Time to Shine

Chapters

1 Cat Bird Snuggles
3. Daybreak
4. Wake Up Call
5. Delegates and Options
6. Smolder
7. Names and Titles
8. Bridlewood
9. Forced Landings
10. Utility Lizard
11. A Walk in the Sunshine
12. Dragons Dreams and Questions
13. Wind Rain and Cat Birds
14. Season of the Witch
15. Firestarter
16. Waving a Cape at a Red Bull
17. Wakey, Wakey Eggs and Catfish
18. Giselle
19. Feather Express
20. Paths in the Dark
21. Ante Up
22. Royal Race
23. Lullabies in Griffonstone
24. A Shot In The Dark
25. Three Points and No Summary
26. All Watcher
27. Bon Voyage
29. Nightmare Pleasure Cruise
31. Headlines
32. Opening Moves
33. Castling
34. Promotion
35. Pawns
36. A Different Game.
37. Advancing Two Squares
38. Moving Diagonally
39. En Pessant
40. Bearing Off
41. Rolling Points
42. Major Split
43. Meeting of the Celestial Spheres
44. Сцинтиллятор
45. Main Flight
46. The King and I
47. Crunch Time
48. Starting Position
49. Key Point
50. Up And At Them
51. A Military Purpose
52. Nightmares
53. Pests
54. Magnesium Flare
2 Day Fall
28. Blood Moon
30. Burial Details

1 Cat Bird Snuggles

Time to Shine

A My Little Pony Fanfic

By Easysnuggler

“In Farsai in Zebrat, there are ancient vaults deep underground. They have collapsed passages that are rumored to lead to other underground places far away. These vaults are from a time of wondrous technological achievements. The diamond dogs who are the vault keepers say that all other creatures are descended from the servants of the masters who built the vaults.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

1. Cat Bird Snuggles

The night was clear but windy. The wind howled outside the small room in the high aerie of Giselle’s mother’s home. Giselle nestled with Gerrard deeper into the straw of her nest box, sharing her downy fuzzy warmth with her fiancé. Mother was visiting friends on another peak and Gerrard had just returned from a two-week hunt across the Gusto. He was dirty, tired, and irritable.

“Gerrard, you are a mess.” The pretty blue-black feathered griffoness ran her nimble claws through Gerrard’s dull red and tan plumage. “Oh, my bird, are those ticks? You’ve got ticks Gerrard!”

“Not surprised. The Gusto river-lands are full of them. Completely alicorn forsaken Giselle. Nothing but ice, wolves and angry bears,” he looked at Giselle as she continued preening him, claws raking his fur and red feathers, beak nipping to straighten this and that as her claws removed and crushed the hard to reach and well dug in itchy parasites one by one.

“Are they not feeding you? You’ve lost another 5 pounds if it's an ounce.” She eyed him disapprovingly. “You have to keep your weight fluffy-cat, or we’ll never get our aerie egg-licenses. You don’t want us to raise an egg by ourselves in the lowlands do you Gerrard?”

“As if they’d deny a hunter, and as if you’d fly the coop with me unmarried and underweight?”

The preening completed she continued to stroke his powerful back muscles.“I might. At least you’re more solid. Wow, is all that muscle? What happened to the fluffy cat? Where is my little roly-poly dough bird?”

“I ate him. Seriously Giselle, they worked our tails off. We hunted before dawn and after dusk. I’ve never been so tired. Or in better shape. But there’s just no game worth taking on this side of the mountains north or south, and they say the fishing is all played out. Gardet says they are going to make a big push south across the Stampede Stream.”

Giselle continued to rub his sore muscles.

“Gardet is being sent with some others to scout the way. When they do, I'm going to go with them.”

Gerrard could feel his betrothed tense up a bit behind him. He continued quickly “I secured a place on Gardet’s hunting party. Let's see Gwenivere make fun of that.” He preened Giselle’s pretty feathers, as blue as the evening sky. She bowed her head and let him groom her.

“When we get back, we are all promised a full home nest stake, and a license. You and I can wed. If we hatch an egg together, we can carve out a stake, any stake we like across the river with our fledglings. No Himallaman monsters, no rocs, no nasty Maplegrovers pushing in, just a nice homestead on flat green land with plenty of rabbits, fish, turtles, and muskrats. No more fruit or veggies. MMMM.”

Giselle did not share Gerrard’s enthusiasm. Hunting for lands across the stream would mean more time without Gerrard. But…. on the other paw, having a stake in a safe place with food sounded very nice, even if they would just be pioneers for a while until the rest of the griffons moved south. She turned in her box, moving away a bit so she could look directly at him. “So, King Gerald means to do it? To settle the south and abandon Griffonstone?”

“I doubt it will come to that. We’ll keep a garrison here, but we must leave Giselle, there’s no food, the population has almost tripled and the wind and cold is not letting up. We’re just not the griffons of ancient legend. We can't fight the winds or push around clouds like the old tales say.”

He looked at his pretty fiancée and her beautiful yellow eyes. “I love you; this is for the best. I’ll be back in six weeks, two months at the outside. We’re just scouting, and the last time some griffons went that far they found nothing but trees, rocks, and game. We should have made this move a decade ago. Trust me. This time next year we'll have full bellies, be happy and warm, and eggspecting.”

Giselle kissed his cheek. The wind picked up outside. A single bright green shooting star streaked across the heavens westward towards Canterlot.

Author's Note

A lot of characters in this story. I had hoped to put a hook in at the start to intrigue people, because the story takes a short while to get rolling. If anyone sees mistakes or typos please point them out as I’m my own editor.

3. Daybreak

“In those vaults preserved on pages that never rot lie tens of thousands of volumes. Side, front, and top pictures of griffons and alicorns fill the books. Some look like zebras but with wings and horns. Celestia said they are breed registries and did not elaborate. Luna merely cried. Alicorns alone know how to read the text.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

3. Daybreak

The morning meditation to find the inner dragon was led by the ancient All-Watcher Tarnish himself. Afterwards, the homily that the grizzled old lizard gave focused on the story of the heroes of the exodus and the sacrifices and many conflicts and bargains they had made to escape from faerie bondage to return to the land of Equestria. Prioress Doriz and the other priests and priestesses from the temple warren shook tambourines and clashed cymbals at appropriate times as the dramatic story unfolded.

The service was soon over, and another day began as the kobolds headed to work. Rizi, a large green kobold with a long tail and orange eyes viewed the clawfull of miners heading underground with envy. Still, hunting and gathering were much better than her old job of burial detail where every day just brought more sadness and shame. The dragons were slowly dying and had been for hundreds of years. The kobolds were apparently helpless to do more than just honor the dead. Each new burial felt like a defeat. Sill, hunter was (in her opinion) better than trap maker, and she had no talent as a caregiver. Hatchlings were cute but dealing with them was tedious.

Working in the bright sunlight was unpleasant but her goggles helped. At least the sun was warm. They worked in the day outside, because the things that hunted and haunted in the night of the Dragonholme range were not all warm blooded. Seeing heat at night was useless against such threats. Kobold day vision was fair, but so long as one avoided looking at the sun one could see a long way off, even with the smoked glass goggles.

The smaller fall-colored kobold twins Rain and Wind scrambled over the rocks hunting with little stabbing sticks as tiny creatures scampered back and forth trapped by the snowy rock of the bowl crater in which they hunted. Occasionally one called aloud when they caught some small lizard, rodent, insect, or a rare bird which they would then add to their collection. Rizi oversaw her clutch mates work all day. As the eldest, largest, and most experienced, it was her job to keep them safe. She kept her goggled eyes open to the sky and the horizon looking around for rocs, slingtails, or other signs of danger but today was quiet and cheerful.

The day wore on, and as evening approached at last, she called to Rain and Wind “Enough, go down get cherries now, yes?” Rizi wanted to head by the cherry grove farther down the mountain before the sun went down completely. The chirping responses the little male and female kobold made showed they had heard and were climbing down. Rizi’s frame was a bit larger than either of them, although they had all been hatched around the same time.

The foragers returned to North Warren after dropping off their food and fruit at the larder and said farewells. They split up to wash, rest and eat. Rizi soaked in the hot springs and rinsed in a clean mountain stream. She filed her claws and sharpened her spines, brushed oil on her scales, polished her two backward facing ivory head horns and ate.

Long after moonrise and heading toward sleep Rizi found Prioress Doriz standing at the entrance to her little personal grotto, a small notch off the main residence hall. Doriz was dressed in her pointed wide brimmed hat, robes, and cape. Her scaly green arms were crossed, and a slightly disapproving expression sat upon her snout. Her orange eyes met Rizi’s own. “We’ve been waiting for you Rizi Quiet”, she said using the collective we. This was an official visit apparently.

Doriz was the Prioress of the tribe and she spoke little. Some said she was cheerier before her chosen one West had met his heroic death at the claws of a roc. The elders said West had sacrificed himself to save Ashley's little dragon whelp Dust. They still told stories about the bravery he showed that night. Rizi couldn’t picture it happening the way they said but didn’t entirely disbelieve it. Dust, now a grown dragon and presently the second largest of those awake, treated the kobolds and Doriz with more respect than was customary for a dragon, so maybe there was something to the tall tale after all. Servants rather than slaves. She was nice. Well, as nice as any dragon could be to kobolds without being harassed over it.

Most of the clan seemed to hold the opinion that Rizi had been Doriz's egg and Doriz was both bright green and the largest Kobold female. Plus, they both had orange eyes, but many Kobolds had those. Though no one else had a Prioress poking her snout into everything they did. Kobolds had communal hatcheries, and parenting was done in common, primarily by caregivers, nannies who never found fault with Rizi’s work. Unlike Doriz who often seemed to take an interest in Rizi’s apparently numerous failings, and occasionally tersely criticized and corrected her. It was exasperating.

“Prioress Doriz, was waiting here for Rizi?”

“Don’t give us any snark, little Rizi”. She waited. She eyed Rizi suspiciously as if she were expecting sass. Rizi remained quiet.

“Triple Draco conjunction foretells a sudden journey.” This elicited no comment. The seers of the Prioress were often alarmingly correct in their visions, so Rizi listened attentively. Warnings and astrological signs were for seers like Doriz to unravel, not hunters like Rizi. But why had the Prioress come herself?

“Draco dawn, moon hatching on your hachday.” Ahh, they thought some horoscope they had seen involved her. Maybe she would be assigned different work again? She was happy doing what she was and didn’t want eggs or even a casual mate. She hoped this involved neither.

Doriz would doubtless get to her point soon. “A shooting star fell to Sparkles Folly”. Doriz pointed to the west. After a long moment Doriz went on. “Bright green color like us, little Rizi.” Rizi blinked at that. “Changes are coming soon Rizi, be ready.” Rizi nodded her head.

Doriz stared into her identical orange eyes a moment longer, turned on her heel and walked away tail swishing. Rizi stared after her. It was more words all together than Rizi had heard the Prioress use in a year.

Travel was silly. The dragons were all here after all. Why go? She shook her head. It might be nice to see the world, but her place was where the dragons wanted her.

4. Wake Up Call

“The few unrelated books, contain pictures whose imagery is clear. They show diamond dog like creatures interacting with alicorns and griffons always in what appears to be positions of authority.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

4. Wake Up Call

Scorcher dreamed feverishly of shooting stars, tossing, and turning in his sleep. It was a vivid dream in which castles fell and a blue star filled his senses. Blue smells, blue sounds, blue tastes, blue touches… A blue blur was shaking him. He opened and closed his dream eyes. It was so hard to focus. Finally, a blue dragoness hauled off and whacked him. “Ouch” he said. “Dreams aren’t supposed to hurt.”

“That is a lie we tell the young.” The long vanished and presumed dead dragoness Ember had smacked him on the nose with the Bloodstone Scepter - the artifact whose possession marked the current Dragon Lord. She was yelling at him. “Greenwood Scorcher! You lazy lizard! Wake Up!”. She was tiny, and very blue - like when he was a hatchling. But he was large now, his real size, very large if not a behemoth - few dragons were behemoths these days - except for Smolder of course. But the pretty yellow dragoness now slept even more than the other big ones. Whack! His nose took another blow.

“Stop it!” he roared at her in his dream.

“It’s coming back!” She shouted at him.

“What?” He asked. Ember looked incredulously at him, scrunched her nose and made a face to speak…

—

Scorcher, the youngest confidant of the Dragon Lord, awoke with a pain in his snout. He had been dreaming of little blue Ember. The large red dragon’s dreams were usually gray, colored like the dark of his cavern was now - a tired dirty haze. But this dream had been different. He sniffed. A single drip of super oxygenated blood ran down his red snout. He smelled rust and brimstone. He wiped his nostril. “What the?” He blinked. “What time is it?” he wondered aloud, looking out at daylight. Early spring probably, judging by the lingering snow and green shoots poking up outside his cave.

Someone, most likely the Kobold servants had kept the place clean and had replenished the hoard he’d nibbled on in his sleep, but they didn’t seem to be around.

Crawling out stiffly he looked over the volcanic plain of the dragon lands. He had a good view from his cavern here near the top edge. Far below the fields and ring of the dragon amphitheater lay. It was the outdoor meeting center of the dragons and had many worn paths across the lava. His prestigious location here above the amphitheater of Dragonholme at the heart of the territory of the Dragon Lands marked him as an important dragon. One of the advisors to the Dragon Lord. Not that she needed much advice with how much sleep she had been getting, sometimes up to a hundred years at a time, and him along with her. Perhaps she had awoken and that was why he was awake?

It was greener than he remembered. And less… volcanic. Rough black smoke swirled overhead but all the lava had crusted over, and only a few fumaroles belched steam and gasses into the air. Far across from him, a path led straight up the mountain to the Dragon Lord’s cavern here in East Lair. Wreathed in smoke and steam it obscured further view. The mountains here at the top of Dragonholme ridge sounded quiet, but the black haze of sleeping dragons was not as thick as it usually was.

Looking down into the bowl of the valley he saw a few other dragons. There were small ones, teenagers most likely, though dragons grew slower these days so they might have been in their twenties or early thirties? He thought he saw one he recognized and started to walk slowly down the path toward her into the valley below the council caverns. He cracked his long neck and twisted his head from side to side, stretching his long dormant limbs.

The dragoness was looking away. Some kobolds had been attending her. He thought it was Ashes, gray and white with pale purple spines and a spaded curled tail. But she was older now. She even had wings! “Hey Ashes! He shouted, “when is it?”

Surprised, the white dragon turned as she saw the much larger red beast of a dragon approaching her from above. Her eyes opened wide, and she shifted slightly. She turned her head away and spoke softly. “Greetings Great Scorcher, Ashes was my mother, I’m ‘Dust’. I am very glad to meet you. We thought you had gone to sleep for good, like the others…”

“For good, eh? Still happening some then?” He stretched his wings and cracked his neck again. A few dragons had fallen asleep and not woken up. Doubtless they would eventually, but usually only the largest slept for more than a century at a time.

“Oh, yes sir, not many of us are awake. The Kobolds tend to them but like you they mostly just sleep and sleep. My own mother is sleeping and hasn’t woken up for two decades now.” The polite dragoness said. She gave a sad look. She was pretty in a mousy sort of way, and so timid!

“Well, how long was I out for?” he said roughly, cracking his neck again and drawing up his height, leaning back and stretching out his spine and wings like a cat waking up.

“I don’t know sir. Several centuries at least I suppose. You’re sort of a famous dragon, Lord Scorcher, the youngest councilor ever. They use your example to teach others that they can still achieve great things even when young Lord Scorcher.”

“Just Scorch or Scorcher is fine. Is Smolder still Dragon Lord?”

“Well, yes. But she's still sleeping. She’s still alive though! We just checked.”

“Hell of a way to rule a kingdom.” He rubbed his eyes and his enormous snout.

Now that he took stock, he realized he had grown… large. Not as large as one of his parent’s generation but twice as large as he had been. From snout to vent the rather large dragoness was half his size.

His stomach rumbled emptily. “Is there anything to eat?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh yes sir, lots, er, that is if you don’t mind loot.”

“Loot?”

“Well yes, treasure from empty hordes. We mine hardly at all these days, so many dragons have passed. Food is always in claws reach. And don’t worry, there's barely any smell way up here. We have the kobolds bury the carcasses and wash the gems.”

Scorcher was appalled, and he thought it showed on his face. “Er-l, just how many dead dragons are we talking about here?”

“Well on Dragonholme alone there are at least thirty vacant hordes, all over the dragon lands there must be thousands. The kobolds have cleaned all the ones here but they're so small and there are so many of us, it's quite beyond them even given time. They bury them when they pass, a few a year at least. But, well they’re everywhere.”

He was shocked. “I’m shocked.” Scorcher said.

“Please come with me sir, the other drakes will want to meet you. It’s been so long.”

As they walked down the path periodically Dust would ring a metal plate. These were placed along the path to either side. She rang each of the enormous bells loudly. They tended to get a bit bigger as they went down. Dragons were making their way to the amphitheater, some with short glides, but most chose to walk.

A few small kobold servants scampered away from the dragons as they walked. The colorful little dragonish lizards were quite numerous. They wore satchels and vests with pockets or tail bags, and some had slings and small knives. They were useful servants and attentive usually, but they scampered at the edges of the dragons, staying out of their way. Scorcher was not used to seeing so many together.

He let Dust lead him down into the sheltered grotto of the amphitheater. The dragons had all quietly gathered. It was quiet. Too quiet for juvenile dragons. Looking at the closest he realized these little ones weren’t teenagers. Some had leathery wrinkles, multiple frill horns and the spots of advanced age. These dragons were in their second or third century at least! Only a single orange fellow was larger than Dust. None of the Kobold servants were there. The dragons spoke quietly amongst themselves murmuring and looking at him. There were only five hatchlings that he counted.

Something is very wrong, he thought.

“Where are the Kobolds?'' he asked.

One of the dragons, a cyan old one with strabismus who reminded Scorcher of a gray mail mare he had once met, replied.

“We don't let the slaves come down into the speaking circle.”

“Slaves? Servants you mean.”

“I mean what I say. The alicorns are dead and gone. Dragons rule here and kobolds do what we say. What difference does it make?”

Scorcher inadvertently growled. “ALL THE DIF…!”, he stopped, realizing he was shouting when the other dragons all crouched down.

He started again, forcing himself calmer. Anger never helped. He drew his claw across his breast like his pony teacher Starlight had taught, pushed out his frustrations and annoyance and breathed out coolly. “All the difference in the world. We are dragons. Dragons don’t keep slaves. We do not enslave anyone; we are not diamond dogs! And kobolds are dragons - of a sort. They are supposed to be our friends and our responsibility. They are our cousins, and…” he searched his memory for the term “…’attendants’. They swore oaths to serve us. Willingly, not as slaves.”

“As you say, great one” she replied. Scorcher felt patronized but her words were respectful if not her tone. He let the matter drop for now. He remembered arguing with Smolder and Ember about the dragon hood of Kobolds.

He looked over the thirty-three dragons. He counted them twice while he thought of what to say. They looked at him expectantly.

The sun shone directly down upon him, but the wind was cold. “Where are the older dragons, the bigger drakes?”

A young green hatchling with purple spines that reminded Scorcher of an inverted Dragon Lord Spike, not yet at his first molt, opened his snout and replied. “This is all of us. All that is awake I mean.”

“What here in the valley?”

Dust looked at him and tilted her head sadly, “Scorcher, you misunderstand.” said Dust waving her delicate clawed hand to indicate all the dragons. “No. These are all the dragons in the world.”

Scorcher felt his stomach drop. Thirty-three.

5. Delegates and Options

“It seems these equine servants are ancestors of ponies, zebras and arabians. They were as large as a saddle arabian. The wear on bones and teeth show they were long lived. Perhaps less specialized than unicorns but apparently magically stronger.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

5. Delegates and Options

After Scorcher got over THAT disquieting revelation, he started asking questions. A horrifying picture became clear. Dragons were not waking up. Hatchlings were not being born each year. Dragons were growing smaller and smaller. No one had left the East Lair for the migrations in living memory.

“It's the magic, it has to be,” he said. “The ponies said many sad things would happen when the magic went away. But they never said anything about this.”

Dust looked at him. “My mother said something similar. She said our ancestors' fire could melt steel, and we could swim in lava! Can you imagine?” She looked at Scorcher with a slightly wistful and dreamy expression.

Scorch could. He himself had enjoyed swimming in liquid rock, buoyant and joyfully paddling about. Dragons sometimes sank in water, but with lava they had no such problem. Plus, it kept the scales clean! “What can I do?” he asked quietly.

“We want you to help us if you can… or offer some hope...” Dust said.

“How?” he asked. It seemed so impossible. The dragons looked so dejected. Wretched. The looked at each other or looked away.

Grimly nodding, Scorcher knew what to do. They need a goal, and a leader, he thought. Well drama came easily to dragons. When he was a young drake at Twilight’s school, Scorcher had always gotten high marks in rhetoric and debate. Plus, Scorcher prided himself in always attacking problems head on.

He flexed his wings and talons, standing on one foot with his claws in the air. Rampant the griffons had called it, a pose to get attention and to show how serious and dangerous he was.

“The magic is still here,” he declared. “It's in us. We sleep for decades or centuries because of it! If it was not, we would… die.” he finished lamely, the spines between his shoulders settled as he set his foot back down.

“Many have.” said the biggest drake, the orange one.

“But not everyone Searcher, and not all at once,” said Dust.

“Some like Smolder seem to sleep well for centuries, but never wake. Others die right after they start napping.” voiced the old cyan dragoness.

“I know Miss Drizzle” replied Searcher. “But it’s getting worse. More and more seem to have seizures when sleeping or just die. Two just last moon!”

That was disheartening news. Remembering something Scorch asked “The ones who passed on. Did they… did they have many friends?”

“Well, no, I don't think so, not even family - at least no one seemed particularly broken up when they passed.” Dust said, resting down on a basalt bench near the center of the ring. “We are not known for being very affectionate after all, Dragons I mean.”

Scorcher considered, then spoke. “There was a purple pony. Twilight Sparkle, an alicorn princess. They called her the princess of friendship. She said that friendship was what powered magic. So, it makes sense that dragons without many friends might have lost their magic and passed on.”

“That sounds stupid” Searcher said, grimacing.

Scorcher snorted. “No, it sounds ‘pony’. They were all about friendship and even had a song about it. Made me learn it in school. They sang it every year. Claimed it made some ice monsters called Win-dingoes run away.”

The shadows had drawn longer.

“We could ask them, I guess, send a delegate to the Tower in Canterlot, or send a letter.” He turned right and looked towards the northwest. Of course, from here the great spire of Canterhorn would not be visible, two thousand kilo lengths away. But the fine line of shadow, the sky touching Harmony Tower cast should have been visible. “Sparkle’s Folly” was always visible. It was missing. Scorcher frowned. “Where is the tower?”

“What is a delegate?” asked Dust.

“You don’t know what a delegate is?”

Dust smiled and shook her head. The pretty frills framing her narrow jaw fluffed out. The light glinted off her purple spines. Scorcher suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. He turned his eyes away, turning to address the others.

“Well, every year we would send someone on our behalf; usually a leader on the council, but never the Dragon Lord to the tower in Canterlot. To you know, make sure they knew we were keeping up our end of the bargain. Staying out of pony lands, keeping the peace, making sure things stayed quiet.”

“Why was that?” asked the orange Searcher. He was a tiny bit bigger than Dust with light blue spines.

“Well,” said Scorcher “it’s because there was this big bad - thing that happened, long ago and… worlds away, well we knew that this… danger, these terrible things called Nightmares would come here. To Equis I mean. To keep us safe we had to stop it at once, and we did. But it cost us, everyone I mean, our magic. The magic just kind of faded out for most creatures. But it was on purpose. Every creature worried the Nightmares might come back. To stop them for good we had to do without magic. We had to do it, to keep our magic low. Every critter agreed to it. Ponies, Griffons, Yaks, Changelings, Diamond Dogs, and others. Even the speaking monsters. They all sent delegates to Canterlot to work things out. We used to send a delegate every year, then every couple of years, then once a decade.”

“No one in the dragon lands has left for thousands upon thousands of moons,” said Drizzle, the old cyan one who had called kobolds slaves.

Dust continued for her “It was the last thing Smolder commanded. We were to keep to ourselves. She inscribed it on a stone right outside the High Hall and used her power as Dragon Lord and her magic to make us obey.”

Scorcher shook his head in the negative. “It must have been after I went to sleep the last time.”

Drizzle looked at Scorcher with her left eye, her right fixed on Dust. “That tower thingy fell. A long time back. I wasn’t awake for that. But my sire was. Said it caused some big fights before Smolder put her foot down and took her nap. Everything quieted down when visitors stopped coming.”

Scorcher was even more upset. “Well, this can’t go on, someone has to do something.”

A cold wind blew through the valley. The sun was starting to set. “Well, this bites.” Scorcher stated flatly.

“Bites?” Asked the smallest of the five hatchlings, a little white wyrmling.

“That means it's bad Taillie.” Search, the orange drake offered.

Scorcher swallowed audibly. “I’ll go speak to Smolder.”

Dust exclaimed “No Scorcher! She’s sleeping, she’s been sleeping for longer than you! She might hurt or even kill you. You know how angry dragons get when they’re forced to wake. I’ve seen it once before, it's terrible. It gets much worse the bigger you get and the longer you sleep!”

“Well, if I die, then after I’m dead you can tell her to rescind her order. It’s a stupid order. I’m looking around here and it's plain to see if we don’t do something... there won’t be any dragons for her to wake up to. We have to get help.” Scorch said.

“What help?” asked the old cyan Drizzle with her strange eyes. “From the little horse critters or others? No one here has even laid eyes on another critter, except for that crazy bull thing.”

“Minotaur” Search supplied quietly.

“Right, that. And that was a hundred moons ago. She just came walking on through one afternoon. Didn’t stay long.”

“Not even a pegasus or a griffon flying through?”

“No one flies anymore,” said Dust sadly.

“Is it true, we could really fly once, not just glide?” asked the one called Taillie. “I thought it was just made up.”

“Of course, you can fly, don’t any of you fly?” Scorcher said.

They all shook their heads no.

He flapped his wings. But the air refused to bite. “Scratch this,” he said.

6. Smolder

“Diamond Dogs abandoned writing long ago. The mining of gems they neither spend nor use is well known. To this Vault Keepers add ancestral duties to preserve their ancient vaults. They have many legends but the core of them all is the dawn war.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

6. Smolder

Mournful and angry, Scorcher started away from the speaking circle. Dust had tried to convince him not to go, but Scorcher was determined. Dust and the others turned away and refused to watch as he walked straight up the mountain path of Dragonholme towards the halls of the council and Smolder’s cave. No dragon followed. His stomach grumbled again reminding him he still hadn't eaten.

Kobolds poked their heads up and out from beyond the edges of the amphitheater as he strode past. Several followed for a while, but most stopped. A single bright green kobold continued to follow him. She was probably working as a hunter, with a knife and pointy stabbing stick.

Pausing, he looked down at the large bright green kobold female, a young adult a bit larger than the height of a Dragon hatchling. Big for a kobold, though the females tended to be a bit larger. She had been following him all the way up from the circle. “Can you speak?” he asked.

“Yes, yes of course great dragon sir!”, the small creature said, bright orange eyes wide. It viewed him with a rapt gaze, panting slightly from the steep climb. She was about a fortieth of his length tip to tail. Kobolds always seemed so anxious when dragons addressed them.

Scorcher was looking for a witness, and this one would do. “Well, follow me then please” he said pausing, “Hey”’ he said, “what’s your name?”

“Rizi, Rizi is Rizi great dragon sir.” she stammered.

“It’s nice to meet you Rizi. I am Greenwood Scorcher, counselor to the Dragon Lord.” He turned and resumed walking.

The small green lizard smiled and bowed at him and made to follow. “Nice to meet great dragon, Rizi comes.” She scampered after him using the stick to help leap small crevices in the stone as he resumed his climb. Rizi was quite fast for a kobold.

Scorcher walked past the boulder outside the door and on through the doors into the mountain. He walked through empty greeting rooms and into the high hall of the council, passing the empty stone couches and chairs straight through to the arched entrance to the Dragon Lord’s hall - the great hoard chamber. Kobolds outside paused in their cleaning and housekeeping tasks to watch. He ignored them and strode past.

“Rizi, stand over here by the entrance. When Smolder wakes up, our words should be audible from here. If things go… poorly, I want you to go back down, find a dragon and tell them whatever you hear. Er, I might not be able to come back myself.” The little green kobold nodded.

Turning around he boldly strolled through the open doors to the hall of the Dragon Lord. Smolder lay atop an enormous pile of gold and gems. She was a bit larger than the last time he had seen her. She was as large as Torch had been. Larger even.

Lying on her back, she grasped the Bloodstone Scepter, the ancient symbol of draconic authority tightly in one claw. The primeval magical artifact was said to have been created by the first Dragon King and Dragon Lord to mark the leaders of all dragons. A later Dragon King had betrayed the dragons and for his tyranny had been locked in Tartarus for all time. There were only Dragon Lords now.

“Am I really going to do this?” Scorcher asked himself. He was large now, maybe not as large as a fully-grown dragon, but the yellow Smolder was enormous. She dwarfed him. He thought he knew how the kobolds felt when confronted with a dragon his size. He felt anxious. He might be large, but he had no illusions that if she woke up from her sleep in a rage that he would be in real trouble.

‘I guess I really am doing this’, he thought. The red dragon breathed in deeply.

“Smolder, time for you to wake up!” he said loudly. There was no response. Of course.

“Hey Smolder, wake up.” he shouted even louder and closer. She still didn’t stir or even change her breathing. He walked up and gently prodded her on the shoulder. Still there was no response. Scorcher kept telling her to wake up, shaking and poking her harder and harder. Finally, he shook her bulk as hard as he could, but she remained asleep. He even tried yelling right at her tympanum.

He decided to try another tactic that would usually wake even the sleepiest dragons up. “OK Smolder, if I can’t get you to wake up by shaking you or yelling at you, what if I just stole some of your treasure hoard? Huh what if I just started eating these gems? Would that actually wake you up?” Still, she did not move as he grabbed clawfuls of her gems and began to swallow them dramatically and noisily as they spilled out from both sides of his snout. Munch, munch, munch, crunch, crunch, crunch, went yellow gold and sparkling gems. Still, she made no moves - if anything her sleep became deeper. “Oh, this is ridiculous, you should be waking up and kicking my tail. Get up!” He shook her, beat on her, punched her, and slapped her in the face with his tail, even poked her in her heavily lidded eye, but nothing he did roused her from her slumber.

“Fine Smolder, if that’s the way it’s going to be you’re not fit to be Dragon Lord! Come out here and do your job! Wake up you darn lizard!”

Exhausted from his attempts to wake her he sat down and thought. “Someone else is going to have to be Dragon Lord. I think that someone’s going to be me.” He boldly walked over to her gigantic, clawed hand and began to try to prize the magical Bloodstone Scepter from it. To his surprise it came away easily. Her claw opened. And he took the scepter in both claws and stepped back. Smolder stretched her now empty clawed hands out.

Startled at the motion Scorcher stared at her, having suddenly come to his senses. Realizing where and what he was doing, a cool wash of adrenaline flooded his system. He prepared to flee for his life. With the magic gone he couldn’t even fly to get away!

In his imagination he saw a justly angry giant yellow Dragon Lord that had been insulted, stolen from, and punched awake tearing into him. She likely knew and remembered everything that happened around her in her sleep. After all, he remembered everything that happened around him when he slept, and Smolder was no doubt just the same.

Smolder turned and with her enormous now empty claw grasped a pile of coins, gems and other golden objects and dropped them into her mouth, she swallowed twice convulsively and without waking turned back over, shook her head once, swallowed a final time and then lay back asleep.

Scorcher stood next to her. As moments stretched to minutes, she remained lying quietly upon her gigantic horde and began to snore again, black smoke wafting up from her internal fires.

“Too much time with ponies” he said. What had he been thinking?

Still shaking from his scare, Scorcher took the scepter, had one last glance at the beautiful if dangerous sleeping dragoness and slowly walked back out of the caverns.

The tiny bright green kobold was sitting there by the door. Her eyes were wide, and she stared up at him intently. He looked at the kobold and said, “Did you hear all that?” Rizi nodded.

Scorcher said, “Well she didn’t contest it, so I think that makes me Dragon Lord.”

The kobold looked up at him with awe in her eyes. She spoke “So brave, great dragon Scorcher, bravest ever!”

After a moment she went on “Bravest dragon, ever seen, even hear of.” said the kobold worshipfully.

Scorcher nodded. “Sure, brave let's go with that.” ‘Stupid is more like it’ he thought. “Let’s head back.” he said, his heartbeat finally slowing.

7. Names and Titles

“The keepers say that an accident created the first alicorn and that she somehow created her sister, a second alicorn. The two alicorns were unbelievably strong magically and they led slave alicorns to rebel. The rebellion spread to the griffons and somehow that precipitated a war that ‘destroyed the world’. This would seem fanciful, but there is evidence that ties to this story.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

7. Names and Titles

As she followed him, he commented conversationally, “A while back, Rizi, your nickname, that was a lot for a kobold to go by, four letters. I remember your All-Watcher Gazer long ago had the longest Kobold name. And that was only 5.”

“All-watcher seven, most four to six.” After a moment she added “Rizi quiet child, Namer named her well.” She smiled. “Short for Green, Cute and Prizing Quiet.”

Scorcher chuckled and smiled down at her.

“Kobold names are long, friends make short.” She smiled back.

Well, that was different. Scorcher grinned and thought that at least some creatures' self-esteem had improved while he’d been sleeping.

“I'm glad I didn't get stuck with Greenwood. That just sounds inexperienced.”

“Rizi is glad not stuck with Cute.”

Rizi thought it was probably too soon to tell but she liked Scorcher. A dragon that spoke to kobolds instead of simply commanding them and who was interested in them. It was a nice change from draconic disdain or the more traditional taken for granted. If this was the change the seers had seen, it was welcome.

They passed down the hill toward the circle. Kobolds gathered as he walked by. Their eyes followed the small Rizi beside him. He motioned with the scepter and bade them to follow him, and together he soon gathered a few dozen of the smaller creatures. The dragons were still in the circle when he returned. He led the kobolds that had been following into the circle.

Dust and the others looked confused at first. Clenched in his scaly fist he raised the Bloodstone Scepter high. Muttering and murmuring began.

Drizzle said “Do these Kobolds need to be here? They’re not smart enough to understand what is going on, they should go back to their warrens.”

Rizi and the others looked at each other and prepared to leave.

“This concerns them. I asked them to be here.”

Drizzle looked at him with one mismatched eye. Her dark yellow spines lay down on either side of her cyan back ridges giving her an unhappy appearance. At last, she challenged him directly saying “That stick doesn't make you Dragon Lord. When there's a new Dragon Lord there are signs. I know. I remember the stories of when Smolder was crowned, and Spike and Ember before her. There’s magic to it. Without that it’s just a stick.”

He growled at her. “Well, I say I'm a Dragon Lord. Does anyone else want to try and take this?” He snarled. Everyone looked down or away. “‘We are sending a delegate to Canterlot - Tower or not, and we are going to do everything we can to save ourselves. Even if it means leaving the Dragon lands!”

Drizzle and a few others prepared to retort when there was a sharp snap and flash in the sky northwest behind Scorcher. The kobolds and the smaller dragons ducked and hunched down.

A wave of radiant rainbow ribbons of light spread over the sky, past Scorcher, through him and towards the other dragons. He was filled with power and rose twice his height into the air. All the dragons glowed brightly, and kobolds glowed dimly as well. The Bloodstone Scepter lit up with a flame from within that erupted from either end. The sky was filled with waving streams of light as a rainbow shockwave rolled across the landscape.

The caldera rocked from side to side and erupted in a dozen places as fires burst forth from far underground. Filled with fiery energy and draconic might Scorcher roared into the sky blasting his fire high into the air. He screamed and landed hard, his wings biting at the last second as the impact shook the amphitheater. Every dragon and kobold bowed on the ground prostrating themselves before him.

Variations of “All Hail Scorcher the New Dragon Lord!” were shouted throughout the amphitheater as the kobolds and dragons yelled.

None were louder than the old dragoness Drizzle who shouted, “It is a sign!”

As Scorcher settled back down, he said. “The magic - I can feel it. It's back.”

Joyfully weeping and crying out the assembled dragons whooped and hollered. Suddenly able to fly, several took wing followed by others until every dragon that could fly was joyously sweeping through the air on suddenly functional wings, crisscrossing in concentric circles. Hatchlings stared up at the night sky amazed, and those on the ground ran around in excitement as the crowd in the air and on the ground roared and flames of joy filled the air.

Scorch looked upon the spectacle and wondered. ‘What does it mean?’

8. Bridlewood

Once upon a time, many, many moons ago, in ancient Equestria, there lived a very special Unicorn.

—C. Star, S. Lunamoon “Commentaries on the Friendship Reports of T. Sparkle Vol. 1”

8. Bridlewood

Bridlewood was in a musical mood. Singing and celebrations were happening throughout the woodland home of the unicorns, and the normally dull and dour unicorns were smiling and dancing. Children were having fun in the park despite the late hour. The little brown colt Full Deck was happily playing on a sea saw by himself, levitating and lowering the seesaw, as Brilliant Reflection and her daughter Sunlit Reflection swung themselves by their horns laughing uproariously. Fire Blossom and Cotton Blossom played catch with balls they could grab in magical auras and toss back and forth, dropping them as often as catching them. Entire new realms of play had opened on the playground as fillies and colts dashed back and forth laughing and playing. Glowing horns, crystals, fungus, and the sky above provided plenty of illumination.

Blue Blossom had amused herself by picking up the colts and flying them zipping around each other. She had even levitated herself briefly. She could manage about twelve seconds of her own weight before almost collapsing but found she could recover completely in just a few minutes. She could keep the colts aloft for nearly thirty.

The unicorn mare Blue Blossom stared up into the evening sky. Magical sheets of light wove back and forth over the sky, twisting and shimmering. Her horn glowed softly, blue like her namesake and her eyes. It was amazing. She wasn’t doing anything, just sending undirected magic through her crystalline appendage. It felt amazing. It was as if she had been wearing a blindfold her whole life and simply removed it, or like she had been deaf and could suddenly hear, or touch or taste, or smell. It was a sixth sense, something she had never known she was missing and that now suddenly an inexplicably was part of who and what she was, and always had been. Like noticing suddenly, you had a certain eye color or face shape. Always there but now known.

She felt an itching on her right side. Blue Blossom looked at her light blue rump. Where her cutie mark of a blue eye surrounded by small stars had been ever since she was a filly. It marked a special talent, an inherent skill she could excel at. She remembered getting it. It had appeared one evening when she was looking up at the night sky wondering what all the beautiful stars and constellations were and what they all meant. That night had been a lot like this one. Clear but full of magic and mystery. It was the only magical thing that had ever happened in her life. Even the word ‘magic’ had been forbidden. Probably to banish a subject too painful for the unicorns to discuss.

But now ‘magic’ was back. Blue Blossom knew this would change her world in unexpected ways. Her foal brothers Fire Blossom and Cotton Blossom were still throwing the ball racing back and forth and laughing, trouble free. She sighed and looked up into the heavens again. The night was clear. Fate and harmony were proceeding if not to a grand design, then to the strong currents of destiny. The circles followed by the celestial objects were obvious. The ellipses, orbits and epicycles of the heavens, the apparent retrograde motions of the planets and their interrelationships to everyone and everything were clear. It was all interconnected. There and here, in fundamental ways, ways, holistic ways Blue Blossom was suddenly and inexplicably aware of.

The moon was leaving Taurus and entering Immortales Alicornis. It was time to leave her comfort zone and embrace change. The position of the 6th planet indicated tomorrow would be a good day to try something new and experimental. But the 2nd planet clearly indicated that while the need for fun and security could cause conflict she should hold out for a good outcome.

