Chapters Prologue
So low was the sun that its light could only touch the sky, cladding the land in an eerie shadow. The battlefield was oiled slick with the bile and blood of griffons and ponies of all types. Many griffons were circling in the sky like vultures waiting to feed, a sign of who the victor of battle was.
Clad in golden armor the power hungry sun princess of Old Equestria looked over the dead of the battle field, her back turned impertinently to the first emperor and father of the great griffon family.
“Your armies have fallen and the elements are already lost, surrender the sun Princess, we will bring peace and harmony back to Equestria.” Silence was his only answer. “Answer me Celestia! Surrender, let no more the blood of our combined people be shed for a silly throne and title.” Still no answer, “Confound your stubbornness woman; How much more must Equestria suffer?!”
“The sun will never bow to you! This was a useless war of your doing.” The princess responded without even a glance over her shoulder.
“Useless?! We fought for our people for harmony, you fought for you.” The griffon emperor flailed his wing up in declaration. “As of now you, and your little ponies, are spoils of war! Every pony that lives today will have to earn their freedom. In this way they will give back to Equestria what you and your kind corrupted.”
“And what would you do with me?” still she did not turn around.
“Still only worried about your flank! Well, there is little use this country will have with a dead princess.”
A young changeling named Entomon was watching the community play reenacting the defeat of Princess Celestia. The play made her seem like some selfish ruler disconnected from her people and the emperor some kind of savor of the land.
‘History is written by the victors’ as they say.
“150 years have passed” the narrator bellowed to the crowed, “the Great Griffon families have kept their promise and Equestria has never been so prosperous!” cheers and whistle enveloped the air around Entomon. Because of this he never heard the shuffling of talons and paws as a local guard approached him.
“Entomon!” The griffon yelled as he grasped the changeling by the back of his neck. “Don’t suppose Hephaestus is here with you?” asked the guard as he lifted him up to look at him eye to eye. Everyone knew who Entomon was, the only changeling slave who did not take an alternate shape when out in public, this did Entomon no favors as his love for theater kept getting him in trouble. Luckily for Entomon most of the guards knew, and owed, his master as he was one of the local black smiths.
Entomon antenna like ears drop, “No, I wanted to see the evening plays.” He answered in a defeated voice.
The guard was already flapping his wings to take off, “Well so did I, but thanks to you, I have to miss the other shows dragging your rear back to your master.” Entomon was small enough for the griffon to fly and carry him, he had his own wings but he wasn’t about to make this any easier for the guard. As they flew over the rooftops of Canterlot was mentally preparing himself for another of Hephaestus berating.
Canterlot’s population is made mostly of griffons, few however flew through skies; this was common in larger cities like Canterlot. Due to the higher population midflight collision was a major problem; griffons are essentially birds, so it doesn’t take much to break a wing or a neck. So there was only other guards and tourist flying though the skies on a regular basis.
The distant clanging told the young changeling that their trip almost over with. Unlike most of the homes around Hephaestus’, it was made of mud coated wood to handle the extreme heat that his work gave off. His master’s home was also on the outskirts of town so that if a fire would start it was less likely to burn the town down.
They soon landed in front of his work station and the clanging stopped as an older griffon, blemished with age, stormed out more like an angry bear than a bird. Everything about Hephaestus was large, his wings his talons and legs his neck, even his voice and every ounce of it was muscle, it would be a astonish thing to see a bird his size fly. To call him intimidating was an understatement.
Due to some accident, before Entomon’s time, Hephaestus’ tongue was severely burned so his speech pattern was a little off, “Where did you find him dis time?”
“The public theater just like last time and the time before that”, responded the guard tossing Entomon at the old griffon’s talons. “We can’t just bring him back every time he breaks curfew. You need to control him he’s too young of a slave to be let out after a certain hour.”
“Entomon is more honest dan most griffons, besides he wouldn’t get very far, who in town doesn’t know Entomon.” responded Hephaestus.
“I know and I agree, but the law is the law. You should have been fined nearly ten times and this insect should have been whipped.” the guard pointed a talon at the blacksmith, “As his owner his action reflects on you.” He then started to take off, “You need to remember that!” he yelled as he flew away.
Entomon was still sitting there at his masters talons; his head hung low his ears flatten to his head. “Just go inside I’ll deal with you after I work dis order.” Hephaestus said to the cowering changeling. Hephaestus didn’t even look at him as Entomon made his way to the house
Entomon trekked up a flight of stairs to the room he shared with the other slave the blacksmith owned. As soon as he made it to his bed and collapsed into it, a familiar pop resonated in the room.
“Wow, you’ve been getting in trouble even more than me lately.” Entomon glanced up at his roommate. Entomon was not the only changeling in town, but there was no other slave like Nero. Then again there was no other draconequus like Nero ether. Most of his kind was too rare and too powerful to even get near much less to become a spoil of war or trade. Nero however was small and stout unlike his snake like brothers, in fact he was just as tall as Entomon, and he was a one trick draconequus; all he could do was teleport so compare that to the average unicorn, Nero looked pretty meek.
“That’s only because Hephaestus hasn’t let you out since you pulled that prank on the grain seller” Responded Entomon raising his head.
“Hey that guy should thank me!” Nero teleported to the other side of the bed, “that pony was selling beer instead of grains for weeks; he’s never been so popular.”
Entomon response was laced with annoyance “You were lucky. The only reason you weren’t punished and Hephaestus fined was because the stall owner was a pony.” he knew Hephaestus would talk with him soon maybe even beat him; he was in no mood for Nero teasing.
“Oh please, like a few whips to the back would faze me, I have been through worse helping Hephaestus in the forge. My entire body’s a callus!” Entomon rolled his eyes, with almost no pupil it was an expression missed by most.
“So they found you at another play?” Entomon nodded “don’t know why you keep risking trouble over those things, there tons of drama going on right here. Did you hear about that pony family whose house burned down?”
Voices, so many voices; you couldn’t make out a single word that was being said. Sitting in the middle of this vortex of squawking arguments and curses being flung across the room sat three very scared foals.
“ENOUGH!! I will have order; or I avow I'll have you all plucked and shaved!” the commanding voice came from a griffon whose demeanor was more lion than eagle. The room calmed to his demand. “I grow weary of your squawks.” The griffon that has captured the room was Romulus, first son the current emperor.
“The parents of these foals owned three separate griffons a debt,” the intimidating griffon began explaining, “the loan was used to open there own trade. Which became a success and soon their debt was to be paid, however all of their assets, along with their lives, were lost in a fire. Normally the children would have been ether given to surviving family members or to an orphanage, but one of the griffons that the before mention ponies owed have requested that the foals be sold into slavery to pay the family debt. These foals were born to free parents and therefore they are also free but not old enough to make their own decision. Every citizen of Equestria has the option to relieve themselves to slavery as a way to pay a debt or better their lives, like that of the poor or uneducated. Also a citizen can be sold as a slave without their consent under certain circumstances, like paying a family debt, which is exactly what is happening to these foals. This conflict of law is what has brought the three foals in front of the city’s highest court."
