90 - Going to the Gala
An Extended Holiday
Ch 90: Going to the Gala
Act 12
Hammer Strike pulled an ingot of hot metal out of the forge and moved it over to his anvil. “Celestia, you know my feelings on the Gala,” he commented as he moved his hoof over a few hammers before finally selecting one.
Celestia stood in the forge without her regalia as she used her horn to heat the coals. “Yes, I know, but I really need you there to keep the nobles off stance. If they go in without a few wild cards, I worry they’ll stonewall my sister’s bill, and then we’ll face a severe split between the solar and lunar houses. We can’t afford to have a civil war on our hooves, Hammer Strike, even if it would only be in spirit, if not in body.” She smirked as Hammer Strike beat at the metal, watching the sparks fly. “Besides, I know you love knocking them down a peg or two.” She casually stepped aside as Hammer Strike returned to shove the metal back into the rejuvenated flames.
“I enjoy knocking them down a peg, but at the same time, I’d enjoy avoiding them in the first place. I most likely can’t even bring my gear like I used to as well, especially since everyone nowadays seem to enjoy cloak and dagger methods…”
“I already conceded to let Luna be in charge of the rules for the Thestrals, and knowing her, she’s going to let them walk in armed, or at the very least wearing ceremonial weapons.” She frowned as she recalled that fateful day over a thousand years ago. “I still remember what a weapon is to one of my Sister’s Thestrals, their beating hearts.”
“It’s going to be mayhem this year, now that I think about it,” Hammer Strike hummed. “Armed individuals left and right, new noble houses…”
“As well as my sister’s first time appearing at the Gala. Think about it, Hammer Strike. This could very well be the most entertaining Gala you’ve ever visited. And besides that,” she said, tensing as she prepared her trump card. “I can sweeten the deal. Once you vanished last time, I had to hold onto a little project you kept improving each Gala till I had to cancel it during the War.” Her grin was just as disturbing as Hammer Strike’s. He’d taught her well.
Hammer Strike broke off his work to look her directly in the face. “Are you talking about…?”
“Yep.”
Hammer Strike groaned. “Why do you know what buttons to push?”
“I learned from the best,” she replied warmly.
“Not to find mine!”
“You and I both know we want to see Baron Blueblood’s reaction.” She reached into the flames unprotected and withdrew the cherry metal before seizing it in her magic and twisting it into a pretzel. “This time I made sure he couldn’t get out of it. I hope you can show him certain respect.”
“I honestly don’t care which one shows up, I’ll still torment either one.”
“Trust me when I say the Baron is the one pulling the strings. Let the prince take over, and all he’ll want to do is spend weeks in his sky yacht.” She snorted as flames rose high from the forge. “I will not let an ember burst into something else.”
“I make no promises.”
“I expect nothing more from you.” With that, they continued their work. Nothing more needed to be said.
Pensword snuggled next to Lunar Fang as they enjoyed the evening with each other. They had slept the day and were just now waking up. Moon River was stalking along one of the ledges they had installed in the large room, bringing a smile to Pensword, even as Matthew made a comment on how his mother would throw a fit at the unsafe conditions.
“It’s so funny,” Lunar Fang said. “As far as time goes, we met less than a year ago.” She wrapped a wing around Pensword.
“You are very right, and yet… how long did we know each other in the past?” he asked. “I … well, if your parents–a human phrase comes to my mind, robbing the cradle. I am decades older than you are in technicality, and yet, both of us happen to be some of the oldest living Ponies outside of Hammer Strike and the two Princesses.” He shook his head. “I still remember you telling me how you always wanted a wedding based on Lunar Fang’s wedding. Funny how you got your wish, wouldn’t you say?” He chuckled.
“Do you regret anything?” she asked him.
“In what way?” He returned, kissing her gently. A smirk crossed his muzzle. “Do you regret anything?”
“Only that it took so long,” she told him. Her kiss was a bit more direct, and lasted a while longer.
“Took what so long? We barely knew each other, and I was a human to start with. Things didn’t even start clicking till after I got this body.”
“And it took me five years to find you again,” she reminded him. “That's a long time.”
“Right. That is true, but you do realize you could have gotten Hammer Strike to give you orders to be the spy to see how cadets are doing to hire into his Army, right?” He smiled, even as she smacked him with her wing. Giving him a glare he knew only too well, and he loved it. “As for regrets, my only regret is that none of my family has gotten to meet you in the flesh. Mom and Dad were there watching out for you after they were killed, and … well, the Human parents … I do not know if they think Matthew is dead or not.” He shook his head. “I just hope they don’t have a heart attack when they see us.” He didn’t get to say anything else as Lunar Fang kissed him on the muzzle for the contraction, as was her tradition.
“So have you got your notes prepared for the gala?” she asked him.
“On my second draft. It is a little hard, but I think I am going to wing parts of it. Speeches have a tendency to change on the go based on on actions, reactions, and anything else that might happens at the event.” He tried to move only to find Fox Feather settling in on his other side while Fizzpot took Moon River out of the room. “Also, when are we going to hold the ceremony for Fox Feather?”
“Perhaps we should go away for the weekend and have something private? Things seem to be really hectic recently,” Lunar Fang noted.
“True, but I do not want to exclude the Gryphon Slayers. They are too important not to have present at the wedding.” He smiled and kissed both of them. Matthew was still weirded out that he had two mares, while Pensword was proud to have a means to continue his bloodline through two great warriors.
“You mentioned running through your draft. I think we’d both like to hear it,” Fox Feather replied with a nuzzle.
Pensword blushed. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Mares and Stallions of the courts of Equestria, I stand before you this evening, having let you all scheme, plot, and create the factions you wish, and quite frankly, I am sick of it. I stand for one purpose here, to give my full weight as High Duke of Ys to Princess Luna’s bill. I do hereby pledge my wealth, sacred honor, and even my life to this bill. A thousand years of peace has been granted, but, there are those that are starting to question if Princess Celestia is as powerful as history claims.” He took a moment to pause for effect. “History underestimates her power.” He laughed as he looked at the two mares. “That is as far as I have gotten.”
“You’re prepared for the nobles attempting to make their own armies?” Lunar Fang asked.
