Chapters Author's Note
A new chapter! In only a couple of weeks too!
Hey all, this would have been posted Friday. Eastern Standard time. But sadly me and the gf got Covid of all things. We are fine. Really don't noticed it much but the occasional cough.
You will notice in this chapter a great deal has changed from the original. But the main story plot has remained the same. I hope you enjoy the revamped chapter.
ANNOUNCEMENT.
Once Chapter 3 has been posted, the old book will be deleted from my page. I don't believe it should be kept around to confuse other new readers, and as I look at it, it often gives me pain to see how badly I was doing back then. Thank you for your Understanding.
Well that's it for now, thanks for reading. Please leave a like and a comment if ya can, I love hearing from you guys.
Peace!
Complications of Youth
The sound of foals screaming and laughing in the playground filled the afternoon air. Their joy and youthful exuberance belied the humbleness of their lives. The morning had brought heavy rain, that still lingered in the air even now, and held a slightly muggy weight that did nothing to deter their enthusiasm as they chased each other about the recently rebuilt playground equipment.
Star Shine looked longingly at her favorite, the monkey bars, knowing because of the morning rain that she would not likely get a chance to play on them again since they were still wet from the painting that was done late yesterday afternoon. The humidity did nothing to speed the drying process, thus denying her of this final pleasure.
She would miss them terribly.
But even knowing that she was never going to be able to see them again also filled her with an odd sense of joy. She was getting adopted this week!
Her heart soared at the thought.
The white filly almost danced into the air at the renewed thought spreading warmth in her cheeks and bringing tears to her eyes. She had beaten the odds! Her wings fluttered excitedly.
It wasn't like foals didn't get adopted. But colts were the ones more sought after than fillies were. The reason was apparent even to her young mind. At twelve years old she was painfully aware of how few male ponies there were out there in the world. It wasn't exactly as if they were a rare sight, but if you looked into a crowd you could easily spot the disparity between sexes at a simple glance.
In school, they had been told that the average ratio between mares and stallions across the nation of Equestria were somewhere around four to one. In some places it got as high as nine to one, should a pony venture out to countries such as Prance, that number increased again. It had always been like that, according to her history teacher Mr. Born. Much of it was blamed upon the almost rampant battles and campaigns of war before all the ponies had finally unified. Since then, they had never been able to catch back up. There had been gains of course, but it seemed like it was going to take several millennia before that disparity was redressed.
Thus, since the early days of Equestria, mares have always outnumbered stallions.
This had led to stallions taking a more passive role in the day to day life of ponies as a whole. Mares had become far more protective of their male counterparts, often discouraging more aggressive and dangerous career paths. It was deemed too risky to let that portion of the population risk themselves, instead pushing them to more light work, should they want to work at all.
It was cruel to think of them as a commodity, but reality didn't give them much of a choice in this. Because of that, colts were often the first and fastest to get adopted. The encouragement to raise them in good solid herds was even sponsored by the government itself, by Princess Celestia's own decree! All of that had helped pull them back from the brink of societal collapse, or so Mr. Bone had said. This has brought the current ratio to what it is today.
These days, while rare, you could now find stallions taking up careers in industry, a place that had been dominated for years by mares, and even the military. Though not in any official combat capacity. It was all so complicated and she barely understood half of the reasons that had been given.
Still, her mind refocused on the fact that she was being picked up tomorrow, and she had hoped to have one more play at the bars. Sadly it seemed not to be. Though she was holding out for a park wherever she was to go to live. And her own room.
The giddiness threatened to claim her again. Her own room!
One of her white ears flicked, the sounds of an argument brewing intermixed with carousing sounds of play, drew her attention to the picnic tables set up near the building where they all lived . Turning she saw the majority of the colts currently residing in Manehattan's Orphanarium, standing in a crescent around one particular foal. The longest staying resident of the orphanage.
Orion Falls.
The thought of his name made her fur rise on end. He had been here since she had first arrived two years ago, and rumors spoke of him being here long after her departure. At first glance he wasn't a bad looking colt, though his coloring wasn't something to catch the eye. At eight years he was unusually tall for his age, topping her by at least four inches, but otherwise fairly normal for a pony.
Where she was solid white like a cloud, he was black as tar. Instead of wings, he bore a single curving horn on his forehead. Many unicorns had winding patterns in their horns, and he was no exception, save for the strange way the concentric patterns that had formed. There seemed to be no real reason for it other than some lines formed into swirls that somehow still connected to each other. Pretty. But eye wrenching for those who first see him.
His orange mane held no few brown strands intermixed throughout that gave it a warm, fire-like quality. Like embers in a pit. His long ears poked out of the often uncombed mass, he seemed to forget often about doing more than run a quick brush through the tangled mass. It was lazy and he really should take better care of his appearance, but unlike his fellow pony, Orion tended not to be as fastidious about his appearance as others.
More to the point, he had proven that he was in fact, not a morning pony.
Often he would walk out of his shared room, with the entire tangle of mane sticking up as if a large dog had licked him furiously in the night. It was a hilarious sight that had caused her and many others to giggle.
His glare would cut the shared mirth short.
That was what gave her the shivers. His eyes were unlike any foal she had ever met.
Gray like the metal that made up a policemare's short sword that she had once seen, they also shared that familiar hard feeling. It was a disconcerting look, set in an otherwise foallike face.
But it wasn't his eyes or his terrible mane and tail keeping skills that made her and the others avoid him, they had even made efforts to ignore it, but his attitude was as horrendous as his bed head.
Rude was not in it. He would often go off on other foals for merely being in his way when they came home from school. Rumors swirled that he projected that attitude to everypony, including teachers! There had even been a fight, or so it was said. The details had been hidden but Orion had spent a month confined to one of the solitary rooms.
Worse, he was not ashamed! He had walked out of there grumbling about being put back in with the rest of the "inmates". That had been so offensive that it had earned a glare from even Star, and a week doing chores for him on top of being sent to his room early for the duration by Miss Sapphire.
Watching the group, it was easy to see what was happening, or what was beginning to happen as she spotted Swift Charge heading it up the cluster of five.
At thirteen Swift was short and lithe, expected considering the pegasi were the smallest of the three races. There were of course exceptions, but overall they had always been small. Like her, he was white as well, with a platinum blonde mane where hers was yellow, they could have been twins in the right light. Those soft golden yellow eyes of his often made her heart flutter. He would no doubt be a mare killer when he was older, so long as whoever he set his eyes on didn't know him for the utter flankhole that he was.
Her mouth twisted at the word, she never did like swearing never mind doing it in her own head.
Two earth pony brothers separated just shy of a year, took to his orders easily enough.
Boulder, no secondary name had ever been given, was the older of the two. Though his younger brother, Rocky Jester, was the same height.
Both were near identical copies of one another as well. Dark brown, almost black, manes with brown non-descriptive fur. Though Boulder had a white streak down the middle of his face and his left forearm was wrapped in the same. She had never seen that before on a pony.
From what Miss Sapphire had said, it was a recessive trait not seen in most ponies in this day and age. A hold over from ponies of a different culture entirely. Still that bluff face was rather appealing. To bad he was dumb as the stone he was named after.
Rocky however, was the more intelligent of the two, with blue green eyes that always seems to hold a joke in them. He was often trying to make others around him laugh.
The brothers had arrived last year and fell easily in with him, becoming his lackeys with little prompting. Swift was a smooth talker if nothing else. Still they didn't seem to share the pegasus colt's distaste for Orion, so it was strange to see them side against the black pony so often.
Their arrival had been quiet, if not Rocky's mouth. Star had tried to get them to open up but all they ever did was either deflect with mumbles, or just stare at her blankly till she went away.
Still the fact that they fell so easily into the role of bully supporters bothered her.
Swift himself seemed to have taken a personal grudge with Orion. She did not understand why since he had arrived around the time she had, and now he had dragged others into his animosity for the black unicorn.
The other two colts, unicorns themselves, who were barely six and stayed mostly out of the way of everypony, merely watched and did not say a thing. They had arrived less than a month ago, during the month of Jubilee. Rumor was their herd died to griffon raiders when the Winter Wrap-up for the coming spring had begun.
They always stared wide eyed at everything around them, often jumping at the most muted of sounds like He Himself was upon them.
Her heart had gone out to the pair, and she had decided she would help guide them as they grew, at least till they were eventually adopted. In that moment, her cutie mark blossomed upon both of her flanks. A bright star shining on what looked like a path through trees.
Star instantly knew what it had meant. A guiding light for those lost. She was to help ponies find their way in life. The party was the best thing to happen to her. Or so she had thought.
Less than a week later, an offer of adoption had been submitted, and Miss Sapphire had given her the details on her would-be family. Her mark had come later than normal but not outside what anypony would expect. She had feared that she might never find her destiny, trapped as she was in the orphanage.
More arguing, Swift wasn't smiling anymore and Lazy Rain was swiftly leaving her seat where she had often perched, attempting to catch Orion's eye.
For some reason that Star could not fathom, that filly had somehow formed a crush on the abrasive colt.
Should she intervene? Rumors floated in school and here that he had an absolutely nasty temper. She began to walk toward them. Perhaps she could guide them to a peaceful solution, guiding was her special talent afterall.
Approaching she started to pick up sentences. Angry sentences.
"...how could you not be mad?! Or intimidated?!" Arms shaking at the annoyed colt. Swift was scowling at Orion viscously
"Mad? At you?" The unicorn's voice always had this mature air to it, as if he knew so much more than anypony else and could prove it if challenged. Which was likely true considering she had heard from several others that he was the smartest colt in the orphanage.
"Yes!" Swift hissed back. Fists now held against his sides.
"Pfft no! Same goes for you trying to be intimidating. You couldn't intimidate a rabbit, let alone me. No, mostly I'm just annoyed. Annoyed at you for thinking you could actually insult me. Hornhead? Really? That's the best you can do?"
Star blinked in surprise. Calling somepony a Hornhead was a very bad insult.
Orion had turned in his seat, planting both hooves to the outside of the bench, his right hand holding the book he had been reading in an iron grip.
"You...you!" The white pegasus trembled.
"Look idiot, you're the one that came over here and started shit. Not me. You only have yourself to blame for looking like the moron here. Now why don't you buzz off before you make a bigger fuckhead of yourself." He waved his hand dismissively, turning away.
"Your herd didn't want you!" Screeched Swift.
Orion turned back and gestured around them. "Dude, I'm gonna go with you being blind, and maybe mentally impaired, cause no one is willfully that retarded. The majority of us are here because something happened to our families. Whether natural or unnatural." He shook his head. "Go away, Swift, go toss yourself in a trash can. 'Cause ya trash."
The pegasus shook with rage, Star increased her pace. But it was too late.
At a shout from the pegasus, Rocky moved forward, an almost apologetic look on his face as he reached to grab Orion.
It happened far too fast.
The book that had been held so tightly in his hand swung up and cracked the poor earth pony right in the eye, sending him hooves over head into the ground. He didn't get up.
She wanted to shout in surprise, but instead her voice was seized by terror, what was happening?! Boulder had leapt over his brother, anger painting his face as he swung a balled up fist aimed square at the now standing colt's nose.
The sound of a branch breaking, and he fell back clutching at a bent forearm as he joined his sibling in the dirt.
Swift never even got to flap his wings once.
Boulder and Star, both screamed.
Azure's afternoon was swiftly going downhill as one of the most boring afternoons in the history of afternoons. She yawned into her hand.
Everything was going smoothly.
Foals were out in the yard playing. No pony looked to be getting bullied as was common with the recent influx of orphans this summer. Ponies will always establish a hierarchy, it was much easier to determine in their youth than it would be later in life, but it was often less antagonistic.
But even the bullies were quiet today. A good thing.
Star Shine's paperwork had gone effortlessly. Her new herd had all the necessary information to file the day they applied.
Even the assigned class had all been done beforehand, before they even applied. A room had been stuffed with furniture and clothes, and now we're filing their petition for their new addition to be approved of by the local government. The city's attorney, Honey Rain, was on her way this afternoon to finalize the paperwork.
Tonight was Star's last evening in Manehattan's Orphanarium, a bittersweet day. Miss Sapphire had already organized a going away party for the little filly this evening.
It was an amazing afternoon, looking to be a heart filling evening, and it was so Celestia bucking boring.
Not for the first time she eye'd the latest issue of Mareopolitan that had come in her mail this morning. And not for the first time she chastised herself for considering it.
"No. No! You know what'll happen the moment we pick that up. One article will turn into twenty and before we know it the afternoon will be gone! It'll be six and Star Shine will suffer for it." She sighed. Then began to smile to herself.
Star Shine's cutiemark almost certainly would be sending her down a similar path to Azure's. Though maybe instead of administrative, she would be more hands on. That would be good.
She had most certainly lucked out that her purpose manifested when it did.
The Path family was known far and wide as a very charitable herd. Often hosting events to help those in need. Truth be told they had taken an interest in her last month when they had begun to help those two unicorn colts settle in.
They had actually brought the pair in themselves, but felt they were ill equipped to handle the mental care that they would need in order to help them.
There was already a scheduled set of therapy sessions set for the two. To assess the damage and to see what needs to be done to bring them back to Harmony.
Star Shine however had shown such passion to help them adjust, that not only had her mark arrived in spectacular fashion, but in front of them when they had been about to leave.
A very lucky filly indeed.
She picked up her coffee, the only true friend she had in this world, and for a moment just mused at what it would be like to have a foal of her own with such promise. With a sour grimace she took a sip, she still had not enticed a stallion or a herd in that direction.
The twin shrieks of terror and pain startled her so badly she dropped her coffee all over her desk. Soaking Star Shine's paperwork entirely.
"Bucking Tartarus!" She yelled in panic, before grabbing a towel with a brief cast of 'Capesso' . "Dammit this is ruined," she groaned as she mopped up as much of the black liquid as she could.
"What happened? Who screamed?" Cloudy Sapphire stormed into the office from the supply closet. She must have been taking inventory again.
They never really got enough of anything from the city.
Her shrill, slightly warbly voice still made Azure wince internally every time she heard it. She would have hoped that after three years she would have gotten used to it, but that had proven untrue as she gritted her teeth at the unpleasant noise.
It was a voice to make dogs howl and cats yowl. It was also likely the reason she was still herdless. Poor mare, and at her age.
"No dammit, that wasn't me. Star Shine's paperwork is going to have to be redone however," she sighed dejectedly.
Miss Sapphire stared at her flatly. "Are you not a unicorn?"
"Yes I am, no I do not know the charm spells to remove liquid from paper. Plus my skill with magic in general is rather limited. I never went to the more prestigious schools to learn, my family couldn't afford it." She ineffectually blotted the paper trying to salvage the thoroughly ruined parchments.
"Oh….sorry." Cloudy said sheepishly. "Wait, never mind that!" She snapped, remembering what had drawn her from the backrooms. Spinning around, she ran toward the large bay window on the second floor of the orphanage. "Where did that scream come from!?"
Dumping the now ruined paperwork into the bin, Azure stood and made her way over to her employer at a much calmer pace. Eyes scanning the play yard.
"It sounded like a colt, likely fell from a tree again." She mumbled.
It happened often enough, and usually meant a bruise and somepony walking tenderly for a bit. But as she started her visual search she couldn't help but notice all the foals staring in one direction.
Their little faces were painted in fear.
A gasp from Miss Sapphire drew the shorter mare's attention to what had captured her attention. Azure's mouth dropped in shock.
The recent two little colts were running and stumbling away from the picnic tables, crying in absolute terror.
On the ground, laying still, was Rocky Jester. His right eye slowly swelling, taking on a purple hue, a book laying near his head. His brother was writhing on the ground clutching his left arm and screaming at the top of his lungs, the arm bent back at an unnatural angle.
Before the pair stood Orion Falls, face contorted in a rictus snarl of rage as he pummeled Swift Charge's face in. Blood flew with each blow as he held the poor colt by the throat. "Oh buck me….Orion…. No no no no!" She screamed leaving her employer, still gaping out the window, running out the office and down the steps.
He had had enough of their shit.
He had avoided confrontation as much as possible. There had been a couple of incidents. The colt from science class spilling his project all over him being one such case. The chemical components had been thankfully benign except for a slight burning irritation, but smacking him like he was a bitch had drawn the line.
In retaliation he had hit the fool so hard with a backhand that he broke his nose. A month's worth of detention was worth it. He hadn't been bothered since. He couldn't remember the reasoning behind why the fucker had antagonized him to begin with. There was the verbal shouting match he had with Principal Struck as well. But that hadn't devolved into anything more than that.
In the back of his mind the more logical side of him was screaming at him to stop. But it was Lizard Brain that was in full control now. And Lizard Brain had ordered all prisoners to be executed at dawn, with extreme prejudice.
So he was setting about doing just that.
The day had started out so well too. He had first finally managed to get his hands on some mechanic manuals on airships. He was enjoying his time out in the sun despite the muggy heat. And Lazy Rain was only annoying in presence, not of the mouth.
It was a good day.
Then Swift Charge had to come and fuck that all up.
Swift was an angry colt that had been clear as crystal when he had first arrived two years ago. Orion had yet to determine what set him off so badly, but he was often the victim of his venting, and it took everything in him not to lash out.
But it was easy to know the cause of today's aggression. He must have been passed over for adoption. Again.
Swift has been crowing about it and strutting about like the cock he was all last week. Orion hadn't paid any attention as he didn't care. So it must have been a severe blow if he was being this dickish.
He wondered at what had caused the potential adopters to back off. Likely it was his charming personality.
None of it mattered to him though. He had been on the receiving end more than once of his verbal abuse, ignoring it. But trying to sick his little lap dogs on him had been the last straw. And of course Lizard Brain decided to activate and all hell had broken loose, the tiny part of his mind still screaming at him to stop.
The sudden push of magic forcing him away brought his attention back to the present. There was a distinct lack of throat in his hand, he squeezed his hand in the air reflexively.
His ears picked up crying, and he slowly blinked in surprise as he took in his surroundings, red slowly fading from his vision.
"Oh I went way too far…." A duh echoed in his now still mind.
The other kids in the yard had beat a hasty retreat to hide behind playground equipment and trees that were scattered around the yard. Lazy Rain wasn't even looking at him, instead having her head buried in her hands.
Maybe with this she'll finally stop hovering around him.
His gaze drifted downward, he had gone farther than he realized.
Rocky was out cold, his right eye had completely swollen shut now, and his brother, oh he actually felt bad for breaking Boulder's arm like that. The poor kid was still howling.
How had he not heard that?!
The worst was Swift. The colt was being held gently in a field of red magic. That magic belonged to Miss Azure Dream. It had always struck him funny that the mare was blue all over, but her magic and eyes were as red as wine.
She was frantically dabbing at what was left of the poor colt's face. The steady breathing was a good sign, even if there was the occasional fount of blood and ragged cough.
He'll be fine.
She turned to look at him in horror.
"What were you thinking?!" Her scream echoed into the still yard, mixing with the cries of fearful foals.
He doubted he could offer up the Lizard Brain defense and be accepted.
Azure waited impatiently as the flying ambulance made it's circuit before landing on the street outside the orphanage. Even with the advances of communication, jarred dragon flame specifically, it still took time for them to make their way there.
Honey Rain had been turned away when she had arrived an hour ago. In the confusion and panic of early afternoon, Star's adoption paperwork had been forgotten. So with nothing to do, she headed back to her office. Fortunately she had accepted the vague excuse of an accident having happened, and would likely tell no tales about what had happened here.
The massive four wheeled white carriage swept low along the cobblestone street. The large red cross pattern giving a clue as to who and what they were. It always amazed her that pegasi we're capable of moving fast enough to get something so awkward into the air, helped by the little stubs of fixed wings attached between the wheels.
All hospitals were required to have a landing and take off strip for those aerial ambulance teams.
She had spotted them from the bay window of the receiving room, hastily she exited the orphanage to greet them and guide them inside where they were needed.
As she watched the hard iron banded wheels begin to bounce off the stones, her mind wandered.
After today, it was imperative that she learn first aid skills, both mundane and magical. At least spells that dulled pain. She had to listen to the poor trio of colts groan in agony for the better part of an hour.
Orion had gone quietly into the isolation room. He never spoke a word, but there was regret on his face. Her heart went out to him.
According to Lazy Rain and a few others, the bullies had only been quiet, but active. Swift had instigated, but Rocky and Boulder were the ones to attack.
This hadn't been his first incident, but unlike the others this one crossed a line where there was no quick way back.
"Cloudy Sapphire?" One of the MTs asked, startling her. Focusing on them, she was glad to see that there were three of them, not counting the air team of four pegasi that pulled the air carriage.
"Ah, no. My name is Azure Dream. Her assistant." Well she was one of them, the others were on holiday. She quickly opened the door to allow them entry. "They're in here."
It didn't take them long to get gurneys under them, though they ultimately decided to leave Rocky there with a cold compress over his eye and a brief healing spell to reduce the swelling.
"Make sure he gets plenty of rest and use this," she pressed a packet into her hands, likely medication, "if his pain should spike. But it seems to be a simple black eye and nothing I have scanned indicates worse."
Azure helped the woozy colt up, and led him back to his room as the MTs continued their work on the other two. He was quick to lie down, sleep claiming him before she had even made it out the door.
They had kept him awake just in case there was something else that was wrong. He had been hit very hard.
Placing the medicine for him in the medical office she returned to the receiving room to find both Boulder and Swift strapped to their gurneys. The former whimpered as they adjusted the sling to accommodate his broken forearm.
The latter must have lapsed into unconsciousness, an IV drip in his arm. His face was a mass of bandages.
"Are they going to be okay?" She asked tentatively.
"A simple break on the earth pony. He should be released with a cast in a few days. The pegasus...well he is gonna take a little longer. He has mane thin fractures on the bone structure of his nose and left eye socket." She paused, adjusting a strap before the two were moved away toward the ambulance. "Miss Dream, it is clear these colts were assaulted. I am going to have to file a report on this. Whom, and more importantly, why?"
Azure hesitated only for a moment. Before relaying what she knew. She tried to paint it in a better light, but it was hard considering the grievous injuries the three had received.
"An eight year old colt did all of this..." She murmured. "You understand that the report I have to file will be sent out to many agencies. This is rather serious, and the CFP will want to know about this."
The blue mare's heart stuttered. "The CFP!"
The Council of Foal Protections was anything but, the organization got its start three hundred years ago when Princess Celestia first enacted her Herd First initiatives.
At the time Equestria was suffering from a low birthrate epidemic. Part of the sweeping reforms she implemented was prioritizing and even rewarding herds that adopted parentless foals.
The group acted with almost no government oversight, or any kind of check against their practices. They had the Church of Sol's backing and that was worse, as neither group has any official capacity within the nation.
Their motto, 'No foal left behind, no family torn in two,' was as hollow as the promises they made every year to help more. It was whispered that bits went in and never came out.
When they did do their due diligence, it was their way, with often disastrous results.
Fillies, and very rarely colts, that caused trouble often came back from one of their rehabilitation facilities traumatized to the point of being incapable of functioning. It took months before they could sleep a night without screaming themselves awake again.
No pony could ever say what actually happened to them. The foals were too scared to say a word against them.
For unicorns, it was worse.
The organization was run almost entirely by themselves, and they took umbrage with anypony that managed to paint their race in a negative light. Especially their own.
For Orion it would be an inconceivable fate. She shuddered at the implications.
"Is there any way you can delay? Even for only a day?" The unintended rhyme did little to lift her sour mood. Judging by the glare on the mare's face it did just as little.
"I would be remiss in my duties if I did such a thing. You should be ashamed to even suggest it." Ah, a follower of Sol. She wished she could take back her words, that would go into her report as well.
"I am sorry, I understand." A pit formed in Azure's stomach. What were they to do?
"I would be repenting if I were you, if you truly wish to apologize." The MT shook her head. "I should be going. Expect a visit soon. Sun guide you."
With that they left, and her hopes with them.
Swiftly she raced back inside.
Cloudy Sapphire watched Orion through the one way mirror. The frown that had creased her features had been there for over an hour now. This whole situation had her wound up tight with worry. The colt himself sat in the corner of the room on the floor. He had gone in calmly, but the moment the door closed, the black furred foal had picked up both chairs in his magic and shattered them on the walls.
It had been an effort for him, his horn barely coming to life in a wavering gold and black glow. He had panted heavily as he made his way over to the corner and sat down. With his knees drawn up and head hanging between, he had not moved a muscle since.
Cloudy suspected he felt supremely guilty over his role in the events. Between her and Azure, they had investigated what had happened between him and the others from amongst the rest of the foals. Only two being reliable sources of information.
Star Shine had said she heard arguing and was actually going to attempt to calm things down between the colts.
Lazy Rain backed up her observation. The poor filly had been trying again to talk to the unicorn, and had witnessed the start of the events. Swift really did take the loss of being adopted hard.
The insult Orion had used that caused them to attack was rude, but not what one would think was terrible. But for a young foal it might be the worst insult imaginable. "What does 'fuck' mean?" It wasn't the first time he had used that term, and she vaguely remembered hearing a griffon using something similar at the city's docks when she was little. But she still had no idea what it meant, though she had her suspicions.
But it begged the questions about where he had learned it, and why he did so.
Orion Falls often spoke with a maturity that could only be found in ponies twice his age. His language was wildly colorful, especially his insults.
The door behind her opened up disturbing her from her musings.
"Well?"
"It's not good, Miss Sapphire. Rocky is okay, he is in bed now. But both Boulder and Swift are on their way to Manehattan General. The MTs will be filing a report with both the guard, and the CFP…." She trailed off, worry leadened Azure's words.
The earth pony mare hissed in vexation.
"I was afraid of that," Cloudy sighed heavily, at a loss as to what to do. If the CFP got ahold of him, he may actually die. His stubbornness and flat refusal to bend on what he thinks is right will either shatter in their care, or he will be one of those that just didn't come back.
It was a fear she had since the moment he stepped hoof into her orphanage. He had been antagonistic and aloof from the very beginning. The two years since had shown little change.
Orion avoided others like he feared catching something. Instead he chose the company of books in quiet corners of the library. Reading some very advanced titles.
He never played with anypony. Never made friends in the slightest even when others worked so hard to get in his good graces, like Lazy.
"All it took was a...a brawl like this... pointless." She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"To be fair Ma'am, this wasn't the first time, and he has shown great restraint up till now. We both know this was particularly bad." Azure defended.
It was particularly bad. Swift and his clique had started in on him that very morning during breakfast. It was clear now why Orion had been so hesitant to leave the library.
The young pegasus wasted no time in setting in on him the moment he stepped out the door.
Lazy Rain had attempted to steer the colt in another direction, but to no avail. Orion had had enough and fired back and they attacked him for his trouble. He was all over Swift before the poor colts' wings had a chance to get him away from danger. According to every foal out there, it had happened in seconds. At first she believed they had exaggerated, but given the extent of damage she was not so sure anymore.
"Great restraint or no, it is very likely come morning the CFP will be on our doorstep with a dozen guards and a warrant. The court will likely side with them easily in this case." She turned from her watch of the colt. "There is little you and I can do to stop this."
"There has to be something!" It was a shout, a whisper of one but still a shout. "You and I both know what awaits him if they take him away."
"No, we don't. But….we suspect. I just don't…." She trailed off. Thoughts whirling in her head in a desperate attempt to find a solution.
"Daisy!"
It had been a couple of months since she last spoke to her friend by mail, Daisy Evergarden. Their last subject of conversation had been Orion.
Daisy had actually offered to take him in. Much in part to his academic capabilities. He was extraordinarily intelligent despite the more belligerent behavior would suggest.
She wanted to give him an opportunity to get a higher education than what was available to him in Manehattan. But the timing always seemed off when it came to sending him away so nothing ever came of it.
As the idea fermented in her mind, hope blossomed in her heart. But a tinge of doubt remained. There was no way to know if she had room for him, but there was little choice now.
"There is a chance. White's Orphanarium in Canterlot. Daisy Evergarden, the Directress that manages it, has offered to take him in a few months ago. This may be the only opportunity he has." As she spoke Azure's eyes widened with astonishment. Cloudy had never mentioned her friend's offer.
No pony said anything as they turned to look at him again. He had not moved, but his little hands were clenched into fists.
"We will need to leave tonight. As late as possible. He and I will take the train out. Would you mind watching over the little ones while I'm gone? It shouldn't be more than two days. And Dawn is supposed to be back tomorrow." Dawn Dew was one of the other caretakers under her.
"Yes, I can do this. I wish I could go with you, but one of us needs to be here. Plus you know Mrs. Evergarden better than I." The regret in her voice spoke volumes.
Her assistant actually liked Orion despite his aggressive nature. She would often find her speaking to him in the library, explaining things to him that most foals already knew.
That was another thing. As surprising as how smart he was, he was somehow ignorant of the world almost entirely when it came to social cues and history. But she chalked that up to where he came from. Growing up on the street would do that to a pony she supposed.
Still they had formed a bond of sorts, not friendship but a bond nevertheless, and Cloudy was loathed to break that up.
"I'm sorry Azure, if there was a better way or we had more time…" her half formed consolation drifted off without a response. They stood awkwardly.
"Right, well then, I must make sure the foals get dinner. If you need help packing please let me know." The blue mare smiled, a smile that did not touch her eyes, and made her way out the door.
Cloudy turned once again back to the one way mirror, and squared her shoulders.
"Stupid stupid stupid!"
It had been a reigning mantra in his head for the better part of two hours. Intermittently interrupted with "dumb fucker" and "they were just kids you ass".
He had been berating himself and his loss of self control. He should have known better after all. Now three colts were likely on a trip to the hospital, one beaten to near unrecognizable mush. But at the same time, the idea of them making him their bitch just pissed him off even more. So when the assault had finally come, he just ended up letting loose years of frustration and anger on them. And that was the problem. His total lack of self control. It has gotten him into trouble more than once. That and his desire to avoid pain.
His ears perked up and turned toward the door as he heard the tell-tale sound of a latch being lifted.
Orion looked up as Miss Sapphire entered the room, stern look upon her teal green face. Her blue eyes betrayed her worry.
"They gonna be okay?"
She started. The question had either not been expected, or she hadn't expected him to say anything at all.
"Yes," she said hesitantly, "Rocky is here. His injuries were minor compared to the other two. Both Swift and Boulder had to be taken to the emergency room by the MTs. Their injuries….are more severe."
".....how screwed am I?" She blinked again before replying.
"A report is being filed with the guard and the CFP, and likely a few other agencies. We will likely be getting a visit from the first two tomorrow morning." She said slowly. It was clear she was gauging his mood.
"Well shit. Really fucked it good didn't I?" He hung his head. He was going to go to pony juvie.
"I'm not sure what that means. But yes, you are in trouble." She sighed. "There is a solution. You don't have much choice to accept, but I suspect it will be easy to do considering the alternatives."
His head jerked up, gray eyes eyeing her warily.
"And that is?"
"Canterlot. I have a friend there who runs an orphanage of her own. She is aware of your situation. Last we spoke she offered to take you in. I should have taken her up on the offer months ago but I was hesitant to move you." She glanced at the shattered remains of the two chairs. He blushed in embarrassment, like many things in his life, he just couldn't help himself. "Still, you have an opportunity now. Go pack your things, we leave at midnight."
She turned, opened the door and left, leaving it open.
Orion sat there a moment more, collecting his thoughts. He had no real choice in the matter. Stay and go to juvie, or leave and go to a new location where he would likely cause more problems if he didn't reign in his temper. It was no one's fault but his own anyway. He landed himself in this mess. All to avoid pain.
"Okay, so all I have to do is bottle it all up until I can safely let loose where I won't get in trouble. Simple right?"
It was not so simple. He had always been short fused, and given his current situation it had only gotten worse. His grandparents had attempted to curb that violent nature with little success.
Standing he dusted off the simple brown pants he wore and adjusted the tanned shirt. He had no choice but to lock down his temper as hard as he could. Or at least find an appropriate outlet. If he didn't, he would ruin this chance as well. And he had a feeling there wouldn't be another one.
It hadn't taken Orion long to pack. Sadly he would have to leave the manuals he had managed to get behind. But other than a spare set of iron shoes and five sets of clothes he didn't really have much. Orphan's can't afford luxury items.
He mostly just sat, trying to think things through. He couldn't keep going like this. The decision to keep others at arm's length had, at the time, been a wise choice. But that had made him an oddity.
He hated kids, and he was one. But that self isolation that he enforced on himself also made him a target. No matter the people, no one liked the strange or weird. And while adults are often more forgiving, even understanding, kids just don't have the rationale to understand that some people are weird.
He would have to change, though he wouldn't be able to do a one-eighty. But he had no choice in this.
The clock in his room chimed midnight and he gathered his things. With one last look he shut the door on his bedroom. A bedroom that was no longer his.
Miss Sapphire was waiting for him in the foyer at the foot of the stairs. No sign of Miss Dream. Just as well. She'd likely cry and he would feel even worse than he was already.
"Do you have everything?"
"Didn't have much to begin with, so yeah." A flash and a peal of thunder quickly followed. That wasn't ominous in any way. Though rain was called for tonight. He was grateful that he remembered to pack his raincoat.
Without any further words they set out. The sky threatened but nothing fell.
"Wonder how long that's gonna last…"
Looking up he could see between flashes of lightning showing pegasi flitting amongst the clouds, last minute adjustments before they let loose. He shook his head at it all, despite knowing for a few years that they could do that, it still didn't take away the awe he held for it. The idea of casually controlling weather patterns by hand was as bizarre as waking up and finding he had a horn on his head.
They made a beeline from the orphanage doorstep and into the city proper. She constantly checked to make sure he still followed behind her. To be honest she was setting a very fast pace. He cursed his short legs as he was practically running to keep up.
Buildings passed by quickly, the shadows of night hiding most of the red brick and iron fenced features unless the sky lit up.
It puzzled him at first as to why she was keeping to the shadows so much, till he realized that they were essentially escaping the city ahead of the law. That made the shadows seem even more dangerous, anyone could be hiding within them, the guard being only one.
"How long does it take for bureaucracy to work here?" It was a question he had asked himself a couple of times. All the books he had read on the subject had not given any specifics on that question.
His musings were cut short as he quite literally ran into Miss Sapphire's backside with a grunt.
Looking past her he noticed that they had arrived at the train station. He had only seen it once before when he first arrived in Manehattan as he and his escort had passed it by coach. It was just north of the airship docks that he had arrived at two years prior.
The squat but long red brick structure seemed to sit like a toad in the dark despite being well lit. The lamp posts outside glowed a steady yellow. The crystal gems they used in substitute of an open flame fascinated him.
However, none of that was why she had stopped.
Outside the station were ten or so guards. They were in front of the building and patrolling the street as well. Looking into the dark with suspicious eyes.
"Oh shit…." He whispered.
Miss Sapphire just grunted and mumbled something about a plan B. Carefully the pair turned around as to not attract their notice and made their way back down the street, hooking a left instead of heading back the way they had come.
Orion was more alert than before, pushing his buzzing thoughts of what ifs and idle speculations to the back of his mind as he kept checking behind them.
Twice they had to alter course due to a patrol. In the dark, even with well lit streets, the city had become a warren of passage ways. It made it difficult to predict where a group of them might sprout up. Every time, Cloudy Sapphire would tsk quietly and frown worriedly.
After an hour he realized they were actually making their way outside the city and began to stare at her in worry. Was she planning to walk all the way to Canterlot?
From what he had seen in most of his geography books, the city was a good two week away just walking it. It wasn't something he was looking forward to doing and he was not sure his body would be able to keep up. Then again, he may have no choice with the furtive glances she kept shooting back at him, and more often, behind them. Whatever had her so upset was likely something he didn't want to contemplate.
Suddenly she stopped at a moderately large, two story brick home. They had come to what he would call the suburban area of the city. There were many like the one before them, but each had a yard of their own, fenced off with iron and brick. At the side of the house was a large carriage that was black as the night.
"Wait here." She whispered, then marched up and began to pound on the large door as if the hounds of hell were coming.
"Why not ring a gong on top of it." He grumbled from where leaned against a mailbox.
The door violently swung open and from the darkness of the foyer came a burly earth pony mare. "What in Tartarus do ya want!? Do you know what time it is?!" She bellowed.
Orion snuck up and peeked around the side of Miss Sapphire and had to grin a little. The mare was tall, as seemed usual for female ponies of her race, and had raven black hair. Her yellow fur stood in sharp contrast and, with the dark night shirt she wore, made it easy to see the pale yellow side boob that threatened to spring free with each shake of her fist.
He couldn't help the grin from slowly growing wider on his face. It has been awhile since he has seen this much tit-flesh. Ponies were a bit prudish, which was a surprise considering how much fur they had.
"Fuck me she's got some big ass knockers."
"I am so sorry for the trouble. I know it's late but as I understand it, you will take fare at any time of day." The Directress spoke quickly. "I am willing to pay extra but I need passage to Canterlot. Now." She finished in a rush.
The yellow mare was silent, blinking slowly as she came awake. "The flyer does say that...fine. Double the usual rate as you will be waking up me and most of my herd." Miss Sapphire didn't even try to negotiate as she dug into her purse. "But why not use the train? It doesn't take nearly as long and it runs regularly."
Without missing a beat, "It's broken down. Something about a twisted track or something I'm not sure, as I am not...whatever it is they are."
The mare just snorted. "Clearly. I'm Yellow Tracks by the way. Give me a bit to rouse the others and make sure the foals will be taken care of." She eyed Orion, who had not stopped looking at her tits, she grinned. "Got a good eyeful there colt?"
"Orion!" Cloudy screeched at him in a hushed whisper as she dolled out the bits into the tall mare's waiting palm.
His grin just stretched wider. "Hey she's got nice boobs, how the hell am I not supposed to appreciate that?" He fired back, chuckles threatening to erupt in his voice.
Yellow Brick just chortled. "Bold this one. You're gonna be trouble when you get older. Wait here." She walked back inside chuckling to herself.
"We will speak of this later!" Miss Sapphire hissed at him.
Thunder boomed again overhead as the first drops began to fall.
Pounding on the foyer door brought Azure down from her room just after two in the morning. Still in her nightgown she wrapped a housecoat around her, barely managing to knot the thing properly.
She was groggy and in no mood to deal with a late night drop off, but she would do her duty nevertheless.
Opening the door, she came fully awake as her heart sank.
On the stoop, in the pouring rain, stood Velvet Backwater. With at least two dozen of the Guard behind her.
"Good evening, Miss Dream. I'm here to pick up Mr. Falls." Venom dripped from every word. A smile adorned her lips, heat in her eyes. "We received word of what transpired here this afternoon, and the council and I have decided it was best to remove him before he did something else egregious."
She made to shove past Azure but she held her ground. "You have no warrant!" She had to buy as much time as she could.
"Oh! Silly me, but of course I do. I'm sure you know Gavel Hammer." The blue mare nodded her head, a sinking feeling in her gut. “Well he was kind enough to be willing to come in late this evening and sign this for us." With a curt hand, she practically shoved a warrant into her face.
The document was official. There was no way she could challenge it without a lawyer present, and before she could offer more protest, Backwater and the guards forced their way past her into the orphanage.
It didn't take them long to find he wasn't there, and waking up the foals in fright as well.
"Where is he?!" Velvet hissed in her face.
"I-I….." she swallowed hard, "I do not know. He was here when we all went to bed tonight." It was hard to lie to this mare's face, especially when a guard was holding her arms tightly. It was absolutely against the law, but she doubted anything would come from a complaint.
The guard's grip tightened.
Another guard, it was only now that she noticed they all bore the Church of Sol's crest, a sun held by two hands, burst into the room.
"Ma'am! The Directress is also missing!"
Backwater gaped at them. "What did you say?" She said quietly, barely heard even by Azure over the din of rainfall on the roof.
"She is not located in the facility. We suspect she left sometime before our arrival."
The councilmare practically shrieked in anger. She spun around on her hooves to glare at her.
"Did you know anything about this?!"
"I had no idea." She managed to belt out without stuttering.
Velvet stared at her for a little longer before snorting. "We are done here. You, will be hearing from us." She turned away and marched out the door of the reception room. "Notify the guard that he is loose, have them double the patrols, and somepony find out…" her voice trailed off as she walked away.
Azure Dream sagged to the floor, unable to keep her legs under her any longer. She could hear the younger foals crying as the older ones attempted to calm them, but she was not yet strong enough to provide her own comforting words.
She looked out the window as rain fell and lightning flashed.
"Please be safe…."
Thunder was the only response she received.
Reflections and Recriminations
Author's Note
TO THOSE WHO BOTHER TO READ THIS.
I am so sorry about how long this took. Between my gf's grandfather's death, and the funeral, and Covid, and a bunch of other nonsense that doesn't bare mentioning, I have been busy. Much to busy.
So I want to thank you for your time and patience (those of you who have had one or both)for hanging in there with me. Hopefully, we will be back on schedule. Such a schedule as it is. Before you is essentially chapter two of the rewrite and I stuffed it full of exposition and story driven plot. Not to be confused with pony plot, that is an entirely different genre.
Now I know what you're all thinking, shut the hell up and let us read. Well fine, I didn't want to give you an apology anyways.
Lmao, anyways, thanks for reading!
Peace.
Reflections and Recriminations
The flash of lightning and the crack of thunder accompanied, and drowned out, the yawn that stretched Cloudy's jaw as she fought to stifle it. Rain drummed on the roof of the cab, and she could clearly hear the curses of the coach team who were no doubt directing toward her and her ward. She would have to pay the team extra just on guilt alone of asking them to work in the rain and muck like this.
She grabbed onto the bar set above her as the whole carriage suddenly lurched to the side. A new set of explicatives and labored grunts issued forth as the vehicle was pulled back on the narrow trail proceeded up the ridge.
Righting herself, and muttering a quick prayer, she looked across the interior to a very bored looking colt. Orion had barely reacted to anything since they had climbed aboard. His hand casually threaded through a loop, he was busy muttering and shaking his head. As if arguing with himself, though with all the creaks of spring and wood, and the droning of rain thudding the roof, she could hear only a little of what he was saying.
He had been going on like that for some time. Cloudy could understand, even approve of his self recriminations, but the tone from what she could hear was rather self destructive. Another lurch of the carriage brought her attention back to their course.
The team had surprisingly chosen a less used road out of the city, instead of the main thoroughfare that ponies normally used. Perhaps they caught on to Cloudy's paranoia, and chose a path that took them higher into the mountain range. While the uneven roads did rock the carriage quite a bit, as well as the occasional sliding, it was still well maintained and clear of obstacles, the bare minimum to be sure, but still overall safe.
The rain just made everything more difficult. The scene however, was magnificent, even in the darkness. The height vantage had afforded her a view of the city, and she truly was grateful for it. Her hometown of many years was still charming to her, even after all the decades she had spent traversing its parks, the museums. It was no Canterlot, but its rustic visage certainly had its own charms.
Lights could be seen moving about Manehattan however. By the sheer number moving back and forth in the haze of rainfall, it would not be a stretch to say most of the Manehattan police force was out tonight. Though she couldn't be sure. The Directress had to chide herself, this could just be normal routine though doubt still loomed large in her mind.
The pit in her stomach told her that they hadn’t left a moment too soon. Glancing to Orion once more she could see him watching those lights now as well, still from his side of the coach, he had slid down in his seat and bore an apprehensive look upon his face.
As they had boarded the carriage he asked her a question. Though it had the air of knowing what she was already going to say.
"What are the chances of us getting out without getting caught?" He had pitched his voice low, enough that the others had not heard.
It was a testament, and a reminder to her, of how intelligent he truly was. Eight year olds did not ask those kinds of questions. They would be more upset by the fact that they were pulled out into the dead of night, during a downpour, and voice their complaints, loudly at that. He did not. He was quiet and reserved, and always saw more than those his age would notice.
"He is so smart," she had marveled then, as she often did when he made a statement or did something far beyond what was expected. She had avoided giving him an answer even as the carriage slowly made its way out of the city, but she was sure now that they would not be found, so she hoped. His intelligence bothered her, she had thought about it before, especially after his arrival and his subsequent interactions with those around him. But these were idle thoughts, she pushed that away. Firming her resolve she set herself to giving a long overdue lecture about the consequences of his actions.
"Orion, I hope you actually understand the ramifications of what has happened. I mean really understand them. What both I and Miss Dream were forced to do tonight, for you."
He glanced at her briefly, before his eyes swung back to the window, back to the sweeping lights.
"Yep."
She was incensed. Everything she was doing, Azure, Tartarus, even the pull team currently struggling with the rain slick road to deliver them to their destination and he could only acknowledge it with a one word affirmative?
"I do not believe that you do. You-" he cut her off.
"You're risking your license. Hell, even Miss Dream's, in an attempt to save me from what I can only assume is disastrous consequences of my actions. You all are risking your careers with no safety net. I know full well what's at stake." He fixed her with a knowing glare that stilled her tongue. Very un-foallike at all. "Do not equate my short response with me being my typical asshole self. I am fully aware of what I've done and the consequences should this escape attempt fail."
For a brief moment she just gaped at him. If not for the apparent size difference she wouldn't have been able to tell who the adult actually was. He held her eyes with his own as lightning flashed, illuminating the cabin once more, the thunder rattling the window panes. Then he turned his gaze back to the outside world and she shuddered, released from the spell those far too wise eyes had cast upon her.
There had been more than a few times he had fixed her with that look, and for the life of her she could not place why it bothered her so. It was like looking into the eyes of a predator, which was absolutely preposterous of course, but she could not shake the feeling that they gave her.
She watched him for a long time after that. Unable, and she admitted if only to herself, really unwilling to continue the conversation such as it was. It was clear he was still angry. At himself? Maybe, judging by his demeanor and words. Cloudy found her eyes eventually drifting to the outside world soon enough. Another yawn stretched her jaw as she realized how long this journey was likely to take. If the rain and mud of the roads was going to be a constant hindrance, that is. The train would have been faster of course, but she had not wanted to risk the chance that those guards had been looking for anything other than them.
The small pins on some of their lapels in the shape of a sun with hands that glinted in the street lamps was more than enough of a give away. Backwater must have already been waiting for something like this to occur, it was the only explanation she could think of.
Thinking about that just served to unnerve her further, so she turned her thoughts to the journey ahead, and more importantly, to whom she was going to see.
She felt a little guilty. Okay, more than a little guilty.
It had taken an emergency for her to visit her friend, rather than actually wanting to for the sheer pleasure of it. Daisy had been nothing short of a pillar of strength for her to lean against during school and her childhood. She repaid that by only writing occasionally once she had left Canterlot. They both were very busy mares, and that was understandable, but the only thing that truly separated them was a two day train ride. She had more than enough vacation time saved up, she could have made the trip at any time.
Deep down she knew the real reason she had stayed away. Her friend Daisy had gotten married just after high school, had foals, and was in a herd that supported and loved her. Cloudy, had yet to even attract the attention of a stallion. True, she was only forty-one, still young by earth pony standards, but it was enough to make her scream sometimes.
The directress's lips frowned a bit sadly. Even though an air carriage was only a little more expensive than a ticket on a train, she had no real excuse other than her jealousy.
That brought another to her mind.
Though she had known about the air service that the state provided, she just couldn't employ it this time. Pegasus would not fly in rain with a coach strapped to their backs, much less at night. They would have had to wait till morning, and by then they may have been caught.
One thought connected to another, and just like that, she was brought back to the reason for their late night departure. A quick glance saw him in the same position, more erect that before, staring out the window on the other side. He had resumed his mutterings.
Settling in her seat, she looked back to her own view, and watched Manehattan slowly retreat into the night. With nothing left to do, she thought about how she had first met this strange little pony that now sat across from her.
Cloudy sat in her office, it was nearly eight in the evening, an open folder in front of her with only a few lines sparsely written on the thin sheets of paper. There wasn't much information on her new ward. She looked up at the subject of that report, a lanky and malnourished black colt with an ember orange mane. He glared back at her, defiant, suspicion heavy in his posture and eyes.
"Miss Night? Could you please start again? I'm afraid I didn't catch all of it." In truth she had caught almost none of it. Pegasi we're known for their quick mannerisms in their speech. A cultural habit due to their natures of battle and speed, the latter long since left behind for many. "Please, start from where you're from and to which organization you work for." That would be important, as she had to file his arrival with the right archive in the city.
The mare just grinned toothly and bobbed her own head.
"I'm sorry about that. Yellow always says I never slow down to take a breath." She chuckled to herself. "As I said before, my name is Moonlit Night. I work for Hearts for Foals, well we are affiliates of them, our official name is Wings of Grace. HFF, and its organizations, have chapters based in Paris Prance, Stalliongrad Prussia, and two right here in Equestria, Trottingham and Neigh York." She smiled proudly. "I am from the Stalliongrad chapter, hence the name difference, and this little guy is from there as well." She made an attempt to ruffle his mane but his hand shot out like a viper, striking her own. A resounding slap echoed in the small office. "He's a little temperamental," she chuckled as she wiggled her hand, as if the blow had actually stung.
"No family what so ever?" The Directress inquired. It was unexpected, but not unheard of for a foal to have a family members unfit to take care of them.
"No, or at least no pony came forward after about a week of him being in our care." She responded. A pained smile touched her lips briefly.
"Okay," the matron breathed, "why don't you tell me what you know about him. Starting with how you learned of him in the first place." Cloudy steepled her fingers before her, she could write it down later as she had a mind like a vault, and wanted to watch the colt for any responses as Miss Night began her report.
"Well, we first learned of him through the local community, and had already been searching for him for some time. A stallion named Stone was the most reliable on locating him, and was the second to approach us about him."
"What herd does Mr. Stone belong to?" She interrupted. She could not imagine a stallion letting a lone colt live alone in the gutters of the streets.
"Uh, none that I know of." Moonlit blinked in puzzlement at the question.
But the Directress only nodded, it made sense then, the stallion couldn’t have tried to save him himself. With no support of a herd of his own, it would be very hard for anypony to raise a foal on their own, much less a lone stallion.
She had one more question about the matter.
"And what is his profession?" The nervous smile she got in return confused her.
"He...uh, he is a prostitute." Cloudy's brain fizzled.
"He's a what?"
There was a strange noise that came from the colt. His face was a curious mix of emotions now. Amusement being the most prominent as he seemed to fight down his humor.
"Ah..ha yeah a stallion of the evening. You know, a pony paid for sexual activities?" She made some rather rude hand gestures. The snickering from the foal only grew worse.
She was floored. Prostitution was illegal in Equestria, though she had heard that the profession was still in practice in Prance and the less civilized places of the known world. But to actually hear of it, and the direct involvement they had, made her sick to her stomach. Not out of disgust, but of horror that a stallion would be forced to live a life like that.
"I hope some effort was expended to see him…out of that."
"Unfortunately not my department, and...well Stalliongrad is not like Equestria. The laws there are much looser and crime is more prominent. I couldn’t tell you if anything will be done or not." The social worker shrugged uncomfortably.
Cloudy closed her eyes and said a small prayer to Faust for this Mr. Stone. She could only hope and pray for his good health. "I understand," she finally said, "please, continue."
"Alrighty!" Moonlit exclaimed, clearly happy to get off the subject.
"Anyway, the report stated that he arrived in the city about a year ago. No pony knows where he came from, only that he was first spotted in the market."
"And you only learned about him a year later?" Cloudy responded harshly.
"That was found out in the investigation. We started hearing of him about three months before Mr. Stone came in. An old mare running a stall in the eastern market was the first to say something, and that had gone first to the local guard. For whatever reason, they had neglected to inform us, so don't blame me!" She defended.
"Fine. Continue." This was certainly turning out to be one of the more bizarre rescues she had heard of.
Miss Night took a moment to compose herself before going on."So, we performed an investigation, as I said before, and we discovered that he was likely stealing to survive before being taken in by Mr. Stone. It was only once the aforementioned stallion had personally given his report did we even learn of him; however, asthe local guard did nothing to report any of it to us. We only found out about the elderly mare's part in this later." She paused, taking a sip of water.
That annoyed Cloudy. If she wanted a story she would go to the local bookstore. Her eyebrows rose in a 'get on with it' expression and the mare continued with another sheepish grin.
"A local crime family, whose name I'm afraid is classified by the way, was also tracking him. We learned through Mr. Stone as to the why and...uh…" she leaned forward, in a hissing whisper, "apparently they wanted to use him in the same business the stallion was in."
The Directress only stared in abject horror. Potential fear froze her gut like lead. Horror for what obviously happened to Stone. Potential fear for what could have happened to the colt.
"Did you notify the authorities? That kind of activity has to be illegal!" She screeched, causing the mare in front of her to flinch.
"Yeah, no. We could...but Stalliongrad is not exactly a nice place, as I have said before." She raised her hands at the heated expression on Cloudy's face, "it likely would come to nothing as the local governments are….buck, their corrupt as Nightmare Moon. There's literally nothing we can do other than rescue what ponies we can. And foals at that."
That caused everypony to fall silent for a long time. The cerulean furred mare staring at her desk with tightened fists.
Moonlit eventually took her silence as permission to continue.
"We managed to get to him first, thank Celestia. When we went to Mr. Stone's home we found it thoroughly trashed. Apparently members of that family had been there before us. We should have known that was the case as the stallion had looked like he had been used in a pit fight. By some miracle, as we chased down every thread of a led we could, we ended up cornering Orion in a dead end alleyway late one night. We turned the corner only to see something that turned my stomach and Yellow Strikes to vomit. Oh Yellow is a Unicorn by the way, he's my partner when it comes to dealing with foals. He's trained-"
Cloudy tuned her out.
"She certainly likes to ramble if given the chance." Since her and the colt's arrival, she had been nothing if not chatty.
"Miss Night. What was it that made you sick?" She interrupted.
"Oh sorry, again. Well as I was saying, we turned the corner and he was eating a…rat.” Her voice dropped again,” a raw rat." She emphasized, shuddering and her feathers ruffling in disgust. This story had gone from horror to something she had no words to describe, she just stared at the foal in front of her. Who grinned back at her, sharp incisors glinting in the office lights.
"Those teeth!" In his mouth was a pair of canines, in fact there were two sets. One on the upper and one on the lower jaw, the rest looked to be almost the same as your average pony.
"Yeah, it turns out after a medical examination that he's actually an omnivore of all things. Can you believe it?! An omnivore pony! Noponys actually heard of one before. Trust me we checked! There are no records!"
Cloudy could only sit in stunned silence, never in her life had she heard of a pony eating meat. There were rumors of course, of high endurance runners and fliers eating fish but she had never heard of anything like anypony eating red meat, let alone a raw rat.
After a few moments she realized that Moonlit had actually stopped speaking on her own for once. Looking at the gray furred mare she noticed that she wore a knowing look. Apparently she understood the Directress's need to compose herself for a moment.
As she did she noted the grimace on the colt's face.
"It seems that he didn't particularly enjoy that meal either." She mused as her stomach began to settle. After about five minutes, when she felt she could handle more, she spoke up again.
"I...I would ask you to leave any further details to the report if you don't mind." That got a ready nod from the pegasus, "please continue."
"Right, well...um once he dropped...that, more like threw it at us, he tried to escape. I am so glad we wore our armor that night. This colt turned everything in the alley into a weapon. Boxes, clothing wire to wrap us in, buck me he even threw a fist and blackened Yellow's eye good!" She chortled to herself.
The tale was only getting stranger and stranger, almost out of this world, she found herself chuckling just at the absurdity of it. The Orion wore a smug smile.
"How was he doing all this?" Cloudy said, once she composed herself.
"Somepony at least taught him how to use levitation to great effect. Or he's a prodigy. A rogue box thrown conked Yellow in the head and I was suddenly on my own with a rather violent little beast. He even stabbed me!" She laughed again, harder this time.
"Stabbed her?"
"I'm sorry, did you say he stabbed you? With what?" Her eyes drifted once more to the colt. The smug look now turned into a neutral frown on his face. Disappointment?
"A piece of iron. He had a little bit of fabric wrapped around one end and somehow managed to sharpen the other end to a point. I have no clue where he got it from, only that he swung it with enough force to dent my breastplate. Damnedest thing I've ever seen or been a part of." She ran a hand over her ribs, no doubt imagining what would have happened had she chosen not to wear her protective gear that day.
"Anyway, I finally managed to nab him and restrain him. He fought like a wild animal for another ten minutes with me while I struggled trying to put a null ring on his horn."
Cloudy couldn’t help herself, she looked back at the colt sitting on a chair in the corner, furthest from the door. She looked for signs that would indicate his unusual aptitude for violence.
All black, his color was as deep as shadows. His fur was rather unkempt, and judging the state of his hooves, it was likely his first time ever having them trimmed and shod. He had walked in awkwardly, as if they hurt him.
His mane was the color of embers. Orange with hints of brown throughout. It was a rather pretty blend and unusual as well, but it looked like straw. First bath in months if she was not mistaken, the mane and tail had likely suffered from neglect. The tail had been shorn short as well.
His horn was perhaps the prettiest thing about him. Patterns of swirls indented the horn from base to tip. There were still burs and rough patches here and there. Not a true trim then, but one done in haste to get the worst gone. That seemed the extent of his grooming.
The gray eyes captured her. They looked so old on a body so young."What must you have endured? I am so sorry my little pony. You will never have to live that life again, I swear it."
His long ears twitched as he looked at her quizzically. She must have been making a face. Composing herself quickly she turned back to Moonlit. "Is there anything else?"
"Ummm, oh yeah we did a blood test, with the physical examination. It was how we found out about his meat eating habits, but it came back with more. Or less. I don’t really, it was very weird."
Cloudy missed the moment his little hands tightened, her attention now back on the WFF agent.
"Oh? How "weird" are we speaking of?"
"Well as you know, he's the first ever omnivore pony. Teeth and blood prove it. He even threw up the moment we force fed him hay. A scan showed that he actually lacks the enzymes to break that kind of plant matter down. When they looked at his blood, well, he has a unicorn parentage. But there is another blood type no pony has ever seen before. It's very strange. We've sent samples to various academics to study, but aren't hopeful of the results."
"Hasn't he said who his parents might have been?" This was all very intriguing. To have a parentage that was unknown to ponykind was unheard of. If there was another race out there that they knew nothing of would be the discovery of a lifetime.
"No. He hasn't really said much of anything that would indicate where he might have come from." The way she emphasized the word 'said', spoke volumes.
"What? What is it?"
Moonlit chuckled. "His language is colorful, he sounds like a griffon of all things. Maybe somepony from Ryolt. But he definitely got his lessons from somewhere else other than any home of ponies."
"How…..what did he say?" Cloudy was not sure she wanted to know.
"During his 'rescue'," she mimed quotations, "he screamed some rather….confusing things at us. At one point he screamed out "knock knock"." She suddenly held her stomach in mirth, struggling to continue.
The black colt's lips twisted in an attempt to hide his own mirth.
"And….and Yellow actually asked... who's there." She drummed her hooves into the wooden floor. "He...hehe….he...oh Celestia...he fired back, 'your mother's a whorse' and punched him in the eye!"
Moonlit could barely stay in her chair. Cloudy did not share in the humor. "That's terrible language for any foal to know." She admonished her.
"I know,” she chortled, “but it was just so funny and out of the blue!" It took several minutes for her to compose herself.
During that time Cloudy took the opportunity to finish the paperwork of custody transfer, eyes still wide at the insanity of it all. She wondered if she would end up regretting taking him in.
"Is there...anything else?" She asked hesitantly, handing the finished file over to Moonlit Night.
The mare chuckled as she accepted the file, standing up she stuffed it into a hip bag. "No, I'm sure this is all correct. Expect a visit from the usual by the end of the week, once I file this of course. Oh and I guess the CFP as well." She made a face.
Cloudy could only join her in her own eye roll. The CFP was a pain in everypony's flank and no pony had any bones about showing it.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you Miss Night." She shook the mare's hand in a firm shake.
"Absolutely no problem. Thank you for taking him off our hands, since you know, Canterlot dropped on us." She smiled graciously before turning to the colt. "And you Mr. you better stay out of trouble ya hear?" She ruffled his mane as he glared back, jerking away.
"And you can go douse yourself in gasoline and walk into a welder's shop." The voice, while a bit high in pitch, carried a disturbing undertone. It was stiff and held a note of maturity she had not heard from a six year old before.
"See! That right there is what I'm talking about. I know what the latter means but what the buck is "gasoline"?!" She laughed.
Cloudy had no clue, but she could understand the implication clearly. "Where under Celestia's sun did you hear that from, young foal," she questioned harshly, loaming over the smaller pony.
His glare shifted from the agent to her, and lips morphed into a wicked grin. Those teeth and that smile were a terrifying combination.
"I learned it from the great nation of Nunya, which surrounds the land of Business. They don't like visitors." He laughed at his own joke, and Moonlit held no shame in joining in, though the look on her face told of her ignorance of what all that had meant.
She could feel her own face and ears warming from embarrassment.
"That, young colt, will be the last time you speak like that in my orphanage. Are we clear?" She was already beginning to regret signing the papers.
"Oh go screw yourself with a cactus, lady. I'll say whatever the fuck I want." Cloudy's eyes bulged. She was poleaxed, the audacity of this foal!
"And that is my cue to skedaddle! Good luck to you two!" The gray furred social worker bolted from the office through the window as opposed to using the door.
"Pegasi…" she lamented.
Turning her attention back from her office window she rounded on the colt, snatching him up by the ear without a word and marching him toward the office bathroom.
"The fuck lady! Let me go before I shove the desk up yo-" he never got to finish as she grabbed a bar of yellow soap and shoved it into his mouth, vigorously sawing back and forth.
His horn lit up and she flicked it harder than she normally would have. The magic sputtered out. She nearly leapt out of her fur when a loud clatter of several objects in the washroom crashed to the floor.
She kept the soap in his mouth longer for good measure. Finally she relented and removed the soap, casually tossing it into the sink behind her she set her fists to hips and glared down at the sputtering little pony. He hacked and he spat the suds from his mouth for a good minute before he glared back at her, his jaw set stubbornly.
"Now before you say anything further, young foal, know that you will get a similar treatment every time you let your mouth get ahead of you." She wanted to smile at the sour expression he now bore. That feeling of satisfaction was short-lived however. His horn lit up again and before she could react he had levitated the soap into his own hand.
With another defiant glare, he took a huge bite out of the yellow bar and snapped back hard at her. "Get bent, bitch." She could only look on in shock. What had she gotten herself into.
The next Morning found her bleary eyed as she stared across her desk at a CFP representative. Cardinal Rule was a bright red unicorn mare of an undetermined age. Her face smooth and well brushed was bellied by the green eyes that seemed to have seen much and held more secrets than Cloudy had life left.
Azure, after bringing in the surprisingly chipper Cardinal, had gone to get the Directress a much needed cup of coffee.
She would normally be drinking tea by this time, but after settling Orion Falls into his room, she stayed awake long into the night to fill out paperwork for his enrollment into classes that would begin in a few weeks. As well as writing out a request for a medical exam. The one she did last night was cursory at best, and she still wanted to confirm what Moonlit Night had said.
So coffee was to be her only salvation this morning.
The CFP agent had been surprisingly cordial given her organization's penchant for being belligerent with anypony not them. She had instead politely waited, adjusting the all black uniform she wore. The badge of her affiliation, having been dusted more than once, sat proudly on her left breast.
Cloudy hated seeing that badge. The letters, CFP, stood out boldly in gold under a red sun, indicating their relation to the Church of Sol, of whose emblem was a red sun cupped in white hands.
Many of her family were members, but she could not accept the idea that Princess Celestia was anything other than a longer lived pony for an undetermined reason. There was no way she was a goddess. And the Princess had as much said the same.
Despite Her denial. The church not only persisted, but grew exponentially over the past eight hundred or so years. With their growth came organizations that held them in high regard, often being funded by the church itself.
The Council of Foal Protection was one such organization that had begun during Princess Celestia's Herd First initiatives some twenty years back. Her goal had been to improve the lives of foals who had been left behind by their families. Whether it was conflict or famine did not matter, only that they found a home. Incentives were also given to those herds that managed to produce more colts, or adopted them in. Nothing seemed to motivate a pony quite like bits could.
Azure finally stepped back in with a hot mug of energy giving coffee. Four cream, four cubes of sugar, just as she liked it.
After a moment of silence in which she gave silent worship to the coffee bean, she spoke. "So I understand you are here about our newest arrival, Miss Rule."
"Ah yes, it's Mrs. Rule by the way, I am indeed here about Orion Falls." She smiled sweetly. Even her teeth were whiter than snow and straight as tiles to boot. She was the very image of a pony the CFP desired.
"I see." She took another sip. "I'm sure you have questions, so by all means," she gestured.
"Absolutely. First and foremost, I’d like to congratulate you on your success in becoming the Directress for this establishment, and keeping well within standards for the foals in your care.” Typical insincere bureaucratic buttering up. “Now, on the report it was said he was found in Stalliongrad. Correct?" She gave a nod, and Cardinal made a small notation. "I hear he was rescued before a pretty awful fate got to him." It wasn't a question per se, but she likely wanted confirmation.
"Yes. According to Moonlit Night, the agent in charge of his rescue, a crime organization was attempting to capture him. Their intentions were not for his benefit as you know doubt already read." She stressed that last.
"Name of the 'family'?" Her response came.
"Was classified for some reason. I didn't delve too deep into it because, well frankly, it's not my business. I could do nothing knowing that information."
"We take the threat to foals, colts no less, very seriously. It would make it easier for us to provide support if we knew what we were contending with. You should have investigated at least enough for a name." She retorted. The smile was gone. More writing, and the smile came back. "No matter, it shouldn't be too difficult to get into contact with her. Now, we understand his teeth are not atypical, how so? Also, this report said he was eating a raw rat, has he expressed desire for meat?" The disgust was clear on her face.
Using the excuse of taking another sip of the life giving liquid she paused before speaking. She had given him a quick examination that night before bed. Cloudy had confirmed for herself what his teeth were actually like, and while not too different from her own, the incisors and cuspids were clearly meant for more than just cutting vegetation.
She had thought it was her imagination during the turnover proceedings, but that had turned out to not be the case.
"Yes, I performed a brief examination myself just before putting him to bed. They look close to yours or mine, but there are distinct differences in the way the forward teeth are shaped. He has not mentioned meat as of yet to me. But I have not seen him yet this morning."
Cardinal Rule looked at her for a long moment, then grunted and began to write again as she spoke. "Let's just have a professional examine him shall we?"
The condescending tone made Cloudy's teeth grind. She had already made plans for such, but she spent years attending night classes in order to provide emergency medical care to the foals placed under her. In fact she still held a valid nurse's license, and this mare had just flung her hard work in the mud.
She did her best to keep the anger from showing on her face, she hoped she had succeeded.
"Now on the report, it was said he was... confrontational at the time of discovery. Very unusual, that. Most colts are frightened to their hooves or at the very least docile. How would you describe his current behavior?"
Opening her mouth to answer, she paused. Behind Cardinal Rule, and out in the hall, stood Orion Falls. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Orion! What do you think you're doing?!"
The colt jerked around nearly spilling his coffee and dropping the carafe.
"Um, I think I'm getting myself some wake up juice? Unless I'm hallucinating or something." He responded blithely, an annoyed look plastered on his face.
By this time the CFP agent had turned with a raised eyebrow at him as well.
"I take it that you're little Orion Falls. We were just speaking about you." She smiled kindly. "You know coffee is a big filly's drink, maybe you'd like an actual juice?"
"Maybe you'd like to get cornholed behind a shed. I'm not a juice kinda guy. I like my coffee." He took a hefty sip and smiled satisfactorily.
Placing the pot down in its place, he meandered back down the hall. He hadn't even bothered to put cream or sugar in it.
Cloudy's head was in both her hands.
"That...is Orion Falls?" The bewildered tone mirrored her own from last night.
"Yes, yes it was. Celestia help me, that is him."
The rest of the interview went downhill from there. Cardinal Rule demanded he be turned over immediately, and she refused. There was no way under the sun that she was going to turn him over to an organization that had very dark rumors floating about it. The mare left in a huff, spouting threats. She had lost her smile the moment she had made her demands, and had never gained it back.
The coffee mug he had used appeared again an hour later, washed and put away.
"Well, at least he knows how to…" Her mind seized up. He knew how to clean up after himself.
That was her first inkling that there was something very off about this particular colt. Far more than just his attitude.
After the CFP agent's visit, a strongly worded letter had come that afternoon by dragon fire.
It was about what anypony would have expected. Veiled threats to her career and establishment. But, no writ of release was included. Just more demands for Orion to be turned over.
An inquiry of hers found that somepony had petitioned for a custody transfer, but the judge had informed her they had no evidence of neglect. It pays to have a history of well fed, well educated foals coming from her orphanage.
She did take the little black colt to be seen by a doctor. She hated to admit it, but her license would not stand up if somepony really wanted to take him under the guise of medical malpractice.
If anything, it only confirmed what both she and Miss Night had already known.
"He is in fine shape," Dr. Heart Hooves was saying. "A little malnourished but I know you will have him better fed then most foals."
Orion was sitting off to the side reading a book, or at least looking at the pictures she assumed. Odds were he wasn't a very strong reader, if able to at all.
Dr. Hooves was sitting behind his desk signing a few lines on the paperwork and not meeting her gaze.
"I feel a 'but' in there somewhere Doctor." She pushed.
"Well. I. Uh. The thing is, his teeth aren't for show. We examined his blood and digestive system and found, well, he's actually an omnivore." He pushed the papers aside and stared, not at her, but at the colt. "I've had a few hippogriffs as patients, and while they primarily use a beak they still have teeth. But in his case they are entirely unique. A unicorn with a need for meat protein is not something I've ever seen before. Celestia bless me, no pony I've ever heard of is like this. None of the other two tribes have a hint of it. Not to mention how odd his DNA is, or what we can make of it."
Orion's eyes were no longer focused on the book, now watching the doctor with what looked to be anxiety over the edge of the pages. Cloudy's own eyes shifted back to the physician. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. What is wrong with him?"
"Nothing is wrong per se, it's just that there are two distinct parentage strains. One is most certainly unicorn. The other, we have never seen before. Do you have any clue as to who his parents were?"
Of course she had no clue, and if the colt knew he wasn't saying. "No. Nopony does. He was found on the streets of Stalliongrad eating a rat so I can only assume he was abandoned early in his foalhood." It was getting much easier to speak of his rescue. That both comforted and bothered her.
"Well, that's a shame. He is going to need a very specific diet I'm afraid. No hay for one thing. Most flowers as well. I'll have it all written down for you. What he will need is a steady intake of meat. I recommend fish as we have a strong griffon population in the city and that will make it easy to get it. Fish should be relatively cheap as well. Also most fruits, and various vegetables. Again, no hay or grasses of any kind."
There was a groan from behind her she chose to ignore.
"I will have to find some recipes. Is there anything else?"
"No, other than his dietary requirements he is a healthy almost normal unicorn foal. About six years old if I've judged the teeth correctly." He smiled blandly.
She thanked the stallion for his time, and before long they were making the short journey back to the orphanage.
"Orion, do you know who your parents are? It could be very important." It had been eating at her since Dr. Hooves had told her and she felt that the wait had been long enough.
"I never really got to know either one if I am being honest. They left me behind long ago." There was such a forlorn look on his face that she could not help but scoop him up, hugging him fiercely.
"It'll be okay little one. I will find you another family. One who will love you for who you are." She whispered. He struggled in her arms.
"Yeah that's great and all but could you please put me the fuck down?" He whined, which drew a giggle from her.
She held onto him for the rest of the walk despite his protests.
He had fortunately, for all involved, arrived in the middle of the summer holiday. This allowed her to make arrangements for an exam to see where he stood academically.
If she was being honest with herself she was worried he wouldn't even be able to read, which meant he would have been held back at least a year just so he would be caught up. That would likely be most embarrassing for him but she would not allow for him to just be pushed through. Though she was encouraging that he knew how to spell his own name. In cursive no less. So when his results arrived a week before the new school year was to commence she was quite surprised.
He surpassed almost all expectations. History seemed to be his only lacking subject. The notes that came with the results actually spoke highly of him from the auditors.
She called Orion into her office late in the afternoon just before dinner. He walked in with a disgruntled look and a sour attitude.
"Yeah what do ya want?" She blinked. Did he just growl at her?
"First I want you to change that attitude, little foal." She barely kept herself from snapping back.
He sighed heavily running his hands through a much softer looking mane. "Sorry, sorry just, the brats you got in here don't know how to leave anyone alone, and I'm feeling a bit dickish about it," he grumbled.
"Are they giving you a hard time? Is anypony being mean?" She asked kindly, her features softening at realizing that he was having trouble with his fellow foals. He didn't say anything but jumped into the chair before the desk, he stared at the wood for so long she thought he had forgotten she was even there.
But before she could get his attention, "Yes? No? I don't know. Most are just curious about me, and I guess being the new kid and all they would want to know about the FNG in their midst. But they seem to have yet learned the whole personal space and private time rules, and some of them are going to learn it the hard way if they don't let up."
"Well that's alarming."
"Orion, I would very much appreciate it if you did not do whatever it is you are planning, please?" His grunt could be taken either in acquiescence or resistive, she couldn't be sure.
But he had become surprisingly amicable after his arrival, at least with her and other members of her staff, so she had high hopes that he would have the self control not to get into any fights.
"So….what did ya need boss lady?" She snorted in amusement at that. He had taken to calling her boss lady or just boss whenever she wanted something from him. And while annoying at first, she realized that when he used that he was willing to pay attention, and play along with what she wanted. Usually.
"Your test results came back today." She held up the packet in her hand.
"It's cancer isn't. I knew I shouldn't have smoked so damn much in pre-school." He deadpanned, amusement in his eyes.
"N-no it's not that kind of test." She struggled to contain her laughter.
It was another surprise about him, his more adult humor. He was often telling off colored jokes that would fly over other foals' heads but not her and Azure. It would often lead to the pair struggling to not devolve into giggles, and gaping at his crudeness.
Some of the jokes drifted into no-go zones, and he would often have to be chastised for it. But for the most part he kept it mostly clean.
"Sorry I couldn't help it. I take it those are my test results for school. How bad did I do that you had to call me in here?" He leaned back in the chair, a frown creasing his features.
"Actually the only subjects you had trouble with were History, and some minor Equish trouble. Everything else….Orion who taught you?" It had been a question that had burned in her mind since first reading his examination results. No, it was before even that. When he had signed his own name in cursive on the placard outside his room. Could Mr. Stone really put that much knowledge into his head in such a short amount of time?
He smiled sardonically, "I can't actually tell you because I don't know or remember. Why?"
"Well, your command of math and basic science is beyond most foals your age, Orion." She spoke his name again to make a point. "History you know near nothing of, of which I can actually understand. But I do have to wonder why you had trouble with Equish, considering your other scores."
"Oh that's easy, you people insist on using that terrible vernacular of yours," he smugly responded.
"What's wrong with the way me and Azure talk? And what do you mean by you people!?" She frowned at his laughter.
"Anypony? Somepony? You've got to be kidding me? How exclusive does a race of people have to get before it's apparent speciesism is untenable?" That gave her pause. Not just because he may have had a point, but his surprising lexicon of words.
"What do you mean?"
"It's simple, how would you address a mixed group of species? A quick way mind you."
That got her thinking. But only for a moment as she smiled. She had been taught this as a foal of course. "I would say, "everycreature may I have your attention"." She was proud of herself, for a second till he burst out laughing.
"Yo-... you'd reduce….oh God dammit….you would reduce everyone to a beast?" He struggled to say through bouts of giggles.
"That is the correct way to address multiple species. I don't see how that's funny." Cloudy huffed.
After he stopped laughing he smiled benignly at her.
"Okay, what would you call an animal from a forest that you don't know?”
Her pause of thought was longer this time, and her eyes widened.
"I would call it...a creature…." He waved his little hand into the air to keep going, "I suppose you have a point."
"Oh I know I do. That's why I absolutely refuse to use those speciesist terms. Everyone is included in my conversations," he smiled.
She could only stare at Orion once more.
Most six year olds were trying to show you what they made, speaking so fast that their words jumbled together in their excitement. Not him. He always spoke clearly and concisely, leaving nothing to miscommunication, even if some of what he spoke on was confusing.
Cloudy was tempted again to ask him about his past. But she knew steel was weaker than his resolve not to say anything. She dismissed him, and was left to marvel at the surrealness of it all.
It wasn't long after his enrollment in school that inquiries were made about him. Cloudy had expected it to happen.
She had decided not to have him held back in classes and just scheduled after school lessons on history so he could catch up. Given their earlier conversation, she did not believe he would bend on his preferred word usage, so there was little point to adding to his workload by attempting to use correct and accepted vernacular. He was completely caught up with all lessons after only a few months.
Cloudy was really impressed. Orion's study ethic was just one more point of strangeness between himself and others his age. His scores in class, as well as his fortitude to catch up with everypony else, had gotten his teachers talking. Which got potential parents listening.
Hope for him swelled, but she put a moratorium on any adoption procedures till she was sure he was ready. He was still far too antisocial when it came to others his age, choosing books and solitude to playing games and interacting with foals.
Still by January she could no longer responsibly delay families from seeing him, and so scheduled his first visit in the second week of the month.
It was a disaster.
"Wait, no! Come back! I haven't finished telling you how a monkey with tourette's could do your job better!" Orion roared with laughter as the herd of three practically ran out of the receiving room.
Azure chased after them uttering apologies that fell on deaf ears as Cloudy gaped in outrage at the colt."Where did it go wrong?"
The first family to visit him had also been the very first to show interest, so she had figured they should be allowed first contact. Soft Tone and her herd were organizers for public speaking events, often participating themselves if it was a particular passion for them. During the summer they would be booked all over Equestria, but during the fall into spring they would do more local work which would be perfect for Orion to have a stable school environment. They had two other foals, both fillies, and were excellent candidates for adoption.
It had started out rather tepid. Not for Soft and her family's lack of trying.
Finally he asked a question of them. He had been deflecting or outright ignoring their questions and the stallion, Airy Words, was starting to show signs of being upset.
"So, your job is to promote speaking events? Of any kind?" His tone should have been Cloudy's warning that he was up to something.
Mrs. Tone smiled, a beautiful smile that lit up the room. "Yes it is. We go about the country putting on events for ponies to speak of their passions or what might concern them. It is really very rewarding."
"Uh huh. Are your services expensive?" His eyebrow was cocked upwards. That got her attention if not the herds.
"What are you planning, colt?" Her eyes narrowed at him.
"Our services depend on how many speakers and what stage we need to have built in order to accommodate them all. Also there is catering that will need to be-"
He interrupted her.
"Yeah that's great, avoid the bit question, but why do they need you to do it?" He grinned at her.
"W-what?"
"Why would anyone need you to host an event? Especially to go as far as hiring your services from across the nation. I'm sure that it cost a pretty penny just to book you, which sounds like a rip off by the way." He chuckled ignoring the aghast looks. "Listen, it's not hard to go and schedule an appointment with the mayor or some shit. Catering? I'm sure a dozen restaurants or bistros would jump at the chance to showcase their wares and make some cash doing it. As for you, your passion is speaking about how beautiful flower arrangements can be?"
"Yes," Soft answered in a strangled tone.
"A monkey, a lobotomized monkey, would likely make a better speaker," he finished.
That had silenced the room. A tomb held more noise.
"I think we're done here," The deep baritone of Airy's voice broke the spell.
"Oh, I suppose that's not a good analogy," Orion murmured, finger on his chin. "How about….oh a troop of monkeys all throwing feces at the audience might be better."
They stormed out, with his last insult chasing after them.
"Orion!" Cloudy screamed, aghast at his behavior.
"Oh come on, you can't actually sit there and tell me that their careers could not have been easily done by the townsfolk they swindle. They're a joke!"
He was sent to his room hungry.
The next visit that she allowed, three months later, had not gone any better. She wanted to cry. After the third visit interest in him dropped significantly. These events also had the unfortunate consequence of bringing the attention of the CFP, and one Velvet Backwater, back down upon him.
Orion had turned seven, and was growing like a weed. He was all but raising himself, as he proved to be far better at cooking fish then Azure or her, and had taken over prepping his own meals. The cook they employed had outright refused to touch meat of any kind herself.
A bright spot of that was him helping with cooking the other foals meals with Mrs. Lemon Zest. The green furred mare had been delighted with the help and singing his praises, calling him a natural in the kitchen.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Orion and Lemon had just gotten the kitchen cleaned, when a knock at the front entrance drew Cloudy's attention. On the stoop was a mare clad in a black pantsuit, with the badge of the CFP standing proud upon her breast. She took off her sunglasses and smiled.
"I take it you're Cloudy Sapphire?"
"Yes I am," she replied, then asked, "and you are?"
"Oh where are my manners? My name is Velvet Backwater. I am with the Council of Foal Protections. I am here because we got a number of reports of a rather unruly orphan unicorn. Orion Falls is a ward of this establishment, correct?"
The tone said she already knew he was, so Cloudy had no choice but to answer honestly. The mare's name tickled the back of her mind, something was disturbingly familiar about it.
"Yes he is. I'm sorry, what report and why was I not informed?"
"Oh well that's because they were filed with us. May I come in?" She asked nicely, but again, there was a tone of expected compliance. "Also, I would like to see young Mr. Falls."
Reluctantly she allowed the mare to pass and asked Azure to get Orion, there could be no good to come from this she was sure.
Cloudy sat in the middle of a long table that was in interview room two. On her left sat Orion, closest to the door, and to her right was Mrs. Backwater.
Other than the muffled sound of foals playing, and the ticking of the larger clock that hung on the wall across from her, there was barely a sound.
The moment he had come in, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. She had watched as his glance darted to the agent's badge and back to her face, a tightening of his jaw followed as he sat down in the chair across from her. He had learned quickly what those badges meant.
Backwater had contented herself with pulling out papers that Cloudy could only assume we're on him. Once she was done she smiled back at the glaring colt and interlaced her fingers together, and waited.
The minutes stretched by, it felt to her that it had been hours since they all had sat down, and still the two merely watched each other. His expression had morphed from suspicion and anger to boredom. Hers had remained a pleasant , casual smile, as if she had all the time in the world.
Finally he moved, and both mares' ears pricked up in attention. Cloudy wanted to laugh as he pulled out a book and began to read it, a quick glance towards the CFP agent showed visible annoyance on her face.
Another minute went by before Velvet's horn lit up and she attempted to snatch the book away from him. It became a tug of war as his own lit up, that strange black and gold mix, and held onto the book. His iron grip coupled with his magic made a comical sight as he struggled to keep the manual.
Finally the agent had had enough and simply teleported the book away from him, to her side of the table. Instead of shouting in anger, he merely blinked in puzzlement before nodding once to himself.
The mare herself brushed her mane to straighten the few hairs that had gotten disheveled from the contest of wills and strength, and glared at him. Her calm smile was no longer in evidence. He didn't even look at her, instead his horn remained lit and he was wiggling his fingers back and forth, a look of concentration on his little black face.
"He's trying to figure out how she di-" her own thoughts were interrupted when the book suddenly reappeared in his hand. She gawked openly, her expression mirrored by Velvet's own.
"So that's how it works. Huh. Neat." He mumbled to himself. The first anypony had said in a while.
Azure had told her he had been practicing levitation more and more, but this was the first indication that he was studying beyond what was normally allowed for a foal his age.
Typically, magical lessons were held in abeyance until middle school. It was safer for the parents and foals, as they didn’t get in over their head practicing something dangerous. A notable exception was for those foals in specific schools such as Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, or Trottingham's Preparatory in which they have several courses for younger unicorns that showed promise.
With apprehension, she realized Orion may actually fall under that category.
Velvet found her voice first. "Well, I can see that your scores are not misleading at least. But I did not take that from you for the fun of it. You are in a meeting, young stallion, and you're expected to pay attention to your superiors."
He had already cracked the book open again, a primer for introductory magic from what Cloudy could see, and looked at the mare across from him. Where he had gotten that book she had no idea. She didn't allow them in the open library. Too easy for little ponies to cause trouble with them.
"Well Fed-Pone, considering all you've been doing is smiling like a creep at me this entire time, I figured why let you waste my afternoon? So I'm studying till you have something meaningful to say, or you go away."
Velvet's mouth worked but no sound came out.
The Directress decided now was a good time for her to intervene. "Orion dear, please put the book away. Mrs. Backwater does have something important to speak to you about." Not that she wanted her here either, but she needed this to go smoothly so as not to cause more issues later.
He gave her a sullen look, but complied, shoving the book into his pant's pocket.
"Fine."
"Mrs. Backwater? If you would?" She gestured, hoping the mare would take the hint gently and begin.
"Yes, well. Thank you Miss Sapphire." She nodded graciously to her before turning her attention back to him. "I am Velvet Backwater, I am here on behalf of the CFP. Do you know who we are?"
"The Council of Foal Protections. Yes, I know who you are." He responded in a bored tone. She didn't expect him to be pleasant after the earlier incident, but he could at least be civil. It seemed Orion was bound and determined to keep the mare as upset as possible.
"Yes we are, cut the sass." The agent snapped. "We have heard an alarming number of reports about your ill behavior. Talking to your teachers we have found you are often confrontational and uninterested in the lessons, your only saving grace is that you can pass the tests with little to no difficulty. Families who have shown an interest in adopting you have spoken to your rude behavior. Why?"
For a moment it looked as if he was going to go back to the silent treatment.
"The why is, well kinda complicated yet not."
Backwater leaned back in her chair, no longer frowning as an interested look came over her.
"You have shown an absolutely stunning intellect. I mean you've just now figured out how to use 'Capesso' after seeing it performed once. That is impressive for anypony, much less one of your age and station. So, please, elaborate, why are you so hostile."
It seemed Velvet was attempting to be empathetic, it sounded stiff to Cloudy's ears. And that “station” comment would win her no ground.
"You mean; 'why are you making unicorns look bad'." Her mouth tightened. "I'm not stupid, I've heard what your organization prioritizes, though I am confused by why you’re focused on me. An Orphan." He raised a hand to forestall her. "It's simple, at least in statement if not reason, I don't want a family to adopt me."
That declaration silenced the room. Even the ticking of the clock sounded muffled to her ears. She could not believe he had said that, and the look on his face showed he meant it.
He did not wait for either to voice anything.
"The reason is I will be expected to perform as a family would want me to. Loving and grateful. I won't be. I'll be understanding and grateful to a small extent. But I won't reciprocate what they want from me. So why make someone pay the adoption fee price, feed and care for as well, for a guy who won't perform to their liking?"
".....and the aggression towards your teachers?" Velvet asked neutrally.
"That's mostly because they are upset that I'm not actually listening to them. Did you know they tried to ban me from the library? For reading too much?" He laughed. Though he hesitated a moment before continuing on, as if he was keeping something to himself. "I read during their lessons, but get my work done. I don't see why they are complaining considering I am at the top of the class."
"That might be because you're showing utter disrespect to them and the foals around you are starting to take note." The agent hissed. The frown was back, with a glare. "Others might get the idea they can do the same thing!"
"Oh and a few have, but the dip in scores quickly righted them. That and judging by how gingerly some of them sat, a firm hand as well." He smiled, it was a rather viscous one Cloudy noticed.
"You don't think that was unfair?" She had begun to write, of what was being said was certain. The quill sweeping across the pages in her magic as she continued her interrogation.
"How is it unfair? They tried to emulate me and failed. They learned not to do that anymore. If anything they learned their limits and can grow from there."
Velvet arched an eyebrow. "That is a rather adult outlook. Is that what you intended?"
Orion scoffed. "Hell no. That's just hindsight at work. I could care less how they live. I'm not there for them. I'm there because I have to be, and I don't have a lot of options otherwise."
"I see." The sound of quill scratching away at paper filled the room for a moment. "Enough of that for now. I am more interested in another report I have received. One of you needing, meat?" Her expression was one of stark disbelief. "I'll be honest, I find this one preposterous, Cardinal Rule recommended a physician examine him, has that been done?"
"Yes. Dr. Heart Hooves is the attending physician at Hooves's Pediatric Care. He confirmed the original report." Cloudy was proud of herself for grabbing Orion's file, she slid over his medical report. "He has been eating various types of fish for almost a year with no ill effects."
Velvet said nothing as she looked over the report, occasionally the scritch of her quill would fill the silence when she found something interesting.
"Well, his report will certainly be taken under advisement, but a second opinion will need to be obtained, as this Doctor does not have a license secured with the CFP." She pushed the file away from her.
"Yeah, but isn't he licensed nationally? Or was that certificate on his wall just for fucking show?" Cloudy was startled, he had been quiet for a while now.
"Yes, he would have to be to even have a practice." The agent responded back. "What does 'fuck' mean?"
Orion ignored her question. "Well last I checked the CFP has no official government backing at all. You're backed by a cult, I mean church, which doesn't have any backing by any governmental authority either." He stopped and mused for a moment. "Which means you don't have any authority to even be here examining me. Your organization is a collection of busy bodies interjecting your opinions and paper thin power where it doesn't even belong."
The Directress just stared. Where under Celestia's Sun had he learned all this from? When did he learn it?
Mrs. Backwater glared back hard at him, her hands gripping the wood of the table hard enough to make it creak from the pressure.
"I. Will. Not. Tolerate. You. Speaking. Ill. Of. The. Church!" She nearly shouted.
Orion stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it about. "You wanna shout that again, a little louder? I don't think everyone heard you in the city clearly enough."
Eyes boring at the colt, Velvet spoke to Cloudy. "You will be turning him over to me. Today. From my professional examination I would say we have a budding sociopath. He will need to be reeducated on proper foal behavior. On proper deference to the mares in his life as well."
It had all decayed so fast, one moment she had hope that the meeting would end peaceably, if it was a bit rocky. Now she was being forced to make a decision that would mark her one way or another.
Her heart spoke before her mind could catch up.
"No." The breathy whisper of her voice seemed to boom despite the soft spoken tone.
"I'm sorry I don't be-"
"She said 'No' ya daft bitch. Meaning take yourself, your little bundle of papers, ya nasty three week in the sun rotted vagina and get the fuck out!" The little colt roared. Well it was all over after that. Velvet Backwater lunged over the table at him and he in turn hit her in the eye with the book.
The guards were called, mostly to escort the CFP agent away before worse happened. It was a lucky thing that a station was just down the street from the orphanage.
As the mare was escorted away, shouting at the pair that it was most certainly not over, she looked down to Orion, mouth opening but nothing to say. He spoke first.
"Yep I know, no dinner tonight." He laughed. He actually laughed.
"Do you realize what you have done?" She finally spoke.
"Likely made an enemy for life?" He looked back down the street. She had finally stopped screaming. "Honestly I could care less. The only reason her and those like her have any authority is because they browbeat everyone around them into submission. And if people actually stopped for a moment and remembered that little fact, the CFP would lose any influence they held if they were just ignored, we wouldn't be putting up with the likes of her."
Cloudy could only stare in wonder. She had been doing that a lot today, but she could not help it. This seven year old foal understood political intrigue better than some adults. He ended up being proven correct. Nothing ever came from the debacle of a meeting with Mrs. Backwater. Though she did learn why her name tickled her memory.
Velvet Backwater was an up and coming member in the CFP. Strong rumor was that she personally ran the organization's reeducation programs, and was known to have a particularly nasty streak when it came to stubborn foals that disobeyed in any way.
Treatment of that level was hard enough to leave most foals nearly catatonic.
Cloudy Sapphire shivered remembering that particularly uncomfortable fact. Grateful for the fact that she had managed to essentially smuggle Orion out from under that tyrannical mare's nose.
The question was, how did the CFP attain so much power in just a little over a year?
The rain was coming down harder now, as well as the pull teams cursing. She could feel the jerks inside the carriage when the team had to start and stop again. She was most certainly going to pay them extra for this, even if she had to dip in her personal funds to do it.
Taking a carriage put days onto the trip. The first town they arrived at she would send Azure an apology letter and inform her that it would take longer for her to get back. She could not risk telling her by what method they departed, even if the CFP could reason it out. Best not give them any help.
She smiled as her eyes rested on her charge. Orion seemed to have fallen asleep during her musings. Another yawn took her.
"Seems like he has the right idea. It's going to be a long trip."
She settled herself into her couch, wrapping her coat about herself tighter. Sleep sounded pretty good to her right about now. Thunder boomed overhead, interrupting the noise of rain pattering on the roof.
Author's Note
Welcome to Part One EVERYONE!
As you can see this will be posted with no announcement. Kinda a gift for all of you for being patient with me.
I pushed my editor a little hard so the next one won't be available for a couple of weeks but I figure you all can be super duper
That being said, enjoy and thanks so much for coming to see!
Thanks for reading.
Peace
Unspoken Past, Part One
As rain drummed, and thunder boomed, the jarring blast of someone else's snores joined them.
Trumpeting exhalations from one individual that was not Orion Falls. His left eye cracked open to glance at Miss Sapphire in annoyance.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" He mentally shouted at her. "Shut the hell up!"
This was ridiculous. He had just been drifting off himself when the racket had begun. He winced as her breathing hitched sharply, before another mind rattling wheeze nearly squeaked out of her. It sounded like a train engine just starting up.
He had been trying to sleep. He needed it after the night he had. It seemed the only thing to do other than berate himself some more, but that was getting tiresome. The black colt had attempted to fall asleep early on, already figuring it was likely to take days for the pull team to lug the carriage all the way to the capital. Judging by the cursing, it was definitely going to take longer. Not to mention soon they would have to stop and rest for a while.
Orion sighed. He was gonna have to be really tired if he was going to get any rest tonight. The mare's snores were equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for him.
He looked at Miss Sapphire again, a pained expression replacing the annoyed one that was on his face. Though not for the belligerent breathing this time. He had really, really, fucked up.
He knew what she was risking getting him away from Manehattan like she did. He felt bad for Miss Dream as well. Poor mare was likely feeling the brunt of that bitch's wrath by now if his suspicions were to be proven true. Considering the number of police out and about this night in the city, it was too much to be a coincidence to think this hadn't been planned for.
He glanced out the window, his thoughts turning dark as he contemplated the terrain before him, the sheer cliff face falling away into shadowed darkness. He could just disappear. In this storm no one was likely to notice as hard as it was going. The rain would likely cover his tracks as well as his scent. But he quickly shelved that idea, then tossed it into the bin of useless plans. That was getting rather full since his arrival.
He knew nothing of this world, there had been no survival books in either the orphanage or school's libraries when he had looked for them. His brief experience with nature early on wasn't any kind of instruction either. Just days of confusion and desperate search for shelter.
Outside of what his grandparents had taught him, which had kept him alive early on by the narrowest of margins, had kept him alive. How long could he apply that knowledge to things that it was never meant to handle?
He had been lucky, extremely lucky.
He shifted in his seat, the couch was rather comfortable but his slumped position put a bend in his back that wasn't. Weren't kids supposed to be as flexible as a snake at this age?
He shifted to a better sitting position, and resumed his self reflection.
All this trouble because he couldn't keep a handle on his temper. "Well, beating myself over the head with this endlessly will get me nowhere. What's done is done, what can I do to make it better going forward?"
It was his grandfather's saying, and it was words he had begun to live by since Stalliongrad.
Just thinking of the name brought unwanted memories of his terrified, confused arrival . Three years since he went from being a man, to a child again.
The hiss of hydraulics and the clang of retracting bars jolted Orion from another fitful night of sleep. If it was even night at all. There were no clocks down here. Nothing by which one could tell time. Only smooth white walls, and bright fluorescent lighting.
"Subject three-one-two-five-nine, it's time to get up." The smooth feminine male voice was ruined by the antiquated crackle of the speaker on the wall of his cell, but he easily recognized that tone and manner of speech.
Adam Levine Burbidge, astrophysicist, direct descendant of Margaret Burbidge. A mantra that he repeated at nauseam so often that Orion was sure made others want to bludgeon themselves to death every time the man decided they needed a reminder of who he was in exposition form.
He knew he himself certainly wanted to get a running start at the wall in front of him, but due to his cell's given eight by four space, he was sure all he would get is a headache instead of the sweet release of death he so craved.
Just as well. Despite his situation, suicide wasn't really appealing.
He sat up, trying and failing to work the kinks out of his back. The mattress that occupied half his little room was barely two inches thick, and he was certain that the inside was lined with cardboard rather than cotton. Hell it was a miracle that he hadn't caught a cold as they had yet to provide him with even a sheet to cover himself with when he went to sleep. Or a fuckin' pillow!
"Three-one-two-five-nine, come greet this glorious day! Come join us. Today is the day we-" he tuned the man out. Burbidge, was an individual in love with his own voice, and was prone to droning on and on about whatever he was interested in just to hear it. Even if no one knew what the fuck he was talking about most of the time.
He had often seen the confused looks on his assistants' faces when the man launched into what he could only guess was something akin to theoretical physics. He couldn't be sure. Chemicals, molecules and such were more his speed.
No one came to his cell, which was not unusual in and of itself. They didn't have to. Not after the first week of his stay, or was it a month?
"Jesus fuck! How long have I been down here?" The question had rattled around in his head often as of late any time he regained consciousness.
It didn't matter, his "orderlies" had gotten him and his fellow "patients" into the routine of heading to the security gate immediately on being called out. It had been a painful lesson for all of them.
He shouldn't even be here, in this hellhole. It was bad enough he was already being used as a scapegoat for terrorism.
After his trial, which was a sham and a shitshow in which no one believed him. He had been loaded onto a truck and transferred to an unknown facility in what he thought was Utah. He wasn't sure as he had only glimpsed a black sign with a white bee hive on it. The number twenty-two stamped in black and white.
The last he saw of the sky had been late evening, twilight hour, just before he was unceremoniously dumped on an elevator that was much larger than normal with other criminals. The platform did not stop for a long time once it started its descent. Hell, he hadn't seen the surface or his fellow inmates in awhile now.
Groaning, he stood up and brushed the long brownish red hair away from his gray eyes. A haircut was badly needed, it was down to his fucking neck now. He noted with disgruntlement that some of that hair was now gray themselves. Outright ignoring the scraggly beard growing in with redneckish abandon, he turned toward the now open cell door.
Scratching at his ass he stared at the entrance to his accommodations with unease, contemplating the inevitable ass beating he would get if he did not appear soon. Whether it would be worth it or not to show a little defiance.
He decided it was not.
Finally stepping out, he noticed a change to his normal view, all the cells in his block were open, every single one. But there was no one in the hall with him. That was concerning, though his groggy mind couldn't place why. Before they had always been closed, only permitting one or two out at a time for strange tests and cognitive trials.
Turning to the left, he noticed the two "orderlies" standing by the security gate.
Calling those two vaguely neanderthalic individuals anything close to medical professionals was pushing the realm of realism. More like bouncers that took courses in meat tenderization, and drank protein like one would drink water.
"There you are, Subject three-one-two-five-nine! So good of you to join us!" Blared the speaker once more, the whir of a camera lens focusing could be barely heard.
Always "Subject three-one-two-five-nine". Never Orion, or Mr. Thatcher. Just, "Subject three one two five nine".
"Egotistical, fat, beady eyed, shit sucking fuckhead. Could you for once use my goddamn name?! For once!" He groaned internally. He knew why they called him by number, of course. It was to dehumanize him. To make him be seen as only an asset or some such shit. That way the technicians and researchers didn't get attached or sympathize.
It was annoying as hell.
"Morning fellas, thought I told you guys to quit this gig and go pro." He joked in a dry voice at the two he tentatively knew as Bill and Edwardo. Bill cracked a smile, but Edwardo didn't even chuckle. Just as always, he stood there arms crossed, with a perpetual frown on his face.
Orion was convinced the man had been born without any sort of understanding on what a joke was.
"Enough of the pleasantries, it is time for us to take the next step, a step toward the future." The speaker barked once more.
Orion's brain had finally started working. Man he missed coffee.
"Step? What step?" His mind replayed the last ten minutes for him. "Wait! What history?!" He most certainly did not whimper. He did not. But he did back away.
Both men seized his arms and legs roughly before he could even complete the second step. The security gate opened, and a pasty white, balding, plump man stepped out, a grin spreading that doughy face nearly in half. Dr. Burbidge.
"Why human history of course! For you to take the next bold step for humanity and egress from our world to the unknown! To further our understanding of the plains of existence outside our own!"
"Oh no. Oh Shit. OH FUCK!" His stomach sank.
The look of horror was obviously ignored by the good doctor. He spun around flamboyantly on a heel and gave a come hither motion with his hand.
He knew it was pointless, but his panicking Lizard Brain screamed escape at all cost. This earned him a particularly vicious punch to his stomach that took the air away from him, and promised him more pain when it finally returned. He stopped struggling and hung between the pair, trying to stifle his own groans as best he could. Staff didn't want to hear the assets cry after all. Another lesson given in the darker corners of the facility.
A thought floated in his head. This is why he hadn't been fed anything the night before. Made sense, as anytime they were tested, food was withheld till after examinations. Something about being well fed flubbing the results.
Trussed up like a puppet on very thick meaty strings, the two linebackers turned thugs, marched him through security behind Burbidge. They claimed, well Bill did at least, that it was never personal what they did. Orion could smell the lie. It smelled like weak old bullshit that someone left in a can of chaw.
"Are you sure it's today?" He gasped out, pain making his voice strained as one of them to tighten their grip. "I'm sure there are a couple before me."
"Nope! You are the last!" Sing-songed fatass.
"And?!"
"No report back as of yet, but I'm confident we will hear from them soon, we did start sending them out only a week ago. For you, we have a special destination. Just discovered by accident last night as it so happened." One stubby finger tapped at the man's lips. "It has a very unique signature so you're gonna go with a bit more equipment than the others were given. Sorry about the change in schedule, but we need to learn all we can!" Burbidge practically danced ahead, his excitement was not shared.
They marched him down the all too familiar white hallway, Edwardo's foot making a sticky sound when it stepped into some spilled soda. By Orion's nose it was the same Mountain Dew that had been spilled a week or so prior. The safety department was sleeping on the job, and the janitorial. For shame.
The sticky sounding steps continued all the way to what he had been told was "The Transference Chamber". The words alone didn't convey much terror, but the equipment inside looked like very much on par with what a mad scientist's laboratory might contain.
He had told them the first time he had seen it that they were ripping off Stargate. That they should be ashamed of themselves. He now had a loose tooth over his first little jab at humor with them.
But the giant circle of metal, that was currently pulsing with a strange rainbow hued light as they marched in, honestly looked nothing like a Stargate. It was all white for one. With metal wires leading into it in a jumble he could never know the purpose for. For two it was more oval than an actual circle and about half the size as the one in the show. And finally, there was no super cool rotating wheel within the frame.
In a phrase, it was lame.
The moment they stepped inside he was hurled to the floor, being promptly descended upon by technicians and engineers before he had made it to his knees again.
Under Edwardo's ever watchful glare, he was stripped naked and forced into a very unflattering black skin tight suit with red piping that looked like rubber but felt like silk. There were connections and sockets built into the shoulders, hips and thighs. A belt was cinched around his waist with a lot of big pouches. It was actually comfortable, if not for how thin the one piece garment was he might not have minded having to wear the damn thing.
"Sorry ladies, it's cold in here." It wasn't. His dick had just shriveled up in fear, taking his ball sack with it. Couldn't even add a nut cup to the damn thing, nothing to hide the fact that he was becoming a Ken Doll.
Actually, now that he thought about it, it was pretty damn hot. Many of the technicians were sweating behind their scrubs. He could see damp spots.
The first time he had been here, when they were testing resonance between the prisoners and the portal, it had been rather cool in the room. On some of his trips it was downright freezing.
"Uh, hey. Why's it so hot in here?" He called out.
"Oh, that's actually the portal's field. For some reason this dimension has a particularly warm energy field." Burbidge helpfully answered. "Nice of you to actually take an interest, Subject three-one-two-five-nine! It is so lovely when you understudies take initiative to learn about your jobs."
Understudies. That drew a snort of laughter from someone in the chamber.
"Well excuse me, maybe I'm just a dumb 'Subject', but isn't that just a bit of a cause for alarm?" It was a stretch, but maybe he could buy himself another day or two before inevitable death.
"It falls within established parameters, no need to worry. Though I do thank you for your concern!" This fucker could not, or would not, be deterred.
Before he knew it the swarm that had surrounded him was gone, and his suit felt twenty pounds heavier after their departure. Orion now bore instrument blocks where those connectors were. He had no idea what a tenth of them did. But the fishbowl they shoved into his hands was new, and explained the purpose of the stiff circular collar.
The AES, or All-Environmental Suit, was designed to operate in every conceivable condition. Save for a few that were not feasible. One being him dumped into a volcano.
From what he had been told when they had been measuring him, this thing was supposed to be better than even SpaceX's new EMUs. Capable of keeping the wearer alive in vacuum as well as acid rain.
Next a pair of medical technicians came up with some kind of gun with multiple chambers, and jabbed it into his neck. The sound of rapid hisses was soon drowned out by his shout.
"AHHH THE FUCK IS THAT!" He clapped a hand down over his neck, the other fending off another of the silvery metal guns. Bill had to come over and restrain him.
"Those are your vaccines, three-one-two-five-nine. We would not put you into danger of infection after all." Oh of course they would want him to be able to survive any potentially preventable biohazards. After all, a lot of money went into this project.
They hurt like hell.
After the battery of shots he was released. He didn't know whether to rub his neck or arms first. He watched in awe as the hole that had been punched into the AES, where his inoculations had gone in the shoulder, sealed itself up. Now that was seriously cool.
Burbidge had sat his royal fatness into his "command" chair, smiling like the kid that got the whole cake.
He began to orate, it looked like he was speaking to no one as it seemed the majority of the techs and engineers had heard this speech before. It was what one would expect in his situation. The glories of mankind's future should this work out, the furthering of American ideals.
You know, the usual smug speech before disaster struck in any sci-fi movie.
It dawned on Orion, as his mind tuned out the obnoxious tone of Burbidge, that this was likely his last moments. They were going to shove him through a big ass portal and into the unknown, and he was likely going to die.
The last vestiges of what he supposed was the indomitable human will to live arose in him. It was hopeless, and in the back of his mind he knew it to be so, but he couldn't help but begin to babble. Hoping and praying that his mind would come up with something, anything, to delay all of this further.
"Hey Dr. Burbidge?!" He shouted, interrupting the man mid speech.
"Yes." The man snapped, annoyance clear on his face.
"Are you positive today is the day? It couldn't be next week?" He tried to sound concern for the project, it came out more constipated than anything else. "I was positive there were at least a million more calculations to do before you open up a new portal. Weren't there?" His brain was doing a wonderfully subpar job.
A gesture from the good doctor had Edwardo smack him so hard upside the head he ate the floor when he landed, his helmet skittered off to the side. The man did not skip on arm day. Or any day judging by his tree trunk legs that he was now gazing at in a daze.
"You're right, today is totally the day. All calculations are good. No need for any more tests." He wheezed from the floor. He could hear more than a few chuckles around the chamber. At least he was making this memorable.
Burbidge made to speak again but noticed the mood had passed, and signaled for it to begin. Disgruntlement large on his even larger face.
He stood shakily on his feet, his helmet slammed down on his head by one of the orderlies. The hiss as oxygen began to pump could be heard and made his right ear pop painfully.
Bill, with the eternal sourpuss known as Edwardo, began to push Orion toward the portal. At this close distance, he began to notice how loud it was. Like seven forty-seven that was breaking up with you in your bedroom loud. Using a loudspeaker. And the helmet did nothing to dampen the noise, in fact if he didn't miss his guess, it made the reverberations louder.
What a beautiful symphony.
He noticed with some annoyance that everyone else had hearing protection. Not poor Orion. Couldn't afford that for poor old soon-to-be-deaf Orion.
The closer he got, the more he noticed the hue of the portal was changing. Gone was the rainbow hued that danced and swirled, instead there was a really angry looking churn of black, gold, and an evil brand of green.
"Um, is that normal!?" He shouted once more.
They ignored him.
Orion was shoved another foot forward.
"Hey Burbidge! I've got one last question for you!" He desperately cried out, no more than two feet away from the spinning vortex of doom. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop the inevitable. But his brain had latched onto the most ridiculous thought, and he had to know.
The doctor signaled for the orderlies to stop, and looked expectantly at him. A scowl on his face.
"Are you gay?"
The technicians who had giggled before, now guffawed. Bill roared in laughter. Even Edwardo was having trouble breathing as he staggered a few feet away.
"Finally got the asshole to laugh. Now how about that?"
Adam Levine Burbidge, astrophysicist, three time winner of the Bruno Rossi Prize, stuttered out in a shriek:
"I-i-i have a wife!"
"Lots of men say that, I mean look at Tom Cruise." He quipped back.
Edwardo was now on the ground, Bill shoved him through, gasping and wheezing for breath.
It would have been lovely to know that he was going to feel some discomfort. It would have been the polite thing to inform him of before he stepped, was forced, through. It felt like every cell, every atom, was on fire and being pulled apart all at once.
Most notably the pain was, well, everywhere. Every fiber, right down to his very soul, felt like the weight of a mountain and the complete vacuum of space all at once.
What Orion didn't get to see but would have likely appreciated very much, was that he wasn't going to die alone. A feedback was triggered the moment his body passed through the event horizon of the portal. As his form was ripped apart atom by atom, so too was the very fabric of reality in that space. A currently unknown force mixed and fought with the tide of his world's reality, causing micro novas to explode and implode as things began to warp with brief possibilities that would never be realized.
That power sent ripples into the vicinity, like a wave of water that was pulling and pushing impossibly at the same time.
Burbidge had a brief thought that something was wrong as these waves washed over him and his team.
The twin fission reactors fell into catastrophic meltdown almost immediately. Due to interference, none of the safety systems engaged and for the team of researchers and orderlies, the world went white.
Utah had been a nice place from what some online reviews had said.
Impact drove the wind from him with a forceful grunt. He had landed on his back, and the screaming pain let him know promptly as it rippled up his spine that it was not happy.
Orion gasped for air as he rolled over onto his right side, struggling weakly with the fabric covering his head. Soon he gave up that fight, lying on his side as breath slowly returned to him, hoping the pain would leave as his heart slowed.
Laying there, he just let the world stop spinning as his throat took in air raggedly.
"Oh Christ…" he groaned internally, resisting the urge to try and sit up again. "What the fuck happened…where the hell am I?" In all honesty, he was shocked that he was still alive. The last memory of his was unending agony. Was this hell?
Something was certainly wrong. He felt twisted up, as if he had been compressed like he had spent a day in a centrifuge. Lighter than he should be, too.
As he continued to lay there, steadily breathing slower, his senses began to return to him. He could hear the sound of babbling water filling his ears, as well as bird song. "The hell?" That was concerning. He recalled one inmate that had been the first to be sent out and had said they were likely a mile below ground. His assumptions had led him to believe that he would appear, if he survived the portal itself, in the strata of some weird alien soil at the very least. Buried for all eternity.
But it wasn't just the fact that he could hear water and birds, it was how clear he could hear everything around him. Almost painfully so.
Satan and his demons had to be screwing with him, there was no way his hearing somehow improved after going through what had been the most painful moments of his life.
While living in Florida, Orion would often go to parties, often filled with underage kids making grievous life choices. He was mostly there for business but sometimes he would partake in the various shenanigans and drinking competitions if he was having no luck.
One of these shenanigans cost him hearing in his left ear. Why did he think trying to launch a hundred bottle rockets at once would work properly if you just duct tape them together?
The doctors at Dade City Hospital informed him that he was likely to lose all hearing in that ear by the time he was forty. That day had taught him a valuable lesson, never partake in your own stash. And yet now, he could hear everything so clearly.
Under all the various nature noises were other sounds. Sounds that are hidden in the background of life. His mind began identifying them. More bird song, the rush of wind through branches, and the only thing his brain could determine as chittering echoed between his ears.
"Bugs?"
He had never heard insects moving except in those NOVA shows, and it was beginning to freak him the fuck out. The sound of chewing had him the most alarmed.
The panic that suddenly seized him forced him to ignore the pain his body was still informing him of, his struggles to escape his cloth prison renewed. Light shown at one end, it too seemed off somehow, yet he pushed for it in a frenzy.
Sunlight blinded him, forcing him to blink through tears in an attempt to clear his vision. As things began to come into focus, he gaped. He had to be getting fucked with, there was no other explanation.
The first thing he noticed was how far to the sides he could see, as if his eyes had been stretched to the sides of his face but not quite. He could still see everything forward of him, but it was like he was seeing more than what he normally could have.
But it was what he saw that made everything so surreal. He had been told he was going to another world, another reality. But the bluejay sitting on a branch just in front of him begged to differ. Had they fucked up and given him his freedom by sheer accident?
"Doubtful, I'm not that fucking lucky."
The chewing noise returned. As he focused in on that sound it seemed to magnify and he felt something strange moving around near the top of his head. He slapped at it, thinking one of the bugs had landed on him, and winced in pain as he briefly deafened himself.
Still wincing and holding his head, he turned to look at what had first grabbed his attention. His jaw and hands suddenly dropped.
Behind him was a massive furry animal. Unbidden his mind started to conjure up horror movies about aliens and being eaten alive. One of three top fears.
When he was still a free man he lived in the swamplands of Florida. Not because he wanted to, but because that was the safest, or so he thought, place to do his business. He had never once been comfortable with the fact that he had alligators and other potentially large critters that were unknown to him, as neighbors.
He took precautions, stayed alert, which afforded him the blessing of keeping his limbs one morning when an alligator had taken up residence in his lab. It took him most of a day to get the damn thing out.
Back in the now, the furry head lifted and he breathed a sigh of relief. The chewing noise was of it, tearing into a large bush with berries in it at the base of what looked like a pine tree, its gaze was passive and dull. Just like any other herbivore he had seen from a farm or zoo.
A rather unusual one though, as Orion's gaze swept slowly across the beast he noted some similarities with a deer, no, the horns were far too thick. Thicker than any animal he had seen and more than one set.
The blunt and wide racks jutted out in two directions. One set along the neck as if for some protection, and it was thicker than the other set that jut out to the sides.
A loud snort startled him from his observation. The creature had clearly gotten bored of looking at him and had gone back to its methodical destruction of the bush, giving him a better view of its body doing so as it shifted its stance.
It looked like a big black and brown furred Bison. That was his best guess. Only skinnier, made for running.
He shook his head in exasperation, and his vision swam, as he was still used to his increased range of sight.
He went to rub his eyes with both hands and stopped the moment his hands made contact with his eyelids.
Something was very wrong. Very wrong.
Pulling them back he gasped in shock. Four digits on each hand, covered in black fur, were held in front of his face.
As he stared in horror he noticed something else that he had not initially realized. The hands, that were and were not his own, shot to his face and he screamed.
He could feel the smooth short fur of a muzzle that greeted his trembling digits as they probed across his altered face. He screamed louder.
The not-bison that was before him bellowed in startlement. It kicked, as it bucked and bounded away, barely missing his head. The huge thing was oddly light on its hooves as it took off.
But Orion barely took note of its flight, as what was apparently now his hands swiftly patted down the rest of his body.
Most of it was the same, though again, everything seemed smaller somehow. He pulled his legs from what he could now tell was the suit that he had been stuffed into violently only a short time ago. Naked black fur greeting his eyes.
"This isn't happening!" His mind reeled as two pairs of hooves capped the end of his legs came within view. He tried to flex his feet, and the hooves moved in response instead. He screamed again, eyes rolling into the back of his head.
His awakening this time was prompted by something wet pelting him in the face, several wet things.
Eyes fluttering open soon shut themselves again as a flash blinded them and a boom followed shortly afterwards causing him to jump.
Rain burst forth and chased his scrambling form from the middle of the clearing he was in, to under one of the heavy pine trees that wreathed it. The branches and needles doing a surprisingly good job of keeping most of the rain off of him.
In his dash for cover he managed to grab the suit, the helmet could not be found during his rush for protection. Wrapping it around himself he stared out into the downpour, trying to piece together his situation.
Judging by the creature he had seen from earlier, and unless he hadn't paid as much attention as he had thought in class, he had done it. Or, to be more accurate, Burbidge had done it. He was in another world. Unless that animal that had almost caved his head in was an aberration. That and the bluejay from earlier still left doubts settled in his mind.
But something had gone wrong, very wrong. The thought whirled in his head as he stared at what should have been his feet. He shuddered as he fought down the panic and revulsion that had claimed him earlier. He would be damned if he'd pass out again.
In hope, he fiddled with the devices on the suit. Maybe Burbidge had thought ahead and put some type of communication device on the AES.
Nothing. In fact all the devices on the suit were broken. The faint smell of burnt wiring clung to his nose. The now overly sensitive sense caused him to sneeze violently from the odor.
He checked the pouches that were on the belt, and nearly cheered as he found food bars and several water bottles. Tablets were also available to purify water, or so the instructions read and he breathed a sigh of relief.
The bars were just heavy protein blocks, but according to the writing on the packets each bar was meant to last a week. So three weeks of food was all that had been afforded to him. Well, he had made do with less before.
Unfortunately for him he didn't think he was going to get a paycheck from this expedition. An uncomfortable notion that he might not be able to eat anything in this world flashed through his mind. Movies, and even books, alluding to space and dimensional travel put new worries into his head. He pushed all that aside.
"Worry is like wondering if the hen is going to lay the egg. Of course it will, you will just have to choose what to do with it when, and not if, it comes." Another saying from his past, his grandmother this time.
Looking out at the rain, he watched for a while till he figured it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. With that he decided he best check what exactly had changed for him, this time with a more level head.
His feet being in view got him started there first. Though he was hesitant to begin, it was not every day that one's body was transformed into an entirely new entity after all.
His hands roamed over them. It was weird, the hooves felt the pressure from his fuzzy digits, but not any actual feeling. As his fingers traced up he found that his legs were actually digitigrade.
Great, he was a fucking furry.
The rest of the legs were surprisingly normal looking, if you discounted the fact that they were covered in soft black fur.
He continued his inspection until he got to the crotch, he wanted to scream again. But bit down on his tongue and merely hissed.
Instead of the usual bait and tackle he once had, he now sported an extra fuzzy pair of nuts and a, he tested the unfamiliar term in his head, sheath. It was unnerving to say the least and he poked at it more than anything else.
He did not like it. Not one bit.
Chief reason among his concerns was how the hell he was supposed to piss.
He had a normal anus, if nothing else, and a tail. Shorter than what he had imagined, it ended in a nub that long strands of brownish orange red hair seemed to be attached to. The tail fur went past his knees as best as he could tell from his current sitting position.
Further examination revealed everything else normal, besides the missing pinkies on his hands, those would be missed. How the hell was he supposed to grip things properly now?
Eventually he made his way to the head.
There he found the snout, or muzzle, whatever, as he had before. He then noted the ears on top of his head, far removed from the sides like he was used to and long. He could feel them twitching at the sound of the rain.
"Okay, so new body...what in the fuck am I?" He was deeply concerned for his own mental well being. He was also having major difficulties coming to terms with this form and its reduced size.
It had become clear to him during his examination, that he was smaller than he was before. He had never been a giant, but this was ridiculous.
His hands started to fall when they bumped into something else, causing his head to hurt slightly. Slowly he lifted his right hand up once more to feel what he hit.
A spiral pattern of what seemed like bone and felt, that he could both feel with his hand and head. He slowly realized that he had a horn. What in the hell was he?
He leaned against the tree as his hands found their place in his lap.
"This is so fucked."
He jerked awake, the first rays of dawn blasting straight into his eyeballs. A quick look around showed him still in the same place as before.
"Fuck, it wasn't a dream," he mumbled.
The need for the bathroom drove him from the cover of the pine tree and suit. Not that he needed them anymore, the rain had stopped sometime while he slept.
Stepping over to another tree, he wondered how the hell he was supposed to do his business. As he thought about it, he relaxed and the tip of what was now his dick peaked out of the sheath. The head was flat with a little hole at the bottom.
"Oh, I guess that works." He finished up rather quickly after that, the head disappearing back inside the fuzzy sleeve that caused him to shudder in disgust, then returned to his tree and drank some water from one of the bottles, careful to not spill a drop. "No sense in being wasteful."
Looking around once more he noticed a creek about twenty yards from his chosen tree. The rush of water reminded him what he had ignored yesterday for other, obvious, concerns.
Walking over he found a small pool, still save for the small eddies that were near the opposite end of him, where the water was being funneled in and out. He finally found his helmet, shattered and useless. It laid in the mud and muck.
Here he got his first good look at himself in the muddy murky water.
He was a fucking horse. Not just a horse but a child, foal, whatever! He was a baby fucking horse!
The horn he had discovered earlier stood boldly smack in the center of his forehead.
"Let's amend that, I'm a baby fuckin' Unicorn!"
What kind of little girl's wet dream did he fall into?! He was going to kill Burbidge if he ever got the fucking chance!
He stared for a long time at what he had become. A similar brownish red mane being pushed over his shoulder by a stiff breeze.
For a moment he thought he was in a fever dream. But dashed the idea because his everything still hurt like hell.
He splashed into the water after a while, determined to clean himself as much as possible, as the past two days had caked on mud and dirt into the fur. Once done, he climbed out and air dried as he decided on what to do next.
His food and water would only last so long. He would have to find another source eventually. He retrieved and then gnawed on one end of one of the heavy blocks, they could have field tested it before they sent it with him. Tasted like sawdust.
He also debated on what to do with the suit. He had checked over it again before the failing light forced him to stop last night. There was no power, the tears in it were no longer self repairing. He understood basic circuitry, but none of that helped him here as he didn't even have the tools, nor the knowledge, to try and get it working again.
The suit was also way too big for him to actually wear, now. So there was no point to having it, though he could try and wear it like a toga. He dismissed that idea as easily as it came, all that chunky equipment would just make it hard to do that as well, not to mention the connectors.
The weight was hard to ignore as well. While it did feel like a second skin, it was best to just leave it here. No, bury the damn thing in case he needed to come back for it. No sense letting an animal take off with it.
Dusting his hands off on his fuzzy knees he reached over and picked up the belt with his food and water pouches. A compass was actually in one of those, but it was useless.
The face had been cracked, the needle bent. He must have landed on it when he crashed into this place.
The issue with the suit was just one of his problems. He was in pretty bad shape, he had no real shelter, effectively naked, and no viable way to communicate with Burbidge and his team. He had no idea what to do. His training had essentially been; stand in one place and let the equipment do the work.
Was he to stay or go and explore what could be a dangerous area. As he pondered this, with the afternoon turning to dusk, another piece of his grandpa's advice came back in stark clarity.
When he had been a child, he and his grandfather had gone camping with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a knife for each of them.
"Rule one Orion. Orientate yourself. Find out where you are and what resources are available to you. Climb a tree, get to the top of a hill or cliff. See what's available and how you can use that to your advantage."
His grandmother had dropped them out into the woods that morning, and it wasn't till dusk three days later that the pair had found their way back to the cabin. The argument that sprouted from that had been hilarious. They had been blindfolded, his grandpa's idea to make it more realistic. And grandma had taken full advantage of it, and pulled a prank on them.
Still the logic was sound. Especially now.
He eyed the pine tree, his little arms were not going to cut it. There was no way he was going to be able to reach those branches. That left a tall hill or a cliff to search for. A mountain was out of the question.
Tightening the make-shift harness of his belt around himself the next morning, he set off. Every so often stopping to arrange a small mound of stones with an arrow pointing back the way he had come so he would not lose out on one resource already found, water.
As he pushed through the sparse forest, he found berries, much like what that weird animal had been tearing into. Remembering that he had limited food, he reluctantly tested a tiny piece of it. Dropping the rest, he carried on. After a couple of hours, he determined that at least a piece would not kill him, and the next bush he passed he took another one and ate the whole berry that time.
The sweet flavor that he hadn't tasted before popped in his mouth. It tasted like apples, if apples were bite sized. He hoped the seeds didn't carry the same amount of cyanide in them. Of course he waited before trying more, but soon enough he was popping the berries in like grapes.
Mid afternoon he spotted a hill that seemed to suit his purposes of needed elevation, and clambered up to the top on hands and hooves. The notion that he no longer had feet was going to take awhile to sink in.
Reaching the top he sat down, breathing heavily. He had never been 'in-shape' but in his old body he wouldn't have struggled this much.
After a little rest he took a look at what was around him. Open plains spread out before him, the hill actually ended abruptly about a dozen feet from where he sat. Carefully he got up and peered over the side, and saw that it went straight down about a hundred yards or so. It wasn't a mountain side given the amount of dirt, but it wasn't exactly a hill either.
Whatever. He didn't actually care.
Turning his attention back to the plains, and backing away from the edge a bit, he started to locate and identify landmarks.
Judging by the sun's position, and unless he missed his guess or was in a southern hemisphere, or if the world itself was weird as hell and made no sense with sixteen poles that all said purple, the mountains stood largely to the north. Massive, jagged, and heavy with snow that he could see even at this distance made him glad he didn't end up there. He shuddered at the idea of being dropped into a blizzard.
Directly across from him was more plains, and what could be farmland of all things. Though he wasn't positive. A good indication of civilization if it were true. But if it was, the absence of any structure made doubt linger in his mind.
Turning around he saw above the trees that had been behind him, and above him when he had still been below the canopy.
"Holy shit, is that the fucking ocean?" He exclaimed in his head.
The large expanse of water far to the west had no end behind it. So it was his best guess given the limited view, it could just be a massive lake for all he knew.
Seeing all that water, and the mountains to the north made him feel very small. He stood closer to the tall tree that sat upon the hill-cliff, then looked south and gaped.
To the south was a city. "Civilization confirmed!" He cheered inwardly, and did a little happy dance.
His head began to fill with ideas of getting there and getting help, then his brain ruined that by reminding him that he was no longer himself. People would definitely not take well to a little talking horse boy, a naked little talking horse boy. He could see the men in black putting him under lock and key, he would be right back where he started from, with no way to escape.
As he gazed at the city forlornly, details started to dash away his fears a little, but left him perplexed.
The city itself looked to be surrounded by massive stone walls, complete with gates.
"The fuck?" He whispered to himself.
If he discounted the big four horned fucker in the clearing the day before, he idly thought he might be in Europe.
Something flew up into the sky from the city, something fast as hell. A drone? More darted up into the sky, and some shot back down.
"The fuck is that?" He wondered, concernedly.
The longer he stood up there, watching objects fly up and down from the clouds covering the city, the more exposed he felt. He bit his lip in consternation. One of the objects that flew up, was now lazily making its way in his direction.
"Nope!" He was not about to wait around for that nonsense, he had seen that movie, they all usually died. Orion bolted down the hill and into the evergreen forest. Once under the cover of trees, he retraced his steps by following the stone arrows back to the small creek. He had to think.
Words from his grandfather echoed in his head; "Find your position, secure resources, decide how to get out of your predicament. And remember boy, you are the smallest animal in the forest. Stay on your toes."
He wished he had a knife.
He thought alright.
For an entire week he contemplated on what the hell to do. In that time, he had made a shelter of pine boughs, using the sharp edge of a stone to saw the branches off.
That stone was now fixed on a spear with sapling bark wrapped to secure it there. It had taken quite a few times for him to get it right, he was no woodsman. Woodshorse.
And as he thought and waited for some sign of Burbidge and his team, it slowly dawned on him that odds were there wouldn't be a rescue. Dread filled his belly.
During the week of contemplation, he braved scouting out the city to the south, careful to remain unseen behind the various stands of trees and leather leaf bushes. He'd often set out before dawn to get in position to watch just so he wouldn't expose himself.
The walls were not quite as solid as he had originally thought. Cracks, some big enough to fit his tiny frame in, were scattered along them. Getting in and out would likely be easy.
But that wasn't what made him pause. Nor was it his horsey form. It was the fact that there were other horses that did that. Them and some weird ass bipedal genetically confused birds at the gates.
The horses looked a lot like him. Some with horns, others without. There was even a few that had wings, and they fucking flew everywhere. All in a multitude of colors and combinations in which some hurt his brain trying to understand.
The bird people were even stranger still. Like the winged horses, they had all the bells and whistles. Unlike them they were covered with feathers roughly from the waist up. It looked like they had been bred with some kind of cat. Judging by some of those tails, more than one species.
Like the horses, they came in a variety of combinations, but far more muted in hues. Most color coalesced around their eyes, what might have been ears the way they flicked about, and the edges of their feathers.
"Pegasus. That's what they're called." His eighth grade literature classes slowly filtered into his mind as he made his way back to his hidden campsite. He certainly didn't remember covering bipedal animal people in those textbooks.
If those winged horses were pegasus, then that made the bird-cats, griffons. Details of those classes were hard to come by, lost in whatever forgotten hole in his brain he had dumped them into. He couldn't help but wonder if he was in the wacky world of some cracked out Grecian's mind.
Judging by the fact that there were elements of the middle ages and from what he could see of the buildings past the gate and cracks in the walls, Victorian era housing, he didn't think so.
But what to do with this knowledge? He just didn't know.
The second week of contemplation and wait, gave the discovery of something amazing, and a massive headache.
The horn that adorned his forehead wasn't just for show.
While water wasn't an issue any longer, his food supply was. He had been careful and only eaten twice a day. If he was lucky, he might stretch his food another week. The berries he had been enjoying seemed to fall out of season quickly as none were to be found by the time the second week had begun.
After helping himself to the creeks' now rather clear water, and not shitting to death, he eyed the fish in the pool dubiously. It could be a new source of food if he could manage to snag some. Though it would take more than a few to feed him.
He tried spearing, no dice. He tried using a net cobbled together with sapling bark. That fell apart the moment it hit the water. He even tried noodling, and had almost drowned in the river as the fish he had managed to catch nearly dragged him under. His grandpa had sworn by that one.
He likely didn't have the mass to make it work.
He even dove headfirst into the water trying to gore one of the little bastards on his horn. All he got for his efforts in that tactic was a mouthful of riverbed. All of this nearly made him scream in rage.
He glared hatefully at the little fishy bastards darting away, wanting nothing more than to catch a half dozen of the slippery fucks and crush them in sheer anger. PETA would not be happy with him. The very real fear of running out of food plagued him, those bars were down to a little less than a block and a half.
As he continued to glare, he felt his face, his whole head grow hot as hell. His vision doubled briefly and before he knew it, a fish floated in a golden black aura in front of his face.
He could feel the thing thrash, in his head, as if it was his hand holding onto it, yet not.
The sudden onset of piercing pain ripped through his brain and he dropped the fish and struggled to shore as everything loose in the area flung themselves, in a haze of black and gold, everywhere.
He awoke some hours later wondering what the hell happened. His head felt stuffed in wool, and a dull pain throbbed at the base of his horn. He slept the rest of the day away.
The following morning found him feeling decidedly odd.
He awoke as if he had a sense of things that weren't there before. As he focused on the feeling he could see a strange glow come from between his eyes. Gold and black.
Looking at his fairly destroyed campsite, he sighed knowing he was going to have to pick that all up. Suddenly loose stones, branches that he had tied together with other branches, began to stir and arrange themselves back the way they had been in jerky order. All in that strange hazy black and gold glow. He could feel what it was his mind was doing, as surely as if he had gotten up and done it himself with his hands. Numbers played in his head.
Unicorn horn, moving objects with his mind. He was either telepathic in some way, or magic was a real thing here. Judging by the glow that surrounded what he was manipulating, he would guess the latter. It seemed right. Felt right.
After a fair amount of practice, fishing became a breeze. That night he ate good, fishy flesh sizzling over the campfire.
Starting a fire was easy as hell as well. As he could spin the stick indefinitely with his magic, for lack of a better term, to get a fire going. Or near enough, sometimes he would wake to wet wood and it would take hours and a headache to get a fire going again.
With the discovery that he could perform magic, or at least something akin to it, he could extend his wait time. Thus putting off making a decision that he was still unsure of.
However, the longer he waited the more certain he became the Burbage and his team wasn't coming for him.
A week later he would make his decision. Or more accurately, nature made it for him.
He had waited till dusk, about all the time he could wait. That morning, as he retraced his steps to the city he discovered new tracks. Giant paw pads easily five times his hoof had been following his path. They were relatively fresh.
That couldn't have been a good sign. So he gathered his things, buried the suit and helmet, and set off for the city, head swiveling for danger as he tried to make as little noise as possible.
Hoping that the cover of darkness hid his little form as he made his way to the walls. He had already chosen his point of entry a few days prior, a large crack that was more than wide enough for him, near a rather lightly guarded gate. Now to wait for the opportunity and hope that the wait wouldn't be for too long.
As it so happened, a cart being pulled by two regular horse people slowly made its way up the road. He almost snorted in laughter. On top of that cart was another horse with two little foals in their arms.
"Horses pulling horses, there must have been a circus act at some point that had that."
At the gate the five were stopped. Gruff words that he could clearly understand were barked out by what looked like the leader of a troop guards.
"State your name, your business, and your cargo."
Orion had damn near tripped over his hooves as he dodged from bush to a low hill. "The fuckers speak english!" The odds were impossible. How in the fucking hell did he understand them?! Funnily enough, they sounded Russian of all things.
He had missed what the two horses dragging the cart had said in a howl that rose from behind him, chilling his blood. That had come from the north, no doubt where his former campsite had been.
Shit.
"Volks be out tonight. Sounds like they found something's trail." One of the griffons barked out, barely understandable as thick as his accent was.
One of the pullers spoke up. "Well then, let me and my family inside!" Her voice grated. She. As he watched he began to notice the differences. The woman, mare, had breasts. So too did the other puller, he couldn't put an age to either of them.
The horse on the cart with the two babies were male, and young. Fear was etched on his face as his head swung to the darkness behind them and back to the safety of the fire and walls of the city.
"Fine, fine, let them inside." Another guard spoke out. He couldn't see the speaker but knew the voice for another woman. The more he watched and listened, the more he realized that most of those guards were female. Even the Griffins.
With a heavy groan, the portcullis of the gate slowly began to rise with a screeching sound as rust was filed away by friction of chain and teeth of gears.
Another howl of an animal, a volk, sounded again, followed by answering howls. They were closer, much too close, much too fast.
No one was looking his way so he made his dash staying low to the ground, fear gripped his heart in a vice-like grip. Just as he got to the big crack in the wall a figure, massive and on all fours, burst from the leather leaf he had been hiding behind not a minute ago. Orion looked back to see gleaming sharp fangs exposed from a growling mouth.
"Oh that is one big ass puppy…" he thought. Alarm bells blaring in his head despite the calm thought.
Shouts from the gates drew the attention of the wolf-like creature at first. They had spotted the mass of fur and anger, but it looked like they hadn't seen Orion just yet. In the distraction of that moment, he squeezed himself into the crack and through the other side, just as the sound of more large figures broke through the underbrush of the forest.
A whole fucking pack. He had not left a moment too soon.
He hid behind some crates and barrels that seem to have lost use over the years, clutter and refuse no one had bothered cleaning up. Listening to the noise of a brief battle that couldn't have lasted longer than five minutes but felt like hours, before the wolves howled as one and rushed off into the night, judging by the sound of snapping branches.
"They've never come that close before!" A voice shouted.
"Someone get a tourniquet on that wound!" Another shouted, female again and the sound of someone in charge. More shouts could be heard. Two of which were screaming.
From his vantage point in the alley, he could see the cart from before being pulled in. Not by the women from before, but the guards. On the cart were both mares, frantically trying to stem the blood pouring from the male horse's neck.
His throat had been ripped out. Orion felt himself grow cold.
The two foals that had been in his arms, we're now being carried by a pair of guards, a morose look on the pair's faces. The babies wailing into the night.
The stallion jerked and gargled, and then was still. Dead. This was his fault. If only he had left sooner. Instead of putting off a decision that he should have made a week ago. He caused this.
"Fuck."
Noise from the other side of the wall, near the crack he had used in his escape, startled him from his darkening thoughts.
"I'm telling you Altai! I saw something charge into the crack here!" A male voice angrily argued.
A female voice responded tiredly, the same who had shouted about a tourniquet from earlier.
"Commander. Buck me Fury Breeze, at least address me properly in the field!" There was a pause. "How many did we lose?"
"Fury Breeze? The hell kinda name is that?"
He pressed himself against the opposite wall, ready to bolt down the alleyway should they make an attempt to get to his side.
"Three. Four if you include that poor stallion. I don't think he's gonna make it." He said, sadness echoed in his tone.
"Celestia dammit all to Tartarus!" Shouted the female, the commander. "I know that colt. He had just gotten married to those two last year!" She shouted. The clang of metal meeting concrete swiftly followed.
After a few moments of heavy breathing she spoke again.
"You said you saw something over here?"
"Yes, ma'am. I couldn't get a good look in the dark. Not a griffon after all. But it looked like a little pony. A foal."
Dead silence.
"Are you telling me a foal was out in the woods tonight?" There was an edge to her voice. Hell there was an edge to this Fury Breeze dude's as well.
"It could have been, ma'am. I just don't know. I only caught it for a second, just when that first volk broke through our lines.
"Well get Ardgriff or Silent Wing over here. They got wings they can see what might be on…."
Orion had heard enough, and bolted down the alleyway down into the city proper. His little hooves clicking against the cobblestone in loud echoes.
He didn't stop, fear and his own guilt lashed his mind as he raced into the darkness.
It was a couple of days before he finally decided to come out of his little hidey hole he had found in the north eastern portion of the city. The building was beyond condemned, but held a number of rooms with old furniture that held a somewhat solid roof over his head. One of them even had a passable mirror.
It wasn't till the sun had climbed a decent height into the sky that he had finally pushed aside his guilt to check his surroundings.
He really didn't have the drive to try and forge for resources or anything of use, so his hooves dragged tracks through the fair amount of dirt and dust that layered the floors. The incident of two nights ago still plagued his mind, his guts twisted up.
He had indirectly caused the death of more people.
That would stick with him for a while, but his stomach growled that morning in the most painful way, protesting the lack of food being shoved into it. He had eaten the last of his rations back at camp.
So the sun found him hesitantly peeking out through one of the windows on the third floor. There were no windows, having long been knocked out, so he had an unobstructed view below.
The streets were moderately busy. All manner of horses and griffons walked the streets. All wore clothes. As he thought about it, noting the very basic designs, so did the guards and even the poor family that had been on that cart a couple of nights ago. Rough things, a tunic and pants for the most part. The guards wore rudimentary armor made of steel and thick cotton straps.
No shoes, unless they did as horses do, and had metal shod hooves.
But what to do. He couldn't run around naked, he would be noticed for sure that way. Folks tend to notice that sorta thing.
He spotted a pair of horses in an alleyway, the glint of shiny things caught his attention as they exchanged hands. Money.
It looked like this world revolved around hard currency. Might be like one of those rpgs that he had once played. Still, in order to have a chance at getting some cash of his own he needed to be wearing something.
Looking around from his vantage point he spotted some clothes on a line strung across a pair of buildings. They looked to be roughly his size. No sign of any kind of underwear.
The idea of stealing didn't bother him much, just getting caught made him momentarily hesitant about it. It was still somewhat early in the morning as best he could tell, so maybe no one would notice if someone snagged them off the line.
He left the window, and climbed to the roof of the building from one of the fallen beams that had torn a hole in the ceiling some time ago. Once there he spotted conveniently laid planks bridging the gaps between the rough bricked structures on his side. Luck?
"Oh this is gonna be easy." An odd thought struck him. "How would horse underwear even work?"
Staying low so as not to be spotted by a rando on the street, it didn't take him long before he managed to make his way to the building, with the clothing line suspended above the avenue beneath. He bit his lip as he traced the big black pipe leading from the water tower he crouched beneath.
It was a good bet that it extended all the way to the bottom. That could be used to get close. But now that he was here, his nervousness about getting caught had increased. Creeping to the ledge he peered over at the windows across the street.
"Huh, like back in the day…" Not that he knew what it had been like in the 1900s, but the scene inside the apartment looked like something straight out of those old images on the internet. There was even an iron radiator in the corner of what appeared to be the living room.
He shook his head, he needed to focus, he was not out sightseeing.
The line was suspended across an alleyway, on a wheeled pulley system. All one had to do was grab the line your laundry was on and pull it to you. Convenient. This was going to be smooth.
He wanted to smack himself a moment later as he pulled his leg back. He had it in his head to shimmy down the pipe.
"You have magic dumbass! Come on!" Though too far to simply pluck the clothing off the strings, he was in range to pull them close by the wheel.
However, the moment he started pulling the clothes to his side of the alley, the wheels screeched like some type of dying parrot.
"Smooth sailing my ass!" He berated himself, but he did not stop.
Here he sat, naked, on top of a building, reeling in a clothing line with the wheels giving him away to anyone who bothered to listen and look. He sped up.
It was by nothing else but a miracle that no one came out to see what all the noise was about. No one looked up from the street either. And absolutely no one opened a window to begin shouting at him in a terrible Russian accent or screaming for the cops.
Another miracle. His judgment had been right from before, the clothes were only a little bigger than him. He felt bad for stealing kid clothes. But they could likely get more. He grabbed what he needed and scrambled away from the edge, practically fleeing back to his hide away, eyes darting for anyone that might have spotted him.
An hour later he was dressed in a brown and tan ensemble, and standing before the third story window again. An argument was going on between two stallions in the street. Both wore aprons and one was covered in flour, while the other was covered in dust. The one to the left had a horn, and was looking so bewildered.
Behind the other were two kids. Both around his size. They were crying.
"Ahhh shit."
He didn't need to be close to be able to tell that one stallion was blaming another for the missing clothes.
A horse in armor showed up, and seemed to be trying to mediate between the two. It seemed like the argument was going to go on for a while.
His stomach growled and he decided to ignore the scene down below, what was done, was done. Orion needed food. He could beg, but he would need to move away first, in case someone pointed out the clothes he was wearing and alerted the guard.
Looking in the opposite direction he spotted a market, or what he hoped looked like a market.
Descending the groaning stairs carefully, he made his way out to the street, and cursed softly under his breath. He had come out right in front of the arguing pair of horsemen.
Giving them a wide berth like the crowd, he managed to get by without a glance from either party.
"Just another horse kid making his way through town. No need to pay attention to little old me." He repeated in his head as he avoided oncoming traffic.
He would say the market was jumping, except besides the hubbub of noise from arguing horses about prices, it all seemed rather subdued.
Everyone looked dead on their feet tired. Must be a Monday.
His confidence had grown from when he first stepped hoof onto the cobblestone road. No one looked twice at him. No one cared that a little horse dodged and weaved amongst the foot traffic of the busy city.
And with English being the main language here, he would blend in even if he had an odd accent to the local populace.
For a long time he just stared at all the wares each stall had to offer. Most of it looked winter aged. But still edible. Judging by that, and the steady increase in temperature over the past couple of weeks, he must have arrived at the tail end of winter.
He also listened to the people and what they were talking about. Events from two nights ago still seem to be the talk of the town. A funeral was being held for the young colt, barely a stallion, tomorrow.
Guilt reared its head once more, but he fought it down, there was nothing he could do about it now. And he had been trying to survive himself so could he really keep blaming himself?
"You can't put the yolk back in the egg." His grandmother was fond of saying when mistakes happened. He wished that made him feel better.
He pushed it all away and focused on the stall before him. Apples, a little shriveled but still looked palatable, tempted his hands. But he was not unobserved. The woman that was managing the stall was eyeing him too, with a look of suspicion.
"You're just gonna stand there and watch me sell my food? Or are ya gonna try and steal?" She growled harshly.
She was older than most he had seen. Crows feet sat around her eyes and she had a nasty scowl that pulled at her features. She had more gray in her fur than green.
Bluntly put, she ugly.
He knew she was watching too carefully, and he found it hard to lie without a plan.
"Honestly, seeing as I have no money I was thinking of a grab and dash." The horse's eyes widened in shock, then barked a hoarse laugh of dry amusement. Once done she fixed him with a mirthful look.
"I do like honesty. What, your father didn't give you no duncas before sending you on your way to school?"
He blinked in surprise. School? Duncas? Duncas must be the currency here. School? Fat chance he was gonna go through that shit again.
He thought about how to respond. Simple lies would serve more than complicated ones.
"Do I look like I come from money to you?" Truth. "I barely have clothes!" Also true. "I usually have oatmeal in the morning." Was true before all this bullshit happened to him. "But I got sent out with nothing before school." The lie.
She smiled kindly, he took it back, she wasn't that ugly. Just old and worn.
Grabbing a trio of apples off the table she tossed it at him.
"You're lucky I have a soft spot for hungry colts. Now get on with you before you get in trouble with the marm! Go on!" She chuckled, swatting lightly at him.
He held the apples gratefully, and beamed back at her. She wasn't ugly at all, she was beautiful.
"Thank you kindly ma'am!" And he dashed out of the market and down an alleyway. Apples firmly held in his hands. This might turn out alright after all.
If only all his interactions with the locals went as smoothly as the old fruit seller. But of course, that was not the case. He had to limit his interactions with her for the time being to avoid suspicion.
Those first couple of months, Orion went hungry most evenings. But by the time the end of summer he was becoming quite good with levitation and stealing the food right off the tables.
He also got really good at pickpocketing, often being able to lift whole purses out of unsuspecting ponies' pockets.
That made him shake his head in amusement. The horse people referred to themselves as such. And calling anyone a horse was akin to calling them a whore. A whorse. So stupid, yet it did cause him to giggle anytime he thought of it.
There were other races in the city as well. Griffons, of course, also a fair bit of something called Diamond Dogs. Those were big brutish looking mutts of various breeds. Most were ugly. They came in various blacks, browns, and deep blues.
There were also some minotaurs. It seems this world is sticking as hard as it could to Grecian mythos. They ran a couple of smithy shops that mostly just took care of dented pots and pans but occasionally dealt in weapons.
Weapons were a major oddity. Early twentieth century living, coupled with medieval war craft. It made absolutely no sense. Where were the guns?
That wasn't a question you could just ask people. Mostly because it looked like no one here would know what the hell he was talking about. Questions for later.
The city itself was known as Stalliongrad. He could not help but note the pun. It was terrible, and with a sickening feeling, he knew it in his bones that it was only a prelude to what was to come.
The rather bustling, if downtrodden, metropolis was located far north of the equator. Explained the way it always seemed to be colder than he was used to.
The city bordered a nation called Prance. More puns. The one he was in was called Marussia. His suspicions were being proven true.
Stalliongrad was actually a port on the river of Coltish. Which connected to the lake, turns out it was not an ocean he saw, just a massive lake, called the Marussia Dame. Another river emptied out the lake into the North Celestial Sea. That other river was also known as Coltish. The puns were going to kill him before he got to twenty again.
There were apparently other nations out there, with all kinds of people. But he didn't bother to pay attention to most of them. Only one really, and it was often the one most folks believed he was from.
It was because of his accent.
"I'm telling you little one, you still sound like you just stepped off the boat from Equestria." The kindly, more gray than green old mare, Agnessa reminded him for what felt like the ninth time.
"For the love of god Aunt Aggy, I've never heard of the place." She had insisted he call her Aunt Aggy, and it fit. Nice old mare.
He had begun coming back once he figured out how to lift purses, the guards had yet to nail down the perpetrator as he kept choosing random spots to stalk at. He figured it would take them a while to clue in that it was a child that was causing all the financial mayhem.
He had come back and paid her, much to her protests, what she had given him all those weeks ago. He had also started exclusively buying food from her as the summer wore on. He felt she deserved it, and she was always happy to see him.
He learned about Equestria from her. How it was a land of wealth and opportunity. It sounded like America. Which immediately told him that becoming a citizen would take an insane amount of money and time to do.
He laughed her off more often than not. Mostly because it was true. He had never heard of the place before she mentioned it, and hadn't bothered to try and sneak into the local library again to find out.
Last time the griffon running the place had been on him so fast that he had to toss an entire bookshelf at her in his desperate need of escape.
Lifting that bookshelf hurt like hell.
Speaking of magic, he quickly found his limits. At just ten feet, his magic just stopped. It didn't peter off like some he had observed. There were children that had more range than he.
However, his simply just stopped abruptly. It annoyed him that he was somehow less, and he could figure out no explanation as to why.
Work crews of older ponies showed even better range than the kids. He watched one Unicorn lift a pallet of three to four hundred pounds some thirty feet up in the air. She did it effortlessly.
"You can deny it all you want colt, but I'd ask your daddy or mommies about where your family came from. I mean your name, Orion Falls, that certain no Marussian name if I've ever heard it."
He had kept his first name, and adopted the last name of Falls. In part out of panic when he was asked, and part because when he first got to this world he fell all over the place trying to learn how to walk again.
"Yeah yeah, whatever ya old crone." He chuckled and she laughed back.
She would often remark how he didn't sound like a colt. More of an old mare in body.
Mare. His attitude was often compared to that of mares. And he couldn't quite blame her for thinking that.
In this world, the mares, women, whatever, ran almost everything. Made sense as most of his victims were mares. Stallions were the stay at home family types and were often more demure and subservient. Also there were less of them for some reason, like, way under ratio. Something like one to eight, mare heavy.
Because of that ratio, mares would often herd up with one stallion and several "sister wives" so they could all have a man in their lives. Or stallion as it were. That's where the "mommies" comment came from. Often kids had more than one mom with all the sister wives in a herd.
It was a cultural blow for him to realize most mares expected to be deferred to in most situations. Many of the hawkers and stall managers were mares. Construction crews were mare dominated. Even the guard had more mares than stallions, stallions getting the often cushy paper pushing jobs. Anything that wasn't directly combat oriented.
He had realized with sudden clarity that the loss of that one from the night he snuck into the city was a major blow to the general population. It was a shock, but it again, made sense. Though the guilt hadn't increased over it.
But none of that was for him. He wasn't about to kowtow the line like that. He was his own man, colt, horse person, whatever.
So his attitude and actions were often compared to a mare.
Agnessa was often his first pit stop in the morning, he also got to hear any rumors from her first, and she always seemed to have an ear tuned for it.
The guard and council had finally gotten the mayor, or Mer, to begin repair on the outer walls. That tragic night's incident had finally given them the leverage needed to restore the ailing bulwark. Also patrols had been sent out, and those volk, were being hunted down and exterminated a month after the event. So, a justice of sorts. He still felt like shit, but at least something was being done.
Other rumors was most often divulged into who was losing their stall or the occasional murder that would make its way onto the tongues of everyone. Certain names were whispered but never spoken. The nature of those deaths made it all but certain that Stalliongrad has a crime family problem.
Once he got his fill of food and rumor, he would wave goodbye to Agnessa and start his day of looking for marks, locations to stash stolen goods, and more food.
It wasn't a great life, but he was well fed, and clean too. He had taken to washing in the public fountains dotting the wealthier parts of the city.
Of course, that wasn't to last.
The first breath of fall worked its way past his coat and bit at his fuzzy flesh. He had managed to buy a used one with few holes. A little time with thread and needle, pricking himself a dozen times, and he had pockets to put his ill gotten goods hidden away within. Maybe he should have put more padding between himself and nature instead.
He moved often, never staying too long in one busted ass building or another. His paranoia often led him to moving homes in the middle of the night. The clatter from marching guard patrols would often drive him from bed in a panic.
Today he was coming into the market from the north end. Having found a place to sleep in the basement of an old chapel nearby.
The chapel was built once in worship of a deity known as Celestia. He had often heard folks using her name in some form of curse or blessing. Mover of the sun apparently.
Basically she was Helios, or Jesus, they way some spoke of her.
The practice itself seemed to have long since been abandoned in everything but the most rudimentary of belief. Which led to the state of the church now, dilapidated, like so much of the ailing city. At least it was warm and dry.
Entering Market Chariot, it's what they called the eastern market, and really it did look like one of those ancient Grecian racing tracks from old, he made a beeline for Agnessa's stall.
His approach from behind the tent was halted abruptly when he heard a familiar voice.
"Celestia damnit, mother! I know you didn't steal anypony's purse! But these duncas have all been imbued with magic." The familiar sound of coins in a cloth bag rattled. "None of our guards have noticed anything, even those out of uniform, when the purses vanish right off them. Stones were often found in their place. Lately, it has been coal." The voice sighed heavily. "I'm not even supposed to be telling you this. As best that can be determined, it's always done in heavy press of hoof traffic when unicorns are in thick numbers." Orion's face fell, they at least had a race pegged. "We've traced many of the coins coming through you. Not all of it but a good chunk. All I am asking is if you have a suspicion for who the thief might be. That's it!"
The coin he had been stealing lately had been tampered with. Shit. They must have been getting reports. Was he too good? Or had he stolen from the wrong person. Double shit.
Agnessa's voice spoke up, hesitant at first, but firm, and surprisingly loud.
"A-and I'm telling you I don't know! I have all kinds of customers. Nopony has been very obvious if they are a thief. Everypony pays. Wouldn't be much of a thief if they were. I can't help you, Altai. Other than to tell you to wait around and test all the coins that pass through my hands."
She was a bright lady. Quick witted and sharp tongue. It's more than reasonable that she would come up with an idea like that so quickly. That hesitation also meant she had a sneaky suspicion who the thief was, and was betting he would come by to be snagged up by the cops, and she was speaking loudly in order to warn him should he be near. This was around the time he showed up every day after all.
Orion tiptoed away, being careful to keep the tents and potential customers between him and the guards that were surrounding Agnessa's stall. He hadn't noticed them at first, but as he drew further away they became obvious.
He dumped the coins in the fountain. He wasn't sure if they could track the signature like a bloodhound or not, but he wasn't taking the chance. He quickly bought breakfast at another stall and it panged his heart to spend the last of his duncas somewhere not Agnessa's.
Turns out he was right they could track money that had been contaminated with a certain magical signature. All his hiding spots throughout the city had been hit. From what he could tell, they just had to be close in order to recognize them.
Guards were everywhere, with unicorns amongst them. Horns alight and their heads waving back and forth. Searching. He had been far too confident.
They had begun stopping whole groups of people to scan their purses. Some were pulled away only to be released later for one reason or another. A couple were hung on to, from the shouting and arguing these women had priors. Almost no stallions were stopped.
It had been wise to get rid of all that money that was on him too. He had gotten lucky actually. Seemed to be a running theme for him as of late. Luck. Had he not visited Aunt Aggy's stall that day he would never have found out that they were onto him, and would have been blindsided by the fuzz.
He didn't know why he was so fearful of the city's equivalent to police, but the idea of letting himself be captured, or just turning himself in, made his stomach clench into knots that actually hurt. He knew enough now that he could simply pretend to be a poor lost little child, but his acting had been terrible even back on earth. He could lie with the best of them, but sealing the deal with a performance was beyond him.
He scurried toward the darker, less patrolled, portions of Stalliongrad. As it was, none of his 'bedrooms' were viable now. This forced him into some of the worst sectors of the city. If he was living in the ghetto before, this was the projects. With no financial support from the state, infrastructure was bare minimum, even the street lamps were darkened more often than not. The few alight were often done by the citizens themselves. An island of safety in the rough undercurrents of the neighborhood.
Many of the buildings were far worse than the hovels he had taken up residence in. Walls and roofs caved in, windows looking not much more than gaping eye sockets in the dark that had long since lost the wood supports. Creepy.
Any domesticated animals found here were feral almost entirely, it was one of the reasons why he stayed away. His one encounter with an alley cat had been terrifying. For such a little thing, it was vicious as hell and had almost taken an eye in its attack.
Food became a problem as well. Without money or the ability to freely move about the city to steal he was stuck with whatever he could scrape up.
Thank God he learned to fish with magic. So that kept him going for a while. At least till the river froze over during one of the coldest evenings. He hadn't even realized how cold it had gotten till he went out to one of the canals to get that night's dinner.
Water freezes quickly this far north.
It was around this time that his home, a warehouse that had collapsed in on one side, was invaded. Not by the guards. Nor by Agnessa either.
He had spotted her one evening, calling out and looking for him. Orion had been forced to avoid her. A pair of guards in the shadows not too far away had been following. Likely there for her protection, but he couldn't or wouldn't take the chance.
No, it was a horny mare who had purchased some time from a hooker. From a stallion hooker of all things. It was so weird that stallions made up most of the prostitution in the city. He had quickly learned of this his first few nights here, and why he often stayed away from the projects. This is where they haunted.
The thudding of hooves on dry rotted wood snapped him to full alertness faster than a cup of coffee. His eyes widened in fright, blood pounding in his ears.
As his senses honed in, his heart decelerated. But not by much once he understood the subject.
"Are you clean?" Murmured the quiet voice of a mare. Husky and deep for a female, it came out in a needy, demanding tone.
"Y-y-yes. Of course. They wouldn't allow me o-out here otherwise." The demure voice of a stallion spoke up.
"Good, good." She nervously responded. There was a rustle. "Now, rut me like you haven't seen a mare in years. Because I haven't been with a stallion in months. Not since that chit...you know what, you don't need to hear that. Get to work." Like a switch all nervousness had vanished from her lips. Only the demand still remained.
Orion peeked out just in time to see a small stallion's pants yanked down violently. A large shadow, of what he could only imagine was a dick, being pulled out by a much larger female earth pony. Her hands began coaxing the pillar of flesh to full mast.
He just stared in horrified fascination for a moment before ducking behind his little shelters propped up walls in embarrassment. Heat flushing his face. He had often wondered how sex worked here. And unfortunately for him, he was getting a front row seat whether he liked it or not.
He actually wanted to leave, but they were between him and escape. So he bunkered down to wait and tried to focus on anything else but what was going on in the room next to him.
The mare didn't wait too long either, which was both good and awful. She had shed her own pants, as Orion could smell her scent flooding the whole area they were all in and he barely stopped himself from gagging. Washing must not be a high priority for her. Or he hoped. He would never have sex in this world if it smelled like that.
Peaking out again, this time in hopes of finding a way to escape the unfolding scene of debauchery and worst, smell, he chanced a glance at the pair again and blanched. "Jesus Christ, Ron Jeremy would have been put to shame!" If that was average, the human men of his world would be questioning their manhood en masse. The dude's dick had to have been over a foot long bare minimum.
The mare decided a little more foreplay was needed, opening her mouth wide she took that stick to the root in one smooth motion. She didn't even look like she was struggling with it.
That was enough for him. Orion. Crawled back into his hidie-hole as deep as he could go and shut his eyes. It did not stop his ears though.
For a few minutes the sound of sucking echoed in his head as she was clearly going to town on that meat stick. Soon, not soon enough for him, she was done as the sounds of gagging had stopped. More groaning wood.
"Now buck me, buck me like your life depends on it!" She growled out.
Mr. Prostitute needed no further encouragement, squelching meaty slaps could be heard. Orion stifled a groan as he tried to cover his ears.
Yet the thudding, wet, pounding continued unabated. Moans and gasps from the pair reverberated in the stillness of the night.
Now somewhere in the back of Orion's mind, came a fun fact. In his world, stallions rarely lasted longer than two minutes. Or so he had read online at three a.m. on a weekday after snorting far too much coke. Clearly that rule did not apply here. As the smaller pony continued to plow into the larger one for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. All while the bitch moaned affirmations and worship to someone named Faust.
Till finally he whispered in a ragged breath, "I'm going to come."
"Don't you dare pull out!" She hollered back. Which seemed to be all the encouragement he needed as the sound of two or three hard and heavy thrusts slapped particularly hard. He brayed at the top of his lungs. Orion tried not to think about the fact that some dude was jizzing not five feet away from him.
Silence reigned in near totality for a few minutes, save for the labored breath of the pair who had been putting on a show for any who cared to look. Suddenly the sound of splashing liquid and the smell of bleach joined the piss and sex smells already invading the tiny room. He wanted to retch. This was so nasty.
The least this mare could have done was buy a hotel room or something.
"I've had better." She finally spat, the sound of a pouch of coins thudding into something, followed by the rustle of cloth. Hoofsteps retreated from the dilapidated building was all the indication he needed to get moving.
"Jesus…..no romance in that bitch at all." He would have to move soon as this guy left. He would never get to sleep with that smell in his nose. Speaking of the stallion, new noises began to echo, of him getting dressed Orion was hoping.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Orion nearly jumped out of his skin. It was soft spoken, but the venom was there.
He debated on responding at all.
"Fuck no, I was trying to sleep! And I certainly didn't need to learn about the birds and the bees at one a.m. in the fucking morning." He retorted. He was angry, they had woken him up. Assholes.
His voice caused a clatter. Did the idiot fall over? "A-a colt?!"
"Noooo, your mom's sex bot. Of course I'm a fucking colt! Who do I sound like, God?!" He lashed back at the stunned pony.
"W-w-what are you even doing here?!" Orion peered around his makeshift wall and watched the dude hide himself behind another post as he desperately tried to get his pants on. Now that he was looking he noticed they were rather slutty. Both sides of his ass were showing. There was something on his cheeks. Did he fall in his own splooge?
"Gee I don't know, I think somewhere in my opening salvo was the statement that I was "trying to sleep"!" He barked back, louder now.
"N-n-no, I mean w-w-why aren't you at home! Asleep in a bed!?"
Of all the stupid questions. Was this guy an idiot?
"Dude, do you need a fuckin' road map? Or is it not obvious!?"
He paused in pulling on the leg, almost falling over. "You're….you're homeless… you don't have a herd..." For once not a question and no stutter, just lost bewilderment.
"Very good, give the man a prize!" Orion began to pack his things. No point in being quiet now as he shoved what little he had in a small satchel he had purchased along with the coat, just before his luck ran out.
"B-but why?" Stuttering again. At least he had some pants on. In the waning moonlight he could see him clearly now. The too-close-to-being-chaps seemed to have some sort of nut cup that was attached as well, covering everything.
"Thank God, I didn't need to see that again." He answered him as he came out from around the wall he had wedged himself into.
"Because I don't have a family, man. I'm alone. So I sleep in busted down hell holes like this one." He gestured about him, one hand buttoning up his jacket. He looked down at the coin purse, still laying in likely cold excretions from the activities before. "Don't leave that behind. You earned it."
"I-i think I'll wait till it's frozen. It's unpleasant to hold when still wet." Made sense to Orion and he shrugged, and judging by the statement, this isn't the first time the stallion has been treated like this.
"I guess that's fair. But it's not quite winter yet so it's gonna take awhile." His horn lit up, basking the room in the familiar golden glow. He got his first good look at the stallion.
Skinny and small as hell, Orion actually came up to his stomach. Most ponies towered over him.
The gray furred, blond maned stallion squinted and raised a hand against the light. Orion noted with distaste the bruises and cuts on his hands and arms. This guy regularly got the shit kicked out of him.
"I'm Orion. You?" He glanced back at the pouch on the ground before looking at the older pony.
For a long moment he wondered if the stallion had heard him.
"Uh...I'm….I'm Stone." He finally replied. Unsure of himself.
He glanced at the pouch again and made a decision, a gross one but at least he wouldn't have to touch it physically.
"You got another purse on you?" The man took a step away from him and clutched at his side near his hip.
Orion sighed in exasperation. "Dude I'm not gonna rob you, I just wanna know if you have a spare one. No need to carry this nasty thing around if ya do."
"What?"
He groaned and his magic flared brighter.
The purse on the floor strings began to unwind in a golden black glow, any other night he would have liked to stare at that. His magic looked pretty to his eyes.
He worked quickly levitating the coins from their original place up to the surprised stallion.
"Here ya big idiot, take 'em. Leave that nasty thing if you can." The pony was so stunned that it took a cough from him before he got moving.
Quickly the coins disappeared into his own purse.
Both of them stood around for a second, not knowing what to do. Air misting in front of the two's faces. Not letting an embarrassing moment go to waste, Orion was the first to speak.
"Well this has been awkward as hell. Thanks for the impromptu education on the birds and the bees, Mr. Stone. But a new hole to crash in isn't going to find itself, and it reeks in here. So….yeah bye!"
He rounded around the silent stallion and made his way to the front of the building. He was grateful he had planned ahead, as he could see the first snow falls begin to fall silently outside. So much for not quite being winter yet.
"W-w-wait!" That annoyingly feminine male voice spoke up as he took his first step. Now he knew why his voice irked him so. He sounded like a certain asshole scientist that trapped him in horse hell. Only less happy, and arrogant.
"What?" He tried not to snap at him. Not his fault that his character was a meeker version of Burbidge, and the man was just treated like a dildo not even ten minutes ago, he could be nice for a change. "Sorry, stressful few months."
It was more than a few months but this dude didn't need to know that.
"You're...truly on your own? Nopony to help you?" His voice was steady for once, his gaze too. Pity filled his eyes. Orion wanted to hit him with something heavy.
He hated pity.
"Dude, I know it's hard to imagine. But some folks just don't have parents. I never did." Which was true. His parents had abandoned him early in his human life. He was lucky his mother's parents were made of better material. Even if he eventually failed them too, he noted with a snort. Just like good ol' mom.
More silence, and he was about to nope right the fuck off when Stone finally spoke.
"I have an extra room…. i-it's not the greatest but it is warm, a-a-and I'm sure a couch is better than cold floors in the outdoors."
Orion paused. If it wasn't for the scene before, this would have screamed trap to him. But this guy was just too pathetic, and it was too random to be a set up. But he still pondered it over. He was a five year old child, debating whether or not to take the offer of a room from a hooker horse. A whorse.
It IS bitter ass cold out. The odds of him finding another place to sleep tonight was damn near impossible, as bad things happened in Stalliongrad at night, and that would make him hesitant to trust any buildings till he could inspect them in the light of day.
"You don't bring your...what's the word….Janes? Yeah, Janes. You don't bring those home do you?" He asked, eyes narrowing.
"Janes….you mean…oh. Oh! NO! No, why would I ever want that…home?! No, I don't do…business there." He spoke calmer at the end, but for once he seemed angry. Angry at the suggestion.
Another minute went by, Orion still mulling it over. Shifting on his hooves he was reminded of something. Something that was digging into the right side of his stomach. How had he forgotten about it?
The knife, shiv, he had made a month ago.
He had gotten the idea to make some protection since he was being forced into living in the worst area of the city. With so many dilapidated buildings in his area, it was easy to gather enough rusted metal. He seriously hoped tetanus wasn't a thing here.
The tricky part was getting enough heat to melt it all together, so for a week straight he snuck into the smithy, avoiding detection like a boss, for forge coal.
"Avoiding detection like a boss", was what he told himself. But really he had been lucky that last night. The minotaur. Minotauress? The female had been alerted to the fact that her stock of coal had been dwindling little by little, and had laid in wait for the thief. He almost ran right into her ass when he had snuck up from the basement that night.
She must have assumed the burglar was somehow picking the lock at the back entrance of the shop to get in. It must have never occurred to her that the one pilfering her supplies might be a child that could push his way through a cellar window.
He had to be extra careful not to make a noise as he began putting coal into a stolen thick leather sack, her tail wiggling in the air much like a cat ready to pounce. Muttering and cursing quietly about how long this would take. That she had to work in the morning and that this thief should hurry the buck up so she could get some sleep.
It was a hard won fight to not even giggle.
It had occurred to him on his fifth or sixth trip there that he could have just stolen a knife. It would have been way easier. He quickly dismissed that after some thought. The problem was, he was a kid. Which meant his tiny ass hands wouldn't be able to hold a blade of a size meant for an adult. And he did not trust his telekinesis to move the weapon for him.
He was no Darth Traya. Though he did lay plans for the future to try and master something like that.
After his final theft he found a warehouse deep in the projects that was practically just a pile of rubble. But the basement was still intact, with loose stone that he used to set up his impromptu forge.
His grandpa had owned his own machine shop. Making products for custom orders and the like. He had taught Orion simple things, easy steps that were proving to be good advice.
"Now it's important to not just heat it up as fast as ya can, young man. You have to steadily build the heat, otherwise the metal you're using won't be heated evenly. After that you need to keep it roughly around the same temperature as you shape it."
He didn't have a hammer or anvil, but his magic helped, a little. After six or seven hours of constant heating and forcing the near molten iron, not hammering, he managed to get a roughly blade like object.
It was absolute shit.
In the light of day the blade itself looked like flat, dull gray, rock candy on a swizzle stick. It would have to do.
It took another two weeks to give it an edge, sharpening against stone whenever he could.
The result was a jagged blade, some four inches long and an inch wide. The tip had been sharpened to a point as best he could manage. The handle was wrapped in the leather of that sack he had stolen.
It looked nasty, and he hoped it would intimidate any would be problem that may rear its ugly head.
He flourished the blade in front of Stone. The silhouette in the dark got the stallion's attention immediately.
"I'm going to trust you, a little. Try anything and I WILL jam this so far into your dickhole your ancestors are gonna feel it. Got me?"
A nod and a squeak was all he got.
Unspoken Past: Part Three
Purple. That was certainly one word that could be used to describe his new lodgings.
It had been a quick walk and as luck would have it, well lit. It was quite the surprise to learn that Stone actually lived just outside of the projects, in a little apartment on the second floor above a baker's shop.
He had kept the older pony in his sights for their entire trip, hand gripping the hilt of his ghetto fabulous knife till he thought his knuckles would crack under the pressure.
Entering the home after the stallion, he was surprised by how spacious the place was. There was a kitchen, a living room, a main room that was either a living room or a family room given its size, and two doors leading to bedrooms on opposite ends. A third door led to a bathroom that had a surprisingly ornate tub of black porcelain. The sink and toilet shared the color.
No mirror strangely enough. Though he suspected why judging by his host's appearance. Still a fairly normal home.
The problem was, that aside from the wooden walls and floors, everything was in various shades of purple, save for the couch in what would turn out to be his room. That was covered in a golden blanket. Still, it was a miracle that the candle light hadn't given off a purple glow.
He was not going to complain. Already the warmth seeped into him, reminding him that he hadn't slept right in weeks. He struggled to ignore it. Instead, he tried to puzzle out how Mr. Stone was able to afford this fabulous place.
Turning he watched and waited on the stallion, the ball was in his court now.
Stone fiddled in the kitchen for a moment before turning to address him.
"N-n-now. I know this might be rude, but y-y-ou smell awful. I think it's best if you were to take a bath as soon as possible. W-when was the last time you washed?"
A good question, one Orion had to think about. When was the last time he had bathed?
"Uhh…not since…the fountains started freezing over at night. Didn't want to freeze to death trying to scrub my balls, and I doubted folks wanted to see a kid in the nude washing during the warmest parts of the day." He joked, "I think there are laws against that sort of thing."
He had been tempted to go back out into the wild to wash, but he feared another pack of those volk things laying in wait for him if he did.
A strange calmness washed over Stone then. Almost all the nervousness bled away as he hissed through his teeth. A look of disappointment etched on his face. And anger. Before Orion knew what was going on he was being pushed into the bathroom. He whipped out his knife, and the shoving stopped. It also helped that he growled out: "Don't you fucking touch me!"
"You are filthy. You could get sick. You need to wash, and wash properly." Surprisingly the stallion hadn't backed off, even if he had stopped pushing him, he still glared back. "Do you know what a 'bean' is?"
Vaguely he could remember something someone said on an eighth grade school trip to the local farm. Something about beans needing to be removed, but he didn't know what it meant. He had been too busy making goats faint in an attempt to show off. At the time he had just been discovering girls, and hadn't been paying attention to much of anything as he had been trying to talk to Vanessa Brand. First step was making her laugh. It didn't work.
"I might have heard it mentioned once. What does that have to do with you trying to force me into the bathroom? And might I add, which one of us smells like piss and cum?"
Stone ignored his jab, and told him what a 'bean' was.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." He muttered.
It turns out, Orion's tentative trust in the pony hooker was well placed.
During that first night, and with a fair amount of coaching from the other side of the bathroom door, the man turned pony learned some valuable lessons on pony genital care.
Health care in general for that matter. For the first time since his arrival, he was clean, his teeth brushed, till they bled but brushed, and he was warm. Despite himself, he slept like a stone. It wasn't till late the following afternoon when the smell of food woke him.
Once over his nervousness, Stone turned out to be an excellent host. His mannerisms reminded him strongly of his grandmother. The way he would cluck disapprovingly whenever he didn't finish his meal would either piss him off, or make him sad. The last time his grandmother had seen him was when they had cuffed him on tv. Or so his grandpa had told him.
He pushed those memories away.
Stone even ignored the fact that he needed meat. Only remarked how odd it was and picked up fish for him. He never pursued why it was odd, just went ahead and dealt with it. Though there was a moment that he watched as Orion bit into his fish the first time in front of him.
The look of speculation vanished in surprise. But instead of mentioning it, he just nodded and went about his own meal. Never bringing it up.
Life with the hooker horse was good. Just as he had promised, he never brought any Janes home with him. And while conversation was sparing between the two, the comfort of another seemed to do them both good. He found that he could tolerate the obscene amount of purple after all.
Bonus, he finally had access to real books. Orion's study turned bedroom actually held several bookshelves. It was another surprise that he could read the words in them, cheesy romance novels that they were. He hadn't had the chance at the library, and signs to shops only bore an image indicating what it might be for.
Life was finally looking up.
He even was contemplating Stone's advice on going to school. Not that he wanted to go through that bullshit again, but he needed to know this world's history, and find out what jobs might be available to him. He wasn't about to apply his original skill set here, that's what ended up landing him in this mess to begin with.
The other reason, and more important to him, is that he needed to learn about the people.
Already, he had learned that the wingless and hornless denizens of pony were known as Earth Ponies. The race was capable of manipulating to a great extent the earth beneath their hooves. Crops flourished at their tending. Walls and buildings stood firm at their shaping. Pretty cool stuff if it wasn't all blatant lies.
As the stallion had gone on discussing his races' unique traits, Orion realized just how much he didn't know. Ignorance might mean death if he wasn't extremely careful. It only seemed to reaffirm his need for knowledge.
Not to mention the prospect of there being magical schools meant he had best have the minimum beginning education if he wanted to learn more than just move things with his brain. And he would be lying if he didn't admit that the idea of wielding real magic had been a childhood dream of his. To be able to solve all his problems with a flick of his wrist. Or a thought as his magic was channeled through his horn.
By the tail end of winter, he was ready to tell Stone yes. Yes to going to school, of putting up with kids in order to improve his chances.
Of course the universe, God, fate, whatever, wasn't done fucking with him. He could only wish that there would be lube involved from time to time.
Orion placed the last dish in the cupboard. He had taken it upon himself to give back, at least a little, to the man, pony, who had taken him in. So he dusted, cleaned, and wiped down the house while Stone was "working" in the afternoons.
This also doubled as training for his magical skill in levitation. Already he was showing progress in manipulating multiple objects to complete each task individually. The matrix involved wasn't complicated, and just needed slight adjustments and a constant stream of magic to keep them going. It was a surprise to learn he had been subconsciously creating the framework for the spell without any sort of training.
But most unicorn foals did. Still him being human it was a big surprise.
It was like when he opened his eyes for the first time in this new world, he had trouble at first processing all the new information given to him with his enhanced senses. But living with the older pony had allowed him the practice he might not have ever gotten on his own.
He was sitting on the couch in the center of the living room, a book in hand, his attention only looking to be moderately on the activity in the apartment. Dust cloths flew through the air in his now familiar auras, cleaning various surfaces, dust and other particles also shared the same colors. They were lifted from the carpet and bare floor to be deposited into the waste bin.
The lie became apparent when noticing the sweat matting his fur. He was only barely paying attention to the book. The majority of his focus was on the cleaning, he was beginning to breathe hard with the effort. But he was sure he was making it look like the opposite.
A noise from outside startled him. Gently he put everything down and listened intently. It came again. A violent thudding, scuffling, sound and muffled noises coming from just outside the entrance to the apartment. It sounded like someone was pleading.
The sweat on his fur and skin turned very cold suddenly. Dropping the book on the floor he rushed to the entrance to check if the lock was still engaged, and to try to hear better. More scuffling, the sound of something heavy hitting something not. Stone's voice broke through, he sounded like he was talking with a mouthful of marbles.
"N-n-no please! He's just a foal! Y-y-ou can't do this!" Orion jerked back as the wall shook violently with impact.
Another voice rose from the hall. Female and the poster voice for Russian Bitch if he had ever heard one. "Then he will be easier to train you pathetic gav-no! You may have bought your freedom, barely, but he has yet to pay for his. You know the rules, yet you hid him from us." A grunt and the wall shook again. "Broad, get the door. Let's see our new little worker. From what Scout has told me, he's a rather cute little foal."
Orion didn't wait. Grabbing his jacket from the peg near the door he ran to the window to do something he had planned but never thought he would have to do after all this time living with the man. The handle jiggled and a muffled curse rose from the hall. Just as the first blow shook the apartment door, he shoved the window open and clambered out onto the short roof, his hooves slipping in the snow of the sleek stone shingles.
By the time the second blow struck, he was already pushing the window pane back down.
The crash came seconds later as he hid himself behind the brick work that jutted out, crouching low so the cloth awning of the baker's shop below, shielding him from anyone below. From anyone else's perspective from the ground, he had vanished. He hoped it would work for them too.
He strained to hear beyond the hammering of his heart. It sounded like World War Three was going off. He could distinctly hear the door in his own room crashing inward.
Minutes passed by as he jerked with each new destructive sound. Now coupled with shouting. Angry Russian shouting.
"WHERE THE BUCK IS HE!" KGB, because he didn't know her actual name, sounded just a little upset.
He shouldn't have, but he chanced a look into the main room. Stone had been dragged in and likely tossed to the floor in a heap. Standing over him was a very large earth pony mare in all leather armor. Metal plates had been sewn onto the chest and legs, as well as multiple smaller ones covering the stomach.
Bursting forth from his room was another, bigger mare. Dressed similarly she had a large ass hammer on her back.
Both mares looked similar. Pale green manes with yellow fur. One was darker than the other.
If the living room was any indication, the entire apartment was likely trashed. The couch had been tossed across the room and had put a hole into the bathroom wall, the kitchen looked like someone had fragged it.
"Jesus Christ! Like two wrecking balls…"
Stone's face was beaten in. But the heave of his chest indicated that he was still alive.
"Not in the room Scout said he slept in." The bigger mare said her voice was different than the first mare's, so he assumed that was Broad. The name certainly described her.
The shorter mare kicked Stone in the stomach, sending him skittering across the floor into the kitchen.
"Where is he?" She asked, dangerously quiet, she had stalked up to the downed stallion.
"I-i-i don't k-k-know….he sometimes...l-l-likes to l-leave...where he n-ever t-ells me…" He whimpered.
Orion's heart panged for him, the poor bastard didn't deserve all this shit, and he was lying through his teeth for him.
For a long moment, KGB stared down at him. "Broad Arm, go rouse Scout out of that bar on twelfth. If the flying rat is drunk, make him undrunk. Get him to search for the little mahl'-cheek. And if he protests, remind him just what he owes…"
The menace in her voice was heavy.
The fully named mare wasted no time, and stormed out of the destroyed front door, disappearing from sight. But not sound as her stomps reverberated through the building, even out here on the ledge.
"Why….why the colt, Moya…." Orion barely heard him.
"Moya? KGB is a better fit."
"Because, everypony pays their way. And Lady Violet Kisses, likes them young." She kicked him again before leaving. At the door she paused to look back at him once more. "If you try to hide him, all of this will seem like a fond dream."
With that she was gone.
Orion didn't move till he saw her head down an alley across the street, pulling a dark brown hood over her head.
Even then he didn't move for another ten minutes just in case. The chilling knowledge that they had someone who could fly scouting the air above for him sent a thrill of terror down his spine.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he looked into the window again. Stone was looking dead at him, and smiled. His mouth moved. Blood poured from his lips.
"Go. Hide."
Shame burned him as he clambered his way down a pipe and out an alleyway. He was getting really tired of running from his problems.
The rolled up scroll missed the waste bin. Again.
Moonlit Night groaned in defeat as her partner Yellow Tile cheered in triumph. The pair had come in that morning as any normal Tuesday. Cups of steaming coffee sitting before each of them at their respective desks.
At a little after ten, the day was shaping up to be the same as any other. Boring. Not that that was a bad thing. Boring meant all the little colts and fillies in town had homes, safe from hardship and abuse. Which meant their posting in the city was more of a precaution and tradition than anything actually necessary.
Wings for Foals was a pegasus run organization, though their members came from all races. They were under the parent organization, Hearts for Foals, and had chapters all over the known world.
Their duty was simple in thought if not always in execution. To ensure no filly or colt remained homeless, they did their job well. When their chapter had been opened in Stalliongrad some thirty years ago, it had been staffed by three dozen agents. The nation of Marussia had gone through a terrible civil uprising that cost the lives of thousands, and orphaned hundreds of foals.
The agent's of WFF worked tirelessly day and night to gather them all, and send them to viable orphanages around the world. Primarily in Equestria as they had the best facilities and adoption was guaranteed thanks in large part to the Princess's initiatives.
If not there, they were placed in loving homes pre-interviewed beforehand around the nation they were born into. After twenty years they had practically eliminated any need for their organization to even be there. It was one of the biggest accomplishments for the WFF, and sad too. There was barely a need for them now.
As a precaution, however, a small two pony contingent was left behind for any emergency cases that may crop up. More being available on call from Prance if necessary.
Sometimes they were necessary. Tragic endings did sometimes occur that left foals bereft of families. The agent's would step in and take care of them. But it was rare, and hadn't happened since Moonlit's tenure here. The two were in the second year of a three year service. In another year, two would replace them, and they would be assigned elsewhere. For now, the large building they quartered in, that stood against the need, sat quietly. Their organization hoped it would always remain that way.
"Looks like you're buying lunch, again." Yellow crowed at her.
The gray furred mare could only curse under her breath. This had been the seventh time in a row she had lost to the stallion. She could almost swear he was cheating, but there had been no air currents for him to manipulate in the small office, and he had no wings to stir the air. When did the unicorn get so good?
"Yay." She remarked sarcastically.
This is what they often filled their day with. The moment they woke up, they showered, dressed, and proceeded to clock in exactly at eight am.
At that hour it was still dark out, so they would wait till first light, one would remain at post while the other took to the air and hit up all the guard precincts in the city. Checking for any would be reports on possible orphaned foals. They had tried it the other way around. But he was on his hooves and traveled much slower than her. He had never been strong enough to use a teleportation spell, so they stuck to this routine instead.
Once every two or three months, they would check the outlying towns as well, and a guard on loan from the nearest station would remain as the pair was needed to cover all of the little hamlets that were in the surrounding area.
After that, they would come back to the office to file their report, and just sit around making up games to pass the time. Or read a book. She had been taking to naps rather religiously lately. The games ended up being a way to determine lighter duties. Such as determining who bought lunch, which she seemed to be losing a lot lately.
The bell chimed, both pairs' ears perking up and toward the sound. Yellow got up first, stretching his arms.
"Must be the mail. A little early, but I'll get it."
As far as partners were concerned, he was an amicable stallion. They would have likely been lovers by now had she not had more of an interest in mares. But he never judged, or pushed for anything. Nor did she for his own activities. He sure likes them older, that was for sure.
She adjusted her desk and went to get a food brochure for one of the various restaurants around town, when Yellow's panicked voice shouted for her from the front.
Menu forgotten, she rushed to the main hall, and skidded to a halt.
A diminutive stallion stood in the entryway. His clothes were torn, and there was blood staining his gray fur. His head looked to have suffered the worst of whatever beating he had received. Wrapped in bandages with his left eye swollen shut he looked like he needed the hospital, not the WFF.
"How can we help you…sir? If you have been the victim of domestic abuse, we can put you into contact with a local shelter." She rattled out quickly. Sadly, this was not the first time a situation like this had come up. For Stalliongrad, Marussia as a whole, domestic violence was a massive issue. Nopony really knew how to put a stop to it.
"N-no….I uh….I'm….I'm here to report an orphan. A colt." He whispered. If not for her hearing she might not have heard him at all. His voice was hollow, almost void of any kind of emotion.
She could feel her eyes nearly bulge from her head, and a quick glance at Yellow showed what likely was the same on her face. Disbelief and a fair amount of panic. "Please," she gently took the smaller stallion's arm and guided him to a chair, "tell us what happened."
It took awhile, but it eventually all came out and left them stunned.
They had heard of the Smirnoff crime syndicate before. They had their hands in a lot of illicit activities, including pony trafficking. But the story Stone told them was so much worse than either Equestrian born native could have imagined. As they got to a description of the foal, Yellow's head jerked back in surprise, "Hey, didn't we get a report about a missing colt last week that had that same description?"
They had. Moonlit scrambled from her chair and ran to their office.
A few months ago, an older mare by the name of Agnessa Proud had come in reporting a missing colt as well. Well the report had been filled through her daughter, Commander Altai Proud. They didn't get the report till a week ago and had yet to find any leads about it. The trail had long since gone cold, but the agents had not yet given up hope.
In the report, the mare had claimed that the colt had come to her shop everyday before heading off to school, or going to play on the weekends in the local parks.
Several interviews with the locals in the market also backed up the older mare's claims. But when they went to all three schools in the city, nopony had ever heard of the colt.
The mystery colt, Orion Falls, had never been found.
She came back with the file and asked Stone to confirm the description and name. It was a match. Yellow and Moonlit looked at each other. They finally had a location, the Zloye Mesto, Stalliongrad's notorious Death Alley.
Orion scowled as his stomach once again announced that it had been three days since his last meal. He was getting really tired of the constant gnawing reminder.
It has been nearly two weeks since he had bolted from Stone's apartment in the early morning. Spring had come, but it was still too cold to sleep comfortably outside. He had been spoiled with the few months he had spent in the cozy warmth of the hooker horse's home.
Two weeks of running and hiding in the night. Two weeks of careful watch of the sky for the asshole known as Scout. Turns out, Scout is a griffon, and he has amazing eyesight. Might be something to the name.
He had spotted him on more than one occasion, swooping down in an attempt to snatch him up. His last encounter with the flying demon ended with him cutting the bastard's face with his crudely made knife.
The memory of that shriek of pain kept him warm at night, serves the fucker right.
After that last tussle, Orion had taken to traversing the sewers. Not something he enjoyed considering there are literal shit mountains sitting in the larger chambers. The smell alone almost made him pass out.
He also found it difficult to open the manhole covers. It took both his magic and his limited physical strength to heave them off the hole and pull them back again. Despite his ability to handle multiple casts now, his strength was nearly as weak as he physically was. Only anger or panic seemed to give him more umph with his magic.
He idly wondered if there was a correlation between physical strength and magical strength as he watched the mouth of the alley for any movements.
The sound of skittering broke him from his musings. A rat had come out of one of the broken down buildings in the dead end alley he had taken residence in the past two days.
He checked the skies. No flyers. His stomach growled. This was going to be so gross.
"Please Mr. Rat, don't have a disease. And…umm sorry about this."
His horn flashed and before the poor fuzzy bastard had time to run back the way he had come he had snatched it up in his telekinesis and snapped its neck with precise pressure.
The rodent let out one strangled shriek, and was silent. Orion ignored the sudden queasy feeling. He had to eat. But feeling that sensation in his head was sure to last a while.
Slicing open the dead animal's abdomen, he pulled out the innards with a grimace. Then sheathing his knife, not bothering to wipe the blood off, and set to peeling back the skin and ate what little meat he could find on the poor beast. He wished he had a fire to at least cook the damn thing.
Two minutes into his meal, two ponies rounded the corner of the dead end alley he was in. The pair were in some type of uniform. Orion stared like a deer in the headlights, and so did they. One a skinny yellow stallion doubled over vomiting into the streets. His companion, a gray furred mare with a purple mane, her blue eyes bulged in shock and very obvious disgust.
Both wore navy blue jumpsuits with an emblem on the left breast, a patch of something could be seen on both right shoulders, but he wasn't sure what that acronym WFF meant. The emblem was simple yet stylized.
Both parties watched each other. Till the mare spoke up.
"H-hey there little colt."
Three thoughts flash through Orion's mind. One, that there were certain types of people who used that phrase, though a little different between them. Two, they had not been so much as surprised to find him here, but what he was doing. And three, they had been clearly looking for him as they were much too far away to actually know what gender he was.
He cursed and his horn lit up again. He used what was left of the carcass as a projectile and threw the rat at the yellow one's face since he seemed the most squeamish. He shrieked and ducked for cover.
All hell broke loose at that point. The mare dove for him instead of dodging out of the way of his bloody missile. He danced just out of reach and tossed random debris around, his panic giving his magic strength.
"Fuck you! Ya rat bastards! You'll never take Major Benson Winifred Payne alive!"
He had absolutely no idea why he was screaming out fictional movie characters' names, but it did it's job in bringing the pair up short whenever they lunged for him. He kept it up, going from a terrible Shaggy impression, to a passable Bugs Bunny snide remark.
The mare was the first that managed to snatched him up; she had flown over a hastily thrown bundle of clothing wire as he had dodged a slow grab by the yellow unicorn. He didn't hesitate, and yanked the knife out again and stabbed her with it. The dull thunk of metal meeting metal under cloth echoed in the night surprised them both. She was wearing body armor under that jumpsuit.
The shock of being stabbed fortunately was enough to get her to drop him. Scrambling to his hooves he hit her with a barrel that had been lying against a crate.
All this magic useage and the lack of sleep, was starting to put a strain on him. His horn throbbed slightly, and he was developing a headache. He had to get away before his magic, and his strength, failed him.
He was never going to make it to a manhole cover. It was too heavy for one, and those two thugs were far too close to really trust his short legs to get him there.
He made a mistake and took a step toward the building he had come from instead, taking his eyes off the pair. The stallion struck, dragging him to the ground and trying to pin his arms, Orion's knife flailing about ineffectually.
When it looked like it was over, he attempted his tried and true method. Verbal confusion.
"Knock knock!" He screamed out.
A quizzical look flashed over the yellow stallion's face as he got within arms reach with a strange black ring. "Who's there?" The unsure masculine voice replied. Another surprise, he wasn't Russian.
"Your mother was a whore!" Using his free hand, the one with the knife was pinned, he punched him in the eye.
The pony reared back and got to his hooves, hollering in pain that ended abruptly when Orion hurled the large crate that had been with the barrel at him.
He hoped he hadn't accidentally killed the man, he didn't want murder on his conscious even if this duo was up to no good. Wasting no time, he bolted for the building once more. Unfortunately the gray one was waiting for him. She grabbed his wrist with the knife held in the hand, and slung him around to face plant the ground.
Classic police take down move.
He strained to work his magic again, but suddenly he lost his grip on a small grate to a sewer drain. Something had settled around his horn and he suddenly lost a sense of the world. Not completely, just as if his ability was bottled up somehow.
"Whew, I've never been a part of a rescue like this." Chirped the lilt voice of the mare currently over him.
"Rescue? This was a fucking rescue?!" He chose not to outwardly respond, instead glaring at her with his left eye.
"Oh don't look at me like that." She chuckled. She called over her shoulder, "Hey, hornhead?! Ya still alive?"
A groan was the only response she got. She just laughed even harder.
He growled in frustration, and looked around him for anything he could use to get this bitch off him. That's when he spotted her.
Moya, a.k.a. KGB, was standing just inside the shadow of an alley across the road. Behind her was Broad Arm. They were both glaring daggers, and adjusting weapons.
When their eyes met, she smiled, and took a step forward. His heart sank.
A team of twelve ponies and griffons in armored uniforms burst from around the corner, skidding to a halt just into the alley on their side. Past them he could just see the mob pony pull short of stepping fully out, the scowl returning to her features.
"You said to wait about ten minutes, but we heard what sounded like a battle. What the buck happened?"
Just when he thought he was safe. He knew that voice. Agnessa's daughter. Commander in charge of the gate the night he snuck into the city and caused the deaths, inadvertently, of four people so many months ago. At this rate he was going to die before anyone could charge him.
"Nothing, we managed to rescue the colt!" The mare on top of his back replied far too cheerily.
A pause.
"I'm sorry, but is that all you're gonna say? It looks like a Celestia damned warzone went on here!" She fumed back. "What happened here, Agent Night? Why is your partner sporting a black eye?"
The now named Agent recounted his capture, she had a good memory. In that time he was hauled up onto his hooves. Days of not eating and getting enough sleep finally hit him as the adrenaline rush fled his body. It was all he could do to stay upright. She held him up easily enough.
Exhausted as he was, he paid attention, and he was shocked to learn that they had known about him for months. Agnessa, bless her heart, had filed a report when he had stopped visiting her in the eastern market.
Stone was the one that helped them pinpoint where he was. He supposed that the poor stallion was scared for him so badly that he had ended up going to the authorities. He wanted to be angry, but if KGB and her crew being here was any indication, then he was grateful. Luck. He was starting to think that was his real talent in life. No matter how fucked he seemed to be, it always ended up in his favor somehow. Even if he could't see it at that particular moment.
Speaking of luck, the alley across the road was now empty. Hopefully, they would give up now, and he could figure out how to get outta this mess after a little rest. The stallion known as Yellow had finally come around. His left eye now had a shiner the size of a golf ball. Orion grinned maliciously. That had been a more solid hit than he first thought.
Before long he was shuffled into a carriage and whisked away.
Moonlit could only blink in shock again as she went over the notes from the interview and medical exam, for what felt like the hundredth time. From what they could drag out of the colt, he had been the thief the guard had searched so hard for, for months.
Normally, a pickpocket is an easy pony to capture. Their arrogance at avoiding detection almost always gave them away in the end. Orion had a successful career for almost a five month spree, and he avoided their traps. Apparently, he had been onto the guard the moment they had started setting up decoy coins for him to easily snatch. Commander Altai Proud had come back with nearly six coin purses worth of marked duncas that had been left sitting at the bottom of an eastern market fountain. None of the other sites they had found had indicated who the perpetrator was, and observations on those places yielded nothing. He had never gone back for them.
She was understandably upset. But Moonlit was impressed.
No amount of prying could get him to tell them how he knew, either. He only bragged openly, a cheeky smile that only made the insults he hurled at them regularly both funny and somehow worse.
When asked about his family however, he clammed up tighter than a bureaucrat on payday. He only said he had been alone for almost a year. And that was it.
Commander Proud had tried to threaten him with imprisonment, but he had just laughed in her face. It was clear he was not an ignorant little foal. Or he was now just so ballsy after finally being rescued that he just flat didn't care. Either way, the mare had to be dragged from the room. He had an infuriating manner about him.
The exam had made this case go from the already bizarre situation, to concerning.
He was healthy, if a little sleep deprived and malnourished. But his dental examination sent one tech scurrying from the room in a panic. He had canines. A blood test confirmed what the teeth suggested. The little pony ate meat. Needed meat in fact. That certainly explained the rat. She would have nightmares over that one.
The medical examiner wanted the null ring removed to test his magical ability, but that had been shot down quickly. There was no telling what he might be able to do in a hospital room full of sharp objects. The gleam in his eye when it had been suggested all but confirmed her fears. Yellow had paled visibly.
Moonlit instead explained what happened the night of his capture. And the examiner outright refused to believe it. Her words: "It is impossible for a pony his age to control that many skeins at once. They barely have enough wherewithal to lift a teacup without dropping it as it is. They do not have the control of an adult."
She remembered watching the colt's eyes widen as he watched from his place on the examiner's table. Her and Yellow decided not to push the issue, but remained firm on the events.
She took a drink of coffee, her eighth cup that evening. It had been six days since they had rescued him from the streets, and she hadn't been getting much sleep as she and Yellow alternated between trying to find any family he might have had, and watching him. Since his rescue he had made only one escape attempt.
Captured him was a better phrase. He acted like this was more of an arrest than a rescue. He resisted every act of kindness, and after the first attempt at escape that had actually almost succeeded, they had been forced to confine him to one of the cells instead.
There was one last glaring irregularity. Comparing him to any other foal his age was impossible. The blood and teeth examined put him roughly around five or six. Closer to six they assumed. But he acted like he was of an age with everypony else that had interviewed him. Foals his age would have a hard time speaking more than a few words with consistent understanding. Also they wanted to play and do foal-like things.
Orion Falls shared none of those traits.
In fact if you were to hear him and not see him, you would think you were talking to a young stallion. Wise beyond his years, but a young stallion all the same.
And one last thing. He did not sound Marussian. Oh there was a bit of the accent in his voice, but he sounded like he originated from Equestria instead. Though when quizzed on the possibility, he only remarked: "Heard of it, never fucking seen the place."
His language was absolutely terrible. He spoke clearly and often used big words, but the tone and verbage were crude beyond belief for one so young. He never used proper pronouns either. Always "everybody" or "someone". It was very reminiscent of the way griffons spoke to one another.
She shook her head and finished filing her copy of events. Both agents felt it best to heavily redact the information in the report. The original would remain here, and a complete copy would be sent to headquarters in Trottingham. But the file that would accompany him would be heavily censored. It would give him the best chance of finding a home once he got into Equestria proper.
That had been another decision. With Stone's report they had learned that the Marvata family, a branch of the Smirnoff crime syndicate, had been pursuing the colt for more than a week.
Family was a mockery of what they truly were. Thugs and murders loosely tied together, spread across Marussia. Even having some members working in Prance and Equestria itself, though their movements there were heavily monitored in the latter.
In light of this knowledge, they had decided sending him to Equestria, rather than trying to find him a home in the country and putting him in even greater danger of being snatched up by the Marussian mob again, was the best thing for him. She had finally won as well. Like everything else, they decided who would do what, through competition. After a tight race she had eked out the win, if barely. So she would be escorting him to Manehattan at the insistence of HQ.
The tickets were already purchased for the flight, an airship would be arriving for it's monthly circuit by tomorrow afternoon. The timing had been fortuitous as she wasn't sure her and Yellow could contain the little tartarisian much longer.
Orion stepped into her office, that should not have been possible for two reasons. One, it was the middle of the night and he should be asleep. Two, his current residence was in a cell. He held up a crooked nail.
"It's not that hard to pick a lock when the tumblers are so big." He held up a hand before she stood. "Not gonna run. Honestly, leaving now would likely get my ass beat. Not by you, but those assholes I've caught watching the building. Twice now by the way, you should do something about that before they get bold."
She knew who he had meant, but had been a little surprised that he knew about them as well.
Commander Proud had been the first to notice, and had set a guard force to watch the building. They would remain till she came back from Equestria to insure her partner's safety. Being a stallion alone was always a risk, worse now that the mob was involved.
Her exasperated look seemed to wash off him like water off a duck.
"I would ask where you found that, and how you learned to pick locks, but I doubt you'll tell me. Can I ask what you want then?" She folded her arms beneath her breasts, a frown creasing her features.
"I want the fuckin' ring off me. It's starting to itch, and I've had a headache from the pressure the last two days. So I'll make a promise, a deal if you would. You take it off, and I won't run. I won't make it far anyways with things as they currently are." He fairly growled, his teeth flashing in anger and giving her more than a little shiver.
She was silent a minute, odds were he was telling the truth. It seemed he either didn't answer, or spoke the truth when asked. Hopefully, Yellow wouldn't berate her over this.
"Come here." He leaned forward and she plucked the ring off, and he sighed in relief.
"Oh thank Christ." A name for an individual he had refused to explain during earlier conversations, though it seemed to hold some religious connotations with how much he invoked the name. She only shook her head ruefully as she watched him rub at the place the ring was.
"I gotta ask. How the hell do those things work? I should've been able to yank the damn thing right off, but it feels like it was stuck on with Gorilla Glue. So, spill the beans."
Maybe a little conversation would ingratiate herself to him, and he might open up more on their two week trip across the ocean.
"What in Tartarus, is Gorilla Glue?"
"Null rings aren't truly made entirely of null stone. I'm not sure what goes into it but there is binding rock on the inside. See here, you can see the difference of material on the inside." She pointed at the dull gray stone ring, running a finger along where it seemed to suddenly change to black on the inside. "Everypony calls it 'Binding Rock', but it's actually a chemical reagent that activates when only one magical signature is present. Creating a perfect seal. When another magical signature touches it, it deactivates temporarily allowing for its removal, but without another magical source, the ring will stay on. Keeps unicorns from escaping their restraints. The chemical has a lot of uses outside of null rings as well. Such as airships that you and I will eventually be flying on tomorrow."
"Huh, a chemical reagent that is activated by magic. Now that's interesting…maybe it functions kinda like a magnetic lock." A speculative look fell on his face. It was seriously cute. Though again his wording was confusing.
"What under Celestia's Sun is a magnetic lock?" The colt just raised more and more questions, speaking of things she had never heard of.
"Well now that I've given you something to think about, why don't you go on back to bed? We have to be up early so we can make it to the landing site outside the city."
He gave a look that she couldn't read before shaking his head. "Fine, how long is this trip gonna take?" He asked, making his way to her door.
"Roughly two to three weeks, the weather will determine whether or not we get there sooner. We should arrive at the end of May, maybe the beginning of June." She replied, shuffling the paperwork.
"Jesus, can we please pack some reading material?” He muttered heading for the door.
She just laughed and shooed him out the door. Of course they were gonna have reading material, she wasn't about to be that bored. Though she was beginning to have fantasies of finding a partner among the crew for the trip.
When said airship came into view, he had honestly been expecting a dirigible. Instead, it was a literal ship with strange slender balloon-like structures supporting it from above.
The ship reminded him of a picture he once saw in his seventh grade history book. The Santa María, just longer. Both the forecastle and sterncastle rose several feet above the main deck. Rigging ran from the ship to the cloth fabric that held gas, or heated air, he didn't know which.
There were no masts, except for the little stick at the front, the bowsprit if he remembered correctly, which also had lines running to and from the balloons as well. His nautical construction knowledge was really being put to the test today.
There was the surprise of somewhat modern engineering attached to the sides and bottom of the ship, four engines that looked like tubes with rear facing propellers. There were no pistons, no heat sinks, nothing familiar to what he knew a prop driven engine should have.
All in all, it was a Franken-ship.
No wonder it was gonna take them so long to get anywhere, there was absolutely nothing aerodynamic about the lumbering hulk. And as it came in for a landing, nothing the crew did to speed the process convinced him otherwise.
They had been escorted out to the landing site by a team of twenty guards. Commander Proud was with them, insisting on making sure this was done right.
Her mother, not too much of a surprise to Orion given her track record of kindness, had shown up at the rescue he had been staying at that morning, fussing and hugging him. Being a grandma basically. She chastised him for running away and exclaimed what she would have done had she found out beforehand that he was an orphan.
He endured it all with as much grace as he could. She had been one of the first to show him kindness after all, so he would be an awful shithead if he protested. Besides, more and more he was being reminded of his own grandmother through her. It was nice.
Stone never showed up. Orion only hoped he got outta this mess alright. If the stallion had any sense, he was already a long way from Stalliongrad hooves a-churning.
As they left the building, he spotted Moya and only her, sitting at a cafe half a block down from the WFF. She was drinking what he assumed was coffee and glaring at the group as they passed.
In a bout of pettiness, when their eyes met and she gave a sneer, he ran a thumb across his throat and pointed right at her. The sneer left her lips, her eyes wide in surprise. Orion had already made plans to return here once he was grown. This mare and her goon troop had made the last few weeks of his life here hell. He would return the favor, somehow.
Soon the procession had made it out of the city and traveled a mile or two, he never was a good judge of distance, and now they watched as the ship came in on final approach.
The vessel finally came down in the wooden cradle that had been set up with some sort of cloth cushion with a solid thump. In a feat of surprising engineering, the two props at the bottom of the vessel folded like claws in on themselves.
That was seriously cool.
It may behoove him to ask as many questions as he could during the trip. Plans began falling into place within his mind. He could revolutionize this industry. The more he thought, the more he realized something profound. He just might have found his niche in horse society.
It didn't take long for cargo to be offloaded and new goods be pulled aboard. During that time his one escort and him said their goodbyes, he got another hug from Agnessa, and of course some baked goods the mare had cleverly hidden from view. She was such a grandma.
They were both shuffled aboard shortly before take off. They shared a cabin, much to his disgruntlement, and surprised that his guard shared the same sentiment. Mumbling something about wishing the ship had been another.
He didn't have much, just some books he had managed to snag from the small library in the building he had stayed in the past week, as well as two changes of clothes, not much could be procured for him in such short notice but at least he had plenty of underwear.
She had a much larger bundle of what he suspected was the same as his own. Their cabin had another room with a bathroom setup, including a standing shower, that caused him to pause.
While there had been rudimentary plumbing within Stalliongrad, he had noticed when peeking into buildings that there was a distinct lack of modern washing facilities. Just a copper tub in what could only be assumed was a bathroom.
To suddenly see a mostly modern shower was a bit jarring. He shrugged, at least he wouldn't be a nasty mess for the trip.
When Moonlit wasn't looking he slipped outta the room and headed for the front of the ship. Standing at the railing of the forecastle, he watched as they took to the air. The thrum of the ship's engines engaging, vibrated through his hooves.
From the moment he stepped into this crazy fucked up world of horses and legends he could not tell what was coming next. In that moment, with sun just over the horizon at his back, he made a promise to himself.
"Knowledge. If I don't fucking learn I doubt I'm gonna survive."
He would learn, he'd learn all he could of everything, be a jack of all trades. He turned from the view as they began to pick up more speed. His first stop was the engine room, he wanted to know how those engines ticked.
He grinned. "Let Moonlit chase my ass all over the ship."
His cackle startled a mare while she was rolling up a mooring line. He dashed to the decks below, beginning to formulating questions.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. With a grateful sigh, Daisy slid the last file into the packet.
Tomorrow she would send off Orion's application with a hired mail pegasus. His acceptance was already guaranteed by an acquaintance at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, but formalities needed to be met.
Silent Scritch had been more than happy to work with her in the short time frame she had in order to get him in. The stallion had even exclaimed how nice it would be to sign up a colt. Too few had been entered into enrollment this year.
She chuckled ruefully. Orion was unlike any colt she had ever met, and she was unsure whether the academy would be prepared for somepony quite like him. While his scores showed academic brilliance it was his personality and the way he interacted with everypony around him that really stuck with her. Cordial despite his crass introduction in purposely causing fear amongst the current little residents of her orphanage, he had made no attempt to antagonize anypony further for the most part. Other than one incident of butting heads with Golden Trot, he purposely avoided any attempt to make any connections with the rest of the foals in her care. He just kept to himself, and avoided all unnecessary contact with the others.
Though Screaming, Celestia bless her little heart, was giving it her all to befriend him despite the walls he had erected.
The few times she had caught them together he would have this bemused expression on his face as she excitedly gushed about whatever held her interest at that particular moment. Being five years older than him the roles seem to have reversed somehow, Orion being the patient older sibling and Screaming being the excitable filly, chick in this case, wanting to do everything with the older brother. It was rather cute, and she hoped the little hen to-be would break him of his shell.
It did help that he was unusually tall for a pony of his age; he was only an inch or two shy of her own height.
She felt bad for the young griffon. She had been here since she was six. A victim of the border riots between Griffonia and Equestria seven years ago. The trauma had caused her to forget much of her life, the little she had lived before then. But there was a bright point. A pair of griffons had been making inquiries of her lately. That had yet to meet, but the correspondence was encouraging if nothing else.
Putting the packet in the out box to remind her for tomorrow's delivery, Daisy's hip bumped a letter that had come almost a week later than expected.
Cloudy had, unfortunately, run into trouble. Major trouble.
This mare, this Backwater, had certainly made her ire known. She was more trouble than Daisy had been led to believe when her friend had first mentioned the mare. She had always been more hyperbolic than anypony else, but she had been proven unfortunately correct.
The moment her friend had stepped hoof off of the train back in Manehattan, she had been arrested, searched, and detained for almost a week. The letter hadn't even come from her but rather a relative of Azure Dream's, mostly as a warning.
As of right now, both of their licenses have been suspended, as they waited for a review of their actions. It was anypony's guess as to what would come next, but the message did indicate that all would eventually be well.
Their lawyer was Azure's cousin, the same one who had sent that letter. She sounded quite confident.
The fact that there was a letter on her desk from the CFP that she had yet to open made her stomach sink. True that the CFP had no authority to command anypony of anything here in Canterlot, it still made her uneasy to know that they knew exactly where he had been taken.
She pushed the unopened letter around on her desk and wondered what the consequences would be if she just ignored it. Again, they certainly had no power here, but she worried about the trouble they could make with the connections they did possess in the city. Among the noble class especially.
She was happy that whatever they tried wouldn't be direct. As much of a bit pincher that Mr. White was, it meant the stallion would also not wish to pay entry fee to an organization that charged a pretty bit, not to mention the yearly tribute she had heard was levied against richer members.
No, she had no fear for the loss of the orphanage's sole source of funds.
She decided to ignore the letter for the moment. As another had caught her eye. More of a scroll rather than the more popular closed envelope designs that had taken the country by storm the last ten or so years.
It was an official answer to her request for an audience for the Sun Court itself. The wax seal had already been snapped the moment it came in that morning, the contents making her smile widely. Not only was she getting her appointment with Day Court, but it was scheduled for that afternoon. Her hope had been met, she would be able to pose her request to the Sun Princess herself.
Looking at the clock adorning the wall of her dark paneled office, she gave a start. It was already half past eleven. Not much time to get ready and be on her way.
Fortunately, a guard had already been dispatched from one of the nearest local stations, placed around the city to watch over the foals while she was away. She was down there now in the playroom with them now, no doubt regaling the little ones with hopefully very censored stories from life in the guard.
She really wished Mr. White would allow funding for another Directress, or even at least an assistant to help manage the orphanage when she needed to be away. She shook her head, dark green mane bun wobbling, as she made her way to get ready to leave.
It was intimidating to say the least.
The Royal Court of the Sun was a massive oblong rectangle shaped room of white and gold, with massive drapes of purple cloth suspended from the ceiling, they were drawn back by anchors on the walls and barely missed the floor. The long cloth had ornate golden needle work of intricate patterns with archaic patterns. Only the Royal Throne room was bigger, and supposedly done in much the same way.
The chamber itself had an audience box on the left side, so that ponies that wanted to sit in on any judgment made, usually the old or socially bored, could spectate without having to stand.
On the right was a similar box for the nobles themselves, only they had the option of raising objections or support of their own should a case touch on a personal interest of their own. She could see her patron sitting near the rear of the box, deep in conversation with a mare she did not know. Fortunately for Daisy, he had not noticed her.
Behind both sections, sitting between those drapes, were rows of spaced windows of beautiful stained glass depicting the early history of Equestria. They casted the most beautiful colors that she had ever seen as the sun shone behind them.
On a raised dais of white marble and gold trim sat the Throne of Judgment.
Gilded in gold, a purple cushion made the hard ornate chair comfortable looking. And upon that cushion sat Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria, mover of the Heavens herself.
She was all of white, soft and warm; her large wings shifted occasionally as she listened to a petitioner ahead of her. Her spiral patterned horn graced with a gold chain delicately held in place by a pair of thin bands of gold, swayed with each movement as she nodded along. The thoughtful and compassionate smile she bore made an already beautiful face glow with the love and warmth she was known for.
Daisy was not one to compare herself to others, but the Princess was leagues ahead of any mare she had ever seen.
The robe the Alicorn wore was white as well, to match her fur, belted and gilded heavily in gold with purple gemstones embedded inside spoke of the wealth and power of her nation.
And she was about to speak to her.
The butterflies in her private garden at her family's home could not match the size that existed in her stomach currently. Beating hard for all they were worth.
"Mrs. Evergarden?" The voice of somepony startled her out of her own thoughts, her hand on her throat, she looked around till she spotted the speaker standing only a few paces from her.
A tan, almost black, earth pony mare stood to her left, a modern day navy blue business suit, black horn rimmed glasses, and a clipboard her only adornments had spoken to her.
"Umm….yes?" She responded. Worried she had done something wrong, she fidgeted with her ledger.
"It is your turn, Mrs. Evergarden." She was stern in her reply, but not unkind. She gestured forward.
In her musings, she had not realized that the Princess was waiting on her now. She nearly jumped in her haste to stand before the Throne. She heard somepony lightly laughing to her right. She fought down the blush that blossomed on her face, and staunchly refused to acknowledge the pony that had practically mocked her.
Power. It radiated off the immortal before her. Causing her tongue to stick to the roof of her mouth.
Princess Celestia waited for a moment, a thoughtful frown pulling down those beautiful lips. Then she smiled.
"This must be your first time meeting me in pony I assume?" She chuckled lightly. "Be at ease, Mrs. Evergarden. I will not bite." She playfully added, and despite herself, Daisy laughed.
Then tried to strangle the sound, it coming out like the last croak of an old bullfrog.
More laughter, this time from multiple sources. She blushed harder.
One of those sources was the Princess, but it seemed not directed in a mean way toward her.
"Thank you my little pony. The day has been long and I did need a laugh to break up the monotony, I hope you don't take it personally. Shall we get to your request?" A quick nod is all Daisy trusted herself with at the moment. She could not even think! "Miss Write? You have her request on hand?"
"Yes, your Highness." The same earth pony mare from before shifted a few papers around a desk that the directress had not noticed before, black mane bobbing around in a tight bun similar to her own. Pulling open a folder she nodded to herself and presented it to the monarch.
A warm golden light sprouted about the file, and it slowly lifted from her hands to drift the Princesses's own. Minutes passed as she perused through what the folder contained.
"Ah I remember now, this is about funding for your orphanage." There was a sharp scrape from the right, but nothing more. "Miss Inkwell did you include….ah here it is…."
A frown began to crease her features. "This shouldn't be right. Why is your orphanage operating at three times the reduced cost?" She asked sternly.
Daisy was at a complete loss for words. She had not been aware she was running on a deficit!
"I….I-I don't know, your highness." She tried not to squeak when the Princess fixed her with a look. Finding courage she didn't know she had spoken on quickly, "I have only ever made use of the funding I had received. In truth had I not taken on one more foal this year I would have not made the request so urgent…"
Truth was she needed more funding despite taking Orion into her care, but she had been honest when she made her claims. Lying to her here and now was unthinkable.
"And the fact that you are so understaffed? There should be another cook and an additional assistant to help care for the foals at the very least." Her voice had yet to change.
Sweat began to drip down Daisy's back.
"Oh Faust preserve my soul! I didn't know!"
She had no answer, and was too terrified to speak. This was supposed to be a simple request. Now she had realized the mire she had fallen into only too late. Princess Celestia's stare lasted for a few more seconds, magenta eyes glittering. Then that gaze swung toward the noble box.
"Mr. White." She might as well have shouted despite the quiet tone it was spoken in. Plants could be heard growing in that silence. Daisy had managed to turn around despite her fear to see the middle aged white stallion in the latest nobileeze fashion looking for all the world like he was trying to sneak away. The Princess either affected not to notice, or just didn't care. She caught his eyes.
"According to current records, you made over thirteen million bits last year on just the export of wine from your vineyard alone. That's thirteen million, after the cost of upkeep and taxes. Care to tell me why you cannot afford to keep one," the Princess filled that number with heavy scorn, "orphanage fully funded?"
By that time the stallion, Mr. White himself, who Daisy had been hoping wasn't going to be here, had turned around with a look like the colt caught with his hand in the cookie jar, she had managed to lose what little hope she had that her employer would not find out about this.
Funds from the crown were usually anonymous when given out.
He would no doubt cease all funding after this public embarrassment. She would lose her job, the poor foals would be cast out of their home.
"I'm so sorry…." She lamented. The poor mare had not meant to cause this much trouble. Just a little extra to help with the pinch.
"- as you can see your highness, the cost of running such a place is just within my means. If not for other troubles of a more financial drain I would be more than capable of fully funding my orphanage."
She had not realized that her benefactor was already attempting to salvage the situation, maybe she could help.
Turning around to open her mouth the words died upon her lips. Princess Celestia wore a very dark look on her face. Her normal free flowing warm pastel colored mane now stirred in an agitated manner.
Was it darker somehow?
"Do ponies often forget how old I am?" Her tone was conversational. The thunderhead that had become her visage, was not.
"I-i-i'm sorry, your highness?" Mr. White spoke up if only just. Dread leaden his voice.
"You are not the first pony, nor noble for that matter, that has used an orphanage as a charitable donation for their taxes." She flipped through a few pages in the file. "Last year, you claimed to have donated three million bits to the orphanage. But the recorded cost of operation shows maybe only three hundred thousand had been spent. Where did the other two million seven hundred thousand go, my little pony?"
Daisy's mind was in a whirl. Three million bits?! In the fifteen years she had operated the small foals-home she had never seen that much gold. She had never seen that much money all at, ever!
What small amount she charged when adoptions went through successfully had been the only extra spending she had ever received. She turned that into purchasing extra supplies for the little ones.
To find out there was more money being claimed going into her facility than was actually there stirred more than a little heat of anger in her breast. She found herself glaring at the increasingly fidgeting noble.
"I….uh...that is...umm…" A hand was raised, silencing him.
"I am very disappointed in you Mr. White. I hereby decree, as per article eight section six, is that the right code Miss Inkwell?" A quick nod from her secretary. "Good, as to the article mentioned under Asset Acquisitions, I strip you of the land and title of White's Orphanarium."
The now former owner cringed, his fellow nobles avoiding his searching eyes. Help was not coming from them.
"You will also be reimbursing the last ten years of your claims to said property in the amount of…" she skimmed over the file briefly, "no less than thirty million."
"But that'll ruin me!" He screeched. Princess Celestia merely arched an eyebrow. He jerked as if struck and added a belated, "your Highness. I apologize for my outburst, but you must understand me, I just don't have that kind...of coin...lying around…" He wilted under the monarch's glare, sounding much like Daisy had when she had tried to stop laughing earlier.
"Your vineyard is worth forty-six million bits. Sell that." He merely goggled at her. His face went from white to a blue tint, it looked like he was suffocating.
Turning from Mr. White, the monarch smiled kindly down at Daisy.
"Mrs. Evergarden. The management of the orphanage's day-to-day will remain with you. The fact that you have managed to keep the establishment going with such limited financial support is a testament to your capabilities and resourcefulness. I can think of no better pony to continue that than you. The throne will also take over funding, so that your foals-home does not suffer for the lack of bits as well. Three million a year should be a good start."
"Princess!" One of her secretaries hissed out. "Do you not think it would be prudent to let city administration manage that? The coffers can only handle so much strain as it is!"
"Relax, Lucky, by the time we actually have to start giving out the bits we will have paid off one project or another. It'll take ten or more years for Mrs. Evergarden here to go through the thirty million bits that Mr. White will be generously donating."
A shrewd look crossed the earth pony's face.
"That is true, your highness. Not to mention in ten years tax increases on the nobility will likely have increased to cover that amount by then." She gave a small smile. "I apologize for doubting you, my Princess. I should have known you had already thought this through."
"It is quite alright, my little pony." The Princess tapped her chin in thought. "In truth, I will be unable to focus on managing this site, so…perhaps putting it in the capable hands of the castle's administration. Mrs. Splurge should do nicely. What do you think?"
Daisy barely heard the ensuing conversation between monarch and scribe. The only thing that passed through her mind was the thought of thirty million bits being at her disposal. She couldn't even fathom that amount of coin.
But as her mind turned over the possibilities, repairs started to list themselves in her head, renovations to outdated bathrooms and the kitchen area. To actually be able to afford help! Her knees shook at the thought. The fantasy of having a garden in the unused courtyard in the back of the complex where she could teach the foals how to grow their own plants was quickly becoming a reality that had only been a daydream.
The Princess's gentle voice broke her from the image of her and the foals carefully managing the garden, smiles all around.
She wiped the silly grin from her face.
"Uh, yes…yes, your Highness?" She squeaked.
"I want to thank you for being brave enough to come to me with this issue today. That took a lot of courage. I am very proud of you, my little pony." Her warm smile lit up the room like the sun's rays lit up the world.
"I….in all….in all honesty, I had not known...well any of this." She stumbled through. How does one carry a conversation with somepony like Her? "I was just hoping for a small donation to get through the school year." It was true, she had only gone for a small donation, hoping to make things a little easier.
"Sometimes, the best intentions can get rewarded with the best outcome. As for your boon…" Her horn burst into life once more, and a heavy bag of bits suddenly floated before Daisy. "Take this, I will collect reimbursement for it later from Mr. White."
Clasping the cloth bag to her breast she bowed low. "Thank you, your Highness." She said, reverence in her voice.
Princess Celestia merely smiled and nodded her head to her. The audience was over, and she had gotten way more out of it then she had ever thought possible.
"Miss Write will send you details within a week on some requests I would like to be done for the little ones. While I cannot personally take your orphanage as a personal institution, I can and will assure you that help will be yours, and a more permanent solution will be found once I've managed to untangle the budget for the coming fiscal year." To the matron's surprise, that sounded very weary.
Daisy could understand that, but could only smile and bow again.
"Oh, and you will have to come up with a new name as well. You cannot call it "White's Orphanarium" anymore I would think."
Her face began to hurt from smiling so much.
Orion sighed contently. Perched inside the window frame on the fourth floor, he was fairly comfortable in his pillowed seating.
He felt as if he had settled in well enough. The foals largely left him alone, which was to the good in his opinion. No need to have them bothering him whenever it struck them to annoy the new guy.
Well there was a hiccup to that, one that seemed to ignore all the warning signs. Screaming Rush reminded him a lot of Lazy Rain. The filly that often followed him about back in Manehattan's Orphanarium. But whereas she merely followed him around, Screaming made it her mission to talk to him as much as possible.
Orion recognized what she was trying to do very quickly, and for the most part he went along with it. Oh he never let her drag him to the local park like she wanted, or anywhere really. But when she found him he would regale her with stories of his time in Stalliongrad and living on the streets. He kept to himself the icky details that may give her nightmares. But otherwise he would seclude himself once she was satisfied, or bored, and had left.
Staying aloof actually seemed to be building a legend of himself amongst the others, some stopping to stare as he passed. He wasn't so certain if that was a good thing as of yet.
Most of the time when not dragged away to some doctor's appointment, or dentist, he could usually be found in the library on the fourth floor. Save for a supply closet and two stairways, one of which was a much smaller and less used servants stairwell, the room of books galore took up the entirety of that floor.
It was the biggest library he had been in, ever. Not even back on earth, in which he avoided the school library in pursuit of fun, had he seen a place of knowledge so large for a building so small.
He had the internet for his little projects and curiosities. And porn. God he missed proper porn. Still, there hadn't been a real reason for him to visit a library of any kind.
But now, reading was all that was available to him, and to his surprise he found himself enjoying it.
He delved into everything.
History annoyed the ever loving shit out of him. It was the most censored happy-go-lucky nonsense he had ever read. Even China wouldn't censor to such a childish degree. And boy oh boy was it censored. With the bright lovey-dovey word play it was easy to tell the truth from the lie.
He laughed derisively at the story of Hearths Warming. According to the lore, ponies' negative feelings had drawn a species known as Wendigos that ravaged the northern lands in an endless winter to them. Only through the power of love, forgiveness, and coming together were the beasts eventually driven away.
Utter garbage.
This kind of drivel seemed to plague the history books in general.
However as he read, there was one name or a pair of names in this case, that kept cropping up in history. Celestia and Luna. Powerful ponies known as Alicorns, they moved the very sun and moon, keeping the balance of life in equilibrium in the world.
He would have called it nonsense too, and did, except that there was a Princess Celestia currently sitting, in rule, not too far away from where he now called home. The claim that she was immortal and over a thousand years old had to be complete horseshit. More likely it was a bloodline that carried the name across generations. But the history books were quite insistent on there being only one Celestia.
He didn't know what to make of that.
No one knew what happened to the other, Princess Luna. She seemed to have just vanished one day nearly two thousand years ago near enough. If they were long lived, maybe she was older and died.
There were other legends as well, and for whatever reason they were found in history books, almost as if they too, were based entirely in fact. Why were legends being treated as history? Was his own world's past works written similarly before the modern era?
There were also the more nasty tales chronicled as fact as well. One being a Nightmare Moon. That one had been very bad news and had threatened to cast the entirety of the world in eternal darkness. Maybe the reason for the legend's addition to history was because it was said that her very prison, that Celestia herself had locked her into, was the moon itself.
The fact that he could see craters in the form of a unicorn on that surface was not lost on him. He hadn't really noticed till he had arrived in Stalliongrad, and it had been a mild curiosity at best as to how it got like that.
Learning that there was no society on the planet capable of making the journey to the lonely satellite left a small pit of worry in his guts. One that grew as he poured more and more as he looked through the "history" of these people.
If that legend was true, even to a tiny degree, how true were the others that had a place in these peoples history? There was a lot he had dismissed as fantasy that he was unsure of now.
He put that line of thinking aside, hoping to never have to pick it up again. It did not matter, it wasn't going to affect him in his lifetime he was sure.
Math had been a surprise. A big one.
These ponies' understanding of calculus, geometry, hell even statics, was scary advanced. He wouldn't admit it to any of the little fuckers but he had been struggling for a while till the cobwebs of his past came off and he started to remember his lessons when still human, and still he learned things he had never been taught.
They even had flight mechanics, and not just for the airships that lumbered through the skies, but for the pegasi themselves.
He had even heard rumors of one, a filly if it was to be believed, had flown so fast that her passing created a rainbow and a loud booming sound. The rainbow effect was likely water vapor sliding around on the boom cone, the idea it might actually be a sonic boom left him stunned. If true, a child had broken the sound barrier.
A fuckin' kid!
How powerful were these sky rats?!
He had decided then and there never to piss one off without a plan that was for damn sure.
Their science was another story, it wasn't that developed despite their advanced knowledge of mathematics. Many things that could be described as physics were instead chalked up to a function of magic. They had the formulas to understand gravity, but they didn't recognize it as anything other than a magical force in nature.
Magic of course, encompassed all. And was likely the reason for such advanced mathematics. Their spellwork relied heavily on formulaic algorithms.
From the day he learned what the big boner in the middle of his forehead was actually for, he had done everything he could to learn as much as possible. Which wasn't much at the beginning other than picking things up and putting them down.
It had been frustrating.
When he had gotten to Equestria, and the city of Manehattan, he had learned a little more. But with that knowledge came a realization, even if they had no idea what true physics may be they still had to calculate nearly everything.
Temperature, altitude, in some cases location and weather as well, all have to be carefully mapped out within their heads.
It was weird, for lack of a better word. When constructing a spell, he could feel the skeins, like different vibrations, flowing into the different matrices needed in order to get the desired result, math dictating strength and direction of the flows.
He was immensely disappointed when he figured out that you couldn't punch someone with levitation. Oh you could throw whatever you wanted, but the spell would not operate in a weaponized manner outside of that.
At the moment he only knew the most rudimentary of spells, spells that most foals learn growing up at home, so at least he wouldn't be seen as strange.
He did have a couple of offensive spells. The fireball that he used to light the fire by the creek, and "Vi" or Force. The spell ended up projecting the color of his magic, and when used it shot a non-explosive arrow at the target, originally pushing anything he targeted back. With a little refinement, he had begun to put very narrow holes in the wall that had sat behind the hedge back in the Manehattan orphanage. He had an idea to make it more useful, but had yet to work out the kinks.
However, there was something that nagged at him, telling him it was wrong somehow. Anytime he tried to cast it at any range significantly far it would fuzz then dissolve after reaching ten or so feet. It wasn't his first inkling that there might be something wrong with him either, just a more glaring one. The spell was meant to travel twenty yards before losing efficacy.
When he slowed down the process, he found the distance portion of the matrix acting exactly as it should. Which meant the sudden failure should have been impossible. He could not figure out why it did that. But it wasn't just Force that did it. All of the spells he tried and put at distance from him started to do that.
He hoped going to this school specifically for unicorns would break him of whatever was affecting his casting. Maybe there was something he was missing and not factoring in. Or he had stunted himself in some way.
Soft pounding up the stairs alerted him, as the ears on top of his head focused in on the sound he smiled slightly. Screaming had come to bug him once more.
Oh well, he could use a break, his head was starting to hurt from his ruminations. He smiled, stretching as he wondered what inane thing she would bug him with today.
Bursting into the library at almost a dead run, the young griffon came skidding to a halt before him, breathing hard. Must have come running up all the way from the ground floor if she was that desperate for oxygen.
"Easy there, feathers. This is a library, not a gymnasium." He chuckled at the flat look he received. "What's up, buttercup?"
"Mrs. Evergarden is back from Day Court!" Her voice was usually rather pleasant, a musical bird-like quality that seemed to be a staple of her species if what he had picked up from others he had overheard could be considered normal. Today, it sounded much too akin to a bird squawk, kind of…screechy and he wished it would stop immediately.
"Sounds exciting. I'm sure it's a huge deal that you just had to run up four flights of stairs just to tell me." He said dryly.
She could have flown, but none of the windows were open and griffons weren't made for hovering, built heavy and nearly silent flying. A pegasus could, in fact, hover. It was kinda cool to watch.
"She wants us all downstairs. She said she had an important announcement, she looked really happy for some reason." She had not picked up on his snark.
That was a change, he had caught Mrs. Evergarden leaving when he was sneaking a cup of coffee from the kitchen. She had looked pensive, and more than a little nervous. Whatever had been bothering the matron must have been resolved.
"Well it must be something good. Let me put these away." His horn lit up and he began to put books three away at a time. He was rather proud of himself. A year ago he struggled to put two away at the same time.
Screaming watched enviously.
"Wish I could do that." He chuckled.
"And I wish I could fly."
That got her to blink in confusion at him. "Really?"
"Are you kidding? To be able to get to anywhere you want to be with just the beat of wings would be friggin' amazing." He smiled. He was trying to make her feel better about her own abilities, but he really would like to fly unaided one day. Maybe the first personal aircraft? He'd have to write that one down.
Putting the last book away he got up and wobbled. Maybe he wasn't quite ready for three books at a time just yet.
Shaking his head a bit to get his balance back, he gestured to the door. "Come on, let's go see if they finally recognized me as Pope."
He laughed at the confused look she gave him.
In the large receiving room on the ground floor, everyone was gathered. For such a small group they certainly made enough noise. Sounded like a circus.
At the door he and Screaming separated, mostly because he was wasn't one for small talk. He was already leaning against a wall not saying much of anything. She settled in with her friend, Storming Wing.
There was a bad influence if he had ever seen it. The only other person in this place not as put off by his more carnivorous habits. She had the habit of getting the griffon into trouble that could be easily avoided. Mostly just ill thought out pranks.
The blue maned filly gave him a mischievous grin.
"Great, she has something planned for me."
But before he could contemplate his retaliation, Mrs. Evergarden rushed into the room. Screaming was right, she was in an excitable mood. She practically vibrated with excess energy across the floor, her normal mane bun was an absolute mess.
"Everypony here?" He wanted to chime in that not everyone was a pony, but he was sure it would fall on deaf ears. "Good! Good." She walked in front of the large bay windows facing out at Lancet Street, a grin threatening to rip her face apart. "I have some very exciting news to share, my little ponies! As some of you know, I went to Day Court today. What you might not know is that I went to get more bits for the orphanage."
"Well that explains her original nervousness ." He thought.
"During that session, it was discovered that some things were wrong with our original funding. Yes, Dew?"
A little all green filly had stuck her hand into the air in that excitable ramrod straight way kids did when they really wanted to know something.
"What does funding mean?" Her voice squeaked out.
"Oh for the love of God!" She was five, and he understood that not everyone had the same education, but he barely restrained himself from yelling at the poor girl. She was attending a private school after all, she should have learned something by now.
"It means bits for our home little one." Mrs. Evergarden had the patience of a saint. She continued on.
"Because of that revelation Mr. White, our patron has given up his rights over us and the orphanage."
Orion could read between the lines. A grin cracked his lips. Ol' Whitey got busted, of what he could guess. Normally that would be a bad thing, but judging by her disposition, something really good had come out of it.
"However, we did pick up an even better sponsor than before." She bit her lip, and in that moment she looked like one of the kids she cared for. "Princess Celestia has become this orphanage's patron!"
She squealed, the kids squealed. All God's children squealed. He thought he might be deaf. Hell, even Golden Trot, Douche Canoe himself, was squealing like a stuck pig.
Orion on the other hand didn't know how to feel about it. There was certainly more than a little anxiety to be certain. Being that close to power was not something you took lightly, even if all it was was only funding. And considering his last run in with real authority, he wasn't enthusiastic about a repeat of that at all. He didn't count those folks back in Stalliongrad, they had been rescuers, terrible ones, but rescuers nonetheless.
After a minute of the impromptu swine concert, Mrs. Evergarden had managed to get the group under control.
"Now, that means some very big changes will be coming. New ponies to help me will start working here, and we will be getting some much needed repairs done on the building itself. Also, it was advised to me by Princess Celestia herself that we come up with a new name for our home." She smiled, delight in her eyes.
With Mr. White no longer in the picture, that made a lot of sense. Already a clamor of voices spoke up shouting ideas with Celestia's name being prominent in most.
Orion thought for a moment before raising his hand. He didn't want to, but he thought it prudent to keep the monarch's name off the building as much as possible.
Once more the Directress got the mob of voices to quiet down, and noticed him.
"Yes, Orion?"
Dropping his hand he cleared his throat, "If I could suggest, how about "Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals"."
The mare thought for a moment. Surprisingly none of the others had voiced opposition to it yet. Though Golden was looking like he wanted to.
"Why, my name specifically?" She finally asked.
"Crap, do I have to point it out?"
"Well, as far as I know, you've been managing this orphanage for years under Mr. White's employ. You have managed to keep this place running under some of the worst working conditions I know. Even Manehattan's orphanage had more than just Miss Sapphire running the place."
Which was true. There were two cooks and even a janitor that helped maintain the place though he rarely saw them.
He continued.
"Besides, I'm quite certain the Princess has her name attached to enough institutions in this city," which was also true, even in Manehattan there were at least three coffee houses with her name alone. "So why not name the place after someone who has worked so hard to keep it together."
What he did not mention was that if Celestia's name was not attached to the place, there would be less attention from elements in society that was better to be ignored by. Most people had short memories and would likely forget that she had basically confiscated the place from a noble. Despite the guess he was certain that he was right, and the noble would not forget, but odds were he would be too scared to move against royalty in any way.
"That's actually a good idea!" Pipped up Screaming. Not really a surprise considering how hard she was working at becoming his friend. She would likely back him up if he declared the sun should be known as Piss Ball. Well, maybe not that.
Soon there were others that assented to the idea. Mostly the older foals, the younger ones only stared off into space. One was digging for gold. Yuck.
"Okay, well let's put it to a vote, all in favor of Orion's suggestion raise your hand."
Golden Trot and Storming Wing were the only ones not to raise their hands. The former likely did so out of his distaste for him, and the latter was just as likely to just be difficult for the sake of it.
Mrs. Evergarden smiled sheepishly, a blush forming on her face and in her ears from the way they twitched nervously.
"Well, I-I-I suppose we have a new name. Thank you, Orion." He kept his face smooth, but inside he wanted to sag in relief. The kids were all yammering excitedly about how the new sign would look. Screaming was beaming and frowning at Storming in turns.
Douche supreme just looked constipated.
A series of rapid knocks silenced the room. With a gesture of her hand and a quick word to remain where they were, Mrs. Evergarden went to see who it was.
From where he sat, he could just see her looking through the peephole and giving a small jump before quickly opening the door. Two guards stepped through the door.
These did not look like the typical city guard he had seen before, those were clad in regular steel and white cloth and unpainted.
These, both mares, bore lacquered white armor in gold and purple trim. The breastplates had the symbol of the Equestrian Royalty etched into them. These were Royal Guards.
"Oh, Jesus Christ." He really hoped the Princess hadn't decided to survey her new acquisition personally.
In stepped a brown, almost black earth pony mare in a gray business suit. A yellow cloth at her throat.
"I am here on Princess Celestia's behalf. She would have liked to have come herself, but she is hosting a delegation from Prance and could not make the time."
"Oh thank you God! Thank you, thank you!" He was not religious in the slightest, that had been his grandparents schtick, but he was thinking he might end up finding faith if this turmoil in his life continued.
"I-I hadn't thought she would come here!" Mrs. Evergarden squeaked.
"Her Highness did imply you would be getting instructions in about a week, but after some deliberation with her staff she thought it best to start as soon as possible with the next few weeks being too busy for her."
"Oh, I see. Well we, the foals really, have already suggested and voted on a new name for the orphanage." The Directress replied.
"Truly?" Shuffling around in her satchel, the mare produced an ink bottle and quill. A scroll appeared in one of the guards hands. "If you would be so kind as to give me the name, this will go far in getting the appropriate paperwork together that much sooner."
"Oh, um "Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals"." They pair had started to drift toward the receiving room. Orion's ears stayed locked onto them.
"So much for the slow bureaucracy of government."
He was rather surprised by how swiftly the Princess had moved once she had taken a course of action.
"That's a wonderful name, her Highness will be happy to hear that." Her voice dropped an octave, and he only barely heard; "Between you and I, Princess Celestia has grown tired of ponies asking for her name on every establishment. She will be happy to learn of this."
"I suppose Orion was likely thinking the same thing!" Mrs. Evergarden replied happily.
"No you idiot, don't say my name!!" The less known about him the better. And anyone in power knowing who he was is very bad news.
"Orion? Who is that?" The mare inquired.
"Orion Falls, he's the newest addition to the orphanage, as he arrived only just this month. He made the name suggestion. Oh he is right over there."
She pointed dead at him. Right fucking at him. He could only imagine what his face looked like as he tried to pretend he wasn't paying attention to anything.
"Why did I even open my mouth? What the fuck is wrong with me?! I'm not paying attention, I know nothing, just another brat amongst many." His hopes to be ignored were dashed. The mare had come right up to him. "God damnit."
She leaned down before him, adopting a look that most adults did when wanting to praise a child.
"Well hello there little one!" She spoke cheerfully. "My name is Lucky Write! That was a very good name you came up with!" She reached into a pocket and pulled a wrapped piece of candy out. Presenting it to him she asked sweetly, "Would you like one?"
He recoiled, to surprised by the offer and unable to stop the look of disgust on his face, or the words that he oh so wished he had not said.
"Fuck no! Y'all make your candy way too sweet! That shit hurts my teeth!" He clamped his hand over his mouth, eyes bulging.
For the mare, Lucky's part, she too recoiled. But in shock and maybe a little disgust.
"Orion!" Evergarden screeched.
He spent the rest of the day in his room. Couldn't blame no one but himself for this one.
"Why in the fuck did I say that?!" It had been a thought that had repeated constantly in his head.
It was like someone else had spoken through him and he was just along for the ride. But it had been his thoughts.
A knock pulled his attention to the door of his room. Mrs. Evergarden stately walked in, a hard flushed look to her features.
"I can't believe you said that!" She snapped.
"I can't believe I said it either." He responded morosely. He felt seven kinds of moron. "That is exactly how you pull attention to yourself. Idiot."
"I should have just taken the candy and handed it to another kid later when she left. It was fucking stupid. I'm sorry."
Something grabbed his ear and he stood on tippy hooves as Mrs. Evergarden bodily dragged him from his bedroom to the bathroom down the hall.
"Is she really thinking that she will…" A bar of soap lifted from the bathroom counter in her magic. "Oh no you don't!"
Before the bar reached him he snatched it out of the air and stuck it in his own mouth, crunched down, chewed and then spit all over the floor.
Her hand leapt from his ear in surprise. Eyes very wide.
"You want me to stop swearing, you ask. Miss S already tried this. I will not put up with this shit from anyone else. Do we understand each other?" He spoke hotly. So much for keeping his temper in check. He may look like a kid to her, and if not for where he came from he might have said he wasn't. But as he was essentially an alien he wasn't about to put his ass on the line like that.
But he was not about to put up with this treatment. He never understood why anyone thought they would get results this way.
Sure maybe a weak willed kid would cave easily enough, but he had seen some react even worse then he had now.
Her mouth worked, but no sound came from her lips. Her eyes fairly bulged now.
"Look, I'll make you….not a promise because the future is uncertain, and I won't make myself a liar like that. But a commitment to try at the very least."
He held up a finger.
"First and foremost, I will not look for or start a fight. I'm not looking to have the spotlight on me more than I have to. However, that does not mean I'm gonna be some bitch and let anyone that wants to beat on me, do so. So whoever throws the first punch is going to get broken I can promise you that.”
His second finger flipped up. She had stopped gaping at him.
"Second, I will not go out of my way to verbally attack anyone. Even if they deserve it. I cannot promise I won't curse and swear in frustration, but I will do my best to keep it here and in private."
His third and final finger rose.
"I will do my best not to besmirch," he grinned at that, "the name of this orphanage, or you, in any way. I will likely not be a model citizen if you couldn't tell that already, but I will be respectful and maintain some semblance of decorum and civility." This was good, he was setting rules for himself. He needed to, and he needed someone else to hold it over him. Otherwise he would eventually get in real trouble.
He lowered his hand and waited.
She was no longer glaring, instead a thoughtful look adorned her face.
"She told me…that you couldn't be treated like the other foals. I keep being reminded how true that is." She frowned. "But that isn't good enough. You have-"
"That is all you're gonna get." He said firmly. "Anyone who makes a promise is an idiot. The future is not written in stone, and there may come a time where I have to break one of those. I can say with as much certainty as I can have, I will not break them lightly."
They looked at each other for a long time. Finally Mrs. Evergarden's shoulders slumped.
"I'm really not going to get you to budge on this am I?" He shook his head, smiling to take the sting away from it.
He was starting to see why many kids fought back when being punished. At least those back on earth. These ponies just took whatever nonsense was foisted upon them whether they wanted to or not. Very rarely did one fight back or even complain.
"Fine." She sighed heavily. "But please, stick to those as best you can. Please?"
His smile morphed into an impish grin. "Of course, it's not like I'm a ticking time-bomb after all."
Making his way around her he got just past the door when he heard her call out; "What, by Faust's name, is a "time bomb"?"
His laughter was her only answer.
He looked himself over in the tall standing mirror that had been placed in his room. His mirror.
He had bought it with a stipend that everyone in the orphanage was now receiving. A new development with their new sponsor.
Apparently when Miss Write had arrived, and after he had embarrassed the whole of the orphanage quite thoroughly, she had announced to Mrs. Evergarden that Princess Celestia had wanted the foals to have an allowance.
Two hundred bits for each foal. Every single month! He had seen families in Stalliongrad make due with less.
He wasn't really all that shocked, at least not by the allowance itself. It was the amount that was something else entirely.
In truth he shouldn't have access to his, he was below the age of ten which was the cut off for kids being able to buy what they want. According to the rules that had been laid out by Miss Write.
But after a heart to heart with Mrs. Evergarden, they had worked out that he would make requests, and she would decide whether it was something he needed, or could have.
The mirror was one such purchase she had approved.
On his desk behind him were extra notebooks, quills, and ink bottles. All purchased with the bits he had been allowed.
He also now had a gym membership.
He had spotted the gymnasium when he was being dragged about by Miss Sapphire the day after they had arrived. Right before she went to a tea and crumpets cafe, taking him with her of course. He got to watch her drool over a stallion that worked there for the better part of an hour before they left.
But the gym, Iron Wills Gymnasium, had reminded him of his weak and feeble unicorn body, and also, the body he had when he was still a man. Skinny with a growing beer gut.
Talking Mrs. Evergarden around to that had been a chore. But eventually he had given her the idea that if he was sweating his ass off in there, he wouldn't be causing trouble here. She had caved to that.
The place wasn't even charging that much.
That still left him with some hundred odd bits, but he didn't really need anything else. Maybe he would save it up and then throw it into some type of investment when he was old enough. He could play with that idea later. Make more money on government cash. Sounded like a swell idea to him. Besides, he had no clue how much it would cost him to patent any of his ideas.
He frowned.
Orion had stripped to his underwear to look himself over. Scrawny didn't cover it. He looked like a twig with legs.
He hadn't really looked at himself more than to brush his mane out of his eyes, so in a lot of ways, he was seeing himself for the very first time.
He looked goofy as hell, the head was almost too big for the body. Something would have to be done about it. He was going to need more protein, or he was destined to look like a bobble-head. Maybe he could talk her into letting some of his bits go into more than just fish for himself. Maybe some plants that had protein heavy seeds. He'd have to do research on it.
Still, he didn't like his look at all.
Sighing to himself, he dressed again, in the bedclothes he had pulled off before. He would just have to be patient. He would not fall into the old habits of immediate satisfaction. It served him nothing to do so now and was one of the reasons that led to his incarceration to begin with.
Once dressed, he walked over to where his coat pegs were and checked the satchel he had sitting there ready for tomorrow.
Tomorrow was the very first day of school. New school. He was nervous as hell.
Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns was said to be one of the best, if not the top, schools of the country. They catered to all ages, from Pre-K to college itself. He himself would be attending their primary classes.
His nervousness came from the fact that he had no idea what to expect, and was not sure if he would stack up to kids that had been using magic since the day they were born.
He'd likely get kicked for not knowing that much despite his efforts, but that didn't really bother him. It was the idea that he might lose out on improving. The spells that should work, weren't. His mind not being able to not factor in certain concepts made it difficult for those spells to even form, much less function like they should.
That and the fact that back in Manehattan, there were no classes specifically for magic. How far behind was he? How much work would it take to catch up?.
Ink, quills, notebooks. Everything seemed to be there. As it was the last six times he had checked this evening.
"Stop it. It's just school, and if the school in Manehattan was any indication, you'll likely be ahead of the curve." But was he going to be? It was a subject he didn't know was possible to learn before arriving.
Drifting to the bed he laid down, eyes wandering, they found themselves on the uniform he would be wearing tomorrow. He hated sweater vests.
Black slacks, purple vest and a white dress undershirt would become his life, Monday to Friday. He was a true fucking nerd now.
"God damnit." Flicking the light off with a small application of his magic he rolled over. Tomorrow was sure to be a long ass day.
He missed being able to sleep naked.
The rock trembled violently in a black and gold magic field. He really wanted to nail that wagon driver right in the dome.
"Bitch almost fuckin' hit me!"
He had been doing fairly well getting from the orphanage to school. He had been lucky his residence was so close to a tram station.
Despite the press of people he managed to find a comfortable place to sit, wedged between a wall and an overweight unicorn mare who kept giving him pudgy winks.
"Lady. I'm eight."
At his stop, which was halfway around the city and closer than he liked to the castle, he got off quickly, barely avoiding being trampled.
As he got to the street below the station, he got his first look at his new school.
He was not rich enough to be attending a school like this.
It looked like someone had modernized Roman architecture. It damn near looked like the Whitehouse.
Massive fluted columns supported a slightly larger flat roof that just overhung the building's edges. Windows stood in regular intervals between the pillars, he could see individual floors through them, and everything was gilded in gold. A golden dome capped with a weather vane looking statue dominated the top.
White. Brick, everything. All white. It was blinding in the morning sun. He shielded his eyes from the glare and gave back one of his own.
It was then as he tried to cross the street that he had almost gotten run over. The driver, a mare, laughing.
He dropped the stone with angry mutterings. He had promised to behave. And Mrs. Evergarden would hold him to it.
Looking both ways, and trying to shield his eyes from the sun, he darted across the street and through the large iron wrought gates.
Breathing heavily, and thanking whatever deity was listening for his gym membership, he looked around.
"Now there is supposed to be a Mr. Shower to greet me. Sure hope for his sake his first name isn't Golden. That would be...very unfortunate."
Part of his morning had gone to Mrs. Evergarden making sure he had everything. She was even more anal than he had been the night before.
"Your lunch is packed?" Nod. "Do you have your school supplies?" Another, slower nod with a touch of exasperation. "Bits for your tram fare?"
He had his lunch, his money, his school supplies, and underwear sitting properly. Everything.
"Yes mooommm I have everything I need." That earned him a swat on the head and a chuckle.
"Everypony knows where they are going by now. But you're new and I don't want you to forget anything." She smiled.
"Wait! Everypony knows? What about Screaming! She must be so lost. Oh woe is she for she is lost and has no idea where to go!" Another swat.
"She knows too. Honestly, I don't know why you have such a problem with using proper vernacular. They have been the method of including everypony for thousands of years."
"And they are exclusive as hell. Whoever had made them up should have their head dunked in salt. Speciest bastard!"
The sneeze had taken her completely by surprise.
The stallion before her, Marbled Stone, blinked as a thin spray of mucus had appeared on his muzzle.
"Oh my goodness! Ambassador, I am so, so sorry!" Summoning a handkerchief she levitated the cloth to him. Face flushed with embarrassment.
The Saddle Arabian representative merely chuckled as he took the proffered fabric and began dabbing at his face. She waved for somepony to bring something more substantial for cleaning.
"Perhaps you've caught a cold, your Highness." He mused.
"Oh this story will spread. Me, sneezing on a delegate! Where did that even come from?!"
"Ambassador Stone, I haven't had a cold in over eight hundred years, and that had been under extraordinary circumstances." She sniffed and rubbed her nose with another handkerchief.
Where had that sneeze come from?
In front of a broad short staircase stood a group of young ponies and one loan adult. A massive water fountain three or four yards across stood between him and the group. Water spewed from horse people with fish tails in an elegant jet.
"That must be them."
To the right of the lone adult stood five kids.
Kids, no they were foals that nomenclature was one he needed to accept, that looked like they belonged there. Noses slightly up, annoyed looks on their faces as if they would rather not be there and had been forced to attend.
The other group, toward the stallion's left, was still looking around in awe and wonder. He wondered if he had held the same look a moment ago.
One, the only colt in either group, was picking his nose. He was really getting in there too.
Ew.
"Please let "gold miner" not be my lab partner for any class! Oh God, he ate it! Gross!" He gagged.
Sure enough the disgusting little troll had pulled his finger back with a huge booger at the end, and stuck it right in his mouth. A delighted look upon his face.
Orion shuddered and focused on the adult in desperation.
As he came closer he had to do a double take. The stallion. A tall skinny pony, was the ugliest horse person he had ever seen.
Nothing was going right for this guy. His muzzle was long, and the nose seemed to curve upwards as if he had gotten the mother of all uppercuts. His lips didn't quite cover his teeth.
His eyes seemed to be focused on him in disdain, but one was attempting to look in another direction, as if bored.
The mane made him think someone had tried to get creative with a weed wacker. At least it was combed.
"Name!" The abrupt noise that could barely be described as a voice broke him from his examination of the stallion. Sounded like he was gargling a mouth full of cock.
"Oh um, Orion Falls." He stood there awkwardly. Not knowing what else to say.
"Hmm," the pony looked into a ledger he hadn't noticed he was holding before, "ah yes, here you are. You were almost late Mr. Falls. I'd advise you to leave earlier if you're going to be this slow in getting to class."
"With a face like that you wanna be an asshole? I'm fifteen minutes early you fuckhead!" He kept his thoughts to himself. He had said he would try to be respectful and behave. He repeated the mantra as he joined the newbies.
Glancing over to the rest of what we're obviously also new arrivals, he spoke up. "Now that we are all here. I am Mr. Shower. I am the introductory councilor for the day but usually you will find me in the chemistry department. You five will be guided to your classes by the best students of last year's academics."
His gaze swept back and forth over them, a hard gaze.
"You will give them respect, and your undivided attention. They have your schedules, and will be with you for the next three to five days to make sure you understand where you are supposed to go. Is that clear?"
Everyone there nodded, except for Orion. He did not like this stallion. He would no longer get the honorific of Mr. in his name, at least in his head.
"Excellent."
He acted like someone who had watched the Harry Potter movies then told their friend about them. Then that friend tried to reenact scenes with Snape in them. Poorly.
"Bad Snape is bad."
"Lady Sparkle, if you and the others would kindly escort your charges according to schedule so we can all get about our day?"
A purple filly with a navy blue mane and two strips of pink and purple, stepped forward from the other group.
"Of course, Mr. Shower." She sounded as bored and annoyed as their councilor. At least her mouth didn't sound like she had a dick shoved into it.
"Then I leave you to it." He glanced back at the newbies. "Remember. Respect."
With that the stallion stormed off in an awkward hobble. Orion was beginning to strongly suspect inbreeding.
Twilight's group broke up to stand next to their assigned escorts.
The aforementioned filly stood next to him specifically. "Ah, crap."
"Today is a busy day, so do not dottle. We have a lot of ground to cover and I don't want to be kept waiting while you goggle and gawk at every new thing you see." Oh this was great. This was wonderful. Little Miss Doesn't-want-to-be-here already has a stick jammed so far up her ass she has become a sign for pain in the ass parking.
But he didn't say anything, the mantra again repeated in his skull. Plus, as satisfying as it would be to smack a bitch, he'd end up feeling bad about hitting a girl.
He tailed behind her, not really wanting to stay in her line of sight as he did exactly what she had said not to. Stared at everything.
What he hadn't noticed of the building before were thick vines crawling up the right side, carefully pruned to not block the windows. They had some amazing blue and purple flowers blooming off of them. A pair of gardener unicorns in matching overalls and shirts of white and purple were picking up the plant refuse with their magic.
Glancing around he noticed a lot of unicorns primarily using their magic. Even carrying their school supplies seemed to warrant the practice.
He was suddenly, and quite roughly, shoved forward. Turning around he saw no one.
"That's fuckin' weird…"
Facing back toward the school he noticed his warden looking at him, a glare painted on her face and her horn a light in a purple glow.
"Do. Not. Dottle." She hissed at him.
"Jesus girl, calm down! It's my first time here! Permit a man to stare a little. Damn." He was really thinking hard about hitting her with every loose stone in his vicinity.
It was clear she didn't want to be here, likely forced into the role but she could be less of a pain in the ass about it.
A curious, if rather sharp still, look came over her face.
"Jesus? Man? What is that? And don't swear! That is not allowed here." She finished that last with a bite.
"Holy shit! This bitch latches onto anything!"
"Just...slang that I picked up back in Stalliongrad." He quickly, and almost smoothly responded.
She fixed him with her now trademark stare. "I've read about Stalliongrad. Nothing I have read indicates the vernacular of the culture including those words." It was time for his own stare. Did she really think you could learn everything from a book? They had gotten to the doors.
"Have you been there?" She had the decency to blush, ears turning pink.
"N-no. But what does that have to do with it?" He smiled at her.
"Lesson one, oh Purple Warden. You're never going to learn everything by reading a book. Oh you can get a good idea of the culture and history, but if you don't immerse yourself into the place itself, you'll never know for sure if what you read is fact."
"How would you know?" Pink gone from her ears, she was back to smug.
"Because I lived there, ya dingus. Now come on, we are going to be late for class." He pushed past her leaving the gaping filly to catch up.
"Stupid bitch."
In truth he was kinda flabbergasted. He knew the ponies of this city were going to be stuck up assholes, but he had hoped to find the diamonds in the rough at the very least.
So far Mrs. Evergarden, and Screaming, were the only bright spots in the entire town.
What he really wanted to do was turn around, jab a finger in her throat and teach her manners. But he had to keep reminding himself that she was just a kid. They are only as polite as their parents taught them.
In her case, it seemed either not enough, or she had been having one really bad day.
Twilight started after the strange black colt in consternation. She had been rude. In the haze of her anger she had not seen anything but inconveniences. She was already having a bad day, starting with spilling an ink bottle all over her notes. When she had attempted to lift new ink from old, the spell couldn't differentiate between written and spilled and ended up pulling most but the beginning of the page up.
All those notes were wasted. It was a coincidence that her writing was so quick that she had barely managed to rewrite them out.
Once she arrived at school she had fixated it in her mind that she would be able to settle into class, and she would have a chance to redo those notes better than her hastily scrawled attempt.
Unfortunately, Principal Good Order had found her. She had been volunteered to help with School Introductions and Familiarization. A week long assignment that allowed a new student to get familiarized with the school grounds and how classes schedules functioned.
Usually the top academic students were chosen for this task. She was one of those. The very top.
"Where did he go!?" In her musings he had slipped away into the foals that surrounded them.
Channeling her magic as a wedge she pushed into the press and hoped she could catch him. He was certain to get lost in the large academy.
The bell had rung, and the halls were empty. Orion Falls was nowhere to be found.
She had failed.
In her very first official assignment from anypony, she had failed. She bit her lip hard, eyes screwed shut.
"What will the Princess say?!" In her mind she could see the Royal Court room, cast in red. Princess Celestia sat on her throne above her.
"Twilight, I am very disappointed in you. You cannot even handle one simple assignment. I don't know what I was thinking, taking you as my student."
Rising from her seat, wings cast wide. Her Teacher looked upon her, a stern face of judgment.
"I'm sorry, my little pony, but I'm afraid that you are not the student I am looking for."
"No no no no nononono-" she whispered fiercely to herself. She stood in the lone hallway, hands gripping her head.
A hand touched her elbow and she gave a jerk. Whirling around, she discovered a janitor had come up to her. Concern etched on her blue face.
"Are you okay, Lady Sparkle?"
Lady Sparkle. She had yet to get used to that. Since being chosen by the Princess as her personal student, she had been getting the noble treatment from everypony.
Her family had been well to do before her new position. But now there was a difference from anypony she crossed paths with. Even students.
All save one student, and he was missing.
"I am well." She said absently. She wasn't really. But she would not admit her failure to just anypony. She sighed, she would have to tell Mrs. Greenfield that her new student had given her the slip. "Thank you for your concern, but I must be going."
With polite murmurs of well wishes, the janitor turned away, and she made her way through the warren of halls.
Her destination was reached all too soon. She had this class last year, Equish class, and had fond memories of the teacher here. Memories that would now be tainted when she admitted to losing Orion.
Stepping in she was greeted with the familiar sight of the multi-leveled stair seating, with the desks and chairs built-in. And in the middle, toward the left hand side, sat Orion Falls with his eyes focused on a book before him.
She gaped incredulously at him. How had he gotten here without her?!
"Lady Sparkle! It's a pleasure to see you here again. But unless I am very much mistaken, you passed my class last year, young filly. Top of it too. What brings you here?"
Turning, and trying vainly to hide her shock, she addressed the slightly overweight mare. "I-I-I...I am O-Orion's…..I got distracted…." Which was true enough, she had gotten distracted that was for certain.
He was watching her now. A small cocky grin on his face. Her ears and face could only heat in embarrassment as she tried to come up for a reason for her to be there. She looked away from him back to Mrs. Greenfield, and she opened her mouth to stumble an answer.
"She's my escort." Her eyes locked back onto him. He waved his hand idly in the air. "Got me to the door and said something about needing the bathroom. I told her to go, I will just be in here."
"Oh, the SIF?" Twilight could only nod. "Ah, well I suppose that does make sense. She is this school's top student after all. You're very lucky to have her as a guide, Mr. Falls. Lady Sparkle? If you would?" Her orange furred hand gestures toward the seating.
She practically ran to take a seat next to the colt who had surprisingly rescued her from further embarrassment. She looked at him after she had settled, but his eyes were focused on the golden maned mare toward the front of the room. But there was still that smile on his face, if smaller.
"Well then, now that we are all here. I suppose introductions are in order. Many of you know who I am already, but for those new such as you Mr. Falls, I am Mrs. Golden Greenfield. I will be your Equish instructor for this year. In this class I hope to better your understanding of our language and its nuances. To say what, when, and how."
She had begun to write, in her familiar hand, her name and examples of what everypony would be learning.
"But first, I'd like everypony to introduce themselves. It would be good to know your classmates after all, since you will be spending many years together learning."
Turning around she pointed to a yellow filly in the front row. Twilight had already begun tuning out Mrs. Greenfield before she had even gotten to that point. Her eyes were covertly watching Orion.
He had gone back to the book. Muttering to himself.
She hadn't really looked at the pony before, but she realized he was tall. Taller than her, with longer than normal ears and a fiery red mane that this close also showed hints of brown. It was like looking at embers.
His black fur was brushed, if with a careless hand. Likely had woken up late, nopony wanted knots in their fur.
He had a pretty horn. Though the pattern seemed unusual. The grooves seemed to swirl in on themselves, almost twisting the eye. But she was sure if she ran her finger along it they would meet up properly.
She blushed lightly at the thought. Touching another pony's horn was an intimate gesture.
It was his eyes that gave her pause though. Gray like a foggy sky, they seemed so intense. Whenever he looked at something it held a forcefulness that could crack stone. It was little more than a glare.
Like everypony else he was wearing the school uniform. A standard that had been put into place by Principal Forgone, twenty years ago. It had been a way for the students and teachers to feel as one.
Though teachers wore a stole with a color that matched their profession of academics. In Mrs. Greenfield's case it was blue for language and literature.
His name being called pulled both of them from their distractions.
"Uh yeah?"
"An introduction is in order, Mr. Falls." She reminded him, a touch of irritation into her voice. She did not like being delayed no matter how kind she was.
"Oh shit, yeah. Sorry."
More than one voice gasped as he stood.
"What?"
A filly, Fancy Breeze, shot up to her hooves and pointed at him with an accusatory finger.
"You swore!"
He blinked at her, then laughed. "Well how about that. I suppose I fuckin' did at that. Amazing."
Bulging eyes likely mirrored her own. He had done it again, and spoke like a griffon on top of it!
"Mr. Falls!" Mrs Greenfield's voice cracked. "That language will not be tolerated."
He paused, grin falling from his face.
"Language is not only just the way we as a people communicate thoughts and ideas. It is an art in the same way music conveys emotion, it allows one to bare their soul for others to truly understand them."
He stood up.
"Society may claim certain words as taboo, but that does not make them right. For a people to limit what others may say, makes them look controlling. That is the path of Tyrants."
Where had that come from? She had never read that before.
"The limits of my language are the limits of my world. I will not be chained so." He stood defiant, gazing down at the class and instructor all.
Mrs. Greenfield blinked, a small smile on her face. "Lady Sparkle, you have some competition. If a bit rough. You are very much correct, though I have never heard those words spoken in that way before." The smile broadened. "I remember you now, or at least what my herd sister has said of you. Don't think you can use flowery words with me to try and skirt the rules."
He mouthed the words "herd sister" before blinking. "Oooohhh I get it. Sorry, I'm still getting used to the concept of herds and all that." He chuckled.
"How does he not know of herds?" This colt was getting stranger and stranger by the minute.
"Alright listen, I will give you, not a promise but something, like I gave Mrs. Evergarden. I will try my best not to cuss as much as possible. It will likely slip out, sorry in advance. But I will try, and don't say that's not good enough because it'll just have to be." He went to sit down before stopping. "Oh and don't do any silly punishments like making me write a thousand times; "I will not swear in class", or some nonsense like that. I won't do it. And we will both sit there till one of us falls apart." He grinned, "And I am way younger than you."
"I could just send you to the principal's office."
"You very well could," he nodded thoughtfully, "and get the exact same result. The way I figure it, you'll let me learn, or kick me out." He grimaced. "Which will suck all kinds of butt, see I can self censor, but that will only be a road bump for me."
"I see." She suddenly laughed, "Daisy was right. You do have an answer for everything. But she also said you were very keen on keeping your word once you made it." She smiled. "You, young stallion, are a challenge. We shall play this by ear."
He had challenged, and won. Well not a complete victory, but still. How?!
Sitting back down he just nodded. Not quite a smile on his face, but he had an air about him that said he was most certainly pleased with himself.
"Mr. Falls?" Maybe Mrs. Greenfield had come to her senses and would punish him for attempting to circumvent the rules.
"Yeah?" His mouth set.
"Introductions?" She smiled, mirth making her eyes twinkle.
And with that Twilight's hopes for order to return had been dashed. She glowered at the colt as he stood once more.
"Ah, shhhh…...shrooms. Sorry, forgot." He scooted around the irate purple filly and walked down to the front of the class like everypony else did before him.
"Okay, so. My name is Orion Falls. I recently arrived from Manehattan about two weeks ago, give or take a couple of days. But I'm originally from Stalliongrad." His voice dropped an octave and he sounded like he had a cold. "In Soviet Marussia, weather change you!" He chuckled to himself.
Everypony just gave him odd looks.
Still chuckling to himself, "Okay that might not have been as funny as it was in my head. As for me, I am an orphan. That's right, I'm a filthy parentless urchin. Fear me and my dirty nature of having no-" Mrs. Greenfield bopped him on the head with a rolled up paper. The class laughed and she shook her head at him with a smile.
How was he staying in their good graces? How was he breaking the rules and getting away with it? Why?!
"Wait, he's an orphan?"
"Jesus, tough crowd. But yes, I am actually an orphan. I lived a year on the streets of Stalliongrad avoiding the worst things I won't tell you about. I like to read, and I just got a gym membership so I will likely either love and or hate working out. That's it."
He bounded up the stairs and slid around Twilight to get back into his seat. A grimace on his face.
"He's an orphan. And he was on his own for so long..." She felt terrible, not only because of his life up to now, but also the way she had treated him. The fact that he was a colt only compounded the feeling.
Still, he shouldn't be allowed to get away with this degenerate behavior.
He looked over to her.
"That was fun, let's do that never again."
He was surely in hell.
Standing up in class, just to introduce himself, brought back awkward years of growing up and making an ass of himself on a daily basis.
He was always the loner in class by choice, but not because he was trying to be edgy. He just didn't know how to speak to others and had made few friends, it was only as he grew up and found the miracles of alcohol that he finally broke the issues that kept him bottled up.
He wasn't Mister Popular. But he wasn't the fun sucking vampire of the party either.
And he was most certainly not thinking of the fact in his very first hour, of the very first class, that he almost got himself suspended. What happened to keeping his word?
It had taken everything in him to keep his voice and face smooth as he laid out his case.
He had realized early on that he was likely to screw up when speaking. Orion's original plan was to wait till the end of class and approach each teacher, no matter how surly they may be, and not plead his case, but more warn them of what would likely happen.
But he had fucked that right the hell up almost immediately.
Right at the moment he opened his mouth he took the whole foot, hoof in this case, and crammed it so far down his throat it was sticking out between his ass cheeks.
He thought he did a great job and covered his mistake as best he could, but could not shake the feeling that Mrs. Greenfield was being far more amicable than any teacher he had met before her.
Even the ones back on earth that smoked pot and came in right at the bell would have tossed him out of their class at what he had done.
Perhaps, it was his elegant speech that he pulled purely from his ass that had saved him?
He shook his head and grinned as he had gathered up his books and writing implements, stuffing them into the satchel. No, he isn't that charming, likely a certain orphanage Directress had a hand in this. He'd have to buy her a Christm- Hearths Warming gift when he could.
After a couple of classes in which had not inserted anything anywhere, either verbally or literally, the lunch bell had rung and Warden Purple had guided him to the cafeteria.
She had been strangely subdued since Mrs. Greenfield's class. Studying him as if he was some type of critter on an examination table. It gave him the absolute creeps.
Ignoring her as best he could, which became easier once they had gotten to the dining hall, he got in line and just gazed about in awe.
If Hogwarts was a real place, and they hadn't bothered so much with the gothic look and dark colors, they would have been a match for here.
Thick heavy pale beams of wood stretched from one end of the wall to the other, with supporting beams at angles holding them up, silver and gold candelabras in ornate sunburst designs hanging from them.
The floor was done in patterns of white and purple tiles, like large stone slabs, with gold trimmings along the edges.
Benches and tables ran the length of the hall in the same pale wood as above. They looked seamless, as if each row was just one long table. It was only once he got a closer look, twitching aside a heavily embroidered linen tablecloth, that he saw that they were just cleverly interlocked together.
Impressive precision.
Across from where he stood in front of the doors, were four massive arched windows. Unlike the rest of the room, the windows seemed plain in comparison. Just large, with wood in a small grid pattern to support the glass.
But what really took the cake for him was the kitchen. Toward his left, at the long end of the cafeteria, were raised tables set up like a buffet.
Cooks and assistants bustled in and out of a pair of swinging doors, carrying large pans full of various foods to those tables, and returning with empty ones.
This beat anything the Manehattan school district could ever hoped to match. They had followed a pattern most American schools did, lunch ladies handing out tiny portions.
Getting to the buffet, his lips curled in a sneer as the very first item he encountered was hay. Seven different types of hay cut up nearly like they were french fries. They had been swapping those out the most he realized, as another cook replaced an empty metal bin in front of him.
He looked away, and spotted his Warden staring at him. Her head slightly cocked to one side. Again, creepy.
Once the line moved down, he found something more palatable for him.
Fruits, some of which he had never seen before, vegetables, and sprouts. None of it was cooked, but he supposed he should have expected so. He took some from each, including a bluish fruit that looked like a blueberry on steroids.
Another shifting of hooves brought him to the pasta line. Glorious pasta. He nearly rejoiced and praised the Lord when he lifted a lid and discovered Alfredo. Too bad there was no chicken, but there was broccoli, so that would do.
It was hard for him to not take more than a moderate amount. But he knew if he ate more he would likely be a vegetable for the rest of the day. Still, he promised himself to savor it.
There was a dessert table, confections and cakes disappearing as fast as they were refilled, and he promptly ignored it.
Fucking ponies and the diabetes inducing snacks they seemed to adore.
As they left the buffet, her in tow with her own tray of food, he looked for a place well away from others. He smiled and zipped to a spot with a view of the gardens. It was on the opposite end of the hall, and a good distance away from everyone else.
It was perfect.
Sitting down, Warden Purple followed suit to his left, he dug in and ignored the crunching as she did also. She of course had hay. Fuckin' horse people.
"Ahem." That was feminine. But not his shadow.
Turning around he was confronted by three unicorns. A male and two females to be precise. All three held their trays in their magic. The colt behind the two fillies was grinning.
"Yeah?" He was really hoping this wasn't gonna be one of those "this my seat" kinda deals.
"You are sitting in our spot." The filly in front spoke, a snide grin on her pink face.
"Christ on a cracker, really?!" He would not tolerate this. But how to go about it without starting a fight?
"Name?" He asked neutrally.
She blinked a couple times in surprise before responding with, "Buttercup Spray, a name of your better." She snarked.
Instead of replying he started lifting his own tray of food out of the way and looking under the cloth of the table, prompting Twilight to do the same in confusion as he looked about.
"What are you doing?" The other filly, green in fur and mane spoke up, imperious tone sounding a bit annoyed.
"Looking for your friend's name, of course." He couldn't help the small chuckles that wanted to bubble up.
It was ridiculous. His life really was some television show. Any moment he was going to find a camera and know he had been had.
"Why would you need to do that?" Pink spoke again. Now confused and definitely annoyed.
"Well to prove that what you said was true, aaaaannnddddd nope. Your name is not here. So you must be mistaken." He turned back, adopting a simpleton's smile. "Sometimes that happens."
The colt in the back was no longer grinning. "Do you not know who we are?!"
"Nope, and before you begin, I really don't care. You mean very little to me." Jaws satisfyingly dropped at that.
Warden Purple had yet to say anything. She watched biting her lip, but not in humor.
He decided he wouldn't let this drag on. He spoke over the three simultaneous sputtering.
"Listen, I get it. You're noble or at least close to it. I could care less for your titles, supposed wealth, or anything else you seem to think you have better than anyone else. I operate on the principle of "first come, first served". Meaning I got here first thus it is mine for the time I sit to the time I get. You want it, get here before me. I don't care, I can easily find a new place." He paused to let that sink in. The trio had stopped trying to talk over him. "Now, as you can see, there are plenty of places here, with the same view might I add, and I have no objections to you sitting here with us. But don't think you can bully me around with your status that you did nothing to earn. Okay?"
He had stood up, and towered over them. He hadn't realized how much shorter they all were then him.
They sped away to the other side of the cafeteria.
Turning around he raised an eyebrow at his escort. "And thanks for the back up, oh silent one."
"I've never seen a pony act like you." She said quietly. The staring was back, open now. Honestly, he had expected her to be outraged.
He sat back down and popped a cherry into his mouth. Her attitude had gone from imperious annoyance to attentive confusion. He supposed he couldn't blame her for that, he certainly didn't act like the typical demure colt or stallion. He dreaded what was to come at the end of the week.
Saturday he was signed up for an hour of Etiquette Class. Mrs. Evergarden was determined to see him as a proper gentle colt. He would not enjoy having to disappoint her.
"Yeah well, what can I say? I'm one of a kind." He began eating in earnest. That confrontation, however brief, wasted minutes on his lunch break. He was determined to slip in a good fifteen minute nap.
The filly had long since finished her own meal, and was now staring at her tray, a frown creasing her features.
"Oh boy, the ol' thinking machine is running."
As he was finishing up his meal, she turned to him.
"I have...been rude. I'm sorry. I...had a very bad start to my day, made worse for being volunteered for this assignment. It's not your fault, but I still blamed you for putting me behind in my studies."
"Wow, that is rather….big of her." He hadn't expected it. He had felt that she would have ended up spending the week with her attached to his ass like a painful wart. To see her head bow like that in shame almost made him feel bad.
He wiped his hand on his pants and stuck one out to her.
"How about we start again?" He asked. He wasn't about to ruin this for her. This was a moment of growth, and even he wasn't stupid enough to get in the way of that. Nor was he that much of a dick. Besides, it would be good to be on speaking terms with someone who was stuck following him around. Once the week was done, they would likely go their separate ways.
"I'd like that." She smiled and took his hand.
"Hello, my name is Orion Falls. Orphan extraordinaire. Master of foul language." That got a snort of laughter from her and he grinned.
"And my name is Twilight Sparkle. Personal student to Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria." He could see her wince.
For his part, he had stopped listening. Seeing, anything. Brain.exe stopped working.
"What?"
Twilight's face scrunched up. She was speaking, but he really wasn't paying attention.
How in the absolute hell did he get into this situation? Not only was his orphanage now owned by the ruler of an entire nation, but now he was being followed/escorted around by her personal student.
His life was a sitcom. Somewhere, somehow, big ugly aliens were watching and laughing their asses off. All three of them.
He noticed she had stopped running her mouth and had an anguished look on her face.
He thought very quickly.
"Well, that's…. something. My Warden is not only smart, but attached to royalty." He grinned as a thought occurred to him. "I can appreciate the hustle."
She blinked back owlishly. He could practically read her thoughts through her eyes.
"Warden? Hustle? What do you mean?" Gone was the pensive and confused look, instead was the beginnings of anger and embarrassment.
"Warden, as you are essentially my jailer and guard. And hustle, meaning you worked hard for your position and achieved something truly amazing. I can assume that it is rare for her to take a student?"
As he explained her face lightened, his question got a sparkle in her eyes.
"Oh yes! She hasn't had a student in twenty or so years!" She gushed.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sparkle." He grinned as she winced.
That was interesting.
"Likewise Mr. Falls." They shook hands.
Silence.
"Why are your teeth shaped like that?"
Oh boy, he was not going to get that nap.
Author's Note
By now, many of you have noticed the changes. I would hope.
In my original work, I felt I did a disservice to Celestia. I made her mean and cruel with no real benefit to the story other than a huge sign saying, THIS IS THE BAD GUY. It was short sighted.
For you long time readers, ya know what I am talking about.
I think I did a much better job this time around.
As always, gimme a comment so I know how well I am doing.
Thanks for reading!
The assumption that his classes would be easy did not prove as accurate as hoped.
He had the standard litany of courses, of course. Equish, or English as it was known to him, Math, History, and Science. That last barely merited the title in his opinion, but it was still part of his curriculum. There wasn't really a gym class though after-school activities might warrant looking into at a later time.
Mathematics in this school quickly turned into a trial he had not expected, having initially dismissed the laughably inadequate curriculum in Manehattan as the norm. That was now proving a grave mistake, as many of the formulas and applications were utterly new. What he had learned before had been child's tricks compared to what was required for him to memorize now.
So much for an easy ride.
Science proved to be something else entirely once he had sat halfway through class. While not as tricky as math, it was still interesting that the subject vastly predicated itself on the effects magic had on the physical world.
There were also significant religious overtones within the field of study; things such as Celestia moving the sun and moon were taken as fact. Orion's original assumption that those "facts" were now being called into question, challenging his belief that it was all mythos.
The idea of existence relying solely on one individual, bloodline or not, scared the ever-loving shit out of him. He resolved then and there that he needed to confirm those rumors, one way or another.
Equish, his first-class, was essentially the same as Manhattan, just as ponified as before.
