The Gray Dames

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

***

In the damp shade of Everfree Forest, amid all the creepy, crawling animals, and menacing shapes, a creature whimpered. The light from the stars and from the moon barely reached through the trees and the darkness hid threats and promised doom. A sad and pitiful sound came from beneath the vines holding onto a thick tree. A fire had carved a gallery inside the trunk and the cavity made for a cramped, but secluded spot behind the curtain of vines. A hiding place for a creature that wanted to be away from everyone and everything.

The humidity made for an uncomfortable refuge, and the gasses of the swamp smelled of rot, but it was good enough. In her feverish, desperate flight she had at least found a reasonable hole to hide. The natural Chaos of Everfree Forest disturbed magic in strange, unpredictable ways. It would shield her presence from any scrying attempt. For better or worse, it prevented anyone from finding her until she was ready to leave. If she would ever.

Celestia’s routine had become agonizingly exhausting. Startling awake, panicking and panting, scanning the still and dark water through the gaps among the vines. Jumping at every little noise, movement, or ripple of the swampy water surrounding her tree. Only to then fall asleep again, so exhausted she was.

Eventually it came to a point her body had accrued enough energy she wouldn’t fall asleep again within minutes. Instead, she crammed herself at the back of her damp, sooty chamber inside the dead tree. All joints in her body rattled every couple of seconds. Large, white wings covering her face, a small whiny escaped her again. They were everywhere, sure to find her at any second now.

But the hours passed, and nothing happened. Frogs croaked, insects buzzed and a timberwolf howled eventually. It became patently obvious there were no changelings outside to stick her inside a pod. No griffons shot at her with fancy weapons and no murderous ancient griffon goddess entered through the hole on the tree, smiling like someone’s conceited mother.

As her tired mind recovered its faculties, Celestia came to terms that no one was coming to get her. That the dwelling creatures of Everfree probably feared her enough they’d keep hundreds of hooves between them and her tree. They knew to avoid the area just because of the powerful magic she radiated. That the Harpy, dangerous as she was, was not actively hunting her. That her loyal Royal Guards were not all changelings in disguise. That there must be a reason Luna didn’t respond to her attempts at reaching her and that Discord didn’t abandon her. Neither had Twilight and Cadance or their friends. In reality, Celestia had the upper hoof, as she knew what her opponent’s strategy was. And she had good reasons to believe the Harpy was not even aware Celestia had learned of her existence.

She was alone, though. Her muscles relaxed and her wide, trembling eyes softened. Glistening tears pooled under her eyes before they rolled down her cheeks. Chocolate Velvet was gone. All the others might eventually return to her when the disaster the griffons had created was resolved. But he would not. He had laid down his life for her. Her goofy, adoring knight was gone. Killed by a particularly vulgar and disrespectful griffon criminal, travestied as a hero of Griffinkind. Ultimately, another victim of the vile Cult of The Harpy.

All salt to rub on Celestia’s wound. That she had trusted the would-be noble griffon king only for him to employ such a caliber of agents. He to whom Celestia had given her significant support to become the griffon king. All along, another puppet in a war older than time itself. Another weapon wielded against Celestia. Her good intentions themselves served her enemy.

It all seemed so obvious in retrospect. The hatred against the hippogriffs. All the resistance against any attempt to assist the northerner griffons. Thousands of years ago, when Celestia decided to honor Empress Geneviere’s request to leave them alone, their gallant defense of the northerner lands hid a backhoof slap of the likes Celestia hadn’t felt in a while. She fell on a trap which sprung millennia later, and she waited for it, sitting like a duck.

Anger like she hadn’t felt in a while filled her. Her chest turned into a furnace fueled with shards of her broken heart. But she reigned in those feelings. They wouldn’t serve her more than also fueling her paranoia.

One hoof to her chest, breathe in. Stretch it out, breathe out. The gesture didn’t wash away the anger, much less the sorrow or the shame, but it helped Celestia focus. Center her mind on the problem at hoof and what she could do about it. How to fight it.

A long sigh escaped the princess and her ears went limp. She understood she had suffered some sort of mental breakdown. Luna would understand it better. So would Chocolate Velvet. He’d call it a psychotic episode, or something like that, while Luna would go on about memory loops, sentience routines run amok and how stupid it was for Celestia to trigger that spell. Then Luna would hug Celestia, and Chocolate would hold them. Ultimately, all Celestia was left with was the unsettling, intimidating feeling in the wake of her mind recovering from such a break from reality.

The realization brought to her another facet of her present reality: she must do something. She had been dealt a crippling blow in more ways than most would understand, but The Mare was resourceful. As deteriorated as the situation had become, she was still as sharp as she always was. The lanky, streetwise little pegasus on the streets of Everfree still lived. Under the shadows of the ruins of the Old Republic, before she had effectively become Mommy Equestria, little Sunny Days could run circles around any Blueblood guard or Brightmane officer. She had defeated The Harpy, not once, but twice. She would defeat her again.

A frown found its way into her brow. She may have become a little too soft. Fortunately, she never became dull minded. Gentle? Yes. Defenseless? Not ever. One didn’t raise to her position without understanding things like the power of proper planning. And that included having alternatives. Already ideas popped into her mind, even as she hid inside a dead tree.

She… Could stay there for just a while longer, though.

If anything, Celestia knew what the music was she needed to dance. The Harpy meant to fragment her powerbase and use ancient magic to destroy her. Ancient magic most no longer understood except for herself and her enemy. Well, two could play that game. If Hairball had a million fanatical griffons to power her magic, Celestia could find ponies a million times over. It was all a matter of taking the right steps.

Manehattan. There were much more ancient things in there than the foundations of the largest pony city. Much more dangerous, and useful, than myths of sewergators. Ironically, it was the same place Twilight and Cadance were headed to. While Celestia couldn’t precise how many days had passed since their escape, if they hadn’t already arrived, they would soon. Hopefully, Manehattan’s local militia could be trusted to apprehend Celestia’s wayward princesses and help her deal with the whole situation.

It may turn out to be a small blessing, but Celestia must be careful. How far had The Harpy sunk her talons into her world? A large griffon community lived in Manehattan and they would get in her way. They would be a danger to Twilight and Cadance, and Celestia could not allow them to fall in the Harpy’s paws. Confused as Cadance was about her origins and curious as Twilight always was, they didn’t understand the danger.

Celestia pursed her lips and stood. Head low, stretching her neck. Her head poked out between the leafy vines, and she quickly scanned the dark swamp. Just to be sure no murderous griffons or sneaky changelings waited outside. A deep breath and some brave thoughts followed. She needed to get her shaking hooves under control. The Harpy was not watching her, and Celestia had places to go and ponies to see before she could mount a counterattack.

She forced her shaking hoof out through a fog of fear and apprehension. Plodding into the shallow water, nothing attacked her. Her eyes darted every which way, but nothing happened. A deep breath came before she took another shaky step. And another. Her entire body quaked as her mind flooded with terrible images of hunting griffons and cocky changelings. But no griffons swept down from the sky to rend her flesh apart and none of the shadows turned into a changeling ready to make her into a love farm.