“Yes. Why do you think I am working with Hammer Strike and High Chieftess Luna first? It is going to be my military. The bill will clearly state that the High Duke of Ys cannot have an army for his own, as he is to lead the Armies of Equestria. There will be laws that demand levies of the Nobles for any national threat, and finally, and the credit here goes to Matthew and the other Humans, the nobles’ armies cannot attack each other. They are to be response units for national disasters or invasions into our own lands, essentially what Matthew calls a National Guard network.” He slowly began to chuckle. “However, I am not going to reveal this all at once. I want to see what those nobles try doing to wrest control from the Mistress of War,” he said. All three of them knew only too well which princess he meant.
“This all brings up another issue,” Lunar Fang pointed out. “We need a foalsitter.”
“Really?” Pensword asked, surprised. “I was hoping she could annoy folks like Blueblood with her crossbow,” he teased. “Also, isn’t Fizzpot her foalsitter at the moment? As I recall, Cadence is going to be there as a special envoy, so she can’t sit.”
“I think he deserves at least one night off,” Lunar Fang noted. “He’s done so well, and has been surprisingly well behaved.”
“We’ll ask him what he wants. Still, who do we ask then if that’s the case?” He paused before laughing. “The Blade Feathers might enjoy watching the goddaughter of the their clan leader. I doubt the Demon Slayers would be willing to miss the gala, but the rest already adore her, and she’s begun to get along with the cubs.”
“Will you ask Grif tomorrow?” she looked at him. “I have a few things to take care of in Ponyville.”
“Of course. Wait that means we are going to have a late day tomorrow. Are you sure you can handle that? We just got our sleep schedules back to normal.”
Fox Feather made a startled cough.
“I’ll be fine,” Lunar Fang assured him. “I’ll leave early, so I shouldn’t be out past noon.”
“Sounds good.” He yawned as he looked at the two mares. “Should we, well, get going for our night? Fox Feather, you need some sleep,” he noted critically. “The Unit isn’t giving any problems yet, are they? Also, hopefully we can start on our barracks complex after Hammer Strike’s wedding.”
“Nothing to report,” Fox Feather said with a yawn. “The integration is going well; however, the two cross-species, they might be coming for you to do their wedding.”
Pensword paused. “And you are worried I would deny it due to them being….” He gave a soft chuckle. “Those Gryphons proved themselves. If they come to ask, I shall perform the ceremony.” He smiled. “Now, let us see how the compound is tonight.”
Grif waited patiently in his office. He had requested a private meeting with Big Guns for a plan that had been brewing in the back of his mind for a while now. Fortunately, the warrior in question still kept his promptness from his Pony days, though he had begun to drink more often, and engaged in a few other more bovine behaviors as he adjusted to his new nature.
“You wanted to see me, Grif?” Big Guns asked.
“Close the door behind you and have a seat, Big Guns,” Grif ordered.
“If this is about the bonfire in the Everfree, I can explain,” the Minotaur said agitatedly as a brief spurt of his older personality and self manifested.
“I could care less about that, Big Guns. And please, you’re not in trouble. I just need to be cautious.” Grif gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
“You sure that can support Big Guns?” the Minotaur asked dubiously as he looked it over.
“Believe me,” Grif smiled as he looked at the chair, “it’s stronger than it looks.”
Big Guns shrugged and sat down heavily after removing his giant Battle Hammer from his back. “So what you need Big Guns for then, Grif?” He had learned long ago to control his tendency to call other creatures puny, though he had managed to defeat a gryphon or two before Grif and Thalia reined him in.
“Well, to be honest, nothing,” Grif said before he passed over what seemed to be official-looking documents. “Who I need right now is Sir Reginald, Duke of Chapton.”
“Then why send for me?” He snorted. “You need me to deliver these to him or something?”
“No, Big Guns. When you arrive at the gala, until you are told otherwise by me, you are going to be Sir Reginald. These documents are your patents of nobility from the Stampede Grounds, your battle honor records, and your license as a diplomatic representative. You will be assuming this identity for a very special task.”
“You want Big Guns to lie? What if the other Minotaurs find out?”
“Do you know how many Minotaurs from the Stampede Grounds have visited the gala, Big Guns?” Grif asked as he leaned on his desk, tenting his talons in a steeple.
“No, Big Guns can’t say he does.”
“Fewer than five,” Grif noted. “Despite being technically at peace, the culture that you have been thrust into is somewhat of a darkzone to Equestrian high society. The Guard will see no extra reason to trust you, but they will have no extra reason to watch you either, and that serves our purposes very well.”
“Which are?”
Grif slid a simple hinged wooden box over to the Minotaur. “During the gala, you will meet with several important nobles, as well as trade barons, media moguls, people vital to make this country work smoothly. Using what is in there, you will commit potentially the greatest tragedy in Equestrian history.”
“You want Big Guns to commit treason?” The Minotaur growled, grabbing his war axe from its holster at his belt.
“Open the box, Big Guns,” Grif said.
The Minotaur snorted angrily. “Yes or no, Grif.”
“I am asking you to help me prove the necessity for a united military in this country. Look in the box, Big Guns.”
Big Guns snorted in annoyance, but relented, though he kept his body tense just in case. opening the box, he pulled out what looked for all the world like a pen with intricate carvings. He sniffed it experimentally. “Charcoal?”
“Hypothetically, let's say this stick of charcoal is a syringe loaded with a very deadly neurotoxin that is time delayed. A small pin prick and just a tiny drop of this substance, and the person injected will be dead within six hours. You will be in the least suspicion, so you will be our hypothetical assassin. Fear is a powerful unifier, Big Guns, but it needn’t always be applied bluntly. Now, as a friend, will you help me?”
“What do you want Big Guns to do?”
“To ‘assassinate’ all of the most vital government, economic, and media based Ponies at the gala using your ‘syringe,’” Grif said, gesturing to the charcoal stick.
“And that’s all?”
“That's all.” Grif nodded.
“I’m not exactly stealthy, Grif,” Big Guns pointed out. “But I can try. Maybe get some lessons from Camo and Espio?”
