War for the Sky

Chapters

1. For Want of a Nail
2. Plots, Politics, and Photography
4. Point of No Return
5. Faith, Friendship, and Final Formations
6. The Battle of Fairbrittle
7. Caring for the Wounded
3. Peaceful Discourse

1. For Want of a Nail

South of the Frozen North, between the Crystal Mountains and the Sea, sits the pony village of Fairbrittle. It is the only settlement for a hundred miles in any direction. Eleven years ago, it was the easternmost part of Equestria, under the lordship of the Noble and ancient House of Prix. To the East lies the Griffon Kingdoms, including North Griffonia. The griffons of North Griffonia had always claimed the land, but never mustered a force against Equestria to take it, for Fairbrittle is tiny, cold, and not worth a bit to anyone.

Eleven years ago, that centuries long peace was nearly broken. King Gryphus III of House Ironclaw was as ambitious as he was insane. The King drank mercury every day, and spoke of visions from the Sky. The Sky’s Prophet had been misheard, his people had chosen wrong, griffins were sinful and weak for not conquering all the lands of the world. As the Holy Sky sits above all, the griffons would lord over every pony, zebra even the half breed hippogriffs in the world.

Equestria was to be the first step in the conquest. Gryphus didn't see a peaceful land ruled over by the alicorn who dictated the movements of the heavens. In his eyes it was a land filled with the magical artifacts, the Alicorn Amulet, the Statue of Discord, the Mirror Between the Worlds, he even fell under the delusion that Idol of Boreas was within Equestria's borders. All Gryphus believed he would have to do was swipe away the weak Celestia, take these objects, and make the world kneel.

On the very first day of Spring 992 years after Luna's banishment, Gryphus rallied the banners. North Griffonia was hyped for the bloodshed, to reclaim their rightful land. Everything thing was set, King Gryphus drew a knife across his palm for the declaration, when he started to cough. As the blood dripped out of his claw, it flowed out of his mouth. Gryphus drowned on his own blood.

The old King's widow moved to have the late King's oldest child, Darius, a boy who had only seen 8 years, take the throne. Gryphus' brother Rhosus moved forward and seized the throne instead.

The dead king's supports declared Rhosus an usurper, the new king's supporters demanded he kill all of Gryphus' sons and daughters, Darius, Cassandra and Alexander. The new King silenced and shocked both sides, immediately adopting all three children, even if it was away from their birth mother.

King Rhosus went further, halting the mobilization and a war born from his late brother's insanity. Yet, the griffins were rallied, they wanted to press their claim. They would either get Fairbrittle, or burn the body of the king who dare deny them. Yet, the new King sent word to Celestia and to quell the desires of his people with diplomacy instead.

Fairbrittle and the entire landbridge switched hands. While the populace was horrified, the land ultimately belonged to the duchess Avidity Prix. She was glad to sell out worthless land and a hundred of her subjects for the highest of ranks in the Nobility. Equestria received concessions, including a large amount of annual tribute, the preservation of the local government, and the promise the land would never hold any soldiers or arms of war.

North Griffonia accepted the terms, averting both a foreign and domestic war. The ponies of Fairbrittle feared oppression, feared being made slaves, or even cooked into dinner, but those fears never came to pass. Almost nothing changed, besides the flags on the mayor’s building and the stamps that customs inspectors used. The village still was little more than a train stop on the little Equestria-Griffon rail-line, and nothing changed that fact.

When Nightmare Moon returned, Fairbrittle wondered how they set all their clocks wrong. When Discord returned, the village didn’t even get a drop of chocolate rain. Even two weeks ago, when the Crystal Empire suddenly reappeared after a thousand years, the populace saw a light show on the horizon, and nothing more. The town was an unimportant resting place, an alternate to just sailing across the sea. Fate itself had decreed Fairbrittle would never be the center of attention, never meant to be the cause of world changing events, never meant to determine who lives and who dies.

The problem is, not everyone is bond by the whims of Fate, or the plans she has set...

4:30 PM, Fairbrittle, North Griffonia, 1003 Y.A.B. (Years After Banishment), 21st day of Fall.

The sun was on it's western decent over the permaforst covering the land in lengthened shadows. Farmers returned from the potato fields, the market was winding down. This day was supposed to be a day like any other, with the exception of a griffon and an earth pony pony a mile from the town digging a new well.

The griffon wiped took off his United Equestrian-Griffonian cap to wipe sweat from his dark brown feathers, "Quarry, how much deeper is it?"

The pony Quarry continued to pound the ground apart with her hooves, "Adrian, taking this assignment was you're idea. Just shut up and keep digging."

Adrian leaned against his shovel, "The ground is getting colder, are you sure your echo senses aren't just going wonky again?"

Quarry looked up from her work, "There is liquid water down there. I know it."

The feathers above Adrian's eyes lifted up.

"If I check again, will you remain quiet?"

Adrian nodded.

Quarry rolled her eyes, "And I thought this job would mean I wouldn't have to baby sit anymore."

Adrian's eyes narrowed.

Quarry closed her eyes. Magic flowed through her hooves. The light of outside world went dark, the breathing of Adrian went silent. She raised one of her hind hooves and slammed it into the side of the hole. The vibration moved through the ground, showing her the location of stones, of animals burrows, and the ice. Below her she felt it again, the water reservoir among the frozen soil. However, she felt something she had previously missed. It was a long thin nail of some substance cutting through the dirt. It didn't have the hard ring of hard rock, yet it didn't quite have the softer reverberation of a trees roots. Quarry knew she had felt it somewhere, but couldn't remember what it was.

"Well..?"

The sun's shine returned to her eyes, and Quarry's question rang through her ears, “It's... we're close. Just six more feet...”

"Is everything okay?"

"I felt something else in the soil," Quarry said looking at the wall, "I can't really tell what it is..."

Adrian stared at his partner, "Is it lead? That is last thing these ponies need in their drinking water..."

"No... it kind of feels like a solidified piece of wood. Probably just some ancient petrified tree or something."

Adrian lifted up it's shovel, "We should dig it out just to be sure."

"Maybe we-," Quarry felt a deep chill, something that seemed to originate in her very soul, that left in an instant. She shook her head, "No, it's not important. It’s getting late, and we aren't being paid by the hour. Let's just dig this well and GO."

“Which direction is it in?” Adrian asked.

Quarry pointed at the side of the hole. “About seven feet that way, but there is a lot of sedimentary rock between us and it.”

“And you're not curious at all?” Adrian started to dig out the side of the hole.

“Adrian..., ” Quarry stated.

“Listen, if you let me do this, I will buy you a round of drinks and rent some bows at the archery range in town.” Adrian said, looking over at Quarry.

Quarry held up a hoof.

“You know they have a stationary bow you can draw back with your teeth, right?”

“ I will take up archery as soon as my dentist says I need to dislocate my jaw.”

Adrian sighed, “Alright, three rounds of drinks.”

Quarry massaged her temple, “Fine. Whatever, I hope you’re happy when you dig up some ancient tree.”

Adrian spent the an hour digging and picking his way thorough the soil, ice and rock to quench his curiosity. Finally, the shovel hit something that was neither dirt or stone.

Quarry looked on in amusement, “So, what did you find? Some lost, ancient treasure? The secrets to eternal youth? Or was it just the remains of a thousand year old forest?”

Adrian looked at the black suit that was covering his claw. “It’s… coal.”

“Coal?” Quarry sniffed the black substance. For a second they stared at the find. Forgetting their tools, the two of them used hoof and claw to unveil more of substance. It wasn't a fluke, the entire line was coal, the black gold of industry.

“Can you tell how large this vein is?” Adrian asked.

“Give me a second...” Quarry closed her eyes, shutting out the world. Once again she concentrated on emptying her mind of her normal senses, and raised her hind leg. Adrian stepped to the side. Quarry slammed her hoof into the ground. The shockwave spread outward, showing every rock, every grain of dirt, every pocket of air, everything. Quarry ignored all of this, concentrating on the specific frequencies of the shock wave passing through the coal. At first, she only felt small patches. Then she felt longer chains of coal running through the rocks. Then the chains started to form together into a massive, massive pile of black gold.

Quarry returned to the world, blinking.

“Quarry?”

Quarry laughed, laughed till she cried.

“Quarry? How much?”

Quarry reached out and pulled Adrian into a hug. The Adrian blushed at the contact.

“Adrian you… you have no idea…” Quarry said between gasps. “All thanks to your stubbornness… Oh… where do I even begin… With this… were going to be so… bucking rich…”

A smile creeped onto the Griffin’s face.

Meanwhile, in Canterlot Castle…

Hundreds of miles away, Celestia and Luna sat down at their table having dinner and breakfest respectively. It been another long day. The sudden reappearance of the Crystal Empire had caused all kinds of political and legal headaches as the nobility tried to gain control of the long lost nation.

Celestia suddenly stopped mid bite, and blinked. She looked up from her dinner and out the window.

Luna felt a chill spread throughout the room, and the Princess of the Night looked up from her newspaper, “Are you unperturbed sister?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, just… thinking about the horrors that tomorrow’s court will bring.” Celestia said simply.

Luna sensed some kind of deception at play, but decided to ignore it. “'Tis this nonsense about the new border town, Appleloosa?”

Celestia nodded, “The Seats always are exploiting the laws in attempt to gain power.”

“The Nobility I remembered couldn’t just take homes away from other ponies as it pleased them.” Luna noted, “They had to actually fight on the fields of battle for every inch, rather than taking everything with the stroke of a pen.”

Celestia looked her sister directly in the eyes, “Luna, do you trust me?”

Luna was taken aback by the sudden question. She remembered the night she hadn’t trusted Celestia, the night Luna questioned her sister of the sun. The night she had relived for a thousand years.

“We do Tia.” Luna said, forcing herself to make a small smile. “Always.”

"Then you need to understand, what I have changed, what I have allowed to be changed, is what needed to be done." Celestia went back to eating her dinner.

Luna looked down at her breakfast, alone with her thoughts, planning her next nightmare.

1:30 PM, Canterlot, 1003 Y.A.B., 22nd day of Fall.

In Canterlot, a few blocks away from the Royal Castle, is the great Forum of the Unicorn Nobles, the Seats of Nobility. It was one of the oldest buildings in Canterlot, older than royal castle, older than the Royal sisters themselves. It is said the legendary Princess Platinum, first Princess of Equestria, built the Seats herself to allow the ancient unicorn houses to continue their leadership over the united tribes.

It was a long, oval room with hundreds of seats. All the seats were raised above the inner floor, where anypony not of noble blood must stand, if they wish to argue anything before the Seats. The first layer of seats belong to landless noble families, who do not hold lands but still hold a rank of nobility. Next are the barons, who hold small amounts of land and titles, but don’t have enough to qualify for a higher rank. Above the Barons are the Counts, who hold much higher amount of lands. Some counts are independent, but most are vassals of the highest level of seats, the Duchesses and Dukes, commanding large lands, other nobles, and the only perpetual voting rights in the Seats.

The two highest Seats in the building did not belong to the Princesses. The Royal Seat was at an equal height to the seats of the Duchies. Instead, the highest seat belongs to the High Horn. There are two raised “horns” that extend high into the room, with a podium at each. One is where a noble sits when they wish to speak before the Seats on an issue. Currently, Princess Celestia was standing on that horn. Opposing her sat the High Horn, the Duchess Avidity Prix.

Celestia sat before the Seats, as she opened her mouth to deliver her speech, “Nobles of the Seats, Electors of the Crown, Ladies and Gentlecolts of Canterlot, I ask you, on behalf of the ponies of Appleloosa, to drop this matter. They did not, intentionally or otherwise, make a treaty and bypass your rights and authority on this matter. They made a friendly agreement with the tribes to the South, nothing more."

“The Buffaloes do not have the same laws or views on ownership as we do. They view land as a shared resource, to be used and taken care of. They never claimed sole control of Appleloosa. Other tribes travel through the Thunder Tribe’s territory. They only come into conflict with those they feel will misuse or exploit the nature they hold in holy regard. The ponies of Appleloosa simply showed they could respect the land and that their orchards would not interfere with the Buffalos sacred paths.”

In a smooth motion, Celestia stood up, “No documents were signed, no land was transferred. Neither the earth ponies of Appleloosa, nor the Senate of Commons, subverted your authority to veto, or attempted to make a deal behind your back. They did not make a treaty with the Thunder Tribe.”

The Princess stood there, holding her regal stance as she stared Avidity down. The entire forum was filled with talk. Avidity Prix ignored all of this, pulled out two documents, and spoke, “On the 56th day of Spring in the year 913 Y.A.B., when Lord Highblood was the Horn of the Seats, a similar border dispute between ponies living north of Vanhoover and Yakyakistan emerged. Do you remember this?”

The Avidity looked at the Princess' eyes. They never wavered, Celestia’s expression was unreadable. The Princess answered simply, “Yes.”

The Avidity continued, “The Yaks were very close to declaring war upon Equestria over the border, but a sudden outbreak of disease among their potato crop halted their invasion plans. The Yaks begged the good ponies of Vanhoover for food and agreed to drop their claims and pull their army back. While Mayor Shepard’s efforts were admirable, in her haste to resolve the issue, the Mayor of Vanhoover never had the Yaks actually sign anything. Yet, according to these transcripts that you beseeched the Seats of Nobility to accept this unsigned agreement, made not of noble blood, but by a simple mayor, as an official, binding document. The Seats of Nobility accepted your argument and ratified the treaty. Celestia, do you dispute this?”

Again, Celestia’s face remained unreadable, “I do not.”

Avidity’s eyes widened as she put her hoof to her chin, “Then why have you made this sudden change of opinion about the validity of the spoken word? Do you want to go to the Yaks and demand the border be pushed further North than it already is? Equestria did save them from starvation after all, it is only fitting we receive just compensation.”

Celestia stood their, face still unreadable, agains answered simply, “I do not.”

Avidity put the first document down, and held the second document in her telekinetic grip, “The second item I have here is a bill of sale. The Expanding Equestrian Railways went to the Thunder tribe, wanting to create a new rail line heading South through their territory to the Red Macintosh Mountains, and got the rights to use a thin strip of land. Chief Thunderhoof personally printed his hoof onto this bill of exchange. While the payment was not in bits, but for apple pies, it still is a sale, even if it is a primitive one.”

Avidity smiled, going in for the final strike, “Do you not consider the Buffalo Tribes a sovereign nation? While you did send an ambassador to talk to Chief Thunderhoof, I will understand if you wish to view them as something other than an independent state. The tribes have no unified government, no codified laws, or even a written language. Theses beasts attacked the poor, barely armed citizens of Appleloosa. Maybe we should considered them Stateless Savages, so we don't need to worry about any more... incursions.”

The Princess stood at the podium, spending a few moments staring at the High Horn. After a silence that seemed to go on for an eternity, Celestia let out a small sigh, “The Crown concedes that the agreement was a treaty, and removes its objections regarding Appleloosa.”

Avidity Prix looked down at the representative of the Senate, a buffalo girl from the tribe, and the mayor of Appleloosa. The mayor looked crushed. The Senator put a comforting hoof on the mayor’s back. The Buffalo scowled at Avidity. Yet, the Princess was still holding her regal stance.

“You can’t even give me the satisfaction of accepting defeat…” Prix thought as she looked at the nobles, “Is there any further objections?”

The Mayor shook his head, stood up, and glared at Avidity, “I demand to speak!”

“Denied,” Avidity Prix said without even looking at the Mayor, “If there isn’t a noble with any further objection, I propose the first vote.” Avidity Prix looked around the room, keeping a close eye on Duke Fancy Pants and his allies, but they stayed silent. “Appleloosa is part of a new and growing community, but as the House of Nobility we must make sure these new and dangerous lands are lead by experienced leaders, who are equipped to deal with the challenges of… sharing this land. For the first portion of a new, formal treaty, the shared land will be under the dominion of the Seats of Nobility as Equestria’s newest duchy. In the name of the founders, in witness of Equestria, I call the vote. Those in favor?”

Ninety eight hooves were raised in favor, including Fancy Pants of all ponies, twenty five were raised in opposition, three abstained. The smile on Avidity’s face grew, for once things were working correctly, “Now, we must choose which house shall be given this great honor…”

Fancy Pants stood, “I invoke my right to speak.”

Avidity turned to Fancy Pants, the smile fading in an instant, “It is your right…”

Fancy Pants made his way over to the high podium. Pace Prix turned over an hourglass on the podium, giving Fancy five minutes to speak.

Fancy took the high seat and adjusted his monocle, “There has been some very interesting talk relating to the Appleloosa question. Of these malicious rumors were accusations that you, Avidity, are pushing for the change for reasons besides the goodness of your heart."

Some of the color drained from Avidity's face, "He can't know..."

"One rumor is that you promised to elevate a noble in exchange for a portion of Appleloosa's harvest revenue."

Avidity's left eye slightly twitched.

"The most malicious and absurd rumor of all claimed you promised the duchy not only to one pony, but Count Thimbers, Count Prace, Count Midas, or Count Wellborn.” Fancy Pants pointed to the named nobility.

Six hundred and forty eight pairs of eyes looked down at the four nobles. Under the gaze, all of four of the counts started to fidget and sweat. Midas appeared to be attempting to merge with her chair. Wellborn was suddenly extremely interested by the back of his hoof, and started to polish it. Thimbers was ramrod stiff, trying and failing to pretend she didn’t notice the attention. Worst of all, Prace, who was near tears, looked up towards Avidity with a look of pure desperation.

"You. Brain. Dead. Shit. Why did you look at me?" Avidity thought, forcing her face to remain neutral.

The nobles looked back between Avidity and the Counts. Whispers filled the forum. Whispers filled with accusations of blackmail, conspiracy, and bribery. The counts’ liege lords gained a look of absolute rage.

"Of course, we all know none of that can be true, and your intentions were as honest as they always are." Fancy finished with a smirk.

Avidity stared at Fancy Pants and the stallion’s wiley smile.

“How the buck did he find out?” Avidity thought, “I made sure…”

Avidity passed Fancy Pants and towards his wife, Fleur Dis Lee. Fleur had a smile and simply waved.

Avidity’s eye twitched, “It was HER… That. Prench. WHORE.”

“While each of them is from a long, noble line,” Fancy continued, “None of them, or indeed any of us, have ever controlled a town like Appleloosa. It’s a town at the edge of Equestria, the very frontier of the civilization we know, and so, so far away from the comforts we come to expect. It is such a hot, dry location, making sure the fields are properly watered and don't whither in the heat is a round the clock job. The safety and stability we have all grown accustomed to simply doesn’t yet exist in the Wild South. Bands of thieves travel across the land, preying on any wealth they can find. On top of all that, the people of Appleloosa on a daily basis have to deal with all the Buffalo tribes that range through their lands, and have to keep the precarious peace between the chiefs in-place, or the whole region could descend into war. The new Duke would certainly have to move to Appleloosa itself, as ruling it from the family mansion is simply not an option.”

It slowly dawned on many of the nobles just what kind of nightmare getting this "honor" would be. Avidity looked down at the hourglass, seeing there was only a minute of this madness left.

“What... is your point, Pants?” Avidity spat with irritation.

“In the name of the founders, in witness of Equestria, I call a vote,” Fancy Pants declared, “To Name Mayor Apple Oats, Duke of Appleloosa.”

The forum was dead silent. Everyone stared in shock at Fancy Pants.

Avidity pointed at Apple Oats, “You want to name him, Apple Oats, a Duke. You want to give him, an earth pony, a stallion elected by a bunch of farmers, who is wearing a stetson in the Seats of Nobility, a landed noble title. Not just any rank of nobility, but of the rank of Duke. You want to hand such power to a Mayor?”

Fancy Pants smiled, "I am glad you understand."

Avidity shook her head, “I will not waste the Seat’s valuable time with such nonsense. An earth pony cannot become a noble-”

“There is no law that says only unicorns can be nobles, or be raised to that station.” Fancy Pancy stated, “The original founding words of the Seats of Nobility states, ‘any pony of a notable and accomplished house’ may become a noble. There is no stated horn requirement. Celestia herself ascended Cadence, born a pegasus, to the rank of Princess, and the Seats did not vote against it."

Avidity shook her head, “Raising the last known heir of the Crystal Empire to the ceremonial position of 'Princess of Love' is a world different than our topic before us today. I highly doubt that the ancient Seats would make such an oversight as to allow the farmers to gain a noble title. Bring out the Book of Laws."

A door opened in the oval of the forum. An old unicorn slowly pushed a cart with a book on it. The Book of Laws towered over the mare struggling to move it into the forum. The old unicorn struggled as she started to lift a large amount of pages with magic.

Fancy Pants looked down at the old mare, “Tome Attendant, it’s Article Five, Line 78 of the Founding Document.”

Tome Attendant gave a sigh of relief as she simply lifted the front cover of the book, “Article Five… Line 78... here it is! ‘By a majority vote, the Nobles of the Seats may raise any pony of a notable and accomplished house to a title of grace and nobility.’”

“As you can see, there is no horn requirement,” Fancy Pants declared

“Apple Oats is not a member of a notable and accomplished house.” Avidity shouted, “He is from the Apples, who are fruit farmers-”

“Who helped to found several villages and towns across Equestria, including Ponyville.” Fancy Pants turned around. “Celestia, your personal protege, and the rest of the Elements of Harmony live in that town, correct?”

Princess Celestia smiled, “Yes they do.”

Avidity turned to the Princess, “A protege from an unlanded family. She might as well of picked a Mule...” She looked at the hourglass. It had long since passed the allotted time. However, Fancy Pants had officially called for a vote.

“Fancy, if you wish to embarrasses yourself before your betters, be my guest,” Avidity thought as she stood up, “All in favor of the proposal?”

A flurry of hooves were raised. Avidity looked around the forum. Half were throwing their support, “Has everypony gone insane? No, they couldn't possibly... Wait, this isn’t half...”

“Sixty votes in favor of the proposal,” said the court counter, Noted Ledger.

"He's two votes short,The smile returned to Avidity face with the thought, “I win."

“I will have to congratulate you on your effort Fancy Pants,” Avidity stated with a wicked smile, “All opposed?”

What appeared to be the rest of the forum raised their hooves. Avidity closed her eyes, and breathed out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. Noted Ledger had done the official count, it was all over, this madness had come to an end.

“Fifty nine votes in opposition,” Noted Ledger stated.

Avidity’s eyes shot open, “Fifty nine?”

“Count Thimbers, Count Prace, Count Midas, and Count Wellborn abstained,” Noted Ledger said.

Avidity looked at the four counts she had bribed and manipulated, the four she had, separately promised that Duchy to. Now…

Apple Oats cried openly, “I… I don’t know much about being a noble, but I don’t know what to say… I… thank you all. I just need to ask… where do I sit?”

“You can take my seat, my newest Duke,” Princess Celestia said as she stepped out of her own chair.

“Princess.” Avidity started, “I… humble request you do not dirty the royal Seat in such manner-”

“Well, thank you for volunteering your family Seat instead,” Celestia said, a sly smile adorning her face.

Subdued snickers rang throughout the room. Avidity watched in horror Apple Oats walked up the steps and sat his earth pony flank in her family’s ancestral chair.

7:00 PM, The House of Prix, Canterlot 23rd day of Fall

Duchess Avidity of House Prix, Lord of the North-West, High Horn of the Seats of Nobility, stumbled into her own study. Another bottle was sitting on the desk. Avidity downed it before she even sat in her chair.

“That stallion, and his Prench whore…” Avidity mumbled, “He’s going to be the ruin of all that is noble… He should go sleep in the fields with the mudfuckers he loves so fucking much.”

The butler, Trimservice held out a glass. “More Cider?”

Avidity took the offered drink with her mouth, not even bothering to use magic. She downed it and placed the glass on her desk. “Thank you, Trim… you always know...”

Trimservice wrapped his foreleg around Avidity and gently stroked her back, “It is my duty and pleasure to serve you. It always is, it always will be.”

Avidity closed her eyes and smiled softly to the touch.

Trimservice removed his hoof and magically held up a folder, “This month’s... finances have just arrived. Shall I get another bottle?”

Avidity thought about it, but shook her head. “No, I need to deal with that while I can still see straight…”

Trimservice walked out the door, “I will leave it by your bed and be waiting for you there.”

“Thank you Trim,” Avidity said as she opened up the books.

Farm Expenses……………………………........-43,542 b.

Wheat and Produce Sales………………........36,892 b.

Prix Enchantment Guild Expenses...........-40,005 b.

Prix Enchantment Guild Revenue……….....17,462 b.

Manor Expenses……………….…………........-166,900 b.

Misc. Family Expenses………………….........-55,971 b.

Grand Prix’s Bar Tab………………….…........-7,135 b.

Avidity’s eyes twitched, “I should’ve listened to my mother and chained that stallion to the stove as soon as he said our vows…”

On the final page, it said simply:

Totally Family Monthly Revenue……... -259,199 b.

Avidity sighed and started to write a note for the Noble Bank. Their savings had more than enough to cover this kind of loss, but this was far from the first month in the negative. if this level oF deficit kept up, the Prix family would be bitless in five years. This monetary crisis was hitting almost every noble family.

Appleloosa was supposed to be the break the family needed. Avidity had promised each of those counts that duchy if they could convince their lords to vote with the High Horn on this issue. She would’ve betrayed three of them in the end, there was only one title that could be handed out, but they would be to scared to reveal their own involvement in the conspiracy to do anything about it.

In exchange, Avidity would’ve gotten a large proportion of the farming profits, and the various families living in Appleloosa would be too tied up with their news homes to simply move away to find jobs on farms or in factories. That was the plan, anyway...

Avidity magically picked up her empty glass, wishing she had kept the bottle.

“That damn pony with his damn monocle…” Avidity thought as she pulled out the Canterlot Times, “But maybe this can work. It’s not like this bumpkin mayor was properly educated, maybe I could-”

All thought seized when Avidity looked down at the headline.

BLACK GOLD IN FAIRBRITTLE: BE PART OF THE RUSH!
The town of Fairbrittle and the United EG train line proudly announces the discovery of coal in the border town. The current geological survey has sensed and confirmed well over 2 million tonnes of coal near the surface, worth 127 million bits at current prices, but that is only from several hours of surveying. United EG is looking for miners, rock farmers, and ponies of similar talents to move to the Northern land-bridge…

Avidity read and reread the paper, “2 million tonnes… 127 million bits… Fairbrittle… the northern passage…”

Avidity put down the newspaper, “The passage to the Griffin Kingdoms no one used, the town of Earth Ponies that barely could grow enough to feed themselves, worth hundreds of millions of bits. Traded for… what? A higher Seat that is clearly not worth even being a latrine? Why didn’t I... How could I… no... the Princess.”

Avidity stood up from her desk, “Celestia, she knew. She knew this entire time... My family was sitting on riches, sitting on enough to see us through our hour of need, to cement our place in history, but she told us nothing. Celestia traded it all away to those brainless griffons, just to deny me my rights, to give me an illusion of power, a meaningless chair.”

Avidity turned to painting, of her mother and Princess Celestia, hanging on the wall, “That’s your game. You’re trying to destroy me, you’re trying to destroy my family. No… you are trying to destroy the ENTIRETY of the nobility! When you traded for our ability to wage war against each other, you took away our ability to oppose you! When you pushed us to the emancipation of our serfs, you allowed them to walk away and work for other mudfuckers in Manehatten, leaving us broke. You raise earth ponies and pegasus to the highest rank, so our ancient magic is meaningless. You fucking traitor! My ancestors elected you, my ancestors helped to lead the ponies before you were even born!"

A magical glow encased the painting and hurled it across the room.

“You bitch…” said Avidity, looking down at the broken artwork.

“No… it is my coal... it is my property… I will have what is mine by right.”

Avidity turned away from the painting and started to look through her files. She lifted an old paper, her personal copy of The Treaty of Transfer of the Northern Passage.

Duchess Avidity Prix read through the terms of the treaty, and found an answer. A smile crept onto her face as she picked up a quill, and started to write a letter...

Author's Note

Historical Notes: Throughout European history, a nation's nobility often had legislative powers, either defacto as the sitting King was to weak to oppose them, or legally such as in Britain's House of Lords. How much power the nobility had to dictate laws varied wildly between different times and different countries.

During the industrial revolution, much of Europe's surviving nobility found itself with extreme money problems, sometimes literally selling off noble titles for cash.

2. Plots, Politics, and Photography

10:30 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 34th day of Fall.

Built below the crag of a mountain, Twistspire was the Capital of North Griffonia. Unlike Canterlot, it was not covered in perfect marble and bright colors, but brown wood and grey stone. To the west, on the far shore of the Tibus river, were the cities new coal powered factories, producing weapons, consumer goods, and the airships floating above the capital. Stone towers of the Great Clans dotted the city, the tower’s height an indication of the clan’s wealth, power, and access to reliable architects. In the center of the city stood three great buildings; the Muhtesem, the royal castle and seat of the Ironclaw Clan, the Kilise, a grand cathedral of the Semith faith, and the Kavga, the Great Arena. It was the first day in the Prophet’s Mercy, a five day celebration for all the faithful. The morning praises to the Sky had ended, and as many Griffons as possible were crammed into the Kavga.

Open to the Sky, the Kavga was the largest arena in all the Griffon Kingdoms, the round structure able to seat over a hundred thousand Everyone, from commoners to the Royal family, come to prove their mettle under the open Sky. Air was thick with the smell of sweat, sand, and steel. While the iron smell of blood once was common in the pit, fights were no longer to the death. The rowdy crowds had rioted when King Rhosus II “ruined” the Arena, even setting fire to a large portion of the capital in protest. Yet the reforms remained.

King Rhosus Ironclaw II was sitting in the royal box, watching as two combatants entered the arena. Behind the King stood the guards, with their platemail and halberds, prepared to fight off physical attack (or hold back the occasional drunken brawl), and the hippogriff Court Wizard, Hywel of the Scything Guild, crystal staff in claw to fight off arcane assaults. Before Rhosus was his only child by blood, heir apparent to the throne, Norah, and her newlywed husband, Richard. To Rhosus’ left stood the seat of the Queen, one that had been empty for seven years. To Rhosus’ right sat his young adoptive son, Alexander, the child of the late King Gryphus II, and two empty chairs, normally reserved for the Alex’s brother, Darius, and sister, Cassandra. They were not sitting in the box, because they were in the arena.

Darius and Cassandra stood 20 feet apart. They were in full armor and wings bound to their body. Both of their blades were covered in cloth padding. Darius held a great two clawed axe, with a heavy blade, a spike on the end, and a hook on the blade’s opposing side. He was standing up on his hind legs to a full height, a head higher than his younger sister. Cassandra was holding a much smaller arming axe in one hand, with the buckler shield of the Youth Brigade strapped to her other hand. Cassandra was hunched over, ready to pounce.

Darius gave a full bow to his sister. Cassandra rolled her eyes and gave a nod. They both retook their stances, lowered their helmet’s visors, ready for the signal.

On the inside edge of the arena, the judged pulled out a pistol. She took out her horn of gunpowder, half cocked the mechanism, poured some gunpowder into the pan, poured more down the barrel, pushed the powder down with a ramrod, fully cocked the mechanism, lifted the pistol above her head, and fired.

Cassandra jumped forward, diving under Darius’ swing, throwing a quick strike to the exposed leg.

The judge held up a white flag in her left hand, “Leg injury!”

Darius smacked Cassandra with the end of his weapon before she could get in another hit. He swung again with the blade. Cassandra deflected the blow with her buckler, causing the axe to hit the ground. Darius twisted the axe, and pulled back, catching Cassandra’s knee in the hook and sending her to the ground.

The judge held up a white flag in her right hand, “Leg injury! Back injury!”

Cassandra got her knee out of the hook and got to her feet. Darius changed up his tactics, using the spike as a spear point and threw out jab after jab to prevent Cassandra from gaining an oopening.

Cassandra found one anyway. When Darius over extended with a jab, she grabbed the hook of the axe, pounced forward, and jumped at Darius. He didn’t have time to step out of the way as Cassandra hit a blow between the lightly armored point between the shoulder and the neck. She sailed over her brother’s shoulder, and landed on her front claws.

