Serving His Empress

~Or~

How Shining Armor Avoided a Crushed Pelvis by the Empress Daybreaker

Part the Fifth

It had been a good couple days of travel by air, but eventually Shining and his troops made it to the collection of craggy rocks where somewhere, the outpost was located and crammed full of hostile griffons. While ponies rushed every which way in a perfect example of organized chaos, Shining walked through to the hastily erected command tent and entered, his eyes going over everything. Ponies were taking inventory of supplies, a few composing additional reports for Shining to eventually go over at some point, and then there were the three currently standing around a table waiting for orders.

“Centurion,” Blueberry said, standing at attention and saluting.

“As you were,” Shining answered, making the mare relax as he reached the table. “So, these are the most recent maps of the isles here?”

Tempest nodded, the mare looking down at them. “Correct, Centurion. However, seeing as the outpost has been taken over, these maps will be of little use to us.”

Shining nodded. “Of course. The best weapon and advantage the griffons have over us right now is knowledge of the area. So, let’s start by robbing them of that.” He looked over to Tempest, his expression stern. “Miss Shadow, I’ll ask you to scout ahead, mark areas that we can move through, and pinpoint enemy positions.”

“Of course. I’ll be sure to report back as soon as possible,” Tempest said before Mahiri cut in.

“Centurion, I’d like to accompany her,” Mahiri commented, drawing a look of ire from Tempest. But that was nothing compared to the look of alarm on both Shining and Frost’s faces.

“What? Mahiri, no, please, mpenzi wangu, think this through!” Shining told her, going to her side and holding her. “You can’t be going out in your condition, I can’t… I don’t…” The stallion’s voice was hushed by the zebra’s hoof on his lips.

“Shining, I will live,” she told him. “I will be with the single most lethal pony on this side of the Empress’ empire, and I have no intention of losing my foal to some rowdy griffon. Besides, you know the customs of my tribe.” Shining sighed, shaking his head as he looked at Tempest.

“Miss Shadow, you will be taking Mahiri with you.” Tempest felt her ire rising as she looked the stallion in the eye. “She used to be a scout too, and as good as you no doubt are, I’d prefer that you have somepony with actual experience watching your back than a rookie.” Tempest clenched her jaw, taking a deep calming breath before nodding.

“I suppose that I shall,” she said gruffly, eying Mahiri warily. “When shall we depart?”

“As soon as you both are ready,” Shining said. “If that’s not objectionable to you Mahiri?” The table looked over to the zebra, the striped mare chuckling as she shook her head.

“Not at all, Centurion,” she answered. “I will make sure that I do not inconvenience Miss Shadow at all during this.” Tempest gave her a flat look.

“We’ll see,” Tempest deadpanned. Shining sighed, face-hoofing in annoyance.

“Ladies, you’re both pretty, can we please focus?” he asked, looking between Mahiri and Tempest while Blueberry gave a slight chuckle. “Now, Tempest, you know my preferences in regards to combat. I’d like for you to at least attempt to not kill everything you see.”

“No promises sir.”

“All I ask.” Shining sighed. “Anyway, Tempest, Mahiri, you’re dismissed. Sergeant, what’s our status? How’s morale for starters?”

“You mean with the stallions who think we’re just doing some skeet shooting, or the ones who actually remember that griffons used to be dangerous?”

Tempest left that conversation behind as she exited the tent, swiftly followed by Mahiri, the pair composing an extremely odd couple as they went on their way. “Northern edge of the camp, ten minutes,” Tempest ordered sternly. Beside her, the zebra grunted.

“As my Empress’ assassin orders it,” she answered, turning slightly and flicking her tail in Tempest’s face, making the unicorn scrunch her muzzle up in annoyance. Moving to where her own possessions were stored, Tempest needed only to glare at the mares guarding the crate to make them flee, neither of them wanting to incur Tempest’s possible wrath.

Good riddance, Tempest thought, opened the crate and began to pull out whatever she needed to do her job. Crystal orbs that, when shattered, would blind any being stupid enough to look at it when it shattered, or basic smoke bombs. There were a few wands, one of the only ways that Tempest could feel like a proper unicorn, given the state of her horn. Fireballs, lightning shocks, and, as much as she hated it, even one for basic shielding. Then again, one of her more well used wands was that of a basic levitation spell. Tempest gave herself a satisfied smirk. So many things could be levitated and used in unconventional ways, most beings really had no idea how lethal their environment was.

Slipping all of that onto a pitch black harness, the last thing Tempest retrieved was a small blade, one that was buckled around her forelimb and focused around a simple locking swivel. Tempest felt her magic ebb just slightly as she made sure the blade itself was in its ‘safe’ position. Making sure no one was watching, Tempest raised her limb up and gave a sharp flick, the blade snapping out and locking into position. The sunlight from Her Radiance’s sun seemed to be sucked into the metal of the blade, the only ‘bright’ spot remaining on the untreated base of the weapon where a simple glyph was engraved. Focusing on it, Tempest willed her magic through her horn, the stabbing pain of frayed and severed magical nerves an uncomfortably familiar sensation as she telekinetically grabbed the blade and folded it back in.

Satisfied that she had everything she needed, Tempest headed to the northern edge of the camp, her eyes looking for the black and white striped mare that she was stuck having to work with. Moving past engineers, the armored mare reached the edge of the camp and waited with an annoyed sigh. “I swear, if she is not here, I am leaving without her,” Tempest muttered.

“I don’t believe so.”

Tempest held back the urge to jump right out of her armor as she looked over her shoulder, blinking in mild surprise as Mahiri rose from her spot on the ground, the white sections of her fur covered in dirt and making her dark enough to blend into the ground on the small island they were on. “I didn’t see you there,” Tempest commented.

Mahiri giggled, stepping closer to Tempest while letting a spear rest on her shoulder. “I would hope not!” she explained, smiling in amusement at the other mare. “I would have been a horrible scout otherwise for my tribe!” Tempest’s eye twitched as she followed the zebra out of the camp, the pair walking in silence until they were finally well away from earshot or sight of the camp.