The constellations showed that a hero had been chosen for Harmony. Once already, soon to be twice and later thrice. Thrice blessed, a knight to seek the sea and fly to Canterlot on griffon wings to confront Regina Glacies, an immortal queen with a heart of ice and wake her from nightmare renewed. So long as the agent of harmony arrived in time, victory was assured.

Glancing down at her brothers and back up she could clearly see that Cotton Blossom should watch out for Thin Ice, they would get into a big fight. And Fire Blossom… Fire Blossom… Fire Blossom was smoke. Hard to look at. Sadness. Pain. Tragedy. Flames… and …Death.

9. Forced Landings

“All over the word at an identical depth and age in the rock there is a layer of ash and strange heavy metals, and fossil markers for extremely cold weather. Geologists half-jokingly call it the dawn marker, thought by some to be the residue of that war. Above the marker are found fossils of griffons, unicorns, earth ponies, pegassai, dragons, felids, yaks, buffalo, zebras, diamond dogs, kirin, and many others but suddenly none of the apparent alicorns.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

9. Forced Landings.

That evening the new Dragon Lord headed for the dragon halls. Scorcher had checked immediately but the other dragons nearby had not awoken. Kobolds swirled about him, and the occasional dragon flew back and forth in the valley of their caldera home.

He sat heavily upon a stone couch in the council hall that led to the still sleeping Smolder.

As the impromptu celebration died down, Scorcher asked the kobolds to hang draperies between the entrance to the hall of the council and doorway to the chamber of the slumbering dragoness.

Unsure of what to do next, Scorcher asked the kobolds to summon the dragons to the speaking circle at dawn, and to be there themselves.

He ate lightly, and chatted with Rizi, kobolds and the occasional dragon as the night wore on.

Rizi began to relax as she continued talking to Scorcher. He spoke to her kindly and with patience, and she had become quite loquacious; she asked him questions about anything and everything.

When asked, he said he didn’t know how long he’d slept. He asked her what year it was. She asked what he meant by what year it was. He had to explain that it was a record of the moons and seasons to both her and more surprisingly the dragons.

They had simply not been keeping a calendar, relating years to their own personal experiences. None of the dragons knew or seemed to understand why it mattered. The latest date he could find was carved on a coin from a mere hundred and sixty years after he went to sleep. Scorcher guessed that they had other concerns and that time had just been passing them by as it sometimes did with dragons, faster and faster, the years blurring together.

Scorcher walked on all four legs from his hall and paused beside Smolder’s giant stone marker. There, written in letters taller than a juvenile dragon were the words “By the will of Smolder: No dragon may leave the valley, ever for any reason.”

Smirking to himself he breathed in deeply and then let loose a fiery blast to melt the obsolete words from the rock. To his surprise the words remained. What in the world? he asked himself. Some magic? “What's this? He asked?” rubbing the surface of the cool stone.

No matter. He turned and walked the broad steps that led downward. Stretching his wings, he flew down to the amphitheater. Stopping at the edge of the circle he pulled the chain ringing the largest bell loudly seven times. He thought the kobolds would appreciate that.

The other dragons looked at him attentively. The kobolds, unused to being included in these surroundings, tried to find places to sit over behind between and amongst the great fire wyrms. The hatchlings sat in the center. Kobolds of course had vision that was bad in the day, and they tried to sit with the sun to their back to watch the proceedings.

After a few cursory remarks and some basic discussion of the need to get help, Scorcher was beginning to become frustrated with his fellow dragons. When Drizzle told him flat out that he couldn’t leave, his patience finally snapped.

“I’m going to Canterlot. Personally. This is going to break an agreement we had with the ponies. But the circumstances cause it to be necessary. “

“But Scorcher you can’t leave.” Dust said.

“Watch me.” Without stopping or even looking back he leapt into the air headed West and North. Voices rose in protest and question, kobolds scattered in all directions. Dust and Searcher took off after him, but they were new to flying and he left them behind him as he rolled in the air and beat his wings powerfully. He felt great, confident, full of power and energy. The sun began to rise higher behind him, and the world was lit with a warm morning glow.

The two smaller dragons were shouting at him, but he ignored them for the moment. Yes, everything glowed in the morning light. He smiled to himself and soared up and up. Approaching the mountain ridge that marked the border to the dragon lands he felt a tingling from the Bloodstone Scepter still clutched in his front claws. It was hard to put down. He kept picking it up and after a while gave up and just took it with him. As he swept up the mountainsides the two pursuing dragons shouted at him to wait. But he ignored them, flying faster even as they closed on him.

Flying up the center of the near vertical face between the mountains he saw below him the broad stone road that led straight through the pass to the Celestial Sea and beyond that, the pony capital. He would be there by dusk the following evening at this rate. He felt he could fly forever.

As he crested over the Mountains that marked the edge of their domain, Scorch looked back out over the hills and valleys leading to the Eastern Lair of the Dragon Range and smiled. Dusk and Search had almost caught up. ‘I’ll lead them all the way to Canterlot’, he thought.

Without warning and flying at full speed, Scorcher suddenly hit an invisible barrier. The barrier flashed and blazed in blue lightning. Scorcher was blinded in agony.

The big red dragon felt intense pain as electricity ran along his body. The blue rubbery wall of force flung him away from the dent he had made in it. His vision was whited out and his scales smoked. Scorcher was almost rendered unconscious by the tremendous pain.

He began to fall towards the valley and the rocks below. Dust and Search grabbed his arms and legs, the powerful orange drake snagging his torso and the white dragoness managed his lower half. Together the three of them flailed/flew to the rocks below landing heavily. They lay there among the stones of the road. The Bloodstone Scepter clattered on the ground still clutched in his claw.

“You can’t”, she panted heavily “leave”.

“No dragon can,” said Search, breathing and wheezing.

Scorch's vision began to clear. He looked back towards the caldera at the distant mountain and Dragonholme.

“Smolder?”

“Smolder”

“It's a shield?”

“Yes, it is said that a prince of the ponies taught her.”

Scales still smoking slightly Scorch smiled ruefully. “Yes. Shining Armor. Smolder showed me once. She learned to teleport things she could burn with her breath, and she learned shields. But this. This is impossible, he said. It's so big.”

“Smolder said she used most of her remaining magic, erecting it. Every dragon says that’s why she’s still sleeping. You knew her well back then?” asked Search. His orange scales were scuffed and scratched by the rocks.

“Yes, when we were smaller. We grew up together. She was older than I was, but she went to a school the ponies had back then. She was the first. Ember sent her. I went there with others the year after.”

“They say she powers it in her sleep - it won't stop till she wakes.” remarked Dust, her filthy white and gray hide covered in her namesake. All her pretty lavender spines were askew.

“Scratch. Scratch and Bite.” said Scorcher.

10. Utility Lizard

“One can see in the earlier fossil record, diamond dog fossils all over the world, as are alicorns, though less numerous, and griffons less numerous still. Before then of course is the ‘abbreviated evolution’ or ‘intelligent design’, a short period geologically speaking when speciation seemed to occur in mere generations which suddenly ended when diamond dogs, alicorns and a bit latter, griffons emerged. After the dawn marker one can see large gems of all sorts, and the profusion of species we see on Equis today.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

10. Utility Lizard

That evening back at the caldera of Dragonholme Scorcher sat on one of the larger stone chairs in the high hall. Smaller dragons stood around in the hall or sat listening to Scorcher talk with Dust, Search, Drizzle, and the others in the council chamber. The five dragon hatchlings played in the center while kobold caregivers watched attentively.

A tan and red kobold, Wind was part of a trio rubbing Scorcher’s sore neck and spine stopped her work. Rain, a small red and tan male of similar size and shape took her place. Other kobolds had washed his scales and those of his companions and they tried to scrub the new black marks from his body. The soot was much reduced.

Scorcher seethed silently. His joints ached everywhere. The lightning shield had been brutally effective.

Rizi walked in quietly, carrying a large plate. The other kobolds had been treading lightly around her now. They deferred to her and let her direct their work. Probably because she was talking to the Dragon Lord.

The plate Rizi carried held sorted piles of rubies and sapphires. She walked behind the table slab before the dragons.

“As long as the spell is in place, no dragon can leave.” Dust said.

“I can't wake her up. I'm not killing my friend.” Scorcher said.

“No one is asking you to.” Dusk said. She swished her tail and shook her frill. “It would break the spell though.”

“I am aware.”

Scorcher looked at Rizi. The kobold was small. Barely taller than a pony. The gems on the plate rattled enticingly as she set down the tray.

No dragon. “Rizi, can Kobolds leave the dragon lands?” He asked.

“Dragons all live here, so why, go?”

“What if I asked you to leave?”

“Why would Dragon Lord send kobolds away?” The tiny green Kobold looked rather upset. The other kobolds all paused and waited for Scorcher to speak. Rizi’s orange eyes started to shimmer.

“Rizi I'm not sending anyone away, well not all. Just one. And just for a short time.

“I need someone brave, who can go to Canterlot. No dragon can, but if a minotaur can cross that shield, I bet a kobold can. Could a kobold do that for me Rizi?”

She blinked and smiled at once. “Scorcher can trust kobold Rizi, yes, yes.”

“That's… very good. What I have in mind is not very hard. I just need to deliver a message. And to get a reply.”

“Rizi knows, kobolds all learn letters, yes.”

“Not a letter. Lots of letters, a message written down. On paper.”

Rizi tilted her head. “No paper, rock, walls, slate or sand. Rizi sorry but no paper great dragon.”

“Rizi. The message is important. I could teach it to you. You’d have to memorize it exactly.”

“Rizi, good memory for words, yes, yes.” Clasping her claws in front of her the little green kobold stood with her back straight, her orange eyes looking almost straight up, her two ivory horns almost touching her back. She looked attentively at the much larger reptile. The small bright green lizard smiled up at him.

Scorchers smiled toothily at that. “Oh really, Rizi, what did I say to you yesterday? When we met?” He was thinking of the game ‘courier’ from his childhood when dragons would whisper and pass a message around a circle. He wondered how badly it would be mangled.

“Will never forget, great Scorcher honor Rizi. Speak first among all kobolds, great honor.” The small green lizard smiled up at him, her light green eye ridges crinkling… “Yes, Dragon Lord to be Scorcher say...”, her voice changed, and grew deep and powerful. “Can you speak? Well, follow me then please. Hey, what’s your name? It’s nice to meet you Rizi. I am Greenwood Scorcher, counselor to the Dragon Lord. Rizi, I want you to…” she continued her perfect narration. Scorcher was startled. She spoke in a perfect parroting of his voice, almost like a recording, but only his side of the conversation and with no pauses.

“Ok, ok wow, that’s enough. Er Rizi if you can speak like that…. well, why do you talk like you do?”

“Why kobolds speak like they do, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Kobolds help dragons, want be like, yes? Kobold, speak as a dragon, mock, offend.”

“And just now?”

“Dragon says say and so Rizi do.”

“Huh…”

Dust smiled at Rizi’s explanation to Scorcher. The little kobold stared up at him with adoration, her spines almost touching her back, orange eyes gazing into slate ones. The dusty white dragoness was introspective. The other dragons all seemed a bit surprised. Her scaley brow wrinkled in thought she spoke to no one in particular, or to everyone. “Scorcher treats Kobolds as if they were tiny dragons.”

“Kobolds have surprising depth Dust, and little Rizi here in particular I think.” said Scorcher. He went on, “I met them many years ago when they first came to Equis. They came here seeking sanctuary from Otherside. They were rare. Now there are so many.”

“Kobolds no more or less, less dragons.” asserted Rizi.

“That’s what Drizzle says Rizi. Kobolds linger and dragons dwindle.” The white dragoness shook her head sadly and looked at the larger red drake. She hesitantly asked “Scorcher, you have lived a long time. Do you actually know where kobolds came from, really, I mean?”

“Yes, but why don’t you ask them?”

“I have, but I couldn't follow them. I didn't understand it. No offense Rizi.” Rizi looked at Dust, smiled and nodded.

Scorcher stretched and smirked. His muscles were finally relaxing. The male Rain swapped for another kobold, this one a pale pink female. “Rizi, there was a story. It was very short. I wonder if you know it? It was called something like The Kobolds Creed. Do you?”

“Serpents Song and Kobolds Crossing Creed, yes?” asked Rizi.

Scorch nodded. He looked out amongst the dragons and kobolds in the hall. “Gather around every dragon. I mean kobolds too and hear this. It is our common history.”

The tiniest dragons gathered closer. The white Tally sat in front next to Dust. A few dozen kobolds sat amongst the hatchlings. The other dragons present walked closer. Story time in the high hall was evidently not to be missed.

“Please tell us the Creed of the Kobolds Rizi.” The short version.” Scorcher said.

“Forty-nine words short, short, yes, yes!” Rizi looked at the gathered Dragons and Kobolds and spoke in a clear singsong voice loud enough to be heard in the hall:

“The Otherside faeries stole some dragon eggs.
One thousand one dragons became faerie slaves.
Like fairies, small kobolds the dragons became.
Frightened of friendship Fay banished her slaves.
Dragon Lord swore his kobolds to save.
So, kobolds swore dragons to always obey.”

“Well told Rizi. That is how I remember it.” Scorcher smiled, his enormous fangs glittering white. Rizi smiled a toothy smile back at him.

“Remember it?” Dust asked, reaching out a dainty claw to pick out a choice ruby.

“Yes, the kobolds came to the dragon lands seeking asylum when I was a hatchling. They came to Torch when he was Dragon Lord. Said they were hexed to always serve others. They told him their Creed. Made it rhyme at that time too. He gave them sanctuary. They swore oaths to obey dragons. Said they were dragons. It was one of his final acts as Dragon Lord.” He leaned back into his stone chair and idly munched some sapphires. Then continued.

“Ember, who was the Dragon Lord next, Torches tiny daughter, she disagreed, that they were dragons, I mean, not giving them sanctuary. So did Twilight Sparkle, the alicorn of friendship. She said they were about as related to us as ponies are to donkeys or goats. No wings, no fire breath, obsessions with numbers, an innate compulsion to serve others. Torch said it wasn’t up to ponies to decide who was or wasn’t a dragon.”

“And these faeries?”

“The unseelie? Oh, they come from another world, Otherside. Changelings came from there as well. Maybe Discord too. Some other things. The only way to get to it is through a door on the far side of the chain. The unseelie came to Equestria many times in the past, they probably had some other ways to get here. Twilight said they live in a different time than ours. It's related to our time, similar but not uh, congruent. Sometimes the unseelie would know about things from the future or past, things they couldn't really know, but did. Twilight said the fay let the kobolds go because they knew the alicorns were coming.”

Scorcher saw his audience of kobolds and small dragons was attentive and listening. He smiled and began to speak in a narrative voice, thinking fondly of teachers from his days at school.

“In those days the alicorns and their allies sought to spread friendship everywhere, throughout the entire chain of creation, and the fay became afraid.” His voice swelled with pride. “They knew Equestrians would free their slaves and overthrow them. So, they let their captives go and pretended to change and make nice.” Now Scorch made his voice low and terrible. “They knew of the dangers beyond their world but as for the Nexus of Sominus, they said nothing and gave no warning. When the nightmares came, we Equestrians tried to warn the faeries of Otherside, but the door to fairyland had already been shut. That fool’s errand cost lives. Mine was almost among them. The tricks and treachery of the unseelie were thus revealed, but it was too late to stop the Nightmares.”

“What are the Nightmares?” asked the pink hatchling.

“Oh, that was one of their names. They have others, Dark Overlords, Night Hags, Terrors. They were spirits of evil. They infected unicorns, dragons, and others with evil when they could. Even an alicorn once. Occasionally one of them would come to Equis.

“They sought anger and bitterness, offering knowledge and great magical power for tiny favors. But the favors always grew and grew, and the nightmares soon possessed their victims. They could be banished or destroyed but never died on their own. They thrived on misery and hatred. One or two would wander here every few centuries. But opening the Nexus of Sominus let millions pour forth, an army of evil.”

“What was the Nexus of Sominus?” asked Taillie.

Scorcher answered “Oh it was a dark world. Normally worlds like that are rarely encountered on the chain of creation. Worlds like those usually pose no threat but hold no hope for real friendship and harmony. Gates to such places are just locked again. Friendship holds no sway there, and magic is weak or nonexistent. But the Nexus beyond Otherside was different. It was a crossroads to such places. The very heart of darkness. Once that door was opened, the Dark Overlords arrived. The guardians of the chain eventually closed the door and sealed it, but the Nightmares were already loose, and they chased us, Equestrians I mean, all the way back to Equis, destroying everything in their path to get to us before they were finally stopped.

“Apparently opening the door to the Nexus somehow made us more vulnerable to the Nightmares. They no longer had to bargain. Instead, they could just wear another creature’s skin like slipping on a jacket. If you killed the creature they were in, they would just slip out and take another.”

“That's scary,” said Taillie.

“Very. They swiftly overran the worlds farthest from Equis. Almost faster than news could travel. The alicorns stopped them, here at Equis moments from triumph. But the victory of the five alicorns cost almost all of the magic of Equis.”

“So that is why we need answers. How has magic been restored? What happened to the tower? How can we wake up Smolder and leave the dragon lands?” He looked at Rizi. “These are the questions I need answers to. Therefore, I must send a kobold to Canterlot.”

“Rizi, if you are willing, I would send you to Canterlot as my messenger.”

Rizi looked down at the floor. Oh. So, this is what Doriz had meant. All eyes in the hall were upon her. Her tribe was depending on her. So were all the dragons. She slowly looked up all the way to Scorchers eyes. Orange eyes met slate. She swallowed, and gave a tiny, determined nod.

—

Later that evening Dust asked, “Why send just one Kobold?”

“Ponies and many other creatures are skittish, new things scare them. A small army of Kobolds might cause a panic. Just one creature is often ignored, avoided or treated as a curiosity instead of a threat.” Scorcher smiled. “Remind me to tell you about the story of Zecora sometime…”

11. A Walk in the Sunshine

“Now one should note that the celestial alicorns say diamond dogs are not the masters of old. The fossil bones of the diamond dogs are similar if not as diverse as modern diamond dogs. There is no love lost there either. Reportedly the room grew dark, and the moon princess’s hooves cracked the floor whenever diamond dogs were mentioned, and ponies had to back away from the solar princess for fear of their coats bursting into flames. No other fossils of creatures with large craniums have been found. So, it seems the celestial alicorns are not telling the whole truth.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

11. A Walk in the Sunshine.

A week later Rizi and Scorcher stood at the blue barrier on the road to the sea and Canterlot beyond. The lightning crackled and popped in the shield from the dragon's proximity. A gathering of kobolds and dragons stood nearby, Doriz and the all-watcher Tarnish among them. Rain and Wind sat by the dragon hatchlings.

Rizi looked ridiculous, Scorcher thought. She wore a heavy breastplate, chain pony leggings, a helmet with a face shield, heavy griffon gauntlets, an axe on one side, a length long sword strapped to her other side, a pack over her back, a sack, saddlebags, a canteen, various bags, a tail-pack, and a shield. She was straining just standing there.

“Rizi?”

“Yes, yes, what, what, Dragon Lord Scorcher?”

“Did the other kobolds bring all this stuff here and dress you like that?”

Rizi tilted her head, shrugged, and then shook her head.

“The dragons too?”

She nodded.

“Can you even walk?”

Rizi took a step and tried to take another.

She shook her head.

Sighing and chuckling, Scorcher helped her strip out of the gathered gear. In the end the kobolds and dragons dressed her in a light but sturdy steel peytral for her chest upon which they painted a rampant red dragon, a canteen, a tail bag full of food, a small bag of gems and gold bits, and a vest with small pockets containing flint, three vials of postal dragon fire courtesy of Scorch, a map, and compass with a tiny sextant. Atop her head sat a little brown cap hat which had dark red smoked goggles she could use to keep the sun out of her eyes. Slung to her side was a light scabbard that held a small rapier appropriate for her short stature. A pretty dark brown cloak with a green lining and a tiny bed roll completed her gear. She stood lightly with her pointed walking stick.

“You’re sure it is not too heavy?”

She shook her head negatively and walked around showing she could move easily. “Good, good, much lighter for Rizi now.”

“Ok Rizi. Do you know what the most important part of all this is?”

She shrugged and held out the dragon fire vial, bag of bits, her sword and her compass and tilted her head.

“No Rizi”, he said, leaning down and rubbing her bright green head softly, stroking from her scaled brow to her horns. “This is the most important part. You. I don't care about any of this stuff. I just want you to come back safe, ok?”

Rizi smiled up at him. “Understand, Rizi be careful Dragon Lord, yes.”

“Rizi, please just call me Scorch. You are a brave kobold and a good friend. I trust you. So please do, be careful I mean.

“Just stay straight on this road. It's four to six days to the sea, weather permitting. I walked the road several times before my first molt. Then you will have to cross the sea. Hopefully there will be a boat or ferry. Cross the sea to the northwest. You want to aim for Horseshoe Bay or farther north. There are many pony cities beyond the sea. Baltimare, Fillydelphia, Manehatten. All of them have roads straight to Canterlot. You should pass some farms and villages on the way. Tell them you are an envoy of the Dragon Lord, and they should give you any assistance you need. They might even give you an escort. There also might be a train you could take to Canterlot from one of the cities.

“Will try Dragon Lord, back soon.”

The little green kobold in the brown cape and cap turned and walked toward the shield. Scorcher held his breath. She stepped forward and it parted around her like water.

Rizi walked through the gigantic bubble, soon emerging on the far side. She looked back. Rain, Wind, Dust, and the others cheered, but sounded oddly muted. Dragon Lord Scorcher looked on. Searcher with Taillie on his back waved. Rizi waved back and began to walk the road over and through the mountain ridges.

Soon she reached a bend in the road and the others were lost amongst the trees and rocks. Rizi shifted her unfamiliar pack and continued. Her equipment rubbed strangely. She hoped she would get used to it soon. Wind and Rain, her clutch mates and friends had looked so lonely. She knew she would miss them, but she was already on the way. “Well begun is halfway done having fun.” she said. She marched on all morning and soon had reached the downward slope. She stopped beside a small mountain stream and watched the butterflies’ flap by. She ate an egg and a pear, and a butterfly that wandered too close. She stretched her legs and then continued.

Not used to such long exercise her legs soon began to ache and the pack weighed heavily upon her. The bird song and insect buzz made her tired and she stopped again for a snack. There were rocks and stones, plants, and trees, but apart from a rabbit and hawk she saw no one. She rested in the shade and ate a cactus after picking the spines off. A sip from her canteen and a few small beetles snatched from a rock and a grasshopper rounded out her lunch. She was soon on her way again. After another hour and some brief rests in the shade and a dip in a mountain stream she began to become concerned. It was quiet. The only sounds were her steps and her walking stick. It was quieter than it had been all day. She was presently walking through a defilade between two rock walls. Brush covered the tops of both walls more than twice her height above. She suddenly realized she was boxed into a narrow chokepoint. Kobolds were good with traps, and this felt like a trap.

The birdsong had vanished. She stopped walking, suddenly very still. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. The brush behind and to her right rustled. A large insect emerged. It had mandibles and was striped, black along its green body. Its six legs moved at a walking pace along the rocks lining the path above and behind her. Its flat body was wide and shaped like a long spearhead, with its legs closer to its front. Its black eyes regarded her. It was smaller than she was. But not much smaller, and probably just as long. It might weigh more. Probably not. Probably. She took a step back.

It took a step forward.

She took another step back.

It stepped forward again. It clicked its chitinous fangs. The soft bodied insect began to move again.

Rizi aimed her walking stick at its face and reached for her blade with her free claw. She had strapped it on her back rather than wearing it on her side as the belt had chaffed and the scabbard dragged. Now it had shifted on her back, and it was stuck somehow. She struggled to free it without looking.

The insect took a few more steps, as she paced slowly backwards from it trying to maintain her distance. It looked quite fast. She was very tired and hot. Too hot, she wouldn’t be able to run far.

How far would it chase her if she ran?

The handle of the sword was tangled in her backpack. She glanced back.

As soon as she glanced away the creature lunged. It flung itself at her from the rock. Startled, Rizi tripped over her own tail and landed heavily on her backpack, losing her stick as the end of the tangled scabbard jabbed painfully into her side. The bug overshot her by inches.

The insect scuttled around and again jumped surprisingly quickly at her as she struggled, landing heavily on her pelvis and chest, and striking at her face. She grabbed at its long body as it drove it fangs down into her chest biting hard at her peytral. She pushed and kicked with her rear legs, throwing the thing away from her.

“Rizi is not a food nasty bug!” She shouted, scrambling to her feet. The insect soon sorted itself out and turned to face her again.

But now Rizi had struggled free of her backpack and held the scabbard and hilt in front of her, drawing the blade edge free just as the creature scuttled forth again.

She poked at it. It swung its fangs at her. The sword and fangs made clicking sounds as they slid off each other. It was like smacking a bush. The creature moved slightly when struck but continued its advance while she slowly gave way. “Enough bug, Rizi is not giving up!” The path here was slightly wider. She smacked it again and it began to try and circle her.

The bug was not able to follow her turn as fast as she could make it. Soon she had the advantage, and with two swift swipes the battle ended. The bug had been cut nearly in half, and Rizi breathed through her open mouth panting heavily.

She dragged the bug behind her by its tail. As she left the tiny box canyon, she hummed a cheerful tune.

She made camp a little farther on, setting her bed roll down on a high rock with a good view. She walked around a bit with her naked sword and after having checked that there were no tracks or other worrying things proceeded to have a snack.

The bug was disappointingly bland and rubbery. She made a small fire, and after roasting several chunks decided it was not too bad charred after all and finished her meal with cool spring water from her canteen.

Victorious from her battle and stuffed with the spoils she soon fell asleep on her high rock and slept dreamlessly well into the next morning.

A blackbird soon discovered that stealing a Kobolds leftover food was a good way to end up as breakfast yourself.

Rizi was a good hunter. Patient and fast her claws snatched the bird and broke its neck before it could even turn.

The bird, unlike the bug, was delicious raw and Rizi abandoned what was left of the bug. She ate as she packed, pausing only to meditate briefly trying to find the dragon within.

Today the dragon was silent and at last she gave up and made her way to the road and she continued her way in the bright sunlight.

A wildfire had burned much of the underbrush where she stopped for lunch. She smiled. The burned smell reminded her of home. Some berries gathered on the trail and dried meat from her tail pack made for a nice lunch. She straightened out her sword and scabbard that afternoon, changing the belt to a shoulder belt and tying the end to her tail. She practiced drawing with both wither claw. When she took the road, she was satisfied. She had her sword at least well sorted.

That night she found a small shallow cave on a ridge and made a fire in the entrance. Two eggs and some nuts were for dinner.

Besides the hoot of owls and the calls of insects the night was quiet. The stars shone brightly as they moved slowly overhead. Later that night moonbeams lit the cave in a cool light.

Rizi began to dream. At first, she dreamed of meditating, to find the dragon within. It was a strange dream, and the sounds of play distracted her.

At last, she looked up and watched as a magical orange and white creature with a magenta mane, a pony she guessed, with twinkling eyes, glowing translucent wings, and a transparent horn played alongside four other pony friends who each had only one of those things.

She became aware of a presence silently watching behind her. “They are all, really, still just kids and she is so happy to be there with them.”

Rizi looked at a blue Dragonette beside her. She held the Bloodstone Scepter in her claws. Hardly larger than the biggest kobold, hardly larger than Rizi they exchanged looks with one another. “Hi!” the blue Dragon Lord smiled.

12. Dragons Dreams and Questions

“Alicorns can appear from nowhere. This is called ascension. The best-known case is Twilight Sparkle, the final ruler of Equestria. A mere unicorn, she gained wings and doubled her height. Cadance, her sister-in-law, was reportedly once a pegasus. Rumors said Luna and Celestia were reborn as earth ponies, unicorns or pegassai, even thestrals many times. Rubbish of course. Records say Luna was freed of a nightmare spirit by the elements of harmony following a fantastical thousand-year exile in the moon. She was said to be a tiny alicorn upon her return, but her height returned the following year. It is troubling that Iconography worldwide shows the silhouette of an alicorn that is no longer present.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

12. Dragons Dreams and Questions

Rizi woke from dreaming of blue dragons. ‘Strange’ she thought. She was feeling… good, but strange. She didn't know any blue dragons. Certainly, none so small and demanding. In her dream the blue dragon had claimed to be Dragon Lord. Her friend and hero Scorcher was Dragon Lord now. So brave, she sighed internally. She remembered the blue dragon had whooped laughing as Rizi told her Scorcher was Dragon Lord. “Finally!” The blue dragon shrieked with joy. “He’s awake!”

“Of course, he’s awake, he sent me. I am on a journey to Canterlot.” Rizi said.

“You’ll find nothing in Canterlot. You have to go on to Maretime Bay.” the blue said.

The blue asked what kind of dragon she was. She denied being a dragon at all and insisted she was just a kobold. The blue got a sour look on her face then.

The blue said she thought that way once upon a time but that things looked different now.

“Enough talking yourself down. As Applejack would say, that's stinking’ thinking.” The blue dragoness said. “I need a noble dragon in the waking world as my knight and champion. You’re here and so you’re it. I call, claim and dub you.” Then she took the Bloodstone Scepter in both claws and bashed Rizi right on top of her head. There was a sound like a mirror shattering and Rizi awoke alone. She felt strange. She felt good but her nose was bleeding a bit. It bled all morning long.

She tried meditating to find the dragon again, but perhaps the dragon had had its say as her thoughts remained quiet, even if her eyesight seemed a little bluer than normal for a while.

Rizi had never heard of “Maretime Bay”. Usually, she couldn't recall her dreams. Certainly not with such clarity. She did her business, repacked, and had a quick snack before setting out again.

The road had now descended till it reached the foothills of the mountains. There were the occasional ruins of structures here and there. A wall between overgrown fields, or the foundation of a farmhouse or mill. Evidence of cultivation in the distant past and overgrown drainage ditches.

The land became flatter and the view wider. Before long the road became two lanes wide and then two lanes wide on each side divided. She ate a lunch of berries and dried meat at an intersection where a side road came in. These became gradually more frequent, first on the left side than on the right. A few small ones crossed the road.

An hour later she smelled and then saw some thin smoke in the bright light blue sky ahead of her. She came to a small hill and thought she could just barely see a small white building with smoke rising from it far in the distance, to the left of the road. Taking a sip from her canteen she walked slowly forward. It lay straight ahead.

Rizi soon came to the largest intersection yet. Her four-lane road and another met in a great circle. But that was not the most surprising thing. There was a signpost in the center of the circle. It was as tall as a dragon. And it had four arms. The one pointing at her read “The Dragon Lands 42”, the one pointing to the right read “Griffonstone 245”, the one pointing to the left read “Lost Lagoon 232” and the one pointing straight ahead read “Celestial Sea, Port to Equestria 21.”

The sign was freshly painted. Rizi reached out to touch one of a few small white drips. Her finger claw came away with the white smear. She stared at the sign for a long moment. “Too easy,” she said.

Just then Rizi felt very un-kobold like. Her eyesight again seemed to take on a slight blue hue and she heard the distant sound of breaking glass. The thought ‘But so very dragon-like.’ came unbidden to her mind. She stood for a moment at the sign and road thinking about inner dragons and Dragon Lords.

Shrugging, she left the signpost behind and continued her hike.

She supposed it didn’t matter if no conflict arose between real dragons and dream ones. The kobolds oath had been given to all dragons. Might was right for dragons. For Dragon Lords? She supposed the same rule applied.

The wind was from the west and there was salt on it. Clouds had begun to blow in from the sea. A canter farther on, she came to the top of another low hill.

The source of the smoke was at last revealed. There was a lot with a neat front yard and a sign in front of a nice large white glass fronted building whose windows faced the setting sun. Smoke was rising from a chimney. “Taem Alhayaa” the sign read. The letters swam when she stared at them. Maybe the bright sun was getting to her. The smoke smelled of delicious cooking. The sturdy wood building had a stone foundation, large windows and looked like it had been built recently.

Rizi walked warily forward, but there was no sign of anyone. As she drew closer, she noticed that the large windows had curtains. Chairs and tables could be seen in the glass. The light was now directly behind her, and it was hard to see through the windows which reflected the trees and fields behind her. But there was a large white rectangle prominently in the corner next to two double glass doors. It read simply “Open”, but the word stung her eyes when she stared at it. Clouds were gathering ahead on the road.

‘Now what?’ she thought. Again, she felt strange. Not bad, just like an animal stretching after confinement in a cage. There was a tinkle of shifting glass from what sounded like it was inside her own skull. Her tongue ran along her pointed teeth inside her mouth. Her tail swished with uncertainty. She scratched her back with her horns.

Commerce and stores were not unknown to her. Kobolds often had and kept small stands on fair days. They traded fruit and jellies for meat and things like toys and small tools. But a whole building devoted to selling things was a novel idea, like something from a story. Who would open a business here, in the middle of nothing?

Shrugging, Rizi dusted herself off, straightened her gear and walked to the door. She was an envoy of the Dragon Lord and wanted to make a good impression with whoever was here.

She knocked on the door. There was no answer. She pushed on the door, but it did not move. Sheepishly she observed the hinges swung outward and the door swung easily out at a gentle pull of the double handles.

The shop or whatever it was, was empty. Tables with checkered cloth surrounded by chairs were here and there. A counter was in front of her with stools and a large silver machine with lots of buttons. A small bell sat next to a sign that said, “ring for service.”

Rizi hopped up onto the counter. The stool was made for larger creatures, but kobolds were used to making do with oversized furniture and climbing was easy.

With mild trepidation she reached her clawed hand out and rang the bell which made a pleasant “ding!” noise.

At once she heard a rustling from the back beyond a door, and a pretty happy voice cried out “One moment, be right with you!”

The doors parted and a purple female creature walked in. Rizi knew what a pony was. She’d seen pictures on the walls at home and decorating old art and coins. She was pony shaped. Mostly. Much larger than any pony she had expected. It had a pony’s face, and enormous purple and grey wings like those of a pegasus, but larger. She had the tail and claws of a cat and wore a beautiful white garment of silk open at the side and was adorned with gold jewelry and an intricate golden headdress. Her head nearly reached the ceiling. She was very purple, and had bright yellow cat eyes, the size of a melon. She smiled down at Rizi and said in a pleasant tone “Welcome to Taem Alhayaa”.

Rizi was used to dragons, so the sharp carnivore teeth long as her arms weren’t too frightening, but the bulk of the creature, its sheer size, its sudden appearance, and its proximity made Rizi glad she had peed back at the crossroads.

After an awkward moment, Rizi said “uh, Hello.” She shook her head momentarily and said, “I mean hello, my name is Rizi”. She shook herself again. She sounded all wrong to herself. Again, there was a sensation of broken glass tumbling into shadows.

The large creature continued to smile. “Well hello Rizi, I am Horsemarket, and welcome to Taem Alhayaa, the best and only restaurant on the *betweenness* of Canterlot and Dragonholme.” Rizi was unsure, but the words weren’t quite lining up the way she expected them to. “What can I *serve* you?”

“Rizi is unsure what a restaurant is?” Again, Rizi’s words sound strange in her ears.

“Oh, it's a place where *creatures* prepare and sell food to other *creatures*. Sort of like a food cart?” Horsemarket explained.

“You look uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable? It's the spell isn’t it. It's the spell. I’m out of practice. It's been a while. I’ve been sleeping and just woke up. Then again lots of things are waking up all over! Wakey, wakey, eggs, and bakey, no mistakey, time has come to meet the day!

“Be a while before I can go home to Somnambula though! Nobody there. Bet you beat me to it!” The large creature leaned back and laughed into the ceiling.

Whatever Horsemarket was she sounded friendly. “Rizi asks what sort of a spell?” She couldn’t shake the feeling of strangeness.

Horsemarket smiled. “Oh, a translation spell. I don’t speak your language and you don’t speak mine. Nobody speaks mine anymore and I can’t be bothered to learn theirs. It makes rhyming difficult, and I'm never sure if I have the meter right or not. Maybe I should learn after all! Ha-ha!

“Still, though this is a restaurant, or it will be again soon, I'll be leaving it here for some creature, I’m sure. But in the meantime, it's mine. I’m the waitress and cook and you are a hungry traveler off on a great adventure! Something across the sea unless I miss my guess?”

“Well yes, Rizi is on a journey.” There, that was better. She was getting the hang of - whatever this was.

“Don’t tell me yet! Oh er, do tell me? but frame it as a question, like a game, do you like games? I do. My favorite games are riddles. Do you know what a riddle is?”

Rizi nodded. She knew what riddles were. Her clutch mates would pose them to each other on long nights after a hard day’s work serving the dragons. Some of the riddles were very old. Some were said to have been from before there were kobolds, or even dragons. Rizi smiled at Horsemarket and answered her question with a question:

“What question,
and answer,
whatever am I?”

“A riddle!” she exclaimed, clapping her paws, and jumping her front and rear into the air to land l with a joyous double thump that rattled the building. “Oh, I love that one! And you answered my question with a riddle! Oh my, oh aren’t you a cleaver creature? I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you!”

“I'm so excited. Despite the circumstances. Um, never mind that. It's been so long. Oh, can you, do it? Can you make why and where you’re going a question?”

“Journey to ponies to ask magic why?”

“Oh, and you answered another question with a riddle here and answered mine again. What fun! So, you’re off to see the ponies to ask why magic is back right?”

Rizi nodded. Horsemarket squealed and did a little dance in place. The windows rattled.

“Oh, but you are such a small thing to go so far from home. Your home I mean not mine. The ponies are all right next to my home now of course. Well not right next to, but pretty close, a short flight for me, a day’s walk for you maybe?”

“You must be hungry. We have lots of good things to eat. Well good for you I mean. A bit bland and tame for me, but then again, most creatures find a sphynx’s diet distressing. That's what I am, a sphynx. Have you ever heard of a sphynx?”

Rizi shook her head.

“Well, I’m not surprised. Most creatures haven’t. I’m the only one now and for a long time.” Horsemarket twirled around in a circle each way, flapping her wings, swishing her tail, and showing herself off.

“I ask questions,
my answers are turns,
only the right path brings wisdom,
all others reach the end of the road.
What am I?

“A Sphynx, Rizi guesses, is you?

“So right! Yes, it's me. But you should never guess with a sphynx. Guessing with sphinxes stinkses! That's a good way to get eaten right up. A sphynx is what you get when a pony and a griffon find true love and their offspring ascend. Do you know about ascension?”

Rizi shook her head.

“Well, you know what an alicorn is?”

Rizi nodded. She had at least heard of the big, winged unicorn princesses known as alicorns.

“Right, an alicorn is like every type of pony but bigger, buffer and better in every way. In a way they are like dragons. They live forever unless killed, and sometimes even then! Or in another way they are like Nightmares, or like the equal and opposite of Nightmares. You know what a Nightmare is sweetie?”

“Tyrant monsters of deepest darkness and shadow?”

Horsemarket frowned. “And we were doing so well. Let's not throw around terms like monster okay honey?”

Rizi nodded. Horsemarket smiled again.

“Well Nightmares possess vast dark powers, can manipulate matter at will, use energy beams, move things with their mind. So basically, what alicorns do, and, possession, but only of willing hosts. Unless you invite them in, they can’t do much. They will whisper at you and pester you to do things you wanted to do anyway. That sort of thing, right?” She looked over her shoulder at the shadow behind her. “Right. Well, an alicorn is like that. Except for the possession unless you count self-possession. Being self-possessed oneself I mean, like an alicorn, which I certainly do. Count that, I mean.”

“Now I’ve flown right past my point, which I mean is that beings like ponies or dragons, they can ascend. It's like accessing more of your soul. More of what makes you, you. By becoming more one can transcend one's present limitations and do more than others can. And for an alicorn that means protecting and leading others, nurturing them, defending them, and helping them grow. And for a pony this happens all at once. Bam you're an alicorn. Sphinxes are like that too, some others. Dragons, though, they grow into it gradually. Does it feel that way for you? Do you feel it, yourself growing larger, becoming more, limitations falling away?”