The judge held up a red flag in her left hand, “Bleeding Out! Five…Four...”

Darius quickly swung his axe around. Cassandra tried to dodge away, but got a full hit to the side and was sent rolling along the ground.

The Judge held a red flag in her right hand, “Fatal blow.”

Cassandra hit the ground in frustration.

The judge stood up, “Cassandra and Darius, of clan Ironclaw, you have struck what would be lethal blows against the other. Therefore, I declare No Winner.”

Darius walked over to her sister, holding out a hand, “You’re improving.”

“Shut up you cheap shot asshole,” Cassandra said as she took the hand.

Darius pulled his sister to her feet, and they each helped the other out of their wing bindings. Once freed, they both took to the air, and flew over to the royal box.

Alex ran up and hugged his siblings, “You were amazing! Swiping Cassandra off her feet, doing that jump attack, it was so cool!”

“Don’t worry, in a few years, I’m going to beat you up with it at well,” Cassandra said as she rubbed Alex’s head.

“That didn’t seem like a victory to me,” Norah stated, “Shall we discuss it with the judge?”

“Cassandra. You know the rules,” King Rhosus said, “In a real fight-”

“-As long as their eyes are open and they are breathing, even the most wounded are a threat,” Cassandra stated, “I know, I know. You have told me a hundred times.”

“Maybe one day you will listen,” Norah said with a smile.

Cassandra glared at her adoptive sister, “Maybe one day you will have the wings to actually face me in the sand…”

“You’re going to attack an ambassador?” Norah said in faux shock.

Cassandra ignored Norah as she tried to untie her plate mail. Norah stood up and undid the hard to reach knots.

“Thanks,” Cassandra said as she sat down, taking off the buckler.

“Norah, please relax,” Rhosus said, “You should just be enjoying yourself. You have delayed your honeymoon long enough with work as it is. You deserve a break.”

“Father, it’s fine,” Norah smiled to her father, “You haven’t taken a single day since the day you put on that crown.”

Rhosus turned to the empty chair, "... Please don’t waste your youth, I want you to enjoy life while you can.”

“Why won’t you believe when I say I enjoy work?” Norah asked.

“Because you gotten so good at lying you’re lying to yourself,” Rhosus stated with a serious face. Norah returned the face, father and daughter staring each other down. They both broke, and they chuckled.

Norah turned to help Darius, but Richard grabbed her back, “I can take care of him.”

Cassandra smirked, “Darius would prefer that a man takes off his clothes.”

“Cassandra!”

3:58 PM, Fairbrittle Station, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 34th day of Fall.

What once been an empty platform just two weeks before had become a hub of activity. Builders, miners, executives, and journalists had started to flood into the town from all across Equestria and North Griffonia, along with the building and mining equipment. All the workers had brought with them a demand for new housing, entertainment, and places to dine. The sleepy village was quickly turning into a boom town. The locals had complained for a few days, but the Railroad had negotiated very good terms with the existing populace.

Janie of clan Wroughtline stood on the platform, watching as the newest train from Equestria pulled in, her Griffon eyes keeping a look out for any journalists. There was too much work, it could not be halted for five days, even for the most important holiday, despite the Railway having to pay a fortune in bonuses. Jaine looked around. A nervous looking light orange unicorn tinkering with her camera walked off the locomotive.

“Least this one is nice enough to put ‘press’ on her hat,” Jaine thought as she walked over to the pony, “Welcome to Fairbrittle.”

The unicorn nearly jumped out of her skin.

Jaine quelled the urge to roll her eyes. “I take it you never seen a Griffon before.”

The unicorn stuttered, “Well, no… just not this close… not that it’s a-a…,” she breathed in, “I’m sorry, my name is Lens Flash, and this is my first assignment abroad.”

“Well, then welcome to North Griffonia as well,” Jaine said, “I will be your guide today.”

“My guide?” Lens Flash asked.

“We are doing a lot of construction,” Jaine explained, “And we’ve had a few too many cases of the press causing interruptions and delays.”

“Oh.” Len Flare opened her saddle bag with her magic and levitated some bits into Jaine’s claw. “Here you go.”

Jaine stared down at the coins in her claw, before letting out a big sigh.

“Oh, is it not enough?” Lens Flare looked back into her saddle bag, “I’m so sorry, I-

“We are not in Griffonstone,” Jaine said flatly.

Lens turned to the Griffon. “Excuse me?”

“We are not in Griffonstone,” Jaine repeated as she walked over and dumped the bits back into the saddlebag, “You do not need to pay us to breath.”

“But, I thought it was the capital, and all Griffons…”

“No” Jaine interrupted, “We bowed to the greed of Griffonstone, but that was over four hundred years ago. In North Griffonia, we believe there is more to life than just coin. Besides, the Railroad is already paying me, why do you think I need your money as well?”

“I’m sorry, didn’t know,” Len Flare looking down at the ground, “I’ve been… interested in griffons… I was just told… well…”

Jaine put her claw against her chest. “That Griffons only value the gold of their horde?”

Lens Flare looked ashamed, but nodded.

Jaine shook her head. “Here, we actually take pride in mastering a craft for it’s own sake. Accuse a Griffon around here of greed and they will punch you in the face.”

Lens Flare giggled, till she saw the absolute seriousness in Jaine’s face.

“Sky above let this day get brighter…” Jaine thought to herself. She turned around, and said, “Now, come on and let’s go to the mines…”

“No!” Lens Flash stated suddenly, “I… have heard enough about rocks for one day.”

Jaine raised her eye brow.

Lens Flare rubbed the back of her head. “The… pony I was next to on the train would only talk about rocks for nine hours. After that, I would like to report on the town itself and all the progress that has been made.”

“Well, I will happily show you around,” Jaine said as she smiled, “Just followed me.”

Jaine led Lens Flare through the town to the ever growing marketplace, past stalls selling oats, wheat, fish, and meat. Jaine kept an eye on Lens, and noticed the pony’s discomfort.

“She’s probably never been to a proper market or seen so much meat in her life, the smell must be killing her” Jaine reasoned in her head, “But why is she only taking pictures of the stalls run by Griffons?”

“So how do... “ Lens Flared stammered a bit, “...Griffons spend their free time around here?”

“The same ways ponies do,” Jaine said in deadpan, “We go to the pub, sing…”

“Not as often or as loudly as ponies. How the hell are they always able to coordinate those musical numbers on the spot?” Jaine mused to herself, “...wrestle, go to the archery range-”

“Archery?” Lens Flare interrupted, “You mean like bows and arrows?”

“...Yeah,” Jaine said.

“Oh, can we go see that now?” Lens Flare said with sudden enthusiasm.

“Ok… the range is this way…” Jaine indicated, “What is this pony’s deal?”

Lens Flare, with a confident stride followed Jaine to the edge of the town.

“Is there any particular reason you’re so interested in archery?” Jaine asked.

“Oh… well… I always have been interested in… archery,” Lens Flare stated, “I always loved watching ponies firing off the elemental arrows into the target.”

“Archery is a little different in the Griffon Kingdoms,” Jaine explained as she crested the hill, “All we have is simple steel, feather, and wood. Also, we don’t fire from stationary bows on the ground, we fire from the sky.”

The archery range came into view. Griffons were flying in the air, gracefully firing at targets far below.

CLICK.

Jaine turned to Lens Flare, watching as the pony switched out one photographic plate for another, snapping another picture.

“Let’s go to that hill,” Lens Flare pointed across the archery range, “I think I will get the best picture from there.”

Jaine raised her eyebrow, but complied. “Alright, what is this pony up to? A corporate spy would be trying to find out where the coal is, or what we are using to dig with, expenses… Why is this filly so interested in bows?”

Jaine looked over to Lens Flare, taking a picture of a strong male Griffon, squeezing his back muscles together before releasing another arrow. Lens was studying every muscle fiber, every ridge, taking as many photos as her camera allowed.

“Oh Sky, she is a feather fucker,” Jaine realized in her head, “How could someone that ignorant of griffons… Sky above, she was probably staring at my ass this entire time.”

Lens Flare only stopped taking photographs just to replace the bulb on her camera, then gleefully taking more pictures, completely unaware of of Jaine slowly growing look of disgust.

“I mean… I don’t mind ponies, but ponies and griffons being together is just fucking unnatural… wait, shit,”Jaine flinched as disturbing mental images flooded her head.

“I think I have what I need,” Lens Flare stated happily.

“I’m sure you do,” Jaine thought as she turned back to town, “Alright, come wi-follow me.”

Jaine walked besides Lens Flare, making sure the Lens wasn’t taking any more glances. Lens, however, seem satisfied. After a silent walk that seemed to go onto for an eternity, they finally came to the press tent.

“The photograph developement room is on your left, the beds are on the other end,” Jaine indicated, “If you have any questions or want to see anything else, ask for a guide. I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Lens Flare nodded holding out a hoof, “It’s been a wonderful day, I am so glad I met you.”

Jaine grabbed the hoof and quickly shook it, “Same… here.”

As soon as Lens Flare withdrew her hoof, Jaine took off to the sky, hoping to find some hard whisky to crush the mental images. Lens Flare turned around and immediately moved to the photograph darkroom.

She closed the curtains, and looked around. The only thing that greeted her was red light. Lens pulled out the undeveloped photographic plates and. She counted out the last ten photos she had taken, and threw the rest in the trash. Lens magically lowered the first plate into the first chemical tray. Lens waited, and then pulled the negative from the tray. Lens smiled, seeing the image. A strong male Griffon, holding a bow, with the town clearly in the background..

10:09 AM, Canterlot, Equestria, 1003 Y.A.B., 39th day of Fall.

Fleur Dis Lee longed on Fancy Pant’s back. It was another beautiful noble tea party. With the exception of Fleur, the nobles were beautifully dressed, talking up made up rumors and spreading the smallest of slandors. Like children, they were playing a game of pretend. Pretend they found each others jokes funny. Pretend they that they liked the food and were not wishing to just scoff down a hay burger. Pretend that they were not bleeding bits with every step they took. Pretend to not notice that loyal husband was not taking peeks at Fleur’s naked form. Pretend to not notice the loyal wives were stealing glances at Fancy’s flank. That is what these kinds of parties had become, a great game of double thought, trying to find out who was faltering at the game without revealing the fact they knew their was any game being played.

Even Fleur was playing her own deception. Any who looked at him dismissed her as a trophy, as much of Fancy’s clothing as the tie. She was just Fancy’s Prench “actress,” who could barely speak a word of Equestrian, who barely knew or understood what was going on around her, who heard nothing, saw nothing, and likely thought nothing. There is no reason to worry about where she was looking, or what was said near her ears.

All another lie.

When Fancy decided to drop all his plans and join this party uninvited (which the host pretended was just a mishap, blaming the postal service for losing the invitation to such a noble of Fancy’s rank), she was watching, she was listening. She heard the host stammered speech, she saw the sweat, she heard the whispers that Fancy wasn’t supposed to be here, she saw the majority of the voting nobles was here for what was supposed to be a small tea gathering, Apple Oats, Fancy’s voting vassals, and Avidity Prix herself. Fleur saw the court messenger entering through the door, and the general lack of surprise at the sudden appearance.

Fleur rubbed Fancy’s side and whispered into his ear, “Porte....”

Fancy turned from his conversation, and looked at the door.

“Emergency gathering of the Seats!” the messenger cried, “Gather at the Seats immediately.”

Flue followed her husband as they all moved to the Seats of Nobility. Fleur listened to her fellow nobles, or rather would’ve, if any of them were saying anything. No whispers of confusion, nopony was turning to anyone else to seek knowledge or guidance. All the nobles marched in silence.

When Fleur sat in her chair next to Fancy, she looked around the Seats. Avidity was already sitting in the Seat of the High Horn, her cutie mark of a purple Aster surrounded by golden sphere proudly on display, with the widest of smiles and the straightest of postures. All of Avidity’s vassals were present, as were all the nobles in her “faction.” Most of the neutral nobles, who couldn’t be relied for a vote without gifts and some serious promises, were present. Many of Fancy’s allies, such as Apple Oats, and almost all of Fancy’s vassals, were absent. Most of the ones who were here were looking forward, doing everything they could to avoid Fancy’s eye contact. Worst of all, Princess Celestia was no where in sight.

As soon as the last noble was seated, Avidity spoke, “Ladies and gentlecolts of the Seats, I come with a heavy heart to tell you of an immediately threat to all of Equestria. I have just received photographic evidence that the Griffons are arming Fairbrittle for war.”

Several projectors came to life, showing griffons firing bows with Fairbrittle clearly in the background.

Avidity waited for the gasps of shock to subside before continuing, “In direct violation of the Treaty of Transfer of the North West Lands, the Griffon King is arming the populace, making sure every Griffon there is ready for war. Soon, I predict they will enslave the ponies of Fairbrittle to die in the coal mines, and fly west to bring ruin to all we hold noble and dear. If we act quickly, we may be able to halt this malicious plot, and allow Equestria to continue to live in peace. “In the name of the founders, in witnes-”

“I invoke my right to speak,” Fancy Pants shouted at the top of his lungs, “Against this act of war.”

Avidity’s expression didn’t change. She magically lifted the hourglass onto her podium, “It is your right.”

Fancy turned to Fleur, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “Find Celestia.”

Fancy walked down the aisle towards the lifted podium. Fluer left casually without speaking, as if to simply visit the privy, and caught one last glance at the High Horn. Avidity wasn’t even looking at Fancy, she was staring intently at the hourglass, watching each speck of sand fall down.

As soon as Fleur was out the door, the deception fell, and she broke out into an all out gallop. She ran out of the forum, startling the guards, but for once Fleur was not paying attention to her surroundings. The only things she cared about were herself, the castle, and everything in between. Fleur dived and weaved through the market, straight jumping over a fruit cart, and through one of the stands. She was filthy hair and complexion was a mess, there were screams of anger behind her, but none of that mattered.

Fleur was at the gates. It had only been a minute, there were two guards who could help, there was still plenty of time.

“Celestia needs to go to the Seats of Nobility immediately,” Fluer blurted out.

The guards stood there, staring at the seemingly crazed tall pony covered in juices, olive oil, and other assorted market goods.

One of the guards held out a hoog, “Ma’am, if you would please calm down... ”

“I am Fleur Dis Lee, and as a Noble Consort to Duke Fancy Pants, I demand to see Celestia to prevent a war.”

The guards looked at each other. Fleur’s internal clock told her that another precious minute had been wasted.

The second guard, gripping his spear more tightly, stated, “Princess Celestia cannot be reached, she is currently bringing her first year students around the city.”

“Then wake Princess Luna, and have her go to the Seats of Nobility.”

The stomachs of the two guards seemed to completely drop out. Their pupils dilated, and they began to sweat as looks of pure dread formed on their face.

Fleur felt as another precious minute was wasted away, “C’est des conneries!!”

She left the useless guards in the dust, regaining her gallope. She looked everywhere, trying to move as fast as possible while also looking at everything. Another minute passed. In the corner of Fleur’s eye, she saw a perfect shade of white. Celestia was flying through the, magically holding her students up on journey through the skies over Canterlot.

And they happened to be going over a stretch of buildings and away from the street Fleur currently was on.

“Merde!” Fleur sprinted down an alleyway, hoping it would come out to the other side of the street. She smashed against several trash cans and over a bum taking a nap. However, she was on the otherside.

“CELESTIA!” Fleur shouted at the sky in desperation, yelling between heaves of breath.

Two Pegasus guards landed in front of Fleur, and silently moved in to subdue her. Celestia landed in front of them and held out a wing. Her guards bowed their heads and backed off.

“Fleur?” Celestia said as she landed with her students, “What is-”

“Avidity, Vote, Seats, Griffons, War, NOW.”

Princess Celestia turned to her guards, “Take the students back to the school.”

In a swift motion of her wings, sending everypony around her away, Celestia was immediately in the air, and flew straight to the Seats of Nobility. There was no time to go through the door, so Celestia took a note out of Rainbow Dash’s book.

She smash straight through the window, spreading glass and screams throughout the room. Celestia smashed into the ground, sending marble flying in all directions.

“I INVOKE THE ROYAL RIGHT TO SPEAK!”

All of the nobles with any kind of sense cowered to Celestia's wraith. Avidity ignored the Princess, and pulled two notes of paper, a small envelope, a seal, a quill, a lit candle, and a tiny jar filled with green powder. She swept the pen over the papers, put the papers in the envelope, sealed the envelope shut, dumped all the green powder into the candle flame, lit her horn, and magically sent the envelope on it’s way.

“Your majesty, I am deeply sorry to say this, but we have already voted.”

Meanwhile, at the Equestria-Griffonia border…

Grand Prix looked at his watch for the seventh time in the last minute. Before him was a small train, waiting on an off shoot of the main tracks, and the assembled Unicorns-at-Arms of House Prix. All seventy three of them.

The assembled mares and stallions scattered about in what was supposed to be a straight line. Many were leaning against the train, adjusting the straps of their armor in a vain attempt to make the platemail comfortable. Others were chatting, letting their spears sit in the dirt. Two of the supposed soldiers were asleep. Grand Prix had long since given up trying to install discipline in them.

“Did the vote stretch on? Is there something blocking the letter?” Grand Prix thought, “This isn’t my fault… this can’t be, but my bitch wife will-”

In a green flame, an envelope appeared before Grand Prix. In an instant, the envelope was ripped apart. Inclosed was an official document of the Noble Seats, and a note. On the note there were only two letters, written with Avidity’s normal flair.

GO.

“Unicorns of House Prix!” Grand Prix shouted to the column, “We are out to liberate Equestrian land and its citizens! I expect no resistance, but we must prepared to do whatever it takes! Start the engine, next stop is Fairbrittle!”

Grand Prix proudly watched as the assembled mob, shuffled it’s way back onto the train, ignoring how many of his soldiers were holding their spears upside down. A servant walked to Grand Prix with a bottle, “Do you wish to celebrate this occasion sir?”

Grand Prix greedily grabbed the bottle in his magic, but didn’t pull off the cork. Grand looked down at his foreleg, pulled down the chainmail to cover a large bruise, and handed the bottle back, “I… I’m… not thirsty.”

The servant reeled back, “But sir, it’s almost one o’clock. By now this would be your thi-…”

Grand Prix magically grabbed the collar of the servant, “I. Am. Not. Thirsty.” Grand stepped onto the train, but gave one more long look at the bottle, “... Leave it in my cabin. Do not tell my wife.”

The whistle blew, and the train was in motion.

Meanwhile in Canterlot...

The nobility cowered in their chairs as Celestia made her way up to the podium. The small regal smile was gone. It was replaced by a scowl of anger, one which many the nobles had only seen when Celestia faced down Chrysallis.

Celestia took her seat. “I have ruled Equestria for over a thousand years, and I have never seen such a disrespect for the peace and security of the realm. No noble has ever made such a blatant attempt to trigger a war, and by all the laws of Equestria, the Seats do not have the authority to invade sovereign nation. You will repeal this travesty, and publically apologize for wasting everypony’s time.”

Avidity pulled out her copy of the treaty, “Again, I must apologize, but you are simply mistaken. The treaty that handed over Fairbrittle and the surrounded land stated and I quote ‘Must, perpetually, be free of all arms, armours, and instruments of war.’ As the images clearly show, the Griffons have ignored that agreement, bringing their bows to rain death from the skies. To what end, I can only guess. Since they are breaching the treaty, the treaty no longer applies. Since the treaty no longer applies, the land returns to Equestria and put back under it’s rightful Lordship. So, I am not invading a sovereign nation, I am removing trespassers from my land.”

Celestia didn’t appear to move, but a large crack suddenly formed in her podium, “Archery is the most common sport in all of the Griffon Kingdoms. Those Griffons are at an archery range. Those bows are as much of a weapon as a child’s hoof ball.”

Avidity eyes went wide, her smile faded into a look of horror. “Really? I truly didn’t know. How could I assume…” She held her head low in shame. “I… really do owe you all an apology.”

Avidity looked back up, the wicked smile back in place. “I apologize for ever assuming that we could trust these children. If we cannot trust the Griffons to give up their toys, then there is no way we can trust them to rule over Equestrian citizens.”

Celestia’s podium cracked even more. “This action is far overstepping the power of the Nobility! You have forgotten your place-”

“NO!” Avidity shouted in return, “I believe you have forgotten your place. You rule Equestria because of the will of these Seats, and that will is entirely subject to change. It is clear that after a thousand years, that to has slipped from your mind. For only showing up to this emergency session after we have held vote, for damaging architecture that even predates your birth, and forgetting where the power in Equestria derives.”

Celestia remained silent, staring at Avidity with stern eyes,

“Such a shame,” Avidity shook her head, “It is clear all that needed to be said is said. I thank you all for coming on such short notice. The emergency has been resolved, you are all dismissed.”

With the exception of Fancy Pants, the gathered nobles, clamored out of the door, unwilling to be around the Princess’ anger for another second. Celestia stood in place, locked eyes with the smiling Avidity, before finally turning around, and walking out in silence.

3:25 PM, Fairbrittle, North Griffonia 1003 Y.A.B., 39th day of Fall

Jaine was antsy as she hovered in the air. The final day of Mercy, an entire day of fasting, till the sun set and the Feast begins. The Feast of Mercy was less than three hours away, and she was downwind from the town. She could smell the giant fire pits, already preparing the day’s meal. Jaine took a deep breath. “That must be the fried tuna… oh Sky, how long has it been since I had some fresh tuna?”

Yet, here she was, on watch. Jaine checked the Railroad’s watch again. “It’s alright Jaine… just watch the horizon, and ignore the delicious smells. Do not let it affect your mind, like make you think you’re seeing a train’s smoke trail on the horizon…”

Jaine stared at the horizon, trying to blink the hallucination away. It wasn’t going anywhere. She lifted up her binoculars. It wasn’t a hallucination.

Jaine checked her manifest. There was only one train scheduled, a freight train filled with supplies, and it had already come six hours ago.

Jaine lifted up her binoculars again. It was a passenger train, but it only had three passenger carts. Most importantly, it clearly was NOT an United EG engine. In fact, from the bright colors and the heart shaped window, it looked like it was from the Friendship Express, who had no business deal to use United EG tracks, or operate in North Griffonia. Jaine reached for her belt, pulled out her horn, and gave one loud blow to indicate a train’s immediate arrival, and two short blows to indicate the train was completely unscheduled and unknown. From the station, a horn blared back, indicating the message was received.

Jaine continued to watch the train as it passed the mile mark, “... I wonder why they haven’t pulled the stop horn yet…”

She watched the train as it got closer and closer. It looked like it was still moving a bit too fast. Jaine pulled out the watch, and timed how quickly it past the three quarter mile mark.

The train hadn’t started breaking.

Jaine pulled out the horn and blew multiple times. They had a runaway train. She flew back to the station, blowing into the horn as hard and as often as she could. As Jaine landed on the platform, crews ran or flew past her. The freight train was still sitting on the main tracks, directly inline for the oncoming Friendship Express.

Griffons and ponies, everyone from bystanders and to the station master himself, desperately pushed the engine and the cars to move them onto the station’s passing track. Engineers piled coal into the engine and tried to get a fire going. The Friendship Express finally blew it’s stopping whistle, but it was too late, there just wasn’t enough track left for that train to stop in time.

Jaine joined the mob, pushing the train and carts inch by inch. It was moving, but the Friendship Express was almost in the station, the crowd could hear the screeching breaks. Finally, the freight train’s last car was clear, and an engineer switched the tracks seconds before the runaway Friendship Express went straight through the station, and came to a screeching halt a hundred feet further down the line.

The station master, a gruff griffon landed at the cab’s door. “I do not care what you are here for. For your complete and utter disregard for the safety of this station, we are going to turn you around and you can fu-”

A spear point came from the cab, held right against the griffon’s chin, held in the magical grip of Grand Prix. The train horn blared twice, and slightly sick looking unicorn troops filed out of the passenger cars.

Grand Prix stepped in front of his troops, “For your complete and utter disregard for the signed accord between our two nations, by order of the High Horn and under the Authority of the Seats of Nobility, Fairbrittle and all the surrounding land has been returned to it’s rightful place under Equestrian rule. We are giving all the griffons in this town one hour to vacate.”

Grand Prix stood strong before his troops, staying silent against the uproar of anger and confusion. In his mind he was accessing the situation. Grand tallied the ever larger and angrier groups of Griffons around him. Grand tallied how few troops he had, and how little time he had to train them since Avidity had forced this plan upon him. Grand tallied all the drinks he should have had by this time of day and how much easier it would of been to ignore the lopsided mathematics of this situation. Finally, Grand tallied the amount of sweat that was rolling down his neck.

“They-y just pretend to be brutes, but they are all greedy cowards,” Grand Prix lied to himself, “Avidity will be happy, the family will be saved, and she will stop caring who I am with or what I put down my throat… I’m probably being merciful to even giving them a chance to retreat. Yeah, there is no way a bunch of greedy feathers could actually take unicorns in a fight… Yes, they are going to retreat… please let them retreat...”

The earth pony mayor Exec, and the well dressed heads of the mining operation, Quarry Stone and Adrian Falling, walked between the soldiers and crowd.

Exec took the order from Grand Prix, “It has the proper seals. It’s a legitimate order.”

Quarry stamped her hoof. “But this is North Griffonia, Equestria is no longer a legitimate authority here.”

Grand Prix’s magic snatched the paper back, “The Seats of Nobility are the oldest and most legitimate authority for any pony.” Grand Prix’s eyes looked between Quarry and Adrian, and noted how similarly they were dressed. “Clearly you decided you to ‘renounce’ your Equestiran heritage.”

Adrian stepped forward. “As co-representative of Equestria-Griffonia United, I am giving you one minute to vacate this town.”

The collective Griffons surrounding the small unicorn force started shouting, picking up anything within reach as a club. They moved closer and closer to Grand Prix and his force.

“STOP!”

An old Griffon in the robes of a Sister of the Sky landed on top of the train car, holding out the symbol of the Semith faith, the wings of the prophet. “Have you all forgotten what day it is? Our prophet Sema was sentenced to die, but she received mercy. Today is not a day for any bloodshed. Today is not the day for war."

Faithful griffons hung their heads in shame.

"We cannot choose death. This noble has forced our hands. Clearly there will be no peaceful action if we stay. Thus, we must leave.” The Sister of the Sky looked over the side of the train car, and down at Grand Prix, “Tomorrow will be the day for retribution.” She jumped into the air, and flew East. One by one, the crowd of griffons dispersed, some flying to their tents to grab as much as they could fly with, while others immediately flew off to the nearest city in North Griffonia.”

Adrian turned to Quarry, “Quarry, I… I need to… I just wanted to say…” She pulled Quarry into a hug. “ I… we will all be back soon.”

“You better be back soon partner,” Quarry said as she hugged back, “I won’t be able to spend all this money on my own.”

Adrian rubbed Quarry’s main. “You… could come with me.”

Quarry looked into Adrian eyes with confusion. “You’re going to carry me all they way out of Fairbrittle?”

Adrian rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I…”

Quarry put a hoof on Adrian’s cheek. “It will be fine, you will be back in a couple of days, and everything will be sorted out.”

Adrian smiled and nodded. “Yeah, this will all be taken care of… goodbye partner.”

Quarry returned the smile. “Goodbye partner.”

Adrian took off and headed East with the rest of the griffon flock.

Quarry turned to Grand Prix, a fire behind her eyes. “As co-representative of Equestria-Griffonia United, please get on that train and go. The griffons are going to want your head for this.”

Grand Prix turned to Quarry. “Ah, so you are Quarry?”

Quarry nodded. “Yes, and even if you try to hide behind the protection of Celestia, Unit-”

Grand Prix slammed the shaft of his spear against the side of Quarry’s head, knocking her to the ground. He turned to his stunned troops. “Since EG United has never made any deal with the rightful liege of these lands, we are seizing all EG United property and arresting all EG United employees as trespassers. Mayor, I will require your help to determine who is and isn’t a proper resident of this town.”

Grand Prix walked passed the dazed Quarry. “Lock her, and anypony else you find, up.”

Meanwhile in the Fairbrittle mines…

“Igneous rock, Igneous rock, kick the Metamorphic out of the way…” Maud thought up a new rock poem in her head. She was part of the front digging force, creating the main mine shaft as crews set up the ceiling support behind her. Even though the manager had made her slow down so the rest of the staff can keep pace, Maud had never been happier.

There was shouting. Maud ignored it. The rest of the ponies were leaving. Maud ignored it. Three shadows formed on the wall. Maud ignored it. A spear was held at her throat. Maud sighed, she couldn’t ignore it.

A unicorn soldier, who was clearly not comfortable with being underground, held out the spear. “By-y the order of the Noble consort, Grand Prix, I demand you stop kicking that wall and come with us immediately.”

Maud looked at the spear point. “Carbon-steel, dull and slightly rusting.”

The soldier looked at the walls. “What? What does that… nevermind, come out of hole now or I will have to forcibly detain you!”

Maud grabbed the spear head in her teeth, twisted her head, broke the spear head right off, chewed on it, swallowed the metal, and went back to work. That soldier ran out of the cave screaming, his two fellows followed. Maud was again alone with the earth, but not for long.

Four ponies came up behind her. Maud turned around to face Grand Prix. Without saying anything, Grand Prix blasted Maud with a beam of magic, burning her skin and sending Maud to the ground.

7:03 PM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 39th day of Fall.

The Feast of Mercy in Twistspire was the greatest feast of the year. Everyone in the city took their tables and chairs into the streets, forming a long, branching, interconnected table table for all to sit at. Everyone spends the day baking and cooking, frying and roasting, as much food as they can. It was a day to show a household’s mastery of the kitchen, to share their creations, and prove their culinary skills are greater than their neighbors. In the middle of the city was the grandest tables of all, the tables of the King.

Merchants and nobles vied for an invitation within the city’s central square, by bringing in the best food and best entertainment for all to city. While the Final Day of Mercy was a day without bloodshed, it was always a day of conflict.

King Rhosus sat across from Maria, Mother of the Kilise and the Matriarch of the Semith faith in North Griffonia. Between them, in theory at least, was the city’s direct center. Norah, and Richard were to Rhosus’ left, Darius, Cassandra, and Alexander were to Rhosus’ right. The Court Wizard Hywel and several of the guards stood behind their King, although the guards switched out often so everyone could enjoy the Feast. Cassandra had a seat, but as usual she was leaning against Darius’ chair instead, chatting away with Hywel on the matter of food and the arcane. The chair next to Alexander was empty, and Rhosus was silently praying to the Sky that it would not be filled.

Unfortunately, his prayers were not answered. A middle aged, white feathered griffon, dressed in her red cape and adorned with her old crown, walked down the path between the tables.

A courtier stood up, “Elena of Clan Fireeye, Queen Consort of the late King Gryphus III, is present before the Sky.”

A guard moved in front of Elena, so she handed over her sword. She gave an extremely low and overly dramatic bow to the King. “Rhosus.”

Rhosus eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Elena.”

“Mom!” Alexander flew into his mother’s arms.

Elena rubbed her youngest child’s back. “Oh Alex, you grown so much since I saw you,” Elena turned to Rhosus. “Four months ago.”

Darius stood up and embraced Elena in a large hug, “It’s so good to see you…”

Cassandra held out her claw.

Elena looked at her daughter, “Cassandra, do you think you’re too old to give the one who birthed you a hug?”

Cassandra didn’t say anything, but quickly wrapped her claws around Elena’s stomach, let go, and walked back to the table. Cassandra leaned against Norah’s seat, and continued her conversation with Hywel.

Elena beak clenched as she looked at her daughter and the hippogriff she was talking to, eyes lingering on Hywel’s cloven hooves, “Cassandra Ironclaw, please take your seat over here. It’s been so long, we need to talk.”

Cassandra ignored her.

Elena looked betrayed, giving a dirty look to Rhosus, but she sat down.

An awkward silence fell over the royal family. Rhosus prayed for something to break the silence. Unfortunately, his prayer was answered.