“Oh, I’ve arranged for you to receive the lessons you need, as well as a new wardrobe. And don’t worry. I am paying you for this.”
“And that pretty cow won’t be there?” he asked nervously.
Grif chuckled. “Not as far as my contacts can tell.”
“Alright. You have a deal.” Big Guns rose and extended a thick hand over to Grif.
Grif grabbed it in his talons and shook it. “And remember. Not a word. I’ll come to you with the details.”
“You can trust Big Guns,” the Minotaur promised, then rose, took his battle hammer in one hand and the box with the other, and left.
Shawn sighed to himself as he rolled his wrists around with a few cracks. Years outside of his human form left him feeling disoriented and thrown off balance when he turned back. Because of that, he felt the need to stay Human for some time, primarily to readjust. After a few moments he leaned back in his chair, placing his feet up onto the empty corner of his desk, and just sat there thinking to himself as he let the world go by. After Thought ended up taking a good chunk of his work out of the picture, and now he was left with some more free time than he was ever used to. He thought back to past adventures, to his old life, his time with The Doctor, the day he was destined to….
“You know, it’s getting stranger to see you in that form,” Grif said as he entered the room.
Shawn looked over at Grif for a moment before relaxing again. “To think we started like this, eh? Born and raised on Earth, lived our lives on Earth, and then one day, poof. Here we are….”
“Yes, but I was also raised on Equis.” Grif chuckled. “It’s doubly awkward.”
“To be expected,” Shawn replied, shrugging. After a moment he groaned. “I feel old. Mentally, that is. It doesn’t help that by Human standards I shouldn’t be able to keep doing these adventures. Heck, how old am I now, fifty, sixty?”
“Somewhere around there plus a thousand years,” Grif said casually.
“Not helping the part of me feeling old.”
“That’s the sad part. By equestrian standards, you're not even old yet.”
“Yeah, and that means I have a whole lot more….” he paused, sighing. “Yeah.”
“What do you do with all that time?”
“Wait for the inevitable, doing anything and everything until the end.”
“That's kind of bleak,” Grif noted.
“Well, when you have the knowledge that I have, you don’t have much else to think on.”
“Ah, the curse of power,” Grif said.
“No, the curse of knowledge.”
“Knowledge is power.”
“Yeah.” Shawn frowned. “Grif, listen. I, uh… jeez, I don’t even want to say it.”
“We usually avoid saying the important things,” Grif said as he stood on his hind paws and folded his arms. “What is it?”
“The TARDIS showed me information. On myself. Specifically.…” He took a breath. “The day I’m going to die. And it isn’t very far off...”
“You know that the TARDIS can’t see everything, right?”
“I saw a glimpse of it. She isn’t wrong.”
Grif’s expression darkened. “How long?”
Shawn shook his head. “Just know it isn’t that far off. I still have a bit of time left, but … I refuse to say it.”
“And I refuse to believe it,” Grif said vehemently. “The past is solid, but the future is unsubstantial and formless. We aren't slaves to some preset design that says what will happen to us.”
“Then know this. If events follow the path I saw the end of, I won’t be returning, and the worst part is I don’t know the path.”
“Then don’t try to prevent it,” Grif said pointedly. “We both know that's the worst thing you could do.”
“Yes, yes, to attempt to prevent it will lead to it. I know.”
“Well I hope it doesn’t happen. I always figured I’d be the first one of us to die. I’m the plucky one. That’s my place in this story.”
“Amusing, considering as a Gryphon you’re supposed to be the one to outlive us,” Shawn replied. “Another thing, Grif. Please keep this between us.”
“I can think of a million reasons not to tell anyone else, and no real good ones to tell them, so don’t worry about that. Pensword would be up and stressing all the time trying to talk you out of it, and Vital may end up trying to take your place.”
“Part of me wishes you saw that glimpse, but at the same time, I don’t want anyone to see what was happening….”
“Well, if you are going to die, then you should try to enjoy every moment to its fullest. Less time in the forge, more time up here with the rest of us.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“Old friendships die harder.” Grif chuckled.
“Got that right.” Shawn grinned. “Knowing you guys, I’d suspect some sort of plan to bring me back.”
“I’d fight death himself if that's what it takes.” Grif smiled at him. “You know I would.”
“I know, but that wouldn’t change much. Death isn’t that threatening.”
“Hey!”
“Not talking to you, Death. Get out of here and get back to your job,” Shawn commented idly as he looked over to the robed figure.
Death grumbled as he phased through the wall, throwing several dirty looks in Shawn’s direction.
“I guess I’ll have to find that out when the time finally comes.” Grif shrugged. “I don’t have the luxury you do there. I’m blinded by these eyes I have.”
Shawn simply chuckled as he relaxed into his chair once more. “I missed these conversations.”
“I do, too,” Grif agreed. “How do you deal with it? So many lives depending on you.”
“I’m a really good actor,” Shawn joked. Then he sobered. “Honestly, I don’t know. I felt bothered by it at first, but then I found myself working into it. I felt the need to lead them down this path, an honest path.”
“Yesterday, when we dedicated the compound, and I saw all those faces looking back at me, I felt a chill go up my spine. Over two hundred lives putting themselves in my hands. I’m not a leader. I’m not even a real gryphon. I’ve never led more than forty or fifty, and those where war bands, and even then I had high casualties. It scares me to no end to know if i screw up, they all could die.”
“Then don’t screw up,” Shawn replied. “You’ll lead them fine, Grif.”
“Thanks, Shawn,” Grif said as he looked down at his talons. “I just hope you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
A long silence followed. Finally, Grif broke it.
“Well, I’ve got stuff to do. Don’t overwork yourself, Shawn.” Without another word, the Gryphon left..
Shawn simply laughed at the comment as he leaned further back into his chair. After half an hour passed, he faintly heard a set of hooves moving towards his door, said hoofsteps following a specific uniform pattern of movement. “Come in, Pensword.”
“I shall, Hamme–Shawn?” Pensword asked in shock as he reared his head back. “I ... I have not seen you in human form in a long time.” He chuckled. “I thought you finally consented to the superiority of the Equine form for Equestria.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips.
