Alpha & Omega

CHAPTER 3: RAGE & DECEIT

Southmarch, Kingdom of Griffonia, 11 A.N.M.

"I am glad you came to me about this matter, Princess Twilight. I assure you I would not allow anything to happen to our alliance with the ponies," said Jarl Fierdsveinn Lionsblood, walking down the dusty halls of Hadrborg Keep with the magical apparition of Princess Twilight Sparkle. Most of her regal attire was gone, except for the crown on top of her head.

"You are welcome, Jarl Fierdsveinn. And please, call me Twilight," said Twilight, her translucent purple form flickering slightly as she spoke. She was always amazed by griffonian architecture -- this hallway alone was so big it could hold a dragon. Massively vertical windows allowed a perfect view of the city as well as the breathtakingly gorgeous, green tundra of Southmarch, and the pine-trees of the Haafíngar Forest beyond that.

Out in the distance, through the mist of the frosty morning, was a mountain with an entire half of it missing, one side perfectly flat like somepony -- or rather someone -- had sliced it with a saw. And carved into the flat side in griffonic knots was the scene of a griffon húskarl decapitating a dragon. A bit brutal for her tastes, but the very notion that such a landmark existed sent shivers down her spine. Fierdsveinn said that mountain was called Naðrfall.

She wished she could stay here and just learn about griffonian culture and history. Their religion, their customs, their leaders; despite how violent they were -- and she didn't try and pretend they were in the wrong for that, unlike Princess Galaxia. It wasn't their fault they lived in such a harsh place -- she wanted to know everything. But she had her duties as a princess to attend to back home in Equestria, and there was absolutely no way she was going to squander them... as much as it pained her sometimes to carry them out. Especially now, where she was flat out lying to one of the most influential griffons in the world.

"Although I wish we could have met in person," said Twilight, the two of them stopping and turning to one another. The long red rug looked like it was made out of silk, if only she could feel it under her hooves.

"Think nothing of it, Pri-- er, Twilight. I understand that, as royalty, you are surely pressed for time. This was by far the most simple way of communicating with me. If only us griffons had the magical prowess of ponies, especially that of a magister as impressive as you."

Twilight bowed her head in respect, "Thank you, Jarl."

Fierdsveinn turned away and sighed, his black claws crossed at the base of his padded-leather tunic, "Our two houses have been bitter rivals since the very beginning. We had completely different ideals. While House Lionsblood wanted peace and unity above all else, our northern brothers in House Ironclaw thought the griffons to be superior, and they would use whatever force necessary to make sure the rest of Mundus knew it."

Fierdsveinn walked over to one of the windows, watching a flock of white birds fly past, "But of course the only member of Ironclaw who actually considered peace had to die."

Twilight walked up to him, a confused look on her face, But... if he wanted peace... then why did Celestia have him killed? she thought.

The Jarl continued, "At least his death was peaceful..." he sighed again, "I suppose there is no reason to dwell on it any longer."

He turned to Twilight's apparition, who was watching the landscape with a grim look on her face. She turned to Fierdsveinn, "So, it seems we have a deal?"

Jarl Fierdsveinn smiled, "On behalf of House Lionsblood and all of Southmarch, we have a deal, Princess Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight smiled, bowing her head, "I am glad to hear it, Jarl. I would shake your hand, but it wouldn't be possible in my incorporeal form."

Fierdsveinn chuckled, "Then I will simply give you a respectful bow," he said, doing just so, as did Twilight. They gave each other another, smaller bow before Twilight disappeared.

Jarl Fierdsveinn turned back to the window, looking out at Naðrfall. He sighed, "Time to set things right. Once and for all."

Gryphus Palace, Talos Bao'Dur, 11 A.N.M.

