Red Moon Rising

Nightmare stands in the room built for Luna, looking over the mysterious sheet of paper that was left on her bed the previous night, which she had ignored in favor of sleep. The paper is covered in writing, but it is very messy, with very poor penmanship overall, looking as if it’s some type of list. The words, in addition, are written in another language, which, after a few minutes of looking it over, Nightmare is able to determine to be Griffish. She folds up the sheet of paper and looks outside as the sun rises, still raised by Celestia’s magic despite her having ran away, and gives a small grin to herself, muttering, “Griffonia it is.”

She turns back to face the same mirror as she did the previous day, looking over her armor and sighing. With a single flash of her horn, the chainmail changes to become fabric, stretching itself and molding to suit her form until it finalizes, a dark blue formal dress now covering her, the mare looking slightly foreign outside of her armor. Then, in another flash of magic, her helmet begins to move like liquid up her head, gathering and hardening to form a tiara around her head, with a massive sapphire at the front of it. She looks at herself, now dressed like a proper Queen, and snorts, muttering, “I look ridiculous.” She then reaches up, rubbing her hands against her tiara, pumping them with magic and slowly shaping curved spikes that come out of the tiara and curve towards the center of her head. She smirks once she’s finished eight of them, each one decorated with smaller sapphires, “That’s better.” Then, with another flash of magic, she disappears.

It’s a busy day in the capital city of Griffonia, Griffonheim, with griffons of all sorts walking and flying around it’s stone streets, trading goods with one another, reporting to their workplaces, bypassing the many street beggars around and giving respectful nods to any heavily armored Griffonian Ritters, the Knights of the Empire liking to wear their armor as they walk around just to get some extra respect and some discounts at stores. In the center of the town is a massive palace which towers above any surrounding buildings, built with thick stone walls, small windows, and in a dark tan color, one could easily confuse the palace for a fortress, but the palace is built to serve both purposes, able to be defended easily during times of war and elsewise being used as a residence for the Griffonian Emperor.

In the streets of the city appears Nightmare in a flash of blue, a few surrounding griffons squawking at her sudden appearance, but quickly shutting up and continuing on with their day upon seeing her. She just grins slightly, looking up at the palace and quickly moving there, a bit of magic keeping her dress from getting dirtied by the streets. Whispers break out behind her between gossiping hens and curious cocks, all eyes following her as she walks, as a few armored griffons spread their wings and fly back to the palace.

As she nears the palace, Nightmare comes to a sudden stop, hearing a little cling noise from beside her. She looks to the noise, seeing an elderly Griffon sitting on the side of the streets, both of his eyes milky white and staring off into the distance, his feathers greying and dirty. He raises a shaky talon, which is missing two claws, shaking around a small metal cup which it holds, his voice speaking dryly, “Bits for a war veteran? I just need to buy lunch.”

She frowns slightly, taking a glance at the palace, but then looking back at the older Griffon, kneeling down in front of him, “A war veteran? I would expect you to be taken care of, not out on the streets begging. What war?”

The old Griffon chuckles dryly, which devolves into coughs, the elder covering his beak before shaking his head, speaking creakily, “I expected I would be taken care of too, Miss. Not like I signed up to die just to become a beggar. It was the Third Conflict, Miss, not like there’s been any other wars. Damn Minotaur just couldn’t be happy.”

She nods slightly, and then leans closer, looking at his eyes, “You’re blind, I can see. Looks like a sharp weapon of some sort cut just close enough, or perhaps crushed your helmet in such a way that it cut into the front of them. You say a Minotaur… was it an axe, perhaps, old veteran?”

He grins slightly, “You see? I don’t!” He then chuckles again, once more devolving into coughs, taking a minute to recover before clearing his throat, answering her, “Minotaur axe, I deflected it with my sword and tried to pull back, last thing I saw was the edge of it. Then, just… dark.”

She nods again, as a bag of coins is thrown into the beggar’s cup. She looks to her side, where a figure stands. He’s an even older Griffon than the veteran, easily in his late eighties, wearing a white cloak and hat, his feathers having turned so grey from age that they almost blend in to his cloak. The elder has a long wooden cane in one of his talons, using it to keep himself up, amber eyes looking at Nightmare with much wisdom behind them. He smiles softly at her, “Nightmare Moon.”

She looks back at him, and then back at the veteran, who’s milky eyes have widened a bit, “Relax, let me help you.” Her hands then light up blue and she reaches up, covering his eyes with the palms of her hands, and sending a small blast of magic into either of them. She pulls her hands back then as the Griffon blinks, his eyes turning from milky white into a bright blue, his eyes now slitted like hers, the Griffon looking at her in awe.

Nightmare then stands up, turning to face the newcomer, “Yes, I am Nightmare Moon. What of it?”

The Griffon gives her a small grin, “I am Archon Jesuit Eros, most faithful of Boreas, I’ve come to make sure you get to the palace without much trouble. I must say, I did not expect to find you healing an old veteran. It would seem like the tales have painted an incorrect version of you.”

She grins slightly, “The tales were written by my enemies, Archon Eros, you would do well to remember that. Take me to the Emperor, I would have words with him. Or her, if the succession has led that way.”

Eros nods to her and turns around, beginning to walk along, using his cane to support his steps, “I’m afraid the Emperor won’t be up for meeting quite yet, he is currently learning mathematics. Ah. I forgot you wouldn’t know.” He looks back at her, “The Emperor is just twelve, a Regency Council rules in his stead, and I am one of the ones on that council.”