A griffon came over the roof of the city’s square, flying down to the king. The guards moved to intercept, but Rhosus held up a claw. The small griffon was wearing wind goggles and the pendant of a noble’s messenger, with a scroll tied to her claw. The messenger landed behind the King, breathing heavily. The guards reflexively surrounded her. The messenger undid the knot, and held out the scroll. Hywel grabbed it, checking it for poisons, spells, and even gunpowder. When he found none, Hywel handed it to King Rhosus.

The King unrolled the scroll and read the message. A silence fell over the crowd as they all turned to their King. Rhosus blinked in shock, and read the message again, his mind rejecting the absurdity, “No… no, Equestria of all places…”

“Messenger,” Rhosus stated, “What is your name?”

The messenger stopped massaging her exhausted wings. “Lucy of Clan Gemholme, sir.”

“Lucy, is this true?” Rhosus asked in a dejected voice, “Did you see this with your own eyes?”

Lucy looked at the ground, “While I wasn’t there, I saw our kin fleeing from the East, weak from a long flight, and heard from a few of them before I was sent here to deliver the message to you.”

Rhosus looked around to the crowds, “All the Mothers of the faith, all heads of the Great clans, meet me in my court. I will need council on how to respond to an act of war by... Equestria.”

Author's Note

All times indicate the time it is in Canterlot. No location within the story will be more than two hours offset from Canterlot itself, so you do not have to worry to much about timezones.

King Rhosus, Darius, Cassandra, and Alexander

Court Wizard Hywel

Historical Notes: Trains throughout history always have taken a long time to come to a full stop. Improvement in breaking systems have been counteracted by increases in train hauling weights, thus increasing a train's inertia. That is why going under the train crossing signals is an extremely stupid thing to do. The train can see your car stuck on the tracks for over a mile, but by the time the conductor sees you it is far to late for them to bring the train to a halt.

Watching people fight has been a form of entertainment since ancient times. While the amount of blood and death varied, although even the famous Roman Gladiators often lived to fight another day, violence has been a spectacle, and in many ways continues to be a spectacle.

Great games were often used as a way to please the populace, but has backfired countless times. In the late eastern Roman Empire (normally called the Byzantine Empire, although the Empire was still officially Βασιλεία Ῥωμαίων, Imperial Rome), had Chariot Racing. The main teams, the Blues and the Greens, were one part sport team, one part political party, and one part uncontrolled mob, who rioted and even one point burned down a huge chunk of Constantinople (including the original Hagia Sophia) whenever the Emperor blatantly went against their wishes.

4. Point of No Return

6:24 PM, Manehatten, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 42nd day of Fall.

Blood rolling down sides. Ears ringing. Beak chipped. Ganissaries down. Screaming.

“Doesn’t matter, protect!” his old drill sergeant's voice echoed through the young griffon guard’s head.

Owen forced himself up onto his claws and paws, and rushed over to the table. One of Fancy Pant’s hind leg was torn off in the blast, with only a small movement of his chest indicating any kind of life. Richard had a piece of metal sticking through his skull. Shame coursed through Owen’s veins. They had failed their duty and let him die.

Norah was on her back. Both of her wings were gone. Most of her feathers and fur were burned. Commander Bey was already pressing her claws into Norah chest to keep the ambassador alive, ignoring the shrapnel through her armor and into her stomach.

“It was that mare!” A recovering Ganissary yelled, “She threw the bomb! STOP!”

Three Ganissaries literally flew into the crowd. Owen barely registered their movement, or the shrill scream of a stallion that immediately followed, or the orders Bey yelled after the trio. All he could do was just look at the broken body of kind woman he was suppose to give his life to protect.

“OWEN! OWEN!”

Owen looked into Bey’s eyes.

“We need to get Norah to the hospital NOW,” Bey grabbed Norah’s shoulders. Owen instinctively grabbed her legs. They took flight and were out the front door in seconds. In the streets below ponies were rushing towards the restaurant. Neither of them cared and turned to the east. Bey tried to keep Norah’s neck still as possible, but sacrificed a smooth flight for speed. They navigated based on the city maps they had memorized, and soon found the hospital, “An heir to a Kingdom is about to die!”

The medical staff got her onto a stretcher, and raced Norah to the emergency room. The head nurse protested against their presence, but Owen and Bey refused to leave Norah’s side.

The head doctor put his head against Norah’s chest. The doctor frowned. She magically opened an eyelid and fired a small beam a light into Norah’s eye. The frown deeped. Finally, the doctor rested his horn against Norah’s scalp.

The doctor sighed, “She is gone, there is nothing I can do.”

“BULLSHIT!” Owen’s claws went around the doctor’s neck, “Use your horn, use a spell, you can do something!”

“Owen, let him go.”

The pressure on the doctor’s windpipe was released. The two griffons turned to Norah’s body. Bey moved over and closed her eyes. Owen placed a claw against the body. They both began to pray in unison, “Hear our words, oh holy Sky, for Norah has drawn her last breath. She has mastered her art. She has earned her rest. As her body becomes one with the soil, let her soul take flight up in your eternal winds.”

The two of them stood their staring at the body. Owen cried, “...How could I let this happen? I gave my soul for this...”

“No,” Bey said quietly, “You did everything I ordered you to. I should’ve stopped that fucking dance, I should’ve searched every inch of that damn place. I shouldn’t of been a fool and thought that Equestria was safe. This is a failure of my honor and-”

“COMMANDER!”

A bruised Ganissary, bleeding heavily above his left eye, breathed heavily in the doorway. Bey responded “Devlin, where is the assassin? Where are your comrades?”

Devlin raised his bloody claw, “I had her in our claws, but the pony guards ran in. They betrayed us, they attacked us. The assassin got away. I was the only one to escap. Is Norah...”

“On the eternal winds,” Bey answered quick, “What did the assassin look like?”

“Chestnut fur with greenish, no… uhh... olive mane, with an emerald cutie mark that had some kind of line through it. Her left flank has three claw marks on it…”

The sound of echoing hooves grew behind Devlin. He turned around and backed up into the room as four Pegasus guards walked down the hall. The pony in front spoke, “Listen, I don’t know what is going on, but I have my orders. Please, surrender your swords, come quietly, and I am sure we can all work this out…”

In one swift move, Bey wrapped around the bed sheets around Norah’s body, picked her up, and jumped out the window. Owen and Devlin followed a second after.

The pegasus guards pursued.

Every wing beat pushed the shrapnel further into Bey’s side. Her breathing became labored. She wouldn’t even make it out of the city. Devlin was slowly following behind to his own injuries.

“Owen,” Bey said as she held out the corpse, “Take Norah and fly home. Everyone needs to know of my failure and this betrayal. GO.”

Owen bowed his head, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as Norah was out of Bey’s grasp, she turned tailed and charged their pursuers. Owen veered towards the ocean and flew towards the coming blanket of night.

Meanwhile in Canterlot…

Celestia stood in her study, a magically paper floating in front of her face. The Princess had called upon her more covert means of intelligence, but she had been a fool. She had been searching for straight forward bribes, promises for future votes, blackmail, all the usual ways the nobility bargained for supporter. One of her agents had managed to crack the plot.
Dear Celestia,
In the Noble Bank business registry, we have discovered this document submitted by Avidity Prix.

New Way Mining co.

Stated purpose: To take advantage of new opportunities to bring wealth into the realm.

Stockholders(s): The Noble and Ancient House of Prix.

Registered: 27th day of Fall.

Assets: None

Employees: None

Capital: 0 b.

Investmentors: None

Current Company evaluation: 0 b.

Signed: Record Clerk

It is a worthless company, yet Avidity had signed out and issued exactly 118 stocks with dividends attached, each stock worth 0.635% of the company, promising the same percentage of the company's gross profits. The Prix house only retains 25% of the ownership of the company. None of these stocks have entered the open market. The stocks were valued to be currently worth zero bits and have not appeared in any stock market. RG "conversed" with a noble and has confirmed Avidity given out the stocks to the rest of the nobility through the bank, but has made sure the bank itself actually holds the physical stock papers.
-SD

Celestia levitated her copy of the book of Noble Law to a bookmarked page.

Bribery Act of 743: Noble bribery is hence forth defined of the exchange of bits, objects, and titles with real monetary worth, or spells, incantations, and substances with demonstrable magical potential in attempts to gain votes in the seats...

Magically shut, the book dropped to the ground at the Princess' feet, "Why was I foolish enough to believe the nobles would turn to me to pull them out of the hole they dug themselves into?"

This was all legal wrangling that no reasonable judiciary would accept. However by not so ancient right, the nobles could only be judged by their fellow nobles. When such massive amounts of bits were on the line, the Seats would allow even the most absurd twisting of the law. Many parts of Avidity’s plans remained elusive. It didn’t matter, Celestia had her evidence. All she needed to do was prove the conspiracy.

“Tomorrow,” Celestia smiled to herself, “I will walk in the Seats with Norah, and I will reclaim the proper destiny for-”

All thoughts were cut out as Celestia collapsed. Her legs felt brittle, her body was freezing, her vision was going dark.

And in an instant, it was over. Celestia got to her hooves and looked out a window to the East. A grim expression plastered on her face.

She shook her head and continued to read.

11:58 PM, Over the Celestial Sea, 1003 y.a.b., 42nd day of Fall.

Strained muscles, sore claws, aching back, growling stomach, heavy eyes.

“Doesn’t matter keep flying… doesn’t matter keep flying…” Owen body was in a desperate state. Flying for far too long in plate mail with a corpse in hand. Didn’t dare even remove one claw from the body to remove armor to lighten the load. Even with the moon to guide him, Owen found himself drifting off course. He looked below.

The light of a grand vessel shown through the night. It was a tempting roosting spot, but it was headed west to Equestria. He needed something heading east.

Near the northern horizon was the shadow of a boat. It was a small boat, yet they had a large amount of gas lamps pointing at the sea.

“Lights like that means squid fishers,” Owen’s realized, “Fishers would almost certainly be griffons… almost.”

Without options, Owen took the gamble and descended. He circled the boat to kill his speed, and landed with a thump.

“Mate, are you alright?”

Owen looked up into the cragily old face of feathers and a beak. He sighed in relief, “By the authority of the crown and for the good of the realm, I beg of you, set course for Twistspire.”

The captain nodded.

8:40 AM, Outside of Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 42th day of Fall.

Lines stretched for a mile. It had been awhile since a full moblization had been called, and the population was enthusiastic for war. Griffons, many too young or too old, crowded in inspection lines such as this, to prove the sharpness of both their weapons and their skills. Almost everyone was excited to be there.

“Next!”

Wallace stood, hands tight on his two bows, pulling at the collar of his gambeson and the belt to his saddle bag. Thankfully, the worst he had been given was some stink eyes and the occasional slur. Thankfully, it wouldn’t last much longer, Wallace was able to see the front of the line.

“Next!”

This particularly line was moving far faster than it had any sane right to be. A grey gruff griffon stood at the inspection table at the front of the line. She was suppose to be curtailing the recruits, making sure the weapons were in a decent shape before the martial tests, no equipment was stolen, and making sure no one outside of the legal age range was attempting to join. Yet, all she was doing was taking a signature (or claw print from the illiterate) and yelling “Next” even as a griffon too young for the Youth Brigade came forward holding a rusty arquebus almost as long as he was tall.

“Next.”

In the sea of brown, tan, white, and grey, a few bright, primary colors caught Wallace’s eye. Two pegasus mares stood several in adjacent lines. The first had light blue coat with a dark red mane with a thin streak of a much lighter red running down the middle, the same color as her eyes. She carried a halberd in her left fletlock. The pegasus was adorned immaculate curiass, with a beautiful helmet. All fitted to her form, yet in the Griffonian styles. She wasn’t wearing her full set of armor, as her cutie mark, two crossed dueling spears, was visible to all. The pony caught Wallace’s eye and gave a friendly wave. Wallace gingerly returned it.

“Next.”

The other pegasus was no in the same joyful mood. The green haired, orange pony trudged forward. Her armor wasn’t as fancy, a simple morion helmet was strapped to her head, her body armor looked like a worn out steel version of the Equestrian guard’s armour. She appeared to be wearing the entire set, with chain mail covering her limbs, and additional leather padding underneath the chain. Wallace couldn’t see her cutie mark, and the scowl the pegasus gave him made him shift his gaze back forward.

“Next.”

Wallace was just one spot away from being the front of the line, “Alright, she will just stamp that I haven’t dodged the draft, get my signature, and yell next.”

“Next.”

The gruff griffon looked straight into Wallace’s eyes. Hey eyes narrowed, “What are you doing here?”

“I-I am here to answer the call,” Wallace stated.

“Drafted?” The gruff griffon said with a huff, “Of course, not like your kind would fight willingly... Name?”

“Wallace.”

“No clan?” The griffon asked, before chuckling, “Should’ve known. Halfbreeds don’t deserve it anyway...”

At agonizingly slow speed, the gruff griffon looked down the draft list. Impatient whispers grew louder behind Wallace. His heart was pounding, the sides of his head were aching

“Ah, the house of Ayla of clan Rusttip and Wallace,” the gruff griffon laughed, “You’re one of them lucky ones who found another freak that actually has a clan.”

Wallace’s claws cut into the dirt as they tried to ball up into fists.

“Now show me your wooden sword or pointy stick so we can move on…” The inspector started before she laid eyes on the pair of unstrung warbows in Wallace’s bow quiver, “Where under the Sky did you get those?”

“I am a bower,” Wallace stated, trying to ignore the impatient whispers that had ceased being whispers some time ago, “My wife and I crafted them.”

The inspector’s eyes narrowed, “Hand them over.”

Wallace very reluctantly pulled the twin bows out of the quiver, and handed his craftsmanship over to the inspector. It was a beautiful composite bow, a mix of horn and yew, with a few designs around the riser, including small imprints of Alya’s favorite flower. The inspector tried to string the bow, unable to overcome it’s 90 pound draw weight. She called over a guard, who struggled but managed to hook the string.

The line behind Wallace had started shouting.

“Come on already!”

“Let the halfbreed through!”

“The sun has moved 5 degrees across the sky since this line has ceased to function!”

“I wanna shoot shit!”

The inspector pulled the string back on one bow has far as she could, and dry fired it. Wallace flinched. The inspector dry fired the other bow, hurting her hand in the process, “...Guards! I think the half breed has stole these. Please, escort Wallace away for some further...”

“That will not be necessary.”

Everyone turned to a heavily decorated female griffon walking behind the inspection table.

“General Isabelle!” The inspector said nervously, “I assure you we have this situation under control…”

“I found a twelve year old child on the firing range,” Isabelle stated in explosive voice, “Said child said you signed him through.”

“They’re getting so tall these days,” the inspector mumbled, “They looked of age to-”

“They?”

The feathers of the inspector were stained with sweat, “Well, what I meant was...”

“What is happening with him?” Isabelle asked, pointing at Wallace.

“I was in the process of detaining him. Nothing about his story added up! I was just following the correct procedure-”

“Kathrine,” Isabelle stated through a clenched beak, “If your resignation is not in my tent in one hour, I will personally pull you into a court martial before the King himself for you’re blindness and insolence.”

Inspector Kathrine stared at the general as if she was just stabbed through the chest. Fear gave way to rage, “Listen here, I was fighting for this country when your litter still stank of your mother's blood. I don’t care what your rank is, I did my due and I will not be thrown out by a child who managed to suck her way-”

Isabelle’s buckler slammed into Kathrine’s stomach. The old griffon fell to the ground, “Kathrine, you have disgraced my person and disobeyed my commands. You will be charged before a court of my peers, and will never serve directly under me again if by whatever slim chance you are allowed to remain in arms in defense of North Griffonia.”

Guards dragged the coughing Kathrine away. Isabelle sat in the inspectors chair.

“I am sorry about that,” Isabelle stated flatly, “Wallace was it?”

Wallace nodded in near shock.

Isabelle picked up the discard quill, filled out the paper work herself, “Just sign here.”

The quill flew across the paper as Wallace signed, “...Thank you.”

Isabelle took a moment to inspect the bows before handing them over, “If your archery is anywhere near as good as your bowery, I think you will do just fine in the tests. Dismissed.”

9:36 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 42nd day of Fall.

Within the grand walls of the Muhtesem, Rhosus steeled himself for another fight. Alexander and Cassandra leaned against his throne, Darius sat in his own chair. While they said nothing, Rhosus couldn’t imagine holding out against the coming barrage without their silent support.

Everyday, the Pride had gathered. Everyday, the Pride had demanded his presence. Everyday, they demanded war. The Noble Warriors argued that there hadn’t been a great conflict to make them proud of their own nation. The Sisters of the Faith argued that Equestrias actions were unforgivable and required retribution. Even the new Industrialists argued that they had been preparing to expand under the assumption they would have plentiful coal to fuel the fires of industry.

Everyday Rhosus denied their greed, misguided faith, and bloodlust.

As the Pride made it’s last minute discussion on the day’s plan of attack, with Elena readying to give a speech, Rhosus eyes were drawn to a commotion at the door. The Ganissary came through the door to her commander, exchanging words. Even from the great distance, Rhosus’s eagle eyes allowed him to see look the commander gave to his underline. A look of absolute disbelief. The commander followed the Ganissary through the door. After the moment, both doors were thrown wide open.

Another Ganissary walked through holding something in a dirty white sheet. All the conversations were silenced as the guard walked on his hind legs, struggling with the load in his arms. He smelled of salt, sweat, and blood. His face was pained, but whatever physical pain he felt was overshadowed by the shame and sadness all over his face. Rhosus recongized the figure. It was Owen, a new but promising young guard, who had gone off to Equestria with...

“Norah?” Rhosus stood from his chair. Owen finally met the King’s gaze. A soldiered hardened to lay down his life, stood in the middle of the court paralyzed. Legs shook, tears rolled down his face, but Owen could not force himself to move one step forward.

He bent down, laying the sheet down onto the floor.

King Rhosus walked forward. Claws were rigid, paws were heavy. His talons touched the sheet, and pulled it aside. Norah’s face laid on the ground, eye closed, most of her feathers gone, body mutilated.

“Norah…”

In his eyes, he did not see the daughter he had watched sail off to Equestria. He saw a little fowl. A featherless baby, wrapped in a white blanket, held tight in her mother’s arms.

“My Norah…”

Tears rolled down Rhosus’ beak. He pulled the body into an embrace. Warm arms didn’t wrap around the torso his torso. No head rested on his shoulder. All there was was cold skin and limp limbs. His claw felt the stumps of her wings.

Those claws balled up. Rhosus could feel some else besides the grief. The rage he had been repressing, the rage he had been putting down since that messenger interrupted the holiest of nights with the gravest of news, the rage that had been festering every single day the Pride had beaten him with their demands for blood, boiled over.

Rhosus looked away from his daughter to Owen. With a cracking voice, Rhosus asked, “What happened? Why is my Norah… Why did you let her die?”

Owen continued to stare at the floor, “A bomb. A pony threw a bomb on a dinner plate. We were dumb enough not to catch it. I… I tried my liege. Richard died instantly... We flew her to the hospital… but it was too late. The Sky had already swept her away...”

Owen breathed in deeply, finally staring at his King, wanting to cry but had long run out of his own tears, “We were betrayed. My comrades had that murderer in their claws, but the Equestrian guards attacked us. Bey stood and fought so I could bring Norah… home.”

Rhosus sat in the middle of the court. No words spoken, the only sound were of Alexander’s sobs and the rustle of feathers as Cassandra held onto her younger brother. In an instant, Rhosus exploded with rage, “Hywel! Dragon dust! Paper! Now!”

His court wizard handed him the parchment. Rhosus pulled a knife from his belt, “In witness of the Sky, for retribution of crimes, we need to act. To ask for you to spill your blood, I will my own.”

Rhosus pulled back the knife, ready to cut the opposing claw, ready condemn his nation to war. A claw grabbed his wrist. The King turned to find Darius holding him back.

Tears stained Darius’ face, but a look of determination covered the grief.

“Rhosus,” Darius shook his head, “Father, please ask yourself, is this what Norah would want?”

Darius’s eyes turned to his adoptive sister, “She would’ve died for you, she would’ve died for any of us. I swear upon the Sky I will tear the monster who did this to Norah to shreds and bury the rat within the deepest pit. Wherever you ask me to go, I will follow. But Norah… Norah was the strongest of us. She dedicated her life to peace. I don’t want to sour her memory by just heading off to war.”

Rhosus stared at Darius. The grip on the knife tightened. The blade was shaking. Finally, Rhosus dropped the knife.

The king stood up, walked back to his throne. Every eye tracked the King’s movements.

Elena broke the silence, “Rhosus! They killed my niece, they killed our future Queen, they killed your daughter. You’re just going to let Equestria get away with this travesty? Rhosus!”

The entire Pride broke their silence. Each and every one calling for blood.

Rhosus wanted to head their call, wanted to march straight through Tartarus itself if it meant he could have his revenge. Yet, Norah wouldn’t. Norah was always willing to give one more chance.

The Pride yelled, and Rhosus wrote. The Pride stood up, and Rhosus wrote. The Pride made demands bordering on treason, and Rhosus wrote.

King Rhosus handed the letter to Hywel, who sent it away in a puff of green smoke.

“Twenty four hours!” Rhosus once again stood to silence the Pride, “That is all I ask of you. In memory of Norah, I ask only for twenty four hours. If Equestria has not surrendered to each and every demand, we will be at war.”

Meanwhile in Canterlot…

On the outside, Celestia maintained her regal stance, confident stride, and motherly smile. Her staff bowed, her subjects threw themselves at the floor as she passed. The Princess was all loving, the princess is all knowing. Who wouldn’t assume when they saw that white alicorn walking around mere mortals?

On the inside, Celestia could barely hold herself together. It has been centuries since she had felt such anxiety. Even after her sister returned, and Discord broke free, in her heart Celestia knew everything was ultimately going to end up all right. For the first time in centuries, Celestia felt as clueless as anypony else.

“Maybe I should announce I am going on a flight?” Celestia wondered as she walked the street of Canterlot followed by her two pegasus guards, “I could fly out, find the train and…”

A green burst of flame dropped a letter in front of Celestia’s face.

Ultimatum

Norah and Richard, the future rulers of my nation, are dead. By a pony in your lands when they were under your protection. I demand immediate retribution. I want the murderer’s head. If you do not accept these demands and stop the horrors that have fallen under your rule, I swear by the flesh of my mother, the blood of my father, and all that are hit by the light of your sun, I hold all these sins upon you.
Fairbrittle will be immediately returned to my Kingdom. The noble who invaded my land will be handed over to be tried and face justice for their crimes against my people.Richard’s body shall be sent back to his home.All Ganissaries in Equestrian custody will be released.My investigators will be given full police rights in Equestria to investigate this travesty and bring the pony responsible to retribution. All of this is far less than you deserve, but it is what Norah would’ve wanted. You have twenty four hours.

Celestia blinked, and read the message again. Her mind refused to accept it’s absurd message. She looked for signs of forgery. There wasn’t a seal, each word was jagged with hostility, but the handwriting was Rhosus’. The only magic on the page was the lingering effects of the dragon dust. It was real.

They were dead.

“Who did this? How could one of my little ponies do this? What happened to Fancy and Fluer? Blueblood?”

Celestia spread her wings and flew back to the castle.

12:04 PM, Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 42th day of Fall.

In the former mayor’s object, two objects floated in the air. A bottle of griffon whisky a tape measure.

“How can there only be one inch left?” Grand Prix thought, “How is this suppose to last me the entire day?”

His vacation from his wife was turning into a nightmare of stress. A part of Grand wished Avidity was here to just solve all the problems. A deep dark part of him that the rest of his mind ridiculed and was ashamed of, but it was there.

The earth ponies and pegasusi wouldn’t stop complaining. About the poor food, about being in the sun, about having their wings tied up, about not getting representation, about being kept in a giant ditch. Even the unicorns in the town, and some of his own guards had expressed concern. Grand poured a small amount into a glass, “They should’ve thought about that before I tram… before trampling over my rights.”

He had visited that pit every day. Seeing all those ponies covered in dirt. In particular, he remembered the scares on the grey mare he had blasted, the burnt mark on her neck, and the large gash on her scalp, “No, they don’t have to stay down there. I should just confine them to their homes. I should go to that mare and...”

Grand downed the drink, “No, not important, they… they deserve that.”

Grand poured some more into his glass. Avidity hadn’t sent the workers she had promised. Instead, she had been sending him letters demanding that coals needs to be packed onto trains immediately. The last letter had even said, Either pull the bottle out of your throat, and get that black gold out of the ground, or you will find your digging the mine yourself.”

“Bitch.” Grand downed the glass, only to put a hoof to his stomach.

Worst of all, somepony had found Grand’s alcohol stash and had shattered it. The only booze Grand had managed to find that hadn’t already been gourged on by his troops was this griffon whiskey. It tasted like lantern oil and his stomach felt like it was trying to digest rusted nails.

“I hate this shit,” Grand thought as he poured out the rest of the bottle into the glass.

Rocks cannot come out of the ground by themselves. He needed miners.

“Am I supposed to get my troops to dig out rocks?” Grand said aloud as he shifted the glass in , “That job is beneath unicorns… not that my troops listen to my commands in the first place. They have the easier job in the world guarding those pegasus and mudponies…”

Grand stopped spinning his glass, “Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I already have all the workers I need!”

The glass slammed against the desk. Elation rose from his stomach, Grand Prix finally felt good about what he was doing.

Grand then had to put his head into a garbage can, as the elation was swiftly followed by vomit.
3:45 PM, Canterlot, Equestira, 1003 y.a.b., 42nd day of Fall.

Count Prace kept fidgeting in her seat. Avidity was organizing her papers for the expected debate with the Princess and the feathered ambassador. Prace was trying to act calm, to not catch the High Horn’s attention. Last night, Prace had squealed.

Bells rang throughout the house. Somepony was at the door. Prace waited. The ringing became louder. It took a long time for Prace to remember she no longer had any attendants to open the door.
The count walked down the hall, and magically pulled the door open. A large stallion stood outside the door, dressed in a simple tie and suit. Prace couldn’t help but to stare.
The stallion smiled, “Oh, hello, you must be Count Prace. I am from the bank. I am here to talk about your debt.”
Prace shook her head, and nodded, “The debt? Oh…!”
The stallion looked at his clipboard, “You’re late on too many payments. The bank only choice will be to reprocess your property and take your house.”
“You can’t do that!” Prace said in shock, “My family lived in this place for generations… I can’t… I was promised...”
“Do you know of any large amount of income coming your way?” the stallion said with a pout, “It will be so hard for me to come back and move you out of this place.”
“Yes!,” Prace said, “Yes! If you would just please… come inside and I will tell you…”

Prace had a hard time remembering exactly what happened after she started to pour the wine, but knew she had told that handsome stallion everything. Avidity had told her that the mining stocks would be her last chance to remain a count, the last chance to save her home before being dumped onto the street as a commoner. Avidity had also stated that the deal is off if Prace told anybody else. Not Prace’s friends, not her husband, not even the old mule working in Prace’s kitchen.

Prace justified it to herself. “The stallion was from the bank, he had said so! I am sure no harm could come from that…”

Count Prace glanced up to Avidity, only to meet a glare of hatred from the High Horn. The look only lasted a second, replaced in an instant by Avidity’s neutral expression. The message had been brief but clear. Avidity Prix knew of Prace’s treachery.

Prace’s heart sank. She loved her home, she grew up in it, her children had grown up in it, her husband had died in it. The count was ruined.

Princess Celestia walked through the door. Celestia’s normal absolutely silent stride had been replaced with a much heavier gait. The royal horseshoes clanged against the marble floor. Without pause for formalities, Celestia sat opposite to Avidity.

Duchess Avidity, High Horn to steeled herself for a heavy defense, “Princess Celestia, the Seats…”

“The Griffonian ambassadors, Norah and Richard, are dead.”

Avidity blinked and stared at Celestia.

“A assassin, who appears of of been a pony, blew them up within Manehatten. Fleur de Lis and Fancy Pants were caught in the blast. Even my Nephew was hurt during the confusion.”

A breath of shock went through the room. Equestria had seen monsters, elderich threats, even a bug masquerading as a princess, but such a heartless murder? A heartless murder of nobility none the less?

Avidity leaned over her podium, confusion all over her face, “How is Fancy and Fleur?”

Celestia broke Avidity’s eye contact and looked down, “Fleur is in a stable condition. Fancy was still in the emergency room.”

Avidity leaned back. Prace saw the confusion shift into worry, but could swear she saw the ghost of a smile adorned Avidity’s face.

Celestia eyes returned to Avidity, “King Rhosus learned of these events. He has sent me an ultimatum because of this travesty. If these Seats ignore any one of Rhosus’ three demands, Equestria will be at war.”

Prace saw the ultimatium. While she was getting up in age, her eyesight was still very good. She couldn’t make out what was written, but it looked like there were five things listed, and two of them had been crossed out.

Murmurs spread throughout the Seats. Avidity ignored them, “What are the demands?”

Celestia held up the ultimatum with her magic, “North Griffonian police officers must be given authority to investigate the assassination and arrest any responsible. Fairbrittle will be returned to Rhosus. Finally… Avidity, you will have to go to North Griffonia for questioning about your occupation of their land.”

Celestia tore her eyes away from the High Horn and looked upon the gathered nobles throughout the room, “My little ponies, this decision cannot be held up or debated. We have until tomorrow’s dawn to answer this call, or else you condemn all of Equestria to battle a nation which for so long has been our friend. In the name of the founders, in witness of Equestria, I call the vote. Accept all the of Rhosus’ demands, and let Equestria continue onto its proper path. All in-”

“I invoke my right to speak,” Avidity said, a smile crossing her face, “For I know what game out princess is playing.”

Celestia look back at the High Horn, every pretense of the motherly smile erased. Celestia was scowling.

“I have recently discovered your investigation. You have been looking into all of the nobles. You have even employed some,” Avidity looked straight in Count Prace’s eyes, “Underhoofed tactics to gain your information. Think I have created conspiracy at the expense of the realm.”

Celestia’s scowl deepened.

“I admit it! I used intrige. I used my business prowess. Yes, I will admit it, I made a conspiracy.”

Many of the nobles looked at each other nervously, considering their current position.

“However, that conspiracy was for the good of the realm,” Avidity slammed a hoof into the podium, “We had all made a mistake. We had all allowed our own fellow ponies to come under their rule. I rectified that injustice while you sat and did nothing.”

“That is up for your peers to decide,” Celestia stated.

Avidity raised herself so both hooves were planted on her podium so she was at the same eye level of Celestia, “You know you have no case, you know somewhere in your heart I have done nothing wrong. You can’t risk the Seats voting with me, so you are throwing me to the Griffons at the first opportunity that has presented itself to you.”

Celestia stood higher, putting her once again above Avidity, “You would have the best representation Equestria has to offer…”

“We both know that wouldn’t matter,” Avidity remained in place refusing to relent, “This wouldn’t be a questioning, it would be an execution. I would be a sacrifice to their sky god. If you hand me over, what’s stopping you from handing over *every* noble who voted with me or has given their support for the economic boom that Fairbrittle represents?”

Celestia wings twitched, itching to fly above the High Horn to show who was in power, “Avidity, I raised you to the position of High Horn, I never thought you would be so reckless as to-”

“AUNTIE!”

All heads shifted to the door. Blueblood had barged through the door. A huge bandage covered half of his face, “Auntie, look what those clawed brutes did to me! Why haven’t you taken care of them?”

Celestia closed her eyes, “Blueblood, this is a very horrible time. We can talk about this later.”

Avidity turned to the Prince, “What clawed brutes?”

“The griffon guards!” Blueblood pressed a hoof to the bandage, “One of them just jumped at me and ripped my face off! I demanded immediate justice, we had them in the jail, but all the ponies in Manehatten said I had to wait !”

Celestia eyes went wide, “Blueblood, you ordered the ganissaries locked up?”

“The ganissaries were attacking your nephew?” Avidity said with a hoof to her mouth, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Celestia did not look back at Avidity, “Blueblood, I know you’re confused, but that griffon did not mean to attack you. They were trying to catch whoever threw the bomb…”

Avidity’s smile grew, “Well, we can have that all sorted out with a neat trial. I am sure the Manehatten justice system is certain up to the task of determining guilt and innocence in this particular case.”