“Nah, not giving up on fingers just yet. The fine control is useful to an engineer,” Shawn replied with a grin.
“True, but fromw what I have seen, what I have done with my hooves and wings, it can work. It has worked.” He looked around the office before finding his usual cushion. He easily flew over, grabbed it, and placed it before the desk before alighting on it to stare at Shawn. “I still feel like an oversized dog sitting on this,” he admitted. “Or a beanbag chair.”
“Want a biscuit to make you feel better?” Shawn joked.
Pensword groaned. “I flew right into that cloud,” he muttered, hanging his head shaking it with a wry chuckle. He looked up. “So how goes the day? I am about to end it, once Lunar Fang gets back from Ponyville. Also, where is Polished Brass and your staff? You haven’t sent them away, have you?”
“No, no. They just simply finished their work in this area. As for the day, it is going… slowly. I’ve been trying to ... relax, I guess. How are Lunar Fang and the young one?”
“Moon River is currently out terrorizing the camps with three Thestral foals and one Pegasus,” Pensword answered. A flicker of pride shone in those eyes, even as he shook his head. “The Kitsune have been having fun with teaching her hiding techniques. I think she won some kind of bet with them.” He paused. “Does that mean the Kitsune are going to be attending your wedding? What will they do during the gala?” He shook his head as he realized he hadn’t finished answering Shawn’s last question. “As for Lunar Fang, she is doing well. She’s been a little moody, but then again, she is with a foal again, so she is visiting Ponyville. I don’t know what about this time. I think it is to pick up food at the market.”
“Wow, that is something I didn’t think on… I mean, I’d love to have Haku here for the wedding, but from what I hear, I doubt they would enjoy him coming out this far from home.” Shawn hummed. “With the gala on the way, I need to tell them I have to delay the trip … again.”
“I am sure they will understand. And if he learns you are getting married, I think they will let him go … with a large personal guard,” he amended. “I’d better start clearing land for a visitor’s quarters. Uh … with your permission. This town, we need more ponies working here.” He was starting one of his spirals, so Shawn was quick to act.
“We have a staff of nearly two hundred servants, artisans, and craftsmen, with more on the way once they finish the first building, which just happens to be an inn, in a way.” Shawn replied. “Primarily to hold the workers, but later to be for visitor use. They just have to work on finishing the clearing for the first ring of the city, pave the roads, and then the building will be started.”
Pensword sighed happily. “I am so relieved to hear that, and I want to apologize for the mix-up with my Thestrals.” He chuckled. “Still, we are becoming the melting pot of Equestria now. Which reminds me, how is El Fluffy?”
“Roaming and relaxing wherever he can, unlike Renati, who is currently resting on his perch, staring at the back of your head with indifference.”
“I saw him on the way in. Any news? I thought I heard a rumor that he might be a father,” Pensword said, flicking an ear in the Phoenix’s direction.
“He likes the Canterlot visits for a reason.” Shawn chuckled.
“I can only imagine why.” He looked around him. “It will be interesting to see how this place looks in ten years, fifty, a hundred.” He yawned before continuing. “I will treasure these visits. I do not know when I will have to fully live in Ys, but I know we will always be friends.”
“I guess we’ll see how long until you have to move out there, eh?”
“Indeed. I hope not for another year at least. I still have to deal with the troops here and work with both Celestia and Luna. Plus, it is easier to travel to Canterlot from here then Ys.”
“I kind of expected that.”
“So would you care for some tea before Lunar Fang, Moon River, and I sleep for the rest of the day? I think Moon River would love to try and hit you with a dart. It would be nice to host my good friend Shawn at least once to a nightly Tea event,” He said with a smile.
“I’d enjoy that.” Shawn smiled in return, though a sadness still hovered at the edge of his eyes. He would only have so long to enjoy his time with Pensword and the others. He would have to make every moment count. He would make every moment count.
Sweat beaded Vital’s brow as he handled the sphere once again, busily rotating it around his head as he read over the beginnings of his next chapter in the book.
“‘Elemental magic is some of the most basic and powerful magic a Unicorn can muster. This is why most famous mages have a special branch that they are most well known for.’” He panted slightly as the magical ball increased in its weight. “So we’re going into elemental spells?”
“Very good.” Clover slow clapped as she produced a thin sheet of paper. “First we’re going to see what you align with best,” she explained. “Put your horn to this and send in a small bit of magic.”
“Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before. You wouldn’t happen to have gotten that paper from a parallel universe involving ninjas and jutsus while you were traveling with The Doctor, would you?” Vital asked as he placed his horn against the paper. Furrowing his brow, he closed his eyes and concentrated to siphon off a little of his magic and pump it into the target without letting his levitation lose integrity. The paper became rigid in the air moments before falling to the ground and shattering like glass.
“Where I received this tool of arcane studies is none of your concern, and I believe you will acknowledge this, unless you’d prefer a thousand years of pain?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“If this is how you teach, I shudder to think what Star Swirl did to you.” He chuckled momentarily, then winced as the strain on the magical ball suddenly tripled. “It was a joke!”
“So it seems ice comes most naturally to you. That’s notably strange.”
“How come?” Vital gasped, his legs wobbling as the pressure and weight continued to increase thanks to the added input from Clover’s horn on top of his own.
“Because it’s a composite element. Ice isn’t found in nature on it’s own. It has to be where water and frigid air mix. Water and air. But you don’t show a particular advantage for these on their own.”
“I haven’t exactly tried with them much either,” Vital noted. “We’ve mostly been working on building my strength and endurance.”
“Okay then, try and make a small puff of wind,” Clover said, crossing her hooves.
“Um … how would I go about doing that again?”
“Concentrate on the wind and push.”
Vital Spark grunted in exertion as his horn glowed a little brighter, but little more than a weak puff of air blew there, not even distinguishable from the cold drafts of the castle. Vital panted as he let his magic go, dropping the ball onto the stones as he collapsed onto the ground, his four hooves splayed out beneath him. “That … was hard.”
“I suppose if I asked you to make a water ball from the water in the air, that would prove equally difficult,” she said.
“I’m guessing that would depend on the humidity, but yeah.” His breathing had slowed somewhat and he pulled himself up into a sitting position.