Gilda walked through the vacant halls of the palace. She was out of her lamellar armor, a tan-green colored tunic covering her brown fur. It was a single size too large for her, making it look baggy around her arms. Her scabbard was tied lazily at her side, the belts of the harness clinking slightly against each other as well as the handle of her ulfberht with each step. Her eyes stated blankly out in front of her, deep black bags clearly visible underneath them. Deep within her skull was the worst hangover she had ever had.

By the gods, I only had one mug. Well, one and a half. Two-- no, three, tops.

Banners as tall as the ceilings lined the walls. They were of varying colors, each representing the Griffonian noble houses. House Ironclaw, a long green banner with a silver, veiled spectacle helmet, with two hafted axes of the same color crossed behind it. House Al-Væpni, an ocean-blue banner with a black anvil wrapped in griffonic knots, House Lionsblood, a blood-red banner with the golden image of a griffon warrior beheading a dragon. Almost every noble house was shown in this hall.

Almost.

A loud grunt caused Gilda to stop. She turned to the source of the noise -- a large, wooden door which was cracked open. This one in particular led to the training room. She let her claws, which were formally crossed behind her back, fall limp at her sides. She walked toward the door, the sound of grunting and the clashing of steel getting louder as she neared it, leaning into the door and creaking it open.

The room was totally vacant, except for a griffon and a minotaur who were sparring with weapons wrapped in cloth. Gilda recognized one of them.

With a feral howl, the griffon lunged at the minotaur, who was kneeling on the ground and using his halberd to keep him steady. He raised his board shield, but the griffon merely shattered it under the weight of his axe. He swooped the axe around, sweeping it underneath him and slamming it into the minotaur's jaw causing him to fall onto his back.

The griffon leapt on top of the minotaur with the help of his wings, and placed the cushioned axe blade against the minotaur's chainmail covered throat. Some of the links were red from his broken teeth.

A single laugh drew the attention of both of them, and they snapped their heads toward Gilda, who was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, "Getting out some frustration, Darius?"

The griffon looked back at the minotaur. With a snarl, he tossed his axe to the ground and stepped down from the minotaur's chest, stomping over to the door. Gilda placed a hand out to stop him, but she was met with him roaring at her like a lion beneath his helmet before kicking the door open and storming out.

Gilda looked at the door, then back to the minotaur who was trying to get up. "Like a wild animal, that one," he said, carefully taking off his helmet which had holes in it for his horns. He spat out a hunk of blood and teeth on the floor, wiping his mouth off with his fur bracer before he was on his feet.

Brushing himself off, he continued, "I suppose if I lived as long as an ox fart I might be desperate to make something of myself too." He turned to Gilda, scratching his dark grey mutton chops which contrasted his bronze-colored fur, "But where are my manners. My name is Fulvus Cauda, or Bronze Tail in your tongue. I am bodyguard of the minotaur who led the mercenary band that came here the day prior to the funeral. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he bowed his head in respect as he finished his sentence.

"Gilda Blacktalon, former retainer to the king," said Gilda, bowing her head as he did.

"You know my brother, Ferrus Voluntas. Iron Will, as he prefers to be called. He always spoke highly of you. Haven't seen him since back when we still lived in the capital."

Gilda perked up at this, "Iron Will was here yesterday. He joined me and the other kingsguard at Rhosus' funeral, as well as during the memorial celebrations, but this morning he was nowhere to be found."

Fulvus chuckled, "That sounds like my brother. Always moving place to place, never keeping acquainted. Should be expected of one who couldn't keep a brother, either. I hear he used to be a self-help instructor in Equestria a decade ago."

Gilda smiled, "He prefers not to talk about it," she paused a moment, "What were you two fighting about, anyway? I didn't see Darius at the celebrations, not even at the funeral."

"Busy finding a way to blame the ponies for his father's death, no doubt. Although he must have been having trouble coming up with an excuse, because his rage was at a record high," he said, rubbing his jaw and flinching slightly at the pain, "Demanded we spar. Never seen someone fight so hard in a training battle."

"Anything that doesn't go Darius' way just makes him angrier. He's got more lion in him than any griff I've met. I should go speak to him..."