Celestia returned Avidity’s sight, barring down with the angriest for the Princess look Count Prace had ever seen.

“Avidity,” Celestia state slowly, “Those guards were part of a diplomatic mission. Nopony had any right to detain them, and Rhosus had requested I arranged their return.”

“So you just let the griffons who assaulted your own nephew go?” Avidity asked in earnest.

“What?” Blueblood exclaimed, “You couldn’t just let them go, could you auntie?”

Celestia remained silent.

“These are the kind of creatures you want to surrender our sovereignty to? You want legions of their police forces to have the power to arrest anypony even when their diplomatic troops cannot even restrain themselves from mutilating the family of monarch who controls the sun?

Celestia continued to be silent.

Avidity took one long, deliberate look at the half repaired hole Celestia had made in their last encounter, before addressing the Seats, “This ultimatum is a bluff. A lie. Equestria is the richest and strongest nation on the planet. The sun and moon are within our power, as are the most powerful magic in the entire world. The death of such noble blood is a tragedy. From what I understand she rejected the nature of her species and was one of the good griffons of the world. My heart goes out to Fancy and Fleur for their recovery. However, we cannot accept these demands. Only the greatest of fools would dare attack our home. If Rhosus’ grief turns to madness, and he does actually declares war, the same forces that bested Nightmare Moon, Discord, and the Changeling hordes will easily defeat some griffons with pointy swords and loud sticks.”

“All opposed to the vote?” Avidity held up a hoof.

The vast majority of the Seats raised their hooves. A few ponies like Count Prace quickly followed when the vast majority was in favor. Avidity once again caught Prace’s eye, but gave the Count a smile instead.

Celestia saw the raised hooves. A limbs few shook under her gaze, but remained high. The Princess saw the smile adorning the High Horn’s face. Celestia again walked down the steps in defeat. Half way down the stares, Celestia paused. The princess did and said nothing, and promptly continued to the door.

Count Prace blinked, unsure what she had just seen. She shook her head, her eyes must of started to fail her. For a second, she could’ve sworn she saw Celestia’s horn covered in the Princess’ golden aura. Prace shook her head, “Trick of the light…”

9:00 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

Rhosus sat on Norah’s bed. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in here. Alone with Norah’s sheets, her certificate of apprenticeship, even her old domino set. All he knew, the sun had risen, and it still didn’t feel real.

He wanted to live the good memories, want to come here and remember Norah at her best. Yet all he could remember were all the times he didn’t have time for his daughter, all the times his duties to the crown pulled him away.

“That’s why she apprenticed as a diplomat,” Rhosus thought miserably, “She… just wanted a chance to come be with me… I brought her along this path and she is dead...”
The door opened, Hywel stood in the door frame. A frown adorned the court wizard’s face, “No word Rhosus. No word from Celestia. No word from Equestria. It is almost time”

The chain was complete, the line was set. A chain of unlikely events, a crushing line of causality had led to this one moment. Everything had aligned itself for the fall. Only one stood against the fall.

“Sir, there has been a pony patiently waiting with me,” Hywel stated, “And wishes to speak with you.”

Hywel stepped out of the frame to allow ambassador Astera Nocturna to walk through the door.

“Ki… Rhosus, may I come in?” Astera asked in a humbled tone. Rhosus nodded. Astera walked through the door, Hywel closing it behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” Astera said, staring at the papers along the wall, “I… I wish…”

“No, I am sorry,” Rhosus stated, “I allowed this, the things I have done have led to this. I should have accepted your meetings, I should’ve had you work with Norah to solve the problem here rather than sending her away. Maybe… maybe none of this would be happening.”

“There doesn’t have to be any more deaths,” Astera Nocturna said, “Please, all off this war.”

Rhosus said, “No.”

Astera pleaded, “There will be no winner in this war! If we fight, it will be the end of everything we know, it will be the end of us both. Please, call off this madness.”

Rhosus said, “No.”

Astera drops onto his knees, “If you do this, it will be a slaughter. I beg of you, in the name of everything that is good in this world, call off this war.”

Rhosus stared down at Astera. It was not a face of blame, it was not anger, it wasn’t even pity. It was filled with pain and sadness. Still, Rhosus breathed in and said, “No.”

Astera rose to his hooves. Rhosus sat up from the bed. The King put a claw around Astera’s neck, “... You always were a good friend to Norah. There is one last service you will need to do here before you return home.”

Astera nodded, “I… I never thought I would be leaving Griffonia like this… I don’t know how I will get all of my staff packed.”

Rhosus walked to the door, “I will send for some of the castle’s staff to help pack your things.”

Astera, Hywel, and Rhosus walked into the Muhtesem’s court. A grandfather clock had been brought into the court. The entire royal family and the entire Pride had already been waiting, watching the hands of that old clock. Rhosus took one last look at Hywel, a part of him hoping for a flash of green. A flash that never came.

Twenty four hours had passed. Rhosus took out the knife. He didn’t say the words, he just cut his claw, and put the bloody print against a page. Hywel took the page and burnt it with green flame off to Equestria.

They now were at war.

Author's Note

Historical Notes:

A Gambeson was a padded piece of cloth/linen armor of the middle ages. It was worn both in conjunction with and independent of chain or plate armor. It didn't provide as much protection as metal armor, but it provided decent protection from hammer blows or stab attempts (even if the blade did puncture the gambeson, the wound would be far shallower), it was lighter and far cheaper than chain mail or plate armor.

An Arquebus was an early single shot firearm that predated the flintlock musket, but operated in a very similar manner.

Dry firing a bow (I.E. pulling back and releasing a bow string without a notched arrow in place) wears out the bow and is the common pet peeve of archers the world over.

Up until the first World War, being at war with someone did not actually imply hating the people or even the leaders of the nation you were attacking. In Europe, monarchs at war were often very closely related (often far too closely related for a healthy gene pool, particularly in the case of the Hasburgs), fighting when all diplomatic channels had failed... or they both sides had a claim to the same throne and wanted it regardless of how many farmers die in the bloodbath.

5. Faith, Friendship, and Final Formations

9:14 AM, Canterlot, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

For the first time in nine hundred years, Celestia marched through her castle at the head of a regiment. Most of her subjects would be filled with hope, seeing Celestia’s regal and confident stance. Her castle staff were silently terrified at the slight sluggishness in her pace and the thin lines under her eyes.

The new Captain of the Royal Guard, Radiant Blade, didn’t have either emotion as he led his troops as he in turn was led by Princess Celestia. He was stern pegasus, his grey coat and white mane betraying no emotion. Radiant had served Celestia loyally for decades, following her commands without question or clarification. Yet, he had been passed for the position of Captain of the Royal Guard for time and time again. Shining Armor had been only a third of Radiant’s age. When Shining became Prince Consort of the Crystal Empire, Radiant was the only pony with anything close to the qualifications needed for the job. Radiant Blade still made the silent thanks for the sudden reappearance of the Crystal Empire.

The regiment was nearing the armory. The guard’s spears, their heavier battle armor, hoof blades, all contained within. It was rare for the guard to ever actually be mobilized and fully armed, the only times it had been called for in Radiant’s memory had been during Discord’s brief reign of chaos and the protection of the royal wedding.

Celestia came to the armory door, and took an abrupt left down a flight of stairs. Without breaking stride for a second, Radiant followed the Princess as if he knew this plan all along. His ears picked up the slight interruption in the rest of the guard’s steady march.

The Princess remained silent as she led the guards deeper under the castle, unlocking barriers, both physical and arcane, as she went. Only the Elements of Harmony themselves were as well guarded. Radiant smiled to himself, "So we are going to the real armory..."

Celestia came to the final step, placing her horn into a door. The faint tickle of the heavy opening charm spread throughout the room. The door opened to reveal the castle’s real armory.

The slight burnt stench put no damper on Radiant’s proud mood. Lining the walls was the deadlier evolution of the spear, the blasting pike. On the head of the blasting pike was a short griffon invented flintlock barrel, triggered by a small button protrusion half way down the shaft. The spears blade was offset, slightly less ideal for thrusting but the single ranged shot and all the fear it placed into enemies hearts more than made up for difference.

In theory anyway, they had yet to be deployed in against anything besides a few rampaging monsters. Celestia only permitted the guards to practice once annually with the blasting pikes.

In the center of the room was a few cannons, more copies from old griffon designs, and Equestria’s replacement for gunpowder, an enchanted combusting sand called fireseed. Radiant smiled as he looked up to his Princess. However, Celestia looked around the room, at the weapons of war, with resignation and disdain. Her ears twitched, as if hearing loud sounds that nopony else could hear.

Without any warmth, Celestia gave her order, “I want everything in here loaded onto a train for Fairbrittle immediately. Every single grain of fireseed must be inventoried and every single of these implements of war will be accounted for. Captain, you will accept all blame if any of it is lost or anyone of my little ponies is hurt by these... destructive devices. If any of your actions wake Luna, she will have full authority on your punishment.”

A tired Celestia left the armory leaving a petrified Captain pale in the face.

10:00 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

The air was crisp, the sun shining on the windows of the holy Kilise, the ground vibrating from the mass of bodies. Tens of thousands of soldiers stood in one massive, twisting line of feathers and fur. Almost every member was working themselves into a frenzy, itching to fly off to glory and honor.

Wallace felt cramped, contained in a wall of griffons, compressed to the point where he could barely breath, “This can’t be war… Please, Sky, I know you hate me, but please, I haven’t said goodbye to Ayla, she doesn’t know...”

High above the crowd, a shrill noise silenced the crowd. A orchestra of griffons played a rhythmic tune on Prench Cello’s and the traditional Griffonian Morin Khuur. In a single voice, the griffon chorus matched the tune, singing a deep tone straight from their throats.

“Blessed from the eternal Sky, born to the steppe.

With a name that echoes the world, uniting the blue skied griffons.

“The courageous Sema. The holy lord Sema...

Heart pure as air, even in the burning wounds from swords.

Above earth, as powerful as mountain’s crags.

The courageous Sema. The holy lord Sema.

Blessed from the sky above, saved half of the world.

Embedded her spirit, in the majestic mighty world.

The courageous Sema. The holy lord Sema.”

As the music died, the ancient griffon Maria, the Mother of the Kilise, the Ecumenical Matriarch of the Semith faith, and the First Among Equals, stood at the precipice of the Cathedral’s tallest tower. She spoke into the enchanted speaking trumpet.

“Children of the Sky, the highest of crimes has been committed against our very faith itself, and thus against the Sky itself. A few days ago, Norah of House Ironclaw, who was meant to be our future queen, went off to Equestria. As her holy ancestor, King Rufield had granted mercy to the Prophet, Norah went with the sash of peace to end Equestria’s naked aggression into our lands. For that mercy, they butchered her.”

Gasps of shock passed among the crowd, Wallace stood staring up in horror.

“The cut-throat didn’t even provide the kindness of a clean death, but mutilated her. No chance to react or defend herself, Norah and her husband died in an explosion of metal, not even leaving her wings untouched.”

The shock was replaced with jeers of outrage. Wallace got rallied up, balling his claws up into fists.

“With my ancient eyes, I see others among our griffon faithful.”

Wallace found the sudden unwanted attention of every adjacent griffon directed at him.

“The ponies of the Sky, and their mixed offspring are among you. It is so easy to direct hatred towards them, it is so easy to believe that they deserve this war’s retribution just as any pony of Equestria.”

The griffons started to edge closer, anger burning in their eyes.

“You will resist such impulses.”

The crowd turned back to Maria, allowing Wallace to release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“Even though they share the blood of our enemies, they have come before me to fight for our land, to protect our people, andserve our Sky. They come to us to bleed and die just as any good griffon will bleed and die. For this war, they are your brothers and sisters. The Sky’s will is clear. Their chains will be broken, and they will soar as griffons to the Sky.”

The crowd was mute at those words. Wallace felt in his chest something he hadn’t felt until he first saw Ayla’s smile, hope.

“Our enemy is there!” Maria pointed to the west. “Chained to the fate of the Arcane. They have forced our claws, you must give them the retribution they deserve!”

The crowd gave another round of roars. Maria waited for the screams to die down.

“There is another enemy you will have to face, one who has defined our days and ruled over our nights. Your greatest foe is there!”

Maria pointed east. Wallace traced her outstretched claw and looked towards the sun.

“The Shepherd of the sun has power from the Arcane and Harmony unmatched by almost any of this world,” Maria continued, “With the return of the shepherd of the moon, your task seems impossible.”

Wallace chest fell, doubt crushing the little hope he had.

“However, there is a greater power here, one greater than the force keeping the heaven’s bodies in motion. Greater than the powers of the Arcane’s shepherds,” She balled a claw into a fist and lifted it into the air, “Your will. If any of you falter, you will fall to ruin, but if you press on, nothing will prevent you from flying on the winds of victory. Are you going to fly or fall?”

The crowd erupted exploded into a single unified chant, “Fly! Fly! FLY!”
Maria stretched out her old wings, “Then you are ready to take the Plunge!”

The great doors of the Kilise spread open, the line conveyed through the holy halls. The only thing keeping the line in order were the silent and armored members of the Order of Penance lining the halls. As Wallace moved through the halls and ascended the highest tower, his eyes were drawn to the paintings of Griffonia’s heroes that had been moved in place for this event.

Atil Huntia, who had led the Griffonians out of the steppes. Vangar Ian, savior of the Crystal Empire. Ark of Clan Joan, who had kept the North together in the decades long War of the Thistles. Centuries of heroes, depicted with large puffed out chests and impossibly large wings, staring out with heroically determined expressions. They were set to face the same direction so it appeared that they were all looking forward towards the front of the line, all encouraging the griffons to move onward.

Onward towards the Plunge.

Finally, Wallace was at the end of the tower’s long stairwell of the Sky’s Loft. A great stained glass window hung above the doorway, depicting the Mercy. King Henry founder of clan Lionheart stood above Prophet Sema on the day of her execution, a sword in claw. Yet, the sword was at the King’s side, as he held out his unarmored claw to the Prophet, witnessed by sixty four stars in the sky.

Through the doorway, Wallace could see Mother Maria placing her claws on the sides of a soldier’s head. She retracted, the soldier spread her wings and flew. Soldier after soldier went through the same motions until there was no line in front of him and the Sky’s blessing.

Mother Maria looked upon Wallace. He could see every wrinkle under her feathers, see the age and wisdom, and see the slight change in her expression.

Maria did not put her claws on to his head, did not say the blessing, or give any word of encouragement. With less of the warmth and kindness Wallace had heard from afar, Maria stated, “Redemption will only be earned, not freely given. If you want to rise above your birth, your first step is to make the choice. To fly, or take the Plunge.”

Wallace stood on the edge. Reflexively, he looked down. Over the edge, several hundred feet before lay a spiked roof, the ultimate fate of any who deny the call of war and just accept the Plunge.

A small part of Wallace’s mind whispered that Maria’s words were a lie, that the only way to stop hurting his mother, his wife, and everyone else just by existing, would be to fall. Wallace shook his head. Hope pushed against the doubt as he extended his wings, and flew after the rest of the flock.

As the crowds cheered outside, one more soldier within the castle rushed to get ready. A spear was chucked onto a bed. It was followed by a breastplate, helmet, gambeson, chainmail, handgun, hand axe, gunpowder flask, and greaves. A knife hidden between the bedsheets. Finally, two claws hovered over the chest. One held a photo, the second a key. The key was inserted and the chest was openned. The free black claw pulled out old pillows and fabrics from the chest. The claw gripped the sides of the chest and pulled up the false bottom, revealing a small handaxe.

Cassandra lifted her hidden axe to her face, and threw it onto the bed with the rest of her weapons and armor. She moved to the bed, but looked down at the photograph of Norah. She sat on the bed and looked at the picture, “Hey, I am in a hurry, I do not have time...”

The picture offered no response.

“Yeah, I know haste makes waste, but I am in a really…” Cassandra breathed in, “Yeah, whatever argument you would come here would be right… No point in just arguing with myself…”

She almost neatly folded up the pillows and cloth, and put them back in the chest in an arrangement that vaguely resembled the condition they originally were in.

Cassandra put her arms through her gambeson, tightened the lace on her chest, and tied it off with a knot. The mail followed after, falling to her ties. A belt was pulled around her waist to keep it the mail in place. The metal greaves were latched around her ankles. She pulled the gauntlets onto her wrists. She lifted up the breastplate

“Uhh… I hate this… who in the ass thought this was a good design?” Cassandra opened the breast plate up and put an arm through the opposing hole. She closed the armor around her. Cassandra’s arms wretched around in different positions trying to grab hold of both laces just to tie the armor shut.

With a great crack, the door exploded open.

“Cassandra!”

Rhosus stood in the door frame. Cassandra didn’t see the griffon who had raised her, always wearing a cloak of stability and pride, or the shade of anger used to quiet his unruly subjects. His beak was bending in a scowl, his postures high and aggressive, but the eyes betrayed him. Below them were the lines of the crescent moon, around them was disturbed by some recent flow of tears, and within them was nothing but emptiness.

Cassandra breathed, steeling herself in her own cloaks.

“I’m sorry about this father,” she thought with regret. Cassandra turned back to her work, “Oh, hey Rhosus”

“There is no time for your antics,” Rhosus just stated as he walked over, “You are staying here.”

“I am a soldier of the Youth Brigade, so I am going.” Cassandra continued to move her arm around, trying to stretch her claw around the armor.

Rhosus grabbed the front of Cassandra’s armor and forced her to make eye contact, “As the second in line to the throne, you have a duty to this nation. I will pull you from the Brigade to protect you from yourself.”

“I am the spare to the throne,” Cassandra shrugged, “There is another spare after me. Doesn’t really matter what happens to my ass.”

“Drop your fucking cocky attitude, I…”Rhosus’ scowl morphed into desperation, “I can’t stand it when you talk about yourself like that…”

The claw released, “Please… I already lost one daughter.”

Cassandra stared at the new tears that welled up in the King’s eyes.

“I know you are not my child by blood, but you are my daughter all the same. I cannot just let you fly to your death,” Rhosus said nearly at a whisper.

“I lost my sister.”

“Cassandra…”

“Nora died trying to solve this bullshit,” Cassandra looked back up to Rhosus’ eye, “I need to help, I need to see this fixed. I am going.”

Rhosus sighed, “I know you want to help, but war is not sparing-”

“Wrong move I am dead, right move and I still can die,” Cassandra repeated, “No servants, no hotbeds, shit food, I know. This is my choice.”

King Rhosus sat on the bed next to his adoptive daughter. Without a word, he grabbed her breast plate’s laces and tied them together. Cassandra adjusted her armor and threw her arms around Rhosus’ neck. The King did not return the gesture. He did not move as Cassandra threw her weapons into a sack, and walk out the door.

Once again, Rhosus found himself alone sitting on his daughter’s bed.

Meanwhile at the docks...

Astera watched as the diplomatic ship came into port. The ganissaries surrounding him and his staff put their left claws to their chests. When they had walked up to the embassy, he feared they would just be a military escort, but they had actually helped carry the baggage from the embassy to the docks.

Astera looked around one last time, “He didn’t even come to say goodbye… Although with all I let happen, he probably couldn’t get away.”

The bridge was lowered to the dock. Six battered and bandaged ganissaries processed down the bridge carrying a coffin on top of their wing. A seventh female ganissary with a chipped beak walked behind them. She shot Astera and his staff a dirty look, not breaking eye contact until all of Equestria’s embassy staff was on the ship

Astera watched the retreating dock as port moved away, he wondered what he did wrong.

10:03 AM, Equestria , 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

Word of the declaration was spread like a hawk with a tail wind through Equestria. Teams of pegasuses messengers were tasked with difficult journeys, to spread the news to Baltimore, Dodge City, Vanhoover, and the other corners of Equestria. However, all the fliers were given a peculiar instruction, avoid Ponyville at all costs, even if flying directly above the town would be infinitely faster. Almost every messenger questioned these orders, although most had the tack to only do so within their own heads. The white pegasus Cloud Skipper didn’t. Those were his orders. Orders were to be followed.

With wings beating hard against the thin air, he crested the Foal Mountains. Below him in the valley was the thickest forest outside of the Everfree, Hollow’s Peaks. Within the forest was a town, Hollow Shades. With any other forest, he would just fly over the trees and land in the town’s clearing.

However, as Cloud Skipper neared the treeline, he took a sharp turn west around the edge of the forest. After an additional forty minutes of flying, he found the train tracks. He stopped at the gated guard’s post and showed the letter seal.

There was one universal rule about Hollow Shades. Nothing comes in or out except over on or directly over the train tracks.

The path crisscrossed around trees, twisting and bending as the daylight sky turned to dusk under the artificially thick foliage. Cloud Skipper could have easily shaved minutes from his flight if he flew in a straighter path, but he kept with the whindy course. For him, procedures were unquestionable.

The treeline opened up to reveal the town. It was nearly pitch black under the dense canopy, Cloud Skipper’s eyes could only vaguely make out the shapes of houses built on or into the trees. No beam of sunlight penetrated into these woods.

In any other part of Equestria, this would’ve been the busiest time of day. However, noon was the time when Hollow Shades slept. Cloud Skipper walked with light footfalls to not disturb the resident’s rest. He made his way to the one lit building, the Office of Centurion.

Inside the building looked near deserted. A single occupant, a dark grey pony with a blue mane with of cutie mark of the moon and an eye, sat at the desk filling out some paperwork, trying to ignore the slightly sour taste of the quill in her mouth. Her sensitives ears twitched as the door was opened, “Cloud Skipper? What are you… does this mean that the Griffon...”

“Hello Night Watch,” Cloud Skipper stated with his normal stoic expression. He reached into his saddlebag with his wing and pulled out the scroll.

Night Watch unfurled the note with her leathered wings. Conflict crossed the night guard’s face, only to settle on a small smile that revealed her fangs. She opened up her desk, pulling out a dusty whistle. Night wiped it against her fur before holding in her mouth.

Cloud stepped out of the way as Night walked outside. With large breath in, Night blew into the metal. Cloud heard no noise, but his ears rang from the inaudible noise. The sleeping town shifted into life. Night and Cloud watched as the bat ponies gathered for war.

11:23 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

In the royal Griffonian office, Rhosus mechanically moved through paperwork and preparations. Emergency powers that had to be enacted, assurances to North Griffonian’s neighbors that this invasion was only directed to Equestria, approve a ration board to save food and limit consumption by the public if needed, orders to build up more lines heading west into Equestria, requests for factories to switch production to arrows, musket barrels, gunpowder, armor, spearheads, and a thousand other requirements. He even had to sign the paperwork so all the entertainers and “escorts” following the army could do their business and maintain moral without conflicts. The stress was welcomed in Rhosus’ heart. The stress was a distraction to all he had lost and all he was about to lose.

A knock came from the door.

King Rhosus looked at the door, deeply considering staying silent. The only one he knew brave enough to stand by the door and open it was another reminder of his loss, another vector for the pain to stab into his soul.

“Enter.”

The court wizard Hywel opened the door with his claws and walked through the entrance on his cloven hooves. Commander Bey followed in, flanked by two Ganissaries.

The woman Rhosus had trusted to protect Norah did not shield the pain or guilt written on her face.

“I have come to complete my final duty for the crown,” Commander Bey’s voice sounded as cracked and tired as his own, “I ask to speak freely of my experiences and... failure.”

Rhosus nodded, not trusting his own voice to remain level.

“With No… with the heir to the throne and her royal consort under my protection, I failed. I grew lax, allowed them to eat in a Prench restaurant without searching every inch of the building or every patron in the establishment. I then did not stop a food ceremony that involved a lot of movement that those under my command could not reasonably keep track of. This is what allowed a bomb to slip past our lines and slay the royal couple. I brought her to a hospital as several of my commanders chased after the culprit, but... it was too late. I gave her the Last Winds. Equestria’s guards decided to betray our nation by arresting the Ganissaries. I sent Owen off to bring ...her body home. I stayed to give him more time. Did Owen make it?”

Rhosus nodded.

Some amount of relief crossed Bey’s face, “I gave him the time, but was eventually subdued, locked away in cell with the rest of the Ganisassies. Yesterday, we were released. They told we were allowed to return, with Richard’s... body. The mayor personally gave a emotionless apology and gave me this.”

Bey held out a blank envelope. Hywel took it first, checking for enchantments or conventional poisons, before passing it along to Rhosus.

The envelope was cut open by the King’s claw. Inside was a letter, marked by Celestia’s solar mark.

Rhosus, I have failed you. Norah was under my wings, and I failed. In my negligence I have let Equestria break too many of my oaths. You have no reasons to trust another word I say, but I am sorry. I will not let any of this happen again.

-Celestia

Commander Bey remained silent, waiting for Rhosus to return his attention back to her. When he looked up, she continued, “If a competent commander had taken my place... Norah would still be alive. This is not the fault of any of my troops, this is entirely my failure. All I ask that I shall be the only one punished for this travesty.”

Rhosus nodded.

Bey took one long look at her wings, closed her eyes, and accepted her fate. “I renounce my command.” She placed her sword on the desk. “My position in your guard.” She placed her helmet next to it. “I accept I have no honor, that I am no longer part of Clan Cresentblade, that I have committed an inexcusable crime against the Sky itself. I simply ask that I be allowed to receive repentance by joining Order of Penance.”

Rhosus considered for a moment, trying to find some words, but the anger was bubbling, so he just nodded.

The two Ganissaries led Bey out of the room, leading the former commander to the Kalise.

Hywel moved to follow out the door.

“Wait…” Rhosus said in a strained voice, “Hywel… I need your help.”

Hywel shut the door, tapping it with his staff. The door glowed blue, reinstating the seal of silence, “With?”

Rhosus leaned back, “Cassandra.”

“Off to war.” Hywel stated more than asked.

“I… Just let her go.” Rhosus put his face in his claws. “I lost Norah, but I let Cassandra go.”

“Free spirit cannot be contained,” Hywel said, “Would find a way to go unless chained in the deepest dungeon without key.”

“You know her best. What is wrong with her? What is wrong with me?” Rhosus dragged his claws through his feathers, “How can I rule this nation when I can’t even protect my family?”

Hywel leaned against his staff, “Cassandra opposite of Norah, of blade opposed to global word, but always cared. Always had a heavy heart for burden Norah carried as first in line for crown. Like Rhosus, Cassandra wants justice, knows skill with blade helps more than being cooped up here.”

“You don’t think you can talk sense into her, do you?” Rhosus asked.

Hywel put a claw to his heart, “Will follow King to death if order, will lay down life for Cassandra.” He removed the claw and shook his head. “Will not pursue impossible tasks."

Hywel tapped his beak, "May not be impossible for Darius.”

Rhosus let another sigh, “Darius is going as well.”

Hywel’s eyebrow arched upwards, “Isn’t a fighter, is more of a-”

“I know what Darius is,” Rhosus snapped, “...Sorry. I... His… disposition wasn’t a problem before. Now… now that he’s heir…”

“Irrelevant question for the war. Will be resolved on future date,” Hywel interrupted. Rhosus closed his beak, giving his friend a nod.

“Relevant question, why will Darius go and fight?”

Rhosus looked down at his desk, “Because I asked him to... I need Darius if we are going to win this war,” Rhosus stated sadly, “I have a plan to remove Celestia from the fight, but I need one of my mother's blood and my father's blood to pull it off.”

“Which life risked?” Hywel inquired.

Rhosus looked his court wizard directly in the eye. “My own…”

A swift nod came from Hywel, “And Elements of Harmony?”

The King’s tired eyes looked down upon the note containing Celestia’s calligraphy, “What about them?”

Hywel’s eyes narrowed. “Shepherd of Night cleansed by Elements, Shepherd of Chaos encased in stone by Elements. Potential damage army, crippling. Defenses and counters against such power, hypothetical.”

Rhosus stayed silent.

“Previous Court Wizard asked King Gryphus same question. Previous Court Wizard lost head.” Hywel stated, “Rhosus, do not fall to Gryphus’ delusions. Sword, steel, powder powerless before Harmony.”

Rhosus held Celestia’s note, deep in thought. He looked up to Hywel and down at the page, considering.

“...I wish I could tell you… The crown comes with many burdens. There are some I wish I was allowed to share, but the heaviest burden of all is what I have to silently carry alone.” Rhosus sunk into his chair. “These… burdens are not unique to this crown, Celestia has her own burdens, and ancient oaths. She will not use the elements.”

Hywel eyebrow shot into the air.

Rhosus clarified, “Celestia will not deploy the Elements, as long as we make sure the consequences of this war do not outweigh the consequences of breaking those oaths.”

Rhosus looked up to Hywel. The Court Wizard was consumed by thought, but betrayed none of them. Hywel bowed and left the room, leaving Rhosus to his work.

3:00 PM, Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

“Penal labor?”

Grand Prix looked down at the angered reactions of the pegasuses and earth ponies held in the pit. He had reinforced his will with all the liquid courage he could get his hooves on, so none of the mob’s cries phased. He replied in his magically amplified voice, “If you all accept, none of you will have to face no other retribution for the crimes of trespassing on noble ground. It will bypass the lengthy time it would take to try and sentence each and every one of you criminals. This is sadly the only fair solution. Don’t worry, I will see to it that you are all fed and housed as befit your status...”

Grand’s liquid courage drained as the hungry, tired, and desperate ponies he had left in the pit started to grab rocks, and bite off the ropes containing the pegasus’ wings, “STOP! Even ponies like you know how to act civilized! Halt this mad-”

Below him was a loud audible thump that broke Grand’s line of thought. Then another. His gaze shifted down to see Maud jumping from rock to rock to get out of the pit.

“Guards! Stop her! Stop…” She made one last giant leap and landed right in Grand’s face. In that instance he saw how his combat spell had melted the skin on the back of her neck, and the slight crookedness of her nose where her head smashed into the wall. Above all else, Grand saw the slight but utterly terrifying glint of anger on otherwise neutral face. He let out a high pitched squeal and started to scurry backwards in panic, “Stay back, stay back!”

Magic reflexively seeped into his horn, ready to cast anything to keep her away. Maud flicked a pebble with her hoof, sending the projectile with bullet like speed into Grand’s horn. The arcane matrix of the horn was interrupted, flying into the obstruction. The magic detonated.

All Grand saw was white. All he felt was pain. All he heard was a high pitched ring.

Eventually, Grand’s vision cleared. The pain became almost tolerable. His hearing returned. He could just make out the blackened scorch mark on the tip of his horn. He felt a hoof on his back. He heard Maud’s words, “You are going to let out everypony out of that pit, you are going to pay and house us like our original contracts with United EG, you are going to give us quadruple pay for each day we spent down there, you are going to send my salary to the Pie Rock Farm, and you will never bother me while I am digging rocks again.”

Grand spat, “I… I am not just going to let myself be ordered around by a pony from the mud like you. Guards! Take her down!”

Grand looked around, only to see that his family’s levy had seemingly deserted the area. He tried to lift himself up, but the hoof was holding him down with the pressure of the mountain. Once again magic tried to flowed to his horn to take Maud down, but only received a feedback of more pain. Maud other forehoof started to feel along Grand’s front left leg. She found bruises on the leg, gripped the leg in her fetlock and twisted Grand’s limb into a very painful position till something cracked.

“You are going to let out everypony out of that pit, you are going to pay and house us like our original contracts with United EG, you are going to give us quadruple pay for each day we spent down there, you are going to send my salary to the Pie Rock Farm, and you will never bother me while I am digging rocks again.”

The proud and noble Grand began to outright cry, “Please… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this. I don’t have a choice. She made me do it. Just under-AHHHH!”

“Alright! I yield!” Grand yelled out. “You win! You will have what you want. Just… please… stop...”

All the earth shattering pressure Maud was putting Grand Prix under vanished. The crowd of ponies in the pit had pulled themselves out and surrounded Maud and Grand.

Maud looked around the crowd, “We have come to an arrangement. Everypony is going to be given the same rock you were contracted to and we are going to get a big bonus for our unfortunate time inside that pit.”

Maud turned to Grand. “Immediately.”