Tempest looked around, eyes narrowed for any sign of pegasus scouts, or worse still, any griffon crazy enough to be flying close to the camp before looking at Mahiri. The unicorn took a deep breath, trying to remain focused as thoughts of most of the past week came to mind. The mare snarled, stamping a hoof into the dirt roughly.

“Are you well, Lady Shadow?” Mahiri asked quietly. Tempest’s ire suddenly spiked at the tone of voice Mahiri used with her. How dare she try to sound concerned, the patronizing horse!

“Well? Well? What does well have to do with anything of what we are about to do? We have a mission and we will see it through, regardless of anything. Especially nosey mares who think that just because they were brought out of destitution they get to play military with the actual, trained experts!” Mahiri recoiled from Tempest’s venom, the mare staring at Tempest at first with anger before sighing.

“...you may be right, Lady Shadow,” Mahiri said finally. “But I know this. What you call ‘destitute,’ I called at peace with the world. What you consider ‘playing,’ I know of to be a reminder that I have fought since long before I came here.” She paused, moving herself in front of Tempest and making her stop. “And I know that you are not whole.”

Tempest’s fractured horn sparked along with her rage, and it was only her years of training in discipline that kept her from unleashing it right into the face of the mare next to her. “You know nothing of what I go through, don’t pretend otherwise! I don’t need your sympathy, your pity, or your empathy! All I need from you is to follow orders and not fuck this up, or else I swear I will kill you myself and hang the consequences with your ‘lover’! Am I clear?”

Mahiri’s face was stoic, looking Tempest in the eye, heedless of the sparks from her horn. “I understand full well. And where sympathy and the chance to share your burdens with others fail, then perhaps a firmer approach is needed. You are a stubborn, wrathful mare, so full of hate, so full of rage. Truly, a storm without equal.” Mahiri tapped the head of her spear against Tempest’s head, the flat of it resting by her horn. It took every ounce of Tempest’s willpower to not simply kill the mare right now. The only thing stopping her was her needing Shining’s cooperation, and the idea of her Empress being disappointed in her. “But I can tell you are unfocused, lashing out against everything in the world that isn’t your Empress. You, Tempest Shadow, may think that your rage and hatred is with the world. But first, you will need to make peace with this,” Mahiri glanced to Tempest’s stub, “Before you will have any chance of being truly at peace. Otherwise, your rage will kill you. And I can be very certain that your Empress will be… greatly displeased with that, should it occur.”

Mahiri removed her spear and turned away, beginning to walk off as Tempest was frozen to the spot. “I have spoken my piece, Lady Shadow. Now let us do our duty, hmm?”

Tempest wanted to do anything but her duty right now. She wanted to rage, to shout, to tear this mare down, whether with words or violence she couldn’t tell right now. But her Empress had impressed deeply into her mind that the mission came first, the mission was all, and that to deny the mission was to deny the Empress herself. So Tempest did what she was good at: bury the feelings under her sea of anger and let her calm slip back to the surface. It was harder this time than it usually was, but she made it happen. She had to.

“Follow my orders, do not ask questions,” she said in a flat tone of authority before moving past the other mare and jumping off the path into the brush. Mahiri grunted, falling into step behind the unicorn as they advanced through the brush. It was slow going, the salty bite of the sea making most of the plant life tough and hardy, nearly impossible to pass through without excessive force. Yet, between the two of them, Tempest and Mahiri made good time towards their objective, freezing only once when a shadow passed by overhead.

“...griffon,” Mahiri whispered, her body hidden in the shadows of a gnarled, stunted tree. “Heading north. Lazy, didn’t look down.” The zebra huffed. “Simba kipofu angetukamata, he’s an insult to predators.”

Tempest ignored the foreign speech in favor of examining what she could of the griffon as it passed them by. The griffon seemed young, barely able to stay airborne considering the state of his plumage. Held in his claws were a pair of ‘longclaws,’ steel blades at least four hooves long that would normally cleave straight through standard pony armor and flesh, digging into the bone. But with the amount of rust she glimpsed, Tempest would have been surprised if the weapons didn’t simply just snap on one good hit with a shield. Her professional opinion as to what this griffon was?

Barely a threat beyond spreading an alarm call.

“These grifs are desperate,” she said aloud, “If they’re using chicks like that in their forces. Which suggests both that they are undersupplied and undertrained but also fanatical enough not to care.”

“Which means that they will either die to a griffon,” Mahiri commented, “Or if we can kill their leader swiftly enough, that they will quickly fall apart. Many tribes in the savannah have fallen that same way.” The zebra narrowed her eyes. “We’ll need to get closer, try to locate their leader from afar.”

Finally, something that this mare and I can agree on, Tempest thought. “Follow,” she called out once more, taking a few steps forward before the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Tempest turned, her leg rising up to flick her blade out before a heavy mass of fur and feathers crashed into her, sending her to the ground hard. Struggling to get the weight off, Tempest looked up and saw the leering face of a ragged griffon, a series of jagged scars running across the drake’s face. Oh, for Faust’s sake!

“Well well, what do I got here?” the griffon asked, grinning wickedly as Tempest felt the point of a longclaw tink against her armor, scraping across its finish before settling into a crack in the plates. Tempest froze, knowing that it would only take a little pressure for this grif to slip the blade past her armor and straight into her heart. She’d be dead in a minute, if that. “What a pretty pony I’s got, eh? Tell me pretty pony, what brings you all the way out here, eh?”

Tempest remained silent, glaring defiantly at him. Partly to try and intimidate him, and mostly because of force of habit. Either way, she was plotting dozens of ways to make this griffon’s death as painful as possible before movement behind the griffon caught her eye. The griffon himself was only just turning when Mahiri’s spear stabbed into and through his claw, slicing through meat and tendon to force him to let go of his weapon.

The griffon opened his beak to scream, only for the heavy, blunt shaft of the zebra’s spear to spin around and smash into his face, sending him back as the blade tore out of his claw in a spray of red. Mahiri’s eyes narrowed. She spun the spear, and then delivered vicious slash to the griffon, a spray of blood flying out to stain the ground several lengths away. The griffon gurgled, bright and dark red mixing freely as the drake clutched his throat, trying to stem the flow as Mahiri helped Tempest up. A soft thud let both mares know that the grif had fallen to the ground, dead.

