Author's Note

Hey guys.

It is with a heavy heart that I announce that I am forced to take a month off from posting. The reason is unfortunately work-related.

One of my employees has gone in for surgery, leaving me to do his job for the next few weeks, and leaving me little time to do my own thing. I will be honest, I am gonna be too damn tired to write.

That being said, I am still going to try and get some work completed, but I wanted to give myself some leeway in case the stupid happens, and I miss a posting. You guys, and maybe gals, have been truly kind to me. So I am sure you will do your best not to pull out the torches and pitchforks.

At least for a little while.

That being said, please enjoy this chapter, as my editor worked their ass off making sure I didn't look like an idiot.

Thanks for reading. Remember to hydrate, and I'll see you guys soon....ish.

Peace!

And the Best Laid Plans

For a brief moment, Orion was beginning to think he was going to be part of an international incident in the inn's common room.

The puffed-up pigeon, whose face had turned various shades of red, had looked like he was going to throw the first punch at his face. Or attempt to lecture him on his station and how he should regard his betters. In either case, the drake would be rewarded for his efforts in the form of a strike to the throat the moment he moved.

Then Grace appeared between them, placing a hand out toward them both and stopping them before the colt so much as twitched.

The moment she mentioned that he was her friend and guest, his would-be opponent deflated like a balloon, trying and failing to speak. His weird little beak clicked as he tried and was unable to form words to respond with.

"Your f-friend?" He croaked out at last, looking hurt and strangled all at once.

"Yes, Orion, let me introduce you to the Heir of Silktail, Roderick Silktail. Roderick, this is my friend from when I lived in Equestria, Orion Falls." The hen paused for a moment, then added. "Oh, Roderick's family is currently at the head of the Neighbonese Merchant Council here in Neighbon. That's the ruling party, by the way." She finished, for some reason looking embarrassed that she had to do this at all.

With introductions officially made, both males took stock of one another.

Orion was unimpressed if anyone were to ask him. The hippogriff was scrawny, his colors of a blue mane and green-furred body annoyed him, but that could have merely been because of the initial rudeness he had displayed upon charging in here.

He was shorter than the colt, bearing a surfers body, made all the more apparent by his open shirt, revealing a slim physique for those that cared to look.

Speaking of his clothes, he must have chosen a shirt that attempted to compliment his colors purposefully; the eye-wrenching lilac and coral swirl of hues gave him a headache. Made worse by all the gold needlework he figured was supposed to represent waves.

It just looked like gold vomit smeared onto the shirt in random patterns to him.

The pants, high-water though they were, were at least somewhat a normal tan without any gaudy embellishments. He half expected to see jewels sown in for no reason. Still, even to his untrained eye, he could see the quality was far surpassing his meager wear.

That irked him.

Yet, Orion couldn't help but smirk. He was an off-colored beach. An ornament on a Christmas tree that served to remind folks back home of the warm seasons to come.

"Orion, say something." Grace leaned in and whispered fiercely. Apparently, he was taking far too long in his assessment because the subject of his scrutiny was glaring at him again. His beak formed a straight line that would have been impossible for his more feral kin, just like a griffon. Though, if he were to be fair, his annoyed look was likely due to the smug expression he still wore.

"Um, yo. What up?" He wanted to congratulate himself on his quick thinking, but the offended look he got from both Grace and Roderick made him think he made a mistake.

"What…up?" Beach Boy said, seeming to taste each word that passed his beak.

"Yeessss?" Orion said slowly, beginning to think the poor drake was slow. "It is slang for: How's it going? Or, if you are so inclined to take it this way: Is everything good with you?"

"Orion." His friend hissed at him, and he sighed.

"So much for educating the poor soul on the etiquette of street slang." He bemoaned.

"Fine…" He whined at her before turning back to the confused and irritated merchant brat. "Hello. How are you?" Orion said as robotically as possible, shooting a glance at Grace to tell her this was because of her and not his lack of effort.

No one said a thing. It stretched on so long that he quickly abandoned his brief foray into the nice sections of his personality and went straight for the asshole aisle, with a side pick up of rude from one of the endcaps.

"Dude, do you have a pull rope?"

"A…pull rope?" Roderick's eyebrow hiked up. "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is the only way I can get ya to respond is by yanking your chain and annoying the shit out of you, and it's only been three minutes since we’ve met!" He threw up his hands. "I mean Christ! What is your deal? Ya come in here-"

"Orion!"

"Don't shush me, woman." He spat before turning back on target. "Ya come in here, start running your mouth the moment you see Grace." He paused and gave her a meaningful stare. He knew this next bit was going to upset her, but she was asking for it by putting him on the spot like this. Again. "You are obviously head over hooves for her because, let's face it, only someone in love would wear any of that!" He jabbed a finger mockingly at the poor drake's choice of attire. "And now you stare at me as if I have grown a third head out of my asshole." He took a deep breath. "So my question is, what is your problem? Is that specific enough for you?"

He may have been a little too loud.

Everyone in the common room looked at him in various degrees of shock, awe, and embarrassment, except for one sea-green pegasus mare in the back, who grinned widely as if she was seeing the best show on Equis.

Grace had buried her head in her hands, the tips of her tufted feathers quivering.

Roderick looked as if he had been punched in the gut by a bodybuilder on steroids, the poor hippogriff's jaw was practically on the floor, and all color had drained from his face.

Otto had simply vanished. No evidence that the drake was ever there to begin with.