Grand was ushered into town by the mob.

4:30 AM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

King Rhosus walked out of the credit negotiations. It had been easier than expected. The banking families had agreed to very low interest rate loans, industries were happy to switch to military production. United Equestria-Griffonia in particularly had agreed to free use of their trains and tracks, under a contract stipulating all the Fairbrittle land and assets seized by House Prix or Equestria would be returned to the company.

The King should have been relieved that something went right today. He should have also dreaded the next meeting, the distribution of North Griffonia’s forces.

The four generals from the corners of the kingdom had come to fight over who gets which command. The young white falcon, Heyton of Clan Forgebronze, the red eagle, Easton of Clan Spearprime, the old grey hawk, Tran of Clan Goldenbark, and the light brown owl, Isabelle of Clan Fortstand. As expected, they were glaring daggers at each other. A fifth griffon sat in silent prayer, Sister Talsa, the Maria’s Legate to lead the faith militant orders

Rhosus set himself upon his chair. As per tradition, the general with greatest experience spoke first.

Tran craned his ancient neck, “My liege, we are all deeply saddened by the passing of your daughter. No one more than I wish to see the ponies pay for this treason than in blood. I served your late father and your late brother before my counterparts were even in a litter. I have defended the gateways to the steps, holding back those raiders and tribes for decades. I propose that you put the first through eighteenth army corps under my command.”

Easton stood from his seat, “The first through eighteenth army corps? That is half of the armed forces and all four of a regular professional corps. Do you honestly believe you are going to be able to command 180,000 griffons?”

Easton nearly whined, “Why does Tran get all of the professionals while we will try command the unruly reserves?”

“Because most of those professionals have been under my command for the last eighteen years,” Tran shouted back, “I been at the edge of civilization, I have been holding back the tribes who refused to give up their life as savages. This is not pride, that is a cold hard fact.”

Heyton raised her claw, “Tran, it is also a fact that you have spent the last 18 years fighting technologically stagnant steppe tribal raiders from the lofty position of four master crafted fortresses. It is also fact that not even you have defend Griffonia from a modern professional army in some time. Also, unless I am mistaken, it’s also a fact that you even refuse to allow any soldier wielding an arquebus or using a cannon to either live or sleep in the border fortresses?”

“I refuse to allow anyone who hasn’t mastered a real weapon into my fort. I would have to also store their gunpowder within the defenses of our foremothers and forefathers.” Tran spat out. “I will not make our history and our first line of defense a bomb. Heyton, unlike you I do not strap my soldiers to death traps and just shrug as they fall down burning.”

“The Flying Defender was an accident.” Heyton yelled back. “One of the aircrew allowed an open flame far too close too the balloon, something I had instructed them never to do.”

Tran crossed his claws. “And the Our Mother of Faith? The Grand Forgemaster? Where they all just accidents? Your beloved airships are nothing but tinder boxes.”

“We have resolved that issue,” Heyton replied, “The engineers have found that while lightest essence of the Sky easily becomes flame, the second lightest essence will not burn even when exposed to a furnace.”

Easton openly rolled his eyes, “And quadrupled the cost. Pleasure craft have no place in war. Some advances are useful, but we can’t just throw out all of the past. Unlike one of us.” Easton looked at Isabelle, “I am actually concerned with the tactics of battle, rather than just making sure all the trains are running. For these reasons, I should be given control of the majority of the forces, for only I hold the middle ground between innovation and tradition, genius and honor.”

Heyton, Isabelle, and Tran gave Easton murderous looks.

“Enough.”

The generals turned back to their King. Rhosus stood tall, hunched over as a parent stand above their bickering children. He sat back down. “Tran, with your greater experience, I grant you direct leadership of the First Professional corp, and the Fifth through Sixteenth reservist Corps. Easton will have the Second Professional, the Seventeenth through twenty fourth reservist. Isabelle will have the Third Professional, and Twenty Fifth through the Thirty Secondth reserves. Finally Heyton will command the Fourth Professional, our three airship corps, and our surface fleet corp. There will be no further discussion on this matter.”

Easton closed his beak.

“Tran, you will have command of the greatest number of forces.” Rhosus stated. Tran smiled proudly at the affirmation, “However, you will not have the highest command if I am absent. Isabelle will have the highest command in my absence.”

Tran’s smile evaporated.

“Thank you Rhosus,” Isabelle bowed.

Rhosus looked to Sister Talsa, “Our Sister, would you have any objections to following Isabelle’s commands?”

Talsa turned to Isabelle, regarding the general, “... In matters of war, I have no objections.”

“Then we shall discuss our plan of invasion.” Rhosus somewhat relaxed.

Tran unfurled a scroll across the table. “Under your late brother, my liege, we came up with a simple plan of attack. We would move our troops along the northern edge of the Crystal Mountains, then down the Equine valley straight to Canterlot.”

“And what about this?” Easton put his claw onto the map at the northern mouth of the valley, the spot where the Crystal Empire had reappeared.

“The crystal ponies are a thousand years out of time.” Tran said, “They were always a weak pacifists, always reliant on griffons to protect the vestige of their once great Empire. They will put up no defense”

“What of the shepherd of love?” Talsa asked, “From what I understand, Princess Cadance conjured an arcane shield that covered the entire city against a tyrant of darkness. Prince Shining Armor’s city protecting abilities as I understand them are equally impressive.”

Tran paused at the question, “If they have even an ounce of honor-”

“As stated, they don’t,” Talsa interrupted, “As you said, it within the Crystal Ponies' nature to be weak and cowardly. Why would weak cowards accept an open field battle when they can hide under an arcane bubble?”

Tran grit his beak.

“We could blast our way through!” Heyton stated with triumph, “Cadance’s shield eventually failed after a long enough barrage by that shadow monster, we could do the same.”

“Heyton, you are the one with a mastery in mathematics,” Isabelle said with a tint of annoyance, “Let’s say we gathered every single of our six thousand cannons, give or take two hundred, firing an average ball with an average around... eleven pounds. If we aimed it all at the city, how long would it take to break the shield? How many tons of shot and powder will we use up?”

Heyton’s beak worked itself in circle, “Well… I don’t know how much power Sombra’s magic has. Magical strength can never be directly converted into kinetic force. You might as well ask me to square a circle…”

“So potentially we could be stuck laying siege to the Empire for weeks on end, giving Equestria more and more time to mobilize and prepare its forces to defend the Equine valley.” Isabelle stated, “You know how many troops we would lose to attrition?”

She reached down and pulled out several sets of papers labelled Weather Report, “Winter is coming. Towns in the north of the Kingdom are already dealing with premature frost and weather teams had to defend against blizzards south. Neither Griffon or Pony has been controlling the weather North of the Crystal Mountains since the Crystal Empire disappeared, allowing snow and blizzards to rage three seasons of the year. So much of the Crystal Empire’s magic has been dedicated to returning the land to a livable state, but so much more work needs to be done.”

The report was set to the side. “We would have to supply this sieging army without tracks, rivers or even paved roads. Celestia could wait for us to move on the Crystal Empire, and position Equestria’s forces here,” Isabelle placed her claw west of Fairbrittle. “Our army would be isolated, separated from any potential supply, in an area where there is no game or plant we could forage. Our soldiers would starve to death.”

“Let me remind you...” Tran began.

“Let me remind all of you,” Rhosus interjected, “That our quarrel is with Equestria and Equestria alone. I will not condone an invasion of the Crystal Empire unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Of course my liege,” Tran bowed his head, “The Crystal Ponies have done no harm to us since they have returned. They are too weak to present an honorable opponent, and in any other circumstances I would advise we just leave them alone. However, it is unfortunately necessary, even if there are... risks.”

“No, it isn’t,” Isabelle said as she unconsciously puffed out her feathers to look larger, “We have other options…”

“No, we do not have the luxury of other options,” Tran responded in kind, “If we go after Canterlot by going further south, we have to brave two other mountain ranges, the horrors of Hollow Shade or the Everfree Forest. We would leave Equestria’s coastal cities at our flanks. You believe supply would be any easier when our lines are entirely surrounded by enemies?”

“We could spend our efforts in building more airships and flying directly to Canterlot.” Heyton offered.

“Those contraptions would be taken out of the Sky by any Pegasus force,” Tran spat back.

“How long would we spent building such an air fleet?” Isabelle asked in frustration, “It could take years to conjure a force that large, all the while Equestria would be preparing its own invasion!”

The disagreement devolved into a shouting match between three of the generals. Talsa started to pray wisdom, Rhosus prayed for silence, but Easton regarded the map. As he read the names of the cities, he thought about them. Who lived there, what they produced, what they did for Equestria itself. A new plan came through his head

“Everyone!” Easton shouted out to silence the argument, “You are looking at this wrong! There is more to Equestria than Canterlot.”

“The Ponies music now comes from Las Pegasus,” His talon pointed out to Equestria’s west coast, “Their weather and water comes from there city of clouds.” He indicated to Cloudsdale. “Their factories are along the East coast.” His clawed waved over cities such as Balitmore and Filly Delphia. “In the South… they… have a bunch of apples and…rocks…”

He shook his head, “The point is, Canterlot is no longer the center of Equestria’s economy or culture, it’s mostly just the government. I suggest we do not try the absurd task of going after their capital immediately, and attack here.”

A single claw rested on the closest real city to North Griffonia, Manehatten.

7:12 P.M., Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 43rd day of Fall

The sun made it’s fall with the horizon, casting long shadows over the hastily placed dinner blankets around the train yards of the capital. The steaming locomotives were being fueled and filled up with the last cannons, rations, and airships.

The corps had been split into four sections, set apart for the Last Dinner of Peace. This religious ceremony would above all else determine The Comradeship. Modelled after the six scribes of the Prophet, regardless of one’s duty within the corp, the six soldiers of a Comrade ate together, bunked together, and mourned together, even if they did not fight together.

Wallace moved about the crowd trying to find a space on a blanket.

“Hey, you see that cream yellow horse face half-breed?”

Wallace’s left ear twitched at the whisper. He moved forward, ignoring the pins of pain in his chest.

“Yeah?”

“He got 93 on the archery range.”

“Your preening my wings, how the fuck did the freak do it?”

Wallace ears drooped. The stress induced pain was becoming harder to ignore.

“Maybe it’s one of the arcane ones, a wizard that was never dragged away as a baby to be taught how not to fucking kill themselves with their arcane stuff. Must’ve used magic to cheat.”

Wallace broke out into a brief sprint to just get away from the voices. His eyes drifted about the crowd when he saw it. A group of four hippogriffs and a pegasus pony were sitting on a mat together. Wallace even recognized one of them from the archery trials. She had been doing so well in her trial, she had a tight spread on most of her tasks, but missed her last few targets entirely. His ears raised up and a smile crossed his face as he moved to the group. One hippogriff caught Wallace’s eye and threw a friendly wave.

A Wallace was spotted by a hippogriff he recognized from the musket range. The hippogriff eyes went wide, pulled the other one’s arm in a panic, and started to furiously whisper to the group. The group threw weapons onto the open space and looked away, pretending Wallace didn’t exist.

The smile on Wallace’s face was gone. His ears sulked. The pain in his chest became too much to bare.

Wallace just plopped himself down on an empty blanket, “I’m… I’m such an idiot. She didn’t miss those shots on accident. That final adjustment so far to the right was a deliberate attempt to miss the clay pigeons to torpedo her own score. Her skill was used to just barely pass, so most of the griffons would leave her alone. They all did that. I’m such an idiot…”

In Wallace’s sulk, he didn’t hear the slight clink of metal or the thump as someone sat down on the blanket.

“Sup?”

Wallace jolted in surprise. A teenage griffon with a smirking black beak, white weathers, yellow eyes, a youth brigade buckler, and one of the nicest sets of armor Wallace had ever seen had just willing laid down next to him.

Wallace stared at the girl for several seconds before replying, “...Hello… Have I seen you before?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Probably, but we have never met.” She held out a claw, “I’m Cass.”

Wallace looked upon the willing claw, trying to figure out how this action could screw him over further or how he would mess this up. Gingerly, he grasped it, “Wallace. My name is Wallace... Just Wallace... What is your clan?”

Cass probed into him with her eyes, “Do you really think my clan actually matters?”

“I…” Wallace stuttered, “I always been told-”

“I asked what you think, not what assholes have told you.”

Wallace felt caged, trapped, cornered into revealing another thing that would just get him hated and mocked. However, he just couldn’t think up a lie convincing enough to tell.

Wallace looked at the ground, “Having a clan matters because it means you always had someone related to you that cared enough to look at you. I guess… it doesn’t really matter what it is, as long as you have one.”

Cass tapped a claw against her beak and nodded to herself, “Interesting… So. Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m just a bower,” Wallace, “I’m nothing special…”

“So that amazing bow in your quiver holding isn’t your work?”

“Well… it isn’t all my work,” Wallace tried to explain, “It was my wife’s crafts that made it what it is…”

“You are married, so you have to be special,” Cass said proudly, “If you were just some worthless dick, why would anyone love you?”

“...She…” Wallace almost said deserves better, “Is very understanding.”

A big smile crossed Cass’ beak. She threw an arm around Wallace’s shoulders, “Great news, I like you!”

“...Great?” he replied nervously, noticing the way the surrounding blankets were watching their display.

“How do the words go?” She tapped her claw against her beak, “In honor of the prophet… something about the scribes…”

Once again Wallace looked upon her with shock, “Wait, is she…”

“Yadda fucking yadda, do you want to join my Comradeship?” Cass stated.

“I… I…” Wallace wanted to just accept right there, but his ears picked up the comments of the crowd.

“Wonder how desperate she is to get a group going if he is her first choice.”

“Look, a freakfucker, going to probably make a litter of more abominations…”

Wallace ears flopped, “You shouldn’t offer me that. I don’t want to pull you down...”

“Dragon shit,” Cass stated, “Stop listening to those dumb assholes. I’m not an asshole! Okay, I am an asshole, but I am a different kind of asshole. I’m an honest asshole that will only fuck with people for reasons that matter. Your pony head? Doesn’t matter. Just shake my claw and let’s go.”

Wallace gazed at her claw for a long moment, before grasping it, “T-thank you.”

“Come on,” She stood up and waved him to follow her, “Ignore the other assholes. Those dicks are going to be regretting their words in a few minutes…”

Through the crowd they walked. Every snide remark filled Wallace with greater regret, “She is isn’t looking, I could just... I should just go, I don’t want to... No, I agreed, it wouldn’t be right.”

He was led to another dining matt. A taller grey feathered griffon, who looked like Cass’s brother, was chatting with another female griffon and a pegasus pony. A second pony sat in silence, continually looking miserable. Wallace recognized them as the two ponies he had seen in line a few days before.

“Dar, I found the last victim!” Cass proudly declared.

Wallace eyes went wide, “Victim?”

Cass face briefly showed actual concern, “Oh, sorry. I’m just shitting you.” She pointed at herself, “Asshole, remember?”

“Ignore my sister.” Dar shook his head as he got up. He offered Wallace a warm smile and his claw. “Welcome…”

“Wallace,” he said taking the claw. The clawshake went on for a few seconds longer than it should have. Eventually, Dar let go.

The smiling blue coated and red maned pegasus held out her hoof, “I am Lancet of Clan Deepcrag. I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

Wallace was surprised Lancet was part of clan rather just retaining a pony name. Her face was a simple genuine smile, rather than Cass eternal smirk, and the overly endeared smile of Dar. During the claw/hoof shake, Wallace’s eyes drifted to the third griffon of the group. Rather than the full metal curiasses the others were wearing, the light red griffon only had a worn out gameson and a belt around her thigh. An arquebus and gunpowder flask rested at her feet.

As Wallace caught her eye, the griffon froze up. Her mouth shifted around, eyes betraying a sense of shock and disgust. In a moment, Jaine became aware that everyone was staring at her, and forced her beak into a smile.

“I am Jaine of clan Wrought,” Jaine blurted out. “So… you’re Wallace? Are you one of the ones with a cl… ahem, what is your clan name?”

Jaine received a glare of death from Cass and Dar, “...Oh, I see. Just Wallace. I see. Doesn’t matter at all...”

Dar took a step in front of Wallace, “If you are going to have a problem with him, leave.”

“You are sid-” Jaine shut her beak, cutting off that line of thought, “It’s not going to be a problem at all. I don’t have any problems with ponies! … Or hippogriffs. I was just surprised.”

Dar expression remained stone, but Cassandra started to smirk, “Great, guess that means you two will become the best of friends.”

Jaine’s beak twitched, “Anything is possible.”

“Shear Terrace,” The last pegasus almost barked out without looking up from trying to clean up her heavily tarnished blade. Wallace noted she still covering up her cutie mark. Being this close, he also noticed that her spear had bite marks on it, and the tip of one of her ears was missing.

“Ahem.”

A magically enhanced voice caught their attention. General Isabelle’s stood on a platform as food baskets were passed around, “I have other corps I need to brief, so I shall not waste much of your time. I am General Isabelle of clan Fortstand. I will be the leader of this division. Colonel Harris will be your direct commanding officer, but strictly under my direction. Unlike some other commanders, your clan will mean nothing under my command. I do not care who you’re mommy, daddy, granma, or granpa are, or what dragon your heroic grant aunt Merris allegedly slayed or how much money one of yours ancestor bribed for a noble title. ”

Most laughed, but a sense of dread crossed some of the blankets, particularly ones containing griffons in expensive looking armor. Cass snickered.

“You will receive no benefits for high birth, nor any penalty for ‘low’ under my command.” Isabelle’s eyes shifted to Wallace’s group, “Even if Prince Darius and princess Cassandra were part of this unit, they will get the same food, sleep in the same mud, and dig the same latrine.”

Cass and Dar both gave a quick wave.

Shear Blitz snorted, “Princess Cassandra and Prince Darius down here? That will be the… Wait…” Shear Blitz looked up in shock, “Princess Cassandra and Prince Darius?”

Wallace’s head pivoted to gawk at Darius and Cassandra. Lancet pupils had grown to the size of dinner plates while Jaine’s mouth was outright blabbering.

Cassandra shrugged, “Alright, I am not an entirely honest asshole.

Wallace bowed his head, “I… I’m not… I shouldn’t…”

A black claw gripped his muzzle kept his mouth shut.

Darius put a talon to his own beak, “The general is giving a speech. It’s rude not to listen.”

Wallace vaguely recognized that Isabelle was still talking, “...above all else, merit will be the deciding factor in leave, raises, and all other benefits. Otherwise, you are all equal in my eyes. Yes, even if you one or more of your parents was a pony. You are not griffons, ponies, or hippogriffs, you are all soldiers, and anyone who does not understand that simple fact will find themselves thigh deep digging out the latrine in which you belong. If and only if you act as the soldiers I know you all can be, will we win this war. Before I go out and lay this speech upon the next division, I will need to witness the first action you will all do as equals. drinking your contraceptives.”

On top of the food baskets containing a liquid, orange for males, blue for females. The griffons grasped it in their claws, the few ponies held it between their hooves.

Isabelle took out a vial of her own, “I know this goes down a throat as well as gunpowder goes into a burning building, but taking this every 30 days is preferable to any of you creating a litter in a war zone. I am taking this for the third time tonight, but as I said, in my eyes we are all soldiers of the crown. We live together, we fight together, we die together, and we drink together.” Isabelle downed her vial in one gulp.

Wallace pulled the cap from his drink. A smell of moldy dead flesh hit his nose. The vial touched his lips, and reluctantly he opened them. The liquid oozed onto his tongue, with a taste like that of an infested swamp. Both of Wallace’s claws clamped his mouth shut so he wouldn’t spit the alchemist’s brew out.

A black claw rested on Wallace’s shoulder. “Swallow,” Darius stated, “It will be over quicker.”

“We’ve been forced to drink this shit since puberty,” said Cassandra, “No one wants unplanned heirs, not that they really need to worry about that from us… It gets tolerable… well they keep telling us we will tolerate it.”

Slowly, the horrid liquid made it’s way down to Wallace’s stomach.

Once all of the troops managed to down the demon water, Isabelle continued, “Eat heavily and eat well. In one hour, you will be boarding this train. Find a set of hammocks and get as much sleep as possible. Tomorrow morning will be the first day that we spill blood.”

She set off to give the same speech to her next army corp.

Wallace looked down at the small feast presented before him, but didn’t feel hungry in the slightest. That was partially because his stomach was throwing a revolt against the birth control, but it was mostly because of the hole just below his stomach, filled with shame.

Wallace got up to his feet, “I… I should go. I’m not...”

“Worthy even to sit upon a blanket touched by the asses of royalty?” Cassandra nearly sang out, “You heard the general, you have been ordered to treat us like any other grunt. So plant your ass back down as an equal, comrade.”

“Don’t bother arguing with her,” Darius said as he held out a piece of bread, “Just do what she says and it will be less painful.”

As the sun touched the horizon, Wallace planted himself back down onto the blanket, accepting the food offered by a prince.

Author's Note

Night Watch

Historical notes:

In times of war, minority ethnicities, social groups, and religions were often granted, or at least promised, greater rights if they went out and fought. In the American Revolution, the British offered freedom to any slave that joined the British army and fought against the rebelling colonists. In WW1, the Russians offered greater citizenship to Jews who took up arms against the Central Powers. In Ancient Rome, the only way for most non-citizens to gain citizenship was to join the Roman Legions.

Religious leaders would often frame wars they support in some religious context, even if the conflict wasn't overtly about religion. In the first Crusade, the Emperor of the Byzantine Empire asked the pope to drum up some reinforcements to stop the expansion of the Seljurk Turks. The Pope turned this simple request for help into a massive call to reclaim the Holy Land. Even up to WW1, Sultan Mehmed V of the Ottoman Empire (who had the title of Caliph, which in theory made him the leader of all Islam) declared that the struggle against the Allies was a Jihad. The Muslim subjects of Britain and France ignored this call for Holy War, as they didn't see how a war of one group of Christians against another group of Christians would be of much concern to Islam.

Penal Labor has been as a means to have a slave labor force without officially having slavery. After the emancipation of slavery in the US, southern states reintroduced slavery through Jim Crow laws. The laws made it nearly impossible for former slaves to get work, made unemployment itself a crime, then arrested the former slaves for the absurd crimes. The black "criminals" would be declared guilty by their white "peers," and assigned Penal Labor as punishment for their "crimes."

6. The Battle of Fairbrittle

4:14 AM Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

Across two nations it was a restless night. Griffons wondering what will become of their suddenly mobilized spouses, ponies who had never known war praying to give Celestia strength, soldiers trying to catch shut eye on bumpy trains. Others couldn’t sleep because of mistrust of their bunk mates, others were filled with child like excitement, others with dread. Even the Princess of the Sun did not sleep. Princess Celestia received wave after wave of letters from Luna, the confused Princess of the Night demanding to know why Celestia hadn’t even woken her up to inform her of the War. Celestia spent the night ignoring the rain of magical letters, afraid to face her sister even in slumber.

Yet, there was one who couldn’t rest for reasons completely apart from the War.

In the one lit room in Fairbrittle, metal clanged against wood. Once, twice, fourteen times.

Grand Prix stood hunched over a desk, feebly counting the gold with his teeth, hoping against sanity that gold would appear if he counted hard enough.

Yet reality did not bend to his will, all he was left with was fourteen bits.

“...This is it?” Grand screamed in his mind, “I brought enough to pay all my damn cowards of a house levy, and all I have is fourteen bucking bits! Those feathered brains and those mudponies… They should be hanged for robbing me blind!”

His stomach gurgled painfully. Grand hadn’t had any booze since the morning before, “I hate this bucking town. I hate the ponies, I hate the air, and I hate that bucking coal… I will need to pay that mob again in ten days, the locals are going to expect the rest of the ‘inconvenienced for being under house arrest’ payments in eight days. Even my useless guards are going to want their money in seven… I need more bits.”
Horror slowly dawned on Grand’s face. Pain welled up in bruises, bruises far older than the ones from the day before, “Prix is going to murder me for this.”
Eyes drifted up to his burnt horn that still refused to cast spells, the shot glass that refused to fill itself, and the tiny puddle of bits lying on the desk. With great reluctance, Gran awkwardly grabbed a quill in his mouth, ready to draft a letter that might as well have been his death warrant.

A train whistle broke him out of his thoughts.

Walking onto into the nearly freezing cold, Grand looked out at the very unscheduled train coming from Equestria. It was a long line of coaches, longer than Grand could see to the end of, pulled by two great steam engines, one the colorful engine of the central Equestrian lines, and one a much older one a pure dark iron, some old relic dragged out of its museum to serve Equestria once more

“This… this station is the noble property of House Prix!” Grand Prix shouted as thousands of groggy Solar Guards piled out of the train, “Under what right do you-”

A great, and hostile thump emanated behind Grand. The hairs on the back of Grand’s mane prickled up as he sensed a large and looming presence behind him. As he dared to turn his head, he laid an eye upon Princess Celestia.

There was no warmth, no feeling of motherly wisdom, and kindness in her stance. Great black canyons were etched under Celestia’s eyes. Her smile had been warped into a hateful scowl.

“Duke Consort Grand Prix,” Celestia all but spat out.

Grand’s lips quivered unsure if he should say hello or scream in terror.

“Through your family’s greedy land grab, Equestria is now at war,” Celestia took a step forward.

“Wa… war? … I… didn’t mean…” Grand backed away.

Celestia closed the distance with one single stride, “Under the War Powers Act within the Founding Document, I am reinstating your military commission with the royal guard effective immediately.”
“I… haven’t commanded anypony… a real force in years…” Grand managed to tremble out.

“I also find your actions dishonorable, thus I revoke all gained medals, ranks, and military titles,” Celestia stated, “Effective immediately, you are only an enlisted guardsman.”

“But… but… my horn!” Grand indicated to the black wound.

Celestia eyes rested upon the wound, her anger briefly exchange for a look of surprise. However, the glare returned.

“As per your rights, I will provide a trained medical professional to observe your wounds in exactly twenty four hours. Until that time, I am considering you fit for duty.

“You… you don’t have… my rights as a noble…” Grand said before a golden aura forced his mouth shut.

Celestia used her magical grip to drag Grand to an inch before her face, “Because of your wife, I have relearned exactly where your noble rights END. Now, you are going tell me precisely what you have been doing to my little ponies...”

A green flame erupted in front of Celestia’s face. It had been close enough to singe some of the hairs upon Grand’s face.

From the green flame was a scroll bearing Princess Luna’s seal. She looked upon the letter with guilt.

The magic gripping Grand whisked away, Celestia walked back to her private train car, scroll in her arcane grip. Grand decided it was best to just join the crowd and not stick around for Celestia to find him again.

The Princess of the Sun dropped Luna’s scroll onto a pile of unread letters, all wearing Luna’s seal.

Celestia walked from the train into the chaos of her guards. Ponies of the engineering corp unpacked the army’s supplies while guard regiments were gathered together. Above all the noise was a high pitched hum. It grew louder in Celestia’s ears but it was far above the hearing range of the her ponies. The western sky was darkened by a moving black horde.

It was spotted, many of Celestia’s guard spotted the movement.

“They flanked us!”

“How did we not see them!”

Captain Radiant Blade shouted above the crowd, “Prepare arms! Get ready to fly! This town must not-”

“Do not worry my little ponies!” Celestia shouted above Radiant, “That is not our enemy, but your reinforcements!”
The darkened shape revealed itself to be the entirety of the Lunar Guard. Thousands of bat ponies descended from the sky. Their arrival was met with a dead silence from Celestia’s Solar Guards.

“Provisional Captain of the Lunar Guard, Night Watch reporting! The bat ponies are now at your command my Princess of the Day,” Night Watch said as she gave her salute to Celestia.

“Thank you for coming Night Watch,” Celestia replied.

Night Watch relaxed, “My Princess of the… Celestia, Luna has contacted me directly, and wants to know why you didn’t wake her to inform her about the war…”

“I will discuss with that with my sister on a later date.” Celestia became stone faced at the reminder.

“...Of course my Princess of the Day.” Night Watch bowed her, “I am sorry to have to disappoint our patron Princess, but if that is what has to be done, it will be done.”

Guilt welled up inside Celestia, but she allowed none of it to be visible to her subjects.

Night Watch continued, “As we flew off, we spotted the forces of Cloudsdale flying here as well. The Wonderbolts should be here within the hour.”

Unlike the silence that had greeted the Lunar Guard, when the full force of the full thousand Wonderbolts flew into Fairbrittle, it was met by wild cheering.

The legendary pegasi clad in blue padding landed amongst the crowd. Their wings were sore and their breathing was heavy, but it brought hope to the ranks of the Solar Guard.

A purple unicorn, weighed down by charts, maps, and the traditional crossbow of the Engineering Corp pushed her way to Celestia.

“I apologize, Princess,” Amethyst Star stated, “I have been forced to put out a thousand different fires of misplaced cargo, inaccurate roll sheets, and the noble guards who are apt to remind me that I am technically not part of their command structure. However, now that we are all here, we need to have a meeting to determine the best way to fortify and secure this town over the next few days as the rest of our forces arrive…”

Celestia’s attention was drawn away by a quiet sound. It was only distant whistle, a lower pitch than the whistles of the Equestrian trains, rang from the East.

From North Griffonia.

Then second whistle, then a third, each louder and louder, attracting the attention of first the bat ponies and then the rest of Equestria’s forces.

The army of North Griffonia was here.

The Griffonian train didn’t thunder down the tracks as Equestrian’s train had, but made a steady yet unyielding push forwards. The train engine was far less elegant than its Equestrian counterparts, but the engine itself was armored and ready for war.

The train came to a halt miles outside of Fairbrittle, all whistles blaring to both announce their arrival and shake the of the army out of its slumber.

Darius was up already up and about, tightening his breastplate into place. The rest of his comradeship was pulling themselves out of their hammocks, with one expected exception.

Cassandra laid down, refusing to open her eyes. Darius moved over to his sister, mumbling in her half sleep. He grabbed the side of her hammock, pulled, and sent her flying to the floor.

“ Cassandra!” Lancet dashed over to the fallen Cassandra, “Are you alright? Shall I fetch the medic-”

“No,” Cassandra stated forcibly. Cassandra looked upon the genuine look of concern upon Lancet’s face, “Sorry… I’m fine. I deserved that.”

“My deepest apologizes, maj… Cassandra.” Lancet looked down.

Cassandra rolled her eyes.

Lancet was already ready for battle, as she had slept in her armor. Jaine and Wallace were jammed together in a corner of the train car, avoiding eye contact with each other and putting their armor on in an awkward silence. Darius’ eyes lingered upon Wallace as the hippogriff pulled the gambeson down his barrel. Wallace’s eyes caught Darius’, and Darius pretended he had been staring at something else.

“Work in progress…” Darius reminded himself in his mind.

Armored and ready, the six exited into the order of the battle preparations. Engineers were crawling over the airships, untying them from the train, allowing the balloons to lift the ships into the sky. The medicinal wizards and the Holy Order of the Red Wing were setting up some temporary medical tents to prepared for the wounded that would come, with the Order of Penance standing silently in their night black armor. The rest of the Holy Orders were praying for blessings in the battle to come.

Baskets full of cold meat, water, and bread were passed around the troops. General Isabelle’s magically loud voice shouted above the crowd.

“Eat as much as you can as fast as you can. In six minutes you will split into your units. Prepare for war, and make your peace.”

“You heard the general, dig in,” Cassandra said before stuffing fish and bread into her beak.

Darius broke bread and tried to have his fill in a politer manner than a sister. A solid claw tapped against his shoulder. When he turned, a pair of armored ganissary stood behind him.

“Darius the Second of Clan Ironborn,” yhe first ganissary stated, “Your King now calls in his request of aid he asked of you.”

“Will you fulfill your oath?” the second asked.

Darius stood up, and nodded. He looked over the group. Surprise and confusion covered their faces, except for Cassandra. She was trying to keep up a smile on her beak, but it was not the genuine one she normally wears.

“Take care of yourselves, I expect to see you all of you after this,” Darius stretched out his wings and took flight.

Before anyone could ask the questions burning in their minds, General Isabelle’s voice crossed over the field once again, “Breakfast is over, split off into your units!”