“You could have let me die,” Tempest said, watching as Mahiri stepped over to the griffon’s body and calmly stabbed her spear into his side. “You… you know full well I would have.”

“Yes.” Mahiri pulled her spear out, more blood spraying out before she looked back at Tempest. “Thankfully, I am not you.” She gestured to the north, nodding to Tempest. “We must continue.”

Tempest nodded. “Yes. Yes, we… we must,” she said slowly, looking at the dead griffon once more before taking the lead. The two mares marched on, the pair making sure that at least one of them kept an eye on the sky at all times as they stalked through the undergrowth. A couple of hours later, the two scouts finally reached their destination, laying down in some brush while looking at the former outpost.

“Fifteen on ramparts that I can see,” Mahiri whispered, staying still as Tempest nodded. “Counting more inside based on movement, but there’s no way to tell how many from this distance.” Tempest looked over the area, noting how flat most of the area was before her gaze settled on a bluff close to the walls.

“There,” she whispered, pointing it out to Mahiri. “We’ll be hidden from view long enough to get close to the wall. From there, it’ll be easy to find the escape door and slip in.” Mahiri nodded, frowning.

“Centurion Armor needs to know what’s here though,” she pointed out to Tempest. “I would go back, but you would be alone in hostile territory. Which means that-”

“We go together, yes,” Tempest cut in curtly, making Mahiri blink. “At least inside, we should have something resembling an advantage, given our sizes.” She looked at the zebra’s spear. “Though, I am hoping you find something smaller than that to use.”

“The Great Mother provides.” Mahiri shifted, easing her legs under her for a quick getaway if needed. “Now, to get in, see how many remain inside, and then where the hostages are.”

Tempest mentally groaned. What was with that stallion and his need to preserve lives? So long as the mission succeeded, then all other considerations were but after thoughts. “If we can locate them, fine,” the assassin noted. “But I am not going out of my way to save them. Clear?” Mahiri nodded. “Good. Then let’s go.”

Slowly, the pair made their way to the bluff, pausing whenever they saw a griffon stretch their wings. Still, the two made good time as they finally reached the wall, Mahiri’s nerves wearing thin as Tempest led her along the length of the wall. “Where is that door?” Mahiri hissed, keeping her eyes up as Tempest rounded a corner carefully.

“Close.” That actually was a good question as far as Tempest was concerned, especially since they should have come to the door by now. Leading them to yet another corner, Tempest almost rounded the corner before stopping, and then immediately backing up, nearly hitting Mahiri in her surprise. “Fuck!” she hissed, alarmed.

“What?!”

Tempest pointed to the corner. “They have a bucking Jarl!” she swore. At Mahiri’s confused look, Tempest growled. “Look, centuries ago, the griffons were a series of kingdoms, each kingdom having their own ‘lesser’ kings, called Jarls. If they have one here…” Tempest shuddered. “The Centurion will have a vicious, Tartarus damned fight on his hooves. Jarls aren’t to be taken lightly.”

“We cross that when we get to it,” Mahiri whispered. “Right now, we need to sneak past.” Tempest nodded, looking over the corner again. The Jarl was looking away from them, a whetstone in their claw as they sharpened a wickedly long blade. Mahiri frowned as she looked the griffon over. They were clearly healthier than the vast majority of the griffons she’d seen so far, and judging by the near pristine state of the armor they were wearing, wealthy too. Or just skilled. Tempest gestured for Mahiri to follow, and the mares trotted by, staying behind clumps of rubble before spotting a hole in the wall.

Well… it’s not the door, Tempest thought, stepping over some rubble with Mahiri right on her tail. Tempest looked over the ruined interior of the hall, noting the massive gouges in the stone work from stray bowgun rounds. Coming to a column, Tempest stopped, pulling Mahiri to the side. “Scout, we need to split up.”

“Split up? Here? Now? Are you out of your mind?!” Mahiri hissed. “Neither of us are ready to fight off this entire outpost even together, let alone separated!”

“I am aware of that,” Tempest told her coldly. “But it’ll be easier to find out how many enemies we’re dealing with that way… and it gives you time to find your precious hostages.” Mahiri stared at her. “Just find them, count how many griffons you see, and come back here and hide. I should be done with my own duties soon enough, provided neither of us are detected.”

Tempest watched Mahiri’s face closely. The zebra’s face went from shock, then various shades of concern and doubt, before finally resolving itself to simple acceptance. “Fine. Stay safe, Assassin.”

Tempest nodded, turning away and trotting silently down the hall, leaving Mahiri alone to her own devices. Sighing, Mahiri shook her head and set her spear down on the floor, making sure that it wouldn’t be too obvious for any griffon who happened to look. “‘Find the hostages’ she orders,” Mahiri grumbled. “What a pretentious horse. Great Mother, grant me patience as I seek the innocent,” she added, sliding from cover to cover on her way down the hall.

Mahiri heard voices coming down the hall. Taking a deep breath, Mahiri dropped to the floor next to some rubble, hoping her choices in coloring her fur would help her at this range. She spotted a pair of griffons walking down the hall, the two avians chatting with one another in hushed tones. Mahiri forced herself to remain still, holding her breath as her eyes tracked the pair coming down the hallway. Closer they came, Mahiri noting how the one on her left limped, and the one on her right seemed blind in their left eye, closer, ever closer until…

They walked right by her, heedless of her ever being there. Mahiri waited until she was sure both were gone before getting back up and moving onwards inside. The zebra slunk past another roving pair of griffon guards, the stinging stench of cheaply made spirits lingering on them as they passed her. Mahiri pressed onward, taking a mental tally of griffons as she moved from the ground floor to the second. Reaching the landing, Mahiri noted the more numerous holes in the walls, sections of roof missing; presumably, it was to allow them an additional method of escape or attack.