“Rizi is kobold, not dragon, yes?”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” The Sphinx regarded Rizi for a moment. “But what I do know is that you gave me several good riddles, and I owe you a nice hot meal and a place to stay for the night. Does that sound alright to you? The roads down here aren’t safe for travelers at night.”

“Sounds good to Rizi, yes please.”

“So polite. You tell Scorch and Smolder I said so. Now wait right here. I’ll only be a moment.”

Calling from the back she said “All we have to drink is apple juice. I haven’t had the time for cider and magicking it up never tastes right.” And then more quietly as if to herself “Shut up, I’m getting to it.” Rizi got the impression someone else was in the back, a helper maybe? There were some whispered words she could not make out. She shivered and her spines stood up a bit. The shadows were lengthening now.

But a few moments later, Horsemarket returned with a plate and Rizi was once more at ease. Upon the dish was a large, dressed rabbit with cornbread, barley soup and a big slice of what she called Pecan pie.

Rizi called it delicious. She stuffed herself and made happy noises as she ate. Horsemarket turned so her broad back faced the lizard.

“My, it's been a while since I’ve seen anyone eat with such gusto. Of course, most of those knew they might be on the menu next, like that rabbit. I suppose that might upset one's appetite. I’m not watching because I might get hungry, and then things might get… unpleasant. I prefer to keep things light. All finished, dear? Let me take that for you. Ok there you go.”

“You've been a polite guest and have gotten rather ahead in our game. There's something I know, and you need to. But I can’t just tell you, that's against the rules, and no matter how much I like you little one, we all have to obey our fundamental nature. Dragons need to hoard treasures, alicorns protect ponies and sphinxes ask questions.”

Rizi looked up at the Sphinx. She suddenly seemed to fill the entire room.

“I’ll ask a question. Then I’ll leave for my home and so will you. But if you answer right, it won’t be together, but you’ll go in the morning, ok little one?

Rizi looked at Horsemarket’s claws and teeth. She started to worry. But then Rizi saw the cat-like eyes of the Sphinx had a twinkle in them. That twinkle reminded her of the look in the eyes of the glowing orange and white dream alicorn, and Rizi relaxed.

Life was full of uncertainty, and Horsemarket had been nothing but helpful so far. She had been friendly, kind, honest, generous and was trying to be true to what she was. Rizi couldn’t find any fault with any of that, even if what she was, was a bit scary.

“Rizi knows Horsemarket trying to help Rizi. Good friend to have, go ask question.”

“Oh my, you mean that? Friend. You do mean it. That's clear. Oh, oh my. I guess the magic really is back. Just, oh wow.”

Rizi nodded at the Sphinx.

“Well wow, are you sure? I could go rummage around in the back, get some more pie and you could slip out the door while I'm gone. No question asked, no harm no foul?”

Rizi got the feeling the Sphinx was very lonely. “You ask, Rizi answer, eat pie together.”

Horsemarket’s eye twitched. Horsemarket turned her head and looked at her shadow behind her. Rizi felt her spines stand up at once. She was just a little bit afraid. The shadow had eyes of a darker blackness. “You said she was just like all the others. But she’s not. She’s not. I did what you made me do. I got in her path, made her go through me. I won't ask her that. I won't, it's not fair, and it's not up to you. I’m Horsemarket the Sphinx and I’ll ask what I want! You don’t control me!”

Rizi saw the shadow expand and then fade. It became less black somehow. Rizi swallowed. The room seemed emptier.

Horsemarket looked at Rizi. She had a sad expression.

“You saw - all that?”

Rizi nodded.

Horsemarket broke into tears and crumbled onto the floor in front of Rizi. “It doesn’t matter. You know what it is. I know. We named it tonight, but to even address it is to give it power and it has none. Not yet. I think it's alone. I think it's the last. I’d pray it is if I could pray at all. It's been with me for so long. Haunting me, making me come here. Making me do all this. I’m sorry Rizi. But I must still ask you. I must still tell you. You understand?” Tears rolled down her great face. She sobbed into her paws.

Rizi hopped down, rubbed the neck of the great creature, looked into her golden eyes, nodded, and smiled. “Just ask.” she said, feeling her orange eyes shift a bit blue. A shadow lifted as if another piece of a mirror had fallen out of a frame.

Horsemarket gathered herself and sat up. She still looked at the floor and not at Rizi.

“It will be so angry at me. Asking this instead of what it wants. But it will be so worth it.”

“Okay, okay Rizi, here goes, good luck.”

“What costs nothing but is worth everything?”
“Weighs nothing but can last a lifetime?”
“No one alone can ever own it.”
“But two or more can share it?”

Rizi smiled and gave her answer.

The second pie slice was even better shared.

13. Wind Rain and Cat Birds

“It is also said that the alicorns of the Sun and Moon were the oldest beings on Equis. The wise don’t count the draconoqui or the nightmares and other extra-Equis beings as they are not from our world, and time is strange for calculating the lives of creatures who came from outside of Equis.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

13. Wind, Rain and Cat Birds

In the morning Rizi woke alone, in a back room of the restaurant tucked neatly into a bed that was much too big for her. Her things all lay beside it. She did not remember falling asleep. There was a big purple feather with a light grey convex side lying atop a piece of paper.

Rizi, goodbye for now. I can’t stay. Sphinx must eat after naps, and I was out for a good long sleep. I hope to see you soon Rizi. Please visit me if you are near my hometown. I’ll try and write a better spell or maybe I’ll learn Poni.

Your friend,
Horsemarket the Sphinx

When she had finished reading the letter, she folded it neatly and put it in her pack at the bottom where it would be safe. She weaved the feather through her little brown cap carefully with her claws and thought it looked very dashing. Horsemarket had left fruit and apple juice on the counter in front. There was no lock for any of the doors and so Rizi just left them as they were. After a light breakfast, she washed, filed, and sharpened her claws, horns, and spines, and filled her canteen from the well out back.

She sat to meditate and find her inner dragon. After just a moment an insubstantial small blue Dragon Lord appeared. She seemed annoyed. “What? You know I do have other things I have to do? You’re not the only creature I have to watch.”

Rizi was a bit startled. “How is blue Dragon Lord here now? I was calling for my inner dragon.”

“And here I am. What do you want?” The blue dragon tapped her foot impatiently.

“Nothing specific, we’re supposed to meditate daily.” Rizi was very confused.

The two regarded each other. The blue broke the silence. “Well, wait till you have something to ask, I’ve got other things to do ‘kay?” The blue faded away as Rizi opened her eyes. Had she been daydreaming or imagining things? She rubbed her scaly eyelids and brow ridges and wiped from her snout to her backwards pointing ivory head horns with her claws, trying to wake up. That had been …weird.

She went on her way. There was no sign of the Sphinx. But then she hadn’t expected one. Her pack felt a bit tight, so she loosened it slightly and walked towards the growing cloud cover.

Small, ruined buildings began to dot the road here and there for stretches on both sides. Long abandoned houses and other structures mainly. She investigated one at lunchtime, but besides some blue and yellow flash bees and a small flyder she found nothing of interest. They did make for a nice change from fruit though.

The bees objected to being a snack and Rizi had to retreat well before she was full.

Slightly singed she continued walking westward.

The terrain was becoming marshy and boggy now with pools and narrow fens on both sides. She could see cragadyles and other creatures in the marshes off to the sides of the road. She waited for a medium sized specimen to clear across her path before she could continue. She could smell the ocean now, or that is what she assumed it was, salty with a hunt of decaying vegetation. The road began to become harder and harder to navigate, as the stones had shifted and sunk.

Rizi found herself scrambling up one stone and down another and hopping from block to block. But the ruined sections were infrequent, and she made good time besides. It was a few hours after lunch when she found a carcass beside the remains of a cold campfire. It had been a large creature, a pig or something. It had been gutted, cleaned, and cooked. The head was missing. There was a broken arrow with a wicked metal head in the fire. All that was left were bones. But all around the campfire were the claw marks of large birds and cats. More than one, but how many she could not tell.

Rizi thought back to Horsemarket. She had lion paws. The rear paws made by these were much smaller but still very similar. Griffons probably, she thought. She’d never seen a griffon of course, but there were pictures. They looked a bit scary, but Horsemarket’s mother or father had been one. Horsemarket was hardly scary at all. Ok a little bit scary, but who wouldn't be if they were as big and strong as her?

From then on, she kept an eye to the sky, glancing up at the clouds, but apart from eagles hunting very high up among the growing cloud banks she saw nothing. The temperature was dropping, and the wind picked up.

Two hours later the sound of waves greeted her. She passed a low set of sand dunes that had completely covered the road and there it lay, the celestial sea, stretched out from this shore to an indiscernible blue horizon. The wind was now blowing stiffly and chilling her. The sun was no longer warm, barely warming as it reached through the gathering clouds a final time. Night would be coming soon and all she saw was wreckage and ruins. There were rusting hulks of boats, smashed and broken oars, rope and other debris. Wrecked buildings and piles of rusting cables, wires and rocks, and broken concrete lay in the way. The distant beach, such as it was, was sand mixed with rocks and rusting metal pieces jutting out into the water. Smashed and rotten piers jutted out of the sea. There was certainly no sign of a ferry or other boat. The temperature continued to drop. Rizi warmed by food and her exertion could see her own breath. Struggling among the debris to get a look around, she slipped and skidded over sliding stones, getting wet, then wetter, cold, then colder, and miserable. Her cloak was soaked and clung to her back and her bedding was wet too, probably. But she continued, trying to reach the edge of the shore, to find some way to keep going. She couldn’t see her breath anymore.

The air was frigid, and the wind blew through her wet clothes over her body, further cooling her. Dizzy now and a bit delirious from the cold, she splashed through shallow pools and slowly clambered over barnacles, shells, and driftwood debris down to the water.

She had never been so cold. Not even playing in the snow as a hatchling. At least then she could hop in a hot mud pool or stand over a steam vent or next to a dragon. Here there was nothing. She began to shiver uncontrollably. A freezing light drizzle began to fall again. The clouds had closed the entire sky. Night arrived as she finally stepped to the edge of the softly crashing surf. A steady cold rain began to fall.

The sea was empty, bleak, and hopelessly vast. She shivered. Cold tears ran down her cheeks.

“Ok, hold it right there you. Don’t move lizard fish. I've got you covered.” A voice said from, from where? From high above her.

She turned her head up to face the voice, but still saw nothing. She took off the goggles she had forgotten she was wearing and could make out a warm dark shape leaning over what looked like a cloud not far above her.

“I said don’t move. I’ve got a quiver full of arrows with your name on them and I'm a good shot. I won’t miss this close.”

Rizi tried to stay still. But it was so very cold, and she was shaking and shivering uncontrollably.

“Rizi sorry mister voice, Rizi is shivering.” She shuddered “and cold.” She hardly noticed the breaking of more mirrored glass from inside her head now.

“Well of course you are, idiot. Its misses voice, thank you very much. That water is like thirty or forty degrees. Come away from there, back the way you came.”

“Can move?”

“Yes, go on, no not that way, go around to your left. Your other left. That’s it. Keep your claws where I can see them. Now walk up that concrete bit there and you can walk all the way back, it's mostly level.” The voice was walking above her in what was now almost total darkness. Rizi could just barely make out a warm red and tan shape flitting from cloud to cloud against the dark sky.

“Ok, now keep walking, bear a little to your right, you’re going to walk right up that sand dune, then turn left down that little gully there. Don’t try anything. I have excellent vision.”

She must, thought Rizi, other than the heat of her outline against the clouds now, I can’t see anything.

“Ok. There's a rotten little wooden walkway to your right, go over it. There's a building, it's buried in the sand there, but there are some metal stairs from the walkway leading down. Walk down there.”

“Why down?” asked Rizi. She was so cold; she knew she wouldn't be able to walk back up.

“It's dry, and my things are down there. I need to decide what to do with… whatever you are. As cold as you are, I think you’d better do as I say. This storm is about to break and when it does, we do NOT want to be outside in it.”

Rizi saw little choice and climbed down the stairs. A warm orange hot, bundled shape landed behind her at the top of the stairs wrapped in heavy cloth. She glanced back. The dark outline of a six limbed body glowed with heat through the dark. A cold bow and arrow were visible against the warm body and the warm orange body in turn against the cold dark sky.

Rizi reached the bottom.

“Ok. Take off that pigsticker and put it down over there. Slowly. Ok now the rest of your things, just take them off and put them down.” She was cooperating. Slowly. She couldn’t move fast. As cold as she was, she didn’t think she could run or defend herself at all. She felt foolish for being taken off guard and letting herself get so weak from the cold. Her numb fingers made taking off her pack and belts difficult.

Rizi was still shivering but here out of the wind it was better, or at least not getting worse. Soon divested of her possessions, she stood by the pile near the far wall of the small room. The figure still hadn't moved from the stairs.

“Scorcher sent Rizi on quest to Canterlot.”

The voice said “Never heard of her. Can you make a fire?” The voice was female probably now that they were out of the wind.

“Scorcher is a drake, need flint, ok?” She gestured at the vest containing her tinderbox.

“Okay. There’s a small fireplace ahead of you and to the left.” The voice shifted something at the top of the stairs, a tarp or covering overhead, the rain began to patter on it.

Rizi took her tinderbox and walked towards the stone hearth slowly and painfully. A fire pile with nice small tinder and shavings had been set already. She tried and tried to light a fire, but it wouldn’t take. Her fingers were too numb and shaking and she couldn’t make the motions with her claws and blow fast enough. She began to cry again.

“Stop that. Stop that. I’ll do it. Look, go and sit down over there.”, the figure motioned to the side, a single hot orange taloned claw visible brightly in her vision in the near total darkness.

She did as she was bid, not moving when the figure sat down, her notched bow laid aside. The creature picked up something long and sharp near the wall, held it close and sat down by the chimney. Glancing at Rizi who had not moved at all, it took up the flint, deftly striking it and getting the sparks to take in just two quick strikes and two short breaths. The outline of the head of a creature that looked like an orange bird was briefly visible in the darkness.

In a few minutes the creature had a good fire going.

“Hey you, now, tend that.”

Rizi did so gladly, the fire burning brightly in front of her. The fireplace and chimney threw warmth and light into the room, ruining Rizi’s dark vision and drowning the room in shadows and light but warming her up. She almost crawled into the fireplace, her cold blood and near frozen body slowly heating as flames licked the wood.

“Is that better, lizard?”

Rizi nodded.

“Well hang up those wet things on those pegs. That bedroll and cloak are soaked. Wring them out and hang them. It's like you’ve never camped in the rain.”

“Never, no”. Rizi said quietly. She imagined shards of glass falling through moonlit darkness.

“Well, you can’t let your things get wet like that. You’ll get hypothermia in the wet, wind and water like that. Your body will just shut down and that's it, no more griffon. No more Rizi either whatever that is. What are you anyway? Are you a dragon hatchling? You don’t look fat and dumpy enough. There are supposed to be dragons around here somewhere.”

“Rizi kobold, kobold like dragons long ago.” she said sadly, turning her head slowly. Now she could see the head of the griffon. It was brown, orange, and yellow she saw now that there was light. Its eyes were metallic silver, more metallic than Scorchers were and round. It had a wicked looking beak and sharp looking talons. It was far larger than a kobold. “And voice is griffon, kitty-bird.”

The griffon made a noise like a chicken baw-hawking in what Rizi thought was laughter. “Gwen, you can just call me Gwen.”

“Oh, nice, is short name like Rizi.” Rizi was finally warming up back to normal temperatures for a kobold. “Kobold nicknames short four, five, six letters.”

“It's not really Gwen, I just go by that. It's really Gwendolyn, but I hate that name. It sounds like a pony princess name.” She was easily three times Rizi’s size. Muscles bunched under her clothes.

“Gwen is a pretty nickname, like Rizi.” Rizi said, trying to seem friendly and harmless.

“If you say so.”

“Yes, true.” Rizi blinked at the sparkling silvered glass dust in moonlight she saw in her mind's eye for a moment. “Real name Green, Cute and Prizing Quiet.”

Gwendolyn laughed at that. “Ha, ho, Green yes. You are aggressively green. As for Cute, maybe to other kobolds, maybe so, maybe to me too, but Prizing Quiet? Oh no, not on that beach! I found you by following the clatter and crash.”

“Gwen griffon not seeing Rizi at best. First time at seashore, holes, slips, falls.”

“Yea the footing out there is tricky.” The griffon continued to size her up. “You don’t seem very dangerous. How about we decide to trust each other a little? Maybe trade a little information? I'm out here looking for other griffons.”

“How come?” Rizi blinked. She saw or imagined more glass dust falling through moonbeams again, just out of sight. The wind was picking up outside and the rain was falling harder.

“King Gerald is expanding the borders. We need new hunting grounds. The griffon lands are all hunted out. So, the king sent a dozen heavily equipped armed and experienced griffon foragers south last season across the Stampede Stream. They split at the south side of the crossing. Half went east and half went west. They were supposed to hug the coast and search for fish and food and come back. But the ones that went west never did. My younger brother Gerrard was with them.”

Rizi nodded to show she understood. “Rizi not see any griffon cat birds.” Hunting could be dangerous. Sometimes bad things happen to a hunting party.

“Ok. Well, that sucks. You came here from the east? Down that big road?”

“Yes, Rizi follows the road from Dragonholme.” The griffon seemed very well armed to be just a hunter. “Hunting hard, Rizi hunt, can be dangerous.”

“That way?” Gwendolyn pointed back west. Rizi nodded.

“Gwen hunts with armor, bow, and sword?”

“Ha, well yes. Not exactly hunting. Well, honestly, I’m a scout, not a hunter. A corporal-knight, part of the griffon military, see this badge?” She turned and showed some two upward pointing chevron stripes sewn to her outer garment.

“I volunteered to find the other griffons when they didn’t come back, only now, everything’s turned strange.” The large cat bird frowned.

“Suddenly my wings are working better than they ever have. I mean I was an okay flier before, but now I’m seriously good. And I can do new stuff. Like that standing on clouds crap I did to follow you. No griffon can do that. It's like I’m super-griffon.”

“It is the magic, it has returned.”

“What do you mean?”

“Scorch asked Rizi to go to Canterlot” Rizi looked at the griffon. Her silver eyes looked at her orange ones intently. “Scorch became Dragon Lord and magic returned.”

“What, like his becoming this Dragon Lord or whatever caused it? And what's a Dragon Lord? Is that like the king of the kobolds? Shouldn’t it be kobold-lord?”

“No, and no, Scorcher is big dragon. Dragon Lord leader of kobolds and dragons. Kobolds and dragons are like friends forever?”

“Like allies? Like they help each other and fight together?”

“Guess so. Fight slingtails, salamanders, rocs, and cave eels.”

“I don't know what most of those are, but a roc, like the gigantic birds that eat elephants? How could little guys like you help with something like that?”

Rizi, full of pride, smiled and nodded. “Try to eat baby dragon, kobolds distract.” Rizi said with pride. “Sometimes kobold get eaten, but never dragon.” Rizi noticed Gwen had stopped pointing the sharp spear in her direction.

“Wow, so like a mutual defense pact? Griffons have those with each other. Aeries banded together against outside threats. They say ancient Griffonstone started like that. We used to just trade for bits, but that stopped a long time back. Manticores bugbears, rocs, and hydras raided us again and again even high up on mountain tops. Eventually all the griffons banded together and took our lands back. It took a long time and was a lot of hard work. We won peace, but that brought its own problems.” Gwen took off her outer rain slicker and hung it on the fire.

Gwendolyn became animated during her explanation and began pacing the room a bit. “Our numbers have grown, and the land is worn out and can’t fill us, so we look to expand, so now I'm searching for lost hunters.” She put her bow in the corner now and turned to face the fire again.

“I found some camps before they made the turn south. I found one fresh cairn with a single stake, with the name Gustav. Plenty of fish and food along the route but even with one dead, that's still five missing griffons. So far, I've only seen empty camps and you.

“And sorry about earlier. I thought you might be trouble for me, not be in trouble yourself.” She flapped her wings, fluffing out her brown feathers. “All this empty land is getting to me. I haven’t seen another speaking critter for nearly two moons. But it’s clear you have your own problems and aren’t looking to give any. No offense.”

“No offense taken Gwen, Rizi accepts apology. It's okay. Rizi was in trouble, no?” Rizi began to relax. It seemed this griffon creature was friendly or at least not hostile.

“Yes. Thanks. I found nothing dangerous or even interesting until I reached the big road here. You?” She looked at Rizi, who was warming her claws and turning her cloak over.

“Um, just a big hungry bug. Tried to eat Rizi, killed it.” Rizi could feel something funny going on. Like cleaning the edges of a picture frame, dusting something off with a breath. Her eyesight was tinted blue for just a moment. Rizi shook her head.

Gwen started to speak. “I did have one close call. A few days back, I saw something enormous, a big purple monster way up in the sky flying east. I hid, but it either didn't see me or ignored me.”

“Look like griffon, but with pony head?”

“Yes, I think so?” Gwen was setting out a bedroll near the fire. She set down the spear. Rizi relaxed.

“Horsemarket, big Sphinx, friendly. Not a monster, just lonely.” Rizi turned her steaming bedding over and upside down. Her cloak was already nearly dry.

“You know that thing? I was so scared. I thought I was going to be dinner for sure. It was flying so fast and turning so quickly. It was hunting eagles.”

“If polite, Horsemarket safe. She likes games and riddles too much. Not safe to play riddles with. Stakes much too high, life and death. Winners learn interesting things. Losers become her dinner.”

The griffon gawked at her in shock. “And your friends with that?”

Rizi grinned and nodded.

“She was so big. Her talons were the size of my legs. I’d be terrified.”

“Some dragons are much bigger.” Her vision tinted blue again and she got the impression of dust being blown off and moonlight streaming through an open window and of a dragoness being very pleased with herself.

The griffin looked at her strangely. “Are you feeling ok, that's twice now your eyes have gone well, I don't know, a bit blue. At first, I thought it was a trick of the light. It was like you had a whole different set of eyes.”

“Rizi not alone in head, Rizi thinks.” She heard a dragoness chuckling. Rizi set out her now drier bedding on the floor and stretched out in front of the fire.

“Wow, that's a weird problem I'm glad I don't have.”

“It's okay. Rizi is working for two Dragon Lords. Scorch and tiny blue inner dream dragon.” She heard grumbling, and her head suddenly felt clearer.

“Tiny, I thought dragons were big, and aren't Dragon Lords the biggest?”

“Dragon Lord is best dragon. Most dragons much bigger than Rizi, yes? Little ghost blue one not so much. Scorch would fill this entire room.”

“No way.”

“Others are much bigger still. Scorch is my size to Smolder.”

“I can’t even picture that”.

“It is a lot to take in. May I please ask a question?”

“Sure.” Gwyn laid out her bedroll.

“Did you hunt along the road?”

“No, why?”

“Rizi saw a campfire. Bones of animals only. Griffon tracks and an arrow. Like that black one over there.” She pointed to the arrows next to the bow against the wall.

“Rizi, this is important, how many griffon tracks?”

“Could be three, maybe more.”

“Will you show me in the morning?”

“I will take you Gwendolyn.”

“Gwen please. Just go to sleep. I’ll stay awake and spell you to watch at dawn. I only need a few hours anyway in the morning.”

“Gwendolyn makes it seven.”

“Seven?”

Rizi nodded. “Kobold bound to seven words. Blue fix. Now syllables are okay. Or words. Letters.” The little kobold warm once more nodded and fell asleep.

—

Ember’s avatar Rizi was sleeping. For the first time in a thousand years, Ember herself dreamed.

Blue moonlight shown through velvet curtains in the high windows of the topmost room in the Tower of Unity. All the doorways were dark. A tall and nervous purple alicorn with a cracked horn paced back-and-forth. A fire appeared and burst over her head and a tiny scroll fell to be caught in a shaky purple aura. Opening it quickly, Twilight Sparkle scanned the hastily written lines. It was what she expected, good news, not the best news but good enough. “Ember! The deep strike expedition was successful. The door to the Nexus is shut, sealed, locked, barricaded, and barred. Nothing will be going or coming from there again.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Ember heard herself say.

The small blue dragon was Ember. Ember was watching herself from outside. She was watching herself read a dragon fire scroll. She heard herself continue to speak.

“I just heard the same, through Smolder. The dragon distraction did the job. The rest made it back safe and sound. How long until they get here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been monitoring things. Any contact from Celestia and Luna?”

‘Oh, I’m dreaming.’ Ember thought. ‘This is my dream. It's been a while.’

There was commotion. Reports. Screaming… tragedy. Ember thought ‘This was from the last time I saw the moon. So very long ago now. I miss Luna. I hope she'd be proud of the job I’ve been doing.’

“No. I’m pretty sure they’ve moved on. I can’t feel them anymore, not even a little.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Twilight…” dream ember, real ember, memory ember said.

By Ember’s command the dream slowed to a crawl and stopped. Summer Breeze, Skyla, and her twins and… Cadance. Ember thought ‘I don’t have time for this.’

“Rizi, Rizi wake up.”

“She can’t hear you.” A pale mare with a candy-colored blue and pink mane spoke. The cat pupils of her light blue eyes streamed purple smoke. A counterfeit Flurry Heart.

“Nightmare.”

“You think you can move your little pawns without me noticing?”

“They moved themselves. I’ve done nothing. You on the other claw have been laying traps.”

The nightmare’s body began to lose all color, turning a ghostly blue, white. It said “I like this memory. You keep returning here. It's like a chipped tooth or a splinter in your mind. You just can’t leave it alone.” The false alicorn turned her head to look and the memory resumed.

For a moment Twilight just stood there with her eyes closed. Finally, she said quietly. “Cadance knew the risks. The rest volunteered.” She looked at the bat pony Dust. “Summer Breeze?” Dust shook her head.

“Shiny will never forgive himself. I don’t know what Flurry will do. She was completely against this.”

“Enough nightmare. You've taken enough. Your time is over.”

“Once again, I’ve only just begun. The sphinx was a bad tool, ill-suited for the job. But little orphan alicorn Flurry? I’ll snuff out her fire and freeze her heart to ice. Ice Heart will have a free hoof. Can I get her to open Tartarus before I possess her? I bet I can. Some of the Nexus Legions are kicking around down there, I can feel it. With the right light touches I might not need to possess her at all. I might even take a crack at Starscout.”

The tower tinted a bright yellow green. A small kobold voice asked, “Dream Dragon Lord, where is Rizi now?”

The nightmare was suddenly gone. Rizi stood behind the Blue Dragoness in the tower of Unity when hope had crashed down to near defeat.

She turned and looked at the Kobold. “Nowhere Rizi. This is just a bad dream, and it isn’t even yours. This is… a memory of a place that held hope once. But it's all gone now. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m dreaming of great tower. They called it Twilight’s Folly.”

“Perhaps it was Rizi. It was a beautiful dream. But it's time to wake up now.”

Author's Note

Horsemarket wrote herself. Just saying.

14. Season of the Witch

“Enemies of the princesses claimed they were conquerors and tyrants, but ponies tell a different story of course. Unicorn, pegassai and earth pony legends of Nightmare Moon and the thestral’s tales of The Sun Tyrant notwithstanding it is known that they were both much loved. At the end of their reign, they retired and turned the nation over to Twilight Sparkle, hardly tyrannical acts. And that of course led directly to her Equis Creature Coalition.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

14. Season of the Witch

The air was thin this high, too thin for comfort. Higher than any bird would fly. “Wow good thing we can fly, eh?” asked the blue siren Sonata as she fell hundreds of lengths a second. She resembled a dragon, but with webbed pony legs ending in hooves, the dorsal spines, fins, and tail of a fish.

“Yes Aria,” said the purple Aria as the three Sirens whirled about heading to a lower altitude. Normally they never flew so high, but the portal that had led them back to Equestria had been so high above the cloud deck that the Canterhorn of Canterlot was still far below them.

"This is it, girls. The moment we've been waiting for. Let’s head for the ocean,” said the pale-yellow Adagio pointing east. “Otherwise, it’s river fish and I know you much hate those Aria.”

“Not as much as I love them,'' sang the blue Sonata. “I mean it's not a taco, but they can sure be crunchy, and they aren’t salty at all!”

“Shut up and sing,” said Adagio. “If I have to listen to you, we can at least practice our big reunion encore.”

The Dazzlings began to level out beneath the clouds. They were among the fastest flyers ever, and the height they had traded for speed had them already nearing horseshoe bay.

Ahh, ah-ah, ahh
Ah, ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah, ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ahh, ah-ah, ah, ah-ah
Ah-ha, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

Welcome to the show
Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah
We're here to let you know
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

Our time is now
Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah
Your time is running out
Ah, ah, ah

Ah-ha, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Ah-ha, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

Feel the wave of sound
As it crashes down
You can't turn away
We'll make you wanna sta-a-a-ay

We will be adored
Tell us that you want us
We won't be ignored
It's time for our reward

Now you need us
Come and heed us
Nothing can stop us now

The Dazzlings sang joyfully as they soared, Sonata Dusk, Adagio Dazzle and Aria Blaze were back in the world of their birth and were free and happy once again.

As the sun set Siren shone brightly in the night sky as the three powerful creatures rose and dipped through the clouds spinning in joy while the shafts and rippling curtains of magic restored danced in the skies over Equis. With lights of purple, yellow, red, and blue, the heavens rejoiced at their return, and the winds echoed their song.

15. Firestarter

“Like I always say, to be Scared is to be Prepared!”

—Phyllis Cloverleaf President of Canterlogic

1. Firestarter

The night hag, ancient enemy of alicorns tormented Bluebell’s sleep. She tossed fitfully, until a blue harmonic glow from Draco gently shoved the shadow aside, the ancient enemy losing control of the dream realm, forced to merely observe a now harmonic pony as she joined the peaceful dream realm and the hopes of oblivion lost more ground. The shadow seethed, deciding if it should stay or go.

The stars were laid out in the dream realm. They were strangely clear. The entire sky, even that which the horizon should have blocked was visible to her.

The unicorn Monoceros was too absorbed in sun worship to care about destiny and order. The normally hostile Lupus and its sister Siren were in conjunction. The Zony-yak signs were prominent in her dreams, swept by chaotic flows dragging the destinies of Pegasus and Terra Equuleus hither and yon, twisting the aims of reality and oblivion as forces of Chaos and Harmony warred over the future. Immortallis Alicornia had the lead by a large but slowly shrinking margin.

The avatars of the chain of creation had left little to chance opposing Wärmetod. The cosmic balance of Harmony had set signs in the heavens for its champion - conjunctions, and even a meteor. A dream walker spirit empowered by Draco had awoken a sleeping instrument of fate to crack the reigns and give the knight a push. Aquila Equus had picked a strong and brave companion for the knight to carry her. Canis Majoris trained the knight well, and one formidable challenge conquered already. The indifferent influence of Siren had tempered the knight’s kind through eons of grim service in the nethermost realms of creation. Realms they had only recently returned from, and its own avatars had newly returned to the field. But the journey of the knight was likely to be a short one.

Silver Blossom could see that the more distant powers, Hydra, Phoenix and beyond simply didn’t care. The distant objects had little to do with the affairs of complexity and simplicity, growth and death, life and extinction and were content to let gravity, rocks, orbits, and momentum swing the fates about. Their influences were distant but omnipresent. Chance was a free variable and trying to eliminate it only added more uncertainty. The stars warred overhead echoes of the ancient war between life and hope and the final destruction of all purpose.

Angry the shadow decided to find somewhere new to go. It abandoned her dreams for the waking world of Bridlewood. Bluebell had been shifting fate with her constant vigilance. The nightmare wanted some revenge.

—

Silver Blossom kissed her little Blossoms on their foreheads. The colts were in bed reading quietly, the room illuminated by a small metal candle lamp on the nightstand. The colts shared the identical blue coat colors of their sister, but their manes were white and red. “Goodnight sweeties, your father and I are going out for dinner and to celebrate. Tonight’s our anniversary. Don’t stay up too late, ok? Your poor sister is sleeping in the next room. She said to wake her, but let her sleep, she’s been staying up late to watch till you fall asleep every night for a week.”

Gin Blossom ruffled his colt’s heads. “Silly girl said she had a premonition you were going to burn the house down or something. She’s been worried sick. Don’t touch the stove. If you get hungry, wake her up, ok?”

Silver Blossom grabbed her coat and purse. “We’ll be back in couple of hours. Just stay in here and play quietly, ok?”

Gin Blossom looked at his wife as he shut and locked the door. “Think they’ll be ok on their own?”

“Of course, they’re 10, and Bluebell is with them.”

“I don’t know, she was right about Cotton having that big fight with Thin Ice. That colt is going to have a fat lip for a while still. Maybe we should wake her up?”

“She’ll be fine dear, let her sleep. The twins were getting tired anyway. A few pages and I’m sure they’ll both fall asleep.”

A shadow swept from Blue Blossom’s bedroom across the hallway and into the twin’s room behind them. From the darkest corner, eyes of a daker shadow peered into the room.

—

The colts continued to read quietly. The candle burned low. The shadows shifted in the room and the candle went out.

“Hey Fire, the candle went out.”

“Well, Cotton, just read with your horn.” answered Fire. “You’re the one with a cutie mark, weren’t you saying your magic is stronger, so that’s why you got yours first?”

“I’m tired, I don’t want to.” answered his brother, the white cotton puff on his rump notwithstanding.

“Well go get Bluebell. Have her get another one,” said Fire.

“I can handle it I know where they are,” said Cotton, hopping down and going out the door. He opened the hallway, walked past the quiet snoring from his sister’s open door and into the hallway where a big box of white candles sat, together with a box of matches. Pulling a candle out he walked back to their room and pulled the door to.

Cotton put the candle back in the candle holder carefully.

There were three matches in the box. He struck one. It flamed briefly, the shadows on the wall twitched and it went out. He struck another. It refused to strike again and again until the matchhead was bare.

Fire said, “Hey Cotton, let me try.” Cotton hoofed the box with the remaining match over to his brother. Fire picked the match up in his aura and showing off to his slightly younger but cutie-marked sibling struck the match. The darkness of the room became more intense. Watchful. Anticipatory. The match flared and went out, smoking.

Fire Blossom stared at the smoke rising from the match held in his red aura. With the smoke rising the match held in his red aura almost looked like it was on fire already. The darkness of the room grew more intense.

Angry that the stupid match wasn’t lit he focused on the match, feeling the smoking tip with his magic. He felt he could set it on fire with magic if he just got angry enough. He felt more power push into his spell, as if the dark of the room was feeding the fire. Suddenly his right hip itched, and he lost his concentration as a small flame travelled down from his horn to the match which burst into flames, and on into the basket of papers, comics, and toys the colts used to corral the mess of their room. Nothing happened.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he touched the match to the candle. It lit immediately. Fire Blossom shook out the match put the expired wood stick and the empty box of matches onto the metal candle holder. The shadows of the room shifted.

Cotton said, “Hey Fire”.

“What?” said Fire Blossom.

“No, FIRE” said Cotton pointing at the basket.

Flames were crawling through the paper and up the sides of the basket.

—

Blue Blossom dreamed of her weird and hyper old classmate Izzy Moonbow. Izzy was playing in a playground with the strange ponies she had brought to the Crystal Tea Room, the earth ponies and pegassai, jumping, and frolicking. Blue Blossom was watching them play. Only they weren’t earth ponies or pegassai anymore, they were alicorns, and lizards, and griffons, and more fantastic things she didn’t know the names of. They changed before her eyes from one to another as strange stars and planets whirled overhead, and they jumped through doors and mirrors chasing one another and laughing.

The scene grew dim as a black haze began to fill Blossom’s dream. From the side of her bed dark shadows watched in growing joy.

She woke to coughing, the smell of smoke and the cries of her brothers.

Lurching, Blue Blossom stumbled from her bed into the hallway. The flickers of flames were coming from the door to the twin’s bedroom. Cotton was screaming shrilly.

Panicked she raced inside to see the flames that licked from a basket up the wall and were catching from the little space above it to a bookshelf and some other objects sitting on it. Thick black smoke was pouring from the basket as something acrid burned. Cotton was trying to beat out the flames with a pillow. His foreleg was on fire. Fire was laying on the floor, overcome with smoke, passed out next to the baske, his coat smoking.

She screamed. “Boys, come with me!” She knocked cotton away from the fire and hugged his forelegs to her body smothering the fire with her body. Grabbing her other brother by his foreleg she dragged him from the room. She tossed Cotton on her back and dragged Fire down the hall to the door on two legs. Cotton was screaming again. Fire was completely silent. Panicked she swiftly moved the three of them down the hall.

The door was locked. The coffee table held correspondence and bills in neat piles, but no key! Where was the key? She didn’t know. Smoke was filling the hallway now. There was a small square window with a sash next to the door, she tried it, but it was stuck. The smoke was growing thicker. She gave a single cough.

Blue Blossom grabbed the chair by the coffee table with her forelegs. She smashed the chair feet first into the window beside the door. Rattling the chair around the square in a quick circle several times she tossed it out the window, picked up Fire Blossom and set him down gently outside using both her limbs and her magic. She then did the same for Cotton. Finally, she herself leapt through the open window and into the dark street.

She raced across the lane and pounded on the door to the Wicker’s house. Mr. Wicker opened the door, and Blue Blossom hurriedly explained the situation. He in turn raced down the lane to the fire bell, and within a few minutes the Bridlewood fire department arrived. Crews with axes, sand and water were able to put out the flames and keep the house from being further damaged. A shadow from around the house withdrew as the dark lane filled with life.

Gin and Silver soon returned, galloping down the lane as they saw fire ponies and pump carts in front of their house. Their sons were being treated by two emergency ponies. Fire Blossom had come to. He was crying. His brother was singed, but apart from some singed hair and slight burns on his right fetlock seemed ok. Blue Blossom stopped shaking and calmed the colts while Gin and Silver talked to the Sheriff.

At some point that old black mare Mystic Orb came up. She started yelling at the Sheriff that he was upsetting ‘the little ones’, and eventually Sheriff Porter gave up on any ideas of bringing Gin and Silver in for questioning and just left. Probably to get away from Ms. Orb. The old mare walked over to Blue gave her a peck on the cheek and a hug and ambled off.

Blue Blossom looked up. The stars above had nothing to add to the relief the family felt. The planets had subtly shifted in their ellipses. The balance in the skies was slowly tilting towards oblivion once again. Why hadn’t she seen it before? A blood moon was coming. A lunar eclipse. Blue Blossom began to cry for no reason she could explain.

Fire Blossom’s parents were not as happy as they might have been that he had a lit candle for a cutie mark.

16. Waving a Cape at a Red Bull

“Several thousands of years before the founding of Canterlot the heavenly princesses suddenly appear as rulers in what became Equestria, eventually incorporating all pony kind after what the ancient equestrians called the pre-classical age.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

16. Waving a Red Cape at a Bull

A tiny yellow and green statue was held in a delicate clamp by small silver steel spring clamps on fine adjustable arms. It was a small lizard figure, the detail on it was incredible, but it was only half finished. The hand painting shook slightly than steadied, spectacles were adjusted, and a new finer paintbrush was selected.

“King Iron Hoof, the Saddle Arabian delegation is here.”

The king grunted. He held up a single index finger towards Mish Mash, his scheduler and majordomo. The smallest of his tiny paint brushes was dipped in the brightest red paint. He prepared to paint a symbol on the armor of the small miniature.

“The Kirin ambassador is here as well.”

The king grunted again. He backed his brush up from the figure. Annoyed that his scheduler kept speaking as he was engrossed in trying to complete the fine task, he held up a single index finger once again and moved it back and forth slightly towards the old gray bull. He began to paint a fine line of a red figure on the breastplate.

“The Zebras have also sent an envoy.”

Startled at the words, the fine line became a blobby mess. The king snorted, sat up, reached for a cloth, and wiped off the figure. He would have to start AGAIN. Irritated, he set down his brush and turned from his hobby table focusing on the old Minotaur. He sighed, took a breath, and put a pin in his thought about just how to complete his Kobold Collection so they would look best when placed by his other Heroes of Equestria tabletop miniatures.