Unfortunately for the foals Romulus cared not for a single pony in the kingdom. While a free citizen was as good as any griffon in the eye of the people and the government, prejudges ways of thinking still ran amuck in the royal family so there was few representatives for any other citizens, besides griffons, forcing most ponies to live as second class citizens or less.
“I will ONLY here a few arguments and then I’ll move to a decision. Is that clear?” Romulus bellowed, “Servilia I give the first augment to you.”
The griffon that was called upon was very contrasting to Romulus. There was the great griffon family, which descended from warlords and generals, and then there were the aristocrats, who hail from artiest, politicians, educators and other position of both power and culture. Servilia was the very example of these differences, while Romulus features made him look fierce at all times; humbling most in his presence, Servilia has soft feathers and fluffy fur on her lions end, her beak was pointed rather than curved, she was small for a griffon, her eyes were wide and seemed to have its own light in them. Over all she seems to be half dove rather than half eagle.
“Thank you honored prince. Fellow griffons of this court 150 years ago our first emperor took the right to rule promising a return of harmony in Equestria. Ponies were made to earn back there freedom in order to bring this about, to condemn these foals to slavery after their parents earn their freedom would be a step backwards and an insult to the great griffon family,” Servilia knew it wasn’t the court but Romulus that she needed to win the argument with. “This is a conflict of law, so our choice is not spelled out here; we must ask ourselves what kind of citizens are we? Do we reflect the prosperity and harmony that was known as the Twilight Age 300 years ago? Or are we the Equestria that was falling apart 150 years ago that only war could fix?” Her trap was set; if Romulus ruled against the foals he would be seen as going against his families historic agenda.
“We are here to decide the fate of these three foals, but also the fate of the three lenders, two of which has already cut their losses and moved on, not wishing to add to the foals’ hardships. Marcus Cicero,” Servilia suddenly said turning to the plaintive’s attorney, “how much was the loan?” she asked.
If Servilia can be described as half dove then Marcus Cicero could be described as half vulture, this is mostly due to a crooked smile that seem to plastid on his face at all times.
The attorney was not called on at all and did not have to answer anything but complied to answer the question rather than debate court etiquette and end up answering her inquiry anyways.
“3000 bits.” He answered.
“How much did the family payback with interest before their demise.” A whimper could he heard from the group of foals, the eldest has been trying to keep the others calm during the hiring so not to anger Romulus, but heartbroken children can only take so much. Servilia looked over to the foals then turned back to the attorney “hold your answer Cicero.”
She walked over to the foals and spread her wings over them blocking the young ponies’ view of the room; she then ducked her head into her makeshift dome. What was said to the foals in their moment of privacy was unknown to the rest of the court, but when she left their sides their tears were dried and the some color had returned to them.
“Cicero, your answer please,” she said.
“4800 bits.” He responded as a matter of fact.
“And what is left of the loan?” she pushed on pacing the center of the room.
“1200 bits” he said casually.
“It seems to me that your client has already profited off this loan and won’t be at a lost. Am I right?”
“Mathematically, yes-“
“Thank you” Servilia said cutting him off from further response. “People of the court as you can see this is not a conflict of law for the only one pursuing these foal for reimbursement has already made a profit. Your honor I rest my argument”
The sound of one griffon clapping could be heard, most of the griffons were placed in a very solemn mood, but it was Marcus Cicero, the other representatives in this hearing. “A very passionate speech Servilia, but it is a narrow perspective on these poor foals situation. They have lost their parents, their home, and any assets that would have assisted them through this hardship and through their lives. You want to send them to a pony orphanage most of which are so underfunded the foals there are lucky to eat once a day.”
“We have made it that way!”
BANG “Servilia!” Romulus bellowed as he slammed down his talon, “Don’t make me remove you.”
“I have never seen a happy pony orphan,” Marcus went on as if he was never interrupted, “but I have seen slaves earn their way to happier lives. That, as you poetically pointed out Servilia, is the intent of slavery.” No. Servilia thought to herself, he’s making a hole for Romulus to weasel through and decide anything he wants. “You say we will ‘condemn them to slavery’ I say we would condemn them to destitute. The foals, to be cared for and taught by a wealthy griffon, maybe even earn their freedom or an uncomfortable life where their best option once they are of age is slavery anyways.” Servilia had lost, with Romulus biased views there was no way she would win now.
Romulus spread his wings to get the courts attention, “I have the facts and have heard the augments, I will now deliberate in my quarters court is in recess for one hour, return promptly.”
Romulus retired to the judge’s quarters, only 15 minutes went by when another griffon arrived and entered the room. “Who the he-oh Remus, what do you want?”
The new arrival named Remus was Romulus’ brother, and every feature on Remus gave that away, except for one thing. Remus had a soft smile that seems to never leave his face; unfortunately he was always compared to his older brother. Things like Romulus with a heart or Romulus with tact were phrases he heard more often then he would’ve liked.
Remus had a look on his face like he just won a battle, or a really good game of chess, “I’m here to make your evening less stressful. A pony has come forth and paid the family’s debt to the griffon.”
Not bothering to hide the irate in his voice, Romulus answered, “I have already decided that they will be slaves rather than under fed orphans.”
Remus smile just got bigger. “The pony has also paid for the foals to attend a boarding school until they’re of age. They will belong to the state but they will be raised by the school and well taken care of. There is no longer a reason to make these foals into slaves; at least not legally.”
Romulus stared at his brother like he was a live fish to be eaten. “So be it I'll inform the court after the recess.”
“Glad to hear it brother.” He turned to leave.
“Who was this pony?” Romulus asked in an icy tone.
Still heading out the door he Remus answered, “Who else would be this generous?”
With that he left the room.
“Epicharis” Romulus growled to himself.
Remus made his way down the hall from the judge’s deliberation room and was stopped by a young mare clearing her throat.
“Prince Remus if today’s business in the courts is over there is concerns regarding the upcoming Gala’s budget.” Remus just smiled at the mare. Her butter yellow coat was softly accented by a curly orange mane and tail, with the curls of her mane tied up elegantly, she sported a pinstriped mare’s suit and a balance weight adorned her flank. The features of her face gave a false assumption of a shy and innocent mare, in reality she is one of the most successful ponies in Canterlot. Her power peeked when she became the personal accountant to the great griffon family.
“Where should we address these concerns Epic?” The prince asked as the mare walked up beside him, the two resumed their way out of the court house.
Epicharis walked with her eyes closed and her nose turned up as like the pony nobility of old, a habit she formed while in the service of the great family. “As the Gala is part of the family’s budget, somewhere private would be warranted.”
