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!”

“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.”

“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."