History was his second to last class after lunch. It was as dull and happy-go-lucky as propaganda could get. Extolling the virtues of pony society and how they could do no wrong. Peppered in were wrongs they had righted in history, as well as the complicated nature in which their civilization formed.
To borrow a word from Mr. Era, it was all very droll. Orion could read between the lines, and it was easy to spot the gaps in the timeline, even if there was no clue to what had actually happened.
One sticking point, and another thing he was rather upset about, was the Reunification War. It was the usual civil conflict spiel, save for the outcome. At the end of it all, a massive, almost incredible amount of stallions died during the years of that single conflict.
This is considered the most significant contribution to mares taking the forefront of society, undoubtedly furthered by the ruling elite, the Princesses themselves.
Mr. Era pointed out that while those numbers have improved, there are still a lot of females to males. Current projections suggest that in five or so hundred years, they could see a more balanced population; the rate suspected would be three to one rather than the eight to one average now.
His final class, and the longest, was Magical Theory and Application, where the mathematics of the morning came back to haunt him with a vengeance.
Thirty minutes into class, Orion ran into an unfortunate complication, and a creeping suspicion washed over him. He feared that there might be something wrong with his body or horn in this case.
Not only did he have a range issue, but he was much, much weaker than the other kids in his class.
The first spell taught was a simple light spell, a candle flame without the wick. It was something the black colt knew already. But Mr. Cottonridge wanted to see how many the students could make, and how large each flame could be. Within reason.
It was then that he began to struggle.
At four, he was sweating, breathing hard at the effort of casting and maintaining as large a flame as he could. The math had been simple, but it was like pulling wire through a hole far too small for what was needed.
He almost passed out as he got to five, his knees wobbling dangerously.
Twilight, in an effort to look helpful, gave an example. She created twenty-five massive flames, more like orbs, just to start. He didn't bother counting as that number rose with multiple points of light continuing to form.
He was suddenly very glad he decided against hitting her with a stone when they had first met. It was more than likely that she would have buried him in one of the gravel pathways.
The filly was a freak of nature, that was without a doubt, and her look of pity as he struggled to reach his fifth flame made him want to break a rule he had set for himself. He Hated pity.
And the longer this struggle went on; the more Mr. Cottonridge mocked him for his feeble efforts. Wasn't it a teacher's job to be supportive and a shoulder to lean on when needed? It took everything in him not to lash out physically when the other students joined in the jeering.
He gave up after the headache grew too much to bear and collapsed in his chair. His jaw throbbed in time with his skull as he had clenched it, redoubling his exertions to no avail.
As the rest of the class individually performed their own, the differences were made clear.
One filly even made forty-eight of them. While not as large as his Warden's, or as many, it was still impressive.
His giving up as he had, tore a hole in his heart. Dreams of being able to use magic like everyone else seemed like dust now. A childhood fantasy shattered before it could even grow.
Was that it? Was that all his ability would allow for him to do? He frowned in thought. If that was the case, how might he close that gap?
He looked on as the others performed as if they had been born with it. And in truth, they had been. From birth, these unicorns knew things he was only just grasping. He was still a human in a horse suit.
Was it something to do with his strange biology?
Outside of levitation and the weak-ass spells he had managed to learn, he knew next to nothing. They likely knew much more by this time.
He would have to push harder. Orion was farther behind on the curve than he had initially believed.
Twilight had been a surprise for several reasons. After her near one-eighty from that morning, she seemed to have an unending stream of questions to pester him with. He kept his answers short and had to tell her at least three times that his teeth were classified. He had no idea how she had noticed them and thought it best not to let her know anything about what they meant and their real purpose.
She had finally relented on the subject when he just growled at her, leveling a stare that very much spoke of wanting to melt her into the floor.
Still, toward the end of that final period, she had compiled a list of books to help him fix, or at least make up the difference he had compared to everyone else. It was…nice. He hadn't imagined she would try and be so helpful.
The day had been a whirlwind of learning and humiliation; he was already on the school's steps by the time he realized it. He had come too far, survived too much. He had to bridge that chasm, one way or another.
He was missing something. Something important. He boarded the tram with a grim smile on his face. He had come too far to be held up by something like this.
That smile faded as he realized something. He had completely forgotten to say goodbye to his shadow for the day. Instead, he opted to almost completely ignore her as he made his way out of the school grounds.
"I'm a fucking asshole." He lamented.
Twilight stood, watching Orion climb up the stairs to the tram system she had followed him to.
After the disastrous start, things had gone better. He was really surprisingly funny if a little crass. His mannerism was much aligned with a filly rather than a colt.
He had also proven far more intelligent than she had suspected. But some of what he spoke about when asked went over her head. Despite her being ahead by a year, he seemed the older and wiser of the two of them. He knew and thought of things she had not even begun to contemplate.
She had noticed his struggles in Mathematics. But by the time she was showing some worry, he was starting to improve in that brief period. She hoped it would only amount to a minor hurdle for him.
But then came Theory and Control, and she watched him struggle so hard to make those five orbs. She had remembered Mr. Cottonridge from her classes last year, and she hated the stallion then. There was always one student he targeted as an example. Something for the foals to focus their ire on. Even to her young mind, she immediately knew he was in the wrong. But she wasn't brave enough to stand up to him about it then.
Just as she wasn't now, watching him swiftly walk away.
Orion clearly wanted to explode on the older pony, but she could see the self-doubt and fear, war on his face. There was no argument he could make.
She sighed and turned around after the tramcar rolled away.
A royal carriage stood at the entrance to the school's ground, her royal carriage.
Painted in gold, white and purple, it had her cutie mark on wall panels. Indicating to anypony who looked who was inside.
After two years, it was still a surreal feeling to see that. Never in her young life had she imagined this moment. As she approached the coach, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of the day she was accepted as her Highness's student.
Plaster and wood struck the cracked tiled floor near where she lay, startling her.
"Wh...what happened?" Twilight was covered in dust and tiny pieces of purple and green shell. She had remembered focusing on the green and purple splotched egg in front of her. After all, it was her test, though, at the time, she had no idea why hatching the rather large egg was so important.
Princess Celestia was standing there, a serene and good-natured smile on her face that at the time seemed so knowing. Her parents watched on in anticipation and confidence, beaming at her with broad grins.
The magic examiner in charge only just watched, a frown that seemed to be a permanent adornment on her face.
Twilight's horn was shining, but nothing was coming. As the seconds became minutes, she had started to doubt herself more and more.
She should have never tried. What was she thinking? Trying to become the Princess's student? It was laughable to her now.
A sudden and loud boom followed by a shudder of the tower they were in itself made her shriek in terror, and many things happened at once.
She had been so focused on the egg that the sudden noise and vibration made instinct kick in, and she lashed out wildly with the built-up magic. No focus. No control.
Coming to, she discovered a massive dragon of purple and green blocking her view of the examiner. Its head was through the roof. Gazing about herself, she spotted several potted plants, twisted and not quite right as they were wearing clothes of various species, scattered around the room.
Where were her parents?
Princess Celestia stood to the side, a pair of plants flanking her wearing, oddly enough, the armor of the Royal Guard. Spears lay in front of them.
The Princess's eyes were wide, with a small bemused smile.
"P-p-princess? W-w-wh-"
A flare of light on both her hips cut her short, the shining luminance going right through the skirt she wore. Sparkles and a strange tinkling sound echoed in the room as warmth flooded through her flanks and into the rest of her.
Scrambling, Twilight yanked up her skirt and gasped in surprise. There was a cutie mark just below her waist on both sides of her hips. Her cutie mark.
A six-pointed star of bright pink sat there with a hint of a white star of the same number of points peeking out behind it. Five other little white stars seemed to orbit the large pink one.
Tears came to her eyes of shock and wonder.
"What happened, my dear little pony, is that you have found your talent. In magic itself, no less." The soft and gentle tone of the Royal Monarch caught her ears.
Looking up, she saw the alicorn glancing around, now with a wide grin on her face.
"In a rather explosive way, I might add." She chuckled. "Don't worry, Twilight. I can fix this. But first, I would ask you, would you do me the honor of becoming my student?"
Tears no longer leaked; they flooded from the filly's wide purple eyes. There was only one answer she could give.
"YES!"
She giggled to herself at the memory.
She was surprised to learn that she had somehow tapped into dark magic on top of casting a time spell.
That had scared her.
The dark magic, especially as she had no idea how she had done it and hadn't since that first time.
Looking out the window, Twilight realized they had already pulled into the castle's outer court and made their way toward the gatehouse. The portcullis was up, and a division of Royal Guard's arrayed outside.
It had become a familiar sight for her these past few years, yet she did not think she would ever get used to it.
As she stepped out, they saluted her, which just drew a sigh. She hated that part.
Nodding graciously, she quickly pulled out a book and began her journey into the castle, her nose buried into the pages as she began to study. She hadn't had that opportunity all day, so she made up for the lost time.
As she traversed the halls, her hooves taking her to her destination by muscle memory alone, she ignored what had become a routine view for her. The hanging plants from gold hooks, the expansive white and gold floor tiles with large sunbursts chiseled and gilded every few yards, the banners stirring gently in the drafts. Even the lovely afternoon sun that filtered in through stained windows that note stories went unnoticed by her.
She had seen it all so much that it had become the norm for her.
A hand shot out and stopped her in her tracks. Startled, she dropped the book and took a couple of steps back, only to blush in embarrassment. She had nearly walked right into the golden double doors of the Princess's private rooms.
The arm that shot out to stop her belonged to Silver Bell, who was currently biting her lip to stop from laughing.
This hadn't been the first time Twilight had nearly walked headlong into something. During the early days, when she had not known where she was going, she often would run into ponies, walls, doors, and windows as trying to study as she walked.
So guards and the castle staff had taken to keeping an eye out for her whenever they spotted her.
"Sorry, Silver Bell, I wasn't paying much attention." The mare smoothed her face and smiled down at her.
"It's alright there, little one, but I 'ave to say, not seen you nearly smashin' inta doors like dat in 'while. Somfthin' on your mind?" Her low, cockney accent, which had made Twilight giggle over the years, did little to lift her mood now.
Despite being a Unicorn, Silver Bell grew up on the Isles of Bales. The islands sat northwest of Equestria's capital, in the bay of Ruby Breast. Other than the fabled Crystal Empire, that was as far north as most ponies would, or ever did, go.
Her people's language was hard to decipher. While they spoke in Equish, their accent was so thick that some scholars theorized that an entirely new language would have developed in another three or four hundred years if they had not been found when they were.
"Yeah, just been an awful day." The purple filly smiled meekly, her ears still a little pink.
"Well that's alright, somftimes we all have our heads in the clouds." She gestured with her head. "In ya git. Princess 'adn't 'ad the best day neither."
Twilight's mouth formed a worried line. "Thank you."
"Not a problem, love. Now git yer arse in there." Opening the door with one hand, she pushed her in with the end of the spear she was holding.
Entering with a little more force than she wanted, she spotted who she had been looking for at the end of a rather large study.
Here, where everywhere else were colored white and gold, was a library in dark wood. Instead of bare tiles, great carpets from Maris covered the floor, intricate patterns bordered in warm gold colors.
The study itself was two stories in a circular shape; following the tower's curve, it had been built inside.
The window, that spanned the gap left by the shelves opposite the entrance was as tall as the highest mantle. A beautiful mosaic of stained glass and metal depicting the sun at its zenith, and the foundation of the three tribes as one, bathed the room in the warm light of the afternoon sunlight.
A gorgeous sight for anypony and a reminder of whose office this was.
At the foot of the window sat a large desk in the same wood as the bookshelves that surrounded it, and in the ornate wooden chair that sat behind it, was Princess Celestia, First of Her Name, Mover of the Heavens and Ruler of Equestria.
Her mouth was stuffed with cake, chocolate coating some parts of her lips. There wasn't much left on the plate, but she suspected head Chef Gourmand Ram's "Death By Chocolate" from what Twilight could see.
"This must have been an awful day." It wasn't even six, and she had nearly devoured it in its entirety.
Before she could utter a greeting, Princess Celestia quickly swallowed what was in her mouth, and belched loudly. A blush blossomed on her ears and cheeks, going almost solid pink.
"Bad day, Princess?" She asked tentatively. She still wasn't used to addressing her in any kind of familiarity. But she thought she was improving.
"You…could say that. I sneezed into the face of Marble Stone, the Saddle Arabian ambassador. It came so suddenly, and I couldn't even stop myself in time!" She sniffed. "And when I was beginning to believe it was a fluke, it happened again! Right in the middle of Day Court. It was so embarrassing!" She finished in a wail.
Her eyes looked for more cake and found only crumbs and frosting that remained.
Twilight giggled. She was likely not as upset as she seemed, but her mentor occasionally liked to be dramatic.
"What about you, my student? I would expect you to be sequestered in either the school or Royal libraries by now. What brings you to me? Trouble with a class?"
She took a seat in one of the ornate chairs in front of her mentor's desk and grimaced.
"Not exactly with class…"
Orion Falls. She had most certainly heard that name before. Lucky Write had an encounter with him only a week ago.
From what she said, he was a rude little colt that needed his mouth washed vigorously with the most potent soap and water anypony could find.
Judging by what her student had just told her. It either didn't happen or hadn't worked, which somehow amused her.
However, his argument against the condemnation of his language was poignant and surprisingly refreshing. His recitation, which clearly seemed to be the case, though she could not remember a book with that particular passage written within, was poignant and remarkably refreshing.
"The Path of Tyrants..." She murmured.
"I'm sorry, Princess, what did you say?" Twilight had at one point opened a scroll that she had jotted notes down into, notes on answers to her questions about Orion. Typically adorable of her.
"Nothing of importance, Twilight." She quickly amended.
As the little filly sat in a chair far too big for her, recounting her day, she had been surprised.
The colt didn't just bear a rough tongue. He was brilliant. It was often said that the rudest of ponies were often the most intelligent. The thought of that surly stallion, Starswirl, almost made her chuckle. Now there was a cantankerous pony.
Her student hadn't got much of his past out of him either. He hailed from Stalliongrad and grew up on the streets themselves. But despite rather humble beginnings, he seemed to keep up with the work presented to him easily. Only when the Theory and Control arrived did his calm and collected attitude evaporate.
He understood the subject quickly enough. But when it came to application, he didn't measure up to the rest of the class. Celestia suspected it might be because he had only really begun to learn about magic.
But Mr. Cottonridge was far out of line and would have to be confronted on his behavior. She would not tolerate belittling of her school's students in any form. No matter what station in life they bore.
Teachers were supposed to be nurturing and supportive. He was not living up to that standard.
Turning her attention back to her student, she now knew what had her upset and what she may ask. But there was nothing she could do to help the young colt. A pony's growth can only be determined by the effort they, themselves, put in.
Twilight continued to recount her day spent with him; she was forced to bite her tongue to not laugh aloud when she listened to how he had handled the bullying during lunch.
She would have to look into his history. It would be easy and convenient, considering she now owned the orphanage he was housed in. If only by the fact that it was under the Throne's supervision.
"I understand why you are upset, Twilight. But I know of no magic nor artifact that may help with improving a pony's ability. There may have been something long ago, but that knowledge is lost to time." Lost to the countless wars that plagued the world in the ancient past.
Ears folded back, her student's head hung. The news was not what she had wanted to hear, and her disappointment broke Celestia's heart. But this was one of the many lessons she needed to learn if she were to achieve all that she had hoped the young pony would.
The actual problem lay in her social ability, or lack of it.
Twilight would isolate herself in the libraries or her room, deep in study when not peppering her with a thousand questions. Learning spells and their effects on the natural world. She was so far along in her studies she technically did not need to remain in regular classes. But she felt it essential for the filly to have an everyday school life and to broaden her knowledge in as many things as possible.
Few subjects were outside her interest. Two of which may have scarred her when she was still young, the day she earned her cutie mark. Dark and Time magic. They frightened her, Celestia was not blind, and every push toward those subjects was met with surprisingly firm resistance.
Outside her studies, there was no interest in anything or anypony. Musty old tomes held more for her than anything else.
That was, till today. Judging by her enthusiasm and the way she spoke of him, Orion Falls may just be the catalyst Celestia had been looking for in solving that little problem.
She would have to be careful; however, she wanted her student to learn from her friendship with the colt, not become enamored with him. As harsh as it sounded to her, she could not allow her protege's future to be muddled by a pony with little ability. If Twilight were to find a special somepony, it would be one of fantastic skill and strength. One handpicked by her teacher.
Still, some coaching on how to help a friend was in order. And who knows, maybe she would have a chance to meet this crass young stallion for herself.
After the embarrassing first day, the week swiftly flowed by in a haze of homework and stalkers of the purple persuasion. Awkward and always watching, it had become just as much a chore keeping her questions at bay as doing his own work.
That wasn't to say she wasn't helpful, but Twilight seemed to take her job as a guide a little too seriously.
Visiting the library with her ended with him carrying nearly twenty books on various mathematical theories home with him.
She wasn't just powerful in magic, she was pretty brilliant in academics. All academics. When she got too out of hand with her need to help, he would hit her with a formula of his own.
Despite mathematical advancement, it was still early to mid-eighteenth century alchemy for their society. Of course, some of his formulas didn't work anymore. He had discovered that on his own. He wouldn't be making methamphetamines any time soon, and there was no sign of marijuana in any botany books he could find.
Just as well, really. That nonsense was what led Orion down this path, to begin with, considering where he ended up in the end.
Still, he taught her how to make penicillin, something they didn't have here, as a simple spell could easily alleviate symptoms. He really should have been a pharmacist like his grandpa told him. But that had required school, and he didn't like school.
Now he was once again in school. Orion couldn't escape. He wanted to laugh at the irony.
All in all, she had been a far cry better than the first half of Monday, and while he was happy to see her go back to her own classes, he would miss her.
But then again, she was finally gone, and he was beginning a routine all his own. Starting with the gym early in the morning. He almost quit.
On the third day, he woke to aches and pains he could no longer ignore. Instead of sympathy, Mrs. Evergarden gave him some weird tea while admonishing him for going overboard.
The tea worked surprisingly well, but not as much as he would have liked. Some numbing chemical in the leaves?
Still, he took that for the lesson it was and restructured his plans. He was sticking to three days a week until his little body had grown used to the strains and rigors of a more athletic nature.
Screaming, the other woman in his life had become an insistent annoyance. It was not necessarily bad or anything, just that she wanted to play, and he really couldn't afford to babysit.
She was five years his senior, at least in the body if not mind, seemed not to bother her at all.
She was also very grateful for the fact that because of him, they now had a fridge full of meat for themselves. Not just fish, either.
There was a type of boar found in Griffonia called a sheridit. A leggy animal that ate damn near anything. Including its own. It was fuckin' delicious. Damn close to beef, which was good because the cows in this world talked and had bipedal motion. He had not met one yet but feared the day.
There was also cockatrice meat. From what he had read, it was basically Medusa tarred and feathered. It tastes just like chicken. Apparently, it was dangerous to hunt them, so there was a price increase.
All this was provided by contract from griffons that supplied communities of their kind in major cities.
He had plenty of protein to help pack on muscle, and Screaming reaped the benefits as well. So she tried to hang out. For her trouble, he started speaking about history with her, Griffonia's rather troubled history.
For him, it was an interesting if sad, subject. The nation had been declining for the last six hundred or so years.
A largely isolationist country, Griffonia had been on the receiving end of embargoes and tariffs for centuries. Primarily due to their own poor decisions. The last major conflict occurred roughly five hundred years ago. What would have been a bloody and violent fight ended up turning into one of the largest blunders in known history.
Griffonia's King at the time, Darkwing Bloodbeak, an edgy emo name if he ever heard of one, chose to attack during Equestria's Estrus Season. He ended up choosing Manehattan as the point of his strike.
The logic had been to use the weakness the season forced on the mares of the nation. Instead, what had happened was an orgy of sorts that resulted in the birth of an entirely new species; Hippogriffs. They now dwelled in the land of Neighbon, a land of sheer cliff walls and rocky ground not fit for farming that had been caught in a dispute between Equestria and Griffonia for years. Neither side wished to house the new race and decided to hand the disputed territory to them.
The thought at the time was that the species would not last more than a couple hundred years before disappearing, and the two nations could go back to contesting the land. However, Orion could not find a reason to argue over what was considered useless territory by everyone other than stubborn nobility.
Instead, the Hippogriffs and the families that spawned them ended up turning a trick. The seaport of Neighbon became a major trade and fishing harbor in less than a century, and they thrived. Now the nation is one of the most well-funded countries in the world. Many of its ruling class were merchants and traders that had risen to prominence in the early years.
If not for the tiny nation, Griffonia might have gone under completely. Rising prices set on them by Celestia had crippled their wealthiest and had made investors turn tail and run. Neighbon had been gracious to sell fish and what products they brought in at cost. However, they did take advantage of reduced taxes when moving goods through what was essentially their parent nation.
In short, Griffonia had been subject to bad decisions made by bad griffons in leadership.
Screaming had listened attentively but did not like the subject. He supposed she had reason to hate it.
When it got too much for the griffon, her only other friend that he knew about would somehow know exactly when to swoop in and rescue her from his "lectures”.
Storming Wing had trouble with a capital T written all over her. The pegasus filly was known for pulling rather mean pranks on the other foals and even random adults on the street.
There had been one incident, and only one, that had involved him. She had dumped water on him the morning of his twelfth day at the orphanage, and she had been dumb enough to still be in the room afterward, laughing her feathers off.
By the time she had staggered out of his room, ten minutes later, she was rubbing her bottom and crying.
Mrs. Evergarden disagreed with his method of punishment, reminding him of what he claimed he would try to do. But he thought he was rather nice about the whole thing. His first instinct had been to give her a black eye.
That instinct had given him pause on more than one occasion. He did not like the fact that he had somehow slipped so easily into the idea of hurting a woman, girl, mare, filly, whatever the hell they called themselves. He did not like it. He had been raised better than that.
Even at his worst back on earth, he had never struck a woman. Now, he had been contemplating it whenever a female had been particularly awful to him, like the two fillies during lunch that first day.
It could be because of the switch in roles. Many colts he talked to called Orion a Jane Filly, as if he knew what that meant. But they all seemed to agree he wasn't like one of them. That was true, he supposed, and in this society, it would not earn him friends easily, though that had mattered very little to him.
Still, she had not bothered him again, and he had not struck anyone else. He was keeping to his not-promise despite the temptations that sounded him on a daily basis.
A couple of months later, things were turning up golden. The pun was intended in this case. For the most part, magic classes still sucked ass, but things under the roof of "Mrs. Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals" was as green as grass.
The whiny, stuffy crybaby, Golden Trot had finally been adopted. Orion had only wished it was snowing so he could pelt the brat in the back of the head with a snowball when the carriage had pulled up to take him away.
A rather fancy white carriage with golden inlays and a symbol of two four-pointed stars, overlapping one another, one white and the other gold.
Good riddance. Even better? He was leaving the school. That news was practically orgasmic.
He had been trying to stir up trouble against him with some of the more troublesome foals in school. Luckily, many didn't buy into the idea that he was a meat-eating monster.
So yes, good riddance to bad rubbish.
He stayed the course with school, gym, and not much else. His grasp of their mathematics grew. Whoever that Starswirl guy was, he was an asshole for making it so confusing.
When Hearth's Warming came up, he bought Mrs. Evergarden a small tree called a "Hearts Blossom" with the bits he had saved up. A rather pretty tree that bloomed with pink flowers, and had even brighter pink leaves as well.
He figured she could plant it in the garden she had begun to build during the fall. Spring wouldn't be too far off. She was delighted.
It had been hard to keep the purchase hidden, considering she had access to all his money. But he had managed to get her to let him "surprise" her.
For everyone else, he just got them knick-knacks. Even Screaming only got a book on griffon flight mechanics.
Storming got coal.
January arrived with little fanfare and brought misery in with it.
Sitting in his Equish class, Orion’s work was already done, and he was contemplating what to do about his locker that someone vandalized over the holiday. He never used it, but it was the principal of the thing that had him considering violence.
The problem was he didn't have a lot to go on. Janitorial were usually the ones that ended up cleaning whatever mess was made in the halls, and they had neglected to clean his locker out.
"Maybe I should start with questioning them-"
The door popped open, and in walked Mr. Clip Board. He was a guidance councilor of sorts for the school. One of eight.
"Good morning, my students!" He said enthusiastically.
"Not technically your students, but whatever, believe what you want."
Mrs. Greenfield had smiled when he had entered. Orion's spider-sense was tingling.
"Mr. Board, what brings you to our humble classroom?" She said; the twinkle in her eye screaming that she was in on whatever was coming. Something was definitely up, and they were not bothering to hide it from those paying attention.
"I have exciting news!" He boomed. The short, bluff-faced stallion practically vibrated with excitement.
"Wonderbolts show?" He had heard a great deal about the aerial acrobatics team and considering how fast some pegasi were, it would be interesting to see how they handled tight turns with extreme speed.
"This Friday, your class will be attending Day Court! And meeting Princess Celestia herself!"
The class exploded in excitement.
"You have got to be shitting me." This was the very last thing he wanted. How was he going to get out of this?
It turns out, that trying to get a stomach ache when you want one, when it's convenient for you, is impossible. Either that or his newish biology was far more robust than when he was human.
Instead, Friday morning found him with the rest of his class, standing in front of two gigantic golden doors. Reliefs carved into them stylized, almost tribal designs on the borders. A large sunburst, divided by the door seam itself, sat in the center. If he had to guess, that door was fifteen feet tall. Who in the hell needed a door that big?
The castle itself was nothing less than stunning. Massive towers, capped in gold, blue and purple, surrounded a central cathedral-like building with mosaics and stained glass windows, all in white with accents of gold.
Orion whistled through his teeth. There was some serious cash tossed onto this money pit.
Mrs. Greenfield was nervously fiddling with her clipboard and repeatedly counting the heads of her class. The mare needed a drink or a valium.
Their Equish teacher had been the lucky draw for being the class chaperone. Rumor had it that Mr. Cottonridge was pissed. Orion was ready to change places with the asshole that very moment if he could.
A head peeked itself out of the smaller side door that was built as a service door for servants and deliveries. The door, of course, was gold too. And, of course, Lucky Write just had to be the individual assigned to them for the day.
He put a much taller filly, Carpet Dancer, between them. He didn’t see the sense in starting the drama early.
"Ah, Mrs. Greenfield, I trust everypony is here?" She said with a quick smile.
Instead of their teacher answering her, she received a class full of excited cheers minus one black colt. Her smile turned into a broad grin.
"I will take that as a yes." She said with a laugh, delight in her eyes. Miss Write ducked back inside and called out. "Well, colts and fillies, come. Single file, mind you, would not wish to cram the door now, would we?"
Orion was nearly the last to walk in, Mrs. Greenfield bringing up the rear, and had to endure the surprising glare from the secretary pony. She either forgot his name or didn't realize he was with this particular class.
"You." She stated just a bit too harshly if he was to judge. The veiled venom in her tone caught the attention of several of his classmates. Their eyes darted between the pair quickly.
"Yes, me." He didn't know what to say. He should have expected this encounter, but other things had been on his mind, and he had not thought about it.
"Are you going to behave?" Not a whisker of deviation from that voice of hers.
"Are you going to try and give me that overly sweet-death-by-sugar candy?" He shot back, trying to match her stare for stare.
"No."
"Then we should have no issues." He sighed heavily. "Look, lady. I just want to get through this without too much hassle. I want no problems. Just peace. Okay?" He gave his best apologetic look. "And for what it's worth, sorry." There. He said it. He could be polite.
In response, she snorted, very horse-like, and turned away from him. A clearly fake smile plastered on her lips. "Okay, colts and fillies. This way to Day Court. Don't lose sight of me." She gestured for everyone to fall in behind her.
Mrs. Greenfield cast a questioning glance at him. She wasn't the only one.
"None of that was anyone's business but ours, come on. I have a feeling this place is a labyrinth." He passed a fair share of classmates before, as one mob, the group moved further into the beautiful and bright environment of the castle.
She wanted cake, and she wanted it right now.
There were few pleasures in her role as ruler of the most prosperous pony nation. Being able to order cake when and where she wanted should have been one of them.
Instead, she just sat on her throne, bejeweled and garbed in the best silks, passing judgment on such things as zoning disagreements.
Sadly, Picker Basket and Whispered Fruit were arguing over roughly ten acres of land that the pairs' families had shared for the better part of two hundred years. A recent spat between the herds forced her to hear their inane arguments.
The land wasn't even profitable to hold! Down the middle of the ten acres is a large crack in the earth leading out to Ghastly Gorge. The terrain itself is more stone than soil. But bitter stallions, it seems, will argue over anything.
This was the whole reason why she encouraged the formation of local courts and magistrates in various shires, townships, and cities. They were intended to handle any land disputes that may arise.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lucky Write. She was discreetly coming in through a side door. Behind her, filed in her guests, just as quiet as their guide. She couldn't help the smile that broke through her stern visage.
Celestia loved foals. Especially those not yet in their teen years. The wonder, the joy, it was so enrapturing. Disappointingly, it was rare that she would get the chance to see them.
Dignitaries often left their offspring behind when entreating with her and her nature. And it was an absolute miracle if she could arrange a time to visit her school she had founded so many years ago. It left a hole in her heart that she could not engage with the young as she had in the distant past.
So today was truly special for her, and she would enjoy it.
Just then, she realized all had gone quiet. Looking back, she realized both stallions had stopped to stare at her. They looked angry. At her!
It was enough to make her giggle. But she had still paid attention, if only with half an ear.
"Gentlestallions, this is a simple matter." Ghastly Gorge has been a protected status sanctuary for six hundred years. Many of the species inside the refuge existed nowhere else. On top of that, those very same species were some of the most dangerous in the world. "Tell me, is the land profitable?"
Basket was the one to respond first. The mulberry stallion in course brown linens frowned. "Um, no, your Highness."
She looked at Fruit, and he only gave a grudging nod. Satisfied, she went on.
"As I am sure you two are aware, there is a rupture in that plot of land that leads right back to Ghastly Gorge. Given the creatures and the status of the Gorge itself, I propose that the disputed land be attached officially to the said refuge. Thus taking away the trouble between your two herds and protecting everypony at large." She smiled satisfactorily to herself. Basket opened his mouth, likely to interject, and she overrode him. "The safety of my ponies is my highest priority. In fact, I should have done this long ago. However, I had not been made aware of this particular recess until you filed for a dispute. I must thank you. You both have brought forth an issue that needed rectification. A small gift will be dispensed to both of you. Both as compensation and to reimburse the cost of traveling here."
It would not be substantial, barely covering both the return trip and the original ticket to get to her city. It would be a reminder for them not to waste her time on trivial matters, yet wouldn't cripple the families' own coffers so that they could keep planting without struggle.
Both stallions shut their mouths as one and eyed each other before bowing and thanking her for the trouble of taking over the land from them.
The now sanctified land would also act as a border between them. Hopefully, reducing issues for the local authorities. Yes, very well done if she said so herself.
With their departure came another, a mare, in her best refinery. Celestia suppressed a sigh. She wished she could just call the Court closed now. But she had to put on a show for the little ones. With that in mind, she focused on the matter of tax law that Lady Frost Frostburg wished to adjust.
Really this should have been brought before Parliament.
Orion kept to the group's rear as best he could, earning a quizzical look from an otherwise statue of a guard on occasion. He hoped that there would be a little meet and greet, a brief tour of the more boring bits of the castle, and then they would be on their way home.
When they had first entered, he had barely kept from gaping. The mare was the first thing that caught his eye. How could she not, after all?
Princess Celestia sat on a throne of pure white marble on a purple cushion laced with gold tassels and trimming. She had to be the biggest pony he had ever seen.
In textbooks, it was said that she was roughly nine feet tall, and looking at the Princess, he could believe it. The monarch was damned gorgeous to boot.
Garbed in a white toga style dress, trimmed in gold, the Monarch of the Sun, Princess Celestia of Equestria, was every bit the Royal one might expect. Without all the inbreeding required.
She wore a crown of gold set with amethyst gems. A thick chain of gold in a very similar style to the crown draped down her chest. More gold adorned her arms in the form of thin bracelets and armlets. She certainly loved her purple and gold.
All white with a warm glow, she sat straight back and proud, wings gently tucked up. A gold chain was attached to several bands along with her horn in small arches.
Her magenta eyes were motherly, even while her expression was stern. But they did nothing to detract from her beauty and grace. Her mane flowed in an unfelt breeze that made the shifting colors of dawn ripple.
"How in the hell does it do that?"
However, the more base parts of his still adult mind had locked onto other things.
Her rear filled that seat completely, and it was a wide seat. Which meant she had a vast plot. Women, the world over would be jealous.
Her breasts were nothing to dismiss either.
Those massive mammaries managed to stretch the fabric of her dress in an almost threatening manner. If there had been buttons there, they would have undoubtedly struggled to contain.
The only word he could come to describe her is stunning.
"This lady? That's the ruler of a nation?" She looked like a porn director's wet dream.
He shook his head and pulled his eyes away from her. That same guard that had shot him the curious look snickered. He sent a glare in return.
Glancing around and ignoring the matter being discussed, he took in the sights. The Royal Court of the Sun was a bit similar to a rectangle, the ends were rounded rather than flat.
Purple curtains with gold trim, he sensed a theme here, framed a multitude of windows that let in as much light as possible. A large stained glass mosaic sat behind the throne, depicting the sun itself, fostering life and growth.
The floor was marble like the throne, with sunburst and gold trim on each tile. Across from Orion was some form of enclosed bleachers. Various snooty-looking ponies of what was likely high station populated the seats.
On his side was the same, but the occupants were more elderly and bored-looking.
Pretty damn fancy.
While he was gazing about, something was starting to bug him. He had noticed it when he first stepped hoof into the room. A heavy pressure he had at first chalked up to nervousness permeated him to his bones.
Looking back at the Princess, that pressure increased. Like a physical weight being dropped on him. It was almost suffocating. He looked at his teacher, and she was just standing there, an excited smile on her face but otherwise seemingly unaffected.
A look at his classmates showed the same. Even the ponies in the bleachers and in line didn't appear to be affected. Could no one feel that?
He looked once more at the Princess, again creeping doubts filled his mind. "Could she really control the sun and moon?" It was a thought. One he tried to kill with prejudice and failed.
His eyes drifted to the floor before his hooves, a frown creasing his features as he tried to reason out the how and why he felt what he was feeling.
He had not realized they were moving till they were. Court had been adjourned, and they were being shuffled to another side door that took them down a hall to a private receiving room. The pressure lessened when they left the chamber but did not truly go away.
Decorated much the same as everything else seemed to be, it was populated with couches and chairs of various designs with the exact same color schemes.
There were plants here, in marbled pots, just as there had been throughout the castle. Just more noticeable with the chamber's relatively small size.
Sitting down into the surprisingly cushy seat, he was forced to spring back up almost immediately when the double doors opened to admit the towering Monarch.
Bowing with the class, he silently prayed that she was the typical type of ruler who did not have, nor made, the time for the common folk. That this was all being forced upon her.
"Please, please, rise. You are my guests today." As one, they rose, those around him practically vibrating with excitement. He looked on in thinly veiled horror as she asked, "Would you all allow me the privilege to know your names? I very much wish to be allowed to know each of you."
"Well, shit…"
One by one, the foals introduced themselves to her. Stumbling over their own names so cutely as she smiled down graciously at them, murmuring their names back to them in gentle tones.
By Faust, she loved little moments like these.
Toward the end, a uniformly black colt with a dark orange mane stepped forward, if just, and muttered his name.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess. My name is Orion Falls." He said sourly.
Her smile slipped a little in surprise. Unlike the others, he had not stumbled through his introduction. But that was not what had given her pause. Standing before her, with a grimace of distaste as plain as her day on his face, was the very colt Twilight would talk her ears off about at least three times a week.
She wondered what had him so upset.
She briefly debated the merits of questioning him on his discomfort at that very moment but instead only smiled kindly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Falls."
For a moment, he merely looked at her before turning around and sitting himself in an oversized chair. A filly glared daggers at him. He responded with the same flat look.
"It seems as if he is not well-liked amongst his peers." She mused. "Well, that's something to contemplate later."
Once introductions were made, she settled herself into the largest of the chairs, a couch, really.
"I am so happy all of you came to see me." She was more than happy. She was ecstatic! Her duties often made life so dull for her. All the meetings, court appearances, and delegations to greet and entertain, it made times like these all the more precious to her.
One filly, Fancy Breeze, raised her hand.
"Yes, my little pony?"
"What's it like being the Princess?" She asked sweetly. Celestia could only smile.
"It is hard work. I will not deceive you. Some days can be so busy, that I sometimes find myself in my room before I realize it. But it also offers up the most rewarding gifts. My time with you all in this case." A very chaste and censored answer to a more adult topic. They didn't need to know the grueling hours spent bent over a desk signing document after document in the wee hours of the evening.
After that, a flood of questions broke forth, and it was all she could do to keep ahead of them, giggling along the way.
Everypony had a question to ask, even Mrs. Greenfield. Everypony, save for Orion Falls.
Instead, opting to watch. Simply observing as she answered what questions she could, deflecting those she must. Those gray eyes, almost steel-like in quality. Twilight's observations had been correct. This was a pony not looking for fun.
Eventually, she raised her hands against further queries. They had only so much time, after all. It was time for Miss Write to take them on their tour, thus bringing her period with them to a close.
As her secretary began to escort them out, excitedly commenting on what they were all about to see, Celestia raised a hand in front of both Orion, and Mrs. Greenfield.
"A moment if you would?"
The bright orange mare blushed. "Of course, your Highness! W-what is it?"
"Oh, it's nothing of too much importance. I was just wondering if I might borrow a moment of Orion's time. If that's not too much trouble." The named colt's eyes tightened, and a worried frown tugged at his lips.
"But…of course! But if you would forgive me, won't he miss out on the tour?"
"He may miss out on a few things, but I wanted to have a few moments to speak with him, and what better time than now. It saves the taxpayers a bit by me not having to send a carriage for him. Do not fret, Mrs. Greenfield. I will have him back to you in no time." She understood the mare's worry, and she wanted him to get the whole experience of the castle with the rest of his class. But if all goes well, he will be getting his fill, more than most foals his age would ever dream.
"Well, okay, Princess." She turned to her student. "Orion, be respectful." She admonished with a finger. Now that was an odd comment. Turning back to her, she bowed low and slipped out the door.
She left him there. Just fucking left him there! Sure it's with the Princess, but the lady didn't even put up an argument.
The white monarch turned to him and gestured toward the seats without a word.
"Oh. Haha….I'm in danger."
With little choice, he drifted to the smaller of the two chairs and sat down. His mind raced with what might be coming. Staring at his hands, he didn't look up as the country's sole ruler sat before him.
The ticking of the clock was loud in his ears. Celestia looked at him, and he kept his eyes firmly glued to his hands, wishing he would be able to stop twisting them in nervous energy.
"You are certainly not much of a conversationalist. " Her sudden soft tones nearly made him leap out of his own skin. His eyes shot up to hers. "Well, there you are. I was beginning to believe your fingers were more interesting than me." She giggled. "I can't remember the last time somepony had put that much effort in trying to ignore my presence."
Orion licked his lips. They were rather dry.
"Uh…what…what do you want? Uh, your Highness." He felt like there was a gun to his temple again.
"Oh my dear, Orion. There is no reason to fret. You are most definitely not in trouble." The pressure of the phantom firearm did not lessen. "You know, my student talks of you a great deal. I wanted to meet the pony Twilight has become rather enamored within recent months. I can honestly say this is the first time since I've known her that she has shown any interest in anything outside of a dusty old tome or a particularly challenging spell." She paused, waiting expectantly for a response.
He was here because of Twilight? "Oh, Jesus Christ…" Heart rate slowing, he did his best to wipe the panic look off his face.
"I…uh." How does someone respond to someone like her? Since she walked in, it felt like his heart, and his head had been steadily being squeezed. He licked his lips again.
"Are you alright?" When had she moved? She was kneeling before him now, and he still had to crane his neck up to look at her. A warm hand was placed against his head. This was the most influential person in the country. Quite possibly the world, and she was acting like a concerned mother.
Now there's a scary-ass thought.
"I…" He sighed heavily. "Fuck it." Pushing her hand gently away, he struggled to put a smile on his face. "Honestly, it feels like my very being is in a vice. Has been since I walked into the door of the Courtroom."
Her mouth fell open in a perfect "Oh face", and then she giggled. Why the hell was she amused?!
"My, oh my. Two in such close proximity? And around the same age as well. That doesn't happen often."
"Uhhh, what?"
She poked him in the nose. "I suppose you wouldn't know much about that, not in your classes as of yet. But let me explain." She rose from in front of him and walked toward a window. Her posture was different now, commanding. "You, my little colt, are capable of sensing me. My magic to be more precise. The ability to judge a unicorn's magical potential is a rare gift. However, not as rare of an ability to perceive an Alicorn's. You are one of two that I know of in this generation, maybe three. Though I do not know what may have happened to her…" Celestia's mouth turned down into a frown.
He blinked at her. He could do what now? "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I can…sense you?"
"Indeed. Tell me, have you ever looked at another pony and knew almost instantly how powerful they were? Or could point out a pony without needing to actually see them?" She moved to sit in the larger chair across from him.
Orion's eyes drifted down to the floor. He was trying to think back to moments of meeting other unicorns for the first time. Had he felt them before? His mind drifted back to when he had been on the run from the law in Stalliongrad. There had been a couple of close calls. Moments where something made him stop before turning a corner, pulling himself just short of running into a patrol with actively searching unicorns in the group. Their horns glowed as they swept their heads back and forth.
"Holy shit." He breathed and heard a snort and splutter. He looked up to see her dabbing her lips with a napkin. Where did the tea tray come from? She was looking at him scandalously. "Wait. What did I say?" He groaned as he replayed the last two minutes in his head. "Sorry about that. My mouth often speaks before I can think." Lame excuse, but what could he do? Tell that he habitually swore at every opportunity? Fuck that.
She looked at him for a long moment, then grinned slyly.
"So, what you are saying is that your thoughts are filled with bad words?" His face scrunched up. Who in the hell was this woman? She snickered at him and took another sip of tea, and it hit him.
"You're a troll, aren't you?" He deadpanned.
"I'm afraid I truly don't know that reference. Explain?" This was an entirely different side to what she had displayed before with the others.
"It means you like to put people on the spot, boxing them into a corner where they have to embarrass themselves." She just gave him a very impish smile. She had dimples. "Of course you are. Well, if that's how it's gonna be…"
He eyed her carefully. On the one hand, if he spoke like he usually did, odds were in his favor that he might not get into that much trouble. It would certainly make it easier to put up with all this nonsense if he could.
On the other hand, he could get in a whole lot of trouble with school, Mrs. Evergarden, and Mrs. Greenfield as well, considering her close proximity. That innocent look she was now wearing picked his path for him.
"Ya damn right I do." She gaped at him and then busted out laughing.
"I did not…hehe…expect you to answer truthfully." She wiped tears from her eyes.
"What?"
"Oh, don't look so stunned. Orion, do you think I let just anypony be around my student for longer than passing without having them investigated?" He worked hard to close his jaw. "Not to mention that little incident with Miss Write. That's not something a normal foal would say in response to the offering of…candy."
This bitch had been playing him the entire time. Just how much did she know?
"Oh, don't glare so. It's not often I get to have such fun." A scroll appeared in her hands, and she unrolled it. "Let us see. You were found in Stalliongrad. An orphan. Your surprising occupation at the time was being a thief. Considering your lack of a herd, I can forgive that one. But evading their attempts to capture you for well over five months is rather impressive for one so young." She did that soft giggle again. "What is truly impressive to me is when you arrived in Manehattan. It was expected that you would struggle with your education. You did not." She fixed him with a suddenly unreadable look.
"Um, I have a great study ethic?" He said sheepishly, now wishing to sink into the seat and disappear.
"I am sure." She turned back to the scroll. "You surpassed all but one of your entry tests. History, which is understandable, but your flat refusal to use proper pony vernacular is a bit disturbing. I have heard your reasoning behind it, but I do not understand where that thought process has come from."
He only looked at her.
"I see you are going to be quiet on that one." She only smiled, then continued. "After a recent confrontation with a few fellow orphans, you were moved here. Formerly "White's Orphanarium," now "Mrs. Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals”." She put the scroll down. "Where you come to meet my faithful student, Twilight, on your very first day of school. In which you caught her interest with your strange ways." She folded her arms. "What are your intentions with my student?"
"Holy shit. I really am in danger! What the fuck?! This bitch knows damn near everything." His panic thoughts slowed. "Wait a minute. She doesn't care about my past. At least, not as much as she cares about what I plan to do with Twilight. Oh, lady…you may very well be the answer to my prayers."
He liked the purple menace well enough, but her constant stopping him in the halls of school to ask a question was getting a bit much. He was almost late to class twice because of her. Not to mention how she would just stare at him as if he was a bug she was trying to figure out, was very off-putting.
"You're the Princess, right? No one's authority exceeds your own, yes?" She nodded, confused. "And she is your student? Personal student?"
"Where are you going with this?" She asked finally.
"Let me answer your question with one of my own. Just how obsessive can Twilight get?" She just started laughing all over again.
"So, I take it you're not appreciating the constant attention then."
"Hell, no. I'm expecting her any day now to ask for a blood sample. Tell me. Does she have a bag with my fur follicles? Maybe some of my mane?" She is struggling to contain herself now. If she's laughing, it means he's off the hook, right?
"I can see your concern." She chuckled. "You must understand; she's never heard of a pony like you before."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, your omnivorous nature, Orion. She can't find a single case file, or history text, of anypony like you."
He gaped. Then frowned. She had been asking a lot of questions about his diet and instincts. He had to explain the concept of sushi to her on more than one occasion. He had never told her of his eating habits, at least not at first. Once it became apparent that she knew what his teeth meant, he swore her to secrecy under the condition he would answer her questions in return.
"Not to mention your mannerisms. Very marely, might I add?"
"What do you mean by that?" He was getting indignant now.
"Orion, from what I can see and read, you're not a naive colt. So let us not pretend otherwise. I'm sure you noticed the other males around you. How they conduct themselves around mares and fillies?"
He had noticed, in fact.
In Stalliongrad, it hadn't been as prevalent as all hands were needed to work. There never seemed to be enough people. But in Equestria, stallions always seemed to take a back seat in almost everything that was a significant decision or considered too dangerous. Even Steady, while more outspoken, always submitted to the will of his wives. Doing the cooking, the clothes washing. Everything.
It was embarrassing, and it irked him. He supposed those women's rights movements he had made endless fun of may have had a point, a small one. Day after day was a constant reminder that one day those mares who find him adorable and funny now may demand his submission later.
He shoved those thoughts away and glared at the monarch instead. All semblance of a foal's innocence was gone.
"Are you going to get to the point of all this goading? It's clear to anyone that you want something. Spit it out." He spat.
Celestia set down her tea and stared back at him just as hard, a dangerous gleam in her eye. "First, I will not tolerate rudeness. Do we understand?"
It was turning out to be the soap incident all over again.
"Knock yourself out, lady. I'm not gonna let you push me around. I don't give a shit who you are. The creator itself. Don't give a fuck. What. Do. You. Want?" Somewhere in his mind, a siren wailed its shrill warning.
She did not know what to do. Well, she did. She wanted to wash Orion’s mouth out with soap. She wanted to box his ears. She wanted to spank him till he cried.
It had been centuries since anypony had the gall to speak to her in such a way!
Yet, she knew his history. Her agents had returned from their investigations in both of the previous cities he had inhabited with strange tales of a colt who had made it routine to challenge the expected norms.
None of her "wants" would amount to much other than him digging in his hooves at the first shove just as he was now.
She composed herself, years of self-conditioning hiding the fact that he had managed to rattle her. The fact that it was an effort made it clear that she had grown unaccustomed to challenge.
As she centered, she began to reevaluate what she knew of him.
Orion was a colt who did not take kindly to authority figures. However large or small, his conflicts with teachers pointed to the personal ideology that they could not be trusted.
"He expects the worst. He expects me to attempt to overwhelm him." She suppressed a smile.
"I am sorry, my little pony." Those hard eyes blinked. Uncertainty cracking his gaze. "When you spend a couple of thousand years manipulating everypony around you for their own good, you may develop a...habit."
"But you still want something." He was not to be deterred, but his tone had moderated itself to something a little more civil.
"I do." She sighed and laced her fingers together. "I am sure you are aware, but Twilight is a rather unusual filly."
"She's a freak of nature, is what she is. She's as powerful as one of the adults in school. Hell, now that I think about it, she outclasses a fair few." He frowned in thought.
"Very good. He is remembering past encounters with Magic Perception and already realizes just how extraordinary she truly is. What you could accomplish if you were not a cripple." She mused sadly.
Like he and her student, she could sense strengths amongst her ponies. But he did not need to be made aware of that fact. Still, what she could feel made her heart ache for the colt, his attachment to magic was pitifully weak as if somepony had given him a thimble instead of the buckets his peers had been gifted with.
Celestia had not lied when she told Twilight that nothing was to be done. She knew of no possible way a pony could be "altered" in a way that could improve their ability.
"Yes, she is particularly powerful. And wholly devoted to study." Maybe she should ask Professor Coil. She might have an idea that may help him.
"Yeah, she is. I've never seen anyone read through six books simultaneously." He shook his head, eyes wide for a moment before hardening again. "Still haven't gotten to the part that involves me, though."
"Patience. It is one of the virtues." She admonished him.
"Never heard of it." He snarked back. Sighing, she continued.
"Twilight has very few failings. She has excelled at nearly every task and assignment I have set before her. However, there is one that she does have that troubles me greatly." She paused.
Orion folded his arms and leaned back into his chair.
"She does not interact well with other foals her age. Even most adult ponies find it difficult to engage her in anything more than passing pleasantries. My desire is for you to grow closer to her-"
"Absolutely not. I want peace, not problems. And she's a barrel full of 'em."
She really shouldn't have been surprised at this point. But interruptions just did not happen to her.
"Orion-"
"Don't "Orion" me. When she's not asking me a billion questions, she's hammering me with references to some dude named Starswirl. The way she goes on, you'd think he was Jesus himself."
She ignored the strange name. Like him, she refused to be brought off course now.
"She has no pony to talk to other than myself, her parents, and on occasion her brother whenever he is on leave. She is alone, Orion. Her youngest brother is far too young yet to be more than an idle distraction who cannot speak her concerns to. You are the only pony I've ever seen hold her attention longer than an hour." She took on a pleading look. "Please, Orion."
For a long moment, he sat there, eyes on his hooves.
"She could lose interest in me eventually."
"She very well could. But the way she speaks of you, I rather doubt it." She smiled. "These are the formative years of her, and yours might I add, youth. I recognize my selfishness in this request to help her, but up to now, no pony I have found or seen has captured her attention quite like you."
"You make it sound like you're planning to marry us." He scandalously replied.
"By the Tree, no!" She giggled. "This is in no attempt to slander you, my little pony, but her partner will be more…well.." she shrugged her shoulders, finding herself faltering under the return of his withering glare. Celestia supposed she deserved that.
"Yeah. I get it. I'm a cripple." Rubbing his face, he finally relented. "Fine, but I get to speak how I want to. None of this bowing and scraping I see folks doing for her. Just cause she's your student means jack to me." He paused and eyed her, a shrewd look replacing the exasperated one. "In fact, outside of official functions and public audiences, I don't wanna do that shit with you either."
She arched an eyebrow. "Do you not believe you might be reaching there, colt?"
"Maybe, but you-"
"I am Princess Celestia. Ruler of Equestria." She reminded him. "I cannot have one little foal have free run to do as he pleases."
"Fine, fuck it. You win." He frowned. "I can't get anything out of this, can I?" She wanted to admonish him on his choice of expression, but something she had learned over the centuries and millennia was if you drew more attention to a foal acting out, the more they would do so. He was intelligent, that was true, but his language was just a way for him to act out.
"Nonsense, you're getting the friendship of my student. That's more than enough for anypony." She stood, and he followed suit. "Now, let's have Sergeant Bell escort you to the rest of your class. If I were you, I'd make an effort to memorize the halls. I have a feeling you will be coming back here often."
Summer had come upon him before he knew it. With the arrangement with Celestia, Twilight now occupied most of the evenings during the week. They mostly spent the time comparing notes, which was actually helpful for him as much of her knowledge pieced together what he had been missing in his understanding.
Outside of studies, they rarely talked of anything else other than his bitching about Cottonfuck, or her interest in the new quills that were being released, or that long-dead mummy of a stallion named Starswirl the Bearded. He was seriously confused by her obsession with the guy.
Screaming had grown obviously jealous of Orion and Twilight's time together and had done her best to muscle into their study.
For about a week.
The poor griffiness ended up falling asleep halfway through, sometimes sooner. After that, she had given up on that line of attack and ended up joining him in the gym instead, which was both to the good and his embarrassment. She could easily handle his regimen and go beyond.
That pissed him off and forced him to double his efforts, which resulted in the first week she joined with him being pure agony.
But things were decent, and he was happy. For the first time in a while, he was content.
Lately, however, he hadn't seen a lot of either one. At the end of the school year, Twilight ended up going with her family on various vacations to one of the many islands that were around the nation. They still got together occasionally, and she would bring a souvenir with her when she did. He was most certainly not going to wear the fucking kilt she had bought for him.
Screaming had been kept busy by something, of what she would not say, but she had a pensive look in her eyes whenever she looked at him. It looked like reluctance. He wondered what was bothering her so much.
With summer also came the easing of studies. His magic was improving but nowhere near where it should be. But he had decided that he would not study himself to death. He needed a break.
His time eating meat for protein and hitting the gym had actually hit an all-time high, and it showed on his now nine-year-old frame.
Though in his opinion, he looked like a muscle midget.
Still, he was proud of what he was accomplishing and wished he had the drive to do it back in his past life.
He had wanted to explore the city with the idle time he had to spare, but a certain Directress had stated in no uncertain terms that he was not about to be let out to wander till he was at least twelve. To school, gym, and home were his only allowance outside of planned trips with the foals. It rankled, but there were rules. That didn't stop him from sneaking out at night. The sewer covers were surprisingly easy to move and didn't emit the stink one would expect from a major city.
Orion avoided the crazies in the dark. He was not some dumbass brat who would accept free candy from a stranger.
In regards to rule-breaking and those who make the rules, something very odd happened with Mrs. Evergarden.
She and her new assistant, Sanguine Spirit, had vanished during the month of April. The more he thought about it, the weirder it got. Because some of the older fillies he had seen in the area had also disappeared. He and his fellow colts had been restricted to the orphanage.
This same phenomenon had also happened when he was living in Manehattan with Miss Dreams and Sapphire.
In place of the Directress, was an earth pony stallion simply named Chip. Nice guy if a bit of a pervert. He was always mumbling about a smell, and once Orion had overheard him in a closet. He wished he could bleach his ears.
In May, they had returned, looking a little haggard, but nothing was ever said. He knew there was something about it, something he should remember, but he'd be damn if he knew what, though.
Late one afternoon, Orion wobbled home from a particularly hard session at the gym. Pilate, no second name given though it was well known that she was Will's daughter, had decided to see how far he had come.
Despite the owner's name, she was in charge. Her father had only put up the money, and she honored him by naming the gym after him. Of course, her clientele was mostly mares, but she had classes for stallions with aerobics involved. He had never seen so many stallions just stand around and gossip around one another in his life.
They even wore leotards with leggings. The only question rolling through his mind was how the hell did they make the stretchy material without modern technology.
He stuck to shorts and a loose t-shirt. His first day had been to run into the tyrant of the gym. She had outright laughed at his desired goals. And when he had struggled at the beginning, she had only grinned, thinking she had been proven right.
But he stuck with it and was soon keeping up with many of the mares on the treadmills.
Since then, she had taken to coaching him every now and then. Mainly when he was using a particular weight incorrectly or if she felt he was going too far for his body. Worse, she was now talking about her daughter, Gymna, a filly a good two years older than him.
He had hit her with a ten-pound disc. That had shut her up but didn't stop that grin.
Today she pushed him. Hard.
He felt like he was made of rubber. Judging by how his legs shook occasionally, he wasn't sure how untrue that actually was. Getting to the orphanage's stoop, he half stumbled into the foyer and right into a large pair of dark brown wings.
He reeled back, sputtering out loose feathers that had gotten caught in his mouth.
"Ahhhgg, what the hell!? Who ordered the giant feather duster?" He coughed, which made his knees shake. "Don't quit on me now!"
The “Feather Duster” turned to glare at him. An adult griffon. Orion racked his brain for the term they called their males.
"Drake?"
He looked like a bald eagle. Beak only showed a bit of age, with the end having a bit of looking a little pale. It was tough to get an age on these folks.
Behind him was what looked like a falcon. Much closer to Screaming's features. She too looked to be older. The term hen came to mind much more quickly.
Speaking of Screaming Rush, the young griffon stood between the two, a bag on the floor between her paws. Tears in her eyes.
"What the fucky?"
"If this is…a birdnapping? Is that the right word? If this is a birdnapping, your doing a terrible job of it. It's the middle of the day, for fucks sake." He said tiredly but had already inched a hoof toward the door, prepping his voice to shout.
His legs were barely under him, but he was sure he could get someone's attention if he screamed loud enough.
Both adults gasped aloud, feathers poofing. "Okay, now that's funny."
Screaming laughed through her tears.
"No, Orion. No. I'm…. I'm being adopted today. They are…here to take me to Griffonia." Her voice was steady, but her face could have done some shoring up. The beak was turning down into a sad frown.
"How did those things do that?"
He had read up on griffon biology a few months back with no conclusion. He suspected the same thing was involved when it came to pegasi wings bending in flight.
That cover-all bullshit thing known as magic.
"Wait…. adoption?" He blinked in surprise, then smiled.
"Well, that's great news! You've been here forever. It's about time you found a home. It is a bit of a shame, though. Without you here, who's going to keep Storming in check?" He chuckled.
She did not.
"Awwwww shit. Those are not happy tears, nor is that a happy face. Fuck I'm a dumbass."
"Screaming, who is this chick? Do you know him?" The falcon spoke up. She had pretty blue mascara around her green flecked golden eyes. Those eyes were examining him from head to toe.
"This is….this is Orion Falls. You know, the colt I was hoping to see before we left. He...he's the one who eats meat like us." Her voice hitched and made him wince. He thought she would take to being adopted better than this.
"Preposterous!" Captain America clucked out. "No pony can eat meat. Their biology simply cannot handle it." A sneer took over his beak, being directed at him.
Orion merely grinned at the Symbol of Freedom, the sharp points of his teeth flashing in the low afternoon light.
Amber Waves of Grain stopped sneering.
"Asshole."
"No! He can! He used to eat with me all the time." She sniffled. "He's why there is a meat fridge in the kitchen now." She turned to him, the tears were coming faster and fatter too. Crap. But he couldn't help but notice that she was only mentioning the meat-eating thing. Why?
"Looks….looks like I won't be able to try and get you to hang out with me anymore…."
Oh. That's why. Orion had to stop the dam before it broke! He was not good with these sappy situations.
"Hey hey hey hey…..you can, ya know, always write to me? I'm not going anywhere I promise. Not like anyone wants to adopt this asshole anyway," he gestured to himself, "so I'll still be here for years to come. Unless I REALLY fuck it up." He smiled.
"Please, dear God don't start crying."
Her tears did stop. "R-r-really? You'll….write me back too?"
"Yeah. Sure, you may get a: "Sorry I can't hang out with you today" letter back. But I will write to you." His mind was screaming at him not to make that promise, but he figured what could it harm to make a promise like that? How much could she actually write?
She laughed delightedly and hugged him.
He did not consent to this. Hugs were a commodity, one he was loathed to deal out no more than a few at a time mostly because he had never liked to be touched too much.
This griffon, this hen in the making, she stole a hug. Hug stealer!
He hugged her back, and they said their goodbyes, with him reaffirming that he would indeed return her letters with his own. They separated, and all too soon, Screaming was gone. Taking flight with the two adults that had whisked her away. Sometimes he wished he had come to this world with wings instead of the silly bone on his forehead.
A hand settled on his shoulder, almost making him jump. Mrs. Evergarden had been there, but he had barely registered her presence at the time and had somehow snuck up on him like a cat. He hated that.
"That was a very nice thing you did, Orion. She was so upset that she might never have gotten to see you again."
"Eh, how much time will she have to write?" He wished he had knocked on wood.
A week later, he had gotten no less than six letters from her. She had apparently started writing the moment she had gotten on the train heading north.
The only good thing that came from all of that is her handwriting would eventually get better because it looked like she had been using her mouth to write at the beginning. That would have been a silly sight.
His summer, however, was just beginning. A chance for revenge against a pony. He just wished it hadn't come with a reminder of how similarly ugly this world was to his past one.
Author's Note
Surprise Tuesday posting.
This is a one-time change in the program. I wanted to test out a new application I got called Grammarly. A web app that is linked with my browser to help edit my writing in real-time. It's supposed to help me with sentence structure, and of course, grammar.
I have done this without my editors' help, not to dismiss them because they still help in getting my point across when writing, but to push the extent of what this program can do.
As usual, this is the part where I ask you all to leave a comment. I want you to tell me what you see differently from the last chapter to this one.
Once again, thank you for reading. And being my guinea pigs mwhahahaha.
See you between the pages. Peace!
Author's Note
Good Morning!
At least for some of you. I hope this Sunday finds you well. Today's chapter submission is a fair bit more technically heavy then some of the others have been, so I am hoping I didn't botch it up too badly.
Some important announcements that I have already blogged about, but not everyone sees that.
First off the bat. Orion has an Official reference sheet.
Its all very exciting.
Secondly, I have a Kofi. It is where all announcements will be made as I am going to be publishing these chapters to other sites next week. FimFiction will still get priority as I am loyal to this site for giving me the chance to learn and grow as a writer.
The commissions I get, will be hosted on Kofi. Just easier that way. They will not be hidden behind a paywall. I will be working on tips only and only for specific goals involving the story. The reason for this, is my hours have been reduced so I will be having trouble commissioning artists to create the scenes I have written on paper, a little help is appreciated if ya got a couple bucks to spare.
Okay went on for far too long, and I know you all are eager to get to the story, for those who haven't just skipped this.
Thanks for reading, leave a comment.
Peace!
Kofi
My Twitter if anyone would like to add me
Discoveries
"You stab me like that again, buddy boy, and that needle will become a permanent fixture inside you." Orion hissed out. The nurse's face paled. He would never understand how their fur, his own as well, could change color like that.
He hated needles. It's why he never did heroin. Hated hospitals, for that matter, as well. Everything just felt so dead despite the cheery colors they attempted to mask the halls of death with, it frightened him as a kid. Thank God he was not in the latter. Instead, the doctors had magically come to him.
They came to the school for a physical that wasn’t supposed to happen for another two years.
The first week of school had passed with the blur that most first weeks often do. But on Friday, it was announced that medical professionals would do a physical exam on Monday. Rumors of several people, mostly the young, getting sick had been at the top of the gossip charts he had heard in the lunchroom, so he supposed it was a good enough reason for the early check-up.
So here he sat in a very unflattering pair of underwear, practically a loincloth as this world's tailors had no idea what boxers were, with a nurse who couldn't find a vein to save his life. The earth pony's hands had fumbled that syringe more than once, and he bore the holes to prove it.
"Of course, I'd net the newbie." He sighed as the stallion jerked away from his glare once again. He likely wasn't helping the poor bastard's nerves any.
"Alright!" Chimed in an all too cheery voice. In stepped a unicorn stallion. Tan fur and brown maned, he wore scrubs under a lab coat, and a stethoscope draped around his neck. "Good morning Mr. Falls, I am Doctor Horse, and I will be your examiner for the day! What's wrong?"
It was too much.
The attitude. The name. The voice! Orion's cheeks bulged as he clenched his teeth and desperately tried not to drum his hooves against the chair's legs that he sat in. Squeezing his eyes closed, he shook his head back and forth rapidly as he fought the mirth bubbling in his throat. It sounded like he was strangling.
Suddenly his shoulders were seized by a pair of surprisingly strong hands, and he looked into the concerned blue eyes of Dr. Horse.
"Are you okay, young colt?!" The blue glow of his magic forced Orion's jaws open, and the poor physician was pelted in the face by his laughter. He fell out of the chair.
"Are you sure you won't tell me what is so funny?"
Once he had recovered and settled into the chair again, still stifling some chuckles here and there, he did his best to deflect the good doctor's questions. He was being as gentle as he could. Mr. Ed would be proud of the representation.
The stallion would not have understood, and telling would have given away secrets of the past best left buried.
"But dear God, it’s funny as hell!"
"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it if I explained, and I'm not sure I could. Let's just leave it as a Marussia thing." He giggled. "Let's just get on with this. I got class to get to."
It was about the only thing he could get to. When he got back to the orphanage, he was back on lockdown.
For the next month and a half, he was to be grounded. Luckily, he was confined to his room and the library on the fourth floor. He supposed it was fair. It was his due, he figured. Between getting involved with Bright and that asshole, Mr. Cottonridge, and what Celestia had told Mrs. Evergarden about what he said and did in the hall of that guard station, it was the only outcome to be expected.
She had demanded to know what he was thinking, and the lizard brain defense was not working with her. Marshmallow Tits didn't even try to defend him; she just watched him with a calculated eye. Why had she felt the need to come to the orphanage to relay that personally?
Well, it wasn't all bad. Except maybe Pilate was even more pissed at him than usual. He wasn't allowed back at the gym till his time in the kiddie timeout was over as well. She promised him that she would work him till he wept; honestly, he believed it.
It was all a mess, but at least he wouldn't have to put up with Twilight's twice-weekly visits. Instead, he got letters. Lots of letters.
Twilight had moved up to the advanced classes, putting her on a different lunch schedule, which suited him just fine. The usual gambit of jackasses who tried to make life difficult for him seemed to have thinned with her absence. Apparently, being friends with the Princess's favorite is frowned upon.
All in all, some peace for a change, which he welcomed.
Though those letters were getting a little scary, promises of resumed studies brought a whole new level of fear to the word horror. Just what would be enjoyable about learning the reproductive practices of the Chakla Tribe? Why was that a subject in which she wanted to discuss with him?
"I suppose so. Okay, Mr. Falls, we shall start with a proper blood draw as I see my assistant was unable to get one from you before my arrival." He chided the earth pony gently, who only blushed more in embarrassment.
The stallion did everything with magic, from taking his blood to listening to his heart. The only time he touched him was when he was feeling places on his body.
"Am I gonna have to turn my head and cough for you, doc?" He asked with a grin on his face.
"What would that do?" Asked Horse in puzzlement.
"Oh right, there was no such thing as cancer here." It had been a surprise when he began making comparisons between this world and his former one. Many things were the same, a large amount that seemed pun-driven more than anything else, but cancer was not one of them.
"Nevermind. So what's next?"
"Let's see…." the good doctor perused through his notes briefly, his eyebrows arching up. "Ah yes. A thaumometer reading…"
There was a hint of puzzlement in his voice, and Orion's hackles rose. From the tone, this wasn't a standard procedure for a physical exam.
"I had one of those when I arrived in Manehattan. As understood it and was told you only get it twice. Once at birth and another before entering secondary school. I'm a few years away from my second examination, I would think."
That had been what he had been told, at least.
Usually, every foal, earth, pegasus, or unicorn all got the first examination on the day of their birth. It was a procedure meant to assure their alignment with the magical forces of the world was secure. Only unicorns got a second examination in secondary school to determine their strength and aptitude.
That test was the one he was dreading the most.
"Says here it's because of your status as an...orphan." The brown-manned physician gave him a pained look. "I am so sorry." Dr. Horse frowned sadly.
"Ah, don't worry about that. It doesn't bother me nearly as much as everyone thinks it does. I could honestly care less about it at this point." He waved his hand in disinterest. Perhaps he should make cards to hand out whenever this topic popped up, spare him having to repeat himself at least. "But what does being an orphan have anything to do with it?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure. I suppose it could be because you have been transferred about too many times since you were found in… Stalliongrad, Marussia?" His eyebrows were certainly getting an exercise. "My, my, you have come a long way, haven’t you? That explains the accent, I suppose."
"Accent? I was in Stalliongrad for about a year. How the hell do I still have a freakin’ accent?!"
The sound of squeaky wheels pulled him from his thoughts. Pushed by a Royal Guard no less, what rolled in was an old monstrosity made of stained wood, metal, and spit.
The presence of the Guard was enough for him to lay heavy suspicion on Celestia. But the "thaumometer" was another thing altogether.
His testing back in Manehattan had been a tiny unit wrapped in metal and clean. This thing had been dredged up from an archive somewhere and dusted off. Much of the paneling's stain was peeling up in places.
There was no evidence of wires, which was expected as pony society had never developed basic wiring and lighting. Instead, they manufacture crystals in batches and infuse them with the same resonance in order for them to work together.
Say you wanted to turn on a light, place your hand on a panel with a crystal inside, and it activates the hall light to illuminate—very cool and efficient stuff.
The unit was taller than him by more than a foot, paneled in unadorned wood that looked to have initially been stained dark, now bleached in areas where it might have sat in the sun. The old-timey knobs were still there. One looked new and out of place, and the original screen had been replaced with something a bit more modern though it looked like one of those dial machines, all hastily assembled with all the scratches around where it was installed.
There was more than meets the eye here, and he did not expect the ancient machine to transform and roll out.
"Okay. So bare with me a little bit Mr. Falls. I haven't worked on one of the old models since my graduate courses. We should be done in no time." Despite his words, Dr. Horse did not look confident as he fiddled with the knobs, charging the machine with magic.
As they moved the device in position, Orion noticed two things; first and foremost, there was far more than the one Royal Guard in the room with him. Out in the hall stood at least three others. Secondly, on the back of the thaumometer was a crystal clear ball filled with some type of black and red liquid that sloshed sluggishly as the device was jerked about.
Weighing his options, he wondered if he shouldn't try to escape, whatever the hell this was. Too many oddities were making his lizard brain go into overdrive, screaming warning sounds like the Enterprise.
The examination was taking place on the third floor of the auxiliary building behind the main hall. A white stone wall ran the entire height of the building behind. Not a chance in hell he was scaling that at his current age and ability. This, whatever it was, had been well thought out.
"Okay, we are ready! Mr. Falls, if you would take hold of the handles and embrace your magic, we will begin the testing."
He reached out and took hold of the little wooden and crystal handles with a sigh, the crystal portion securely against his palms. They felt surprisingly warm. He heard the creak of metal and the rustle of cloth as the Guards seemed to ready themselves. He wondered if he could lie his way out of this if something went very wrong.
Did Celestia suspect he wasn't a pony?
His horn lit up, and the machine began to hum. Well, rattle. One minute went by, then two, three. After ten minutes, Dr. Horse nodded and shut it all down. Taking back the handles, he nodded with a smile of relief judging by the expression.
"Annnd that is it. You may get dressed now, and thank you for your patience. I don't know where they got this old-timer, but I will be sure to bring mine the next time for the entry exams in a few years." He smiled pleasantly.
The good doctor may have been relieved, but the Guard in the room just stood there, confused as hell. She had been hefting a giant hammer of all things before the end. Now she stood, tapping at the ball on the back of the machine with a thick finger, a frown twisting her face.
Dressing quickly, he gave his goodbyes and slipped out the door and through more than twenty members of the Royal Guard. "What in the hell!?" Big mares, welding big weapons and watching him with suspicion. As he got to the end of the hall before the stairs, he gave a smirking grin, likely not wise, to the last mare in the line.
Silver Bell gave him a rueful grimace and slowly put away her two-handed sword. They did not like each other.
They had not gotten along during their first meeting as she guided him through the halls, searching for his class. Insults were made, and feelings were hurt. She didn't like how casual he treated Celestia and made it known by shouting shortly after leaving the monarch behind. Orion had responded in a less than acceptable manner.
He sauntered past without a word, though. Smiling was one thing. He would not provoke her further by commenting. As he skipped down the stairs, he couldn't help but wonder what bullet he had seemingly dodged and why it had been aimed at him to begin with. But he definitely knew the source.
Wiggling in her seat inside the carriage, Twilight barely contained a squeal of glee as she looked over at the other occupant.
Orion had finally accepted her invitation. She had asked often enough, but he always made excuses such as the castle being intimidating or he was too busy with his after-school activities. The latter, she had found out, was more than true.
It was coming close to winter now. The trees had been cleared a week earlier, and all that was left were for the pegasi to finish prepping the clouds for a healthy snowfall on the first of December.
Looking from the sky back to her fellow student of learning, her smile slackened as she noticed his less than enthusiastic expression.
Orion sat there with a frown, staring at the couch across from him. He seemed to be still nervous.
"Orion?" His head jerked up in startlement. "It's okay! You'll love the castle library! There is so much knowledge there. I'm sure you can find something there that'll help your...um...issue." She finished sheepishly.
He looked at her in confusion before laughing and shaking his head.
"I hope to, but I'm not really bothered about that, Twilly Billy. More concerned about that mentor of yours."
She hated when he mixed her name up like that, but her concern was suddenly for the latter. What could he possibly mean by that?
For whatever reason, Princess Celestia scared him or at least worried him. She couldn't understand why his refusal to take her at her word about her Teacher and her kindness and patience actually upset her.
"She is supposed to be busy with a few meetings with Ambassador Stone and others. You don't need to worry. Princess Celestia is an amazing ruler, and she is kind. I don't understand why you don't like her." She grumbled that last, only to receive a stern look from him.
He truly seemed not to like her.
Suddenly the carriage came to a jerking stop, and the door popped open. Silver Bell stood on the other side with her hand on the handle. The smile on her face quickly morphed into one of cold fury as her gaze fell on Orion.
"Hello to you too, Frosty. Thank you for getting the door." The instant amusement was plain in his voice, though she had no idea why. What had happened between the two of them?
She had overheard the Guardsmare speaking rather poorly with her fellow guards about him. It was rude to just up and ask after eavesdropping, accidental or not. Twilight had asked him instead when she had finally been allowed to visit him once more, and he had rebuffed her solidly.
"What are you doing here?" It was not a shout. But she winced all the same at the heat in her voice.
He just smiled blithely.
"Two mutual acquaintances of ours. One insistent," he stabbed a thumb in her direction as he slid out of the cab, " the other likes to send very pointed letters." He pointed a finger toward the castle. "Between the pair, I could hardly say no. If you think you can argue against them and win, by all means. But I think ice in a desert has a better chance of lasting than you."
Twilight's ears flattened against her mane. He had pretty much given voice to a worrying fear. He had been pressured into coming and did not really wish to be here. That…hurt.
"Thank you, Guardsmare Bell." She said as she slid out. She did her best to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
The mutual acquaintances part had stung.
"You're welcome, Lady Sparkle. I was instructed to inform you the Library's first three floors are open to you and your...study companion. If you need anything, a Calling Stone has been provided. I am to escort you there and stand by the door." Silver Bell spoke resignedly.
Nothing else was said as the trio headed inside, the Guardsmare leading.
Shame. Not a feeling Orion often felt till he started living in happy horse world. But as they walked through what he no doubt would usually be awe-inspiring vaulted castle halls, he couldn't really notice them.
Twilight's head was down, and so were her ears.
"That….that was really stupid, you jackass." He berated himself in a whisper.
Truth be told, that wasn't what he meant to say, but he was so pissed at seeing Silver Bell that he said the first thing that came to mind. Why, of all the guards in this den of abused power, had she been chosen for the role of babysitter. It was bad enough the mare seemed to be wherever Celestia was. But couple that with several times he had spotted her at school, once on the street heading home, all the while giving him the death glare from the grave, and he was at his wit's end about it. It was seriously freaking him out.
All because he was a bit rude to the ruling monarch.
He nudged Twilight.
She jerked and looked at him, hurt evident in her eyes. Shooting a look at their escort, he weighed his choices.
"Fuck it."
"Sorry, Squiggles. You are my friend. I'm just so annoyed at seeing Iron-rod-up-my-ass First Class here that I said something hurtful that wasn't true."
The Guardsmare's back quivered.
"It's okay," she said morosely, "but I understand you did not really want to come."
He sighed heavily.
"No, I suppose I should be honest. I didn't. No offense, little lady, but as I have said, I don't like your mentor. She's rude and scares the hell out of me."
Twilight's eyes grew wide. "Wh….what?"
So he told her. Told her how Celestia had pulled him aside and all but applied Royal pressure on him to be more engaging with her. He said how he felt about her and that, in a way, he did actually like being around her. But he wished she'd chill out with the Starswirl sperging.
He also spoke about his encounter with Silver Bell and all the times he spotted her hovering about. By the time they got to the Great Library, Twilight was smiling and doing her best not to laugh. Chiding him that he wasn't being nice but with little success considering her humor. She also admitted that her obsession with the long-dead stallion might just be a bit too much. It amazed him how quickly the young could bounce back from heartbreak.
Silver Bell was, surprisingly, looking crushed. He had expected fury. Instead, the mare looked defeated.
"Aw shit, this guilt bullshit sucks." He may have been going a little too hard with the insults. He mentally threw up his hands in resignation.
"Hey Twiggle, gimme a minute, would ya?" He shooed her toward the door.
"Are you sure?" She looked between the pair of them, worry more than plain on her face.
"Yeah, I am. Go on. I won't be long, I promise. There will be no bloodshed. I'm sure you want to find a dozen or so books you think I need to look at anyways. Get 'em together. I'll be just a minute."
"Okay!" She said brightly and hustled into the Library proper.
He looked around the hall for the first time and noticed that he was standing in a multi-leveled indoor courtyard. No plants were in evidence, of course, but there was plenty of polished marble and statues of various styles and designs.
A glance above showed at least two more levels, square with small balconies standing out from the rails.
Turning back to the Guardsmare, he noted that some heat had returned to her eyes.
"Why the hell are you so angry with me?"
She started. "What?"
"I said, "why are you so angry with me?" I don't get why this has carried on so long. So why?" He took a step back. He didn't want to crane his neck just to look at her. Bitch was tall, after all.
For a long moment, she didn't say anything. Her eyes had drifted above as if searching for an answer. Finally, she looked at him. The smolder now only barely an ember.
"You showed complete disrespect to the Princess when she went out of her way to invite you in, discussed helping Twilight, and argued with her as if...as if she...were somehow a…common merchant!" She began. "You demanded leeway to treat her how you would. Thank Faust ye did not get yur way ‘nterily."
He just gave her a look. “What in the hell was that ?” Her sudden speech change caught him momentarily off guard till he shook his head and got back on track.
"Let me paint you a picture. If you were suddenly pulled aside and someone demanded you be friends with someone simply for that person's sake rather than your own. Thus interrupting your life and forcing you on a path you did not want…well, how would you regard it?"
"That is not what happened!" She hissed.
"Essentially, that is exactly what happened. If anyone else in the world had done what Celestia had done or tried to do, I am positive there would be a law or two that she just shattered." Her eyes bulged. "Think about it."
Surprise, surprise, she did or at least seemed to, judging by how her face contorted.
"I can...see where you are coming from… But the Princess just wants what's best for Twilight." She had relaxed a little. Before, her back had been ramrod straight. Now she had a knee bent, a hand behind a belt, gesturing with the other.
"So that gives her absolute rights to enforce her will and desires on others? To uproot the whole of their lives and goals for her own designs? Under that metric, I could have gone and murdered White for his money for the orphanage. It certainly would have saved Mrs. Evergarden pain and anguish in trying to figure out where to get money from." He snorted. "The simple fact is that her reasoning, while compassionate, put me out. What makes me so special that she has to go out of her way to ask me to be buddies with Twilight but also pull out an archaic thaumometer that likely hasn't seen use in hundreds of years?"
The mare's eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step back.
"Who told you that?!"
"Who told me that?" He mocked back. "Lady, I'm not blind, and I can read. There had to have been two dozen of you guys outside that examination room. Not to mention no one else was being examined on that floor—just me. I can do the math. Celestia had suspicions about me, of what I have no idea. Enough to put a contingent of troops in place to apprehend or kill me if her suspicions are proven true."
After that event, he had gone down to the school's library and had found that very thaumometer in a book on the history of devices made for use by the nation to measure power and ability. The model he could best compare to was over six hundred years old. It was a miracle the damn thing even worked at all.
However, the chapter did not have a section detailing what the globe filled with black and red liquid was supposed to be. It was clear that the Princess was looking for something within him that wasn’t there. But what?
He took a step back. He had not realized he was essentially chasing the Guardsmare, who had been backing away from him. Her face had a hunted cast, narrowed eyes, and a worried frown.
"Sorry. We got off-topic, and that wasn't a subject for you. Listen, I treat everyone equally. Everyone. I don't give a flying fuck on a rolling donut whether they have a title in front of their name or if they are some muckraker in the middle of nowhere, they all get the same treatment. It's not an attack on the Princess, but neither is it a green light for her actions. You all see her as an entity that can do no wrong, but I did not grow up with her. And I am prone to distrust those in authority. Do you understand where I am going with this?"
He really hoped she did, he was not about to wake up one night a year from now with her sword at his neck because she can't rationalize why he didn't like the supposed Avatar of The Sun.
"...yes...I think I do." She frowned and looked down at him. "It's out of your distrust of anypony with power that you hold her in the regard that you do." A little upturn of her lips made him blink. "Considering the nobles often come and go from here, I suppose your view is not altogether incorrect." She laughed. "The Princess keeps telling me that if I ever stop and thought things through, my evaluation reviews wouldn't be so awfy."
Her accent had suddenly taken on a very Scottish tone. That had been what was so jarring earlier.
"No way...Scotts...mare?!" The idea of a horse that gets drunk and insults everyone around them made him chuckle.
"What you laffin' about now?" There it was again. It was as if something had relaxed in the mare, and the real her was peeking out.
"Nothing, just surprised by the real you, is all. I would have never guessed you were…" He trailed off, unsure of what precisely the Scottish version of a pony was called.
"The words ya be looking for is Isles Pony, and I am surprised ta learn ya know what I am. Where'd ya pick up that wee bit of knowledge?" She smirked. Her accent was thick now, though she could be forcing it a bit to be friendly, a welcome change in either case.
A ready lie quickly reached his lips.
"I lived in Manehattan for a couple of years, and the port there gets all kinds of visitors." He congratulated his brain for its swift thinking.
"Aye, that would do et." She frowned, and suddenly she squatted down to his level. "I'm awfy sorry. I forget meself and made a real big…mess of things." She had almost said arse, he was sure. "And 'm sorry. Shouldn't 'ave been so testy. Ya gave me a valuable lesson today. To quote the Princess: “One can find wisdom in the most extraordinary of places, from the most surprising of sources”. A wise mare she be."
He had heard something similar, but if she was as old as they claim she might just have been the source of that saying here in this world.
Twilight's head popped up, dust was on her left ear. He suddenly found himself questioning where she had gotten that peculiar mark.
"Are….are you done yet?" She inquired.
The duo looked at each other. A small smile came to Silver's lips, a smirk on his.
"Yeah, I'd say we buried the hatchet. The only way I can see of burying it any further would be over a mug of something strong, and I can't have that just yet." They both chuckled.
"Aye, maybe when yur older we can sit down for a pint or two. In ya git. No sense in makin' the lass wait." She playfully swatted his rear, which earned her a glare that she only laughed at.
She had a strong arm.
Rubbing his ass, he stalked into the library after Twilight and stopped.
Big was not the word for it. The place was humongous ! From where he stood, he could barely see the end, where a rough stone wall with braziers sat in hollowed-out spots in the rock wall at regular intervals. From what Twilight had told him, the place had been primarily carved out of the side of the mountain itself. And they only had access to the first three floors?
Canterlot Castle had been constructed in the center of the first plate. Known as the Royal Plate, it was the smallest of the three giant structures stuck to the side of the mountain through magic and talented builders.
While not small in any way other than by comparison to the other two, the Royal Plate was in a way the least crowded in terms of buildings, but still held not much else but mansions of the upper caste and the facilities of the castle itself.
The Great Canterlonian Library was said to hold the most extensive collection of literature and relics in the known world. Its collection, having grown from the meager gatherings at the nation's founding, had spurred on more than one expansion and had begun to burrow through the mountain some eight hundred years ago, which explained its current setup.
Meaning much of the walls and ceilings had become unadorned gray mountain rock, save for the tapestries of various scenes. Scenes showcasing more than just the history of Equestria, but of a time before when things were far less civilized.
A surprising number showcased battles of all things, a stark contrast to the population's current pacifistic nature. There were also statues and reliefs, with plaques detailing the events of their carving and when they were made.
From the large crystal chandeliers lit with gems crafted in the shape of yellow and orange flames. To the tables, chairs, and couches in rich dark woods and cloth of subdued colors, the tall arched windows of clear glass letting in the afternoon light painted a serene portrait of a place of learning.
The only detractor from the well-set-up furniture and ornate decorations was the very bookshelves themselves.
Order may have been first considered in their construction, but the four-story tall shelves with islands of chairs and tables set amongst them were a labyrinth of corridors and passageways. Some were so narrow it could be considered that children operated the library instead of the occasional black-clothed librarian that seemed to pop in and out of the corridors several yards away.
The construction of the bookcases themselves seemed to change slightly, a record of the different styles through the centuries of expansion that surely was the reason for the seemingly haphazard way they had been thrown together.
"What….the fuck, Twilight. How in the absolute hell do you find anything in here?" Orion's voice, barely above a whisper, spoke of the awe he felt.
He couldn't help but draw comparisons to the great libraries of earth. He had seen pictures if not been to them himself, but he felt they would have pissed themselves in jealousy at the sheer volume of documents and books that this place likely possessed.
With its rabbit's warren of passages, it made him think of the internet if it could have been given physical form. Maybe he would even find porn in here.
That drew a chuckle from him.
Coming over to stand with him. The purple filly could only laugh with him, if not for the same reason.
"I had the same look on my face when the Princess brought me here. But please watch your language. The librarians here don't like that." She had tried to moderate his language before, with little success, but here she would very likely succeed.
"Still, my question stands. How do you find anything?! This place is huge, and I can't imagine the tangle those aisleways are."
Her smile grew wider, and she held up a finger, adopting a lecturing tone.
"Oh, they have an amazing way of cataloging each book using crystals. Each book has a crystal embedded into the spine, which is harmonized with the crystal that is in the bookcase that they are assigned. When somepony needs a particular book, a third crystal that is in tune with the bookcase and spine crystals themselves is used to locate them. That crystal sits in a box marked for the subject to which they are assigned."
They had a Dewey Decimal System without the math. Simple if he thought about it, but a library this size would require a room with shelves full of crystals marked appropriately.
When she finished her little lecture, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to a room that looked to have expanded like the library. Its back half or so looked to be dug into the rock of the mountain as well.
Small lamps with carved crystals of red and orange were here, giving a warm quality to the light that illuminated the entire thing.
Sure enough, they stepped into an office with rows upon rows of drawers. Each one having a number at its head. From what he could see of the first few, titles of subjects on the front placards that had been pasted to the individual drawers were on display.
"This is the Office of Directory. Here we can search for a subject that we wish to find. It's one of eight. This, and those like it, is the only section of the library that is actually kept in alphabetical order. Attempting to do so of the Library proper would take a century or more; by then, it would have to be reorganized again before it came close to completion. Just from the sheer amount of literary works written during that century would have to be cataloged and put in their proper place once more." A frown creased her features. "It's not right, and if I ever learn enough, I will organize this place if it's the last thing I ever do!" She spoke with conviction.
"Whoa, tell me how ya really feel!" He kept that thought to himself, however. If he poked her in this mood, she would likely go on a tirade that would not stop till she exhausted herself. Twilight had done it before, and his brain had wanted to melt from being forced to listen to the merits of tram travel to walking. She hated walking. It took time away from reading.
How were they friends again?
"Okay, so where are the librarians?" The office itself stood empty. In fact, he hadn't seen a single soul since they entered the smaller chamber. There weren't even guards posted inside.
"Likely putting books away and documenting new entries, or they could even be pulling books for orders from the nobility or an inquiring researcher from the university here in the city." She tapped her hoof a moment. "Oh! And I suppose other cities with universities as well! Maybe even-"
"Yeah yeah, I get it. Smart people needing to make themselves smarter got it." He interrupted quickly. No need for more of that.
"Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself there." She giggled. "Okay. Let's go pick out our subjects!" She dashed off into rows, likely already knowing what she was looking for and leaving him with the questions he had, dying on his lips. The mystery of the dusted ear grew. Where had it come from if she had not been looking for some obscure tome?
"Well, shit…." Orion hadn't come here with a plan. Mostly he had come only to get the mildly threatening letters Celestia had been sending the past month to stop.
They weren't overtly threatening in the way anyone else would have read them as, but he got the hint.
Picking an aisle, he began to scan titles.
"Why would anyone want to know the best way to boil rocks? For eating?!"
Celestia had chosen the Hall of Terraces for two reasons.
First and foremost, its open pathways on the second floor with arched crystalline windows let in the warm afternoon sun on this rather chilly day. Her guests, some from Saddle Arabia itself, would appreciate that, as well as the works of art, pulled from the Library's archives just yesterday for this event. Those statues and paintings were sourced from older times in their home country.
The Saddle Arabians were not the only ones in attendance. The usual sycophants and snooty elite were there as well, necessary in only softening her visitors' expectations, and she did not wish to deal with their whining later when they found they had been excluded. She had learned that particular lesson long ago.
Besides, an opponent with their back up was hard to negotiate with, and she would have the mining rights to Northern Alsakhria. The ore there was too valuable to pass up, and she had spent far too long as it was attempting a trade deal.
The second, arguably less important to most, was that it overlooked the Great Canterlonian Library doors. The very room that Orion Falls was expected to be in.
She had grown tired of his continued excuses to Twilight and had set about, gently, to force his compliance. He would not ruin her student's progress in any way. A great many plans rested on that filly's shoulders, and she would burn if that colt ruined them by being recalcitrant.
The foal in question had been an enigma. His test had come back clean. There wasn't a trace of Umbrum contamination or blood to be found within him. So he was neither a product of that cult nor a descendant.
The guilt she felt now for her overreaction to the possibility was regrettable. Twenty-seven Royal Guards may have been a bit much for a juvenile. But she and her long-absent sister worked too hard destroying that old order that she wasn't about to risk a return, no matter how innocent he may have seemed.
He would never know how close to death he had come that day.
Still, his examination brought forth a number of other questions—his heritage, for one.
It was clear from the original blood work that he wasn't wholly a pony, though his appearance was predominantly just that. While her technicians had more resources available to them than the original examiners, they had not brought anything else to light. That should not have been possible. They still had on file several races that had long since died out, at least their blood samples, including the Kirin.
That race's existence had been brief. Their disappearance is still a matter of discussion for some of the older philosophers.
The idea of an openly omnivorous pony was a foreign idea to many, especially in this era, but one she had seen before. However, that was long in the past, before even the Founding. To have one beginning the practice again would indeed send ripples of shock through the current society. Shattering accepted belief. Not to mention, while the ponies of the past did it out of necessity, Orion’s need was wholly different from just survival.
He needed the essential protein found in the meat of animals. He could make do with specific plants that carried similar components, just in larger quantities. But this wasn't the only problem with his needed diet.
Most flowers, hay, and grasses were shown to be incompatible with him. That was beyond odd, and the first in history that she knew of, though she had found out that he somehow already knew of that. It was all very bizarre.
She shook her head. Her mind should be on this soiree and not on a troublesome colt too world-wise to be expected.
The noblemare Willow Switch, a severe and tight-faced mare with a mouth set in a constant frown, gave her greetings in a low curtsey.
She gave her usual motherly smile, inclined her head in acknowledgment, and then tolerated the empty platitudes and thinly veiled inquiries. Which, of course, would be only used to give the mare leverage in whatever inane thing she wanted.
She imagined crushing the pony's head in with a fist. Several centuries ago, that would have alarmed her. But she had long since grown used to the idle daydreams. Because that's all they would ever be, as disturbing as they were. She supposed it was natural given her lengthy tenure ruling.
Barely keeping the conversation, an inquiry about luxury taxes, she managed to spot Twilight and Orion arriving at the entrance of the Library. The smile she normally wore took on an honest air, growing slightly wider than before.
"I win."
Thoughts of how the crystal network that seemed to track every book in the place had ended up drawing him to the subject of crystal magic itself.
He found the appropriate placard and pulled the drawer open. Inside were three misshapen crystals set in recesses of felt cloth.
There were others that also held information on his desired subject of study. However, they were more advanced, and he only wanted an introductory course to begin with. So he chose “Sharp Eye's Introductions to Crystal Theory”.
Seemed a safe enough start.
Picking up the crystal that was under the name, what had looked like a misshapen lump turned out to be a curved teardrop, he headed back to the front to wait on Twilight. As he walked, he examined the carved gem in his hand.
In the darkness of the drawer, it had looked like one solid precious stone, but in the light, he could see three distinct types of crystal. Two embedded in the larger end, and one in the skinner tail end. All three looked like green balls set in the clear teardrop.
There were no signs of cutting.
"How in the hell did they mix them together like that?" He muttered to himself, flipping the thing over to eye the single ball at the tail end.
"Oh, that used a displac-" Orion nearly climbed into the air.
"Fuckin' hell, you terror! Ya nearly made my heart stop!" He had not heard Twilight approaching, and with a second glance, he should have.
The filly's arms were loaded down with a good dozen of the teardrop crystals. All were clinking together in discordant sounds as she walked. Her giggles only increased the clinks.
"I'm sorry, Orion…" She snorted. "I didn't think to call out to you." She looked at what he held, the snickers slowly leaving. "Only one?"
"Some of us can't absorb information like a sponge, Bob. Sometimes folks have to take their time learning and can't focus on more than one subject." He grumbled.
Twilight had to be one in a million, and while he had heard of folks with the ability to multitask, he didn't think any of them could compete with her.
Not only could she cover more than one subject, but she was also gifted with the ability to think and analyze in the same way, which allowed her to learn about a subject faster than anyone else—coupled with the fact that she was already far stronger than your average unicorn, made the filly downright terrifying.
"Who's Bob?” Her face scrunched up in thought. “By the Sun, Orion, you sometimes say the weirdest things." Shaking her head, she fixed him with a rueful look. "Sorry, I forget about that sometimes." She likely meant her study habits.
"It's fine. You were saying?" He might as well learn as much as he can from the walking encyclopedia herself.
"Oh yes, the Seeker Stones, as they are called, are made when a Crystagrapher grows them through crystallization. A Crystagrapher is a class of spell crafters, as you no doubt know." He didn't know, but he wasn't about to stop her.
"One of the few magical arts not regulated to only unicorns, Crystagraphers can come from all known races, some of the most powerful from earth ponies themselves! There are even legends from long ago about an entire nation whose citizens were inherently capable of doing so at birth!"
She had begun to get off track.
"Twilight. Stick to the original subject, please. We only have so much time in the day." He interrupted just as she took a large breath, likely about to lead into a tangent that would leave him old and gray.
"Sorry," she smiled apologetically, "as I was saying. Crystagraphers grow their crystals from their own mana by infusing the right minerals with subdermal spells. You know, the spells designed to manipulate stone and earth?" He must have had a blank look on his face cause she had halted her explanation.
"Uh…no. No, I didn't know that. I do now, thank you. My education does not compare to yours, Purple Smart." He hoped he had not been slack-jawed.
"Oh. That's true. Sorry I'll try and explain better without going "off the rails”." she air quoted somehow with her armful of Seeker Stones.
"Anyway, Subdermal spells are spells designed to work beneath the dirt or on hard surfaces like gems. Crystagraphers make great use of these spells when crafting crystals for specific functions.
"In the case of Seeker Stones, the green crystals known as Malachite are grown first. An attune spell is cast on them during their formation." She paused for a moment. "Kind of like…"
"A magical frequency? Like a radio?" It was a guess, but he felt that was what she was looking for. Radios in this world were a relatively new invention, the tech only being about thirty years old.
"Yes! Great comparison, Orion! But the radio is only a new invention. How did you know about it?" He only grunted and kept quiet on the fact that Manehattan had been the location in which they were first developed. Twilight looked like she wanted to pet his head and pepper him with questions simultaneously.
"As I was saying, a harmonic frequency called a “Tune Spell” is cast during their growth phase. It also acts as a kind of binding to make it last. Once grown, it is then sealed inside a Seeker Stone using a displacement spell, which is one of the Subdermal spells. It implants the gem into the crystal, removing a part in the size and shape of the stone being put in. The Seeker Stone itself will act as a...power source that will need charging occasionally."
He was getting a headache. This was a very long-winded explanation for a simple system.
"So it's safe to assume that the other crystals in this network are given a similar harmonic spell with slight variations to allow for directing. With the book or document having the fully matching spell frequency." It was like a thumbprint, but for books, only not quite more like an address.
"Exactly! Wow, you might have a talent for it! Crystagraphy, I mean." She beamed.
Hardly. It just sounded like an address code for emails in a company. One emailer from another company could have his email sent to a different company using the correct address.
That was his understanding of it, at least. He had hardly paid attention in Computer Lab, but it sounded right to him.
"So, how do these find what we are looking for?" He hefted his Stone up.
"Once we leave the Directory, the Malachite will glow blue, and the nearest bookcase to the destination will also light up, but green, indicating the start of your path. When you approach another, that too will light up as a guide to the right case. Once you reach your destination, you will see a blue glow marking the correct bookshelf. That will be the section where you will look for the green gem shining in the spine of the correct book."
It was exactly like an email. Only you were the one carrying the message rather than relying on the system to do it for you.
"Okay, I get it. So how do we get out of that mess once we find what we need?"
"Turning the Seeker Stone upside down will activate the gem in the bottom. Like when searching for the document or book you have been looking for, it will guide you to the quickest path back out."
Convenient.
He thought for a moment about what she said and made some guesses.
"So I can assume by coming back here once I am done, the third gem will guide me back to where I got the Seeker Stone originally?" Her excited grin was answer enough. "And I can also assume that most of the librarians here at least have a passing grade in Crystagraphy in order to work here?"
"Yes! Wow, Orion, you're three for three. This really might be your talent!" She practically quivered with excitement.
"Naw. It's like the postal system if ya think about it." She wouldn't know what the hell an email was. "Just a return address stamped at the top."
She frowned thoughtfully, "Very true." Then she smiled. "Anyway! Ready to go?"
True to what she had explained, the moment he walked out of the office, a blueish glow emanated from the crystal in his hand. Another crystal on a bookcase nearest him glowed softly green in response.
His path set, he followed after them as they lit the way through the crazy turns inside the labyrinth.
It didn't take long, though the twists and turns made him fear he had gotten lost somehow, and before he knew it, he sat before a set of shelves deep inside the complex's first floor.
The gem on the case was now showing that lovely cerulean color.
As his gaze traveled up, he could see the fabric on one of the many book spines, glowing an answering green to the crystal in his hand.
"Well, thank God there's a fucking ladder built into the damn thing…" 'Introductions to Crystal Theory sat far outside his magical influence. "Stupid fucking limitations…"
An old argument to himself at this point. The new teacher replacing Mr. Cottonridge seemed to agree and had begun a mission to break him of what he was calling a block.
The thought of Mr. Cloverleaf and his exercises made him want to cry. The dude was determined to see him improve and absolutely ruthless in his application of ideas. The guy had heart, he just wished the stallion was nicer about it.
Climbing to the fifth from the last shelf, he reached out to grab the still glowing book and realized too late he had made a terrible mistake.
His right hand still held the Seeker Stone. That very hand was also being used to hold onto the carved-out rung of the bookcase. Just as he had managed to pull the book out of its slot, he lost his grip and was sent plummeting to the bottom with a yelp.
"OOOHHHH SHHIIIIIITTTTTTTT!!"
Orion's world spun as he struck a shelf and reversed spin as he hit another. He was going to be sick.
The sudden and very hard stop drove all thoughts of throwing up from his head. Air too.
"Uuuhhhh….the fuck happened…" He blinked and squinted at the harsh light assaulting his eyes as he slowly remembered where he was.
His head pounded in agony. He shifted. "Oh, please don't let me have broken anything…."
Gingerly he worked his arms first, stretching and twisting to ensure that he hadn't shattered them. He was not surprised to be pushing books away from himself in the process. Considering his fall, it's a sheer miracle that either bookcase hadn't fallen on him in his descent.
Once he ensured his arms were in good working order, he moved on to his legs and then his back. Amazingly enough, he hadn't broken a damn thing, but he certainly got a few lumps for his troubles. Likely from the books that followed his plummet to the ground, they had left quite a few welts on him.
Putting both hands down to push himself up, he paused as his right hand came to rest on an old cloth-bound tome. What gave him pause was the title he caught as he moved to push it away.
"Enchanting and You, A Beginners Guide."
A rather lame title, but he had heard about the skill in school. A lost art, it was said, in that no one currently living, including the Princess herself, was capable of using it.
To date, it hasn't been discovered why that was, or at least no one is telling.
Sharp Eye's instructional was momentarily forgotten; as his curiosity got the better of him, he remained sitting as he cracked open the first few pages.
The book was old, ancient.
Brass corner caps, tarnished with age, held together with the cloth that likely had been glued to the wood board of what was like more of a handbook rather than a primer. Inside there were actual cloth hinges reinforcing the cover and holding in the bindings of the pages themselves.
Instead of printed words, a blocky, angular script in old Equestrian had been written in. This book had been constructed old-fashioned in every way it seemed.
"Enchanting and You, A Beginners Guide." He read once more on the cover page.
"It is with great hope that you, a pursuer of knowledge, will find the following passages enlightening in your efforts to learn and grow in the marvelous field of Artification.
"Be advised to be tested before beginning. Many, including the scribe of this instruction, cannot understand the complex formulas and structures that lie within.
"It is not a mark against you as a pony—only an effort to keep you from striving for a thing that may never be.
"The passages herein are transcribed in the new style, as recommended by the original author, to reach a wider audience.
"It is this scribe's hope to foster a new generation of intrepid creators to further our growth and knowledge for the future of not just the Glorious Nation of Equestria, but the world as a whole.
"Thank you, and good luck.
"Scribe Clover
“Original work by Bearded Star."
"Well….that's certainly an introduction. New style? It must be the modern language now. Wonder who Bearded Star or this Clover guy was." He muttered to himself.
He flipped to the next page and blinked for a moment before his mouth fell open.
It was circuitry. Enchanting, or Artification as the book officially called it, was based on magical circuitry. Resistors, transistors, and logic gate symbols stood out bold to him on the left-hand side of the first page.
Attached to those symbols were spell formulas. What were the odds?
However, instead of the same terms, they had their own terminology.
Resistors were Controllers. Direction Control for the logic gates. His eighth and ninth-grade computer science lab courses rose from the murk in his mind.
"I could do this…" He mused to himself.
He could. As he flipped through the pages, more memories crept to the forefront of his thoughts. Mr. Blinky, a simple circuit board, set up for the LEDs to blink, had been his first foray into the field before he had found he liked blowing stumps up more with chemicals. Otherwise, he would have likely gone into computers instead.
He was taking this home with him.
Standing up after shutting the book, he went to find his bag to slip it in, only to stop with a frown on his face. "If I try to take this, what will happen?" No one alive could make use of this type of magic currently. If he could... "I'd never get a moment's peace." The ramifications we're beginning to come clear to him.
Celestia, first and foremost, would be all over him. The first possible enchanter in however many years would be too valuable of a resource just to let go their own way. He shuddered at a memory of black-suited agents kicking in his door all those years ago in the middle of the night. He should have run the moment they let him go after he had done what they wanted.
This would be worse. He could see it now, nice apartments, all the food he could want as well. But he wouldn't be able to step out the door without a retinue of guards up his ass at any given time.
A gilded cage.
He would never get to take a chance or see anything for himself—life in a proverbial bubble that was no life.
“Nope. Nu-uh. Ain't no way.”
Then there was anyone with any ounce of power and money. They would hound him day and night even if Celestia never bothered to chain him to her.
There would be no end, for he could already see the benefits such an ability would give the world.
What was he to do? He really did want to try this out.
Taking the book was absolutely out of the question. The moment it left this library, the crystal in the spine might alert the staff that a book had been checked out through theft, and he was not about to risk that!
It was an automated system as each book had a thumbprint-like magical signature. The librarians would make a note of it, and if the Big White Marshmallow ever thought to check precisely what he and Twilight had looked into, he would be pegged immediately.
There would be questions he could not answer. Especially if it turned out, he could actually make something work.
That left him with no options.
"Think Orion, think! There has to be a way!" The back of his head thumped against the bookcase he had come to lean on, looking down with a frown.
His satchel he had brought with him laid half-buried in the scattered debris. That got him thinking about what he had brought with him. His eyes narrowed in furious thought. He had lugged four books with him, and only one was a geography book. He was having trouble remembering where certain nations were and their climates. There were also three notebooks, one partially filled with class notes.
"Wait…" An idea took shape within him.
Digging into the hip pack, he pulled out the empty notebook and two of the three inkwells he usually carried with him to school. He skipped the quill and nibs. If what he planned worked as well as he hoped, he wouldn't need it.
There was a spell, “Liquid Control” , that was of everyday household use in most unicorn homes. It was low level and was one of the first Twilight had shown him when she had decided to bombard him with spells in hopes of raising his ability through practice.
Liquid Control was a newer charm, most often used to either refill water basins, pitchers, or even water a garden when a bucket wasn't available.
The spell manipulated the target liquid. By itself, it would never be enough, and it wasn't precise enough to control moving fluid in more than a lump. But if he slaved a spell inside the liquid that would be subject to “Mirror Image” , an illusionary magic spell, he may just get the results he was looking for.
Between waiting for the pages to dry, a simple warming spell helped with that, it still took an hour to do. There were some mistakes, the first nine pages of his notebook were covered in black ink, but now he had the entirety of "Enchanting and You" within its pages.
Not a moment too soon either, Twilight's voice arose not too far away, calling for him. Another voice he did not know also mirrored the call.
Thinking quickly, he jammed the original under the fallen books, slammed everything else back into his bag, and laid down again after ensuring the air-tight seal for the inside inkwells. He made sure to spread books on himself in a haphazard fashion.
Hopefully, this would look like he fell and hadn't yet gotten up.
He closed his eyes and waited.
"Are you sure he went this way, Lady Sparkle?" An older, yet deferential voice, spoke out.
A surprising number of people regarded Twilight in that manner. He supposed being the apprentice or student of Celestias' came with a few perks.
"I'm positive he had said he was looking for a book by Sharp Eye. On Crystal Theory, I believe. He had decided on it when I told him how finding a book in this library works." Her voice sounded strained, worried.
Now he felt terrible. He knew she cared about him, but it was another thing to hear the concern for him coming from her. That made him feel like an even worse friend when he remembered his earlier actions.
However, he remained where he was, patiently waiting for them to discover his body. Slow, deep breaths.
"ORION!?"
He was bowled into with seventy something pounds of panicky purple pony. He acted accordingly.
"AHHH Christ, Twilight! The hell is wrong with you?!" He groaned as he pulled himself up from the puddle she had forced him into.
"I'm sorry!" She squeaked out. Her hands had not stopped checking him, and her horn was passing a pretty heavy scan spell over him.
In hindsight, he may have been too hasty making that copy of the book after all. He had used three spells repeatedly in his efforts. That was a lot of magical residues disrupting the ambient magic in the local space. Someone would notice if they sensed it, even as weak as he was.
It was either by grace or good fortune that Twilight always seemed to use so much power when she cast. With that much magic, his subtle flows were no doubt washed out by her much more powerful hammer blows of mana as she swapped from scanning to healing.
"What has happened here?" It was barely a question and more of a demand.
The startlingly gorgeous mare at the end of the aisle was as black as he was. Garbed neck to hoof in what could only be described as a cassock of bright white, with the emblem of Equestria on her left breast, she glared down at the pair in firm disapproval. A purple tabard draped around her shoulders completed the look.
She was beautiful, but the set of her mouth detracted from her looks a bit. She likely was madder than hell about the scattered pile of books that had journeyed down with him.
"What happened is simple. I am an idiot. Couldn't reach a book from down here, so I climbed the ladder on the side. I did not pocket the Seeker Stone. In my brilliance, instead, I carried it in my hand, so when I reached for the book I wanted, I slipped and fell. I can only assume I knocked my ass out." He started moving his arms again, bending slightly for the act. "I seem to be fine other than I hurt like hell."
The glare in response was about what he would expect from one who didn't want to pick up a bunch of books for no reason other than him knocking them down.
"I see." She said coldly. Blue eyes suited the icy tone nicely.
Getting up, he adjusted his clothes as best he could and fixed a smile on his face. He hated apologizing.
"Listen, pretty lady, I didn't mean to do this. I wasn't thinking, and I was more than a little irritated with the fact that I couldn't reach the book with my magic. I do apologize for the mess." He made a little bow and noticed that the mare was now blushing, blue eyes wide in surprise.
For that matter, a quick inquiring eye at Twilight only showed the filly's face unchanged, yet it seemed darker somehow.
"I said something wrong. But what?" He wouldn't ask, though. The black colt knew better than that. “Time to change the subject.” He coughed in his hand before speaking.
"How long was out?"
The purple filly gave a start and muttered, "...about two hours."
Well, it's no wonder she's upset. That was the entirety of their agreed-upon study time for the day. He had begged off on it being longer, wanting to get at least some gym time in that evening.
"Well, shit. There goes a wasted afternoon. I'm sorry, Purp Derp. I didn't mean to make ya worried." He sighed. This had not gone well.
"It's okay. You couldn't help what happened." Oh, this had to be fixed.
"How about I come back tomorrow. Since today was a bust, now I am fully aware of the hazards I should be able to not bash my face in with more books." He eyed the librarian, who was looking everywhere but at them. Curious. "Unless you guys have some beast wandering the aisles hunting the unwary."
That got a snort of laughter from Twilight and an alarmed look from the pink-maned mare.
"Of course not! We would not allow...oh." She frowned at his, no doubt, wicked grin. "Can I expect this behavior every time you come here?"
"Of course." He immediately responded. "Though I will do my best not to be such a localized disaster next time." He gestured to the scattered books. "This, as I said before, was not intended. I didn't even get to read what I wanted." A not complete and total lie.
The black-furred mare sighed. "I'll begin straightening this up. Where is the Seeker Stone you brought with you?"
That was a good question. When he had woken up, he had not bothered to search for it being too distracted by the now buried enchanting book.
"I…. actually have no clue. I've been out of it for a while." The amount of fallen literature on the ground made the task of sifting through it a bit daunting.
Another heavier sigh. "I will find it. You must go if what you had said was a fact. But please, do not do this again." She was poise and grace, and Orion got the feeling she wanted to hang her head in defeat despite the unbothered tone she tried to convey.
He pulled his satchel with its now precious cargo from the floor and slid around the librarian, trying to effect a shamed expression. He and Twilight followed her own Stone back to the entrance with little said between them.
It wasn't till after she had put away the many crystals she had picked, and they had left the library proper with Silver Bell once more leading the way, that Twilight had finally said something.
"I am sorry about today." He nearly jumped out of his skin. She really needed to stop that. Orion's mind had been more and more focused on what he carried in his satchel than on the day's events.
"Oh...uh yeah, I guess it didn't go as well as anyone would have liked." He chuckled. "But it wasn't all bad. You taught me a lot about how crystals worked, if not how to make use of them."
"That is true…" a finger pressed to her lips, "if you would like, I can find more about it and check out some books for you to study?" There was a very hopeful look in her eye.
"Yeah, that sounds good." It was best he humor her, and it might be good to learn another skill in any case. "Just keep it to ten to start. I can't read like you, remember?" They both laughed. A cough came from the pony walking in front of them. "Yeah?"
“You ‘avin’ a brawl wif the books in there, laddy?” She smirked.
“Well, Lady Bench-a-cart. I think I managed to tame the books on aisle forty-two. But I was blindsided by reserve forces from aisle seventy-eight.” He joked.
“Bench-a-cart?!” Both females fairly bleated. It must be ponies. There was just no way anyone else would miss a good joke like that. He sighed heavily.
"Have you seen her arms?" He gestured to the heavy set of her shoulders, "the good guardsmare here could likely bench a cart load full of shit!" The mirrored, disgusted looks did nothing to ease the laughter claiming him.
He was starting to have a hard time breathing.
Getting himself under control took the rest of the journey to the castle courtyard, the other two giving him revolted looks, a carriage already sitting at the foot of the palace stairs.
"This will take you back to your home." Ah, the Scottsmare was gone. Stick-in-the-butt had returned. "Just tell them the desired location, and you will be on your way." She finished, all very official.
"Awesome. Need to get my gym clothes anyway." He tossed his satchel in carelessly. The lids on his ink bottles were secured by a vacuum seal he had created with a simple wind spell, so he was not concerned with spillage.
He might be overdoing the act. But he wanted to drive it home that there was nothing of importance in that bag. He was worried if he didn't, he would be seen as treating it as a precious package instead. People would remember that.
"Careful there, you make light of my arms, but you keep at it the way you are, and no mare will be interested in you then. We tend to like our stallions soft and gentle." Her grin soon morphed to mild outrage.
"Lady, I don't give a rat's ass about anyone's interest. I'm doing this for me, and my arms will be bigger than yours." He snickered.
Brushing his pants off from dust he had ignored earlier, he noticed a disturbed look on Twilight's face.
"What?"
"You….you don't want a wife one day?" She asked tentatively, eyes downcasted. Silver Bell looked elsewhere, doing a terrible job of looking like she wasn't listening.
He frowned at the pair of them.
"No, I don't. At least not right after I graduate." If ever. "I don't know if you've noticed Purple Smart, but when a stallion gets into a relationship around here, they end up being forced to the mare's whims for the rest of their lives. Oh, sure, they can have their interests, as long as they are safe. I want my freedom, and there is a great big world out there to see. I aim to see as much of it as possible. Not languish away in a lovely home taking care of foals day in and day out." He stepped forward, hoof on the bottom step. "To tell you the truth, I'm not daddy material anyway. Despite me being one, I don't like kids, with few exceptions, of course."
"But you would be alone…" She almost sounded like she was wailing.
"Heh, maybe. But I'm fine with that." Of course, now she looked like she was about to cry. "Oh, come on. It isn't like it's all bad. I'll be sure to keep a journal of my journey and have it delivered to you when I can't travel anywhere anymore. Well, a copy at least." He smirked.
That did absolutely nothing for the trail of tears now descending her face or the sob that wracked her body.
"What in the absolute hell is wrong with her?" He couldn't understand it. Why was she sad when he wasn't?
Silver Bell's own face had taken on a war of emotion, from anger to incredulity, as her gaze shifted back and forth between them. Her head swung to him again, and she seized him by the arm and hauled him a few yards away.
"Are ye daft, laddy? You kent jus say that to anypony. You'd crush 'er heart like that?!" She hissed in his ear.
"What?" He was confused. Crush her heart? How? Then it clicked.
He wanted to laugh. This mare was the daft one. Twilight crushing on him? He half expected to walk in on her in the school library with a book halfway up her skirt than another person swapping spit with her.
Instead, he shoved his thumb under the bracer on her arm and drove it between the tender spots of her forearm.
She yelped in alarm and maybe surprised pain, hand springing away.
"Listen, Twilight is what, ten, eleven? She's not in love with me. I'd fear for the books in the library before anything else. So look for pages that stick together." He waved his hands back and forth. " Getting off topic here." Gesturing subtly at the still crying filly, he spoke low and quick. "She's a sweetheart, but we have known each other barely over a year. We are nine and eleven, and there is no reason to see something that's not there. She has a very big heart. Likely what you think is love is actually worry. No one wants a friend to suffer, and she would be the type to get upset over my supposed self-isolation."
Rubbing her forearm, the Guardsmare nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, you might just be right about that. But to be so harsh...it's not right." He shrugged in response.
"Not my problem. Best to keep her from trying to be a matchmaker now rather than later." He looked up, noting the sky growing dark. "Listen, I gotta go. I hate to dump her on ya, but…" He left the rest unfinished.
"I understand, but you will have to soothe her yourself once she settles down." They turned around, and Twilight was gone.
Looking to his right, he raised an eyebrow at one of the members of the coach team.
"She ran back inside." The closest one said with a glare directed at him. He just rolled his eyes before turning back to Silver.
"Again, sorry. Just….fuck. Just tell her I apologize if I hurt her feelings and that we can talk about it later when she's ready." The mare decked in shining royal armor just sighed and patted his shoulder, pushing him toward the carriage.
Getting in, he called for the team to take him to the orphanage. It was the absolute worst ride he had ever experienced.
Watching Twilight run weeping to her apartments in the Solar Quarter with a frown, Celestia glided in the opposite direction to the library.
"Best to give her some time. Something must have happened to give her such distress." In truth, she wanted to rush to the little filly and comfort her immediately, to learn what troubled her. However, as bad as she wanted to, hardship is what made a pony grow.
Instead, she made her way to the Great Library. There had been an incident and she wondered if there was a correlation between her student's tears and the commotion that occurred within the library's aisles.
Her path ended up taking her right into a brooding Silver Bell, who saluted rather smartly once she noticed the monarch.
"Princess."
"How was Orion's visit with little Twilight today?" The small smile she wore as her mask barely held as her lieutenant relayed the events of the afternoon.
She was delighted in the fact that the Guardsmare and he had settled the differences between them. It was good for both to understand each other, and she feared she might have had to set up a forced mediation between the pair.
Apparently, from what the mare could gather, there was indeed an incident within the library. An accident that cost the majority of the time he had to spend with Twilight this day. She tsked in frustration.
Not what she wanted at all. But at least he had made an attempt. There would be more.
But her irritation over it became compounded when Silver mentioned how he had departed. She was pleased and angry at the same time. On the one hand, she had not wanted there to be a connection of romance between the two. It was good that he only seemed to regard her as a friend.
The problem was that she wasn't pleased with how it came about. Orion’s blunt attitude, carried in his usual caustic manner, had somewhat crushed the little filly's heart.
His flat disbelief and dismissal of her potential feelings reminded her of the "Pretty Stallions" some three hundred years ago.
They preyed on the fact that most mares would do almost anything to have a stallion in their lives and ended up leaving a wake of broken hearts behind them. It made her sick just remembering how they pitted ponies against each other, all hoping to win their affection.
Not just mares had been caught in that debacle.
She had to remind herself that Orion was not being selfish or trying to emulate the pathetic stallions of the past. He just remained his aloof self, but something needed to be done about his callousness and indifference to societal norms. It was one thing to be a little eccentric, another entirely to buck all social custom.
From what her lieutenant said, a romantic life seemed to hold no interest for him. Which was decidedly odd as colts she had spoken to dreamed of being in a loving herd. To learn, that he not only rejected the idea but saw it as some sort of trap was more than a little alarming.
His focus on traveling the world was also concerning.
There were always young foals who sought adventure in every generation. Male or female, it did not matter. They all wished for something to define them, usually in pursuit of their cutie marks.
He might just become another Long Stride, or Star Gazer. Another name crept up with the first pair, a painful one, from the confines of her past. Starswirl the Bearded. He had just vanished one day after sealing up his wing of the ancient castle. With him went several prominent members of her inner court. No pony had even seen them leave.
"What happened to you, my old friend?"
Arriving at the library's double doors, she instructed Silver to be on call should she have need of the guardsmare. Stepping inside, she was greeted by a flushing Book Song. Sitting at a table, she was bent over. The black-furred librarian was pushing around a cracked Seeker Stone, her magic gently probing in what could be determined easily as an attempt to see if it could be repaired.
But her normal fastidiousness seemed listless. As Celestia approached, the mare had performed the same exam at least three times by the time she stood by the table.
"Miss Song? What is wrong?" After today's events, she had little patience to put in much for small talk, and her librarian's mood filled her with unease.
She hoped that there had been no permanent damage done to her facility.
"Wha-? Oh, Princess!" She rose to greet her, but the monarch just waved her back down. "I am so sorry, Your Highness, but what did you say?"
"I asked what was wrong. You seem pensive today." She gently responded. She may not want small talk, but she would not be rude.
"Oh, nothing. Other than this broken Seeker, I don't believe I will be able to get it working again, and the mess down aisle thirty-one D section, of which Script and Stencil are currently taking care of, everything else is fine." She trailed off. "...just fine…"
Celestia wanted to snort in sour humor. Light Script and Stencil Hearts were like rabbits in a sack. They had often been caught in a forgotten, or so they believed, corner of one of the aisles in the throes of passion. She couldn't blame Stencil, Light was a very handsome stallion, after all. But if those two were together, whatever mess had been made would take longer than it should in getting straightened out. Book Song knew this but was obviously distracted.
"What happened, my little pony?"
It was a brief story, told through a small smile.
It was about what she had expected and better than she had hoped. Orion had fallen while attempting to reach a book on Crystal Theory. When Twilight arrived, she cast an examination spell to see if anything was broken.
Despite the hard knock to the head, the colt didn't even get a concussion. Other than bruises, which her student had taken care of immediately, he turned out fine.
When Book Song reached the end of her retelling, the reason for her smile became clear.
He had called her a "Pretty Lady".
For many, that would be a normal if pleasant remark. For Song, however, it meant so much more.
Forty years ago, the mare had not been a librarian but an elite agent in her service. The black unicorn specialized in infiltration and sabotage. She was quite good at it.
Until she was captured, a mistake in the information received led her into a trap that cost her dignity and more. The white cassock she wore covered terrible scars that now disfigured her. Only her face had remained untouched.
Of course, they had rescued her, but she was never the same. She was offered a position here and had not left the library since. Most in the castle knew what had happened to her, which kept her at a distance from others. So for forty years, she had remained quiet, in humble service to the throne, never letting anypony get close.
Till today it seemed.
She left the still flustered mare with instructions to file a report should anything besides a Seeker Stone having been destroyed. Old books were more challenging to replace than a magical crystal that was grown by hand.
Leaving the library, she dismissed Silver Bell for the night. As she turned and made her way to her own apartments, she contemplated what to say to Twilight. Her rooms were not far from her own, and the route she was taking would take her by her student's dorm.
A rueful smile spread across her face. Considering how much of a bookworm her student is and her utter lack of interest in most ponies, she had never thought she might actually have to have this conversation. At least, not this soon.
Maybe in a few decades when the filly had exhausted the stock of books and manuscripts in the kingdom. But certainly not now.
Celestia stopped in front of a door painted purple with a starburst cutie mark emblazoned upon it. She adjusted her dress. It always pays to look calm and collected when comforting others.
With a turn of the knob and a push, the muffled cries of her student made her heartache. As she shut the door behind her and took her first steps toward Twilight's bed, a daydream began to unfold in her head of kicking Orion so hard he sailed over the castle parapet.
"Okay, that might be a little much."
He wasn't disappointed when he had gotten out of class and not seen a carriage or Twilight waiting for him, saddened to his surprise but not disappointed. After that night, he suspected it might be a good while before he saw the filly again other than in passing in the school halls.
Those were very brief.
What he hadn't expected was for there to be weeks of this behavior. He wondered if Silver Bell had been right. If she was, he felt dirty, not that he could help it.
He was, in fact, a thirty-one-year-old man stuck in a child's body. Well, thirty-five now, if he added his age in his horse body. The very concept of a child being in love with him, or even crushing on him, made him shiver in disgust. He couldn't blame them as only he knew what he was under all the fur. But he knew and felt all the dirtier for it.
Sadly, he couldn't go running around claiming an age like that while looking like he is.
So with the temporary loss of a friend and access to an incredible library, he fell back into his old habits. With the addition of his pilfered study material, of course.
It was certainly a very interesting reading. According to Scribe Clover, as told by Bearded Star, it was possible to imbue metal and other hard substances such as stone with spells.
At first, it sounded exactly like what one would do with crystals. In fact, crystals were often used in the crafting of certain enchantments. The difference, however, was the power source and capacity. Crystal magic, he had found a book at the school library covering the subject, had the issue of unexpected losses in power. For the Great Canterlonian Library, someone would have to charge the entire library with their own magic once a month.
According to Twilight later, the Princess herself would often do it as she had more than enough power for the job. Though lately, someone else had been undertaking the task themselves, and no one but Celestia knew who.
Then there was capacity.
While crystals could handle up to four gems embedded within a larger one, they could not intermix. Nor derive energy from the same power source. Each individual crystal, gem, or stone had to be powered separately, hence the constant need for recharging.
The Seeker Stone was a perfect example. Only one gem could be active at any time within the crystalline structure. If someone were to try and activate more than one spell, the harmonic energies between the two or more would synchronize and shatter the entire thing.
According to Bearded Star's writings, enchantments didn't suffer that no matter how many spells you placed on the very same object. On top of that, you only needed one power supply for all of them.
Enchantments themselves derived their power from the ambient magic in the thaumatic field that enveloped the natural world. There was never a need for charging. The energy was always there. However, that was not to say it didn't come with its own problems. Mana surges were a thing much like an electrical surge and could completely fracture the circuit. This would force you to remake the spell and item it was attached to, as the original would be mana poisoned, rendering the material too weak to rework.
The harmonic effect would also affect the enchantment. Eventually, it too would fall out of alignment with the thaumatic field with constant use, something about the thrum of power rattling the insides. The only plus side to that is that it would take literal years for it to happen, and using a gem as the regulator would prolong that to decades. Maybe even centuries depending on the size of the crystal and how it was set up inside a unit. There were overload issues as well, but they were often extreme.
But the benefits, dear God, the benefits!
Items were not limited by spell but by the amount of space available on that object and what the resonances of similar spell structures might do to each other. Though Bearded indicated, there was a way to buffer against that. A staff could potentially hold hundreds of enchantments. However, you wouldn't want to do that merely because then the spell effect of each enchantment would be reduced. The size of the script, or wiring as he would called it, was crucial in this case.
He was sure there was a way around it, but he had no idea how a cellphone operated back in his world, having only the basic understanding of circuitry that he had. So miniaturization would likely be a trial and error kind of deal.
One of the other significant benefits was that separate enchantments could be slaved together, or linked in tandem, might be a better phrase, from individual items. Orion could build an engine without combustion. Car companies the world over back on earth would kill for that capability. And oil companies would assassinate whoever came up with it and bury the knowledge just as readily.
His imagination was literally the limit on what he could do with this. But he had to be careful. Very careful. Orion’s past experience with government bodies weighed heavily on him. Considering what he had been put through, he could not bring himself to act so openly.
Not with this.
For whatever reason, Artification was a legendary skill that no one alive today had the knowledge and ability to do. If he suddenly started showing off, he would likely be snatched up so fast his head would fall off.
He would never be able to live free again. Yet he had to know. He still had no idea if he could make an enchantment or not.
It was an easier decision than he realized.
Weeks of hunting scrap metal at night from the manufacturing section on the third plate produced enough material he believed would work for both practice and final development.
He had decided to go small, very small. Something he could easily hide in his mane and it not be seen or just dismissed as a trinket while still big enough not to require all the effort to miniaturize it.
In truth, he could have made it out of wood, but the gold script that was to be put in likely would fall out, or the wood would rot, rendering it useless when the support fell away.
Mages in the past had tried to make enchantments out of solid gold, and while it did work, no one could hold onto them because of the magical surge and heat.
"Don't do that" , had been written several times in the book about making that attempt. Scribe Clover was insistent that Bearded Star had wanted to make it very clear, thus the repeats. Never use pure gold.
It was likely more than just superficial burns that happened to those poor unfortunates who had tried that route. His copy didn't detail what, though, and he was happy not to know.
Instead, one was recommended to use iron or stone as the frame for durability, which led to him having to study metallurgy. That had been an eye-opener. It seemed in this culture, the concept of steel was a carefully guarded secret only taught to approved metal workers. Even then, there was a considerable amount of red tape in approving just apprenticeships. Fortunately, his grandfather had taught him how to make simple carbon steel, not that he would need it at the moment. All the scrap metal he had managed to scrounge up had already been pre-forged. Orion mostly needed heat values and rework techniques to make any of them useful.
Now in the corner of the basement under the orphanage and inside an old musty wooden box, sat twelve rough ingots of steel. To call them ingots was a bit generous. Without proper forging equipment, he had been forced to make half-an-inch long metal bars. Any larger, and his telekinesis had trouble holding them during the heating process. It was the first time he had learned that there were more than just distance limits to that simple spell.
But he figured it was for the best. The smaller pieces looked innocuous. Considering their sooty appearance, they actually fit in with the jumble of junk down there.
Gold had been easy, having only to ask for more than the usual allowance. With the low heat requirements, it was easy to remove the dross and purify. Getting gold and steel was a simple trick compared to acquiring gems. Had he not gotten lucky one afternoon in broad daylight no less, he might never have gotten the chance. He didn't even feel guilty about it.
Spring had long since come. It was the middle of May, in fact. It was particularly hot, and he was miserable.
Coming back from the gym, the long way as he had drifted to the jewelry shops on thirty-second street to sift through their trash for what felt like the thousandth time. He still had yet to find even one serviceable gem. There had been a few, but like any jewel maker, he couldn't use one with blemishes inside.
An accident between two carriage teams and their passengers ended up being the boon he needed.
Coming to the corner of Oak Leaf and Ginger, he came upon a scene of pony-drawn ambulances and crying. The stallions sitting by the overturned and twisted coaches wept for all they were worth.
They hadn't been hurt, from what he could tell, but the pair were lamenting over missing jewelry. That got Orion's attention quick, fast, and in a hurry.
The crowd, primarily mares offering comfort to the duo in increasingly lurid sentences, was too distracted to notice a black colt of unusual size, frantically looking for what the stallions were bawling their eyes about. Someone had to have been smiling down on him that day.
In a sewer grate, several feet away from the scene of the accident, glittering light from the afternoon sun drew him. Glancing about to ensure no one was watching him, he ducked down, horn already lighting up. It looked like something a queen would wear. Just inside, he could have reached it with his hand instead of telekinesis, was a bejeweled necklace of amethyst and sapphires, with one large sapphire in the shape of a rounded triangle as a pendant.
He snatched it up and jammed it into his pants before he could think. Looking at the crowd again, it seemed everyone was still too focused on the scene before them, thus not noticing his theft. Nervous, he tried to walk normally away. But with each step, his pace quickened, nerves getting to him. He had not realized he had gotten home till he shut the door of his room, his back resting against the door.
There were, of course, newspaper articles from one of the stallions. Mr. Hornwrite was offering ten thousand bits for the return of his grandfather's necklace. Which made Orion feel kind of bad until he noticed the forge date on one of the gold links.
It was made last year.
Guilt gone, he broke the necklace down into its basic materials. A surprising amount of diamonds, small as they were, ended up in his little box of collectibles. Plus, he got more gold to go with his current stash. Diamonds for enchanting had some uses but weren't very necessary, so he was likely to just flush them later. It was a shock to learn that colorless gems tended to be the least compatible or valuable in crafting.
Finally, he had everything.
He would, unfortunately, have to wait until summer. Because likely, this would exhaust what meager magical ability he had quickly. No sense in trying this tired from school exercise by an over-eager Mr. Cloverleaf.
Sweat poured from his body. Other than Orion's labored breathing, the only other sound's were the steady flow of water in the underground waterway he had decided at the last minute to move to and the distant muffled clop of several pairs of hooves muffled as they were from above.
The realization of how hot the little storage room was going to get made him scout out another location. There was no sense in risking fire and alerting all of Canterlot that he was up to something suspicious as the orphanage burned down around him.
With that in mind, he had initially sought out abandoned buildings in his area. That ended up being a bust as Canterlot did not seem to have the same struggle as Stalliongrad. This cut down his limited options, as he mused his decisions, which there was only one, the third plate. At that moment, he kicked a stone that made a “sprong” sound as it bounced off a metal grate leading into the sewer system below.
Curious, he peered in.
The sun had fallen to near dusk, but what rays were available gave pretty good illumination to the dry passageways that bordered canals flowing with water. As he looked around, another idea took root in his mind. It was isolated, with plenty of water if things went wrong, and if a fire did start, no one would see it. He didn't wait very long. When the rest of the orphanage's residents bedded down that night, he crept out of his window on the second floor and down the sturdy wooden lattice where Mrs. Evergarden's tomato plants were just beginning to climb up.
There, just behind the garden hedge that blocked off the view of the alley, was a sizeable ponyhole cover. Unfortunately, it took almost an hour of effort before he loosened the bolts holding the cover in place. When horse people want something to stay, it stays.
Soon enough, he had the thing off, him down, and the cover back on again. He had somehow forgotten that there would be a smell. Gagging, he proceeded to explore the tunnel system that had always been underneath him.
It didn't take him long to discover an old storage chamber of sorts. The door, constructed of iron and brass, had the remnants of a lock corroding on the carved stone ground in front of it. That was promising.
Pushing the door open with an earth-rending groan from the hinges that left him wincing, he lit up a ball of flame above his horn and stepped down the three steps of stairs to briefly explore the relatively empty room.
It was surprisingly dry inside, the odor reduced, or he could just be getting used to it. The one long stone table built into the wall itself and a wooden chair that still seemed to be in excellent repair. There were also two crates that looked to be a little worse for wear yet still serviceable. They were both empty save for the mound of dust inside.
However, none of that truly mattered to him, for the one thing he was looking for had been found. Aside from the unoiled hinges, a layer of dust and detritus an inch or so thick had greeted his hooves the moment he stepped inside. No one had been here in what was likely years. It was perfect. Or as close to as he was hoping for. There was even a vent at the top.
It didn't take him long, and over the course of three days at the tail end of June, he slowly moved all of his equipment to a dry, if cold and unused, section of the sewer system near the orphanage.
Orion supposed that the chamber had been meant as a staging ground for supplies and planning during the founding. There were several spots on the walls that held evidence that something once hung there. Now it was decorated with a corkboard, a small shelf full of books, and a calendar he would have instead thrown away for its flowery appearance alone but now needed it to plan out his days.
So, he sat on an old rickety chair over the stone table. The storeroom was a lucky find for sure, but it held heat far too well, sweat-drenched as he carefully let the gold drip into the center of two pieces of metal he had made. All while weaving the simple spell he had chosen for his first attempt.
Orion had decided to go with a spell used by blind unicorns, either from birth or accident, that allowed them to see the world in some manner.
"Presence" was not his first choice, but "Detect Life" would only track living movement rather than everything. Thus, Presence would have to suffice for this first foray into a school of study long since given up on by others.
From tests using average unicorn casting methods, he was given a not quite three-dimensional image of his environment about ten feet around him was projected in his mind’s eye. Not bad. Honestly, the spell was cool as hell on its own and made him think of himself as Daredevil for a little bit. Low in mana draining, even he could maintain it all day if he wanted to. He could see why it was a popular one. The only downside to him was the fact that everyone knew what you were casting. Because it was so weak in terms of power and complexity, you couldn't invert the spell and hide it.
Should this enchantment work, no one would see a damn thing nor detect it unless they were using a very powerful sensor spell. Even then, the power draw would be so small it would likely pass notice.
Not to mention the menace known as Twilight would no longer startle him with her sneaky ways.
Setting the final pieces, two thin steel rods that acted as pins to hold it all in place, it was done.
Sagging in relief as he released all the spells he had been holding, mopping sweat from his brow with a worn rag, he stared down at his creation in triumph: seven, a new spell holding record for him.
It was small. More petite than he had planned for, but it was perfect. It was a small cylindrical metal hair bead about an inch and a half long. A little Phoenix had been etched into it for shits and giggles. He did a relatively decent job of it.
Inside was where the magic was. Trapped between the two metal tubes, in carefully carved grooves, was the coil of gold, shaped more like a circuit that he was familiar with. With it was attached a sliver of amethyst; it had been the slimmest piece on the necklace. It looked seamless, and if not for the now unseen pins, it would fall apart the moment anyone poked it, but those little rods had been fused with a little application of heat.
Taking a deep breath, his unsteady hand reached out and took it from the stone tabletop. It was warm, but not hot. Slipping it onto a few strands of hair deep in the crest of his mane, he fasted it with two small knots. One above and one below, he gave it a few shakes to make sure it would stay.
Satisfied, he took another breath, then another. This was nerve-racking, to say the least. "Fuck it." His horn lit up, and he connected the gem to the local thaumatic field.
Pain wracked his mind in a tidal force of fury, turning his stomach in knots and making his veins feel like they were on fire. In his panic and pain, he had momentarily forgotten how to separate the connection and attacked the bead instinctively.
Finally ripping it free, he collapsed in agony on the dirty stone floor of the old storeroom. His ragged breaths could not be heard due to the force of his blood pounding in his ears.
Minutes went by before he attempted to stand, even to try and sit on the overturned chair he had been balanced precariously on, but before he could even rise, he began to laugh. Deep chuckles turned into almost manic jubilation as they echoed back at him.
It had worked!
For one brief moment, he was aware of the movements of every single soul within hundreds of yards of him—even the very structures of buildings and standing walls in a vague static way.
But his mind could not handle that much information for longer than that single moment.
He touched his face near his nose, and in the low illumination of candlelight, blood glistened wetly on his fingertips as his hand came away. He could feel wetness in his ears as well.
"Oh boy…" he croaked. He did some real damage there. "Hope that's not permanent."
He would have to scale it back. That would be easier than the initial effort of actually crafting. It was nothing to reduce the power of a spell.
A grin began to grow on his face.
Orion Falls, the first pony, human, thing, in over a thousand years to enchant. His gaze fell onto the copied notes of Bearded Star, scribed by one named Clover.
"I wonder what else you got…" His grin grew wider, teeth flashing in the candlelight.
Author's Note
AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
Okay, so first and foremost, I apologize for being a day late. My editor recently went on a schedule change and its fucking them up working so early in the morning. They only have to put up with it for the rest of this week and they should be back to normal by the next.
This chapter was more difficult to put together as you will soon read. I had to come up with a way to make it work and had gone through several drafts before the one you will now read had been settled upon.
I want to thank you for sticking around with patience. As I had announced before, I have artwork coming for Orion's journey. The cost was higher than I expected but I don't mind footing the bill.
Also, I am making a MAP. Awww yeah, that's right. A mother buckin' map. I'll will begin posting updates of my progress this weekend on my Kofi. So if you want to have a gander take a look.
Well, that is all for now. I will leave you to it. Please remember to leave a comment, and if you have some spare change, consider sending me a donation on my Kofi . It would really mean a lot and will help me better finish this gargantuan task I have foolishly undertaken.
Peace!
Anvil and Hammer
Early morning sunlight poured into the open kitchen windows. With it, came the fragrance of the garden's flowers in full bloom. The floral aroma made a great blend with the scent of coffee intermixed in the air. A glorious summer morning all things considered. The shouts of foals in the halls, all babbling in excitement, reminded him of the last five years of school.
Five years since that fateful afternoon in the dusty secluded aisles of the castle's library in which he found his salvation. Of sorts.
He shook his head ruefully, causing various beads of wood and metal clinking together, as he picked up his mug of coffee. Taking a sip of the pure black liquid, he mused over something that had only recently occurred to him.
There were no bees flitting about in the kitchen despite the honey cakes and sweet treats Mr. Dumpling was making. The trays were even sitting in front of the open bay windows, unmolested.
The gray earth pony stallion in a pastel blue apron and kitchen clothes, was a whirl of activity in the moderately sized kitchen, as he was most mornings, and on this fine Saturday he was in an exceptional mood. Hell, all the staff were.
It was adoption day.
Mrs. Evergarden had long since made it her mission to get as many foals adopted as possible, just like any other orphanage. The difference was that she would arrange for a day where all adoptions were finalized. This meant some would have to wait on others, but it made it so no one felt left out as others were accepted into their new families. This also gave the same benefit for those herds that had some distance to travel before they could arrive to pick up their chosen foal.
The result was a party every three to six months that usually cleared out the entire orphanage. Usually. With Orion living there it had not happened in years. Much to the Matron's disgruntlement.
As often was the case, he was happy to see all the kids go to loving families. They needed it far more than he.
What he didn't like was having questions directed to, and about, him. The lack of any herd's interest in him was constantly brought up. Which then would evolve into more than a few, high on the experience of taking a new foal into their lives, offering to take him in as well. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he had hissed at the last herd to try.
That must have been an image.
The hope in Mrs. Evergarden's eyes when this would happen would make him groan audibly. Because he would be forced to crush that hope with the sledgehammer that was his mouth, every single time.
It still happened, but now he had a reputation. He was known as the "Unadoptable". A funny name, but certain herds would not be dissuaded and the more assertive mares would attempt to bully him. This of course ended with him doing the worst possible thing and ruining what was supposed to be a great time for everyone. Now he stayed in the kitchen or his room, away from the gatherings.
Besides, he didn't know these kids beyond being given tutor status on occasion when they needed help with an assignment. He still didn't know how the hell Mrs. Evergarden roped him into that assignment.
Orion had long since given up committing to memory the names of fillies and colts that lived briefly within the walls and halls of his permanent residence. He had become to them, from what he had overheard during the testing of a spell, an aloof creature that rumor said devoured the flesh of animals and foals, haunting the halls at night. He wondered who spawned that particular tale.
"Colt if you let those crepes burn I will tan your hide!" The light lilt tone of Mr. Dumpling, was at odds with his word usage.
His concern for the light breakfast treat was unfounded of course. The recipe had been easy once Orion had remembered exactly how to make it. And he was in the process of making three at a time with the practiced ease of a master.
"Relax D, I got this under control." He snarked back with no real heat. "Besides, you don't even know the recipe to begin with."
Apparently no one did. A pleasant surprise considering how sugar happy the species was. Unfortunately, this meant if he ever wanted something sweet for himself that wouldn't put the colt into diabetic shock, it would have to be made by him specifically.
"I know, and I told you not to call me that." His cooking companion huffed back. "I won't have you ruining a day like today with burnt food, and I will wheedle out of you that recipe one day!" He mock scowled at him that eventually morphed into a broad smile.
They both grinned at each other before heading back to their tasks. The two had an easy relationship of casual insults. A surprise for the black colt considering how most ponies behaved and viewed him. Mr. Dumpling just let him cook when he needed to and came down hard if he forgot to clean a pan. Otherwise, it was the request for crepes on occasion that often found them working together.
Truth to tell, Orion didn't need to even pay attention at this point. After the third request he ended up creating a spell just for this particular recipe. That left him free to decorate as finished bases flew through the air, folding as they cooled, and then landing on a plate to be used in the next dish.
His mind drifted back to the bee problem. From his place in the kitchen, he could sense where they were thanks to the enchantment hidden within the multitude of random braids and regular beads, both metal and wood, strewn about his mane.
After that first night he had been very careful and learned quite a bit. Such as the fact that any type of shield or filter spell interferes with the "Presence" area of detection. Not that it didn't work at all, but the shield spells six inch distance from the body made it fuzzy and blurry to his mind after surpassing that boundary. Anything inside those six inches could easily be detected. Making the combo useless.
Further reading of Bearded Star's work showed that spells operating on the same magical wavelength could, and would, interfere with each other. Which told him he now had limits to what he could do with certain creations combinations. So much for his imagination being the only limit. That had been naive thinking.
He shook his head again. His mind really was wandering away today.
"Bee problem, or lack of one, stay on task genius."
He had done a scan. There was no magical spell on any of the windows. Nor doors, or even around the building itself. Nothing he could see had been done to the wood. So, what was keeping the bees out of the kitchen?
"Hey, D?" He ignored the stallions' grumbles about his nickname. "Why are there absolutely no bees in the kitchen? Or hell, the Orphanage in general. For that matter flies too now that I'm thinking about it."
"You mean in all that fancy schmancy schooling you don't know?" The humor was clear in his voice, including the smug. The smug was thick.
"Cut the shit man, I've already determined that whatever is going on is not magically based. That's why I am asking you."
There was silence for a minute, Orion was too busy to turn around, but he thought Mr. Dumpling was laughing silently at him.
"You mean to tell me they don't have a class on plants and their effects?" There was a note of disbelief. Okay maybe he wasn't laughing.
They did not actually. Oh they had a natural science course in which they discussed the various plant species native to Equestria, but from his two semesters in it they had never discussed their effects.
"Yeah, no. They don't have Horticulture." He laughed. "Likely they believe magic is the be all end all of illnesses and disease. They don't see the point when they can eliminate problems with an accurate application of a spell, after all."
Unicorns as a race are rather arrogant and ignorant lot. Striking sparks with the other two races that populated the nation on a daily basis. That's not to say all of them were douchebags, but Canterlot seemed to have attracted the worst of the worst in terms of pretentiousness.
"Ah, I see. I suppose that would be the case. Not many see past their horns." He gave a caged look, as if wondering if the veiled insult would affect him. When he showed no sign, the older stallion carried on. "But going back to your question. It's really simple, and mostly cooking ingredients."
That got Orion's attention. Cooking ingredients?
"My father taught me that peppermint oil, a little vinegar, some spiced pepper, and a little soak, can keep the worst of insects from crossing the borders of your home." He ran a thumb along his jaw, a thing he liked to do when teaching him anything.
"So what ya just slop it on the doors and windows?"
"No, no, my colt. I soak it into the wood frames. Usually with a long cloth soaked in the concoction, I secure it to the framework for about a day or so. Once done I'm done. Normally it lasts for a year as long as you don't live in a place heavily favored by rains."
"Huh. Neat I suppose, mind showing me how to whip it up for myself?" It was a pretty good idea, and with no mana draw necessary it seemed like a better alternative than having to waste time on a dispel that he would likely have to cast daily.
"You'd want to learn old earth pony secrets?" Dumpling chuckled.
"If it's better, and saves me time, I don't see what's wrong with learning a better approach to a problem."
Silence.
Finishing the last crepe he turned around to see the old stallion looking at him, not skeptically, but in wonder.
"I figured you were messing with me, you really wanna know?"
"Why wouldn't I? I'm getting tired of chasing the bugs out of my room." It was the wrong thing to say. The stallion's grin lit up his eyes.
"Well maybe if you didn't have those little accidents in the mornings maybe they wouldn't invade your room all the time." He chortled.
"Hey it was puberty, and I haven't had that problem in over a fucking year you asshole!" He hissed. His correction did nothing to stop the chortle from turning into outright laughter.
Orion had forgotten all about the idea of puberty. Or the effects for that matter, and when it decided to hit him, it made his life a living hell for two years.
The first morning it had happened he wondered why his sheets had felt so slimy and disturbingly cool.
Peeling them back revealed a disgusting mess that made the air in his immediate area smell like straight chlorine. The knowledge that he had a wet dream in the night brought with it an even more horrible realization, he was going through horse puberty.
Worse, in comparison to humans, colts' normal amount far outstripped the latter. Resulting in what looked like an entire half gallon had been dumped in his bed nearly every fucking night.
For the next six months it was an everyday event that he ended up washing his sheets before school. Worse, Mrs. Evergarden had known what was going on and had been sympathetic to his plight, but that meant everyone knew of what was going on.
Which also meant both Chip and Mr. Dumpling had ammo to use on him whenever they wanted to embarrass him.
None of this was helped by the silk sheets that were now the standard for "Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals". The soft material likely made it worse.
Then there was school and public life in general.
Smells that didn't affect him before were now hammer blows to his nasal passages. Sitting in class was agony, as he would sprout wood at the first scent of anything feminine. It was a complete mystery as to how the hell these people lived with it.
Thankfully he had discovered a spell that would deaden his sense of smell for a few hours per cast. It had been a lucky find.
During a walk from home, Orion stumbled across city workers in matching overalls preparing to head down into the sewers. As he got closer, he could hear them complaining about a busted line.
Suddenly one of them began casting a spell, not bothering to invert it, and he watched in fascination as a blue hue settled into their noses and faded. "Mortuus Sensu", muted the sensitivity of the targeted sense. Its original purpose had been used for combat applications, but like many things originally used by any military, it found a home in civilian sectors.
Much to his shame when he was practicing the incantation, his thoughts drifted to its original purpose, and he ended up blinding himself. For the next three hours he bumped and tripped into various objects in his room.
He was reminded painfully as he bashed in his shins, knees, and face, that intent is just as important as the math when it comes to casting.
That following Monday, it became quite clear to the few colts that were in his class that something was different. Unlike them, he no longer looked nervous, nor bit his lip in suppressed agony.
It didn't take long before the first one, Magnetic Field, to approach him with curiosity. He pushed away a spiteful thought about withholding the spell, no one deserved to suffer as they were suffering.
An hour later, and the colts of class were breathing easy and able to focus on their class assignments fully once more.
This seemed to piss the fillies off. He suspected they had already been informed why the boys were all uncomfortable and took cruel delight in their plight.
Mr. Cloverfield applauded Orion in his resourcefulness when he found out what he had done. But warned them all that if they used the spell constantly, they would never get used to the scent of mares. So with moderate applications, he and his fellow colts would last as long as possible before finally building up enough of a tolerance that they no longer needed it.
There was still the occasional whiff that would catch him by surprise, but other than that he was fine. Orion now only wished to beat the black manned stallion in front of him with a rolling pin.
"Right, right. That was years ago." The sarcasm. Dripping. "Well since you seemed to be done you can take your share of the….I see you already arranged your breakfast. Should I tell Daisy you'll be up in your room?"
"Naw I'm gonna take a walk after I eat." He replied, already lifting a pastry to his lips as he walked to the door.
It was a newfound freedom he was very grateful for. At fourteen years of age he was now permitted to be out on his own, within reason, and that Mrs. Evergarden or one of the staff knew where he would be at.
"Where will you be headin''?"
"Honestly, I think I'll be ambling along the Artisanal Quarter again. It's Saturday, so there may be some sales going on." That of course, wasn't the reason for his going.
Oh there was a sale, and he was going to the Artisanal shopping center that was also certain. But his destination was a blacksmith shop on the lower east side. That area, while tidy and neat, was considered lower class due to the amount of others living there. Others being non-pony races.
It had been a recent encroachment for ten or so years, something ponies and more specifically, unicorns, were not very happy with. They couldn't really stop it however, and several successful entrepreneurs had made their mark on the second plate.
The one that he had in mind was a smithy run by a father and daughter that happen to be minotaurs. "The Thrown Shoe", a rather inauspicious name, specialized in such designs as fencework, ironwork, and of course horse shoes. Or pony shoes in this case.
There were also examples of wrought iron window work. From the vantage point of passing by the establishment on more than one occasion, he could clearly see the care and passion that went into the pieces on display.
There were other enterprises like theirs in the city. Most on the third plate.
The problem with choosing one of them, was that they were set up for a kind of mass manufacturing. He needed individual instruction and he didn't want to apprentice to a shop that would work him to the bone, and might still not allow him a chance to make what he wanted. And becoming an apprentice was the last option as that would pull time from his studies.
Orion's hand grabbed at crepes no longer on his plate and he sighed heavily. He was eating too much. Chuckling, he placed the plate on his desk and began to rummage through his wardrobe for appropriate wear. "The red shirt?"
Searching for the elusive t-shirt, his mind drifted back to the larger problem.
There was also the issue with the shops on the second plate. All the smiths, save for the "Thrown Shoe", were owned by unicorns. With what he planned to do, had to do, they would know immediately what was up. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in his mind that they would rat his ass out the very day they figured it out.
That left Master Forager, and his forge.
It was not an appealing option either but it was as good as it was going to get, he saw no other choice but to approach the minotaur. His attempts to make what he was seeking required certain equipment he just did not have, and he didn't want to make any mistakes.
His first experiment a couple of years ago proved to him that telekinesis was not the solution.
So, for months he had been working on his pitch, how to word it without arousing suspicions. Even if he wasn't a unicorn, there was still a massive risk involved in this.
Just how much should he chance was the real question.
He had visited the establishment nearly a dozen times now. Asking questions on metal working and proper heating techniques, and had learned quite a bit, and he was beginning to think he had impressed the old bull with his own knowledge of the craft.
His own private little hole in the wall down in the sewers had begun to resemble more of a forge now than it had before. With the added boon of the ventilation system Canterlot employed working to his advantage, no smoke gave his location away. Instead, air pathways had been routed through the tunnels to expel noxious fumes into the waste water before it all was purified by the filtration plants.
Shaking his head he stuffed a coin purse with extra bits just in case he got hungry. If he kept thinking about luck running out he would talk himself out of doing this. Again.
Besides, he was confident that if shit really did go south, he could always run. He had long since made a bugout bag and left it in his hideaway along with a near completed map of the sewer system itself.
If he was being honest with himself, he was only semi-confident. This was a major gamble just asking the things he was. Had it not been for the fact that he had hit a brick wall in terms of crafting he would not even be doing this.
He absolutely had to have the use of Forager's forge and higher quality steel.
Taking his now empty plate, from where he had left it on his desk as he got ready for his outing, he left his room and locked the door. Being a long time resident had its perks.
Making his way back to the servants' stairs, Orion passed by an empty room and stopped.
There had still been no real replacement for Thorny Branch as of yet. The mare had left the same year she had been hired on in November. No reason given other than family issues and needing to head back west.
It had been a weird goodbye. As she took a step out the door, she looked back at him and a soft smile broke that usually stern expression.
"I think…you will do quite well."
It had stunned him then, and still did so now thinking about it.
During the rest of the fledgling summer and the first couple of months of fall, she had been downright social with him. It was bizarre as hell, and just when he was getting used to the change, she left.
He eyed the door again and sighed. He supposed it didn't matter in the end. Not really.
Turning he bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen to deposit his plate.
Waving bye to Mr. Dumpling he moved out into the hall connecting to the front of the room and smiled as he spotted Mrs. Evergarden amongst a group of newly minted parents. Their eyes locked and he mimed painting to give her an idea of where he was going. She nodded and he waved bye to her as he stepped out the door.
He hoped they liked his crepes.
"Father, that colt is back again." Duula, his daughter, called from the counter at the front of the shop. It was mid-morning, and business was slow. She had opted to attend the storefront, selling off the various busy work pieces they had done together, while he worked the forge for the small projects that had been ordered earlier in the month.
Shoes in this case. Fancy and easily made shoes for ponies with far too many bits and less wits to manage them.
At his calf's call he gave a start. Then a low chuckle. "Back again with more veiled questions, eh Lad?"
The colt was interesting to say the least. Standing at almost six feet tall, the pony was nearly as tall as most stallions double his age. But it wasn't just his height that drew attention.
For a unicorn he was impressively built, his shoulders close to an axe handle across and heavily muscled.
His fur being black as coal would be off-putting for most ponies as they preferred brighter colors, but given Forager's own two toned fur pattern of black and dark brown he felt like the foal was a kin of sorts.
Looking over his shoulder and out into the crowds he could just see him, red orange mane like embers of a forge, bobbing in the press of shoppers perusing the displayed goods on the street.
He was still waiting for the pony's request for apprenticeship. For some days now he had already known what he wanted and had decided to accept him. In fact if he didn't ask before he left today, he would make the offer himself.
Orion Falls was a sharp one. His questions, that poked and prodded at his own knowledge, seemed designed to reaffirm what he already knew. He had an incredible understanding of heat standards, and knowledge of how different types of metal could work together.
His strong arms and shoulders indicate that he relied far more on his physical prowess than the magical one he was born with.
Add that all together, and any smith worth his weight in ore would be a complete muppet to pass up what could be a promising up and coming blacksmith.
Standing up he snatched up a mostly clean rag and started wiping the soot and oil from his hands. With that done he tossed the cloth onto his shoulder and shrugged. The leather apron gave a tug on his fur and reminded him once more of the replacement he would soon have to purchase.
It was so hard to find good leather in this city.
Orion stepped into his shop and blinked to adjust his eyes to the darker interior.
"Hey Mr. Forager. How's the old hammer swinging?" He chuckled, and the old minotaur joined him. The tongue on this colt was unusual considering the innuendos he dropped into casual conversation and always startled him briefly. A far cry from the more prim manners of his society.
"It is swinging just fine, Lad. Come to play twenty questions with me once again?" He pulled out a pair of stools plopping one in front of his guest.
After that first visit he had decided it was best to sit when dealing with the foal. He could get quite wordy when he wanted to know something, and the old bull wasn't as young as he used to be.
Popping a button on the collar of his shirt, red today, the pony took the proffered seat with a rueful grin.
"Why dear, Sir. However, could you have guess?" Another round of shared chuckles as he pulled out a familiar little book of notes.
"Getting right to it today, eh?"
"Alright, Lad. Ask your questions, and I'll see how much I can keep from your prying tongue." He had to be careful too. There were laws in Equestria as old as its foundation, and his business would suffer greatly from violating one of those. And he would not want the colt to get in trouble either.
"So you believe!" He declared in mock offense. "Anyway, I was wondering…"
This was most certainly going to stretch into the afternoon, he caught his daughter's eye and wiggled a meaty finger, thick and strong from working with metal all his life, in a gesture for her to close up shop.
Duula just nodded and grinned in response. She too was pushing for Orion to be an apprentice; she was tired of getting all the grunt work after all.
It was indeed late afternoon when the black colt finally closed his notebook. Much to the old master smith's relief.
As before, he had been exhausting, and his questions more often than not came too close to secrets he could not share.
"And he knew it too. Definitely more dogged this time around."
Figuring they were done, Forager got up to fetch them both some water, they had talked far too long without a refill of the cups that sat at their hooves.
It was time. He needed to make his offer, since it seemed like Orion wasn't going to ask. Timidity in ponies was expected after all, especially stallions, and it seemed the black colt was not as different as he projected.
Coming back from the small kitchen in the back, he was surprised to see the foal standing by the door instead of still being on his seat, looking like he was fighting himself to stay or go.
"Lad. What's wrong? You looked to be at war with yourself." It was more than that, he had the look of a 'taur that had gotten trapped in the Maze, and knew for truth that he put himself there. "Lad?"
"I….shit. I had been beating around the bush about this for the past two visits. And I seemed to talk myself out of it every damn time." He muttered
Forager could only grin.
"Of course I'll take you on as an apprentice. Truth be told you have more knowledge than most of the muppets…" He trailed off at the slack jawed look on his face. It was not a look of delighted surprise. "That's...not what you want?"
"Ha! No. Though the offer is truly appreciated and under other circumstances would actually sound cool to learn. I'm...I'm afraid what I am after you won't be willing to help with, or at least not allow me to."
Despite Orion's language, he had some of the bearing of a noble pony. Maybe this work was beneath him, but still wanted to know what would be involved in his request. But if that were the case, why such intensive inquiries?
"I'm afraid I don't follow, colt. What is it your lookin' for?" He sat down and placed both cups on the floor once more.
If anything the poor colt looked even more hunted. Shaking his head several times, he came back over to the stools and took his own with a heavy, defeated sigh. Picking up the cup, he drained it.
Forager idly wondered how he would handle a real drink once he was older.
"Okay," he breathed out once done, "I need you to listen, and keep an open mind. It's gonna get a little weird."
That got his hackles up. The tone made whatever this colt was planning to say HIGHLY illegal. But…he was curious. And listening would likely not get him in trouble. So he kept his mouth shut, giving a nod for the colt to continue as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach.
"Alright, let's see…. Okay, imagine if you will, that there is a resource you need but for whatever reason it either no longer exists and you can't find it anywhere." His guest licked his lips nervously. "Suddenly, it appears again in an unexpected source, and conveniently very close by. Now would you horde this to yourself? Or allow everyone to use it?" He held up a hand as Forager's lips cracked. "Wait. There's more. If you allowed it to be available to anyone who needed it, you run the risk of your foes, detractors, to also have access to it. If left alone entirely it could have effects that would limit your own influence in the market. What would be your decision?"
"Well, that was certainly as vague as one could get, there are lots of resources that can be limited to somepony's reach. What could he…" Something connected the dots in his mind. The vague language, the pointed questions about the best metals and their purity for magic. The implications of what he was saying, and as the foal before him prattled on, he chased the thought into the recesses of his mind. "No, it couldn't be…" His eyes were widening, pupils becoming pin pricks and he could not stop them. Standing up he quickly backed away from Orion, nearly falling over his stool. "It cannot be! There should be none left!"
Alarmed, the black pony leapt from his own stool and backed up sharply as well.
"Lad, are you absolutely sure you're talkin' about what I think you are saying?!" His voice was tight with anger and worry.
A long silence stretched between them, each one looking like they threw themselves into the Maw.
Instead of speaking, Orion pulled a length of cloth from a pouch at his side and wrapped it securely around his eyes. Then he pointed off to the corner.
"There is a family of mice living in the wall there. About ten, but there were eleven about an hour ago. I remember a cat having crossed into the alley behind, and then running out with something in its mouth. I am fairly certain we can both guess what happened." He shakily told the minotaur.
Now, Forager wasn't the most adept at understanding the magic unicorns employed. But it was common knowledge that even inverted spells did not hide the glow of a unicorn's horn. Orion's held no glow.
"It's not possible. He has to have casted a spell before entering my shop!" How long could a spell last after a casting? The longer he thought about it, the angrier he became. Making him panic like that. A calf playing a game in hopes of appearing superior to his peers.
"I know unicorn tricks, foal! And I won't fall fer one of yers!" He roared, causing the pony to jump. He ripped the blindfold away. "You know what?" He loomed into the pony's face. "Yer gonna prove it to me." The accent of his home had begun to lace his voice and he did not care. The nerve of this calf! Trying to make claims to what amounted to a very poor joke. An insult! All the time wasted over him!
He reached out and snatched him by the arm and pulled him toward the back of the forge.
"Wha- Hey?! Let go over me you giant fuck!" Ignoring his protests, he dragged Orion into a back store room just down the hall from his personal rooms and shoved him toward an old table covered with a heavy cloth.
Long ago, when his great-grandfather had first come to Canterlot, the Princess herself gave him a platform. A "Portal Gate" she had told him. Asking if he could somehow repair it.
He couldn't of course, as what was involved was one of the lost arts of Equestria. His grandfather had not been gifted in it at all.
But instead of taking it back, she asked them to search for one who could. A vain hope to be sure as there was none in existence now. That had been some six hundred years ago now. And for six hundred years his family had made a token effort to find one that might repair it. If only for appearances.
He gripped the dusty tarp and ripped it off in anger, dust choking the pair of them before Orion's horn lit up, a pale gold and black, to stamp it back down.
"Jesus Christ Forager, the fuck is wrong w-" The minotaur's big meaty hand fully covered the colts mouth and nose.
"If you want me to believe that you can do that which you claim." His voice no longer shouting, yet still boomed inside the small compartment. With one hand occupied, he thrusted his index finger on his other at the ancient platform that had lain in near perpetuity, only being moved when the table itself began to rot and needed replacement. "You will make that work. Or I'll toss you out on your ear and notify the guards to the airs you're putting on. Let's see how you like the watch being set to hound you and your family."
In his agitation, he had begun to let slip his native tongue more and more. As before, he did not care, this foal would not be allowed to make a fool of him and his family. He shoved him toward the table again. Stepping back he folded his massive arms across his barrel of a chest, blocking the only exit.
Orion slowly turned around, a dark look on his face. The horn came aglow once again and the colt seemed to swell somehow. As if the muscles had taken on sudden mass. Forager's jaw set and he glared challengingly.
Neither pony nor minotaur said a word for long moments as the contest of who would blink first waged between them.
It was the colt that had finally given in first. He had seen the swirl of emotions and thoughts pass through those eyes. He was smart enough to know he was trapped. The look was now resignation, anger, and fear.
Turning around he looked at the gate.
"This fucking thing come with an repair manual at least?" Orion huffed heatedly. "The hell is wrong with it." He was touching it now, hands poking and prodding, pushing on any part that might be movable, his horn casting shadows as his aura followed suit.
"No. No manual. And we never could get it to open. We were told that it had fallen out of alignment with the ether. I don't know what that means, and neither did my great-grandfather who had first received it." He noticed the speculative look in his eye. "What, you actually think you can fix it?" He mocked.
"Maybe, I've never read of the ether, but I think that might be a layman's term for thaumatic field." He must have seen the lack of comprehension on his face, because he explained further as his horn lit up again and he did something to the platform. "It is an ambient magic field separate from all others. The ambient magic field actually, it flows through all life right down to the rocks and dirt beneath us. This device makes use of that field by drawing what is essentially an eternal power supply. The unfortunate bit is that the connection is never truly perfect, and requires regular realignment."
A pop and a hiss startled them both.
The Portal Gate was covered in irregular circle patterns, some interlocking, others running separate to anything else. At that moment, they were rotating rapidly, before suddenly stopping. Each ring no longer looking misshapen.
Forager's arms dropped and he gaped in open astonishment as the top of the plate opened up wide, revealing the inner workings for the first time in what must have been an age. His amazed expression, swung to the foal he had doubted.
"He….he actually knows? How?!" Who had taught him? Was it a family skill kept hidden from Celestia herself? Why would they do such a thing? Questions swarmed his mind like beetles on flesh.
"Please don't be broken, please don't be broken, please- Yes! It's a simple alignment failure. Thank God." He tapped a large ruby. "Okay, maybe not so simple, the regulator is cracked but it looks like it's an easy replacement. The coil was built on the outside instead of within, an interesting choice, but it means I won't have to figure out how to make a new one." Another pause as his hand seemed to trace a pathway through the machine. "Huh."
"What's wrong?" He could not help the pitch in his voice. He felt like a calf again going through his first season, his heart raced in apprehension.
"Wha-. Oh nothing. It's just interesting, is all. Whoever designed and built this, certainly had an artist's hand. Even if no one was ever to see inside, they wanted it pretty. Pretty, but functional." He turned to look at him then. "I can fix this. The power pack," he pointed to a collection of dark blue sapphires set in a row, "is fully intact." He pointed at the ruby which was the size of a goose's egg. "But unless you have a ruby roughly eight or nine grams weight and flawless, I'm not gonna be able to do anything till then."
It was surreal. Never in his life did he imagine that he would run into somepony who might actually be able to repair the Princess's gate. It had been an impossible idea, an inconceivable one. In that moment he was caught up in the excitement of the possibility.
Now here sat a pony, who not only knew how, but had approached him. His throat was dry from a lack of moisture.
Still, he needed definitive proof. He had to know.
"I…" he swallowed thickly, "I believe I have such a ruby."
Orion's eyes lit up in excitement.
"Well what are you waiting for then? You want proof, I'll give ya fuckin' proof!"
In short, if numb, order, Forager retrieved one of three rubies, one being just the right size, from the storeroom just past the one that held the platform.
Accepting it gleefully, the colts' magic flowed over it. "Perfect only one blemish and it's so minor I don't see it actually affecting it at all. The original had like twenty, though those might have formed from use." He chuckled as he yanked the old one out and tossed it over his shoulder to clatter on the floor. "It's funny. The notes I had read said that it had to be perfect. But I think now that might have been the original author's own desire for perfection."
A click sound, and he stepped back.
"Okay, the moment of truth." His horn's glow went from gentle and soft to almost a transparent violent flame of gold and black intermixed with one another. To Forager's eyes it seemed a feeble light. "This is really gonna suck."
"Why?" The old bull asked worriedly.
"Because, I'm not very strong. This is gonna take a lot out of me." Grunted Orion. He bit his tongue and sweat began to bead on his forehead almost instantly.
An aura that mimicked his mana settled into the large blue sapphires, a crackle and then the gems took on their own glow, changing from the black and gold to the rich blue hues. The energy raced from there into the rest of the machine, changing colors rapidly as the filtered through unseen gems in a rainbow cascade of colors.
"Oh I see! That makes sense! Wouldn't want it to overheat after just one use...oh and there are different spectrums too! So the need for a change of color makes sense beyond just aesthetics." The colt's notebook was out again and he was writing for all he was worth.
The minotaur had absolutely no idea what he was going on about, and didn't care in the long run. As more of the gate's systems came online, he was struck with awe and terror.
Awe to see a true Arcanist in the flesh. Terror in what that would mean to the world at large.
The lid to the gate swung closed with a quiet snap. A hiss and a pop seemed to echo in the small room, as the circles that had at one point seemed carved, once again rotated back into their original places into seamless asymmetrical rings once more. Those circles were now softly glowing in a rainbow hue along their edges that pulsed across the plate. Was it done?
"Okay, it's in standby mode. It needs a test run to make sure the connection to the network is still good." He tapped the top on the right hand side, and two slim segmented curved rods rose from inside, accompanied by a soft clacking sound.
A projection of…something shot out the right most pole.
"Huh, holographic display? That's a surprise." He grabbed a box and dragged it over by hand instead of magic.
The blacksmith had noticed that throughout the repair the colt had been sweating profusely. It must have exhausted him to work on the device given his earlier declaration.
It made sense now why his body was so developed compared to his peers.
Clambering up the box and then onto the table, his hooves at first taking tentative steps, he glanced over the image, mumbling to himself.
"Well at least it's in Equestrian, old ass Equestrian. Best to leave the language settings as is. I don't have the time to modernize it, and likely wouldn't even know where to begin anyway." His fingers flew across the image, and to Forager's ears, there was a faint clicking noise. He had no clue what it meant but the colt seemed to take it in stride as if it was expected.
"H-how long?" He asked tentatively.
"Till I can test it? A few minutes. This is a surprisingly advanced piece of tech. I mean...holy shit I got a ping back! There really is an active node still out there. Hmm, looks like it's roughly a hundred and fifty miles away. Due south."
The only thing that was that far south was the Everfree. What could be in there?
"Well, that's a complication."
"What is?" Tired of standing so far back, the old minotaur stepped up next to Orion, looking around his torso.
The "holographic display”, as he had called it, was pulsing in the same rainbow colors as the energy that was flowing through the gate. The words gathering on the screen made very little sense. He was only able to understand one or two sentences fully.
He had never before seen its like.
"Well, it's a complication only for later, I should say. Once maintenance is done, I won't be able to activate this platform again without direct assistance from those with administration access. Meaning there is a lock on unapproved personnel using this. Hmm, “Sol Tu'vy Celeste” and a “Mor'sine Far Lunair”. I can only guess the first might be…Celestia…"
The color drained from the foal's ears, and his eyes grew very wide.
"Forager...where did you get this?" Apprehension was heavy in his voice.
He should have told him while he was waiting, he realized. Considering what was at stake now, he should have been forewarned at the very least. So with trepidation, he told him why this device ended up in his family's possession.
It wasn't really a surprise as to why the colt had gotten so angry after that.
"You know, there were better ways to prove my knowledge. Right?!" Orion rubbed his fist. No doubt worried that he might have sprained it.
For that matter, Forager's jaw felt like it had been knocked clean off.
The moment he had finished his blood's history with the gate and Celestia's involvement, the colt's horn had flared to life suddenly, and he did that strange swelling from before. Before the blacksmith could react, the foal had hit him so hard that he had been slammed into some old wooden boxes. Crushing them, and likely, the contents inside.
Clearly, he had underestimated the foals' abnormal strength and was now quickly realizing this pony was not only stronger than he thought, but dangerous. He could certainly throw a punch!
"I'm sorry, Orion. I didn't think you were capable of even knowing what yer lookin' at. Let alone fix it. Can't you just, unfix it?" He rubbed his jaw. It was going to hurt to eat for a while.
"No, I can't "unfix it!". He mimicked poorly. "I thought about trying to open it back up again to study how it all worked, but of course, there's an anti-tamper protocol of some sort. It keeps anyone from messing with it once it's repaired. A safety measure. That was one of the complications." He spoke heatedly.
"I am so sorry, Lad." And he was because there was more bad news though he knew not how to word it. Or if he should.
"I don't suppose there's a chance Marshmallow has forgotten about this piece of shit, is there?"
Forager winced. Straight to the heart of it, the nickname spoke in such a way that he knew who he had meant.
"She visits every couple of years…"
"And when was her last visit?"
"A couple of years ago…" he responded morosely.
"Obviously, that would be the case. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck!" He shouted, throwing his hands into the air.
"I won't tell her who fixed it. Once a month, I send out flyers asking for anypony that might have a talent for it to come in." His surprise that the foal in front of him did not use the usual verbiage of his people had long since been muted, but he still found himself slightly appalled at his tongue now. "I-I can tell her that the fixer never took off their hood or robe, and there was a spell disguising their face and voice. There would be no trace to you!"
It was truly the worst of scenarios, and he was a fool for letting it go so far. The colt tugged an ear and thought.
"You'll have to stage that, you know? To make it believable, have enough eye witnesses to see someone walking through the streets in the evening near here for credibility to the lie. Sooner the better, considering she could just randomly show up at any moment, times against us."
Forager nodded. He did know a griffon down on the third plate who owed him a favor and had been saving the bits to leave Canterlot for a while now. He could arrange something.
"I believe I have somepony for that task. They owe me and know better than to tell a pone, err sorry, what they shouldn't know. I hear he is headed back to Griffonia soon as well, so this will be perfect. For a bit, he will come in late evening and disappear. I'll have to find a quick map of the sewers below my home. There is an entry point in my basement that has been closed off for years. I'll loosen that and he can use that to get out."
Orion grinned.
"Yeah I know all about it. I have a map, I'll bring you a copy tonight. With Miss Thorn leaving a couple of years back I have an easy time leaving the orphanage at any given time now."
"Orphanage?!"
"Lad, you're an orphan?" He was shocked. The foals' bearing, and mannerisms spoke of wealth and privilege. Possibly even lowborne nobility.
"Huh, yeah I suppose my lack of a family never came up in conversation, did it? Well since we are basically becoming co-conspirators, I suppose there's no harm in telling you a little…"
What little there was, was a lot. Things were more than complicated.
"Personal friends with the Princess's student herself! And he is somehow on speaking terms with Celestia too!" The poor colt was mired in the thick of it, and had made it worse by seeking what was essentially forbidden knowledge.
But, Forager found himself actually impressed, even proud, of Orion. Despite everything, his disadvantages not being least, he had persevered where others would have long since given up. There was honor in that, and he would not disparage it. The risk he was willing to take to make up for his shortcomings was nothing short of commendable.
"Lad, I will help you in this thing. Tonight. You will come back here and we will set to making it. I have caused you problems I can not easily fix. Make sure to bring a copy of your map." He shook his head in disbelief.
The colt mentioned briefly that he had nearly mapped the entire sewer section for the second plate on his own. Including several pathways into the third plate. Near the ironworks. Resourceful.
Before Orion left, he turned back to the master smith, his eyes betrayed his worry on an otherwise neutral face.
"Telling you what I have, how can I trust you?" He gestured. "Other than the conversations we have had, you have no obligation not to flip on me and turn my ass in. What's to stop me from running, right now?" He asked soberly.
Forager regarded the colt in front of him. It was a valid worry. In his hooves he too would be concerned for what had been laid bare.
They had walked back into the main portion of his shop, the forge itself, and he looked at the now cool coals in thought.
"I was born in Equestria, Lad. But I spent my early years at home in Minos." He spoke quietly, resting a hand on his anvil.
"As riveting as your life might be, that doesn't answer the question, dude."
"I'm getting to that, colt. Patience." He raised the other hand placatingly. The pony just snorted at that. "As I was saying, I may have been born to the land beneath our hooves, but I am a minotaur of the Great Anvil. I trained, and I studied my craft there. I learned of honor and duty from the Fire Keepers of Hearthstone." He unsheathed his work knife from his belt. "I will tell you a thing, and by the Iron, I will tell you true."
He lifted the hand that had lain on the anvil head and brought the knife to his palm, and sawed into the flesh there. He had done this before, oaths to his daughter, to a worried mare on a pair of wedding bracelets that had cost her everything. Always a small cut from a finger.
The Oath he would make for this colt would be far more substantial. In his curiosity he had endangered the pony, and had heaped many worries on his shoulders.
The blood from his hand splashed across the anvil's surface.
"When a minotaur stains his anvil with his own blood, it is never wiped away, never scoured from the steel." He made a fist to slow the flow as tightly as possible. "We will oil over it, but never remove the evidence."
"Why?" He could hear the slight alarm in his young friend's voice.
"Because it reminds us of an oath. Every time we see that stain, we remember. Cuts heal. Time makes memories fade. But the anvil, Magna To'ka, gifted on our Haragu To'ka, our naming day, keeps the memories and our oaths." He turned to Orion. "No matter the path we choose, we all receive one."
His deep brown eyes locked onto the colt's ever widening gray ones.
"I make this Oath to you now. Marak goda mei savto. I, Forager Cresthammer, shall not tell a soul of what you have said to me. By my Blood, and my Magna, no one shall hear those words utter from my lips. Till Iron rusts, till hammer fails, this Oath shall I keep to you."
To say the little pony was shocked, was an understatement. The spilling of one's blood is considered abhorrent in pony society the world over. So his stunned silence was not unexpected.
What he hadn't anticipated, was for him to step forward and cut his own hand, a much shallower one than his own, and place it on at the base of the bull's own anvil.
"I don't know if this is a sacrilege or not, I don't have an anvil of my own. But…I …uhhh…" He frowned, and Forager waited. "By…my blood, and your anvil, no one will know of the help you have, and will, give to me. Till…hammer and iron fails. That's my Oath to you."
Rough, and entirely out of sorts, and more than a little sacrilegious, the master Smith couldn't help but smile. They were bound to the same secret, and he had a feeling this incredible young stallion was just as firm in his vow as he was in his own.
He nodded at the colt.
"Then we are bound to the same oath." He would not remove the pony's blood. While it would not remind the unicorn, it would remind the minotaur the courage and commitment he had displayed. "Now, you best get going if you are to see me tonight. Remember, the map. And get that treated. No sense in you getting sick."
Orion wrapped his hand in the cloth he once used to prove his abilities and nodded. Without a word, he left.
As Forager began to shut the doors to his shop, he chuckled to himself.
Orion Falls's original plan was to rob him of his tools. The chuckle became a bellowing laugh.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the wall had given way easily under his push. The old bastard had made sure to make it look like it had been a collapsed doorway filled with paved rubble.
He was surprised at how fast the blacksmith had worked in clearing the blockage to the sewer, though he shouldn't have been. Minotaurs were apparently known for the ability to build and forge just about anything.
Only earth ponies seemed close by comparison. Though they focused more on nature and rural communities rather than cities and iron.
Touching his satchel that he had brought with him for what was the thousandth time since leaving the orphanage that night. The map and a detailed blueprint of what he planned to make were still with him. As they had been every time he had checked.
It was dark in the basement, which was expected. Neither wanted to alert anyone of what was going to happen in the basement of the "Thrown Shoe" tonight.
Not that he really needed to see with his eyes.
Navigating the sewers and mapping them out had been a breeze thanks to the Presence enchantment. Not only had he known where he was at any spot down below, it allowed him to avoid sewer workers when they were out repairing breaks or inspecting systems, and darkened areas of the complex tunnels were no bar to his passage.
Walls and floors didn't have life of course, save for the occasional vermin, but the ambient magic in the air flowed differently through them than empty space.
He opened the door of the basement to a softly lit hall, the stairs at the end going up into the shop proper.
To anyone else, it would look as if the smith were getting some last minute work done. All for the better, the risk was already far beyond what he thought was sanely safe.
He flexed his hand. Mrs. Evergarden had been really upset with him when he had gotten back with that cut. The excuse that he tripped and fell on a sharp grate made her damn near lose her mind.
It was healed now, but he could still feel a twinge. Perhaps his own reminder?
Which only refreshed in his memory the reason for that cut. His mind drifted to the task at hand.
The Portal Gate had been an incredible study, however briefly, of the surprisingly advanced enchantments within the unit. It had been fortunate that he had gotten the opportunity in truth. Because he realized there had been several errors in his original design, errors that he knew would not work, forcing him to redraw his plans.
Instead of taking a nap like he should have, he had instead, busted his ass reworking the blueprints in his room with the new values being taken into account. He had finished long after the staff turned in for the evening. Thank God for summer vacation cause he was sleeping all day tomorrow.
Unless of course he was too excited to sleep. If this worked as intended, he might never sleep again.
Getting to the top he noticed with relief the windows had been covered up, and the forge was already lit, providing a breathy ambiance of secret works.
In the corner, an anvil sat with two ingots of metal, the hoped for steel, waiting. The anvil was different from the one he had bled on earlier, but it was the other two items that had caused his eyebrows to raise.
A pair of amethysts and a coin purse he could only assume was gold. Those purple gems were much larger than the ones he had brought.
"I figured those slivers wouldn't cut it for what you plan. So I figure we can use those. The bits, well, my flyer states a handsome reward after all for fixing that platform." He gave a rueful chuckle. "The night is waning, shall we get started?"
Orion only nodded. The moment he had been told they were for him, he had scanned the gems. They were not castaways. These were flawless.
Picking up the pair of ingots he shoved them into the fire with levitation alone, no need to use tongs when he had learned how to insulate the spell from being warped by the heat.
As Forager pumped the bellows, heating the coal and thus the steel, the colt stripped his shirt off and slipped on the leather vest and apron that had been set aside for him. The old Bull really had wanted him as an apprentice if he had already gone so far as to prepare like this. It was a shame he could not reciprocate.
A last second decision made him pick up a five pound hammer and tongs. Careful to ignore the thoughtful smile and nod from Forager, he tested the metal, as it had become white hot. The heat was making him break out in sweat just from sheer proximity alone.
Nothing in the book or his research said he had to handle the metal with magic. Just that he would have to suffuse his essence deep into the metal, gold, and gem. He had to bond them as if they were born as part of him.
What he was about to do wasn't entirely of Artification itself.
In his pursuit of correcting what was wrong with his ability, he had discovered it was a biological issue rather than a curse. His horn, flesh even, was not fully pony.
Hybrids like hippogriffs couldn't stay in the air as long as their griffon and pony parentage would have been able to. Instead they had discovered their ability to cut through the water making them excellent fishers and oyster farmers.
Their small nation of Neighbon bordered both the countries of Equestria and Griffonia. A cast of territory no one had wanted. What had been a collection of sleepy fishing villages, now had become the center of commerce and trade in that area, the Neighbonians proving to be more than competent merchants in their own right.
Orion shared much in common with that race that held two different species within their blood. And half of that was not magical in the slightest.
So he had begun to study anatomy. More importantly, how and why the unicorn horn worked the way it did. What he had found depressed him. He lacked, well maybe lacked was too strong a word, but he had less of a certain organ in his head that attached to the horn directly.
The Thaumic Gland was present in most intelligent life in this world. Ponies however, had a larger than normal one as compared to griffons or diamond dogs. Depending on what race you were, its location in the brain could either be on top, the frontal lobe, behind the horn itself. On the back, occipital lobe, nearest the wings while still being attached to the mind. Or at the bottom, attached to the temporal lobe. Which would be closest to what earth ponies could use.
Other races seemed to carry the same, in one fashion or another.
The Thaumic Gland allowed for the interaction between ambient magic, and whatever the race happened to be. Because of Orion's heritage, his must be very small, though he had not yet confirmed it with a doctor's visit. Surprisingly no one had seen to actually checking on that. Tonight, he was going to make sure they no longer had a reason to.
What he planned to make here, during what many would call the witching hour, was two bands that would interact with his own magic. Replacement Thaumic Glands as it were. Part one, was suffusing the metal in his genetic magic, raw and unfiltered.
Picking the steel up again, now white hot, he set it to the anvil and began to beat the steel into submission. Memories of his grandfather guiding his hands as sparks flew into the air around him.
His strokes were good. Steady and even. Almost as if he had been born with a hammer in his hands. Oh how he wished he could apprentice him.
It had been a surprise when instead of using magic, he had picked up the hammer and tongs instead.
The colt's horn, feebly fighting the light of the forge with its own glow, had already begun infusing the raw mana required into the metal he had begun to shape. He suspected no pony had ever thought to try something like this before, this was going to be something new.
They had measured his arms before he had left earlier in the day. His first idea of having a horn ring had long ago been abandoned before Forager had ever learned of it. Too obvious, and these must be hidden for the deception he had planned to work.
The arm bands had been decided upon because of one of his more interesting after school activities. Interesting in the fact that it wasn't common for a unicorn stallion, much less a colt, to choose to do it at all.
Orion Falls, save for Sundays, regularly attended a house of iron known as "Iron Wills Gymnasium". It was that main reason for the developed body he now bore. Many seekers of muscle used bands to measure progress, once they began to get too tight they would replace them for new.
It was impressive, and his dedication was clearly in evidence as each hammer stroke hit hard, with the same force being applied evenly throughout the metal as it began to take the shape of a large ring with the use of the horn at the end of the anvil.
One of the amethysts rose from where it had been moved to a bench, as well as several coins of gold from the pouch sitting next to the gems. The latter had begun to melt as it passed near the forge fire, impurities suddenly finding themselves dropping to the ground like so much refuse.
The old bull had to admit, that was impressive, more so to the fact that Orion's eyes never left what he was doing. As he thought about it, he realized he could not imagine the extraordinary amount of focus one would need in order to work material they were not even looking at.
Maybe it wasn't as much cheating as he originally thought.
Cutting the circle in two pieces, one slightly smaller than the other, Orion set about sizing them to fit snugly together as one piece. He must have planned this for months, the sureness in his progress never wavered.
Once completed, he allowed the metal to cool. But as it did, Forager could see the black and gold flames of his magic begin to make grooves into the steel. It was an agonizingly slow process to watch.
Several times he was forced to stop and put the steel rings back into the coals. To be banked up to an orange hue as his magic continued to twist the softer metal nearby into thin little wires that formed strange angular lines. At the end of each dead end was a tiny…something. It was then he realized that they were diamonds of all things. What was their purpose? Where had he gotten them?
The amethyst drifted over and was entwined in a complicated mesh of gold wire.
"Now, the tricky part." Muttered the colt.
Forager looked on in awe as the yellowed bands flexed momentarily around the goldwork and gem, then sealed themselves back at a torturous pace.
Setting aside the hammer and tong, the colt concentrated solely on the steel circle that was now slowly cooling.
It suddenly lifted, shaping itself perfectly oval. The heat it emminated lessened, but the brightness seemed to surge wildly for a moment.
Suddenly, and without any warning, the steel dulled, as if it had been done a day ago. The now completed band, unless he missed his guess, gently settled back down on the anvil. What had been forged as one, now only had a line running along the edge, on top and the bottom. How had he kept it separated like that yet still sealed perfectly?
Orion's breath was ragged. Sweat poured off the colt as if he had worked in the forge for twelve hours and no break. Perhaps it's not cheating after all to use magic in such a way.
"Lad, is it done?" He spoke up after a minute, surprised at his own hoarseness. He was nervous about the entire undertaking.
Wiping sweat from his brow, the pony straightened. "Only one real way to find out." He hesitated, and then picked up the ring.
The weak flame that was his magic transformed into a roar without sound. He dropped it even faster than he had picked it up.
"Holy fucking shit." He breathed.
"What was that?!" He had not remembered falling on his rear, but there he was huddled into the corner in surprise.
"That," still panting, "was a floodgate. I was already holding as much power as I could when I grabbed ahold of the thing." He chuckled. "Lets…uh let's try that again."
Magic winking out he picked up the ring again and slipped it over his right arm, nestling it right on the bicep.
"Gonna take this a little slower." His voice, barely audible now, shook slightly as he spoke more to himself than the minotaur in the room.
Remaining where he was planted, the old smith could only nod dumbly. He had, of course, expected something like this. Given earlier events and all. But this. This was in many ways an order of magnitude more impressive. Orion had developed this all on his own, from scratch, as opposed to following a blueprint already developed.
Once again the colt's horn began to glow. Instead of the feeble aura that always seemed to be barely there, now a solid mass of black and gold flame fought for supremacy between its own hues. Like a torch with no heat.
Balls of light blossomed around him. Five, ten, twenty. They grew brighter. Forager's head turned away from the display, and still the brilliant light grew. It was like being in the same room as the sun itself, even squeezing his eyes shut could not block it all out.
Just as it had begun, the light began to fade. Opening his eyes, he worried that he had been blinded, barely seeing the tack and tools on the walls around him. Blinking, his vision began to adjust, and he beheld something he never imagined this tough willed foal doing.
Tears streamed down Orion's face, past closed lids as he hung his head. A small smile on his face.
"Lad, it seems as if you've done it." He said as he heaved himself up into his hooves once more.
"Yeah…" In the colt's other hand, was a second ring. Already formed and, he suspected, finished. "Had to cheat on this one." He laughed. He laughed, and tears streamed down his cheeks in a flood.
Clean up had been quick after that. Unfortunately, in his haste he had melted the anvil crafting the second one by memory alone. The overwhelming amount of power he had never felt before had almost been too much to control. So of course there would be collateral.
To say Forager was upset was an understatement. But he didn't seem too pissed off. The anvil had just been a spare he had decided Orion would use rather than his own. Just in case there was an accident.
In any case, he had done it. He overcame his disability in spectacular fashion.
Laying in his bed, an hour before dawn he couldn't help but channel his magic again. In the mirror across from him he could see the powerful glow wrapping his horn.
His magic.
He couldn't help but notice that unlike many auras he had seen, his was the only one to look like a torch. The flame dancing on an unseen breeze was mesmerizing. He wondered if he had done something wrong to get that effect. No. Back in Manehattan he had starred in the mirror as he worked his abilities just to lift books. It had always been like fire. If far more transparent than it was now.
He would have to play this safe when revealing his newfound strength, no sense in arousing suspicion with a sudden explosive show. Though, he wondered just how strong he was now.
As eager as he was to get back into school, and more importantly, the newer studies he would now be able to explore he was still grateful for the rest of August to practice with his new enchantments.
He touched the bands. No scan should reveal their duplicitous nature. No one would be able to use them as they were tuned only to him.
One of the surprises, and something he had left out in explaining to the old bull, was that the anti-tampering matrix functioned in masking the entire unit. No magical scan he knew or read about would have been able to detect it. Only the maker would know where to open it up once again, and he or she was long dead.
Given the apparent age of the machine, and machine it was for all its magical properties, was old. Very old. Judging by the ruby he had pulled from the regulator, it could be five hundred years, or even a couple of thousand. No way of knowing without some kind of test.
Still, it was impossible judging from the way it was constructed to know its age. The book did discuss ancient devices that were thousands of years old. But if that were the case, where did it come from? How had the Princess gotten it? How had it lasted this long without falling apart? He only understood the very basics of the writing on that display, lettering he had never seen before dominated the user tab. What language was it? Just as worrisome, the ping. There was another out there still fully functional some hundred and fifty miles away. Still fully functional, that bothered him. Why was it still working when the other had ceased?
These thoughts also brought a last question. One of which despite everything anyone has told to him, including history books, he denied as lies and propaganda.
Just how old was Princess Celestia?
With a forbearant smile, Celestia listened to yet another inane complaint that really should have gone to the city Magistrate. That was what bureaucracy was for after all. Somepony else to shoulder the work that really didn't need her input.
Which is of course, exactly what she would tell this chit of a foal. The mare had actually thought she would somehow intervene in a fencing dispute. The nerve. This was beneath her. All of it.
"Lady Quartz. I must remind you that this is not an issue for this Court to mediate in." She said with the same practiced smile and poise she had perfected over the course of thousands of years. While inside she simmered. What she wanted to do was snatch the foal up and hurl her out of her courtroom. Out of the city if she was allowed to throw as hard as she wished.
But that's not the way things are done these days. Sadly, the moments of true contentions between ponies of true Noble hearts, who bared their blades to defend what was right was long lost to the past. She missed those days, there was an honesty to the political maneuverings of old.
Now she had to deliberate herd politics, and who takes priority for a stallion. Never enough of those in her opinion. The stallions, not the silly little arguments.
A pair of long molted horns caught her attention. Forager Broadhammer had someone entered her audience chamber without her noticing. Her facade almost cracked at the sight of the minotaur. She was not used to seeing him in a dress suit. Green and brown simple woolens cut in a high fashion for his people. What confused her further was the massive broad smile that threatened to break his face.
"What under the sun is he doing here?" She mused.
Behind him a squad of guards struggled with something under a tarp, it looked heavy judging by the strain on their faces. What had he brought her?
"Did I commission something?" That could be the only reason the smith would be here. But for the world she could not recall what.
"Princess?" The lady Rose Quartz spoke up questioningly, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
Suppressing an audible groan, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. It was rare for her to become so off target when it came to her duties, no matter how monotonous.
"I am sorry Lady Quartz," it paid to be nice even if you wanted to throttle somepony, "something had occurred to me. In any case, as for you, you will have to redirect your issue with the offices of Magistrate Varnish. This is his area of expertise, and through which the complaint on your fence originated." She chided gently. The simmer had become a low boil that she fought to control.
"Arrogant whorse." It was an unkind thought, but she hated having to go through the same song and dance. Each generation seemed to have to relearn the same lesson the previous one had learned. Repeated often as well in the case of her visiting nephew.
Dismissing her latest supplicant, she rose from her seat, and a gasp rang out. She wanted to roll her eyes.
It had become a rare occurrence when she would suddenly move from her throne during the middle of Court. Such happenings usually meant an emergency. She ignored the increased murmurs as she stepped from the dais with a graceful prance.
It was wonderful to stretch her legs.
"Master Broadhammer!" She called out in glee, the smile she bore was a genuine one if reserved, she was grateful for his visit, and more importantly, the interruption from the routine. "It is an unusual event to find you outside of your forge! What brings you here today, and with such a pleasant atmosphere?"
At her words, the master Smith paused, uncertainty in his eyes. Bowing low he averted his gaze.
Curious.
"Your highness! It is good to see you in such good health. Praise be to you, and the sun you grace us with!" That got appreciative sounds from the onlookers.
There had been rumors, as there always were, of her claims to be the sun's herald in recent years. Some with actual proof, not that the common pony could understand what it truly meant. In Forager's greeting, it reaffirmed to others his continued belief of her power over the heavenly sphere. Of minotaurs belief in general at the very least.
Silencing those rumors had been trying. She regretted having to put those that called her false, to the question then executed quietly, but she could ill afford the repercussions should anypony actually begin to believe them. She would not have the security of her nation risked because someone had figured out what they shouldn't.
Though she knew it was only a matter of time, she wished to delay that inevitably for as long as possible.
"Thank you my little minotaur, it is wonderful to see you in such good countenance yourself. If you would not mind me asking once more, what brings you to my Court this fine Thursday?" While happy with the distraction, she wanted this over quickly as Day Court would take even longer to get through than usual.
That uncertain look had entered his eyes once more. She had forgotten what actual fear looked like in a minotaur. Save for a few of the more adventurous or career driven, few left the isolated nation of Minos, so it had been a long time since she had glimpsed that look on any of them. Like a warrior knowing they may die today.
The last had been an unsanctioned assassination attempt some eight hundred years ago. She banished the thoughts away, where was her mind today?
"Forgive me, Highness. Normally I would wait and send word, but this was too important to let go a day. Last night somepony answered my flyer." He spoke clearly, yet slow, as if unsure of how to begin.
"Flyer? I'm afraid I don't understand." Most curious.
"Princess, as you know, you entrusted an item to my family many centuries ago." He began.
"No…" Her eyes widened.
"I, Forager Broadhammer, am pleased to return it to you now!" He beamed before shooing away the Guardsmares that surrounded the thick workmares' cloth.
"...impossible."
With a flourish he whipped the tarp off, folding it in quick rolls, and there sat the Portal Gate. The very same that she had first given his great-grandfather.
At first she saw nothing on the surface of that device. A slow pulse of green from a light near the right side caught her attention quickly, and she hissed through her teeth.
It was ready for activation.
Crossing quickly and channeling her magic, the brilliant golden glow suffusing into the ancient machine, she nearly jumped when it responded and deployed the main arcon bars. The display burst to life just to the right side.
"You fixed it...how?!" She rounded on him, Royal composure gone.
Caught like a foal with his hand in the cookie jar, all the master smith could do was gabble incoherently. Shutting his mouth and eyes for a moment, he breathed slowly before beginning.
"Last night, just before closing, a... individual? I don't know if they were pony or not. Came into my shop with one of my flyers. It was torn, and old. But they still held it."
So it wasn't him. Well perhaps it had been too good for the Artificer to be right in front of her.
"They wore a cloak with a hood attached, and despite the heat in my forge, never took either off. Their voice was garbled and even the lights from my fire could not illuminate what was under that hood. It was dead black, your highness."
He jumped and she smoothed her face. Now she knew why he had been so uncertain, so fearful. Forager had known she would not be happy with the news.
It was tempting to cast a lie detection spell, but as it had been one of those that had been purposely hidden away, she refrained. In private audience was one thing, but this would be another as public as it was.
She nodded for him to continue, and tried to smile, judging by his face it was a sickly looking thing. So she schooled her features to neutrality in hopes of easing his anxiety.
"A-as I was saying, your highness, I could not see who they were. Nor tell what gender they might be. I am so sorry!"
"Hush now, short of physically restraining them I don't know what you might have been able to do." They were the right words. But the simmer that had nearly vanished flashed to a boil, that threatened to flashfire. "Tell me what you can."
"Well, I uh, that is I took them back into the storeroom my family had kept the device for years, and told them what you had told my great-grandfather, Torlain." He fiddled with his coat's sleeves for a moment before continuing. "I have had pretenders before, but before I had finished my tale, they had opened the platform."
Her throat tightened. "They had already known how to open it?!" She nodded again, not trusting her voice to make a comment.
"They...uh they demanded a red ruby from me. Your highness, they frightened me so I gave in quickly. Before too long they had it doing just what you yourself has made it do." He finished in a rush. It was not fear, but terror that made him finish so quickly.
Taking a step back she eyed the gate device once more. There on the display, was her sister's gate, pulsing green like the ready light near the archon bar on the surface. She pressed the activation button.
A luminescent rainbow hue of light shot forth from both sides forming a massive oval between the bars. Through the multi-colored brilliance, the old library of the Castle of the Two Sisters shimmered into existence.
She felt the tears drip from her eyes as she beheld a sight she had last seen a thousand years ago.
"Wh-what hap….what happened to the creature responsible?" She could not help the waver in her voice. The anger from before had finally faded away, instead replaced with an emptiness that threatened to deposit her on the purple rug covered floor.
"They...they refused to stay, and after collecting payment, had left." Of course they would. Why she could easily guess. Being possibly the only one of their kind in Equis made them beyond valuable. The fact that they left so quickly meant they knew it as well as she.
After a certain amount of time, the portal shut itself down. Cutting the sight of her old home and her sisters darkened doorway from view.
She blinked away the tears, even going so far as to wipe some of them away.
"You saw nothing of their appearance?" Artification was an art any species might be able to learn. One of the few skills to be so. Celestia couldn't look at him, or anypony for that matter.
Her question got about what she had expected.
"No...your highness. Again I cannot…" Her upraised hand stopped him.
She could dig through his mind, she was sorely tempted to, but the action would leave him a vegetable. Besides, his fear felt genuine. While not so gifted in reading the emotional energies that rolled off a pony like Candace, it was plain on his face that he worried about his failure to discover the identity of this mysterious enchanter.
"Princess! Princess Celestia! What is all this? What was that?!" She wanted to grind her teeth.
Jet Set was an up and coming noble, one of the few stallions to hold a court rank due to his parentage. He was demanding, impetuous, and oftentimes rude to her station. Being male, he was protected by necessity rather than right from the harsher punishments she would give to a mare acting in the same manner. A fact of knowledge he took advantage of far too often. He had the mannerisms of the Pretty Stallions in the past. Though he did not have with him a coterie, nor did he abuse mares in that way. She shook her head.
Jet would have to be answered, not for his knowledge, but the entire hall would need to be informed. Rumor would soon get out, and best it be controlled now and sanctioned by her than for it to run rampant.
"Lord Set, I would appreciate it if you watch your tone." She couldn't entirely stop the growl in her voice. "As to your questions, this is a Portal Gate. This," she gestured with a finger, "is an enchanted item."
Of course there would be gasps of surprise from the onlookers. Every noble in the nation knew what it meant. But she finished for posterity if nothing else.
"There is an Artificer within the nation of Equestria. One, and by Master Broadhammer's account, that likely has already left the city."
The uproar shook the walls, the very windows, of the court. Had she been any less than what she was, her voice might have joined them.
"SILENCE!" It wasn't often Celestia used the Royal Voice. But she was not about to get a headache on top of the stress of needing to find this mysterious enchanter.
As one, the ponies and dignitaries all quieted. The absence of any noise made the stillness somehow louder.
"I shall make preparations to have a search sent out." Though she had little hope of them being found so easily. "I wish all here to alert your own houses and soldiers to make a watch in the towns and villages under your stewardship." She suppressed a sigh, the idea of involving them in this rankled. "There is to be a reward of one million bits. Royal Weight." She had spies in most houses, she would know if they found them.
Of course that spurred even more murmurs, fortunately they hadn't risen anywhere near the volume from before. The amount was massive, and her next announcement would likely produce a small rumble.
"Also a bounty of the same and half again for our mystery individual if they should decide to turn themselves in." That wasn't very likely if they fled to begin with. But if they could be motivated by money once, they very well might be again.
Once the small uproar had settled again she turned to Master Broadhammer. She ran the numbers in her head. She would have to adjust for inflation, and she blinked. That was a lot of bits she had offered originally.
"As for you, Master Broadhammer, I grant thee the boon of two million bits. Non-Royal Weight gold." Not as heavy, but still an absolute substantial amount of currency. "In service of the throne, and myself personally. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have given me back a piece from the past that I felt may have been lost forever. I am truly indebted to you and your family for the vigilance you all have shown." He would have to be watched of course, and interviews would need to be done to confirm his story. Not that she actually disbelieved what he had said, but it always paid to be careful.
Day Court would have to be dismissed. Her mind was in too many places at the moment to actually be of any use in deliberation. Not to mention there was so much to do now. The creature, likely a pony or so she hoped, had at least a twelve hour head start on her.
"Day Court is dismissed."
Maybe she could test Twilight with this working gate. After all, the filly's gift with magic was extraordinary. Maybe she wouldn't have to hunt down this Artificer after all.
Too many maybes.
"Okay, Jesus that's a lot of fucking cash." Orion had goggled at the idea of so many bits being offered for anything. Least of all himself.
Oh sure back on earth that was chump change. But here it was an entirely different matter. One could raise their own lordship with that much hard assets at their fingertips.
On top of that was what Forager had gotten, and holy shit that was somehow even more, if only just.
"Aye, Lad." The bull had been floored by the amount himself from what he spoke of. He was now eligible for retirement, and his daughter wouldn't have to lift a hammer again either. "But the important thing is that I think she believes what I said for true. And for that, all the better."
The colt shook his head, not that either could see each other, speaking through the false wall as they were.
"I wouldn't count on it. Be careful for the next couple of months, I'm afraid I won't be able to come in the front door anymore. Just to be sure." He paused a thought creeping in that had been plaguing him more and more. "Hey, is Celestia really as old as they say?"
There was a rough chuckle from the other side of the wall. "Why Orion, you don't believe in your Princess?"
In response he scoffed before replying, "Common folk have a habit of stretching the truth to fit them. Governments will reconstruct the past to suit them. Who or what is to say that the Princess hasn't had a bloodline carrying on a farce for over a millennia."
A pause. Longer.
"You don't trust anything do you, Lad."
"Not without verifiable scientific proof I don't. She's damn powerful, I know that just being in the same fuckin' room with her." That had frightened him more than he let on. "But for someone to claim; "she has existed since time immemorial", is too much for me to take at face value. The Great White Marshmallow has to have had a birthdate."
More chuckling.
"Orion, I met her when I was half your size, and I am much much older than I was then. I tell you the truth, she has not changed. Not a gray hair on her."
Wonderful, she might just be immortal after all. Well if he couldn't verify her status on age, he could at least debunk the idiotic claim they all made about her controlling the sun. That was absurd.
Well, it was now a waiting game. One he was not keen on playing.
"So, anything else or should I go before someone watching your shop gets suspicious about where the hell you went to. Oh, did your friend already leave?"
"Ah yes, he did indeed. Last night in fact, and as far as I know, no pony had stopped him. I gave him enough bits that he will likely make all haste to get back to that little village in the Garberithian Mountains in Griffonia. Given the amount of bits he's carrying, he probably won't even stop to preen."
The name of the mountain range gave Orion pause. "Certainly a mouthful. Was that to the east or north of the capital…?" He shook his head. It didn't really matter.
"Well let's hope he got over the border first before making a beeline to his, what do they call it? A roost? Nest?"
"Roost sounds right, though I admit I don't know for sure." The master smith chuckled. Seemed full of laughs today. Then again, he did just make two million bits in a single day so he supposed there was a reason for his mirth.
"Eh, there's no fuckin' griffon here to correct us anyway. So yeah roost, I hope he gets there, but for both our sakes he better have taken the advice you and I hashed out."
During clean up that night, he had made several suggestions on how his feathery friend could get across the border without being caught. Sneaking across at low light being prominent among those.
"Relax, Lad. He may have a drinking problem but he does know how to follow instructions." He changed the subject. "How goes…the practice?"
Orion opened his mouth, and shut it again. Truth was he was having difficulties controlling how much mana poured out. So far it was either bonfire horn, or sputtering uselessness.
Tweaking the bands now was impossible. Unlike with the Presence bead, everything had been molded as one. There was no way to pull it all out without destroying it. He was forced to either make due, or risk being discovered making another set that would be weaker.
The only upside to any of it was the enchantment not being wrapped around the entire circle. He had intentionally left space so that he could simply expand the muscle bands with more steel later on.
He would get bigger, both in height and in mass, provided he continued with the gym training. Which now, after so many years, he had come to enjoy the strain and burn from a few hours pressing iron or running the mill.
Besides, he was enrolled in a martial course that focused on a kickboxing style routine. Even had a few take-downs mixed into it.
Still the issue with his new bands remained, but there was progress. If ungodly slow.
"It's rough," he finally said, "the flow of mana is far greater than I was expecting, and years of operating at a loss has left me unprepared for this new force. I am making improvements, but they are slow."
"Aye, I expected that to be the case. You know, I have a question I hadn't thought to ask Saturday." Forager said. There was a light thump, which either meant he tapped his hand against the wall, or was leaning against it with his body.
"Shoot. I got time for it." He had all day, Mrs. Evergarden was at Central Station collecting a new group of orphans. The guard post inside the station would make a chore of the paperwork.
"I noticed something twice that night. The first time was when you and I had that little match of wills. The second time was when you actually hit me. If I hadn't been paying attention I might not have noticed, but Lad, you got bigger. How?" That last was delivered a little harshly. The bull's ego was still a little bruised at being knocked down by a brat less than half his age.
Orion wondered just how old the smith actually was.
"Oh that. Well...hmm. How do I explain it?" He poked his chin thoughtfully. "Okay. Do you know the difference between an earth pony and a unicorn? I mean besides the obvious."
"No, I can't say that I do. What are you gaming at?"
Oh boy, he was in for a bit of an explanation.
"Alright from the top then. As you no doubt know, earth ponies are, by and large, the most physically powerful and longest lasting when it comes to stamina. There are exceptions of course, mostly among the pegasi tribe, but for the most part that is true. Well a couple of years ago Twilight sent me a book that came with many others."
He hadn't expected her to forgive him for a long time after what he had said that night on the castle steps. But by the end of the following summer, they were thick as thieves once more.
Since then, the filly had hammered him with a monthly book delivery, provided he returned the ones she had sent the following month. Chocked full of random subjects.
Apparently it had been decided that he was not allowed back in the Great Canterlonian Library for the next five years. Which sucked ass because he was sure there were more Artification books scattered within just waiting for him to copy down.
He read what he wanted, and had time for, and would then send the rest back in a timely manner. But one day he found a book by a unicorn named Barley Top. It was called ,"A Unicorn's Guide to Earth Strength and How It Can Work for You".
A long title for sure, but the contents were invaluable.
Barley was a mare who grew up in the farm community of Wheatville, south of Trottingham. From the pages he recognized a pony's desire to help her friends. Earth ponies to be precise. But they liked to do things the good ol' fashion way.
So she made a study of their abilities. He continued.
"One of those books was a subject on the abilities of earth ponies and how a unicorn might use it for themselves. The author had made a rather thorough examination."
"So you essentially hit me with an earth pony's... strength?" There was a bit of shock in his voice. Orion chuckled.
"Oh yeah, heh. Downside is I can't maintain it at that level for more than two minutes. Better to parcel it out in fits and spurts and only when I really need it. I am close to something better, but that comes with its own complications."
That was putting it mildly. The spell he had cobbled together left him winded beyond belief and feeling like he took a jog in an active volcano crater. He was going to have to figure out a safe way to dispel the heat build up, otherwise he was wasting his time.
"Remind me to never try and corner you again." Came Forager's barely audible reply. This was annoying, he had to listen carefully, and most of what he did hear he had to run through his head a couple times to make sure he heard him correctly.
The idea of a walkie talkie floated in his head. "Could work…"
"Sure thing. Okay, if nothing else I'm gonna bounce I have about two weeks left before school starts and I want to at least try and get these fuckin' bands under control. I might have something for you in a few weeks should it work properly. Till then, watch your ass."
The smith gave him a grunt of acknowledgement, and what could be taken as goodbye.
Heading back the way he had come, turning up the range of the phoenix hair bead, the third version of the Presence enchantment. This one now allowed for not only modulation in range and pitch, but also building structures could be clearly mapped in better fashion. Not to mention his carving ability was getting much better.
It made for a headache being inside a city and all, but it had its own selection system so he kept that dialed down to only a couple of feet.
"Maybe I should call it Radar." He had been trying to come up with a better name than Presence . The spell's name was dumber than hell.
Pausing under a, ponyhole, he closed his eyes and focused on the alley above him. It had been his way in and out of the sewers for the better part of four years now. His little storeroom, hidden behind a rather sophisticated illusion enchantment, sat not too far away.
A scan wouldn't even pick up the room now, using the same anti-tampering tech as the portal gate used, had rendered it undetectable. With an increase in his power, thanks to the bands, he was now capable of improving his craft in ways he had only dreamed.
"Whew, won't have to wait." No one was there, though a close call early on had him never making that mistake again. Quickly replacing the lid, he peered down both ends, as he cast Freshen upon himself. Didn't want the sewers' lovely aroma to give him away. Never hurts to cover as many possibilities as he could, though that might be his paranoia over the fact that Celestia now knew someone could use Artification for themselves now.
With a self satisfied smile he headed toward the nearest exit. Later tonight he would come back and head to his lab. He wanted to tinker and wasn't sure what to do. But he had some ideas.
Celestia rubbed her temples in exasperation, she could not believe this happened. "How did it happen?!"
In her throne room stood her nephew, hunched over the back of a wheel chair that held his son, Golden Trot. Blueblood's right arm was in a sling, though Dr. Tourniquet had said his injuries were superficial.
Golden however, was far worse for wear. Both legs had been snapped at the cannons, crushed really. He had at least three ribs that were also reduced to splinters as well as his right arm having been shattered.
Bruises could be seen through his snow white fur, where fur was exposed. The swelling of his left eye made her want to wince.
According to her Guards' report, his friends had not fared much better.
Most bizarre of all, was Orion Falls.
Shirt torn to shreds, scuffed, but otherwise whole and hearty. Though he too sported a bruised right eye, the swelling was not quite at the level of Golden Trot's own. His pants had miraculously survived with not a mark on them. At least from what she could see.
A split lip completed his own mussed up look. That and the multitude of chains currently weighing him down. Neck, arms and his legs, all leading to six Guardsmares gripping them with apprehension.
Next to them was at least one other guard with a spear pointed at the black foal.
"-demand his immediate incarceration! To be hung from the wall facing the sun on-" She had been tuning in and out of Blueblood's speech for the past ten minutes. Mostly because she was still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened.
A brawl had broken out, and so far it had been laid all at Orion's hooves. He hadn't even spoken out to defend himself. He just stood there, looking for all the world like a bored colt in church. Did he just yawn?!
"Enough!" She did not shout, but she would no longer listen to her nephew's prattle. He was a Prince through Platinum's bloodline alone, and only because she had such great respect for the long since departed mare. His mother had been much the same as he was now. Foolish and petulant.
"I have heard a great deal about his supposed attack upon you and your son, Prince Blueblood." She glared at him when it looked like he would resume. The sullen look was noted as he snapped his lips shut. "But as a ruler, I would be negligent if I did not hear from the accused."
She looked at Orion then and he blinked as if he had just been brought back to the present.
"Oh? Is it my turn now? I'm sure the old Bag-of-wind here can go for another hour with his demands." No pony moved.
She had not thought he would have the gall to be so flippant, considering the situation.
"Orion, this is a rather serious issue." She admonished in a deadpan tone.
"Oh I know it is, but I'm not about to stand here and listen to Blueballs here run his mouth on and on about the same thing. So I just wanted to be sure he had gotten all of...whatever it was he said, out of his system. To subject my brain cells to suicide by listening to him would be far to much of an ask. There should be a convention of accords made to shield the innocent from him."
At Blueballs, the guards around him had begun to chuckle, then freeze up. Their faces painted in a scandalous array of expressions mostly focused around mirth. Chains were jingling.
As for the object of derision, from ears to nose, Blueblood was a study of shame and apoplexy, his jaw worked uselessly.
"Orion." Celestia spoke sternly. The colt's answering grin told that he knew he had an audience, and he would play to their whims and not hers.
In truth, she too wished to laugh. Never had she ever heard of anypony being so cavalier in insulting another. If not for the charges against him she would have permitted herself a chuckle. She was grateful that she chose to make this a closed session in any case. With a rueful thought to the headlines that might have been she decided to redirect this trial.
"Now, Orion, please tell me what happened, and be truthful. I will know if you are lying." Her horn softly glowed and she raised an eyebrow.
There would of course be interviews with the students and faculty that had been there that morning, and to see if any security crystals had picked up the fight. But she was suitably confident she could suss out any deception that might crop up, and she felt she had proper grasp on the colt's nature by this point.
"I could make a joke here but I'm sure it would go over everyone's head." He raised his hands, or tried to as the chains limited his movement. "Relax, no need to glare like that."
Celestia smoothed her face. A little humor was fine, but this needed to be serious.
"Okay, so. This morning was going pretty well…"
A Conversation With The Sun
Author's Note
Good Evening.
I hope y'all are having a great weekend, and for many of you, a wonderful start of the week. Not much going on. I scrapped the current map in favor of creating something more detailed. So hopefully I will have that out sometime this coming week.
Oh and a new chapter for my lore based comedy is being dropped next Sunday.
Well, that's about it for this week. If you like my work, and want to give me a little support, considering donating to my Kofi . I operate on a donation only, as I am not the that greedy. That money will be going to art for the story, equipment, and programs.
Thank you for reading.
Peace!
A Conversation With The Sun
Tongue lolling out of his mouth, Orion examined his teeth in the bathroom mirror.
Despite the horse-like nature of the species he now found himself in, the species itself wasn't really much like equines from his world.
For one thing, they had nearly the same amount of teeth, if flatter, as humans. Another was how squat the muzzles really were. In the struggle to survive his first days and months in this world, he hadn't really paid too much attention and was too busy to notice.
Though he was a bit different, and not just the human nature of his teeth and biology.
An interesting little factoid had come back from that medical examination some years ago. His vision was better than most save for pegasi, and even then, he beat them out in other ways.
It turns out that ponies didn't really see that well at night. Hence why nearly every alleyway and gutter in the city was lit like noon at any time of day. He supposed it was his human predator nature that gave him that advantage.
Closing his mouth with a smack, he examined himself thoroughly, brushing his fingertips against the patch of fiery gotee that he had begun growing on his chin. While not the standing mirror in his room, the orphanage bathroom mirror still gave back a pleasing sight.
"I may be getting a little vain here, but God-damn! Do I look good!"
Years spent at the gym had paid off, but he had decided against building the bulging muscle he had initially wanted early on. He was still big by colt standards, as he towered over most his age and many older than he. Orion had instead chosen to go with a more lithe form that was more than strong enough for his age.
Muscles rippled along his arms as he began adopting various poses he had seen on TV years ago.
He snorted, giving way to outright laughter. He looked ridiculous.
Shaking his head, as chuckles still shook him, he tossed the towel over his shoulder and left the washroom.
Well, he tried to.
Little fillies and colts ran around him in a tide of excited squeals and gaping wonder. Gaping wonder at him that had made him uncomfortable with past residents, though he supposed there was a reason for it.
The excited squeals were due partly because it was their first day of school. Most foals would be thrilled.
For the new charges of "Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals", he was a mystical being that haunted the halls of the orphanage. A legend that refused to be adopted. Some of the previous little tenants had written stories about him, complete fabrications except for a few, and wildly entertaining when he had found them, squirreled away in little holes and out-of-the-way nooks.
Instead of throwing them away, he left them and their "sacred texts" alone. He didn't see the harm in letting them have their crazy ideas, and the mild fear and worry made getting around the place easy.
Except for this morning, apparently.
Any concern over him had been swept away by the prospect of their first day in class. Mrs. Evergarden had gotten an entire crop of unicorns this go around. So the idea of attending a prestigious school was almost beyond their little minds to accept.
Many of the brats ran around half-dressed, save for one little colt who was destined for life as a nudist, bumping into one another as they kept zipping in and out of their rooms. All while boasting of how they would impress their new classmates.
He inwardly winced. Their fellow students would most likely be absolute miserable little assholes to them.
Getting to his room, he shed his pajama bottoms and quickly slipped into his uniform. The purple sweater vest had grown on him, but he would never willingly choose it outside school.
He shook his head, stirring several braids and beads intermingled in his mane. To disguise the few enchantments he carried, Orion had chosen to make and buy normal ones to hide them amongst. Keeping to wood and steel, his head now sported a multitude of ornaments that made him look like a surfer. Or a pothead.
"I wonder if there is weed, or something like it, in this world?" If there was, would he be the first to know what it was and market it?
Grabbing his bag, he headed for the door and stopped. Did he really want to tangle with all those kids flooding the halls? The shrieks of delight made him change direction.
"Nope. Nu-uh. Not today." He muttered.
Walking over to his window, he yanked it open with a jerk. The recent rain had swelled the wood somewhat, making the frame stick a bit, but there were no bugs. Mr. Dumpling had not misled him.
Seeing no one below and not sensing anyone either, he leaped out, an application of telekinesis shutting the window behind him. Three stories up was not an insignificant drop, but as he approached the bottom, he cast Windfall, and a gust of air slowed his descent to a more manageable speed.
Still, the shock shook his legs, causing him to hop a couple of steps.
"More wind next time, I think." He looked at his hands and smiled.
A peculiar bonus had come with his new "horns".
It was common knowledge that unicorns used their horns to cast a spell. This was normal. What wasn't normal, was that he was now capable of casting through his hands. The fingers acted as the foci for whatever he was attempting to do, and in the field of enchanting, was actually a massive increase in fine control.
Larger castings either didn't work or hurt his arms, depending on the size of the cast. So he kept it to small, simple spells.
The discovery of this new talent had come at a frightening moment.
In an accidental discharge, which he was sure had some sanitation workers scratching their heads in wonder, he had smoked a rather large spider with a fireball from his hand.
That was a reasonably advanced spell, though it only matched the power requirements needed and had not strained anything. That incident had led him to experiment and discover that by horn or wiggly fingers, he had become something more than average.
He decided it would be best to keep that little trick a secret.
The Windfall spell was, however, one such spell he could cast without difficulty with his hands.
Whistling, he walked into the back door and straight into the kitchen. Mr. Dumpling was there, of course, and so were three fillies watching the older stallion go about his work, their eyes glued to the pancakes the stallion had already stacked up on a plate. None had noticed him, and he snatched a few breakfast burritos he had made on Sunday in his magic and started heating them with a warming spell. They would be ready by the time he reached the street.
Slipping out, as undetected as before, he found himself munching on one of the three as he shut the foyer door behind him.
Today was going to be a good day.
Maybe...he had been too optimistic.
By lunchtime, Orion was exhausted. Mr. Cloverleaf's class had been moved forward in the schedule this year. His “remarkable” improvement had only spurred the teacher to test the limits of his newfound strength.
What had been a hope for ease of personal lessons had turned into a trial by fire to test his limits. The hard part was trying not to show too much. If he was being honest, and what he suspected was true, with the bands, he was now far beyond the strongest in the class.
That effort had served to exhaust and piss him off all at once, as restraining himself was just as taxing as pushing his new abilities to the max.
Getting to the dining hall, he groaned. It was packed. It seemed there were more students than ever before, and he had no desire to deal with them.
Rather than be stuck inside the cafeteria, he chose to go out into the early September sunshine. He decided to take shade under a tree toward the rear of the enclosed mezzanine. It had a rather lovely view of the upper plate, and the castle stood prominent over the rim. Likely an artistic choice of the builders that he entirely took advantage of.
He was not alone in his decision. Groups of ponies, both younger and older than him, were spread about amongst the available tables. All talked excitedly as they shoveled food into their mouths.
What struck him as odd, though, as he dug into his meal of oatmeal and fruit, was that more than a few looks were being shot in his direction. Surprisingly hostile faces with grins that made the hair on his neck rise.
"Something's fucky." Had he pissed someone off recently?
As he continued to eat, several colts had gathered near the entrances to the school proper. A few here, a few more over there, all arrayed as if blocking the way inside.
"What in the hell is going on?" He finished his food and glanced around. A frown on his face. He started recognizing some of them and barely contained his shock. These were idiots who had tried to bully him to some degree over the years and had verbally abused the hell out of them. "You have got to be shitting me…"
It was clear what was going on now. Block the exits, and make sure the target can't escape. The why was answered before he had the chance to ask why; his thoughts were abruptly interrupted.
"And there he is! The meat-eating monster of an orphan himself!" The pitch was deeper, but he recognized that whiny ass tone.
Fillies had suddenly shifted to the far side of the mezzanine in quick haste. A couple bore smug expressions, but most others were just confused. A few colts were also with them. So not all the males were in on it.
As Orion turned around, he could only groan in annoyance. Of course.
In truth, he had forgotten about the asshat that had lived with him all those years ago at the orphanage.
Golden Trot stood there, hands on his hips and a smug grin on his face. The idiot looked like he had just stepped from a spa. His uniform, much like his own, was silk rather than the cotton everyone else wore. His blonde mane, perfectly coiffed in a pompadour, glimmered in the sunlight.
The white-furred colt was the picture of refinement and arrogance. He had gotten big in his own right, just not as tall as the black pony himself.
No lunch was in his hands, an obvious red flag if he had ever seen one. Golden hadn't come to the mezzanine with food on the mind.
At his announcement, the corner where the majority of foals had ended up gasped out loud.
Orion wanted to smack a bitch.
"It's been a while since I had a need to beat some ass. But why me?!" He whined to himself. "I'm a fucking adult! Why do I have to deal with the high school drama bullshit!? I'm not even IN high school yet!"
He stood up and walked around the picnic table, planting his rear on the edge. Best not be sitting down when the fight inevitably starts.
He couldn't help but wonder where the teachers were.
Rather than let his little speech go wherever it seemed he wanted it to go, he interrupted as Golden opened his mouth again.
"What the hell do you want, dumbass?" He growled out. He had thought about acting bored, but he figured intimidation would work better in this case. The last time they had gotten into an altercation about bathroom privileges of all things, he had made the idiot practically piss himself in fear. Hopefully, that terror was still within him somewhere.
It seemed that was not to be the case as the white-furred pony just smirked at him, completely shrugging off his glare.
"That's concerning." Orion cast his baleful gaze on the others and noticed the same expression. Confidence and arrogance.
"Where are the teachers?"
Usually, there was at least one set to watch the students as they ate and interacted. Now, there was none to be seen in either the lunch hall itself or outside with the rest of them.
That's when he spotted Mr. Shower with another stallion he had never seen before, both standing inside a windowed corridor connecting the cafeteria with the gymnasium. Both had self-satisfied looks as they watched on from their vantage.
"So that's the game...shit." A fight was going to happen whether he wanted it or not.
Turning back to Golden Trot, he noticed for the first time that he wasn't alone in his approach. Behind him were half a dozen colts. He couldn't recall any of them save for Prickly Shower.
The colt had been born with a chip on his shoulder. Likely due to the fact that he was as ugly as his father, Golden Shower. It turns out he had guessed right about the name and had laughed his ass off when a colt in his class, Bismuth, had told him the stallion's name.
To top it off, he was a Nazi pony looking for his Hitler. Mr. Shower was thoroughly convinced that unicorns were the superior breed and that all others were beneath mention.
There was even a fraternity of all things, one that seemed both father and son were a part of. As the little shit nearly said the same as his father on a daily basis. Orion made a point of busting his ego anytime he started his nonsense within hearing.
Golden suddenly gestured.
Prickly's horn flashed orange, and before the black pony had a chance to react, he was pinned to the tree he had been sitting beside, his horn wrapped in the same glow.
Trapping someone's horn in magic was most often used by guards and law enforcement across the nation. Of course, only unicorns could do it to other unicorns, but it was rather effective in keeping one from casting a spell. The influence of outside mana disrupted a caster's ability to focus through their horn—something to do with frequency, though his magic classes had yet to cover the details.
It appears as though Golden Trot had managed to get ponies that had a problem with him to back the white colt up.
"So how much are ya paying these guys to do your heavy lifting?" He smirked back, which was difficult considering the knot in the tree that was digging into his spine, making him want to wince instead.
"P-pay them!? They are my friends, and there is no need to pay friends." He recovered well after the shaky start, but the looks of the others behind him gave evidence of the lie as they glared at the back of his head.
"Figures someone like this clown had to buy support."
"Oh yeah, you most certainly paid them." He laughed. "And you called me an orphan. Dude, that's not an insult. Hell, you were one yourself not too long ago."
Whatever advantage he had made with the group didn't appear to amount much as Golden Trot grinned up at him. This was not going well.
"Was, my little predator. Oh yes, I know all about your need for meat. Your desire for flesh. I will not allow you to stain the halls of this great academy any longer!" He was projecting his voice. Gasps echoed around the mezzanine repeatedly with each pronouncement. "That's right, my fellow ponies." He cried out, sweeping a gaze over the assembled crowd. "This creature masquerading as a "pony" is a beast that eats poor innocent animals!" His hand shot out and gripped Orion's jaw, twisting to pry open his mouth, exposing his teeth to them all.
More gasps and a few shrieks of terror followed. "Jesus, these people are weak."
"See, my friends! It is, as I said. He is a beast! What pony knows how long it would have been before animals were not enough for him! Perhaps he has already partaken of a mare or even a stallion!"
The Orion wanted to make a dirty comment about exactly what part of a mare he would eat but now did not seem the time for that level of flippancy.
There had been rumors. Missing persons that vanished in the night without rhyme or reason, and this little shit was playing on a tragedy to families for his own gain.
The growl that rumbled into the moment's stillness came from his throat much to his surprise. He wanted to hurt the arrogant young aristocrat very, very badly.
Opening his mouth to respond, Golden Trot punched him in his jaw. It hurt. Apparently, he had been doing more than sitting on his laurels eating bon bons and being waited on hand and hoof.
"Don't growl at me, beast." He said contemptuously. "From the sound, it must have been a Diamond Dog that raped your mother. That would explain the half-breed nature." He pulled a scarf from a sleeve and wiped his fist off before dropping the cloth. "No...she likely begged for it. Like a whorse."
Your mother was a hoe taunts. Original.
"Look at you, being brave with others at your back" Orion chuckled darkly. A thought had occurred to him. "First and foremost, every faculty member here knows about my dietary needs, you smooth-brained slug." That chuckle morphed into a cackle as he devised a new tactic. "I've never bitten anyone either." His grin was all teeth now. "Well, no one that didn't deserve it, at least." He was exposed now, he might as well have fun with it.
A couple of his pack of morons took a step back, fear in their eyes.
He had been so careful to never grin or smile openly to anyone in school. He had not wanted to cause a panic nor break a promise that was not quite a promise to Mrs. Evergarden either. A not-promise he had stuck to for years.
Besides Twilight, no one in the school had ever known what they shouldn't have. Now those teeth flashed in the noonday sun for all to see.
He decided this was going to be a teaching moment, a lesson on not screwing with potentially dangerous people. They would not enjoy it.
"Y-you admit your carnivorous nature!?" The would-be school bully shrieked.
"I also eat vegetables, and fruit, you halfwit. Everyone here has seen me dig into oatmeal almost religiously. It's called being an omnivore, you chud. So congratulations, you exposed an omnivore. Good job. Go collect your gold star, get a little juicy box, and fuck. Off." He wondered if juice boxes were a thing here.
"That is only because you are forced to!"
"Have ever you had cherry oatmeal drizzled in honey and mixed with butter? Trust me; no one is forcing me to eat that deliciousness." He interrupted.
"A likely story! My father says it's well known that lesser creatures always give way to their baser instincts eventually, and I know you will, you savage." He adjusted his uniform. Of course, he would wear that ridiculous tie that was technically mandatory, he never did. "I, Golden Trot, will never allow you to visit your predations on my fellow pony." Stepping forward, getting right in his face, "You shall leave this illustrious place of learning, this very city, never to be seen again!"
Orion could only gape in astonishment. He couldn't be serious, there was no way. Before he could stop himself, he roared with laughter.
"This is ridiculous!" Had he not been bound so tightly to the tree, he would have drummed his hooves in mirth.
His captors could only stare on in bewilderment. They all were, from what he could tel,l with tears in his eyes. It took minutes for him to recover, and even then he was wracked with chuckles of amusement.
"Hehe, "my daddy says"!" Okay, so what happens if I, you know, don't go?" He had to see how far this fucker thought he could go.
"I shall have you chased out if must be. Possibly slain like some sloven beast in an alley. The guards would do for you just fine." There was that beast comment again.
"Do you have any other insult, "beast" is getting mighty old. You know what they say: Overusing a word makes it lose its meaning. As to your... heh...guard comment. You mean the guard who serves under Equestrian rules and regulations?" This was becoming utterly moronic. For a plan it wasn’t that well reasoned out.
"But of course, who better to act than the guardians of Equestria's finest."
"The very ones that Princess Celestia herself commands absolutely." He wasn't going to bother with questioning tone anymore, hoping this absolute nebula brain would get the picture.
"Yes, yes, if you must spell it out." Of course, he didn't.
"The very Princess that I actually know, who also knows about me and has allowed me to remain as a student." He grinned darkly.
The change on the irritated foal's face was remarkable. From smug annoyance, it morphed into confusion, then outright horror. "Oh boy, this is fun now."
"Im-im….that is preposterous!" Oh, denial. A fantastic cologne on the pompous ass. A quick glance toward the large windows in the corridor showed an unsmiling Shower and mystery stallion. He wondered if they were getting the picture. Did no one do any research on him before this half-assed plan had been developed?
He might just be able to keep his not-promise after all.
"So, you're saying that Princess Celestia is inattentive? That she doesn't know what's going on in her own school. Her own orphanage?" It was his turn with the smug.
Many were now looking uncertain. As well, they might. Golden Trot was starting to pale, in fear, he hoped.
"Never, the Goddess of the Sun always watches out for us!" He squeezed his eyes shut rather forcefully. Taking a deep breath, he fixed Orion with a glare. "I refuse to listen to your lies any longer! You will leave and leave NOW!" He roared into his face and punched him again, harder this time.
His fist wasn't the only one. With that first strike came others.
"Well, shit." So much for trying to end things peaceably.
As the blows fell, he tested Prickly's hold on his horn and grinned.
There was one minor issue with using this particular method to restrain a unicorn. If the subject was stronger than you, you could not hold them for long, if at all.
No one had bothered to fuse magic with Golden Shower's son either. Which made his first move all the easier.
With a surge of his magic, added by the bands on his arms, he blew through Prickly's surprisingly weak hold on his horn. Shattering the bindings cast on him, his first punch dropped the ugly turd of a colt like a brick. His other hand wrapped around Golden's throat.
They all backed away from him then. Well, the ass clown in his grip tried to at least.
When he was bound to the tree, they had all looked taller than him, but as he rose to his full height, he looked over them all. A sneer was plastered to his lips.
Orion spat blood to the side. They had managed to bust his lip.
"I am gonna teach you a lesson now." He spoke coldly, through gritted teeth. "You came here and attempted to make me into some type of fucked up boogeyman. All to look like some noble hero." As his horn burst to life, he snorted, and the complex spells that increased his strength began to suffuse into his flesh. "But let's be honest, until some mare drives her strap on the size of a club into your ass, you won't feel fulfilled. I imagine your "daddy" might be proud when you've been spit-roasted. I am told it takes a bit of fortitude to get your asshole cored out." He leaned in. "Ya fucked up coming after me like this."
Enraged, Golden Trot struck him again. He simply turned and spat more blood onto the ground once more.
"Be tee dubs, you hit like a bitch."
"Oh, look, red."
Twilight raced down the hallways of the gymnasium building, having left the fillies' locker room, dread flogging her mind.
She had just finished her extra long shower, as she always felt filthy after her time running laps with her classmates. The purple filly could not understand what Orion found so fulfilling getting that sticky. It was disgusting.
While slipping on her bra, the fillies in the other aisle were chatting and laughing away.
She had long since come to ignore the conversations of others, as she was often left out and didn't need to be reminded of the fact that while she was the Princess's student, she was still largely unpopular.
However, when her friend's name came up, her ears couldn't help but perk in their direction.
"Oh yeah?! Golden is really gonna force Orion out?!" Squealed Velvet Touch.
"Oh, absolutely. He's been talking about it since he and his father's herd returned from Trottingham this summer. They have a "history"." Giggled Morning Ray.
"No way! Are we finally going to get rid of that lout? When's it happening!?" Chortled a third, whose name Twilight was unfamiliar with.
"Well, it should be going down right about now. It's his lunchtime, after all. And before you ask, no, the teachers won't be there. They will be diverted. However, he wouldn't tell me how. Such a brilliant pony. I wonder if he is already thinking about his own herd. I could see myself…"
The rest of what Morning had to say had become white noise. She threw on her blouse in a scramble, barely able to finish buttoning it up as she burst out the door.
He had to be warned! Or at least a teacher notified by what was about to happen.
Skidding into the corridor connecting the gymnasium with the cafeteria, she spotted Mr. Shower, and of all ponies, Prince Blueblood himself.
"Yes! They can stop it before it gets out of hand!"
But as she approached, she couldn't help but notice the slack-jawed expression on their faces. She turned her head and slowly came to a stop.
Brow furrowing, she didn't understand what she was seeing at first. Then her eyes bulged as what was happening became apparent as a colt sailed through the air.
Orion was wielding Golden Trot like a flail while chasing a group of them. Each smack sent a pony flying in random directions.
They must have been the ones who had decided to join the now weaponized foal in his attempt to chase one of her few friends out of school.
Orion was laughing like a maniac, teeth flashing in the sunlight as he dodged a half-hearted attempt at a magic missile barrage by a handful of fillies. What he couldn't dodge bounced harmlessly off a shield that flashed into existence.
"So fast...wait, what are those…" Orion was sporting a set of sharp teeth she had seen before, but they were somehow bigger, which made them monstrously more frightening. She wanted to run for an entirely different reason now. Orion Falls had become a monster.
Swinging around after clubbing the last colt he had pursued with his improvised weapon, he whipped his arm back and shot Golden forward toward the corridor. Toward them.
Twilight dove to the ground and shrieked as a hail of broken glass and wood showered them. The sound of air escaping somepony in a pained exhalation echoed loudly in her ears.
Tentatively looking around from her balled-up position on the floor, she found Prince Blueblood and Golden Trot entangled in a lump on the other side of the corridor. The older pony was groaning, clutching his belly, but Golden was wailing loudly, his words incoherent as he laid on his father.
Turning back to the large hole in the wall where a window had once sat, she got her first real good look at her friend. She was vaguely aware of the tide of frightened ponies rushing away from the mezzanine, pouring out of the cafeteria wing.
Teeth bared in a rictus snarl, Orion's hands clenched and unclenched in rhythm with his heavy breathing. The horn which had always illuminated so weakly was now a torch on his brow. His shirt and vest were nothing but scraps.
The pants, however, hadn't suffered any damage at all.
"Was he always this big?"
It wasn't his height that had not changed in the slightest, but where cloth gave way to fur, muscle rippled. He looked; expanded was the only word that stirred in her mind.
Sweat matted his fur and mane, and his lip was bleeding, but she could not move. His visage frightened her, and the black eye did nothing to detract from the heated glare that threatened to ignite all it landed on.
He moved and was in the hall with the three so fast she at first thought he had learned to teleport.
She couldn't help the squeak that ripped its way through her throat. Gray, dead eyes looked at her. This was a side to her friend she had never seen before. She was more than scared. Twilight was terrified.
"Celestia, preserve me! Those teeth!" The sight of them drove all rational thought from her mind. The fact that she invoked her mentor’s name was proof enough of that.
Before her was a monster. A monster that had replaced the aloof and often irritated colt she knew. Fear gave her legs the strength to scramble to her hooves, but she couldn't take a step in any direction under that gaze.
"Twilight." His voice made her shiver. No pony should sound like that. Like death, or as she imagined it to sound like. "Would you please go get Principal Farsight? I seemed to have gone too far." He glanced behind him, several colts were stirring, but none had yet gotten up from the ground. "Might need some guards and medics here as well."
A groan from behind her drew his gaze back past her. He sighed heavily. Some of that dead look had tapered off a little. He visibly shrank as his horn's magic winked out.
"He looks important. Might want to have the principal notified on that as well." A splash startled them both, and Orion laughed a harsh sound. "Jesus, might as well call for janitorial while we are at it. Someone sprung a leak."
Turning around, she saw Mr. Shower, his pants drenched at the crotch. Terror mirroring her own etched into his face.
It was all too much for her. Before she realized it, her hooves started her down the hall, each step becoming quicker than the last. By the time she turned the corner, she was in a full sprint.
Celestia found herself unable to speak. That did not happen often.
It was about what she expected in terms of the aftermath. She had been given a preliminary report by the guards at the scene of the incident an hour ago.
But the details Orion provided painted a very different set of events than what her nephew had claimed.
Those details also made his escort stiffen noticeably—one going so far as to aim her spear at him a little more levelly.
Most had never seen combat, something she was not sure was good or not. There were the border guards and the Darkwatch Guards, both having far more experience with somepony trying to kill them. The latter having to watch the Badlands themselves for the horrors that may spawn from there.
But these were city guards, and they lacked what regular troops possessed. So his statements came with tightening grips on chains and spears. At the end of his tale, one of them even took a step back.
"So much for the courage of the guard." She thought wryly. Though from his tale, it sounded as if he fought like a seasoned veteran of battle. Likely just making himself sound capable but still, she could understand the fear.
Orion, however, was very observant.
"Hey, hey. Keep it cool, ladies." His look took in all around him, his smile trying to be both disarming, and a little charming. "I'm not gonna try anything." None of them relaxed by a tail hair. "Oh, for fuck sake, you have a demi-goddess right here. Before I could so much as twitch, she would nuke my ass from orbit. It would be suicide even to consider fighting her. So chill the hell out!"
"Demi-goddess?!" She supposed that too many, that was true. It was even a little flattering to hear it spoken aloud. But she wondered what the term "nuke" implied.
Questions for later.
"So you admit that you struck at your fellow students. Your fellow pony. That you had attacked Blueblood with his own foal, Orion, you are not painting yourself in a very kind picture." She was surprised he had been so honest. Many would have lied in his place.
"You wanted, asked, for the truth. Not some half-ass lie that you would eventually see through the moment an investigation had been made." She merely nodded. It was impressive that he had considered all of that already. Even adult ponies would attempt to circumvent her purview. "Besides, in my defense, this could have been stopped well before it began."
She arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Attempting and failing to lift his arms too high, he gestured toward Blueblood and his son.
"That jackass, and Mr. Shower, could have stopped it all before it even began. Instead, they stood laughing in the corridor. What responsible person does that?"
He was right. Her nephew and the teacher named had been there, by both the colt's account and the report. She eyed the Prince suspiciously. He was licking his lips, and his eyes would not meet her own. Was it true?
Not for the first time, she felt justified in her act of violation on anypony born to royalty. When Platinum's descendants were born, as with all members of that bloodline, Celestia had taken the time to cast a spell on their minds, as a safety measure.
"Antilier's Insurance" was a spell designed to allow a pony to peek into the mind of another without damaging them. It took hours to cast because you had to lay skeins of power across the nero-network of the brain very carefully and more importantly, it had to be done in their infancy. As much so they did not remember it being done as it bore the most negligible effects on their mental development. As experiments had proven, a developed consciousness suffered various brain abnormalities.
She was not happy to have to do it, but the results allowed her to ensure that those closest to her throne, her power, could never plot anything. It was Dark Magic that some would say was downright evil, but as she probed into her nephew's mind, it had again proven its worth.
"The Tree preserve me…" she groaned inwardly.
This had long been in the planning stages for months. Through Golden, the Prince had learned of Orion's omnivorous nature and had made plans to make his son the hero. But that wasn't what had made her groan. If anything that may have been expected given who he was as a pony.
She wanted to bite something.
Of course, the Church of Sol had a hand in this, if only slightly. The black colt's description and his "crime" had been sent to every high-ranking pony in the nation. That was known even to her.
To this day, she had no idea why a Functionary of the Church, this Velvet Backwater, had fastened so tightly onto the colt in chains. Inquiries had yielded nothing other than the mare taking it as a personal failure to lose Orion.
As an ardent supporter of the Church, it made sense for the Lord of Trottingham to want to curry favor with their upper echelons, and Backwater had contacted him personally. Her nephew was always seeking more power and influence, much as his mother had been, and the CFP agent was a good angle with her connections and influence.
As she perused through his mind, she viewed everything from parties set up to gather support for Golden's scheme amongst his peerage, to arranging teachers and any adults away from the cafeteria for the duration of the conflict.
The whole incident was orchestrated to frighten the orphan away from school. From the city itself, in fact. The reason was clear if a little bizarre.
Agents from CFP were lying in wait for him to leave Canterlot. How they believed the plan would work was up to speculation, but she often found ponies making ridiculous choices in a path to greater wealth and influence.
"What is their obsession with the poor colt?" She made a mental note to have this looked into more thoroughly. There had to be something she was missing. Some piece she had not found to put into the puzzle.
Despite the Church being raised to worship her, she had almost no control over their inner workings. As of late, none at all. It would be challenging to discover anything, but she would double her efforts.
However, things did not play out as anypony in the plot had suspected.
Instead of being met with the expected fear from Orion, they got rage and violence in abundance no pony was ready for. And as she watched events play out from Blueblood's perspective, she was stunned.
"An intimidation spell? Where had he learned that?!" Seeing him swell in size wasn't the only surprise the colt had up his sleeve. He had gotten past whatever block that had been afflicting him as he rampaged through the lot of them.
With a sword, it would have been a slaughter. Even so, it very nearly was. Celestia had to fight to keep her face smooth as Golden Trot had been used as a weapon to beat the other colts who had come after him. It was hilarious on its face because the idea of using a pony that way would never have occurred to her to try. Not in the countless battles through the ages she partook in would she have ever considered doing so.
She had confirmation on who had been telling the truth. Now she had to deliberate on how to give judgment.
Pulling her consciousness back, she was bombarded by Blueblood's whiny demands once again.
"-this mad beast should be hung! No, I demand he be butchered! It serves him right! Attack my son as he-"
"Back to hanging, with butchering as an option. Blueballs-" She barely suppressed another groan. Now the colt had her thinking of it. Soon enough, she would be uttering it out loud if she was not careful.
Opening her mouth to interrupt before he could spout more idiocies, she was interrupted by Orion instead. Well, he interrupted both of them.
"You know, for a subject of the Princess, being under her authority and all, you certainly like to spout orders as if you're the one in charge, Blueballs." Dead silence save for the renewed shaking of chains. Guardsmares were biting their lips in an attempt not to laugh again, but their shoulders gave them away as they shook violently.
Prince Blueblood had never been a popular pony among the common equine.
Celestia could only close her eyes and focus all her strength on holding that mask. This was becoming a circus, and not for the first time, was she glad she had made this a private session.
"Y-YOU DARE!" Blueblood's magic erupted and was only just prevented from lashing out. His blue aura was slapped down by her more powerful golden one.
"YOU WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN." Celestia boomed into the silence. More and more, she was being given reasons to use her Royal Voice these past few months. The white monarch desperately desired a vacation.
In the back of her mind, she was worried that the stress of rule was beginning to be too much for her.
Schooling her face to neutrality, she leveled her gaze on everypony involved.
"Prince Blueblood, of Trottingham." He winced at his name and title. "I know what you have done. The parties thrown to gather support for this endeavor have not gone unwitnessed." She could not announce everything. To do so would be to expose her own criminal actions. She had signed that particular law to banish that spell in its entirety personally. But she could bend the truth. Who was to say she lied?
"You goaded young Golden into acting on his hatred of young Orion. Why I do not know, but I promise you I will find out." Her nephew practically folded in on himself. The snores from the wheelchair announced to all that the poor broken foal had fallen asleep.
Orion only snorted in amusement.
"Orion, you have a terrible habit of getting yourself into trouble." She magicked his restraints off, leaving the nullring still on his horn.
Before she could continue, the angry black colt interrupted her.
"Excuse you? But who went after who? I didn't start this shit! If this all hadn't happened, would I have just gone randomly swinging on people in school today?" He jabbed a finger at Blueblood and his son. "This giant sack of shit, and his slightly smaller sack of shit son, came after me! I had nothing to do with this ass fuck of a plan! Don't you dare lay the blame on me!"
Eyes wide, Celestia could not respond to his tirade that blasted forth from his mouth.
The guards, having backed up once the restraints had been removed, gaped in open astonishment. Blueblood joined his son in unconsciousness, collapsing beside the chair in shock.
For long seconds there was silence, and as the moment stretched on, Orion's eyes widened in alarm, apparently seeing his mistake too late.
Not that she paid attention to his expression any longer.
He dared correct her. Her! The Ruler of the Day and Avatar of the Sun itself! High Princess of the Nation of Equestria, having wrought it from the collection of tribes and petty, small kingdoms into the mighty force it was today.
Anger didn't swell; it boiled over within her breast.
"You dare to speak to me that way?" The words were quiet yet hot enough to turn water to vapor in an instant, carrying heat like a furnace into the furthest corners of the massive room.
Standing, she glared down at him.
"YOU ARE BUT A FOAL!" She roared. "What wisdom do you possess that you believe you may speak to me in any capacity of what is right and wrong?!" She had long since lost the mask of tranquility, burned away by the rage within.
Guards fled in all directions, mostly toward the doors. Blueblood and his son stayed where they were. Had she been paying attention, she would have noticed that the colt's wheelchair was beginning to warp.
Orion was sweating buckets, but whatever fear he might have had was not on evidence. Fierce anger glared back at her.
"Wisdom? How about predictive reasoning? I know right from wrong, and you were about to say I was partly at fault! That's not fair! I broke a promise today because of them, and you trying to lay blame equally on me as one of them is BULLSHIT!" He roared back at her.
She seethed. No, she churned in rage. He would dare-!
It hit her like a hammer between the eyes. That had been exactly what she had been about to do. She blinked. What had she been thinking?!
Shaking, she looked down at herself and gasped in shock. Her brilliant white dress with gold and purple trim, had suffered burns and scorch marks, reducing the garment to barely a covering. There was no saving it.
At her hooves, the marble had been blackened, cracking under tremendous heat, and a quick glance behind her showed her throne suffering the same. The pillow upon it had been burned to ash. She had liked that cushion.
Shame scoured Celestia's heart and mind. Her rear plopped onto the stairs of the dais beneath her, first staring at nothing, then burying her head in her hands.
"What had I been about to do?!" Flashes of anger, rage, and death had rolled through her mind, and it frightened her. Terrified her. Looking at the colt in front of her. "Why does he anger me so?" Celestia's mind had no answer for that.
He disturbed her. To a degree she couldn't understand. He bore knowledge that only a scholar could know. He acted as a stallion many years older then his age could possibly excuse. Looking at him now, she was reminded of a pony in the distant past.
General Iron Wall had been a pony of singular honor. He never took the path of popularity but of principle and courage. Orion startlingly shared many of his traits. But the one thing the pony of the past did not have, the colt before her made up for in spades.
Anger. Uncontrollable anger. It was in evidence since his foalhood, and she believed she knew where it had originated from. His abandonment all those years ago could easily be the culpirt.
No, she shook her head as she reevaluated what she knew of him; rage seemed to be more an apt name for it. She had seen that emotion rear its head on more than one occasion.
That lone thought took her to an uncomfortable comparison. His anger, his frustrations, often mirrored her own. In that, they were quite the pair.
But her history gave reason to her issues. Was it only abandonment that had fueled his? Or was there something more?
Taking her face from her palms, she looked at him, really taking him in from crown to hoof since he had been marched into court.
He had changed so much since that day she surprised him with her private meeting. Hard muscle twitched under deep black fur. He truly had dedicated time to building a healthy body in the house of iron.
Speaking of metal, there were new adornments about his person. Steel ornaments mixed with wood ones decorated his mane, glinting in the afternoon light through the court’s windows. With her vision, she could see little carvings of birds and trees etched into them.
On his arms, wrapped securely around the biceps, were two bands of steel. Smoothly polished to a dull shine, they were simple, and she had not seen their like in a long time.
Before Unification, earth pony nobility wore arm rings as a status symbol and to mark rank among their peers. A little over a century ago, they had made a return amongst the earth pony mares for a time before eventually falling out of favor once more. During that time, it was a measure of progress for muscle growth. It seemed Orion was attempting to revive that particular vein of culture.
Celestia's eyes drifted to his face and paused.
Of all that changed about him, those eyes never had. They always seemed far older than any foal she had ever met. She saw worry but couldn't help but notice that set in his jaw. He was convinced he was right and was determined to stand by his belief.
How very much like Iron Wall.
She allowed herself a smile. The fiery patch of chin fluff looked adorable on him. When had he decided to grow it was a question for another time.
Like so many others.
How to proceed? She had been too quiet for far too long. Her smile turned rueful.
"Start with the truth, you old nag." She admonished herself. It was advice she often gave to others even now, and today that wisdom would serve her. Or so Celestia hoped.
She patted a spot next to her and gestured for him to come close. Suspicion was loud on his face, but approach he did and took a seat not too far away, but not within arms reach of her. That was acceptable given the circumstances.
"I'm sorry, Orion. You were…are correct. I was about to cast blame about equally with little regard for the circumstance." She was proud of how steady her voice was.
He, of course, grinned smugly. Well, Celestia couldn't have him being too bold.
Before he could react, she leaned over and booped him right on the nose. The offended look she received and the way his face scrunched up pulled a needed laugh from her.
"Be proud, foal, but not too proud. It is not often I am proven wrong. Recent memory has placed you as only the second to correct me in the past five hundred years." She frowned. "Do not let it go to your head. Do not make the mistake that you are wiser than I due to this one moment. I have erred, but that is seldom, and you will remember that. And by your own testimony, you went too far today with Golden Trot and his coterie."
He grimaced and nodded in acquiescence. "Yeah, I kinda did." Scrubbing hands through his mane, he chuckled. "Truth? I kinda lost myself there without meaning to. I was so pissed off and...well, you know, lost control."
She nodded. Celestia did know. Had experienced it herself, on more than one occasion. She would have said the difference between the pair of them was her self-control, but clearly, she had proven that thought false today.
While he wouldn't take the blame for the event itself, he did seem to regret his responses to it. Just like an old general, he very closely emulated.
He was growing into a fine stallion, if strange and outdated in this era.
"If I am being honest, I would not punish you this day. But you injured a number of ponies in your desire to, shall we say, instruct others on what not to do. That, and you fairly destroyed the corridor connecting the gymnasium and cafeteria of my school. I am going to have to assign some kind of repercussion for that." He groaned loudly.
"Seriously?! I thought I was right?!"
"You were, and are. However, you caused injury and quite a lot of destruction in your anger. As a unicorn, you have a greater and more immediate effect on the world, and thus a greater responsibility to hold yourself to a higher standard. You lost control today, Orion. I cannot let that pass."
He hung his head and sighed. "But I tried so hard to get them to stop…"
"I know, and I commend you for your efforts, but as it stands…" She arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I get. Stupid as hell, but I get it."
"Starting tomorrow, you will be suspended from my school for one month." He grimaced. "Also, I will assign you community service during your suspension."
"You could just, oh, I don't know, toss my ass into the dungeons for a while. I think I would prefer that."
He was attempting to be humorous. She chuckled despite herself, a much-needed relief that went a little in healing her bruised ego.
"Alas, no. No dungeon for you. Perhaps if you went and committed a real crime, I may just consider it." She chuckled.
"Well, I'll get right on it." He jabbed a finger. "Hey, you! Get over here. I see you got a knife; I need to stab you with it." The guard blanched visibly. He turned back to the white monarch, a grin stretching his face. "Assault will do it, right?"
Celestia full-on laughed.
She was feeling better. Admitting her fault had hurt, but his sudden return to his easy and sassy nature had made it not sting as much as it could have.
She supposed being right all the time was boring. Another chuckle, more at herself than anything else, as she vaguely recalled her thinking the same the last time she had been corrected.
"I'm afraid you shall not get out of this that easily."
"Shiiiit."
She gestured for the guards to return to the dais. The confusion was evident in their eyes as to what had just happened. The smile that Celestia had been wearing twisted a bit.
Orion was likely unaware, but his legend was growing. Ponies knew who he was in the city already. And Guardsmares loved to gossip. No doubt this would reach the ears of the press soon enough.
Oh, the field day they would have with her. As she thought about that, she realized that she would have to send him outside Canterlot for his community service. If she did not, the news ponies would no doubt mob him daily.
She blinked in surprise. Silver Bell was amongst the assembled detail. With the insanity that had occurred, Celestia likely didn't realize one of the Royal Guard had added herself to the mix.
"Lieutenant Bell, since you somehow managed to include yourself in this, I request that you escort young Mr. Falls to the city guard. Give them instructions on confining him to his orphanage and to await orders on where he will be doing his service tomorrow."
"Aye, I think I can do that fer you, yer highness." Celestia carefully did not wince.
She could find no better officer. But unless upset, the mare's tongue would never be fit for civil speaking.
"Come along ya 'ittle hooligan. I think ya taken up enuff of the Princess's time. Don't cha?" She clapped a hand on his shoulder, fairly dragging him away from her and the dais.
"Oh, eat me, bellbottom. It wasn't my plan to end up here!" And with that, the pair began a light-hearted bickering back and forth, much to the amusement of those around them.
The sun monarch smiled. He would likely hate what she had in mind, but it would be good for him, teach him patience. Keep him from potentially harming the press.
A sudden thought occurred to her.
"ORION!"
He spun around, eyebrow cocked.
"The nullring stays on." She said firmly.
"WHAT THE HELL! JUST TOSS MY ASS IN JAIL THEN!" He bellowed back.
She gave one of her patent motherly smiles, mostly to mask the urge to laugh again, and walked away herself. It wasn't revenge for her embarrassment today, but it tasted sweet.
She had to get changed, it would not do for her to attend her duties this out of sorts, and she still needed to deal with Twilight. She had not allowed her attendance to this because of how shaken the filly had been at her friend's sudden and somewhat violent transformation.
As she stepped through a side door, she could not help but think she had forgotten something.
The doors didn't quite slam shut, but the reverberating boom nearly made him jump.
It was a quick, but not rushing pace the guards kept as they marched through gilded marble halls and high-ceiling crossways.
Naturally, he ignored all of it. Orion was too busy screaming internally at himself to try and price a particularly heavy vase in a recess of the hall they swept by.
"THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" That had to be the third time that particular question was leveled at himself, with successive increases in hysteria.
When he had been escorted under restraints, he had expected Celestia to rule in his favor. In his mind, at least at the time, he had been merely defending himself.
As Blueballs went on his little tirade, that only solidified things in his opinion. But his hopes were toppled as fast as he toppled those idiots who had tried to gang up on him.
The moment she had begun removing his chains, obviously ready to tell him of his own faults in all of it, his mind snapped over the audacity. Everything he had wanted to say had poured out in a rush that he only realized too late was the exact wrong thing to say.
He knew what she was planning to do. He had seen school teachers back on earth pull the same line on students caught fighting. Regardless if only one was defending themselves. At that moment he had decided, if not knowingly, that he wasn't about to let this bitch do it to him too.
But as she turned from shocked monarch to raging inferno on legs, he realized his mistake. It was a surreal experience, watching the Princess's mane and tail go from calm dawn colors to bonfires in high wind like that.
However, what alarmed him most was her eyes. "Shit, and her teeth!" He had never seen or heard of a transformation like it. And he was the omnivore.
The whites had roiled, was the best word he could use, to orange so dark as to nearly be black. Gone were the warm magenta pupils. In their place was gold that seemed to glow with unseen fire. As she shouted at him, her teeth flashed in the light. He imagined it was like discovering you were locked in the room with a half-starved lion.
Terrifying. And for the life of him, he could not begin to understand how he withstood the onslaught of heat and death or the testicular fortitude to actually yell back at her. Her! The bitch had the power to lay waste to the entire area with plenty to spare. He could feel it like sludge rolling off of her.
And there was his dumbass picking a fight.
Had he not been so ready to bolt when she had suddenly shifted back to normal, he would have collapsed in relief. He hadn't even noticed that Blueblood had passed out toward the beginning of that contest of wills.
The rest had been a blur, though he could clearly recall what had been said now.
He still believed the dungeon would be preferable. Catching up on some sleep sounded better than whatever the sun princess had in mind.
A nudge hit him in the ribs.
Glancing over, he noticed Silver Bell with a bemused slant to her lips.
"Bairn, do ya know 'ow lucky ya are?" She prodded him in the ribs again.
"Stop that!" He slapped her hand away. "The hell is a Bairn? And yes, I am more than aware that I nearly had a personal conversation with the sun. I think the scorch marks were evident enough."
"Bairn is what we call eh foal. You, in this case. The buck were you thinking?!" She jabbed him again. He was going to hit her.
That's when he realized the rest of his little escort team had gone silent, all ears aimed at them—time to proceed carefully.
"I was thinking that she was wrong. That's what I was thinking." He might not want to tell her how tight his asshole had been squeezing. He was so close to shitting himself in those few seconds of fiery furry, and he didn’t want to think about it.
"'ucky ya was right then!" She clapped him on the shoulder. At the same time, holding her other hand out. Bits from several of the guards began to plop into it.
"You're kidding me. You fucks gambled on whether or not I was going to die?!" He shouted angrily. Several servants eyed the group in alarm, more rushing toward the throne room itself.
All he got was laughter in answer.
"... high-pressure zone it sinks to the ground. The air is sucked back toward the low pressure at the equator. This describes the convection cells…"
This was the eleventh time she had read this same line. She knew the chapter discussed the airflow and the effects in the Everfree. She understood that this book also discussed ponies' impact on their environment by shifting the weather manually. There was even a chapter twenty-one pages from the end of the current one she was reading that discussed how ponies went about easing the stress they cause for the weather as a whole.
But try as she might, she could not focus on the passages within the textbook.
Her mind kept returning to the moment he stepped into a hole that had once held a large arched window of lead glass. His breathing came in labored panting. Those cold eyes glanced at her, taking everything in an instant.
Dropping the book onto her bed, Twilight wrapped her arms around herself to try to stave off the trembling, attempting to pushing the images from her head. But her mind would not stop.
Flash.
Swinging poor Golden Trot around like some kind of stick as he beat other colts over the head with him.
Flash.
Golden's broken body slammed through the window and straight into his father, making both sprawl in a heap.
Flash.
The glint of sharp incisors in the morning sunlight.
Suddenly warmth enveloped her in a tight embrace. It flushed away the dark thoughts her mind kept creating in random order.
Blinking away tears and shocked that she had been crying yet again, she craned her neck to see the Princess holding her in wings and arms. Her head propped on top of her own.
"P-p-princess?" The hoarse unsteadiness in her voice made her wince.
"Shhhhh shhh. It is okay, Twilight. You are safe." The gentle murmurs of her mentor soothed her. While not quite dispelling her tears, it went far in comforting her frightened mind.
For long moments the two sat rocking gently back and forth on her bed, where she had been since the early release of students after what had happened on the mezzanine of the cafeteria.
By now, the entire city knew. She wished she had never learned.
"Twilight, tell me what's wrong." The Princess spoke slowly, squeezing her a little.
"...oh, Princess. Orion...he... I…" It was like a vice had gripped her throat. She could not speak. Never in her life had she witnessed such violence.
"Oh, my little pony. It is alright. Orion, well, Orion demonstrated a side of himself I believe scarce few knew. From the way he spoke, I do not believe he knew of it himself." A vibration in her back made her realize that her mentor was giggling.
"Princess?" She asked wonderingly. The idea of her teacher somehow finding humor in all this was not something she couldn't ever believe. True, the monarch enjoyed good-natured satire as all ponies did, but to laugh at today's events was inconceivable.
The strangeness of it only continued as she was regaled with what had occurred in the Hall of Judgement. It explained the sooty smell that had been invading her nose.
"I have not been this embarrassed in a very long time." Princess Celestia finished with more giggles, a blush darkening her ears and cheeks.
"But….but he challenged you. Corrected you." That last, she said a touch breathlessly. The idea of correcting someone like her was entirely at odds with her view on what should be.
Her mentor rose and walked to the large bay window, which held a tiny bench built in so she could read with the breeze flowing in on warm days.
"Let this be a lesson—one for both of us. No matter how old we may get or how much we might have seen or learned, we can still be wrong from time to time. A lesson I believe I should take to heart most fervently." She replied, a bit of a grimace twisting her lips.
Twilight's eyes looked down. She was right, she supposed. But to her, Princess Celestia was the epitome of a standard all others should strive to be. To hear from that very symbol that she too, was fallible rocked her world in uncomfortable ways.
Another thought occurred to her, one of teeth and fear.
"I…I knew he was an omnivore, or so he had claimed. But his…teeth…" She trailed off.
"Are not nearly as big as they might have seemed. Illusion magic can do several frightening things." Her teacher had pivoted, looking at her gently.
"But I've looked at the records. There's never been a pony like him! Ever!" It was the reason for her doubt, though she had yet to figure out how to disprove his claims. Seeing the teeth and seeing him eat meat were two different things. He has always eaten fruits or vegetables when around her.
"That is...not exactly accurate, Twilight."
Bewildered, she could only blink at her mentor.
Princess Celestia fidgeted. Fidgeted!
"I suppose today's lecture will be based on pre-unification history. A very little known portion of it, at least."
Her horn blossomed in a cascade of soft golden light, and suddenly a blackboard appeared in the room. With it were four books looking decidedly old.
"Bear in mind, not many ponies, save for some very old scholars know much beyond that there was a time before the written word. For a great deal, time began when unicorns first constructed their alphabet…"
Twilight listened with rapt attention.
Sticking a finger in his ear, he gave it a wiggle. He had never heard Mrs. Evergarden yell this loudly before, or ever come to think of it.
To say the mare was angry was like saying water was wet, or the sky was blue.
The moment his escort, a Sergeant Errant Strikes, had recited the whole affair, the customarily reserved mare went up like a volcano.
"You promised! Promised! That you wouldn't do this!" She paced back and forth in a furry. She was stopping only to shake a finger under his nose. "Why did you get into a fight?! Look at your clothes! Where is your vest?!"
"It's like she didn't even listen…"
He had tried to, several times, to interject, but the diminutive mare would not hear it, and the sergeant was absolutely no help whatsoever. Whenever he looked at her for assistance, the bitch just grinned broadly at him.
Finally, when she had made her thirty-fifth turn in her attempt to wear a hole in the library floor, he shouted.
"For the love of God, will you listen!?" Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but he pushed on quickly. "They ganged up on me! They cornered ME! I tried to talk them out of it till the very end!"
Technically, the end had come with him hurling Golden's sorry ass through a window into a prince, but still, the point stood.
"I didn't want anything to do with it!" He pushed on as she opened her own mouth and spilled the whole thing in greater detail than the fair officer of the city guard had done.
When he finally finished, a sad look had replaced Mrs. Evergarden's angry features.
"I see. I'm sorry, Orion, I jumped the hedge a little too early on that one. Given your past history…" she trailed off.
Now that hurt. He had demonstrated more than enough over the past six years that he was a respectable and reasoned person. And still, his past haunted him.
Granted, this was far, far worse than breaking some idiot's nose or an arm, but it was the principal of the thing.
From the look on her face, she had seen his hurt expression and knew it for what it was.
"That was unfair of me, and you have been a model foal since coming to live here. You've even gone out of your way to help other foals adjust to their new environment. I am sorry." She bowed her head.
"It's….it's fine. I get it." He did, but it wasn't fine. But making a big deal about it wouldn't win him any prizes either. Better to let the matter drop than make the poor mare feel even worse than she already did.
"Anyway, I'm on house arrest till I get my marching orders. I am gonna be doing some type of community service during my month of suspension. Knowing Celestia, it'll be cruel and unusual." He really wasn't looking forward to whatever the hell she had planned.
"Princess Celestia." Pipped up Errant Strikes, a frown creasing her features.
"I just got done arguing with the Avatar of the Sun. Last I checked, I won that one. Wanna make it two and oh?" Her eyes bulged. For that matter, so did Mrs. Evergarden's.
"Oh shit. I may have glossed over that bit…" He groaned inwardly as he braced himself for the ensuing tirade.
"I cannot believe you argued with the Princess...and…and she yielded to you…" He didn't think it was that dramatic.
He had managed to hold back the fact that she turned into a mini-sun during that little clash of wills. He wasn't confident the mare could handle that one.
From the look the lieutenant gave him, she knew and actually approved of him keeping quiet. Though no doubt the Guardsmares that had been his escort into the castle would talk, hopefully, his ass would be elsewhere when news infested the city. That would be a day of regret.
"Yielded? Naw, more like we saw eye to eye, and I just happened to be on the winning end. As I understand it, she's not often wrong. I got lucky." That was true. He was damn lucky not to be a pile of ash right then.
"So, what is to happen now?" Sitting down across from him, a worried frown on her lips.
"Now, we wait for whatever the hell Celestia wants me to do for punishment." There was a knock at the foyer door. "No way could she have already come up with something." He grumbled getting up, only to be pushed right back in his seat by Errant.
"My duty is to make sure you stay put. There's no telling if you might run or not." He gave her a look and pointed at his horn. " Yeah, I get that. But rules are rules. You stay here. Mrs. Evergarden? If you would?"
"Oh! Yes! Sorry, I'll return shortly." She practically flew from the room.
True to her word, she did return. With Silver Bell hot on her heels.
"Afternoon, little colt. How are ye doing?" She ruffled his mane, which irritated him and made his heart leap in worry.
It had taken everything in him not to sweat at the idea of someone finding out that there was more than meets the eye with some of the ornaments tangled within.
"Oh, I could be doing better. Like, oh, I don't know, not being punished for defending myself." He grumbled.
"Aye, I suppose that is true. But no matter. I have your assignment for your vacation from school." He snorted at that, and Silver just gave him a dry look. "You'll be doing your penance in Ponyville! Working with the local school teacher there."
"Ponyville? Seriously?" He stopped and thought. "Well, there is a Humansville, so I guess that one passes."
"And to what will I be working toward with them?" On the surface, it seemed like a relatively benign assignment. But he suspected something worse.
"You'll be he'pin' with school foals there. Teachin' em all your fancy knowledge."
He could only continue his inner grumbles. He hated kids and hated teaching even more. His tutoring here had been under duress.
"Here's your tickets. One there and one back. Errant here will be there to keep an eye on you. Also, you'll be staying in the barracks out there. Hope you like stiff cots."
"Oh, Celestia, you bitch. Eat a fuckin' dick."
"Are you sure?" A musical voice asked softly. Its owner's face belied that voice, hard angles, and even harder look.
"Yes, ma'am. As far as can be determined, Orion Falls is under suspension and guard for the duration of one month." A stout stallion stood rigidly just inside the tent's entrance.
Gusting Gale was a smart pony. One that Valorant Hammer had used often in observation and infiltration.
Valorant sighed heavily. Well, this plan had been a bust. Six months of plotting had come to nothing.
"Any word on what happened?" She asked.
"The colt did not act the way it had been projected." He licked his lips nervously. "Instead of being cowed by the number against him, he...well, he fought back. Rather violently, according to eyewitnesses. Six colts are in the hospital. Major damage was inflicted onto a corridor connecting the gymnasium and cafeteria." He coughed and finished in a rush. "Also, both Prince Blueblood and his son have also been injured in the incident."
That got her attention.
"What?!" Gust cringed at his handler's shout of surprise. "What happened to them?"
"Apparently, they altered the plan to make his son, Golden Trot, into some sort of hero. I'm not sure how the idea got into Blueblood's head, but I can only speculate that he believed he could increase his son's status by making him the spear point of the altercation." As he went on, Volorant's head fell into her hands.
"The absolute idiot."
The fact that he suffered an injury because of his personal desires was small comfort to the fact that her lead was not going to be happy with any of this. Her sister was going to mock her relentlessly.
"Ma'am. If I may ask? Why are we doing all this for one colt? Spending resources like this for one pony so inconsequential makes no sense. So, why?"
Honestly, she had no answer. She suspected it was primarily due to ego, however. It was not uncommon for the "uppers" to be petty and look for opportunities to flex their influence.
She had heard how Orion had slipped away years ago in the dark of night. Aided by the then Matron of the orphanage he had stayed in, that disappearance had left Backwater fuming for months. The fact that she managed to assign her and her small team of three on this fool's errand showed two things.
One is that the mare was very hung up on a single foal for egotistical reasons. And two, she had significant pull within the Church itself to the degree, they could waste assets on this fool's errand. The question, however, remained: why now?
What had triggered a renewed interest in this one colt?
"I do not know, but tell Blizz to pack it in. We need to leave since we have no orders beyond this. The target isn't going to just wander into our camp."
Saluting smartly, Gusting Gale bolted from the tent, and soon enough, the flapping of wings could be heard dancing about the small encampment.
She had never understood other unicorns' disdain for pegasi, or even earth ponies for that matter. More often than not, their natural abilities outstripped any spell one of her own could create in their place.
Sighing, Valorant sat at her desk and began constructing her report in her head. Artful would no doubt mock her religiously for this, but the plan had been Backwater's, and she would take the brunt of the failure.
Still, why all of this for one colt that happened to insult a high-ranking member of the Church? She shook her head in vexation.
"Now, how do I word this to lay blame at that fool of a foal's hooves..?"
Author's Note
And a lovely Evening to all of you.
Hope your doing fine, not much to this little message but to "say hey and glad to see ya here."
I hope everyone is enjoying the new rewrite, as it has been interersting putting a more realistic spin while still having fun with the fantasy portion of what is.
As always leave a comment if you would like, I do love hearing from you guys. Hope your week goes very well indeed.
Also, just a reminder if you would like to support my work, I do have a Kofi that you can donate to if you have the spare funds to do so.
Thank you so much for reading.
Peace
Meet and Greet
Orion's first time on a train from this world was boring, save for a trio of griffons all gabbing away about some ruins that had suddenly appeared far to the north, there was nothing but the windows to really pay attention to.
The view was breathtakingly spectacular as the rail had taken them around the mountain itself, affording the passengers scenes of rolling grasslands, tiny towns, and a massive forest to the south. He vaguely remembered seeing that forest before, years ago on his journey to the city above.
Unlike the rest of Equestria, turning into the myriad of hues and colors of fall, that forest was just as verdant green as if it was the middle of summer. Only a small portion toward the west matched the rest of the world. He couldn't be sure, but he supposed the forest to the south was all evergreens of some kind.
He really should pay attention to his geography classes.
His new shadow, Seregant Strikes, had already begun snoring away across from him the moment they had left the station. Clearly, the mare wasn't as concerned with his potential escape as she had expressed the afternoon before.
Orion was beginning to think the guard had only wanted to watch the show that was Mount Evergarden going up in full eruption.
With an estimated two-hour arrival time, he was already bored. He poked at the nullstone ring sitting snugly on his horn. It was not his first encounter with the curious object, the last had been when he was six, so his experience with it was limited.
Attempting to channel magic through his horn the night before had been an interesting exercise. He could hold the raw flows of mana in his horn just fine, but when it came to forming a spell it all got sucked in like soda through a straw, straight into the ring itself. Even the bands’ assitances was for nothing.
He wondered, not for the first time, where all that magic went. Did it just act as some magical magnet and keep it all forever, or did it dissipate all that force back into the environment in a way that didn't affect the local space.
One rather interesting development was when he pulled in more and more magic through the bands on his arm. The ring had begun to strangely rattle. That should have been impossible with how it had sealed itself. He would have continued to increase the amount he was pulling in save for the fact that a headache had manifested itself the harder it shook.
Stopping had lessened the effect, but it did not go away completely, lingering into the night and part of this morning. Despite the pain, he couldn’t help but feel as if there was something to that rattle. It reminded him of a lesson, but of what he could not dredge up.
He sighed. With the train not quite packed but more than enough ponies scattered about in seats, he didn't want to look like he was trying to escape. Already more than a few had pointed out the ring and the guard. Hushed voices ladened with fear were irritating him as well as making his headache worse.
Instead he sat back and thought about what had happened yesterday.
At the time, he had been more preoccupied with how he had acted and what might have been had Celestia gone nova. But now he had time to organize what had happened before she started her nuclear fission.
While Blueblood had continued his demands for him to essentially be tortured, the Princess had frowned, staring at her nephew. Her horn was lit up, and she was focused on him like a viper on a bird. Minutes later it was like she already knew everything, claiming that he had been under observation since his return to the city in the summer.
A chill swept through him and his stomach dropped.
She had read the poor bastard's mind. That was the only explanation. She had read his mind somehow, and knew everything.
Chills turned to an outright shudder of fear.
In history class, they had learned of a group of unicorns who invoked a spell that would pull knowledge from the victim's mind. It was an egregious violation of the sanctity of one's own privacy, their sense of self. Not only that but it acted as a brain melt, completely rendering the victim incapable of doing much more than breathing. Once that particular possé of ponies had been punished, Celestia had signed a law outlawing the practice of mind magic beyond the theoretical, even that was heavily monitored.
It would seem that she believed that law never really applied to her. The question was, how did she do it without turning Blueblood into a fucking vegetable. More importantly, could she do it to himself? Had she refined the spell to such a degree that she no longer had to worry about the side effect?
"I mean, she could have actually been watching him. But the guy is a complete moron. If yesterday had really been his plan the poor bastard might need a helmet. There would be no reason to watch someone that dumb, would there?"
It felt like someone was gripping his heart. He stared vacantly at the scenery, without really taking it in anymore. Even if it was true that she had Blueblood and his family under observation, that meant he too, could be getting the same treatment.
It was not a comforting line of thought, though if there had been something she had learned, he doubted he would be on the way to Ponyville.
Still, the idea scared the hell out of him.
By the time the train had pulled into the station, he had come up with nothing to allay those fears. He wished he hadn't thought about it.
Stepping down the last step from beneath the station's red and green awning was like stepping back in time. Yet not…somehow.
As poor as Stalliongrad had looked in comparison to Manehattan and Canterlot, Ponyville was even more so. In terms of architecture at least.
Instead of tile, thatch dominated the town rooftops save for a few and the government buildings themselves.
Thatched roofs were accompanied by white plaster walls, cute arch-top lead glass windows, and small murals on some of the homes.
Unless he missed his guess, many of the ones he could see looked to be cutiemarks.
Well organized streets in a spiderweb pattern shot out from the largest building in town, City Hall. Gravel dominated the roads. But here and there showed signs of upgrades as cobblestone made more and more appearances the closer to the center they walked.
Every yard had a flower bed full to bursting with multiple hues of blossoms despite the falling temperatures.
However, what really caught his attention was the people. They were all bright smiles and kind greetings. No one seemed to take it amiss that a colt was walking down the street under guard, with a nullring on his horn, instead they waved at him.
Some did tut at him in an admonishing, if gentle, way. That came mares they passed.
What was really a surprise was the fact that it wasn't just earth ponies. They were the majority, of course, but they weren't alone.