Mahiri crept down a hall, only to pause when she heard whimpering. The zebra strained her ears, hoping to catch a trace of the sound again. There! Down the hall, roughly three heavy wooden doors down! The zebra slunk down, her fur keeping her nearly invisible as she approached the door. Every hoof-fall closer, and Mahiri’s heart plummeted at the rhythmic slapping sounds she could make out. The wet collision of flesh against flesh. The zebra crept close to the door, cracking it open slowly to look inside.

There was a mare inside, her fur matted and caked in grime as a griffon lay on top of her. Mahiri didn’t need to look down to see just where the wet slaps were coming from. She had heard it often enough in a situation just like this, months ago. Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed her way past the door. The drake didn’t know what hit him as Mahiri’s back hooves spun around and slammed into the side of his head, the zebra’s strike shattering the avian’s cheekbones, head snapping to the side as he tumbled off the mare under him.

“Wha-?!” he attempted to squawk, only for Mahiri to race forward, grabbing the griffon’s own discarded longclaw in her mouth and running him through with it. She pressed her forehoof hard against the griffon’s throat, silencing him as he bled out, finally falling limp a few moments later. Mahiri let the corpse fall to the ground as she went to the traumatized mare’s side.

“Shh, all is well, he can’t hurt you,” Mahiri told her, looking around for anything to cover the shaking mare with before grabbing a discarded cloak and throwing it over her. The mare clutched the cloak tightly around herself as Mahiri pulled the body out of sight, hiding his weapons under some debris. The mare looked at Mahiri with tear filled eyes, a haunted look on her face.

“W-Who… where did you come from?” the mare asked in a terrified whisper.

“I’m… I’m with a company of Her Radiance’s legionnaires,” Mahiri told her. “I came to scout ahead, but you… I have to get you out.” The mare nodded shakily. “Miss?” Mahiri stopped a length away from her, taking care to not violate any safety bubble this mare surely had now. “What’s your name?”

“A-Autumn,” the mare stammered, still shivering. “A-Autumn Twirl. I… I’m just a clerk, that’s all I am, I’m just a clerk…”

“Shh, shh,” Mahiri comforted, easing her way over to hug the traumatized mare. “You’ll be safe soon, and away from here. Now come, let us depart, and quietly.” Autumn Twirl nodded as Mahiri led the way, the zebra even more alert as she led her charge back to where the scout had originally parted from Tempest. Autumn kept mercifully quiet, something that Mahiri appreciated as they approached the rendezvous point, Tempest already in sight.

“...I see you’ve gotten one of your precious ‘hostages’ out,” Tempest deadpanned. Mahiri glared at her, Tempest almost flinching at the intensity of it.

“Now is not the time!” she hissed. “We need to leave, now! Before the griffons get any wiser!” Tempest nodded in agreement, and led the other two out of the ruined embassy.

Unlike approaching the embassy in the first place, the two scouts plus their charge made their way back to the imperial encampment quickly. Amongst the first to see them arrive was Shining himself. The stallion took one look at Autumn and barked out his orders.

“Medic! Trauma, now!” he shouted, getting out of the way of the two healers that galloped up to the civilian’s side and guided her away. Looking back at Mahiri and Tempest, his expression grew stern. “Report, both of you.” Tempest looked to Mahiri, who gestured with her hoof to Shining. The assassin huffed, annoyed as she looked Shining in the eye.

“At least eighty griffons inside the fort,” Tempest reported, her posture straightening. “I counted thirty heavy bowguns in the upper floors, twenty of which were repeater models.”

“We’ll need to make sure our engineers target those first,” Shining said, trotting to the command tent. Tempest and Mahiri followed, the two mares spotting Blueberry Frost approaching. “What about their fields of fire? Any overlap?”

“Yes Centurion.” The group reached the tent, and Tempest quickly pointed out positions on the map. “There are three overlapping fields of fire here, here, and here. Now, there’s also a breach in the fortifications here, but… I recommend against assaulting it. You’d lose more legionnaires trying to get there than from a frontal assault.” Shining nodded, looking at Mahiri.

“Mahiri? Any more hostages than the one you rescued?” The zebra shook her head.

“No, none that I could find in time,” she answered. “But I would assume that any such hostages are held in a more secure room inside the fort. And… Centurion, there’s one more thing. The griffons… they have a leader. Tempest called him a… what was it again?”

Tempest gulped. “They have a Jarl,” she told Shining. The response was immediate, as both Blueberry and Shining flinched, the mare visibly paling under her coat as Shining stamped his hoof on the ground.

“Shit… a Jarl here is trouble,” Shining grumbled. “Tempest, have you ever fought one before?” The assassin shook her head.

“Not personally, no,” she admitted. “I don’t ‘fight’ beings like a Jarl. I make sure that they end up in situations where they can’t fight me, or I just poison them.” Blueberry sighed, glancing at the map.

“Well darn,” the Sergeant commented, “There goes my good feelin’ on tryin’ to git rid of him quick then.” Shining shook his head, looking outside to where the ballista engineers worked.

“Jarl or no Jarl, we need that facility,” he said. “We can use the ballista as cover fire on their bowgun positions while the main force advances. Our aerial skirmishers will have to work as best as they can under the circumstances. What’s the effective range for bowguns again, about a hundred feet?”

Tempest scrunched up her face in thought. “...depending on condition, model, and shell used? Anywhere from practically point blank to maybe three hundred, four if you’re lucky,” she said finally. “But that’s if you’re talking point accuracy. For general suppressive fire, then we’re looking at closer to six or eight hundred.” Tempest turned and looked in the direction of the fort. “But the heavy bowguns worry me the most. They fire the more specialized shells, and if they’re the wyvern heart models…”

“Big booms,” Shining finished for her. “Damn dragon gems are always a pain however they’re used. Well, the only thing we can do in this situation is move forward.” The Centurion turned to look at Blueberry. “Sergeant, get the troops ready to move, have our pegasi up in the air and ready to use weather magic.”

“Yessir!” Blueberry trotted out of the tent, leaving Tempest and Mahiri alone with Shining. The zebra went to his side, gently nuzzling him and making Tempest’s insides twist uncomfortably.

“I shall remain here,” Mahiri said. “Stay safe.”