“My quarter then, it has a great view.” A smile crept across the griffon’s beak.
“Really now?” the mare said casually.
“Yep, from the moment you walk into the room” Epic opened her eyes and gave him an annoyed glance then resumed her pose as they walked out of the building.
“A view like that may be distracting dear prince, we might have to hinder you from such pleasures until our work is done.” She teased right back.
“It’s imposable to keep such things from me.” He responded in a cocky voice.
“I see the prince is full of himself today.” She responded as they passed the arch into the castle courtyard.
“I am,” Remus he leaned close so she could only hear, “but in a few minutes you’ll be full of me to.”
Epic stopped in her tracks, her eyes popped open as scarlet filed her yellow cheeks.
There are few griffons that know more about the old castle than Brutus and even less who know of the ancient caves and dungeons that reside under its structure. In fact only the upper branches of the great griffon family are aware of what is down there. Except for Brutus; a war veteran who earned the personal trust and loyalty of the emperor himself, and now watches over the only two prisoners that can be found down in these depths.
His long history in the army made his youth last longer than most of his kind, but his age was finally taking its toile as each step shook a feather from his body. This was an easy retirement for him though, all he had to do was feed and care for one of the prisoners. The other one required no attention at all.
The dungeon was massive but with only one active prisoner nothing much was locked up and the occupant had free range of the place. Signs of attempts to make the place homely as possible lay all over the structure. A wooden table under a lit flame lamp sat almost randomly in the darkness.
This was Brutus’ destination, with him a bowl of oat and daisies.
“Your dinner.” He yelled out as he placed the bowl down on the table.
Brutus was well on his way out of this depressing place when a tall white figure slinked its way from the darkness to the awaiting meal. Her coat was salted with dirt and grime, her pink mane lay lifeless and disheveled and a tired and sadden face watch stone slabs run underneath her as she walked to the table.
Some life returned to the creature when she saw the Brutus snuck her a needle and thread in the bowl.
Come morning Brutus returned to fetch the bowl and deliver breakfast. He found the prisoner near the table already putting the tools he gave her to use.
“What are you going to make this time?” he asked her.
“A scarf, it gets cold down here most of the time.” she said trying to make the most of the conversation.
Brutus went to get the bowl, “isn’t that what you made last time?”
The mare laughed, “It’s all I know how to make.”
Brutus nodded then his head snapped as a thought crossed his mind, “you’ve been here a long time how many scarves have you made?”
“I lost count.” She muttered just enough for him to hear.
Brutus couldn’t help but to stare at her; he imagined a dungeon filled with scarves, like a pile of leafs during the fall season.
“Well come on” he said moving his thoughts forward; “it’s time to raise the sun.
A/n:
PhycoKrusk was nice enough to profread my story and make it presentable to you all. I would also like to thank my wife who got me into this pony stuff in the first place. she also gave me a lot of feed back.
I'm going to make each chapter follow one of the main characters, their introduction was what the last chapter was all about. which is why it jumped around a lot.
enjoy
The diversity of Equestria, under the rule of the griffon monarch, is never better expressed than Canterlot’s market.
Griffons, young dragons, diamond dogs, donkeys, goats, minotaurs, and ponies were adding more color to the streets than a fireworks festival. Stalls were run by ponies, griffons, and even changelings, although you would never know it. Here it didn’t matter what your rank in life was, here you negotiate your price like anyone else, and you could even find a member of the great griffin family discussing the most recent plays with a slave.
Which is what Entomon was doing, “I’m telling you, 'Octavia' was not written by Seneca. It had to be an understudy, it had his tone but not his style.”
“One's style can change; he has had many works over many years, it’s very likely he had to change a little.” Entomon had found himself talking theater after a young griffon came up to him and bluntly asked why he did not hide his hideous shape.
Entomon was used to this and was ready with a response, “No one can be happy who has been thrust outside the pale of truth. And there are two ways that one can be removed from this realm: by lying, or by being lied to.”
He would normally get a confused look from whoever was confronting him, but this time the lights in this griffons eyes intensified and she started flapping around him like humming bird to a flower.
“Ohohohoh, that’s Seneca right?! Ahem…” She cleared her throat and stopped moving around so much, “True happiness is... to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future.”
A compulsion came over Entomon and he was buzzing around in excitement just like her, “You like the theater?! Have you seen the recent shows? I missed the last one; I wasn’t supposed to be there. Ever seen one of Plautus’ work”
“Hey!” one of the shops keeps, another female griffon, yelled out, “you kids stop flapping around like that, you’re going to break something!”
“She’s right, it’s crowded here” Entomon said after recovering to a more appropriate demeanor “Fair maiden, will you honor me to the watering hole?” he said quoting another famous play.
The young griffon giggled and played along, “And may I have a name to my captor?”
“Entomon.” He answered.
“Eudocia, but my friends call me Ocia” she answered.
“May I call you by a name so familiar?” At this point Entomon was showing off. A few onlookers didn’t blame him. The young griffin was an attractive one. Her feathers were pristine with nothing out of place. She was the softest brown that one could imagine while her white feathers seem to reflect the light, purple feathers circled her eyes, and her top feathers, the feathers on her head, swept in every direction. To most she looked like an aristocrat’s daughter.
“Accompany me to a new coffee shop, I hear it’s an exquisite place. We shall see if you will earn that familiarity,” she said.
“A coffee shop?” Entomon ask a little surprised. “Their motto is ‘welcome, here’s your drink, now get out.’”
Eudocia shook her head, “Not this establishment, it’s called Joe's, they have couches and lounge areas, and serve more than just coffee, so it’s a great place to mingle for a time. Shall we be going?” she asked.
“Just let me check with my master. I got all of his shopping done and my partner Nero just teleported it back home and I was on my way there myself.” Entomon put his hoof in his mouth and whistled, but no sound came out.
An awkward silence became bubbled between the two.
“So you’re a sl-” POP! “Whoa!” Nero had teleported right between them.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya dear” Nero said bowing in apology, he then turned to his fellow slave “Ya called?”
“Yes, could you see if Hephaestus needs me for anything else,” he elegantly pointed his hoof to Eudocia, “A griffon has requested my company?”
Nero did a mock salute and teleported again.
“Goodness, what was that?” Eudocia asked once she shook the shocked look from her face.
“A headache most of the time,” punned Entomon, “He’s a draconequus.”
“I thought they were bigger,” Eudocia said.
“They normally are. I think Nero is an exception.”
POP!
“Yo buddy, Hephaestus said go have fun, be home before curfew, and something about birds and bees… I think he was hungry. Any who I'm still grounded or I would join ya, ta-ta.” Another pop and Nero was gone again.
Entomon was confused by the last part of the message, “See what I mean? Are you ok?” a faint crimson was making its way through Eudocia’s feathers.