Pegasi, unicorns, and even cows were intermixed with each other. Chatting away as if life was normal. There was no division although there was a rather lively argument breaking out in the marketplace Orion and his escort wandered by.
So much for ever having beef again.
His time in Canterlot had made this little trip so strange. These folks were friendly and kind. Canterlonians were assholes to each other. It was the snobbish kind, with veiled insults. The noblesse looking down on everyone else.
This was…well, quaint.
That was a good descriptor for this place. The townsfolk seemed to not have a care in the world.
His aforementioned guard yawned loudly and stretched. The moment they had stopped she had snapped awake as if she had been on alert all morning and hustled him out of the train and station. How Errant Strikes was able to do all that so suddenly he could only chalk up to military training.
Now his escort walked next to him, hands clasped behind her head, smiling and nodding greeting to everyone that gave one, either first or in return.
He just shook his head in amusement.
"So boss lady, where the hell are we headed?" Orion finally asked after they had gotten to the center of town.
"Behind the Hall. The local guard station has some barracks for in town patrol. You'll be staying there, and it's closest to the school. A good thing too because a village this size only really has one." She remarked.
"Only one huh?"
He kept his comments to himself. He liked the mare from a personal standpoint, but her being here was already likely to make this tour of pain worse.
Walking around, what he could only describe as a colorfully garish, non-descriptive, standard government building, they soon found the rather compact tower of the local guard. A round, four story structure painted to match the city hall in all its glory.
Like every other building, there was a flower garden that wrapped around it, and several pots full of the same sitting about the doorstep.
They had completely mislabeled their village. Should have been called Flowerville instead.
Stepping inside had the usual affair for a building of its function. A pair of desks, several chairs, and a map of the town itself sitting on the opposite wall of the door.
Turns out Ponyville had more than one point of interest.
There was another market on the far side of town, near the farms that sat outside the village. An old warehouse near where the train station sat. It was currently labeled derelict, and of all things a huge tree south from them called the Golden Oak Library.
"Why would you name a tree a library? It's a tree not a giant fucking book."
Each place had their own spider web of roads and alleyways that blended with the overall set up.
Honestly, it was better planned out than Canterlot. Other than the one long main street that went from entrance to the castle, the roadways and side streets were an absolute nightmare to navigate.
Behind one of the desks, sat a rather large earth pony stallion. Looking at the tan and blue maned pony in the standard uniform of the guard, he gaped. The stallion was jacked.
He could not help but notice that everyone was bigger here. Especially the stallions. A massive shift from the normally smaller demure population of males back in the city.
"Jesus, what do they feed you man?!" He bellowed as the guard stood up to come around the desk.
The stallion's laughter was his first response.
"Not sure what "Jesus" means but my ma and pa fed me the labor of the land, colt."
He had picked up the local accent early on but it hadn't sunk in at first. Now, with this country bumpkin yapping at him he realized all too late where he actually was.
Hillbilly ponies. He had been sent to help teach kids in a hillbilly town.
"Goddamnit. I left the country farm life for this very reason!"
Instead of laughing at him as well, Errant had taken to shooting sultry looks at the man. "So, I imagine this isn't the only thing big about you." She touched his arm, Orion was sure she was talking about his silo instead.
"Hah! Sorry ma'am, but I'm already in a herd of six. I doubt they would tolerate another addition." He laughed, but did run an appreciative eye over her, which she returned with interest.
Orion Falls groaned with disgust.
"If you two are gonna dig that pit of affair, can you at least show me to my bunk, cell, or spot on the floor where I'll be sleeping when I am not being run ragged by brats." Both adults blushed furiously.
"Orion, you're being rude." The mare hissed at him, while the still unnamed stallion looked elsewhere.
"And you need to get laid more often, your acting like it's March for fuck sakes. Can we just get on with this? The pair of you can flirt all ya want when I'm happily elsewhere." He shot back.
More blushes followed, with stammering peppered in for the flavor of embarrassment he had gotten out of them.
It didn't take long, and unlucky him, he was bunking with the rest of the guards on the second floor. At least the cots were comfortable.
Yay.
Collard Green, the stallion's name if anyone could believe, was a Ponyvillian born and raised. As he showed him around he splurged his life story and family history.
Orion didn't think it could be done with as small a place as the Ponyville guard barracks. But the Guardstallion improvised, and drug him across the small town itself as well. The excuse that he should know where everything was the only reason given.
The Greens, a family name as it turned out, had moved here with the Apple Family and had helped establish the community at its founding.
Well, it was more of a following after. The Apples being pioneers here as they were the first family to settle some seven hundred or so years ago, the records and tales were never quite specific enough, in the valley. At first they had named the place Sweet Apple Valley. Named after a matriarch of the family who died centuries ago.
But as more families arrived, the Greens being the first, new names were brought up to name the town. Greenville, Floral Town, the list went on.
There was even a brief two month span in which the town was dubbed Nowhere. A prank by two fillies that Canterlot's Zoning and Agricultural departments both fell for.
In Orion's opinion that had been the only interesting point of Ponyville's history. But good Ol' Collard was on a roll and could not be stopped.
Soon enough the small village, the families had gotten together and after a month of arguments and brawls, had settled on the name of Ponyville. Beating out Terra Equine by a fair margin due to the fact that by this time the town was flooded with more than just earth ponies, namely unicorns and pegasi.
In Green's opinion that was rather speciest, if he said so himself, and he did, but at the time it likely made sense to the denizens. Even now there were only ponies living in the fair size town, but they had been getting a lot of griffons and a couple of minotaurs showing interest in the past decade.
A new name change was likely in their future.
It didn't stop there unfortunately for Orion. The Officer of the Ponyville Guard continued on with a more indepth telling of his families origins, of a farmstead in the Blackhoof Hills north of the Dragonlands.
How his great-great-grandsire, because for some reason grandpa wasn't good enough, received a letter from the Apple's matriarch inviting him to uproot his herd and follow after to a valley that was said to be; "'verflowing with life jest perfect for farmin'".
As he was beginning to tell the tale of their journey frought with hunger and danger, Orion had figured out how to tune the stallion out.
There was much rejoicing in his soul.
"And this is to be a new bakery of some sort!" Collard finished with a wave in direction of a half built circular structure. It looked like the beginning of a tower till you got to roughly where the third floor would be, a strange conglomeration of wood at very odd angles sat like a lump up there.
The sudden change in conversation had jerked him from blissful daydreaming, and so the first thing that came from his mouth had not gone through the necessary checks and balances that he normally goes through in order not offend anyone.
"That, is going to be one UGLY bakery." He regretted the moment he said it of course.
A skinny yellow stallion currently applying a layer of plaster to the outside of the building spun around, spraying wet plaster everywhere.
He was clearly the owner, but instead of anger and rage there was only anguish. With tears rolling down his cheeks he dashed out of sight behind the structure.
As sobs began to echo from the alley, both Orion and Collard beat a hasty retreat back to the barracks.
"Well, that's one place I can't go to." Which was just as well, the baked goods was likely going to end up way too sweet for him.
The following morning found the black colt standing on the step of the school building.
"Looks like a fucking gingerbread house…" he mummured, carefully keeping it quiet as a stream of foals passed by him.
It was larger than he was expecting. The outside painted red and shingled in a dark hue of the same. The intricate pink and white line work in swooping strokes was a nice touch, if a tad garish and girly to him.
"The hell is up with the pink hearts?"
Unlike every other picture he had ever seen of these places of lesser learning, save for the coloring, there was an extension built on the right hand side. It was smaller, but constructed much the same as the rest including the eye wrenching color palette.
His hackles suddenly rose, he was being watched.
Turning around he was surprised to find two fillies looking close to the same age as himself, maybe a little older, watching him.
One, an orange furred blond maned cowpony wearing overalls and a red flannel shirt was eyeing him with suspicion. Freckles, or at least the semblance of them, speckled the area under her deep green eyes. Those eyes turned to a glare as her gaze fell on the nullring still on his horn.
He had tried getting Collard, or any of the guards, to remove the thing. That had not worked of course, as each of them cited the law about disobedience to the Princess's will.
The other filly, well almost a mare the way she dressed, was far less hostile, though she wore a pensive frown with full purple painted lips on an all white face. Her deep purple mane was stylized in a way that a curl actually covered her left eye just a bit. And like the cowpony's green, these were a stunning purple.
Dressed in a rather conservative blue and white dress cut just above the knee, she was the very picture of beauty and sophistication.
Instead of her frown being directed at his horn, it instead was being focused on his clothes of all things. A white hand slowly reaching out. "....I could do better…"
He wanted to be angry, but he had bought the plain long sleeve orange shirt and black pants at a budget. At this juncture of his life he didn't really see the need to spend a ton of money on garments that he would likely grow out of in a few months. So her dissing his duds was really par for the course.
"They were cheap. Do you have any idea how much clothes cost in Canterlot?" It had been the first thing any of them had said to each other, in the silence of the moment, those words were deafening.
Instead of startlement, angry face just got angrier, and frowny face went in the complete opposite direction. A smile, warm and excited, exploded on her face.
"You're from Canterlot?!" Okay, so he could definitely use hearing aids now. What was up with that voice?
The purple maned filly did a little dance in place, and before he could react, had grabbed his hands in her own. She had a strong grip.
"Oh I've always dreamed of living in Canterlot! The glamor! The culture! The ponies of influence!" Now he could place the accent.
He had seen way too many movies.
She sounded like a blue blood rich kid from one of those lifetime movies in New England. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was called though.
"I don't see what's all great 'bout a fancy pants place like dat." The other spoke sourly. "It's all fakery and wotnot I tell ya." She snorted derisively.
"Oh nonsense Applejack! You just have no culture! I fear there is no hope for you!" Spoke the still unnamed of the pair, if rather dramatically.
"Rares! Ya know we have plenty of culture right here in Ponyville. Ya don't need no fru fru ponies blinding you with all their fancy speeches and weird parties!" She shot back, arms crossed under a surprising amount of breast. Okay maybe they were way older than him.
The pair began to bicker at one another, arguments flying across the short distance so fast he could not even hope to keep up.
"Fillies!" The shout made him nearly jump out of his fur. Spinning around he hopped a few steps back and to the right of Applejack.
He had not heard the plump school marm approach in her conservative dark blue dress.
Short and a good deal into her middle years, there was gray and white streaking her tight bun of yellow, the green mare glared at the two ponies who now we're looking a good deal chastened.
"School has begun and you sit here like hens arguing over the corn. Get your tails in there and sit proper! I expected better of you two." Her eyes did a better job of herding than any sheep dog in existence could ever have hoped as they followed, more like chased, the pair inside.
Orion could only stand there, bemusement painted on his face as he too watched the fillies retreat inside.
"And now who are you, dear?" Hard blue eyes had softened considerably, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a way that made him reevaluate her age.
"Oh, Orion Falls. Not sure you've heard about me yet." He quickly responded. She now had a pleasant demeanor, with a smile bright and happy, but he hadn't forgotten that hard eye'd glare she had given the two before.
This was a mare who ruled her classroom.
"Ah yes, I have indeed. I am Mrs. Sunflower. Emerald Sunflower. And you my young colt, are the trouble maker from up in Canterlot." The smile had disappeared, but neither was she upset just yet.
"Uh, yeah. How much of that have you heard?"
"From what I've heard, you injured a great deal of ponies with magic." And there's the frown.
"Actually, it was more physical than anything else. The most I used my magic was deflecting their spells away from me," he gave a frown of his own, "and they came after me. I'm being punished for going a bit farther than I intended."
"So that's it. Couldn't control your temper could ya? Well I wouldn't go trying anything here if I was you." She shot a thumb back toward the school house. "That little filly, Applejack, has a brother that will bend you into shapes no pony has a right to even be in. You just be minding your manners and respecting boundaries. You're to be helpin' me teach these foals', and I'd like to see what a fancy education in Canterlot gets ya."
"Oh, well this will just be a barrel of fun now won't it?" He decided it was best not to try and dissuade her current conceptions.
At mentioning he was the one attacked her eyes had hardened. She would not believe him. Not unless Celestia herself hauled her big white ass down here and told her. Even then video evidence would likely be required judging by that stare.
"Now in ya git. I have a class to teach and you got work to do." With that she spun around and walked inside. He followed in her wake, a sour twist to his mouth.
"This is gonna be fun…" Somewhere in the conversation, Collard had seen himself out of the situation.
Introductions were easy, once the class had calmed down and stopped oggling the newcomer.
Applejack didn't trust him. His baggy clothes were rumpled his mane all done up in a mass of braids and loose hair, completely unkempt. His tail just barely looked like a brush had run through it.
Granny always said you can judge a pony by the way they care for themselves.
At present, this Orion Falls, looked like a bum. Even worse was why he was here.
"Setting the record straight before rumors begin. I am here as part of my community service. I won't go into details, as many of you here are likely too young to really understand. Suffice to say I am here because of a really bad fight, that I did not begin, but a lot of colts got hurt over it. I went too far and I was angry."
As he continued on she noted that Mrs. Sunflower's eyebrows had begun a march to her maneline. Was he lying, he didn't seem like he was lying. If anything she was surprised at the strange honesty she was feeling from him. That didn't make her like him any though.
To her, he was trouble just waiting to plop down on your head, like an apple left too long on the branch.
"I will do my best to help Mrs. Sunflower in her duties, and maybe impart some of what I know to anything you're studying." He finished.
"Thank you Orion for that rather…honest, introduction." The teacher commented dryly.
"Lies only serve to do two things, hurting those around you, and shelter the ignorant. Lying here would gain no one anything."
"No one?"
A hand shot up, little Trolly Cart was waving his arm for all he was worth.
Orion looked at Mrs. Sunflower, and she nodded. "Uh yes?" He pointed and looked back at the colt.
"Um uh, what's...what's a "no one"?" His squeaky little voice chirped out. The little pegasus had a lilting voice like many in his race.
"Well, let me ask you a question for that question. Is a griffon a pony?" Rather than answer, Trolly's head just shook back and forth. "How about a minotaur?" Again, the same head shake.
As he plowed on through the list of intelligent creatures in the world, Applejack began to wonder where he was going with this.
"Sorry for so many questions, but it was to make a point. When you say anypony, or nopony, or any of the other pronouns that are often used, you are actually excluding a fair bit of the global population. Not that it matters, as where you live is more often that not, pony populated. But my point is that when I speak, I make an effort to include all in my conversations. Even if they are not there." He rolled his hand in a circular motion. "It's not... respect, it's common courtesy. Respect is an entirely different category that I won't get into today. But I hope that explains my opinion on the matter, and also why I say things the way I do."
Trolly only nodded, a bewildered expression on his little face. He didn't get it, but she did. It was oddly…nice, coming from somepony that was a troublemaker. It was almost certainly far away from what she expected from him.
When she looked over to her friend, she could only sigh.
Of course, Rarity had not even noticed. In her hands was one of the latest fashion magazines. So no point in getting her opinion on the subject of this new colt in the class.
"There will be more time for questions later." Mrs. Sunflower said, followed with a resounding clap of her hands. "Foals, please open your history books to chapter seven. Today we will be discussing the failure…"
As their teacher went on, Applejack continued to eye Orion, he somehow had already gotten his hands on a textbook of his own, and was flipping through the pages with an amused grin.
"Yer not to be trusted, bucko…" She believed it too. He looked far too happy for somepony both suspended and being punished.
That, and he had been lying at one point. He did not regret what he did. Not at all.
The first day actually went pretty well for him. The kids were attentive for one. The books were at least printed in the last century so already better than what he had expected, so that was two. And while Mrs. Sunflower could be harsh she was also fair.
Going over the lesson plans while the brats were on recess, he noticed the lack of science on anything.
"Hey Mrs. S. You barely have a science hour. Mostly it's just reading scientific journals so old I'm pretty sure they've been disproven by now."
"Hmm, oh yes. I'm afraid science isn't exactly my strong suit. Most herds 'round here just want their foals to know reading, writing, math and history. The rest…" She just shrugged.
"Well, mind if I take it up? I actually know a fair bit." A number of simple experiments had begun to come to mind that he could show them and explain. It'd also give him something to do besides handing out papers and the occasional sweep of the floors. Might as well have some fun, and if the kids were having a good time, then they weren't being annoying.
Her face went neutral, stone had more expression.
"Why?"
Shrugging uncomfortably under that gaze he was reminded of what he had said before. Don't hurt those around you.
"Honestly, I'm gonna be bored to tears if all you end up having me do is sweep and hand out papers. I figured since I know at least the level of education they should have in that department, I can give them a show of a few simple experiments and explain the reason and why it happens. Who knows, I might be able to inspire a few to become future scientists." Not likely.
The minute stretched into two, then three before she finally spoke.
"You are not what I was expectin'." She finally said. "When I was told that I was gettin' a troubled colt who destroyed his lunchroom in rage, I'll be honest, I was half expecting a monster. Since you got here you've been courteous, helpful, and patient. That last is made more surprisin' by the fact that you haven't shown the slightest bit of annoyance at all the questions being thrown at you."
"Well before you go thinking the charges were false or made worse than they actually were, I should just tell you flat out that yes, I did do all of that." He chuckled. He missed the show Family Matters. "Though it wasn't my intention to go that far at first."
"At first?"
He sighed and sat down on the edge of a desk. "Let's be honest, those asshats got what they deserved." Her face tightened at his choice of vocabulary, but he pushed on. "They let a lone idiot talk them into attacking me over my dietary needs. All because the father of said idiot took offense at the fact that, unlike any pony out there, I need meat in order to maintain my health. Prince BlueDouche the Bloodcanoe can eat me." He laughed. It was a good name if he thought so himself.
"Top it off, I am almost positive there was something else going on, but I'd be damned if I knew what." He didn't want to give voice to the fears that plagued him about Celestia right that minute. Odds are those thoughts would likely not be well received.
"I...see." To say she looked floored by his exposition would have been an overstatement. Perturbed would be more accurate judging from her face. "So you regret that the event happened, but not the end."
His grinned and nodded.
"The only regret is I didn't break more ribs on Blueblood when I chucked his idiot of a brat at him." He frowned. "But it shouldn't have gone down like that to begin with. So yes, I regret that it happened, but not my actions, I tried my best to keep it from going down that road..."
"And I should let you teach the science hour? With that language?" Okay that was fair.
"Maybe you shouldn't, but I've been honest with you. And I've gone YEARS without hitting anyone before then. That's the truth too." Okay not his strongest argument. "But I am an orphan, don't know if they told ya that. I've had to deal with kids as young as they, sometimes even younger, for years. That's where my familiarity and patience with their constant questions and annoying habits comes from. Hell, I've tutored a good deal of them before their adoptions."
He was often irritated by children's presence in his life, but Orion liked to think he had built up a pretty good tolerance for them. Sometimes they even made him laugh. Still hated tutoring. But he really didn't want to be that bored here.
He wasn't about to argue his language, he had already resolved not to change. Though he was surprised she never bothered to interject when he educated the class on proper vernacular. All the other teachers just hopped on him the moment he submitted a paper.
Always a mark off. Bitches.
"They really should have told me more about you than what you have done." She looked at the clock, a massive ticking thing, hung up on the wall. "Recess is almost over, I will give you this week. But you will tell me what you plan to teach them in detail. If I don't like it, you won't be doing anything but what I give you. Understand?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely. Tell me, what do you know about volcanoes?" He smiled. This might be fun after all.
While the first day went by quickly and with few interruptions, the second day turned into chaos the moment after lunch was finished that afternoon.
Mrs. Sunflower and him had gone over the lesson he had planned for the week the night before, and he had given her an example of the baking soda volcano he had planned for the end of the week. She found it delightful. Her word, not his.
Today was supposed to be the build up to that day. Starting with general principles of how a volcano works and it's diagrams.
Instead, the moment she had stepped out of class to let him teach, the little shits had begun throwing random nonsense at each other and him. Screams and shouts as some of them began bickering with each other.
Ten minutes in and he still had not gotten the class under control. He wanted to scream. To throw something himself, but he knew Mrs. Sunflower was watching.
The two oldest, Rarity and Applejack, had not taken part in the chaos. One had her face buried in the same magazine he had seen the day before. The other, oh the other was no doubt the ringleader of this circus.
The orange filly had her hands shoved deep in the blue overall's pockets, a smirk plastered on her face. This was going to be a daily event if he didn't put a stop to it now.
Walking stiffly to the blackboard under a barrage of projectiles he placed his fingertips against it and dragged down long and slow. It always fascinated him that he still had nails on the tips of his fingers. Now he used those nails to bring agony.
The resulting screech made fillies and colts alike squeal and cover their ears, Rarity had screech nearly as loud, tossing her magazine halfway across the room.
The cowfilly had sat up ramrod straight ears laid back and a scowl on her face. When she went to open her mouth after he was done he jabbed a finger at her.
"Don't you dare. I know you had something to do with this." He jabbed the same finger at a little filly in a soft red dress. "What's your name kiddo?"
Rubbing her ears she gave him a baleful glare that only a child could give, offended and pouty.
"My name is Roseluck, and I'm not a goat!" The others, recovering from the noise, giggling a little at her expense.
He smiled. First thing one has to know when dealing with kids is not to let them ruffle you too much, and to show them you want to be nice.
"Sorry little lady, I call everyone kiddo like one would call them a foal. It's slang." By then he had walked over and ruffled her mane, getting a giggle from her. "Hey bud, mind if I sit on your desk for a minute?" Trolly, if he remembered correctly, just nodded and moved his books over.
Sitting down he looked at Rose again.
"Now, before I took over this class, Mrs. Sunflower had been telling me that you all were amazingly well behaved. But the evidence of today shows you're all acting like a bunch of monkeys given sugar injections. What gives?"
No one said a word. The little filly with the two tone pink mane just stared at her desk, biting her bottom lip.
He sighed.
"Listen, I have a job. It's a punishment for being a bad...pony." He wanted to die. It was rare that he ever put himself, even in his own head, in the same category as the rest of them. "I'm just trying to help Mrs. Sunflower in something I know for a fact that I can do. But I won't be able to teach you all something legitimately cool if I have to corral you all into some semblance of order. So come on, what's up?"
Still no luck from little Rose, but the colt that sat before her piped up.
"Applejack said you was a bad pony." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bitch's face go pale. "She...she said we shouldn't listen to you because you're a criminal, and criminals ain't worth the trouble of listening to."
Orion's head slowly turned toward the cowfilly, eyes ablaze with restrained fury.
"And the truth shall set you free. You, Missy. You and I will have words later." With that he dismissed her from thought. Time to rally the kids.
"Thank you…? You know what? I don't know your name either. And that's a shame. What is it kid?"
"I'm Mirror Finish! And I ain't no goat either!" Which got more laughter from the assemblage of foals.
Orion could only roll his eyes in mock indignation as he reminded them all it was slang.
"Alright, alright. You all poked fun at me enough. How would you all like to learn about something really cool?" To that he got a chorus of excited brat noises. "Today I want to talk about volcanos." Noises died as confused glances took their places. "You know, those mountains that happen to spew smoke and sometimes really hot rock?"
"Oh you mean like Mount Surefire? That place is real scary!" Roseluck was cowering in her seat.
"I suppose volcanoes are a bit frightening, and indeed they can be dangerous if you're foolish. I would caution you to never climb one for instance. But this week I hope to teach you how they work, why they exist, and more importantly have a little fun making a mock version of our own. Using different materials of course."
"Ya mean ta tell us yer gunna be makin' one explode in here?!" Shouted Applejack. This was too good of a chance to knock her down a peg.
"No you silly goose." PG language, he had to keep reminding himself of that. "This by the way foals, is the pony version of an eruption." He jabbed a thumb toward her. That got the expected laughter, which forced the now blushing cowfilly to sit her ass back down.
"No, we will be making one, actually two, this Friday. One for show, the other so you can see how it all works. The materials we will be using will be safe. Simple chemicals you can find in any home in fact. But we will all still wear proper PPE, no sense in letting vinegar fly into someone's eye by accident."
Another hand rose. After he gestured to her she responded.
"What's PPE? Oh and I am Carrot Top!"
"Pleasure to meet you Miss Top." He responded with a smile. This might not be so bad after all. "PPE stands for Personal Protective…."
She had been hesitant to let the colt take over her class. As things started to devolve into chaos she had almost stepped in to put a stop to all of it.
When that screeching noise echoed about the classroom, she had her hand on the handle when he started speaking, first starting with Applejack.
As he went on, Emerald took her hand away and listened. A smile growing on her face. He sounded like a stallion thirty years into the business, knowing that he had to work to get stubborn little ponies to listen to him. She had to muffle her laughter when she heard Orion speak on the truth and how it sets one free.
An excellent saying.
Then, miraculously, he began to sway the fillies and colts to his side.
He may claim he doesn't like foals, but he was amazingly talented in gaining their interest. If she were nearly a hundred years younger she might have tried her hand at him in a few years.
With renewed hope she listened in as he began teaching them a subject she had never known existed.
Well, he couldn't blame her for trying to run away the moment the bell rang, but Orion was much faster than the cowfilly could ever hope to be. Well as far as she knew at least.
"Hey there Blondie! Going somewhere?"
She jerked as if struck. He had managed to get ahead of her at a tree down at a bend in the road heading out of town.
Though he did cheat to get here by slipping out ten minutes before class ended. Mrs. Sunflower had only nodded when she saw him slowly edge his way to the door. She knew what was up.
During the last recess they had discussed how he was going to deal with her, and had surprised the school marm with the suggestion of bringing this up with her family.
He figured if anyone would get her to not attempt future disruptions, it would be them.
"What do you want. I got chorin' to do and I don't need some city colt gettin' in muh way." She balled up her fists, glaring hard at him.
"Oh nothing much, just gonna tag along home with you to tell your family about what you did, or tried to do. I figure you can explain your actions there for them as well as for me." He smiled, keeping any sense of malice or glee from reaching his lips.
He had decided this must be done with as little emotion as possible. Really drive it home for her that this was because she had done badly.
Once again the insides of her ears paled. "Ya can't!" It came out a demand but was definitely more of a plea.
"I can, and I will. I want my suspension to go smoothly and I'll be damned if you try this shit again. I'm nipping it in the ass right fuckin' now." So much for keeping his emotions in check. "Now, march young lady."
The walk to her farm was lovely. For him not for her. She drug her hooves in the dirt as if bearing the weight of a cross and all the world's sins on her back.
Well it was hers to carry as she made the damn thing herself so to speak. Beside the view was gorgeous.
With the fall colors just turning the leaves to reds, oranges and browns, it was still a surprise to see greens intermixed in the collage of colors. The oddity was what sat behind some of the farms dotting the south side of the road they traveled on.
A massive forest of green some three or four hundred yards from where they walked towered over damn near everything. Bizarrely every type of plant, from evergreen to jungle bushes, packed side by side in twisted versions of themselves along the fields that had been cut out to make room for crops.
The Everfree Forest. It had been one of the questions he had wondered about, and the guards told him that the place was death waiting for anyone willing to wander in there.
Manticores, chimeras, and even a living bundles of branches known as Timberwolves existed inside, just to name a few. Every now and then some creature from the forest would make an incursion into the lands of Equestria and it often took an entire brigade to find and root out the beasts.
Apparently there were legends around the woodland as well, but he couldn't get anyone to talk about it other than to tell him not to go anywhere near it. He resolved when he got back to Canterlot he would see if Twilight would be willing to procure him books discussing the Forest and its myths.
Like it or not, the filly had lit a fire in him learning about the world's history.
To the west and northwest stood the Whitetail woods. Unlike the untamed jungle to the south, the woods were well forested but not to the tangle the other was. Birch, oak, and several he didn't know the name of stood tall and straight. All with at least some of the hues of autumn in their branches.
Apparently there was rumors of a tribe of deer living somewhere inside. The forest was named after them, but no one had seen a hair of the species in some time.
Every now and then Orion would catch his prisoner, for lack of a better term, watching him with sullen resentment. Her hooves would always slow at that point and he would just turn and smile at her.
"As I said before, I got till eight tonight, I doubt you do working on a farm and all. I believe you said something about "chorin'”?" It was a struggle to keep the malice out of his voice.
He was angry, and rightly so in this case. But maybe too heated about it. He would have to find something to hit later tonight, it was clear to him he still had a fair bit of anger from what happened at school a few days ago.
Glumly she faced forward and resume her death march. It was all rather dramatic with all the sighing and angry mutters issuing forth from her mouth.
They passed three farms before coming up to the cart path that lead up to a rather large, quaint two story farm house. From this distance all he could really tell was the roof was red tiled, and that the walls were coated in white wash.
Your standard barn rose to it's east, bright red as the apples that were in the trees they had passed.
It was like he walked onto any farm in the south of America.
"Well, this is a rather lovely homestead." He remarked. It was too.
"Keep yer opinions to yerself." She grumbled.
"I will spread my opinions wherever I may find fertile soil for them to take root in the minds of the masses."
"Wut?"
He snorted in laughter and gave her a gentle push. "Take me to your leaders earth filly." The fact that she didn't understand the joke just made him laugh harder.
Then a cough, a clearing of a throat, snapped his mouth closed and he turned slowly about to face red flannel.
He thought himself a real comedian. But that was okay, the colt could think of himself all he liked because Applejack had noticed something he had not.
Her brother, Big Macintosh, had been following them since the East Orchard. With a grin she watched as Orion took several steps back after coming face to navel with her brother.
"Okay, seriously. The hell do they feed you guys down here?" He said in wonder. "First that guard at the barracks, now your giant ass. Are their any normal ponies around here, or did the whole lot of you decend from Clydesdales?"
Her grin vanished like the Apple Family Cider during cider season.
"Why ain't he scared? And wut in tarnation is a Clydes-whatsit?"
The colt displayed not a hint of discomfort other then rubbing his neck as he craned it back to look at her older sibling.
Big Mac merely grunted, which was as much as surprise for the red stallion. Surprise at the fact that he hadn't scared this pony out of his wits.
"Not much for words, huh? Hey Applebottom. Whose the mountain of muscle here?"
"That's muh brother, Big Macintosh." She said numbly. This was not going as well as she'd hoped. Applejack had been hoping that one look at her brother would have been enough to send this varmint scurrying for the hills.
"Dude, I'm gonna call you Diesel. You won't understand the reference and it would require years of engineering history to explain it to you. Believe me, it fits and is not an insult." He gave her a glance and then a grin of his own bloomed on his face. "Oh...I see. Judging by that sour look you expected him to scare me off. Well, he is very intimidating, and if I was in the wrong, I'd be nervous as a pig to market. But Mrs. Sunflower told me a little about your family, so I was expecting this."
She was stunned. AJ never imagined her honest, respectable teacher would take the side of this lowdown scoundrel!
"Hey Diesel, where's the family at. Applejack here did a bad and she's gonna tell them all about it."
The look she received from her brother was all disappointment, that hurt worse than the likely tongue lashing and weeks of chores she would get extra for all this. She hated disappointing her brother.
Big Mac's hand shot up and pointed at the house.
"There?"
"Eeeyup."
"Stallion of few words indeed, I get that. Thanks bud. Come on Blondie. Let's go talk to your folks." Without wait he just marched off, a smile on his face.
She followed after, feeling her brothers disapproving stare on the back of her head.
This had been a bad idea from that start, her friend had been right. When she tried to talk Rarity into helping her rile the foals up against him. Her best and only pal in the world had told her it was the worst plan ever.
She should have listened.
Everyone was glaring at the filly in the room. For good reason too. This whole thing was stupid as hell.
In the center of the livingroom sat the four of them with Applejack standing on a rug in the middle.
Orion had chosen a lovely wooden rocking chair that somehow seemed to fit snuggly with his body. But the comfort that came from the seat had vanished as he heard the incredibly bad take on his apparent punishment.
Her parents were obviously equally as floored as he was.
Pear Butter had been all warm smiles and excited gossip when her daughter had shown up with a colt on the porch. He could only guess at the time that he was the first "boy" she had ever brought home and she, of course being a mom, had taken it the wrong way.
Now the the peach color mare flushed with embarrassment as her daughter told them all what she did and why. Gripping her flannel dress she gave an admonishing glare at her errant foal.
The father, Bright Mac, had been much less excited, not exactly angry, but none too pleased to see him either. He seemed at first resigned at the fact that his little filly was finally taking up with colts.
Now he sat on the love seat with his wife, a blank expression on his face that just screamed shame a mile off. He kept stroking his corncob pipe that he had pulled from his red flannel pocket with a lemon yellow thumb.
The last of the present family, was a green mare named Granny Smith. There was a theme here, or at least a family uniform, because the sour green mare was also in flannel. Red of course.
But she too was giving a disapproving stare at the young mare.
This whole thing was stupid as hell, and he kinda had to blame himself. When he had given the censored version of why he was there, he didn't imagine it could be taken anyway other than what he meant. And for the foals it likely was good enough.
However, Applejack had a strong sense of honesty and honor. One she put many against and found them wanting. He was just the latest, but she didn't have the whole story, and judging by a few glances from the rest of the family, he was not being viewed in that favorable of a light either.
"So you believe that I am a rotten pony that likes to hurt others. And I'm only being punished because I got caught. Correct?" A nod. She had told her parents and grandmother of what had given rise to her thoughts. "You didn't sense any remorse in me about beating those colts up, and you believed my punishment insufficient to the crime. That sum it up nicely?"
Another nod, though slower.
"Well, your right. I don't regret what I did to those idiots. They've had it coming for awhile. Don't!" He snapped when she opened her mouth. Her father took on a hard stare. Attention fully on him now. "The reason why, is because I won't ever regret defending myself."
Applejack's quirked her head in bewilderment. "Wut you mean defending yerself. You attacked those ponies. Didn't ya?"
"I did not. In fact, for the majority of my time in that school, I have avoided altercations as much as possible. I not-promised Mrs. Evergarden that I would try my best not to get into any fights while I lived at her orphanage."
"You're an orphan?" That had been the first time her father had spoken. The thick muscled stallion had remained silent and allowed the mares to speak the majority of the time, so the deep baritone had been rather startling coming out of the rather quiet pony. It seems the son shares his restraint in verbal communication.
"Yep, and don't frown like that. I rather enjoy it. I get to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the world and my needs are all met." Unless they could get him a bike, then yes for the most part his needs were met. But they didn't need to know that.
"But what 'bout a family of yer own?" Granny spoke up.
He sighed heavily, and explained. Explained why he didn't want a family or a herd of his own, why he did what he did on the mezzanine at school. Everything. He hoped this wouldn't have to be done every time he met new people.
"That...that's so sad." Bright Mac bawled.
"Come on, dude. Be a man for fucks sake." He couldn't believe it was the barrel-chested of a stallion that broke down instead of the mares. It was another reminder of this world's gender roles being reversed for the most part.
"And yer fine with just bein' an orphan, colt?" Granny had actually poked him in the chest. Hard. She looked ancient, but the mare didn't waver.
"Yeah." Her frown deepened. "Really! I don't like pretending I'm something I'm not." It was already hard just trying to be one of them. Stacking on being a dutiful colt role would be just too much. And he didn't think he could say "I love you" to any adult figure.
"This whole fight was started by others, but it was clear you was winnin' it. Why go so far?" The motherly look was gone from Peach's face.
He thought about that for a few minutes. He could just tell them that he was in rage mode, and for the most part he was. But a small part of Orion had still been in some control.
"Have you ever wondered why you don't stick your hand in a fire?"
"Ya hand gets burnt plum off." Applejack's mother said dryly. "What's that have ta do with you beatin' poor foals who couldn't fight back?"
"Okay, first and foremost, those little idiots started it. We can argue that till we're both blue in the face and the point will still stand." He hadn't realized he had jabbed a finger at the now offended mare till he dropped his hand giving an apologetic look. "Secondly, there is this: when the first pony started messing with that roaring power known as fire, they had to learn first pain in order to respect it. Oh yes, first fear was invoked, but eventually the ancestors had learned fire bad when mishandled. In time they learned lessons about that element that carried through the ages. Now we just have to tell someone to not do that."
"We get it, fire bad. Fire hurt. Again, what's yer point colt?" Granny had taken over again.
"I'm getting to it." He sighed. "I wanted them to learn the lesson that screwing with me was a one way ticket to a very bad time. Not just for them, but for every single egocentric asshat who might hear of this." He glared back hotly at the country family, voice rising. "I don't want to spend my school years having to spank a bunch of fools who have nothing better to do then be a jerk to some orphan just trying to get a passing grade. I'm a fuckin' fourteen year old colt trying to make it through the world and I don't need that bullshit everytime I turn the fuck around!"
It was at that moment he realized he was cursing and shouting. At the same time. In what could be considered a godly household. Without the god. Okay maybe the god.
To say he now had their attention was an understatement. Pear's eyebrows had shot to her scalp. Granny had a thoughtful frown on her face nodding to herself and looking at him with a cocked head.
Bright Mac's face had taken on a solemn expression. Out of all of them, Orion suspected he actually understood where he was coming from, and his daughter was digging a hoof into the floor looking very much like she wanted to become a part of the rug there.
He stared into his hands, head hung low and went on in a quieter tone.
"I'm sorry. I just deal with so much nonsense with judgemental jerkwads who can't see past their own noses. To even bother to understand where another person might be coming from. And the worst part is I can't even blame them."
"What do ya mean, Orion?" Pear once again had taken the initiative. Concern in her eyes.
"It's like..mmm…" He had no idea how to explain. "...it's like you have this tree in your yard, right? And you need to cut it down because it's choking the life out of the plants around it. So you do it. Turns out, your neighbor just lost the benefit of its shade. You didn't do it out of trying to inconvenience them, only out of seeing to your own needs, but they end up suffering anyways. Even if it was your right, they now have to struggle to shelter themselves in another way."
"In the same way, those noble ponies are not hateful little shits out of malicious design. But out of generational apathy and indifference that had begun somewhere in their bloodlines. They do things without really thinking of the little guy." He frowned. "And I'm just as much of a hypocrite. Instead of trying to help them see what they were doing was wrong, I just beat the holy hell out of them. I made them piss themselves in terror. All they will see from me now is a guy to be feared."
He had no idea where this had come from, but as he talked, he realized this had been simmering in him for a long time. Being around these people just felt, comfortable. Like he could really tell them what he was feeling and wouldn't be judged for it.
He hadn't felt like this in over twenty, no, thirty years now. Not since the last time he had stayed with his grandparents. Just before he mired himself in drugs and partying.
Looking at them, he was struck with a profound sense of loss and pain he had not allowed himself to feel since the trial. He blinked tears away.
"If I start crying, I'm gonna kick my own ass."
It seemed he had been lying to himself. He did miss having a family. Having people he could rely on.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring tears into this."
"Nuthin' to be sorry about, foal." The old mare said, grabbing hold of his knee. "A pony no matter the age or what's in their pants deserves a good cry every now and then. Even a tough-as-nails Jane Filly like you." She chuckled, which he did as well.
Then she thumped him real hard on the head. Like, really hard.
"Ow! The hell lady!?" She smacked him again, and he recoiled out of his seat.
"Now I can have sympathy fer ya because yer a foal and ya have it rough. Wut I won't tolerate is ya swearin' in muh house!" Standing to her full height, she glared at him. Glared up at him. She was really tiny for an earth pony, and he had stood trying to run from the abuse.
"Lady I've been talking like this since I was a kid! I'm not-"
"I don't care if ya was cussing in the womb! Ya won't do it in muh house or on muh property. You hear me?!"
It was clear who ran Sweet Apple Acres, and she ruled with an iron fist.
"Fine! I won't f-," he moderated his tone, "I will refrain from swearing in your house. But the town is fair game." It was best he gave some concessions, without his magic he wasn't sure he could keep this mare from beating him to death. But he would not give this woman an inch more than necessary. He could see himself bending to damn near anything she wanted if he did.
"That's better. Now ya staying fer dinner. Ah ah!" She shushed him before he could object. "Yer staying fer dinner and that's final. Ya can tell us all about this volcano project ya got goin' on with the class that AJ here mentioned."
He gaped at her. He had forgotten that Applejack had mentioned how ridiculous she thought it was that he was allowed to teach the science portion of the class. Now she wanted to hear about it.
"But it's a bit too early yet for dinner. Young stallions like yerself need to burn energy, and don't think them baggy clothes hid what ya got under there." She jabbed him in the stomach. "Just as I thought, yer not like them city ponies. Ya got a fair bit o' muscle under them clothes. Or my name ain't Granny Smith Apple."
He glared at her as he rubbed his stomach. First his head now his stomach, the lady was going to leave him with bruises if she didn't stop.
"AJ! Take him out with ya to start hauling this morning's harvest into the barn. Show him proper now. Both ya git on!" She shooed them out of the living room and a fair bit down the hall before she was satisfied and turned around. Just as the screen door was about to bang shut from their passing he heard, "Bright! We got a use for Hertamer. Break out that…"
Both foals stood on the porch, staring bewilderedly at one another.
"Dare I ask what that was about?" He finally asked.
"That's Granny fer ya. Once she gets that bee in 'er ear it's hard to stop 'er. Come on, 'rion. I'll show ya the baskets."
They walked along quietly, her staring fixedly ahead while he just barely noticed where his own hooves we're going.
In truth he felt drained. Like something had been yanked out of him and all the stuff that had been holding him up had poured out. It just felt so, comfortable. That was the word he kept coming back to. It felt like he was back home in Indiana.
"Hey...uh 'rion?"
"Yeah?" He mumbled absently.
"I jest wanted ta say I'm real sorry fer the way I acted. It wasn't very nice, and I shoulda gotten the whole story before I had made up my mind on ya. I'm really sorry."
"It's...it's fine Applebottom. I didn't really help things by giving that half-assed explanation."
"Watch yer language mister, jest cuz Granny isn't here don't mean you can go back the way ya were." She glared hotly. "Ya gave her ya word!"
He laughed and held up his hands to hold her off as he explained.
"I did make a promise, that your granny had yanked out of me, but I specifically said in her house. Are we in her house?"
"No, but-"
"First rule of making a deal, always be very careful about the wording in any agreement. I gave my word and I won't swear inside your family home. But I'll say whatever the fuck I like outside of it." He grinned at her and she just stared back sullenly.
"Fine." She grumped.
Granny Smith had been in the kitchen for almost twenty minutes. He could hear butter frying. Then more butter frying.
"The hell she making?"
The rest of the Apple Clan sat around in their seats rather quietly. Faces looking a little pale. Big Mac looked a little green in fact.
After hauling in what he could only assume was a literal semi trailer of apple baskets, and rinsing off by a hand pump of most of the sweat that had accumulated the pair had come back at the call of dinner, only to now sit around as quiet as mice in the walls.
"Um, Mr. Apple? What's going on?" Might as well get to the bottom of things, they were all clearly uncomfortable about something.
"I ah...that is...umm…"
Orion frowned. What was going on with them? Standing up he wandered into the kitchen, might as well see what he could help with.
At the stove, an archaic looking thing that used wood as a cooking implement, stood Granny Smith. But she wasn't moving.
"Hey Granny, everything alright in here?" He asked and was treated to the old mare squawking like one of them hens in the yard, dancing about in place.
He really tried not to laugh. Okay he didn't.
"How dare ya sneak up on me!" She hollered and thumped him on the head with a spoon. Forget bruises, he was going to suffer memory loss.
"I didn't sneak up on anything, what's taking so long? Anything I can help with?" Her expression was one of both grief, and the same pale look the rest of her kin had. "What's wrong?"
"I...I am sorry Orion, I really am, but I can't bring myself ta do it."
"Do what?" He asked quizzically.
"I...I.." she looked behind her, not at the stove, but at the countertop next to the stove.
Peering around her, his eyes widened marginally. On the counter in a blue plate, were two thickly cut pieces of meat, in a pool of blood.
"Granny, what is this?" He asked very quietly. Hertamer had been a name he realized.
"Well, we...well more like I..well I thought since one of our pigs had passed late this morn, and ya being what ya are, we could get more than fertilizer outta the ol' feller." He held up his hand and she stopped babbling.
"So that's what's going on. They're trying to feed me what I need to eat." It was touching.
One of their hogs had died on a most opportune day, and they decided, upon hearing his story and the weird thing that he was, to butcher the animal for him.
He sighed heavily.
"Granny, do you and your family know how to properly process meat? How to prepare the animal for butchering?" She winced at the word, but shook her head no. "I'm afraid Mr. Hertamer is going to become fertilizer without ever reaching a higher purpose. I cannot eat this without it being properly prepared. There's a method that goes into this, and you need to know what you are doing in order for your intended recipient not to get sick eating it."
"Oh," was all she said.
"Yeah." He said quietly. "I appreciate it though. Thank you for thinking of my needs, but I can go a month without meat." He smiled. "Besides there is always fish. That's easy to prepare and cook."
"I see, well…"
Before she could continue he picked up the plate and carefully took it outside to dump the contents with the rest of the animal off in the compost heap that had been fenced off some distance away. It was downwind, in a ditch, south from the home. At least they knew where to do the butchering.
Looking up he could see the sky wasn’t just darkening from the sun descending. From the south, above the Everfree, black clouds roiled and had already pushed into the general area.
“Better eat and go as soon as I can. That looks like a terrible time.”
Coming back inside he noted that she had barely moved as he walked over to rinse the plate out and put it in the sink.
"Again, I thank you. But I can slum it with you herbivores for a while. I'd be more worried about my fridge when I get back to Canterlot. I might need a refill on essential goods." He chuckled to himself. He was so gonna gorge himself when he got home. "Come on Granny, everyone is waiting on you."
Dinner was nice, the conversation was warm and friendly. Lifting a fork-full of squash to his lips, a hollow boom sounded, and with dread he realized there was a good chance of having to march back in the rain. Something was off about the thunder though, another sound beneath the rumble. What that might be he could not place.
Applejack had been largely quiet since he returned with the old mare from the kitchen.
"Sweetheart? What's wrong? Yer usually far more talkative than this, wut got ya down, hun?" Her mother said suddenly.
All eyes fell on the normally outgoing filly, who seemed to have drawn in on herself as she pushed the few pieces of pie around, that had been her dessert, with a fork.
Orion watched over the rim of his mug, the cider had been particularly good and this was his fourth. He was going to piss an ocean when he got back to the barracks, but it was delicious so it was totally worth it.
"Ma...I…." She closed her mouth and frowned, and shook her head as if arguing with herself. That fixed expression of self loathing was not one he ever expected to see on her. Even her parents looked worried, and the brother was not too far behind them. Though that sleepy look in his eyes made him look more tired than concerned.
"Well? Out with it foal. We ain't got all night and Orion has to get back to town soon enough as it is." Granny had absolutely no sympathy for the obvious turmoil broiling in her granddaughter. The old mare just wanted it done with.
No, she had a twinkle in her eye. She knew something was up. But what?
He wouldn't have to wait long as Applejack shook her head once more and fixed a determined mask onto her face.
"'rion, I want ta apologize. I judged ya harshly when I knew nuthin' at all. I can't ask ya to forgive me, cause I was wrong. But I still want ta say I'm awful sorry about whippin' them foals into a lather like that."
He waited, there was more judging by the way her lips practically writhed like two worms. He just raised an eyebrow and set his now empty mug down. But why was she doing it again? He had forgiven her outside already, what more was there?
"I….I have a 'abit of judging books, and them sorts, by their cover." His other eyebrow rose and she blushed furiously. "In this case I mighta judged ya by somepony else's description."
"To be fair, I did dime myself out there." He smiled lightly. "So I have some blame in that as well...in my defense I can only say that I was trying to keep things simple and direct. Next time I will add more context, but why apologize again if I may ask?"
"Cause my family didn't hear it." He nodded. Wanting them to know that she had done so made sense.
But his response was about as much an apology as she was going to get out of him, and he hadn't truly done anything wrong. He should have given greater detail when he had been asked by the kids in her school. He just didn't know how to go about explaining the incident without making it worse than it already was.
"Well now ya both have apologized," he didn't argue with the old mare, "and that is the end of that. Now finish yer pie filly. Ya got a colt ta walk home."
He liked the old-timer. He really did. But she was a staunch believer in the old ways, as Mrs. Branch was, where mares and fillies held the door for stallions and colts. That behavior was less prevalent in the major cities, and places where Equestrian rule was more of a suggestion, so he had been blessed to have only put up with mild versions of it there.
However, during his little tour of the town, he had been subjected to door holding and way too many smiles. Particularly oily smiles. It was uncomfortable to say the least, made worse because he had been raised to do the same for women in his world. It had already led to several awkward moments before he came to the quiet little village.
"I don't need an escort. It took like a half hour to get out here. I'm pretty positive I can run that in half that time, and I do need the exercise." Which was true. Hell, if he pushed himself he could get it down to ten minutes or close too. Applejack had dragged her hooves for most of that trip.
"Now that is nonsense." Pear had come back in from the kitchen after collecting the dessert plates, fists on hips, a grim look upon her face. "There are beasties that occasionally roam out from the forest, ain't no place for a colt ta be left alone by himself."
"Just give me a big stick." He joked, but he noticed both stallions giving him odd and alarmed looks.
"Orion, ya don't need ta go through all that. I'm done I can walk ya home no problem." Applejack pushed back against her seat and stood up.
That was it. He was tired of the reverse chauvinism. Time for a culture shock.
"And I said no, and I mean NO." He kept his voice level, but oh how he wanted to shout at them again. "Now I do appreciate your concern, but I can and will outrun your...butt... just to prove a point." For whatever reason, he had hesitated on what he was originally going to say. Out of the corner of his eye, Granny just nodded in satisfaction, which only made him want to curse just to prove he could, and would.
Other matters first, he would let her have her win.
"That doesn't mean I don't appreciate your concern. I do. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I will not be waited on hand and hoof because of what I have dangling between my legs. I will fight you all on this." A snort came from Big Mac. "That includes you Diesel. There's a frying pan in the kitchen that has your name on it if you think otherwise." That got several eye bulges of alarm, even the sleepy giant of a stallion gave a start.
Those green eyes showed a surprising amount of fear. Maybe he had gone to far with the threat?
"Now you see here-" began Granny once more.
"No. You see here," he mocked back, "I don't need someone holding my hand. I won't budge on this, because she doesn't need to be out there either. If there is some type of danger, its one life or two. I choose only one life, and that is the worst case scenario. If something happens I can just jump into a tree. I can wait 'em out or in the morning when the guard comes looking for me they can be dealt with then. Because we all know they will come lookin’ if my…rear doesn’t show up." He flicked the nullring on his horn for emphasis.
It seemed he had managed to cow most of the clan into compliance. Applejack having been as quiet as a mouse in an alley full of cats, had drifted behind her brother.
The only one not yielding any ground was the matriarch of the family. She had stood up and come around the table to stand nose to nose with him. Well try to at least, he towered over her and he continued on she had begun to realize it and had backed up.
High pitched barks sounded out from behind the house, urgent in their frequency.
"What, is that?" He asked. If that was their scarry timberwolves he was going to laugh.
"Winona! She's real scared!" The farm filly said in a harsh whisper. Indeed, the entire family had gone deathly quiet. "Pa is she in her kennel?!" It sounded like all the air had been squeezed out of her.
"Eyup. Put 'er in just before we all sat down fer dinner. Don't you worry none, nothing getting in that corral." He said in a whisper barely audible. But it was enough for the filly to breath a little easier.
"Worry about the pup some other time, we gots ta secure the house. Quench the lights. Board up the doors and windows. Move ponies!" Granny hissed out. The rest leapt to obey silently.
Pear headed upstairs, why was beyond him, maybe there were open windows up there as well. Bright Mac and his two foals quickly began shutting up windows and doors on the ground floor.
On his walk up to the home he had noticed the shutters outside the house, painted a brilliant shade of red. What he hadn't seen when coming inside, mostly due to the original purpose of his visit, were panels on rails hidden behind the curtains.
All made of heavy wood, they were latched down after being rolled into place from where they had been so cunningly hidden.
Orion followed the old mare to one of the already closed windows, and as she unlatched to peer out, he looked over her shoulder to look out through the narrow view afforded them.
In the failing afternoon light, it wasn't quite dark but getting there, sat a large shed with a square fenced off portion connected to it. Inside was a dog, more of a puppy really, running back and forth ears laid back and brown-white hackles raised.
He tried to see more, but Granny refused to open the indoor shutter further.
Suddenly she, Winona, stopped running and backed as far against the wall of the shed as she could. Tail curled between her legs.
Not even seconds passed before a large creature stalked into view. It looked to be far larger than himself, decked out for all the world like some mad scientist's little creation of wolf and plant.
When he had seen the pictures in science class, he had thought it a great joke. A Timberwolf. It looked ridiculous and ungainly.
Seeing it now, he could see why the family was worried. Gnarled limbs moved with the grace of a predator in its prime, each ending in paws that had large claws uncovered by foliage. Green eyes flashed in what he thought was a bioluminescent glow as the mouth gaped wide, exposing a row of sizeable teeth that were twisted, all pointing in the same direction. If haphazardly.
It howled. Or at least he thought it was a howl. It sounded like tree trunks snapping under giant pillows. That was chilling.
"An Alpha?!" Whispered Bright Mac.
"No, but he's close. A biggun fer sure." Granny was equally as quiet as they all watched the creature stalk toward the fenced off shed. A rather masculine whimper stirred behind them, but none looked back. Unable to take their eyes from the scene.
"That fence...that is most certainly not gonna stop that fuckin' thing."
The chicken wire had been doubled, but it was clear that the wooden beast was on a mission. Either it was going to clear the fence in a jump, or force its way through. Either way, that pup was dead.
"Winona…" Whimpered Applejack next to him. Somehow she had managed to latch onto him. Tears were pouring freely from her eyes that tore at his own heart. Yet she did not look away.
"Can't you guys, like, band together. Kill the damn thing?" That suggestion got mortified looks. He shrank back from those stares and as he slipped back away from the window, they had returned their eyes to what was about to go down outside.
The farm filly was now hugging her brother. Both quietly crying.
"You could do it." He mentally slapped the thought away. Judging by the size of that beast he would be insane to attempt it, restrained as he was. There had to be another way than trying to go toe to toe with the thing.
"Maybe a different vantage point."
Moving quickly, he left the living room and headed upstairs as quietly as possible. Sneaking up the stairs where Pear had originally gone, he winced as the stair boards squeaked under his weight.
At the top, he could just see the motherly mare shutting a rather thick looking door
"What are you doing up here?" She whispered vexedly.
"Your daughter's dog is in major trouble." He spoke, keeping his tone as low as hers. "I'm trying to get a better look, maybe I can do something." He moved to the end of the hall to peer out if another shuttered window.
Below, the Timberwolf slammed itself against the wire fencing and it buckled inward. It wouldn't be long now.
"That is most certainly not good."
A hand fell on his shoulder. "Youngin' I know ya mean well and all, but there ain't nothin' you can do. Come back down stairs.
"Take the nullring off." Why hadn't he thought of it before. She jerked back in surprise.
"What? No! Why would I go and do that, yer supposed to be under a punishment of sorts. Why?"
"And if it's not satisfied with the dog?"
Pear's eyes widen, but she said nothing, as the both watched on as the denizen of the forest slammed its bulk against the thin barricade again.
"Make a decision, and make it fast Mrs. Apple." A flash caused the mare to jump in place, thunder boomed over head.
The sound of rain drumming on the roof started slow, but picked up in intensity quickly.
"Well, that sucks." Orion muttered, once more peeking into the gloom as the failing sunlight was swallowed up in a haze of falling water and stormy clouds.
Author's Note
ITS STILL SUNDAY FOR ME! THIS COUNTS!
Good Evening everyone.
This chapter is a bit smaller, but had some things I had to rework a couple dozen times. Which is why it was late getting to my editor. Then my final examination (which I am positive I missed something I'm sure one of you will see) took even longer.
But I dudits!
Thanks for reading, peace!
Heartland
She had been so proud when her son had built that fence around the family shed. It was his first big project as a colt.
The leftover chicken wire for their chicken coop was just enough to cover the small section of land around the even smaller building. The equipment shed had been the last thing her husband, Cider, had built before his passing.
It had been originally and still was, for the most part meant for evening repairs of tools. The idea had been at the close of a day’s work. Last-minute repairs could be made on tools or equipment that may have worn or broken down, all while waiting for the dinner bell to chime. But with the addition of Winona, it had also been converted into a puppy rearing shed.
Now its only defense was being beaten down like butter in a churn.
Applejack's whimpers broke her heart. Her granddaughter had been so excited when they had received Winona from the Burrows.
That excitement had to turn to pride as the little pup had begun to take to her lessons with remarkable progress.
All that was over now.
There was a loud wet thump and a shout. The timberwolf halted its attack on the fence, cocking its head to the right. Granny was confused. "What by the Tree was that?"
It had only taken a minute for Pear Butter Apple to make the decision to remove the nullring from his horn.
Power flooded into him immediately as he pushed the shutters aside and climbed out onto the roof. And Orion nearly slipped right off instantly.
That should have been his warning.
Instead, he steadied himself, one hand on the side of the house. Gingerly making his way toward the rear, toward danger.
Looking out, he could see the ugly abomination of tree and glowing parts continuing its assault on the shed, viciously ripping at the chicken wire. Something wasn’t quite right about it, but Orion couldn't quite figure out what.
He shook his head, sending a spray of water that was quickly swallowed up by the continued downpour.
"Doesn't matter; get to the edge, snatch the pup, haul ass back inside. No heroics." Looking, he barely saw Winona in the darkness. With evening and the rain, it was difficult to spot the mutt. "Did it have to start raining? Now?"
It was agonizingly slow going. His efforts to not lose his footing, or make a noise, made the task even more difficult, but soon enough, he was standing at the edge of the awning overlooking the backyard toward the forest.
He hoped he was close enough.
"Okay, now to snag the little shit…" Reaching out with his magic, he formed the spell for capesso. What plopped into his hands was not a dog. He tossed the stick aside and reached out further, straining the limits of his range.
A green ball, tufts of grass, a scarf. No bundle of fur ended up in his hands to reward his efforts.
Orion grit his teeth in frustration. This was becoming ridiculous. Each failure made him inch a little close to the very edge, hoping the mere difference of a few centimeters would be enough.
The rain buffeted him, carried by the driving winds of the storm above, making his eyes squint in frustration.
"Come…on…..come on!" He hissed through clenched teeth, trying desperately to push past the restrictions of his second birth. He took another slight step forward, lost his footing completely, and plummeted to the muddy ground below.
Laying there, as rain pelted him in the face, he wondered if he should try and play dead. Act like a branch. A discarded farm implement.
The snarl from behind him said that was a terrible idea.
Leaping to his hooves and spinning around, he didn't remain on them long. He dove to the side as violent vegetation swiftly occupied the space he had been in not seconds ago.
"Fuck me, he's fast!"
Pivoting his right hoof in the mud brought him upright and facing his four-legged foe.
Orion had been right. The Timberwolf was bigger than him. Much bigger. Its hide made of bark, leaves, and corded branches gave it the look of exposed flesh that had been converted to foliage.
A strange green bioluminescent light pulsed in its eyes. Open gaps along its body held the same glow.
The snarl on its face morphed.
"Is this sonvabitch grinning at me?!"
The denizen of the Everfree was, in fact, grinning at the stunned colt. Rough wooden tongue lolling out of its mouth as green saliva dripped to the ground.
Things clicked for Orion at that moment. The creature's size and the way the fence had buckled but never truly gave out should have been a dead giveaway. That had been what struck him as wrong.
The timberwolf had never been trying to get Winona. It had been baiting the occupants of the house out. It knew that someone would want to try and save the dog.
"You bastard…you played me…." That grin seemed to widen for a moment before the snarl returned, and the beast leaped for him.
Had it not been for the rain and mud, that would have been the end of it. With a startled yelp, Orion took a step back and slipped, dropping onto his ass as his death sailed overhead. Crashing into a thicket of rose bushes behind him, the beast howled in frustration.
"No dog is worth this! " Scrambling once again to his hooves, he bolted for the porch. "Climb up the awning, get my ass back inside!"
That plan was dashed before he had even made it to the second step.
The timberwolf bodied him from the right, sending him sprawling into the mud. With no time to agonize over how much that actually hurt, the unicorn struggled to stand again and swung his head toward the one that had collided with him.
There were two.
To his left and a little behind was the first one ripping its way from the roses, snarling and snapping. The second was just in front of him and to his right. He wanted to groan.
"Of fuckin' course they are pack plants…."
Orion wasn't going to be able to run from this. Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled. Nature was mocking him for sure.
"Bright Mac, that ain't gunna hurt no sun blighted timberwolf. Put that away!" Hiss Granny.
Her son had gone into the kitchen and retrieved her biggest knife. Now he was trying to get around the old mare so he could rush out the door. She understood his stance on the situation, and she agreed with him. But the kitchen utensil was little more than a butter knife compared to the tough hides of those wolves.
"But, Ma?! He's gunna die out there!" He made no effort to quiet himself.
"Hush you, foal. Yer gunna draw 'tention ta us."
Granny couldn't understand how their guest had managed to get outside, or remove the nullring that he had on him since his arrival. Not knowing anything was making her angry and short-tempered. She'd have to apologize later.
Turning back to the window, she could see the wolves circling around Orion Falls between the gap of shutters.
Just what had he been thinking?!
Occasionally, one of the beasts would snap at his cannons, driving him back toward the forest and away from the safety of the house.
This was a terrible situation, and all Granny could do was think to keep her own family safe.
"Why are ya out there, ya dumb colt?!"
A creak of wood from behind her jerked her around as well as somepony physically doing so.
Pear Butter stood there looking incredibly guilty. Tears were making tracks down her face.
"What did ya do, Pear?!"
Her daughter-in-law's hand rose and opened. There in her palm was Orion's nullring.
"P-p-pear?! Why?!" Bright asked, disbelief in his eyes.
"He….he said he could 'port Winona into his arms and get back…back inside." The yellow mare weakly replied. "Then…he fell and I…I jest couldn't…I…." Grief ladened her voice, and she struggled to remain standing under Granny’s domineering glare.
"Did ya at least 'member to lock the winder?!" The now silently bawling mare could only nod.
She huffed in annoyance and turned back to the window again.
"At least that covers the "what and why", but how is Orion gonna…."
Granny Smith's mouth fell open.
The fuckers were driving him to the forest.
It was apparent they were planning to make a meal of him. Any idiot could see that. But they were doing so slowly.
"Likely trying to bait more out of the house."
They had passed the dog shed a couple of minutes ago. Winona was nothing more than a ball of trembling fluff in which the timberwolves took no interest in. They had their prize as far as they were concerned.
How was he to get out of this? The couple of attempts he had made to skirt around them was met with nearly a bitten-off leg. He couldn't keep track of them and had no time to activate the radar enchantment in his mane to give him a better idea of where they were at.
He had deactivated all of the jewelry he had made just before the guards had taken him in. The nullring had kept him from reactivating them since. Orion had wanted to avoid any chance of Celestia, or someone else, from possibly detecting anything wrong. He even forcefully misaligned his secondary "horns" as an added precaution.
Those had been the only thing he had fixed before stepping out into the hell he was in now.
He had tried casting a presence spell manually several times, but the wolves were either sentient or had learned from previous interactions with other ponies. Each time he had begun, they lashed out, disrupting his concentration.
Judging by the way they would stop and grin at him, he suspected a little of column A, little of B.
Getting to the forest would not be safe either. Judging by how fast they were, he wouldn't be able to just climb a tree and wait them out till morning.
"I'm truly fucked…."
It was a sobering thought. All he had done, survived, and accomplished, was worth nothing. He was about to be plant food.
"Fuck this!" He suddenly shouted.
That startled both creatures as they suddenly stopped circling, each looking at the other.
Orion didn't waste any time. With the pair distracted, he decided if he couldn't run, he was going to fight.
The myriad of spells he still had no name for, blossomed in full view of anyone who cared to look and understand what they were seeing. The light drove the rogue plants back, turning their heads in order to avoid the worst of the suddenly searing blaze of his horn.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR PODLING ASSES!" He roared and threw a fist into the face of the nearest wood wolf.
Punching Forager had been like hitting an anvil with a thick layer of slightly frozen jello around it.
Striking one of these things was like someone had simply removed the jello.
Blood, his, splattered on the ground, and he barely resisted the urge to howl with the beast as it shook its head and stumbled away, stunned. Orion's left hand had split open across the knuckles. Red fell with the rain that still beat them all down.
The timberwolf he had punched now sported a cracked cheek where his fist had connected. However, around the crack, and now covering most of the body, were rows upon rows of rose thorns. Big black gnarled things far twisted from your average rose bush.
"Great! They can fuckin' mutate!"
It must have been the one that had fallen into the bushes. The other wolf did not share its companion's new adornments. It was likely that they could take on the attributes of plant life that they brushed against.
That was terrifying to the black colt. "I hope they haven't run into hemlock on the way here…."
Whatever he had gained from the surprise assault was all he was going to get. Instead of backing off and reevaluating their approach, they leaped as one at him, jaws snapping.
"Fireballs you idiot. You can cast them with your hands, moron! Plants burn!"
The moment the idea popped up into his brain, he started launching them, stopping his opponents in their tracks in bursts of fire. Unfortunately, no vegetation was burned this day. The brilliant idea left out one tiny fundamental problem. It was raining like Noah's flood was coming.
This only seemed to serve to piss the already angry wolves even further.
"Shit."
The chase was on.
Having access to his magic, Orion was able to quickly put distance between himself and his would-be devourers. Setting a course for the house, he took long strides, praying and hoping that whatever god was listening wouldn't let him slip.
With the spells coursing through him, he had more than enough speed and power to skip climbing entirely. All it would take is one leap, and he would be home free.
One of the timberwolves slammed into his back, sending him crashing into the shed they had been faking a break-in with.
"MOTHER FUCKER!" He roared into the night. Throwing one of the broken wood slats at a charging wolf, tripping it up before it could reach him with the twisted teeth of its jaws.
Winona rushed into his arms, trembling.
"NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR PETS!" He screamed and jumped to the roof of the shed, one arm wrapped around the dog, the other snagging an old-looking hand scythe from the ground and simultaneously slashing the other creature in the face. The blade had been kept sharp and cut deep, splattering bioluminescent blood into the air.
The resident of the Everfree roared, a bellow that rattled Orion's own teeth in his head.
"So, they can feel pain."
He nearly fumbled his grip on the struggling, squirming family pet. This was not going to work. He couldn't fight with the ball of fur in one hand and ancient farm equipment that could fall apart at a moment's notice in the other.
"Oh, please don't turn into a pile of steaming blood mush." His horn's light picked up in intensity.
Capesso was designed to pull objects to the caster. A kind of mini teleportation. Orion had figured if that was true, that the inverse was also possible.
Experiments had proven that…with mixed results. One in four items that popped into existence some few feet away were as expected, as they had originally been. The failures, however, had been twisted versions of themselves.
It was a gamble. The results he wouldn't see till after the fact, but he saw no choice given his, their, current situation.
Dashing off the top of the shed, he bolted for the house. The wolves moved to intercept and collided with one another when he suddenly pulled up short. The colt didn't need to be that close, just fifteen feet from what he thought was open space within the home.
"Please don't haunt me if this doesn't work." With a pop and a sizzle, the puppy vanished from his arms. His horn throbbed with the effort of supporting and working so many spells all at the same time.
He hoped that it worked, but concerns for Winona's fate were pushed aside for the sake of his own. The wooden abominations had disentangled themselves relatively quickly and were now resuming their original positions at the start.
Once again, they began their mock attacks and circled to push him back.
"Naw, I'm done with this cat and mouse bullshit!" He was going to kill at least one of these fuckers. The questions were how and which one.
Dodging a series of feints and attacks. Orion thought about how he was going to go about it.
The rose-thorned one was an obvious no-go. Most of his attacks would be physical, especially with the downpour that was still coming down. Lightning flickered above them occasionally, accompanied by the rumble of thunder.
"With this fucking rain, I'm never going to be able to...wait. If I can't fry them from the outside, maybe I can cook them from within instead. Shit, no! I can get through their skin…." He hefted the hand scythe in his hand. "Yeah….that'll work."
The one he had slashed had been the non-thorny wolf. Its face now bore a deep cut across its left eye, oozing bioluminescent liquid that he had to take as blood. Maybe it was actually tree sap. But how did it glow like that?
Orion shook his head. He was distracting himself, and if that kept up, it was going to get him killed. Instead, he focused on how to lure the cut one in for some real damage.
He waited, trying to show a little of his exhaustion. It was bound to take the bait eventually. With a yelp of alarm, Orion stuck his hoof into a hole in the yard and fell backward. Panic filled him as with a sickening realization, he was exposed openly to attack in a position no one would want to be in.
The thorny one jumped on top of him, and he only barely had time to shove his arm into its neck to keep the snapping jaws from his face, the creature's thorns digging into his forearm. The scythe had been knocked from his hand.
Placing his other hand against the struggling wolf's chest, he ignited a candlelight spell as high as it could go. He screamed in rage, pain, and fear as the magic began to burn a hole in the chest of his foe.
The snarling above turned to shrieks of pain, but the bastard did not stop trying to chew his face, and Orion didn't stop trying to force flames into the not-animal bearing down on him.
Even when the char from the expanding wound started burning his own hand, he kept up his feeble attack, eyes rolling in search of the other timberwolf.
"Where's the other one?!" Some still rational part of his mind screamed that question. Why hadn't it pounced him too?
"That….sh…should be enough!" He hoped it was. This was his only chance.
Ceasing his cast, he balled his fist and punched the spot he had been trying in vain to burn through. The sound of a crack echoed in the small space between them. His hand throbbed.
Orion grinned.
Another short punch, more sounds of wood splintering met his ears. His punching became relentless and in quick bursts. The timberwolf howled in pain as green glowing goop began to plop onto his chest in wet splats.
With a final thrust, he drove his hand and arm straight into the beast's chest cavity. Opening his fist, his palm brushed against something that pulsed wildly, and he closed his fingers around it and yanked in an attempt to make room for the fireball spell he was about to unleash inside.
For the tree of four-legged violence, that must have really hurt. It practically hurled itself off the colt, bellowing into the rainy night.
Looking at what he had claimed, his stomach turned.
A pulsing, not quite a crystal, not quite the pupae of an oversized bug, sea green lump of flesh sat in his palm. Strange twisted roots like veins embedded themselves in various places throughout the fleshy mass.
"It kinda looks like a…did I just rip out this thing's heart?!" Looking up, he saw a pitiful sight.
The timberwolf was no longer the intimidating creature of death he had been fighting only a moment ago. Now, it dragged itself across the ground, its greenish blood oozing from its eyes, ears, and even the mouth. Not to mention from the hole he had made trying to kill it.
Its wails of pain and agony were now pitiful whines.
A quick glance right found the other one, its single eye wide in what Orion could only imagine was shock.
Looking back to the thing in his hand, he crushed it savagely while igniting another candlelight spell. A blackish blue, green flame erupted from his clenched fingers, causing him to curse and drop the burning mass of wood flesh. In the smoke and that impossible flame, something arose and wailed. It was a tiny, pitiful sound, and then it all vanished. Plant heart and all.
The clatter of wood made him jump and look left again.
The once mighty timberwolf was not just a pile of wood and green sap. The sap no longer glowed.
"Holy shit…I…actually killed it…." Getting to his hooves, he rounded on the other, who had yet to move. It just stared at what was left of its companion.
"So that's how I kill you fucks." His throat hurt, but it was loud enough to get his second opponent's attention instantly. "How about it fuckstick, care to try your luck?"
Its ruined eye oozed; the other, Orion could swear that he could see it was contemplating the odds. With a howl of rage, it bolted for the forest, soon becoming lost to sight in the foliage and darkness.
All strength fled him as he dropped on his ass, sudden and manic laughter filling the air. He did not stop, even when Granny Smith's hand shook his shoulder.
He was going to get PTSD from this for sure.
Turning the tab on the spigot, she poured herself a small glass of apple brandy.
Bright Mac had to lug it out of the cellar for her just before he went to bed with the rest. Orion was now sleeping quietly in the guest bedroom across from her own. Poor colt was just plum tuckered out.
His wounds had been dressed after a good scrubbing in the tub. The burns on his hand needed ointment and careful wrapping, but it should be alright by morning. The rest were mostly surface cuts, and one bite mark was barely more than a scratch in terms of severity, yet he somehow complained like a foal getting a shot every time they applied more stingweed powder.
His clothes were ruined, so she had Big Mac dig through his castaways to find something that would fit. She had been correct, he certainly has more muscle than your average city stallion.
AJ had tried in vain to stay awake, but Granny had seen through the adrenaline rush and sent her to bed with little Winona. The pup's sudden appearance in the air before her granddaughter had been a sight to see just before the battle's sudden end.
She turned the cup in her hands. She was avoiding it. Hiding from the fact that a colt, at this point she considered him more of a stallion, capable of the same violence as her grandsire once had, was now sleeping beneath her roof.
Her ears perked up, somepony was coming down the stairs.
Moments later, Pear walked in, thick red flannel bed robes wrapped around her tightly. It was a chilly night with the rain and all. Try as they might, they could not plug every draft in this old farmhouse.
"Now wut do ya think yer doing, filly? Why ain't ya in bed like the others?" She asked pointedly. The foolish mare was messing with her alone time now.
"Couldn't sleep, Granny. Thought I'd sneak a tot ta see if that'll work." She came to sit before her, after getting a small cup of her own. The cask stood between them, and she gave a questioning look as if asking for permission.
"Fine, can't say as I blames ya. Night like tonight…well, maybe I oughta not partake alone." She sighed heavily.
After Pear had filled her cup, they sat staring into them for a long moment. The old mare was still a might bit miffed at the younger. She had acted foolishly, in her opinion. Taking off that nullring like she did had just been plum stupid.
"I…I thought all he was gonna do was teleport the pup. That's what he said he'd do. Kept cusin' up a storm though, inching further and further out like that." She explained, though no question had been asked.
Granny snorted derisively.
From what the two had said, both Pear and Orion, he had convinced her to slip the nullring off his horn so that he might use a spell known as "Capesso" to whisk the poor farm pup away from danger.
However, for reasons she couldn’t understand, he had begun inching closer and closer toward the edge of the awning of the back porch. Complaining how he wasn't close enough or some such nonsense.
Granny would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. Because as he crept farther and farther along, he ended up slipping on some loose tile that Bright had not gotten to securing, and plummeted to the ground near the shed and timberwolf.
Rather than try to run, which she demanded to know why that had not been an option for him. He had stated:
"At that point, I was kinda pot committed. Had to play the cards as they were dealt, ya know? Besides, I did try and get back to the house at one point."
She had seen it all from her vantage in the kitchen, and while he had made an effort to avoid injury and danger, he had still placed himself in harm's way to begin with. That had been a conscious choice.
Orion's answers, more like excuses, did not sate her. The old mare slammed the ring back on his head much harder than she had meant. He groaned, but otherwise didn't protest.
He was supposed to be wearing it at all times anyway. So now Granny had to go into town in the morn and hope that the local Magistrate wouldn't attempt to make a pig pen mess out of the breaking of the Princess's edict. Though she had some sway in that regard.
"Wat's done is done. No use in crying over the basket being spilled. Just pick up the apples and sort what still can be good out of the pile." She muttered, finally taking a sip of the brandy. She hummed in approval. This had been the best yet.
"This…is really good..." muttered Pear.
"I'd hope so, Cider's last batch. Got two more, and that's it." She murmured.
"Wait, this is…?"
."Yep, muh husband's greatest, and last distillation. This is what a 'undred years of practice gits ya." She chuckled. "Oh Cider, 'ow I would trade all the brandy ya ever did make for yer comfert right now."
Pear coughed.
"Not ta change the subject, but wat are we gonna do 'bout Orion?" She asked after a moment.
"We?" Granny cocked an eyebrow. " "We" nothing, young lady. Y'all are gonna stay 'ere and clean up the mess. Tryin' fix that durn fence and shed. Make it better. I'm gonna head inta town tomar'ah and explain to the Guard why he wasn't back in his cot tanight."
"...and wat he said?"
Her cup had paused halfway to her mouth, she remembered.
"Granny, this wasn't just happenstance." Orion had paused at the base of the stairs, one hoof on the first step. His face was tired and worn, but there was still alertness in his eyes. A similar fire there that she had seen blossom from his hand.
"Wat'cha mean?" It had taken an hour just to get him to agree to go to bed. He had been standing by the windows, occasionally peeking out to the forest behind them. Concern etching his features.
"I mean that this wasn't just a random walk by of animals attracted by the smell of rot and decay coming from the compost heap. That f…that wolf could have easily ripped through the wire." He looked back toward the windows again. "All it was doing was using its body like a battering ram. That's it. Why didn't it bite and tear at the fence?"
"Are ya sayin'..." She had begun to piece together what he had been implying.
"Yeah, it was bait. Only one showing itself. The next coming out of the shadows to attack me from behind. Might have been more watching from the woods too, though that might be unlikely." He sighed and raked a hand through his mane. "I read about them, and all records say they are just a bunch of dumb animal-plant hybrids. But that…that right there was a planned attack. Be careful from now on, Granny. This isn't over." And with that, he made his journey up to the guest room.
She hadn't realized that she had moved to the window till she was peering out into the darkness, towards the woods. The same window that he had stood at not a few hours prior.
"I'm gonna inform the guard is what I'm fixing to do."
"I'm sorry, Darling, but are you sure?"
Rarity had a delightful morning. She hadn't gone to bed too late the night before, the patter of raindrops easing her into dreamland in a most wonderful way. The outfit she had chosen today went swimmingly with her natural colors, and the new manestyle she had decided to try had really given her a posh look that she enjoyed greatly. Even her project was going well, if a little more than she had anticipated. Still, the ends would most certainly justify the means.
Her tea had been particularly good as well, mint with blueberries, which had been paired with several fruit tarts she had made the night before. She might have been a bit glutinous, but she felt she deserved a little reward for all her hard work. And her walk to school had been graced by the Princess's sun and clear skies. Despite the autumn season, the weather was blessedly warm.
Yes, today had a glorious start indeed.
That's why the scene that greeted her on the journey to the Ponyville Schoolhouse had been not quite jarring or wrong, just bizarre.
There was Applejack, strolling up the road from the farming district, with Orion Falls of all ponies, as a companion. Just yesterday, the farm filly had been vowing to ruin his visit here for the entire month of his suspension from Canterlot, now this strange turn.
Instead of the angry glares she would have expected, her friend since foalhood was laughing and TOUCHING him in a rather familiar way. That raised the fashionista's eyebrows in surprise.
"What under Celestia's Sun happened? Why is he walking with her? Where did he get that shirt? What is up with all those bandages?!"
She didn't particularly hate the colt. Indeed, he had a roguish charm that she found striking.
But his manner and criminality, confessed from his own lips no less, made him less of an ideal potential partner. She had been on the lookout for her Prince since she was a filly. Having to dismiss him as a potential was regrettable in her book, but a mare had to have her standards. The flannel shirt he now wore hugged a much less soft form that hadn't been there in the horrendous baggy clothing he wore the day before.
It was an earthy look that he pulled off well.
Rarity wanted to know what had happened to cause such a shift in attitude between yesterday and today with her friend. She had left class early the day before, so she had no point of reference for the change. But she did remember that Orion had been rather cross with her dear Applejack just before the final hour.
Though he had just cause in her opinion.
The burgeoning fashionista had chosen to stay out of the whole mess of yesterday, and rightly so. He was already being punished, so the idea of making it worse didn't make sense to her, but her friend had a fly in her ear about it. Her little plan had failed in quick order, though. The black colt had proven far more deft in coercion of the foals in class than even she would have believed, and without threats or bribes.
It was really quite a surprise. The fact that, other than his nails being dragged across the blackboard, there was no outburst seemed to clash with the self-made report on his actions at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. He had been very…controlled.
It wasn't until lunchtime that she had gotten the chance to pose her questions. He was inside preparing for his teaching hour, and she would be remiss if she did not admit her own interest in the subject, if a bit more idle than anything else. Volcanoes were not something the average pony knew much about.
The answers to her questions were vastly different than what she had expected.
"He fought and killed a Timberwolf?! Chased another away?!" That thought rattled around in her skull in a loop that seemed to steal the limelight every time it came back.
Applejack was not prone to lies. In fact, she was terrible at it. Her friend was so bad at it that if she did something wrong, whether intentional or not, the guilt would give her away without anypony needing to know of the why.
This made the orange filly and honest pony by default, and she wore it with a sense of pride.
So it was understandable that the cowfilly looked offended at the question.
"Am I sure? Of course, I'm sure, Rares! Muh kin saw it happen with me!" She had not shouted, but it was a very near thing.
Fortunately, they had taken refuge from the sun under one of the oak trees in the play yard away from the jungle gym, where all the other foals were spending their time.
"I am sorry, my dear, but you must understand my skepticism. The idea of a lone pony, even a guard, taking on an individual Timberwolf is almost impossible without preparation. There is a reason that the Princess's Guard tends to use smother tactics when dealing with hostile forces like them."
It was a well-known fact in town that her father, Hondo Flanks, was a bit of a military fanatic.
In his youth, he had tried repeatedly to join them himself. But he had been rejected every time. Not because of his lack of physical ability, but due to the fact that at the time, a mandate kept a strict limit on how many stallions were allowed to join the armed forces.
By the time it was lifted, her father had already begun his textile business ventures and was beyond the age of recruiting besides.
Now the stallion that raised her lived vicariously through the paraphernalia of old battles. The records, the pieces of gear from ancient sites, and especially the tactics used, were the stallion’s only outlet. Being his only daughter for so long, she bore the brunt of those endless conversations on what worked, what could have been done better, and fantasy acting of great moments in history.
Because of all that, she had taken a liking to it as he did. Rarity was more subdued about it, of course, but tactics of battle always held a special place in her heart. It was why she enjoyed chess so much, or matching wits with anypony she believed was her equal.
"It don't matter wut the guard does. It's wut Orion did, and that is that!" Oh, Applejack was in a stubborn mood, that was for sure.
But last night had been particularly dark with the storm overhead. Surely there was no possible way she had seen what she claimed.
Her friend's face scrunched up in agitation. The fashionista's face must have been obvious in her disbelief.
"Fine then. Ya can come over and ask my ma and pa. Even my brother. They'll all tell ya the same thang I said." She huffed, crossed her arms, and looked away.
Rarity would absolutely love to ask her brother anything. The stallion was nothing short of a hunk. With those muscles and that gentle face, it was enough to make any mare sigh. The problem was he never looked at her twice. Worse, never said more than a few words at a time, even in familial company. A graveyard was noisier than he was.
"I will have to, I suppose." She winced as Applejack seemed to stiffen, and the purple-maned mare sighed once more. She had injured her friend's pride and would have to work hard to smooth things over.
She smiled.
"So, Darling, you said his clothes got ripped up in his battle, and that's why he is wearing your brother's hand-me-downs?"
The cowfilly looked at her for a few minutes, likely trying to figure out where she was going with her questioning, before answering with a shake of her head.
"Yeah. They was so torn up that even you couldn't have fixed it. Why?"
Rarity was impressed. That was almost proper Equish. Only the country twang would have given her away for the rural pony that she was.
But that was not her focus.
"So that means, you know what he looks like under those baggy clothes he seems to favor." Her smile morphed into a grin as her friend blushed and spluttered, trying to explain without impugning on his honor.
Much better.
"AJ, I can't come back to the farm with you." Orion laughed.
School had let out only a few minutes ago. The talk of the kids as they streamed by him and her was an excited babble about his lesson after lunch. Some of them waved their goodbyes to him.
He smiled in spite of himself. Their enthusiasm was infectious. Much better than the kids in his orphanage back home.
His reputation, such as it was, kept those there at a distance. It was only when they were desperate as hell did they attempt to approach him, and they came with bribes in the way of stolen snacks from the kitchen when they did so.
Those moments were fun in their own right, but he couldn't help but feel a little guilty about the fear they had. In part because he did little to quell them.
Still, this was its own joy and no guilt attached. This lot seemed to soak up anything he said like a sponge. It was a shame that he had to tailor the lessons to a lie. Though fortunately, the moon had a lesser effect on tectonic forces, it still galled that he was still contributing to what he believed was one of the great lies Celestia had going on. He would prove it false. There was just no way in hell one person had that much control over something so massive.
At least he was almost positive it was all a lie. How could one being move a celestial body as large as a sun?
He shook his head. No need to go off on a tangent, and judging by AJ's face, he had missed a question.
"Sorry, what did ya say, Applebottom?" The frown deepened.
"I told ya ta call me AJ, 'Rion." She snarked back at him. Since last night she had become friendly, downright chummy. Butchering his name seemed to be par for the course.
"I'll call you MuddButt if I want. Now, what did ya say?" He could only laugh as she glowered at him.
"I asked ya, "Why not?", and ya just stared at all the foals."
"Sorry, I kinda got lost in my own head there. And to answer your question, I have to build two large faux volcanoes tonight, and I'm gonna need to go and buy or find the materials. Besides, I'll just embarrass you by helping you with your chores." She flushed. She had been hoping to get him to help her with her farm work after all.
"What'd mean?"
"As in, I would make you look like a joke doing your job better than you."
"Want ta place sum bits on that?" It was her time to look amused, her eyebrow cocking up slightly, all smug confidence.
"No, as of right now, I'm busy, plus, I'm injured. Now, begone thot! I have shit to do." He nearly ran away as she just spluttered behind him. He ignored the barely heard question of what a thot was and rushed on, giggling to himself.
At the Tee in the road, he noticed the only other older filly in class watching him from down the road toward the farms.
Rarity hadn't been precisely cold, but neither had she been warm either. Always with her head in some fancy magazine or together with AJ, talking about whatever, she hadn't said much to him, which was probably for the best.
Prim was a word to describe her. So it was a small surprise to see her on the farm road rather than heading into town like himself. On top of that, she was looking at him in a rather odd manner. As if puzzled by something.
He groaned.
"AJ, you little shit stain! Of course, you'd go and tell her ass everything!"
The events from last night hadn't been a secret per se, but she looked like a gossip queen. Which meant it was going to be all over town before nightfall.
"Goddamnit."
The damage was done. There was really nothing he could do about it, save murder, and that thought made him uncomfortable to consider. The fact that it had even popped into his head for what was essentially just a teenager was enough to send a chill down his spine. He didn’t even like thinking about it.
Proceeding into town, through the market district which was closest to the farms, he found himself with a rather odd reception.
His first notion that something was wrong was when a mare, with arms the size of his head, slapped him on the back as she passed by. A smile and a nod. No words. With a questioning shrug, he proceeded on till the next oddity cropped up.
A stallion had stepped out of his smithy, wiping his hands off with a rag—another nod, respectful.
"The hell is going on?"
This continued on till he got to the Guard station behind Ponyville Hall. Back smacks and nods of approval. Mares pointing him out to their daughters, who in turn gave him appraising looks.
He didn't like it. Not one bit.
It wasn't till he reached for the door's handle that he put two and two together. Granny came bustling out, and he yanked his hand back. Then he used that same hand to rub his eyes as the realization hit him.
"Well, at least I know where Applejack's snitching behavior came from." He muttered.
"Wat now?" She asked briskly, adjusting an apple-patterned green scarf around her neck.
"You're the reason everyone in town seems to know who the h…" He bit his tongue, "who I am." He finished lamely.
It wasn't that he felt like he couldn't curse. The problem was, unlike Mrs. Evergarden or Miss Sapphire, the old mare in front of him had a forceful way about her. She was willing to leave bruises in order to get her point across with him. With others, he knew how to push; with her, she wouldn't let him push at all, and he had no real defense against her. Not unless he wanted to strike back, which would likely go over as well as a bucket of feces dumped into someone’s bed.
"I felt that everypony should know 'bout how you risked yer neck savin' one of our own." She smiled cheerily. Clearly not seeing what he saw as wrong. Didn't he have enough notoriety as it was?
"It was a dog, and I was stupid." This morning's reflections and nightmares from his fitful sleep had made it clear that he had been dumb as hell in doing what he did. Over a puppy, no less. The only thing he could chalk up his stunt to was the fact that he couldn't stand the tears in their eyes as the realization that Winona wasn't going to make it last the night. And maybe his own ego was at play, who knows.
"That is true too. But Winona ain't just some dog. She is a family member, and so are ya." He blinked in surprise at her.
After last night he had been under the impression that he had thoroughly scared the fuck out of them all, and they wouldn't want such a dangerous person like him around after all that. He had been shocked that they hadn't shied away from his carnivorous needs like others before them.
Perhaps he should have expected something like this as well.
"Even after last night?" He found himself repeating his thoughts out loud.
"As my grandson would say, "Eyup"." She chuckled. "All ya done showed was yer a stallion that's willin' ta stand by yer principles. That ya ken take care of yerself. Ya know wat ya done was foolishness, but ya did it anyways, an for the reasons you thought wer right."
He sighed and rubbed his face. "But did you have to tell everyone in town?"
"Why, of course I did. How else is everypony gonna know ya did right by me and muh kin? Said as much before." She gave him a soft smile. "I ken tell how much ya not likin' the limelight and all that. But folks round here are a touch judgemental. 'nd word was already gettin' 'round about yer problems back in Canterlot. Ponies here needed ta know the otherside a ya." She patted his cheek. "Now I think I've been jawin' enough. Better git on back ta the farm and make sure Bright fixed that fence right and proper. I set Pear to makin' sure he does, but knowin' those two like I do, likely gettin' on ta making foal number four if they git a chance." She chuckled wryly.
"Foal number four? There's only Applejack and Diesel."
"Ah, that's right!! Ya never got ta meet Applebloom." She chortled. "Pear had put her down ta bed just before ya arrived. With everythang that happened last night," she shrugged her shoulders. "No matter, I'm sure ya be around soon enough." She patted his shoulder and meandered around him. "Make sure ta not be a stranger now."
He was floored. "They have another fuckin' kid?!" He shook his head and pushed the door open. He had enough on his plate that he didn't need to worry about mysterious babies sprouting from the ether.
The ass chewing was just that. Sergeant Green was more than a bit pissed at him. Not only had he broken curfew, but he violated Princess Celestia's edicts about the nullring staying on. To the furious stallion, that was the more egregious of the crimes he had committed.
Or, at first, that's what it seemed like.
The moment a particularly tight-faced mare in polished plate armor left the station, he broke into a grin and started laughing at Orion's expression.
"The look on yer face, colt. I swear to the Tree ya looking like both yer hands were caught in the pickle barrel." He wiped tears from his eyes.
"Wait. Hold the fuckin' phone." He held up his hands, dizzy from so many mental blows—First Granny, now this guy.
"Hold the what now?" The stallion asked, perplexed.
"Expression. I thought I was in trouble."
"Hah, only as long as Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong was still around. I'm upset about the whole nullring thang, but I can understand extraordinary circumstances. Still, don't do nothin' like that again, ya hear me?" Green roared with laughter again.
These people were crazy.
"I think I should be in a bit more trouble than, "don't do it again", don't you?" He replied.
"And I think, that ya learned that lesson while gitten all bitten and clawed up like ya did. Now, I do need ya to clarify some thangs with me. Most notably what ya said ta Granny last night." He pulled out a notebook and sat down at his desk, looking expectantly at him.
They were all insane. Either that, or unicorns and earth ponies had an entirely different set of parenting mindsets.
He shook his head, sat down and began to speak of his suspicions about what had happened last night and what it might mean.
The rest of the week flew by despite how awkward it was to walk through town. At any given time of the day, there would be someone with a question that would just make the entire ordeal awkward.
They started out simple enough. Always the same question or near to it, yet before long he would end up defending his situation and why he had done what he had done. It wasn't as if they faulted him for getting involved at all, but they seemed collectively miffed because of how it had come about.
"If ya knew ya couldn't teleport something more than ten or so feet away, why risk somethin' like that? Whut were ya thinkin'?" Had been Honey Rose's pointed question. A variation on the same as Walnut Haze had made three hours before her. He had tried to smack him. That stallion was definitely one of the, "it takes a village," crowd. It was annoying in Orion's view.
He had no answer for them in any case. A growing theme in his life, and he suspected he knew the source, seemed to be stepping in for others. Before his arrival in this world, he had never done dick for anyone in his entire life, and had made one mistake that costed more than he could ever imagine. That guilt had to be what drove him.
Now, the moment he saw someone in trouble, he would just go into action mode. By the time he had realized what he was doing, he had wadded hip deep into the issue and couldn't find a quick way out.
It annoyed him to no end as well, he had been attempting to keep a low profile at this early stage in his life. That was pretty much pointless now as he was in the sights, if not full attention, of the most powerful mare in the kingdom.
With the approach of the end of the week, the bandages were removed, and to his surprise, there weren't even any scars. Just what was in that stuff that slathered onto him? Burned like hell, but even the burn mark on his knuckles had vanished. Leaving behind just a light dusting of fur that would eventually fill in once more.
Friday was fun, even if it didn't turn out like he had hoped it would. It had taken him hours to get the right items to make his fake volcanoes. He had chucked the idea of making half of the one merely because of how time-consuming it would end up being. Besides, the local glass maker, Frit Flame, had raised a stink over what he wanted two of her wide-mouth bottles for. She ended up charging extra for the insult to her pride. He could only imagine what would happen if he asked for one of them to be cut in half lengthwise.
Oh, the humanity. Or was it ponity? Another question for the scholars.
His first thought to use sand was quickly cast aside as well. Ultimately using clay instead so that he could show the class how lava would take alternative paths to get out of the magma chamber by making little holes with sticks during the crafting process was the more straightforward approach.
They got a kick out of it—almost as much as they did when he got hit full in the face with the first example.
Rarity was the only other unicorn in class that he felt capable of making a shield spell. He had to coach her through because he couldn't show her with his horn still locked down with the nullring. The whole point was so that they could build pressure in the chamber and let it all out in spectacular fashion.
Instead, only one-half of the spell had dissipated, resulting in the flood of the red foam to come spewing out right into his astonished face.
Rarity was beside herself with apologies, or so it seemed at first. He had caught more than one smirk on her face when she didn't think he was looking. If it was intentional, he figured it was a damn good prank, and he might have done the same if he could. Still, that was a side of the prim filly he didn't think actually existed.
All in all, the kids had a blast, Mrs. Sunflower was ecstatic, and he had another assignment in mind for next week, learning about refraction. Walking out the door at the end of the day, he realized he was going to have to deal with the glassmaker again. He groaned in annoyance as he waved goodbye to the teacher and headed to the barracks.
He needed to change and then go for a run.
Sweat poured off of him in what felt like a waterfall. The creak of axles turning made him want to kick the whole cart back down the hill in annoyance. He had been listening to it most of the day.
Orion really wanted a shower.
With each step, his legs and hooves reminded him of how bad an idea it was to kick anything at this point.
"That run was a terrible idea. Why the hell did I take this bet?!"
Adjusting his grip on the pair of shafts coming from the cart with difficulty, his arms reacted with all the speed of a slug in jello. He redoubled his efforts for the last ten yards to the barn's entrance. Big Mac had just walked out and was now waiting on him to get the last load in for the evening, a slight smirk on his lips.
"Oh sure, easy for you to just sit back and do jack shit. Let's let the city boy do all the labor. Not like you were born and raised here or anything!" He mentally snarked, far too tired to actually utter what he thought.
Applejack had been no better. As the day had worn on, she had piled more work for him as she pranced off to do whatever she had been assigned.
A thing he had learned early on, she was an absolutely terrible liar. When she tried to set him up for failure, she had been unable to even deflect. Thus, it had been easy to catch her up in it.
But now, she seemed to be genuine when she asked him to do something labor intensive such as carrying in the baskets just after lunch. Those baskets must have been forty or fifty pounds!
There was no lie in her saying it would help them get done sooner. So with much grumbling, he fell to the task with little enthusiasm.
If he still had access to his magic, Orion may have been able to supplement some of the needed strength to relieve some of the workload. He wouldn't have been able to go full bore, as he only had about forty-eight seconds before his stamina gave out on him. Still, a mild boost to strength would have been appreciated.
Instead, he got to watch Big Mac one arm three or four baskets as if they were nothing.
"Just what in the absolute hell are they feeding you?!"
His sister wasn't that far behind, hauling a basket in each arm herself with no signs of strain.
Not to be outdone, he had done the same, which was why his arms were in the sorry state they were now.
"Why in the blue fuck did I take this bet?!"
Finally, and at long last, he had managed to top the low rise and pull the cart to the barn entrance. His legs trembled, but he remained strong. It was supposed to be such a lovely Saturday too. He was going to nap in the park and read. But no, he had been woken up at the ass crack of stupid, just before the first rays of sunlight peeked above the mountains, by a grinning Sergeant Green telling him he had a visitor. The fucker was in on it too, he was sure.
Had he been fully awake, he would have told her to go fuck herself. Instead, she had managed to bruise his ego, and his pride in his body would not let him let it go.
Orion's legs shook again, and he wordlessly threatened them with amputation if they failed him now.
"Why in God's name did I take this bet?!"
The bet had been that he could do the same amount of work that she could. If he lost, he'd have to do what she said for an entire day. If he won, she would have to wait on hand and hoof for him instead for the duration of a single day.
Oh, had he but known what the devious little bitch had planned. How and why did he fall for such an obvious trap? After the rebellion fiasco in school on the first day of teaching, he thought he had her pegged.
He shook his head and glared at Big Mac. The stallion still just stood there watching him with a frown. His thoughts had been running in circles. Had he missed a rarely spoken sentence from Mount Muscle?
“Ya just gonna look at me all day, or we gonna get the damn apples in the barn?” Red raised an eyebrow at him. “No, I don’t give two shits if Granny can hear me. Don’t give me that look, Diesel. It’s been a long fucking day, and I am tired of watching you do all this shit like it's typical fucking Tuesday. Grab some baskets, and let's get this Hercules cursed task done.” He couldn’t be sure, but that snort just might have been laughter. Or he was delirious from overwork.
“Whatever.”
While he, and the largest of the Apples, hauled in the fruity produce, a sudden realization struck him. A terrible one. He was beginning to sound like one of them. The southern drawl he once shed so long ago was returning, if only slightly at the moment.
“Ooohhh no, no no no. I have to get out of this fucking town!” He didn’t whimper, but it was a close thing.
Orion had moved, more like escaped, from Buck Creek long ago. It wasn’t south south, but the people there had always carried the southern twang on their lips, and he had moved to Florida to get away from all that. Somehow he had come full circle. He shook his head as he picked up another basket, no, he hadn’t come full circle. These people were worse in some respects. The accent was so thick he had to listen carefully to be sure he understood some of them. He was just lucky the Apple Family seemed to have modernized their tongue somewhat.
The mental distraction of realizing his linguistic predicament served to help him ignore the burning ache in his body until he was outside in the failing light of the evening sun, and of course, it all came rushing back to him. A twinge in his back made him seize up, and he stumbled to a crouching halt. “Oh god, that hurts….”
“Y’all alright, Orion?” Said a deep baritone.
He would have jumped if his back hadn’t decided to give out on him. Big Mac, had spoken. He felt like the heavens should quake, or at least some choir should be singing. Something.
“Just...wishing I hadn’t fallen for your sister's cattle prod to my ego...” He groaned. Pain had the unfortunate side effect of making him more honest. “Man, for a while, I was thinking you had turned into a freakin’ mute. Heh heh…ow….”
“I find I hear a lot more if I jest listen to others talk. Somethin’ about being quiet helps others, I think.” He grinned wryly at Orion. “Looks like ya hurt ya back. Let me see if I can do something about it.” He walked behind him and started to lift him up.
For his part, he didn’t struggle as the big red stallion picked him up like a toy. He was too shocked by the fact that not only had he spoken, but he sounded less southern than the entire family. Other than a little twang in his voice and speech, he could have fit in Manehattan.
Abruptly, he forgot about the mystery of Big Mac’s conversational capabilities. A sudden pop and a rush of pain made him gasp in surprise. He had not realized he had been twisted like a pretzel till he was being unwound. Getting back to his hooves, he gingerly tested his back and realized there was hardly a hint of what had been. Only the dull ache of a day working the fields remained, and even that was mitigated.
“The hell? Where did ya learn to do that?!” He only got another one of those snort-laughs and a cocky smile. “Alright, keep your secrets.” He chuckled himself.
A ringing went off in the distance near the house on the other hill.
“Oh, dinner time?” Big Mac nodded, looking excited himself. “Back to the silence thing, eh?” A smirk. “Heh, fine. Let’s get going. I’m so hungry I could eat a….” He had to stop himself there.
Saying a horse would make them only think he was talking about a whore. Which is disgusting. He couldn’t say a cow either, as he had recently learned that cows were a sapient species in this world.
Officially known as Bovinians, he could only roll his eyes. They were what you would expect of a cow race. On a level height with the average Earth Pony, the race of people was a mix of the traditional white and black, to the all blacks, and everything in between. The males, the bulls, were large, broad-shouldered, and lazy as hell. The females were known as heifers. They were a bit taller than their male counterparts, and instead of udders at the midsection, they possessed the largest breasts he had ever seen on anyone. Celestia couldn’t compete in the boob department at all.
They all wore overalls of various colors and nothing fucking else. A simple people, really.
Apparently, they were an offshoot of Minotaurs, or the Minotaurs were the offshoot of Bovinians. No one was sure who came first, but each had taken to a different continent some time in the past, and to this day, the two races had very little to do with each other.
Over the millennia and centuries, the Bovinians had figured out that selling their milk, which the heifers made in plenty, was rather lucrative when it came to the pony tribes; to this day, trade still went on. In fact, they lived in small “reservation communities” in the farming lands around the nation. They weren’t big on city life and sought out the more rural towns and villages to become a part of. Sweet Apple Acres being one such, as they had allotted land for themselves. In return, the Apple family made a small profit on the distribution of the milk they received from them. The cows got some of the crop yields each year in payment. They didn’t care too much for bits and jewels, though they kept a small portion just in case.
They were a friendly group too, and despite their near nudity, rather prudish. He couldn’t understand that, considering twice he had caught one of the few bulls just go ham on a heifer’s insides as if his life depended on it out in their fortified section of the fields. That had been an accident, but educational nevertheless.
“...an ass out of a slow-moving Indian.” He finished lamely after far too long of a pause. Big Mac could only stare at him bewilderedly as the pair made the trek back to the farmstead. The sun was now touching the tip of the Bright Fire Mountain range in the west. “Yeah, that one wasn’t a good one, I know….” The bewildered look turned into another rueful smile.
Getting to the porch, he found that he could get up the steps with little more difficulty than that morning. Just dull aches all around his body. Apparently, Dr. Mac was a miracle worker.
Before he could open the door, Applejack popped out with a slam.
“So Big Mac did ya see him drop?!” She asked excitedly. Clearly, she had doubted him. Or at least hoped he would fail.
“Eeeeenope.” He said somberly. Oh, that spluttering made Orion far too happy.
“How?! Ya neva done a days honest work in all yer life!” She exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Ya used yer magik didn’t ya?!”
“Other than earlier this week, I have not had the opportunity. Face it, Applebottom. Your ass belongs to me now.” He said darkly, making the cowfilly take a step back in fear. He had no plans to be cruel. He actually had no idea what to do with her. But he wanted to make it memorable whatever he ended up doing.
“Now, whut did ya say, colt?” Granny’s voice cut through his mirth like a hot knife through butter.
Not to be cowed by the older, much shorter mare, he responded. “I said her ass belongs to me.” He made sure to emphasize the ass portion of his sentence. Orion had gotten tired of censoring himself around the elder pony the last few days, and had finally decided on open defiance. “Go ahead and hit me, I don’t regret it a bit.” He braced himself.
It wouldn’t be the first time he had been struck by the old nag. That had been the night he killed the timberwolves. It wouldn’t be the second, as that had been during Friday afternoon when he had been looking for fish in the local marketplace. He had gotten so pissed off he uttered the word “Goddamnit”, somehow Granny had materialized to thump him on the head with a stick.
It had even happened twice today as well, out in the field. He was certain he would have permanent lumps on the back of his head.
The old mare eyed him sourly. “As muh grandson would say, “Eeeenope”. It is clear ta me, ya jest don’t respond ta pain like a normal pony. Though muh hand be itchin’.” She grumbled. “But if ya stickin’ yer hooves beneath muh table, ya gonna curb that tongue of yers now, colt.”
He was hungry. Really hungry, they had eaten apples during the day to keep energized, but that was no meal for a hungry teen like himself.
“Can we keep it just to the house at least? Otherwise, I’ll never be allowed to set hoof on the property again.” It was a pathetic case, but if Granny held to her standards, there was no hope.
For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse him outright. Then she sighed, longsufferingly.
“Fine, but ya best be on yer best behavior here. Ya understand? No cursin’.” She reaffirmed.
“Absolutely. I will hold my tongue till the barracks tonight.” Giving a scout’s salute.
She huffed. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Besides, yer staying here tonight.” She raised a finger when his mouth opened. “That’s what Collard Green asked a bit ago. Seein’ as how you’nd Big Mac took yer time gettin’ in the rest of the harvest. Though I’m mighty impressed. Ya got done with all of it before Sunday. That’s not bad at all.”
His transfer of nightly boarding forgotten, he asked, “What do you mean, gotten all the harvest done?”
“Why, didn’t AJ and Big Mac tell ya? Y'all done near abouts half a weeks worth of werk in a day.” Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ya didn’t know?”
His head slowly turned at the two now bashful ponies. “No. I did not know that. Was that why I was doing so much?”
“Eeyup!” She gave a throaty laugh. “I swear I didn’t know you city ‘corns knew so much about hard werk. I’m mighty impressed ya kept up as ya did.”
His mind worked furiously. All the carts, all the baskets, the kicks till his knees screamed at him. They had been pushing him. “You little bbbbbaaaaa……” He trailed off under the withering glare of Granny. “I mean to say…YOU SHITHEADS!!” His head rang a little. “Oh, come on, Granny, they used me!” He exclaimed, one hand clasped to the back of the head, the other gesturing erratically. “That's not right, and you know it.”
“I do know it. But I’ll remind you. Again, that I don’t tolerate that language.” She turned from him to the now bashful farm ponies. “Is whut he sayin’ true?”
Big Mac turned his head to the side, sorrow on his face. Sorrow at getting caught, Orion was sure. Applejack fired off quickly, “But I did ask him for help! I did right!”
“But you didn’t tell me any of the particulars.” He shot back. “I thought this was a normal day for you. It’s one thing to ask for help. It's an entirely different thing when you hide what you were trying to do. Hell, I get it. Ya guys wanted a day off tomorrow. It’s clear to me as it is to anyone. But you have to be upfront with anyone ya go and ask.” She was looking well and thoroughly scolded by that point. Then Granny stepped in.
“Orion is right. Y’all knew better’n to go and hide the truth from ‘im. It’s just as bad as lying when ya not being honest. Haven’t I an yer parents taught ya better’n that?”
“Yes, Granny.” They said in unison.
“Now, whut’s this I hear about ya ownin’ Applejack?” The topic had swung so fast that Orion could only blink in an attempt to catch up. He was going to get whiplash from this old mare.
“Oh, that." He said neutrally. "Your granddaughter made a bet that I would collapse before the day was out. If she won, I’d have to do everything she wanted in a day, within reason, of course. Same if I survived. Which I did, by the way.”
"Not gunna make her do anythin' ta shame the Tree, are ya?" She asked in a level tone.
"Naw… Embarrass her? Oh yes. But nothing too arduous." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Granny nodded firmly. "See that ya don't. Now all y'all get your little tails inside. Food is gettin' cold while we out her jabberin'." She shooed them in with a towel he had not noticed she had.
Piling into the dining room, he couldn't help but grin in anticipation. The spread was what one would expect from down country cooking, minus any meat products.
As they sat down, he couldn't help but take in the entire family.
Granny was bustling around the table, making sure everyone had something to drink and a napkin. Applejack was already diving into the salad that had been placed before her.
Big Mac, the mountain of red muscle himself in a very tight flannel shirt, was daintily sipping from a teacup of all things as he eyed what he was first planning to devour.
Bright was already slathering a biscuit with enough butter to drown someone in, and his wife, Pear, was busy trying to get little Applebloom to sit correctly so she could feed her some mashed-up apples and peas. He couldn't blame the baby for the struggle, it sounded like a terrible combination.
As he watched, not yet touching his own plate, he was swept up with a painful desire. A wish he knew would and could not be granted.
As a child, both as a human child and a pony one, he had always made claims of not being bothered by the fact that he had no need for a family. And really didn't care.
His grandparents had been good to him but couldn't really connect with him as anything more than just that. Though Grandpa Joe did a fantastic job teaching him the ins and outs of metalworking and survival. And Grandma Bev was a wiz in the kitchen. She had a penchant for French and Italian cuisine he had picked up by osmosis.
But that's all they were, his grandparents. He had kept things from them. Took advantage of their less sharp instincts in their older age. Yelled and raged when he was caught in whatever bullshit he had been doing that he shouldn't have.
He had barely graduated, and had run the moment the diploma touched his fingertips. Keeping only the bare minimum of contact with them afterwards.
What a shithead he was.
Oh, how he wished he would have done the right thing now. Now, he was again on his own. By choice alone once again. Though this time, he thought the decision was a better one for what he was. Still, the moment he graduated, he knew he would run again.
Maybe that's one of the reasons why he threw himself into conflict with others so readily. He ran. Had always run away from every problem, and took the easy path for himself.
He was, and in his own mind is still, a coward.
"Orion? What's wrong, sugarcube?" Granny’s voice startled him from his reverie. Tears had leaked from his eyes. Had he been crying? Again?!
The others were looking at him too. Concern plastered on their features. However, he wanted to laugh at Applejack's. Her cheeks bulged with food.
"Uh…sh…I just…I just…" He couldn't finish. What could he tell them? What thoughts he had once believed locked away had somehow wormed their way back into his conscious mind. No, no, he would not burden them with that. "I just was reminded of something. That's all."
It would have to do, and Granny didn't press. He was grateful for that respect for his privacy. He dug into his meal, the spinach leaves weren't half bad.
Evening was a welcome time. Their bellies were full to bursting, and their bodies were cleaned of the day's grime and grit. Granny bid her family and their extra addition goodnight.
He was back in the guest room, though she was beginning to think of it as his room.
"That colt…has a lot more on his mind than he shares with others, don't he, Cider?" She fondly fondled the hand-painted image of her late husband. It had been sitting on the wall when she had first walked into Cider's study.
Now it sat on her knee. His green eyes reflected brightly in the candlelight. Having it done in oils had been a good choice, the painter had really caught his best looks.
She took a long sip of apple brandy. Yet another cup she had poured herself. Granny could only chuckle ruefully at herself. She hadn't drank this much over anything since she caught Bright Mac and Pear fooling around behind a hay pile in the west fields. That had been years ago.
Those had been simpler times now that she could reflect upon it.
Watching that foal silently cry, staring at nothing, really shook her. Her family too, the way they had all gotten quiet. He had never presented himself as a simple colt. But tonight reminded her that he was far more than a foul-mouthed pony with a work ethic to match her kin.
"How I wish you was here with us now." Cider Barrel Apple, had been the only pony she knew that could see through the heart of the matter in any situation. It was why she pursued him all those years ago. He was no-nonsense, straightforward forward, and strong. He was everything she was looking for in a partner.
And it looked like their granddaughter; Applejack had that gift of his as well. Still unrefined, and used only when she actually thought about it. But still there. She would be a fine mare when she got older.
Still, she missed her husband, especially at times like these. He might have been able to connect with Orion in some way she could not.
"That colt, is not done causin' trouble. I jest hope he don't do nothin' as foolish as takin' on some wood wolves again."
Her gaze drifted upward toward the windows. Had there been a hint of dull green light somewhere out in the darkness? She shook her head, and went about buttoning up the house, just in case.
Author's Note
Welcome to Chapter 15!
Greetings and salutations, I hope whatever time of day it is that it finds you well. I like how this chapter came out. I enjoyed the interactions the ponies had within. In fact, it felt like this particular entry took a life of it's own for me. Not much in the way of action, but I still think its one of the better ones.
As always, I work by a donation based system. So if you enjoy my work, consider sending me a donation on my Kofi .
And thank you. Thank you for taking this journey with me.
Leave a comment and tell me what ya think, and thanks for Reading.
Peace
Growing Pains
Monday brought something new.
His new lesson on hot air balloons had practically written themselves with all the knowledge of air currents written by the prominent members of the pegasi community. That and his own experience of a few ride-along would easily fill in the one hour a day he had with the class.
Orion was all too happy with this arrangement, which meant he did not need to contend with the glass blower anytime soon.
However, it wasn't the mare with dubious business practices that had caused him to pause on the now familiar path into town.
Rarity stood beneath the boughs of an old oak. The tree casting shade across the walkway she stood on. More importantly, she was standing in his way, eyeing him critically with brilliant blue eyes.
His one and only real interaction, the morning of his arrival in Ponyville, had left him with the feeling that she was more than a bit pretentious. With all that purple and gold jewelry, it was hard not to think otherwise.
She wore the latest fashions, or so he supposed, as he really didn't have an eye for trends. Though her comment that day made him think her's might just be handcrafted.
They certainly seemed sturdier than his own clothing.
The coiffed purple mane and tail in spiral patterns made her look more adult than she actually was. Not to mention her liberal application of purple eye shadow and either lipstick or gloss helped seal the image.
She was a unicorn and as white as he was black. Her horn did not curve slightly as his did, nor was it as long. Instead, it was thicker at the base and spiraled to a rounded point about four or more inches from her head. He'd call that almost petite.
She was shorter than he was as well, shorter than Applejack too. In fact, he suspected that even Twilight was taller than her.
But what really stuck with him, and why he believed her to be one of the upper crust of Ponyville, was her accent. Vastly different to the others all around southern twang most had in town, she sounded like she had come from one of the North Atlantic states.
It was polished and awful. It sounded fake as sin.
As he approached, she stood straighter. "So it's not just happenstance then…." Rarity appeared to want something of him. He wondered if he should just tell her to fuck off. He was looking forward to taking it easy today.
"Mr. Falls." She spoke crisply.
"Yeah, what do ya want?" He snapped. She recoiled, her face scrunching up. "Maybe that was uncalled for."
"I would like, not want," she responded tersely after a few moments, "is to procure your services for a project I have been working on the past few weeks. Dear Applejack has said you were more than capable of manual labor."
Orion just gave her a flat stare. She wanted him…for manual labor. Then a frown creased his features, his eyes darting for the ground.
Usually, a stallion would be the one asking a mare to do something like this. Or a mare would go to another. In this society, he was beginning to painfully learn that ponies had specific roles they wanted to be played by specific genders.
"This isn't something a mare would typically ask a stallion or a colt to do." He finally responded. Then he looked back at her. "So why?"
The white filly, in an even whiter blouse, tapped her lips with a finger in thought. "That is true. Normally I would get Applejack to assist me with this, but she is unfortunately entangled with her chores on her family's farm. She said to ask you." She looked him up and down briefly. "You do have the look of one used to working hard. And judging by what she has claimed, this shouldn't be too far out of your abilities."
He ground his teeth a little. He couldn't be sure, but he thought she had just insulted him.
"And you know no one else that can help you?"
Instead of answering his question, she made a slight humming noise. "You know, you have such an odd manner of speech. "No one, anyone?" It is all so strange. It is good that Mrs. Sunflower is not asking you to teach Equis class."
He gave her an exasperated look and moved to walk around her. She was being annoying, and he had no interest in dealing with her. She moved to block him.
"Ah, you're the kind of colt that gets right to the point, I suppose." She coughed lightly and gave him a pleading look. "To answer your question, no, I have no pony to turn to with this issue. At least, no pony our age. My parents are still in Manehattan, or I'd ask Mother to assist me instead." Sighing, she continued on. "Would you please help me with this?"
He mulled it over for a moment before giving up his own sigh. She was Applejack's best friend, and he would be an idiot to piss her off now by refusing to help the marshmallow pony.
"At least tell me what the hell you're asking before I agree to whatever you have planned." He mumbled.
Seriously, why is there an orphanage in almost every town he visited?
Save for some of the small villages on his way to Canterlot a few years back, most had some type of child's home somewhere amongst them.
He voiced his question as he and she lifted the last of the boxes from the back of the cart.
"You don't know?" She asked in surprise.
"If I did, I wouldn't be asking now, would I?" He huffed back. The damn things were heavy. She gave a sheepish smile and a nod but didn't answer him as they stepped inside the orphanage.
Clothes, to be more specific, foal's clothing, were packed in the wooden cartons. Clean and pressed, they came in a riot of colors and styles that, when paired together, didn't actually hurt the eyes.
True, Rarity had made them all with magic, but the effort she had put in was impressive nevertheless. What was more surprising, is she wasn't charging anyone for it.
She was using the magazine from last week to aid her in making sure she got it right.
From the little he had gathered from her as he lugged the handcart across town, getting weird looks and laughter from the locals, her family was textile merchants. One of the largest in Southern Equestria by all accounts, at least what she has claimed. All the cloth she used to make the colorful wear was either out of fashion or cast-off fabric. She did it because she wanted to, because she felt the underprivileged should have the same as her.
It was rather generous.
His orphanage question had been birthed due to the fact that they were currently carrying the completed garments into a two-story structure, not unlike the school house he now worked in. Though the colors were far more muted.
Ponyville's Home of Orphaned Foals was not a sad place. The kids ran amok in the halls as they passed the two laboring ponies, excitedly babbling to each other as they speculated on what they would wear. Many of them he recognized from class, but most were as yet too young for organized lessons.
He couldn't help but smile as their faces lit up with each new box popped open. He had never done anything like this when he was a human. It was rather nice, and left a warm feeling in his heart.
Maybe he would start a charity when he began to make his millions.
Rarity set the last box on the ground in a field of blue. She had chosen to use her magic, which made him jealous as hell about it. Wiping her brow, she beamed as she watched the little munchkins tear into her gifts.
He had honestly not expected any of this when she had stopped him earlier that day, and it made him reevaluate her. His original assessment had been unfair, he supposed. While she did try too hard to emulate a society, she'd likely find it distasteful in the end. The purple-maned filly was still as warm and kind as all the other Ponyvillians that he had met. More so considering the effort and financial drain she had undertaken.
Even to his untrained eye, that cloth did not look cheap regardless of her declaration of uselessness.
Stepping out into the late evening, the sun just above the horizon of mountains to the west. He asked her again why there were so many orphanages in Equestria.
"Well, I'm afraid the answer is not pleasant." She dabbed her cheeks with a cloth. Her fur was starting to look a little out of sorts. "You may not be aware of this, but the Everfree is not the only danger we ponies face in our day-to-day life."
He nodded along. He had actually never thought about the fact that Ponyville was only one of the many towns that had parked themselves so close to the hazardous woods.
"Over the last twenty or so years Princess Celestia, along with a cadre of merchants and entrepreneurs, have sent out expeditions and even small colonies in the farthest explored reaches of our world." She plucked at her shirt. "Not…every outing is successful." She finished.
That actually made a lot of sense. He had forgotten exactly what age he was in. For humans, it was almost too easy to set up a town or outpost in less than hospitable places. They had all the infrastructure to handle that. For these people, they had none of that. When they went out, they were truly on their own. Survive or die.
That fucking sucked.
"So the offspring of those failed expeditions come back here?" He asked.
Nodding, she replied. "Yes. They arrive here and are then transferred to other locations throughout the kingdom. To give each foal a chance. A chance for a good herd that will love and cherish them."
He was confused for a moment before he realized she didn't mean specifically here, but just in the nation in general. It could have been just as easy for him to arrive in Prance as here now that he was contemplating it.
Just then, Mr. Dollop came out of the back entrance. All beaming smiles on the elderly blonde stallion's face.
"Thank you so much, Miss Belle. I've not seen them so happy in a long time." He turned and gave him a dubious but not altogether hostile look. "I'm surprised to see the troublemaker here."
Dollop Cream, like many, believed he needed a firm hand on his ass to set him straight. In his humble opinion, he shouldn't be running around fighting ponies or timberwolves. He may be right about that.
Word of his escapades in Canterlot had finally leaked out somehow, though the how was a serious question as he had done his best to keep details as vague as possible. It was more than likely that either a newspaper or a visiting relative ruined the efforts.
It had painted a very mixed opinion for a lot of the locals. Though most aired on the side of, "he's good with the Apples, he's good with me," and left it at that.
This stallion did not share in that belief.
"There were no timberwolves to fight, so I figured the dainty lady next to me could use a hand." He snarked. "Got a question for you, though, Hoss. Why is it that you're the only stallion I've seen running an orphanage?"
Rarity had looked at him somewhat quizzically, but he honestly did wonder. As long as he had lived amongst them, he had yet to understand their culture in some areas.
Mr. Dollop had his own look of disbelief. Then he coughed into his hand before he replied.
"I'm surprised you don't know this."
"Yeah, let's just say I didn't really get to grow up around ponies until, like, I was five." That was the truth. He hadn't grown up in this world. He was doing it now, of course, but some things were just hard to absorb.
"I suppose so, considering where you come from." Sympathy did not look as odd on his face as Orion would have thought. "The reason why I'm one of the few to take on this mantle is really quite simple. Stallions tend not to accept other foals into their herds as readily as mares have shown to do. I suppose you could say it is a long-ingrained instinct."
"Oh….OH." That made a lot of sense. They were a lot like lions. When a rival male takes over a pride, he will kill the former male lion's offspring. Thus forcing the females to go into heat so he can have his own bloodline survive.
He wondered if ponies had a similar issue, except maybe not the whole killing bit.
"Yes, exactly. It's a holdover from our more barbaric days of the distant past. Rival stallions without a herd would sometimes take over and kill the offspring." Dollop explained further.
"Well, shit. That's dark as hell." He had no idea what to say. To think ponies could be so vicious is not something he would ever have believed.
"Yes, quite. We have come a long way from our distant ancestors." There was a moment of silence. Rarity hadn't said a damn thing the entire time, but the discomfort on her face told it all. "In any case, I suppose I should thank you as well."
"Ah, don't thank me too much." He was grateful for the topic change. "In all honesty, she and another that was not there strong-armed me into it. I could be napping right now." He chuckled.
"I'm quite sure." The judgemental stallion had returned. "Well, off with you both. I've got an orphanage to run."
They waved goodbye to the kids, and he grabbed the cart to start pulling it back across town. The sun was already dipping into the mountains, he didn't have a lot of time to get back to the barracks.
He looked at the purple-maned pony beside him and opened his mouth to ask what was next, and a sour apple sucker was shoved into his mouth. She gave him such a dazzling smile that he had trouble remembering their rather dark conversation only a few moments ago.
He spat out the sucker. “Fuckin’ overly sweet piece of.…”
Rarity really was pretty, and he imagined if she dialed back on the makeup, she would look more stunning. He had long accepted the fact that one day he would have to kiss, and likely bone a pony, and that acceptance altered his perception of them.
She suddenly latched onto his arm, beaming up at him.
Now it was awkward. His arm being squished between her breast made him blush and nearly drop the handles of the cart he was pulling.
"The hell are you doing?" He exclaimed, trying to shake her off him.
"Don't you think I did not notice, Darling?" He gave her a baffled look. "You enjoyed yourself. I saw the way you smiled at those foals. You were happy to help. I think you got more in common with Mr. Dollop than you think, my Dear."
He gaped at her. "This girl…" He decided not to finish that thought. Instead, he chose to try and throw her off. Maybe get her off his arm.
"Darling? My Dear?" He laughed. "Easy there, killer. Buy me dinner first."
It was her turn to blush though she didn't ease up on her grip. Instead, she just fired right back. "I suppose you're handsome enough. The roguish look matches you well, I think. But those clothes…." She mused thoughtfully. "I can dress you better." Then that wicked smile popped up on her face. "So I suppose a date wouldn't be too off-putting. Can you cook?"
His mouth fell open, and she laughed delightedly.
"I'm teasing you, Darling. Relax, I have not yet decided if you would make a worthy Prince." He did not feel relaxed, and he wished she would let the fuck go.
Getting to her house was no issue, except for the fact that she clung to him the whole way like a tick. Once done putting away the handcart, they walked to the front, and he was reminded how garish her home was.
Three stories in the design of one of those Victorian homes he had seen in pictures on the internet, it was not ugly but definitely overdone. He had daydreamed of owning his own home and had gone through the gothic phase of his teen years, so this would have gotten younger Orion really excited. The color palette was of various purples and dark blues.
His first thought was this was her personal home that her parents had built for her, and she was doing the Japanese thing of living on her own. That turned out not to be the case.
Her dad, Hondo Flanks Belle, seemed to be wrapped around her finger. He had readily agreed to paint it in the colors she had wanted. Her mothers, Cookie Crumble Belle and Sky Tracer had raised no objections either.
Currently, they are out of town. Which made him nervous when she said he would need to strip once they got inside. He turned to leave.
"I am not getting naked for no girl I have known for all of a week." He declared, struggling against a deep blue aura wrapped around his waist. But he was making headway to the door, pulling her along.
"Darling, please stop. I only want to get your measurements! I promise there will be no impropriety to be had tonight!" She was sweating with the effort of trying to stop him from leaving. She had actually held onto the door frame of the living room.
He eyed her suspiciously, "No funny stuff?"
She grunted with exertion. "No funny stuff, I promise now, please, would you come back in and let me measure you."
Orion stopped trying to use her as a pony plow. "Fine, fine. Though why do you want my measurements so bad anyway?" He had begun stripping off his clothes, leaving only the briefs on. Maybe he could get her to make boxers.
"So I can repay you for your help, Darling. Now that you're un-" She stopped.
Looking up, he saw her ears and face flushed red. "Oh great, she's a bit shallow after all."
"Applejack certainly wasn't lying. You are...well built for a unicorn. I don't think I have seen another colt like you..." She stood away and used her magic to begin taking the measurements she wanted; she did his chest twice. And paused by his bands."Those look...fetching on you. Gold would look better, but silver is a good look regardless."
"Oh? Gold does it for me, eh? And do you go undressing all of the guys you meet?" He was grinning as her blushed deepened. "Besides, they're steel. Can't afford silver."
"You are very uncouth, you know that?" She was writing everything down on a notepad that hovered beside her. But that blush remained.
"Well, excuse the orphan for not getting one of them fancy educmacations," that was a lie, and they both knew it, "and whut not like all them rich ponies who has that ther' money they always be slinging about." He was glad AJ wasn't here. He had utterly butchered her accent.
For Rarity's part, she just blinked at him, blush gone. "You're an...Orphan?"
"Uh yeah. Thought AJ would have told you. Didn't she? I didn't exactly keep it a secret."
"I...I am so sorry...what happened? If I may ask, I know it's not polite..." A finger on her lips silenced her. A-ha! Blush back in full swing. He debated but figured what was the harm. So he told her a rough summary of his life while he got dressed again. The blush had gone away once more, but tears seemed to become the new mainstay on her face. Great. Another girl he made cry.
"That is...so...s-o...sadddddd!" She wailed. She really let loose the floodgates. Full waterworks and falling on the couch and everything. She was a dramatic one, that was for sure. "Y-y-yyyyyyou been all alone since you were five...", She broke down again.
"Jesus Christ, girl, this shit didn't even happen to you. Why are you so worked up?" That didn't slow her tears, not a wit. "Come on, Rarity. I'm okay. I may not have a family, but I had an excellent opportunity to go to one of the best-rated schools in the nation. I'm amongst the top of my class." The deluge hadn't stopped, and his mind searched desperately to shut it down. "I even know Princess Celestia, which is bizarre for me, for real. I have an amazingly good life going for me."
Tears were finally slowing beginning to ebb, then stopped altogether. "Y-you know the Princess?" Her eyes sparkled, then darkened. "And I suppose you see her with your usual ensemble." It wasn't a question. His usual garb was a random collared T-shirt and slacks when he wasn't wearing his school uniform.
"Uh, at least twice now. Though, my shirt was pretty ripped up on my second meeting. I was pretty much topless." He looked at her, noticing her aghast expression. He couldn't help himself, and he pushed it. "The way she was looking at me, I think she has a thing for colts, if you know what I'm saying." He winked, and she sputtered and fainted.
"That was almost easy."
Chuckling to himself, he draped a blanket over her and left the home after dressing himself, locking the door behind him. Maybe too easy. He whistled to himself as he meandered down the street.
The sun had gone down, so he was already screwed anyway.
It was over. At long last, his month of suffering had come to an end. Errant Strikes removed the ring with a simple pull, and he immediately began to scratch his horn in earnest.
"Dear God, it itches!"
Once Orion finished satisfying his most base needs, he turned around and lifted the entire family of Apples, and one surprised Belle for shits and giggles.
He got thumped by Granny for his troubles, but that didn't particularly bother him and he laughed in response as she growled at him. Applebloom, though really not aware of anything beyond someone laughing, joined him.
The old mare whacked him again.
Rarity handed him a package with a smile and a smack for including her in that little telekinetic cuddle puddle. She hadn't forgotten his prank on her that night and had been openly harassing him over it for the rest of the month, in a good-natured way.
Opening the gift, he found a series of shirts in browns, grays, and oranges. A bunch of black slacks were underneath.
He was speechless.
Orion could only thank her and got a tearful hug in return before he turned to board the train. Applejack and her whole family mobbed him before he had made it two steps. It was nice. The town of Ponyville may be unimaginative with names. But it was home to some very decent people.
Sitting down in the second to last train cart, he sighed heavily. He'd have to come back for the holidays. Errant sat beside him with a grin.
"So I see you made some "friends"." She remarked rather coyly. He grunted in response. He knew what she was implying and wasn't about to give the mare a chance to rile him. Looking at her, he wondered if he should question the guard on where she had been during his stay. He hadn’t seen a tail hair except in passing.
Instead, his mind turned toward his return to Canterlot. A jerk in his seat and the bellow of the train's whistle indicated that they were beginning to move.
He wondered, as the countryside began to pass his window, what kind of reception he was going to receive when he got back. He wasn't worried about Mrs. Evergarden or the kids at the orphanage.
It was the school that concerned him. Only a month prior found him beating the absolute hell out of a group of dumbasses in full view of much of the student body. How would they perceive him now that it was revealed that he needed to eat meat to survive? How would they reconcile the fact that he was so dangerous physically?
Snoring jerked him from his musings. Guard Lieutenant Errant Strikes had fallen asleep at his side. Head tucked into her chest. She had gone out like a light the moment they pulled away from the station.
He wanted to laugh. No matter the dimension or people, military members seemed to operate the same way.
At her hip was a small folder. He picked it up, already suspecting what it was. He was right.
It was a summary report of his activities during his time in Ponyville. Surprisingly, it didn't cover the lessons he had taught during the science hour. Only remarking that he was in good standing with Emerald Sunflower and the students.
Unsurprisingly, it also covered the timberwolves incident during his first week. That made him wince uncomfortably. Apparently, Errant had gone to Sweet Apple Acres and interviewed the family there, as well as Sergeant Green.
There was a brief explanation of his suspicions about what had happened the night the timberwolves tried to bait the Apple family out of their home.
Besides the aforementioned, it generally gave a brief documentary of his time in the town, including helping Rarity with her gift delivery.
He thought about tossing the entire thing out the window for a moment. Instead, he dug into his satchel and came out with a quill and inkwell and wrote beneath the timberwolf report.
"Dear Princess Celestia," he began to write, "I did what I thought was right. Feel free to argue with me over the merits of my actions at your earliest convenience if that is what you wish. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He signed his name and slid the folder back into its place by Errant's hip.
Turning back to the window, he chuckled to himself. "What if I'd called her Princess Sunbutt?" He almost pulled the report back out to do just that. He decided against that, fingers just inches from yanking the file back to him. With what was in the file, she was going to be pissed off enough with him as it was.
Settling into his seat, he tried to sleep the hour and a half trip off himself. Orion didn't want to think about what awaited him at the end of the rails.
"Princess?" Came the clipped voice of Lucky Write, thankfully pulling her away from the expense reports that covered her desk.
The disaster in Maredo'lado had hit the country hard. Millions of bits were spent on the expedition, over three thousand lives, all lost with no rhyme or reason at all.
The investigation team that sent in the report had not found anypony. Not a single survivor. All that remained was a destroyed ghost town half buried with sand and no leads.
Local Zebrican tribes would not say what happened, or couldn't. It made her angry that their people would not help solve this mystery. Furious even.
Her ponies' lives were lost to their sands. They should at least indicate what had happened.
Compounding this was the report that Tover, a small town on the outskirts of the Everfree, had been decimated. All signs pointed to a timberwolf attack. A few traumatized foals had made it out of that with two badly wounded stallions. Another twenty-five hundred dead.
Worse yet, there were no bodies to consecrate. They had been taken into the forest. That was alarmingly new behavior considering most beasts from the woods just ate where they killed.
Two catastrophes in the span of a year had left her scrambling to allocate funds to the recovery of Tover, which no pony would want to move to after the report came out, and compensation for the herds that lost family members trying to settle in Maredo'lado.
It was maddening and made her want to weep.
So she was very much grateful for the distraction.
"Yes, Lucky?" Picking up a now cold teacup, she sipped the bitter liquid inside. It had been good Prance Black Tea.
"Lieutenant Strikes is reporting in." She responded, stepping fully into the royal study. "I told her that her report should go to her commander at her assigned station, but she has told me she was ordered here." That last bit wasn't a question but came very close.
Celestia's eyes grew wide in surprise, and then she laughed to herself. "Has it already been a month? My, how time flies. Yes, Lucky, I did ask her commander to send her here. Please, send her in. Send her in!" Getting up, she tested the carafe her tea came in and found it still warm. She tossed what was left of her drink out the open window that she had opened earlier and poured a new cup.
Turning about, she found her secretary gone and in her place, striding to the center of her study, was Errant Strikes. Coming to a stop, she saluted smartly, hand across her chest.
"Your Highness."
The mare was unduly nervous. Noticeably so, as her left hand fidgeted on the file she carried.
"At ease, Lieutenant. Tea?"
"Ahh…no, your Highness." Her right hand joined her left on the package. "I was…told by Commander Stout Wing to make my report here. To you." She held the field report out to her.
Something had happened by the look on the mare's face. Celestia took the file from her, placed it on her desk without opening it, and fixed the mare with a steely gaze.
"How long did it take before he got into trouble." It was not a question.
"T-two days, Princess." Errant stuttered out.
A long-suffering sigh escaped from the weary monarch's lips. "What happened?"
"It's...in my report…" the guardsmare swallowed audibly and trailed off. They wilted under her sudden glare.
Celestia schooled her face to stillness. She was being unfair to the young lieutenant.
"I am sorry. I should have expected this. Please tell me what happened?"
For a moment, the mare could only stare in shock. Before, she comically shook her head and coughed into her hand.
"Well, um. Okay, two days into his thirty-day community service, Orion Falls…."
"He had fought and killed a Timberwolf?"
The monarch was still having trouble wrapping that concept around her mind. She had long since released the lieutenant to her duties and now sat in her study rereading a rather inept report on Orion's activities in the town of Ponyville.
The very idea of a fourteen-year-old, a colt no less, harming anything was near impossible to believe for the average pony. Yet, as she read through Errant Strikes' sparse constructed account, she couldn't help but be impressed and be reminded just whom it was covering. This was more than a little concerning, however.
The little message Orion had left, that the good lieutenant hadn't seen, gave her a giggle. Obviously, he had somehow gotten his hands on it without his escort knowing.
However, the colt had far more experience fighting than the lunchroom brawl had indicated.
"There is also the fact that he was willing to square off against the other as well." The entire event chilled her bones.
With the attack on Tover, and now Sweet Apple Acres, she was forced to order increased patrols. Something was stirring in the Everfree.
As she contemplated what other measures she would have to take, not only with the town south of her capital but the nation at large, she couldn't help but have one question rise amongst her plans.
"Just who are you, Orion?"
It had just turned noon when he and Errant had stepped off the train. Giving her an awkward hug goodbye that she had pressured him into, he forced his way into the press of bodies and walked to the nearest tram station.
He idly wondered, as he boarded the tram cart, how long it would be before Celestia would demand to know what the hell he had been thinking.
Orion arrived back inside the orphanage with little fanfare. It was Thursday, and the rest of the kids were still in class, so it was only Mrs. Evergarden that was there to greet him.
Climbing the steps to his room felt oddly easier. His time volunteering on the farm had been good for him, it would seem.
Opening the door, he was greeted with a disheartening sight.
On his desk was a pile of paperwork. A closer inspection showed it was his assignments over the past month.
"Oh fuck me…." He lamented. Orion had not anticipated this.
Atop the pile of delinquent documents of his inevitable doom, was a scroll wrapped in purple ribbon with a seal. The emblem of a double six-pointed star had been pressed into the wax.
If he remembered correctly, that was Twilight's cutiemark.
With dread, he snapped the seal and unraveled the scroll.
"Dear Orion,
"I hope my letter finds you in good spirits. As I write this, it is the day before you are due to return, and with that in mind, I have taken it upon myself to gather your assignments for your past thirty-day suspension.
"With the weekend coming, and you not due in classes till Monday, I anticipate that you will have more than adequate time to complete the courses within that time."
He snorted in agitation. While he could appreciate her help, he couldn't help but be annoyed that he would not have the weekend to relax and get back into his routines.
And why did she sound like some government functionary? Was she pissed at him?
He read on.
"I have also included my own notes during my time in those courses, to better facilitate help to expedite the completion of your studies. I rewrote it all on the standard paper as that may be easier to sort and store."
It seemed she wasn't upset. Not if she was going through all this. Still, this letter was so stiff he could have used it to prop up a wall. He spied a separate pile of papers in her familiar style next to his work.
"I hope to see you in good health and well rested Monday.
"Sincerely,
"Twilight Sparkle
"P.s. I look forward to questioning you on your visit to Ponyville. I've never been, and I wonder what it might be like there."
That last bit had the most emotion he had seen out of the short missive. He let loose another sigh and put the scroll down. He'd just have to ask her about it Monday.
Putting his things away quickly, he started sorting through the pile. It was going to be a long weekend.
He hadn't even sat down yet when there was a knock on his door. It was early morning, and he had just gotten back to his room after grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen.
Grumbling about not wanting to do any chores, he opened it to Mrs. Evergarden and an armored mare he had never seen before.
He seemed to be doing a lot of sighing as of late. Honestly, Orion had expected this, if not so soon.
"Let me get my coat." He groaned as he turned toward the pegs.
"How did you know?" His matron asked in a bewildered tone.
Turning from the wall, he pushed his arms through the thick blue wool of his jacket and grinned at her. "Call it a hunch." Turning to look at the brooding royal guard, who had not said a word. "Well, get going. I got homework to do, might as well get this over with."
"Well, this room is familiar."
He had quickly been ushered into an official-looking carriage, one pulled by pegasi, and promptly set off for the castle. He nearly fell out in relief when they had landed less than five minutes later.
It had felt like an hour to him.
Heights didn't usually bother him. He had flown in planes and on airships before. Those were dependable well maintained machines. No problems there.
But the idea that his life was in the hands of a pair of horses with wings slapped on their backs made him more than a little nervous. They were people, and people grew tired, made mistakes. No matter how many times he had seen them all do it, he could never be comfortable with the idea of someone towing him through the sky.
Once he was finished worshipping the earth he had been blessedly reunited with, much to the amusement of the two stallions that had separated him from it, he was guided in by a maid to the same room he had first had a conversation with Celestia in.
He really didn't want to do this, and he had a pretty good feeling about what she was going to ask. Fortunately, he felt he had a pretty good alibi. The best part, it was true.
The gilded doors opened, and the devil appeared.
"Orion, thank you for not putting up a fuss and coming so quickly." She said formally. Her horn was already glowing, that could be a bad sign. Now he wished he hadn't taken a seat as she waved away his attempt to stand.
"What would have been the point of arguing with that wall of steel you plopped on my doorstep." He forced a laugh, her lips didn't twitch. "Let's get this over with. Thanks to your student, I don't get to spend a relaxing weekend getting back into the groove of my life."
She paused and fixed him with a look before finally sitting down in front of him, and a familiar file dropped in front of him. Her horn did not wink out.
"Care to explain what happened your first week in Ponyville?" The Princess's stern voice brooked no humor. Oh, she was upset, upset.
"Tried an easy method to save the Apple family's dog and fell off the roof. I wasn't positive I could outrun the bastards, so I fought, and won." That was a plain enough explanation. Though really, it was a shitshow from the very beginning.
"Orion, do not insult my intelligence. I gave explicit instructions for you to keep out of trouble and for the nullstone ring to remain on during the duration of your community service. You violated both. Why?" The heat from her tone alone would have been enough to cook him had it been possible.
"Because a family member of the people that had been nice enough to feed me was in danger. And I thought I could save 'em easily with a capesso spell, the fluffy pup would have been safe, and we would have been buttoned up inside the family home." That was precisely his plan to a tee. Her horn was still golden, so he had a feeling she was using that truth spell on him.
He wondered how that worked, and also reevaluated what he knew of mind manipulation magic. Which wasn't much, but perhaps she couldn't just invade minds after all.
"So you jeopardize your life, for a dog?" She retorted scornfully.
"To them, a family member. And I'd do it again." He almost finished with something a little too close to the real truth.
The simple fact was that he was tired of running from problems. Running had done nothing but make it all worse. However, he might be going a little hard on that aspect of his life.
"Orion, it was a pet. As awful as this may sound, a pet can be replaced." Her face softened. "A pony's life, cannot."
"Have you ever had a pet?" He couldn't believe she was being this heartless.
"I actually have one now. A phoenix named Philomena." She said rather primly.
He almost had a brain hemorrhage. She has a phoenix as her animal companion. An animal that literally burns itself to death, only to be reborn as an egg that hatches in the ashes of its dead body. Well, it was no wonder she had a rather callous view on animal companions. She never had to really worry about hers.
She was staring at him strangely. He had been silent and still too long.
"So, how would you feel if your phoenix were to die?" He had to play this one by ear. Class had not discussed phoenix biology in any capacity. In fact, he had seen nothing on it in the copious amounts of animal reference books that Twilight had crammed into his hands on a weekly basis. It wasn't even mentioned in legendary beastaries she had given him. That was odd now that he thought about it. Why was there no mention of phoenixes?
Celestia smiled warmly. "Of course not. I don't suppose you know this, but a phoenix's life span is an almost endless cycle of death and rebirth. See, when a phoenix comes to the end of its life cycle, it burns away, leaving ashes. From those ashes, comes an egg. Once more, the bird will be born anew." Her eyes sparkled with delight.
He ruined that.
"Can a dog essentially rebirth itself?"
"Well, no. They cannot." She frowned, then her eyes grew wide, and he nodded.
"Yeah, exactly. For you, your bird can keep coming back. You will get time with them. For Applejack, once Winona is gone, she is gone. They'll not get a second chance. For the Apples, that dog is family. As much a part of them as a foal and herd. To lose her so quickly would be heartbreaking for them."
"I see." She nodded slowly. "Perhaps my experience has blinded me to the fact that my ponies are not so fortunate to find a companion that will live as long as they. I have forgotten how short life can be for some." Then she opened the folder with a flick of her horn, and her finger came down on the page. Hard. "I am more concerned with you in any case. Orion, where did you learn to fight like this?"
Oh good. He wouldn't have to lie after all.
"That…was more like flailing with hope. Most of my time was spent avoiding teeth and being bodied into things. I think they were mostly focused on driving me toward the forest." He shrugged uncomfortably at the memory.
"Yes." Celestia said softly. "About that, Lieutenant Strikes noted your suspicions. Would you care to elaborate on that?"
Orion stood and walked to the window. It looked out over the practice yards of the east side of the castle.
"Princess…it was a trap as clear as glass." He turned back to her. "That fuck was just going through the motions. Hell, the pigs had not even had their pen broken, and they were closer to the forest." The white monarch's eyes widened. "Yeah. Books in class say they're as dumb as any beast. Bullshit. Those fuckers set a trap and were hoping to catch more in that net when they toyed with me the way they did."
Celestia looked back toward the file.
"...these reports I'm getting really need to be more thoroughly researched." She huffed in exasperation, her horn finally winking out. "It seems everypony is only doing half the job." She was pouting now. It was rather cute to see. Her eyes suddenly sharpened. "Still, I do not approve. Orion, this is beyond what you should have done."
"I. Fell." He repeated. "I didn't get much chance to even do anything other than dodge a lot. Fuck me. I didn't even do that much punching till the damn thing was on top of me."
"You were lucky, Orion. Very lucky." She admonished. She was right, of course; it had been sheer chance that he had survived. It had been too much of a close call. Those fuckers had been relentless, and had they gotten him to the forest…
For a long moment, the colt and the monarch were silent. Both lost in their own thoughts. Hers were unknown. However, Orion's was on that night. He hadn't really realized just how close to death he had been until it was over. Rather than dwell on it, he had shoved it aside and buried it deep.
Unfortunately for him, this conversation with Celestia had stirred it all up again, and he was having a bit of a problem suppressing it to something manageable.
Not only the incident from Ponyville, but the near-death experience he faced when he had confronted Cottonridge had also decided to join in his increasingly agitated mind. Warm hands rested comfortingly on his shoulders. He was shaking.
"A-hhhh…s-s-shit." He stuttered. Looking up at her, he glared with little heat. "I b-b-blame y-you. I w-as doin' fi-ine till y-you wan-," he gulped, "wanted to grill me on this s-shit." He finished.
"Shhhhh….it is alright. You are safe, Orion." She drew him in, and his head was smushed into the tops of her breast, her own settling over his. Like her hands, she was warm.
That helped.
She held him as tightly as she dared. The poor foal.
This had been foolish. The idea that he might be an Umbrum had swam in her head despite all the evidence to the contrary. This just proved how fruitless it had been and showed her own paranoia for what it was.
He was an unusually brave colt. But that was not unheard of. Given his life, before coming to Equestria, she should have figured out that this would be how he would eventually become.
However, she could not help but smile as she began to rock him gently. From what she had found out, he really did not like being touched all that much. For him to not fight against her was an obviously rare privilege. One she relished.
He had been honest with her. He never once winced in pain, and she detected nothing in his mannerisms to say otherwise. She just wished her questioning hadn't brought this out of him.
Celestia had seen it before. Countless times in her long existence. One's first experience on the battlefield would bring this out of most, no matter how tough the exterior. It was not easy; killing a creature, no matter how base the foe might be, the act of taking a life can have a catastrophic impact on somepony. That and imminent death, of which Orion undoubtedly had faced down both.
Soon enough, he pulled away, and she was surprised to find no tears, just a numb stare boring through her.
"Are you okay now, Orion?" She cupped his chin, and he sluggishly pushed her hand away. Celestia frowned.
"Yeah...yeah, I think I am…." He rubbed his hands across his face. The numb expression was slowly fading. "Didn’t…didn't really let myself process all that shit when it happened."
"That is not healthy. I am setting up a meeting with a therapist." He, of course, objected.
"Absolutely not!" He declared with all the confidence of a stallion three times his age. "My brain, my choice."
"I shall not yield on this, Orion. You will see Doctor Fair Heart. She has experience with what you are going through. You need this." She fixed him with a pleading look. "Please. Not for myself, or anypony else, but for you."
His face took on the image of a cornered Diamond Dog as his eyes darted in apprehension. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But I'm likely not saying shit." He muttered petulantly.
"We shall see." She paused, this had really lasted much longer than she had wanted, but something she had been mulling around since she had read the report made her broach the subject with him.
His talent for combat could not be ignored; even if it was only “hopeful flailing”, it was still remarkable. She would not be surprised to find that he actually has a cutiemark in punching of all things.
"Orion." She spoke up firmly. Her tone must have alarmed him because his eyes shot up at her. "I am going to make a proposal to you. You are under no obligation to accept at this time. But I do wish for you to consider it all the same."
"Okay…." His distrust ruled his body and face.
"Over the centuries, much fewer in this time period than any other for obvious reasons, stallions of incredible fortitude and strength of will and character have stepped forth from the shadow of the everypony. To stand bright in…why are you laughing?"
He was laughing, and it sounded slightly manic. He was clutching his stomach tightly and kicking his hooves. It took a few moments for him to settle before he spoke. And when he did, his voice was heavy with mirth.
"Are you trying to recruit me for the guard?" He stifled more giggles.
She folded her arms and glared at him from the side of her eye. "Yes! Is that such a surprise? You have an extraordinary aptitude for combat. I recognize the wild nature you exude. But I once knew a stallion who would not stop diving into the water to rescue those still trapped beneath a capsized vessel. I see much of him in you."
"Yeah, and I bet he didn't come back himself on his last trip, did he?" He scoffed back.
Celestia was silent a moment before answering him. "...you are correct. I cannot lie to you that his actions that day did not cost him his life. But he saved twelve ponies." After what he had done, she had thought he was beyond this kind of disregard for another's noble deeds.
"I don't want to be like that." Her left eyebrow arched, almost on its own. "I don't! Listen, he did what he thought was right. And I guess to a certain extent, I do too. But I didn't just jump from the roof of the Apple's household thinking of being some hero. I slipped on some loose shingles in the fucking rain. I fought to survive at that point."
"Do you think that the Apples do not see you as a hero? That the citizens of Ponyville do not know of your deeds and think fondly on you?" She mused for a moment. "If all you did was fight to survive, why did you recreate a spell not often talked about, much less taught? "Auferte" is not a well-known fundo. Not for…oh six, seven hundred years now, I think. Using it to send the Apple's dog into the house in the middle of all that had been a brilliant move."
It wasn't disregard for that noble stallion's sacrifice. It was self-preservation that made him resist willingly placing himself in danger.
"Wait? What? "Auferte" ? There's a name for that? The hell is a "fundo"?"
Celestia giggled. "Fundo means to cast. And yes, my little pony, you recreated a spell that was the exact opposite of capesso . It's fairly more complicated and was eventually replaced with the ease levitation brought. It takes knowing the location you're trying to put the item in rather intimately. You can see why it fell out of favor?"
"Yeah. But I didn't just come up with it on the spot." The monarch's eyebrows rose, and he blushed. "I had…started working on it months ago. I figured if the principles behind capesso worked as they did, then the opposite should work just as well. Honestly, Winona got lucky she wasn't turned inside out. My success ratio was pretty awful before that night."
"That is even more impressive." Celestia was impressed. While it was true that the spell was already created, he had not known of it beforehand and had worked hard to create something new for himself.
"Eh, it doesn't matter." He rubbed his face. "Going back to the other thing, I want to live my life, Princess. Really live it. If anything, I would hope this shrink of yours will be able to help my ass with my impulse control. I do reckless shit, and it's going to get me killed." He sighed and ran his hands through his mane. The beads of metal and wood cracked discordantly together. "Gonna sound rude here, but are we done?"
It was rude, and she did not like how he seemed to be less inclined to help himself, wanting only immediate solutions. It was short-sighted, but the set of his shoulders as he sat before her told the monarch that she would not get much more out of him this day.
Honestly, she let him get away with far too much, and she wanted to come down harder on him. But his closeness with her student, which was proving a net positive as Twilight had started to gain a few friends outside of him, made it difficult for her to want to follow through.
"Yes, I suppose we are. I am glad to see you safe, Orion. I hope the events of the past month shall allow you to act with more foresight than you have allowed yourself." She gave him a wry smile. "Such as taking on grown ponies for the sake of others."
"Oh, come on! That was one time!" He shouted, causing Silver Bell to peek her head in and glare at him as she opened her mouth. She did not go unnoticed. "Can it, chrome-dome." Her look of offense, of course, was ignored as his eyes swung back to Celestia. "Ya can't keep lordin' that over me."
She could not help but laugh. Not just for the country twang in his voice that he no doubt picked up in his time in the rural town, but for his almost immediate forgetfulness of the arguments about family members and the place the Apple's canine occupied.
"Once? My dear colt. According to your earlier logic, the events in Ponyville would make it the second time you acted with little regard for self-preservation in the service of others." Oh, this was delightful for her as she watched his lips flap with no sound escaping past them.
It was strange in a way, Celestia usually would not desire to upset a foal of any age. But something about Orion made her mind treat him as she would an adult in court. Rather than withdraw entirely like most would, he challenged, and fought back for his own space within her sight.
In many ways, he was an adult in his own right, and she had recognized it while still acknowledging his youthfulness. A strange conundrum she found herself in.
As he started stating his case to the contrary, though she was sure he knew it was fruitless, she began to sketch out a plan to help him deal with the trauma he had earned.
Somepony should have done it when he had been rescued in Stalliongrad, yet that part of his care had been neglected. And she would be lying to herself if she was not curious to know what drove him to intervene for others.
"You have been neglected, young Orion, but no more. You have a bright future ahead of you, and your courage and quick wit will be added by the help I can give you now."
Leaving the three-story white bricked build, Orion ground his teeth.
He had agreed, despite not really having an option to refuse, he still did it, but this Fair Heart chick was already getting on his nerves.
Growing up back on earth, he had been subject to more than a few psychologists and therapists. His grandparents had been concerned about his antisocial behavior and tendency to get into trouble in class. So they ran through the gambit of "professionals" that never seemed to actually want to solve his problems.
Because of that, he never really allowed them to help him when the rare one that actually cared popped up. Instead, he simply made up nonsense they both knew was bull and carried on with his life.
Dr. Heart actually held a doctorate in trauma. More notably, she dealt with soldiers and guards specifically. So he was her very first foal case. Celestia wasn't playing around, that was certain.
But like everything in his life, there was a complication.
The shrink saw him as just another teenage foal. Worse yet, she saw him as a typical colt, which meant she was rather infantile and soft in her approach to dealing with him. Becoming alarmed and even outraged when he rebuffed her, causing her to lecture him on how terribly he was behaving.
This had the unfortunate effect of him telling her rather forcefully to take her notepad and shove it into her unmentionables before marching out.
He was definitely going to get a letter from the Princess about this.
It wasn't long before he found his hooves had taken him to the park across from the orphanage. Taking a seat at the bench, he watched as kids played and herds walked the well-maintained mulch paths.
"You knew this was coming eventually, dumbass." He admonished himself. And he had been expecting it on some level since Mrs. Branch, but to be smacked in the face with blatant sexism was jarring.
He supposed he had gotten lucky up to now that no one but the old nag had called him on it. In this society, or at least in the cities, stallions did not bicker with Better Mares.
He wanted to fault them for it. However, the sad fact was he could not. For whatever reason, evolution, a curse, some mad gods' idea of a good time, mares had been running the show for a very long time. It was institutional at this point.
As he was beginning to seriously contemplate a role in the overthrow of a matriarchal society, someone sat down next to him on his bench.
Turning his head to look, he bit back a curse. Dr. Fair Heart had followed him.
Neither spoke for a time. He had shifted to look away from her while staunchly refusing to run from the mare. Again.
Soon enough, the psychologist was the first to break the ice.
"I…apologize, Mr. Falls." He snorted. Still refusing to glance back at her, despite the remorse in her voice. "I am more accustomed to mares having survived terrible incidents in battle. Them dealing with survivor's guilt. The loss of limbs and purpose in life."
"That doesn't mean you can just dismiss others' problems because they happen to have external plumbing." He quietly responded. He had done enough shouting in her office.
"No, and that was my mistake." He could hear her sigh heavily and shift. "I've never…thought that a colt could go through the same things. Looking through your file that the Throne had provided, I couldn't accept, or at least rationalize it as possible." Her hand touched his shoulder.
Orion nearly jerked away, but he had worked too hard not to look like the petulant child. His storming out notwithstanding, he tolerated the contact.
"Is there a point to this little speech?" Okay, now that was petulant. "Sorry."
"No, no, you have a right to be upset. You are such an unusual pony that it is difficult to approach you properly. My point is that…I would like to start again. If you would allow it."
He finally looked at her. Gray furred ears laid back in her excessively curly blue mane. Gray eyes peered back at him past a pair of half-rimmed glasses. Deep concern was held in her gaze. She really was sorry.
She had not brought her notepad, he noted with a wry grin.
"And this isn't to stay on Celestia's good side?"
A scandalous look flashed across her face at the name. "No! Stars above, no! The Princess is the least of my concern." She cocked her head, an eyebrow arched. "Why do you insist on using her name like that?"
"Why not? First of all, nowhere in any law I could find prohibits someone from using her name in any capacity other than with the title in front of it. Second, on that list is look at all the businesses with her name plastered on the signs above them. Clearly, they do not fear the wrath of the Riven Throne. And finally, you would think someone as long-lived as she would appreciate being reminded that she is still a person. Even if it never directly gets back to her." That last might have been total bullshit.
"I see." Was her response. After a bit, he wondered why she was being silent until he remembered her earlier question. She was waiting for an answer.
"Fine. But let's…keep this stuff to recent events. I'd rather not talk too much about the past." He finally relented.
"I can accept that." She glanced around and smiled. "And if you would like, we can conduct your sessions out here or in an open and comfortable place of your choosing."
Looking around the park himself, he nodded. "Yeah, I hate offices. Sitting rooms, too for that matter. This'll do."
"Excellent. Well, strike when the iron is hot, as my mother would have said. Tell me, Orion, how do you feel after surviving a rather terrifying attack as you had done down in Ponyville? What went through your mind?"
"Heh, you don't waste any time." He chuckled. "I suppose at the time, nothing was going through my head. I was so caught up in the moment I didn't think about what I was doing. Only what needed to be done. I had a plan, but…."
Coming back to school was very weird for him. He figured that the students would avoid speaking to him, and they had done so.
What made it so strange was he felt like the walking embodiment of Moses. As he passed through the halls, the ponies would give him a wide berth that made him feel like he was walking in a bubble.
They were also doing their damnedest not to even look at him. Pretending he was not even there while still making room.
"For fucks sake, this is ridiculous." The problem was how should he go about stopping it?
For the entire first week, he formulated and trashed ideas. One having been making and handing out the fountain pens he had finally perfected, with "I'm sorry" carved into them.
That was a moneymaker, and he wasn't about to give it up. Not to mention he only had the one available to him at that moment. The cost in materials alone would be too much for his meager allowance to allow him to do it with any degree of speed.
What he ended up doing was interesting, if a little disruptive, and easy. He liked easy.
What was she to do? Twilight had been avoiding Orion since his return. Her excitement at seeing him again had been shattered upon seeing the colt walking through the hall his first day back.
Everypony avoided him, creating a gap in the press of bodies in his passing. There was no way she could not have seen him.
The moment she had laid eyes on him, that scene on the mezzanine stilled her hooves. Practically anchoring the purple filly in place. She was still scared of him, despite the assurances, the Princess had given her.
It left the taste of bile in the back of her throat.
Disgust at her own fear. At her shame. Was he not her friend? Did he not prove time and again that he was a good pony that only had a few rough edges? A grim sense of humor?
The sound of muffled explosions jerked her from her thoughts, nearly making her fall over in surprise.
She was in the east wing near the cafeteria. This was Orion's lunch hour. Her eyes grew wide.
“Not again!”
She pushed the door open, skidding to a halt in front of the cafeteria.
"As you can see, just touching the compound with nothing more than a feather can result in a rapid series of explosions."
"What?!"
Orion was standing in the center of the room, a table in front of him, and Mr. Chloride stood near him, beaming from ear to ear.
On the table were various beakers she recognized from the chemistry department. In front of that were little plates, some fractured, popping loudly as a burnt feather was brushed over the strange magenta-colored substance sitting on top, the vapor rising into the air in a similar color.
"He is….teaching…during lunch hour..?"
Twilight's mind couldn't rationalize what she was seeing. She had never imagined her friend as a teacher. He hated most other ponies their age in fact. To see this…it was too much for the star student.
"Yes?" He called out, a smile on his face as he noticed a hand had gone up. He was actually enjoying himself.
"Uh…why does it do that?" Violet Beaker called out.
"That's a bit complicated, but I'll break it down for you as easy as I can." He grinned as he made another explode on the table with. "Nitrogen atoms like to form bonds of three. They like to fuse a little with other things." A yellow ball, and three green balls appeared in front of them. "However, when you stick 'em all together," she watched as the three green balls connected to the yellow in a bunch on one end, "they form a kind of tension. The iodine atoms are bigger than the Nitrogen atom is. It makes them very reactive to touch of any kind. The wrong breeze could set it off."
He demonstrated by dropping the remains of the feather on the last one. It, of course, exploded.
"Like that. It's a very unstable molecule structure." Another hand rose. "Yes?"
"Why is it only one side?" Talcum asked.
"Unfortunately, I don't have enough time to give a more in-depth answer, but it's basically where the electrons are on a Nitrogen atom. That's why the tension."
"I think that's enough, Orion. Why don't you get to what you originally wanted to say." Mr. Chloride said, a hand on the colt's shoulder.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Can you-?" He gestured to the table.
"Of course, I can have that cleaned up in a jiffy." He smiled warmly as his horn burst to life.
"Cool, thanks, boss." He turned to the rest of the cafeteria, the atmosphere more palpable now that the fun lesson was over. "Alright, you idiots. Now, the past week y'all have been avoiding my ass. Pretending I don't exist and shit. That's going to stop. I'm not some loose cannon that's going to go on a rampage and beat the hell out of everyone. I'm not gonna eat anyone either just cause I need meat to maintain a healthy diet." He laughed. "Besides, I don't know what all ya feed yourselves, but I doubt it would be healthy for me."
"But you hurt ponies!" Shouted Fancy Breeze.
"Yeah, because they were hurting me, disgusting. What was I supposed to do? Let them kick my ass? Besides, you were there. Why didn't you defend me?" She gave no answer, but she sat back down, looking ashamed.
"So you are not going to be hurting anypony else?" Another she did not know asked.
"Not unless one of you is dumb enough to try what Golden Trot and his little gang of misfits tried to do. I don't want problems. I just want to get through school like the rest of you. So as long as you treat me with the same civility you treat each other, we should get along," he shrugged his shoulders, arms outstretched, "just fine. That doesn't mean you have to be my friend. Just be cordial."
The cafeteria grew silent. Everypony looking at each other. Then a new pony raised her hand. Twilight recognized her, Buttercup Spray. The filly that had been confrontational on Orion's first day.
"Shoot." He said with an expectant look on his face.
Her hand slowly lowered, and she cleared her throat.
"Why is it that you need meat?" She blushed furiously at his chuckle. "Well, it's not natural. For a pony, that is."
"No…no need to get defensive. I was just thinking I might need to pay for a set of cards to be made. So that they can explain this." He rubbed his hands together and gestured. "As to why, I'm not really sure. It's just always been that for me. I suppose one of my parents had a little more carnivore DNA than expected and out popped me."
"Oh." She sat down thinking.
Another hand shot up, Fancy Pants this time, and Orion nodded to him.
"Does it taste good?" He asked curiously, with no disgust on his face at all—just open and honest curiosity.
"It does. Much like I'm sure flowers and hay taste good to all of you. Because of my biology, I can't even have any of that. So it will cost me a pretty bit to feed myself once I get out on my own. You all are lucky." That got some small awkward laughter from the crowd. "Okay, one last question before I go and shovel food into my face. You." He pointed at a petite gray filly. "I think I know you."
"My name is…Lazy Rain…" Orion's eyes bulged. "Hi…Orion.." She said familiarly.
Lazy Rain was dressed in the official school uniform. Her long black mane fell in luxurious waves down one side of her face, though a strand wrapped delicately around her horn. Piercing blue eyes watched him with something she could not quite place.
Twilight didn't know why, but she suddenly found herself with an intense dislike for the gray-furred filly.
"Ho-ly shit. Lazy! Look at you." He laughed. "What are you doing here?"
"My family…lives here." She murmured quietly.
"Oh…ooooohhhh. Dude. Awesome, it'll be nice to see a familiar face." He smiled. "So your question? I'm presuming you've been holding onto it for quite some time."
"Are….are you dating anypony?"
A pin dropped could have been heard in that silence, and at that moment. Twilight watched his face morph from delight, to surprise, then shock, and finally horror.
The bell buzzed, and Orion quickly left the hall.
Winter arrived with all the control a society that manipulated the weather at will could. Meaning it was scheduled, and there was never a snow day.
He helped remove the frozen build-up from the sidewalk in front of the orphanage of the nightly deposit. Rather than use a shovel, he melted it with a blend of heat and air, carving a path through the inches-deep pile-ups so that everyone could leave safely.
He figured he should get it done as he was headed back to Ponyville for the holiday season.
It had been hell getting permission from Mrs. Evergarden, as the mare had been worried that he would get himself involved in another incident. It took a letter from Granny before she had relented.
He wondered if he should be worried, he had not seen what was in the missive, but it had the matron's eyes wide with excitement.
Twilight had invited him over to her family's home a week prior, and he turned her down, much to the filly's dismay. However, she brightened a bit when she overheard him giving Lazy a similar rejection.
There was trouble brewing there. Since that question the gray-furred filly had asked a couple of months ago, there had been an odd tension between the pair. Anytime Orion saw them in close proximity, he walked in the other direction.
Stepping off the train, he was greeted with a tackle hug by an overly enthusiastic apple horse. He squeezed her back while laughing at her antics, and the fact he was getting used to physical touch from these people.
"Hey, Applebottom, how's the family?" That earned him a rather vicious slug to the arm.
"Told ya ta call me AJ, 'Rion." There was no heat in her voice, and the twinkle in her eye made him laugh as he rubbed his arm.
"Whatever she whose rear is apple-shaped, what's the word?"
She relented her mock glare and spilled.
Her family had gotten together and gotten Big Mac a new plow. It was copper plated to ease the metal into the earth, making it easier to pull. Orion didn't think Mount Muscle needed it, not that anyone was asking.
Granny was whipping up all the family favorites for the holidays, which told him he might want to borrow Diesel's plow for himself.
Little Applebloom was still a freeloader, barely crawling. According to AJ, she had an appetite to beat all of them.
Rarity was in Manehattan with her family, but she sent her regards and a few shirts and pants as a gift. The clever filly made them a couple of sizes bigger so he could still fit into them.
It was during the night of Hearth's Warming Eve that Granny sprung her little surprise.
"Orion?"
He had been putting away the dishes for AJ as she washed them, she had gone upstairs to get ready for bed only a few moments ago. Pear was putting little Applebloom down for the night as well.
Big Mac had fallen asleep on the couch, and his dad was having trouble trying to wake him. Unsurprising considering how much the stallion had eaten.
"Yeah, Granny, need help with something?" He turned around, wiping his hands off with a hand towel.
"No, youngin', just wanted a minute of yer time if ya willin'." She replied, gesturing to the study room of the home just down the hall from the kitchen. "Join me?"
Curious, he simply nodded and followed after her.
Settling into a pair of comfortable farm chairs, she slid a mug with a dark golden liquid inside and picked up one of her own.
He took a sip, and his eyes widened in shock. The old farm pony had given him alcohol! True, he could barely taste it, but it was there all the same. He swung his surprised gaze at her.
"Now there's a colt who knows what Cider tastes like. Ya lived a very intrasting life, haven't ya, Orion."
He had a lot of questions, but she had a reason for all of this, and he wasn't about to start babbling. Instead, he took a deep sip and sighed. It was really good.
She merely chuckled and followed suit before putting the mug aside. She set her shoulders and caught his attention once more.
"Orion, me and tha family, have thought 'bout this a long time."
"Ahhh…shit. Don't tell me…."
"We'd like ta offer ya a permanent home here on the farm." She raised a hand to stop him. "Wait till I'm finished, colt." Nodding firmly once she saw that he was going to comply, she went on. "Now, I know ya like the education yer gettin' up there in Canterlot, and we don't want ta do anythang to upset that. I'm sure I ken arrange somethin' fer ya to stay at while goin' ta school. We ken afford it. We now yer also reluctant ta take up with anypony. But I think we ken give ya the best life here, durin' the summa. A place ta call home."
She sat back, took a swing, and watched as Orion thought furiously.
He couldn't deny that it was a good deal. The ability to get away from the capital and all its troubles, even for the summer, was highly appealing.
If they could really arrange for him to live up there on his own, he would have a lot more freedom to do the things he wanted to do. Depending on where he moved into, he might not even have to move his little workshop in the sewers.
He almost said yes.
He should have said yes, but as he thought, he realized all the trouble they could get into if he was suddenly found out to be the enchanter that fixed Celestia's gate.
Then came the resources and time he would lose during the summer. The three months off was when he got most of his experiments done. Forager had been instrumental in getting quality material for his projects. In turn, he had begun to pay off that help with the jewelry the old minotaur was having difficulty crafting himself, his little forge being enough to make such intricate pieces, and his magic having more refined control than a bull with a hammer ever could.
Then there was Twilight. Forced as he had been, he was loathed to leave her alone. Celestia was correct in her assessment of her protégé. The filly was really bad at making friends, though he had seen signs that she was getting better at that. Still, he had become relatively comfortable with their study sessions during the time off and would regret that loss immensely.
Besides, she was brilliant, and had helped him figure out more than one issue he couldn't solve himself. With her increased assignments and change in schedule, not to mention his own, they often didn't get a lot of time together.
But all that was secondary to the sudden sinking in his stomach. It was something he could barely admit to himself. He was scared. Scared of the change that would come from accepting this offer. He had always known that he would have to find his way in the world when he graduated. But that was planned for. This would upend all that. It was almost crippling how much he didn't want that.
"No." He quietly said, and Granny’s face fell. "Not that it's not tempting, Granny, and I do appreciate the offer, but….I can't. I just can't."
"I know ya scared, Orion, but-"
"That's part of it, much as it shames me to admit it. But it's only one part." It was his turn to raise a hand to forestall her. "Of which I will not be explaining. I…appreciate the offer, but I am going to have to say no." He drained the last bit of cider he had been given, and left without a word.
He had left once he knew they were all asleep, Winona tried to bark, but he silenced her with a spell that would dissipate within a few hours.
Despite the chill, he barely noticed. He cursed his cowardice. Because what he was doing was running away. He had run away from his grandparents all those years ago. Ran away from Stone getting his ass handed to him. Now he was running away from a family willing to open their home to him.
He felt sick, but he couldn't stop his hooves from taking him to the train station. He merely waited till the early morning train arrived, and he boarded it with a purchased ticket.
As the locomotive picked up the pace, he fought tears back as he held onto his things. The fear of truly caring about others, flogged his soul.
Author's Note
GOOOOOOOOOOD DAY!
Hello kind readers, it is I, Morgan! Here to bring you an all new chapter into the ever changing fuckery that is Orion's life.
As always, leave a comment. Call your representatives. Throw me a pallet of bricks! Whatever your pleasure. And thank you, once more for visiting my lowly page.
If you like my work and wish to donate a couple of bucks so I can buy a beer, here is my Kofi . I have a few new things that will drop on that page at the end of Sept. (I Hope
Other than that, enjoy and thanks for reading.
Peace!!
Breakdown
"MOTHER FUCKER!" Orion roared as he desperately tried to smother the flames that sparked and flickered fitfully from the long metal and wood board he had been working on.
He wasn't worried about anyone hearing him. He had long ago figured out how to soundproof the small chamber hidden within an offshoot path of the sewer system. Nor was he concerned about smoke choking him out as the room was well ventilated.
No, he was just plain angry.
Angry that this was the fifth board he had burnt to a crisp in the last six months. No, it was more than just the smoking dreams before him.
He was pissed at himself. This was just the latest to upset him.
After the offer from Granny, and his subsequent running away, he had thrown himself into his private research. Either ignoring or being short with any mail the Apple Family sent him. The guilt tore at him each time he did so, but he could not face them. Fear kept his hooves from making even a weekend visit.
So, instead, he devoted himself to projects as a way of distracting himself.
Which led to him wasting material he had earned from Forager on the idea that he could build a hoverboard. An actual hoverboard, not that janky two-wheel construction he had seen kids in neighborhoods rolling about on, back on earth.
As he watched the fire slowly extinguish, with his magic's help, he went over in his head what had gone wrong this time. Getting it to hover had been no problem; using an anti-gravity enchantment had been all but child's play. But it would not go anywhere other than using his hoof to push the device for locomotion.
When he tried to put in a propulsion system, the two spells warped and ripped apart the insides of the board. What was he doing wrong?
Looking into the exposed innards of his latest failure, he sighed. It would all have to be melted down again. None of it was salvageable as they were right at that moment.
"Well, I got the time to try again, I suppose." He thought miserly.
It was Estrus season once more. Which meant classes were on hiatus till mother nature was done fucking with the mares of the nation. He was certainly glad to be reborn in this world as a guy. It would suck to have to go through life like that.
Slowly ripping the "wires" of gold and copper out of the board's shell with his magic, those not melted to slag at least, he idly played with a dagger he had crafted a few months back. It was designed with a stunning charge in the handle that connected to the blade.
The handle itself was made of rubber. He had crafted the rubber from the extracts of an insane amount of dandelions he had pulled a little under a year earlier. After adding ammonia and starting the process of coagulation with some acid, he had come up with about five pounds of the stuff.
His reasoning for the blade had been the reminder of almost being caught by that griffon Moya employed, Scout. Last time he only had a janky knife to use, and that didn't put the bird brain down.
A popping sound occurred behind Orion, and his blood ran cold.
In his efforts to hide his little hole in the sewer wall, barriers that could act as a solid surface had been easy to make. One of the beads in his mane had been made with the enchantment. Acting as a kind of I.D. card for him. It had been one of his more clever ideas; it kept people out and unaware that there was anything there at all.
There was another type of barrier he could have made that required a rare gem called anthracite. In his world, it was nothing more than a better version of coal. Here in this world, however, it was a blue-green stone that seemed afire with inner light. Its connection to natural magic gave it the edge when compared to all other gems, as it allowed spells to touch the veil between realities. It acted as a projection antenna rather than an anchor power source.
Teleportation was essentially a breach in reality when formed, like a wormhole connecting one place to another. The barrier would deny people from entering a set area of the creator's choosing.
There were two reasons he hadn't made one. First, it was extremely hard to find. From what he knew, Equestria was the only nation to have a source, and that was heavily guarded. Secondly, the barrier he made would immediately implicate him as an enchanter. The effort in creating one would not prove to be a benefit at that point. He had a rough idea of how to craft one, but it would be a trial and error deal that he was not sure he had the patience for.
So each time he came down to his workshop was a risk, which is why he stuck to a nighttime schedule.
Besides, polite ponies never just teleported in on someone like that. However, that was primarily due to the restrictions on teleportation. You couldn't teleport into a cave; something about the stone's interference. And you had to be already close to your target to find them.
Turning around slowly, he was greeted with the sight of Twilight Sparkle, gazing about with increasing levels of shock, judging by the widening of her eyes. She knew what she was looking at. The how she knew could be figured out later.
He pulled all the magic he could from his two bands and his horn and wrapped her up in flows of air, securely trapping her horn in raw strands of his own aura. He poured every ounce of extra strength into that. She was more powerful than him by far, even with the crafted faux horns around each of his biceps.
He gripped the dagger in his hand tighter and held it outside her view. No chances. He watched in panicky silence as she gazed back at him, terrified.
"O-Orion?" She asked hesitantly.
"Shut the fuck up!" He hisses at her. His mind was having trouble trying to formulate a plan. Could he make it out of the city before she broke through the bonds he would be forced to trap her in? Could he even bind her?!
"Are…are these what I think they are?" Her voice picked up in a greater panic, mirroring his own anxiety riddled mind.
"I said shut up!" He shouted, making her wince. "The fuck, Twilight! Why in the hell did you TELEPORT to me directly?!"
She didn't say anything at first. Her lips quivering like she was going to cry. She had made no attempt to break his hold on her as of yet, but tears leaked down the side of her muzzle.
"Oh, for the love of…you can answer the question." He facepalmed.
"Y…y-ou were not in your room, so I thought I would find you quicker by doing…." She said nervously.
"You visited me at..." He looked at the wall-mounted clock he had brought down there with him in order to keep track of time and gaped at the display. "TEN AT NIGHT?!" He roared, grateful for the time of evening and the wards he had in place. In truth it was twenty after ten, but Lizard Brain had locked onto the simple fact that it was late.
"I…I was bored…and wanted to see you?" That sounded like an excuse. He wanted to smash his brains out into the rough stone walls of the room. He was busted, he was screwed, all because one bored ass filly wished to see him.
"Jesus Christ, Twilight…" He whimpered. "I am screwed because of you!" She gaped at him. "Celestia is gonna find out, and my ass will be thrown in a cell. A very nice cell with a lovely view, but a cell nevertheless!" He hissed out.
"Why would she do that?!" She shouted at him, offended on her mentor's behalf. Then switched gears. "You are an enchanter! An Artificer! The first in centuries, if anything, she would more than likely help you further your knowledge!"
Orion could only groan in frustration. At seventeen, and as bright as she was, he would have expected her to learn a little about valuable resources and the effects those resources can have on a nation.
"When was the last time there was an enchanter, Twilight?" He asked quietly.
"Um, not since Starswirl the Bearded. After the great vanishing in twelve thirty-one, twelve hundred years ago. Why?"
Starswirl had somehow cropped up again. He ignored it for now.
"Do you know what would happen if Celestia was to find out that I am an enchanter?"
"She would probably take you in. To give you access to the best Equestria could offer." She said, puzzled. Obviously, Twilight had no idea where he was going with this judging by the confused look on her face.
"Say she did all that, and I asked to leave once I got to my eighteenth year. Do ya think she would let me go?" Orion pleaded in his head that she understood what he was driving at.
"Um…she would likely try and stop you. Offer you a reason to stay." He laughed, and she blushed angrily.
"Twilight, do you know why enchanting is so valuable? Why Celestia has put out a two million bit reward for anyone related to the repair of her gate?" She shook her head as best she could, considering his hold on her. "It's because enchanting can make greater use of spells on the same medium, unlike crystal magic and the like. Weapons of destruction. Vessels that can fly higher and farther without the need to fuel up. He or she who controls the high ground rules the battlefield and all that."
"But the Princess would never want that!" She practically wailed that bit. He had to wonder if she was serious. A look at her determined face said she was. He tried to explain.
"You do realize that not everyone likes this country, right? The Zebrican tribes have been waging a guerilla campaign against our colonies for decades now. So far, there has been no way to track them successfully. Airships are so costly to keep functioning that if knocked from the sky, the loss wouldn't be felt in just lives lost. That would be a financial hit the nation would have to absorb that would end up driving taxes up just to compensate. Only a few outside of the military have civilian-controlled airships, and even then, the Throne heavily regulates those. An enchanter could help manufacture a fleet that not only could take those hits, but fly higher than an airship in current service."
"But the Zerbricans shouldn't be hurting our colonists. They should be friends!" Out of all that, she locked onto the fact that the zebra people were hurting, even killing those who would try and live on their land without permission. Not the oh so great danger his ability presented.
"We are colonizing without their permission. They told us no when we asked years ago. Celestia is doing it anyway." He silenced her with his fingers before she could object. "That doesn't matter at the moment. What does is I represent a potential danger to her and her rule. If I manage to leave, someone else could pick me up and use me against Equestria. Do you really think she would let me go then?"
He pulled his hand back and watched as her face contorted in thought and then realization.
"No…" She whispered quietly.
"Exactly. I don't want ANYONE finding out about this. Especially her." He stated firmly.
"You…you want me to lie? To the Princess?" She asked incredulously. She was pushing against his bonds now, and she showed no difficulty in the effort as he strained to keep them in place. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead.
"I'd prefer it to be an omission. Just don't mention this at all, please?" He was desperate, he would not be able to get away, and his life was in her hands now.
Then a thought struck him. One he had tried not to dwell on when he had discovered it at the city's library.
"There's another thing. I did some research, and what I found made me very uncomfortable. Anytime someone came out, claiming they were capable of enchanting, they either disappeared or were found dead."
It was a disturbing trend, and not just isolated to ponies either. Griffons, minotaurs, and even a diamond dog at one point, all vanished or died under mysterious circumstances. Their homes and workplaces were ransacked the very same night of the incidents that claimed them with no ryhme or reason.
Someone was out there, either killing or kidnapping people, and he did not want that to happen to him.
"So, it is not just the Princess you worry about…." She murmured to herself. Her eyes drifted to his, and she finally pushed her magic through his like paper. "You have gotten a lot stronger." She smiled as if she didn't just make a joke of his efforts.
Neither said a word as she walked around his little shop, looking at the various diagrams he had tacked to the wall. His hand ached with the grip he held on the knife. "Stab her in the shoulder. A shallow cut is all that will be needed. By the time she recovers, I can be halfway down the mounta-"
"Alright. I will keep quiet about this." That statement derailed his entire train of thought, and he jerked as if struck.
"Wha-?"
She giggled at him. "I promise, I will not tell Princess Celestia, or anypony else, till you are ready."
"Till I'm ready? What on earth makes you think I ever want anyone to know about this?!" He was incredulous. She was taking this a lot more in stride than he ever thought possible. Almost as if it didn't matter to her. What was going on?
"Orion, one of the lessons the Princess has taught me is that you cannot always force a pony to do what you know is right. They won't see it till much later, and they won't appreciate the fact that you pressured them into it." He just stared at her. It was a good lesson, but now he had the Sword of Damocles over his head. Eventually, she would tell. That would not do.
"Twilight." He stated firmly, shifting his weight on the stool to keep the knife out of her view as she continued to look at all the half-completed ideas. He did not like how she took a serious interest in the almost finished Celestia Lie Detector Five-Thousand. "The only way I want anyone to know is if I find out who is killing or making people go poof. Because I will have a target on my back the moment that I come out as an enchanter." Did she have to stare at it so hard? "I have a feeling that the Princess won't be able to protect me then."
That got her attention. She whipped about fear on her face.
"Of course, the Princess can protect you! Why would you even think that!?"
"Because she's not omnipresent! She can never be everywhere at once."
She paused at that, the confident demeanor all but gone, and she bit her thumb as she thought furiously.
"You are correct." She said finally, and he held his breath. "If….if I were to help you, uncover who it is that is hunting supposed enchanters…will you tell her then?" His first instinct was to say yes. He was desperate to keep his secrets hidden. But knowing her, she would have this mystery solved within a year, and he was not yet finished learning.
"No." She frowned and opened her mouth, but he spoke over her. "No, Twilight, and if our friendship means ANYTHING to you, you will keep it a secret because you would hurt me in the telling."
She recoiled, and he felt guilty threatening their relationship like that, but not remorseful. This was his life, and he wasn't about to jeopardize it because of her. However, he didn't have to go that far. Or so he hoped. An apology she doesn’t really deserve would hopefully place her in a better state of mind.
"I'm sorry. That was unfair of me. But this is important. More important than anything else right now. This is my life, and I won't be able to live it how I want if everyone out there knows what I can do."
Twilight sighed heavily, yet she nodded, and his hopes rose with it.
"You…are right. I will keep quiet. As wrong as I think it might be. I know what is going to happen once you do come out." She looked at him, and he was surprised to see a touch of bitterness in her eyes.
"Since I became the Princess's student, my family has constantly been approached by influential ponies, from nobility to business. They all had innocent requests to have my parents ask me to ask my Teacher. Those requests seemed so benign at first." She rose and began pacing the small space as she continued. "She knew right away what was happening. While she did put a stop to much of it, I still get letters. The few friends I started to make turned out to be just using me on behalf of their parents. When I refused even them I…I was left alone."
He slumped in his seat. He had gotten her promise. But now he knew why it was so hard for her to make friends. Twilight Sparkle, was as distrustful of others as he himself was. Those she thought were her confidante abandoned her when they realized they would not get anything out of their one-sided relationship. That was why she had remained quiet when Buttercup Spray and her friends approached him on that first day. They had likely once been her faux friends.
The dominos had finally fallen into place.
Placing the knife on the table, he got up and hugged her.
"If you were so distrustful of people. Why did you decide to become friends with me? I'm an asshole." His shirt muffled her sudden laugh that she buried her face into. He was really getting tall.
"Because you didn't want anything from me. If anything, you tried your hardest to push me away. Tried to get me to leave you alone." He grunted in surprise. He hadn't realized she had known he was trying to get rid of her. "You are genuine. You don't hide how you feel, and I…I want to be a part of that."
That was it. It was a little overwhelming to learn of her past experiences this way. Knowing that she had never met a genuine person before him, it also left another mark on his soul for the lies he had embraced to hide what he was. Her sudden elevation in position had been so abrupt for the purple filly, that the cruel lessons of the influential had been jarring enough to put her into a shell. When he had cracked that shell, Celestia had taken notice.
Twilight shook in his arms. Muffled sobs reverberated in his chest. He hugged her tighter. She didn't want the life of an aloof noblemare. She wanted friends and had been smacked hard with the reality that there were far too many that would like to use her and her position.
As he held her, he idly thought she should meet AJ and Rarity down in Ponyville. He was sure they would get along just fine.
—---
After some time and a whole lot of nose-blowing, Twilight settled down to a more manageable ball of spastic. They sat on a pair of stools and regarded one another.
"That is a very nice shirt, by the way. Where did you purchase it?"
He touched the forest green shirt, now adorned with her dried snot and tears.
"This is from a friend down in Ponyville. She's a pretty good tailor. Had this and a bunch of others whipped up before I left."
"She?" He missed the dangerous subtext of the tone she spoke in.
"Yep. I met her when I was down there for my community service. Her and another. Applejack. Everyone calls her AJ, though. They're a bit older than both of us, I think."
"AJ…" He didn't miss it that time. But then a thought occurred to him as a scent entered his nose. An odor he had been smelling but had been too distracted to notice.
"Twilight…why did you visit me now, at this hour?"
"I told you. I was bored." She responded, heat in her voice as she slid off her stool. Orion's eyes widened in panic.
"OH SHIT!" It was Estrus season, and Twilight was a seventeen-year-old mare.
"Purple, you're never bored. You have books!" He said nervously as he practically fell out of his own seat in his efforts to backpedal from her.
"Hmmm." She mused as she tapped her chin. He hadn't noticed till then, but there was a flush to her face. It tinted her ears almost the same color as her fur. Her eyes heavy lidded. "I do, but I couldn't focus on them for some reason. I kept thinking...of you."
When had she backed him into the wall!?
"Twilight, I think you need to leave, now," Orion said quietly, fear causing his voice to shake. This was not how he wanted to lose his V-card a second time. He had heard that some mares lose their wits during estrus. Their body's instincts taking over and making them find something to satisfy that itch became the only thing they would wake up for.
It wasn't like that always, but every year there would be mares who couldn't control themselves.
The season itself, only lasted about three weeks, four for some. But a month was still allotted automatically to give mares a chance to make plans to either get with their partner or isolate themselves till it was over.
It must have hit his friend early with a sledgehammer.
"But we are having such a great time together." She murmured, voice low and husky. Now she was straddling his knee. He could feel heat practically searing his flesh. She had it BAD.
"It isn't any longer! Twilight!" He shrieked! "YOU'RE IN HEAT!"
The filly blinked in confusion at him for a couple of seconds, lips inches away from his own. Owl-like eyes replaced the sultry ones mere seconds ago.
"Oh….OH NO!" She looked at their situation and backed off babbling. "Orion, I'm…I'm so sorry! I did not mean to…I would never…I…..I…."
In a flash of purple light and the pop of a firecracker, she was gone. Her scent began to dissipate as the ventilation now had a chance to purify the room.
Orion slumped to the floor, eyes bulging.
"That….was almost a disaster." Running a trembling hand through his mane, he looked down between his legs and groaned. He had popped wood, judging by the obscene lump now fighting with the cloth of his black pants. Clearly, he had not been unaffected.
He looked up to the knife on the table, now cursing himself for not holding onto it. He would have never taken her down without it had she not seen reason at the last moment.
Just a week ago, she had performed over two hundred consecutive spells in the span of a few minutes for a demonstration. Trottingham Preparatory had come to visit, and the Canterlot school had wanted to put their best hoof forward. The display was terrifying. Worst yet, she hadn’t even looked a little winded from the exercise.
This whole situation thoroughly and utterly destroyed any desire for creativity.
He adjusted his pants the best he could and sighed. He'd have to take care of this. That scent of hers was stuck in his nose.
As he climbed the ladder toward the ponyhole cover above, his mind tossed up a stray thought.
"Was her tits always that big?"
He would have slammed his head against a can if it didn't give away his position in the narrow alley across from a closed baker’s shop.
It was the tail end of the season, and for some reason, he thought he could get to the post box and back again before any mare dealing with the lingering effects could notice. The mailbox was only a street away, after all.
That little jaunt should have been made through the sewers.
He had slid yet another polite rejection letter to visit Griffonia into the box. Screaming had become increasingly insistent about him going up to the rather mountainous region that was her home. Turning around, he had come face to face with a pair of blue ear tufts, a horn poking up between them. The street had been barren not too long ago. Looking down, he noticed a pink-maned mare he would say was just entering her thirties.
She was jittery, her eyes darting to him than around them. Was she going to ask him for some RedBalls?
"H….hey there…little colt." Alarms gongs rang in his head. Only a couple of types of people used that kind of phrase. Doctors trying to give a child a shot, and Catholic priests. "W..what are you doing…" she swallowed nervously, "out at this time of green?"
"Dear God, she's lost it!"
"Maybe he was lookin' for a lesson of what grown ponies do during this time of year?" The whispered words tickled his ear, making him scream and jump away.
An all champagne-colored mare had snuck up on him while he was distracted with the first one.
"Uhhh…" what was he to say?
"You are certainly tall." She chuckled richly, and her yellow eyes drifted to his legs. "Those….look really strong…."
Her tone and her gaze said it all. She did not give a rat's ass about any consequences.
As he continued to backpedal, he ran into something, and a shadow fell over his face.
He had backed into a very large mulberry mare, now staring down at him, licking her lips hungrily.
"Now…ladies…" He spoke jerkily, altering course and backing away from the three unicorn mares that were looking to circle him like sharks. "I'm….not certain I'm ready for that kinda education just yet." No response as they turned to follow him. "Please think about this. This is rape…under the law. And I'm a minor!"
"Best to train them young…" giggled the blue one.
"And I don't believe it's rape if it's under the pure purpose of…education." Responded the yellow-eyed mare.
The third just drooled.
That was enough for him, and he promptly hoofed it out of there. All three were hot on his heels as he tossed trash cans in their way in his passing.
Now he was four streets away from home. The trio had somehow managed to push him further and further from the orphanage.
"How am I gonna get out of this?"
How many years had it been since she had flown?
Not just the little quick drops and ascends between floors in the open portions of her palace. But beating her wings against the air for true sustained flight?
With Estrus coming to an end, she had already caught up on the paperwork that had cluttered her desk since the beginning of the year. That mountain of files and ledgers had been daunting.
Once she conquered the ever-present foe known as paperwork, Celestia had headed to her personal dining hall earlier in the day for a mid-morning snack, when a stray primary had knocked against a vase, nearly sending it to a broken end.
Catching the valuable urn in her magic, she regarded her wing in irritation. She was annoyed that she missed the feather during her morning's preening. Gently pulling it free, she levitated it to a disposal can and dropped it in.
As she watched it fall, noting its twists and turns, it was then that a feeling stirred within her. It was like the feather was trying to fly, and a thought rose in her mind.
When was the last time that she flew herself?
Now her broad, large white wings beat the air powerfully. The intense rush of wind she felt tugging at her clothes and mane was exhilarating. She had missed this.
This was just what she needed. A break from the mundane. From the shackles of her duties.
The creak of cloth and the clang of metal echoed about her, and she barely suppressed a sigh.
Of course, she wouldn't be able to just fly alone, but she would not complain. Celestia had managed to talk the young Corporal in charge of her current detail, Gypsy Glow, into only three to accompany her for her afternoon flight.
Still, she did wish they would give her a little more space. As it was, she could almost touch them with every flap.
Yet, she flew on, thinking she should make this a regular activity for herself. That was till one of her shadows in the sky interrupted her thoughts.
"Princess, there seems to be some type of trouble in the streets below." One of them said suddenly, breaking her from her reverie.
She glanced at the mare with a frown, before following her gaze down to an entrance to what appeared to be a dead-end alleyway.
"What is going on down there?"
Three ponies had another cornered at the mouth. That pony looked familiar to her.
"It couldn’t be...surely he wouldn't be so foolish…."
"Princess?" The mare spoke again. Soft Feather was her name unless she missed her guess, she had drifted in close to get her orders.
"....Form a holding pattern above. I wish to deal with this." With the freedom of flight, she was starting to feel like her old self again. The chance to be more hands-on in her rule did not come up often, and she was going to relish this.
None of her guards objected. Despite the insistence of generals and secretaries, the rank and file still knew they were there as more protection for whoever thought to strike at her than any real defense for the monarch herself. At least most of them did.
Just as she began her descent, the purple mare teleported behind who she was increasingly sure was Orion Falls.
It happened so fast that an average pony would not have been able to see clearly what had occurred.
The moment the mare had vanished, his horn ignited in a torch of black and gold. It was like a pulse that only she could see emanated from his body, and he seemed to swell. In a burst of speed, he dodged her attempt at a tackle, bounced off the wall, and brought his right fist across her face, sending the mare careening into the street.
"I have had enough from you!" He roared. Then turned to face the other two in an aggressive stance. "You want a piece of this whorse cock, then fine! Come and get it! I'm done playing with you!" She was now positive who the pony was that was foolish enough to come out this time of year. Or have such a vulgar expression cast from their lips.
She better put a stop to this and fast.
"What was that spell?" She wondered as she dove in.
His hand throbbed from punching that mulberry bitch.
She certainly knew how to cut off avenues of escape for someone who had lost the ability to speak. It had been her who had managed to corner his ass in this dead-end alley.
"Fucking whore."
The other two, whether from his sudden violence or his rather menacing pronouncement, were now hesitant to continue the chase. The sudden evidence of seriously getting hurt must finally begun registering in their lust-addled minds.
In truth, he had been trying his damndest not to hit any of them. It was biology he was at war with, not them. They must have been going crazy this year.
Suddenly, a very white object slammed between him and the remaining two assailants, stirring up dust clouds and cracking cobblestone. Broad wings nearly blocked his view entirely for a few seconds. Where they connected, just above the center of the back, muscles flexed powerfully as they retracted.
His initial assessment had been correct when he had first met her. Celestia may have looked soft to the casual observer, but as he watched her hands form into fists, her biceps and forearms bulged menacingly, he knew that this mare could wreck house should she want.
"Why is it…” she said with a menacing pause. “…that on one of the few days I have to rest, I find three grown mares harassing a colt on the street?" Her cold tone seemed especially dangerous as she loomed over the pair.
Orion couldn't see it, but he did not doubt the withering stare he had received not too long ago was the reason the last two just wilted like sunburned plants.
They gave no answer as the sudden appearance of royal guards swooped in to restrain them. A third broke off and checked on the bitch he had flattened into the trash.
"She is alive, my Princess." His head spun. He hadn't even considered he might have killed her. A chill swept over him.
"Just as well, I would request that you take her to General. Once she is revived, escort her to holding. I want to know what happened here and why it is a colt cannot walk the streets safely no matter the year." Celestia's gaze swung to him and did not ease even a little. "And you shall come with me and explain why you believed it a good idea to be out during this time of day, unescorted."
"But I thought you said I should be safe on the streets." A deepening frown and a raised eyebrow made him realize she wasn't going to tolerate his usual bouts of indifference. "Princess." He added much to belatedly he realized.
Nodding, she responded. "I did, and you should. With a reasonable escort. Now. Come."
"Ooooohhhh, she pissed, pissed today."
With no choice but to follow after her, he stuck his hands in his pockets and tried his best not to stare at her ass as they made their way to the sudden appearance of a royal carriage. Togas certainly looked appealing on her.
Orion wanted to break that fucking clock. The insistent tick-tock made the already awkward situation worse.
After getting into the carriage Celestia had called, he had done his best not to follow suit with the mares that had pursued him for the better part of an hour.
Neither one had said a thing the entire journey to the castle. Or up the opulent staircases and down the halls. Entering into the same sitting room that she seemed to have reserved just for him, they just sat. Him, feeling even dumber than before as he, staring at the floor, wishing to become part of the stitching there. She glaring at him like she wanted to choke him.
Just thinking of how those fists clenched was enough to make him shudder.
Maybe a compliment would break the ice?
"You know, that dr-"
"What the buck were you thinking?!" She interrupted with a shriek. She had been waiting for him to speak, but hearing her curse for the first time was a shock to the system his brain was unprepared for. It sounded…wrong.
"I…uh…uhhh haha?" Lizard brain was not helping, choosing to churn out slurry word vomit instead.
"This is not funny, Orion. You could have been seriously hurt. They could have done things to you that might scar you for life. What on Equis were you thinking, being out and about during a time like this?"
"I was sending a letter?" The truth tumbled off his lips before his brain had finally rebooted and made it a question at the same time.
"A letter." She deadpanned at him.
"Uh yeah, actually. I was sending a letter." Her continued stare made him want to explain himself further before he risked another nuclear fission incident. "Okay, listen, I was just sending a reply to Screaming Rush up in Griffonia." She nodded, prompting him to speak further. "The mailbox was just a block away, and I figured a quick trip there and back would have been simple and quick."
"Then you ran into trouble." She finally said.
"Yes, honestly, I should have just beat the hell out of them and went home. But I was being nice. Or at least trying." Her raised eyebrow made him flush. "What?"
"You are making claims that you could have taken them in hand. Orion, I find that a little hard to swallow." Celestia smirked.
He laughed. "Who killed a Timberwolf?" That got a thoughtful nod and then a snort. The mare was not amused.
"Regardless, this is a time of year when a colt, or even a stallion, should not go out unattended."
"Next, you'll be telling me to wear a full cowl to hide all but my eyes." He muttered sourly.
"Nonsense. That would get far too warm for a pony." Her frown finally relented. "Orion, estrus can be a terrible time for mares, do you understand?"
"I do. It's a problem with biology." He responded immediately, and she smiled. "But you can't tell me that they shouldn't have some kind of self-control. That out there was ridiculous, and you know it."
"It was. I do agree. But it seems every year there are cases where mares succumb to their baser needs." She sighed heavily. "The common denominator in all of them is the fact that they all have not been with a stallion or gotten any relief in years. It is simply a build-up effect of seasons with no end in sight."
"Then why don't they just do what you do?" He leaned back and smiled at the surprised look on her face.
"I am sorry, but what are you implying?"
"Let me answer with a question of my own. Are Alicorns above the symptoms of the season? Do they not have those issues?"
"No, we do…." He grinned. "I see. Clever."
"Not so hard to figure out when you strut about as if it's a typical Thursday. My real question is, why not share that particular spell, or potion, with the masses?"
—------
Not for the first time, she had been stunned by his intellect and ability to see what others did not.
What's more, he understood there was a reason that he did not see, but knew she had for keeping "Gadfly Supprimere" out of the hands of the common pony.
The spell suppressed the natural cycle of a mare with no ill consequences. Unfortunately, a good majority of mares in the past abused the magic, which caused a decline in the population of Maradon. A failed city-state that she once presided over. She had taken that lesson to heart.
Celestia had no idea on how to respond. Orion being as intuitive as he was, she held no doubts that he would know if she lied to him. But what would he do with the truth?
The fact that she found herself wanting to be honest with him was another issue. Why was it so easy to be open with him? This colt of fifteen springs was beyond the average world-wise pony.
"I will have to answer delicately." She finally decided.
"Unfortunately, it is not so simple a solution. There are a number of factors that prevent the broad application of contraceptives." Celestia spoke slowly.
Orion's brow furrowed.
"Like what?"
"You are not making this easy for me, colt." He grimaced in response.
"Okay. Let me make some guesses then.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Okay, I'd imagine this, whatever it is, is rather effective. Yeah?" She nodded. "And the way some mares bitch and moan over the early spring, I'd say they would likely use it religiously rather than have to go through that kind of suffering." It wasn't a question, but still, the monarch nodded. "Which means fewer foals would be born the next year…."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. It was a leap of logic for a pony not in the know, no matter how small, and once more she found herself impressed. He was absolutely correct in his assessment of her issue with that particular spell being public knowledge.
"Is there a weaker version?" Celestia blinked.
"A weaker version?" She found herself parroting.
"I'll take that as a no. But why not?"
She was stumped. Magical Theory had never been her strong suit. That had always been her sister's talent as she had developed a more political skill set over the millennias. The thought had never even popped up into her mind, only more issues to deal with. More problems that needed her attention.
"I shall be honest, Orion, I have never put thought into that." He just shook his head in exasperation.
"And because no one else knew you had an out, they never sought to question. You never told anyone. It's a spell, isn't it?"
"...yes. It is."
"And you've known about it for so many years you've kinda put it to the back of the mind, only pulling it out during this time of year. Never to think of it otherwise." Where was he going with this?
Rubbing his hands across his face, he sighed.
"I'm gonna level with ya. That shit was terrifying. Being out there with those psychos horning after my dick." Her muzzle wrinkled at his less than savory choice in expression. "I got an idea. Do you have any researchers you can trust?"
"I do. What is this idea of yours?" Celestia found herself smiling at him. She believed she knew what he was planning to suggest now. In truth, she should have made the considerations herself, if she had thought of it.
"Why not show them the spell and have them research a version that would still leave a mare in need, but leave the effects more manageable." Spreading his hands, he leaned back.
"Hmmm." She mused, a finger tapping at her chin. "What would be the ultimate point, though?"
He leaned forward again, he had the bit in his mouth now. "That's easy. First and foremost, you wouldn't have what happened today going on. Secondly, your soldiers would not have to struggle through the effects as hard while on duty. Finally, day-to-day life wouldn't have to come to a stop for a month. Folks can still go about their lives while still allowing those who wish to procreate to do so."
The white monarch changed her mind. She no longer wanted him in the military. With an intelligence such as his, he would be more at home in bureaucracy. A thinking stallion that could solve problems without running to her for the answers all the time. Or better yet, reminding her of simple issues, such as pets.
"I will…take that under advisement, Mr. Falls." She smiled warmly.
A problem Celestia had found during her time ruling is that no pony wanted to make a decision without her input. Every step, it was a must for her to be consulted on for things that she had seen the common village ponies more than capable of solving. Orion's higher education would be spent learning the finer points of political office.
As she mused, a sudden thought occurred to her. The colt across from her eyes widened at the smile that grew into a grin.
"On a not-so-unrelated note. Orion," he visibly winced, "a few weeks ago, I found Twilight barricaded in her room. You would not happen to know as to the why that is…would you?"
"Ahhh, nope. No, I would not." He said far too quickly.
"Oh, this is delightful. He still has a side to embarrass." She chuckled.
"Truly? I only ask because I could not help hearing her cry out your name. She sounded like she may have been apologizing." With that, the black pony groaned audibly and slumped in his chair.
"She…she came to-”
The door to her receiving room burst open with a thud, and the current subject of their conversation rushed into the room with the grace of a foal learning to walk.
"OH, PRINCESS !" Her student wailed, causing the colt across from her ears to lay back as he sank into the cushions in shock.
"Yes, Twilight?" She fought to keep a straight face. This was entirely ridiculous. What were the odds that her protege would come storming in right at that time? The Tree was messing with her surely.
"I…I did something terrible!" She snuffled grotesquely and continued on before Celestia could ask. "A..a… a few weeks ago, I went to Orion's. I was…I couldn't…."
"By the Tree, out with it, foal." It was not unusual for her student to become fixated on something that bothered her. She had once become so inconsolable when she had tried to save a dove that she spent two weeks sequestered inside her room, barely eating and drinking.
Unfortunately, the poor thing hit a crosswind that drove it into a window. It was a particularly hard hit that broke many of the bones within its body.
Twilight had secretly attempted to save the creature, but the filly's limited understanding of biology and healing magic at the time only prolonged its suffering.
Celestia had held a small funeral for the dove to help ease the pain of failure for her student. It still had taken months before she had fully gotten over the event.
The upside was that her little protégé had devoted months of study and practice to healing injuries.
Now, Twilight was in her receiving room, rapidly explaining how she had visited the colt before her in the middle of the night because she could not focus on anything but him.
Celestia supposed that it could not be helped, and this situation was not entirely her fault. Or his. Perhaps she should not have shielded her from the effects of Estrus for so long. It had been the desire that her student needed to grow that she had first cast the spell on the filly when she first began to blossom.
Choosing to forgo that measure this year may have been a mistake. Or perhaps it was a folly to have done it to begin with as it left her ill equiped to handle the season with any competence.
Still, it was humorous, which was why she was struggling to maintain her dignity in the onslaught of Twilight's confession.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Orion's face went from shock to one of blushing horror.
"Did…did they actually…." Her fears were allayed when the purple filly had gotten to the part of him chasing her out of his room. "Smart, colt, very smart." She had to admit, Celestia had not expected Orion to have the presence of mind to think much beyond how pretty Twilight was. One stallion had told her from ages passed that it was akin to being smacked in the face with a blunted mace. One did not possess the faculties for rational thought at that point.
"P-princess?" The quiet, demure voice of her student broke her away from her thoughts. She had been looking full on at the colt by this point, and in return, he had sunk further into his seat.
"I'm sorry, Twilight, but that was a little bit much." She gave a soft smile to ease her words. "While I am happy that you have come to me with this confession, you could have picked a more appropriate time for this."
Twilight's hands dropped to her side as she blushed in shame. She had made a mess of her face with the tear tracks, and mucus stuck to her nose.
The young mare had really been worked up over this.
Her student began to avert her eyes in shame and then stopped with a start. Her eyes locked onto Orion's own.
"Or-Orion? W…what are you doing here?"
Rather than answer for him, Celestia placed her hands in her lap, fingers laced. She wondered how he would respond.
The Alicorn monarch would regret that.
His glance snapped from her student to her for only, but a moment; an evil gleam twinkled in his eyes, and his muscles worked hard to keep the expression of terror on his face. "What are you planning, Orion?"
"OH, THANK GOD, TWILIGHT!" He threw himself behind her, feigning fear.
"C-c-came in time for what?" Her prized student's voice stuttered out.
"The…the Princess…she…oh God…she was….SHE WAS ABOUT TO HAVE HER WAY WITH ME!" He shouted in complete mimicry of Twilight's earlier outburst.
"WHAT?!" Twilight bleated.
"WHAT?!" Celestia parroted within her own mind as she leaned forward in shock, hands gripping the chair arms tightly.
"IT'S TRUE!" He declared loudly once more, huddling behind the purple filly even further.
"Orion." Her student firmly said, turning around to look at him, her magic flashing to remove the disheveled appearance that she had just been. A stern, if concerned, glare on her face. "She is the Princess. Why would she ever do that? She would NEVER do that."
Celestia allowed herself a small smile of pride. Her student knew her better than most, and the filly's ready defense of her was greatly appreciated. "The nerve to even imply…."
"Really?" Twilight nodded confidently. "Then tell me, oh confident one, where are the guards?"
"There…." The purple pony's brow furrowed in thought.
The monarch's own raced along similar paths. "How does he know there is no pony out there?" She had sent her guards away the moment she had gotten into the castle, mainly as a preventative measure as some of the castle's staff were still suffering the effects of the season.
It's why she had prepared her own tea and used capesso to bring it to the room.
This must have been a guess, a truly remarkable and well thought out one, but merely just that.
"Well? Were there guards standing by the door before you barged in here?" He pressed. The demure attitude didn't last long as he was already standing at an impressive height over her student as the filly slowly came to the realization that there was not.
"No…"
"That's because she sent them all away, right after kidnapping my ass off the streets. I was just trying to send a fucking letter!" He exclaimed, reclaiming his act once more.
"Oh, Twilight, do not fall for this charlatan's lies." She had no idea what he was planning, but this was beginning to get out of hand. She needed to stop this before it got worse and quickly.
"My student, there were guards-
"Really?! What were you doing out on the street then?! What season is it?!" Orion interrupted, a grin threatening to crack that scared mask.
Celestia had missed the moment her student had turned to look at her. Absolute horror now visible as she had followed the path of cake crumbs filled with lies.
She tried again to refute the blatant lies and misleading half-truths, but just then, the teapot lurched from the table beside her, splashing tea everywhere.
"We have to run!" The colt cried in mock terror, now grinning at her bewildered face. Twilight had not seen the look of triumph, for if she had, she would have known his tales for the falsity that they genuinely were.
Instead, her horn charged with a tell-tale teleportation circle, not even inverted, and screamed.
"PRINCESS! HOW COULD YOU!?"
The glow of her spell enveloped both of the foals in a bright purple flash, followed by the pop of air being displaced. They left behind a very bewildered Princess Celestia. Tea on her dress, the carpets below a mess.
"Well, there goes that rug from Prince Shining Spark." It was a shame, too, she had liked the prince's easy-going manner, and he had been quite charming with his gifts. The Saddle Arabian rug from his homeland having been one of them. It was ancient, as his bones must now be by now.
Giggles broke through her lips before she realized it. Full-blown laughter soon followed as she summoned some cleaning supplies from a nearby maid's closet.
She could have just sent everything to the heap if she had wanted, but Celestia felt that this was a just punishment for her curiosity about what Orion had planned to do. Magic may just ruin the threads entirely.
It was an excellent charade he had thrown together. His quick wit indicated once again reminded her of his talent to think on his hooves. A grin split her face. She was finding a lot to praise him for, even if he had a few detractors.
Still, that sharp mind had helped him avoid what could have been a terrible incident judging by Twilight's confession.
Picking up the silvered tray, suppressed chuckles erupted once more, events from before her students' sudden departure replaying in her mind.
"So absurd."
"Why is he laughing? This is serious!" She still couldn't believe it, yet the pieces fit.
Her Mentor had tried to have her way with a pony. A colt! Her friend, no less!
She wasn't one for gossip. In fact, she largely ignored the goings-on in her teacher's court. But rumors often made their way into the tightest of locks. Rumors of noblemares having illicit dealings. Of stallions of high status indulging in the obscene. To think Princess Celestia might be a part of that!
She couldn't believe it, not entirely at least. But she had decided to put some distance between Orion and her so that she could get to the bottom of it. Though, maybe she shouldn't have yelled at her mentor like that.
Twilight hadn't realized that she had gone on instinct in the teleportation. Instead of going to a place like her family's home, she had instead gone with the familiar by rote. Now they sat on the carpet of her private study. The place was a mess with books and sheets of paper scattered throughout the private chamber.
Her embarrassment was, fortunately, mitigated by the fact that her friend was still find it difficult to breathe.
"Orion?! Why are you laughing?! This is serious!" Gasping for breath, the colt remained on the floor, clutching at his sides. The insides of his ears were beginning to take on a blue hue. "The Princess was about to have her way with you!" She hissed in exasperation. "So why are you laughing?!"
"Because…hehe." He struggled to get to his knees. "Oh God….that was too perfect….the timing! Oh...Jesus Christ!"
Stomping her foot in frustration, she picked him up in her magic and brought the wheezing pony eye level with her.
"Why are you not more worried?" She spoke firmly and with authority. Just as she had seen the Princess do a hundred times.
"Because…I,” he wheezed, “I...LIED!!!!" He shrieked in hilarity.
Twilight dropped him with growing alarm and widening eyes.
"I yelled at the Princess. I yelled at her, and he had lied and convinced me she had been about to do something…I yelled at the… I YELLED AT THE PRINCESS!"
Orion, her friend, possibly the only true friend she had, was struggling to get to his hooves as laughter wracked his body.
"Did…did you…..hehe he did you see her face?!" He cackled. "She was all like: "nuh uh"!" He grabbed his sides. "Oh ow…and you were all like…heeeee: "How could you, my Princess"!" Tears were rolling down his eyes.
"Y….y-you lied to me? Why?!"
Using one of her chairs, he managed to stand.
"You have…hehe…to understand, Twilight." He cleared his throat and looked like he was trying to form a solemn expression. It was ruined by the way his lips kept quivering into a smile. "Your not-Mom….heee, ahem. Was just getting started with the grilling she had planned. Any moment and she'd likely be asking for a stool sample." He kept chuckling.
Her best friend had used her. She had yelled at her teacher over a lie. And all he had to offer, were more jokes.
" I YELLED AT THE PRINCESS!"
Orion looked up from adjusting his clothes, concern on his face.
"Twilly? Ya a-"
She screamed.
Water flooded his nose and mouth as he struggled to the surface. He had not expected her to do that. The question was, how had she done that?
As his head broke the surface, he gasped, taking in lungfuls of air at the same time coughing up what he had nearly inhaled. Struggling to stay afloat, he looked about to see where she had sent him.
Off to his left was a gazebo on a lone island connected by a bridge to the shore, a group of ponies all staring at him. They were way too far away to really pick up details, but he suspected they were likely gawking at him.
To his right, and a little ahead, was a trio of ponies. They were on a long canoe-like rowboat, all staring at him. He waved. One, a filly his age, waved back hesitantly.
Directly in front of him was the lakeshore itself, a mere hundred or so meters away. With an internal groan, Orion realized he would have to swim the entire distance himself as the two mares, and one filly in the boat had made no move to help him.
Considering what he had gotten into the day, he suspected that might be a good thing. They might…expect things from him.
It was not the graceful strokes of an Olympic gold medalist. Instead, it was the strokes of someone stricken with cerebral palsy that barely kept his head above water as he floundered and chugged half the lake at an agonizing pace to the soggy sand.
By the time he dragged his carcass from the water to flop onto the carefully maintained beach, he was winded beyond just nearly drowning.
"Learn…to swim…with hooves." Even his thoughts were wheezing. "Man…I miss having feet."
After more time than he cared to admit, he sat up and looked around.
Twilight had sent him all the way back to the second plate. Canterlot Glistening Lake, while it did not really live up to the name, was still the best park he had ever been to.
With realization, he knew she had used auferte on him. Just like he had done with the Apple’s dog, Winona. Still, to put him out here took far more strength than he could ever imagine.
Located in the wealthier quarter of the city, it had a spectacular view of the valley below and the forest beyond that.
The sheer amount of power needed for someone to teleport from one location to another on the same street was taxing. For the purple filly to send him so far in a fit of rage was not only impressive, it was terrifying.
"Did her mane actually light on fire?" It had been one of the little details that had stuck with him. That and her room, what little he could see of it.
Purple. “What is it with ponies and bold colors a gypsy wouldn't wear? Did Stone advise the filly on her color scheme?”
There was a fair amount of other colors, but it was altogether overpowered by that violet hue.
Typical girl's room.
Despite the dunking, he was grateful for the timing. Orion had been on edge the entire time Celestia had him cornered in her den of suffering. He hated that room.
Despite the word vomit, Twilight had carefully censored just what room she had popped into, and outright omitted what he had been up to. It had all been true, just heavily redacted. From what he could tell, the filly must have struggled with how she could confess to her terrible crime of trying to get a booty call. The way the overstuffed Marshmallow had acted, it seemed as if this took a long time in coming.
By whatever deity that rules this backward ass planet, Orion had managed to avoid, not only explaining what happened between them, but getting away from the royal pain in his ass entirely.
He should buy Twilight some ice cream.
And apologize for using her like that. That was beginning to become a bad habit.
Getting up, he dusted himself off. Wet sand had caked his clothes and had somehow gotten under them in places. That was going to itch until he got home to bath.
Turning around, he stopped, a small smile forming on his face.
When Twilight and he had been teleported out of the room, the filly had not inverted the spell. He had seen it all.
Teleportation was a lot of more complicated than he had first thought.
Back on earth, he had heard about ley lines but had never given it much thought otherwise. The girl who had been telling him of it had her shirt cut too low for him to focus on much of anything beyond how nice her tits looked.
Here in this world, they spread across the planet in a haphazard manner. There were the major ones, of course, known as Meadow Lines. They ran the globe in an almost perfect grid.
What made them random wasn't the large lines. It was the small ones called Glade Lines. They and the even tinier Gap Lines jut off from the main power source in random directions. Even off of each other.
The theory was that those points are where surges had happened in the distant past, and the result was leftover sources of power one could tap into at need. How and why? No one really knew. Research into the field had yet to provide anything concrete.
The reason Orion knew so much about it is because the thaumic field emanated from those lines. Enchanting tapped into that particular power field. He figured the closer you were to one of them; the more effective whatever you created would be.
A random Glade Line was running through the city of Canterlot after all, and he had wondered what would happen if he crafted equipment directly over one of the major streams of magical power.
Ley lines were also the reason why items created through Artification would eventually fall out of sync with the thaumic field. The different vibrations in each line of power were random, which meant when a device such as his Radar bead passed across several of the lines, it would lose connection from the constant realignment it had to do.
He blinked. "Is that why the Portal Gate in the Everfree is still working?" He hadn't really thought of that before. It made sense. It likely had remained in one location for centuries.
"Excuse me? Are you okay?" He nearly jumped out of his skin at the soft feminine voice at his elbow.
"Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me!" Hand to his heart, in a vain attempt to slow its beating, he turned to look at who had spoken.
It was the green-furred filly from the boat.
While he had been muttering to himself chasing after threads of thought, the filly and her mother, or mothers it seemed, had come ashore. The two mares, one a dark violet in a blue dress, the other green in a yellow pantsuit, had just finished pulling the boat onto the beach and were now walking hand in hand towards them.
He had missed a question.
"I'm sorry. What did you say?" He responded to a very annoyed, and not that he was paying attention, really short green pony in a blue flora dress.
"I asked, for the third time might I add, if you were okay?" She huffed.
"Yeah…sorry, I was just…trying to figure out how to teleport. Thoughts kinda ran away from me. Thanks for asking." He dusted the obscene amount of sand from his pants with very little effect. It was still soaked and clung to his legs unflatteringly.
"Judging from how you swam to shore, I was thinking you might be wondering if you were dead or not." She laughed.
That grated on his already frayed nerves and he snapped at her.
"First off, fuck you, not everyone can swim. Secondly, fuck you." She gaped at him. Her mothers stared at him in shock.
"Oh, don't act all surprised. I was drowning, and not a single one of you tried to help. You had a boat. I'm assuming you know how to paddle." He snorted derisively, forgetting in his sudden white-hot anger that he hadn't originally wanted their help. "What stopped you from at least offering?" The violet one's wings ruffled in agitation. "Hell, you could have flown over and plucked me from the water. Asking if I'm okay, then insulting me. Screw you."
"Jade, let us go. This ruffian is far too big for his ears." Huffed the green mare, as she grabbed her daughter's hand.
The filly, now known as Jade, was reluctantly pulled away, a frown on her face.
"Too big for my ears? Lady, I'll tie yours in a fuckin' knot!" He called out as they marched away onto a path leading to the city.
He was getting more stares.
"The hell are y'all lookin' at?!" He shouted at them.
Eyes averted quickly. Orion heard something along the lines of; "his father must be ashamed of himself," and other mutterings in kind.
He just stalked off—tail flicking in agitation. Everything that had happened to him that day just boiled out of him in a tidal wave of fury.
Stepping into an alleyway, he paused.
"The hell is wrong with you?!" He demanded of himself. The man turned colt had gone entirely too far with his reaction to the mild rudeness of that family, and he knew it.
His hands shook as he cupped his face in an attempt to calm his emotions. Orion had been on a roller coaster of ups and downs. Celestia's poking and prodding had not helped that, even if her breasts felt amazing to snuggle into.
With his breakdown in front of the monarch, he was at his wits end. All this trouble just trying to send a damn letter.
"I need a fuckin' vacation…" He muttered as he pushed from the alley wall and made his way home.
He groaned and thumped his head against a moss-covered stone wall in frustration.
"What in the fuck am I doing wrong?!"
For three days, Orion had tried and failed to make teleportation work for him. It wasn't so much that it wasn't working, but the fact that all his efforts at teleporting were only taking him fifteen feet.
The application behind the incantation wasn't a hard one to understand. It revolved around using ley lines to navigate as your spell used them like an automated GPS, or at least that's how he came to understand it. One needed to know where they were going and to keep one part of the spell open-ended in case there was a need for more power to reach their destination.
The reason for that extra power was not every place you wanted to land in had a line running through it, so one would have to make a temporary one of their own. When forming a teleportation point, you had to know where you were going, but more importantly, you had to know where the ley lines were around you at the start.
Essentially it was like hijacking an internet connection via Wi-Fi. The spell allowed someone to jump on and ride along till you got to your destination, carefully keeping the image of the location in mind and slowly feeding power once you reached a point one would have to abandon the line to get to their point of ingress.
The only reason any of this worked was that emanating from the magical lines that criss-cross the world was the Thaumic field.
The Thaumic field attached itself to everything. From trees to people, even the inanimate objects like rocks or dirt. It was why his Radar enchantment worked so well. It was also why Twilight had found him so easily that night in his "laboratory".
The principles of teleportation made sense, though he would never have been able to come up with it on his own. Orion knew he wasn't smart enough even to know where to begin to come up with that kind of theory to start. However, following in others’ hoofsteps had been easy, and he had figured out the idea behind it now.
But none of that knowledge helped him with his issue. The various advanced study books he had "borrowed" had been easily understood, and he had applied them correctly. Yet, he still failed. The distance he traveled seemed set, just like his range in magic. It shouldn't have been possible, considering he was just holding onto the spell. He should have just been able to ride the lines to his desired location.
"It must have something to do with the same issue as my range. But why? Why can I only influence a certain distance? I solved the strength issue. It should have solved the limited range problem as well."
Was he trying too hard?
Orion sighed. He was getting nowhere with this. Tired and angry, he stood, dusted the sewer dirt off of himself, and made for the all too familiar exit. As he did so, he thought of other options.
He couldn't ask Twilight. That last little prank he had pulled, convincing her that Celestia was going to fuck him silly, had really pissed her off. It was the middle of May now, and she had still not spoken to him. It didn't help that she was now in what was essentially the high-school portion of campus grounds. But the brief moments he spotted her when classes were let out were just that, brief.
She would teleport away the moment she spotted him coming, or climb into that personal coach of hers before he could say a word. The few letters he had sent had been either ignored or, in one case, returned.
To make matters worse, the students in his class knew what was up as well. The giggles from the fillies felt significantly cutting.
Fancy Pants, a colt he had only recently been idly talking to during lulls in instruction, had commiserated with him on the fickle nature of mares and then offered to take him out to a spa.
He politely declined.
Fancy was a weird one. The oddly two-toned blue-maned colt was shorter than him by a head and a half but could walk into a room and dominate it by sheer presence alone.
This had not always been the case when he had been first introduced late into the second year of Orion's time in school. The colt had just stood there, in front of the blackboard, stuttering his name and not meeting anyone's gaze with those light blue eyes of his.
His awkward habits continued for about a year. He would keep to himself, doing much the same as Orion himself would do, but without the sullen and often aggressive attitude, many had come to accept.
A sad air seemed to follow Fancy wherever he went.
That all changed, though the black-furred colt had been slow to realize it at first.
It had started with him and the noble pony being paired up for class assignments–just the usual subjects like science or magic—nothing out of the ordinary there.
Orion could not place when it first began. Just one day, while trying to figure out what an inverse pulse was supposed to accomplish, Fancy cursed in frustration. Ponyfeathers was not what he would consider actual cursing. But to hear that come from the mouth of the somewhat subdued noble colt had caused him to double over and roar with laughter.
When asked where that had come from, his classmate just responded in his prim and proper manner. "It felt suitable to the situation." It was too much for Orion, and the whole event left him with giggle fits any time he thought about it.
Since that day, a comfortable companionship had descended on the unlikely duo. It never extended outside the classroom, due to his own reluctance and in spite of the numerous invitations the proper pony had given him.
Orion paused, turning up the radar enchantment to do a cursory sweep of the alley above. There was someone up there.
Over the years, he had gotten used to the perspective and advantage the ornament sitting behind his right ear had given him. As his skill in Artification improved, so too did his iterations for the Radar enchantment. What had been an impression of things around him now was as clear to him as seeing it for himself. Though the color and certain textures still seemed beyond his ability to work into the enchantment currently, he could tell almost immediately who was who after an initial encounter by adjusting for magic signature.
The person above him now, he had never met before.
It was a male for one, tall, broad-shouldered, and a unicorn. "Is he a guard?" There was an awful lot of metal on the pony above, judging from the density he sensed.
The situation was weird. Not because there was a pony above him, that had happened more than a few times since he began coming down here. No, what bothered him was that it was some type of armored unicorn, and the fact that he was a male to boot made him wary. During his entire time spent in the city, he had only ever seen stallions in the military assigned to office duty. Why was this one out and about and hovering over his egress?
"Well, you had planned for this. For once." He thought to himself. He was certainly no Tony Stark when it came to learning lessons quickly, but even he eventually had a good idea.
When he had been still searching for a place to set up his workshop in the early days, he had decided to scout out multiple entry points into the sewer system, just in case.
The results of those searches had given him several access points where he could come and go at his discretion.
Orion moved away from his normal exit and made his way past the hidden chamber, carefully double-checking the enchantments to be sure the room entrance remained disguised as a simple wall. Nodding to himself that all was right, he made his way to the Artisan District and deeper into the sewer system.
Whatever was going on, he felt it best that he had an alibi, and that meant going to the old stomping ground he hadn't visited in months.
Once he had found the right spot, he performed another brief scan that showed the area clear above the ponyhole. Climbing out and carefully placing the lid back, he cautiously approached the end of the alley. From his vantage behind a stone corner, and with the help of his enchantment, he could see no one was really paying attention to anything other than their personal shopping.
Slipping into the crowd, he had to thank vapid consumerism and short attention spans. It was really nice when no one paid attention to you.
It took him twenty minutes and a tram ride from the Artisan District back to the residential area. Back to Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals.
It would have been shorter, but Orion chose to avoid Forager's shop. There was no telling whether or not Celestia still had the old bull under observation, and he had no desire to stumble into anything that might damn him even if he was only passing by.
Besides, he might have been too tempted to stop by and say hello.
Squeezed between two chatty stallions, the black colt puzzled over who the apparent guard had been hovering near his workshop's main entrance.
They had lingered far too long for his liking.
Stepping out of the station, he shot a quick glance toward his preferred alleyway and saw that no one was there. From where Orion was, he had a pretty good look down the majority of the darkened throughway.
Nothing.
That was concerning. Was he being tracked? "Best to get inside. Something is fucky."
Stepping inside the orphanage, he was greeted by an unusual sight.
Mrs. Evergarden was in the foyer, dressed in a gray pleated gown. Mane done up in a multitude of braids. Lately, the mare had something about her, a glow without luminescence.
Her presence was the norm.
What was odd was the fact that a stallion in steel plate armor stood with her–gesturing and talking in an aggravated manner.
His helmet, which indicated an officer judging by the winged emblem, was attached to a clasp on his hip, leaving his three-tone blue mane free to spill down his back and shoulders. He was all white as far as Orion could tell with the armor on.
The Matron spotted him first.
"Orion, where have you been?!" She huffed. He wondered why she was so agitated. What had been said?
"Whatever it was, I didn't do it." He retorted quickly. Maybe too quickly.
"Answer the question, foal." Piercing sky blue eyes glared at him, accompanied by a surprisingly melodic deep voice.
"Yeah, not with Johnny Law here, I don’t think so. This feels like an "I need a lawyer" type thing." He air quoted.
"Orion…" Mrs. Evergarden said sternly. He relented.
"Fine." He let out a heavy sigh. He trusted the matron, and this really didn't make him feel like he was in any specific trouble. Orion just wanted to tweak the stuffy guardstallion's nose a bit. "I was wandering about the Artisan District. They got a sale on glass work, and I was thinking of getting something for my window this summer."
Now that he was thinking about it, this must have been the guard that had been above the ponyhole earlier. "Why was he back there?" The magic flowing off him was similar.
"Can anypony corroborate that?" Came the officer's quick response.
"Listen, Detective Nosey. I don't like people. So no, likely not. Though some folks might have seen me in the crowd, who knows." That got a snort. "What's all this about?"
"There's been a rash of disappearances lately. Not just here but across the nation. Not much more than one or two, but it's a noticeable trend." Mystery Stallion was surprisingly forthcoming. Either that or it was a convenient lie.
"So what, you thought I was the next case Officer….?"
"No. But it helps to be sure." This was all very weird. As the silence stretched, Orion cocked an eyebrow, and the stallion before him grunted before continuing. "I am First Lieutenant Shining Armor."
"Now, why is that name familiar?"
"Okay, Shinedown, what-"
"Lieutenant Armor."
"Shining-ass then."
"Orion, please?!"
The colt hung his head and sighed again. He was doing that a lot lately.
"Sorry. He's annoying." The matron smiled softly in what he hoped was commiseration. "Officer Armor. What is it that you want from me? Because it's clear you're not here to follow up on leads."
Giving a sideways eye at Mrs. Evergarden, the officer spoke.
"Why did you embarrass my sister in front of the Princess?"
"Embarrass….dude. I don't even know you. How would I embarrass your sister?" Then it clicked. "Oh….oooohhhh. You're Twilight's older brother?" A quick nod. "Heh. Heheheh." He couldn't help but laugh a little.
"And what is so humorous?" The glare increased in intensity.
"You're the BBBFF!" He shrieked–full laughter wracking his body now.
Shining got a dangerous gleam in his eye and took a step toward Orion.
"Listen here, you little bucking-"
"COLTS!"
Mrs. Evergarden's full-throated shout brought them up short. Both humor and malice vanished in an instant.
"I will not have you two tearing at each other in MY orphanage." She reached out, grabbed both of them in her magic, and towed them to one of the interview rooms down the hall. "Now, you will conduct yourself like gentlestallions. If there is an issue, I expect you to talk it out like two reasonable ponies. Am I clear?!" She hissed as she shoved them both into the small space.
"Yes, ma'am." Both males said in unison.
"Good. I will be back in twenty minutes. I expect you to have it sorted out by my return. Am I understood?"
"Yes, ma'am." They repeated once more.
"Good."
With that, she slammed the door, leaving the pair dumbfounded.
A thing he noticed about the race was despite the role reversals in their society, some things were still the same—mothers were gonna mother.
"Okay, now that was weird as hell." Never in Orion's time at the orphanage had she acted quite like that. "The hell is going on?"
"Reminds me of some of my instructors…." Shining's remark made him nod in agreement.
"Yeah, never seen her like that before. I mean, sure, she could get angry. Hell, even shout. But never…that."
They turned and looked at each other.
"Listen, you clearly got a problem with me, but I bet there is some context you are sorely lacking. Let's...let's just do as she says." Orion made his way to a chair. The officer followed suit.
Once settled in, they sat there. Shining Armor staring dead into his eyes made it awkward to begin.
After several minutes the black colt had had enough of the tension and decided it was time to break the ice.
"So, I take it you've come to bitch at me about your sister?" The stallion's face scrunched up. Likely at his liberal use of swears.
"Yes. What you did was the lowest, most vile thing I have ever heard of. Not only did you embarrass my sister. You did so while implying that the Princess was...was going to-"
"Make me her stud, yeah." Orion chortled softly.
"That! It's disgusting for you even to imply that the Princess would want anything like that!" Shining barked back.
"So, the Princess isn't a mare?" Entertainment after a shitty day. This was lifting his spirits as he watched his verbal foe splutter and blush at what he was implying.
"T-the Princess is a-a mare! She…she just wouldn't want that! From you!"
"Really? You know her mind, then? Her intimate thoughts?" Watching someone go white as a sheet was always fascinating, which was impressive for the white stallion before him as he somehow began to look a bit ghostly.
After a few minutes, Shining got himself under control.
"You, have besmirched the name of the Princess with these baseless accusations. You have hurt my sister by co-opting her participation in the slander. How dare you?"
Orion had to admit that the stallion had gotten himself under control faster than he thought he would have been able to. Though, it was funny how he and Twilight seemed to react much the same. Still, he figured it was time to be serious and explain himself. If only to get this asshole to leave him alone.
"Okay, listen. And please don't interrupt." Flexing his fingers, he began drumming them as he slowly responded.
"First and foremost, it was a JOKE. Don't." He snapped when Shining opened his mouth. "Wait and listen." Nodding once the officer closed his mouth again, he continued. "I don't know if you have ever been alone with Celestia in any capacity, but the lady is intense. She has a knack for making you say things you wouldn't and digging into every crevice she thinks will pull something to the surface. Talking with her is like playing chess with a knife over your head. Every mistake makes that knife feel a little closer."
"I can…agree with that." The stallion shuddered. Bad memories? "But she is Princess Celestia. You best remember that."
"Whatever. Still, my reason for involving your sister was circumstantial. She was my best bet for getting out of the conversation with the mystery of what color my shit was that morning."
"You're disgusting."
"Granted, and you said that already. If I could continue?" He grinned as he got the nod again. This was going well, all things considered. "My rather expressive expressions aside. I actually explained that to your sister afterwards, but by then, she had already done the typical Twilight panic and freaked out. Yeah, I embarrassed the hell out of her, I never expected her to yell at Celestia, but there it was. My only goal was to get out of there. You know what happened to land me there, right?" He had to know just how much the officer before him actually knew of his life up to this point.
"Yes, three mares had taken to chasing you and had backed you into an alley. Very foolish for you to be out that time of year, by the way." Shining Armor said neutrally.
"Yeah, I managed to knock one of them out, then She showed up and handled the rest." It was his turn to shudder at the memory of Celestia's arms rippling as the monarch clenched and unclenched her fists. The mare was hiding a lot of power under that fluff.
"I read that as well. It was…impressive for your age."
"Mhm."
"So." Shining coughed into his hand. "Your goal was to merely remove yourself from an undesired situation. Do you really believe that makes it okay?"
"At first. Yeah." The glare returned with heat, and Orion sighed. "I have a…habit. Of doing before thinking. In situations where I have no control, I tend to panic and go with my instincts." He spread his hands before himself.
"Like with the timberwolves?"
"Ah. Heard about that one as well, did ya?" The glare softened a little. Was there a bit of respect in those eyes? "I had a plan. Then some roof tiles told me to go fuck myself and dropped me into hell. But still, the moment those go bad, I tend to make dumbass choices that don't always work out. In the case of your sister, it half worked. I got out of the interview, but I pissed her off doing so." He shrugged his shoulders.
For a moment, Shining Armor eyed him speculatively.
"You are not exactly what I had expected, considering the reports."
Orion's ears perked up. "Oh? What do they say?"
"That you are crass, rude, and amoral. A danger to the common pony. And indeed, you are in some of those." He steepled his fingers. "But from where I am sitting, I don’t believe you're amoral. You also seem to possess a healthy dose of humility and regret."
"Oh, trust me, I regret a lot of things. More than you could ever know. But I am a dick." He chuckled. Twilight's brother did not join him.
"That's not normal. Colts, don't act like you. You're an anomaly, and my superiors are starting to take notice. Some of the nobles are as well. Your…exploits are a subject of conversation for many circles."
Orion blinked and looked away. That…was not a good thing.
He had tried to keep a low profile, and his actions had been just the opposite. His conversations with Fair Heart were going well, but it was too late to avoid eyes on himself at this point. He had proverbially screwed the pooch on this one.
"Trust me." He tapped his fingers on the table nervously. "That was not the plan."
"What was the plan then?" Shining leaned forward.
"The plan was…to get through school and get the hell out of Equestria."
That got the older pony to gape.
"You want to leave?! Why?!"
"Dude, let's be real. There is nothing here for a guy like me–too many rules. Too many expectations that I am finding as I grow older are becoming iron clad. To everyone around me, my rebellious nature is getting annoying for most people." He shrugged and leaned back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling. "It might seem a lovely fate for many, getting married to a herd, having some kids, taking care of the home. I…I don't want that life." He fixed Shining with a glare of his own. "I want to be free to choose my own path without being forced to someone else's tune."
He kept back the fact that he often felt that his strings were being plucked by somebody else lately. The thought bothered him greatly.
"You really are unusual…I think you and my father would get along." The sudden smirk on his face was very disturbing in the wake of the grilling he had just received. "He had a habit of bucking trends as well. And I suppose I do too, to some extent, considering my position."
Orion blinked in surprise.
"Okay, what the hell, dude? Here you were, giving me the brotherly third degree, now your all smiles?" He was uncomfortable with the situation. Did all ponies in government have this two-faced ability?
"Haha, I had to give you the third degree. My sister likes you. I have to know what kind of pony she has an interest in." He responded companionably. “Besides, the Princess is her own mare. I had a feeling you had been joking. But you can never be too sure.” He smirked, and the colt couldn’t help but agree and frown simultaneously.
"Okay, so he is not an idiot. But seems to think there is something there that is not with his sister. Another Silver Bell issue."
Orion wasn't blind, though he had denied it at first. Twilight Sparkle was crushing on him. Hard, considering what happened in March, it was too obvious to ignore any longer. But it felt wrong to him, though. He was an adult in a teenager's body, after all. It made him feel dirty, like he would be taking advantage of her or anyone around his body's current age. The situation was just awful in general.
"Couldn't even be reborn as an adult, for fucks sake."
"I…don't know how to tell you this." Shining's eyes narrowed. "I'm not actually interested in your sister. Or anyone for that matter." He struggled not to wilt under that gaze. "It's not that she's not cute or pretty or anything like that.” Thinking back on that night, he barely suppressed a blush remembering the half-done blouse she had been sporting. “It's just…well, I want to leave. No mare or filly is gonna want to allow that, and you know it. I can't afford to get attached to anyone. Ya know?"
For a long moment, Orion thought he was going to get his head caved in, then Shining Armor sighed.
"That makes sense. But you're going to hurt her feelings. Does she even know?"
"At this point, she should. I've made it plain that I'm not interested in anything like that. Not just to her, but everyone in general." Though it seemed Lazy Rain had yet to get the picture from the way she had begun hovering around him once more. Like back in the old days, she seemed to try and stick by him. Even during lunch, to which he was now hiding on the roof after getting his meals. The filly would not get the hint.
"I…see. Well, I can't really lay fault at your hooves, then. Not entirely, at least." The older pony shrugged in his armor. "I have another question for you."
"Shoot," Orion replied, leaning forward.
"Have you seen any suspicious activity in the area lately? Around nightfall or a little afterward?"
"Oh shit."
"Noooo….why? What's up?" He had to be wary. The memory of Shining hovering above his exit from earlier in the day came back to his mind.
"I was being honest about ponies going missing. Not just ponies but griffons as well. No word on if minotaurs have been suffering these events as so few live outside Minos. And no pony hears about Diamond Dog losses." He grunted. "There have been sightings of somepony lurking in the alleyways in this area at night. It's not my assignment, but I took a look out back a little while ago, though I have not seen anything suspicious. Still, I advise you and the residents of this home to remain vigilant."
"Huh. Honestly, I haven't seen anyone or anything. But I'm usually in bed just after ten or so. How bad is it?" He fought not to fidget in his seat. Orion had long ago learned that unnecessary movement made people uneasy.
"Bad enough that a sweep of the sewers is being planned for the summer. No pony has been down there in ages save for the workers. Most of the maps have either been outdated or lost entirely, so this would be a good time to make sure the tunnels are what they should be."
A chill swept through him. It was the absolute worst situation.
"Um. Why tell me? That's kinda sensitive information, isn't it?" Orion was proud his voice didn't tremble.
"Orion, you have Princess Celestia's confidence. I mean, you speak with her more often than most noble ponies I know. Not to mention you are friends with my sister. Your reputation of brutal honesty had been well reported on as well." Shining smiled. "I have done my homework on you."
"That's fair." He would have to move the sensitive items, not tonight, but soon. He couldn't uproot the forge, but he could remove everything else. He only hoped Forager would be willing to hold onto everything for him.
Not to mention the old bull would need to be warned.
His summer was screwed.
"Anything else?" He asked.
"Eager to get rid of me?" Shining Armor asked, mirth in his eyes.
"Hell, yes. You're annoying."
That drew a laugh from the guardspony. Just then, Mrs. Evergarden returned from where she had gone off to. She had a self-satisfied smile that just reeked of her having stuck around to listen, but Orion had not sensed her presence anywhere near them.
He wondered if she had planted some type of mystery device inside the interview room.
A little bit of small talk later, and First Lieutenant Shining Armor was heading out the door.
As they waved goodbye to Twilight's older brother, his mind lamented. "Now, what am I going to do?"
His summer shot, life was looking pretty bleak for the man turned pony.
Forager turned out to be more than willing to help him hide his craft and equally alarmed that he would have to secure his own entrance into the sewer system for the foreseeable future.
Instead of loading up one of the old bull's storerooms, they had put it all under some hidden floorboards in his bedroom. All Orion's notes, books, equipment, and the items he had made fitted quite nicely within the snug space.
The plan was for his things to stay with the old bull till the coast was clear, which could end up being upwards of a year if the search teams took their time.
Stepping back into the sewer, the blacksmith surprised him with washcloth bags that clinked loudly when he took them. "The hell is this?" He asked as four bags threatened to fall out of his arms and onto the sewer floor.
"That, little colt, is your pay for all the work you've been doing for me." Came the minotaur's gruff reply, a broad smile on his face.
"Dude, you pay me with raw gold and gems already." Orion retorted.
"True, but most of that ends up back here with me in my shop when you fill the orders I have asked for. And the rest ends up being used for your own projects. I believe you earned your compensation, my friend."
The pony could only nod in agreement. He was putting the majority of what he got back into Forager’s hands at the end of each month.
"Dare I ask how much is in these?"
The smith tapped his lip with a thick finger. "Roughly thirty thousand, I think. You've been working for me for some time now. I've been just depositing your commission into those since you started."
Orion wanted to yell at him, but after a moment, he just chuckled. He had been bamboozled.
"Got your apprentice after all, huh?"
"I most certainly did. In a rather unorthodox manner, but still did. Better? You have a raw talent I've not seen in many others. In a few years, I expect a masterwork from you." He chortled.
"Yeah, I'm gonna need a bigger forge for that." He looked at the bit bags in his arms. "Listen, I'm not gonna be able to hold onto all of this. Can you drop this in a bank for me? Maybe a safe deposit box? Just give me the key, and I can collect it all once I graduate."
"Don't wish to take it with you?" Forager asked in surprise.
"No. A guy my age running around with this much cash? That's just begging for questions. Just get me a key and let me know where ya planned to put it." He handed back the bags, which looked tiny in the smith's hands.
"Alright then, what do you plan to do in the meantime? With summer coming, and you, unable to work or study.…" The bull shrugged his shoulders.
"I have no fucking clue." It was going to be a boring ass summer vacation, that was for sure.
The last week of May brought another letter from Screaming. Inside was a pair of train tickets, one for a trip to Griffonia and the other was for the return. Both were redeemable at any time during the summer.
"Dear Orion,
"I know, I ask again and again, with little hope these days. I get it, you're technically still underage, and I'm sure Mrs. Evergarden would be less inclined than an actual parent might be. Yet, I implore you, please try and come and visit me.
"I miss you, and hearing of your life in Canterlot is nice, but hearing your voice would be better. I can't make you ask Mrs. Evergarden, but I can beg you to consider trying.
"Yours truly,
"Screaming Rush"
Orion had to laugh. "Well, her handwriting has certainly improved over the years."
The poor griffoness had been trying her hardest to get him to visit her for the past two years or so. The last had been asking him to come to visit during estrus, which led to his unfortunate involvement with the mares who chased him through the streets.
He was never going to get permission. Mrs. Evergarden was still pissed at him over the timberwolf fiasco. The mare had staunchly informed him that he would be denied outright if he did not arrange for someone to watch over him first.
Placing pen to paper, he began to write yet another rejection letter when he stopped.
An old saying came to mind. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission."
It was a terrible idea. Yet, with the end of classes looming, and nothing to do with his break from school, the prospect of haunting the halls of the orphanage looked less and less appealing as his mind weighed the pros and cons of simply heading north.
With or without permission.
He hadn't been outside Equestria since Stalliongrad, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in what Griffonia was like.
The prospect of real meat made his mouth water.
But he barely knew a thing about the neighbor above. Sure they covered it in class, but the country was largely a mystery.
"Okay, before I do anything, consider anything, why don't I just go and read up on it? See if it's worth it."
His plans set for the day, he placed the fountain pen, the latest creation his mind had conjured up, down and made his way to the library on the fourth floor.
Hopefully, there was something he could learn from there. Otherwise, he was going to have to beg for permission to go to the city library instead.
Orion was sick.
He had heard the country was relatively poor. But it was a wonder that it hadn't all burned to the ground by now.
His initial search had not been that fruitful other than to highlight topography, main exports and imports, and a map. That had not been enough, so he had been forced to turn to begging to be allowed at Canterlot City Library, in which he found news clippings and articles on the northern nation. What he found twisted his stomach into knots.
Famine, banditry, and disease that claimed the lives of children and adults alike. It was a complete shit show.
Several towns had succumbed to abandonment, and most ports were shut down as well. As he dug deeper, the why became apparent.
The current King, a Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart, had inherited this disaster from a long line of terrible rulers. He couldn’t help but note how close his therapist’s name was to griffon royalty, but he ignored it.
According to pony history, Griffonia had always been an aggressive nation, constantly squabbling with Equestria over even the most minute of offenses. Skirmishes would often erupt along the borders. Though they were short-lived, this still caused both sides to raise garrisons along the natural divide of the Garberithian Mountains to the north. The unicorns still called it the Unicorn Range, but it seems history wasn’t quite so in love with that name.
Things after that simmered for a while. Only sword rattling followed those first few hundred years.
Then, some eight hundred years ago, King Oskar Bloodbeak rallied the troops and launched a surprise attack across the Hoofprint Sea, toward Manehattan. The results of what should have been the starting salvo in a prolonged and costly war, ended up being beyond what anyone had expected.
The griffin king had gotten it into his head that assaulting during estrus season would mean a weaker defensive force for the city, easy pickings, so to speak, and a great time to shore up defenses before pushing inward from there. It was sound logic, in Orion's opinion, as the main force would be too distracted to form a proper counter-offensive.
However, something drastic occurred in that port city. For whatever reason, every mare, and a fair amount of fillies old enough, flew into what was essentially a breeding frenzy and ended up raping the majority male army that had been sent to capture them. No one knew to this day the how and why that had happened, as estrus should not have affected any of the pony females to such a degree that a week-long event of debauchery ensued.
Needless to say, it was a terrible embarrassment for both nations, as the fruit of that war and heat-driven union birthed the hippogriffs.
Neighbon was born in the wake of the international incident. A small strip of land on the coast not worth the effort to piss on had been given up to provide a place to stay. It was the one time Equestria had given up land willingly to Griffonia.
Though, there was never an answer as to why ponies didn't simply bring the ill-gotten spawn into their fold.
The latter nation became a steward of sorts for the crime of their attack on their pony neighbors, governing the Neighbonese until they sued for independence two hundred and fifty years ago.
During that time, Oskar Bloodbeak had abdicated his throne to his son Prince Esker Bloodbeak.
Once Neighbon left the safety of its parent nation, the Griffonian economy took a nosedive as it turned out the tiny territory had been all that had kept the older kingdom from collapsing. Since then, the country has fought and struggled to feed its people. To protect themselves within their own border against the very people that were supposed to come together.
It was an unmitigated disaster.
It didn't make sense to Orion. There was entirely too much that was being unsaid, and there was no talk of their agriculture. No indication of their manufacturing. Just death, and disease.
Going into the library hadn't given him any ideas on what to do either.
"What can I do?"
It was when he began stepping off the tram from his trip deeper into town that the ramifications of that thought had hit him.
The black colt had already made up his mind. With a groan turned shout that made two stallions jump away from him, he realized he was going to climb into yet another situation that didn't really need his input.
Laying down that night, he determined that he would need bits. Lots of bits.
"Didn't I just get paid?"
Stuffing the last book, an entry on farming in temperate zones, into the satchel, he sighed as he closed the flap and slid it under his bed.
"That makes three." He muttered to himself.
He didn't know what had been the bigger pain–getting the key to the lockbox from Forager, or having to smuggle several books and bits into his room. Shining hadn't been kidding when he had mentioned they were searching the sewer systems.
Orion had made the gamble to initially hide his things in one of the older sewer pathways. The area was crumbling and no longer in use other than as a service tunnel. In one alcove, he stuck everything to the ceiling using an expanding foam formula he had developed from memory and magical assistance with the limited equipment he "borrowed" from his science class.
It wasn't till his second near encounter that he decided to move everything into his room.
Getting the key hadn't really been all that difficult. It was timing his interaction with the bull that had been straight awful. Over the past year, the smith's shop had been stuffed full of various noble and mercantile ponies. All yammering at the poor bastard as he struggled to do his chosen profession.
From what Orion had learned, even after years, they still believed he knew something of the idea of the mysterious enchanter who fixed the Princess's gate.
The fact that they were right was immaterial.
This interference was also the reason why he often found himself making the jewelry and even fancy pony shoes that Forager would typically do.
No. No, it was dealing with the bank manager herself that had been the worst, brief though it was.
"That Bitch."
There were few mares that had earned a title with as much bite as he put into the word. Velvet Backwater being one such example.
However, Rosemary Coin Pinch had to be the worst on that current list. The pink-furred, blond-maned terror, stuffed in an unflattering purple mare's business suit with yellow pinstripes, deserved to have her rear kicked over her head.
Walking into the bank, he grimaced. He knew Forager had told him he wanted security but really wished he had taken the risk to just use one of the less…opulent businesses instead.
The outside was almost a perfect mirror image of Celestia's castle. Though it was significantly reduced in size, that didn't stop whoever had paid for the thing from painting it all the garish colors they thought would clash. His eyes hurt.
Inside looked like someone had been given meth and a gold paint brush and let loose on the walls of the building.
There was even gold fused into the marble.
Orion felt underdressed despite the green collared shirt, and black slacks Rarity had made for him. Though it easily got him by the door greeter, he felt more than a little overwhelmed by all the wealth on display.
Rosemary had recognized who he was and had stopped him before he could make it five steps toward the safety deposit boxes. "And what do you think you are doing here? Ponies of your means…are better served in the Stable District." She sniffed loudly.
He winced at her voice and wanted to snap at her demeaning attitude. The Stable District was considered the poorest location on the second plate. Close to the foundries and warehouses of the third.
"Relax, lady," the wrong thing to say, "I'm just here to check out your lockbox security. I got some stuff I wanna stash and hoped to find someplace a little more secure than the run-of-the-mill deposit boxes."
Coming here was already a risk, but if he played off like the arrogant ass that every rich person was, he figured he could get in and out without much trouble. It was best not to mention he had a key to the place just yet.
She laughed. Full-on laughed in his face.
"An urchin like you? Afford a lockbox in MY bank? Don't make me laugh." She cackled.
"No, I think you already did that for yourself." He deadpanned, which made her mood darken considerably.
"Listen to me, colt." She filled that word with a lot of scorn. "I know who you are. You're trouble. I will not have you infecting this establishment with your filth or your ill manners. Besides, you could not even afford our rates. You don't even have a herd." The mare sneered and said that last part very loudly.
Orion had forgotten that the bank lobby wasn't exactly empty. Many ponies started whispering amongst one another. There were more than a few struggling to restrain snickers as they hid short muzzles behind their hands.
That bothered him more than he liked, but not as much as Coin Pinch wanted. Still, his mouth chose the attack option in his brain's menu screen.
"You're seriously trying to shame me for circumstances that were literally outside of my control?" He asked incredulously. That served to hush the crowd and make the bank manager's already darkened features somehow darker. "What kind of low I.Q. smoothed brain thought process made you think that was a valid criticism?"
Somewhere in his mind, a tiny voice groaned and mumbled something about "low-profile" and "shutting up", but it was summarily ignored as he interrupted her just as the bank manager opened her mouth.
"Let me guess? Mommy got you this position. Because there is no way, someone like you has the critical thinking power to do the basic math to work your way up from cashier."
The crowd laughed, and she went from dark pink to bright red from the neck up. The voice in his head just sighed.
"SECURITY!" The now enraged pink mare screamed, her fellow rich ponies still laughing at her.
As he was hustled out by a very burly earth pony mare, he couldn't help but ponder the fact that the whole lot of them just turned so easily against someone who was essentially one of their own.
Twilight's summation of those in her unwanted peer group was correct.
He decided against another attempt as he had made too large a scene not to be noticed stepping onto the same street as the establishment.
His second, and far more successful attempt to get his money out of a bank involved yelling at Forager.
"Dude, what in the hell?!"
"Now, Lad. I had no idea that Miss Pinch would be so averse to you coming into her establishment." The old bull raised his hand in a placating gesture.
Orion was not soothed.
"Miss Pinch? That name makes sense, actually. I spent less than five minutes in her company, and I can already tell you she has about as much mercy as a purple nurple. No one's gonna wanna marry that bitch!"
Forager thumped him on the head with his fist.
"OW!!" The colt's hands clapped onto the top of his head. "The hell was that for?!"
"Because you demean yourself as well as her." His voice boomed in the old warehouse they had chosen to meet up in. "Yes, she is unbearable. She was not even that kind to myself. But it was not because of what I am, but what I lacked."
"What? A horn drilled into the center of your skull instead of the sides." He rubbed his head gingerly. "That fuckin' hurt!"
"No." The smith said solemnly. "It's because I lack a herd."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to me. What of it?" Retorted Orion.
Instead of responding, Forager just stared for a moment before murmuring, "You don't know…."
"Know what?" This was strange. And the man turned colt didn't know what to make of the old bull's sudden change in demeanor.
"Lad, do you know why a herd is so important to ponies?"
"Yeah, not enough dick to go around, so groups will form up around one male. Duh." He said dismissively.
"That…is one aspect and an important one, true." The minotaur scratched at the patch of fur on his chin. "I never imagined telling a pony what was supposed to be common knowledge for them…."
"You gonna get on with it? What's so fucking important about a herd?"
"A herd is more than just a family to take care of one another." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Say I was to hire you on as an official apprentice, I would also be examining your family. Your Herd." Forager gesturing a circle.
"Why?" Orion couldn't understand. What bearing did a family have on an apprenticeship?
"Upbringing. Is the herd a noble one, doing good by their community, or are they a sneaky sort? Stealing from honest ponies. It's far more complicated than that, of course, but it's essentially-"
"They're my resumé." The colt said quietly.
"That, and they are a reflection of who you are as a pony." Forager finished. "It's the reason why you don't have a gaggle of fillies following after you as well. Word gets around, and the paper occasionally pops up with an article on you."
"Wait. What?" The old bull chuckled richly.
"Orion, in this city, image is everything. A normal colt would have two or three fillies floating about, attempting to do things for him. You do not." Rotating a hand, he shrugged his shoulders. "Now, we could say that is because of Princess Celestia's student. As far as I can tell, Twilight has made it pretty clear she is interested in you."
"Okay, but she doesn't do anything for me. Doesn't follow me around." Orion retorted. This conversation was drifting away from the comfortable, and he wanted that to stop. The where, was the problem.
"She doesn't? Lad, the Lass gets you the books you ask for. She offers her own notes to help you. Twilight even invites you to places you would otherwise not show an interest in." His smirk made his heart sink.
Twilight Sparkle knew he was not interested in a relationship. He had made it very clear that night on castle steps years ago. Yet the girl has been persistent. Or maybe he had just chalked up what she had done as just being really good friends. First Shining, now him.
The smith was making him unsure of that now.
"Enough." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So, is that why Miss "I-got-a-teller-in-my-ass" was such a dick to me?"
"Yes and no. She was rude because of your reputation. As I said, the papers have been talking about you on occasion. Not much of it has been good, I'm afraid to say." He chuckled softly. "A herd would have gone a long way to softening that, I think. But as you have remained an orphan by choice, you don't have that safety measure."
Orion had read some of the hit pieces made against him. Tabloid dribble. Still, Forager had a point. Besides the one-time article on the third page of the Present Times, no one really gave a damn about facts and truth.
"I think we've gotten too far away from the subject at hand." He waved his hands in the air as if to dismiss the conversation. "I need you to transfer my money someplace else. Somewhere where I can walk in, and no one is gonna look twice at me. Please?"
"I can do that, Lad. What's the occasion? I was led to believe, by you no less, that you had no need for the bits."
Orion debated on how much to tell the old bull, then shrugged.
"Going on a trip north." A flat stare was his gift.
"Colt, you need to give me more than that." Fist on hips, Forager tried to loom over him. It was hard to do with the colt as tall as his neck and his slightly curved horn pointed at his face.
"Fine, fine." He placatingly waved the bull down. As much as he hated it, adults here would still treat him like a kid. "I am going north. To Griffonia. I have long rejected an invitation, and with the sewers being otherwise closed to me, far too much time on my hands for the summer."
He could have simply fucked off back down to Ponyville. However, the prospect of dealing with Granny still made him nervous.
Orion wasn't afraid of her, just scared of disappointing the old mare. She had a way about her to make you feel guilty, and his snub of her family's open-armed welcome still bothered him. It was the right thing to do. For their sakes, if nothing else. Still, he just wasn't ready for that.
"Griffonia? And who has been trying to invite you up?" Forager scratched at his beard in thought. "Are you even allowed to leave the country?"
"Not likely to the second, but better to do and ask forgiveness later than not do and be bored for the summer." He chuckled. "As for who has been inviting me up to Equestria's hat, an old childhood friend has been spamming letters for the past couple of years. Really insistent like. So considering my options, I figure why not."
The smith chuckled with him and smacked him on the back. "Careful, Lad. You're gonna get in real trouble being so flagrant with the rules." Taking a step back, he clapped his hands together. "Well, I believe it is time I head on back. My order should be filled by this time, and that…mare," he filled the descriptor with a fair bit of scorn, "will be wanting her payment."
Foragers' feud with Coal Hammer, an earth pony mare that matched the bull in everything but gender, had been cordial if tense. The blacksmith pony, for years, had tried to ensnare the poor guy into a herd. He had finally rebuffed her, rather forcefully.
Now, the pair still does business, but it's always a stressful affair for the minotaur.
"Yeah, good luck with that. Key will be?"
"I'll have it placed in the usual spot."
He supposed he should have expected it, but it was still unfortunate. It meant he would have to go back into the sewers in order to get it.
When Orion and Forager's partnership of sorts first started out, they had come up with a dead drop location in one of the many filtration plants underneath Canterlot. The usual was the one closest to the old bull's shop with a surface entrance he had made the lock and key for years ago. The smith had kept a copy of that key with him and had made one for his not-apprentice recently.
No names were ever mentioned. Just a brief summary of what work was required, and an overabundance of materials that the colt would make use of the leftovers, once whatever project needed to be done had been completed, of course.
"Damn. Yeah, okay. I'll have to change up and go down there during the day. See ya around, Boss." He waved as he made his way to a sewer grate inside the old warehouse.
"Stay safe, and be careful up there, Lad. I hear Griffonia is not the safest of places to be in these days." The smith made his way toward the door toward the alleyway in the back of the building.
"Mhm." His mind was already turning over the logistical issues with the amount of bits he planned to bring with him.
Getting the new key had been easy. Avoiding the guards was an entirely different beast altogether.
He had gotten into the filtration station from a window at the rear, a last-minute plan that allowed him to avoid the sewer tunnels altogether and the front of the building entirely. Though, that did mean going all the way to the Artisan District and circling around Forager's shop again. He still couldn't figure out how the smith managed to get inside himself undetected, as big as he was. Still, Orion went through great pains to avoid notice that Saturday morning, which is why, instead of using the front door, he wiggled his horsey rear into the window in the back.
The traffic in the market area was surprisingly light, but he suspected it wouldn't be long before it picked up.
The dead drop, a small carved alcove in a wall, was behind an old metal cabinet that would only move in one direction as it was wedged in the corner away from the pumps and large filters.
Relying on a combination of gravity suction, a gear system that turned a waterwheel, and a crystal battery that needed charging once a month, along with a good cleaning of the entire mechanism, the filtration station thrummed loudly.
Orion didn't like being in there. Part of that reason was because the crystal battery, an ancient and monstrous unit that took up the majority of one side of the chamber, seemed to interfere with his enchantments.
Because of this, he didn't hear or sense the pair of city guards, earth ponies mares, entering through a hatch that connected to the rest of the sewer system at the bottom of the filtration hub.
The loud clang as the hatch hit the wall was all the warning he had as he abandoned putting the locker back in its original place. Jumping onto the battery across from the metal cabinets, he flattened his frame into the dust and muck that coated the top of the power unit.
"...So I tell him, "are you gonna bend me over? Or am I gonna have to show you how to handle a mare?" A voice spoke.
Laughter erupted from two voices simultaneously as the hatch banged close. He winced. This was bad, all it would take was one of them to take a peek, and he would be busted.
"I bet you had him screaming by the time you wrung him out, Strap." Retorted another voice. From his place on top of the unit, he couldn't see either one as of yet. But their hooffalls said they were either big ladies, or wearing a whole lot of gear.
The hatch they came from sat below all the machinery. One would take either the stairs or just jump to reach the bottom of the chamber.
Not that any of that helped Orion.
"Naw, sadly, his mother had come in just as it was about to get good. Damn hornhead chased my flank right out of there." More laughter. "No clue where she got the cudgel from but wasn't about to stop and ask." The guard known as Strap finished lamely.
"Ahh, don't beat yourself up about it. I'm sure there will be another chance. Stallions are easy." Commiserated her still unnamed team member, wooden boxes were being shifted about as they talked. "I don't see nothing. You?"
"No. Though take a look at this…somepony carved a pocket into the wall behind this locker." He heard the distinct sound of metal scraping stone.
“Oh…shit.”
"Huh, how 'bout that. Perhaps one of the sewer hogs?" Said the other.
"You mean one of the maintenance crews?" Asked Strap.
"Maybe, I dunno. Might wanna report it." A loud clang followed more scraping noises. Did they actually put it back into place? Orion desperately wanted to know what they were doing but dared not peek his head above the edge.
"Naw, so what if the sewer gals have a secret little contraband cubby hole? Remember basic? Wrathful found that stash of cider hidden in the flooring. Heh, Needle, that had to be the greatest night during training!"
The now-named Needle guffawed loudly.
"Yeah, till the bucking morning. Sergeant Butterfly was not happy!" She howled.
"Had us PTing the whole buckin' day!"
"As riveting as this walk down memory lane is for you, can you both kindly fuck off now? Preferably without you looking back at the battery would be lovely." He thought sourly. Orion was no longer as panicky as he had been, just annoyed now at the inconvenience of these chatty Cathys.
It took another minute for their humor to run its course.
"Well, I don't see anything else. What now? Head back into the tunnels?" Asked Needle.
"Please fuck off back into the tunnels." He pleaded in his own mind.
"Yeah, we ain't got a key for the door here." The clopping of hooves on stairs was followed by the rustic grind of the hatch being pulled open again. "After you."
"Oh, no. Stallions first." Giggled the other.
"WILL YOU FUCKTARDS, PLEASE JUST GO!"
"You shit." The sound of a hand smacking steel rang into the air. "Get your flankhole into the hole!" Laughed Strap once more.
Soon enough, the hatch banged closed, and Orion let out the breath he had been holding for what felt like an hour. He remained laying in his bed of dirt and sewer grime for another ten minutes, just in case.
Once sure that the coast was clear, he rushed for the slightly open window and clambered out into the alley behind the sewage plant.
Looking down at himself, the colt sighed. "I look like ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag." No amount of cleaning spells were going to get all of the grime out, and now he had a very pungent aroma that wafted about him.
Rather than wander back to the orphanage. He instead headed toward a nearby park.
Any clean spell could be performed on its own without any additives to the mix. However, the spell's effectiveness increased significantly if you had water on hand and some leaves.
He was not about to head home smelling like he rolled in dogshit.
Retrieving his funds, roughly a third of what he had been paid by Forager, from a run-down brick building on the third plate had been simple.
The name on the building had made him chuckle. Pony Bank . That was it.
Inside, the tellers were run by griffons, and a diamond dog managed the establishment. His brief conversation with the mutt gave a clear indication of who had named the place. Still, he had a much easier time getting the bits from the lockbox this go around.
Purchasing the books and various travel items he would need had only been a mild inconvenience. Most bookstores were more dedicated to selling magazines and self-help books than anything of any real worth. So it took a couple of days to buy everything and smuggle it into his room.
Now with his three travel packs settled snugly under his bed, he took a seat at his writing desk.
"I'm gonna have to leave a letter." Orion mused.
He was already breaking the rules just by leaving the city without permission, let alone the nation. He should at least let Mrs. Evergarden know his destination. Pulling out a slip of paper and tapping the fountain pen against his lips, he thought about how to apologize. She was going to be super pissed.
He chuckled.
"Dear Mrs. E,
"By the time you see this, I will likely be long gone.
"I'm not running away, I will be back. However, I haven't had a vacation in some time. So with that in mind and a boring summer ahead, I went ahead and made plans.
"Actually, Screaming made plans. You remember her, right? The griffon chick who lived here when I arrived? Well, turns out she had more than enough money to pay for a train ticket there and back. Oh, right. The where is Griffonia. More specifically, Griffonstone itself.
"Now I know what you're thinking. "Are you crazy?!" And the answer may surprise you.
“Yes.
"I may be a little crazy. But I'm bored as hell, and I think I've put Screaming off long enough, don't you?
"Anyways, by the time you search my room and find this letter, I should be most of the way there. I will be careful. I will stay safe. And yes, I did pack extra underwear. No smelly butt for me.
"Sorry for making you worry. I'll see you at the end of summer.
"Orion
"P.S. Don't tell the Princess where I am. I have a feeling she would cut short my vacation."
Folding the letter up, he pulled the wax kit Mrs. Evergarden had gotten for him a few birthdays ago over and opened it. It was rare that he had the chance to use it.
Inside was spare blue wax cubes, the stamp, and a heating spoon to help melt the wax.
When he first got the kit, there was a blank gold stamp inside meant to be carved with a sigil. The trouble was that he had no idea what to choose. A crest was out of the question as he had no family. His initials were out too. True, no one would know the reference, but he would. So O.F. was off the table as well.
A pegasus filly had run by the table he was at, jazzed up on the overly sweet cake that had been purchased for him that he could not, nor would not eat. A deep blue feather fell from one of her wings onto the kit in front of him.
His grandma once told him that finding a feather in your path was good luck. A sign of God's blessing and will.
While he had no love for her "Almighty", nor the belief in it, he could not help but take that as a sign. So he set about carving a feather as best he could into the gold surface.
Pressing the stamp into the freshly melted wax, he held it there for a moment before pulling it away.
The image of a feather stood out in the blue wax that held gold shavings. Orion had to admit, he had done a damn fine job in making it.
Putting the kit away after it cooled, he placed the letter on his bed. It was almost midnight now, and the train to Griffonia was in a couple of hours. It would take him a few days or so to get to his destination, and he wanted to get a nap in at the station before dawn hit on his trip north.
"I hope Mrs. E. won't be too pissed at me." He chuckled as he pulled on the first of the three packs out from under his bed and opened the window.
Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria, was bored. A yawn threatened to force past her lips, but she suppressed it.
This was an unusual summer. A leak in the Great Hall had been discovered in May, and rather than just patch it, the monarch had instead chosen for a complete remodel. After all, it had been a few hundred years since the last update.
However, this remodel meant she had to close Day Court for the summer to give the architects a chance to evaluate and begin their task. No other chamber in the whole of the castle could contain the crowds that would often come to either watch the petitions or pose one of their own.
Celestia could have simply held court outside, but that would have disrupted weather patterns for the city and surrounding land. So she suspended it in its entirely. Secretly she hoped that ponies would finally get the idea in their head to send their grievances to their local magistrates. However, there wasn't much hope of that.
Still, this left the white monarch with not much to do. Without Day Court, she was able to breeze through reports and assessments with ease.
The line out to the desert town of Appleloosa was finally underway and going well. The Buffalo tribes were not pleased, but they had negotiated crossings in key areas for them to run their Sacred Lands.
She snorted derisively at that thought. Six thousand years ago, those lands were in the control of a particularly nasty tribe of Validins. The vulpine race had made life for travelers a misery that often ended in rape and death.
Celestia and her sister had wiped out the tribe. Both out of necessity and anger. Their latest attempt to sway the pony tribes into uniting had failed when Black Rip, a pegasus, had been hired to assassinate Primarch Post Mortem by that very tribe in an attempt to keep the area unstable. They were oblivious to the sisters’ own efforts and had been merely wanting to keep their way of life secure.
Thinking about it afterward and now, she could not help but feel the mare's name was a telling of her fate. Unfortunately, the assassination had been a success, and the region had been once again thrown into chaos.
In frustration, the pair of sisters had traveled out, found, and slaughtered the tribe. It was both justice and a great stress relief for them both.
A few centuries later, the first of the nomadic Buffalo tribes showed up to claim the land. Neither immortal was inclined to dispute them nor inform them of who originally owned the territory.
Well, she had her rail line, and they still had their trampling grounds.
She shifted the papers on her desk.
Still no word on who was haunting the alleyways and dark places of the city. The sewer was going through its sixth search. Other than finding a few more undocumented chambers within the tunnels, nothing had been discovered.
The city guard did find several Bornatus Spider nests below and evidence that there were more, but those seemed to have burned away some time ago. The monarch had ordered them purged, and the pests stamped out with ruthless abandon.
It was a surprise to see them outside the Everfree.
The nasty little things, while not dangerous on their own, were capable in a group to paralyze and feed on a pony. She would not have that happen so close to her seat of power.
Other than that, nothing. She sighed in exasperation. What to do?
Her student could provide some entertainment, not to mention she should be testing the limits of her current strength and capabilities. She need not worry about her protégé's intelligence, as the filly absorbed knowledge like a sponge. Instead, she wanted her to learn to use her intellect and understanding to their utmost. It was not yet time to impart knowledge of a more political nature. The filly was just not ready for that yet.
Sadly, Twilight Sparkle was out with family. Celestia had allowed Shining Armor to return to the capital for some rest and relaxation. Though his return was due in large part to Cadance wishing to see him.
He was handsome, so she could not blame the young alicorn for her interest.
A door creaked open, and her head snapped up. Lucky Write stood there with a frown on her face.
"Mrs. Write? What is wrong?" She asked, standing and coming around her study's desk.
"The sixth sweep is already done, you're Highness. Nothing has been found." She thumbed through a thick stack of papers clutched in her right hand. "The spiders have been eradicated, and work crews have been directed to clean the area." She yanked out one packet. "Also, it was noted that there were several locations in need of repair. Raven has already allocated funds and ponies to the task."
Celestia nodded approvingly. She and Miss Inkwell were proving invaluable. They knew what was expected from them and excelled with little direction, a far cry from the common pony that she would often deal with.
"Very good. As to the mysterious figure lurking in my city, somepony might have tipped them off. Have Internals investigate. If we can not find our lurker in one manner, we shall find it in another."
The trend of missing ponies had begun to get attention from a national level now. Whole communities were putting forth complaints, and the monarch was determined to find out what was happening.
"Is there anything else, Mrs. Write?" She asked hopefully. Any distraction would be welcome.
"No, my Princess. The rail line is well on its way to being completed by the end of fall. Parliament has decided to take the week off, which is rare, and I see you have already finished off the reports of the day. It looks like you have one of those rare moments off, Highness." The normally dour pony smiled up at her.
Celestia's hopes died.
The monarch could always read, but lately, she hadn't found anything to interest her. Tea sounded nice till she remembered that she would have it alone once again.
"Wait…"
Orion's name sprung into her mind. She could not believe she had forgotten about the troublesome little colt. Since March, he had kept his head down, and it was well into June now.
"Mrs. Write. Would you be so kind as to extend an invitation to the castle for Orion Falls?" She could have tea with him and ask about the projects he no doubt had hidden away from view. The pony had come up with a number of unique ideas, and she wanted to know what he had planned for the summer.
"You want me to…invite…him?" Lucky's voice was incredulous and mirrored her expression. "Your Highness, do you really think you need to involve yourself with the likes of…him?"
Celestia almost sighed. Her secretary's animosity toward Orion was well noted, and as far as she had been able to determine, neither side wished to mend the bridges between them.
"Are you objecting?" She asked kindly. The royal Alicorn could appreciate her aid's concern, but this was very close to insubordination.
"No! NO! I apologize, your Highness, but that colt is no good. You must see it!" She fidgeted before continuing on, much quieter than her initial outburst. "There have even been rumors. Unsavory tales…involving you…and him."
This time Celestia very much did sigh. Even groaned on top of it.
How could she forget the rumors that she had been about to have her way with the colt? Had Twilight not shouted as she had, no pony would have even known he was in the castle but the guards.
"I will not allow rumors to spoil things for me, Mrs. Write. The only way to dispel these words of hearsay is to go on as if they do not exist. Please, send my invitation."
Lucky's lips opened and closed a few times before she closed them fully, and her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at her ruler.
"You are right, Princess. I will send the letter out immediately.”
A couple of hours later found Celestia in the gardens. A view of the valley spread before her. She liked this location.
Magenta eyes touched on a fair size town directly south. Their turn for the Summer Sun Celebration was fast approaching, if she remembered correctly.
She enjoyed going to small towns to hold her summer event. For one, the monarch just enjoyed that small-town feel. But it was far more important than just her feelings.
A village visited personally by her encouraged many to move from cities into these smaller settlements when they explored during her events. This was good, for a city should not be too large for the area to support them. It was also important to give those city ponies another viewpoint. In the past, those remaining in high population centers would often have a more insular and wrong view of the world.
This would break them of that.
She only wished she had thought of it herself instead of Starswirl making the point. That clever stallion had watched the effect she had on others for years.
A tea tray was placed on the table before her. Just on the other side was a second smaller chair for her soon-to-be guest. She looked forward to bantering words with him. Celestia smiled to herself and looked to the door.
Instead of a disgruntled colt, no doubt pulled from his studies, her current Captain of the Guard, one of the few stallions in her service no less, stepped through instead. He saluted, and his eyes darted nervously.
"Broad Blade? What is it? Has something happened?"
"Princess, I ah…..I regret to inform you…."
Shining chuckled at his sister's antics. Twilight's mouth had not stopped moving since he had woken up that morning. Babbling excitedly and asking a myriad of questions, then talking over him when he tried to answer, she carried on as if they were the only two ponies in the world. He loved her, but his fellow guards were right. The filly was a spaz.
They were at the sink in their family's home. He, washing the dishes, and her whisking them away dried before they even reached her hands. Twilight used magic too much, in his opinion.
Still, her diatribe on the merits of Storm Trot's principles of weather control was amusing.
"When had she gotten so into weather control?" He mused to himself.
A loud knocking came from the foyer in front of his family's home. The knock was crisp and quick. His stomach sank.
"MOTHER! I got it!" He shouted down the hall toward the living room where both of his parents were. "Can you finish this up, BLSFF?" He had stumbled over that a few times when he was younger. Now it was just second nature.
"I sure can, BBBFF!" She chirped.
"Thanks!" With that lump at the base of his belly, he marched down the hall with a grim frown. "If they ruin my vacation.…"
They did, in the form of a pair of officers.
"Captain Broad Blade?" Turning, he noticed the new Second Lieutenant Spitfire of Canterlot's EAD. "Lieutenant?"
"Apologies. I know this is your time off, and I am reluctant to pull you back, but the Princess has given this order directly." The stallion grabbed his collar, tugging it as he let out a nervous cough.
"What's the situation?" All anger and frustration swept away as military discipline surfaced. He could complain later. More than likely, he would be hearing the complaints from Candance and Twilight rather than voicing them himself.
The lieutenant took over. "As of eleven twenty-four yesterday, Orion Falls of "Mrs. Evergarden's Home for Wayward Foals" has been missing from his room for two weeks and three days."
Shining glanced quickly behind himself to ensure Twilight wasn't in hearing range, then closed the front door.
"Do we know what happened? Why wasn't this reported sooner?" He asked quickly in a hushed tone.
"Yesterday, Princess Celestia intended to extend an invitation to Orion Falls for tea in the south gardens." The captain spoke up. "A city guard was dispatched to retrieve him. Upon arrival at the residence, he was not to be found. As to the reason why it was not reported." He lifted a sheet of paper with blue wax still stuck at one edge.
Taking the letter, Shining Armor read. Then groaned. "Is this for real?"