“None of you asses die on me, agreed?” Cassandra said with a wave and a smirk, “I have plans and all your heads need to somehow connected to your butts for any of them to work.”

Celestia watched in the twilight of the morning the grand griffonian army moving and shifting, airships rising. In her magic, she was feeling the mounting pressure.

Her sun had lost most of its momentum she had given it to push through the ether. Its counter-balance of the moon was pressing against the horizon behind her. Celestia didn’t want the day to come, but her duty to the entire world dictated on that moment, the sun must rise.

Her horn ignited in it’s golden glow, reaching out to the massive ball of gas, plasma, and magic. She pushed against the ether keeping the celestial bodies at rest, giving her sun the centrifugal force required to move her charge across the sky.

Celestia was aware she wasn’t alone in this effort. Even being so far away, Celestia could feel Luna’s grip pushing the moon below the horizon, leaving one more sting into Celestia’s heart.

As the sun’s light started falling over the field, the Griffonian airships moved across the sky, turning directly into the wind to vaguely hold their positions. Higher than the rest was the King’s ship, the Sword of the Sky, with it’s balloon proudly displaying the sigil of clan Ironclaw.

Inside of the hull of the ship, Rhosus was sat upon, surrounded by a dozen ganissaries. The Crown was removed from Rhosus’ head, the royal cape was untied and taken from his shoulders. Before him stood Darius, who was staring at Rhosus as one stares at a madman.

“That is your plan?” Darius asked in frustrated disbelief.

“I told you it came with personal risk,” Rhosus affirmed, “Celestia needs to be taken out of this war, you-

“Why do you wish to die?” Darius interrupted.

Rhosus paused, “... I am not taking my own life-”

“You are throwing yourself at Celestia, the shepherd of the sun, so she will do it,” Darius nearly shouted, “You really think this will preserve you honor and soul, that you can just swindle death with this obvious suicide by duel. You think will soar with the Sky as you leave our nation helpless without you, at the beginning of a war?”

Rhosus tried to start again, “Darius-”

“What about me? What about Cassandra? What about Alex?” Darius forced backed the tears, “Are we just not good enough reason to live? Were you lying that we were like your own? Do you think Norah would want this? Do you think Martha would have wanted this?”

Rhosus moved over and hugged his adopted son, “... I would be lying if the temptation of death hasn’t allured me with it’s promise of an end to the pain. However, I am not falling for such seduction today, I know I need to see tomorrow.”

“Celestia moves the sun across the sky,” Darius cried with desperation, “How… How can anything stand up against her and live?”

“She is the shepherd of the sun, but she is still a pony, with limitations on her power,” Rhosus stated to convince both Darius and himself, “Some from without, but most from within. I swear that I will fight to live, fight to stay here with what family I have left.”

Darius stared at the ground.

Rhosus sighed, “Darius, I… Cassandra is often a taxing nightmare, Alex is too naive, and you... I know what… immoral partners you have taken, and your refusal to return to the natural path.”

Darius stiffened within Rhosus’ grip.

“Despite that, you are still my son,” Rhosus said with conviction, “Not as your King, nor as your commander, but as your father, I need you to swear that you will uphold your part in the fight to come, no matter what happens to me.”

Darius meekly replied, “I swear.”

“Thank you,” Rhosus pulled out of the hug, “For now, there is no more to discuss.”

The Ganissaries got to work.

In their hands they held toughest and most protective kind of armor in Griffonia, the Dragon Slayer. Rhosus retracted his wings and kept his tail against his left leg. An additional set of cloth padding was was wrapped around the wings, keeping the wings firmly in place. The tail was tightly tied to the leg before yet another piece of cloth was placed over it. The Ganissaries set about the long task of encasing their king in the armor.

The Dragon Slayer wasn’t an accurate name. In practice, the armor was really the Dragon Distractor. Every piece had to be screwed together, as ties or even metal latches could fail under the dragon’s breath. A glass face mask, tinted black, went over the eyes before the helmet, so no flame’s heat or light would blind the user. The massive shield was riveted to the left arm. Layers and layers of padding decreased the chance of bones being shattered by a drake’s claw. There were hard limits for how much the user could move the limbs, to prevent the user from opening up gaps that could allow the dragon’s searing inferno from touching the skin. The armor forces the user to stand on their hind legs at all times to make the best use out of the shield. To prevent the user from falling over or ruining their spine, supports ran from the torso to the feet, helping with balance and taking off a portion of the armor’s immense weight off of the user.

For any normal battle, it was too heavy, required the soldier move too slow to attack any object or keep up with even the slowest of grounded foes. However it was big, shielded the user from any conventional attack, and was intimidating.

When a dragon was rampaged through Griffonia, and diplomatic solutions had failed, soldiers would dawn Dragon Slayer armors. With magically enchanted jeers, a group would attract the dragon’s attention. They would goad the dragons into a fight that appeared to be a worthy challenge, to get the dragon onto the ground and into the correct position.

With the beast occupied, a stealthier group of soldiers hiding nearby would spring into action, flying swiftly to attack the dragon’s eyes.

The last piece, Rhosus’ helmet, was screwed into place. The Ganissaries stepped aside to allow a team of wizards to work their magics into the metal.

On another airship far below, General Isabelle, General Heyton, Sister Talsa and the heads of the Orders were on making the final preparations. Heyton’s staff had set up a carnival of instruments and ballistic ledgers. Talsa sat with the other sisters in silent prayer. Isabelle was looking over a map.

“I want the bags of gunpowder placed, here, here and here.” Isabelle pointed to several points along the main track to Griffonia, “Have a unit of reserves prepared to detonate in the case of a full retreat. Make sure all unit commanders understand they are only to retreat by going South East over the sea.”

Her hippogriff aid held up a claw, “My commander, General Tran…”

“IF General Tran continues to refuse to see the sanity of a general plan of retreat,” Isabelle shouted, “do not let him or those under your command to hinder your efforts. They are to come to me, or take it up with our King. Is that understood?”

The hippogriff nodded.

On the ground far below, the spear troops were arranged on the ground. Instead of flying in individual units, today they had all been ordered to pack together as closely as possible. It was meant to be an awesome moment. As usual, General Easton was doing everything within his power to crush such excitement with an ‘inspiring’ speech. He was dressed up in armor finer than even the King’s. A pure silver breastplate had been smithed so tightly around Easton’s chest it was a wonder he could breath. His front shoulder pads were massive. While they would look impressive when he stood on his hind legs or took up some flying fighting stance, it just appeared to be unbalanced as he stood on both paw and claw. An oversized buckler was attached to his arm, proudly displaying his clan’s sigil, with ingrained descriptions of the glorious battles he had won despite his leadership. On his belt was his sword, a glorified dagger rich in detail and impossible to hold comfortably, and a fancy wheel lock that was in pristine condition, for it had never actually been fired.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, the dawn’s shine blasted rising light straight into the eyes of many ranks. Thankfully for the crowd, his speech was coming to an end.

“...Furthermore, this day will be a day of the ages. If you act well, your grandchildren will eagerly tell your tales, and history will ascend the masterminds behind our strategy to the status of heroes. I just ask that you do not disappoint.

Easton gave a great bow. So great in fact, that his unbalanced armor made him smack his beak straight into the ground. Still, the good general did it with such grace that only the front few rows noticed. Applause for the speech was short and limited, except from Easton’s political allies.

Neither General Heyton or General Isabelle were in attendance, each concerning themselves with other issues besides their public image or the troops’ moral. Heyton was up above on some airship doing ballistic calculations while Isabelle continued to adjust and readjust the plans of attack and retreat.

General Tran stood behind his colleague, giving a single clap in hope that would satisfy Easton’s ego enough to let a real military commander speak. As the hippogriff wizard placed an enchant on Tran’s throat, the general reflexively hand a claw on his sword. The hippogriff cast the spell and pulled away. General Tran’s eyes followed the hippogriff, attempting to find any deceit in a being Tran refused to trust.

Tran began with his magically enhanced voice, “I have seen many soldiers, many daughters and sons, fight for our crown, our Sky, and our honor. I have seen too many pay by blood for our lives. However, today, we are faced with annihilation. Today’s strategy is unorthodox. Your core, in particular, have been given a duty that seems contrary to honor. A tactic of cowards. However, I am here to assure each and every one of you, the reason you have receive your orders is because Equestria has no honor. Equestria and their Tyrant of the Sun have stolen our lands and slaughtered our future queen.

“The ponies have not earned your blood. They have not earned that honor, so we shall not give it to them. All they have earned is a slaughter. Are you going to let them take your blood?”

In a huge resounding voice, thousands of soldiers lifted their spears and shouted in return.

“NO!”

“Are you going to let them take another inch of our heritage?”

“NO!”

“Will you show mercy for their affront to our honor?”
“NO!”

Trans smiled as he looked upon the legions of griffons, holding their spears together as one. That smile shrank the more and more hippogriffs and ponies he saw among the masses. In his mind, it was unfortunate state of affairs, but one that would be solved another day.

“You shall go out, and prove to Equestria what it means to be a Griffon!”

“Present arms!”

On command, Jaine lifted her musket from the ground and held it against her shoulder facing upwards, with the rest of the musketeers of her corp.

“Prepare powder!”

With her free claw, Jaine took out a powder measure, a simple little syringe like device for loading the gunpowder into the weapon.

“Load weapons!”

The entire Corp switched to holding the guns in a loading position. With a click, Jaine pulled the hammer to half cock, and opened the flash pan. She put the powder measure into the pan and pressed on the button. No powder came out of her powder measure. She shook the device, “Oh you little piece of shit. I didn’t just spend a long night sleeping so close to a hipp… sleeping on a train. You are going to just fucking work I will…”

Jaine took a second look, and realized the locking mechanism was still in place, “Oh.”

She pulled out the locking mechanism with her beak, then poured the first set of powder down into the pan, with a second measure down into the barrel. She reached into her pouch of bullets. Normally she would’ve had to wrap a piece of cloth around the lead projectile, but the army had supplied its soldiers with a factory produced pre-wrapped bullets.

She took her ram rod and shoved the bullet down the barrel.

“Reload powder!”

Jaine opened her measure, and poured a fresh amount of powder into the device from her powder flask.

“Fly in wall formation!”

All the Musketeers flew into the air.

The Griffonian formation took shape.

“A wall formation?” Captain Radiant Blade said as he watched through binoculars, “One giant wall formation?”

“Well what did you expect much from those birdbrains? Competence?” Spitfire shook her head, “I am surprised all of them remembered which end of the spear is the pointy end.”

Soarin snickered.

Night Watch squinted into the light. “It isn’t just that simple. Look, they have a line of shoot sticks about a third of the way up from the bottom. I also think I can see archers peeking over the top of that Griffonian wall.”

Radiant nodded his head slightly, “So there are. Not much to be concerned about. Their sheer numbers will only pose an issue in a protracted fight. We will have to break their moral.”

“Won’t be any problem for you, you old geezer,” Spitfire lightly hit Radiant’s size, “You want to fly over there yourself or do you want your guards to have fun as well?”

Soarin looked at the Griffonian, “The edges of that wall is the only one uniformly armored, I think that is all of their professional spears. The entire center looks like it’s their poor civilians drafted to fight.”

Spitfire smiled, “They’re scared! They are terrified about being hit on the sides by us Wonderbolts!”

Second captain of the royal guard and commander of the ground forces, Tart Bake, pointed at the ground, “They have only a loose collection of less than a thousand armored soldiers on the ground and some of their silly cannons. They shouldn’t put up any kind of fight.”

Amethyst Star held up a hoof. “Radiant, may I have your permission to move our train’s engines to face Equestria while you engage the enemy?”

Radiant turned to Amethyst, “Why would you do that? Do you expect us to retreat?”

“We barely have enough water or food for the next two days,” Amethyst explained, “Even if Celestia condones an invasion, we are going to need to send the train back to pick up supplies and more of our forces.”

Radiant nodded once again, “Reasonable enough. Night Watch, your batponies will stay in the town and by the train as our reserve troops. We will call for you when needed.”

Night Watch’s expression turned sour, “Sir, I will have to object…”

“Objection noted, Provisional Captain,” Radiant Blade cut in, “Your kind is not meant to be up at this hour, and we need the people of Fairbrittle to remain calm.”

Night Watch bowed her head, “Yes sir.”

Radiant turned to the rest, “Spitfire, you will take the Wonderbolts around their side. Fly fast and hit whatever vulnerable targets you find.”

Spitfire saluted.

“Tart, take our unicorns and Earth Ponies along the ground, smash that tiny force and then march on their train and camp.”

Trat nodded, tightening his helmet with his magical grip, “I only wish the grounded parts of the guard could be of more assistance, sir.”

“I know my friend, another time,” Radiant said, “Finally, I will take the pegasus portion of the guard into a spear head formation. We will smash directly into their weak center, and keep pushing forward until we see our Princess’s sun. With any luck, those conscripts will break on our impact, and trigger a rout for the whole army.”

“What about the airships?” Amethyst Star inquired.

Radiant Blade smiled, “Why should we be concerned with those flying boats? Once this battle is over, we will capture those crude pleasure craft and sell them to some noble who can’t afford a fancier flying yacht.”

Radiant turned to his silence princess, “Princess Celestia, are my order sufficient?”

Celestia did not respond, she was looking up into her sun. The Griffonian army flew into the air, blocking out the light of her personal star. Griffon airships blotted the sky, one covered with a huge banner, a iron claw balled into a fist. A great sigh passed through her lips.

“Radiant, you will bring your troops into a formation, and counter any attack they make against my little ponies,” Celestia stood up, “However, you will not fly forward in any other circumstance. Is that understood?”

“Princess…” Radiant began.

“Is that understood?” Celestia shouted.

Radiant bowed his head, “Yes your majesty.”

“I am not going to let any of my little ponies die,” Celestia’s horn began to glow, “Peace is not lost.”

Her ancient battle armor circled around her body held in a golden aura. Each piece flew into it’s place, latching together in a song of metallic clicks. Finally her helmet descended down her horn and was affixed to her head.

It was time.

Celestia picked up a dozen of closest pegasus guards in a magical grip. They were fast, but she needed to be immediate.

With a single powerful beat of her wings, Celestia and her guards were in the air. Beating faster and faster, a mach cone formed around her body. She couldn’t break through it, but she came very, very close. Celestia was across the field in seconds, decelerating a thousand feet from her target just to make sure her guards survived.

Celestia looked down upon Rhosus’ airship. The deck was empty except for one lone griffon, completely covered in armor.

She could sense all the charms and enchantments covering that suit without even trying. As her magic probed deeper, Celestia found those enchantments to all be defensive, magic to insure the wearer remained alive.

“Celestia,” Rhosus’ voice, saturated with both anger and despair, called from the armor.

A golden aura burst to life around Celestia horn as she scanned the ship. The only magic on the ship itself was ingrained into Rhosus’ armor. There were no other griffons, no other life forms, and there wasn’t even any kegs of the griffon gunpowder she so utterly despised. The only thing she sensed was Rhosus, his armor, and a slowly dying engine, just keeping the ship standing still against the wind.

Foolishly, Celestia hadn’t considered to scan the balloon.

Celestia broke her arcane grip on her guards, “Stay here. I am going to end this alone.”

The pegasus guards gave her a reluctant nodded. Celestia landed on the deck of the ship.

As soon as her hooves touched the deck, the air became saturated with magic. An arcane bubble surrounded the airship, locking Celestia inside. The guards pounded uselessly against the magical shield.

“Neither of us is going anywhere while I stand,” Rhosus finally stated.

Celestia felt the shields source, from the hull of the other airships, from hundreds of different hippogriff wizards, all using Rhosus’ armor as a conduit.

“King Rhosus Ironclaw II, I will not allow this madness will not go further,” Celestia interrupted in Royal Canterlot voice, magic charging upon her horn. A beam of destructive force shot out, smacking into the side of shield. She poured more and more energy in her attempt to break out. However, the shield remained.

Celestia continued, “I know you are grieving. I know that you hurt, I know how much it hurts, but nobody else has to die.”

King Rhosus stood in place and said nothing.

Celestia took a step closer, “Why are you leading your nation to destruction? Would Norah want this?”

At the name, even under his armor, Celestia saw Rhosus flinch, but once again he said nothing.

“I brought Equestria’s army here today, but we still do not need to have a war,” Celestia stated with slowly building desperation, “Turn around, and bring your warriors home. My guards will not move an inch further into your lands. We can still resolve this in peace. The destined future can still be preserved.”

As Celestia spoke, on the opposite side of the battlefield, Radiant looked at the arcane shield in panic. Her orders to hold position had been clear, and her word to him was law. Yet, she was now trapped behind enemy lines, an act of diplomacy cut with treatory.

In the back of his mind, the statement he swore to become a member of the royal guard came to his mind.

“From this day until the end of my service is to the defense of my Princess, her ponies, and the realm.”

The path was clear.

“Equestrians!” Radiant yelled in a booming voice that spread throughout the ranks, “Those beasts have betrayed our Princess Celestia! Honor your first duty! Protect the crown! CHARGE!”

The dusty horns of Equestria’s war machine rang out across the battlefield. The Griffonian drums of war answered them.

Celestia turned her head at the noises looking on in horror as the Equestrian lines advanced.

“Celestia, that is why I am here,” Rhosus began, “In the last thousand years, you have sat by and let Equestria fall to corruption and rot. You have insulted my family and my nation merely through your inaction.”

A slow grind rang out as Rhosus unsheathed his arming sword, “By the blood of my mother and the blood of my father,” From his shielded arm, he held out his one unarmored talon, “I, King Rhosus of Clan Ironclaw, second of my name, bring this challenge and bind it with this oath.” Rhosus sliced into the talon, let a line of blood, “You let Norah, one of the blood of my mother and the blood of my father, die. For this insult, I challenge you to combat, only to be resolved by those of the blood of my mother and my father, and those of the blood of your mother and your father. If you accept, I give an oath to restrain the bloodlust of my people, and spare as many of your ponies as I can.”

Celestia looked down to her army, charging in opposition of her orders, and the line of blood on Rhosus’ blade. Tired, filled with shame and defeat, Celestia closed her eye and nodded. The golden magical aura swirled around Celestia’s horn.

Rhosus had barely raised his shield when it was hit by a massive burst of magic.

On the field, the Equestrian forces continued their flight forward. Spitfire led the Wonderbolts ahead of the main pegasus force, heading to the Northern end of the Griffonian formation to flank the massive spear wall.

Then the Griffonian cannons blasted to life. Fired from the airships, iron and lead cannon balls flew at the main Equestrian force. Several twisted and flew away, others were aimed too low and fell short, but enough hit the cone of pegasi. With the high weight and momentum, the handful of balls that hit punched their way through armor, skin, and bones, rarely being halted by the body of a single pony.

Wallace felt a knot in his stomach. The archers were deployed just behind the top row of griffons. They could only barely see the approaching pegasus army through the wall of their own pike troops. A female griffon to his left was outright groaning in impatience.

A firework was fired from one of the airships and burst in a green flame. All the archers nocked their arrows to the strings and lifted their bows to the full 45 degrees. Wallace looked through the troops and adjusted his aim towards the very tip of the formation. A second firework was launched and burst into a red flame. Wallace released his thumb to let the arrow fly.

Wallace was nocking his next arrow when the deafening blasts of the airship cannons fire erupted across the field.

Radiant’s eyes steeled himself as he watched the cloud of griffon arrows rose. He pulled back his legs under his body and flapped his wings rapidly, trusting his armor to protect the rest of him. The Spearhead flew into the volley of arrows just as much as the arrows fell onto them. One arrow banged into his helmet. Pain radiated from the impact, but Radiant ignored the ultimately minor injury.

Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly against the armor. However others found their mark. Several of the guards who hadn’t pulled in their limbs had been punished with an arrow through the leg. Others were unlucky enough to be hit in their exposed wings. The only immediate guard deaths caused by the first arrow volley were those felled when arrows found their way into the helmets eyegap.

The badly wounded fell from the formation, turned around, and glided back towards Equestria’s camps, for Celestia’s combat doctrine emphasized guard survival over anything else.

The much faster Wonderbolts had passed the northern flank of the Griffonian. The professional griffonian flank did not react to the Wonderbolts movements. Spitfire wanted to quickly charge into the Griffonian archers or muskets, but entirety of the Griffonian Youth Brigade stood in their way.

Cassandra was among them, inching to just charge in and take on the legendary Wonderbolts, but hovered in place as ordered. When the Wonderbolts moved up, the Youth Brigade flew up. When the Wonderbolts dived down, the Youth Brigade fell down as well. While unable to match the Wonder Bolt’s speed, the Youth Brigade had three times the Wonderbolts number and were able to still effectively shadow the Wonderbolts movements.

The main Equestrian force had come within range of the musketlines.

“Ready arms!”

Jaine’s entire gun formation cocked the hammer on their loaded muskets. She could vaguely hear the command repeated down the massive line of gunners.

“Angle!”

The command held out her own musket at an angle pointed up to the rapidly nearing Equestrian soldiers. The formation roughly aimed in the same direction. The commanders remained silent, waiting for the right moment...

“FIRE!”

In unison, thousands of Griffonian musketeers fired up into the Equestrian guards. Unlike the arrows, which were falling onto the pony’s heavily armored back, the vast majority of the bullets were firing up into the nearly unprotected undersides.

Some of the bullets were caught in the chainmail, but so many more found their way into the belly and limbs of Equestrian soldiers.

Through the white smoke, Jaine gazed at the flocks of dead guard, falling from the formation towards the ground so far below.

She fumbled with her weapon, ready to reload on command.

“Fall back!”

The entire wall of musketeers retreated back out of their position between the blocks of pikes and spears. As soon as they were clear, the lower spears flew up, closing the gap.

“Prepare powder!”

Jaine began the reloading procedure anew.

At the tip of Equestria’s charged, Radiant looked on as so many of the men he had grown to see as brothers just drop to the ground. Pride was replaced with fury. Fury gave into blind rage.

Without warning, he hefted up his weapon, and fired the bullet. In the plan this would lead to a single heavy barrage from Equestria’s side before the final impact.

A few fired with their commander. However, the vast majority of the Royal Equestria Guards tried to feel for the trigger on a weapon so many were unfamiliar with. What was meant to be a single barrage was instead dozens of bursts as individuals guards managed to remembered how to fire their unergonomic weapons at different times. The green smoke and loud noise caused a few to panic within Equestria’s own ranks, as they had never been accustomed to mass gunfire.

Despite this, the tactic appeared to have the desired effect. Before Radiant’s eyes, the Griffionian center started to receded before his charge. Victory appeared to be assured.

Yet, the center did not break. It was not a rote or even a retreat, but a trap. As the center retreated, Griffonian flanks to the sides, above, and below remained stationary. The Equestrian army was charging straight into it’s own envelopment.

The Griffonian center once again hovered firm, holding a mix of spears, great axes, and halberds out. A massive wall of blades ignited the natural instincts of all the Equestrian guards. Those at the front tried to stop, tried to avoid the wall of death, but were forced forward by those behind them.

What was meant to be a single lethal impact and breakthrough was a weak push, the Equestrian guards now surrounded on three sides by Griffonian spears, with the strongest and most battle hardened griffons on Equestria’s vulnerable flanks.

Behind the Griffonian lines, the Youth Brigade and the Wonderbolts continued their deadly aerial dance. Neither side had moved closer to the other. Despite that Spitfire kept pushing her troops to outfly the much larger but slower Youth Brigade. Soarin’s wings stung from the constant full speed flight, and among the Wonderbolts he wasn’t alone. However, it was clear the Youth Brigade were in a much worse state.

Spitfire shouted to her troops, “They are tired, this is our chance. I just need one more push, just one final sprint, and we can leave these children sucking our tails! Wonderbolts, FLY!” She sped up into the air.

Cassandra looked at the Wonderbolts ascending, readied her exhaust wings to follow.

“DOWN!” her commanders shouted.

Confusion flowed through the Youth Brigade’s ranks, but everyone, including Cassandra complied.

Spitefire smiled as the Youth Brigade appeared to give up the chase, leaving absolutely nothing between the Wonderbolts and the airships. Nothing to protect the Griffonian airships from a destruction, and nothing in the way of the airship’s cannons.

Unlike the frontal charge, those cannons were no longer loaded with single projectiles, but cannister shot. Thousand of projectiles erupted from the cannons towards the Wonderbolts.

Before Soarin’s eyes, Spitfire disintegrated into a cloud of blue and red. A third of all the Wonderbolts were dead in an instant.

Where dedication, bravery, and the desire to improve himself had once lived in Soarin’s soul, there was suddenly only one desire, a deep instinct he had not felt before, the need to run.

In moments, Cassandra watched the surviving Wonderbolts break apart and retreat away in any and every direction.The main

Flying three rows in the Griffonian spearlines, Shear Terrace hovered. On the outside, she was hovering with determination. On the outside, she appeared to be slightly shaking, the smile on the outside implied the shaking was from adrenaline. On the outside, the pegasus appeared to have no fear at all.

“This is the Sky’s will,” Shear reasoned with herself, “I have to earn the Sky’s forgiveness… I just need… I just need to kill them, and everything… everything will finally be right… I can’t be afraid, I can’t be afraid.”

The griffon soldier at the front had tired out, squeezing back between the lines to the back. Shear was pressed forward.

To calm her nerves, Shear bit down on her worn out spear.

The soldier at the front of the line screamed in agony. The griffon had taken a speak to her armpit. The griffon was able to stab back into her Equestrian foe in an more immediately lethal attack, but retreated back, Shear felt little bits of blood hit her coat as the griffon flew back. Now, only one soldier stood between Shear and the front line.

Shear’s heart was pounding in her ears, gripping so tightly to her spear that her fletlocks hurt. She could clearly hear the carnage as so many on both sides were being cut down. A rhythmic clash of metal against metal, like the gears of a factory.

She didn’t notice the advantage the Griffonian forces had. She didn’t even realize she was slowly flying forward as the entire formation pressed in on the depleting Equestrian forces. Her eyes were glued to the clash of spears happening right before her.

“Sky, please, just once please, listen to my prayer,” Shear thought as tears welled up in my eyes, “I know I am the spawn of the Arcane, but please, I want to serve you. I want to be free. Just, just this once, grant me the courage to-”

A spear point came through the back of the neck of the griffon on the front lines. The Equestria soldier pulled his spear out of his foes neck. The griffon soldier breathed his last, his body falling down out of the way.

Shear slowly moved forward to take her place in the carnage. The Equestrian guard in front of her looked at Shear, a pony fighting for the griffons. He jabbed forward, trying to silence the perceived traitor with one stab.

Shear’s muscles remembered their training, parrying the jab faster than her mind was able. She neither noticed nor cared about the battle around them. The guard pushed to kill the treasonist to the pony race, Shear desperately tried to stay alive. In anger, the guard finally made a mistake. He extended out, in a strike aimed at Shear’s neck as Shear made her own jab. More of blind panic than any sort of plan, Shear twisted out of the way of the strike, the spearhead glancing off her helmet.

As the guard tried to pull his weapon back, she stabbed forward, driving her spearhead under the chainmail into the pony’s unprotected chest. Death fell over the Equestrian guard. Lancet pulled her weapon from her foe with a slow sickening squish as the blade cut back through muscle.

Her duty had been done, that guard was the first thing she had ever killed, the second thing she had ever watched die. As the guard’s limp body fell to the earth, Shear did not feel a swell of pride, a sense of accomplishment of enacted honor. She just wanted to vomit.

However, there was no time to consider her actions, no time to atone for what she had done, another foe moved into position. Shear began the fight for survival once more.

Seventeen positions to the left and four positions below Shear was a completely different story. Lancet was not at the verge of sickness or panic. A smile plastered her face as she went through the deadly dance.

Just as with her competition sparring, Lancet’s cutie mark pushed her along as her guide. Unlike the competition sparring, in battle Lancet held nothing back. Feint to the eye to make her victim flinch then followup with a jab into the chest. Give a cut to the unarmored knee and slice a vein in the leg to make her enemy bleed. She never made a strike until her enemy made a mistake.

She slashed upwards, catching an Equestrian guard that wasn’t paying attention below himself. As the guard screamed as his leg bled, a griffon took the distraction and ended the guard’s life. The griffon took a moment to look down and smile in thanks. It warmed Lancet’s heart. She always loved to help.

Rhosus’ personal airship was in ruins. Celestia had blasted large chunks out of the hull, some from misaimed blasts, others from where she had telekinetically ripped bits of the ship to use as projectiles. Thankfully the shield keeping them in had survived Celestia’s blows, and balloon had remained largely untouched.

The King was exhausted from their duel, his hind legs burned from fighting in such massive armor. Rhosus’ ribs were broken, the shield designed to take the blows of a dragon’s claw was bent, a sword designed to hold out inside the hottest fire had partially melted. Burns covered his body, pain covered his body.

Princess Celestia was still standing strong. She had no technique behind her attacks, centuries of being out of practice had left her only with her raw magical strength and frustration at her disposal, but she more than enough of both. Rhosus had spent this entire fight so intent on staying alive that he hadn’t even landed a blow on her. Not that striking her down with his short sword was ever part of Rhosus’ plan.

All Rhosus needed was for Celestia to move to be facing the opposite direction, but Celestia had refused to even move from where she had landed. On the point of collapsing from exhaustion, Rhosus tried on last desperate gambit.

As Celestia prepared another attack, Rhosus managed to call upon what little strength his legs to just charge forward. He deflected the magical blow, continuing forward, readying a strike, only to trip and fall as his foot caught on one of the many holes now littering the deck. The impact sent a stinging pain up his shielded arm.

However, even this blunder provided the desired result, Celestia turned. Step by step Celestia walked till she was over Rhosus. He held out his shield in pitiful attempt to defend himself. The armors enchantments had prevented Celestia from simply magically gripping Rhosus and throwing him around like a rag doll, but it provided no protection from her immense earth pony derived strength. Her hoof pounded down against the shield, bending the metal, further breaking the arm holding it, and pushing the air out of Rhosus’ lungs. Again and again until finally the shield broke in two, breaking the conduit and bringing down the arcane bubble that had contained them both.

Celestia’s guards had been untouched throughout the battle, but had been stunned at what they had just witnessed.

“Rhosus,” Celestia stated between heavy breaths, “Yield.”

Rhosus continued to breath in, trying to replace the lost air to reply back.

“I do not wish to kill you,” Celestia said, the anger leaving her voice, “I do not wish to even fight you. I just want to protect my ponies. If you do not, I will throw myself into your soldiers. Do not force me to bring my full wrath upon them to protect Equestria.”

Rhosus bowed his head. His breathing became steady as he forced air back into his compressed lungs. Rhosus finally shouted a single word.

“DARIUS!”

Darius moved into action. Before the fight, he had hid, waiting patiently as he hung from the far side of the balloon with his great axe. The screams of Rhosus had been heartbreaking, but Darius had remained at his post, waiting for Rhosus to give the command.

Darius pushed himself from the balloon, ascending only for a moment, looping into the air. He spun himself, expertly flew parallel to the airship’s deck straight at Celestia, axe ready to swing.

If Celestia had maintained the combat training and practice she had under her youth, she would have sent multiple magical attacks behind her to thwart the ambush. If Celestia had maintained the combat practice and training that she expected of her royal guard, she would have dived out of the way of the attack. If Celestia had maintained any combat practice at all, she might have even thrown up a arcane shield to defend herself. However, after centuries of no practice, after centuries of her combat skills being atrophied into non-existence, Celestia only turned her head.

Darius cleaved his axe, not aiming at her neck or head, but at Celestia’s horn. The great axe’s shaft shattered upon impact, as it was weaker than the magical material within Celestia’s horn. Yet, the metal cut in deep enough to crack Celestia’s horn.

The defensive spell Celestia’s had been conjuring burst out of the crack, blasting the area in blinding light, and sending Celestia off the side of airship.

Duty fulfilled, Rhosus finally accepted the exhaustion and collapsed.