Shining chuckled. “I will,” he told her, kissing her before pulling away from her. Tempest watched silently as the pair gave each other a longing look before Shining trotted and left the tent.

“Tempest.”

The assassin turned her head to look back at Mahiri. “What?”

“Please… bring him back safely to me,” Mahiri pleaded softly. Tempest took in a deep breath, thinking over how much she wanted to say no. But the image of Daybreaker’s wrathful gaze flashed in her mind, and Tempest relented.

“I… will do my best,” she said finally.

Mahiri smiled at her. “Thank you.”

‘Thank you’. Those two words nearly made Tempest stumble on her way out of the tent, following Shining to the front of the formation. Getting there, Tempest watched as Shining looked over his troops and nodded, his expression set in stone.

“COMPANY! FORWARD… MARCH!” As one, the massed group of ponies began to march, hooves marching in beat to an internal drum beat as Shining led the way. Trotting just a bit faster, Tempest went to Shining’s side, her expression stern.

“Centurion, about the fort… how do you plan to get close without those bowguns tearing them apart?” she asked. Shining chuckled, glancing over to her.

“That? That I have a plan for,” he told her. “Don’t worry, it’ll work. But Agent Shadow, if at all possible, I want you to do whatever it is you do best. Disrupt the enemy, confuse them, anything.”

Tempest couldn’t help the slightly amused tone from slipping into her retort. “Anything?”

“Well, anything within standing orders,” Shining clarified. “That sound fair?”

Tempest nodded, fixing her gaze forward. “Indeed Centurion.” Shining nearly looked forward too, only to notice the slight smirk on Tempest’s face.

Huh… she looks completely different when she smiles, Shining thought to himself as he marched. Taking a deep breath, the stallion tried to calm his nerves as he mentally went over his list of spells. Harmony above, watchful mother to us all, please protect us as we march into battle. Forgive us our sins, and the sins of those we face, and may the world know peace in your name.

The company marched in silence, at least up until Tempest spoke up a few minutes later. “We’re close.”

Shining nodded. “Split off from us, sneak behind their lines,” he ordered, mentally picking a spell and priming it. A rush of magic went through him, focusing at the base of his horn as he kept the spell ready. “Sergeant Frost, signal for the skirmishers to engage at range, and have all units divide by squad.”

“Yes sir!” Frost replied, hanging back to get to the signaller. Shining took a deep breath.

Time to see how we fare against griffons…

Sergeant Soaring Blitz led her wing forward, leaving the rest of the company behind on the ground. She had seen some action prior to being transferred to Shining Armor’s company, so the thought of combat didn’t terrify her as much as it used to. The same could not be said of the other six or seven pegasi in her wing of twelve. Glancing over her shoulder, Blitz saw one of her pegasi begin to lag behind. “Corporal Breeze, Cirrus is lagging, help him out!” she barked.

An off-white pegasus mare nodded, snapping her wings out and falling back in formation to assist the straggler. Satisfied, Blitz looked back forward, scanning both the ground and air for any hint of an ambush. There were a few clouds present, little sickly grey things that no competent weather pony would allow out of a factory. Still, she’d take what she could get.

“Sarge, how well equipped are these birds anyway?” Blitz looked back at one of her other recruits, a spry blue pegasus with a bit of the Cloudsdale twang to her voice.

“At the very least, long claws and very sharp talons!” Blitz told the mare. “Other than that? Maybe-.” Without warning, the pegasus to Blitz’s right side rear tumbled in the air, flesh and feathers flying off the mangled stump of his wing as he plummeted, screaming, to the cold ocean below, just a sharp crack echoed in the skies. “BOWGUNS! GET TO CLOUD COVER, NOW!” Blitz shouted, beating her wings as hard as she could to the nearest cloud.

She saw her opponents easily enough; a simple ‘flying V’ formation taught in basic flight school, but even from where she slammed her chest into the sickly cloud in front of her, she knew what they were trying to do. Send flanking wings to harass her pegasi, force them to bunch up and settle into one spot. Then, encirclement. And from that… death. A pegasus denied mobility was a dead pegasus. Drawing upon her own magic reserves, Blitz shoved her hoof into the cloud, forcing it to get stronger and harder.

“Breeze, report!” she shouted, watching as a griffon came in closer, closer… and then got struck with a bolt of lightning for their trouble, stunned in the air just long enough for one of her soldiers to throw a short spear into the griffon’s chest. Breeze shoved herself into the cloud next to Blitz.

“Cirrus is dead, so are Nimbus and Featherfall!” the corporal shouted back. The NCOs looked over their cloud cover, seeing the rest of their group huddled behind their own clouds. “We need a damn fog, but there’s not enough cloud up here to do anything with! What do we do?!”

Blitz growled, sending another lightning bolt towards a griffon. “Well, we can’t stay the fuck here!” she snapped. She pointed to the flanking griffons, the glint of bowguns barely visible in the light. “First priority is those bowguns! We let them keep those, we’re fucked! Get the teams out there, take those guns out! I’ll cover!” Breeze nodded, jumping off the cloud and dashing to the next cloud, leaving Blitz alone with the last pegasus in her section, the poor mare huddled in the cloud shaking.

“Hey, HEY!” Blitz shouted, the shocked mare’s eyes locking onto her own. “You’re going to make it out of here, I promise!” Blitz told her before focusing her attention on the griffons settling on the clouds opposite hers, setting up position. Blitz closed her eyes, calling to mind a spell matrix her mother taught her. It wasn’t one taught at the flight academies, and from what her mother said, the spell was an envy to unicorns. But right now, her ponies were in danger, and Blitz would suffer no fool to live.

The first, and only warning most of the griffons got as to what was about to happen was their fur standing on end. Then Blitz flared her wings out wide, arcs of electricity racing along her primaries as her eyes snapped open, pools of pure power glaring at her foes.

“Schiesse! Bewegung!” a griffon screeched, leaping off and away from the cloud before a bolt of lightning worthy of a unicorn war mage slammed into the other cloud, making it explode and electrocuting three griffons who weren’t lucky enough to get out in time. The sergeant sucked in a breath, her wings itching from the mana strain.