Spitfire chuckled. "It is. The Ticket Master on platform three recognized his description when we went to confirm. The train conductor also confirmed that he had been aboard the northern line when it departed that early morning." That chuckle turned into a small laugh. "I have to admit, the ovarian fortitude of this colt is incredible."
"This is no laughing matter, Lieutenant." Snapped Broad Blade.
"It kinda is, Sir. I mean, look at what he gets away with! Not to mention just last year, he killed a Timberwolf. Who knows how long he's been just leaving the city at his leisure? Why hasn't Princess Celestia done anything about him?"
"Lieutenant! This is not for us to question. Only comply with her orders." He coughed and turned back to Shining. "As it stands, the Princess wants him retrieved. In haste."
"Sir, I do not mean to sound flippant. But why is he so important? And, why me?"
"I believe it might be something close to what the Lieutenant here has said. This may just be Princess Celestia's way of trying to scare him into acquiesce." He muttered something too low for Shining to hear correctly. "As to why you have been selected, I am not certain. Possibly because you are one of the few active stallions in the military and given your talents for capture and detainment.…" He left the rest unsaid, but the First Lieutenant understood.
His ability to conjure shields of varying strength and size effortlessly was not just limited to protection. His trainers had been quick to see the merits in using him for live capture missions, often with more than one target. Hence why he was taken from one location to another.
Shining wasn't just useful in capturing criminals and enemy commanders either. The science community had noted his strength and had already requested his service in more than one study.
As it so happened, this coming fall had him being sent to the Everfree to capture and study timberwolves. Orion Falls and Errant Strikes report on their behavior had given a resurgence to attempting to understand the elusive beasts.
"Sir, that still doesn't cover why Orion Falls is so important." He brought his first question up once more.
"It likely has something to do with your sister." Retorted Spitfire. "Nepotism at its finest if you ask me."
Shining did something most stallions would never even consider. He loomed over the diminutive mare and glared down at her. His father would admonish this behavior, but he would not allow anypony to speak ill of his sister to his own face.
"Do you have a problem with my sister, Lieutenant?" The heat in his voice and eyes made the pegasus take a step back in alarm.
"N-no. Lady Sparkle has earned her position. It's…it's just the fact that with her position, friends of hers get special considerations. I…I think the colt has been in the company of her Highness more often than should be proper."
His fist clenched. "That bucking rumor.…"
"I would not give much credence to rumors without the facts to back them up." There may have been another reason why the Princess chose him. "I have recently spoken with Orion. From his own lips, he has spoken to the inaccuracies of the whispers happening within the castle."
"Wait? You've spoken to him?! When?!" Eyes wide in anger, Spitfire stepped closer.
Raising his hands, it was his turn to ward off her approach. "The truth is far odder than the reports have suggested. There are a few statements I feel that are false to his character. Orion has admitted to the fact that he is less than anypony's ideal pony. However, he shows remorse and an ability to think far more clearly than our intel would suggest."
The pegasus stepped back with the assistance of her wings.
"Really now?" She pressed fingers to her chin and turned away. A frown creased her features.
The captain took over. "Regardless of whether his report's accuracy is correct, Orion must be found and brought back. He is a minor under the stewardship of the Throne by way of Mrs. Evergarden's orphanage. And the Princess has demanded his return."
"Understood. When do I leave?" Shining Armor kept the dissatisfaction from his voice.
"Tonight. You will be accompanied by three members of the Rovers." That was good. The Rovers were a branch of the Equestrian Armed Forces that specialized in recon and rescue. Broad Blade gestured to Spitfire. "The Second Lieutenant here will be going as an aerial scout as well. With your combined talents, Orion Falls should be easily found and restrained."
The white stallion nodded. He wondered if he should tell his sister.
Author's Note
And Good Afternoon! Well, good afternoon from my time at least. If your reading this just as I posted this, that means it was put up on a Saturday.
Surprise!
The reason for this is simple. I have shit to do tomorrow and I wasn't sure I would have time to hit the old publish button on Sunday.
I'm sure you all noticed a few key changes to the original tale by now. Well, those are going to get worse, or better depending on your view. I made Orion a bit too OP in my opinion and wanted to cripple him just a little more. MOAR!
Monk wouldn't say I was abusing him however, just making him less of Gary Stu.
Alrighty. I'm done yaking. Have a great rest of your day and donate to my Kofi to help me get some equipment and art for the story.
Thanks for reading.
Peace!
Author's Note
Good Evening! Or whatever.
Welcome to the 18th chapter. From here on out, you all are going to notice a decidedly different direction the story will take, while still following along the original path of the original. This, is where life becomes VERY complicated for our intrepid protagonist.
As always, leave your comments on what you think. Instead of my Kofi being shilled, I would ask that you donate to Samaritans Purse . One of the many organizations helping those down in Florida. Hurricane Ian was a right and proper dick and slapped around my southern neighbors like a pimp.
So if you can, help out.
Thank you for reading.
Peace!
Griffonia
The journey northwest was long. Nearly six days, with a couple of stops per day, to allow the passengers to get out and stretch their legs. Wings, in the case of the avian voyagers, that seemed to steadily increase with each halt in his trip.
It was a very curious thing to find that on the second day of waking up on the train that he was alone. Well, not alone alone, but he was the lone pony on a train packed full of griffons of various sizes and colors. However, the colors were more muted to the browns and tans spectrum of the color wheel.
Races, too, as not all were a standard. Some with thin stork-like beaks, others had fat bills reminding him of that one bird from the internet. The creepy dinosaur-like one that he could not remember the name for.
Many looked, for lack of better wording, run over. The males were dead-eyed and haggard. With their chicks clutching the threadbare hems of their outfits, the females looked hopeless as they stared vacantly out the windows, not really seeing the scenery.
They must have begged, possibly even stole, the bits to afford a ticket. The furtive glances of some spoke that not all had even been able to pay the fare.
What really broke his heart was the kids. Sunken cheeks and thin frames. Filling meals seemed to be incredibly hard to come by here, and it tore at him to know some of them might potentially die.
Reading about it was one thing. The reality of seeing what had been happening was far, far worse.
Why hadn't Celestia done anything? One thing Orion knew about the monarch was her love for kids. His wasn't the only class that visited the singular ruler of Equestria. So it made no sense to him that she would not even lift a finger to help the children of this country. Was the cost that great?
None of this was right. There was no international coalition of people to try and solve this. Even in his war-riddled former home world, there had been folks trying to uplift the downtrodden and hungry. To at least provide clean drinking water.
As they passed over the border and further into Griffonia itself, he spotted several burned-out and abandoned homesteads that dotted the landscape. Sweeping grasslands gave way to thick forests and back again, hiding the desolate sights from view. Those homes were a black mark on the land, those that his eye caught at least. There could be several hundred he was not seeing.
It was the third day, and he couldn't take it anymore. A young griffon chick had been watching him eat, watching him eat at night no less.
It had been an uncomfortable situation as he had been eating late into the evening from his travel rations to avoid this very thing. She had woken up, and Orion caught her staring just as he pushed a ripped-up portion of bread into his mouth.
Those tears in her eyes had been what had finally broken him. Rarity’s pension for generosity must have rubbed off on him more than he realized.
A train was pulling in, coming from the south from what Fiesta Garden could tell. She sighed heavily as she rose from the bench she had been sitting on for what felt like days.
She had been foolish. Allowing her sister to talk her into setting up here in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.
"The griffins will be easy!" Farra had told her. "They have no way of storing food on their own with any real longevity. All you have to do is buy fish, bread, and water. Maybe some beer and wine too. They’ll throw their bits at you!"
That had not happened.
Instead, she barely broke even as the poorest of their society haggled with old items of no real value for just a bite of bread. A sliver of cheese.
It broke Fiesta's heart. Especially the foals. But at the same time, she wouldn't be able to afford anything if she just gave away what she had purchased.
Turning from the rail line as the train slowed, she swung open the doors to the small warehouse she had turned into a makeshift store. Barrels of fish with crystals embedded into the lid stood off to one side. They had been each charged with a preservation spell that gave them the ability to last nearly a full year before the contents inside spoiled.
She hated fish. But they went the quickest if she was lucky. All of it was pre-cooked, the spell keeping it in that same state for the complete duration if it was necessary. But each time she opened a lid, a little bit of time would leak away.
Fiesta checked the covered carts ladened with cheeses and bread. Fruits and vegetables as well. Everything seemed good and still ripe.
When she was young, she had first learned about griffons from school. The image in her head about giant vicious meat eaters didn't get replaced till she arrived in Canterlot well into her adult years while working with a merchant caravan.
It was quite surprising to learn of the varied diet of the race.
That alone was why the unicorn had even agreed to her crazy sibling's mad idea.
Turning around, she was confronted by a very tall, handsome black unicorn stallion. His fiery orange mane billowed in the wind. Beads of wood and steel clacked together discordantly.
"Oh my…" Married as she was, she could still appreciate a well-kept male, and she found her eyes wandering over his shoulders before getting to startling hard eyes.
"I don't usually get ponies looking to shop at my store, but what can I help you with?" He grunted as those eyes of his scanned her goods, lingering on the barrels of fish in particular.
"How much?" His demeanor seemed strained. Was he actually asking about the fish?
"I'm sorry. Are you asking about the vegetables? Fruit?"
"All of it." Came his flat reply.
"W-what?" She shook her head. Was he serious? "I'm sorry…sir…but is your herd-"
"Don't have a herd, traveling north on my own." He interrupted. "Please, no questions. I don't have a lot of time. The train only stops for about ten minutes. How much for everything you have here." His tone and his face pleaded with her, spoke to the urgency.
Was he a hostage? No. No, there was no pony but them currently at her stall. A peak behind him showed a lot of eyes in the windows, watching. Griffon eyes, well as their offspring.
"Could he be actually be wanting to buy it all…for them?" Fiesta had heard of nobles supplying a festival for when crops had come in early and in plenty. But that was limited to ponies. She had never heard of anypony doing so for another species.
The unicorn mare ran the numbers in her head quickly and blinked. She stood to make a lot of coins this morning. She licked her lips which were suddenly very dry.
"With everything here…six hundred and seventy-eight bits. Gold weight, sir." He couldn't be serious. That was a lot of bits for anypony to carry on them at one time. Let alone a wet behind the ears stallion like him.
Her internal humor came to an abrupt stop as he dropped two washcloth bags in front of her, pulling a third to begin counting out the remainder of what she had asked.
He paused. His gray gaze was directed behind her.
"How much for those bags?" He gestured with a closed fist, coins clinking within from the sudden movement.
Turning, Fiesta saw that the black pony had spotted a pile of rough woolen sacks. She had gotten them for bare coppers. She glanced back at him, and then behind at the eyes of griffons and their foals.
"Free with your purchase, sir." She mumbled numbly. Nodding, he forced the gold into her hands.
His horn lit up like a torch, and the barrels of fish lifted from their places in her shop. All fifteen of them. "So strong." Her face must have mimicked her shock because he smirked as he grabbed a few more items, including the bags. She had heard of other, particularly powerful, unicorns being capable of similar feats of strength and skill with their magic. But for her, she was weak. Her whole bloodline had always been. Her grandmother had said it was too much earth pony in the blood. Though her grandmother was a known racist that everyone seemed to ignore. So it could be just the fault of no pony in her family actually trying to exceed in the skill they were born with.
She stood to one side, her hands gripping her payment tightly, as he ran back and forth, hauling what took her an entire day to put into the store in only a few minutes.
"Thanks!" He shouted before diving back into the train as the whistle blew.
"Hey! You shits! No hoarding the fucking food!" She heard him roar over the whistle blasts as the steam engine picked up speed. "Eat it slow! Y'all likely not eaten in a while, and you'll make yourselves sick! I said slow, you fuckin’ chipmunk! You! Yes, you! Share with your sister-” The blast of train whistles and the hissing of steam drowned out his ranting.
Fiesta couldn’t help but grin. Her sister was never going to believe this. As the train pulled away, the mare’s heart felt oddly light. Perhaps she should look into making a non-profit?
Screaming paced in front of the train station. Her mind raced with questions.
Questions like, what did he look like now? Was he still taller than her? Had he changed in some way not conveyed in their letters?
She ran hands in her feathers, adjusting any strays that hadn't been taken care of that morning. Her clawed fingertips also found themselves straightening her dress for what felt like the thousandth time by now.
She was so nervous. No, terrified. If she didn't settle herself soon, she was likely to molt right on the spot! Images of her suddenly losing her plumage just as he stepped off the train somehow made it all worse.
Gilda had given up trying to calm her. The guard assigned to her wore an exasperated expression as she watched her charge attempt to carve a path into the cobblestone street with her paws alone. Her disapproval did not go unnoticed.
"I know! I just…what if he doesn't…." Screaming glanced at a window, checking herself over in the warped lead glass as best she could. Again.
She had preened with the best oils her allowance could afford. The oils had the scent of lavender and field berries mixed in, giving her a floral and subtle fruity smell. The now grown hen had also applied a red eyeliner around the edges of her eyes, to match the red powder she had put on her ear tufts. Soft, gentle hazel eyes with gold flecks stared back at her nervously.
For her outfit, she had worn a dark red shirt with rich silver embroidery along the bodice. The pants were unadorned black, though they hugged her curves nicely, she hoped.
Her aunt, Gabriele, had said a drake would have to be blind and dead not to notice.
As she walked from home to the station, her relative’s advice had been proven true. Screaming couldn't help but notice the way a great many griffons had watched her pass intently. That had been a severe boost in her confidence.
However, she cared very little for what they wished or thought of her looks and figure, just Orion.
Orion. That colt had surprised her when a letter had arrived yesterday telling her he was on his way, that he would arrive today! If she was honest, she was a bit peeved at him. He had not even given her any time to arrange more of a greeting. Or to get a dress tailored to impress!
The nerve.
She adjusted her top once more. Would he find her pretty? Screaming couldn't help but observe her breasts straining the fabric. Were they too big?
Growing up, she had discovered she was more buxom than the other hens her age. She was tall for one and far more voluptuous than the others in her peer group. That had isolated her in many ways. Though until she had reached fifteen, Screaming hadn't had a clue as to why. Snide comments and aggressive attitudes were piled onto her whenever she arrived for a party.
She had dealt with years of hateful female antagonism because of it.
She slapped her cheeks. "Stop it! That's in the past. You've moved beyond such pettiness." The griffoness took a deep breath and let it go. Smiling at her slightly warped visage with faux confidence. That shallow self-assurance was nearly shattered by the whistle blast and the screech of steel on steel. The train had finally arrived.
"Are…are you really here?" She asked in her heart as the locomotive came to a grounding halt on the tracks inside the station proper. After a minute of waiting, the carriage attached to the steam engine opened, and a tide of smiling, even happy-looking, griffons poured out of the open doors.
Screaming was taken back by the laughter that reached her ears. Even Gilda had been caught unawares as she stood up and came to stand by her side, eyes hunting for trouble.
In the past, she had come down and watched the trains disgorge their payload of broken-spirited people. The haggard faces tore at her heart. The crying chicks made her want to collapse in despair. She had finally come home to find it practically beyond saving.
Looking into the faces of those now moving past her, she could still see the tired and stretched expressions of worry. But there was a sparkle in their eyes that she had only seen among the noble classes, or those still with a roof over their heads.
What had happened?
Toward the end of the flock of passengers came a more tightly packed group. Chicks hung off the arms and shoulders of the largest stallion she had ever personally seen. Their parents were also there, acting as almost an honor guard as their eyes swept suspiciously at anyone not a part of their group.
When their gazes fell on him, they smiled broadly. Warmth and happiness fighting upon their faces.
That stallion had to stand at least a head taller than the tallest griffon amongst the entourage. All black with a fiery orange mane, hints of brown threaded through with beads of metal and wood hanging on braided strands.
His chin sported a beard that ran halfway up his jaw. It shared in the mane coloring, though the chin fluff was slightly darker.
The unicorn stallion wore simple clothing. A tan collar-less shirt, the laces at the neck hanging loose, and a pair of dark brown cotton pants. The ends were tied up above the cannons with neat little bows.
Stone gray eyes, which had always been buried in books, now held mirth as he picked up and swung one of the chicks in the air like she was flying. The little hen in the making shrieked with laughter as she flapped her wings without any real force. At the same time, he began chasing the little ones around him, making roaring noises. The cubs scattered in mock terror, squealing and laughing all at once.
This was the moody colt she had left behind in Canterlot?! He hated foals. Hated the idea of having to even teach them anything! What under the Sun had happened?
Taking another look at her long-time letter friend, she noticed with a furious blush how well he filled out that shirt he wore. "Oh, sweet Celestia! He never stopped with the gym, did he?" Screaming figured he would have eventually neglected his other hobby because he had stayed stuck to his books for so long. That appeared not to be the case.
Approaching slowly, she coughed to get his attention. Instead, she received some rather unfriendly stares from those around him.
His head rose after setting down the chick he had picked up. For the moment, all he did was squint at her before his eyes lit up, and he grinned broadly, sharp teeth shining in the mid-morning sunlight.
Someone had coughed loudly. Sensing that someone was trying to get his attention, he set down Frida and looked up.
"No…is that really-?"
His friend from afar had grown up! Grown-up and out in all the right places to boot.
The red makeup around her eyes and ear tips really suited her. Her brown-green eyes gave away her nervousness. Which was good because he had not recognized her at first and had needed to really look at the fully grown hen to make sure it was her.
Slinging a kid off his neck, he stepped forward.
"Screaming? Holy shit, girl! Look at you! You're drop-dead gorgeous!" He exclaimed.
His pen pal gaped at him, then blushed furiously. He had either gotten worse with his language, or the griffon had completely forgotten how curse-happy he was.
He felt a tug at a pant leg and looked down. Frida stared up at him in confusion.
"What's up, Squirt?" He asked with a smile.
"What does "shit" mean?" She asked curiously. Her head cocked cutely to one side.
His smile broke into a grin as he glanced at her mother, who had been squawking at him since the third day of his violently vulgar tirade about their eating habits. Orion had simply not wanted them to make themselves sick or start World War Three over the food he had hastily purchased.
The black colt had learned two things that day. No, three things.
One: Some griffons could screech at the same level of a pig squeal. He was now becoming worried he might get tinnitus in his later years over all the sharp and loud noises he had been subjected to lately.
Two: They can purr like cats. It was wildly cute if a little puzzling.
And three: Starving people do not think rationally when given what is essentially a buffet. It took him two hours to wrangle some semblance of order from the chaos of bringing that much food onto the train.
The other two train carts had also sent sorties in an attempt to snag supplies. They were apparently thinking he only intended to feed the carriage he was staying in, and that much food was far too tempting not to attempt a smash and grab.
Once order had been reinforced, which involved him going full powered monster mode, they all settled down. The realization that he had not bought for himself alone seemed to mollify them greatly.
His near-violent explosion had not stopped Gertrude Fallowfeather.
Once the food had been distributed, and he had made sure the group had followed his instructions, the hen laid into him.
He got distinct "Granny" vibes from the lady.
Apparently, her daughter, Frida Fallowfeather, had a rather inquisitive nature and had been pestering her mother about the various curses he had laid into the lot of them with.
Needless to say, mother was not happy.
Friedrich, her husband, and the chick's father did his best to keep the peace between Orion and his wife. The drake was just happy that his family was fully fed for the first time in months and a bit amused by the animosity brewing between his mate and the colt that provided for them.
"Ask your mother, kiddo." He chuckled at the dark look the lady in rags gave him. Looking at her husband, who in the past couple of days, had become the de facto leader of the group, his grin fell to a solemn frown. "You know what to do?"
"Yes. The others are making the needed purchases now." Mr. Fallowfeather replied.
This morning, on their approach to the city, Orion gathered all the adult drakes in the last cabin of the train and asked them if they wanted some advice. A few balked and left. But those that stayed, including the griffon who would become the figurehead of their party.
"I'd avoid the city if I were you guys." He started simply. That statement was met with understandable skepticism and less than understandable hostility.
"What in Tartarus do you suppose we do then? Go out into the wilderness and die?!" Spat a particularly ugly bird-cat. Sometime in his past, he must have said the wrong thing and got his beak twisted for his mistake. "I will not lead my hatchlings to their deaths!"
That got appreciative grunts of approval from a few of the others.
Orion bit the inside of his cheek before deciding to be frank with the shithead.
"Better to take your chances in a place where your kids are likely to be shanked in an alley over the food they carry?" He fired back.
"You threatening my chicks?!" Shouted bent beak, who had taken a threatening step forward.
The black colt stood from the wooden box he had chosen to sit on, and his horn burst to life. "I'm about to make you armless. How's that for a threat?!"
That brought broken nose up short.
"Gentledrakes! Please!" Stepped in Friedrich, placing a hand on both of them. "Our chicks are fed, Hans. They are safe." He said softly to Orion's antagonist. Turning to the colt, he spoke sternly. "If no one else shall say it, I will. I am grateful to you for what you have done. I am also ashamed that I could not do it myself." Dropping his arms and stepping back, he continued. "But you are barely into your eighteenth summer, or I am a pickled egg."
Mr. Fallowfeather had been one of those that had helped in restoring and maintaining order once the food had been provided. He was loathed to lie to him.
"Well pickled you be, I'm only fifteen." He snarked but let go of his magic. He remained standing, however.
That got a snort from broken beak.
"And we are supposed to take advice from you?" He said incredulously. "You can stand here and listen to him spout his nonsense, Friedrich. But I won't hear of it." He marched for the door, others following him. Stopping, Hans glanced over his shoulder. "I am grateful. But charity does not make you wise." He left.
The others that followed murmured their own thanks and followed after.
"Yeah, well, knowledge of history, and a healthy understanding of what people who are desperate will do to save themselves, actually does make someone wise." He snorted. "Or at least less idiotic."
"What do you mean…colt?" The older griffon made an effort to use pony vernacular.
"Tell me, if the opportunity to get away with a crime in order to feed yourself or your family were available, would you take it?" Several sets of paws shifted uncomfortably amongst those that had stayed. No one answered, and no one needed to. "Exactly. Desperate times will make monsters of us all."
"I…I cannot dispute that." And uncomfortable silence descended inside the baggage cart.
Friedrich coughed, breaking the atmosphere of dread.
"You said you wanted to give us advice?" He asked, a curious look on his face.
"Yeah." Orion sighed. "Yes, I do. I know you guys got bits on you, or whatever the currency is here. My advice is not to stay in the Griffonstone for more than a day. Buy seeds, and go to one of the abandoned settlements, preferably one with a river running through it."
A thin-faced, almost heron-like, griffon spoke up. "Why? In the city, we are safe."
"You think the guard, which I hear is stretched thin across the nation, is going to be able to protect you from a thief?" The colt asked sarcastically. "If all they do is steal from you, that's just condemning you to suffer starvation. Out at an abandoned town or village, it should be easy to repair, considering most homes are built in the trees."
Most villages near the capital had been built up inside great trees. Bridges are strung across the gaps to connect them all together. Below, a clearing would be created to allow for crops to grow. Many had been abandoned for decades now. But the homes carved into the massive timbers should still be there. They would not have to start from the ground up like a typical frontier homestead.
"I can see your point. But Dieter is right. Why?" Friedrich shrugged. "Sure, there is danger. But that is everywhere these days. So why should we not stay in the city where we can at least stay warm?"
"Gangs, for one." He held up a finger. "But more importantly, number two is the fact that griffons have been running to major cities and towns for years. Food supplies are gonna be strained. Not only will your arrival already threaten to snap that, but fights are gonna break out. Someone is going to get killed."
A long pause.
"So what do you recommend." Orion wanted to sigh in relief. He pulled out three pages he had copied from notes and books he had brought with him. That was all he had time to do the night before, but he hoped that would be enough as it was a brief overview of their next steps. At least it would feed them through the winter.
"I wrote down what you need to do. From crops to finding salt. Also digging an underground storage to preserve food." He handed them over to Friedrich. "There are also notes on making bows and arrows, wooden spears too. Game might have returned to the forest with the abandonment of the settlements. You'll need them."
The notes on bow making hadn't come from his own knowledge, but from a book he had found back in Canterlot. It had been second hand, and old to boot. So it might have become fifth or sixth hand by the time it reached his searching ones.
"Griffon Hunts" had been an interesting read. But he couldn't spare them the book as he still had need of it. Rather he hoped their predatory instincts and the few notes he wrote down as guidance would help them survive.
"My recommendation is simple. Stay together. Grab any seeds you can, and move as soon as possible." He tapped his chin. "Also, once you get there, have people up at night to watch over each other, like guards. Even if all they do is shout a warning, that should drive off any opportunists that may want to take advantage of the situation."
The diminished group looked over the notes with a skeptical eye.
"I'm not sure we can do this," Dieter commented sullenly. "It is a lot to ask our families to do." The thin beaked griffon fixed him with a look. "Why are you so keen on helping us? Up to now, other than a few ponies I have heard about, none of your kind has lifted a feather before. Plus, you're young by your own beak. What does it matter to you what happens to us?"
Orion bit the inside of his cheek. A habit he was finding himself doing more and more as of late.
"I know what it's like to go without. I know what it is like to wonder where my next meal is coming from or if I will even eat at all." He sat down on the wooden box from before. "Those notes, will not make your group profitable. As a town, you'll be entirely on your own with no outside support."
"And as we are now, we are only a drain on the city." Mused Friedrich, who had been quietly going over his writings. "You propose that we strike out on our own, without the assistance of the Crown…."
"Yes, it's a risk. But with a river, you have fresh water and fish available. If you go to one of the settlements that have been abandoned long enough, there should be something to hunt." He reiterated with a sigh. "Your only issue is preserving food. I'd put in a lot of effort into finding a salt mine, or starting one would help."
"How so?"
The only pony in the train cart gestured to the sheets of paper in their hands. "There are instructions on how to cure meat, and the preservation of food is in there, on the last page. Salt can greatly help with that, and the cold weather will double that." He snorted. "And if you guys figure out how to make barrels and manage to start mining salt regularly, that can be your industry."
That got slow nods. "We shall consider it. Thank you, Mr. Falls." The tone in Friedrich's voice said that he understood that it would be a lot more complicated than all that. But understood what he had been trying to do.
They filed out without a word to him, talking quietly among themselves.
Before they had departed the carriage, several griffons had started hauling off the train the barrels he had purchased. That was smart. The crystals had enough power to project that preservation spell for a few more months that he could tell. The pony would have recast that spell, but doing so with a matrix already in place may crack the crystal the original spell would be connected to.
Friedrich had approached Orion and informed him that they planned to go through with his suggestions.
Surprisingly it was the hens that had made the decision. Prioritizing the safety of their children over the city. They had unanimously pushed for the colt's proposed plan, and the drakes had quickly caved.
Well, almost all the drakes.
Hans's group was going to remain in the city, despite some of the arguments they had with their wives.
It was the best he was going to get.
"Good. Make sure to watch out for each other, and go in groups." Orion stuck out a hand. "Good luck, Mr. Fallowfeather."
Grasping his proffered limb with his own, the older griffon grinned. "Thank you, Mr. Falls." Letting go, he turned to his mate, who was still trying to hush Frida's inquiries about foul language. "Heart, we need to go."
Gertrude nodded grimly.
Orion could only chuckle to himself as he watched the family, along with many others who had remained with them, march down the street.
"What…was that about?" The sudden voice of Screaming nearly caused him to leap out of his skin. He wanted to smack himself. He had completely forgotten the young lady was there at all.
"That was just a little side business that I hope they make the most of." He turned to his long-time friend. "Long time no see, featherhead." He laughed at the mild insult. "How's the adopted life treating you?"
Behind Screaming, another hen stood in armor. She seemed to bristle at his words but restrained whatever she was going to say into a glare directed at him.
His friend laughed instead and slapped him lightly in mock indignation. "It's great. How's the orphan's life treating you, hornhead?"
"Eh, can't complain too much." He picked up his bags. One he had to hold in his magic. "Foods better now that I am cooking for myself. You look, well, amazing. Clearly, rich people's food is treating you very well." He grinned as she hit him once again.
"Are you calling me fat!?" He could tell she was not truly angry. A little indignant, but she seemed to absorb his snarky humor in good stride.
"Naw, just seems your body really hung onto the food you ate in all the right places." She blushed heavily, looking down.
A cough drew their attention to the griffon that had been glaring at him. "City guard?" Considering the polish of the armor, she just might be. Though griffon soldiers at outposts he had seen on his way in seemed to make do with battered steel.
"Uh yes, officer? Something we do wrong?" The look he got in response was a bewildered cock to the guard's head, her feathers around her neck fluffed up. Orion had no idea how to read that. But he was going to go on the assumption that he somehow got her position wrong.
"No, Orion." Scream was laughing softly. "That is my personal guard, Gilda Broadwing. She is assigned to my retinue and was chosen to escort me today to meet you here and pick you up."
The colt's gaze swapped back and forth between the pair.
A personal guard? Scream had an entourage? Just who in the hell had adopted her? He shook his head to shake the thoughts away.
"Just how rich are your parents?" He was implying her adoptive parents. "You get adopted by a noble? Or just a super wealthy merchant?" If she were a merchant's daughter, his goals would be far easier to accomplish than he had originally hoped. Otherwise, he was stuck hoping to approach a reasonably well-placed figure as he had planned from the beginning.
His friend blushed and looked away without answering him.
"Just…how high up the social food chain are you, Scream?"
Instead of her answering, her guard, Gilda, chose to respond in her stead.
"Sir, if I may?" He nodded, and she continued. "Lady Grace Fairheart is twelfth in line for the Crown of Griffonia.
"Twelfth in line of rule?!" His eyes bulged. "LADY GRACE FAIRHEART?!"
Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart was the full name of the current ruling monarch of Griffonia. Most only mentioned him as King Bloodbeak.
He gapped at the guard, then at his suddenly very noble friend.
His face must have been hilarious because he got a smirk from Gilda, and giggling from Screaming.
"Um…yes. So it turns out. That my late parents were a part of the Griffonian Royal Line." She said demurely.
"HOW?!" Orion could not help the very bird-like screech in his voice.
"When I was young, my parents were working with a noble family from Equestria. Between them, they were working toward coming up with a solution to my people's destitution."
He had to smile at her word usage. The colt had once remembered Screaming telling him that fancy words like that were for nerds. Clearly, she had joined him in the Kingdom of Nerdom.
She continued.
"During a visit to the border town of Windthrope, on the edge of the Garberithian Mountains, both my parents and the noble ponies they were working with fell victim to the chaos of the food riots there." His smile fell. The news that her family had died attempting to help their people really sucked. That still didn't explain how she ended up in Equestria, or Canterlot for that matter.
"I was really young, barely more than a hatchling when it happened, so I don't remember much." She pawed at the ground. "My parents…were trapped in their carriage by a mob, and had been pushed over the edge of one of the mountain ravines. I was with a guard when it happened."
"Oh…shit. Scre-, I mean, Grace. I'm sorry that happened." He mumbled quietly.
"You can keep calling me Screaming." She responded back, just as quietly.
Gilda coughed again.
"Yes, anyways." She said louder. "During the chaos, my guard lost me in the crowd."
Orion knew the riot she was talking about. It had been highlighted in his history class as a testament to how unreasonable the griffon people could be. And why upstanding ponies shouldn't really interact with native-born griffons. It bothered him greatly that his adoptive race had such a view of other species.
Still, that riot had carried on for over a week. Five thousand souls were lost when the town was eventually burned to the ground. No one knew where or when the fire started, but the blaze consumed most of the carnage that happened in the streets there.
"I take it, by the time you were found, you were already inside Equestria."
"Yes." She nodded vigorously. "An Equestrian guard patrol found me. They gave me the name Screaming Rush…because, well, I was screaming a lot and always trying to run away. Eventually, I was given over to Mrs. Evergarden, and I grew up there. Forgetting who I was entirely."
The depressing tale really brought down the jovial mood. Even her guard's features had fallen from what he suspected was their usual sternness.
"Anyways," she declared in a brighter tone, "I became a nobody. I was too young to really remember much about my parents or who I was." She shrugged. "Till my uncle found me."
By uncle, she meant the current King of Griffonia.
"Holy shit." He muttered quietly. "You little shithead! You never said anything in your letters!" He exclaimed. He would have shaken her, but he had his hands full with the bags clutched tightly in his fists. "This is a pretty big fuckin' brick to drop on someone, for fucks sake!"
"I know, I'm sorry!" She responded, remorse plastered on her beak. Orion had long since given up on trying to figure out how their bills did that.
"Ugh, it's fine. I take it the "uncle" is the King."
"Yes."
"And you stay in the castle halfway up the mountain?" He groaned.
"Yes…" She said, quiet once again.
"Well, daylights a wasting. Let's get going, and you can fill me in." He flexed his hands, already dreading how much stuff he had packed for his trip.
Grace Fairheart was her real name. She had confirmed to him again as they began their journey through the city.
Her parents, the late Lord Egon and Lady Petra Fairheart, had been activists. Giving their time and money in an attempt to improve conditions for the citizens of Griffonia. They were well beloved by the people for their compassion and kindness. Often going beyond normal means to procure food and medicine for the underprivileged of the nation. Their deaths were a catastrophic blow.
The ringleaders of the riot, those that had been apprehended, were executed publicly. Rather barbarically from what Gilda had inputted.
Even now, her parents were honored with vigils celebrating their lives. Many merchants had begun attempting to offer aid to those in need every year on the day of their deaths. In honor of their service to others in life.
Her family's fortunes were much depleted by the time Screaming had returned. Her family's holdings were currently being held by another for some reason, she would not go into it with him. But the way she spoke meant trouble of some sort.
Now she lived on a stipend granted by her uncle, the King, and worked to reclaim her lands as best she could. Red tape and tradition now stood in her way, but she had recently gotten back a small stretch of land to manage on the coast. The reason behind it was vague coming from the griffon, but he surmised it was a test of sorts. He would have to look into local law to see what it was that was tying her up in legalities. Maybe he could help somewhere in there.
Reaching the wide staircase heading up the mountain, he couldn't help but laugh.
"You're like some fairytale fucking princess." He was still reeling at everything she had told him. "No way is that fair. Where in the hell is my crazy noble family looking for my ass?!" It was purely a joke considering his origins, not that any in his company knew much beyond his arrival from Stalliongrad years ago.
"Sir, I would ask you not to swear in the presence of the Lady." Gilda Broadwing barked at him.
"Can it fuck buck. Scream and I both know that's never going to happen. If Celestia can't make me stop, what makes you think you can?" The hen guard just glared angrily back at him.
"Wait," his friend had a very puzzled look on her face, "Orion, you sound as if you actually know the Princess."
It was his turn to grimace and turn away. They had been walking slowly up a mountain of stairs and had stopped at the first landing to take a break. From his vantage, he could see the rugged castle built high on the sheer cliff face. His legs were starting to hurt.
"Wait, you actually know the Princess?!" Scream exclaimed, shock on her face.
"Well... it's a really funny story. Heh, heh."
Screaming was having a difficult time processing what she was hearing. He, in the seven years they had only been writing, had met and yelled at a princess. No, not just any princess.
THE Princess.
"Wait, why were you even in front of the Princess to begin with?" That got her a sheepish explanation of what he had done on a certain fall afternoon in his school. Her own guard had stopped and just stared at him. How does one even beat someone else with another? It didn't seem possible.
It got even more bizarre when he recounted his punishment, and what had transpired on his second night in the town of Ponyville.
Grace Fairheart was more than a little in awe of him.
Her friend had gone from a nerdy, geeky geek that stayed largely indoors studying books when not working out, to a capable warrior that could take on a pair of timberwolves on his own in the span of a few years.
Her own guard's face mirrored her own. But there was grudging respect in her eyes.
Looking up to the number of stairs they had to traverse, she asked her friend if he had ever figured out how to teleport.
His response was not in their favor, sadly.
Gilda didn't know what to make of the stallion. Technically he was a colt but with that look, build, and if his tale is true, his talents placed him high and above the jackasses that sometimes visited from the pony nation.
When she was given her assignment that day, she had mentally prepared herself for a long and boring duty making sure Lady Fairheart would be safe.
Instead, she found herself enthralled with the tales of his exploits. He was certainly no unicorn she had ever heard of. She wanted to laugh when he spoke of using the chick of Blueblood as a weapon against the others.
She had met the arrogant stallion only once during a state visit assigned to him by his "Aunty".
The hatchling, as that was the only way to describe the pony, had been utterly insufferable to guard during his time there. Making impossible demands, and crying when those demands were not met.
The image conjured into her mind when his own offspring had hit him had been hilarious, and it was all she could do not to break discipline.
When the Lady's questions turned to what he had done down in the village of Ponyville, Gilda had been stunned but skeptical. Timberwolves were not found in Griffonia, but tales did carry across the land, usually between troops. The stories told of frightening, mindless creatures that berserked upon their prey, leaving homes in ruins and blood in their wake.
Those the pony forces had managed to engage had been extraordinarily difficult to put down. Equestrian troops chose to smother their savage enemy with magic and arrows till dead.
For this, Orion, to do so on his own showed two things if his statements were to be believed.
First and foremost, at his age, he was extremely lucky. His body, while developed as it was, was still young. The muscle needed for true strength had yet to be reached.
The second point was his ability to kill. He was barely a fledgling. Yet, he had determined to fight to the bitter end despite the odds against him.
Gilda had known ponies. Fought them and worked alongside them.
In her assessment, she found them to be lacking in commitment. They gave up far easier than any of her own people she had met. They relied too much on the organization of their betters and were often caught in daydreams. Or napping, as one unfortunate pony had discovered much too late just how bad an idea that was.
She shook her head. Those days were behind her now.
The Sergeant checked her gear at one landing halfway to their destination, thinking of what her King had told her that very morning.
"You. You are assigned to take my niece to the train station. Are you not?"
His weighted and somewhat gravelly voice always seemed to make her stand straighter. As if his words were meant to shore up the nest of her heart.
"Yes, my King. I was given my assignment yesterday evening and have made preparations." She replied swiftly. King Sigurd Bloodbeak was not a drake that liked wasting time on embellishments and long-winded explanations. Quick and to the point.
"Have you been informed of the contents of this mission?" He spoke softly.
"I have been informed that we are receiving a visitor. A pony visitor. A friend of her Ladyship from when she was still in Equestria."
Suspicions spoken in hushed voices in darkened corners of the castle said that the Equestrian Princess, Celestia, knew Lady Grace had been within her borders. Her very city. If those rumors were to be believed, then the mare had done nothing to inform Griffonia's King of that knowledge. That galled and left bitterness on the tongue of those who gave voice to those words.
"Yes…his name is Orion Falls." He said into the silence of his study, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. He shifted and fixed her with a stern look. "I am giving you additional instructions."
His golden-eyed gaze held her tighter than any chain. Those eyes had freed her too, so long ago. Now they were new shackles, comfortable ones.
"I await your orders, my King." She said solemnly.
"Watch him." A puzzled look must have crossed her face, for he chuckled before continuing. "I've had my Eyes and Ears on him for some time. Since his encounter with my agents the day Grace returned to us."
Gilda suppressed a shudder. The Eyes were little more than assassins. However, their ability to infiltrate societies around the world and remain discrete had given rise to a branch of Watchers.
Her singular encounter with them had left her alive. One of a handful to do so.
"His…journey through this world is an interesting one. He is not all he seems. Observe his interactions with my niece. Note what he says. And should he attempt anything untoward…." Her King left the end of that sentence unspoken, but it was as clear as the sky what he implied.
"It will be as you command, my King."
Watching and more importantly, listening, she was reminded of what her King had said about hidden natures.
As they climbed higher, she realized something with stark clarity.
In his tales, he painted himself as a bumbling fool. Someone only lucky or had happened to be pushed too far. His laughter was genuine, but the look on his face was not.
There was too much careful thought into what he said, as if he had planned for these questions and had already set up answers to inquiries he knew had been coming. The question was, what was he hiding? What details were left in the gloom of the forest floor of his history?
When her King had told her to be prepared to kill him, she had known what he had been implying. The more she listened and sifted through the information, she realized that he might very well be capable of killing her instead, with or without a weapon.
Should Gilda have had to go through with it, she would be able to buy the time needed for the castle garrison to fall on him like a hammer before he got close to her charge. However, she also knew that he was not going to be a danger. There was a respectful air about him, and despite the mask he wore, there was true affection in his gaze for Grace. Whether that affection was love was another matter entirely.
And he bore a strong moral code. A willingness to defend the weak. Despite his vulgarity, His Majesty would appreciate that honor within him.
Arriving at the castle proper, the portcullis was already raised.
In Equestria, he always had to wait for the guards to raise them. Here he was blessed to see that wouldn't be a problem, which was good, as his legs were currently threatening to go on strike on him.
"God, I wish I could fucking teleport!"
As they passed under them, he mused in a less agonized portion of his mind that it made sense for them to be up.
Most citizens here could fly competently. What was the point if potential foes could simply pop over the walls with a flap of the wings? If anything, leaving the portcullis up would provide a path of least resistance for a force looking to conserve their strength for the fight ahead.
Looking up, he could see arrow slits dotting the walls on either side of a large courtyard. Smart. The open gate would funnel enemy forces into the courtyard, only to quite literally be feathered before they could escape.
"Even if they managed to make it to the steps, archers deployed on top of the walls-" He shook his head back and forth. The hell was he doing? First of all, Never in his life had he ever considered the military advantages of an open anything. Much less castle warfare. Secondly, their brief and short jaunt through the city had shown him all he had needed to know about the possibility of an army of peasants rising up.
He frowned sadly.
The people Orion had seen were broken. Huddled in the shade of alleyways, begging for scraps. Fighting over those few scraps that could be found. He had spotted several children hiding in the darkness behind their parents.
His original thoughts on the state of Griffonstone were correct. The place was teeming with undirected violence and destitution.
They didn't have the strength to throw down their ruling class.
Likely the reason for the portcullis being up was simply easier for the guards to traverse past the walls themselves.
Two guards, in chainmail, swooped in to flank them as they made it past the guard checkpoint. Covering their mail, was a breast coat that came just shy of the plate mail knees. Red, with gold stitching of a fanciful heart, decorated the right breast.
"Fancy." He thought wryly.
His eye spotted Gilda slipping into a fortified door to the side.
Since stepping off the train, he had kept his radar tuned up so he could sense more than he could see.
After so many years with it, and its various incarnations before, he had learned to notice more than just the shapes around him.
Every look, every stop in adjusting her armor when he was speaking had been noted by him. She was more than a guard, and when she had tried to slide away unseen with the arrival of the other two, he had not been surprised.
Screaming had been no distraction for him. Despite the myriad of questions and reprimands she had directed at him, so he had been able to watch the guard carefully.
Their eyes met, and Gilda gave a start of surprise before closing the door behind herself.
"Well, there is nothing I can do about that." He lamented. Considering who his friend actually was, it wasn't really out of reason for them to be placing a watch of sorts on him.
Turning his attention back to the castle. He took it in.
From the city, it had looked rugged then. Now within its walls, he found that rugged simplicity somehow beautiful in its own right.
The fortress was just that. This was no castle to receive guests and display the grandeur of the kingdom. This was a place built entirely to wage war and survive a siege.
As they climbed up the many stairs, he saw that the structure was hewn from the rock and stone of the mountain itself. Its position on the face of the sheer cliff left little room for the average blockade a normal armed force would wage.
For one, there was only one real entrance into the fortress itself, that of the stairs they had traveled and the road paired with it. However, that was meant for carts and carriages and made a far more winding track up the mountain itself.
The outer walls were as sheer as the cliffs they were carved from, allowing for no real purchase other than the top. Archer slits dotted the surface in regular intervals. Vast banners of red and gold hung from the edges. The same emblem on the guard's breastplate was upon those banners, a heart with leaves draped about it stitched in gold.
Inside mirrored the same. Even the corridors were planned to be a death trap for any invading force. Choke points, grates above certain sections of intersecting halls. More archer slits, as well as holes in the wall he could only think, were meant for spear points to be rammed through.
Whoever had designed this castle, wanted any enemy ballsy enough to break in to pay for it every step of the way.
Stepping into the castle keep, he saw halls that went straight into the mountain itself as well. Their ends only lit by fire.
"Huh, more to this place than just the fortress…." He mused.
Braziers were lit and illuminated their path as they ascended stairs, moved down passages, and crossed an open courtyard that bore a rather beautiful indoor garden.
"Wow, never expected to see a garden here inside a castle like this." He murmured out loud.
"Queen Gabriele enjoys flowers greatly, and has worked very hard to maintain this courtyard as best she has." Said a voice to their left. He had known a griffon was there but had not expected an answer from them.
Turning, Orion found himself looking at a stork. Thin and in a black doublet with the house emblem stitched on his right breast, the bird-cat looked dry. As if all humor had been squeezed out of him.
He was certainly older than himself, though one could only see it from the way the eyes were set and the whitening of his bill.
Deciding not to be rude, Orion spoke. "Wait, the Queen herself does all the work in here?" He asked, surprised.
"Yes, Queen Gabriele is loath to let others touch this place." Even his smile was dry. "She once chased out the palace greenskeeper with a shovel." He chortled. "The hen had wanted to plant a tree within the southeast corner and had already started digging a hole when Her Majesty had wandered in to enjoy her efforts."
Screaming giggled. She had been strangely silent since their arrival inside the castle.
"Jesus, hope they got away. Being brained with a shovel freakin' hurts." He winced in sympathy.
When he was thirteen, he had been harassing Michael Thompson, a nerdy kid who was in his science class. Orion had been using the science class equipment in an attempt to make TNT, and Michael had ratted him out to the principal.
His suspension had gotten the usual disappointment that his grandparents directed toward him whenever he fucked up. In retaliation, he had gone after the nerd late in the afternoon when he had spotted him in his parent's yard.
What happened turned out to be very unfortunate for Orion.
The kid had done two things when he leaped the fence and charged Michael. First and foremost, he pissed himself. Secondly, he fell backwards, hitting the handle of a shovel on his way down. That piece of gardening equipment came around and smacked upside Orion's head, knocking him out cold.
Perhaps that had been karma trying to drive a point home. It could have been God protecting one of his own.
In either case, Michael soon spread the tale of how he had walloped him good. With the shovel mark still visible on his face the next day, he had become the target of mocking from students and adults alike.
It had taken two years before the shovel incident wasn't brought up daily.
"I am sure." The stork-cat said slowly. "In this case, the greenskeeper had managed only to make it as far as two halls before the Queen was upon her."
"Ouch." If she did that for a simple palace worker, he did not want to know what she would do to him.
"Note to self, don't fuck with the Queen. Like, at all." Clearing his throat, Orion changed the subject.
"Not to sound rude, but who are you, dude?" The question made stork blink owlishly before giving a start.
"I apologize, Mr. Falls. I am Eberhard Lonelycall." He swept a stiff bow. "You are Orion Falls, Lady Fairheart's guest, yes?"
"Uh, yeah. No need to be so formal around me." It was a surprise for him to feel embarrassed, but in truth, he was not used to the difference this griffon was displaying toward him.
Orion didn't like it.
"Nope, never become a noble of any type."
"As you wish, sir." Eberhard righted himself. "I should inform you I am also Lady Fairheart's Steward of her house's Diener."
"Um, what? The hell is a "Diener"?" Was that the title for a servant of sorts?
"Oh, forgive me. Servants." He sighed regretfully. "Sadly, at the moment, we only have two in her employ, but I hope to add to that number as her fortunes grow." The steward gave a small smile to Screaming.
"I told you, Mr. Lonelycall, I have no desire to have the same amount of land that my parents once had." There was a fair bit of sadness in that tone.
"And I told you, my Lady, that a few more servants do not equate to needing the vast territories your sire once held." The stork fidgeted with his doublet briefly before huffing. "Though you should be at least given the respect your position is due, not the scathing remarks of your rearing I've been hearing in the halls whenever Duchess-"
"We don't need to talk about that!" Screaming interrupted him quickly, but Orion's curiosity was plucked.
"Someone is talking shit about Screaming?" He had not realized how heated he had suddenly gotten, his voice heavy with malice.
"It's nothing!" She cried, but the black colt wasn't looking at her, his gaze fixed squarely on the unflappable visage of Eberhard.
"Yes. Lady Margarete Rosebreast. She currently holds a great deal of Lady Fairheart's land. Well, her sire's lands. I believe the reason for her attacks on her image is due in large part to keeping those holdings to herself." He finished quickly, all while delicately fending off his Lady's attempts to silence him.
"Shit." This is complicated. Orion's eyes darted back and forth as he thought.
"Are any others also in on this?" He asked slowly.
"No. Though Lady Rosebreast has made efforts to include at least three other houses in her attacks." He gave a thin-lipped smile.
That meant someone powerful was blocking the bitch's efforts.
"Wait. Why bother at all? Scream is a small fish in the pond. She's sticking to the reeds, isn't she?" The steward thought for a moment before nodding. "Then what is the point?"
"Ah, I can see that you are not aware of certain issues," Eberhard remarked softly.
"Dude, until this morning, I had no idea she was royalty. Spill." He folded his arms and waited.
His friend huffed loudly and marched over to a bench before plopping her rear down, glaring balefully at them.
"I will, but I do have a question. The word you have used twice now, "Dude," what is its meaning?" With his thin frame, Screaming's lead butler's neck cocking to one side made Orion wince internally. A neck was just not supposed to bend like that.
"Dude is slang. It…well, it kinda acts like a replacement for when I refer to someone, typically another male."
"Ah, very good. I shall not use it for myself, but I find it good to keep up with and understand trends. Both abroad as well as at home." He smiled. "Now, the reason for Lady Rosebreast's antagonism is rather simple for those aware of certain laws and history. You may wish to take a seat yourself. I fear this is not a short subject." He gestured to a set of iron patio furniture, complete with a parasol centered on the table.
Screaming was sulking with a teacup in hand. A servant had entered in silently and now stood behind her with a pitcher. On the table were two more teacups, filled with a steaming, deep black liquid. Orion sat himself down and took a sip. His eyes shot wide open in surprise. It was coffee. Really good coffee. How had they known? He pocketed the question for later pondering and gestured for Eberhard, who had taken a seat himself, to start.
Taking a drink for himself, the steward sighed. "It is not often I get to enjoy Tremika Coffee. So I thank you for coming to visit my Lady." He chuckled deeply.
"Now, this shall be a sensitive subject, I'm afraid, but I will endeavor to be delicate." He gave an apologetic look to Screaming, who had pulled up a chair of her own but had remained quiet till then.
"It's fine, Mr. Lonelycall. Orion actually loves this stuff. Go ahead." By the look on her face, it was not fine.
"A student of history? Excellent! It is not often I have such a willing audience." Turning back to Orion, he began. "I will start with our distant history, so you have an understanding of why this particular law was put into place. In our nation's rather tumultuous past, events often create laws to protect against certain incidents from reoccurring."
Orion simply nodded in agreement. That was how most laws were created, in hindsight.
"In this particular instance, during the years that rulership was divided in an institution much like the parliament you now have in Equestria, it was an attempt to keep assets from falling out of the families' hands."
"Huh, no king at the time?"
"No. The reasoning during that period had been that no one person should have that much power over others. In essence, the nobles banded together for security but did not trust one or the other to take the next step." His wings ruffled. "It was also the reason so much infighting happened. Without a king to stand as a mediator, many squabbles and supposed slights devolved into outright conflict. Even war." He paused to take a sip, murmuring more approval.
Orion had already drained his during the history lesson while his mind worked over the information. A thought struck him.
"I take it…that because of these constant fights, it was decided unanimously to call for a convention of sorts to elect a king after all."
The stork steward bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes! Very good, sir. But, it wasn't just the constant conflict. There were two other factors that played a major role in altering my nation's path. Can you guess what they are?" He asked excitedly.
Orion snorted. "My guy, you should have been a teacher or a historian." He thumbed his chin in thought.
"At one point in my life, I was both. Well, I suppose I am still a historian even in my role now." He clucked.
"No shit?" The steward's bill wrinkled a little bit. "Sorry. Mrs. Evergarden says I have a tongue like stone. Rough and out of place. Anyways, the one I'm positive about is Equestria must have formed around that time. The other…uhhhh…nope got nothing."
"You are mostly correct. Equestria was involved. More specifically, it was during the expansion of that nation that made the nobles halt their bickering and pay attention. The diarchy of the time proved that a singular source of authority and power were worthwhile considerations. They solved issues, settled disputes, acted quickly in the defense of their people."
"The benefits started outweighing the risks in their minds." That got another nod of approval. "What was the other? What other problem for you guys existed to alter history like that?"
"Why, the Empire of Crystal to the far north, of course." Eberhard cocked his head. "Your instructions cover the Empire?"
"Yes. But that was a brief one-week lesson. The birth of Crystagraphy actually started there. Most of my lessons covered their skills and history. They kind of disappeared almost fifteen hundred years ago or so though, and I never could find out why." He finished to a very surprised Mr. Lonelycall.
"It is true that they developed that particular branch of magic. I suppose ponies would not want their descendants to know…."
"Know what?" Orion asked, leaning forward.
"It was the true reason why Griffonia had decided to raise a monarch of their own. Equestria and the Empire of Crystal were at war with one another. A truly violent and bloody affair, the conclusion of which was the sudden disappearance of the northern nation itself." This was intriguing.
"Was there a reason for it? Or were they just beating the hell out of each other for the sake of it?"
"No, there was a reason. A grave accusation." Eberhard shook his head. "The Diarchy of Equestria accused Consort Sombra Darkstone of the crime of murder, and practicing Umbrian magics."
"Never heard of that."
"I suppose that might be wise of your Princess. The Umbrian cult was not a very distinguished group." He took another sip of his coffee and continued. "I'm afraid we have gotten far afield in our conversation. If you would like to know more, the keep's library has records on it."
"I think I'll do that. Now, about that law?" Orion was beginning to get Twilight vibes from the griffon. Though he was much more controlled.
"Ah, yes. My apologies. As to the law, it was common in the days before a king that certain nobles would attempt to capture or kill one another. A truly terrible time. Occasionally, an entire bloodline would be erased through murder and intrigue. Their lands would be absorbed into the others, their wealth distributed." He smiled ruefully. "And sometimes, a once thought dead noble, would resurface."
The colt was starting to get the picture. "Creating a very nasty complication." He frowned. "But let's be real, what would it matter? All their stuff has been taken at that point. There is no leverage for them to get their land and titles back."
"This is true, and for a time, they were happy with that." Eberhard raised a finger and leaned forward. "Till they weren't. Lord Otto Stoutbeak realized it could very well happen to him, and decided that just wouldn't do." He chortled to himself.
"Of course, the rich and influential are just covering their asses." He groaned in response.
"Yes indeed." Settling himself, the steward fixed him with an appraising look. "You have a keen understanding of the path of history. I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's mostly my understanding of a few key similarities everyone seems to have. Selfishness, greed, and hunger for power." Orion replied.
"Very true. Chief among those is greed. To continue, Lord Stoutbeak, worried for his own wealth and influence, approached others of his rank and convinced them of the danger. Records are incomplete of that time, but it is supposed there were rumors of an attempt on his own life that was coming."
"And the law they came up with?"
"The law, The Otto Accords, is a series of laws meant to protect a noble from the loss of their possessions and holdings. In essence, should a noble or their family disappear in either assassination or some other unfortunate event, the nearest kin must be sought out. If no relative is found, then the process of transfer is begun." He gestured to Screaming for the first time since this conversation began. "In the Lady's case, one of the provisions in the Accords is that a time of no more than fifteen to twenty-five years shall be allowed to find a relative."
"Holy hell…Wait, why is Rosebreast in control of her property? It's not even been fifteen years. Shouldn’t she have had her lands returned to her by now?"
"Another law within the Accords, I'm afraid. During the time when a land is not claimed, an Attendant of the Land is elected to manage the territory. They also contribute a large sum of their own to maintaining it. Should no heir be found, the land will go to the Attendant." He shrugged uncomfortably. "There is another issue. If that heir, is found incompetent, they are subject to the Forfeiture of Land clause."
"That's why that bitch is slandering her. To keep a hold of the land for herself." Orion concluded, biting his cheek in thought. "What would be the reason she would want to fight so hard to keep it?"
"Ah, now we have gotten to the crux of the matter. The reason Lady Rosebreast is so keen on keeping the land is that it places her fourth in line for the throne. If she were to lose it, she would fall back to the eighth position."
"Ranking is based on the size of the land?" He asked incredulously.
"No, on what is in the land. In this case, Lady Fairheart's family land covers the coast, leading from the capital to the northeasternmost edge. Roughly. It is wealthy and seeded with natural resources. But it is undeveloped. It has remained so during Lady Rosebreast's Attendantancy, as she could not put forth the coin to improve or develop the resources into something to gain." His eyes narrowed. "However, she has expended a great deal of wealth in surveying the territory. She is making plans…."
In the lull of the moment, while Eberhard settled himself and drinks were refilled, Orion thought out the issue. His eyes widened.
"This isn't just about land, is it? Whose before her in the line for succession?" He asked.
A hard look washed over the steward's features. It seemed the griffon servant had already concluded what the colt had suspected. "After King Fairheart is his wife, Queen Gabriele Fairheart, then their only son, Prince Gerhard Fairheart."
"Shit. She's planning a murder if she can get away with it, isn’t she? But first, she has to remove Scream from the equation, and rather than set a precedent, the bitch is trying to get her dismissed entirely without bloodshed." Screaming's face was downcast.
She hadn't wanted him to know. That's why she had made a fuss at first. But something wasn't adding up.
"You led us into this conversation. Why?"
Orion watched as the steward and Lady shared a look before Eberhard turned to him and spoke.
"Because your presence creates a complication, Mr. Falls. If she is seen being favored by anyone from Equestria, that will make her less capable in the eyes of griffon nobility. You may already know this, but your kind is not well favored here in Griffonia. Many see your nation as the source of a great many issues."
"But I'm just an orphan." He retorted with a grimace. "The hell does my being here matter?"
"It won't matter." Screaming finally spoke up. "Lady Rosebreast has already raised a fit over the fact that I messaged anyone from Equestria at all." She took a breath. "The land is mine. I even have the right to move through it without challenge. Do what I can to improve the lives there if I am able. But she is still the Attendant. Until a tribunal rules who claims it, we are both stuck with our claws in it, waiting for the other to flinch."
"So telling me…."
"Is informing you of the mire you have placed yourself in." Eberhard resumed. "It will help greatly if some of the claims the Lady has made about you prove true." He smirked. "Is it true that you eat meat like a griffon?"
Orion laughed. "Yeah, and she has told me all about the various meat dishes available here." He grinned. "You have a brisket I am dying to try."
As the conversation turned to lighter things, the man turned colt could not help but consider the political hellscape he had wandered into.
The plan to sell ideas to a merchant was no longer feasible. Anything he did would be noticed immediately, and with Screaming's current standing within her own kingdom, it might even be detrimental in the long run.
There had to be another way.
It was mid-afternoon before Eberhard found himself without the surprisingly pleasant, if a little rough, company of Mr. Falls.
From the Eyes and Ears reports, he had painted the colt in his mind as a rather disagreeable fellow. To see that his and the Listener's assumptions were wrong was one thing he was glad of.
He chuckled. The King had been correct, and they were all fools for watching his actions too closely.
Orion Falls's ability to quickly grasp what he had stumbled into was also to be noted. Somehow, and for whatever reason, the colt had immediately picked up on the tension within the kingdom. Even going so far as to correctly assume that Lady Rosebreast may be planning an assassination.
The Duchess was, in fact, planning such an event according to reports that could be gathered. However, they knew not what manner or when just yet. The fact that she had a good reason, though grossly selfish in its conception, to push for regime change so violently was also understood, even if he thought it misguided.
King Sigurd Fairheart's ruling line had been disastrous for the griffon kingdom for centuries. Only Sigurd himself has shown any promise, as the stalwart monarch has worked furiously to right the winds of the failing nation.
With the history of his line as an example, Lady Rosebreast has driven a wedge between the King and the rest of the ruling class. Hosting parties and balls, seeding doubts about his leadership and the next in line for the throne capability. In recent years, she had redoubled her efforts to swat the nobility in her favor when Lady Grace Fairheart returned to them.
With the arrival of Eberhard's charge, the hen now felt threatened. If she were to lose the wealth she was sitting on now, her push for ruling the nation herself would be for naught as her position would slide back, and she would no longer be a viable candidate for succession.
Informing Mr. Falls was only a means to ensure he at least attempts to maintain good behavior during his visit.
He sighed. The old griffon missed the days when he was young and could bury himself in the pages of history. Those days were sadly behind him.
"Master Listener."
Eberhard Lonelycall nearly soared out of his own feathers. Turning quickly, he scowled at the lone griffon hen dressed in the black of her division. Eyes were capable of being discrete and clever, but for whatever reason, incapable of keeping their beaks shut within the open halls of the castle with a Listener present.
"Yes, Eye." He hissed vexedly. The Eyes' names are cast away during their service. To protect their family as well as themselves.
"His Majesty requires your presence." He grunted. Eberhard had expected this, and with how quickly the Eye had approached him, the King may have been waiting. That just wouldn't do.
"I hear and see. You are dismissed, Eye." Formally dismissing the agent, he moved down the hall quickly.
It didn't take him long before he arrived at the King's royal study. By now, the iron-bound door of dark heavy wood was a familiar sight, and he pushed it open without knocking.
A Listener need not knock, even with the King.
"Your Majesty." He said solemnly, closing the door and making a small bow.
Sigurd Fairheart turned and regarded the agent. He was not a small griffon, nor was he a towering mass of muscles. The monarch was still an intimidating presence to those who erred against him. Even those closest found his bluff features unnerving rather than comforting. However, that has never been his intention.
Heavy the burdens have been that weighed on the golden brown brow and shoulders of his Lordship. Eberhard and his fellowship have worked nearly as tirelessly to reduce the pressure as much as possible.
"Report, if you would please, Listener." His beak quirked into a small smile. They had known each other since they were hatchlings, and Sigurd always enjoyed tweaking his old friend's bill as much as possible.
No one would expect the rough-looking monarch to have such humor.
"It is as you expected, old friend."
He spoke simply, standing to his full height and walking to peer out the window. The window faced west toward where Prince Gerhard was engaging with a small force against bandits who had taken advantage of the kingdom's reduced capacity for their own defense.
"Oh?" Sigurd cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes, you were right. He is far more than just some brute with good grades. I am truly surprised the ponies produced someone like him, considering their pension for weaker-willed males." Eberhard said dryly.
"It's not so much a desire for them to be weaker, it is more of a necessity to protect what they have. Pampered stallions are merely a result of their policy for preservation." His Majesty turned his gaze back to the window. "Well?"
The Listener knew what he meant. And he began to recount what he had learned and seen to his ruler.
To his friend.
"It is as much as I expected then." He said, nodding his head in consideration. "Between you and Gilda, I feel I have an accurate picture of the drake."
Eberhard cocked his head.
"Drake, my Lord? Him?"
Sigurd chuckled and stepped around his desk to sit down. "Oh yes, anyone that can kill a Timberwolf on his own and fend off another through sheer intimidation is a drake to me." He shook his head. "I had encountered one of those filthy creatures years ago when one found its way over the mountains somehow. Fought like a cornered manticore, but worse. Tore through a fair amount of my troops before we managed to pin it down and destroy it."
"It could have been luck, your Grace." That is what the Listener said, but he had a contemplative look upon his beak.
"I'm sure a fair bit of that was indeed luck. But tell me, do you know of a griffon capable of punching with enough force to break into a ribcage?" The King leaned forward, snatching a goblet of spice wine that had long lost the warmth it had been poured with.
"Only two. One is you yourself." He paused. "I see your point, your Highness. What are your orders, sire."
Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart contemplated that for a moment. If he received the colt in the Hall of Battles, it would be seen by the nobles as him bending his knee to that fop Celestia. Even if Orion had never encountered the mare, it would still be observed as a weakness. And this fool was a friend to her student.
If he ignored him and let him run about his palace without so much as a glance, it would be much the same. Too many spies were in the employ of other houses.
The simple and direct way would be to meet him here. No honor coming to his study, and no one to overhear their conversation.
"Instruct a servant you trust to call him here. Too many suspect your position as it is, so I would rather it be someone else seen calling on him."
Eberhard nodded in agreement. "That may be wise, sire. If some Eyes and Ears learned to have tighter beaks, maybe this wouldn't be an issue." He muttered that last almost under his breath which drew a bark of laughter from him.
"Not like it was back in your day, sadly. They are young yet. They shall learn, my friend." He stilled his humor. "See it done. I want to see him tonight."
"As you will it, your Majesty." The Watcher gave a quick bow and left, leaving Sigurd to consider how he was to deal with the pony complication that his niece brought to his nest.
No one had believed the colt would have taken her up on the offer. Even with Grace going so far as to pay for his journey herself, did the idea of Orion Falls coming to Griffonia have ever been a possibility in the minds of himself or his staff.
Just what trouble would he get into while here?
"Okay, bored now." Orion tossed the book of notes he had brought with him onto the bed in frustration.
Screaming had to leave him after he had been shown to his room. The poor griffoness had duties now, though she was vague about what.
This is what he got for arriving without giving her a heads up. He turned and looked out the single window in his room. The city below stretched before him. At this height, no one could see the destitution that packed the alleyways, spilling out onto the streets in various places as shanty towns.
The notes called to him again. On the way up on the train, he had read and reread those pages till he had them practically memorized.
One of the first things he noted was that the nation of Griffonia didn't have any kind of long-term preservation of food available. No grain silos. No cold vaults or ice distribution systems to keep meat cold for long periods of time. The nation spent gold shipping in food year-round at a deficit.
Orion's original plan had been to sell the ideas for food keeping, along with a bunch of other things more aligned with factory production, to a merchant that may best make use of it. He was going to make a pretty bit on the deal and then turn around and donate it to a local charity here in Griffonia.
The current state of the kingdom made that impossible. His brief and gentle probing at Eberhard Lonelycall about the mercantile business turned up very bleak prospects. Most of the merchants in the nation had been co-opted by the government into emergency goods distribution.
This little experiment in nation-building was dead before he even left Equestria. Unless he changed the rules, he tapped his lips with a finger in thought.
A knock at the door brought him from his thoughts, the satchel, and book of notes flying in his magic to him.
"Yeah?" Not the most sophisticated of greetings.
"His Majesty, King Sigurd Fairheart has called to meet you." A lilting feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door. One thing he had expected since finding out just who Screaming really was. Though maybe not this soon.
Stuffing the book inside and slinging the satchel over his shoulder, Orion was not about to part with something that would damn him. He pulled the door open and was met with air.
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry, sir, down here!" Came the same voice, only slightly squeaky. Looking down, he spotted the most adorable sight.
There, before him, was a griffon hen in a maid outfit. A tiny griffon hen, she barely passed his waist. She stared up at him with wide green eyes.
"They said that you were tall…." She murmured.
He wanted to crack a joke about "perfect heights" and "handlebars," but he refrained. Those feathers that were bunched into the facsimile of pigtails on her head just made the brown and gold griffon even more adorable.
"I eat my veggies." Is all he said.
"I'm sure. Listen, this is my second day, and I don't wanna get fired. The King has called for your attendance. I'd hop too if I were you. A guard awaits you at the entrance to the resident quarters." The maid huffed and stalked off. Tiny tail lashing in agitation.
"The hell was that about?" He laughed.
Walking down the hall in the direction Miss Huffy went, his hand drifted to his satchel. Weariness washed over him as he realized, with sinking clarity that he would have to goad another monarch just to see how they would react. He hoped feverishly that this one couldn't turn into a sun.
"You will speak only when spoken to." Came the droning voice of his escort as they made their way together into the royal wing of the castle.
He had not stopped giving instructions since they headed off to see the King.
"If he rises, you will stand straighter. If his gaze leaves you, spread your fingers and raise your hands slightly." He continued, his helmet muffling his voice. "Do not raise your voice to his Majesty. Do-"
"Yeah, yeah. "Don't move quickly when gesturing". Blah blah blah." The soldier's head turned sharply at him. "Dude, I'm not an assassin. Shut up already."
Turning quickly, the guard made to grab him, and he flowed out of his reach, then around the griffon entirely.
"Listen, featherbrain, I don't care enough about your country to even meet your reigning king. Much less attempt to kill him. You've patted me down six times, and the only thing I have on me that might be a weapon is my horn. I do not like the idea of getting blood on my face. Let's just get this over with so I can go back to figuring out something to do while I stay here."
He really should get a handle on his anger.
The soldier's clawed hand on the spear they carried tightened as he shook visibly.
Suddenly, he relaxed with a slight huff and marched past him. Stopping in front of a simple iron-bound door of darkened wood.
"Christ, Orion, you could have just kept your temper for five more seconds." He groaned inwardly.
His unnamed escort made a loud, but somehow respectful knock with his fist.
"COME." Barked a low voice. The echo of it seemed to carry down the halls. He swallowed hard. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to piss this one off.
"Enter." The guard said, his voice strained. "Remember, respect."
Orion squared his shoulders and marched in behind the griffon who had brought him here.
Author's Note
And here it is! Chapter 20!
I am so sorry for how late this has been, and for the delay from last week. As I have said before work has been kicking my ass something fierce so I do not have the free time I normally would to write.
But the winds are changing, and I am finding quite a lot of inspiration at night after my editor goes to bed.
So without further dragging on, enjoy!
Thanks for Reading, Peace!
P.S. Please give a comment! I love reading them.
Pinpricks and a Gamble
Despite the time of year and the position of the sun high, close to noon, the temperature was pleasant. Not too warm and not too cool.
From what Orion had read, winters could be rather harsh for the northern nation of Griffonia. But that also meant that the country had a more moderate climate come the summer. He was all for it. Canterlot, despite its elevation on the side of the mountain it was home to, felt like the devil's asscrack during the summer.
Even Ponyville was somehow cooler than the capital of Equestria. It was maddening.
Scream raced ahead of him to one of the glassmaker shops in the more wealthy quarters of the city, bouncing in excitement as she waved an arm at him in an attempt to get his eyes on a particularly stunning example of craftsmanship.
He was surprised. Not by the multicolored lead window pane, she was pointing to, but by the size of the city itself.
Orion had initially believed Griffonstone was much smaller than even Manehattan. From his vantage point coming into the city, he could really only see so much. Now, as Screaming had dragged him from place to place over the past couple of days, he found that the mountain held more than one could see from ground level.
The castle itself sat atop one end of what he was calling a mountain cul de sac. The roots of the mountain rising high on either side of the capital, hemming it in. What he had yet to see was on the east range. The mountain had been carved away to allow the richer sections to sit above the common stores and shops below in the valley.
Once it had been pointed out to him, he could easily see it. No matter where they went in the city, they had a great vantage of the valley below. They stood in one of the richer neighborhoods that held their own stores and shops separate from the common griffon.
"Potatoes, most certainly." He mused to himself. "I wonder what else will grow up here? Onions?"
The past few days had been both fun and trying.
First, his popularity with the soldiers had steadily increased to the point where yesterday, at the bum fuck hour of zero dark stupid, he had been roused from his bed by a squad of griffons and dragged outside.
Had he been truly awake, he would have told them to fuck off. Instead, in a half-awake state, he was prodded into an obstacle course that he fully woke up to halfway in.
Needless to say, he was pissed but had to laugh about it.
Apparently, one of them had seen him working out by himself on the castle ground set aside for military training. A vote, that he had not been part of, had been cast, and now Orion was being volunteered to exercise with them.
They had spared him this morning.
Screaming's responsibilities had kept her from spending time with him most mornings. In fact, this was the first time in the four days since his arrival that she had time to spend the full day with him.
The truly frustrating problem was he had yet to figure out what the hell to do with all the knowledge he had brought with him.
As his birdy friend continued to peruse the shop, Orion stepped away and leaned against the rail that sat on the cliff. He had learned something in his first few days of being in Griffonia.
Despite how terrible it looked, the state of the nation that was, there was improvement happening in the lives of its citizens. Each wave of refugees was less and less, and more were leaving every month with the financial backing of the Crown. Towns and villages were being reclaimed, being reborn every year as new walls and homes went up.
It was slow, but now that he was here, he could see it. So what was the point of him being here at all? Besides seeing his friend, that was.
It felt like all his preparations had been pointless.
His stomach grumbled.
"Hey, Scream! Let's go get something to eat. I'm starvin'." He shouted. She had been about to enter the store proper, and then it would’ve taken a disaster to get her to come out before she was done.
Of the ten or so shops they had visited, they hadn't left until she was satisfied. Already a dozen items were set to be delivered to her rooms by this evening, and his friend showed no signs of stopping.
"Oh, okay!" She turned around and gave a nod of her head to the proprietor with a sheepish smile of apology on her face.
Sprinting over to him, she snagged his hand and practically dragged his ass toward an outdoor restaurant whose name he figured it was supposed to be French. Or Prench. He couldn't pronounce it, regardless.
Stupid pun-filled world.
Grace could not be happier.
Her best friend was here. Here. With her. Shopping!
The griffoness had been nervous as Tartarus that he would be bored to tears and be his normal aloof self. But the intervening years apart seemed to have imparted him with a more sociable attitude. He was warm and listened attentively to her when she spoke. Orion had changed from the angry and cold colt that she had met all those years ago.
Still, sometimes in the absence of their conversations, she would find him with a pensive frown on his face. Something was bothering him. Even now, as they ate together, him choosing a fish dish from Neighbon and her a gordat steak, she found that he was pausing too long between bites.
Grace wanted to ask, but something held her tongue. Looking around, she realized why she was being subconsciously hesitant.
Several griffons of a wealthier heritage were utterly gawking at him. She couldn't stifle the giggle as she watched their faces contort, trying to understand what they were seeing.
"What?"
He was looking at her, and her heart fluttered. He had a powerful gaze that made her weak sometimes. Or that could have been her imagination.
"You've gained an audience." She gestured with a claw at other patrons of Atelier Crenn . The moment he turned his head, they scrambled to pretend they had been doing anything but watching as he put each cut of fish past his lips.
"Oh, huh. I've gotten used to the stares." He shrugged as he continued to eat. "Besides, you seem to be having fun at their expense." He smiled while he chewed.
She laughed softly. Grace was enjoying the havoc he was afflicting on established norms. It was quite funny to see griffons expect a demure colt instead be struck dumb by his more griffonian like aggression. No one knew what to make of him.
From what Eberhard had told her, he had become wildly popular with the guards inside the castle nearly overnight. Yesterday he had been awoken early to train with them before first light.
Her amusement at the memory cracked her beak in a grin. The steward had been quite thorough in his recitation of the events once Orion fully realized what was actually happening to him.
His popularity with the troops had also reached the ears of her peers. Some of the older, hardline griffon nobles had already begun approaching her with questions about him. Their inquiries were encouraging, as they were not coming with doubt, but curiosity.
However, to Grace, those meetings had taken up far too much time.
While hesitant to assume the mantle of responsibility for a land of people she barely knew, she was still determined to see it through. Rosebreast was still blocking those efforts somewhat, and the probes into her friend's past were eating up too much time allotted to her to plead her case.
Grace sighed heavily, which caught Orion's attention.
"What's eating you, Scream?" She couldn't help but smile at the pony name that had been given to her. Only he used it, and that made it feel special, rather than as a brand others had convinced her to view it as.
"Nothing." He cocked an eyebrow, and she noticed with a start that he had already finished eating. Shaking her head, she gave him a better answer. "Well…not nothing. I'm just thinking."
"About how to get your land back, right?" He asked. That surprised the griffoness noble. Though she supposed she shouldn't have been, he was much smarter than the average person.
"Yes." She nodded. "My meetings have been…diverted to other things."
"Oh? What could be more important than that?" Grace favored him with a bemused look. "Oh…oooohhh. Really? I wasn't trying to create that much of a disruption."
Setting her cutlery aside, she reached out a claw and touched his hand. Whispers erupted, but she did not care.
"Orion. My uncle isn't the only one to have noticed what you had done on the train. Or your interactions with the guard. Everyone has been talking about it, and they have been directing most of their questions to me."
"Which means the conversations that should go toward securing your family's lands have instead gone to topics about the orphan colt visiting you." He had not pulled his hand away. Her heart beat harder, and she fought to keep control of her features. "Goddamnit, I'm sorry, Scream." He sighed as he wiped his face with the hand she had been holding.
Rather than dwell on the loss, she smiled and leaned back in her seat.
"You couldn't help it, Orion. You did what you thought was right. No one can fault you for that."
He drummed his fingers on the table. His brow furrowed in thought. "Can I ask a question about all that?" She nodded, and he continued. "Is it only Rosebreast that is preventing you from assuming full control of those territories that belong to you?"
"In part, yes. But it's also my fitness for the role. If I were to be fully in charge, I would also be placed as Archduchess. Right behind my cousin, Gerhard. In many cases, my authority might exceed his given certain circumstances. To place that much power in the claws of what many may consider an untrusted individual is a risk for disaster." She frowned. "Though the council of lords no longer doubts my loyalty, they still doubt my judgment. Something Lady Rosebreast has been increasingly pointing out. I've done very little to help our people."
"I see." Was all Orion said, but his face said there was more.
"What is it?"
"Well…" He tapped his fingers against the cloth of the table again. "This is a half-assed idea…but…could you prove that you can?"
"I have tried. But I haven’t been able to come up with an idea of what to do that my uncle isn't already doing." She spat in frustration. Grace had years, and had thus far come up with nothing. Her efforts so far had amounted to very little, and the Council of Lords were hesitant to allow her a shot to come up with a program because of it.
There was a look in his eye. One she had last seen when they were much younger, and he was planning to get back at her old friend, Storm, for a prank that she had visited on him.
"What is it?" She found herself asking again.
"I'm not sure…gimme a couple of days," Orion said slowly. "I…I think I might have an idea you can use."
Her eyes widened. Could he really have an idea that could wrestle control of her lands from Rosebreast entirely?
"Ah, there you are, my Lady." Her steward's familiar quick, clipped tone spoke up from behind, startling her.
"Oh, Eberhard. That's not very polite, you know?" She admonished, a claw over her beating heart. Grace had nearly made an embarrassing noise.
"Apologies, my Lady." He said with a quick bow, while Orion just chuckled to himself.
"Just what is so funny?"
Rather than actually ask, she turned her attention to her head servant. "What brings you here, Eberhard? I don't believe I have any meetings today." She prayed that this would not be the case. A change in her schedule would greatly depress her and cut into an already restricted amount of freedom she had.
"Ah, no, my Lady. I was instructed to give you this." In his claws was a letter, stamped with a black seal. Her heart sank.
Of all the various colors houses across the nation used, black was only employed by Lady Rosebreast. What could that terrible vulture want with her now?
"Thank…you." She said hesitantly as she took the proffered letter from the steward's claws.
Snapping the seal of two arrows buried in a heart, she folded it open and read.
"Lady Grace Fairheart,
"I send this letter in hopes of finding you in good spirits. I am sure that you are, considering your visiting guest is a fledgling friend from your Equestrian past.
"Speaking of Master Falls. I am most curious to meet him. He has been the talk of the royal quarter these past few days, and it just so happens to be that I am hosting a party tomorrow evening. I would love it if you and he would attend my event.
"I have left instructions for my guards to allow full access once you arrive and have made it known to my guests already planning their own arrival that you may be seen there as well.
"I must confess, I was surprised to see the interests of our fellow peers increase. Many have already sent in their RSVP.
"Once more, I do so hope you both come. It'll be refreshing to hear the goings-on of a nation not our own.
"Kind regards,
"Margarete Rosebreast"
Grace's beak tightened. There was never any threat. There never was. The consequences of not showing up would be others, most notably the Council, would see the weakness in her resolve.
"Man, couldn't paint herself more the villain if she tried. Who the hell uses black wax with arrows buried in a heart? My God, the imagery is visceral by anyone's standards."
Orion had picked up the broken wax pieces in his magic and reassembled them. He was currently pointing out the seal impression to Eberhard, who had taken to standing at his shoulder and nodding as he observed the fractured impression.
"I have never quite seen it like that, Mr. Falls. Lady Rosebreast's crest has been a family symbol for centuries, possibly millennia. But I cannot deny that it has never been a comfortable image." Her steward said in deep thought. "My Lady, what did the letter say, if I may be privileged to know?"
Grace looked at the letter, now resting in her lap, and grimaced.
"The bitch did something particularly sneaky, didn't she?" Came Orion's scathing question, and she hissed through her beak.
The damage, unfortunately, was done. Silence surrounded them. Not a single griffon so much as looked at them, but plates and silverware had stilled as well. They all had heard what her visiting friend had said.
It was one thing for the people to think a thing and another for them to say it out loud. Worse yet, the colt was her guest. One she had invited up from Canterlot. His comment, no matter how many may agree with him, will be seen as a viewpoint of Equestria on the current political standings within their kingdom.
Which meant a tightening of the ranks, so to speak.
Orion blinked in surprise at her heated glare.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" Instead of her answering, Eberhard leaned in and whispered into his ear. Her friend's eyes grew very wide, and then he groaned as he slapped his face with both hands. "Sorry." Came his muffled response.
"Nothing to be done about it now." She fought to keep the bite from her tone. It was not entirely his fault, and she should not blame him.
The infamous mouth of Orion Falls had always been well known to her. He was capable of letting fly whatever thought entered his mind at a moment's notice with no filter whatsoever to buffer whoever might be engaging him in conversation.
Grace, too, had the same problem when she first returned. That had costed her greatly at first, one of the many things she had to fight against in her attempt to fill in for her parents' loss.
"Lady Rosebreast has invited us to a ball tomorrow evening. She expects both of us but has specifically highlighted her interest in you." She slid the paper over, and her friend picked it up.
Eberhard lowered his voice.
"She seeks to embarrass you, my Lady. If you choose not to show, the Council will take it as a sign of weakness. If you do…" His gaze swung to her friend, who was glaring so hard at the letter that it was a wonder it hadn't burst into flames.
Grace did not need his advice on this. He had schooled her heavily in the past seven years to meet challenges much like the one she was in now. She would attend; she had to attend. The issue was that she never expected the Duchess of the Martin Foothills to be willing to share a room with an Equestrian. It was well known her disdain for their southern neighbors, and this invitation screamed trap.
Orion finally spoke up.
"She's not just trying to embarrass you. She's attempting to prove that the company you seek will only be damaging to Griffonia as a whole. This is a test of your fitness to exert control over your friends." He looked up. "I'd say we shouldn't go, but I think if we didn't, that would just be more ammo for her to use." His grip tightened on the letter. "Rosebreast is likely going to try and separate us. Where my mouth will do the most damage to your reputation."
Eberhard's head snapped up in surprise, his eyes wide. An expression mirrored by her own face.
Often she was reminded, especially lately, that if Orion took but a moment, he could see more insightfully than most.
"Yes." She nodded slowly.
"And I've already ruined that by opening up my fat mouth here and now." He said quietly.
"Unfortunately true, Mr. Falls. However, not too much." Her steward said just as quietly. "It is well known, that while she has the Council's support, that support is tentative. Lady Rosebreast is not well beloved even amongst her own lands. She is well known to be cruel, and her punishments to offenders, are harsher than required."
"So…I'm gonna need some advice then." He looked to Eberhard. "Can you…no. Would you help with that? I need a crash course in curbing my mouth."
The older griffon chuckled. "I would be honored to assist you, Mr. Falls."
"I…see. So Margarete is making that kind of play, is she?" Sigurd sat in his private study. Gabriele at his shoulder, looking particularly displeased.
"Yes, my King. I can only assume she had learned the strange nature of our guest and the effect he has had on public opinion of Equestrians." Eberhard had come later in the evening than was usual. Having spent the majority of the afternoon and twilight hours instructing Orion Falls in the more refined points of Griffonian culture. From what the Listener had indicated, he was taking to his lessons with enthusiasm.
Clearly, his slip at the Atelier Crenn had become a driving point to learn quickly.
"You said she had discovered something?" Gabriele's tone was hard, and Sigurd reached up to pat one claw in a soothing gesture.
If Eberhard was nervous by his leader's harsh attitude, he displayed no indication of it.
"From what our Eyes have been able to discover, she had learned of his actions aboard the inbound train from Equestria. Most notably, his instructions to those who have now left the city. They are heading southeast as we speak, might I add. In addition to that, she has also been informed of the current troop's disposition toward Mr. Falls. Those inside the castle, at least."
The King huffed in amusement at that.
Orion Falls's popularity amongst his guard was surprising, more so to how quickly he had been unofficially adopted into their ranks. While the pony had been cagy of his past with them, his ability to joke without shying away from their more colorful behaviors had been a massive boon in his favor.
"So that's why she has moved now."
Rosebreast's gamble, for that is what it was, spoke of more than just not wanting any Equestrians seen in a favorable light. It was an indication of her desperation.
Already whispers amongst the servants of Council members indicated their willingness to return the full title and land rights to Grace's control. His successes in turning the nation's economy must have had further reaching effects than originally hoped for.
No. That was not the only reason. His niece's own ability to navigate the political pitfalls and traps had shown her own capabilities in leadership. Even if she had yet to show any administrative initiatives, her handling of troubles sent her way displayed her cunning to all watching.
Now, this.
"I'm surprised he has chosen to take the initiative so quickly." He spoke.
"I am not, my Kindling." He looked at his wife with a cocked eyebrow. "Orion is not stupid. He is merely emotionally driven. When he stops to think for, but moment, he has shown in the short span of time he has been here to be incredibly insightful."
Sigurd nodded. Eberhard had said as much before.
"That is true, my Fire." He turned to his friend. "What do you think, my old friend? Does he have a shot at surviving this?"
"I am…hesitant to answer, your Majesty." The spy said slowly. "It is indeed true, as her Majesty has said. Orion is more than capable. But I fear Rosebreast may seek to play on his emotional attachment to your niece. While he has made claims to not wishing a marriage with her, his affection for her can still be seen by all who pay attention."
Sigurd tapped his beak in thought. This was worrisome. The colt's ability to keep his emotions in check was notoriously lacking. Margarete no doubt knew of that just with his outburst at the restaurant earlier today.
"Does he have appropriate wear?" Gabriele asked, thankfully losing the stern expression she had worn for most of this meeting.
"Ah, no. He was not prepared to meet any royals after all. However, I have him scheduled for a fitting tomorrow morning. Lady Grace had offered to pay, but he had refused. Offering instead to pay for the garments himself." His smile was thin, but approving. "I believe he is dead set on costing us as little as possible."
The old griffon nodded, a slight smirk on his beak.
"Speaking of paying his own way. Have you been able to determine what he is up to?"
"Surprisingly, no, your Majesty. The situation is fluid at the moment. There seems to be some issues with his original plan, or so we believe, as he has done little more than read and interact with the castle staff.” He was implying the entire spy network currently within the castle. They had taken great interest in him, sometimes at the cost of their own duties. “I think he is to borrow a quote I've heard him recently speak: "Making shit up as it comes along"." He chuckled dryly.
Gabriele clicked her beak in frustration. "So he has yet to look at any of the information we have kindly left out for him?"
"Not for a lack of interest, he almost picked up on the twenty-year-old resources map, according to our Eye in the library. But your niece has rather unfortunate timing, I'm afraid." That seemed to mollify her a bit.
"It is of no matter at this moment. Orion and Grace's current dilemma is far more concerning. I will not have that harpy ruin all the successes that my niece has recently gained." He stood. "Eberhard, my friend, I am giving you a command. Fill that pony's head with as much procedure, and decorum as his mind shall allow. He must not be allowed to become the stumbling block in her progress. Are we understood?"
His bride had the wherewithal to remain quiet. Her face was fixed in a mask of determination.
"By your command, my King. I will spare no effort in keeping our wayward guest on the correct path." Eberhard bowed deeply.
"See, that is done. If Rosebreast succeeds in her efforts, we may just be risking a conflict sooner than we are prepared for."
Orion found himself speaking a somewhat familiar line.
"Buddy, you stick me with that needle again, and I will make it a permanent part of your skull." He glared angrily at the unperturbed griffon tailor who had been using him as an impromptu pin cushion.
Jacques Stitch was actually a griffon from the nation of Maris. He was currently on contract to the less-than-wealthy country of Griffonia on Queen Gabriele Fairheart's request.
The colt had to admit the birdbrain knew what he was doing. But the first hour of their session had Orion refuting a lot of ridiculous ideas the Prench bird had on clothing options.
"Apologies." It sounded like he was talking through his nasal passages, stretching the word out in a strange way. "But if ze sir would hold still, I vill be finished shortly."
Completely unshakable. It made the pony on the dias wonder how many people threatened his life during fittings like this.
"I miss Rarity…" He murmured to himself. Rarity wouldn't have stabbed him seven times in the ass. He stifled a chuckle. "Hell, she wouldn't have needed to stitch garments together like this."
"Whom ish zis Raraty?" Orion winced as the birdbrain butchered her name.
"She's a seamstress down in Equestria–watch that needle!" He flinched as the slim piece of metal grazed past his fur and skin beneath.
Unperturbed at another of his outbursts, the griffon continued his work. Also, the conversation.
"Zis seamstress? She ish good, yes?"
"Yeah. You've already seen her handiwork. Those clothes you remarked on being so well made." He gestured with a finger. Moving any limb or turning in any such way would end up getting a million sharp and pointies to stab him relentlessly.
"Ah, she ish very good zen." Taking a step back, Jacques eyeballed his pony pincushion. "I assume her tecknique ish good. Judging by 'er verk." He commented dryly.
"Yep. No devil needles required whatsoever."
"Ah, unicorn." That was as close to an emotion as Orion had yet to hear from him. It sounded angry.
"What?"
"Zay cheat, Monsieur Falls. Zay do everyzing with zeir mahgick. No true effort expended. Just, poof. Completed garments. I practice ze true craft!"
It seemed there was true passion in Jacques Stitch in his chosen profession. The bird-cat was getting rather heated.
"I wouldn't know about other unicorns," he was fixed with a withering stare from the tailor, "but the only time I've ever seen Rarity use magic was to take measurements, and that was it."
"Truly?" The griffon raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah. She's a bit of a perfectionist. Self-taught, I think. I know her family owns some textile company in Equestria. Belle something or other…." He finished lamely.
Jacques's eyes bulged.
"You know ze daughter of Hondo Flanks Belle?!" He practically shouted. "Ze owner of Belle's Fabrics?" His clawed hands threatened to grab him, and Orion had to use his magic to restrain the chicken-man.
"Yes! Fuck, what is wrong with you!" He strained to keep the tailor back.
"You do not understand! Hondo Flanks Belle is the premier developer of fabricks. His product ish known vorld vide!" He was practically frothing.
"Dude, I'm not a part of that. I'm not Hondo fuckin' Flanks. You want the stallion? Go down to Ponyville. That's where he lives when he comes home. Fuckin' calm your ass down!" He shouted.
Silence.
"Forgive me, Monsieur. I has forgotten myself." Pulling back, the griffon set about adjusting his clothes and doing all he could to avoid Orion's eyes.
"At the risk of another assault, is Rar- Hondo Belle really that big of a deal?"
Jacques smiled slightly. "That ish an understatement. His company's fabricks are known the globe over. Vhile I suppose his ish not a household name, being companions vith his daughter I vould expect you to know!"
The pony could only laugh. He never expected the rather solemn bird-cat to be so emotional over something so silly. But he supposed it was only foolish to him.
"Honestly, she told me, but never really got into much detail about it or how truly big her father's company might be." He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Though that would explain the house…." It had been an opulent thing. Painted in Rarity's preferred colors.
"You say she made these?" Orion blinked and looked at the tailor, who had moved across the room toward his discarded clothes. He was holding up his orange shirt and rubbing the fabric gently between his claws.
"Uh, yeah. Said she worked primarily with one of those hoof-powered sewing machines if I remember right." He did not move from his spot on the dias. During the short altercations, a pair of needles decided to wedge themselves between his shoulder blades. He barely breathed.
"Interesting. No measurement of fabricks on you?"
"Nope. Just a bunch of detailed measurements with a cloth tape."
"Ah, perhaps she has a unique ponynequin?" The tailor mused to himself. "I shall have to pay a visit, once my contract here is finished."
"Shit, perhaps I should warn her. Tell her to hide." Orion joked. That got a bemused look from Jacques.
"You could, but I vould not be deterred." Just then, the man-turned-colt got a peculiar image in his head.
When he was growing up back on earth, he had often sat before the television on a Saturday morning watching cartoons. One of those was the classic, Looney Toons.
The part that now paraded through his mind was of the skunk, Pepé Le Pew, chasing Penelope, the cat. Only now, instead of the cat, there was Rarity, running for her life, followed closely by a hopping Jacques. He could only shake his head in amusement.
"Ah, poor Rarity. She's going to be chased to the ends of Equis."
"I swear, Sweetie. I have no idea how you get into the filthiest of places!" Rarity declared as she struggled to pin down her squirming little sister.
The foal had been left alone by their mother for less than ten minutes, and she had somehow gotten into the garbage cans behind the house. Both her and her mother were perplexed by how she had even gotten out of the house!
Rather than take responsibility for her neglecting the roving little pony, her mother had decided to impose the task of cleaning on her eldest, which was why she was currently nearly shoulders deep with suds and mucky water.
Her clothes were a mess. Her thrashing sister had seen to covering everything in the soapy grime that was being removed from her.
"Please, Darling! Hold still! The more you struggle, the longer-"
A chill swept up from her tail to her ear tips that were not brought on by the dirty water currently coating her front.
Something had gone horribly wrong.
Thankfully, Jacques had mercifully released him from his clutches and needles of agony.
In the private dressing chamber of his torturer's suite, he checked over his body to see if he was bleeding anywhere. He frowned.
If the tailor had said the words: "We have such sights to show you" during the fitting session, Orion would have been prepared to commit murder to get out of there.
"Gonna call that fucker Pinhead from now on." He grumbled as he pulled his shirt back over his head.
Stepping out, he saw the bird-cat from Prance already leaning over his own sewing machine. The rhythmic clicking only being interrupted by the occasional pause for adjustment. He wasn't even acknowledging the pony in the room.
Shrugging his shoulders, the black colt left the room and was immediately accosted by Eberhard.
"Ah, good. You are done. Mr. Falls, I have some finer points of addressing those of higher stations I would like to go over with you." He firmly took hold of his arm with an iron grip and hustled him toward his own apartments.
"Oh, come on!" Orion exclaimed. "You've been on my ass since yesterday!"
He had. Once the letter had arrived yesterday, it was quickly recommended by Eberhard to begin a crash course in the mannerisms of the court that very afternoon.
Those lessons carried on till well into the late hours of the night. When he had awoken this morning, Scream's steward was right there with a black cup of coffee in one hand and an itinerary in the other. Right up to the moment of his fitting the griffon, he was hammering him with rants on just how to hold a fork.
He had hoped, with the measurements having been done, that he could relax a bit, perhaps nap. Nope, there he was, ready to pounce upon him once more.
"I'm going to need more coffee…." He groaned, which caused Eberhard to smile.
"Of course. I already have a carafe in your rooms ready for you. I fear today shall be a long day for you."
Running his hands over the suit, Orion had to admire Jacques Stitch's quick work. He was no Rarity, but the outfit was impeccable.
Done in all black, both blazer and pants, it was adorned in gold piping along the seams. A row of buttons that held the coat closed went down at an angle across his chest from right to left.
Underneath was a subdued golden shirt. Almost coppery in appearance.
To complete the look, a gold and red kerchief were stuffed into the left breast pocket to complete the look.
He had been forced to comb out his mane and tail. Well, not him, but the Saldo'les who had been assigned to tame the wild locks he barely ran fingers through. The struggle had been real for the poor hens.
When they had advised trimming his goatee, he had threatened the standard levels of violence on the poor barbers. The request to put his ornaments away had gotten the same treatment.
The one in charge of the trio, Klara, no second name given, had desired to do up his mane. That had gotten a flat refusal so hard he thought he might be able to bludgeon her with it.
With much grumbling, they settled on keeping the wild look while still giving it a more ordered structure, having it cascade down one side of his neck. His tail was left alone to hang freely, brushed to a dull shine.
A gun to his head, and he would admit to liking the look. He wondered if there might be a way to construct a spell that would mimic this evening's do.
All the while the Saldo'les were fussing over him, Eberhard was faithfully still there. Hammering away in an attempt to stuff as much protocol in as possible. Orion wondered if he might be fast enough to boink the bird with a comb.
"Alright, enough." He said, batting away Klara's claw. She had been brushing the fur on his neck again. Seemed like the fifth time. "If it's not good enough by now, it won't ever be. Give it a rest, lady."
"It's still not right, Master Falls. I need to-"
"If it's not right after fifty brushes, it's never going to be, barring complete genetic overhaul. Am I good enough?" He spread his arms low and did a slow turn.
The Gran Saldo'les clucked her beak in frustration but gave a grudging nod of approval with a slim neck.
"Other than your neck fur, I see no blemishes." She finally said.
Eberhard, who had thankfully taken a break while Orion and her conversed, spoke up.
"Klara, he looks perfect. You shall not get it any closer. And truly, I do not see what you see in that spot. Orion is right, and you have done an immaculate job as always." He nodded with approval.
"Let us hope the nobles have your eyes and not mine." She turned back to the pony. "When you sit, remember to only unbutton the bottom four, and don't forget to do them back up. Understand?!"
"Yeah, yeah! I got it. Trust me." He gave his most winning smile. It didn't even put a chip into the stern glare from the hen. Still, she left without a word, and Eberhard stepped forward to pat away dust only he could apparently see.
"There is one final lesson I must give you. One I had neglected because I have actually forgotten what you are." He chuckled. "Orion, please-"
"Don't use magic."
The steward blinked in surprise.
"You already knew?"
"Had a lot of time to think about it. I'm going into a room full of people who have only the bare ability to manipulate the weather. Me willy-nilly casting magic about to do things for myself in front of them will only make them feel less for it. That will put them off outright. Noble egos can be fragile." It had been something he was initially going to do. To make them feel beneath him. His one advantage over all of them.
But as he had begun to think about it, he realized that he couldn't do that. Every action, every step he made, would reflect on Screaming.
For the first time since coming to this world, he had to not be himself.
"Besides," he continued, "have you seen me do much with my magic since getting here?"
"No." Eberhard smiled. "Thank you for your consideration of them. Remember, they are a hard-headed, insular lot, but a few will approach you immediately. Mind your tongue, and you should do alright. Remember what I taught you. Good luck."
With that, the griffon marched out of the room.
Turning from watching him go. Orion turned back to the standing mirror and made some minor adjustments for comfort.
"I really do clean up good." His Equish and English teachers would weep if they heard him.
"Sir." A formal tone came from the door. It hadn't surprised him. Since the moment dress-up had begun, he began tuning up his enchantments. The black pony refused to be caught unawares this evening, even if he was running the risk of being seen as a bit otherworldly.
Turning, he faced the guard.
"Time to go?" A nod. "And Sc-," he paused. "Lady Fairheart?" It was difficult for him to call her anything else but Scream or Screaming. Tonight's trial had an individual difficult setting, it would seem.
"She has not yet appeared. However, a guard has been sent to advise her of the time." She said smoothly, and Orion realized who it was.
"Hey, Swift. So you drew the short straw tonight, eh?"
She grinned back at him. "Are you kidding? This is an easy detail. At least I get to see something other than a wall." He laughed at her as he approached, bumping knuckles with her.
The entire castle of armed birds had taken to that greeting like bears take to salmon. He had even seen it twice outside in the town.
"Great, starting trendy chaos already. And I haven't even figured out what to do yet."
He gestured to his unlikely armored friend. "Lead the way, let's get this train wreck underway."
"Roomy," Orion said simply as he turned away from the inside of the coach. A subtlety ornate carriage that vaguely reminded him of the King's chair in the study.
The ride was being pulled by two Quillbacks. The only thing he could compare them to was porcupines, with much longer and more powerful legs and some cat-like features.
From what he had been told, no one rode them. Instead, choosing to use them as beasts of burden due to their natural defenses against predators and hearty frame. He had to agree. Those spines would make any attempt uncomfortable.
"Well, it was made to carry griffons, Master Falls." Said Swift with some snark. He thought better of smacking her on the head.
The one morning of training he had been on with them had left him with the distinct impression that despite his magic, he would not survive whatever she did to him.
She was fast.
"Excuse me for not being an Alicorn, then." He chuckled.
"Will you two quit the banter!" Snapped the other guard for this soiree. It turned out the King had decided sending one of his own was a grand idea.
Stoic glared at them from under his helmet's visor. Orion was tempted to flip him the bird that actually meant something awfully rude here. No one would tell him what, but the one time he did it to a passing cab driver who had come far too close to snapping his head off with their whip, Screaming had practically lost it.
Needless to say, he did not do that again.
Turning from the disgruntled griffon, the black pony looked up just in time to see his friend coming through the door.
His breath jammed in his throat like an iceberg had fallen inside.
He had seen what most noble hens of the kingdom wore during the first couple of days in Griffonstone. A fair few mares back in Equestria, but he had been unprepared for Screaming to come down the stairs to the castle foyer like this.
The very first thing to catch his attention were her eyes. The green orbs sat in a beautiful sea of glimmering red that began almost black at the center, and blended into a deep orange at the edges.
Further inspection showed her ear tips mirrored the eyeshadow.
Her dress didn't start with the actual garment itself. A choker of deep red feathers, likely stained, sat snug around her throat with a black cloth to hold them all.
A later look would show that her dress started underneath the red feathers. It too, was wrapped around her throat and descended from there to the waist, adorned with spiraling feathers sewn into the bodice. It left her arms and shoulders bare.
When she turned to address one of the guards by the entrance, her back was exposed, and he swallowed. Or tried to. His throat was a little dry.
"New fetish unlocked…"
Screaming's back was entirely exposed to the waist. Allowing free movement of her wings, but Orion was more focused on how the feathers shifted subtlety over the taut muscles there as she gestured about something.
Turning, she smiled at him and began a hasty, if careful, trot down the stairs. Those slight bounces drew his attention to her skirt.
Sheer black lace draped over a skirt of what looked to be nothing but pleated petticoats.
The entire ensemble matched the eyeshadow he took note of first. Deep, almost black, red that turned into a deep orange. Gold bracelets of appreciable designs clinked musically with each step.
Screaming was beautiful, and judging by the color combination, it was clear what she was implying by wearing that dress like she was.
One of the lessons Eberhard had drilled into him had been the cultural importance of the Language of Colors. The subdued nature of the griffon species' natural pigments had led to them, as a people adopting certain colors to express intentions.
One of the most alarming hues, at least for him, was red. A griffon would be able to tell immediately what each variation of the color would mean specifically. For Orion, the steward just hit the basics.
Romance. Screaming was openly declaring her intent for romance, and by mimicking his own natural colors, she was indicating who she was after.
"Fuck me running." He was seriously beginning to rethink the whole waiting for graduation before sex. That top clearly meant to give her a smaller bust only made it more pronounced as it threatened to spill out the sides. "I have…definitely gone native."
A stifled chuckle pulled him from his thoughts. Swift was giving him a knowing grin. A quick glance to his right showed the guard Stoic also had a quirk to his beak. These fuckers were mocking him.
"See something ya like there, drake?" His armored friend of the guard said.
He had a brief second to think about how he was going to react. Should he act embarrassed? Get pissed? Then the image of Lacy Harness popped into his head, donned in that nightshirt that barely covered her hips and left an expansive amount of breast exposed. He grinned back.
"Duh, look at her?" He gestured, speaking loudly, which pulled Screaming up short. She had a concerned look on her face. Her claws unconsciously smoothed the sheer skirt. "She's fuckin' gorgeous."
Swift actually gave him a slight bow, the grin growing wider. He won this round.
Her Ladyship, Grace Fairheart, came down the rest of the way. He could see the cheeks beneath the softer feathers on her face had turned a noticeable crimson.
Putting out his hand to help her into the carriage, he spoke. "You are going to have the entire party ogling you. Some griffon is going to make his move if you're not careful." He pretended not to notice the smile on her lips fade.
It hurt to say that. In the brief moment he debated about tossing out the no-sex law he had placed on himself, he realized he could not return her feelings. Not out of a lack of desire for her, she was cute and fun on any day, but that wasn't enough to build a life on.
There was also Twilight to consider. Yeah, he had rejected any advances from her in an obtuse fashion, but as time wore on, he had found himself fond of the spastic mare.
Orion's fear of commitment was also rearing its head. Throughout his human life, he had tagged and bagged the women that did give him the time of day. But he was absolutely terrified of somehow having a kid and ending up being an absent father, much like his own dad.
It cost him a fortune just in the morning after pills that he would sneak into the chick of the evening's meals or drinks.
That no-sex rule wasn't just because he might feel like a pedophile if he were to cave, or be tempted in any way. Its intent was more for the fact that he just could not commit.
Getting into the cab after her, he sat down with a heavy sigh. Screaming had turned away from him to stare out the window. Orion thought it best not to speak. Turning back to the entrance, he found both Swift and Stoic.
If looks could kill, he would have been vaporized in the heat of a star.
Wincing, he mouthed sorry that neither guard seemed to accept. They just shut the door, more slammed it, and got onto both sides of the carriage.
A heavier sigh escaped him, and he joined his friend in staring out at the scenery of the city below.
"Fuck me, now on top of tonight's shitty activities; I've got this over my head."
"Well, there is certainly enough gold being tossed about," Orion muttered under his breath, yet just loud enough for Eberhard to hear. He had come ahead of their party of two to make sure last-minute complications never popped up.
"Yes. It has become a contest of sorts." He nodded in the direction of some merchants who had been invited. There was enough lace and gold on them to kill someone with the sheer weight alone. "Even those not in power have begun to be tacky with their adornments. It is worse for the noble classes."
The pony could only nod slightly in agreement.
Upon their arrival, the mansion had been lit up with purple fire. This party had been thrown together for a purpose.
Gray brick and stone. Domes that must have been cast in copper, now green in the failing evening light. It was practically a palace. Complete with relief busts of important griffons decorating the tops of pillars.
Inside, rich wood walls and thick carpet. On those walls were paintings of oil, depicting battle scenes and glory. Many depicting ponies dead beneath the paws of griffon conquerors. Rosebreast had already begun to send the message.
Once inside the large great hall where the party would be held, he got his first real look at the nobility that governed this country in their natural habitat.
Slim lords and ladies, he was beginning to believe only griffons born outside the nation were tall, broad-shouldered things. In school, griffons had been depicted as little more than barbarian savages from the north. Barely capable of reasonable thought, here he could see the falsity of those classroom declarations.
"Size might have something to do with diet. Or the restriction in food perhaps?" He had read once that a child's growth was largely dependent on two things, genetics given to them, and the environment they grew up in. "Perhaps, with everyone doing with less for so long, it affected them genetically…."
As it was, he was the biggest person in the room. Only a couple of guards stationed at various points throughout the vast room came close, and he still topped them by more than a few inches.
He stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Maybe it has something to do with them being fliers?" The pegasi were a tiny people. That might be it, lighter frames for flying. The thought still brought no comfort, unfortunately.
Screaming had left him alone just after they had entered.
Placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, she spoke quietly. "Unfortunately, this is more of a showing than anything else. I have to go and mingle with my…peers. Remember what Eberhard taught you, Orion. Let them come to you."
What she had meant was his station in both societies was on the low end. He did not have the standing to approach those so high in their hierarchy, so Eberhard had instructed him to hang back, allowing for the curious to make the first move.
The important thing was he shouldn't hide. Remain open and close to the center without intruding on their conversations.
Made him feel like a servant or, worse, some type of zoo exhibit. But he couldn't argue. This was their world, and he wasn't too happy having to step into it, even for but a moment.
Scream's steward had found him later, lurking by the refreshments table. He had been too nervous about doing much more than drinking the punch, only to discover it had been spiked. So the cup sat in his hand, growing warm as he listened to the stuffy, if friendly, griffon.
Fortunately for Orion, being advised on who was who by an upper caste servant was normal, even expected so that the uninitiated didn't embarrass anyone.
"...over there is her Ladyship, Dorothea von Hardwind, of House Hardwind. She is the Baroness of Eastperch." Eberhard was in the middle of informing him who the latest arrivals were. "She inherited her title from her late husband. Word has it she is still deciding on which fledgling of hers she plans to hand it to. Odds are on her eldest daughter, Palatine."
"Are they…in the negative with S- Grace?" He was having too much difficulty using her actual name.
"No. In fact, the entire house supports her claim to the lands. Be careful, young drake. I have been informed that she is prowling for a husband for her daughter."
"Oh christ, not more of that bullshit." The slight smile on Eberhard's beak made him scowl. The stuffy butler was screwing with him.
"That was not funny," Orion said sternly.
"I do not know if that is true. I found it quite humorous." A thoughtful look came upon his face. "Though caution is still advised, she is one of the few here that may attempt to goad you in the open. Like many, Lady Hardwind has a very low opinion of Equestrians. So watch your manners."
He nodded. That was something he could do. The pony's eyes canvased the room. "I see our host has yet to join us." So far, he had managed to keep all trace of scorn and anger from his voice when discussing Rosebreast. He only hoped his face matched.
"It is customary for the host to be the last to arrive. To give their guests time to mingle and settle themselves from their travels." Eberhard raised a finger. "Forgive my indulgence, but the reason for that is custom itself. Back when there was no central government to speak of, meetings that were called often had last-minute attendees. Many needing to travel the span of the land would only just arrive. It was also common practice to wait a few days to make big decisions, allowing those that did not get there on time to be brought up to date quickly."
Orion smiled at the steward.
"My guy, you really need to retire and get into teaching. I could actually stay awake for that lecture." He chuckled.
"I will keep that under advisement, Mr. Falls. However, I will have to leave the rest of the introductions to your own discretion." He gave a small bow and left the pony to once again lurk amongst the refreshments.
"God, this is boring." He lamented. By his reckoning, it had already been nearly an hour and a half. No one had so much as even glanced at him. At least not when he was looking.
Sighing, he turned to see if there was a less alcoholic option for him to partake in, otherwise, he was going to have to flag down one of the servants. Dehydration could be a threat to him this evening.
The snack spread was excellent looking. He paused as his eyes came back on a particular player. "Is that…" Picking up a roll of meat, Orion popped it in his mouth and barely surprised a moan.
It was cream cheese and ham rolls! He hadn't had them since he was a human! How in the hell did they make the cream cheese?
He was so distracted he did not at first realize there was someone approaching the table he was standing at. At the very last second, when his neurons began firing correctly again, he swept to the side without looking, allowing the newcomer a chance at the selection.
"Pay attention, you idiot." Self-flagellation was something he never thought he would ever do. At least not this frequently.
Turning to go, he found the griffon who had come over to the table had not actually gone for the finger food. Instead, the short balding bird-cat that had been stuffed into a blue doublet, was looking at him.
"My apologies. Am I in your way?" He asked. He hoped he hadn't already fucked up somewhere.
"No…I was…you just stepped to the side as if you knew I was there…how?"
Thank whatever deity was in control that he had already thought of a handy excuse. "I actually have really good ears. I'm sorry if I startled you, sir?"
The griffon gave himself a shake. "I see. I am Lord Johann Ironbark, Duke of the lands of Pinecliff." Orion gave a bow and got a nod back.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Ironbark. I am Orion Falls." He had to bite off the joke he wanted to make. Eberhard had been very clear on not making any jokes unless the noble speaking to him made one first.
"I imagine we all know your name by this time, fledgling." Came his gruff response. The Lord of Pinecliff stepped up to the table without looking at him, and picked up a small plate to begin placing a few snacks on it.
He was unsure of what to do. Was he dismissed? Was this just a passing greeting? Fortunately, he was not pressed long in making a decision to walk away.
"I hear you are a guest of Lady Grace Fairheart. Something about you both once being orphans together?"
"Ah, yeah. We were in the same orphanage together for a time. Then King Fairheart's agents found her, and she was whisked away back to Griffonia, while I remained a permanent resident. We write to each other regularly, and this year she invited me to visit." That is a nice safe answer. One everyone already knew of.
Finishing loading up the small plate, Ironbark turned to him and presented the food. Blinking, Orion took the plate gingerly and gave a curious glance back at the griffon.
"I hear you are a mere fifteen summers old. Young drakes such as yourself need to eat regularly to grow." He gave a thin smile.
This was a test. The food piled onto the dish in his hand was entirely meat. He noted with glee that a large portion was the cream cheese and ham rolls.
"I thank you, your Lordship." He gave a slight bow and got a grimace for his trouble. Either he was unhappy at the delay in the test, or didn't like the fact he didn't say "my Lord”, he could not tell. Still, he quickly popped a couple of rolls into his mouth and savored the creamy, cheesy goodness.
"No magic?" Another expected question and Orion already had an answer for it.
"I believe it's rather unnecessary to expend so much effort just to feed myself, seems wasteful." He took a bite from some type of fried bread with a red sauce and a slice of dark meat on top. "Ooo, spicy!"
"Unnecessary?"
"Yes. If you would indulge me with a question of my own?" That got a stiff nod. "Thank you, your Lordship." The grimace was back. So it was that. "Do you use a hammer for anything else but to beat against the nail?"
"No. Why would I?"
"It is the same for magic. Like any tool, it has its uses, which are vast and many, but that does not mean it's for everything. Holding a plate and feeding myself only requires two hands. Magic would simply be an effort in redundancy." He finished and popped another ham roll in his mouth.
That little speech made the noble pause in thought, a finger on his beak, and his eyes lost in contemplation. It didn't take him long to come back, however.
"I see. Tell me, why did you feed those refugees?" Orion nearly gaped at the Lord. He had not been expecting that question from him. Or anyone here except maybe Rosebreast herself. "I see that you did not know that anyone might have found that out." Ironbark chuckled. "Your purchase was done upon my land, fledgling. The train system runs directly through my territory. Everything that happens there, I learn of. My question stands, why?"
Taking a moment to compose himself, he thought about how to answer the noble. Remembering the hungry face of Frieda reminded him of his own hunger back in Stalliongrad.
"Because I know what it's like to go hungry. To wonder what your next meal might be, or when. If I violated some law in your borders, I apologize. But I would do it again in a heartbeat." That might have come out a little stronger than he wanted, but it was no less true.
"And where did you get the coinage for such a purchase?"
"Jesus, bud. Want a stool sample too?" Another easy answer.
"The orphanage in which I reside in is currently being supported by the Throne of Equestria itself. My monthly allowance is far more than I could ever hope to use. So it collects dust till I need it." He shrugged and finished the last of the snacks that had been given to him.
"Hmm." The griffon lord looked at the plate in his hands and did his own double take. "So the rumors were true…a normal Equestrian would have already vomited by now." His gaze wasn't as angry when it came back to Orion's. "How long have you been in service to Celestia?"
The lone pony in a room full of potentially hostile griffons couldn't help the laugh that came from his lips. All eyes swung to him, and even the music seemed to mute along with the conversations in the room.
"Did I say something humorous?" Johann asked heatedly.
"No, no. I apologize. I just never thought anyone would think I was working for her." He did his best to placate the ruffled feathers of the griffon.
"Oh, and why is that? Do you not love the Princess?" Conversations had begun to pick back up, but it was nowhere near the buzz it was before.
"Respect her is more the case, and that barely. But love? I think not. I was not born in her lands. My early years were not wrapped around giving praise to her for raising the sun." He had still not managed to prove one way or another that she was bullshitting the entire world.
"Respect?" Back to short questions, it would seem.
"She has managed to keep a nation together for the better part of two millennia. Her people are at peace. I may not personally like her myself, but that doesn't diminish her accomplishments." He was proud of himself, he had managed to avoid swearing the entire conversation thus far.
"But you don't like her?"
"No." He waved one of the servers down to take the plate. "Power like that does not come without a few black marks carefully hidden in history." He carefully kept back the fact that he didn't like anyone in governmental control. "As to working for her, a snowball in Tartarus has a better chance than me of ever seeking to employ myself under her."
The idea of working for someone like her could only end badly. Considering his current skill set, it would be disastrous. What he told the Lord of Pinecliff was true, he did not personally like the mare. There was something about her that bothered him greatly, and it started the day she went near nova in front of him.
"I'm surprised you would be so open," Johann said after a few moments more of thinking. Orion took that as a cue to expound.
"I do not hate her if that is what you’re beginning to believe, but I have found that a healthy dose of skepticism is a good survival trait to have when living in this world. Not everything or anyone, is what they first appear to be." Fortune cookie wisdom at best, but it seemed to mollify the disagreeable bird-cat.
"That is…a fair answer. You are not what I expected. A good evening to you, Mr. Falls." He gave a slight bow, that Orion returned somewhat belatedly. Getting any kind of bow from a noble was not something he had expected in the slightest.
It was a few minutes after he had walked away that the next one visited him. Magdalene Risingwing, of Northnest. Her questions were much less hostile, but followed along similar lines.
Before he knew it, there were two to three approaching him at once, bombarding him with questions and comments.
During a lull, when he was basically recovering from the onslaught, Eberhard swooped back in to check on him.
"You are doing very well, Mr. Falls." He chirped with approval. "I daresay you might have swung more than a few minds tonight. Well done."
"Huh? What do you mean?" He took a long pull of water from a glass that had been given to him by one of the servers.
"Several attendees here have been quite upset with your interactions with Lady Fairheart. Their conversations with you have swayed their opinions on the current relationship with Equestria. However, I must ask. Do you truly dislike your ruler so much?"
He had remained consistent with his answers on Celestia. He didn't think he had come off as a Princess hater. Had he been wrong?
"I don't hate her, I just don't trust her. She's had a long life. Lots of secrets. You don't trust someone like that. You can't."
"Why?" The steward was unusually invasive this evening. This was important to him.
"Because I don't have a shred of doubt in my mind that she has had to do some very dark things to keep her nation together. And between you and me, and whoever you decide to tell, I've been looking into a lot of the laws that she has in place for dealing with other nations. From defense to trade, there are a lot of loopholes that seem to favor Equestria."
"You are implying that she has likely done nefarious deeds in order to secure her position and her nation's interests?"
"Let's put it this way. If you have centuries of political knowledge and lived through history itself, thus knowing everyone else's dirty laundry, would you not take advantage?" He took another sip of water.
"You have a point. I would be too tempted to use what is available to my advantage." Eberhard gave him an appraising glance. "You have great potential in politics."
"No thank you, I'd rather be dead." He laughed and the steward could only shake his head ruefully.
"There is another reason for my return. All the guests have arrived. You have done well, but now the real conflict begins. Remember, Lady Rosebreast is subtle, but she will likely approach you straight away. You are new, and not one of them, she will seek to embarrass you and cause you to act out." He leaned in. "Remember your unfortunately brief instructions."
When the letter had arrived, no one was too happy about it. Orion did not possess the training necessary to have a battle of wits with someone gunning for his throat. Back in Equestria, it was easy because everyone still viewed him as a foal, though that collective opinion was beginning to change year by year, which was to his disadvantage.
Here in Griffonia, he was viewed as an enemy at worst, and a nuance at best. Everyone here only viewed him as an Equestrian. Which meant that they were not about to treat him with kid gloves.
In the brief twelve or so hours they had, he had been drilled with court protocol and what to expect. It was a headache, but so far those lessons had proven useful.
Now the real test would begin.
A bell sounded deeper within the manor, and Eberhard's features hardened.
"That is the announcement. She is coming. Prepare yourself as well as you can Orion, and remember, be vague where you can be."
"Got it, confuse her with nonsensical wordplay to the point she gets frustrated and storms off." He grinned at his sour look. "I'm kidding, dude. I will be polite and respectful."
"See that you are." The other guests were making their way to one side of the grand hall, near a pair of ornate double doors. That was likely to be Rosebreast's entrance. "Go, do not be the last to arrive or it will look like you were attempting to hide." He patted his shoulder and walked away.
Orion, as he walked over with the rest of the attendees, mused over the fact that, that had been the first time he had ever seen the steward physically touch anybody.
Worming his way into the press of bodies he was surprised to find many giving way to his much taller frame with little complaint. Perhaps his conversations did go well, though, all he had felt was being wrung dry by the assault of inquistive griffons.
Across from him was Screaming. She had chosen a position at the very front just on the other side of the horseshoe-shaped gathering. He grimaced at her tight-faced expression.
"Shit, she must have been wrung out too."
About halfway through he stopped pushing forward and found himself standing next to Lady Hardwind, which had not been by accident.
The Baroness of Eastperch had hung back and not engaged with him so far this night, even as those that had been talking to her broke off to come to him.
He hoped that didn't offend her, but he was about to.
"I expected you to be standing at the rear," Dorothea spoke cooly. Her eyes remained fixed on the polished wood doors.
"Considering my height, I should be. But I was advised against that. Our most gracious host might take that as hiding. So unfortunately for the good folks behind me, they have a very pretty wall to stare at instead of her, Lady Hardwind."
A small curve of her beak appeared as she finally glanced at him. "You know my name. Do not expect me to be impressed." Cold hard blue eyes stared at him for a moment before she turned her attention back.
"Not much to impress with just memorizing a name." The way she spoke, the aura this griffon gave off, made him want to be direct. "I'm surprised you even bothered to speak with me, given what I know of you which is very little, I'd half expect you to ignore me entirely. You know, given your low opinion on certain subjects."
"You would goad me?" That had gotten her attention, ignoring those around her she fully turned and glared up at him. They made space and watched from the sidelines, Orion had to remind himself to be very careful from this moment on.
"Not goad, so much as lay the facts out plain." He shrugged uncomfortably in his coat. "In all honesty, I believed you might favor a more direct conversation."
"You did not give this gift to others. Why me?" She asked, no longer glaring.
"Mostly because I'm impatient. I'd rather get it over with and not have a potential confrontation hanging over my head the entire time I am here."
One final lesson that Eberhard had given him before getting dressed for the ball, was this. He had to choose someone to get just a little hostile with. It would show the nobles that he wasn't to be marched over like just another stone in the road, and it needed to be done before Rosebreast made her entrance, but not so soon for her to learn of it beforehand.
The reason for this gamble was rather simple. On her arrival, and after her veil-thin hostile conversation with him, she would attempt to convince the assembled that he was useless and worse, that he was simply an agent of the Throne of Equestria.
It was a gamble to be sure, but one he knew he had to take at the very last possible moment.
"Impatience nets you no fish." She spoke hotly. "It gains you no time either."
"When you have no time, the latter is pointless. Strike while the iron is hot as a smith would say. You don't like me, I am perfectly fine with that." He leaned forward, taking full advantage of his height. "What I am not fine with, is sending those three," he jabbed a subtle finger at the direction of a trio of minor noble ladies that had done little more than attempt to belittle his even being here, "to antagonize me."
She flushed in embarrassment at being called out, and Orion briefly regretted having to do this. His decision had been made because out of everyone there, she could take the abuse. Not to mention she had technically started it.
The question was, how would she respond?
The blush suddenly faded away, and the scowl was replaced by a self-satisfied smile.
Had he made a grave mistake?
"My, my. Lady Fairheart certainly knows how to find the strong ones, doesn't she?" Lady Hardwind said in a languid tone. He blinked in surprise and she moved closer, lowering her voice. "I do not like Equestrians, that much is very true and I will not apologize for it. However, you are very much not an Equestrian, Mr. Falls of Stalliongrad."
This…griffon, basically just said she knew more of him than anyone else here. At least in this room. "Did she know as much as the King?" He coughed to clear his throat.
"Well, and here I thought I was the aggressor." He lamented, lowering his voice with hers.
"Oh, no. It was a great showing. You have taken very well to the lessons. Very clever waiting till now, by the way, I had not expected you to use me as your foil." She chortled softly.
"And…how-"
"Oh, fledgling, please." She interrupted, placing a familiar hand on his chest. From across the sea of griffons, he could see Screaming's face darken. "You danced well, but your manner was a bit too stiff, you have not had the practice. But you understand the steps. Give a few more years, and I dare say I would be at your mercy, instead of the other way around."
She was flirting with him. No, no she was now goading his friend, who could clearly see what was happening from her place in the crowd.
"Do not use me to screw with Lady Fairheart." He said hotly, proud that he remembered to use her actual name. Lady Hardwind tutted and removed her hand.
"Forgive an old griffon for wanting to see the mettle in one so young as her. She should know how to properly contain her emotions." She glanced Screamings way and spoke softer. "Does she know that you hold affection for her, but not love?"
"And how would you know that?"
"Mr. Falls, her dress makes that clear." He wanted to smack himself. The Language of Colors again.
"Fair." He carefully did not sigh heavily. "I don't know. Until I came up here, I had no idea she was even interested in me."
"She doesn't have access to her aunt's network. She does not know your opinions on the matter of romance and families." Dorothea said sadly.
"Network? Queen Gabriele has a network?" Then it clicked. It wasn't King Fairheart, but his wife that had found out all that information about him. A spy network. A very sophisticated spy network.
"Shit. Is that why you know so much?" He tactfully ignored the fact that he had just swore for the first time that night.
"Oh, no. The Queen is not the only one with a network of her own. However, I use mine merely for financial reasons. Understanding the market in other lands can be very profitable if you know what to look for, and how to apply it." She hummed to herself. "Though I had only come upon you because of your exploits. You are much talked about in Canterlot."
Double shit.
"I have…a knack for jumping first and ignoring where I am landing completely." He muttered.
It was a good thing that the others had given them so much space. Otherwise, their low-pitched conversation would have become a very interesting topic for sure.
"Very true, and a good self-assessment. Though you should be proud of your self-control this evening." Looking at the door, she nodded, and whispered, "Come to my home Monday, I have a small manor here for when I am in the capital. With Lady Fairheart often distracted with her duties, you and I shall have a…frank conversation."
Orion had no time to answer her, for the doors gave a slight cracking noise and swung open.
Their host, had finally arrived.
Author's Note
Good Afternoon. Sorry for the lateness in which this was uploaded. But my editor and I found some last-minute issues that needed to be worked out.
We are getting close, I would say we are halfway through the first book at this point. No of you may know this, but I began sketching out the idea of this story in November, back in 2019. So this month holds some significance for me.
Thank you for keeping me going, guys, and maybe gals. I am so so grateful.
As always, leave a comment. Those of you on the fence about whether to give a like or not...hang on to it a little while longer. This may all turn to shit. Lmao.
Thanks again.
Peace.
Letting Go
The ornate, heavy doors of black wood swung open, and a griffon of black fur and feathers in black armor stepped through and surveyed the gathered attendees. His gaze swept across the crowd slowly before he turned to face the entrance smartly.
"Behold, Lady Margarete Rosebreast. Defender of The Icewall, Attendant of Seacrest." He declared loudly.
"All too full of yourself, as usual, Margarete.” Muttered Dorethea. “Careful, young Orion, she is vain beyond the normal preening of a cock ready to roost." She whispered before taking a step away from him and slipping into the crowd, almost like water.
For an old hen, she was rather spry for her age. However, as he turned around to wait for the bitch of the hour to walk through the door, he realized something. Eighty was not that ancient for a denizen of this world.
"Man, Gilf enthusiasts would go head over heels in this place."
The next to walk through was a pair of servants in black serving garments. An even blacker tabard with the house emblem stitched in red across the chest. A heart in thorns with two arrows piercing through it. Stepping apart, they turned to one another and bowed low; with that, their host of the evening finally stepped into the grand hall.
In truth, he had expected a crone. Some elderly bird person that looked like they were already three steps into the grave. That was not to be the case.
First, she was tall for a griffon, nearly the same height as Sigurd himself. Neither one was close to topping him. Yet despite him being the biggest thin in the room, she walked in with the same presence that Orion had felt from the King the first night in Griffonstone.
As everyone bowed, including himself, he took note of her features.
Besides her height, she was slim like most griffons were, but there was a willowy beauty to her form, like a supermodel that had been born with just the right genetics to never have to work for it. By his current and slowly changing standards, she was beautiful. He had expected a supervillain-ish visage; instead, she had a soft smile on a thin beak and kind green eyes as she swept them over the assembled crowd.
Her gaze touched him at that moment, and they lit up in what he could call delight. It was very unnerving. All the things he had heard about this lady spoke to her devious nature. But what he was seeing was completely opposite of what he had been told. That is what had alarm bells ringing between his ears.
“This bitch is good.”
Rosebreast came to a halt in the center of the half-circle of bodies and gave a slight curtsey of acknowledgment, and they all rose with her. As he returned to his full height, he noticed that her top was open, displaying a rosy red heart pattern between her breast.
If he could point her out as any type of bird cat, he would say she looked like a pigeon, but what did he know about ornithology?
"Thank you kindly for the warm greetings, and I do apologize for my tardiness. I am afraid the evening's plans were more involved than I originally believed." Her voice was smooth and had the perfect level of contrite humbleness that was destroying the idea that she is involved in any planning of an assassination.
The little hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to rise. It was too humble. Too polite. The original self-doubt that had been settling in his stomach vanished. Orion could nearly smell the piles of bullshit under the roses she was laying down. There was very little doubt about who he was soon to be confronting. However, it was alarming just how skilled she was at it. He would never have seen it if he had not been looking for the duplicity.
"Dinner shall be held in the Hunter's Hall. If you would follow me, I shall direct you personally." That got murmurs of approval.
He caught a glimpse of Screaming's face and was surprised to find her utterly composed. If anything, she had a small smile on her face. Had he missed something?
They followed their hostess out of the grand receiving hall and into the wide warren of passageways of the manor in no particular order. Many were having quiet conversations with one another. Orion, however, was deep in thought.
"I'm just barely dipping my toes…well, hoof tips, into this mess. There is a level of sophistication I am clearly missing here." His friend's face was making him paranoid.
Rosebreast seemed to be looking rather satisfied with herself, from what he could see as she engaged those just behind her in the crowd. But it was not the arrogant satisfaction that he had come to expect with most nobles. The calm, cool contentment of all things as they should be was all that seemed to radiate from her without any of the arrogance that normally came with it.
She turned them right, then left, before finally finding the right pair of double doors in the same rich dark wood as the walls. Pushing it open with a flourish, she stood to one side and beckoned her guests in with a kind smile. As others filed in, he gave one last look to his friend and shot her a grin. Screaming for her part gave back a smug smile.
Now he knew why her smile in the grand hall had been much like a cat that had gotten the cream.
Turning toward the door again, he found Rosebreast was wearing a small frown on her own face. Did someone say something that bothered her? He stepped forward in the press of bodies and into the dining hall.
The room was nowhere near as big as the receiving hall they had come from, but it was just as beautiful. The same wood panel walls, though a much lighter color than the halls they passed to get there. Large arched windows stood at regular intervals that displayed a view of some gardens that were cast in shadow from the failing sunlight.
A collection of tables formed into one spanned the length of the room. All with ornate cushioned seats and a collection of silverware before them. Name placards of paper sat before each chair.
There were tapestries and paintings, of course, depicting great battles and events likely from Rosebreast's own family history.
However, none of that was really the focus of the chamber. It was the mounted heads of animals and the stuffed forms of vicious beasts that dotted the walls that pulled the eye.
It was the reason he was fighting the grin on his face now, Orion had caught a glimpse when she had opened the door for them. And why Rosebreast had chosen this room for the evening meal. She was attempting to make him uncomfortable, likely terrify him.
That was her game. Rather than be the dark and foreboding force he had been warned about, she was attempting to be seen as kind, and warm, while making a mistake about certain decorations.
It was very hard to keep from laughing. Decorum was still a new practice for him, being used to just saying whatever came to mind. Instead of searching for his name, he let others find their seats and chose to approach the two taxidermied animals he had first spotted, a manticore and a bear.
The bear was big, really big. Grizzlies would cower at this thing’s approach. Gray and covered in thick hair that seemed to act as armor, its paws were bigger than his torso. Long, wickedly sharp-looking claws as wide as his forearm seemed to strike out for him despite it being long since dead.
The manticore had the exact same look his natural science books had drawn in them. Though the coloring of its stinger, a normal greenish-black, was now faded to the point of being solid gray.
A placard at each stuffed creature's paws held the date they were killed, and the reason. His lips tightened at the manticore's reason for death. A sport hunting event.
While hunting had never been his thing, he still shared his grandfather's view on the practice. Only hunt to feed yourself or protect your lands from a dangerous predator. Rosebreast's ancestors had purposefully gone after this beast purely for the sport of it.
"I am sorry, but are these upsetting you?" She had been waiting for this, and he had noticed her approach through the crowd.
"Thank you, Radar."
"The taxidermy? No, your Ladyship. I am only bothered by the fact that this one's death came because of sport and not because it was a threat." He had yet to look at her, but through the enchantment, he could see her jerk her head back in surprise.
Rosebreast recovered well, though.
"You see it as a crime?" She redirected, stepping more into his line of sight.
"Not in particular. I just see it as a waste. This creature had yet to bother anyone. Now, if it was potentially threatening a farming community or a town, I can see why it would need to be ended, or at the very least, rerouted." He touched the placard. "But if that were the case, I would wish this," his hand traced the lettering, "would tell that. Otherwise, the exercise was a waste and put people's lives in danger needlessly. Considering this society's history, this was a frivolous indulgence."
It was complete word vomit. However, he did believe in its core. Don't hunt unless necessary.
However, that was beside the point. As they were heading to her manor, he had given great thought to how to put her off and keep her that way. He had come up with nothing.
Instead, it was like she had gift-wrapped a nuanced issue just for him. One he could take full advantage of.
"So the act itself…does not trouble you?" A curious expression was on her face.
"No, your Ladyship. I am not bothered by hunting. I suppose it's not common knowledge here as it is back in Canterlot, but I am an omnivore. Though I mostly make do with fish at the moment." He grinned slightly, letting the sharp parts of his incisors show. "I have been enjoying my stay here greatly. I may have to beg the Matron of my home to put in an order of meat from Griffonia."
To her credit, she did not recoil, nor call him on what he said. She just tapped her beak with a claw and nodded thoughtfully.
Did all griffons do that tapping thing?
"I had heard the rumors but had been hesitant to put any faith in those tales. Thank you for giving them credence." He bowed to her, not as deep as in the grand hall, but still respectable. "Come, everyone else has already taken their seats. Please, join us." She smiled warmly, but he had seen the snake in her eye. The Lady of the Icewall was not a happy camper.
"My apologies, your Ladyship." He turned and nearly sighed. Of course, his position was right next to the head of the table, where she was to be seated.
Further down, and on his side of the seating arrangements, was Screaming. They had been sat in such a way that neither one could see the other. He was meant to be isolated and alone. He owed Eberhard five bits.
Dammit.
Taking his place, he unbuttoned the two bottom buttons and sat. Jacques was right, the jacket allowed for more than enough room for him to sit comfortably.
Rosebreast stood at the end of the table and picked up a little bell. "Thank you for joining us. Forgive the unusual seating arrangements, my friends. Mr. Falls here is a rather unique guest, and I wish to have an opportunity to meet with him before you all take his time up completely." She smiled warmly, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Her remarks got the expected chuckles and soft laughter of nobles, no doubt knowing the real reason why he was there.
Giving the bell a single shake, she soon joined them in parking her rear in a very gaudy chair. Rubies and sapphires etched out the pattern of a weird fire on the headboard. The rest of the wood was etched with soldiers and war.
She was certainly setting a theme with the tapestries, paintings, and now this chair. Most of those images were of battles between griffons and ponies, and the ponies were thoroughly being beaten.
Rather than doing what she originally claimed, she turned to the very lord he had first spoken to. Lord Ironbark gave more than a few glances his way in hidden anger, a frown on his face.
So much for the headway, he had gained with him. Figuring that listening in on that conversation would only be more bait, he turned to see who he had been sat next to.
A pretty petite young griffon hen with bright golden eyes smiled demurely at him. Around her eyes sparkled a pale red eyeshadow. Her ear tips too. The hen’s silk and gold trimmed dress was cut so low that her moderate bust threatened to spill out entirely.
When he was first attending school in Manehattan, he had discovered that because griffons did not lay eggs, despite their avian heritage, they instead produced milk. Which meant they breastfed their offspring.
"Jesus Christ, girl. Pull your damn shirt up. I can practically see the fucking nipple!"
Orion smiled politely.
"Evening, Lady…?" He asked, with an arched eyebrow.
"Lady Palatine, of House Hardwind. Mr. Falls." He nearly choked. There was a familiar mischief in her eyes, very reminiscent of her mother.
"I had the pleasure of meeting your mother earlier this evening." He kept his face smooth and polite. "She is something else." He said with a smirk.
Palatine laughed delightedly, thankfully keeping her hands to herself. "Yes, my mother can be quite the handful. I apologize for her earlier performance." She shot a glance down to where her mother actually sat, some eight seats away. The woman was beaming from ear to ear at them. "She tends to like to get a measure of someone by riling them up a little." Her eyes took on a very shrewd stare as she sized him up. "If anything, she was more surprised by your attempt to ruffle her. Not many in court are brave enough for that!" The unspoken, “or dumb enough,” was easily heard in the space between.
He could tell Rosebreast was listening. The radar enchantment might not be able to give minute details, but it could certainly tell which direction heads might be turned. Both she and Ironbark were watching, and he could hear nothing from them when one of his ears flicked back.
Best to ignore it. This was what he had wanted, after all.
"I am an outsider and know little of your court's more intimate affairs." All this polite talking was stretching him thin. Oh, to be amongst the guards where he could shoot the shit, and no one would judge. "So perhaps my ignorance saved me."
She shook her head, amusement plain on her beak.
"I highly doubt that. As you are no doubt aware," she gave him a look, "she does not like Equestrians. For you to do what you did was likely the most foolish thing I could think of. But you did demonstrate a few attributes. The most notable being you are unlike any pony ever to arrive in our country’s borders."
"Well, it helps that I'm not actually an Equestrian. Not by birth, at least." She cocked an eyebrow, and Orion explained. "I come from Stalliongrad. I was abandoned near the city and struggled to survive on its streets."
"You're an orphan?" She gasped in surprise.
"Yes, actually. Still am, to be completely honest." He shrugged. "I have a rather disagreeable nature for most ponies to overcome. I am, by and large, considered "Unadoptable"." He air quoted.
"Oh? Why is that?" Palatine asked curiously. Just then, a creamy soup was set before them. Inside was shrimp and scallops. Mixed with a smattering of vegetables.
The smell hit him, and it was hard not to drool. His body was going to really hate him come his time to return home.
"Partly," he picked up a spoon as he had seen others already do and dipped his in for a scoop. "Is this." He bit into it and did, in fact, moan.
The scallops and shrimp had enough firm texture yet seemed to melt into his mouth, along with the potatoes. The sharp spices did nothing to pull attention away from the meal as a whole.
"You're an omnivore." She said in stunned silence as everyone in his vicinity had stopped to stare at him. Rosebreast had a death grip on her spoon that shook slightly. Another fact about him she had not apparently believed in.
"Yes, I am, and I do most of my cooking for myself." He turned to the host for this party and smiled. "Forgive me, but if I could get this recipe? I can only really get seafood, so anything to change up the monotony of fish is greatly appreciated."
"Yes. Of course." She said faintly before shaking herself and indulging in her own dish.
"Thank you, your Ladyship."
From there, the night sailed on smoothly.
Whatever Rosebreast had originally planned must have been dashed to pieces with all the curveballs he had sent her way in just the short amount of time he had been sitting at her table. Instead, she had decidedly left him alone to engage in small talk with the others near him.
The meal had been fantastic, a literal buffet of meat dishes that forced him to pace himself, so he didn't get sick.
His company, though not Screaming, had been rather nice. Palatine had not done anything untoward or even asked invasive questions that would have made him hesitant. However, she seemed rather reluctant for him to go when the evening drew to a close.
It had become public knowledge of what he had done for the refugees that had come north with him. To his surprise, that had garnered him a lot of support and, through him, Grace Fairheart as well. Though, some were suspicious of why he had done it. Hopefully, through Lady Hardwind and her daughter, they would learn his reasonings why later.
After the meal, in a smaller set of connecting rooms with fires crackling and plenty of seating, various conversations were struck, and most patrons snacked on the deserts provided on three tables. It looked like more than a few negotiations were happening over wine and cheese.
He waited, making small talk with those who grew curious enough to talk to him. By now, most of the party knew his origins, so it was basically finding out his age and what his plans were in the city. The idea of sightseeing made more than a few remark with sadness that there wasn't much to see in their fair city these past few centuries.
Orion agreed but kept those comments to himself. For them to admit that just spoke of how terrible it had all become.
Screaming came by and touched his arm toward midnight. He was in the middle of a conversation about the inside of the mountain itself with two other young drakes, and Palatine, who had managed to wheedle her way into another conversation with him.
"Orion, it is late, and it is time to go." She said quietly.
"Oh? Alright. Well, as my Lady had said, it is time I get moving. Thank you all for having me. It has been a true pleasure." It wasn't, he was about at his limit with all the polite conversation. When he got back to his room, he was going to peel the paint off the walls with a select string of pungent words just to get all the high-class posturing out of his system.
"Must you?" Came Hardwind's daughter's sad question.
"Yes, I must. It was lovely speaking with you, Lady Hardwind." He bowed slightly over her hand, which she had proffered to him.
"Please, Palatine." She responded back warmly. Nuclear strike sirens went off in his head. He simply smiled and turned away.
Screaming had an unreadable look on her face, and that spoke of a danger even greater than anything he had ever faced. So he kept his mouth shut and walked with her toward the exit.
There, Rosebreast was giving goodbyes to her guests. Her smile dropped a little when she spotted them.
"Thank you for inviting us out to this lovely party, Lady Rosebreast." His friend bowed deeply to the hen. He mimicked quickly.
"The pleasure was strictly mine, Lady Fairheart." She gave a small bow of her own and turned to Orion. "You have…been an interesting guest. One I won't soon forget, Mr. Falls." There was a tightness to her eyes and voice she had not had when speaking to others.
He smiled and gave another bow. "Thank you, your Ladyship. The meal was fantastic, and thank you again for allowing me the privilege of that recipe for the soup." A servant had handed it off to him when they had made their way into the lounge rooms.
"You are quite welcome. Have a safe journey back to King Bloodbeak's castle."
They bowed once more and made their way out and down the steps, the cool mountain air cooling the sweat that had built up on his back. He didn’t understand why the Duchess had decided a fire in summer was a good idea.
At their carriage, they found the other Lady Hardwind waiting. Though not for them.
"Lady Hardwind? Is your daughter not going with you?" Scream asked as she stood next to the Baroness. It takes time for coaches to be brought around to the front.
"My daughter makes her own schedule, Lady Fairheart. I fear it will be long before she comes home."
"Likely because she's trolling for a husband." He snarked in his head. The fact that she wanted him to stay had been alarming for him. He already had enough women problems as it was.
"I see." Was all that Scream said.
After some moments, he spoke up into the awkward silence.
"This has been an interesting evening for me. Never had I imagined I would be eating among nobles. Let alone speak with them."
"Oh, and what do you think of your time amongst us?" Hardwind arched an eyebrow.
"I think I prefer to take my meals with soldiers, your Ladyship." He said with a grin.
The gales of laughter that broke from her beak had several guards turning their heads in alarm at the trio. After a moment, she put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle it.
"Colt," she began breathlessly. "You have been a fascinating dinner companion." She turned and hugged him. Something dropped into the pocket of his coat. "I hope that before you return to Equestria, you and I may speak again." She chortled and released him. "You are not as terrible as your counterparts."
There was a warm smile on her face, and a hardness to her eyes that wasn’t completely masked.
"Thank you, ma'am." He was careful not to touch that pocket. Clearly, she had been waiting for the opportunity, though what she had given him, might be secret. "If it can be arranged, I would love to speak with you again."
She nodded with a hum and stepped into her carriage that had been pulled around while they had been speaking. Screaming's was right behind hers.
"That Lady is something else." He murmured. Scream only nodded and stepped into her own coach before he could help her. The coldness roiling off of her was enough to freeze meat.
"Ah, shit."
They proceeded back home in silence, she staring out into the night with a neutral expression on her face, him wishing he had not opened his stupid mouth before they had headed to the party.
Gabriele had been waiting up in the night for her niece's safe return. Margarete made her more than a little nervous, and the idea of her little hatchling being in her nest of vipers once again would not allow her to sleep until she knew she was safe at home.
So when a guard kindly informed her of Grace and Orion's arrival back into the castle, she thanked the soldier before quickly making her way to her niece's apartments.
Knocking on the door, she waited. And waited. The queen knocked again, now with a frown on her beak. Still nothing.
Deciding to investigate, she cracked the Door and peered in. There, on a chair with no back, sat Grace Fairheart, staring into her mirror on top of a bureau. From the reflection, she could see her tears silently streaming down in runnels of red and black along her cheeks.
Her dress had yet to be undone.
Stepping fully in and shutting the door, she crossed the richly carpeted floor and wrapped her arms around her niece.
"My little fledgling, what is wrong? What happened?"
For a moment, Grace continued to stare at herself.
"Am I doing something wrong?" The dead tone in her voice caused the feathers on Gabriele's neck to rise. There was an emptiness in the way she looked at herself, the way she spoke to the air as if the Queen wasn't actually there.
Taking her niece's shoulders into her hands and turning her gently but firmly around, she stared into those turquoise orbs.
"What happened, my fledgling?" She couldn't help the sternness that had entered her own voice. The suspicion of a certain black pony breaking Grace's heart in a public setting like the ball this evening set the hen's blood on fire.
"Palatine." The young hen before her spat the name like a curse. "S-s-s-she flirted with him…like…like a harlot!" She suddenly roared, causing the Queen to stumble back.
Her retreat allowed for her niece to bolt to her paws, grab the chair she had only so recently vacated, and hurled it into the mirror with a violent rabid screech. The chair plowed straight through the slim reflective surface and gouged a significant amount of rough-hewn stone away before shattering apart. That seat had weighed nearly two hundred pounds.
Gabriele stood in a little awe at the raw fury her niece had displayed before her. In the absence of her rage, she could not help but note the similarities between her and Sigurd. The drake was known for his hot temper, though it took much to get him to that point these days.
Still, for the young and burgeoning hen before her staring hate at the wall with such malevolence, it was a wonder to her that the mountain itself didn't melt away, but she could understand. Another griffoness attempted to poach where she had so blatantly staked a claim was not a thing to ignore.
Gabriele sighed to herself. That wasn't even the whole of it. Orion Falls, while holding affection for Grace, did not love her. And rather than be blunt like any other griffon, drake, or hen, he was tippawing around the issue, like an Equestrian.
It was a marvel to her that the young stallion could hold so many similarities with her species yet still embody that of his own so completely. He was truly an enigma, one she did not like messing with her nest in such a way.
Even if it was not intentional intentions.
Brushing bits of mirror from her dress delicately. She asked her question a third time, though she did not attempt to turn her niece around this time.
"Things…things were going well…" Grace's voice cracked as she struggled to control her heated blood and recite the night’s events in a coherent order.
When she got to the end of the evening, when she could not even bear looking at him, the hen, who had now taken a seat on her bed, finished her tale.
"I just couldn't take it anymore." She whimpered. They had begun removing her dress sometime before the finish, now having the bodice and overlapping skirt top off and laid out for cleaning.
Gabriele tsked.
The young Lady Fairheart had looked far deeper into the situation than was necessary. Separating them had been on purpose, and Grace had seen it for what it was. Unfortunately, she had neglected to take into account that Rosebreast might have tried to rile her as well as him.
She had to laugh. The Hunter's Hall would have been an effective tool for any other pony from Equestria. But she had spotted the young colt on the second night, shadowboxing at a Taxidermied bear. That particular beast had been hunted for its threat to a small farming village in the north. A monument to her son's capabilities in battle, and on his own no less.
She had arranged for Eberhard to wander by and quiz him on the purpose of such activity and, more importantly, why he was not repulsed by the trophy.
His remarks were surprising. For one, it was dead. Orion reasoned that there was no point in fearing a deadly creature that could do nothing. Secondly, the reason why the beast was brought down really raised her brows. It wasn't for sport, but out of necessity to protect others. He approved of that fact, expressing an honorable idea of hunting only to fulfill a need rather than one's ego.
There was no way for Rosebreast to know any of this. Or believe it if she found out just before the party.
During Grace's tale, she felt that she had figured out the Duchess's plans. It was fairly simple, at least to her.
First, bring him to a room that would no doubt upset him. Then separate them from one another so he would feel the effects of the hall in full. As to not neglect her niece, Margarete placed Baroness Hardwind's daughter next to Orion so that he might latch on, or at least seem to, a friendly face.
Palatine was known to be rather friendly no matter the species. It was good that she did not share her mother's prejudices. However, that also made her a useful tool in prying Orion and her niece apart. Grace had done well to keep herself looking calm and composed throughout the evening. But in doing so, her own insecurities attacked her heart. Making her see more than what was actually there.
After a moment, where she spent the time helping to remove the powder on her niece's ears, she spoke.
"Grace. I should have had this talk with you before his arrival, and I feel partly responsible. Tell me. Has there been any indication in his letters that Orion holds a higher affection for you?"
"...no." She said quietly, with no real heat in the single-word answer. Just weariness.
"Do you think you may have hoped for something that wasn't there at all?" Gabriele hated to do this. It felt like she was plucking out root feathers with her bare hands. But this had gone on too long. She needed her niece to understand that she may be applying pressure on him that might drive him away completely.
"…yes…" She said breathlessly, a quiet sob wracking her body.
"Listen, and hear me, my little fledgling. Orion does not belong to you." She gently wiped her eyes which had begun to pour tears once more. "It is not that he does not care for you. If he had not, do you really think he would have come to see you, risking the wrath of his matron like he is?" Best not to drag Celestia's name into this, but she pushed on before Grace could answer. "Chick, you are placing so much pressure on him. It makes your interactions awkward and stiff. He is not stupid, I believe he knows what you’re driving at, and it frightens him. Orion is very much like an Equestrian in that you pushed your hand too far."
"I-I-I-I…" Her niece swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to!" She practically wailed.
"Hush now. I know you didn't, and I believe he does as well. Otherwise, he would have likely gone southbound before tonight." She had warned her against wearing the dress. "Ah, the eagerness of youth." She couldn't help but think as she gently stroked the hen that had become like a daughter to her.
"Grace. I do understand. I was once in love with a Paroton who would visit the port towns of my family's land. He was a rogue, much in the way your friend is." She wasn't about to mention the way that damnable bird had played with her heart like so many others. It would not help the message. "It hurts when they don't return the affection that you have given them. But it is not the end. In fact, you might find it freeing in a lot of ways."
"What…what do you mean?" Her niece sniffed, looking away.
"The pressure of looking and acting perfect in front of him. To hold this image that you are the ideal mate, you no longer have to pretend." She smiled kindly and tilted her niece’s head up with a single claw so that they could look at one another. "Also, the future is always in motion; who knows what it could bring."
Grace gave her a hesitant smile back, then her face fell.
"What if he never loves me?"
"Then it was not meant to be. And that is acceptable as well. Whether we like it or not, we cannot make others do for us what we want. Especially when it comes to love." She stood and offered her a hand. "Come, we should find you a place to stay while the servants clean all this up."
Taking her hand, her niece stood and followed after her. At the door, she ushered her through and took one more look at the wall where the bureau once stood, at the large gouge that was so prominent on the wall.
"Sigurd, your family's strength is alive and well in our niece and son."
He had not slept well the night before. Orion had spent too much time focused on his thoughts. Screaming dominated most of those. He could not ignore it anymore. The griffoness was in love with him, and while he cared for her deeply, he couldn't bring himself to want to be with her.
"Sure, she has a body built for sin, but…a relationship like that is not healthy. Goddamnit." In the years since he had come to this world, his celibacy, which was largely self-enforced, had given him a perspective on his past relationships. More accurately, on himself.
For years he had employed a catch-and-release program with women, never sticking to them long-term. It was only recently that he figured out that he wasn't happy. Turns out therapists are good for something. Fair Heart may not know what he was lamenting about half the time, but her advice was dead on.
Years of being woken up by Mrs. Evergarden at six in the morning had instilled in him a natural alertness around that time every day. So it was with reluctance, at six twenty-four am, he pulled himself from bed and headed into the bathroom attached to his apartments.
Stepping back out, and far more refreshed if still grumpy, he began picking up the dress clothes he had dropped unceremoniously on the floor the night before.
A folded-up note fell out of the coat pocket when he placed them on the back of a chair. He quickly leaned down and snatched it up. In the tension of last night, he had forgotten that Baroness Hardwind had dropped it into his pocket when she had hugged him.
He unfolded the note.
"Orion Falls,
"Forgive the hastiness of this message, as I am afraid I do not have much time.
"You have impressed me tonight, and I do believe that you and I may have a common interest. I wish you to visit me at my Griffonstone manor Monday morning. Around nine. I have the day clear, and I very much wish to get to know you better.
"With best Wishes and Hope for a visit,
"Baroness Dorothea von Hardwind."
He blinked, and reread the message again.
"Huh?"
Before he had time to ponder, the door to his room banged open with all the force of a hurricane, and in stepped Gilda Broadwing. The glare she directed at him would have flash-melted steel.
Before he could ask what the hell she was doing, she spoke first. No, bellowed at him.
"HOW DARE YOU MAKE HER LADYSHIP CRY!" She bolted from her spot at the door and struck him across the face.
Stars danced in his vision, but he immediately struck back, planting his hoof in her midsection and hurling her into the wall across from him.
"Damn bitch didn't even give me a chance to explain." Nor did she give him much time to recover as Gilda practically bounced from the wall back at him, throwing another punch that missed him completely as he finally managed to grab a hold of his magic and move out of the way.
Rather than be deterred by his sudden increase in agility, the impromptu battle erupted, with her launching a flurry of strikes that did not miss. He did his best to return the favor as he weathered her incoming blows and sought an opening in her own guard. That moment came from an ill-timed punch thrown by the guardsgriffon.
Grappling one another, the pair soon found themselves on the ground, trading elbows, punches, and headbutts in an attempt to make the other submit.
That was where Gabriele Fairheart, the Queen herself, found them. On the floor, beating the hell out of each other like schoolyard children.
"What is going on here?!" She did not screech, but her voice stopped them instantly in their assault on one another.
Gilda was the first to react and quickly dislodged herself from him. Orion reacted slower, picking himself up off the ground and casually pulling his underwear back up. Somehow in the tangle, they had been nearly pulled off. He ran his tongue over a cut on his lip, wiping the blood away from there.
"Sergeant Broadwing." The named griffoness winced. "You will report yourself to your superior immediately. Tell in full what you have done." She leaned forward, and it struck him that the Queen was actually taller than the King himself. "Do not allow me to find out that you attempted to worm your way out of this. To attack a guest of the palace. Of my niece!"
To her credit, Gilda did not try to deflect nor plead her case. With a cutting finger point that left the monarch's claw trembling, she marched out the door, her head still high.
Irritated, more like absolutely livid, at being assaulted in his own room, he turned away from Queen Fairheart and looked for a trash can he had seen earlier. Blood was flooding his mouth from the cut on his lip and what he felt was a torn gum line.
"I am dearly sorry for the treatment you-" Orion could see her with his enchantment, giving a start at realizing that he was no longer where she had expected. "Are you okay?"
He held up a finger, picked the trash can up, and spat out the blood that had been swishing in his mouth.
"I'll be fine." Placing the can down, he rubbed at his face and a few growing sore places. The bitch could really hit. Had he not increased his skin's resilience when he did, she might have broken something. "A great way to wake up, in fact. Remind me not to ask for it in the future." He groused, walking into his bathroom again to clean himself up.
In a travel bag, he pulled out a small tin of cream. "Nightshade's Stitch-up." The salve had proven useful for stopping, and even mending, cuts and abrasions that he had gotten over the years. He mentally patted himself on the back for remembering to bring it and slathered the stuff on some of the more evident wounds he had received. However, the creamy substance did burn, and he hissed through his teeth in an effort not to growl as he tended to himself.
Putting his stuff away, he came back out of the bathroom to find Queen Fairheart still in his sitting room.
"Well, if you’re still here, that means you weren't just passing by. What can I help you with, your Majesty?"
"Before I mention why I am here, would you get dressed?" She gestured to him, a slight flush of embarrassment on her face.
He looked down at himself and laughed. He had been attacked while still in his boxers.
"Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute." He said good-naturedly despite the situation. "Not like you didn't get to see everything." He poked at the increasingly blushing monarch.
Sauntering into his room, he selected the tried and true orange shirt and black slacks that he quickly slipped into. Coming back out, he figured it was time to apologize for his lack of decorum but found her Majesty reading the note he had dropped on the ground in the scuffle.
"If she's not going to respect privacy, then she can just live with the knowledge that she got to see colt junk. Nosey little-"
His internal rant was interrupted.
"What "mutual interest" do you and the Baroness of Eastperch have?" She held up the letter at him.
Folding his arms, Orion glared at her. "Honestly, I do not see it as any of your business." He quickly realized the mistake in that sentence and quickly added. "If she's talking a coup, I will inform you and his Majesty immediately. I have no interest in rule of any kind, thank you."
Gabriele Fairheart opened her mouth, then closed it hesitantly. Shaking her head, she carried on, dropping the note on the table nearest his door.
"See that you do. We have enough enemies from without as well as within. I would despise having to add to the "in" portion of the list any more than I have already." Placing the sheet of paper down on the table, she approached him. "You are correct, I did see much, and I cannot help but notice that you haven't yet earned a cutiemark. Why?"
He blinked in confusion at her.
"The hell is a cutie…Oh yeah." He restrained himself from smacking himself, instead running a hand through his mane, making the various ornaments clatter together. "No, I do not."
"I am reliably informed that by this time, you should. Yet you do not seem concerned in the least for the lack." She let the unspoken question of why sit heavy in the air.
"I'm not because a cutiemark doesn't define someone. Their actions and thoughts do. Besides, I've seen plenty of ponies who have one and are doing work in the opposite direction of those marks."
Cutiemarks were not what someone could often see. With pants or skirts covering them up, there was no way to actually tell what talent they actually might possess. So many wore pendants or had their mark stitched onto their clothes.
"Very true." She mused, tapping her beak with a claw in thought. Then the Queen fixed him with a look. "I suppose that is truly your business, and it is not the issue I am approaching you with. I am severely angry with you, Mr. Falls."
Orion lifted his head and let out an audible groan. Whatever decorum he had during the party was well and truly spent now. He had been assaulted in his room, had his junk flapping about in front of nobility, and the night before had brought his friend heartbreak.
"Listen, before you tear into me, can I get a cup of coffee?" He felt like this was going to be a long, drawn-out affair in any case.
Thankfully, Queen Fairheart had agreed to his caffeinated request. So instead of his ass-chewing being done in his room, it would be done in her private office instead.
Standing before her desk, a lighter color than her husband's, covered in carved vines and flowers, he sipped at the cup as she delicately partook in her own.
His eyes glanced around the room. The King clearly loved his bride. Either that or she knew exactly how to make a room appear like an indoor jungle.
The chamber itself had what every office did. Desks, chairs, bookcases, and even paintings. What hers possessed beyond that were plants. Lots and lots of plants.
The balcony had been converted into a kind of indoor garden, one which her chair butt up against. The rails had been replaced with iron and glass, which could be opened to allow air to flow in from the currents shooting up the mountain. Simple and easy to keep the room cool, and the vegetation healthy.
"Now, from Gilda's actions, I can assume you understand what I may be upset about." She suddenly said, pulling Orion's attention to her immediately.
"Yeah."
She cocked her eyebrow.
"What? You want me to apologize for something I didn't do?"
Her other brow rose.
"You have a surprisingly abrupt way of talking to me. As if you have that privilege." She glowered at him.
"Yes, I do. And if you know what the King knows, then you know why." He shot back quickly.
"Being in the Princess's good graces means little. She will not save you from punishment."
The Queen stood and marched around the desk to stand directly in front of him. She frowned when she realized that he was unperturbed by her act of intimidation.
"Oh sure, I could be tossed into jail for a time. But eventually, Celestia will come for me. Do you think you could stop her?"
Instead of answering him, she pivoted.
"What makes you think you are so important to her?"
"In all honesty, I'm not. However, Twilight is. Nepotism is not strictly limited to family alone. If Twilight were to learn something terrible had happened to me, I doubt the Princess would be happy to have to help her student recover from this. Better just to get me back alive than let me rot in a dungeon. Or get beheaded." He cocked his head at her. "Besides, would you actually risk hurting me?"
"Griffonia is a dangerous place, Mr. Falls. Who knows what could happen." He grinned, and she clucked in annoyance. Taking a step away from him, the annoyed look on her face melted away, replaced with resigned frustration. "You are right, of course. I, nor my husband, would risk you getting injured." The look said she had already failed.
"Look, if you’re worried I'm gonna get upset over Gilda hitting me, I'm not. True, she had no right to, but I don't exactly blame her. I would castrate anyone who hurt my friends. I have few enough of those as is." He sighed. "I'm sorry if I am being a dick. But it is not my fault that Screaming wants more out of our friendship than just that."
"So you did know." She cocked her head to the side. "Why have you not said anything?"
"Because when it comes to the realm of females, of any species, I am a giant coward. I don't want to hurt her feelings. At all." He sighed and rubbed his face. "The problem is, I am worried about saying or doing something that can ruin what we already have. So I am locked into place by my own fears of screwing up." He groaned. "Which means the situation is damned if I do, damned if I don't."
Queen Gabriele Fairheart nodded along as he vented.
"So you feel trapped. I suppose that's true. It is a no-win situation for you. However, do you truly hold no desire for my niece?"
He bit the inside of his cheek. Then threw up his hands, leaped from the chair, and stalked to one of the bookshelves that were bracketed by low-hanging plants.
"Forgive me, but your niece is built like a brick shithouse."
"Ah, what?!"
Spinning on the heel of his hoof, he gave her a smirk. "It's a rather vulgar expression to say she is stacked. That she is voluptuous in all the right ways, those ladies last night giving her death glares are clearly jealous of her portions."
"Oh." She flushed. "That is true, and you are correct. But why not tell her that?"
"Because if I did, she would likely become despondent the rest of my time here once she realized that despite her looks, I don't want more than her friendship. I don't want her to be sad." He said.
"So instead, you allowed her to believe something was there when it wasn't?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came. He sighed, hung his head, and only added, "See? Damned if I do, damned if I don't."
"I do." The Queen left him there and made her way to her balcony to finger some of the plants there with a claw. "In truth, she has placed undo stress on you as well."
His head jerked up. "Well, if she admits that, and you knew it, how am I at fault?"
"Because," she turned her head, her feathers ruffling slightly as she looked at him. "You were never honest with her, to begin with. Instead of treating her as you should, you kept her at wing length in an attempt to ease whatever guilt developed."
Shrugging his shoulders, he had to admit the Queen had a point.
"Not like it worked. I still feel guilty as hell."
"So even in that plan, you have failed."
"Ouch. But yeah.” He sighed. “Judging by Gilda, I'm assuming she is really pissed with me." Looking for another place to sit, somewhere closer to the door, he chose an overly stuffed corner chair, and all but fell into it.
"Yes, but more so at herself. I spoke with her last night, and she is truly remorseful for her actions. But I'm afraid she will need time." For the first time, she wore a look of sympathy. Sympathy for him.
"It means I'm in limbo with the high likelihood of being sent home earlier than originally intended." Orion sighed, staring at the carpeted covered floor.
"Yes…" Queen Fairheart responded. "However, give her some time. Grace needs to sort through her own feelings."
"There's a punching bag in the barracks. I'd recommend her putting a picture with my face on it and wailing on it for a couple of hours." He chuckled, and to his surprise, the Queen joined him.
"I…I would fear for the bag." She chortled. "What do you know of The Bloodline of the Bloodbeaks?"
"The…what of what?" He asked, confusion on his face.
"I expected as much." She placed herself in another corner chair across from him and took time adjusting her skirts before redirecting her attention to him. "My husband's bloodline is a long and storied history. However, I shall leave the gritty details to your own time to look through. It's more the attributes I wish to highlight."
"Okay…go on, don't leave an idiot in suspense." That got a smile from her.
"My Kindling, my King, is exceptionally powerful. I have seen an entire brigade attempt to bring him down, only for him to trounce them singlehandedly. Our son,” she paused for effect, “has taken after his speed more than his strength. Grace seems to have inherited the family’s strength. She is exceedingly strong, physically, I mean." She waited expectantly for his response.
It took him a moment to process the topic, partly due to the sudden change in subject.
"How strong are we talking here? I'm not sure I understand. You tellin' me that King Fairheart is better than the average griffon?"
"Far better." She nodded. "He is capable of tossing a loaded cart weighing several hundred pounds easily." She raised a hand with a shoulder shrug. "Our son did not share in that, perhaps it's my fault as he does not bear his father's stoutness."
"Built more like you, eh?" Which she nodded to. "So, the King is this powerhouse. The son is fast and agile. I can assume, then, that Screaming has taken after her uncle instead." He wondered if she was capable of the same feat.
"Yes, though neither I nor my husband, were sure. Until last night that is." Her patent frown returned. "She destroyed her bureau in spectacular fashion, as well as the wall behind it."
Orion's eyes widened, he was fast and strong thanks to the particular spell amalgamation he had thrown together, but Scream didn't even need the help of magic to do so. That little display, if accurate, meant she outstripped even him in physical prowess.
"Oh…shit." He was going to have to rework the spells to something better. If his friend was any indication, his abilities weren’t nearly as impressive as he had once believed.
"Indeed. I do not tell you this to frighten you, but to warn you that if you attempt to hurt her purposefully, my husband will be more than happy to…beat you is the nicest way to say it." The Queen said as gently as she could.
"If…if he is as strong as you claim, he could likely redecorate the castle in a new paint of red with me." He swallowed. Hard. He had no idea that it was possible for immensely powerful individuals to exist outside of Equestria. Then again, up till this point, he had believed he was special in his talents.
"Not even he would go that far. At least now. Thirty, maybe, forty years ago? He might have." She chuckled. "I wasn't even considering telling you any of this, but the punching bag comment, while a good idea, might not be feasible given her current mood. She's had no training, and she's likely to lash out wildly without control if she allows her emotions to take too much prominence."
"Well, now that you are aware of her ability, perhaps you and the King should help her develop it. At the very least, she should be able to fight to defend herself if nothing else."
"I am already considering doing just that. Sigurd, the dear, has already given me a list of trainers that could handle her this morning." She laughed richly.
"Oh, awesome…awesome." Orion bit his cheek again. He was going to wear a hole in it soon if he didn't stop. "Man, what the hell am I gonna do in the meantime?"
"Well, there is the library, and if my information is correct, the guards do enjoy your company in training. So perhaps you should gain some combat training yourself. That display was abysmal." The Queen was remarking on his earlier scuffle with Gilda.
"Yeah, I'm quickly learning that pony martial arts are not really applicable beyond a training mat. Either that or I am being taught wrong on purpose." Once he had learned that Iron Will's had a self-defense course, he had been all too eager to join. He had thought he was getting good combat skills. Gilda's assault had proven otherwise.
"I am surprised that the Sergeant was not inflicting more damage." Her eyes had narrowed, which meant she suspected something. Drumming his fingers, he answered her.
"Without giving too much detail, I cheated." Sitting up, for he had been slouching since he sat down, he continued his explanation. "I have…developed a set of spells that increase my natural abilities. In this case, I increased my body's defenses. Made my skin tougher, my bones harder, that sorta thing."
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Is that how you survived your encounter with the Timberwolves?"
"Yeah, actually. Only I devoted more to power so I could punch through its chest. I first lit that spot on fire, which was hard as hell to do in the rain, to make it brittle. Even then, it took me a few strikes."
The Queen of Griffonia was silent for a few minutes as she tapped her beak in that weird way all griffons seemed to do when they were thinking.
"In all my years, I have never heard of that before." She finally said. "You are being awfully forthcoming. Why?"
He smiled tightly. "Because no one knows how exactly I do it. Celestia has yet to demand that I demonstrate the spells, which is a surprise and makes me think I'm not the first to do it. And no, I do not plan on showing anyone. If I can figure it out, so can others."
"How far can you take it? The upper limits of those spells, I mean."
That was a good question. To date, he had yet to go entirely full bore. Maybe he needed to test that before committing to an overhall. Part of that was the concern of ripping himself apart by accident. But it was primarily due to him not actually needing to. Even with the fight against the timberwolves, he hadn't needed too much power.
"Come to think of it, if I can redistribute the strength spell into reinforcing my ligaments and muscle fibers on top of increasing bone density, could I go all out? What would that look like?"
"Mr. Falls?" He blinked. His mind must have wandered off.
"Sorry. My brain took me down a rabbit hole. What did you say?"
Her beak bent in a broad smile. "My mind sometimes does that as well. I asked my original question a second time. How far can you take it?"
"Honestly, I have no clue. I never tried to push too far. I worry about breaking something vital, so I have been hesitant to try." He shrugged. "I was just thinking of some details I might have overlooked."
"I see." Suddenly she stood and looked at a clock that had been ticking away the entire time. "I am actually sad to say that I must cut this conversation short. While it is Sunday, I'm afraid duty does not care if I can rest or not."
He stood with her and nodded.
"Yeah, I am getting hungry anyways." Stepping toward the door, he paused and turned around to her. Giving a hasty bow, he spoke. "Thank you for helping me and Scream out with this, regardless of what happens. And also, sorry about my attitude. The wake-up is no excuse. This has been…oddly nice."
"You are quite welcome, Mr. Falls, and it is no trouble. I do understand your position, even if I am a little upset with you as well. Have a good day." Queen Gabriele Fairheart gave a gracious and smooth nod and turned away.
"Well, I will give the colt one thing. He most certainly knows we can do very little against him." Sigurd had been surprised to hear that his wife had taken direct action with their Equestrian guest.
That was not usually Gabriele's way.
"We have already established that he is not ignorant, my Kindling. But yes, he is very aware." She patted his arm, amused at her husband's surprised response.
After her morning meeting with the Listeners, she had gone to eat lunch with her husband. During the meeting, her mind had been more on Orion Falls and the letter he had somehow gotten from Baroness Hardwind.
While she held no hate for the Lady of Eastperch, she did not trust the hen more than a claw length. She supported her niece, and that was all well and good, but her insistence on her own network of eyes and ears often conflicted with the Queen's interests.
"You are thinking of Dorothea." Her husband's sudden naming of her worry broke her from her thoughts.
"I am. I am worried, Sigurd." She rarely used his actual name. "In the span of a night, she has chosen to set a meeting with him. I believe she may actually disrupt our own plans in some way I cannot see through him."
"Do you think he may be forthcoming with an answer if we question him?" He asked, concern on his face.
She contemplated that for a moment.
On the one hand, he has shown that he is keeping his personal goals close to his heart. However, on the other, he has demonstrated that he can be honest and straightforward when he thinks that is the best course.
"He may. If we ask in a particular manner. I can see why the Princess has such a difficult time with him. He can be very cagey if he believes that the information someone could get from him may be used against him."
"Hmm. Yes, I have gotten that impression as well." He took a bite of fish and chewed.
Her husband was a brilliant griffon. Though due in large part to that, he would often distract himself when he was working on an issue. Sigurd had discovered when his conscious thoughts were focused elsewhere. His subconscious could work over the problem better than he actually could.
"I must confess, I am surprised you managed to get him to speak on his magic." He said after he swallowed. "Most unicorns I've met are so tight-beaked it's a wonder they can breathe." He chuckled.
"I believe he was only willing to divulge that information because of my touching upon your family's lineage." He grimaced. The drake had not liked the fact that she had spoken on it. With a foreigner, no less.
"I am…interested in that." He muttered as he took another bite of his meal.
She blinked. It was astonishing to see he was not going to stay focused on what he did not approve of. Usually, it took an entire day to get him to see reason.
"In what? His ability?" She asked. Gabriele had long since finished her meal and was now more focused on individual reports from some of the more notable hotspots in the world. The Zegyptions were having a rioting issue that concerned her greatly.
"Yes. It has been years since I've had a sparring partner." Her ears snapped up, and she swung her head to stare at her husband, aghast. "What?"
"You would risk injuring him to satisfy that particular itch?" She asked, still incredulous. "If you truly wish to measure yourself, ask Celestia for a match. At least she can handle you."
"Hah. No. The whorse would embarrass me to make a point."
"And you would instead do so with one of her subjects?" She arched an eyebrow at him. He wilted.
"Well, no. I would be gentle." She snorted, and he threw up his hands. "Can you not permit me a little to get justice for our niece?"
Gabriele smirked at him. So that was his play. The King was many things, stalwart, honest, and direct in his approach. But he could be a particularly vengeful monarch when he had felt one of his own had been hurt, especially with Grace. For her, he could become downright irrational.
"Sigurd, you know well and good that Grace is just as much responsible for this nasty business of the heart, as well as he. In fact, I would say she has more of the blame than he, for Orion, never sought to lead her on." She wagged a finger at him.
"But-"
"No. You will not seek to punish him for something that is part of life. Grace must learn of those aches and pains, and better now than later when she is hardened in her ways."
He pouted, and she smiled in triumph. In truth, they both knew he would have never gone that far over something that was merely life itself.
"Heh." He began to chuckle, and she leaned over to swat him before he got too carried away.
"What is so humorous?" She asked peevishly. Not liking the shrewd expression now pulling his beak into a small grin.
“I seem to remember that I was…well, at least implying something of the same when I first told you of Orion's intentions when he arrived." Gabriele had been hoping that he would have forgotten about that.
Her expression must have given her away, for his undeterred chuckles turned to outright laughter, much to her displeasure.
"This was before I had the pleasure of getting to know our fine, if slightly, argumentative, guest." She sniffed.
Silence fell between them, though it was interrupted by her husband's humor when he wasn't eating.
Finally, Sigurd finished his meal, and the plate was quickly whisked away by an attentive servant.
"So, how will you approach the situation?" He asked gently. He knew she didn't like when he pried too deeply into her plans, but this was more a curiosity. The King of Griffonia trusted his bride to do the right thing.
"With Baroness Hardwind? Nothing at the moment. Partly due to his ignorance of her plans." She tapped her beak. "What is truly plaguing my mind is I cannot think of what she may even want with him. What does she know that we do not?" The Queen huffed.
"Peace, my Fire." He patted her hand that had come to rest on the table with his own. "If I may offer a suggestion?" She nodded, and he continued. "Carry on with the same direct approach you've already done with him. I think he appreciates that far more than the more subtle wording you normally would make use of."
It made sense. Orion's initial reaction had been rather aggressive, and at first, she had thought there had been a mistake made. But as the conversation carried on and his later apologies came forth, she realized most of his anger was directed inward. A very complicated colt, to say the least.
"That is…good advice, my Kindling." She gave him a rueful smile. "It is nice to see all the training I have put into you has not gone to waste."
That got the old war drake to splutter and get indignant, which pleased her greatly.
As they departed the dining room they used for private dining, she could not keep her mind from the possible looming threat for long.
"What are you up to, Dorothea?"
Sunday had been worse than just simply being boring. After his morning beating, followed by his at first hostile conversation with the Queen, he had been left alone.
No Screaming. Which meant he had taken his dinner alone in the barracks dining hall. Word had gotten around that he was in the dog house with the young Lady of House Fairheart. Which meant even Swift stayed clear of him.
It was just as well. The idea of fending off a dozen questions as to what happened was not appealing. Not to mention the potential anger that would be directed at him would sour an already shitty mood.
But there was another issue.
Last night's events proved that too many people in this country knew far too much about him as is. And with Scream's already tentative position within the noble society here, he did not want to say or do something that would jeopardize that further.
Life in this supposedly primitive new world was getting extremely complicated. Far too quickly.
In the end, he ate his meals mechanically. Not really tasting what was likely a delicious dish of mostly meat. Between lunch and dinner, he wandered the halls in a listless fashion, his mind focused inward on the myriad of problems that seemed to grow with each step he took.
Monday morning wasn't much better than Sunday. No morning beating, but he had been barred from using the barracks wings’ gymnasium. He had nearly gotten into a fistfight with the Master at Arms, who ran both the logistics department as well as the training programs.
At the last moment, he just threw up his hands and stalked off to go running up and down the cart path that went down the mountain.
He had burned much of his anger off then, only to come back and find a rather rude effigy of himself being hung nailed to his private room door.
Unfortunately for the perpetrators of this threat, they hadn't hidden very far, for his radar highlighted the three a couple of meters away in a supply closet. They were peaking out and watching, and he could hear the nasty mutters, if not their explicit contents.
It was the first time he had used the teleport spell for anything other than trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
Not that the trio had any idea. All they got was the scare of a lifetime. He popped up behind them in a flash of magic light, looking for all the world like a monster from the darkness as they all screamed and burst from the closet in a panic.
It had taken everything he had in him not to flog them with the crude representation of him that he was still clutching in a shaking hand. Instead, he simply watched the gaggle of clearly raw recruits stumble and fall over each other as they scrambled away in fear.
"Good. I hope the rest leave me the fuck alone."
The "hang Orion" burst into flame in his hands, and he flung the burning doll to a bare corner of the hall that had nothing else flammable around it.
There would be a mystery for the poor servant that would have to scrub the soot marks away later.
Entering his rooms to take a cold mountain bath, he noted with a groan that it was already seven thirty. It would not be long before he was to meet Baroness Hardwind at her manor.
His curiosity had been piqued since yesterday morning. No, he supposed it was the night before that when she had slipped the note into his pocket. There was never a doubt in his mind that he would take her offer.
Fortunately, in her note, she had given him instructions on how to reach her home, so asking someone in the castle and risking another confrontation was not going to be an issue.
Dressing in a conservative gray shirt and dark blue pants, he stepped out of his private chambers and headed for the entrance to the castle. During his wanderings the day before, he had found himself once more in the castle library. Bored perusing of the available literature brought up an interesting and relevant book.
"Alberhard Nightbranch's Language of Colors, the Complete and Concise notations on Speaking without words."
The title reminded him of what Screaming had worn the night of the party. Wanting to know more and how to avoid trouble like this in the future with any griffon he might meet, he took the book back to his room that night and poured over its contents.
Alberhard Nightbranch, whose name had made him question if there was some type of theme going on with "hard" at the end, was very thorough in his book.
The Language of Colors was so deeply ingrained in the griffon species' very nature that it would often involve everything they did.
One particular color stood out. One that had been glossed over by Eberhard before.
Red.
It was forehead slappingly obvious. It was the color of romance. The darker hues used to involve an already romantically involved couple meant anything from rekindled love to the desire for children.
But it went much deeper than that. Colors could be combined, as was the case with Scream's dress. She combined red, orange, and black. His somewhat natural coloring. That was a declaration to any who might notice her interests. And who she was interested in.
Orion had thumped the book against his head, hoping to either bludgeon himself to death or learn the contents by osmosis.
His clothing today had been carefully chosen. A Gray shirt meant he was open to negotiations. The deep blue pants combined with that spoke to his unwillingness to jump in head first in whatever was discussed.
Their culture was certainly far more complicated than theirs, merely having some vaguely Germanic architecture and manner of speech.
So far, any he had spoken with had used fluent Equish, but their accents were often thicker than expected.
Jacques Stitch being the odd bird out in that. He was as French as one could get.
No one offered him a carriage, so he walked, and thankfully it was a sunny day for it.
It nearly took the entire hour he had allowed himself to get to Dorothea von Hardwind's surprisingly humble abode.
It was less of a manor and more of a rich merchant home. Though a large stone wall wrapped around its entirety that included a large lawn. The house itself shared much in common with others on the street, dark tiled roof with stained wood walls.
The only differences were the quality of materials and the larger space her property took up.
Perhaps it was an attempt not to draw attention to the home.
In either case, he still stood out like a sore thumb. There were a lot of griffons traversing the streets on his way here, and he had been the subject of more than a few eyes as he passed them by.
It was weird. He expected more flying like the pegasi back home. Instead, a great deal chose to keep their paws on the ground.
"What is up with that?" He thought as he rang the large bell sitting on the top of a mini tower next to the iron-bound gate. The pull rope was new, the gate, not so much.
It wasn't long before a griffon in blue livery arrived. She was pretty, but her open face turned grim when she saw who was at the gate.
"Can I help you?" She sounded like an angry service worker on Christmas Eve. Pissed off and wanted to be anywhere but there. With him.
"Good morning." He said politely, holding up the letter Baroness Hardwind had given him. "My name is Orion Falls, and the Lady of the house asked to see me today."
The maid held out a hand with a skeptical look. He placed the message in her palm, and she took it and ran an eye over it. She looked back at him for a moment.
"Wait here." And she walked away.
He was getting more strange looks. A few hostile ones from the pair of guards standing at opposite ends of the walled-off building. How had he missed them?
Not three minutes after, Palatine of all griffons came rushing out. The disapproving maid was hot on her heels.
"Mr. Falls!" She called out delightedly, and he barely suppressed a wince.
"Sure, just scream my name for the whole world to hear, why don’t ya? Not like this won't get back to Screaming in any way, no siree."
He reminded himself he must be polite.
"Good morning Lady Hardwind." He gave a polite, conservative wave. Orion could practically feel the tension rolling off the two soldiers. They had closed the distance, while still not looking like they had moved. He hadn't even seen anything by radar either. He wondered how they did that.
"What brings you to my home?" She smiled, boldly opening the gate without a care in the world.
"I am here to see your mother. She wanted to discuss something with me." He gave a smile he didn't feel.
He couldn't quite pinpoint where it had gone wrong between him and Scream, but given the fact that he had been sat next to Palatine during the party, it had to have started there. With her now shouting his name and grabbing onto him to drag him in, it looked like he was there to see her instead.
"Oh, what does my mother want with you?" She said as the gate swung closed with a bang and he was half led, dragged, down the side of the house. Apparently, his meeting with the noble will be done outside.
"Something about mutual interests. You'd have to ask your mom." He couldn't keep the formal speech up. "And can ya stop draggin' me? I got legs, ya know."
Her hands sprung from his arm, and she blushed furiously.
"I do apologize, Mr. Falls. I sometimes forget myself when I become excited." She cocked her head. "You sound…different."
Dusting himself off, he sighed.
"That is because I was putting on an act. I'm no noble, and that party Saturday stretched my capacity for upper-crust nonsense." He looked down at her and gave a shrug. "No offense. Just not a stuffy kinda guy."
"Oh….oh! Yes, I get it! Because of the orphan issue!" Palatine turned and walked around the corner of the home, gesturing him to follow.
Now that he had time to adjust to his surroundings, he could see that inside the compound was a verdant and beautiful garden.
"Must be something about nobles and gardens."
He had never seen the flowers in the beds that bracketed the pathway in either world, but they were beautiful and delicate-looking things. The scent struck his nose, and he could only hum in approval.
A cough behind him alerted the pony that he was not alone. The disapproving maid was still there.
"Oh, sorry. Just…" He gestured at the garden, with its flowers and shrubs tastefully put together. Her look said she didn't care. Her tapping paw screamed for his ass to get moving.
Following the path around the house, Orion realized that Palatine had just insulted him. Accidentally.
Maybe.
With that thought within his mind, he glowered as he came around the side and spotted her in a stone pavilion.
"Listen, lady," no longer was he using the word as an honorific for the griffon hen. "Just because I don't have a family doesn't mean it's an issue." He began.
"No, I do not imagine it is, Mr. Falls." The subtlety soft voice of Dorothea von Hardwind brought him up short. The man-turned-pony had not seen the noble griffon because a pillar and rail had been in the way, hiding the Baroness from view. "I imagine it has served your purposes rather well, in fact."
He was going to need to change the mental klaxons in his head to something else. It was getting annoying how often they went off.
"Uh-huh." His face must have shown alarm because Lady Hardwind tittered in amusement.
"Please do not fret, Mr. Falls. I've just had time to notice things about you that Gabriele and her…resources seemed to have overlooked." She paused, a hand in the air. "Well, perhaps overlooked is inappropriate there. More like they know yet haven't thought much beyond knowing that is unusual."
"Gabriele? Does she mean the Queen?" It was beginning to dawn on him that King Sigurd may not be the one in charge after all.
"While I would love to watch you work through your own thoughts on what I said, I fear you will not have a lot of time." She gestured to a chair across from her. "Please sit, Mr. Falls. We have much to talk about, and I fear little time to dwell upon niceties.
Orion took a seat. "What is going on?"
Author's Note
Welcome! Welcome to the first of a double chapter Sunday. Stay tuned for the second chapter to be released later this evening!
As always, leave a comment, and tell me what you think!
Thanks for Reading.
Peace!
The Art of The Deal
Dorothea took a moment to order tea. Despite the casual urgency with which she implied to the colt, there was time to enjoy the pleasing taste of Ardaka Hibiscus Tea. Especially when the tea was key to the plan. The goal here was not to make him nervous. Sadly, her guest either had an amazing intuition, or her suspicions were correct, for he was fidgeted in his chair, obviously struggling not to be the first to speak. It seemed he was intending to force her to make the first play, though, she was playing a far different game.
Impatient yet intelligent, Conard had been right. The fact that she now sat across from a potential threat to not just the nation she called home, but the known kingdoms of the world themselves, took all the diplomatic experience garnered for the past fifteen years she had not to tremble.
If her suspicions were proven true today….
When the pony had first appeared in her periphery, her spy chief had been adamant that Orion Falls was more than just some lost orphan in the world. In truth, she saw nothing important about another foolish and alone Equestrian. She was more interested in watching the political gambits Celestia was making, and how they might affect Griffonia. Anything that mare produced in favor of her precious ponies was something to be concerned about.
The majority of the known nations of the world submitted to her, after all, in one form or another.
Conard had noted him first. Just after Grace Fairheart's return, one of the agents assigned to retrieve her mentioned how unusual the pony fledgling was. The letters they sent, going back and forth, were easy to intercept and read before returning them to circulation. The subject and tone in those letters were what drew his attention.
Dorothea did not have the resources of the Crown, of Gabriele herself. So her network's ability to observe was reduced greatly in comparison. Instead, she had devoted her resources to the internal workings of her homeland, only paying attention to the happenings inside Canterlot as a necessary precaution.
So when her spy chief came forth with information about Mr. Falls, she had chastised him for wasting her coin on a fruitless endeavor. It was only after a rather tiresome evening of evading marriage proposals for her eldest daughter that the noble hen had even glanced at her desk. Noticing with distaste that his ill-advised initiative was still in her inbox.
Out of curiosity, and with the help of some wine she had procured for her self-isolation, she flipped it open expecting very little.
Lady Hardwind had been forced to read the short document twice. There were alarming details she had not realized he had. Most notable was how unusual a pony he actually was. He was aggressive, highly aggressive, even by some griffon standards. Though by the time she had the forced-upon pleasure of meeting him, much of that had been tamed.
Although she now suspected that was all a ruse judging by the speculative frown on his face.
She had apologized to the aged drake who had been with her for the greater part of forty years and redirected his pursuits to a conservative construction of the colt's life, while curious, the baroness was not willing to paw a bill that may end up going nowhere. It was still only curiosity at that point.
What Dorothea got in return was the same as Gabriele, only they drew different conclusions from the data. That may have been because one had their family roots deep into the legends and stories of the land. The other was simply a third-generational fledgling of wealthy immigrant parents who quite literally bought their way into nobility.
He was far too intelligent. Somehow, despite him being born into squalor and with no parents, he was fully capable of reading and writing at an adult level at the age of five. From copied education transcripts, they learned his mathematical capabilities were far beyond his peers. Interviews with his former instructors in Manehattan told of his rather advanced understanding of social dynamics despite not participating in normal foal-like activities.
The Queen and her Listeners seemed to believe he was a genius. A savant, the only one born in a generation. What landed weight to this belief was another famous pony, Starswirl the Bearded. At first, Dorothea was inclined to agree as the pony of ancient lore had been an incredibly bright stallion of substantial gifts. Who was to say another might not rise eventually?
The issue was the odds that two would be born in the same generation. Twilight Sparkle, the Princess’s own personal student, was the other.
Then there was his vernacular. It was atrocious and far too aged for one such as he, and that had been what caught Conrad’s attention originally. The realization that he sounded like a griffon, or even a minotaur, was only a portion of her surprise. It was certain words he used that made absolutely no sense to anyone.
The verbiage was unlike anything anyone knew. This indicated the pony was not born on the outskirts of Stalliongrad; of this, she was certain, and it was his teeth that had clenched her certainty the night of Margarette’s party.
Before that first meeting, she had devoted a number of agents to finding anything that might have come from the east of Marussia. Old legends, many more rumors than truth, spoke of the departure of certain creatures. Creatures that had disappeared into the far east, never to be seen or heard from again.
Had he come from beyond the Wall? Was that where the others had gone? If that was the case, how? And possibly, more importantly, why? Now he sat before her. Sharp of teeth and a scowl more hostile than any stallion she had met.
It was hard for the Baroness not to drum her fingers in anxious nervousness.
She was comforted by the fact that her eldest, Palatine, had taken up a direct position behind him. A nullstone ring in the palm of her hand. Six guards were arranged in the hedges around them, ready to strike if he attempted to leave before she could, or would, allow.
His eyes flickered to the bushes, and her heart froze. He couldn't know, could he? Was Orion Falls what she suspected?
Hette finally returned with the requested tray of tea, looking disgruntled at having to handle maid work.
“Tea, Mr. Falls?” It was the first thing anyone had said since he had sat down, and Dorethea was ashamed at how her voice shook ever so slightly. Had he heard the tremble in her voice?
“No, thank you, I’m afraid I already had coffee this morning.” He responded his face a mask of calm. But his gray eyes were iron-hard.
"If he isn't going to drink the tea…" Her eyes flickered to her daughter's, and the world went white.
It was a trap. Why he couldn't know, but his radar showed six heavily armed griffons surrounding them in the bushes, and more inside the house, converged on windows and doors just out of line of sight. Palatine had placed herself directly behind him. From what he could tell with his enchantment, she had reached her hand into a pocket and pulled something out, of what he could not tell, as it left a hole in her hand, almost like an absence of everything. The fact that the absence seemed to hum with no noise was only a mild worry compared to the more present concerns.
When he refused the tea, Lady Hardwind's face tightened, and her voice shook ever so slightly. She looked at her daughter. That was enough for him to know something was wrong. All thoughts of an international incident were flushed out of his brain as instinct took over, and he reached for his magic.
Orion had never tested the Flash Bang spell on anyone before. Hadn't had a chance, or a need to before. But in the bowels of the sewer system that was his training grounds, he had worked out his own protections from the effects of the spell. He called them PPS , or Personal Protection Spells.
Casting both near simultaneously, he was rewarded with a shaded view as six soldiers, in the blue and green tabards of House Hardwind, burst from cover and subsequently dropped their cudgels. Behind him, he felt a rush of air, while his enchantment gave him the full picture of Palatine attempting to take to the air and instead falling to her knees, her mouth open in an unheard cry as she grabbed at her ears. It had been a solid idea to project the spell a foot above his head, after all.
Taking a moment to orientate the attempted assault, he decided it was best to remove the military force before him first before the ones inside the manor could react. They were already moving.
Most were down on the ground, their mouths open and likely screaming in agony from what was likely too much power for the spell. He may have panicked a little when throwing the well-practice math together. Their pained cries were quieted by a blow to the back of the skull once he activated the other spells of PPS .
He really hoped he hadn't killed any of them.
Mere seconds had passed, and he was already winded by focusing so much magic into his body. Holding another flash bang in reserve, which taxed him even more, he spun around and released it as the expected wall of steel, and angry bird faces poured out of the windows and doors. They dropped their weapons and grabbed at their eyes just like those that had been stationed in the bushes, some at their ears.
He made short work of them, too.
Huffing, he walked over to Palatine's writhing body, releasing the PPS as he approached. Hers, along with many others, wails slammed into his ears. A dagger lay before her as the downed hen clutched her head.
"Bitch was going to stab me!?" Next to the dagger, was a nullstone ring. That explained why he couldn't see what was in her hand. Nullstone absorbed magic, a dead zone in the natural ambiance of life. He cursed himself for forgetting that.
Needless to say, Orion Falls was pissed.
Miraculously, Lady Hardwind had remained in her seat. She was not screaming like her people. That was an incredible amount of control for one who had been presented with the unexpected. She had ducked her upper torso down to her legs and was holding her ears as well, but otherwise did not make a peep.
Thinking, he charged a Bolt in his hand and zapped Palatine with it. He felt the spell had been miss named. It was more of a taser that rendered the target unconscious, rather than stunning them.
"Time to get some answers." He growled to himself. Walking to the Baroness, he shoved her back in her chair. She gave a squawk of fright but had no time to really react as he shot her with Sandfairer's Touch. The weakest healing spell known to him, and the only one he could make work successfully.
Her eyes became focused, and she glanced around herself in increasing horror.
"Relax, no one is dead.” His glare fixed her to the seat as if she had grown roots. “Just unconscious." He breathed heavily as he pulled his chair towards him and sat down again. Somehow, the patio table had been tossed aside, so it allowed him to pull his seat very closer to hers. Her eyes swung to him in terror.
"Artificer." She breathed.
It was Orion's turn to stare at her, though he had the presence of mind to make sure his face looked confused. His world was crashing down arou- He slammed that thought process down immediately. There was no way she could know.
"And how the hell do you figure that?" He asked, trying not to sound shaken, only pissed off.
"There was no way for you to know what was about to happen beforehand. Your horn has been quiet since you got here." That was not an answer, and it seemed she believed pony spells lasted only as long as the horn was a glow. While that might be true for simple spells like levitation and such, it was not true for more complex spells. Those tended to linger on an object or person it was cast on. She had given him an easy out.
"Ah, thank Christ! I might have had to do…best not think of that."
He laughed, in relief more than mockery. Hopefully, his murderous host wouldn’t notice.
"Yeah, no. I cast a detection spell before I left my rooms.” She chose to interrupt him before he could continue.
“Impossible!”
“Noooo.” He said in enforced patience. “It’s not. How much of pony spellcraft do you actually know?” He leaned back in his seat, keeping a careful watch on the fallen soldiers around them.
“I am well aware that life detection spells exist, colt, but-”
“Then you may not be aware they can last a long time depending on how they are cast, and what they are anchored to.” She did not like being interrupted herself.
"That's…impossible. I may not be able to use unicorn magic for myself, but I do know those spells are highly difficult. A colt such as you can not possibly..." She finished, her gaze narrowing on his face.
He was grinning at her. Judging by the way his lips were twisted, he knew it to be an evil thing. He loved when the truth served his purpose.
"The spell itself requires very little power, though I agree it is a complicated spell often taught to final-year students. But I have a friend that's so smart, so overpowered, that she has difficulty understanding what is difficult for normal unicorns and easy for her. She slammed me with so many spells that required so little magic, that I ended up learning that one a bit earlier than expected." He chuckled. "In truth, she still had to help me with the damn thing, some of the math...a little bit much for me."
He leaned forward.
"You tried to attack me." She winced at his accusation delivered in a shout. “I would know why? What the fuck is an artificer?”
This was a gamble to see if she bought the half-truth he had spouted out his ass at her.
Her eyes widened in shock. "You…you don't know?!"
"Know what? What the hell is an Artificer?" He asked again. Keeping his hopes beaten down till he had confirmation. His heart pounded in his chest and ears. He wanted to reach over and slap the bitch.
"I…was so certain." He arched an eyebrow, and the Baroness blushed. "An Artificer is a special kind of magic user. One that can come from any species, as it is skill and knowledge, not an innate magical ability, that determines if one can do it or not. They can create tools, and machines, all powerful beyond measure, beyond what they themselves could ever do. Or at least that's what the old texts say."
He knew all that, but it was more complicated than that, not that he was about to open his fat mouth.
"Well, if that was what you thought I was, why the cloak and literal dagger?" He gestured at her niece's weapon, still laying uselessly on the ground.
"Their kind can't be allowed to live." She simply said. He blinked.
Were Griffons the ones killing the enchanters that occasionally popped up?
"Wait…why kill them? If they can make tools and machines, why would you not seek to employ them instead of killing them?" He looked at her owlishly, trying to sell his innocence as his insides still roiled in fear.
"Because of the Sun." The Baroness said soberly, now seeming to be completely composed. "Princess Celestia will claim them, whether by deal or fire she will take them from anyone who might possess them."
Dorothea von Hardwind was speaking about Equestria's early history. What he suspected was the true history, the one he heard whispers about amongst the non-ponies of Canterlot.
For several millennia, pony nations were a fractured, waring, collection of city-states, welding enchantments and powerful spells in pitched battles against one another that began to alter the landscape itself.
Mountains had been leveled, and lakes existing now had once been craters of devastation from the weapons born of an artificer's talented fingers and used by those they served.
Celestia, and the missing Princess Luna, appeared out of nowhere roughly two thousand years ago, with a massive aerial fleet that laid waste to cities and military encampments. They imposed martial law, forced the regional rulers into peace, and imposed their own rulership over them eventually.
But that was not the end.
No, in a bid to secure their lands from any opposition, the Sisters turned their fleet on their neighbors and overseas territories. For years, assaults on prized land wrestled control from rightful owners, and several races had been moved right off the continent itself. One simply vanished. In response, the minotaurs withdrew from their original territories, building a wall with weapons powerful enough to strike down any incursion. Others simply capitulated to deals that made them practically slave states in all but name.
Or at least that was what he was seeing with the janky ass way the history books were put together, and the current laws governing international dealings.
"Holy shit." He breathed. He had suspected something, but to hear it so direct and without any hint of deception that he could tell, was another thing entirely. The details made his balls want to shrivel up in terror.
"Indeed." The Baroness nodded soberly.
Several guards stirred around them. One lifted his head, eyes glazed, but the moment his eyes landed on the only pony in the garden, they hardened into steel points.
"Hold." Hardwind's hand raised to stop him. "I was mistaken. This pony is not what I thought he was."
The soldier blinked in confusion. "But…my Lady. He-"
"Defended himself from our misguided attempts to eliminate him. To kill an innocent individual." She said, chastisement was evident on her face. Her eyes fell on Orion. "Mr. Falls. Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am for what almost occurred here. What can I do to…" She shrugged uncomfortably.
The colt bit the inside of his cheek in thought.
This was not something someone could simply brush off, he was too pissed off to let himself do that. The noble had been too damn close to the truth, and if he looked like he wanted to sweep the whole thing under a rug, her suspicions might be rekindled, if they were not still there. That would fuck his whole week up.
An idea struck him.
"Fine." He fixed her with a look of disgust and gestured about them. “You now owe me. So you’re gonna help me with my little scheme.” He had been looking for an in, and she was perfect. She had contacts, a way to get supplies, and everything he would need in order to carry out his venture and win Scream’s forgiveness for acting like an ass. There was no way in hell he was not about to let this go. "But I think this is going to work in your favor more than you believe."
Her face had a momentary look of anger, however, at the mention of her getting something out of it, she arched an eyebrow. Her beak pursed in thought.
"But first." He looked around them, at the slowly rising guards, all being told by the first that the danger was over. Palatine was still down for the count. "Let's do this privately."
She nodded and rose. Orion followed her out of the garden doing his best to suppress the rage in his heart, and the fear in his stomach. This could all still go to hell in a matter of seconds if he screwed anything up.
She couldn't believe it. How could she have been so foolish? The simple answer was her fear. Fear of Gabriele and Sigurd mucking things up and missing what had at first escaped her own notice. Dorothea had been so certain, and in parts of her mind, she was still suspicious of him.
“This was foolish of me. I did not yet even have proof!” The truth was, with the righting of the nation's wings, through no small effort of her own, things were beginning to get complicated. Equestria had finally noticed that their crippled country was no longer hemorrhaging blood and coin as much as it had once had.
Then this pony appears from nowhere and begins making waves strong enough for the Princess of the Sun herself to notice. The discovery that had made Griffonia’s noble class hold their collective breath, there was an artificer on the loose, with no way to track him.
The only truly bizarre issue was the mysterious crafter’s lack of desire for attention.
“Wait…what if? Could he have known what I called him from the beginning?” Thinking back to moments before they took this journey into her home, she thought over what he said and did. “His eyes…”
Dorothea glanced back at her guest. The moment she did, he looked sharply at her and smiled, a sickly thing. There was still a lot of anger in his eyes, but she could see something. Fear?
“Something wrong?” He asked testily.
“No, I was just thinking about how sorry I am for this whole mess.” She faked a sigh as she lamented her supposed slip-up of decorum.
“Yeah, that's on you. However, I got an idea that will benefit all parties involved, and make us somewhat even.” The impertinence! But she admonished herself, she would not give in to her emotions again.
“I do hope so. Otherwise, this was all for nothing.” She turned back and kept her own visage neutral, while she cursed herself for not paying attention originally.
The night of the party had been one of many lessons. The first being that sometimes, rumors were true. However, the one lesson she hadn’t looked for and had somehow forgotten, was that the eyes can give more away than words and deeds can in a night. To be fair to herself, she had not had much close action with him, instead relying on proxies to carry on her investigation. She had gleaned much and yet missed everything.
What was he like when he lied, and when he was honest? Today, she had at least accidentally gotten half the answer before the questions had occurred to her.
Orion Falls was lying. But there was no telling how much he was doing so, or what about. Perhaps he is not the enchanter, just merely an apprentice. Or, her original idea was the correct one after all….
Stopping at the correct door, she gestured inside. “Please, have a seat. I shall have more tea brought in.” He gave her a look.
“And how do I know this won’t be drugged?” He said heatedly.
“I give you my oath that I shall not attempt your capture or…murder again.” He hesitated for just a moment before nodding.
She rang a small bell at the entrance to the lushly furnished sitting office of grays and greens and had one of the servants speeding away with their orders. Sitting across from him in her study. The Baroness mentally berated herself. She still had her suspicions, but his easy explanation of his abilities and the certain knowledge that he was distrustful of any and everyone, had seeded doubts into those suspicions.
Some information was required.
"Before we begin, may I have an explanation on those earlier spells?" The Lady had never heard of a spell that could blind and deafen a foe, and if Equestria had a new weapon, she needed to know of it. He looked up, his horn still a torch that spoke of his extreme distrust for her. That orange-gold-black flame was highly unusual. Nothing Dorothea had heard of matched it.
"You mean the bright blast and ear-shattering one?” She nodded. “Well, I suppose there's no harm in telling you. Have you ever heard of a camera?" He asked, adjusting his seat, so the door to her private study remained in sight.
"I have, though it's still a recent invention from Equestria. It takes a still image, though the how is a mystery.”
Orion Falls smirked.
"It does indeed, using a crystal to flash the targeted object. The spell inside that crystal actually reflects off the surface of the person or thing it's directed at and hits the receiving crystal lens. It imprints on the paper inside the image." He spread his hands and shrugged. "However, I feel it's inefficient, you have to replace both the lens and the crystal after every use. Not to mention they are tuned to one another. You can't use a lens from one package, and a crystal from another."
She was intrigued by the knowledge, yet frustrated.
"What does this have anything to do with what you did?"
"Well, you see, when the picture is taken, it emits a bright flash when activated. I've noticed that the flash leaves folks disoriented on occasion." He passed a magic veil over the biscuits and coffee that she had requested for him. No doubt he knew what the original pot of tea had been intended for without the need for magic.
"That still doesn't answer why I, and my guards, lost our hearing." Poor Palatine. She had been the closest when he did whatever it was that he had cast.
"Yep, I was getting to that. Do you have any griffons that can work the weather?" He picked up a biscuit and dunked it into his coffee. The etiquette instructor in her recoiled.
"To a very limited degree. We cannot manufacture rain clouds, we are restricted to only working with what is there, and it takes time for us to put a proper squall together." She cocked her head. "Why?"
"What happens if they happen to be too close to a thunderclap?" He bit into the now soggy confection. Was he trying to upset her?
No. Dorothea worked over his line of questions, her head down. She gasped.
"They are struck deaf…some even fall to their deaths being unable to orientate themselves in the air." She looked at him. "You hit us with a thunderclap?!"
"Half right. I hit you with a Flash Bang . The flash of a crystal amped up to completely blind a person. The bang of thunder to deafen you." He grinned and bit into another soggy biscuit.
Dorothea von Hardwind took a moment to appreciate just how intelligent an idea that was. The sheer deviousness.
"Who came up with it?" She dreaded that next question, but if it was a new weapon Equestrians had created and not yet ready to use, perhaps-
"Me. And no, for your next question. No one has any idea it exists. Considering your stance on the average pony, I doubt you're gonna go tell anyone."
He had created the spell himself? A fifteen-year-old pony had created such an effective weapon that could down an entire brigade of armed griffons. It was almost too much to believe.
"Wh-where did you come from?" The Baroness said shakily, her throat dry.
For a long moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer her.
"I actually can't give you an answer on that. I'm assuming you're trying to ask about the time before Stalliongrad. The truth is, I don't know." Orion grimaced like he had bitten into something foul and looked away. No telling if he was giving her an honest answer. "It's a complete mystery to me how I got there the way I did. Why do you ask?"
She thought of how to answer. He had been far more forthcoming than Dorothea had originally expected, considering what just happened. Was it the truth? She did not know, but the answers were a bit too detailed to be such a blatant lie.
"As far as can be determined, you simply appeared one day inside the walls of that city. No family, no idea of who you were other than a name. However, that is not why I am curious. I could accept all of that as fact, save for one glaring problem. It was your countenance."
"My countenance?" He parroted. "You mean the way I acted?"
"Yes, Gabriele and her agents may have written it off as the eccentricities of a foal born to the streets, forced to mature too fast. But I saw something else." He nodded for her to continue. "The language you employed, while Equish in nature, has cultural phrases I have not found anywhere else." She lifted up a hand and began ticking off the fingers with the other. "Hell, God, Jesus Christ? Who or what are these names? What are their meanings?"
"Huh, you know what? Other than hell, I am not really sure what the others mean, if I am being completely honest." She snatched at the single word he confessed to understand.
"What does Hell mean?"
"It simply means, "Tartarus"." He spread his hands and shrugged. "From what I do know, it implies a place of eternal damnation. Where one is tormented for all time."
She paused and thought, looking away from him.
"It would make sense. The context in which he was recorded to say those words do match. Could "God" and "Jesus Christ" be some type of invocation of a deity along with this place of eternal suffering?" If what he said was true, and she was beginning to believe some of it, then he would either be unwilling, or unable to give an answer to certain questions.
"Why are you so curious as to where I came from?" His question broke through her spiraling thoughts.
Dorothea took in a breath.
"I believe you may have come from beyond the Wall."
There was a gravity to that word as if it had some great meaning that he couldn't fathom. The Baroness must have seen the confusion on his face because she saved him from answering just yet.
"I see, you have not heard of it. I suppose such an understudied place would not make it into the common curriculum of the average student." He bristled at that. “Especially if you have truly not come from there.”
Despite his handicaps, he felt that he was an extraordinary student. He shook his head.
"She means the normal everyday student, not you, idiot."
"No, I have actually never heard of it. What is it?" He asked, getting his swinging mood under control.
"Its official name is Burgandraw's Wall. It sits beyond the Upheaval Lands." He blinked. He didn't even know what the hell the Upheaval Lands were.
"Um. Yeah, my education in geography is apparently sorely lacking. What the hell is that?"
She giggled at him.
"And here I was led to believe Celestia had her ponies instructed properly." She sat up straighter.
Up to now, the hen had been cagey, every word that came out of his mouth, she seemed to dissect like a surgeon. Perhaps he was not yet out of the woods with her. However, with questions that seemed to settle in her personal interests, she had regained much of her former poise.
"The Upheaval Lands is a stretch of territory that butts up against the lands of Marussia, and Burgandraw's Wall. Often called the Lands Between, it has no set elevation. The earth there is fractured in such a way that has formed a massive maze of canyons and short plateaus. Oh, I should mention that the Minos also have land connecting to that broken place. They have even built a gate into it, called the Maw, and the place is known as the Labyrinth to them."
He was careful not to let anything else, but curiosity stay on his face.
Forager had spoken often of the Labyrinth but in hushed mystical tones filled with dread. Apparently, monsters existed inside so terrible that only the condemned minotaurs were sentenced to walk within.
"If so many people know of this, why isn't it more talked about?" He asked, hoping not to drag this topic on for too long.
"It has been there since long before written records. Long before even that, I suspect. Orion, the land has never been explored. It is full of monsters and creatures warped in their birth by something no one can explain. Unholy abominations walk in those crevices and canyons. Beasts that make other, more common creatures, run in terror." She took a breath. "Even worse, there is something in the skies above that wreaks havoc on any airship sent to investigate. Few have ever survived. One being Burgandraw himself."
"Damn, it sounds like nightmare fuel." He said quietly, vowing to himself never to get within a hundred miles of the place.
"An ancestor of mine once witnessed it. She was not left unscathed." The Baroness shook her head.
"If it was enough to mentally scar people just looking at it, why go there at all?"
"Because someone pointed out that at night, during the coldest times of the year, one could see a bright light, of green and purple flashing in the late hours. People grew curious. Eventually, once airship travel had been discovered, people of all races with the means to attempt a journey across the Lands Between from above." It was her turn to spread her hands.
"Not many came back."
"Yes. Burgandraw and his crew were the only ones to make it to the Wall. What they saw there…" She trailed off as if she was recounting seeing it for herself.
"Saw what? Please don't leave the idiot in suspense over here." He pleaded. Much to his chagrin, he had become invested in the tale, his anger momentarily forgotten.
Lady Hardwind shook herself, feathers puffing up in what he assumed was an embarrassment.
"I apologize. The reading of the account when I was young left my mind fraught with terrifying imagination." Settling herself, she went on. "A massive wall, higher than the very clouds that top us all. From what Burgandraw wrote, he described it as if some ancient titan carved away the land, pushing the raw earth ever higher into the sky."
"That…is big." His mind was struggling to comprehend the enormity of such a natural structure. "It's like…the Olympus Mons, only actually here instead of some distant planet."
"How far does it stretch?" He found himself asking.
"Too far. It's as if it divides the world in two." She said solemnly.
"And you believe I came from beyond it? How?" That question seemed to be one she had been waiting for.
"Do you remember how I mentioned flashes of light during the winter months? Of greens and purples?" He nodded. "That is because there is a Gap in the wall. Soardin's Gap, to be precise. Named after a crew member who attempted to fly through it. The Gap is more of a breach in the wall than a portal to the possible lands beyond."
"What happened to Soardin?" Orion suspected he already knew.
"Struck down. It turns out, those lights were lightning strikes between the walls of the Gap. No one knows why, only that the lightning is a pure magical force in its nature." The Baroness tapped her beak. "As I said, not much is truly known, for the sheer danger of the region is enough to keep many away."
He scoffed.
"And you think I was somehow lucky enough to survive all of that?" There was more than a little scorn in his voice. In truth, the suggestion was ridiculous. How could anyone make it through something that was apparently that terrifying?
"I can understand your doubt. But you have no other history, and you appeared at the mark of early spring. You have a culture, no one had ever seen or heard before, on your tongue. Your mannerisms are completely separated from pony society." She leaned forward. "And, your very biological nature is different from theirs as well."
Considering it from her point of view, he wanted to take back his scoff. She was wrong completely, of course, and the truth was far stranger than the fiction she produced. Still, it might pay to go along with it.
"I'm…not certain how to take all this, to be honest. It's certainly a stretch, though." He gave her a narrowed look. "Is that why you think I was an…Artificer?"
Orion had to be careful not to appear purposefully vague on the subject. It made him nervous just mentioning the skill set out in the open like this, and he was certain the sword of Damocles was hanging somewhere above him.
"Yes. Orion Falls, over a thousand years ago, enchanters from the world over, vanished. As if stolen away in the night. Celestia, recently suffering the loss of her sister after her battle with the Nightmare, targeted kingdoms with assassinations and direct threats. Even Starswirl the Bearded, one of the greatest, disappeared. Rumor’s abounded that they traveled east, across the sea. Never to be seen or heard from again."
"There was that name again." He mused. "Okay, let's think about this for a minute. She believes I come from a place that is impossible to pass, all because of the disappearances of a lot of enchanters. My manner of talking was what helped that belief. Something isn't adding up."
"When was the wall discovered?" He asked, suspicion of a coincidence heavy in his mind.
"Just before the disappearances." Baroness Hardwind had a quick answer.
That made an odd kind of sense. So he went with it.
"You…maybe right…I honestly don't know. I have no memories of the Wall, or Gap, or anything that might be beyond both." He thought for a few more minutes as she took her first sip of tea, but couldn't come up with anything to keep that belief in her mind. "I think we've done enough history, just…do you have any books on the subject?"
"I do. They are yours."
"Good, good. Okay. Let's get back on track here. You," he pointed at her, "tried to kill me, and books are not going to sway me. I’m not Twilight fuckin’ Sparkle. I have half a mind to tell the King and Queen about today." He waved her attempt at protests away. "However, as you and others like you might have guessed, I came to Griffonia for more than just visiting Screaming."
"I had…thought as much. You seemed to be on some sort of mission." She spoke slowly, obviously expecting a type of trap in his words, or searching for any lies he had constructed.
"I suppose you can call me a missionary." He grinned. His grandmother liked to donate to those kinds of people all the time. "But yes, I wanted to see my friend, originally, but my plans changed when I began to do some research on your nation. Let's just say, pony school education seems to gloss over a lot of things. Like the fact that nearly sixty-two percent of your population is so poor that they can barely afford to feed themselves."
The Baroness's eyes widened slightly. "Are you saying you are attempting to be a charity for us? That is all well and good, but that is temporary at best. Let us not forget, you are but one colt, an orphan at that, are you going to ask me to get my fellow nobles to pitch in?"
"No. As that is, as you say, temporary. No, what I propose is information, perhaps even a demonstration. My original idea was to sell my plans to a merchant or other wealthy and influential leader in the community. Finding out that Screaming is nobility has changed that, and because her uncle is actually King of Griffonia, I can't simply walk up to him and say; "Hey, I gots an idea"." He air quoted with his fingers.
"So, you want me to help you with what? Finding a merchant?" He shook his head, she wasn't actually attempting to guess, more prompting him to get to the point.
"Nope. Give a person a fish, and you feed them for a day. Teach a person to fish, and you will feed them for a lifetime." He chuckled. Bible mumbo-jumbo really was working for him. "But first, tell me. What is Screaming lacking when it comes to gaining her land back? What is she doing wrong?"
"That is complicated,” she said slowly, “but I shall try and simplify it. She has to prove she can lead. And she has, but it's been limited. My fellow council members can see it, but are unsure if it is a fluke or not." She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea for the first time since this second half of the meeting began.
"I see." He hummed. "Was that why she was given a portion of the land back?"
"Yes, to see what she was capable of doing with it. So far, she has not been able to do much. Her family’s financial woes leave her unable to affect much in the region, however, and her uncle cannot be seen as helping her."
"That doesn't stop anyone else from helping, does it?" He watched her eyes narrow on him.
"My coffers are not endless either, colt." Dorothea von Hardwind said. "Enough avoiding the rising winds. What is it that you want?"
"One more question and I will answer you." As they were speaking, his mind had worked over an idea, a solution to satisfy him and his plans, and possibly help his friend secure her position. "Do you have up-to-date survey reports on the land given to Lady Grace Fairheart?"
She blinked in surprise.
"I do…why?"
Taking a deep breath, Orion took the plunge.
"Because I can do two things with that knowledge. First and foremost, help Screaming in securing her land by proving she can lead by delegation, if not by example. She doesn't need to do the work, but she can authorize it. Second, proving that my ideas work to your King so he cannot ignore what I say."
His speech got the expected reaction. Her beak flopped open as if losing all support in her jaw.
"And what could you possibly give us that would warrant my support?" She likely didn't mean for her voice to be breathy, but it was. He had her, now to sink the hook.
He smiled. "Steel." Orion let the anger go, now was time to cut a deal.
"Orion, why is it that you are the one dragging me about?" Scream said as her only real friend carried her baggage in his magic while tugging her toward the carriage. The carriage was outbound to a tiny flyspeck village known as Aviary. A farming community she had already visited in the spring.
Since Monday, he had been near frantic in his attempts to try and reach her. Every letter, was a declaration of apology. After two days, she finally relented, mostly because she felt bad for taking so long.
The young hen had forgiven her friend but had held onto her hurt longer than she should have. Her aunt was right. She had placed far too many expectations on him and saw more than was there in their relationship. It still burned her heart to look at him, but a noble was nothing without their determination.
At their first meeting since Saturday, however, she had been startled by his announcement that they were going on vacation, within a vacation.
"Scream, you've been cooped up in this castle for months, from what I gathered. You need to get out. I figure we can go sightseeing, and get away from political nonsense for a while." He said with a grin that said he was only speaking half the truth.
She should have resisted. But it had been almost a year since she last had an opportunity to get out of the capital.
Her uncle had not objected, only insisting that she take a full complement of soldiers with her. Gilda, thankfully, was one of them. Over the years, she had grown close to the Sergeant and felt she could trust her with her fears and worries. Though, she was still upset with her attempt to gain justice on her behalf.
Her aunt had been the one to tell her, and as she was Sergeant Broadwing's vassal, she had to be the one to administer punishment. She had yet to figure out what to assign her for suitable recompense.
Her aunt had been the strangest by far. Gabriele Fairheart had been almost angry, but not at her leaving the castle. At Orion.
Something had happened that neither one was willing to speak to her about, but when they had passed her on the way to leave, she had glared daggers at the back of his head.
What had Orion done?
The only other issue she could see was the fact that they were leaving by night, and from the seldom-used east exit. Almost like they were sneaking away.
"I figured you had tried to drag my happy ass about back in Canterlot so much, that I would show you how it is really done." He laughed at his own joke.
Screaming did not find it funny.
Arriving at the head of three carriages, and a troop transport, they stopped in front of Gilda, who had posted up next to their assigned ride.
"Is everyone set to go?" He asked warily of the Sergeant.
"He must still be worried that Gilda is going to attack him again." Scream couldn't help the smile that turned the ends of her beak up.
"Yes….sir." Her friend said through a clenched bill. Then shrugged. "Master Lonelycall will be a little late. Said to go on without him, that he would catch us up on the road before too long." She finished a bit less angry.
"Oh? Must be grabbing some extra bags of coffee." Orion mumbled. Shrugging his shoulders, he opened the carriage door and offered his hand. "Best to get going. We have a long night ahead of us."
Taking his hand, and placing a paw on the step, she turned and searched his eyes for any hint of the plan he had.
He simply grinned back, a twinkle in his eye, and half forced her inside.
"I cannot believe you agreed to this!" Gabriele practically hissed at him as she came through the lookout door.
Sigurd sighed. "Peace, my Fire." He groaned. This hadn’t been the first time she had brought up this argument.
She had been in a fury since the colt's return from Baroness Hardwind's manor Monday afternoon. Orion had been so tight-beaked about the meeting that even he was growing frustrated.
He almost refused his request. Then Dorothea herself contacted them.
The scope of Orion Falls's plan was much farther-reaching than he dared imagine. At first, he wanted to lock him down immediately. That knowledge was dangerous. Eberhard had been right. The colt knew how to make steel.
Gabriele had gone so far as to nearly arrange for the pony to simply disappear before he managed to stop her. Because of one arrangement the enigmatic pony himself had made.
His goal was to make Grace look good to the council. If he managed to have a forge built correctly, and it managed to churn out even one ingot of steel, there would soon be a new garrison placed in those lands. One that Celestia herself would find it hard to move against without worldwide outcry.
It was a little funny. The monarch of the ponies had created for herself an image of a kind and benevolent ruler in the years since the disaster of the Battle of Manehattan. She was boxed into the persona.
As long as he, or his descendants, did nothing against the Equestrians, they had nothing to fear. At least in the short term. The mare was patient if nothing else, and she would find a way to disrupt their interests eventually.
"Peace? Peace?!" She practically screeched. "Don't tell me, Peace! How could you agree with this?! If he really does know what Dorothea indicated, he should be locked away in the deepest reaches of our kingdom where not even that Whorse can get to him!"
Not for the first time did he remind himself that he had already sent the guards away, yet still he found himself wincing, placating hands in the air.
"Gabriele." He spoke sternly, bringing her tirade up short. "I understand your concerns. I share them. However, if we do as you suggested, Celestia will have leave to invade to save an innocent foal. Not to mention I think it is important not to place him in more trouble than he is already in. Likely by now, she knows he has left." He turned to her. "It is very likely she has already sent someone to retrieve him.
His Queen steadied herself with some deep breaths.
"I do not understand what would be so important about one pony, that she would send someone to retrieve him. Even if it is an orphan colt." The look he gave her, an arched eyebrow, made her sigh. "Yes, I suppose it's his proximity to her student." She tapped her beak.
"What is it?"
"I just remembered. I got a report this morning. I know how she found out about him being missing." That pulled a giggle from her. "She wanted him to visit for tea. Apparently, she was bored."
That made Sigurd's own beak pull into a smile. Perhaps she is closer to him than anyone really realized.
A cough behind him drew both royal's attention.
"Yes, Eber? Is everything ready?"
Eberhard came around a pillar, no doubt waiting for the right timing to not interrupt anything important.
"Yes, your Majesties." He bowed. "There are no agents of Celestia's amongst anyone in our entourage. In fact, I do not believe they are aware of anything at all. A few are deciding with themselves that perhaps they should take Orion in hand and return him to Equestria themselves. So far, they have refrained, for fear of the Princess's wrath at their exposure."
It was hard for Celestia to garner any kind of observation network in his kingdom for one simple fact. No ponies that lived in his lands had a position high enough to know anything. Only a few griffons willing to sell their souls for Equestrian gold were available to her, and they could only be trusted so far.
"I doubt they would be able to interfere. But best, they do not know. I think we were wise to schedule a nighttime departure." Sigurd muttered.
"I still think this is foolish." Gabriele groused.
"My Queen, if I may?" She nodded, and Eberhard continued. "This is actually the wisest course. If a steel forge were to start up here, inside Griffonstone, it would not take long before her agents were to learn of it. No one is that blind. Celestia only monitors this city. And Aviary still has their foundries, if long since decayed. There may still be a solid foundation he can make use of. That could accelerate his plans greatly."
His bride nodded after a moment.
"I am supposed to be better than this." She lamented. "Yet in the last week, I seemed to have lost my wits completely. You are right, Eberhard. I apologize." That last was meant for Sigurd instead.
"No injury was inflicted, my Fire." He turned back to Grace's Steward. "Is there anything else?"
"Actually, a pleasant surprise. I am not sure if he intended to or not, but I managed to get a glimpse of that notebook Orion carries with him."
That surprised both monarchs. It had been frustrating to even learn of the nature of the contents inside the satchel he did not allow to leave his side. They had learned through Dorothea that it was a small notebook, stuffed with extra papers.
"Well, please don't leave us in suspense, my friend. What is in it?" The King found himself asking eagerly. He cared not how his Listener had done it, just that he had.
"My King, he has ideas beyond just the agricultural, or forge. The plans inside that book could revolutionize our entire country. From the briefest of glances, he has ideas on how to improve air travel, roads, and a new design of what I believe might be a rolling printing press!"
It was one of the few times he had ever seen the reserved steward excited about anything.
"Nothing on…enchantments?" That had been an ice-cold claw to the heart. One of the other revelations Dorothea von Hardwind had confessed to had been the suspicion that Orion Falls may actually be an enchanter. The fact that she was willing to jeopardize the nation itself for her suspicions angered him greatly, but her hesitant confirmation that he was not what she thought, eased his own fears.
Still, now the seed was planted within his own head, and like a worm, it was eating at him slowly.
Thankfully the only thing that came of her actions was the colt's demonstration of a new ability, one her soldiers had no way of countering. It was terrifying to know Orion could simply reduce a force to pitiful cries and dropped weapons in an instant like that.
But the Baroness's belief that he may hail from beyond Burgandraw's Wall was a stretch he held little motivation for believing in.
"No, my Queen. Crystalmancy was the only magical skill he had written down. His knowledge on that subject is rather expansive." She waved any further explanation away.
One thing both he and his bride could agree on was that Orion Falls bore closer watching regardless of what happened in Aviary.
"Is there anything else of note?" He finally asked, wanting merely to find his bed and the few hours of peace that came with it.
"No, sire. As soon as I learn anything, the Eyes shadowing us will rush to tell you." He bowed deeply.
"Go then. Watch over them, my friend." Sigurd spoke quietly. The nature of the moment settling into him.
With a powerful flap of his wings, Eberhard Lonelycall darted silently from the lookout post carved into the side of the mountain.
Both monarchs stepped forward to watch as he descended down the mountainside at a breakneck speed before leveling out smoothly across the grassy planes. He would likely meet up with the carriages within the hour.
"You are right, my Kindling. This is the best path." She laced her fingers with his, squeezing them tenderly.
"And yet I feel as if I have set dominoes in a way that will only incur disaster, my Fire." He whispered, giving his own squeeze.
Neither ruler spoke of the hidden fear that was revealed by Dorothea von Hardwind. That Orion Falls may just be the enchanter, they had been looking for.
"What do you mean that Orion Falls is not in the palace?" Margarete kept her voice carefully calm. She had a reputation as a cool and well-controlled ruler, and she was not about to lose it over one individual.
Even if that person had nearly spoiled her dinner by not losing their wits.
Drystan's report had been accurate, but like any proper servant, had not mentioned it. The Duchess still could not get over the fact that his only discrepancy with the room she had chosen that night, was the purpose of the hunts.
"I-i-i-i mean," the maid before her stuttered out, "that…that the the…their rooms were found em…empty." She wanted to slap the hen.
Stilling herself, Margarete looked to Drystan, who stood behind the griffoness that had delivered the news. Grendel Razortip was one of two spies she had managed to weasel into the castle. The other had gone missing completely.
"Drystan, can you make sense of what this fool is trying to tell me?" She asked the drake.
Grunting, he placed a hand on the diminutive maid's shoulder, who was still dressed in the King's colors and spoke in his deep voice.
"Orion Falls and…the Hen," like her, he never used the chits name, "were discovered missing. From what I have gathered, for three days, they were said to be confined to their quarters, sick with something. I now believe that to be a ruse."
She barely bit back her snarky reply. Of all her servants, he was the most steadfast. It would not do to be rude to the one she relied on most. Other nobles could make that mistake, but not her.
"Have you anything to add?" The Duchess asked carefully.
"At this time, I am afraid I can only remark on the depletion of the castle guard." He spoke in an angered tone, and by the pained expression on Grendel's face, his grip must have increased significantly on her shoulder. Just like her, he did not like not knowing. "There is no definitive mention in the records of when a contingent of thirty combat-capable soldiers was dispatched. As of now, they seem to be still recording them as present."
Her grip on the ornate chair's armrests, shipped in from Neighbon, increased to the point where her claws dug in and destroyed the intricate carvings of grapes on vines.
She didn't care.
"What is that bastard up to now?!" She seethed inside. This had not been the first time the inept King of Griffonia had done something that had gone completely unnoticed by her till it was too late.
In fact, his habit of doing the unexpected had passed to his son. Prince Gerhard had launched his campaign against the bandits in the northwest so quickly she was still having trouble keeping those mercenaries in check.
Their commanders were beginning to grumble about their losses, and it was costing her more and more to keep them from simply abandoning their original mission.
She had only meant to destabilize those regions to show how weak the King's defense of the land was. Now, the bandits were juggling her commands of continued chaos, with the attempt to kill the Prince in any way possible.
Her thoughts were pulled back to the here and now by a cough. Drystan looked like he had more to say.
"What?" She spat, knowing it showed a crack in the facade she was trying to hold, and caring less about it the longer the meeting went on.
"I think there may be a correlation with something I heard Monday." Her tight nod was his only go-ahead. "Monday morning, Orion Falls arrived at the manor house of Baroness Dorothea von Hardwind. As of yet, we do not know what happened. There are rumors of a pair of loud explosions at the residence, though we cannot confirm as the streets were cleared by her personal guard moments before. However, soon after that supposed meeting, message traffic between House Hardwind and the castle increased exponentially."
Margarete's eyes widened. "Dorothea!"
The Baroness of Eastperch had been a thorn in her side since the day she had her husband died.
The Baron had fought hard to keep her claws off the late Lord Egon and Lady Petra Fairheart's land. So she had the old griffon killed in a hunting accident. The only one not to buy that particular tale was Dorothea von Hardwind herself.
Since then, the hen had made it her mission in life to thwart her at every turn. Her voice had stopped the full turnover of rights to the land early on. With the unwanted return of Grace, her attempts were now leaning the council to the upstart harpy's heritage, and not to her own more sensible leadership.
"Do you know what is in those messages?" Her voice shook with anger.
"I am afraid not, my Lady. They seem to be taking extreme caution. The letters are being burned the moment after they are read, and the messengers themselves are only the most trusted. We have no way of knowing what they are planning."
She pounded the armrests with both fists, snapping the wood supports off completely. This only fueled her rage.
"YOU!" She bellowed at the now terrified servant, pointing with a finger that shook. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"
Needing no other prompting, the spy scrambled out of the study, falling onto the floor only once in her dash for safety. She glowered at the door that slammed from the spy’s departure. The Duchess would have her killed later.
Margarete fixed her most loyal servant with a glare. It slid off of him like water. She clicked her beak loudly. Partly in amusement, mostly in frustration.
Drystan had weathered her rages with the same calm as a boulder in a storm. The fury of her tirades only washed away the unnecessary bits of him, making his ability to serve her even better.
"What…do you think he has planned?" She hissed vexedly. The Duchess didn't need to mention who she meant.
"With so little information to go on, I can only speculate." He spoke calmly, whatever anger he had suffered suppressed. "However, I have a theory."
She raised her eyebrows at him. If he had a theory, it was likely a more accurate summation of what was going on than what anyone else was likely to give her.
"Proceed."
He nodded. "When I say I have a theory, it is one of two. The first is simple, and may actually be what is happening. King Sigurd is attempting to bolster his son's recent losses in troops. From what our agents in the field have said, he has roughly lost around the same amount that is currently missing from the castle." She nodded. That made a lot of sense.
"The other?"
"The other, though, as I think about it now, might be more likely." Margarete's eyes narrowed. "Do you remember what Orion Falls did his very first day in Griffonstone?"
She searched her memory of what Drystan had told her of his arrival. "What is he asking…" She looked back at him in shock. Taking that as confirmation of what he was implying, he went on.
"The assistance he rendered to those refugees has spread to others in the city. For the first time in decades, there are more going out, than coming in." He paused, taking a breath. "My second theory and this would explain why both Falls and She are missing, is that they have traveled into the coastal lands to the east-"
"Where Grace Fairheart actually holds sway." She interrupted, and he merely nodded in confirmation. "You believe that she might attempt to use the knowledge Orion Falls has to improve the lives in the region."
"Yes, and with Hardwind support, they are effectively skirting the rules laid out in the Accords." She cursed.
It made perfect sense. "That sun-cursed pony is going to ruin all my plans! But how? It will take more than just helping some simple farm communities-" Her mind recoiled. "It couldn't be…" The land of Seacrest is rich in iron, according to the last survey, and Aviary has a forge. Three of them, in fact, though two are too far gone for any actual use.
"My Lady?" He must have noticed her look of alarm.
"Do we…?" She licked her beak nervously. "Do we have any spare mercenaries?"
"We do, my Lady." He waited on her to give the order.
"Who are they?" She stalled her command she needed truly expendable soldiers for this gambit.
"They are a recent hire. We got them at a reduced cost because several in their company are ponies. Their leader, Forgotten Conclusion, is one herself." His mouth twisted at the mention of a pony-led mercenary company. She had to agree with his sentiment, it was detestable that they were forced even to employ such a force.
"How long ago did we contract them?" She asked, ignoring her inner disgust. This could turn out very well.
"I believe we brought them on only last week." He offered one of his rare smiles. "It seems fortune has favored us with a solution to our predicament, and may even give us a cudgel to…persuade the council to our means, my Lady."
For the first time that evening, Margarete Rosebreast smiled.
Spitfire groaned, stretching her limbs out in all directions as she stepped off the train.
Her wings smacked Shining Armor in the face as he came out of the rail cart from behind her. He gagged as one of her primary's practically thrusted itself down his throat. He had been in the middle of a yawn.
"Lieutenant!" He spat, recoiling in disgust as he tasted the oil most pegasi liked to use to weatherproof their wings.
"Heh, sorry, Shining." She responded sheepishly, trying in vain to shake the unwanted drool now coating her wing.
Grumbling to himself, he turned to address the three-pony team that accompanied them. Three members of the Rover's special operations, all mares, came off the train, giggling as they gave sly glances between the unicorn and pegasus. Shining closed his eyes and counted to ten.
The trip up had been a stress test on the limits of his patience. All four mares had made it their mission to see how much they could get the young officer to blush. Spitfire being the worst, practically climbing into his lap any chance she got.
That didn't make the other three any less of an irritation. The specialists held a unique dynamic in the fact that they represented the three races of ponies in one herd. A herd without a stallion.
He suspected the only thing that kept them from outright propositioning him was the fact that he was the commanding officer for this mission. It would be fraternization. But the earth pony was beginning to get less humorless with the last few of her passes at him.
He was more than likely going to have to reject their Letter of Offer later.
Despite the restrictions, there were still heavy implications, mostly made by Earnest Hearts, about needs needing to be satisfied. Not that they were entitled to him.
Earnest was an Earth Pony and, shockingly, the smaller of the three operators. The dirt-colored pony always seemed to have a smile on her face.
The most outgoing of the group, Pestle Break, was a unicorn. She was known far and wide for her tendencies to shoot first and ask questions later, if at all. He would have to be extra specific in his instructions with the cherry-colored mare.
Storming Wing was the last, and the most unusual. Unlike most pegasi he had met, the pegasus had been subdued since learning of their mission's objective. A brief inquiry revealed that she had stayed in the same orphanage as Orion Falls. She left a year later, being adopted out to a family in Cloudsdale.
Something had happened between them, and she had expressed her reluctance to be in the same room alone with the target.
While he was musing, the group had stopped to look about them with interest. Babbling excitedly with each other as they pointed out the more gothic architecture not seen back in Equestria.
Shining instead had noticed how quickly the streets were emptying out. He sighed heavily.
Initially, Command had wanted them to arrive in full gear. To impress upon the griffon people the importance of their mission.
Fortunately, Captain Broadblade had vetoed that asinine idea. Stating their already negative standing with the Griffonians would likely worsen if that proposed plan had been implemented. Shining Armor had agreed with the stallion.
Changing strategies, the First Lieutenant had advised civilian clothing for the mission. That had been a tough sell in the three hours up to departure, but Command had relented as long as they carried chainmail under their garments.
Watching the citizens of the broken nation clear the streets, it was clear that they could not hide their militant nature. His father had once told him it was in the way they held themselves that was difficult to disguise.
In this case, it was likely the flood of griffonian refugees that had poured out of the carriages ahead of them. He had not been able to keep their nature hidden from them, as mares will gossip and loudly. Still, they had to go with the original plan.
Turning back to the three-pony Rover team, he addressed them.
"You three will make your way to the mercantile district. Orion Falls may be there, as he is a known window shopper." He gestured to himself and Spitfire. "Spitfire, and I shall head to the castle. Remember, no ranks or titles are to be mentioned within earshot of the common griffon." He turned to go after they all gave nods, then stopped. "Oh, and don't buy anything that will weigh you down."
That last command was in case the colt had, for some reason, skipped town and went to another location for reasons unknown to them. From his single conversation with Orion, he got the feeling that the colt would not be able to stay in place for too long. Being on his own for over three weeks was a long time.
The three mares turned away, giggling and walking toward the ticket counter. They began quietly bickering with each other on what to purchase.
He wanted to smack them. It was like they hadn't even listened.
"Are you sure that's wise, Shining?" Asked Spitfire, flapping her wings lightly, likely adjusting them so she could walk properly.
The pony's wings were a bit larger than normal, so she was prone to adjusting them periodically when not in flight.
He shook his head and joined her in heading down the street on a direct course for the castle.
"No, but at the same time, we cannot just walk into King Fairheart's castle. I doubt very much that we will be able even to meet the griffon if there are more than two of us." He sighed. "Plus, those three are rather loose-lipped. I don't need them overwhelming any royals we may meet there."
"Makes sense, I suppose. You really think Orion might not be here?"
Spitfire was not stupid. She knew exactly why he had commanded them not to purchase anything larger than a knickknack.
"The colt has a habit of doing things he shouldn't." Was all he said, shrugging his shoulders under the weight of his pack. The wrapped sword between his shoulder blades just barely reminded him that he was not unarmed in this unfamiliar territory.
Weapons had been a touchy subject, like with the armor, command wanted them to go in with their tools fully displayed. This was an idea he shot down just after they departed when no senior officer could overrule him in front of his team.
If not for the fact that he was in charge of the mission, the mares would have likely balked at the idea of keeping their armaments concealed.
Spitfire and Storming themselves had to keep their wing blades in their packs entirely, opting instead to carry a pair of long daggers on their belts wrapped in a wide cloth belt.
"Come, we need to get to the castle early. King Fairheart is likely to make us wait enough as it is. I don't want to be leaving near midnight." He grumbled.
When he was still a Second Lieutenant, he had been forced to stand in for a state dinner. Griffon nobles and Equestrian gentry had been invited to dine in the castle in an effort to renew the bonds of friendship.
Shining had felt it was more of a reminder to everypony there just who Princess Celestia was. That had been odd to him at the time, as he was still new to having to deal directly with royalty.
Upon seeing Griffonia's King for the first time, he realized why.
King Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart was a proud ruler. Even with his kingdom in shambles. He never once bowed to the Princess, which rankled more than a few lords and ladies above him, and all the nobles agreed.
The griffon gave off the impression of a mountain. Every look the Princess sent his way seemed to crash harmlessly off him. Like stone weathering the sun.
He would likely deal with them on his own time.
"I just wanted to enjoy my vacation…"
"Why can't you just teleport?" Spitfire asked for the tenth time since they started up the mountain.
The fiery-maned mare had taken to flying sometime after they had reached the third platform, and had been complaining of the slow pace ever since.
"Well," he huffed, "for two reasons." He placed another hoof forward and shoved off, forcing himself by sheer direction of force alone to go forward. In truth, while he was a bit winded, he could carry on this way for hours more. His instructors had been brutal in their task, mostly trying to get the stallion to quit rather than pursue a career in the military as his father had done.
They made it to a landing, and Spitfire landed to stretch her wings while he stopped to explain his reasonings.
"First and foremost, I can teleport. However, I am not as talented as my sister, it takes a lot out of me in order to cast." He said in a rush, sucking in air. Maybe he wasn't in the best of shape.
Sergeant Pepper would be seething at him.
"And the second?" She smirked at him. The diminutive pegasus belongs to a race of people so light, they might as well be made of air. Little effort was needed to fly for them, or run.
"The second." He said with more poise than before. "Is the fact that it is rude to cast magic around griffons. They're rather sensitive to the fact that they have less control over the weather than your race. Add in a unicorn performing acts that would leave the strongest amongst them put out, and you have a recipe for hostility. Or at least noncompliance."
"Um, I hate to say it, but who cares? We're ponies. What do we care about other species' hang-ups?"
The fact that she said that with the sheer cluelessness of a foal made him ground his teeth.
In his time of traveling the world, performing different missions, and interacting with local officials in those areas, he found that ponies had a rather insular way of looking at the world.
He had been no better at first. It hadn't been till he was a part of a rescue mission saving some Zerbricans from an Abyssian attack that he came to realize that everypony had their troubles, wants, and desires. Those people were no different.
"As far as you are concerned, we want cooperation." He didn't have the time nor patience to try and educate the arrogant mare on the nuances of diplomacy, which she should have already known as she went through nearly the same training as himself.
"Oh. Well, look! We are almost there!" She pointed.
Sure enough, not twenty yards away was the main gate.
"Thank the Tree."
Once he had adjusted himself, and gotten his breathing back under control, they proceeded to the gates.
"Is the Officer of the Watch available?" He asked the griffon guard, who had lowered his spear to block the way once they reached them. The old armor, with its few rust spots here and there, did not lend much to an intimidating presence.
"State your business." That was all he said. Shining could see Spitfire rustling. He was beginning to worry he was with a pony supremacist. He gestured for her to remain calm.
"My name is First Lieutenant Shining Armor. This is Second Lieutenant Spitfire of Equestria's Air Defense. We are here on orders from her Highness, Princess Celestia, to make contact with His Majesty, King Fairheart."
The soldier eyed their clothing, then stared into both ponies' eyes. Nodding once, he turned to his companion.
"Keep them here. I will get the lieutenant." Once out of sight, the other guard turned and gave them a considering look.
"You’re here for Orion." That was not a question.
"We are. He is away from Equestria without permission, he must return."
The griffon grinned. "From what I've heard, he's an orphan. Whose permission does he need?"
Shining debated how much to tell the soldier, and shrugged.
"He departed Canterlot without the permission of his matron, with no escort. As a minor, he does not have the privilege of doing as he pleases."
Spitfire simply watched the exchange, carefully keeping her expression neutral, but her eyes were indignant.
The gate guard simply shrugged. "Likely not gonna get him to come back till he's ready." The stallion deigned not to answer that remark.
Soon enough, the other guard returned, an officer in tow. The hen looked annoyed.
"What's this I hear about official business for the…Princess?" The pause was noticeable, as was the implied disrespect.
Before his pegasus companion could open her mouth in an angry retort, he shot her a glare so hard he might as well have struck her.
Once he was certain of her silence, he turned and address the cantankerous Officer of the Watch.
"We are here on official business from Her Highness, Princess Celestia. This business is directed toward King Fairheart, and the parties involved."
The officer sneered at him, taking in his clothes and dress. "And what if the King doesn't wish to see the likes of you?"
"Then, per agreement through the Treaties of Neighbon, we will be forced to remain longer within your nation's borders to complete our objective, possibly send for more soldiers to speed our mission along."
Those treaties essentially allowed Equestrian armed forces to march across Griffonian soil as they pleased, as long as the reasoning was well put.
The hen's sneering look soured.
"Fine. Follow me, and do not fall behind. You unicorns, I hear, are a lazy lot." She huffed and spun to march into the castle, both ponies staying right behind her.
Spitfire shot an angry, questioning look which he swiped a hand ending it before she said anything.
Explanations would come later.
The explanation, turns out, was to happen once they were left alone in front of an ordinary iron-bound door down one of the darker halls inside the keep.
"What…was that?" Spitfire hissed at him, completely ignoring protocol.
"That was diplomacy. You cannot get upset at every slight somepony else says. We have an image to uphold."
"Even at the cost of slander to the Princess?!" She took a threatening step toward him.
"Absolutely. Remember, this is not her land. It is theirs, and considering the history between our people, that was a better outcome than I expected. I half believed they would leave us at the gate until the King could make time for us."
"But-"
"They are just words, Lieutenant. Just. Words." He said in his most soothing voice. "Yes, I agree it's disrespectful. But it is not our place to judge them. We cannot dictate their beliefs."
She deflated.
"It's not right." She muttered quietly. He merely nodded.
The door cracked open, and a guard peeked out at them.
"His Majesty will see you now." Shining blinked in surprise. Had they actually caught the griffon monarch on a free day?
"Thank you." He nodded, looking over his shoulder to be sure Spitfire followed.
She was, looking defeated.
Inside was the office of a busy ruler. And he had to admit, he was surprised by how small it was.
In Canterlot, the lowest government functionary had personal offices three times this size. For the King to choose such small accommodation said a lot about his character. Simple, and straightforward, the furniture was from a variety of hands save for the desk and chair that Sigurd Fairheart currently sat at, busily writing something down.
At a gesture from the guard, Shining stepped forward to give a small bow and was relieved to see his sullen companion doing the same.
"Enough of that. You are not mine to command. You are not mine to give regard to." He said as he watched them from the corner of his eyes. Setting his quill into a holder, the monarch of griffons finally looked at him. "I am informed that you are here on Princess Celestia's orders. For the colt Orion Falls, yes?"
"That is correct, your Majesty. Orion Falls left the safety of Canterlot, more importantly, the orphanage there, without a word or leave request. Merely leaving a note indicating his intentions and where he may have gone."
"He did mention that to me." He tapped his beak, one Shining was familiar with. It meant the griffon was thinking about how to proceed and wanted their guest to wait. "As it is, I am afraid he is no longer in the capital. He and my niece, whom he came to visit, wanted to visit the slopes of Sheertop, on the Garberithian Mountains southwest of here."
That was too easy an answer, and, more than likely, a lie. The question was, why? And more importantly, where had they really gone?
"Do you have an itinerary of their journey?" He asked evenly. Calling him out would be a bad idea. He had no proof of the King’s deception.
"No, I am afraid not. Though I do know that they took West Pinion Road. That area is currently rife with banditry, and that was the safest path. Still, I sent a large contingent of guards with them, so they should not be too difficult to follow."
"Then, I thank you for your assistance, your Majesty." He sketched a quick bow and turned to leave, already running what the griffon said in his head, trying to sift fact from lie.
"A moment, if you would, Lieutenant." Came the King's heavy voice.
"Yes, your Grace?"
"Why does the Princess care so much about one colt? So much so that she would send three members of the Rovers, an EAD officer, and you." He smirked. "A candidate for betrothal to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza."
He could practically feel Spitfire's eyes bulge from behind him. Shining suppressed a groan.
"In truth, I do not know. He is, as you say, one colt. Not even one of much note." The griffon king grinned, a disturbing display. His look said he knew the white stallion was lying through his teeth.
"Very well, be well and safe journeys, Lieutenant. May the winds favor you."
Shining quickly pushed the Second Lieutenant out the door.
Sigurd suppressed a laugh. He had certainly gotten one over on the pony. From the way his companion had swallowed her tongue, it was clear that no one had known.
Well, nothing like a little social disruption to keep that Princess on her hooves.
He could hear his wife's soft laughter from behind the bookcase. She had insisted on sitting in on this one. Pushing aside the false shelf, Gabriele stepped out with a wicked smile. "Could not help yourself, could you, my Kindling?"
"No. I suppose I could not." He chuckled.
"He did not believe you." He nodded at that. Shining Armor's eyes had narrowed just a fraction at his contrived lie. A quick one, that pony was.
"Are your people in place?" He meant the Speakers. Agents whose sole duty was to spread misinformation or give commands to agents in the field.
"Yes. I've been reliably informed that each member of the Rovers has been speaking only to my agents." She smirked, and he mirrored her expression.
They had been expecting their arrival for some time and may have gone overboard, infiltrating shops and businesses with their own. Gabriele had thought there would have been more, but the Princess may not have wanted to draw too much attention.
Still, this was good. They would not encounter anyone they were not supposed to.
"I will ask. Do you think it is wise to attempt to send him and his team westward?" She asked, settling herself into his lap, her dress hiked up. "I thought we had agreed to let them twiddle their thumbs here in the capital."
Snaking his arms around her waist, he smiled up at her. She had forgotten her undergarments today.
"It was, till I saw who she had sent. That stallion is a surprisingly earnest young drake. Much like our niece's young friend. The difference is, he is much more inclined to be respectful. His willingness to help others has been well noted by you and your agents."
It was true. Shining Armor had demonstrated a remarkable willingness to help any, no matter the species. He has been accredited with numerous rescues of the Zebrican people alone.
Gabriele nodded thoughtfully as she popped one of his buttons off. Moments like these often left his bride heated. Successful manipulations and the occasional surprise were often followed by long moments spent behind closed doors.
"You clever old bird. I suppose sending him west is two-fold?" Delicately, he undid the ties on her corset. She could destroy his clothes all she wanted, but if Sigurd tore a single thread, he would never hear the end of it.
"Our son just happens to use that road to achieve his own objectives. It would not surprise me if the two met up, and he could finally capture the ringleaders of those damnable bandits."
“My, oh my! You are learning to be clever!” she giggled. “I liked that. Knowing the good Lieutenant Armor, he will likely render assistance to Gerhard in hope of earning a boon.”
“My thoughts exactly, my Fire.” He spread the corset apart, allowing her to slip it over her wings and arms with ease. Though still covered, her breasts bounced delightfully.
“Now that, is worthy of a reward.” She said heatedly.
Their beaks nestled together, and all thoughts of political intrigue left their minds for a while.
Author's Note
Woooo! The final chapter of the day, boys and maybe a few girls!
Thanks for hanging in there.
I will not be posting anything until the middle of January. The reason is I just need a break, and I would love to take time to connect with my partner, as the new job has kind of forced us further apart. That just won't do.
However, I won't be not writing. I'm gonna get things written up and have a more grounded reality for my work.
I want every single one of you to have a wonderful holiday season. Take care of yourselves, hydrate, and go be around the family if ya can.
As always, please leave a comment. Let me know how y'all are feeling.
Thanks for reading. Peace!
The Fool
"Orion, remind me again why we are here?" Scream asked as they stood side by side, looking down from the road onto a rather large village. It wasn’t the size of Ponyville. However, during their arrival, Orion had spotted several clusters of thatched-roof homes surrounded by fields. It seemed the people of Griffonia operated around a system of communal farming. Multiple families banding together to take care of larger plots of land as compared to ponies' more singular method.
As he mulled over how to answer Scream’s question, he stretched, letting the muscles relieve tension, and his joints rewarded him with satisfying popping as they shifted back into place. It had been a long week of overland travel. Much of that time he had spent inside the carriage, pouring over his notes, working out what he planned to do. While they had been in transit, he had been a busy pony and was quickly developing a plan with the information Eberhard was providing him.
He had been surprised to learn, that his friend had already been to Aviary before. An attempt to show her leadership skills and her ability to sort through problems on her own and solved them. It worked…okay-ish.
The improvements this time would be something far and way better. Per the agreement between himself and Lady Hardwind, a shipment would arrive at their destination. It was important that he had everything ready by the time the equipment arrived within the week.
At night, they pulled to a stop and hobbled the animals that were not quite horses. But he kept his notes with himself at all times to check, then agonized over his decisions, and double-checked. It was agony.
Screaming had remained mostly quiet. She had forgiven him, even apologized for her own mistakes, but had otherwise stayed distant. It was clear that while she was ready to resume their friendship, it would be at a much slower pace. Though, in the case of what he had planned for the largest town under her control, she did ask a lot of questions.
Once they had gotten underway, he and Eberhard had explained to her the idea and plan they were going to implement. Orion wasn't too surprised to find out that the King had an idea of what he was up to here. Instead, he was more confused as to why the monarch had not approached him about his plans just before he left. Instead, the King had set his friend to pump him for information. That revelation had confirmed his suspicions of Screaming's steward. The griffon was no mere servant of his friend. Though as to what his role was in government, he still had no idea, nor was the thin griffon talking about it.
The reason behind choosing Aviary of all places was two-fold. It was far away from the Equestrian border, and its position on the Cliffs of Handover was perfect in thwarting all but the most determined of assaults. It was why the once mighty forge town had been placed there originally.
The second reason was the location of natural resources in the surrounding countryside.
The up-to-date maps Baroness Hardwind was in possession of showed more than just the hopeful coal and iron in the area. To the east were what he was hoping were salt fields, which meant a salt mine could be opened. That alone was worth the trip as he remembered that back on earth, before planes, trains and automobiles became a thing, salt, and similar minerals were pricey and difficult to get to.
The only discrepancy was that sometime in the past nine years or so, a tribe of Diamond Dogs had set up a den just north of the settlement. They hadn't approached the town since the last census, but that could have changed. Orion did not like unknowns, this project had gotten far bigger than he wanted it to, and any issues could work against him.
It was slow, but the group of soldiers that had accompanied them had warmed up to him. Which was great. Initially, they were pissed at him over the fact that in his cowardice, he had hurt Screaming. It was only after he had explained what had happened, being cornered inside their own wagon, that they had eased up on him. Some were still upset, but they no longer blamed him as he hadn’t intended to deceive their liege Lady.
The upside of the altercation was he had begun spending mornings being drilled in combat exercises. Mostly hand to hand, as they didn't trust him not to hurt himself with a practice blade.
He was right, pony martial arts was bunk, and he had the bruised ribs to show for it. Unfortunately, his ribs decided to remind him of this by sending pained signals to his brain at the peak of his stretch. He doubled over to grab his sides.
The black pony gave his friend a withering glare from his bent-over position. "Are you going to start complaining? Now?" He asked.
"No, just…Orion, I remember this place. There wasn't much to do." She lamented. He sighed. She was still a teenager, and not really wanting the responsibility of leading people. "And to be honest, they all looked at me like they expected something."
Orion nodded sadly. They did expect something of her. Hope. The same type of hope they had for her parents back when they were alive. Scream, no, Grace Fairheart had a lot riding on her shoulders. The expectation of her uncle, the people she had been placed over, and the legacy of her parents.
He had learned a lot about Lord Egon and Lady Petra Fairheart, they were a power couple more favored than even Sigurd and his wife was now. Considerate, giving, and willing to set the finery aside to actually get in there, and labor with their people. In his not-at-all-professional opinion, they were true leaders.
"Scream, I gotta ask." He mentally cursed himself for constantly falling back on that childhood name. "Do you actually want to honor your parents? To do right by them?"
It was a question of her resolve. So far, the Lady of House Fairheart had been hesitant and listless, unwilling or unable to really commit to anything. Their nighttime deliberations had been spent more on reassuring her that this was the right path and that she was the only person willing to do right by the people she was placed over. Orion didn't like asking that question but felt he needed to prod her.
"I do!" She exclaimed while throwing up her hands. "I do…but…what if I fail? What if I make the wrong choice?"
"You could very well one day make a wrong choice, but right now, you are surrounded by the right people who want to see you succeed." He pointed down at the village, whose occupants had finally taken notice of them. "If you listen, and we make sure it's the right path, you will prove that your heart is in the right place. With that, you will have the assistance of two of the most powerful people in the nation, and they're family to boot."
"But you're gonna leave eventually." She muttered quietly.
"Yeah, I am. I still have my studies to finish and my own life to lead. But!" He gestured at her with his index finger. "You still won't be alone. Your uncle and aunt have a knack for reading folks; learn that, so when you take on projects that might be too much for you to handle, you'll be able to figure out who to put in charge of the assignments you can't do." He grinned. "Besides, I'm only a letter away."
Scream gave a weak smile, and nodded.
Orion sighed again. Perhaps it was unfair of them to ask so much of her. She was just one person, overwhelmed by her family's loss, and had no real allies to help her directly. Baroness Hardwind was taking a large enough gamble as it was selling supplies to him at cost, and his friend had still not learned of the ultimate goal, yet.
He grimaced at his negotiations with Dorathea. No matter how he had pressed the old bird, she would not budge on that. If the nobles were ever to learn her role in this scheme, it would have to be in the loosest terms, or she wouldn't have cooperated no matter how much blackmail he had on the noble.
He had to give her props for her own self-preservation. Or she had realized before he did that, despite her actions, he did not have as much hold on her as he had originally believed.
Shaking his head, he turned toward the present, and toward an approaching group of griffon villagers. They were short people in comparison to himself, and these were even smaller than the nobles he had encountered in the capital.
At their group's head, was a somewhat taller griffon hen. She nearly reached Screaming's height. She was broad-shouldered, with powerful arms that rotated in anticipation of a confrontation.
"I am Grendal Plumage-" She said harshly, then halted in her steps. "Lady Fairheart? Is that you? We were not expecting to see you till next year in the spring." As she said this, the group, including herself, gave a low bow to his long-time friend.
"True, I had not scheduled a return till that time. But," her uncertain look toward Orion rewarded her with a small nod and a smile, "circumstances have prompted my return much sooner than either of us suspected."
Grendal had, of course, noticed him immediately.
"Forgive me, my Lady, but who is the…pony?" Her beak bent uncomfortably around the word.
"Forget it. I am going to find out just how in the hell their beaks do that if it kills me. It should be impossible!" He had spent long enough amongst them to notice how ridged they were, the fact that bent in the fair approximation of a normal face should not have been possible, and he was beginning to believe that he would only find a way through dissection.
"This is my friend, Orion." She gestured with a smile. "Orion, this is the Burgermeister of Aviary."
He had laughed the first time he had heard of the title of leaders in small towns of Griffonia, and even now, he barely bit back a chuckle as he leaned forward to shake the mayor's hand.
"A pleasure. I am just a tag-a-long. Came up from Equestria to visit Grace here. We used to live under the same roof when we were young." He said as their hands shook.
Griffon's claws are surprisingly soft. Grendel's was not. Hard and callous, this was a hen that worked the field as hard as her constituents.
Being introduced as simply a friend who was following her out as she was about her duties had been Eberhard's idea. During the brief time before departure, he and the steward had worked out the fact that his name shouldn't be attached to the project if at all possible. So Orion's role in this was to act as the clueless friend and let the adults be seen giving the directions.
The mayor went to give him a bow once she heard the word "friend".
"Ah!" He snapped, perhaps too harshly. "Please, don't do that. Despite the company I am fortunate enough to keep, I am in no way a noble. Just an orphan." He smiled gently, to take the sting out of his snap.
"Oh. I apologize." Relief seemed to flood the features of her stern face. She must have been worried that she would have to bow and scrape anytime he popped up.
"Naw, no need." He waved it off as he and the Burgermeister stepped away from one another.
Nodding politely, Grendal Plumage turned to Scream.
"Forgive me, my Lady, but what circumstances have occurred to bring you back to us?" A polite way of saying what the hell they were doing here.
"We have found…records. Records that may secure my hold on my father's lands permanently. However, I do not wish to get anyone's hopes up as of yet. First, I wish to know the state of the old forges."
From what Eberhard had informed him on the journey here, there was a trio of massive forges located on the east side of the town. A stream that broke off from a river passed through them, providing an easy way to get water for quenching. They had chosen the site in case there was an emergency, they would have plenty of water on hand.
The question had gotten Grendel to cock her head in that odd way griffons did.
"My Lady, the state of the forges has remained the same since the last time you were here." She replied with puzzlement.
"A fair point. However, my neglect of what should still be a critical industry has forced me to inquire. I was not focused on that aspect of the town. I apologize for my lack of attention." Screaming said with solemnity.
It was weird to see her speak and act in such a manner. When he did it, it felt forced. But for Grace Fairheart, it seemed as natural as breathing, and the air about her seemed to change. It was like years were suddenly piled onto her shoulders, and she bore it with a surprising dignity.
"You have nothing to apologize for, my Lady. These days we rarely consider the forge unless it's for simple repairs. As it is, we have one still in service. Including the foundry attached to it." The Burgermeister said, gesturing with a hand for the party to follow. "The old barracks have been cleaned and prepped, we did not want a similar incident to last time.” The last time was that every soldier and servant that had come out on her first trip, had been forced to live in tents for a month. “We feel ashamed that it had not been before your arrival this past spring." She lamented.
"Right." Barked the Oberst that had come with them on the assignment. From what Orion had been told, his rank was equivalent to a colonel in the Equestrian armed forces. "All right, you sad sacks of stuffed feathers! Grab your kits and stow your gear. I expect a rotation in front of me in less than an hour. Fail that, and I’ll have your flanks running till dawn in full battle rattle. Do not disappoint me!”
The pony had come to like Oberst Otto Goodwing. Much friendlier than his maid of a niece, Valka. She was, unfortunately, with them too and had been staring daggers at him every morning.
"I am afraid our stay will be longer this time around, Burgermeister Plumage. Is there available lodging for my entourage?" Scream gave a pained expression, as if reluctant to ask at all.
"We do, my Lady. Though I fear they may not be in as good of condition as the barracks. I'm afraid that some of our residents have departed in recent years, and we've not had the time to clean and repair them beyond a few patches." The mayor tapped her beak. "I do believe it will just take some simple cleaning to make them presentable. I do not believe any of the windows were broken during last month's sea squall."
This was perfect. It had been determined by Eberhard that he not be seen doing anything that may connect him to the project itself. In the evening, they would go over what needed to be done the next day. But otherwise, he would just make use of himself with various projects around the town, and be seen being given orders by his friend
"Excuse me." He spoke before Scream, or the town leader could go on. "Grace, since I'm kind of a third wheel, why not let me clean the houses? I got some spells that should make short work of the rooms, and I can do a general scan of the structures to make sure they are sound."
Grendel's face soured. Clearly, she did not like the idea of a pony running loose in her village.
"Mrs. Evergarden ended up making you part of the staff, didn't she?" Scream gave him a smile.
"Well, considering I am practically a permanent resident, I guess she figured why not." He smirked back. "Still, sound like a plan?"
"Hold a moment." His friend turned to the mayor, and she nodded graciously. "I can see your distrust Burgermeister Plumage. Magic is not something even I am comfortable with. However, he is right, and I fear the nature of our conversation will need to be private, not for non-Griffonian ears."
The broad-shouldered hen bowed low. "If you vouch for him, I have no trouble allowing this. As long," she turned to him, "you stay to cleaning and making the homes sound."
"Of course!" Orion replied smoothly. "If I find anything wrong, I'll make a list for you to check over later. Once all whatever you guys plan to do is done. Cool?"
Grendel nodded, it was unsure and hesitant, but she called over a thick-necked drake who gave him a distrustful look.
“Aw, shit, looks like I am going to be watched like a hawk.”
"Take Lady Fairheart's guest to the Hardfeather's old place, and stay with him should he need anything." Meaning; make sure he doesn't do anything she wouldn't approve of.
"Valka?" Scream turned to address the diminutive griffon, who had marched up behind them with all the luggage. She and a handful of other servants had been assigned for the cooking and cleaning of their homes away from home. "Go with Orion. Odds are you will not be able to help, as I am positive he will do whatever he does faster than you can."
"As you say, my Lady." Absolutely no trace of anger, but when Screaming turned away from her, the tabby hen shot him a glare so violent it was a wonder he didn't burst into flames. Why in the hell was she so pissed at him?
"Excellent. Burgermeister Plumage? If you would show me to the forges, we can determine what will need to be done to get all three up to full capacity." With the poise and grace that was her station, Grace Fairheart proceeded down the path, Grendel Plumage in tow, breathlessly asking why they would need more than one forge. “Oh, I would also like to discuss the state of various….”
The griffon drake took one look at his leader, then glared at them, particularly Orion. Grunting, he gestured to follow and marched away.
"Ah, back to a sore inconvenience, eh?" He shouldered one of his packs while levitating the other two. "I feel like my life has become a sitcom. "Everybody Hates Orion", or some shit." He lamented as the Griffonian entourage followed after the disgruntled villager.
She was wearing a hole in the brand new Saddle Arabian rug that the Princess had gifted her for Hearth's Warming. The exotic scroll work had delighted her at first, but like many things not dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, Twilight just did not have it in her to find enjoyment in the mundane things that interested other ponies for longer than a few weeks.
It was why her clothes had largely stayed the same over the years. The familiar patterns and colors were an unchanging comfort for the filly, and it was hard to accept new things in her life.
Noting the damage she was inflicting upon the floor covering was only momentary as it was.
Her brother had been recalled suddenly, and Shining had given her no reason other than it was an emergency.
Princess Celestia had unfortunately been unavailable to her for reasons that had not been explained. That made her uncomfortable, especially because of the rumors she had heard.
The monarch was in a fury over something and had canceled several meetings in response. No pony had a clue as to what could have caused such a disruption. Twilight didn't know what to do. It was as if some cruel twist of fate, or some angry spirit, had ripped away all that was familiar, that was a source of comfort.
Her parents had also left Canterlot, taking Spike with them. Her mother had a book signing tour and thought it a great idea to take her little brother with her. Her father, of course, went with her too to support her, and likely was looking forward to all the free food that came with those events she was asked to attend.
Not wanting to stay alone in her large family home, she had gone back to her rooms in the castle.
Now, she sat and paced the floor in worry that she might be the reason the Princess wasn't speaking to her.
Her legs hurt from so much activity that went nowhere.
Sitting at her desk, Twilight attempted to sort through her emotions. Logically she was fine. She should be fine. But since the beginning of the school year, she had been on a strange sort of edge. That had only gotten worse.
The question was, what was really bothering her?
Him.
Orion was what was bothering her. They had not spoken since he had tricked her into screaming at the one who had taught her so much. Princess Celestia had claimed it was no bother. She even admitted to it being rather amusing, even if she vented some disgruntlement at her longtime friend's behavior.
Laying her head on the desk, she sighed wistfully. Twilight had yet to forgive him for that.
That pony always seemed to find a way to embarrass her. Not to mention he seemed to know a lot more than her about certain things she had not found anywhere and took full advantage of that fact. But none of that is what bothered her. She liked that he was so smart.
No, what had truly upset her went back further than just this past school year. Back to the night on the castle steps after a disastrous first study session that ended with him getting injured and her still developing feelings being broken.
Orion did not want a herd or a family of his own one day. She couldn't understand why that was. To make matters worse, was he dismissed her feelings as if they were superficial, that they didn’t, or shouldn’t at least, involve him.
Then during her first real Estrus Season, she had made a muck up of everything and attempted to have her way with him. Thank the Tree that he managed to maintain some semblance of sanity because she was too far gone to actually notice. Which left her with the burning question of why it had suddenly affected her so much.
Her mind was brought back to the day of the prank that tore a hole in their rapport with one another. Twilight thumped her head against the desk. No. She had already forgiven him for his prank. It was herself she was having a difficult time forgiving. She had nearly destroyed their friendship because she couldn’t rationalize why he would do that, even after he had explained it to her.
"Our friendship…" She mused in her own head sullenly.
Turning to lay her head back on the table, she spotted Starswirl's Predictions and Prophecies . She had ignored the enigmatic pages hidden in that tome for a couple of years now, primarily at the behest of Princess Celestia. Now seeing it again, she was reminded of the dread she felt reading some of the passages. Nightmare Moon's return being chief among those. Twilight pushed the book away, she didn't want to add uncertain fear on top of her already abysmal disposition.
Drumming her fingers, the purple filly tried to come up with something to do. With the Princess momentarily denied to her, or so she hoped, and her parents and siblings out of the city. Options were very limited.
She could go and see whether or not Moon Dancer and her friends wished to spend time together. The relationship with the four had come a long way from the tentative first meetings and awkwardly quiet study sessions.
She smiled at the thought of seeing them until, of course, Twilight remembered they had gone on a trip together to Manehattan.
Minuette's mom was chaperoning that adventure.
They had offered for her to come along, but her brother was to be home for the summer, and she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he was sent out again.
"Well, there is that option out the window." The purple filly chuckled ruefully as she realized that she was beginning to sound a lot like Orion.
It looked to Twilight like she was going to have to forgive the black pony sooner than she had planned. Meaning she would have to let go of her own guilt. There was a sour point to the enforced decision, it was out of boredom rather than the right thing, that made her choose today to be the day she patched things up with her friend.
With a sigh, she pushed herself up and out of the chair and away from the desk in one motion.
"I will have to notify the guard where I'm going." She thought as a bit pouch, and a few books floated to her in the purple hue of magic that was her own. Setting her hand on the doorknob, the young mare sighed heavily and opened the door.
"This is very, very strange." Twilight thought to herself as she stepped up to the orphanage door.
When she had informed the servants of her plans, their expressions had turned worried. No. More like wariness. As if they had expected her intentions and were dreading it.
When she had asked for a carriage to Orion's orphanage from the Stable Mistress, she had been asked if she was certain that was her destination. Now, turning back, she saw one carriage puller biting her lower lip; the rest were stoic resignation.
"What is going on?"
Her attention went back to the door, and the pulley bell rope in an alcove carved next to the door. Reaching out, she wrung the bell twice and waited.
Just when her hand reached out to pull the rope again, Mrs. Evergarden answered the door; her mane's normal tight look was a bit frazzled looking.
"Yes- Oh…Lady Sparkle. A-a-a pleasant surprise!" She said while looking, not at all pleased by her arrival, not angry, but scared. "What…brings you to my orphanage today?"
First, the servants, then the guards, and now Mrs. Evergarden. Something was going on, and Twilight was determined to find out what.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Evergarden. I am here to see Orion. If he is not too busy." She forced a cheery smile onto her lips. The way the Matron's worried expression seemed to turn sickly at the mention of her friend's name made her stomach sink.
"Ah…I'm afraid he is not here right at this moment, Lady Sparkle." Mrs. Evergarden spoke hesitantly.
"Is he at the park?"
"No."
"The city library?"
The Matron simply shook her head.
Twilight paused for a moment. Those two locations were his usual haunting locations when not in the gym, or at home in the orphanage. It was far too late in the day for him to be at the gym. He always went promptly at seven every morning, two hours before school began.
The park was Listless's Overlook at the edge of the second plate, which gave a wonderful view of the valley below. Canterlot Library was his fallback, as the Librarians have yet to rescind their ban on his return. And he was in none of those locations.
Something was very wrong today.
"Mrs. Evergarden, where is Orion at right now?"
She had never seen the mare wince, then hang her head in defeat before.
"Come inside." Orion's caretaker finally replied, as she turned and left the door open.
Curious, and more than a little concerned, she followed her inside to one of the adjoining interview rooms down the hall. Her magic shutting the door behind them.
"Your Highness. Lady Sparkle is being very insistent on seeing you this evening." Lucky Write spoke from the door to her study.
It had been a very long day of catch-up meetings and planning for the upcoming Summer Sun Celebration in the small town of Bales on the east coast. She was hoping to use her influence to grow the tiny coastal town into a sizable port city that would be better able to handle more ships in the future; as of now, they could barely support a row boat.
Ultimately, Celestia wanted a new staging location for expeditions to the south. It would be cheaper to fund journeys to the Dark Lands and Zegypt that way.
The lone monarch of ponies felt herself wanting to wince. She supposed it was only a matter of time before Twilight found out about her friend's unauthorized departure. It could only be that for the filly that was nearly a mare was often hesitant to intrude until she gave the right to do so.
"I suppose it would take a colt to make the foal more courageous." Celestia mused, almost sarcastically.
"Very well, Mrs. Write. Send her in." It was her own fault regardless, she had avoided Twilight for the very possibility of Orion Falls coming up in conversation, not wanting to upset her protégé about his reckless departure.
"As you wish, your Highness." Lucky Write bowed low and ducked out the door.
It was not long before her student had replaced her, walking to the center of the immaculate study and bowing. A much more reserved bow than others may give her.
Celestia took a moment to truly look over her faithful student. The little filly in her mind had blossomed into a fine mare; despite the utilitarian mane and tail cut the young mare uniformly employed, she was beautiful. Though she hid much of her beauty behind a book. She held back a snort of amusement. It seemed to become standard for her to choose what amounted to librarian clothes rather than the more flamboyant style of dress of her peers.
"Twilight, I apologize for not speaking with you sooner. I suspect I know the reason for your visit." The monarch of ponies said smoothly, rising from her desk and leaving scattered files filled with red ink behind.
"Why do you let him get away with it, Princess?"
The meek question halted her in her tracks. It was a loaded inquiry that needed clarification.
"I will need you to be more specific, my student."
"Why does Orion get to do as he pleases while only getting a slap on the wrist? Princess," she gazed up at her, eyes very hard, "he continuously flaunts rules placed by you and others. He endangers himself with his own actions. He-" She stopped short, her voice increasing in pitch as she had gone on.
Taking several deep breaths, and twisting her skirt in her hands, Twilight went on.
"Orion knows that he should have asked for permission to depart on his vacation. He knows this, and yet not only did he not, but he also hid his departure for as long as ponily possible. You sent my brother after him to bring him home." The Princess was not caught off guard that her student had figured out where her brother had gone. "My question is, will all he receive is a slap on the wrist?"
Celestia blinked. That was as much astonishment as she was going to allow in front of her protégé.
Twilight Sparkle was taking a surprisingly hardline stance on Orion's infractions.
The white mare thought for a minute as she held her student's eye.
"It is true, I have been far more lackadaisical when it comes to enforcing certain rules on the colt." She mused to herself. "The incident in my school, I feel, was handled correctly, but perhaps assigning him to a mere therapist should not have been the only action I could have taken when he returned from Ponyville. But by Tree, I am not sure what I actually can do." In her pursuit of making him a more respectable member of society, the white monarch had discovered just how difficult he could be when he wanted to do something. Or not do something.
She sighed.
"Twilight, your friend, is a rather unusual case. Normal punishments do not work against him when he acts out. For whatever reason, it does not bother him in the slightest to be yelled at, deprived of certain accommodations, or set to difficult tasks." She had recalled to mind the many disciplinary reports Mrs. Evergarden had written on his behavior and reaction to corrective instruction. "His flippancy for title and position is also a sore point."
The young mare nodded sadly, she too had noticed her friend's complete lack of respect for those of higher rank.
"He…he just doesn't like bullies…."
"I am well aware, and even agree that it is terrible to take advantage of one's position over others. That does not excuse his conduct. Now he is loose in Griffonia, and I can only imagine what incident he will cause there." Celestia sighed heavily, already wondering what he could have done in the short amount of time that he had been there.
Her diplomats will likely end up working overtime in trying to appease Sigurd and his wife. No need for another Oskar Bloodbeak.
"Princess? Who is Screaming Rush?" Celestia arched an eyebrow, and Twilight blushed. "I mean, Orion has mentioned her a few times, but I don't know who she is; I have never met her."
"Screaming Rush is an old foalhood friend of Orion's when he first arrived in Mrs. Evergarden's orphanage, and you have met her." Sitting down in a comfy seat by one of the large tower windows, she gestured for her student to join her. "However, that is not her true name, which by now I am sure Orion has discovered for himself at this point."
She had never thought that Sigurd would discover where his long-lost niece had gone. The thought of telling him when she had first discovered the young griffon within her very city had occurred to her but ultimately decided to let fate decide what would happen to the chick.
In truth, she felt it better if the young hen had never rediscovered her old life. The way the country was devolving, it was only a matter of time before even worse hardships would befall the royal family and their people. Though new reports from the north were slowly changing her mind on that.
"Who is she?" Came Twilight's thinly veiled inquiry.
The reddening of the face and ears came in a variety of ways with a variety of meanings. For her student, her face burned with jealousy.
Celestia wanted to sigh once more, then laugh. Her attempts to get her protégé to look elsewhere for romance had not really gone as well as she had hoped.
Trotting out different stallions of status and power, both political and familial bloodline had been an effort in futility.
Just getting the filly to attend the balls and banquets had been like pulling cragadile teeth.
"Screaming's true name is Lady Grace Fairheart. Currently, she is the twelfth in line for the throne of Griffonia despite not having an official title. As I understand it, there is a dispute of whom should have her deceased parents' land." She paused for effect as Twilight fairly gaped at her. "Should she reattain her family's lands, her position would rise to Duchess, and she would move to fourth in line."
"She's royalty?!" The mare before her fairly shrieked.
"Yes. Though I do not believe Orion was ever informed of that fact." She giggled. "It must have come as quite a shock to him."
"It is for me…" Twilight thought for a moment. "Okay, she's a friend." The friend portion of that obvious conclusion was laced with suspicion. "I have another question." Her look pleaded to be allowed to ask.
"Go ahead, Twilight, ask."
"Why now?" She blushed. "I am sorry; what I mean is, why did he suddenly choose to go to Griffonia? To see his friend."
That was a difficult question to answer. Celestia could not reveal the fact that she knew for the past few years, Grace Fairheart had been sending increasingly pleading notices for him to visit her.
The colt had always rejected.
It wasn't as if she was monitoring Orion himself, but any missives that came in or out of Griffonia were heavily monitored by her agents in the mail offices.
The moment Grace had returned to her country of birth, the hen had gotten her own detail of spies to monitor her. Though they were often regulated to view only her letters in and out of the country.
It was a vexing thing to know how blind she truly was in the northern nation. Their ability to learn of her agents amongst their people so quickly was an annoying issue that thwarted her attempts to keep an eye on them almost the moment they stepped across the border. Not for the first time, she wished for things of the old world.