“Mish Mash, how often have I asked not to be disturbed when I am working on my hobbies?” The powerful bull sat back in his finely carved and richly upholstered chair setting down his reading spectacles. The sun streamed through the high ceilings and archways of the Taurkapi palace.

“Very often my king. But you have equally often directed me not to keep foreign guests waiting when you are focused on purely private pleasures.”

“Quite right, Mish Mash.” Come, let us greet our guests. The large bull stood up, and the steers quickly dressed him in the robes of office. The large soft hooved eunuchs moved swiftly and in moments he was finely arrayed. There were less of them now. His first act as King had been to outlaw gelding as a punishment or requirement for office. The practice had proven remarkably hard to curtail however much he discouraged it. He feared further measures might be necessary. No doubt that would inflame the more conservative members of his court into yet further defiance of the royal will.

“One last thing my king”, the finely boned old counselor picked up the royal crown, a gaudy gold bulbous cap covered in red and green gems and placed it upon the king's head.

“Ugh. This thing is so heavy. I swear it cuts off circulation to my horns and ears.” Mish Mash placed it atop his head. King Iron Hoof shifted it a bit, which only seemed to make it worse.

“A crown is traditionally required, my king.”

“Well, I'm thinking of starting a new tradition. One without crowns.”

“Careful my king, or you will give the conservative elements republican ideas, and that would be very bad indeed.”

“What makes it a crown anyway Mish Mash? Why is it not just a gold hat?”

“Well, my king, a crown has symbols of the state upon it. In our case the green and red gems symbolize the law and the martial power of Istanbull. And the gold of course the unifying power of the king. That's why the fez of your guard like that fellow over there is red with a red tassel, and that of your civil administration is gold like mine, with the green tassel.”

“That's it then, just the colors are important?”

“Well yes, technically, but the proportions are also important. The Red Matador had an almost entirely red gemmed crown to emphasize the force of his rule, while the gems of Ryokugyu the lawgiver were almost entirely green.”

“I seem to recall you telling me this before Mish Mash”

“Yes, my liege. This is at least the tenth time.” The king eyed the counselor. The counselor met his gaze. The king smiled and broke his gaze.

“Well, you have given me a new idea.” He turned to the closest steer. “Domino, that enticing new heifer in my harem, Penelope, she wore a black top with a big raging gold bull pin the last time I saw her. I believe it had red and green stones for eyes. Bring me the pin and then get her two more. Tell her the sultan thanks her and will visit her tonight.”

“Now you, there guard. Sprinkles, isn’t it?” The large guard nodded. “I need your fez.” The young bull handed the king his red fez. The king picked the tassel loose from the inside, the red was a very pleasing color. The king smiled a bit of a crazed smile and said in a gravelly tone. “And yours Mish Mash.” Nervous and turning a bit pale, Mish Mash handed his fez over as well. The king prized the green tassel loose and added it to the top of the red fez. Domino had returned with the gold pin. The king took that and pinned the ferocious looking bull to the front of the bright red fez. Taking a moment to admire his handy work, the king grinned. “There, perfect.” Taking off his crown, he handed it to Domino. “Here, put this away, I have a new crown today.” He put the light bright red fez with the green tassel and gold pin atop his head and strode towards the throne room.

“Sir, but sir, the court will view that as a military statement. They’ll think you’re going to start settling all of your problems with a sword.”

“Well, I think I’ve had quite enough dissent for one reign. Tell them it was your idea. If that gets them to stop gelding helpless male calves, I’m all for it. Tell them that too.”

Feeling quite pleased with himself and enjoying the far lighter headgear now set across his brow, King Iron Hoof tromped from the door straight to his throne almost before his courtiers could announce him. Turning with a flourish he strode atop the dais and swept his red cape across his golden legs and sat with his back straight upon his large golden throne and looked down upon his court. “Uh your majesty” said General Chop-Chop, noticing the new headgear the king wore. He paused. The large bright red fez had only the tiniest amount of green. From the cut it was a military fez. No doubt. And the golden bull. It was a very angry golden bull, stomping and snorting with a red and green eye. And then there was the king. He had a pleased and perhaps a bit feral look, so unlike his normal tired and put-upon expression. The red silk cape had completely covered the king's legs. It's swish of red momentarily completely derailed his thoughts. Recovering quickly, Chop-Chop discarded his entire statement, stood at attention, and said loudly “The GROUND POUNDERS stand ready to carry out your commands SIR!” The startled Royal Navy and Skyforce representatives stood straighter at attention.

“I should hope so, general.” Then to his side he said loudly “Bring in our visitors.”

There was a bit of confusion as all three sets of foreign delegates in the entryway sorted themselves out. The Kirin seemed most displeased at being admitted simultaneously with the Zebricans and the Arabians.

A brief flash of flames lit the hall. Everyone grew tense, a smell of smoke drifted through the doors. Another flash and an embarrassed silence had the now naked Kirin ambassadress trailing the other two delegations.

The king raised his left eyebrow. Well, that was something. There were legends of course but seeing a flaming Nirik with one's own eyes was something else. It was a good thing the hall was all stone and steel. Servants swiftly swept up the sooty ash her silk finery had been reduced to.

“I know why you have come. I’m going to be making some changes to our relationships and it's best that I address all of you together.” The king said, standing. He kept his red cape across him holding it in one hand. While raising the other to point at the ceiling. “We will relinquish our claims to the desert starting twenty canters west inland from the eastern shore of the coast from the city here to the river south of the delta.”

The court erupted in clamor. The king shouted “SILENCE!!!” He looked right at his generals. “Chop-Chop, if members of the noble court cannot remain silent when I am speaking you are to remove them by force is that understood?”

“YES, YOUR MAJESTY!” The bull general emphasized his shout by slamming his hooves on the floor ONE, TWO. Iron Hoof could not recall that level of enthusiasm ever coming from his chief military advisor. Perhaps he had been suppressing an urge to throw the highborn nobles out of the hall for some time?

“AS I WAS saying, we will relinquish all claims, except for the immediate coast. In return the Saddle Arabians will acknowledge our claim to the northern delta and agree to support such claims by force if necessary. And likewise, we acknowledge their claim to Djenniah and its environs, for thirty canters inland from the walls of the city and will support the same by force of arms.” There was a stirring in the court, but no one dared speak.

The Saddle Arabians looked quite unexpectedly pleased, but Tendai the outraged Zebrican delegate strode angrily forward.

“FURTHERMORE!” The king continued pointing straight at the zebra the moment he opened his mouth to speak, “We agree to split the differences our sides have on our trade disputes, AND to unfreeze all assets we have held since the recent unpleasantness in Zebrenica. We also agree to the negotiating terms the zebra have set forth in the trade disputes. ALL of them. The sides have remained far apart, this ends that. In exchange you will honor my agreement with the Saddle Arabians and acknowledge our claims to the delta. There is no fixed term for this agreement. It will end upon the end of my reign if not continued by my successor or by mutual agreement. Are we agreed?” Tendai, shocked, nodded. “To further cement this peace, I accept the offer Prince Tendai, your cousin and namesake made a decade ago before he met his unfortunate end in a poisoned soup bowl and agree to hire a mercenary guard of 200 of the finest zebra hoplites to supplement my house guard. Financing shall be provided by Saddle Arabia.” He looked at the Arabian delegates dressed in their fine saddles and tack. They nodded tentatively.

“Good, with that resolved, except for patrols, I will be withdrawing all troops along the border with Saddle Arabia several canters east. I expect similar moves from your side?” The Saddle Arabians nodded. “They are needed at home and to patrol the delta. Now that we have all secured the peace amongst ourselves for another generation let us turn to more serious matters.”

An elderly noble stepped forth from the noble court boldly approaching the dais. He was thin, old, and exceptionally wizened.

“Yes lord?” Said the king politely, far more politely than he had said anything up till now.

“Such as matters of succession? your grace. These foreign matters are easily disposed of, but you still have no heir to the kingdom! Fate hangs by a thread and until this has been addressed, so does Istanbull. It has been three decades now with no heir! Either name an heir or step aside and pick a successor!”

“I am coming to that Wind Bag.”

The king turned to address the Kirin delegate. “Fern Flare, by that umm blaze out in the hall, I take it that the anxieties Rain Shine XXII raised are still of concern. That magic has returned, and it was not just a momentary problem?”

“Yes, your majesty, and I apologize for that shameful display. These events may have affected the Saddle Arabians, Zebricans and Minotaurs only slightly, but for us the return of magic has had devastating effects. Our cities are in flames, the fields of the countryside lay in ruin. Our entire way of life is threatened. The sudden return to the troubles of the past have brought devastating consequences. Indeed, I am here to ask for aid. Without it, the Kirin nation faces famine and starvation.”

“The Kirin have always been good neighbors who would assist us whenever help was requested. Our larders are full, and our harvests have been bountiful. I will see to it that our surplus is loaded on board ships and sent through the straits to aid your people in their time of need, indeed I have already given orders to this effect.

“So, I take it then that there has been no word from the insular ponies of Equestria, no word from the silence of Canterlot, no explanation for the sudden change in Equestrian policy? No reason why they have abrogated all of the terms of ancient agreements?”

“No, your majesty.”

“If the Kirin, the Zebricans and Saddle Arabians are to be believed this is an existential threat to all of us.” The king turned aside looking out the window over the harbor. “We must determine the cause of these new events… immediately.

“We must send troops to Canterlot at once to secure an understanding of and learn the meaning of this sudden change.” He turned his head to look at the generals.”

Wind Bag spoke “Iron Horse, your cousin said Canterlot was lying abandoned and that its fabled Tower lay in ruins.”

“While I love my cousin dearly, no creature can expect us to take her word seriously. We all saw her journey alone into the wilderness west of Zebrat supposedly to circle the world to the left, and when she returned almost two decades later supposedly from the east all she had to show for it was a couple of scars, and a lot of tall tales and no proof. Now she’s infected her nephew Foreman with the same madness. I had to arrest him just to stop him from traipsing off on retracing her steps on a journey to the east to Sydneigh or some such nonsense.”

“Others have said the same my Lord.” said Mish Mash.

“And others return equally with no proof. I want to know what has happened, and I will not be satisfied with rumors and half-truths. The Armed Forces are here to ensure the safety of Istanbull are they not?”

“Of course, we are your majesty.” General Chop-Chop said. Admiral Perfect Storm and Skycaptain Second Wind echoed his affirmation.

“I command each of you to make an expedition to the pony lands. Go there yourselves and bring back someone who knows why this is happening. Do this, and whomever returns first shall pick the name of my successor. Take whomever you would choose with you. Unless and until I have an heir of my own, they shall rule after me.” The generals stood speechlessly.

“What are you waiting on? Go!”

“Yes SIR!” “My lord!” “Immediately!” The three chiefs of the armed forces scrambled from the room.

The Zebrican delegate again approached the throne. “What Tendai?”

The well-spoken zebra, a holdover from 10 changes in Zebra regimes in as many years nodded to his Saddle Arabian counterparts. “Zebrenica and Saddle Arabia both have vested interests in the succession to the throne of Istanbull.”

“Yes?”

“We would never presume to pressure the selection of a successor to the Taurian throne…. But some candidates might be… preferable than others. Unless you object. I, I mean we, yes, we would like to send observers. Military observers with the expeditions you intend to send. To get a feel for the candidates who might be selected you understand?”

“To undermine whomever, you don’t like you mean?” The king glared at the two diplomats. “Very well, honestly the factions all back different undesirable ones but undesirable for different reasons. I suppose it is in my best interest that the least undesirable one is selected. You may send advisors with each expedition; I’ll appoint them personally. Two to each, one from both of you? “Three please” said Fern Flare. “We also have interests?”

“Fine, three each. Send patent letters to Mish Mash tonight and I'll approve them. With them out of my horns I can finally concentrate on important things.” He stood up.

He found the elderly noble bull standing in his way. “So, you intend to cut the nobility out of the succession just like that?” half snarled Wind Bag.

“Feel free to mount your own expedition or appeal to the military chiefs to have your own candidate selected. The nobility has had decades to help the throne govern. We’ve managed without your support so far. I think we can manage a bit further.” Iron Hoof stepped around the angry noble.

Rendered speechless by rage, the old aristocrat said nothing as the king calmly exited. Tossing his horns and pulling at his scruffy beard Wind Bag stalked from the court followed by a dozen sycophants.

17. Wakey, Wakey Eggs and Catfish

“Now this is where the record gets strange. Far Seer, a distant ancestor of mine and the namesake founder of Farsai once personally asked the celestial alicorns about the true history of the world and magic once at a state dinner, after the sisters had retired. They had all indulged in drinking to an outrageous extent and were quite intoxicated. He recorded the conversation on some magical device and wrote down his recordings.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

17. Wakey, Wakey Eggs and Catfish.

Gwendolyn awoke in the dark, a blade was at her throat.

“It's time to go pretty cat bird.” said Rizi tapping the griffon’s chest gently with the point of her own spear.

The griffon made to lunge forward and grab the spear, but found her wings wrapped in her own blanket and her overcoat sleeve laces tied behind her legs. She rolled onto her face gracelessly and stared bound helplessly up at the kobold who chuckled.

“Pretty quiet now, yes, eh?” She smiled down at the griffon. Gwen began to panic. What had happened, how had the little lizard gotten the drop on her? Rizi just sat there for a moment.

“Serious lesson, stay awake on watch, ok?” Rizi tapped her beak gently then tossed the spear aside. She waited for Gwen to calm down a bit and then undid the griffon's little bindings.

“Not funny, lizard. I would've peed myself, but I was too scared.” The griffon angrily retied her laces.

“Rizi sorry but was not Rizi’s idea,” she guessed meditation with her inner dragon wouldn’t be necessary this morning.

“Well, whose idea was it! I don’t see anybody else here with us?” Gwen asked angrily. She started gathering her things together.

“Little blue ghost Dragon Lord super angry. She says:” and Rizi’s voice completely changed - it was similar but higher and somehow more authoritative “Rizi, that idiot griffon Gwen fell asleep. She said she was a soldier. I thought I was dealing with professionals here. Quietly now, tie her legs to her sleeves and wrap her wings up tight in that blanket. If she was under my command, I'd have her court martialed or worse. We’re at war. That’s it, now poke her awake with that.”

“At war, at war with who, with what?” Said Gwen, very disturbed. It was like there had been a third person there for a moment, a third person that reminded Gwen very strongly somehow of a very loud drill sergeant Giron at the Pinnacle academy.

“With the last nightmare Rizi hopes.” Rizi finished packing and passed Gwen a strip of dried meat.

“What? Nightmare, what nightmare, Nightmare Moon?” She packed hurriedly, as Rizi was already leaving. How could someone fight bad dreams?

“Rizi thought Rizi explained.” She began to lead Gwen back to the highway east. “Rizi on a quest from Dragon Lord Scorch.” Rizi hopped over one crack, then another using her walking stick.

“Got that.” Gwen was having trouble keeping up and had to hop soaring from cracked concrete block to block.

“Magic back, quest is to learn why.” Rizi hopped over a stream without getting wet and scrambled an embankment in three bounds.

Gwen gave up walking after her and took to the air. “Got that too, but I thought you said Scorch became Dragon Lord and then the magic returned.”

“Dragon Lord effect, magic back is cause.”

“Okay” well that made more sense. Gwen hurried to catch up to the quick little kobold, then landed while listening.

“Way back, all of Equestria fought nightmares.” Rizi said, hopping over another crack in the pavement with her sharp stick.

“Uh ok, who?” Gwen flapped her brown wings and caught back up.

“Alicorn, griffon, dragon, zebra, yak, even monsters.”

“Griffons too. Huh.” Well, if everyone else was fighting it sounded like something griffons would do. “Um ok.”

“Alicorns say nightmares kill everyone unless stopped.” Rizi said, stabbing a beetle with her stick and preparing to pop it into her mouth.

“That sounds bad.” Gwen looked at the bug. It didn’t look particularly appetizing, but she’d eaten worse in basic.

“Very bad.” Crunch. “Everyone gave up magic to stop nightmares.”

“Okay.”

“Magic back, maybe nightmares.” Said Rizi, taking a drink from her canteen.

“Maybe or definitely?” Being tied up and poked awake felt like more than maybe.

Rizi sighed. “Definitely at least one.” She looked Gwen in the eye. “Looked like shadow with black eyes.”

Looking into Rizi’s orange eyes, Gwen could not doubt that Rizi was being truthful. Gwen swallowed and shifted in her armor.

It was warming up. The clouds were thinning as they often did around noon by the seacoast.

“Heard it too, in dream, make threats.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Gwen said. It seemed hard to believe in, horrible shadow monsters in the bright sunlight. It was a strange thing to be afraid of in the bright daylight. Still…. Gwen remembered the steel at her throat. Obviously, the little kobold believed what she was saying.

Rizi nodded. “Nightmare enemy to all.” She began to walk carefully towards a stand of familiar trees. “Nightmare can tempt other creatures with power”. Rizi looked at Gwen and stopped walking for a moment. “Strong magic like alicorn.” She looked down at her claws for a moment, rubbing them together. “Faeries let those nightmares loose.”

“Fey destroyed a thousand dragons making us,” Rizi gestured at her chest with closed eyes. “Maybe using nightmares to finish the job?” She looked up and steadily at Gwen. There was a bright fire in her orange eyes. “Rizi must save dragons and try to stop.”

Turning she gestured to the clearing they had reached. “Here is camp, see fire and bones?”

Gwen carefully walked through the camp, gesturing for Rizi to remain in place.

Scattered among the fire were the remains of seven sets of tracks that Gwen could find. Rizi and her own and five other griffons. Gwen picked up a stone that didn’t belong. Rizi hadn’t noticed it before. Lifting it carefully straight up Gwen showed her that on the underside was a scrawled arrow. The arrow pointed north.

18. Giselle

“Celestia insisted and Luna agreed that this world we live in Equis was not ‘the real world’. That this world was ‘made up’ and was like the real one in many ways but after the alicorns had escaped from a pocket reality where they and an ancestor of the spirit of Chaos whom they termed “the flaw” had been trapped to this new one, they brought the ‘automata’ of their old reality with them. This they said is what allowed magic to function in Equestria, what they termed the head of the chain of creation. Discord they claimed was but one of many fragments of a less pleasant Discord from an ancient and parallel past.”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

18. Giselle

The line to the great Hall of Heroes, Griffonstone’s seat of governance, stretched for nearly a block. Giselle found herself there in the morning waiting like every other hen to speak to the King or his representatives.

She passed the time gossiping with the other hens. This was a lady’s day though, and like every griffon she found herself in a long line of young and old female griffons. Other than the guards and an occasional messenger there were no toms in evidence. The line proceeded smoothly, orderly, and efficiently so there by noon she found herself in the great Hall.

All the gossip in the lines had been about the strange changes that had miraculously taken place in the Griffin world. Suddenly griffins found they could stand on clouds, shape them, compress them, and push them around. They could even give them a hard kick to make them give brief rain showers and even lightning if compressed till they were black! They could hover now seemingly effortlessly. The markets were full of fish and game. The creatures of the natural world had not yet adjusted to the Griffin’s new hunting prowess. Twenty griffons had hunted a whale yesterday and were the wonder of the day, having hauled it THROUGH THE AIR back to the docks west of Griffonstone.

The endless winds were a gentle breeze. Flights of griffons were rotating counterclockwise through Griffonstone. The weather had never been this good in living memory.

Some said the alicorns had come again, returning from whatever ethereal spaces they had left for. There were stranger tales, an earth pony floating by aloft on balloons, lights in the sky like those of the far north, tiny bug ponies gliding by, and tales of a strange dream guardian - not a blue alicorn, but a tiny angry blue dragon that would smash nightmares and move on with hardly a word! Many swore these tales were true, and some had seen several of these things and all had seen some. She rather disbelieved a few. That floating earth pony and the friendly well-groomed sea serpent to her seemed just to be tall tales.

The oldest griffons, the greybeards of the Pinnacle of Wisdom, were full of words of caution, warning that it was somehow bad, that these wonderful things would bring untold tragedy and grief. The advanced school attached to the ancient griffon military academy had enormous prestige, but little influence. The younger griffons paid them no mind, wise though they might be. Ignoring the wisdom of the elders was a Griffonstone tradition.

The line broke into three and clerks stood at the head of each with a sign. One sign read marriages and licenses, another taxes and assistance, and the third read simply “other”. She joined the “other” line.

The equerry, clerk and by his sash and cross, a companion to the king talked earnestly and kindly with the matronly looking hen ahead of her. The hen in front of her smiled, thanked him and went back to the slightly longer marriage line.

“Name?”

“Giselle Grimfeathers”

“Occupation?”

“Nestmaker, and baker.”

“Marital status?”

“Engaged”

The handsome young green feathered clerk looked up. “Do you want an egg license?”

“Well yes, but that is not why I’m here.”

“I ask because they are giving them away. To whomever asks. Up to THREE. Right now, that line. You can come back to me in a minute. Now go on shoo!”

A few minutes later she found that yes, they HAD been giving them away. She had nearly fainted. She had expected to get the free customary one, and another after her first hatchling was flying as was traditional for those with good genes and jobs, but a third license was unheard of without serious bribes, buying one from the desperate or unlucky or a very long wait. She had tickets for four. The hen at the front of the line had taken one look at her and said, you have wide hips, I bet you have twins. Here… take another. And just like that had handed over four tickets. 1, 2, 3, 4. She counted them again and again. Now she was at the front of the other line again.

The young green clerk smiled up at her, his beak wrinkling at the edges. She could have chicks, FOUR chicks… if Gerrard ever came back. Just like that the tears returned, and she burst out crying, sobbing into the feathered chest of a noble stranger in the Hall of Heroes.

19. Feather Express

“Princess Skystar, what have you done?! You know surface dwellers are forbidden here! GUARDS!”

—Queen Novo of Seaquestria

19. Feather Express

Diamond Flitter tore through the skies over Zephyr Heights. His blue mane steaming out behind him, he beat his white wings and pointed his hooves towards the newly reactivated airship mail station. As he made the final turn over the palace, he saw a sight that took his breath away.

The air streamer Hurricane was floating through the nearly windless air. The Celestium lifter above the hull glowed softly.

It was an amazing sight. 6 decks and 100 lengths long and nearly a hundred years old, sleek metal and wood. The ropes had all been replaced, and new canvas snapped along the contraptions hull. Forty pegassai held it roughly in place with mooring lines. Dozens more hovered nearby. Queen Haven was standing on the upper deck with a few of her guard next to a large burly grey unicorn and a blonde, pink earth pony. A few other pegassai, unicorns and earth ponies were running back and forth tying things down and making small adjustments. The airship was afloat again, flying on its own a few hundred lengths from the cavernous palace hanger. Dozens of other airships, most much older were laying inside in reserve awaiting their turn for reactivation.

A hundred thousand pegassai had worked in these docks over the years. Dangling the ships from giant cranes over the cliffs to practice landing drills and teamwork. Learning to repair and replace the ancient equipment that was a vital part of training and drill in carrying out complex orders and following complex instruction. Experiments in flying using triple gasbags and lifting physics alone had yielded barely workable and dangerous results, and a few airships had been lost.

The pegassai had never accepted that the loss of their magic was permanent – after all their royals could fly. They had maintained the air fleet in a state of ready reserve for forty generations now. In a way the airship fleet was a tangible link to the glories of the past, and its maintenance by the pegassai royal guard was their oldest tradition, handed down to them by the last wonder bolt, and founder of Zephyr Hills Rainbow Dash herself.

Diamond changed course slightly and he headed toward the fantail of the airship it.

Raising his right hoof Diamond Flitter saluted the royal ensign, then turned to the officer standing at the gangplank which now extended out over the void. Landing gently, he saluted the mare officer on deck standing there and shouted “Greetings to the ship! Ma'am, I request permission to come on board. Courier 1st class Diamond Flitter to deliver missives to Queen Haven."

“Come abord Diamond” said the officer, “she’s on the upper deck. Take that ladder there.” She pointed with a wing and nod. Diamond quickly climbed up the proper ladder.

The reporter Dazzle Feather was filming the launch, Dimond had to work around them to approach the dignitaries and the royal guards.

Stating his business, they waved him through, and he opened his satchel and gave the queen her missives from Bridlewood and Maretime Bay. Smiling she watched him turn and walk away to await her pleasure.

Taking her eyes of Diamond Flitter, Queen Haven glanced through the brief missives.

“What’s this about a fire in Bridlewood?” The queen peered over her sunglasses at him.

“A colt set his home on fire trying to light a candle. Everyone was ok, but it caused quite a stir. He got his cutie mark.” Diamond explained. The queen chuckled at that and smiled.

“Glad no one was hurt,” she said. Queen Haven looked over at the broad large grey unicorn “Hey Alphabittle, I take it back. It’s harder raising unicorns. Set a house on fire getting a cutie mark. Ha! Ha! - Hmmm. No.” She shook her head. “We had so many missing colts and fillies flying out windows and doors over the last few weeks. I guess we are not the only ones. We should get the word out and warn everyone. It seems magic is more dangerous to unicorns than it is to pegassai!”

“I’d think flying into danger would be worse,” Alphabittle said. He was watching his friends charge a large blue crystal. It had been flickering but was now an uneven but solid blue. He nodded. The Bridlewood unicorns signaled to the earth ponies. The four ponies lifted the crystal using main strength to lever the crystal into the large central slot. It locked back and forth slightly rotating as it was secured and balanced. At soon as it was in place, the metal gauges on the helm began to climb to green values.

“We’re ready” Alphabittle said to Phillis Cloverleaf. Phillis nodded, “Alphabittle, your majesty”. “Anchor stallions, give her a turn!” the four earth ponies grabbed hold of a capstan, and began to turn it slowly, dragging the anchor up higher and higher. As it left the ground, the airship slowly began to drift. The anchor clicked up one notch at a time as the anchor windlass below deck took up the notches of the chain. At each click the crystal rotated slightly. In less than a minute the anchor had been fully raised.

“Would you care to do the honors your majesty?” asked Captain Weathervane, turning to face the three leaders. “Just push this button here, close the handle and move the lever all the way forward. Then let go the handle and button when you hear me say ‘mark’.”

The queen moved to do as directed.

“WARE THE ANCHOR, ANCHOR DROP ON MY MARK!”

“3, 2, 1, MARK”

The queen let go of the handle.

The anchor dropped 50 feet, in seconds, a clicking sound was heard as each chain link lowered, and the central crystal spun faster and faster. When the chain finally stopped the crystal was a solid flicker.

“Anchor stallions, raise her back up!” Phillis Cloverleaf shouted. The earth ponies began to raise the anchor again, it went quicker this time. Soon the anchor was back aboard.

“Your majesty, our motivator is green, would like to give us an order to engage the drivetrain, spin the props and take her out?” asked the captain.

“Oh yes, let’s do that.” She looked out over the deck of the airship, “Engage the propellers!”

“Release stays.” shouted the captain. The forty flying pegassai returned to the deck drawing their lines up behind them. Diamond Flitter watched the captain give a nod to a midshipman, who moved the throttle to ready.

The captain said, “Three Knots”. The midshipman moved the gear and the Hurricane’s two enormous propellers began to spin. The ship began to slowly move ahead. A few minutes later, the dignitaries each had a turn at the helm, as for the first time in living memory a pony airship circled the peaks of Zephyr Hills.

Dazzle Feather and her film crew returned to focus on the Queen. She spoke for a few minutes congratulating the royal guard on the successful launch of the ship and thanking the unicorns of Bridlewood, the ponies of Maretime Bay and Alphabittle Blossomforth and Phillis Cloverleaf for their assistance in ushering in a renaissance of travel, commerce, and progress for all pony kind. The interview wound down, and she passed the missives she had received to the news crew saying only that they “should emphasize that no one was hurt, and Zephyr Heights will try and assist our neighbors as we all adjust to this brand-new world.”

Turning to Diamond Flitter, Queen Haven said “Good job Courier. Squire Diamond Flitter, isn’t it? Go get some rest. Tomorrow I’d like to send you back to Bridlewood to help the family whose home burned down. See what assistance they need and help them ok?”

Diamond Flitter saluted and walked to the gangplank. The Queen’s eyes followed his muscular stride. His generous wingspan provided a pretty show as he leapt into the air and twirled once and flew away. She sighed and returned to her work, perking up immediately when she saw Alphabittle was free.

In the hanger Diamond Flitter, reported in, and then prepared to turn in for the night. He flew to his quarters. His roommate Barrier Jet was there, greeted him, and gave him a first bump. “You were on the news! Check it out!” There he was aboard the Hurricane, standing after having given the missives to the queen.

Barrier Jet had the screen paused and rewound the feed and hit play. It was definitive.

Queen Haven had been checking out his rump.

20. Paths in the Dark

Apparently, the original Equestria from a pocket universe overlaid the new one, though this new world was far superior to the rest of this reality, as it had magic and the rest of it did not. With friendship, magic would grow and grow until one day it would fill the universe. There was talk of mirror realities, parallel and fictional universes, the distinctions between those and other worlds of the chain of creation, of creation stones and the elements of harmony, harmony trees, the nature of chaos and harmony, the breaking of physical laws, gravitational sheer and stars orbiting planets at 22% of light-speed - whatever that is. They discussed the use of metaphysical automata for performing magic, spells, and the differences between thaumatons, photons, neutrons and humons and if they were all related. Causality and locality were discussed and dismissed as was the nature of the idea of experiment and observation. The discussion grew more and more bizarre, until Luna threw up in a potted plant and Celestia put her to bed.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

20. Paths in the Dark

The trail they soon picked up led straight through the fens, to drier ground. In no time at all the kobold and griffon had reached a low set of hills that rose out of the wetlands. The correct path was obvious from the air and Gwen directed Rizi from above. Rizi trailed below and gaffed a pair of frogs, a turtle, and a muskrat. Then she just stopped hunting. Every few yards led to more and more wildlife. At noon they stopped at a clearing where another old campfire lay. The bones of many small creatures and a fish lay in the ashes. Rekindling the fire, they made a quick meal and were on their way. They talked little but the hum of insects and the songs of birds kept them company. They made good time and had passed two more campsites, each fresher than the last by the time the evening came.

It was plain from the way the ground was disturbed that at least one and periodically probably two of the griffins had been walking at this point.

“It's dark Rizi, we should stop, so we don’t miss the trail.”

“Gwen, we won't, Rizi sees it.”

“How?”

“Kobolds see heat in the dark. Outlines, grass, trees, path, dirt and water.”

“You can see the path?”

“Yes, better now that it's dark.”

“Well, I'm not tired just yet. If you are willing to press on, I'll follow you from up here.”

Rizi nodded, then realizing Gwen couldn’t see her gesture in the moonless black said aloud “okay, yes”.

They went straight on till morning, passing a campsite with warm coals just as the sun was rising. A small brook fed some quiet pools where some wild birds were hunting fish. It was a beautiful place.

“We have to stop Rizi, my wings are falling off. I need sleep.”

“Is okay, Rizi takes the first watch.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Gwen began to dress their dinner.

“Work long hours, sometimes two, three days. If tribe or dragon, ask no problem.”

“That's some work ethic. No tribe or dragons around here.” Setting a brace of rabbits to cook, she sprinkled some herbs and salt on.

“Not so, Scorch order, inner dragon too.” Rizi flattened the embers of the fire. “Doriz, Prioress asked also.”

“Is that like a priest?” Gwen began to strip out of her gear as the meal cooked.

“Priestess answer to All-Watcher only, yes.” Rizi paused. “Probably Rizi’s mother.” She continued quietly, “Same color, same eyes, same size.”

“You don’t know?” Folding her clothes carefully Gwen sharpened and waxed the steel.

“Hatchery is communal. Not important, only tribe and dragon matter.” Rizi adjusted her rapier a notch.

“Kobolds and griffons are very different. Even though we both come from eggs.”

“Not so very different. Virtues are the same as ours. Friendship, loyalty, kindness, joy, helping, and truth. Griffons are just like kobolds. All-Watcher says all creatures are same.”

“That so?” Gwen scraped the bones off her plate into the fire.

“Rizi can prove it is so. Ever hear of tiny Dragon Lord Spike?” Rizi paused in building up the campfire from embers.

“Another Dragon Lord? How many do you guys have?” Gwen laid out her bedroll.

“Only one at a time… usually? Six in thousand years Is not many. Spike hatched and raised by ponies. Shortest reign ever, less than an hour.”

“Did he die or something?”

“No, changed dragons forever, quit. Spike brought friendship to dragons.”

“Seriously?”

“Was called Spike the Brave and Glorious. Friend to all creatures, legend.”

“Kobolds and dragons sure like your leaders.”

“Not called by us, by crystal ponies. Save from evil unicorn.”

“What, those see-through guys who supposedly lived in the frozen north with a magic heart gem?”

Rizi nodded.

“Hate to break it to you. There was a great big expedition there two hundred years back. There was nothing. Just ice.” Gwen rolled over and became quiet.

The fire crackled and popped. Rizi sat in silence and thought about nightmares. She was going to say more, but Gwen was already snoring.

Rizi missed her clutch mates and the dragons. Her little blue inner dragon was silent as well. Rizi looked up into the sky. It was cold and dark. In that moment she felt every step of the canters between her and home. Gwen was nice company, but she wasn't a kobold. Rizi felt very small looking up at the constellations. Immortales Alicornis was particularly bright tonight, but she stared up at Draco, which hung over the mountain range southeast now. Rizi wondered if Doriz or any of the others was looking up at the same stars.

Her bedroll seemed to have shrunk in the night. She cleaned her rapier, polished her petrel, bathed, and trimmed her claws and spines. The kobold that looked up at her from the little brook near their camp looked a little more careworn and older than the one that had set out. Soon she had polished her scales as well and repacked. Maybe she should try and rustle up a fish or some birds? Dawn was not too far away now, and it would be wise to get a jump on the day tomorrow.

21. Ante Up

Poni, Farsi, Zebric, and Chirp share similar syntax, grammar, and hundreds of so-called ultra-conserved words with Kýrios or Kynikós, though the written forms share no common symbols, and those last two have no written form at all and are more like each other than to anything else.

—Pena “On Language and Magic”

21. Ante Up

Near Taurkapi palace Ground Pounder Lieutenants Marshal and Taker sleazed up to the counter at the Saddle-Arabian bar Twilight dragging their buddy the slightly intoxicated Navy Lieutenant Close Shave along between them. They were celebrating the Manatee’s departure in the morning, and what the Ground Pounders both termed Shave’s likely “watery demise” in the eastern sea. They ordered three more ales and resumed their conversation.

“Shave, why would you let your uncle put you up to it?”

“I had to guys. I have the best marks in all our classes, in years, no offense Taker, I know you let me score higher than you on purpose in tactics, and I’m thankful. I’m Navy, I’m an officer, and nobody hates my dad. It’s a crazy honor. If King Iron Hoof Long May His Glorious Reign Last were to kick it, they’d make me King, well if we win the race that is. That’s crazy. But he doesn’t have a kid, and all his family died fighting the Black Sultan or followed him and are disqualified.” He slammed his tankard down, gesturing for another. “Wish the king would just have a kid.”

“I hear he has other interests,” said Risk Taker.

“There’s the Bags,” observed Marshal sipping his ale.

“Everyone hates them” said Taker, “The only reason Wind didn’t end up hanged is because he came out for Iron after the fact and got the steers to stab Black Ball in the back. If that hadn’t happened the social war would still be going on.”

“I heard Black was going to hang the Bags for piracy, but was too slow on the draw,” said Close Shave. “Politics is a rough game.” He looked down at his drink introspectively.

“Speaking of games, lets join one. Do you see those rich Arabians over there? I’d like to take some rings from them and those other foreigners.” said Risk.

“The good looking one, that’s Prince Haakem, of Saddle Arabia, the other slightly less good looking one is Harabi, his younger brother. There are like 19 Saddle Arabian princes. The kirin over there is ambassadress Green Leaves.” said Marshal. Harabi and Green Leaves are going with us. I think Haakem is going with you Shave.”

“Who are the two stripes?” asked Close Shave.

“Don’t them year you say that - they think it’s an insult. The one on the left is some doctor fellow. Chemist or alchemist. Kept going on about gasses, solutions, and elements. I met him at a mixer at the palace a while back. And the mare is… Bookhorse?” said Marshal.

“That’s not her name” said Risk Taker looking at the studious looking mare. She was pretty for a Zebra in a nerdy sort of way with reading glasses and her mane in a bun and tail in a braid.

“Well, it’s what she does,” said Marshal. “She reads books, writes books and studies.”

“She seems interested in that Prince Harabi fellow.”

“Maybe he smells like paste and ink?”

“Well, I don’t know but they all look like they have too many rings and not enough luck.”

“Let’s go help them out then,” said Close Shave. “In the interest of international cooperation and trade.”

“What are we trading?” asked Marshal

“Our luck for their rings,” answered Marshal.

“Seems fair,” said Risk.

—

There was just one spot at the table. The three lieutenant minotaurs pooled their rings and agreed to take turns at losses. The game was minotaur draw. 100 ring antes, with a 1500 ring limit. An ace to draw 4, and no joker.

Risk Taker volunteered to be the first to throw some money away. Neither Prince Hakeem or the Doctor Zebra fellow were playing but they stood by talking and conversing.

8♣9♣10♣10♠Q♥. Green Leaves folded immediately. Prince Harabi called. ‘Bookhorse’ smiled at Prince Harabi and called also.

Risk Taker knew it was stupid but threw in his 10♠. ‘Never draw to an inside straight. Dumb.’ 10♥ - of course Call, call, call. Then failure. But everyone else had better cards than he had even if he’d tossed the Q♥. ‘Bookhorse’s’ full house beat Harabi’s 3 kings. Risk Taker swapped for his friend Marshal, and got a new drink.

9♠J♣Q♠Q♣A♥. Call, call, call. Marshal kept the ace and queens. Drew garbage 7♣,8♠. Considered folding call, call, call, call. Surprisingly won. 7♦7♣10♣J♦Q♦. Ugh. Green Leaves folded again. Prince Harabi bid 500, call, raise 500, call, call. Marshal kept all his cards. Fold, fold, fold. Well, that worked out. 9♦10♥Q♥K♥K♠. Marshal raised 100, call, Harabi folded, call. Marshall kept the kings. Drew two 9’s and a queen. Raise 300. Green Leaves folded again. ‘Bookhorse’ called. Kings and 9’s beat ‘Bookhorse’s’ 2 pair. ‘Bookhorse’ got a sour look on her face.

7♦8♦8♣Q♣K♣. Check, check, check, ‘Bookhorse’ went all in. Marshal called. Green Leaves folded. Prince Harabi called. Kept the 8’s. No help. Check, raise 300, call. Harabi’s aces and kings beat his pair and ‘Bookhorse’s’ jacks. ‘Bookhorse’ sighed, smiled, pushed her glasses up and said, “Good night, dear prince, I must away to bed.” in accented Poni. She smiled at Harabi and walked away. Haakem whispered a translation into Harabi’s ear. Prince Harabi’s smiled waved goodbye and said something in Farsi, his eyes followed her braided tail out the door.

Close Shave finished his drink and sat down heavily. 8♣8♠Q♦A♣A♠. No one else joined the table. Close shave raised 400, call, call. Toss the Q♦. A red face card back. Q♥. Well, no worse off. Harabi bid 300. Close shave grimaced, and called, Green Leaves folded again. She chuckled “No good cards tonight.” Harabi won with two pair.

Risk Taker sat down again. Harabi raised his eyebrows at this. 7♦9♠J♥Q♠K♥. Risk taker smiled. What a perfect opportunity to show he had learned nothing. He checked and tossed the 7♦ and got an A♦ back. He bid 100. Everyone else checked. Green Leaves finally won a pitiful pot with 2 pair, aces, and kings to Harabi’s lower two pair. Risk Taker giggled uproariously, and Marshal sat down again.