“That's because you're splitting your magic to do it,” she explained. “Manipulating the elements separately, or other elements entirely, isn’t beyond you, but first you need to be able to manipulate your element. Magic potential will only get you so far. The muscle must be worked to gain strength and endurance.”
“So you’re basically saying I need to work on the ice first because that one is technically like my core, and by getting stronger there, I can gradually work to strengthen the other parts of my magic that extend from it?”
“Well, you can be taught!” she said, smirking. “When we’re done today, check and see if Twilight has Wind Storm’s elemental reference guide. Then you need to read the chapter on ice until you have it memorized. Okay?”
“Sounds like I’m going to be up for a while tonight,” Vital said with a tired smile. “But progress is progress. Thanks for that, Clover.”
“Sleep is for the weak is the life philosophy of all scholars, my friend,” Clover said.
“Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy and wealthy and wise,” Vital quoted back. “It’s an old saying from Earth. I can be a night owl when I want to be, but since I have to train with the guard, too, I need to learn to keep things in balance. That includes sleep.”
“Then you’d best figure out how to develop a photographic memory. Your magical training is as important as your physical training.” She looked through a pile of scrolls beside her.
“I think I’ll write a letter to Shining Armor. See how he balanced it out. Considering how strong he is both magically and physically, I’m guessing he figured it out.”
Clover let out an, “Aha!” of triumph as she levitated a scroll with a tiny snowflake emblem on its ribbon. “This is a simple ice spell. It’s called pinpoint subzero.” She rolled her eyes “The creator had a flare for the dramatic. Personally, I just call it icicle missile. It creates a small singular sharpened icicle that flies in a straight line to theoretically puncture the target. It’s not particularly useful against opponents in plate armor, but it can be particularly deadly against chainmail. Learn it by next week.” She handed him the scroll.
“Any more homework?” Vital asked.
“You have enough on your plate,” she said. “It’s funny. A white unicorn, ice type magic, this is all sounding very familiar. It reminds me of an old Zebra myth I heard once.”
“Really? I love myths!” Vital perked up immediately. “Do you think you could tell it to me?”
“If you master that spell by our next lesson, then I’ll tell you.” She smiled. “Run along now. I have to work on my class schedule for the rest of the troops.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vital said, smirking with a playful salute as he gathered the materials together, placed them in one of his saddle bags, and clopped cheerfully out the door.
“You up in there?” Grif rapped gently on the door as he waited behind it with a serving tray balanced in his hand. He’d finally found the time to visit Kalima again about the rest of the story, and he knew from the duty roster that Thalia was also free.
“Are you just going to sit out there all night, Grif? Come on in. We’ve been waiting.” Kalima smiled as Grif entered the chamber. “And what have you brought for us tonight?”
“The bakers brought me a fresh batch of these this afternoon,” Grif said as he lifted the lid, revealing several pretzels. They had apparently been heated recently, as steam still wafted off them. “Stuffed with venison.” He grinned “I left most of them for the girls, but I figured you two would enjoy some for tonight's session.”
“And how are our mothers-to-be?”
“Shrial will be happy when she gives birth, I think. She keeps complaining to herself about the extra weight. We only just confirmed Avalon’s pregnancy, so she hasn’t had any major symptoms yet,” Grif said. “The twins seem to be very active, though.”
“That’s good. It means they’ll be healthy and strong when they finally come.” Kalima smiled as she took a bite of the pretzel, savoring the flavors and textures. “What an excellent concoction. Bardock should be pleased.”
“Well, apparently we do have some skills besides stone carving when we’re handed the freedom to pursue them.” Grif chuckled. “I swear the smiths have only been working with Storm Hammer for a week, and they’ve already begun new designs for the clan’s armor that have some rather bold improvements.”
“Just be careful not to let any corrupt Gryphons get a hold of them,” Thalia said with a smirk. She was wearing her father’s talon again at her mother’s behest.
“Careful, sister. There is a fine line between paranoia and reasonable suspicion. I have the same oath of the armorers and blacksmiths as I have from every clan member, and as such, I must respect my own oaths to them. If I cannot trust my extended family, then I have been doing a very poor job at organizing our ragtag band of misfits,” Grif noted.
Thalia laughed. “I meant the ones in Gryphonia that still want to force the old ways on people. I wasn’t talking about the family,” she promised.
“Don’t worry about that,” Grif said. “I have now been issued an imperial warrant to run my clan carte blanche of the empire, and order it as I see fit. We are, after all, not a clan of the Empire of Gryphonia, but the first Gryphon clan of the quadarchy of Equestria.” Grif smiled. “If a Gryphon is found trying to influence our clan’s organization, it is treason against five crowns,” he promised her. “Be at ease. All is well”
“So, are the two of you ready to continue? We’ve still a ways to go, and only a few short hours before this old bird will need her rest,” Kalima said.
“Ready when you are,” Grif said as he sat down. Thalia simply nodded as she munched her pretzel.
Our wedding night was a quiet ceremony, and fairly rushed. Fortunately, as a part of any military escort, a priest from the Temple of Winds joins to teach and perform the necessary rites for departed troops. It was not often that they performed a marriage ceremony, but the practice was slowly becoming more common as the militia and guard allowed more females to join their ranks. You should have seen the poor priest’s face when we handed him the stone and asked him to marry us.
“You want me to what?” he exclaimed, wide-eyed, and more than a little frightened.
“You are allowed to perform ceremonies, aren’t you?” Charelle asked.
“But with the emperor’s talon?” he squawked.
“Why? Is that a problem? It’s already been properly prepared.”
“And besides, what better way to seal a marriage than with a sign of the emperor’s favor? Surely the winds will bless us for it,” I said.
The priest gulped, but under the hardness of Charelle’s gaze, he relented. It was a short ceremony. There was no fanfare, no great noise, just a few soldiers to act as witnesses and the ceremony of blood. Gifts weren’t necessary when we had each other. Besides, I was pretty sure Charelle would be giving me plenty of gifts later that night. It turns out I was right.
Thalia blushed, even as Grif burst into laughter.