"I do not truly know." She lied, and felt no pang of guilt like she once would have centuries ago. "According to Mrs. Evergarden, they exchanged quite a few letters over the years. I suspect that in one of those, maybe their most recent exchange, they had made plans for him to simply hop on a train and head north. I imagine she is paying for his stay."
Twilight fidgeted, but remained quiet as she thought about the situation.
Celestia would have liked to have engaged her student in discussing his punishment, but two reasons stopped her.
Firstly, the filly was not far enough in her education to judicate what was a proper penalization for his flagrant disregard for laws about unattended minors.
Second, she was far too close to Orion to deem it appropriate. One day, Twilight would likely be forced to judge over a close friend, but not this soon.
"Twilight, I can honestly say, that Orion Falls shall not get the slap on the wrist a young foal might normally get. I plan-"
"Excuse me, your Highness." Came Lucky Write's intrusive voice. "I do apologize, but you requested I inform you when the ambassador of Prance would arrive."
Celestia tsked in frustration. The mare was entirely too early, having set the meeting over a late dinner meeting, but it was difficult to even for her to pin down the fool for an official meeting as it was, and she could not miss this chance. She wondered if Prance's elusive Queen had picked Mademoiselle Flight Heart specifically for her ability to avoid responsibility.
"I am sorry, my student, sadly, I must go. This is a very important meeting, one I cannot truly miss." She rose, and Twilight rose with her. "Rest assured, I will deal with Orion Falls appropriately when your brother returns with him in tow."
Her student bowed again.
"Thank you for speaking to me about this, Princess."
"Of course. Attend your studies well." Celestia said, touching her cheek tenderly and sweeping out the door, her mind already moving to the meeting ahead.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS FUCKING ROCK MADE OF?!" Orion roared as he threw the pickaxe aside he had been using for the better part of an hour. The iron ends bent at odd angles from the force of his blows against the stubborn Mineral Lord.
The rock, boulder he soon learned, was a big damn thing, stuck in the middle of the planned potato field they were intending to plant the future french fries into.
Around him were four others, all local griffons from the town of Aviary. All of them were still breathing heavily from their own attempts to remove the hell-born stone from the ground.
"Maybe…maybe…we could…just pick another location." Said Arthur, a young scrawny drake who seemed to suffer from constant bedhead, heavily wheezed. He had gone after it with a sledgehammer till the head snapped off, nearly taking his own off.
"Perhaps we should try and dig it out?" Said Tim, a giant of a griffon with the simplest of names.
"Fuck that!" Spat Arden. The portly birdcat was the fattest griffon Orion had seen to date, which seemed impossible. Maybe there was something to the whole glandular thing he had heard so many uses as an excuse back home. Also, he was the laziest. Somehow, without lifting a hammer, he had become the second most offended person over the overly large mineral. "I say we…um…" The colt had also noted the drake was not the brightest of the group.
Argust just grunted. He didn't say much, but was the oldest of everyone there. He had obviously been set to watch the four of them.
It was approaching the end of June. They had to get those vegetables planted soon if there was ever going to be anything of use coming out of them before winter hit.
Aviary was fortunate to have the luck of being close to the ocean. Warm water and air currents kept the region thawed for far longer than many other locations in Griffonia, so their growing season happened to last longer than it normally would have.
Since Screaming and Orion's arrival a little over a week ago, the town had been abuzz with activity. From what the stallion to be had gathered, the villagers, while plenty, didn't have much to do before they showed up that fateful afternoon. All waiting for the meager harvest they produced every year.
Now, in an outskirt little collection of farm huts, he and the four griffons with him had been tasked with clearing the fields for the planting of various crops.
Well, he had tasked himself.
Unbeknownst to the inhabitants, it was not Lady Fairheart that was calling the shots, but the black pony himself.
At night, when all had bunked down for the evening, Orion and Screaming would get together in the attic of her temporary home in the village. His own sleeping quarters were within the fifteen feet margin for his teleportation. A lucky break otherwise, he would have had to cast Feather Fall and make a running jump across the spaces of buildings.
He had caught hell with her briefly when he had first popped into her bedroom that first night, she had been very much naked. The hen was also initially pissed that he had never once bounced them back to the castle during their trip out on the town. Then he explained his limitations, which had shut her up. Still, the first day after, he sported a black eye that took a healing spell nearly all day to make go away. That was embarrassing.
“Though, wow, what a body.”
Most nights, Eberhard was in attendance. Offering advice, and making sure the pony was being thorough in explaining what he wanted to be done. After the second night, he had a complete list made in duplicate for the two, going over the final points before they too, went to sleep.
While he labored in the fields, the Steward, along with a pair of specialists in siege warfare that had come with them, directed the construction of a wall around the village. With heavy fortifications being built around the three forges specifically.
The project was easily noticed, and a lot of questions arose that Orion had not liked, but there was no way of getting around it.
Lady Fairheart had taken to organizing the forges themselves. Once decrepit hulks of timber and stone now looked something akin to the metal shops on the third plate. Orion had to sneak out at night and go over every inch of the smithies without light, so as not to alert any nosy featherheads as to what was really going on.
In a week's time, they would be ready to attempt the first forging of steel ingots. Something only he and Eberhard actually knew of. Grace would be in the dark till the day of. He wanted to be sure it would work before getting her hopes up.
Choosing to be in the fields had not been his first choice. But it had been his decision.
Everything that was actually important had to be done by those two, and he needed to be far the hell away while they were about it. So helping clear fields and explaining how best to work the land had been his job.
Now he stood there, glaring hatefully at the stubborn Rock of Ages.
They had tried everything. Sledgehammers, pickaxes, even dropping another rock on top of it. Though that had been Arden's contribution, and it was more of a toss that winded the pigeon.
"Arden's right. Fuck that. I want this rock to die!" He intoned with absolute malice. “Die. Die! DIE!”
"Then what the Tartarus do you suggest?" Retorted Arthur. "Ask it to kill itself for you?"
"No." Orion smiled. "I'm gonna blow it the fuck up."
"We don't have explosive crystals, Orion," Tim said soothingly. He seemed to be the nicest griffon the colt had ever met. He was implying the crystals that were sometimes bought from Equestria for mining projects. Those were not cheap and never brought anywhere near the backwater town.
"We don't need no fucking stones of boom." His smile turned into a malicious grin. "Why don't y'all get to cover." He suggested politely.
Orion had been gone an awfully long time. Grace had grown increasingly worried about him as the days wore on. His plans were going remarkably well, even if some of the ideas confused the locals and herself.
The idea of rerouting some of the river water into the town to act as an irrigation system, complete with shutoff canals and shale slabs preventing early erosion, had been clever.
Some of those water streams had even been directed toward the forges for production. Rather than have them close by, they were now directly there to be used in cooling molds and the like off quickly.
But other than directing what they should do, Orion had stayed as far away from town as possible. Grace understood his reasoning, and Eberhard had said it was a prudent move. But she was still worried.
Diamond Dogs had been spotted in the area since their arrival. Greedy and savage, they were known to incorporate slaves in their tunnels. Pony slaves specifically.
What if they capture him?
With that thought burning in her mind, she made her way to the current collection of farm huts outside the town just a little bit quicker than she initially intended. The one he was hard at work at. Or so she hoped. She had a basket of bread and cheese with her to give to him, and the likely hungry work crew that was with him.
A resounding boom cracked through the air like a thunderclap, the shockwave of air pressure staggering her, nearly toppling her over as several bushes and trees whipped violently toward the sea.
"What in all that flies was that?!" Her mind screamed as she steadied herself and took off at a dead run, leaving the dropped basket behind.
Over the next hill, she beheld a crater the size of three of her uncle's royal carriages sitting in the middle of what had been, by all reports, a decent field.
"Hurrrkkk ugh…" Coughed a familiar voice. "I think I sent it a little too hard there…"
"No shit! What gave you that idea, hornhead!?" Shouted another.
"Can it fuckbuck! I killed the Boulder, which is more than what your fat ass has done all goddamn day!"
"Gentledrakes, please?" Came in a soft but heavy tone. "Let us check ourselves, make sure-"
Grace rounded a low hill and found Orion and his team hunched down. His horn was glowing that strange black and dark gold flame.
Above them, was a pile of debris simply hovering in the air.
"Just what in the Four Winds is going on here?!" She tried to keep her voice level; she really did. But the black colt's broad grin told her he was really eating it up. Whatever it was that he had done.
"Uhhhhh…." His apparent enjoyment fled away the moment she came around the low hillside.
"Apologies, my Lady." Spoke up a fat drake; the tufts of his feathers were unusually oily and seemed to weigh heavily down the sides of his head. "Mr. Falls here grew tired of our slow progress in preparing the field for planting. So he chose to employ more extreme measures.”
Orion gaped at him.
"The hell?" The pony cocked his head. "Where did the "M'lady" persona come from? What's with the greasy…airship salesman shtick?"
"Mr. Falls, we are in the presence of nobility. We can not just-"
"Dude, no. Don't play that card with me. You were cussing up a fucking storm-"
"Will you shut the fuck-"
"Why don't you jump on a frozen-"
"ENOUGH!"
It took a moment for her even to realize that the shout of rage had come from herself. She did know her anger over the useless bickering had increased exponentially in the very short time she was there.
His callous disregard for his own safety, or the safety of those around him, coupled with her worry over him, only fueled Grace’s emotions to new heights.
Her outrage had the intended effect of silencing the assembled workers.
"Orion." She inhaled deeply, intending to calm herself before continuing on. It didn't work. "Just what in the fuck, are you doing?!" She hissed.
The work crew, save for the focus of her vexation, gaped at her. Orion Falls dug a finger in his ear rather calmly. The little appendage came out with a clod of dirt clinging to it.
"How the hell did that get on there?" He stared at it, bewildered.
"Orion!"
He flicked the dirt away.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a wad." He waved his hands in the air to placate her. "You see, we came across this rock while preppin' the East Fields here…"
"Couldn't you have just…picked another field?!"
Orion's explanation of the destruction of the landscape had not mollified her. In fact, she was seething.
"What? And let the Rock win? I think not." He sniffed. "That stone insulted my mother and pissed on my father. I had to seek my vengeance. Besides, they agreed with me that it had to die."
He gestured toward the griffons who had taken more than a few steps away, griffons who were doing everything in their power to ignore what was going on before them.
"Do not take my silence for agreement, Mr. Falls." The heavy voice of one of the drakes said in a dry tone.
"Dude…the hell Argust you fuckin' talk?!" Orion turned and gaped at the stout griffon.
Grace physically grabbed her friend and turned him from their unwanted audience. It was with extreme effort on her part, that the claw tips didn't just rip into his workgriffon's clothing.
His eyes were very wide.
"Orion." She was too annoyed to note the deadness in her voice, why was he suddenly acting like such a fool? "You chose to somehow detonate a boulder rather than simply select another field." Her grip tightened, and he winced. "Are you an idiot?"
His attitude had been cute. Had they remained in Griffonstone, it likely would have remained enduring in that setting. However, her patience with his willful foolishness was at an end.
Grace had no clue how such a brilliant pony could act so recklessly, at the same time conducting himself in a manner befitting higher society. In the remote location, which was all his own plan, he was putting his life, and those with him, in danger again and again.
With the irrigation system, he had chosen to help dig the canal out himself with another work crew. Somehow, they had all nearly died when the river broke through the thin earthen bulwark to wash over them.
He had laughed, laughed! And walked off, saying it was a good lesson on pressure and force. She had no idea what he had meant.
During their trip to Aviary, Orion had also taken it upon himself to go hunting with the forward scouts. That had resulted in the lot of them being chased by a Roc.
How he had found a Roc, no one could figure out, nor was the black pony willing to devulge the knowledge.
Had it not been for the sheer number of spears, swords, and bows presented in a combined front, the giant flying beast would have torn them to shreds.
Now this fiasco.
Orion's horn glowed, and her grip was forced to release itself. Because he had pried the claws from his shoulders by sheer force of magic. She was unimpressed.
"I am not an idiot." He growled.
"Then why do you keep putting yourself in situations like this?!" She responded, heatedly.
"Since when have I ever been in a situation of blowing up rocks?"
"Orion, do not be deliberately obtuse." She sighed. "Every time you go out, you run the risk of getting seriously injured."
Her friend sighed heavily.
"I'll…explain…later. Right now, I gotta check this field and get it ready for planting." He gestured over his shoulder at the smoking ruins of once good cropland.
"Um, Mr. Falls." Came the voice of the large griffon whose name still escaped her. "I don't think this is going to work."
Orion scrambled up the hill, leaving Grace to watch him go despondently.
"What do ya mean it ain't…holy shit. That's a big hole." He said breathlessly once he got to the top. “You know what? Fuck the hole, will plant over there.” He pointed toward the west end of the farm.
Grace Fairheart wiped a tear from her eye and headed back to the village. She didn't feel much like being around people anymore.
Orion watched his friend retreat back toward Aviary through his enchantment, ignoring Arden's attempt to scream in his face.
"Maybe I'm taking the act too far?"
Another measure of his plan, though he had been the only one to really know about it, was to act as dumb as possible. To get any witnesses that watched him in action to declare him an utter moron. It was a delicate balance, he had to be just smart enough to do something, while also reaping the consequences of his actions. The river crashing in on them had been a very close run thing. He had nearly been swept off the cliff and into the sea.
The thought hadn't occurred to him until the day after their arrival. He had tripped on an upturned root that he hadn't been paying attention to and fell face-first into a mud puddle.
At first, he berated himself for once more ignoring his radar enchantment, then he saw all the griffons laughing, and the odd idea had struck him.
What if he played the role of the village idiot? No one suspects a fool to have a hand in anything sophisticated.
Thus began his, up till now, brief history as a complete jackass.
But now, watching Grace walk away with her head hung low, he regretted keeping her out of the loop, even if it meant her reactions were more genuine because of it.
"I think it's time I explain what I am up to…tonight." He thought as he turned his attention to Arden, and picked the birdcat up by his shirt to send him tumbling down the hill. "Yeah, best not to risk hurting her anymore."
"What do you mean she's not coming?" Orion spat angrily.
"I do apologize, Mr. Falls. However, Lady Fairheart was quite stern in her refusal to attend tonight's meeting." Eberhard said smoothly.
The pair were stuck sitting on the floor because of the too-low ceiling of the attic.
"It's because I blew up the East Field today, isn't it?"
"I am afraid so. I do hear it was quite the spectacular event." Grace's Steward continued to surprise him.
"Yeah, it was. Honestly, I didn't even mean to do that much, but I may have screwed with the law of thermodynamics a bit too hard there." He muttered.
"What is that, might I ask?"
"Basically, I supercooled the rock, then I introduced a tremendous amount of heat into its core. The resulting sudden heat expansion caused the boulder to explode violently." He chuckled. "Especially once I compressed a lot of air inside the little hole I bore into it."
"That sounds…dangerous," Eberhard said with a fixed frown.
"Yeah, yeah, it is."
"Pardon, but why do you keep putting yourself at risk? I find myself agreeing with her Ladyship in this regard." The stuffy servant said.
"Because if folks are only seeing an idiot, then no one will realize that apparent idiot is the reason for all the sudden improvements. I am already well known to the populace; best their memories of me are being a jackass." The steward's eyes widened, then he smiled thoughtfully as Orion continued. "I want to keep my name away from what is going to happen here as much as possible. It would be moronic if folks blabbed about a very focus-driven pony being amongst the cadre of griffons."
"So you wish to avoid suspicion should this venture succeed. And I suppose you told none of us any of this so that we could have real reactions to your acts of questionable intelligence."
"Exactly." Orion nodded enthusiastically. "However, I think I played the game a little too well." He hung his head, though if he were to admit it, destroying the boulder was only partly an act. That fucking thing annoyed the hell out of him.
"I shall inform her, Ladyship of what you were trying to accomplish." He paused. "I do have one question. Was the Roc a part of that plan as well?"
He groaned, loudly.
"I'm never gonna live that shit down, am I?!"
"He digs good!" Came a male, stilted and gruff, muffled voice from the crater in a ruined field.
"No! He only boom. But boom good." Said a tall black silhouette standing at the edge. "Break all rock?" The tone of voice indicated she was female, however, she sounded much the same as her companion.
The pair had grown curious as to what the pony and griffons had been up to and chose to follow the group from one patchy ground to another from their original post in the black trees.
The bizarre nature in which all four removed a layer of grasses and stones to expose the earth beneath had them shaking their heads in bewilderment and amusement.
It was hilarious to the pair because either one of them could have done the job by themselves in half the time.
However, what truly caught them by surprise was what the black pony did today.
After a great amount of shouting with one another, the pony decided to send all of them behind a small hill, staying alone above the rock with his horn glowing in an odd black-gold pattern resembling flames.
He did something to the boulder, and then in a burst of speed neither had ever seen before, he dove behind the same hill the others were huddling themselves behind.
The resounding boom was still echoing in their ears even after night had fallen.
Now, Hubert crawled with ease out of the massive hole left behind by the pony.
"Hubert, think this good!" He declared while gesturing back at the crater. "With pony, we make better tunnels."
Molly snorted. It could be possible, since their arrival in the northern reaches of the bird peoples, it had been tough going.
Much of their pack was what was left of the civil war that had ripped apart Bark, a Diamond Dog warren of tunnels far to the south. Unfortunately, they had lost that fight and had run all the way here to avoid death during the chaos.
Those they had brought with them were either too young or too old. There was only a core group that was strong enough to make new tunnels and homes for their castaway peoples.
They had been in Griffonia for years now, but the work was still slow. Part of the issue was amongst those that had made the journey, only a few had the knowledge to plan out the network of paths and rooms they could use. Also, there were none amongst them that knew what to look for in rock and stone that would indicate gems might be nearby.
Molly shook her head. "No. All pony do is kill us with big boom." She growled. "Should tell Balo anyway. Might have plan?"
Balo was the only Dog amongst them that knew anything about, well, anything involving gem searches, really. Despite his more blunt face appearance and large stature compared to others, he was smart.
Not as smart as their leader, but he was another Dog all on his own. Still, they survived because of Barney’s leadership.
Not bad for a runt.
"Balo think much, not dig more." Grunted her suddenly sour companion. Hubert didn't think much of their work crew boss, but he also wasn't the brightest member of their Pack.
It was, unfortunately, an increasing sentiment amongst those reaching adulthood.
"Come, good not let birdies and pone see us." She gestured back toward the bushes. There was a tunnel just beyond it, cleverly hidden by a rock only one of them could find. "Balo need know. Make plan."
That only got a rather vicious growl from the shadow-sheltered Dog.
"Best watch Hubert. He dumb. Too dumb." Molly mentally reminded herself as she followed him down into the tunnel.
"Well?" Shining asked as he uncovered his eyes after Spitfire had come in like a falling rock. He was certain that her "coming in hot" landings were mere attempts to spite him.
And lately, they were working.
"Nothing and nothing…no. No, that's not true. There are areas in the forest where there seems to have been a battle waged there. But no sign of who might have won." The second lieutenant dusted her greaves off with a thoughtful frown, then shook her head and fixed him with a glare. "But I've seen nothing of our target."
Shining Armor sighed heavily.
So far, they had journeyed through three towns, two of which were just getting started in the ruins of old.
Those new villages were filled with an unusual amount of pep and energy. The griffons smiling and laughing. While the Rovers spread out to ask for information on Orion Falls, and Spitfire did whatever she was doing when not under thumb, he spoke with their leaders.
Three years ago, when he had been in the middle of a search and rescue mission. The first lieutenant, and the force he had been assigned to, had stumbled across a new Griffonian village getting started under the King's initiative.
The people had not been happy. Many going through the motions, and not much at that.
Now, these meager years later, he found himself once again in new towns, and the scenario is now entirely different.
Griffon foals, or fledglings as they call them, were running about, shouting with glee. Even the ones who had to help their parents seemed somehow happier.
The adults, while very businesslike in his interactions with them, had purposeful intent, unlike what he had seen back then.
The villages were different as well.
Before, trees were left alone unless to build furniture and homes inside the great boughs. Now, whole clearings had been made, with crops slowly beginning to sprout from the planted ground.
Griffons had never done that before.
Another new addition was the granaries being built onto the great trunks of the forest, as well as strange holes dug at the roots.
It did not take him long to learn why. While the particular path the knowledge had taken couldn't be pinned down, it was clear the "black pony" so many had mentioned could only be Orion. That had been a surprise. For the life of him, Shining was not sure why the colt was doing it. Or what it was he was attempting to accomplish. Though he had his theory.
Kindness. For all of the pony's aggression and aloof nature, it was his surprising compassion for others that seemed to speak out in his actions.
It was evident in their first true meeting that day at the orphanage, despite Shining Armor’s misgivings at first. It was evident in the way he attempted to save a colt so many years ago, and then bar the path to those who would ruin what he had done.
He had not known about that till Twilight had mentioned it, and his search had gotten the full account from none other than Princess Celestia herself when he had made his inquiries after he had met with Orion.
He was just a good pony if a little more crass than any he had met before. That was it. And in Griffonia, Orion Falls seemed Tartarus bent on doing all he could to save a dying culture.
If he would have been asked a year ago what one pony could do, Shining would have said not much.
But by the Tree, he would have been so wrong.
The sour part of all this was, nopony had ever seen the colt. Oh, there were rumors, of course. But no solid evidence or trail he and his band of soldiers could follow.
And that was the reason for Spitfire's increased agitation over the past week. They both knew they had been sent on a merry little chase of shadows and rumor.
He had even known the King had been lying to him as well. However, he suspected there was a reason he and his small force were directed this way.
The battle sites they had found, which were becoming fresher and fresher with every sighting, had an almost zigzag but directed course deeper west. A few locations even had washed-out funeral pyres. The flags of Griffonia Armed Forces were planted solidly about them.
It was clear they were chasing an army, and that, Shining believed, was the point of the misdirection. King Sigurd Bloodbeak had sent him chasing after his son. In every village they had passed, word of the Prince's passing was on every tongue.
The griffon noble was in hot pursuit of a shockingly well-organized bandit group that had begun somewhere up north. Near the Icewall region of the nation.
That chase had led west and south since then, and by all accounts, was not too far ahead.
It was clear to the first lieutenant that Sigurd wanted him to lend assistance to his son.
His first thought, once they had confirmation of the truth, was to turn around and march right back to Griffonstone and demand their compliance. One Spitfire was pushing hard for. The Rovers seemed to think it all a grand joke and didn't care either way what their leaders decided.
What stopped him from agreeing, was the knowledge that their demands would get them nowhere. They couldn't force the old bird to speak the truth, and they would likely get more of the same from the townsgriffons of the city. Calling in the reserve would also embarrass the Princess as well, not to mention only adding six more to their number. Despite his earlier threat, Griffiona had done remarkably in keeping Equestrian activity minimal within their borders.
But Shining saw an opportunity.
If they were to find, and assist the King's heir in his chosen task, the griffon ruler would have little choice but to give them a boon. In truth, it was their only real chance of finding the light-blasted colt considering anypony in real authority seemed bent against them.
His second in command disagreed entirely, and had the mare been able to get the others to side with her, would have likely taken command from him.
"And just how do you expect the King to react when you demand from him Orion's real location, Spitfire?" He had found himself challenging her after they left the second town. It had been when she had been forcing her hand to take over.
"Because the full might of Equestria stands behind us!" She declared confidentially, her delicate-looking hands perched on her hips.
"Over one colt?" Earnest Hearts had asked skeptically. "I'm sorry, LT, but that's crazy."
"I agree. Tell me something, second lieutenant." Shining said with as much patience as he could. "Why did the Princess only send us, instead of a more substantial force for this op?
"That's easy, she did not want our activities to be seen as such a big deal. Just a casual search." The arrogant pegasus said quickly.
"That is true, and it's part of the reason. But look between the lines." He mentally thanked Cadance for all the late-night lessons on looking for what is not obvious. "Princess Celestia can not actually impose a force larger than us. It's in the treaties, and no, this is not a true emergency, so we cannot call up additional forces to add us."
"Those treaties limit the number to ten. Why only us four?" Came Pestle's response.
The only stallion in the group allowed himself a small smile.
"Because she wants this to be seen as a simple wayward colt rescue attempt. If we were to have marched into the country with a full complement of soldiers in standard," he meant the usual wear for Equestrian military members in the field, "odds are certain the griffons will balk. And with them, other nations will likely raise cries of alarm too."
Spitfire no longer looked so confident. "Okay, but why? Why should we go through all this?"
"This…was likely never covered in any classes you might have taken growing up. Buck me, I didn't even learn of it until…well, never mind that. Let's just say that to the rest of the world, Equestria was not often the paragon of peace and harmony it is today. In order to safeguard ourselves, our ancestors had to do some not-so-nice things." He sighed and kicked a stone away with a hoof. "Citizens of those countries might have forgotten, but not the rulers. The Princess doesn't want a major political headache that would happen should we push too far."
"So she sent us, an inexperienced team, into Griffonia in order to capture one colt." Storming Wing said. She was an odd one, unlike her more brash counterpart, the pegasus had been oddly subdued for one of her race. Had been the entire trip.
"Exactly. We are no threat, nothing of consequence. As far as Sigurd is concerned, we could just be here to evaluate their economic situation." Not that he believed that for a second.
"Shit." Swore Hearts. "So we got to find this little groundhog on our own? Man, this field is too big to be checking every hole."
"I agree with that sentiment as well. Thus, I have a solution." That caught all three mare's attention.
"Really? What?" Pestle was eager to get moving.
"First, have any of you noticed that we seem to be in pursuit of a small force?"
"I have. Don't tell me our path through this bucking forest is because of them?" Spitfire's question was not spoken in as heated a voice as before.
"Yes. I kept wondering if Sigurd was misdirecting us, and why that might be. That's when I started hearing rumors of Prince Gerhard Bloodbeak passing through the area from the north. Apparently, he has been in a chase with a force of surprisingly crafty bandits. They've been in these woods for some time now." He had to restrain himself, Shining was getting all too eager.
"Other than knowing where to avoid, why are we concerned? Let the griffons deal with their own problems." His second had not quite given up the battle.
"Well, the way I figure it, is if we render assistance to this Prince, his father will have no choice but to give us what we want." He smiled smugly.
"You mean to earn a boon King Bloodbeak cannot refuse…" Storming said breathlessly.
"Exactly. Better, all we have to do is render aid, not actually help with the capture of bandit leaders. That means scouting, healing, and bolstering the lines, so they do not break in an attack." There was also the chance that he could simply trap the griffon Prince's enemies in a dome, but these mares would likely object to him putting himself in harm's way.
Despite his position as overall commander, they had taken it upon themselves to keep him under watch at all times. Which was good, but the motivations were all wrong, in Shining's opinion. It wasn't for command security, but because he was a stallion.
"So that's your plan…" Spitfire mused. "And as you pointed out, our options are limited in what we can and cannot do." She sighed. "Fine. I formally apologize and will await punishment for my insubordination at the nearest Equestrian Force's outpost."
He waved her off.
"That won't be necessary. While you were very close to outright mutiny, I understand your frustration. In truth, this plan of mine didn't come to fruition until after we left Split Tree." It was the last visited village they had just passed through. "Though I had pieces of it already worked through. You didn't know, and I was not as forthcoming as I should be with you all in the field. For that, I apologize."
Of course, that was not the end of it. The second lieutenant, upset that she had been wrong, had taken a passive-aggressive approach to the things she did, such as now when she landed with the force of a boulder. Though he found it strange, she had not mentioned his courtship with Cadance. Otherwise, the mares would have been talking his ear off. His sister’s former babysitter often stayed well out of the limelight. For most civilians, she was a fanciful rumor.
For such a light race of pony, she certainly could strike with the best of them. Still, Spitfire remained focused on only signs of Orion, even knowing that was futile, yet thanks to intensive training, she had also noted the movements of the forces ahead.
"How recent?" He asked.
"Likely only a few days out, from what I can tell." She replied sourly.
"Good. Okay. OKAY!" He said with enthusiasm. That caused the others to take a step back in alarm. "Alright, you bored as shit, Dogs." A derogatory term for the three-pony team of soldiers. "From here on out, we are on high alert. This close to the last skirmish might mean trailing bandits. Let's not get caught with our pants down."
Something he would admit only to himself, and perhaps his father on nights when they had gotten a little too deep into the liquor cabinet, was that he relished the opportunity to hit something. And from the accounting tales of those brigand forces hurting and even killing the towns and villages they passed through, he was eager to dole out a very specific kind of punishment and remind the world how dangerous a pony can be when riled.
Author's Note
Guess who's back, back again!
Hey Everyone! It has been a long vacation for me, namely the getting to know my new job as manager of the shop I work at. It was mostly that reason that had me constantly delaying writing and posting chapters. I took the past month and a half off just to sort through the literal mountain of paperwork (I am completely exaggerating) I now have to do to keep a business running and running smoothly.
But I am getting into a routine, and my new position allows me to have a little writing time at work. Thus, I begin again.
For those who didn't skip over this little Author's Note, I thank you. I also wish to thank the many likes and comments I got. Over the next couple of days, I will be commenting on the commentators who are commenting on my story with a comment of my own.
I know, brilliant.
To the new followers, welcome. I am humbled that you are liking what you're reading.
I won't prattle on forever. Just, thanks for hanging in there for me. Now, back to our regularly scheduled Orion-inspired shenanigans.
Leave a comment, and share it with a friend. And you all have a fantastic day.
Thanks for reading. Peace!
Morning Breath
"YOU IDIOTS!!!" A miniature dog roared, the echoes of that shout reverberating into one of the few natural caverns found when they had first arrived. In his right hand was the staff of his Clan, barely more than a branch piece of wood whistling in the air as he swung it violently through the air. His anger was clear as he snarled at those responsible for the disaster they had brought onto them.
Because that’s all, Barney could see this as.
When Aspen had come to him, it was already far too late to do anything. So the display of righteous indignation was pointless from the start, but he felt he had to vent in some way, and thoughts of using his father's staff on those responsible were all that kept him from actually doing it.
Laying at his paws was a pony. A young pony. Barely more than fourteen or fifteen springs unless he was seriously wrong in his judgment. Though, he was a tall thing, splayed out like he was. Even the leader of this band of dejected mutts could tell that his height did not match his age.
The black unicorn colt was currently breathing regularly in an unconscious state, which was likely the only good thing. It was a small chance, but a chance nevertheless.
One of their few nullstone rings they still possessed had been placed on his horn. A relic from their more aggressive days, now long since past.
He didn't care about the ring. His only thought was that the pony had been brought in relatively unharmed. However, that had been the only brilliant thing Rover and Hubert had done when they decided to fall back on their race's old habits. Habits the leader had believed long beaten out of his packmates.
By the time Barney had learned of what had happened, the Equestrian had been in their tunnels for two days, hidden away in a recently blocked-off tunnel.
Two days!
That bore into the earth those morons had chosen was showing signs of imminent collapse, and the decision had been made to close it off permanently rather than risk the few little ones they had in tragedy because of a puphood game.
A convenient stash spot for the short term, but what would have happened should there have been a cave-in?
"I told you, louts, we were not doing this shit anymore! I told you to avoid the griffons! Now it turns out you fucked both rules like a bitch in heat!" He screamed. The Dog Leader was furious. "Where da fuck did you even find a pony in griffon lands?!"
Balo had tried, several times, to speak up. But his shorter-than-the-average leader had bowled over any attempt for him to speak with the furious tirade echoing in the ears of those in attendance at the emergency meeting. Now, the hulking dog kept his mouth shut for fear he would just be yelled at more.
"Well? SPEAK!"
"H-H-Hubert and Rover!" Was all he could belt out in the silence as he cringed before his furious ruler. Many of the surviving Pack were there in what had become the audience chamber. None seemed even to dare breathe.
It was normal to see their leader, their Den Boss, yell at one of them. But this situation was far from that, and the shouting was far more intense.
They continued to flatten themselves against the wall.
"Hubert and Rover, what?" Barney spoke with deceptive quiet. "Took it upon themselves to kidnap a pony? Didn't inform me they had been…SCOUTING THE DAMN TOWN AGAINST MY EXPLICIT ORDERS!!! WHAT PART OF "NO" DO YOU ALL NOT UNDERSTAND!?"
This roar of outrage reverberated into the space, deafening them.
This wasn't good. A good leader doesn't scream and rage at their subordinates. They didn't lose their composure when things went awry. That was what his father taught him, what he had been when he had led their pack.
Sadly, he was not his father. A Dog who could command a room with his presence alone. Castro Barker was a canine who knew exactly what to do even if he first didn't. He always found a way or knew who to ask.
No, Barney barely came up to the chest of most of his kin. The white with brown splotches of colored runt had somehow become the unlikely authority for the reduced gaggle of cast-off Diamond Dogs of the Barker civil war.
At least he had gotten his father's long fur. Winters were cold in Griffonia.
"Hubert…and…M-Molly found da pone helping the Griffies digging in der farms." He watched his direct subordinate lick his chops worriedly. "Say saw da pone shatter boulder like nothing. No know till last night he here!"
Barney Barker shook his head. Balo had missed a step. The step was how they had managed to nab the pony in the first place from a town full of guards, no less.
"Balo, how did they even get da fuckin' pony down here?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his best to reign in his temper.
This fiasco could ruin everything.
"Dey…dey grabbed him from a brown shed. Rover and Hubert. He had been do da poo poo." The old, slate-gray dog's voice gained confidence when his boss had not yelled further. "Knocked him good. Bring here. To bottom tunnels."
The short dog snorted. They had yanked the black whorse from the shitter. That was kind of funny, and yet, he felt a little sorry for the poor bastard. No one deserved to be taken like that. To be that vulnerable.
He shot a glance at the prone pone and noted the rough leather collar on his neck.
"Idiots thought they could condition him to the collar before I learned of it." He groaned and spied Aspen watching from a wall. Watching the pony. The large white fluffy canine was shifting her glance from him to the gift she had brought.
She had been the one to find and alert him of what was going on. However, like everything else today, there was a complication. For one thing, she had become possessive of their unwanted slave far too quickly. The shaggy-furred female had carried the pony's unconscious form all the way to his own little carved-out rooms snug to her chest.
She was petting him as he and his sister could at first, only gawk at the sudden appearance of the Equestrian.
It had taken nearly an hour for him and Tilly to get the bitch to let him go.
The second issue was her attempting to groom him when she thought no one was looking. Very strange behavior, but the dog hadn't been right in the head since she was a pup.
He turned to Rover and Hubert. Both dogs took a step back for every one of his toward them right up till they planted themselves against the stony wall.
"So, boys." He said with fake cheerfulness. "I got to ask, what was da plan here? Train him to the collar? Have him dig tunnels for us?"
"Yep." The change in Barney's tone had fooled Rover, whose shoulders slumped to relax, but not Hubert, who had shrunk in fear completely. The young and dumb pup, whose only use was posting as a watch outside, babbled on like nothing was wrong. "He pop big rock like it nuthin'. He pop new holes for us! He pone, easy break."
The leader of the Diamond Dogs in the Barker Den ground his teeth.
"And it did not strike you as odd that a lone pony is out here? In the company of a bunch of ARMED SOLDIERS!?" The stick in his hand swung with a whistle to wallop Rover on the head. "You did not think it odd at all? Da fuckin' unicorn had arrived with da rich bitch from the capital!" He jabbed a finger toward Hubert. "You pointed that fact out! What made you think this was a good idea? After I told you to stay the Tartarus away from them!"
Neither said a word as they both huddled together on the cavern floor. The smell of piss began to filter into the dank air, along with the sound of splashing water.
Barney sighed and rubbed his head with an unoccupied hand. Looking at the black pony again. His eyes drifted to his sister.
She was biting her thumb claw, a clear sign of her concern. Normally she would already have an idea of what to do in this situation as she had their father's brilliance. But when he asked, in hushed tones before the clan had congregated into this cavern, her only words were, "we are so fucked, brother."
That was not encouraging. Still, he needed to make a decision.
"The ball has already been tossed. Nothing to do but wait and hope that whatever catches it is not our end." Hope that the prisoner at his paws was not as important as he feared.
For now, it was a waiting game. Maybe once the pone woke up, he could make something of this cock up.
"By now, they likely know he's gone. It's been a couple of days, at least. Until I know more, put him in a cell." They did not have a cell, but he trusted Balo to at least remember how to make one.
He eyed Aspen, who had come to her paws now that he had made a choice on what to initially do.
"Nuh-uh. You stay away from him. He does not need you hovering over him." The shaggy dog pouted and crossed her considerable arms.
It was going to be trouble keeping the wily mutt from the pony. Her ability at digging was unparalleled, only matched by her single-mindedness. Best to make sure she did not try anything.
"I want two guards watching him at all times. When he wakes up, one of you will get your tail over to me immediately." Turning away toward his rooms, he muttered. "Just maybe, just maybe, I can get us out of dis fuckin' mess."
Gilda once again resisted the urge to tell Lady Fairheart to sit and eat. The griffon royal had slept little, and eaten even less for the past two and a half days, and the effects were beginning to show.
Heavy bags now pulled down on bloodshot green eyes. Her normal swept-back headcrest looked disheveled, individual feathers jutting in directions never meant for feathers to go.
Even her Ladyship's attire had not been spared. This was the second day in a row the guardsgriffon had seen that gray blouse. New stains on the sleeves and neckline indicated her Lady's negligence in her attire.
It angered her to see her Liege Lady like this. It angered her more to know who was responsible.
Orion Falls, even the thought of his name made her tongue want to curl in on itself, had been missing for nearly two days. Why? No one knew.
Saturday morning had come, and he was discovered missing, vanished into the night like some nightmare. Not one of the thirty soldiers assigned to this detail had found so much as a hoofprint in any direction. Not a snapped branch, not even a lock of mane.
In truth, that sat just fine with her. Gilda held little love for the colt before the fiasco at Duchess Rosebreast manor. Respect? Yes, he had fire, courage, and an amazing drive to do what he believed was right. But finding out that he had publicly humiliated her Lady by holding an interest in some tart for the evening had driven whatever goodwill he had earned with the former bandit far away.
If Orion was truly gone, then perhaps her Grace Fairheart could finally pull herself together and begin focusing on the future. Maybe set her sights on a more ideal mate while she was at it.
Sadly, even to the soldier, it was clear he didn't just leave. For one, all his things were still here save for the bedclothes he might have worn the evening before his disappearance. Including the mysterious book he had always carried with him. That was now closely guarded by Eberhard himself.
She could not help but wonder what could be so important in those pages that the Steward practically snapped the arm of a guard sent to investigate his room. The mystery surrounding the bundle of notes was just another annoyance, though.
No one had told Gilda why they were even out here, to a location already visited by Grace Fairheart months ago. Nor did they explain why the pony was somehow calling the shots and trying very hard not to look like it. Had she not known how smart he was, she would have very easily missed the strange development of how things were being approached.
The old forges toward the rear end of town had been refurbished, but only after he had wandered by and stared at them for a while. That had not been the only location in the coastal town to receive his attention. To what purpose all this was being done, the guardgriffon knew not.
She had an idea, more of a hunch, really, but the Steward of House Fairheart had come down upon her like a hammer when she had tried to investigate.
Something dangerous was happening, and Orion Falls was somehow at the center and trying very hard to only look like he was caught in the current.
A quick knock at the door startled both hens from their thoughts, and Lady Grace alone from wearing a hole into the floor.
"Y-yes?" Gilda winced at her Lady's rough voice, another sign of her distress.
Grendal Plumage cracked the door just long enough to squeeze herself in and slammed it in the face of a pair of concerned guards. Her hands stayed on the door. She shot a short but disapproving glance her way.
When the duty roster called for a change of guard, questions had been asked in the quiet moments. Of Gilda, and her responses were less to the Burgermeister's liking.
Many nobles rarely understood how observant soldiers could be, treating them more like furniture than thinking living beings. But small-town authorities knew better, and when Gilda professed her ignorance along with many others, Grendel Plumage was displeased. This was why the soldiers were attending to their own laundry and food preparation.
"My Lady, they are concerned about you." She said quietly, turning her attention onto the Lady of Seacrest.
The leader of Aviary wasn't just implying the armed forces that had come with them, but the citizens of the village as well. They, too, had stopped and asked Gilda Broadwing herself if there was anything they could do to help alleviate the situation. All she could say was to keep looking for his tracks or some indication of where he had suddenly gone.
"I…I am sorry." Came Lady Fairheart's quiet reply.
"No, no. It's not your fault. That rapscallion of a pony is to blame. Running off like he has!" It was odd to watch the overly developed griffon hen act motherly in any capacity, even more bizarre still that she was attempting it with a royal.
"N-no! Orion would not do that-"
"I'm sure you think so, my Lady. But the fact remains he is gone, and you are still here."
"Without his things?!"
"Who knows what ponies get up to? Especially those unicorns. All that witchcraft and wizardry cannot be good for decent griffons."
This wasn't the first time Grendal had gone on this particular tirade, room's personal opinion. She was very likely right, save for one issue.
That pony would never have willingly left that book behind. She was certain that everything going on in this sleepy little village of no more than four hundred citizens and surrounding farmlands was tied to whatever was in those notes. The way he guarded it and ensured no one saw what was in it was all the proof needed. There was no possible reason that she could personally see as to why he would just up and vanish without it. But that left an uncomfortable line of thought. If he did not leave on his own, then why was he now missing?
Shaking her head at the growing uncertainties she had within, she tuned back into the conversation and wished she had paid more attention.
"Orion wouldn't just leave like that! Not after all he is trying to do!" Gilda's ears flattened at the sudden shout of outrage.
"Wait, what?"
All Sergeant Broadwing had seen from him was his talent to act like a court fool since they got here. Blowing boulders up, getting chased by a Roc, somehow finding a bottle of brandy, and getting completely done in not two nights prior. It was almost to the point she believed his success amongst the nobility had been a fluke. He had done literally everything in his abilities to look like your typical pony tourist. Complete with a touch of arrogance. Now, As her Ladyship covered her beak with her hands, the guard was beginning to suspect she may finally get a peek under the curtain of who he was.
"What did you say, my Lady?" Grendel asked curiously.
Grace Fairheart's eyes bulged in panic as she took a step back.
Just as Gilda was about to ask the question herself once more, Eberhard burst into the room.
"My Lady! I believe I know where our wayward entrepreneur has gone! He-" The sound of air being caught in his throat made her wince. That had brought up memories she would rather keep stuffed away. Memories of death rattles in the dead of night, of hot blood washing over her claws in the days before her service to crown and country.
The Burgermeister’s eyes widened at first. Then her face contorted in anger and distrust as she turned her hardening gaze turned back upon Lady Fairheart. Gilda shook herself and eased forward, subtly blocking off her approach to her Liege.
"What is all this?" Her quiet tone did nothing to soften the harsh glare of her eyes. "Why is this pony so important? Is he a rich noble?! What does he mean by entrepreneur?!"
"Those are very good questions." A subtle glance at her Ladyship showed the true Lady of Seacrest's eyes widened in panic. Just what had these three been up to?
"I humbly apologize, my Lady. I had believed you were alone." Eberhard's head hung solemnly.
For minutes, no one said a word. The steward’s head still hung in shame, while his hands drifted slowly behind him. Grendal had placed her full attention on her Ladyship, fists on hips with a none-too-patient frown on her face. The sole noble of the room, in the entire village, simply closed her eyes and nodded slowly.
Taking a moment, Grace Fairheart seemed to compose herself. Brushing her feathers back to a mostly uniform direction and straightening her dress, her eyes darted furiously once she had opened them, however. A sign that the twelfth in line was in serious thought.
After a moment, she hesitantly spoke.
"What…I am about to tell you, Burgermeister, must never leave this room. The security of our nation itself is at risk, not to mention the freedom of one who is risking it all to help us." She paused before muttering, "Even if he may not truly realize what he is getting into." She coughed and straightened herself to her full height. "I must, no, I will have your oath on it, Grendal Plumage. Otherwise…"
Gilda couldn't stop the shock that washed over her, just barely managing to keep a smooth face. Despite the years of training, of violence she had committed for herself and her nation, the realization that Grace Fairheart just threatened death of all things left the hen shaken to her core. No. Not just threatened. Her eyes said it was a certainty that if the village leader did not agree, then she would not be leaving her chambers alive.
"Where did THAT come from?!"
"M-m-my Lady?!" Came Grendel's strangled squawk. The Burgermeister was not a stupid griffon and had easily picked up the dangerous air that had filled the room so suddenly. Dropping her anger and disappointment altogether in favor of a fearful look, she took a hesitant step back, only to bump into something that wasn’t there a moment ago.
Eberhard had moved, when the guardgriffon had no clue, but he now stood behind the village head. A dagger was held delicately in his left hand. The situation was getting more intense by the second, and the lone soldier had no idea what to do.
Her duty was to the people of the nation, yet nobility often took precedence in many matters. Far too many, and she was torn as to where her loyalties should lie.
"I am truly sorry, Burgermeister. However, I will not give up on this, as much as it would pain me to do so." Never before had she seen such fierce determination in her eyes. It was overshadowed by worry and fear, but it was still there. For the first time since Gilda had been placed in her service, her Ladyship bore the bearing of her title and position, and the sudden change in demeanor more than a little terrified her.
"I…" Grendal took a moment to swallow. "I understand.” She said slowly. “By the beat of my Wings, and the color of my soul. I, Grendal Plumage, do hereby swear that no word of what is spoken here today will ever pass my beak to another. Nor shall my hands give evidence of these events. Or shall the Winds forever be against me and my kin."
A powerful oath. One that made Lady Grace pause a moment before nodding solemnly.
"May that oath bind you, for it to binds me." She breathed a shaky sigh. "Thank you, Burgermeister."
Gilda couldn't stop herself.
"How does a fucking colt know how to make steel!?"
That was just one of many questions rattling around in her head since Lady Fairheart had finished telling them the truth. That it wasn't her Ladyship that had wanted to try some half-hearted attempt to jump-start industry in a backwater town, confirmation that the pony had been in control since the beginning was only the tip of the mountain. That his fool act had been just that, an act to misdirect the attentions of those caught in the flow.
Orion Falls. Her opinion of the pony had been a turbulent flight of ups and downs over the course of his nearly three-week stay in their nation. She might be getting sick just from the whiplash alone.
"More importantly, why would he tell that kind of secret?" Said Grendel, her astonishment at least equaled the guardgriffon's own, if not surpassing it entirely.
"The how I believe I can answer, Sergeant Broadwing.” The steward replied, for once not admonishing her on decorum before nobility. “From what I have gathered, Orion has somehow worked out the puzzling issue all on his own. As you are likely not aware of specific laws that are in place in Equestria, let us just say that it would be near impossible for anyone to have taught him. To do so without him being enrolled in the nation’s watch program would be a death sentence in some cases." Eberhard had spoken from his new position, a chair set near the door, one ear cocked toward the entrance.
He was likely listening for anyone attempting to eavesdrop.
"As to why I believe I can answer that myself." Lady Fairheart spoke calmly. She had taken a seat on the edge of her bed once she had finished, looking far more composed than that morning. "On Orion's journey to Griffonstone, he fed and advised an entire passenger train. The advice he had given is a similar set of instructions that your villagers are currently implementing. Although, with far more specific details that will greatly improve the odds of success here."
"So…why the idiot act?" Gilda bluntly replied.
"Sergeant Broadwing!" The Steward hissed, finally rushing to his paws.
"No, Eberhard. It is a valid question, even if it is crass." The lone soldier kept her nerve despite the gaze of this new, almost alien, version of her Liege Lady. "He is doing this on purpose, though even I was not made aware at first. Orion worries about his name being attached to the events that will hopefully happen here. For two reasons. One," she raised a slim finger, "he is at least aware of the trouble he may get into once he returns to Equestria should they ever learn of his involvement. I confess I am not certain if he knows the entirety of the ramifications of his actions here. For him, it is simply a desire to help." Her gaze hardened when Gilda's mouth opened to respond. She quickly shut her beak.
Nodding, her Ladyship continued.
"Secondly, he wanted me to be the source of that knowledge. I suppose one reason is feeding off the other in this case." She smiled. "He wants to elevate my status among my peers."
"In doing so, he is helping you wrestle full control of these lands from Duchess Rosebreast!" Exclaimed Grendal in surprise.
"Indeed. He has met the Duchess and has found her wanting." She giggled. "In truth, I believe only Eberhard amongst us was one of a few that knew what was truly going on. Isn't that right you, old bird?"
"I apologize for the deception, my Lady. But the King forbade me to speak on it till the time was right." He said ashamedly. "In truth, his Majesty wished to have sent a thousand soldiers. However, Queen Fairheart thought that was an ill-advised idea, though she had her own misgivings about the mission here entirely. Her majesty instead advised that we should draw no attention to activities in the east, so a small force was dispatched. And done so quietly."
"I thought as much."
Gilda shook her head. "I said some awful things to him." She had. First, the fight, then pitting the entire garrison in the castle against him by telling of the events she learned of at Rosebreast's manor. On top of all that, she had openly mocked him in front of others in the village.
"You did, and I believe he would want you to continue that. At least in public. No one must know his role here. The King himself commands it." Lady Fairheart paused. "Gilda? I understand why you are angry at him. Under normal circumstances, you would likely be valid in your anger if not your actions. However, it was I who built that nest. A nest of lies designed to blind me to the truth I have come to accept." A tear leaked from her eye. "Orion Falls cares deeply for me, but he does not love…me. He has never loved me. Not because he thinks little of me or my feelings but because he is looking ahead to some future I likely cannot be a part of. Or at least, I have come to think that is the reason. It is almost like a feeling that is telling me that it is so."
The named hen hung her head in shame. Of course, there was more to the story than what Stoic had told her. Instead of marching to his doorstep, she should have stayed out of it entirely.
As she lamented over her failures as a guard, there was one thing that stuck out to her. Her Lady's attitude. The sudden shift in direction from the earlier dour mood was confusing, to say the least.
"I think I understand, my Lady. But if I may ask?" She got a nod of approval. "Why are you suddenly so…put together?"
"Hah. I suppose that is a change and much to my shame. I should have been more in control of myself than I have been. He may not love me, but I still care deeply for him, thus my fear. As to the change in mood, well, suffice to say, I have been given hope." She turned to Eberhard. "By you. Tell me, have you found out where he has gone?"
"Ah, yes, my Lady. More to the point, it's where he has been taken. Orion is currently being held by a Diamond Dog pack just north of the village, on the outskirts of the furthest farm. I discovered a half-hidden hole behind densely packed bushes. They must have taken him when he went to the latrine."
That got gasps and curses. The curses came from Grendel.
"I should never have let those fucking mutts anywhere near my village!" She nearly shouted.
"Do you know if he is alive?" Lady Fairheart was poised and controlled, staying focused on the important information, yet still, her hands gripped her skirt tightly.
"I am fairly certain. Diamond Dogs do not kill their victims." The steward said as he flexed his fingers like he was twirling a knife between them. Gilda shuddered. The old griffon's skill with a blade was well known amongst those she once flew with.
"Yes…they are likely attempting to put him to work mining for them." She snorted. "I wonder how long it will be before he drives them mad." She tapped her beak. "I trust you have scouted their location?"
"Yes, my Lady. As of right now, they have one large main entrance that is guarded. And two hidden entrances to the north with no posting. I believe it is an attempt to not draw attention to those areas as they are possibly emergency exits. Had I not been flying, I may not have seen them from the ground. They are very well hidden."
"I see." Taking a deep breath, with eyes closed, Lady Grace Fairheart breathed. "We have no time to lose. This is what we shall do."
Something was tugging at his face. Long, slow pulls that dragged along one side, ending with a flick at his ears.
It was slimy.
"Ugh, did one of the villagers have a dog I didn't see? How the fuck did it get in my room?" Or up the rickety ladder that led to the attic he had been provided, for that matter.
He went to shove the mutt away, hoping the dismissal would be enough of a hint that he wanted to sleep more. His head was pounding like he had been whacked with something.
His arm responded but did not move. Somewhere in his mind, an alarm was registered. But his current state of consciousness wasn't much bothered between the headache and the lack of sleep he had been getting the past few nights. Just annoyed.
To Orion's sleep-addled brain, the dog was simply a big friendly beast that just happened to be lying on his arm. He tried to roll over and didn't move.
Now that was cause for worry. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with utter blackness. Was it still night?
"I swear to Christ, if someone's dog woke me up at zero dark retarded I am going to lose it."
Attempting to roll over produced the same results as when his eyes were shut. However, he did confirm one thing, whatever was on him was bigger than some run-of-the-mill farm dog.
Craning his neck around, he came face to face with a hot, heavy breath of whatever beast was on top of him. He felt as if his cerebral cortex was being misted with saliva.
"Okay, what the fuck?" He asked as he tried to move his arms again, this time noting that they were bound, not being restrained by furry goodness. Orion's eyes widened, and at the same moment, he was struck deaf by the bellow of his fuzzy cacoon.
"YOU WAKE!" Came the entirely too loud voice of the humidifier.
"GAH! GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" The pony screamed in panic.
"ASPEN! Told leave pone alone! Get down!" Came a low baritone of a voice from behind the now-named Aspen, the Humidifier.
"But my pup!" Hollered the creature above him.
"No pup. You get!" The sound of something heavy wacking into fur rapped dully in the whatever room they happened to be in.
Aspen, of the Terrible Morning Breath, whimpered, and Orion finally felt the mass of fur and slobber leave him, though he remained restrained. The sound of paws hitting rock and the scratch of claws marked their journey away from him, but the echoes were confusing. He noted with alarm that all the beads, including enchantments, in his mane were missing. Which meant he was effectively blind.
"These fucks jacked my shit! Wait. Who the fuck are these fucks?!"
"The hell is going on?!" He whispered into the still dark.
"She right. You awake. Barko. Watch pone. I get Barney. Aspen no back here."
Barko did not live up to his name. He just made a grunt, and yet another pair of paws with claws scurried away into the dark.
"What in the fuck is going on?!" He asked again, getting no answer other than another grunt from the unseen guard.
"So he's finally awake, eh?" Barney muttered as he stood up from his seat. He had been working with his sister to find another route for fresh water. A mistake from one of the pups trying to learn how to tunnel had caved in most of the underground river they had been using for a freshwater supply a week ago.
The concern was now that it was all effectively trapped, they didn't want to make a new hole and cause flooding. That would be as bad as all the tunnels giving out at once or going outside to drink from the various rivered surrounding them, exposed to the harsh territory they were forced to live in.
There had been no sign that the griffons had noticed their pet was missing, yet. Or at least had reasoned out where he might have gone. One positive in a series of disasters starting with his taking over after his father had been killed.
"Well, let's get to him." At this point, the diminutive leader was just rolling with the earth on what to do. In his mind, it was best to get an idea from the pony on just how important the bastard was. Standing, he followed Balo into the warren of tunnels and dead ends.
"I believe you are correct, my Lady," Eberhard said in response to his Liege.
"Good. I hope Uncle listens to the messenger and does not come charging in like a hero out of legend." She absently said, her mind being drawn to the plans in front of her.
They had both reasoned that a head-on assault might only get Orion hurt or, worse, killed. Instead, they plan to ambush some of the Diamond Dogs' own and use them as a hostage to free the foalnapped pony.
The idea was simple, though it had a lot of holes for things to go wrong. In essence, the plan revolved around driving a herd of gordat into the area closest to the hidden tunnels.
From what Grendal Plumage said, they had been aware that this group of Diamond Dogs was not in the best shape. They had arrived just shy of ten years ago, looking bedraggled and unfed. Something had happened deep to the south that had driven these mutts north, and in the years since their arrival, not much had improved for them.
However, what bothered Grace was the Burgermeister's tale of an event some three years prior.
According to her, a group of Dogs had come to the village edge, pleading for help. The griffons had not listened, and drove the pleading creatures back to their tunnels, suspecting a trap rather than any real need for assistance.
Diamond Dogs were well known for unsavory practices in slavery, after all.
Then, one of the other elders on the village council had stated that to him, it had not seemed like they were attempting any kind of deception. The group looked worn out, and the eyes had been red-rimmed with what seemed like tears.
Her first instinct at hearing who had taken Orion had been a rather violent one that startled her at first. But, she managed to restrain herself from doing anything that might be unsightly. Instead, she listened to her steward as he sketched out a plan based on Grendel's information on their opponents.
A starving creature often makes mistakes, and his rough plan sought to take advantage of that. A select group of soldiers assigned to her would be waiting behind clouds positioned above. That was a tricky gamble as, unlike pegasus, griffons had very little control over the movement of the smooth water vapor. The hope was the Dogs would send out a hunting party to snatch at as many of the poor beasts as possible, and hopefully, her troops would be in a position to nab some of them.
She had sent Hauptgefreiter Gornald Razortip to her uncle. Appraising him of the situation as a precaution. If this plan fails, then she might need assistance from a more substantial guard force moving forward. Gilda was on standby should that become a reality, as she was one of the fastest flyers they had amongst them.
"How much longer?" She found herself asking no one in particular.
"Roughly two or three more hours, my Lady," Eberhard said, a frown creasing his features as he focused on the field before them.
“I take it that it is because we have to use wild bait as opposed to a few farms in the area donating their stock for this gambit?” She asked, merely looking for something to distract from her growing anxiety.
“Yes. Diamond Dogs have less than grand vision, my Lady. However, they do have an incredible sense of smell and hearing. I fear they will smell the domesticated gordat for what they are and thus avoid the trap.” He tapped his beak. “Still, this Barney is not foolish. From what Grendal says, he is rather well-spoken. If he is truly paying attention, this may not work at all.”
Should that be the case, they were prepared to send the Sergeant out immediately. Gilda would have to beat a furious path back to Griffonstone, and Eberhard would approach the main entrance and hope for negotiations. It was not an ideal plan. Less so should their attempt at gaining hostages fail, and the leader know it for what it was, they would not be starting on the right note to begin with.
The only reason they chose to do it this way was that the underground dwelling pack would not be that receptive, to begin with. An issue that might be laid at Grendal and her council’s paws, given the previously revealed history between the village and the Dogs.
“Then there is nothing left, but to wait.” She lamented, biting a claw in worry.
“My Lady,” the steward’s soft leathery hand rested gently on her shoulder. A familiar gesture he did not often employ in so open a setting. “Have faith in us. We will get the colt out.” He gave a tight smile and a dry chuckle. “Or he will somehow find a basilisk somewhere in the tunnels and free himself before we have to do a thing.”
It had been a running joke that the pony would likely find all manner of rare creatures since his accidental discovery of the Roc nest on the East Road. No one had seen one of their kind in over a century, and within a day of their journey beginning, Orion not only found one but led it on a merry chase as the rest of the escorting force threw together a hasty plan of defense in motion. You couldn’t kill the giant birds of prey. Just make the meal not worth the effort.
The basilisk theory was merely the latest and, to Eberhard, the most logical since the creatures seemed to enjoy deep cave systems, which the Dogs had no doubt built their warrens with.
“That is exactly what I’m afraid of.” She sighed heavily. In Grace’s opinion, Orion was far too capable of finding trouble despite his claims of active avoidance.
"If you don't stop poking me with that fuckin' stick, I'm gonna bite you." Barney blinked in surprise at the sudden sharpness in the black colt's tone. It was odd and not at all what he was used to, coming from a pony that was. It had also been the first thing their unwanted guest had said since he arrived in the makeshift cell that they had hastily made up for him, leaving the leader of Clan Barker wondering if the pony was just flat-out terrified.
It was obvious that was not the case.
“So ya can speak, and here I was thinkin’ you was a typical pony pussy.” He laughed, attempting to keep in control of the interview. That threat was a little too violent for his liking, and completely out of character for a typical pony.
“Only one in here that’s a pussy is you, dumbass.” The black pone chuckled in the darkness. The diamond dog leader had not wanted too much light in the small chamber, so only a few clearstones stuffed with glowbugs were brought in, and they were left toward the entrance of the room.
“And what do ya mean by that!?” Well aware that he was a hypocrite, nasty names directed at himself would still piss him off like no other. He jabbed with the symbol of his clan once again and had to scramble out of the way as the pony had somehow gotten his bound legs under himself and leaped for his face, teeth gleaming from the light of bugs, snapping just before his nose.
“Those teeth are sharp!? What da fuck!?” Barney had an uncomfortable view far too close for comfort before he managed to squirm out of the way as Balo and Barko jumped in to restrain the thrashing colt. However, they neglected to bind his mouth.
“My point exactly!” The black pony crowed with mirth. “Even trapped like I am, I’m still too much for your ass to handle. The best thing you can do is let my ass go and point me toward town.” He laughed. “Otherwise, it won’t be just me you have to worry about, biting off the faces of your unsuspecting guards.”
Only when the Tartarus-born terror was securely anchored to the cavern wall, with stone molded around his legs, did the diamond dog leader feel comfortable approaching again. His free hand, with its worn and calloused pads, had gripped his chest where his heart was running at breakneck speed. All bravado and anger had vanished.
“Da fuck are ya?” He said breathlessly.
“The fuck are you? A Neigh Yorker? Why the fuck do you sound like a mobster?” The pony quickly shot back, seemingly unbothered by his predicament. Barney wasn’t sure what bothered him more, the pony’s similar choice in language or how comfortable he seemed to be despite his position.
The leader of Clan Barker took a moment to settle himself and breathed deeply. Something he had seen his father do in situations like this. Well, not quite like this. As his thoughts slowed from the panicked alertness, his mind worked over what the pony had just said. Not the whole Neigh Yorker thing. In his life, he had heard his family’s tongue often had much in common with the pony city. No, it was the implication that worse might happen than just bites to the face.
The whorse was not as stupid as he hoped and far more aggressive than what was typical behavior for one of his kind. He knew that the Diamond Dogs had made a mistake, and it was only a matter of time before the griffons remembered that his clan had moved in just north of them.
“Shit. And those idiots really fuckin’ thought that they could train him to a collar? That pone would have eaten them alive.”
But how to proceed? He couldn't just carry on as he had originally planned. The pony was just too aware of the situation. There was absolutely no way they were going to be able to keep him regardless, and he didn’t want him.
For one, they had no real way of using him. Digging through rock is difficult enough as it was. As young as the pony was, the odds he had the ability to detect gems or the needed sources of water and food was slim. Rover’s belief that the pony could explode big holes for them to use was an idiotic one at best. That idea led to massive cave-ins and the deaths of all who had followed them.
The second and far worse problem was the fact that the lone pony in griffon lands had not been alone. While Barney had no idea what the noble featherhead’s rank was back in the griffon town, he did know that little detail didn’t matter. The black whorse was very likely a guest of some sort of hers, and she would certainly come looking eventually. That also meant that they couldn’t just smuggle him south, either. What would they do if they came for him and he wasn’t here? Or catch them out in the open with him?
For that matter, what was going to happen once they did figure it out? He doubted the birds would just laugh this off as a just a simple mistake.
“Earth to fucko? Ya in there, pipsqueak?”
The colt’s questions mercifully pulled him from his spiraling thoughts, even if they were hurtful, making his blood boil.
Turning his angry attention back to the pone, his ears wiggled a bit in irritation at something. A sound, annoying and increasing in pitch, was assaulting his sensitive ears. The colt’s horn was glowing in a bizarre mix of dark orange or gold and something else that he really couldn’t tell what it was in the darkness, and the ringing seemed to be emanating from the nullstone ring wrapped around his horn. As the strange colored pattern increased in brightness and violent movement, so did the noise. The ring had begun to rattle, but the black pony seemed unaware of what he was doing. He was glaring hotly at him.
“Ya not gunna be able to beat a nullring, pup. So knock it off.” Balo and Barko were also having trouble with the weird hum, Barko going so far as to rub at his ears, wincing in pain when he did so. “I said knock it off!” He shouted at the pony, who seemed to have stopped paying attention to anyone, his eyes focused on his own face, no his horn.
“Huh, now that’s interesting….” He mused out loud.
Barney placed the gnarled wooden rod of his office into the pony’s neck. “I said, KNOCK IT OFF!” The noise was getting dangerously close to hurting the trio of Diamond Dogs, save for the source of the irritation.
“Wha? Oh.…” The magic winked out, and blessedly, the sound with it.
“Whatever da fuck that was, don’t do it again.” He pressed the staff harder against the colt’s throat. “You understand me?”
“Perfectly.” The black pony struggled to speak with the edge of the rod pressed harder than Barney had intended.
At that point, he no longer cared about what he was. The Equestrian's seeming unconcern about his predicament. His attitude had done enough to drive all thoughts of bizarre heritage and strange behavior away. He was pissed.
"Alright, ya little shit. Since it's clear ya don't know what da situation is, I'ma spell it out for ya." Barney lowered himself to get in real close to their prisoner. To his shame, it wasn't that far of a journey. "Ya trapped, below the dirt. Way below the dirt. Ya got no friends, and nobody knows where ya are. Are you getting the picture?"
The expected fear did not appear on the colt's face. A flat analytical stare met his own heated glare, but at least he had his attention.
"Well, at least he knows his predicament. Seriously, what is wrong with this pony? He should be pissin' his pants about now."
Nodding, more for his audience than any real confidence in the situation, he leaned back and continued.
"Now, I think a little introduction is in order. So we can be all civil like, you know, the way ponies like it done." Pressing the head of the staff to his chest, he spoke. "I am Barney Barker." The black pone snorted with a look of amusement that he squashed with a firm glare, and the staff swung menacingly. Once he was confident that there would be no more interruptions, he carried on. "I am also the leader of this pack, the Barker Pack. Can the pony in the room be so kind as to give me his name?"
Seeming to struggle with himself, he eventually answered.
"Orion. Orion Falls." Was that a giggle he heard?
"And thus, our mystery guest has a name!" Getting the pony to comply for the first time since stepping into the makeshift cell, he allowed a smile of confidence to touch his face. "I thank you for being so polite. Now. Do you know why ya are here?"
Orion simply shook his head no.
"Ah, I see. Well, I'll do da polite thing and inform you." He paused, admitting his negligence at watching over his own people rankled the mutt something fierce. But he also knew there wasn't much in the way of options otherwise. Lying would only snare you in even deeper lies, like the roots of an old oak tree catching an unwary digger. "I regret that some of my fellow Dogs thought it an opportunity to snag you in the night. That's how ya came to be done here."
"Meaning you had no idea that I was even kidnapped until I was down here."
"Well, shit. He's not just foolhardy. He's actually smart. That's not good."
Before he could respond, the pony scoffed.
"And you're their leader? Jesus. Really scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't we?" He paused and cocked his head, his glance taking in the other two Dogs in the room. "Though considering their lack of grammar usage, I guess you are likely the smartest of the bunch. So you got that going for you."
Barney gaped at him. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried. In a mere minute, the pony had insulted the whole clan as if he wasn't wrapped up tighter than a stone in roots.
"You…you little shit..."
"Hey, look at that! You can use the proper verbiage to indicate a person. Very good!"
The staff's head connected with the pony's jaw before the Diamond Dog even realized what had happened. Orion's head rocked to the side violently, blood flying from his lips.
Finding himself breathing heavily, Barney took a couple of steps back.
Instead of a cry of pain, the black colt slowly turned his eyes back on him. If looks could kill, he was sure he would have been a pile of ash. Those sharp teeth were bared in a snarl.
Thankfully, the pony said nothing.
Barney's mind swirled with questions again, though these revolved around his own inability to keep his cool, then the origins of the Equestrian on the stone floor.
After a stretch of silence, in which both Orion's heated glare and his own emotions cooled, the Diamond Dogs leader raised his head.
"I'm done playin' nice. Right now, you're underground in my home. No one thought it smart to inform me that your donkey ass was down here till Aspen practically dropped you in my lap. Ah!" He shouted when the pony tried to open his mouth to talk. "I talk, you listen."
He waited till Orion complied and carried on.
"As of right now, no one knows where you are. Has no clue what happened. However, I have to shoulder that burden because the dumbasses working under me have made a mistake. You!" He pointed at his prisoner. "Are going to fuckin' help. Understand?"
Author's Note
Greetings!
See?! SEE!? I did not forget! We are back on the wagon train, folks. However, this one did come a bit later than I wanted. My editor works nights now, and they had pulled a double Saturday trying to pull in as much money as possible.
First, thank you for the warm regards for the story's return. I greatly appreciate it. Secondly, I hope you all are having a fantastic weekend thus far.
Without too much rambling, here is the chapter. Enjoy!
Thanks for Reading.
Peace!
Errors and Triage
"Twilight? Are you listening to me?"
Twilight Sparkle jerked in surprise. Her mind had wandered again, something that was happening a bit too often as of late.
Glancing about reminded her that she was still at Donut Joe's Donut Emporium. It was the latest name the stallion had installed to drum up more business. Judging by the fact that they were the only ones in the establishment, the purple filly was leaning toward the name change being another failure.
The myriad of subdued greens and tans actually promoted a pleasant atmosphere. And the gold glass casing where a wide variety of donut goods were on display reminded ponies that they were in the wealthier districts of Canterlot, thus, nothing to raise their noses at.
Her eyes swept back to who had spoken to her. Lemon Hearts. She was annoyed, and Twilight could only grimace apologetically.
She had drifted back to the book again, a habit she had recently redeveloped during the early summer months, so much so that it was distracting her from other studies.
She sighed inwardly. This was supposed to be her effort in reinforcing the friendships she had tentatively formed over the past few years. The four ponies sitting around her at Donut Joe's had invited her out for a study session, and she had readily accepted.
Or so they had originally claimed.
While they did touch on some topics in class, they had more or less focused on gossip and rumors. Well, all except Moondancer. Who had instead, like herself, buried herself into one of the biology books she had brought with her.
To Twilight, the soft yellow mare in an overly large pristine blue sweater and pink skirt was a bit intimidating if she was honest with herself.
Whenever she caught her looking, the gaze sent a shiver down her back. Like she was being sized up. It was really bizarre.
Thinking in terms like that simply reminded her of what Orion had done a little over a year ago. That had been the look of a beast ready to tear her apart. But where he was frightening, almost predatory, Moondancer's was more analytical.
She shuddered, then shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Lemon, I got lost in my own head for a moment. What was it you said?"
"I said, where is that shadow of yours?" The filly asked again, visibly peeved at being unintentionally ignored. The almost blinding yellow pony was a good pony, but would often get annoyed if she felt she had been pushed to the background in some topic. Technically, the dark sky blue maned unicorn was not actually invited to this "study session". She was currently apprenticing under Donut Joe himself since she had discovered her talent for baking a couple of years prior.
While the pale yellow earth pony stallion was only the latest in a long line of apprenticeships, he was likely the most lenient of her previous employers. Twilight was convinced the filly planned to apprentice under every baker in the city.
The decision to hold their get-together in her latest place of employment found her at their table more than behind the counter. But Joe seemed not to care too much. It was a rather slow Sunday afternoon, and he had turned a blind eye to the filly's less-than-attentive job performance.
Twilight frowned at her term "shadow". And inwardly groaned that he had been brought up. Again.
Since his disappearance to Griffonia a month ago, she had worked hard to forget about the colt for the time being. Every time she thought of him, her heart would ache, and she was tired of it. So she began burying herself in her studies again.
Namely, Starswirl's book of prophecies. That is where her mind had drifted before the yellow baker’s apprentice pulled her back.
"Lemon, I haven't seen Orion all summer, and he is not my shadow." It was about all the rebuff she was going to give the prodding pony. He had been the subject of much of her inquiries in the past few months, and if she was honest with herself, Twilight was tired of it. "If you are so curious, why not go to his orphanage and ask him where he has been? I am not his keeper!"
She winced. While it may not have been her intent, her frustration with the questioning and the colt's own tendency to annoy her whenever possible had given the end of her sentence more bite than she had wanted.
"Trouble in paradise?" That mocking question got a flat stare from the purple filly. A very flat stare.
"Give it up, Lemon. Can you not see it's a sore point for her." Minuette's half-defensive, half-teasing effort to divert her friend only frustrated Twilight further.
Why could they not leave it alone?
"Fillies. Stop." Twinkleshine interrupted the snickering between the two. "That's not nice, and we didn't invite Twilight out to tease her. Whatever may be going on between the two is none of our business, and you." She pointed a slim cream-colored finger at Lemon Hearts. "You are supposed to be working. I thought that if we came here on your work day, we could give you some company while on shift. Instead, you've left poor Joe to do much of the work. Now quit being a bully and get back to it."
There was no heat in the pink-maned filly's voice. There never was. Out of the three of them, she was likely the most level-headed of them all. Calm, rarely driven to open anger, the unicorn was often the voice of reason in their little group.
She reminded Twilight of her mother. Always sure, even if she did not know how to deal with a problem, she could often pick apart the issue till it was solved.
"...sorry, Twinkle." She raised an eyebrow. "And sorry, Twilight. I just…I don't mean to annoy you, but I haven't seen tail nor mane of that colt in the past month and a half." She tapped the table in a rhythmic, nervous pattern. "I…I'm worried you two have broken up…"
The purple filly blinked in surprise. So did Minuette and Twinkleshine. Even Moondancer's eyes had risen above the rim of the book she was invested in.
"Broken…up?" She said softly, not believing the words that had come from her own mouth despite the fact that she was only repeating Lemon Hearts's words.
"Uh…yeah. Wait. Were you two seriously not together?"
"Lemon." Came Twinkleshine's stern rebuke.
"Together?!" Twilight's incredulity was loud and clear. Minuette cocked her head in surprise.
"You guys weren't?" She asked curiously. "It was a popular belief amongst the school that there was something more going on between you two than just friends."
Twilight Sparkle could only mentally reel.
"How?" She mumbled. "No… No! I mean, sorry." She fumbled.
The purple, not quite a mare filly often wondered what the point was of having such a large lexicon of words when she almost always got tongue-tied in these embarrassing situations.
"It's okay, Twilight." Twinkleshine's hand reached across the table to grip her own. "You know you don't have to say anything."
"I…" Twilight swallowed sourly, and looked around the shop to mentally reset herself. "I'm sorry." She inwardly cringed. She was apologizing far too much lately. "Orion and I have never been a…thing. Just friends. He has never wanted anything more than that." There was a touch of bitterness in her voice despite her acceptance of the issue, but she believed she had hidden that well.
Over the years since his declaration on the steps of the castle, she had grown to accept his inclinations, if not understand them. The purple filly had also come to accept that his treatment of her was merely friendship.
It hurt, but as he would have said, it was what it was.
"Ouch." Muttered Lemon said in a commiserated tone. "Took a chance and got rejected, huh? Sorry Twilight. I really didn't mean to bring up such a painful topic."
"It's okay." At the doubtful look of the aproned filly, she repeated it. "It is, okay. Though I hadn't actually taken any chance at it. Orion…Orion doesn't want a relationship. With anypony."
That revelation got a round of gasps from the group. Moondancer had gone back to her book.
"What the hay? He doesn't want a herd?!"
"Every time I hear something new about him, it goes against accepted norms."
"Anypony? Or is it more like anycreature? Maybe he just has a preference for some other species. Oh! Maybe he's a stallion chaser!"
"I think. That Twilight is indicating that Orion would rather not be with anycreature or pony."
All eyes turned on Moondancer, who had placed her book down for the first time since they came together that day. An imperious look that matched her tone perfectly silenced the group.
"What? Is it so unimaginable that he has no desire at this point in time for a herd or special somepony of any kind?"
"Well, no…" began Twinkleshine. "But it is weird. All I ever hear from colts in class is how excited they are to find somepony to be with."
"True. But let us not forget, as you have said before, Twinkleshine, Orion is anything but normal. Every time anypony hears of something new about him, it's always a shock." The only other bookish pony gave a slightly condescending look at the mothering filly.
Rather than let this get any more awkward, Twilight chimed in.
"It's true. Orion has been everything but normal. Since the day I escorted him around the school, he has been nothing like anypony would expect."
"Okay, let's not keep beating the dead timberwolf here," Lemon said, rubbing her temples. "If he's not looking for love, what is he looking for?"
"I don't know. He won't actually tell me anything. When I try to learn more about him, he will throw up walls that keep me out." She brushed a few strands of mane away, remembering those math equations that ran her into circles for days. "He is friendly enough with me, but he is quick to keep me at arm's length as well."
She tactfully kept to herself the fact that she already knew one of his secrets, the only one she could learn. And that had been by accident.
"Well, his academic scores are no fluke. So perhaps he wants to focus on research." Twilight's head shot up, eyes wide at Moondancer. "I am volunteering in Student Records, Twilight. His file has come across my station more than once."
While she was at a loss for words, Minuette jumped in with a smirk.
"Look at you! Snooping into students' records like it's nothing. And here I thought you were nothing but straight-laced!"
"I do not snoop, Minuette. Part of my duties is to update records. I've done yours too, and might I mention, you really should seek a tutor. Your math scores are beginning to slip." The blue filly blushed and turned away. "As to my idea behind him becoming a researcher, Lemon, do you know that spell you use to bake? The one that requires no fire? That was first pioneered by Orion for his final in his magical studies last year."
Lemon Hearts's eyes grew wide. To hear her tell it, the spell had been a goddessend. Allowing her to bake whenever she wanted without the need for an oven present.
The spell was a heavily modified levitation matrix designed with something completely new. Something nopony had ever heard of before. A vibration matrix is formulated to heat the air inside the levitation field without the need for a fire cantrip.
True, an oven often gave the baked goods spirit, but when somepony was traveling, it was an easy-to-use spell that eliminated the need for a campfire.
However, she had not learned it in class, but from her mother, who was currently in the guard.
The Cast Oven spell, as many in the armed forces had come to call it, had been taught to Equestria's armed forces first in order to test the viability of the skill. It has been hailed as one of the most innovative camping spells to have been developed in the last fifty years.
Lemon's mother had taught her the formula as a way of helping her daughter improve her talent.
"No way…" The bright yellow filly breathed.
"Moondancer, I don't think you should be telling us his personal information like that. Student records are private, after all." Twilight said, uncomfortable with going too deep into her friend's private affairs.
"I am not saying anything that isn't well known. His name is attached to the spell." Moondancers stern countenance rebuffed her mild effort to get off the subject. "I know we all consider Orion to be an arrogant fool that is far too violent. However, without going into detail, I can say he is at the top of his class. His arrogance is well placed, if unnecessary." The looks she received pulled a rare smile from her. "I know. I was shocked too. The first time I saw his scores made me question whether or not teachers were giving him a handicap."
"Oh…wait a minute," Twinkleshine said, a considering look on her face. "He's been friends with Twilight for years. Could it just be her influence?" She shot an inquiring look at the personal student of the Princess.
"No," Twilight spoke first. "I did try to help him at first, especially when his limitations had first been discovered. I gave him a lot of low-level spells to help make up for some of his weakness." She shook her head. "However, he overcame that all on his own. He wouldn't tell me how."
"He still has the range issue," Minuette spoke up. "Everypony knows that."
It was well known that there was something wrong with his ability to project spells. A few students in his class spoke of the instructor using a high-yield analysis spell to see what the issue was. It was described: "It's as if the spell was never there at all, and just phased out".
"I think we should stop." Twinkleshine finally said after a few minutes of silence. "We are here to study, not gossip about a colt, no matter how weird he is."
That got a few laughs from Lemon and Minuette. But Twilight could only frown, troubled by the subject, and the fact that Orion had been pulled into conversation like that.
For the rest of the time at Donut Joe's, the fillies managed to get some progress, but in the end, it was agreed the mood just wasn't there.
As they were packing up their things, Lemon had left to head home thirty minutes prior; Moondancer approached Twilight as she closed the flap on her satchel and snapped it closed.
"Twilight. It might be wise to warn Orion about a sudden increase in offers."
She blinked in surprise.
"Offers?" She wondered if she meant herding offers. "Why would he be concerned with that? Nopony had approached him in a couple of years about that."
"Why?" She asked hesitantly, looping the strap of the bag over her shoulder.
"Because, for the longest time, fillies avoided him because it was believed that you and he were an item. I hadn't realized it at the time, but we just spoke in front of two of the biggest gossips in school." She jerked her head toward Minuette, who had just shot out the door.
"Oh no…"
"Unfortunately, yes. We might be able to keep Minuette quiet, but Lemon has likely already told somepony. More like three someponies."
Twilight could only groan. Orion was going to be so mad.
Shining Armor groaned as he worked his shoulders under the thick cloth armor that weighed him down. The chainmail underneath did not help despite the undergarments meant to protect. He was chafing in places he didn't realize existed.
He was tired, sore, hungry, and wanted a bath. Even just dunking his head in a river would do at this point just to relieve some of the heat that had built up since early into the evening.
The reason for his condition lay at his hooves. One of a dozen.
Griffon raiders, dressed in old brown leather armor and strapped on plates, were scattered dead around him and his team.
Dawn's early morning light was just now breaking across the eastern horizon to filter through the canopy of trees, revealing the carnage not truly seen in the darkness of the night.
"Still think…that Sigurd wanted us…to help…his son?" Huffed Spitfire.
Shining had no answer, nor was he inclined to give one as he surveyed the area, searching for any survivors that may provide answers to why he and his team were attacked so suddenly in the early hours of the morning.
If he hadn't followed protocol, if Earnest had not set up the perimeter with tangle wire. Had he not had a personal shield cast on himself and his squad, the results would have been disastrous.
They had made camp the evening before in a copse of trees that had thick underbrush they cleared the way for. The pegasi of the group complained about the limited space to flex their wings until he pointed out the fact that their potential enemies were also winged and would suffer the same restrictions.
Spitfire and Storming's discomfort was a small price to pay for better security.
Earnest Hearts, the only campaign veteran beside himself, had rightfully fallen back to proper field training and, with the help of Pestle, were able to set up a wire field around their small encampment.
Finally, as an added precaution, he set up his personal shield to encompass all of them. Another thing his second in command had grumbled about.
He did understand her reasoning. Pegasi were naturally free ponies. It is part of their culture to be unbound. Between his shield and the lack of freedom of flight from the branches that hung low above them, he held no doubts that they were likely feeling claustrophobic.
They were mostly complaining to complain, as expected in her Highness's Armed Services.
The attack came in the early hours of the morning. Pestle Break had been on watch at that time, and was first alerted by the perimeter warning chime she was connected to. Her shout of alarm roused the rest of them, just as a blade struck his shield, where Spitfire had been resting.
He doubted she would complain again on this mission.
After the failed initial strike, it was as if all Tartarus had broken loose as the trees let loose a volley of arrows, and a horde of bandits burst from the bushes shouting war cries into the suddenly not-so-quiet night.
It was, at first, a futile attempt despite their superior numbers. Once the opening volley had struck Shining's shield, which he had noted with a snort of amusement that it didn't affect the strength of the magical bulwark whatsoever, he dropped a section of the barricade long enough for Spitfire and Storming Wing to take to the trees to start picking off the archers that were no doubt going to start moving now that the battle had begun in earnest.
The second volley of arrows met his magical defense once more as the first wave of assailants struck at the same time. There was no sound that assaulted their ears anytime an arrow or blade smacked into the barrier and was rebuffed. Years of training had gotten rid of the metallic gong that had plagued him during his early days after the discovery of his talent.
A good thing, too, as the bandits' weapons likely would have left them deaf after the first few failed charges.
Between the launch of arrows, Shining would drop the shield to allow a few to come stumbling through, tripped up by the momentum of battle and unable to recover fully. Between himself and the two others, the would-be ambushers stood no chance.
Though, as the battle raged on, even he had his limits. As his mana flow dipped below what he considered safe, he gave a warning to his companion before finally letting go. Pestle Break took over from there, firing off bolts of power at near point-blank range as he and Earnest Hearts did as much defensive push as possible with shields and swords in hand.
Shining's instructors had been correct in beating physical shield training into him as well, the metal aegis he had grown familiar with, came in handy deflecting sword strikes and blocking daggers thrown with as much ease as erecting a barrier of his own.
It seemed that the enemy was endless, but as the first rays of Celestia's Holy Sun broke over the horizon, the last opponent fell, skewered on Spitfire's slim lance from behind. It was a damn good throw.
"How many?" Shining ignored the sunflower-colored mare's veiled barbed. Getting into a pissing match with her at this moment was foolish. His eyes swept the battlefield, what had been their encampment.
Charred corpses from the earlier spellfire smoked in the sunlight that filtered in through the trees. Mud churned up with blood marked where they had held their ground. It had been so sudden, and despite the superior training and skill, they were still pushed back several paces before the end.
"I counted thirty-five," Ernest spoke up, sounding more like she went for a light jog than a pitched battle against them.
"Eighty-three." Storming countered, swooping down from a low branch. "They had a lot of archers."
"Only eighty-three?" He asked incredulously.
"After the first couple of shield drops, they pulled back a good portion of their forces. I believe they would have run had it not been for me and the second lieutenant. I myself managed to snipe six from running back into the underbrush. To be fair, sir, there were only five of us."
He nodded thoughtfully in agreement, looked at his blade, and with a cleansing spell, he purged the blood from the weapon before he sheathed it with a frustrated slam.
"Are any of them still alive?"
"That I do not know, sir."
"We got a live one!" Called Earnest, who had marched into the thicket during Storming Wing's report.
As she came out, fighting the thick underbrush with nearly every hoofstep, she pulled a bloodied body, with only one wing attached.
"Um, sort of?" She said with a grimace.
"Put them near the campfire," Shining said automatically.
Despite the battle, they managed to preserve their camp with relative ease. Fighting amongst the gear and supplies would have been disastrous for more than just risking trip hazards. The moment the alarms went off, and despite his own groggy state, he managed to cast All Fight's Defense . One of the first defensive spells he had learned, and the one that required the least amount of magic to use.
That particular construction allowed them to get untangled from their bedrolls and some distance from their equipment without worry.
"Pestle? Would you check the status of the prisoner?" Shining's talent with the healing school of magic was decent, but as he approached the bandit, he could already tell the damage exceeded his abilities to compensate.
He had trained in battlefield triage, but the damage done was beyond a field medics' capabilities.
"It's not good…" She mumbled as she bent over, her horn lighting up to an eerie soft blue. It was almost transparent. "Um, sir?"
"Yes?" He knelt down next to her, his own horn coming to life in a deeper blue as he attempted to clean away some of the blood so they could have a better look at what was wrong.
"He is not going to make it. Blood loss has caused him to lose consciousness. The tangle wire hit two arteries. Both of the wing ones here," she pointed at where the wire had completely sheared off the left, " and here." She pointed to a slowly gushing wound on the right. "The wire nearly sawed clean through."
The thin metal had cut right into the humerus. Not all the way, but enough to tear the artery in half.
"Shit. No way you can wake him?"
"I can wake him, sir. But he is going to die faster. As it stands, I don't know enough about a griffon's biology to keep him alive. Once he wakes up. It's a matter of minutes." She shook her bag gently, and the potion bottles clinked together in response. "I did not think to make any for his species either." She sighed, then nodded. "However, I can bring him to full consciousness for a very limited amount of time. If he's going to talk, he'll be at least lucid for it, but remember. It won't be long."
She gave him a look.
"We aren't…going to torture him, are we?"
"Absolutely not. Not only would that be against the Accords, but I personally would be offended if any in my command suggested it." The look of relief that washed over her face almost made him smile. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed the rest of the team. "Earnest, I need you to cover us. Spitfire, Storming, I want you in the trees to alert us if there are more inbound." He shot another glance at the battlefield. "Though I suspect they sent all they had at us. Still, a pony never rests on her laurels when timberwolves may still be in the field."
"First Lieutenant, this is a waste of bucking time. There is no way this featherhead is gonna tell us anything but to go buck ourselves." Spitfire had made no move. Instead, she adopted an insolent stance and glared challengingly at him.
Shining was very careful not to let any anger or frustration show.
The Second Lieutenant's turn back toward the line of insubordination was not unexpected. He had even noted in his own head how this attack would be fuel for her push for a less-than-diplomatic approach while he had been in the thick of it.
Why Command had placed her in his group, he still had no idea, but he was beginning to suspect it was to give an honest assessment of her capabilities to lead and take orders. Either that or to take rightful command from him. The entirety of the military’s upper echelon of commanding officers were mares, and a good portion was already displeased that he had risen so high in ranks.
"Second Lieutenant Spitfire, if there is even a chance of knowing the why, and, more importantly, the how they found us, I will take it." He took a deep breath. Maybe he wasn't as calm as he thought he was. "Now, cover us. As Specialist Pestle has said, he won't have long once he wakes up. Either way, we move within the hour."
For a moment, Shining thought she was planning to argue the point further. Finally, she gave herself a shake, wings puffing up in agitation, and took to the air to set herself opposite of Storming Wing.
He most certainly did not breathe a sigh of relief. That was Sergeant Earnest. He gave a raised eyebrow to the mare, which earned a blush from the earth-colored pony.
"Sorry, sir. But I thought she was about to issue Challenge." Her gaze swept to the tree line.
"I think she understands the pressure of this mission more than we may give her credit for." He said without conviction. He was beginning to worry himself over the mental control the pegasus had on herself.
"She may understand it, sir." Came Pestle's voice, pulling his attention back to her and their prisoner. "However, I think Sergeant Earnests' concern bears some notice. We all agree on one thing, Sir. If she does push for a change in command of this mission, we will reject it."
The "sir" had been rather pronounced.
It was odd to the white stallion. At first, the mares of his little squad had continued to treat him as they would any random stallion they would find. Lewd comments and suggestive actions seemed to come as much as they breathed.
Typical soldier behavior.
But as their journey took them ever farther east, just north of the Unicorn Range and what the locals called the Garberithian Mountains, the group's flippancy had begun to change. Starting with their more liberal use of sir when addressing him.
If he was a betting pony, it would likely be because of the many groups of refugees they had begun to encounter with increasing frequency.
With them, they carried tales of burned-out homes, of killed family members, and of robbery. However, there were tales of hope as well, news of bandits being put to sword and ax. Of a force in the area moving swiftly to save communities, if not the land they had dwelled on.
In those encounters, Shining and Pestle worked to heal those with the most grievous injuries.
Earnest surprised them all with knowing the funeral rites and helping griffon families say their last goodbyes.
Even Storming demonstrated compassion by entertaining the little ones so that their parents could attend to more serious matters.
All but Spitfire was chipping in.
Shining Armor could not fathom how the mare could look into the face of such tragedy and not be moved to render aid. She would just stand there, posting guard, and waiting the team out as they helped those they could before moving on.
He shook his head.
"I thank you for your support, Specialist. Now, let's wake this griffon up, and see what he knows and is willing to tell."
"Dyin', ain't I?"
That had not been the first words Pestle had expected the prisoner to say upon waking up after she used a low-yield shock spell centered around the griffon's brainstem to jolt him awake.
The mild electrocution was the very last thing she did. The Specialist first did everything she could to artificially seal up the holes in the most important blood vessels in his body. The second was keeping the heart pumping, and lungs performing as they should.
Judging by his words, he could very likely feel something was wrong, which wasn't out of the norm. The array of spells being used to keep his blood and heart moving was a rather forceful one despite them being designed for delicate work such as this. Try as pony medical knowledge did, there were still gaps in understanding and skill that needed to be bridged.
"I'm…afraid so, yes." Lieutenant Armor was calm. Kneeling next to her, he towered but did not seem to dominate. A far cry from his earlier efficiency in dispatching his opponents.
"Heh heh…oh…it hurts ta lauf…" the prone bandit grimaced and licked his beak. "I can't believe I got caught by a wire, of all things. Had a nasty surprise for you lot." He chuckled darkly to himself.
"I am sure you did," Shining commented dryly. "May I ask your name?"
"Heh, so ya can pump me for information, eh? Get to know me, right? Build a rep..a repo…sod it, get in good with me? That's a laugh."
Pestle wanted to sigh. He was no dummy and knew what they wanted the moment he locked eyes with them. With no promise of survival, the odds were not in their favor of learning anything.
Despite her disagreement with the Second Lieutenant on protocol and what was important, she did have to admit that this was very likely a waste of time. It didn't help any that while she could not feel anything, the sensation of his lungs heaving as they struggled to take in oxygen past the slowly congealing blood was making her queasy.
"Something like that, yes." The Specialist's head swung to her commanding officer in shock. She almost lost her focus; she was so surprised by the blunt honesty in his words that the formula nearly spiralled in on itself. That would not have been a pretty sight.
"Hah! Hah! I like your colors!" His excitement briefly dipped into a coughing fit that nearly stopped his heart. Grimacing, he spoke again. "What's in it for me?" His arm struggled, and he only got a finger up to point in her direction. "Judgin' by 'er face, ya can't save me. What's good tellin' ya what I know?"
"Nothing to you, I suppose. However, do you not feel just a little bit of guilt over what you've done?"
"Sir, perhaps just a little less honesty?"
"Hah! I ain't never had a regret, except maybe drawing the bad stick on this sticky little detail." The bandit mumbled back.
For the first time this morning, Lieutenant Armor looked unsure. The silence stretched on, punctuated by the prisoner's heavy breathing.
"Names Gregory." His voice sounded weaker now, and dry. Pestle applied another layer to the algorithm keeping his heart pumping, and began fishing in her bag for some sterilzed water.
"My name is Shining." The stallion replied in kind.
"Heh, silly pony name." More silence, then: "I may have a few regrets…them hatchlings…I shoulda said…something I think. Bah. It's dead and gone… Just like 'em." He turned his beak away at the offer of water. “Don’t waste it, Luv.”
Pestle's stomach sank. Gregory had just admitted to the death of foals. Or at least some involvement on their end.
"What do you wanna know?" The drake spoke in a whisper.
"How did you find us?" Shining was wasting no time, likely knowing the end was fast approaching even without his metaphorical finger on his pulse.
"Heh…a wee bit hard to hide a group of ponies stompin'...about. Not to mention ya did very little to hide yourselves. How could we not notice?"
Her commander nodded with a wry smile, then went on with his inquiries.
"Why come after us at all? As far as I know l, we had nothing to do with one another, and not to sound arrogant but attacking us does have certain…ramifications."
"And I'd agree with ya. But, fuck it, there are those above me…well, us, that wouldl gut us as soon as look at us."
"You willingly joined with a band that would just as well kill you as employ you?" Shining asked incredulously.
"Naw, it ain't so harsh as all that. Well, it is, but I think your whorse mind sees more than I am sayin'." He coughed, and there was no way to ignore the blood dribbling from his beak.
Pestle wiped some of it away with gauze.
"Thank ya, lass. Can't be looking too dirty for when I meet the Boreas." She had no idea who that was but knew of it for the deity it sounded like.
"So you were told to come after us?" Shining prompted him.
"Yeah… higher-ups and all that. Of course, they got their own bosses too."
"Of course. However, despite our journey through these lands, we had not acted against you. I could understand it if you were simply attacking the next traveler on the road, but we purposefully hid away from the main road. So why us?"
Gregory coughed weakly, humor no longer able to turn up his beak.
"If you weren't now, you will be once you run into the prince. Figured Ol' Bloodbeak finally got wise and hired some ponies to lend his son a hand."
"Prince Gerhard is not our original mission."
"Ah, but is now, innut? That ol' bird gots something you pones want, and you are out here because of it. My bosses may be flank holes, as you would call them, but they ain't stupid."
"No, you assessed it accurately." Shining cocked his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. "Tell me, have you heard of another pony out here? A young colt, black fur and orange maned?"
"No…" The griffon wheezed. There wasn't much time left. "Other than you, I hadn't heard of wind-blasted colt running around out here…well, no. That's not true now that I think it; some new blood settlers were talkin' about a pony that had given them advice. Second hand though, none of ‘em knew him."
Her commander sighed heavily.
"Not definitive, but it's more than what we had."
"Ya out here looking for one measly pone?" At the stallion's silent nod, all Gregory could do was laugh. Laugh so hard blood bubbled past his beak, far from an acceptable amount of it. One of his lungs nearly collapsed from the strain. "I…I got a request." He coughed again and groaned. "I have…no…no right ta ask…but…" He takes a small rattling breath. "Can ye find it within ye ta give us all our last rites? P-please…don't leave us to the forest…floor. Let us soar at least one last time."
Pestle was familiar with the last rites of the griffon people, as they had helped perform it over the last few days with other Griffonians that they had encountered.
The Final Soar, as they had called it, was a ritual burning. Their bodies were placed upon a pyre of wood and lit aflame. Through this method, their ashes are allowed to scatter on the wind to join with a deity they most likely do not believe in any longer, Boreas, the God of the Winds.
Certain pegasus families practiced this method as well, but instead of Boreas, it was to honor their greatest champion, Ventum Rapidi. To become the rising heat to keep her gliding for all time.
No pony used names like that anymore, but if a mother were to name their child Rushing Wind, then that parent had high hopes for their child's ability.
"I will."
That wasn't a surprise. One of the reasons Pestle stopped her teasing of the stallion had not been the private revelation of his involvement with a rarely seen princess, but because of his compassion to help others despite the nature of their mission. The stallion had the honor of ten mares, and, if she was honest with herself, more courage than most she had met.
Truly, he was not the soft deskborns that inhabited the clerical offices of Command Administration.
"Thank…ye…" Gregory smiled. "If it's the Prince you gotta find, you are…only…a day…behind…wily…bastard…doubled back two days ago. He bloodied us good. He's to…to the…north…"
"Thank you, Gregory. May your colors burn bright." Shining smiled and placed a hand on the griffon's shoulder.
"M…may your soul…soar high…" At a nod from her commander, she eased the intensity of her spells to allow the prisoner to slip into unconsciousness again. Once done, she severed her magic entirely, and with a whistle-like sound, the griffonian passed on.
"I hate that." She said.
"Me too." Shining echoed. "Done it often?"
"No." Pestle shook her head and dusted off her chausses, and stood. "Just a couple of times, and those were ponies. This," she gestured at the corpse, "honestly felt the same, though."
"How so?"
"Sir, I don't like the feeling of keeping a dying pony alive like that. And with him, I felt the same way. It feels…wrong."
"If it makes you feel any better, Specialist, I completely agree with you." He stood and dusted his own armored legs off. "Necessity doesn't mean we should enjoy it. The fact that we don't, I think, means a good thing."
"A good thing, sir?"
His lips quirked into a small, sad smile. "Means we haven't become monsters yet."
"I suppose you are correct." She paused. "Are we really going to see to…?" She left the question unfinished.
"Absolutely. There is enough deadwood here to start a big enough fire to consume them all." He looked over to Earnest and nodded. She had very likely heard the whole conversation. "Besides, this copse of trees is too exposed. We won't be leaving till later tonight, so my original plan was a poor one anyway."
"Why?" It was such a surprise she forgot to add the sir. He didn't seem to mind.
"I doubt they just sent these guys in without a watcher. By now, they know at least some of us are alive. Judging by the size of the force, I would say they sent what they had available considering what Gregory had told us. Prince Gerhard's force must be wreaking havoc in the area, and that should be enough of a distraction to get our flanks out of here once darkness falls." He grinned. "At least we know which direction to look."
"Are you sure he wasn't just lying to us, sir?" Earnest said, already grabbing wood to pull toward the far side of the clearing. The rain from the past two days would ensure the fire did not get out of hand once started, so a fire inside the speck of forest would do no lasting damage.
"There is the chance, but I think not. He didn't have to tell us that last bit. No." He shook his head. "Whatever he has done in this life, his final moments were honest."
Pestle could only look at her squad leader and shrugged. Time would be the only teller of whether that was true or not, and in truth, none of them were in any shape to move at that moment.
While the battle may have gone entirely in their favor, the exhaustion from so vicious a fight had sapped them all to weariness. It would be more than a few hours before she had the confidence to light more than a candle.
Second Lieutenant Spitfire put up a fuss. Mostly at the idea of giving their foes a final send-off. The idea of honoring the First Lieutenant's commitment seemed to be absurd to the pony. But even she agreed they needed rest. Still, five ponies against eighty-three opponents had to be some kind of record, and since she was not only the team's Medic and Recon Specialist, she would have to scribe the battle down for her superior's future reports.
Sneaking out of the copse was proving easier than Shining had expected.
It was sundown now, save for a slightly red hue from the west. The sun, guided by Celestia herself, was throwing out the very last rays of light onto the world's sky. The only other illumination was from the glittering stars that shone high and bright.
No sign of the moon and its haunting image of a unicorn pockmarked into its surface. Shining took that as a good sign. When the Mare on the Moon reared her head, events often seemed to become complicated.
Sometimes downright disastrous.
That might have just been superstition, though, as only ponies in sleepy little hamlets paid any mind to the fairy tales that merely served to frighten foals into their beds.
He chuckled to himself softly. Once upon a time, Shining was also sent running to his bed in fear of the Nightmare claiming him.
During the day, they had set up the mass prye, having to gather all the dead wood and fall a couple of trees for good measure. Spitfire had indeed spotted a trio of watchers, just as he had predicted, on the hills to the west and north of their position. He had been right; the force that came against them had not been alone, but seeing as no more seemed to be coming, those eyes were likely looking for the direction they would be taking.
Pestle had wondered aloud what the griffons who were still acting as lookouts on those naturally raised portions of dirt were seeing as each trunk was brought down in a bubble of silence that he himself was casting on each designated trunk. That gave the group a chuckle as they downed the last few for the field funeral. Seeing trees suddenly falling with no noise had to be a strange sight indeed.
Now, the small five-pony squad was sneaking out of the small collection of trees to the south, using the foliage as an obstruction for their would-be pursuers.
The pyre had yet to be lit. A delayed spell was running, and soon the algorithm would zero itself out, and activate the linked fire spells through the stacked wood.
Not only would Shining make good on his promise to the now departed Gregory, but by delaying the ignition of the kindling, it would serve as a distraction while he and his soldiers cleared the area and circled back northward.
"How much time do we have?" The white stallion asked in hushed tones to Pestle Break.
They were wrapped in a sound-dampening bubble, so it wasn't truly necessary to speak so low. But habits die hard; even though the armor he wore clinked noisily in the night, nopony beyond a ten-foot radius would ever hear a thing.
"Not long, maybe five minutes, sir," Pestle responded.
"Good, good. When that pyre goes up, it will be as good a marching band for a distraction. Earnest? How's the cleanup?"
"Not too bad." She huffed. "I wish we could slow the pace just a bit; doing this like I am is sloppy work at best."
Earnest Hearts had a rare ability not often found in earth ponies in this day and age. Much like a Diamond Dog, she could physically change the structure of the dirt. The difference between the two was distance. A Diamond Dog could only affect what their claws touch; with her earth pony ability to help in agriculture, had a range of a few paces from her.
This allowed the mare to erase their tracks as they moved. Lifting the pressed-down ground where their hooves impacted, and making it look as if nopony had ever been there.
The downside was that it wasn't a quick process as one of the mutts would be able to accomplish. With their hasty pace to reach the next tree line, this forced the Sergeant to work quickly. Which made her unsure if she was successful, or just making it more obvious.
"Do what you can, Sergeant. We believe in your ability." He had gotten lucky with the team that had been provided with.
During the long train ride up, and with the mares sleeping, he had gone over the dossier on each member of his team of rescuers.
Earnest Hearts was a remarkable example of her race. He suspected if she were somehow given a focus, like the one stamped on his forehead, she might be more than capable of standing amongst the unicorns in terms of potential.
Pestle Break was excellent in both healing and illusion. Possessing a photographic memory, she could remember everything with near-perfect clarity.
Her healing talent did not come from magic, though she was thoroughly trained in field applications, but from potions, she could make for herself. A little sought-after skill amongst the majority of their shared race, but one he could easily see the advantage of.
As far as her illusions, while not a talent, however, due to her memory, she could easily remember the difficult spells in their entirety. Currently, they were inside a bubble, one that bent light itself around them to hide their presence out in the open and silence the noise they made as they trudged through the open field.
Storming Wing, he truly believed, did not belong in the Guard. Her talent for creating and banishing storms on her own was incredible. However, she had found a way to not just generate rain clouds with the flick of a wrist; all manner of weather was at her disposal, such as creating fog banks.
Her only limit was how dry an area might be.
Spitfire he already knew of. The fiery-spirited mare was, quite simply, one of the fastest flyers in the whole armed forces. In fact, she might actually be the fastest now that he thought about it.
It was clear to him that if the mission should fail, she could get back to Equestria with a report before his corpse was cold.
Not a comforting thought, but at least somepony would know what happened should the worse occur.
The question was, why? It was one that had plagued him for a couple of weeks now. These assets could have been better served elsewhere. Instead, they were being squandered on one colt.
One annoying pony who had a knack for getting into mischief and not feeling the least bit guilty over it after the fact.
No. No, that was unfair of him to think that way. Orion did regret the things he had done. However, the unicorn could not help himself but to dive in head first into trouble.
Such had been the case with that poor colt he had managed to save in a lonely alley off a park.
Or here in Griffonia, giving solid advice to the predator people on how to improve their lives.
If anything, it was a reminder that Shining himself was not that different from him.
"Ignite has activated." Pestle's more analytical voice broke him from his thoughts. "We should see something of the fire shortly."
Inside the bubble of illusion, one would normally not be able to see anything but blackness. However, a part of the formula matrix that constructed the spell, was what could be described as a sensory probe that allowed them to see outside the layers of warped magic.
It cast a perfect live visual from the outside onto the inside, allowing them to navigate the field to the next line of trees.
As Pestle had predicted, the grove of trees they had first made their camp was soon bathed in a haunting glow of orange and red.
"Heh, they've taken the bait, Shining," Spitfire said. Her eyesight was the best among them, and her job was to watch for enemy activity as they slowly made their escape.
"Excellent." The lone stallion in the group said with enthusiasm. "The moment we get to those trees over there, we hunker down and wait them out."
"Really? Just wait till they leave?" The spirited pegasus said with a frown.
"We have enough food and water to last us a few days. Bandits are not known for their patience. A day, maybe two at most, and they will have left. Likely, they will figure we teleported away."
"And once…they're gone?" Huffed Earnest. Shining grimaced, hopefully, it wouldn't be much longer, and the mare could rest.
"Then we circle around and head north."
"Are we really going to go out of our way on the word of some dead bird?" At least Spitfire sounded less argumentative.
"At this point, we don't have much in the way of options. Other than Gregory's final words, we only have the conjecture of a few civilians to rely on, and they were not very specific, mind you."
"He has a point, LT." Came their medic's dry response. "Not sure what there is to discuss now."
Shining very carefully kept his expression neutral, but couldn't help but inwardly gape at Pestle's near admonishment of their second in command. And he had at one time believed her to be the more laid back of the three.
If the yellow mare was upset at the near insubordination, she did not voice it. Instead, she remained silent, her eyes locked onto the growing bonfire behind them, and the activities of the enemy as they swarmed a safe distance away.
It didn't take long, and the lone earth pony of his team fell to the ground in exhaustion.
"Let's make camp; I'll take first watch. Sergeant, you will not be posting watch tonight." Shining smiled at the grateful expression on the mare's face as she unrolled her bedroll.
As they hunkered down for the rest of that evening, him settling against the trunk of a tree for the first watch, he thought he saw something that shouldn't be.
A lone figure stepping out of the copse of trees, the profile of a pony displayed by the burning pyre, a unicorn to be accurate.
Shining blamed it on the lack of sleep, having been up for nearly twenty-two hours. Because as he blinked and rubbed his eyes, and looked once more, the pony was gone. As if they never were there, to begin with.
Author's Note
Look at that. Another Chapter posted in the afternoon hours of Sunday. I hope you have all had a good two weeks. I am trying to respond more to the comments. Forgive me for the slow roll that is my response times.
In any case, this chapter was one of the more difficult ones to set and make cohesive to the overall story, but I like how it turned out.
Spring is coming to us in the Northern Hemisphere. So instead of you doing the typical comments on my progress, I wanna hear what y'all have planned for this year, any exciting vacations? War with Roman Candles?
As always, thank you for reading!
Peace!
Waiting in the Dark
Orion's ears twitched in time to the slow, steady drip of water splashing against the cavern floor. He couldn't help it, like an involuntary response or an itch that wouldn't go away. His ear just kept beat with each droplet that splashed somewhere in the darkness.
Then there was, of course, the snoring. One of the Dogs set to watch him was asleep, and from the sounds of it, destroying an entire forest in the process. From his vantage point, and with the help of a couple of clear stones stuffed with some kind of glowing substance he hadn't bothered to identify, he could just see them.
One, leaning against the wall with a crude cudgel against his knees and dressed in only a soiled loin cloth, his head lolling to the side against a wall, was just snoring away for all he was worth. The low light made it impossible to really see details, but looking at the burly breed, he could only describe him as some type of bulldog. He could even see patches of missing fur and an open sore on the left thigh that looked like it hadn't been disinfected.
The other, looking more like that dog he had seen on The Little Rascals , sat and simply stared off into space. Occasionally picking his nose and eating whatever he managed to dig out.
But the black colt was not deceived into thinking he might somehow get the jump on either of them.
No, that ear on the still awake one occasionally flicked in his direction; after a moment, the Diamond Dog would nod, and the ear would return to a more normal position.
"At least one of them isn't an idiot." He thought sourly.
Not that any plan of escape would have a decent margin for success in any case. He was virtually blind inside what was no doubt a rat's nest of tunnels and dead ends. Without his Radar enchantment, there was no way he was going to be able to make it out on his own.
That had terrified him at first. The nullstone ring was nothing, and he could deal with that. Radar had the wonderful ability to be able to operate without needing magic fed into it. Many of the ornaments he wore did so as well, a fail-safe for just an occasion as this.
But since the bastards had taken them all, it was pointless to make any kind of egress from his current situation.
Then there was the nullstone ring wrapped securely around his horn. While it wasn't truly a hindrance, as he had lived much of his previous life without magic, it was still stuck on with no way of coming loose, which was likely ultimately why Barney had him untied from the wall. Without spells, the mutt was convinced he posed little threat.
Orion had to agree despite still being physically capable.
Since leaving Equestria on his little vacation, he had found that all the "badass" skills he thought would work in the real world meant a pile of dog shit compared to reality.
Reality, the dream killer.
Gilda had been a prime example that he was not fast enough and was just the first in a long list of issues. The fact that these mutts managed to sneak up on him. Him! With all the enchantments at his disposal, it was just another nail in the coffin that he was doing something wrong.
More and more, he was convinced that the events on AJ's family farm were a freak accident brought on by some insane godlike being that was just waiting to drop the hammer on him.
That wasn't a comforting though in a world of magic, that might very well be possible.
"Please don't let that be a reality and just chalk it up to me being extremely lucky." He prayed fervently in his own mind.
Thumping his head against the wall, he redirected his thoughts to the conversation a few hours ago.
Barney was a wreck of a leader. Either the dog wasn't cut out for the role, or he had been under such immense stress tha,t at this point, there wasn't much left of his sanity.
Considering his workforce, the latter was an all too real possibility.
When he had marched into the room, trying to project an air of confidence and authority that Orion didn't even need a Liedar , another enchantment he still hadn’t gotten to work right, to tell him the fucker was terrified.
He chuckled dryly to himself, which got Rascal's attention for a moment before he was ignored once more with a snort.
The runt of a leader had been cagey about how he was supposed to "help". A lot of questions about who he had come with, why they were here, what was going on in the town, and why he was blowing boulders up in a field.
Orion learned that because of his little experiment in heat expansion, he had become a target to a couple of the dumber examples of their species.
Barney didn't even want him, a realization that had been pieced together after everything was said and done. That had actually been a shock to figure out. The waist-high canine was actually in a fury over his capture. But when he suggested just getting his stuff back and being let go, he got a flat look and the comment: "You don't know Griffons, pup."
That raised all sorts of questions. Chief among those is the relationship between the species.
He had heard some of the birdcat people in Aviary regard their northern neighbors with a mixture of pity and outright disgust, even anger in some cases.
Still, at the end of the interview, Orion was left with more questions than he had answered.
The big one being, what was going to happen to him?
Movement in his periphery and the accompanying sound of flesh smacking against stone drew his attention to the entrance and pulled him to his hooves.
The person standing there was not Rascal or the sleeping one, but another short Diamond Dog. He thought it was Barney again, back with more questions or to hit him with a stick some more. In which case, he may just go through with his threat and bite the living hell out of him.
However, what stood before him was a female of the species, the second that he encountered down in these dark depths and the first he could actually see, which wasn't much due to the low lighting.
Her fluffy fur, of which color might have been rust red or orange, was decked out with a threadbare garment that was little more than rags that just hid her body from view. Short muzzle, like the aforementioned leader of mutts, and startlingly piercing blue eyes.
Those seemed to almost glow in the darkness of the cell.
For long minutes, the pair just stared at each other. Orion couldn't tolerate that for long.
"Can I help you? Or did you just come to stare? I don't do tricks." He broke the silence, as her eyes were a bit unnerving. The way they cast over him, taking in details that Barney certainly didn't bother with, made him uncomfortable.
A giggle escaped her lips. It was thin and without much humor, but it was there.
"Well, he was correct. You definitely don't sound like a pony." He blinked at her.
"No shit? And here I thought everyPONY," he emphasized the last portion of the word, "sounded like me. Fuck me running. I just guess I was fooling myself."
"No. And do not act like that." She suddenly chided. "You are smarter than that. Act with your intelligence, please."
"Okay, wow. Who the hell is this bitch?" He almost laughed. That slur might actually be appropriate in this instance.
"Fine. What the fuck do you want?"
The unknown canine gave him a flat look before saying, "Come with me." With that, she turned and walked away.
Orion just stared after her. Watching her fluffy tail slowly wave back and forth as it disappeared and reappeared as she passed through the areas where the tunnel was lit up.
"What the hell is going on?"
The still unnamed Dog stopped beside his jailers, and looked back at him expectantly. Rascal had not moved, and Sleeping Beauty had woken up to look at her, give a respectful nod, and was already sawing logs.
Was she Barney's wife? Sister? Second cousin twice removed?
Quickly he decided that it would be better to get out and stretch his legs than continue to stare at her like an oncoming train was about to end his life. He got his legs moving. Ducking his head down as he stumbled into the tunnel after her.
"If this is some bullshit game, I am going to bite someone." He noted without mirth that he might be coming a little too fond of the euphemism.
Nodding, obviously more to herself than just him, she turned left and headed down the passage. Orion hesitated when passing his wardens, but neither made to get up to stop him. Taking that as the go-ahead, he quickly followed her steps.
Here, lights were a little more present, but like the one in his cell, they were weak and pulsed slightly. It was oddly hypnotic, and he found himself leaning in to see what they actually were.
His eyes adjusted to the increase in light with proximity, and he flinched back.
"Is that…wiggling!?"
They were insects! The Dogs had found and used what he believed were cave insects that possessed bioluminescent properties. Likely better than lighting a fire and letting the smoke billow up into the higher reaches of tunnels. Rather clever of them.
"Glowbugs. We discovered them in the lower reaches of the cave we built our Den into." Her response startled him. She had somehow snuck up on him while he had been distracted.
"And…the glass?" It looked like glass, only really grainy.
"Stone, actually. We have a process by which we alter the look and feel of rocks to be more see-through. Some of the wealthier Packs use crystals, and even diamonds if they are particularly rich."
He gave her a side-eyed glance. "What are you up to?"
Orion was a bit unnerved, to say the least. She had appeared, had him come with her, without a guard no less, and was now giving him an overview of how they made their lights.
"Do you have a name, or do I just call you "Her" for the duration of this field trip?" That giggle again, strained and sounding very much out of practice.
"My name is Tilly. You've met my brother, Barney, already."
So his second guess was correct, she was the sister.
"How come you don't sound like him?" Tilly's accent was a bit more polished. He heard the New Yorker in her, but only just barely.
"Our mother spent more time with me than him. She was a…she led an interesting life before she came to know our father."
"Oh." He did not pry, because he could see the pain in her eyes when she mentioned both of her parents said volumes on a terrible history.
Not knowing what else to do, he gestured for her to continue down the hall and hoped that a little silence would wash away the awkward moment he had inadvertently caused.
It was not long before he was led to a large open chamber, one naturally made rather than created with tools, or in their case, claws.
There was evidence of stalactites having been removed, as well as stalagmites. Allowing for pathways to be made that went down other tunnels he could see. Pillars of stone had been shaved away roughly to allow passage around them while still acting as support. Often what lined those pathways was more glowbugs inside the weirdly clear stone Tilly had mentioned before.
The open space also allowed him to do one thing he had not been able to in his cell, or the passage that brought them here.
He stood, and every bone in his spine popped, sending echoes all about them and pulling a groan from the depths of his soul.
"Ow, you need to seriously consider raising the roof on like…everything."
"You might try shrinking instead. You are too tall." She giggled again. At least one of them was happy.
He shot her a withering look.
Though she was right in retrospect. Orion towered over every Diamond Dog that he had seen so far. According to his brief instruction on them in biology, the average Dog was not that tall. Though many seemed to stoop naturally so it might be possible, there were larger ones out there with straightened-out backs.
"Whatever." He finally said, eliciting more giggles from his snarky guide. "This is a lovely cave, but unless you are giving me the grand tour on my way out, I don't see the point of all this."
"It's not far." Was her non-answer as she took a turn, and headed toward the far side. Forcing himself to once again trudge after, he couldn't help but notice in the improved lighting of the chamber what he hadn't before.
Tilly was emaciated. As if she had not been eating in a couple of weeks. Past the grime he could now see the garments that hung loosely on her, and he could not help but notice the joints of her spine protruding outward in a disturbing way.
The sudden thought of knocking her out and trying to make his way out on his own was ruthlessly crushed by shame and self-loathing. She had not done anything to him personally and was showing him a good deal of kindness by letting him out of confinement, even if only for a momentary reprieve. He hoped she could not see his ears flushing in the gloom.
Now, if Barney was the one giving him a tour, that would be a different story.
Their journey went on for a time, the tunnel they marched through occasionally punctuated by a variety of rooms or other side passages that lead into locations unknown. Mostly the chambers seemed to be mushroom farms of some sort.
At one room's entrance, he simply stopped and took in more than what a few glances could provide.
The black and yellow fungi sat in inch-deep water like some weird twist on rice fields he had seen pictures of what felt like a lifetime ago. Looking above he could see stalactites dripping steadily down into the standing water.
"Must be something in the stone that feeds them…" He muttered to himself.
"Excuse me? What did you say?"
She was at his side again with no indication of how she got there other than her sudden appearance. She had been several steps away from him when he had stopped.
Orion blinked at her, then shrugged and explained what he was muttering about.
"I was just trying to figure out how the hell you guys can grow mushrooms down here. I am betting on something in the stone that comes off as water slides down them and into the catch basins below."
"Oh." Was all she said as she looked first at the ceiling, then below at where the mushrooms sat. "That might be it. Honestly, we don't know. Do you study plants?"
"Naw. I just know a little about a lot. At least enough to reason out what might be happening if not fully understanding it." He shrugged again.
"I see. Well, come. We don't have much farther to go." Clearly, the canine was not looking for an education in mycology, not that he could provide one with any sense of fact, but her clear dismissal of the topic indicated that she had other far more important things on her mind.
Tilly turned and left. Her little tail just swishing back and forth. Orion followed, noting her continued shift in mood from mischievous, to concern.
It wasn't long before the unlikely pair came into another large chamber, this one completely carved out of the earth.
Several alcoves could be seen scattered throughout with pallets of what he hoped was grass tucked away into their corners.
"A sleeping chamber?"
His guide said nothing, but she also didn't move. Just standing to one side, her eyes switching from him to the rest of the room.
"Okay, she apparently wants me to figure it out myself."
Looking closer, he noticed only a few of the dugout bedrooms were occupied. Those occupiers looked out at him fearfully, shrinking back when his gaze fell on them with whimpers and mutterings.
"Why are they looking at me as if I am the devil himself?"
Something was very wrong here. He looked at the empty holes in the walls again, noting that some had little stairs leading up above to more little bedrooms. Those were empty too, far too many holes, and most of them showed signs of recent habitation.
A sickening feeling settled into his stomach.
"What happened?" He asked and grimaced when his voice made the Dogs flinch and turn away.
"We are not yet certain." Came his guide's subdued voice. "We had sent out a hunting party not too long before you arrived during the night. Our hope was to get some meat or anything we can eat, but those sent away have not returned, and it has been too long." A pause. "We Diamond Dogs do not like to be on the surface for long." Tilly said soberly.
Orion groaned.
This had Screaming written all over it. No, this was likely Eberhard's plan. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that whatever happened, was the actions of griffons.
Judging by the short canine face next to him, she had reasoned out the same. Which meant so did Barney.
"I don't see them acting in cold blood. This is likely going to be a hostage exchange, or they're going to attempt it to be so. They know I'm here, and the Dogs are likely just now becoming aware of that fact. Shit. If that little prick is difficult…."
If this turned sour, a lot of people were going to die, and he may just be one of them.
"How many have you sent out to check? To look for them." He asked, softer this time so as not to put further stress on those still in their homes.
"None, we don't have enough Dogs to send out again." She paused. "And we don't wanna lose more."
"How many did you originally send out for food?"
"Thirty."
He knew his eyes had bulged, judging by the strain and her own sheepish sad smile, she could see at least the widening of expression.
"We are…desperate, Orion. Our pups are so hungry."
"Crap." He knew the game now. When whatever was going to happen finally went down, Tilly and the rest of them were likely hoping he would salvage the situation so they would not be hit as hard. It made sense.
"Just how many are there of you guys?"
"We number just over three hundred. Many are sick and hungry, so our overall population is not in good condition."
He nodded silently. Those were not good numbers. Could a tribe of Diamond Dogs sustain on just that alone? He had read somewhere that there was a set low end of how many could sustain a people. He couldn't remember the exact numbers, but he was positive it was more than what they had.
"You are dying."
"Yes."
Well, that was a mood killer if Orion had ever heard one.
"Any way to fight that?"
"Yes." It was a breathless word, one full of hope. "But it relies on our success here. Orion, Barney doesn't want me to tell you this, but I think it's important. We are not the only Diamond Dogs to leave the south and head elsewhere. We are one clan, but only I and Barney have brought our people this far north."
"Why? Why make the trip in a place that obviously hates you guys?"
"It was our idea that, because there was once an ancient kingdom, one that made wonders with crystals and gems not too far away, we would find a dragon's hoard of gems to pull from the ground." She kicked a stray rock with a paw. "We have been…too ambitious."
"So that was why a random group of mutts just appeared so far from where Dogs normally roam." It had been a gamble, something only desperate people would attempt.
"There is more isn't there?" It was Orion's turn to be sober. They had taken a chance, and now it may cost them their lives.
"Yes…there was a…civil war among us from the south." Her voice shook. "My brother and I lead one of many splinter groups from the infighting." Her eyes looked up to him, pleadingly with tears in her eyes. "I have no right to ask you, but as you are doing for the griffons, please, do for us."
"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!" He was a prisoner, suppressed, and had no authority whatsoever, yet still, this ball of teary-eyed fluff was begging for him to save them. "Why me?!"
The question prompted a little voice to suddenly pop into existence, with a slight manic tone to it.
"Because, you feel guilty for allowing yourself to be used to make others suffer. That guilt has gotten to the point where you will do just about anything to assuage even a quarter of it. But it will never be enough, will it? No, it won't-"
He crushed the voice as thoroughly as he had his earlier traitorous thoughts of escape.
"Where the fuck did that come from?!" It sounded like him, at least a little. But he had never heard himself sound quite so crazy.
Blinking and desperate to reorganize his thoughts, he looked back down at his escort.
"Okay, let me get this straight. You want me to do what? Teach you how to farm, build graineries, learn to store things for long term use? Build tools?"
Barney must have told her everything. He had unfortunately been too pissed off for deception and had said exactly what they were doing here. Minus mentioning the whole steel manufacturing plot.
"Yes!" She cried, gripping his torn pajama bottoms. "I don't…I don't want to see any more dead puppies! I don't want to bury another mother who could not live without their offspring!"
Tilly had maintained a calm and quiet composure through their little tour of Barker Den, but the moment he had figured out what she was asking for, pleading for, the wail that ripped from her throat as she buried her head into his leg tore at his soul.
Looking around, he could see those few others willing to meet his eyes with the same tears she was now painting his leg with.
A heavy sigh escaped him.
His heart yearned to help them, but he had so little time as it was just with the griffons alone. What could he possibly do in the time he had left for yet another broken people?
"We are ready, my Lady."
Dawn was fast approaching, and with it, the greatest challenge she had ever faced would come with it. Since just after midnight, the soldiers under her had been busy.
The Diamond Dogs had taken the bait, if not in the way they had originally expected.
Rather than come from the hidden tunnels that they had assumed, they had come from over the hills further north. Rounding the top they quickly spotted the herded wild gordat that had been left out for them to find.
It was almost pitiful how the howling pack, obviously ellated at their sudden increase in fortunes, descended onto the already aware animals. For a few moments, all the griffon soldiers could do was look on with pity as the Dogs tried, and failed, to capture even one of the well-fed beasts.
She had remembered wondering what had happened to these people to make them almost no better than a timberwolf, if much less effective of a hunter.
Eberhard had been the one to snap them out of their mournful trance, and quickly enough they had all thirty pinned to the ground, manacles securely binding hands and paws.
Now the dispirited group sat behind her, huddled against one another. Some shivering, some not. However, none of them could look their captors in the eyes.
"And their main entrance?" She asked, projecting as much stately calm as she could.
"There are at least ten now, and the other tunnels are showing activity as well. They either know we are here or this group is late on their return. Either Way, they know something has gone wrong." Eberhard sighed. "I had a few words with what passed for leadership amongst the group we have captured. From what I've been able to gather, they have no idea if Orion is there or not." He kicked at a small pile of odds and ends. "They had been sent out to hunt some days before. There is no way they would know anything about what had transpired in their absence."
She refused to listen to the little voice in her mind. This was absolutely the only way to get the results she wanted; she was sure of it. Still, she felt guilty. It was her decision that led to all of this now. But she comforted herself with knowing that their leadership ultimately started this.
"You are certain he is in there?" Her own beak betrayed the trembling in her heart.
"Yes, my Lady. There is very little doubt in my mind that he is within the warren of tunnels below." She wanted to ask how he knew for certain, but the advice of her uncle kept her tongue still.
"Sometimes, it's best to be unaware of what your subordinates know. Sometimes, it is best to simply trust in those most trusted."
At the time, he had looked to Eberhard, who had been in the courtyard with them instructing a newly trained Gilda Broadwing in her duties as a personal guard.
How Grace wished she could return to those days of learning, of first discovering her true past. Even if the learning came with the pain of knowing what she had lost.
She shook the memories away.
"Then…begin the next phase in your plan, Master Lonelycall. The sooner we can get to him, the better."
Grace took a steady breath.
"May the Winds buffet my flight. May Boreas keep my goal safe." A simple prayer, but not something the twelfth in line had done before. It had just been one of many firsts. And invoking a name of a deity that may or may not exist was perhaps a prudent precaution.
If there was something to this god of the skies, she wanted all the available support she could receive.
"Hang on, Orion. We are coming to get you."
Something pulled at Orion's face, something wet and disgusting.
Pushing the offending, whatever it was, away, he reeled back and opened his eyes to the ever-present gloom in his cell. At least there was a bug light.
Blinking, he peered at the slimy attacker.
Aspen's face was pushed back in a comical way. Her tongue lolling between his fingers, an obvious happy dog grin on her idiotic face.
"Goddamnit. How in the hell did you get in here this time?" He moaned, already tired of her nonsense.
"Come hole in floor!" She happily replied, all the while trying to get around his hands to slobber his face some more.
"Hole in the floor? What hole in…" The black pony's eyes widened in alarm and horror. "Are you talking about my bathroom hole?!"
Her tail picked up speed, and now he could smell it on her. Old piss and shit battling it out for top billing on the worst smell in the universe at that moment.
Orion had news for them. Their powers combined, they smelled apocalyptic. One of the other Diamond Dogs had used it not long before he had crashed out after a far more composed Tilly had brought him back from their little walkabout.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" He screeched, shoving her across the small cell in a manic fit of strength.
For his efforts, he got a hurt look from the canine as she curled in on herself. Now he felt guilty.
"How does someone so big manage to look so tiny?" He pushed the thought away with a shake of his head and fixed her with a glare fighting back the shamed feeling.
This had not been her first daring break-in. Oh no, it was not. She had a brief visit when Barney had gotten done interrogating him. The hulking beast quite literally bowled the short leader and the two guards over in her pursuit of cleaning him. It had been why the runt of a leader had ultimately decided to release him from all but one binding.
The way he had figured it, Orion wasn't going to get very far with Aspen tailing him.
So the black colt just sat there, fuming, being groomed with tongue and rough paws as the guards laughed and removed the stone restraints. Utter humiliation painted on his face as he endured a slimy bath for the amusement of others was not what he would call a fun time.
The second time had been after the other Baker sibling had escorted him back to his cell.
The brawn-for-everything mutt had tackled him from the corner of the room. In her hands was what might have been a squirrel. The carcass was drier than the Sahara and still had its patchy coarse fur.
Aspen had noticed that he wasn't eating and had wanted to remedy that. He didn't mean to be ungrateful, but the smell of rot from the sun-dried animal had been too much for him, and he doubled over to hurl.
Another sign of pony constitution, as far as any to witness figured it, he was sure.
Fortunately, he hadn't been eating much lately, so he left very little in his makeshift bathroom hole.
Now, now this was happening.
"Aspen, that is gross." He thought for a second, realizing she might not know what gross meant. "Not good." Both his English and Equish class teachers would have beaten him for his butchering of sentences. But he wanted to get his point across in a way she would hopefully understand. "It filthy. You need to wash up. Now."
Blinking slowly at him from under her tail. "Fil-thy?"
"Yes. Smell bad. Look bad. Not good. Go get clean." If this went on for too long, he was going to end up sounding like a caveman. Or was that cavepony?
"You won't mad if clean?"
"Yes. Get clean. Please."
What he expected was for her to leave his little hole in the ground and go somewhere to bathe and freshen up. Or whatever they did to not look like they rolled in the mud.
What he got was the canine fully sitting down in front of him, stripped to the fur, then spread eagle as she began licking herself.
"Huh, so that's what it looks like on one of them…Wait! No! Focus!"
"Aspen." She briefly looked up at him, head cocked and tongue poked tentatively past her teeth. "Go. Do that away." He pulled a face, sticking his own tongue out, this time in plain disgust as he gestured violently for her to leave.
Aspen didn't argue other than give a rueful snort as she gathered her garments, and left with a smile on her face, her tongue still poking past her teeth.
"What a fuckin' weirdo." He muttered, looking around, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell wafting from a now far larger hole than what had originally been provided, and carefully chose a spot well away from it to sit down again.
He never made it there.
Orion paused at a sudden realization. On every other incursion, the white shaggy dog had eventually been intercepted by either Barney or Tilly and the guards they had posted.
Diverting course, he placed himself at the mouth of the tunnel in which the big white furry disaster had used to exit.
He should have seen Rascal and Winston. That had been the name he had chosen for the sleepy Bulldog-looking mutt. There was no one there, nor was there the sound of heavy breathing indicating one of them was asleep.
The black pony crept forward slowly.
"I swear to Christ, if you fuckers are just waiting to jump me for a laugh, I am gonna neuter you all," Orion said suddenly, quite loudly.
Getting to the entrance to his cell, he discovered not even a hair of either mutt was in evidence. Even their crude weapons were gone.
"Alien invasion?" He snarkily thought.
Shaking his head at the improbable, if not impossible, thought, he picked a direction he remembered Tilly guiding him down and proceeded to slowly stalk into the tunnels. Pausing a few feet in to the darkness between a pair of bug lights to listen for any indication his jailers were returning.
Hearing nothing, he moved on into the darkness.
Tilly found him. What he could only guess was roughly a half hour after he made his daring escape.
He had gotten lost, turned around twice, and he was positive he had seen that particular scone full of oversized fireflies at least three times now. They had an unusually brighter pulse than the others.
"How did you get out of your cell?!" Came her shout.
Orion was so startled that he jumped and smacked his skull against the earthen roof.
"The fuck!" He clamped a hand on his head. "Could have given me a warning cough or something!"
She just glared at him as he scowled back till he realized she had asked a question.
"Oh, uh, Rascal and Winston weren't on guard. For that matter, no one was even there, to begin with. And rather than let Aspen find me again, I decided a little walk would do me some good."
He tactfully decided to omit the part where he had tried finding his own way out. An idea that he had to admit was a dumb one.
"I'm sure." She muttered, then cocked her head. "Aspen bothering you again?"
"Uh, yeah. Came up through my..a...toilet…"
"Oh…" Tilly tried to hide the giggles that he could clearly see bubbling up in her throat. If anyone could do with a laugh, it was her, so he pushed it.
"The worst part, she tried to give me a tongue bath while still covered in the stuff."
The stifled giggles turned to outright laughter as she howled and thumped her little thigh.
"SHE DID NOT!" The littlest canine that could screamed.
"She did, and she got some all over me." He deadpanned at her, keeping up his mock dismay. "Actually, now that I think about it, where the fuck can I clean this muck off?"
"That…hehe….that explains the smell I picked up!" She snorted.
"Yeah, yeah." The colt moaned. "Can you please tell me where I might get at least a wash rag?"
"How about…your tongue!" Tilly doubled over.
Orion was really beginning to reconsider hitting her over the head when she finally pulled herself together.
"I am sorry. But I haven't had a good laugh in a long, long time." She chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I am so happy to provide that to you. Now. Anything?"
"Unfortunately for you, no. We don't really even have water for you to use. But that is not important." She shook herself, the firm expression from before reappearing on her face. "There is trouble."
He groaned. There could only be two reasons. Either Barney had enough of his presence in his den, or Screaming had finally made her move.
"Three guesses as to what it is, and the first two don't count." Running a hand across his face, he sighed heavily.
"Alright. Where are we heading?" At this point, what was there to argue? He had been worried that his friend was doing something rash when Tilly had told him about their missing hunting party.
True, it was likely Eberhard's or one of the other soldier's idea, but they wouldn't move without her okay either way.
The short canine merely nodded, and headed off down the passage in the direction he had been heading surprisingly. Had he been right in his guesswork? He followed after her.
"I'm not sure how you got this far over, but we will have to take the long way around. The tunnels behind are too packed with others, and we won't make it through without some effort." She darted around the bend, forcing him to sprint after her in a shortened gait so as not to smack his already bruised skull.
His mind, however, was flooded with what-ifs and concerns about what he could do.
"Okay, what the hell is this place?"
It had only been ten minutes since Tilly had found him, stinking up the tunnels with Aspen's unpleasant present and not knowing where to go. Yet he was just as lost as before.
They had journeyed down a winding path of twisted corridors and opened ended cave systems that the bug lights could not reach the other before.
"This…" she hesitantly began, "is the last place we tried to explore for gems before giving up…this is the…I…"
His question had pulled the little canine short as if she had become glued to the spot just before the next tunnel. Before she had been charging through, her shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow of some sort.
Now she seemed to slump even further on herself, making her spine even more noticeable. Her eyes not looking at him or the cave, just staring at the ground.
"Don't look out." She said quietly. "It…it may see you. And keep your voice down."
Orion blinked in shock. Tilly Barker was crying. He could see tears drip to the ground in front of her. The trembles, however, were of terror, not sadness.
She said not to, but he couldn't help it. He glanced about slowly, using his periphery to look. The path here looked old, way older than the other parts of the den, as if disused. There were stalactites evenly hung from the tunnels in very tiny groupings. It was damp, almost humid, which was unusual given the dry cool air he had experienced everywhere else inside the Diamond Dog home.
Out in the darkness, he couldn't see anything. But, there was a noise that he hadn't noticed before, hadn't been listening for. Heavy, slow whooshing.
"Tilly…" Swallowing hard, he pitched his voice lower. "What's down here? Why…did you bring us this way?" Running his tongue over dry cracked lips, he got a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I…I wasn't thinking…I…" He realized she could not, or at least would not, move. Slowly he reached out and pushed her. Gentle at first, but as each heavy whoosh reached them, he increased the pressure. He wasn't certain, but it sounded like breathing, and was getting closer.
Step, by agonizingly ponderous step, they made the short distance to the next tunnel. Each time his hoof made connection with the cavern floor, he winced at the all-too-loud echo it would produce.
They did not stop once they reached the hole in the cave wall. Orion would not let them as he continued to force the mutt deeper and deeper into the gloom.
"What. Was. That?" His fear had kept his voice barely above a whisper, and only by will alone did he not chatter out his question. "The fuck was that?!" The colt hissed.
Tilly had sagged against the wall, her hand over her heart as her breathing came in ragged gasps.
Just like his own.
Sliding down the opposite wall, he collapsed, trying to steady his mind.
"Just what in the hell was that?"
The only sound to be heard was faint drips of another mushroom chamber behind him.
"We call it a Burrow Eater." Her voice was surprisingly steady, considering what had just happened. Though, when he looked up, it seemed the Diamond Dog had aged with the encounter. "You ponies, and the griffons, call it a Basilisk."
Orion's throat seized in spasming panic.
Basilisk. Not much was actually known about the enigmatic creatures. Many attempts to find and study them had either led to a failure to discover or, worse, failure for the researchers to return at all.
What was known is that they were legless lizards, judging by what marks they could find, that inhabited tunnels and caves. Rumors said they can inflict a paralysis effect on victims with a gaze, and their breath was toxic to the flesh. Like an acid that worked to poison and digest their prey.
"A-re…yo-u s-s-s-su-re?" He stuttered out, fighting to get his body back under control. He was not entirely sure he hadn't just pissed himself.
"Ye…yes…"
"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IDIOTS STILL HERE?!" He whisper shouted at the still trembling canine. The idea of even living at a known distance from one of those things was insane at best.
The stories of last year's mythology teacher, Mrs. Galvanized Thought, had actually terrified him. Stories of half-devoured corpses in uncomfortable details had given him nightmares that lasted weeks. Worse yet, it was always accompanied by the feeling of being watched. What was worse is the creature was known to exist but fell under mythology because of its elusive nature and what could be gleaned from the aftermath of attacks.
Another thought struck him.
"Wait. Why the hell did you bring us down this way?"
"I didn't realize just where we were when we started. I wanted to avoid…our…" She faltered, swallowed, and began again. "Our crypt tunnels." He blinked at her, and she turned her head. "Too many small graves." Came her quiet reply to his unasked question.
"Oh…" Silence returned as his ears listened for any notion of pursuit. Hearing nothing, he asked his earlier question again. "Why are you all still here?"
"Believe me. W-we would have left long ago if we could. But we are too few to move our normal way and too weak to make the attempt worthwhile. We are barely holding on as it is. You are not the only one to spit out our mushrooms."
It was true. He had tried to eat the rancid things but just couldn't. They tasted like rotten shoe leather mixed with garlic, too much garlic.
His mind reeled at all the new information he had gotten over the past few hours.
"These poor bastards…they are effectively trapped here."
"How come it hasn't just killed you all by now?" He asked, now curious about the sudden thought of it just lingering in the area.
"We are not certain. It seems to hate the soil and stone we have dug our homes into." She brushed a hand against the walls and came away with some type of dust. "This red and purple dust seems to upset it for some reason."
"Red and purple dust?" Orion reached out a hand of his own against the wall and rubbed it between his fingers when he pulled back. "Tilly, this is Iron dust." He gasped in surprise. Turning around, he took a closer look.
The entire wall on his side shimmered in the light of bug butts. He could not fathom how he had not noticed it before.
"Tilly?"
"Yes?" She asked timidly, seeming bothered by his change in demeanor.
"Is your whole Den like this?" He asked. His voice breathless.
"Yes, it is. We found chunks of iron everywhere we dug. Why?"
His heart rate picked up.
"And you all can just…plow through it like it's nothing?"
"Well, yes. Anything that is stone and earth we can dig through." He could see her now. She had come up next to him, a worried expression on her face. "Why?"
"Another question, if you would permit it." An idea was beginning to form in his mind. "I have read you have super sensitive noses that you can pick up on the faintest trails."
"Some of us can do it far better than others. My brother happens to be one of those. Again, why?"
"Sorry, that answer gave rise to one more question. Can you smell iron itself?"
She paused, thinking.
"I…I can tell the difference if that is what you are asking. Yes, I can smell iron, and as I said, I do not have my brother's gift. Now please, answer me. Why?"
"Because my little reluctant ponynapper," a grin blossoming on his face. "I think I may have just figured out a way to save your pack, after all."
Fighting through the mob of Dogs blocking the exit had not been as terrible as he or Tilly had feared.
That was due in large part to the absolutely nasty odorant he was currently rocking. As his guide pushed past the quickly dispersing crowd of mutts, he had made the comment that they hadn't really needed to go the long way around at all.
She gave no reply. Only growled in anger.
Now they stood just inside the entrance, and to Orion's eyes, the world outside was a blinding movie-grade studio floodlight.
A tug at his shirt prompted him to look down, just barely seeing a very impatient Tilly trying to get him moving.
With a groan, he noted with wry amusement that he was doing that too often, he shielded his eyes and stepped into the light to the angered shouts of griffons and Diamond Dogs.
Blinking rapidly, he began to tell shapes and people apart. "God damn, Celestia, if you do control the sun, could ya turn the gamma down? Please?!
Stumbling forward, his visage cleared enough for him to finally see what was going on, and he groaned in response.
Opposite each other were two groups of very angry people. On one side, with their backs facing him, were the mutts. Across from them, with Screaming leading, were armored-up griffons, brandishing weapons ready to brawl.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me…" He moaned out.
Sadly, his sudden appearance behind the Dogs had not gone unnoticed. Eberhard, standing off to the right of Orion's friend and surprisingly not in armor or a weapon of his own in hand, eyes lit up, and he shouted something at Grace.
Their eyes locked, and in the brief moments, they were, he could see all the pain, relief, anxiety, and rage in hers.
He was sure that all she saw was tired annoyance in his.
She looked away, and shouted something he couldn't understand in the din of noise coming from both sides.
Suddenly, the small force of mutts parted, and there at the end was Barney. He was decked out in an old helmet that likely hadn't seen a fight since the unification wars. About his person were metal disks that looked more like they belonged in a scrap yard.
Oh boy, he was angry.
"HOW DA FUCK DID YA GET OUT OF YOUR CELL!?" He roared into the sudden silence.
"Jesus Christ, he has a pair of lungs on him." It sounded like he was standing in front of him rather than being almost a hundred yards away.
Instead of having a chance to answer and reminding the idiot of the fact that they never installed a door, Tilly stepped forward and shouted back, though less loudly.
"Brother, he was already wandering the tunnels, Buddy and Guy were nowhere to be found when I checked on him!" She took a deep breath. "Besides, this is stupid! All they want is him! Let's just give him back!"
Orion blinked and looked down at his little guide to the surface world. "Buddy? Guy? Heh, if there is even a chance of a Friend or Pal living in this den or anywhere in the world, there's a South Park joke in there."
His humor was short-lived.
Barney turned, enraged, to a Dog the colt was very familiar with.
"I told you to leave 'em on da damn door guard!" He shouted into Balo's face. The diminutive leader's gaze swung and inevitably found his targets. "Why da fuck are ya up here!?"
The right-hand dog spoke up first. "You said, need strong Dogs. Them strong dogs. Need for fight." He shrugged his shoulders. "Pony asleep. Not knowing he wake soon."
"RAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Was Barney's totally useful response.
"Barney Barker. Return Orion Falls at once." Came a booming command that almost sounded alien considering its source.
Scream had stepped forward, and for the first time in two days, Orion got a good look at his friend, and his mouth fell open in surprise.
In just a couple of days' time, she had changed. Drastically. The slump in her shoulders that he hadn't noticed before now was gone, her head held high, arms thrown back. Instead of the dresses and sometimes fancy pants and blouses, she wore steel mail that gleamed in the morning sun.
Steel-shod boots covered her paws, and upon her shoulders were topped with pauldrons in silver and steel. Belted to her was a tabard bearing her family's crest.
But to him, the greatest change was her face. He had only caught glimpses of the hardened, disapproving glare when he said something dumb or not to her liking. But this was leagues beyond stone. Only the hint of fear and worry remained in her eyes.
"Jesus Christ! This in just two days of me being kidnapped?"
It was such a jarring change that Orion hadn't noticed when Barney had started barking orders again, and the black colt suddenly found himself very pressed. Pressed in the way the blade at his throat threatened to saw through his neck.
"When did they knock me to the ground!?"
"Alrighty, you cluckal-fucks, here's da deal. You give us back our Dogs, and I don't send ya his head back. Sounds fair, eh?"
If there was one thing Orion was going to do before this was all over, he was going to beat the ever-living shit out of Barney.
Author's Note
Woo! Bigger chapter than the last few. I had a blast writing this one.
I am sure some of you noticed my blog post. Well, I got exciting news for you all. The book cover for Blurring Realities is currently beginning. I cannot tell you how excited I am for the final result, and finally getting it done.
You see, a donation made by a very generous reader has sat unclaimed for months because I did not have the money to match the gift. Now, with my taxes filed, I can finally get the ball rolling. Final details are being hashed out. But I suspect within the month I will have something lovely to show you all!
Again, thank you for your patience, and enjoy the chapter!
As always, leave a comment with theories and conspiracies. Anything from aliens to inside tower jobs will be accepted.
Have a great week!
Peace!
Bloodstained Floor
"She will see you now."
The expected announcement pulled a small sigh of relief from Twilight, and she had been waiting for over an hour in a rather cramped chair.
"Finally."
Her former foalsitter was surprisingly busy these days, but then again, her role as a princess was much larger than her old duties of watching over a little purple filly who struggled to learn to walk.
She nodded to the secretary, a stallion named Pencil Grinder, and stepped up to the door. A pair of mares in the familiar pinks and yellows of Princess MI Amore Cadenza's personal guard pulled the door open with soft smiles for her.
The Princess of Love's armed forces were known to be especially kind, to foals most of all. It was well known that Twilight Sparkle's relationship with the Alicorn was one more of an older sister to a younger one, and her treatment by the royal had long begun to bleed over to her troops. They were not shy about their own affections.
The purple filly blushed at the gentle reminder of that special consideration. It was embarrassing whenever she encountered a troop of her near sisters, as the moment they spotted her, they would descend on the hapless pony to dote and give advice to, like a pack of timberwolves. Sweet timberwolves, but ones she could not hope to dissuade or avoid.
Stepping into Cadence's private study, she noted no real change since her last visit.
Like most rooms in the palace, the Princess of Love's rooms were white, lined with gilded columns that curved with the chambers in big circles, and possessed many windows. The only difference was the color of the tapestries and the choice of plants.
Heart Blossoms of all colors exploded around her; they hung from the ceiling, the banisters that led to a small library above them and even covered the front of the mare's desk.
Their floral scent spilled into her nose like a tide, bringing an old and familiar comfort from easier days when all she had to worry about was what book she would next dive into.
There was a picture frame nestled in amongst the floral array; however, it was laid down almost buried under them.
Still, mystery picture aside, the familiar sights and smells pulled a heavy sigh from the purple pony.
"Twilight, I would think a mare of your age would not have so world-weary of a sigh just yet." Came the sultry rich voice of her oldest confident.
Turning with a start, she noticed the Princess she had come to see sitting on the veranda to the left of the entrance. The wide-open balcony displayed a stunning view of the city below in the midday sun.
Cadence smiled ruefully, no doubt noting her startlement, and rose to greet her. The smile broadened into a grin as she assumed a very familiar stance that Twilight could not help but mimic with a giggle bubbling in her throat.
The Alicorn insisted they do this every time they met up. But luckily for her, it was only done in private, so far.
"Sunshine sunshine, ladybugs awake, clap your hands and do a little shake!"
The pair descended into a fit of laughter together as they performed the otherwise awkward song and dance, their secret little handshake.
"C-candy." She struggled to say the old nickname that had stuck during her early years when she had been unable to say the mare's full name properly. "When…hehe…when are we going to give up that silly little game?"
The Princess of Love giggled back. "Never! You shall be old and gray, and I'll still pull you from the wheelchair they stick you in. It's our sacred pact!"
That brought on another round of tittering between the two.
"Come, sit. It has been too long since I've seen you last." Excitedly, her old foalsitter gestured excitedly to the other chair across from where she had been sitting. Tea had been prepared and was waiting on a silver tray on the table between them.
A basket covered by a cloth that could not stop the smell of fruit pastries sat next to that tempting her to take one immediately. She had not eaten since early this morning, so the smells were affecting her ability to concentrate, if only a little.
"Y-yes." Twilight stuttered and then mentally chastised herself for it as she blushed furiously.
Despite the years of knowing the mare, the filly could still find herself on the off-hoof with her. She felt like she did not belong in the same room with a pony like her, much less in the same building.
It had always been like that despite their closeness; just the reasons for the self-consciousness changed.
Before, it had just been simple nervousness when dealing with anypony not in her family.
However, as she got older, it was the realization of just how gorgeous the Alicorn before her actually is began to affect her in other ways.
Princess MI Amore Cadenza was beyond what most ponies would call beautiful. Better or worse, as some may say in whispered groups, it was a natural beauty that seemed to be untouched by time or age.
Given that she was near, or even over, a thousand years old was a testament to her agelessness.
There was, of course, Princess Celestia. And she, too, was another example of ageless beauty, but for whatever reason, Cadence still came out ahead in most ponies' eyes, and the purple filly couldn't help but agree. Though she felt a traitor for those thoughts in some way.
"Twilight, you're staring again." She paused, then smiled. "You are thinking again." The mare before her gently chided. Another flush stained her cheeks and ears.
It was a talent, one often underlooked by others. Mi Amore Cadenza was capable of telling the emotional state and even predicting what one might be thinking from a glance alone.
The prediction ability was trained one of years of experience, but Cadence could see what she described as an emotional spectrum. A kaleidoscope of colors that only she could see and interpret.
From there, the Alicorn had learned over centuries of trial and error how to interpret the spectrum of an individual pony. Thus, predicting what they were thinking.
Like she was doing now, they both knew that Twilight was focusing on the difference between them and not just that one possessed the qualities of all three tribes.
"Sorry."
She felt small, small, and unattractive, and the issue with Orion made it all the worse, knowing there were others out there that may come close to her old foalsitter and surpass her.
"Hehe, still doing it."
Another blush renewed the fading color in her ears.
"Twilight," she began, "I can safely assume you are here for advice. Advice about a certain black colt who is currently on a little adventure to our neighbors to the north."
"Yes. I…I don't know what to do." It wasn't a question of how the pony embodiment of love knew of her issue. In fact, it brought a small amount of comfort, knowing that she didn't have to explain everything to her.
Cadence giggled. "Of course, you don't. Otherwise, you would not have come to me in the first place."
"I wanted to see you earlier!" Twilight protested. "I just…I had-"
"Twilight, it's okay. I understand. More than what your aura is telling me." Leaning forward, she braced her elbows against the table and put her chin into her hands. "Life gets in the way, and we all become distracted by our own lives. Our own duties. I am no different. Otherwise, I would have long sought you out myself."
She nodded; her old foalsitter was right, and while she did still feel some shame at coming to her only when she had a need, it was abated somewhat.
"So, ask your question, Twily."
"Do I love Orion?"
"I do not know, do you?" The mare before her replied with a cheeky grin.
"Candy, please?"
Sighing, the Princess of Love leaned back and frowned.
"Twilight, this isn't something I can just tell you. One lesson I have learned over the years, when dealing with matters of the heart is not to tell somepony whether they are in love or not. It places a certain level of expectation upon themselves and on the object, or persons, of their affection. That an unhealthy way to approach love, and life in general. The idea is to explore our hearts and grow from there. Not have everything spelled out for us. There is no adventure in that and it can get quite dull." She smiled gently. "Now, do you love him? Try and think about how he makes you feel when you are with him."
Sitting back, the sole Alicorn in the room lifted the cloth from the basket and snagged a raspberry pastry from the collection of goods and, popped it into her mouth with a pleased smile, then raised an already-filled tea cup to drink while she watched on as her not-baby sister dwelled on the question set before her.
For herself, Twilight thought furiously, brow furrowing in concentration. She did as instructed and thought back to the moments when they were together, alone in shared study or in mutual inquiry.
Orion thought a lot like her and was interested in learning, like her. There was a companionship between them that she did not have with her filly friends in school. Nopony could make her feel like she was on top of the world when she learned something new, quite like him.
On the other hand, no one could bring her down as easily as he could. The disparaging remarks about certain interests she held, and his lack of desire to simply meet up when asked, those truly did hurt.
However, she knew his deepest secret, and while he had used their friendship as a cudgel to keep her silent, he only did so out of desperation for his situation.
It was likely the reason he kept his distance and only came to her when she either really begged, or he had exhausted all other avenues available to him.
In those moments, he genuinely seemed remorseful about it all.
He never demanded anything of her. He never wanted more out of her than just herself. It was freeing in a way to realize that.
Was there love? A little. Maybe not the love of romances in those books she avoided at all costs but could not help to overhear from classmates, but true affection was there.
So what kind of love did that make it?
"He's…my best friend…" She whispered. "Despite everything, he makes me laugh, and his words hurt the most when he is at his most cynical. Yet, I could not imagine my life without him. And I love him. Not…not like I'm head over hooves for him, but…."
"Like he is the one pony you can share everything with and possibly get judged for but still be accepted?" Cadence said with a knowing smile. "Yes, Twilight. There are loves like that in the world. Though, it is difficult to form those with the opposite sex in normal circumstances. Still, that does not mean you can not love your best friend."
"Even if he is sometimes an insensitive…prick?" Twilight said with a sheepish smile of her own.
The Love Alicorn's eyes shot open wide in surprise.
"Twily! Where in Tartarus did you hear that!?" She shouted in mock outrage.
"From an insensitive pony, you might have heard of him." She giggled back, inwardly happy to harness Orion's natural snarkiness for a bit.
"Oh, my poor foal! Gone are the days of your innocence! Stolen away by that evil little colt!"
Twilight knew what was coming because Cadence had risen from her chair, a grin stretching her face. Hunched over with her large wings flared out, she took a familiar stance. No matter her age, Candy would be Candy.
"I must save you!" Cried the Princess of Love. Diving forward to scoop her up to the laughter of both as the mare's wings came into play to tickle her through her dress.
"S-s-stop it! Candy, please!?" The filly cried out, doing her best to fend her off with waving hands.
"No! I must cure you of this vile tongue!" She turned her head, never stopping her feathery assault. "Guards! Fetch the Royal Soap!"
Over her own shrieks of laughter, she could hear the muffled howls of amusement from the other sides of the door.
Twilight was certain that this would be added to whatever torments they visited on her in future encounters. Of that she was sure.
The moment the double doors to her private study shut behind the little filly, the smile that curved her lips during her visit fell away with a heavy sigh of her own that mimicked her near-sister's earlier exhalation. There were so few moments for her to enjoy truly, and she hated another ending so soon.
Most of all, she missed her little Twily.
True, the filly had, at one point, been a means to an end for her. A fact that still left a heavy amount of shame within her and created a rift between her and Celestia for some time after she had acted upon it. After all, it had been her suggestion to use a foal to grow closer to the stallion, who at the time was still going through military school.
However, the moments shared with that burgeoning mare were some of the greatest she had been treated to in over millennia.
Her innocence, coupled with her insatiable need for knowledge, did not make her a burden but a joy. The inquisitive purple pony was always picking up a new interest, a new path of knowledge.
Cadence touched her stomach softly, the gentle smile making a return. It was such a joy that she hoped to one day have her own. Maybe even have Twilight foalsit for her instead. That would be a treat.
"It is very rare for a stallion not of higher power to create life within one like us, Cadence."
Those had been Celestia's cutting words. Words spoken long ago and meant to dissuade her from seeking a family for herself like the High Princess herself, she was certain.
But it had the opposite effect. The Love Princess had chosen instead to seek out the correct stallion that would not only compliment her but provide for the life she so desperately sought to create.
There were, unfortunately, many misses and accidents, however.
The average pony would be surprised at how magic directed at the pursuit of love could become so dark. While the cost was never too steep, the hidden scars on her body reminded her of those painful mistakes. Worse, that path ended up being pointless in the end, for it did not seek out what she most wanted.
Cadence had stumbled upon Shining Armor quite by accident. In fact, after so many bitter failures, she hadn't bothered even to try this century, resolving to simply take a break from her pursuit and focus on more worthwhile endeavors at the time.
However, there he was during a routine troop inspection of the Celestial Military Academy. Fidgeting in place in the third row. He was sweating profusely under the hot sun, despite both the white uniform and his own whiter fur. He was nervous, she discovered later that it was his first week, and he had no clue what to do in formation or how to regard one in a station above such as hers.
He was a trembling, sweat foamed, covered mess, and he was beautiful. In the Alicorn’s eyes, she saw the cascade of colors that surrounded him and realized with clarity that they were a complete match.
It had been such a shock to suddenly find him there, that she had just stopped dead in her tracks and simply stared at him.
Fortunately for her, the commander with her that day, Commander Hard Stone, noticed and assumed it was because of Shining's state of being. Unfortunately for the poor stallion, he was subjected to three weeks of latrine duty on top of extra exercise routines.
After their initial encounter, learning who he was and his family had been simple. What wasn't so simple was trying to figure out how to approach them.
Cadence very much doubted that walking up to him and stating in specific terms her intent to court him would go over well. Two possible outcomes had immediately come to mind.
The first and likely worst outcome would be him being too terrified to respond and marking him a target to other more powerful rivals who sought her affections.
The second, and nearly as terrible, would be that he would have become an insufferable lout with far too big of an ego. The Alicorn could live with that, as she would end up getting what she wanted out of him anyway, but having to put up with it for up to a hundred or more years would undoubtedly be taxing.
Not to mention how that might influence their offspring.
Her worry over it had become a distraction in her duties, and that was when Celestia offered her advice. Advice, that while rather clever, more than showcased the older monarch's inner deviousness.
"The family had a foal recently, did they not? Why not simply pose as a normal unicorn mare and offer to foalsit? You must make it look legitimate, though." She had paused for a moment, a slim finger rising. "Pass out cards. Both in their neighborhood and the surrounding ones Should anypony other than them ask, you can merely claim that you are all too busy with other families who got ahead of them."
At the time, Cadence had not really dwelled on the fact that the Princess of the Sun knew far too much about Shining and his family. She was far too distracted by his discovery and her own desires to dwell on how excited the High Princess had become when she finally broke down and told her what was bothering her.
If she had been more perceptive and not so eager to seal her claim on Shining Armor, perhaps Twilight would never have gotten so entangled in Celestia's web.
Sighing, she turned to her desk; rather than the tea and pastries she had prepared for her almost-sister's visit, those were mostly gone as it was, and the leftover banana ones were neither of their favorites.
Sitting, she leafed through documents that had been brought to her by one of many royal clerks.
Her first encounter with Shining, in a clever disguise designed to hide much of who and what she was, had gone amazingly well. However, he did comment on the feeling that he had met her before. Centuries of political intrigue had helped redirect the subject in a way he would not realize was a deflection.
That fateful first meeting in the kitchen and himself back from the eleven months of the required initial military officers' training had been wonderful.
He was exhausted, which made the more reserved stallion more open and honest. That evening she had learned a great deal about him. His earnest desire to help others with his talent. The way he tried to hide his interests in Ogres and Oubliettes was absolutely adorable, too.
"Okay, he may have more than an interest." She chuckled at her own memories.
Every little detail she sussed out under the guise of a pretty mare interested in a military stallion pushed her to higher highs. Not only had she found her destined pony, but he was an absolute sweetheart.
Shining's love for his sister is what really opened her eyes to what she was doing, though.
Wanting to check in on the sleeping foal, he tip-hoofed to her room, Cadence right behind him.
Opening the door slowly, he peeked in, and she could see his smile in the semi-darkness grow wider. The tired eyes she had kept up far too late with her inquiries reigniting when he saw his little sister laying in her crib.
It didn't take long for the pair to settle around the little bed and for him to reach over and pet her mane.
Twilight, not yet old enough to form true sentences, smiled in her sleep and murmured her brother's name in almost a whisper, her nose flaring to take in his scent.
It struck the disguised Alicorn then that what she had done was wrong. Seeing the colors of love and affection between the two had brought into stark reality what she was doing. Manipulating the love of a family to get what she wanted, and it broke her to her core.
Shortly after they left the room of the little filly, she bid him goodnight and left the home in a rush to return to her own rooms. Where she cursed and wept in equal bouts of self loathing.
Celestia, of course, learned of her behavior far too quickly and had appeared in her chambers directly. Which was a breach of normal decorum in the castle, however, neither cared.
Cadence raged at her then. Spewing forth her hatred of what the mare had convinced her to do, to manipulate the hearts of others. It was a thing she had vowed to herself never to do, and once the opportunity had arisen, she did it anyway.
"Cadence, do not direct your anger at me. I have told you time and time again that in order to get the best outcome, one must bend others in order to get the desired results. The right results." She tsked in annoyance. "A lesson I feared you would only learn once everything had fallen apart in one of your goals. If anything, we are fortunate that it happened now in this manner."
"How can you say that!?" She had cried into the cool features of her mentor.
"I can say such things because I have watched too many kingdoms and ponies fall to unattainable ideals. Unable to bend and adapt to the realities of life." There had been a hint of despair in her tone. Bitterness too.
"There…there has to be a better way…." Cadence found herself moaning and falling to her knees in front of the High Princess.
"My dear, sweet Cadence." She knelt with her, wrapping her massive white wings about her. "If there is, it will be far smarter ponies than I who will discover it. For I have already failed in that task."
The Alicorn of Love could only weep into the wings of the pony that, at that moment, she hated most of all.
Eventually, that hatred turned to understanding in the coming years. Though resentment still remains to this day.
During that time, Cadence slowly worked Shining over till she felt it was the right time to confess everything. To come clean with her lies to him.
Never had she imagined that the young stallion would be the one to take the lead.
He kissed her on the balcony just after the pair had helped each other put Twilight to bed. He kissed her and confessed to feelings she had known were there but never thought he would act on first.
When he was done, she explained everything. The revelation of who she truly was more than a little stunned him. Yet, he listened intently to her explanation of the deception and why.
To her surprise, Shining asked her to leave. For the first time, she couldn't see the colors of his emotions. It was as if the stallion had somehow figured out how to shield his heart from her. It terrified her, and while she tried to plead with him to let her remain, he remained steadfast with pained tears in her eyes.
For weeks afterward, there was no contact. No messages. When she visited Twilight to sit for her parents, he was not there.
Reaching into the drawer on the left-hand side of her desk, she pulled out a well-worn letter. One she had shed tears upon that first day it arrived on her desk.
"Dear Princess MI Amore Cadenza,
"I am not good at writing much more than a standard field report. I am not very good at most things beyond my talent and what you referred to as my “singular drive”.
"When you told me who, and more importantly what, you are. I will confess I panicked. Learning that the sweet unicorn mare I had come to adore and cherish was actually the Alicorn of Love overwhelmed me.
"I was a coward. I thought I was being brave for confessing my feelings; when you have been hiding your nature for fear I would treat you differently.
"I have hurt you, and for that, I am sorry. However, i was hurt too. I no longer knew who the mare before me was, and that was when my cowardice consumed me. I want this, I feel that despite the shadowed truths, you wer being genuine in your love for me. But if this relationship is to continue, there cannot be any more lies between us. I understand that your position means you cannot tell me everything. That might jeopardize something important. You can simply tell me you cannot talk about it. Believe me, I will understand.
"I love you, Cadence.
"Yours, Shining Armor."
He later admitted that not only was the letter the twenty-eighth version she had received, but his own mother, Twilight Velvet, ended up sending it for him.
They kept the truth from Twilight for another few years and even upon revealing herself to the filly, kept it in the home only.
She sighed wistfully at the pleasant memories before stowing the letter back in its home inside the drawer and picking up the first of the afternoon's reports.
Her eyes twitched, a sour frown forming on her lips.
Minos was on the move for the first time in her extended memory. Politically at least.
Emissaries from the isolated kingdom had suddenly cropped up in a dozen realms, both large and small. How they arrived without being detected beforehand was even more disturbing but far from the most bothersome news.
That being that of the pony nations currently in good standing with Equestria, only two were reported to have been approached.
Marussia and Saddle Arabia. It was not merely a coincidence that the pair were selected either.
Of all of Celestia's machinations, unifying all the pony lands had to be the largest and most convoluted of her plots. It had to be, or the populace of those nations would realize that the Sun Princess ruled far more than just Equestria itself and may express dissatisfaction learning that fact.
While beloved in Equestria, she was not seen favorably in many others.
However, Marussia and Saddle Arabia were the only two to resist the High Princess's manipulations outright.
In the case of Marussia, there wasn't one ruler but ten, each with their own fiefs and business in their control. Nearly all were corrupt beyond reason. In order for Celestia to even gain a hoof-hold in those lands would require military intervention, and she did not want to do that.
Her image was far too important to commit to war, even if such a conflict was waged under the guise of saving the innocent.
Then there was Saddle Arabia. Only one ruling family and they ruled with absolute impunity. Oddly enough, they were a patriarchal society, though the mares and stallions both seemed to hold equal sway regarding day-to-day affairs.
A single battle with them would also prove to be a disastrous attempt.
There were few unicorns, and even pegasi, among their number. However, their tactics and standing army size of roughly eight hundred thousand would prove Equestrian forces too weak to compete without unified help. Due to the manner in which Celestia ruled, she could not simply demand other nations in her grasp to send forces to her aid.
Whatever the Minotaurs were up to after so many years of political inactivity on the global stage, it did not bode well. They seemed all to aware
A new document caught her eye amongst the reports on Minos's activities.
Gnokas Bellfounder was on his way to Griffonia.
Shining was in Griffonia, hunting Orion Falls under orders from Celestia. Now she had a new fear to worry about, added to the already dangerous task the High Princess had given him.
Try as she could, she could not get her poor betrothed out of the assignment no matter how much fuss she threw, and that made her even angrier.
This hadn't been the first time one of his vacations had been cut short, or him being sent on some dangerous excursion out of the country at the Sun Princess's whim. The fact was, Cadence, despite her station as an Alicorn, had no real power in Equestria.
She had been kept purposefully out of the public limelight for centuries; thus it limited her influence in politics to an uncomfortable degree. Nobles knew of her, but other than a few parties, she rarely had any contact with them.
Celestia claimed it was for her protection, claiming her sister's demise at the hands of the Nightmare was reason enough to keep her safe and out of harm's way. The Love Princess was not convinced, but with no real military authority other than her small force of personal guards, she could not act too independently.
What she needed was a land of her own. More to the point, she wanted the land of her birth.
Dark magic of the foulest nature had robbed her of her mother and her homeland.
In the common tongue, it was known as the Crystal Empire. A wondrous place where the magic of earth ponies had shown through to create a green utopia in an otherwise snowy Tartaruscape. She was too young to remember those idyllic days long since lost. But she knew full well who was responsible.
Sombra.
The very name boiled her blood. How he had managed to steal the land on the cusp of his defeat, even Celestia knew not. What few eyewitness reports there were, spoke of the land shimmering just before it vanished off the face of Equis as if it never was.
Taking a moment to still her heart and mind, she fingered through the other reports. What she found made her smile in shocked surprise. Maybe all was not truly gone as the High Princess claimed after all.
Rocking Archive, an earth pony whose ancestors came from the stricken land of her birth, had finally sent in a report. No doubt, Celestia's agents had already gone through it, but they did not know what to look for quite like she did.
A pulse of magic, so weak as to be imperceptible, had been detected by his team. Only a pony with Crystal heritage could have felt it regardless, and she had purposefully sought out every descendant of that lost land.
The report pushed her guilt for Twilight away and her worry for Shining too. There was little time and too much to do.
"Now, how am I going to even get close to there without Celestia noticing?"
"I swear to Christ, Balo, you dig that thing any deeper, and I am going to castrate your ass with it!"
It had been twenty minutes since Barney had literally barked an order that had driven a surprisingly sneaky Balo to knock Orion to the ground and then sit on him, a knife held rather firmly to his neck.
Twenty minutes where Screaming, and the Diamond Dog leader leveled threats at one another. Meanwhile, both Eberhard and Tilly did their best to calm the situation.
From his position on the ground and in front of the cave, he couldn't hear much of what was being discussed, mostly because the other dogs were adding their cries of outrage and anger into the mix as well.
Calls for the return of kids and mates pulled at his heart like little plucks on a cord.
"This is fucking stupid! Why won't anyone let me talk?!"
He had tried and failed to get anyone's attention beyond Balo, smacking him in the back of the head and being told to shut up.
Tilly Barker was the only one that knew what his plan was. What could be between the two species, and he was stuck on the ground between the musky legs of a dog with the intelligence of a pillbox.
The more Orion focused on the situation, the angrier he got over it all. It didn't help that Grendal Plumage was here, egging the twelfth in line on with her own brand of vitriol. Her words occasionally reached his ears, and what she was saying made him want to strangle the retch.
"Pony, stop that." The knife dug in a little deeper, and he noticed for the first time that he had embraced his magic again, an obvious futile effort, but he had to do something. He could feel the nullstone vibrating around his horn once more in a hum just out of tune.
Ignoring the knife and the threat, he really focused on what was happening between him and the stone blocking him from casting. It was as if the two were vibrating somehow, at different wavelengths.
"Pony. Stop." The knife drew a little blood as it split the fur and flesh.
"Or what?" He growled back, rage flooding his mind. "You're gonna hurt me? Kill me?!" He laughed darkly as he tried to tune the raw power in his horn with the ring, playing on an earlier thought he had forgotten during his interview and Aspen’s tongue bath. "We both know Barney would have your nutsack stapled to a wall if you did. Now put up with it, you lu-"
He hadn't realized he was that close to synchronization with the nullstone; in the middle of his mocking tirade, the two frequencies merged, and a hollow boom rippled out, knocking Balo off of him in the process.
His skull felt like someone had pounded on it with a hammer. And the anger flooding his veins only made it pulse worse.
Picking himself up slowly, shaking his head as he looked around, not yet realizing he was looking for a target to vent his frustration and suffering on.
Most of the mutts were down, holding their ears, their faces a mask of pain. Those not on the ground howling in agony held their crude weapons in shaky hands.
Pointed at him.
Barney was, of course, unharmed. As was his sister, who cowered behind him. He would have really loved to have seen the little prick go tumbling, but not at the cost of his sister sharing a similar fate.
The ground around him hadn't been on fire beforehand, but now small patches of flames danced around him where the grass hadn't just been simply blasted away by the force of the raw magic he had accidentally released.
Looking up at Screaming, he could see the young nobles' astonishment in the gaping shock shared by others around her..
He took a step forward, and almost landed on his face. Stumbling, he righted himself and pulled at more mana to help steady him and found the vast pool he was used to at his proverbial fingertips.
" Oh yeah, they hadn't been able to remove my armbands…." He thought wryly, a plan forming in his head.
"ORION! COME QUICKLY!"
His long-distance pen pal must have gotten over her shock quickly, now stepping forward and calling out to him. She wasn't alone either. A chorus of voices joined with hers in a cacophony of noise that made his already-pounding head ring like a gong struck with a tree.
He took another step forward, then paused.
If Orion let them take him away, then nothing would be solved. In fact, it may make it worse. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and shook his head at them.
"No? Why the fuck is he saying no?!"
Grace was beside herself with shock. One moment she was shouting at an increasingly hostile Barney Barker over his treatment of her only remaining pony friend. The next thing she knew, she was sent stumbling back as a wave of air pressure washed over them all.
The Diamond Dogs fared far worse, and many were sent to their knees screaming in agony, from what she did not know. Those not sent flying by the explosion of air, at least.
Suddenly, Orion was up, standing amongst a field of burnt grass and small flames, and she only thought how terrifying he looked at that moment.
His mane was floating oddly; though that had settled quickly, it still held that strange glow deep within.
His teeth were barred in a snarl that reminded her of a stray dog she had found in an alley outside the palace. The beast had been out of its mind with hunger and had attacked her. The guard with her had quickly put the poor mutt down, but the image of those teeth presented in such a threatening manner stuck with her.
But his eyes are what really frightened her. The gray in them had been replaced briefly with something dark before switching back. The only word that came to mind was murder. It was frightening enough to make her breath hitch.
"Orion…w-who are you?"
At least, he still seemed to be himself, though his refusal to rush to them was confusing and off-putting. Instead, he had turned and approached Barney Barker.
The Diamond Dog leader had managed to stay on his paws, but he was clearly stricken with fear at his one-time hostage's approach.
Grendal stepped forward, past herself, and shouted at Orion.
"YES! BREAK THAT FUCKING MUTT!" Grace could only gape in astonishment at the Burgermeister of Aviary.
It had been true in the past day her rhetoric against the Dogs only seemed to increase, going so far as to call for them all to be executed, not just a few hours before this began.
The pony stopped abruptly and craned his neck to stare in absolute fury at the griffon, whose next shout seemed to have become caught short in her throat, judging by the sound emanating from her beak.
Orion glared hard and vanished in a series of explosions of dark light that brought him closer to her side of the field. Suddenly, he appeared right in front of Grendal with a loud pop and seized her by the beak.
"YOU WILL SHUT THE FUCK UP!" The black pony roared into the struggling hen's face. "YOU WILL SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW! IF I HEAR ANOTHER WORD OUT OF YOU, THEY WILL BE MASHING UP YOUR FOOD FOR YOU TO EAT FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
Whatever answer she could have given never came. Readjusting his grip, he slammed the griffon head-first into the ground with one hand. Standing back up, he leaned over her.
"Had you showed just an ounce, a sliver, of fucking compassion, this would never have happened. None of it. But don't you worry ya ugly little head, bitch, Daddy Orion is gonna make it all better. Then I am gonna stomp a hole in your skull." He hissed past clenched teeth.
Turning, he flashed a brief look of what seemed like apologetic remorse to Grace and approached Barney again.
"What by the Winds is going on?!"
"Maybe I shouldn't make good on that last bit..." It would do no good to up and murder the leader of the other faction he was eventually going to try and make see his side of things.
Perhaps, a new election would see to that issue.
Orion still felt more than a little bit pissed off. He was so mad at the situation that certain parts of him worried about breaking a tooth with how hard he was clenching them together.
He needed an outlet. A way to vent before it was too much, and he began screaming at everyone. His eyes found Barney, and he felt his lips quirk into a smile.
"He does owe me for that little beating below, right? And I think a break from all this hostility would definitely help out…."
Orion didn't bother thinking about it further. Swinging his right hoof back, he brought it forth into a kick to the diminutive mutt's testicles. Lifting him into the air to sail into a group of his still-recovering guards, knocking them all down again.
"GOD, THAT FELT FUCKING AMAZING!" He crowed.
"May want to stop shouting too."
Stopping, he cleared his throat with a cough. Already feeling the strain he had placed on the vocal cords, he proceeded to speak in a more normal yet still loud enough tone to be heard voice. Hopefully, by all.
"All right. I think this shit has gone on to the farthest reaches of stupidity it needs for one day." Glancing back toward the griffons, he called out. "Put up your weapons!" Spinning, he pointed at the few Diamond Dogs still holding onto their own. "You too, chucklefucks. Put 'em away."
Neither side moved a muscle.
Looking to Scream, he did his best "If-you-would-please" look and got a hesitant nod from the twelfth in line.
"Put up your weapons. Stand down."
"BUT YOUR LADYSHIP-"
"I SAID PUT AWAY YOUR WEAPONS!" She roared over them.
Ignoring the struggles of command behind him, he looked to Barney and had to bite back a chuckle. The poor fucker was out cold, drool falling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes crossed in a comic fashion as his hands still clutched at his bruised jewels.
"Too hard."
Looking to who he was hoping was second in command, he asked Tilly nicely.
"Tilly, nothing is going to get solved today with the spilling of each other's blood, would you..?"
Nodding curiously, though he could see a flush of anger staining her cheeks and ears, he spoke to her, no doubt pissed at what he had just done to her brother.
"Barker Den, no fighting today. Put them away." That got some grumbling, but none of them failed to listen.
Soon enough, both sides were about as disarmed as they could get, with their weapons holstered or put near to hand.
Nodding, more for himself than anything else, Orion began his scheme.
"Scream. I know you kidnapped a bunch of their people. Let them go, please, no more of this hostage nonsense. Otherwise, we will be right back to it."
She had opened her mouth a couple of times in an attempt to speak, but he had rolled over her. It was best if he cut the arguments short, as it felt like the headache was becoming worse.
"Please don't argue. Just do it." Her angered look pulled the first true grin from him in days. "Trust me. I got a plan."
Eberhard may not have had a clue as to what he was up to, but the old bird had obviously realized that whatever it was, both sides being equal was paramount.
"My Lady, I believe we should do as he says. Something tells me that this may just be worthwhile to listen to."
The much cooler tone of Lonelycall must have been a better balm than any of his smiles, as she thought only a moment.
"See to it, Master Lonelycall." Nodding, he rushed off over the hill behind them.
"Awesome. Okay, while that's going on, here's what I recommend. We take a little break. Not many might be able to tell, but I got a splitting headache that I need to get looked at. Besides, everyone here is probably still running hot. I think a chance for all of us to cool our tempers might be in order."
Tilly was a lot less put off than Screaming was. The noble griffon verbally exploded on him.
"What do you mean take a break!? They foalnapped you! Are you insane?!"
With a weary sigh, and a rub to his temples, he faced his friend.
"Scream, there is a whole mess of shit going on that you and I had no clue about. A lot of it has to do with prejudice from the villagers in Aviary. More specifically, to the fucko over there." He gestured at Grendel's prone body dismissively. "What I propose is we take a day to calm the hell down and come back fresh in the morning to negotiate.
"Negotiate? Negotiate what?!"
He grinned at her.
"You want to do what?!"
Three hours later, Orion was propped up in bed, a cold compress pressed to his head, and his horn lightly glowing to show others he was helping aid the foul concoction that he had forced himself to drink before Screaming had finally had enough of waiting on him, and stormed into his room.
Eberhard came in with more stately grace than the incensed griffon noble, shutting the door calmly behind them. Judging by his face, he had tried reining her in before this inevitable confrontation.
The black colt still remembered that wicked-looking warhammer she had been casually holding when he had first seen her. A quick once-over showed that the weapon wasn't with her.
"Oh good, she'll just beat me to death with her fists."
Raising his hands in a placating manner, he gestured for her to sit on the stool he had kept at the side of his bed.
"Scream, please don't shout. I don't think you understand just how much breaking that fucking stone hurt." He winced. "Just calm down, okay? I will explain my idea, but can we please speak in lowercase for a bit?"
Her shoulders sagged, but she did not take his offer to sit. Instead, she came beside his bed and ran her claws over his bedding, and the bandages wrapped around him.
"Okay, I'm…I'm sorry I just…when you were taken I-"
"It's okay, Featherhead. I'm okay, just a little banged up. The truth is, I did more to myself than they did to me." He chuckled wryly.
"And the reason as to your...assault on their leader?" Eberhard politely asked, a small quirk to his beak.
"Prick ordered a knife to my throat. I think that was the least I could do." He smirked back. "I'd have given him the double tap if his ass would have stood back up."
"I see. Considering what had happened, I think that is justified. But now I must ask, why did you erupt on Grendal Plumage, and attack her in such a manner."
Scream had finally sat, but the look on her face shared the same question.
"Because part of this is her fault. In fact, had the rest of fucking council been there, I'd have beaten the hell out of them too." Taking a deep breath and settling his heart rate a moment, he continued, grateful they hadn't interrupted him. "A few years back, the Diamond Dogs had an incident. A massive tunnel collapse. Knowing they didn't have the capability to help themselves without medical assistance, they came to the village of Aviary to get that help. Guess what happened?"
Eberhard thought for a moment, but his friend had the answer right away.
"They were rejected."
"Exactly. From the way Tilly tells it, that's Barney's sister bee tee dubs. They were chased away with fire and stones. From what I have been told, Grendal had been shouting that she wanted them dead." Shifting, and adjusting his bedding for something to keep his hands busy instead of clenching around someone's throat, he went on noting a weird look passing between noble and servant. "When we first arrived and started working on everything, I had heard about the Diamond Dogs living northward. Lots of hate directed at them. When I asked why they never had any good answers. I think some of them were surprised at it even being questioned about their beliefs." He sighed. "I get it, though. In Equestria, griffons and other species are often demonized in our textbooks. Any good another race has done has been painted as sheer luck. Scream, you've seen that shit for yourself, don't deny it."
"Yes…I have…" She confirmed sadly.
"My question is, why? Why does everyone have this massive hate boner for each other but are all smiles when stuck in a room together? I think the only reason we saw what Grendal was truly like was because it was only us in a conflict situation. That bitch wanted me to kill Barney, for fucks sake."
"That is a most curious line of inquiry, Mr. Falls. One I'm afraid I cannot answer at this given time. Though rest assured, I have my own inquiries about her. However, now that I know your reasoning for the Burgermeister’s assault, I have only one last question. What did you mean by employing the Diamond Dogs?"
Orion grinned.
"Why, dear Master Lonelycall, our project requires a good deal of labor, does it not?"
It was still a couple of hours before their scheduled meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Word from the scouts Scream had with her said they hadn't moved other than to get their people back inside the safety of their tunnels.
Guards were still posted at all entrances, and Tilly had even been seen several times that morning.
Orion took that as a good sign that Barney was at least listening to her. Whether he would agree was something else entirely.
But before they could get to that meeting, there was the little matter of Grendal Plumage and her little village council. Though it was his turn to have the details kept from him.
Since her awakening after having been slammed into the ground by the black colt, she had been in a right fit of temper and had already attempted to breach his room through the window. Unfortunately for her, Gilda had been there, and had demonstrated to him that he had gotten off lightly with their tussle in his rooms back in the castle.
"Jesus, who knew birdcats knew judo."
Now, he sat off to the side of a miniature throne. That throne was housed in the only building in the little village that had tile roofing and yellow-painted walls. It was a big t-shaped place too, with massive lead windows and mini garden terraces underneath them.
The perks of being a mayor, he supposed.
Said mayor was currently standing with her back hunched before them. Behind her was a few of the council members who had sided with her against Grace over their removal from authority the moment that had learned of what happened.
His friend, of course sat on the throne, really, it was more of a glorified kitchen chair, but it was a symbol of authority for the not so well to do hamlet.
Her eyeshadow for the day was a mixture of gray and black. A color combination that matched well with the deep red dress she wore and if he remembered correctly, it meant that she was both taking this seriously, and meaning to mete out justice.
The one person he thought should be there was Eberhard to advise and keep his friends' anger in check. But no, the dry-looking griffon left just before the prisoners were brought in, muttering something about fishing producing any results.
"Grendal, why did you attack Orion in the middle of the night?" He winced. His friend's voice was hard, and full of repressed anger.
The sudden question silenced all murmuring that had been previously going on.
Grace Fairheart had decided to allow the village to attend, those not working in the field at least. The reason was simple. It did no good to hide what was going on from the public. Thus she allowed them to see and hear the charges laid before their leaders.
The thing that confused him was, why had she not yet stated the charges?
"Bah, I don't need to answer to you!" Grendal spat, the sheer venom in her words made Orion's eyebrows rise. What had happened in the past couple of days he wasn't here?
"No. You do not. You need to answer to your fellow griffons. The ones who trusted you to lead them, the ones you betrayed." She stated calmly.
He turned to look at her.
Something had clearly happened, and he was purposefully left in the dark. He remembered the look the pair shared when he explained why he was pissed off at the mayor of the old forge town.
"What are you up to?"
"What are you talking about?! I have done nothing. It is you who brought that…pony…into MY village! A pony, mind you, that is ordering YOU around!" The mutterings started up in earnest, and Orion could only run his hands across his face.
His secret was out now if it wasn't before.
"Then he gets eggnaped, and you lose your wits! I say you should have let the mutts have him, but no! You have to drop everything for him!"
The lone pony in the room very carefully let her tirade go on without challenge. He wasn't stupid enough to call out her own behavior during the stalemate when he had finally been freed, because from the look on Scream's face, calm and secure though still smoldering, she had something on Grendal. Something big.
What had happened? Before he had been taken, they were all smiles and companionable company.
In the middle of Grendal Plumage's attempt to turn the trial against his friend, Eberhard slipped in a side door, carrying papers clutched to his chest. He quickly paced around the crowd of onlookers and slid up to the other side of his Liege Lady.
Whispering something in her ear, he handed over the paperwork, and she began to leaf through it, completely ignoring the continued accusations from the Burgermeister. Whom which was now facing away from them and addressing her fellow villagers for whatever support she could glean from this situation.
After a moment, the hen spun around and pointed an accusing finger at himself. "And you! I think you've done enough for Celestia's benefit, don't you? Pitting griffon against griffon, disgusting!"
Orion merely blinked at her in surprise.
"Where had she gotten that idea from? More to the point, when had she gotten to ranting about Celestia's sorry ass?"
"I think…that is quite enough posturing, Miss Plumage." Grace had yet to look up from whatever it was she was reading, but judging by her eyebrows' steady journey to her top feathers, it was interesting reading.
"W-what?!" The overstuffed parakeet squawked.
"I said that is enough." She held up aged parchment, merely one of a dozen which Eberhard had given her. "Do you know what this is? What am I saying? Of course, you do. Perhaps I should just inform everyone else in attendance."
Grendal opened her mouth to obviously object, but when her eyes took in the paper, they bulged, and all that came out of her throat was the sound a strangled cat makes.
"You are right, honesty is the best policy." Lady Fairheart held up the rest of the pages that had been given to her. "Friends and fellow griffons, what I hold here is proof of the duplicitous nature of Grendal Plumage, Boris Whitewing, Charl Greytip, and Edith Purplesong. In these pages is the sum of their contact with one, Lady Rosebreast of Icewall." She stepped down to stand before the assembled crowd. "Now, in itself, that is not a crime. However, it is the nature in which these communications were done, and their intent, that is."
"Oh my God." Orion thought. "I thought only bad guys in movies or video games kept their records. Are these people really that fuckin' stupid?!"
"On my first visit, I was too unfamiliar with how griffon villages sustained themselves. Too new to my role. So when I arrived, I believed myself lucky to be allowed to see Aviary and its surrounding farmland so well off." She chuckled. "I am fortunate that I have much smarter griffons working with me. Otherwise I would have remained ignorant."
She turned and faced Grendal, who had managed to look pale in morning light spilling in from a high window.
"Grendal, you have sustained this village against the rules of the Accords. While it is true that I do not bare full authority in this region, it is also true that Rosebreast is similarly restricted. Not only have you and your fellow conspirators accepted her assistance but you yourself were sent by her. To maintain the illusion of supporting me and my efforts to reclaim my family's land while also restricting my ability to do so."
"What!? She's not from Aviary?" Cried a voice from the crowd. Orion could see some expressing disbelief at the notion.
"No, she is not. Her claims of coming from a little farming community to the west is a false one." She spun to face the audience again. "There was one, but it was torched in bandit raids years ago. Somehow, while I have no proof, I do not believe that it was a coincidence as it happened the year of my return."
"Daaaaammmnnnn."
The black colt was more than a bit surprised, even impressed. Margarete Rosebreast's little scheme was actually well thought out and covered a great deal of just-in cases that could have cropped up. The noble hen knew that this land would eventually be given over to Grace somehow, so had implemented a plan to keep her off balance.
Clever.
"L-l-lies…" Came the breathy response from Grendal.
"Lotti Eagleheart, you will be silent." Scream said sternly. The former mayor recoiled as if slapped. "Yes, I know your name. At least I do now." She shot a glare at Eberhard, who just shrugged apologetically. "My steward had been unwilling to tell me until he had confirmed your true identity for himself. Thanks to these documents you have so helpfully provided from beneath the hearth stones of your fireplace, we do."
"H-h-" She had apparently forgotten how to be quiet.
"How?" Grace Fairheart smirked for the first time since he saw her this morning. "Let us just say Master Lonelycall has a very long memory. You have sabotaged this village by keeping crop yields low. It is why you balked when Orion Falls suggested a different way of farming. You also dragged your paws when it came to re-establishing the forges. Your constant remarks against my guest, which I may remind you is only here on his own account, not Celestia's, have sown distrust only among the villagers against him." She paused and then looked at him. "Though, he did himself no favors by pretending to be a fool."
"Okay, ouch." He shrugged and gave the same apologetic look Eberhard had done before.
"Regardless, you have acted against the interest of this community and their Liege. As such, you and your conspirators will be held accountable and held in bonds until such time as a proper and fair trial can determine your fate."
With that, Grace turned away and marched toward the throne with more poise than he had ever seen from her.
"Sergeant Broadwing, see to it that Lotti Eagleheart and-"
Instead of being in awe at the change in his friend, he should have been more focused on Grendal, no, Lotti. With an animal like howl, she produced a knife from somewhere and lunged for Grace Fairheart in a blind fury.
Orion shot to his hooves, his magic bursting along his muscles and bones, knowing he would be too late for anything other than revenge.
His assistance turned out not to be needed.
Before the hen had made two steps, Lady Fairheart was on her, it only took a single overhanded blow that dodged around claw and knife, and the would-be attacker was down.
Not just down, she was dead. Lotti's head connected with the floor in a sickening crunch that reverberated within the tightly packed audience chamber. She struck the floor so hard that her pulpified face broke through the wood.
"HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!" He shouted, taking a step back in alarm.
And here he thought Gilda was fast, but Grace was on a whole other level.
"What…in the fuck?" Gabriele Fairheart had warned him. But she didn't say anything about her being capable of that level of viciousness.
"Damn." She cursed suddenly.
The crowd was stunned to silence. Any doubt of who she was and what it meant was dashed away in those few quick moments.
"My Lady. Your training has paid off, but was it really wise to kill her?" Eberhard spoke, with all the calm of a person not in a room with a dead person as he approached with a towel. Blood from the impact had splashed acrossed her dress and face.
"It wasn't my intention. I reacted without thinking." She said casually.
Orion gaped openly and was joined by the majority of the populace of Aviary, those not rushing out the door in a panic. When his friend from across the border glanced at him, she blushed in embarrassment. As if she didn't just murder someone.
"Ah, sorry Orion. A lot of things changed with me over the years…." She turned away.
"Do tell…" He breathed.
"So that's not the first time that happened?!"
He was floored. Not literally, as they were currently flying toward the agreed meeting site, Barney had chosen, right in front of his people's den. Go figure.
"Oh, by the Winds, no." Said, Eberhard. "I think that is…what do you think, my Lady, sixth or seventh time now?"
Scream grunted and adjusted her grip under his arms.
"That would be the sixth." She replied, then added. "The first was when I just arrived back to my homeland. I hadn't even disembarked the train when a pair of Kein Zuhause attacked me and my escort. I got lucky that day, and vowed never to be caught off paw again."
"Kein-doll what?"
"No Home. It is an old slur against bandits. However, that particular pair of bandits happened to be contracted out for her death." The steward chimed in. "Her escort fell giving her a chance at life that day."
"Oh…damn…"
"It was also the day I vowed never to be that weak again." Orion wanted to mention how much her grip under his arms was beginning to hurt but kept quiet.
It was now obvious that the annoying little birdy that bothered him far too often in the past had grown up to become a dangerous bird of prey. A very dangerous bird of prey.
"Okay, one thing bothers me though." He gave a glance at Eberhard. "Can you give us some space?" Looking up he asked his friend. "And can you slow down? I can barely hear you guys as it is." If it wasn't for the Feather Fall spell and his own capability to land with his pseudo-Ironman landing spell he had worked out. He might have been worried about the distance from the ground they were at.
Currently, they were flying over the woodland, of which name he forgot, that separated Aviary and the Diamond Dogs' territory. While not a big forest, they were running late, Scream and her steward were pushing hard and high to get there on time.
A team of six guards was trailing after them, their bulky armor making it difficult to keep up with the less armored pair despite the one's physical burden.
"Oh, sorry." Fanning her wings out, his friend slowed to a more manageable pace. "What did you wish to ask?"
"Was it all an act?" He could see her head cock in confusion, so he elaborated. "I mean that demure, go-along-with-everything I wanted…thing you were doing before, back in the capital and when we first arrived. Was that all an act?"
"Kind of…" Her voice said she was uncomfortable. "I read that stallions like their mares to treat them kindly. And ponies are softer than any other species I've met. So…yeah."
Now it made sense. She had been trying to display the best side of herself. In doing so, she not only put a strain on her emotions, but when those expectations were not met she lashed out. Became more emotionally unstable.
"Scream…no, Grace. You don't have to hide yourself from me." He felt her stiffen. "I'd rather know the real you than some false image you think I would accept." He chuckled. "When have I ever given you the impression that I, of all people, was soft?"
She said nothing for a moment. Then she started giggling. It was initially quiet and subtle, but as they dipped lower toward the clearing off in the distance, those giggles became more pronounced.
He couldn't help but smirk and join in.
As they circled to come in for a landing, one Diamond Dog standing alone in the field, Grace spoke.
"My aunt is very wise. But in this, it was entirely a mistake."
"Her idea to be sweeter than sugar?"
"Oh, yes. Entirely. I had forgotten what you were actually like. I should have remembered." She commented dryly.
"You're gonna rub her…beak in it, aren't you?"
"Oh you can bet on that."
Author's Note
Afternoon Readers,
Bit of a filler episode, but a lot of important world-building and character development went on for this one. I hope you enjoy. Art update: I just paid the first half for the book cover today. By I, I mean my editor did. So work has begun. I can't tell you all how stoked I am to see this page come to life.
Stay tuned for updates as follows, and a possible revival of my Kofi account, where I will likely house most of the images I get for the story.
As always, leave a comment if you like the story or have interesting thoughts on where it might go. In any case, I love you guys. Thanks for reading.
Now, on to the 29th chapter!
Peace!
Blood and Bargains
Grace, stared across the large stone slab that the Diamond Dogs had dug up at the behest of Orion. The rough makeshift table glittered in various hues of purple and red in the mid-afternoon sunlight.
When she had asked what it was made of, her friend had simply told her to be patient as it was part of the show. She wasn't sure what he had meant by that, or how to feel about the dismissive tone in his voice when he said it, pointing to one side and telling her to stand where she was now.
When they had first touched down, a sole Dog stood toward the end of the clearing in a rough patchwork of old cloth and leathers that likely hadn't been taken care of in a great many years.
The black colt recognized him instantly as Balo, which immediately set her feathers on end when he said the name with a bit of malice.
When she questioned him further, he divulged that it had been him who had sat on his back and held a knife to his throat. That had gotten her blood to boil, but Orion told her to let it go.
"No point, Grace. These guys were just desperate. Are desperate. I may or may not beat the hell out of him later, but right now, I want to get this done, and done right."
Eberhard had agreed with him and had wrung his hands, the claws making little clicking sounds as they smacked together in his concern. Considering her loss of control this morning, his worry may just be valid.
Schooling her features to coolness, they had followed the Diamond Dog underling under the tree canopy. The loss of the sky made her shudder, but her friend simply patted her shoulder and told her everything was going to be fine.
Now that they were there, Orion's soothing words seemed paper-thin assurances.
"My Lady, perhaps we were too rash in allowing the…uh…Diamond Dogs to pick the location for this meeting." She was inclined to agree.
On one end, stood her and her retinue of six guards and two advisors. Orion Falls being the first, and her steward being the second in that list of intermediaries. In fact, her friend was leading this negotiation, insisted upon it, and so stood near the middle of the rough-hewn table.
Across from her seemed to stand the entirety of Barker Den. Every mutt that could walk, crawl, and stand was there, unarmed, as was agreed. But their sheer numbers were intimidating, and she had brought only a handful of guards with her.
Before she could respond, Orion spoke up from his position in the middle of the table.
"Alright, now that we have awkwardly stared at each other long enough, how about we get down to business? First, what the hell Barney? Did you really have to bring the entirety of your Den here? The fuck is that supposed to achieve?"
Grace winced. That was no way to start negotiations with anyone. Least of all this volatile group, he was certainly not negotiator material and she was beginning to regret letting him take the reigns of the discussion.
"Don't look at me!" Shouted the diminutive leader from his place at the other end. He was too short to really look over, it had been comical to see until another Dog had come up with a similar colored stone, and now he stood upon it, glaring daggers at her friend. "It was Tilly's idea. And don't you think I forgot da little parting gift ya gave me."
"Watch your tone, or I'll give you a greeting version of it." The shaggy mongrel paled and nearly lost his booster rock. "Now, seeing as she was named, will Miss Barker please make good on the agreed deal we made?"
"Deal? What deal?!"
Before she could voice that question, the little all-white Dog came swiftly around the table to present him with a bag.
"Tilly! What da fuck are ya doing?!" Barney Barker cried out, clearly recognizing the pouch.
"He said he wouldn't do anything for us until he got his things back." She replied tersely, plopping the old, nearly rotted sack into his hand.
"Thank you, Miss Barker," Orion said with a nod as his horn burst alight while the tattered strings unwound to allow small bits of wood and metal to float out in his magic's aura.
The black pony frowned at those. Some of his mane was still attached to them, and his frown deepened when he saw that. A glare flashed in the Diamond Dog leader's direction, causing him to swallow with some difficulty.
Finally, the colt shrugged, losing his angered expression, and the strands were burned away quickly before the ornaments settled back into the familiar spots in his mane.
Orion closed his eyes and breathed deeply as if he had been united with a piece of himself.
"Finally." He muttered, opening his eyes with a broad grin on his lips. "Okay, let's do it." Turning so both parties were in his view, he clapped his hands. "Alrighty, as we all know, I have an idea on how to make all of us the very best of friends. The details I have kept vague for my own reasons." Turning to Grace, he spoke. "Now, forgive my comment earlier. You wanted to know what this stone is made out of, yeah?"
Surprised to be getting an answer so quickly, rather than him dragging it on as a joke, all she could do was nod.
"Well, Tilly, if you would be so kind as to inform Lady Fairheart just what this particular lump of earth is?" He gestured to the tiny mutt while rapping a knuckle on the object, who had taken up a position across from him in the middle.
Clearly, both were acting as negotiators while working together.
"Of course." It was her turn to face Grace. "Your Ladyship, this stone is mostly just that stone. However, it is filled with an ore that Orion Falls tells me would be most valuable to you during this time."
The hen cocked her head in confusion. "What in Equis would I find most valuable?"
"Don't leave her in suspense, Tilly." Orion said, smirking in that insufferable way he did when he knew something others did not. The fact that it was most often the case did not matter; it was still annoying.
"Iron ore. The hills in this area are full of it. If truth be told, we haven't found much of anything else, except what Mr. Falls here has called coal." His grin grew wider. "That's in large portions southeast of us."
"Tilly!" Barney interrupted again, frustration plain on his face. "Why are ya even telling them all that? What's da fuckin' point? Why are you just giving away information!? Thats not how bargaining works!"
"The point, my magical midget asshole, is that superheated coal can make coke. If done properly, that is. Coke and Iron mixed together…" He paused for effect. "Makes a steel even better than I had planned to show you in the first place, Grace."
Grace nearly swallowed her tongue. Orion had said that the only way he knew to make steel was by using charcoal. He had never said anything about coal being used for anything other than melting metal more efficiently.
"So what." The Barker Den leader said angrily.
"So, between myself and Tilly, who had informed me that coal was in the area in large deposits, we have come up with a solution that will benefit all here involved." He held up a hand when the dog opened his mouth. "Shattup. And listen." Nodding to himself when the mutt complied sullenly, he went on. "The interesting thing I found out is you guys can smell Iron. Hell, you can smell all kinds of things besides diamonds and gems. But for our purposes, Iron and coal are enough."
"Okay. But why should we?"
"Barney, cut the tough guy act. Your people are starving; hell, some of them are fuckin' sick and dying." The mutt glared at him defiantly. "Dude, some of the poor bastards were carried up here, weren't they?" Barney's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "I am proposing a way to help them. Help you, goddamnit!"
Grace's heart went out to him. The anguished look on his face spoke volumes of his desire to help. He had clearly worked very hard on this proposal, and it looked like he was going to get stonewalled.
"And all we have to do is sniff this shit out?" There was a gleam in the little leader's gaze, suddenly seeing the easy solution.
"No," Orion said quickly. "Anyone can find coal and iron if they look hard enough. But you guys can do something that would take griffons, and even ponies, forever to do. You can dig. Now, wait." He held up a hand and turned to her again. "Grace, from what Eberhard has told me, you are capable of making certain deals pertaining to your territory. Such as temporary citizenship pending official royal sanctions. In exchange for the Diamond Dogs that are here services. You pay them, provide them with food to get them up and running, and education. They can buy the clothing later. That all comes with crown protection as if they are citizens." He gave her a pleading smile. "This is a good deal. The best deal you, or anyone, could hope to get. Not to mention this would help solidify your claim. When you produce results, it will be because you made the right decision, here and now. So…?"
Grace tapped her beak furiously in thought. He had made an excellent case, if somewhat naively. It was true that she was in her right to make them citizens of the kingdom under her banner, and her uncle could authorize the initiative, but the general populace may just revolt over the very concept of the idea.
Already the economy was strained enough as it was. To place the load of an entire people, though numbering only a few hundred, may just be too much for supply to handle when it came time for provisions.
Then there was the public's view on it. Diamond Dogs were, and still are, often seen as little more than beasts. Given the stories from ponies, it seemed rather fitting as they were notorious slavers.
Something she had originally feared would happen to Orion.
Still, if this business venture, for that was exactly what it was, did as he claimed it could, then public opinion may just swing in their favor once the first steel bars rolled into smith shops around the kingdom. Others of her peers and higher would no doubt take note of the craftiness of such a decision while at the same time be publicly lambasting it as reckless. However, there would be no doubt who would hold sway in this land, and it would most certainly not be Rosebreast, who was already going to suffer for her sabotage in this region with the use of Lotti.
She looked past Orion. Past Barney, and really looked at the Dogs standing there.
Fear, worry, anger, depression. She could see it all within their eyes. But what really hurt was the vacancy she saw in the little ones that clung to mother's legs with little real effort. As if going along with the motion because that's what was expected of them. They had given up hope and were just being pushed along by the Winds of Fate, waiting for them to decide what to do with them.
The fledgling, no, pups, were the worst. Their clothes are nearly non-existent. These people couldn't fulfill the needs of the kingdom. Her uncle's kingdom. Could they?
"Orion, I'm…not certain this will work. Look at them; they can barely function anymore." She leaned over to whisper to him.
"I have, Grace." She inwardly smiled at that. He never called her Scream anymore. She hadn't asked why, but she suspected it was because he, too, recognized that the past needed to be left behind. No matter how fond the memories were. "I have, and there is a little more. Tilly?"
Her friend turned to Tilly Barker, and she nodded.
"If you agree, we…we won't be the only ones to try and make a life here. There are other Diamond Dogs out there, in small packs much like our own, looking for a home as they try to find what we failed to."
Grace blinked at that.
"I would be agreeing to more?! That sounds almost like an invasion!"
"I know that look. Or at least I can take a shot in the dark. You're worried about a massive influx of 'em, aren't ya?" The colt spoke up suddenly. She both loved and hated how he read her so easily.
"It would be…quite a lot, Orion. How many are we talking about?"
"From what Tilly tells me. Roughly three to five thousand. The low end of that is more likely than most, given the likely failure rate of each expedition. I mean, these guy's plan was supposed to be one of the most successful ventures. But I wouldn't fear too much. Word would trickle out slowly as is, and only to those packs Barney and Tilly trust. Sure, eventually, you will have to deal with more, but by then, they will have proven themselves. It would take what…eight months just to find the nearest group?" Orion shot a look at Barney, who was no longer looking disgruntled at all.
If anything, he looked to be thoughtfully considering the proposal himself from the way his brow furrowed, and his fingers scratched at his chin.
"Couldn't send out a…uh…emissary? Is that da word? Couldn't send someone out for at least a couple of months. Have ta get ourselves fixed up first." He looked at her. "But yeah, they'd come for sure. Meantime, we have enough strong backs to provide for this little plan of yours ta start with."
"That's perfect." Her friend looked at her. "That would give more than enough time for you to prove this would work. Hell, I bet you a bag of bits, royal weight, that they could plow and till fields too. But that could be a long-term goal for later. Right now, we need to prove this all works." His grin returned. "So what do you say, Barney? Grace? Is this not a workable idea, something that can speed things up without too much to screw it all to hell?"
Grace turned and looked at Eberhard, who had remained incredibly quiet during the presentation.
The old drake was grinning! His eyes sparkled, and he gave a nod to her, letting her know that this wasn't just some half-baked scheme the colt had come up with on the spot, but a legitimate opportunity.
The twelfth in line swung her gaze to the iron ore table before her, and she tapped it with a claw, causing a flake of purple to break away to float on the sudden breeze.
Slowly, she nodded. Looking up, she nodded again, much firmer than before. Barney Barker quickly followed suit.
"Yes, I believe this could actually work. Aunty's public relations team is going to be a nervous wreck having to make the Diamond Dogs look like anything more than rabid beasts, no offense."
"None taken. I know we got a bad rep. And it's Iron Dogs if that might help." Barney said with a cocktail smile that grew into a chuckle when everyone looked at him oddly. "What? We ain't looking for diamonds or gems anymore. No use holdin' onta da past like that. If we are gonna be digging up iron for ya, and maybe weeds, we need to embrace that change."
"Very progressive of you," Orion said, nodding sagely before a sliver of a dangerous smile appearing on his face. "Hey, you know, speaking of letting go of the past, I need one thing before I can let go as well." He said with false delight.
A chill shot up Grace's spine.
"Orion, no…"
"Oh? And what would dat be?" The now Iron Dog leader said cluelessly, wondering what else there was to talk about.
"Ohhh…you know…"
With a resounding pop, the black colt vanished and reappeared in front of Barney in a flash of golden black magic. Before anyone could do more than gape in surprise, the pony swung with a fist and punched Barney under the chin, once again sending him flying and dead to the world.
"The first,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “was for the fucking knife to my throat and a nasty hairy ass sitting on me. That,” the pony pointed at his prone form, “is for beating the shit out of me when I was tied hand and hoof ya little asshole!" He shouted with a grin on his face, sharp teeth glinting in a stray sunbeam.
"ORION!"
"Don't bitch at me. He had it coming! Didn't he, Aspen?"
From a hole in the ground that Grace had not seen before then, stepped an absolutely massive white-furred canine, all muscle, and limbs, covered in a very ratty-looking old torn dress.
"Yep! Barney. Dick!" She cried happily.
"And that, right there is why I insist on the education portion of the agreement. As the ponies would say, ghastly!" He smiled smugly. Then that arrogant smile vanished when Aspen leapt at him. "NO! BAD DOG! DOWN GIRL! GET THE HELL OFF OF ME!"
Shining gazed out onto a broken landscape of blood and death. The fresh corpses from a battle not long past had yet to foul the air with their stench, but that would soon change as the sun rose higher, and the carrion eaters would arrive to claim their harvest.
He hated such grim thoughts.
Some could be seen already circling overhead, dipping low before squawking angrily and soaring higher once more.
There were griffons wandering the field, searching for survivors. They would not dare begin till the land lay still. Besides, he knew from experience that vultures and other such scavangers liked their meals somewhat decomposed.
"Buck me." Storming breathed, and he could only nod in agreement, unwilling or unable to call her down for her unprofessionalism.
The eighty-three bandits that he and his soldiers had killed in defense a few days ago was a violent and bloody affair, but the charnel house that was just down the hill from them made that seem like a picnic.
Shining could literally trace the battle lines like lines on a page, telling a tale of struggle and desperation. Bodies stacked like cordwood in small hills of spilled flesh and cracked bone showed where defensive lines held back the main assaults. Here and there, he could see the way those formations nearly broke, bowing inward, dangerously in places.
This had been a major engagement.
At first, telling bandits and soldiers apart was difficult. But once he knew the colors to look for, he could see that despite the overwhelming numbers thrown against the Prince, he had won this day. If with far more losses than he had hoped.
Was this the end of the Prince's campaign?
The stallion hadn't seen anything like this since his time in Zebrica. When tribes of zebra had gone to war over something, none would speak of to outsiders of. But that didn't matter to the many villages he had seen in ruins, their dead left to rot in the elements.
"So strange that the sun could shine so brightly on such ugly sights."
"First Lieutenant Shining Armor. If you do not mind, the Prince is waiting." The voice of their guide broke the silence that had befallen them once they had come within eyesight of the battlefield.
"Oh. Apologies. This," he gestured at the sight of death, "just brought forth troubled memories. Lead on Hauptleute Shadow-wing." He nodded politely to his guide, a large brown griffon with golden eyes. The drake was dressed in simple chainmail and padding. It was dark red with the Prince's sigil upon them, with what was equivalent to captain's markings in the Equestrian Armed Forces on his shoulders.
Shortly before dawn, with clouds hanging low overhead, a squadron of Prince Gerhard's soldiers descended upon them with no warning. Only Shining had managed to remain free while the speedy Second Lieutenant Spitfire was apprehended before any of them knew what was going on.
In fact, she and Storming Wing had been targeted first. Slammed to the ground by a pair of soldiers using nets to tie up their wings quickly, and pinning them with catchpoles.
Pestle Break was the next to be restrained. During the initial chaos of the surprise strike, no pony had seen the lone griffon sneak up and place a nullstone ring around her horn before it was too late. One had come for him, which kept him from assisting her, but he had already brought up his shield before they had managed to get within arms reach.
Earnest Hearts was the last, and it took five to restrain the miniature force of aggression as she pummeled two immediately into unconsciousness. Her mistake had been trying to pull the pair of hammers she had worn out of her belt loops.
With his comrades down so quickly, his only real option had been to try and resort to quickly diffusing the situation. The Sergeant was fighting particularly hard to free herself, and the long blades this unit carried seemed designed to puncture the chainmail that they wore.
What followed was a quick back-and-forth between himself, and Hauptleute Shadow-wing.
Fortunately, the Captain was a little more level-headed than his own team, and his small force was released after their weapons had been confiscated.
It was interesting to learn, that unlike many in the Griffonian Armed Forces, Prince Gerhard still used his nation's old way of ranking, right down to nomenclature.
Now they marched across the recent battlefield toward a stand of tents set on a high hill before them, the churn of mud from steel-clad paws made it a bit slippery to traverse, and the ponies did their best to ignore what liquid may have turned the earth to its current state of dark.
As they got closer, the tents were looking the worst for wear. Shining could pick up patches of burned cloth that had been hastily repaired to keep out potential future rainwater. It seemed the battle was far from straightforward.
"I had heard your army was doing well…" The white stallion glanced down the hill toward a makeshift field hospital. Not a single cot had gone unoccupied as medics rushed too and fro with bandages and medicine. Beyond that, were pyres being constructed, an awful lot of pyres.
"The Prince's army has been doing well. Or at least, we were. My Liege will tell you more. I am only permitted to escort you." Shadow-wing's eyes never deviated from his destination, but a tightness appeared at the corners of his eyes.
The First Lieutenant nodded in understanding, respecting the drake's professionalism even if his questions were to remain unanswered.
Before long, the group marched into the middle of the tent city, and right up to a large pavilion set up in the center. A ring of soldiers surrounded the cloth structure, and more flew overhead.
"Wait here." The Captain spoke quietly, then walked the last few paces before coming to attention before what was clearly the Watch Captain "Hauptleute Val Shadow-wing. Reconnaissance, here with prisoners seeking a meeting with Prince Gerhard Bloodbeak."
Shining raised his hand at the angry mutterings coming from behind them. He said no words, but they got the hint and soon silenced themselves.
He understood his team's disgruntlement. They were not prisoners. There was no active conflict between their nations. However, he also understood the difference in procedure. If Shadow-wing had simply said they were visitors or even emissaries, they may have been left waiting. By declaring them prisoners, it meant they moved up in the scale of importance.
"Hold." Was all the Watch Captain said, then dipped inside the covered tent.
With nothing to do but wait, as his escort and soldiers, were not much in the way of conversation, the white stallion looked around. More importantly, he looked at the soldiers that were going about their duties.
Many walked with their backs straight. But more than a few seemed to drag their hooves getting to their tasks.
It seemed this campaign the Prince had been on had been a tiring one for his forces, and the wear was beginning to show.
His ears caught the sound of weeping, and he shrugged uncomfortably. His instructors had spoken about the difficulties of keeping lovers in the same units. It wasn't just because of the risk of fraternization or favoritism, but survivors' guilt. It was one of the biggest reasons a pony would take their lives should they feel their survival was unjustified when a loved one passed on the same field of battle.
Worse if it was family.
He sighed heavily.
"The Prince will see the prisoners' leader now."
Years of training to watch a hall had left him with the ability not to jump from alarm at sudden sounds, but he still felt it and mentally scowled at the watch captain.
Turning to look at his group, he spoke to Spitfire. "Second Lieutenant, you have command. Behave."
It was rude, but considering her actions since their search began, he thought it best to remind her of her tenuous position. She flushed in anger and embarrassment but nodded all the same.
"Lead on, Captain." Was all he said, facing the tent once more. While he had met the Princess on numerous occasions, speaking to foreign royalty always left him nervous, never truly knowing what they may be thinking. Squaring his shoulders, he marched in step with his new escort. Hauptleute Shadow-wing remained with his ponies.
Inside the tent was hot and musky. The scent of unwashed bodies tried to make his nose wrinkle, but he fought down the reflex with practiced stoicism.
In the Equestrian Armed Forces, command tents were typically ornate affairs. Banners displaying nobility, if it applied or the officer in charge was well connected, would be hung about in prominent areas with suits of armor or a rack of weapons underneath. The floors would be covered in rich carpets that blocked all sight of the ground from the pavilion's occupiers. A long table would be set up with sheets of paper and maps as its decorations.
Not so for the Prince.
His decorations were non-existent. In place of banners were privacy curtains where Shining found medical professionals coming to and fro from in rushed steps. Groans from behind those thin barriers of fabric indicated that like the field hospital outside, this tent too was backed with wounded.
"How badly were they hit?"
Around him rushed officers and under officers, carrying paperwork on what was likely reports about the military action before.
The only thing resembling a long table was a rickety thing more at home in a poor barn than a military camp, and in front of that, stood an imposing figure. His back to him as the obvious Prince looked over whatever was in front of him.
"Prince Gerhard. The captured leader, sir."
"Perhaps they do think we are enemies of the state after all." Shining mused as Prince Gerhard turned around and regarded him.
Shining Armor got a very serious case of deja vu when the griffon looked him over. In everything but height and width, he was his father's offspring. The difference being only that he was leaner and taller than the old bird.
"Are you fucking blind? Does this look like a bandit to you?" He suddenly barked, surprising the white stallion and making the officer that guided him in, jump.
"S-sir? They were brought in underarms and without weapons. Hauptleute Shadow-wing himself brought them in."
The griffon Prince gave a fair approximation of a pony's snort of derision and responded. "Val knows me. If he would have announced them as guests, I would likely have just pawned them off on one of the other commanders." His eyes swung back to him. "Name? Judging by that armor, I should ask rank as well."
Shining did not waste time with the normal flourishes of title and pomp normal for an Equestrian Royal. "First Lieutenant Shining Armor. Currently under her Highness's First Recon and Recovery Division."
Gerhard's eyes widened in surprise.
"Fucking Equestrian Armed Forces? Here? What in Tartarus are you doing all the way in the armpit of Griffonia?" He laughed.
"Pursuit of a wayward foal." He risked a smile and a chuckle of his own. "To be fair, your Highness, it's a long story. Your father sent us out this way, claiming that Orion Falls came this way with your cousin. Grace Fairheart. Have you heard of their whereabouts?"
"Father pulled a fast one on you, didn't he?"
"I suspect so. However, I believe he might have had another idea." He commented dryly.
"Hmm." Gerhard's only response was as he looked him over, tapping his beak in a steady rhythm before his eyes widened. "Wait just a minute. Are you The Shining Armor with the Unbreakable Shield?"
The pony blinked in surprise.
"I am that well known to Griffonian royalty?"
"Ha! That sly old buzzard!" He roared with laughter. "Twenty-seven years, and he's still taking me to school!" Composing himself, he gestured at him. "I suppose you've already figured out that you've been had, haven't you?"
"Yes, your Highness." He sighed wearily. "I've known for some time, but it never helps to ask just in case. However, I also believe-"
"That you can ask for a boon if you render service to me." Irritated at being interrupted, he simply nodded. "You're not wrong. Should your assistance prove beneficial, I would certainly stand for your request." He gestured to the table. "Vorder, it looks like we have a way to implement that crazy plan of yours after all!" The Prince called out.
From around the corner, a wall shifted, and to Shining's surprise, it wasn't actually a wall, but another griffon. An even larger one than the Prince, his head brushed the canopied ceiling as he lumbered up to the makeshift command table.
Vorder was not just tall, but wide. The burly bird bore a strange forest green hue to his otherwise coal-black feathers.
He must have been staring, because the griffon chuckled and spoke up.
"Me mudda was what ya might call a Paraton." He rumbled out. "Me fadda was a griff. That make me tall, food make wide." His mirth bubbled over, and he chuckled richly.
"By the Winds Vorder, stop that. You have never even been to the Floating Isles. Tartarus, neither has your mother." Turning to the now thoroughly confused pony in the tent, he apologized. "Sorry about him. He thinks he's funny."
"I am funny, boss." Came a far more normal, if still earth-shaking tone. "You just don't appreciate it, none."
"Wait, so his mother isn't a Paraton?"
"Oh no, my mother is. She was just born in country here. My mother's family came with Gerhard's mother's family a couple of centuries ago. I just like to play off my family's roots, if ya get my meaning." He wiggled his brows. "But I did speak true on one thing. Food makes me wide."
Shaking his head at the big griffon's antics, Gerhard spoke up.
"Listen, Vor. Do you remember that crazy plan you had a month ago? About popping in amongst the bandit's main camp and just snagging their leadership?"
"Yeah, I do. You said it won't work cause we couldn't fly in fast enough to get in and out. And we didn't have ponies of our own to zip us in. You…" Vorder looked back at Shining and grinned. "There's more than one of you, ain't there?"
"Vorder, proper Equish, please." Came the Prince's mild rebuke.
"Equish." He snorted. "When we were growing up, it was just known as Equlisch. Just cause a pony is here doesn't automatically make it theirs." He smirked. "Besides, what's the point of speaking if you can't have a little flavor in there?"
"Again. Forgive him. I think he was a chef in a past life." Gerhard groaned.
Shining couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from within. The dynamic between the two was charming, and if he was honest, the stallion was more than a little jealous of the camaraderie these two shared.
"It is okay." He said after a moment. "Now tell me, what is this plan of yours?"
As Gerhard laid out the rough plot, the white stallion couldn't help but mull over the words Vorder had used.
"Ponies of our own. What does that mean?"
Lotti Eagleheart's corpse was given a proper send-off. Despite her efforts to kill Grace and himself, the entire population of Aviary, and even the Diamond Dogs themselves, did not wish to deny her the Final Flight regardless of the things she had done.
Orion's friend had been surprised when he had confessed his ignorance about the burial practices of the Griffonian people.
"They don't exactly teach mortuary practices either in school, Grace."
He had tossed her old name of Screaming Rush, in all its variations, after the trial and the former mayor's end. That name had been for a goofy, excitable little hen with far too much energy. Grace Fairheart was a griffon of strong convictions, and a large heart to do right by her people. It would be a disservice to her and to the people she leads to call her anything else.
Even in his own head.
"The pegasi have something like this as well, Orion." She chided gently, standing beside him off the Cliffs that lead into the sea.
The twelfth in line chose to wear a richly embroidered skirt of black silk. Her blouse was gray slashed with sky blue. Her makeup was similar in color, sky blue for eyeshadow, and black and gray for her ears.
Funeral colors.
Many villagers were absent from this event. Those in attendance wore little in the way of specific colors, adopting a more neutral tan style of dress.
The way Grace had explained it, the villagers of Aviary were unsure how to regard their former leader. A griffon, who by and large was regarded as a traitor. Still, she was present and officiated many weddings, helped with births, and even assisted in the fields. Even if that last may have been to make sure things went according to plan.
Grendal Plumage had been the mayor, Lotti Eagleheart was regarded as the betrayer. Those not there couldn't reconcile the two, while the rest merely wanted to convey their thanks for what she did right, and pray for her soul for what she had gotten wrong.
"Yeah, but like, no one practices it much anymore save for a couple of the major flocks." He whispered back.
Orion had chosen that day to stand with the neutrals, and donned his least worn tan trousers and shirt, making him almost blend in like a normal griffon peasant. Save for the fact that he was very obviously still a pony.
His choice of garb had gotten him a few nods. Drakes and hens who had been stiff with him in the past had given him quiet words of appreciation now.
"They are culturally the same." His friend huffed, annoyed.
"Uh, yeah, no. No, they are not." He snapped back. "First of all, pegasi do it to keep their sky deity afloat. The way you have explained it, you do it so you guys can join this Boreas guy in forever flying the skies. Or until he decides its time for your return." Odd that they believed in reincarnation and the ponies did not. "One uses the ashes to sustain themselves, the other wants friends."
"Do you always have to be-"
"My Lady, please?" Eberhard sounded very close to losing control, and Orion peeked over at the drake, who stood just behind them in the column of not-quite-so-well-wishers. He looked close to breaking and saying something rude to his Lady.
"I apologize, Master Lonelycall." Grace flushed with embarrassment. She may have been flexing new authority in her position as Lady of Seacrest, but she still got that bashful guilt-riddled expression whenever the secretary bird got upset.
She looked at him sharply.
"What? He didn't say my name."
She opened her beak to reply, but then Gertrude Stillbeak spoke up, interrupting whatever biting remark she had prepared for him. Now that they were simply friends, she was a lot less restrictive in the way she spoke to him. It was both refreshing and irritating.
She could really lay on the castigation when she wanted.
"Friends, fellow griffons. We are gathered here today to pay final respects to one Lotti Eagleheart. Or as she was known to us, Grendal Plumage." The aged hen said in a strong yet strained voice. Her own dress was a pastel white, her powders an ashen grey.
Clearly, the reluctant leader wished to represent both sides of the internal conflict. Gertrude had not wanted the role, but as Keeper of the Village Records, she was the only one of any standing the people in the farm town would respect and listen to.
Many were bitter at the truths Grace and Eberhard had placed before the people. Allowing them to read, those that could, shifted a lot of the negative emotions from the twelfth's party. Which was for the good, but it also sowed seeds of uncertainty about the village's future.
"We may not have agreed with all that she had done in her life, but in many ways, she cared for us as if we were her own. I remember her working herself to the bone several years ago when wingrot had taken root in our village. How she risked herself to help those of us who needed it. True, she may have come with ill intentions, but she still learned to care for us in her own way."
"She was also a bully." Said a drake somewhere to the rear of the assemblage.
"That is also true, Hardanger Cropwing." She smiled ruefully. "She was indeed a bully. But had she not been so bullish, you would have lost that wing of yours. Wouldn't ya?"
There was a chuckle that rippled through the crowd.
"She helped my mother when the rot tried to take her. I never got the feeling she could do something so horrible as the Lady Fairheart showed." Another, a hen, spoke closer to him.
"No, she was a fine hen. Full of vinegar and fire. A true willingness to help." The new Burgermeister shook her head with a smile. "I've read them letters the same as all of you. If anything, I think she worked hard to keep the worst of her Mistress's plots from our little town entirely."
That may actually be true. Orion's own brief comb over the information in those pages had yielded a similar feeling. Rosebreast wanted everything from an attempted famine to a ninety percent reduction in the population itself. When Lotti had not done any of those, the messages took on a more threatening tone. Only in recent months had the words on those slim pieces of paper been cordial.
Despite her mission and end, he felt that she was trying to mitigate the damage to the village and heart that her leader so desperately wanted.
However, she had her prejudices too. Her hate of Diamond Dogs, for instance far surpassed her disdain for him and pony kind. Though her diary never got into the specifics of what had happened to her to bring about that level of vitriol.
"We may not be able to celebrate her life. No, she has done too much wrong for that. But we can respect her for the commitments she stuck to. Even if she did not agree." Gertrude spoke with understanding.
She paused and looked at the pyre on which Lotti's body rested, then back to the assembled group as if searching for something.
"Mr. Falls?" She surprised him by turning from the main body of the crowd to address him directly. "I, nor any other griffon, has the right to ask this, but would you be so kind as to light the pyre?"
Orion blinked in surprise and glanced around himself, at the faces of those gathered with them staring back.
Expectant faces.
"Well, shit."
Did he really want to do this? True, other than hurtful words and being a general jerk, she had never really done anything personal. But the looks he was receiving said they all saw it a different way. That he was a victim and that it would be okay for him to spite the former mayor.
"You always preach about accepting others despite their actions." He chastisedhimself. "The bitch is dead. No reason to be a hypocrite."
"You know what, yeah. I can do it."
"In truth, in our haste to prepare, we neglected the one item we needed. Fire. I was hoping you might have a way to do it for us." The new mayor said with some embarrassment. That was a flat-out lie. There were braziers already lit around them, and all it would take is one of those dry branches from the pyre itself and, poof, barbecue chicken.
He chose not to comment on it.
"Ah." Pausing, he looked around. "Mind if I get closer? I don't want to risk missing and looking like an idiot." He whispered to the hen in feigned self-consciousness.
It was because he was too far away. In truth, with as much as Orion had practiced, he could hit a gnat blindfolded. But the distance from him to the pyre was a little beyond his limited range.
"Of course, please, approach." Standing aside, Gertrude gestured toward the carved stone slab.
It was like approaching a sacrificial altar.
There were three spots on what he suspected was a perfectly square-cut piece of marble. The "altars" were also made of the same material. Oblong in shape, it was cut with a bowl-like feature to let the body and wood rest comfortably within.
He could see the decades, possibly centuries, of scorch marks where others had come before.
Grendal, or Lotti as he had come to know her as, lay with a shroud obscuring her form. Judging by the smell that an errant blast of wind from the sea brought him, that was likely to keep what dignity she had left. Grace's blow had been a brutal one.
Taking a deep breath after stepping off to the side, he nodded to Gertrude, and she returned it. Taking that as the go-ahead, he ignited a ball of flame before him, noting that he had not needed to create this spell since he had been much younger.
In an inspired moment, he allowed the fire to gently descend onto the body and wood.
The moment the flame touched the cloth, the pyre was instantly consumed.
The Burgermeister nodded, a smile turning her beak. Facing the now blazing body of Lotti, she spoke.
"Lotti Eagleheart. We commit you to the skies. We commit you to the wake of the One who has come before. We bid you to dance in His Shadow, and be judged for your days. May you find mercy within His Wings, and should the day come you are judged worthy, return to us for a better life. May your Colors Burn bright."
As one, the assembled group of villagers spoke for the first time.
"May your Soul Soar High."
With that, Orion was gestured to come away from the fire, and collectively, the crowd of griffons and a single pony returned to the village.
"So, that was something," Orion remarked, picking his teeth with a sliver of wood.
Once the funeral had been completed, there was a dinner, with drinking. According to Grace, normal Remembrances had a whole party accompanying the dearly departed. A celebration of their flight to the heavens or some such.
However, due to the nature and revelations in Lotti Eagleheart's trial, not too many were very keen on celebrating the passing of one who had become a rather polarizing individual.
"What's something, colt, is the fact that you devoured a leg of gordat like it was nuthin'." Argust muttered.
Of his original work crew from his time making fields, only he and Tim had remained cordial. Arden had been downright hostile and was one of the few that agreed with Lotti and her cronies.
From what he could gather, the young portly drake was already making plans to leave Aviary behind. Rumors abound that he may just be another of the conspirators, but nothing concrete has turned up to give evidence to those conspiracies.
Orion was just confused as to how the griffon was so fat. While their village was not struggling, it wasn't swimming in excess either.
Arthur couldn't be found anywhere. That worried the black colt as the nature of that drake was shy and not very forthcoming in anything.
He hoped he was okay.
"Well, let's see. I haven't eaten a proper meal in almost a week. With everything going on, from the foalnapping to the trial, I've been too busy to do much more than eat a sandwich. So excuse me if I take time to indulge in a real dinner for once." He snarked to the normally reserved griffon.
Argust grunted at him.
"You know what I mean, colt. You're a pony. How in Tartarus are ya able to eat it?"
"Very unusual heritage." He smirked. The story for his eating habits hadn't changed in years, and it amused him to no end when he frustrated yet another now irritated inquirer.
The older griffon huffed and turned away.
"Shouldn't have interrupted in the first place, ass."
He had been speaking with Gilda, or initially trying to. Argust's butting-in had stopped the conversation before it had even begun. It was certainly out of character for the griffon, but Orion chose to ignore it, chalking it up to revelation anger.
"So…yeah. Anyways, that funeral was certainly something." He said again, turning back to his table mate.
They were currently holding the feast in the mayoral hall, where the trial had been held. The spot where Lotti Eagleheart had been smashed through was already replaced with new wood, the blood stains scrubbed out entirely.
Still didn't stop a few villagers from skirting around the location. Orion couldn't blame them. It was like walking over a grave.
"I suppose where you grew up, there weren't a lot of Griffonian funerals." Gilda mused, taking a sip of mead as she did so.
"Yeah, ponies tend to like graveyards and mausoleums. More the latter than the former at least in Canterlot. It may be due to a spacing issue, but I feel it more likely that it's just nobles trying to be uppity with their money." He chuckled. "I hear old earth pony families tend to bury their own with tree seeds. Apparently, it brings good luck to the family if it takes root."
"Really? What about pegasi?"
He thought for a moment. "Not sure, to be honest. Maybe they have something like what you guys do? I only know the ritual for sky burial is like yours. Only it's done by very few, as I said before."
"They do, though the ritual is somewhat different." Eberhard sat gently and groan, kneading the base of his spine with his slim hands. "They believe the heat of their ashes is to be sacrificed to keep their fabled hero in flight." It was his turn to chuckle. "Though, even fewer of their kind still practice to such a degree, as you had indeed said before."
"Huh, might look into that when I get back home." He smiled. "Finally managed to tear yourself away, eh?"
"Yes, there were more than just messages in that little safe under Lotti's hearth. Apparently, the hen didn't just act as an informant. A good deal of what was there were ciphers and coded messages. We are still attempting to learn what other projects she may have carried on here. The ciphers are frighteningly clever, I must admit."
"Huh, perhaps she was a way station of sorts for orders meant for other parts of the country?" Orion mused aloud. "I mean, this area is pretty remote, but the winds, from what I was told, tend to run southwest down the coast, only to cycle back up once they near Neighbon. Might be worthwhile to ask anyone who might have seen strangers coming in from the sea…" He paused. Both griffons were giving him odd looks. Like he was a strange lizard with two heads. "What?"
"Orion," Eberhard began, "is all Equestrian education designed to bring out that level of thinking? Or is it just you?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Orion," Gilda butted in. "You don't understand. Most people your age don't think like that."
"Too true, Sergeant Broadwing. Most ponies I have met around your age, do not dwell on such topics, or theorize a method of communication. Not without specific training. Tartarus, even griffons don't think like that without the proper education." The slim griffon smiled a very dry smile. "If not for your aversion to the political leader of your nation's government, I'd be worried you would eventually become serious competition."
"And that right there just confirmed my suspicions." Orion frowned. "I won't say it out loud, but that's what you really are, isn't it?"
"Yes, my insightful friend. Gilda is aware, and I thank you for your discretion. Seeing as you've taken such a risk in your own way, I doubt you would be too keen on spilling mine."
The black colt waved a hand dismissively and took a sip of his own pilfered mead.
"Eh, don't worry about it." He muttered. "It's not like I know details even if I did. The worst thing that might happen is you retire. I can't imagine Bloodbeak having you removed."
"True." Eberhard nodded and pointed to his mug. "Could not help yourself, could you?"
"I am a fifteen-year-old pony. I don't get a lot of opportunities to partake in the finer things in life."
Gilda simply snorted, muttering something about ponies and lack of wits when drunk. He and the old spy just shared a grin. It was rare to see the steward in such a fine mood.
Looking at his plate, Orion lamented the fact that he had not gotten a second leg when the old griffon spoke up again.
"The Diamond Dogs…I'm sorry. I mean, the Iron Dogs are already settled in. Lady Fairheart wanted me to let you know."
Looking up, the colt nodded thoughtfully. "Good, I've been going over the plans for the mine with Tilly. Barney is still not speaking with me, as you no doubt know." Even Gilda laughed at that one, though her back was still to them as she watched the subdued festivities carry on.
"I am aware, and she has also made me aware of the details of those plans. Tell me, why do you insist on so many raw iron rods? It doesn't make sense, and it's a good deal of material to waste as simply spacers between the wooden supports."
"Ah, crap. In all the excitement, I may have neglected to mention something." He laughed. It came out squeaky, and not at all like a stallion under the sudden harsh glares of two very irritated birdcats who were likely getting very tired of his shenanigans. "Um…ah…heh heh, there…maybe a…ahhhh….Basilisk living in their old tunnels that I may or may not have run into…."
Gilda paused for a moment before screaming.
"Fucking Winds tear me asunder. Are you kidding me?!" She screeched, rising to her paws.
"Uh, no?" Orion shied back.
"Oh, that just tears it. I am putting you in a padded cell as soon as I can get these villagers to build one. You can't just go and get eggnaped. You have to run into one of the most terrifying creatures in the wilds too! Next thing you'll find is a fuckin' Hydra!"
"To be fair, it wasn't my idea to say hello to the fuckin' thing. Me and Tilly got forced to take a detour, and there it was! I didn't even see it. We got the hell out of dodge when I felt the thing breathing through the air!"
Gilda looked like she was going to go further, but Eberhard finally got in between the arguing pair.
"Orion, I don't understand. If there is a Basilisk, why dig in the area at all? It would be safer for everyone if we simply evacuated.”
"Oh, well…you remember how I said we should reinforce the houses with iron supports in the walls?"
"Yes, you made mention of building a wall with iron caps on both ends of the wood supports too. Why?"
"Well," he began, "the Iron Dogs actually stumbled across a way to ward it off, though they didn’t know it at the time. Turns out, these things don't like iron, like…at all. Hate the stuff, according to Balo, who had a close encounter with it a couple of years ago. It came for him, and he dove back into the hole he had dug into a part of what I think may have been its lair. It borrowed in after him and suddenly shrieked and recoiled. Not sure the effect it has, but iron obviously doesn't agree with it."
"So lining the tunnels and town with iron rods is a manner of defense. Excellent foresight." Eberhard said approvingly.
"Well, that and the heavy gear the mutts will be using will have iron throughout it. Perhaps in a few years, the damn thing will realize there is no easy meal anymore, and leave the area. Though I'd advise not going looking for it. The breath attack it’s got has some range according to very vague reports."
"Fuck. I owe Private Erdtongue fifty bits." Gilda groaned.
"Why?"
"We…took wagers on what you might run into next. He picked a Basilisk, and I chose another Roc."
"Wait, wait, wait just a damn minute. You guys are betting on my luck of running into new mythical beasts?!"
"Heh, yeah."
"Shit,” he chuckled, “put me down for the Hydra." He smiled.
"Orion, you do realize you may not survive to collect that bet if you do, do you not?" Eberhard helpfully reminded him.
His smile grew into a grin.
"Of course, but if I survive, the payout will be fuckin' huge."
"I…I think once all this is done, I shall tell His Majesty that I require some time off." The elder bird groaned.
"Oh, yeah, speaking of vacations. I think me and Grace should get away for a bit." Orion piped up, being reminded of something he had decided on a couple of days ago.
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"We need a real vacation. It's summer. I need knick-knacks in order to sell the whole "colt-on-vacation" story. So I figured me and her, and a select group of guards could head on down to Neighbon for a week or two." He shrugged. "Honestly, there's not much I can do now. It's all up to you guys to make what I've shown you work, and if we don't, I'm afraid Grace will burn out before the summer is over from overwork."
"True, you have done very little in the way of tourism.” He paused thinking. “I suppose I can stay behind, observe things and keep projects moving along on schedule." He cocked his head. "But why Neighbon in particular?"
"Mostly because it's close, but also it's a port town. Lots of goods come through there, and I may find something interesting."
"When would you like to leave?" Eberhard asked, producing a leather-bound notebook from an inner pocket of his coat.
"I'm thinking the day after tomorrow. The sooner we get out of here, the better."
Author's Note
Greetings and Salutations!
I hope you all are doing well in this crazy turbulent time. I am...making it. Already contemplating and looking for a job that will best suit my writing lifestyle. I am getting older, and I am no longer the young man I once was. To that point, I am going to get into becoming an editor. I start classes here soon, and you all will likely see a noticeable uptick in the quality of my editing here soon.
In art news: The book cover for Blurring Realities is officially underway and paid off. So now we wait and lurk in my chosen artist's feed, waiting for the first bits of chum in the form of wips to fall into the stream.
Till then, drink plenty of water. Hug friends and family, and you all have an awesome day. Thanks for Reading.
Peace!
P.S. Y'all know the drill by now.
Laid Plans
Smiling grimly to himself, Drystan cleaned his knives carefully, annoyed at the slow progress he had with the interrogation but happy nonetheless. The idiot drake that had been caught on the outside of the village, clearly making a run from something, had known next to nothing. But he could extract information from a stone given the time. He was good at that after all. That is if his Mistress ever gave him the time to do so.
He ran his claws over the clean blades, checking for any residues that he may have missed, not wanting yet another issue to crop up over the mire of worries already bothering him. Order was required and his nest, much like the rest of the world should one day be, must be in order. The knives themselves were special in only their function. Iron, rather than steel, was used in their creation. A reminder of how far his kingdom had fallen in the centuries since the Princess had cowed them by murder and economically. The blades cut deep, and with the right coaxing, he could sift fact from fiction in relatively quick succession in ranking of importance.
Tonight's subject had little to say on strategic matters, but a vast wealth of conspiracies and lies. Some of which gave him pause in the level or ridiculousness this portly griffon seemed to truly believe. He wasn’t interested in gossip, however, Instead, he sought the actual day to day activities inside the town of Aviary.
That had been the true surprise, and more concrete confirmation that the Pony was working with the Hen to further her goals.
New supports for homes. Fields that were being reorganized into plots that could be easily manageable by one, and the storage designed to keep the goods to last through the winter stunned him in their simplicity and almost magic-like way it was coming together. Yet their was more.
A wall that was already going up in rapid succession thanks to the asistances of Diamond Dogs. That one angered him more. To debase themselves to such a degree that they would commune with the beasts who skulk in the ground was far below acceptable. Even if he could recognize the merits.
He growled.
As much as he extracted from the refuse, it left him feeling so dissatisfied, he needed to know more and feared not knowing would be what failed him. So he took longer than he needed to, asking inane questions to sift out anything that might be obscure, any leverage at all.
Nothing. Other than one incident of remarkable power, the Pony was still an anomaly. That power was something to be wary of.
Again, the speculation from his victim could only be accepted so far, and most of it was gibberish by the end. Perhaps if they could catch another, they may learn more.
"Is it done?" The pony's voice, high and whiny, irritated him. As much as he respected his leader, how dare Rosebreast bind himself with these creatures of deceit and subterfuge, the very monsters of their downfall so long ago. It was galling, to say the least and made him want to indulge in his more baser instincts. That, however, would be to fall to chaos, and there could be none of that.
Placing the six blades in a leather knife bag, he turned and regarded the whorse before him, the thumb claw on his left hand scrapping harshly across the index finger. A habit he had developed long ago to deal with those that were he believed to be his lessers. As the sharp digit raked along the scared surface where previous attempts to keep his temper could be felt with its passing, a sense of calm overcame him.
“Thank you.” He mentally said to no one in particular, but it paid to be polite especially if things were not going your way.
Their claim of merely being mercenaries was as flimsy as his title of Steward in his Liege Lady's service. Oh he performed the function to its utmost, but his real talent had always been as the knife in the dark to his Lady’s hand.
His gaze swept past the puffed up mare, and over the camp they had set up for themselves. Noting with a sneer that only his small force had been wise enough to set up in the trees, blending in with dips and curves in the land itself to better hide their presence. The ponies had taken to the ground. They had set up inside a hollow inside the Forest of Shadows on the northwest side of Deerkill Road. They were two days march out from the little village and scattered farm communities of Aviary.
He felt it an unnecessary precaution considering most hamlets, like their target, were less aware than a half-dead gordat, however the ponies insisted, and he had no choice but to acquiesce to their desires lest he not get what his Lady paid for.
How he longed to put an end to the charade and simply slit their throats. But that could come later, when their usefulness was at an end and he needed to cover his own tracks.
The ponies camp was well organized. The equipment was too clean; he shook his head with a derisive snort. This was an army, small and mobile as it was intended. It made him wonder what their plans were, why they were masquerading as something that, by all accounts, was not true.
"Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh. I, too, hide what I am."
"It is." He licked his beak, an affectation he recently adopted to disturb them, and noted with delight the pony's revulsion painted clear on their features. "Truthfully, he did not have much to tell me about. But his tale did much in the way of informing me that the colt is indeed inside the village. Though there have been numerous events in the past few days."
"Events? What events?" She stepped more into the light of his tent and revealed herself. The mare, as the ponies called their hens, was average for her species. Her particular race was a unicorn, which always made him smirk when addressing her, the long white bony protrusion giving it away even in the shadows of early dawn.
Her blue eyes reminded him of the sky, and her white fur made him frown. Dressed head to paw in what appeared to be the standard for mercs the world over, she commanded the space well.
Well, she would have if not for his hulking form and the nervous way she would twitch when he eyed her. That was good, he wanted this pony kept off balance.
"Apparently, the pony has managed to form some type of pact between the villagers and a pack of Diamond Dogs who are living in the area." He had to chuckle at the absurdity of it. Diamond Dogs playing the role of faithful hound was absurd.
Her features darkened. "What kind of pact?"
He barely kept the growl in his throat contained at her demanding tone. The claw scraped the scales again, and all was normal once more. He worried that he might be developing a tick of some kind. That might be bothersome.
Her ears flicked back at the sound, in fear more than likely as she regarded him with trepidation.
Drystan had been forced to employ this new calming technique more than once on their journey across Griffonian lands, and he noted with wry amusement that she and the others in her command staff seemed to react negatively to the habit. Perhaps he should keep it.
It was a delightful response, after all.
"In return for temporary citizenship, with the promise that should they perform appreciatively, they would receive full citizenship, they would dig up ore and other materials for the town." He smiled thinly. It was a devious little plot and one that could have unseated his Mistress if he had not already been deployed.
Still, the fact that it was all the colts' idea had been very surprising. Not the thought itself, just that it had come from him.
The mare hissed in alarm, very much like a snake. "How peculiar." He thought with wry amusement. Something upset her a great deal, and he and Rosebreast had a very good notion as to what that might be.
The colt was giving the secret of steel to his people, and that left him with mixed feelings about the foal. Not that he thought it wrong for griffons to relearn what had been lost to them for generations.
No, no, no. Not that.
It was the fact that the Pony was so arrogant to think of himself as a savior of sorts. Teaching lost skills not available to their people due to embargoes from the pony nations of the world. Talents that should be theirs by right. It felt like his people were being belittled by the lowest of their enemies' races.
At the same time, he was also grateful to him. Soon Griffonia would have a chance on the world stage once again. To have steel flow from the forges and become the tide that would once more wash away the corruption that had taken root within, to remove the weakness that plagued his nation.
Those would be good days. Days in which he would be busy, bringing order from the chaos that had for so long claimed his home. He was a patriot, and he wanted Griffonia strong again.
His thin smile turned genuine, unbeknownst to him.
However, the important issue was he got his hands on the notebook that Pony carried with him everywhere he went; his subject had mentioned it more than once. No telling what other secrets the equine had discovered that may benefit his Lady.
Not to mention keeping these "mercenaries" from claiming him. It was no secret that they held some type of interest in one of his targets, not likely possible that it would be the Hen. Judging by the message traffic coming to and fro as they moved slowly across the land, their true leadership wanted the Equestrian over all else.
He had seen the bands of steel, and the nullstone rings they believed hidden from his eyes. Should he tell them that the colt would likely break his restraints with pitiless ease? No. No, that may be a foolish course of action in case the unthinkable happens, and they get to him first. It was amusing to note that somehow the black pony had discovered a way to destroy their only means to control him. For it to then be lost to history so quickly, and his having a hand in the forging of that record, left him with a proud feeling growing in his chest.
"I wonder, should I not simply capture him? One other ideas remain in that head of his?" The sudden thought did not startle him.It was one he considered more than once.
But would his Mistress appreciate such forward thinking initiatives? Rosebreast was many things, tolerant of ideas not her own was always a gamble depending on her mood.
In his Lady's presence, he had to conduct himself as a stern, quiet Griffonian. One that did his duty and little else. Yet, he did chafe at the bonds she placed upon him. He could do so much more for her than just be a knife and a voice.
"What are you smiling about?" The whorse suddenly snapped. "Did he say anything more?" He frowned; the shrill voice was back, and that was quickly souring his thoughts. The claw scraped again. This time, blood came with it. This was definitely a tick he was developing, and not a good one.
“I am calm.” He reminded himself once more. It would not do to lose his temper. He had made mistakes before, and did not relish the idea of making one here.
"Not much else, I'm afraid. This one had fled the village soon after that event." He scowled as he gestured back to what remained of his guest.
Smoke rose from a small brazier that had been fitted with a gridiron. There was a piece of meat left over burning to ash. He had lamented the waste in effort, an attempt to induce more fear that quite literally killed the drake. Likely his heart gave out from pure stress alone.
The griffon on his little table had been terrified by the prospect of those Diamond Dogs moving so close to his home, so rather than protest or challenge, he had run. Like the coward he was. "The mutts' closer proximity scared him, so he gathered what he could and headed for Griffonstone." He left it unsaid that his flight ultimately led him directly into the black griffon’s clutches.
The mare before him shuddered.
"We…" she licked her lips nervously, "we will strike tomorrow night then."
Drystan cocked his head as he thought it over. It was a good plan, the one they had developed over the course of their journey. They would box them against the cliffs, and if any thought to escape by the Westerwinds they would find teams with nets ready to snare them and drop their corpses into the waters below. The walls going up would only aid in their subjugation of the town. But may prove tricky for the unicorns to get over.
It would be simple. Clean. And enough gaps in coverage were left to allow tales of a pony army attacking outlying villages. It would force Sigurd to confront Celestia; anything less and he would be seen as a coward and a vote of contest could be issued to unseat him by the Council.
His Mistress was very clever.
Nodding, he opened his beak to assent when two of his own flew in.
"Steward!" One shouted to him, grabbing the black griffon's attention. Turning he faced them, his frown deepening into a scowl.
"Yes?"
"There has been a development." Huffed Cornell, a slim predator decked in the black gear of Drystan's chosen. Soldiers who had proven to have more than the standard fare of Lady Rosebreast's normal troops, and a certain predilection for order as well. He just wished they were not so amateurish about it. "Orion Falls and Grace Fairheart are no longer in the village." The utterances of those names made him glare at the two hotly. He expected them to know better than to utter those names. They were the Hen and Pony. Nothing more, nothing less.
Before he could ask anything specific and useful, the mare shrieked in outrage.
"WHAT?!" What do you mean he's go-" The sudden silence was deafening in the wake of such an obnoxious tirade suddenly halted. The black griffon had not realized he had done anything till he felt the blood run down his palm, staining the already dark cloth of his sleeve.
Looking over slowly, he noticed the thumb claw, the one he used to scrape his flesh when irritated, had been buried an inch into the throat of the annoying pony he had been saddled with. The red blood blossomed slowly, but in a slow, pusling, manner as it coated her fur and uniform top in crimson. The violent action may have finally shattered her confidence around him. The wind brought him the scent of ammonia.
"Well, I've already come this far." He mused, already feeling slightly better about his place in life. This was much better than cutting himself, after all. He would have to keep reminding himself to get that tick under control later.
"I believe it would be in your best interests to keep quiet, Mercenary. One more interruption, one more demand, and your companions will be carting off what is left of you for the remainder of this little campaign. Are we understood?" What Drystan wanted to do was finish the action and rip her throat out, and he would eventually get to do that. Hopefully.
However, now was not the time to indulge in such a fantasy, not to mention he hated having to openly threaten someone. It was always more satisfying to watch them realize what he meant than be a minotaur about it and shove it into their faces.
The mare in his grip whimpered, not daring to light up her horn, considering the danger. He took that as an ascent and removed his claw along with his grip. It was miraculous that he had missed her jugular entirely. Noting in the seconds that the wound had not been that severe, to begin with.
Choking, a hand squeezing the wound shut, she fled back down the freshly beaten path to her quarter of the encampment. Two shadows that he had noticed before, but not really dwelt on, peeled away from beside tree trunks to chase after her. They never looked back, and a bit of peace returned to the area in front of his tent.
"What was her name again?" He shook his head; it didn't matter.
Turning, he addressed Cornell, feeling better. But not by much.
"What have you learned?"
"According to our informant, the colt and Hen departed with a dozen guards heading south on the Westerwinds. It seems their destination is Neighbon." He must have realized his earlier mistake, the grimace on his companion's face mirrored by the reporter. "From what we have gathered, they are going for a little rest and relaxation." There was a dry chuckle at that.
Drystan thought for a moment.
On the one hand, the Pony and Hen's departure was an unfortunate complication. The point was to eliminate both as soon as possible.
However.
If the pair remained away for long enough, they could arrange a better strategy in order to maximize the carnage more efficiently; with the Diamond Dogs now just a few hundred paces from the village itself, they could disrupt the original plan. He was willing to admit the idea of letting a few go was a little haphazard. Killing the beasts was no issue, but some griffons absolutely needed to survive.
"This may work to our advantage. They will not suspect our presence till it is too late. I imagine the little Lady would wish to keep her toughest and brightest with her." He mused allowed.
"It seems Eberhard Lonelycall has remained behind, Sir," Cornell mentioned. Both of Drystan’s eyebrows came up.
"Ah. Perhaps she isn't as foolish as her Ladyship believes." That would complicate matters. His counterpart was known to be very attentive, but with the hatchlings gone, he could still proceed carefully. So very, very carefully. "Get the others; I wish to revise our plans. Tell the…ponies to standby for new instruction."
Turning, the black griffon looked to where he knew Aviary was.
"I wonder what other secrets you have for me…"
Orion's head dinged off the roof of the carriage for what felt like the tenth time.
"Tell me!?" He shouted as the wind howled outside and rain battered the lead glass windows. "Do we really have to keep fucking doing this? Would it not be bette-" A sudden wind gust shunted the griffon-drawn vehicle to the left, and he flew across to land in Grace's lap.
"If we set down now-" She screamed, one hand catching him, the other tangled in with a strap bolted into the ceiling. "We will crash!"
"Whose fuckin' idea was this!?" Trying to regain his balance, and get off of her, he lunged for a strap of his own, missed, and crashed into the floor between both couches.
The black colt chose to simply lay there on his stomach, holding onto his face and groaning in agony.
"You did!" Grace had no mercy, and as he peered past his fingers when he rolled with the violent rocking, he could see her scowling at him as she practically swung from the ceiling on a single strip of leather.
"Oh yeah. I did." He inwardly groaned.
From the distance when it was first spotted, the storm front appeared not to be much of anything. Gilda had remarked that it looked like it was more of a squall than anything else. However, his friend disagreed, pointing out that those storm clouds had been rotating in a dangerous fashion. So they had put it to a vote. In the end, Orion had been the tiebreaker; he had opted to go through it rather than land and wait for it to pass as she had suggested.
Now they were all suffering from his idiotic decision.
If not for the carriage, they would likely have been fine. Maybe.
Griffon wings seemed to have been made for rough and turbulent weather. Their wide wings allowed them to catch more air with each beat, and the natural oils seeping from the feathers and skin kept water from soaking into them, weighing them down.
In contrast, while pegasi had an easier time manipulating weather and were generally more nimble in the air, they would often choose to set the storm, then either fly to a higher altitude or get to shelter on the ground. Their wings were more slender, which was great for speed, but they had to apply the oil by hand in order to repel water.
Above them, two large beats that sounded like a fist pounded the roof. A pause, then another pound.
"Storms clearing!" Grace cried.
"Thank Christ!" He shouted back in response, giving up all attempts to right himself at the moment.
Soon enough, the violent pitching and yawing began to settle into a more controlled bob though he still felt like jello. Each slowly softening jerk made him tremble with the memory of the much more violent shudders of before.
Attempting to sit up, he quickly abandoned that idea as his stomach gave a warning siren to the shifting contents within. During the turbulent ride, he had not noticed that particular discomfort until then.
"Oooouuugghhhh." He groaned as he covered his eyes with a forearm. His other hand held onto his stomach gently.
"You wanted to fly through the storm." Came his friend's smug response to his distress.
"And a fuck you too." He grumbled back. "How far out are we, anyway?"
A shift in the balance of the carriage indicated her peeking her head out the sliding glass window. Something he still refused to do.
When he had asked why they went the aerial route instead of going over by land like they had done getting to Aviary, he was told that it was because of the increase in bandit activity on all roads leading to and from Neighbon.
In truth, had they been coming from Griffonstone or anywhere else in the nation, they would likely not have come without the full complement of troops to protect them. But due to the Westerwinds, they could simply bypass the roads and ride the winds down the coast. The turbulent airstream actually helped to prevent robbers from setting up any kind of trap due to the unpredictability of the air currents.
Getting back would be just as easy, because the air stream was bizarre in some cases as they had a tight loop, allowing them to fly north at roughly the same speed as they were now heading southwest.
"Ten, maybe, fifteen miles? Orion, this is beautiful; you should come see this, the sun reflecting off the water is just stunning." She murmured above him.
"Nope. No, thank you, I will see it when we land." He groaned, hating to be reminded that they were currently between five and six thousand feet in the air.
It had been an excellent exercise in seeing just how far his Radar could reach if recalibrated to scan depth instead of looking for people. Though the result had been more difficult to achieve, than he had believed.
It had been idle curiosity that prompted him and had kept his mind off of just how high they possibly were. Orion had wanted to see if he could modify an already existing enchantment, and had gotten a surprise.
The short answer was yes, he could. However, it was far more complicated than he had expected and dangerous. To alter an already pre-existing algorithm, he had to first set the new parameters and had run into a snag. He could not remove what was effectively the original program, for lack of a better term.
It seemed hardwired into the device itself.
The man-turned-colt had been getting the distinct impression that enchanting was less about imbuing spells into objects, and more about setting a running program with magic as the input. Perhaps the original creators were intending to allow their use for anyone.
Still, he had found a workaround.
The colt had first attempted to overlap the spells together at first. That had almost caused the enchantment to implode, possibly taking him with it. The power requirements were too much of a drain and threatened to force the spells to feed on each other's residual energies.
What he did end up doing, was filling the spaces between the original algorithm. It forced him to slim down the new enchantment with a specific purpose, but it worked. He could now tell distances from himself to a specific target. He even squeezed in a selector option that could be triggered magically. One as a rangefinder, and one for the general layout of his surroundings.
"Bearded Star, eat your heart out."
In his copy of the stallion's work, there was never any mention of this being possible. But, if Orion's suspicions were correct, then enchantments really did work more like programming code, a select set of instructions for a particular task to be carried out. Fitting another similar set had worked, but he had fumbled it in, so the next time he remade the thing he may want to consider what else he could fit in there, within reason.
He would have to research this further, after he had gotten back to Canterlot, of course. Doing so now, several thousand feet in the air may not have been the wisest location to conduct such an experiment.
In the end, it was a success, and he very much wished it had turned out to be a failure. He did not like heights.
"Orion, I carried you to the Diamond-, Iron Dog meeting. How are you that scared of heights?" Grace said, amusement heavy in her voice.
He held up an index finger. "One, I had about ten different spells ready to slow my short descent if you'd have dropped my ass." Another finger pointed up, joining the first. "Two, we were not a couple of thousand paces off the ground then. Just above the trees, really. All else fails, I could have just snagged a branch on the way down and been fine." He peeked at her. "And three, I was still friggin' distracted by the fact that you killed someone with a single punch. Fuck, Grace, you buried that poor bitch into the wood. I wouldn't be surprised if her ghost is trapped on that particular plank."
He could see his friend blush in embarrassment. Not from mortification of actually killing someone, but from suddenly revealing a side of her that she had kept hidden from him.
"It's that terrifying for you? I mean, the whole flying bit?" She tactfully avoided the subject of her killing Lotti.
"It is. Oh, don't get me wrong. I am perfectly fine on an airship. Unicorns on board routinely cast spells to keep travelers on the deck by using a barrier. That is safe." He said, leaning his back against the couch seat. He was not trusting himself to get up just yet.
"But it's still high in the air. In fact, it's way higher than we are now. The ship engines could fail, the air bladder could rupture." She folded her hands and leaned forward.
"Yes, but airships are maintained by a flight crew. Those behemoths don't leave the ground without a full work-up inspection, not to mention they know how to patch holes quickly. Also, those air bladders have chambers. So if one ruptures, it doesn't take the whole craft down with it." He couldn't mention the few times he had flown on actual human aircraft. But his inquiries when he was young and coming from Stalliongrad had allayed his fears back then. "My first time on one was coming to Manhattan from Marussia. Remember?"
"Oooohhhh yeah. I had forgotten." She nodded, then smirked. "Sounds like you have a selective fear."
"Very."
Quiet made its way into the small cab. The rush of air and the distant beat of wings was the only thing that could be heard as the two became lost in their own thoughts.
Suddenly, Grace broke the silence.
"Orion…I just want to apologize. For…everything." Her thumb claws circled one another in a nervous pattern. "I-I know it was your decision, fuck you even insisted on it. But I'm more sorry for inviting you up here to begin with."
"Grace, come on…" He began, but she quickly squashed his protest.
"No!" Her palms smacked the cushions in frustration, and she fixed him with an anguished look. "Orion, I put you in the spotlight. Griffon nobility knows about you! They know what you did. Not to mention Rosebreast likely already hates you now. I deceived you by not telling you what I was, who I was." She shook her head. "A lie by omission is still a lie, as my uncle would say. And while I may have to do it for some, I shouldn't have done it to you." She sniffed, and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Orion, you could have died had it been another pack. A more aggressive pack. Or had Lotti managed to get into your room that night." One tear escaped her eye. "You could have died."
"Fuck me; she's really torn up about this." It was true; she never said anything about her rank and title in any form, and it had pissed him off. At the same time, he understood why she had done it. When it came to the government, the fewer citizens knew, the better for the government. Back in his world, it would be a bad deal, but here, it was simply for security.
If someone had read their back-and-forth mail and tried to take advantage of that in some way, there might have been consequences no one wanted to pay.
He wanted to laugh. Weren't they supposed to still be mad at one another?
"Grace." He spoke firmly. "I understand why. I'm not sweeping this under the rug. It was a dick thing to do, that is true, but it was the only option you had if you wanted to keep talking to me." He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. "I had no fuckin' clue what your life was like after you left the orphanage. The shit you went through to survive against people who did not want you there, I had no clue at all. That is hell for someone so young."
"I…I know, but-"
"But nothing." He said softly. "You…you were blinded by your infatuation with me." Both winced at that. While she had accepted that she had taken her crush on him a little too personally, it was still a sensitive subject neither had approached just yet, and this certainly wasn't the time for it. "And that can make someone do some pretty crazy things. Listen." He licked his lips, finding them a little dry. "It's okay to want things. You didn't abuse your power or authority to get them, however. Yes, you didn't tell me, but what would have happened if you did?"
She thought for a moment, her brow furrowing cutely.
"Man, too late now, but she is really adorable when she's trying."
"Message traffic…is likely read by agents of the Throne of Equestria. Due to your close friendship with the Princess's student. You may never have received a single letter from me otherwise." He smiled and nodded.
"Exactly. I would have never known."
"But still…"
"But nothing. Life happens, and in all honesty, this is likely the best outcome. I got to help your people reclaim something that, in all likelihood, was taken from you." He shrugged uncomfortably, not liking his current conclusions about Griffonia's almost catastrophic decline. "I feel good about it, and I'm having a blast getting into trouble up here in Meatland. I mean Griffonia." He paused. "Hell, I even got you guys pets!"
Grace cracked a smile at that, and he grinned back. He hoped she got the joke and didn't seriously consider the Iron Dogs pets of any sort. They may be stupid now, but they were still thinking, breathing beings.
"Still friends? Unless, of course, you don't want to be friends with the coolest mother fucker in town…"
Her smile broadened, and she punched him in the arm.
"The coolest? Pfft! Maybe lukewarm." She giggled while he rubbed his arm.
The hurt look on his face wasn't for show.
"Jesus Christ, if that was playful, I don't want anything to do with that when she's pissed!"
"Dude, at least give me ice water." He groused. Finally, feeling comfortable enough to sit back in his own seat. The bob of the coach was barely noticeable now, which did wonders for his stomach.
"Maybe…" she tapped her beak thoughtfully, "cave water." She giggled. "Okay, Orion. Okay, you are right. I cannot lament what could have happened. I can only make do with what is." She fixed him with a stern expression. "But don't go seeking any more trouble, you understand?"
"Hey, I can't help what comes my way. I swear it's like I'm cursed or some shit." He flopped back fully in his seat and stared at the ceiling.
"Well-"
Three swift pounds above cut her off. They were landing.
"Changing porters?" Orion asked curiously. "Fuck, considering what we just went through, they need a break from hauling our big asses across the sky."
Grace nodded absently, a curious expression on her face, before sticking her head out past the door she had suddenly opened. Air blasted into the cab, battering the colt full in the face, reminding him that they were still thousands of feet up in the air once again.
Or, he supposed, he didn't want to turn on the Range Finder enchantment again to find out. Screwing around with that now may just bring his stomach issues back, along with the fear.
Pulling her head back in and slamming the door shut, she laughed a little at his terrified expression.
"We've made it! It seems going through the storm actually pushed us closer to the city than I thought. It was dangerous, but we cut time off our journey. Still…let's not do that again." She muttered that last bit and began collecting her things.
The landing was a very rough affair. One minute they were coasting along in a gentle descent; the next, they dropped like a stone only to come to a jarring halt that drove his heart up into his brain.
His initial desire was to bounce straight out of the carriage and beat the hell out of them. But upon seeing the state of those that were stuck on the porter crew, he swiftly changed his mind.
They looked terrible. While the oils in their feathers had helped them stay aloft, they still looked like drowned cats. Fur matted where the wind hadn't been able to blow it dry, and feathers looked more like they had been stuck on with hot glue. Now he felt even worse about going through the "squall" as Gilda had called it. Speaking of, she looked no better than the rest, leaning against a rear wheel and glaring at him.
Walking up to her, he reached out a hand. "Hey, if you'd like, I know a spell that would remove and straighten a lot of that. I've heard preening can be a bit of a pain in the ass. I can cast it on you…"
"NO!" She squawked. "No, sorry, Orion. But no. Thank you, but preening is a…"
He felt his face heating up red hot. He had forgotten a key rule to preening. Unless it was family or a lover, no one helped another with their feathers. That was universal for both pegasi and griffons.
"Ah, shit. I forgot. Sorry, Sergeant."
"It is no trouble. Just keep that in mind for next time. Not everyone will be as understanding." Smoothly, she pushed herself up and ran claws through what she could without stripping. "My Lady, we are here."
Turning, he blinked, eyes going wide as he peered past Grace, and at the city itself.
"Holy shit…" He breathed.
Before him stretched the coastline of Seacrest, they had been following the last couple of days. The locals called this stretch of land something else, but he couldn't remember what. However, that wasn't what had caught his attention. Just inland was a series of rocky spires towering into the sky with buildings being attached and carved into them. With the sun just beginning to hit the western horizon, he could see lights blossoming on their surface, starting from the bottom and working their way up.
At the base of those spires were marketplaces, an expansive pure white beach, and several large structures he supposed might be either government buildings or homes for the rather large pony population that resided in the city-state.
"It is beautiful." Murmured Grace, who had stepped up beside him. They were on a landing platform for incoming airborne vessels, one of six at the north end of the city. The small carriage they had come in seemed even smaller as it sat alone in the center of the massive landing pad.
"Been here before?" He asked, trying to tear his sight away from the stunning view. A closer look revealed those spires to be white as snow, like the beach before them.
"Yes. A couple of times now, but in a more official capacity. I was learning how to broker trade deals with my uncle." She sighed. "We have been bargaining from a position of lesser status for centuries now, and while His Majesty is an excellent negotiator, we never quite get the better end of those disputes."
"That…that honestly blows." Then he smiled. "Shouldn't be for much longer, thanks to Lady Hardwind." She smiled back.
It had been difficult those first couple of days to get the pair to agree to anything. Both seemed to resent each other for some historical reason he was not aware of, and didn't want to be the first to give in.
Not to mention Gabriele Fairheart was like a territorial cat finding a strange feline in her barn. It had taken a stern talking to from her husband to settle her down. A partnership was eventually formed from those negotiations, one tying the fortunes of both Houses to the success or failure of Aviary.
Orion was extremely confident that both families would only rise from this, but he was concerned that once the deal was done, the old animosity would return.
"Yes, but you never did tell me what she had done to cross you so badly." She gave him a look, one far different from the one she had given when he had told her of the vague details the first time. Those details were more of cliff notes and a lie making Hardwind seem paranoid in thinking he was a spy.
It was a complete fabrication, and judging by Grace's expression, she had known it for the falsity it was.
He looked around and shook his head. "Ask your uncle or aunt when you get back."
Her face morphed into anger before suddenly softening. Looking about, she must have concluded the same as he did, too much risk of people learning about something they shouldn't.
"I understand." She said and turned away from him.
"Ouch." She wasn't happy. Hadn't been happy for a while with him, and it wasn't the loss of romance.
Grace did not like when people kept secrets from her. Hated it, in fact, and she had made it known when she, he, and Eberhard were going through Lotti's missives and journals.
Eberhard had kept too much from her over the years. Secrets that, as she grew older, she should have known. Orion was no better on this trip. It was like scrapping the wound raw again each time.
"Master Lonelycall. I need you to stop treating me with hatchling tenderness. Too much has happened that I find out only too late. Lotti's possible deception should have been known to me, and I was kept in the dark." She had begun to say their last night in Aviary. "It is your duty to inform me of possible problems in the future. While I cannot address every issue, having them known to me will help me make better decisions in regard to those issues. I've been working with one arm tied, and it has caused me no end of grief."
Then her gaze fell on him.
"Orion. Does everything have to be hidden in the shadows with you?" Her question, where he had expected his own rebuke, had thrown him off. Rather than give him a chance to answer, she carried on. "Since the day I met you, you have kept things from me. From me and others, I suspect. What those are, I don't know; however, the lies stop."
Eberhard had taken her tirade with practiced repose, but his eyes practically glowed when she mentioned the colt's own secret keeping.
However, at the time, he did not notice, more stunned that she would attempt to badger him. It boiled his blood that she put him on the spot like that, and he exploded at her in response.
"My secrets are mine alone, and as far as you're concerned, Grace," he spat venom in her name that made her recoil in shock, "that is none of your business! I will tell you there is no hidden plan behind what I am doing here in Griffonia. None!" He breathed deeply, resolving himself to a course of action he never thought he would take, not with her. "Don't you EVER make a demand of me again. I am not yours to command, and I could care less if it's Celestia herself that gives the order. I will not allow myself to be manipulated like that. Never again."
After that, he stormed out. Only later, after he had calmed down, did he realize he had accidentally slipped up in his heat, though it was slight. But by then, he was just too tired to care.
Morning came on the day of their departure for Neighbon, and he didn't even look at her. Not out of disgust, but because he didn't trust himself not to say anything to worsen the whole thing.
He could have handled it better. He knew he should have. But her accusation and demand had hurt more than he thought they would. He also understood her position and the stress she was under. For all intents and purposes, she was a ruler in her own right. Seacrest was her domain, and she was striving hard to take it back from the clutches of Rosebreast.
Eberhard had seen them off. But before departure, there was a very unreadable look being directed his way by the spy. Orion suddenly found himself caring a great deal about the night before, and what he had said in the dusty old bird's presence.
It wasn't until the second day of their journey that the two reconciled. It was awkward, and he was still feeling spiteful over the whole ordeal. She should have known better. So when the vote to wait or go through the storm came up, he had picked the position in opposition to hers.
That was a mistake, of course.
There was still a great deal of tension between them. A rollercoaster of emotions that he knew he might have already addressed, but she was still struggling through.
Part of him still wondered if he was making a mistake. The smart way to go would have been to just leave once she had accepted that he would not see her as any more of a friend. Head on back to Equestria and be done with it all.
However, there was the project and his worry that something may go wrong. He could not leave with the success of such an undertaking in the balance.
Then there was Grace. He couldn't deny that the night of Rosebreast's little trap did not have his heart quicken. She was beautiful, funny, and sweet, and lately, she has been showing the more crafty and devious side of her mind.
But how could he be with anyone when he couldn't even tell them who and what he really was? He wasn't safe, nor, if the truth came out, was he safe to be around. Then there were the murders and disappearances. Someone was out there, hunting people like him.
Shaking his head, he retrieved his bags from under the carriage and turned around.
He spotted his friend speaking with a hippogriff, who he assumed was the Dockmaster of the platform they landed on.
It was his first time seeing one of the uncommon griffon-pony hybrids.
For one thing, the drake or stallion, he wasn't sure which they referred to their males as was thin. Not grotesquely so, but certainly noticeable compared to the griffons carrying their packs and passing by.
Average in height, he was wildly colorful in a red and blue pattern that likely warred for dominance under the bright white toga with loose leggings to match. The only indication of his station was a sash that crossed over his chest, clasped together with a gold pin in the shape of wings and an anchor.
Orion had not read much up on their culture before his departure. In truth, he couldn't imagine he would be coming here before he left Equestria.
"...Yes, your Ladyship. It does cost thirty-two." He overheard as he got closer.
"That is a lot more than my last visit." She groused at him. The hippogriff smiled apologetically.
"That may be due to the fact that you were expected on your last visit. We had already reserved a Plateforme for you and your uncle's visit." He gestured at their carriage and blinked in surprise when his eyes landed on the colt. "But you have arrived, unexpected this time, and without reservation. We will have to redirect craft to land elsewhere, and that costs time. And time, as we both are aware, is money."
"What's wrong?" Orion asked Grace.
"The Maître de Quai insists on us paying thirty-two Pranc in order to keep our carriage here." The hen huffed in exasperation.
"Is that a lot?"
"It's a day, and yes. Bit to Pranc is currently one point eight or nine to one. Depending on weight."
"Nearly sixty bits. That is a lot considering the cost is only fifteen in the Canterlonian Docks."
"Why the markup?"
The hippogriff arched an eyebrow before pointing to the city.
For a moment, he did not get it. Then it smacked him like a brick.
"A tourist vacation hotspot. Fucking duh."
"I'll cover it." He shrugged, setting his bags down before going to his hip to grab at the coin purse there.
"Orion! You can't! That is a ridiculous amount." But he was already counting out the coins; other than the initial few purchases, he had quite a lot of bits left over. Though by the time he got back home, he was thinking he may want to take on a few more jobs to replenish his stock.
"We are staying here a couple of weeks, right?" He asked, and Grace numbly nodded her head in defeat. She knew the routine by now. She said don't, and he did it anyways.
He handed over eight-fifty.
"Sir, this is too much." The Dockmaster said in surprise.
"Consider it a tip for dealing with an unscheduled landing. I'm afraid this was my fault, after all. I insisted on coming here pretty much at the last minute." He put a shamed grin on his face.
"I see." He said, and bowed low, pocketing the bits in two coin purses of his own. "I will ensure all due effort in maintaining your carriage is carried out."
"Just make sure no one jacks it, and we are all good." He shrugged, grabbing his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. "Oh hey! Do you know a decent place to rent? As you can no doubt tell," he gestured to himself, "I can't fly. So we are gonna need something a little closer to the ground so everyone can be happy."
Instead of answering, the hippogriff male cocked his head to the side, the smaller-than-normal beak scrunching up in confusion.
"What?"
"Um. Forgive me, Sir, but you don't strike me as an Equestrian. From where do you hail?"
Orion snorted. His vernacular once again outed him as a stranger.
"I came from Marussia, Stalliongrad. But I live in Canterlot now." No need to tell the poor guy he was also an orphan. The way his head jerked back in surprise may just give him whiplash.
"Ah." That was all he said at first. Then he shook himself. "Apologies. I am not usually so invasive. Just your…word selection has caught me off guard. You may wish to seek the Oceanview. It caters to ponies and griffons alike."
"It's no problem, and thanks. I keep telling myself to make up some cards. You wouldn't believe how often I get asked that particular question." It was his turn to tilt his head. "Since we are on the subject of questions, I got two for you. Make that three. What do you guys call your males and females? I'm afraid it was never really covered in school."
That was putting it mildly. The one time Neighbon was mentioned as anything more than a geographical location on a map, was when it was mentioned what goods they traded in. Pony education seemed really selective in what they covered about other races. Almost like everything not equine was an afterthought.
"Ah, I see. We actually call ourselves drake or hen. We prefer the griffon way of speaking as well. You should fit in quite well here." The drake said with a smile.
"Oh, cool. I was worried about that. Secondly, why do you sound like you're from Prance?"
"Now, that is a very common question, Sir. It is our education. When our nation first formed, we had nothing set up to teach our young. We were alone and lost adrift in the waves. The Prench were the ones to offer aid in the form of trade and education. Even today, many of our young spend a year or two in Prance to refine skills only touched upon here." He nodded.
"That makes a lot of sense. Children tend to mirror their educators. So it would still hold true even here. They are essentially a French colony, without the French needing to live here." It also explained their currency.
"Alright, and last question. Why is it so warm here? It's practically tropical!" Spotting a pair of palm trees just over the hippogriff's shoulder, he amended his declaration. "Scratch that; it is tropical here. What's the deal?"
"Ah, that is not a usual question I receive. I would direct you to ask that of Mademoiselle Charter. She knows the area and weather far more than anyone else here. By the way, my name is Safe Harbor. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call on me."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind, and I appreciate the tip on Charter. Now," turning to face Grace, he found her gone. "Okay, where the hell did she go?"
"I believe she rejoined the rest of your entourage. I must say, I am surprised to see a pony traveling with such an esteemed company. The King of Griffonia's niece is certainly no one to turn up one's beak to."
"Yeah, we lived in the same house for a while, a long time ago. Thanks again Safe, have a good one." He left the hippogriff there; judging by what his Radar was telling him, the drake looked to be gaping at him. He would have to keep trying to refine the resolution further later, but it was getting quite good.
"...Oceanview will be our destination. I believe I can accommodate everyone's stay." She said with a frown. Hesitancy was heavy in her voice.
"What's wrong?" He asked, stepping up next to her and dropping his bag once again.
"What is wrong, is you’re too trusting of strangers, Orion. Oceanview is notoriously expensive, even by pony standards." She grumbled.
"Ah, I figured as much." He shrugged.
"You…you knew? And you simply nodded and said okay?"
"Well yeah. Because I asked Eberhard before we left, and he said the Crimsonwave would be more to our liking. It caters mostly to griffons, but it's on the beach to the south." He grinned.
"Then why ask?!" She nearly shrieked, and he raised his hands to placate her.
"The reason I asked is the same reason I acted like an idiot back in Aviary." He shrugged under her glare. "To be honest, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I only thought of it because I've counted at least twenty ponies in the streets alone. As long as I appear to be just another tourist, I won't stand out too much."
Grace grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the guards. They, in turn, shrugged, grabbed their things, and began filling off the platform. Only Gilda remained behind, watching everyone and everything like a hawk.
"Something is bothering you." It was not a question.
Orion looked around, not meeting her gaze for a moment, noting that the Dockmaster was still watching them curiously.
"I'm back amongst ponies, Grace. I know you don't think I know the extent of how bad things can get for me if someone were to find out about my involvement in Aviary. And a prison sentence is the least of them."
Her sudden sharp intake of breath caused him to wince.