“What? No I'm fine” she quickly said. “So, you said master, Entomon are you a… slave?” she said the last word as if it was a big secret.
“Yes I am; is that a problem, Eudocia?”
“No! Not at all” she looked around nervously, “At least not to me. Come, let’s get going before it gets dark.”
The two started making their way through the crowds. Entomon did notice that as they got a lot of strange looks as they walked together, mostly from griffons. Something was off.
“So is Nero also a slave?” ask Eudocia.
“Yes, why do you ask?” he answered.
“He said he was grounded, I never heard that term for a slave before.” There was a hint of confusion in her voice.
“Oh, I see what you’re asking. Nero is just a kid I think he’s around 6 years old, so that would make him a baby draconequus.”
Eudocia gave him a funny look. “Draconequui age like dragons.” Eudocia made an expression of understanding. “Nero made a big ruckus here in the market a while ago, and our master grounded him for two months.”
“Parents ground, slave owners beat or humiliate” Eudocia had spat every word out of her beak. Entomon took notice of her tone, only other slaves had this reaction to Hephaestus’ style of punishment. Entomon felt bad for assuming that she was a free griffon.
He lowered his head in shame. “I'm sorry Eudocia. I didn’t think you were a slave.”
“No apologies necessary, I'm not a slave, I just don’t have a high opinion of many slave owners.” A thought crossed her mind. “What made you assume I wasn't a slave?
“The way you look. You're very pretty Eudocia, and you speak quite elegantly,” He answered.
“What, are slaves ugly and uncouth?” She didn’t mean to lash out at him but the changeling's sudden flattery surprised her a little.
“No no, just not as well… groomed as you are, and most of the time we don’t smell as pleasant as you do.”
The more the changeling spoke the darker her feathers on her face got. She found herself hiding part of her face behind her wings.
She started to slow her pace which put some distance between them. Entomon stop after she fell far enough behind.
Looking over his shoulder at her he asked if everything was alright.
Ignoring his question she answered with her own, “You really think I'm pretty?”
Entomon shrugged, “Doesn’t everyone?”
That was all she could take.
Her face became completely flushed, butterflies were kicking up a storm in her stomach, and all of her senses dulled. There had been plenty of griffons who have tried to woo her, even some ponies; but this was different. There was such honesty behind his words, a level of sincerity that she never experienced. He wasn’t after anything, not even her; all he was doing was being honest. Eudocia was surprised that her last thought upset her a little bit.
Her sense of time slowed down so much that it seemed like hours had passed when Entomon spoke up again.
“Eudocia, is that the coffee shop you were telling me about?” He was pointing to one of the shops.
“Um…” she was trying to straighten her thoughts, “Yes that’s it.”
Most of the patrons were ponies scattered among them was a few changelings (disguised as ponies like always) and a griffon or two. A lot of heads started craning to glance at them. Entomon was used to this; it was the same every time he entered a new place.
This time was different; they didn’t go back to whatever they were doing before the sight of a changeling interrupted them. The entire café was staring, and did not stop.
“Sorry.” Entomon hung his head. “People are always like this with me, they’ll leave us alone after a bit, that is if you want to stay.”
“I have similar issues where ever I go,” she replied, “I pay no attention to it, how do you cope with it?”
Entomon straighten himself up and spoke dramatically with his hoof extended into the air. “A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials.”
Eudocia giggled. “I think you like Seneca more than I do, Entomon.” She raised her talon in the air like Entomon,” Come, let us ignore these gawkers and pay heed to another only.”
“What’s that from?” Entomon ask.
She withdrew her talon from the air and tapped her head, “My brain.”
“Gag me with a fork and beat me with a spoon,” a gagging sound came from behind the two. They looked over their shoulders to see a familiar creature made of many others choking himself and dramatically falling over.
Eudocia raised an eyebrow at him; Entomon however was used to his antics and just sighed.
“What do you want, Nero?” he said in a flat voice.
Nero got right back up like his actions were normal. “Big Boss wants to know where you are and with whom. I think he’s going to come ge-”
“He said I can have the evening off!”
“Chill bro, I'm just the messenger. It’s going to be a while anyways, so just have fun till he gets here; I’ll tell him you’re at Joe's with your hen-friend.” the whole shop exploded in whispers and murmurs.
The stares, the extra attention and now this reaction to Nero’s teasing, something about all this was bugging Entomon, he just couldn’t connect the dots.
He shook free of his worry turned to Nero. “We just met,” Entomon tilted his head in Eudocia direction, “Don’t go spreading rumors around, I’m in enough trouble lately as it is.”
“Yes yes yes, I’ll just tell him where you’re at.” Pop, he was gone again.
“Well he certainly comes and goes as he pleases doesn’t he?” admired Eudocia, “How is he still a slave? He could have escaped that life along time ago.”
“Escape to what?” Entomon asked in a dark tone. “He’s a child, remember? He would get no education; the public schools are only open to griffons.” The more he talked the colder his voice grew. “Most non-griffon equestrians get their education from tutors or private schools, if they're rich enough. The rest of us learn from our parents or masters. The best thing for him is to remain a slave. Even more than myself, as our master has apprenticed him. Hephaestus could leave the shop to him one day since Nero’s life span outreaches our own. Besides,” he lowered his tone when he noticed the growing concern on her face. He took a breath before continuing. “Besides, they’re spells on him to keep him from using his teleportation to escape. I’m sorry, I should not have snapped like that, it was a fair question.”
Entomon found a wing around his shoulders. Eudocia was nudging him further into the shop.
“Let’s order and find a seat. We can talk until your master comes and picks you up.”
The two made their way to the counter next to a display of pastries. “Welcome to Joe's!” A light brown mare greeted them from behind the counter. Her color reminded Entomon of… well, coffee. She also had a very genuine smile, all of which made Entomon believe that she might the owner. “Is this your first time here?”
“Yes it is.” Answered Eudocia, “This is very different for a coffee shop,” she waived her talon around, “How do you keep afloat with most of your patrons just lounging about with just one or two orders?”
“Tell me.” A stallion, with his back to her, spoke up as he reared up on his hind legs to work the steamer, “How did you hear about us?” the pony that spoke up look almost exactly like the one at the register, only about three shades darker.
“An employee of my father told me about this establishment,” Eudocia answered.
The stallion spun around and pointed his hoof at her “Ha! That’s how my dear.”
She just stared and blinked at him.
“Ignore my brother,” the other pony said turning to glare at him, “He tends to talk as if you already know what he’s thinking. You see, we don’t advertise. We rely on word of mouth to get our name out there, and it offsets the cost. It actually works better this way. This isn’t our first coffee shop. Our first attempt went belly up.”
“Wow,” the changeling said, “That is different. A few shops could learn from yours.”
Eventually, the two ordered their drinks and turned to find some seats.
“If you two need anything else let us know,” the barista mare call out, “I'm Hazelnut, and my brother is Dark Roast.”