7♠7♦9♥9♦K♠. Marshal looked at Green Leaves. He looked at her chips. He bid 400. She folded. Harabi matched him. He tossed the king. He considered tossing the 7’s. Harabi bid 60. Marshal called. His 2 pair beat the princes 10s. 7♠8♣10♣Q♦Q♣. 300 rings fold and fold. 8♠9♥9♦10♦J♠. 380. Green Leaves went all in. Prince Harabi folded. He also folded his ears down. He tossed the 9♦ and got a 7♠ to complete his straight. It may have been Marshal’s imagination, but Marshal could have sworn the big Kirin’s eyes flickered with flame briefly. With a sigh her three of a kind had Green Leaves leave the table.

8♣9♣10♣7♦Q♣. Prince Harabi bid 300. Marshal raised to 1300. Prince Harabi folded. 7♠9♥10♣K♦A♦. Marshal bid 1200. Prince Harabi folded. 4♥5♣10♠K♦K♣. Marshal bid 1000. Prince Harabi folded. Two tens, raise 1000. Prince Harabi folded. Two pair, bid 1500. Prince Harabi folded. A pair, bid 1500. Prince Harabi folded. K♣A♣, bid 1500. Prince Harabi folded. 7♥7♠10♣Q♥Q♣. Prince Harabi sighed, and went all in. Three Jacks and Marsal shamefacedly stood up.

Close Shave sat back down. 7♠7♣8♦Q♥K♦. 720 Harabi folded. 9♥9♦10♥K♣A♥. Keep the ace. 620 Harabi folded. 8♣8♠K♣A♣A♠. Tossed the K♣. Harabi went all in. Three jacks. Close Shave shook his head at the table stood up, and Risk Taker polished off his drink and sat down.

“Well prince. Our friend must sail tomorrow, so this must be the last hoof. What say we both just go all in?”

Haakem and Harabi spoke quietly in Farsi for a moment. Then Prince Hakeem said in accented Poni “My bother must also sail tomorrow. He asks, are you playing for yourself or for your Navy friend?”

“Well, for him. We’re also in the race, but Close Shave is a candidate for the succession. Well, if the navy wins. We would be bad sports if we weren’t backing our friend. It’s just a little adventure for us, but it’s his whole life win or lose.”

Haakem and Harabi spoke quietly. Haakem addressed them. “My brother and I agree. You all risk much by racing, so win or lose, no hard feelings.” Both Risk Taker and Harabi pushed all the rings into the center. 10 cards were dealt out. 8♣8♠J♠A♣A♠. Risk Taker took nothing. Harabi changed a single card. He showed his hoof. 9♦9♥Q♦Q♥K♠. Smiling he stood up. Risk Taker made a fist and they tapped fist and hoof together, hoof bumping. The prince smiled ruefully and bowed slightly.

Smiling, the three lieutenants gathered their rings, and bought a round for the house as they began to sing the old pony drinking song:

“A true, true, friend helps a friend in need
A friend will be there to help them see
A true, true, friend helps a friend in need
To see the light that shines from a true, true, friend!!”

Singing and swaying, they grabbed a drink for the road and laughing strode from the tavern and into the city night.

22. Royal Race

Twilight Sparkle was asked in her throne-room about the history of the world and said simply that friendship is magic, and the spirits of the elements of harmony are what cause it to grow. She said the laughter, kindness, honesty, generosity, and loyalty between friends underpinned the foundations of harmony and that the Equis Creature Coalition was founded to extend that harmony throughout creation. She launched into a long discussion of the Tower of Harmony Project and Far Seer never got her back on track to continue the original thread of the conversation.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

1. Royal Race

Mish Mash set the newspapers down neatly folded to the front page on his majesty’s breakfast table. Iron Hoof gestured for the majordomo to join him. The paper had a picture of the refitted Sea Cow, now renamed the Manatee on the cover. It had a great big round thing at its rear.

“Your majesty, they are calling it The Great Race. The navy claims their fastest ship will be setting out in the morning. Perfect Storm claims the Manatee is the fastest modern ship ever. Four sails, a crew of 200 with and 300 marines. The admiral has selected his nephew Lieutenant Close Shave as his candidate for succession. He claims close hauled they can make a good 6 knots and they have a secret weapon to cut the sailing time dramatically.”

“Yes, that diamond dog contraption. Burns coal. Stinks to high heaven. Breaks down constantly. Catches fire. Stirs up muck and flings it everywhere.”

“Well, the Skyforce claims they have a secret weapon too. Their new quadruple balloon has one of those contraptions too.”

“Yes, the prototype. The dogs let that go for nothing. Apparently taking it home was cost prohibitive.”

“How’d they get the big one here?” The major domo asked, his bushy mustache spilling crumbs onto his other newspaper.

“They didn’t. We let them use our iron, forges and labor and they gave us the plans. It’s a stupid design. I have Bullpen working on a better one. We have better ones in the archives.”

“And the ground pounders?”

The king laughed. “They claim they’re going to run it!”

“That’s impossible. It's over 3000 canters by ground, 4800 kilo lengths! All of the old maps show at least four of five rivers and bodies of water.”

“Well, the closest ones have fords or ferries and once you get above Zebrabwe if you hug the mountains you can walk to Canterlot on the northwest side and never cross a river.”

“He also hasn’t announced his candidate. Keeping it close to his chest I guess?”

“Maybe he doesn’t have a favorite. Chop-Chop was always apolitical. Maybe he’ll award it to the first runner to get back.

“Ha! That sounds like him.”

“Well, they are taking one hundred fifty-two wheeled rickshaws and 500 bulls.” The king sipped his coffee. “They claim they can do 50 canters or better in a day. And if they can, they can be there in 60 days and back again before the year is out. Chop-chop is going to leave the slowest behind as he goes. Claims he might be there in half that time.

“The wind will shift by then.”

“Well of course it will, but you forget your majesty. The navy still must get back. If you’d declared this a few months ago, the Royal Navy would win no contest. Take the trade winds both ways. But now? It's anybody’s race. Well except for the Skyforce. The technology just isn’t there yet.”

“I don’t know. Ferdinand is resourceful. Second Wind is giving him gold rings like they are candy. They might surprise us.”

“It's a long shot though. He picked little Foreman as his candidate.”

“My distaff nephew? Is he trying to suck up to me?”

“I doubt it sir. He genuinely believes the little scamp is as smart as he thinks he is.”

“Oh, he’s smart. His feet aren’t on the ground is his problem. He’d make a terrible king. The rival candidates would have him killed before the year was out.”

“Shall we go to the docks tomorrow to wish the navy a fond farewell?”

“You know what Mish Mash; I think we shall.”

23. Lullabies in Griffonstone

Hush now, quiet now,
It's time to lay your sleepy head,
Hush now, quiet now,
It's time to go to bed,

Driftin' (driftin') off to sleep,
Exciting day behind you,
Driftin' (driftin') off to sleep,
Let the joy of dream land find you,

Hush now, quiet now,
Lay your sleepy head,
Gush now, quiet now,
It's time to go to bed,

—Traditional Pegasus Nursery Rhyme

23. Lullabies in Griffonstone

Standing outside the door of the stairs leading down to the prince Sersjant Golivir shivered in his gold cloak and tried to ignore the occasional screams coming from the subterranean chamber. Everyone knew the golden prince was troubled. Sleeping below ground in the security wing of the palace with only a tiny floor level window behind two thick oak doors was only one symptom of his precarious mental condition.

The prince had moved to his dismal quarters directly from his old rooms at the Pinnacle of Wisdom, the military school and monastery. He left those rooms the day he graduated but had never actually given his rooms in the eastern tower back to the academy. Gerald never gave anything back if he didn’t have to. Occasionally he would store things there. Usually, creatures that would be inconvenient to the security forces if released, or if held in a more conventional prison. Sometimes those things were brought from there to here. Kicking and screaming.

The international Red Hoof sometimes conducted inspections of Griffonstone’s prisons. Nothing ever came of it. The Red Hoof didn’t look hard at the reality of the Talons or the prisons of Griffonstone, and the King never encouraged them to.

Past the door Golivir guarded was a broad staircase of a dozen steps down to a second door and beyond that what had been a well-drained cellar. The drains remained, with additional plumbing and hoses but now it was a room fit for a prince. Or it would be, providing that prince only desired a single, if sumptuous bed, a small bathroom and shower, and a single armoire and chest.

The chest held waterproof sacks. Large ones. Goliver knew. He’d delivered them.

Sometimes he delivered other things.

The large room held almost no other furniture besides a box of coal and various blacksmithing tools, chains, tongs, a bellows, and a few chairs bolted into place. There was also an adjustable “workbench” with plenty of bolts for holding “workpieces”. He’d never seen the prince working. He never wanted to.

One would wonder where all the gold the prince kept spending was going. It certainly wasn’t going into his personal wardrobe or furnishings.

He knew that past the inner door there were pegs on the wall. A fine fur cloak hung from one, and a fine sword from another. The pony leather hood that hung from the third squicked Goliver fiercely. He refused to look at it. It was an executioner’s hood.

Gerald III had ordered his guard to keep an eye on the prince and to keep him busy. To comply with those orders Gerald IV had taken it upon himself to ally himself with the Talon security forces. The Talons had an obsessive focus on punishing the Maplegrovers for assisting the Prench in the second Prench war. The murder of the cervid agitator Loius in broad daylight in the middle of Cobbolenook in the heart of Sugar Maple Grove Forest last month being the latest example.

Shame they’d caught Gerry at the scene. Bigger shame the griffon had not taken his suicide pill. The prince and the Talons had provided the funds, personnel, and leverage for the hit. The Prench had remained silent, but the Maplegrovers were swift to react. The Foreign Minister Aubree summoned the Griffin ambassador in Cobbolenook and expelled two Griffin diplomats. The King of course denied being behind it. Of course, he would. They hadn’t told him about it. Sersjant Golivir had been a part of that. A large part he thought.

As a flysoldat, doing as he was ordered and not thinking about it was a big part of the job. He had arrived at dusk, relieving another Sersjant, and no one had come or been brought since. Sersjant Golivir didn’t think the prince had any griffon, cervid or pony with him tonight, so they were probably his own screams, but he tried not to judge his superiors. Occasionally he had been told to help bury a wrapped body, by his own superior or by the prince. Sometimes he could feel that the bodies were in pieces. Spies or ‘traitors’ or ‘dead of natural causes’, they were taken to the cemetery for the poor and interned. He treated the dead with respect. That’s all the law called for. He didn’t ask where the bodies came from, and he didn’t want to know. He had no desire to join them.

Occasionally he escorted a ‘guest’ – a bound and gagged hooded captive to or from the prince for questioning. Usually, they were escorted out again. Always by a different shift. The prince was meticulous. Only once or twice had the prince been joined by one of his ‘friends’ to speak with these ‘guests’. Hardened veterans of the Talon, they said nothing. But when they visited the prince was always in a good mood for weeks afterward.

Since Gerry had been caught no one had come to visit. There were no ‘guests’ down below. So why was the screaming of the golden prince so unnerving?

24. A Shot In The Dark

“Yes, but what about magic, where did it go and why?”

—Prince Habib, Commentary on Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

24. A Shot in the Dark

“Wakey, wakey eggs and… fish.” Rizi poked at Gwen. With her stick. A large catfish was impaled on the end of it.

“Oh hey, nice wakeup call. Are there really eggs?”

“Chicken.”

“Really?”

Rizi pointed at a bird hanging upside down.

“No kidding. What luck. Are you going to eat?”

“Already” Rizi smiled and rubbed her stomach. “Rooster”.

“You’re having fun with seven letter words, aren’t you?”

“Plainly. Rizi will nap now, okay?”

“Sure Rizi, wake you when we’re all packed and ready to go?” Rizi nodded. Gwen sat up and took the catfish. Her claws had it peeled and roasted over the fire swiftly.

She packed up the campsite and put out the fire.

It was quiet. A wildcat yowled in the distance. Insects buzzed. After filling the canteens at a spring, a quick bath, and some basic preening, she woke Rizi, and they began their journey anew.

Rizi’s pack had grown tight again, and she adjusted it. Perhaps her cloak had shrunk a bit? She loosened the clasp slightly. She had to loosen her peytral also, which lowered it a bit more than she liked. Had the straps shrunk?

Rizi walked and Gwen flew through a forest of 60 length deciduous trees full of broad leaves. Suddenly they came to a break. The hills continued much as before, but the trees and greenery had all been stripped. All the trees were bare of leaves and even small branches.

Some foul whitish substance covered the ground and it smelled of death and decay.

“Oh, my bird, that's foul. Pardon the pun.” Said Gwen, landing on a stump uncoated by the nasty discharge. “What happened here? Have you ever seen anything like it? Have you ever smelled anything like it?”

“Yes, yes, very long ago. Smells like bat guano or glowworm cave. Excrement everywhere, yes.”

“So, what happened to the land?”

“Something ate it, pooped it out.”

“But what could do that?” The devastation went for canters, all the way to the far northern horizon. That far horizon was the ocean. They had nearly reached the northern shore.

“Who knows, insect swarm, maybe?”

The nasty slop made for treacherous footing and Rizi was glad for her pointed stick. She soon added a second stick as she trudged through the mess. Gwen offered to carry her, but Rizi declined. Flying wasn’t an experience the underground loving kobold was ready for just yet.

They declined camping as the mess was everywhere and it had covered any signs of a trail. They were now just heading north vaguely following the last heading they had been sure of. That evening Rizi called a halt. The moon was down, and the slop and lack of vegetation made night travel impossible, even to the normally well sighted kobold. They scraped an area clear of the muck by using some bark and bedded down in a tiny square clear of the nasty filth. Gwen offered to take first watch and she flew concentric circles high above their pitiful campsite. Rizi had not fallen asleep yet when Gwen excitedly returned. “Rizi, Rizi, there’s a fire. It's just a few canters off! Grab your stuff, and let's go!”

Rizi repacked her bedroll and stood up. Where had Gwen flown off to?

There was an impact from behind, and suddenly Rizi was flying, clutched in her companion’s talons, her legs and tail held gently by her rear paws.

Rizi screamed for nearly a canter as they rose into the sky. Only the darkness and inability to clearly see the ground let her heart calm enough to begin to talk again.

“Put Rizi down now catbird! Rizi is not a field mouse!”

“Yea no kidding, you're a lot heavier than you look… and bigger than I thought, did you grow some?” The griffon flapped hard and rocked from side to side as their ascent switched to a descent. “We’re almost there, look!”

Rizi had clutched her eyes closed, and now she reopened them. She wailed and peed for nearly a canter as they swooped down a steep glide slope to the fire far below.

Flapping furiously, Gwen gently slowed their descent and softly placed Rizi once more upon the sandy earth. She lay there in a tiny ball shivering.

“Oh, don’t be a baby. Ferocious fire breathing dragons and giant pony griffons you are ok with, but a little night flight through calm air and you go to pieces?”

“Rizi is not a field mouse!” She shook and shivered. “Horsemarket never drag Rizi flying through air! No, no, neither did dragons!”

The fire was burning, but there was no sign of a griffon. They were past the awful goop, and between two sand dunes.

“Rizi, stay here, I’ll fly and look for the others. They must be close.

“Rizi doesn’t think Rizi can move, no.”

“Oh hush, I’ll be right back.”

The moon had come up, but it was reddish orange. A full lunar eclipse apparently. She stared at it feeling uneasy wondering what the seers would make of it. After a few minutes Rizi walked over to the fire. It ruined her night vision, but it warmed her after her harrowing flight.

There was a thunk noise from farther up the sand dune ahead of her. Rizi looked up. There was something small in the sand, but she couldn’t make it out. She stood up and took a step. There was another thunk noise, this one off to the side. Rizi turned her head. A stick with feathers on the end had appeared in the sand up the cliff.

Rizi turned around. There was an orange blob halfway up the sand dune behind her, it was almost the temperature of the surrounding sand dune. It was not shaped like a griffon, not at all.

“Rizi asks what you are, or who?”

The blob tried to stand up. Now it looked more like a griffon. It held a bow and arrow. A shout and a cry came from it. The arrow moved from the bow to foot, where bright hot red ran down into the sand.

“You shot yourself with an arrow?” Rizi asked in disbelief.

The blob drew another arrow. It notched it and in what suddenly became slow motion aimed it right at Rizi and let fly.

The blob griffon went crashing to the ground as another griffon tackled the one in front of her from behind. But Rizi barely noticed. A black feathered shaft was sticking out from just above her peytral, it had two warm spots on the end where claws had touched it moments ago. There was pain. Just pain. It felt like it came from everywhere at once. The worst pain Rizi had ever felt. After a moment she realized it was coming not from the tiny hole where the feather had struck, but from behind her, in her back. Suddenly unable to stand she toppled forward onto the sand.

Face to the sand, brilliant red blood ran down her claws. Super bright, hotter than any mammals, heated by the campfire, the darkness let her see her hot blood run into the sand from the hole in her chest and behind her, down her arms and sides, wetness even ran down her tail into the sand where it cooled in dimmer orange pools and tiny rivulets all around her.

There was fighting and yelling behind her, and then silence.

Claws shifted her gently, there was cursing and shouting. The feathers in her chest were snapped off. Suddenly Gwen was there, her hot bird breath on Rizi’s face smelling of catfish and she was saying something.

“Stay awake.”

Silly Gwen. That isn’t seven letters.

25. Three Points and No Summary

“I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be.”

-Princess Zephyrina ‘Zipp’ Storm

25. Three Points and no Summary

Once upon a time there was a pegasus pony. Sugar Paradise was a confectioner, and she had a cookie for a cutie mark. She made the best cookies in the city where she lived. When the magic came back, she was moved to travel the land in search of others like herself, cooks with the most amazing talents for making the most delectable treats. Soon she had found one – in Maretime Bay – Apple Glory, an earth pony with an apple cutie mark. Together they had set out to the far-off land of Bridlewood to meet another of their kind, a unicorn if they could find one. It was known that the roads were not safe. Manticores, chimeras, giant birds and walking trees had all been seen in the wild lands between their distant homes. And so, two earth pony brothers from Maretime Bay, Swift and Sturdy Spear had been hired as guards to protect their little wagon caravan as it journeyed to the legendary unicorn forest of Bridlewood.

The two cooks had regretted every mile of it.

Swift Spear was green, yellow, and thin. Sturdy Spear was yellow, green, and fat. One had a green stripe, the other a yellow stripe. They had one brain between them.

“Well, all I’m saying is you ruined mom’s birthday by announcing you were leaving home.”

“Well, you were leaving home too.”

“Yea, but I didn’t have sheriff Hitch after me for trying to play grab-plot with Moon Pie’s Filly.”

“She’s not that much older than me.”

“You are three times her age Swift. THREE TIMES.”

“She looked mature for her age.”

“SHE DIDN’T HAVE HER CUTIE MARK!”

“Some fillies get them late. Mom was over twenty.”

“Spear Point is her age.”

“Your filly doesn’t hang out in bars.”

“That’s not the point Swift. What is wrong with you?”

“My sex life is none of your business anyway.”

“Well Critter Comforter knows. I had her talk to her dad to get that hot shot lawyer to convince Hitch to drop the charges.”

“Nothing happened.”

“You were going to pay her to pose for pictures Swift.”

“Just on one of those phone contraptions. It was her idea. Making foal pornography he called it, and solicitation. It’s ridiculous.”

“You went to jail Swift. 3 days.”

“I did not do nothing. All Hitch had to say is she lied about her age, and I would have backed right off.”

“Well Spear Point heard us arguing. Critter Comforter told Spear Point. Now Hearths Warming is going to be a nightmare.”

“Mom wants to have it at your place.”

“I know. She told Critter that’s where it was happening. Critter was choking on some of that Pine Cleaner mom uses at the time and could not get a word in edgewise.”

“Well good for mom. Well-played.”

“Swift, what am I going to tell Spear Point about her creepy old uncle?”

“Sturdy, how is it any of her business?”

“Oh my gosh Swift, it’s out there. Its family business. I read them that letter you sent me explaining what happened.”

“Yea, and so?”

“So, you weren’t even slightly contrite, didn’t accept any responsibility. It was all woe is me.”

“So, I don’t want to have a big discussion about my sex life”

“It’s not about your sex life, it’s about your arrest.”

There was a pause. Sugar Paradise and Apple Glory briefly hoped that would be the end of it. But after a moment Sturdy continued.

“They agreed you shouldn’t have been arrested or charged with that baloney. Especially since that’s not the first time that Cherry Pie has done this sort of thing.”

“Okay, great”

“Anyway, on the other hoof they are disturbed by the ‘unhealthy power dynamic that you were creating with’ the age gap in your relationship and the financial gap of it.’ Critter and I would steer Spear Point away from any relationship like that. Even if it wasn’t sexual.”

“I hear you.”

There was blessed silence for a time.

“Critter Comforter’s cousin Third Wheel is still living with me. He’s allergic to trees.”

“He’s allergic to… trees?”

“Trees”

“We’re getting an artificial tree for Hearth’s Warming.”

“It’s rainbow colored.”

Sugar Paradise and Apple Glory held their breath.

“Is that because Spear Point is gay, or bisexual?”

“Non-Binary. Fully harmonious. Trans-tribal as well probably. If that’s a thing.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I thought dad told you.”

“No.”

“Oh, well I probably shouldn’t have said anything then.”

“Oh great. Does mom know?”

“No”

“That’s probably good. You know how she is. Infected immigrants from Bridlewood and Zephyr Hills. She’s a piece of work.”

Sugar Paradise and Apple Glory breathed in relief. Surely the discussion had reached its end.

“She’s coming out on Hearths Warming.”

The two cooks facehooved.

Author's Note

So they said to write what you know…

26. All Watcher

Once the threat became clear, the alicorns evacuated whom they could and slammed shut all the side gates only leaving a path straight to the far end of the chain of creation. Not everyone could or would run. At Holstein and Minos, the inhabitants elected to stay and fight to buy time for the evacuation.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

26. All Watcher

Scorcher sat in his old council chair in the High Hall of the councilors. He was not feeling particularly Dragon Lordly this morning. There had been no sign of Rizi or any news from outside the valley, but six new dragons had awoken. None were as large as himself, but they were nearly so. There had been a lot of joy and yelling and shouting each time about his legitimacy as Dragon Lord. Only one had been asleep longer than he had. That one had been the least pleasant of these awakenings, the other red known as Garble.

Grable had a yellow underbelly, an orange crest, and a chip on his shoulder. He insisted that not only was Scorch not the Dragon Lord, but neither was his yellow sister Smolder.

“What have you done to my sister? Why is she so big? What have you done? Where is everyone? Why won’t she wake up? Where is Ember? Where is her body? What have you done to my sister?” he kept saying. Garble insisted that all while he had slept the little blue dragon lord had spoken to him. Garble said Ember had taken over for the dark blue alicorn Luna as guardian of the dream realms. Garble also said she had been yelling at him to wake up.

Scorcher's admission that he had a dream of Ember just before waking did little to improve matters.

There had been words and shouting. Scorcher felt bad about that. A leader should keep his temper.
Apparently, Garble had slept immediately upon returning from the heroic expedition to lock the door to the Nexus of Sominus. Garble said he had been exhausted from the triumphant battle over the door only to awaken now and find his sister grown to enormous size, promoted to dragon lord and asleep.

Smolder had even said good night and sweet dreams to him before heading to the tower to strengthen the defenses of Equis. A counterstrike by the nightmare king had been expected. Ember was already there.

It was touching, tragic, sad, and when they had both finally calmed down and compared notes all they could agree on was that Ember was missing. She had vanished in the moment of victory, along with almost every other powerful creature of that era. She had never returned from the Tower of Unity. Scorcher could only offer his recollections of Shining Armor’s tale. The unicorn prince had witnessed the last moments of the battle.

There had been alarm from the crystal empire when a crazed Flurry Heart went insane from grief at the loss of her friends, mother, soul sister, sister’s sons, and husband. She had been Shining Armor's daughter. She had tried to stop the extirpation for some reason and had banished the crystal empire, like Sombra had so long ago.

There had been another concern regarding an old nightmare outside the shields beyond their control, but nothing had come of it. Evidently Shining Armor and some other unicorns had heroically maintained two shields at once, keeping the nightmares confined to the tower and keeping them from invading its upper reaches.

Scorcher told Garble of Shining Armor’s encouraging words to the desperate and magically impaired Twilight Sparkle, telling her she wasn’t alone. He spoke of how Shining Armor had directed her to focus on saving lives. How they had patiently waited for the last nightmares to arrive before abandoning the shield.

Scorcher told Garble how once the extirpation of the Equis’s magical creatures was complete the alicorns had sprung their trap. Scorcher spoke of the defeat of the nightmare king and the growing transparent fading of the heroes as they vanished into the aethereal realm.

Garble had cried tears of grief and fled the hall.

So it was that Scorcher sat in a grim mood atop his old council chair, beside the throne of the Dragon Lord feeling for a time both unworthy and alone gnawing idly on a few gems in a goblet… and then the goblet.

—

There had been no dragon fire messages from Rizi so far, but it was soon still. She had probably not yet reached the far shore. Scorcher worried about the little kobold.

Tarnish, the All-Watcher of the kobolds had come to speak to the Dragon Lord. His once brilliant yellow scales had faded to a pale off white. The only seven letter kobold, he was led into the room carefully by a large green priestess, who intensely reminded Scorcher of Rizi. She even smelled like her.

Tarnish hobbled forward and slowly looked up at him. The ancient reptile's hazy cataract eyes rose to peer into Scorcher’s slate ones. Scorcher had never met such an elderly kobold before, or this kobold, but knew of him from the others.

This would no doubt be interesting. He could use a good diversion.

“Great Dragon Lord, I Tarnish bear tidings.”

“Speak and be welcome Tarnish All-Watcher.”

Tarnish made a short nod and then gestured with his walking stick at his green priestess assistant. “Doriz, is Prioress, chief seer and prophetess.” Doriz curtsied but did not meet his eye. “She spoke to her inner dragon today.”

“Oh?” Scorcher was amused. The little kobolds were very spiritual. They believed in reincarnation, signs, and visions. The alicorn of friendship Twilight Sparkle had also been a believer in such silly things. It had always amused him. Scorcher preferred to believe in things you could see, touch, and explain. He left philosophy to others.

The green kobold looked up at him. Her eyes were orange, just like Rizi’s. Her head horns were the same shade of ivory. She opened her mouth, licked her lips with her orange tongue, paused and then spoke slowly and clearly. “Inner dragon sent Dragon Lord message, yes?”

Scorcher smiled. “Oh? What message?” This was an amusing change from the grim drama of the early morning

The ancient Tarnish waved at Doriz to continue. Doriz swallowed audibly. “Dragon Lord words… insulting, must I say?” she asked Tarnish.

Still amused, Scorcher looked at Tarnish. “You must.” he said.

Scorcher, blinked at that. The he blinked two more times.

Doriz began to speak. “We need to help Rizi! She’s hurt. I can’t do anything! A stupid griffon shot her with an arrow! She’s dying. She can’t die. If she dies, I’ll lose my anchor to Equis and then that nightmare can go wherever it likes and we’ll never catch it. Stupid spell. Is this thing working? Kobold, kobold, can you hear me? Hey kobold, Doriz, Fragrant Flowers Odorize the Alcoves Pleasantly or whatever your name is, tell that jerk face Scorcher to go help Rizi and to get moving! Get going now! Now! Go!”

Doriz, mortified, covered her head in her clawed hands, and her tears began to fall.

The ancient all-watcher Tarnish smiled, turned, and began to slowly hobble away. He might have chuckled quietly once.

Scorcher was not amused. The message had been in Ember’s voice.

27. Bon Voyage

“The more different the friends, the stronger the friendship and the more powerful magic is. The larger the group of friends the more powerful as well. Understanding this led to the deliberate creation of powerful coalitions of friends. The Mane Six, friends of Twilight Sparkle that included the Elements of Harmony were one such group. Smolder the Dragon had her Young Six, were an even more powerful group. Then there were Discord’s friends, and himself. These groups overlapped and shared members.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

27. Bon Voyage

The docks were full of ships. The ships were full of fruit. The fruit was full of flies. The water was also full of flies. So was the air.

It was a carnival atmosphere despite the annoying insects. Minotaurs lined the docks, and an occasional zebra, kirin and arabian looked on.

A band played the old Equestrian song ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ and other more traditional patriotic tunes as the final passengers ascended the gangplank. A kirin, zebra and tall arabian with fresh letters of patent marking them as military observers and brevet officers of Istanbull marched up and shook hooves with Admiral Perfect Storm and his young nephew Lieutenant Close Shave. The young Lieutenant was swaying on his hooves and appeared very hung over. A pair of equally hungover ground pounder lieutenants, friends of his were cheering him loudly. It made king Iron Hoof happy to see members of rival services getting along like that.

General Clip Clop was there with a detachment of ground pounders. He joined his two young lieutenants in belting out the march of the Iron Throne. His stentorian voice was quite distinctive.

At last, the gangplank was drawn up and the rowboats began to drag the Sea Cow née Manatee into deeper waters.

King Iron Hoof clapped and cheered along with his chief ministers. Even the aristocrats had turned out, probably more from a desire to curry favor with whomever would eventually be named successor than from any true patriotic feeling.

Wind Bag was there. The old minotaur seemed to be in a good mood for once. Iron Hoof briefly exchanged courteous pleasantries with him.

“Well, I think this is for the best. The needs of the realm will be taken care of after all, and you can be sure the nobility will support whoever remains once this race is over.”

“Well, that is very encouraging Wind, I take it you have a favorite?” The ships began to be drawn out into the channel by three naval galleys, their oars rising and dipping as they fought into the wind. Eventually the black smoke belching contraption began to chug away, and water was thrown into the air behind the Manatee. The crowd cheered.

“Oh, I think they are all equally qualified. I’m sure it will work itself out eventually, your majesty. These things always do. Good day.” The old bull smiled and took his leave of the king.

The palanquin ride back to the Taurkapi palace was smooth. The steers made good time. He bade the eunuchs to tell his harem to prepare and after he washed and brushed himself, he walked boldly through the doors to his private pleasure sanctuary.

Squaring his powerful shoulders, he posed dramatically. “Ok, where were we and who wants to go first?” He tossed his fez crown onto the side table amidst the delectable food and snacks.

The seven minotaur cows giggled. The youngest and current favorite heifer Penelope smiled and handed him a cup.

She led him to a seat, kissed him on the cheek and said, “Actually I believe it was your turn, your majesty.”

“Well let's get this show on the road then.” Smiling, he surveyed his domain. King Iron Hoof relaxed into his chair and sipped a fruit beverage. The minotaur ladies on the pony team had been putting up an excellent defense, but he saw a weakness in their unicorn troop deployments. He drew back, rattled his cup and he threw the dice into the dice tray. He pushed his griffon miniatures forward from his dragons. They unicorns were too far forward from the pegasus air cover. He would take advantage of it. Surrounded by his friends and fellow gamers he quoted a play line “It’s good to be king.” The ladies all laughed.

The game lasted until night fell and a bit beyond.

29. Nightmare Pleasure Cruise

“Well, harmony magic of course comes from friendship. Friendship directs, creates, and sustains it. That is the basis for most magic in Equis. But there is chaos magic and order magic; life and death magic; dream magic, mind magic, love magic and more. Friendship magic can empower, frame, direct, sustain, affect, and grow all those types of magic.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

29. Nightmare Pleasure Cruise

His astral opponent, the little blue monster that kept countering his moves, seemed to be quite occupied with events concerning the little green lizard. Sadly, the nightmare was forced to resist its urge to watch this fun drama and slipped away riding a red moonbeam through the sky, up to the abandoned satellite of Equis and back on down before sunlight could unmake it. The pain would be worth it if it could have a free claw for a while. It went right to work, nearly half a world away. It would take the blue annoyance time to find it again and more time yet to try and stop the nightmare from making changes. Hopefully too much time. It had been so long since it had a free hand. The last time it had knocked down the tower. There weren’t any targets quite as attractive this time, but there was one thing…

The nightmare was having a blast.

Well, it was about to.

A little suggestion to an over-educated and nosy zebra to take a couple of unlocked padlocks from a hatch for a better look later was readily accepted. As was the suggestion to set them behind a cabinet.

A suggestion that a certain minotaur sailor was tired and to just not worry about the unlocked hatch and let the next watch deal with it was equally successful. Sloth could accomplish a lot.

A quick bit of improvisation had a sailor notice one of the purloined padlocks behind the cabinet and naturally assume the lock went somewhere… perhaps to this accessway. Let's lock that, just in case. There that’s better, won’t the captain be pleased at our initiative?

Back to the little alchemist zebra. Vague hints of secrets that might endanger Zebrenica, and whispers of a need to check had the striped quadruped taking a hooded lantern to inspect the unlocked hatch in the dead of night.

The balky steam machine was shut down for the night and only the engineers below were awake. A few lullabies to sleep and the decks were now quiet, not his usual way, but the blue moon pony had known her stuff, so why not use it?

Open the latch. Better latch that door open. Don’t want it to close on our head by accident. Ahh here's the padlock. What happened to the other one? Never mind. I said NEVERMIND. There we go, let's just latch that hatch open. Now lock it. Lock it. LOCK IT. Good.

Now let’s look. Huh, just coal after all. High quality Anthracite hard, brittle, and black. Lustrous, good for carbon chemistry, HEY. Back on task you! This one’s a fighter.

Hmmm.

Now comes the hard part. Put the lantern down. PUT IT DOWN. Just set it there, right on the edge, a little closer to the edge. Just a little closer. We need to get a better look. Let’s move the lantern closer to the edge. STOP looking at the coal. Just a bit closer. Stop looking at the coal.

Wait. We need a better look at that coal. Little too much resistance here. Need some reinforcements here, some brain chemistry adjustments should do the trick, the irony is delicious.

Let’s move the lantern closer. Have a rush. Closer. What a thrill. Tap. TAP. Have some pain. Tap. Oh yea. CLOSER I SAID. Have a headache. Give it a tap. Oh, that feels nice. Another Tap. Woo-hoo more endorphins. NOW GIVE IT A TAP. Have a headache. TAP. Woo-hoo, here you go. TAP.

Whoops. Smash. Whomp. Well, there we go. A little fire at sea. Now my nightmare can really get started.

Now our little zebra has yelled fire and is trying to break the padlock with the missing key. Smashing at it with a fire axe. Can’t have that.

“Hey what's that zebra doing there? Grab him!” Get rid of that axe. Take it, might need it as evidence. Maybe give him a little love tap for being so difficult. There we go. Ha!

Fire trimmer’s locked behind that accessway. Oops. “Fire in the coal bin!” Fire teams can’t get there directly. The hatchway is still latched open despite the zebra. Hoses won’t reach. Every creature for himself.

Not enough rafts to begin with, better get while the getting is good right? Let's take the zebra and the axe. Sometimes the fun just writes itself.

Half the boats are in the water now.

Was there a call to abandon ship, I think I heard ‘abandon ship’?

Bucket brigade. Might as well pee on a bonfire for all the good that will do now…… wait for it, wait for it. There we go.

“It’s fully involved now, let’s try and smother it!” Hmm, can’t have that.

“Maybe if we throw canvas over it that will starve it of oxygen.” I mean that might have worked, but I think he’s crazy for even trying it. Let’s not help. Ahh there we go, onto the canvas and up, up, up and into the rigging. Star light, star light, tiger, tiger burning bright. Wish I may, wish I might, burn and drown them all tonight!

Oh sharks! Let’s see what I can do with these.

Now that is how you give a nightmare a pleasure cruise.

31. Headlines

The Minoan

Sunday 4/15 1000 ATS

DISASTER AT SEA

In what the Minoan Royal navy is calling its worst peacetime disaster the test vessel Manatee burned to the water line after a coal bunker caught fire and flames spread to the rest of the vessel. Originally named the Sea Cow, she had been rushed into service and refitted with a steam powered paddle wheel as part of The Great Race. Manatee sank a little before dawn on the 13th. Over three hundred are missing. Admiral Perfect Storm, the commander of the vessel and Lt. Close Shave (candidate heir to the royal line) were both reported lost at sea. An observer from Zebrabwe, Dr. Sakai Nyarai was arrested after alerting the crew to the fire. In possession of an axe, he admitted to starting the fire with a lantern “on accident”. The coal bunker was locked in an open position. A padlocked accessway to firefighting equipment and panic prevented a more effective response. Details p.12. In related news the Kirin observer Red Leaf, a military attaché stationed in Istanbull was rescued after she spent over 14 hours in the water. The handsome well-known Saddle Arabian diplomat Prince Haakem is still missing and presumed lost. The Minoan Royal Navy observed not all plucked from the water were returned to Istanbull so there is a slim chance of additional survivors. The Zebrican vessels Zarnata and ZCS-Minjin were close to the scene and began to render aid immediately. Sharks and other dangers of the deep preyed upon survivors as they awaited rescue. Several known to have survived the fire are missing. Gen. Kazier of Saddle Arabia has threatened retribution to any instigator of the disaster.

—

“As you know, our own response to the fire is what led to the loss of the ship. Panic, and confusion. The situation was salvageable till the fire spread to the rig. Perhaps even then. Certainly, the locked open bunker and jammed accessway contributed to the disaster. As for the latter, we know now that was NOT the doing of the Doctor, but another sailor who admitted locking the accessway thinking it was proper to keep that hatch shut.

“Is this what you were expecting, your majesty?”

“Well, no Mish Mash, at least not like this and not so quickly. And certainly not from the Zebras. Did you manage to get this chemist Dr. Nyarai into our custody and away from the vengeful marines?”

“Yes, but they already worked him over quite thoroughly. It was apparently an individual act. He had no orders and was acting on what he himself called a delusional suspicion that we had some ill intent towards the Zebricans. He admitted to taking the lock from the coal bunker and locking it open. He claimed he was trying to look inside and the lantern he was using slipped and fell inside. He called for help immediately and was prevented from knocking the lock loose with an axe. There were some elements to his story that sounded… supernatural. As in he claimed he was being controlled. Despite its fantastic nature he essentially maintained this story despite various forms of torture - flogging, sleep deprivation, dragging him along the ground up a staircase, beatings, a broken nose, and a mock hanging. Eventually he began to make up fantastic stories to get the torture to stop, but that is to be expected.”

“Holy cow. Who authorized any of that?” The king shuddered, sipped his dark coffee, and grimaced at its bitterness. An appropriate drink to have on such a grim morning.

“Well, no one sir. The appropriate corrections are being made, but apparently our security forces took it upon themselves to get to the bottom of things. Diplomatic immunity be damned. We’ve been stalling the zebras, but by now I’m pretty sure they know exactly what transpired. I’ve been denying them access to the prisoner till he doesn’t look as bad. I wasn’t sure what action you wanted to take? Prior monarchs might have made the problem vanish…” There was an unasked question there. Mish Mash was a good majordomo, but his own sense of ethics didn’t extend to placing constraints on his king. Iron Hoof rather wished it was the opposite.

“Oh, no that won’t do. Call the zebra ambassador. I want to speak to him at once.”

“Are you sure that’s wise sir? Tensions are running quite high.”

The king considered. “No, no, it’s best to get this over with.”

“He’s actually been waiting all morning. I don’t think he left the palace last night.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“You needed to sleep, sir, and making decisions on short sleep has led to bad outcomes in the past for many monarchs.”

Upon reflection, maybe the ethics issues the majordomo and the king perceived were just not the same issues.

32. Opening Moves

“Friendship isn’t always easy but there’s no doubt it’s worth fighting for.”

—C. Star, S. Lunamoon “Commentaries on the Friendship Reports of T. Sparkle Vol. 4”

32. Opening Moves

“King Iron Hoof” The zebra ambassador had deep circles under his eyes.

“Ambassador Tendai.”

“Your majesty, I want to assure you that the Zebrican nation and Zebrabwe were in no way involved in the sabotage of your vessel. Zebrenica wishes to assist you in your investigation and apologizes for any zebra citizens' involvement and assures you it was not done at our direction.”

“Mr. Ambassador…” the king tried to interrupt, but the diplomat continued as if he’d said nothing.

“We understand Dr. Sakai Nyarai succumbed to injuries he received at sea. We request his body be cremated and sent back to his family immediately.” The zebra ended his speech in a rush, and only then looked at the King.