"Yes, I am well aware. I looked into the laws currently in the books about helping foreign nations. I have some leeway because I'm a civilian, but in truth, that won't mean a hill of shit when it comes to the nobles." He scowled. "You have trade agreements, but no formal peace treaties between Equestria and Griffonia. That means you're considered an enemy nation by law. Helping you, even as a civilian, will be tantamount to treason, considering what I am providing you with. That's death." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Even if I figured it out by myself, the law, and more importantly, the nobles will not care. They will prod Celestia into some kind of action, and with pony society's view on anything, not them, I'll have the Book thrown at me."
"B-but if you know, then why risk it?" He looked at her flatly, his gray eyes flashing in the afternoon sun. "No…it can't be that simple."
"Yeah. It can." He smiled ruefully. "Besides, if I ever need a favor…"
"You know we would not hesitate…Orion, this is extraordinarily risky. If Celestia were to ever find out…."
"Then you, nor any of those attached to you, shouldn’t say a goddamn word about what I am doing up here." He poked her in the arm. "Regardless of what anyone thinks, this is the right thing to do. I don't want to see another kid go hungry as I did all those years ago. Now come on, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be carrying my shit around all afternoon!"
Turning her about with a gentle hand, as she was still in a daze from his admittance, he flashed the Dockmaster with a toothy grin; he and Grace left the platform to chase after her quickly disappearing guard. Gilda was dead on their heels.
Celestia smiled to herself as the door to her study clicked close with a soft snap leaving her in the silence of well-earned accomplishment.
"Well, that was more difficult than I had expected. But the end result should put Orion under far more control than what Mrs. Evergarden has been able to do as of late."
It was obvious the troublesome colt was far too much of a burden for the poor mare.
A fact that she had ignored up till now because he had largely behaved in a reasonable fashion. However, between his departure to Griffonia, his efforts to keep the knowledge of that flight from her, and Evergarden's seeming willingness to help in that deception, it was high time he had been brought to heel.
In truth, she never imagined the colt would be able to cause her so much trouble considering his position. At least, at first. Going over her encounters with him over the few short years, she has gotten a distinct impression that he mostly does whatever he reasons out to be correct. Regardless if it wasn't the right course in anypony else's opinion.
What bothered her more was the fact he now had access to another ruler, though likely very limited. Grace Fairheart's uncle was not a King to allow just anypony to approach them. Considering how long Shining Armor and his team had been away, another irritation, it was a good wager to think the colt had managed to weasel into his good graces at least somewhat enough to find some protection. Likely only done to irritate her specifically.
It was working.
As to what he did in order to do so was beyond her current imagining, but she considered it troubling nonetheless.
Still, once he was back in hand, the issue of his unruliness would be quickly put to rest. She had let this go on for far too long. Picking up the first sheaf of paper in a large stack, she sighed and mentally prepared herself for the rest of what was likely going to stretch into a late evening.
A knock, commanding, and swift, broke her from her work not ten minutes later. "Cadenza." She didn'tneed to sense the ripple of familiar power to know who it was. "For a mare that is often seen as languid, she certainly goes about her duties with urgency."
Celestia did not like the young Alicorn. If she could have prevented her ascension, she would have, but forces set forth long before she had fallen into her care had robbed her of that opportunity. Now she was stuck with the Love Princess, who consistently stretch the boundaries of the restraints she had placed on her, and had no real notion of what to do with her.
At this point, she was ready to make herself an ambassador just to get her out of the palace. Cadence had far too much influence over her protégé as it was, even if she served her purposes in bringing the filly to her. The mare had caught on too quickly to what she had been up to, not to mention, her own eagerness had been a dead giveaway.
"Enter." Celestia said crisply. Already going through the mental exercises needed to blank her mind and dull the aura she displayed, a tedious practice, but the Alicorn of Love was too good at inferring what she wished to remain hidden.
Stepping inside after making the door just wide enough for her expansive bosom and rear, the lesser princess quickly shut the door behind her.
"The Minotaurs have brokered a trade deal with the Saddle Arabians."
No Princess, no Your Highness. The mare had gotten worse since her pursuit of that stallion.
It didn't matter. There was no audience, and Celestia wasn't about to squabble over unimportant issues in the face of frightening news.
"How? More importantly, when?" She asked, careful to keep the irritation she felt under that mask of mental fog.
Apparently, it was not enough by the widening of the Alicorn's eyes, but she didn't bother to mention the loss of composure.
"Six days ago. We only received word of it this afternoon." Celestia very nearly cursed.
"Do we know the details?" She asked in a calm tone she did not feel. "Why now? After so long!"
"From the announcement, it is a simple commodities arrangement." The Love Princess's lips turned down into a frown. "However, I and Intelligence, believe that to be a cover. The quantities are too low. The prices are far too high."
Celestia did curse then. A string of expletives that caused Cadence's eyebrows to disappear into her perfectly styled mane.
Standing, she marched onto her balcony to cool down and center her mind. Build back the mental walls. She had been losing her temper far too often as of late. The sun was beginning its downward arc toward the Unicorn Range, it's warm light small comfort as she wrestled her emotions into something close to calm.
After a while, she spoke again. Not turning around. She didn't trust herself yet to turn around and face the message bearer.
"There is more, isn't there." It was not a question.
Smoothly the younger Alicorn stepped into the periphery of her eye and nodded. It was good to know that she had the decorum not to attempt to do more.
"I'm afraid so." And she truly sounded like she was. "The ambassador set to arrive in Griffonia is not the minotaur we thought him to be." She swallowed. Hard. Her face showed fear and concern all at once. "It is not Gnokas Bellfounder, but King Talmos Ironvein. With three battalions of troops and no less than three supporting airships with the four warships under his command." It was a war fleet.
"Talmos…" she breathed. The one creature in this world that could compete with her in influence was still alive after five hundred years? "Are you certain?"
"Yes. It was confirmed by a winged flight of pegasi near the Isles of Bales. They were warded away, but not before getting a good look at the deck. From all three reports, the minotaur on that deck matches the description."
Celestia fairly growled. They had met only once, and despite her power and authority, he had dismissed her like some scullery maid. She often tried not to let her ego have too much leeway, but to be treated and outright ignored in such a way had been the most embarrassing event in her long existence.
That singular moment had nearly fractured her hold on Prance itself. Being made to look weak was not something an upstart nation needed to see of her, and it took another decade to remove that tarnish.
"And I can assume Intelligence has no clue as to what he is doing out of his kingdom?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Cadence shook her head. "They are scrambling. Most are still reeling at the fact that it is him, right down to the scar that has cost him sight in his left eye."
A sudden thought struck her. Orion Falls was in Griffonia. Not likely in Griffonstone itself, all things considered, the obvious stopping place for Talmos, but still. Worse. She had a team of ponies hunting for him. With no certainty of where they might actually be, and no way to recall them.
Ironvein loathed ponies with an intensity that rivaled her own sun. Her last attempt at ambassadorship had resulted in the ambassador she had sent killed and strung up on the Wall itself. Her and her entire retinue.
What would he do upon finding Shining Armor there?
What made this all the more strange was the deal with Saddle Arabia. The Sultan, and his people, were all technically ponies. To form a trade agreement with them in any capacity must mean something significant.
"Cadenza…do you have a way to contact your beloved?" The mare's widening eyes said she had just come to the same fear as her own.
"I...I do. A Sordé Val ."
Celestia nodded. She wasn't really surprised, but a Sordé Val was nearly Dark Magic. No, it was Dark Magic when one considered the ramifications of employing it on somepony. Considering her years of pursuit of a mate, it was not hard to imagine she learned of the magic of contacting somepony remotely by impressing their essence on one another. It was evil in truth, but only against the unwilling. Shining was at least willing.
"We must at least warn him of the danger." She quickly informed the Love Princess of what had transpired the last time Talmos had encountered an Equestrian.
Cadence whimpered. Actually whimpered as her horn burst to life in a brilliant glow of pink, already the undisguised spell forming the runes and algorithms to initiate contact.
Before them, in the same glow of magic as the caster, a ball of light blossomed forth. Singular and alone in its revolving dance of pinks and purples. But soon, a blue hue began infusing the ball, creating a blurring swirl of a multitude of colors. Shapes soon appeared, then all at once Shining Armor's handsome visage formed, blood splashed across his face as he viciously skewered somepony on his blade. His teeth bared in a snarl of anger.
"Was that a griffon?"
"Candy!?" He shouted, his breath coming in quick bursts as he glanced about him. "Baby, now is a really bad-" He snapped his head up and to the right. "I TOLD YOU TO KNOCK THOSE ARCHERS DOWN! IF YOU DON'T GET THOSE BUCKERS, GERHARD IS GOING TO HAVE A TARTARUS OF A TIME BREAKING THEIR LINES!" He spun around and continued his tirade at somepony across from him. "GET YOUR TAILFEATHERS MOVING, YOU BUCKING BIRDBRAINS!" He gestured with his sword. "VAL! TAKE THE SPEAR SQUAD AND FLANK THEM! RAM IT WHERE IT HURTS!"
Both princesses looked at each other. Celestia, eyes merely showed annoyance rather than concern mixed with surprise at the stallion's sudden vulgar language. Cadence's face showed an odd combination of worry, fear, and pride of all things.
Composing himself, he gave a sad smile as he turned toward his love once more. "I'm sorry, Cadence, but now is really not a good time."
"What is not a good time? Lieutenant Armor?" The Sun Princess's stern voice spoke evenly, nearly making him fall over in shock.
"PRINCESS ?!" He practically shrieked.
"Yes. And you have exactly one minute to inform me what you are doing. I sent you to find a colt, not participate in a war!" She hissed, coming into view of the globe of light and pushing Cadence aside with little protest.
"Ah….haha….um…crap…"
Author's Note
Evening all. Sorry for the late posting. Real-life issues got in the way, and I was unable to get back home in time to do it early. Real life sucks bum-bum.
I am simply waiting for the book cover to be done. I am currently in a Que with about three other folks ahead of me, so this will take some time. Still, I am happy that my chosen artist is getting work.
Not much else to say for today. Thank you all for being my readers, and I will speak to you soon!
Thanks for Reading.
Peace!
Dangerous Rumbles
The clack of hooves striking marble floor echoed in the long stone hall their owner proceeded down. The air was dry and cool, a far cry from the mugg,y humid air of the city streets below.
Manehattan was going through a particularly hot and muggy summer season, and the occupants of the twenty-story building were grateful to the team of unicorns that recharged their cooling crystals regularly.
Though the cost seemed to increase with each passing year, a complaint more than one accountant has loudly voiced.
However, one mare did not care to notice, could not care to notice in reality. She had been summoned unceremoniously that very morning by a courier to her offices on Third Street, which sat just off the waters of the Hoofprint Sea, upwind of the fishing docks that serviced the more carnivorous portion of the population.
A courier dressed in black and red, with the Church's sigil upon the left breast.
The Ministry of the Church of Sol, in this case, the local branch that oversaw the city and surrounding areas, had called her in. There was a good chance she may have finally been discovered directing resources to her own personal projects and was likely going to suffer the consequences.
Her steps were measured, iron-shod hooves feeling heavier with each step. It was meant to assure herself as well as give an air of confidence to any who might notice her.
She had donned the heavier hoof cleats with the intention of walking a great deal and did not wish to wear down the lighter gold ones she normally liked to see on her hooves. Because of this, the climb of fifteen flights of stairs inside the Ministry's Manehattan offices became a grueling challenge to her thighs and calves with the extra weight. Her ankles screamed for relief.
Velvet had no choice but to ignore it all.
What were they going to do to her? Other than her ill-advised projects regarding the pursuit of Orion Falls, she could not think of anything else that may have warranted such a call.
After the failed attempt using Blueblood and his adopted son as a cudgel, the mare had even backed off from her pursuit of the colt. So what was the reason behind the black-clothed summons?
Unfortunately for her, she would find out soon enough. The double doors of intricate gold scrollwork embedded into the rich black wood loomed large before her, halting Velvet Backwater in her tracks.
Fear tried to worm its way out of her belly and into her heart with vigor. The two guards that stood on either side watched on impassively as she struggled to squash the thing that threatened to break her.
Dressed in the deceptive cloth of black with red piping, they regarded her with cold merciless eyes as they stood as still as sentinels, their gaze no doubt seeing everything without the need to move.
The mare noted that they very likely must have recently come from the Island. She had never seen them before.
Under their clothes, probably, was the most advanced armor somepony with the Church's means could afford. Designed for slim concealment so no pony would suspect, yet hard as stone should somepony attempt to strike them.
Swallowing, she spoke thickly. Finding her tongue to have become somehow swollen in her thinly veiled terror, forcing the words to be thick and sluggish.
"Velvet Backwater, Epsilon Division. I come as called. Iawait to serve." Those words, spoken first at her Cordvo Tal , rang into the still air like a gavel. She tried not to swallow though she so badly wanted to.
"Enter, and be Judged." They said as one, and each grasped a gold handle and pulled the door back.
Velvet hesitated, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply before opening them again, determination on her face. If she was going to be punished for doing what she thought was right in support of the Church, then so be it.
Velvet would have no regrets; even if they chose to have her flesh peeled from her body, she was still confident her choices had been the right ones.
For the Sun's victories, were everyponies' victories.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched in, and the double doors boomed shut behind her.
"Velvet Backwater, we called you in because a concern has arisen." Her stomach sank. "From one of your old projects, no less. We wish for you to give us insight on the matter and provide us with possible solutions."
The dark red mare blinked in surprise. Was she not to be punished?
Upon entering, she was directed to stand at the center of a brightly lit room.
Sunlight cascaded into the chamber from a display of windows of gothic design. The light illuminated the all-white floors and ceilings broken up by ornate gold lines and red stone borders.
At the center, a sigil made of obsidian stood, a pair of hands cupping the sun, the very symbol of their order. Not daring to stand upon it, she instead parked her hooves half a pace from it and knelt.
In front of her, a half-moon dark wood table, its construction matching the window's archaic design, five ponies sat in equally ornate chairs. All were silently watching her enter. Judging her with each hoofstep she took.
With the unexpected statement, she was now confused as to the nature of her summons. Her expectations of being censured had been replaced with wary hopefulness, yet she still suspected a trap. Had they perhaps not known about the attempt to take Orion Falls from Canterlot?
"I will do my best to assist the Ministry." She said it almost too late. One of them, Cloud Blight, who was the only pegasus among the unicorns, arched an eyebrow at her.
"The Ministry hopes you do." Sound Bright said sternly. "First, we are aware of the operation in Canterlot that you coordinated with Lord Blueblood and his son."
Velvet did her best not to wince. "Of course, they were aware."
"Yes. I-"
"You believed it important to try for the colt," the gray mare lifted a sheet, squinting at it, "Orion Falls, after your discovery in Marussia, we are aware."
It seemed they wanted to confirm their own investigations. Any explaining away would be either ignored or shut down entirely. It would be best that she kept her answers simple till given leave to explain further.
"Yes."
"An artifact was found there, yes? Your report referred to it as a possible suit of unknown design and purpose; that is what you called it in your report." The dark red mare nodded. "What is it?"
"We are not entirely sure, Honored One." One never spoke their names, only knew who they were. "The fabric is made of a material we still have not identified that is tougher than any material we have ever encountered. Whatever it is, we do not believe it could be found in nature. It is also oddly shaped at where hooves would be and long, which indicates its original wearer was tall."
"And the broken dome?" Asked another, Holistic Trust. He was also unique in being the only stallion in the room; the blueberry-colored pony sat back languidly in his chair. However, anypony who thought him lazy and self-indulgent would soon find themselves in trouble when he decided to act.
"The dome we now believe to be a helmet of some sort. There is some type of lock-in mechanism that allows it to fit the suit; the material it is made of is also unknown." She reminded herself to keep it simple.
"I see." He said simply.
"Tell us," the lone pegasus said. Velvet didn't know her, so she must be new. "Why do you believe Orion Falls has a connection to this suit?"
The mare did wince then. They had most certainly read her notes in their entirety, which meant she had a leak among her people. Which was expected, but it did mean she now had a chance to explain herself, to explain her obsession. Still, maybe she should not have written two reports.
"Orion Falls origins," she began with a lick of her dry lips, "has been a mystery no pony has yet to solve. Not that many besides myself have been very interested in him, you understand."
"All because he gave you the slip years ago." Holistic interrupted, a grin spreading across his face.
"Yes." She almost hissed. "Cloudy Sapphire did lose her license for her involvement in his escape, however." It hadn't been too difficult to get the foolish mare removed from her stewardship of the orphanage, though unseating Azure Dream had been a challenge she had not spent much time on and ultimately just left her in charge. Seeing it more as leaving her predecessor as a warning, seemed easier than going through the process twice.
In the end, it was a pyrrhic victory.
"Did you know she is already practicing again?"
Velvet nearly stood in outrage.
"She is WHAT?!"
"I was not aware."
"I suppose you would not. She is now living in Stalliongrad, of all places, and doing remarkably well. Though the local crime syndicates there are giving her some difficulty. But she is not the focus of this discussion."
"May not be the focus now, but I will not allow that trollop to thrive after she refused to obey." It was a sore point for her, one that many in the Church derided her with. Velvet Backwater was done over by a simple low-level custodian. The thought alone was enough to make her vomit.
She did not ask what the focal point of the meeting was; the Honored Ones would get to it when they chose. So she put her issues with Cloudy Sapphire aside and stayed attentive.
"In your report of the "suit", as you called it, it was remarked that the outfit was all of one piece and stretched beyond what our fabrics can currently do. Is that statement accurate?" Cloud took back over.
"Yes."
"Now that we have established the nature of your discovery, I will ask again. Why do you believe there's a connection between the colt and this artifact of yet unknown origins?"
She licked her lips nervously. If they had truly read her reports, then they know she was making a conjecture more than having concrete evidence. This inquiry was seeking the reasoning behind her thought process.
"I…I will not deny that what I am about to say will not inspire confidence. However, there are too many anomalies surrounding the pony known as Orion Falls for me to be able to simply write him off as just strange." Velvet began, wanting them to understand that even she was not one hundred percent certain.
"Start from the beginning, if you would." Said Cloud Blight, who had rested her back against the seat, green eyes bright as she regarded the mare.
"When Orion Falls was first brought to my attention, I merely regarded him as another failed example of our race. His attitude was beyond abhorrent, and I was appalled to see how out of control he really was. It wasn't until I looked deeper, after my first encounter with him, that I noticed something was off about him." She shifted slightly, her knee long gone numb.
"Rise, Velvet. I cannot imagine that position is comfortable, and it sounds like your tale has more than what could be said in a few short minutes." Amber Waves said with more warmth than she expected.
The golden mare was the eldest, and her honey-colored bun, streaked with grays and whites, showed her age.
Nodding gratefully, she rose and continued, now confident this was not a trial.
"My investigations showed a remarkably intelligent colt. He surpassed his peers and, surprisingly, many of his teachers. His knowledge of science and mathematics was, and likely still is, beyond standard schooling." She shook her head. "According to school reports, the principal at that time was having difficulty curbing his willful arrogance as well, often devolving into shouting matches between them. Punishments seemed not to phase him at all when administered."
Velvet remembered her surprise at what she had read and was shocked further by how much he had weaseled out of.
"What made all of this so unusual was his age. At six years old, he was far beyond what he should have been, learning to use capesso after just seeing it performed once. His vocabulary was also a point of interest, sounding more like he was born and raised in some backward griffon village to the north.
"The oddities only expanded when he demonstrated that meat was something he not only liked but required in order to live." Amber chimed in, and the dark red mare nodded.
"Exactly. I interviewed both doctors that had evaluated his blood and himself. Both confirmed that the colt needed meat in order to be healthy, or at least the protein itself in large quantities. But the blood was strange, roughly one-half showing unicorn parentage. The other was a muddled mystery that, to this day, we have yet to identify." She shook her head before continuing. "In any case, when I finally had all the right ponies in place, I made an attempt to bring him into our care after an unfortunate incident occurred at the orphanage he was living in. Unfortunately, Cloudy Sapphire was aware of what was to happen and made plans in advance. Getting out of the city by carriage was a calculated plan that had worked in their favor, as I expected them to either go by train or airship." Throwing her hands up, she shared an exasperated look with the Ministry. "I had never even considered it until two weeks later after several inspections of seabound shipping vessels and a report saying he was spotted in Canterlot."
"And we can assume, once you realized you lost the chance to take him, you turned your attention to his past." Cloud Blight prodded, likely realizing that Velvet was getting off-subject.
"Yes. At that point, I figured perhaps I could track down his birth parents, or at least a parent, and persuade them to bring him to me by invoking their rights. Sadly, that was not the case.”
"My team and I arrived in Stalliongrad three months later. Interview after interview revealed nothing but more questions. Many didn't even remember him. Those that did were uncertain when he appeared. I should have expected that, considering how long it had been. But one mare did help us, Agnessa Proud, a resident of that city and quite old. She spoke of him with fondness. Apparently she liked them spirited. From what she could discover, Orion Falls had come from outside the city."
"So you took your search to the villages, I take it?" Holistic said, his usual demeanor gone in favor of rapt attention.
"Yes," she sighed, remembering the failure of that search, "and we turned up nothing. If the storm hadn't forced us to take shelter by a clearing near a creek, we might have never found anything."
"But you did." He spoke again, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
"That is correct. There were signs of an obvious attempt at burial. I tested the soil myself later in our mobile lab and noticed the age at which it was exposed to the elements. It roughly coincided with his appearance."
Velvet paused then, her mind going back to the moment she pulled the dirt-covered cloth that had been exposed by the elements. The strange boxes that decorated its surface that they later found no way of understanding.
"As I am sure you're aware, there are also detachable boxes that came with the suit. We managed to break one of them open and discovered copper, gold, and tin inside. Along with, of course, yet more unidentifiable material." She shook her head. "That…is when my obsession truly began, and you know the rest."
The punishment for wasting Church resources had been one of pain. No pony in their organization believed her. Though they did note the oddity of the suit, none could explain away the odd hoof coverings.
In the end, they confiscated her discovery and locked it away. Once her punishment had been administered, she was forbidden to pursue him any further.
"Yes. Thank you for providing that brief overview." The eldest Honored One said. "What we are about to tell you is sealed to the Sun." The change in tone caught her attention immediately, it meant no pony outside that very room was to know what was about to be discussed, and it sent a chill down her spine.
Amber Waves held up a small stack of papers.
"This is the report from our agents in Griffonia. You may not be aware, but our efforts to keep Bloodbeak from doing anything more than collecting taxes have been going well. We have fielded small forces acting as mercenaries in support of a Margarette Rosebreast. A Duchess in their country. Rosebreast is a prime challenger to the current ruling family, and from our analysis, she has shown to be far too narcissistic to make a favorable ruler. Our efforts to ensure that she obtains the throne have been largely successful." She paused, letting the papers drop. "Though Gerhard, the King's son, is currently doing far better than we like. All that, however, does not concern you."
"Forgive my impertinence, but what does, if not that?"
"Orion Falls has been discovered in Griffonia." Velvet might as well have been struck because she physically recoiled at the news. "At first, no pony knew why the colt was there; his stay in Griffonstone has been marked by unusual events. Are you aware that he has close ties to the Bloodbeak-Fairheart bloodline?"
"He's in Griffonia?! Why? How?!" More to the point, could she get to him?
"No, Honored One, I was not privy to that information."
The mare nodded in acceptance.
"We were not as well. It seems Grace Fairheart, the twelfth in line for the Crown of Griffonia, was a foalhood friend of his before she was whisked away back to her home nation. When she did live among us, she was known as Screaming Rush, a simple orphaned griffon from the food riots of the border between the nations years ago."
Velvet felt her eyes widen in surprise. She did know that griffon. Never once had she bothered to investigate her, believing her to simply be what she had been at the time.
"My apologies, Honored One. I should have investigated her when-"
"It is fine, for even we were unaware. However, his proclivities of being attached to royalty seems to be a recurring theme with him. As you are no doubt aware, he has the ear of the Princess, if very loosely, by way of being a friend to her student." The title held no respect, and it never did when a member of the Church spoke of the usurper on the Throne. "That, unfortunately, is not the focus either. Currently, he is in a small town known as Aviary. It exists in the province of Seacrest, which technically belongs to Grace Fairheart herself, though there is contention between her and Rosebreast for the land due to rights of holding. Apparently, Grace Fairheart's parents' death and her disappearances put that land into Margarette Rosebreast's care."
The wine red mare didn't think that mattered either.
"Aviary was once a prosperous steel manufacturer centuries ago, and what Orion Falls has done is revitalize that industry. Or he is attempting to." Amber said suddenly.
It was a hammer blow to the belly that left a sickness in her stomach.
"He…he is…"
"From the latest reports our agents have gathered in the field, Orion Falls has either known or discovered how to forge steel." Velvet's eyes bulged. She was going to throw up.
Centuries of assassinations, scouring the griffon libraries of the knowledge of the process to craft steel, and embargoes pushed in the halls of nobles had stifled the Griffonian people of the industry and crippled their economy to its current state of retchedness.
All that work was now being threatened by a singular colt.
"He must be stopped!" She cried, taking a dangerous step closer to the sigil in the center of the floor.
"Peace, Mrs. Backwater. We already have the Thirty-Fourth in a position to stop this risk. However, we have been forced to wait because of his sudden departure to Neighbon." Amber Waves scowled. "Nor can we simply attack the village either. Drystan, Rosebreast's steward, is keeping a tight rein on Honey Blade. He is more of a terror than we had realized, and we fear that if we push too hard, he will turn on us quickly."
Velvet placed a hand over her heart and took a steady breath. The Ministry had this well in hand. It was now all a waiting game at this point. But if that were the case, why call her in?
"I am relieved to hear that, Honored One. However, it seems like you have everything well in hand. Why ask for me?"
"Orion Falls has shown a remarkable ability to get out of trouble. If this event fails to yield favorable results, we need another avenue of attack. Some other way to get to him. He has turned out to be far more troublesome than we could ever imagine. That is where you come in. This is as much an apology as it is an assignment. We wish for you to begin planning. As to what, we will leave it to your discretion. That will, of course, be subject to oversight should the need arise."
She nodded thoughtfully. If he did manage to escape, they would need something else. Something ironclad that he could not weasel out of.
"It will take time, Honored One." She said finally after silence had filled the room. "But given the information presented, I may have something. However, I will need help moving some of our own in place."
"You shall have it."
Sunlight reflected off the water in a beautiful lapping cascade of sparkles that rippled along the coast. It was beautiful, and it blinded him the moment he walked out of his rented rooms.
The beating of the waves soothed his annoyance at the Sun's continued attempts to punish him for some slight he could only guess at.
The call of seabirds echoed in the air as the tiny avians swooped and dived into the clear, if turbulent surface.
Some would rise with fish in their beaks, beating hard to the sky once more as some of the more unsuccessful hunters chased after them. Hoping to nab the prize for themselves, no doubt.
Orion just breathed it all in. In, and out. As he did so, he felt the weeks of worry and stress flow out of him. It was almost a physical thing, making his knees wobble slightly as he leaned against the rail of his room's balcony to stay upright.
"Goddamn…" He thought. "I've missed this."
Smelling the salt tang in the air brought back memories of all-nighters. Those nights would often end with him watching the sun rise over the water in the state of Florida, where he once called home.
It was a bittersweet reminder of how far he had come, across an infinite void of time and space, to become part of a world that never gave birth to him.
He was also aware of how impossible that should have been. For the first time in a long time, Orion began to consider his origins and how it came about that he ended up here, how he became a pony, of all things.
His first memories of this world were ones of panic and paranoia, and while the latter remained, it surprised him how easily he had overcome the former. Not to mention the odds that this dimension would be a pun-filled, yet understandable, twist on the one he came from left him dizzy at times with the implications.
How was it these creatures had the same names for cities and countries, only altered slightly in equine wording? How was it that they could even speak the same language or that other countries shared many of the languages of Earth itself?
What made it worse, or at least unfortunate, was that he could speak to no one about this. The moment he mentioned these thoughts to another being would be the moment the illusion of him would be broken. He'd either be considered insane, or someone may just believe him and bring up their own set of issues that would surely complicate an already messed-up existence.
It was one of the primary reasons he did not desire a relationship outside of friendship. Sooner or later, he would screw up and let something slip.
"Shit, that is already happening."
He sighed and ran his hands through his mane, still wet from the shower he had taken earlier.
"Why am I thinking about this shit now? It's too late to really dwell on it, isn't it?"
But something in Orion told him it wasn't. It was telling him that something wasn't right about his new home, and it wasn't his technically crippled status as a unicorn.
He glanced at the newspaper that had been left in front of the red door marked twenty-seven. His private rooms.
No one saw headlines like that back in Equestria. But he remembered seeing them back on Earth.
Violence erupted in Maro last month when Equestrian Forces claimed the west bank of Neighile. It said in bold letters plastered across the front page.
According to the writer, the Equestrian military had made the decision to take a part of the major river to protect shipping coming up from the mines to the south. Apparently, the local zebra tribes had issues with not just the loss of territory from the south but the use of waters they deemed their own as well.
It went on to discuss that while the Zebricans were putting up fierce resistance, they were still being pushed back, resulting in massive casualties on both sides as the conflict escalated.
Marussia was in another civil war, it seemed. A known fact about that nation.
The city-states, with its loosely defined borders, were having trouble getting supplies and were relying more and more on Prance to supply them.
Prance, who was having its own little scuffle with the southern waters with Saddle Arabia. Both made use of the Lunarian River. However, the increased demand from the sultan, a Nasir Stormwinds, about ancestral rights to the whole of the river being returned to his people had led to skirmishes between the two nations.
Every page contained some type of conflict.
Pirates in the southern seas near Zegypt who somehow had their own airships. Mexicolt was going through its worst drought in a hundred years. Murder, disappearances, disease.
All of it screamed of an imbalance.
Just like with Griffonia. That strangely Germanic country he was working to improve by setting one town as an example.
He couldn't help but think this was all on purpose. But if that were the case, what was the end goal? Or was he just being paranoid.
The screams of children, hippogriffs called their offspring fledgling, and chicks, like the griffons who helped spawn them, broke him from his increasingly spiraling brooding thoughts.
He could see them jumping and flapping in some weird game on the beach, splashing in the waves as they came to strike the shore with thunderous clashes of water on the chicks themselves as the seemed to frolic without a care.
It pulled a smile from him.
One question remained. The same one, in different variations that had been bouncing around inside his skull since this mad idea had spawned forth from there. Why was he bothering? What had changed within him to pull him away from his original selfish course?
The answer was simple, the kids in his life had changed his perspective on what was worth his time and what wasn't.
Every day he spent time with a constant revolving parade of foals in the orphanage he called home. Their stories, whispered to him by some of the less closed-lipped staff that occasionally took employment with Mrs. Evergarden, told tales of abandonment. The loss of family and relatives broke down his desire to remain secular, away from them in general, to preserve what he could of himself.
"We are all always changing, Orion. That is the beauty and joy of life."
His shrink had said to him just before he jumped at the opportunity to come north. And she was right. He had changed. The fact that he didn't care to make a profit from his efforts in Aviary was more than enough proof of that for him.
For years he had lived only for himself. Shunning family and friend alike who could not further his pursuit of his own pleasure.
How might his life have changed had he not isolated himself in drugs and alcohol? Would he have still been a victim of others if he was more connected with those in his life?
Orion shook his head, mane shifting with the movement making the ornaments there clack together.
"This world has changed me, hasn't it?" The man-turned-pony could only hope that it was for the best.
He tossed the pages of the newsletter back on the ornate coffee table. Shaking his head at the fact that, for some reason, the people of this world really enjoyed the dark wood motif, he admired the setup. It sat on the balcony of his second story of his temporary residence, vines of a plant he could not identify scaled the wood lattice. It was surprising that the rooms were so cheap, considering the work and care that had gone into something that only served a simple purpose.
Orion glanced once more at the newspaper and snorted, he had already read the damnable words twice this morning, and he was done wasting the day. All of that was outside his control any way and in truth, he just wanted to relax.
Turning, he walked to his bags, which he had haphazardly tossed on a blue couch after finally getting the key to his rooms and swiftly crashing on the plush bed he had been provided with. Digging, he pulled out the red shirt and the familiar black pants he almost always wore.
Rarity would be appalled.
It made him chuckle a little, not just the thought of annoying the finicky mare, but he always thought he looked half-naked running around in the breeches. He doubted many got the joke, so it was always a private joke that made him giggle when he thought no one was looking.
Quickly he changed, then headed to his bathroom to run a brush haphazardly through his mane. His teeth, he had taken care of in the shower.
Taking stock of himself once he set the combing implement down, he smiled. It was time to start the day.
Heading down the stairs, his smile broadened as he practically skipped into the common room of the Crimsonwave. The smell of spices wafted into his nose as he passed the kitchen doorway, and it made his mouth water. He smelt eggs.
The innkeeper, a portly griffon of middling height, had been delighted to have Grace and her retinue in his establishment. Otto Fallowclaw seemed to have a smile on his face even when no one appeared to be looking. But then again, with half the staff of his inn being his offspring, he likely saved a ton employing them, which would make anyone happy.
Orion knew he would have been happy.
Walking up behind the drake, who was currently polishing a table, one eye sweeping over the morning patrons, he clapped the birdcat on the shoulder.
"Morning Otto, how's the day treatin' ya so far?" He grinned at the innkeepers' startlement.
"Orion, you shouldn't do that!" He squawked at him. "I'm getting too old to be frightened like that." A smile slowly replaced his scowl. "The morning goes very well. The…omelets," he spoke the unfamiliar word slowly, "are selling faster than I thought they would. I never imagined doing that."
The colt's smile turned to a grin.
"Well, I got an idea for chocolate chip pancakes if you want to target those with a sweet tooth." He grinned back. "Lady Fairheart come down from on high yet?"
"Nope. But she is a Lady, so it may take her longer to get ready than some orphan that barely spent the time to do his mane. Do you want breakfast? It's on the house." The portly drake said, already moving toward the kitchen.
"Hell yeah! I could go for a meat lovers." Orion followed after, noting that more than one patron had the egg dish in front of them.
"Hah! Had someone told me a meat-eating pony existed out in the world, I would have told them they were full of it. But after that display last night…."
Otto was referring to the eight skewers of some type of seabird he had all but inhaled when they had first sat down late yesterday afternoon. The poor drake and his staff looked on in wonder as the colt had demanded seconds, then thirds of the tasty meat on sticks.
"Yeah, I get that often." He chuckled. Shaking his head at the memory of them, attempting to understand what was happening in front of them. There was now a betting pool of what his parentage actually was. Insultingly enough, Diamond Dog was the lead.
"I'm sure you do. Living in Canterlot, I can't imagine that goes unnoticed."
The colt winced at the statement. While his needs had been widely accepted in the school, once the incident with Golden Trot had run its course, he was still encouraged in the strongest terms to keep it out of the academy.
"Yeah, unfortunately, I've had to adopt the practice of eating either at home or away from others. They know, of course. But as long as I keep it out of the way of their sight, no one says a damn thing." He nearly growled at that.
It had been an uncomfortable reminder that despite their grudging acceptance of what he was and what he needed, pony society still demanded he keeps it out of public view. Some still insisted he was faking it somehow. Others called for his head.
"Sounds like it isn't to your advantage," Otto said sadly as he made two quick knocks on the countertop, and suddenly a plate appeared, the omelet still steaming. He could see the chunks of meat breaking the surface past the sea of eggs and cheese.
"Already prepared for me, eh?"
"Trade secrets of an Innkeeper, son." He winked, shoving the food into his hands, and pushed him toward one of the open tables near the back. "Now I got things to do, so you go eat. That pretty little hen of yours will be done shortly, I'm sure."
Orion carefully did not show much reaction to the comment as he went and found a seat. Just one of many such remarks of the proprietor and his staff they threw at him and Grace.
It was the general consensus that they were a couple and the half-hearted attempts to squash that had been met with statements on them just being shy.
For him, it was a bit funny if annoying, but for his friend, it was like salt in the wound that was being ground in with each sentence. With every look.
He sighed and ate his food. His now soured mood made the dish not as great as it could have been.
A major reason for this outing was to get Grace's mind off of everything. From the not-break-up to the worry she might have set something in motion her uncle was not prepared for, he knew she was feeling the weight of those concerns and had wanted to do anything to get her mind off it.
Now, in the Crimsonwave, she would be reminded constantly that she had been rejected. How could he get it to stop?
"Communication is key to any issue." He thought as he gnawed through a particularlytough piece of meat. He would have to tell Otto that the pieces should be smaller. "Ninety percent of all problems stem from missed signals, right?"
Placing his fork on the finished meal, he carried his plate into the kitchen. That was a big no-no, and a cook beyond one of the massive skillets glared at him. Orion shot one back equally as hostile and kept his pace till he approached Otto, who was now busy instructing his workers.
"Hey, Otto," he began, startling the poor innkeeper once again, "we need to talk." Placing the plate down, he turned around to face the scowl.
"Colt, I often let a lot of shenanigans get past me, but this ain't one of 'em." He made a shooing motion, but the colt stood firm.
"Sorry, this will only take a moment, and most of your staff needs to be in earshot anyway." He raised his hands placatingly, his aggravation at having to do this taking a back seat. "Listen, I need you all to stop inferring that me and Grace are a couple."
The request must have been bizarre for the drake because his glare was replaced by surprise.
"What do you mean by that, hatchling?"
"What I mean is, I need you to stop. For one, because we are absolutely not a couple. Two, she wanted us to be. Every time any of you say something to her, it hurts. Me, you just annoy the shit out of, but her?" He chuckled darkly. "This has to stop now, and I don't care if she learns I said something. This is supposed to be a vacation, and Grace does not need to be reminded that I rejected her every other sentence from you all."
"You rejected her?" Piped up a pony by the name of Color Palette. She looked and sounded shocked.
"Yes. My reasoning is not yours to know, just that it has less to do with Grace than myself." He shrugged, looking back at Otto. "I just need this to stop, and I get that it's gonna be awkward knowing what you all know, but please just try and keep the same upbeat attitude you've had up to this point around her."
"I understand." The drake said solemnly, no longer looking outraged by his presence. "But to reject royalty…." His eyes darkened. "It's not because she's a griffon, is it?"
"Hah, no!" Orion laughed. "Believe me. Grace is built like any guy's wet dream." A hen's face and beak flushed. "You should have seen her the night we went out to a noble's party. Wow."
Just thinking of that night made him regret it all over again.
"And you chose not to?" Otto said in surprise. Leaning in, he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "My young fool, you do realize she will not wait around forever. Don't you?"
With a wistful sigh, he responded with a shrug. "I know, and if I am being honest, I hope she doesn't. The sooner she gets over me, the better. Trust me. I am more of a wreck than you would believe."
"That's so sad!" Wailed Color. She had produced a handkerchief from somewhere and was now dabbing at her eyes and sniffling loudly.
"Yes, it is." He said sagely. "But I need you to just knock it off with the whole couples thing. Neither one of us needs that over our heads right now. Okay?"
That got nods of agreement all around.
"Good, now. I have an idea…"
Grace descended the steps to the inn's foyer with more hesitancy than she would like to admit.
The place was surprisingly large, considering its modest size. The rock stone it was dug out of, while porous was still sturdy enough to support not only all the hanging lanterns and random assortments of ship paraphernalia but the large pillar that stood atop it. Its decorations reminded her very much of being inside a ship on the sea.
When she and Orion had been given the tour of their accommodations, including their rooms, they were shown most of the floor layout.
On the seaside of the inn, a whole awning and porch area was built up, allowing anyone the luxury of a view with their meal. However, on the west end of the structure were carved various storage rooms that kept most items that spoiled easily cool and dry. One particular vault had a refrigeration unit for meat alone.
Otto Fallowclaw had confided that it was expensive to have a unicorn come out once a week to charge the crystals that were embedded in four corners of the chamber. Not because the effort to do so was taxing, but because the unit was used to store meat, and the mare that did it often complained of the smell.
Orion laughed and remarked on the squeamishness of ponies, which got an odd look from the proprietor, only for that look to morph into awe and concern later when the colt demonstrated his need for a more carnivorous diet.
She paused on the final step.
Grace had heard the gossip. How could she not when it was spoken in the very bathroom she had gone to relieve herself in.
The staff had assumed automatically that Orion and she were in a relationship, which made sense to them because this was Neighbon. That kind of romance existed here as a daily part of their lives.
Her friend had tried to put a stop to it, attempting to be jovial yet being firm with them. It hadn't worked very well.
Now she was going to have to face them again. Be reminded again.
The young Lady of Seacrest took a deep breath and stepped down, turning right to the dining room.
"Orion. What is this?" Grace asked, staring at her plate, which had three rolled pastries topped with berries and some type of white creamy substance. Now that she took a closer look, she noted inside the rolls were more various berries and that same white substance.
"That, my Lady," he said without a hint of mockery, "is crepes with strawberry, blueberry, I think blackberry and cream cheese." He grinned. "It's a breakfast burrito of fruit, one you missed out on that the brats in the orphanage get to partake in every adoption day." His grin morphed into a sad smile. "This is my way of making up for it."
Shaking her head, the hen had no idea what a burrito was either, so she decided to ask another question. "What is cream cheese?"
"Essentially curdled milk, a bit of lemon, and salt." He replied immediately, obviously expecting her next inquiry.
"You're trying to feed me spoiled milk?" She said in alarm.
"Not spoiled! Curdled. C-u-r‐d-l-e-d." He spelled it out. "Trust me. It's delicious. Have I ever steered you wrong?" Her flat stare caused him to chuckle and add, "About food."
Eyeing him once more, she shrugged uncomfortably and picked up a fork to cut off a piece of the pastry.
With clear hesitancy, she took a bite. The berry blend, along with the cream cheese, exploded on her tongue in a way she wasn't expecting. It was delicious, and she had no words to describe it truly.
Grace couldn't help it. She moaned.
"Heh, some might say that is better than sex." He commented dryly, taking a seat across from her with his own single, crepe.
"You've never had sex." She spoke around her next bite, delightfully putting a hand to her cheek.
He just smiled in that mischievous way he did when he thought he knew something she did not. That look was always infuriating.
"Does the Lady like?" Otto casually sidled up to them, a worried frown on his beak.
"It is delicious." She murmured, unable to stop herself from taking another bite, savoring the way the berries popped in her beak.
"I told you it would be." Orion smugly replied, wiping his lips with a napkin. "Why are you so worried? The omelets are doing fantastic." He gestured with a fork at other patrons who had various versions of the egg dish the colt had told them how to make the night before. However, some of them were now eyeing what they had.
"Because," the innkeeper said with seriousness, "you claimed that crepes are a Prench dish. I have never heard of it, and none of the others have either."
Her friend cocked his head curiously, but behind his eyes was something else entirely. "Why is he panicking?"
"Really?" He said with feigned coolness. "That is weird. Eh, still delicious, and now you know it. No need to grumble any more, alright?"
"Yes, yes." Otto waved a pudgy hand. "So I assume you two will be heading out today? Do you wish your rooms to be tidied?"
"My room? No, I didn't do much other than sleep. Though if you really want to give them," he pointed at the gaggle of staffers whispering conspiratorially with each other, "something to do, I could use some new towels. Otherwise, I'm good." He turned to Grace. "You? Do you need anything?"
"No. I don't need anything either." She flushed. It was a lie, and her blush confirmed it. Currently on the floor of her bathroom was a small pile of feathers she had preened from herself that morning. The idea of someone else cleaning that up, even after the years spent in noble society, did not leave a comfortable feeling in her stomach.
"Alright, no need for the cleaning crew then. Also, yeah, I figured we could either hit the market first, the beach or see if there are any museums in the area to look through." He paused. "Are there museums in this city?"
"There are, but only one. It covers the founding of our nation as well as the geographical discoveries of the area." Tapping a claw to his beak, Otto continued. "It has been a long time since I last went when I had less gray feathers and fewer daughters, but if memory serves, there are relics of ancient times on display there as well. Should be interesting for you, colt."
"Huh, would love to check that out." His attention swung back to her. "How 'bout it? Want to go to the museum with me?"
Grace thought about it for a bit, far longer than she normally would have, but she was eating the rest of her delicious breakfast, so she used that as an excuse.
After a moment, she shook her head.
"No, Orion. I don't think I will." It hurt to say that to him. To even think it. However, as she bedded down the night before, she thought about what she needed, and it was time away from him. Some space so that she could focus on herself rather than be caught up in whatever strange idea he had suddenly dreamed up.
Orion paused and arched an eyebrow as he looked at her, then slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah, that's fair. It's been a while since you had a real break. Just give me an idea of where you'll be so if something comes up, I can find you quickly."
Grace smiled gratefully. It would seem he immediately knew she wished for her own time. Her heart seemed to lighten just a bit because of that.
"Of course. I can tell you now. I plan to spend today sleeping. The breeze coming off from the sea is refreshing, and I think I want to enjoy it." She said, moving out of the way as her now empty plate was removed. The hen was very tempted to order another, but she suspected Orion had more to do with that dish than Otto's cook.
"It is nice, isn't it?" Pushing his own plate to the side, he stood. "Well, I'm gonna go get some spare change and head out. I think I will hit the museum first, then maybe look for a library in-"
The quickly approaching steps of someone stopped her friend's voice cold. He was looking at someone, a frown pulling at his features.
Turning around, she bit back a gasp.
Roderick Silktail stood behind her, panting as if he had run, or likely in his case, flapped for all he was worth to get here. The hippogriff drake smiled shakily, and spoke in a winded voice.
"Grace, it is so very good to see you!" He exclaimed. There was warmth in those words, enough to make her blush furiously and look toward a puzzled Orion Falls, knowing he was likely not to take the merchant son's sudden intrusion very well.
"Yeeeaahhhh…" He responded slowly, snapping Roderick's attention to him. "But who the hell are ya? Don't you know it's rude to come calling without a notification of sorts? I mean, she is a Lady, you know." He gestured at her without looking.
The neck feathers on the drake ruffled, and Otto hissed in alarm.
"I am Roderick Silktail of House Silktail. The current head of the Neighbonese Merchant Alliance." He fixed him with a glare. "And you, pony, I don't like you."
"Well, I've never cared too much for those who obviously ride on their predecessors' coattails either." He smugly replied back.
Everything about Orion said he was calm, but Grace had looked down and noticed how his hooves were placed. The black colt was ready to strike, his legs slightly apart.
She couldn't help but groan. Roderick was many things, intelligent, charming, kind, and even generous. Especially, with the people. But the drake had one terrible issue. His anger.
"How dare you!" He spat. Taking a step back.
"If I am to stop this, it better be now." She wasn't sure who would turn out on top in a straight-up conflict, but knowing her friend like she did, it would likely not turn out in the Heir to the Silktail House's favor.
Standing, she set herself between the pair and stated in a clear voice of command.
"There will be no fighting!"
"Hey, I wasn't fighting. Your boy over there was the one getting squirrely, not me." Orion shrugged his shoulders and grinned insufferably.
"This serpent in the sea is being rude, Grace. Far too eager to climb above his station." And there was the other issue, Roderick did tend to believe his position in life made him better than others.
Wisely, her friend looked at her, smiled a tight smile, and said nothing, yet the tension did ease from him.
"Roderick, I request in the strongest of terms that you treat my friend with respect. He has come a long way at my behest, and has gone through some terrible trials to remain here. I will not tolerate such rudeness aimed at him, not even from you."
The mild rebuke left the poor drake at a loss for words. His small beak clacked uselessly as she watched his mind try to find a way to respond.
Finally, he choked out, "Your friend?"
"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."
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.
War, What is it Good For: Part 2
“No…wait. Wha-? What is this? Why is it shuddering like that… No! NO! NO! WHAT THE BUCK IS GOING ON?!"
"What is it?" Terra responded, annoyed, turning from the door she had been more or less guarding for the better part of an hour and regarded Onyx Light with disdain as she watched the mare frantically flip through a book of notes she had rarely seen cracked open.
Emil's bluster and impotent threats had been reduced to sputtering and incomprehensible shouts, muted by the heavy and magically infused iron-bound wooden door.
There was no real threat from the griffon as they had ensured the door, windows, and even the lone chimney placed in the center were more than sturdy and protected enough to keep any would-be fool out with overlapping barriers that had been cast with practice ease.
Those spells, unfortunately, due to the fickleness of such power-hungry mana drains, had to be recast daily to ensure their strength. But what was ten minutes to keep the rabble out?
Since the beginning of this assignment, tormenting the aging mercenary leader, who still dreamed of rulership, had been her only outlet in this otherwise dull assignment. Simply hearing him scream his pitiful demands was a highlight of an otherwise worrying evening.
The attack hadn't been a complete surprise. Terra Burn, with the help of her compatriots, scryed to see what the calamitous noise outside their spire was about, and it was mostly what they had expected. They had been anticipating an assault for some time and had even advised relocation on more than one occasion because of their suspicions, yet it was not good, and they didn't have the liberty of abandoning their assignment.
“The site was too secure to abandon”, Emil would say. Or; “The Prince wouldn't be able to find his own tail feathers without assistance from his father, let alone this place”.
Those words were an omen. It was only a matter of time.
The sight of Prince Gerhard himself, however, had been a shock. Even they hadn't believed the young Lord would commit so much of his remaining force to this kind of attack, let alone allow himself to be on the battlefield, even if he seemed to have been regulated to the rear guard.
They had decided to adopt a wait-and-see approach, and Emil was correct. The walls were more than strong enough to repel the prince's forces. The fortifications, however haphazard their construction, were still leagues above being caught out in the open.
There was no reason to jump the hedge as of yet. That didn't mean they couldn't plan for the worse.
Onyx was in the middle of a cleared space in the center of the circular room they used as their bed chambers. The tall white mare, dressed in simple woolen armor, was pacing around a circle of powdered crystals. The dull glow coming from the charged ground stone showed no indication of any kind of trouble that would make the normally reserved pony suddenly shout. Or curse, either. Considering her well-known disgust of vulgarity it was outside the norm for her to be so out of countenance.
"Onyx, what is wrong?" She prodded again, taking a step toward the scowling equine, worry now etching her face.
"There's…there's been a massive field disruption. The ley lines are fluctuating too wildly to navigate, I cannot establish a connection, and the formula keeps slipping away like its tissue coated in oil!" She spilled out, turning to look at Terra, a mane of black locks flicking elegantly over her shoulder. "Which is impossible, as you know."
The silver-furred pony did not know, but she could put two and two together.
"Are you implying we are cut off from…" she breathed.
"Apparently, yes." The mare bemoaned. "I just don't understand! What could suddenly produce this effect?” She scowled at the array of crystals. “And right as we were preparing to leave." She brought a hand to her chin. "Could Prince Gerhard have known of our involvement and found a way…no that's impossible."
"Found a way to what?” The unicorn took another agitated step toward her compatriots, ready to throttle the answer out of the often long-winded pony. “Onyx, what did he do?!" Panic gripped her throat, and she had to stop herself and breathe. This was no time to lose her cool. True, each one of the seven mares of the Sundown Syndicate had more combat capability than a dozen griffons. She was still no fool to believe they wouldn't be overwhelmed eventually.
"The only way to disrupt the local ley lines would be to have a team of unicorns create a Warp." The statuesque mare muttered just loud enough to be overheard through the muffled, distant battle outside. "I mean, even a pair of significantly powerful-"
"TERRA! WE GOT TROUBLE!"
Crystal Halter pounded down the stone steps leading further up the bastion, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The somewhat portly mare nearly collapsed as she came to a halt on the landing.
"WHAT. NOW?!" The crimson-maned mare screeched, spinning on the out-of-breath mare.
"P…" she starts, then takes a gulp. "Ponies! Inside the fortress!" She pauses to take another breath. "Not. Ours!" Her rear nearly collapsed onto the landing.
Both Terra Burn and Onyx Light turned to look at one another, shock mirrored in each of their features.
"Did They send backup? Why? Until this night, everything was going according to orders…"
Onyx broke eye contact.
"Do we know who they are? Who sent them…oh…Oh!" She said with sudden chilliness. "I think we are in trouble."
Terra did not understand what the mare was getting at and voiced it.
"What do you mean?" She said worriedly.
"I mean, that our sudden lack of an escape route and their appearance can not be a coincidence. But by the Grace of the Sun, I can't think of a mercenary band that has unicorns that are powerful enough to do that.” She paused, brow furrowing. “I am loath to think that the griffons are suddenly fighting fire with fire. Why, the knowledge to do so…oh…oh, buck me." The white pony, eyes widening, bolted. Tearing past Crystal's hunched-over form, she nearly flew up the stairs.
"What in the Sun's Light is going on?!" Terra rushed after her, not even bothering to help her down comrade. Perhaps if she laid off all the sweets she insisted on having, she wouldn't be gasping for her life now.
“Teaches you to dig through somepony’s packs.”
"It is what I feared. But for them to be here…it's just not possible."
The Terra Burn was the last to join the other five members of their band, only a little out of breath as she took position to survey the fortress herself.
The pleasure in knowing the climb up to the top had barely winded her, pushed to the back of her mind as she tried in vain to see what the others were talking about. “Curse this short body of mine!”
As she approached the parapet on the western side, the good feeling, no matter how distant, evaporated like water on a stone in the desert from her as she witnessed the scene below.
Explosions rocked the inside of the keep as an entire platoon of Griffon soldiers, bearing the crest and colors of the Prince of Griffonia, wreaked havoc amongst the various fortifications Emil and his commanders had their own troops erect. The shoddy workmareship of those hasty bulwarks seemed like brittle bones now.
It shouldn't have mattered too much for an attack coming from outside, but the current opposition was not just outside the walls, but inside dive-bombing defenses. Raining arrows and plucked stones atop defenders. Outright killing those that ponied those locations.
Some tried to fight back, of course. Taking to the air to engage them, but there was a clear distinction in skill between the two groups, and the mercenaries were being slaughtered in rapid succession before most could get a few paces above the ground.
However, what had caught everypony's attention on the little tower, was the three equines in the bright polished armor of the Equestrian Armed Force, bringing the same level of savagery Gerhard's troops were.
It seems that the Prince had indeed borrowed a page from Rosebreast's book.
A diminutive earth pony welding a pair of axes was throwing herself at their opponents with reckless abandon. But it wasn't without reason. Behind her was another soldier, a unicorn like themselves, firing shot after shot of the simple spell: Magic Missile . Effectively suppressing the enemy from overwhelming them.
Every fortification in their path was blasted to bits in the blink of an eye.
The third, and final pony in the squad of three was somehow both tall and hard to identify. The figure was simply moving way too fast to get a good look as they skewered one opponent, and flowed into lobbing the head off another in such fluid grace that it seemed the unknown equine danced despite the bulky shield they used to block blows coming from other directions, as if they knew when and where their enemy would strike.
A blast of air pushed all six of them back suddenly, putting Terra on the defensive as she scanned the ground for a source of the attack.
"Is there another bucking squad?!"
"LOOK!" Stone Tempest, a green-eyed, stone-furred mare dressed in similar armor to her own, stabbed a finger in the air, and the silver pony followed it to a blurring orange and silvered form rushing to the center of the formation. Sudden hope soared only to die immediately when instead of crashing into the group, the figure came to a complete stop next to the flowing warrior in a burst of air that pushed their opposition away long enough for the accompanying griffons that fought with them to surge past and engage the enemy.
Motion, sound, even her breathing came to a stop as she recognized who the flier actually was, and her heart sank. Second Lieutenant Spitfire, of the Wonderbolts was here running recon for the invading force. "What is she doing here?!"
"THAT'S SHINING ARMOR!" Shouted Frost Lace, startling her.
"W-what?" Terra croaked, as she took a closer look at the now still pony, a stallion of all things, with a handheld telescope and gasped.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, an imposing figure next to the shorter mares and griffons that surrounded him.
His two-tone blue mane poured out at the crest of his helm like a cascading waterfall of saturated color. One hand held a broadsword of considerable size. The bulky shield in the other bore scratches, but also the emblem of Equestria. Two alicorns encircle the pair of celestial bodies of the Sun and Moon.
"It.." she swallowed back the lump in her throat with little success. "It is him." Memories of seeing the stallion on the training fields during Hoofcamp. His movements from then and now were quite different from what she could remember. A part of her wondered where he had learned to dance, for lack of a better term, like that with such heavy equipment.
Immediately on her confirmation, the group exploded into near hysterics. Each accusing the others of some detail they had forgotten that had clearly, at least to themselves, pointed the Lieutenant in their direction.
No pony asked the big question, though. How had that wretched Princess known to send him here, and were there more?
"Enough." It was not Terra's voice that demanded silence, but Shadowed Dawn who spoke up. Her heavy tone instilled absolute obedience in the others, as one by one, each quieted and gave her their full attention.
The smokey gray mare stood impassively at the parapet, staring down at the officer and his subordinates with contempt in her red eyes.
"We can sit here, and blame one another for whatever grievances we have with each other. Or we can come up with a plan of withdrawal." She continued. "Terra. Is it true? Is he as capable a fighter as the rumors say?"
Taking a deep breath, the named mare answered her warily.
"I have been on only two campaigns with him before I resigned my commission.” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “As well as trained with him during my induction into the EAF. From what I have seen, he is more than capable of beating any one of us.” She shook her head at the impossibility of his shields knocking back arrows and magic blasts alike. “Possibly all of us, if it came to that." She grimaced. "However, this may be worse.” Pointing at him, she tried to explain the real problem. “He's a natural leader. Something Equestrian Command never did, considering his status. Before I had left, they had tried and failed to get him barred on several occasions. Rumor has it that it took the Princess’s direct intervention to keep him from being tossed out after some event in Zebrica.”
"Nepotism. Of course." Shadowed said with scorn. "Why do you say this is worse?"
"If that force of vultures is doing what I think they are doing, then he is commanding this raid. I'm afraid his ability to lead is what is the true issue." Shaking her head, Terra spoke quicker. "The Translocate spell has been rendered ineffective, which means he and his team know we are here already, and likely preemptively struck by knocking out our ability to leave quickly.” Her hands balled into fists. “How and why he is here, I cannot even begin to guess at. Right now, I fear we have no time to wonder how. You are correct, Princeps . We must move quickly."
"I see-"
"What is that?!" Gestured Lightening Dare.
As one the group turned back toward where she pointed to the Equestrian ponies. In front of Shining Armor, was a weird warp of blue and pinks swirling about themselves. The stallion himself bore a defensive posture, and when Terra raised the looking glass to her eye again, she could see fear on his face.
Behind him, the only other unicorn of the party paled visibly under her helm. Strangely, Spitfire seemed to be very pleased with what was going on.
"What is that…" repeated Terra quietly.
"It doesn't matter." Shadowed spoke up after a minute. "Whether the Princess is aware of our organization's activities or not, we must flee. By any means necessary. To fight now would be foolhardy."
"It's going to take too long for the ripples to die off…" Muttered Onyx. She was doing that annoying thing she always does when she worries. Gnawing on her bottom lip.
"Then more conventional means we'll have to be taken in order to escape, but escape we must." Their leader looked each other in the eye as she spoke. "Terra. Lightning. The pair of you will go through what we have. Make sure no paperwork that cannot be taken with us survives. You should both be able to at least make a fire spell. Onyx, continue to try and establish a connection.” She cut her hand across the space between her and the white mare. “I know it is highly unlikely, but if anypony can do it, it's you."
Turning, she regarded their two, up till now, mute party members.
"Solar. Beats. I want you both to start looking for hidden pathways out of the tower. This structure was built in a time of war, and the griffons were always paranoid about the sky being robbed from them. I don't care if it's a crack in the wall, we can widen it to our needs. So do your best. Worst case scenario, we have to tie bed sheets together and make a run for it." With a heavy sigh, she turned back to Terra Burn again. "And get Crystal to help you. Sun cursed pony is still not back up here."
"That…that is the situation, Princess." Shining swallowed thickly. His throat was dry from giving a very rough report in the middle of a battlefield and to his very ruler, no less.
A tap on his shoulder, and he found Vorder offering his flask to him. Stifling an incredulous chuckle, he waved him off and returned his attention to Princess Celestia, willing his face into passivity.
The white ruler of his people regarded him thoughtfully. Cadence looked like she wished to move through the gate, an impossibility as it would only fail and comfort him. With weary realization, he remembered he was already covered in an abundant amount of blood, and was likely the cause for the fear in her eyes. He slowly shook his head at her, and she relaxed slightly.
Their bond, magically placed within them, allowed a certain level of awareness between the pair. As the comforting aura he sent through it seemed to relax his love somewhat.
"I see." Began the Princess, her eyes darting back and forth as she took stock of his situation. "Shining Armor, at this point, it is too late for you to back out of this mess.” Her frown very much said she wanted that to be an option. “While I can see what you were thinking,” her eyes hardened, “this was rather foolish. Has Gerhard made any promises?" Relief seemed to flood through him. Perhaps he wouldn't be the first stallion in five hundred years to have his head removed after all.
"He has pledged to support me in their court, made a written proclamation that I carry, for the boon the king will owe me and my team upon our return. We hope to be done-"
Dodging to the side, he narrowly avoided a barbed crossbow bolt that buried itself in the pitted stone to the side of him, tearing a ragged chunk out as it did so.
"What did I tell you about paying attention!" The stallion roared as he thrust the point of his blade at the intending attacker. How the griffon had managed to sneak up that close was a mystery he feared would not be solved. Pestle's bolt of magic struck the griffon in the chest before he could reload for a second shot, the spell eating a hole through his armor and flesh and exploding out the ratty armor in the back.
Dropping like a stone from the rooftop on which he perched, Shining huffed and turned away as the sound of bones crunching echoed once the corpse met the cobblestone street beneath him.
Cadence's face visibly blanched, but Princess Celestia merely cocked an eyebrow.
"Vorder,” he growled, “spread them out. I would rather that not happen again if we can help it." The big griffon nodded, a bit of a smirk on his face. He spun on his paw and began shouting.
"Alright, you lackwits, ya heard the pony. Get your tail feathers in gear and start a-huntin'." Making shooing, motions, he clapped his hands. He took off with some of the rest. Val remained behind, likely as a guard and to relay commands if needed.
"I see your ability to command is not limited to Equestrians, Lieutenant," Celestia remarked dryly. For a moment, she seemed to stew in silence, choosing her next words carefully. "I am deeply disturbed by the events that led up to this moment, however. Even more so by your willingness to go along with it. I would advise you to have a well thought out argument for when you return to Canterlot with your report, Lieutenant." Her gaze went from stone to diamond. "For both myself and Command."
"Celestia, he couldn't-" Cadence began, but the Sun monarch swung that glare at her, and she choked on her words.
"Be that as it may,” her eyes lingered on his marefriend for a moment, “I too admit curiosity to the events occurring in the north. This is now a sanctioned op." Those same magenta orbs looked past him to the near-ruined fortress behind. "Fort Bollwerk…it has been a long time since I laid eyes on that fortress…" Shaking her head, she redirected her focus on him. "Lieutenant Shining Armor. You are to recover any information about the team of ponies working with the Griffonian bandits, as much as possible. I want at least a prisoner if you can manage that.
"I also wish to have a full report ready upon your return, with Orion Falls in hand if you can somehow accomplish that as well. Though,” she scoffed, “something tells me you may find that more difficult.” Her voice was a strange mix of scorn and wry amusement. “Owing to the fact that King Bloodbeak is covering for him for reasons we cannot know at this time, I won't hold it against you if he does not return in cuffs.”
Shining worked to keep his jaw from slacking. She was essentially giving up on the entire reason for him and his team to have been out here, and she was well aware of it.
"I know that look, Lieutenant. Rest assured, I've not given up on his capture.” She shook her head, a rueful smile on her lips. “However, the events on which you have spoken, unfortunately, take more precedence than one lone colt. Should the operation of these ponies be more widespread and disruptive than we realize, many of our citizens both abroad and at home may be under threat.” Celestia grimaced sourly. “Also, if Griffonian nobles suspect, no matter how ludicrous it may be, that we are somehow responsible for these mercenaries' rogue actions, our best opportunity now is to provide aid to stop any aggression that might aim our way.” The Sun Monarch nodded. “As you are doing now. Thus, cutting the head off the proverbial snake. It is unfortunate that Orion is now only a secondary requirement in the face of this."
He nodded slowly. It made sense. A cold and calculated sense, but he figured it was the best choice in light of circumstances. Glancing around him showed his soldiers also thoughtfully nodding along. Even Val Shadow-wing, who had remained back with his own small group of agents, seemed to agree as his eyes darted back and forth, thoughtfully.
"It will be as you say, your Highness," Shining responded, slightly bowing.
His stern expression must have shown the inner turmoil about the change in operation because the alicorn chuckled richly.
"Rest assured, Lieutenant. I'm sure that colt will turn up eventually, either by himself or by you finding him. Perhaps…" She paused before shaking her head. "Yes, perhaps I was too hasty in sending you out as I did. Then again, it is all too likely that Harmony has been the guiding force in this foray into the north." She shook her head once more. "I shall leave that for academics and history itself to determine."
Shining did not know how to feel about that, but his candid report and the informality of the situation left him with the feeling that he should not press his luck with questions to her motives, at least not out loud. He was essentially getting away with what many might interpret as dereliction of duty.
"Lieutenant Shining Armor," he practically snapped to attention, "you are hereby ordered to render assistance to Prince Gerhard and his troops to the best of your ability. However, your primary duty is to capture and secure the rogue mercenaries assisting the bandits in opposition to the Griffonian nation. Failing that, secure any information they may have on their persons at all cost at worst."
"By your Command, your Highness." Driving his sword into the soft soil where cobblestone had long been uprooted, he ignored his desire to wince at what he might have done to the tip of his sword and saluted smartly, fist over his heart.
Nodding, the Sun princess turned to Cadence.
"Sever the connection, Cadence. You and I,” there was a dangerous tone to her voice, “should talk."
"But-"
"Cadence." There was no shout, or raising of her voice at all. Instead, a strange sort of calm seemed to have washed through her. "Lieutenant Armor must do his duty, and you will distract him from that if we linger." His mare friend grimaced.
It was no secret to Shining that Princess Celestia did not approve of their relationship. Nor was it a secret, to him at least, that the ruler of Equestria had her own designs. For his sister, no less.
His Love's confession to manipulating him and his sister for her own ends had hurt deeply. There was no getting around that, especially back then. However, as he reflected on what she had gone through, he understood to a degree how desperate she was. In truth, it was a lot of pressure on him, not only to perform the duties she had hoped to pin on him but also to accept her for the weight of centuries she held over him.
What finally tipped the scales in her favor, was the memory of the regret in her eyes, the way she stood apart from him when she confessed all she had done. Despite it all, her willingness to ruin what she had with him for what was right and true won him over.
Celestia, on the other hand, had earned an ire from him that, in his youth, he did not believe he possessed. He did not trust her with Twilight. True, the filly was exceptionally gifted; he was not blind to her talents, but the burdens placed upon her shoulders were too great for one so young. And as the years have marched on, those duties only seemed to grow in his eyes. Watching his little Twily grow up in flashes due to his absence, showed what his parents were missing.
There was a heaviness to her gait now. She smiled far less exuberantly than she once could have. Her focus on learning was almost crushing, leaving little time for other matters.
Now he could admit, this may have only been due to her growing up. He himself put away foalish things as he got older, as is only natural for a pony reaching maturity, but it still seemed to have been stripped from her, rather than letting it go at a normal pace.
It made him distrust the mare he once held total faith in. Judging her every action for the hidden meanings and intent had become second nature, and deep down, he hated it.
"You are right." Turning, Cadence looked at him with unshed tears. “Be safe, my Heart." He nodded, letting a smile form on his lips. She did not need to hear from him. She smiled back, and the view portal created by the Sorde Val swiftly sucked in on itself till it vanished in a pop.
For a few moments, Shining simply stared at where the portal had been.
"Buck me, I can see why yer so loyal, Lieutenant." Earnest, her voice startled him from the regret that filled him.
"What?"
"The Princess, Mi Amore. She's…wow." She continued. Grinning at him.
He snorted at her. ”Really?’
"Sergeant,” he began.
"Sir, the Sergeant isn't wrong. You are one lucky stallion. How did you manage it?" Pestle's eyes radiated jealousy, and he chuckled in response despite their situation.
"You can ask her if you ever meet her," he groused, not liking the direction this was going in. They had all become far too relaxed since their mission began, a mission that had been near chaos since it began.
"Is that a proposal, Sir?" Earnest grinned, wiggling her eyebrows as best she could under the heavy helm she wore.
Shining snorted in exasperation. "Mares."
"Lieutenant Armor, perhaps we should get underway and achieve both of our goals this night." Val had stepped forward, his long slim blade held low and ready in his grip.
"Right, right. Apologies, Hauptleute. What is-"
"Sir!" Pestle interrupted him suddenly. "We got company!"
Whipping his head up, he saw what she did. Unfortunately, during the lull in the fighting and his brief meeting with the Princess, the defending griffons of the keep had managed to rally their troops and began to swoop in on their position.
Already, he could see many had taken up position on top of decayed roofs and crumbling walls, the iron sights of their crossbows swiftly being trained on them. More were landing on the street below, drawing swords and unslinging bucklers as they raced forward on armored paws to close on his group.
"This will be a problem," Val said casually, as if rain had suddenly been called in the morning's forecast. Shining glanced over to see just the tiny bit of upturn in the corner of his beak. The mad-griffon was enjoying this.
“Come to think of it. They've all been grinning like loons since this buckstorm began. They're all crazy.”
Rather than comment, he raised a full shield, turning his attention back to the enemy. The sound of dozens of tense strings snapped in the air, and seconds later, through the connected magic, he felt the distant impacts of the broadheads as they slammed uselessly into the conjured barrier between them.
"My question is, where in Tartarus did they all come from?" Earnest said, shifting her grip on the axes she held. "I thought you lot put a sizable dent in their numbers?"
"We did. However, we believe that while we had clashed with the main host, and, as you said, put a dent in their numbers. We also knew that they had more than one force in the field." He cocked his head and studied the magical fortification that surrounded them and nodded. "This is impressive, Lieutenant. You managed to surround all of us with it."
It was Shining's turn to smirk.
"Couldn't let potential snipers take shots at us from beh-" Just then, two more twangs sounded out, and the dull strikes of a pair of crossbow bolts slammed into the shield from behind. "Well, that, actually." Shaking his head, he continued. "They are trying to keep us pinned down. Wait for my mana to drain out. Alright ponies and griffs, we are going to have to do this the hard way. Spitfire, Storming, Val, we are dropping ranks for the time being. I don't want them knowing which amongst us are officers.”
Spitfire gave him a pointed look. He could only shrug in return. He could only hope the enemy was really dumb.
"When I drop my shield, I am going to flex it outward, attempting to ricochet their assault back at them. When I do, you rush to the sky as fast as you can, gain the altitude advantage, and divide their attention. After that, you are free to engage the best you see fit, though try and work together and follow Val and his soldiers' lead at least in the initial engagement." He frowned as the next volley seemed to strike harder than he expected.
Was there more arbalest than before?
"What about you? You are sitting prey down here in the alley. The buildings and wall have you effectively boxed in." Val responded, giving him a wary look.
"That is where Pestle comes in." Turning, he gave her with a thin-lipped smile. Situations like this, for some reason, excited him, and he suspected he knew why. “Great, I must be just as crazy as the bucking griffons.”
"Do you have anything in your list of spells for a low-yield bombardment?” He asked. “Something that won't backblast us would be nice."
The specialist shared his grimace. "I do believe I have something in mind, though I am not one hundred percent certain about there being no back blast,” she paused, her head nodding, “but it…should work.Though it will be a chaotic mess. The cavitation is still going and its relatively fresh. I’m not certain what all will happen."
"It'll have to be good enough.” Shining hummed. “Val? I'd advise giving us a few seconds before your return assault. I'll just throw up another barrier to vent what pressure may come our way upwards." He turned to Earnest Hearts then, "Earnest, your role will be very simple-."
"Throw myself at the leftovers; I got it." She chuckled. "Like always, I am picking up the pieces."
"More like smashing it in tinier pieces." Giggled Storming Wind, who had swooped in to get orders. Everypony laughed, except for Spitfire, who had taken her orders without remark.
That was unlike the mare.
"Something wrong, Spitfire?" He asked, hoping that another breakdown in decorum was not coming.
"No, sir…" She said with little heart.
"Something is wrong, and I need to know what. Please." He added that last almost belatedly.
"I just….I just can't believe the Princess went along with this!" The sun yellow mare suddenly shouted, her arms shooting out to gesture at everything. "This is ridiculous. We should have never come this far or done even half the stuff we've done. Now it's all but sanctioned, and coming from her, it might as well be."
"To be fair, I don't think any of us thought this was going to go as far as it did." He replied, noticing through his magic that the volleys were still getting stronger. " Don't worry, Spitfire. I'm likely going to get yelled at by command when we get home anyway."
Her halfhearted smirk at his flippant remark faded quickly.
"In for an apple, in for a bushel, I suppose." She cocked her head. "What?" She questioned in response to Earnest's quirky smile.
"Never thought I'd hear you use a farm euphemism. Where did you pick that up?"
"Oh, that. I grew up in Bale. On the east coast of Equestria. You pick up a thing or two in a farming community like that." Shaking her head, she gave Shining a fierce look. "Alright, Sir. I'm ready to bust some heads. Me and Storming will take them out, no sweat." She gave Val an appraising look. "What do you say? Those that take out the most buys the other group their first three rounds?"
For the first time since Shining had met the Captain, the stoic smokey griffon allowed himself a full smile.
"I would take that bet. It's a win-win, to be sure, regardless of the outcome. Should you kill more, my purse will not be scoured too deeply by just a few of you. However, should my team and I win, we would welcome Equestrian coin to liven our evening."
"You're on!" They clapped hands together.
The white stallion was both pleased and taken aback by the Second Lieutenant's sudden abandonment of her principles. It was likely due to the Princess's acquiescence to the situation rather than any personal change of heart on the mare's part, yet it was good to see her finally loosen up.
Snorting, he turned his attention back to their obstacle.
"Alright. Every…one,” he stumbled on the word, “get ready!"
Onyx Light frowned in dissatisfaction. The assignment had been a distasteful shackle upon her. Time and effort, she believed, were better left to helping with the escape.
But Shadowed Dawn would not relent. The black-maned mare had to admit, her reasoning why was sound.
The longer the Lieutenant and his team remained bogged down by opposition, the better chance they all had of getting away without a chance of capture. Her talents in the field of magic only made her the more obvious choice.
However, she had no idea how to accomplish the goal without giving away her position. Onyx refused to become a target of the orange Pegasus with a direct assault that would no doubt fail the moment she launched it.
But what was she to do?
It would seem fate had decided to throw her a jeweled crown for once.
The moment she spotted the bandits and heard their rallying cries as they poured out of the guard spires that lined the inner keep walls, and a thought blossomed within her.
Her eyes had noticed the weapons they carried immediately. In particular, the crossbows.
In a brilliant moment of fortune and chance, an idea struck her. Their course took them close to the tower she stood upon, and so, as the hoard of lesser creatures passed by on their no doubt one-way trip to Tartarus, she cast Patiens Constructum est Potentia .
The spell was designed to slowly boost a weapon's power temporarily for a set period of time till its peak. Once the peak of the spell was reached, it would fizzle out completely before the next shot or strike could be performed.
It was the perfect spell in a situation like this, especially with the party of ponies and griffons distracted amongst themselves as they seemed to be.
It was, sadly, not enough.
The moment Shining Armor had noticed the approaching force, he not only threw up a shield, but an all encompassing one at that. Worse? It seemed to be at full strength to boot as the quarrels bounced uselessly off the blue-tinted fortification.
Still, with hope, the worthless pigeons could at least keep them cornered in the alleyway as her compatriots secured an exit out of their predicament.
Much to her surprise, the shield pulsed outward slightly before dropping, and two of their party, the pegasi and the gaggle of the Prince's soldiers, shot into the air.
"Are they really going to fight-"
Whatever thought she was going to finish, was swept away by both the blinding flash of light and the subsequent boom that toppled her backward into the tower's protective parapet.
"What under the Sun?!" She screeched, clawing at the ground for purchase.
Scrambling to her hooves, she clutched at the edge and stared in shock as she peered over at the scene below.
The entire alley was scorched clean. Whatever attacking forces that had been on the ground with them, were simply no longer there. Burned away by whatever attack the crazy stallion had launched at them.
"Time….time to go…" She muttered as she spun from the waist-high wall and dashed for the stairs. Apparently, Shining Armor would not be deterred by a measly two hundred griffons.
It was long past time for them to get the buck out of there.
Val Shadow-wing was not prone to emotional displays as much as other griffons may have been. He had always been an oddity amongst his kind, as he chose to stay reserved as often as possible. Dressing in subdued colors, if not just jet black, at all times, was simply one aspect of his nature displayed outwardly.
It helped that Prince Gerhard had a similar color choice for his own personal soldiers.
Yet, as he turned from his furious flight skyward, he couldn't help but gape a little in awe at the destruction below.
"Pestle Break…is one pony I would certainly not like to upset." Even the tone in his head was mild.
Below, the entire stretch of alley had been scoured by mage fire. What hadn't been blown completely away was aflame or smoldering.
Many of the griffons who had been on the walls had been knocked back and splayed out on their tail feathers, dazed. At this height and with the moon's help, he could see shock painted on their faces.
"HAHA!" Way to go, Pestle!" Crowed the yellow-orange pegasus beside him. Her sour attitude had practically vanished now that the battle for the keep was truly underway.
"You do realize that does not count in favor of your bet, yes?"
Spitfire gaped at him a few moments before sputtering. "B-b-b-but-!"
"You should have included her in your wager.” He gestured with a smirk. “As it stands, it is you two,” he pointed between the pair of ponies in the air with them, “versus us. Whoever kills the most…wins." Behind him he could feel the eagerness in his team.
The second in command of Equestria's expedition to his nation actually growled at him.
"Fine! But we are still going to win!" She flexed her wings, and the hidden blades that were buried in the feathers were shown in the moonlight with a bright polished gleam. "Let's go Storming!"
"But…the Lieutenant said to wait on-"
"I said, let's go!" The yellow mare, in that strange not quite leather, not quite steel, armor, dove forward and down toward the enemy struggling to get their bearings.
Her companion looked at him shrugging helplessly, and took off after her.
Chuckling to himself, he turned his head to the rest of his squad.
"You have your orders," he paused. "Now, keep an eye on our guests from the South. It seems they are…spirited."
That got a round of chuckles from them, the first sounds they had made all night. Excellent discipline.
Smirking, he dove down in hot pursuit, already noticing that Spitfire was nearly in striking range of her first target.
"My, she is a quick one."
Shining coughed and spat the acrid spell smoke that had gotten into his lungs.
"I said low yield!" He shouted into the smoke and haze brought about by Pestle's not-quite-low-powered artillery strike.
"Sorry! I got nervous!" She called back, somewhere behind him and to the right. In the thick acrid smell of smoke, a byproduct of superheating the atmosphere around them, it was difficult to tell where everypony was.
"Sound off!" He shouted.
"I'm here!" Earnest called, bursting from the billowing smoke to his left. “Damnit, Pestle! I can't make tinier pieces if there is nothing left to break."
Shining wanted to smile as a bit of her country heritage leaked through in her agitated speech.
"I'm sorry!" Pestle Break cried again, stepping up to join them. Her own armor smoked in places. Some of the cloth looked to have been singed by the backblast of her attack.
Shining had not expected so much force from the small mare. Early on, when he and her had linked magic to create the Warp in the ley lines, he had sensed her strength and had been impressed. Surveying what little he could, he was impressed.
"I feel woozy." She mumbled, putting a gloved hand to her head and stumbling slightly.
"In your nervousness, you used too much mana. That was dangerous, Pestle." Other than the slim sword in her other hand, the mare could no longer be expected to bring another strike against the enemy in her current state. "How is your sword arm?" He asked, already strategizing for the next portion of this battle, regretting that he did not have Spitfire or Storming there to lend a hand.
It's an unfortunate consequence of having too green a team he supposed. There was no real coordination. Unused to what each member could actually do.
"I can fight, sir." He winced. First the Second Lieutenant's slip up, now hers. The whole point of dispensing with rank in a combat situation was so he didn't have a target painted on his back. Now he was just hoping that nopony was alive to hear her mistake.
"Take the rear.” He pointed Pestle behind him. “Earnest, take point. I'll provide cover when I can, but don't rely on me." As Shining spoke, his horn burst into life, and a different kind of smog roiled outward from him.
Ager Verrunt was a spell that seemed to come to him as second nature, almost as easy as creating various types of shields with his magic.
The casting of this spell flooded the field of the caster's position with a portion of his magical essence. Allowing the caster the ability to see their environment in their mind's eye. This invocation gave him a complete view of everything around him, despite the smoke, fire, and rubble.
He had complete command of the field, though it was not perfect. Enemy and Friendlies were both more blobs with limbs than actually well-defined subjects. Thus the reason for him wanting his remaining troops so close.
This particular formula was restricted only to those in the military, as it was dangerous in the wrong hands. Not in any perceived deadliness of the skill, but that civilians in the past had used it for anything from a heist to downright murder.
With a start, he realized the shape of a likely enemy had survived Pestle's overpowered onslaught, and was rushing to strike at Earnest from her left. Instinct took over, and the blue shield that needed no thought to create exploded between her and her would-be assailant.
With a start, when the mare heard flesh and armor strike conjured metal, she spun and lashed out quickly with her ax in an undercut pattern. The shield faded away just in time for her weapon to take the stunned avian in the chest. Ripping open poorly maintained leather and iron.
That same arc of the heavy instrument of death also took the griffon in the beak, silencing any chance of a death cry as it cleaved right through to the top of the skull, sending a disgusting display of viscera and blood in an arc over her.
The poor bandit was dead before he could react.
"Thanks, Shining!" Called Earnest, already sweeping her eyes through the smoky environment for her next target, and ignoring the pattern of blood cascading onto her armor.
"You are welcome. Head on a swivel. We are on our own here!" Turning ahead, he drew his sword as he noted more foes appearing in his field of influence.
"They must be dropping in from the walls. Shame Pestle's attack hadn't gotten them all." Shrugging his shoulders, and adjusting his grip on the physical shield in his hand, proceeding forward he grimaced, the night it seemed was only just beginning.
Emil pulled himself from the ground at the base of the stairs of the tower he was leaving. With the Whorses unwilling to lend assistance in the defense of the castle. He figured there was only one other choice available to him.
Escape.
Leave everything behind. He could do it, had done it before. His pappy always said that gold was only worth the fool's life. Gold could be obtained again, but life could not.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was jolted off his paws as a shock wave through the stone shuttered everything loose, including what felt like his beak.
"What in the bloody five realms of Tartarus was that?!" Dust choked his throat at the end, making it sound like he had been struck in the throat mid-question.
The query, of course, was rhetorical. No one was there to answer him.
"Well, I'm not going to find any answers here, lying on my feathers. Might as well get to the roof and rally what's left of my troops." A good distraction should give him enough time to turn his tail feathers and run. With a grunt, the lithe Griffin pushed himself up and bolted for the next set of doors.
With a sinking feeling, the old bandit leader suspected that Prince Gerhard had brought something new to their little fight, and the odds were increasingly falling out of his favor.
"Captain Pipper?" Gerhard maintained a smooth tone, though, in truth, his heart was beating harder now than at the outset of the battle.
A tremendous explosion had cracked the air like thunder, and the eastern side of the ancient fortress blew outward in a radiant green and blue light that shot debris everywhere.
According to reports so far, none of his soldiers had been injured, but this had certainly put a pause on the action as both sides tried to figure out what had exactly happened.
“Well, except for the siege crew.” He chortled to himself. The plucky force hadn't stopped for a moment. Battered and rife with injuries, the dedicated armsgriffons had not stopped for even a moment.
The cry of said soldiers echoed as they worked feverishly to reload their siege equipment, and the sound of boulders striking fortified walls rebounded. Those points of contact with stone on stone reduced to rubble the ancient fortifications in such a satisfying way that it put a smile on his face early on. However, that was merely thrilling, as his campaign against the insurrection of his father's kingdom had become a steady beat of the saying: “day in and day out”.
No, what had set his heart to racing was the sudden explosion that now set his teeth on edge and brought most of the battle to a grinding halt. The thrill he bore, all but evaporated in the near blinding glare that had briefly hushed the battlefield in its brilliance and lit up the night's sky.
"I am not sure, my Prince." His war leader said, hesitancy clear in his voice. "Perhaps…perhaps the ponies?"
"Which ones?" He asked, worry tinged his tone.
"Oh, I'd say the ones that took out that wall, your Highness." Following his captain's gaze, he rediscovered the breach in the eastern wall, now looking like a gaping wound in an exhausted animal on its last legs. He cocked his head, considering.
"Captain, do you think that is an invitation?" He said with a calculated smile.
In a normal conflict, griffons chose to attack from the sky. However, in this case, despite the siege, the defenders of the ancient keep seem to be doing a decent job of keeping the skies over them empty of his forces, save for what was already inside. Even weakened as they were, they were doing an admirable job of repelling them.
The new hole in their wall offered a surprising opportunity.
"Why, your Highness.” Captain Piper said chipperly. “I do believe that is, so kind of them to open the window for us." The Prince could hear the mirth and enthusiasm in his voice.
"Well, we wouldn't want to be the rude guests, after all. Let's go say hello to our hosts." Both grinned before his Captain turned and barked orders that excluded him from attending.
“Of course, they all get to have fun while I sit and watch.”
It had been decided early on that the prince would not be participating in the main battle. Shining armor wanted to preserve the heir to the throne of Griffonia despite his protests that he would be fine—he had been fine the entire time. Unfortunately, his command staff agreed wholeheartedly.
"Oh, well. Perhaps someone will escape, and I can have some fun."
Pestle was exhausted. The sluggish way her limbs reacted to danger was a clear indication, as she stumbled from one half-remembered sword form to another, barely turning blades from her own throat that should have long since retired from the field.
Leaping back, she parried an attack to her midsection and thrust forward in an almost laughably bad riposte that nearly missed the mark entirely.
The ruddy brown griffon in ratty leather armor went down with a choking gargle, blood pouring out of her mouth as the pony's blade slipped free of the enemy's throat allowing the body to join their comrades in a heap in the ruined alley.
That had been a lucky strike and nothing more.
The mare's drilling instructor would have been appalled at the clear stagnation of her sword skills. And they had done more than most to ensure the young enlisted at the time had more training due to her lack of retention.
It was also why, the moment she graduated basic training, she tried to switch tracks and go into the artillery division instead. She preferred to keep targets at a sterile distance and their broken forms from close inspection.
Pestle Break was uncomfortable with engaging the enemy in so up close a fashion, only discovered during training with another would-be soldier screaming in her face as she was pummeled with a practice sword over and over again
The truth was, despite her chosen occupation, she didn't really like killing. Of having to take a life in the defense of her nation and others. In fact, she was terrified of it, really. That unwillingness to cause death, even for the sake of her own life, had made her unfit for either the Infantry or really the Artillery program once they realized that she was purposely missing certain targets.
The idea of keeping the enemy mostly out of sight has not worked. Even if they were only practice dummies, her mind's eye still injected real ponies in their place. Pestle could see their bodies get torn apart.
She was a washout, or near enough. If not for Captain Sureshot, the commander of the Twelfth Artillery Brigade out of New Baltimore, she would have been fast-tracked out of the service under Article Three. The dreaded Other than Honorable Discharge practically stamped to her forehead.
That was a black mark that would have followed her anywhere for years to come.
Instead of a summary dismissal, she was offered a position in the ROVERs, a division in the Equestrian military that focused on rescues and scouting missions rather than direct conflict.
This position allowed her to actually utilize her gift in healing, something she had tried to buck due to the rebellious belief that Cutiemarks do not define a pony.
She had been sorely wrong it would seem.
Luckily for Pestle, she excelled, given the wide variety of skills she had earned along the way. Rising to the rank of Specialist quickly with her unique skill set in potion making and field medicine had secured her from outright failure.
Her father had been correct. She had always been meant to be a healer, not a killer. Her time attempting to push it away had only been a waste of effort. It seemed Harmony had been trying to guide her all along. In this case, kicking and screaming.
Now, with what was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission, the mare had killed more people than she ever thought she would. That left a pit in her stomach that kept her awake at night, and nightmares plagued what rest she could attain on her own.
It had gotten so bad that she had been dosing herself with a diluted form of Sleepweed and Burden's Rose. Both acted as a sleeping agent that managed to put her out quickly, if dreamlessly.
Tonight would mean she doubled the dose from here on out.
The sound of metal on stone drew her attention behind her, snapping her from her wandering thoughts.
Pestle spun just in time to see a blue ethereal shield form between herself and a barely dressed griffon wielding a great ax that had been aimed at her head. The thick blade struck the barrier with a hollow gong and rebounded, throwing her would-be killer back.
Knowing what was about to happen, she thrust forward as the shield vanished, allowing her blade to plunge into the chest of the now-stunned bandit. That weapon he bore slipped from his grasp and clanged to the cobblestone street. His body quickly followed it.
She grimaced, not for the first time grateful that pre-battle jitters kept her from eating anything because she would have surely doubled over twice by now. Still, the taste of bile sat snuggly on the back of her tongue like a pile of rotted vegetables.
She looked on in pity as the enemy tried in vain to stem the tide of blood pouring from the chest wound her blade had given him.
It was widely understood that griffons did not value the lives of their drakes like Equestrians did their stallions. Yet, she could not help the pang in her heart every time she saw a male fall. No matter the species, it threatened to break her every single time.
She shook her head, blinking stinging tears away. "This is no time for distractions." Turning once more, she saw her savior somehow still in action despite the near rescue.
Shining Armor had been an impressive figure the moment she had met him at the Canterlot train station, what felt like a lifetime ago now.
However, as she watched in weary fascination, the pony could not help the slight gape that parted her lips at what she was bearing witness to.
Standing among a pile of corpses, the mission commander…flowed among his attackers. Barely being dislodged from his position on the steadily growing hill.
It was certainly not the standard Equestrian forces swordsmanship that was for certain. Instead of using the long sword in his hand to deliver powerful strikes to exposed portions of the body, he struck with lacerating blows in arcing patterns that allowed him to transition from one opponent to another. From slashes to stabs and back again, in fluid motions that looked like a blur to her.
Like a dance.
The only remnant of training anywhere near what she knew was his shield, which he thrust forward at what appeared at first to be random. Then she noticed the metal forcing combatants to either halt entirely or be stunned by the powerful blunt hits to their body and head that came in contact.
"Where…had he learned to do that?" The dazed thought rebounded in Pestle's mind as she struggled to pull enough air into her lungs to move her body.
She was hyperventilating, her rational mind knew it, but her brain was too fogged with fatigue to do much about it.
Past him, she could see Earnest Hearts using her axes in combination with body blows to throw her own adversaries off their hooves. They were too slow to make use of their gift of flight, as one ax, spinning in her palm, distracted the enemy enough for the follow-up to catch them before they could rise a pace above the ground.
Her team lead was a messy, brutal mare. Hard to believe she was one of the more romantic mares she had encountered in the Guard.
The clatter of cobblestone brought her away from her comrades.
Pivoting she dodged back as another male griffon came at her with a spear, the head of which just missing her midsection.
She struggled to lift her sword arm to strike back, so instead, she used what little power she had to slam her foe into the wall of the alley with a gust of magically conjured wind. It was enough to stun the drake as he quickly crumpled to the ground in a heap.
"Good, that's one stallion I won't have to kill today." The fact that she was relieved to not have to kill again, even momentarily, was too much for her already struggling stamina. “Get your head in the game, mare. You're dragging the team down.”
Unfortunately, her body was not listening. Collapsing to the ground, she gasped and retched. Drool leaked past her lips to splatter the ground. This was not good. Even without anything to come up, the trauma was beginning to become too much for her.
A blue aura suddenly surrounded her, and as Pestle raised her head, she saw Shining give her a sympathetic look before turning back and continuing the fight.
Shame threatened to swallow her. Shame at being so weak that a stallion had to help her. Shame at having to rely on her fellow soldiers to defend her while she became nothing but a millstone for their necks.
Collapsing on her back, she stared into the sky and watched as Storming Wind and Spitfire flitted about at the edges of rooftops. Striking enemies from improvised battlements to crash into the streets below, their wings slashed in a way that robbed them of lift as they futilely flapped their wings, only to still smack into the ground with a sickening crunch.
This was the worst she had felt in a very long time. Closing her eyes she just breathed, trying to shut out the world of clashing metal, of screams.
"Pestle!" Somepony shook her violently. "Are you okay?!"
Opening her eyes, she realized that sometime during the battle, she had passed out. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she tried to think of a way to save face.
Above her was Storming, a stricken look of fear leaving her face as she noticed the Specialist was still in one piece, if out of sorts, lying on the cobblestone alley like she was.
"What-" she swallowed thickly. "What happened?"
Shining popped up behind the lowest-ranking member of their squad, with a stern yet not unsympathetic look on his features.
His face was a mask of red and white that the helmet he bore did not cover.
"Magical exhaustion. You wore yourself out with that first attack, Specialist. That was, as I said before, a mistake. How are you feeling?"
She smacked her lips. "Dry, Sir."
That response was soon rewarded with a canteen placed to her lips and she found herself drinking greedily from it.
Once she had taken her fill, she had pulled away and was eased up by Earnest, who had been behind and out of her periphery. Looking around, Pestle instantly regretted drinking so much water. The battleground, from what could be seen through the torches scattered on the ground and the small balls of conjured light floating in the sky, was the stuff of nightmares.
Bodies, in various states of damage and dismemberment, laid in heaps upon each other as blood slowly meandered away from the piles to the ancient sewer system of the keep. She very consciously ignored the sticky sensation as her armor and mane were pulled away from the ground.
Before she could ask, Shining came to her rescue by casting a cleaning spell on her. The cold ripple of magic made her shudder.
"How long was I out?" She asked as she looked to the sky for the last member of their team. She spotted Spitfire, who seemed to be in a heated argument with one of the griffons assigned to them.
"No more than a couple of minutes, Pestle." Came Earnest's reply. She helped the down mare to her hooves and looked around at the mess before then. "This was a lot more gruesome than I thought it'd be." She mused, disgust on her face.
"This is ultimately what combat is, Sergeant." The words were a matter of fact, but the Lieutenant's countenance was anything but. Sadness drew lines where she had not seen them before. It was as if he aged ten years since the last she looked.
He looked at her, and his mouth formed a thin line. "I apologize." He glanced at the others. "To all of you, my eagerness to find the colt led me to accept a proposal that put us in far more dire straits than I had originally believed or planned. This was a mistake."
Pushing against Earnest lightly, Pestle demonstrated that she could stand on her own.
"Sir, I think I understand." He frowned at her, but she continued on before he could interrupt. "I have given this a lot of thought, and you don't need to confirm whether it is true.” She remembered the look the Princess of Love sent his way, as well as the High Princess’s own stern gaze. “You are driven to perform well because it's the only way your relationship with Princess Mi Amore Cadenza will be accepted."
"That is…true." Their squad leader said. Surprise painted clear on his face that anypony would have figured that out.
"Wait. He has to succeed in his assignments for Princess Celestia to allow him to officially date another princess?" Storming Wind was aghast.
"Yes and no. Judging by the High Princess's interest in the mission, I think she is fine with it." She groaned, irritated. "It's the nobles that will throw a fit should they learn the truth without him attaining the status for it."
"Sun…burn it all," Earnest whispered. "That ain't fair."
Shining could only shrug.
"I have no control over the situation, neither does Cadence.” He coughed and shrugged uncomfortably. “I mean Princess Mi Amore Cadenza." He gave a weak smile at his slip in protocol with his troops. "As it stands, some already know she is seeing somepony, and they are hunting for who it is. There are a lot of mares who want their sons attached to the Princess of Love."
"Exactly." Pestle frowned. "What's the plan, Sir? We've done a pretty bang-up job reducing the enemy's numbers here. Oberst Vorder should be cracking the gates any moment and taking out the embattlements along the wall soon enough. Do we now move on to the primary objective?"
Their first task was to reduce enemy troops inside the keep and draw attention from Vorder's gate crashers. With the assistance of Val Shadow-wing and his troops, that was accomplished—if more bloody than she would have liked.
The second task was to infiltrate and capture the ponies who had been assisting the bandits in their business of killing common griffons and destroying farmland and villages.
"Yes, we must make haste now. Judging by how hard their weapons struck at my shield, I can only assume somepony used an enhancement charm on their gear." He frowned. "They clearly know we're here."
Spitfire landed forcefully in the street, kicking up ancient dust not stuck to the ground by blood and bodies.
"They are in the eastern tower, the fat stubby one." She spat and pointed at a distant spire of stone. Whatever argument she had with Val Shadow-wing seemed to have not gone in her favor. "I saw at least six of them, all unicorns unless some ponies' are disguising themselves."
Shining spoke for all of them as the reality of what they were facing crashed home.
"Shit. That's gonna complicate things." He spat, gazing in the direction the Second Lieutenant had indicated.
Fighting unicorns, even for other unicorns, was a nasty task. While equines had an almost natural resistance to certain forces of magic, unicorns could well overpower that resistance. Then there was the other thing. Trying to surmount their defenses.
"Yes, Sir. Attacking now while they are dug in will not be the easiest." Pestle grimaced, already thinking of how to storm a tower without being crushed or set aflame by proximity traps and spells fired off by a desperate group of ponies all too eager to keep out of the hands of the law.
"Sir…" Earnest said slowly, looking toward where the artillery spell had blown several of the sides of buildings completely off. The weight of the structures now sagged, some even falling onward on themselves. "I think…I have an idea."
War, What is it Good For: Part 3
"Are you sure this is safe, Break?" Shining asked again, his hands fiddled with the helmet he had pulled off, unsure of what to do with himself at that moment. Sweat slicked his mane to his neck, and removing the cover had been a way to hopefully help cool his heated fur, at least on his head, if nothing else.
They had taken refuge inside what might have once been a warehouse. The broken and ancient timber sat in piles that might have once been storage boxes, though whatever might have been held inside was long since rotted and turned to dust.
He felt exhausted. Despite the years of training, he had never been able to go all day in the field like the ponies of old supposedly could.
The adrenaline that had coursed through him since the battle began was now taking its price in the form of shaky limbs and sluggish thought processes as he tried to think of an alternative solution to their problem while catching his breath.
While he struggled to relax, the rest of his team had taken their ease. Spitfire had somehow managed to fall asleep! She had propped herself up against a wall once they moved in there and was now snoring like she was back in the barracks.
He snorted in dry amusement. Truly, Second Lieutenant Spitfire was the prime example of his country's training.
“Then again, I have seen a pony fall asleep standing at post…”
Shaking his head, he returned to the matter at hand. Reaching out, he touched Pestle’s feverishly working shoulder.
"Your body, your mind too, has already gone through a fair amount of strain. I'm not so sure this is wise." He gestured weakly to the FRPK sitting before the Specialist, a worried frown creasing his face as she watched the mare return to hunch over her work.
The Field Ration Potion Kit was designed specifically for emergency use when on a mission and away from a main support like an FOB, or Forward Operating Base. Its primary use was to provide all manner of medical concoctions should the need arise.
Its use now was not the issue, as many teams often had to rely on its various ingredients to keep their troops fully ready.
No, it was Earnest Hearts' plan—a plan that she had cooked up that involved a very risky tactic that really bothered Shining Armor. That and Pestle Break's willingness to jeopardize her health for it without any complaints whatsoever unnerved him a fair bit more.
It was dangerous, and it would completely remove a member of their team from combat effectiveness for the duration of the mission. Pestle could still fight, even in her weakened condition. However, ingesting what she was about to produce would only last so long and leave her body weakened even worse than before.
It would have also served as an additional strain on his team to protect her if Val Shadow-wing, who had spread his team out into the various structures around them, had not stepped up to offer cover for the mage mare. Removing her from the conflict zone once her task was completed.
"Sir, I assure you," she sounded a bit peeved at him as she vigorously stirred in black crushed crystal, causing the potion to turn red and then blue. “I can handle this much. I've worked with these options before. I know how much my body can take." That was accompanied by a snort of irritation. Clearly, she was not appreciating his efforts to keep her from overdoing it or getting in the way at all.
The lone stallion threw up his hands, helmet nearly slipping from his grasp, his own exasperation clear on his face. He did not like the feeling of losing control of the operation.
The entire mission had turned into one massive mess. Too much was left to on-the-fly planning. He had been too hasty in his hope of a quick and decisive capture of the griffon bandits’ pony support and was forced to consider options that were bad even had things gone well.
The issue was, he could not think of a single better alternative, even at this very moment. He was simply too tired, and the night looked to be shaping up to be longer still.
The plan, if anypony could call it as such, called on Pestle Break's talent itself to save them and yank her from the front lines. While she had donned many roles during her turbulent time in service to the Throne and Equestria, her ultimate talent at healing, and her skill at alchemical concoctions specifically, were the linchpin of the next stage in this snafu.
The mare possessed a rare talent of being able to get the most out of ingredients and an instinct to naturally know what she needed to do to get the result she wanted. In this case, a mana potion.
Mana potions were invaluable, especially in situations that required an extreme need for power and magical dexterity. Those effects were most common when anypony ingested one of the rare philters.
However, there are drawbacks.
First and foremost, the half-life of a mana potion is extremely short. No more than a couple of hours at best from the moment of its creation. There was as of yet, no known way to prolong the effects.
In the past, Crystalmancy had been thought to be the solution, considering that gems worked properly and could make most food goods last months instead of weeks.
Instead, it had the opposite effect, accelerating the product's decay. Reports stated that the crystals would be completely drained in minutes. The why had left them puzzled.
A common malady of the concoction was the unstable ingredients. When separated, they had a long shelf life. However, once mixed, they began to decompose quickly. The reasoning had never been truly explained to him, though his sister had tried to make him understand again and again to no avail.
Due to this short timespan, any force using mage artillery would send a small contingent of alchemists with them so that they would be able to provide fresh potions in a relatively short amount of time. That way, the troops could pound away at a target without the need for as many breaks.
However, that does bring up the second drawback.
A pony ingesting these tinctures could only take one, at best, two a day if they were fresh. The physical and mental stress placed on the body would be too much for more. Even so, there had been accidental deaths in both training and combat when certain ponies took them. Their bodies simply could not handle the burdens, or they had pushed themselves too hard to begin with.
Whether or not to administer the mixtures in the field was a judgment call, and most commanders opted for another idea if one was available.
He himself had to be tested in order to understand how much he could handle and what those under his leadership would experience when he inevitably asked.
The exposure had left him decidedly uncomfortable with the process, but he could not outright dismiss the merits of having such an option on the battlefield. He had become stronger, faster, and capable of casting spells with much greater ease than before.
Even so, the twisting nausea and fatigue left behind once the potion had run its course was something nopony wanted to experience more than once.
Finally, there was the last issue. More logistical in nature than anything else.
While he was unsure of what exactly went into each potion, he knew of one primary ingredient that was the reason for both the unstable nature of the creation and the reason for the extreme taxation on the body and mind. With his limited knowledge, he also suspected it was the reason Crystalmancy was useless at preserving it.
Coral Davhiseed was a rare type of crystal that was currently only found in the extreme north. Past the griffon lands and into the fabled land of the once mighty Crystal Empire that existed so long ago.
According to reports, the mines, small in operation due to the limits of resources, were dangerous. The Coral, so named because of its similarities in looks to the undersea animal that bonded to reefs and other rocky formations in the deep, seemed to drain the surrounding stone of certain minerals and magical force. Due to this, the ground was crumbly and prone to collapse during extractions at the mineral's location. That's why most mines were shallow, exposed to the harsh elements of the snowy Tartaruscape, and multiple crews were constantly rotated every six hours. Some to dig, most to keep the snow clear.
Even then, it was only a trickle that would make it into Equestrian hands. Such was the difficulty of mining such material.
Shining could not help but think that there was something wrong with that. Something seemed wrong with the vital ingredient itself though he could never explain his feelings on why.
"I've experienced these potions, Pestle." He said sourly. "It is not exactly a pleasant feeling, and the after-effects…are nothing I would like to indulge again unless the situation is truly dire."
"Um, Sir." Earnest pointed toward the tower in which the hostile and yet unknown group of ponies had holed themselves up in. Her position by the door gave a clear view of the structure and the surrounding buildings. "At this point, we kinda have no choice."
Grinding his teeth, he nodded, frustrated that this was truly the only option available to them in the limited time they had. The warp he and Pestle had created was already starting to lessen, slowly, bit by bit. However, as time progressed, the waves would lessen faster and faster.
The tower itself had been like every other structure in the ancient keep, though now it looked to have been built just recently.
Magical signatures detected from scans he had employed while Earnest had given a rough outline of her plan showed a progressive use of the Mend All cantrip in almost every bit of the building's material structure.
That wasn't really a bother, more an annoyance that the tower was in better shape than the walls it was attached to.
However, the brightly colored shield that wrapped around it was an obstacle. At least four different magic patterns could be seen flowing about the upper three floors of the spire, an obvious attempt at denial. One, he was not sure they could break easily if they stormed up the traditional way.
And forget teleportation. Their meddling with local ley-fields had, of course, limited their capabilities as well.
The Sergeant's plan actually ignored those unhappy circumstances. If they could not ascend to their enemies’ hideout, they would simply bring the hideout to them.
“This…,” he sighed heavily, “is really BUBAR’d.” The white stallion said wearily, turning to watch as Pestle finished, the vial now a sickly green and quickly disappearing down her throat.
“Ergh!” She shuddered. “That is an unforgettable flavor.” She shook again, and from where he stood, he could feel the sudden pulsing through her active horn. He wasn't like his sister. His ability to sense power in others was practically nil. But even a severed pony could feel that. “I think…yes. I think I am ready, Sir.”
Breathing deep, he nodded.
“Begin at your earliest convenience.” Shining paused. “But Pestle, please try to not overdo it this time?”
Inside the tallest room in the magically refurbished tower, seven mares nervously doubled, and tripled, checked in some cases, everything they were taking with them. Only two, whose horns were not steadily alight, intermittently used their magic to sort through the left over supplies.
Whatever items couldn't be brought along were tossed in a massive fire pit in the center of the room. An already raging inferno built high to burn the refuse as much as possible blazed heatedly, turning the stuffy air into a hot box that left them all sweating profusely.
Items of all types went in, from notes to knick-knacks. All went into the burning blaze.
“No notes and documentation of any kind should be left behind.” Reminded their defacto leader, eerily calm despite the increasing tension in the room. They had all noticed the lack of battle noise that had not long ago been going on. Now, nothing but an eerie silence greeted their ears.
It seemed that the stallion and his team had been more than capable of dispatching over two hundred bandits with what appeared to be relative ease. Onyx's report on that only increased the haste in their movements. All while wondering just how strong Shining Armor really was.
It was an ill omen, for sure.
Though if Terra were to judge, the white mare's contribution to their fight against the invaders was token at best, a fact that Shadowed Dawn thoroughly chewed her out for.
Yet, she couldn't see the point in dressing down the pony like that. The way she viewed it, what could the mare have really done in the short amount of time she had? Blessing the weapons had been a quick and effective way to add to the collective damage of the mercenaries.
If Onyx Light had stayed and launched a more concentrated assault, she might have exhausted herself, leaving the linked shield she was helping to maintain weaker than it now was.
It was clear their leader, despite her level-headedness, was feeling the pressure like everypony else. The not-quite hate-fueled rebuke had done little more than waste energy.
Dumping the last of what amounted to scrap papers and trash out of her satchel, she eyed the single-strap bag and, with a shrug, tossed that into the inferno as well. The silver-furred mare could always get another.
Turning, Terra adjusted the straps to her holstered pair of daggers and threw the blue overcoat she had left sitting on the back of a high-backed chair about her shoulders.
“I'm all set here.” She said calmly. Her horn was illuminated with the same brilliance as her red eyes.
“Me too,” Onyx confirmed. She had packed light to begin with, only taking along a few light novels that now sat burning in the flames.
“I got the rope ready!”
Terra groaned and heard their leader do the same.
Standing there, in a pile of torn and rewoven bedsheets, was Crystal Halter. The silly mare had actually ripped apart their bedsheets, good Saddle Arabian silk no less, to make a makeshift rope to escape with.
Shadowed Dawn gave her a hard look, causing the hefty pony to wilt a little bit, then snorted derisively and turned to the rest of them.
“Ladies.” She began, taking a step forward. “It goes without saying we are in a precarious situation. None of us are aware of just how Shining Armor, or the Princess herself, learned of our involvement here. Nor do we have a way of figuring that issue out.”
Most of them nodded solemnly.
“Once the ripples drop to a manageable level, Onyx will have full control of the circle.” Again, everypony nodded. They all knew the best of them at teleportation was the white-furred mare, it was the logical and really only choice for them.
Because they were forced to destroy and abandon the original teleportation circle, two other mares had to be linked to her to provide enough mana to charge the spell quickly.
“We each have a copy of the summary of our activities in this festering, twice blighted, Sun-cursed kingdom.” She spat, the usual calm reserve slipping though not to the surprise of the others. This had truly been a trying night for them all.
Terra had been taking note of her increased frustration. Little moments in which vexation or anger bled through. Like with her tirade at Onyx. That would most certainly go into her own personal report with the Council.
This whole exercise, from convincing Rosebreast to hire them to deal with the mercenaries they had been shoved together with, had worn away the immense patience their leader had prided herself on. While that did worry her, she could not help but see opportunity in the other mare's crack of control. Terra has spent far too long as a subordinate.
Her brow furrowed in thought.
“Um,” She said, attempting to piece together an issue that suddenly rushed to the forefront of her mind. “What if we can't escape?” Her voice trailed off toward the end at the resigned expression on the dark mare's face.
“Then, we do as the Sun commands.” Was her even response. A thrill of fear shot up the silver-furred mare's spine. “Onyx? Are you certain you can produce a reasonable defense against our enemies?” Her weary gaze hardened as she regarded their chief magical specialist.
Onyx Light nodded her head slowly, picking up speed.
“Yes…yes. It's a very tricky spell, most types like this are considering their design and purpose, but I can confidently state that the spell structures and-”
“Can you cast immediately?” Shadowed interrupted.
“As long as there are at least two others to link with me, yes.” The white-furred mare scowled at being interrupted. Terra did her best not to chuckle. The pony would have been better suited to staying in a lab, or school, rather than scampering across a broken nation with the rest of them.
“Excellent. Now, let us ensure….” There was a sudden massive pressure, a magical force that seemed to press in upon all of them like a heavy stone being placed upon their chests.
“What-” began Crystal. She never got to finish her question as a loud boom like thunder blasted through the air, the force of which sent them tumbling off their hooves. Dust and moonlight sprouted like fireworks from every crack and crevice inside their chosen headquarters. The windows smashed outward, and it felt like the sky was attempting to suck them right out of the tower.
Before anypony could even pull themselves from the floor, the entire stumpy spire listed, slowly at first, the picking up speed as the tilt grew worse.
Terra looked out the window and got a sickening view of castle bulwarks suddenly going upward. “No.” She shook her head. “That's not right!”
With a sinking feeling, she realized that the sturdy ancient walls weren't flying up suddenly. It was that the tower they had taken refuge in was going down.
Shadowed Dawn must have realized what was happening as well, if not yet how. “ONYX! PULL THE SHIELD IN!” She roared over the sounds of snapping timber and shattering stones.
The glimmering, multicolored shield rushed into surround them just as the red-maned mare saw the ground swiftly coming up to meet them.
“Buck me.” Whispered Storming Wind.
Shining Armor could only nod as his gaze swung from the complete destruction of the tower to a now unconscious mare in his arms.
Pestle Break had not hesitated the moment she drank the concoction other than to stick her tongue out and grimace at the obvious terrible flavor.
Her horn burst to light, and the spell she had generated barely half an hour before, blossomed to life before them once again.
At the time, he could not help but note the power behind that casting. It was far greater than her previous attempt. Far larger. Just standing near it had made him feel as if his armor were suddenly squeezing him. It felt as if his blade were about to slip from his hand or his shield were to pull him down forward.
By the time he had somewhat adjusted to the uncomfortable power surge, the blast of the spell being activated washed over him and the others. The effect was less noise, and more the pressure and vibration threatening to hurl him and the others back had they not thought ahead to anchor themselves among the heavier rubble of the ancient fortress.
“Is she okay?” Called Earnest, who was now quickly dashing to him and Pestle, scrambling over broken pieces of wall and roadway. A haze swirled about them.
“Ye-” Shining coughed. Dust older than his family line made his throat dry and constricted. He tried again. “Yes. Just… just passed out.” He had the presence of mind to force the mixed air away with his magic while they waited for the cloud of soot itself to dissipate, an activity sped along by Val Shadow-wing and his team using their wings to batter the air in an effort to move it faster. He had scanned Pestle Break to ensure nothing was wrong with her. “It's just magical exhaustion. Extreme exhaustion.” He sighed heavily.
Placing her down, he waved at the cohort of griffons still with them to come pick her up. Their purpose was to simply spirit her way back to camp as soon as it was safe. Their initial goal was to simply hide her away for the time being. The earth pony Sergeant made that slightly difficult as she fussed over her fallen comrade with undue painstaking effort.
Pushing her aside, much to the mare’s obvious displeasure as they were not gentle about it, two drakes with medical bands around their forearms picked the stricken unicorn up and took to the air quickly. A squad of five others followed, providing an escort.
That left Val’s forces thin.
“Lieutenant,” said Spitfire, who had landed right behind him. “Did you see what happened as it fell over?” Her voice was concerned.
“Yes,” Shining said, stepping up next to the yellow Pegasus. “They are not as panicky as we would have liked.”
“What happened?” Earnest asked. She had turned away from watching her friend being carried away by the griffons. Her hand rested on one of her axes, a thumb tracing the spike edge.
“The shield pulled in at the last possible moment. If I were a betting stallion, I would bet that more than one is still awake and likely unharmed other than some possible bumps and bruises.”
“Buck.” Spat Spitfire. “It looks like we are in for a fight after all.”
He nodded.
With the disruption in the magic field still warping and twisting as the force of life tried to sort itself out, the enemy unicorns would be unable to form a proper mass teleportation. Which left them with two options.
Try to run. Or fight to the last.
With so many aerial forces arrayed against them, it was really only the one option. To fight.
Shining surveyed the destruction. The tower had come down at an angle, the middle half smashing into a warehouse as it did so. Without proper support, much of the structure had collapsed in on itself, leaving both the inner and outer material in a jumbled mess.
“Damn. The top of the tower must have fallen on the other side of this building. Spitfire, Storming. Get ahead of us and buy time for us so they do not escape.” Lurching into a run, Shining Armor, followed by Earnest Hearts, hoofed it down a crumbled side street as both pegasi took to the air.
With her help, Onyx Light managed to heave the mass of timber and stone that had piled atop the shield off by expanding the framework of the spell. The method was simple if a bit mana-draining, but if Shining Armor could do it, so could the mare she trusted to hold that barrier.
Standing up, Shadowed Dawn ignored the dirt and filth that had collected on her clothes during the collapse and quickly assessed their situation.
“They really did it.” She thought bitterly. Around them was the ruin of their hideaway, now nothing more than a simple collection of useless ancient debris.
“Anypony alive? Sound out!”” She called, helping Onyx to her hooves. The mare’s eyes were a little dazed, but otherwise, she stood mostly firm.
“I'm here!” Came Crystal Halter’s gasping shout as rubble that had buried a cabinet heaved out in a blue glow. The mare must have fallen out of the protective shield somehow. Yet, the Sun's Luck favored her.
The others soon followed in giving their own confirmation, save for one.
Terra Burn had not responded.
Frowning, she cast a quick scan, looking for her signature, failing that, her corpse. Neither was anywhere near her and the other's location at the base of a steep wall that jutted up at an angle away from the downed fortification.
“Where has she gone? Was she thrown out like Crystal had been?” That couldn't be the case. While her field of influence wasn't as big as Onyx’s, she should have at least detected something. “Wait. What is that?” There was a disruption in the air. But with the leylines still being so chaotic, there was no way for her to tell what it was.
Shadowed shook her head. There was nothing to be done. Now was the time to flee. Looking about them, she looked for a place to run to.
There were no stairs within the vicinity to facilitate an escape and no gate leading outside, or at least deeper into the forgotten fortress. They stood in what looked like the end of a servicing road back when the keep was still active, providing a quick and clear route for supplies to be loaded into the various warehouses to her right, one of which had now become crushed.
“Onyx, did you-”
Her question died as she was struck at by a blade thrown from above. The leader barely had time to erect a shield to divert the course of the weapon from her chest.
“TO ARMS!” She cried, jumping back to give her more distance and to see who had thrown the weapon.
There, on top of one of the warehouses, was a mare in silvered colored chainmail with small plate pieces of armor set strategically about her person. The mane that sprouted from the top of her helm was two tones of orange. The wings on her back named her for what she was.
A pegasus. A filthy sky rat that wore a supreme look of confidence down at them.
“Well, what a shame. I thought I could at least catch one of you off guard, and you looked important enough.” She called out, lazily floating to the ground. Just as two others burst in from a side passage that Shadowed could only just now see.
There, before her, was First Lieutenant Shining Armor. Despite the dings in his armor and shield, he looked no worse for wear than somepony who came in from a brief exercise in the field.
“Excellent work, Spitfire.” He said with a huff, stepping up next to the pegasus.
“So it is true, the Wonderbolts Second Lieutenant really is here.” The idea that what amounted to a Military Parade Ponyquin of no actual militant worth had managed to effectively corner them was galling. Everypony knew that her unit was more show than actual strength.
A moment later, another pony plowed into the street, a short earth pony bearing two axes and weighed down by a heavy plate kit that nearly looked comical upon the mare.
“Sir!” She bellowed as she altered course to come up beside the other two ponies. “You need to wait up. I got little legs!”
Shining Armor flashed a quick grin at the short mare.
“Sorry about that, Earnest.” He chuckled at the weak glare she gave back at him. “Where's Storming?” He turned back to the Pegasus.
“I have her on overwatch, Sir. I figured if any of these buckers somehow managed to escape, she could spot them and knock them out.” He nodded.
“Good thinking.” Glancing around, the First Lieutenant fixed Shadowed Dawn in his sights and marched two steps forward. “I am First Lieutenant Shining Armor of Her Highness’s Third Infantry Expeditionary Force. In the name of Princess Celestia, and by her authority and the authority of King Bloodbeak, through his son Prince Gerhard, I am ordering you to lay down your arms and surrender.” He paused and took a breath before continuing on. “Peacefully. You have been found operating illegally in a sovereign nation against the best wishes of its people and governing body and will be taken into custody to answer for the crimes against them.” He raised his weapon, a large broadsword, levely at her chest. “If you resist, expect the appropriate amount of force to either detain you or remove your being outright.”
That was as cold a declaration of intent of purpose if she had ever heard one. It surprised Shadowed a bit to see a stallion act with such a hard edge as he was. Even Spitfire's eyes widened as she gave him an unreadable look.
Had Terra's report on him not backed up his demanding statement, she might have laughed outright.
Instead, she swung her head behind her and simply said, “Do it,” before turning back and launching a string of fire bolts from her horn in hot succession, keeping it going for as long as she was able. Gesturing with an arm, she waved Crystal forward to assist her.
To her utter lack of surprise, Shining’s shield came up and slammed between both parties. But that was part of the plan after all, forcing the enemy to react rather than make their own strategy.
Behind her, she felt the link being re-established and the low mummers of chanting beginning.
“Well, this is going about as well as what I was expecting,” Spitfire commented dryly while bolts of fire exploded in muffled blasts of Shining Armor’s shield. “Did you really think they were going to surrender with that little speech?”
With a look of annoyance, the stallion snorted. “No, I did not. However, we both know it had to be at least attempted. Pestle’s destruction of their tower had to rattle them enough, and I would be in error if I did not attempt to at least try.”
The orange-yellow pegasus simply chuckled and turned back toward the enemy.
“What do you think they are doing?” She asked after a moment.
“I…I am not really certain if I am honest.” Shining responded hesitantly. “I lack my sister's talent to feel the breath and scope of magic or Pestle's ability to scan with any efficiency. I can only get a gist of what I'm looking at. I think they are linked for…something. It can't be teleportation. The waves are still too strong for something like that just yet.”
“Well, uh, what if it's an artillery spell?” Asked Earnest, who was now edging back little by little.
“Wouldn't matter.” The stallion dismissed curtly. “While linking does add a significant amount of mana to any spell performed, simply combining magic doesn't increase the amount of damage a pony can do with the added pool. Spells don't work that way.”
“Huh, what do ya mean?” The mare asked.
“What I mean is one cannot increase the potential damage of a spell for themselves by adding another’s mana.” He explained, mildly impressed with the extent and duration of the lead unicorn's barrage. “Depending on the unicorn, the amount of magic used at once is restricted. It is believed that the horn, and its root system inside the skull, limit the amount one can readily use. Even if they had more magic, they could not get past that bottleneck.”
“Then what's the bucking point?” Chimed in Spitfire. “Why link at all if you can't get more power out of it?”
“Because more magic allows for more complicated spells to be performed. While there's a limit to how much one can perform on their own, the other party members in the link can also work their own mana, following along with directions…” He trailed off. “But that is the question, what directions are they receiving…” He paused again and squinted. “Spitfire…are they…chanting?” He said, alarm in his voice.
“Um, I don't know. I can't hear nothing. They seem to be speaking, though.”
“Are they speaking in unison?”
“Uh…yeah. I think they are. Why?” She looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise at the horrified expression on his face. “What?!”
“Dark Magic!” He shouted, and the shield suddenly pushed forward as he lurched into a staggered charge. His hope had been to have them tire themselves out trying to break through his shield. But now he knew why the lead pony was acting the way she was. It was a delay tactic, and why the mares battering his bulwark was working so hard to keep them pinned. “We have to stop them! Now! Now! NO-”
Two of the three mares, linked with the third in the middle, shrieked, their voices overpowering the sound of the fire bolts impacting his shield. Their bodies burst into black flames that sprouted from their mouths, eyes, ears, and horns in a conflagration of horror across their bodies.
A shockwave roiled off them, knocking over the mare that had been distracting them and slamming into his shield. The bulwark buckled and cracked, shattering and tossing him off his hooves and back to collapse on the street.
Shining managed to look up and gape from his prone position.
The third, a white mare in a crimson robe, scooted back in fear but kept up the chant and her magic as what was left of her companions slowly melted to the ground and pooled together.
“What have they done?!”
Moments passed as Shining continued to push himself to his knees and then his hooves. Exhaustion and pain warring for equal priority, and he was forced to ignore both. He needed to rest up, but there was no time. Whatever they were creating would be terrible, and he could deal with pain.
The liquid remains, still somehow spouting black fire intermittently, began to fluctuate and pulse, the puddle of blood and muck twisting and growing larger with each of his steps. What horror had they unleashed?
Onyx backed away, desperately keeping up her mantra as her former companions became the abominable birth for the creature's entry into their world.
Slowly and with sluggishness, the shapeless black mass began to expand, the surface undulating. Bones of unknown things, and not quite unknown, rose and fell within its surface.
“Mnirta zegren sorfa…” She continued, hoping that the requirements had been met correctly and that this thing would not require more from her.
It shouldn't, but when dealing with spells from the Dark Magic Discipline, not just dark but black as night itself, it was best not to take too many chances.
When she had first mentioned the rite, a nameless ritual of a mostly unknown and lowly Tartarus-borne creature, she had been vague about the conditions needed for summoning what she had learned was an Uratoth. A low-level fiend that was more scavenger than predator. At least, that was what the book described it as. The creature was supposedly powerful in its own right, but only compared to the Fen , or mortals that live in this reality.
Truly, it had merely been a curiosity to even learn the spell that summoned this monstrosity. When Shadowed Dawn told them of their chances of escape, she suddenly remembered this rite. A quick conference away from others, and her leader agreed to allow her to perform it if they saw no other way out of their situation.
Now she took small steps back on slightly shaky hooves, the tips of which kept narrowly avoiding the ever-expanding puddle of ichor.
She wanted to run, to flee this cursed spell that she had invoked, not just stand at the cusp of what was likely death and agony should she misstep and fall in.
But she could not. For to run would mean this creature would be unbound, to wreak havoc on its environment and most certainly seek her out. Without sealing the bond, they were all doomed.
Supposedly, the ancient tome spoke of the beast's incompatible nature in their world. It said the beast would die after a time and only lasted as long as it did because of the sacrifice. Eventually, the Fiend would decompose at an increasingly rapid rate, its mana running out as it did.
She shook her head and focused.
“Nashur ram. Kordaval, inoteck abreati no gressuate.” She said loudly. She had to establish the link now before it began to form its body from the flesh and bone offered to it. “Nor kadasing dasu rokasa.”
The mass roiled in protest, a wail coming from so far away as almost not to be heard. At the same time, it made her own bones reverberate with the echoes of a thousand roars of rage.
Onyx Light felt her ears drain of color. The book had said nothing of this. The white mare pressed on, her voice getting louder. Shriller.
“EKRON DO FARESS SU KO DEH NO MOK SU! HARUQU SHA NEESEK KOMAS!”
With a massive shudder, the pool of black stilled. With bated breath, she waited. Seconds ticked by, and suddenly, a crooked arm of red and black flesh rose from the endless darkness. With a wet splat sound, it slammed down, hauling whatever it was attached to from the dark abyss.
In her mind, she could sense uncertainty, rage, and, oddly enough, amusement. But it was enough of a confirmation that the link had been forged—now, to enforce her will.
“Well then, that's not a good sign, is it?” Earnest Hearts said quietly.
Shining had risen and ducked behind a pile of rubble. Charging now without knowing what it could be was suicide at this point. His team and he all watched as a skeletal hand of red veins and pulsing exposed black muscle rose from the ground and smacked rather hard into the broken cobblestone beneath it.
Whatever incantation the white mare had been speaking had obviously reached its climax. The words shouted had been unintelligible to him, but they couldn't be good. Her uncertain smile of triumph had replaced the barely contained fear in her eyes moments before.
“Shit.”
Arms exploded from the pit in the ground, all sharing that same peeled horror the first had. Each taking up a similar position as the one that came before.
“I count six!” Spitfire called out, the tips of her mane smoking from a near miss of spell fire from earlier. The pegasus had made a dozen attempts to shoot over his barrier, but the two mares, the leader and an obese one that joined late, had been bombarding his defense, managed to spare some shots for her. “We can easily handle six little hands!” She crowed with confidence.
Shining Armor snorted derisively at that. Six hands and arms roughly the size of a pony’s torso was not little. Not that what they may be attached to was nothing to ignore in any case.
“By Faust, please let it not be as terrible as I think it is…”
He considered kicking himself. As if summoning the beast, the arms heaved as one and pulled something from the depths of the darkness below.
It was misshapen but oblong in nature. Where the limbs attached were exposed skeletal bones in shapes he had never seen before in the classroom or the battlefield.
“What the buck is that?” Came Storming’s call from above.
Shining did not get a chance to answer. As if in reaction to the noise, the mass roiled, a whip-crack sound snapped in the air, and Storming Wind cried out in pain.
“Spitfire!” He shouted, getting another snap and something hard smacked the shield wall he quickly erected in response.
“Buck me, that was hard!”
“ON IT!” She called, with yet another strike at his barrier as she took to the skies behind them.
Nodding, he looked to where he had felt the impacts of those two strikes. Extending his shield to cover Spitfire and Storming from more injuries, he studied where the projectiles had fallen after hitting.
Shards of red bone shattered in pieces lay on the ground. A lump of the same black oily tar that seemed to compose the creature before them, pulsed sluggishly at their ends.
“Buck.” He swore quietly. Surprisingly, he did not get the expected attack. That was an important detail he would need to remember.
A soft thump landed next to him, and he side-eyed Spitfire, who carried Storming Wind in her arms.
The young mare’s face was pained, a large red bone jutting from her shoulder. He had anticipated that. What he hadn't counted on was the mass of pulsing black goo having lodged itself firmly into her arm. The armor that normally covered that location had been ripped away, likely from the force of the impact, and he could see spiderweb veins of the invasive ooze running down the exposed limb.
“What in Tartarus is that?!” He hissed.
“Just that,” came a familiar haggard voice, “a weapon borne of the underworld.” Pestle Break suddenly lurched into the huddled group of ponies, her fingers probing around the infection the moment her knees hit stone.
“Specialist, what the buck are you doing here?! You were ordered to remain with the contingent of griffons when you woke up. Buck, you weren't even awake to receive that order.” The mare spared him a glance.
“I apologize, Sir.” She looked away shamefully, but her horn was now glowing softly as she slowly removed the protrusion from the downed private. “Something woke me, I felt…something vile.” With a quiet squelching sound, the bone fragment popped free and fell to the ground. “Dear Sweet Celestia, this is bad.”
“You took another one.” He accused quietly.
“Yes.” She confirmed. “A much lesser dose, but I saw no choice.”
“Specialist, you run the risk of Scouring yourself.” He wanted to shout, to yell at her for her recklessness, but with that creature launching an attack at anything that was too loud, he couldn't risk it.
Glancing over his shoulder, he could feel blood leaving his face.
The creature was no longer just an oblong shape. It now bore two heads on long thin necks, and some type of liquid-like protrusion hung limply from its chest.
“I'll yell at you later.” He muttered. “What is that thing?”
“That,” Pestle huffed as she swung around her small potion bag, “is a Fiend. More specifically, a Lesser Fiend. We studied about it when I went to school. My town…has, or at least had a history with practitioners of dark magic.” As she said this, she dug into a pouch and dug out a small bag, pouring the green powdered contents into a small cup. “I'm not sure what the name of this creature is, but I do remember one very important thing. In every summoned denizen of Tartarus, is a core. Its makeup depends on what catalysts were used to summon it, but will rest somewhere inside the body. Each location is different. Some researchers suspected that more powerful ones can move theirs.” She then poured a blue liquid she had yanked with a grunt from a pouch under her armor into the powder, causing the concoction to boil and turn clear. “But I suspect this one is not that powerful.” She grimaced. “I took what I could from the kit, couldn't carry the whole thing.”
As she worked, Shining took stock of her. It was clear that the potion she had once again used gave her pep, but where her fur peeled out from under the armor, the once vibrant color was now dull, faded. His worry was that if she continued, she would eventually burn the ability to cast completely out of her. Scouring, it was called.
“Not that powerful?” Muttered Earnest, who had been keeping watch on the three surviving members of the enemy.
“Yes. If it was,” she poured part of the mixture on the black writhing mass on Storming's arm. The thing squealed and shriveled, turning to gray powder before them and falling away. “I fear the Lieutenant's shield would not be enough.” Not finished, she poured the rest of the mixture into the mare’s mouth.
Almost immediately, the blackened veins in her arm and shoulder started to recede.
“She should be past the critical stage. However, there is a chance she may never use that arm properly again.”
“What do you mean?” Spitfire asked, a spike of fear clear in her voice.
Pestle shook her head in worry. Storming Wind was now asleep and out of the fight for good if what was feared came true.
“Wounds created directly by Fiends are necrotic in nature. I'm not sure I got to her in time to stop it.” She paused from putting her equipment back into her satchel, a sigh escaping her lips.
“I never learned any of this in school.” Shining began.
“I wouldn't expect you to, Sir. It was an elective class. I have…a personal history with things like this.” Everypony stared in shock at her. “What I said before was true. During my foalhood, a cult took over the local church in my town. They…t-they sacrificed a number of families in order to make these things. There is one other piece of information. Good news, actually.” Standing she waved a couple of griffons forward, who had until that time been hiding in the shadows of the alleyway they had come through earlier. “Get her out of here. Back to camp if you can manage it. Keep her warm and dry. Water every hour once she wakes, even if she protests.” They nodded and quickly hauled the unconscious mare up, moving back the way they had come slowly. “These creatures can't seem to last long in our world. The core I mentioned before,” she turned and pointed at the beast, “is the link in which it is allowed to stay. Once that is either broken or used up, the creature decays quickly and dies.”
“How long will that take?” Earnest said, her hands gripping the pair of axes tightly.
“Minutes? Hours? Possibly a full day. It depends on the strength of the user. However, judging by the fact that it seems to be completely reactive, I don't believe that monster is under complete control. So perhaps hours is a more likely scenario.” They all looked at the surviving summoner. The mare stood licking her lips nervously and snapping at her compatriots. “Yes, she is being fought by it. Likely this is her first summoning, and she does not know what to expect. That's likely why she hasn't tried to goad it into attacking us yet. She is waiting, or at this stage more likely hoping, for complete control.”
Shining Armor nodded at that. It made sense, considering he wasn't being pressed. The unicorn that had initially attacked to keep them away, was now bickering with the other two.
He smiled.
“This was likely a last-minute idea. A desperate attempt to give them a chance to flee.”
“Uh-huh. I suspected as much, Sir.” Pestle stepped up next to him, grimacing. “Sir…I don't think I'll be able to contribute much to this fight.”
“Specialist, you should not even be here, but you've done more than enough. Thank you.” Shining gestured for her to get back. “Take up a defensive position. If you see an opportunity to act that will not endanger you or the mission, do so.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hauptleute Val Shadow-wing, and he frowned. For most of the engagement, the griffon and his team have taken a largely supportive role. Then again, he had not directly tasked the group with any specific orders. That was in part due to the fact that Val technically outranked him if anypony were to compare such things. His ingrained military dogma made him uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was giving orders to what amounted to a Captain in the EAF.
“Hauptleute, is there any chance you and your team could help in this?”
The solemn griffin nodded thoughtfully for a moment. “You have something in mind, Lieutenant?”
Shining paused. “Do I?” He thought furiously, aware that they did not have long before either the warp in the magic field settled enough for teleportation or they finally got the fiend under control enough to attack outright. The only things they had to go by were that it had a core inside that needed to be destroyed and its reaction to noise. “Wait…noise.”
“I think,” he began slowly, ”I might have an idea.”
“This is taking too long!” Shouted Shadowed. “Why are you not attacking?!”
“Yeah! With this thing, we should be able to wipe them out easily! Why won't it move?!” Crystal Halter mirrored their leader in her anger.
“Will you two shut the buck up!” Onyx hissed angrily, shocking both. “Every time you fools shout, I have to restrain the Uratoth from lashing out at you.” She gestured with a shaky hand. “It has no eyes. It does not recognize you as allies.”
She kept quiet about the fact that it did not even recognize her as its mistress either. The beastly thing resisted her, fought for every piece of mental ground she took within its being.
“You said you could control it.” Came their leader’s heated reply, though thankfully, she was being far more quiet. She had been far more supportive mere minutes ago when the creature had managed to snipe down one of the filthy pegasi flitting about in the sky. Now she shot glares at her and urged her to do something, anything, to aid in their escape.
“I said I might be able to.” Sighing, she wiped her brow. “I am slowly gaining ground, but I have never done something like this before. I do not believe you fully understand the strength this creature has.”
She also kept to herself the fact that it was far smarter than what the book had implied. This Fiend she had summoned from the depths of Tartarus did not speak to her. Did not even seem to acknowledge her for the most part. Instead, much to her dismay, once she had established a mental link, it had immediately sought to overwhelm her own mind.
That had been a shock!
Onyx Light was in very real danger of losing herself, possibly even her soul. She swallowed back the bile in her throat with a sickly expression.
“I understand you are under an immense amount of pressure, Onyx.” The obvious observation from Shadowed only made her internally roll her eyes. “But while you've been struggling, Shining Armor and his band of interferers are likely coming up with a plan of their own.”
“I know that, Shadowed. I know that very well. However, if you-”
“Um, ladies…?” Crystal Halter’s voice squealed in alarm.
“What?!” Hissed their leader in clear exasperation.
The pudgy mare didn't need to tell them anything. She simply pointed.
In the air, between the two groups of ponies, was a myriad of small round blue disks. Onyx glanced ahead and locked eyes with the group’s only stallion.
Even from here, she could see the strain on his face as it screwed up tighter as more and more appeared.
“What are they doing?” Shadowed was alarmed but not hysterical like Crystal.
“I'm not sure…” Muttered the white-furred mare. If those were shields, they were too small to be of much use, and creating that many was obviously taxing to the pony across from them. Yet, still more appeared at random locations about the ancient roadway.
Onyx frowned.
“Where are the griffons that were with them?” She asked aloud.
“What?” Crystal Halter had responded first, stepping up next to her with a water bottle in hand. “Griffons? I thought they had gone with the rest of their ilk and were attacking the fortress walls.”
“No, there is a small contingent that yet remains. In fact, they were just here…” Muttered Onyx as she gazed about the battleground.
Suddenly, a sharp ping sound echoed into the stillness. Before she could respond with much more than surprise, the Uratoth lurched around and struck out. The head swung back and whipped forth violently, hurling its deadly payload at the source of the noise, causing one of the blue disks to shatter. It earned a grunt from Shining Armor, but the stallion smiled.
“Well, that's unsettling.” She thought to herself as she wrestled the Fiend back into some semblance of control. Another ping peeled out and she physically staggered this time as the beast reacted again, straining her tenuous hold to the breaking point.
“Oh, shit.” She whispered in shock.
It had become clear to her what the disks were actually meant to do. What the griffons were up to. She could now see them perched behind walls to shoot crossbow quarrels at the mini shields creating that metal-like sound and drawing her summoned’s attention.
“What is it?” Shadowed said quietly.
“I think the Shining Armor has figured out a strategy.”
“And? Is it working?”
“Un-unfortunately…” Onyx stammered out as she prepared herself.
“Buck.”
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Author's Note
Morning!
First, my editor didn't get a chance to have a crack at this, so there may be a bit of a stealth edit in the future. They're not feeling good so I believed it best to let them rest for the day and not worry about it.
Instead, I worried about it. Joy.
But I did my best, likely missing some stuff. Hope not.
On to more important things. I want to say THANK you to all the new followers and watchers. I just looked at my notifications. 61 reactions! Holy hell, I am not worthy.
569 likes. Holy Shit. I never thought so many would give it such a positive rating. And I know many of you think I deserve it, and I might. But all the same I feel overwhelmed and humbled. Thank you.
Alright, as always, let me know what you think in the comments. Did any of you get to see the Northern Lights this weekend? That was really cool!
Thanks for reading! Peace!
Burying the Hatchet
Grace plucked at the racy bikini she had dared to wear this morning. It was the third style she had tried on and the most revealing yet. More lace and string than covering fabric clung to her hips and breasts in such a way that she felt embarrassed just wearing it in the privacy of her own rooms.
It was like she was naked!
And yet...
“It's a loss.” She muttered sourly, clicking her beak in frustration as she stared out at the beach from the second-story bedroom of her rented chambers.
No matter what she tried, no matter how she debased herself for him, he did not acknowledge her efforts.
“Why am I even trying?!” Her Aunt, and to an extent Orion himself, had made it pretty clear that the black colt wasn't here for a romantic interest. Worse? He acknowledged and even admitted that he found her attractive. However, she was practically throwing her best assets at him to no avail.
“WHY?!”
That wasn't to say he didn't compliment her. But those compliments just sounded as if they were simply platitudes to placate her and ease her feelings on yet another failure. She didn't even want to wear the cursed thing in the first place, as it left far too much of her backside exposed to random passersby's eyes.
“And then there's Roderick.” She practically growled.
The hippogriff drake not only obsessed over her but took each outfit she wore as both his own private showing and intense jealousy for who she was clearly showcasing herself for.
Orion's indifference to his antics only seemed to make the poor merchant son madder.
Though to be fair, she could understand why he was so offended. To Roderick, Orion was dismissing him as a rival. Top that with his far lesser station, and it was no wonder the poor drake was nearly going into apoplexy after every encounter, sputtering and, at one point, hissing as the colt hopped off the pier and into the water.
Any competition he attempted to drag the Equestrian into was met with laughter and outright derision.
“You're gonna challenge me to a surf-off?” The black pony giggled, shoving his wet mane off to one side, giving him a striking look that left her heated.
Bare to the waist, Orion stood knee-deep in the ocean as he just come back from attempting to ride one of the waves in. It had been met with failure as he flipped head over hooves into the surf, his board shooting out from under him and flying off toward the beach.
“Are you afraid?” Roderick said with a sneer. “Can the big bad colt not handle a little challenge?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” He smacked his forehead. “You did just see what everybody saw, right?” The colt deadpanned, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I would think my performance would clearly show I'm very much at the beginner level of surf-a-tude.” He jabbed the index finger at the drake. “You, challenging me? This is more like a forty-year-old veteran of war challenging a toddler to a fistfight. Sure, I can stand up, but my balance is a little wonky.”
Striding past Roderick, he paused.
“You know, I just had a thought.” He mused. A single finger tapping the side of his muzzle. The drake’s eyes slowly tracked over to him, outrage beginning its predictable path onto his face.
“Are you so bad that you need to challenge a gremmie like me in order to feel that much better about your own lack of skill?” The colt pretended to think a little more. “Naaaaahhhh. That can't be it.” He slapped him on the shoulder and proceeded up the beach, his horn alight and water seeming to shed from his fur and clothes as he did so.
Roderick Silktail just stood there as onlookers avoided looking directly at him. Heads were bent, beaks and lips moved, and the subject was very clear. Another spectacle brought on by the scion of Silktail. On one hand, he asked for it time and time again.
On the other hand, her heart had to go out to him, as this hadn't been the first time Orion had dressed him down so publicly.
She giggled a little. Remembering the colt walking away.
“His mane was so poofy! Like a little orange cloud on top of his head!” His tail had looked like a shriveled orange, too. The giggling became a guffaw that she covered her beak to contain.
Grace's mirth, unfortunately, didn't last.
Roderick’s temperament was not fragile by any means, but Orion’s constant verbal barbs could only continue so long before the drake had enough. And when that happened, there was only one option a person of his station would demand.
She sighed and began slipping the beach wear off. The hen lamented that it was another forty-eight bits down the cliff. Tossing it in the wastebasket, she crossed into the bathroom and started the shower. As hot as it was outside she did not need too hot a rinse, just enough to get the salt and whatever sweat she might have accumulated that day.
Her time living in Equestria made her keenly aware that, depending on the activity, a griffon’s natural odor might not be appealing to some. Her brow furrowed.
“Or to most ponies, for that matter.”
Grace couldn't begin to count on her fingers how many times a pony had turned their nose up as she walked by. Getting that explanation from Mrs. Evergarden had been painful, but as awkward as that was to go through, what hurt more was the continued habit they held onto despite how clean she made herself.
Canterlot had really damaged her morale.
Walking by the bathroom mirror, she paused as she stared at her reflection.
Starting with her head and the crown of feathers there, she let her eyes wander over her form. The scarlet red powders she used to highlight her eyes and tips of her ears had been expertly placed if she said so herself. She let her hand caress her belly, noting that while hidden, the abdominal muscles were there and strong—a sign of her bloodline, so her Auntie said.
Her other hand drifted up and cupped her breast, lifting it slightly before letting it fall with a quiet, heavy smack. Her nipples looked to be normal, too, though a tad too large for her liking if she were being honest with herself.
“Still perky. Good.”
Her waist, hips, and rear were more than adequate, in her opinion. She had become aware that she was quite desired from whispers she had overheard from the guards in her Uncle’s castle. But she knew a truth that her fellow countrygriffs did not.
Compare her to any mare in Equestria, and she would not be too far out of place. In fact, she was average. Some of those mares she had remembered and seen were stunning.
However, here and in Griffonia, she was considered the pinnacle of Griffon pedigree. Though, not everyone agreed. Such as her counterparts in court, who held slimmer figures than her own, a sign of more meager portions of food, or so Eberhard had told her.
She wasn't too sure what he meant by food and the logistics of getting said food at the time, but the sum of it was simply that she had more to eat than other griffons. Thus, she was bigger and healthier in most respects than many others. However, that did bring up the quest of her cousin and her Uncle. They were both larger like she was. Perhaps another sign of her blood?
Normally, in an enclosed system such as a court, one would be mocked for looking too different, and she initially received those barbs from the other hens. Then the drakes started to take notice of her as she got older and started to develop, and at first, that only seemed to increase the verbal attacks.
But after the Fallen Leaves Banquet a couple of years back, in which she danced with just about every noble drake from every corner of the kingdom, a new tactic was introduced: ostracization.
They ignored her and didn't invite her to events anymore. Rosebreast's weekend get-together had been the first real social interaction she had in years, and that had been merely to target Orion and cast her further in the shadows.
She remembered the look in the colt's eye when speaking with Palatine, “the harlot!” He had no interest in her. Didn't even really look her over after that first meeting. He seemed to note everything about her, frowned, and shot a subtle glance at Rosebreast.
He may not have known the purpose, but he knew what was going on.
Grace sighed. There was no fault in her looks.
“It's that idiot pony not accepting the fucking invitation!” The mental swear got her to blink, her reflection showing a heated glare. Shaking her head, she spoke out loud. “No, Auntie said it herself. I looked too much into things and got my heart set on something that wasn't there.” A mantra she found herself saying a lot these days.
She just wished her heart got the memo.
Stepping out onto her balcony, Grace let the sea breeze dry her. The towel was good, just not enough, and her rooms had privacy screenings that hid her rooms nicely without obscuring her own view. With the purple flowers blooming in the vines gave a sweet scent that helped calm her.
The royal hen wondered what they were.
Inhaling deeply, she exhaled. It was long and slow, pushing out the day's stress with it. Watching the ocean as the night fell like a blanket over the skies, she sighed again. The moon was only a crescent tonight, but its light sparkled off the slightly turbulent waves, creating its own miniature starfield upon the waters.
“God damn, you're a persistent dumbass, aren't you?”
That sounded very much like the pony that very much was in her, as he would say, “shit-list” .
“How could I not be when your very presence is an affront to her!”
And there was the second one on the same list. Just what she needed, those two jerks fighting about her under her own window.
“You mean to you. She invited me up here. Seriously, what is your damage?” This argument must have been well underway long before it reached her. The two were now heading for the long dock stretched out in front of the inn.
Well, Orion was walking, the set of his shoulders giving him a hunted look. Roderick stalked after him, his hands grasping and releasing the hilt of the long dagger at his waist.
“Fine! Yes. It is me. I am affronted by you!” He seethed. “I could, with some restraint, forgive your brutish nature with me. However! Your tone and manner with Lady Fairheart is far too low!”
“Oh, Christ.” The colt moaned, throwing his head back. “First, if you're gonna use that toothpick, get it over with and try it.”
The drake's hand leaped away from the weapon, shock on his face.
“You got a habit of grabbing onto the damn thing anytime it's on you. I can hear the damn leather creak every time ya do. Knock it the fuck off.” Spinning on his hooves, he glared at the baffled hippogriff. “First, this argument…again. Are you serious?” His hand shot up, forestalling a response. “No, don't answer that because you are a one-track mind bastard that doesn't know when to give up.”
“I know my father! Much can be said about how you do not know yours!”
“He was eaten by a troll.”
The drake paused again, alarmed and confused at the same time.
“That was a joke.” Shaking his head, Orion groaned. “Perhaps this is my fault.” Pinching the bridge of his muzzle, he began. “Do you think she is so soft that she needs to be treated with cotton pillows and soft blankets?”
“Wh…what?”
Pacing back and forth, the pony asked again.
“I said, “Do you think she is someone that is soft?” Gentle. Can't handle the slightest social faux pas?”
Taken aback, Roderick paused. His uncertainty is clear even from her position.
“Well?” Orion snapped.
“Lady Fairheart needs to be treated with the decorum her station deserves.” The answer was slow, hesitant.
“Uh-huh. And have you ever bothered to find out if that's what she wants?”
“What…she wants?”
“I'm starting to wonder if you're half parrot.” Slapping his palms together and keeping them there, he gestured with his hands. “Do you know anything about her?”
“I…uh.”
“I will take that as a no.” Orion sighed, dropping his arms in defeat. “Alright. Listen, peanuthead. You very obviously never got to know her. More than likely, spent all your time writing to her. Sending her heaps of gifts to catch her attention.”
“Where is he going with this?” She thought worriedly as she peeked over the rail. She had ducked down the moment she heard them going at it.
“Yes…”Roderick’s head dipped low.
“That's what I thought.” The colt sagely nodded. “Dad put you up to this?”
“No! Of course not. My father would never dictate terms for the love lives of his hatchlings.” The merchant son stood up ramrod straight, eyes angrily fixed upon Orion’s.
“Huh. Well, that's better than I was expecting.” He paused. “You know, both griffons and hippogriffs give birth to live offspring. Why do you guys use terms for birds so much?” Again, the colt had put the hippogriff on the back paw. “Alright. Forget that.” He waved Roderick’s questioning look away. “How did you two meet? You know my story, orphanage, woopdy freakin’ do. What's yours?”
“I…uh.”
“Nu-uh. You've been harassing me since we got here. You're not backing out of this now. Spill, melonhead.”
“But you just called me peanuthead…” He whines.
“Uh huh, and you're both depending on the situation and my attitude. Don't like the insults, tough shit. Grow a thicker pelt or down, I don't know. Whatever the hell your people call it. Now, no more diverting, spill!”
“I….um…okay.” Taking a deep breath, Roderick thought. Orion took that moment to sit down on a post, waiting with arms crossed. “It was back when her Uncle, King Sigurd Bloodbeak, had come to personally negotiate some trade agreements with the council. She was there, her dress glimmering with the gossamer pearls sewn into-”
“Gonna stop you right there.” The colt interrupted. “Save the poetry for her. Remember, you're dealing with a heathen savage. Spit facts.”
The drake sighed and nodded.
“As I was saying, she had come with her Uncle for the negotiations. That's when I first saw her, and she was like no one I had ever seen.”
“Love at first sight or infatuation?”
“The latter, if I’m truly to be honest, I will admit it was her beauty that had first slain my heart.” Rodrick chuckled. “I know, no flowery words. I’m getting to it.” Coughing, he clapped his hands behind his back and paced. “It wasn't until our correspondences that I felt affection for her grow within.” He confirmed.
Grace shook her head. She had only been nice. All those letters every month had been tedious. The eagerness in those written words made her feel cruel for not responding in kind. Had she made a mistake in that?
“Without too much detail, what were her responses? I imagine your letters were refined and filled with romanticisms.”
“Yes. Of course, anything less would be an affront to her.” Roderick nodded.
“There's that fucking word again.” The colt shook his head. “What were her responses?”
“She spoke of her day-to-day life and her goals. Uh, are you-”
“Yep, totally keyed in on that.” Orion huffed. “Alright, this is too slow, and I haven't got all night. I got a six-pack cooling right now, and it was damn hard to get. Now, I'm gonna ask you some yes or no questions to speed run this thing.”
“I, uh, okay?”
“Good enough. Did she send you anything? From what she tells me, you sent a lot of gifts and poems. Did she send anything back?”
“Uh, no. She did not.”
“Did she ever initiate a letter, or was she always just playing the role of responder? Ask any questions of you?”
“No, I…I just told her about me.” Roderick was starting to look very confused.
“Okay, last one. Are you an idiot sandwich?”
“Uh…what?!”
“Okay, that one was just pulling your leg.” He chuckled. “Alright listen, she was being nice with you. Before you get all huffed up and pissed off, think about it. Only you ever initiated anything. She did not. Also, I'm assuming you never talked to her on that first visit here, and she hasn't been back since.”
Roderick at first seemed to want to berate him. But he paused, and he paced away once more.
“I…I never tried to speak to her then. I was barely coming into my crest. What was I going to say to a hen like her?” He looked back, and Grace found her heart once again going out to him. Finally, after all these years, he was beginning to understand. “She was only ever nice. I…I wrote about my own desires and how she was a part of them…but…”
“But you were never in hers.” Orion finished for him, looking solemn for the drake for the first time. “Yeah, I've seen that a time or two. It happens, man. Nothing you can do about it.”
“What?!”
“But I…”
“But nothing. Dude, she's holding all the cards. You got a three, a six, and an Ace. You spilled out everything and left nothing to play.”
“Uh, what?”
“Card game, poker. Let's just say you fucked up. You don't know anything about her, and you over-shared the hell out of yourself with her without asking if she even wanted to know.” Orion smiled. “Do you know that she is strong as hell and can fight?”
Roderick listlessly wandered over to a post of his own and sat.
“She…is strong?”
“Oh, hell yeah, she's strong as shit. Personally, it scares the absolute crap out of me. I've seen it first hand, though I won't go into the details of what was involved, rest assured, she's legit.” For a moment, neither said anything. Orion had shifted position and was now facing his antagonist, his back to her and the window she hid behind.
“She truly hasn't told me anything, has she.” The drake seemed to sink in on himself as he uttered the words at last.
“Yeah. Hell, I'll be honest with you. I only found out a lot about what's going on with her recently. Let me tell you something, that girl. Is carrying a literal fuck ton of baggage.” Orion shook his head. “But that doesn't mean she isn't worth your time. Just gotta stop this over-sharing nonsense. Oh, and the smothering. You do that hover nonsense anytime she places a paw out the door in your general direction. “ Roderick seemed to only recoil further.
Sighing, the colt got up and walked over. Settling down on his haunches, he placed a hand on the drake’s shoulder.
“Look. I really don't like you. Mostly because you've made yourself an absolute pain in my ass the entire time I've been here. But I'm gonna give a weird amalgamation of advice I think works. They say if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be.” He frowned. “But that is frankly horseshit at worst and circumstantial at best.”
“Then what do I do?”
Orion paused, thoughtfully titled his head, and nodded. “You've got the heart, but you need to understand when to let go. You've tied up your entire life into wooing her, haven't you?” Roderick nodded hesitantly.
“Not all, but a very good deal of it. I even began construction on a home on the central pillar in hopes…” The drake trailed off, eyes slowly tearing up.
“Ya gettin' that is lame as shit and not gonna do anything but wasting cash, aren't ya?” The colt grinned.
“Dammit it all, yes.” He bemoaned, hanging his head and wiping at his eyes. “Is there nothing I can do? Truly?”
“Well, there are a couple of things you can do.”
Roderick looked up, hopeful.
“Support her. Without the expectation that she will return your affections.” He smiled sadly. “Truthfully, that is Simp's behavior, but you are stuck in quite a pickle, and I'm no love doctor. But the best thing is to support her. She is going through some shit right now that would likely leave a lesser griffon molting. But she's tougher than that.”
“And…the other?”
“Cut all contact with her. Leave her the fuck alone. If she seeks you out, then yay. Otherwise, live for yourself. Do things that make you happy.” He paused. “Other things that don't involve over-sharing and smothering someone. Perhaps just try dating others and get some experience in the realm of just talking to other ladies. Trust me, the opposite sex loves confidence, and you need to earn some of that.” He chuckled. “Okay, that might be only strictly for griffons, I wouldn’t go trying that with ponies. They are weird.”
“...I…” Roderick frowned, hesitated, then glared at him as he spoke again. “She's…she's in love with you. You realize that, right?” He sniffed.
“Yeah, I do.”
“And you don't want to return her affections?” The drake’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Orion stood and walked back to his post before sitting again. From the angle, she couldn't see his face, but he looked like he was trying to say something, but he kept pausing before speaking.
A rare moment, Orion Falls being speechless.
“Do you…know what it's like? For stallions in Equestria, I mean.”
“I have heard that stallions are usually not the forefront of the home, that they largely take a more passive role in their community. Is that what you are referring to?”
“Yeah, that. As I have gotten older, my behavior and antics have been looked on with a lot less approval than when I was much younger.” He laughed. “Back then, it was endearing and cute. Now…” He scuffed a hood against a plank. “Now, it's seen as unbecoming. I still get an etiquette class once a month. My therapist says I need to learn to conform to society. She says my experiences in my youth have shaped me into a bitter, angry little colt.” He shook his head. “And she's not entirely wrong on that.”
“Yet, it seems to me you don't agree with her solution.” Roderick was sitting up straighter now, his long coat unbuttoned.
“No. I do not.” Orion sat up with the drake. “The issue is, what went on in my formative years that made me this way has given me a very dark view of the world.”
“I…I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, but if you would like to tell your tale?”
“You know what, what the hell. Why not? But first.” The pony stretched out a hand, and his horn glowed. A small wooden crate appeared, and he caught it. “Want a beer?”
“Alcohol?!” The drake nearly shouted in surprise.
“It's cider, the good stuff, but yes, alcohol.” Placing the case down, he picked a slender glass bottle, popped the cork top, and took a long pull. Exhaling, he sighed. “God, that shit is good.”
With a disapproving frown, Roderick picked up one of his own and took a much more conservative sip of his own, nodding in approval at the taste.
“How did you get these?” He asked, bewildered.
“I got my ways, don't worry about it. Do you wanna hear about why I'm Abby Norma or not?”
“I was led to believe your name is Orion Falls. Is that just a pseudonym?”
“What? No! God, it was a play on words. Abby Norma. Means abnormal. Duh.” Orion sucks the bottle down and pops another one. “You're a sheltered kid, aren't you.”
“I will refrain from answering that.”
“Careful, it's learning.”
“Are you going to tell me or just spend the evening mocking me?!”
“Alright, alright.” He coughed. “My earliest memories are roughly around when I was five years old. Back then, I was homeless and living on the streets eating rats. Though I went hungry more days than I can count.” He paused. “Huh, I should be more stunted than I am. How the hell did that happen?”
“You were…eating rats?”
“Oh yeah, not sure you've been paying attention, but I'm an omnivore. Literally tested.” He waved that conversation aside. “That doesn't matter. What does is I was living on the streets of Stalliongrad, till a prostitute by the name of Stone…Mark? Stone Chisel? Shit, I can't remember. Anyways. Stone took me in. Nice guy. A bit girly in nature. That purple room he had me sleep in. Woof.” Another sip. “Anyways, little did I know that Stone was once a product of a very nasty slaving organization. Some gang that ran a lot of dirty businesses in those walls and likely outside them, too. I'm not too privy to all the details.”
“Those scoundrels!”
“Yep, terrible people, don't disagree with you. Worse, apparently, I had not been as careful as I thought I was. Back then, I was a precocious thing, believing I had it all figured out. The short story is, Moya, one of the slavers, had learned about me. And found out where I was staying. I can only imagine her plan had been to sell my happy ass to the highest bidder.” He waved a now empty bottle at Roderick. “Don't get your panties in a wad, I got out of that shit. But Stone took a beating for me to do it.” The colt shook his head sadly. “Hope he's okay.”
Grace did know of Stone Mark. Once a prostitute, now turned rehabilitator in Stalliongrad. He worked closely with the local rescue groups in the area. He was having a surprising amount of success in getting fillies and colts off the streets and into homes. Better yet, he was being instrumental to battered and broken stallions that fell into his care. A good pony trying to help his fellow stallions find peace and solace.
“Anywho. That incident, plus one a couple of years later that I am not gonna get into, made me really think about my place in society and what I want.” He hummed for a moment. “And I don't want to be in a position where another has power over me in any way. It's a death sentence as far as I'm concerned.” Orion gestured to Roderick, his bottle wavering unsteadily. “I won't do it. And your Lady Fairheart, is in one of the highest positions around in both kingdoms. If this gambit she has cooked up works, she'll be fourth in line for the throne of Griffonia.”
She was amazed that he was somehow keeping up the cover story. The pony was clearly getting drunk, as he had somehow moved on to the fourth bottle.
“You believe she can do it?” The drake asked curiously.
“Oh hell yeah, she's a smart cookie. I would not be surprised in the slightest if she doesn't win outright by the time the summer is over.” Waving both arms, the colt refocused. “The major problem is me. Right now, I have nothing of my own to give. Nothing but ideas in my head and an ass full of dreams. Sure, I'm saving money hand over fist, but it's not enough. I want to be my own ma- stallion. I want to matter more than a trophy for a group of mares, more than something to protect. I got nothing to my name right now.” He laughed bitterly. “Truth is, I never did.”
That quiet comment stuck with her. What did he mean by that? A colt, an offspring of any species, doesn't have much more than its name to begin with. So why did he seem so bitter over it?
“I can't come to any relationship on equal terms.” He continued, angrily waving his arms. “I ain't havin’ that shit. Fuck that. And fuck anyone who thinks it's stupid!”
His tone has a shockingly southern drawl. “Where did that come from?” The thought was fleeting, though. She was much more focused on his rambling words and what they really meant.
Orion Falls, for all his bravado, felt very small. Trapped in a mare's world, his experiences so far had made him hostile to relationships that were unbalanced. Which, for him, was all of them.
“I get it now…oh, Orion, I'm so sorry…” Grace felt stupid. She had all the information. She knew all about his past. How could she not have realized how it affected him? How it still affects him. “And here I am, forcing my attentions on him and forcing him to respond, even when I have said I give up! Grace, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“So a relationship is far and away your least concern.” Roderick frowned. “But what about Lady Fairheart?”
“God. Where to even begin? For one, she's a fucking ten out of ten. So, I get your infatuation with her. I do, dude!” Both shared a rare smile together. “The issue is, she's acting a lot like you with me. And I have my goals firmly in place.” He shook his head. “But fuck me if it's not a temptation. She's smart. Funny when she's not being self-conscious about it all. Tough as nails both inside and out, Rod, she's a total package when it comes down to it.” He chuckled. “But she has one issue that even I won't demand a change of.”
“She's nobility.”
“Bingo. Being next to her would put me in the spotlight for sure. It means I'll have to perform for the circus. Not to mention both national and international stages. With my attitude and the way I regard folks I think are asshats, yourself included, do you really think that would be good for her?”
“No. In fact, your actions would likely reduce her standing, as you say, both local and out in the wider world.”
“Exactly. Plus, I don't like all the eyes on me. Even if I could curb my attitude, it would still be soul-crushing. And I won't ask her to give that all up for me. Roderick, she has worked too fucking hard and too damn long to lose it all over a jackass like myself. Face it, dude, we both fucking it up for her.”
“I…I cannot help but concede to your point.” He looked down and gasped. “My word! You've drunken them all!”
“Huh?” Orion looks down and frowns. “Damn, so I did. Well, good thing I got another case in my room.” He tilted back the bottle and drained the contents. “Fuck it. We've shared enough sappy bullshit. Does this bury the hatchet? Or am I going to have to start punching you tomorrow?”
“No…no, I think I understand you better now. And it has reminded me that not all paths in life beat with the same wings.”
“Good, I'm getting the fuck out of here, and you likely need to get back home. Your guards have got to be bored to death by now.” that last was spoken very loudly.
Roderick’s eyes bulged, and one of the patrons nearby, who had looked to be enjoying a mug of ale, gave a start and glanced over at them.
“Heh, yeah.” He chuckled. “Word of advice: they need to learn to walk like common folk if they want to blend in. Too stiff. They walk like soldiers. Easy to see. It's how I avoided the guard back in Stalliongrad when they played dress-up. Know your marks.” He tapped his head with a grin.
Storing the empty bottles back in the crate, Orion waved.
“Later. Think about what you wanna do with your life outside the family biz and all that.”
With that, he walked off the pier, completely steady on his hooves. For just a moment, she thought he glanced directly at her. But she was certain he could never have known she was there. As soon as she spotted the pair, she had hidden behind the half wall.
Roderick took to the air shortly after, and four hippogriffs took to the sky after him, seeming to bicker at one another as they flew out of sight.
As for Grace, she had a lot to think about. Orion was right about one thing: even if the advice was not meant for her, it certainly still rang true.
She needed to let go. Not just say she would, but actually let go.
“Oh god, cottonmouth.”
Splayed out on his bed, Orion attempted to roll over, but the moment he opened his eyes, pain seared into his very soul.
His rooms faced directly eastward. Most of the inn's rooms were designed to give each guest a view worth coming back for. Unfortunately for him, his eyes cracked open just right to receive the full concentrated power of the sun, which felt like it proceeded to cook him from the inside.
“Uuuuggghhhh….fuck you, you stupid bitch.” He groaned, rubbing at the orbs in his skull.
To top it all off, the sun's rays had the effect of activating the massive headache that was his due for all the cider he had buried in his gullet.
After assuaging his pain, or at least enough that they didn't feel like fire, his hand flopped about, searching for a pillow to cover his face and found feathers. That brought him fully awake and more aware of the pounding his brain was taking between the ears.
“What in the fuck?”
“Relax, idiot. And stop smacking my head.”
“That's Gilda's voice. Why is Gilda in my fucking bed?!”
Cracking an eye open, he peered over and saw the hen sitting in a chair that had been pulled up to the bed. A grin was plastered across her beak as she looked him over.
“We…didn't…” Her laugh interrupted him.
“No, you bird brain, we didn't ”do the deed”.” Gilda air quoted. “I found you here, naked and surrounded by bottles. How in Tartarus did you manage to get three cases of cider in your room without anyone noticing?”
Her voice made him wince, and he closed the eye he had used to survey his surroundings with a groan.
“Can you…like….turn the volume down on your pie hole. It's at an eleven. It needs to be a two.” Fortunately, he had spied a pillow right near his head and quickly placed it over his face, sighing with relief that the sun's assault upon his retinas was over for the time being.
“Orion, I am whispering.” And with a mild start, he realized she was.
“Ah, fuck.” He moaned. “What time is it?”
“About 8 in the morning.” Said the soldier. The smirk could be heard clearly in her tone.
“What in the hell are you doing in my room at 8 in the fuckin’ morning?” Another thought rolled in like a wrecking ball. “Wait. You saw me naked?!” He fairly screeched at her, his own voice causing him to wince and pull the pillow tighter to his head.
“Only those flanks of yours, big colt.” She was giggling now. “I covered you up with a sheet. But I have to say, nice.”
Orion wanted to hit her. He really, really did. But any movement of the cushion would only bring the sun's retribution.
“Fuck you. You realized you were ogling a minor, right.”
“Oh please, it's your fault for sleeping naked. Don't give me that minor crap. I was the one that had to come in here and see it.” There was the sound of clinking that was way too loud and the rush of liquid pouring into what he prayed was a cup. “Here, drink this. It's just water. I won't mess with you in such a state.”
Oh, how he wanted that drink. But the sun.
“Close the blinds. The sun. It burns us.” He would have laughed if he could. That was funny.
“Oh fine, ya big hatchling.” Soon enough, he could feel the heat lessen as the sound of wooden slats clacked into place. “There.”
Slowly removing the pillow, Orion peered at his surroundings. His shirt and pants were somehow hanging from the stained glass light fixture above his bed. The underwear was nowhere to be seen at the moment.
Peering over at his friend, he noticed her in full kit, minus the weapons.
“Uh, what's going on?” He murmured.
“First, drink some water, preferably all of it. I need you alert.” Gilda had come around the side, shoving a ceramic cup into his hand, and encouraged him to drink.
Slowly, he raised himself up enough to lay against the headboard and began taking slow, steady sips of the life-giving liquid.
“You might as well explain it now. I'm not getting over this hangover any time soon.” Holding out the now empty cup, she refilled it.
“Messenger arrived. More by accident than actual intent. Apparently, King Bloodbeak got our message about you and sent an entire platoon of soldiers. They were flying out here to take advantage of the winds to reach Aviary.”
“Wait. What message about me?”
“Back when you got caught by the Diam- Iron Dogs. We sent a flier out to call for reinforcements.” She chuckled. “I guess he was really worried about you.”
“Fucking awesome.” He groaned and stuck out the cup again. “So why the full gear?”
“Ah, Lady Fairheart has taken this as a sign to get our tails back to Aviary.” She frowned. “Plus, another message that was with the first seemed to make her upset. She won't tell us anything.”
“What? Why?! We have, like, another three or four days!” He sat up straighter. He was feeling better, even if his eyes did still want to ooze out of his head.
“I don't know. Maybe…well, you didn't hear this from me, but I personally believe she's had enough of Roderick’s sniffing around. That damn hippogriff is a menace.”
Orion couldn't help but chuckle. “Ah, he's not that bad. Just a lovesick puppy that doesn't know what the hell to do with himself.” He gave her a grin of his own when he noticed her puzzled look. “We kinda buried the hatchet over a drink or two.”
“Oh, okay. Did he supply you with the alcohol?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Naw, I got my ways.” And by ways, he meant outright stealing the cases and depositing the coin for them in their place. The colt had been determined to enjoy at least one night of drunken revelry. Even if it was just by himself. So, the act of purchasing by force had been a necessity.
“Uh-huh.” She muttered with a frown. “Well, get your tailfeathers in gear, colt. You got packing to do, and we need to soar out by noon.” She didn't wait for his response, only spun on her paws and marched out the door. Slamming it a little too hard for his liking.
Muttering curses for the departed griffon, he rose unsteadily to his hooves and stumbled to his bag. Fishing around, he pulled out a ridged leather toolkit. Inside were vials of various colors. The one he was searching for was purple.
Before leaving Equestria, Orion had taken it upon himself to mix up a bunch of cures for ailments he believed he might have encountered. Anti-venom for a Wasp-viper bite, which was a common flying snake in Griffonia, to a potion for simple colds. He hoped he would never have to take the anti-venom.
Also, apparently, Wasp-vipers were both a pest and a delicacy among the locals. Gross.
Finding the vial he was looking for, he popped the wax seal and knocked back the contents quickly. From experience, he knew that the concoction was of the vilest sort, filling the mouth with the taste of ash and compost. Shuddering, he slipped the empty container back into the toolkit and stowed it away. Standing up again, he smiled as the headache almost instantly washed away.
“Nasty shit, but it works pretty damn well.”
Embracing his magic, he cracked the blinds enough to let in some light so he could see what he was doing.
“Alright, much better. Now to get cleaned up.” Walking into his bathroom, he cast another spell that began picking up the various items that belonged to him. The spell, he was sure, was another all of his own making. The idea of sharing would do him no favors at this moment because of the general populaces’ limited understanding of how DNA worked.
“That and Celestia would be very curious as to where that knowledge came from.”
The spell wasn't perfect, however. A major limiting factor is it seemed to only address worn items. An algorithm inside the spell matrix could only identify an object as long as there were enough skin flakes or fur on it. Which left out anything like his aforementioned toolkit. Hardened leather just didn't hold onto skin and fur like more cotton-like articles.
He shrugged.
“Perhaps I can work on that while we head on back. It's gonna be at least two days before we get there.”
Humming, he stepped into the scalding hot water he had started before entering the bathroom and began to get ready.
No one believed Gilda when she told her other fellow soldiers in her detachment how she had found the colt.
So she was shocked when he stepped down into the main hall of the Inn, no worse for wear and carrying his bags in his magic. The poor hen had made a substantial bet with the others that the fool colt would be stumbling down the stairs.
The snickering behind her turned that stunned look to anger, and she strode over to confront him. Stomping all the way.
“Hey, Gilda, what's got your panties in a twist now?” He smiled casually.
Staring into his eyes, she saw none of the bloodshot, heavy-lidded visage of twenty minutes ago. Instead, the damn colt looked to have spent a day in a spa!
“What do you mean?! Why aren't you hungover still?!” She screeched, drawing the attention of more than one customer in this early morning hour.
“What are you talking about? I'm a good boy.” His smile morphed into an insufferable grin. “I did my letters and numbers and went straight to bed.”
Gilda's armor shook, his grin widening.
“Why, whatever is the matter, Sergeant Gilda?”
“I….I walked into your room. You were passed out drunk this morning. Don't mess with me. You couldn't even stand!” Taking a step forward, she glared into his eyes, seeking even a shred, just a remnant of something. Anything!
Orion simply stood there, calmly, with a grin that seemed to spread from one ear to the other.
“RRRRRRAAAAHHHH!”
“Sergeant?” Lady Fairheart’s cool voice broke through her rage. Snapping to attention, she responded to her Lady.
“Apologies, my Lady. I was simply checking on Orion's condition!”
“You were trying to see if he was hungover from last night.” There was a hint of a laugh in her tone. That not only startled Gilda, but she could see the black colt next to her peer at Grace Fairheart with a fair amount of surprise. “ I'd give up on that if I were you. Even if he was, which I'm sure it's true, he likely used some magic to whisk it away.”
“Okay, everyone. We have a pod person.” Orion's eyes narrowed. “Who are you, and where's the real Grace?”
“It is me, you ass.” She chuckled. “Can't go anywhere with you without some antic or trick from you.”
“Hey, I was behaving this whole trip! I didn't ask for anything or do anything to get myself tangled in anything!” The colt protested.
“Really? I remember a certain Roc nest you happened to wander across?” She shook her head. “No, you're right. That was another black pony with an orange-colored mane.”
Orion sighed in defeat.
“Point taken.” Then he cocked his head to the side. “What's with you today? You seem, I don't know, calmer?”
That was what Gilda wanted to know. Lady Grace Fairheart stood from the second to the last step, her hand lightly touching the balustrade. But it wasn't her poise that was the change in her. Looking into those pale green eyes, there was a peace she hadn't ever seen within the young hen.
“I had a lot to think about last night, and this vacation has done what it was supposed to do. Now, I am eager to return and see what fruit our efforts have borne.” She smiled and walked down the last step. “Hauptleute Skewer? Are we already ready to depart?”
Hauptleute was a very old way to address a Captain. It was equivalent to the rank, but such words aren't used much in modern times.
“Well, except for Prince Gerhard's forces.”
There was some contention there. Most great houses were embracing the Equestrian ranking system, but there were still holdouts, such as the Prince's personal guard and some of the older families.
“Come to think of it. Weren't Noble Houses called Tolles Nes’tur?” The term meant Great Nest in the old language.
Gilda's ears perked up at Gordon Skewer’s mention of the carriage.
“Most of the gear has already been packed away. We are going over the final checks. However, we are ready, my Lady!” The normally dour Captain was unusually enthusiastic.
“Then let us depart. We will be intercepted by Kom’andat Thorncrest shortly after we take to the air.” She paused a moment and cocked her head, a clawed finger tracing her beak. “If I'm not mistaken, there are two islands we can make use of on the journey back, correct?”
“Absolutely, my Lady. Hegemon, and Mudspike. I suggest we land on Hegemon. Mudspike unfortunately lives up to its namesake this time of year, and I do not believe we are keen to be entombed in it.”
“See to informing the Kom’andat then when we meet up. Hauptleute, you are clear to resume your duties.”
“At once, my Lady!” Snapping a quick salute, which many of the others mimicked, he turned and marched out the door, his soldiers following suit quickly.
“Huh, the hell is a “Hauptleute”?”
Orion's voice was certainly a spellbreaker. Gilda hadn't even remembered he was there.
“Oh, it means Captain. It's an old Griffaic term. I'm beginning to think my cousin's embracing of old traditions is something to share in.” Lady Fairheart shook her head, a sad smile twisting her beak. “I am also beginning to think we've lost ourselves embracing other cultures as we have.”
The colt's eyes were wide with worry. Was he bothered by her more formal conduct?
“Just let's not get any ideas of heavy nationalism and blaming others, okay?” He joked though the context was lost on the Sergeant and Noble Hen both.
“No.” Grace shook her head. “While I may suspect, like my Uncle, that our downfall was brought by others, we are still responsible for our own destinies.” She paused, smiling. “If nothing else, you have taught me that our futures or our own. We need to seek the wisdom of the past but not allow the chains of it to bind us.”
“When the hell did I teach you that?” Orion’s face quirked into bafflement.
Her Ladyship, Grace Fairheart, just smiled and poked his nose before heading out the door herself.
The colt's nose wiggled, and he rubbed at it, frowning into his hand, and then his eyes snapped to Gilda's.
“The fuck was that about?”
The hen thought for a moment, then nodded.
“I think her Ladyship has grown a little. That's all.”
“”That's all?” Is she drugged or something?” Orion asked, obviously worried. She slugged him in the arm.
“Come on, idiot. Or we will be left behind!” She laughed and bounded out the door after her Lady.
“I think the carriage is fine, Orion. Why are you insisting on checking it over yourself?”
Orion clicked his tongue in response, a habit he had somehow picked up from the locals of Neighbon. He wasn't quite sure, but he believed it was used to delay a response as they thought something over, that’s how he used at least. Kind of like how griffons tapped the side of their beak when thinking, another habit he found himself doing more of late. “Damned impressionable mind.”
Lying prone on his back, he was less looking for damage but feeling it out, running a low-scale magic scan over everything he touched. Fingers that traced the grain of wood and straps of metal acted as a sonar of sorts, penetrating into the material of each as his hands quickly passed over them.
He had not mentioned it to Grace or anyone else, for that matter, but part of his paranoia was the Church of Sol. More accurately, the researchers who had initially seemed to ignore him when he had first stepped hoof in their museum. Yet, as the days wore on, he suddenly began spotting them in his daily life—just one or two at a time, but everywhere he was.
At first, he thought it was quite ridiculous. Daily excursions for them had to be murder. They were dressed in these white habits that covered their entire body, with this red sun blazoned upon the chest—not too subtle of them. But as he thought about it more and more, he began to realize something important. Why did they need to hide? It was their town, after all. They lived here, and he was just a guest.
Given these facts, he tried to shrug it off, yet one night, a mild curiosity took him, and he used his radar enchantment and poked around outside the inn. That's when he knew his paranoia had done a victory lap.
Down alleyways, on side streets, every location in which a dark space could be located, he could find one of them at any given point in time. They were always gazing in the inn's direction. Only a couple here or there, but they were always watching. Since then, he had been on high alert.
The idea of getting drunk last night had been a reckless choice, but if he didn't do something about the stress, he was likely going to explode. In this case, confront them in a very public setting. Which, of course, would have been terrible for Grace, as it would have put even more pressure on her. The risk was made manageable only by the barrier spell he slowly built up in his room using charged crystals. Even if they had come for him, he would have been well alerted to their attempt before the barrier had been broken.
Now, he was worried about sabotage because it was no secret which carriage was theirs. The more refined, slightly gaudy decorations were kind of a dead give-away.
“Ah.”
And there it was, carefully hidden away where the tongue and straps were anchored by a set of steel brackets. The metal of those brackets had been magically altered, and the strength in the bonds between atoms weakened.
If they had broken while in flight, it would have likely meant either death or the very least, a stranding out in the ocean.
“Okay, now that I found the problem, what can be done about it?” Shimming back out, he ignored Grace's unspoken question as he approached one of the platform workers.
“Got a question for ya, bud.” He asked, his tone light and pleasant while his insides roiled.
“Um, can I help you…sir?” Judging by his outfit, the hippogriff was more akin to a repair mechanic than one of the servers. That was perfect for Orion. He needed roadside assistance. As there was no Triple A here, the grease-hippo would have to do.
“Sorry to bother ya. But do you have a spare set of metal brackets for the tongue and line strap?”
“We do…” the mechanic slowly said. “Why?”
“Well, it's the damndest thing,” his country twang, he had found, gave him more leeway with some folks, “I was doing a once over and found the metal brackets to be worse for the wear. Any chance I can get a new set installed?” He flashed three one-hundred-count bits, and the drake's eyes widened in surprise.
“Certainly, sir!” His now more amenable tone spoke wonders. “I can have them replaced within the hour.”
“Excellent!” Orion cheered, stuffing the three fat coins into the mechanic's suit.” That's for the speedy service.” Handing over another two, he said. “And this is for the parts themselves.”
With a beak-stretching grin, the hippogriff nodded eagerly and rushed off to retrieve his tools and the needed parts.
“Care to explain what that was about?” Grace's question nor her sudden appearance did not surprise him. Now, being on high alert, he was aware of everything everyone else was doing around him.
“I'll show you.” His growl. Which caused both of the hen’s eyebrows to rise, but she didn't say anything and followed after him.
Reaching the carriage, he reached under it, his horn glowing a little brighter. He put power into his muscles, limbs, and joints. With a loud screeching sound, he tore one of the straps completely loose. One side of the cart's tongue sagged, and the strapline dropped completely.
“Orion?! What was that?” She demanded.
He shook his head. She hadn't put it together yet.
“I tore that off rather easily.” He looked at the warped metal in his grip, his scan now being more obvious as the band was involved in the gold-black of his magic. Even the screws had been messed with. “Someone, and I can't be certain who, though I have my suspicions, tampered with these not too long ago.” Bouncing the steel in his hand a couple of times, he tossed it at her. “Those would have torn off right in the middle of our flight.”
Grace's eyes widened in alarm before a glare took over.
“Who?” Was all she asked.
“Nu-uh, not till we are in the air and well away from this place. I don't know what the plan might be, but the less they know of who we suspect, the better.”
In truth, he was still trying to puzzle out why. Was there a standing order for him to be arrested by the Church's agents? Who had authorized this idea, and what had they expected to happen? With sinking dread, he wondered if the Church of Sol somehow knew what he was doing up here in the north.
Soon, and quicker than an hour, the mechanic had returned and installed the new brackets, tisking at him over the torn-out chunks when he learned it was Orion’s doing. The new holes were drilled, the bolts anchored, and with a final wave and a smile on his beak, the hippogriff bid them safe travels and booked it back to the far side of the landing pad.
“Grace.” He stopped her from asking the obvious question. “I did go over the whole carriage, the brackets were the only thing they fucked with. Let's get some distance from us and this place.” A mare had been watching them for the better part of an hour, her blonde mane shimmering in the midmorning light. Her lab coat had been replaced with workman's day clothes, but she hadn't bothered to mask herself much further.
Book Heart stood in the shade of one of the supported landing platforms, her eyes locked onto where he, Grace, and her guards milled about, preparing for takeoff.
Their eyes met, and he glared. Hard.
For the mare, her eyes widened in shock. She shuffled quickly back toward the city before much else could be transmitted by looks alone. Her head turned to glance back at him a little too often.
“And here I thought she was a nice girl.”
Author's Note
"You're late."
"No I'm not. It's still Monday."
"Don't split hairs with us! What's the deal?"
"Well, I got sick-
So yeah, wasn't feeling to hot this morning or yesterday. Only now have I been able to rouse myself from the total cocoon of my bed. Again, this chapter had no editor other than myself, I'm sure you guys will find mistakes.
Next week, chapter 29 will be getting a bit of a retcon, didn't like how one of the characters turned out, so I am altering the story.
Pray I don't alter it further.
Hope you all had a wonderful weekend, and that a great week is coming your way.
Thanks for reading!
Peace.
Dodged a Blade
The journey back was largely uneventful. However, as Orion explained to Grace just who he suspected of the sabotage of the metal brackets holding the tongue in place, he had to almost physically restrain the noblegriffon.
When he got to the part where he had spotted Booh Heart, and she had practically fled back down the path into Neighbon, his noble friend was halfway out of her seat to order the turnaround of the entire carriage, including keeping her from issuing orders to the troops now at her command. It took him a significant amount of charm and convincing to keep the hen in her seat and from doing anything other than absorbing the information.
For his trouble, he was once again lectured about keeping secrets from her.
It only got worse when he confessed to her about the Church having watchers surround the inn and follow them poorly throughout the city as they enjoyed their time. He explained that the likely source of them was the museum he and Gilda had gone to the second day in town.
That did not go over well, and he winced when she called his guard friend in to berate her as well for not saying anything about it.
After that, Grace decided not to speak with him for the rest of the day. Or evening, for that matter, noticing with a bit of anger that his bedroll had been placed with the soldiers and well away from the fire. A fire he had started for them.
Yet, he understood her stance and couldn't blame her anger. His constant and blatant hiding of information she should have known had driven a wedge between the pair. It had begun long ago, but with her sudden shift in attitude towards him, the gaps were now far more noticeable.
She and her retinue were as equally in danger as he was, and by not telling her, none of them were the wiser to the risk. That was likely, as Thorncrest would say, unsatisfactory.
Speaking of the griffon commander, it was clear he shared his Lady's current distrust of him. But while hers was a deep disappointment in his continued secretive behavior, his seemed steeped in suspicion of the pony who had somehow wormed his way into the otherwise good graces of the Royal Family.
Apparently, Bloodbeak had not seen fit to inform the officer of just what was going on.
“Eh, once we get to Aviary, he'll understand. Or try and strangle me, either or.”
Despite her anger at him, he knew he was right. What could she have done? From what he could learn, the group running the museum was seen as nothing but beneficial for the tiny city-state.
They promoted events to set up relief efforts when storms battered the city into submission. They even offered cash assistance for families when a pillar fell and destroyed all that was built inside—a rare thing, the last happening twenty-two years ago. Yet still, for all intents and purposes, the Church of Sol in Neighbon was seen as a net positive.
The worst that might have happened was the populace at large would regard them with suspicion themselves. A group of relative strangers claiming nefarious intent by what had been seen as their neighbors and friends?
That would not have gone over well.
Upon the second day, the noble hen must have seen that his reasoning had ultimately been, while not correct, possibly the most prudent course of action.
Telling her while they were in the city might have just made it worse for all of them. The black pony couldn't have imagined she would have acted like nothing was happening, and she reluctantly agreed that it would not have been outside her character to order them all back to Aviary sooner rather than later.
It had been difficult enough for Orion to hide his awareness, especially as he wanted to pound their heads in himself. Grace Fairheart had a terrible poker face and would've been all over the first one to be spotted the very next day. That would have let the cat out of the bag and all the ramifications that went with it.
During lulls in the conversation, he had taken to fiddling with his enchantments again. However, as he proceeded to crack the issue, he became very alarmed.
While adding what was essentially a rangefinder to his radar , he discovered an issue. An issue he had created through his ignorance and boredom.
Somehow, through unknown means, with the new enchantment’s installation, he removed the feature that allowed him to see roughly ten feet past walls. Now, there was nothing. It did not activate at all. That was the reason why he had not known of the Church's agents being around the inn at first.
It had taken him stepping out onto his personal veranda to pick up that they were there.
When he assembled the second matrix, he thought he had kept both lines of spell code separate. But now, as he peered into their individual construction, he noticed that parts of the spells had fused in a way he could not explain.
The section of fused mathematics and programming damaged the original structure or its matrix in such a way that part of the build was cut off completely, leaving a powerless section not operating at all. He had really dodged the whole accidentally killing them off by the barest of margins. Fortunately, the mess of connections had pulled the excess build-up power back into the ether like a grounding wire.
“Perhaps it's the size of the circuits?” He mused thoughtfully, gently prodding at a portion of the gold wire, noting the flair of magical energy that pulsed dully. Apart from the assembly, it did not light up at all.
He sighed and regarded the Bat-carved charm wryly. This was the third version of his Radar and the first with that carving. The phoenix had been a bit too much. Considering this wasn't a revival aid, it made more sense that the jewelry acted as a sonar, thus the change.
Given that this device was slimmer than previous creations, Orion had been forced to go as thin as possible. A needle-like white diamond sat comfortably wrapped in the gold filament. The diamond was one of his few remaining gems from that impromptu robbery on the street corner all those years ago.
“Yeah, maybe there is only so much you can fit in something so small. Or,” he frowned, “I'm missing something. God, I wish I could take a look at Celestia’s gate one more time.”
There had been a lot he hadn't understood then, peering into the inner workings of that monstrosity, and while trial and error had been his friend for more than a few years now, he seemed to have run into a wall. Another look, even taking some notes, would have taken him further than he was now.
It was a puzzle, one that his equipment below the streets of Canterlot couldn't solve any longer. He needed more.
“Perhaps…I should have…no, that would have been too risky. Stealing from the museum? Hah! I'd have been pegged for sure.”
“Orion. We are here.” Grace's voice broke him from his thoughts as he let go of the braid with the bat charm and blinked in surprise. Had it really been that long already?
“Already?” He asked, parroting his thoughts. “How come it took almost three days to get to Neighbon? But only a day and some change to get back.”
“The winds coming up are much stronger, allowing us to proceed farther.” She snickered softly. “Mostly, the team pulling us has simply been coasting on the winds. As well as Kom’adant Thorncrest’s own griffons replacing our own in mid-flight.”
“Really…” He mused, impressed by not even noticing the changeover. A thought he had pushed down before they left for the tropical vacation reared its head again. “Say, how are you guys capable of keeping this carriage afloat?”
“Pardon? Oh!” She said brightly, some of her new cool reserve cracking a bit. “As you are aware, Pegasi can project their innate magic into things they carry, such as carts.” He nodded along. That was common knowledge after all, though weird as hell how they did it. “Well, to a lesser extent, we can too. Only it would take more than one, depending on the weight of the load they are to essentially carry. A carriage this size may only take two or three Pegasi to tow. However, we need seven to get it to move. Seven Griffons to move it easily and not put too much strain on the team.”
He cocked his head in thought, his ears popping with the drop in altitude.
“It feels like you guys got screwed over in the genetics lottery.” He responded after a moment.
“Genetics? What do you mean?”
That was a tricky question to answer without the sticky details of DNA and evolution.
“Well,” he began slowly, “it's kinda like how I can use magic but cannot fly.” He pointed to her. “Or how you can fly but not really be able to use magic outside of talent or skill. In the case of Griffons and Pegasi, we are comparing two flying races. The Pegasi seem to have a disproportionate advantage in terms of messing with weather patterns, carrying heavy shit with ease, and being faster in the skies overall.”
“Ah, I suppose that is true. But you forget. We can fly higher, due to our wider span of wings, as well as quieter. Also, we can see far better in the darkness than Pegasi can.” She smiled lightly and displayed the claws on her hand. “And, of course, let's not forget the natural weapons we are born with.”
“Huh, you're right. Just hadn't thought about any of it till now.” He nodded, tapping his muzzle, to which he earned a smirk from Grace. “What?”
“You seemed to have picked up some habits from us.” Her smirk became a broad smile.
“Ah, shit.” He muttered. “Damn impressionable mind.”
Shortly after his arrival in Aviary, he had found himself more and more doing what he had come to call the “thought-tap”. The hen across from him had begun teasing him about it the first time she noticed.
“Oh, don't be mad, Orion. Think of it as you having absorbed some culture from us, is all.” Her smile was slight and carried with it a note of sorrow.
The colt noticed the smile and carefully sighed inwardly.
Besides the silent treatment, Orion had noticed a distinct lack of space invasion by her on the return journey. When before, during the trip to and while in Neighbon, she had been constantly touching him on the shoulder, or back, now her hands remained firmly in her lap. Or wrapped around a book.
He remembered his grandfather saying something about taming farm animals by touching them and letting them feel your touch and smell your scent so you no longer bothered them. One of the first stages in taming any animal safely.
During those moments when her fingers met his fur or clothes, he felt very much like the donkey that had kicked him when he got too close after thinking it was safe during a school field trip. It had only been five minutes, which, upon reflection, was not enough time for anyone to get used to anything.
By now, she would have been pushing him or something, so her lack thereof was a good sign of her resolve. Yet, he missed that portion of their friendship. It was dumb and hypocritical, but there it was.
With a somewhat hard jolt that shuddered through his seat and into his ass, shouts from outside informed the pair that there were more than just troops in the landing zone.
Orion huffed, already anticipating the wide range of issues that likely cropped up after his departure. There was no way the lot had managed to work out all his notes properly, and he was dreading the corrections he would have to make just to get them back on track.
Looking over, the colt regarded his friend. Her fingers delicately worked the straps to one of her satchels, the claws not hindering her in the least as she cinched a few of the leather tabs.
“This is right,” he said to himself as he watched. We can't do this to each other anymore, and she isn't the only one sending mixed signals. Yet,” a little voice in his head spoke softly, “perhaps one day when you're your own man.”
He shrugged. That would have to be an answer for Future Orion.
Besides, what he told Roderick on that pier was true enough, and he was happy with the results regardless of how much it stung.
However, he had left out the sinking feeling in his gut that there was more to the world than what came out in the Daily Sounder . Something was amiss that he could not quite put a finger on, but the sensation that there was a wrongness wouldn't leave him.
But those unspoken feelings were just more grains of sand piled on. He did not want to carry that load if he could help it.
Grabbing his bag, he stepped down and out of the carriage and refrained from offering his hand to Grace.
In the two days they had been in this newfound paradigm, he had found that the no-touching rule had gone beyond just her now-forgotten flirtations. She did not take his hand when entering and exiting the coach, nor did she sit in any way close to him. As if she couldn't trust him, or more likely, herself.
It was no surprise, really.
He had known she was in her room when Roderick had started in on his shit again. Rather than blow him off like usual, he found he had an opportunity to make things clear for both of them without having to approach her about it personally. It was a brilliant ploy, but it left him feeling sick with regret.
“I am such a coward.”
Stepping away from the entrance to the cab, Grace soon appeared, stepping down gracefully as the Burgermeister and the remaining elders approached after the royal hen waved away Thorncrest's soldiers. Those idiots had actually placed hands on curved swords with a ready stance to go with it.
“Ah, Lady Fairheart!” The new mayor called out, briefly shooting the stink eye at the guards who begrudgingly moved out of her way. “It is so good of you to return, but I thought you were not scheduled to be back for another few days. Did something happen?” Gertrude Stillbeak asked with mild concern, but only just. The hen looked happy. No, downright excited.
“Something good happened?” He mused.
“No,” she shook her head. I believed it was just time to return. The summer is coming to an end soon, and I want my business in the Aviary done—before Orion returns home, that is. I fear I shall be unable to return for quite some time.”
Before arriving, they decided that it was best not to tell the local leadership of anything that had gone down in Neighbon, including the limited interactions with the Church. Considering last month's events, it wasn't really their problem, and neither of them could see the benefit of bringing more panic to the village.
“Oh, well, we are excited for your return.” She beamed. “Come, see what has been done in only a matter of a few days!” She shot a smirk at Orion before turning and walking away arm-in-arm with Grace.
“Okay, what did you all do while I was gone?”
He goggled at the wall that ran from a rock ridge to the north, all the way south. It was massive and stood at least 3 paces taller than himself and thick enough to support the walkway and rail frame that was built into the side around the gate. On the village side, of course.
As per his instructions, iron caps were placed above and under the ground on the ends of the wood pikes at regular intervals. Iron brackets, stretching from one post to another, added a nice touch and even more support to the thick grey wood.
What shocked him was that the project was done. For the most part, at least, the gate still needed a little framing work, but it was up to more or less. How had they managed to get so much done in such a short amount of time?
The colt had also found himself a little stunned at the town itself when they had passed through on their way to the wall.
Hanging garden terraces hung from nearly every home, made of iron and clay, packed with dirt. He hadn't proposed that. But the iron caps he suggested for the supports of homes were there, too.
On further thought, his only suggestion was to dig out the dirt and line the metal lattices with wood before putting the soil and plants back in. He was not sure if tetanus existed but was not eager to find out. Instead, they had decided to work clay into molded pots for the plants now growing there.
Standing at the gate and looking back into the village, he smiled.
“Alright. Now, how did you guys do on the main project?” That got a lot of smarmy grins, and not just from the griffons. The Dogs themselves were looking rather smug as they practically shoved him toward the hill to the east.
The Foundry had to be the greatest change in the village, excluding the refurbished barracks that the new soldiers who had arrived with them were now occupying.
Three kilns were fired up, taking advantage of the rising air pressure floor, the inflow from the cliffs, and the massive bellows on the slides to keep the flames going with plenty of oxygen. The once-collapsing structure that surrounded the ancient forges had been completely replaced with the same gray wood that lined the town's border.
It looked like someone took stone and tried to make it look like timber, though meters of the stuff surrounded each furnace. His concern about a fire hazard was dismissed upon seeing that. When he spotted the splash marks on the wood, they just laughed it off and explained that Ironwood didn't burn easily. No matter how many accidents, splashes like that wouldn't have done a thing.
There were plenty of vents in the roof, propped open on top of the slightly slanted rooftop, so workers didn't sweat to death or choke on the fumes. That was one of the reasons this facility had been placed by the cliff; air currents could easily keep the workers cool during the worst of the day.
Speaking of workers, it was a maelstrom of activity. Griffons and Iron Dogs milled about in a coordinated fashion that he could see yet not explain. They hadn't had traffic accidents as of yet. With leather vests and guards on exposed limbs, these smiths were light on their paws, shouting orders over one another as a stream of large sand casings was hustled out by a team to sit on a hill facing the northeastern winds.
From the other side of the Foundry, Orion could see a stream of Dogs, no longer looking as emaciated as they had once been, running with packs full of ore on their backs. They would duck before rushing back out. They were not nearly as fast as the smiths but strangely ignored him and his party.
“Since when did they get all business-like?”
“You guys had a week and a half. There is no fucking way you got all this done in just that short amount of time!” He shouted over the din, walking out of the forge with the head smith, Godrick. True, Aviary had more than a thousand citizens if you took in all the outlying farms and hamlets with no name. That not including the Dogs themselves living in town, but all this had to be nearly impossible to get done in so short a time.
Right?
Around them was a gaggle of other villagers. Orion had no head to learn or remember their names, all pointing at some such thing they had done or that they had helped in this section, excitedly babbling at the pony. All while simultaneously clapping each other on the back at the same time.
It was all a whirl for the human-turned-horse, and he was having trouble finding his equilibrium.
“Hah! The colt thinks we can't follow simple directions, ya’d think he never seen working Griffs and Dogs before!” A round of chuckles broke through, temporarily stemming the tide of conversation.
“Well, no, I haven't.” He admitted with a grimace. “But this,” he gestured to the houses and town wall, which in most places was beginning to have walkways built in the side of it that the gate had, “is way too much for the amount of time.” He turned to the head smith. “How?!”
Godrick’s face took on a speculative look. He nodded thoughtfully.
“Colt. For years, we've just been getting by. Our little town was once a city, though you wouldn't know it back when ya first arrived.” Patting Orion's shoulder, he smiled. “Ya lit a fire under our tail feathers. Reminded us what made us Aviary. Steel forged here had once been known as Windforged Steel. Now, with what you've provided, it literally is!” He chuckled. “Workers from all the little hamlets around got sent in once they heard the news.” Alarm flashed across his face, and the old drake smiled. “Don't you worry none. That ain't been told nothing they don't need to know. We all know better’n that!”
The colt thought over that for a moment. That didn't make any sense. Iron was just discovered in recent years to be in plenty here. How had they been a steel town before then?
“Wait, that doesn't make sense, you guys had a forge, true. But the area around us had yet to be developed with mines. How was this place a major smithing town?”
“Ah, true, we never really had much in the way of mines and such back then. The raw materials were shipped in, ya see?” The smith gave him a quizzical look. “Didn't ya bother to look at the history of the place before coming here?”
Orion paused, then gave a sheepish grin. No, he had not. He wanted somewhere remote and with enough room for the metal shop he had been planning, and Grace's lone province had provided him just that. The bonus of ground already broken for a smithy was just icing on his proverbial cake.
“No, I can't say that I did. I just wanted somewhere out of the way and not on anyone's mind to try my little experiment out.” He chuckled. “I just wanted something remote, ya know?”
“Aye. That makes sense, and I believe previous rulers thought the same thing. Mostly, I think, ‘cause they were afraid of you Equestrians.” He nodded gravely. “Back then, there was a lot of mistrust between our two peoples.”
“Yeah.” He muttered. “I think there is still a healthy amount of that left.”
“True, but you're a’right for a pone.” That was punctuated with a back slap and a round of chuckles from the others. “A’right, would you like to see them?” Godrick's smile was infectious as a grin broke out on his own.
“Judging by that smile, I'd say my participation is moot at this point, but yes. Where are they?”
The group, as one, practically dragged Orion around the Foundry. More specifically, the storage room that was built in connection to the larger workshop.
Taking a peek inside, the pony had to blink several times to adjust to the low light. Fully stepping inside the warehouse, he looked at the nearest rack and sighed in relief.
Reaching over, he picked up the steel ingot and scanned it immediately with his magic. The horn on his head provided better illumination as he noticed that the steel bars had the impression of a sigil upon them, yet not enough to understand what it meant.
The bar was real, though the quality he had worked with in Canterlot was better. Still carrying the metal, he stepped out and waved Godrick over.
“Hey, I noticed that while this is damn good, its quality is a bit low.” He said in hushed tones. The smith nodded gravely.
“Aye. That one is one of the first we cast.” Walking past and into the building, he soon reappeared with another, more pristine-looking ingot. “This came off the Airing Fields yesterday. We figured we could use the first castings for stuff ‘ere in the village.”
Orion took the proffered bar and looked it over. Noting the shine and the strange stamp. Embracing his magic once more, his thoughtful frown vanished, as his scan showed a significant drop in impurities.
“Now, this is more like it. I was worried I was going to come back and this all to be a shit storm.” He laughed with relief. “But I got a question for you. Two, actually.” Handing both pieces off to an apprentice who rushed back inside the warehouse, he addressed the master smith. “One, “Airing Fields”?”
“Ah, that comes from our forefathers and mothers. The Airing Fields are mostly for your typical drying of laundry or foodstuff we want to preserve for the winter. However, back in the day, when we were manufacturing steel like now, our predecessors took to casting at night and leaving the metal to cool in the morn near the cliffs.” He tapped his beak in the way all griffons seemed to. “If I member correctly, it was believed that the wind had magical properties that stuck to the steel or iron as they cooled.” The old bird grinned. “That's why we called it Windforged Steel.”
Orion opened his mouth to abject. Then he closed it. In this crazy magical world, it would not do well to just dismiss something like that. Considering magic did, in fact, propagate into everything and everyone, there may be something to the claim.
“Mind wasting one of the new ingots tonight to test that hypothesis?” He asked with a soothing smile.
“I don't see why not.” Godrick paused. “Not trusting the process?”
“It's not so much that, but understanding the effect. Such as, is it only the wind from here that works, or will you get different effects should you leave it in a forest to cool instead. What about in a cage?” He paused as the bird cat waved for him to stop.
“Easy, fledgling. Ya gonna make us do all of that? Just to figure out whether it works or not?”
Orion shrugged in response, already throwing a list of options to test theory against hard-learned facts.
“If there is a way to confirm that Windforged Steel is stronger than, say…heh, Woodforged Steel, wouldn't you wanna know? Maybe your ancestors were onto something and didn't know they could take it further.” He gestured to the Foundry. “By the look of things, the Iron Dogs have been keeping you well stocked. What's a little experimentation going to cost you?”
Scratching at his beak, the smith nodded. “Hmm. Ya just may have a point there.” His brow furrowed before he sighed and gave his own shrug. “I don't see the ‘arm. Let's do it in a couple of days once you and her Ladyship have settled in again. It'll give me time to set a schedule for it all.”
“Fair enough, and to backtrack to my other question, the hell is it that's stamped on the top of those bars?”
“Ah, Master Lonelycall thought it'd be a grand idea to, um…what's the word, ah! To serialize the merchandise. Make it easier to track what goes where.” He nodded with confidence as he gestured to the numbers below the emblem.
“And the imagery?” Orion pressed.
“Ah, that, I'm sorry, colt. But the image didn't come out quite right. We been working on making the stamper better. It's supposed to be a griffon wing and a unicorn's horn crossed over each other.”
The black pony's stomach dropped. “Yeah, I am gonna go out on a limb and say the horn is supposed to be mine. Right?”
“It is indeed. Hard to get them little squiggly lines you have etched into that thing right, though. Comes out looking like a sword or a…” He broke off with a wheezing laugh.
“Or a penis. Ya calling me a dickhead?”
Around him, those that hadn't wandered off while he was dithering over the details, griffons and dogs, burst out laughing. He shared in their mirth a bit. He kinda was if he thought about it.
“Still, leave it as a sword or a dick, I don't care. But no figuring out how to forge my bone on metal.” He raised his hands to forestall any protest. “If you remember, I'm not supposed to have any connection to this place other than I've been here. I think it'd be hard to explain it all away as a coincidence if these start circulating outside the country. Which we both know won't take long.” He grinned. “That steel you bunch made is just as good as Equestrian.”
“Might actually be better. I'll need a bar of our own to make sure, but there might be something to this Windforged Steel nonsense.” He would keep the composition of the steel memorized if he never got the chance while in the country.
Speaking of keeping a cover. Whatever went on while he was away, every buzzard and mutt knew who was really responsible for the changes that had begun in their little town. At this point all he could really do was damage control.
Fortunately, as Godrick has stated, those who came from the collection of farms outside the village didn't seem to know anything. He had noted the strange look he was getting from a lot of unfamiliar griffons, and now, with the reasoning, he was more at ease about it.
“Aye, I can see yer point. Even if I do think it's a shame.” Godrick really looked downtrodden about the whole thing.
“Eh, don't sweat it, dude.” He clapped the burly bird on the shoulder. “What's important is that my theories are proven facts now. From agriculture to smithing. Speaking of produce, how are the farms doing?”
“Ah, that would have to be addressed to Lord Barker.”
Orion blinked in shock, then smacked his forehead. “Oh yeah, duh. The Provisional Lord in place till the Council of Lords either approves or picks someone else.” Nodding, he continued. “If they're smart, they’ll leave the little guy in charge. His people love him, and they'll get more cooperation out of the Iron Dogs if they leave things be.”
“Aye, Gertrude is likely already telling her Ladyship that.” The smith confirmed, picking at something in his neck feathers and flicking it away. “But if ya want Ol' Barney, he would be out in the fields right about now. He's really taking his role seriously.”
“Huh, how about that? And all it took was a kick in the nuts and a sucker punch.” He grinned.
“Okay, I'll do that. You all have fun and put that schedule together.” With another pat on his back, Orion made his way away from the Foundry and towards the farms.
Noting the line of Iron Dogs waiting to offload their packs, he made a note to talk to them about minecarts and tracks later. Anything to make it a little easier for a people that had suffered so much.
Grace couldn't sit still. Night had finally fallen, but her body still hummed with energy despite the long day of travel and updates with the council.
“He did it!”
She wanted to kick her legs and scream! But she could not indulge in that fledgling act. No. It was unbecoming of her, and considering the promises she had made to herself and Orion, it would not do to break discipline now. There would be time for joy later.
Sitting at the long table, she allowed herself a smile as she watched others mill about in the mayor's manner in the hall, now turned into a meeting and dining hall, and feast on the bounty the large kitchen in the back had churned out.
Several cookfires had been built outside in the village clearing for Thorncrest's own soldiers to use. Everyone was celebrating their success.
Orion, the pony that had made this all possible, was sitting in a corner off near the Southside of the building, laughing uproariously and pounding on Barney Barker’s back so hard the little Dog nearly toppled off the chair. With mild disapproval, she noticed the mug of alcohol in his hand but dismissed it. It was not her business what he did with himself as long as he stayed safe from now on.
Seeing him as she did now still hurt, and it would seem he somehow, and most fortunate, picked up the message that they were beginning to grow apart—that they needed to, for her sake.
“And mares said stallions were dumb as rocks.”
Though it could have been from the tension between them. He might have been more aware of the change than others in his position would have been. Still, his time with her had come to an end, and the sooner the colt left, the sooner she could truly heal.
However, Grace couldn't afford to slip. Not now. Maintaining that wall, while painful, was necessary if she were to ever get over the heartbreak. Perhaps in time, she may reach out to him again. When she was older and wiser.
“I could really use Auntie’s advice right about now.” The royal hen lamented. “Speaking of advice. Where is Master Lonelycall?”
Since her arrival, she had not seen feather or fur of the secretary. In the excitement, she had not really noticed other than in passing. Yet, now, with the evening coming to a close, she was beginning to grow concerned.
The elders of the town had not seen him. Nor had Gertrude, for that matter. However, the older hen did mention that the thin drake was not eating right, or sleeping well for that matter.
As if summoned by thought alone, Eberhard Lonelycall stepped into the hall. The normal fastidious griffon looked worn and haggard, his coat of red and black unbuttoned completely, exposing the stained white linen shirt beneath. That was certainly out of character for the reedy secretary.
His gaze swept the room, but rather than pausing on her, it continued on before coming to a stop on Orion. Perhaps not out of place, considering it was her friend's knowledge that allowed her this chance to make Aviary into the prosperous town it once was. But, his face seemed to pale, if that was somehow possible.
Shaking his head, he re-scanned the room till his eyes fell on her. Rather than brighten, they looked haunted. As if he held terrible news.
Grace beckoned him over and politely shooed one of the more inebriated elders away. The old griff toddling off made her smile slightly before she fixed the absent secretary with a gentle look as he sat on the edge of the bench with her.
“Master Lonelycall, it looks like you haven't slept in days.” She forced a chuckle to take the sting out of her words but frowned when he simply shook his head.
“I'm afraid it's just the opposite. Forgive my appearance, but I unfortunately just rouse myself from my bed.” He paused, shaking his head again. “I have news. Yet I'm not sure how to tell you of it. It's….complicated, and I fear more conjecture than hard facts.” He lowered his voice. “However, I wish I was uncertain, my Lady.”
Grace was thoroughly confused and alarmed. His words seemed to be rambling, he was nervous but why was yet left to drift in the wind. It didn't help that he had licked his beak at least three times since he began speaking to her. The poor drake’s nerves were shot.
“However, I am certain…” he paused, cocking his head, “as certain as one can be without solid proof.” He muttered more to himself than her.
“Master Lonelycall. What is wrong?” The royal hen put as much comfort in her words as she possibly could. “What has you so out of sorts?”
“Well, my Lady,” he began before the bang of double doors halted him, and they both stared as one of the new soldiers came rushing in.
His armor was smoking, as were a few feathers. Had someone fallen into one of the cookfires?
“Marauders!” He cried, searching for her in the crowd. “Marauders are attempting to storm the town!”
The entire hall erupted into shouts of fear and anger. Villagers and odd duty soldiers bolted to their feet, both the latter and former looking slightly unsteady as they dashed out into the night. Hens gathered up chicks and, surprisingly, pups and ushered them out the back, making soothing noises that Grace could not hear.
Rising, she placed herself in front of the shaken guard, grabbing his shoulders firmly.
“You've trained for this. Uncle Bloodbeak has trained me for…whatever the problem is, panicking will not help anyone.” She took a breath and spoke in a calm but authoritative voice.
“Name and rank?”
“I-uh, Sergeant Blacktree, Ma'am!”
“Okay, Sergeant.” It was a conscious effort to use the old Griffaic, so she skipped the unneeded step in such a dire situation. “What is going on? Don't babble, only what I need to know.”
“Uh, okay.” Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. “The warning almost came too late.” He gestured westward. “Bandits, best as we can tell they waited till full dark. Perhaps thinking they could catch us unaware. In-in either case, we managed to beat them off the wall. The gate still stands!” He said with conviction. “But not before suffering some casualties.”
How? More importantly, why now? Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Orion already moving, his horn blazing like a torch as he rushed into the darkness outside, glaring hatefully.
“Anything else?” Grace dreaded the answer. Before he left, she noticed her friend's eyes looking above, not straight ahead, above. What could that mean? The sound of something bursting above caused a new wave of screams to rip through the remaining gathered crowd.
“We…uh, we, I mean Commander Thorncrest, believes we are being besieged by unicorns, my Lady.”
“Why the fuck now!?” Orion shook his head as he redoubled his efforts to run as fast and as far away as he could from the hall.
This whole trip has been a disaster. It had its upsides, a lot of those. But every time he believed he had gotten out of all the trouble that was coming his way, some new bullshittery would rear its head and attempt to fuck him over.
A hollow thump drew his eyes skyward.
Before he had gotten ten paces, a massive fireball the size of a house lobbed over the wall, right toward where many of the griffons were taking refuge, the hall he just hoofed it from.
He, having no idea what the hell to do as nothing in school had taught him how to destroy fucking fireballs, decided that now was as good a time as any for an idea that had been kicking around in his skull since he shattered the nullstone ring that sunny afternoon.
It was a gamble, but even with all the enchantments and the two bands around his biceps, there was no way he could combat something forged by at least four unicorn mages. Nor did he even have an idea of just diverting the projectile away from its intended target. Anywhere it hit would be a disaster.
“It doesn't have to last long, so there are no containment issues to worry about there. The real trick is if I can actually hit the fucking thing.”
Looking about he spotted a dropped chunk of ore. He quickly diverted course and scooped it up. There was a shrill wine in the air, and Orion looked up to see that the ball of flame had reached its zenith and was now descending. Fast.
“I thought that shit was a movie trope!”
Going on gut rather than fully formed knowledge, the black colt built a messy matrix of convoluted math and spellcraft, channeling all of it into debris in his palm.
“Ow! Hot! HOT!” He screamed as he hurled the sudden overloading ordinance right toward the sphere of fire.
For a second, he believed it had failed. The larger boiling mass swallowed up his attempt at deflection as the stone met flame. It seemed his try at a defense had come to nothing.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!
The resulting explosion was a bit too close and unexpected. The blast wave knocked Orion clear off his still-running hooves and into a pile of wood scrap.
“Oh, fuck…me…” The black pony muttered, rubbing his head as he cracked his eyes and looked at the sky again.
The flaming ball of death was no more; the mayoral hall still stood, though a few scorch marks could be seen in the slim moonlight above.
“Okay, neat. It worked. Now what?”
“What in the fuck was that?!” Screeched Gilda, skidding to a halt beside him her wings kicking up enough dust to nearly blind him.
“I…uh…can explain. But I don't think we have the time for details.” He stumbled from the pile and blinked several times.
“Okay.” The hen's eyes fixed him to the spot. “Can you do it again?”
“Yeah, ah. Yeah, I can do that again.” He wiped his face with his hands. “But I need something that can hold a charge. Better than a rock, at least.” His eyes gazed for something more substantial to use. “Like a crystal or any precious gems of sufficient quality. Crystal would be best, though.”
Nodding, Gilda paused and then looked left to snag an Iron Dog who was wandering around aimlessly, dazed at the sudden turn for the worse like all the rest of them.
“YOU!” She bellowed. “Go get that leader of yours!” The Dog blinked at her dumbly. “NOW MUTT! OUR LIVES ARE AT STAKE HERE!” She roared, and with a yelp, the miner bolted off at a dead sprint toward the hills behind the town.
“It's still there!”
Everbloom snatched her fingers away from the scar that was quite literally carved into her neck and tried to focus her attention on the battle before her. Almost against her will, did her eyes drifted northward, where Drystan and his small force were waiting for the next phase of her plan.
This assignment, this contract, had been filled with missteps, enforced idleness, and trauma the likes she never believed she would ever witness or experience.
It was such a simple task. Go to Griffonia, pose as a mercenary captain with her own company, and do whatever is necessary to keep the griffons in poverty and obsolescence. That had been the order, such as it was for those who came before her.
The subjugation of Griffonia had been an ongoing project for nearly six hundred years, and the reason and purpose have been speculated on for nearly the same amount of time. However, through their efforts and those who had come before, the country now sat on the brink of collapse.
Or, rather, it did.
For the better part of twenty years, King Sigurd Bloodbeak had been slowly wrenching success out of the refuse that was his nation. Many among her peers were forced to admit it had been an impressive effort, considering they only began to notice the results in the last decade.
Thus, it had become paramount for her and her compatriots to operate simultaneously within the kingdom. They had to turn the tide.
Before, it was just one force used to exert pressure in the right locations to keep poverty as Griffonia’s chief export. Not every year, maybe once in a decade, as more subtle methods of control were employed within the various companies that sold to the stricken nation. But Bloodbeak had changed all that.
His guile was almost insidious. Behind that blunt-beaked visage was the mind of a shrewd leader who could count the numbers and bend them to his own purposes.
So, they had begun a new campaign against the griffons. One that needed to come from within their own ranks.
The Duchess Rosebreast had been instrumental, if difficult to control. The hen had her own ideas on how to bring down her king, and only upon several failures did she turn to outside sources for support.
After all, one could only use their own troops for so long till their betters grew wise to who the enemy was.
Assassination, a leader's ever-sharp tool that could often be a blade at both ends, ended up being the beginning.
Under the guise of the food riots years ago, Rosebreast struck out and snuffed the life out of two of her biggest opponents, the Lord and Lady Fairheart.
With swift political manipulation, their lands fell into her hands, and she quickly established her control, if not her authority, therein. That was when their leaders stepped in, having seen the opportunity for destabilization once again.
Through means, Everbloom did not herself know, her people had managed to trick the Duchess into not only using mercenaries from outside the land but their mercenaries in particular.
Only in small divisions or units to cause as much disruption as possible. In fact, the young mercenary captain was only the latest to be sent into these less-than-civil lands to add to the bubbling chaos.
Things were going well, and it looked like events were beginning to shift back in their favor. Then Grace Fairheart returned, and with her arrival, Rosebreast was forced to adapt—not so successfully.
The issue was the Right of Claim. In particular Grace's rights to her parents' former land. Not all agreed that it should be her's. However, some griffons of the ancient past held enough insight within them to plan for such an event. The Accords of Return. With those rules in place, the young noble merely had to prove that she could lead and not be a detriment to the rest of the nation. Without the King's interference or assistance.
The fact was, the hen was succeeding. If by the slimmest of margins. The cherry on the cake is the suspected rediscovery of steel now being manufactured in Aviary.
The knowledge that griffons might rise from the ashes again to produce their sun-blighted metal made everything worse.
So, new orders had been handed down to her. Kill the source and wipe out the knowledge. Again.
“I can't imagine what they would think if they learned that a colt was the reason behind it all.”
Orion Falls. Mockingly known as the “One That Got Away”, he had been an annoying buzz that flitted in and out of public scrutiny. Only a minor annoyance that had somehow managed to fall into the graces of the false Princess.
Now, he was poised to reestablish the very industry they had worked so hard to destroy and keep suppressed.
Not for the first time did Everbloom wish she could send a message, a letter, anything, to her superiors back home to let them know the danger he represented. But Drystan’s ever-watchful gaze was on her, and she held no doubt any message sent would be intercepted and he would learn of their true mission here.
“Ma'am!” A shout from an officer kitted out in ragged garments designed to hide the more sophisticated and durable armor beneath came rushing up with a hasty salute.
Turning her eyes away from the north, where the bastard that gifted the mark on her neck and who she hoped still sat where he was meant to be, she addressed the soldier.
“Speak.” The damage had been more than surface level. The claw in her throat had nicked something within her that now left a noticeable gruffness to her tone. No amount of magic could repair it in the field. She would need a specialist to regain the sonorous voice she once held.
“We believe we've located where he is in the village.”
Everbloom smiled. Priority one was killing the colt and destroying all he possessed. A close second was the hen. That was her mission, and she would accomplish it without fail.
But for her, there was one mark that ranked above both targets.
As she fingered the scar once more, she made herself a promise. By the night's end, Drystan would be joining the traitorous foal and his fellow country griffon in the grave.
“It is time. Let us sheer this weed from the garden, shall we?”
Sweat beaded on his forehead, clinging to the short fur there as he hunched over the fourth batch of crystals that had been placed in front of him.
“Okay, remember, these might only last twenty minutes. Use them if ya got ‘em.” Orion mumbled, his horn glowing as he worked the vibration spell into each of the irregular lumps of precious stones before him. Like with everything, practice certainly made perfect. By now, he could cast on dozens of gems at once, though the process was draining. “Use the slingshots. Don't try and throw the fuckin' things.” Leaning back, he wiped the moisture from his brow and pushed the pile forward into the waiting hands of one of Thorncrest's own soldiers. “And for fucks sake, pay attention to your surroundings! They almost got me last time!”
Orion Falls was currently sitting in a hole dug by several Iron Dogs, consistently casting the spell that had ripped apart the first fireball from earlier. The reason for his luxurious accommodations had been a necessity. About half an hour into the battle, a unicorn popped in out of nowhere to take a swipe at his head with a sword.
That had been eye-opening for the colt as he realized two things. His casting magic to intercept the attacking ponies' bombardment was giving his location away, and they were trying to kill him specifically.
The first time it had happened, he got a good look into the mare’s eyes as she narrowly missed his throat. She wasn't there to capture or distract. The bitch was fully intending to kill him as her eyes hardened upon seeing him the moment she had teleported in. That was the look of someone who knew who he was and wanted him dead, even at the cost of their own life.
Since then, it had been a cat-and-mouse game of hide and seek for the better part of two hours as he ran from hole to hole. Iron Dogs had been shoving satchels of crystals into his arms along the way, avoiding the worst of the bombardment.
Homes were in ruins. The small crop fields that had sprung up between those homes were craters blacked by magical fire. Fortunately, the majority of the population of griffons and dogs were hidden beneath the earth. In the tunnels Barney and his people had been digging out shortly after this chaos began.
It had been Grace's idea that girl had really come into her own as a leader, organizing the evacuation quickly once all this began.
But they all knew the crushing truth. They were trapped. To the south and southeast, there was nothing but ocean. To the north, there were cold mountains and forests. West, well, that was where the danger was bearing down upon them.
Trying their hand at flying along the cliffs would only work for the most healthy. The old and infirmed would be lost quickly. Not to mention, the Iron Dogs would be left to rot if they fled that way.
From what he had overheard as he prepared another patch of gems, two brave volunteers tried to get the word out of what was happening. One flying south to take advantage of the trade winds, the other in the opposite direction to hide among the trees and work their way across the range. Both had been taken out by either magic missiles or a volley of arrows.
The arrows had been alarming to Thorncrest and Grace, as that indicated another force not yet in play against them.
Ideas had been tossed about, like having the Iron Dogs dig several tunnels deep below the ground, and they all could escape that way. A solid idea, save for the fact that tunnel digging was slower than walking. Not by much, but there was no doubt the ponies would be upon them quickly once they realized where they went.
When Orion pointed out that certain scan spells were available to the enemy to detect them, the idea was abandoned.
The warrens' lack of a larder also meant they couldn't simply hole up deep underground and wait it out.
That and the Lonelycall had been certain that they could simply pound the dirt above and collapse the whole damn thing on top of them.
Eberhard Lonelycall.
The drake bothered the colt something fierce. Every now and then, he would catch the bird-cat staring at him, an unreadable look in his eyes before he quickly diverted his attention away again.
Paranoia said the griffon knew something about the black pony himself, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell what. In this high-stress situation, thinking of what was secondary to survival was difficult.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, hatchling.” A gruff soldier by the name of Farsight huffed as he carefully dumped the gems into his bag. “They are gonna move you soon. So, no more for now. Take a breather.”
Orion nodded. Grateful for a chance at rest. Making three hundred at a time was taxing his mana to an extreme degree, and pastries' high sugar, high carb diet could only help along so much. His body needed time to digest the confections, and those treats were running really low as it was.
“They should have enough for a while.” While the gems did not last long, the urgency with which they were used meant that there was no waste.
The good news was clear by the noticeable decrease in magical attacks. Judging by the increase in mundane assaults against the walls and the decrease in fireballs and missiles in the sky, it was safe to say that the enemy was beginning to tire.
Orion closed his eyes and breathed deeply. All he could do now was rest up and pray. Pray that somehow, someway, they could survive this.
Drystan wrenched the blade free with little effort as the guard on the wall toppled backward and into the bushes below.
“Convenient.” He thought, a rueful smile bending his beak.
In all honesty, he was bored, even though this phase of the plan now allowed him to push into the village proper.
Allowing the slim moonlight to glance off the edge of the blackened blade, he signaled his force to move forward silently, over the wall.
It was not yet time for them. Not just yet. They must first get into position before they begin hunting for the book and the pony who held it.
“Buck!” Shouted Everbloom, slamming both her fists into the makeshift table set before her. “Why in Tartarus are we not past that bucking wall!?”
This night seemed to only stretch on for the white mare. The initial bombardment had been mostly successful, save for some interceptions nopony could understand yet. Homes were aflame. Crops ruined. Things were going well. Even the wall of grey timber had been starting to give out when those interceptions began to increase exponentially.
It started with the fireballs. Suddenly, bursting apart far above the town, casting her forces in stark relief in the night.
Then, the more localized spells, such as the Flame Ictas, that had been used to try to burn the wood to ash started to backfire, killing their users in the process.
Now, a new development.
Unicorns were being pulled off the field after being struck by some type of crystal lodged in their flesh.
From what could be understood, the gems had some type of latent magical charge that seemed to vary from one to another. Nopony could figure out their function, but the purpose was in the effect.
All reported searing pain and the loss of casting ability, at least those who were still conscious.
Whatever the spell had been, the magical charge pointed to only one source.
“That bucking colt!”
The first few interceptions had been by chance alone, and while not what they had been looking for, they still pointed their way to him. But as the night wore on, he was proving difficult to track and kill, judging by the continued defense of the walls and town.
“I should have argued harder for at least a few artillery mages.” Those would have won them the battle outright, as a barrage of concentrated pure magic at the walls would have reduced them to splinters, allowing her forces access easily inside. They would have saved a lot of their own lives that way and, more importantly, time.
As things stood now, she was down to nearly half of what she had brought with her. And those still standing were beginning to tire.
“Ma'am!” The familiar voice of the lieutenant who had been carrying out her orders made her cringe. She did not want another problem to deal with, as it seemed all the mare had to bring her lately.
“Speak.” She said wearily, her hands unfurling to steady herself on the table.
“Drystan has breached their walls. We believe he is getting into position now.”
“Is it really that time already?” The battle must have been going on longer than she had thought. Phase two, which was more of a fallback plan than any real option, had been to use Rosebreast's forces to infiltrate from the north, wait, and then spring into action as soon as her own pushed the walls hard enough to draw the defense's attention.
It was simple, effective, and not something she believed they would have had to use. Everbloom had been so confident in her own force that she had only agreed to the birdbrain’s idea to placate him.
“Good.” It was best to appear in control. Of herself and the situation at hand. “It is time to push the walls.” She strode past the lieutenant, intending to give the orders herself.
They already knew where Orion Falls was inside the town. Their scryers had located him beneath a shallow mound of earth deep inside the village and had been biding their time for the Second Phase.
It was time she showed him the creativity of a true pony.
“Orion?” Someone shook his arm, and he blinked groggily awake. His neck hurt, as well as his back. Which was likely going to be a given as he fell asleep in his chair against the rock-infested dirt wall.
Before him were the half-eaten pastries that likely fell from his lap some time ago.
“How…kaff …how long was I out?” His mouth was dry, and his eyes lit up when Gilda handed him a flask with water inside.
“A little over an hour. We wanted to let you rest.”
“An hour?! More?!”
Panic seized him as he gripped the leather water container in fear. With the events outpacing his ability to think beyond the next move, he had little time to dwell on what exactly was happening. Now, waking up from a nap that had taken far too long, his heart was seized by fear, which washed away his ability to reason—to think at all.
Something must have shown on his face because the Sergeant hunched down and pressed her head against his own.
“Breath, soldier. You're okay. We're okay.” She said soothingly. “We haven't won yet, but you are safe.”
Her tone and presence, more than her words, slowly broke into his mind. His labored breaths began to slow, and his heart began to ease its attempt to burst from his chest.
“That's it. Nice and slow. In and out.” Her words, once muffled, now became clear to him. “Now, drink some water. Slowly now.”
Numbly, he found that the water skin had been taken from his hands, and the nozzle had been placed at his lips. Lukewarm fluid poured into his mouth and down his throat, carrying with it the faint taste of curing that the bag had undergone sometime ago.
After a moment, the liquid relented, and the bag was taken away.
“How do you feel?” Gilda asked softly.
“Like shit.” He whispered back. Both of them chuckled at that. “No…I-I feel…better. Thanks, Gilda.” Orion muttered, taking another deep breath to let it out slowly.
“Good. Once you're steady, it'll be time for us to move. From what Master Lonelycall has told us, those ponies are eventually gonna find this place. We're gonna need to move quickly.
The black colt nodded and glanced around. The latest hole they had dug for him had been connected to a tunnel, allowing the passage of the wounded to safer parts of the Iron Dogs warrens to be treated and rest. Thorncrest had also chosen to make this location his command post. But now the griffon commander and his command staff were nowhere in sight, and those few soldiers still there milled about, picking up equipment and moving toward the entrance.
“They must have left before I woke up.”
Turning, he regarded his impromptu bodyguard with a smile. Since the second assassination attempt, Gilda had pulled his furry butt cheeks from the proverbial fire more than once, avoiding arrows and killers in the dark alike.
He did help, however. Being the only one to sense magical surges nearby, he kept his head on a swivel and the blade from his throat.
“Soldier, huh?” He started to chuckle, but her eyes stopped the mirth in his throat.
“Orion, if not for you, we would not have been able to hold out as long as we have. Those fuckin' ponies would have overwhelmed us by now.” Her voice betrayed nothing. But her eyes shimmered slightly. “The people of this village are still alive because you stepped up and did what you could.”
“Hey, I just panicked my way-”
“No. No deflecting from you. Orion, you put aside fear and worked with us to save lives.” She interrupted sternly. Others had stopped to look at him. Their nods of approval mirrored one another. One even raised a fist at him. “As far as I'm concerned, you've earned the right. You've done a good and just thing here.”
“I…uh…” He fumbled, unsure of what to say. He had never been good at receiving honest praise. In school his academic achievements had been dismissed by simply responding with, “I memorize words good”.
Here, Gilda and her fellow soldiers were not allowing him that luxury. All eyes were fixed on him with a firm and confident stare. Something in his chest surged; it was almost painful.
“Now, off your ass, pone. We've-”
Orion’s head snapped up as a surge of magical energy echoed in the middle of the room. The expected pony assassin did not appear.
Instead, a gem broke into reality. A gem with a fireball spell packed into as clear as day to his eyes.
“OH, SHIII-”
“Oomph!” Air exploded from Orion's mouth as his back, with Gilda on top, crashed into the ground beneath them. His horn burned like fire and felt like someone had bashed it with a pipe hard enough to make his head feel like a warped gong. As he struggled to take in oxygen for his starved lungs, his temporary passenger rolled off of him to fix him with a glare.
“Orion!? Why did you-”
The Sergeant was interrupted once again. A hollow boom came from beneath them. The earth under them heaved violently, shucking both into the air as the bulge that had quickly built up and exploded outward, sending stones, dirt, and flames.
“Did we get them?!” Shouted Everbloom, anxious. The Hen wasn't with the colt, which was unfortunate. But as long as they managed to catch one, it was better than nothing, and they could more easily focus on the other later as the night progressed.
“No, ma'am. From what we can see, he managed to teleport out at the last moment and grabbed one of the griffons, too!”
“He can teleport?!” As far she understood his record, the pony had not yet been taught that invaluable skill. In fact, the spell was complicated enough that most unicorns had difficulty casting it or could not do it without linking with others.
Another thought crossed her mind, one that nearly made her growl. “Of course, Twilight Sparkle!”
Orion's undue influence upon the burgeoning mare had been a sore point for many who saw her as the pinnacle of what a unicorn could be. Undeveloped and naive as she was, there was much potential within the protege, even if her teacher was not somepony well beloved amongst her peers.
Many saw Celestia as a usurper. Stealing the rightful place for the one they called the Sun.
Truthfully, Everbloom never understood the logic behind that. Was the Princess not the Herald of the Day, and Usher of the Sun?
Still, the fact that her student had taught Orion Falls how to teleport at some point in time was alarming. However, it did explain a great deal of how he had been able to counter their magical assault so readily. She was forced to admit that she should have remembered or at least considered that fact already.
Shaking her head, she lamented the fact that the whole operation had been put together too quickly. While they had already been in the country, orders had narrowed the time frame in which they could prepare and act.
“Do you know where he went?” One of the scryers shook their heads, muttering to themselves. “What?” She demanded.
“The backlash from the attack has sent ripples in the local lines in the area.” Their lead, a lanky mare in ratty robes, spoke quickly. “Unfortunately, we will have to wait till they settle before we can find him with any accuracy again.” She wilted under her commander's hot glare. “Five, maybe six minutes. Ma'am.” She squeaked.
Sighing, she turned away, disgusted. Instead, her eyes studied the medical tent where too many soldiers milled about.
More injuries from the field, no doubt.
The healers' report on what was being used on her troops had been enlightening, to say the least, and gave her an idea of what to do next. Rather than send in more unicorns to potentially be slaughtered by a warren stuffed full of savages, they instead sent in a charged crystal with a fireball spell wedged into it.
Turnabout was fair play, after all.
“Begin another one.” She paused. “Make that two. We will have to be ready to try again the moment the magic field has stilled.”
“Ma'am, I must warn you, we don't have more than three gems, nor do we have enough casters to continue at this rate.”
Everbloom ground her teeth in frustration. They did have enough casters. But because she distrusted Drystan so much, she was unwilling to commit more to this assault, lest the griffon does turn on her the moment the battle was complete and her troops exhausted.
“Do what you can.” She said stiffly. Eyes lingering on the northern portion of the town. He was in there, somewhere, already likely pouncing in the chaos of her attack. The scar seemed to pulse with her anger.
Orion hacked, coughed, and spit as he struggled to push himself up from a briar bush he had landed in. His gaze wildly looked around for danger, but he couldn't see anything with all the dust kicked up into the air.
His clothes were torn and tattered. The orange shirt looked more like a cape than an actual garment at this point, snagging on every thorn and nearly tearing right off as he gingerly got unsteadily to his hooves.
“Gil-...Gilda…” He called out. His voice cracked painfully. His heart was beating wildly, and thoughts that he hadn't saved anyone but himself rolled around in his head as he desperately searched for her.
When the bomb appeared inside the hole, he acted on instinct alone, grabbing Gilda in a bear hug and activating the spell for teleportation immediately. It had been too far, and he could feel it pulse as his horn still smoked from the effort put into reaching past the limits of the distance of his ability. How had he done that?
Yet, through some miracle, they had escaped and been alive above the ground when suddenly all hell broke loose. Had the explosion gotten her anyway?
“Over here.” Came the Sergeant’s much more composed voice as she came into view, the smoke and dust dissipating on a stiff wind. “What the fuck was that?” She asked, glancing around them at the crater that once was their hideaway.
“The bastards copied me.” He growled sudden anger surged at being subjected to one of his own tricks. “Put a fuckin’ Fireball spell inside a gem and sent it through rather another assassin.”
Orion was beyond worried at this point. The equines arrayed against him have been trying to kill him specifically all night. Instead, all they got were a few soldiers in the wrong place.
“It's fucking Earth all over again!”
His grandparents had suffered because of his cowardice. Now, these people were dying due to his interference. Was it really so bad that they were poor?
The image of a mother hen weeping for a child limp in her arms crossed his mind. That thought only threw his competing notions into conflict with one another. His anger bled into uncertainty and fear.
“What should I have done?”
“Orion? Orion!” Again, he was shaken, this time from the mental fog threatening to lock up his brain. “On your pa-hooves, we have to move. If they could do that once, they can do it again!”
Gilda, with a grunt, hauled him up with little effort, and with a push, she got him moving in what direction he wasn't sure as his mind was still coming to terms with the fact they nearly died.
In silence, they jogged from broken wall to ruined shed, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.
Orion was moved on autopilot, his mind warring with the consequences of his actions as he tripped and stumbled after Gilda away from the flames.
Barney clacked his teeth nervously. It had been hours since this nightmare had begun, and he felt utterly useless as his Dogs ran to and fro while he sat and did practically nothing.
Well, not nothing exactly. He simply felt like a parrot repeating what was told to him.
Grace Fairheart had taken command immediately upon entering his people's home. He was truly grateful, as this situation was far above his experience and leadership abilities. He wasn't too proud to admit that.
But sitting there, only helping move the wounded or rush supplies to someone, left his mind to wander too much.
He was still a failure.
He felt he wasn't contributing anything to the battle and feared his initial command not to get involved had worsened their situation.
But what were a bunch of mutts supposed to do?! They had no training. No battle experience. Nothing! They were simply the leftovers of a hostile takeover and lost their strongest on the journey here. Sending his people out to fight would have been akin to suicide.
And the griffons understood that, yet here he was, perched on a boulder, just waiting for someone to tell him what to do.
Despite being out of the loop, he was far from stupid. Judging by Grace and Lonelycall’s faces, the battle was not going well, as each soldier who came calling left them with darker and darker features. Even in this blackened cave, he could see that.
It was just a matter of time at this point. The griffons in the village, just like his own pack, had no military training. No weapons to speak of unless you consider claws a weapon.
Other than a handful of soldiers, Grace Fairheart has brought back with her. They were truly outnumbered.
This night was a devastating blow to not just morale but life in general. He had finally secured his pack’s future. Only for it to be ripped away by some prick bandit unicorns with a grudge. Worse? While Barney didn't know what was going on or why they were here, he could speculate.
Orion. That pony had given a gift to the griffons, not to mention what he had done for his own people, and someone found out. Now, his follower's lives were in danger. Again.
Speaking of the colt, from what he could gather, that little whorse was out there, assisting the soldiers in fighting off the attackers.
The knowledge of that made his stomach roil. Orion Falls was out there, helping. Yet he stood idly by for demands he couldn't give himself.
Barney shook his head.
The problem was numbers. Somehow, the ponies had managed to sneak in a large enough force right onto their doorstep with none, not even the local ruler's notice.
However, now that he considered it, he and his own noticed odd vibrations in the walls for nearly a week. That vibration was likely them, moving about and readying for the slaughter. Oh, how stupid they had been not to at least check, but he figured it was just the increase in paw traffic from above as more griffons came in from hamlets to help with the project that was this town.
His fists balled up, and he struck a rock wall, causing material to explode apart. He ignored the new divot in the stone as he ignored the others staring at him warily. Worry was chief among the expressions his people had for him.
He could understand, especially because his sister was caught in one of the bombardments.
Tilly was laid up with the other injured. Half of her body had gotten scorched when a ball of fire that had exploded near the entrance. She had been guiding the griffons into the tunnel entrances, which was a direct violation of his do not get involved order.
Barney couldn't blame her, though. Had he thought clearly, he would have done the same had he not panicked and thought for but a moment.
Then, a mutt came in with demands for gems from the griffons, and he and his people were swept up into the flow of the battle.
With her injury, he was all alone and had no one to help figure out what to do. The hurt she had gotten had also angered him to new heights he did not believe possible.
“Fuck! There's gotta be a way to even the fucking odds! I want payback from those fuckin’ ponies!”
But what? Again, they did not have weapons. Or training. So what could they do to thin the numbers of the enemy? What could a lone Dog do?
Balo crossed his field of vision. The massive canine doing his best to avoid his leader's eyes as he shuffled away from him. He had been doing that for the majority of the evening.
“Heh, if I'd have thought anyone was going to get us killed, it would have been you, my big dumb friend.” The thought was bitter but held a bit of mirth to it.
Balo, the Iron Dog, had an unusual nose for trouble. More like getting himself and those around him into trouble. But looking back on it now, those were better times. If not for their arrival in Griffonia, maybe he could have been nicer to his former friend. The last incident that had snapped those strings of friendship had been when he had…
He paused. Thinking.
“Could we? No…no way…” His eyes widened.
“BALO!” He bellowed, getting everyone, including his targeted mutt, to jump. “Come ‘ere.” Barney crooked a finger, and his old friend gulped.
“Master Lonelycall, have you seen Barney Barker?” Grace asked, annoyance in her voice as she paced across the dark cavern. Oil lamps did little to illuminate the void with any real success, but at least she could place one paw before another as she avoided more litters of wounded being brought in.
“Lord Barker? I'm afraid not recently, my Lady.” He paused and tapped his beak. “I did hear him shouting at one of his own a little while ago.” He gazed around. “But I no longer see either of them here.”
In one of the deepest caverns the Iron Dogs had managed to dig into, they sat, huddled in the darkness and hoping for a miracle. The loss of the sky made her shudder, but the distance from the surface and potential invasions of the magical persuasion was more than sufficient to make her ignore her discomfort.
“Damnit all.” She clicked. “I've not heard from Thorncrest in an hour. I was going to send him for news.” She huffed.
Barney had proven excellent in taking orders, if not giving. However, his implementation of those commands was often inspired and cut through to what they needed quicker than most would have done. The Iron Dog pack leader was also fast at digging, second to only that one mutt called Balo, and had regularly delivered missives to Thorncrest through the use of his abilities.
Somehow, Iron Dogs, or she supposed all Dogs really, could dig tunnels and collapse them right behind them at the same time. Making it difficult to track them.
“Balo, yes. He could do.”
“What about Balo? Is he here?” She asked, thinking that the mutt, despite the broken Equish, could still relay messages at the very least.
“I'm afraid that was who Barney was yelling at.” The reedy secretary griffon said apologetically, a frown creasing his features.
Now, that was a surprise. What were the odds that both had suddenly gone missing? Shaking her head, she dismissed the question from her mind. Speculation was fruitless at this point, and she had no time.
“Then I'm going up. I need to know what is going on.” Turning, she proceeded toward one of the tunnels that slopped up.
“Are you sure that's wise, my Lady?” Lonelycall was quick to fall in with her.
“I can't do much more here, and the Iron Dogs and villagers have the situation in hand. I need to know what is happening before a new problem bites me in the tail feathers.”
They both ducked low and began the slow journey up to the surface. Behind them, Godrick watched, worry etching his features.
Drystan smiled to himself, not the first he allowed himself this evening, but one that he found increasingly making its presence a more permanent fixture on his beak.
Things were proceeding well now. Or as best as could be expected considering the unusual nature of his chosen assignment.
“Ah, I had forgotten what it felt like to get my claws dirty like this.” True, as his role as a fixer for his Mistress increased, he found himself with less and less time in the field. Getting his claws dirty with the real work.
The black griffon had decided to proceed slowly. Not just out of caution for the unexpected but because his initial push had cost him a number of his own. Only thirty-two remained from the fifty he had been allowed to bring with him.
“Or was it now thirty-one?” He mused a little sourly. Pushing the body into a ruined shed. It twitched but didn't make enough noise to alarm anyone about it. After the initial setback, this was a welcome outcome.
Perhaps his Mistress had been too hasty having him throw this operation together as quickly as he had done. It forced him to cut corners he was not happy about, and the patrol that had happened upon them was one such cost.
Still, he thought his soldiers were better trained than this. For so many to fall so quickly was unprofessional, and it irked him; this was supposed to be his elite force.
“Perhaps I have been away too long. Trusted them to carry out orders without my guiding hand to see it done correctly.”
His eyes swept across the town. The warm glow of the fires currently devouring homes and crops tugged at his beak again. However, there was a distinct lack of screams and chaos from the citizens themselves. Where were they? Did the unicorns managed to thin the herd with their assault?
“No, no.” He shook his head, eyes ever watchful for movement. “Odds are, they are holding in the Diamond Dog warrens.” If that was true, it was smart.
The ponies themselves would not risk diving into the holes, where experience told him provided too many choke points for the enemy to ambush and roundabouts that would allow sneak attacks from behind.
A pair of figures attempting to hide from the fire's light and from obvious pursuit rushed from ruined building to ruined building. The silhouette of a horn appeared when the one to the rear passed in front of a small blaze currently consuming a garden.
“Ah! Boreus is finally favoring me tonight.” He stalked forward a few paces, eyes tightening against the glare of the flames. The Pony had but one guard, but that didn't mean he should make a potential mistake now.
With the unicorns still in play out there, anything could happen.
“I hope I am not chasing you for nothing, my little pony. I want that book.”
Not for the first time did Gilda fight to keep a screech from ripping past her beak.
The wall still stood; by the evidence there weren't a hundred unicorns ripping through the town at that very moment, but nothing else was going right.
“Granted, we didn't have a whole lot of personnel to begin with, ya'd think there would be a least some griffons running around! Messagers? Squads? Something!”
She glanced behind her, checking to see if her charge was still following after.
Hunched like he was, the pony only seemed half there. Given their circumstances and what had nearly gotten them, she sympathized. They had just narrowly survived by the skin of their beaks, “I suppose it would be teeth for him.”
His eyes were wide, and his breath was shallow. He was definitely hyperventilating. It had been so easy to forget that he was still a fledgling. His manners, the way he acted, were like hanging out with a griff ten years her senior.
Now?
Now, Orion was dealing with the reality of war—of death. Judging by what she could see, he wasn't doing too well adjusting to it, and who could really blame him?
She stopped behind a still-standing stone wall, placed her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him into a sitting position.
“Orion, let's take a moment,” Gilda whispered, her eyes glancing around them for any movement.
“Okay.” He mumbled, not really looking at her, which pulled a sigh from deep in her breast.
What she had said before, underground before everything went to Tartarus, had been her honest opinion. The pony had been remarkable at adapting to the situation. In her opinion, coming up with a solution to counter the bombardment on the fly was a stroke of genius.
But it was settling in, and he was not dealing with it in a healthy manner, if such could be said with nearly dying several times this evening.
“Orion. Hey, Orion?” She shook him, and he finally looked at her. “It's okay. You're okay. We are alive. That's thanks to you.” They were. His quick thinking saved both of their lives, and she would be forever grateful for that.
“But the others…” He muttered.
Survivors' guilt. She had seen it before. Even experienced herself. She took note of him; his horn had finally stopped smoking, and from the look of things, whatever damage had been done was superficial. Yet, that could have easily been different had he tried to grab the others with them.
“Orion. Could you have taken all of us?” Gilda was trying to be gentle, but this was a battlefield, and the edge to her voice made her words harsher than she intended.
“...no…” he swallowed. “We'd have all died.” He trembled. “Fuck. It almost didn't work. That jump was farther than I should have been able to do.”
“Ah, that range issue you have, right?”
“Yeah…I think. I think I went twenty-o- uh. I think I jumped thirty-three? Yeah, thirty-three hooves. That's something close to fifteen paces….give or take.” He frowned. “That was way farther than I should have done.”
Gilda smiled. His mind was starting to focus. Hard numbers and analysis often pulled a soldier from their foggy mental state, and she was glad to see it was working on him, too.
“Yeah, that is amazing. And I'll buy you a drink later to celebrate the achievement. But listen,” she titled his head up with her hand, “there was nothing you could have done. You know that, right?”
He nodded. Then, he shook his head.
“No, that's bullshit. I gave them the idea of using crystals. That WAS on me.” He affirmed. “Had I not used gems to counteract their spells, they may not have thought to use it.”
“And had you not done that, how many townspeople would have died as a result?”
That stopped him in his tracks. His eyes widened.
“Orion, sometimes we get dealt a really shitty storm front. There are no good choices available to us. We can do right and still get screwed over.” She firmly jabbed him in the chest. “You,” she said fiercely, “saved a lot of lives tonight. You bought us time to get everyone we could to safety. Gave us a way to fight back.” Snorting, the Sergeant groused. “I only wish I knew how the fuck they found us.”
“Scrying.” He said simply.
“What?”
“They found us, with scrying. It's a part of divination, a mage craft taught in Equestrian schools for the older students. The simplest is the ability to “see” what you seek.” He frowned. “It's not an easy spell to use, often requiring more than one to cast depending on range and what they are looking for.” He set his back to the wall, his brow creased in worry. “Like teleportation, it takes advantage of local leylines.” The black pony tapped his muzzle. “Which means…it suffers from the same hang-ups.”
“Hang-ups?” Now was really not the time for him to be taking his ease. “Don't get comfy.”
“I don't think I can ever get comfy again. But, yeah, massive surges in magic can disrupt or vibrate the lines in a chaotic mess. It takes a bit for it to calm down before they can try again. That explosion,” he gestured back toward where they had dashed from, “likely created a huge ripple effect.” His eyes widened. “That's why I was able to jump so far! I rode the wave outward! Holy shit!”
“I'm…not really following. What does this mean?”
“Well, it's partly why I came out with my horn smoking for one. I grazed the magical wave front of the spell those jackasses used. My teleportation used their power to go further.” He chuckled. “Assholes gave us a boost.”
“That's…good?” Her patience was wearing thin.
“Yeah, but now we got the same problem: the ripples are starting to fade. Soon, they'll try again, and I wouldn't count on…maybe?” He paused, eyes darting back and forth.
Gilda was at the end of her rope. This was taking too long, and they needed to move now.
“What?!” She hissed at him. Orion ignored her.
“I can induce a new wave.” He said slowly, considering something she did not understand. “A new ripple. This will last longer, too. A couple of hours. Twilight said her brother was really good at this trick, and she showed me.” His horn slowly came to life. “If I just…”
Gilda Broadwing felt her insides shiver. In fact, the whole world around her seemed to warp in her eyes, and she found herself gasping on her hands and knees.
“What…” She was going to throw up. “Did…you do?!”
Instead of answering, the black pony bodily picked her up and ran away from the brick wall they had hidden behind.
“Was he always this strong?!” She thought in alarm. With her full kit, she was an extra few kilos heavier, and the black pony was carrying her over his shoulder like she weighed hardly a thing.
Suddenly, she forgot all about weight and what he had done. A ball of fire engulfed the wall in yellowish-red flames that sucked in on itself a second later.
Gilda didn't hear a thing as Orion was thrown off his hooves, carrying both of them into a miraculously untouched pile of hay.
The boom that washed over them as they lay prone rattled her beak and deafened her ears.
Looking over, the colt was grinning, speaking with gestures and a fist pump, but she couldn't hear a thing.
“WHAT?!” She cried out, and he gave her a quizzical look before his eyes widened. His horn glowed, and suddenly, the sound was returned to her painfully. Loudly. “Ah, damnit! What did you do?!”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Forgot to put PPS on you. My bad.” She glared at him.
“What is PPS?”
“It's a couple of spells cast simultaneously. Full name Personal Protective Spells. It shields eyes and ears from loud noises and bright flashes.” He grinned. “You're lucky I can heal your ears. My ability with healing is shitty. Very shitty.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” Climbing out of the hay pile, she dusted herself off and checked for any injuries. Everything seemed to be fine besides a few new dents to the armor. “What did you do?”
“Ah, well.” He began, taking the hand she offered to help him out. “I created a warp in the magical field again. This time and even greater wave.” Gesturing to the smoldering crater that had been their hiding place, he continued. “I essentially used Shining Armor's spell to grab ahold of the leylines and yank them as hard as I could. However, that also highlighted our location, and I knew they would try hitting us again the moment it did that.”
“And you went ahead and did it anyway?!” Gilda was livid.
“Hang on, I have a good reason. Something I have learned, and I'm not really sure many others know this, is that if you leave the power control portion of the spell fully open, you can take advantage of another power source. In this case, I'm not so good at doing that trick Twilight taught me. I lack the finesse she and her brother have. So instead.” He grinned. “I used the magical output of their attack to boost the effect further. Now, this wave will last HOURS. And they won't be able to find shit if it was sitting in front of them!”
“That was the spell sucking in on itself?”
“Yep!”
“Why the explosion?”
“Ah, the spell overloaded. Had I tried to hang on and direct it, I would have blown apart instead. Just like I almost did earlier when I teleported us the hell out of there.” He shrugged. “The air pressure became the problem. That's why we went flying.”
It made sense. Sort of. Gilda really didn't understand magic, but Orion had a good way of explaining it enough that she wasn't completely lost.
“Hours? Is that right?”
“To be more precise, I'd say we get six or seven, tops. There was a lot of power behind that one. I think they dialed it up on us.”
Gilda grinned at him. “Feel better?”
Orion paused and regarded her with confusion, then his eyes widened. “Huh, yeah. I guess I do…somewhat.” He frowned. “No way I'm gonna be able to talk to my therapist about…this.”
Nodding, she turned and pointed. “I’ll see if Eber knows one, now let's get the fuck out of here. We have to find-”
“Gilda? Orion?!”
The Sergeant blinked in surprise as both Lady Fairheart and Master Lonelycall appeared out of the haze.
“My Lady!” She exclaimed, rushing over to her liege lady. “What are you doing out here?”
Huffing, Grace stepped around some fallen debris. “Trying to get information about the dispensation of our forces.” She gazed at Orion. “Where are your guards, Orion?”
“Now, what was that?” He asked himself, mildly perturbed by this sudden obstacle.
Actually, he was a bit more than annoyed. Just as Drystan had closed the gap between him and the Pony, said whorse suddenly burst from his hiding place. Some soldier, likely the one leading him around the town, was slung over his shoulder, and he was running for all he was worth.
Had he somehow detected him?
That was about all the warning the midnight-colored griffon had before the sun appeared right before his eyes and nearly swallowed him up. If not for the quick jump back of his paws and flap of his wings, he was sure he would have lost his arm, outstretched as it was.
That had been easy. However, he had not anticipated the soundless knockback that sent him skittering across the ground like a stone on a still pond.
Now standing, he regarded the hole that replaced the wall that had just been there a moment before.
“My eyes…why the sudden blurriness of my eyes?” It had been his only indicator that something was amiss. It forced his instincts to go on high alert, and just in time, too, as he leaped back to avoid the worst of the explosive force.
His only conclusion was that the unicorns were somehow able to find the Equestrian by means he did not quite understand. Judging by what had happened here, they had tried to simply obliterate him where he stood.
That would not do. What if he has the book on him? All his work would be ruined.
With an annoyed huff, he peered around, looking for where the Pony and his sack of guard had gone. He would be beyond merely annoyed if his quarry escaped him and got away completely.
The haze of smoke and dust kicked up from the explosion was difficult to navigate and may have hindered his sight. However, his ears worked just fine.
Voices could be heard distantly off to his left.
“There you are. And what's this?” The voices he could hear were more numerous than two could produce. “Could that be you, little Hen?” Stalking forward, Drystan could only thank the god Boreas for this sudden turn of good fortune.
“Winds guide and preserve them,” Grace whispered after hearing what had happened to them in the tunnels. I'm grateful that you've survived, Orion, and you as well, Sergeant.” It wasn't an afterthought. Orion could see it in her expression: she was overwhelmed and unable to process the loss of so many soldiers all at once.
Lonelycall stood behind her, that odd look from the hall on his face warning with the concern he directed toward his Lady.
Was he constipated?
“I am too, my Lady. If not for this colt, I'd have been buried under a mound of dirt right about now.” Gilda punched him in the arm, and he grunted in response.
In truth, Orion was not doing too well. Since the moment the attack had begun, his mind had been in high gear, too busy to contemplate what was really happening around him. That had been good, and it had kept him from freezing up. If not for the Sergeant, he might have ended up in a funk that would have been difficult to pull out of.
It took another attack by the asshole unicorns to really pull his head out of his ass, though. There was no time for introspection. Whether he did right or wrong could and should be put off for whatever deity actually ran this world this world to consider later. Hopefully.
“Say.” A sudden thought popped into his head. “Speaking of sitreps, what the fuck are you doing up here, Grace?” The idea that the only royal out and about with no guard, save for the Steward behind her, bothered him greatly. “Shouldn't you be, like, squirreled away in some hole somewhere?”
“I was in the Warrens. Unfortunately, communications have broken down, and I am in the dark about what is happening.” Her frown deepened. “I came to get answers myself, as both Barney and Balo have disappeared.”
Orion groaned and ran both hands over his face.
“Of course, the little shit fuckin' bailed.”
“And the others?” Gilda's question had startled him. He hadn't even thought of the other Iron Dogs. Perhaps they took off, too.
“Both the villagers and the residents of the Warren are safe. They are tending to themselves, and are about as comfortable as we can make them. I didn't want to pull what few guards we had to do this. They are needed there. Just in case the worst happens.”
“Huh, thought they would have bailed too.” Everyone looked at him, and he realized too late that he had said that private thought out loud. “Ah, shit. I just…um.” Waving his hands in the air, he collected himself quickly, shame making the insides of his ears darken. “I just thought that if Barney took off, they would too.” Grace gave an uncomfortable shrug.
“I do not believe that Dog would do such a thing. His sister was injured in the initial attack. So, if anything, he might want revenge.” Eberhard had finally spoken up. The odd slim secretary griffon was not only stricken with a strange expression, but his tone seemed strained.
“What is up with this guy?”
“That is a good point, Master Lonelycall.” His friend said softly, tapping her beak. “Though, whatever he may be up to, I hope it does not prove to our disadvantage.”
“My Lady!” Shouted a new voice.
Behind them, out of the gloom of dirt and dust kicked up by recent explosive activities, came Thorncrest, his coterie of officers, and a small band of guards. The sight of them was a welcome relief to the colt. He had feared the worst.
“Commander!” Grace called back, the worry in her tone having lessened as much as his worries. “What news of the battle?”
Jogging up to them, the lithe griffon captain saluted smartly, and the hen waved it away.
“None of that right now. What is going on?” She said without a trace of acid in her voice.
“My Lady, the walls still hold.” His smile was grim. “The attack has stalled, but we do not know for how long. They could push any moment now. But I must ask, why are you out here? You should be safe, below.”
“I would, but communications have been sporadic at best. I have not had any news, and those I could rely on are either missing or better suited to the task of guarding.” Grace said her vexation was not directed at any one person but at the entire debacle itself.
“That's impossible, my Lady. I have sent regular updates every ten or so minutes.” Thorncrest paused. “We had actually come to find out why you had been keeping our messengers.”
Whatever response his friend gave faded into the background. Eyes widening in alarm, Orion focused on his radar that had suddenly alerted him to a potential problem, and his blood went cold.
Around them were twenty or more signatures he did not recognize. Their presence seemed to warble slightly as they moved, almost like they weren't there.
“HEADS UP!” He shouted, pushing Grace away from him as a tall, completely black griffon, armor and all, seemingly appeared out of thin air between them not a second later. The long, slender blade, obviously meant for her, narrowly missed them both as it struck thin air.
Thorncrest wasted no time. Ripping his sword from his scabbard, he struck at the assassin, only to strike air himself as the bird-cat leaped into the air and landed away from them, carried on his wings with ease.
“TO ARMS!” He bellowed, not that he needed to. As others had already drawn their own weapons and turned to meet the quickly appearing force around them. “ASSASSINS IN THE RANKS!”
Grace, her mace slinging wildly, crushed an attacker’s arm, obliterating the limb in a spray of blood and flying metal as the armor buckled under her heavy weapon.
Rather than be hindered by the loss of balance and use of their primary weapon, they instead lashed out with a dagger pulled swiftly from a small sheath at their waist.
She grunted in surprise but struck out herself with her offhand, claws extended, and dodged the blade to slash at their neck. Her fingers found purchase, and she tore away the meat and cloth her talons had found purchase there. Narrowly, the hen dodged a second swipe with the blade and stepped quickly back.
To her great dismay, the assassin had not given up. While their steps quickly lost their drive, they still managed a few more strikes toward her before falling forward, face crashing into the ground with a slight crunch. Their only voice being gurgles of blood that gushed out to stain the ground beneath them.
Grace was afraid. The dedication in that attack, even as they were grievously wounded, spoke of zealotry rarely found in random killers for hire. But she could not focus on her slain opponent.
Turning, she surveyed the skirmish and found surprisingly good news. Most of the attackers, from what she could see as she avoided the flurry of slashes directed toward her, were down. Lonelycall bore a few cuts as he stood amongst three of the enemy's dead. Thorncrest’s left arm hung limply at his side, yet his sword arm remained strong and upright.
She wished the same could be said of most of his command staff. Yet, they had fought bravely. The battle had been over quickly, almost too quickly.
“Master Lonelycall, are you okay?” Grace called, worried about her advisor.
“I am well, my Lady. Merely knicks and scratches. Nothing more. I had the advantage, as I am sure many of our own did.” She raised a single eyebrow at him, and he grimaced. “It seems they were focused entirely on you, my Lady. It allowed us to get the upper hand on our foes.”
Grace Fairheart’s eyes hardened.
“What do you mean?” The bite, despite her best efforts, was there in her voice. Her face bore no apologies.
“I have to concur, my Lady,” Thorncrest spoke up, eyes scanning as one of his hauptleutes worked to bandage his arm in a sling. “They largely ignored us, save for a few slashes to put us off. I do not believe they expected such opposition, considering we were taken by surprise.”
Eberhard nodded, his own gaze sweeping about them.
“It is so.” He said. “They attempted to murder you, my Lady.” He shook his head. “Yet that allowed us a chance to strike at them, and victory was ours.” He grinned. “And Commander, we were not completely caught off guard. We have to thank the young Master Falls for his fortuitous warning. “He raised an eyebrow of his own. “As well as thank him for saving your life, my Lady.”
Grace nodded. Orion had pushed her out of the way at the last possible minute. Crying out as he saved her life from a blade clearly bound for her breast.
Speaking of her friend, where was he?
“Orion? Where are you?” She called, hoping to thank her friend quickly and get them moving from what was now hostile territory.
Nothing.
No smart-ass response. No stumbling pony calling back, happy to be alive.
“Sergeant,” her voice rose. The alarm she felt was mirrored in the others around her. Sergeant Broadwing did not respond either.
“Master Falls?” Lonelycall cried out, his eyes not on the village now slowly coming into view as the dust finally dissipated, but at the ground. Her heart rate spiked.
“FIND HIM!” The fear in her voice only seemed to heighten her panic.
Moments passed, as every griffon still standing searched frantically about the immediate vicinity of the ruined town, seeking any sign the colt and griffon with him could have gone.
Eberhard Lonelycall came to her after a while. His eyes were puzzled.
“My Lady.” He began softly. “He is not here. Neither is Sergeant Broadwing.”
“Then-”
“I do not believe him slain.” He said, a slim hand touching her shoulder gently. “If Sergeant Broadwing is not here as well, I can only assume she got him out of the fray the moment the battle commenced.” He shook his head. “My only worry is where they could have gone.”
Grace blinked and realized tears were falling down her feathered cheeks.
“We have to find him.” It was very hard to keep her voice from shaking.
“And we shall, my Lady. But you will not be helping in that search.” His hand rose to forestall her protest. “This is not a suggestion. Neither I nor Commander Thorncrest are going to budge on this. Those assassins were meant for you. Possibly both of you, but you for certain.”
“We cannot go back to the tunnels.” Her tone did not waver this time, duty replacing her worry. If the assassins were after her, leading them back to the citizens below would just mean a bloodbath.
“No. You cannot. I will continue the search. I am well acquainted with the area and less injured than I look. You shall go with the Commander back to the wall.” His expression darkened. “As reluctant as I am to put you so close to the enemy, that is likely your safest place at this time. I am told they have a few homes still standing. An HQ has been set up there to direct our efforts.”
Grace nodded. Worry for Orion pushed aside. However, a pang in her gut said her concern should be shared equally with Gilda’s safety as well.
“O-okay.” She said after a moment. “Please be safe.” Eberhard nodded gently and turned to leave before her hand shot out to grip his arm. “Please…find them.”
“I will put all my focus to this task, my Lady. I shall not fail you.” With that, the reedy secretary charged into the darkness, his form disappearing among the rubble.
Grace Fairheart's eyes looked into the gloom.
“Please, Orion. Please be okay.”
“I am not okay! I AM NOT FUCKING OKAY!”
His mind screamed as he dodged yet another dagger flung out of the dark. Seeing it coming and being able to make use of that information with panic flooding his brain in overdrive was not something Orion had ever thought he would have to deal with.
Gilda had been lost sometime in the mad dash to get away from combat. Her attempt to save him had been thwarted when three more assassins popped out of the haze and struck at him. At that point, he simply beat hooves and ran as fast as possible. He hoped she was okay.
In his naive days, he had fantasized about how he would always have the upper hand, with his enchantments guarding his surroundings with impunity. This would allow him to see danger coming miles away and anticipate whatever would be thrown at him.
The reality was that seeing a thing, in this case, a dagger, and knowing how to not only avoid the weapon but dodge debris and collapsed walls on top of it was a bit too much for his mind to process.
“Let's not forget some asshole is TRYING TO KILL ME!!”
Seeing an opening in a crumbled wall, he slid into the hole just as another blade struck the stone frame with a loud ping sound.
It had to be by luck alone that he hadn't died yet. His limbs propelled him bodily from one hiding spot to the next, only to be found moments later when the first griffon who had tried to kill Grace would appear and slash at him. If not for the short Blink spell he made for himself, he would have died four holes ago.
But this couldn't last. His horn was screaming at him for relief. The ache that had slowly gone away had returned tenfold and now made his head feel like a drum.
Shattering that nullstone ring was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now.
That griffon, he recognized the crow-like face now that he had managed to get a look at him, was Drystan.
“What in the hell is Rosecunt’s personal secretary doing here?!”
Though to call him a secretary might be stretching it. Thug might be more accurate in this case. Or assassin, considering how he had gotten so close so quickly.
The one time he had locked eyes with the bird-cat during the dinner some weeks back had been one of pure hostility the moment they had locked eyes.
He had avoided the bastard’s glare as much as possible from then on.
Now he was being chased by the fucker, and only by sheer determination and a generous amount of what must be god-like intervention, he was surviving.
The real issue was that while he could easily see and somewhat avoid the weapon slashes and thrown daggers, he could barely make out the drake himself. Even with the radar working in his favor, the killer was a wavy silhouette in his mind, as if he was not quite there. Through what could have been called reckless experimentation, he shut down the radar portion of the cylindrical bead and realized that it was the rangefinder that had been picking the bastard up.
The realization of that fact almost cost him his head, as he narrowly avoided being decapitated as the griffon had gotten way too close.
Crouching, he kept low inside the ruins of the house he was in. Orion's first foray into one of these temporary shelters had been a lesson in not breathing in smoke.
“Hot air rises, duh.” He didn’t want that smoke filling his lungs at such a crucial moment as this.
Keeping his head down, he peered out the windows, searching for his assailant. The problem with the rangefinder in this situation was that all he was getting was the room he was in and a little return from outside. The moon's crescent light was not doing much to illuminate the surrounding area either, so seeing anything was next to impossible.
“I must say, Pony, that I had not expected you to be so wiley a prey to catch.” Drystan's deep, sonorous voice made him jump, but his eyes quickly found the crow's location.
Stepping out of the shadows cast by one of the collapsed granaries across the street came the black-clothed drake. Looking at him now, Orion could see that the griffon was not in just cloth but a kind of blackened scale mail that covered most of his body. That much metal should have made a noise, but he had not heard a damn thing before narrowly dodging to save his own hide.
“Should I answer him?” He shook his head at the question. Of course, he shouldn't answer the bastard trying to kill him.
“I had been told the spell would last the whole night. How is it that you can tell where I am?” He asked, halting a dozen feet away from his hiding place of the moment. “How is it,” he paused, peering through the window at him, “that you were able to anticipate our attack?”
“Ah…shit.” So much for hiding. He was running out of options. All the casting he had been doing this night, and subsequent teleportations, big and small, were pushing him to the edge of Scouring. Orion was running on fumes.
“I'm psychic, asshole.” Oh, how he wished he had not said that. Movies had not been a good reference point for being a smartass to those trying to kill you. Instead of pissing them off to make a mistake, it was much more likely they would simply redouble their efforts. And judging by the ease with which Drystan brought up that slim short sword of his, the latter was once again going to prove true.
“I highly doubt that.” He responded acidly, cocking his head to one side. The griffon surprisingly spoke again. “I shall not tell you that you will be spared if you surrender. No, Pony, I intend to kill you tonight.” Bringing up a single claw, he continued. “However, I can make your death quick and painless, should you just hand over that little notebook you keep upon yourself. My Mistress would hate for your blood to stain it.”
“Double shit.” How they knew of his notebook was beyond him, but there was no way in hell he was giving it to this fucker.
“Notebook? What notebook?” His eyes shot past his intended killer. Seeking rescue.
“Do not play stupid with me, Pony. I know you have it on you. At this point, I have seen it several times. Hand it over.” Drystan’s eyes narrowed. “If you are hoping for help, no one is coming. The one who had accompanied you is not coming to save you.” Orion’s stomach sank as the black griffon shook his head. “A shame, my fellow countrygriff chose to fall. She fought quite the fight, killing three of my own before I clipped her wings. I expect she to have bled out by now.”
Bile tried to rise, but his throat had constricted tightly, allowing only air to pass through. And only just.
“Gilda? Dead?” His mind flooded with recent memories of her laughing, sharing smuggled cider with him. Making fun of him at his own expense. The confidence she seemed to exude when in her official capacity as a guard.
Silently and without his realization, tears fell down his cheeks. That Hen had become his friend throughout his stay in Griffonia, and now she was gone.
At this point in any story, Orion should be filled with righteous anger and burst from the ruined home to confront and kill this drake. But the knowledge that even she had fallen rooted his hooves to the ground and turned his limbs to jelly.
For the first time since laying eyes on Drystan, the griffon smiled.
“My Lady, the unicorns seemed to be readying a push.” A soldier, rank unknown, as most of the armor on her troops had been scorched or dented to make identification illegible.
“Shit.”
Since her arrival at what had become the forward operating base, the attacks on her forces had been sporadic. This was obviously meant to keep them penned in as the enemy's main host gathered their strength.
They were in dire straits without Orion to provide them with a countermeasure to another bombardment.
Standing, she strode past the messenger. Grace needed to see with her own eyes and was tired of only getting part of the picture.
It didn't take her long to get to the wall, and she marched up the steps quickly.
Not quickly enough, because Thorncrest appeared at the top, his eyes going wide and his hands making a stop gesture.
“My Lady, you shouldn't be here if they should see you-”
“If it is as bad as I think it is,” the noble hen pushed him aside, “then does it really matter if I am in shelter or not? Those fireballs will tear through that church with little effort. I want to see.”
And see, she did. Her heart rose in her throat while her stomach dove toward her paws.
Out past the smoldering fires, the wrecked battering rams that their foes had created, and the dead that littered the ground between, the enemy gathered.
“Double shit.” The curse slipped past her beak as she watched the enemy's ranks appear from smoke and fire in ordered lines.
“What was that, my Lady?” With wringing hands, one clutching the bandaged one, her Commander chose to join her at the balustrade.
“Nothing. It's not important.” It was with a heavy heart that she acknowledged the battle was over. With Orion, they had a chance to stall but no real hope of winning. It was simply a numbers game, and the Colts just couldn't hope to match it.
Her mind drifted as she watched the enemy advance, slowly picking up steam.
The townsfolk were doomed. The ponies would not leave a soul alive. The Iron Dogs, those brave mutts who had not run the moment the attack began, even if they had first cowered in their holes, had been remarkable at helping to secure the wounded. Often carrying the injured in their arms as they bore them into the tunnels of their Warren. They might survive if they dug deep and fast enough. Instead, they chose to help.
Would her Uncle listen to any who might speak of what happened here?
“Sir, scouts have spotted activity to the north.” Came a report from another messenger.
“Do not tell me the ponies had yet another army in the area…”
“What is it?” Thorncrest barked.
“We are not certain, Sir. The report says there are two Diamond Dogs out there.” Grace's eyes widened as they swung toward the messenger, a young ensign.
“What did you say?” She asked unsteadily.
“Two, Diamond Dogs, Ma'am.” The officer looked worried. “Is that wrong?”
“Two Iron Dogs, Ensign.” She admonished absently. “Was…was one of them really tiny? Shorter than the other?”
Glancing at the slip in his hand, he nodded. “Yes, Ma'am. Two, uh, Iron Dogs. One diminutive in size compared to the other.”
“What were they doing?” It had to be Barney and Balo, but why were they outside the walls?
“Running. Ma'am. Running like the Northwinds were chasing them.” Invoking the Northwinds was basically saying a demon was chasing them, for those Winds took many lives each year when winter swept in without remorse from the icefields.
Grace's eyes turned back toward the approaching force. What were they up to?
“SIR!” Yet another messenger, flying at breakneck speed, thudded into the floor of the upraised platform. “Sir,” she panted. “Sir, something is chasing the two Diamond Dogs! We didn't get a good look, though it is pale and large.”
“What? Something is chasing them?” Thorncrest seemed to be stuck in a repeat manner, and she was not going to have it.
“Where are they headed.” She demanded, cutting off further debate on what it was.
The Sergeant, likely a veteran by the look of her, stepped back and gulped.
“T-toward the…enemy, Ma'am?” She squeaked out.
“THIS IS CRAZY! THIS IS CRAZY!”
The little voice in the back of his mind had gone from soft and quiet to loud and abrasive. It was his mother's voice, the one that often tempered his anger with remembered words of wisdom. She had balanced out his father's much more fierce side, making them a ruling combo to be feared and respected back in the day.
He had to agree with that voice. It was ridiculous. Balo had tried very hard to talk him out of this fool plan, but he could either die in a hole with his tail tucked between his legs or die on his paws, head held high.
He was so very tired of having his tail between his legs.
He wondered if his father would be proud of him now.
Behind them, the crash of trees being struck aside as the behemoth they had antagonized an hour before chased after them through the forest. Other than the initial scream upon spotting them, the beast had made no other sound. But the underbrush easily gave its location away as it plowed past them.
Barney’s lungs burned. He had never run this much or for this long. His little legs were not meant for this, and he was not meant for this.
“What happened to letting Balo lead the damn thing?!”
What happened was what always happened when he planned something by himself. It went wrong.
Bursting from the tree line, he spotted the band of unicorns approaching the town walls. Already, many horns were glowing, likely making the first formations of the bombardment spells splinter their fortifications and break inside.
“Just in time.” He thought ruefully. At least something was going right tonight.
“Balo! You remember the plan?!” He shouted, garnering the attention of a few puzzled ponies in the rear ranks. Their heads whipped around to spy them out.
“Yep! Dig!” Balo panted. His underling was close enough, and he had no time to repeat himself.
“Right! On my signal! We have to make sure It sees them first, or this has been pointless!” He did not want that thing chasing them back into the dirt. It was fast! Far too fast for them to outpace much longer.
With a cry, he redoubled his efforts, legs burning in agony as he charged right for the enemy formation, who in turn began to shift to meet them.
Everbloom was not completely happy. The failed assassination of Orion Falls had made her furious.
Something had gone disastrously wrong. That last attempt had created a ripple that just wouldn't stop.
However, it seemed he was at least out of the picture for the time being. Drystan must have found him because the flashes of a magic signature, from what her scryers could detect blind as they were, were getting further and further away.
Finally, things were beginning to go her way.
It hadn't been hard to spot Grace Fairheart sitting pretty on top of her little wall. While her first thought was to have a few unicorns link and kill her with a magic missile, she felt spiteful and wanted the hen to watch as her inevitable victory came crashing down on her.
“Ma'am! Two Diamond Dogs are charging right at us!”
“Two what?” Turning, she saw the puzzling spectacle of two mutts charging right for her north lines. One, the shorter of the pair, was even screaming. “Have they gone mad?”
She should have been paying more attention behind them. They all should have. The roar made a fair number jump, including making those who had fired spells at the running pair completely miss the first volley of blasts aimed at the still-running dogs. Somepony was being proactive, at least.
Looking up and past them, her own shriek left her mouth. A pale creature burst from the treeline, eyes focusing on them with a hungry four-eyed gaze.
The massive beast was born across the ground on two legs, its long, thick body creating a ditch as it clawed its way across the ground.
It had no horns, yet it had what looked to be vestigial wings perched on its back. Rough and decimated, they twitched with what she could only imagine was glee.
The monster roared again.
“WHAT BY THE SUN IS A BASILISK DOING HERE?!”
“NOW, DIG YOU FOOL!” He wasn’t sure if that was for him or Balo. Suiting his own words, Barney dove to the ground, his paws parting the dirt like jelly as he tore into it, quickly submerging his body below the earth.
Hopefully, with them out of sight so suddenly and a new snack just sitting there, waiting for it to bite into, the Basilisk would hopefully ignore their absence and go right for the bigger meal. At this point, the thing had to be starving, right?
“I hope Balo got out of there.” With the crash of a massive body and the thudding of many hooves, he couldn't hear much of anything else. “Please be safe, old friend.”
Grace could only stand in awe and horror.
She had secretly dismissed Orion's claims of a Basilisk living in the abandoned portions of the old Warrens the Iron Dogs had once lived in. How could she have really believed in a creature that was more myth than reality?
The Roc had been one thing, but the second, even more, rare creature of death living below the ground not a few miles away had to be a fabrication, right?
Apparently not, as the beast turned its gaze from the Iron Dogs, who were quickly vanishing into the dirt below, right onto the front of the line of startled and clearly frightened ponies. Who were so terrified they had fired off several magical shots, missing Barney and his underling by mere paces.
“What, by the Winds, is that?!” Thorncrest's voice broke her from her reverie.
“That, Commander Thorncrest, is Orion's Basilisk.” She responded. Her voice was a strange mix of panicked calm.
Something else has broken into her thoughts. Something Orion Falls had mentioned as if it were an afterthought when he was planning out the town’s new defenses and supports.
“It seems Basilisks hate Iron.”
—---
Everbloom screamed again. This time in command.