"...Orion…" Came his friend's pained moan. He didn't miss a beat.

"I'm sorry, Grace." He struggled to keep himself from growling. "But this guy hasn’t made any attempt to be cordial, just awkward. I get it. He's a noble or whatever, but you know me, I hate when people try that "better than thou" bullshit no matter what form it takes, and I don't have to impress anyone here."

"I…I know. Just…" her eyes pleaded with him, "can you not be…I don't know…you for five minutes?" The request had no heat, but it hurt like a brand regardless.

"Okay, ouch." The black colt said defensively. He, of course, knew he had gone too hard. However, after the events with the Iron Dogs, Grace's demands on his secretive nature, and just general exhaustion, plus the plaguing thoughts that he had earlier, the colt was just done with it all.

"And arrogant McDumbfuck here is the last straw."

"You know what?" He said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from hitting something. "I'm just gonna go. You can stick around here and give whatever apologies you think will smooth over my "social blunder" with him." He air quoted in voice alone. "I got better things to do than be put in an awkward position and be the only one trying to be civil when I sure as hell don't wanna be." That was not entirely true, but he had made an attempt regardless. The fact that neither responded in kind or said anything at all was moot at this point.

Taking a step, he stopped and looked at a still-stunned Roderick, a bored expression on his face.

"Oh, and you." The drake flinched. "Hurt her feelings in any way, annoy her in any way, and I'll beat you seven ways from Sunday." He leaned in close. "I hope you received the message loud and clear." And with that, he left the common room in its eerie quiet.

As he headed up the stairs to grab some pocket change, he heard a low chuckle from the mare, who seemed to find so much amusement in the whole affair.

"You're welcome for the show. Don't forget to tip your waitress."

Grace didn't know what to do. Orion had done the equivalent of taking a very large warhammer and smashing everything to bits, leaving her with what was left. And without any tools to fix it.

Poor Roderick stared blankly at where her friend from Equestria had stood not a few moments prior. Face a mix of fear and anger that warred for dominance as his eyes darted back and forth.

Best she attempts to smooth things over.

"I have never seen him like that before." She thought.

"I'm…sorry, Roderick. Orion is often better than that, but recent events…" What could she really say? That Orion was under so much stress because he had done the impossible and provided her people a means of coming back from the brink of collapse? That her own, resolved yet not, feelings had likely overtaxed his emotional state?

The revelation not a day prior that he knew exactly what was at stake only made it plainer that his support had placed a massive burden upon his shoulders.

No, she mentally shook her head. It would take too long to explain any of that to anyone's satisfaction, plus there was the secretive nature of it all to consider. The Heir of Silktail had no reason or need to know and very well might end up saying something to the wrong individuals.

"I…I have never been…spoken to like that before." He whispered, more to himself than to her. His eyes blinked owlishly for a moment before turning to her. "Would you be terribly cross with me if I have him put in a stockade?"

She laughed. Grace couldn't help it. Orion's effect on people always led to either them liking him and enjoying his company or wanting to strangle him.

"Yes, I would be very upset with you." She smiled, the awkwardness giving way to familiarity. "Please, sit." He already looked worn out, and as he took Orion's previously occupied seat, she had to admit the colt's observations were correct about one thing. Roderick Silktail was madly in love with her, and it was hardly a secret to anyone.

Had been since the day they met, during her first time in Neighbon. The hippogriff had come up to her in the Chamber of Commerce and loudly declared his adoration and eternal devotion in front of her Uncle, his father, and the Grand Merchant Council of Neighbon.

Looking back on that now, she could admit how cute it had been, him on one knee before her, looking up at her with hope in his eyes. But to her teen self at the time, it had been mortifying.

Now, as he took his seat, she took note of the changes in him since last they met. He was taller, if only slightly taller than her, and he still possessed the same slim build he had had as a fledgling in that he had not changed at all. She supposed the luxury of living by the sea; perhaps his pony heritage had something to do with it as well, as most members of that race were slim.

In either case, the only difference between then and now was that he wasn't so gangly, having grown into his wings quite well.

While she had been searching for the changes in the young merchant prince, he had been making his own observations.

"Lady Fairheart, it seems you have grown even more beautiful since last I was graced with your presence." He brushed claws through his mane and cast his glance to the side, adopting a coy pose. "Have you received my…letters?"

Grace almost laughed again.

"Letters? More like you are attempting to write an Opera in my honor!"

Over the years since they had met, Roderick had sent her no less than twenty letters each year. Many of the packages were stuffed full of sonnets and poems, all comparing her beauty to various subjects, some so abstract that she struggled to understand what he was trying to imply other than to convey his love for her.

Yet, it was all very sweet.

Too sweet, really, though she had been unable to convince him of that in her replies. Not to mention the plethora of gifts he has sent her, some requiring an overland convoy to arrive, others coming together over the course of months.

"Oh no…the chair…"

With sickening realization, supreme guilt washed over her. The night of Rosebreast's banquet, she had destroyed the bureau with the matching chair it had come with. Both had been gifts from him. The noble hen had only had them in her rooms because her aunt had insisted that a lady have a pondering station.

"Lady Fairheart?" His question broke through her spiraling thoughts.

"I apologize. It has been a long few weeks. What was that?"

"I asked how you liked my latest gift. It should have arrived at the castle a little over a week ago." He said cluelessly, and there had been no way for him to know she hadn't been in the castle in more than a month.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I haven't been home in quite some time. I am positive it is something lovely." She flushed; if it was as flowery as the dresser she received last year, it was likely going to collect dust in one of the many storage rooms assigned to her.