“Sweet Radiance, how did you…?” The mare next to Blitz started to ask before Blitz held a hoof up.

“Not here, not now!” she hissed. “We have a mission to complete!”

Meanwhile, Corporal Breeze was leading two other pegasi up to try and take out the griffon bowgunners. “Remember, those guns of theirs use different types of rounds!” she shouted. “With luck, they haven’t switched to close quarter rounds!”

“What happens if they do?” one of the pegasi asked, terrified.

“...pray that it’s a quick death,” Breeze told him. Suddenly, she spotted a trio of gunners hanging onto a cloud, another two close by without the blocky crossbow like weapons. “Five, up high!”

In moments, she and the other two pegasi broke formation as the gunners opened fire, sharp snaps of bowgun rounds missing them as they flew. Breeze summoned a ball of lightning, only for her to instinctively halt in place as a fur- and feather-covered mass nearly slammed into her. Oh FAUST!! Breeze thought in panic as the griffon hovered in place to look at her. Despite how gangly the other creature was, Breeze was all too wary of the griffon’s natural weapons: razor sharp talons on their forelimbs, retractable claws on the hindquarters, and that beak… already had… no, Breeze couldn’t think on that as she juked to the side as her adversary charged at her.

“Dammit! Stay still you fucking bitch!” the griffon shrieked, talons outstretched as she tried to grab onto the pegasus. Even from a length away, Breeze could smell the fetid stench of rotted scraps of flesh in the hen’s claws. Breeze beat her wings hard, propelling herself backwards and putting some distance between the pair.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Breeze spat as she slung another bolt of lightning at the griffon, the bolt unfortunately missing the furred avian. The pegasus dove, claws swiping through the air that her head had been occupying mere moments ago. I need distance, anything to get away from-!

There was pain, an unimaginably unbearable agony as Breeze’s forward momentum was halted all too quickly, the screeching cry of a griffon about to make a kill echoing in her ears. There was a scream, a moment passing by before Breeze realized, dimly, that it was her screaming her lungs out as the griffon’s talons dug even deeper into her shoulders. Her wings weren’t doing anything that she wanted them too, her magic quickly fading away from her.

“Hehe, finally, some fresh fucking meat!” the griffon purred, digging her claws in deeper into Breeze. Breeze let her head hang down her chest. She saw drops of brilliant red falling to the stormy sea below. She didn’t care that it was her blood, her life fading as the griffon tore a hand out of her back, raising it for the killing blow.

Suddenly she was weightless. The griffon fell out of the sky next to her, throat slit. Breeze looked up, seeing Blitz reach out a hoof towards her. Breeze smiled, her eyes going glassy as Blitz watched the corporal’s life fade from her eyes. Blitz flapped to the nearest cloud, letting Breeze’s body rest on the stringy material before glaring at the three griffons left in the air. “Okay you mangy bastards,” Blitz snarled, charging up a lightning bolt in one hoof as a rapidly spinning ball of air formed in the other. “Now… Now I’m pissed.”

The sergeant burst forward, unleashing the micro-tornado upon the gunners. With a roar, the spinning vortex expanded, shredding the clouds the griffons were cowering behind and throwing them across the sky, their weapons flying out of their claws. One griffon managed to right himself, only for the lightning bolt to slam into his chest and fry him alive. The griffon was dead in an instant as the electric surge cooked his nerves to nothing, heart coming to a stop as his brain was wiped clean of all thought. And in the next second, his flesh exploded, the lightning having flash-steamed his blood and flesh to a gory mist. Blitz looked to the next griffon, her expression blood thirsty as the avian gave her a terrified look.

The griffon had barely flapped his wings to flee before she was on him, her hooves pummeling the base of his wings, bones snapping under the blows. Blood was flung into the air as Blitz sent the young fledgling falling out of the sky, her head already swiveling to her next target, only to see the remaining members of her flight rounding up the last of the griffons and taking care of them.

“Make these monsters bleed, Centurion,” Blitz said to herself as she flew over to her remaining pegasi, taking note that, of the twelve she had gone in with, only herself and four others remained. “Please tell me none of you are critically injured,” she groaned, taking note of the jagged lines on their armor.

“N-no Sergeant,” one of the rookies stammered. Blitz blinked. Huh, it was the rookie she had shoved into that cloud earlier. “But what do we do now? Half of us are dead, and there’s more of them than us, and…”

“There’s still half of us alive,” Blitz pointed out, floating over to the new soldier and looking the mare in the eye. “That’s a pretty damn important half. Now I know you’re scared, but we got over a hundred other ponies on the ground that still need us and want to go home. Because the Sun as my witness, I ain’t letting a bunch of dirt humpers go back home in boxes, or get eaten by a bunch of fucking birds while I’m still flying. Understood?”

The pegasus nodded as Blitz looked over the others. “Now, here’s the plan. We get as much cloud as we can get, and we turn it into fog. I’ll handle getting in place, I just need you four to do the hard part; making it.” She reached to her side and pulled out a small stoppered vial. The sergeant pulled the stopper out with her teeth, spitting it out before downing the shot of stormy blue fluid inside. Almost instantly, Blitz felt her magic reserves swell, the potion reinvigorating her as static crackled along her primaries. “After we lay down that fog cover? We bring Empress blessed Tartarus down on their heads from above. Clear?”

The pegasi all nodded, and Blitz pointed towards where the advancing company was heading. “Now, let’s get our tails moving dammit! We have a battle to win!”

Shining ducked his head down, a bowgun shell snapping by his head. All around him, teams of engineers with the ballistae siege engines engaged the heavy bowguns, the heavy rounds from the griffon weapons hitting the steel plates of the ballista shields. Shining turned his head, just in time to see one engineer step out of cover for a second, and instantly take a shell to the head. There was a brief puff of pink mist, and the pony’s headless body just dropped to the ground.

Shining snarled, glaring at the fortified building lividly. “HARMONY ABOVE, RUN OUT OF FUCKING AMMO ALREADY!” he shouted, casting another shielding spell around a squad of ponies. “GO GO GO!” The ponies dashed forward, trying to stay in the shield as he sprinted to a crater and slid into it. Shining narrowly avoided another bowgun shell, the projectile whistling through the air before hitting the ground outside the crater.