The blast of light shone across the battlefield. Most of the Equestrian pegasus formations lines were blinded by the blast, while the majority of Griffonia’s forces had been spared, as they had been facing the other direction. As the Equestrians were left blinking the spots out of there eyes, the Griffonians pressed their advantage, slaughtering more of their sightless foes.

Radiant swung his spear in confusion, through blind luck manage to hit away most of the strikes aimed at his body. The blinding white of his vision faded, except for one spot.

Radiant blinked away what appeared to be a mere after image of the blast. However, it was no illusion. Sailing towards the ground, the white limp form of Celestia slowly descended, with all the grace and elegance as a falling corpse. He didn’t even notice the shapes of Celetia’s personal guards rushing to catch their princess.

“Celestia is dead!”
“The sun is bucking dead!”
“They are going to eat us!”
“RUN!”
The famed pegasus Equestria Royal Guards, a proud force that has stood strong for a thousand years under Celestia’s light, began a collapse into chaos. The pegasi in the back began to flee in mass, some even in the front dropped their weapons, desperately pushed through their own lines to escape.

“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” Raidant cried at the top of his lungs, “HOLD YOUR GROUND! YOUR PRINCESS IS IN PERIL! WE MUST BREAK THROUGH! WE MUS-!”

A quiet slice cut out his next word. Radiant wanted to say more, but his voice failed before it even reached his lips. The Captain of the Guard looked down at the halberd in his neck. He felt the blood oozing from the wound, but he didn’t feel the pain. He traced the blade’s shaft, not to a claw of a griffon, but a hoof of a pony. It was a pegasus mare, wearing a big smile.

Even as his wings went weak and darkness consumed his sight, Radiant could not bring himself to look away from the sweet smile that killed him.

Equestria’s ground forces for the moment were unaware of what was happening above them. Their charge forward had become a slow trot through sticky mud. Lines of magical shields protected the earth ponies and unicorns, but the mages maintaining that protection were being strained from a constant barrage. The griffons before them were only just in range of mage blasts. Even as a few of griffon’s numbers fell, they remained utterly still and eerily quiet.

Prace Prix was in the front lines, his stomach growling from being denied it’s alcoholic nectar, horn aching from it’s blackened wound, and frustrated for being forced to walk as an equal to commoner guards.

Another pegasus corpse smashed into the ground from the air just a couple of yards . The unicorn legions seemingly have gotten used to such a sight, Prace barely flinched.

A shootstick fell against the shield and splintered. Then a second. Then a third. Yet, pegasuses bodies didn’t immediately follow. Prace looked up, his eyes widened.

The pegasus lines had crumbled. Even from the ground, Prace could tell this was no organized retreat with any intent to regroup and charge again. This was a rout. The desperate mob flying in any direction trying to just get away, dropping their weapons as they fled. The same weapons that were now falling straight towards them.

The hailstorm of discarded spears smashed against the unicorns shields. Several shields collapsed immediately. The most of these guards were caught entirely off guard, dying instantly as spears traveling at near terminal velocity hit their helmets and cracked open their skulls. The shield above Prace’s head managed to hold, but cracks covered the surface. The unicorn maintaining the shield started to shriek in pain as the effort became too great.

In this world of wood splintering, yells of pain and terror, and the roar of cannon fire, a faint sound rumbled across the field, the sound of a horn.

In a daze, Prace looked back to the griffon on the ground. The previously motionless armored warrior were charging forward. There was another sound, a dull rumble that only got louder. The shouting of terror was becoming more distant. Prace turned around. The rest of Prace’ unit had given into the fear. The proud and noble legions had given up and were in a frenzied gallop away.

Without even feeling his legs move, Prace was one of them.

The Griffonian forces, the archers, the muskets, the Youth Brigade, and even the spear wall started their pursuit. The Youth Brigade set to hunt down the various remains of the wonderbolts, the main spear lines pursued the Pegasus guards, and the skirmishing muskets and archers attacked the fleeing ground forces.

Arrows landed all around Prace. Earth ponies and unicorns were brought down by bullets and bows. There was no way they could outrun the hail of projectiles of the flying Griffonian forces.

Grand looked forward, jumping over the screaming body of another guard, at what first appeared to be another set of griffons flying down at him from the front. However, he realized it was not griffons, but it was the Lunar guards instead.

The reserve of bat ponies charged into the Griffonian musket and archers, twin hoof blades slicing in all directions. Most of the Griffonians scattered away from the charge. With a temporary relief, the Lunar guards started to pick up their earth pony and unicorn comrades, flying away as fast as their leathered wings allowed.

A bright smile crossed Grand’s face as a bat pony descended towards him.

Far above and far behind Grand, Wallace spotted Grand’s shining and richly decorated armor among the unicorn crowd. Nocking an arrow into his bow, Wallace looked around to see if any Lunar Guards were near. All the closest bat ponies were either exchanging blows with musketeers using their guns as clubs, or chasing around other archers. Wallace pulled back the string, aimed at Grand’s neck, and let loose.

It was a quick shot, the arrow was aimed slightly to low. It didn’t arch into the exposed part of Grand’s neck, it hit his leg instead.

A shooting pain emitted from Grand’s calf, blood trickling down to the hoof. He started to swear out in pain. His bat pony savior paused in concern.

“What the buck are you waiting for?” Grand shouted, “Pick up your superior, you bucking rat with wings!”

The Lunar Guard looked as if he had just been buck in the face. Grand’s anger morphed into regret as the bat pony flew off, and picked up an earth pony instead.

“Wait! I’m sorry! I…” Grand watched the bat pony fly away. He tried to run, but fell down the moment he put any weight on the wounded leg. Without options, Grand crawled to a crater created by some inaccurate cannonball.

Another pony had the same idea. An unicorn laid in the mud, breathing through his nose and bleeding from a stump limb. The guard was young, fresh out of academy and appeared to be almost half Grand’s age.

The breathing weakened, every breath a greater labor. Even though Grand was staring at the boy in the dying breaths, Grand was unsure when the fellow guard actually died.

As he was sharing a hole with fresh corpse, Grand’s mind considered his situation, “Some damn griffon is going to find me here… Will… will they kill me? Do they eat the prisoners? No… I am sure they keep some of the prisoners alive… even if it’s just to save them for later. Wait… I am Duke Consort Grand Prix, of the noble house of Detch and married to one of the powerful ponies alive. I am part of noble society, I am valuable, I am...”

“...Part of the family whose land grab started this war.” Utter dread filled Grand’s being, “If they find me… they are not going to eat me, they are going to torture me, roast me and serve me to their dogs while I am still alive.”

Grand looked at his dirty but nobly expensive armor and then the standard issued of the corpse.

In a frenzied pace, Grand struggled with the latches keeping the armor around his barrel. Without his horn, there was no elegance, just clumsy hooves pounding against metal. His army name crest, proudly declaring his name and nobility, fell from his armor. It was swiftly buried.

As more blood ran down Grand’s legs, his mind became dazed, his throat begging for any drink, liquor or water. However, the determination for survival push Grand on. With his own armor gone, Grand used his teeth to unlatch the armor of the corpse, and then put it on himself. Grand looked upon the corpse’s crest

Twink Auro of Canterlot

No noble house
Unicorn.

Grand attaches the last piece of armor. With his hooves, Grand half buries the armor and poor soldier. Thinking becomes increasingly difficult. Grand stumbles out of the pit, dragging the bad leg, barely aware of his own yells for mercy. As unconsciousness took him, he was dimly aware of a griffon landing before him.

The final pocket of Equestrian resistance was surrounding the train the Equestrian forces had arrived on. Batponies that were not carrying their fellow ponies were erratically flying in the air above the train, distracting the Griffonian forces and preventing them from reorganizing into unified formations. Members of the engineering corp were firing crossbow bolts at any Girffonian soldier that came into range.

Panicking soldiers and terrified civillians pushed their way into the train cars. At what was once the caboose of the entire line, the two train engines whistled back to life as engineers furiously shovelled coal into the flames. A set of emergency harnesses were attached to the front of the train, room for six of abnormally strong earth ponies to assist the train to reaching full speed. Five were already

Amethyst Star shouted above the crowd, “Where is Boulder Cramp? I need all the strength talent earth ponies up here!”

Amethyst felt a tap on the back. As she turned, she found Maud was standing before the train.

“I can pull,” said Maud.

“Civilian, any pony weaker than the rest would only slow the rest down,” Amethyst Star yelled at Maud, “I do not have time-”

Maud raised her front left hoof and slammed it into the ground. It cracked deeply into the earth, creating a vibration everyone around her felt.

Maud was hurried into position and strapped to the train.

“Is everypony out?” Amethyst Star asked an assistant.

The aid scratched the back of his head, “Mostly ma’am.”

Amethyst Star grit her teeth, “Mostly?”

The aid gulp, “Many of the ponies refused to leave their homes, they didn’t seem to believe the griffons would hurt them.”

Amethyst Star closed her eyes for the moment, “... We don’t have time to get them without losing everypony else… We are leaving immediately! Everypony onto the train!”

The wheels of the train turned. Maud took one slow and deliberate step forward, feeling much of weight of the train’s inertia working against her. The ground sank beneath her. Maud not only called upon her strength, but also her magic upon the earth to give her a stronger platform to push against. Another slow step. The next step was however slightly faster than the first. Her steps became a trot, then a run, then a gallop. Maud ignored the tightness of the harness and the weight behind her, she kept moving, keeping her family’s rock farm in the front of her mind.

On the deck of the commanding airship, the four Griffonian generals looked on as the train thundered away.

“A victory for the histories!” General Easton stated with a puffed out chest, “A day for prestige shall be immortalized and we ever glorified for it! Once we capture the rest of their forces on that train...”

“Easton, the King’s rules of engagement were clear,” General Isabelle cut in, “This is a civilized war. No unnecessary butchery.”

“Well in this case it is obviously necessary,” Easton rolled his eyes, “Heyton, didn’t you estimate a third of their forces were arrayed against us on this day? We hunt down the rest and Equestria wouldn’t ever be able to stand before us ever again.”

General Heyton scratched her chin, “That is one possible from that course of action. However, that doesn’t take into account the potential forces Equestria could muster if introduced even the most basic of drafts.”

“Maybe, but we would have taken their entire eastern coast by then, so full formal surrender would surely follow,” Easton turned to General Tran, “Tran, agree with me for once, you are obligated to understand that hunting them down is the quickest way to get all the honor you want.

“Call off the pursuit,” Tran didn’t return Easton’s gaze.

Easton blinked, “Excuse me, please correct my hearing, you want to…”

Tran turned to Easton, “Call off the pursuit.”

Easton stood in stunned silence.

“Despite years of experience, you still don’t understand cowards do you?” Tran asked hypothetically.

Easton eyes narrowed at the veiled insult.

“Doesn’t matter what creature a coward is, all cowards are the same,” Tran continued, “Give them an exit, a escape, the possibility of avoiding death, they will take it. Yet, even the dirtiest of cowards will find the warrior’s will if boxed in. We stop that confounded locomotive, the cowards that run will fight with unseen ferocity for any pony, taking down many of our griffons with earning that honor. By letting them run today, we teach all the cowards of Equestria one very important lesson. If they run, we let them run.”

Author's Note

Historical Notes:

Swords, bows, and spears continued to find use on battlefields long after the adoption of firearms. For many armies in the late medieval period in Europe and through the warring states period in Japan, guns were a support weapon, often used to lay a massive amount of fire at once to disrupt a charge, or scare off calvary or less disciplined troops. Units of guns and spears were combined for a particularly effective tactic called pike and shot, where the long pikes prevented any force from getting too close to the gunners.

Most battles in history didn't end with the total death of one side, but one side losing the will too fight anymore and just running away in blind panic. Sometimes one side didn't have to be losing a battle by much, if at all, when some event sapped the armies moral and sent them packing. In the Battle of Waterloo, Napoleon had been fighting more or less evenly with the Duke of Wellington, with both sides having triumphs and losses, when he sent forth his infamously invincible Old Guard towards the British lines. However, the Old Guard was caught by surprise when they were hit by a massive barrage of musket fire. The Old Guard started to retreat. As the rest of the French army saw the legendary troops of the Old Guard falling back, they assumed the battle had been lost and ran away.

7. Caring for the Wounded

12:30 PM Fairbrittle, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

Cassandra sat alone on the ground, drumming her fingers against her spear. The air smelled of the salt of the sea rather than the smell of battle. She looked on to the battlefield. Square in the center were the cracked and broken remains of the dead. Sisters of the Order Pyres moved across the field of battle, giving the last rights to the deceased. Her stomach grumbled, but she refused its demands. Not until the rest of her comrades had returned.

A Wallace planted himself besides her, “...Hello Cassandra.”

“Sup,” Cassandra said in return, “Feel the honor flowing through your veins?”

“...Is it supposed to be?” Wallace asked, “Is it for you?”

Cassandra just shrugged.

“Hi.” Jaine dropped her arquebus to the ground and set herself down so Cassandra was between herself and Wallace.

“Good evening comrades,” Lancet said cheerfully. She pulled off her helmet as she sat down, “Hey, Wallace, do you mind doingme a favor?”

Wallace eyes flashed with surprise, “Okay… what is it?”

Lancet held out her halberd, “Do you mind carving a few notches into my spear?”

Wallace took the spear into his claw, seeing five old cuts in the otherwise fine wood.

“I just want to keep a tally of all the enemies I slay,” Lancet explained, “I wish I could do it myself, but I can’t hold a knife steady enough in my mouth or hooves.”

Wallace’s stomach churned in an uncomfortable way, but he ignored it for the sake of what he thought might actually be a friend. Reaching into his pouch he pulled out a knife. It wasn’t meant for combat, it was one of his shop knives for carving in fine bow details, but it was good enough for war.

Wallace carefully cut into the edge of wood next to one of the already existing marks, so the tip only barely broke through. Drawing down, the line created was exactly the same length as the other ones. The knife was pulled out, repositioned to cut another line, but Wallace paused.

“Hey, how many did you… ” Wallace tried to ask.

“How many Equestrians did you kill?” Cassandra asked for him.

“Thirteen,” Lancet said with a smile.

Cassandra and Wallace turned to Lancet agasp.

Lancet put her hoof to her chin, “I am quite honestly shocked as well. I wasn’t prepared for Equestria’s forces to be so ill trained and pose such a pitiful resistance, I was expecting something resembling a challenge. How many did you two acquire?”

Cassandra shrugged, “None, I was never allowed to even get into pistol range, and the brass let the Wonderbolts fly into cannon fire. Chased after some stragglers but I never caught up.”

Wallace carved more lines into the wood, “I was firing in massive volleys, not sure how many of my arrows hit anything. There was this one unicorn on the ground I hit but… I didn’t see if he… well… died from it or not.”

Jaine sulked, “Couldn’t see what I hit through all that smoke.”

Lancet mouth morphed into a half frown, “Well, you survived this day, you all shall have other chances to get an honorable battle tally.”

Jaine placed a claw on her stomach, “So… when do we eat?”

Cassandra glared at Jaine, “When Shear and my brother are here. Isn’t doing everything together the fucking point of comradeship?”

Jaine shifted awkwardly, “Well… of course… Cassandra… it is… they are taking… we…”

“I think I will have to advise against waiting on this night,” said Lancet, “I doubt we'll be seeing Shear for the rest of the evening.”

Cassandra immediately turned to Lancet, genuine worry covering her face.

“Oh, don’t be alarmed,” Lancet held out her hooves, “I saw Shear Terrace after the battle, she is in good health. However, she was in rude mood, and quite insistent she needed to talk to one of the sisters of the faith. From what I gathered, Shear won’t be joining us for awhile.”

Cassandra clicked her beak in thought.

Wallace finished his thirteenth and final cut into Lancet’s halberd. As he looked up to hand it back he saw three figures moving over to their dining mat, Darius flanked by two ganissaries. His eyes were trying and failing to hold back regret.

“Oh hey Darius.” Cassandra turned to her brother.

“Hi Cassandra,” Darius stated without his normal energy.

Cassandra reverted from her relaxed position and tensed up, “Darius, what the fuck is wrong?”

“It’s Rhosus… please I need you to come with me,”

Cassandra nodded and spread her wings, flying into the air with Darius, the rest of the comradeship were left wondering what happened to their King.

Cassandra followed her brother through the air. She caught a glimpse of the royal airship while she was flying, reduced to a wreck, burnt and broken, slowly being brought to the ground by dozens of engineers. They landed outside of the King’s Yurt.

The Yurt was surrounded by Ganissaries, with medics entering and exiting in a rush. Yet, all parted so the heir apparent and the second in line to the throne could enter.

When the tent’s flap was opened, a stench of burnt feathers wormed it’s way into her nose. In the center of the table were multiple surgeons, sisters of the faith, and wizards, working tirelessly. The Wizard Hywel was floating above it all, eyes closed and holding out his glowing staff towards King Rhosus’ head.

Cassandra could not fully make out her adoptive father, but what she could see of Rhosus was stomach wrenching. Part of his armor had been melted and twisted straight into Rhosus’ right hind leg, the wound surrounded by bandages as no one wanted to pull out the metal at this time, lest they risk him bleeding out. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle, with one of his talons burned clean off. A pair of medics gripped the arm, breathed in, and with a cringe inducing crack set the bones into the proper position before they started to set the arm into a cast.

At that point, Cassandra was no longer looking at the arm, but at Rhosus’ face. All of his feathers were gone. His right eye was open but unreactive to all the movement around it, for what once was sharp yellow globe with had been reduced to a grey sphere.

Cassandra’s eyes look up to Hywel, thinking in despair, “Please… tell me… please don’t say anything. If he fucking left us now… I can’t… oh Holy Sky, I know you don’t hear from me, but I will find out a way to turn things to shit everything for you. I don’t know how, but...”

Hywel’s expression started to shift. The edges of his beak twitched up and down, before finally morphing into the most unexpected of expressions, a smile. He opened his eyes.

“Mind intact!” Hywel said with what for a court wizard was uncontrolled glee, “Condition stabilized! Rhosus saved!”

The sense of panic and dread in the room flowed away to be replaced by immense relief. The various healers continued their work, but far more relaxed than before.

Hywel set down from his hover before Cassandra and Darius. As soon as he had nodded his head to acknowledge them, Cassandra threw herself at Hywel, wrapping her arms around the wizard. He returned the unexpected gesture.

“Thank you… oh you magnificent fuck, thank you,” Cassandra whispered into Hywel’s chest.

Hywel patted Cassandra’s back, “Father saved… however without complete recovery. Right eye forever blind, right leg forever limp. Burnt talon requires amputation, prevent future infection.”

“That’s… I can accept that,” Cassandra looked up, “Just… promise me that you weren’t bullshitting us by saying his mind was intact. It is still Rhosus in there, right?”

Her eyes with met the piercing pupils of Hywel’s, eyes that could cut into any soul. Yet, she had learned how to read his eyes, and saw no deception when he nodded, “Promise.”

A mile from the King’s Yurt, up at the foot of the great mountains just north of Fairbrittle, chaplain Sisters of the Faith were given guidance, companionship, and comfort to many of the soldiers who had come from the battle. Among the dozens of griffons seeking individual spiritual advice was a single pony, Shear Terrace.

Shear Terrace sat in a silent prayer with a sister. The sister finished her silent thoughts to the Sky. It took Shear Terrace a moment to notice the sister’s actions, and quickly folded in her wings as well.

“Daughter of the Arcane, what are your troubles?” Sister Hellvetic asked.

Shear’s hooves tensed up.

Sister Hellvetic frowned, “I wish to calm your soul, but if you refuse to let me ride your wind by holding silence…”

“I don’t want to be a Daughter of the Arcane, I do not want to be a pony,” Shear spat out, “I… I want to be with the Sky… I want to receive the Sky’s gift… I always wanted that.”

Sister Hellvetic smiled, “So you heard Mother Maria’s revelation, fighting in our of need to become a Griffon.”

“No… I mean, I was present when she said it,” Shear tried to clarify, “I was already in line, I was already going to fight. My parents got a draft for one of the house. My mother’s eyes and ears are failing her, and my father’s wings are not as strong as they used to be.”

Sister Hellvetic raised the brim of her eye, “Why did your parents get a notice? Ponies are not obligated for our realm-”

“No,” Shear shook her head, “Not the ones who birthed me, my actual parents. My parents are the griffons who had almost nothing but still took me in, the only people have shown me kindness, not the ponies who just…. threw me away…”

Shear began to smile, “When Mother Maria told revealed that fighting in this war would free us from the chains of the Arcane, that I would finally be free to pursue my own destiny, that I would become a griffon, that was the happiest moment of my life. I would finally really be the daughter to my real parents.”

The Sister shifted her position, and looked at the tightly worn padding, covering Shear’s cutie mark, “I see… you have rejected the destiny the Arcane has set for you, and are seeking a path to the Sky.”

Shear nodded, “It… is is so hard. I thought fighting would make it easier. But Sister...” Shear lowered her head, “Why do I feel so guilty?” Shear pointed her hoof at the remains of the battlefield in the distance, “Those damn ponies have done so much against our kingdom, they are blindly let themselves be slaves to what they been labelled to do in their lives… Why do I feel so much shame for what I did? I only managed to kill one of them… so why do I feel this pain?”Sister Hellvetic put her claw on Shear’s shoulder, “You are travelling down a path away from your natural essence on path to the Sky. Breaking the chains of destiny will be difficult, it is expected it will be one filled with pain, as it should be. The Sky’s grace is not given, but earned.”

1:40 PM North of Manehatten, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

The retreating train containing Equestria’s finest guards continued its thundering race away from Fairbrittle. The only sounds along the entire line was the groans of wounded, the pounding of hooves against the ground, and wheels riding against the track. A pair of pegasi engineers spread their wings and flew ahead of the train to check on a junction point. It was a simple fork in the tracks. One side turned straight South, towards Manehatten and the other coastal cities, the other led to Canterlot and Equestria center.

One of them checked the tracks, making sure the tracks were properly aligned, the other checked the junction’s lever.

“Well… everything here looks fine,” the first pegasus stated in a defeated voice.

“Same,” the second replied. They returned to an awkward silence as the train came closer and closer to the junction.

“So… which way are we sending this train again?” the first asked to break the silence.

“Excuse me?” The second asked.

“Are we headed to Manehatten or Canterlot?” The first clarified.

The second thought on it for a moment, “...Canterlot, it has to be Canterlot. That is where the entire guard was ordered to gather in… If Canterlot was left defenseless…”

The first remembered being pounced on by a changeling, being forcibly held still as those creatures encased her in green slimey podd, watching as the grandest city in Equestria was so easily taken by such vermin...

The second pegasus pulled lever on the junction line, setting course for the train straight for Canterlot.

2:38 PM Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

Two pains blared through his body. One a constant stab in his leg, the other a duller pain of an alcoholic's thirst. However, beyond the pain there was two unfamiliar sensations. The first was the feeling of his calf being strained by bandages. The second was the immaterial touch of foreign magic near his leg’s arrow wound.

Grand Prix remembered what had happened, remembered he was now in enemy claws. He kept his eyes shut and his body still. Grand Prix’s ears picked noises. Much of it was various grunts of pain, shuffling of bodies, and dozens of hushed voices. Two voices, however, were far closer than the rest.

“Wounded horn, non-threatening injury, will heal with time. Arrow puncture, three fourths of an inch deep. Is not inside bone. Popliteal artery narrowly avoided, moderate bleeding. Life still salvageable, will require minimal medical attention.”

There was the quick swish of a quill, and then the rustle of paper as it was tied to his leg.

The second voice spoke in turn, “Understood wizard. Take this one off to surgery.”

The pressure of magic left Grand. It was quickly replaced with the feeling of being hefted up onto a stretcher and carried away.

Grand risked opening an eye.

All around him were the bodies of wounded soldiers, griffons, ponies, and even a handful of hippogriffs. While Grand hadn’t bothered to learn much about Griffonian society, he did recognize the sisters of the faith working in tandem with hippogriff wizards and griffon medics to sort through the twisted piles of the dying to find out who needed medical attention first, who could heal on their own, and who was too far gone for any medicine or magic to save.

Grand was taken into a newly constructed tent and dumped onto a surgery table. He hand to bite his lip not to curse against his mistreatment.

A new pair of gloved claws unwrapped Grand’s diagnosis.

“You should praise your Sun Shepard, sir… Twink Auro,” A female voice chimed from behind him, “If the arrow had gone in even slightly to the left, you would’ve bled out by now.”

Grand remained still, closing his eyes. A claw lightly tapped his back.

“I know you are awake,” The voice stated, “If you do not give me permission to remove the arrow now, your calf will get infected and I will have to amputate.”

“Yes!” Grand spouted out, turning his head to face the speaker. He met the eyes of a female griffon in a medical mask that had a red pair of wings printed upon it, “Please!”

“Alright,” The medic started to unwrap the bandages around the arrow, “This will require that you remain absolutely still. You can bite on this.”

“You’re… you’re not putting me to sleep?” Grand sputtered, “I refuse to be awake for this procedure! I can’t handle that kind of pain! I demand to be put to sleep”

“The handful of wizards we have capable of maintaining slumber through surgery are all busy either in triage or dealing with far more serious injuries. Pulling this out will hurt, but not enough to kill you.” The griffon pulled off the last of the blood stained bandages had been pulled off.

“Wait, please!” Grand begged, “I can pay… my family…I have the right to proper medicaAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The griffon held the wound closed as she stitched it shut, “Was that so bad?”

Grand whimpered in pain.

“...How in all of the Sky’s will did you ever get into the army?”

3:14 PM Manehatten, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

The half broken dreams and incomprehensible noises came to an end. The world was nothing but darkness, a dull pain, a heavy thirst, and the feeling of being wrapped by a blanket.

Fleur Dis Lee opened her left eye.

Something was holding her right eye closed, but she didn’t find that very important right now. The most important thing in the world to her was just the need was water, and as luck would have it, she found herself staring directly at a filled glass. She reached out to it with her magic.

The glass didn’t budge.

Once again Fleur reached out with her magic.

Her magical aura didn’t even appear around the glass. Fleur looked up at her horn, and saw a black inhibitor ring, preventing her from using spells.

Her last memory, the explosion, jolted back into her mind.

Fleur, fearing she had been captured and taken away, she tried to get the ring off. Her right foreleg was being restrained with something, but her left one was free. Fleur felt renewed pain in her leg, but she didn’t care. She needed to get away, she needed to find Fancy Pants…

Somepony jumped on top of her, trying to restrain her arm away from her horn.

“Laisse moi partir!” Fleur screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Fleur, you are at a hospital!” the pony screamed back, “Please calm down!”

Fleur stopped struggling and took inventory of her surrounding. The white walls, curtains, and various pieces of medical equipment covering the walls confirmed the pony’s statement. She finally met eyes with the doctor who was restraining her arm.

“Je m'excuse… ahem, I am sorry,” Fleur said, lowering her hoof, “Why is that ring upon my horn?”

“Your horn took extensive damage.” The doctor magically held up a mirror. Fleur finally saw all the scratches, cuts, and burn spots covering her horn. The majority of the right side of her face was encased in bandages while the left only had a few cuts and patches of burnt fur, “It is far to dangerous for you to use any form of magic in your state. Fleur, do you remember what happened?”

“...I remember… an explosion…” Fleur’s pupils shrunk into her skull, “FANCY! Where is my Fancy?”

The doctor stood up and moved to a curtained off bed. The doctor’s medic grip pulled the curtain away, revealing a male unicorn covered in bandages and casts. His horn was broken split in half, and one of his hind legs was mangled into a broken angle. The unbandaged portion of his face was barely recognizable.

“No…” Fleur said in a desperation, “That can’t be him…”

The doctor nodded, “It is Fancy… He is alive but…” The doctor breathed in and pointed to a dark wound on Fancy Pant’s head, “Part of the shrapnel pierced his skull… into his brain. From we can tell, the damage wasn’t as severe as it could’ve been, but we can’t risk probing into his mind with magic with the shrapnel still inside and his horn in such a state. We will only know the full effects if… when he wakes up. Fleur, I know this is hard, but there are some things we need to discuss-”

The doctor looked on as the tears started to flow down Fleur’s face.

“...Later,” The doctor walked to the door, “Please just hold onto your hope. We will do everything we can for him.”

4:23 PM Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

Luna laid on a balcony, surrounded by quills and dry ink wells, dark crescents underlined her eyes. The servants had stop coming by after she had literally thrown the last servant out who had tried to tried to get her to eat something.

A stack of messages sat in the corner. Parents asking why their sons in the guard had left Canterlot, nobles demanding answers about what the crown knew about the situation, guards from across Equestria coming to the capital and asking for their next orders.

Most were addressed to Celestia, only a few had the tact to at least address it to Celestia and Luna.

Within Luna’s mind, her frustration fought fatigue, her denial dueled dejection, and her betrayal battled blight. All other feelings were eclipsed by an anger that had kept building throughout the day.

Luna held up one of the dozens of letter she had attempted to pen in her usual classical prose, but her attempts had faltered in her current emotional state. Luna’s horn lit alight with her magic, calling once again upon the ancient magic taught to her by Dragonlord Grammex the Spiked Tongued a millennia ago, engulfing the paper in green flame. The paper was suppose to vanish, appear in but an instance in front of her Celestia muzzle.

However, when the flames evaporated, the paper was still held out in her hooves.

“Tia… are you so unwilling to trust me that you will no longer even accept my letters?” Luna raged in her mind, “Maybe there is wisdom in your deceit, for I will not be able to trust what I will do when I lay my eyes upon you.”

A brief shine caught Luna’s eyes. A white object that shimmered gold, rounded mount Canterlot. As Luna focused in, she realized it was actually multiple objects, multiple ponies, carrying a large and white alicorn.

Luna jumped from the balcony, spreading her wings, and pounded against the air to accelerate as quickly as she could. In seconds, she was upon the exhausted guards carrying the unmoving form of Celestia.

Celestia’s mane wasn’t an ethereal rainbow, but the pink Celestia had a thousand years before as a filly. Her horn was intact, but blackened where the axe had struck and all of Celestia’s magic had violently resonated, melted steel clung to a small cut in the horn.

The only clue that Celestia was alive was her labored breathing and the small rise and fall of her chest.

Luna grabbed her sister and the guards in a blue aura. As quickly as Luna had flew out to meet them, she pulled everypony just as quickly back to the castle, flying through the halls, only to come to a very violent halt in front of the castle’s infirmary.

Luna blasted the doors off their hinges. Before any of the doctors could even comprehend what just happened, Luna placed Celestia in a bed.

Calling upon the Royal Canterlot Voice, Luna shouted, “BRING US EVERY SINGLE HEALER WORTHY OF THEIR CRAFT.”

Luna dark blue aura brightened around Celestia, probing for additional damage and wounds. However, except from some minor cuts and bruises, the only damage Celestia had suffered was to her horn.

Yet what a wound that was. The axe blow had not only cut into the complex web of nerves and arcane passages within the horn, but into the very core of the horn itself. Whatever magic Celestia’s body produced was immediately drained away, leaking out of her horn. Celestia wasn’t just no longer able to cast spells, but also unable to gather the magic required for flight or the passive earth magic boosting her strength.

Luna’s scans did however provide some hope. Celestia’s body had already realized the damage, already calling upon natural resources to undo the wound and rebuild what had been lost. Yet, for a cut so deep, Luna was left unsure. She remembered many unicorns, back in the far more turbulent times of a thousand years prior, who suffered similar fates from many battlefields. Some would come to wield their magics just as well as they had before. Others could only cast the poorest of shadows of even the most basic spells. However, even they were better off than those who ability to use any magic never returned at all.

Doctors and nurses flooded in. Lune relieved her magical hold on Celestia, but still stood at her sister’s side, as nopony was brave enough to ask Luna to move. After long minutes of convincing herself that Celestia breathing wouldn’t stop of she moved, Luna trotted over to the guards that had held Celestia aloft for so long.

Most of the guards were either being checked by nurses, who were particularly concerned with the condition of their currently unseeing eyes. Yet, one remained standing, waiting to report to Princess Luna.

Princess Luna stood before the guard, “What happened?”

The guard recounted the battle, Celestia’s dual, and what had happened after she had been struck...