"Ah." He responded morosely. "If I may inquire? What has kept you away?"

"Shit."

If she told him that she had been on vacation with Orion this entire time, the drake would likely do something ill-advised.

Why had she forgotten about the hippogriff male who lived in this city and had been trying to court her for years?

"You know why." A little voice inside her mind mocked softly, and Grace did.

She hadn't truly given up, not really.

Grace was still holding out hope that Orion would change his mind. The hen remembered the bathing attire for beachgoers in this city, which may have also been why she so easily forgot who called this nation home.

Her last embers of hope rested on the colt seeing her in such garb and rethink on his choice of rejecting her, even if he had a good reason for doing so.

"I'm afraid I've been showing Orion around the kingdom." True enough, but there was a hurt look in the drake's eye. "It's his first time outside of Equestria in a very long time, and I wanted to show him the countryside." She grimaced; their first day into the journey Aviary had been memorable. "And he showed me, and the soldiers with me, a Roc."

Roderick's eyes widened in anger.

"He endangered your life?!" He nearly shrieked.

"More his own, honestly." She shook her head and laughed a little. "Seriously, he can get into some mischief if left to his own devices."

"I…I don't understand. He amuses you?" He asked incredulously, evidently confused.

"Yes, yes, he does." Then added. "He also can annoy the absolute shit out of me." Her smile broadened at the way his face scrunched up at her use of swears.

The poor hippogriff had been a bit of a prude when it came to using more vulgar language, and it seemed that had not dimmed over the years.

"I see." He shook his head. "So, how did you meet him?"

"When I was little, my parents had an accident and died during the food riots on the border with Equestria." She began, and he nodded. Roderick knew this part; most did. "Well, when I was found, it wasn't by the Griffonian forces; it was the ponies, as you also know. I ended up living in Canterlot, at an orphanage there."

"Yes, dreadfully sad." He lamented, though not with sarcasm. "I do regret your parents' death."

"Me too; I would have loved to have known them." Her head hung slightly, but she went on. "Orion came to the orphanage long after me. But he left an impression despite me leaving a few months later."

"Indeed, if you allow him to come to visit you." He remarked, clearly thinking it had been her friend that wanted to visit her and not the other way around.

"I had been trying to get him to visit for years now." His eyes widened, but she did not allow him to interrupt her. "Though, in retrospect, perhaps I had been too hasty then." She purposefully neglected to tell the drake that she had been so madly in love with Orion that she was willing to do almost anything to get him to come to her.

"In any case, he finally decided to come up this summer, and we have been having a wonderful time together." It was an outright lie, and she was miserable despite the eventual resurrection of her Uncle's kingdom being sped along by Orion's ideas and plans.

Her desires had been dashed, her heart broken. Yet, he remained her friend if nothing else, even if she still held out hope that she may be able to turn his head.

Still, he had done something more than she or anyone in her family could have hoped for. Something that she never imagined anyone doing for her or her people.

"I see." Roderick's tone and demeanor said that all of this was very much not to his liking. She was once again grateful that the poor dear could not read her body language as well as Eberhard or her aunt could. Otherwise, he would have known most of her tale for the lie that it was.

It wasn't that she didn't think the Heir of Silktail was a bad person. Far from it, despite his superiority complex, he had a heart for those underneath him. He was generous and kind. But he could also be vindictive when he felt slighted.

"Then again, Orion can be as well." She thought.

An idea blossomed forth in her mind. It was devious, it was sneaky, and she could not bring herself to reject it outright.

"Could I…invoke jealousy in Orion?" It was not a comfortable line of reasoning. If Grace could make the colt jealous of her time spent with Roderick, might he change his mind easier? It would certainly spare her the embarrassment of squeezing herself into the bathing suits currently popular here.

On their way to the Crimsonwave, she had spied such garb and was appalled at the fact that it was in two pieces. When had they come up with that?!

At the same time, she could hurt the hippogriff badly if she was not careful; leading him on would not only shame her but have dire consequences for her Uncle's kingdom in terms of treatment during trade negotiations.

Yet the thought remained, burrowing into her heart like a worm as she listened to Roderick tell of his time without her.

"Going somewhere?" Came Gilda's question when he came down the stairs of the Crimsonwave a second time that morning.

Orion was beyond annoyed. The arrogant puffed-up pigeon that was Grace's- "perhaps friend was too strong a word, but associate might do" had gotten under his skin more than he thought he would.

Though, that might be due more to his irritation at himself.

Despite it all, he had lost his temper again. It had been easy back in Griffonia when he had been subjected to Rosebreast's machinations. He had been expecting it, so he had been able to prepare for her level of bullshit. With Roderick, it had been a sudden and jarring moment that had completely thrown him off his game, which meant he had no way of really preparing for the level of self-entitlement that Roderick expressed from every pore and every breath.

He wanted to bite something.

The real question was why. Why was he so irritated by some buffoon that seemed to have no presence and even less charisma than a snail?

"Goddamnit." Of course, he knew. Jealousy. He was jealous, and even knowing he couldn't have her for fear of her safety, and he still couldn't help himself. "Hey, I thought we had been over this, heart. No romance bullshit. Not till we know what the fuck is going on."

If his heart was listening, it didn't show it. Instead, his mind turned to how he acted in front of her.

Shaking his head, he looked to his would-be warden of the day.

Gilda Broadwing stood at the base of the stairs, her feathers done back, wearing a simple set of civilian clothing in yellows and greens.