The two soon found a table to share.
“So you asked me what the last play I saw was,” the young griffin started up. “I just saw 'Octavia' for the first time.”
“That’s an interesting one. Well, as interesting as divorce can be. Well, what did you think about it?” Entomon asked as he sipped his beverage.
“It was good, but it was the same as any other Seneca’s’ creations.”
“Well, you be happy to know that he didn’t write that one. Most think he did but we now know it was an understudy of his.” Another sip.
“What? Really? You’re teasing me, are you not?” She seemed a little exasperated
Her new friend shook his head at her.
“I’m telling you, 'Octavia' was not written by Seneca. It had to be an understudy, it had his tone but not his style.”
“One's style can change. He has had many works over many years, it’s very likely he had to change a little.”
Their pending debate of theater history was cut short as Entomon felt the warmth of some one behind him.
A mixed look of fear and annoyance rose up in Eudocia's face as the changeling glanced up to find an overly preened griffon officer behind him. His chest fluffed out further than his beak, his back perfectly slated down, and his eyes closed. Entomon has seen this before in other self-righteous griffons. They tended to think little of any species that was not their own.
But why would someone like this be in here? Entomon thought to himself. What am I doing? I’m judging him by the way he looks. As a changeling I should know better.
“Pee-yew, why do pony establishments always smell like a barn?”
Never mind.
“Is it because there is so many of them in one place? There should be a law against ponies congregating or assembly.” He seemed to be talking to no one. This pompous griffon earned himself more than a few angry glares, but it was Dark Roast who spoke up.
“This shop is open to all, griffon, but we will not tolerate you harassing our guests. Leave bird, or I will call the guard.”
“I am the guard you fool!” The griffon bellowed. “You can cease your whining, I will be gone soon enough. I’m only here to escort the princess home.”
Suddenly all the strange behaviors that Entomon observed made sense, “You’re a princess!” Entomon yelled in surprise while pointing at Eudocia. She smiled at him sheepishly.
“Well, that’s what daddy calls me.” Entomon face hoofed, but then started laughing at her light joke.
“Well, that explains a few things, but what about feather stick over here?” the changeling japed his hoof towards the griffon.
“You dare speak so casually with a member the great griffon family!?” The griffon officer seemed to be getting bigger as his anger grew.
“Quiet Placidus! I desire his voice over yours right now.” The griffon straighten himself even more than he was before, which was an accomplishment in Entomon’s mind. “I will also leave when Entomon leaves.” She turned back to the changeling.
“He’s an officer in the guard, one that my parents like to use. My family probably just wants me home before the sun sets.”
“Oh, so he’s an errand pigeon.”
The ‘pigeon’ suddenly moved between the two, knocking over the table. Placidus reared up on his hind paws and back slapped the offending changeling so hard that he flew unconscious across the shop.
“I will not allow something so lowly insult me or the princess!”
A massive talon scooped Entomon body up off the floor, green blood could be seen oozing from his lips.
“And I will not allow you to damage my property.” There were just some voices that had a power over people that just had such a boom to them that you couldn’t do anything put shut up and listen.
When Hephaestus talks you listen.
When he stands up straight you fall to all fours.
And if you’re Placidus you pray to the gods that this mountain of a griffon doesn't decide to eat you.
“When my changeling comes to, you may come by my shop to offer an apology.” His voice held no hatred or anger nor command or order. He spoke as if this was a casual fact.
“Apologies to a slav-”
“Would you rather I pull your unit’s tab as compensation?” Not a change in his tone.
A few moments went by as Placidus looked like someone slapped his mother.
Then, through a gritted beak, Placidus finally gave his answer, “Send a slave and I’ll answer.”
“Good, now wait outside. I’ll send our princess out after she’s said her goodbyes.”
The officer slink his way out of the coffee shop.
“That brute!” the griffon princess said, “We have seen minotaurs more civilized than he.” Now that everyone here knew who she was, Eudocia had to act the part. “Will Entomon be alright?”
The changeling laid limp in Hephaestus talon, the poor thing was so small compared to his master that he looked like a sleeping foal.
“He should be fine,” the blacksmith answered her, “Changelings are more resilient dan de rest of us.”
The princess kept her composure, but her relief was apparent in her eyes.
“We are to assume you are Entomon’s owner? We must say we are impressed with you. Few have made that weasel so humble. We’ve only seen my uncles, Remus and Romulus, do it.”
“Ah, so you’re Palaiologos’ great niece.” The giant griffon responded “I trust my Entomon was respectful?”
“Most would say no as he spoke to us as if we were common, but this was welcomed and desired. You speak of our great uncle in the same manner. Such a strange habit you have.”
“I'm a mountain griffon princess. We believe [dat if you don’t talk to someone as an equal, you insult dem. It’s why dere are so few of us in major cities like dis.”
“That would explain your size and stature. Would you do us a favor?”
He gave a single node.
“Let Entomon know that we would like to see him again and that he should address us as Ocia when we next meet.”
Not a single patron of Joe's made a sound as the drama unfolded in the coffee shop. No one could look away and no one dared to move. Most of the same thoughts ran through these ponies’ minds, but one unicorn’s gears spun a different direction.
In the far corner of the shop, nearest to the back door, sat a stallion with a white coat brighter than most will ever see again. Scars of all types covered his body, causing most to approach him with caution. The alabaster unicorn sported a compass rose cutie mark with a single thin scar across it. Upon closer look, his mark seem to lack a needle. His golden main and tail were the things of fairy tales, and his horn was slightly longer than the average unicorn.
The stallion watched the drama with everyone else, but his interest was not in the treasure trove of gossip, but an opportunity.
A scene played out in Entomon’s mind. A thick haze fell over everything he saw. All he could tell is that it was a forest somewhere, and there was a pair of ponies. He could hardly see what’s going on or who it was, but he could hear them...
“Let go.”
“Are you crazy?!
Entomon couldn’t make out much more than that but the last thing he heard was screaming.
Entomon’s eyes popped open as he sat up in his bed. “What the buck was that?”
A booming voice came from the outside the house.
“You're awake, good, come down and stop cursing, you know better.”
Entomon look of surprise grew after he heard his master.
“How does he do that?” he said to himself.
“Ears child, now come down.”
Entomon made his way down stairs and found breakfast waiting for him. Which for a changeling, was just a cup of honey.
The house that the three occupied was the largest in their section of the city, but with a griffon the size of a boulder, and half of the house taken up by a smith shop and forge, it might as well have been a shack. Because the house was also the forge it had to be built to be flame retardant. Therefore the home was made out of mud soaked wood, and the exposed wood was chard black, this made the wood a lot less flammable and once it did catch fire the house would collapse on itself and smother the flames and keep the fire from spreading to the other homes.