“I have no qualms about mentioning our more intimate moments, Thalia. It’s not as if I’m about to go into graphic detail.” Kalima smiled mischievously, even as she took a drink of water before continuing.
After some very satisfying hours, Charelle and I finally relented to common sense and the need to sleep. If we were to keep up the pace necessary to get away, we would need to be able to walk and fly steadily. I … I still remember how he whispered so gently to me that night. I felt perfectly safe next to him, and the warmth of his body and his arms around me sent me off to sleep.
… If only I had stayed awake.
“Kalima! Kalima! Wake up. It’s time to go!” Charelles voice filtered through the haze of my slumber. He was already fully armed and in his armor. The urgency pushed me to wake faster.
“Did something happen?” I reached for the items Haydee had given me. My own armor had already been laid for me to don.
“The Northeast Wind has been satisfied, but we must leave now,” Charelle said.
“Why do I smell smoke?”
“I will explain later, Kalima, but we must fly now!”
“What about the rest of the camp?” I remember him taking my arm then. I think it was the only time he ever handled me so roughly.
“They’ve already made their escapes. It will be weeks before the emperor can send troops, and we will be long gone by then.”
“But–”
“Winds damnit, Kalima, come on!” His eyes were hard and dark, angry. His feather seemed almost to glow as he pulled me into the air. The fields and forest were alight with flames. The smoke stung my eyes as we rose higher and higher still. I remember cries of alarm, a few shrieks, and the cries of women and children as they rushed to put out the fire. The one thing that stuck with me the most though, is a cry I will never forget. A great, piercing wail chased us as we flew above the cloudbanks. It was a wail I knew only too well. My heart made that sound on the night that my parents died. That wail was soon joined by others. They chilled me, and yet Charelle pulled me even faster, as if all he wanted to do was to get away from those screams. His face was stony, set into a scowl the likes of which I had never seen before. A shadow seemed to have crossed his visage, changed it. His eyes and feathers glowed a rusty red in the rising sun.
“‘And so mine enemies, having done me great wrong, called for righteous vengeance upon their heads. I therefore levied upon them my swift and brutal justice, as is deserved by they who would harm me, my clan, or those to whom I spread my wing,’” Charelle quoted as we flew. “Book of winds, Volume 16, Chapter 8, Paragraph 57.”
“Wait, what?” Grif cried. “What psyco said that?”
“You did, my son, or so the scribes claim,” Kalima said.
“But I never said anything like that. I never wrote anything for the book, or had anything transcribed. I’m going to write to Daedalus. That's false information!”
“You might want to write to the new Winds Father instead. I believe he is the one responsible for governing our faith, is he not?” Kalima sighed heavily. “If only he had known back then.”
“Oh I will,” Grif said. “Sorry for the interruption. Please continue.”
“Charelle. Charelle, talk to me. What did you do?” It had been hours since we’d left the camp. A rich cloudbank hid us from sight as we stealthily flew, doing our best to avoid any form of pursuit that might be mounted, though Charelle had informed me that would likely not be necessary.
He stopped for a while in silent contemplation. Finally, he opened his beak to speak. “I killed every adult male below fifty years of age, including my brothers.” His eyes were tired as he looked into mine. “And I burnt them.”
I don’t know exactly what happened for a time after that. One moment I was flying, the next thing I knew, I was lying on a cloud. The shock of it alone was enough to strike me into silence. I remember trembling, shaking. The cloud beneath me began to vibrate with me. My husband had not only taken vengeance on the ones who had harmed me, he had killed their sons, and in some cases their fathers. He had disfigured them for all eternity, leaving them to fly painfully on the winds, if they could ever fly at all. “And their wings?”
“I left them that dignity,” he said. “Only those of the ones you confirmed did I take.”
I honestly didn’t know what to say at that point. This was the battleborn. This was what Charelle had become. He had actively chosen to kill every one of them brutally, and with little to no remorse. What happened after that is difficult to recall. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had blocked them specifically because of the conflict I now had to resolve within myself. Charelle had acted on the words of scripture he believed gave him the right. But he also chose to use it as justification for the kills he had made, rather than seek another way. I remember feeling cold, and to an extent, very much alone. We didn’t talk much after that. He probably thought that I was silently judging him. And perhaps I was. I honestly can’t remember. All I do know is that the time eventually came when we got to the ship, and it was there that he and I were forced to address the problem of his actions. Our marriage had its rocky start, that’s for certain.
Kalima sighed heavily and shook her head. “The rest isn’t very important. Charelle struggled to make up for his actions that night to me for many years. And for many years, I remained barren. No matter how much we both wanted a child, I just couldn’t. A piece of me wouldn’t let go of what had happened that night. It wasn’t until we found the ceremony that I was finally able to let go of that piece that kept me from having a child, from having you, Thalia.” She lovingly stroked the side of Thalia’s face. “You are the legacy your father always hoped to leave. And you have given him the rest his spirit always yearned for, but could never have in this life.” She embraced Thalia warmly as she let the tears fall.
“Mother …”
Grif couldn’t help but smile at the touching scene. Knowing only too well when a woman needed her alone time, he stealthily slipped out the door. He shifted his wing for a moment and stared at his own metallic feather in contemplation. The story had taught him many things, both of errors to correct, and of the importance of treating his mates well. In the sea of chaos that was his life, they were his guiding lights. They, and all his friends. He smiled as he lowered his wing and made his way to his personal quarters. He had a few ladies to spoil.
“So, Rarity,” Grif said as the mare worked to regain his measurements. “Normally I tell you to go simple, but this time I need something … flashy. Not overly elegant or refined, but easily eye catching. I want to try and keep a lot of nobles distracted for as long as possible.”
“Why, whatever for, darling? I know that little glint in your eye. What’s the plan, hmm?” Rarity asked as she ran her measuring tape over the Gryphon’s form. “Hmm. How does silk suit you? I can add a few accessories for shine, really make the colors stand out. That should keep their attention away for a bit, especially if Fancy Pants compliments you. Do that and the nobles will be eating out of your hand. You may want to have a little chat with him about that before the dance.”
“I trust you’re aware of princess Luna’s announcement for the gala?” Grif asked.