If not for the way the hen stood nor the short sword that was fastened to a leather belt, she may have blended into the crowds pretty well.

"I am going," he said stiffly, "to the museum." He unclenched his jaw and spoke more in a more hospitable tone. "Why? Are you my foalsitter of the day? Keep me out of trouble?"

"No." She laughed. "Lady Fairheart just asked me to let you know that she would be out with Sir Silktail for the day." She cocked her head curiously. "I thought you two were supposed to "hang out"." She mocked, air quoting as she said it.

"I did too."

"I thought her ass wanted to relax for the day, and now she's going out with the Beach Boy?" Shaking his head, he headed for the entrance, his soured mood already getting worse.

"Well, that keeps her out of my mane, I suppose. Thanks for letting me know."

"That's it?"

He stopped and turned to regard Gilda.

"Uh, yeah? What? You think I should send you back to tell her, let her know what she already does?" He grinned. "Or are you so bored you'd rather come to chill with me and look at old shit together?" He smirked. "It won't be fun for a soldier like you."

She opened her mouth, likely to say no thanks, and paused, a smile pulling at the corner of her beak's lips.

"You know what? Why not? I like history; maybe they will have something to interest me."

He did a double-take. "Really now?"

She was up to something. What, he didn't know. But her sudden change in demeanor spoke volumes that there was an underlying purpose to her change of mind.

"Yes, really." Her head ducked low for a moment; shame plastered her face. "Besides. I don't think I've apologized enough for what I said to you. About you."

"Bitch, you've been groveling for like a week now. Give over, I forgive you, and besides, you weren't supposed to know shit and assume I was a typical pony asshole." Folding his arms, he interrupted her as she tried to speak again. "Look, I get it. You feel like an ass. I would too. But you have to understand, other than that little tussle in my rooms, you've only talked shit. And I suppose what I did at Rosebreast's wasn't a well-thought-out plan, but I was making it up as I go, and I deserved the beat down for making Grace cry." He shrugged. "Okay, maybe not a full beating, but a good smacking regardless."

"But I-"

"Let it go." Orion spoke firmly. "It's over; fifty thousand apologies isn't going to wipe it away, but it's over. Now," he eyed her suspiciously, "if you're gonna come, let's go. I've wasted enough of the day on drama and the like to last a week." He opened the inn door, gestured at her, and then bounded down the steps without looking back.

Turning south, he remembered Otto's directions from last night.

"It's the biggest of the rocky pillars. The museum also houses a small research lab. For some reason, the ponies are really curious as to how the pillars, the ones our homes are built around, were made in the first place. It's further south from here, and as I said, it's Big."

He didn't need his radar to tell him that the guards hen was hot on his heels. The tap of paws on the wood planks behind him was more than enough of an indication.

Orion smiled to himself. At least he wouldn't feel like a lame-ass going alone now.

Otto really hadn't lied when he called the stone structure big. The pillar of stone, locals simply called Calcul, was huge. The base was easily as wide as his school's administration building which was, for all intent and purposes, a mansion.

Like most structures built into the naturally formed stone pillars, it was a whiteish gray with rough features. Chiseled into the front and sides was a portal for double doors, fluted columns, and high-arched windows, all done in a suspiciously Equestrian design.

Before the doors were a pair of steps that did not quite meet the stoop, being roughly six or eight inches from the edge. As if the designers had yet to bother to measure the distance or use high-quality materials and just slapped together a set of stairs.

The black colt also noticed that their little trip to the museum pathways had been different.

Snaking through and around the natural stone columns were wooden walkways supported on short logs of wood sunken into the ground. Here and there, he could see where some of the paths had been removed entirely and new ones plotting new courses elsewhere.

"The fuck is going on with the steps?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.

"I'm not sure." Muttered Gilda. "A lot of businesses and homes on the ground floor seem to have the same thing, I’ve noticed." She gestured toward one. "Perhaps it's a flooding issue? You know? From storms."

Orion pondered that. It did make sense in a way. Why waste money if flood waters from storms were just going to wash away the steps that went for the paths as well? Then again….

"Yeah. But how strong are the currents to be able to wash away stone steps?"

"Huh," she paused, a claw tapping her beak, "that's true." She shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Are we going in, or are we going to just stand around questioning architectural choices?"

He snorted, noting the fact that Gilda seemed to be feeling better than she had at the start of their walk.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go oooh and ahh at local history." Turning, he tromped up the steps and pulled the door open, getting a welcome smack of cool air that struck his face.

"A/C?"

It was noticeably cooler once they stepped inside, and a quick glance around showed the why that was.

The staff were all ponies, most being unicorns themselves, were either cleaning, conversing in quiet tones with visitors, or in the one's case, sitting behind a carved-out booth handing out pamphlets. Likely had some crew specifically crafting crystals for cooling the rooms down.

Their uniform was simple long white coats and gloves tucked into the sleeves. On one shoulder was the Equestrian flag, the other Neighbon's dawning sun banner.

"Well, shit. Equestrians."

No one had told him that the exhibit keepers might be researchers from Equestria itself. Someone was bound to know him as he made enough of an impact in Canterlonian society to be mentioned once or twice a year in the papers.

But that begged another question, why were they here? What interest could a tropical paradise hold for pursuers of knowledge?

With dread, he noticed that the booth keeper handing out pamphlets bore a red scarf with the emblem of the Church of Sol.

"Huh." He mumbled.