“FIRE!! FIRE EVERYTHING YOU GOT! FIRE FOR OUR LIVES!”
Grace and her remaining officers watched, as the Basilisk, magical attacks seeming to bounce off its hide without slowing it down, crashed into the first row of screaming, terrified ponies. It began spraying a green mist in all directions.
Cries of fear turned into bellows of agony as the green haze swept over the first few rows of troops. Where it touched, flesh turned to stone, sending the unicorns into paralytic agony. They fell to their knees, clutching at the place they had been struck, only for the miasma to flow over them and complete the job as it spread deeper into the ranks of hapless soldiers.
It did not stop there. As shrieks of terror wailed on, it dove its muzzle into the mass of panicked unicorns and bit down. The sound of flesh and stone cracking under the tremendous bite force of the creature, the Basilisk began to eat. Viscera sprayed everywhere with each victim it found, and blood splattered skyward when it reeled back to angle its meal down its gullet.
“I think I'm gonna be sick, Sir.” Muttered one of the lieutenants.
“Me too, Brackfeather.” Responded Thorncrest, revulsion clear in his voice.
Grace could only nod. In her brief time as the niece to Sigurd Bloodbeak, she had been subjected to death on more than one occasion in one fashion or another. But this was a level of brutality the hen was unprepared to witness.
“Don't just stand there and gawk like a bunch of pups at their first rut!” Shouted an all too familiar voice behind them.
Slowly, as one, they turned to Barney. The Iron Dogs’ leader, covered in dirt and breathing heavily, had a grin on his face that said he knew exactly what happened.
“B-Barney?” She began slowly. “How did you come up with that?!” She jabbed a finger at the carnage behind them.
“A story for later, my…Lady.” The words seemed awkward and unpracticed, but they were genuine. “Right now, we need to get as many chunks of iron as possible and prepare to hole up in the Warrens. That beast is going to finish his meal soon and will want to find a new hole to burrow into.” Suiting his words, he picked up a clump of earth and sniffed it. “Or try and kill us, at the very least.”
“We help!”
Behind Barney came a mix of Griffon and Iron Dog civilians. Aspen stood at their head, looking angry as she wielded a crude axe in both hands. They stood in line, grim faces set. In their hands, various farming equipment was reworked into makeshift polearms and rudimentary swords.
“What?” Was about all Grace could get out before one of the smiths stepped forward. Godrick, his face a mask of grim determination.
“My Lady, when we heard ya was going out to confront the enemy. We couldn't sit by any longer.” Others nodded behind him, including several of the Dogs. “Ya did so much for us. The pony did so much for us. We can't just stand aside and hope for protection from others. This is our home.” He stabbed the blunt end of his spear into the ground. “Now, I know we've come too late to fend off ponies. But we've got iron weapons, I and the boys,” he cocked his head as the new word born from the mutts entered his vocabulary, “didn't have time to make anything with the new steel. So maybe this is for the better.”
Her eyes drifted over the weapons, and she could not help but feel proud. It had been a very long time since she had seen anyone with that hopeful determination in their eyes. For too long since she had arrived, she had witnessed nothing but bent backs and sorrowful faces. No fight in the common griff, for it had long been beaten out by hardship and starvation.
This was a great turn for her people. They had something to protect, something to cherish, even if it was all to ruin. They tasted better days and would have them again, whether by effort or violence.
“Well, whatever we decide to do, we better do it quick. We got trouble.” When had Barney climbed up the stairs?
Matching his gaze, she swiftly saw the problem.
The enemy army had broken. Shattered would be a more precise word to use. Those still alive and not either chewed or turned to stone were running for all they were worth. Which would be great, save for one problem. A great many of them were running toward the wall, drawing the Basilisk’s attention toward the town.
“Fuck!” She cursed. “Commander!”
“Yes, my Lady!” He called back, but rather than wait for orders, he gave them. “Archers! To your positions, I want you to make a new species of pony, Porcucorns!”
Grace's eyebrows rose, and she gave the normally stoic officer a quizzical look. A small smile quirked his beak. Perhaps there was more to the often subdued drake than she suspected.
“FIRE!”
Dozens of bows snapped.
“I grow tired of waiting, Pony.” For some reason, Drystan had given him more time than he would otherwise deserve. The why was a mystery, and Orion really couldn't find it within himself to question it.
“Doesn't matter. I'm a dead man.” How had wanting to help some folks turned into his own death warrant? He was trying to do right this time around!
“Pony. Come out. Now!” The drake snapped at him.
He gripped the satchel tightly. Despite all the hopping and jumping around, the strap had somehow managed to keep the man-purse on him through it all.
“This is so fucked! What do I do?!” He was dead. He knew it. The moment he stepped out, he was going to die.
“Grace.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. She had not deserved this. He had brought hell to her people for his own idea of self-atonement. Then there was Gilda.
His face contorted into fury.
“You know what? If I'm gonna die, he's still not gonna get shit!” If this was truly the end for him, he was going to make that bastard bird pay for it.
Slowly rising to shaky hooves, no amount of anger could get them to stop. He stepped forward. It was so hard to follow that up with the next.
“Finally.” The resonant voice of Drystan spoke. Obvious satisfaction echoed in that tone, his beak quirking into a smile the black colt could hardly see.
Placing one hoof before the other, he gingerly walked into the dim light of the crescent moon.
“There. It seems even ponies can make the logical conclusion when their number is up. Now. The bag.” The black griffon held out his free hand. “Toss it here. Nice and easy.”
Orion did not do that. Instead, he chucked it at the bastard and dove to the side, scrambling for what was left of a wall he had spotted before.
Before leaving Equestria, he installed a gem into the spine of his notebook. This crystal was attuned to his magical signature and his alone.
Magic exists in all things in this world. And everyone living, even inanimate objects, has a magical signature. With that thought in mind, the black pony, every day of his stay in Griffonia, cast a spell into the gem, ensuring the contents inside the bag would remain confidential. One way or the other.
As the satchel drifted within the five-foot range he had set before taking this plunge, the crystal detonated. The explosive fireball consumed his notes, his books, everything that was inside and rapidly expanded toward the stunned griffon. The momentum of the blazing orb took it right into the now not-so-confident Drystan not so smug face.
With a shriek of panic and rage, the drake attempted to fly backward, but it was too late. Flames enveloped him, and that was all he could see of his adversary after he fell with a thump onto the cold stones beneath him.
Moments passed, and the colt hesitated to look. Afraid it had not been enough, Drystan was merely waiting for him to come out.
Orion peered above his hiding place. “Did I get him?” Those words seemed to tug at something inside, painfully so.
Peering over the edge of a stone wall, he spotted him. On the ground, now several feet away, lay the corpse of his assassin. The armor was still smoking in the moonlight.
“Holy. Shit.” He muttered, slowly rising to stand over the griffon. “I killed him…” Another painful tug in his guts. “What is wrong with me?”
Rising slowly, he approached the downed killer. Looking over the body with a critical eye. Any movement, and he would run as hard as he could.
The slash below his chest caught him completely off guard, even though he had been looking for it. He screamed out, falling back to land on his ass. One hand pulled him along as the other clutched at the wound, now pulsing his lifeblood down his stomach.
The not-so-dead Drystan stumbled to his paws, his armor, fur, and feathers still smoking, as he glared hatefully at Orion. The colt had merely scorched the bastard, and his hopes for surviving completely fell off.
“You…little.” The drake panted. “You little…shit!” He roared, stepping forward in a slow, methodical chase. “You couldn't just make this easy. Could you?!”
Orion's eyes widened and abandoned trying to hold on his blood with a hand.
Thinking quickly, his horn glowed, and a thin stream of flame cauterized the gash across his solar plexuses from his hands. Since its discovery, he had refrained from using that particular talent in front of anyone. But now was not the time to be picky on who saw what.
The action gave his assassin pause. A look of surprise and utter befuddlement overtook his features.
“What..?”
That hesitation was all he needed to jump to his hooves and book it across the open street toward another house.
“No! You will not escape me again!” Drystan shouted, charging after him. Orion could hear the powerful flaps of his wings as the bastard took to the air and chased after him.
The black pony knew he shouldn't look back, but he did. Wings beating angrily at the air, Drystan propelled himself forward, his blade jutting outstretched toward his target.
“I'm fucked! I'm fucked! I am so fucked!”
The radar , which he had turned back on again despite its limitations, blipped at him. A new signature appeared in his mind's eye.
Gilda, her armor in tatters and a bandage wrapping up her middle and chest burst from an alleyway next to him and slashed upwards, catching the scale mail of the drake and tearing it apart with her broad blade.
“ORION! RUN! NOW!” She screamed, beak in a rictus snarl as she faced off against Rosebreast's servant.
“YOU BITCH!” The drake bellowed, drawing back in time to avoid the worst of the blow and lunging forward to skewer her through the chest.
Gilda Broadwing shrieked. Orion Falls whimpered and fell into the house entrance.
And he kept falling, right into the cellar that had been burned out by the fires that had claimed the home. Twisting around, he saw Drystan leap in after him; blade raised high for the killing blow.
This was it. He was going to die.
“No…no…”
“NO!!” Hands scrambling, he picked up the first thing he fumbled upon and thrust it forward, his eyes slammed tight to the inevitable.
A vibration shuddered through his instrument of defense. Moments passed, and the promise of death did not come.
Something warm flooded over his fingers. Dribbled onto his face.
Cracking an eye open, his other soon joined him as he sat, stunned by the strange and frightening sight before him.
Drystan, his blade mere inches from the pony's face, was impaled on the pointy end of a smoldering plank of wood. The end, having gone right into the open hole in his armor and out the other.
The drake's own eyes bulged, and the griffon was rigid in shock.
“H…ow….did….that,” whatever he was going to say did not come. Orion Falls watched as the light of life left the killer's wretched gaze.
The Basilisk bellowed in anger and frustration as a makeshift iron spear found purchase in the softer parts of its underbelly. Its cries sent everyone's ears back, pinned against their skulls, yet did not halt their own assault.
The people of Aviary, Iron Dog, and Griffon did not yield. The soldiers did not falter. Everybody capable of lifting anything continued their assault on this terrifying creature.
Its mist, that poisoned miasma meant to cripple its prey, was rendered useless by a few soldiers who had the brilliant idea to rise above and flap as hard as they could to dissipate the smog before it rose over the wall robbing it of a needed offense.
The beast’s attempts to strike those who dared take to the sky were thwarted by the villagers, who hurled clumps of ore and iron weapons, the former provided by the Iron Dogs, who were working furiously to dig up more. This halted its attacks, much to the beast's fury.
When it roared, the people of Aviary roared back in defiance of its nature. Of its malice.
Grace had been forced to the rear. None of her people wanted her involved in this. This was her people's fight, and she would only get in the way.
But she could feel it. Something powerful seemed to hum in the air. With each hurl of weapon and shout of anger, it grew in pitch and thrummed within her breast.
Were the others feeling it as well?
The old yet new Burgermeister of the town hurled another spear, and the weapon's point slammed home into the Basilisk's eye.
“TAKE THAT, YOU VILE LIVER-EATER!” She cried. Her face shown with an exuberance for a Griffon half her age.
That blow seemed to make the creature's mind. With a bellowing cry of pain and anger, it hurled itself from the walls and slithered unsteadily toward the tree line, screeching as it went.
Stunned silence reigned over everyone as they watched its tail disappear into the darkness. It was almost deafening.
Commander Thorncrest was the first to break the stillness. He shouted. No, he roared in victory, in relief.
His voice was joined by every throat, her own included. Citizens capered in the magically pocked marked street. Iron Dogs howled and spun. Laughter broke from several groups, including the soldiers who clapped not only their own on the back but the young towngriffons who had stood with them.
They had done it. And that hum of what she could only think of as pride grew louder in her heart. In her soul.
Sigurd paced the halls of his castle. The keep that had kept his family safe for generations. Through failure and sorrow, it had stood firm against rebellion. Against other Great Houses that had tried in years gone by to take it from them.
He was not the only one. Servants wandered the halls with a look of bewilderment on their faces. Rather than remaining silent at their posts, the guards clutched at their chests and looked at each other in confusion. Smiles wared with the stoic visage they tried and failed to achieve.
He heard their whispers. There was no concern; whatever had woken them or stirred them from their duties had not been one of worry. But of sudden welling of what could only be pride.
Something had happened or was happening. It was like the thrum of some great creature reverberated into their bones, their souls.
Eyes lifting from the stone walkway he found himself wandering on, he discovered that he had somehow come to the Grand Cavern of Griffonia. The air felt warmer here. The hum was louder.
His beak broke open in astonishment when he gazed out across the expanse to the ancient yet unassailable ruins.
The great Citadel of Boreas pulsed softly. Gold, green, blue, and so on through all the existing colors. It repeated. And with each repeat, the hum grew louder within his ears. Within his chest.
Something had happened, and as the comforting thrum of power washed through him, he knew it was something glorious.
Val Shadow-wing stood, still weighing his options, when something swept through him that nearly knocked him to his knees.
The air, the forest itself, and even he seemed to vibrate by some unseen force of power that humbled him.
It was warm, strong, and comforting. His soul spoke of glory long since lost, of pride shattered by the cruelty of this world, both on him and his people.
Pride. Something he had lost along the way as he sold his services for the sake of others. Broken by the very hen who had been sworn to care for him and his own. That thrum of power spoke to him of hope. It sufficed into his very soul and brought tears of shame to his eyes.
His gaze looked to the east, where he could feel it coming from. “Yes…” he said into the gloom, “I've stained my soul black enough.”
His wings beat the air into submission as he shot into the sky.
It was time for lies to be cast aside.
Celestia stood on the balcony of her rooms. The late-night paperwork was left abandoned.
There was something in the air. She could feel it, only faintly but there on the edges of her senses.
Ancient power the likes she had not felt in centuries, no a millennium, seemed to be alive in the air this night.
Her magenta orbs gazed upon the city—her city. The alicorn’s sharp eyes, aided by the slim silver light of the moon, studied it, noting the griffons suddenly coming out of their homes, the alleys, and forges on the distant third plate. All their gazes were fixed northward.
Her own gaze drifted to follow. Something was happening in Griffonia. Something she had not foreseen.
Eberhard drifted from shadow to shadow. The thrum of what he could only call Pride resonated within him.
He wanted to laugh, to cry out in joy. What was this feeling? Where did it come from? It was difficult to stay on task with such promise of hope rushing through him.
Stalking from battle site to the next, old skills awoken by memory and that Hum allowed him to track the pony's hoof steps as they pushed deeper into the town's wreckage.
He had found the end of many assassins, peppering the journey of a desperate struggle for survival.
Behind Orion's marks came two other sets from the placement. One stalked. Their impressions spoke of an old enemy.
Lonelycall had seen his tracks before in alleys and abroad. Punctuated by the end of some griffon he was supposed to protect.
Drystan had come, and this attack now made more sense to him. Rosebreast had grown worried and had made a decision. The unicorn force was meant to be a scapegoat for the sacking of Aviary. One she could avoid fault for entirely.
Of course, it is a clever plan from a very clever hen.
His beak tightened.
The other set of paw prints, with blood marking them, lead from the most recent fight, where the armor of a sergeant had been laid aside. Crimson ichor stained around a hole driven from the back forward into the belly.
“Oh, Gilda, you don't know when to give up, do you?”
“Gilda?!” A voice, more distinctly a pony’s voice, echoed into the still night. “GILDA!!” That cry was desperate, and Eberhard moved with alacrity toward its source. His decision had been made, though he loathed it.
“GILDA!!” Orion cried, falling to his knees beside the prone form of the guard, his friend. The scrap of his knees over roughly uneven stone hurt, but he didn't notice as he looked over the various wounds inflicted on the hen. The latest gushed violently from her chest, where the bandages had been ripped open anew with a well-placed slash.
He had waited too long, sat frozen on that cold ground covered in the blood of his enemy. Unable to process what he had done.
The enormity of taking a life had left a toil on his mind that rendered him motionless as he tried to process all that had meant. Killing a wooden dog was one thing, but a life, one with a soul of their own? It was difficult to grasp.
Upon finally pulling his mind from thoughts better talked about with a therapist that he knew he would never see, he had climbed back out of the cellar, out of the crumbling home that the assault had broken.
His call for his friend had been tentative, unsure of what he might find. When he laid his eyes on her prone form, the wail of her name ripped from his throat.
“Oh God. Oh, Jesus. Oh fuck!” He cried, panicked as his horn burst to life and his hands followed suit.
One of his biggest secrets had already been exposed once. What was another showing?
Orion’s scans revealed an ugly scene. Gilda had suffered more than just a couple of blows. Her intestines were a mess. Several sections of the larger and smaller colons were heavily nicked or downright severed. The left lung had collapsed entirely. The blade of Drystan had driven clear through and narrowly missed her heart.
There were more than a dozen cuts along her outer flesh, somehow rapidly decaying as he watched. Poison.
Her wings, her wings were destroyed beyond repair of the best healers. Even a novice like him could see it.
“Oooh…fuck…” His horn glowed brighter, becoming a torch that cast the ground and crumbled walls around them in golden black light. The bony protrusion burned and throbbed in pain. Again, he ignored that agony as well.
“Where do I even begin?!”
He was no medic. He told her the truth when he said he could barely heal a cut. This much damage was surely beyond him.
He shook his head, trying to dispel those doubts within. If he could heal the muscle and ligament strain brought on by his boosting spells, he could heal this.
“First…the lungs. She…she needs to breathe.” Focusing, he looked within his friend once again and started patching the holes where the blade had gone through.
The blood that filled the space was the easiest part. Capesso , using a very low setting, easily removed that, though that came after he used some of the plasma as biomass to stitch up the holes there.
Gently, he forced air into her lungs, and she gasped out, pain on her face as she coughed up blood he had not seen trapped in her esophagus.
“Gilda!” He shouted, and her hand smacked him in the face.
“Don't...shout. You shit…head.” She gasped, and his lips broke into a smile.
“Hang in there…I…I can do this.” Orion said gently, his eyes drifting down to her abdomen, where already his magically enhanced vision could see toxins infecting her blood. “I…”
“No…you can…barely…heal…a buh…buh…bruise.” She groaned. Her eyes drifted up and widened. “Stop…your horn…”
“What? My horn?” Reaching up, he gingerly touched and hissed, jerking his hand away. That bony protrusion was now smoking, and he had no choice but to let the magic go.
Darkness swept over both of them.
“Gilda…I…”
“It's…okay…Colt.” She spoke, blood still slowly trickling from her beak as she looked up at him. The sad smile said she knew what was coming. Her death. She chuckled.
“What…what's so fuckin' funny, you jackass.” He winced, talking loudly, which seemed to hurt his head too much.
“You…heh…you killed him…didn't you…” She gasped, back arching, hands flailing at her stomach.
“I…I uh…yeah I…I…” He couldn't say a damn thing. He didn't want to. He had never wanted to. Killing a mindless beast had been one thing. At the end of the day the Timberwolf had been just an animal. Even that rudimentary knife back in the day had been more a means of defense than actual intent to murder someone.
Now, he had crossed that line, and his body revolted. The pain of that realization hurting something he couldn't quite understand within him.
“It's okay…you…you did…good…” Her face changed from one of agony to puzzlement. “Do you…feel…that?” Her voice sounded surprised.
Looking about, Orion saw nothing. “Feel what?” Tears were drying on his cheeks.
“No…” Her hand drifted slowly up and tapped his chest. “In there.”
Now puzzled, he closed his eyes and focused. There was something there. A strange hum filled him. In his panic and grief-stricken state, he had not noticed it before. It was surprisingly comforting.
“What is it?” He asked, looking down at her.
“I…don't know.” She gasped. “But it feels….good.” She smiled. “It's okay.”
“No, it most certainly is not. I gotta do something to-.” Again, her hand found his face, bloody fingers pressed into his lips.
“No…you don't.” Her eyes caught his own. “You…you've done more…than what any…griffon…could ask of someone.”
“It's…not enough.” New tears were making their way down old tracks, falling on her raised arm. He clutched at her limb, the dried blood staining his fingers, crumbling. “You saved me! I can't-”
“Oh, you silly fledgling.” She laughed. The idiot hen laughed, blood erupting from several points on her stomach, causing her to groan. “Huh.” She muttered. “Maybe not…anymore…you survived your….your first battle, after…all.”
“By luck.”
“Luck…of battle…is a thing…Orion.” She gasped. Her arm’s strength gave out, and he was left bearing the whole weight. “I think…yeah, I think we won. Can you hear that? That…is the shouts…of victory.”
Orion listened. Off in the distance was the roar of voices echoing out from what he believed was the wall that encompassed much of the town.
Had they really fought off the unicorns?
Gilda gasped and seized up once more. Sudden and violent strength returned, and she gripped his hand tightly.
“Orion!” She said breathlessly. “I…want…you to…send me…off.”
“What? No. I gotta get you to someone!” He rebuked.
“Shut up. Wake…up. Nothing…can help. I know, you seen it.” She was right. Even without his magic, he remembered the damage done. He just didn't want to admit it. For that would mean admitting she was going to die. “Please…send me to Boreas. My pyre…awaits.”
She smiled at him. It was beautiful and kind. And for the second time in his life, and the first for someone he cared about, he watched the light fade from her eyes.
“Gilda.” He whispered. Not wanting to accept the truth. “Gilda!?” He clutched at her, pulling her into his arms and shaking her body. “GILDA!”
Nothing. She didn't respond; deep within him, he knew she never would again.
Hugging her tightly, headless of her blood staining his clothes, his body. His soul. He moaned.
That moan turned into a groan, and then a wail as he cried his heart out into her lifeless body.
Eberhard stood over the colt. His blade was poised to strike. But his body wouldn't respond.
His heart, it seemed, would not allow it.
As he watched the pony weep and cry for another, not his own, he realized his choice, while logical, was all too wrong. This pony would die before allowing himself to be used against his will.
He would fight, beak, and claw for those around him.
Sheathing his weapon, he walked up and placed a hand on Orion’s shoulder. The pony jumped and looked, pain etched upon his tear-streaked face.
“Eber…I…I tried.” He said through clenched teeth.
“I know.” Lonelycall knelt down, and for the first time in twenty years, he embraced someone. A pony. Orion Falls. And they both wept for the loss.
Author's Note
So...uh. Yeah, I am not ashamed to say I cried at the end of this. I didn't think I had it in me. I didn't even want to do it, and I sought for a way to preserve her. But see, that's why I kinda rely on some dice. They keep me on the path that I would otherwise avoid. Pain.
I didn't really like Drystan's character I had developed almost ten chapters back. It did not match him, so I retconned him, and that will reflect in Chapter 29, Laid Plans.
I, don't have much more to say. This chapter really took a lot out of me, what with the rewrites, and the editing, and the constant experience of anguish I had to go through as I essentially killed off what I believed could have been a great character.
I'm...gonna get a drink. Think I need it. You all have a wonderful day, and I hope the week treats you all wonderfully.
I made a blog post earlier this evening, for a Q&A session if any of you want to ask some questions. Please submit any you may have there, so I can keep it organized as much as possible.
Thanks for reading, and may the dice ever roll in your favor.
Peace!
Author's Note
Good morning everyone!
This is it.
The final chapter. At least for this Arc. I will be continuing on with the next Arc in the story. I've got 3 chapters done so far, but it's shaping up to be the end of the summer drop instead of a month or two from now. It's the summer so folks are buying beer like its a spending spree.
Now, onto the questions I've gotten!
Undead Lunar has 2:
Hope that helps Lunar, thanks for the questions.
SCIENTIFIC NUTJOB asks:
Evilhero asks:
Forest Spirit asks:
Cris asks:
Hope that cleared some stuff up for you.
Sunkiller asks:
Again, thank you all for having so much patience with me. I know I say it a lot, but I really appreciate you sticking around.
Peace!
Homeward Bound
Pop
He winced at the sound echoing in the still darkness.
“You are getting old, Eber.” He muttered as he rubbed his knee, ignoring the slight burn in the joint and continuing his journey up the spiral stone steps. He wished for what felt like the hundredth time he had allowed himself a light to guide his journey up.
The new ache, a new reminder of his age and how he shouldn't be tramping up what felt like a league of stairs. However, the pain was oddly welcome.
The spiral steps he had been navigating in the dark were purposely long. Forgotten by the majority of the castle staff.
By most, but not all, and certainly not him, it was his job to know these things. Little hidden secrets forgotten by everyone.
Pausing again, he adjusted the straps on his parcel that had slipped below his waist again. His tail feathers would never be right again. The rough leather had begun to dig a little too deeply into them for his liking.
A tentative sniff, and he resumed waking.
Orion had assured him that the contents would not be disturbed, leaked, or smell during transit. The temporary spell would last up to six months before needing to be recast or replacing the crystal sunken into the top of the lid.
Neither of which would be available to him, but that didn't matter. What mattered was getting to his destination without delay.
Though, those assurances did not leave him with the greatest comfort. Pushing on, the reedy griffon thought of the pony who had done so much for his people. Who nearly paid a terrible price for such kindness. By his own hand, no less.
Before he left the town of Aviary, it had been decided that Orion Falls would be traveling southwest. Both he and Grace Fairheart had to remain unaccounted for in terms of national awareness. Such deception was, unfortunately necessary, considering the assault on the village and the revelation of Drystan. Keeping Rosebreast off their trail and in the dark about what details occurred that night was considered paramount.
The colt raised no objections, looking tired and worn before their mutual departure. Considering what had transpired, everyone could understand his sudden, withdrawn nature.
Once Lady Fairheart delivers him to the train station in Grapple, she would immediately be diverting back to Neighbon to await instructions from her Uncle. The prospect of returning to that town was souring, to say the least.
She would not be eager to sit amongst them if what he had heard about their trip and the Watchers there were true.
That brought his thoughts back to himself. Eberhard had not been happy with the idea of being separated from his young charge, but he had to concede to the point she had raised.
Of all the soldiers and staff she had at hand, only he knew how to get to King without being noticed or seen.
“Perhaps I should finally take on an apprentice…” If it would spare his knees unnecessary abuse, he would strongly consider it. Another little pop echoed into the darkness.
The final step up came as all others did, his hesitant paw tracing out the platform before pulling his frame forward: thirty-three thousand two hundred and twelve steps. The number itself held no real significance outside of how many steps there actually were. However, when one has to traverse the darkness like this, it is key to knowing how far he has come.
The landings had been a welcome reprieve but one he rarely took as time was still of the essence.
Stepping forward and turning left by memory alone, he pushed gently on the wall to determine if it was locked or not.
The wall gave way for him easily, and he pressed his shoulder to the flat surface and shoved, grateful to see the soft light of dawn breaking through.
Unfortunately, his journey the rest of the way into the waiting chambers was halted by the tip of a spear stopping just short of his eye.
“My apologies, Lady Gabriella.” He had expected something like this, considering the fact that he was technically sneaking into their bedchambers at the crack of dawn. Perhaps the weapon was a bit too close to his face, but he was not in a position to complain to his Queen.
“Master Lonelycall.” Gabriella Fairheart spoke evenly, but he could still hear the bite in his name. There she stood in a rather thin gusset nightgown of ivory and little else. “Can you tell me why you chose to use the evacuation staircase?”
“Again, I do apologize for this unseemly intrusion, my Lady.” He gave a thin smile as he shifted the weight of his package about his shoulders. “Unfortunately, the nature of my visit and the events that proceed with it have forced my hand in this regard, as our enemies should not be made aware that I have even arrived at the castle this morn.”
Gabriella sniffed, wrinkled her nose, and placed the end of the weapon she bore on the carved stone floor. “It must be fairly important to risk death.” She huffed. “Or to smell like it. I mean, honestly, why do you smell as if you haven’t seen the inside of a bath in a month?”
“Ah.” Shuffling, he unloaded his package onto the floor and leaned back, hands on his hips. Several resounding pops were accompanied by a groan of satisfaction. He chuckled at her raised eyebrow, hands falling to his sides. “That might be due to the fact that for the past week, I have been, as the young might say, roughing it. I fear I have spent more time in the forests this year than I have in my entire life.” He surreptitiously took his own sample of his scent and restrained his disgust. “Considering the reason I am here, including arriving by the aforementioned staircase, I think my unfortunate odor is more than worth it.”
“Yes.” She said, brow furrowing. “I suspect. Do you have any information you want my husband to hear of it, too? Or will this be between us?”
“I am afraid it is very important that both of you must hear this news. I should also remind you with fervent hope that my being here should not be known by anyone other than you and King Bloodbeak.”
“Fine.” She relented, finally walking away and placing the spear on the rack by the door. “But if you must remain in our rooms, I will demand you use the washroom to clean yourself up. You are not in the woods any longer, and I refuse to allow that,” she gestured vaguely at him, “stench to linger where I change.”
“Thank you, my Lady.” He bowed, but she had already left the room.
Sighing wistfully, he made his way into the washroom on the right. He could only pray that there would come a day when tensions between them could finally come to an end.
“Eberhard. While I am happy to see you, I am more interested in knowing why you are here and, more importantly, where my niece is and why you are not with her.” Sigurd was not being mean, but Eberhard easily recognized the stress in his Lord’s tone. His storming in like the Northwind only seemed to enunciate his agitation as he unceremoniously sat down in a huff.
Tightening the belt of the robe a bit more firmly, Eberhard bowed low.
“Your niece is safe and sound, your Majesty. By now, she must have arrived in Grapple, and she shall soon depart to Neighbon to await your missives.”
“And why is she in Grapple?” Gabriella said, coming up beside her husband with a goblet of spice wine if his sense of smell did not fail him. “If memory serves me correctly, that city is little more than a fluffed-up village.”
“That would be because she is seeing the young Master Falls off.” He raised his hands to forestall further questions, and he continued. “Let me first tell you what has occurred and, more importantly, why I’ve come alone.”
Sigurd tried very hard to keep his mouth from falling open.
Aviary attacked in the night. The near assassination of not only his niece but her guest as well. And the worst offense, Margarette Rosebreast, was at the center of the attempted subversion of Grace Fairheart’s rule in a town she had utmost authority in.
His wife, unfortunately, did not share his restraint.
“THAT WHORE MUST DIE!” She shrieked, and not for the first time. He was glad of their residence in the castle being largely isolated from the rest of the keep.
“Still, I shall have to have words with the guards outside to say nothing of what they may hear today.”
“In this, my Lady, I will agree with you wholeheartedly.” Eberhard smoothly said, as if he didn’t just bring them the most disturbing news to date. “However, I must encourage caution. Marga-”
“Do not dare speak that puffed-up pigeon’s name!” Gabriella snapped. She almost jerked herself away when Sigurd placed a hand on her arm but allowed him to pull her firmly into his lap.
Such displays were often hidden from others' eyesight, but he needed to calm her quickly. His Bride had a fiery temper that, if not doused quickly, could linger for days on end.
“My Fire, I am just as upset as you are. But please, calm yourself. Grace is safe. Aviary, for good or ill, will recover.”
“Ah, yes. With the supplies Master Falls has supplied, they shall make it through the coming winter.” His old friend tried to helpfully provide. He snorted in amusement. “The stalwart citizens are already rallying and rebuilding their homes and farmland. With the help of the Iron Dogs, I have no doubt they will more than survive.”
“That,” the King of Griffonia pointed, “is something I’m not so certain I am comfortable with.” He is more concerned with attempting to sell the idea of a race, regarded largely by the griffon public as savages, living and providing service to the people than any real personal issue.
“I understand your concern. However, Sire, I have seen their proclivity for mining and farming. With the advice the pony has provided, they have taken that talent to impressive new heights.” He coughed into his hand, but Sigurd spotted the ghost of a smile there. “Before the attack, the idea of tracks and carts were being discussed at length." The reedy secretary drake bobbed his head. “I am in agreement with Lady Fairheart’s assessment that they will more than earn their keep.”
Sigurd hummed in thought at that, tapping his beak.
“If that is true, perhaps that can be expanded upon to include more than just iron ore.” The recent discovery of gold in the Foothills of Radius could be rapidly dug up with little danger to the lives of common griffs.
Sure, some worker guilds might feel slighted, but putting them to work on other projects that could be bought with that resource would more than salve a few twinged feathers, however.
“What is in the box?” Gabriella’s sudden question pulled him from his thoughts. Upon seeing the unwieldy backpack sitting so out of place with its plain features in an otherwise opulent sitting room, he had been confused. But his need to know his niece's situation had pushed that out of his mind at the time and his musings on the Diamond Dogs were now paramount.
“Ah, that leads to the second reason why I have come.” His old friend dragged the crate over and pointed at the crystal set within the top of the box.
Like the container itself, the gem was unremarkable save for the fact that it had been placed just so in the center of the lid.
“Orion Falls had a hand in preparing this for my journey. Within is the culmination of what we have learned of…the Duchess’s plans and involvement in shaping the future of our nation.” Placing a hand on the top, he paused and gave Sigurd a meaningful look. “It was lucky that the ponies who facilitated the attack left much of their correspondence and orders, along with what was found in Lotti Eagleheart’s own missives between her and…the Duchess.” He cast a sidelong glance at the Queen, but when she remained silent, he continued on. “Also, the orders were given to Drystan, her direct servant.”
Sigurd jerked up, eyes widening.
“What?!”
“I’m afraid I left out a few key details. Those are important; however, they are tied to another issue that must be discussed shortly. Please, your Majesty.” The King of Griffonia nodded. If Eberhard was being selective of his telling, there had to be a reason. A steady hand on his wife kept her from an outburst as well. Though, the sheer amount of bristle her feathers were doing to his bare chest was beginning to get uncomfortable.
“Why do you have orders for Drystan in this box?”
“That would be because he was also at the battle.” This time, he could not keep his beak from flopping open. He goggled at his friend, and his wife must have equally shared his shock because Eberhard chuckled. “Apparently, he was sent to keep the mercenaries in line and to keep them from capitalizing on any gains they might have found there.” Nodding, he frowned. “Also to also achieve the goals of his Mistress, which was the death of both your niece and her guest and the theft of the notebook the latter carried with them.”
Both rulers looked at each other, their aghast and incensed faces only spurring on the others’ outrage. Turning back, he gestured to his old friend to continue, not trusting himself to speak.
“Of course, as you are now no doubt aware, that has failed.” He broke open the crate with an audible click and removed the lid. Inside sat a bundle of heavy cloth soaked red at the bottom, and several bundles of leather were filled with parchment, and one was not. The smell of iron and copper filled the room.
“Is that..?” His bride asked hesitantly.
Rather than answer her, he lifted the blood-soaked bundle and unwrapped it to reveal the severed head of Drystan himself. A gasp ripped its way from her beak.
Sigurd stared, digust plastered on his beak. Gabriella was less so. She went from being aghast, to giggling.
“You managed to kill him?” She asked half scandalized and sounding very close to admiring the old drake.
“Ah, no. That accomplishment belongs to Master Falls himself.”
King Sigurd Bloodbeak found his eyes snapped to his old friend. Shock no longer claimed him. It was now outright disbelief as he stood. Nearly depositing his Queen on the floor.
“The PONY killed Drystan?!”
“From what I have been told, Orion Falls was left with little choice. It was either slaying his assassin or succumbing to his blade.”
Eberhard was getting nervous, though he did not yet struggle to hide it. He was getting dangerously close to the dilemma that had left him conflicted, though he knew his ultimate decision was the right course.
So far, his King had taken to the news as expected. Informing husband and wife of how the hated servant of Rosebreast had died had left both in equal parts stunned silence and raucous laughter.
“Done in by a fledgling!” Cackled his friend. “Skewered like a gordat on a spit!”
“Well, not without great cost, Sire.” He admonished gently.
“What do you mean, Master Lonelycall.” Gabriella must have noticed something in his face, for her mirth had faded away quickly, replaced by worry.
“A great sacrifice had been given in order for Orion to have the chance. Sergeant Gilda Broadwing sacrificed her life to provide an avenue of escape. Her attack had ripped open the scale mail he wore enough for the pony to spear him with that beam of wood.” He shrugged uncomfortably, remembering the Equestrian’s face as he wept over the soldier.
The old griffon had his own sorrows; if there had ever been a griffon he would have brought in as his apprentice, it would have been Gilda.
All parties in the lavish sitting room fell quiet. Losing troops was par for the course of monarchs the world over. Soldiers were expected to be able to give their lives for the security of the land and people at a moment's notice.
However, the young Sergeant's sacrifice was great, as she not only preserved a life but also achieved notoriety and honor in doing so.
“I…I shall have…” Sigurd stalled, and Eberhard understood. What could he do to pay homage to one such as her? She had no family, not even a husband. The hen had been devoted to her work and had done her duty tirelessly since the day the old drake had found her.
“Has she…been sent off?” Gabriella asked gently, her hand now squeezing her husband's.
“Yes,” Eber said sadly. “Orion himself helped send off all those that fell, but I think her death hit him the hardest. She had made it a personal request that he perform the Burning.”
Pyres burned brightly in the semi-dark of the coming night. Despite the soft downpour of rain, they remained undiminished. The magically induced fire did have its usage, he supposed.
All but one burned, the last and arguably the most important. Orion Falls, his black clothes soaked to his fur and skin, stood over the final altar. Gilda Broadwing's shrouded corpse lay among carefully placed bundles of wood; his face pained in a way he had never seen before.
Rage, sorrow, fear, and a profound look of loss warred for purchase there. One never lasting more than a moment before a new one shoved its way to the surface. The turmoil that must have been going through his mind was echoed in many others.
The hesitancy as the pony stood there was clear to everyone. More than a few looked to be sharing tears of their own as they looked on to the worn and tired pony that had nearly died doing the impossible for them.
It was Grace who had finally stepped forward and stood next to him. She did not appear to say anything, and all watched as the pony's shoulders silently shook. After a few more moments, his horn came to life again, and a single ball of flame erupted in the center of the pyre, sending Gilda Broadwing to soar once more.
“I suppose, now, I should tell you the final details.” By this time, he should be on a train and well on his way outside the kingdom if he planned it right. Eberhard schooled his face to absolute serenity. If he should be put to death for his choice, he would not only understand but accept it.
Sigurd and Gabriella looked at him quizzically. After shooting another quick glance at one another, the King nodded to his bride.
“Master Lonelycall.” She began. “There is something else you have not told us?”
“Yes, your Majesty.” His head bobbed in affirmation. “I feared that if I came out with this final piece of news first, all the other information I had for you would be overshadowed by the revelation.”
“My friend, I do not appreciate being manipulated.” Despite the years of friendship, Sigurd Bloodbeak was his King, and his duty was to inform him of everything. And while this might not be manipulation, it was close enough.
“No, Sire. Not a manipulation, but a need to have everything else in perspective so you did not make any rash decisions.” He replied.
“That sounds a lot like manipulation, Master Lonelycall.” Eberhard had to nod in concession.
“I suppose it was.”
“What is it?”
“Dorothea had indeed been correct in her assessment of Orion Falls. The pony is an enchanter.”
That little bit of news had a monumental effect on both rulers.
“He is what?!” The subdued hiss of words bellied Sigurd, bounding to his paws, fury exploding on his face.
Not to be outdone, Gabriella also stood, though the sudden appearance of the knife in her hand left Eberhard impressed. He had not seen where it had come from.
Raising both hands and keeping them there, he responded as calmly as he could.
“I never got direct confirmation, my Lord.” He placated, his master looming over him dangerously. “However, I am convinced the pony is indeed the one who repaired the Gate in Canterlot.”
“How do you know?” The Queen said through clenched beak.
“During the negotiations with the Iron Dogs' leader, Orion had been very insistent on having his jewelry returned to him. I noted that Barney Barker had a look of great reluctance in his sister's, Tilly Barker's, agreement with the pony.” He gestured with his hands, keeping them up. “After I had witnessed the results of the first casting of steel ingots, I remembered that observation.” In truth, he had never forgotten. It was the unfortunate case of priority that stalled him. The events of the negotiations and the reorganization of the town left him little time to pursue the issue further. “When I questioned him, he had stated that inside some of the items were gems and gold packed tightly away.”
“No…” Sigurd groaned, and Eberhard could only shrug.
When the first edict had gone out to kill every enchanter that hadn't yet vanished or ones that may come after, certain criteria had to be met in order for those unfortunate souls to become a target. Namely the items they may have created.
It was easy to tell the difference between the school of crystalmancy and the more complicated construction of enchanted objects; one need only see the steps involved. The understanding of those steps did not matter.
Crystalmancy required merely the gem and a spell. Both would need reworking when each deteriorated, and they always did.
Enchanting required a more robust and odd setup. It was believed that those builds, for lack of a better term, were important to not only the item's longevity but also the source in which the incantation imbued within pulled its power.
Every agent before him had been trained to look for these differences. The issue was that Orion's secretive nature left little opportunity for him to confirm before then.
“The book?” Gabrielle asked. While she wore anger, much like her husband, there was sorrow in her eyes. Sorrow for the pony? Hopefully.
“Unfortunately, no. That was lost when Orion Falls cleverly used it to burn Drystan when the drake attempted to take it from him. Apparently, since he had arrived in our nation, he had used crystalmancy to imbue a gem in the spine to explode if anyone other than him picked it up.” He suppressed a shudder, remembering he had picked up the book himself. He could have died that day.
However, the gem's slimness and the spell's nature required the pony to cast the spell every morning, so when he had picked it up, the gem had been fortunately uncharged.
“Clever,” Sigurd muttered. “He would rather lose all that information than be exposed.”
“I believe that to be the case, Sire. Though the one time I did possess the book, there was nothing in it I could find that would point him out.”
“And you did not kill him?” His King asked.
“No,” Eberhard answered simply.
“Why?” His Lord gestured with a hand for the secretary bird to drop his own.
“That…I'm afraid was the complication. My complication.” He rose and began pacing. Both leaders retook their seats, but Gabriella’s knife remained in her fist. “I hope you will forgive me, but I must detail my thoughts on this matter.”
“Take your time. Master Lonelycall.” Sigurd’s use of the title hurt, but it had not been unexpected.
“Thank you, Sire.” He said glumly. “When I first learned the truth of Orion Falls’s nature. I had been sent into a mental spiral. I knew my duty, as do all agents of Griffonia, but the pony's closeness with Grace Fairheart complicated things. She does not know the reason in which enchanters are put to death upon discovery. My attempt at ending him would have likely put me in direct opposition to her Ladyship.”
The Queen's grip on the hilt lessened, and she nodded consideringly at that.
“There was also the fact that the pony had done so much good for Aviary and our nation as a whole.” He coughed. “Already, Iron Dogs and Griffon are rebuilding with the memorized knowledge given. More fortunately, the Forges and the notes within were left untouched.”
“That's one good bit of news,” Gabrielle said not too harshly. “But stop stalling, Master Lonelycall. Why did you not kill him?”
“By the time of their return, I had resolved to end that young pony's life. Finding the time to inform her Ladyship of the why and how had become an issue.”
“The attack?”
“Yes, but also the sheer number of griffons who wanted her attention. I had not found an appropriate time to interject myself. When the attack came, I was in the middle of attempting to ask her to come outside so that I could explain the situation.”
“Would she have allowed it?” Gabrielle asked.
“That, your Majesty, was one of my fears. Ultimately, she had all authority in place of your leadership, and I would have found it difficult to go against her wishes.” He shrugged apologetically. “It was one of the few reservations I held.”
“Including, I'm assuming, whether it was the right choice or not,” Sigurd spoke, his eyes on the floor.
“Yes, unfortunately, I was still mentally wrestling with that as well.” He sighed. “But when the attack came, Orion Falls railed. Creating a solution to combat the bombardment of the unicorns brilliantly.” He shook his head. “I saw my opportunity when Drystan’s surprise assault separated Orion from Her Ladyship.”
“Yet, you did not take it.”
“No. I stood above him, my knife ready.” Miming the action, his hands seemed to mimic the hesitation all on their own. “I…could have easily blamed it on a final assassin. No one would have been the wiser.” He shook his head, his fingers fidgeting with the lapels of the robe he wore. “What I witnessed turned my heart away from what that would have been. Murder.”
Both monarchs once again regarded one another; a silent conversation in looks alone seemed to carry on. Finally, his King turned to him.
“What happened, Eber?” The change to such a familiar name caused a pang of relief in Eberhard. He had accepted death but was not eager for it.
“I witnessed a pony doing everything possible that he could do to save the life of a griffon. I…I am not sure if all unicorns can do it, but Orion seems to possess the ability to cast magic with not only his horn but his hands as well.” Both ruler's eyes widened at that. “Orion Falls, his horn smoking as much as the aura glowed, tried desperately to stitch Gilda Broadwing back together. The fact that he managed to bring her back to consciousness at all was a miracle in itself. Yet…” He paused, mouth open, trying to find the words. It seemed he had yet to fully deal with this pain. Gilda had become something of a daughter to him, and he felt her loss more keenly than he wanted to admit.
“There was nothing to be done.” Gabrielle finished gently.
“Yes.” Swallowing hard, he wiped unshed tears away. “He had often made the claim that his ability to heal was limited to a paper cut at best, bruises at worst.” He chuckled sadly. “That seems to be true.” Blinking back more tears, he went on. “In any case. His display of sacrifice, even to the point of damaging his own ability to use magic himself, altered my hand.” Looking up at his friend, his ruler, he sighed. “I could not do it, Sigurd. I could not kill someone who had risked so much for our people simply for the sake of setting things as he believed, right.”
With his piece said, he waited as those above him debated his actions. The idea of sitting now, awaiting judgment, was silly to him. Instead, he chose to straighten the borrowed robe as best he could, raising his head not in defiance but in respect for his liege.
Gabrielle Fairheart was the first to speak.
“I find it difficult…to dismiss your reasoning, Eberhard.” His eyes widened at the use of his first name. The fact that she had used it, well, it had never been done before. She snorted. “Master Lonelycall, my issue with you has always been because of your unyielding application of the rules. You were never one to deviate from what had been set down in stone for you.” She smirked. “That friction sprouted because our interests clashed, and you left me little room to maneuver or negotiate. To see you so…flagrantly defy your rules is a surprise.” The smirk turned into a broad smile. “A welcome one, to be sure.”
That was true. For all of Eberhard’s friendly demeanor, he had never diverged from his goals or the rules that marked them. He nodded, not yet saying anything.
Her statement said more. The surprise was one she happily found, even if her quickly returning brooding features did not yet show it.
“I'm uncomfortable with the fact we just allowed this pony to walk away untouched,” Sigurd spoke softly.
“I agree, my Kindling.” Gabrielle laid a hand on her husband's arm, squeezing gently. “These events, and what we know now, have me feeling like the net under me is about to give way.”
“Yet you agree?” He asked incredulously.
“I do. Master Lonelycall has made a very difficult, possibly nation-changing decision. Yet…” She paused, eyes going distant. “I…I find myself making the same choice had I been the one in the field. Despite what he is, maybe even because of who he is, that pony deserves life.”
The Sigurd didn't speak for a long moment. Neither his wife nor Eberhard spoke as he contemplated the news.
“I, too, find it…difficult,” he paused, shaking his head. “Over a thousand years that Edict has been in place by all nations that listened. Many had fallen at that time, but the need still stood. Enchanters are too dangerous. They can create devices that no one has ever seen or really understood.” He continued to shake his head as he spoke. Standing, the King walked to the large bay windows that looked out over the east side of his city.
Gabrielle gave her husband a wry look and addressed his back.
“No one has ever seen one of these feared devices, Kindling. For all we know, we have been continuing the tradition for its own sake.”
“Fire.” He said gently. “I agree that neither I nor my ancestors, a thousand years since, have seen those…machines.” Such a common word sounded so alien to Eberhard’s ears. “But, the records described a fleet of airships so beyond what currently dots the skies, in such detail, that I am reluctant to let this go.”
Eberhard Lonelycall nodded. He had seen the records of that time as well. The power those vessels had wielded was truly frightening, raining destruction from on high. According to those scrolls, the ships were known to be older than even the founding nations that had once made up Griffonia. Older than even the griffon people themselves.
Such longevity, such destructive force. It was hard to imagine, but the one constant in those very same reports was that without the knowledge of enchanters, they could not stay afloat for long. Hence, some time after the mages who maintained the equipment disappeared, Celestia had the fleet put into storage. Were they still capable of flight after all this time?
“If I may make a suggestion?” Gabrielle’s voice broke the silence that had enveloped them.
Turning, Sigurd regarded his wife suspiciously. “You may.”
“I propose we implement the same plan we used to find our niece. With some modifications, of course.”
He turned from his wife and warily assessed Eberhard before looking back at her. “What “modifications” are you suggesting?”
The train ride out of Griffonia had been uneventful. Grapple, a subdued village that seemed to only get by because of the tracks that ran through it and the business they brought, had not even stirred before he boarded for the long trek home.
The few workers on the platform paid them little mind as Grace bid him a tearful farewell, squeezing him so hard his eyeballs nearly popped out of his skull.
It was a similar goodbye that Aspen had given him, though her's came with a lick that stuck all the fur on the side of his face and mane straight up. It was very comical and managed to pull a chuckle from the downtrodden pony.
Barney had decided to give him a gift as well; fortunately, it wasn't a tongue bath.
Two pieces of Anthracite were placed in his hands. The shiny black material had a faint sheen of green when the sun struck it. That was a gift worth more than he could ever pay, and he had attempted to give it back.
Tilly had exclaimed loudly and proudly that he had earned it, all while sitting on her newly made wheelchair that he had a hand building before their departure.
A pang of guilt shot through him when he spied her permanent seating. From what the field docs, including his own scans, had said, she would never walk again. One of the fireballs that hit the ground sent out a shockwave that had thrown the tiny Dog right into a pile of large boulders that had been set aside to be broken down for foundations laying later. Her brother had found her shortly after and carried her into the tunnels below.
Another pin is on his All My Fault list. Still, he hoped they were all wrong.
Grace had not prolonged their farewells after the hug. Opting to give him a new leather-bound notebook and a kiss on his cheek in the fashion of griffons. Her beak rubbed tenderly and likely lingered longer than normal.
Then she turned and marched proudly off, her head held high and shoulders thrown back. The soldiers who had come with her fell into line after they gave him a quick bow.
That action paused the workers as they observed the odd parting and began whispering to one another.
Thorncrest gave him a bow. Clapping him on the shoulder, he placed the weapon firmly in his hands and nodded. Then, he followed after his liege swiftly.
From what she told him, she would be returning to Neighbon for the time being. With Drystan’s attack now over and done with, it was suggested she keep low and not say much till whatever Eberhard was planning came to fruition.
The people of Aviary, including the Iron Dogs, readily agreed to keep quiet as well.
They were all in once it was understood what might happen should word get out. They wanted that bitch to pay just as much as Grace Fairheart did, and eagerly set to working hard to rebuild their home from the devastation wrought by the unicorns’ attack.
With the supplies he had procured through Dorothea Von Hardwind it would get them through this rough patch. Enough of the crops had been salvaged that they would hopefully be able to plant for next year with little trouble.
Shockingly, the potato fields had gone completely untouched through the whole battle. But, considering the fact that they were placed on the other side of the warren, away from the fighting, perhaps not so stunning a surprise. Still a boon either way, and he really hoped they liked taters. Perhaps he should have written down some recipes for them.
As for the enemy unicorns that had attacked Aviary, only half-eaten bodies, or stoned corpses, remained, it took two days to collect them all and burn their remains unceremoniously.
A tiny needle of fear still sat in his heart. One or more might have managed to get away.
He could see Canterlot Mountain in the distance now. The towering snowy peak still shielded the city of its namesake from view, but seeing it through the window of the cab already meant he would have to face comeuppance when he arrived home.
He thumped his head against the wooden wall of his seat, earning him a startled look from an older mare dressed in traveler's clothes sitting across from him on the other side of the aisle.
“Man, I really don't want to go back there.” It wasn't the orphanage, with its revolving door of foals and prospective parents just hoping to find the right kid to nurture. Nor was it CSGU, mostly because the snobby brats he had once dealt with had wisely left him alone since the Veranda Incident . The only one at school that really bothered him was the gray filly whose name still escaped him. “Is it Daisy? No…Lazy? Yeah…Lazy something or other.” That one gave him the willies, and he avoided her like the plague.
No, it was really none of that. It was Celestia herself that worried him. Now that all the excitement was over with, the reality was setting in, and that said reality was that she likely already knew he had taken off and was pissed about it.
Any altercation between the pair was bound to descend into a shouting match, and he just didn't see the appeal in arguing with someone who could potentially go nova.
Not to mention, his own mind has taken a greater toil than he had ever experienced before. Save for perhaps his last days as a human.
“And there's no way out of this shit…” His head thumped into the wood board again.
All that was available to him was to return back to the orphanage and await her summons.
“Wait…” His lips quirked into a smile. “Yeah, perhaps?” He muttered out loud, drawing a look of irritation from the mare.
Ignoring her, he fished out some paper and an envelope and began writing feverishly. The smile turned into a grin as he looked the pony across from him over briefly.
“Oh yeah, she'll do.”
“Princess?” A careful knock on her study door drew her, thankfully, from a proposed tax system from the nobles in Parliament. There was more red ink from her hand on the parchment than black from their own original writing. How could they not understand that, to this day, that the tax hike they were proposing would break the middle-class pony near completely? It was ridiculous.
“Yes, Raven?” The mare stepped in, adjusting her latest business suit she wore, a navy blue with silver pinstripes, and placed a letter on the table before her.
Her secretary on duty today had become increasingly reliable in the past few years, and Celestia was strongly considering putting her at the forefront of her staff. A position that would be perfect for her analytical and organized mind.
Looking down at the letter, she noticed the distinctive handwriting with her name spelled boldly upon the sleeve.
“So.” She began her testiness with the paperwork in front of her, adding to her extreme irritation with the pony this missive was no doubt from. “He has returned.”
Without Shining Armor, it would seem. If the stallion had been with him, he would have dragged the colt kicking and screaming before her rather than have Orion’s poor address posted on the sleeve.
“Not exactly, your Highness,” Raven said matter of fact, placing one finger on the envelope and pushing it forward. “No pony has seen him yet, and a mare, one Willow Joy, brought this to the gates. He apparently paid her twenty bits to deliver the message.” She smiled thinly. “Gold bits, to be exact.”
“Gold?” Her eyebrows raised slightly. Bits came in three denominations. Copper, Silver, and, of course, Gold. It had been done like this so Equestrian coin would be accepted worldwide, as the exchange rate would only depend on weight rather than any pricing difference a Lady or Lord could impose. It made it very hard for her little ponies to be jilted should they need to pay for something out of the country.
“The same,” she thought, with an internal wicked grin, can not be said for other nations.”
“That is pricey.” She said noncommittally after a moment. Her secretary merely murmured her agreement.
Seeing no point in delaying whatever nonsense he had cooked up now, she split the envelope apart with a small application of magic and read.
“Dear Sun in the Sky,
“Yes, it is I, your favorite pony in all the land.”
She paused and snorted derisively. He couldn't be serious; even now, with his outrageous departure, he could not be serious for even a moment. Her eyes continued their journey across the page, a sarcastic smirk pulling at her lips.
“By now, you have likely learned I've been away for some time. Vacation: everyone needs one. Including you might I add, you should get out some.
“Anyway, if you're reading this and have not known the above statement. Well, surprise! I was gone!”
She placed the page down and stared straight ahead. The beginnings of a headache thumping at her temples.
“Your Highness?” Raven asked, concerned.
“Orion is being very…Orion.” That drew an amused chuckle from the normally serious mare. Celestia sighed long-sufferingly before returning to what was clearly becoming the longest excuse letter in history.
“But let's be honest, you already know. Okay, so here's the deal. I am in Equestria. Hurray. But I'm not really feeling like coming back to the city. It's not you, Princess, it's me. I need some more time away. At least a couple of days. With that in mind, I will inform you that I am heading to Ponyville. I picked up some souvenirs for a couple of friends down there, and I figured I'd just pop in and hand them over and spend some time with them, seeing how I've been out sightseeing all this time up in the great north.”
Taking another deep breath, she calmed herself. At least he was being forthcoming about his intentions this time, but did he really believe that she would allow him to remain away?
Apparently, yes, he did.
“I figure I got a fifty-fifty shot here. Either you let me come back on my own, or you send the guard to come scoop my happy ass up. Either way, I should have just enough time to give my friends their gifts before I'm pounced on by over-enthusiastic soldiers looking to get a bump for their promotion.
“So here is the big ask. I know you're likely as pissed as you can be. The term “Super Pissed” might be employed here. But what's another couple of days? I promise I am coming back. Just need a couple of more days to unwind before you smack me.
“Hope this letter finds you before you do me,
Orion”
Placing the letter down, she laid her head very slowly onto her desk and groaned.
“Shall I fetch the guard to hunt him down?” Raven asked. Celestia could hear the grim hopefulness in her tone.
The monarch thought long and hard about that. She should have him apprehended. But, despite his maturity in many things, he was but a foal.
“No.” She rebutted, dragging the word out a bit as she very carefully did not bang her head against the mahogany beneath her. “Damn it, no. He is in Equestria now. But it seems he skipped the Canterlonian stop and proceeded down to Ponyville.”
“Forgive me, your Highness. I do not understand. He is here. Why not order his immediate return to the city?”
“Because Orion Falls made a promise.” The ancient alicorn sat up and glanced over the page again. “When he makes a promise, he tends to keep it.” Placing the letter down, she addressed her secretary. “He will return in a few days. I'm betting a week if I know him and how he likes to stretch the limits of the letter. Have everything ready by then. If he returns early, still wait the full week before sending his summons.”
“I understand, your Highness. It shall be as you command.” Celestia smiled at that and gave a gracious nod.
She did like it when her staff took her words as literal orders meant to be carried out at a moment's notice. One of the few perks of the job is being waited on hand and hoof for her demands to be met with swift ease.
“Thank you, Raven. Is there anything else?”
“No, your Highness.” She paused and looked at the tax code before her. “Though, if it is allowed, I think I can guess the nature of those marks,” she gestured to the red ink, “and can extract the spirit of your arguments. Would you allow me to handle that?”
High Princess Celestia turned and looked upon her secretary in relief.
“Would you?”
“Of course, your Highness. Also, I'll have some tea brought up for you.”
The mare was definitely getting that promotion whether she wanted it or not.
Unfortunately, the Sun Monarch was not about to get away from all the paperwork. As Raven left with the disastrous tax bill, she looked at Griffonia's report with wariness. It looked rather slim.
“I would kill to know what happened to trigger a relic site to awaken.”
Everbloom dunked her head into the clear stream of water and drank greedily.
She had been running for what felt like days now and had not stopped for more than a few hours to get some rest.
Ripping herself away from the stream, she gasped and stumbled back before settling against a tree. Her breath labored as she tried to organize her thoughts.
“Three…no…five days.” The mare's eyes widened at the realization. She had been on the move since nearly joining her comrades in the belly of the beast. “A bucking Basilisk.” She moaned. “How under the Sun's Grace did they have a Basilisk just…on hand like that?!”
This line of questioning had plagued her since she had seen the thing.
When it dove toward her, she barely had time to shove her lieutenant in the way and run as the sound of her soldiers’ screams and the crunch of bone and stone filled her ears.
That was all she could do. Run.
Every time she stopped for but a moment, the noise, those sounds, would fill her head, and she would push on to move again. A stumbling, shambling jog that could be counted as little more than a speed walk by most pony standards.
Yet, on she pushed, moving further and further south.
“I passed a mountain range…yes?” She couldn't remember. Those sounds were returning. Making it difficult for her to collect her thoughts.
“Ti-time to go.” She muttered, trying to push herself up. Her left arm moved to brace against the trunk, and she bit back a moan.
Everbloom turned her arm towards her, noticing with renewed anguish that the shoulder and not much else remained. The limb was mostly stone now, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that if it had not been, she might have bled out.
However, the forefront of her mind made her wail into the early afternoon. She clutched at it with her hand and cried anew for the loss of her arm.
“What pony is gonna want me now!”
Perhaps crying out was the right thing to do. She needed release. Needed to grieve. She had lost everything. Her command. Her soldiers. The arm was just the icing on top of a very rotted cake.
“He….hello?” A voice broke through her sobbing. Eyes widening, she glanced around, fear etching her features in what she was sure would be a permanent mask.
“Who…..w-whose there?!” Embracing what little magic she had left, she braced herself and slowly slid up the tree, the rough bark tearing at already threadbare clothes.
“Honey!” Came the voice again, a mare from the sound of it. “Over here! She sounds hurt!”
Over the hill line that sat on the other side of the stream Everbloom had taken rest at came an Earthpony mare.
The tall bronze-collared pony clad in travel clothes with a wavy yellow mane took one look at her and shrieked. “Violet! Mover yer keister, girl! She's hurt real bad!”
Another mare quickly followed the other, a Pegasi, mirroring her partner in clothing. The purple pony quickly hopped the creek and rushed to her side.
“By the tree, this is bad, Dew! She's missing an arm!”
Everbloom heard it all, the Earthpony coming to the side to begin stripping her clothes off, telling her it would be okay as they both exclaimed over the state of her missing limb. She felt them wrap her body, the cuts that she had received on her flight from terror, with cloth. Antiseptic splashing here and there in an attempt to combat the possible infections in her wounds.
She heard and saw it all.
Yet, she might as well have been a thousand leagues away.
“I'm…home…”
Tears streamed down her cheeks in an ever-increasing flood as two kindly mares took care of her wounds.
Author's Note
You: Wait, what is this?
Me: A chapter.
You: Why?
Me: Because I had it written and edited..?
You: Don't you get smart with us! You said you had no more for us! And this came out on a...Tuesday!?
Me: Well...I just thought...maybe...a little reward for all your patience would be nice...
You: Oh...um...thank you.
Me: OH, YOU'RE WELCOME!!
Heh, I thought a little bonus chapter was in order considering how much I put you guys through. So here it is, was meant to go for the next Arc, but I thought everyone needed a happy end. Or at least as much as I could give you considering the darkness of the last few chapters.
Hope you enjoy!
Peace!
Therapy Through Labor
The scent of apples practically assaulted Orion's nose the moment he paused on the road heading towards the vast orchard fields of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Man, they really ripen that fast?” He mused as he took a deep breath and sighed heavily.
His first stop, at Rarity’s gigantic home, had been a bust. The filly, no, the mare now, as both she and Applejack had graduated this year, had been out, and no one had answered the door. So he has no clue where she has gone.
So, with a scuff of his hoof, he set off for the Apple Family farm instead, hoping to unload at least a portion of the curios that had been with him for the past week. The pack had become quite heavy during his shopping spree in the Neighbonese market, and he now regretted not stopping off at the orphanage to unload a few things to make life easier.
He chuckled. “Odds are she really did already know and likely has the guards on order to snatch my ass the moment I stepped one hoof off that fucking train.” There would be no way he would have gotten back to Mrs. Evergarden’s.
Gazing about the property, his eyes swept over the familiar site of the farmhouse, fields, and barn with a newly attached chicken coup. Winona's shed seemed to have lost the fencing entirely; instead, there now appeared to be a rudimentary forge in its place. The sight of it knotted his stomach in uncomfortable ways.
“Gilda…”
With a shake of his head, he pushed that line of thought away and looked toward the orchards, intent on finding something to move the memories away. Preferably a sun-kissed orange pony busting her ass somewhere in the field.
A new section of saplings looked recently planted off to the west on a hill that butted up against the more tame White Tail Woods. That was good, as the last time he was here, Granny had complained about Timberwolves tearing up the bark on some of the bordering Zap something or other.
This was right before he had his own encounter with said beasts, which ended with him miraculously keeping his hide intact and a burnt wooden corpse practically on top of him.
“Really not a good idea to remember that disaster, is it?”
The newly planted trees were already waist high, though that should be expected of anything planted and produced by these crazy horses. As his grandmother was often prone to saying: “Some folks can just grow corn in a quarry.”
“How in the hell do they get them to grow that fast?” He mused as his hooves trod upon the slightly uneven dirt road. He noted with distaste that the shoe on his left hoof wasn't settling properly when he stepped. “Think I'm overdue for a hooficure.”
The black pony snorted at that. The idea of actually needing to trim and shape the entire hoof just to walk properly would never not be weird to him.
“I miss my feet.”
He missed a lot of things from his life before. Cars, even if the junker he drove was more rusty than a motor vehicle, were faster than the slow gait he was stuck with now.
“Then there's the Internet…” Another convenience just stripped away with a single bad choice. “Not that I had much of a choice to begin with. Agent Man gets what Agent Man wants.”
Many other small and useful things flitted through his head as he rounded the wooden fencing to begin the trek up to the Apples’ homestead.
Orion knew why he was ruminating on the past. The events in Griffonia had spurred within him memories of mistakes long since left behind. The what-if monster again reared its head to haunt him with hindsight and guilt. Worse now, considering the cost of him trying to help the folks up in that village.
The people of Aviary were practically displaced at this point. Their homes, rubble, and crops burned to ash. All that effort for near nothing.
“Well, not nothing; the forges and the mines survived.” He nodded at that. Not just industry had managed to make it through, much to the good fortune of the people of that little village.
Another miracle was that the granary and underground storage units had remained largely untouched. One or two may have collapsed, but overall, the town had food, and the Iron Dogs were already working hard to help rebuild what had been lost.
He snorted with amusement as he avoided a pothole in the ground.
Barney's mad scheme of using the Basilisk to attack the unicorn army was a sheer stroke of genius, and he had to hand it to the mut on coming up with the idea.
Though doing the deed himself, that was balls even Orion wasn't sure he possessed.
His time in this world had certainly brought him face-to-face with courage. Something he had lacked in his previous life.
“What if I'd have just said no?” He would have likely been dead, but the answer was an easy one.
He would have received a bullet to the head, and some other poor S.O.B. would have been stuck with his lot. Some other asshole would have been thrust into a world not his own by what had to be chance and circumstance at best.
Then, there was the trial after everything was said and done. That whole mess had stripped him of his rights and placed him on the fast track to an execution. An execution that was halted and subbed for another poor sucker because he just happened to have the “right biometrics”.
It all seemed like a set of dominos had been placed against one another, one tap, and it all fell in the inevitable direction that landed his unhappy ass into this strange world of talking, upright walking, magic-filled animals.
And he felt like those black tiles were still falling. Though the purpose now? He couldn't even begin to guess.
“Where are they taking me? Where am I going? What am I supposed to do?”
He wasn't stupid enough to think he didn't have a degree of control over his fate. No, the choices he had made, while seeming solid and correct at that point, seemed to push him into the limelight more and more.
He never wanted to know Celestia. Nor did he ever want her to see of him.
He did not want the public to be aware of him. He had meant for a quiet existence, to pass unnoticed by all until he was ready to make his mark on this weird world. He could easily plagiarize many low-tech inventions of his species the moment he had some capital to fund production.
Bonus? The ideas he had would help people. Give them a better life, even if only in increments.
“To give others a better life?” When had he changed so much? Long before this second chance, he had been a selfish, stuck-up asshole that had very little moral stability. “I mean, my parents hadn't given a…” He shook his head, pushing away that line of thinking as well. Best not to go down that route ever again. It didn't matter and didn't help his situation. It would only make it worse.
His eyes widened as he paused, mere feet from the home's private fence.
“That's it. I've…I've let go of all that. Haven't I?”
The how still eluded him. Even with the readily available hindsight he now had, he just couldn't see how it had happened to him.
But now, his actions and experiences have brought on an entirely new level of crazy for him.
“My life, it seems, has a lightning rod built for chaos jammed right into the center. Fuck me.”
And, by all evidence he could see, it wasn't just centered on him. Everyone around him suffered or benefited from it in some fashion or another. “Though the cons have certainly outweighed the pros in recent months.”
His heart ached suddenly.
“Gilda…” He sniffed and scowled. “No, you stupid fucker! You will not be crying. We've done that, it's over with.”
The griffon's death weighed so heavily on his shoulders that he often wondered how he wasn't crushed under its sheer mass.
The truth was, he blamed himself for Gilda Broadwing’s painful and long-suffering end. The stout hen had been forced to stay glued to him the entire night when not pulled away in an emergency assignment.
His actions had placed her squarely on the path toward death the moment he started showing the townsfolk how to make better use of their plots of land. How to mine, and craft a resource that could bring a certain end to their dwindling economy.
The pounding of hooves on the grass mercifully broke him from his ever-darkening thoughts.
Little hooves by the sound of it. He lowered his gaze and spotted a little red bow bobbing and weaving through tall, slightly yellowed grass to his left. Giggling could be heard coming from the mystery ribbon.
“Who the fuck is…”
The Ribbon burst from the brush and revealed itself attached to a little yellow filly in a simple pair of overalls and a white shirt now stained green. The little girl came to an almost comical halt as she skidded to a stop right in front of him.
Big orange eyes stared up at him in curiosity.
Orion looked down at this tiny little pony, thinking hard on who she might be.
“Appleflower? Apple…nugget? No, those aren't right…Apple-”
“BLOOM!” A very familiar voice bellowed out with all the strength that an irritated sibling could muster. “I swear, when I git my hands on you, mama gonna make you unable to sit down fer a week!”
A small grin worked its way across his face as the filly before him gave a startled yelp and tried to scuttle away back into the tall grass.
She tried, but Orion’s magic had a firm hold around her waist as he waited for the big sister to arrive. A fact that she quickly realized, much to his surprise, for she glared balefully at him from her slightly hovered form above the ground.
“Sorry, kid. Gotta face the music sometimes.” He chuckled, which only darkened the little foal's countenance. “She couldn't be much older than what? Two?”
The grin only grew wider as Applejack burst from around the house, her hooves pounding away only to skid, much like her little sister, to a stop before him. Her mouth dropped open.
“Orion?” She asked slowly, wonderingly.
“Naw. I'm Billy Idol, famous singer. This yours?” He levitated poor Applebloom up to eye level with the mare. That didn't get much of a reaction, as she simply stared at him. Much to the kid's outrage, he shook the filly, and she bared her teeth at him. “Have you been keeping this one in the barn? She's kinda feral…”
He had seen it coming a mile away. The moment the lips quivered into a smile, the mare before him launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground. Thankfully, they managed to fall on the grass rather than the hard-packed dirt trail.
Through it all, he maintained a firm magical grip on the little filly, who was now looking at the pair of them oddly as she dangled a few feet off the ground.
“‘rion, ya big dumb galoot! Where ya been!? I done did send a couple of letters. Ya never did answer ‘em!” her words came out of a rush, and he chuckled a little as he pried her off of himself.
“Been out of town for a couple of months. I didn't exactly leave a forwarding address. Did your accent get worse?” He laughed as her face quickly screwed up in consternation at his statement.
“I talk jest fine, ‘Rion!” She smacked him. The blow took him by surprise. The sting in his chest from where she hit hurt far more than he had anticipated.
“Okay, ow. The hell, Applebottom! What in the f-” Her hand, surprisingly soft, if a bit callous, wrapped around his snout none too gently.
“No cussin’ around, little Applebloom.” She said sternly, her green eyes boring into his own gray.
“Ah hrap”, he mumbled around her digits. Pushing her hand away, he gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Applejack, I've not been around kids too much lately. Forgot what it was like to curb my tongue.”
“Jest don't you ferget.” Pausing, she eyed him up and down. “Did ya get taller? It's like ya growin’ like a weed.” She looked down, and her eyes widened.
Orion couldn't help but grin.
“Talk about me being a bad example. What about you?” There they sat, kid sister floating in the air, watching curiously as her older sister straddled the colt she had just recently tackled to the ground. Blushing furiously, Applejack leaped off him and stood as prim and proper as she could.
He couldn't help but laugh at her as he stood up and dusted himself off.
“Scandalous.” He chuckled.
“Ya shut up now.” She stated firmly as she adjusted her top. A top that he noticed exposed a fair bit of her toned stomach. Taking stock of his friend, he saw quite a few things that were far and away different than when he had last seen her.
For one thing, she was nearly as tall as him, which was an accomplishment in itself. Her once free-flowing mane had become long and done up in a loose ponytail braid that cascaded down her right shoulder in shades of yellow and champagne.
Gone were the overalls that seemed to have been a permanent fixture of the country pony. In their places was a pair of somewhat modest daisy dukes. He couldn’t see much of her tail from his current position, but like the mane on her head, it was also given a loose braid.
The flannel shirt remained, though now it had been roiled up and knotted to one side, exposing her entire stomach to the world.
“Wut?” She asked, eyes narrowing at his scrutiny.
“Nothing…just…hmm, ah. New look?” Hey gestured at her. “Didn't think Ma Pear would let ya outta the house like this.”
Primly, in a much too similar way to what Rarity might have done, she lifted her snout at him.
“I'ma grown mare, ‘Rion. I ken dress how I like.” She fidgeted with her shorts a bit, suddenly self-conscious in front of him. “Does it look…good?”
It was nearly like looking at the pony version of Grace. She was all hard muscle and gentle curves, though the hen carried the bigger chest. Applejack made up for it with her wider hips.
“Uh, yeah.” He nodded, suddenly nervous himself. “You…ah. Look just fine.”
“What are they feeding their children?!”
The farm mare smiled demurely and cast her gaze down.
“Ah, crap. I can't deal with this again.”
Applebloom’s struggles renewed, much to his joy at having a distraction, and she frantically spun her arms and legs, trying to free herself.
AJ and he looked at her, and the elder sister was the first to laugh. “Hay, she looks so mad she could bite iron and make nails.” Orion’s own chuckles joined her.
“So what,” he snorted, “what had you chasing her little…tail? Yeah, that, all over the yard?”
“Bath time. She don't wanna go.” She fixed her little sister with a baleful glare. “Been chasin’ her for a good half-hour ‘efor you showed up.”
“Yep, that accent you got definitely got worse.” He smiled. “What is she? Two?
“Just over one now. Mama had her in the spring jest last year, after all. May, actually.” She slugged him in the arm. “And I talk jest fine.”
Rubbing his arm, he otherwise ignored her. “Spring? That's a bit late, isn't it?” He did the mental math for a moment. “How on God's green earth did your mom get knocked up in June?”
“‘rion, language.” She admonished. “Sometimes mares jest do that. No rhyme or reason to it.” She shrugged, offering no more to the topic.
“Huh.” Was his intelligent reply.
“So, not that I'm not awful happy to see ya. But what brings ya out and down our way?” She plucked the squirming Applebloom out of the air and out of his magical grasp and gestured for him to follow her inside.
Sitting at the table with a plate of two slices of apple pie in front of him, he regaled the Apple Family with carefully edited versions of his vacation in Griffonia.
“Sounds like Rarity would have enjoyed that there fancy srowey.” Pear Butter said, reaching over to pick up her husband's plate. The stallion had devoured his half of a pie like he was breathing.
Orion winced at her terrible pronunciation of soiree but nodded in good nature. “Yeah, more than likely.”
“I still can't believe ya know royalty,” Granny grumbled, giving him the side eye.
“Come to think of it, her and AJ haven't really been laughing too much. What gives?”
It had been like that all through dinner. While the whole family had been laughing and giving him good-natured ribbing at his social faux pas, those two eyed him critically. As if they knew a good deal of what he was saying was altered truths.
The way their mouths would thin gave a good indication that at least those two weren't buying his Arizonian swamp land.
“Yeah. Me either.” He nodded. “But then again, I somehow know Celestia, and now some love-struck puppy named Roderick in Neighbon. He's like…the head of the merchant council’s eldest son, I think.” Honestly, he didn't quite remember. “Guy was such a pain in the…uh…yeah.” He stumbled, AJ glaring daggers at him.
“Look at yew, making friends in high places!” Pear said proudly. Giving him something that raised the hair on the back of his neck up.
Appraisal.
“Oh…shit.” First Grace, and now AJ and her mom.
“What I’d like ta know is why ya went up there to begin with.” Bright Mac had taken a largely passive role in the questioning, leaving most of the work to his wife, daughter, and mother. Big Mac just stared on in stoic silence at him.
“She had been inviting me up for years. With nothing to do, I figured, why not? And hopped on a train northward.” He replied back.
Pear’s appraising gays narrowed a bit. “Why she want ya up there so bad?”
“I…uh…” He hesitated.
“‘rion.” Applejack didn't even need to ask a question.
“Ah, shit.” He mumbled, thankful that little Applebloom had already been washed, dressed, and put down for bed. The Apples did not care for swearing, but as long as the little filly was not around, they didn't see the point in constantly correcting him.
“Now, see here, young colt. Ya gone been given a question. Answer it, ya hear?” Granny chimed in.
Orion looked to Bright and Big Mac, both of which took on an amused look and kept their lips firmly closed.
“No help, you two are.” He muttered sourly.
“‘rion!”
“Fine! She wanted to marry me. Ya, happy?” He spat. Annoyed at being backed into a corner like this.
Applejack sat stunned, her half-eaten pie forgotten. Her mother didn't fare any better.
Granny Smith was the only one of the three to nod.
“I thought as much.” Both daughter and granddaughter spun to stare at her. “Wut. He's a ‘andsome young stallion, and no mare, hen, wutever, would pass up on that.” She chuckled. “She tried ta woo him.” Turning away from her kin, she gave him, well, he wasn't too sure what the look was, but smug was definitely a part of it. “I take it, 'cause yer here and all, ya said no.”
“Yeah, no way in hell I was going to sign up for a lifetime of nobility. No, thank you.”
“But she has all that money,” AJ whispered.
“Mmmhmm, and all the problems that go with it.”
Pear dried off the last dish, and placed in the wire rack near the sink. Dinner had been good. The company had been better. Mostly.
She couldn't help but notice that her daughter and her mother-in-law had been more prickly with their questions than they had the right to be. Certain parts of Orion's tale had gotten more scrutiny than she thought was appropriate.
But then again…
She paused, placing the towel down on the counter.
“Now that I think of it. His story did get a little thin ‘round time he started wandering the countryside with that noble.” Pear Butter paced around the table, her hands subconsciously straightening chairs and the cloth itself as she mulled over what he had said.
Right up to Neighbon he spoke of meeting villagers but did not give enough details about what all he did there. Some of the names of towns sounded made up. But it was Griffon society; what did she know?
“It's all so confusin’.” She muttered.
“I's thinkin’ the same thing,” Granny said from behind her, startling the poor mare. “I swear, ya always were jumpier than a spider on a tin roof.”
“Granny, ya can't jest go an sneak up on a pony like that.”
“Not muh fault ya not payin’ attention.” She laughed at her. “Ya noticed it too, then? Colt was lying about sum parts.”
Hand to her chest, Pear nodded to the elder mare. Her glare washed off the other like rain on a stone.
“Yes. I don't think Orion was all that truthful.” She jabbed a finger at her mother-in-law. “But that didn't mean ya had ta go an’ grill him like that.”
“I know.” Granny groused. “But I don't like lyin’ or ponies much who do.” Shaking her head, the old mare pulled out a chair, sat down, and gestured for her to do the same. “That bein’ said, I don't think the colt would be lyin’ if he didn't think it important enough. What I can't figure out is why tell anythin’ at all. Felt like…” she snapped her fingers, “Like one Rarity's dress rehearsal things she's always carrying on about. Like he's practicing wut to say.”
Pear nodded slowly. Now that she was considering it, that's exactly what it felt like. Orion seemed almost manic in the way he bounced from one topic to the next. Connecting the story over a lot of back and forth.
“It's…his business, Granny.” She said after a bit of quiet between the mares. “A stallion has their secrets to keep, after all.”
“I know. Jest don't like it none. Feels like he's scared or-”
“Ma? Hun?” Bright Mac had certainly inherited his mother's silent stalking. Pear Butter practically jumped out of her chair.
She glared at him, satisfied to see that the effect was much greater on him than on his aging mother.
“Wut is it, colt?”
“I, uh, jest wanted to say. Orion’s not in his room. He's on the back porch. Jest…staring at the forest out there.”
Immediately, alarm bells went off inside her head, and she jumped to her hooves. The last time the pony had been watching the forest, Timberwolves had come onto the property and tried to eat him and little Winona.
“Not Timbers again, is it?” Granny spoke up quickly.
“Nah, I don't think so. He's jest, sittin’ there. Doin’ nothin’.”
Both mares turned and looked at each other. The old matriarch nodded, and as one, they rose from their chairs, tucked them in, and proceeded outside to the back porch. Bright Mac trailed behind.
Orion Falls sat on an old rocking chair, not using it for its intended use. His back was to them, and he seemed almost to become part of the furniture, so still was he.
Stepping up, Granny placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him.
“Colt, wut ya doin’ up so late. Ya should…”
Orion turned to look at her, blinked slowly, and then began vigorously scrubbing his face. Pear had spotted tears in the firelight of the porch light fixtures.
“The colt's crying?”
“I, ah, shit. Sorry Granny. Just sitting here thinking. Can't really-” Granny Smith pulled the black pony into a hug before anypony realized she had moved. Halting his words. More tears trickled down his face.
“It's okay, Orion.” She said softly. Pear joined them, sweeping around the other side to embrace him, boxing him in between both mares.
“I…”
“It's okay.” She repeated her mother-in-law. “You're okay.” She spoke softly.
Something had happened up in Griffonia. Something this pony was refusing to talk about. Yet, that didn't matter much to her, and she suspected not much to Granny either. A colt was crying, and they had to help him if they could do nothing else for him.
It started slow. A little shuddering as he tried to say something. Then, his voice broke, and a quiet sob wracked his body. Then another, and another.
Before long, he had buried his face into the crook of Granny's neck and began to bawl. Pear gave her husband a brief look, and he nodded and backed away. There would be time for his own advice and comfort later.
As the door silently closed, Orion Falls allowed the floodgates to open and poured his heart out into the rapidly dampening shoulder of Granny Smith Apple.
Sniffling, the young stallion blew his nose into the handkerchief she had provided.
“Sumthin’ really bad musta happened up there.” It had taken him over an hour to calm down. He had clutched at her as if she was the last standing tree in a forest of winds. All the while, he soaked her shirt and the fur underneath as he tried in vain to stop. Tried to fight what was natural. Sometimes, a good cry was all a pony could do in a situation like this. Needed to.
And Orion most certainly needed to.
“I…I'm sorry.” He mumbled, his voice thick with mucus and a rawness that only came like this. “I don't know what came-”
“Now, I'm gunna stop ya right there, Colt.” She said kindly. “I'm not sure why ya lyin’ or feel like ya need ta. But ya don't hafta explain ta nopony yew don't wanna.”
He was quite a moment. Then he chuckled. “Shit. I need to get better than that.”
“No, ya don't.” Granny admonished. The fact that he thought he needed to was alarming, to say the least.
“Kinda do, actually.” He muttered.
“What really happened up there, Orion?” Pear spoke up. She had taken up sitting behind him, her hand rubbing his back gently.
“She makes a fine Apple. Jest wish her daddy could come ‘round.”
“I…I can't tell you.” He said after some hesitation.
“Can't? Or won't.”
“Both.” He shook his head. “No one can really know.” He looked at her, and she knew.
Somepony had died up there. Somepony that had grown real close to him. His eyes, bloodshot and wide, spoke of something tragic. And he blamed himself.
Granny knew it, for it was the same look she saw in her husband's eye when his cousin turned up dead in his home. The poor mare had hung herself after being jilted by a herd that had led her on a merry little chase. He had a chance to see her and hadn't taken it. Three days later, she was found dead, swinging from the tree out behind her home. Cider blamed himself.
However, she couldn't quite be sure, yet she believed Orion’s situation might actually be worse than her late husband’s. There was a sorrow that did not come from neglect but from failure.
“Orion. Now, I don't mean to pry-”
“But you're going to.” He interrupted, giving her a small grin.
“Yes. I am.” She poked him, more happy to see some of his spirit returning than irritated at his cheekiness. “Somepony died up there. And ya blame yerself, don't ya?”
He gaped at her, and Pear stiffened up. “Gonna hafta work on that mare's intuition.”
“How in the absolute fuck, do you know that?!” She smacked him.
“Language, colt.” She scowled. “I know that, ‘cause my dear sweet Cider had that same look in his eyes. ‘efore you were an itch in yer momma's stomach.” Her face softened. “Wut happened, Orion?”
For a moment, he sat there, either too stunned to speak or looking for the right words. Finally, and much to her disappointment, he shook his head. Slowly at first, then more vigorously.
“I can't tell you, Granny.” He said. “It's not that I don't think you would spill to someone else or anything, but that you shouldn't know. No one should.” His eyes drifted to the floor. “At least, not for a long time yet.”
She tried to fix him with her trademark glare. But this colt had made a soft spot in her heart, and she understood that she wouldn't get much out of him now. Cider also did the same thing. Felt he had to protect her from his worries and fears, and Orion was doing the same thing.
Perhaps that's why she found it so difficult to be hard on the poor pony. He was much like Apple Cider.
“Okay.” She patted him on the shoulder gently. “I don't much like it. But I understand it.” Pulling at his arm, she started leading him back into the house. “Let's get ya to bed. All that musta tuckered you out.”
Orion lifted the end of the wooden shafts in both hands and pulled, Surprised at how easily the whole cart moved under his efforts. The last time he did this, AJ had spent most of the afternoon mocking him for struggling with twenty baskets. Now, he was pulling twice that and hardly feeling tired.
“Heh, Granny was right.”
The morning after his meltdown and subsequent allowance to sleep in, the elderly mare informed him that if he couldn't talk about it, He had to work through it.
She meant that in its literal sense, as he had been set to help pull in the first crop of apples that reopened faster than the rest. Over the past few days, he had gone on autopilot, allowing his body to follow directions while he worked through his feelings.
Those feelings had been complicated and heartbreaking, and spending a couple of evenings crying in bed had not exactly been what he wanted his closing days of freedom to be.
Yet, it was working. He still felt partially responsible for the events that happened in Aviary. Mostly, the death of Gilda still weighed heavily on his heart.
But he couldn't deny that she had made the decision to put her life after his own. Her duty was to her liege lady. Instead, she had chosen to fight for him, and while that may have seemed foolish, she had made her decision. He was denying her agency to beat himself over what ifs and could have been.
Gilda Broadwing had determined that his life was worth preserving. If that was for food or ill, no one could tell yet.
The same could be said of everyone who died that night. It was their decisions that placed them there long before his sorry ass ever set hoof in Griffonia.
It still hurt, but not as terrible as it had been.
Orion had also taken the time to think up a better tale to tell. He needed something a bit more concise than that half-assed nonsense he had spewed at the Apples. Granny and AJ had both seen right through it and if they could pick that story apart, Celestia could do it blindfolded.
What he came up with was far more true than before. Keeping to the whole of the journey, yet avoiding the controversial points such as the attack on Aviary or the encounter with the Iron Dogs. Instead, he claimed that they had visited numerous little towns and hamlets throughout Grace's territory. Acting clueless about political currents was the best thing for him. If he claimed that they toured her family's land, he could dispel knowledge of the fact that she did not actually own most of it just yet.
“Plus, if I act outraged at the fact that no one told me she had been royalty, that should further remove suspicion from me of any culpability.”
Even the Griffons were getting all weird toward the end. He had felt the thrum that the others talked about. But he was just as confused as they were. It was perfect. Or at least he hoped.
“It's time to go, I guess.” Part, a big part, of his decision to divert here had been solved. He had been unable to handle the trauma and would have likely broken down in front of Celestia in the process. That would have cooked his proverbial goose for sure. Now, he was confident he could handle such a meeting.
“And all it took was a few days of back-breaking labor to do it.”
“Dang, ‘Rion. Ya gotten pretty strong, ain't ya?”AJ said, coming up next to him with her own cart. Of course, it was loaded down with more than he had on his own.
“Compared to you? I might as well be pulling a little wagon.” He snorted back.
“Ya. But yew gettin’ there.” She reached over with one hand, not slowing down at all, and slapped him on the back. “Another month of this, and I'd say ya ken do a whole field yerself.”
“Ah, huh. No. I think three days is enough.” His laughter was cut short by the sad look that blossomed on her face.
“Ya leavin’ already?” She asked, coming to a complete stop and forcing him to follow suit.
“Applebottom, I've been away for two months. And school is starting up soon. I've gotta get back, or I'm gonna get into some deep-” His eyes darted around, looking for a familiar red bow. “In deep shit. I don't need that.”
“I know. Jest wish…wishin’ ya could stay a little longer, is all.” Her hoof kicked a loose stone off the dirt path they had been following. “I…we don't get to see ya much.”
Orion felt bad. It was bad that he had been neglecting his friends in Ponyville. Bad that he barely made time to write letters to her.
There had been no excuse for that. The spell he had been working on printed his words onto the page neatly and in an orderly way, just like a text message.
“Come to think of it, why didn't I do that for Celestia’s letter? She's probably annoyed by that chicken scratch I had sent her earlier.”
Speaking of the Sun Horse, she had obviously accepted his proposal, as soldiers had not kicked in the Apples’ door in the middle of the night. That was a good thing in his book. It meant she wasn't quite done with his bullshit just yet.
“I'm sorry, AJ. It's hard to balance my life out. Especially with all the studying I've had to do. Did you know I had a class last year that spent half the semester focusing on aqueducts and their make? A history class doubling as a construction course.” He chuckled. “We even had to make our own models of those things as a final grade.”
The number of terrible designs had been eye-opening, and they reminded him that not everyone had a broad range of knowledge about common-sense practices within certain fields.
“All walks of life, I guess. Not everyone is going to be passable at everything.”
“That sounds boring. Whatcha get?” She asked.
“Perfect score. Hundred out of a hundred.” He chuckled. “Some got a little upset, till the teacher reminded them that it might be my mark at play.” His chuckles turned into full-blown laughter. “They're wrong, but I ain't saying shit about it.”
AJ’s ears perked up. “What is your cutiemark, Orion?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering. “Heh. I don't actually have one.”
His friend stared at him blankly.
“Ya don't…have one?”
Smirking, he grabbed the top of his pants and pulled down enough to reveal his butt cheek.
“Nope. No mark has ever graced these cheeks.” He laughed as she tried to hide behind her hands and look at the same time.
“‘Rion!”
“Alright, alright.” He giggled, tugging his pants up. “Prude.”
“I ain't a prude. I jest don't think ya should be showin’ off your flanks to everypony.” Pausing to collect herself, her face changed from annoyed to worried. “Ain't ya bothered by that? Not having a cutiemark?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. Was he bothered by that? Not having a mark by this time was considered wrong. Rumors abound about stallions and mares not having yet discovered their destiny.
“No.” He said slowly, working through it. “I've not even thought of cared about it if I get one, yay. If not, oh well.” He shrugged. “My life shouldn't be determined merely on some magical voodoo mark like that. If anything…I'm freer than most.”
“How ya figure?”
“Well, for one, I'm not plagued with it.” Recalling a few fillies in his class, he was reminded how relieved they were by their acquisition of talents. It wasn't that he believed it pathetic, but that he found it sad so much of their lives were wrapped in acquiring and performing their mysterious destinies. “I don't need a cutiemark, terrible name bee tee dubs, to make me, well, me.”
“I suppose…” she said unconvincingly. “But ain't ya even a little bit curious as ta what ya good at?” Grabbing the shafts of her cart, Applejack lifted and began pulling her cart.
Grabbing his own, he worked to join her.
“Naw. Would it be cool? Possibly. But I just don't see the point in getting bent out of shape over it.” He smirked. “Hell, I could be good at anything at this point. I am undetermined. My potential is unlimited.” He snickered.
“Okay, “Mr. Unbound”.” Snorted at her friend.
They plodded along in silence for a while, the wheel carts squeaking slightly, but otherwise, the silence of the afternoon took hold.
“When ya plannin’ on leavin’?” She asked quietly.
“Probably tomorrow morning. Oh, you'll make sure Rare’s gets her gift?”
“Eyup.” She responded, and both snickered at the use of her brother's famous response. “Shame she couldn't be here.”
“Eh, she's trying to get her business up and running. Going to Manehattan for that competition will net her some valuable connections regardless if she wins or not.” He had only wished the Young Tailor's competition would have started in the fall. He was certain those bolts of cloth he lugged down from Neighbon would have helped her immensely. “This was important. Let her do her thing.”
“I know, but she gonna be right sore she missed ya.” Pulling up to the barn, he dropped his cart and helped push hers the rest of the way in so they could begin unloading.
“Oh, speaking of gifts, do you like yours?” He asked, suspecting he knew the answer.
“I do, ‘rion. But I'ma curious. How in tarnation did they make black apples?” Judging by how she snatched the pouch of seeds from him and tore off to their greenhouse, he knew she was excited, but her question made him wonder.
“Not really sure. Never ate one myself, though the seller said it had something to do with the soil and the elevation they were planted in. I think.” He wasn't really listening when he inquired, more thinking about what they might taste like. “How long before they begin producing fruit?”
“Not rightly sure on that.” She pondered, lifting a pair of baskets filled to the brim with bright yellow apples. “But I know they likely gunna be in that greenery for a least a few years before we can plant ‘em in the field.” She chuckled. “And we gots to do some testing and such to make sure they can grow here.”
Orion felt his ears deflate a little. “Sorry, should have thought of a more-”
“Nothing to apologize fer, ‘rion. I love ‘em. And I love the challenge of makin' it work. Ya couldn't have picked better for little old me.” She gave him a beautiful smile. “Now Rares? She's gonna love yer gift. So don't ya worry none about that.”
“Okay.” Lifting the last basket from her cart and handing it to her, he picked up the handles and wheeled away her trolley while she brought in the other one.
“Ya gunna disappear in the mornin’, or at least stay for breakfast?” His stomach grumbled at him. “I think yer belly wants that breakfast.” She chuckled.
“Yeah, and that dinner.” He laughed with her.
“Well, we hate ya see ya go, Colt. But we're happy ya stopped on by.” Bright Mac roughly clapped him on the shoulder as the whole Apple Family stood on the train platform. Already, the passengers were boarding in haste, even though they wouldn't be getting underway for at least another half hour.
“Yeah, sorry I made this mess of just stopping and leaving. You guys don't deserve that.” He smiled.
“Ain't nothin’ to be sorry fer, ‘rion.” Big Mac boomed. This was his first time speaking to him since his last visit. The big stallion had always been a man of few words, and they seemed to have gotten even fewer since.
“Damn, bro. Did you go through a second puberty?”
“Orion!” Applejack snapped, gesturing at the sleeping form of Applebloom in her arms. “Language!” She hissed.
“Ah, she's asleep. She'll be fine.” He giggled, petting the little filly's soft mane for a bit.
“Well, ya just take care of yerself, ya hear?” Granny responded, waving the newly acquired cane in his direction. “I don't wanna hear nothin’ of no trouble when ya get back up amongst them fancy ponies.”
“No promises, Granny.” He grinned insufferably, and the old mare scowled good-naturedly.
Pear stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
“Yew be good now. As Granny says, we don't wanna hear of no trouble.”
Letting go, he hoisted his things in his magic, which is now a lot lighter thanks to leaving his gifts behind. Mostly Rarity's.
“I'll be fine. Just going to get yelled at by the angry sun monarch is all.” As one, the whole family winced at that, and a couple of passengers circumventing the group looked at him all wide-eyed. Whispering to each other as they passed into the train cabin. “Oh boy, that's gonna be fun to deal with.”
“Yer own fault for being so loose with them lips of yers.” Granny admonished. “Now ya get going. We got some apples to load and a farm to be gettin' back to.”
One more round of hugs, and he was soon settling himself back into the familiar stiff seats of the train.
Orion sighed heavily. Watching with a bit of shame as the family got to work loading one of the boxcars with the produce they had hauled along with them. He could have at least helped, considering all they had done for him yet again.
Sitting back, the black pony thought about his life, how he had gotten to that moment, and the conversations he had with the family.
He couldn't see a therapist and couldn't really talk to anyone about what had happened. But good ol’ hard work and a friendly voice did wonders for his psyche.
While he did not think he was guilt-free in the events in Griffonia, he felt better knowing that his wasn't the only decision that put him there.
“Now. I gotta refine my lies if I'm going to get past Celestia. No problem, right?”
“Okay,” Orion muttered grimly, shouldering his pack again and trying to wipe the sweat from his forehead at the same time.
It did not go as planned. Again.
The simultaneous actions threw him off balance, and he hopped to one side, barely managing to stay upright, his free arm flailing in the air.
The pack was just too damn big.
Chuckles from passersby made him glare heatedly as he regained his balance, but folks seemed to be too amused by his unintentional antics to really feel the full might of his fury.
Sighing, he stared at the ground for a moment, and then he scuffed a hoof against the ground.
“Should have taken that conductor's advice on-” his brow furrowed in thought,”…I'm a fucking idiot.” If he had had a free hand, he would have smacked himself with it.
His horn burst to life, and the once burdensome luggage rose from his back and came to a stop next to him, floating several inches off the ground. More laughter erupted from the passing onlookers, and his ears went from crimson to almost purple in his embarrassment.
“Goddamnit.”
The only person he had to blame was himself. However, it didn't help that Apple's insistence on not using magic for his day-to-day needs caused him to fall out of practice, and he was tired as he slept fitfully in the booth seats of the train cabin itself. He had simply forgotten that it was an option for the moment due to the week he had spent living with the down-to-earth family, not to mention the nearly two months he had given the griffons before.
“Must be what they call travel fatigue. Shit or I'm just dumb as hell.”
Ignoring the amusement of the people around him, he checked his surroundings. From where he was, he could see he was about a block from the tram station on the second plate closest to the train station itself.
No one had stopped him upon exiting the train car, nor when he came off the platform itself.
As far as he could tell, there wasn't even a contingent of soldiers standing in the street or hovering in the air, waiting for him. There could be some hidden nearby, but without Radar, Orion could only see directly around him, which was nothing.
Other than random civilians, there was nothing. A mild relief washed through him.
“It seems…she's actually taken me at my word…?” He thought dryly. “Huh, how about that? Turns out people can learn.” He shook his head, a rueful grin forming. “Even supposedly immortal goddesses like her.”
Or, it could have been the calm before the storm scenario, and she was just waiting for him to drop his guard somewhat so she could rain all over his proverbial parade.
He sighed. Best not to think of that.
With a more relaxed pace, he quickly began making his way toward the tram station on Mulberry St., the travel bags and gifts they contained trailing after him in the hazy glow of his magic.
“It'll take me…what? Three? Four stops to get near home?” He thought unhappily. The sooner he could unload his burdens, the sooner he could relax.
That happy thought kept his spirits high right up until, of course, upon taking a left, he spotted his destination and came to a halt at the sight before him. Brow furrowing in confusion, he stood there trying to figure out what was happening. “The hell is…oh. Ohhhhh…” His mouth curled in undisguised disgust.
There was a small rally set up in front of the tram station. That in itself was not out of the norm, as lots of events are often hosted in front of such locations for the ease of those visiting. Different sectors of the city often had different days of celebration for some such holiday here and there, and ponies certainly liked to party.
However, it wasn't a festival but a far less entertaining and more often loathed political rally. Again, it was a normal happening, if a bit more rare, considering the stability of the realm and the rampant nepotism currently in government.
For all the family business of politics and corruption he could see peering between the lines of law and action, Equestria was essentially a peaceful and ordered nation. So, while there were positions within government to run for, it was still a bit unusual to see someone trying to climb the political ladder in such a way.
Judging by the attendees' expressions, this was not a very welcome one. It's not a good sign.
The crowd was angry and quiet, but muttering all the same as the speaker tried to incite them. Though there was something wrong about all of this, and he could not place his thumb on what.
It wasn't the apparent well-dressed politician calling out loudly to his supporters that bothered him, either. Judging by the aggressive stance, it was certainly a more fire and brimstone kind of speech. The supporters gathered out in front weren't really that much out of the ordinary either, other than being almost entirely composed of unicorns.
No, it was none of that. “The banner?” There was a large banner erected behind the stallion, driven into the deck of the makeshift stage that had caused him to sneer before he even knew why. Emblazoned upon the thick sheet was the church of Sol’s emblem and mission statement, the latter of which he didn't even bother reading once he recognized the symbol.
“Recruitment getting a little hard there, boys and girls? Have to bother folks on the street? You fuckers.”
Pausing after approaching a little further, the black pony regarded the potential roadblock with scorn.
On the one hand, he really didn't want anything to do with that crowd; it looked ugly enough. Some of the members looked already to be swayed by whatever rhetoric the hopeful councilstallion was spewing, while others wisely displayed doubt at the speaker's words.
Orion noted that the speaker wasn't alone up there. What looked to be several members of the clergy also stood behind the smartly dressed stallion. Their crimson and white robes seemed perfectly starched for this event.
The real issue here was that if the black colt decided against taking that tram, he was going to be stuck walking for an hour for another in the completely opposite direction. This meant more stops until he was home, as that line had a roundabout way of getting to his desired stop. With the current crowds hustling about, he was no doubt going to have to navigate traffic jams on hoof.
“Fuck! I don't wanna deal with these assholes.” He lamented, looking over the crowd for another entrance to the station.
Unfortunately, that's when he had really begun to pay attention to what was being said.
“My fellow ponies! Are you even aware of our current predicament?!” The political hopeful shouted out. “Are you not aware that we have been subjected to being pushed out of our own homes for the sake of greed and so-called commerce? For so-called refugees!?” He cried. He thrust his hands forward as if physically casting his words out to the masses. “Why do you think our taxes have gone up so substantially? Why has our food and water skyrocketed in the last ten years?”
“And pause for dramatic effect…” Orion couldn't help it. That thought and the smirk that blossomed on his face at how this stallion seemed to follow the manipulation handbook verbatim.
Growing up human, he had never really realized just how insulated to bullshit he had become till he had arrived on Equis. It was almost laughable.
“It is because the Noblesse have deemed it so!” Jutting a finger toward the distant third plate, he seethed on his little stage, his other hand gripping his podium in fury. “They have the ear of the Princess! They have dominion over the bureaucracy!”
“Nice little twist of words. Very biblical sounding. Huh, when was the last time someone used the term Noblesse?” He was close enough now that he could see the stallion clearly.
Dressed in a black suit with ivory pinstriping, he stood proud, his blue piercing eyes sweeping the crowd. He pleaded his case to the small gathering, attempting to project how dire their situation really was—or at least his perception of it.
“That's why I, Gavel Hammer! Am running for the Judiciary in the Third Court! I will-”
Orion zoned out, the stallion’s diatribe suddenly coming in a muted buzz as his mind turned inward, searching.
That name. Gavel Hammer. He knew that name.
“Wasn't he…oh…ooooh, shit.”
Mrs. Evergarden had once told him what had happened to Cloudy Sapphire. His letters had been returned undelivered due to the recipient not being in residence any longer, and he wanted to know why. With some trepidation, the Matron had informed him how a judge with the CFP backing had removed the mare of her authority and employment at the old orphanage in Manehattan. “His name, that…prick's name was Gavel Hammer. Fuck! What in the hell is this guy doing here!?’
Now, the Church's lackeys standing behind him made a whole lot more sense.
He looked around and noted with a fair amount of worry that many in the crowd were nodding along. Those he once saw being skeptical had thoughtful expressions on their faces.
“Should I say something?” He thought, panicky. What could he say other than being a dick to someone that was once kind to him? He knew nothing about the guy. Worse, besides what had already been said, he knew nothing of the stallion's real political leanings.
“If I might be so bold to ask, why is the Church backing you?” Came a young but authoritative voice off to his left. Whipping around, he saw a familiar face in the crowd and smiled in relief as others turned to regard this new speaker as well, Fancy Pants.
Dressed in a simple button-down blue shirt with sleeves and black slacks, Fancy looked like nothing more than someone who had been caught up in the tide of mild political upheaval. A well-dressed and well-cared-for passerby, but a passerby nonetheless.
Then, again, the colt never did seem to be like most nobles. He chose to dress simply when out of school instead of the gaudier and more flamboyant styles his peers would pack themselves into the moment school was over.
That was one of the many reasons why Orion actually liked the guy.
“Ah, a good and honest question deserving a good and honest answer, young stallion!” Behind him, a few of the members of Sol didn't quite glare, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of disapproval at the question itself. Considering it was targeted at them, there may be a reason to be upset. “It is because the Church wants Justice!” He cried out once again, turning his attention away from his friend and back to the crowd. He clearly thought that he was done dealing with Fancy’s minor interruption and was using his question as a springboard to his next point. “As much as any mare or stallion should want. All should be equal in the law! Not these special privileges afforded only to the massively wealthy and influential.”
“For all should be equal under our Lord and Savior, PoopsMcgee.” Orion mentally groused, frowning at how easily his friend had been dealt with.
Obviously, the Church wanted political clout. And with Celestia's recent ban on religious influence within the halls of parliament, recent in terms of twenty years in this case, and being in politics, which was a wise decision in his opinion, they have been stymied and forced nearly out of the City entirely in the last few years as the lacked the proper influence to remain prominent.
Fancy Pants was not yet done, however.
“Yet, I hear that in the Church, one is subject to the whims of those in its highest offices.” Fancy called out again, giving a thoughtful pause. “That those places above their congregation are equally as culpable in corruption.” He presented the statement as if confused, but the black colt could see the smile tugging at his lips.
Gavel’s face flushed.
“And what is your source on that slander, Young Foal?” And there is the dehumanization. Or is it deponification? A humiliation ritual, nonetheless, that one would employ when at a loss for how to combat thoughts and comments they do not like.
“I should know. I do it all the fucking time.”
“I know this personally, Sir. For you see, Sir Judge, my name is Fancy Pants of House Ison.” The noble pone said without pride or humility. “I have seen your members at galas and parties. I have been invited by those very members to soirees thrown with the bits donated by their congregation. I find it particularly strange that the Church would spend so lavishly what has been given to the “Sun”.”
The crowd began to murmur, some of the ponies who had been considering the Judge's words now frowning again, their brows furrowed in thought.
“How dare-”
“I also believe that your request for a rally was denied due to your desired location. Here.” Fancy interrupted quickly, pointing at the ground before him. “You were told specifically that a rally here would block hoof traffic. As I see you have already done, considering nopony can get to the tram with your stage in the way.”
“S-sometimes we must violate the law to embrace it's spirit!” Gavel was panicking, and Orion was beginning to relax, enjoying the show. Fancy Pants had him.
“Truly? If that is the case, then how can anypony trust you to uphold the law when it appears that any regulation that inconveniences you is ignored? That is not, as you yourself have put it, equal.” The flash of a bulb went off somewhere off to the left, capturing the gapped-mouth look the judge had on his face. It seemed the press was here as well.
He wanted to hi-five…four, his friend. He had just dismantled the bastard's whole speech in a matter of minutes. Not that Orion had heard the first portion of it himself.
The crowd was turning, and the Church members looked a bit concerned now. They were still disproving but definitely more concerned. Gavel Hammer had taken a step back in alarm.
“Hmm, I suppose I should inform you, as one does when the law is broken, that I have alerted the authorities of this breach of protocol.” Fancy hummed softly. “They should be here any time now, and I can't imagine they would be pleased with such a gathering.”
Bedlam. A word he never thought to use in such a situation as this, but that was what it was
The listeners and the simply curious scattered. The members of the Church, now openly scowling at Fancy, fled along with Gavel Hammer down the staircase in the back, leaving the stage behind. The press ponies vanished as if they were never there.
Soon, the street cleared. What was left behind was the stage and trash that, no doubt, some poor street cleaners would have to take down and pick up.
“Orion,” came his friend's amused voice, “of all ponies, I would like to think you are not one to listen to this drivel.” The smartly dressed colt took his ease as he walked up to him. “Unless?”
There were few times the black pony had ever seen his friend so self-satisfied, downright smug actually. This was one of them.
“Yeah, no. I don't have time for that garbage.” The black pony shook his head. “That asshole was blocking the tram entryway. I was just trying to get home.” Orion snarked back, reaching over to take the pony’s proffered hand and shook it. “Debate class seems to be serving you well, I see.”
“Ah hah, yes. It is quite rewarding. Though I shall be honest, this seemed laughably easy.” He gave a grin. “Though I suppose his speech was meant only to sway the lowest denominator.”
“Huh?” Picking up the things that he had set down in his magic once again, he gave his friend a confused look. “What, are you calling people stupid?”
“Oh, no. Not at all!” Fancy exclaimed, warding off his question with a frantic wave of his hand. “What I was implying is that most ponies neither care nor have the time for the intricacies of politics. Their lives are just too busy for that. Which means they miss the subtle cues that go on above their heads.” He pointed at the stage. “This…Gavel Hammer,” his voice laced with scorn at the name, “thought to prey on their ignorance and create an idea that they were being systematically pushed out of their homes and livelihoods.”
“And they're not?” Orion asked curiously. He hadn't really noticed anyone losing their homes en masse, but then again, like Fancy Pants said, he was too busy with his own life to notice.
The young noble colt nodded his head back and forth, arms crossed.
“While it is true that many ponies have lost one or both, just as many or more have gained here in Canterlot.” He shook his head sadly. ”Bad decisions make for poor futures. That is on nopony but themselves.” He clicked his tongue in distaste. “But like always, bad news spreads like a wildfire in tall grass, and good tidings are weighed down by the simple fact that bad news sells better in the tabloids and news.” His face turned grim. “The effects of that often overshadow any good in the world.”
“Huh, nice Earthpony reference.” The black colt remarked dryly.
“Oh, my gardener is full of idioms such as that. A rather wise pony she is.” The white colt chuckled. “Ah, but come, you have returned!” His arms unfolded to slap against Orion’s shoulders. “What news of Griffonia do you bring?”
Orion stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by what Fancy had just said. “Ah….a-a-and how the hell did ya know I left?” He spluttered.
How many knew he had been out of the city?
The white colt before him chuckled graciously.
“I came to call on you a month or so ago. The fair Mrs. Evergarden informed me you had taken off for a vacation in Griffonia, of all places.” He shrugged.
“Well, um…shit.” The black pone began. “If you know, then it's a good bet everyone else does by now.” Orion wanted to bite someone.
“Well, yes. But not for their own snooping.” He tossed an arm over his shoulders and leaned into him a bit. “Even I only first caught wind of it through the rumor mill.” Fancy gently guided Orion around and began walking toward the tram station. “Apparently, the Princess was quite upset with a certain colt who had suddenly disappeared, or so the rumor said.” He chuckled richly. “From there, I only had to perform a little investigation to find out it was you, not that there was much doubt as to who could have upset the Princess so. I made a little visit of my own to confirm my suspicions and possibly learn just where you had departed to.”
“Let me guess: “Would Orion do this? Yes. Yes, he would.” He mocked the noble Colt's tone.
“Hah! Almost, my friend. Come. Let me treat you to a welcome home brunch. I would know of our neighbors to the north if you would indulge me.”
“What about the guard?” He gestured to the forgotten stage.
“Ah, I must confess,” a conspiratorial smile washed over his friend’s lips, “that was a misdirection.”
“You mean you lied.” Orion shot back, a wicked grin sprouting on his own.
The white colt's smile turned oddly predatory on a normally foal-like face. “And Gavel and his coterie of sycophants will not know that till it's far too late to do anything about it.”
“Oh, wow. Shit, Fancy turned into an actual politician.”
“Fine, but none of that highborn fine dining nonsense you get subjected to. I wanna eat something with substance.”
“Fair enough, my friend. Souffle’s Bakery?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” And cheap. He never really liked spending gobs of cash on frivolous designer food, and Fancy Pants knew that as well.
“What a good guy.”
“I'm impressed,” Fancy said, delicately tearing apart a sweet bun and popping a small piece in his mouth.
“Impressed? By what?” Orion hadn't realized how hungry he had been. He had devoured four custard pastries and was thinking of pulling his own coin pouch out for more. “Must have been a longer train ride than I realized.”
“By you, of course.” His friend chided. “Orion, perhaps you haven't realized this, but I think you've…perhaps matured is too firm of a word to use for one such as you.” He chuckled when the black colt gave him the middle finger. “But grown, yes. That is what you've done. You, my good stallion, have grown.”
“Uh-huh.” Orion deadpanned back at him.
“By the Tree, Orion.” Fancy tutted. “The altercations with this Roderick fellow are just one example of your growth. From my experience with you in the past, that would normally have devolved into a fight in which you would have likely seriously hurt the hippogriff. Instead, you chose a more peaceful, dare I say, gentle approach to that situation.”
“Well, don't you go thinking I was being nice for the sake of it.” He chuckled. “I mostly didn't want to cause Grace any more trouble than I already have.” He shrugged uncomfortably at the admission. “His tantrums were getting out of hand, and I had to find a way of not simply beating the shit out of him. I've been blowing him off for the most part, hoping he'd get the hint.” Orion shrugged. “The truth is, messing with him like that would have likely landed my ass in jail. It would have been a huge headache for her to get me out. Not to mention, Neighbon is technically its own nation. Would have likely caused all kinds of international incidents.”
“The old Orion I know wouldn't have cared, would not have thought that far ahead.” Taking a sip of his tea, the white pony smiled over the rim. “It is good to see you grow.”
“My guy, we are the same friggin' age.”
“And yet, I still stand leagues above you in maturity, " he smoothly replied. There was not a hint of snark in his voice, yet it hung heavy in the air nonetheless. That was how Fancy Pants was: polite to a painful degree, yet he could still make one feel like the idiot in the room if you crossed him.
“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in.” Deciding against waving down a waiter for another helping of carbohydrates and sugar, he drained his own cup and figured it was about time for him to get moving. “Hey, I gotta get going. It's been a long-ass day, hah, a long-ass vacation. I need to get home, unpack my things, and crash if I can.”
“I suppose so.” He acknowledged. “But hold a moment.” He rested a hand on Orion's arm. “I should warn you of another rumor I have heard, one that may affect you. However, learning the details has been all but impossible despite my efforts.”
“Well, that doesn't sound good. What'd I do this time? You know, besides being a general menace to society.” The joke didn't land; his friend frowned at him, deathly serious.
“Orion, the Princess either has done something or is doing something to curtail your more,” he hesitated, waving a hand in the air, “enthusiastic outbursts. Your more roguish enterprises.”
“No details, though?” The man-turned-pony was a bit alarmed by the negative head shake. “Not even a hint? Are you positive that she's up to something about me?”
“I am at that. Raven Inkwell has been almost giddy with whatever she has planned. I have been watched her in court. Her smile practically glows.”
Orion blinked at that. Raven Inkwell was about as stoic as they came. He was convinced that the mare was a robot and not any kind of flesh and blood creature. To hear she was happy about something that involved him cranked the warning sirens in his head to an eleven.
“Well…shit.”
“Indeed,” Fancy said sagely. “Be careful, my friend. And use that newfound growth to cushion whatever blow may come your way.”
Meaning: don't be an idiot. Orion got the message but was unsure of how to avoid the boulder already rolling down the metaphorical hill.
“Well, that's new.” He muttered, stepping up the short stairs to the main entrance of Mrs. Evergarden’s Home for Wayward Foals.
The door had been painted.
The vibrant shade of yellow looked like the lilies that grew out back behind the orphanage in decorative bunches set amongst the riot of other flowers the Matron liked to plant.
“Door knob is new too? Well, handle, I guess now.” The gold handle gleamed in the afternoon light brightly.
The longer he looked, the more new things he could spot on the old structure. The wooden shutters were painted the same yellow as the door in front of him, and there was a new white-painted lattice work that was put up on the sides and between windows, with little shoots of recently planted climbers already making their way up from the bottom.
Even the stonework had been recently scrubbed and washed. New mortar filled the cracks, where some of it was beginning to decay. Over the years, this building has served its myriad of short-term residents and it was beginning to show the wear of those decades.
“About the only thing that isn't new is these two pillars.” He rapped a knuckle on one of the only pairs of gray marble the building owned. “And the stained glass, too, I guess.” His brow furrowed. “She better not have done this all herself.”
When he had departed, Daisy Evergarden had not been showing too much during her pregnancy, barely at all, in fact.
At first, he wasn't sure what was happening with the proprietress, so he was mum about her sudden weight gain, not wanting to offend. It certainly wouldn't do to piss her off after all she had put up with for him.
Much to his relief, she had announced her pregnancy just before he skipped town, and she was radiant as the little foals gushed about her, guessing at whether the infant inside was to be a filly or a colt.
It was really sweet.
While it was true that carrying a foal to term was a much longer process for these ponies than humans, he didn't like the fact that she still worked nearly, or just as in some cases, hard as she always had done.
Orion admonished her one afternoon when he caught her straining to levitate boxes of goods and new clothes down into the basement. Snatching the latest box from her grasp, he nicely told her to sit her ass down and finished the job himself.
Her only response was to smile gently and come back later with a tray of tea and baked goods. Mares. Take one job away from them; they always seem to find something else to do. The tea was good.
Turning the handle, he pushed the door open and ducked inside. Carefully, he quietly shut the door back into its frame. Looking around, he smiled at the familiar sight of the verdant green walls of the foyer and staircase. The gold trimming bright as it spiraled around the balusters and main rail seemed to have gotten redone as well.
“Just how much work has that mare put in?” He wondered, listening to the sound of pounding hooves coming from the floor above. “Hmm, not as many as I thought there'd be. Heh, perhaps she's finally running out of kids to peddle.” His mirth died. Considering the state of this world, that was likely never to happen.
Images of Griffonia’s capital flashed in his mind, and his frown deepened. All those families displaced, the mothers weeping over their children. He hoped that his efforts would help them. It was not lost on him just how long it would take to get some of his ideas into full circulation, but Sigurd had already come far in his efforts. He may just adapt the new techniques quickly enough to have an effect by spring next year.
Sighing, he gently kicked off his shoes and looked them over as he picked them up to put away. The metal had certainly been run into the ground during his time out in the Griffonian countryside. It had to be less than one or two centimeters thick. Judging by the pits and scuffs in the metal, he would eventually need to replace them, likely just before classes picked back up.
Placing them on his personal rack with a smile, it was nice to see his name hadn't been scrubbed off the placard just yet. He tip-hooved down the hall, carefully avoiding bumping into things and leaving his bags behind for the moment. He didn't want to give his presence away just yet.
With his Radar on the fritz, he had to rely on his hearing and intimate knowledge of where Mrs. Evergarden would likely haunt during mid-afternoons. Usually, in the office, trying to get the paperwork done was his guess. She was a pony of habit, after all.
Turning left at the tee in the hall, he quietly stalked to her office. Above, one of the foals let out a scream that froze him to the spot just before the cry of giggles unthawed him.
“Damn, kids. Gonna give my ass a heart attack, for fuck sake.”
Peering slowly around the corner, he spotted her in her personal office. Sitting in her high-backed chair, back to him as she worked to scribble notes, moving sheets of paper aside to check them. This was perfect.
Slowly, carefully, he sneaked off past her to the kitchen. No need for her to notice just yet that he was home.
The scullery was empty. The smell of cleaning solution filled the space, meaning Mr. Dumpling had only recently vacated his realm. The cook must have just left to get more ingredients from the markets.
Quickly, Orion bustled about the kitchen, preparing a little teapot with milk, honey, and a container of sugar on the side. A small heating spell was channeled into the pot's water.
“If I remember correctly, she likes that forest berry stuff.” Sifting through the various bags, he spotted it. Adiago’s Forest Berry Blend.
Gently, he steeped the bags into the steaming water and waited.
Leaning back, Orion thought about his longtime guardian. The mare had done quite a bit for him over the years. Keeping him out of trouble, making sure he got his lazy ass up for school on days he most certainly wanted to torch the classroom. Fussing over him during the various holidays he had often been alone for. She really was a lot like his mom at this point.
“And here I went and skipped out on her, leaving her to deal with a no doubt pissed-off Princess.”
That had been unfair, and the perspective wasn't new. It was just now, after Griffonia, that he felt truly guilty about it, which only made him feel even worse. She had to deal with teachers who complained about his attitude in class or prospective adopters who came to see him when he started his nonsense of embarrassing the lot of them.
“You are truly a prick, aren't you, Orion?”
He would do better. She deserved better from him. Still, he was determined not to be adopted by anyone. Nothing good could or would come of that.
“Oh, God. Next, I'm gonna call Her mom.” He stuffed his chuckles back down his throat and checked on the tea. It was ready.
Carefully stepping back into the hall, he walked gingerly back to her office, holding the tray of tea and biscuits loosely in his grip. The latter he had found while scrounging around for something to pad out the little treat.
Quietly cursing his uneven hooves, he steadily placed the tray beside her on an open spot usually reserved for such occasions.
“Oh. Oh!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Mr. Dumpling! I had not realized you had returned so soon!” She giggled. “I thought you said too many treats spoils a pregnant…” Her words slowly petered out as she finally noticed just who had brought her the afternoon refreshments. Eyes wide and unreadable.
Orion stood there for a moment, then waved, a small smile on his lips. “Hey there, Mrs. E.” He began awkwardly. “Nice to-hurk!”
The short mare exploded from the chair and, with a leap so fast he couldn't catch it, jumped to wrap her arms around his neck in a fierce hug.
“ORION!”
He supported her weight in his arms and smiled. She had put a lot of joy, worry, anger, and relief into his name as she practically strangled him with her own arms.
“I deserve a slow death by squishy mother mare.”
Letting him go after a moment, her hooves thumped to the floor as he stood back to wait for her to make the first move. It didn't take long.
Quickly, she went over his body, parting clothes here and there. Grabbing his legs to check his hooves. Pulling his head down to peel back his lips and check his teeth.
“The American TSA can learn a thing or two from her about invasiveness.” He laughed at his joke, and Daisy Evergarden took exception. She smacked him. It was not even close to what Applejack had done, but the action caught him off guard.
“Mrs. E? Wha-” She smacked him again. Harder.
“YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK!” She shouted. Her voice boomed into the tiny room, and the foals above went deathly silent. Smacking him a third time, she continued. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY SLEEPLESS NIGHTS I HAVE HAD BECAUSE OF YOU!?” Another smack. “YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR MONTHS! NO LETTER, NO NOTHING!” Smack. “I thought…” she faltered. “I thought you…died.” She sniffed, and Orion enveloped her in a hug as the mare quickly went from sniffling to sobbing. Occasionally, thumping into his chest with a fist as she wept into his shoulder.
“Ah, damnit. I deserve this.” He frowned, patting the older pony's done-up mane gently as she continued to weep into his chest. “I'm such a bastard.”
“Your hooves need a trim,” Daisy said with a sniff. It had been the first thing she had said in ten minutes. After her session of crying and ineffectual efforts at beating him, Orion had pushed her into her seat and fixed her a cup of tea as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and made herself presentable.
The kids were back to running around, but there were less squeals of joy coming from above.
“Yeah.” He mumbled. “There wasn't exactly a farrier out there to go to for that.”
She huffed at that. “Tomorrow, you will go down to Bob and Center Punch’s place and get that taken care of immediately. I do not want to see you developing a limp for your negligence.”
“Yeah. I can do that.” Silence again, and it was anything but comfortable. “Mrs. E-”
“Don't.” She interrupted. Anger and fear bleeding into misery in her voice as she jabbed a finger at him like a spear. “Orion, I don't want to hear it right now.” She said, less heated than before but it sounded like she was on the verge of breaking down again. “I am glad to see you're safe, but I am very angry with you.” She sighed. “ I want you to go to your room. Unpack your things. And not come out. You are grounded. Do you understand me? Grounded.”
He winced but nodded. He had really screwed up. The cost of being a selfish little prick. It was the same behavior that he had inflicted on his grandparents. Royally screwing things up and then leaving them to pick up the pieces.
It never changed. He had not changed.
“Okay, Mrs. E.” Unable to hold his head up, he turned and teleported his bags from the foyer rather than walk all the way back to retrieve them.
“Orion?”
He looked back. “Yes?”
Mrs. Evergarden, with fresh tears in her eyes, smiled. “Welcome home.”
“Just like my grandma.” He smiled weakly, fighting back the moisture of his own.
“Thanks, Mrs. E.”
“Okay. No, not that one.” He muttered aloud, tossing a notebook aside, realizing that would be too many for his already overcrowded satchel.
At the foot of his bed, Orion worked quickly to ensure he had everything he needed for his beginning classes, which started Tuesday next week.
For whatever reason, the start of classes had been delayed; though rumors said that maintenance in one of the wings was still underway, the restart of fall classes fell on the third day of the week instead of the second. Sunday, he counted as the first.
“It is still weird to me that this world uses the same days and months as my old one. I mean, what are the odds?”
Apparently, it was good, as that was one of the few things he had no issue with regarding his integration into the new world. Then again, language, mathematics, and even geographic locations, despite how puny they were to him, were also similar.
“They even have a train.”
“Think that covers just about everything.” He paused, nodding to himself.
It was Friday, mid-morning, and before him was a spread of notebooks, quills, ink pots, and a new curriculum that had been released for the school year. The last was delivered during the tail end of August before he had returned.
Most of the materials would be stored in his cabinet next to his desk till needed. The rest would be in the new satchel, some of which would be stored in his locker, while the rest traveled with him daily on his trek to and from school.
He frowned at the inkpots themselves.
“I really should get started on creating that damn fountain pen.” He mentally groused.
Memories of last year’s ink pot disaster had forced him to purchase a new bag for his things, and books as well. If not for Twilight’s offered notes, he would have lost out on more and would be forced to take remedial afternoon classes to recoup what was lost.
A similar scenario often plagued more than a few students each year, and he had thought, a bit childishly, that he would never be one of them. All it took was one morning of forgotten spell casting, and the mess would be irredeemable, as was the case for him that unfortunate day.
Still, his current designs had their own issues. He was having trouble figuring out how to keep the condenser from leaking into the nib, creating the mess he was trying to avoid. Currently, the only solution was keeping the write end of the pen upward until use. But that would not last, as mistakes would happen.
“How to make it foolproof…”
Abandoning his school supplies, he reached up to the shelf above his desk and pulled down his notebook. Here, he had written down, diagrammed, and detailed any idea that came to mind whenever a simple solution to a new problem occurred. While not as valuable as the one lost in Griffonia, nor one he would lose sleep over if someone came across it, it was still an important resource for the future.
His future.
All those little ideas would net him a hefty bit once he worked out solutions to them.
Flipping to the middle, he quickly found his notes on the fountain pen and perused through it.
“Okay, so. The condenser needs space to fill, of course. But what do I need to do is prevent the condenser from leaking. The question is how. How do I keep…maybe create a vacuum?” A timid knock at the door caused him to look up and glare balefully at it. “Who in the hell is bothering me?”
Placing the notebook on his desk, he strode over, yanked the door open, and was immediately confronted by a young colt. Terror was etched on the kid’s face and made him immediately regret the glare he had worn upon answering the knock.
“It's not his fault. And I shouldn't get pissed at every inconvenience.”
Breathing slowly in and exhaling just as fast out. He spoke.
“What do you need?”
Sometimes, the bravest of the new foals would come knocking on his door when they needed help prepping for the first day of school. Like the old lore he had found, Orion believed this was one of those rite of passage things only the cool colts and fillies did to earn status among their peers, even if they didn't understand the hidden social dynamics themselves just yet.
“M-m-mrs. E-evergarden ne….needs you.” The black pony sighed. At least this one could talk right away. Most took a moment to work up the courage even after arriving at his door and were usually in an even worse state than before.
Impressed, he reached over and tousled the colt’s mane. Anger at being bothered, bleeding away completely as he smiled down at the shocked pony.
“Thanks, little man. I'll be right down.” The foal bolted, an odd mix of surprise and pride on his face. Orion chuckled to himself as he turned around and began quickly putting his things where they were needed. He had a feeling this was what he had been waiting on.
Tramping lightly down the stairs, he marveled at what a trip to the farrier could do for his hooves. The uneven gait he had been forced to endure was a thing of the past.
“Might be a good idea to learn how to do that for myself. Never know when I'll be without that kind of service again and have to go through that annoyance.”
He had heard that if a pony let their hooves grow too much, they could develop sores and a permanent limp, though that could have just been something parents could tell their foals to keep them obedient. He wasn't sure, as he had no experience with equines from his old world until now. While the black colt hadn't come close to that degree of neglect, it wouldn't do for him to risk it, so he was making plans to attend a couple of classes at his school on it. If nothing else, he could count on the ability to save his coin from going to a shop. Hoof care was expensive, at least in this city.
Orion took his time getting to Mrs. Evergarden's office. It was important to at least appear unbothered by what was likely to be a solid, fun-filled afternoon of fuckery brought on by the big assed white mare herself.
Who stood inside made him hesitate somewhat. Orion had expected the summons, but he did not know who would be bringing it. He sighed and greeted them.
“Afternoon, Mrs. E. Afternoon, Silver Bell.” He said, giving the mare strapped in gleaming gold, white, and purple armor a little half-assed salute. “Took her sweet time, didn't she?”
Silver Bell gave him an annoyed snort. “Course yew were expectin’ a summons.” Shaking her head, she laughed. “Just lost fifty bits because of yew.”
“After that letter, I left behind? Like she wouldn't want to chew me out. Yeah, no. Besides, apparently, everyone knows about my little vacation up in the great wide north by this point. Even if she hadn't known at first, she'd know by now.”
“Aye, that they‘re.” Standing, she gave the proprietress a sympathetic look. “We'll be back, Mrs. Evergarden.”
For some reason, Daisy looked upset but simply nodded, her eyes drifting to his own, with clear worry in them.
“Come on now, Colt. Can't keep the Princess waitin’.” Silver gently pushed him back out the door, guiding him toward the foyer.
Ignoring his questioning look as she waited on him to put on his shoes and capesso the bag of gifts he had waiting in the corner of his room, she simply stood there with arms folding in annoyed impatience. Before he had time to settle a strap on his shoulder, she ushered him out the main door and onto the street.
“I get that I did wrong, or at least according to the Princess, but why the strong-arm tactics from Equestria’s best, eh?” Silver had him halfway to a carriage that had been obviously arranged to take him to the castle and sighed, ceasing her efforts for a moment.
“Orion. I don't think yew understand just how much trouble yew…you caused.” She shook her head, switching into a more professional tone. “Did you know…” The guard paused. “No, not gonna say a word to you. Going to let the Princess handle you like I was told.”
“Well…shit.”
Alarmed, Orion tried to protest but was shoved bodily into the carriage and locked in. Three thumps echoed on the walls, and the carriage took off at a much too fast pace.
“Okay, I must’ve really fucked up in her eyes if she is going through all of this.” He gazed out the back, noticing the soldier’s legs completing the climb to the top. Bewildered, he sat back down and stared straight ahead. “Just how deep in the shit am I really?”
The sitting room.
It was the fucking stateroom again. Same white walls with gold filigree embedded into the wood. The same potted plants that occupied the same corners of the round chamber. Same couches that he had placed his ass on before.
The same windows, showing the normally clear blue skies with stained glass, worked in to create colorful masterpieces that he ignored.
The same tea set occupying the center of the coffee table with white trimmed with gold pattern cover.
Same ticking clock. “I am going to break that clock if it's the last thing I do in this life.”
What wasn’t the same? Celestia's big white rear wasn't there. Hadn't been for nearly an hour, and the guards weren't responding to his inquiries about when her Royal Assness was supposed to show up.
The pair only gave him a derisive snort and turned away, shutting the door in his face. He had quickly given up learning what the hell was going on and just sat with his arms folded and staring straight ahead.
“What in the hell happened?”
Since entering the palace, he had been getting some rather cold looks from many of the guards manning their posts along his route to the Princess's favorite torture chamber. Even some of the servants he had seen scuttling about had given him the stink eye before returning to their duties with a huff.
Clearly, he was not popular with the current crop of castle staff.
However, there was one that really caught his attention. One that bothered him a great deal more than the others.
The Elusive Hidden Princess.
He had heard the rumors, of course. Who hadn't? But seeing was indeed believing, as Silver Bell continued to be only slightly less hospitable as opposed to everyone else in the castle, shoving him along at a brisk pace. He spotted her standing on one of the various elegant walkways that seemed to be separated from the rest of the castle.
Even at a distance, he could tell she was gorgeous—like all the beauty in the world personified.
Her multi-colored mane of purple, pink, and yellow fell in heaping loose coils around her neck and chest, and he presumed her back. The body this mare possessed was almost a perfect hourglass. The hips being just slightly wider than her bust, in which the pearl and blue colored dress showed ample cleavage, led to legs that were unseen, yet left an impression that they were long and well defined judging by her stance and the way the skirt clung to her.
In children's books, and later in foalbooks of this world, he had read something along those lines in various fictional stories that very nearly described someone like her. He had often thought that it was the author's way of embellishing the beauty of a woman but was unable to give true words to the vision in their heads.
He had been mistaken. This mare was all that and more.
Celestia was a looker, to be sure, and her ass-to-boob ratio was bigger and even. But this lady…this lady was in a league of her own.
However, proof of her existence wasn't what troubled him.
However, knowing there was a second Alicorn just running about all willy-nilly was concern enough. No, it was the look she was directing at him in her purple eyes. It was cold, like ice, and angry to the point that he felt like he should have been crushed flat. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he had kicked a whole sack full of puppies in front of her.
Now, he sat in what he began calling the Punishment Room, waiting on another Princess to give him the time of day while ruminating on the former. Considering his previous encounter with royalty, she may simply be too busy to see him. But this long isolation felt…personal.
Then again, so did that glare.
The door clicked open, and he stood quickly, much to his embarrassment.
“Why the hell am I standing?...oh, right. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf.”
In Celestia swept, with all the unhurried grace one in her station could hold. Her hands were burdened with a number of folders and loose sheets of paper that had him curious, but ultimately, he kept his eyes focused on her.
Dressed in a white gown —which wasn't surprising—that left one soft shoulder exposed, she seemed relaxed, though surprised at his sudden respect. Purple slashes of color decorated the hem of the dress at the bottom, and gold needlework in floral designs gave him the impression of her being ready for a garden party later in the afternoon.
Her magenta eyes held irritation, for him, of course, and annoyance that possibly had nothing to do with him at all. Slim chance that.
“Orion.”
“Princess.”
Placing the items she carried on the coffee table before her, she eyed him before sitting down smoothly, adjusting her skirt oh so carefully.
“It is good to see you are in good health.” She stated, looking at him. How could a being who supposedly moved the sun itself be so cold? Granted, he had been a bit of a shithead most of his life, both previous and present, but he didn't think his recent trip away warranted this reaction. “Is there anything you'd like to say before we begin?”
Taking a deep breath, he sighed. “She is gonna run right over me, isn't she?
“Uh, yeah.” Hefting up his bag for her to see, he dug around and pulled out what he had gotten for her from Neighbon. “I realize this will likely not soften the blow of…whatever is going to happen here today, but hey,” he chuckled, “I couldn't help but try. Right?”
Her gaze softened just a smidge as she took the package from him and considered it before placing it next to her without prying into its contents. Her stoic demeanor returned in full force.
“Yes.” She responded simply. “You did try.”
“Shit.”
Something told him to remain standing until she said otherwise, so with great personal annoyance of his own, he did.
Celestia watched him for a moment. Eyes drifting over his face, his body.
“Orion, have you grown taller?” She asked suddenly, causing him to blink.
“Uh, yeah.” He coughed. An eyebrow rose, and he amended his response. “Yes, Princess, I mean.” Giving a weak smile, he continued. “Apparently a steady diet of mostly meat dishes did my body good.” He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I see. And was it worth it?”
The black colt knew exactly what she meant, or at least thought he did. Pausing a moment, he considered his answer and then shrugged.
“Most in this situation might say no. But I'll be honest, Princess,” he gave her an impish grin. “It totally was. I was really getting sick of the all-fish diet.” His second shrug was apology enough as far as he was concerned.
“Is it still worth it, knowing that some ponies got hurt because of you?”
It wasn't alarm bells but warning klaxons in pig squeal levels of sounding that rang through his skull. He goggled at her.
“How had she found out?!” His mind churned out a panic-tidal wave of thoughts. “How did this bitch learn I was in Aviary? Did some of the unicorns survive? Did she know what I was doing there? How much did she know?!”
“Buh..?” He squawked.
“Orion. When I learned of your disappearance, I sent a team of Rovers into Griffonia after you.”
“Huh?” He paused, his brain wanting to calm himself down while his heart did its best to kill him at the same time. “What? Why?”
“It was because you were in Griffonia. Unaccompanied, as a minor.” She said as if it was the most logical thing to think, spelling it out slowly like he was eighty and hard of hearing.
“But isn't that against international treaty or something?” He asked, trying his hardest to get his bearings on this rollercoaster ride from hell as his mind raced for a response plan.
Could he run? Feasibly get away from her in time to hide? “Flashbang her ass?”
“A large force, yes, that would be the case had I followed that path.” She nodded. “I see you do pay attention in class after all.” She picked up a folder and did not quite shake it at him. “But a force of five is more considered to be an observational team by those same treaties.”
“So she hadn't sent the unicorn force.” A voice from the dark corners of his mind pointed out, and his knees nearly buckled.
There was both relief and irritation at that thought. He was happy that she seemed not to have a clue as to the details that happened in Griffonia. However, part of him was bothered by the fact that he might never learn who sent them.
“Stupid ass thing to be upset about. I know who sent them! The question is: why is the Church of Sol doing all this? What was their endgame?”
“Okay.” He calmed, now angry that he had been forced into a corner that never actually existed. “Can I ask something first?”
“Please,” she nodded, “if that is what you need in order to understand the gravity of your situation, you may ask.” She responded, placing the folder down and crossing her arms, legs, and leaning back.
“First, I want to cover some stuff that I've thought about and not really had a chance to ask.” He replied, remaining standing.
He didn't want to push his luck till he knew what was going on and how far he could push her with his questions. Pissing her off immediately would serve nothing. Best to start small.
“I'm going to go under the assumption that you likely read my mail between me and Scream.” Her slight and begrudging nod began to paint a picture already lined out by his suspicion. “The only reason I can think for you to do that is because you know, or have known, who she really is.” Her eyebrow cocked slightly. “I'm getting to the question, hold your…uh…eyebrows..?” He snorted at his near faux pas and pressed on. “So, taking that into account, I was with an adult.” She didn't protest that statement, so he got bold. “Hell, an adult with an armed force around her at all times.” He pointed out. “So, your unaccompanied minor issue is rather moot from a purely technical standpoint, at least. Right?”
He could hear the wind whistle past her teeth as she took in a breath. Rather than yell at him, of which in this close proximity he was thankful for, she exhaled slowly.
“Orion. I will acknowledge that you are, indeed, technically correct.” Celestia began, weariness in her tone. “You were, in fact, well protected and under adult supervision.” He nodded. “But you were also in the hands of a foreign nation that is likely fully aware of your relationship with the Throne and Twilight Sparkle specifically.”
In all fairness, he could see where that might have made her nervous. Twilight’s mental well-being was paramount to the mare, even if it seemed overtly so to him. Which also meant…
“Ah, crap. That's why you sent them in after me.” He groaned, and Celestia's lips quirked into a smile. “It's because if something happened to me, your student would likely have had a meltdown.” He frowned. She was not about to like this next part, but it was important to say. “Yet, I fail to see how this is my fault.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her magenta eyes widened, outrage beginning to brew in them like twin volcanoes.
“Now, before you create a new sun on the mountain, let me explain.” Orion waved his hands frantically. Once she seemed to calm and the sudden increase in temperature cooled somewhat, he began. “While it is true, I went galavanting off to Griffonia on a whim. I fail to see why you sending anyone after me is my fault. As I pointed out and you agreed, I was just visiting a friend and well protected by guards. Yet, regardless of all that, I disagree that my sorry butt was worth sending a team of soldiers in after.”
He shrugged and, after a moment, sat down. He was still tired from all the traveling he had done. Whatever was going to happen would happen regardless of how good his behavior was now.
He would still try and refrain from being a rude ass, but only just barely.
“Orion.” She began testily. “Do you not understand what a possible injury that you could have-” The black colt raised a hand to stave off what was likely a long-winded dress down. Perhaps he wasn't doing such a hot job not being a dick.
Old habits die hard, he guessed.
“On Twilight, yeah.” He shrugged. “I got that. But let's be real until you started sending me very pointed letters, there was no real chance of us becoming friends.” Leaning forward, and gave his own glare at the Sun Princess. “I was actively avoiding her. Now, don't get me wrong, Twilight is a very sweet girl. Smart and clever. And I enjoy hanging out with her.” He fixed her in his eyes. “But if I had my way, I would never have become friends with her. You,” he pointed at her, “forced that onto me. Onto us.”
Celestia's eyes narrowed at him. But he was on a roll and didn't let her get a word in edgewise.
“Why am I now responsible for your decision?” He shook his head. “I was never going to change my plans. I'm going to do what I want within the bounds of the law when I want.” Pulling a sheet from his pants pocket, he unfolded. “The right of travel is guaranteed to all ponies, no matter stature, as long as they are above the age of fourteen.” He placed it down on the table. “I found that little factoid while waiting for you to drag me here. Another fortunate, for me, point.”
The white monarch did not explode as he expected. Instead, she watched him as she weighed whatever options were passing through her mind.
“Orion,” she said at last, “the moment you accepted her friendship, you were responsible for the actions you took that could affect her. That in itself makes you culpable in this affair. I can not, and will not, allow you to make decisions that will harm her in any way.”
And here it was, what he had hoped to avoid. Another direct confrontation. “Shit.” Orion sighed.
For a moment, he said nothing. Only contemplating how best to defuse the bomb that was Celestia. He pushed on.
“I learned something while up there, Princess.” There was no heat in his tone like that of her own. Just tired resignation. “You are, in fact, correct. We are all responsible for our own choices, whether they affect others or not. Yet, while we should take that into consideration when making plans, we should not live our lives in fear of what might or might not happen. Or who might be affected.” He felt tired suddenly. “To do so would mean everyone would live in a cage of their own making. Fearful of what choices we might make and the effect it would have on those around them.”
Shaking his head, he turned away from her to stare out the window.
“If this is what you want, you will have to lock me into a dungeon and throw away the key. ‘Cause I'm not going to allow ifs and maybes dictate how I live. Not by Twilight, not by my friends in Ponyville or Griffonia, and certainly not by you.” His gaze swung back to hers. “That isn't living. I don't know what that is, but it's not living. I am not some fragile egg to be swaddled in cotton and kept in a jar. Nor am I a tool that can be leveraged by someone against someone else. To quote you, “I won't have it”.”
“Unbelievable.” Celestia thought, incredulous of the situation.
Again, Orion Falls sat in open defiance of her will. Not just defiance, he was flinging her words back into her teeth.
In the beginning, it was cute. Adorable, actually. The way he stamped his hoof and stood strong in his convictions. Even during last year's events in which she had almost lost control, it had still been amusing, if only just.
Now, it was most certainly not.
Celestia could not outright refuse his logic. As he had readily pointed out, he wasn't just technically correct; from an emotional stance, he was also correct from a practical position. Placing the burden of keeping her student happy on him was unfair. She knew that.
But Twilight was far more important than some little pony's desire for independence. This defiance could not stand when faced with the enormity of what that little mare would one day achieve. Would one day become.
“Tell me, what happens when I leave?” His question caught her off guard.
“What do you mean, Orion?” This was going to remain a peaceful meeting between them. No matter how much it would feel good to shout at the little fool. The white monarch had planned too long to allow him to rile her, but it was a near-run thing.
“I mean when I turn eighteen, graduate, and I march right off into the sunset.” He chuckled. “‘Cause if you think for a minute I'm just going to stick around this place, then you're crazy.” Anger surged within her, and she had to slam back down with effort. “What am I supposed to do? Wait, hand and hoof on her at every minute once school is over? Sounds a lot like slavery to me, Boss Lady.” He chuckled. “Come on, Princess. I know you thought this through. What was I supposed to do in your grand plan?”
“Well, he certainly went for the throat on that one.”
Her plan was simple if long in execution. He was supposed to fade into the background. As school life came to an end for the young mare, she would begin tasking Twilight with increasingly more time-consuming activities until he was no longer a consideration in her student's mind. In truth, she had never wanted him around, but when he suddenly appeared in Twilight's circle of influence, she had acted quickly to keep him there. Never realizing how fast the impact of his presence would have been or what the effect might be other than the hoped-for promise of friendship.
Foolish, now that she knew more about him.
Celestia sighed. He liked honesty, and he had been honest so far with her. Not a surprise, she had often tried to catch him in a lie, even precasting the spell for detecting, as she did today, but there was still not a sign of a lie to be detected.
“Orion, I intended for you to fade into the background once you graduated.” Celestia frowned. “She is fixated on helping you achieve the very best in scores and practical exams at the moment, and that gives her experience in dealing with other ponies, especially crippled ones such as yourself.” She smiled softly, almost ruefully. “Even obstinate ones, again, like yourself.” He gave a grimace. “I planned to simply distract her long enough to forget you and remove you so far in social standing from her that you were more of a fond memory than any real pony in her life.”
“Heh.” He chuckled. “Instead, I'm going to be the bandage ripped off a dried wound.”
“Going to be?” The tone in his voice made her hackles want to rise. He wouldn't dare, would he?
“I think I'm going to end my friendship with Twilight Sparkle.”
Celestia's breath caught in her throat. “He would not dare!” Yet, his eyes said just that: yes, he would dare.
“As long as we are friends, I will not be free to live my life. Even if I'm to be the background character, that will take longer than I am willing to accept.” His head rocked from side to side. “However, I will not do the cowardly thing and ask you to tell her. No, I will do that myself. She deserves that much.” He smirked. “In turn, you and I shall never have to speak to one another again. Bonus!”
Celestia gaped at him. She couldn't help herself.
This was not going how she wanted, not at all. Thousands of years of political experience and power only to be thwarted by the onslaught of this pony's determination to live for himself. It was like his very existence was an anathema to her desires.
“You will not do that!” She found herself nearly hissing the words at him and silently cursing him for breaking past her much-renowned reserve with such apparent ease. Again.
“No disrespect intended, but how are you going to stop me?” He simply replied, an eyebrow of his own now cocked.
Oh, there were a myriad of ways she could, and should, inflict upon him to enforce her will.
“This is ridiculous! I should just grab his mind and force-...no. That will not work. Twilight would notice, and I don't know enough about what makes him think to successfully rewrite his consciousness like that.” Suddenly, her stomach turned. Her thoughts had taken a particularly dark turn.
That bothered her.
It was a habit growing with increasing regularity, and she did not like it. Pausing, she assessed the situation.
He had her. As the saying went, he had her over a barrel and was tightening the chains.
“Alright.” She said stiffly. “If that is what you wish…”
“Honestly, I don't.” He interrupted again. “But I feel you are using her as the proverbial cudgel over my head to keep me compliant.” He shook his head. “I know that, you know, that isn't fair. For either of us.” He paused, his face screwing up in frustration. “But you are leaving me with very little in the way of options. I can't go along with this “slowly fading into the background” strategy of yours. Who knows how long it will take her to forget me.” He paused, eyes turning thoughtful. “Ya know, I just had a thought.”
Rather than trust herself to speak, she nodded for him to go ahead. Celestia was on a mane's hair trigger of snapping at him.
That also bothered her. How easily others have gotten under her fur in the last few centuries has become increasingly exponential. Where was the root of this problem? Was she simply tired after ruling alone for so long?
“This is all…distasteful, is that the word? Yeah, this is all so distasteful mostly because it is most certainly manipulation. However, what if I, instead of ending the friendship between us right now. I go with my original plan. Depart on good terms when I am of age, and you,” he gestured casually, “use that as a lesson in…what? Loss? Explain that sometimes friends just grow apart or need to go off and do their own thing for a while but they will still remain friends. That separation isn't the end.”
Opening her mouth, the sun monarch paused for a moment. Her initial reaction was outright rejection of his proposal, mostly on the grounds that he was the one suggesting it.
Yet, as she thought about it, Orion was indeed correct. It was manipulation. However, as she considered the issue, she found it wasn't too outside what she was already doing and more natural in a way that just might work to both their benefits.
“I fear I keep forgetting the fact that this colt has a very shrewd mind.”
“How would you go about this?” She found herself asking.
The pony thought for a moment. “Well, I can't just say: “Hey, I'm leaving, good luck!” He chuckled at that. “But,” he raised a finger, “I can just do what I've been doing all along.”
“Interesting,” she thought slowly. “Now I am curious: What have you been up to with my student?”
Twilight never went into too much detail about her conversations with Orion, and she had chalked it up to foals being foals and wanting a measure of secrecy in their interactions with others. However, it seems to be that this little pony had been up to something she had been left wholly in the dark of.
When she didn't respond immediately, he seemed hesitant.
“I'm surprised she hasn't told you.” Orion visibly considered for a moment before continuing, his finger tapping the side of his muzzle. “I've been telling her for years that once I graduate, I'm traveling the world.” He shook his head. “I think she thinks I'm joking, but I really haven't been, and I've been increasingly reminding her of that.” Spreading his hands, he put on a serious expression. “So you see, I've already put down the groundwork. All I have to do is keep reminding her in a very natural way of my plans for my future.”
“And when the time comes for you to leave, the sting will not be so terrible an ache for her.” She finished.
“And, and!” He gestured wildly. “You can turn it into another of those famous lessons she always talks about.” He smirked. “A win-win for both of us.”
Once again, Orion Falls had proven to be ahead in the race. Though, this one felt more like a happy coincidence. Yet, she could not deny the merits of such a plan.
“I'm not happy with you, Orion.” She said after more than a few moments of consideration. “Regardless if you refuse to accept responsibility, ponies were hurt by your decision.”
“And I feel terrible that happened. Really, I do.” He was oddly calm now, in a way she hadn't ever seen before. An air of maturity she couldn't quite fathom had taken root within him. “But ultimately, I didn't ask for escorts.”
Before she had entered, she had cornered Cadence to find out what aura the pony was exuding, knowing full well that the Princess of Love had seen fit to confront him in some way. Honestly, glaring down on him from on high had been likely the best scenario. The pink mare was not happy, but confronting him physically would have likely stirred a scandal not easily put down.
“There is a lot of anguish within him. Self-loathing, too.” Cadence had replied slowly to her questioning, confusion on her face. “Acceptance of that self-loathing. Did he learn of what happened to Shining and his team already?”
Celestia had been very careful not to scoff at the mare’s inquiries. Conversations always came back to that stallion when she was involved. Always.
“No. As far as I am aware, he knows nothing of the force sent after him. Silver Bell reported as much a little while ago.” Having the soldier question the proprietress about anything he might have said or known had been thorough. He merely knew he had to come home after Grace Fairheart had received a missive from Griffonstone.
“Hmm. Then I suspect something happened up there. Something he is not pleased with himself to have done.” The pink mare said softly. “Something, I suspect, he very much didn't want to happen.” She paused, head cocking to one side. “That's not even the half of it, I fear. Orion Falls is somehow carrying a lot of old emotional scars. The bruises on his colors…I can scarcely tell one from another, are the indication I can see.” The Princess of Love shook her head. “From what I can tell, some of those are somehow paradoxically older than himself, if that is somehow even possible.” Cadence shook her head. “I don't understand. He is the strangest pony I have ever laid eyes on.”
Celestia did not understand either. But then again, the extent of the Pink Princess’s abilities were still unknown to even her, and she had devoted substantial resources to learning the secrets to her talent and hadn't discovered much that she would allow. Could she really read a ponies age by their emotional spectrum?
“Orion, I have yet to ask this,” the Princess began slowly, likely judging his reaction, “but what happened up there?”
He froze at the question. Both annoyed that he had forgotten this likely possibility and angry at being caught flatfooted on it. He had just been congratulating himself on a job well done of manipulating someone who probably lived to see the mountains form.
On Celestia’s apparent immortality, he was beginning to believe somewhat. Unfortunately for him, her steel-trapped mind meant she remembered details. Too many of them, and with astounding accuracy. She also had a nasty habit of picking up on subtleties that most would likely want to remain unnoticed.
“Uh…yeah.” He said carefully. He remembered the spell she had cast to keep Blueblood and his adopted kin honest, and he did not doubt the spell was in play here somehow as well. Her horn remaining dark meant nothing. Wording would have to be very specific. Very carefully done. He couldn't just get out of this by lying.
“What did you do?” A scowl replaced the curious features of her face.
“I…may…have broken someone's heart.” He responded slowly, watching for any facial movement so he might predict what she was sensing. Her eyes squinted at him. “I may have…done more than just may.”
That time, she didn't react other than to ask again. “What. Did you do ?” Ice would be jealous of how cold that voice of hers was.
He sighed.
“As we are both aware, Screaming Rush is, in fact, Grace Fairheart. Twelfth in line for the Crown of Griffinstone, yada yada. You get the picture.” She nodded, and he continued. “Would have really appreciated a heads up on that one bee tee dubs, caught me totally by surprise.” He shook his head. “Worse yet, I, in our brief time together before she was swept back to the north by her Uncle, whose kind of a dick, had made a profound impact on the young hen.”
Her eyes widened, her lips quirked into an amused smile.
“Yeah, yeah.” He practically spat. “She was, and likely still is if I suspect why the end of our journey was so stiff and abrupt, in love with me.” He snorted. “Me. The fuck.”
“Language, Orion.” She remarked, and though she scowled at him still, the amusement remained in her eyes. “Go on.”
“So yeah…when we reached Neighbon…”
Celestia was surprised.
“So you used Silktail’s progeny to get her to understand there was no future for you two?” She had known of the Hen’s amorous intentions for a while now. It was easy to see in the way she wrote to him. The impression of a heart-stricken griffon was clear to anypony who read them, and she had been the recipient of more than a few of those letters herself over the centuries.
Apparently, not everypony, for Orion had been caught completely unawares.
“You've more than dabbled in the art of manipulation, Orion. I'm impressed.” She tittered. “It makes sense now how you came up with a plan to deal with Twilight and your eventual separation. You have had practice.”
“To be honest, I still feel sick over that. It was a weak ass-” He coughed, embarrassment flushing his ear tips. “I mean, cowardly thing to do. And I'm not sure she was completely fooled.” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
Allowing him a moment to himself, she gazed over him again. There was definitely something new there now. Reflected in his eyes, his posture. There had always been a hardness to him. Whenever he looked as somepony, or anything for that matter, it was always with an air of judgment and mistrust that now made her think of what Cadence had said. Bruises on his aura that seemed older than himself.
Anger.
Celestia often wondered if it was at himself or Grace Fairheart who had put him in such a mental state.
“No, this is deeper, as if he is angry at the world itself.”
It wasn't just in his eyes, though, but in the body language he subconsciously exuded as well. A taut air seems to be hanging around him at all times…distrust.
“Did something else happen?” He groaned and fixed her with a glare.
“Man, you don't let up.” He scowled, looking away. After a long moment, he spoke. “I almost died.” Celestia bolted upright and stared alarmingly at him.
“What happened?!”
“I…may have-”
“Don't hedge your words with me, Colt. What happened up there?!” She was easily taller than him, even when sitting and now with her standing she allowed herself to loom over him.
“I thought,” he chuckled nervously, sinking into the seat, “I could hunt with the soldiers while we were on the road.” He muttered. The spell didn't chime. He wasn't lying. “Did you know they got flying vipers up there? I repeat, flying poisonous snakes.”
“Venomous flying snakes, Orion.” If it was just those, then she wasn't too worried. While true Wyvern Vipers, as they were called in Equestria, were venomous, they were not that deadly. Provided, of course, one didn't fall into a nest of them.
“Yeah, that.” He gestured as if to wave the creature's existence away. “Anyway, it was a Roc that almost ate me.”
She blinked slowly. It was like she had been sucker punched. Still no chime.
“A…Roc? As in the rarely seen predatory bird?”
“Unless there is another type of boulder with wings, screaming razor-filled beak, and large claws, then yes, that fucking thing.” He snarked back.
“Language.” How she wished he would curb that tongue. “Oh, who am I attempting to deceive? He'll never be an ideal husband.” She shook her head in bewilderment, focusing on the issue at hand. “You were hunted. By a Roc?”
“Mhm.” He laughed bitterly. “I literally walked right into the damn nest while following what I thought was a game trail. Nope. According to one of the other soldiers, Rocs hunt big prey, but will drag the body once they have gotten it. While they can fly away with whatever victim is in their claws, they prefer to drag their larger meals. It softens the meat up, or so I've been told. I was following a meal trail.” He thumped his head into the back of the divan. “I should have listened, I'm a moron.”
“What ended up happening?”
“Oh, I got chased.” He stretched the “Oh” out. “If not for Grace’s guard and their long spears, I would have been caught. The thing was damned determined to get me and fast as hell.”
“I see. You imply that they made the target not worth it?”
“Yep. Porcupine of Death formation.” He laughed. “It’s effective as the thing did not want to get close to the pointy ends.” She smiled at his flippant remark. He seems to have made it through the ordeal a bit more wise, at the very least.
A knock at the door halted her next question.
“Yes?”
The door popped open, and Raven Inkwell’s head stuck in.
“Your Highness? They are here.” She shot a quick look of contempt at Orion.
“Good, I will see them shortly.” She responded. The mare had already fallen into her new role like a well-worn glove. Yet, still, she insisted on informing her of any change personally.
“So. Guess that's it?” He asked. Oh, how hopeful he looked.
“Not quite, Orion.”
Author's Note
So, yeah. We're are so back...I guess. Gonna be honest. Life was shit the past three months. I'm not going to get into a sob story, and just give you the cliff notes:
Work got very physically demanding over the past few months. I got Covid again, twice. I just found out one of my first readers, one of the first followers actually, had passed away this past year and that was a complete blow to my drive and emotions. I got sick again during Christmas(getting old sucks don't do it), and seasonal depression has just been generally kicking my ass like I owe it money.
Okay, maybe not short, but good enough. Its just been an absolutely shitty end of the year. Hopefully its all over now. I got chapters written, editing moving forward, and the end of this rewrite is coming to a close. Soon I can start on the next book and be done with all this horseshit.
To those who stuck around waiting on my slow ass to get moving again. Thank you. New readers? Welcome to the shitshow!
Let's roll folks!
Thanks for Reading. Peace!
P.S. How was your Holiday season? Let me know below! And Happy Freakin' New year!
“Ahhhh…crap,” Orion muttered, settling himself back into the couch with a scoff.
He wasn't really getting better at curbing his language around the High Princess, but he liked to think he had improved somewhat. By now, he would have dropped at the very least eight F-bombs. The raised eyebrow at his dismay was uncalled for.
“There's more?” The black pony groaned, getting a flash of a rather strange imperious smile from the monarch before she returned to a neutral expression.
“Orion, do you really believe this has been the only issue that I have observed from you? Your departure to Griffonia, regardless of whether or not the law allows for such a thing, is only the tip of the troubles you have been causing.”
Celestia resumed her straight-backed position on the edge of the couch, pushing aside one envelope for another. This one bore his name in golden writing on the cover and edge of the faux leather. It was thick and heavy-looking. She flipped it open.
“Disciplinary reports from school.” She went on. “Noted interactions within the boundaries of Mrs. Evergarden's orphanage with impressionable young foals.” She began, flipping through the sheets within, stopping here and there to look at him as she jabbed a finger at various points of interest.
He, of course, defended himself.
“Hey, I'm a legend there!” He protested. “It gives the little ankle biters something to tell stories to one another and-”
A ghost of a smile flickered on her lips that caught him mid-sentence. “I am aware of the hidden away…lore…that involves you, Orion.” She paused, her gaze hardening as she looked up from his file. “Rudeness to nobility. Which in some circumstances I can understand, yet this includes your often blatant disregard for my position.” She tsked at him. “As of now, it seems no amount of Etiquette Class has been able to curb your almost zealot-like behavior for impropriety.”
“Ah…” He paused, unsure of what to say to all that. “Really?”
“Orion, even in this conversation, you have not spoken to me with the deference my station holds.” Diamonds couldn't compete on the Mohs Scale with how hard she glared at him with that last statement. “I now believe the issue lies within your environment.”
“Wait. Is she really going to toss me in jail?” Another thought flitted through his mind. “Or banish me to another city?”
Either option would be terrible, but at least he could handle the city transfer. A thought flickered in his mind.
“Mrs. E looked pretty upset about something before I left…oh shit. Could Sun Cheeks here have already begun what…whatever this is?”
There was another knock at the door, and her horn glowed, enveloping the door in her magic. However, she had yet to open it. Gazing into his eyes, she gave him an appraising look.
“I have taken great consideration in how to address these ongoing problems. I believe I have found a solution that will achieve my goals admirably without upsetting you too much and actually facilitate a better environment for you to mature in.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “BOOTCAMP?!” He blurted out.
Celestia cocked her head and nodded, the smile was back. “I had considered that as well, but no. I've found a much more structured solution to the issues that are…you.”
Her horn glowed brighter, and the door to the sitting room opened.
In stepped the familiar form of Raven Inkwell. The business suit she wore seemed to have been ironed onto her frame, and the severe set of her jaw looked like it could cut glass.
“You may enter, " she intoned once she had moved to the right behind the Princess and turned to the door.
The next to arrive were three ponies Orion had never seen before. Two mares and a stallion. All unicorns, all dressed to impress.
The soft yellow stallion that led the way, which was a surprise considering what he knew of cultural norms, was tall and wore a simple business suit. While not cheap in the slightest, the beige jacket paired well with the green slacks he wore. The undershirt was a simple white with no tie, leaving the collar unbuttoned at the neck. His sky-blue mane was equally as simple, brushed just enough to have order but otherwise left to hang loose over one side of his neck.
The mares that followed him, one green with a deeper blue mane done in a braid, and the other red with a purple and gold streaked mess that looked like she had just rolled out of bed.
Both wore equally simple beige dresses. On the hems of their outfits, little details of gold string stitching depicted what he could only guess was some type of wind pattern. The stallion’s suit didn’t share in those.
Another detail stood out. All three had grey eyes.
“Um…okay, uh…what's going on?” He asked, a sinking suspicion growing in his stomach.
“Orion, this is Clipper Line,” the High Princess pointed to the stallion, who nodded graciously to her. They all had bowed when entering, but now that they were being acknowledged, they each gave another heap of respect as she named them. “His first wife, Emerald Bowspirit.” The green one smiled slightly. “And lastly, Free Beam.” The purple one gave him an appraising, almost challenging look. “These are the Shipwrights.”
“Uh, hi.” He said nervously. Inside, his skin crawled.
“Do not tell me…”
“Clipper Line, ladies, this is Orion Falls. The colt we have been speaking about these last few weeks.”
“Thank you, your Highness,” Clipper said, his slightly gravelly voice making Orion take more notice of him. There was a scar on his neck near the base of the throat. The others chose not to speak yet but nodded their heads anyway.
The black pony remained silent, now almost certain what was happening and not liking it at all.
Taking the silence as his cue to break the ice, Clipper Line smiled. “Good afternoon, Orion. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Not so sure it is to make yours.” He replied slowly, shooting a look at Celestia. “Are you serious?”
The red mare, Free Beam, eyes widened in surprise. “Forgive me, your Highness.” She said, her voice surprisingly light with more than a hint of amusement sprinkled in. “I know you spoke of his…boldness before, but I must confess I only half believed you.”
“That is alright. Orion is…a special pony.” Celestia remarked dryly, earning a heated glare from the named individual in the room.
“You can't be serious.” He stated more firmly.
“This is not really a surprise, Free. Remember the papers? There's a nice exposé on him in the Canterlot Press done just last year.” Emerald finally spoke, mirth in her musical tone. “And then there is, of course, all that the Princess has told us about.”
“Hello? Talkin’ here.” He did not shout, but he was getting angry. They ignored him.
“I never imagined he would be so tall, though.” The green mare went on, touching the stallion’s arm. “Honey, I believe he has an inch or two on you!”
Clipper grinned. “Your Highness, forgive me for asking this, however, he is still only fifteen, yes?”
“Yes, he is.”
“My, he may very well outgrow you!” Despite the deep baritone of his voice, the stallion sounded excited. Celestia simply laughed.
His first instinct was to shout. To rage at what was happening. Instead, he sat back and waited. Arms tightly crossed. He was bound and determined to keep his cool as best he could.
New leaf and all that.
They continued to converse over his head, pointing out little details they could find on him, like the spiral pattern on his horn and the clothing choices he had made at the beginning of the day.
He had chosen a green shirt with black slacks this morning, and now, as Emerald Bowspirit cooed at the color choice, he suppressed the growl of frustration that rose in his throat and regretted dressing entirely.
After a while, Celestia spoke up. “Orion, I think you have already puzzled out why they're here.” She said calmly.
“Yeah, about ten seconds after y'all started running your mouths.” Clipper’s eyes narrowed at him for the first time. “Yeah, get used to reacting like that, buddy.”
“Orion.”
“No. Don't Orion me, Princess.” The attempt to control his temper had just flown out the window. “This is ridiculous! And insulting.” He pointed at the party of three. “Adoption?! That's your grand solution?!”
Celestia took a deep breath, exhaling as the others, minus Raven, who just glared at him, looked alarmed at his behavior.
“Clipper Line is, as his family name has no doubt made you aware, a Shipwright.” She gave him a fixed stare, challenging him to interrupt her again. When he didn't, she nodded and went on. “Their entire family are all shipwrights, in fact. Though perhaps air shipwrights is a more apt term for their particular profession.”
Celestia paused for a moment, then nodded for him to speak. Something in his eyes must have given away that he was about to blow his top.
“Alright, cool. At least they are doing something useful. Unlike…what was that family who did all the speaking events,” his mind drifted back to the cobwebbed recesses of his memories, “the…Deftones? Was that it?” He tapped the side of his muzzle and didn't notice the Princess's look of surprise nor the action he had just performed. “Eh, doesn't matter.” He shot another glare at her. “What does is the fact that you think anyone can give me “structure” as you call it.”
Free had leaned down to near eye level with him and gave him a smirk.
“Now, I do not want you to take this the wrong way, but we have been warned about your stubbornness.” Her grey eyes challenged his own, and his already angered countenance jumped ten degrees hotter. “And-”
He barked a laugh in her face.
“Mare,” he said between laughs and refrained from another term altogether, “I have starved in the streets of Stalliongrad. I have been subjected to soap in my mouth over every naughty word I ever spoke when I was fresh off the boat.” He cocked his head. “Airship, actually. I was made to go hungry for bad behavior. Hell, I've even almost died a couple of times now.” His face darkened as his gaze pinned Free Beam where she stood. Her expression spoke volumes about how big the pile of shit she had stepped in really was. “I do not believe you have the balls to try and punish me in a way that will achieve any reasonable objective other than to piss me off.” He used a big word to get his point across, and the mare before him goggled.
“Orion!” Celestia snapped, yanking him away with telekinesis.
“Well, exxcusssee me, Princess.” Fury built in his throat, his control of his attitude slipping even further than it already had. That challenge had gotten under his skin so fast he hardly realized the spite roaring to prominence in his head till it was already too late. “You may have told them what to expect, but there is a reason I avoided adoptions like the plague. As you have said before, this is the tip of what it's like to deal with me. ” Venom dripped from his tone as he squared off with the monarch. “Anyone crazy enough to think they can control me is in for a rude awakening.”
Clipper and his wives' faces were a comical painting of shock, that he could only barely see from his periphery. “Good, the sooner they get the picture, the sooner I can go back home, eat something and pass out. This shit is stupid as fuck, and I'm well past caring about my attitude. I can try again tomorrow.”
Orion figured that this family of hopefuls would soon have whatever hopes they had dashed by the mere fact that he was a complete asshole and not afraid to show it.
What he hadn't anticipated was Celestia leaning over and snatching his ear in a vice grip that pulled him to his hooves.
“Orion.” She said stiffly, heat from her pouring over him. “My patience for your little outburst is wearing quite thin.”
“Oh, you might as well rip my ear off!” He growled back. Even Raven looked slightly taken aback by that statement as the Princess’s eyes bore into his with shock.
Silence fell. The High Princess was being matched glare for glare by a colt now standing on the very tips of his hooves as he was nearly hauled by his ear over the coffee table.
“Princess,” Clipper said pleadingly. “I now see what you mean by how easily he can get under a pony's fur.” He turned to Orion. The white mare had yet to let go of his ear, and the way her fingers tightened, there was a good chance she was actually considering his offer. “Orion, I'm sorry if it seems as if we are attempting to force your compliance.” He shot a withering look at Free Beam, and the mare, both alarmed by what was happening and embarrassed, looked away. “I fear that while my wife always has good intentions, she sometimes comes across as a little rough.”
Finally, Celestia relinquished her grip, and the black pony sat back, ignoring the pain that throbbed in his ear, and turned to face the stallion. The left side of his face now felt like it had been placed under a sunlamp.
“Then what? What is the point? What is it that you want?”
“To provide you with a home,” Clipper said simply, softly. Orion blinked slowly.
“He can't be serious.”
“Okay, that…that does not compute. What do you mean: “Provide me with a home?” He was beginning to think this pony was slow or something.
“We mean that we want to provide you with a place where you will feel safe, Orion,” Emerald spoke up. “What we have read, well…” she faltered, eyes slightly watering, “you have not had the easiest life. Judging by what you've said of your past, I…I can't even imagine.”
“Sorry if I said something to upset you.” Murmured Free, “It wasn't my intention to make you think we were going to punish you at every little outburst or slight.”
“Orion,” Clipper Line picked up the inside conversation again, “My wives and I are of the mind that punishing you will not get us anywhere.” He chuckled. “I imagine you see yourself as an adult.”
It wasn't a question, but it seemed like it was looking for an answer anyway.
“For the most part, yes.” Orion simply responded, wondering where this was going.
“Then, I feel, and Emerald and Free as well, that we should regard you as such.” He shook his head. “I do not expect you to call us your parents or demand affection from you.” He smiled. “All we wish is to provide you with shelter and, perhaps, stimulating conversation.”
The human-turned-colt regarded the family with suspicion before turning his head to Celestia. “You offered them a tax break or something?”
Free burst out laughing as, for the second time in his life, he saw something remarkable. A repeat event. Princess Celestia blushed. Just the tips of her ears, but it was there nevertheless.
“N-no, Orion.” She paused and snorted, trying to wipe away her anger from her face. “I did…well, I did, and they rejected it.” His eyes widened before glancing nervously at them.
“Y'all on drugs?” He questioned. Getting a scowl from Emerald.
“No, we are not.” She said primly.
“A cult?” He asked.
“No, colt. I wouldn't even know where to begin finding and joining one.” Free Beam replied humor in her voice.
Orion took a moment to consider them.
There, the three stood; they had not been offered or taken a seat this entire time, and yet they did not seem unhappy about it. They just waited on him and his response. He also regarded the Sun Princess in the room, trying and failing to peer past the mask she wore once more. The slight blush was likely all he was going to get out of her.
With a sigh, he realized he needed to reign himself in. His emotions were all over the place, and he was certain that no matter what happened today, he was no longer going to be living under Mrs. Evergarden's roof.
“Princess,” he began, slow and unsure, “why now? Why do this at all? At best, they have a few years to put up with me. At worst, it'll be a living nightmare as they deal with whatever crap I send their way. So why?”
“Orion,” she said softly, “do you know of the whispers about Mrs. Evergarden's orphanage?” Celestia began flipping pages in his records once more.
“Can't say I've ever heard any.” He frowned. “Judging by your tone, however, it's got something to do with me, though, I'm sure.” Finally, he allowed his hand to drift to his ear, rubbing it gingerly. “My God, lady, you got that gorilla grip.” He flashed a slight impish grin at her.
Celestia deadpanned at him, and he sighed. Perhaps then, there was not the time to be a perv. She returned to the folder.
“You are correct that the rumors are indeed about you.” She shook her head. “It is said that Mrs. Evergarden is unable to control you, that you torture the foals. That is why they are so grateful and eager to find homes. That it is you, and not her, that runs the orphanage.” He winced at that past one.
“I take it those…are the tame ones.” Orion tiredly said. “That's why she had so many brats running around the building when I got back, isn't it? Those silly ass rumors.”
“It is true, the latest adoption drive that she attempted had not yielded the most promising of results.” Her look turned stoic. “Did you not notice? The last Parent Week in which you were in attendance had many of the adopters coming in from out of the city.”
He had, in fact, noticed that many potential families had come from mostly farming communities, a great turn from the usual folks of unicorn origins. That wasn't to say no one outside the city adopted; the norm was that locals had first dibs on adoption proceedings, then more rural communities. It was the reverse in this case.
“Yeah.” He hung his head. Had he really been causing that much trouble for Daisy? Being an ass wasn't the only apparent crime he had inflicted on the poor Matron.
Or was this a ploy to get him to go along with the Princess’s scheme? He watched her wearily, seeking a gap in her metaphorical armor.
Nothing.
It didn't feel like a scheme, and all those foals he had counted upon his return took up the majority of Mrs. E's available living space. By this time, a new crop of foals was brought in every year in the past. But he knew many of the kids' faces, if not names, that were still there. There had been far too many.
“Shit.”
The black pony turned his gaze on the family of shipwrights once more. “Couldn't help but notice the gray eyes and the chosen family profession.” He remarked dryly. “Nice touch.”
“Your interests were taken into consideration for this. Orion, from what I have learned, you have a shelf dedicated and stuffed quite full of airship paraphernalia.” She gave a delicate shrug. “I suspect that if you were to go to a home, one that held interest for you in terms of occupation would have more success than one you would consider beneath you.”
“It's not that I would consider anyone's career path…beneath me,” he smirked, “save for “organized speaking eventers”, but that I don't have too much interest outside of traveling.” He smirked. “I turned down royalty after all.”
That got a raised eyebrow from Emerald Bowspirit, and she and her husband shared a confused look.
This was all so ridiculous. The urge to fight, to argue, shit, just to throw something, was almost overwhelming. But a small voice in the back of his head reminded him of all his failures in Griffonia. Of what almost happened and how he had made a resolution to be a better person. Of his current behavior and how he failed to improve that resolution.
Worse. He feared he would be saddled with something worse than these people should somehow manage to balk at Celestia's demands.
“These people don't deserve my anger.” He thought unhappily.
They didn't deserve his love either. That went without saying. Yet they deserved at least common courtesy from him, if nothing else. They were apparently willing to go through hellfire without an apparent reward.
Taking a deep sigh, he asked his most pressing question with difficulty. “What would change?” he ignored the Princess's scowl. Should I move in with you?”
“If we're being honest, I do not believe there would be much. All we do ask is that you join us for family dinners when you're ready, of course, and not to be a ghost in our halls.” Clipper replied, his expression uncomfortably hopeful.
“That's it?” Orion prodded.
“Well, there may be issues that crop up from time to time that may bother us. However, I like to think that we will come together as a family and acquaintance to discuss and find viable solutions to ordinary problems.” It seemed as if Clipper Line had been chosen to be their voice in these negotiations.
“Huh.” That wasn't too shabby an offer.
“What about coming and going? I sometimes like to just randomly pop in and out of the orphanage at will. I'm expecting to be curtailed somewhat on that with you.” He waved his hands in the air to forestall their first remarks. “I'm not saying I go days at a time without actually being at the orphanage; I just say that once school is over, I typically like to do my own thing. Also, I have friends in Ponyville that I would like to continue to see.”
“And that will be something we will have to discuss. We do have a curfew for our daughters, and we expect you to abide by a curfew of your own. Despite how grown you consider yourself, you are still only fifteen years old.” Clipper shrugged. “If we have the family's name and contact information of your friends, then I would see no issue so long as it does not interfere with school.”
“Dare I ask what you have in mind for the former?”
“Nothing, two onius,” Emerald replied. “Just that you're in before nightfall and in bed at a reasonable hour. Our daughters are impressionable at this point in their lives, and we would rather dislike you setting a poor example for them.”
“What the hell did that mean?”
Ignoring that, he asked one last important question. “What are you hoping to get out of all this? What is in it for you?”
“We have thought about that.” Clipper began, but Free Beam butted in a grin so wide it practically broke her face in two.
“Why, we would be known as the herd that tamed the untamable!” For the first time, he noticed that her teeth were not the standard pony fare.
“Okay, I may be missing something here, and I certainly shouldn't be the one saying this myself, but what the hell is going on with your teeth?” He blurted out in surprise.
“Oh!” She responded with a grin. “An ancestor of mine married a thestral and had foals.” She pointed at her chest, and Orion noticed her arm bulged appreciatively. That dress of hers did an amazing job hiding her more buff exterior. “I'm the product of that. Don't worry,” she grinned wickedly, “as far as I know, I haven't drained anypony of blood.” She laughed. “Yet.”
Emerald sighed, giving her sister-wife a withering glare. “No, but every morning, we have to send for more fruits.” Turning to the black colt, she spoke. “What we get out of this is knowing a colt that has gone on without a home for years will now have one.” She said softly. “Orion, in an orphanage with a constantly fluctuating population of foals, I imagine you are largely ignored.”
“Kinda, but I can't say I don't like it that way.” He admitted. “It's easier for me.”
“And that is the shameful part. Perhaps this is a bit old-fashioned in thinking, but I do not believe that a colt should be subjected to that no matter how much they like it that way.”
It was old-fashioned in thinking. But if they were being honest with what they were saying and intending, it was at least touching.
“How many kids you got?”
“Kids?” Clipper asked, confused. “As in goats?”
“Ah, shit. I'm going to have to educate y'all on my chosen vernacular.” Orion chuckled. “ I mean, how many foals you got? Kids are slang for offspring.”
“Oh!” Free smiled. “We have three. All fillies.”
“Well, that's gonna be trouble.”
“Great.” He dragged out the word. “Ages? Names?”
“Well, our oldest, Ocean Keel, is fourteen.” Emerald ticked off with her fingers. “Star Board is thirteen. The second is born from my womb.” Orion very carefully did not wince. This mare had an odd way of speaking that left him feeling like he had traveled back in time quite
“The last one is Ember Port, also hers.” Free Beam interrupted. “She's fourteen too but was born a week late.” She chuckled. “Doesn't like to be reminded of that, so watch your hooves around her.”
He gave a weak smile, wondering how a twin could manage to be born a week late. “I'll endeavor to remind her at every chance I get.” That pulled a laugh from the mare. He frowned and turned to Celestia, who had been quiet yet wore a rather pleased look on her face. “You pulled out the stops for this one, didn't you?”
“I shall confess, this has not been easy. The Shipwrights had only recently moved to Canterlot, and after the interview, I believed they were perfect for the unadoptable pony, Orion Falls.”
“Oh, yes. Big smug for madam.” He groaned. He was actually considering this. Rubbing his face, he stared at the floor. “Truth is, I don't have a choice. Celestia is hellbent on this happening regardless of whether I want to or not. If I try and reject, I think she'll make it a court order or some such bullshit, and again, I won't have a choice.” He looked at the three ponies that stood in front of him. Their faces are a mix of worry, hopefulness, and confidence. “They don't even understand. How can they? They're not adopting a fifteen-year-old pony, but a grown-ass forty-three-year-old man.”
His thoughts turned to Daisy Evergarden. If what the Princess had said was true, that mare had gone through more than just putting up with his occasional dickishness. She had been shouldering the burden of taking care of a stubborn jerk who scared the foals enough for them to leave warnings about pissing him off in little cubby holes and old notebooks. That wasn't a legend. It was a haunting, no matter how he tried to dress it up.
“Ugh…I'm such a shithead.” He closed his eyes. “Not that I suspect I have much choice in this, but fine. But I reserve the right to return to the orphanage should this not work out, and I end up hanging the entire lot of you by the cannons outside your home. Are we clear?”
“Orion, I think you'll find yourself in my dungeons if you do that.” Celestia gave him a stern glare.
“Relax, Sunnyside. That was a joke.”
Celestia pushed all the files she had brought with her back into an ordered stack, redone the binding strings, and then sat on her seat and thought for a minute.
Orion Falls had been oddly subdued during their interview. Even with the arrival of the Shipwrights, his explosive nature never truly appeared save for but a moment, and he reeled that back in just as quickly as it had come. That was odd to the ancient Alicorn. Odd for the black pony that had caused her so much trouble in recent years.
“He wasn't as…combative as I had thought he would be,” Raven said quietly, half to herself.
“Orion spoke of almost dying.” The High Princess spoke up.
“Really, your Highness?”
“Yes,” she paused and nodded a bit, “a Roc nearly ended him. I believe that was a sobering experience for our young wayward colt.”
“Perhaps, though one would think the Timberwolves would have done that.” Raven Inkwell fought a grin and lost. Celestia couldn't help but chuckle herself. “So, will he learn his place? Finally?”
“That remains to be seen, Raven. But if this meeting is anything to go by, I believe we have begun to see his course alter here. His attitude, however, may have begun its shift before now.” She shook her head, dispelling thoughts of the pony. “Speaking of Rocs and beasts, what news from Griffonia?”
The secretary mare coughed and straightened herself.
“As of this morning, we have gotten vague but plentiful reports that an urgent Council meeting has been called between all the High Nobles of Griffonia.” She pulled a slip of paper from her sleeve and handed it to Celestia. “As of now, we do not know what the contents of that meeting will entail.” She frowned. “Griffonian informational security is still vexingly effective. Other than that, we have little to go on.”
The Princess stood and paced, reading over the scant information on the page before it burst a light in her hands, her horn’s glow quickly winking out as fast as it had come.
“Nothing?” She did not snap; the mare was good at her job, and she had learned long ago not to abuse her best. Good help did not, in fact, pop up with every generation.
“No, your Highness.” Raven shook her head. “We have been unable to ascertain any new information.” She blinked. No, wait. Forgive me, your Highness. There is one notable absence from the meeting, two actually. Grace Fairheart is still in Neighbon as of two days ago. She seems to be staying within the Silktail residence. This would be her second trip to Neighbon in as many weeks.”
“And the other?” Grace Fairheart didn't matter. Her status was less a concern and more of an addendum to the broader scope of Griffon politicking.
“Margaret Rosebreast is missing. Has been missing for three days. We are not sure why. Most of her house is confused, not knowing what to do or who to send in her place if somepony could even replace her at all.” She shook her head. “There were reports of a battle of some sort, but nothing substantive. The hen has done a fine job in weeding out potential rivals to the point there is no pony but her now with any real power in her family line. Or to give accurate information.”
Celestia had met the hen once when she was still coming into her role as head of her house. Cunning, brilliant, and entirely too obsessed with restoring her family to the Crown of Griffonia. A foolish creature who desired power with none of the preparation needed to ensure her base of power was secure. In her course of securing her title and authority, it was more luck than skill that won the day for her, and she left many behind who now plotted bitterly for her fall.
The white mare stopped pacing, eyes narrowing.
“Do we have a report on Prince Gerhard?” She asked.
“Yes. Through Princess Cadence, we have been able to get a full report from Lieutenant Shining Armor.” Another page appeared. From a pocket this time, it was neatly folded up and handed to her quickly.
Celestia’s magenta orbs danced over the note quickly.
“It seems they are to break away from the main host. I was under the impression that Gerhard would make straight for the capital after their victory at Fort Bulwark.”
“The intelligencers had believed the same at the time. However, Shining Armor's report indicates they are pursuing a course toward the province of Icewall.”
“To Icewall?” She thought furiously. “Why would they journey…wait, battle?”
“Oh…Sigurd, you sly, sly drake.” She whispered aloud.
“Your Highness?” Raven had stepped forward, bold of the mare, but she could see worry in her eyes, and this wasn't a formal setting.
“Sigurd Bloodbeak means to crush Margaret Rosebreast, likely already has, and her absence is not a product of her trying to remain hidden. I believe he might have discovered something that can lead to an all-out dissolution of one of the great houses.” A small smile graced her lips. “He already has her in the castle dungeons as we speak.”
“Ruthless, my dear drake. Very ruthless.”
“That has not been done in several centuries, my Princess.” There was a note of appreciation in her secretary’s voice.
“You are correct. It has not been since the loss of their prime industry that there has been an event like this. One I am growing more certain of by the minute. It must be substantial whatever he found.” She shook her head. “That griffon would not violate the Rules of Return unless it was tantamount to treason itself.” Perhaps Grace Fairheart had a larger role in all of this after all.
“I must remind you then, Princess, that Rosebreast had been purchasing the use and time of pony mercenaries lately.”
Celestia nodded at that. This had been a recent development, one that she was unsure how to regard. If that foolish hen was going to attempt to create a false flag, a casus belli to be precise, it would take more than a force of five hundred, even if they were all unicorns.
“What news on that band of cutthroats?” If they were no longer in play, then it stood all the more reason that Sigurd had truly found something game-changing.
“Nothing, your Highness.” The High Princess watched her subordinate’s eyes dart back and forth, her mind at work. “They departed heading northeast and then vanished from public scrutiny. Our agents have not been ordered to follow, as their assignment had been to remain in the capital. We can't afford to lose the only two that hadn't been sniffed out.”
That was true. The last one to have been caught had her throat slit and delivered to her balcony doorstep decades ago. How they had managed it she wished she knew. They had somehow gotten close enough to her without drawing the attention of the guard, the corpse on her divan.
Despite her disgust, she had decided that very day to employ thestrals to her guard detail in the evening. She loathed having them so close as recent years had proven them untrustworthy in her eyes.
The surge of Luna’s old cult was certainly something she did not wish to deal with in this laughably modern age. Though, to call it hers is certainly a stretch, considering her sister did her best to squash the wretched group long ago.
Still, she had to take a risk, and it wasn't like they were strong enough to harm her. If not for the image of being untouchable, she would not even need them. But the stunt the Griffons played was a slight on her reputation, and it would not happen again.
“So we have a vanishing force of unicorn mercenaries that headed northeast, Gerhard, who is beelining directly toward Icewall, and Rosebreast, who has gone missing entirely.” She chuckled. “I smell a conspiracy, Raven. I believe our dear Margaret has overplayed her hand in some event. We have yet to know the contents of, and have had no time to cover her tracks or run.”
“New orders, Ma'am?” Her secretary asked.
“Yes, I shall give them directly to the intelligencers myself. Inform them of my arrival.”
“At once, your Highness!” Excited, Raven Inkwell rushed from the room. It was rare for the mare to get to such a state. Yet, Celestia found something in the pony that she shared in equal measure. The excitement of political intrigue itself. In her long, long years of living, nothing appealed to her quite like predicting the movements in other nations.
Her tongue danced over her lips. It had been quite a while since she felt that spark.
“Perhaps I should take a look at the list.” If this all ended up being as stimulating as she suspected it would be, she was going to need a release, and soon.
Orion frowned at the house.
“No, it's a goddamn mansion. I thought these fuckers were shipbuilders! Not nobles!”
In contrast to Rarity's garishly colored home, the boxy, horseshoe-shaped structure was done in what he could only call Victorian-era Gothic.
The roof peaks were high, but they squared off, mixing slate shingles, iron caps, and strange fencing that spread throughout the massive complex rooftop in unorganized squares.
The walls had been painted a sandstone color, with high, narrow windows that framed balconies with iron railings. Trellises that looked to be painted green turned out to bear climbers of honeysuckle. Small flowers blossomed on the vines. There was another plant he wasn't familiar with, and had no flowers to identify it. It was intermixed with the honeysuckle, but it all gave a warm, welcoming feeling despite the depressing gothic structure itself.
“Of course, you're rich.” He groaned. Emerald Bowspirit came up beside him.
“Well, we are nobility, after all. The Shipwrights has been a name of honor in Manehattan for centuries. In fact, much of our family still resides there.” She cocked her head and sighed. “We had been selected to open a workshop here. Largely due to our experience in airship building.” Another sigh escaped her. “I am so going to miss Artisanal’s pastries.”
“Oh, wonderful, they are nobles. Missed that little fact, didn't ya, Celestia? You great white bitch!”
“I don't like nobles much either, Orion,” Clipper said, a bit of distaste tainting his tone.
“What?” He asked, confused.
“Your face when Emerald mentioned our status.” He chuckled. “I don't like them much either.”
“Oh.” He responded simply. “Why?”
“Because they have this need to take from everypony around them.” Free Beam spat. “Back home, there was often strain between us and rival ship makers. Which, you know, would be fine except the fact that instead of a healthy rivalry, they would try to use the law to curb or cut off each other's right to business.”
“Wait, so instead of just coming up with a better product, they chose to use lawfare to get what they wanted?” It was nice to see his disgust for nobility shared with others, but strange that it was coming from some of the nobles themselves.
“Yes.” Clipper picked up again, gesturing to them to follow after Emerald as she rushed to the great iron and glass doors herself. Behind were more doors, tall arched things of stained oak that served as the main entryway to the tiled foyer within. “It has gotten so bad that many smaller craftsponies have uprooted themselves from the pier and moved on to more promising fields.” He tsked in vexation. “The wharves there now look like a ghost town, and those who would purchase from them are now forced to rent from the larger, more powerful businesses. And those prices are not cheap.”
“Well, now, don't that sound familiar?” Before he was so unceremoniously dumped in this odd world, recent lawsuits had been filed to get coffee beans to be largely handled by mega-sellers such as Starbucks and Tim Hortons. The reasoning cited was the potential hazard small companies posed to public health through improper care of the product. The quality of control was not up to industry standard, or so the filing claimed. He had no idea if that had succeeded or not, as he was soon shuffled out of Genpop and into isolation with his trial date coming up.
“So why come here?” He asked, shouldering his bags and following after them.
He had been given a few days to say his goodbyes. Mrs. Evergarden had been a mess of tears and snot, the latter of which she left a heaping amount on his shoulder as she wept. He had finally given his crepe recipe over to Mr. Dumpling, but he thought the old stallion may have just torn it up after he left. The man looked like he was fighting back a wall of emotion himself.
The kids gave off some serious Children of the Corn vibes. All of them watching from the stairs and windows. Not saying a damn word.
“It must have been like watching a monument fall.” He thought a bit bitterly at the time.
But the good news is that he had a whole extra week off from school to get acquainted with his new living situation.
Free tried to take one of the bags from him, but he was carrying four, so he just shook his head and continued on. He had chosen to physically carry the luggage in part to demonstrate they were not just welcoming a unicorn into their home, but a strong near stallion that would not take their shit should they give it.
“Well, it's as Emerald has said, we were selected.” He smiled. “It's a family tradition to send out at least one branch to a new market every few generations.”
“How successful is that?” Orion asked, stepping up the short stairs with little difficulty.
“Not as successful as we would like. There have been setbacks, both financial and…” The stallion paused at the door, fingers wrapped around the iron knob.
“And?” Prompted the colt.
“Whole family lines were wiped out.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “It happens from time to time. Disease, banditry, sometimes just plain bad luck depending on where we drive the stakes in.” He smiled. “However, I don't believe that will happen here. We are one of the few families that actually builds airships in this city, and the contract we currently have with the Throne has us building for the next eight years with options for renewal should our workers produce well.” He turned the knob and ushered the black pony inside.
The foyer was warm and cozy. Orion couldn't help but appreciate the green mosaic tiles depicting a garden that made up the floor of the inner chamber. Mrs. Evergarden would have loved the place.
To his left were hooks for coats and cloaks as well as a rack for shoes. A small little station of towels sat nearby those, likely in the case of muddy legs and hooves. To his right was an umbrella rack and what appeared to be a closet that he did not investigate but could guess.
“Please. Put up your shoes. We'll give you the grand tour as best we can,” Clipper said while doing just that. “Not all the rooms are available to see, not to mention if we spent our entire time going room by room, it would take all day.”
“Possibly most of the night, too!” Chimed in Free Beam with a chuckle. “Couldn't really get anything smaller. Homes on the third plate are,” she waved her hand and stuck out her tongue, “grandiose.”
Orion was starting to like the wild-haired mare. Her attitude and mane gave her a punk rock feel that he missed from his own world. Once he had gotten past her challenging nature, he found the mare was often in good spirits and quick with a joke.
Meanwhile, with observations and conversations with Emerald Bowspirit in the cramped carriage, he found that mare reminded him a bit of Mrs. Evergarden in the vaguest sense. Prim and proper, she seemed to allow nothing to get to her. But the pony could see her nervous fidgeting when she didn't think anyone was noticing.
Then there was Clipper Line. The stallion definitely led when it came to decision-making, which was not uncommon, but less so when it came to nobility. The only other family line he could think of where the stallion was in full command was that of the Bluebloods, and he doubted that anyone in that group was on the same level of intelligence that Clipper was.
In the two days leading up to his move-in, including Friday itself, the man had been inquisitive, if a bit invasive, despite his efforts to respect the black colt’s privacy to a moderate degree. Something Orion could understand and appreciate. He was the invader, after all, no matter who invited who in.
No one brought up his history, or his vernacular for that matter, other than to discuss the various meanings behind some of his words. Emerald did not like what hell meant. At all. Though, he suspected that was coming.
For the most part, this family was taking it all extremely slow.
He could appreciate that.
Placing his things by the foyer entrance, he was ushered into the grand hall. Twin staircases, on both right and left, gently sloped to the top in the shape of a U. Nestled between them was a mostly finished family tree mosaic.
The lineage was massive, and just from the brief glance he had, he had changed family names at least three times. Some were scrubbed out completely.
“Jesus, there are certainly a lot of you, aren't there?” He said, stepping up to look. “You guys were called Carpenters, Masons…wow, you were just into about anything construction-based.”
“Mhm, that's right. We still have members who go by those names. Our branch,” Free pointed to a recently added limb with six branches shooting off from it, “is from over here.”
Orion picked through the list, musing in his head whether he should say something or not.
“Ah, what the hell? Why not? We gotta live with each other.”
“I'm gonna level with ya. You all sound more like an earth pony clan than a unicorn one.” He gave them an apologetic look. “Sorry if that came out wrong.”
“No need.” Clipper waved it away. “Truth is, we are. Our family line starts with the Fossores. Those were a herd of miners in the Blackhoof Hills. Back when the tribes' war was in full swing.” He frowned. “Back then, some terrible things went on. I…uh..” He stumbled, but the black colt knew what he was implying.
“Yeah. I know. I looked into a lot of history at that time. Rape and pillage wasn't exactly a sport, but those guys and gals back then sure made a run at it anyway.” He frowned. “I'm assuming that's how the unicorn line got mixed in?”
“Yes, actually.” The yellow stallion shook his head, a bit bewildered. “It's gonna be hard to get used to that.”
Free giggled. “He sounds like one of your Gran's sailors.”
“Colt, I'd advise you not to speak that way around Emerald or the girls,” Clipper warned in a whisper. “She's touchy with what they hear.”
“Because, of course, she is.” Orion looked back at the impressive family line. “I'm not gonna have to memorize these, am I?”
“By the Tree no.” Free laughed. “I'd have never been allowed to marry Clipper had that been part of the criteria.” She grinned, poking her husband. “Though this fella somehow knows every single one!”
He swatted back in turn, amusement, and annoyance intermixed on his face.
“Stop it, Free. You know it's my responsibility as Patriarch. It was my duty and honor to learn.”
The human-turned pony watched the pair light-heartedly bicker with one another, a small smile on his lips.
“They're not too bad.” A frown washed over him. “But I can't trust these people. Celestia boxed me into this, but that doesn't mean I can open up to anyone.”
“Something wrong?” Free asked. Both were looking at him now, and he coughed awkwardly.
“Naw just stuck in my own head.” Waving off their concerns, he spoke to change the subject. “So, what say you to giving me that grand tour? Gotta be some dark secret you've yet to uncover here.”
“Has he settled in?” Emerald asked as her fingers danced to put her mane up into curlers. She liked the ringlets these contraptions gave her, but hated how heavy they made her head feel, that's why she chose to only use them at night, where she could rely on the pillow to share some of the burden “He seemed oddly quiet during dinner.”
Orion Falls had been engaging and alert for almost the entirety of the day. Yet, when the conversation lulled during the evening meal, he became withdrawn, stirring the Prench Chestnut soup listlessly and staring off into the ether.
According to Free, the tour had gone well. The black colt had taken great interest in the Atrium, her own personal joy of the mansion. The greenhouse had been the selling point for her, and she had begun filling it with as much greenery as she could stuff into it, as the budget would allow, of course. Her husband jokingly called it “Her Jungle”.
Still, Orion had begun slowly withdrawing in on himself throughout the night. To the point of nonverbal communication when they showed him his rooms. The only thing he had to say to i was, “This is way too much for me.”
It was a simple three-room residence, like one she herself had when she was a foal in Manehattan.
Yet, that was it. He bid them goodnight and shut the door.
Clipper spoke up, drawing back the covers of their massive bed as he did so.
“Yes, I checked on him a bit ago, he's still awake, organizing his rooms a bit.” He shook his head. “He had a good chunk of the furniture piled in a corner. Not sure why that is, but he was still awake, writing in a journal at his desk.”
“Probably didn't like the pieces we chose.” Free said with a shrug, coming out of the bath with a towel wrapped around the top of her mane and little else. “I think I saw him frown at several tables and chairs while we walked him around, and when we showed him his rooms he, heh, got a really annoyed look on his face. That colt prefers the simple things in life. I'll bet my last bit on it.”
The lone stallion in the room couldn't seem to help himself. Leaving the bed, he swept up behind his second wife and let his fingers trace over her stomach and breasts gently, eliciting a cooing sound from her lips.
“I hope you two will not be planning to keep me up tonight. We have a busy day tomorrow.” She scolded gently. “Our girls will be on the first train in the morning, and we have to pick them up.”
They had decided it was best to send their daughters out to their cousins in Manehattan so that they did not overwhelm the poor pony the first day in their home. It only really bought them a day, as they were returning home for classes that began Tuesday. The colt was getting a week’s extension from classes himself due to the change in his living conditions. They wanted to give Orion a chance to at least acclimate to their presence in his life, and the girls would be in classes of their own for most of that time.
In any event, their foals would have to be instructed to keep their distance a while longer. If they annoyed him too much, he may act on his more purported creative side and find an unusual way to punish them for their intrusion. The Princess had been very clear that the pony should not be underestimated in any way, and Emerald would not fail in that.
“Though,” she thought sourly, “I'm likely the only one to be hard on him.” She watched her sister-wife and husband with annoyance as their activities moved to the bed, already messing up the covers. “I think I'll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.”
Emerald Bowspirit did not begrudge her husband and sister-wife their indulgences, but she would have appreciated their discretion in lieu of tomorrow’s events.
They were excited, and despite her many concerns, so was she. They had a colt under their roof now. Despite the many issues that came with it, Emerald hoped with determination to pry him from his shell, and see the wonderful pony that was beneath that rough exterior.
Sighing, Orion set down his quill and sat back from his desk in the center of a now mostly empty room. It was one of three assigned to him, and this was his personal study.
His eyes fell on the well-crafted surface of the writing table, and he snorted.
“About the only reasonably suitable piece of furniture in this fucking place.” He avoided looking at the carefully stacked pile of couches, chairs, and tables in the corner. When he had first walked into his private rooms, he was appalled at the gaudy, overly dressed-up furnishings he had been provided.
In his humble opinion, they look like a kid got a hold of a bedazzler kit and went to town. When he had first laid eyes on it, he couldn't help but sneer, though he hoped he wiped it away fast enough for his hosts not to notice.
Once they left, he went and piled it high so that he could remove it all sometime tomorrow. Likely while they were out picking up their kids.
His thoughts turned away from gaudy furniture and back to his hosts.
They were a nice bunch. Trying way too hard to make him feel welcome and comfortable. He snorted again, stilling the dark chuckle that wanted to burble outward.
“It's not their fault. They have no idea what they have on their hands.” Despite his confidence, in the back of his mind, he worried.
It was one thing when he was living under the roof of Mrs. Evergarden and her Orphanage. Now that a family had willingly taken him in, there was the distinct possibility that his actions would reflect on them should anything he might do come to light.
“No. It will reflect on them, and they will lose…standing or respect or whatever the hell upper crust society used as a measuring system for value.”
He shouldn't care. That was the truth. He should not care. Yet, Celestia was right in one point, if nothing else: His actions had consequences not just on himself but also on those around him. And while he should live for himself, the stakes for others were just that much higher being associated with him.
“Fuuuuuccccckkkkk….” The abusive proclamation slipped past his lips in a whisper.
He couldn't play around anymore. Not if he was to move past his history. To prove to himself, if no one else, that he could be better than the jackass he was on earth. That he would not repeat the same mistakes. Mistakes that hurt his grandparents, mistakes that hurt countless others as he struggled through both lives.
Helping the griffons had been a start. A great start, in his opinion, despite what ended up happening.
Standing, he walked over to the stained glass window toward the rear of the room. Moonlight broke through the glass in a myriad of soft colors. It was too dark to tell what the image was, but it was pretty.
Gazing up at the warped lunar orb that hung thousands of miles away, he sighed.
“I have to do better.”
Author's Note
Good Morning, everyone!
I hope the new year is starting out with a bang for you all! Gonna keep it short as I don't have much to say. If you liked, leave a comment below. If ya didn't, leave a comment below. If it made you mildly constipated, leave a comment. If you spoke the words out loud and backwards, leave a comment. All in all, leave a comment.
Lol.
You all have a wonderful week! And I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Thanks for Reading! Peace!
The rapping noise broke Margaret Rosebreast from an uncomfortable and restless dream. The dream's contents were already eluding her clouded mind as she struggled to move or even open her eyes.
The thudding of a hammer against wood came again, louder this time and more urgent, followed by the muted buzz of noise. The babble of sounds that came to her ear slowed somewhat and resolved into voices—Griffon voices, muddied and difficult to understand.
“WE WILL HAVE ORDER!” Shouted a familiar voice that broke through the mire of her thoughts like a gale-force wind. Gruff and authoritative, it was the voice of command, a voice used to being obeyed. She knew it and loathed it, but her foggy mind wouldn't let her know why.
Margaret tried to open her eyes again and found them crusty and difficult to move. Had she been crying? A slight movement of her limbs revealed that her whole body felt the same way, as if she was swimming through tar that had only recently begun to thaw.
With a supreme exertion of will, she managed to move her upper limbs and rub her face to dislodge the crust that sealed her vision. The clink of chains startled and even alarmed her, so much so that her eyes widened in shock, tearing open with great pain as she sat bolt upright. Her wings tried to shift in panic, but she found that those, too, were restrained by metal.
Sights, colors returned slowly. She needed a great many rapid blinks to get her vision to focus, and the recent rupture of her lids throbbed painfully.
Where was she? What was all this? Why were her arms, legs, and wings bound by chains?
As sight began to return, so too did more of her hearing. The voices that had been a low babbling were now becoming a rushing wind of outrage and anger.
“BY BOREAS I WILL HAVE ORDER!” Shouted that hateful voice. Followed by the splintering of wood as the gavel head flew into her blurry vision to go skittering to a stop next to a platform that was erected in the center of what she realized was a vast chamber. With stunned numbness, she became aware that a gallows had recently been erected.
Her head swung up toward the voice in panic, and she found King Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart on an unusually large chair with a back that stretched high to the ceiling above her on a raised dais.
The chair was ornate, with rows of vines and scenes of law and judgment etched into the backing's surface. The desk that sat in front of it was equally as crafted, sharing a similar motif, save for the depiction of a griffon seated before the throne in supplication. There was no color, no gems to embellish the furnishings, only the varnish that had been applied for generations, giving its smoky reddish brown exterior. Just simple redwood that glowed softly in the firelight of torches set regularly around the chamber.
With that knowledge, Margaret recognized that desk and knew where she was. Knowing brought her no comfort.
The Urtailsplit. The Throne of Judgment. That made the chamber she found herself in the Urtail Gerichtsah , the Court of Judgment. Though the name was directed toward the chair he sat upon, the desk was included in the title.
Horror washed through her as her eyes swung back toward the gallows in the center of the chamber. One single noise hung motionless in the middle of the beam.
“T-that is meant…for me…” The realization struck terror to her core, and she cried out in horror though she had tried to stop it. A keening wail broke through her strangled throat.
Her cry did more to silence the crowd of nobles lining the stands on either side than the broken gavel that now lay upon the stone floor.
Everyone gazed upon her. Allies and Foe alike. Anger, worry, concern, contempt. She could see it all and more upon their faces.
“I see that you are awake, Margaret.” Came the much quieter, yet confident, voice of her long-time opponent. The noble hen slowly looked back at him, a small measure of disgust worming its way through her despite the fear in her belly, allowing her to gain some measure of bravado she didn't truly feel.
“Sigurd!” She spat. Her throat hurt, and her beak was dry. “What is the meaning of this?!” It dawned on her at the moment that she could not appear weak, that there may be a way to salvage whatever this was and turn it to her advantage only if she reigned herself in now blossomed in her mind. Calm began to wash over her as the cobwebs and fog therein began to shift. Yet that pit in her stomach remained.
“Margaret, you know why you are here, what you have done.” He replied gravely, but there was no hint of satisfaction in those cold golden eyes. Just calculated awareness of what was happening.
How could she possibly know? Her thoughts drifted. She was forgetting something, something important. Casting back her mind to recent memories, she found a kind of wall blocking her own knowledge. What had happened to lead up to this?
“I see,” came the drake's hated voice, “judging by that look, I would say you may still be suffering from the effects of Wharheitsserum ,” Sigurd said evenly. A shout of outrage caught both of their attention, and they turned to the stands.
“Not only have you fledgingnapped a noble, your rival, I'll remind you all, but you DRUGGED HER AS WELL?!” Lord Carthwrite was among the few of the nobility that she could count on to stand for her. If for no other reason, then he had no choice. For she had tied him to her with bonds of marriage between their families and by binding him to her cause with more than a bit of blackmail. Her heart soared at his staunch rebuke of this arrogant King. Surprised, actually. He always seemed the cowardly sort.
“Carthwrite.” The King said stiffly.
“By decree in this matter, we will perform whatever action necessary to ascertain the truth. You will silence yourself or join her. Your own crimes are now well known to us thanks to our investigation.” Gabrielle Fairheart’s response came, her lilting tone harsh. She stood before the desk and throne, likely acting as the bailiff, a not uncommon sight considering the law allowed for such. She had gone unnoticed by the chained hen. “It is only by the mere chance that we believe you may have been coerced into this scheme against your will that you yet keep your seat and not join her before the Urtailsplit . In either case, you will not escape judgment either.”
Margaret’s gaze swung back to her ally, and she was not surprised by what she saw. Carthwrite flushed and sat himself down, not allowing his gaze to drift to anyone, including her. Their fellow nobles scooted away as a pair of armored griffons took up positions beside the now-muted griffon. If she had held the strength, she would have derisively mocked him.
“Will there be further interruptions? Or shall we begin, and all to be laid bare to your own eyes?” Sigurd spoke after a moment.
Silence. No one uttered a word, though now the expressions were ones of shock and worry.
“Good.” He nodded and turned back to her. “Margaret Rosebreast, you stand accused of Treason, of attempted Regicide in the First and Second Degree. You also stand accused of Violating the Rules of Return.” He spoke calmly and with the same authority he had always done. The flat, emotionless tone chilled her to the bone. “There are others, of course. However, for the sake of speed, we shall post those later for the public to ruminate upon.”
Treason, Regicide. She knew what those meant. Somehow, they…a thought shifted, and suddenly, everything came back in a flood, bringing sinking doom to her very soul.
“I am aware that Drystan has been gone far too long, you hatchling.” She spat in annoyance. “However, I will not expose myself by sending missives to him for an update now.” She rebuked the young lieutenant. “To do so would directly paint a sign of treason to us.” She stepped forward menacingly. “To me!”
The hen was one of her subterfuge specialists, but at the moment, she was beginning to believe she could do without this one. Perhaps one of the beasts she referred to as her pets would be interested in a snack.
“I understand, my Lady. But this isn't a normal delay-” The imputant little fool began, only to be cut off by Margaret’s door being thrown open to slam against the wall. A harried soldier tore in and skidded to a halt on his knees. Head bowed deeply.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” She roared, drawing herself up to the tips of her paws. A dagger appeared in her hand, delicately held by claw tips. Her wings fanned out, preparing for flight, though there were not many places to go to in this circular chamber.
“My Lady! I humbly beg your forgiveness, yet I bring word!” On any other day, it would have been almost comical to watch as this soldier shouted into the carpet. But with the insistent nattering of her watchers and the reports that yet another piece of the Icewall had fallen inward to crush a farm, she was not in the mood for humors.
“Speak!” She snapped, wondering why the daft bird had not seen fit even to remove his helmet. That was out of normal regulations she had passed down by her ancestors since their House’s founding. Considering the scuffed state of his uniform, whatever he was bothering her with must be important. Or she would have him wiped and hung over the cages.
“Prince Gerhard has a force of hundreds at our gates!” He quickly responded, not raising his head.
The world around Margaret went silent. She suddenly felt cold. The chill swept beyond her bones, going deeper. The Ice Wall region of Griffonia was known for its almost frigid evenings. The banked fire in the hearth near her desk was meant to chase away all chill, but nothing could take away the freezing ice that now fought for dominance in her veins.
This feeling came with the sudden pit of dread that had opened within her, spilling noxious winds that clouded her mind in panic.
“How had he gotten so close? How is he not dead?!”
From what Drystan had told her, her latest assassin had not only worked his way into the Heir’s personal army but that he had managed to secure a coveted advisory role within the Prince's inner circle itself. It was only a matter of time before the griffon slit the Prince’s throat, and she could finally have that nasty hookfish out of her nets.
One less obstacle in her way to the throne.
It had been one of many plans to strike the little lording down, though if she were being honest, perhaps she had put too many irons in the fire. The coffers suffered for a great many plans she had unleashed and had yet to recover from the expenditures. Those bandits were not much worth their cost, little more than a distraction really, already having been pushed out of the prime land as that had been where she had meant for them to wreak the most havoc.
Now, before her coward one of her own. Telling her of a literal invasion of her lands. Her very capital.
How and why could be dealt with later. She shook her head, dismissing him for the moment. How best to turn this to her advantage? She looked out the window to see if she could get an idea of what was arrayed against her.
“Lieutenant, assemble the guard immediately.” She wished she had Drystan with her. “And prepare a Horn.” The kernel of an idea popped into her head. “The Prince will not dare take the city. So this little show of force will only be that.” The noble hen giggled, nervousness released, suddenly realizing how foolish a gamble the Prince had made, though the reason eluded her as to why he was doing this in the first place. All missives between herself and the assassin were destroyed from both ends of the communication line, and a letter had not been sent in months. “If anything, he will do more damage to his father's image than mine.” She turned to the odious hen who had been pestering her for the better part of a half hour. “Go, qui-”
A knife stood out of the officer's throat. The agent’s breath came in gurgles of blood. Nearly silent gurgles. Keeling over, she slammed into the carpet's floor in a clattering of plate and mail that was muffled somewhat from the soft fabric Margaret has always insisted upon for her own personal rooms.
“I'm afraid that whatever trick you are planning won't be happening, Lady Rosebreast.” Came the much calmer voice of the messenger. On his paws now, his helmet had been pulled off, and she got a look at him for the first time as she stepped away in shock. He looked somewhat familiar, though she couldn't yet place him. Another blade was held in his grasp, longer than the previous one, dripping with a strange blue color ichor.
“D-d-do…do you,” she swallowed thickly, “k-know who I am?!” She shouted, backing up rapidly and causing the small throne she had made for her rooms to topple over as she retreated toward one wall. A wall that had an escape route that she could access quickly.
“I do.” He chuckled. Where had she heard that voice? It was so familiar. “But I'm afraid that you don't remember me at all, do you, my Lady? ” He shook his head and stalked forward, walking around the fallen throne as if it was not even there. “In the name of Prince Gerhard, I, Val Shadowing, place you under arrest for treason.”
“Shadowing?!” It wasn't just some random assassin or spy. It was her spy. Her assassin! The knife she hoped would be the end of Gerhard Bloodbeak once and for all. “Treason?!”
With dawning horror, she realized that Prince Gerhard knew she had been trying to kill him. Val Shadowing was smart and likely had put two and two together and realized she was trying more than one hand to kill the lordling. But what reason would he have to come for her? Why now?
“And…he exposed me!” The heat of anger swept through her, melting away the icicle of fear that was their only moment before locking her in place from inaction.
She had only one card available to her, but she now remembered this little upstart and the leverage she held over him.
“If you touch me, your mother and sister will not live to see the sunrise!” She hissed, her confidence returning somewhat as he paused momentarily in his pursuit.
“Ah, yes.” He growled. “About my mother and sister.” There was no amusement or happiness to be found within his eyes. “I am afraid a team of wonderful ponies and a few griffons from the Prince’s own army saw to their safety. We hit Gremersmich Goal in which you placed them before arriving here.” He frowned, a dark, angry expression. “My mother is not expected to survive the week.” Rage poured from his eyes like coals. “Subjected to your torturers' tender mercies.” He snarled.
That was it. With no leverage on him, she had to flee. She was no fool to think she could still talk, or in this case threaten, her way out of this. Thinking she had put enough distance between them, she bolted for the image of Boreas that had been seated within the wall. She strained to reach the stone push latch, her other hand coming up to shove the wall open as soon as her fingers touched the button.
She didn't even make it three steps. Her wings couldn’t even give her the boost she needed to put more speed into her retreat.
Val Shadowing was fast and was on her in an instant, driving his dagger through her shoulder before she could even get truly moving, pinning her to the faux wall of wood and plaster. Margaret screamed, in agony and terror both.
Val’s gloved fist came fast, and she knew only darkness.
Now, she remembered. With the remembering came the ache in her shoulder, where the blade had pierced deep. It burned like a brand. Whatever had been on that knife had kept her in a foggy daze as her forces were routed, and her city fell.
She also vaguely remembered the trip to the capital, when her body was lowered enough from the main formation that surrounded her to smack into treetops on the way. She also remembered the nights spent suspended above a fire swinging slowly, the flames nearly burning her paws, making it impossible to sleep. The beatings before first light.
They hadn't just been thorough in her breaking. They had been cruel.
Her eyes hadn't been crusted over with tears or sleep but with blood.
The serum Eberhard Lonelycall forced into her mouth and down her throat rose unbidden in her mind. They almost didn't need it by the time she had arrived, yet with nearly the singlemindedness of a laborer. He crammed the cocktail of foul liquid down her throat without so much as a by your leave. Her confessions as she was put to the question by Gabrielle had been brutalizingly honest and straightforward. The drugs had all but made her dance for them.
“Winds preserve my soul…they…they know everything!”
Margaret Rosebreast wept. Not the practiced petite cry of a hen finding out she wasn't attending the festival that year. No, this was the weeping of the condemned. Sobs wracked her body as she shook her head in angry denial.
How had it all gone so wrong?
There had been murmurs amongst the assembled nobles at her list of crimes. Now, all were silent, watching as she crumbled before them. All her plans, all her schemes for power, all of it broke around her, leaving only the husk of a once mighty and powerful hen behind.
Numbly, barely listening as Sigurd Bloodbeak began outlining her crimes in detail without anger or remorse for what was coming, she sat in her grubby, once-refined clothes and broke once more.
The only thing that stirred her from her morbid thoughts of her coming death was when the rotted severed head of Drystan was dropped upon the floor before her. The stench of decay wafting into her nose in a flood, causing her weeping to stop for a moment.
“He didn't get away either, " she thought emotionlessly. Some semblance of surprise struck her. She had thought that if anyone might escape this, it was he. While he was loyal to the core, he was not stupid. She had vainly hoped he had escaped all of this and might have been mounting a rescue for her. “Foolish.”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty.” Dorothea Von Hardwind spoke up. “I request to know who killed Drystan.”
“Baroness, this trial is not for Drystan.” The King began, but his wife placed a hand on his own and nodded. He nodded back and regarded the baroness again. “However, that can be discussed later. Once this trial is concluded.”
Margaret sighed and hiccuped. She would not even learn of who killed her most loyal pet.
Dorothea smirked but merely nodded, saying nothing. The hen’s eyes met Margaret's, and Margaret's blood boiled in indignation. Her heart remembered who she once was for a moment.
“How dare you look upon me like that?!”
If she could have in that moment, she would have strangled the impudent bitch. She and her husband had been a major thorn in her side for years, and she had wonderful daydreams of making the horrid griffon suffer once she ascended the throne. The death of the late baron at her order would never be satisfying enough.
The trial went on, and Lotti’s crimes and details were laid bare to all.
“Ruined…it's all ruined…” She moaned then, and the tears flowed once more.
“Margaret Rosebreast. How do you plead?” The end of this nightmare had finally arrived. She was not ready. No one could be ready for death.
More evidence had come. After the letters of instruction to Grendal Plumage, or Lottie Eagleheart as it was revealed, which was more than damning to her interference with the Rights of Return protocols, came witness testimony from various griffons. Including those inside her capital and the little village, she believed firmly in her hand. Val Shadowing's own testimony was just another strand in the rope that would soon end her.
The Gallows. It was an indignant way for a noble to die, often slow and painful. Her mind swirled with thoughts of how her end would come, and with lurching thought, she knew it was much worse than just death that awaited her.
By tradition, which Sigurd had already begun to employ here today, binding the wings to the point that they would not do much more than shift uncomfortably, she saw the other implement of ritual. Below the noose lay a pair of chains with large, heavy stones attached to them. When the lever was pulled, the rocks would drop, pulling her down. It was unnecessary; however, the symbolism was always the intent.
The binding of her wings replaced the ancient and cruel method of tearing them off while she was alive and awake—the only mercy that she would be given this day. The chains of iron and stones were the symbol, though, of denying her the right of flight.
“Oh, Boreas,” she thought bitterly, “they are going to feed me to the Gorge. Oh Wings of Salvation, my soul…”
The Gorge of Winds was the final destination for those deemed traitors in Griffonia. The winds there did not ride high like most in other ravines and chasms. They seemed to be sucked down into that imperceivable bottomless pit, pulling all cast into it down into the darkness, never to rise again. Her corpse was not the first noble blood to be done away with in such a way.
Margaret's flesh and feathers would not be burned. Her spirit would remain shackled to its prison. No, it would be condemned, her soul bound to the earth, never to soar under the Wings of Boreas again. No furtherance of her immortal soul to the heavens. No coming back one day by His Grace.
“I am…lost…” she moaned in a whisper.
Gabriella looked upon her with no mercy. Striding from her position beside the desk, she grabbed the once-refined noble hen by the neck and hauled her painfully to her knees.
“How do you plead?” The Queen, acting as bailiff, spat, nearly throttling her.
“Gah-gah-guilty!” She chokingly cried out. What other response could she give? What lie could she contrive to make this all go away? They had everything. They knew everything.
Another explosion of hushed murmurs rippled about the room. Her fellow nobles had been silent for most of the proceedings, watching the proceedings in stunned silence, which made all of this more haunting.
The gavel raised and slammed. Only once. The crowd went eerily silent once more.
“By the accused's confession and the evidence and testimony laid before the Urtailsplit , I proclaim you, Margaret Rosebreast, guilty of the crime of Treason, Conspiracy, Attempted Regicide, and ravaging the land of your fellow nobles in your mad pursuit of power.”
Sigurd Bloodbeak had still not smiled. Not even in his eyes.
“Margaret. Would I be glad this day has finally come for you to face justice? Yet, I, instead, find myself saddened.” His tone was still one of authority, but there was a quiet dispirit in it. “I wish you and I could have seen the same future for our nation, the same path. I wish the events preceding this had never happened.” He shook his head, weary from the hours of testimony that exposed what she had done behind the scenes to weaken his position and elevate her own. “Yet, you held too much pride. Your family, very much like mine, nearly led us to ruin over a millennia ago. You believed so strongly by right that you should have been able to claim your birthright lineage of first Kings and Queens. Much to your detriment.”
She found her voice numb and without emotion.
“And you believe your family was better, having made just as terrible mistakes?” There was no heat in her words, only tired resignation.
“Chance, Margaret. I have also spent my life attempting to undo the damage my family had wrought. Yours's never even tried. That is why they were pulled down.” His gaze hardened. “That is why Icewall suffered. Your family never learned, and you are the sad product of centuries of hate and spite.”
Standing, he looked away from her.
“I strip Margaret Rosebreast of her titles.” The gavel was not in his hand, yet she could hear two pieces of wood striking together with each pronouncement. “Of her land. I strip her family of title and possession. I strike the name of Rosebreast from the roles of nobility.” He paused, shutting his eyes for a moment before speaking further, his now open gaze resolute. “I sentence her to hang by her neck until she is dead.” Turning to look at her once more, his eyes became hard. “I condemn you to be bound by stone, flight taken from you forevermore. May your body tumble into the Gorge of which all traitors must find. May the Gorge of Winds bind you ever more to the earth, Margaret Rosebreast.”
She didn't even feel the arms that roughly grabbed her. She couldn't even struggle to her paws; instead, she was dragged and then lugged up the long steps to the Gallows.
The only thing she could do was tremble as they placed the noose around her neck. The chains were slapped around her ankles.
The last sound she ever heard was the lever being hauled over and the door snapping open below her.
Sigurd forced himself to watch as Margaret's body thrashed and convulsed. Despite the clear sound of her neck snapping, her body yet fought on.
“Tough to the end, even when your spirit is broken, Margaret.” he thought, once more remorseful that the events played out the way they had done. She had been a foe like no other in these lands, or at least one where failure to overcome her ambitions would have been disastrous. Dangerous and cunning, and he could only wish she had chosen a better path.
She had been far too confident. And the details in her personal missives and notes that she had stashed away in a hidden study in her keep had shown a hen becoming increasingly frustrated with the delays and outright blockages to her plans, such as his niece returning home.
This caused her to take chances—gambles that paid off in most cases, but the tally of winnings had to come with a cost. That cost was her overreach in attempting to kill both Gerhard and Grace all at once.
He frowned, watching as the last vestiges of struggle wracked Margaret's corpse feebly.
“Let us not forget, she knew to target the pony.”
Her attempt on Orion's own life had not been happenstance, no. Somehow, she had put things together far quicker than anyone among them dared thought possible. But it merely added another failing point in her slowly dissolving plans.
Meticulousness had always been a talent of hers, but the events of the past ten years proved that once things began to go wrong, her inflexibility to adapt, to change, proved to be her downfall.
“You tried to catch too many currents, Margaret. Never knowing how each wind would take you.”
The body stilled, and he nodded with satisfaction. Distasteful as it was, this had been important. His eyes raised from the corpse to those in attendance.
Worry, fear, and anger were writ large on the faces of the highest and the lowest of the noble class. He could guess at the course of thoughts that flashed behind those eyes.
It didn't matter. Rosebreast's attempted coup had never succeeded, and this trial proved the consequences of that course of action. Others would think twice before challenging his bloodline again.
“The Council shall remain. All others are dismissed.” Sigurd didn't shout. He didn't need to; the oval chamber's design meant that anyone could hear a whisper from his seat.
Paws shuffled, and soon enough, the lower-ranking nobles filed out, heading to the surface for a much-needed drink, most likely.
He waited, watching those ten chosen to remain, including Carthwrite, who was still flanked by the King's own guard. The monarch could see the side eye given to some. Dorothea Von Hardwind herself gave him a defiant stare when their eyes met.
That was good. He needed strong leaders who wouldn't balk at the first real threat to their authority.
Once the last lesser nobles had left, the great double doors were shut soundly in place.
“Come, we will have our deliberations in the Groberatsal . Carthwrite, you will not be privy to this meeting. Given your connections to the late Rosebreast and the still ongoing investigation of how deep into her plans you were involved, I think it best you return to your rooms.” Sigurd paused. “Under guard. I trust that is no issue.”
Carthwrite only pulled in on himself further and nodded meekly. The King snorted at that. His timidness was likely the reason he fell so easily into the hen's clutches.
He turned and left without another word, circling around the overly large throne and down a stairwell hidden behind. He would, of course, get there first, but refreshments had already been well supplied. For this conversation, they were going to need the strongest wine.
Despite its grand-sounding name, the Groberatsal was little more than a mid-sized chamber that mirrored the Hall. It had a large round table built within and plenty of chairs. Both the table and the chairs were simple, a far cry from the previous furnishings placed within.
When Sigurd assumed the throne from his late father, he looked upon that chamber with disgust. While the people starved, his family and those of other great houses built lavish homes, pursued grand projects that fed none and dressed their own meeting rooms in finery no one outside the castles and mansions would ever see but them.
“As if they could make all their troubles go away and pretend they did not exist, that it would solve the problems and make them go away.” It had been a thought he had then, as he did now, stepping into the much simpler decorated Groberatsal .
The wood used in constructing the large table, chairs, and other furnishings was still of the highest quality. But the silks that acted as drapes on the windowless walls were gone. The same went for the paintings and tapestries. In their place, we're the reminders of why they met together and argued and bargained in this chamber. Hung on the walls now were various pieces of recent history painted and sewn by artists whose hearts wept at the lack of their fellow drake and hen.
Griffons on their knees begging for alms. Griffons are tilling the soil of the land and are not getting much in return. Griffons fighting in back alleys over scraps. These were the images he wanted visitors to see when they stepped within. A reminder of their past failures and fuel to push them to find useful solutions.
Sigurd liked to think that these images helped his nation's slow turnaround, not on their own, of course. In this hall of bickering birds, they had focused on the basics of economics, agriculture, and defense. And from those nights of frustration, they had begun to move the nation back towards better winds.
Now, hopefully, in this place, they will try to find a new current upon which to soar. One charted by not another griffon, but a pony instead.
Dorothea, of course, was the first to enter the room after he had already walked to his seat. The hen had not slowed down at all in the many years he had known her.
“How long are you planning to let her stink up the place?” In this chamber, Dorothea Von Hardwind left behind the niceties she often employed in public as she crossed over the threshold. It was a rare treat to see the real her. A hard griffon who brooked no nonsense and defended her claims fiercely.
And he had almost been bound to her instead of Gabrielle.
“For a day and a night, as tradition has always allowed.” He replied calmly, watching as others filled in after her.
Lord Henry Blackpaw and Tobias Tallowbone made their way immediately to the punch bowl, knowing full well that the King would provide something a little stronger than fruit punch in the glass container.
Lady Longflight ignored refreshments and went to her seat immediately. Her beak scrunched up in disgust as she fought to straighten her skirts once she settled into the chair. She hated the seats provided and often complained about them. Yet, tonight seemed to have stilled her tongue.
Lord Ironbark fairly stomped in. Clearly, the trial had not made the shortest member of the Council happy in the slightest. However, it was unlikely that the trial itself was what truly bothered him. Judging by his expression, he was not about to leave it a mystery.
The portly griffon rounded the table, snatching a glass goblet from Blackpaw, the drake’s third, and practically marched to Sigurd.
“What gives you the right to strip a Lord or Lady's lands from her family!” He spat, taking a long pull from the glass and curling his beak in disgust.
“Ah, fear. He worries I will be flexing my authority to remove others from their position. Like himself.” He, of course, didn't say any of that, just gesturing to his seat beside his own.
“Johann. Please, all will be answered as soon as we are all settled. I'd hate to repeat myself more than once, but trust me, you will want to hear what I have to say.”
The expected staredown lasted no more than a minute, and with a huff, Johann Ironbark downed the rest of the drink, grimaced, and practically flopped into his seat with a frown.
The Drake never did like sweet drinks.
After him came Lady Lacewing, Lord Rockfeather, and Lady Heartbreast. Of the three, Lady Gisela Heartbreast may just be trouble. Both she and Margaret are close cousins. They were close cousins, and familial bonds may make her an enemy in the long run. However, she does not have any links to the plot made against him and his family by House Rosebreast, so the best he can hope for is neutral animosity.
Lady Adele Lacewing would likely be grateful for his and his son's actions, as her lands had been most ravaged by Margaret's bandit mercenaries. The death of a fellow noble, especially one responsible for the destruction of many farming communities, would likely get no sympathy from her. Winters were going to be hard for her slice of the nation.
Albert Rockfeather was a different creature altogether. He seemed indifferent to just about everything. Making him unusually difficult to bargain with or even read. His region of Griffonia, the Spine, butted up against Rosebreast's former holdings, and he chiefly focused on the iron and gems that could be found and dug up there. That seemed to be all the rocky land held. Yet he had an unusual talent for getting consumables and even luxury items in a near flood into his lands despite the general troubles the nation had.
That was likely due to the contacts in Equestria he believed no one knew about.
“Soon, that iron will be put to better use.” Sigurd thought, hopefully.
The last and youngest member was Welhelmina Von Cartflight. She had only recently joined their table in place of her father, Gunther. Despite her massive size, she was timid, and her only real talent was logistics, as had been her father.
Once everyone settled and got drinks, Longflight and Johann being provided wine, he sat down and began.
“Lords, Ladies,” Sigurd spread his hands, “I call this meeting to proper order. Considering the recent events, I can imagine that some here are uncomfortable with the recent trial of Margaret Rosebreast.” He shook his head. “Rest assured, I only acted within the law. No one else's lands and titles are on the line. Not even the absent Lord Carthwrite.”
“It must be real convenient for you, Bloodbeak.” Johann Ironbark said sourly.
“It is. Due to our previous, and likely wiser, predecessors. They understood the necessity of the law and its protections.” He would not argue, would not quibble. Just remind them of the law and its authority, not his own personal power. “However, I think our forebears may have neglected our people.”
That comment got sharp looks from the assembled Lords and Ladies.
“I'll explain in good time. First,” he said, already placing a leather envelope before himself. Flipping it open, he gestured to Albert. “Lord Rockfeather, as is due to your proximity to Icewall, I would ask you to take charge of its management for the time being.”
Nods all around. Everyone had expected this, even Rockfeather. Considering his lands and territory, only he truly understood what might be best for the suddenly leaderless land. He gave a simple shrug in acquiescence. Sigurd nodded gratefully.
“In the meantime, I would ask the Council to help locate and raise up a new Steward to those lands with all possible speed. While the population is not large, its lands are vast and hard to manage from such a distance as Lord Rockfeather’s capital shall allow.”
That did get some surprised looks. Adele gave him a shrewd look before slowly responding.
“In…accordance to the law…you have the right to appoint any family you see fit to replace the Rosebreast line. Why ask us? I had expected you to grant the lands to your niece.” She paused, clearly wanting to say something else, yet she simply shook her head. “So again, why are you seeking our involvement?”
Sigurd interlaces his fingers together, carefully examining the talons that topped them. This was the beginning of the change these rules the griffons may object to. Though less onerous than what was to come, it would be his first indication of how much of a fight he was to have to implement his changes.
“This is true.” He forced a small chuckle. “But as of right now, how many of you believe my claims? No, I don't need a response from you. Just understand that I know some do doubt, no matter the evidence.” Shaking his head, he went on. “I wish for us all to decide because many have grown to distrust my family. Our failings are ones I have worked hard to live down, yet they still stain the tail feathers. No, my friends, I want us all to be invested in their success.” He smirked, one corner of his beak rising. “And I imagine some would want something out of the deal. Besides, right now, my Grace Fairheart is working hard to secure her lands in full.” It was against custom but not unexpected, and the sooner the lands of Seacrest were stabilized under proper rule, the sooner industry could begin booming under her guidance.
“I am surprised at you, Sigurd.” Johann said brusquely. “I had believed you would jump at the chance of securing more power for yourself. To leave it up to us, well, that is a far change from your father's day.” The King could only nod at that. His father had been a deceitful bastard who had manipulated more than nobles to keep his power.
“I am not my father, Johann.” He smiled, though he didn't feel it in his heart. “I will not leave that legacy behind, no matter the cause or reason.” Clapping his hands together. “Now, are we all in agreement that Lord Rockfeather will take charge of Icewall while we seek a worthy heir to those lands?”
A chorus of “ayes” from all assembled. With Margaret dead, Grace currently in Seacrest amassing her authority, and Carthwrite on house arrest; they just barely had the required number to cast that vote.
“Excellent. Now, onto other matters.” Dorothea Von Hardwind’s question from the trial loomed large on the list of subjects they would discuss here tonight, so he figured he probably should tackle that one first. “Dorothea, you asked who killed Drystan. May I inquire as to why that is something you found important?”
The Lady Hardwind was not a hen to be backed into a corner, and such was the case here. Her chin raised, she answered.
“Because I suspect your niece’s mission to Aviary was a success. I also suspect that Margaret had realized what was happening and sought to stop it.” She pulled a folded letter from a sleeve and raised it for everyone to see. “An agent that I will keep nameless reported a great battle was waged at the now fortified gates of Aviary.” He nodded, and the suspicious looks directed at him became hard. Even Albert was perturbed by the revelation. “I believe you have answers to what I seek.”
Sigurd had expected this. Entering an alliance with this hen had been galling, but in order for his niece to succeed, he needed someone else to act in his stead. Orion's involvement with her gave no other option, and it had actually turned into a boon. If one rigged with hookfish.
“Yes, a battle was fought and won at Aviary. A mercenary band of unicorn soldiers tried to take the town and slaughter all within.” He frowned. “At the same time, Drystan attempted to infiltrate the town at the behest of his mistress and kill Grace Fairheart and Orion Falls. Both of whom were inside the village at the time.”
Gasps rippled around the conference table, and everyone started shouting at once.
Dorothea remained silent, smirking.
“You believe you have the upper hand here, Dorothea. Yet I fear you don't have the full picture.”
Outrage condemnation exploded from the drakes of the room, directed at Equestria and her nation's head. The hens, those not in the know at least, cried for retribution against the Equestrian people themselves.
Sigurd let them tire themselves out, remaining locked on Lady Hardwind, who was beginning to frown. She likely expected him to gain control of the matter and make excuses immediately. When he did not, her body tone shifted.
Once everyone had a chance to calm down, they, too, noticed the tension between Hardwind and Bloodbeak.
“Dorothea.” He said simply. Baiting her to act first.
“You…know something.” She said, now alarmed.
“I know that despite their origins, they did not belong to Equestria despite the likelihood of many of the mercenary forces troops being born there. No. From all gathered evidence. This truly was a mercenary force in the purest sense.”
“Yet?”
“Only one missive was found in the wreckage of their camp. A missive that points to the Church of Sol’s involvement with the group.” Beaks tightened in anger.
“Are you saying the Church is responsible?”
“I am saying the Church had their own reasons and motivations outside of Equestria's control. There were unicorns found working with the bandits my son was hunting as well. Providing logistical support from what we had gathered. But there was an incident when First Lieutenant Shining Armor found Gerhard.”
“This is an outrage!” Johann jumped to his paws, shaking a fist in the air. “That blighted church should be brought to its knees, and the lot of them should be hung!”
Sigurd was inclined to agree with the drake, considering what he had learned and told about the events that transpired in the ancient fortress of Bulwark. He was more than furious to learn of the pony's involvement himself.
Dorothea, herself, was appalled to learn just how far that particular group of ponies was willing to go in order to secure victory or escape. He could see it on her face as he laid out the incident with the Fiend that had been summoned. Eyewitness testimony of Val Shadowing and his team all but confirmed it. This wasn't a game of jockeying for power anymore, and it must have dawned on her just how close he had been to losing his son.
“To bring something like that…into Griffonia…” Muttered Adele Lacewing. “We are fortunate that due to Orion’s negligence in obtaining permission prompted that…prompted Celestia to send in Shining Armor and his force when she did.”
“Even if the intent had never been to help us.”
The unspoken words lingered in the room. Had Celestia not sent her forces, small as it was, and the ponies in that tower been cornered in some way, then odds were the Creature would have ravaged his son's army and the countryside before whatever materials used to bring it forth had run out.
“My friends,” Sigurd said after a moment of allowing the information to set in, “I wish we could bring these letters found at both Castle Bulwark and Aviary to a tribunal between nations.” He shook his head. “However, I believe that would be a mistake. One that may expose someone to a danger that we must protect at all cost in this instance.”
All eyes fell on him, and he sighed. The moment of revelation of just what went down in Aviary had come. He knocked upon the table three times, and Eberhard Lonelycall walked in with Gerhard behind. Between the two was a crate that both struggled to carry.
The King stood and moved his chair to the wall, making a space for Eber and his son to lift the box and place it on the table. With a bow, both left without a word.
“Dorothea, to finally get to your question of who killed Drystan,” Sigurd Bloodbeak gripped the lid and ripped it off casually. The nails came out of the top with a squeal, making the others wince but not look away. Setting the lid aside, he reached into the straw and fished out an ingot of metal. “Is the same one who taught our smiths in Aviary how to forge this.” Setting the ingot along with several others on the table, he smiled and stepped back. “Orion Falls, with the help of the late Gilda Broadwing, brought the bastard down. Gilda bought him scant time with her life, but that hen did her duty, and I plan to reward her family, though I doubt any coin will replace the fine griffon they had lost.”
Shock. Every Lord and Lady of Griffonia sat rigid. All for various reasons as they stared at the steel bars sitting casually upon the table.
“Take flight while the wind rises under your wings.” He mentally admonished himself. It was best not to let this group get their wits about them.
“Before you may ask. No. Orion was never an agent of mine. Or anyone in this nation.” He chuckled. “Of all the reasons that brought him and made him divulge his knowledge to us, it was the simple desire of doing the right thing, as he has told Eberhard and my niece.” He shook his head. “It seems that's what it has always been about, though even now, I find it difficult to believe.”
“That…pony? Just...just gave us the knowledge to create steel?!” Henry Blackpaw said in a strangled squeak. He hated public speaking, or speaking much at all, as his voice had never matched his visage.
Sigurd chuckled.
“I still find trouble believing it myself.” He said, pushing one ingot to the Lord. Henry picked it up with shaking fingers and traced the emblem with a claw.
“It is real?” He whispered.
As a nation of rulers and individually, they had tried for years to obtain somehow the knowledge to create their own steel once again. Every avenue was blocked. Every source dried up. Even when they believed they had gotten a recipe in their claws, it was found just to be nonsense.
It was obvious that someone out there was moving against them. Celestia had always been one easily blamed, but it made no sense considering other nations not within her control supposedly were unable to help. Yet, time and time again, their efforts had failed. This had gone on for generations.
“Now…now I believe we know who has been blocking us from our own birthright.” The question remained as to why.
“The Church of Sol,” Dorothea began, “I assume we can all acknowledge they are somehow responsible.” He nodded.
“Them and their precursors.” He added.
“And we cannot expose them without exposing the pony who put his life on the line to help us. If…if it is known what events occurred in Aviary, then any tribunal of nations we call for will learn of his involvement. Thus jeopardizing his life.”
“Yes,” Sigurd said simply.
“Heh. What do we care for one pone.” Johann asked into the silence that followed. “Justice is at hand! We can finally bring destruction to that farce of a religion and be the better for it!” This has been what the King of Griffonia was afraid was going to happen. “Why not just-”
“Have you no honor?” Cut in Albert Rockfeather, his quiet tone cutting in like a knife.
“Wha..what?!” Lord Ironbark bristled, his neck feathers ruffling angrily out of his tight collar.
“You do realize that this…pony will be facing treason and possible death, yes?” He had somehow gotten his hands on one of the ingots and was regarding it with appreciation. “Should we expose him, we potentially lose out on a source of information, not to mention what knowledge he may possess and be willing to share.” He set the bar down and, for the first time in history that Sigurd knew of, gave Johann Ironbark such a hard look that the portly griffon gulped.
Once he was satisfied that he had cowed his fellow noble sufficiently enough, his eyes softened and swept to Sigurd’s own. “I assume we cannot just suddenly begin mass producing steel as a product.”
Sigurd nodded at that, happy to see that another had understood the larger issue.
“Correct. If we were to start churning out steel suddenly, the pony could still face questions that I'm not certain he could navigate successfully. However,” the King smiled, “that does not prevent us from building the infrastructure to meet demand; perhaps that would be best. Dissemination of our metal will have to be quick. Having everything in place before then would make the process that much quicker.”
“How long do you propose we wait?” Adele asked.
“No more than three years. That should be sufficient time for us to lay…yes, Welhelmina?” The tall hen dressed in a pleated gown of gray-green cotton looked like she was going to explode.
“Oh!” She gasped, surprised at being called on. “I…ah…well, this is embarrassing. But…I may just have a way to hide our activities from prying eyes.” She finished, ducking her beak down as everyone else stared at her.
Wilhelmina Von Cartflight was often the quiet sort. Despite Sigurd's attempts to include the hen in their discussions, she often played the role of a mute and just watched on, hopefully learning from those more experienced.
“Oh?” Dorothea said in surprise. “Do tell…Baroness.” She stumbled over, almost calling the hen what everyone at the table viewed her as. A fledgling.
“Well, as you know, my family has specialized in shipping for years. From carts to ships, you name it.” She slowed down awkwardly, noticing the impatient looks she was getting at what was obviously a rehearsed speech. “Sorry. Ah…we have an island in Lake Groundbeak. We have…well…” The flustered griffon faltered.
“We are well aware of the contraband your family has peddled in for centuries, Wilhelmina.” Sigurd remarked dryly. He could see now why she rarely said anything. She was a terrible liar.
“Oh. Oh!” Her eyes grew as big as saucers. “Well, I…uh…”
“Wilhelmina, if neither I nor anyone else in this chamber has stopped your family from doing so, do you think it matters now? Out with it.” He said, exasperated.
“Ah…yes, I…suppose that's true.” She wilted at his heated glare a bit. “What I mean to say is many of the caves on the island are completely dry! We go there so much to store our goods, but due to the economy being what it is, even the contraband doesn't take up too much space!” She practically squeaked at the end.
“Are you offering your contraband caves to the crown?” He asked, mildly surprised.
“Yes!” She licked her beak, eyes darting. “We will only take a shipping fee. Storage will be free of charge.” That was a surprise that must have shown on all of their faces, for she flushed indignantly. “I-I want…our nation to ah…be free too!”
Sigurd couldn't help the smile that spread across his own beak. Patriotism. This is what he had hoped for, patriotism for the nation they were born into.
“I believe that can be arranged, Lady Von Cartflight.”
The hen beamed as the others began talking amongst themselves. Johann seemed soured, but even as he and Lady Lacewing argued over the merits of staying quiet about Orion's involvement in return for such a powerful industry, one could easily see that the drake was no dullard. Even he could see the merits of having such a powerful asset from among the ponies.
While they were distracted, Sigurd dug into the crate once more and pulled several leather-bound notebooks. He walked around the room, handing them out.
“One of the things Orion discussed with Master Lonelycall was the need for information distribution. Within these pages is not only the recipe for steel and the construction of forges but also a complete list of agriculture techniques and methods that can be used depending on the region. Orion thought it best that the information on steel should be widely taught. In classes, no less. That way, what happened in the past would be very difficult to occur again.”
The details surrounding the loss of steel centuries ago were muddled. No one truly knew how it had happened. Just one day, griffons were unable to remember the quantity of the ingredients or the temperature required from heat; none of it could be recalled. Panic set in only when it was discovered that all their notes, guarded or otherwise, were simply gone—as if someone had just snatched the knowledge from their minds and homes.
“What does he suggest?” Lord Rockfeather asked, opening the notes and beginning to read.
“Heh, he says if we have to, write in on cave walls, make pillars of stone to stand in forests. Burying it in old fortresses and villages that had not seen a soul in centuries.” He shook his head, smiling as he handed Tobias Tallowbone the last envelope. “He said tell it to the poor and the rich alike.”
“Prudent.” Albert said quietly. “He is wiser than I believed for a fifteen-year-old colt.”
“He also possesses a mean streak I don't often see outside of a griffon with a perpetually sour beak.” Muttered Dorothea.
Adele frowned. “You've had contact with this pony.”
“I have.” Lady Hardwind said dryly. Placing the leather folder aside. “Had the displeasure of being on the receiving end of ill-treatment from him, though I cannot say I did not invite it.”
Sigurd was surprised. Finding out that she had tried to kill him had been one thing. Yet he had never learned how the pony had managed to get out of that attempt on his life. But a niggling worm of fear worked its way into his belly.
“He…made a spell to blind and deafen your guard?” Henry Blackpaw said incredulously. He was more than a bit tipsy now, having gone back to the punch bowl several times this evening.
“Yes, and developed a spell to protect himself from the effects.” Dorothea shook her head wonderingly. “Very smart, that one.”
“Why attempt to kill him?” Lord Rockfeather asked, eyes shrewdly watching her.
The King's stomach dropped. “If she tells them…”
“Truthfully? I thought he was a spy, and I had plans to wring out the truth from him. Instead,” she chuckled, and Sigurd's bowels righted themselves, “he offered me a deal.” Her eyes swept to him. “I assume I am still getting a discovery fee in all this?”
“Damnation.” She had him over a rock there. At the very least, he owed it to her for keeping her beak silent on what she knew of the pony.
“Yes. You helping my niece at his behest will afford you a larger cut of the profits once we begin selling our steel to the world once more.” She nodded graciously, but the shark-like smile on her face had more than a few of her fellow nobles giving her shrewd looks.
Dorothea Von Hardwind had just moved ever so slightly higher in the power hierarchy.
“I have a question,” Tobias asked. His eyes were on the notes before him, but his ears were standing high. “What did Ironblood want?”
Sigurd inwardly groaned. He had been hoping to avoid that subject, as its ramifications on this meeting were rather large. Yet, he could not deny that the timing couldn't be better considering what had been discussed already.
“Simply put, Tobias. He wanted to give us the secrets to steel.” He said, causing the room to explode. “My friends! Please! Let me explain.”
Johann didn't give him the chance. “He was willing to give us steel, and you want to protect the pony!? Don't you think that was important for us to know?!”
Adele Lacewing was right behind him. “Ironblood’s deal would have accelerated the timetable for the release of our steel production! Why, by the Winds, did you not take that deal instead?!”
Everyone had their own complaint, much the same as the first two, yet it was three that said nothing at all that he couldn't help but be relieved at.
“I imagine that Ironblood likely had some…conditions for his gift.” Albert’s voice cut through the noise of his fellow nobles. Pulling their tirade up short.
“What do you mean?” Henry asked, confused.
“I think we should let the King inform us of that.” He gestured to Sigurd neutrally.
“Well…yes. There were conditions.” Conditions were so onerous that there was no way he would ever get his fellow griffons to acquiesce to them, no matter how he worded it.
Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart watched on, sweat matting his fur at the base of his back, making his undershirt cling uncomfortably to him. But he could not shift in his throne, nor could he reach around and scratch there for relief. It was maddening.
The reason for his inability to adjust himself was that he was currently pacing back and forth before him—more like stalking.
Emperor Ironblood. The Emperor of Minos, Guardian of the Gate, Watcher of the Labyrinth, was full of energy as his gaze swept Sigurd's straight-backed troops standing as honor guard about the hall. His eyes looked for details only the old bull could see and nodded with approval at what he was finding.
There was a strange collar around his neck, clearly a recreation of some ancient trinket, but one that made no sense. It hung about his throat like a shackle, clinking quietly against the plate steel bound across his chest.
Rather than dressing like an emperor, the bull wore only armor, plated and a dull gray. Unrefined, unpolished. As if he expected to go into combat at any time.
His vigor was a bit of a surprise, considering the minotaur was purported to be over nine hundred years old, though if you were to look at the slightly graying Minotaur, you might mistake him for being in his middle years of a hundred and ten. Tall, broad across the shoulders like an oak, he was an imposing figure that nearly matched Princess Celestia herself in presence alone. He was the epitome of power.
His arrival has been a whirlwind. When the reports had first come in that his ships, airships no less, were no more than five hours out, it was a scramble for Sigurd and his bride to get everything into place for a welcoming audience. When the great lumbering ships had flown overhead in a mere four hours, he realized two things.
Ironblood had been courteous in allowing him time to prepare, and those vessels that plowed wind and cloud alike were much faster than anything Equestria had to offer.
Once the Emperor and his courtiers had disembarked on the little used airship field that had been rarely maintained, the old bull had practically bowled his way into the King's audience chamber inside the castle keep. Bypassing all protocols.
Now that he was here, he was almost languid in his brief conversation. Touching on topics of little interest. Then he had gone silent, and the feathers on Sigurd's neck were raised.
He had known this wasn't a social call. The last time Ironblood had been outside of Minos, some six hundred years ago, his ancestors were still trying to keep their own crumbling empire together.
Now, with the flurry of activity from emissaries dispatched all over the known world, he had made a personal visit to Griffonia himself.
Trade deals, by all accounts were being discussed at length, and Sigurd had thought no such opportunity would come for his people as they were barely surviving as it was. What little export they did have, mostly peppers and furs, was of little interest to the mighty yet secluded nation.
“Sigurd, I know you are aware this is not a social call.” His voice boomed, though it appeared he had taken efforts to restrain his speech. The bull’s words just naturally seemed to sound like he was shouting. Perhaps that was due to age and time on the throne. Celestia often had a quality similar to that of her tongue.
“I had surmised that, yes, Emperor Ironblood.” Unfortunately, due to the power dynamic between the pair, he was placed begrudgingly beneath. “I had also assumed you would get to the reason for your strange arrival to my lands when you were ready.” Ironblood gave a smirk at that remark and strode back to the middle of the chamber.
“The reports about you are accurate. I'm pleased to find that to be true.” Sigurd kept his face smooth and impassive. Other nations had spies, of course, even if Equestria’s was laughably ineffective in their careers. The smirk broadened into a grin. “No nonsense, but straight to the point. Also,” he raised a thick finger, “remarkably well informed. A very sound investment, marrying Gabrielle Fairheart, Sigurd. Her family's network is one of the best in the world, from what I've been told.”
He knew flattery would not work on him if he were as knowledgeable of his activities as he appeared to be. So why go through the effort? To inform him that he knew, that his network of agents was just as good, if not better.
His beak did not tighten in agitation no matter how much this bullish arse wanted to get a rise out of him. He would not react.
“Hmm, you can also keep that famous Bloodbeak temper in check. I'll have the clerks file that away later.” He chuckled. A dangerous sound coming from a walking mountain of muscle. “I'll get right to the point. My goal,” he gave a rueful grin, “is the dissolvement of the Equestrian Empire.” He stated simply.
“As far as I'm aware, Emperor Ironblood, Equestria is one nation isolated to this one continent—” he began but was interrupted.
“On paper and lines of the map, yes, yes.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We both know that harpy has her hooks into pretty much every nation with whorses. That effectively means an empire without the public knowledgeable of the subtle issue. I want to break that.”
Sigurd paused and considered the old bull.
“If…you were to do that…what? " The urge to lick his beak nervously almost overwhelmed his self-control. What would be our role?” Outright refusing was out of the question. Stories told that Ironblood of the Minos had a tendency to react first and worry later. “What would be the benefit?”
“For you, Sigurd? Why, the return of secrets long cherished by your people, of course.” A cruel twist to his lips made the drake's stomach want to curl in on itself. “Steel.” His chuckle rang out. “It's amazing that the Sun Bitch has managed to keep your people in the dark for as long as she's had. I will give you steel, Bloodbeak. In exchange, I need soldiers. I need an army. Many armies, but yours is far more important. Your nation shall fall like a hammer upon that monster's domain armed with the best armor and blades anyone can afford.”
“This does not sound like you rejected him,” Dorothea said, tapping her beak and giving him an odd look.
Sigurd shook his head, weary from even remembering that tense moment.
“One does not reject Emperor Ironblood to his face, Dorothea. I requested time to consider his offer.” He frowned. “The strangeness came from how easily he accepted.”
“I assume he then simply flew away?” Rockfeather’s question got a swift nod. “How long did he give you to consider?”
“Eight years. Said he would only be ready by then. I am unsure of what that may mean. I have Gabrielle and her agents looking into it.” The King of Griffons shuddered visibly. “I have only read about him, but he was more than imposing. There was a…madness there I could detect but not understand.”
“Perhaps his age is finally catching up to him.” Johann Ironbark said sourly. “But why not just accept his offer? Soldiers for our due once again. Sounds like a fine-”
“Of all the short-sighted ideas I've ever heard pour out of your mouth, Johann!” Snapped Adele, interrupting the portly drake. “Listen, fool! If the King had acquiesced to his deal, our territories, no, our nation itself, would have just become a vassal state to his Empire.” Johann had attempted to argue, opening his beak several times to fire back, but upon mention of the consequences of such a deal, he snapped his mouth shut and scowled.
Sigurd nearly breathed a sigh of relief. If one had seen the implication, that meant others did too. Henry, despite his intoxication, was also frowning into his goblet.
Welhelmia was also looking a little glum. “This is not easy to mark a solid path through. If we don't accept his offer, he may come back with more than a couple of airships.”
“Yes.” Dorothea nodded, a pleased look on her face. “Yet, I somehow think it won't matter.”
The King kept his face impassive and nodded for her to continue.
“By the time he does expect a response, we will have already been in full production. Judging by these notes,” she tapped the sheaf of papers in front of her, “our food production should more than meet our people's needs.” Her pleased smile turned predatory. “Don't think I haven't noticed the timing of your schedule, your Majesty. Orion Falls should be graduated by then and, supposedly, out of harm's way when we begin.”
“True, but it is also necessary.” He stood. “Eberhard, please come in here.”
The reedy little secretary drake ducked in a flash, quietly shutting the door behind him.
“My Lord.” He bowed.
“Eber, tell them.”
“Ah, yes.” He gave another short bow to the nobles present, all who were now watching him with curiosity. “We have two actions that must begin at once. First, a purging of the foreign soldiers currently within our borders. Any chance that they may discover the truth must be eliminated quickly.” Nods. “The second is the reformation of our government.”
Author's Note
No Twilight just yet. I know a few of you are only her for the autistic purple spaz. But like the dragons, she is coming.
So, the end of Rosebitch
You all have a wonderful week, and I'll see you in the comments.
Thanks for reading!
Peace!
Orion sighed heavily, shouldering his bag higher on his shoulder as he slammed the carriage door shut with more than a bit of aggravation.
Everyone, every single pony, was already watching when the strange new carriage with an anchor, hammer, and quill emblem rolled to a stop at the school entrance. Its bearers were slightly winded from the effort.
When he had stepped out, the students began to stop in their tracks, one by one. Then, the teachers who were still moving to their classes before the first bell slowed and came to a complete stop, looking at him with a mix of bewilderment and shock. The black colt attempted to ignore the sudden attention that should never have bothered him considering his infamy, yet the situation was so embarrassing for him.
They had insisted, and he had refused. They pointed out the merits, and he pointed out the cons. They argued about the time it would take him to reach the school on hoof, and he relented if only to shut them up.
“That's only because you all chose a home six freakin’ miles away from the closest tram!”
Sighing, he turned and nodded to the pair of Pegasi servants who had brought him there. Both mares were adjusting each other's harnesses. “Thanks, ladies.”
“Oh,” one he believed was named Skye Song blushed. “There's no need to thank us! It's our job, after all!” He snorted at that.
The other, Moon Drift, nodded and said nothing. In all their faux leather gear, it was hard to tell their colors apart. Both seemed to be the same blue mane with a blue fur motif, but it was all covered up, with the manes sticking out of their helmets like a crest. Something about safety in the sky or something. Perhaps it got cold for them up there. Who knew?
“I'll thank whoever I want. This,” he gestured at them and the carriage, “would have been unnecessary if they had chosen a home closer to one of the tram stations.” He would be leaving earlier tomorrow so that he didn't have to put up with this nonsense again.
“Well, um.” Skye hesitated. “You're welcome, Sir.” The mare smiled brightly.
The Pegasi were just two of the eleven servants in the house of Shipwrights, employed by Emerald herself, unsurprisingly. Most he had yet to see, but he had already met the Steward of the home this very Monday morning.
Morning Script had to be the most severe pony he had ever met–No, that was wrong; Raven Inkwell was the most severe, but the Steward was a close second.
The soft-looking, portly stallion had this old-fashioned school principal attitude when it came to how one conducted themselves in the home. It took everything within him not to get into a shouting match with the pony just over his way of eating breakfast and then the flight to school. A flight! Instead of arguing over and over, he just agreed to take the damn coach to school today just to have an end to it.
“Please, for the love of all that is good and decent in this world, don't call me “sir.” Orion works just fine.” He moaned, turning away, not waiting for a response.
Only to run nearly nose to nose with Fancy Pants.
The young stallion stared at him for a moment, eyes drifting to the carriage, then back to him slowly.
“Heeeeey, Fancy.” The black colt said conversationally.
“Orion.” He said uncertainly. “Did…did you just come out of that carriage?”
“You know I did. You were right there when it happened.” Orion growled, wanting to disappear on the spot.
“How…” His noble friend began, then stopped, confusion writ large on his face. “What?”
“Fancy…dear God, don't spread this. You know how you were telling me Celestia had something up her sleeve as a punishment?” The white colt gave a slow, unsure nod. “Yeah, you were right. I….I got fucking adopted last weekend.” It was almost comical, both his friend's jaw flopping open and his demand not to spread the obvious.
“How?!” Fancy Pants hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the drop-off area. Other carriages were being pulled in on hoof or by wing, and they needed to move to allow them access anyway.
“I just told you, Celestia.” He growled out. “You really had no idea?”
His friend stumbled a bit, glanced at him, and then marched stiffly, arm in arm, reluctantly with him.
“I tell you this true, my friend. I had no idea this was to be the Princess's gambit.” He said after a moment, both passing through the wrought iron gates of the school. “My question is, why did you agree to it? I cannot imagine her being able to force this upon you.”
“Because I have a feeling she would have been unrelenting. At that point, I had no real choice.” He spat. “It was either agree or be prodded into it.” Orion shook his head. “Either way, I know you're a rumor hound. You no doubt have heard about what folks have been saying about Mrs. E’s orphanage and me, didn't you?”
His friend winced.
“Yes, I did…” Fancy trailed off. “I didn't…want you to feel…
“Like an utter and complete shithead?” The noble pony nodded after a moment. “Yeah. I can appreciate that, but a heads-up could have given me an idea of what to expect in that bitch’s ammo bag.”
“Orion,” Fancy bore a pained expression, “I would be very much appreciative if you would not refer to our ruler as a “bitch”.”
“I'd appreciate not being stared at like I'm some new and exciting exhibit in a zoo. But here we are.” He shot back, louder than necessary, glancing over his friend's shoulder at the onlookers who had not stopped following his movements.
That little bit of a call out seemed to have gotten a few of them a hint, at the very least. Some gawkers immediately turned their heads away, twitching ears flushed with embarrassment.
They walked in silence toward the main building on campus. Having finally wrestled his arm free of his friend's grip, Orion searched through his things for his schedule, idly wondering if he got the electives he wanted.
“Orion?”
“Yeah, Fancy?” He mumbled, distractedly reading over his list of classes. “No self-defense class again, I see. What a surprise, not.” He had been handed his schedule this morning and hadn't really had time to go over it till now. He applied for the class every year, and he was rejected every year.
“That emblem, the one with the anchor, hammer, and quill. You were adopted by the Shipwrights, weren't you?”
He paused on the steps and regarded his noble friend.
“Anything I should know?” He asked, suddenly worried.
“About them? No. Nothing really onerous comes to mind, actually. One of the few families out there that does not have a closet full of skeletons.” He chuckled. “Most other families don't like them because of that. The Princess chose well.”
He picked up immediately on the implication.
“Because they've got either no dirt to be used against them.” He mused out loud. “Or they have to be the very best at hiding them. That's kinda interesting.”
“True.” Fancy cocked his head. “You don't trust them?”
“No, it's not that. But that's par for the course for everyone.” He shrugged. “Honestly, Clipper and his family seemed to be exactly that. Honest people in a dishonest city. Considering my experience with most of your people, it's refreshing, but I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“My people? What do you mean by that?” Fancy Pants looked slightly miffed, but then again, there was a gleam in his eye.
“Nobles, dude. You are like…the very rarest of exceptions for me. The rest can all go piss up a rope for all I care.” Pushing one of the massive double doors open, both headed inside. “What locker you got this year?”
“Ah, two-thirty-three.” He responded. Orion grinned.
“Sweet, I'm right across from you, two-thirty-eight. Classes?”
“The usual. Advanced Mathematics in first. Second is Equish Lit-”
“Again?” Orion asked, surprised.
“Ah, this is the third course, my friend. This one discusses ancient sentence structuring. I'm curious why our ancestors wrote the way they did. I fear I will need the instruction when it is my turn to deal in the halls of Parliament. The wording used can be very tricky.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” The black pony said, turning left at the Tee, his friend on his heels. “What else?” He asked, eyeing his schedule. There had to be something they shared.
“Third is the Gymnasium. Then lunch.” He nodded, “followed by World History and finally the usual Applied Magic classes.” He finished, turning to his locker first.
Orion drifted over to his own, having to work the combination in twice before it unlocked and opened his storage. Shoving most of his things inside save for his first class’s book, he frowned, shutting the door and turning back to Fancy.
“Dude, we don't even have lunch together.” He really shouldn't have been as upset as he was. Yet, the thought of not seeing him at all annoyed him legitimately. “Wait? You don't have a sixth class?” The black pony asked.
“Ah, no. No, my friend. I fear I do not. Instead, I am to receive private tutoring at my estate.” He frowned. “In politicking and court etiquette.”
“Oof. That's rough, my dude.”
“Do not think you are going to escape it yourself. I imagine now that you're part of a nobelis’s family, you will have to be subjected to much the same as me.” His friend shot back with a knowing grin.
“Hah, no.” The smirk of triumph faded quickly. “We had that conversation just yesterday. I was very clear in my intention not to have anything to do with politics or the court itself.” He shrugged. “They didn't like it, but they've already acknowledged they can't make me do anything I don't want.” Orion chuckled. “Truth be told, I’m getting the strong feeling that they believe that they can work on me over time. But, I'm already not going to the family gathering in Manehattan this year. So currently, I am up by two in the battle of supremacy.”
“May I ask how you managed to convince them of that?” Fancy said with a frown.
“Simple, Clipper and his wives already know my history, specifically the couple of times where I clashed with the CFP out there in some way or another. I only had to imply how uncomfortable I might be to go there, and bam, no more Hearth’s Warming trip for me.”
“Isn't that a bit deceitful?” His friend gave him a slightly irritated glare. Fancy was never angry at someone; he just made you think so. Orion himself had long since learned his way around the pony’s temper.
“Not entirely. I do not really want another encounter with that organization if I can help it.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don't want to rush things with these people, and I don't have any loyalty to them either. Remember, I didn't want this to begin with.”
Fancy’s face softened. “I suppose that is a fair consideration.” He shook his head. “Orion, do not take advantage of these ponies. They have opened their home to you out of compassion. It would be a disservice to them for you to do so.”
“They opened their home to me because they want something, but I'm not trying to. I promise.” He shrugged, getting ready to separate and head to his own class, Ancient History of Equis. “I'm not all in either.”
“I understand,” Fancy said and reached over to give him a fist bump. Orion returned it, and the pair departed for their respective courses.
“Is this going to be an all-day thing?” He mentally grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth as he stared at the onlookers watching from their respective tables.
Apparently, word had gotten around quickly, and now he was the afternoon's entertainment for the entire school population. At least, everyone who could fit comfortably in the cafeteria. He could see a few outside with their noses pressed to the glass of the mezzanine. It would be funny if he weren't the source of their fascination.
Every now and then, one of them would lean over and whisper in the ear of another. Filly or colt, it didn't matter; they were all whispering. But their silent watching made his time in the cafeteria uncomfortable.
Even his teachers couldn't help but be happy that he had been brought into a nice, loving family. Translation: people who would put him in place more firmly than Mrs. Evergarden could have done.
“And the fact that I am trying to behave is just going to reinforce that mindset. Shit.”
The clatter of a lunch tray hitting the table startled him, and he turned to look up at Twilight Sparkle. He blinked in surprise before giving her a welcoming smile.
“Hey Twilight. Thought you were done with us normal plebeians. Or was that next year that you go under full-time private tutelage?”
Instead of answering him, she fixed him in an impassive gaze. Sitting down primly before turning to her sparse meal of greens and oats.
“Okay, weird. Maybe she's just had a bad day?”
Rather than choosing to annoy her until she responded, he let the girl have her personal time. Shrugging to himself, he went back to shoveling his own meal into his mouth while returning to balefully glaring at everyone who met his eyes till they looked away.
More whispers erupted when his friend sat down, and he found that somehow even more irritating.
“I have heard you've been adopted.” The tone gave him a chill. It was more about who it came from and the emotionless vibe it gave than the question posed.
“Uh, yeah, Twilight.” He turned to her again, regarding her with worry. “Your Princess kinda sprung it on me during our meeting last weekend and would not take no for an answer.”
“She is your Princess as well, Orion.” There was no warmth in his name. Even at her most irritated, she had never sounded like this cold.
“Fair, but I do not worship the ground she walks on, Twilight.” He placed his spoon down, appetite gone. “You do. And I don't appreciate how she boxed my rear into it. I'm not very happy with her at the moment.”
She huffed. “You don't seem to be happy with anything anypony does for you that is to your benefit.” She replied tersely, with more than a hint of venom in her words. The alarm bells rang in his head. A storm was brewing.
“Okay. You have beef with me. Fine. We will discuss this later.” He tried to keep the nervousness from his voice and projected a confident tone.
The plan to leave had always revolved around them drifting apart, and he planned to stick with it. Yet, with this level of hostility, she had entered into more than just the beginnings of a wreck of their friendship.
“This afternoon, the school’s library.” He hoped that would put her at ease when the time came to have whatever this was out. That and the isolation meant no one would likely be within earshot, but he would still cast a sound bubble just in case things got loud.
“Is that it? Just going to run away?” Orion's eyes narrowed at her scathing comment, and he leaned forward.
“Twilight, I do not intend the rumor mill to get more material than necessary. I am offering this solution for the sole benefit of not creating a fucking scene in the middle of the cafeteria.” He nodded as she turned away, her face flushing. Whether that was embarrassment or anger, he couldn't care less. She had pissed him off instantly by implying he was a coward, and whatever this new bone she wanted to gnaw on him about, she would not insult him on top of it. “Now, unless you do want to embarrass yourself, then fine, we can deal with whatever issue you have here and now.”
“Fine.” Grabbing her untouched food, she stood and walked stiffly away. He could only glare at the pony's back.
“What in the hell has gotten under her skin? Oh wait, me.”
The CSGU library was one of the few places in school where Orion actually felt that he could unwind and delve into his studies whenever and however he wanted. However, considering the subject of his more private inquiries, he rarely got a chance to.
Little sectioned-off cubby holes, which could accommodate up to five students at a time, dotted the various walls. Inside, booths and tables were built to be comfortable and used for intense study sessions.
This early in the year, no one wanted anything to do with the vast repository of knowledge. Choosing instead to catch up with each other after the summer holiday, the building often had a haunted feel during the fall months.
The absence of people meant it was perfect for Orion to hash out whatever was eating at Twilight, though he was pretty positive about what was bothering her.
During classes, ignoring his peers' stares, he worked over the issue in his mind and came to a possible solution. It really depended on Twilight and how angry she was. Now, it was just talking her around that would be his greatest challenge.
However, there was a problem. She wasn't there. It had been almost an hour since he had arrived, and his disappointment that the filly did not follow her usual punctual regimen of punctuality made him grind his teeth in worry.
“And she has the balls to claim I'm the one running away.” He groused, folding his arms, still waiting for her to appear.
“No. I suppose that was unfair of me.” Twilight spoke up next to him, once again startling him. Somehow, she came into view from nothing. Invisibility? She hadn’t taught him that, nor did his teachers offer lessons. All he knew of the various spells that hid things from sight were based on illusion training. Yet he hadn’t sensed anything of her either. And that was what disturbed him more.
“Jesus! Twilight!” He hissed, holding his hand over his heart. “Scared the hell out of me!”
When had she come in? How had he not felt her magic? His radar was completely trashed, but even he should have been able to at least sense her.
He had grown used to being able to pick out different magical signatures in the various people he spent time around. The griffons had, well, it wasn't a weak magic field but a different one, yet each griffon’s signature was different, just the same as it was for ponies. Or even Diamond Dogs, who had a different pattern to their magic altogether.
Twilight's signature was not only unique to her like everyone else's, but also much more powerful and hard as hell to ignore, which just baffled him even more as to why he hadn't sensed her at all.
“I was testing to see if my studies had been worthwhile in regards to potential suppression.” She said, and her power surged to its normal levels as the glow in her horn winked out.
“Huh, that's a neat trick.” He frowned, considering how useful that would be for him in the future. “But considering, according to the Princess, that is, not many out there have the talent to feel magic at its base strength within a person, I don't see the need for it.” A complete lie. Keeping the Princess from being able to find him would be a huge boon. He thought quickly. “Unless you found an application for it.”
“I have not. Not really, no.” She frowned, finally choosing to sit down from across from him. “But I haven't come to discuss theory with you.”
“Alright.” He said, and his horn burst to life as a darkened bubble of silence descended around them, making the outside world smokey. “Spill then. What's got your panties in a wad?”
“Is this really necessary?” She gestured toward the spell surrounding them.
“Twilight, you're a smart girl.” Her glare hardened. “That's not a shot across the bow, you are. What is your current mental state?”
She said nothing but nodded, getting his point.
“I am not trying to provoke you here. Something is bothering you, and I am trying to help my friend get through it. Even if-”
“Are we friends?” She interrupted, but he ignored her outburst.
“-that friend is pissed off with me.” He finished. “Now. Let's have it. What's wrong?”
“When did you get so mature!?” Her voice rose an octave. Well, she asked for it.
“Since I almost got eaten by a Roc.” He replied calmly. “Now, spill.”
Orion didn't want to be calm. He wanted to slap her. Rather than dealing with the problem, she was continuing to take stabs at his character for whatever reason that she wouldn't say.
Her purple eyes widened in surprise.
“A-a…Roc?” She more mouthed the word than actually said it, but he heard it well enough.
“Yes, a Roc. We can go into the fine details of my harrowing escape from the thing later. Twilight. Let's get to it.”
Shaking her head, the concern on her face was replaced by her contempt once more.
“Why did you go off on your own to Griffonia?” She asked testily.
“I went to Griffonia because a friend had been inviting me up there for years. The why is easy. I was bored out of my skull.” He flipped up his index finger into the air. “One, everyone I knew was gone. Hell, you were on vacation with your family in Prance, I think. Two,” another finger rose to join the first one, “I didn't want to be stuck either doing chores all summer at either the orphanage or making the bold choice to go down to Ponyville and being put out to work in the fields all damn day. For character no less.” His last finger rose. “And three, because I had been disappointing that friend for years by refusing every invitation she had sent me.” He laughed. “That girl mailed a lot of them. Paid tickets no less.”
“So you went, alone, unsupervised, to a country in turmoil without permission or notice.” She responded shortly.
“Oh, I gave notice, but there was no way I was asking permission of anyone.” He raised a hand to stop her obviously angry retort. “Ah ah! Twilight, we both know I would never have gotten permission. I will admit I broke the rules on that one. That's on me, but I don't regret it for a second.” He paused. “Okay…maybe for a second. That Roc was friggin' huge. But, I was also not unsupervised.”
“You were staying with a filly!”
“I was staying with a hen and her Uncle, Aunt, and a whole bunch of guards.” He not so calmly replied.
“W-what?” Twilight sounded surprised, and Orion was a bit baffled by her response.
“Yooouu…didn't know?” He asked, confused. An eyebrow of hers rose.
“Know what?”
“Wait.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “What do you know first of all so I can piece this together as best I can.” Sitting back, he interlocked his fingers to keep from fidgeting. “Start from the beginning, please.”
Twilight took a deep breath and gave him the once-over that all women can do when they are not sure if they're being messed with or not.
“I went to the Orphanage after my family and I’s vacation was cut short due to my brother being recalled.” She began. “I wanted to show you some things I got in Prance and maybe ask you to come spend time with me.” She flushed. This time, what he was certain was embarrassment. “Instead, Mrs. Evergarden informed me that you had left for Griffonia over two weeks ago and showed me the letter you left.”
“And the follow-up with the Princess?” He asked, having a sinking feeling he knew where this was going.
“She told me what amounted to the same thing that you ran off to spend time with a…a hen…named Screaming Rush. That my brother and a team of ponies had been sent after you!” She finished, practically shouting at him. A wise decision, the sound bubble.
“Ooooh, Celestia, you stupid bitch.” He groaned and smacked his head on the table, narrowly missing jarring his horn on the hard polished wood.
For a moment, neither spoke. He couldn't see her face but could imagine her surprised expression at his act of near self-harm. Snorting dryly, he raised his head and scowled.
“Twilight, do you actually know who Screaming Rush is?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out as her eyes widened in concern. “No?” She whispered at last.
“Well, if I'm being fair, neither did I.” He chuckled. “I did suspect she got adopted by a wealthy family, considering the cost and effort that had gone into finding one little hen in the capital of Equestria. So I anticipated adults to be around us at all times.” He carefully put aside thoughts and images of one such adult. At this moment, bursting into tears like he had the other night was not in his best interest. “But I was wrong. It wasn't just parents, but an Aunt and Uncle that had sprung her from the big house.” He laughed at his own joke. “Who just so happened to be the King and Queen of Griffonia itself.”
Twilight's eyes widened almost comically, and her mouth flopped open. “W-w-wha-what?!”
“Yep, turns out your boy is now on speaking terms with two sets of monarchies.” He grinned at her. “Screaming Rush’s real name is Grace Fairheart. Twelfth in line for the Crown of Wings, or something like it.” He shook his head. “Never saw the crown, but I bet it has wings on it.”
“Its official name is the Crown of Boreus. It is said to depict their founder's wings as a circlet with a great green gem held between them. That part is meant to rest on the forehead.” She replied, almost in a daze.
“Huh, should have asked about that. All I ever heard mention was the Wings thing.” He shrugged. “So anyway. Turns out, my friend from foalhood is a damn noble!” His smile broadened. “So get this, during the food riots…”
“After that, she got a letter from home and called the tour short.” He explained. “By then, it had gotten boring anyways. I think we were both facing travel fatigue by that time and once you've seen one griffon village, ya kinda seen them all.” He shrugged. “So we stopped by at Grapple, bid goodbye, and she fucked off home, and so did I.”
Twilight was in a weird sort of rapt daze. During his wildly outrageous and heavily censored tale, she had produced a stack of papers and had begun writing notes. He figured that was a good sign that she was not truly pissed at him anymore.
His information dump on the poor mare had been twofold in purpose.
One was to lie to her as creatively and as honestly as possible. There was no way he could tell her the truth, that the griffons were on their way to power once more thanks to him merely confirming what he already knew.
The second was a much simpler reason. If he had shocked her enough with his tale, she might have let her anger go completely—or at least been reduced to a simmer instead of the unyielding rage he had seen in her eyes this afternoon in the cafeteria.
“Orion…that's…I mean…you…” His friend struggled to find the right words, one hand flailing about, looking back over her notes.
“I know. Largely boring. Except for Neighbon, y'all really should go next time you get a chance at vacation. Stay away from douchebag merchant sons, though. They're a pain in the ass.”
“You rejected her.” She said quietly.
“Oh, why do I have so much charm now? Women actively avoided my skeezy ass on a regular basis. Now I have to damn near fight to keep ‘em off me.” He thought bitterly. “This gender role reversal is bullshit. Is this what women back on earth have to deal with all the fucking time?”
“Yeah, I did. For the reasons I listed before.” He responded. “I am not looking to get tied down for some years to come.” Such an event may never happen, but he kept that sentiment to himself.
“I know,” Twilight said after a moment. “I just…when I heard…” The loose clutter of papers began to organize themselves in her magic field till a small stack sat before her.
“What you thought was that I had changed my mind and had run off to hoo-ha land to get my dick wet. That's what you thought, Twilight.” Shaking his head, he let silence fall as something was nagging at him.
“Hey,” drumming his fingers nervously, catching her attention. “You said something earlier. About your brother? What was that about?”
Twilight gave him an unreadable look, her eyes searching his own. “She didn't tell you anything either.” Sighing heavily, she leaned forward, a bit of the anger she had from earlier coming to her eyes.
“The team sent to find you, the R.O.V.E.R.S.,” she spelled that out, “was led by my brother.”
Orion sat numbly, staring at her. “Your brother. As in Shining Armor.”
“Yes.”
That explained a great deal of her irritation at him.
“Are you telling me that Celestia pulled your brother off his vacation to come chase my happy ass across the nation of Griffonia?”
“Yes, Orion.” Twilight seemed puzzled by his confusion. “Is everything okay?”