Fulvus huffed, "Well, I should bid you good luck in that endeavor. He's got the kind of rage that could only end with someone's death. It was a pleasure meeting you, retainer."

Gilda stopped herself in the doorway, turning a bit to face Fulvus, "As with you, Fulvus Cauda." The two shared a bow, before they left the room. Gilda exiting into the hallway, and Fulvus walking through a door that would lead to the apothecary.

Taking a left as she exited the training room, she walked down to an open door near the end of the hall and stepped through. This lead to the bedrooms of the royal family, and from the sounds Darius was making he was no doubt wreaking havoc in his room. Turning the corner, the noises got louder as she neared the half-open door at the end of the hall.

Opening it further, she ducked underneath a vase thrown in her general direction. The room was a nightmare. Dressers overturned with their drawers scattered across the floor, a broken mirror with pieces of glass surrounding it, a brazier collapsed on the carpet -- thankfully only a few dim sparks within it, not enough to start a fire.

Leaning over the railing of the balcony, the doors to which were busted off their hinges, Darius panted heavily, his spectacle helm on the stone floor next to him.

"Darius?" Gilda asked softly, leaning against the doorway to the balcony. Darius glanced over his shoulder, looking at Gilda with a single yellow eye.

"Go away."

Gilda walked over to him and looked out at the frozen mountains of The North. She glanced at Darius and placed a claw on his shoulder, causing him to tense up, his right arm twitching slightly, but he quickly relaxed and let out a deep exhale.

"There is no way he died of sickness -- he was as healthy of a griff there was. He was far too young to die of old age, most griffs live to 120 before they pass." Darius turned to Gilda, leaning back against the railing, icy air chilling his spine, "You no longer hide your hatred of them, Gilda. But I refuse to believe that after your speech you still think the ponies had nothing to do with his death."

"Good, because I don't," said Gilda matter-of-factly.

The light-brown griffon laughed, "You came here to further speak of the matter that enraged me so? Had I known you were this brave I wouldn't have assumed so quickly that you would mourn and wallow in shame like the ponies want us to."

"I heard a peacekeeper was beaten to death by a group of griffons this morning," said Gilda, leaning against the railing next to Darius. The balcony gave them an incredible view of the city below.

"No doubt your work, I presume?" said Darius, having trouble keeping a smile from creeping onto his beak.

"Perhaps not directly," Gilda said in a sing-song voice, "But I think I might've had something to do with it."

Darius chuckled, pointing a claw out in the distance, "Did you have something to do with this?"

A mob of griffons all shouted and cursed at a shield-wall of heavily-armored ponies in golden armor. The griffons threw bottles, rocks, anything they could get their hands on in an attempt to break their line. A more creative griffon held a bottle with a burning piece of cloth inside of it, which they threw at the line. When it shattered, it erupted in an inferno, causing the guards to step back. The mob, seeing them stunned, charged forward and smashed against their line, a few ponies in the back routing instantly.

"If not for these damned ponies and their new laws, I'd have been king by now, and we'd already be marching on Henosia."

Their attention was drawn to the door to Darius' room, which Gilda had closed, being swung open. A brown pony in regal attire stormed in, sweat pouring down his face. He was accompanied by two guards in solid gold armor.

"Prince Darius! The citizens are rebelling! You must--" his eyes instantly snapped to Gilda, and he stepped back, "What is she doing here?!"

Gilda laughed, "Darius, you simple minded fool. We have ways of getting that to happen."

There was a deafening crack and the pony collapsed like a rock, a small pool of blood surrounding him. Gilda lowered her smoking flintlock and unsheathed her sword. Darius pulled out a dagger from his belt. Gilda spoke three words that made the pony guards ready their spears.

"For the king."

Golden Oaks Library, Ponyville, 11 A.N.M.

Twilight Sparkle shot up with a jolt, panting and sweating heavily. Silken purple sheets draped over her immediately told her she was no longer in her study.