SH-BOOOM!

Dirt erupted from the ground, showering Shining in debris, along with a couple of body parts he really didn’t want to think about as he peeked out of the crater. Three hundred feet. Three hundred feet until his soldiers were too close for the bowguns to hit. A body skidded into the hole next to him, Shining’s horn lighting up in preparation for a push spell, only to see Blueberry Frost, her fur covered in viscera and dirt just like him. “SIR!” she shouted, ducking to avoid another bowgun burst. “WE’RE GETTING OUR FLANKS SHREDDED OUT HERE! WE NEED BIGGER SHIELDS, NOW, OR WE CAN START PRAYING THAT HARMONY HAS ROOM FOR US!”

Shining looked around, spotting a particular pair of bowguns. “GRIFFON COVER FIRE IS COMING FROM THOSE TWO GUNS!” he shouted, pointing them out to her. “GET TO THE BALLISTA CREWS, TELL THEM-!” Another exploding shell made the pair duck, the cries of dying ponies and spell fire nearly overwhelming. “TELL THEM,” Shining continued, “TO FOCUS FIRE ON THOSE GUNS FIRST! WYVERN HEART GUNS WE CAN DEAL WITH, GETTING SHELLED WE CAN’T!”

“FUCK, CONSIDER IT DONE!” Frost declared, turning back and sprinting out of the crater. Shining cast a brief deflection on her, a shell bouncing off the magical barrier a second later. Panting, Shining pulled out a mana potion and gulped it down, feeling his reserves swell. Taking a few terrified breaths, Shining jumped out of the crater and sprinted forward, his horn lighting up brightly. Every pony in sight who saw him immediately ducked their heads down.

There was a bright flash, and Shining had to blink as his own spell caught him. “ON ME!” he shouted. “ON ME!” He charged forward, the influx of bowgun fire having dropped sharply as the griffons rubbed their eyes in pain from having a humble flash spell going off in their eyes. Alongside Shining, squads of ponies charged, letting out war cries as they all galloped closer to the walls of the fort.

A flash of red-orange, and Shining saw that a pony had been plucked from the ground, held in the talons of a heavily armored griffon. “Oh fuck…!” Shining muttered as he reached the wall, looking at the griffon in horror as the Jarl flapped his wings, hovering in the air as the pony legionnaire struggled in a panic.

“No, no! Put me the fuck down you feathered fu-!” the pony shouted before in a flash, the Jarl slammed his talons into the mare’s gut from under her armor and pulled her cuirass off from the inside, the wet RIIIP audible across the noisy field. The mare’s bloodied screams would haunt Shining for years, he was certain as the Jarl let his victim scream a bit longer before carelessly tossing her away, the mare hitting the ground with a heavy slap, her screams finally silenced. Every single pony in close proximity looked at the mutilated body and then back at the Jarl, terror on their faces.

Shining saw the looks in their eyes and grimaced. “HEY! ASSHOLE!” he called out, getting the Jarl to look at him. “YEAH, YOU! COME AND FIGHT A PONY THAT’S ACTUALLY WORTH YOUR TIME!” Shining saw the Jarl look at him, saw the beak curl into a sneer. Immediately, Shining telekinetically drew up a blade from his side and parried the griffon’s longclaw, the steel blades scraping against each other in a shower of sparks as the griffon landed on him, trying to pin him to the ground.

“You will regret saying that!” the Jarl growled, shoving his blade closer to Shining’s throat. Shining grimaced, his horn glowing brighter. Suddenly, the Jarl found himself thrown off his opponent as a force spell slammed into his gut, Shining getting back onto his hooves as he looked at his soldiers still watching in shock.

“TO THE WALLS! ON ME AND TAKE THE WALLS!” Shining bellowed, waving his blade around in a circle as the Jarl snarled. Shining snapped his sword forward as the Jarl leapt forward, the blade clanging off of the griffon’s armor as the unicorn dodged his attack.

Several hundred feet away, Frost saw Shining battle the Jarl and grimaced. “Ah shit, he’s gonna get his ass handed to him!” she muttered, a couple of ballista engineers working to load the siege weapon with fresh bolts. “HEY, YOU YOU!” she shouted, pointing at a unicorn. “YEAH, YOU! WHAT KINDA SPELLS YA KNOW?!”

“NOTHING TOO EXTENSIVE!” the unicorn shouted, ducking into cover as a bowgun burst flew over her head. “JUST BASIC LEVITATION MAGIC, AND AN EXPLODING RUNE WARD FOR PERIMETER DEFENSE, BUT-!”

“WAIT, EXPLODING RUNES?!” Frost shouted, surprised as she ducked under the bowgun bursts. She looked at the ballista bolts getting loaded in, and suddenly, an idea clicked. “SPECIALIST! DRINK UP ON THOSE MANA POTIONS, NOW!”

Back at the wall, Shining was keeping his back to the fallen masonry as the Jarl dove in and out of range, their blades clashing again and again in a shower of sparks. Sweet Harmony, this grif hits like a fucking hammer! Shining complained in his head as he ducked under a wild swing of another longclaw, the Jarl dual-wielding both with cruel ease. The stallion stepped back, only to trip and fall into a crater. Shining saw the Jarl grin, wings flaring to the sides… and then squawk as something exploded behind him, sending the griffon flying. Dazed, Shining poked his head out from the crater and stared, gobsmacked, at the sight of Frost directing one of the ballista as an anti-air weapon.

“Sergeant Frost, you crazy bitch, thank Harmony!” Shining gasped as he saw another bolt fly out and nearly hit the Jarl. The griffon banked, flapping his wings to do a proper barrel roll just as the head of the bolt came to pass him… and then explode, knocking the Jarl out of the sky.

Ballista bolts don’t do that! Shining noted as he clambered out of the crater, his soldiers surging into the fort with a cacophony of yells. Still, the unicorn shook his head to clear his thoughts as one of his soldiers came to a stop next to him.