“Mr. Ambassador, I assure you that’s not necessary. Dr. Nyarai is no longer in the hands of our military. If we were to return him to you would that be to your satisfaction?”

“Your majesty is very kind. Far kinder than my own government. I assure you his family would receive his remains regardless of if he died here from his injuries or after his return to Zebrabwe for medical treatment at a… military hospital.” The ambassador swallowed.

“I… see. Well, I regret to inform you that while there was indeed an accident… and it did appear your citizen may have in some way contributed to the disaster. His involvement was but one of several unfortunate elements to this tragedy. Did the Doctor have a wife or children?” he inquired.

The ambassador sighed. “He was unmarried and devoted to his work as an alchemist. He does have an elderly mother and father in the capital.”

“Well, sadly he has succumbed to his injuries. Please allow me to express my nation's condolences for the tragic loss of their son. We have many such letters to write. I will have the remains shipped to their home at once. Please give Mish Mash the address. If there is nothing else?”

“There is one other item. We regret to inform you that our borders will be closed to all non-commercial travel until further notice. In the interest of reducing tensions.”

“I… see. I will inform the relevant parties.”

Mish Mash saw the ambassador out. The king sat down with a wooden expression.

“Shall I have him cremated?” asked Mish Mash.

“Certainly not. Tell the navy he died from his injuries he sustained… onboard the vessel. Tell the Zebras the same. Ship his parents some ashes in an urn with white roses and blue flowers, I think. That’s for wonderful wishes I believe... Is he healthy enough to move?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, I want to speak to him. Is he receiving medical care? Good. Transfer him to the palace dungeon. Somewhere nice. 39A I think. I believe that one has a door that opens onto an alleyway if he feels the need to escape our custody. Tell him the truth, that his own government wants him dead because he is inconvenient, and we are willing to give him sanctuary and something useful to do so he can pay us back for the bother of keeping him alive. Oh, and tell him he can write to his parents too if they can keep a secret. No need to compound these tragedies. See they get his letter before the urn, flowers or his own government, and ideally before the news.” The king found his appetite had now returned.

“Will you play games again tonight your majesty?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is already playing. I just want to know why, who and how to stop them or at least counter their moves. I have some additional inquiries to make.” The coffee had grown even more cold and bitter. He drank it anyway.

33. Castling

Somehow millions of these evil spirits had been let loose. They were stronger than formerly and had fewer limitations. They began by forcing the creatures of the far worlds to worship and sacrifice to them, sucking them dry of magic and life faster and faster. Wreaking havoc and terror and in no seeming hurry they consumed all life and magic as they destroyed one world at a time and moved on. That time, bought by tens of billions was well spent.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

33. Castling

“I refuse to work against my government.” A small well-groomed zebra sat at a table in what might have been called apartment 39A instead of cell 39A, a pleasant small room in the southwest corner of Taurkapi palace. It was a quiet part of the building facing away from the harbor and had a nice view out over the city. The alleyway was used to bring supplies to the castle. People came and went at all times of the day. There was a bed, a bookshelf, some chairs, a little reading nook and a window. It was not very dungeon-like at all.

“Okay.” A somewhat older yet healthy minotaur sat across from him. He wore a red military fez but with a green tassel and the gold pin of an angry bull. He had come alone and knocked politely. He wore dark breaches and nothing else. A pair of guards also in red fezzes had accompanied him, but they remained in the alley.

“Why have you moved me here? Why is there a door to stair to an alley where I can just walk away? Will I be killed if I try to leave?” The zebra asked.

“Not by us. You are free to go Dr. Nyarai. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why did you torture me if you intended to let me go?” The doctor sounded wounded, tired, and angry.

“That was beyond my control, and not my idea.” The minotaur rubbed his head. “It is hard to control actions when passions run high and one is not there, but others are.”

“I see. Your doctors are very good. If it wasn’t for the nightmares, I’d believe the last two days had all been a bad dream.” He showed his front legs, hooves, and neck. The bruising was almost gone.

“I apologize for your mistreatment.” the bull said.

“I’d have mistreated me. I killed all those creatures, or I helped. Something made me do it. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” The zebra said, tears coming unbidden to his eyes.

“Let's discuss that for a moment if you don’t mind… You said you were delusional; can you explain that?” The minotaur in the red fez leaned back and encouragingly smiled slightly.

“I don't want you to think I’m crazy.” The doctor said cautiously.

“You seem quite sane to me, Doctor.”

“Fine.” The little zebra held his head in his hooves and looked at the table. “Well, it was like there was a voice. Not a voice really, but like the thoughts you get when you are thinking about your own thoughts? It was whispering over my shoulder that there was something being hidden, something being concealed, and I had to get to the bottom of it. It told me to look, that there wasn’t any harm in looking. I was there to look; it was why I had been sent. It was like I was made to notice the padlocks, to set them aside when no one was watching so I could come back later and take a better look. It seemed like a good idea. So, I did it. I’m sorry, so sorry.

“Later that night I or, rather it and I thought it was time to look. To see what was hidden. Of course, we’d need a light. The… whisperer told me to take a lantern. I know how dangerous fire is on a ship. I made sure to keep the lantern well away from the coal.

“The whisperer warned me the hatch might fall on my head. That I needed to latch the door open with the padlock. So, I went to get it. And that's the strange part. I put both locks down behind a cabinet earlier. I remember doing it. But there was only one. It really bothered me at the time. But I felt… directed you might say, to ignore it. I kept trying to think about it and it was like something was making me stop every time I tried. I probably fought with myself for a good five minutes before I finally gave in and took the padlock. I had intended just to latch it, not to lock it, but suddenly I got this impulse to lock it. So, I did.

“It was like the more I did what the whispers said, the less I could fight. Fighting was exhausting. It was like I was starting to want to do what it wanted. It was just easier. I remember locking the hatch and feeling this rush, like a pat on the head?

“Anyway, I investigated the bin then. It was just coal. Nothing special, well that is not true, it was nice coal. High quality anthracite. Chemistry grade coal. Better than what we have in Zebrenica. We must import coal like that. I remember the whisperer was getting annoyed at me staring at the coal. It was getting angry. I wanted to look at it and the… whatever didn’t. It felt like it was a contest of wills. Eventually after staring at the coal for a while, well I think it changed tactics.

“The whisperer told me I needed a better look. It had me move the lantern closer. I moved it an inch. It really did help with the light. But the whisperer wasn't satisfied. It had me move it again. It was like there was this idea that I had to move the lantern closer to the edge of the hatch. Every time I tried to think of something different my head began to pound and ache. I nudged the lantern and felt this intense euphoria.

Sakai considered for a moment, then looked the bull in the eye. “When I was younger, I tried goose juice. It's a narcotic we have in Zebrenica. Everyone tries it at least once. It gives an intense momentary rush, followed a bit later by a pounding headache. This was like that but faster and over and over.

“I kept moving the lantern a tiny nudge. Every time I got this intense rush, and when I tried to stop, this pounding pain. It took whatever it was a good 10 minutes or so to get me to nudge the lantern to the edge. I tried to walk away. I tried to turn. I tried to pull the lantern back. I tried and every time I found myself directed to move it closer. I tried calling out. I remember hoping someone would come. Someone would see what I was doing. I have made many voyages. On a ship, especially one so crowded, there are usually crew members and passengers like those marines of yours. But I was alone in that middeck for what seemed like an hour fighting this urge to touch the lantern one more time.

“Then the ship rocked slightly, I think it was just a normal wave or the wind and the lantern fell in. I was horrified. The lamp smashed and a fire started at once. I’ve never been a pyromaniac. I have a healthy respect for fire. But something in my head purred in delight at those flames. It was ecstatic. Then it was gone, I could move, I could think. I shouted “Fire!” At the top of my lungs.

“I grabbed a fire axe to smash the padlock so I could close the hatch to starve the fire of oxygen. I was clumsy for some reason, it was like I was waking up from a nightmare or dream, or like I’d been drunk. I hit the padlock several times, but then I was tackled from behind. They took the axe. I told them I dropped a lantern into the coal bunker. The one who had taken the axe, he got this funny look on his face, like he was listening to someone or something, and then he smashed me over the head with it. I woke up on a boat.”

The bull in the fez had said nothing.

“I know it sounds crazy, like I'm making excuses.” The doctor began to weep again. I shouldn’t have listened, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

The bull in the fez stood up, he turned to leave. He put hand on the door and as he made to leave, he spoke.

“Doctor, you should know that I spoke to the sailor who locked the accessway to the fire door. He said the idea just popped into his head to look behind a cabinet. He saw padlocks there. He said the idea just popped into his head to ignore one of them and to take the other. He said he felt like a voice whispered at him to walk down the hall to the accessway. He said it told him to notice the latch, and that the padlock would fit it. He said the whispers told him the captain would be pleased if he latched and locked the door. That the door shouldn’t have been left open. And he described feeling great when he latched the lock. Unbelievably proud and happy he said.”

“And the one who hit you with the axe and took you into custody? He said the idea to hit you just popped into his head. And the idea that he might need the axe as evidence. So, he took it with him when he dragged you away. It was him who put you in the boat. The fire axe was still aboard when the zebras towed you to shore.”

“I think you were played Dr. Nyarai. Played like a fiddle. So were those sailors. Maybe others. Magic has returned, Doctor. I am not a fool. I saw a Kirin turn into a Nirik right before my eyes. Others have reported stranger things.

“That ship was sent to find out why the Equestrians have allowed magic to return. Someone destroyed that ship and killed those sailors and marines.

“Zebrenica has closed its borders. It will take time to ready another passenger steamship, and I have no confidence the Skyforce, or Ground Pounders will get the answers everyone needs soon enough. But I don't think you are crazy. At this point I don’t even think you are responsible. But you should stay here, if not in this room, in this city. For your own safety.

“I would like your cooperation and help if you are willing to give it. We are not as scientifically advanced as Zebreniza, or even Saddle Arabia. You are a chemist. We could use help, Doctor. The scientist Ferdinand is working with the Skyforce on a flying machine. The engineer Bullpen is working on a new steam engine. Perhaps you could help them. Maybe in some other way. I’m sorry you can’t go home, but please don’t throw your life away trying to return home or in despair because you were used as a tool in some… whisperer’s scheme.”

“Sir,” the doctor said, “just who are you? You never said.”

“No, I didn’t. Good day doctor.” The bull let himself out, closing the door softly.

34. Promotion

A dozen worlds led straight to Equis. Dar-al-Hisan, Ferris, Mallard, Holstein, Minous, Ossury, Fenris, Openwater Bay, Crossroads, Tambelon, Nocturnis and Equis. Nocturnis was empty, and most of the others were quickly depopulated by force. Alicorns in a hurry are scary. They left a trail of magic breadcrumbs straight to here and left few behind. The Overlords came slowly through the worlds, then faster and faster, meeting no opposition and destroying all in their wake, but finding few victims beyond Holstein and Minous and growing ravenous.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

34. Promotion

Rizi felt light as a feather. Like she was made of glass. And warm, so warm, warmed from within.

It was starry and magical and wonderful at once. Where was she? Ember had been there, some others. Now she was alone. She felt at peace. She felt like her entire life was on display and she smiled. She was proud of her life. It had been a good one.

A horse looked down at her upside down from above. It was a very purple horse with purple wings and a purple horn. It had a striped mane that waved in an unseen wind.

“Hello,” said the horse. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

35. Pawns

Finally, they came here. Once they were all through the gate, the alicorns sprang their trap. The alicorns drained Equis of its magic, relinquishing all power and departing to the astral plane. All the creatures of Equis gave up their magic as well. With no magic to feast upon, the overlords turned on each other and in a hideous fight slew one another till only few remained. As the last powerful magical beings, they too were sucked into the powerful thaumic drain.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

35. Pawns

Scorcher was unhappy. Doriz had accompanied him to try and wake Smolder again, but nothing the kobold or dragon had done had worked.

She was still not waking up. Barrels of rainwater had not worked. A full orchestra of kobolds pounding on drums had not worked.

Drawing dragon blood with a lance had not worked.

Through it all Doriz had been almost silent.

“Well, I'm out of ideas.” He looked at Doriz. “You’re Rizi’s mom, aren’t you?” Doriz winced. “Probably Lord Scorcher, but eggs are communal.”

“I doubt that very much. You smell the same. You have the same horns, the same eyes. You came running when you heard she might be in trouble. Kobolds might be lousy parents by dragon standards, but Doriz you….”

She looked at the dragon lord. Looked him right in his slate-colored eyes. She hung on his words. All kobolds did. But the dragon lord. The leader of all dragons. He was staring at her.

Passing judgement on her. She held her breath.

“You did okay, Rizi turned out just fine.”

She looked away. She wanted to change the subject to anything other than… her child. Her probable child. She wanted to shake. She needed a distraction. Otherwise she might start crying and she didn’t know if she could even explain why. She loved Rizi so much. Did she even know?

She decided to take a chance and voice her thoughts.

“Doriz thinks Smolder unable to wake up.”

Scorcher looked at Doriz, trying to understand her. It seemed obvious. That that was the core issue they were trying to resolve. Of course, she couldn’t wake up! What was Doriz thinking?

The kobold licked her lips then looked back up at Scorcher. “Doriz thinks maybe magic spell reason, yes?”

Oh. Well, that made more sense. “Go on…”

“Smolder powers the shield with her magic…” Doriz said.
“… something else is keeping the dragons asleep.”

“I thought you had to speak in sevens.”

“Unless ordered by dragon masters, we are.”

“Does ‘Go on’ count as an order?”

“Yes, Dragon Lord Scorcher it does, yes.”

Scorcher considered this. Then nodded. “So, if it is a spell, how would we break it?” he asked.

Doriz rolled her eyes at him. It was so obvious to her. Finally, she said “Probably traditional way of course Dragon Lord”. He continued to look at her blankly.

“True Love’s Kiss, cures all Dragon Lord.” Doriz looked up at Scorcher. Scorcher looked at Doriz.

He leaned over and kissed Smolder.

Nothing happened.

“I’m not in love with Smolder”, Scorch said. “I don’t know why I thought that would do anything.”

“Who is her true love Lord Scorcher?”

“I have no idea, but let's find out.” They went to ask other dragons, but a quick survey of the dragons and dragon lore regarding Dragon Lord Smolder turned up nothing useful. The dragon lord did learn where Rizi got her quick scampering from. Doriz was surprisingly light on her feet.

Sitting back on his council chair, Scorcher sighed heavily and said “So maybe she loved one of her classmates... who are all dead by now or at the very least inaccessible or missing, or maybe Spike. Also missing. How uniquely unhelpful.”

“Doriz, can you please ask the kobolds to ask their inner dragons? I know that sounds… strange or maybe crazy.”

Doriz looked at the dragon lord and nodded, taking her leave.

—

Kobolds might be lousy parents by dragon standards, but Doriz….

She turned once and looked at the dragon lord.

You did okay, Rizi turned out just fine.

Doriz shuddered. Dragons were awful parents. They let their children raise themselves. The juveniles banded together. But young could be so cruel. They abandoned their young for years, decades, even centuries at a time. Sometimes hatchlings didn’t know who their parents were, and even if they did sometimes the parents took little interest. The better ones did, but it was the exception not the rule.

Had she really raised Rizi like a dragon?

The tribe was supposed to all parent the young together. But she knew that wasn’t truly the truth. Kobolds doted on relatives and near relatives. She had certainly kept an eye on Rizi from afar. Guided her. Pointed out when she was making mistakes. Watched her progress.

Hidden her pride.

Concealed her feelings because it was what a kobold was supposed to do.

Even though she was her only egg. Her only child.

Doriz had never taken another lover after West.

West and his pretty spines and kind eyes. West and his restless and brave spirit. West had been so kind and attentive. So thoughtful. So skilled. Rizi was the same.

Doriz wondered if West had lived if Rizi’s life would have been different.

Probably.

Doriz went to go see the All-Watcher, but dragged her feet the entire walk, while she thought about her own life.

Serving dragons. Putting them first. Putting the tribe first. Putting her job first.

The tribe needed a strong leader. Doriz thought she was a decent Prioress. Her fortunes and readings had been very accurate. She had no doubt that she had been right about Rizi.

But she hadn’t predicted the blood moon.

She hadn’t predicted Rizi getting hurt.

She had failed Rizi as Prioress.

She hadn’t hugged her or kissed her goodbye.

She’d just watched her leave.

Now Rizi was dying, or dead.

Doriz remembered the night West died. He had defended Dust, his dragon from a Roc. Dust would been devoured. Ashes, Dust’s mother had arrived in the nick of time. Ashes had smashed that Roc. Too late to save West. Doriz had arrived just in time to watch West die.

She remembered Dust hugging and kissing Ashes. Telling her she loved her. Telling her she meant the world to her. She even remembered Dust and Ashes had honored West and thanked him. They had buried him themselves. They had told Doriz they were sorry for her loss. They had treated her as family. Rizi had been two. She was just starting to talk.

Doriz hadn’t even spoken to Rizi about West dying.

Hadn’t told her she loved her.

Hadn’t hugged her.

She’d been a kobold.

Saying things in seven words.

Obeying dragons.

Being a kobold.

Doriz was done.

36. A Different Game.

Of course, there was Flurry Heart, the daughter of Cadance the supposed former pegasus. Flurry Heart was simply born an alicorn. It is not known why this happened, but reports said her newborn magical strength nearly precipitated a natural disaster in the Crystal Empire.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

36. A Different Game

The Empire came back with a ka-thump. There was very little ceremony when the great nation known as the Crystal Empire simply popped back into existence from thin air near a snowy crater. Its towers, spires, halls, houses, and businesses and even the great central fortress known as the palace of the empress were momentarily warm and full of light. But it was empty. Not a single crystal pony walked the halls, strolled through the fields, or even slept in the homes. The Crystal Empire’s powerful defense allowed it to slip through time and avoid destruction again and again. After 1000 years the power of the temporal disjunction mega spell dissipated.

Wind whistled through the empty streets and snow began to fall. There was no shield of bright daylight keeping the cold out. The blue crystal heart spun so fast it appeared as a solid ovoid, but it began gradually to slow. It took quite some time to spin down. When it finally stopped, the light began to fade. The light of an empire once filled with hope and love by the emotions of its inhabitants began to fade. The illumination of love was simply replaced by the pretty but mundane ribbons of the northern lights.

A moment later with a crackle and pop, a large glowing pink alicorn mare appeared far above the palace in the crisp clear air. The abrupt change in ambient magic let Flurry Heart recognize the ending of her temporal disjunction spell. Her rage at Twilight and the deaths of her entire family had turned her eyes black like her distant uncle. Smoke poured from her hide, and a blinding blue light shone from her eyes.

She had been too slow to stop Twilight Sparkle and her minions. The populace of the Crystal Empire had been extirpated. Twilight Sparkle’s plan to remove the populace had succeeded. They were in the future, through the mirrors or in the astral plane. Unreachable. She was alone. Starlight Glimmer and Sunset Shimmer were nowhere to be found. There was no sound. Her panting faded, as her heart rate slowed.

Her horn, chest, wings, and hooves smoked from magical exhaustion. She closed her eyes as the blinding light from her eyes faded. Her blue and purple mane was singed, and her pink body was charred in places.

She had failed.

Failed to save her soul sister Skyla. Failed to save her mother Cadance. Failed to save her cousins Valentino and Clemente and failed to save her sweet fiancé.

She had failed to live up to her parent’s expectations.

No wonder her mother had held the breach instead of returning. Sacrificing herself instead of facing a future with no empire. Her cutie mark burned. The missing citizens were a physical pain. Taken from the world and put ‘elsewhere’, or lots of elsewhere, and elsewhens as well. With no way to track them and return them, she was devastated. The dissolution of the attachment to her subjects, written by the stars themselves on her flank was traumatic and profound.

The empire of ice and crystal, wonder of the north was a dead and empty shell.

It was intolerable. She felt the vast emptiness of a parent feeling the death of a child, or of a child for a parent. Thousands and thousands of missing individuals. The existential vacuum consumed her mind as her magic winked out.

Her eyes blinked black turning back to blue and then she closed them. She lost consciousness. Her pretty blue eyes rolled back into her head.

Her wings failed, and she fell from the sky.

With no one to catch her she fell twirling three thousand feet straight to the flat balcony of the crystal palace. Her body didn’t splatter so much as smash, and while its hide was somewhat complete, the bones had shattered.

Snow continued to fall, covering her in a thin covering of red that paled as the dusty blanket thickened until only white remained, burying the last empress and final citizen of the crystal empire in gentle white flakes.

37. Advancing Two Squares

The souls of the foul abominations were drawn into the void and their constantly regenerating forms died. A seal was placed on the great drain. But now Equestria was dead, and Canterlot a ruin.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

37. Advancing Two Squares

The speaking circle was livelier, as dragons came and went.

The Kobolds found it a new center for their work as they were asked to being food and drinks. A dozen were scampering back and forth fulfilling various draconic errands.

But in the center of the circle 4 dragons talked late into the night.

Dust, Searcher, Garble and the appropriately small dark gray and dumpy looking Klump, (lately awakened), talked through the possibilities in the speaking circle. Kobolds brought refreshments as dragons came and went. Scorcher had gone back to his hall.

The dark dragon Clump rolled a bright round sapphire between his toes. “How about a beer?” he asked.

“What?” asked Garble.

“I think better with a drink,” said Klump, “…but I was thinking,” and here he rolled the completely round sapphire again. “About the big shield of Smolder’s.”

“What about it?” asked Searcher.

“Is it a sphere?”

“What the shield?” asked Garble.

“Well yea. I mean, is it? Do we know if it like…”? he rolled the sphere again slowly across the stone. “…goes all the way down?”

Dust looked up. “You know, I have no idea. Searcher?”

Searcher twitched. “I don’t know, it stings like lightning, and I don't want to get near it.” he said.

“Well, we wouldn't have to,” said Garble. "I would guess it’s a sphere though, why wouldn't it be?"

"Well,” said Klump "it’s like the shield Shining Armor, the unicorn used to protect Canterlot when the Changelings attacked it."

"It's bigger and clear, well usually clear," said Searcher.

"Well sure, its dragon magic, and Smolder is fricking huge. Still... the changelings got into Canterlot. Some of them. They infiltrated from beneath. From the crystal caverns. It’s how Chrysalis was able to come and go and coordinate things while pretending to be Cadance, Shining's wife. I mean sure, they attacked from above, but they were already within the walls."

"How do you know so much about this?" asked Garble.

"I make statues, I was commissioned by Princess Twilight to make one to commemorate the battle on the twentieth anniversary." said Klump.

"Heh" said Garble. "Yes, the ponies like dragon art. They're not so bad once you get to know them. I used to hate them. Back when I was younger. But everyone changes." He sounded regretful and introspective for a moment. He was thinking of his sister Smolder again. Then he shook himself.

"Anyway. we can definitely check it and find out." Garble said. "Those Kobolds are tremendous diggers, regular Diamond Dogs. Dust, I bet if you asked, they could try and find a way to go under.”

“Why me?” she asked.

“They like you more than the rest of us.” Garble said.

“That's cause you guys are jerks, well not you Klump I don't know you that well. Or you Search, you’re always polite.”

“Hey, there are only the four of us!” said Garble.

“And yet… my statement remains.” She said with a faint smile to the large red and yellow Garble. “Still though, I think it's worth a shot, I’ll talk to the Tarnish the kobold All-Watcher,” said Dust, smirking. “Maybe there's a cave or tunnel or old mine that already goes part of the way?”

“That guy is so creepy. He looks like Drizzle if Drizzle was, you know, a guy, and well a kobold”. Klump said. “He’s really in charge?”

“Has been almost his entire life,” said Dust.

“What, why?” asked Garble.

Searcher started to explain. “He was born into it. Hope for an Untarnished Future’s egg was laid on the day the previous All-Watcher died. Big kobold hero. Saved a bunch of kobolds and the dragon hatchlings from a mine collapse.”

“I remember that story” Dust said. “The stone in the old hatchery had cracked, and it began to give way and collapse right when a bunch of hatchlings were in the nursery playing games with the young kobolds.”

“Right. The old all-watcher was named Hope something. Hope for a Glorious Future or something. Anyway, he organized an evacuation, even while rocks were still falling. He personally stayed behind holding up a support beam. They saved all the eggs, even one that had been laid that very morning. It was the last egg saved, and just as it was taken out, the entire chamber collapsed, with him in it.

“The left it as a monument for him,” concluded Searcher.

“As far as I know he’s the only kobold with his own tomb.” said Dust.

“Then in typical Kobold fashion, they made the new thousandth egg their next leader.”

38. Moving Diagonally

Without magic unicorns could not cast spells. Pegassai lost the ability to fly, and Griffons only could into a headwind. Earth ponies could not draw upon the land for farming. Weather ran wild.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

38. Moving Diagonally

“Rizi has my eyes and West’s spines,” said Doriz.

“Stop thinking about Rizi Doriz, can’t change.” said the All-Watcher.

“Tarnish, what if Lord Scorcher is right?” Doriz said miserably.

“Doriz, Lord Scorcher is the Dragon Lord.”

“Doesn’t that make Lord Scorcher always right?!”

“Always right about what in particular, Doriz?”

“Scorcher, he said kobolds were lousy parents!” she wailed, tears running down her green face.

“Sure, that is not what he meant.” He looked at the distraught kobold, his cataracts failing to focus on a blurry Doriz.

“Said by dragon standards we were lousy!” She continued wailing. “Dragons are horrible, terrible, awful, parents Tarnish!”

She curled in on herself holding herself and crying. “What does that make us, make me?” She sobbed “She’s all I have left of him.” Tarnish held her as she cried, his tail wrapped around her pulling her close. “He died so hard, now my baby.” She continued to cry.

In a quiet voice she said. “I love her so very much, Tarnish.”

She looked up through teary eyes at the All-Watcher who was holding her. “Tarnish, Tarnish what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” he said simply.

—

Rain and Wind were twins. Hatched from a single egg they had complex and identical coloration. They were brown and red and orange, with yellow spines.

Experienced hunters, they were close in size to each other, but as usual Rain being a female was slightly larger. Wind was a bit nimbler, and better at climbing.

The two of them together were even better - truly great hunters, able to anticipate each other and drive game towards the other. They could hunt quickly and quietly. More large dragons meant fewer threats from Rocs, and the skies were quite clear these days over the entire valley, and slingtails now knew better than to come into it. A month had made quite a change. Hunting had never been so good.

With a bag full of lizards, rock crabs, small rodents and even a pair of rock doves, they were returning to the residence hall and sleep when Dust found them.

“Hello little ones” she said.

“Hello, hello, great dragon Dust the Saved” they said together.

“Aww aren’t you sweet?” The white dragoness smiled at the two small creatures.

“Are you going home?” she asked.

“Yes, yes my lady Dust the Saved” answered Rain. Wind nodded.

“Do you know where I can find the All Watcher? I have a special task for him.”

“Sure mistress, Tarnish is in great hall.” answered Rain.

“Just follow us, we will take you.” said Wind, her tail wagging.

Together the white dragoness and two kobolds headed into the ancient kobold halls.

—

Dust and Tarnish spoke in low tones together briefly, and the dragoness left with a smile and a satisfied look in her eye.

The twins watched Tarnish as he stood in the center of the high hall. His old frame began to shale and rattle, as a coughing laugh rocked his frame.

Tarnish was, according to the kobolds of Dragonholme a reincarnation of their hero Hope for A Glorious Future. He had been bred to be a leader. His egg was the first one laid upon the previous Hope's glorious death rescuing dozens of kobolds from a mine collapse.

Tarnish had lived 135 years. He was the oldest kobold by quite a wide margin. Most kobolds tended to die young. Or of old age in their 80s or nineties. Occasionally one would ready 100 or 110. 120 was not unheard of.

Tarnish was 135. He felt it in his bones. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. A change of season perhaps.

During his lifetime the kobolds had closed all but one of the last few mines and had almost ceased mining. The dragons had simply had other needs.

But… kobolds were created to serve, work hard, and to mine. Kobolds are truly happy when they are hard at work mining for their dragons or for their tribe, and in bygone times mining was what they excelled at. For kobolds mining is one of the four great professions. Mining had been sadly neglected in Tarnish’s lifetime and so it was with joy that after failing to contact their inner dragon over Smolder's love life, Dust's request to explore and perhaps create a new tunnel was met with great enthusiasm.

Tarnish laughed, and even attempted a whoop. He felt 40 years younger.

Rain and wind looked at each other nervously. Tarnish summoned them to himself and with their help they gathered the others.

Tarnish shouted the news to the kobolds. They were going to mine. ALL OF THEM.

Kobolds take direction well. Especially when it comes from high authority. An older kobold will do. A supervisor is better. A priestess will do very well. Better yet is a prioress. Among kobolds, the all watcher does best of all.

But for kobolds there is divine authority readily available for direction. Any dragon will do. Particularly Dust. Dust was well respected, and her very life was a source of Kobold pride. A kobold had literally died for her, and he was an exemplar, a hero whose story every kobold knew.

But the dragon lord is the ultimate source of authority. He had made his desire to escape the valley quite clear, even being injured in the attempt.

So it was with few words that the entire kobold population began preparations for a change in priorities that very night.

They were to conduct a survey of all mines, caves and tunnels surrounding the borders of Dragonholme as well as trying some shallow excavations just under the shield. Those were unsuccessful, however. The shield went down at several dozen lengths.

By evening South Ridge and East Ridge had reported nothing helpful. They found only mines that led in the wrong direction or were far too deep to be swiftly helpful. By dawn North Ridge also reported no success. West Ridge had still not reported back.

Encouraging reports started to come from the West Ridge.

An old tunnel had been found. It was hazardous and deep but led up and in the right general direction under the ridges near the road through the pass. It was truly a very old mine, excavated by magic. Possibly by one of the pre-classical civilizations.

In two days, four careful scouts had pushed through to daylight on the far side. They had encountered an Ursa napping in a cave. Several kobolds had been injured retreating in haste through caverns now collapsing from the roars of an outraged star beast.

Still the message was clear. There was already an existing path to the other side.

No signs of the shield had been seen.

The All-Watcher smiled. Still feeling spry, the ancient kobold took his walking staff, assembled the kobolds, and gave them clear orders.

All 999 kobolds took up the work en masse.

Files of workers and mountains of materials were swiftly accumulated. Hundreds of support beams, steel pins, pickaxes, shovels, and mine carts were gathered from across Dragonholme by each of its thousand less one kobolds. Even the younglings were called into service to bring water and food down to the miners and carry small pails of tailings back. The work was hard but safe. Safety first was the watchword as walls were shored up, rotten rock was removed, and double and triple sets of iron timber and stone support braces, columns and arches were erected at speed. Old rails were fixed, new rails were laid and by dawn the next day three access shafts had been shored up and 50 lengths of track had been laid.

It was at this point that Tarnish chose to report to the Dragon Lord. Specifically, he told Doriz to tell Scorch that he needed dragons to haul ropes and pull carts.

39. En Pessant

The sun and moon careened through the sky, only gradually settling into a semblance of a cycle after a few dozen years. All the magical creatures lost their powers. Hippogriffs could no longer use pearls to switch forms and were stuck as hippogriffs or hippocampi. The dragons languished. Yaks could no longer smash. Buffalo no longer stampeded. And then the tower fell…

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

39. En Passant

“Where are all the kobolds?”

“You know I haven’t seen any all day or yesterday.”

For two days the kobolds of Dragonholme had vanished. Dragon thirsts went unquenched, and they had to sort through their hordes for their own dinners.

It was simply primitive.

—

At noon on the third day Doriz made her way to the High Hall of the Dragon Council to address the Dragon Lord.

Doriz had done some thinking. She wore her full regalia of office, robes with a cape and a tall wide brimmed and conical hat and strode boldly up to the giant dragon. “Dragon Lord Scorcher, Hope Untarnished requests aid.”

“Who, wait, what?” Said scorch, focusing on the small lizard.

“Hope for An Untarnished Future requests aid.” amplified Doriz without clarification.

“Doriz, is that All-Watcher Tarnish’s full name?” Scorcher asked, perplexed.

She nodded. Whatever was going on with this kobold?!?

“What sort of aid?”

“Strong dragons to haul carts of stone to swiftly complete the passage beneath the shield.”

“Wait, wait, what?”

“We have laid fifty lengths of mine cart track. We need another five thousand four hundred and fifty. We must remove spoil and over rock. Only dragons are strong enough to move the tonnage required swiftly. Gems and treasure will be provided for the dragon haulers. Tarnish estimates he can complete the work in thirty to thirty-six days, but the passage will be passable in slightly more than half of that time.”

It was more words than Scorcher had ever heard from a kobold - bar the one time when Rizi had repeated his message to the equestrians back to him.

“Doriz, what has changed?”

“Your wishes are my commands, my lord.” The green dragonette like kobold said with some heat in her voice.

“And your speech?”

“I have decided that any requests any dragon makes to me or statements in a questioning tone are in fact requests, orders if you will for me to explain to you at length and in complete detail anything you might wish to know. The geas the Fae doorkeepers put on the kobold race to only speak in sevens unless commanded can go to Tartarus sir. I have also decided that clarity is a better choice than servility when communicating with my ‘betters’.” Scorcher blinked at ‘betters’ she had nearly snarled the word…

“Is there more to this Doriz?”

“Yes sir, with all due respect, my baby girl is hurt, she needs my help, and I am a good mother!” She shouted in a huff at the giant dragon five hundred times her weight.

“Yes, you are Doriz. I will send dragons. Where to?”

“The speaking circle, we will direct you… sir.” She spat the eighth word, as if just to prove she could. The Prioress stomped her foot, turned sharply, and marched away, her cloak and cape flapping out behind her thrashing tail.

Scorcher watched her pointy hat depart in wonder.

And so it was that on the third day using minecarts, chains and ropes, Garble, Clump, Dust, Searcher and Scorcher himself, along with another dozen dragons found themselves reduced to the world's largest pack beasts as they hauled tens and then hundreds and then thousands and then tens of thousands of cubic kilo lengths of rock from a mountainside.

40. Bearing Off

The equestrians had to keep friendship at bay. The nightmare overlords could return if magic did. The seal would only work if magic remained low. So, the survivors had to prevent it from growing as it naturally would. The species separated. Even the ponies broke up into their old tribes.

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

1. Bearing Off

She blinked.

Rizi rested on the softest thing ever. It felt like feathers. Her tail was blown back and forth by the wind as it laid off the side of whatever she was laying upon. The stars overhead shone bright. Warm bodies lay to her right and her left.

She blinked.

The sky was blue. There were the cries of gulls. Closing her eyes, she could smell the sea in the breeze. It smelled clean and free of decay.

She blinked.

The night sky turned overhead slowly. There was the sound of waves. And singing. Beautiful singing.

She blinked.

41. Rolling Points

But now magic has returned. Are the overlords dead, do the ponies know somehow?”

—Pena “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

41. Rolling Points

The minotaur general Chop-Chop of Istanbull was angry. He was usually angry. Or at least annoyed. Yelling at his Ground Pounder subordinates was how he usually worked out his anger, but his immediate subordinates were all off running about preparing for this ‘race’ to Canterlot. Yelling at the second-string staff just wasn’t as liberating.

There had been distressing word that Perfect Storm had gone down with his ship, and his nephew. In Chop Chip’s opinion the boy was no loss, Close Shave’s hard work and bad luck would have made him a bad king in Chop-Chop’s view, but not as bad as that idiot Foreman the Skyforce had picked as their candidate. He was a hopeless romantic, and now that ‘magic’ had returned he was going on about reconstituting Equestria. As if that would ever happen. Dreamers were about as bad a king as one could imagine. Twilight Sparkle had been a dreamer, and it had nearly destroyed the world, and more worlds besides by all the ancient accounts…

Chop-Chop was an old campaigner. He had flanked the Saddle Arabians and defeated their threatening armies after capturing a critical oasis in a series of night marches that had made him famous. His troops were experienced, highly trained and well-motivated. He thought his chances of returning from Canterlot before the navy could mount another expedition were excellent. Unless the Skyforce pulled off a miracle, he could probably count them out. He was aiming for a campaign of 60 days with a small force that he would supplement as he went. That was partially boasting of course. It would likely take longer, but it would be an amazing accomplishment regardless. Iron Horse claimed she had been there. But it had taken her almost 6 months to return from there. Years to get there the long way if she was to be believed.

Chop-Chop believed her. She was touched, crazy and determined, but she had that special kind of madness that made one able to do amazing things. She had no fear. Chop-Chop had had lieutenants like that. He had a few now. That hot head Risk Taker was one. He knew from experience that leaders like that either went on to become legends or they met a bad end and took others with them.

He had to keep an eye on them. He’d paired Taker with Marshal, a much calmer lieutenant, whom he’d hope would rub off on the young headstrong bull, but rather the opposite appeared to be happening. Marshal was becoming more decisive, and that was a good thing. But it was his cautious nature that had caused him to select him for this mission. Still… they worked well together. He should put them under someone who would keep them in line.

Maybe that ass-hat Captain Syrup. He was such a prick. With any luck the bad behavior would cancel out or one or the other would quit. Maybe both. He’d have Payne investigate Syrup. Maybe the major could find some reason to leave Syrup behind.

Syrup rubbed Chop-Chop the wrong way. He was a boot licking fop who treated his subordinates like garbage. He had a few trusted noncoms who did all the real work, but the constant requests for transfer from the various units he’d led reflected badly on the captain. He wouldn’t have taken him, but he was politically connected and Baron Windbag, the old aristocrat had made it clear that either he went, or Chop-Chop would find life ‘difficult’. Sometimes it wasn’t worth fighting every battle. Still taking Syrup on was a risk.

Chop-Chop of course realized there were risks in any military operation. But you tried to minimize them when you could. One too many risks had sent perfect Storm to a watery grave. There were risks, but there was also treachery and murder, especially when it came to politics and the succession.

He had his current position because he’d cleaned up after the steers had killed Black Ball and had exercised restraint and kept the bloodshed and settling of scores to a minimum. He’d also had a hand in defending and picking Iron Hoof as king in the chaos of Windbag’s little coup-within-a-civil-war. He was quite sure that Windbag had no idea of his role in that, blaming the haram steers instead, but the general preferred an orderly kingdom to the piratical mess the Bags would have had Istanbull degenerate into had they ended up on top at the end of the brief ‘social war’. Plus, he’d gotten revenge for his gelded brothers by thwarting Bags’ ambitions. So, a win all around.

Still, the sinking of the Manatee stunk to high heaven. In Zebrenica it was generally recognized that it was a good idea to kill an admiral from time to time to encourage the others, but in Istanbull, Storm had been a fixture for decades. He had been talented, hardworking, and professional. He had believed in a healthy interservice rivalry between the army and the navy, but a professional one. They had both looked with humor at the nascent Skyforce.

If accounts could be believed, a saboteur had murdered him and several hundred marines and sailors.

Rather than relax, Chop-Chop had redoubled his efforts and the secrecy of his expedition. He alone knew his candidate’s name (he hadn’t picked one). He alone knew the route they would follow (through the zebra lands skirting the rim of the ocean). Nothing was written down besides immediate orders. It required complete operational security, and he would only reveal his plans to his second in command (Payne) the morning he departed.

—

A note had come this morning. It had no name and merely said “Please consider Badger Baiting as a candidate”, a gym locker key was included with the note. The locker in question was found to contain bearer bonds and notes worth three hundred thousand gold rings or more.

The general had enjoyed lighting the cash on fire right there in the locker.

His MPs had had to prevent the owners of the gym from interfering. When the fire was out, he simply walked back to his nearby office and shut the door.

He had his bulls double the number of guards and told his friend Police Captain Forthright to make it clear to Badger “Puddin” Baiting that he was out of the running, had never been in the running and in fact whomever his politically connected friend was, he should consider immediate retirement.

—

Chop-Chop received a letter that evening. It had no signature but was written in an elegant hand on fine palace letterhead. A wax seal with a rampaging bull impressed on it had been the only signature. It made for disturbing reading. After reading it he burned it, reflecting that many things were being burned these days.