"What?" Gilda asked, casting her own wary eye on the museum staff.

"Nothing, just…"

"Hello, and good morning. May the rays of the Sun greet you this day!" Orion inwardly recoiled at the evangelical greeting. He heard it several times from street criers on the corner of avenues and busy intersections in Canterlot to know exactly who and what this lemon-colored mare was.

A devout follower of the Church of Sol. The crimson stole was not obvious appointment enough.

"Ah yeah. You too." He tried not to grimace, but judging by her quickly souring expression, he hadn't succeeded. At all.

"You are not a believer." She accused.

"No, I am not. And please, and no offense, I don't really want to hear why Celestia is our Lord and Savior." Her sour expression morphed into anger as her arms crossed under a barely noticed bust.

"We do not worship…Her." The distinct disgust in the mare's tone caught his attention immediately.

Back in Canterlot, he did his utmost to ignore the soapbox preaching, the calls for mass on Sundays, and the invites of random classmates in school to attend seminars with them. In his efforts to avoid being wrapped up in what appeared to be the state religion, he had just assumed they treated Celestia as a minor deity or something and went about his day.

"Wait? You don't worship the Princess?"

"Why would we?" She snorted. "She is not the Sun." That just raised more questions. What, or who, did she mean when she said the Sun? Was there a sun god he was not aware of? "I can see you are confused." She smiled slightly, less hostile than before but still very disappointed. "The Princess is merely the herald of the Sun, guiding Her light to all those who follow the Path. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah…" He nodded, unsure if he really cared. "Celestia is merely the bringer; the Sun is, well, The Sun."

"Exactly. I can tell you've never been to mass. Would you like to attend this coming Sunday? We have a wonderful chapel resting on the cliff north of here. It faces the rise of the Sun," there was that almost euphoric voice again, "so when Her light shines across the mosaic glass, it lights up the whole chamber." And there was the hopeful zeal once more burning behind her green eyes.

"Listen, I'm on vacation, and I’m being real honest with you. No offense, but I don't buy into the whole religious deal anyway." He shrugged under the intense heat of her glare. "More of an agnostic, honestly, into science and all that." He quickly added. "But thank you for the offer."

She harrumphed and marched away from the pair while Gilda laughed softly from behind. The booth operator may not have heard what was being said, but the way her scowl mirrored her fellow evangelical meant she understood the situation and did not approve.

He groaned as Gilda ribbed him good-naturedly.

"Smooth, very smooth. You made her clarify her position and then tend her no thank you as if she didn't just waste her time educating you." She chortled to herself. "This might have been the best decision I've made all week."

"I didn't know you were a follower." He snarked back.

"I'm not-"

"Then shuddap."

Instead of being offended, the guardshen just laughed harder, drawing the attention of a few other patrons, as he tried his hardest not to storm off from the infuriating griffon.

Rather than take the abuse, he stepped past a second pair of double doors at the end of the long, low-ceiling foyer. Peering around the large chamber that was opened before him, he was soon occupied from his angry thoughts about putting a hoof up his babysitter's ass.

The room, with its high vaulted roof and carved fluted columns, reminded him of every inch of Equestrian construction. Right down to the way actual gold was used to accentuate the edging. The only difference he could see was the way it had been created; they were hewn from the stone itself rather than being carried in and assembled.

At least it was more efficient.

Reliefs of the founding of Neighbon were set at different stages on the walls spaced with carvings of vines and flowers in between. Celestia was prominent in almost all of them, acting very much like the guiding force behind the nation's creation. A far cry from the truth, as once the land had been given over, her government had given up all pretense of care to the struggling city-state.

"Great, the museum is propaganda to Her Highness Princess Fatcheeks."

Though that in itself was weird, considering what he had just learned earlier. If they did not worship her, why was she prominent in many Church of Sol paraphernalia?

He shook his head, the black colt not wanting to go down that line of questioning unless he had a few drinks in him. Whenever the next time, that might be.

At the center was a kiosk. Even more pamphlets, though this describes the foundation of the Calcul, and signs in Prench and Equish marking out the direction a tour would take. There were also hand-drawn posters with a brief description of proper etiquette within the premises and around artifacts.

Standard fare.

Walking to the counter, he waited behind a family of seven hippogriffs. The two adults and their five hatchlings were caught in an animated conversation with the attendant in prench, who was thankfully not wearing a red stole, which left him with little desire.

A thought struck him.

"Hey, Gilda."

"Hmm?" She wore a bored look, staring off at one of the reliefs depicting a battle against what appeared to be a giant crab coming from the sea. Celestia, of course, was there, seeming to direct the course of the fight.

"Griffons don't lay eggs, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to gain clarification for his next question.

"No, dummy. We do not. Why are you asking something you should have learned already?" Crossing her arms, the hen gave him the stink eye.

"Because I wanted to know why you regard your youngest as hatchlings. Why not cubs or kittens? Why hatchlings specifically?" He paused, then nodded. "For that matter, fledgling? Maybe I can see a reason, but it still seems off to me."

She opened her beak to answer with a rude look, then stopped, surprise blossoming through the annoyed look. "Huh."

"Right? It never made much sense to me." He gestured at her beak. "Perhaps it's just because of your avian qualities that you do it, but from a biology standpoint, the only egg you guys come from is an ovarian version like the rest of us."

"Wait? Dragons exist. Do they have a live birth too? Or are they the actual egg layers?"

He wondered why it never occurred to him to question that.