The black pony eyed the table again, running the math on how much force it would take to make him permanently special. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Okay,” he began slowly, taking a deep breath. “So not only did the Princess pull your brother from the vacay,” he opened his eyes, “she sent him after me, of which, obviously, we never ran into each other, and he never found me.” He paused, a look of alarm washing over him. “Oh shit! Was he one of the ponies to get hurt?!”
“No!” Twilight shook her head vigorously. “No. Thank Celestia; he was not one of the ponies who got hurt. All I know is that one or more of his team was injured during their search.” She shrugged. His concern for her brother’s safety seemed to mollify her anger somewhat a bit more.
“You know,” Orion began.
“Oh, hush.” She snapped at him. “I know it was the Princess who sent him there!” She paused. Her mouth moved, but no words left her throat as she realized just what she had said.
“Wait…a…minute.” The black pony leaned forward, fighting the grin that wanted to spring onto his face. “You're actually angry with Celestia's big ass too. Aren't you?”
Twilight Sparkle blushed furiously and buried her head into her hands.
“Wow.” He couldn't help it. A smirk broke through. “Look at you. All pissed at the big lady in her tower.”
“Shut up.” Her muffled demand only made him giggle. “It's not funny!” She snapped, glaring at him between her fingers.
“Sure it is,” he shot back, “the fact that her own, most loyal of students, is angry that she got sidelined on the information pipeline like everyone else is pretty damn funny.” He shook his head, noticing the increase in her heated glare. “Okay, maybe I'm being a bit spiteful-”
“A bit?!”
“-but from the point of someone constantly getting dumped on by her, it's just amusing to see the other end of it.” He sighed. “A few days ago, she blindsided me with this whole ass adoption nonsense.” Scoffing and waving a hand as if to dispel an evil air. “Say what ya want, but she has the “Queen of Manipulation” down to a science. I didn't even see it coming. I thought she was sending my ass to boot camp.”
“Yes,” she nodded, her own hands falling to clasp in front of her. “Though, I like to believe she does it for a good reason.”
Orion found himself in agreement. Bitterly so, which was somewhat of a surprise. “Well,” he began slowly, “you gotta think about what she has to deal with. Not just the jackasses in court but the nobles of other nations. Not to mention, your average citizen…well, I wouldn't call them stupid.” He shrugged. “But definitely unaware. Most of us just go on with our lives, not really worrying too much about what our leadership is up to. I mean, for most, it's a matter of priorities.” Similar in much the same way his old home used to be regarding most things. Just believe what they're told no matter the cost because life is just easier that way.
Fancy had been correct.
“Huh, perhaps that's why I distrust her so much.” The idea that he may be projecting what he went through from before his arrival to this world on the mare hadn't really occurred to him before. “Though, there is still the whole hunt for me going on. What's the bounty up to now?” Not to mention that incident in the throne room with Golden and his dad. There was certainly something not quite right about that reaction.
“Hey, Sparky.” Her eyes snapped at him, annoyed at the return of one of the many nicknames he had so far badgered her with. “Easy there, hot stuff. Just curious, what's the bounty on someone turning me in these days?”
“What? Turning…you…oh!” She flushed. “The Princess has actually rescinded the bounty.”
“Reeeeeally?” He was surprised.
“I know!” She exclaimed. “I am not sure as to why she did, but it was announced at the beginning of the summer.”
“Huh.” He sat and thought about it for a moment. “Perhaps there have been a lot of random people turned in for the reward, and it's likely gotten tedious. That's the only way I can see a reason for it.”
“I…actually, you are likely correct. Until recently, many bounty hunters had been coming in with ponies in chains.” She shook her head. “I should have put two and two together.”
“Eeeh, I wouldn't worry about it too much.” He drummed his fingers on the table. He wanted to avoid asking, but with their friendship on such a tenuous balance point, he was going to have to ask. The how was eluding him, however.
“No, Orion.” She spoke up, interrupting his train of thought. “I will never turn you in.”
“Oh. Um, awesome.” He laughed. “Sorry, I didn't know how to bring it up in casual conversation. Why, though?” He wanted to punch his brain and his mouth.
“Orion, I am upset with you mostly because you keep getting away with things no other foal I've ever heard of has. I mean, to beat Blueblood and his friends like that was really terrible.” He opened his mouth, but she rolled right over him. “Then, even before that! Mr. Cottonridge!” She shook her head. “I'm not sure what it is you did in Ponyville, but I can't imagine-”
“Mostly physical labor.” He butted in. “That and I was a teacher's aide for a bit.” Sighing, he made sure to lock eyes with Twilight. “But, two things. First and foremost, Cottonridge got what he deserved. My only regret was I wasn't the one to nail him in the junk. That asshole tried to kill me!”
“Because you put yourself in that situation!” She snapped back.
“Oh, yeah, because my conscious would have loved to shoulder the fuckin’ burden of knowing I abandoned someone that was about to get raped!” He shot in return. For his efforts, her face visibly paled. “Yeeeah, not sure if you knew the details or ever looked into the event, but Cottonridge was a pedophile, a literal colt-diddler. He was trying to rape a colt. He likely had already done it before, considering the reaction from the poor kid. Had I not noticed, that poor guy would have likely still been tormented to this day.” Realizing he had stood up to loom over his friend, he slammed his flanks back down into the cushioned seat, narrowly avoiding pinching his tail.
“I…I never knew.” Twilight whispered.
“I don't think many did. I mean,” he scoffed, “the court case came out, and the media did talk about it. I just think it eventually got swept under the rug like everything else. People just stopped talking about it after a while.” He sighed. “I don't even think it was a grand conspiracy. That kinda shit,” he snorted, “is a stain on society. No one likes being confronted or reminded about that sorta thing.”
“Yes…I didn't understand what was happening back then. Only that a lot of adults were upset, and the Princess was really bothered by something.” Twilight shrugged uncomfortably.
Memories of being choked with the intent to kill him resurfaced, mirrored by the more recent and nearly fatal attempted stabbing in the north. He hadn't realized when he started doing it, but he snatched his hand away from his stomach. The scar there sometimes itched for no reason, he could tell, but it mostly occurred during thoughts like this, and he found himself rubbing the scar where the blade had cut him.
“The second thing?” Her voice soothed his mind, and he looked up to see her eyes peering into his.
“Huh?” Orion mumbled.
“I asked about the second thing.” Worry creased her features. “Are you okay?
“I'm fine. Just…tired.” He sighed. “Everything that's happened in the last week has been hard to wrap my head around.” Clearing his throat, he straightened himself and interlaced his fingers on the table. “As to the second thing, Blueblood? I beat the hell out of Golden Trot, sure. Celestia is the one that nearly torched the pair of them herself, remember?”
“Oh! You didn't hear?”
“No, but I imagine you're gonna tell me real quick like.”
“Quite you,” Twilight muttered. “I guess that you didn't hear, seeing as you were off leading my brother on a chase across Griffonia.” She tried to smile to take the sting out of those words, but it was more of a grimace. “Golden is officially the heir to the Platinum bloodline.”
“Okay, not to repeat a word I've already said before, but huh?”
“Orion,” she sighed. “I am going just assume you know very little of Equestrian politics-”
“I try to avoid it as much as possible.”
“–and I'll just tell you what has been going on.” She fixed him with a hard stare at his interruption. “Currently, there is only one known Platinum bloodline, The Bluebloods.”
“Great. Lecture mode activated.” He nodded, and she proceeded on.
“The Bluebloods have, by all accounts, remained unbroken since Unification. However, that is due in large part to lineage practices.” She flushed. “This is…not the first time a pony, a colt, was adopted into their ranks. Golden Trot is just the latest.”
“Okay, what has that to do with him getting a name change and becoming heir?”
“I am getting to that, Orion.” Twilight said peevishly. “This practice is done often out of necessity. Colts are rarely sired in their familial history, so it often comes down to a case of adoptions.” Her blush deepend. “The adoptee usually comes into the family with fillies already birthed. By family decree, that colt is often engaged to one or more of them. Thus carrying on the Platinum bloodline. As is the case of Golden Trot. He is engaged to wed two of his sisters upon graduation. In so doing, he has become Blueblood the twenty-eighth.”
Orion’s face scrunched up in mild disgust.
“I know, it's not technically incest, but that's incest. He grew up with those fillies, and now he's going to bang out the next generation of Habsburgs with ‘em?”
“The who?”
“Uh… never mind, just…wow.” He shook his head. “Old Golden won, but at what cost?” He chuckled.
“It's not incest, Orion. Special provisions in the adoption paperwork make his status as the guarded. The Bluebloods are, or were, in this case, his guardians. Meaning he technically, until the marriage commitments were declared, was merely a ward of the estate.”
“Yeah…still fucking weird.” He shook his head. “The Twenty-eighth? Damn, they've been doing this longer than the Founding.”
“Not quite. For a while, many nobles blamed Princess Platinum for betraying them to what they considered “lesser ponies” and subsequently killed her descendants in retribution. Hence why the Bluebloods had to resort to such methodology in their family lineage.”
“They outbanged their killers.” He stated flatly.
“On the bases of terms, yes.” Twilight shook her head. “Really? Can one conversation pass without you…dirtying it?”
“Heh, sorry.” One would think by now she would get over his crass phrasing. “The way she carries on, you'd think a new stick replaced the old beaten-down one that had been shoved into her ass at birth.”
Seconds ticked by as he searched for something to say. Twilight seemed equally at a loss as her fingers constantly fiddled with themselves in her clenched hands.
It was she who ended up breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Orion, I'm still upset with you.” He nearly groaned in exasperation. “What you did jeopardize the lives of good ponies.” Her face screwed up. “And while I…agree that you don't have any obligation to anypony when you make a choice, it still resulted in a great deal of danger for the team that was sent to find you.”
It was a near repeat of what Celestia had told him. Almost verbatim.
“If you expect an apology from me, I would not suggest holding your breath.” He muttered.
“Orion.”
“I know!” He snapped, finally losing the composure he had maintained throughout the entire conversation. “I know. I…I feel bad for the folks that got hurt. Really, I do. But that's not my fault!”
“But-”
“The only reason they were sent up there after me was because of you!” He shot a finger at her as somewhere in his mind, a version of himself was trying very hard to reign him in. “Because I'm friends with you! Celestia could give a damn about me otherwise!” He was running on full power, ignoring the warning sirens in his head that urged him to stop. “She just doesn't want her precious protegé getting messed up because I went and either got hurt or, worse, killed!”
“Wha-”
“Oh, please.” Orion scoffed at her stunned face, unable to stop the tirade of words pouring out of his mouth. “I already told ya you're a smart girl. You can fuckin' figure that shit out. Yes, I'm a weird guy, something Celestia would have taken notice of, if only as a mild curiosity, if nothing else. Otherwise, I'd have been just a blip on her radar.” He chuckled bitterly. “And who could blame her? I don't like her personally, but she rules a nation. A nation, mind you, that, while secure in its borders, still deal with bullshit from time to time. Whether that's upstart rebellions, of which I've learned there have been three, or one dumbass colt just trying to live his life as free as he can.”
Finished, he sat back and let go of a sigh. Without saying a word, he spread his hands and gestured toward Twilight for a response.
Said response came in a controlled rise from her bench, and she simply left. Tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Well. Shit.”
He would most certainly be getting a letter about this, if not a personal visit. Double shit.
Twilight's pace picked up as she crossed the center of the quad toward one of the few waiting carriages sitting at the pick-up point. The Princess’s mark emblazoned on the side was always an easy spot, though seeing it now brought no comfort to the confusion and frustration brewing within her.
Her mind was awash with conflicting thoughts. It was clear to her that Orion had undergone so much stress from the last few weeks that he could not keep his temper in check, no matter how much she saw him try.
“No, do not make excuses for him. What he said about the Princess was not right. Or what he said about our…friend…ship.” What he had implied about their friendship.
Her legs stopped, seemingly of their own accord. She had always known that possibility, but to have it thrown in her face like that was beyond what she was prepared to deal with.
It was not fair. He had, perhaps rightfully, flung responsibility away from himself about her brother's harrowing experience in the North. Yet, her brother was put in harm's way because of him. A pony had lost her arm in service to find an ungrateful colt who used a technicality to worm his way out of any culpability. He didn't even show any real remorse!
His repeated declaration of feeling bad was not enough. Not to her, not anymore.
It was always like this. He would do something to upset her or others, and he would either ignore it outright or inform the wounded party to accept what had happened without any true humility.
As she thought about his previous actions and statements more, Twilight began to realize that Orion had been controlling their friendship to his whims in much the same fashion.
Forcing her to stay silent about what he was capable of, berating her when she was merely trying to get his attention, and outright avoiding her more often than not when it suited him. Only coming to her after he had exhausted all other avenues of his own in the pursuit of knowledge.
Were they even really friends? What was a friend to him? Or to her?
True, she had found a bond with some of the fillies her age over the years, but there was always a gap. A distance that no pony had ever tried to cross for her. Certainly, Orion hadn't, though he did at least treat her like a normal pony.
She scowled in frustration and was startled when she blinked. Her vision was fuzzy. Wiping her face, she found moisture on her fingers. She was, or had been, crying.
Squeezing her eyes shut tightly to stamp out the tears, she resumed walking toward the awaiting royal carriage.
“I…I think…I…I think I have to stay…away from him.” For how long, Twilight Sparkle just didn’t know.
Author's Note
Well, the Hits start coming and they don't stop coming
A little liberal with the lyrics, but Smash Mouth's All Star will likely be the theme for Orion's life here on out. Buckle up boys, and possibly girls, its about to get heavy.
Hope you all had a stellar weekend. Once again, I plan to be in the comments(if there are any) answering questions and being a general shit.
OH! Good news, I got inspired and have already begun working on the next Arc with enthusiasm. Meaning you may not have to wait as long to see the next ten or so chapters after this one is done.
Wish me luck!
Thanks for Reading!
Peace!
Hoof tapping irritability against the familiar old pocked marked stone beneath his stool, Orion scowled at the sheet of paper before him.
“Why is the math…not…not…mathing!?”
The quill in his hand trembled as he gripped it tightly in exasperation. It had already etched a line of black, creating a slight tear mark across the edge of the page. Evidence of his frustration at the formula in physical form. His other hand aimlessly tapped at his muzzle as he relentlessly sought an answer for his current predicament.
Head turning this way and that, he just could not puzzle what was wrong.
For one thing, he learned exactly why the Radar spell, more a program to his mind than anything else, had gone haywire and nearly blew up in his face. His original hypothesis had been wrong, somewhat.
Rangefinder did, in fact, pull code from Radar , that had been his correct assessment.
The mangled mess he had tried and failed to untangle was proof of that. Where the circuits were interconnected, he could see feedback loops that had been created to compensate for the increased load. They had not been in the original spell structure he had intended to create.
The reason was simple, however, only now in hindsight. Both spells mirrored some of their code with one another. That's where the fusion had happened and the loops had been created to accommodate the increased resistances that had formed due to the overlap.
This had surprised him somewhat and made him think that magic wasn't just a mindless thing after all. What should have happened is that a new brief sun should have appeared in place of the carriage Grace and he had ridden in on that summer day.
But that begged the question: “How?”
How had it known to ground itself immediately in what he could only assume was a higher dimensional layer of reality?
“Come to think of it, that's the same layer mana and supposed spirits and things like it exist on. Right?”
While it was true that mana existed in all life, rock and ore not to be excluded, it also primarily occupied a layer of reality above their existence. Or around them.
Mrs. Reflected Surface, last year's Magical Studies professor, had been a bit wonky on the details. He wasn't even sure if she herself knew exactly how it worked, but she made a point to at least appear the foremost authority on the subject while avoiding his questions on the matter. That, in turn, made him believe that her postulations were a lie, or at least not as accurate as she claimed.
In any case, mana actually used their layer of space-time to bleed through. Again, the reason was unknown, but the effect was interesting as far as life was concerned. By bleeding into their reality, it then, through conscious or unconscious use, bled back into the higher plane of existence, with creatures and such just existing or using their innate skills, expending the power, or force, back into the ether, creating a bond that cemented the two separate planes almost as one.
It seemed parasitical to Orion, but he couldn't see any ill effects from it so far on the planet.
“Perhaps that's why Earth didn't have magic. Never had a chance to form that bond.” It was an interesting line of thought, and if he weren't so frustrated with his current predicament, he'd likely chase it into the inevitable rabbit hole it would become.
Instead, he ground his teeth at the paper, the half-assed formula written there offending him with its stupid lack of mathing.
The black pony knew what he needed to do. Leave it alone. Take a break and come back with fresh eyes next week. Let it work over in his head some more, and maybe he could figure out the issue while neck-deep in other studies.
But that was the problem.
He would have to wait till next week before he could sneak back down into his makeshift lab and/or smithing hidey-hole. So even if he had a eureka moment, he couldn't risk writing it down in case someone went snooping where they ought not to be.
When he had first settled into the home of the Shipwrights, he had taken his time getting to know them. More importantly, know the family's routine. Not hard to do as the servants and family almost seemed locked into their habits.
Breakfast was at seven a.m. sharp. The parents were always gone by seven, at minimum. They typically got up near five or five thirty, depending on how rowdy the three got in their room. He only learned that because he had recently gotten the Radar back in working order and had used it to scan the whole building to learn just where everyone was. That had been embarrassing.
Breakfast eaten, the kids filed out to school between seven-thirty and seven forty-five depending on their school start time. Orion left at seven-thirty himself because he didn’t want a repeat of his first day back.
In the afternoon, they all began trickling in by three. The girls typically beat him home, as he had longer to travel. Dinner was solidly at six p.m. every night. Everyone was in bed by ten p.m. unless there was a party or some such nonsense, and that was only on the weekend.
Routine to a Tee.
Once the lights were out, that left him time to explore. He still hoped they never wondered what happened to the two earrings and small pouch of gold Emerald Bowspirit had left on the dining room table the second week he had begun living there. With the discovery of those items, he remade his Radar and began his search for a way into the sewers with vigor.
Fortunately, it did not take him long. Upon finding an old, worn-out grate in a derelict portion of the mansion’s northern cellar, he decided to explore his options the best he could in getting to his hidden workspace that was back on the second plate.
What those options ended up being was not what he had hoped for. Or expected.
Directly below his new home was a very clean, very orderly sewer system that was much bigger. It had almost canal-sized waterways in which one could and apparently did, have small boats go up and down them at all hours of the day and night. It was complete with several private cisterns, of which he did not doubt belonged to the ultra-wealthy, and maintenance rooms. His adopters had their own, in fact. Yet, fortunately, they had yet to position their own guards there.
This did not initially bother him; it was actually promising that he might be able to find a place to move his things closer to home, which would save him time.
What stopped those burgeoning plans and alarmed him was a minor population the size of a small town of workers and soldiers that managed the whole system. Seemingly twenty-four-seven. A complete change to the almost negligent workforce that managed the second and third plates.
Then, there were several units of private security forces that patrolled short distances from their designated zones.
He guessed it made sense, though he only admitted to that after he got over his fury at seeing his ideas dashed. With all the wealthy ponies in one location, they would want someone to guard against possible thieves. The problem he had with that was that they were a private force—not the City Guard or the EAF, either. Private, which meant they likely did not ask questions before the stabbing.
Their uniforms, armor with tabards of black and silver, were entirely different from the norm. Even that armor had been painted or lacquered a deep black and a small design on the breast, marking them out to a house they served under. What was the purpose of all that, though?
“What kinda illegal shit are they up to down here?”
The answer came in the form of contraband that he had spotted being shipped in one Tuesday evening. Specifically, something called the “Salt”, though there were others.
He had listened in on a pair of mercs cussing up a storm as they had to haul several boxes off a slim boat designed for canal work into the private cellar of whoever lived to the southeast, just outside the castle boundaries. Apparently, this salt weighed a ton, and while bigwigs were willing to spend big cash on it, the help got barely more than dregs, which left them grumbling and likely pinching some for their own stash.
Orion had to admit, the balls to do this in such close approximation of the castle, and more specifically Celestia herself, was downright impressive, if a little idiotic. Perhaps that was the brilliance in the plan. No one would suspect someone of being that crazy.
He had thought he might snag a little bit of the stuff for himself just to see what the fuss was about, but with the number of guards just standing around with nothing to do but pounce, it seemed better if he just sat his happy ass in the small overflow tunnel and continued to take notes.
There would be time to partake in illicit pony drugs later.
He also decided to steer clear of any canal systems that connected to the castle as well. There was absolutely no chance he was going to risk discovery by any of her Highness’s guards, who stuck to the areas around the palace like a tick on a dog.
There was also a cave system. He wasn't sure how deep or far it went, but the entrance was tiny. Oddly enough, there were crystals that hemmed the entrance and had staked a claim over a short portion of the sewer itself. The way those gems faintly glowed made him think he might have found a source for more ambitious projects.
Yet, of course, there was a force to protect the resource.
However, they were far and away, different from the other soldiers traipsing about down there.
Unlike the mercs, who dressed in utilitarian combat gear of dulled black and silver, or the city guard in their resplendent white, purple, and gold, these soldiers' armor was very different.
They wore plate armor of what looked to be black steel, just like the mercs. At first, they looked bulky to him, and their armor hid their features really well, to the point that their species was left undetermined. With so much metal weighing them down, he thought they were a waste in the sewer systems, no matter how static their position was.
Or, Orion thought that until he watched a small turf war that broke out between the mercs and these yet-identified soldiers.
The way they moved was frighteningly fast and was yet another reminder that his self-buffs barely put him ahead of others. It was so weird watching them fight. Like they were one body with multiple limbs, striking out and pulling down their foes.
In the end, the private forces fled with their wounded pride and their wounded ponies, those that survived or hadn’t gone missing in the tussle. Yet, questions for him still remained: who were these soldiers, and why did they never say a word to anyone? Not even each other. And why had no one outed them yet? Even the workers who went about patching and cleaning avoided their tunnels, almost like they had been ordered not to.
Another mystery that he would have to look into. If and when he had the time.
The real issue wasn't the patrols, though they were a hassle to avoid, yes. But for the most part, the castle guard was content with sticking near the territories of the palace itself. They never moved deeper into the canals and waterways, and whatever jurisdiction they worked out with the other groups seemed to have been long since established. The mercs patrolled near the cisterns of their individual clients, and the black armored figures that occupied the lone cavern in the place kept strictly to the cave territory, never crossing paths with any group save for the mercs.
“Those fuckin' guards just standing there are the real problem.”
A team of at least three guards was located at every byway and passage to the second plate. They were the City Guard, to be specific, dressed similarly to the Castle Guard themselves. From what he could tell, they rotated duty shifts every six hours and never let anyone in or out without official documentation.
That would include himself if he was dumb enough to try sauntering on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Some deal had been made between the mercs and them, of course. He had seen the bag of bits change hands when they came through with whatever contraband they had aboard their slim boats, which begged another question. How in the hell did he never encounter them before now in the second plate sewer tunnels? It was obvious they were sticking strictly with the sewers for delivery. Yet, he had never stumbled upon or noticed their presence down on the second plate.
More questions for another time. There were far, far too many of those.
Unfortunately, there was no way to distract or trick them into leaving their post, either. When he tried to make a noise to pull their attention away from the entrance with a random sound loud enough to be alarming, they remained in place, instead calling in a force from above to go check it out.
He had briefly considered trying to start a turf war between all four factions. The maintenance teams would no doubt hightail it out of there, so he wasn't worried for their safety. But the only time anyone actually came into contact was always the mercs and the black armored mystery squad. Neither the City nor Castle Forces ever moved from their spots.
In the end, he was stuck with only one option, a surface trip on the weekends that looked like he was wandering aimlessly through Canterlot’s streets. And that meant he would be confined to weekend trips as the Shipwrights were very strict about when a colt, regardless of age or intelligence, could leave the residence. They didn't want him wandering after dark. They didn't want him to potentially get in any danger at all. Exactly what he had feared would happen should he have been adopted, and he had argued with them for hours, never getting anywhere.
Even Clipper, who he thought would at least champion his position, was firmly against him.
He had yet to bring up the fact that they had essentially lied to him that afternoon in Celestia’s stateroom. It was best not to use that ammunition just yet, as he didn't know when he might really need it.
He sighed, placing the quill in the catch on the table, and pushed away from his work. Turning, he glanced around at his workshop.
In just a couple of months and some change that he had been gone, his little hole in the wall had developed quite a collection of dust and mold while he had been away. The fungi had been especially trying as they had grown in the corners of the chamber and had been particularly resistant to being scrubbed out. The dust, well, it had been simple dust and thankfully been swept away with ease.
The small anvil had largely avoided any problems as he had wrapped it in cloth saturated with oil, keeping rust and moisture at bay. But the stump he had smuggled down had grown mushrooms and had to be burned out and retreated. Fortunately, he saved the wood before it got worse.
Standing, the stool he had been using wobbled noisily as his weight came off. He walked over to the bins holding his raw materials and did a quick assessment of how much was left. He’d have to fix that eventually.
“Shit. I'm running dangerously low on those gems. Fuck, gold too.”
The necklace he had stolen so long ago had been broken down, and the gold had melted, preparing him to take his first steps into what he now admitted might have been a mistake of judgment: Artification.
He tilted the box back, and three gems, a green and two blues, rolled towards him.
“Fuck, they're the worst ones too.” Letting the box go disappointedly, he sighed again. “I ain't stealing shit again. And there is no way in hell I'm robbing the Shipwrights a second time. For one thing, I'm pretty sure Emerald will eventually notice some of her jewelry has gone missing.”
Attending one of the many parties the family went to during the week and stealing from their hosts was also out of the question. Even at a physical glance, he had noticed that the security within those wealthy fools' homes was a bit zealous. It made him grateful that his adoptive family had limited their own security to just a few retired EAF members. Friendly, and with families of their own they were far more concerned about, they largely left him alone unless passing him by.
It was a miracle that they did not patrol the family cistern, either—or at least, not yet. All it would take is one idiot trying to sneak in.
With a groan, he realized his only source was going to be the Master Smith, Forager. In his old life, he would not have even batted an eyelash at taking advantage of another person. Now, as he contemplated what to do, he felt terrible just waltzing into the minotaur’s shop to ask for a handout again. It wasn't right.
Yet, without those materials, he was getting dangerously close to stalling out on his studies, and his recent class on Dark Magic had been eye-opening.
“Welp, there goes yet another weekend.” There was no choice. Perhaps seeing the old bull would give him options. Something he was not seeing that Forager Broadhammer could. Perhaps they could work out the old deal they had held to last time.
Forager sighed, hanging up his hammer on the well-anchored pair of pegs on the wall. It had been a good day's work, and his arms bore the comfortable soreness of his profession.
The old bull frowned and flexed his fingers a bit, and he found himself disgusted at the stiffness that had recently begun settling into the joints of his digits.
“Fires of the Forage, I thought I'd have a bit more time before that began to show.”
At eighty-eight, he considered himself to be in good health for a bull just entering his middle years. Yet, hammerhand had always been on the horizon for him since he first picked up the sledge. All smiths of iron and steel met this fate eventually.
“Still, I thought I'd have more time.” He lamented.
However, this was also a signal for the old bull. It was time to start looking for an apprentice in earnest. His daughter, Duula, had been his intended heir. But as she developed, perhaps in large part due to their location in Equestria, she had taken a different route from his own. Her intricate work in jewelry and delicate repair was second to none in the pony capital, but it also meant her deftness with a hammer drifted to the lighter instruments of her use, then to his more heavy-handed ones and the projects those involved.
Their talents had diverged, and while she was more than capable of taking on the heavier orders, her skill would just never be what he held.
“Father, the colt's back.” His daughter’s amused voice broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to see her lithe frame barely taking up the large entrance into his workshop.
“Might be high time we take a trip back to Minos.” If he were to see grandcalfs anytime soon, she would need to find a proper bull, one that would care for her and compliment her talents. Any less would shame him, and her passed mother.
Finding one out here was a gamble at best. Not many left their homeland willingly, and those who did were so spread out that it was hard to pinpoint their locations with any certainty, which was the intent.
Then there were the Nomads.
Bulls and Heifers who were shunned by Minos for various reasons. Alleged crimes mostly that had gone unproven by either a lack of evidence or paying off the right people. In either case, often, the ones caught in situations like that were “encouraged” to leave outright, never to return again. This was often done by the families themselves to avoid scandals. No one wanted that kind of stink soaked into their aprons.
It was not even due to the act that got them thrown into the light of public scrutiny, it was getting caught in general that prompted kin to turn their backs on their own. Such was the way of Minos and all of its citizens.
Still, Nomads were out of the question for his daughter, no matter how innocent the crime. She would have a proper Bull with the right connections to take her own business and talents higher.
“Father?” Duula asked softly, concern on her soft features.
Shaking his head, he gave her a worn smile.
“I'm sorry, little one. I fear I was lost in thought.” He shrugged. “Thinkin’ of the future and all that.” He chuckled.
“Oh…um, well, he is here.” There was no reason for her to explain further. The only “he” she spoke of in that way was Orion Falls.
That pony had been a source of many night's lost sleep. Ever since he had stepped into his forge and done the impossible, the smith had felt like a knife hung over his neck. Forager now and then feared he had made a grave mistake in attempting to embarrass the pony as he had done. It had backfired remarkably.
His duty, brought on by his Sire through family ties, urged him to report what had happened immediately to the Emperor. The only reason he had yet to do so was the foal’s own desire to remain undetected. This confused the old smith, as most with a unique skill or talent proudly boasted their abilities, and rather than do his duty, he chose to wait and see what Orion would do first, and damn be the consequences.
His growth in talent, untaught as it is, was something of a shock. His understanding of how and why spells worked the way they did once permanently placed in items was alarming. Each visit, each new item shown, only caused him to further second guess his own actions.
Yet, he held his hand from writing a missive that would have the pony vanish from Equestria.
For one, he was uncertain as to what fate would befall someone like him. There were rumors. Murder, theft of items, and outright disappearances, of course. Yet, if not death, was there a worse fate?
The second, possibly the worst reason, is that he liked the fiery little colt. His attitude was akin to one of his own, aggressive and stubborn, a personality he often missed being stuck outside his nation as he was. Orion was just a likable Bull in pony form to the smith.
“Send ‘im in.” He said, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against his old anvil, the same that shared a blood bond between the two. “I wonder what nonsense he's gonna bury my time with now.”
Nodding with a smirk, his daughter walked off and was soon replaced by the pony himself.
Forager took a measure of him and was startled somewhat by what he found.
Orion was taller now, almost capable of meeting him at eye level. The old Bull had never been a giant among his species, yet a pony, much less a unicorn, was rarely born that could meet his height. Yet here the colt stood, not needing to crane his neck up to meet his gaze as he once had.
He had let that silly goatee grow out more, now taking up a substantial portion of his jawline. Yet, now, as he took the rest of him in, his opinion on the extra facial fuzz might have been misplaced. It fit him somehow, now.
Though, that may have been due to the eyes that now met his own.
There was a hardness there that hadn't existed when they had last spoken in person, and they had already been pretty hard then, too.
The way the corners were tightened as if under stress. Orion’s eyes had always been stonier than most ponies he had met, but his gaze now seemed to have become steel.
“What ‘appened, colt?”
Forager stared hard at the pony who had just spilled possibly the strangest, and most unbelievable story he had ever heard.
“Though, if what he says is true, that explains the recent messages I've been getting.” The Bull thought.
His true leader, Emperor Ironblood, had been sending ambassadors and merchants out for the past few months. The change in Minos’s foreign diplomacy had been rumored for years, so it wasn't a huge surprise when it occurred early this very summer.
What had been was Ironblood's own journey from the capital to Griffonstone itself. A personal visit from the Minotaur Emperor to the Griffon King was beyond imagining, and left questions as to the importance of that meeting.
He wondered why, after the meeting, he had received a missive in the old cipher not to assist any griffons outside the norm. Now, with what Orion had told him about the state of Griffonia, this was likely to put pressure on Bloodbeak to yield to imperial desire.
However, the smith believed he had learned that the command was likely worthless at this point, considering what the colt had done.
Orion Falls had gone and helped the Griffonians with not only their farming techniques but also returned a lost skill to them that could only have been barred by the Princess in every measure. Though, that was just a rumor.
“I had thought I'd been clever in not explaining how tah make steel.” Apparently, it either wasn't enough, or the pony had figured it out early on and was using him to double-check his knowledge. In either case, Orion had effectively ruined Minos out of a potential alliance before the Emperor's plans could be put into motion.
Forager was at a loss for what to do. This was exactly what he was supposed to report on, and by all accounts and duties, he must.
Sighing, he stood and did the first thing that came to mind. Reaching over, he grabbed the pony across the table from him and punched him square in his jaw.
Orion flew out of his grip and crashed into the bare kitchen wall behind him.
Duula rushed in from the storefront, eyes wide. She looked between her father and the pony, now staring shocked at him.
“Duula, be a good calf and return tah managing the store. This don't concern you.” He growled. With a panicked jump, she fled. She knew better than to question him during times like this, but the events had always been so rare that he worried she would have forgotten.
She never did.
Rather than shout, Orion rubbed his jaw, eyes going from dumbfounded worry, to anger.
“What the fuck was that for, Asshole?” His voice was pitched low and dangerous, and Forager was suddenly reminded of the last time he struck the pony.
Shaking his head, he pushed on.
“I caen't believe ya’ve done this.” He calmly replied.
“What, you wanna see the scar too?” The colt snapped back.
“Nae. I don't need to see the bleedin’ scar. I don't doubt what ya did, I question yer sanity in doin’ it!”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Leave it the fuck alone, you idiot!” The Bulls' fists came down onto his table like a hammer on metal. The wooden furniture groaned warningly. “Ye couldn't just go ‘n enjoy yer vacation?”
“I went there, partly to make an improvement in their lives.” Orion pushed himself up to his hooves but didn't take a step forward. Certainly, he was a lot more put together than he had been when they had first met. “That was me enjoying my vacation.”
“And ya couldn't leave steel out of it?!” The smith snapped back.
Orion paused, considering his words, then looked away.
“After what I saw, and read, mostly from their own records, so that may be their bias leaking in, I…fuck man, I couldn't just sit there and let it go, their kids were starvin’! Was a good idea at the time, and I didn't think an asshole griffon and a bunch of fucking unicorns would come crash the party.”
“A good idea…? At the time?” His frown deepened. “And now?”
“Heh, still would have done it.” The cocky grin, undeterred by the swelling of his lip, returned in full force. “They had a right to their talents. I'm more than certain it had been taken from them, and ya can't convince me otherwise.”
“Likely so, aye. Yet, why you? Couldn't ya have left a note? ‘nd idea on how tah do everything?”
“Uh-huh.” Orion deadpanned. “And who would have read and, more importantly, considered it credible? Fuck man,” he cursed again, “they had to be shown the way!” Leaning over, he picked up his chair and righted it. Sitting down, he gestured to the big minotaur. “Ya gonna sit there and loom over me, or are we going to talk like civilized folks, and you can explain to me why you are suddenly so panicked.”
Forager’s eyes widened in surprise, and he numbly picked up his own seat that had been knocked over in his attempt to smack some intelligence into the fool foal.
“What makes ya think I'm panicky?” He asked once he had composed and settled himself into his seat.
“You have a track record of hitting me whenever you get worried over something you know that I don't.” He chuckled, a finger touching his lip, and he winced, his horn coming to life, and the swelling began to decrease.
“That was only one other time!”
“Uh huh, and the fact that you haven't denied it means that, in this case of correlation does, in fact, equal causation.” He tapped the table. “You know what I've done. Now, why are you so worried.”
Forager knew he should lie or outright deny him any information at all. However, if he did either, the colt was liable to see through it and shut him out of any further meetings, and he absolutely must maintain contact with the fool pony.
With a heavy sigh, he dropped his gaze to the table. “Now, why do I feel like the apprentice that broke the anvil?”
“I'm…not just a Smith, Orion.” He began. “My career here, my family's career here, wasn't a choice.”
“Ah, crap.” The colt groaned. “You're some kind of half-assed spy. Aren't you?”
“No half-assin’ about it, colt!” He snapped at him. “Though, I would say I'm more of a listenin’ post than an actual spy. I report once a year on everything I see and hear.”
Orion groaned, looking both irritated and worried at the same time. “I doubt you can tell me, but you're not likely the only one in the nation. Hell, in the city itself, are you.”
“Nae. I'm not.” He affirmed.
“So…what, you holding onto the Gate so long was a way to filter out actual artificers?”
“Kind of?” He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. “I think Celestia knows what I am, or at least, knew what my family's real job was. When she brought that infernal contraption to my grandsire, I think it was her way of marking us out and letting us know we was on notice.”
The pony laughed. “Yeah, that would be right up her alley.” Shaking his head, his expression turned serious. “Judging by how pissed you were, I assume you haven't told HQ or whatever about me, did you?”
Forager winced. “Way tah hit the nail with a sledge, colt.” He shook his head. “No, they don't. They git the same line that Celestia’s big white rump got. A mysterious stranger who didn't reveal who they were came and fixed the Gate, took their money, and left.”
“Dude,” he whispered, “you are doubly fucked.” Orion raised his hands to forestall any outburst on his side. “I am too, don't get me wrong. But you…damn.” He shook his head. “What would have happened if you'd have reported me?”
Again, the big Bull shrugged. “Donno. Specifics are beyond me, but I suspect you would have been…removed, one way or the other.”
“Sounds about right. Griffons got the same idea. Only they come right out and say they would kill anyone capable of what I can do. Kinda fucked, honestly, but I appreciate the forwardness of it all.”
Forager's eyes widened. “They know what ye are?!”
“I don’t…hmm.” Orion paused, shook his head, and chuckled darkly. “You know what, now that I think about it. They just might. I got a pair of them following me around now, though I've long given them the slip today. So they’re lost as far as where I went to.”
“W-why?”
“Keep an eye on me, it would seem. Whatever method of execution they have for me might have been rescinded for now.” The colt shrugged. “Their disguises are hilarious. And I've thought of winking at them just to let ‘em know I'm aware of them.”
“I think they've gotten the message if you lose them as much as ya claim.” Massive fingers came up to rub the bridge of his wide nose. “So, the birds know, I know, and no one else is aware. Yes?”
“Well, whoever sent that army of jackoffs likely knew or knows something.”
“Feck.” He drew out the word. “Likely the Church, they've been operatin’ in Griffon lands for generations.” He shook his head. “Mintelligencer likely knows more than me, but it's agreed that they are causing nothing but chaos up there.”
“Huh, Mintelligencers?”
“It's the Ministry of Intel back in Minos.” Orion just stared at him and then burst out laughing.
“Hahaha!” He guffawed. “Are you serious?! Y'all took M and put it on the front of Intelligencer?” He laughed uproariously.
“Aye, not a very good name, I know, but the Emperor came up with it years ago, and it stuck.”
“Heh, that's stupid, but whatever.” Leaning forward and trying to wipe the smile from his face, he regarded Forager seriously. “So, what now?”
“Well, fer one thing, I know ye didn't come here just tah tell me the shenanigans ya've gotten up to. What do ya want?”
It was Orion's turn to wince.
“I…shit, I'm…I'm running out of everything, boss. I was hoping to recreate our arrangement. Work for materials. Steel ain't much of a problem. It's the gems and gold I'm running out of the most.” He shrugged. “Was hoping you'd be interested.”
The smith rubbed at his jaw and considered. The pony's work had always been a bit more than passable. Most Canterlonians couldn't tell the difference between his work and the colt's. Those that could got the explanation that he was trying something new. No one batted an eye otherwise.
“It would make my workload a bit lighter, and more time tah find an actual…” His eyes widened, and he stared openly at Orion.
“Colt, ya say you've recently been adopted, yes?” He asked carefully.
“Yeah. Fucking Sunbitch wouldn't let me out of the castle if I didn't get tossed with someone.” He shrugged. “Shipwrights are alright. Just don't like me out after dark without a reason and all that.”
“Heh, not violating their rules?”
“Actually, for the most part, no.” He lamented. “But it's not for lack of trying. I live on the first plate now. And let me tell you, their sewer system up there is not only cleaner than ours, but guarded to high heaven. I can only get to my little workshop on the weekends. Really makes it hard to do any personal projects.” He frowned. “Not to mention the three fillies living there. They are far too fuckin' nosey. Took me three weeks just waiting for them to stop trying to peek in on me at night before I could find a way out of the house.” He snapped. “Not to mention their parents. Fuck me, a bunch of busybodies. Well-meaning, but damn if they don't question everything I do. And don't get me started on the servants.”
“Explains why ye waited so long tah come see me.” His palm lay on the table, fingers drumming away. “I may have a solution, though.” Orion's ears perked up. “Ya come work fer me.” He grinned at the pony's stunned expression.
“I told you I don't want to be your fuckin' apprentice. Why this shit aga-”
“Because it solves yers and mines problems.”
The black pony gave him a dubious look and pushed the tangled mess of his fiery mane off to the side.
“Explain.”
Sparks flew as Orion angrily beat at the glowing red ingot of steel, the scale flying off with each strike. His arms hurt, his hooves hurt, hell, even his back felt like it was going to give out as he hunched over to shove the lump of what would be yet another workman's knife back into the coals.
The billows, the only item the bastard Forager would allow him to work with his magic, pumped feverishly to push the full red of the metal up to the bright glow of the sun once more.
“How…in the hell,” he huffed sucking in lungfuls of air, “had that asshole talked me into this shit!” He vented, reaching into the fire with tongs to pry out the glowing hot steel once more.
“It's because you're desperate,” Duula said from her workbench across the forge. The pair were currently sharing the space as she worked on a set of ear cuffs from some rich upper-crust weirdo with a thing for hummingbirds, judging by the design he could see that was. “I'm not sure what it is that had you come back, but I suppose it was enough to land you into my father's tender mercies.” She giggled.
“Yeah, tender.” He smacked the metal again, causing sparks to fly. “Horseshit.” Orion spat.
The heifer simply giggled again and refocused on her own work.
This was the fifth knife he was forging, and for whatever odd reason, it was proving to be more difficult than the other four. For starters, there were more impurities in the ingot. Which was odd, because he had never seen the Bull with inferior metalwork in the time he had known him.
Even the scraps he had been given were of better quality than this.
The second issue was more biological. He was exhausted. His arms burned like they had been dropped into the coals and cooked for a while. His head was beginning to pound in time with his hammer strikes, and he was damn dry. His mouth felt like a desert.
He had to admit, though, that it was a solution he hadn't considered.
Work for the Old Bull, and not only did he get out of the mansion more than three times a week, but he could get to his workshop and study his real subject on a near-daily basis.
The real surprise had come from the Shipwrights themselves.
He had thought he would have to argue with Emerald Bowspirit at the very least, but instead, the whole family had been more than enthusiastic, especially after the brief meeting between them and Forager himself. Their learning that the colt had been visiting his shop off and on for years had actually assuaged their worries of stranger danger and all that.
“You know what holds a ship together, Orion?” Clipper had asked after the meeting was over, and the colt was questioning their agreeable attitude on the whole thing.
“Family?” He had sarcastically asked. That brought a chuckle from the older stallion.
“No.” He shook his head, a chuckle floating from his lips. “It's a foundation of steel and well-fitted wood. You learning this trade will help you understand the stresses metal undergoes when subjected to the whims of the sky.” Standing from the lounge sofa, he took a stance at the bay window, his back to the black pony in the lone chair that sat in a slightly less than gaudy room. “Not…directly, mind you. Bu,t like the foundation of a keel being laid, you can understand the foundation of metal and how it can be best forged. Honestly, this is a better result than I could have asked for.”He turned and gave Orion a grin. “And Master Broadhammer really seems to like you.”
“He's going to love torturing me, you mean.” He groused at the older pony, which got the stallion to shrug in acquiescence.
“Perhaps.” Clipper smiled warmly. “Though, and this is my own personal opinion, he is likely to treat you with the same level of hazing as I had received when I was Journyponing for my own position. Why, I remember-”
The rest of it was just him remarking on the pranks and lessons he had learned from those above him over the years as he grew in his talent, which had been line-making and rigging.
Hard teachings that taught him to beware of even the simplest of obstacles.
His hand rose, haft in hand and hammer raised high, and he paused.
Staring at the knife, he frowned.
“He wouldn't have, would he?” His frown turned into a glare as his eyes drifted over the heated lump of metal, noting the spots that seemed duller and darker than the rest.
“Forager,” he hissed, “you asshole!” Arm swinging back with the tongs, he threw the offending piece of steel back into the forge.
“That's “Master” tah you, Colt,” Forager said, coming into the workplace, his bulky size making the shops' already limited space even smaller.
“Uh huh, fuck you. Why in the hell did you give me a shitty ingot!?” He spat back.
“Ah, ya figured it out. ‘ere I was thinkin’ ya’d beat that rubbish all day!” He chuckled. “It was tah see if ya was payin’ attention to the metal. Tah learn what was good and bad.” He shook his head, a smirk gracing his face. “Proud of ya, though, most apprentices I know, take a week tah figure it out.” His smile turned into a grin. “And ya did it without relyin’ on no silly ‘corn magic.”
“I'm gonna beat you.” Orion hefted his hammer. “I'm gonna beat you to death, ya fuckin-”
A small hammer whizzed through the air and pelted him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck was that for!?” He turned and glared at Duula, who now stood at her bench glaring back at him.
“My father is teaching you a valuable lesson, and you would threaten him?” Unlike Forager, who had a mix of Scottish and Southern drawl on his tongue, Duula Broadhammer was Canterlonian all the way. Making her tone somehow even more severe. “You will show your Master respect. It is not the student to question methods; only take the lessons those methods impart.” She hefted another hammer, one far larger than his own, with pitiful ease.
“But…” His glance took in both. The father, who stood by, his arms crossed, waiting, and the daughter, who stood poised to rush him with her own implement of destruction. “...fine.” He placed the sledge back on its pegs. She was right, and he was falling back into his old habits of being a jackass. “Fine. Just…fuck man, ya couldn't have given me a heads up at the least?”
“Lessons like that,” the bull gestured at the lump in the forge, “caen no be taught so simply. Trust me, Colt. Most don't remember the problem well enough if they simply be handed the solution.” He chuckled. “Though I have tah say, as I had said before, you're quicker than most.”
“Well, shit.” Rubbing at his sore bicep, he groaned. “Wasted all that energy on the useless thing. Now I need another.”
“No, ye don't.” Forager grinned. “I only needed four. I slipped the fifth in there as the lesson.” He shrugged. “Ya got lucky. Most either pick one like that up at the beginning, or in the middle. Caen waste a whole afternoon beating against shité and gettin’ naught but sore arms for it.”
“You ass.” Orion chuckled.
“That's “Master” to you, Colt.” He gestured at the set of four blades laid out on cloth. “They done?”
“For the most part. They still need to be worked over on the honing stones. They have a rough edge but are otherwise complete.” He shrugged. “And, of course, hafts have to be cut and shaped to fit the tangs for handles.”
Walking over, the master smith hefted one of the blades, scrutinizing the surface.
“Not bad. I see your vacation and studies haven't dulled your abilities too much; these’ll do.” He nodded. “Though I have to admit, I had believed since you used magic tah forge your own items, ya might not have been up tah standards physically. Glad I was wrong on that.”
“Not everything I worked on was with magic.” Orion snorted.
“Very good,” Forager replied simply. “It's Sunday. You git the rest of the day to recuperate. I caen sharpen these up. School and whatnot tah attend tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, Christ.” He moaned, taking off the heavy leather apron and placing it on a peg near the door. “It's physicals tomorrow. They do it every year, but this year,” he shuddered as he grabbed his cloak, “it's supposed to be a bit more invasive.”
“Ah, yewl get through it alright.” The smith chuckled. “Just remember to turn yer head and cough.”
“Oh, ah, ha. Funny.” Orion deadpanned. “See you in the afternoon tomorrow.” He paused at the door. “The hell you looking at,” he glanced at Duula, still giving him the stink eye and hefting her hammer meaningfully. He had forgotten again. “Uh, Master Broadhammer.”
He felt dirty.
Forager grinned but did not comment on the lapse. “We gonna be makin’ a fence together, protegé. The gate of one, at least. After that, ye caen do what ya want.”
The black colt thought for a minute. “Now that my reserves of gems have been restocked, perhaps it would be a good idea to return to the matter of R&R not working together properly.”
“Yeah, that'll work. I got some personal projects to work on that need a bit of trial and error.” He frowned. “Oh, and never again. Too weird. Duula, just kill me next time. I ain't calling no one nothing. Screw that!” He about-faced and marched out.
Duula snorted derisively and tossed her maul expertly onto its pegs.
“That colt is never going to change.”
“I wouldn't say that, my little hammer,” Forager said with a soft smile and a gentle pat on her shoulder. “Truth is, he has gone through a great transformation since the last time we've met.” Leaving her, he picked up one of the blades the pony had made. “For one, this is a lot better than some rank amateur smith with their first shop.” He handed it over to his daughter and watched her inspect the dull blade.
“I…if he had sharpened this…” She began.
“He could have submitted it tah me for his intermediate advancement and clear it.” The old Bull chuckled. “He has a steady hand. He nary made a mistake in his rhythm.”
“Has he…done this kind of work before, father?” Duula handed the blade back to him, and he walked over to the grinding wheel.
“Not that I'm aware, no. Though, he has spoken of private projects. Those didn't have someone to advise him. But, I think he might have been watching other smiths for a long time.” Sitting down, he placed his hooves onto the pedals. “His questions back then were a bit too accurate, and I was naive in thinkin’ he was just well-read.”
As he worked the grinding wheel, a comfortable silence filled the shop. Yet it did not last long, as his offspring broke it.
“Father, I'm not stupid, you understand, yes?”
Forager paused, giving his daughter a questioning glance.
“Father, I do the budgeting for the shop.” She deadpanned at him, and he chuckled.
“Aye, ye do.” Sighing, he rested his arms on the wheel. “I've worked out a deal with that pony. He needs those…materials, for his own research. And they don’t count fer much in the shop's overall budget.” She snorted at that. The cost was actually negligible; most of what he gave the pony was the leavings, and he was satisfied with that.
“Well, it's certainly not jewelry.” She replied thoughtfully, sitting back at her own station and snatching up the small hammer. She paused. “It's not something that'll get us in trouble, will it?” Duula glanced back up to her father.
“Nay. Not that I caen tell.” He shrugged uncomfortably under his daughter's gaze. “True. He does find trouble like a Brass hits his thumb, but I think we'll get fair warning before his next disaster.”
“I hope you're right, father.” Almost as one, they set to finishing their tasks. Though, Forager ruminated on his last comment.
“Perhaps we should make a trip home sooner rather than later.”
Author's Note
Wooo! Managed to get this update in!
Got some announcements to make. One really.
I am going in for retraining under a program my local government is providing. Its for Truck driving. I'm getting a CDL. Bad news is I am most likely going to be over the road trucking for the next couple of years. Pulling me away from my wife for all but maybe once or twice a month. That blows.
The good news for you, is I won't have video games as a distraction, so writing will be my only outlet. I won't have much for distraction anyway. So odds are I might actually get through most of my story, couple of books at least, in that amount of time. Huzzah as the blueberry honse would say.
I just wanted to keep you aware of what's going on, and what may account for delays in posting, as I am finally hitting the ground running on this.
As forever, and always, thank you for reading.
Peace.
P.S. I am absolutely livid that the Chiefs are going to the Superbowl. They do not deserve it, and Taylor Swift is mid af. Come fight me!
The haft of the hammer Orion had been using had worn new sores into his palm. He knew that because they reminded him of their presence as he gingerly shifted his satchel from one hand to the other. His elbow hurt. Again.
He had pretty much been running a small healing spell since he had arrived at school with little success in doing much more than easing his pains. Taking the bag off his shoulder had been a calculated choice to avoid having it knocked off by the press of people trying to enter through the main entrance. Now, he was quickly learning his half-assed calculations were not enough, and the joints in his arms, the sores on his palms, and the ache in his spine were proof of that.
The black colt never felt so sore in his life. Well, that wasn’t true, as he had managed to survive getting chased through a burning village, magically drained to the point of stupidity, and the idea of nearly being decapitated was probably an even worse kind of agony. Still, the forge work was a definite close second in terms of suckitude for him.
It did not help that today was Monday, and it felt like every pony the school had ever educated ever was there. Jostling him about like bumper cars as he slowly made his way down the halls. Shouting over one another in the packed school halls as they excitedly babbled about the weekend or some such nonsense. He didn’t know. He didn’t care; he only wanted them to get out of his way.
His ears laid flat more often than not as he avoided the most obnoxious groups traveling in packs that nearly took up the whole space. Giving them dirty looks that they ignored in favor of whatever inane topic they were discussing.
Though, he could not help but catch small snippets of conversation about the upcoming examinations. Orion did wonder what was so exciting about all that. Shooting glances at one another and giggling madly. Those few he managed to bypass were eyeing him in a manner that left him uncomfortable. Mostly the fillies.
It would seem that wouldn’t be going away anytime, after all.
“Christ, it's been weeks. My adoption should've been old news by now.” He lamented as he slammed his locker shut.
It had not once stopped. It did taper off somewhat, and he had hoped for complete anonymity once more in the future. But at this moment, it felt like day one again. The problem was that his new elevated station had brought renewed interest in him. He was now considered a minor noble, and in a school populated by the upper middle class and higher, he was considered a prime investment.
The letters had been the worst, either slipped into his locker or, worse, delivered by courier to the very home he now resided in. The most tame ones were flowery and spoke of getting together for tea some afternoon in the future. A private affair, of course, in which he would no doubt be badgered into revealing his interests and trying to charm their way into his heart, or pants. Whatever got them closer to their goal. Thankfully, he had been able to easily ignore those, though one courier had been hoping for a personal missive back.
She was sadly disappointed.
Yet, those did not bother him even half as much as the more salacious pages he had been subjected to reading. One he opened, as Emerald had insisted because she was so excited for him, even had an aroma that left little to the imagination as to what it was. He didn’t even get to read the letter out loud, which was something he now looked forward to as her face fell when the scent smacked her and the rest in their nostrils.
The girls giggled, including Free, who doubled over and looked like she was about to pass out. Clipper just groaned and shook his head good-naturedly. However, Emerald Bowspirit blanched, snatched the page from his fingers and hurled it into the hearth. Her horn came to light, and the page erupted into flames.
From then on, she did not insist on him reading every new letter he received to the family. So, there was a bright side to that embarrassment. Though, he should have expected something dirty, considering the source of the mail. It had not been Lazy Rain's first letter, though it might be her last, judging how the green motherly mare had scowled at the envelope. The filly hadn’t talked to him much after the first few months of their encounter last year. But he had seen her everywhere in the halls of the school. Or the cafeteria. Always watching him.
It had become so normal that he didn’t even care at this point. It's not like she approached him; other than staring and sending very dirty letters, the filly was too gunshy to come near. But he had already decided to keep an eye on the girl, if for no other reason than not wanting to get stabbed eventually. Crazy was going to be crazy.
Turning from his assigned locker, he made his way toward the east wing. His first class, Biology, was starting in half an hour, and he wanted to secure a seat in the back so it didn't feel like he had eyes burning into the back of his skull during class.
A familiar purple-stripped mane caught his eye as he turned a corner, and he about-faced to take a different route.
While she had most certainly stopped glaring at him in the halls when they passed by, he didn't want to look at her either. Since their little tif in the school library, Twilight Sparkle had been as cold as a blizzard to him. The mare had taken on an almost snooty air whenever they appeared in the same hall, street, or building.
He supposed smacking her in the face with the knowledge that he was only looked after so well by her mentor was because of her and nothing more had likely been too much for her to accept.
For Twilight, the idea that her Princess only kept an eye on Orion was because the mare didn't want to deal with the fallout of a sad, whiny filly had to be nothing more than baseless slander.
This, of course, was all made worse by the school rumor mill. It's why he avoided her these days. Everything from a lover’s quarrel to the Princess forbidding their secret relationship had exploded across the campus, and he couldn't escape the pointed questions fast enough.
Speaking of white Satan, he had received no summons or letter from the monarch in the castle. Which he was hoping was a good thing, but odds were Celestia either just didn’t know yet or she was at a loss on how to deal with the situation. She likely would figure something out, and when she did, he could expect something not to his benefit to come rolling down the steep hill of Shit Mountain.
Yet, while his friend treated him like one of the paintings in the halls, the other girls were now watching him like vultures. The year was only going to drag on from here.
Turning left, he found himself now stalking down the hall, a sneer of annoyance on his face. Students who passed by suddenly picked up the pace, avoiding his eyes as he glared at each passing one.
“Yeah, that's right. Keep your eyes to yourselves, assholes.”
After practically ripping open the door, he froze. Twilight was standing at the teacher's desk, placing a stack of papers down on the surface and adjusting them minutely to perfection. He glanced back out the door, frowning in confusion.
“Okay, how in the absolute hell did she get here before me?! Why the fuck is she even here to begin with?!” He blinked and realized the mane he had seen was striped with a teal color instead of the filly’s signature two-tone highlights. “God damnit. I got unintentionally duped.”
His newly rebuilt Radar picked up someone swiftly approaching the door, and with a sigh, he got out of the way and skirted the wall to the seats in the back. His eyes constantly drifted to her as he navigated the chairs stuck far too close together.
As he took a seat, he could see other students wearing puzzled looks of their own. Apparently, whatever was going on, this was something new to everybody. Twilight seemed to be working at ignoring their stares as hard as she ignored him.
“Again, what the hell is she even doing in school at all? She'd graduated a year early, didn’t she?” Another thought occurred to him. “ If she’s graduated, why was she sitting with me in the cafeteria three weeks ago? Shouldn’t she be under Celestia’s personal tutelage by now?”
The answer came in the form of Miss Dense Foliage, their biology teacher for the year.
She marched in, a permanent scowl already darkening her face as her eyes landed on the purple filly. She nearly sneered, and Twilight Sparkle, who nervously stood there under her scrutiny, wilted under the gaze.
“I see it's my turn to be “observed” by you.” The older mare groused.
“I-i am only supposed to be a teacher's aid, Miss Foliage.” His friend replied nervously.
“I know what you're supposed to be.” The biology teacher grumbled. “But I've heard about your little “habit”. I won't be tolerating that here-
“But-”
“-understand me? I'll not have you embarrassing me in my own classroom.” She huffed.
Dense Foliage was never one Orion would have called pleasant. In fact, he might refer to her as a bitch in impolite company. But this went beyond being downright rude, even if he could appreciate the flippancy with which she treated his friend's status. The mare had been born with a block on her shoulder rather than a chip, and her harsh critique of his and his fellow student's answer sheets had always left him with the feeling she was bitter at her life being stuck, as it were, as a teacher.
“Yes, ma'am,” Twilight said quietly.
Miss Foliage eyed her shrewdly, then nodded.
“Good.” She satisfactorily replied. “My notes?”
“On the desk, Miss Foliage.”
“Very good. Now, stand over there till I need you.” She gestured off into a corner of the room dismissively.
He shouldn't be mad. Not even irritated, but seeing her treated in such a way left an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Despite their rocky relationship and current status, he felt defensive of the now thoroughly chastised purple pony.
A nasty little idea came to mind, one that he had to fight to push away from the forefront of his thoughts. He would not misbehave. Not now. He had promised to try and be better.
Events with the Shipwrights, Forager, and even Mrs. Evergarden had left him with the distinct impression that if he were to overcome his more direct nature, he would have to shut it all down for the sake of himself and those around him.
Huffing, he put quill to paper and began writing down notes as Dense Foliage started her instruction, ignoring Twilight's downtrodden face as best he could.
Like generations of students who had come before, Orion and the entire student body of colts stood just outside the gymnasium. Sheets of white had been strung up over the windows, blocking any kind of view from inside the converted gym. Two guardsmares flanked the entrance, and they all stood in a line to the left, avoiding the odd hoof traffic that came through.
While the others excitedly gabbed at one another, he stood aloof, bored to tears by the slow progress of one to three students being pulled in at a time to be stripped, measured, weighed, and whatever else the examiners wanted to drag them through. He simply shuffled along like the rest when one came out, and the other was pulled in.
Presumably, the fillies were also going through this. However, they likely had more space available on their side as there were way more of them than the males on his side.
That made sense to him, but the slow pace at which they were seen was annoying, though he had to admit to himself that he could just be dramatic. It was, after all, necessary. The only good to come out of it was that afternoon classes had been canceled, and a free hour was set up to do whatever they wanted. He planned to bury himself in the school library again.
Which he was going to take full advantage of today.
His previous class, the Study of Magic, was essentially just a historical line of Equestrian mages' discoveries of differing branches of magic and their perceived purpose. But it had given him interesting subjects to pursue.
One of the recent chapters they had discussed was Dark Magic, and he was interested to see what he could learn of it.
Sadly, the regular classes were largely normal, even routine, at this point. Most of what they knew he had already learned long ago. Periods in history held their charms, but the simplistic way Equestrian History was presented was almost infantile at best. Math and Equish were not much better, and for whatever reason, he was still stuck with Homemaking. He had been trying in vain to replace that with Self-defense class with little success.
That left Magic Theory and Application as his only outlet and interest, which he wholeheartedly enjoyed.
Yet, his theories and application classes had given him an itch that he had to satisfy, and the resources in the library would likely help scratch that itch. It wasn’t like he could go to the castle. He had shut the door on that avenue with his row with Twilight. But she had helped him immensely during their time together.
Orion had long since gotten a handle on what he affectionately called “Math-magic”, though they referred to it as the “Formulaic Input Commands” spell structure. Or FIC for short.
It was a bit strange, but the way he understood it was that it was basically putting in physics as a code. First, the values already present were broken down into algorithms used to establish what was in the environment itself. What you planned to do depended on what parameters were being set. If you wanted to create a fireball, temperature, and windspeed would be factors to measure and use. The issue was that you needed separate line codes to account for those details.
Fortunately, ponies had long since figured out how to cheat. The first structure, considered a pre-spell by many, automatically scanned the environment for you and imputed those values. It was a quick and easy method that saved time and mana in using. The pony, Starswirl the Bearded, had discovered and invented the technique way back when. Orion was beginning to see why Twilight had a crush on the ancient pony. The guy was brilliant.
The second part, or third, fourth, fifth, and so on, depends on what you were planning to do. In the case of the fireball, it was really a two-step process. Pre-spell scan, create the method of ignition, in this case, a spark and fuel in the form of pure mana, and hurl it by either physical means or a third line for air propulsion.
Despite his natural ability to mimic what he saw, understanding the steps and the processes was way more complicated than he had realized. That purple filly had filled in an awful lot of the blanks for him over the years. Yet, there was still a lot to learn.
The more advanced classes he was taking now still began with the basic formula. However, depending on what was done with it, another layer had to be added; that was the so on and so forth. According to every teacher, the maximum number of layers a spell could have was seven, but there were a myriad of ways to manipulate each layer. Meaning a whole lot of different outcomes could happen. Fireball had one layer.
Say you wanted to summon something with capesso instead. First, account for the change in location for mass, meaning swapping air for a more solid object like the book he had taken from Backwater those many years ago. The next layer would involve negotiating with the ley lines by adjusting for the transfer. While one could not see the transmission in higher planes of existence, one still had to account for mass being squeezed through. Thus, a third layer was added to negate mass for the time being. As long as space was achieved neutrally at the end of the spell, things went off without a hitch. There seemed to be some truth to the old adage that reality hated inconsistency.
He had quickly figured this out when he was much younger, but it was by sheer happenstance and only vaguely at that. This gave him an unfair advantage over the other more naturally gifted and powerful students, but his ignorance also put him behind in more advanced spells, which was why he struggled so much in the beginning. His previous understanding of science and math from his world did help immensely, but ultimately the purple pony of books saved his ass.
The other reason he was so interested was that despite the study and practice of Dark Magic, it was heavily frowned upon as an evil thing despite it not being anything of the sort.
There were even those in the Tower who were currently researching and experimenting with the craft in one form or another. However, most mages and casters were largely locked out of learning it for the degree of difficulty involved in controlling it.
His hope was that there might be a dusty collection of archaic books left forgotten in some corner of the school library that he could pilfer and learn from. However, getting to them would be a challenge if they were actually somewhere in the vast repository, which would likely be in the restricted section. It's not an ideal place for him to get to. But he figured if he was smart about it, he might be able to change folk’s perception of the little-known craft. After all, despite its source, magic was still only a tool. Or at least that was as far as he cared to believe.
“Ladies. Ladies! I am betrothed already, and neither I nor my future brides are interested in adding to our herd at this time!” A somewhat whiny, yet familiar, voice said.
“Hey, I know that-”
Rushing out of the examination room, a white colt, his face flushed pink, golden blond wavy mane loosely flapping about, and with an unnatural gait, he tried to run with, was currently trying not to fall as he pulled up his pants. A cutie mark in the shape of a nautical star of gold and blue was slowly being covered up on his hip. He spun and scowled primly at the nurses' aids, who had stopped at the door, giving him pouting looks.
“I do appreciate the interest, yet that, as they say, is that.” His head tilted upward as he tucked in his school-issued shirt, but as he did so, his eyes swept over the remaining colts waiting their turn in what Orion was beginning to think was more than likely now a groping room.
They slammed to a halt when they landed on him. The white colt's eyes bulged alarmingly, and the head came down immediately.
“Or-or-or-”
“Hey, Golden.” The black colt interrupted with a smile, raising his hands slowly to try and show the panicked pony prince that he was not going to be a threat at that time. “Nice to see you back on your hooves. Been a while, huh?”
The reminder of their last encounter turned the pony's face from pink to crimson. The human-turned-pony wasn't sure if that was anger or just even more embarrassment. Either way, he didn't need another thing to deal with. He stepped forward quickly and lowered his voice.
“Relax, dude. I ain't interested in opening up that can of worms again. You stick to your lane, and I'll roughly stay in mine.”
“W-what?” Golden Trot said, flabbergasted. “Why?” He muttered out, then shook his head and glared at Orion. “And it's Prince-to-be, Blueblood the forty-eighth!”
“Oh, he grew a new pair of testicles in his time away! How fun.” His first instinct was to belittle the jumped-up white turd once more. An even deeper desire welled briefly in the form of wanting to snap his legs again.
Yet, Orion pushed that down.
“What is fairly simple. I don't want to deal with you. I am sure you don’t want to tangle with me again, either. And the reason I might drift into your proverbial lane is in case you start to act like an ass to the other students.” He gave him a nasty smile. “Your status does not give you leave to be a prick just because of who your daddy is.” He glared back at the new Blueblood in the making, causing the white colt to lose his anger and try to avoid his eyes. “If anything, you should be the better example. You are a Prince, “to-be” such as that is, and that means you have to be worthy of that title.” He shook his head, wondering where in the hell his mind was coming up with this crap.
“But, father says-”
“As far as I know, your pop ain't in the good graces of too many folk is he?” Rumors abound during his time when he was still allowed to wander the halls of the castle when visiting Twilight for a study session or two. Rumors that did not paint the forty-seventh Prince in too good a light, to say the least.
“Those are baseless slander!” Golden shot back.
“Really? Then how come he has to pay premiums on shipping whenever he orders something from one city or another?” He silently thanked the maids for being so loose of lips. “Or that many of the guards have to be paid extra just being assigned to watch over him?” Okay, perhaps he was not being as good as he should.
With a heavy sigh, he took another step toward the white colt, causing him to try and shrink back, only to discover he was now up against the wall.
“Listen, here is what I am asking of you.” He forced Golden to look at him. “Just be better than him. Really, that is all I ask.”
“B-be b-better?” The colt asked, uncertainty in his voice.
“Yep. Don't let your status or arrogance get in the way of being real with folks. If you don't like something, be tactful. If ya want something, ask with some humility or something.” With a snort, Orion realized he could take some of that advice. “Shit, I should be taking that to heart too.” He chuckled, taking a couple of short steps back.
His hand came up.
“Hi, Prince to-be Blueblood, my name is Orion. Orion Falls. Nice to meet you.”
A pin could be heard if one had dropped at that very moment.
Golden Trot stared at his hand and then his face in disbelief. His brain looked like it was about to explode.
“Listen, I'm trying to be good here,” Orion whispered, hissing past his teeth. “Really. All I ask is the same cordiality from you as I am willing to give. I ain't asking to be friends; just don't think our time should be spent getting back at one another.” He wiggled his hand in the air.
Slowly and with some trepidation, the white pony took his hand and shook it. His eyes still seemed bewildered.
“Congrats on the butt tattoo, by the way,” Orion smirked. “Care to tell me what it means?”
“Butt…tattoo?”
“Your mark, dude.”
“Oh. Oh!” Suddenly, his hand returned the shake in full force, excitement replacing his features.
“How easy it is to make a horse happy. He's like a puppy, heh.” Orion noted with dry amusement.
“It turns out I have a passion for sailing!” He sang, letting go only to clap happily in a very girly manner. “Not just any sailing! But sky sailing! I'm a superb navigator! And I seem to have a penchant for the stars as well, though we are not yet certain what that entails.”
“Huh, neat.” The black pony said thoughtfully, a grin forming. “Shit, you may end up flying one of my ships one day if things keep going the way they are now.”
“One of…yo-your…ships?”
“Oh, heh.” Orion wanted to smack himself. He was getting a bit too friendly with the overstuffed shithead, but at this point, he figured maybe giving him no reason to be scared or angry with him now was a better option. “Yeah, turns out I got adopted.” He turned and looked away briefly. “Much to my displeasure.”
“Oh, congratulations? I suppose?” Golden said, confused. “You were always…strange. Your tone says you didn't want this.” He cocked his head. “Why?”
“I'm…not gonna get into it. It's a whole thing.” The black pony waved his question away. “The important thing is my…guardians,” he stumbled over the word, “are out of Manehattan. They're shipbuilders by trade.”
“The Shipwrights.” Golden Trot nodded thoughtfully. “I see.” He paused, realization dawning on him. “I remember books about airships in your room!”
“Yeah, I've been…wait.” He fixed the white colt with a glare. “When the hell were you in my room? I never invited your ass in there.”
“I…uh.” The Prince to-be glanced around, and several colts who had been enthralled by their conversation turned quickly away, becoming very interested in the architectural structure of the hall.
He could put two and two together. That equalled pony snooping.
“Dude, not cool.” He groused, but after a moment, he let it go. It just didn't matter anymore. “Fuck, whatever.”
“I…apologize.” Orion had to do a double take. Not sure if he heard that right.
“What?”
Sheepish and with far more humility than he ever expected from the prim colt, Golden Trot gave a slight incline of his head and repeated his words.
“I apologize.” He shrugged. “I…was angry. Bitter about my situation in life. I was…going through-
“Hold up,” Orion interrupted, “what is with you, dude?” The black pony's mind reeled at the idea of this white and blond horse person being humble, let alone so nice, so fast after being informed Orion was willing to bury the hatchet. “It wasn't that long ago when we,” he coughed, “had our little spat. What in the hell happened to you?”
“Ah. Yes.” Golden nodded gravely. “I suppose your confusion is warranted.” He gave a half smile. “To be truthful, a lot of my mental clarity may have come from you, I would wager. Both the experience on the mezzanine and your…less-than-tactful riposte with the Princess. I-”
“Are you colts just going to stand around and gab all day?!” The shrill voice of Dense Foliage rang out behind the pair.
Closing his eyes, Orion tried to let go of the sudden rising anger brewing in his stomach.
“Apologies, Miss Foliage. Orion and I were simply catching up, and I fear we misplaced the time.” Golden said smoothly. “Orion, I believe we should finish this talk later.” He smiled kindly, nodded, and left without letting him get a word in edgewise.
“Okay…that's weird. I don't think I like it.” He had expected an altercation the moment he had been informed that the pony was back in town. Now, he was thoroughly confused and more than a bit suspicious. What had happened to him?
“Orion, are you just going to stand there, taking up space?” Dense said, glaring at him from the end of the line of colts.
Biting back a retort, he stood back in line, the others giving him plenty of space as he leaned against the wall and glowered at nothing.
“This fuckin' planet just gets weirder and weirder.”
“Alright, Mr. Falls!” Dr. Stethoscope said cheerily. “Everything appears normal. Now,” he gives a self-deprecating smile, “comes the unfortunate part. Would you please strip down for the physical inspection? I will make this as swift as possible.”
“Gonna have to turn my head and cough, Doc?” Orion chuckled as he removed his shirt, getting an odd look from the pony doctor.
“I am afraid you lost me there, Colt. What does that mean?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything.” The black pony chuckled to himself. His physician for the day was, of course, a unicorn, which meant the odds of him getting his balls cupped were very low. But not zero.
Placing his shirt on the bench, his vest had been shucked early. He bent toward the easy-to-remove iron shoes and noted with distaste that he already needed a trim as he placed them under the same bench.
Seeing as this was a full exam, Orion shed both pants and underwear in one swoop, unceremoniously dropping them with the rest of the discarded clothes.
Turning around, he noticed Dr. Stethoscope giving him an odd look. His first instinct was to cover up the rather visible scar across his sternum. That long, straight cut was quite noticeable, and any questions about it would only cause him problems. Then he realized his gaze was fixed below his waist.
“Um, Doc? Something wrong with my balls or something?” He inquired.
“Oh…uh no. Just…” He paused and shook his head. “Mr. Falls. Did you know you have yet to receive a cutiemark?”
Relief flooded through the black colt, and he almost sagged to the floor, the sudden adrenaline nearly making him shaky. He had legitimately thought there was something wrong with his bait and tackle for a moment there.
“Ah, yeah. No, I do not have one.” He shrugged. “Guess I'm not a favorite or whatever for fate or something.” He said good-naturedly.
With the confirmation that he was aware he didn't have one, the Doctor’s face changed into one of deep concern.
“Mr. Falls. I don't mean to alarm you, but a pony's life is closely tied to their Mark.” He began slowly. “It can, and often does, determine the course of one's path in society. You not having one by this time is very concerning. I have yet to meet a fifteen-year-old without their purpose personally.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “There are, of course, exceptions that I have heard of, but their lives…well, let us say they were not as fulfilling.”
“You mean they died.” Orion bluntly replied, getting a wince from the physician.
“Yes, not to be so direct about it. But yes, they passed on. They couldn't reconcile their lack of a Mark and eventually lost the will to live when they couldn't discover it after many years of trials and tribulations. Mr. Falls, you are in a very dangerous position for your health.”
He couldn't help but smirk at the saddened expression the doctor was sending his way. He almost laughed.
“Ah hah.” He stifled a chuckle. “Listen, Doc, I think you should know something. The difference between them and I is likely that I don't actually care about some silly Cutiemark.” He responded blithely. “If I get one, great. If I don't, also great cause I really don't care.” He waved the stallion's attempt to respond away. “And no, before you even say it. I'm not putting on a brave face. I really, truly, don't give a shit.” He gave him a thumbs up.
“I…I don't understand. Why does it not matter to you?”
He laughed, avoiding the cold bench and sitting on the faux leather of one of the doctor's chairs.
“Do griffons have one? Do dragons?” He ticked off each with a raised finger. “How about Diamond Dogs? Or the Hippogriffs! They pull direct descendency from us, after all. Yet their flanks, as far as I am aware, remain blank as the day they were born. Kinda strange how we are the only ones that get ‘em, right?”
Less worried and more confused, the doctor nodded along.
“This is true, and some of my more learned colleagues have wondered the reason for that. A great many research papers have gone into discovering the cause, but they have done little to advance their knowledge.” He sat down at the end of the bench, arms crossed.
“And, let's be honest, given my strange dietary needs and the mysterious nature of my birth, I'd say I'm likely not due one.” He shrugged. “Ever.”
“I did…read that in your file…” he mumbled, “Perhaps you are right.” Sucking in a breath and letting out a sigh, he stood. “In either case, I still will have to report this. You will likely receive a follow-up and an advisor to help you discover your place.”
“Aww, man! Seriously?!” Orion whined. Which Dr. Stethoscope just chuckled at.
“Yes, seriously. While you may actually be correct, what kind of Doctor would I be if I left it to chance on the word of a fifteen-year-old colt.” He clapped his hands together. “Enough of that. Let's get the rest of your exam finished.” He waved the black pony off the stool and kneeled down. “Now, turn your head and cough, if you would, Mr. Falls?”
“Oh, you're hilarious.” The colt's snarky reply came as he winced at the feel of another stallion's hands where they normally ought not to be. He was repeating that line.
It wasn't hard to spot the filly, as she was standing in the middle of his personal study, looming over his notes like a vulture.
Turquoise fur was matched with a sandy brown mane that practically screamed her name before one even took in her stature. Ocean Keel was what one might call a masculine filly. Everything about her said the pony was born for labor despite having a horn of her own, though said appendage might be considered small when anyone added her mass in.
She was somehow bigger than Applejack, but Orion suspected that the farm mare was still the stronger of the two, and it had nothing to do with their lineage. However, in terms of the type of labor each one partook in.
He often found his not-sister dressed in brown overalls and a blue button-up that seemed almost to choke her. That first day seeing her in a dress had left him with the impression she would rather be out of it, and he hadn’t been wrong.
“Any reason why you are in my study, going through my things like they belong to you?” He asked while simultaneously tossing his satchel on the hook by the door.
His study was part of a set of three chambers originally meant to be a long-term guest residence. It was simple and largely unremarkable. Dark wood paneling of some type of oak covered the walls, with pillars of green marble supporting the curved dome roof. Some bookcases that he had yet to fill stood to one side, while a workbench for his Crystalmancy had been set out to the other.
Plenty of room left for whatever decorations he may want to place, if ever.
At the very center, on the back wall, was a stained glass window facing the east, depicting a ship in turbulent waves. It was mesmerizing the first time he saw it. All greens, browns, and blues depicting a parade of colors that reflected onto his desk brilliantly.
However, the room they both stood in also acted as the entrance to the other two.
On the left from the entrance was the bathroom.
During the renovation after the Shipwrights purchase, the decision was made for a sea green tiling with wood accents to mark the corners and border that was waist level. The mirror was tall, oval, and gilded in silver rather than the traditional goldwork most might choose. Other than a tub with a shower head, a sink that stood under the previously mentioned mirror, and a toilet toward the rear of the washroom, it was rather sparsely furnished. Only a small wooden stool stood off to the side, of whose purpose Orion was still unsure of.
Of course, the room to the right of the entrance to his chambers was the bedroom, mirroring his office almost to a T. Yet it also served as his kitchen upon personal request. Due in large part to his diet, a stove with a brick fortification around it, a fridge, and a sink had been installed to accommodate his nature so he could eat meat without grossing the rest of the family out entirely.
A screen of wood and paper depicting, one would guess, a ship, this one a soaring vessel bursting through the clouds at what might have been the best speed imaginable for a lumbering aircraft.
On the other side were his bed, dresser, wardrobe, and a small wall shelf for personal reading. Instead of one large one, three regular arched windows faced east as well. However, they were often blocked by heavy curtains he had installed himself to keep the sunlight out.
“If we are playing that game, you can explain why you have been avoiding me and my sisters since you've arrived.” Pale green eyes met his angrily. “We hardly know you; our mothers and father will not explain to us why you avoid dinner or most social gatherings.”
Orion scoffed at her rebuttal and pushed her aside as he glanced over what she had looked into. With an inward sigh, he was relieved to see she had merely found his notes on airfoils. He had been trying to figure out how a plane might function and had so far produced a drawn image, a bastardized version of what he remembered as a Hellcat .
It was an ugly thing.
“How is this supposed to fly without an air bladder?” Unperturbed by his clear desire for her to leave, Ocean leaned over the table to jab at the design.
“Still working on it.” He growled.
His avoidance of the sisters was simple, if a bit hard to do in practice. The black pony didn't want to get caught up in their lives. Twilight's mentioning of Golden Trot’s engagement and subsequent name change had been all the warning he needed as far as he was concerned. He was not about to get hitched to the family in any shape or function. Nor be used as a tool to solidify ties.
“Fine. Research is important, but you better come with a full schematic if you plan to get Grandmother to agree to building it.” She snorted. “Again. Why are you avoiding us?”
“Christ, this girl isn't going to quit, is she?” He could ignore her. Hell, he could teleport the filly out of his room to a certain extent within his limited radius with no way for her to retaliate.
That was a funny thing to him. In a world of magic, most unicorns he had met barely had any training other than what was passed down by parents or school prep. This was actually also true for those in his own school. Sure, they knew more than the average horse about magic, but most lacked the strength and willpower needed to go as far as him and a few others.
Shaking his head, Orion pushed away from that tangent of thought and gave Ocean a baleful glare.
“I'm avoiding you because I don't want to actually be here.” He snorted at her surprised expression. “I figured your parents at least told you I strongly objected to this whole adoption nonsense, and the only reason I relented was that, unlike a certain fat-assed monarch, I don't have an eternity to sit there in a friggin' stalemate!” He snapped, turning away in frustration at losing his cool.
Silence descended over the pair as the black pony busied himself, putting his things away and straightening his desk. After a moment, he spoke again, though much calmer this time.
“I avoid you because I don't want you to get attached to me.” He watched her blink in surprise at him, “I don't want to be involved in your lives, as my time here is brief. I got three years, and while that's a long time to live through, it's a short time in hindsight.” Suddenly tired, he dropped into his seat and returned his eyes to a now very uncomfortable-looking Ocean Keel. “Not to sound like a cliché breakup line, but it's not you, it's me. I do not want to be here. I'd rather have stayed at the Orphanage if it had been possible.” He finished.
The filly, who merely stood two inches shorter than him, finally looked at him, a pained expression on her face.
“I…understand.” She shook her head. “Father said as much. That you felt your presence here was under duress rather than any desire to find a home. It is why you have been given such leeway to do as you please.” He snorted at that, and she gave a strained smile. “Perhaps marginally more than my sisters and I, at the very least.” She paused, chewing her lip. “But is it really so bad? To get to know us, I mean.”
“Honestly? No.” Orion gave his own pained smile. “What? It's the truth.” He shrugged at her stunned expression.
“Then why?”
“Because for as far as I can remember, all I ever wanted was to be able to be free.” He chuckled. “Being so… self-aware has allowed me to notice things at an early age. In particular, there is a disparaging gap in equality between stallions and mares. I'm talking about all of it, too. From societal to employment, all of it.” He coughed and went on. “Down in more rural areas, it's not quite so…blatant. Hell, most families seem to revolve around the stallion down there. Yet there are still things a stallion cannot be allowed to do, if nothing more than safety, as there is this weird ratio of male to female going on that no one can explain.”
“But father leads us!” Ocean interrupted when he took a breath.
“Yes, another anomaly. However,” he raised a finger, “the head of the Shipwrights is your Great Grandmother, Matron Solar Winds, right? And from what I have learned, your Aunt is next in line…what was her name?”
“Auntie Cloudy Venture.” She replied numbly.
“Ah, yeah, her. As far as I am aware, throughout the history of your family, never once has a stallion been considered for leadership outside familial duties like this branch into Canterlot. When the matron gives orders, everyone hops to do so without complaint. Not sure if that's due to superb leadership or, again, tradition making its demands.” He looked at the downcasted filly before him. “I am not for blindly following tradition.” Orion sighed heavily. “I'm sure your extensive family is great, but I am not someone that can be ordered around “Just cause I said so”.” He air quoted. “I want to make decisions for me, and not have them made for me.”
“I…” Ocean Keel tried to say something, her mouth opening and closing many times before a sigh of her own escaped her. “I understand.”
“Good.” He nodded, hoping to shoo her away now that they were done.
“But I don't agree with you.” She nodded, more towards herself than him. “I know what you really fear.”
“Oh, do tell?” He snarked at her. Now annoyed that she was digging in her hooves so suddenly.
“You are worried that Grandma Solar Winds will try to set you up with one of us. That it will be a demand.”
“That is a large component,” Orion admitted, surprised at her insight. He supposed she might not be as muscle-bound as she presented. “Of which I will refuse in the strongest manner possible.”
“And you are also worried that it will cause a riff in the family, knowing that father won't fight to make you, nor our mothers.”
“That is also true. Is that outside the norm for her to do?”
Her confidence in guesswork faltered, and her face reflected it.
“No. Its…it is common that the Matron uses family gatherings to…form bonds by way of marriage proposals.”
“If it takes the sting away from admitting that, your family is not the only one that does. Hell, even the Apples do it, though I hear the stallions get a bit more choice in who they get handed off to.”
Big illustrious families in Equestria tended to favor arranged marriages more often than not. Her admission that her own also participated in the practice was unsurprising.
This tradition harkened back to the turbulent years of pre-unification. Officially, it was to keep the family bonds strong without the risk of inbreeding. Unofficially, or at least it seemed to him, it was used to keep family lines from drifting away.
Competition could shatter success, and a number of families ripped themselves apart trying to dominate an industry. Having control of marriages and procreation prevented that to a large degree by creating a weird monopoly within the clan or tribe. No one competed with family, and selecting what role you and your kin would assume was under the purview of the Matron.
Orion was actually a prize in all of this. Having no family ties of blood to anyone within, he was essentially a one-time wildcard that could be employed by any branch that needed metaphorical shoring up without any risk. That is another reason why colts were often adopted so much quicker than fillies from the system.
“Wish I had known of this shit sooner.” He mentally lamented. Twilight had set him on the path of learning about all this when she informed him of what happened to Golden Trot. It hadn't been hard to uncover the truth after that.
He supposed that was what Clipper and his wives' real goal had been. Why need a tax break when you can bring in fresh blood for the next generation?
“She will not be happy with you,” Ocean spoke quietly. He snorted.
“I'd imagine not. When I found out about this little practice, I had pulled your dad aside and explained that it would just not be happening. Ever.” He waved a hand in the air, turning toward his desk. “But I think I've had enough of socializing today. Next time you visit, wait till I'm actually here. Otherwise, I'll toss you out on your ass.” He gave her a grin and a wink that made the filly flush with embarrassment.
Ocean Keel was not a bad person, all things considered. His main gripe with her is the bullheadedness she received from her mother, Free Beam. That mare could be very stubborn when she wanted to be. Because this wasn’t the first time he had a conversation like this, with either of them.
She turned and went. But Radar showed she had stopped at his door and turned back.
“My sisters are getting upset, though. Ember and Star are hounding their dam for a chance to speak to you.”
Orion suppressed a shudder. Compared to those two, Ocean was practically a saint. From what he could observe, neither pony would be ideal to have a conversation that did not end in: “go away”.
Ember Port was an apathetic filly who had chosen the role of a wallflower as far as he could tell. Never speaking much. Instead, she watched everything like a hawk, and her little ears would often twitch slightly when she was trying to listen in. That was a girl who liked to collect secrets.
The other, slightly younger by a mere two minutes, is Star Board. Where Ember is quiet, subdued, and ever watchful, Star is not. Brash to the point of irritable, the filly doesn't understand the word “no” with any particular reason. Her impulsivity and demands are, fortunately, largely ignored by her parents. Yet, from his vantage point of observing from the outside, both Ocean Keel and her older sister seem to go along with whatever inane whim she has.
Despite the usual hierarchy of a family, the youngest was in command of the adolescents here.
“Come to think of it, this would be exactly the kind of thing that little brat would do. Send the eldest out to test the waters, see how the new colt would respond to having his room trespassed into.”
“You mean Star is getting irritated.” He chuckled, watching the filly at his door jerk in surprise in his mind's eye. “I'm not blind, Ocean. Your youngest sister has you and Ember wrapped tightly around her finger. I'm beginning to think this little meeting wasn't your idea.” He turned in his chair and gave a flat stare. “Is it?”
Flushing, Ocean looked away.
“Tell her, the next time she wants to poke the bear, do it herself instead of being a wuss and sending you or another instead.” He went back to his desk and saw the mess that had been created. “I'll….try and swing by for dinner tonight. But for now, go on. Get out.” He said without heat, waving his hand dismissively.
Clipper did his best not to shift too much in the great white cushion he had been offered. His host had been curious, wanting to know how Orion had been settling in with his family.
The host in question sat before him on a larger and equally white sofa. Her magenta eyes drifted over the page before her with interest. What she was reading was no mystery, as he had written the letter himself. Hence, the reason she had called him in.
Smiling thoughtfully, she placed the missive down and turned those beautiful orbs onto him.
“I see Orion is settling in well.” Princess Celestia said, the thoughtful smile blossoming into a radiant beam.
Clipper Line couldn't help but flush. This mare who ruled the kingdom was beautiful. Beyond what he had imagined as a little colt when he had fantasized about one day being asked to marry her. An immortal beauty that would remain perfect throughout his life. A silly foalhood fantasy.
Having her attention on him directly, unlike his previous visits, had reawakened those fantasies that set his belly bubbling with butterflies.
“Y-yes! Though, there is the small issue of him still being absent from our dining room.” He chuckled ruefully. “Well, and his standoffish nature with our daughters. He hasn't been engaging them much, though Ocean did manage to speak to him one one-on-one a few days ago.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, unable to meet her eyes any longer. “So there is some progress there.”
“It may take a long time for him to open up more to you, Clipper.” Her voice sang in his ears at the utterance of his name. “He has been essentially on his own account for years now. Even Mrs. Evergarden hadn't bridged that gap by much before he came to you.”
“We know, your Highness.” He gave a short bow, and the Princess of the Sun waved it away.
“I'm much more interested in the fact that he has actually taken up a vocation!” She giggled excitedly. “And smithing of all things.”
He smiled at that.
“Yes, it has been a surprise for us too. We didn't even know he was interested in an apprenticeship until he brought Master Forager Broadhammer to our home.” Clipper shook his head. “I am uncertain as to why Orion chose a Minotaur to apprentice under. However, I believe they will work well together. Orion’s rather…rough expressions seem to wash off of the old Bull like water off a well-treated sail.”
“Indeed,” Celestia said with a gracious nod. Then she frowned. “However, I know that colt and odds are he may have kept something from you. Has my school informed you about his current status?”
“Not yet, your Highness.”Clipper Line shrugged. “As far as I am aware, he is healthy and engaged in his studies. Next week I am expecting a report from his physical exam. Why? Is there something wrong?”
“There is, yet he seems to not care about it at all.” Her horn glowed softly, and a small envelope appeared in her hand. “His case has come to my attention due in large part to the concern his examiner had, or has, I should say.” She slid the documents across to him and allowed him to pick it up.
Opening it, Clipper quickly glossed over the report and immediately noticed the issue. In his foals' documents, their Mark was always in the upper left-hand corner with a rough explanation of what their cutiemark meant. Orion's was completely blank.
“Did he not allow the examiner to look at him?” He asked.
“No. In fact, Orion cooperated fully with his examiner's instructions. When it came to the discovery of his Mark, or lack thereof, he simply waved it away as a non-issue.” Celestia shook her head in exasperation. “I am unsurprised that he has not mentioned it. Nor am I surprised that he is ignoring the possible ramifications of not having a mark can have on him socially.”
Clipper thought for a moment. Adopting Orion had been a calculated choice. Even with the colt knowing that one of the original plans was to marry him into the clan and refusing it outright, he was still extremely valuable for his insight and expansive knowledge of airships. In his mind, the rough blueprints of that strange little airship he was designing popped into his head.
“I…cannot say I'm surprised he would ignore the possible issues with not having a cutiemark. Knowing what little I do of him, his reaction is what I would expect.” He folded the envelope up, slid it back across, and asked something that had bothered him upon learning of his adopted foal’s predicament. “Why is it that a small portion of ponies are unable to obtain their Mark?”
“There are many speculations. And they are, unfortunately, just that. Currently, there is no known reason for ponies who are unable to receive their destinies, and it is extremely vexing.” She paused. “Honestly, I am not sure if this is going to be an issue for him. In terms of societal impact, he may be restricted in what career paths he may choose. Yet, as far as his quality of life…” she chuckled, “I am positive that it won't affect him in a largely negative fashion. That colt seems to thrive on adversity.”
Both monarch and subject shared a good laugh at that.
“Is there anything else, your Highness?” Clipper asked.
“Not at this time, Mr. Line. Keep me appraised of his life if you would.” Celestia frowned. “Since his altercation with Twilight, I do not get to see him roaming the castle as much as he once did.”
“I am sorry about that.” She waved it off.
“It is the earthquaking events of foalhood. The two will reconcile one day.” She smiled softly.
Once Clipper Line closed the door to the meeting room, Celestia's face lost its benevolent demeanor.
“If I am lucky, he will never darken my halls again.” She found herself muttering out loud.
She had cursed the fool foal's outburst the day Twilight returned in a dark mood. The filly refused to speak to her about it, too. It wasn't till days later, when she found her crying in her room, that she learned the truth.
“Fool. You did the exact opposite of what you claimed you planned.” It angered her greatly that Twilight's ego and heart had taken such a blow. The claim of letting her go gently had been merely a bluff. “Or he had gotten so irritated that he just blurted it all out.”
Either way, the result was the same.
Her gaze fell to the envelope of faux leather before her. Orion without a cutiemark was a sticking point, however. He was far too intelligent just to let go, but his lack of a mark meant it would be that much harder to place him.
She frowned. Rarely did an event come that she had to lie outright. It was so much better to lie by omission than to be so direct about it.
Yet, the simple fact was, she did have an idea why some ponies never got their cutiemarks.
“And to think, it has been going for so long…”
Orion Falls was a pony likely ahead of the career pool. His talent would likely have manifested in a more technologically advanced society. Instead, he had been born too early, and that led to him not having an outlet for abilities that currently lay dormant within him.
Celestia sighed and picked up her tea, frowning when she realized it had gone cold. She very nearly growled. Her mind wandered briefly. More meetings were scheduled for the day, and the tea had already gone cold.
Author's Note
I did it on purpose.
If ya know, ya know. Howdy boys and possibly grills. Hope you all have had a wonderful weekend. Time to get back into the grind! I'm sure your cheers are enthusiastic.
Now, a couple of things.
In the comment section last week. I noticed some thumbs down in some of the statements I and another have made to one another. Distinctly on the harem issue. Now, I have a question, and I'm not going to change my story as its pretty set in stone of what is going to happen, but unless I missed the reason behind those dislikes, why do you all like harem orientated stories so much?
The other question I have is: what's with the hate for andromorphic stories? I've seen a few say its a red flag. I'm at a loss for why.
So please, leave a comment down in the comment section below, if you would be so kind, as I kind of want to figure it out.
As always, thanks for reading.
PEACE.
Author's Note
Hello everybody!
It feels like it has been YEARS since I last posted a chapter or done anything of note.
You being here, reading this, means you have returned to see my rewritten work of the first book of the Orion Saga. Welcome back, I have missed you all terribly.
With this new iteration I hope to improve on what I had done before, and really give you all a story truly worthy of your eyes and imagination. As you read through this, you will note the changes I'm sure.
But I won't continue on. I will let my work speak for me, Thanks to old and new readers for coming to take a look.
Prologue: So Be It
Six for Six, Seven for Two.
For the hope of our future, the evil they must undo.
Let us bind Ourselves to their fates.
For their success is our escape.
-Partial Translation of the text of Alvatus Nod Sangra. Starswirl the Bearded, circa 23 AU.
A spasm of pain brought him instantly awake.
"Oh...fuck..."
He hurt everywhere. His horn throbbed painfully in time with the beat of his heart. His skull felt like Mike Tyson had pounded it in for an hour and no bell was wrung for a break. Everything was muffled, as if someone had shoved cotton in his ears, the ringing wasn't helping shit either. He couldn't even smell.
Snorting, and disturbing broken up dust and debris, he lifted his head with difficulty, muscles seemingly unwilling to cooperate.
"The hell am I…" his dry throat made speaking hard.
The ringing in his ears was beginning to lessen now. That might be a good thing. But he was sure whatever he had done would give him tinnitus for the rest of his life.
Looking first at what was before him he blinked in surprise. There, driven into the ground, was a sign. Quills and Sofas. That was Davenport's store. Behind the sign was rubble of what had once been the shop. He was on Thistledown Street. How in the hell had he gotten there?
Looking around he saw that most of the thoroughfare was in absolute ruins. That was important but he couldn’t remember why.
"What was I doing…"
Pushing himself up he found his second surprise, the world went askew as he toppled over to his left to lie once again in the dirt. He was becoming quite familiar with this particular patch of broken ground.
Lifting his head again, and the arm that failed him, he stared in wonder at his left arm. Or what was left of it. A melted lump of metal was all that remained, smoldering. He could feel the heat coming off of it through the flesh and bone part of his arm.
"When did that happen…." He whispered aloud.
A flash and a rumble he felt more than heard brought his attention skyward. A massive object was listing heavily to the side as gold and black lightning strikes pummeled it unrelentingly.
A flight of pegasi, loaded down with others who could not fly were struck down attempting to flee the ship. As it continued to roll over he realized what it was.
"The 'Solar Flare'...." It was an airship. A big one.
Much like the bolts that struck the ship, memory also returned in explosive jerks, not quite complete. "That's right, I used their own storms against them…" Against who specifically he could not yet remember.
He looked at the melted and smoking remains of his left hand once again. He remembered that he had taken a great deal of that output into himself. Why?
The ringing and quiet ended abruptly, what forced its way into that silence was the groaning of metal, and screams. Screams and the roar of thousands of voices in a pitched battle filled his ears. The smell of charred death suddenly flooded his nose.
He glanced up again to see the 'Flare' careening to the earth. He could now hear it's engines straining and exploding as what was left of the crew worked desperately to right the massive airship. The golden black lightning flashed and the thunder rumbled as the storm continued to wreak havoc on anything still airborne. The once mighty airship finally turned belly up and slammed into a gigantic crystalline castle near the center of town. The impact shattered the structure, and made the power cells inside the vessel detonate in spectacular fashion.
The shock-waves from that explosion ripped the town apart, and sent debris along with himself, flying into the air.
He barely felt the impact when he landed. Instead, regret filled him as he now fully recognized where he was at.
"Twilight is gonna kill me…"
He broke her town. Hell he broke her castle. He just couldn't quite remember why he was even doing any of this.
He flipped back over onto his stomach and carefully lifted himself up on the metal stump of his left arm and the still together right, but when he went to get up with his right leg he nearly face planted again. Pushing himself back up the best he could he looked at where his right leg should have been. Instead the mail and cloth had been melted and burned away to reveal a ragged stump of charred flesh and bone.
"How in the hell did that happen…?" Who, what, when, and why were beginning to be all he could think of. With a smattering of "How" thrown in for good measure.
Logically he realized why he was feeling hardly anything, he was in shock. He couldn't really focus on any one thing for long and it felt like his thoughts were pushing through jello instead of air. His body as well, as he attempted to move it.
The sound of battle made his head lift skyward once more, and he beheld Armageddon.
There were more vessels in the air than had been the once proud 'Flare' . Dozens of them floated in the sky. Many listing as crews fought to keep them upright, more pounding away with heavy cannons and magic bolts of fire and lightning from the unicorn forces aboard them.
Thousands of aerial fighters feinted and struck at one another, peppering the air between vessels as the ship's opened fire on each other.
A great winged shape burst from a cloud bank to collide with a fleeing ship. Yndraiss, the great white dragon of the Rathar Mountain Range tore into an already smoking vessel with huge white clawed hands, crystalized dust pouring off of her.
On her back was...someone, mane a multitude of colors as they casted magic that turned the dust into crystalline blades that poured into the rents the dragon had made.
That would make the caster Cadance.
"They're out of formation, why?" Why did he know that they weren't where they should have been?
A groan emanated behind him, and all thoughts of the battle in the above blanked out of his head. He knew and dreaded that groan. He had heard it often enough today.
Shuffling as best he could on hands and knees, he peered over his shoulder as a mass of building debris shifted and toppled to the side. From the rubble, on unsteady hooves, rose a white mare, fur and armor caked in dirt, shaking her head as she stumbled to her hooves.
Her armor, what was left of it, had been torn apart but still held together in some places. Quickly healing scorch marks marred the exposed fur. Her nose poured with blood, but as he watched on with growing horror he could see that slowing.
Their eyes locked, and she grinned. Her teeth were also regrowing, those that had been knocked out. Like a shark on steroids he could see them sprouting back into place.
Dawnbreaker. This war was started to end her reign before it could truly begin. To stop her from breaking the world in the name of a now dead master.
He remembered everything, and with his remembrance came pain. He felt every gash in his flesh, the broken pinkie on his right hand, his no doubt shattered ribs, all of it screamed for attention in his mind. Nearly drowning out the agony from his missing limbs.
He coughed, blood splattering the ground beneath him. The cracks in his horn pulsed painfully as he began to heal himself as best he could. Flooding magic through that appendage was not a good idea, but he needed it working.
His magic was weaker as well, and he knew why. The band on his left arm, forged in oricalcum, had shattered. Some of it was still embedded in his flesh but it was useless as anything other than a very painful distraction.
Meanwhile she was beginning to stumble less, and looking better and better by the second. Even the wing that had been shorn off in the fall was beginning to grow anew. Though the mass of flesh, bone, and exposed muscle was a sickening sight to watch as it stitched itself together.
Supporting himself on his left stump of an arm his right reached into the pocket of his leather cuirass, surprisingly intact, and fingered the ring there. His 'Hail Mary' . It was with sickening realization that he had been correct, he never truly had a chance of making it out alive. Though he had had hope.
"I have to say little, colt. Not even my sister was able to drive me to such lengths. Truly you are impressive." Her silky voice spoke, like poisoned honey as she grinned widely, and strode over a body that had been tossed with him.
The face had been smashed in so he wasn't sure, but he thought that was Sun Heart.
"Oh Jesus….."
The dead surrounded them on all sides. Pegasi and griffons laid together in piles, some still locked as if in battle. He was sure across the nation the dead piled high like stones. He tried in vain to shake the smell of charred flesh from his nostrils.
The shake made his head spin violently. Coupled with the sickening stench he wanted to throw up from the horror his senses were flooding him with. Luckily, or unluckily, he already did that when the bitch hit him in the stomach with all the speed and mass of a train. Nothing left in the tank for more. He could feel the dented plates there now, digging into his bruised stomach.
Distantly, he could hear the thump of more bodies crashing to the earth. A heavy shudder of impact and following explosion told the tale of what happened to the vessel Yndraiss and Cadance had tangled with.
Dawnbreaker kept up her approach, ignoring the chaos above them just as she was stepping over the corpses that separated them. Her hoof steps were sure, she had obviously recovered her equilibrium.
"In fact, I dare say you are likely the only one to ever drive me this far. Not even when...well that's dead and gone. Much like your hopes of victory I'm afraid." Her smile and tone were mocking. "Not that you had a chance to begin with."
"Man, you certainly like to hear yourself talk." She frowned at that, glaring balefully at him.
"You don't like my voice?" She asked imperiously. How the hell did she impersonate Celestia for so long. Their voices were nothing alike. "I at least beat out the colorful skyrat of a Bearer at the very least."
The conversation was, of course, pointless. She was gloating. Even as she drew closer he could see the battle lines advancing in her favor in the air. Despite the heavy losses her side had suffered at the beginning.
He drew the ring from his pocket and stuck it in the side of his mouth. The ornate design digging into the flesh there uncomfortably.
"Well operation 'Hail Mary' is a go."
"We need a plan B. I agree and I think everypony here agrees that there is no doubt of that, but this is suicide to even consider." Sombra spoke up for what felt like the ninetieth time.
"Yeah well I don't see any other options. Luna can't engage her. They may both be Alicorns but clearly one stands above the other. And there is the fact she might pull her punches out of sentimentality." Muttered Bloodbeak. The King of the Griffons shifted irritability on the icy ledge he had first perched himself on, and hadn't moved from for the better part of two hours. He had been smart and planned ahead by placing a pelt of some animal before, but the padding was definitely not enough for the hard surface.
They all had been arguing on how to defeat Dawnbreaker for the past six days. A subject they had avoided during the early planning stages of the war like the plague.
How does one fight a near godlike being?
"I can fight her!" Luna stood in the middle of the chamber, her breath misted from the cold. Her left hand covered her heart. "I can buy you the time you need at the very least!" The fear in her voice was subdued, but it was there. She didn't want to battle it out with her sister. Hell no one did.
Sunny spoke up, his voice echoing in that surprisingly deep baritone for such a small frame that he had. "Even if you could match her, if we don't stop Artful Hammer in the south it's over. If all we do is delay her in Equestria, it's only a matter of time. Artful will break our line there as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow if you are not there to meet her." He sighed. "This is hopeless."
They collectively groaned at that. Since her boost in power no one really could challenge the bitch, well except Luna.
"Look, I do not care if it's suicidal. Honestly I plan to never use it if I can help it. But I'm not so stupid as to believe that I can just beat her in a straight fight. By now we all know my track record against Alicorns." He glared at Candace.
For what was essentially the embodiment of love, the obnoxiously pink turd was absolutely ruthless in a match.
The Love Princess just smiled sweetly. "What? I had to know if you were even capable. Besides, didn't you beat Aunty Luna?"
That pulled a laugh from him. "Yeah, no. The jury is still out on that one. She was still maintaining that eclipse when we fought, and not in the best mindset besides."
"Well then why not I take the field against her. Luna can remain-"
"Absolutely not!" The black stallion cut in, much to her displeasure judging the sour looking she was giving. "You and Yndraiss are essential to the battle at Garden Glow Valley. We don't have enough; the bulk of Dawncunt's forces will be located there and we need the pair of you there spamming the hell out of your aoes as if it is going out of style at midnight." His face took on a pained grimace. "Besides, Luna beat your ass black and blue last week, you're no match for the elder of the pair."
That made everyone go quiet. It had been rather humiliating for the Empress of the Crystal Kingdom. The Princess of dreams had not been gentle.
"Then cheat my little, drake." Bloodbeak chirped into the silence. "You're good at that! As you say, "always stack the odds in your favor whenever possible". What's different about this?"
"Oh just the fact that in her current form she is nearly twice as powerful as before. She may not have Luna's finesse of magic, but she still has brute power that she'll hammer at us every fucking chance she gets. Fuck me, might as well offer myself up in cooking oil while I'm at it. Do you like your stallion fried or extra crispy?" That pulled a laugh from the old buzzard. He turned back to Sombra. "Besides, I'm trying to cheat and this asshole doesn't want me to." He groused.
"That's because you are ignoring the obvious danger of this plan. You would have to be Literally," he emphasized the word, "on top of her in order to accomplish this."
"No shit? I thought I could mail the spell to her in a scroll and she could just cast it on herself at her leisure. We could all go to Horsululu and drink ourselves stupid in the meantime."
The flat stare back was his only response. He shook his head and asked his question again, what had kicked off the arguments in the first place.
"Can this be done? By me."
"With the ring….yes." He replied. "But you have to understand, this will kill you. The power requirements alone would be enough to sear the ability right out of you. But it will take more keeping it going for any length of time. I mean, look at what happened to me!" His gesture took in his current form, a broken off crystal plinth holding what was left of the one time sovereign, his soul.
In the reflection of the surface of his mortal prison, he could see Cadance grimace. She had made it known what she thought of her father's sacrifice, what Celestia had pushed him to do so long ago.
Orion went on.
"Yeah but that was the point. Otherwise keeping the Crystal Empire away from her would have been impossible." The one time "evil" ruler sighed. Was that in resignation?
"Are we sure Chrysalis won't help?" Spoke up Sunny again.
"After the ass whooping she got? Fuck no she practically hurled me out of her hive like a rag-doll. Besides, her family's numbers are nowhere near what would be needed to cover her." He leaned against an ice stalagmite.
"Why not ask my sister's friends? She and they have come through before, maybe they can do some….thing." Shining Armor wilted under his glare.
"The same reason they don't know about the ring! Or this little meeting. They would stop me at all costs even if it meant we would lose. They already despise the idea of me even stepping a hoof on the battlefield."
It had been hard to keep it from them. Especially Pinkie. She seemed to have a knack for snooping out what should remain hidden. She had given him a sad look this morning as they left on the southbound airship, as if she knew what he was planning.
If she did, she at least understood.
"As it stands, without the Elements, this is our only hope if I can't bring her to heel through less costly methods." He glared at a darkened corner of the cavern. "If someone hadn't planted a certain number of plants, we might have had a better option."
Two different feet shuffled on the time worn icy floor. "I said I was sorry, I can't help what I did in my crazy youth." Discord pulled his arm off to bonk himself on the head.
"Dude, aren't you like a million years old or something?" His arched eyebrow got a sheepish grin from the draconequus.
"It's all relative….."
"No, it's not ya old fuck."
"You woun-"
"Enough!" Luna practically shouted. "We are without options regardless of what has happened. The Elements are lost to us now. They never should have been in our hands to begin with, but my sister and I then had no choice, nor did our people."
She turned to him then. "But you should not do this, you are no Alicorn."
"Oh you're correct on that front. But Twilight is in no position to help us!" He ground his teeth, his mistake. "Besides, if she was with us it wouldn't likely matter. She still sees her beloved teacher in her. Do you really think she could willingly strike her down?"
Her eyes dropped to the ground, and he growled. At himself, not at the Night Princess. None of this was her fault, but it didn't matter, Twilight's suffering just made this plan all the more urgent.
He gestured to the assembled group as he formed his argument.
They knew the truth of him now, of what he truly was. They and a few others at least who couldn't make it to this meeting.
In this crazy group he found those that had truly come to understand him and where he had come from. They had learned of his past, in Luna and Discord's case, rather intimately. They knew his fears and why he had kept quiet with what he knew. And they knew, without a doubt, if not for him, they would have been blindsided by the sudden war.
Much of Griffonia was in ruins. Neighbon was just gone. But their people were safe. They had gotten lucky.
"We need a "Hail Mary". This has to be it." Not much of an argument, but it was truth.
"But Orion," Sombra, looking solemn, spoke quietly, "you have to understand, this spell will take everything from you. It will feed upon you to fuel it's requirements, this will kill you. Slowly and painfully it will drain you, you will die." He reiterated. "You might not get as lucky as I was…"
"So be it."
"So be it…" His voice echoed the memory of that final meeting.
A flame erupted from his right palm just as Dawnbreaker had closed the distance to a couple of feet, slamming his body into her, sending them both tumbling back into the debris field.
By sheer luck he remained atop her as they came to a skidding halt. He leaned back straddling her torso just under her massive chest. He really had fucked her ass up, at least her armor, one whole tit was exposed.
"Well now, perhaps I won't just kill you. While I normally like to be on top, there is something to appreciate about a well groomed stallion rutting between my breasts." She grinned as he glared down at her.
Now that was just nasty.
"Yeah how about no." He put everything he had into headbutting her, rocking her head back violently to slam into the broken cobblestone street. His own ears rang from the blow.
He really needed to apologize about breaking Twilight's town.
"I do like it rough colt, but it's me that gets that pleasure, not you." He had a mental fist pump, he had managed to break her front teeth, again, and she spoke past gargled blood.
"What are you going to do? Hmm? Your toys are broken, your allies are barely keeping my forces back. Once I am done with you it will be over." She smiled again, teeth repaired. Damn that was quick.
"I figure once this is all over, I might try and visit Disneyland. I lived by it for years and never bothered to go." Her confused look was worth the chuckle. She had surprisingly made no effort to shove him off yet.
"Give it up Orion, I can fix your leg, I'll even allow you to repair that left arm of yours, it's been too long to reconstitute an entire limb now but you can still have it back. Truly a marvel, and from what I hear, you did the same for the Element of Loyalty too." Her eyes took on a sultry look that made his spine want to leave this plane of existence. "All that I ask of you is for you to become my pet, and I will actually spare them." Her voice was not a pleading tone, but more factual, as if she knew it as a forgone conclusion that he was going to lose. As if she knew the coming events and that he would have eventually caved to her demands.
If he kept hesitating, she would be proven true.
"Here is my counter offer," he reached for her horn before she could react. His right hand nearly shattered under the force of the chaotic frequencies he projected into her horn, cracking it like glass. The last band on his arm exploded, driving shrapnel into his flesh and burning away the fur there.
Her scream of agony silenced the battlefield. Or he could have gone deaf. Either way he wasn't hearing much of anything.
With shaking fingers he pulled the ring from his mouth, placing it around his own horn. There was blood on the green gem. The vibrations from the spell thoroughly fucked his hand and he almost dropped it twice in his haste.
The ring spun it's way down, settling at the base. It had taken twelve unicorns and a master forger from Minos to craft. The crafting had left them all useless for much else, even the minotaur who hammered it into existence was now laid up in a hospital in Minos.
Thirteen of the very best and brightest had forged a masterpiece, and somehow it ended up sitting off center on his horn. The fact that it had decided to do him like that irked him. He pushed all that away, no more time.
Dawnbreaker stared back up at him dazed, her eyes unfocused. "You…. you're always so full of surprises. But we both know….you can't…wait...what is that? What are you doing now?" She was not alarmed, her tone was more disgruntled curiosity than anything else.
But alarmed she soon would be. Hopefully.
He had never been a religious man. That had been his grandparents, more specifically his grandmother's, shtick. But as he opened his lips, more of a distraction for her, the words that spilt forth seemed oddly appropriate.
"Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with Thee.
Blessed art thou amongst women,
And blessed is the Fruit
Of thy Womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
Pray for us sinners now,
And at the hour of our Death.
Amen."
His grandma would have been so fucking proud of him.
"What are you doing? Are you insane!? You'll kill yourself!" Oh she was pissed and panicking. Awesome.
While he had been praying, he had also been constructing the matrix for this spell. This gargantuan, potentially life ending, spell.
Seven layers of gold and black script, interlinked within itself, hovered above them. His cracked and sparking horn barely held together under the strain. The algorithms for the spell falling into place, almost eager to see this done as the world was. As he was not.
His eyes were beginning to blur as he was sure hers were beginning to focus.
Orion knew she would not be able to tell what it was for, it being only cast once before and even this version was heavily modified from the original.
The pain was starting to eat at him in earnest.
"So be it."
As he touched his horn to her quickly healing one, the world went white with agony.
And he thought she screamed before.
Author's Note
Right back on schedule. This chapter is brought to you by the efforts of my lovely editor, and Grammarly. Let us know how good a job the combination did, I think it did better than my roughshod editing from last week at least.
Thank you all very much for reading.
Peace!
Back Alley Brawl
He jerked awake in a tangle of sheets and sweat, his arms and legs flailing as his voice gave a strangled cry. “THE FUCK WAS THAT!?” He struggled a bit more until he fell from the bed onto his head.
Picking his head up he gazed about in fear. "The fuck was that…" he repeated again, the still night air gave no answer. The memories of his dream, no nightmare, were already fading save for a melodious evil laugh and glowing teal green cat-like eyes in the darkness. He let his head thump back to the wooden floor with a groan. He was covered in sweat, and the muggy air was not helping in the slightest. Not for the first time did he wish ponies knew a thing or two about air-conditioning because he was getting tired of waking up with his small clothes stuck to him.
He didn't remember it being this bad back in Manehattan, hell even Stalliongrad. Though the latter might have been due to location. Still, the point stood, someone needed to invent A/C and pretty damn quickly.
Horn coming to life, he unknotted the sheet that had gotten tangled up with his limbs, and somehow his neck and horn too. A useful spell “Vestigo” was, had learned due to Twilight cramming into his skull. The filly had been scouring tomes and scrolls for spells that he could use with his low amount of magic. This particular spell allowed him to trace patterns. In this case threads and many of them. Couple that with levitation, and he could unwind anything given enough time. There was a spell called “Explico” , but it wasn’t wise to use it on anything that was wrapped around someone like he was. The results could be catastrophic.
It didn't take long to disentangle himself from the sweat heavy mess, sitting up he chucked the sheet away from him. He leaned against his bed frame, mind still whirling from the obvious nightmare that had plagued him moments before. Though details were beyond him other than the aformentioned pair of teal cat eyes staring at him from the darkness, the laughter was damn near spine numbing.
"The fuck was that?" He asked once more and then snorted. Who was going to answer him about what was in his own dreams? Even he rarely knew what was in his head from the time his eyes closed to when they opened again. He had never really remembered his dreams, there were the vague ideas of memories earned in the realm of sleep, but nothing as concerning as tonight. His life being what it was, he wasn't sure he wanted to remember the process in which his mind sorted through the memories of his existence.
His hand rose shakily to his brow and he wiped, sweat soaking into the fur of his palm. “Oh, gross, I need a shower.”
Stumbling down the hall to the bathroom in the dark, trying very hard not to trip into anything, he managed to get the light on and looked at his face in the mirror. “Well, I look fuckin’ awful.” Staring back at him was a haunted colt he did not seem to recognize. Fur and mane matted to his skin, he looked like he had been tossed into the spin cycle with lube.
"I'm sleeping naked from now on. This is bullshit." He lamented, plucking at his sweaty undergarments, to his dismay, it sounded very much like wet velcro pulling from his fur-covered flesh.
The longer he looked at himself, the more he realized just how big he had gotten. Orion hadn't really taken the time to look at himself since he first arrived in Manehattan years ago, other than in passing to sort his mane or some such. So seeing the buff, tired colt form in the mirror before him held a bit of an uncanny valley sort of feel.
In his head, he had the image of an angry pony midget, all muscle-bound impotent rage as his arms and legs barely moved. Maybe he should see if there were yoga classes he could get into, no sense bulking out if he couldn’t move his neck. Plus, it might be a good idea to maintain a more lithe form.
Yanking off the undershirt, he smiled as he ran a hand over his abdominals. He had never in his life had abs before now. "Oh yeah, I am gonna be a lady killer. Or is it a mare killer? Man, these ponies need to make up their fucking minds on the vernacular!" Their choice in verbiage was strange, he got it, but it was just weird how they used lady or ladies, but not man or men. Another tally against the near-complete sexism of the world.
Pulling off his undies and tossing them with the shirt he started the cool water in the shower. He was careful to keep the temperature a few degrees above mountain spring cold. He had learned that lesson the other day when his entire crotch tried to internalize itself. For that matter his ears and tail too. He had become a pony version of a Ken Doll in a matter of seconds and felt like hours before he could feel his extremities once more.
How was it this hot this high up in the mountains? It should have been at least a little cooler given the elevation, but instead, the summer heat felt like he was in the crevice of Satan's ass.
The door to the communal bathroom opened softly, and a reedy, stern voice spoke out. "The bathroom at this hour is meant only for the toilets to be used, young foal. Come out of that shower this instant."
"Oh God, this bitch."
Thorny Branch was a wafer-thin earth pony mare of an indeterminate but ancient age this side of a coffin. Short, with an even shorter temper, the earth yellow mare and Orion did not get along. Unlike Mrs. Evergarden and her assistant, this mare did not disappear in April, much to his dismay, and he was forced to go out of his way to avoid the woman when and where he could.
Mrs. Branch was an insufferable person at the best of times. She had the belief that colts and stallions were meant to be seen and not heard. He obviously, and loudly, disagreed with that idea. There had already been three altercations, the last resulting in him snatching the soap away from her and spewing the contents at her. Repeatedly.
He had been determined to drive his point home that time and at least the soap had not returned, but she had yet to relent. He better say something before her gnarled fingers opened his stall door.
"I woke up from a nightmare, felt like I had been drenched in hog spit and I needed a shower or I was gonna smell like armpit in the morning." That was straight and to the point. Besides, he didn't want to smell like armpit.
"Then you should have come to get either me or Mrs. Evergarden. Don't make those kinds of decisions for yourself." She hissed. He could just hear over the din of the shower, the clack of her hooves indicating her taking quick steps toward the stall he was in.
"Woman, I swear on the blood of Christ that if you try to reach in here I will do my best to beat you with anything I can reach. Including the stall door." He carefully moderated his tone, no need to wake up the entire orphanage. Satisfyingly he heard her pull up short. If he gave her any leeway in which she thought she could bully him around she would, and it would be an uphill fight to get her to back down.
"I swear by Faust's name you need to be switched." She growled. "Always acting the Jane Filly, that's no way for any colt to act."
He snorted. Jane Filly, their term for tomboy but for colts. He supposed it fit him well enough but it made him sound like such a girl. Compared to any other male he had so far encountered he might as well be.
Stallions, as he was often reminded, in society didn't have positions of authority unless they were born into it. Even then the mares' status equal to a stallion's station would still often end up having them taking charge more often than not. Nor did the males seem to have much desire for themselves beyond that, happy to let the females take lead on almost everything. He now knew what women's suffrage was, and he longed for the day of a civil rights movement that would overturn all of that. Not that he was gonna start it, but he hoped and prayed for it all the same.
Still, no one seemed to want to challenge him on his actions. Save for the angry lady beyond the stall door.
"You know what Mrs. Branch?" He never called her names, at least to her face. Orion didn't want to seem petulant. "I'll likely scream and yell if I was. And ya wanna know something else? Once it was over, I’d be just the same as before.”
"Only I'd be hunting your ass down right after with that very same switch."
This right here, this mare, had likely been the start of why he was suddenly okay with hitting a woman, mare in this case. Well, it might have begun before with Moya back in Stalliongrad. But this…creature solidified it.
They had all the power in the dynamic between the sexes. Many were often bigger and stronger than their male counterparts which was most likely the result of breeding and evolution.
He could hear her muttering, but she hadn't said anything else, and he decided to take his time cleaning off the last of the nightmare from his body.
By the time he had shut the water and toweled off he could hear the rapid tap of her hoof on the tile floor.
"Are you quite finished?" She was miffed but seemed to have her temper under control. "Someponies need their sleep." Maybe not.
"No one asked for you to stay up, I'm a big colt, I can get myself back to bed." He stepped out into the stall clad in only a towel.
"Where are your clothes!" His magic flared to life, such as it was once he learned how pitiful the light actually was, and lifted the sticky mass of fabric.
"Right here." He responded.
Mrs. Branch glared at him, the severe pull of the bun she always wore making it harsher. "You didn't think to bring your night clothes with you?!"
"Nope, couldn't imagine why anyone would be up at this hour to harass me." You old goat was implied in the silence. He brushed by her, not even waiting for a response, and left.
"Give her an inch and she'll take the entire mile. And the fucking village."
Getting to his room, he tossed the smelly clothes into the wicker hamper in the corner. It had been one of his suggestions, he had grown tired of having to haul his laundry down every morning before school. It was tedious and he often had to wait behind others before he could give up his payload and make a dash out the door. Mrs. Evergarden hadn't understood its purpose at first, but she had allowed him to order the thing made. When he hadn't come down with his laundry in a few days she had come to his room expecting a mess. Now all the kid's rooms had a hamper, and during that time, he had started taking care of his own laundry. Using the limited heat spell he had learned in class, meant to keep food warm, dried them quickly in the laundry room before putting them away in his dresser.
She had protested, but when he had made his case that if he was only gonna show up once or twice a week he might as well do it himself, besides he could study while he waited. That had made her finally relent, and Mrs. Branch had argued that he should be taking on all the laundry. As a proper colt should she had claimed. There were no colts in residence at the time, so of course, it all would fall to him. Fortunately for him, Mrs. Evergarden sided with him on that one.
But that had been the start of the arguments, the contest of wills between the pair.
Said mare stomped in after him and he pushed the small pony right back out with magic. He may not be that strong magically speaking, but he was a force with telekinesis.
"I try to keep civil with you. But if you try and come in here so you can annoy me more, I swear I will make you eat the contents of my hamper. Knock it off." Thinking back to a few minutes ago and at their entire brief history, that may be a lie.
He wasn't sure, the flickering light of his magic made it hard to see clearly, but he thought he saw her eyes widen and mouth fall open. He sighed in exasperation. If he let this go on the two would be going at it like cats in the morning. He knew he wasn't going to change but this lady seemed to believe she could browbeat him into submission. He dropped his magic field.
"Listen. I get it, you've grown up where stallions listened to their betters. Colts did all the chores and never complained." He released her, and she only stood there just beyond the door frame, watching him. "But I will not, nor will you ever get me to, be like them. I am my own person. I will not change for you just because you bitch about it. You can raise all the stink you want. But all you will make me do is plot for ways to get back at you."
Thorny Branch stared at him, without the light from his aura he couldn't tell what she might be thinking.
"I could take your study time away from you." She whispered, half to herself. He snorted.
"Yeah and let's see how that goes with Mrs. Evergarden. Plus, how would you go about doing so? I can already read just fine, better than most actually, and I still go to school. I'll just stay at the library there. Or hell, take Twilight's offer up and just go to the castle. Anyone else would see this as a no-win scenario but you feel you can break me. Besides, you would really be that petty?" She gave no answer.
By now he had taken hold of the door, prepared to hit her with it if she tried to force her way in again.
"You have been on me since you started in February. Give over. You do an awesome job with everyone else.” He glared at her when she opened her mouth to correct him. “You also have this place running smoother than I’ve ever seen it. You know your business, now, let me do mine.”
It was true, the mare was a whirlwind of efficiency when it came to getting the building in order and filing requisitions for things the orphanage needed. She even approved of the hamper idea, saying her family had something like it back when she still had foals living under her roof. She even beamed to know it was his idea, to begin with, then soured when he had laughed at her suggestion that he do all the laundry.
"So I'm just supposed to allow you to run around and do as you will? Let you ruin your future prospects with a herd?" She finally said. Was that defeat in her voice he heard?
"Yes. This might come as a surprise to you, but I don't want anyone to adopt me. Furthermore, I don't plan on getting into a relationship of any kind for a very long time." Sure, he'd bang the shit out of any mare that would let him, but he wasn't about to let himself get tied down with a wife, wives, and kids. He wanted to live, to discover this world for himself. Books don’t tell you everything after all.
He could clearly see the shock on her face now. Darkness couldn't cover that.
"But why? Why would you not want a loving family to take care of you? To raise you?" He hadn't been expecting the pleading tone, and he almost gaped in return. He had never suspected her of caring like that.
Every interview that had ever been made for him in Manehattan with a herd or couple he purposely sabotaged. Hard. Here he had only gone through three before he told Mrs. Evergarden to stop it.
He wondered if he should explain it to this old crone.
"Fuck it."
"Simply put, I don't care about it, and I won't pretend to." He put his hand up at her jerk. "Listen, any family that would take me into their home would expect me, at my age, to call them moms and dad at some point. It won't happen. They will not be happy, and I don't want to deal with that fallout. Believe it or not, I’m happy here. Sure I think some of the rules shouldn't apply to me, and I may violate the hell outta them like tonight. But I tend to stick to what I say. So believe me when I say I don't wanna."
"And….and a family of your own? A herd? What about that?"
The hesitancy only gave him a little pause. "Finally."
"What about it? So I can have someone demand of me? Like you? I will never be happy, nor will they, and I will be happy." He had thought he had been happy back then, only to realize now that he had just been drifting through life just doing enough. Like it or not his time here in this world had shown him what he was lacking.
Ambition. Desire. The need for more. He had never had that.
Mrs. Branch looked at him. The steely feeling he normally got from that gaze wasn't there.
"I see," she said quietly. Then she left.
Would that be the end of it? Not likely, but maybe they had come as close to equilibrium as they would get.
He closed the door, Orion dropped the towel into the hamper as well and jumped into his wet bed.
"Jesus fucking Christ…." He groaned.
"Why are you laughing?!" She shrieked.
This was the third time she had asked and she was at her wit's end over it.
Orion had been laughing since she had entered the garden. Mrs. Evergarden had told her where to find him when she had walked into the foyer. The matron had been walking down the hall with a bundle of crafting supplies and was just about to enter the reception room when she had noticed the purple filly.
Mrs. Branch just sniffed loudly and turned down the hall in the opposite direction, a duster gripped in her fist.
That mare was what her mother would have called 'old fashioned’. Old, but straight back as a lightning rod, the curmudgeonous mare seemed to have it out for her friend. Though Twilight did understand, he did have a tendency to shirk all custom and respectability. He didn't act like any of the other colts she had met since coming into Princess Celestia's teachings. He didn't seem to like yielding to others either, mare or stallion alike. The fact that he proved himself right more often than not was a sticking point for many ponies in school.
He had not made any friends in class, no, just the opposite was happening.
Rumors were being spread about him, but he ignored them. Fillies, and a few colts, had taken to vandalizing his locker since the beginning of January. And from what she had been told by Moon Dancer, a filly she had met in class this past year, he was being targeted even more than usual in Theory class.
He never showed that it bothered him, but it must. It had to! Nopony could go through that and have it not affect them.
His conflict with Mrs. Branch just seemed to be the latest in a long line of ponies with growing animosity towards him.
Stepping out into the garden, she observed him. Leaning his back against the brown trunk of a red-leafed tree as he sat amongst its exposed roots, Orion had his head in a book. She smiled softly. The Princess was right, they had a lot in common in that regard.
Stepping forward her hoof fell on a branch left on the ground, snapping it in two.
The black pony's head snapped up in her direction, horn alight, with three small pebbles floating around him. She stopped dead.
"I told you lady I've already….oh, welcome back, Grape." The stones dropped and the horn's aura winked out. "Sorry about that. I thought you were Lady Ballbuster." His eyes squinted at her for a moment before his chuckles reached her ears.
He was laughing at her!
"And what is so funny?" She sniffed loudly, giving him a very pointed look.
Twilight hated when she had become the butt of one of his jokes. They were often mean-spirited and made her feel bad for a good while. Though, he was quick to apologize when he figured out what was bothering her.
Usually.
Today seemed not to be the day.
"Wore a sunhat did ya?" He giggled.
"How did he know?!"
She had worn a sunhat to the beach. She had been forced to wear it, seeing that was the only way she could read and study otherwise in the gaze of the Princess’s blazing sun. Her family insisted on visiting the beach during the warm hours despite her protests. She hadn't wanted to fall behind after all, so she bore the cap long sufferingly.
The hat did a surprisingly good job shielding her eyes from the sun, even if it was a bit floppy. But the result was that her fur, where the sun’s rays touched, had lightened considerably.
The headwear had also served as an excellent barrier between her and a brown-furred pegasus colt that had suddenly started to bother her the last week they were there.
He had kept trying to get her to go to a lū'au with him. She had been polite, but firm in her refusal, and that seemed only to encourage him.
"Would you like to go cliff diving?"
"Wanna come with me to the arcade?"
"I know a secluded strip of beach…"
She had refused it all, and more. His constant pestering had made her flush in frustration. She could not understand why he couldn't get the hint that he was distracting her from something important.
Her parents were absolutely no help at all, laughing the way they were, even Shining only snickered at her discomfort. She had expected more from her BBBFF. He was supposed to save her from crazy ponies. He was an officer of the Royal Guard after all.
That thought had only brought up the fact that this was the first vacation she and her family had had in a very long time. Not since Shining Armor started his officer training. And it will be a long while before the next as he was scheduled for a tour of assignments that would leave little room for him to see her.
She had cried their last night there, her brother holding her and giving comforting squeezes.
It had been the same when he had gone into training the year before she had become Princess Celestia's student.
Now she was home, and Orion was laughing at her.
He dodged the sudden mineral missile that was rather sharp just narrowly. His mouth dropped open in surprise as the pebbled buried itself in one of the small trees in the garden, head-turning he stared back at Twilight in shock.
She had thrown a rock at him, he almost couldn't believe it. Almost. He had gone out of his way to annoy her on more than one occasion, but he suspected there was more at play than just his mild teasing. For all the filly's faults she never lost her temper, oh sure she would lose her patience at the drop of a hat, but rarely did she get angry and lash out.
"Okay…. something got your panties in a wad. What's eating you?"
Her face had morphed from one of anger to shocked shame. "Nothing!" She said quickly, eyes darting everywhere but at him.
Her quickly reddening face gave the lie, as much as her fidgeting posture.
He scooted over from his spot against the tree and smiled at her gently. Patting a place near where he was sitting and gestured her over with the other hand. Not saying anything.
For a minute he thought she wouldn't move, even retreat. Finally, she slowly walked over and sat next to him. Neither said anything and he was content to let the silence last till she was ready to talk. His eyes drifted to the kitchen window that overlooked the garden and he spotted the “Crone”.
Mrs. Branch had a puzzled frown on her face and looked to have been watching for a while. He glared at her hard till she noticed she had been spotted. That neutral expression returned as she vanished from the window.
"Nosey ass bitch."
"I'm not going to see my brother for a very long time." Twilight's voice quietly spoke up, he almost didn't hear her, and nearly jumped in surprise at her voice.
"Spill kiddo." He said with a smile.
She smiled back and spilled. Boy did she spill.
"Okay, I can see why all the trips were so important to her and her family. But BBBFF? For real!?"
He had refrained from laughing as she told of her family's latest trip. Their last trip.
She spoke of what she saw, she ended up studying a good portion of the plant life on Horsululu. The name nearly broke him. Twilight also talked about the colt who had been clearly hitting on her, that was a little weird considering the gender roles in this world. He'd have to find out if that was a cultural thing for them, and how he might be able to move there.
But most importantly she talked of her brother. Shining Armor.
The stallion had started his training five years ago, and had little time for her since, as he was often on tour or assignment that placed him outside the country. Very unusual, given how the military seems to feel about their male service members. Then she mentioned his rather impressive, and intimidating talent.
Shining was capable of creating shields of various shapes and sizes. By sizes that meant anything as small as a pin, to as big as Canterlot itself if he had the right amplifier. There were relics of ages before Equestira’s founding that could amplify his ability and he was authorized to use them in situations that constituted an emergency. There hadn't been another individual capable of that since some General named Iron Wall, some two thousand years ago.
So the guard, Celestia in reality, had made an exception. Shining Armor was a true blue combat stallion. The purpose of these tours wasn't really known to Twilight or her family. Only that it was important for him to go. Orion thought maybe it had to do with learning to adapt to multiple scenarios and environments.
But that was what truly had gotten under her skin. The fact that her brother was gone for very long periods of time. He had been her best friend since she was tiny, her only friend till Orion himself showed up and Celestia strong-armed him into it. That wasn’t to say time with the Horse of Books wasn’t fun, and he actually enjoyed her company more often than he thought he would, but it really cut into what he had planned originally.
Still with all the training Shining was going through, it meant that they rarely got to see each other, and could barely communicate as his location was often on a need-to-know basis.
He had made it worse by teasing her right out the gate the moment she had come to visit him. Granted he had no idea that this all was going through her mind, but maybe he should have gauged her mood before starting in on her like he always did.
He often forgot that despite her intelligence, she was still just a kid, and couldn’t take the rather rough humor as often as he liked.
"Listen Twilight, I'm sorry if I laughed and hurt your feelings earlier. I didn't mean to make you upset." He sighed. "Honestly I had no idea there was anything bothering you." He wrapped his arm around her to give her a hug. "No one likes when they are forced to be apart from someone they care for. Not even me. But your brother is securing his future, in a mare-dominated profession no less, that's pretty fuckin' amazing."
"But...what about me?" She whined, leaning her head against his shoulder. She had returned the one-armed hug.
"Twiggy. He hasn't abandoned you." He chastised gently, risking a chuckle that got her lips to twitch. "Just cause he will be transferred elsewhere, and possibly everywhere, doesn't mean he stopped being your BBBFF." He could not believe he said that with a straight face. "Write to him more if that makes you feel better, but don't expect him to return letters often. With his career choice, he may not get the option to write back as often as you, but I'm sure he will."
"Then what do I do without him around?"
"Simple, don't let him down." Her head jerked up to look at him, her arm slipping from his back.
"What do you mean?"
Standing up he snatched a couple of leaves from the ground, fiddling with them. He wasn't good at this. How do you coach someone to do their best?
"Do ya think he would be comfortable knowing that his long absences from your life are hurting you? Making you worry?"
She shook her head. But surprisingly didn't say anything. The filly certainly wasn't giving him much to work with.
"That's right. He likely has the same worries for you. How your studies are going. How your life is led without him. The best thing you can do is show him that you can take care of yourself. Make him proud of what you're accomplishing in what the Princess assigns you. Do as you have when he first went, and send him all the details. That way he doesn't have to worry for you."
He hoped that was right. It sounded right. What he should have done is send her back to her parents with these concerns, instead his dumbass had to try and fix it himself.
Twilight sat for a while, getting that scrunched-up look on her face when she was trying to figure something out. Nodding she smiled and looked up at him.
"You're right. I can't just mope about all the time. He wouldn't want that." She thought for another moment. "Mom and Dad wouldn't want that either. Thanks, Orion."
He waved a hand at her.
"Not like I did much but tell you what was plain to anyone else if ya asked. At least I helped you skip days of blubbering before you figured it out for yourself. For such a smart person it can sometimes take you forever to reach the obvious conclusion." He chuckled.
"Hey! I don't blubber!" His chuckles turned to outright laughter as she swung a fist in a mock assault.
"Oh yeah? I remember a certain filly bawling her eyes out at missing a test. All because that unnamed filly had gotten caught up in some spooky book full of Grimm fairy tales that she fell asleep drooling in."
Well, she hadn't told him that she drooled, but he had his suspicions about her sleeping habits.
"That's not...what you said. And “Starswirl the Bearded's Predictions and Prophecies” is not some spooky book! It's-"
"Yeah yeah. Ya told me before. I don't need a repeat!" He had not wanted to hear it again.
The book itself had fallen into her possession back in March, and she had become glued to it. She almost always found a way to bring it up, and this time he had triggered the discussion.
It was interesting, the little he had read from it, but it was all just nonsense. The idea that there was a red centaur that had been imprisoned in a place known as Tartarus for the crimes of draining magic from ponies was laughable. Then there was the creature named Discord, of which the book was fervent in its desire that no one says the name out loud, was a creature of pure chaos that had once ruled the world at one point. And at some time in the future, he was destined to break free once more to wreak havoc on the land once more.
It was full of children's tales. Stories meant to frighten little fillies and colts into obeying their parents. Even if the passages did speak of these events coming soon. And took some very dark turns.
Thinking quickly, he came up with the ultimate distraction. Ice cream.
"Hey. A new ice cream parlor opened up just down the street. I got some bits. Why don't we get some to celebrate your return?"
Orion was now allowed to wander their street, proving himself more responsible than most foals his age had been easy. He did hope that nothing was too sweet this time, ponies and their sugar was death for a normal mortal man.
Twilight's eyes glowed. Of course, she had a sweet tooth.
"That sounds great! I just picked up “Legends of the Surf” back in Horsululu! We can go over that while we eat!" She excitedly beamed, grabbing his arm, and she dragged him from the garden.
"Not more books! Dear God, this girl needs a fucking hobby!" He let himself be hauled away, internally screaming.
Thorny watched the pair of foals dash out the foyer and into the street beyond. A small smile on her face.
She was surprised. At eleven years old, Princess Celestia's student should have been the more collected one. Instead, in that dynamic, it was Orion that seemed to lead the pair despite him being dragged about now.
He was smart. Smarter than any colt she had ever met. And stubborn didn't even begin to describe him. Since February, she had watched him nearly have the run of the place. While he never caused trouble, he also never took orders or direction from anypony unless he was asked. He went his own way, often with no pony's involvement. Even Mrs. Evergarden held an easy hand with him.
Back in her day, you tell a colt to do something he did it, without complaint.
But Orion was unlike anypony she had ever met. He was far too aggressive for one. Even more so than the most ornery of fillies she had met in her life. Bold in his actions as well.
When she had first begun her tenure, she had kept her comments to herself. Choosing instead to get a feel for the establishment. All the foals were well behaved, bright, and even-tempered. Even the griffon was a rather pleasant filly, and she accepted the fact that she was a meat eater with little qualms.
But on her third day, she had discovered what was a well-known fact about the black colt with the way everypony else reacted to it. Orion Falls also ate meat, sometimes in larger quantities than even Screaming Rush.
When she stormed into Mrs. Evergarden's office to demand to know what was going on, she was simply handed his file. No word was spoken. Reading through it, and the little notes the directress had put in herself, her eyebrows rose to her mane. He was more than just a meat-eater. He was some type of mixed breed. Though none of the features of the non-unicorn parent was in evidence save for his teeth.
It had chilled her blood to have that in her hands.
Blinking, she realized she had gotten lost in her thoughts. Looking about herself, she noticed nopony was near her, the hallway quiet. Her gaze swept to the entrance of the orphanage once more, lips pursed in thought. Shaking her head she made her way in the other direction, toward her own rooms.
Stepping inside she closed the door behind her, and turned and smiled at the furnishings that had been put in for her. The three-room apartment had been a wonderful surprise. Her last position, as a social worker in Trottingham, had not afforded her such luxury. So it was nice to settle her old bones into comfort. The bed had been especially nice.
Which had been one of the reasons she was in such a temper the other night when rushing water had broken through her sleep. The sewage pipe to the colts’ bathroom ran through the wall near her bed.
But maybe that had been for the better. That confrontation had confirmed for her that nothing she would ever do would change him. Though, surprisingly, he had tried his best to be reasonable, violent, but reasonable. He had acknowledged her efforts and even complimented her on her work ethic. For the first time since their contest had begun, he had shown something other than disdain. Understanding was not something she had expected from him.
She had been aghast that he had come out against the idea of adoption. But as he explained, she realized he was fully aware and accepting of the ramifications of being without a herd, and she had to agree that he was right about what may happen. For a nine-year-old pony, he knew exactly what he wanted. And he had a goal he wasn't about to tell anypony else till he was ready. Or at least that's what she was beginning to suspect.
She sat down at her desk, a rather ornate if simple affair in dark wood with an equally ornate high back chair. Leaning over she fiddled with the small desk safe that was sitting there, pulling out a stack of notes and letters. Opening an inkwell and dabbing her quill into it, she began writing down the day's events. More specifically the events surrounding him.
Twilight Sparkle being his friend had been a stunning revelation. Nopony had told her when she took the assignment, but judging by her constant visits it was obvious they were as close friends as a pony could get with another. Even if he did treat her like a little sister more often than not.
There really was nothing to report beyond that. He might not be held in high regard, but save for a few perpetrators, foals and teachers had a fairly decent opinion of him even with the crass nature he went about with. Though rumor has it, he suffered from being bullied by certain students at school.
She had made careful inquiries about that.
She sighed, school wouldn’t begin for another three weeks, and her report would not be sent out for four. Plenty of time.
Looking out the window she could just see him and Lady Sparkle leaving the creamery. His ice cream was already going into a waste bin as he stuck his tongue out.
She found herself chuckling. He really despised sweet things.
What in this colt had upset the higher-ups of the CFP so much for them to make her take up the assignment here? With as little as she had found, there was likely nothing any of them could do about it. Or need to for that matter.
She eyed the unused fireplace in the corner of her room and idly wondered if she would be here long enough to enjoy it.
Summer was nearly over. School was right around the corner, and Orion was exhausted.
The past week he had been doing nothing but running back and forth to school and the gym. Aside from his normal activities, grabbing the required curriculum and his class schedule, which seemed to come piecemeal with the curriculum. Like they were making it up as they went along.
It was annoying that he had yet to determine his own class studies. Presumably, when he went to high school, or Secondary School as it was called here, he would have more freedom with his class courses.
He was grateful for this sunny Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Evergarden had thought it nice to take all the foals, a new batch besides himself, to one of the larger parks on the second plate.
He had no book with him today. Today was about him and relaxing, he wasn't even going to go to the gym today. Pilate would not be happy. She had begun giving speeches, speeches that had begun to sound like a feminist movement but for stallions. While he longed for revolution, he was not about to let her pull him along. It was strange though, he never expected her to want stallions and mares to be equal like that before. Did something happen? He shook his head, he was here to relax, not overthink shit.
Leaning against an old oak he watched the kids play, chasing and falling all over each other. It was cute, it reminded him a bit of those old videos on YouTube of foals just being born. All legs and no balance. This new group did not know him and had immediately tried to get him to join in on their games. It took more than a little firm denial to get them to leave him alone. But after flashing his teeth and growling the best he could, which hurt the hell out of his throat, they elected to leave him alone.
Mrs. Evergarden was over in the shade of another tree sitting on an old bench, a romance novel in her hand. There were pegasi flying about, and ponies of all ages chatting up a storm.
Peaceful.
Orion's eyes began to shut, there was an odd sound. His ear flicked. That sound happened again. Someone was in distress about something.
Cracking an eye open, he searched for the offending noise. Kids playing and falling, Mrs. Evergarden reading, a stallion pushing a colt who was protesting halfheartedly toward an alley across the street, a flight of pegasi soaring overhead. Ponies yammering away in a cafe across the way.
He frowned, something was off but his groggy mind couldn't latch onto it. Pushing himself up into a sitting position he looked around again.
Mrs. Evergarden reading, kids playing, a stallion pushing a struggling colt into an alley, a flight of-
His eyes locked onto the stallion and colt that swiftly disappeared into the alley entrance. His frown deepened. He thought he recognized the older pony and the younger for that matter.
Getting up, he looked around to see if anyone had noticed what he noticed. Nothing. There were guards a fair distance down the boulevard that ran along the side of the park, but they seemed engrossed in eyeballing another stallion who was fixing a flower bed's arrangement.
He snorted, more like eye fucking.
Turning back to the alley he saw no one there now. He shot another quick glance at Mrs. Evergarden. She still had her nose buried in her book. A blush was slowly darkening her fur. Must be getting to the steamy part.
He had taken a step before he realized it, toward the darkened path between the buildings. When had he stood up?
"Just take a peek, that's it. Make sure nothing is amiss. Besides, it's likely just a father and son taking a known shortcut."
But when he got to the entrance, he saw nothing. The alley was empty. Had he imagined it? Maybe he had dreamt it. Turning his head and thinking of leaving, his ears caught the sound of metal banging stone. He peered back into the depths and saw the alley bent in a way he hadn't noticed before.
He turned back to the park again, no one seemed to have heard anything, nor noticed his disappearance from the oak tree. The logical part of his brain told him to go right back over to his orphanage's matron and let her deal with it.
He hesitated. If he did, and it was nothing, he was going to look an absolute idiot.
"Shit…" He sighed to himself. "Fine, I'll just go in far enough to make sure it was just one of them tripping over a can or something. This is so stupid! Why am I doing this?"
His iron-shod hooves sounded loud in his ears as the noise echoed and magnified in the narrow alleyway. He should have taken them off. The rustle of his plainclothes made him keenly aware of the fabric rubbing against his fur.
In short order, and a fair amount of stumbling accompanied with some quiet cursing, he managed to get to the bend and looked around the corner. His face morphed from one of curiosity to horror.
There were no windows in this part of the corridor between brick and stone buildings, and little light to boot. But he could still clearly see Mr. Cottonridge, magic pulsing, holding the younger colt face-first against the wall. The brown pony's limbs were wrapped up in the blue magic field of the teacher, his little horn as well. The poor child's pants were being tugged down by the bigger stallion’s hands...
The colt was kicking and thrashing for all he was worth but not moving an inch.
"If you didn't always fight…so much this would be more pleasurable for you. I might even return the favor. Stop moving you cur!" His full arm slap to the side of his face sent the kid bawling but weakened. He no longer struggled.
Orion had seen enough and struck out faster than he ever thought he could.
Cottonridge's head was rocked by an overturned trash can turned metal battering ram. He had just begun fiddling with the laces on his own pants when he flew a dozen feet to crash into filthy cobblestone ground.
"Pull up your pants and run!" He shouted. He did not follow his own advice. Instead, he kept hurling various debris at the downed stallion trying his damnedest to keep him down till the colt, Bright Burst he finally remembered, got his shit together and ran.
He did indeed run, the opposite way past Mr. Cottonridge, and out into the street.
"Okay now I can get the fuc-" His head rang like a struck gong, and he found himself on the ground. Blinking sluggishly he struggled to his hooves or tried to. A pair of hands encircled his neck and he suddenly found his own magic being blocked.
"You little shit! You pathetic waste of life! Cripple!" Wheezed Cottonridge, his breath rank in his nose. The stallion's hands tightened noticeably and Orion began to struggle for breath. "You worthless pathetic little buck. Because of you, I've been reprimanded, by the Princess no less! My fellow alumni look at me with disdain! And now you ruin my playtime! You are gonna pay for this!” He hissed, spittle flying from his mouth and splattering against Orion’s face.
He tried to kick the bigger pony but found his legs bound much as Bright's had been. Punching was ineffective as well as the stallion had him pinned down and his little arms barely reached his biceps as it was.
Orion's vision swam with darkness. "I'm seriously gonna fucking die!" His mind screamed in panic as his limbs slowed in their struggle. Suddenly the hands around his neck seemed to lose all strength as a scream, sounding much like a filly, blasted into his ears. Sparks swam in his eyes as his lungs filled with air. He struggled to pull himself away from his attacker, gasping and retching almost at the same time.
He found himself still unable to stand.
"Well, that's not gonna work." His legs weren't cooperating but at least he had some distance away from the dirty bastard.
Looking back at said douche canoe he noticed him clutching between his legs, eyes bulging, staring at nothing. Behind him stood Bright Burst, panting hard, trembling like a leaf. He didn't need to be a rocket scientist to put two and two together, the colt had kicked his would-be murderer square in the jewels. Orion wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry.
What had he been thinking? Why didn't he just get someone to check for him?!
"Well what's done is done, now what do we do?" Bright looked nearly ready to bolt again, at the same time his legs looked ready to give out. Scratch that, he just landed on his rear. The colt wasn't going anywhere.
Cottonridge was trying to stand.
Grabbing a heavy piece of wood, Orion haphazardly jabbed him in the throat and then brought the whole of it down on his head as hard as he could. The choking sound abruptly stopped. The alleyway was silent except for the two panicked breaths of a pair of very worked-up colts.
Twilight had taught him a bit about the signals guard forces used in the field. Stuff her brother had talked to her about.
A red flare flew into the air with a surprisingly little amount of magic required, though he noticed with a frown it barely cleared the rooftops before exploding.
He sent up a dozen more.
"Why am I here again?"
He was in one of the many identical guard stations scattered throughout all three plates. This one was on the other side of the city from the orphanage, three blocks from the park itself.
Once the flares had gone off, it wasn't long before guards had descended on their location. It had been a whirlwind of activity, as they listened to Orion's brief statement, they slapped cuffs onto Cottonridge, Bright Burst was no help as he seemed catatonic and went where he was pushed with no struggle.
That was worrying.
After arriving at the garrison they were separated, and he was grilled for the next two hours by a mare with a jaw so large that it preceded her by three days. That was an exaggeration of course, but damn was it big.
After that, he was sat on a bench next to Bright and informed that they would be dispatching a guard to get Mrs. Evergarden.
He cringed at that. Orion had seen her face when he was hauled out the alleyway behind the colt he now sat next to, and pedo-douche extraordinaire. She looked frightened and angry and even more frightened in turn. He could only shrug his shoulders and mouth “sorry” at her as he was loaded into a carriage.
She was going to be madder than hell.
He sighed and leaned back, he just wanted to relax on his second to last Sunday. What the hell was he thinking?! Even the guards were mad at him, and he really couldn't blame them. This was an utterly retarded bonehead stunt he had done. But, he had managed to save someone, even if that someone then turned around and saved him.
"Thank you…."
The quiet tone would have gone nearly unheard had he not been sitting so close.
"Oh uh….you're welcome, I guess?" He was not prepared to deal with a trauma victim, his throat hurt like hell from being crushed and the better part of two hours of interrogation.
Bright Burst was in his Theory and Control class now that he remembered who he was. His grades had been flagging like Orion's, but before school let out he suddenly seemed to improve and was getting high marks. He suspected he knew why that was now.
"This has been going on for a while hasn't it?" He winced. "Way to hit the nail with the proverbial hammer ya jackass."
"Yes…" whispered back the demure colt. Oh boy, this kid was really fucked. But what could he expect? Happiness and sunshine? The world didn't work like that and this poor bastard was in for a long road to recovery.
"Oh Jesus, sorry man." Silence. Neither noticed the flash of light coming from deeper within the station.
"Mrs. Evergarden, please get your ass here soon." This was far too awkward for him. What was he to say? “There there? Chin up old chap?”
"My herd is gonna be so mad at me…." Tears dribbled from Burst's eyes. Orion’s own bulged in shock.
"The fuck? Why would they be pissed at you? If anything they should want to castrate that fucko with a blowtorch. He took advantage of his position and power and abused you. None of this is on you!" He clamped his teeth shut.
He had no idea why he was bothering. He wasn't a therapist. "Shut your mouth, you idiot. Just keep quiet and wait for Evergarden."
"My mothers were….upset about my grades, he….he..he said he could help me...if….", He lapsed into silence. The tears still coming in fat drops down his cheeks.
"Oh come on!" He needed to shut up, why wasn't he shutting up?! "The asshole likely made your grades look bad to soften you up. Use your parent's disappointment to break down your defenses. I have very little doubt that he didnt orchestrated a situation where you would be pliable to his disgusting desires and took advantage. You hold no fucking fault in that!"
"But…" the colt was looking at him now, tears glistening on his cheeks and a puzzled look on his face.
Orion tried to stop there, but his mouth was on a roll.
"If you seriously think your parents, your herd, is gonna judge you for something that you had no fucking control over and was most obviously the victim of, then you're being dramatic! Yes, you should have said something, but you were scared of upsetting them. Right?!" The colt gaped at him. "If your parents truly love you, and judging by all the things you gushed about during Hearth’s Warming, and what you guys do together, I'd say they do. They are not gonna be mad. Broken-hearted for sure because they are going to be blaming themselves for not seeing the signs, but not mad at you."
It was true, and it did make him a little jealous. It seemed every other weekend Bright Burst and his family were doing something together. His parents abandoned him to his grandparents, and they didn't do a whole lot when he was young. Instead, he learned to machine and survive in the woods.
They were always buying Bright new things for his locker, his satchel. He had even seen his dad give him a big hug one day when he was coming into school. This kid's family loved the hell out of him.
The brown colt was frowning now, staring at the floor.
"They cannot blame you for this. No one can. This….man this fucking sucks. You got put through something that should never happen to any foal, anyone at all." He shifted his eyes away from the Bright. "Listen, this is a moment in life that will define who you will be." He grinned and looked back at him. "Let me ask you something, how good did it feel to kick him so hard his testicles that they likely haven’t even descended yet?"
He wasn't sure if he was going to answer him. But then a smile grew on the brown pony's face. A small one but it was there, and rather wicked to boot.
"Really good. I...I was so scared, and when...when I turned and saw him on you...I don't know, something came over me. I had to do something. Kicking him seemed my only option." The smile grew into a grin. "He squealed like a foal!"
He laughed. Full-on laughter echoed into the empty station hallway.
Orion gave a grin of his own. "He's gonna be okay." The mirth on his face melted away.
"Just remember, you are going to have nightmares. You're gonna carry this for the rest of your life." He hated reminding him of what was likely to come, what he had seen on tv and in documentaries, but he wasn't about to let the kid deal with the shit without forewarning. "There are going to be therapists, let them help you, and remember you are not alone. You have friends. You have your family. They are all on your side and will be there to help you carry that burden, and remember how good it felt to kick that fucking asshole in the jewels. Remember what that felt like."
That got a smile and a nod from the colt, it was surprisingly firm. From brief, very brief, interactions in class, his fellow student was notorious for being soft and demure. The expression on his face now was hard. He wouldn’t be taking shit from anyone after this nightmare.
It was heartening to see.
Before either could say more, there were shouts and arguing coming from the front. The clatter of a bunch of hooves, then a flash. More shouts as something or someone thudded into the door.
"You have got to be kidding me…" It could only be the press. They must have gotten wind of the incident, and were now trying to force their way into the building.
He bit the inside of his cheek, a habit he had started to develop over the last few months when he worried over something. He had to get Bright out of here before they came and plastered his poor ass all over the papers.
"Fucking vultures!"
"Umm….Bright go find a closet to hide in!" He hissed at him. The colt just stared at him in confusion. "Don't look at me like an idiot! Get your ass in a closet now! These fuckers will ruin your life, now move!" He pushed him up and off the bench and practically hurled him down the hall. Finally the dumbass got the hint and booked it down the hall to a T and turned left.
Putting him out of his mind for the time being he started searching for something to bar the door with when said doors banged open and ponies of the press poured into the hall stumbling and falling over one another.
"Well shit."
Compromised mostly of mares, as seemed to be the norm, there was a surprising number of stallions in that jumbled lot. Picking themselves up off the floor several turned around, horns a light to shut and shore up the entrances as the rest turned and zeroed in on him.
"Aw, crap…." The sparkle in their eyes at spotting him spoke volumes about who they believed was the victim of this horrendous event.
The roar of dozens of voices washed over him, all asking questions and demanding answers.
Channeling a spell through his horn, he was going to have to buy Twilight something good for all those low-level spells she crammed into him, and he shouted.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Boomed across the mass of bodies pressing him for answers. The silence afterward was almost as deafening as his roar.
"No, I'm not the victim. Do I sound it to you?" He answered the last barely intelligible question he had heard before the buzz of words overlapped one another. "Nor will you be finding out today who that is."
Where were the fucking guards?
A mare with double chins, and the look of one that spent more time in front of the buffet instead of walking, used her bulk to push aside the others. Her chin wobbled as she began to yell at him, but he only had eyes for the buttons on her yellow blazer, they looked ready to kill as they strained under the pressure.
"Today a crime was committed! Against a foal! My readers have the right to know! You're just a colt! Who are you to bar us from finding the truth!" She bellowed and walked forward to pass him by.
Something snapped in Orion's mind. He forgot about the guard, his size, and even the fact that he didn't want to be there. This whore reminded him of every terrible thing that had happened to his grandparents when he had become national news. The ridicule, the accusations. The last he had heard before being sentenced was they couldn't even go into town anymore without angry stares and mutterings. They had become outcasts. It had been the last time they had spoken to him.
"Shut your fat fucking mouth lady!" He roared into her face. She recoiled as if slapped. “"Your readers have a right to know”," he mocked. "They have the right to know something terrible involving a foal and a sexual deviant happened today and that's it!"
Another mare spoke up as Miss Eats-For-Four rocked backwards under his onslaught in shock. This one had one of those press caps on. The straw-colored hat looked ridiculous.
"But shouldn't our readers know who perpetrated such a heinous crime!?" Many gave their own noises of agreement.
"No."
That just made the whole lot of them erupt. Orion crafted the spell from earlier and shouted over the top of them once more.
"SCREAMING AT A CHILD OF NINE ISN'T GOING TO GET YOU THE ANSWERS YOU WANT!"
In the back of his mind, a small, very small, part of him was pleading that he should shut the fuck up. Screaming that he had no business doing this!
But lizard brain was in control once again now.
"You want to know why you're not going to get anything today?" That got their attention even if their voices were still yelling, trying to be heard in the din. "Think of it from the victim's perspective, you jackasses! Their family is going to get harassed day and night by “inquiring ponies” with the need to know. That family is going to have to relive this event every single day of what happened. Of their failure to protect their baby, which is no fault of their own mind. Then afterward, folks around them will begin to treat them differently. They will have to put up with the knowledge everyone will know, and look at them with pity." He was breathing raggedly now, his throat that hurt before was now reminding him of the fact that fingers had been around them not too long ago, crushing the life out of him.
"Then there's the perp's family. Do you really think they know? Odds are they have no idea what's going on, but your reporting will make them pariahs and victims in their own right. No one will want to be around them, and they will not deserve that treatment because one of them hid a secret from them. They will suffer for your fifteen minutes of fame for having broken the story first just so you can feel adoration from your readers." The mocking tone returned to his voice toward the end.
Silence reigned. Taking advantage of the stunned stares, he picked up a fallen lampstand. The head had been shattered but the pole was still sturdy, and the broken end made for a good impromptu spear.
He squared his shoulders and stance, casting a baleful glare over them all as he held his makeshift weapon in both hands.
"And I promise you, you will pay for every step you make past me. You will leave them alone. YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?” He roared into their collective faces.
They gaped. In awe or fear, he really couldn't tell, all he knew was he was starting to see red. Suddenly, as one, they all dropped to their knees no longer looking at him. Keeping one eye on them, he shot a quick look over his shoulder. Suddenly that little voice in the back of his head had become very very loud.
Behind him stood the herald of the sun. Princess Celestia, glaring down upon them all.
At the sight of her, it had all come crashing down. His anger at the vultures looking to earn a quick buck vanished, and the realization of what exactly he had been doing, about to do, had hit home with all the force of a hurricane.
"The fuck is wrong with me?!" That question echoed in his head as every joint in his body locked up momentarily.
When she had heard what had happened in her city. Her Nation. It took everything in her power not to rush out of Day Court with little more than a fair thee well. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Truth be told it was not uncommon to see reports from the cities across her land speak of such vile atrocities. But to have it happen in her city, so close to her seat of power… Abominable.
She forced herself to stay. Partly as there was nothing she could do now. The aggressor was already in custody thankfully. So she stayed and dismissed the Court at the end of the session with as much pomp and circumstance as was allowed. She would not let ponies around her know what was going on before she had a chance to create her own narrative for this terrible event.
Her first instinct once she left the Hall, had been to teleport into the dungeon and flay the stallion alive! Use her magic to keep him alert and breathing for as long as possible as she cracked his bones and lit fire to his nerves, and made sure he felt everything! Everything .
It had taken her the better part of two hours before she reigned herself into some semblance of royal control.
Seeing Cottonridge bloody and beaten in the medical wing of the prison had surprised her. His head had been cracked open with blunt force. There were several gashes that had been stitched up, no healing spells would be administered until he awoke and the truth was rooted out. Another mystery had been his testicles, they had shown signs of recent blunt force trauma. They were the obvious signs of a beating, she had thought the city guard had taken personal umbrage with him, and she couldn't help but not be upset in the slightest about it.
She then almost burst into laughter when she found out that two colts had brought low this villain despite the knowledge that the pair had been victims of the stallion in one form or another, did nothing to sober her humor.
Leaving the wretch to his suffering she then found out where the pair were being held and who exactly they were as she had only found out that there had been an incident at all.
Orion's name stood out like a bonfire in darkness.
Celestia was surprised that he had been involved, but not what he had attempted to do. Despite his rough exterior, he was showing incredible signs of being a courageous stallion one day. This was just another example. The fact that not only had he saved Bright Burst from further abuse but managed to inflict the majority of the damage on the stallion actually made her somewhat proud, and concerned by that feeling as that had been a very dangerous undertaking for a colt of nine years old. For a male of any age to do.
Teleporting into a room that had been reserved for such spells she paused as she heard voices just down the hall from her door. Foal voices. One of which belonging to the very familiar vocals of a black colt with a fiery temper.
She listened to the exchange for longer than she would have normally.
The way Orion spoke to Bright, the inflection in his voice it sounded as if he knew exactly what the colt was going through. As if he had experienced it himself. Was there something she missed in the original reports of him? She would have to take a closer look at the records of his life prior to coming to Equestria.
As he pulled a laugh from the colt she smiled. It was good advice, though a little rough and most certainly not something she wanted to be taught, encouragement of that sort could lead to disaster.
The sounds of other voices drifted to her suddenly, silencing both ponies in the hall. She frowned. She knew who they were. The Press. Oh, how she loathed them. They could find the most minute wrinkle in an otherwise happy event and make it solely about the wrinkle. Once began it was difficult to steer back onto the original story with any real success.
They would surely ruin these foals' lives. She grabbed the door handle. That's when Orion acted in a way that had stilled her. The way he had behaved before, with her during her request, had given her the view that he would always look out for himself. Always with his best interest in mind over all others.
This. This was something vastly different. In a flash, he had Bright rushing past her door and down the hall into a closet.
When the mob of ponies breached the doors she could hear him bar their path. The courage!
But the following shouting match between him and the crowd of press ponies left her with that dark feeling she had before when they had begun their conversation about her student and his role in her life.
He spoke as if he knew them for what they were. Had experienced it no less. Even championing the victimhood of Mr. Cottonridge's family. It was a very valid point, they likely knew nothing of what had been going on.
Again that strange mix of pride and anger coursed through her. Pride over the young colt and his willingness to stand for what he saw was right. Anger that her ponies would not assert themselves as the adults they were and were instead choosing to bicker with him as if they all were foals in the play yard.
Not for the first time she had lamented the fact that the ponies of Equestria had proven to be increasingly soft. It galled her no end the complaintive attitudes the descendants of a once mighty and courageous people held. Instead of action, they were prone to whining about anything and everything.
Celestia suspected it was her fault they were like this, and she saw no current path to repair it.
Her momentary lapse into thought came to a screeching halt when she noticed that Orion had quite succinctly declared that he would start hurting ponies that tried to get by him.
She fairly rushed out of the room just barely keeping her face a frozen mask of anger and not of alarm. Of course, he was the last to notice her. Shock registered on his face, then anger, finally it resolved into a frown so deep she thought his face would really stay like that.
Tossing the temporary weapon to the side he marched past her to sit on the bench in silence. She only caught one sentence from him, barely above a whisper.
"I'm a fuckin' moron…."
She frowned at that and turned to disband the press from the premises.
"I will need to get him tested," she resolved. His mannerisms were far too strange for her to ignore any longer.
"Well, that was a complete bust." Grumbled an older stallion, Sun Herald. The slightly pudgy stallion stomped away with the rest of his fellow members of the press from the front of the station.
Many voiced their agreements. Nothing would be going into their papers tomorrow. The Princess had ordered it, and nopony wanted to cost their position in the industry by trying to go against her orders.
"The way that rapscallion spoke to me! To think there is a foal, a colt, out in the world with a mouth like that!" Howled Fair Print.
The portly mare from Sun Times did as she always did, forcing herself to the forefront of the group.
"The nerve of him! Telling us what to do. His herd should get a sternly written letter. I might even consider placing charges against him. Ponies like him should learn there are consequences to threatening others!"
Not many were in agreement with that last bit, though a few made mention that it was odd for a colt his age to be so fierce. It was left unspoken that every stallion known was notorious for a lack of overall aggression.
Oh there were cases. Many in the crowd of press that drifted toward the center of the city had reported on those strange incidents when they had occurred, but those reports were normally written about the effect after the cause.
Some stallions had lost their wits at the loss of a foal or a partner in their herd. It was quite understandable.
But this unknown black colt had been quite literally both. Right from the moment they first managed to enter that hall that little pony had become the wall that halted their progress.
Petal Grace had paid attention to it all. Being a junior member of the journalistic elite, she had been regulated to listening rather than being allowed to ask her own questions. But it did afford her something either many never learned or remembered, she listened.
And as she often found, she learned far more than what was openly said.
"Did anypony find it odd the way he spoke?" Head down and flipping through her notepad, she was slow to realize that she was now the center of attention.
Sun looked at her with a skeptical eye. "What do you mean, Rook?"
She blinked in surprise and coughed into her palm.
"Sorry, I mean his speech. Did none of you find it odd?"
It had been the very first thing she noticed the moment he opened his mouth. The word “fuck” was not a word many ponies used. She had thought she had misheard till he said it again in variation.
This colt barely sounded like a Canterlonian. She detected a little bit of Manehattan in there, but what stood out and barely tickled her memory was Marussian. The foal was a foreigner.
"I know he was rude! Is what he is!" Interrupted Fair. She was still seething, anger increasing once attention had been pulled from her. Once it seemed all eyes were on her again she went into a tirade about the consequences that colt would have once she got back to the office.
Petal tuned her out. At first, annoyed at the mare's constant need for attention and self bravado, she began to believe it a blessing.
In her mind, she could see an opinion piece forming. One that would address them, the journalists, and the way they conducted their investigations and questionings.
A niggling thought came with it. Who was the flame-maned colt that so bravely stood against more than a dozen adult ponies, and where did he come from?
As she continued to ignore the hefty mare's increasingly abhorrent ideas of punishment, Petal Grace began to write down everything she remembered of the little pony. She would figure out where he came from. Who his herd is.
The King of Griffonia was, and was not, what he had expected.
When Orion first entered the mostly lit room, he noted with surprise just how cluttered the chamber was. Every inch of the walls was covered in maps and shelves stuffed full of various items ranging from knick-knacks to important-looking files. Where there were no adornments covering the stone, bookshelves, and cabinets in many styles stood in place. The former having more than one book missing.
Even the floor space had several small tables piled high with documents. Books were being used as paperweights to hold down ledgers and loose papers.
This was the office of a harried griffon.
There was a large bay window, the sun from the west pouring in as the day had begun to come to a close.
All but two pieces of furniture seemed to come from different craftsgriffon, those two were made from a wood so dark as to be almost black in appearance. If not for the oil lamp on the table, it would have appeared to be the case. Not only was the wood darker in hue than everything else, but both were so gothic in design as to be depressing to look at.
Like every other flat surface in the room, the desk had stacks of files and paperwork on top, with a small space left open for someone to sit down and write.
"Jesus, I wonder if this guy even has a chance to sleep."
As he continued to take in his surroundings, that same deep voice that bade them enter, spoke from a corner in the room.
"Good evening, Orion Falls. Getting a good look for your Princess?"
Orion's eyes locked immediately onto the griffon who had stood purposely in the darkest corner of the room. He knew he was there, thanks to the radar , but didn't want to ruin the old bird's fun by pointing it out too soon.
Not to mention raising his suspicions about himself more than they already were if Gilda was any indication of his standing with the bird-cat.
"Had to look at something while you stood in the corner like an edgelord." He retorted, which got a hiss of annoyance from the guard behind him, and his own mind telling him to shut the hell up.
The King just cocked his head, the darkness hiding his expression.
"You may leave us, Stoick. I would speak to Mr. Falls, alone." His voice was soft for the depth of it. But those golden eyes were as hard as Forager's anvil and carried the weight his station had given him.
"But, sire-"
"I will be fine. This colt is no assassin sent to murder me, even that Princess is not so cruel as to use a fledgling as an instrument of death. You are dismissed."
With grumbling, the guard Stoick saw his way out. The King chuckled with amusement.
"Considering your sudden arrival, and…tensions within my court, I can't fault him for his concern." Moving from the shadows, Orion was surprised by how short he actually was, coming only up to his throat.
Was he destined to be a giant amongst all but the lone Alicorn? Because at the rate he was growing, he would soon stand tall over earth ponies as well.
"No need to mention that to me." He muttered. He hadn't even had a chance to form a plan on how to deal with the monarch on his way to the griffon’s private study. "Let him talk, and listen. Don't open your dumbass mouth too often." He chastised himself. If he kept a level head and paid attention, he should be okay. Hopefully.
The griffon paused and nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you are right about that. I'm sure your Princess may want to know anyhow."
He ground his teeth. Why in the hell did he keep making inferences about his relationship with Celestia? What was the point?
"If you think I'm some type of royal half-assed spy, you should be sending me right on back. Not let me put up my books and clothes, which are no doubt being searched right now." He said in a calmer tone than he felt.
"They are," Bloodbeak said brightly, a small smile bending his beak. He now stood in the failing sunlight of the western sun, seeming to look for something.
While he didn’t have a height advantage on the pony, the old bird was built much wider than he. The griffon king resembled a golden eagle dressed in a black doublet and pants much as Eberhard's had been. The difference here was it was much more ornate, with gold stitching tracing heartleaves up and down his sleeves. The edges were also trimmed in gold.
It was clean and pressed, but frayed ends here and there spoke to the fact that it had seen better days, suffering a life of long use under the King’s service.
The man himself was built like a brick wall, blunt face, the scars decorating his left cheek he could see barely visible in the soft downy feathers there, made him all the more intimidating.
It was clear that this was not a ruler to stand idly by. It would be important to note that he was very likely not some foppish royal stuck up their own ass.
"Well, you called me here. What would you like to discuss?" He kept reminding himself to keep it civil. Too bad he couldn't make a loop in his head to keep saying it, but that may just drive him mad.
Instead of answering, King Fairheart merely nodded and turned to walk into one of the cluttered tables and opened a tome.
Orion blinked in surprise, there was an abnormal amount of gray streaking his beak that he hadn't seen when the griffon had been looking dead at him.
"I was led to believe you knew how to greet royalty, Mr. Falls." He flipped a page with a single claw.
"I do, much as I dislike doing so. But you didn't call me into a hall for receiving. Nor is there anyone else here but us." He cocked an eyebrow. "That says to me you don't care for it, or are too busy for the pleasantries. Otherwise, you would have made the demand the moment I entered."
The smile returned. "I suppose that is true. But does the Princess allow you to do that?"
Orion was getting real tired of Celestia's continued name-drop. "He's trying to put you off. Think!" He wasn't sure how to answer that and knew he didn't have a lot of time to consider a response.
"Honestly, she's often…" he smirked, "she's often way too busy yelling at me for some such dumbass thing I've done." He allowed the smirk to turn into a grin. "There is the threat of tossing me into a dungeon. Hell, one time I even asked for that option, she denied me."
For the first time since meeting the ruler of Griffonia, he got a look of surprise. "I…see." He turned back to the book and flipped to another page. From Orion's angle, he couldn't tell what it said but had a sneaky suspicion that it was about him.
"My niece had told me you were taller than her back when she still lived among you ponies. She had not mentioned that you had grown to dwarf many of your own kind. Unicorns are not typically large people."
"I'm sorry I neglected to give her my measurements in each letter we exchanged." He snarked back, then bit his tongue in vexation. He was supposed to keep his cool. What is wrong with him?
"It's fine. Still, nineteen and a quarter claw tall is impressive for your race." He paused, giving him a look. "Earth ponies do get taller. Perhaps you have earth pony blood within you?"
"That would be a question you would have to direct toward the folks who took my blood samples." He replied simply. Meanwhile, his mind raced with questions of his own. Chief amongst those was why he was here.
The griffon King's smile grew. "I have, in a way. It is remarkable to find that the reports only speak of two strains. One is the unicorn you appear to be, the other, however, is a complete mystery. No one knows what the other half of you actually is." He chuckled. "So, I suppose my question about your heritage is moot at this point. By all accounts not even you know." That last was just the hint of an inquiry.
Orion's blood chilled. How did he possibly know all of that?! How had he gotten his grubby claws on any of that information? Worse yet, how much did he know about him?
Spies of course. Very good spies if they managed to infiltrate Canterlot itself.
When he didn't say anything, the monarch nodded and continued. "It's said you eat meat. That you actually require it to maintain a healthy life. Is this true?"
He bit the inside of his cheek before answering. It was not secret at this point, so why was he so hesitant to answer the monarch?
"Yeah. I get by on fish, and the occasional shrimp dish when it's available. But that's it." Seemed a harmless question. But he was unsure of himself with the griffon. He was not hot-headed like many of his species Orion had encountered. Cool, and calculated, his questions and statements were probing for something.
"May I see them?"
"Huh?"
"Your teeth, Mr. Falls."
"Oh uh…yeah, sure. Why not." He stepped forward and opened his mouth. He didn't even see it coming. Like a coiled snake, King Fairheart's claw shot out and gripped his jaw, twisting his head for a better angle.
Orion's horn blazed to life just before the griffon reached him, and several objects of sharpness rose to hover around the monarch.
"It appears to be true." He commented almost dryly as if the sword from the wall behind him was not hovering over his neck dangerously close. "You would strike a king?"
He simply glared at him, not trusting himself with an attempt to answer with the claws buried into his fur as they were. His grip was strong.
"Fair enough." The King said simply, letting him go, and turning back to the book before him as if nothing happened.
He worked his jaw as the weapons he had snatched up slid back into their places.
Orion was loathed to admit it, but he was now terrified. It wasn't his actions, but rather the reasoning behind them. He knew that anything the griffon did would be met only with a threat, and nothing else. Not to mention he had finally managed to goad a real reaction out of him, and his mouth decided it was time to attack.
"You sneaky sonavab-"
"I have heard rumors of you." He interrupted him. "Rumors that I have looked into." He fixed him with a golden eye. "The meat-eating rumor I did not quite believe at first." He chuckled.
He did not trust himself to speak, his traitorous tongue wanted to curse him, and his body wanted to jump the bird and beat him senseless. But something, a small and quiet voice, told him it wouldn't be the guards he would have to fend off.
"How in the fuck is he so fast?!"
"You were discovered in Stalliongrad. No history. No family to discover." He flipped a page and drew a single claw to a passage in the book. "The pony agency, Wings For Foals, found you in a dead-end alley eating a raw rat." He cocked an eyebrow.
"I hadn't eaten in nearly a week," Orion spoke through clenched teeth.
"That would make one desperate." He nodded and flipped to another page. "Once your rescue was completed, you were sent to Manehattan in Equestria. To the orphanage there, Manehattan's Home for Wayward Foals." He eyed him again. "There you got into more than a few altercations with fledglings your own age, and one teacher. The last point of conflict resulted in the hospitalization of two colts and bed rest for a third. Unusual for a colt to be so aggressive, but given your already tumultuous history, it's not unexpected I suppose."
He knew. The sonvabitch knew what had almost happened to him in that city. The details had been obscured by the WFF at the behest of the local government. Even Celestia hadn't gotten much more than that. Except, now he was wondering if she did. If so, how much did she know? And how much did this puffed-up ball of feathers know on his own?
"Another thing I have noted. Despite your history, you had impeccable grade scores in class despite your original troubles at adjusting to the curriculum." He flipped a page. "Even going beyond some of the knowledge your instructors held." His head turned and gave him an appraising look, nodded, and flipped another page as he looked back down at what was essentially an abridged version of his life. "After your final conflict, you were moved in the dead of night to Canterlot. Records are spotty on how, but it is believed you went by carriage."
King Sigurd Bloodbeak Fairheart was easily becoming far more terrifying than Celestia ever could be. Even with her ability to reduce a given area to ash, at least she was warm and friendly for the most part. This King's statements were not. They were threats, each and every single one thus far being spoken without his rebuttal. They screamed: "I know all about you. Everything that you've ever done, ever said. All of it. I know who you are."
His throat was too dry to speak, his back awash with sweat.
Bloodbeak's eyes seemed to dissect him where he stood as he went on.
"In Canterlot, you continued to outperform your age group. In all but magic, it seems. There it was discovered how much of a handicap you had. It was recorded in logs that you might have some type of thaumic gland problem. If not for the fact that you were in an orphanage under the Throne’s purview you would have likely been removed for lack of talent." He smirked. "A few years later, you proved that action would have been an egregious mistake as you suddenly shot to the class." He flipped a page. "Your first encounter with Princess Celestia was a class trip, in which you were pulled aside for an unknown subject. However, we have been able to infer that it was in the efforts of becoming friends with her student." He chortled. "Her ineptitude to form bonds is quite amusing I have never seen an individual like her."
"She doesn't trust people. Shut your mouth about shit you can only speculate on." The surprised look he received from the monarch said he had not spoken that in his head. He firmed his expression of anger.
"I will take that…under advisement. Pleasant to see you have loyalty." King Bloodbeak said dryly before focusing back on the retelling of his life. "As it is, over the years, you have had a few interactions with the monarch. One that involved receiving punishment."
"Blueballs and his brat had it coming." He defended before the griffon could go on.
A full smile blossomed on the monarch's face. "In this, I agree with you wholeheartedly. Blueblood's prodding of his colt into attacking you at school over your needs was far out of line." He laughed. "I cannot tell you how many of us here got a flap out of that incident."
Well, at least there was one point in his favor.
Settling himself, the older griffon went on.
"The punishment you received was the best outcome for you considering who you struck. Being assaulted you were entirely justified in your defense, but that did not mean you could not have suffered unfair treatment. Managing to get that…Princess to admit she might be wrong was something I had never heard of in all my years. The mare is never wrong. Almost." He smirked and flipped a page. “I hear that the meeting was rather hot, regardless of who was correct.”
"Your assignment in Ponyville was an interesting choice, but what was far more interesting was what happened down there. Actually two things." He turned from the book fully and looked at him again, from head to hoof. "Yes, I can see how you just might be able to kill a Timberwolf. An impressive feat for your age, and more so on your own, but perhaps that explosive rise to power was what even the edge."
"You said two things." His voice cracked alarmingly. His throat was dry, dry.
"I did." His smile morphed into a grin. Griffons had weird little teeth that were actually a part of the bill itself. His grin was a terrifying visage. "Your advanced understanding of science is rather surprising considering ponies are known for relying on magic alone."
"Okay, bullshit. How in the hell do you know about that?!" He growled, taking a step toward the griffon.
"My country has its ways of finding out information that the Princess sorely wishes hers did." And he simply left it at that.
"Let's cut this short shall we?!" Orion spat. "After Ponyville I returned to the capital and resumed my classes. Got into a little issue when trying to send a letter to your niece, and then decided to come here for the summer. Are we done with the tale of my life?!"
"Ah, yes. I suppose we are.” He somehow seemed to be the more put-out one. “However, I shall ask. Your first letter this year, spoke as if you would not be able to come. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Look into a crystal ball for a reason. I just knew I was going to be exceedingly bored this summer. So I figured why not make the best of it."
"So you are using my niece for your own entertainment then?" His face darkened.
"Fuck. No. She's my friend, and believe it or not, I actually felt bad about putting her off every year. Not that I was likely to get permission to come considering how old I am, but that didn’t make me feel any better having to tell her no." He clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes bulging as he realized he had just admitted to leaving the city without permission.
"You are not supposed to be up here, are you?" The monarch's head cocked to one side, amusement on his face.
Orion took a deep breath, then sighed heavily. "No…I left a note. But I left before Mrs. Evergarden woke up." The way this griffon had dug through his life, it was no doubt he would know that bit soon enough.
"Do you believe that was wise?"
"Better to do, and ask for forgiveness, than ask, and not be able to do at all." He mumbled back sullenly.
The King nodded with a smile returning to his beak. "I suppose that is very true." He closed the book with a snap. "Now," he said cheerily, "what are your intentions for my niece?"
The tone, manner, and posture came out of left field and smacked him in the brain.
"Huh?"
"Do not "huh" me young drake. What are your intentions for my niece?" He said a little more forcefully.
"Intentions…with…" He said slowly before a ding in his head went off with almost a physical peal. The monarch’s cheery turn of disposition was fake as hell. If he wasn’t planning on threatening to kill him before, he was now. Orion was on eggshells. "Now he wants to play daddy." He groaned inwardly.
"Sir,” The man turned pony said with all the solemnity he could muster, “my intention with Screaming is just to hang out. I haven't seen her in years and I miss having her around."
"You do not seek a marriage?" The colt could only blink owlishly, more than a little fright in his eyes. "I see, perhaps not. Given that you had no idea she was my niece I suppose you had made no plans for a proposal. Though you are a pony." He mused, tapping his bill with a claw. "Are you waiting for her to make the proposal instead?"
"No!" He fairly shouted. What was going on here? "We are just friends!"
"Hmm." Was all the King said, and Orion's blood ran cold.
The "hmm" implied that Screaming might not feel the same way as he does. "Oh shit, please don't tell me…."
"Listen, I don't want to marry anyone. Okay? No one." He paused. That was too hasty a statement. Eventually, he may want to settle down with someone at some point, just not in at least the next ten years. "At least not right away. The world is crazy huge and I wanna see it. So no wedding bells for me thank you."
King Fairheart nodded thoughtfully. "I can accept that. So how long will you be remaining within my borders?"
"Couple of months, maybe to the end of summer. If you're worried about paying for me, I have my own coin to handle any purchases I make."
The griffon nodded.
"Excellent." He tapped a claw to the bottom of his beak again. Was that a cultural thing? He had seen a few do that. "Considering your studious nature, I can assume you wish to have access to the library here in the castle?"
Orion hadn't thought of that. Access to the local records might throw up an idea of what he could do with all the notes and ideas he had brought with him. Trying to go directly through the King was likely a mistake that would land him somewhere unpleasant.
Perhaps he could fund small groups of settlers to go out and begin recovering lost settlements out in the wilds. It seemed to work for Freidrich and his fellow refugees.
"Yeah, I'd think I would like that. Is Gilda going to be my shadow for the entire time?" The question was more a prod of his own. To show he wasn't blind at the very least.
"No." King Fairheart spoke evenly. "She is my niece's personal guard after all."
He should have expected that. The bird was unflappable.
"Anything else, your Highness?" He glanced around the room again. Now noticing a fair few ledgers with a lot of red in them open on a few tables. "Yikes! Just how bad off are they? That’s a lot of numbers in the negative."
"At this time, no. Stay out of trouble, respect the laws of my land, and more importantly," he leaned forward menacingly, "treat my niece with the care she deserves."
"You got it, boss. Later." Orion gave a half-assed salute as he headed for the door quickly. He was done being the King of Griffonia’s punching bag.
"No bow?" Came an amused reply.
"You asking?" He cocked an eyebrow, hand on the nob.
All he got was a snort of amusement in response. So the black colt shrugged and opened the door and left.
Sigurd couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled with him once he was certain Orion Falls had put enough distance between himself and the old griffon’s study. The temerity of that drake was incredible.
"How had the ponies produced someone like him?" He said into the stillness of his study, odd that he would repeat his Listener’s words.
"What was that, sire?" Came Eberhard's question from behind a false bookshelf.
The bookshelf had a small alcove behind it with a single chair. The alcove and the back of the shelf were constructed with nullstone. Preventing any magic from being cast to detect something unusual. Such as a life presence spell. The construction of that little addition had nearly bankrupted his father, but it was a wise precaution in his opinion.
The idea was to keep Celestia, or one of her stooges, from simply killing a royal without notice. There was always a guard stationed within, though never officially recorded in any roster so that any murder that may happen will still be exposed by a witness.
Today, as a last-minute thought, he had his Listener stashed away to observe instead of a less discerning guard. To glean what they could from his meeting with the rather angsty pony.
"Apologies Eber, I was simply remarking on our new friend's boldness." He replied as he watched his friend push aside the bookcase.
"Ah, yes. I am quite surprised you treated him so well. Considering what nearly happened."
Sigurd could only grin. He had needed to get the measure of the pony that his niece found so appealing. Though he hadn't quite expected such a violent reaction to his provocation. Rather than pull away and risk being clawed, he had summoned various sharp implements to serve as weapons, and even the monarch’s own sword, poised to strike him down.
The King would have let go the moment he felt him pull away, of course. But Orion had not known of that.
"You gamble too much, my King. That was reckless." Eberhard kindly admonished
"It was. Had that pony really been what the Eyes and Ears had originally thought, I would be a dead griffon." They both chuckled.
Eyes and Ears were to infiltrate and observe. They were not trained to make conjectures only to act, yet that hadn't stopped the small spy community from making guesses based on what they had gathered. Orion had proven far more aggressive than anyone could have suspected, yet he had maintained control of himself.
The Listeners, their overseers, and planners had been more tempered in their examinations of the reports.
On the face of it, Orion Falls was a hooligan by most accounts. Until you peeked a little deeper. If anyone did they would find a complex, and often contradictory, creature that would leap head-first into danger.
"Still, he isn't here for a vacation whatever he says, your Highness." Sigurd nodded. It was clear he wanted something from Griffonia. The what would be impossible to pin down at this point in time. Only careful observation would reveal his end goal.
"Was there anything of interest in his bags?" He asked.
"Oh, yes. I believe the item of most import, however, is that bag he carried in here with him. I do believe I can make an accurate guess in the direction his path will take despite our inability to see what he carries." His grin matched his King's earlier look.
"Oh, well, out with it, my old friend. What secrets does he bear?"
"Patience, your Highness." He sat himself down across from him and adjusted the clothes on his person. Likely adjusting the various knives the old bird carried about him.
"Now, the first thing discovered was nearly nine thousand bits in various bags hidden inside pockets sown into his rucksacks that he brought with him. Cleverly too might I add. We almost didn't see them at first."
Sigurd blinked, eyes widening. "The drake had said he had his own coin…but that much?"
"What we found next, makes this all the more interesting, my Lord. It also explains a report I've received just before you called me in to listen. I will get to that in a moment." He pulled a sheet of rolled paper from his sleeve and unrolled it. "There were books, some he had already shelved, but the ones still in his bags were far more telling. Tomes on agriculture, a note on how to set up a forge, and long-term storage of goods. All without magical support."
The King's eyes narrowed. "Anything on steel?"
They had long come to rely on Equestrian steel to arm their forces and supply their dwindling farming communities with equipment to till their soil. Every year those fees for shipping and even manufacturing seemed to grow. Draining his nation's already stressed coffers further.
It had not always been like this. In the distant past, griffons had their own steel. Griffonian steel was known far and wide as the benchmark for quality and quantity. But then, disaster. It was during the time in which his ancestor, King Oskar Bloodbeak, ruled. In the span of ten years, Smiths around the nation met with fatal accidents or disappeared entirely. Their notes were either missing or burned, by what appeared to be accidents in their own shops. Even the archives of the various manors of lords and ladies of the land had not escaped the purge of information. By the time those terrifying years ended, the knowledge of their forging of steel had been lost amongst other important information. As if wiped from their minds entirely.
King Oskar had only one nation in mind to blame, only one nation to truly gain from their crippled production. So he had attacked Equestria. It was a rash decision made in the heat of the moment. That would prove to be his downfall.
The city of Manehattan, which had become a bustling seaside port, was the easiest target as it was exposed and open to aerial attack. But something odd happened the morning of the assault.
The ponies, more accurately to say Celestia, deny it to this day, but a wave of golden light washed over the city just as their forces charged. Many died, but the events of that month were seared into the minds and hearts of a generation. Too many eyewitness reports confirm it so.
In his last act as king, Oskar had seceded land to shelter and protect the hippogriffs born nearly a year later. Caretakers from both nations, and a surprisingly large number of the victims, volunteered to assist with the raising of an entirely new species. During that time other pairings that had produced chicks of similar birth, if not the reason behind it, had moved into the small territory to expand the populace.
A little over a hundred years later, Equestria was producing steel of a similar quality that griffons once manufactured. Oskar's suspicions had been dead on, no matter that no one was capable of producing proof.
"A brief look through that book only showed one reference to steel itself." He looked at the paper and squinted. "Carbon Steel. It was written within the open portions of the pages having to do with heating techniques."
Sigurd's grip on his armrests tightened. "Nine thousand in bits, books on manufacturing and agriculture. He is not here for a vacation. The question is, what is he here for exactly?" He was half tempted to call Orion back. If that pony truly knew how to forge steel, he should be grilled thoroughly to root it out and damn the consequences.
"As you know, I am a Discerner as well as a Listener, sire. And I believe I might have a clue as to what he is planning." The King gestured for the old spy to continue. "The trip up from Equestria produced an unusual reaction from him. First, he settled in the carts that carried the refugees. With Equestrian trains, there is always a rail cart reserved for ponies. He ignored that and stayed amongst our poor."
"That is unusual behavior, but remember who we speak of." He responded thoughtfully. Eberhard merely nodded. It was likely out of conserving his finances as well as avoiding the eyes of the train conductors and his fellow Equestrians.
"We have taken that into account, my Lord. But that is not a truly unexpected event. My friend, halfway through his journey, the train stopped off at Bixby. There, he departed briefly to completely buy out a store shop of all its stored goods. Including fish and bread, as well as bags to carry what was left over. He fed the entire train, sire." He finished, Sigurd's eyelids were growing tired of the exercise he was putting them through.
For a long moment, neither griffon spoke, the sun slowly replaced by the lit candles and oil lamps already aflame in his study.
"What do you suspect, Eber?" The King spoke softly.
"I suspect…what may have already begun if on a smaller scale than he intends. After the train arrived, the families he had fed banded together and moved everyone outside of the city. On their way, they purchased several farming and fishing equipment. Netting as well. Our Ears have overheard plans of moving to a smaller settlement that had been abandoned for some time in the Great Blood Forest, northeast of here. The truly surprising revelation is that it is all Orion Falls' idea. Or at least his strong suggestion."
"You…suspect he is here to…what? Act as a charity to our people?" The thought was ridiculous. The idea that the colt had come all the way there to feed his people was not a believable tale he was ready to accept.
"Actually, I think it's more than that, sire. I believe he is here to give back a measure of our dignity." He held up his hands at the angered look from his King. "From what few interviews that were given, Orion had advised those people with not only a suggestion for leaving the city shortly after arrival, but also with notes on how to fish, farm, and store all the goods needed. As well as what resources to look for once they arrived out there."
"He's trying to teach us?!" Sigurd could no longer sit still, so he launched himself to his paws and had begun pacing in front of the bay window of his study.
"I believe so, your Highness. I don't believe he is trying to insult us by doing so. But let us also remember his recent past. That colt, no, as you say, drake, leaped into the fray to save a family's puppy. He acted with all risk and no reward. Even tonight, when you mocked his friend, he stood up for her. That is an important aspect of his character, I think.”
"My only concern is why? What is driving him?" His friend could only shake his head. "There is a reason for this, though it remains hidden within his own mind."
"So what are his next steps? What will he attempt to do?"
Eberhard paused and tapped his beak.
"At the moment, it is difficult to say. But I have a suggestion." He looked hopefully at his liege.
"Speak."
"The offer of your palace library is a wise one. Might I also suggest making available to him the survey reports?"
"Why would I allow that? How would you plan to implement that?"
Survey reports were always turned in to the Crown first. Anyone who might have hired a survey crew was dealing with the King's government directly, so all the information about certain sites went to his clerks first to make copies of, copies they kept in their own private archives.
"To answer the second first, we can use old survey maps dating back ten or twenty years. Place them in the regular map section and covertly keep anyone from entering that is either not librarian staff or in the know. As to why…sire, this pony is looking for something. And that report of those refugees makes me believe it is resources. Particularly profitable ones."
Sigurd continued his pacing. It was a solid idea, and with the records being that aged, there would be little blowback from staff who may object upon finding those maps missing. Yet, there was so much risk. What if Eberhard is wrong, and he is here to exploit the nation for his own gain?
An idea struck him.
"One addendum." Looking up he saw he had Eberhard's full attention. "Make yourself available to him. I want to direct this as much as possible. If you were to provide reasonable guidance we will know what he plans before he does it." With this, they could discover if he was less than his actions made him appear to be.
"It will be as you say, sire."
"Am I interrupting you fledglings?" A melodious voice spoke from the entrance. Sigurd smiled as he turned to the beauty that stepped into his study without a sound.
"No, my Heart. In fact, I believe there is not much else to plan at this moment." He nodded to the Listener. "Eberhard I fear will be busy."
Gabriele Fairheart entered the room with a graceful sway. She had chosen her ornate dress to be red this day, in support of their niece's already doomed efforts. Her blue-green eyes sparkled mischievously at the pair, as his friend rose to take his leave.
"Is that so? What, pray tell, are we to be busy about, my good Discerner?" She was not on the most agreeable ground with her spymaster. While Eberhard Lonelycall was his friend, he technically worked for his wife, the Queen. She did not like when either griffon circumvented her authority in any way.
It had been a long and rocky road for all three to work together smoothly. If with a few feathers ruffled here and there.
"Your Grace, I shall leave the King to tell you, and wait till you send your approval." His friend said smoothly, slipping by her yet staying well out of reach. Instead of glaring at him, she turned her disapproving attention on Sigurd.
The griffon couldn't help but grimace.
"Thank you, oh loyal drake for leaving me out to bake." He snarked within his own head.
Out loud he spoke calmly, "It is with regards to our new guest, my Fire."
Smoothing her feathers would have to start now before even getting to their plans. After all, he married into her family. With his own bloodline's fading fortunes, having to sell a good chunk of their land and resources to keep control, his father had decided to arrange a marriage with the Fairhearts. Powerful, and only two generations old, they hailed from one of the southern lands somewhere inside the Dark Continent. Rumors abound that their wealth came from piracy.
A rumor she had been rather coy with till their wedding night.
It was shocking to discover, as they lay tangled in the sheets of their consummation, that her family, the Fairhearts, were information brokers. They were almost like pirates in the way they stole secret documents, business shipping registries, and even military movements that could be discovered by them. Selling them to the highest bidder was so lucrative that their value expanded exponentially.
That night secrets of her family line came forth in a flood, including the fact that somewhere in her bloodline there was an ancestor who had been a Paroton. It did explain the bright blue-green eyes and thicker beak.
Along with the confession of once having connections of a criminal enterprise merely put away two generations ago, was a spy network still in her employ. A spy network that had been adapted to work for the Griffonian people over the recent years. A spy network, whose stolen information had finally begun to turn the winds of his nation's failing economy.
If Sigurd's house had ever been manipulated into the marriage, Gabriele never said. But there was true love in their hearts for one another despite the arrangement.
His bride settled her rump into his lap very quickly.
"Speak, my Kindling. Does my niece have a chance with that dashing-looking colt?"
"Your niece?" He chortled. He ignored the fact that his wife had goaded him by mentioning how attractive she found their pony guest.
"Hush, dear. She comes to me far more than she comes to you." She poked his beak.
"Yours by marriage, my Heart. I believe I'm entitled to keep what I have learned this evening to myself." He smirked openly with a side-eye.
He nearly winced as she suddenly grabbed a tuft of the top feathers on his head and turned him to face her. His smirk turned into a grin. It was a game that often turned into her getting aggressive if she felt denied of what was by rights hers. And in her eyes, information was always hers. But oh, how he loved to tease her.
Gabriele surprised him when she bit at his neck tenderly. If she was this feisty, the night just may end on an updraft. "We both know she loves me more than you, my Love. I am the one that found her after all." She laid the side of her beak against his in an intimate gesture.
It was a fair point. While it may have been his financial backing, such as it was, it was her network that had pieced together where she had been taken.
He grimaced.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news on that front…" He began. It was sad to cut their game so short, but unfortunate tidings did not age well.
"That…that…scoundrel!" She thumped Sigurd on his chest with a fist. The blow was weak, and the pain he felt was more for his bride being upset than any injury that may have been done to him. He could understand her anger, her great disappointment. However, she was wrong.
Gabriele had sat still, merely listening, as he recounted his encounter with the enigmatic pony. Her countenance darkened when he got to the portion of the interview in which Orion denied interest in Grace romantically.
Now the hen was in one of her tempers, losing her composer completely.
It was strange to Sigurd that she could be so articulate, so centered, then one thing might go astray and she would lose the ability to coordinate her thoughts. Such was the case with the gardener. Poor griffon. It was a very short-lived temper tantrum, however, for he had found that his bride seemed to pull herself together quickly after one of her flare-ups.
"Now, now, my Fire." He patted her legs soothingly. "He never made claims to be enamored with Grace. Even his letters were rather tame for someone who might be a lover. You even said so yourself that it was odd that he never spoke of sweet nothings."
"I-I...I did, but to play-" He raised a single digit and she relented. "I know. It's just…I had hope for her." She gestured at her dress in despair.
The Language of Colors was an old, ingrained custom that had existed as long as the griffon people. Unlike their more colorful cousins, the Parotons, their fur, and feathers were found to be much more subdued and neutral in color. So when a griffon did put in the effort to stain feathers or wear a particularly vibrant set of clothing, it was a message of their intentions.
Orange for a successful hunt, blue for a good negotiation. Colors were a talisman that had stuck with his race for thousands of years.
Red was the color of romance and love. With a particular cut of cloth, such as a dress like the one his wife wore, the message was clear.
Orion, however, was not a griffon. His people were bright and colorful things save for few exceptions such as himself. He did not know the Language of Colors. Something Gabriele should have known. But she had been hoping and excited at the prospect. That excitement seemed to have blinded her to certain cultural differences.
Sigurd had to admit he had been hoping as well, though guiltily for a far more utilitarian reason. It was true, he wanted Grace to find love and happiness. If anyone deserved it, it was her.
But the King of the griffons was far more interested in the product of that union. A way to tie the Neighbonese back to his kingdom once again would bolster their standing in the world. Marrying off a son or daughter, whichever was born first, would bind their people together without any messy complications or heavy political maneuverings. Opening the door for new pathways of unification under his son.
"My Queen. Orion may be a lot of things, but a manipulator of hearts is not one of them." He was pointing to the evidence that he was consistently rejecting the interest of a number of ponies quite openly. To see him do the same here was no real surprise, though his bride had confidence that he was merely holding out for Grace.
"I know…" She frowned, the business-like mask that she wore when dealing with her spies returned. "This plan Eberhard and you have cooked up, I'm not sure it is wise."
"Oh? Is there something wrong with our planning?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Not necessarily. Heart, you have done so well turning us about with the winds fighting so hard against you. I fear you see an opportunity that's not there. Giving sensitive information may not be an advisable action." She nodded. "Even if that knowledge is a couple of decades old. We still don't know where he has come from."
The one thing Sigurd had not mentioned in his recitation of Orion's past, was his specific origins because they had no idea where he had been born. No one had seen him before Stalliongrad. Interviews in the surrounding villages and towns of that area had yielded nothing, not even a family line.
It was as if the colt had been yanked from the ether itself and given flesh.
"You're still suspicious of his closeness with Celestia." He muttered, knowing she would hear.
"Yes, I am. Sigurd," she used his name once more, "he treats her as if she is a friend. All the reports have said so."
"My Love, he treated me as if I was just another griffon on the street. I don't actually think he respects authority in any meaningful way." He had glossed over the details of how Orion had reacted in his original recitation, rather, focusing on the conclusions he and Eberhard had drawn from them. Berating himself for the neglect, he explained further.
When he had finished, she nodded thoughtfully.
"To be so flippant with royalty…is a surprise." She tapped her beak in thought. "I will…allow this. But I wish to assign someone to watch him. We must know what he plans as he plans it, otherwise, I fear he may catch us grounded when we should be flying to intercept."
"Thank you, Gabriele." His claws had found their way under her petticoats. "I have already arranged for Eberhard to make himself available, as he is already familiar with the drake and it won’t be seen as the mild trap that it is. Is there anything else to note?" He wanted this impromptu meeting over for the evening. That dress, which showed off her wings and sides of her breasts so pleasingly, and the bite she had playfully given him earlier, still had his blood racing somewhat. His hands had begun to wander, dragging his claws through the fur of her legs as he pushed the petticoats aside.
"Two actually. The first being Maredo'lado is in fact destroyed." She sighed, swatting at his hands. The all-business look was still there.
"This we know. Has something changed?" He let his hands rest back on her knee, irritated mildly at being thwarted.
"We have determined that the Zerbricans had nothing to do with it. For one thing, the nearest tribe was almost a week's march away." That got his attention.
"Then who led the attack?"
Shaking her head, Gabriele wore a pensive frown. "We…cannot be certain, however, the ground where the ponies had set up their settlement was…disturbed."
Sigurd's blood ran cold.
When he was a young drake, full of fire and lacking in wits, still feeling out the Wind's course in his life, he and a small force had gone forth to explore Zerbrica for themselves.
It was during that expedition that he had begun to hear rumors of something that lived beneath the sands. Something monstrous and deadly. Ne’rex Nagabou. The Soul Stealer. He had, unfortunately, confirmed its existence himself in the most foolish of ways.
It had been an idiotic plan. His little band had been hired to attack a group of raiding Abyssinians. They had chosen to cross the open desert sands at night, which had been a grave mistake.
The first sign of trouble had been a mournful groaning that shook the soft earth beneath their paws, making it difficult to keep on their footing. Rather than doubling back and choosing a more acceptable, if longer path, they continued on. Landing to rest their wings in the night would normally have been a brilliant strategy, but they should have instead let the heat winds carry them on to the mountains, but they had not known of the danger.
The Nagabou was waiting for them on their next landing, somehow able to predict their course. In an explosion of sand and pulsing lights of purple and greens, it struck.
Of the three hundred that had gone into that desert with him, only twenty-four returned. It was later learned that the Abyssinians themselves had set the trap by hiring them through a proxy. They had been hoping to either sell or eat, the survivors. Before they could make good on that plan, Sigurd had ordered a full retreat from their encampment in the Hyrfan Canyons.
He had brought four hundred souls with him on his egotistical desire to prove himself a worthy warrior for the Crown. Had he but known of the disaster he would incur in his recklessness.
He shuddered.
"I thought stone was a bar to It."
"It appears that It may have found a path of soft earth to get close with. We are not certain, but it's only in a few locations that indicate the Creature may be involved." She spoke sadly.
The King shook his head. "Those poor souls." While much love was lost between griffon and pony, no one believed anyone should suffer fates worse than death. "You said two things? What is the other?" Both of their blood had been tempered with this news.
"The other is there is still no sign of the Artificer." He grunted at that.
"My Fire, that is not really news. That's more a continued failure of our ability to find them."
Since the repair of Celestia's gate had been learned, the Eyes, Ears, and Listeners had been on high alert in order to find the one who repaired it. There was a Knife in the dark just waiting for them once the target had been found.
It had come as a complete shock. No one had heard of an enchanter in centuries, the last being a diamond dog. That mutt had been executed, and all the creations he had made were confiscated and destroyed. This new Artificer had appeared unexpectedly. Not only that, rather than brag about their ability, they had vanished the moment they completed the work, never revealing themselves. The only point of contact had been a master smith named Forager Broadhammer.
The minotaur's family had been in charge of the Gate since Celestia had placed it in their charge with the great-grandfather. Like those before him, he had only been doing the bare minimum of looking for an enchanter. Everyone outside of pony lands knew better than to allow the risk of the Princess once again regaining her ancient power.
Yet, somehow, one landed in his lap anyway.
"I take it, the whorse hasn't discovered their identity either?" He said with a heavy sigh.
"No, and she is tearing her mane out in frustration." She giggled. "Reports say she is planning to double the reward soon, on both them turning themselves in, or someone doing the deed instead."
"Greed…doesn't seem to be a motivating factor for our mysterious crafter. Perhaps they were merely testing their skill after all." It was an old theory. The only one that made any real sense considering they had nothing else to work with.
"It is looking more and more likely." She leaned into him. "My only concern is if they don't want fame, why even do it all?"
"That, my Heart, is the million-bit question."
Morning found Orion looking blearily at the short maid from the day before. He had trouble falling asleep after his meeting with the griffon King. That bird-cat monarch really knew how to mind fuck a person, and so he was stuck staring at the ceiling trying in vain to find solutions to fuck-ups he was not even aware of.
"Say that again, slowly please." His normal caustic demeanor was buried under exhaustion and night terrors.
When his eyes finally did blissfully close, those nightmares that he could hardly remember didn't seem to match or correlate with anything that had happened to him yesterday. Just high vaulted halls with very old-looking ironwork in the windows. Blackish purple fog obscured everything.
Something, or someone, had been watching him from those foggy depths.
"I said," the young griffon maid began slowly in an irritated tone, "Lady Grace will be unable to join you for breakfast this morning. As this is the case, you will have to find your meal in the barracks dining hall. That is in the East Wing." She pointed down the hall. "Take that, and proceed till you get to the third pathway. Go right, and follow that path until you come to a pair of double doors. That's the dining hall. You'll know you're in the right place with all the guards marching about." She stared back up at him, her face scrunching up with a sniff. "Take a bath. You smell like the back end of a skitermire rat."
He was so tired, he couldn't even muster up a glare to scorch the little shit with. He simply shut the door in her face and made his way to the bathroom.
He shuddered, stepping from the tub and wrapping a thick towel about his frame.
Either they did not have hot water, or someone was screwing with him as the large spigot above the tub had only spewed icy-cold death. No amount of waiting for it to warm up seemed to change its temperature, and he was getting too hungry to care. As he was far too tired to form the semi-complicated spell structures to heat the water, he jumped right in and barely stopped himself from shrieking like a cat. His nutsack had to have shrunk three sizes.
Orion looked into the mirror above the bathroom sink and sighed as he tossed the damp towel into a corner.
"I look like hell warmed over with shit." These nightmares were getting worse.
Heading back into his private bedroom he pulled out his sack of clothes and started sorting through them. As he decided on what to wear, he thought about his dream problem. They had first begun when he had arrived in Canterlot. It may have happened once or twice a year. Now, however, they were occurring as many times as one or two a week.
His first thoughts that they were just a reflection of his worry of being found out, had been pushed away. For one, the dreams were unlike anything he had ever experienced. They felt too real, even if he could not remember everything about them.
There was also the environment to consider, it was always the same. An ancient crumbling castle with iron-barred windows and torn tapestries. Through the fog of black and purple, he could see sections of the walls having been torn apart completely in some type of hellish assault. Couple that with the feeling of being watched and the occasional child crying somewhere further on, and it was all damn well spooky.
Stepping out of his room after choosing an orange shirt and black pants, he made his way to the hall the maid had indicated. To his surprise, the corridor led into the mountain itself. Orion's sense of amazement only grew as he walked into a cavern instead of the expected pathways of a normal castle.
No. That wasn't right. It wasn't just a cavern, but a vast carved-out complex with bridges and walkways crisscrossing themselves at regular intervals. Stopping at a section of crossways the maid had indicated he would need to turn, he peered out into the gloom at some sort of structure cast in shadow. Its shape was irregular like squat skyscrapers bunched together.
"The hell is that?" He muttered.
"That would be the Hyperborean Ruins Mr. Falls." Came the familiar voice of Eberhard Lonelycall.
It took everything in him not to leap into the chasm before them. "Why in the hell did I make the damn radar enchantment if I never fucking use it?!"
It was on, but in his current groggy and exhausted state, he hadn't much paid attention to it.
Grumbling he turned around and glared at the unflappable steward.
"You know it's not polite to scare the hell out of guests." He said hotly.
"I do apologize most sincerely, sir. I did not mean to frighten you." The slim and prim griffon remained immune to his gaze's desire for murder. Orion turned his head away and growled. "What was that, sir?"
"Nothing." He grumbled then took another look at the ruins. "You called that the what? Hyperborean Ruins?"
"Ah, yes. I did." Eberhard stepped forward to stand next to him and gestured at the ancient buildings. "They've been there for some time by all accounts."
Curious, the colt asked the questions now waking up his mind. "Really? Who made them? What's inside?"
"I'm afraid I cannot answer any of those, Mr. Falls. It is perfectly sealed. No known tool of ours can even scratch it. Even worse, there is no indication as to what civilization placed them here." The griffon shook his head sadly. "A true mystery."
Orion frowned as he thought.
"Not even a scratch? True, these guys are barely more than cave…birds? Whatever, barely more advanced than the stone age. Still, to not even be able to scratch the material?"
"Wait, you're telling me that your ancient ancestors built an impenetrable fortress INSIDE a mountain, and none of you know how to get into it?" He asked skeptically. To which Eberhard politely chuckled, shaking his head.
"No. Mr. Falls, that collection of structures is older than the first griffonian rulers to settle here. It predates us by several thousand years at the very least, though our efforts at determining an exact age are difficult. Even the very few researchers we allowed to come from Equestria could not figure out its age. Or how to get inside. We do not even know just how large it truly is."
Orion blinked in surprise. Not even Equestrians knew what it was? He whistled.
"How come I never learned about this in class?" Not really addressing it to his unwanted companion. Eberhard responded anyway.
"Likely because I doubt your education is covering archeology, sir." The pony snorted at that. He was right, but the fact that he knew somehow irked him.
Turning from the ruins he addressed the griffon steward. "You my foalsitter today, or something?"
The griffon's eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled. "No, sir. I was just making sure you were making your way to the dining hall. Lady Grace wishes to express her deepest regrets that she was unable to join you for breakfast this morning."
He just waved the bird off.
"No need for all of that. I get it. She's got responsibilities. I can fend for myself for a few hours." He shrugged and turned to head on down the path toward the barracks dining hall. "I do have to wonder, not that I am used to it by any means, but I am curious to know if you guys normally serve your guests meals in their rooms."
Eberhard was hot on his heels.
"Ah, apologies. But I fear you are partly to blame." He gave the pony before him an apologetic look. "Not to sound rude, but the announcement of your sudden arrival came too late for us to prepare anything in advance. I can tell you that starting tomorrow you will be provided meals in your room upon request. When you are not, of course, dining with her Ladyship."
Orion felt bad about that. Had it not been such a time crunch, and if he hadn't been worried about Celestia or someone intercepting his last letter to Screaming, he would have certainly given them a better heads-up. He had half believed his letter wouldn’t even make it to Griffonia before him.
"Naw, don't worry about that. As long as the food is decent I can slum it with the troops no problem."
The griffon steward missed a step and caught himself before moving quickly to catch back up. "Are you sure, sir?"
Well, at least he wasn't going to fight him on it.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Besides, I'm no noble." He laughed. A look back showed Eberhard bore a whimsical smile.
"I will let his Majesty know of your preferences. And the maids as well."
"Speaking of maids." He ducked around a group of three guards. They turned to watch him curiously as he and Screaming's steward made their way back into the rough-hewn walls of the mountain. "What's up with the short one? The tabb…the griffon hen with an attitude." He nearly called the bird-cat a tabby. Other than some falcon's features, the servant looked more like a tabby cat than anything else he had seen.
"Ah. Apologies for her temper. Valka Goodwing is still rather new to the role of servant." The griffon shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "She was from a minor house. Unfortunately, with fortunes the way they are, her family has fallen into disgrace."
"Oh…shit." His brain was as capable as ever in forming a cohesive sentence. Still, the knowledge that the nobility were beginning to fall was discouraging. The nation was on its last breaths if it was that bad.
The wealthy as much as he disliked them, yet wished to join, were the financial backbone of any organized government. Sure communes could get along in small isolated groups, but without the weight of a government with military backing, they would quickly be snapped up by less-than-good-intentioned regimes. Someone always wanted more power.
"Indeed. Here we are, Mr. Falls." He gestured to the large double doors they had been searching for.
Guards were streaming in and out in groups, yammering away at each other and laughing uproariously.
All that stopped the moment they approached. The troops nearby gave respectful nods to Eberhard, which made Orion reevaluate the bird-cat’s position in the hierarchy of the castle. There was clearly more to him than just being the head servant of his friend.
Where the steward had received courtesy, the colt amongst the armed forces of Griffonia got stares of bewilderment.
"I'm not expected to be here, am I?" He whispered to his escort.
"Ah, yes. I suppose you would not be. Any pony visitors we have ever received have chosen to eat away from griffons in general." He sniffed, rather angrily. "Our nature offends them, or so I have been told."
Orion suppressed a grin. "Oh, they're in for a treat then." Eberhard actually laughed. Politely.
"I shall leave you here, Mr. Falls." He stepped away, prim form once more. "I've also been instructed to inform you that the castle library is in the west wing. Not too far away from where your room is. Any guard shall be capable of directing you if asked." He bowed slightly. "Enjoy your day, sir. Lady Grace should be able to see you this afternoon."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks. For the company and letting me know about Scream." He waved and squeezed into the dining hall, much to the surprise of the griffon soldiers around him.
"What is that?" Orion pointed to a stack of very familiar cylindrical meat, his mouth had begin to drool. If that was what he thought it was, he was going to cry. For joy.
The cook behind the counter, a burly bird-cat with a scar across his left eye that had not robbed him of his sight, grinned as he picked up one of the meat sticks in his claws.
"This? This here is called sausage." He waved it about. "Not that you ponies would know that. It's meat. You wouldn't-"
"How many can I have?!" He practically blurted, spit leaking at the corner of his mouth that he wiped away with an arm.
"...what?" It looked like someone had conked the cook right between the eyes.
"How. Many. Can. I. Have?" Orion said slowly.
"As…as much…as you want?" The question was clear. Along with the shock that he wanted meat. Behind the griffon, a number of cooks and assistants came to a halt, all staring like he had grown a second head.
Rather than drag this out, for one there were eggs and another type of meat toward the end he wanted to dig into. "I want six pieces, please." Someone choked behind him. He ignored that.
Numbly, the cook placed the sausages on his plate, and the colt moved down for the rest of the goodies on the buffet line.
When Orion had first entered the dining hall proper, the hush that had fallen in the hallways followed him inside. Every eye watched as he made his way over to the breakfast line, and grabbed a tray.
No one seemed to object, so that was a good start.
Sitting down at an isolated wooden picnic table, he grinned at his prize. Real meat. The ham slices, from what he was told, came from an animal called a gordat. A vaguely boar-like animal found on the northern slopes of the mountain where the castle was built upon.
The difference between boars on earth, and the ones here, were that they were heavier, and somehow bred in greater numbers. Making them ideal for mass harvesting without damaging the population.
It was still deathly silent. But as he picked up the first slice, and dipped it in a sauce that tasted oddly like horseradish, the whole cafeteria seemed to become a tomb.
He bit into it and felt tears leak from his eyes. It was so delicious. He quickly scarfed the piece and reached for another one. By his fourth, a griffoness in padded armor, sat down in front of him with her own tray. Her beak worked, but no words came out.
Pausing he regarded the guard with a cocked eyebrow.
"Gonna let flies in if ya keep gaping like that." He shoved a sausage into his mouth and moaned. The sun could explode and he would not regret a thing.
For a moment, the bird-cat stared. Then started laughing.
"Drake, if you wanted to impress us," she said through tears and giggles, "you didn't have to make yourself sick to do it!" The griffon howled and pounded the table.
Many others had begun chuckling to various degrees, those closest to his table, the rest just sat with confused faces. He had some doubters.
Chugging back some orange juice, he grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. Mrs. Evergarden would have had a fit.
"Lady, if you think I'm putting on a show for you I hate to burst your bubble. This is all about me," he picked up another sausage, "and the blessings your country is currently heaping on me in the form of these incredible fucking meat sticks of heaven.”
As he devoured the hapless little sausage, the guard before him spluttered again. The laughter had died down as well.
"You…you can't seriously tell me you like meat!" She finally got out.
"Lady. I don't just like it. I actually need it. I've been making due on a diet of fish. But I MISS the taste of red meat." He popped some scrambled eggs into his maw. Even the eggs felt like they were on another level. He should have asked where they sourced them from.
"Wait. Need?" Her eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean, need?"
He flashed her a grin, the first this morning, and put his teeth on full display.
"Believe it or not, I'm an omnivore. First of my kind according to some of the doctors back in Equestria."
The hen just sat there, dumbstruck as he explained away all the testing that had been done to confirm what he already knew. As he tossed in the last bit of gordat into his mouth, Orion patted his stomach.
"Dear God above, I needed that." He looked at her still-untouched plate. "That's likely gotten cold by now."
To this, the griffon guard cursed. "Fucking, Tartarus." The colt cocked his head a moment and smiled.
"Let me help you with that." His horn burst to life, making several soldiers jerk in surprise. Scanning the food, he applied a heating spell that brought the breakfast back up to consumable temperatures. "There, that should do it."
Taking a hesitant bite of sausage, she perked up in surprise. "Hey, that's not bad!" She dug in and was quiet for a while as he lazily finished his OJ.
In the lull of that moment, the dining hall seemed to turn back into what he supposed was a normal amount of chatter. No doubt he was the subject of many of the conversations that echoed their way about the room to reach him as white noise.
He turned to his not-quite-unwanted eating companion, shrugging his shoulders a bit before deciding it would be rude not to introduce himself with the only griffon to interact with him voluntarily. Well, besides Eberhard.
"Names Orion Falls. You?" He stuck out his hand.
She looked at him, then his outstretched hand, then her own. Wiping it on her padded armor's chest, and shook his finally.
"My name is Swiftwing. Uh, Gertie Swiftwing. Everyone just calls me Swift." She said sheepishly.
"Call me whatever. So, I'll leave out the obvious questions as to why you came over here." They both chuckled at that. "But I will ask how fast this is gonna tear through the gossip wheel here in Griffonstone." He gestured to himself and the now very empty plate before him, wearing a very satisfied smile.
Swift thought for a moment before giving a smile of her own. "Likely already spread through the castle. Expect the city to know by sundown. Fuck me, I wish my fledgling was here to see this. She would never have believed it! A pony. Eating meat and actually needing it! Ha!" She slapped the table again.
"Skeptical of everything?" He asked. In truth, he cared little, but as he sat there Orion was beginning to regret how much he had taken on his plate and was looking for something to keep himself awake. The itis was hitting him already, the gym was looking like his next stop of the day.
"Yeah." She said, suddenly melancholic. "My fault I suppose." He braced himself for the overshare and was surprised that she kept it simple. "I had her outside of marriage, and young to boot. Wasn't the greatest mom, ya know?"
He shrugged and gave an honest reply. "I'm an orphan, wouldn't know."
"Oh? Sorry." Swift said with a frown.
"Eh, don't worry about it. I'm fine with it. What's your kid's name? I mean fledgling." He said quickly.
"No, kid is a pretty fucking accurate thing to call her. Stubborn as any goat I've met. Her name is Gilda. She's the bane of my existence, and yet, the spark of my life." She shook her head with a smile. "Unfortunately, she's adopted the harsher attitudes from me. I'm surprised I managed to get her to go to summer camp at all this year."
Orion cocked his head. There are summer camps? In what is essentially medieval times?
"Summer camp? Really?" He asked incredulously.
"Hey, you ponies are the ones to come up with it." She laughed. "The camp is called Junior Flyers. It's for pegasi but a fair bit of griffons and other flight-bound species get to attend. As long as you can afford it that is." She sighed. "If they keep raising the cost I don't see me being able to fucking send her next year."
"Ouch. That…I don't have anything to say to that." He mumbled.
"Yeah, not much anyone can say." The conversation trailed off there for a few minutes. "...well I have to get to my post. It was nice…"meating" you, Orion." They shook hands with another laugh, and Swift was out the door.
"Guess there is such a thing as single mothers here." He muttered, standing and taking his tray to a deposit station. He should ask one of those guards near the door where a gym might be at.
Late afternoon, he was in the castle library. In all honesty, it might be better if he referred to it as a personal collection than a proper library. The Canterlot Castle Library's first-floor crystal archive room was bigger by half.
Still, there was quite a bit of material that wasn't on the shelves of that world-famous library. Or at least nothing he could get a hold of as there were restricted zones that Twilight had told him about.
He wonder how she was doing.
A lot of controversial titles such as, "The Tyranny of the Sun" . A scathing study on Celestia and her role as leader and demigod of Equestria. A quick scan even made a claim she was lying about her supposed mastery over the celestial object.
After a little digging, he found that the author, an Earth pony scientist named Fig Newton who had been beheaded for his crimes against country and Princess over the very book that was now in his temporary possession. It was an eye-opening reminder that while the ruler of Equestria may indulge his more rude behaviors with some equanimity, she was still very much capable and willing to end a threat to her rule. Maybe now that he was older he should moderate his behavior around her, with this latest stunt he pulled, being polite might keep his head on his shoulders.
Perusing through a few more aisles, he found a section of maps, dusty from their long languish of inactivity. Might be a good idea to know what was inside the nation. Just as he reached for one, a voice popped up behind him.
"Why am I not surprised to find you here, bookworm." Screaming's voice was heavy with sarcasm. He turned around with a smirk on his face.
"Eh, figured I would make it easy for you to find me." She shoved him gently and he poked her in the stomach. "What's up, Featherbreath? Meetings go okay?"
"Please, can we not talk about those, I hate them." She groaned walking toward the entrance.
He winced in commiseration. Likely the same troubles that had plagued Twilight when she ascended from the average commoner to nobility by proxy. If not more so. Screaming had inherited a title and not quite the responsibilities to a land that was her long-dead family's. There was no support other than what had been cobbled together by the King and various loyal members of her house.
Against her, was a griffoness who had been in the game for decades. What she struggled to learn, Rosebreast knew on instinct alone. Not to mention where she had spent much of her conscious youth already poisoned her in the eyes of her supposed peers.
Scream's life was complicated as hell.
"I have dinner waiting for us." She said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him along. His stomach obviously heard her, because it gave a grumble of approval much to his embarrassment.
Screaming's beak broke into a broad smile. "I take it your stomach approves?"
He laughed as he pulled the library door shut. "Believe me, he has never been so happy. I think lunch made him even happier than breakfast."
Lunch, once he had taken a shower to wash the sweat and grime of a difficult workout off, was amazing. His heart warmed at the memory of the buffet line with deli meat-style cuts. He had made such a big sandwich.
"I heard about that." She giggled, giving him a bemused expression. "I also hear you've been making friends with the castle soldiers."
He shrugged awkwardly.
The guard from breakfast that morning had decided to spread the word of the meat-eating pony. The entire dining hall was soon packed moments after he had started to build his sandwich that very afternoon. Swift had been his immediate lunch companion, but she was soon followed by several others as they crowded him, asking the same questions she had before.
It was nice.
They didn't ask with the predisposition air of disdain. Instead, they were just curious about who he was and where he had come from. A far more accepting group of people he had not met in this world.
The folks of Ponyville were close, but they had needed a mare named Granny to make them more approachable.
Shooting the shit with them for the better part of forty minutes was a great way to spend his lunch and made him feel less isolated coming up here.
If wishes were fishes everyone would have some to fry, but he really did wish he could have come into this world as a griffon. They were a lot more accepting of the strange up here.
"Heard about that, did ya?" He smiled at her enthusiastic nod. "Yeah, they were all curious about the meat-eating pony. Had to give them the details. Or as much as I thought they could handle."
"Well, tell me about it over dinner." She had hung onto his arm the entire way, practically dragging him. The room she pulled him into was her own private rooms, and there in the center was a table for two. Complete with a single candle.
"Oh, boy. I'm am gonna have to be careful here." He wasn't about to be some asshole, and drag her heart through the dirt. But at the same time, he couldn't just allow her to believe in a fantasy either.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he thought about how best to let her down easily without shattering her heart.
She understood why Sigurd had not rejected the refugees that constantly flocked to Griffonstone. It was a cycle after all. For as far back as the emancipation of the hippogriff's nation of Neighbon, the flood of the hungry, the desperate, and the sick was a constant sight. Allowing that small territory to sue for its independence was a mistake, one her ancestors would never have allowed to happen.
Rosebreast clucked her beak in frustration as she gazed out onto the stricken capital city of Griffonia. It should never have been allowed to fall this far. From here, she could see the masses packed into the filthy alleyways between buildings.
Eventually, enough bits would be scrapped together to send them back out to old settlements to try again. Their children would likely return.
However, there was proof that whatever Sigurd was up to was working. Less and less would return to Griffonstone every Migration, as her fellow nobles had begun to call it, and that was cause for concern.
Rosebreast adjusted the bodice of her black-trimmed dress and leaned her hands against the black wood railing before her.
The King of Griffonia had somehow managed to turn the failing economy, and his own house's fortunes, around in the past thirty years. She suspected a large part of that was due to his Queen. A lucky break for him, and an obstacle for her. Gabriele's information network was a tasty prize that the Duchess absolutely would have once her other plans had succeeded.
If they succeeded.
So far the King and Queen's hatchling had proven difficult to kill. Prince Gerhard was showing he was as crafty as his mother in discovering carefully laid traps before they were sprung.
Her grip on the rail tightened, driving her claws into the wood.
Then there was the return of Grace Fairheart. An unwelcome surprise that made her wish the fledgling had been trampled with her parents. Her return threatened her control and standing all at once. If the House of Lords decided against her, all her plans would come to nothing.
She smiled.
"That shouldn't be a problem anymore."
The foolish hen had invited a pony, of all people, to the capital. Not just any pony either, but one known to be closely associated with the whorse, Celestia. It was too perfect. This Orion Falls status as an orphan was secondary, a very distant secondary. None of her fellow nobles would see that, only the monarch of ponies behind him.
Once Gerhard was removed, Sigurd and his pirate bride could be swiftly dealt with.
Rosebreast allowed her smile to grow. She would be magnanimous and allow Grace Fairheart to live in disgrace in some forgotten hovel. Never to rise from the dirt again.
The door to her veranda opened with a faint click she just barely heard. Turning quickly, she found her most loyal of servants already bowing low before her.
"Speak Drystan. What news do you bring me?"
The all-black griffon rose from his position but kept his head angled appropriately low, as a servant should.
"I bring…concerning news, my Lady." His voice was nearly as silent as his flight in the night.
Her good mood slackened, and a frown replaced her features.
"What is it?"
"The colt that is visiting Grace Fairheart has had an unusual two days…."
As her servant spoke of the events of his arrival, the frown turned into a scowl.
Author's Note
Hello! Welcome to Chapter 19, or as I like to call it: "My personal Hell."
"But why Master Morgan? You love writing!" You may say. Indeed I do, but this chapter...oooo this chapter I wish to see burned. I spent far too long on it.
Now, some of you may have noticed a name drop. Shhhh.
Monday I start my new job and judging by the next two weeks I shall know how busy I am and how it will impact the story's production rate. Hopefully, I will have a decent handle on it.
Well, that's it! Thanks for coming to see this chapter, and I cannot wait for you to see the next one.
War, What is it Good For: Part 1
Author's Note
. . .
I have gone over this chapter at least a dozen times. In fact, the reason for the delay in posting last Sunday was because I found something that didn't quite pass muster.
Honestly, it was complete dogshit, and I hated it. So...REWRITE! Of a rewrite...of a rewrite.
Life is grand, isn't it?
Anyway, this chapter is finally up and ready for your reading pleasure.
Update: As far as posting is concerned, I'm going to keep it to a three-week posting schedule. Largely due in part to my editor being forced to work 12-hour shifts. I cannot rely on them due to no fault of their own, so I am forced to become meticulous in my editing, which is why it will take me longer to post. Sorry for that.
Update 2: I recently got a new job. More pay for fewer responsibilities. Love that. The best part, I can squeeze in some writing here and there.
Finally...how have you all been? It's been a minute, and I have missed you all! I hope you are staying hydrated, getting enough sleep, and are looking forward to the fall months! (My Favorite time of year FYI)
Anyway, enjoy reading! Peace!
War, What is it Good For: Part 1
The tour seemed to stretch on with the unbearable march of a snail through tree sap. Every step had the weight of an age, every turn, the dawning of an epoch.
Orion shook his head and grimaced. "Perhaps a bit over dramatic, brain." That interruption of a background internal monolog did not help.
Still, he really couldn't be mad at their guide. That would be unjustified, considering who was in the tour group with them. It was the brats more than the parents. Underhoof and everywhere, they seemed to get into everything, and that really annoyed him.
Every five minutes:
"Heat, don't do that."
"Airedale, put that down."
"Quit picking on your brother, Seig."
On it went, and as he looked over at his tagalong, he could see the hen's will to live slowly evaporating through every sigh, every eye roll declaring her desire for death. He wasn't entirely certain whether that was her own or the family's.
Leaning over, he whispered in her ear. "I could not imagine taking care of that army of rugrats." He scandalously said. "Could you imagine me with a herd? I would be up for mass murder in five years."
The sudden gallows humor comment caused Gilda to slap a hand across her beak, attempting to stifle the giggles that broke through.
He grinned. Over the course of his stay, he found it very easy to understand soldiers' humor, so of course, Gilda Broadwing was not immune to grim jokes.
"That…is not funny, Orion." She said between gasps, struggling mightily to contain herself.
"Yes, it is, you laughed. I'm off the hook." He chuckled, earning a dark look from the drake. "Smiles over there don't seem to appreciate our good humor."
"Would you if you were contending with a nagging wife and hatchlings that won't stop messing with things?"
He shook his head, grin widening. Soon enough, the good feels were swept away, replaced by more parental admonishments, and that forced Orion to turn inward on himself.
Reviewing what they had been told so far wasn't much of an exercise. Most of what they learned was simple day-to-day stuff that the early settlers had to do when they first landed here after being unceremoniously dumped by the powers that be. That being Equestria and Griffonia, of course.
However, there were notable points in the country's development that did catch his attention.
According to Book Heart, their blonde-on-blonde guide, the history of Neighbon is a rather linear one. A few points of major historical interest have occurred since their founding some eight hundred years ago.
The large collection of war-born hippogriffs and the families that had birthed them were placed here as per the agreement between Equestria and Griffonia. The land, he knew already, had been pulled from both nations' borders to be given to the fledgling kingdom, and few resources had been offered up due to the brief war costing both taxed kingdoms more than they could realistically afford. There were just far too many of them.
Or so that was the claim.
It was a complete surprise then to the global community that the nation had not only survived its first few decades but had also discovered its talents in the mercantile and shipping business. They had managed to wedge themselves into every trading route involving water, showing an almost unnatural affinity for sailing itself.
The guide had no answer for their success. It seemed that, like Equestria, certain talents and knowledge were kept in the dark from the public though that might be largely due to his own skepticism then actual proof. As far as written history, he could see no hidden timelines within theirs that had been hidden away.
Yet there were anomalies.
What had become known to the public was that on every ship was someone called a Nav'ter Kan . The phrase did not have any known context to any language he had heard of, nor was it Prench, but it meant Stargazer in Equish though the source of the translation is still unknown, just accepted as is.
The very first Nav'ter was a hippogriff hen named Comet Wave. Her talent, while no mark ever blossomed on her flanks nor did it do so for hippogriffs in general, she displayed that rare capability to navigate the sea with remarkable ease. Neither required tools or training, it seemed.
With her help and guidance, she assisted Neighbon in forging trade deals, devised the unique way Neighbonese ships were constructed, and mapped out safe routes for the vessels to travel that possessed a talent for avoiding banditry like the plague.
Before long, it was apparent that they would need more Nav'ter as the nation's growth increased, and miraculously Comet had a solution for that. More like her appeared. A guild known as Torva' Col Nav'ter was formed around them and became the only known source of Stargazers in the nation. Or the world, for that matter.
There were arguments from local merchants of the time about the name of the Order, as well as complaints about where the Nav'ter were coming from. Those were quickly silenced as those who voiced concerns found themselves quickly in trouble on the ocean. Many of their sailing vessels outright vanished. All hands lost to the waves, which was weird, as hippogriffs can fly very well in inclement weather.
That had been the end of that, which indicated to the black pony that piracy was not as foreign of a concept to the Neighbonese people as one might believe.
Regardless of the name, these Navigators, as Orion considered them, had completely supplanted themselves into the Neighbonese culture, and at least one of them always held a position on the Council itself, even to this very day.
Any vessel without a Nav'ter was almost guaranteed to have the same issues as those foolish merchants of the past, and so by fear and custom, they became a staple of mercantilism for the nation.
What was most curious to the black colt was how someone learned they were capable of doing the job. All recruiting and training were done through the guild, and only a handful of hippogriffs had been noted to have the mindset for it every generation.
A question for another time he had mused during the tour as they were plodded along to other, less exciting lessons of history. For that's what this place was, a historical reliquary, sacred only to the people of Neighbon and no one else.
Still, it was a fun tourist spot, if nothing else. Well, to others, to him, it was all boring, and Orion was starting to believe it a waste of time to have even come here to begin with.
As a man from another world, he had seen things that would make the common rabbles' eyes pop out of their skulls. So this little tour was proving to be to his detriment, not his benefit.
A glance at Gilda showed the hen mirroring his thoughts in her slouched posture as she eyed yet another poster with the nation's detailed, monotonous path with little enthusiasm.
"Now. If you would all follow me, I will show you to Neighbon's famous ancient relics." The mare said excitedly. "We have pulled quite a bit from the sea floor in recent years and have yet to learn all of how each item functioned before history." Book smiled regretfully. "Unfortunately, our exhibit is downstairs on the basement level, and I must warn you. Despite our room of cooling crystals, the chambers below are unusually quite warm. Some have even called it hot. So if you are feeling any ill effects, please notify me or one of the staff immediately."
His ears perked up at that.
"Ancient relics? As in, pre-Neighbonese artifacts?"
His brain had also noted their tour leader's warning about the heat. But he wasn't concerned. The prospect of seeing ancient tools and artifacts from a bygone likely ignorant era was actually pulling him from the precipice of death by boredom.
Orion had often wondered how the early peoples of the land had first discovered their tools. He had hoped that with enlightenment, he could finally figure out how they learned to make radios and trains but not automobiles and planes.
"Seriously, how bad could it be?"
"Jesus fucking Christ," Orion mumbled as he mopped sweat from his face with a rag that may have become as damp as he was.
Book Heart had, perhaps, undersold just how broiling the basement levels was. He felt like he was being cooked in his own skin.
Gilda had bailed on him five minutes after stepping down into the underground chambers. The family took one step in and quickly departed, too, a small mercy as the things in here sent a shiver through his spine.
There were, in fact, two levels, though the second was just a half of a full staircase down from the other. The walls were like upstairs, chiseled out rough features. However, instead of posters, reliefs, and tiny miniature ships on display upon the walls and shelves, there were long tables covered in what their guide called "undersea curiosities".
To Orion Falls, it should have been impossible to exist from a time period before bronze age tools.
Before him, as he sweated and huffed in the stifling atmosphere, eagerly drinking an already warm glass of ice water, was one of the long tables. Littered with ancient items of the times before there were hippogriffs was a creation that just could not be.
Had his Radar not already been on, he may not have recognized the contraption for what it was. A computer, more specifically, a laptop. The Gate was one thing. It was big and clunky, but this? This was something far different, more sophisticated in a way.
Corroded and likely beyond repair as it was, the computational equipment was still easily recognizable despite centuries of exposure to the sea. Though, instead of a screen, there seemed to be an array that had once been designed to project an image of whatever the device was intended to display. If not for his ill-advised repair of Celestia's Gate, he probably wouldn't have recognized that either.
Still, deep inside the board, through his enchantment, he could see the various degraded wires and tiny crystal remnants, marking that there were once working circuits inside.
He shook his head and tried his damndest to keep the shock from his face as he peered at the equipment.
"How in the holy hell did they have computers back then but somehow lose the knowledge of their creation since?!"
It was insane. Pure and simple. What made this? Where did they go? How had it come to rest buried in muck and sand, only to be dredged out now after so long? And more importantly, what was it made of to resist decay like that?
His eyes swept across the rest. Some of it was beyond him, looking to have been pulled from possibly larger devices judging by the jagged edges on some of them.
However, he knew a gun when he saw one, which set his teeth on edge.
The large rifle, looking very much like a child's toy blaster from his youth, was mostly still operational as near as he could tell. Like the gate, it merely needed a few new crystals, gems, and a realignment with the current ley line field in the area.
The weapon had clearly been built tougher than the equipment surrounding it.
"Jesus…Christ…" The thought that someone may one day figure out what it really is, made his blood run cold. At the moment, they believed it to be some type of tool meant for construction, like a hammer. Or at least according to the nameplate before it said so. The computer's tag nearly made him burst out laughing.
"Washing board."
The morons actually thought it was once used to suds up clothes!
"Fascinating, isn't it?" Book Heart's sudden voice next to his ear painfully reminded him that he was not using radar for its intended purpose, which might have been for the good, as it may have brought up uncomfortable questions as to why he was never startled.
But he could have at least done without the heart attack.
"Uh….huh?" The displays around him had frazzled his mind, and the mare's sudden appearance had left him struggling to get his head right.
"Oh, I'm sorry." She giggled, taking note of his panic-stricken face. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was implying the items on the table here." She laughed softly. "Really, this whole room. I never tire of coming down here to look at it all." Her gaze swung about them, taking in the various pieces of ancient technology. "It's all so fascinating!"
The Room of Relics, as the placard at the bottom of the stairs, so helpfully announced in a flowery hand, was big. Easily twice as big and more than the exhibits above.
As he had noticed before when he had first stepped down into the mini-hell, there were more tables than he had suspected there would be. Not only did they circle the chamber, they were set in rows of four, with five in each row. The collection before him was far more than he had expected.
"Uh, yeah. It really is…" He trailed off, looking at some more of the displays.
"That is an awful lot of firepower…"
Various but similarly designed firearms sat haphazardly upon their stands, each with a placard labeling them as something they were not. Like the weapon in front of him, they, too, looked to be in pristine condition. Considering their ocean source, it made him wonder what the difference was between them and the computer.
"I can't help but notice that some of these relics look to be in better shape than the others. Why?" He asked innocently.
Book Heart's eyes sparkled in excitement.
"That is true!" She gave him an eager smile. "I see you have a keen eye." She gestured to the gun before them. "It's the material they are made from! An advanced metal we don't know how to make encases each one. To be honest, we have no idea how to break down their very construction as the one and only time anypony has attempted to do so. It resulted in a massive explosion that took the poor pony's life." She said sadly.
Despite morbid horse death being the topic, her voice had not lost any of its zeal for the subject.
"Our ancestors must have been working with magical forces beyond our current understanding for such an accident to occur." Her tone was almost reverent.
"Or it could be that whoever had made these things didn't want someone fucking with them and put in security measures to keep prying eyes in their sockets. Or on the walls."
A quick glance at the weapon showed a similar anti-tampering device, like the one in the gate, buried in the hilt of the weapon. Instead of masking what was inside, this one appeared to look innocuous until it was time to go boom.
Celestia's Gate was proving a greater lesson than he would have ever guessed.
This one was not inert either. Somehow, through a method he could not figure out, the ancient people had come up with a way to keep it active long after their apparent demise. And without reliance on a ley line to keep it powered.
"Because of the incident, we could no longer investigate, and were instead restricted to observational study only." She looked at him. "Oh, you do not need to be afraid!" She picked the gun up and rapped it against the table several times, much to the black pony's dismay.
"Don't do that!" He shouted, reaching to snatch what amounted to a bomb away from the crazy mare.
Giggling, she kept it away from his reach. "Relax! See? It is quite harmless." She did it again, and Orion considered running. If he was fast enough, he might get out alive.
"Though, if its explosion sets off the others…" The colt shuddered.
"Just…please don't risk it to prove a point!" He cried, managing to snatch the device from her hand and place it gingerly back into place. "Please." Placing a hand on his heart, he muttered. "One of these may actually be on a hair trigger."
"Fair enough." She giggled again. "I'm sorry if I frightened you again. I merely wished to prove they were safe." Tapping a finger to her lips, she thought allowed. "Though perhaps I should not have gone that far."
"No shit." He deadpanned at her. Noting the gesture Book Heart performed was oddly griffonian in nature.
He looked back to his guide and winced when he saw her face scrunched up in distaste.
"Sorry." He said reluctantly at the dour expression from the mare. Swearing was not something a colt should do in pleasant company. Or at least that's what he was told by Mrs. Evergarden, his teachers, and damn near everyone he had ever encountered.
It wasn't till he had journeyed into Griffonia that he was spared that overused spiel.
"I've gotten spoiled." He noted wryly.
"Has anypony ever told you, you sound more like a griffon than a pony?" She asked once the unicorn felt he was properly abashed.
"I get that a lot. But I was not born in Equestria, just a resident of Canterlot now." He chuckled. "And even after…" He counted, "Crap!" He carefully muttered. "Nine years…heh." Shaking his head, he gave another apologetic smile. "Even after nine years, I still sound like I am an outsider. Makes school a bit awkward as I don't use pronouns like anypony or everypony."
The gloomy expression was replaced by mild surprise.
"You don't?" Book Heart asked, surprised.
"Nope."
"Are...are you able to elaborate?" She asked, confused at his simple and short answer.
"I would," he began, "but I've explained it away so often it's become tedious. Rest assured. I will have cards made for future situations like this." He grinned.
"Um…alright." It was clear to him that the mare was becoming peevish with his attitude and avoidance of answering her. Thinking quickly, Orion's eyes spied the final set of stairs leading to the bottom of the stone pillar they were in.
"What's down there?"
Frowning, she looked behind her and grunted in annoyance, unless he was mistaken.
"That is where our research on the pillars themselves is being conducted. I am afraid it is off limits."
"Off limits? Dangerous chemicals or something?"
"Not necessarily, no." She shrugged. "I believe it mostly has to do with not wanting tourists to get underhoof."
That made sense. He certainly wouldn't want a bunch of randos poking and prodding at delicate experiments. The thought of that family being unleashed there made him want to chuckle.
"Wait, what's this about the pillars?"
"So, are the pillars unique in some way?" He asked, curiously staring at the curtains that blocked the view to what he assumed was the lowest level.
"Yes, and no." She said tentatively. "It's not widely known, and certainly not my field as I am an archeologist, but the pillars are…well, for lack of a better term, they are growing, and we have yet to understand how and, more importantly, why." Book shrugged uncomfortably. "What I have gathered is that the stone in the pillars is missing key elements found on the ocean floor. That's the unique part. The pillars and the immediate surrounding area of the city itself are all missing those elements. It's like it has been…processed?" She frowned. "Before you ask, they wouldn't tell me anything more than that. But I suppose that's what you get with Sol-backed researchers."
"Sol, what?" He wanted to ask why the ocean floor was specifically spoken about. They were on land, not in the ocean. However, the mention of Sol derailed him.
"Oh, sorry. I meant that the researchers below are from the Church of Sol." She shrugged, and his frown deepened. "Other than their zeal for the Church and their Sun, they are good ponies. Keep to themselves a bit too much if you ask me. But I have no complaints."
"Jesus Christ. These assholes are everywhere."
It was uncomfortable to know that the folks who attempted to shove him into a detention facility years ago not only manned a museum in a completely different country but were also heading the research here with impunity.
Even in Canterlot, though strangely hidden away from the public, members operated in official positions of authority throughout the city.
It creeped him out that their influence reached even this far. It was time to go.
"Well," he coughed, "I think this is about all the heat I can stand. Thank you, Miss Heart, for a lovely tour." He gave a short bow and received a modest nod in return. Making his way up the stairs, he decided it was time to visit the water for a swim. He had more than enough boiling in his own flesh.
"I wonder what they got available for swimwear here…wait a minute."
He turned to look back at Book Heart with surprise and envy. Unlike him, the blonde-maned mare was completely dry, and she wore what looked like a priest's habit to boot too.
"How in the hell did she do that?"
He wanted to ask, but after just abruptly leaving, he figured it would be rude to come back and further badger her with questions. Shrugging, Orion noted he would have to see if there was a spell he could learn that she might have used to quell the unnatural heat that seemed to infest the place.
Turning once more, he raced up the steps. The ocean called to him.
The shadowed tops of trees whisked by at a steady but swift pace. Obscuring the mountain's stoney ground from view. Not that he could see anything this late in the evening.
He felt a light strike at the same time the sound of metal being struck on his left hoof reached him, and he grimaced. Apparently, the griffon who carried him was bored. He could not be certain, as it could have been anything, but Shining suspected he was being dipped just low enough for a branch or two to hit his dangling limbs.
This was harmless as far as personal amusement went, but he did not like their position being jeopardized like that. Adjusting his weight, he shot a glare up at his carrier, re-cinching the buckles on his legs and cannons just in case.
Vorder looked down, his grin almost being lost in the darkness save for the sliver of moonlight that highlighted it with the clearing of cloud cover earlier in the evening.
Beating his wings harder, the drake rose a bit more, and the squadron continued its journey around the mountain.
"My squad…" Shining thought that odd, as the number under his command had grown larger than he had anticipated. And far more varied than he ever desired.
To his left and right, Second Lieutenant Spitfire and Private Storming Wing flew in parallel to him and his bearer. Just outside of them, Specialist Pestle Break was born by a slim hen known only as Dara, and Sergeant Earnest Hearts was being carried by two others who had grumbled and complained about the detail and wisely avoided giving their names.
Despite her size, Earnest was easily the heaviest of his original team due in large part to the heavy armor she insisted she wore. He could see her now, glaring hatefully at everything she looked at, which was often enough the two that struggled to carry her.
Like most Earth Ponies, the mare hated heights and believed any good pony could and should rely on their hooves.
Behind them, silently beating their wings, was one hundred griffons in night black armor, with Val Shadow-wing leading them. His eyes constantly shifted about for anything that should not be.
All at his command, all answering to him. This included Prince Gerhard's personal friend.
A very strange turn of events.
"Why…give the command to me? I'm an outsider, not to mention a pony." Shining had been caught off guard by the request. "S-shouldn't Vorder be the one to issue orders?" He asked, curious and a little off-put to have so much authority and responsibility suddenly thrusted upon him.
"Ah, three reasons." Gerhard raised a single clawed digit. "First, Vorder hates leading anything but a charge, and even then, he half-asses more than he should." A second finger followed the first. "Secondly, this maneuver largely depends on you and your team. Without the freedom of command, you would be stuck with delayed orders because they have to go through Vorder or Val. I do not need hesitancy or stalling in the middle of such a critical assignment." The Prince chuckled richly, raising his last finger. "And lastly, I have heard of you on more than one occasion, selflessly putting your life on the line for others, not of your kind. I'll be honest," he clapped a hand on the stallion's shoulder, "you have inspired me to be better."
Shining blinked slowly, then frowned at the Prince. "Bullshit." He said, nonplussed.
"I'm actually being serious." Gerhard's hand sprung away like it had been burned. His face pulled into his own frown. "I started hearing of your exploits through…let's just say I have my sources and leave it at that." Shaking his head, he continued with a rueful smile. "Anyway, I got detailed information on your campaign in Zebrica, and the way you conducted yourself…to read how you regarded others helped shape me into the griffon I am before you."
Like a colt playing it up for his heroes, the young Prince struck a pose, fists on hips and his stance wide.
"Translation:" called out Vorder, who had been sitting in a chair, leaning back and chugging a mug of whatever liquid was their alcohol, "he's now a goody two-paw that sticks his beak into every conceivable problem he thinks he can solve." He grinned, wiping his mouth. "Included this barrel of rotted fish guts."
"Thank you, once again, Vorder, for summing up my intentions so vulgarly." The young king-to-be groused.
"Anytime, my friend, someone has to keep your ego from expanding too much. No need to compete with the ponies on things full of hot air and all that." Waving his mug at them, he continued. "But Ger is right. I ain't fit to lead a rowboat, let alone this attack. Just leave it to me and the boys to get ya there. After that, we will be the hammer to the Prince's anvil. Know what I'm sayin'?"
"Reporting in." Said a voice low, yet somehow managing to fight the rush of wind with ease to reach his ears and break him from his reverie. "Three small groups of lookouts in front of us. Towers were hastily built at each location. Two thousand paces ahead. Orders?"
Shining had anticipated this and did not hesitate to use the griffon's quieter flight profiles to achieve it.
"Execute and secure. Hauptleute Shadow-wing, take three Flights. Leave no survivors and bury the bodies. Do not waste time. It doesn't need to be fancy." His stomach roiled at issuing such a command, but there was little in the way of options. Soon enough, more would join the body count.
With orders received, Val nodded, and three groups of four broke off and soared ahead quickly. The scout resumed overwatch and pushed on ahead. The main force with him deliberately continued intentionally at their slow but steady pace for this reason alone. True, Spitfire and Storming could have easily gotten to the objective faster, but their wings were, unfortunately, noisier when cutting through the air than the griffons' own. A fact that irked the Second Lieutenant more than it should.
"Think that Ger has already launched his assault?" Vorder asked as they slowly approached their own mission start. If he was nervous, his voice didn't betray it. If anything, he sounded…eager.
The white stallion eyed the crescent moon, only the horn and muzzle of the Mare in the Moon showing as he gauged the time. The sporadic overhead clouds made it difficult to determine the exact time, so he guessed.
"Not yet, no. About a half-hour more. We have time to get into position." He said, and the big griffon carrying grunted in satisfaction.
Vorder's plan was simple. With the cover of darkness, his squadron of bloodthirsty griffons and not-so-excited ponies would cut a circuit around the mountain in which an old fortress the strangely well-organized bandits had taken to was perched on a short cliff.
In ancient times, it had been meant as a bulwark from ponies coming from the north.
To anypony else, that would have been seen as very strange. He would have agreed as well, except Cadence had told him, on a night in which their limbs were tangled together as much as the sheets were, a tale about a lost kingdom. That there was once a nation of crystal equines that had lived to the north of Griffonia.
The nation had existed so long ago that, other than her, only history-obsessive researchers knew anything of its history or location. It turned out. However, many griffons among Gerhard's troops also knew of the ancient danger as well, even if its name and nature were lost to the march of time. However, to them, it was more a campfire tale than any actual historical record.
Most believed the castle had been built by an insane noble griffon who loved his isolation so much he died with it. Nestless, and alone.
In any case, while they circumvented the mountain, the Prince's troops moved into position to the south. With the recent battle being somewhat harrowing for the young noble and his followers, the bandits could not conceive so swift a retaliation, nor did they believe their location had been yet discovered.
Those troops under him weren't bothering too much to be quiet about it either. That was also part of the plan.
Though Shining had been cautious to warn them about being too obvious in their approach, rather than screaming and yelling, they should appear to be making their way up slowly, carrying siege equipment in pieces in open view for anypony who looked hard enough.
If all went according to the strategy, Gerhard's forces would assault the southern gate and the walls themselves just after being discovered. Neither gate nor walls had seen much in the way of maintenance after several centuries of abandonment.
A brief recon had shown that the delinquent squatters had not really done much more than ensure the gate portcullis was in mostly working order. The goal there was to deliver as much punishment to the structure as possible and keep the enemy pinned in with capture nets to keep them from returning the favor when the inevitable counterattack came.
Just enough danger to draw eyes away from the north, Shining and his squadron's approach.
The moment of truth would be once they passed the north face of the mountain, watch groups dotting the surface in wooden towers in lonely isolation from one another. The mercenaries were confident that nopony could, or would, launch an assault from the north without being spotted quickly, so little care was taken in installing more outposts than the bare minimum.
As his hooves passed over one of the watchtowers, he could see what they could not. That their carelessness would be a mistake.
Val Shadow-wing's soldiers had made quick and nasty work of the occupying forces that had been stationed there. He couldn't make out much in the darkness, but he could easily spot griffons pulling their dead cousins into hastily dug graves, broken bushes, and tree limbs being placed over them hurriedly.
Those shallow graves were not meant to do much more than obscure what had happened, and only for so long. Just enough to buy time for them to move past before one of the wandering patrols came upon the seemingly abandoned towers and started searching for their comrades' whereabouts.
He checked the moon again.
"Ten minutes." He breathed, and his bearer chuckled darkly.
"Ah, party time. Mind if I get a little nip before we begin?" He was beginning to think the big drake had a drinking problem.
By the time they landed on the ridge that overlooked the keep, Shining could tell his estimate was off by a fair margin. They could hear the steady crash of debris being thrown into the fortress long before they arrived.
The shouts of battle were already thick in the air.
The stallion could see the catapults whirling about to hurl their deadly payload into the air with far more speed than precision.
That was not ideal, but it was something they had expected may happen, as they had planned for the bandits to get potentially a little antsy and rush them early. In either scenario, the evidence below showed things were going according to plan, for the most part.
"Ten minutes, eh?" Chortled Vorder, lowering a flask from his beak and inhaling satisfactorily. The pony snorted in exasperation.
"They must have had to move quickly to pin them in." He muttered in response. "Somepony must have spotted them too early. But this works in either case. The Prince isn't pushing nearly as hard as he is making it seem." The white stallion noted, pointing to a few siege weapons that had yet to be put together. "Rather clever of him to make it look like they are having trouble with some of the equipment."
"Or that's real trouble." The hulking griffon remarked dryly, once again being a rain cloud of pessimism. Or as he liked to call it: “Ego checking”.
"Doesn't matter." Shining rebutted, shaking his head as he took one last look at the positions of the enemy. "Prepare your people. If they have never experienced mass teleportation before, it's likely going to be terrible for them for their first time."
Before the mission began, he had gathered the entire squadron together to inform them of what they were going to experience. Nausea, dizziness. Perhaps even dryness of the mouth should one of them have their mouth open in transit.
As it was, only fifty would be participating in the mass transition of one space for another.
Any more than that, and both Pestle and himself would be out of commission for much of the fight. That would not be ideal, as some very disturbing revelations had come to light during the planning stage for this strike.
Ponies of unknown purpose were amongst the upper echelons of the raiders' ranks. That bothered him greatly.
What was their goal? Why assist a renegade faction against the rightful ruler of this nation?
According to Gerhard's scouts, they were truly doing very little in regard to assistance as it was. Instead of participating in any clash, they provided logistical support and a means for their leaders to escape should it be needed.
Apparently, that last was needed quite a lot as reports for Gerhard's staff showed that the number of times a flash of multi-hued light was in the double digits now, always at the tail end of the battle.
Once prisoners knew that the Prince and his officers were more than aware of the rogue force of ponies' involvement in their guerilla campaign, they all but stumbled over themselves to speak on what they had seen and heard. Hoping for leniency for their crimes.
Most of what they spoke on was hearsay and their own half-formed ideas of their purpose here in Griffonian lands. However, what was known is that the leadership among the equines was severely upset with the lack of progress from their griffonian counterparts. There was constant friction between the two groups, made worse in that they were forced to cooperate with one another by a third unknown party.
What could be gathered was that the original goal was simply to drive a wedge between Bloodbeak and the rest of the ruling class. A ruler that could not even defend their nation's lands from internal strife was, for all intents and purposes, weak and unable to fulfill other obligations to their people or the ruling elite that governed them.
Gerhard supposed that a weak Griffonia would not be seen as a threat, and that might explain the ponies' presence itself.
Shining was not so sure and had a far deeper worry eating at him.
These mercenaries could indicate a larger problem, one his superiors had dismissed during his debriefs in his early days of service.
According to later captives, there was a shift in their priorities. Somepony had issued an assassination order once it was learned that Gerhard Bloodbeak had committed himself to the defense of these outlying lands.
The demands of which were becoming increasingly violent as the weeks of failed attempts continued.
From what Vorder had said, much to the Prince's chagrin, a few of those plots had nearly succeeded.
The closest, a pair of twin griffon sisters hiding among the camp followers, had slipped into his tent. Things might have gone very differently if the hulking griffon had not wandered in to share an evening drink with the young lord.
Gerhard would not allow his friend to speak on what had transpired inside, though snickering from the other officers in the command tent and the flickering of his ears indicated it was not a widely kept secret and embarrassing to boot.
Shining could infer, however, and the grin he shot toward the young noble griffon only served to heighten his temporary employer's further embarrassment.
Among the twins' possessions were a number of poisons, knives, and even an extraction tool of some sort. Both sisters were killed before they could learn of the device's purpose.
"I have to say, for a bunch of hardened warriors, they certainly had an excess of crystals on them," Pestle said with a grin.
The white stallion nodded as he helped direct the placement of powdered crystals in their sacks.
A bit of fortune fell into their lap when he expressed concern for the number of soldiers Gerhard and Vorder wanted them to transport.
In truth, his ability with teleportation was limited, incapable of taking more than one despite the magical force at his disposal, and only so far. It was a point of embarrassment for the stallion, more so that his little sister not only mastered it but figured it out for herself. While he could only cover perhaps half a city block at best, she could zip from one side of Canterlot to another.
Worse, she had pinpoint accuracy and was capable of placing individuals in the exact locations she desired.
The good news was command thought ahead and provided a pony whose skill far outstripped his own. While not as strong as himself, Pestle Break possessed the ability to teleport in spades. With them linked, he could provide all the needed strength, and she, the control. Yet that was not enough.
No pony could make a field large enough to encompass twenty or more. It took too much power, more than even he could supply.
But, there was a workaround.
Crystals, crushed and charged with the mana of a pony, could extend that field. It was a little old knowledge that was still viable today, as Starswirl the Bearded had been the one to find a way around the problem long ago. That ancient stallion of lore and mystery had supposedly spent years with trial and error.
It was yet another reminder of the pony's genius that so many tricks and processes lasted to this day.
However, if the rumor had it correct, this particular spell was discovered during an accident involving his apprentice that gave him the idea rather than years of failure. Something about seeing if lines of charged powdered crystals had an effect on the pony's body.
The final obstacle was quantity, and that was where Gerhard and his rather resourceful soldiers came into play.
"Uh, we tactically acquired it, sir." A Stabsgefreiter, or a Specialist by the name of Cardinal Wing, said after they had been provided an obscene amount of crystals by the common rank and file of the Prince's force.
The young enlisted had been chosen to represent the collection and were dodging questions as to how and, perhaps more importantly, why they had so many on hand.
"T-tactically acquired it?" Shining more mouthed the words than actually said them, but the Specialist responded anyway.
"Yes, sir."
Before he could push the interrogation further, Pestle interrupted, giggling.
"Lieutenant, I…hehe…I wouldn't ask any further. That way lies madness and a path of dead ends. Thank you, Stabsgefreiter Wing."
The griffon bowed, grinned and winked at her, and left.
Shining Armor had never been more confused.
He never did get an answer out of her of what she had meant. But now, as she was doing the final check on the lines, he thought it better to heed her advice and not badger her about it.
He traces the lines with his eyes, sometimes being interrupted by the occasional griffon walking by in hurried steps.
They were good.
Six points leading from the center to an outer ring more than wide enough to accommodate all that was going with them into the dead center of the enemy fortress itself. The waning moonlight caused the crystal powder to shimmer slightly in the darkness.
At their vantage, there was no chance the enemy could see even a sparkle.
He sighed in relief as he felt the pulse of his own magic emanate from them. Power retention had been a worry, but the strength there meant they would not have to be concerned about it.
Before they had even left camp, both Shining and Pestle had focused their mana for three days on the crushed gems, a tedious but necessary step in preparing for such a large teleportation of troops and equipment.
His teacher, back when he was a student of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, had informed him and his class that when using crystals in their spell casting, one must attune to them with their own magical resonance and take note of how long a charge can last.
It was with this knowledge in mind whenever the command was planning raids or even a full campaign, battle-class mages would spend hours inside a tent conducting the rituals while under guard from outside influence.
Those mages never entered any conflict, as they were the only ones capable of making use of the charged crystal powders themselves.
For the scale in which they were going to cast, they really only needed one day. However, Pestle thought it best not to exhaust themselves, and he agreed. With only two of them there, they couldn't afford to be too taxed in magical force, as it often had a physical drain as well.
Keeping them in fighting condition for later was a prudent plan considering the limited number of unicorns they had on hand.
"Alright, everypony into the cen-"
"We ain't ponies, chief." Called out one of the group. Getting some quiet raucous laughter from those waiting in the second phase.
"Right." Shining Armor blushed and scowled at the griffon, hoping none saw him out of countenance in the darkness. "Everyone." He amended. "Please get into the center, and do not disrupt the lines. Otherwise, no p- No one. Is going anywhere."
Knowing shadowed smiles and shaking heads greeted his consternation. Still, he shook it off and focused his mind, the horn on his head coming to life in a dull, subdued haze of blue, a technique almost exclusively taught to members of the military designed to hide their location on the battlefield and on covert missions such as this.
Pestle paused as she got to the center and turned to him. Nervousness was clear in her eyes.
"What's the problem, Specialist?" He asked, impatient yet curious to know why the sudden hesitation was halting the plan.
"Sir. I…thi-" she paused, licked her lips, and tried again. "Sir, this is my first engagement."
He wanted to smack himself. Of course, he had forgotten that of his soldiers he was about to lead on the field of battle, only Earnest Hearts had any real combat experience, serving a tour in Zegypt a year ago herself. Even Spitfire had never done much more than patrol the skies in the homeland.
"Shit." He had forgotten that he did not have a well-seasoned team under him.
"I'm afraid I had forgotten that." He said, not bothering to keep the chagrin from his voice. "You all had performed so well in the ambush at our campsite that I had not truly realized you were out of your depth here. Pestle, will you be able to perform your duties?"
"I…I believe so, sir." She did not sound confident. He frowned and carefully waded through the crowd of soldiers to her, avoiding the lines of crushed gemstone.
"Pestle Break." He said solemnly. "This is a Tartarus of a time to tell me you're getting cold hooves."
"Sorry, sir." The mare winced. "In truth, with all the preparation and rush, I didn't really think about it till now."
"You got caught up in the moment. I get it." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down and fixed her gaze with his own. "We are a team, soldier. That means I am watching your back as well as you're watching my own. Do not forget you have both Storming and Spitfire on overwatch for us. And Earnest is going to bring the fight to the enemy right next to you. You are a unit. You've trained for this, studied for this." He grinned. "Besides, who would expect what amounts to a cannon being dropped in the middle of their forces?" His smirk was mirrored with her own, though it trembled.
It was a bold plan. One, that should it work as well as Vorder claimed, might enter the standard curriculum for specialized insertions such as this in the future.
Lessons from the griffons would be hard for the command to swallow, but this might prove too good to ignore.
She nodded, slow at first. Then her head bobbed quickly. "Yes, sir. I am ready to begin."
"Good." Turning, he made his way back toward the edge of the circle. "Alright, you buckheads," Shining said with venom. He got a few raised eyebrows and smirks to go with them. "First timers of teleportation are prone to dizziness and nausea-"
"That's why you told us not to eat anything, right, Lieutenant?" Whispered one of the griffons to his left.
"Yes, and clamp that beak, soldier, or I will do it for you." That got a couple of wide eyes and unsure shuffling of armored paws. Until now, he had been rather easygoing with many of them. But, with the coming of battle, he needed them serious, and if they were unsure of him now, it would mean their guard would remain up for the fight ahead.
"Keep your mouth shut, and breathe through your nose." They had gone over this ad nauseam already, but with the enlisted, it never hurt to remind them again. "Are we ready?"
As his eyes swept across the assembled griffonian soldiers, grim determination met his gaze.
"Pestle Break, you may begin when ready."
"FUCKIN' TARTARUS!" Olga shrieked as she dodged yet another boulder of rough-hewn stone as it crashed just a pace away from her position behind a dilapidated storehouse built into the northern side of the ancient castle.
The impact crushed the supporting wall and new, hastily thrown-up timber, spraying it all about in an arc that caused her to throw up her arms in panic.
The hen dove for cover behind a stack of crates to avoid the worst of the shrapnel. Her brow already bore the cut of a previous attempt by the falling rocks to end her.
Tonight had not been a good night for the gray-brown griffon.
Bored and tired of waiting for her leaders to give her and her fellow bandits' orders and wishing to hide away from any work detail she might be snared into, she had decided to head into the south tower at the behest of Anton. The roguish lithe griffon she had been trying to catch in her net since she met him had finally noticed her.
However, instead of a night alone with the tall and handsome drake, she had been subjected to humiliation at being offered a spot at the card table rather than a secluded bed somewhere.
Turns out, Anton doesn't like hens, or any type of female, for that matter. Half the time, he was too busy with his beak in the neck of a drake she had seen but never gotten to know and now loathed with all the hatred Tartarus held within.
Her mother may be right. She might very well be destined to die alone chasing after tail.
It hurt. Like someone had taken a dull knife and drove it slowly into her chest. Olga had only remained because she did not wish to be seen as weak and emotional. That kind of shit could be preyed upon by others if word got out.
So she stayed, playing hand after hand while watching the display of near eroticism before her and trying not to cry about it.
That agony was replaced by an all-new one roughly an hour later when during a deal, a large boulder crashed right through the tower, crushing Anton, his unnamed lover, and Torgun, the only Paraton in the entire bandit force who had been their dealer for the evening.
The attack sent debris everywhere, including a coin bit, which embedded itself into her forehead just above her eye.
Three others that had managed not to be turned into a paste with her all managed to dive out of the way as the projectile brought down a good portion of the floor above onto them.
Slowly and with a lot of coughing and groaning, the survivors rose from the detritus and dusted themselves off before looking at each other with almost comical shock.
The sounds of battle cries reached their ears, and they collectively peeked out to see a host of armored griffons, siege equipment, and the colors of the Royal Prince of Griffonia prominently displayed amongst them.
"What the fuck?"
Jakob had said it would be weeks before the royal jackass could mount so much as a patrol, let alone an assault force. In fact, it was well known that the Heir to the crown had not even known where they were holed up at.
Or at least not yet.
Clearly, that was never the case, as she watched in mounting horror as another volley of stone was lobbed their way and quickly scrambled out of the tower as two more reduced the structure to complete destruction.
Recovering from her dive behind what was left of the fortress parapet, she witnessed her comrades attempt to take to the air to rain arrows from a high position in the sky, only to be brought down in capture nets. Some of those were on fire as they shrieked in terror as the flaming braided ropes wrapped around them, bringing them to the ground with a sickening crunch.
This battle would be, unfortunately, waged on the ground, it seemed.
Her comrades in coin mustered on the wall, half-dressed and in panic. Manning barely working mounted ballistas and longbows, they returned fire as best they could. The hope was that their own counterassault would slow, or even stop, some of those rugged rocks and flaming nets from reaching them again.
Despite the siege, they still held the advantage in both numbers, and the elevated fortification of the ancient keep afforded them. But now, as she dodged yet another missile that crashed mere paces away, Olga was beginning to not be so confident in what leadership had told her and her fellows. The Prince had clearly thought this through and had planned accordingly.
Yet, something bothered her.
The hen was no tactician, leaving that headache to her betters, but there was a wrongness in the air.
Looking to the sky, she noticed a distinct lack of enemy combatants in the skies above. That was what was wrong, as normal tactics dictated that if you had air supremacy with equipment, you could field troops in the air with little worry of interception from your opponents.
Normally, when she had been forced to attack a fort, they would launch squadrons of flyers to drop flaming torches and snipe at officers to sow chaos amongst the ranks. That was what was expected, even on the battlefield.
However, no one was in the air. Were they afraid of getting their own caught in the nets?
A bright blue and purple flash from behind, and the sounds of multiple people retching, brought her musings short and caused her mouth to run dry with fear. What new terror had the Prince come up with?
Yanking her sword from her sheath, a weapon she was grateful hadn't been lost in her desperate bid to escape being crushed to death, she spun around and gaped.
Before her, was a host of griffons bearing the Royal Crest of the Prince on the breast, two wings in flight wrapped around the sword and heart in a deep red that almost blended into the blackened armor.
Amongst them were ponies. Two of which looked a little winded, horns just barely aglow with whatever they had just done.
"How-" she was caught off guard, and her question as a big griffon stepped forward and thrust a fat blade into her middle so fast she only could only vaguely understand that she had been dealt a killing blow. Only the cold steel of the weapon indicated that something was truly very bad just happened to her.
"Sorry about this, but war and all, you know?" Came his deep baritone voice, not sounding the bit apologetic and hushed in the rack and din of the battle beyond the walls. Twisting his hand, he withdrew the weapon, and her whole world turned to agony as the distant feeling of being pierced came crashing down upon her. Toppling backward, she lost the grip on her blade in favor of attempting to hold her guts inside.
The one who had stabbed her turned away from her as if she no longer existed for him. If not for the fire ripping through her belly, she might have been insulted.
"Alright, you gaggle of feather dusters!" His utterances rang in her ears like a gong. It seemed to her that infiltration was no longer the name of the game for this group. "You all know your assignments. Get to it! SHINING! Are you two ready to…"
His voice became strangely muted. In fact, all noise faded out as she lay there in the blood and dirt of the ancient cobblestone street. Her life slowly leaking past her claws.
Sluggishly, her eyes turned skyward to the stars. Tears stained the edges of her eyes and cascaded down her face.
"Momma was…right…"
"What in the bloody Tartarus is going on!?" Emil Swordbeak shouted as another crash of boulder against ancient stone shook the foundations of the keep.
The long-beaked griffon stalked through the halls, keeping a clawed hand dragging against the stone wall in case of another strike against the outer exterior. He would not be knocked on his ass again.
In truth, he knew exactly what was going on. The Prince, the very target of their time here, was currently doing something they never thought he would be able to do, especially after that last fight that left both sides heavily wounded.
How did the brat have that quick a turnaround?
Had he feigned greater injury than before?
Did his father send reinforcements, and no word arrived from their own source in the capital to warn them?
Could he have been actually thinking tactfully from the very beginning and hid his true numbers in some way?
Questions that would be for later, should he survive the night. Right now, what was truly important was to get to Them.
It was a strange partnership he and his fellows had developed with the Sundown Syndicate, though not by choice. A group of unicorn mercenaries he had been advised to retain by his own benefactor. It was more or less forced upon him to take them on, and Rosebreast would not take no for an answer.
The bitch never took no for an answer.
She shared in their disgust for not just working with outlanders, and ponies of any breed, though many of his troops came from all across the world themselves. Yet, she had to point out the usefulness of having someone capable of getting the upper echelons of command out of trouble should the need arise.
Sadly, that need seemed to be again today. He hated when her caution was proven warranted. It meant he couldn't balk later when she suggested something even more erroneous later.
"Blind fucking luck is what it is."
Taking the spiraling staircase that ascended to a short bastion two at a time, he arrived before a thick iron door that seemed brand new.
It might as well have been. Since the unicorns had taken residence in this section of the keep, it and its surroundings have taken on new life.
The stone was no longer pitted and crumbling but looked like they had been freshly cut and brought in just yesterday for placing. The same went for the wood supports and scones set high on the wall. Splinters and rust were simply gone.
More infuriating than the fact it was known they used magic to do it, no one had seen a thing happen till a guard reported it in on their morning patrol the very next day.
"Sneaky fucking hornheads!"
Emil had tried bargaining, even willing to pay a pretty hefty price if they would do so for the rest of the castle. The idea of having a permanent fortress of his own was just too appealing. And the vague dreams of carving out a territory himself drove him to ask.
That, of course, was met with derisive laughter and a "no".
He growled as his fist pounded on the door with renewed anger at being reminded that despite everything, very little in the way of "help" came from them.
"What do you want?!" Came a mare's voice from beyond the layer of metal between them. Even muffled as it was, he knew the voice of Terra Burn. The silver-furred pony with a red mane had often ridiculed his leadership in front of his subordinates with gleeful abandon.
Just his luck.
Emil Swordbeak glowered at the iron door, despite knowing she likely could not see.
"Terra Burn, the keep is under attack. I would think even you hornheads would have figured that out by now!" He shouted, anger boiling over for the moment.
A dark chuckle greeted him. "We are aware." That was far too calm a reply, and his heated blood quickly chilled.
Hesitantly, he began his pitch, fear worming inside his belly. "S-so I trust that the only reason you've decided not to assist in our mutual defense…is because you are making ready to teleport the entirety of our command from here should it be needed to actually come to it?" Emil hated that his voice sounded less commanding than it did.
The issue was that the bulwark of the ancient fortress would not hold for long against the onslaught of the Prince's siege. He knew that, and those with more sense than the common rabble amongst his soldiers knew that.
With capture nets occasionally being tossed up to snare any sorties he wanted to try sending out to disrupt the attack, he was left with very little to counter back with. Thus it was with hope and a hefty amount of the gold bits from his personal chest that he had paid these horned rats that he might at least procure a way out for himself and his closest commanders.
He could always find more bandits to snare with promises of riches and plunder. But he could not replace himself so easily.
"Oh yes, we most certainly are." His hopes rose. "However, not for you." Came the laughing voice of the mare bitch.
"How are you feeling, Pestle?" Shining asked as he steadied the soldier with a hand, his other already wielding his blade as his eyes swept for danger.
"Dizzy, sir. But that's not unexpected. I will need-" she was interrupted by a shout from Vorder.
The griffon was coming toward them, looking no worse for wear. Behind him, on the ground, he could see a hen weeping and clutching at her middle. Her eyes seemed to scream "why" when they landed on his own. He shut himself off from the emotions that welled within him. It was a difficult thing for him. This was always the hardest part of the job, ignoring the sufferings of your enemy.
"You all know your assignments. Get to it! SHINING! Are you two ready to do…uh, whatever the fuck you said you could do?!" The big drake bore a pained grimace on his face. That emotion was likely not due to the slowly dying griffon behind him but from his lack of understanding of the next step.
During the brief, they discussed what they had planned to do once inside the keep. If it was true, and the enemy had ponies working with them, then Shining and Pestle Break would disrupt any chance of escape by sending a ripple along the ley lines in the area. It was temporary, likely only lasting a couple of hours at best, as that was all they could afford. However, it would disrupt any major spells from being performed. Spells such as mass teleportation.
The downside was that they, too, would be limited in the same fashion. Even simple castings would need more effort. But Shining wanted to capture these ponies. Needed to capture these ponies.
Part of that need was the fact that this had happened before. In Zebrica. Rumors and whispers of rumors of unicorns assisting the enemy in some fashion. Despite his reports of these allegations, command wrote them off as hearsay and would not investigate further. The white stallion was determined to prove his suspicions true, that a malevolent organization of ponies was out in the world working against the interests of Equestria itself.
He would have his answers. He would!
"Yes, Vorder, we are ready. Pestle? Is the spell in place?" Turning his gaze from the stricken hen on the ground, he looked to the mare whose horn was already shining.
"Yes, sir. Just needs the power to supply it." She frowned. "I think we need to hurry. I'm detecting wave patterns in the ley lines already."
"Shit. They must have begun the moment Gerhard attacked." Shining growled. "Vorder! Be ready to hit the walls! Will handle the rest!"
"ALLLL RIGHT!" Shouted the big griffon, grinning in that weird way only their beaks could do. "COME ON BOYS! LETS GO HAVE US SOME FUN!"
Gesturing, he took the air as squads, with predetermined roles already given, broke off and away toward the southern bulwark. Those that remained behind with the ponies readied their weapons and spread out.
This night was about to get long.