“One is open to certain privileges when one’s coltfriend happens to be a legendary lord.”
“I’m attempting an operation to ensure we don’t have a hundred minor lords with standing armies threatening full blown war because someone looked at them the wrong way.”
“That does tend to happen an awful lot, doesn’t it? You still haven’t answered my question though, Grif. Silk, or some other fabric? I do have a lovely velvet if you prefer.”
“Which is less likely to wear down by the end of the night? Silk is great and all, but I wouldn’t want to tear it by accident.”
“Well, I suppose I could always try my new experimental fabric. I used it for one of Hammer Strike’s more formal designs so he can be ready, even at a noble event. I called it KEVLAR. You’d be surprised how versatile it is, and it breathes so well, too. Though I did have some trouble getting the diamond dust to meld with the fabric for a time.”
“That sounds great, Rarity, but do you think you could use emeralds instead? Quite partial to green, you know.”
“Darling, the diamond dust isn’t for show; it’s for strength. Emeralds just don’t stand up the same way, and to be perfectly frank, the diamond dust doesn’t even show on the fabric. I can sew the emeralds in with that new emblem you had made for your compound though. That would be a nice touch.”
“I guess I’ll leave it to the expert. I realize you’re spectacularly busy right now, but do you think you could drop by to see Kalima, Shrial, and Avalon about their dresses? I’ll compensate you, of course.”
“I won’t hear of it. Why, it’s a simple walk down the path. Though you may want to invest in a little weeding, darling. Those black shoots are starting to get a little overgrown, and they look positively ghastly in the middle of the road like that,” she tutted, jotting down a few final notes before removing her materials. “Alright, Grif, you’re done. Pensword, if you could come along back here, please?”
Pensword trotted up to the dais while Grif took his place watching by the door. “As you know, Lunar Fang and I both gave you the designs for the outfits. I hope you do not mind that I would like having a main outfit fit for an officer, rather than a noble.”
“Pensword, it’s positively perfect. What better way to show off for a bill than to be properly garbed in formal military rebalia? It’s so romantic,” she swooned, even as her magic lined the measuring tape over his barrel, legs, and withers.
“Yes, but remember, Lunar Fang and Fox Feather get the romantic evening. You get to be with Lord Strike,” he answered with a chuckle.
“And that, my dear Pensword, is positively heavenly.” She sighed wistfully as she began sketching up a design. “Do you mind tassels, dear? I think they’d look positively ravishing on you.”
“I agree, that would do well,” Pensword said. “You could do the same with Lunar Fang and Fox Feather.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to modify them slightly to be more neutral. Epaulettes are so last season, and besides that, they focus too much on the colts, not nearly enough on the ladies. I assume you want them to function formally while still ringing along the lines of a military uniform, correct?”
“Military Uniforms do not change by season,” Pensword said. “A Military Uniform, especially this style, is formal.”
“Military uniforms are generally the armor and not much else, darling.”
“I will be changing that. These are to be non combat formal KEVLAR uniforms to be worn at galas and unit parties.”
“I’ll make sure to send you my formal sketches for approval by tomorrow evening.”
“Thank you. And while I am here, can I have a nice–” He broke off. “You do still have the measurements for my human form, right?”
“I keep them on record, yes, but with all the exertions you’ve been making in this one, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were obsolete by the time you change back.”
“Okay,” Pensword replied as his ears flattened. “Still, I guess I have everything taken care of. You’ll talk to Lunar Fang and Fox Feather when you go to speak to Kalima, Shrial, and Avalon?”
“Naturally. I still need their measurements after all, and I’m sure they’ll likely want some special additions to be made.”
“Of course.”
“Alright. All done, Pensword. Now comes the challenge. Oh, Big Guns, darling, won’t you step up here, please?”
Big Guns smiled sheepishly as he made his way up onto the platform. “What do you need Big Guns to do?”
“Just make sure to stand there for now, darling. I need your base measurements first. Then once we’re done with that, I’ll need you to perform a few flexes and motions for me, so I can get a general idea for the amount of give I’ll need to add to the sleeves and shoulders.”
“You’ll let Big Guns carry his weapons, too, right?”
“The Grand Galloping Gala isn’t generally a place for taking weapons, but considering how often Hammer Strike did it a thousand years ago, I suppose it’s only fair to take your desire into account as well. I may need to design a new sheath for your Hammer. I should be able to work with your sword and axe belt as long as I make them a central focus. The knife belts will be a bit more interesting, but I think a nice deep navy blue should do rather nicely. Blue always goes so well with black, and the red in your mane will really help make the suit pop.” She grinned. “Flex, please,” she asked.
Big Guns did so, and she took the measurements.
“Hmm. Gold, I think. Perhaps a jewel-encrusted pocket watch. Would you be too opposed to a war cape, Big Guns? For some reason, nobles always seem to pay more attention to imposing figures when they’re wearing capes.”
“It makes them look bigger,” Grif said with a shrug. “Big gets respect around here.”
“Um … Big Guns won’t have to wear fancy gloves, too, will he?”
“Well, maybe not all the time, but it would be best to start off wearing them before putting them in your waistcoat pocket.”
Big Guns sighed, snorted, and rolled his eyes. “The things I do for Equestria.”
Rarity patted the Minotaur on the leg. “There, there. It’ll be worth it once the bill passes. Now then, Vital, you’re up. Let’s see just how much of a stallion you’ve grown into, hmm?” she asked with a teasing smirk.
“Um … I need an adult?”
Rarity laughed at Vital’s blush. “Why, darling. I am an adult.”
One very embarrassing fitting later, Vital Spark returned to join his friends, his face as red as a cherry. “Not one word, Grif, you hear me?”
“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t say one word on the subject,” Grif chuckled.
“Promise me you won’t say many or a few either.”
“I could make that promise, but then I would be lying, and I can’t lie to you.”
Vital groaned. “It’s official. I’ve become the comedic relief.”
“Actually, you’ve been that for a while now,” Pinkie Pie said with her usual grin and squee before looking off in a random direction and winking. Then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.
“... And the fourth wall breaks continue,” Vital said as he chewed one of Pinkie Pie’s newest cupcake creations.