"Wow. I…I never thought of it like that." She muttered. "What made you think of it?"

"Well, despite the pony origins, hippogriffs take their vernacular when regarding themselves from you guys." He pointed at the kids in front of them, one of which was mining for gold for all that she was worth. "Seeing them and being bored waiting, I had a random thought."

"This is what your brain does to entertain itself?" She mocked.

"What? It was a legitimate question!" He was being defensive, of what he had no clue, but knew better than to show weakness in front of the guardshen.

"Most males," she used the word to imply all species, "I've met, tend to fantasize about battles they may have, or in the ponies' case, imagine their lives with a big herd. You, you just question everything." She shook her head. "It's no wonder you're so weird."

"Hey, Miss Meat-for-brains, just cause you can't think of anything beyond the tip of a weapon doesn't mean the rest of us like to roll around the mud with you. And are you really surprised that I don't think about having a herd?"

"Meat-for-brains? Who blew up a rock rather than move a field!?" She screeched back.

"Someone who didn't want to dig an entirely new patch of ground, you violent harpy!"

"Excuse me!" Someone interrupted, louder than both of them. "This is a place of learning and historical preservation, not the halls of parliament. If you wish to shout at one another, then you will take it outside."

Both turned to see the stallion behind the counter glaring hotly at the pair of them. The black-as-coal pony was short for an earth pony but wide, and he now bored a large switch he had pulled from somewhere. Orion could see his muscles ripple beneath the tight fabric of his smock as he leaned toward them.

"Sorry, bud." He murmured, looking abashed. Gilda was in a similar state and issued her own apologies.

Staring hard for a couple of moments longer, he nodded and slipped the beating implement back into his garb.

"Good. Judging by the back and forth, I can assume you are friends, so I can only hope this is also normal for you. Please restrain yourself while on the premises." Taking a deep breath, he stood straighter. "Now, what can I do for you? Are you here for the tour?"

"Uh, yeah. If there is one." Orion sighed, stepping forward to speak with the attendant properly. "Honestly, we are in the city for a couple of weeks, and I wanted to check the place out almost as soon as I heard about it." The colt shook his head and muttered. "Did not expect so much propaganda, though."

"I'm just tagging along. Not much for me to do today." Gilda chimed in.

"Bullshit. You still feel bad for being a shit. How are you even a soldier?"

The Neighbonese pony chuckled. "Yes, I'm afraid since most of our sponsorship comes from "private" donators, we are forced to acquiesce to certain demands." Shaking his head, he shot a sour look at one of the reliefs. "Well, in any case, the tour begins in a few minutes. However, there is an admittance fee of twenty Prancs for the tour." The attendant smiled softly. "Our attempt at breaking the yoke that binds us."

"That's fair." Orion dug around in his bit pouch, doing the math for conversion in his head while using his magic to slap the hen's hands away from her own. "I invited you along; you can buy lunch later." She frowned at him but otherwise kept silent. "Here you go. By the way, can you tell me where I can get some of this converted? It blows to have to do the math every time I need to buy something."

Taking the bits, the pony counted them and nodded. "Exact change, and yes. Three blocks away, near the shipping wharves. Bow and Tie Exchange, they handle currency for a lot of foreign shipments."

"Thanks." He received the torn ticket stubs. "When does it begin?"

"In about thirty minutes. Are you two capable of behaving yourselves?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at them, a small smile on his face.

"Nope, you got an alley for me and her to duke it out in?" He grins, earning a slug in the shoulder from Gilda and a weary shake of the head in amusement from the stallion in front of them.

"You seem to be as bad as the hatchlings that visit here." He said wryly.

"He is. Only believe half of what this pony says." Gilda chimed in, earning an affronted glare from Orion.

"Hey-"

"Please, wait in the seating area." The pony cut in smoothly, pointing to the stairs heading up. "If you need anything, please contact me. I am Solar Earth, in case I am not around and you need questions answered."

Grumbling, the black colt stalked off, trailed by a very amused griffon.

Eberhard smiled. An expression he often only employed to throw off would-be mental opponents.

It was something he often found himself doing a lot as of late. The colt, Lady Fairheart's chickhood friend, had become something of a wellspring of those smiles in recent days.

Nor was it just the dusty old spy himself.

He could see it in the faces of the villagers as he passed them by. Their eyes lighting up at the recent additions to their tool sheds and storage capabilities when their gazes fell on them.

The town had drastically changed since they had first arrived merely a month ago. New granaries and underground storage vaults had been constructed that sat on the outskirts of town, with easy access when winters hit.

Much of that had been done with the pony using magic to support the structures as the work crews labored to shore them up quickly.

Passing by the center of the hamlet, he saw the foundations for the bunkhouses already laid, waiting for work crews to return from an afternoon break.

That had been his Lady's idea. Should the winters turn harsh, whole families could move in to weather the worst of it till spring or the weather eased up.

His smile grew at that. Grace Fairheart had grown into a fine young hen. A fine noble griffon, in fact. The Steward's efforts had not gone unrewarded, and it helped that she possessed a fair amount of common sense.

"Well, once she had calmed down."

He remembered her first days in her Uncle's court. Staring bright-eyed at everything. Unable to contemplate nor truly believe she was of noble birth herself. Then came the attempts on her life, and Eberhard thought that had been what woken the young fledgling to the realities of her new station.

More the horrors. Society in griffon's social hierarchy expected a great deal from her, and we were unkind to mistakes.

"Orion wouldn't let this stop him."