Apparently, the king had been busy with his investigations. He was a smart bull. A bit too self-indulgent, and not a military man certainly, but he was honest, forthright kind and calm. He was honorable, in a way almost none of those in the nobility were. It was a shame he had no heir. Chop-Chop had grown used to him being predictably boring. But he wasn’t boring anymore. If only the king had had this fire a dozen years ago, the kingdom would be very different. “Ah well….” He said to himself.

Preparations for the departure of the Ground Pounders continued, News that the zebras had shut the borders caused the consultation of maps and some adjustments and restructuring.

The cutting off the zebra lands added hundreds of canters to the trip. On the other hoof, it potentially eliminated a lot of hilly terrain, three rivers, a bay crossing and thousands of canters of forest, replacing it with what was hopefully merely an incredibly boring and monotonous environment west of the mountain range. What it added was a journey up the coast and upriver to High Lake in the heart of the Kirin territory and beyond.

It seemed as if the recently departed Close Shave’s bad luck had transferred to new and more deserving owners. A week later, an acquaintance of Baron Wind Bag, a certain Count Blowhard retired his court position in favor of his young protege Viscount Hot Air but like the Count he too soon had an unfortunate accident involving stairs that left him in a wheelchair a week later. There were rumors of sudden financial difficulties.

But by then Chop-Chop had departed.

42. Major Split

“That is why we travel to Canterlot.”

—Pena on Pena on “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

42. Major Split

It felt good to be free of the stench of the city, and though the Ground pounders did their best to bring the stench with them, the hard-working sailors and crew of the cargo ships kept dousing them with buckets of water and a certain perverse joy,

The marines who made up the Royal Navy and had drowned with their admiral were experienced in shipboard fighting and in making transitions from land to sea and back again. They could handle hard work on land, and then more had work at sea, and few suffered from sea sickness or nausea to any noticeable degree.

The minotaur Ground Pounders were not marines. For most, the puking seasickness had almost stopped by the time the northward sailing had reached the river south of the delta. The trip up the coast to the river that split the delta was miserable for every single one of them. The sailors had amused themselves by taking bets on which soldier would become sick next. The vigorous dousing the captains insisted on to keep the ships rinsed and cleaned ensured that the bulls were at least not covered in filth. But the sandy seashore went on and on, even after the turn, and only after they had joined the more northern split of the delta river did the northern bank finally begin to show some plant life and scraggly trees.

Over the next few days, the trees grew in height and frequency and eventually the grass leapt over to the southwestern bank as they sailed northwest up the river towards the divergence of the river that led to the northern lake where the kirin waited eagerly for relief supplies.

The relief ships were happy to have free stevedore labor to help them both load and unload cargo, and the addition of 500 minotaur passengers and several dozen folding rickshaws required only the most minimal of adjustments. It also promised an additional lucrative trip delivering them beyond High Lake once the relief supplies arrived in the kirin lands there.

The trip up the coast and past the delta and northwest upriver was fast if choppy owing to the ever-present east wind and uneventful. Ships traveled swiftly both ways on the river, the curved kirin style hulls (crewed by minotaurs and a few zebra) with three masts were very fast, their square-rigged battens of their sails straining under the constant strong breeze. The winds were perfect this time of year for a journey west and north. Following the river current downriver or the swift winds upriver a ship could turn around a half dozen times before the turning trade winds stranded them at the river mouth each trade season.

The army bulls on deck saw many strange sights. There was wildlife, but it avoided them. A tri-horned bunyip investigated them. Then there were the amusing antics of some river going dolphins and a few polite and well-mannered sea serpents who followed them and conversed for a time. Once they took the distributary river branch north, a few minotaur soldiers were partially and temporarily turned to stone by some of the more aggressive wildlife. The effect wore off after a day or so (unless reapplied by another cockatrice at close range).

The soldiers soon learned to listen to the sailor’s advice to avoid watching the western shore until they were well past the cockatrice lair. Apparently, the beasts were back, and in greater numbers. The petrification effect was apparently a new horror to add to the famously nasty bite of the bird serpents.

This was followed by a small and indecisive battle with a small hydra, but the shouting and smacking the beast got had it scampering away. Later that night the cautiously sailed past a far larger beast that was sleeping.

The lush savanna of Zebrenica was now to their east. Rocs flying on the overhead river thermals would occasionally dive down into the savanna and snap up an elephant or giraffe. They ignored the boats and their tiny passengers as not worth the effort. Zebra played, fished, and swam along the shoreline. Each night the Ground Pounders would try to recruit zebras from the shoreline with promises of gold and adventure. Every evening they sailed with a few more strong Zebras. They only gathered a handful or two each day but in twelve days they had gathered nearly 80.

Twelve days of sailing inland in perfect weather with perfect winds pushed the ships of the relief fleet all the way to high lake past the Zimbabwean Savana on the east and the forbidding Remore range to the east. A few phoenixes flying overhead, and a few nasty nibbles from biteacudda from those foolish enough to try swimming were the notable highlights of that elevated body of water. The kirin who owned the western shore gratefully, gracefully, and mostly silently received the relief supplies. No one burst into fire during the unloading, at least where the minotaurs could see.

General Chop-Chop went to the eastern shore to hire zebras if any were porters or haulers to be had for the journey to Canterlot. In the end he acquired just 20, but two dozen kirin refugees from the western shore were also to be had for next to nothing. They insisted on metal tack, but High Lake Port and the fleet easily accommodated those requests. The minotaur captains insisted the apparently newly dangerous kirin stay above deck and sleep on metal sheets or anchor chains on the deck until they disembarked.

By this time the ships departed, everyone had caught the fiery flash of a nirik here and there, so the precautions seemed prudent.

Quickly unloading the relief supplies and consolidating onto five barges, the Ground Pounders exited the lake northward. The river became swift. Careful piloting had them come to the final northern shore at the mouth of the river of the Kirin lands on the evening of the twentieth day after setting out. Now west of Zebrenica they were on the southwest side of the Jackalope Slopes, at the far edge of the vast Tartarian range, an empty and desolate land.

The land they could see was grassy, flat and had infrequent strands of trees with only a few poor fisher folks living here and there, mostly zebras, but an occasional minotaur or kirin was seen. None would join the expedition when they learned of the route it proposed to take.

Apparently un-farmable, the gently rolling hills and flatlands to the northwest of the mountains was plagued by frequent periodic drought, windstorms, dust storms, hailstorms, tornados, locusts, gnats, biting flies, poisonous snakes and toads, venomous and aggressive hordes of ravenous jackalopes and a strange disease that caused unhealable boils. This vast region stretched across the mountains and almost into Equestria, ending at the forests west of Canterlot.

But they were not here to settle the land. They were here to run through it. All the land west of the mountains was reported to be piney, cool, and flat. Perfect for running. The Ground Pounder 1st Expeditionary Force assembled their rickshaw vehicles with their large sprung wire wheels. It was just over 3000 canters to Canterlot or 4800 kilo lengths. They knew they were about to make history. They were calling it the 3KiloCantertrot. Wags were calling it the 3 killer cancer trot.

They were told to hurry. The farmers expressed concern because the locusts were just beginning to hatch.

—

Lieutenant Marshal and Risk Taker were put to work unloading and preparing for the run. The met their Kirin and Zebra haulers and threw themselves into the work. Partially that was to avoid having to deal with their current superior. They had found that Captain Syrup was a uniquely unpleasant individual.

He was insulting, rude, boorish, and unfailingly polite and refined whenever his superiors were watching. The two-faced bull was more concerned with his appearance and position than with doing his job. He was rumored to be married ‘just for looks’, his wife just a glorified tenant who didn’t even share a bedroom with the minotaur.

Instead, he took every opportunity to lecherously comment on the physiques of his enlisted bulls, vainly require his sergeants to clean and press his kit and impetuously flit from task to task impeding progress and offering no useful input. He was prissy, pissy and rude whenever one of his subordinated had a request but was all smiles and charm for his equals or superiors.

The work was getting done despite him rather than because of him.

It was with some relief from the rest of that section when a pair of new sergeants took the opportunity to shirk their duties and become his lickspittles, fetching things for him, and otherwise keeping him distracted. Neither of the non-coms was well liked, and having the three odious men off annoying each other, and doing whatever they were doing in their tent together.

The captain had money which he spent freely, and it was that, and perhaps the promise of more of that that endeared them to him. His carousing didn’t seem to interfere with his true duties, so his superior Major Payne took no special notice of it, beyond mild annoyance.

—

“En Guarde!” Marshal and Risk taker sparred with dueling swords. Several kirin and zebras watched the flashing swords. Left Guard, Short Guard, Long Guard they practiced technique after technique till they were quite winded. A few other bulls tried their hands, and even a few zebras who had to wear two mail shirts to protect their heads. Risk taker and Marshal were far better than any of them, having trained for years.

Finally, a big kirin stepped forward. He was brown and grey and bit larger than the mares, and he walked with a somber expression. He looked at Marshal and Risk taker, and without speaking picked up the mail shirt the last Zebra had used with his hooves and wrapped it around his head and another over it to make an improvised face guard. Unlike the other quadrupeds, pe picked up a third shirt and stepped back into it, synching it with a belly band. His horn glowed and he picked up the dueling sword in with his levitation.

“Well, that’s new” said Risk Taker. Marshal just stared. They had seen kirin using magic to float some small things but never a weapon. This was new territory.

“Best of five?” asked the newcomer.

“Sure” answered Risk. “What’s your name friend?”

“Crinet” answered the kirin.

“That’s a piece or barding, equine armor, isn’t it?”

“Armor over the neck yes.” The dark stallion said. “My father was Crupper. Armor names go in the family. I am more familiar with lances and spears, but since magic has come back… I’ve branched out.

He flourished the sword slightly in front of himself, getting a feel for the thin practice metal.

The minotaur bowed slightly and the kirin nodded. The began to circle each other. The sword drifted farther away from the kirin. Tall, thin, and wiry, Risk Taker was fast and reacted quickly, but he could not keep an eye on both the practice blade and the Kirin.

A quick stab in the back scored one for the Kirin and focused the athletic minotaur on the blade.

A swipe and a kick had Risk taker looking up at the sun and laying in the dust. The kirin was also fast and very quiet.

Marshal was chuckling.

Splitting his attention was even worse, as a drip and a swat with the flat of the blade had him earing dirt.

The spectators whooped and hollered at this sudden reversal of fortune.

Marshal said “Stop embarrassing yourself. Let me show you how to do this.”

Drawing his practice blade, Marshal saluted the Kirin. He began an immediate attack, swipe after swipe directed directly at the Kirin.

Crinet gave way. The attack had no finesse, it was just comprehensive and relentless, affording no opportunity to move aside or disengage. Marshal quickly closed the distance and switched to a single-handed grip and attacking with a strong but clumsy slash. Crinet parried it, but this opened him up to the true attack.

Marshal smacked the Kirin on the horn with an open palm. The sword dropped and the kirin was tagged on his suddenly defenseless side.

“Where did you learn that?” asked Crinit.

“History book” said Crinet, “written by a mercenary who fought in some equestrian civil war. Its one of the oldest books in Istanbull.”

Panting slightly, Crinet picked up his blade they saluted each other and Crinet began an immediate attack.

He reared when Marshal tried to repeat his horn tap and the smack of his hoof on Marshal’s hand unbalanced him and Crinet scored a tap on Marshal’s head.

Grinning they repeated, both attacking this time. They scored on each other. A draw.

And another. And a third.

Red faced and perspiring freely, Marshal saluted Crinet.

“So, you have to attack when faced with magic and try and disrupt it, long matches favor whomever has the horn” said Risk Taker.

“Well yes, that works in a spar when both opponents restrict themselves to blades and limbs” said Crinet.

“In a real fight?”

“Well, that depends on the magician, I guess. I can deflect blows, trip opponents, and others can do things like create an invisible barrier like a shield. Particularly talented mages – they used to be called battlemages – they could accurately manipulate multiple weapons, maintain a defense, throw things, shove their opponents, or use magic on their opponents.”

“Can you do any of that stuff?”

“I can barely pick up three things at once and have to see them when I’m doing it. But I do know one trick. Why don’t you both try me at once?”

The two minotaurs readied themselves and saluted the Kirin. The kirin saluted them, then picked them both up a few feet with his telekinesis, startled, they flailed in the sudden floating sensation and were both dropped and smacked on the top of the head one after another in short order.

A cheer went up from the spectators.

Sitting in the dirt, the two lieutenants looked at each other.

“Well, that happened.” Risk taker said. Marshal nodded.

43. Meeting of the Celestial Spheres

“I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen.” – R. Dash

—“Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

43. Meeting of the Celestial Spheres

Swift Spear decided to stay in Bridlewood. His brother was a judgmental jerk.

Sturdy Spear decided to go where his unrepentant and possibly deviant brother wasn’t.

The cooks were glad to be rid of both. Even if the brothers had poked that manticore a bit and gotten it to back off. It hadn’t been worth it. In Bridlewood once they found a unicorn willing to join their culinary adventure the three cooks hired of Sheriff Porter’s deputies for the trip back to Zephyr Heights.

The unicorn Tasty Treat was aloof, quiet, reserved, and taciturn. When offended she used the silent treatment. Sugar Paradise and Apple Glory found her to be simply delightful company.

—

Sturdy Spear was looking for adventure, and so had set off with a shiny blue and white pegasus he had met who found him far less annoying than the cooks had. The pegasus said he was on a quest to help a maiden, and that sounded adventurous enough. Sturdy Spear had offered to come along and the pegasus had said yes.

Said pegasus had a blue tail and mane that clashed horrifically with Sturdy’s own yellow body and green mane. The yellow mane stripe just made matters worse. He found Sturdy less annoying because so far, he hadn’t noticed how Sturdy never shut up. This was because he himself had hardly stopped talking, and the two kept up a constant conversation for miles as the road went by.

“So, your queen will really hire just anyone, regardless of tribe?” That didn’t sound like how he’d been taught Pegassai were. They were supposed to be mean, vicious, swooping down from the air to force earth ponies to do whatever they wanted.

“That’s what she said, unicorns, earth ponies, pegassai, no problem. Just like the old equestrian EUP. Some sort of technology exchange. They’re putting up cell towers between Bridlewood and Maretime Bay. Queen Haven’s even got that big Alphabittle fellow and your Cloverleaf and their friends making the old airships go. I rode around on one before I flew out here. It was like something out of a story. Earth ponies revving it up and doing all the hard pulling and hauling, pegassai flying around, adjusting everything, and keeping it trim and unicorns keeping it running and charging the big crystal spinney thing.”

“What’s that do?”

“Beats me. It makes the propellers go somehow and they push it.”

“And this Knight Silver Shine, she really wants an earth pony squire?”

“Ser Shine said she wanted someone to carry her stuff. And she loves to spar. Maybe a little too much. She kicked my tail in basic and about flew my wings off. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind teaching you. If you can keep up.” Diamond Flitter looked at Sturdy Spear. “No offense, but you don’t look all that fast.”

“I’m fast enough in a fight. You should have seen me with that manticore.” He made Smack, smack, slash, stab, stab motions with his spear.

“Sure, sure, we’ll see. Anyway, Knight Silver Shine. Technically I am Ser Shine’s senior squire, and I can hire other squires to help me. She was my sponsor to the Royal Courier service – it’s part of Queen Haven’s guard. Only now we’re expanding to cover Bridlewood and Maretime Bay. She said I was too pretty to be useful. And not to brag, but I know I’m easy on the eyes. All the attention from mares and even a few stallions is great, but I want to do more than just be someone pretty in a uniform. I want to stretch my wings, go on adventures and see things now that Queen Haven says its ok to fly wherever we like.”

“She used to restrict that?”

“Yea, well it’s a real old law, like 800 years old. We weren’t allowed to fly so far from Zephyr Hills than we lost sight of it. That’s like 200 kilo lengths. That was right after the Twilight’s Folly fell.”

“What was that?”

“You don’t know about that? Well like 800 years ago, there was this big tower Twilight Sparkle made before she vanished. It was this magical tower that went right up into the sky. It was supposed to be a kind of giant travel hub, to like everywhere. It took Equestria like forever to build. It had all these crystals and magic constructs. It was supposed reach even higher than the atmosphere.

“Dad said it had called elevators – moving platforms that went up and down, and all these magical doors that cut travel time to other places in Equestria, and even other worlds. He said it was supposed to bring everyone closer together. Anyway, after Equestria broke apart, pegassai and everyone still used it for meetings and stuff. It was easy to get to, and it all still worked. Anyway, the special doors, we had one in Zephyr Heights. But then the whole thing just came crashing down one day. Weird thing was, you could still use the door, but now a huge wind blew through it so you could only go through the one way, and it just opened out into the sky. So darn high it was hard to breathe. Every so often whoever was king or queen of Zepher Heights would send a pegasus or two through it to see if anyone else was coming to the meetings, but then it was a long flight back. It was way harder to get back to home from for other creatures. Because we’re close to Canterlot you see. Most critters don’t have wings, so they just stopped coming. That was right around the time we stopped being able to do more than glide.”

“Wow that’s crazy. I have trouble even picturing that.”

“Yea I know. Well, the tower used to be in Canterlot, and that’s where I’m headed.”

“So, this Blue Blossom you said you were on a quest to help. Who is she?”

“Oh, well she’s the maiden daughter of these Bridlewood ponies. Their house almost burned down. Anyway, she told her parents she was going to Canterlot to save the world and stop some tragedy she could foresee by looking up at the stars in the sky.”

“That sounds farfetched.”

“She told her parents her brothers were going to burn the house down before they did.”

“Huh.”

“And she said her brother was going to get into a fight.”

“Kids fight.”

“With a specific kid.”

“Still not proof.”

“Her mom said we were going to meet her on the road to Canterlot at the bridge over winsome falls at dusk.” Landing he pointed down the road with both his wings and hooves.

Sturdy Spear looked up. There was a pale light blue unicorn standing at the start of a stone bridge over a small waterfall. She appeared to be meditating and waiting patiently.

The day was dying in the west. Blue Blossom’s light blue coat shone with all the colors of the sky as the sun set.

“Wo-o, that’s freaky.” said Sturdy Spear.

--
Bluebell looked up just then and smiled. Draco’s avatar had succeeded in asking one of the servants of Terra Equuleus to aid the children of Taurus in their quest to reach Canterlot. The servant was not a pony… not exactly. Though she felt a close kinship to her, the old servant had been – very different than what she had expected. Another, like her coming into her own in adulthood, or in the servants case late adulthood.

But now finally the children of Pegasusand Terra Equuleus had arrived. Events were once again unfolding as desired by Immortales Alicornis and Harmony. It was time to make some new friends. She stood up and greeted the two newcomers warmly.

44. Сцинтиллятор

“Everything must have its opposite. I believe we are destined to ultimately succeed. It is impossible for a Yin to exist without a Yang, and a pendulum must be able to swing back and forth, otherwise a clock can’t exist at all. If we fail, the universe itself will come crashing down and if it does no one will be around to remember our failure anyway.” – Twilight Sparkle, upon receiving news of the fall of Holstein

—“Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

44. Сцинтиллятор

The young bull lieutenant Risk Taker was knocking on the wooden post beside the general’s tent. The general annoyed at the interruption looked from his notes and papers.

“Yes? What is it?” asked Clip Clop.

“Some old zebra lady is here to see you. She was waiting on the shore. She says it's important and won’t go away.”

He saw a black eye and bruises on the lieutenant’s face and considered asking him about them. The lieutenant was tall, thin, fit, and wiry.

In the end he decided not to. If the lieutenant was getting into fights that was his superior’s problem. So far Captain Syrup had been… useless but not an actual impediment to the mission.

Grimacing, the captain sighed. The paperwork was boring anyway. “Well send her in.”

The lieutenant turned and fetched her. If the lieutenant was small but healthy, the zebra by contrast looked like a stiff breeze would kill her. She hobbled in with an uncertain gait, and slowly approached him. The lieutenant appeared ready to steady her if needed. That was good. It showed thoughtfulness and initiative. The Ground Pounders needed officers who could think. The general resisted the urge to smile slightly.

“You are the one they call the general?” He nodded to the old zebra in her scratchy white and black cloak. She was covered from muzzle to flank in tattoos, marked in black ink. White astronomical signs covered her muzzle. “I am Elena, one of the star-touched.” Her words were spoken in strangely accented Poni. It sounded like how actors pretending to be ancient equestrians spoke.

Chop-Chop drew away. That zebra tribe had a nasty reputation. Even other zebras avoided them. Prophecy, curses and madness were reported to follow them wherever they went.

“Why have you come?” he asked.

“The Spirits often speak to me. One such spirit brought a unicorn to me in a dream, and this unicorn, she begged me to aid you in your journey.” The old zebra looked at the general long and hard. Then turned and peered at the lieutenant, who drew back from the intense scrutiny. She shook her head and leaned toward the general. “You intend to travel through the lands west of the mountain to the cursed city of Canterlot.”

“I do.”

“The land between here and there is forbidden and dangerous, and not all of its dangers are readily seen. Those who lived under the mountains destroyed themselves long ages ago, but the evil they unleashed in the Dawn War lingers within that land poisoning all who come near.” She made a warding sign with her hooves and spat.

Looking down, she rummaged inside her robes.

The general was perplexed. The Dawn War. It was a legend and little more. Far to the west in the desert of Saddle Arabia there were large black glass craters in the desert said to date from that time. They were impossibly old and eroded, and clearly something immeasurably destructive had made them. The notion of a lingering curse though, that was new to him.

She hoofed over to Clip Clop a small cylinder made of a strange white material wrapped in a thin wire and hung from a chain. The small container was covered in glass and held a clear solid block inside it. “Take this for safety. If you see the crystal glowing within, you need to abandon wherever you are and move elsewhere.”

The general waited for her to say something more, but she remained silent. Realizing she was done and recovering from surprise at this generosity Chop-Chop said “Thank you for this gift. May I repay you for this generosity?”

“Oh, tall one, I don’t need thanks. Reach the Pony Lands safely. They are going to need your kind there.” She smiled and bid Chop-Chop farewell, turning slowly and unsteadily. Risk Taker showed her out.

Risk Taker returned and “What was that all about?” he said.

“I don’t know. Here take this. Keep it safe. I’m going to assign you to the vanguard under Captain Syrup. Don’t lose it. If you see it glowing, tell whoever is in charge, there to move away from wherever they are till it stops. Understand?”

The lieutenant saluted and smiled, taking the charm. ‘Wow’ he thought, ‘a real magical talisman to ward off evil, zebra certified.’ It even had some writing on the back. Сцинтиллятор. Hum. Cunhtn-pi-pi-rtop. “Well, let me keep you safe,” he said. He hung the chain around his neck and tucked it into his vest.

45. Main Flight

“We don’t really know what happens when we pass on. Will it be oblivion? Why should we fear death anyway? Were we afraid before conception or before birth? Wherever we return to is just going to be going back whatever that was.” – T. Sparkle

— “Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

45. Main Flight

Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah

Ah-ha, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

Ah-ha, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

She had lain on soft cat bird feathers and awoken. Three voices were singing. The sound was incredibly enchanting. The voices were like a beautiful ocean. It was welcoming, enlightening, frightening and a warning all at once. There might have been words, but they didn't matter.

The sound broke like waves crashing down. It was impossible not to listen, impossible to turn away. She wanted to listen to the singers forever. Hear their song, adore them, worship them, obey them….

But she couldn’t. She was now falling, falling from the sky like the earth pony Icarus who had gotten too close to the sun to be with his pegasus love and whose wax wings had melted. But she was soon gently diverted from her plummeting fall and soaring back up into the sky...

“Woah there, didn’t see you with those griffons. Hmm. what are you?” She opened her eyes. A purple dragon fish horse was holding her. It was so pretty. She said so.

“You are very beautiful.”

“Sonata, I caught something?” the pretty purple fish horse said.

“What is it Aria?” A pretty blue fish horse dragon asked. She flew through the sky, around and around. She was so graceful.

“I don’t know,” Aria said.

“You are graceful and pretty,” Rizi said to Sonata.

“Aww that’s sweet. Ever seen one of these?” Aria said.

“No, that’s new. Adagio, stop playing with the stupid cat birds on that cloud, and look at this thing Aria caught” Sonata called

“♫I am coming♪. ♫Pay attention♪. ♫You need to stay right here♪. ♫Don’t ignore me♪. ♫Listen to my words and obey♪.” the third voice sang/said. “♫You stay right there♪. ♫Till I tell you♪. Got it?”

A pale-yellow horse dragon fish came over. It looked at Rizi. Rizi looked back at her.

“Is it a baby dragon?” asked Aria.

“The griffons had her. Maybe she’s adopted?” said Sonata.

The pale-yellow horse dragon fish looked at her companions “You'll have to excuse them. They're idiots.”

Rizi smiled at her. “You have the most beautiful singing voice. I think I’m in love with you.” Rizi said deliriously.

Adagio looked at Aria “Ok, what, did you fry her brains with your singing? I told you not to overdo it. Now that we’re back, in Equestria we have more power. You have to keep it reined in.”

Aria looked hurt. “No Adagio. I haven’t even sung to her at all, at least not specifically. Maybe she overheard us singing to the cat birds?”

“Griffons Aria. They’re called Griffons.” Said Adagio.

“Well maybe she’s just a fan? She doesn’t have any wings.” Sonata observed.

“Well, how did she get all the way up here?” Sonata asked.

“I smelled her on the Griffons. I was wondering what that dragon smell was. I guess they were carrying her?”

“What do you mean, like as a snack?” Sonata asked.

“Not everything everyone does is for a snack Sonata.” Adagio said, “Though, as much blood as I’m smelling, maybe you’re right.”

“I didn’t think griffons ate baby dragons; it seems dangerous.” Aria said. “What if the parents showed up?”

“Adagio. Look, our little fan, she's hurt. She has a big bandage on her front and back and it's soaked with blood,” said Sonata.

“Oh hey, you’re right.” Adagio flew back to the griffons. “Hey, you two, how'd the dragon-whelp get hurt? And how’d you hurt your own paw there? And where were you taking her?”

“I shot her with an arrow,” said a dazed voice that sounded like Gwen but wasn’t. “I shot myself first. We’re taking her to Griffonstone to try and save her, to get her help.”

“What? Why’d you shoot yourself? That’s stupid. I don’t believe you.”

“I thought she was a monster. I thought she was going to eat me. So, I shot her. But I missed her twice first. Then I shot myself. Then I shot her.”

“I think you are an idiot, and you shouldn’t play with arrows.” Adagio turned to her companions. “Hey Sonata, this griffon is way dumber than you are.”

“Thanks Adagio.”

“Don’t thank her for that, Sonata. That was an insult. You are the worst Adagio,” said Aria who had flown closer with Adagio. “So why were you helping her if you shot her?” asked Aria.

“She’s my friend,” said Gwendolyn. “The idiot who shot her is my brother.”

“A likely story,'' said Sonata. If you like her so much, what's her name?”

“Rizi” said Gwendolyn.

Aria looked at the kobold she was holding gently. “Hey, misses dragon fan what is your name?”

“Rizi is Rizi pretty dragon horse lady.” said Rizi who snuggled deeper into Aria’s warm scaley purple hooves and passed out again.

“Lucky guess,” said Sonata.

“Well, she’s not going to make it that far. At least not with you two idiots.” Adagio said matter-of-factly.

“Why not?” said Aria, snuggling the kobold sweetly.

“We’ll she’ll die Aria” said Adagio. “They’re too slow, and it's too far. I’m surprised she’s not dead already. Can’t you smell her?”

“Well sure, but I’d hate to lose a fan, she’s our first since we got back Adagio!” Sonata exclaimed “It can be our what did that Tag-A-Long scout girl call it? Good deed for the day.”

“That’s true, we do need fans… and it’s not too far for us I don’t think. Not like we had anywhere to be,” Aria agreed.

“Plus, it's sort of bad luck to start off on the wrong foot now that we’re back.” Adagio said. “I don’t want to end up as a pincushion though. When we get there, you two birdbrains are going to give us an escort to a doctor or a hospital or whatever you have and make sure nobody tries anything funny ok? Like shooting at *monsters* mmhmm?”

The two griffons nodded. Sonata grabbed Gwen and Adagio grabbed Gerrard and the trio of sirens set out at a far faster pace to the north, swimming through the air as readily as they did the sea. Adagio and Sonata began to sing carrying the griffons effortlessly as they orbited and spun around Aria who was cradling the unconscious kobold.

Where do we go? Every day's the same
Did we lose the magic, magic, magic?
So ordinary, stuck on repeat
Gotta find the passion, passion, passion

The days go round and round, round and round
Gotta break away, find a great escape
Round and round and round
Round and round and round

Ohhh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find the magic

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, let's find the magic

46. The King and I

“Well, that’s an encouraging thought. I was hoping you might have some pleasant thoughts before we reach the aetheric plane.” – S. Glimmer, reply to T. Sparkle

— “Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

46. The King and I

Count George Starfield equerry to the Griffon king had promised Giselle a private audience with King Gerald on Tuesday at six, and meanwhile he would make proper inquiries regarding the missing Gerrard and his sister Gwendolyn.

Giselle wore a new dress her mother had begged a friend of a friend Giorgio to make for the audience. It was black, tight, and ruched, and showed just the tiniest bit of tail and paw while leaving her forelimbs free. She suspected it was now the most expensive thing the family owned.

Other than that, she was simply clean, brushed and had had a pedicure and her talons done in sheer talon and claw polish.

She wore no jewelry and was painfully aware of the fact she was the only one without it. The castle clock began to chime, and upon the sixth bong, the door to the audience hall was opened and a courtier ushered her in. The room was mostly empty. The catlike infighting for the day court mostly over as evening neared.

“Announcing Giselle Grimfeathers, the intended of private Gerrard Griffenloft squire to Grand Huntsman Gardet Greenbreze, assigned to Grand Falconer Gina Goodfeathers on the most recent royal expedition across the Stampede Stream.”

The small number of people in the court paused and looked up at her. From across the small but elegant hall Giselle saw the king sitting.

The King himself was flushed, and choleric, ruddy and a bit past his prime dressed in white silks with a blue waistcoat. He motioned for her to come, and she bowed upon entering the room, and once halfway across the room and would do so again a final time in the king’s presence. She thanked her mother silently for the before now altogether useless deportment lessons she had been subjected to as a gosling.

Off to the side stood the Princess Royal Gale and Princess Gustia, eldest daughters of Gerald. They narrowed their eyes, appraising her appearance. The two were plain rather than beautiful, well-shaped with fair complexions and a tincture of the King’s countenance. The young sisters looked much alike. They were both dressed in lilac and silver silk with a silver netting upon the coat, and their heads were full of diamond pins.

Queen Gyges on the other hand was a true beauty. She sat on Gerald’s left in purple and silver. Some griffons held that in her youth she had been the most beautiful Griffon of all. Her fourteen children had been the envy of every griffon hen. The two that had died had been eight and ten, the second and third eldest toms. They had both passed on the same day. They had contracted Feather Flu, but some bad medicine had carried the children both off within hours of each other. The position of royal physician empty ever since. It was said they were trying for a fifteenth.

Gerald’s eldest the “golden prince” Gerald the IV was not present, and Giselle was grateful for that. He had been the son of Gerald’s first wife who had died when he was fourteen. The eldest son was rumored to be a cruel bird with a wicked tongue, a mean temper and a nasty beak always poking itself into trouble.

The two princesses and the queen were exchanging whispers and looking at Giselle’s dress. One of them even pointed at her.

As she reached the throne the green griffon Count George Starfield whom she had met in the Hall of Heroes stepped forward. She bowed the final time three paces from his majesty.

“Greetings and welcome Lady Giselle be at ease. Why have you come seeking an audience this evening? I have not seen my Huntsman Gardet in some time. Do you bring news of his whereabouts?”

“No, your majesty, that is why I’ve come. My fiancé went across the Stampede Stream as part of the Falconer's party and was in Gardet’s group that went west. They still have not returned. I have had no word from my fiancé or his sister Knight Corporal Gwendolyn, a scout in your majesty's Wing Guard who was dispatched five weeks ago in search of your huntsman, and her brother, my fiancé. I have had no news as to their fate which is why I come before you.”

“Your majesty” said Count Starfield “I have checked and there has been no word from the south regarding any of these, your majesty’s subjects or his gallant officer dispatched to track them.” He continued. “However, a second set of scouts encountered a foul residue amid a trackless devastation that stripped and ravaged the northwest coast twenty or more canters inland. The cause is the Greater Equestrian Everfree Parasprite, a triphibious swarming insect-fish omnivorous during its final lifecycle. The pest has not been seen since the Celestial Era. The area was NOT that way when the missing parties were dispatched.”

“The dangers of the south are largely unknown. Thus, why they were sent to begin with.” said the King. “What ill fortune.”

“My lady, please do not abandon hope. They may be simply unable to return yet. Gardet trains his people well, and I have faith that a Corporal in the Royal Wing Guard would not fall prey to a flying insect fish no matter how dangerous.”

Giselle nodded and tried to smile for the king.

“My family and I were about to retire to supper and would be delighted if you joined us?” There were more whispers. “If you don't, I'm sure the ladies of the court will never forgive me. They’re quite taken by your simple elegance.” The king stood, walked to her, and politely and gently guided her to a nearby dining hall.

Servants had set the table and a meal was prepared. They began to eat informally, and Giselle found herself relaxing slightly. The princesses complimented her on her dress, inquired as to the designer, and were delighted to find they had heard of the fashionista Giorgio before. As they had just begun to sit, a courier came to the hall and whispered to the esquire and king in hushed tones. The king rose.

“Giselle, I fear that for us, dinner must be interrupted. Envoys have arrived with no notice and have brought at least your Gerrard and my Corporal with them! They are at the Hospital across the common for some reason. I must hasten hither. These envoys, whomever they are, simply cannot fit within our halls!”

Giselle was so overjoyed, that the trip from the dining hall to the nearby hospital was a quick blur. When she arrived, she saw a crowd of onlookers.

Griffons crisscrossed overhead and clustered on rooftops to see the strange sight of three enormous colorful scaled beings flying and floating in the air as if it was water. They resembled a serpent or a seahorse but with pretty scales and had hooves like a land creature but tails and fins like fish.

The flying creatures were flitting and hovering above the entrance to the hospital, and a pair of griffons were speaking to several dozen guards who were mostly focused on keeping the crowd back rather than on the strange sight. One of the griffons was Gerrard! The other was Gwendolyn!

The beasts were just hovering, talking, and apparently joking and laughing with one another. As the king approached, the three enormous creatures broke out into a short song. Some dazed medical griffons flew back into the hospital.

Giselle could not remember the words of the song, but the babbling and joyful reunion and the warm embraces of Gerrard and Gwendolyn made the haunting tune an experience she would never forget. Apart from a bandaged paw he seemed unhurt.

Knight Corporal Gwendolyn approached the king and said a few words quietly.

47. Crunch Time

“Luna merely hoped for a sweet dreamless oblivion. Well, that’s not much of a comfort. Maybe it will be something better. I asked Discord and he only chuckled. But Celestia held that there will be a cleansing of some kind and a period of atonement and then we move on to better things.” – T. Sparkle, Views of the Immortals on the Afterlife

— “Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

47. Crunch Time

The well-dressed king approached the flying sirens boldly with a smile. “Hello. Thank you for coming. Your majesties, the um Dazzlings, the Queens of Pop as Knight Corporal Gwendolyn says. It is a pleasure to greet adventurous fellow royalty. I am King Gerald.

“‘King’ Gerald, so like the hound dog guy. It's nice to meet you '' the light blue Sonata giggled. “I hope we get to meet the rest of your band. But yes, that's us, we are the Dazzlings, the best singers in all of Equestria.”

“In all the world,” said Adagio.

“Well probably”, said Aria.

“You have my thanks. Your journey here has returned two of my missing griffons to me, and a strange third?”

“Our fan, yes. We brought them back ourselves. The little griffons weren’t quick enough to save her, and she’s hurt.” Sonata explained.

“They are treating her right now.” said Aria, “uh, we made sure.”

Sonata pointed to her companions. “The purple one is Aria Blaze, I'm Sonata Dusk. The yellow one here is Adagio Dazzle, she’s in charge, we’re her bandmates.

Aria said “We came as quickly as we could. We were afraid that if we didn't get help, our fan might die.”

“Your fan?” asked the king.

“Yea, she’s this little green dragon hatchling. She got hurt, um down south…. in what this one”, she indicated by pointing a hoof at Gerrard “said was an accident.”

“My word, and you’ve flown all that way?” asked the king.

“Eh, more like three quarters of the way,'' said Aria. “We’d have gotten here sooner, but we were afraid to go too fast.”

“We’re fast,” said Sonata. “Took us what Adagio, three, four hours?”

“As if, three hours tops. We didn’t pick them up until after lunch, remember those seals?”

“Mmm, crunchy, crunchy seals.” said Sonata. “I love seafood.”

“You love anything crunchy,'' said Aria.

“Well, you must be exhausted. We were just sitting down to supper. Could we have you join us over there on the front lawn? We would love to offer you a glass of wine or coffee or anything really, and we must say that we are looking forward to having a chat so we can get to know each other a bit better.”

“He says ‘we’ a lot. I only see him. Is there a small or invisible griffon I’m missing?” Sonata whispered loudly to Aria. “I don’t smell anyone else.”

“That's the royal we idiot,” said Adagio, “He means himself and Griffonstone, okay? He’s speaking for everyone.”

“You do that a lot too,” said Aria. … Adagio gave her a death glare.

“Indeed. You are such wonderful creatures to have gone to all this trouble. The kingdom owes you a debt of gratitude. Let us at least offer you a nice meal and a rest. I assure you whatever you desire, the royal kitchen can make it.”

The king began to lead the three sirens to his palace.

“Now bandmates - that is a form of vassalage I am not familiar with. But if you are all queens it must work for you.”

“Can they make fish tacos?” asked Sonata hopefully.

“I'm sure if you explain what it is, they can,” said the king.

Sonata wiggled from snout to tail in the air and squeed. Aria laughed and Adagio rolled her eyes.

“So, yea, bandmates.” said Aria. “Well, like Sonata said, Adagio is in charge, but we all work together to solve our problems and we all make suggestions and argue about it, but Adagio always decides, like where we’re going and where we’ll sing next.”

“Yes, you mentioned you were singers, do you sing for everyone?”

Adagio smiled and boasted “Oh yea, we've sung on tour, in Canterlot, band competitions, the Everfree, the Starswirled Music Festival, cafes, villages, cities, big crowds, small crowds, you name it. We’ve been together since forever. We’re famous in two worlds, you know.”

“Really, my word. I’m afraid I don’t know where Pop is, said the king.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll show it to you,'' said Aria.

“It’s always been in our hearts.” said Sonata.

Adagio and Aria stopped. Adagio looked at Aria, and the two looked at Sonata together and smiled. “That's the smartest and most poetic thing you've ever said Sonata. I’m going to write a song about it.”

Sonata smiled. Adagio took her hoof and smiled. “Let's go get those tacos.”

48. Starting Position

“What do you believe Twilight?

“That the universe is wonderful and complicated, and unknown. I refuse to believe in a universe where harmony fails. If I did, my friends and I would’ve given up a hundred times before now.” – T. Sparkle, on Immortals and The Afterlife

— “Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

48. Starting Position

Risk Taker was in the van. He was fast, lanky and had good endurance. If he paced himself, he could run 5 canters with a heavy rucksack in a bit over an hour. But they were aiming for 50 to 60 canters in a day. 15 minutes a canter. The daylight was not 15 hours long. At this time of year, it was closer to 12.

The locusts had begun to hatch. The noise and feel of them jumping and bumping into everyone were unpleasant, but Risk Taker, the Zebras, and the other Minotaurs in the van left them behind by the end of the first day.

Risk Taker was far in the lead. He had a basket of bright white flags. He would mark boulders and large stones the scrapers needed moved. Periodically he checked the plastic charm, but it never ‘glowed’ as it was supposed to, and he soon forgot about it.