Many have suggested that Hephaestus just rebuild the house out of solid stone or brick, few knew that the extreme heat of the forge would cause a lot of damage to such a structure while the wood would just expand and contract without much damage to the home, plus the forge would turn a stone house into an oven and that was not a metaphor.
Because off all this everything inside and out was blacked wood and not a single object had color. It was almost eerie and most definitely depressing.
Entomon gulped down his honey as soon as he got down stairs. He cringed in pain as the sweet nectar passed over his still swollen lips.
“How’s your head Entomon?” his master asked coming inside the house.
“My lips are worse off than my head.” He answered him. “I'll get started on cleaning the house, there are few tabs that I'm going to try to collect today and let me know if you need anything before I balance the books, don’t want to do that twice.” This was why Hephaestus bought him. Everything thing besides smith work was Entomon’s job, Hephaestus would sometime call him his shop manager, mostly when he did not want to deal with an irate customer.
“Entomon, how old are you?” his master asked.
Entomon nearly dropped his cup. It was something that no one every asked him, and it was so out of the blue. Changelings didn't really age like griffons or ponies. There was not really young or old, there was just the term ‘finished growing’ which was the point that Changelings became self-aware. They were insectoid creatures after all. To a changeling, age was a social concept that they didn't need, but that had been pushed upon them since they lost the war with the empire.
Most changelings were bred as slaves from the start. Mostly this was because only a changeling queen could give birth to a changeling, and there were no free queens. Changelings could breed on their own, just not with another changeling, but those kind of relationships were dangerous for the non-changeling and are even considered taboo. The offsprings were lucky though, and always took after the other parent and never become some kind of hybrid of the two.
Many scholars of the day believed this universal breeding ability was once a part of the changeling feeding cycle. They would plant themselves in a family or village, and start their own family. Allowing the changeling to not only feed off the love of a mate but of their children as well; though most changelings couldn't attach themselves to any one anymore as there were laws and magic in their way. This made most changelings unable to cast any spells besides the one that gave them their name.
“Well, I finished growing right before you brought me, that was six years ago.”
“I know you don’t really age or keep track of how old you are, but I would like to have a way to track your… progress.”
Entomon noticed that there was awkwardness in his master’s voice as he spoke. The changeling preferred not to assume anything with others and let them speak for themselves, but this was out of character for his master.
“Progress, master? In what?”
“Life, my boy. You have not done much wid it. But once you reflect and measure it, you may come to control it.”
“I am a slave, master. Your slave. I have no life of my own.” His voice was so flat that it nearly persuaded the giant griffon from pressing on with his little pep talk.
“Slave or not you have control over your actions. Yet you’ve done noding but work and gone to plays. You have enjoyed noding else in your life.”
“Most would say that’s a desired trait in a slave.” Entomon's flat tone grew in volume.
“Dat’s not what I desire.”
“I desire only what you wish master.” His voice grew almost tempered.
“Don’t blow dis off, Entomon. You need to get your head out of de clouds.” The blacksmith's voice was rising. “You have done everyding de same way for the last six years, until yesterday.”
Entomon slammed his cup down on the table and for once yelled at his own master, “What are you getting at? What are trying to do!?!”
“I’m trying to raise you!!”
If there was ever an awkward moment too painful for the changeling to remember this was it. The two just stood there and stared at each other. Neither dared to talk.
POP!
“Hey Big Boss I delivered your message. That high and mighty griffon is on his way. That jerk called me an abomination; can you make him say sorry to me to?”
“Nero” Entomon spoke up first, “I have never been so relieved to see you.”
“Prince Romulus! Prince Romulus!”
Romulus stopped mid step as a massager ran down the hall of the castle in a panic pursuit.
“Sorry for the interruption but, your Highness-”
“’His Royal Highness’.” A voice behind the prince said.
The owner came into the massager’s view. A young and fairly attractive griffon walked around the intimidating prince and addressed him directly.
“My uncle is a prince and heir to the throne so it is appropriate to addresses him as His Royal Highness for he is his father’s son.”
The poor massager looked like he was just sentence to death.
The prince, however, was more annoyed with her than him.
“Just relay your massage.” Romulus said to the frightened messenger.
“R-right,” he stood at attention. “I was sent to inform you to meet with your father. Immediately. The zebras have formed an alliance with the elephants and Hannibal himself is leading an army of them down the mountains.”
“Down the mountains? The zebras and elephants are to our south.”
“Yes.” He elaborated, “They have gone around our territory and are coming through our northern border. They have already hit the crystal colonies.”
“Very well.” Romulus said, “I’ll be at his champers in due time.” The massager bowed and took his leave.
Romulus then turned to speak to his niece. “It’s not like you to be mean to our staff, Ocia.”
“You’re right; we are in a foul mood. Placidus, has once again made us very upset and all father would say was that he was only doing his job.”
Ocia would say no more; she knew full well that her uncle would only agree with his cousin, her father, once he knew the details. So she decided to change the subject. “We didn’t think that Equestria was at war with any one, and who is this Hannibal? That name sounds familiar to us.”
The prince began to make his way through the castle with Ocia in tow.
“It should.” Romulus said as they walked together, “He was once my greatest general. Best military mind I have ever seen. He didn’t just exploit your weakness; he also exploited your strengths.”
“So he’s a traitor?” Ocia stated more than asked.
“He’s currently…an enemy.” Romulus answered her, a clear hesitation in his voice.
They came to a forked hallway and Romulus was growing tired of the conversation. ”I can make it from here, Ocia. Just go to your lessons.”
Ocia reluctantly left Romulus as he made the rest of the trip by himself. He arrived shortly after leaving Ocia and didn’t bother knocking he just walked right into his father’s room and found it to be empty.
Looking around Romulus remember some griffon told him that his father’s room was once Celestia’s room and the permanent decorations gave way to that possibility. Romulus wasn’t one for art but he did find the fact that his father had flowers and little ponies aligning his room amusing.
“Oh!” Romulus attention was snapped away from the décor of the walls. “I-I'm sorry m-my prince I thought this room was vacant.” The white cleaning pony dressed up in a maid outfit started to bow her way out.
Romulus never understood why the cleaning mares had to wear that outfit, it served no practical use.
“Again my apolo-OH!” suddenly the mare lurched forward rubbing her rear.
“Ooohohohohohoh” the laugh of an elderly griffin preceded its owner through the door.
A rather large griffon with a red sash draped down his wings walked into the room. His age and experience seem to shine through him like a badge of honor, yet he moved like someone half his age and his eyes lost no luster in his golden years.
The poor mare had been goosed by the emperor of Equestria.
Many would describe Emperor Palaiologos as very high-spirited and caring leader of the people with an endless well of charisma. Palaiologos had few enemies, even among the enemies of the state. In his senior years he has become a grandfather like figure in the minds and eyes of everyone in the castle.