She had mentioned it two years later, after a particularly nasty encounter with an assassin that had managed to breach her rooms. Grace had ended the wretch's life in a surprising turn of events using the support pole she had snapped off from her bed's canopy.

The aftermath had been particularly brutal to clean up, but three guards' lives had been spared because of her actions. One of whom was Sergeant Broadwing herself.

Rather than allow herself to wallow in what had happened and be brought low by the gruesome need to defend herself, she had dried her tears with a torn and bloodied sleeve. While loudly declaring her friend's unmoveable nature with all the poise that came of her age and her commitment to embody her friend's courageous spirit.

That was when Orion Falls became a point of focus for him. Not an obsession as of yet, but he paid attention to any news coming from Canterlot that may have involved him. It was both alarming and oddly cathartic to hear of his exploits and his effect on the nobles there.

His heroic, if ill-advised, actions in Ponyville only heightened his notoriety if only because of his age.

Now, looking about himself at the quickly changing features of this not-so-small cliffside village, he could see another facet of himself. His will to do good.

With the Iron Dogs' assistance, a stone and wood wall was slowly beginning to envelop the town. With iron bars embedded every couple of feet. Homes now had iron supports, and some had taken to having small gardens in iron baskets hanging from their windows. All without knowing the true purpose of the metal and its guardian nature.

It was truly a marvel.

Sighing wistfully, he turned on his paw and continued his pace to the forges, where the blacksmiths were hard at work producing the first of what may be Griffonia's new steel ingots in centuries.

"Steel!" The metal was beyond valuable to them; it had been the hallmark of their species for centuries before its loss. Griffonian steel had been the benchmark of what the nation could produce, and many others failed to come close, try though they might.

During those dark days, when no one seemed even to remember what to do, many industries that relied on them fell to ruin. The whole city and town economies went into default, and even to this day, many have not recovered. Serving as ghostly reminders of what had once been.

Now, with a new kiln design and access to the knowledge once lost, there was a chance for griffons to rise from poverty and reclaim their honored craft once again.

Stepping into what Orion had called a Foundry, he swiped his forehead of sweat. The sudden intense heat that bore down on him caused him to steel himself from its effects. Not to unlike the hammer blows Godrick Ironbeak was delivering to a particularly glowing iron rod.

"Trouble?" He asked, keeping his distance and wishing for a towel as the burly griffon beat upon the metal.

"Damnable iron is not strong enough. Doesn't last long near the kilns. Have to beat it back into shape every few hours, or we risk losing the coke before it can make it into the pit." He nodded as one of the others murmured something that the hammers drowned out. "Or get the dross out." He grumbled, shoving the rod into a cooling barrel.

Turning, he wiped his hands vigorously on a cloth strapped to his belt and eyed Steward with a knowing grin.

"You here to see the end result?" He chuckled. "What am I saying? Of course, you are. Follow me!"

"I am. I am eager to see if it worked." He frowned, following at a respectful distance. "Was it truly necessary to chase me out last night?"

The evening prior, the smiths of the village had finally decided it was time to make an attempt at crafting the steel. The instructions had been detailed and meticulous in their step-by-step guidelines, and they were confident they could perform the necessary actions without mistakes.

Sadly, none of the metal workers wanted an audience, so with little ceremony, they practically shoved Eberhard out the door, barring him from even seeing inside as they got to work.

"It was. Ya'd have gotten under paw, and we didn't need to worry about ya hurtin' yourself when we wasn't lookin'." He laughed. "Besides, we didn't wanna give no one false hope." He grunted, and the other smiths who had been busy around one of the three kilns nodded as they stepped forward, carrying a case between them. "Ah, here we go. You know, when that colt came in tellin' us what to do and how to do it, I had my doubts…." He trailed off, lifting the lid and reaching inside. "But this…Winds keep me. I think this is the same quality the ponies produce."

Pulling his hand out, he held a silver brick in his claws that gleamed in the light of the forge fires. However, it wasn't a perfect brick with its slightly misshapen form. But it was the most beautiful thing in the world to his eyes.

"Boreas preserve us…." He whispered. "Is…is it-?"

"Steel?" Came Godrick's calm tone. "Yes. By the Winds, yes. We've already tested it. We compared it to a sample from Equestria, and they both reacted similarly to the crystal that pony provided. It's the same, Master Lonelycall." He placed the ingot reverently back inside to join the twenty more that sat there. "The pony really did it. He actually taught us how to forge steel."

Eberhard felt like there should have been a lightning crack. Or the ground should shake with the announcement. Instead, he just breathed, and the weight he did not even know he bore seemed to rush away from him as if carried away by the Winds themselves.

"Right? The colt is somethin' else."

"No, he is Master Falls." Awe touching his voice. "And I agree."

There was only one issue that he could see. It was the still mysterious nature of their remarkable benefactor.

A niggling question that was born from the negotiation with the Iron Dogs suddenly took to the forefront of his thoughts; at the time, other needs had pushed it back. Now, with nothing to occupy him, it was back, and he suspected only one mutt would give him a straight answer.

"Barney, here."

Balo's deep booming voice brought the named Iron Dog's attention to the door to his room.

His rooms.

Where once he had merely a hovel dug into the wall of a random tunnel, Barney Barker now had an actual bed chamber, an office, and, if Orion's idea panned out, his own washroom.

The difference in his and his Den's status had drastically changed so much that he was still reeling from it all. That pony, who so casually clocked him in the balls and then punched him in the face later, had done exactly what Tilly said he would do. The pups' bellies were full for the first time in years, and the families under him were warm and safe from death by attrition.