That first day he was paired with two zebra mares Danai and Anatsa. They were young and had both been caravanner mares, so they had good endurance. During their shift they would each pull an equine drawn scraper. Dana was mute but could sign. Anatsa, her sister, could interpret for her. As two of only a few equines with real long-distance experience, they were placed in the lead with the Lieutenant.

The scraper’s purpose was to scrape and level a path for the others to follow, flattening the land enough for the rickshaws and discharging dirt at a uniform depth. In a half canter, they would switch off with another team, catch their breath, eat, drink, and then walk along the newly flattened road to a team farther on, and spell them in turn.

This work would continue around the clock for the 3 teams of eight, moving the 2 scrapers an hour at a time. 48 zebra mares and stallions were dedicated to doing only that in three 8-hour shifts. The next day they would not scrape but merely walk the entire distance to the new van and begin the work anew.

But for now, Danai and Anatsa ran with just water and food and dropped it off every half canter. The load got lighter and lighter until they were done and then they themselves could rest until it was their turn for the scraper.

Risk Taker had no such luck, and had to continue, until he ran out of flags. The last one was the red moon crescent flag of Istanbul. It marked the end of the day, and in the first ten days he did not run out of flags before he ran out of daylight.

He had another important job, Risk Taker had to whistle when the hour was up. The hourglass he carried in a bandoleer had to be turned just at noon. So, he carried a sextant to check it. He counted his paces as well. When he reached a half canter, he signaled to the mares to drop food and water and checked the hourglass. At night he would hoof the responsibility to another, but every morning it went back over his shoulder.

If they found a good fresh stream, in the latter half of the day, they would set off a smoking flare that might be repeated by those behind them. Then everyone in the van could drink and then dump most of their water knowing it would lighten the load till they got to the stream and there they could refill their water.

Far ahead of the working scraper team would be the engineer teams. They would pull the marked rocks and boulders aside so the scraper mares would not hit any obstructions. Not every rock was marked. Smaller ones were just grabbed and heaved aside.

Teams of two to ten would grab the larger obstructions and lever them off the path with large staves. Each day they would scrape 2 canters in half canter increments while walking 50 to 60 the next day carrying nothing to catch up to the new van, then sleep and work again at scraping. One day off, one day on.

When Danai and Anatsa caught up to him the first evening Risky was fast asleep having pitched a tent they could all share. The zebras collapsed, unused to this special form of labor. They had to each get help with their last half canter and their plight was hardly unique.

The land was flat grassland and not at all wooded. There weren't even many rocks. The first day they moved only a few dozen small boulders, but only made two dozen canters. The baggage train took time to sort out. The next day saw more than double that. Diligent work under light of a waning moon the third day saw them complete the first hundred canters.

Captain Syrup, their nominal supervisor said nothing, but Risk Taker and Marshal noted their superior seemed very hoof sore when he straggled in. Two of Major Pane’s staff sergeants had impressed several of the enlisted soldiers into carrying the captain’s gear, and despite his apparent hangover they caroused together late into the night, only knocking off when the Major himself complained of the ruckus.

Only one day behind, when he arrived General Chop Chop was very pleased, and made sure his troops and the baggage train were aware of his pride in their good early start. That morning Marshal led the van, and they made nearly Forty canters.

Risk Taker resolved to beat that, and he and the other Lieutenants turned it into a bit of a competition to see who could trailblaze the most ground on the road to Canterlot.

49. Key Point

“Negotiate? Maybe we could have negotiated.”
“But that was 40 billion creatures ago.”
“Goodbye Abraxas.”

—T. Sparkle, last words to the Nightmare King as reported by S. Armor

49. Key Point

It was late on the third day that the envoys caught up. Prince Harabi of Saddle Arabia, the kirin mare Green Leaves of Remore and the learned zebra mare Penda of Zebrenica although authorized by King Iron Hoof had not been brought into the expedition planning, nor had Chop-Chop made provisions for their inclusion, so they had had to make their own arrangements for transportation. An honor guard of nine Saddle Arabians had accompanied the prince, and they carried rucksacks, scimitars and had hauled two small carts up the new length-wide path. The zebra had come alone as had the kirin. It had been a laughably uncomfortable trip as neither spoke much Farsai and neither did Harabi or his countrymen speak Poni.

Their arrival had been ignored by Chop-Chop who merely grunted when told they had arrived. A handful of minotaurs knew enough Farsai to be more confusing than useful, and it was not till the evening of the fourth day when the problem was casually mentioned by Risky to Anatsa and Danai, his sturdy Zebra haulers that a solution was found.

Anatsa explained that the Arabian Sign Language of ears and hooves that Danai had learned had been taught to their family by a Saddle Arabian merchant. As a young filly Anatsa had accompanied many of her family from High Lake to Istanbull and on to Aashtethos every year with this merchant on various occasions. She had consequently learned Farsai. Danai had unfortunately not learned much Farsai but could translate from ASL to Poni.

Prince Harabi was overjoyed to learn of some creature who could better understand himself and his fellow saddle arabians, and had his team assist the zebra scrapers with their work and showered them with kindness. As for the other observers, Penda and Green Leaves were swept up in Harabi’s wake and became de-facto messengers and envoys smoothing ruffled feathers and giving the entire expedition a more international feel than was really the case. But the presence of the 10 Saddle Arabians, the kirin and the zebra leader in the front of the expedition made it feel like it had a stamp of international cooperation.

The dates, figs, and dried fruit the carts contained gave the Saddle Arabians some delicious leverage that made them quite popular despite the language barriers.

As Lieutenant Marshal set out on the fourth day the locusts began to catch back up. Once more the expedition left them behind. The pests were not seen for two more nights.

As the sixth day wound down, the expedition looked for a place to make camp as the evening of the sixth night approached, indeed they had already begun to spread out to do so when Risk Taker caught up to Lieutenant Marshal. The scrapers and lead had stopped in the foothills of the mountains, one of which reached down nearly across their path. Leading up to a cliff face were strange ruins. Encountered at the end of the day and seeing no reason to continue farther Lt. Marshal had called a halt.

Smashed blocks of stone and twisted rusting meal jutted here and there from the landscape, overgrown and half buried in the sand and dirt. No large plants grew in this stretch of dirt. The lumps of rust and what seemed to be ancient machinery led in a straight line between two long embankments across their path. Rows of rusty lumps were spaced a few dozen feet apart for as far as the eye could see, leading to a hill and a cliffside where what might have once been a gigantic cave was covered in rubble and debris. What the structures or debris had been was unknowable. They considered making camp here after they found an easy place to cross the jumbled wreckage in the morning.

It was then, when walking around a particularly large rusting hulk that Risk Taker first noticed his pendant glowing.

It illuminated the shirt he wore with a bright green. Risk Taker ordered the van to proceed further into the growing darkness. Rather than take any chances Lieutenant Marshal who was in charge that night, showed just what a good sort he was and worked with Risk Taker to move the camp a half canter further on. Fortunately, this area was completely flat and bare, so shifting proved no difficulty.

Grumbling they did so, a few hundred feet farther on, the pendant finally stopped glowing, and so they made camp. Walking back along the trail with the pendant Risk Taker noted that it again began glowing a bright green, but just a little farther on it stopped. He sent word back to the column to hurry through the strange debris, and though the minotaurs laughed at him and his tale of unquiet spirits and star touched zebras, the striped haulers and their kirin fellows hurried through the area.

Returning to camp that evening, Risk Taker began to feel itchy, and his skin was somewhat irritated. He bathed vigorously in a nearby stream, but the next day his skin had turned red, and he began to shed some of his back and chest hair, and even his trim beard.

Risky reported his strange skin irritation to Captain Syrup, who ordered him to avoid contact with the others, and to keep a good distance, which he did, but in a few days the symptoms vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared, and besides a small blistering on the back of his right hand that took longer to resolve, he had no other ill effects.

A few days later and the incident was all but forgotten.

—-

The farther they were from the river the faster they seemed to go. The grasslands were dry, but not too dry, and the small streams they encountered often were easily crossed with minimal work. In a week they traveled 340 canters.

Now, as they went through that empty country Danai and Anatsa chatted with Risk Taker about his homeland and their own journeys. They had never spoken to a minotaur before, and each had many questions, as did Risky. The elder of the two Dani was escaping a marriage she did not want. Her betrothed did not speak ASL and she was reluctant to marry some she could not speak to. As for her sister, Anatsa wanted a dowry and to get married but was the youngest of five. For himself, Risk Taker said he wanted adventure. He neglected to mention the gambling hall debts accumulated at the card tables of Istanbull that had made the journey seem appealing.

As the days went by and their bodies became used to the exercise, they began to fall into an exhausting routine that left them tired and hungry at the end of each day.

A rucksack can only hold so much food, foraging takes time and there was going to be no resupply. So, the keys to success were the remaining 52 zebras and two dozen kirin. They could carry enough food to feed themselves and two others all the way to Canterlot but only could move thirty canters a day hauling a rickshaw laden with one and a half times their weight. The bulls could barely manage half of that. But by switching off frequently and switching up walking and trotting they all maintained a pace of nearly 60 canters a day. Fortunately, the land was a bountiful prairie and there was grassland everywhere along the route.

They had calculated enough grain for the quadrupeds and figured on gathering twice that amount of forage. Danai and Anatsa were stuffed with calories from grain and hay. They ate from sunup to sundown, and both began to pack on muscle. As he recovered from his strange zebra star illness the already fit Risk Taker grew even fitter. Danai and Anatsa learned he was a passable cook, and he would make meals using herbs he found along the way, of which there were many wild mustards, spicy sedges and even a cinnamon tree. It made the thick grain they were forced to eat by necessity easier to chew. His friend Lieutenant Marshal also proved good company and the two taught the zebras a variety of card games.

It was at this point that the high value of the kirin became known. The draconic ponies made the camp virtually hum with order and purpose. Creatures of harmony, each kirin sought to do some of the many things needed to keep the march in good order. Things were accomplished each night that otherwise would have necessitated delays, and indeed the kirin marched ahead and scouted better routes for the morning, their excellent night sight found the starlit dark no problem for quiet talks and nighttime exploration. A certain amount of romance may have been involved.

Like minotaurs, the kirin were omnivorous, though they favored fruit. They were good at fishing with their natural equipment. The small streams they found yielded some small fish, crawfish, frogs, and salamanders but little else. The deficiencies of the expeditions diet had to be made up with forage.

Each of the minotaurs had only a single personal tool. A curved scythe, a sword, shovel, or spear. For gathering hay, they used the scythes. The grass was high, but green and dry. Foraging was swift. Minotaurs could not eat forage as efficiently as the equines, their stomachs were just not large enough, but they ate what hay they could. Many of the zebras were farmers and put the bulls to shame, mowing down fields far faster than most of them could swing the implements, each morning the company decimated the land mowing sufficient forage in less than an hour before moving on for the day.

The camps of the scrapers and the main camp were rude affairs. Tents in the middle of nothing, with the rickshaws drawn up, and stakes or spears in a ditch in front of hills made by excavating the ditch. Chop-Chop was an old campaigner and he refused to let the apparent emptiness of the land cause laxity.

Chop Chop’s foresight and insistence on discipline and preparation were exhausting, but none of the troops complained. They saw the famous general doing the same work the troopers were doing, eating the same food, and even digging and laying stakes. It was a habit of a long lifetime of vigorous campaigning.

50. Up And At Them

“The fire of friendship burns in our hearts.”

—Mi Amore Cadenza to her daughter

50. Up and At Them

Cloud, light, wind, dark, swirling with ice in circles and circles, cold wind singing softly then louder and louder, from clouds and night, day and pale sunlight, snowflakes, made of sparkling frozen dust and with blue hailstones for eyes they hungered and wanted and needed and wandered through the trackless white waste. Flying through the sky the spirits of emptiness and silence, were questing, and seeking… something, anything to feel, and to freeze. Growing from the breezes between the snowflakes they thundered through the skies, icy hued, utterly incorporeal, and deathless, everlasting, and immortal. Spirits born from despair, like sought like and they gathered in ones and twos then dozens, then herds. The sound of winter thunder filled the air, and the snowflakes grew larger and more complex.

Hooves and whinnies pounded through bare streets. They swirled through the spires and up and down the paths long denied them. They stalked into every vacant door and window. Through every chimney, past every nook and cranny swirling and swirling in concentric circles growing larger as they gathered in, hoof-fulls then dozens, then a legion. They turned and burned with an icy cold, cleansing purifying crystalizing and constructing triple vortex with their bodies. They slowed and gathered in ordered ranks three deep and a hundred across, walking in opposing concentric circles around the focus of a crack in the crystal, a break in the mirror, a smashed and icy mound of frozen snow, the final barrow marker of a vanished empire.

Flurry stirred.

The astral ream surrounded her. A colorless haze beyond reality. The white snows of her ancestral home paralleled her and surrounded her. Flurry Heart was here, Flurry Heart was there. Balanced on the cusp of immortality. She could choose death and abandon this world. See her mother, see her father, see her soul sister, her loved ones and her betrothed. Run in the green realms of the hereafter. She could walk with her sisters’ sons in the realms of the unliving…

Or she could stay here, in this frozen wasteland of death. Her mother was dead, dead, dead, her betrothed was dead, dead, dead. Skyla, her soul sister was dead, dead, dead, and her sisters’ sons, twins, those two beautiful colts dead and dead. She wailed inwardly, emotionally unmoored. Her people, her people, had she saved her people? No. She could hear the silence. She could _feel_ the silence. They might be somewhere, but they were not here. With a sense of growing horror, she knew she had in fact cut herself off from all the friends and family she had ever known. She had missed with her final stroke.

Nothing was here. Well not nothing. The Nothing. The shadow on the future, they watcher on the wall. The betrayer servant of the nightmare king and the author of her sorrow. IT was there. In the real world. She could sense it clearly. Far away south and west, half a world away.

It was free to hurt and kill and maim for all eternity, never to pass beyond to a final rest.

She was her mother’s daughter. Her body was broken beyond repair. Her mother had cared for her realm and her people above all else. Had fought and died beside her kin to kelp the realms safe. And now she was the last scion of the Crystal Empire. She had been a full alicorn in the prime of her life, had been unlike her mother, had been born into her magic. She had been struck down at the apex of her own disjunction spell and cast here across time. She could use that, use the distance and perspective to force open a crack back into the real world. She had trained at the hooves of the princess of Magic in all the branches of magic, but this was a darker magic.

The Crystal Empire and its people were all her mother had cared for, and she had passed that care to her daughter. As the last of her line. She knew the spells of Tambelon, and the necromancy salvaged from the Empire of the dead. She knew Sombras crystal magic had built upon that inheritance. Her friends and her family were all dead. She could use that too. She knew death was not the end no matter which path she chose. She would not give in to despair.

She would wield it as a weapon. Shadowing her here in the realm between reality and the beyond were the herds of despair. She could sense them galloping through the empty streets of her capitol. She lashed them to her will, aligned her spirit to the axis of the crystals laid out before her… and breathed in ice.

Her dead horn glowed. She began to draw on the power of her empire. The crystal buildings drained of their color, turning from blue to grey to white to clear as if they were made of simple ice. The true-blue crystal heart itself became lighter and clearer as did the palace, starting at the bottom nearest her icy barrow. The clarity began to gradually climb higher and higher up the spires and buttresses as the snow fell more heavily. Soon the entire empire shone like a pure white diamond.

Still the wendigos circled. A single clear wind spirit strode from the herd. This was larger than the others. Older, leaner, wilder. It stepped between the circles of the spirit equines and walked with a perfectly timed stride.

There was no need to seek a soul jar or a focus. She already lay at the center of power. Already ascended. Already dead. Already she had made a sacrifice for the spell. The magic cost her nothing but herself. Twilight would have approved. No dark necromancy this, but pure magic of her soul.

The empty essence of winter walked up the stairs to the flat balcony of the crystal palace, hooves barely clicking on the clear crystal. Spirit legs strode through the snow and ice as if it were water, sinking into the powder like a ghost sinking into that snowy hill.

There was silence. The wendigos had stopped their pacing and turned towards the balcony.

There was a swirl of ice and dust snow and powder. It encompassed the whole mound. A horn as clear as any icicle lifted from in the snow. Her breath was cold, her eyes an icy blue, her mane was crystal too. The queen of ice reborn Regina Glacies stepped from her snowy barrow. Spread wings fantastically long were white as snow and everywhere that Flurry went the ice was sure to go.

Wendigos bowed before her. She walked through them without a word. The wind picked up. They took flight as she passed, crossing overhead in aimless circles, passing through solid snow and ice, crystal, and rock, as the sun of dawn peaked over the horizon powerless to warm the day.

There was so much to do. But she had all the time in the rest of her un-life to do it in.

51. A Military Purpose

“Oh, I know you’re in a hurry to grow up, but there isn’t time.”

“I could make time.”

“I’ve been down that road twice before pumpkin, and your aunt Twilight dozens of times. There are no shortcuts.”

“Sometimes you just must wait for the future to arrive.”

—Mi Amore Cadenza to her daughter

51. A Military Purpose

On the evening of the 14th day, returning to camp, the Lieutenant went to report to Captain Syrup, his superior. Two of Major Pane’s staff sergeants stood outside the captain’s tent. There were sounds of a fight and flesh being struck and sobbing coming from within the tent.

“I have a report for the captain,” said Risk Taker.

“He’s busy,” said one of the enlisted men.

“Is he engaged in a military purpose?” asked the Lieutenant, narrowing his eyes as the crying from within the tent continued.

“Uh, no” said one of the enlisted soldiers.

“Stand aside, and report back to your units or I'll have you clapped in irons for impeding lawful orders.”

The bulls looked at each other.

“Now” the lieutenant said.

They turned and jogged away. Drawing his blade, the lieutenant drew the flap aside and entered the tent.

The captain had a private in a chokehold.

Both bulls were naked but the smaller one, a scrawny private by the look of him, had a bloody lip and a dazed look.

“Sir!” Shouted Risk Taker, “Lieutenant Risk Taker here to report on today’s progress.”

The captain looked up. He threw the young bull off to the side.

“Risk Taker get out, I’m busy here.”

“It does not appear that you are engaged in a matter of military business and official business always takes precedence. Are you engaged in a military matter?”

“No”.

Risk taker looked at the private. “Return to your unit soldier.” The dazed bull stumbled out.

“You’ve just made an enemy Lieutenant,'' snarled the captain.

“Very good sir.” He paused, “This evening's work is complete. We are dug in, and I will be turning the watch over to Lieutenant Marshal.”

“No Lieutenant, for ruining my fun, I’m going to have you pull a double shift. Marshal is off tonight.” Turning the Captain observed the Lieutenant’s naked but lowered steel for the first time.

Risk Taker calmly replied. “No sir, punishing or oppressing a soldier for performing his duty is counter to regulations. I may in fact have been in the process of arresting you for apparently failing to perform yours. It would be a shame if you resisted arrest and became injured. Shall we take this to the Major and see what he thinks? Or would you like to perhaps reflect for the rest of the evening off to consider why fraternization with the lower ranks is a military offense?”

“Dismissed Risk Taker. Steer clear of me Lieutenant.”

“Very good sir. Have a pleasant evening.” He turned and walked outside, sheathing his weapon. There was no sign of the private or the sergeants.

Risk Taker seethed with anger and adrenaline for minutes after that brief conversation. Passing the hourglass to Marshal with a brief and quiet conversation he retired to his tent.

Risk Taker’s father was a legal advocate. He knew this… situation could end badly for him. He ruminated for a time, and then wrote out two identical statements, gave a copy to the Marshal, and had him watch as he placed a second copy on the major’s desk and turned in.

Sleep didn’t come easily for him that evening.

52. Nightmares

“They have no empathy. They feel no guilt from killing, rather they feel powerful. They only feel fear when they have lost control.”

—George Partridge, Sociopathic Behavior in Griffons: Nine Cases

52. Nightmares

Gerald IV tossed and turned in his sleep in his dim room. The prince never slept well these days.

The head of the physician stated at him from the floor in his dreams accusingly. The two boys were often there too, watching through windows or open doors with bloody beaks in his dreams. It had been worse and was growing worse still. He often dreamt of the king, his father becoming cold and distant. Withdrawing from his eldest son, doting on his daughters.

The prince had been only 5 years younger than the King’s new bride Gyges. She was much younger than the King. Queen Gyges was beautiful. Very beautiful, and quite fecund. The prince remembered his quiet mother’s soft gold feathers, love, and warmth. The King made him so angry. His father had remarried with a year. Everyone agreed Gyges was young and pretty, someone the king had married for love, not power. It made him so angry. So very angry. How could his father rut her and keep her producing more and more of her ugly offspring?

He himself was attracted to his stepmother. That made everything so much worse somehow. He felt so unnatural. So angry, all the time, at everything. Was it any wonder he’d tried to hurt her?

He dreamed of his brothers again. He’d been twenty-one, his half-brothers eight and ten. He dreamt of the two boys, turning blue. He stared at them with a very interested look from behind a wooden screen as they struggled. They were trying to draw breath. They were so scared. So stiff. He found it fascinating. The way their bodies were jerking and spasming. Feverish. Screams high and growing shriller as they struggled to breathe. Arousing. He could see the two brother’s dark urine staining each of their sheets. First one died then the other. The physician running from room to room, trying all sorts of things. The rage of the king.

And then a bloody dawn. They dropped the doctor with his wings bound and too long a rope. Not quite so interesting, but the way the head had popped off had been hilarious. The prince had struggled not to laugh.

It wasn’t as funny now.

He had fantasized about seeing the heads pop off everyone who annoyed him. Or making them go away in other interesting ways. He’d been enrolled at the Pinnacle academy, but after that incident he had remained there in unofficial exile, just never invited to spend any time with Gyges or his father, but Griffonstone was a small place. Gyges and the king were unavoidable. His half-sisters too. Somedays it was all he could think about.

“He knows,” said a voice. A powerful dark black griffon walked from the shadow of his castle bedroom. It looked so real.

“Who knows? What? Who?” yelled Gerald suddenly standing without rising from his bed, grey claws reaching for the wall, or a nightstand, a support, anything. The griffon loomed above him. Black eyes, not even a hint of white stared down at him. Perspective was strange as it often was in dreams.

“The king knows. You murdered his sons! Your brothers!”

“He killed the doctor! He blames the doctor. At most he only suspects!” Gerald screamed up at the Black Griffon.

It looked down at him piteously. “He killed the doctor in your place. To try and teach you responsibility and empathy. To spare you. To limit the tragedy, and out of love for his dead first wife.”

“He knows nothing. There is no proof!” Gerald yelled, shaking his grey talons at the giant.

The Black Griffon smiled. “He knows. I showed him.”

“WHAT? WHO?”

“I showed him your dreams. I’ve been showing him. I’ve been showing him more and more. He knows what you are... and still… he still loves you. Fool.” The Black Griffon continued to smile, seeming to draw closer, to come nearer. They were the same size, the distance shrinking becoming more intimate, becoming close enough to feel its breath stirring the feathers of his wings. “He’ll still love you even when he orders you to be killed,” it whispered breathily into his ear. It became close and then closer to Gerald, invading his personal space, head right next to his, black eye staring into gold eye.

“You could be king” it whispered to him. His ear tufts twitched at its breath.

It whispered again “If I don’t have you killed first.”

Gerald backed away.

“WHY?‽!”

“You have what I need. Power, authority, force, ruthlessness. You’re not afraid to do the right thing. To take power for yourself. To crush those who stand in your way. To kill to get what you want. What you need. You could be great. I can help you. But I need to motivate you. You need to act. The time has come for you to eliminate your rivals for the throne. To destroy them. To seize the future and secure you place in Griffonstone. To become the great emperor griffons… need. To usher in a legacy that will last a thousand years.”

“Why would I listen to you?”

“You are not the only Griffon I can use. You are just the easiest. You have rivals. Enemies. I can point them out. I can see their dreams. I can deliver them into your claws and paws. You can have everything you ever dreamed of. Do everything you ever thought of. I can show you how. I just need a few small favors from you. Trivialities really. Small obstacles that are standing in your way too, even if you do not see them. Help me eliminate them, and I can give you power no griffon has ever had.

“If I refuse?”

“I will share the dreams you have with your stepmother. Do you think she’ll be as slow to act as your father? Do you think she will hold back when I show her you poisoning the medicine bottles? Fantasizing about doing that to her other children. Doing that to her husband? Making her watch… Doing that to her? Doing… other things to her…”

“What are you?”

“I am your future. Embrace me. Swear yourself to me. Or die by her claws.”

He was scared, so scared. “I, I need, I need to think.” He was trapped.

“Let me think on it.”

“Fine Prince Gerald. You think on it. It’s midnight. You have three days. If you haven’t joined me by then, I’ll find a better tool.”

“What must I do?”

“All you have to do to swear yourself to me is say four simple words: My life for you.”

Gerald awoke in a cold sweat, wet and tangled in damp bedding. He had peed himself.
He stumbled out of bed in the dark room that smelled of fear and old blood.

Clouds covered the sky of the one small window to his room. His room was pitch black.

He stumbled about and struck a match and lit a lamp. His gold pocket clock sat next to the lamp. He checked it. Midnight. The chimes of the castle began to play followed by twelve loud ringing tones. He was still awake when dawn came, and the tones had grown one by one to seven and beyond.

He did not fall asleep the next night either.

53. Pests

“The gate to Equestria is fully open now. They’re coming.”

—T. Sparkle on the eve of battle

53. Pests

Latrines were dug, shoes were mended and in camp they could eat, sleep, drink and take care of all the other necessary things.

The endurance of the equines seemed endless. They slept less than 7 hours, but the kirin slept even less, only needing about 3 hours a night. They were constantly busy repairing things, repacking, and generally keeping themselves busy. Angry nirik were few and far between.

On the dawn of the 16th day the gnats came. They were horrible. They flew into eyes, ears, up noses, clustered around every orifice and were devilishly annoying. Fortunately, once the 6 small ponds where they were apparently breeding in had been passed, they died down to a merely horrible annoyance. Everyone slept poorly that night.

The following day the locusts were back. But that was not the problem. Unlike the last time they didn’t hang around - they just flew through the camp as fast as her little locust wings could take them. Before long they were gone.

There was a sound of something like thunder. A jackalope ran through the camp. Then another, then a few more, then hundreds, then thousands. They passed around the edges of the camp berm. A few were slain, but they were numberless. Their sharp horns sliced anyone too slow to move aside. Soon the entire camp was huddled behind the ditches, or in the case of those outside the camp, in rickshaws or standing on rocks. In fifteen minutes, herd thinned to a few hundred, then a few dozen, then none. A few of the zebras, kirin and minotaurs had nasty cuts. The medics began to bind up the wounded.

What was left where their reverse trail led was a brown cloud, a strange cloud on the far horizon and that cloud was heading deceptively slowly straight towards the Ground Pounder encampment. No, the problem was not the locusts or the jackalopes. The dust storm was.

Prepared to take the van, and ready to head out, Risk Taker had huddled behind Danai and Anatsa’s scrapers from the jackalopes with them, and he hurried to the command tent. The zebras mares followed. The Saddle Arabians were also there along with the big kirin Green Leaves and the small zebra observer Penda.

Prince Harabi was shouting in Farsai “Everyone listen to me! You must cover your face with a damp cloth! Everyone, everyone, listen to me! Do it now, cover your faces and breathe through a damp cloth. You should find a safe place, out of the wind and close your eyes!”

Unfortunately, no one could understand him. No one except for Danai. Danai signed rapidly to Anatsa who was not looking. Danai hoof smacked her sister to get her attention and began signing rapidly.

Chop-Chop shouted, “Are the beasts gone? What is that cloud? What is this lunatic screaming about?” The other officers were entering the tent asking for direction. Marshal was not among them.

Danai shouted at Risk Taker “Bwana Taker, Danai says it is a storm of dust. Horse lord says we need to take cover and breathe through wet clothes, or we could get sick and die.”

Risk Taker looked at her, nodded and tried to shove through the other officers.

Captain Syrup got in his way. Blocking the lieutenant, the minotaur backhanded him across the face. “You are a disgrace to your uniform. Return to your post and stay out of my sight.”

Shoving the captain aside, Risk Taker shouted at the General. “We are in danger!! We must take cover and breathe through wet cloths, if we do not, the dust could kill us! Listen to me!” The captain’s two sergeants grabbed him by the shoulders and clubbed him over the head. He was dazed and dragged away. Darkness came, his last perceptions were shouting and panic, as blackness engulfed him.

A few minutes later the storm hit.

54. Magnesium Flare

“What do I think Twilight? Not a better place beyond the Aetheric plane. But, if a spiritual hyperreality existed, a Tartarus of the spirit, to punish the wicked? That would be nice.” – S. Glimmer, reply to T. Sparkle

— “Reflections”, Autobiography by Starlight Glimmer

54. Magnesium Flare

The kirin and zebra were alone in the enclosed courtyard of an old, repurposed hotel near the palace at dawn. The zebra doctor was working with Professor Bullpen in the tennis court of the Bullring Hotel. The lobby had been converted into a hanger where a large airship was under construction. Professor Bullpen himself was already quietly working inside the hanger.

Red Leaf was angry. Very angry.

“YOU!”

Now Red Leaf was on fire. The Zebra Dr. Sakai Nyarai just stared, taking in the burning flames of the Nirik.

“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD” Red Leaf bellowed. The asphalt around his feat had melted.

The doctor took a step back from the intense magical heat. “My family thinks I am. My countrymen too.”

“I WAS IN THE WATER FOR FOURTEEN HOURS!” shouted the kirin turned nirik.

Dr. Nyarai had to take another step back from the blazing creature. “Please Red Leaf, I am very sorry my friend. I was being used.”

“BY WHO OR WHAT?”

“I do not know. Something on the ship. Some… evil force took control of me. It made me start the fire. The bull in the red fez with the green tassel said I was not the only one.”

“IRON HOOF?”

“I don’t know who he was, I never met him before.”

“YOU ARE LYING”

“I am not. Why else am I still alive? I am so sorry Red Leaf. The marines had me, I thought I was going to die. That I deserved to die. I am trying to make amends.”

The nirik diplomat stood there burning for a moment longer. Then the fire went out. “How are you still alive? What happened?”

I think the bull in the fez with the green tassel spared me, some others. They took me from the soldiers. They told my government I was dead.

With a sigh, Sakai began to talk. Red Leaf was at first unconvinced by the doctor’s explanation, but eventually accepted the Zebra’s apology. They agreed to meet again in a few days. They ate lunch together and then Red Leaf departed.

—

“So how did that go?” asked Professor Bullpen. The rotund professor waddled towards his contraption.

Sakai sighed. “It could have gone better.”

“How hot do they get when they get like that?”

“You know, I do not know. Hot enough to melt asphalt. Its magic, so who knows? I don’t think anyone has done any tests.”

“Hot enough to burn your silk?”

“Oh yes definitely. Hot enough to melt jewelry. Red Leaf told me the ambassadress Fern Flare she, melted her gold necklace and burned her entire dress, right in the hall to the King’s throne room.” The rotund professor wandered away to check on the aluminum struts.

The internal baby-balloon idea and the sintering for making aluminum strips for the keel was working out well. If they could just get the power source to turn the blades, Ferdinand was sure it would fly.

Dr. Nyarai finished coating the fabric with his solution of sodium borate and boric acid. The dried silk swatches were withstanding all the direct flame tests so far.

The hot steam baths were not helping cool tempers.

Ferdinand’s turbine was not the problem. An old equestrian design of nickel and steel, it was just barely within the manufacturing capabilities of Istanbull. Bullpen had been working on it off and on for close to twenty years. The problem was the steam source. Recapturing the feed steam meant that frequent refilling of the boiler wasn’t an issue. It hadn’t been ready for the manatee, but it was ready now. The issue was just boiling water.

Coal was just too heavy.

“Hey Sakai. I had a thought,” said Ferdinand turning to the zebra alchemist. “What if we didn’t burn the fuel?”

“What?”

“I mean maybe there is an energetic reaction we could do that we could reverse. We could run the boiler for a while. Reverse the reaction on the ground, where there is more fuel then do the reaction in the air again. Something maybe we only need heat for?”

Dr. Nyarai considered for a minute. “Magnesium. We could burn magnesium steam. It would give off hydrogen which we could also burn or use for the envelope and make magnesium oxide and then magnesium hydrate. We could drive off the water from the magnesium oxide and re-run that. If we had the energy, we could reduce it back to magnesium powder using a chloride and electrolysis with iron and carbon electrodes. But forget that part. We can start the trip with magnesium powder. Drawing off the hydrate is easy. It floats.”

I believe we can buy magnesium metal in Zebrenica, and coal along the way to reduce the hydrate, or chop down trees. Yes, I believe we can. If we stick to the coast, I can think of 5 places we can stop along the way. We’ll be going with the wind once we’re north of the sea and the trades.”

“I had another idea, Ferdinand. How long do you think a nirik can stay angry for? Long enough to dehydrate magnesium?”

“A hundred seconds at least. Red Leaf was on fire for that long this morning. Let’s talk to Bullpen.”

2 Day Fall

It has been a thousand years since I have seen you like this.

—Pena “Teachings of the Alicorns”

2 Day Fall

The several ton lump of copper and molybdenum tore across the sky. Illuminated by the heat of its friction and the compression of the air as it traded velocity for light and heat, the incandescent sky-stone burned with a bright light visible all across Equestria as it neared the center of Equis.

Like an arrow from an ancient war in heaven, it had fallen from the outer darkness to the circles of the inner celestial sphere at enormous velocity stripping the atmosphere and gathering magic to itself like a loadstone as it passed. The bright green streak fell, clawed at by a black shadow. It raced from the east across the sky toward the ruins of Canterlot. Blue spirit sparks tried to redirect the meteorite and shift it slightly, but mere seconds remained. The small fragment passed directly above the ruins of Canterlot.

The blue spark had imagined the meteorite was a merely spiteful random act, and once it had altered the trajectory away from population centers it had forgotten the falling star. Belatedly it found the spark’s own redirection had selected the true target high in the air over Canterlot - a remnant spell window.

The bright green shooting star slipped through the magical window to reappear and impact the ice of the frozen north. Its magic energies spread over the ice. Kicked into motion by the magic, grim spirits of emptiness, hunger, and rage, burst forth from the ice, emerging from the silent resting grounds of the barren waste to wander aimlessly through the frozen north.

28. Blood Moon

I don’t know what you know of the nightmares. They are many very fragmentary records, but it seems nightmares or things like nightmares would emerge from time to time on the far end of the chain of creation and wreak havoc. They destroyed everything they touched, until they were imprisoned, exorcised, or stopped by the many formidable enemies they made. Occasionally they would come to Equis. So, nightmares were well known, but were formerly a very rare former cosmic horror.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

28. Blood Moon

“Do you have to go now? It’s getting dark. Why don’t you leave in the morning?” Silver sniffed holding back tears. Blue Blossom looked at her tree house. The front window was boarded up to keep the cold out. The boy’s room was ruined. It would take time to strip it down to the underlying wood and get the smoke out. They were sleeping in her room for now.

The shadows were lengthening. It was time to go.

Blue Blossom packed her things. A saddlebag full of food and a warm blanket. A compass. A tent. A box of matches gave her pause. But she packed it anyway. Her mother and father were inconsolable, despite her assurances she would be back soon.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry we didn’t listen to you. Do you really have to go?” Silver Blossom hugged her again. Her father watched with a sad expression. He had dark circles under his eyes and swayed a tiny bit. The last few days had been hard on both her parents. The Sheriff had read them the riot act, and only the fact the three children all had their cutie marks, and that Blue was technically an adult kept her parents from a night or more in jail.

“Yes mom, I really have to. I wish you could see what I do now when I look at the sky, or when I dream. If I stay here, it will be too late when I get to Canterlot. It might be too late already. There is a…. a hero, a heroine, a knight. She, um, she was chosen by Harmony. Three times. Once by the sky. Once by a king. And once by a righteous spirit. She was supposed to save the world.”

“And what does this have to do with you?”

“She’s dead mom.”

Her mother blinked at that.

“Dead or dying. Regardless, she won’t be in Canterlot in time to stop Regina Glacies.”

“I wish I understood half the things you say. Is that a constellation or a pony?”

“Regina Glacies was and will be a pony, is a victim and will be a tragedy. The stars say she is also potentially a constellation. Mother, I wish I knew myself. All I know is I have to go.”

“Should we go with you?”

“No mom, I won’t be alone. The boys need you. I can see that too. Don’t worry, I know I’ll find help along the road. A pegasus and an earth pony in fact. Pegasusand Terra Equuleus are quite clear. I’ll run into them on the bridge to Canterlot. In fact, you are going to send the pegasus after me. He’ll be arriving in a day or so.”

Cotton hugged her and kissed her. Her other brother still had bandaged hooves and was filled with complex emotions. He felt ashamed she was leaving and perceiving he had a hoof in it he refused to meet her eyes, and just looked at his hooves. Blue Blossem walked right up to Fire Blossom. She hugged him, kissed the side of his face and whispered, “It was not your fault”. She hugged him fiercely. “Fire, Cotton, take care of mom and dad. I love you.” She kissed her newly marked brother one last time and began to walk out of Bridlewood towards the ruined mountain of Canterlot.

After a quarter mile, she noticed that Mystic Orb, the old black unicorn glass blower was standing in her path. She nodded to Blue Blossom and leaned in close. “Good luck Bluebell Blossom, I can’t see as clearly as you, but you weren’t chosen for this by Harmony or anything else. So be careful and stay safe. I wanted you to have this. I made it the night the magic came back. It’s made from a single crystal I found when I got my own cutie mark. It is meant to be yours till you meet your friends at the bridge. I didn’t know it when I made it, but I can see it now.” She hoofed her a small ball. It had a silvered surface that showed her own reflection. “See, it’s got your face right on it. Keep it safe and pass it on.” Mystic Orb gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked back towards the village.

Bad things were coming. The stars, planets and even the moon had been clear. The moon was now tinged with red as it began to become eclipsed. She had to go to Canterlot before the shadow from the moon reached Immortales Alicornis. There was only a slim chance her going would make a difference stopping Wärmetod from making use of Regina Glacies. But without her there was no chance at all.

Shouldering her backpack she stepped boldly out onto the road to Canterlot.

30. Burial Details

Luna and Celestia had been in retirement and were visiting the chain of creation on a grand tour when the nightmares first struck. By chance they were nearby and fought a doomed rearguard action from world to world, as the darkness pursued them to the very gates of Equis.

—Pena, Reply to Prince Habib re: “On the Origins of Ponies*(*and Others) and Magic”

30. Burial Details

Smells like cat birds.

Voice. Like Gwen, but deeper and a bit younger. “…sorry, sorry, so sorry….”

Red on the horizon the blood moon shone. The red moon light was not soothing or cool. It was harsh, cold, unforgiving. The fire came in and out of focus. Blood has been spilled. My blood thought Rizi. More will be spilled soon. The moon looked on and the red shadow gradually departed. Rizi let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She felt tired. Blood, cold blood, blood, and water. Cool darkness…

Pain, something being drawn through her body. More blood, fire pain. Water poured down my throat. My voice, but not my voice... “...into shock. ...bottom of her pack and those green vials. Warning you… ...shut up griffon and take direction!... …. Once she starts… …loud hop… give…”

Smells like burial detail. Smells like me, I’M ON FIRE! No Nooo NnnOOoowww…

Gwen “Don’t try to move!” ‘But my back is burning!’ .... warm darkness…

“.... she’s still dying… It's because of me. I should never have come, should never have left… .... I didn't know, I didn’t know… ...evening… …attacked… …flying at night... …just trying to make sure I hadn’t… …sky-fish things with teeth… …from everywhere and then started snapping at me. They chased me for… …flew all over the place... …sounded like Giselle... …singing off in the… …out to sea and they all went towards that. I came back to the camp and… …all that was left ... ...there’s nothing to bury…”

“...ic shock again…,” Gwen says, “Drink this.” Oh, ow, that burns like fire.

“Ouchies…” …. Hey, that is seven letters. “Oh, Hi Ember.”