“I'm so sorry child, but you were backing up right into me. Then there is that outfit you’re in plus there is nothing that compares to a mares bottom. I just couldn’t help myself.”
“I-I'm sorry your highness.” The maid said.
“Why are you apologizing my dear? I rather enjoyed myself. I should apologies to you.”
“I'm just a pony your highness.” She answered.
“Oh really?” The old griffon went on. “So does that mean that any griffon may grasp your flank as they see fit?”
The mare could not answer; she only stood there with her mouth agape as sounds of hesitation escaped through its opening.
“Father.” Romulus spoke up. “You can tease the help later we have more important matter to attend to.”
“Forgive my son, child. He got his tactfulness from his mother. His brother is much more charming.” Emperor Palaiologos leaned towards the mare. “And I think he prefers the mares.”
The mare blushed just a little.
“Enough of this!” Romulus bellowed, “Father, we have a country to defend! You, pony, get out!”
The mare couldn’t have run out of that room faster.
Palaiologos turned to his son.
“A good leader is both loved and respected. I hope you will grow to understand this someday.” Palaiologos said to him.
“My people respect me, and my enemies fear me, neither war nor politics slow me down father.” Romulus responded.
“But you are making every one fear you. Are you to tell me everyone is your enemy?”
Romulus stubbornly ignored his father.
Palaiologos admitted defeat to himself and moved on.
“However, your blunt nature has its uses though; which is why I called you here. Tell me son do you think that I should be on the battle field?”
“Your old, father, and the people see you as a passivist instead of a war lord. The old vet and generals know that you carry our family’s knack for war very well but our armies are made of the young. I would send someone who can not only challenge Hannibal but inspire the troops.”
“Then I should send you.” Palaiologos said, “You know him best and your presence on the battle field would inspire confidence. You’re the best bird for the job.”
“I agree father.” Romulus said in a flat voice.
Palaiologos walked closer to his father. A look of concern spread over his face.
“Are you alright with facing your only friend in battle?” Palaiologos asked.
“He will be my friend after the battle, he’s promised me. So I will be alright with it.” Romulus reassured his father.
“If only he was that loyal to Equestria as he is to you.” Palaiologos said in a sad voice, “The last thing a father wants is to send his son to battle, but for our family it’s supposed to be an honor. Very well then, now all of Equestria is behind you for this campaign. There is only one thing I personally wanted to change because of this. You know Borcha?”
“Our treasurer? Yes.” Romulus answered.
“Yea, he’s fired.” Romulus almost laughed at how casual his father was when he said that. “I want our accountant to take over.
“What?! Why?!” Romulus yelled appalled by his father’s choice.
Ignoring the fact that his son just raised his voice at him, Palaiologos calmly answered his question. “Borcha has proved he is unfit for the position. He has allowed half of our army and almost our entire castle and city guards to be in debt with a single black smith. Fortunately this smith has been content with only collecting so much from our tab, he could easily bankrupt the army overnight if he wanted to.”
“But why would you give the position to a pony?!” Romulus interrupted.
To his surprise his father was laughing.
“You have such contempt for ponies, but right now I getting more respect from them then I do from my own son.”
Romulus got the message and shut his beak to let his father finish.
“Now,” Palaiologos continued, “Epicharis has not only kept our own accounts in the green, she has made you and your brother the wealthiest generation in our family’s history. What impressed me is that she did this without making any of our projects or employees suffer from her changes.
“I have made her aware of her promotion and she has already set up a meeting with four of our most prominent leaders to discussed changes and options. I want you meet with her before you make your way north.
“Now, you’re very busy so I’ll let you take your leave. And Romulus, Epicharis is going to need an aid. And Ocia has been begging me for some kind of job to get her into the swing of things around here. So, why do-“
“YOU WANT ONE OF OUR FAMILY MEMEBERS TO WORK FOR A PONY!!”
Before Romulus’ mind registered any movement at all, his father was looking down at him, reared up on his back paws, talons clenched in fist.
The great griffon family is said to have mountain griffons in their blood line, and sometimes there is a throwback. If any doubted this, Palaiologos size would alleviate that.
“Romulus” he spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper, to his son. “You truly have your mother’s manners and prejudice. But the griffon that made you dangerous, the griffon that gave you your demeanor, your knack for battle is standing over you. If you can’t respect me as your father or emperor, then you should respect me for a griffon that can rip you apart.”
The first pony in politics since the Great War 150 years ago. Epic thought to herself as she made her way through the castle.
The castle is covered in oversized doors, rooms, and halls. It was believed that the castle was built to accommodate any sized creature. Others thought it was to intimidate. But the door that Epic was looking for was a small door to a small conference room.
Epic knew she found the right place when she saw Ocia standing by one of the many doors in the hallway.
“Princess Eudocia, I’m very pleased that you agreed to be my aid.” Epic said to her as she approached.
“And I'm please you would have me, Epicharis.” Ocia answered. “But please, I'm your aid call me Ocia until I leave your service.”
Epic smiled at her. She has always liked Ocia; she was more like her uncle Remus than her own parents. Ocia’s parents, like most of the upper class, believe that griffons were superior. Ocia was fair and just, like her great uncle, Epic could easily see her as a great leader someday.
“Only if you call me Epic like all my friends do.” She said.
Ocia gave Epic a warm smile before she turned to open the door and allowed Epic to walk in first. Epic found four griffins of different shapes and political positions sitting at a round conference table. All four stood up when Ocia walked in. Epic recognized all four of them, but they probably didn’t recognize her. She began going over the griffons in her mind sizing them up.
Let’s see here we have:
Lucius, the largest griffon in the room, a gruff, cigar smoking, general. He’s the one in charge of city guards and solders that policed our cities and occupied countries. His division is costing us way more than it needs to.
Demetrius, the Centurion of the Canterlot guards. A very posh griffon, not much of soldier but a good investigator who can play politics quiet well, for a military griffon. Ill need him to push through a lot of reform that I want Canterlot to go through.
Gaius, our yongest senator, his family has their claws in every government project. Most of the time he takes on a role of a lobbyist to move funds to certain projects. He’ll help keep the money flowing.
And Bassianus, one of the longest running senators alive, not much to him, but he does have influence over many senators. He could help push through many of my changes.
“Princess Eudocia.” Demetrius said, “I heard you took some kind of internship, I didn’t know it was with our new treasurer. Will this Epicharis be joining us soon?”
Epic was used to this misunderstanding. Epicharis is a griffon name, so most people believe that she was a griffon. This worked to her advantage, most of the time.
“Oh good, you brought a pony with you.” Lucius said through the cigar in his beak. “Fetch us some wine mare, it’s going to be a long meeting.”
Ocia kept quiet knowing she should let Epic handle this.
Epic quietly walked to the table and sat down.
“You may sit gentlebirds.” She said to them.