"She's awake!" came a young male voice, that was very familiar to Twilight. There was a clattering sound of a dozen hooves downstairs as a tall, purple dragon entered the bedroom.

"Spike! What happe-- argh!" Twilight yelped as pain arced through her skull. She grasped her head with a hoof, rubbing her temple with one eye closed shut. The dragon stopped, reaching toward a dresser and grabbing a bag of ice from the top of it. He rushed over to Twilight, helping her lay down as he placed the bag on her forehead above her horn. "Thanks, Spike," she said, placing a hoof on the bag.

"No problem," Spike said with a smile, before turning and walking into the bathroom. There was a small click as the light turned on, and shortly afterwards Twilight could hear the sound of running water.

Spike is Twilight's personal assistant, a baby dragon that Twilight hatched during her entrance exam for Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns. She was only ten when she hatched him, and Twilight raised him herself since that day. She absolutely hates calling him a 'baby', because he's 24 in pony years and is as tall as she is. However, for a dragon -- who tend to live thousands upon thousands of years -- he's practically still a hatchling.

Suddenly, two familiar mares rushed into her room, followed by other ponies clad in black armor.

"Twilight! Are you okay?!" exclaimed the sky-blue female pegasus in a cracked voice. She zipped over to Twilight's side. Behind her, an orange earth-pony rushed up, a brown stetson on top of her blonde hear, which was tied in a lazy ponytail.

"Rainbow Dash? Applejack? What are you two doing here?" asked Twilight incredulously, sitting up with the ice bag on her head, "And what are the soldiers here for?"

"You've been out cold for the past two days," said Applejack, an obvious southern accent in her deep, yet still feminine voice, "Spike sent Fluttershy and Rarity to get some headache medicine half an hour ago -- for when you wake up -- and Pinkie's... somewhere. Making you a 'get-well-soon' card I reckon."

"The soldiers wanted to see you. They said they were gonna take you to Canterlot or whatever," said Rainbow Dash. If somepony laid eyes on her they could easily see where she got her name; her messy mane and tail were striped with every single color of the rainbow. Nopony ever believes her when she tells them it wasn't dyed, but she absolutely insists it's natural.

"I ain't never seen any armor like that before, though," added Applejack. Spike walked over and handed Twilight a glass of water, who wrapped it in a purple aura of magic and floated it over to her lips as she took a long sip.

"Escorts to Canterlot? What for?" asked Twilight, watching the soldiers as they weaved between the two mares. They had striking yellow capes draped over their ornate black armor, signifying their membership within the Goldencloaks, the magical branch of the Equestrian Royal Guard.

"Jarl Fierdsveinn has personally requested your assistance in this matter. We will escort you to Canterlot, where you will meet up with the rest of the guards, and then you will take a carriage to Henosis where you will meet with him to carry out the coup," said the mare on the left. Her coat was a pale sky blue, and her eyes were a glowing, icy teal. Twilight noticed tufts of fur on the tips of her ears, and bat-like wings at her sides. She was a thestral, more commonly known as a batpony for obvious reasons.

"Wait... but I just got done talking to him. How could news have spread that quickly?"

"Like your friend said, you were out cold a couple of days. You had transported your very soul from your body to the other side of the planet. That spell takes a lot out of a pony, even an alicorn. Even Celestia needed to rest after casting something of that magnitude, but considering how long you were channeling it, yours was the worst."

"Wait, so Celestia can move the sun but placing a ghost of herself somewhere is too much?" asked Rainbow Dash with suspicion in her voice.

"On top of the fact that she's the princess of the sun, she has been moving the sun all her life," answered the thestral, "When she cast the spell it was new and foreign. If she cast it more and more, she would get better at doing it and the fatigue would lessen. Think of it like exercising, but for the mind instead of the body. For an alicorn, it would be much faster to train a spell."