“Sir, we’ve got ponies in the walls!” she shouted, leading him to where his soldiers were finally exploiting a breach in the wall. “We’ll have these feathered bastards on the ropes in no ti-!” The mare was slammed into the wall, Shining skidding back as the Jarl’s blade tore out of her throat, the griffon glaring furiously at him.

“Ich werde nicht gegan ein Kind verlieren!” the Jarl snapped, lunging at Shining as the unicorn blocked his blade. “I WON’T LET SOME BASTARD TAKE THIS FORT!”

“Should’ve thought of that BEFORE your griffons raped an innocent mare!” Shining snarled back, shoving the bulkier griffon away, only to feel a sharp pinch along his flank. He tried to step out of range of the Jarl, only to stumble to the blood soaked ground. He looked at his side, and saw that his white coat was stained red, a line across his side showing even the fat under his skin. “Oh… fuck.”

The Jarl raised his blade high, ready to bring it down on Shining when a black armored pony crashed into the griffon from the side, sending them sprawling onto the ground. Shining flinched as he saw Tempest land on her hooves, blade snapped out and ready as the Jarl stood up, helm knocked off his head. Shining had to grimace at the sight of the heavily scarred griffon as he screeched at Tempest. The unicorn ducked under his wild swing, her blade singing through the air to slash through his armor.

Heh… the one place you’d never expect an assassin, Shining thought as he tried to recall a healing matrix, channeling magic to his horn. Yet the moment he did, the Centurion hissed in pain as his horn throbbed angrily at the unicorn’s attempts at magic. Fuck! Mana burnout NOW?!

Up above, Tempest was having to deal with not getting her head removed from her shoulders as the Jarl attacked her, pushing her back as the griffon flapped his wings. “Fuck!” the mare hissed as she ducked under a wild swing, feeling some of her mane catch on the Jarl’s blade as she swerved to avoid his bulk. Above her, the Jarl snarled, slamming his shoulder into her side. And despite her athletic build, Tempest was still only a unicorn. The impact sent her flying meters away, the assassin landing and bouncing off the dirt with a grunt of pain as she finally came to a stop. “Oh Empress that’s gonna leave a mark…”

“That’s not all that’s going to leave a mark…”

Tempest’s blood froze as she glanced over at the advancing griffon, his gaze lingering on her hungrily. Tempest rushed to get up, only to gasp as her ankle buckled under her weight. “Oh yes… my griffons will slaughter your soldiers, and those who surrender?” Tempest felt his talons wrap around her throat as he loomed over her, pressing down on her as he brought his beak to her ear. “...we will enjoy the spoils of battle for as long as you hold up.” The Jarl licked the inside of Tempest’s ear, and she could only squirm in revulsion at the molestation. “Now… do you surrender, bitch?”

“F-f-fuck… you!” Tempest spat at him, glaring hatefully at the scarred brute. The Jarl chuckled grimly.

“I had a feeling you would say that,” the Jarl said, grinning. “It will make my enjoyment of breaking you exquisite…” He raised a claw to strike at her. Tempest closed her eyes.

“TEMPEST, RUN!”

Tempest’s eyes snapped open, just in time to see Shining, bleeding heavily and holding his sword in what was left of his magic, slam himself into the Jarl’s side. The griffon squawked in surprise, only to roar in pain as the sword went to work stabbing into his body. Tempest watched in awe as Shining attacked with merciless efficiency, his blade slipping past the folds of the Jarl’s plates, strikes focusing on crippling his wings. Something stirred within Tempest as she got her leg out from under her, watching Shining… protect her? Was that what he was doing?

“GENUG!”

The Jarl slammed his free claw into Shining’s shoulder, the Centurion crying out in pain as he was yanked off the griffon’s back. The stallion tried to yank his sword out of the griffon, only for his chest to get struck repeatedly, his armor digging into his flesh with each strike. Black spots swam in his vision as the Jarl threw him to the ground, Shining momentarily blacking out before coming to, seeing the infuriated griffon stomp up to him and lift him up by the neck to his eye level.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” he bellowed, his claws digging into Shining’s neck.

Shining frowned. And then he spat, the crimson spit splashing into the Jarl’s eyes and blinding him. The griffon hissed, dropping Shining to wipe his eyes clean of the blood. Shining landed on the ground in a heap, the unicorn looking at the griffon shaking his head free of the former’s blood. And then, Tempest was under the Jarl, slashing at his limbs, crippling him further, bringing him to the ground. The Jarl looked at Tempest, horror dawning on his face as Tempest lifted up the blackened blade on her leg, and stabbed it forward, sinking it into his throat.

“For the Empress!” Tempest hissed, throwing her leg out to the side. The blade sliced through muscle and flesh with equal ease, the side of the Jarl’s feathered neck nearly coming off with the blade as his life blood gushed out in a heated red geyser. The griffon clutched at his neck, trying in vain to stem the bleeding before Tempest pivoted on her hooves and bucked him in the face, the wet snap of breaking bone audible even to the griffons on the ruined ramparts.

“Schieße! Der Jarl is tot!” one of them shouted, just as they were stabbed by a pony’s lance. In moments, the griffon’s lost their resolve, all of them trying to flee as Shining’s remaining forces cut them down. Tempest watched a few of the griffons try to flee before scoffing.

“Fools,” she muttered, hobbling over to Shining. “Still, quite a victory Cent…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Shining’s prone form in shock. “Oh Empress, no… HEALER! I NEED A HEALER, NOW!”

Shining was wondering why in Harmony’s name Tempest was yelling. Or why she was the one with a panicky expression on her face. She was… the Empress’ assassin. She was a fucking hardass who needed to pull the lance out of her ass. And she was kinda cute, sort of. Shining chuckled to himself as his vision grew dim. Harmony, he was so tired. Maybe Mahiri, or even the Empress, could forgive him if he just… took a bit of a nap. Whatever the Jarl did to him knocked him around a bit, he needed rest. A lot of rest.

He looked down, seeing his rent armor, the jagged punctures in his chest. Hints of his own shredded organs.

Oh. Fuck. Well… shit. I’m so sorry Mahiri. I’m so… sor… ry….

Author's Note

Well... this took a bloody while.