Not one of them moved. All four of them stared at her. The air became thick with disdain, as if the griffons were trying to push her out of the room by force of will. Epic just sat there, somehow looking all four of them in the eyes as she silently sat there defiantly. Ocia was smiling to herself; she knew full well that these griffons were in for a very big surprise. As nice and sweet as she is, Epic was also ruthless.
“Young mare.” Bassianus spoke breaking the silence, “What are you doing? Were you invited to this meeting?”
“No.” Epic said, her voice flat and stern. “I scheduled it. I'm Epicharis the new treasurer. I have called you here because there are immediate changes that I want to implement.
“Ha! This must be a joke or a test.” Gaius said. “The Emperor must be having some fun with us.”
“My great uncle is an endearing griffon, but he lacks any humor when bureaucracy is involved.” Ocia said trying to help Epic.
“Gentlebirds, I know who each one of you is, but you don’t know me. However your positions were made possible by me.”
All four griffons look taken back.
“Gaius, your family has its talons in most of Great Griffon Families’ projects and endeavors. Your family has the favor of the emperor and his sons.
“However your family only started doing this recently over the past few years. Your family is not political they are investors, it was I who showed up out of the blue and convinced your great aunt to invest in the Great Griffon Family. After that your family fought hard to get you a seat on the senate in order protect their investments, all of which are paying off. Your family has never been so rich or powerful.
“H-how did you even get to see her? The door would have been shut in your face, pony.” Gaius asked.
He had no objection to what she said; it was the same thing his father told him. He just always assumed it was another griffon that talked to his great aunt.
“Your family thought I was a griffon when they got my letter offering them the opportunity. When I got to their house the keeper of the home thought I was part of the help and I was able to get in without many qualms.
“Bassianus you nearly lost your position when your districted was redrawn and 68% of your district became ponies. I saved it by funneling money through your name and its campaign to projects that help ponies. After that your poll number shot up and your position was safe.
“Lucius your soldiers police our cities and colonies. Many wanted to do away with that and let them police themselves. I convinced enough griffons that such a transition would have place a strain on the colonies causing a chain reaction that would lead to a recession. Saving not only your job but many of your soldiers as well.
“And, Demetrius, Borcha was trying to pin his failure with the city guard on you. I offered to investigate it when Palaiologos nearly had you on the chopping block and that was not a metaphor.
Demetrius gulped.
“Now that you know what I can accomplish let me make one more thing clear to you all. Power is held by the one who controls the flow of money. I now control the flow. I don’t care what your opinion of me is; I'm not here to change your mind about ponies. I'm here to do a job. You can help me do that job or…you can rot under my hooves. Are we in an understanding boys?”
Three of the griffon’s beaks were hanging open. General Lucius was sucking his cigar like a baby.
“Pon- I mean Epicharis if you ever leave your new position, I would love to hire you at a TO, you’d wipe my boys in shape faster than their mothers.”
The general started laughing as the other griffons got control of their beaks.
“Well in that case Epicharis.” said Demetrius, “What’s the first order of business?”
Epic sent Ocia to fetch her uncle Remus. During her meeting it came to light that the coliseum was a huge money pit.
As a free service to the public and no third party endorsements to compensate the lavish games and shows, the coliseum had become an anchor to the economy.
A surprise royal visit would be a great way to find alternative means of funding the structure, and its many forms of entertainment, besides taxes. It was also an excellent excuse to spend time with her beloved in public, without arousing suspicion.
Epic waited patiently in the lobby entrance of the castle. She expected to be waiting a while for Remus as the prince managed many position in the castle and could not drop everything on her summons, although he would love to.
As she paced around the lobby she heard the voice of the most pompous and annoying officer of the city guard, Placidus. His voice was coming just outside of the castle.
Bored waiting for Remus Epic decided to see what the ass of a guard was squawking about now.
“You abomination!” Epic heard Placidus yell as she pushed opened the large doors to the castle courtyard. He was standing in the way of another griffon…no not a griffon. Epic could see that the creature’s lower half was pony not lion. This was a hippogriff a pony-griffon hybrid
“Your kind are illegal and yet you dare try to step foot into the great griffon family home? Men arrest him; put this freak where we won’t have to set eyes on him again!”
“You’re wasting your time, office-”
Placidus suddenly grabbed the hippogriff by the beak; a cruel smile dance across his face as he started pulling the creature around helplessly.
Epic had enough of this scene.
“Release him Placidus; we pay you to keep the peace not indulge your raciest views.” Epic calmly walked down the steps while her eyes displayed no emotion; she would not allow Placidus the satisfaction of getting under her skin.
Placidus didn’t let go he just looked over his should and glared daggers at Epic. Normally he would have smacked any one that wasn’t a griffon for talking to him like she did, but he knew who she was and what she could do to him.
“Are you talking to me pony? Shouldn’t you be balancing the books for our emperor?” Placidus mocked.
“Yes I should, I also need to finish signing your paycheck. Now stop wasting the government’s money and release him.”
Placidus pulled down on the beak in his talon. Throwing the hippogriff to the ground; he then pinned him there by resting his talon on the back of his neck.
“Wasting time?! How? This eyesore is an illegal creature. A pony has more rights than him.”
Epic mustered enough will as she could to keep her cool. She was an official that answered only to the emperor, letting a lowly officer make her angry in public would cause her to lose face and respect, neither of which she could spare.
“I am going to inform your CO that you need a refresher class on basic law. It is not illegal to be a hippogriff but to procreate one. At this moment you are assaulting a citizen of Equestria.”
Placidus eyes became blood shot as he forced himself to let the hippogriff get up off the ground.
“Thank you miss…”
“Epicharis, I'm the treasurer of Equestria. I’ll make sure that this guard is properly educated.”
The hippogriff took a few moments to preen himself brush the dirt from his flank. Epic politely waited for a response. As she watched him she noticed that he was not like the other hippogriffs that she had seen before. His body showed a level of upkeep and health that you would expect from a well to do griffon or pony.
No sign of malnourishment or poor hygiene that she normally saw in hippogriffs as they were mostly outcast of both pony and griffon alike. She found herself curios of who this creature was.
He finished cleaning himself off and turned to Epic.
“I'm Albius TideWater ambassador of the colonial islands off the west coast.” He turned to Placidus; his beak had dropped as far as it could and his wings were hanging loose to the ground. “Officer, you just assaulted a diplomat, good luck in your career, I do hope you don’t have children.” Albius started to make his way up the step then turned back at the last second. “Oh, and unions between griffon and pony are not illegal in the colonies.”
Epic took a few steps back into the lobby but then decided to make her own remark.
Looking over her own flank, at the soon to be ruined officer, she lowered her eye lids at him an insincere look of sadness, “I almost feel sorry for you.”
Epic made her way back into the lobby before Placidus could comment back. When guards closed the doors behind them, the sound of the ancient wood slamming shut marked the end of Placidus’ career.