...Princess Celestia’s limp form was plumuniting through the air. Half of us were attempting to blink away blindness as they followed the sound of their fellow guards. The ones lucky enough to have been looking away or managed to cover their eyes before the clash of metal against horn cause such a violent burst of sunlight.

Thankfully, Celestia’s limp form twisted and bent, slowing her descent enough that even her half sightless protectors were able to catch her.

The blinded of us caressed Celestia’s wounded form, while those of us who retained our sight led them by hoof on an ascent up as high as they could fly away from the battlefield. We would all lay down our lives before we let Celestia fall into enemy claws.

Some Griffonian soldiers, members of the swift youth brigade, flew up in pursuit. An immediate plan of action was divised. The blinded carrying Celestia would be led by the one with the clearest sight, the rest of us would turn and hold of the pursuers.

Accepting death as our brothers in arms flew off, I was among the five prepared for the fight of our live, to die in the name of the sun itself.

Yet, our deaths never came. A female griffon dressed in lighter armor with a distinct buckler, possible even one of the Griffonian generals, shouted for the pursuers to stop.

Words unheard by us were exchanged between the pursuers and the female commander, until all the youths flew off to fly after other targets.
Fearing some form of ambush upon Celestia herself, the guards who had expecting to die flew back after Celestia.
The scene of battle passed, and no such ambush came. Eyesight returned for some of the guards, and no such ambush came. Their wings ached from such a long high altitude flight, and no such ambush came. Finally we found ourselves back in Canterlot...

“...Retelling this tale to you, Princess Luna,” the guard finished.

“They nearly killed Celestia, and then just let you all go?” Luna stated in utter disbelief.

The guard nodded.

Luna looked over to Celestia once more.

“Equestria shall forever be in your debt for your service.” Luna bowed her head, “Thank you.”

The guard held his chin up and nodded again.

Luna walked out of the infirmary, mind a race with question after question. She looked out a window, up at the sun.

A sun that was on a descent for the horizon.

A sun Celestia wasn’t there to set.

A sun that, for the first time in forever, would have to be moved by Luna.

All the frustration, annoyance, and anger crushing in Luna’s soul was replaced by a slowly dawning feeling of dread.

Author's Note

Historical Notes:

Yurts are round tent structures that have been used by the people of the Asian steppes for thousands of years. From the Scythians who looted Greece to the Mongol hordes who conquered the world, they all used some variation on this easy to set up, easy to transport mobile home.

Army Chaplains, priests officially or unofficially tied to an army unit, have been a vital part of many world armies. Even without providing logistical support or holding arms, chaplains the world over have provided and continue to provide spiritual support and moral for soldiers.

3. Peaceful Discourse

9:40 PM, Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 39th day of Fall.

Forgive me Darius.

The royal court of the Muhtesem. The largest and most vicious room in the entire castle, it was the heart of North Griffonia’s government. In the pews sit the Pride of Griffonia, the legislators of the nation. The 37 provinces of the nation each have two representatives sitting in the Pride, a secular Elder, and a faithful sister. From the sprawling cities to the tribal lands of the east, all who fall under the royal wings gets some voice. Even the five reclusive orders of griffon magic guilds had wizards present in the pews. However, the representatives only made up a third of the Pride. The rest of the seats are taken up by members of the Great Clans. Formally, this was exclusively griffon noble families who had in theory proven their worth but in practice got powerful enough so the others could no longer deny them.

However, bankers, industrialists, airship manufacturers, even the United Equestria-Griffonia Railroad company, have a seat in the pews. Some proved their products vital nature for the country to the crown and were granted seats. Others proved that money can buy better loyalty than oaths of blood.

In front of the Pride were the royal Ironclaws. King Rhosus sat in his throne while, Princess Norah, Prince-consort Richard, and Prince Darius sat in their seats next to his. Alexander was standing next to Rhosus, holding the king’s hand for comfort, while Cassandra stood by, with an arm and a ring around Alex’s shoulder.

The Crown and the Pride were always at each other's throats in often disturbingly literal ways, but if they had common ground, they were capable of great horror and great honor.

Between the claws of the Crown and the jaws of the Pride sat the Equestrian Ambassador, Astera Nocturna.

King Rhosus patted Alexander’s hand then stood. He held the scroll in his hand, and began to read, “Rhosus II of clan Ironclaw, lord of the open expanse, Maria IV, Mother to the faithful, and all the gathered great clans, I, governor Louis of clan Bronzebark, give you news of treachery on this day of Mercy. As the feast began, a time of jubilance and joy, the townsfolk noticed a cloud from the horizon. It was no smoke or steam, but our fellow griffons, fleeing from the west, exhausted, hungry, and distraught. As my city welcomed them in, finding them food and logging, I expected to hear many things. A raid by the Yaks, a foolish attack by Griffonstone, I even considered the return of the perpetual snow, but I never considered what all of them told me, they were invaded by Equestria. House Prix and a small force drove into the town, and demanded our people leave on the basis of false claims. On any other day, this tiny force would’ve been slaughtered to the last for such an action, but on our happiest of days, they couldn’t fight. So, with heavy hearts, each and every one of our people left their new homes and new lives. My King and my Pride, I beg of you to act.”

King Rhosus looked up from the scroll. The Pride was in an uproar of confusion and anger. No voice was louder than that of the Sisters, who were calling for a Day of Reckoning for this injustice.

Rhosus silently looked down at Astera. It was a cold look, a hard, frozen look, threatened to boil over into unrelenting rage. Cassandra shared that burning expression, Alex stood their in confusion, even Norah clearly was peeved. Darius looked sad and disappointed.

“Forgive me Darius,” Astera thought as he readied to walk the razor’s edge, “It has not, nor has it ever been Equestria’s goal to conquer any land, particularly in such manner. However, Avidity of House Prix, who had once willing surrendered that land to keep the peace, commands the highest position in the Noble’s legislative body, who holds veto rights over any treaty.”

“So they vetoed a treaty over a decade after it was signed and enforced?” Rhosus yelled, “Princess Celestia gave me her oath, and I held it.”

The Pride went up in a new frenzy of noise.

“Oath filth!”

“Blood for lies!”

“Let the Sky be their judge!”

Rhosus allowed the Pride’s screeching to continue, while he stood in quiet, glaring down at the ambassador. Finally, the King raised a claw, and the Pride was silent.

“They nobles have a lot of authority over Princess Celestia,” Astera clarified, “She wouldn’t break the oath. However, the Seats of Nobility could force Celestia’s hoof. I assure you, Celestia had nothing to do with this.”

Rhosus’ frown deeped. “If Celestia truly was innocent, then why didn’t she contact me? Why did I have to hear of this invasion from my fleeing civilians?”

“... I don’t know.”

Rhosus sat back down, crossing his claws.

A Sister of the faith stood up from her seat in the Pride. “My liege, with the gift of the Sky, you must make the choice, and make Equestria pay this treachery by Iron, Claw, and Gore!”

The old griffon general, Tran of clan Goldenbark, stood up, and yelled, “Iron! Claw! Gore!” The chant was repeated, first by those around the, then by the noble clans, then by every single member. From the oldest Speaker, to the youngest Pony, all members of the Pride chanted with a single, deafening voice that was heard far beyond the confines of the castle’s halls.

One small voice stood against the Pride.

“Father.”

Rhosus, turned away from the Pride, and looked at the source of that voice, Norah. Her lips said nothing, but her pleading but determined face said volumes. Rhosus held up a claw, to finally silence the chant.

Norah sat tall. “We cannot throw away centuries of peace with our long ally so hastily. The Seats of nobility are always fighting, always decided by the voices of a few. I will go to Equestria and change their minds before we all drown in our gore.”

Tran shouted again, “My liege, while our future Queen has mastered the art of speech, this is not the time for compromise and kind words. We have all read the Irade, those ponies are being pulled by the bounds of the Earth, Equestria have already made their mistake.”

The two pony Pride members gave Tran dirty looks, but for the rest their was a murmur of agreement.

Norah shook her head. “Walk with a great blade and a kind word. Mercy shall be offered, but Retribution shall always be your friend.”

General Tran rested his hand on his sword. “Our once and future Queen, if you are so craven to not meet force with force-”

“Enough!”

Everyone shifted their focus to the King. “I have taken your accounts into consideration, and have made my decision. Hywel, bring me paper and the dragon dust.”

Hywel nodded and left the room. After a minute of silence and subdued murmurs, he returned with two wizard adepts, carrying a vat filled with the green dragon dust. A grounded up dragon’s ignis organo, the magical source of dragon’s flame, dragon dust allows for near instant communication across nations from one magical being to another. However, due to the rarity of finding a dragon’s corpse, and the suicidal nature of trying to hunt a dragon, the dust was obscenely expensive. The dragon dust the adepts carried costed as much as the Muhtesem itself.

Rhosus took the paper, pulled off one his own feathers for the quill, and started to write. He placed a seal, an image of an claw clenched into a fist, and handed it the letter to Hywel. “I’m sorry to ask for this.”

Hywel shook his head, “ Duty and honor, Rhosus. Don't apologize.” Hywel took a pinch of the dragon dust, and put it into his mouth. One of the adapts handed Hywel a torch. Hywel threw the parchment into the air, and blew a plume of green flame, engulfing the letter and sending it off to Equestria.

Rhosus stood up from his seat. “Representatives of the provinces, sisters of the faith, nobles, merchants, I, King Rhosus, ask all of you, once this day of mercy ends when the sunrises, to begin mobilization.”

The Pride was utterly ecstatic. They would finally have a chance to crush their weak neighbor, and gain favor before their King and gain a place among their God. Astera looked down, heartbroken and distraught. The long peace he had worked so hard to maintain ruined in a day.

“However,” Rhosus yelled before the Pride went out of control, “As of right now, North Griffonia has not declared war.”

In an instant, the Pride’s jubilation was replaced with all consuming rage.

Meanwhile in Canterlot…

The Royal Equestria Library of the Diarchy hadn’t seen use by the royal sisters in years. Even when Luna returned, neither Princess had much free time to sit down and read. If the Princesses needed facts, somepony in the extensive royal staff would be sent to find it. If the Princesses wanted fiction, they would strike up a conversation with the nobility.

However, Celestia and her entire staff were sitting through the library, and tearing through every book on law the library had. After a millenia, Equestria’s three separate legal codes had become a quagmire of confusion, contradiction, and corruption. Celestia turned the page onto the last decision made by the noble judiciary, where Judge Lawstand ruled against a Duke Demare for corruption, the last time a judge ever was able to rule against the nobility. Celestia put the book down, and picked up another book, discussing the first convict made by the collective vote of the Seats of Nobility.

Celestia remembered that day, watching Baron Riverdale crying on the floor of the High Seats. She had been unlucky enough to be scapegoat for the resurgent Duke Demare, charged with conspiracy to bribe the Seat’s vote “For personal gain at the expense of the realm”, even though Riverdale had been the only one charged, and no co-conspirators had been named. Riverdale had failed at the game all the nobles played, and had let herself get caught.

Celestia started to turn to the next case, but paused. For personal gain at the expense of the realm. It would require only evidence of bribery, and the Crown would have the implied threat to the rest of the nobles to force them comply.

At that moment, Celestia noticed all her staff had stopped yawning, searching for more coffee, or looking at their tomes. They were all looking past Celestia, at the source of footsteps that got louder with every passing breath. She didn’t need to hear the slightly metallic click of the hooves or feel the massive magical presence to know that Luna had arrived.

The princess of the night face was twisted into an expression of frustration, confusion, and subdued wroth.

“Luna, I know th-”

“We wish to know why you let yourself be trampled today in such a humiliating manner, sister.”

Celestia’s staff was shaken out of their daze and wisely decided to leave Luna’s blast zone.

“One thousand years ago we stood against the God of Chaos. Then you... you were even willing to face us down.”

Celestia reached out to her sister, “Luna, Nightmare Moon wasn’t you…”

“Regardless, today you let yourself be publicly been insulted and bullied. Why?”

“Luna, things have changed,” Celestia said in her motherly voice, “Everypony, myself included, is bound by the law. I will solve this dispute peacefully through the law-.”

The smell of dragon breath and a flash of green fire appeared between the sisters. A scroll floated between them. After two years of receiving friendship reports, Celestia instinctively grabbed the scroll from out of the air. She saw the seal. A claw clenched in from a fist.

“Celestia, I will skip the formalities and get to the reality of our realms. We swore an oath to bring stability to my nation in a time where it could have easily fallen into chaos. Concessions were made, land changed hands, and I took care of your little ponies that went with the deal. I had always looked up to you as mentor, a friend, even in a way, a mother.
It is a heavy heart that I have to wonder why in the Sky’s name did you allow one of your nobles to rip up my trust in you as claw a goes through a web. As a decade ago the griffons are calling for blood. If you do not forcibly resolve this power dispute, or if my Norah does not end the problem for you, I will be unable to restrain the desires of my people any further. We will know nothing but war.

Norah will be in Equestria within three days, take care of her.
-Rhosus.”

“Lu, I will resolve this crisis. Avidity will receive her proper justice, and everything will again be in it’s proper place,” Celestia turned away from Luna and returned to the book. She had lost control, her subjects had fled in fear.

Luna opened her mouth to retort book looked around at the now empty room. The Princess of the night walked out of the library onto a balcony and into the night sky. A steady beat of her wings, Luna flew out of Canterlot and onto the top of the mountain. From here Luna could see the forests of her failure.

To the south was a cursed forest, born from her arrogance and hate from a thousand years before. In her eyes, the trees melted away. It was replaced by wheat fields, peach trees, and peasants gladly sharing the common land. The light of the Drunkard Bard shown brightly. The laughter of the Jest’s festivals rang through her ears. Destroyed, ruined, covered in trees, roots, and abominations unfit to live in this kingdom.

“We cannot follow Celestia’s plans, but she was always the oldest,” Luna said to herself, crushing the doubt in her soul, “We must follow her lead.”

Luna turned to a stone tower, barely visible through the trees. While she had weakened the doubt, it was not entirely eliminated, and brought forth a new question in the Night’s mind.

Luna look down at Canterlot, “Why did Celestia make our castle here? We lived among the commons to escape the machinations of the nobility. Why...”

She shook her head. This wasn’t working. As much as it pained her to do it, Luna wrenched her neck around and looked north.

At the edge of the horizon was the other forest born out of Luna’s fall, Hollow Shades. A thousand years before, she had blessed the few pegasus guard who had appreciated her night. They had been loyal, even in rebellion against the Princess of the Sun. This blessing had made her loyal guards hated by the ponies who loved the sun, and confined them to those trees.

Drips of water rolled from Luna’s eyes. The doubts were gone. Once again Luna took flight.

8:20 AM, Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 40th day of Fall

“Ma’am, you need to wake up.”

Maud blinked awake, shivering from a cold that no longer felt so real, from a dream that felt so real, yet already was faded. She was staring straight into the yellow eyes of a orange furred, teal maned earth pony.

“You been out for a long time, I need to ask you questions to see if there has been any cranial trauma. Can you understand what I am saying?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What is 5 plus 7?”

“12.”

“Who are you?”

“Maud Pie.”

“Name one member of your family.”

“Pinkie Pie.”

“Do you know what town we are in?”

“Fairbrittle.”

The earth pony’s body lost all its tension as he sighed in relief. Maud turned her head and looked around. Earth ponies and pegasi with their wings bound in ropes were crammed into a pit, the beginning of the main mining pit, with guards walking around the edges. Maud looked down at the ground. An unearthed metamorphic gneiss rock sat neatly between Maud’s legs.

“I’m Clinic Care, I wish I could treat your arcane scorch wound, but I am just an earth pony, and they wouldn’t send for Doctor Omaha after… Maud, are you listening?”

Maud looked up from her rock, barely notcing the Clinic’s stethoscope cutie mark. Her mind finally registed the dull pain arching along the back of her neck. She reached out and felt her neck with a hoof.

Maud’s neutral exrpession shifted into a frown.

“I’m just an earth pony nurse, I wish I had a horn that could take away your pain and help the hair regrow.”

“It’s fine,” Maud stated flatly, “This is going to make Pinkie sad, so I am sad.”

2:30 PM, Outside of Twistspire, North Griffonia, 1003 y.a.b., 40th day of Fall.

“Sky, why did you curse me to be different?”

Beyond the city limits of the capital stood the countryside. A few plots of land immediately outside of the capital were noble owned ranches and farms, but the rest were a combination of recreational lands and military staging areas. The same playgrounds that taught young fliers how to use their wings could be converted in the blink of an eye into grueling training grounds for recruits if the need ever arrived.

Several archery fields dotted the area. The art of the bow and arrow was an ancient one in Griffonia, from the days when clans flew above the steppes. Some of the target ranges were the properties of nobles, catering only to the noblest of blood or the largest of purses. The rest were family operations, such as one owned by the griffon Ayla and her hippogriff husband, Wallace.

Hippogriffs were the rare hybrids formed by the union of a griffon and pony. It was said that, when that cursed union was made, the Sky just threw dice and set the abomination onto the world. They come in uncountable varieties, from a pony with a beak, to a griffon with cloven hooves. Wallace was heavily griffon dominate, from his neck down he looked like any other griffon. Unfortunately for Wallace, from the neck up, his head, main, and face were all of that of a pony.

Normally, Wallace would in the shop, carving board of yew and oak into new bows or forging arrowheads. However, Ayla was in the city seeing a healer about her wings. She suggest closing down for the day, but Wallace said the blunt truth, telling her they couldn’t afford to close up shop for a day with winter coming. He also lied, telling her not to worry, and that he could handle running the counter.

News spread faster than the wind. Everyone knew about the mobilization, and that any household could be chosen in the draft. Archers that hadn’t fired a bow in months were came to cram in practice, to be ready if they are targeted by the call. All day, Wallace saw the customers glancing his direction when they thought he wasn’t looking. Regulars who would normally shoot for hours left after a few minutes. When a griffon with a snow white head bought a bundle of arrows, she stood in front of Wallace for several seconds, staring dumbly at the arrowheads, before just grabbing them out of his hands without a word. A knot formed in Wallace’s chest. The sides of his head throbbed.

“Sky, why did you curse me to be different?”

He glanced at a sundial. Over two hours until closing, “Ayla needs me… I can do this. She will probably be back before then. I can do this. I can do this.”

The bell above the front door range. Wallace turned to the door. A griffon, bow in hand was standing there, bow in hand, just staring at Wallace, before closing the door and walking away. In that moment, Wallace felt many things. His heart dropping. The knot in the chest tightened into a strangling grip. The pain of two knives being jabbed into his head. Most importantly, shame.

“Last salvo! Last salvo!”

The archers exchanged looks of confusion, but fired off their remaining arrows in quick succession, and lined up to the counter, returning rented out bows and thumb rings. Most of them were quiet, handing back their rented equipment and walking out the door. Soon, there was only one large griffon male left.

“Freak!” The griffon yelled as he slammed the bow onto the counter, Wallace flinched at the obscenity, “Your fucking bow doesn’t shoot straight, you’re ripping me off! You are going to give me my fucking money back you worthless half-breed!”

Wallace felt small. A voice in the back of his head just told him to give the griffon his money and hide under the counter till this is all over. It would be so much easier.

The bow on the counter was composite of oak and horn, pull weight of fifty pounds. There was some wear on the riser, but the arms were still strong, and the string had been replaced. That bow was Wallace’s work. That bow was Ayla’s work. This range was their life.

All the skill necessary to craft that instrument is what he had mastered in praise of the Sky. A rare strength seeped through Wallace’s body. He grabbed the bow, slipped on his thumb ring, and nabbed an arrow.

Before the griffon could even process what was happening, Wallace turned to the nearest target, fifty-six feet away. The arrow was nocked to the string, Wallace’s thumb resting under it. He raised the bow to a slight angle, pulled the string back, and released.

With a thunk, the arrow landed within the second circle of the target. Wallace turned to the griffon. The griffon huffed out in silence, slamming the door so hard that the bell fell off.

Clawed fingers picked up the tiny bell. Another screw up. The field was covered in arrows, he hadn’t made the customers clean up after themselves. Another screw up. After flying around the field, Wallace took inventory. Two of the rented bows were unaccounted for. Wallace had let someone just walk out the door with them. Another screw up.

Wallace looked into a mirror. A pony’s face, with a light red mane, a very light yellow fur, and green eyes, with a small red scarf around the neck, stared back.

“Worthless half breed… that it isn’t it?” Wallace said looking up, bell in hand, “The ones born into weakness so others may know true strength? Worthless…”

“No,” Said a stern feminine voice.

The hippogriff turned to the griffon standing in the door frame, his wife Ayla.

“Wallace,” she said, walking over to her husband, “Please, stop doing this to yourself.”

“But-”

Ayla put her claws on his, “You are not worthless. You are not a curse upon the world. You are not bringing me down.”

She pulled him into an embrace, “You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I can’t even-”

“It doesn’t matter..”

He held up the bell and the missing inventory sheet, “It’s alright, we will deal with that later.”

She walked him away from the range, and to the nearby workshop. Like the range, it wasn’t a fully enclosed building, just two walls covered in their product and tools. Nearly mechanically, Wallace sat on a bench, and looked over the order. Sixty pounds of draw weight longbow. He took a limb scraper, and put the board on a bench. As he carved, the knot in his chest loosened. The pain in his melted away.

Once Wallace was done carving out the shape, he turned to Ayla. She was rubbing wax and oil onto finished bows to seal the wood, “Ayla, I’m… what happened with the healers?”

Ayla smiled. “The bone growth is reversing itself. The healer said I will be able to fly again in two years.”

Wallace put down the tool and literally flew to his wife to lift her into a hug. She had developed wing ossification, a rare disease of excessive and destructive bone growth. Only magic was capable of reversing the effects. Treatments had a seemingly random chance of slowing and eventually curing the affliction entirely.

She started to nuzzle into his neck. His smile grew wild, he knew what that meant. Their claws started to roam each other’s bodies. They could hear nothing but each other’s breathing.

And the sound of a bag filled with paper falling to the ground.

Wallace and Ayla looked at the male griffon looking around one of the walls holding up a letter, petrified with shock and disgust.

Ayla looked at Wallace, the smile gone, the mood ruined. Her white feathers grew red. Not in embarrassment, but in rage. She grabbed the scraper, and marched straight into the mailgriffon’s face.

The griffon backed away, “Umm… ma’am, I’m sorry… I… PLEASE!” He hid behind the letter like it was made of steel. On the letter there was a simple stamp, the iron fist of the monarchy.

The knife fell to the ground. The shaking mail griffon felt the letter being snatched from his claw. The letter was addressed to the residency of the Hunter’s Mark, their range and their home. On the other side of the envelope was two words.

Draft Notice.

The mail griffon quickly scribbled something on a notepad and jumped into the air. Wallace walked over, and place two stools for them to sit on. Ayla cut open the envelope, revealing the form letter that had been contained inside.

To the homestead of Ayla of clan Rusttip, and Wallace,
“Your household has been chosen to provide 1 soldier to the grand army of North Griffonia. On the 43rd Day of Fall, the designated number from your household must come to Twisted Marshal Grounds to present arms in the name of King Rhosus’ Call to Arms for medical and martial examination. If you have a martial mastery, you will be tested to prove your skills are adequate for the tasked you are assigned. If you do not have a martial mastery, or fail to prove your mastery, you will be set among the basic infantry to earn your practice on the battlefield...”

Wallace skimmed through the rest of the notice, knowing the medical exemption wouldn’t apply, and already knowing the unpayable price of desertion. Wallace rubbed a talon down Ayla’s stiff wing.

Ayla put an arm around Wallace’s shoulder, “Wall, please do not worry. Once the crown has waggled its sabers at Equestria, we won’t actually be going to war.”

He looked at the ground, “I can’t even handle some simple stares, how will I…”

A claw gripped his face and forced him to look at his wife, “Wallace, you will just need to be strong one day, do you hear me? You will go for the call, outshoot every griffon there, and come home.”

Wallace opened his mouth. Ayla put a talon to his lips, “No, there will not be a war.”

Meanwhile in Canterlot…

“There is going to be a war?” Blueblood managed to blabber out.

His great (to the 124th power) aunt Celestia’s voice answered, “If we do not act, it will be inevitable. If I am going to save my subjects from this fate, I will need your help.”

A scowl crossed Blueblood face, “She wants my help after all she has done to me? Taken away most of my allowance, forced me to go on her field trips to ‘learn manners.’ All because some commoner didn’t know he place. No, I am not going to let her just push me around without something in return.”

A defiant smile crossed Blueblood’s face, and he opened his mouth to retort. However,in that moment, a fly flew between them. A bug. A dark, green eyed bug.

Memories of the attack on Canterlot filled Blueblood’s mind. His guards turning tail to run as the changelings pinned him down. The foul stench of their carapace. The taste of that horrific slime as he was entombed by those insects. The feeling of his happiness wretched away, leaving nothing but guilt and self pity.

“What can I do?”

“Have you heard anything about Duchess Avidity Prix?” Celestia stated in a far more stern voice than he was used to.

Blueblood sat and thought, “Well… no. The only thing anypony seems to be talking about is the great days they’re looking forward to.”

“Why are they looking forward to better days?” Celestia insisted, “How are things getting better?”

“I never asked,” Blueblood stated.

His aunt gave a deep sigh, “I see.”

“Is there anything else you need of me Auntie?”

“...In fact, there is my, darling nephew.”

5:30 PM, Manehatten, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 42nd day of Fall.
“Welcome to Equestria.”

The salty wind blew in from the sea, the taste of foul fish stinging his tongue. The only respite this gave was that it masked the soot and ash from the factories.

“I hate this city,” Blueblood thought miserably while he stood at the harbor watching as a passenger ship was slowly tugged into place.

An something hard hit Blueblood’s side. He looked to his companions for this ‘vital’ diplomatic greeting, Fancy Pants and his gorgeous wife. Fancy Pant’s wore his warm smile

Fluer was always the model noble consort in Blueblood’s eyes. A beautiful and silent piece of furniture, never fussing, never complaining, never even paying attention what goes around her, always bowing to the wisdom of the one of higher blood. He never understood why his late mother hadn’t just allowed him to go pick out some Prench actress or dancer, and made him marry someone of at least equal noble rank in patrilineal marriage.

This ship finally was tied up to the harbor. A group of heavily armored griffons walked down the causeway, followed by two ponies in the regalia of ambassadors.

Fleur and Fancy Pants bowed their heads, followed by Blueblood a full second later. Fancy lifted his head and extended his hoof. “Norah, Richard, on behalf of the Seats of Nobility, I welcome Clan Ironclaw to Equestria.”

A long pause filled the group until Blueblood remembered he had lines. “O… on behalf of the crown Princesses of Equestria, I welcome you to the realm, and apologize that neither could greet you in person.”

Norah quickly took Blueblood’s hoof into her claw, “Prince Blueblood, it is an honor to finally see the face of a pony who has committed such legendary actions.”

Blueblood smiled and held a hoof to his face, “Oh, well, I always act in accordance to my noble privilege.”

Norah smile grew, “Oh, I can see that.”

Fleur leaned over her husband and watched the exchange or formalities. Richard held out his claw, “Fleur, it is wonderful to see you again.”

Fleur’s smile grew, “Likewise. Je suis désolé pour le fou. Il sera assis à une table différente”

Richard’s statue shrank slightly at the wonderful news, “Merci le Ciel.”

Surrounded by Equestrian guards, and the griffon Ganissaries, they made their way to a fancy Prench restaurant, La Fantaisie. Fleur looked around at the crowds. A pony in the alley way moved forward towards the group, but her bravery died out, and she moved back into the alley.

She shook her head. She had expected one of Avidity’s spies to be on their tail, but wasn’t expecting them to be this obvious.

At La Fantaisie, tables had been cleared away, leaving a setting with four stools in the middle of the room. The Ganissars surrounded the table, forming a perimeter to protect the heir apparent. Blueblood confidently strolled over, and tried to plant his flank on one of the stools. A field of blue magic surrounded the stool and yanked it away.

“I am sorry Blueblood,” Fancy Pants stated with a voice elated in enjoyment, “But I need to personally discuss the strategy for securing a proper vote in the Seats.Please, accept my condolences, I have reserved a table personally for you.”

Before Blueblood could object, his own guards all but pushed the prince to another table. Fluer looked around. Everything was set up according to Fancy’s and Fluer’s designs. They needed to be seen in public to show to that Norah wasn’t conducting secret meetings with Fancy just to prove none of them had anything to hide. However, everyone in the room except the guards were kept out of earshot, with a few enchants designed to stop attempts to listen to their conversation.

The party took their seats with relief. It was a rare opportunity to be in public without the masks. Even if none of them expected to enjoy the conversation that was to come. Norah broke the silence, “Who were the tie breakers and how many will I have to threaten or bribe to reverse their vote to give you the majority?”

Fancy took a deep breath and looked down in shame.

“Quand allez-vous cesser de vous blâmer et de blâmer seulement la chienne?” Fluer put a hoof on her husband’s side. “You’re looking at the only noble who voted against Avidity’s insanity.”

Norah’s calm look was erased from her face, replaced with nothing but shock. Richard blinked a few times, mind processing the implications. “How? I thought the votes in your Seats were always just managed by the barest of margins. What could she possibly offer to get that kind of turnout?”

Understanding crossed Norah’s face. “It’s the black gold of Fairbanks. She offered part of the massive riches in that land. Maintaining the picture of elegance has been bankrupting the Canterlot nobility.”

“It’s the obvious explanation, but we haven’t found any proof,” Fleur stated, “Even our own vassals refuse to speak to us, and my sources have discovered nothing.”

Norah slumped on her seat. “So there is only war.”

A claw rested on her shoulder. “Norah, you can stop this. The only things that needs to happen is that you make them fear our armies more than their own finances.”

Richard turned to Fluer and Fancy. “When the changeling swarm descended upon Canterlot, how many nobles stood and fought? And no, you two don’t count.”

Fancy and Fleur shared a smile.

“It is still fresh in their nightmares,” Richard continued, “And the changelings actually needed to keep the populace alive. We must use their bigotry and fear, since we cannot appeal to the reason of those who are brain dead.”

Norah lifted her glass, “Normally I would deplore such tactics, but I swore to maintain the peace. I will not let my discomfort prevent me from stopping the coming slaughter.”

She drowned the drink, determination written all over her face.

The waiter brought out their food and handed it to the guards. The guards sniffed the dishes and the drinks, and searched for any harmful material. When they determined the food was safe, they brought it over to the table. The food was far from authentic, Fleur could taste the heaps of pepper the cook used to hide his incompetence, but the conversation steered itself to happier subjects.

A cook burst out of the kitchen and slammed his stir stick against a cooking pot, to mark the beginning of a Prench “tradition.” The unicorn staff would dance around the dining room, throwing plates into the air with their magic, and catch in their magic again. Fleur had to force herself not to roll her eye. The “tradition” was as authentic and Prench as the over salted hay fries.

The tradition was actually Romane, and it the head chef would throw around pizza dough into the air a few times by by hoof, rather than this complicated and absurd ritual. Yet, every Prench restaurant in Manehatten insisted on doing it, even though it only resulted in wasted food and broken plates. Fleur felt a pressure in her loins as the drinks finally demanded she use the privy.

“Excusez-moi,” Fleur said as she got up from her seat. As she was walking past a guard, the sound of a plate breaking came directly from behind her, causing her to stop and turn her head. The plate landed next Richard and Nancy. There was no food, only a dark round object, with a sparking wick.

As the horror dawned on Fleur’s face, the world she knew was replaced with a blinding light, a deafening bang, and a wave of pressure that caused her entire body only feel pain.

Author's Note

Historical Note: Thumb ring are used in Mongolian forms of archery. Unlike Mediterranean draw, which pulls the string with two or three fingers, the Mongolian draw has the archer grasp the bow string under arrow, and uses the other fingers to hold the thumb. Since the archers only needs to release their thumb rather than three fingers, this style has a cleaner release than trying to release three fingers at exactly the same time, which is particularly important for horse archers The release does put a lot of pressure on the thumb and this draw can quickly become painful for the archer. The thumb ring alleviates this issue.