"Unfortunately, we will not be able to bring your friends," added the dark-grey stallion, continuing what the pair was trying to say. His helmet was off, making his short white and sky-blue mane visible.

"WHAT!?" screamed Rainbow Dash in rage, her voice cracking loudly as she flew over to the stallion, "Look here, buster, we're Twilight's best friends, and where she goes, we go!"

"We ain't gonna let her be by her lonesome on this one," said Applejack, trotting over to the Goldencloaks.

The stallion shoved Rainbow out of his face with a hoof, "We are sorry, but we cannot put the Elements of Harmony at risk. Even though the artifacts themselves are gone, you and your friends still possess their power. If the griffons have a chance to kill you, they'll take it."

Rainbow Dash practically fell from the air, her face pale as bone, "Wh... kill us? How bad is it over there?!"

Twilight Sparkle swept the covers off of her with a hoof, and stepped down off her bed, allowing the bag of ice to fall onto the wooden floor. She grunted as a small spark of light appeared at the tip of her horn, before turning into a massive electric storm that surged through her body. She yelped and fell to the ground, and the two Goldencloaks, as well as Rainbow, Applejack, and Spike who had came from downstairs, rushed over to her. The Goldencloaks placed their hooves between them and the others as they tended to the princess.

The thestral looked at her companion, who nodded and lit his horn. Placing the tip of it on Twilight's head, she felt an icy calm flow through her head, and suddenly the ache was gone.

"Pain masking spell," said Twilight, "The headache is still there, I just can't feel it... and I won't be able to cast spells."

"So just teleporting you guys to Henosia won't work?" asked Rainbow.

"No," said the two Goldencloaks in unison.

"Girls, don't worry about me. The goldencloaks are right, this is too dangerous for civilians."

"You will not be entirely alone, your majesty," began the thestral, "A few citizens of Ponyville have volunteered to be your personal guards."

"Why they don't just send some professionally trained soldiers to guard her I'll never know," muttered the stallion under his breath.

"Aster," said the thestral sternly, staring right at the stallion.

"Fluttershy, Rarity and Pinkie Pie are still out. I should go and say goodbye to them before we leave," said Twilight with a concerned look on her face.

"When you are ready, your majesty, we will depart with you and your dragon assistant," said the thestral.

Spike's eyes widened, his irises turning to pinpricks, "Wait, what?! Didn't you say it was going to be extremely dangerous?"

"Indeed," said Twilight, a mischievous grin on her muzzle, "But I'm sure you'll be able to handle yourself; isn't that right, Captain Spike?

Spike's look of horror changed to a smug smile, "...Captain, huh?"

Battle of Kharnak Prime, 3089 A.D.

A cacophony of boarding pods rained from the hulls of the imperial battlecruisers like the fire-iron tears of weeping metal gods. The ISS Bellum Millennium and the ISS Jaegarmeister committed to assault in the same moment, in the same location.

I remember -- with a clarity no hangover can ever steal -- the way my pod weaved through the vacuum of space, narrowly dodging the white-hot lances of the elf cruiser's lasercannons, the sickening crunch of metal-on-metal as my pod pierced through the golden adamantium hull alongside my legion of brothers eternal.

I could smell their scum, even before my pod drilled it's way into their ship. The ZY-44 'Gorgon' dark-energy assault rifle in my hands snarled and roared with bloodlust almost equal to my own.

With a wailing shriek of metal-on-metal my pod pried itself open, the grip I held on my rifle was strong enough to shatter lesser alloys. Sweat poured down my face beneath my helmet as the purple light of elven terminals nearly blinded me. The earsplitting howl of a feral, gorehungry dragon escaped my throat as I leapt from the pod, making it my gods-given goal to rip and tear anything that stood in my way.

Erz ozh aglar sof'izh bak aglar ahwald

We are His eyes and His fists

Such is the motto of the Centurions.

The mightiest warriors in the Empire. The true sons of Xektus,

The Allfather.