He might actually forgive the abuse to his future sons and daughters.

The Equestrian had done what he could not: fed and saved his people. Sure, in a lot of ways, they had become subservient to the griffons, but if that meant they had to exchange labor for a full belly, a warm place to sleep, and payment for their services, then the Iron Dog Leader had no issue with it.

He was tired of letting his pride get in the way of doing what was needed. It took an idiot whorse to wake him up, and he was deeply ashamed of that.

"Apologies, Lord Barker." Came the reedy tone of the hen's steward as he dipped into his office with a slight bow.

There was no mockery in his voice nor in the manner in which he gave his respect. It was very weird for the diminutive mutt to be considered a "lord" of any sort. Still, once negotiations had been finished, the thin griffon had not deviated from the honorific.

Often reminding others of his station when the need arrived.

"Master Lonelycall?" It paid to be respectful in return, after all. "What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" It was difficult to speak in such a hoity-toity way, but his sister had convinced him that if he was going to be called a lord, then he better start acting like it. Otherwise, he was likely going to make a mistake and lose ground later.

"Ah, yes. I am taking the opportunity to check in with you. Is everything going according to schedule?" The dusty secretary bird dismissed the single stool Barney had offered him, instead attempting not to loom over him as he began.

It was far too short, anyway. He may need to consider having larger ones made when he inevitably received other guests.

"Ahead? Absolutely. In fact, ta here some of my boys tell it, we might have the extra rooms dug out by the end of the week." He chuckled, noting the slip but not biting into it. "Using wood to support the walls and make it easier to provide light, well, I wouldn't have thought of it."

Another idea from the king of ideas. Thoughts so simple, the mutt wanted to smack himself for not thinking of it before.

"I wouldn't blame yourself too much, fucko." Orion had said after Barney had gone through a particularly nasty spell of self-doubt the week prior. "You were quite literally in survival mode. Surviving was all you could think about."

It was true enough. He was only worried about how he was going to feed and water his people. Going through the motions of digging out new tunnels in hopes of finding gems and the like without will or much thought.

Now? Now he could see how easy the ideas were to come up with. And funny enough, ironwood trees were plentiful in the region, making them ideal for the use of tunnel support.

Placing the buglights on them had been the next logical step after that.

"So I can assume events are going well?" He said with a smile.

"Yeah, things are going great!"

For a moment, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. There was a question in the air, and Barney could taste it if not know what it is.

Finally, Eberhard Lonelycall spoke.

"I don't mean to keep you, but ah…" Now, in the couple of weeks the pair had been working together; the Iron Dog Leader had never seen the griffon hesitate or look nervous, for that matter. To do so now meant he was uncomfortable about something.

Barney sniffed, testing the air and noting that not all of his pack had cleaned properly as currents brought new smells through the ventilation system.

"Look, I know the whole bathing situation is new for most of my people, but I have it set to mandatory after-work bathing routine, so my boys aren't stinkin' up da place." He slipped up again. "Is someone not doing it?"

"No. No!" A dry chuckle. "Nothing like that, I assure you, Lord Barker. My question is actually in regards to the negotiations." He took a step forward and bobbed his head. "It had to do with returning Master Falls's…things. You seemed quite upset with that then, and you kept glancing at them during the meeting. Was there something wrong?"

"W-wrong?" He had been busted. The hope was that in all the confusion, Orion would have forgotten that he had torn the valuable ornaments from him. It turned out only a few were actually worth a damn. The rest were just as they appeared, bits of simple steel and wood. "No." He shook his head, deciding to be honest. "Sorry. It was my nature, I'm afraid. Ya see. That colt has got something in a few of them. Gems, thin, I bet, but very high quality from the scent. And gold too. All stuffed inside 'em and hidden away like a dog with a bone." He shook his head, looking away abashedly and not noticing the paling on Eberhard's face. "Not sure why he did that, honestly. Perhaps he wanted raw coin and gems in case of a rainy day?"

The steward was silent so long this time that Barney feared the poor bird died standing up. That would not be good.

"Master Lonelycall?"

"Apologies, Lord Barker. I'm afraid I was lost in thought." He paused, licking his beak. "Is there…anything you require at this time?"

"Nope. We are all good." He sighed. It was a relief that the secretary wasn't upset with him. Or that he died.

"Good, well…" his fingers writhed as he made another bow, "I must once again issue an apology. I am unfortunately very busy, and I must be away. If there is anything you require, please don't hesitate to call upon me. I will do my very best to assist you." That came out faster than normal, and Barney was once again left with the feeling that something was wrong.

"Okay, well…uh, thanks for stopping by."

Eberhard was gone before he even finished the sentence.

"Boreas preserve us all!" Eberhard's mind screamed at him. Lady Hardwind's suspicions had been right! How could he have missed the signs?!

The way he guarded his book, his cagey nature in regards to romance with her Ladyship, even the moments he somehow knew who was approaching him without looking at them.

Orion Falls, Lady Grace Fairheart's personal friend, was an enchanter. Likely the same enchanter that repaired Celestia's gate.

What did that mean?!

Storming into his rooms, panic flogging at his paws, he told the guard on duty to allow no one to bother him unless he expressed to have them come himself.

Slamming his temporary study door shut, he set to pacing. He had to think this through; the fate of a good pony's life could depend on how his evaluation of Orion went.

Starting with the moments he had first learned his name.