She nods along with him and follows along, “So you, and your fellow regents, would be the ones to blame for the state of your griffons, I can see.” She frowns slightly, “You left a blinded veteran on the streets of your capital city, Archon.”

The old Griffon just nods, turning to look ahead as he walks, his cane clicking with each step, “Yes, but if only it were that simple, Nightmare. The Empire is short on bits, if we spent any on the old veteran, those would be bits not spent on repairing the old capital of Griffonstone, or the farming centers of Brodfeld or Prywhen, and then, no matter how many bits we give that veteran, he would starve. Do we have the bits to spare? Yes, but we can hardly agree upon where to put them. The Archonate only has one voice in the Council, but Lady Gabriela of Lushi and Field Marshal Dawnclaw of Prywhen have their own voices. One wishes to aid the commoners, being us, the Archonate, another wishes to aid the industrialists and bigger businesses, the Lady of Lushi, and the Field Marshal wishes to go on a crusade against the Minotaur in revenge.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You lost against the Minotaur? How far must this Empire have fallen since my banishment, that the twice defeated Minotaur could finally defeat you. What happened to the Griffonia of old, the center of innovation, of riches, second only to Equestria proper? Where are your shining knights with shining guns?”

He just shakes his head, “They’re gone, Nightmare, slowly removed one by one over millennia. Innovation stopped all over once we signed the Cain Accords, that no nation shall invent weaponry more deadly than any other nation without first getting it approved, and our civilian technology is limited by understanding of the world. Our money has long been funneled to the nobles of the realm, to the already rich merchants, and to the Minotaur lands, who took our investments and then stabbed us with them. Griffonia has declined, but perhaps the 31st century shall be the Griffonian rebirth, under the clever mind of Grover the Tenth, and perhaps with your help.”

She grins slightly, looking around as they enter the grand imperial palace, walking into it, past a gate guarded by heavily armored griffons carrying halberds, looking at paintings lining the main hallway of the palace, “You wasted no time jumping to asking for help, Archon. One might question the eagerness with which you suggested a want for my help.”

Eros nods, coming to a stop and looking at a specific portrait, tapping the wall underneath it with his cane, “This is Emperor Grover the First, victor of the First Conflict, only able to do it due to your father’s sacrifice and Equestrian blood. He became Emperor of Griffonia because the Pegasi, Commander Katherina, Cloudsdale, the city that is now part of Equestria, killed Emperor Ascendant of Romau. Griffonstone was only able to survive the attacks from Pompneigh due to Prench fire mages, on loan from Equestria. And his great grandson, Grover the Second, was only able to win the Second Conflict due to Equestrian medicine and Equestrian volunteers. Prince Gwyndolin of Brodfeld was only able to gain power and give the Kingdom over to Grover because of a squad of Equestrian soldiers. We would not exist without Equestria, Nightmare.”

Nightmare nods along with his explanation, leaning against the wall and giving him a grin, “So you wouldn’t exist without us, that means that my help is valuable to you all. But what do you offer in return, Archon? When have the Griffons been the saviors of Equestria?”

He looks over at her, and gives her a slow nod, “Without Griffons, Nightmare, no country would exist to begin with. You were but a filly back then, but the history books show that in the earliest days of the world, there was no country, and no nation, merely cities and villages equally likely to fight as they were to trade. That is, of course, until the Romauian Empire, the first country to span multiple cities, and multiple groups. If Romau had not created the standard for what a kingdom, or a country, was, then would you all have created Equestria? If Romau had not studied the sciences, agriculture, transportation, construction, and created iron tools, would Equestria have been created? If it was not for holy Griffonian knights holding their ground, the western Necromancers would have conquered Zebrica. Equestria would be a mass graveyard given over to dark magics.”

She pauses, and thinks over his words, nodding along with them, “So in your mind, Equestria and Griffonia are in a symbiosis, we both aid each other in ways that others cannot. But there is a problem with speaking in history, Archon, it’s that what Equestria used to be, and what Equestria will be are massively different. I am willing to give my aid to Griffonia, but what shall Equestria get in return?”

He smiles softly to her, “We will offer you protection, protection from Celestia. She will not take your leadership lightly, and eventually she will return. When she returns, everyone will support her, the Zebras and the Minotaur, they will provide material, men, and money. We help you take care of Celestia, when she returns, and you help us rebuild. And once the Empire is back to how it once was, perhaps then we can help protect against further attacks. You are a smart mare, Nightmare, and our interests, Griffonia, Equestria, the Archonate, and you, they all align.” He offers her a talon, looking into her eyes.

She looks back into his eyes, looking away for a minute, then giving herself a small nod. She straightens up her posture, reaching out and shaking his talon, “I agree to this, Archon. Let us not hope I will regret it.” She then lets go and reaches down, taking the sheet of paper out of a pocket in her dress, giving it to him, “I found this in my bedroom this morning, Archon. Can you translate it?”

He looks at the paper and then takes it, looking it over, “Well, this was written by a hatchling, judging by the writing, almost no structure to it at all. But, from what I can tell, Nightmare, this is a grocery list. Or, rather, a shopping list. The only legible entries are ‘pool noodle’ and ‘mirror demon’. I’m afraid that is all I can provide.” He hands it back to her.

She takes it, and then gives him a nod, “I thank you for trying. I must dismiss myself, I have things to take care of in my realm.”

He nods once more, “Until we meet again, Nightmare.” And, in a flash of blue light in front of him, she disappears.