“That’s Pinkie,” Grif said, flashing a wink to no one in particular. “Now let’s get back to the castle. You’ve still got a few miles to make up in training thanks to this little field trip.”
Vital Spark groaned and collapsed on the floor.
“Ahem,” Baron Blueblood said, clearing his throat before the crowded room. “I hereby call this meeting of the Nobles of Opportunistic Bureaucracy to order,” he said coolly, waiting for everyone to be quiet. The hall soon died down as the various nobles of the alliance looked to their chairstallion.
“Very good. Now the first order on the ballot today is the Grand Galloping Gala. I trust everyone here is attending?” The other nobles nodded, and he nodded in turn. “Very good. Lady Jet Set will be available after the meeting with the lists of color schemes and designers you can reserve for your families. As you are all aware, we’ve agreed to boycott anything produced by ‘Lady’ Rarity,” he said, choking on the title. “As well as the colors of lavender, dark blue, and light fuchsia. However, my lords and ladies, there is yet another matter about the gala that requires our utmost attention. Our sources have confirmed that this year Princess Luna will be pressing forward a bill to re-militarize Equestria, and you are all aware what that means.” Baron Blueblood smiled greedily.
“Our families have been waiting for this chance for centuries,” Pansy said with flinty eyes. Golden bits appeared to have replaced his pupils.
“Yes.” The baron nodded. “We will not only be able to assert our authority as we rightfully should, but with our combined resources and forces, we shall without fail cut the weak links off the chain and eject the so-called noble houses who would cut more of our rightfully earned privileges. You all remember that we are still bound under our legal agreement, correct? No military action is to be taken against another member of our organization until such a time as our standing is secured.”
“And just when would we be certain of our ‘security,’ Baron Blueblood?” Fel Jade asked with a skeptical brow.
“When we are the true rulers of the seats of government, and we once again can appoint the commoners the House of Commons. By that point in time, we can make sure to control anypony they elect chairpony,” Baron Blueblood responded. “Hopefully by that time, our marriages will have tied our houses together into a strong united front to show against Princess Luna.”
“And what of her Thestrals? With Fel Jade’s little debacle, and the Crystal Empire’s offers for marriage, we have no way to control those savages.”
“My dear Duchess Pansy, the answer is quite simple. We don’t. What better way to control them than to make them give in to their own savagery by appointing them leaders of the future Military Orders of Equestria? We may have to give them a castle or keep, but if we could give Princess Luna her own little military orders, we could work on eroding her image as a princess.” Baron Blueblood smirked. “If she wants a military, then let her play general with her Thestrals. Soon enough, that’s all she ever will be in the eyes of her subjects.”
“The Thestrals will still prove a substantial threat, Blueblood,” Baron Sharp Spear said with a grave expression as his chin rested on his upraised hooves. “They have maintained their military and stealth training, such that it is. Let us not forget how easily they were able to fend off the Changeling threat with a mere two squadrons. And they are loyal to their–” he grimaced “–‘chieftess’ to a fault. They are not to be underestimated, especially since our houses will be starting from scratch.”
“Then I propose that you design and draft a means to combat and counter the Thestrals, Baron Sharp Spear. Your son certainly seems to have the nack for it. Turn that sneaky little brain of yours towards their downfall.”
“I have another issue, Baron,” Lord Cookie said, raising a hoof.
“The Chair recognized House Cookie.”
“There is the issue of Lord Hammer Strike to consider. His claim to his title is old, almost as old as the founders themselves, and if my current sources are to be believed, he now controls a personal guard larger than any forces we could hope to muster, even combined. On top of this, he has the loyalty of nearly every Gryphon mercenary in Equestria, a Gryphon-made warship of immense size and power, a Changeling hive, and if our most recent sources are to be believed, Horses from Saddle Arabia and Kitsunes from Neighpon have been spotted around his fortress. Our pool of Gryphons we can bribe has shrunken down to less than twenty percent of its former volume. Where are we to gain soldiers for this enterprise within the necessary timeframe?”
“I am well aware of this problem, my friend. I have already sent out recruiters amongst the less savory crowds in Manehattan and Las Pegasus. I have also begun talks with mercenary groups in the Stampede Grounds, Roostralia, and two Jarl’s from Yak Yakistan. Don’t worry. We will find soldiers, proper soldiers, as soon as we can legally amass them. We will then have them train our troops in the most modern and ancient tactics so that they will be able to counter any surprises Pensword may try to throw our way.”
“How much do we have budgeted for bribes and gifts at the gala to garner support?” Jet Set asked with a sly smile.
“We currently have seventy thousand five hundred bits held in reserve, another ten thousand in liquid assets, bits, gemstones, stocks, bonds, and certain land claims in Zebrica. Anything beyond this would need to come out of the briber’s pocket,” a large brown stallion with a grey mane and tail said. His cutie mark, which had been sewed into the flank of his finely tailored suit, was a large hefty purse spilling over with bits. Much like his cutiemark, he was notably hefty.
“Thank you, Fat Purse,” Blueblood said. “Very well. Is there any other pressing business?” Baron Blueblood looked into the group, but seeing no reaction, he nodded. “Very well. I will see you all at the Gala.” And with that, the meeting was over.
Vital Spark pushed the door open and trotted through to Hammer Strike’s office. “Hey, Hammer Strike? I’ve got a question for you.”
“And that would be?”
“Well, I’m not exactly an expert on marriages and stuff, and I know the traditions vary, but are you the kind of guy who wants a bachelor party, or are you more the type who just wants to relax and wait till the big day?”
After a few moments, Hammer Strike replied. “I honestly haven’t even thought about it.”
“And what about the best colt and groomsmen?”
“I mean, I thought that part was a bit of an obvious choice,” Hammer Strike replied simply.
Vital shrugged. “Fair enough.” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I learned a new spell,” he finally said.
“I heard you’ve been advancing in your studies. Which spell in particular?”
“It’s essentially a frost bolt, like the one you can cast in World of Warcraft, but it lets me cast it in miniature with multiple icicles, too, if I want.”
“I’ll pretend I still remember the game,” he replied. “But that’s good to hear.”
“You know, it really sucks you still have trouble remembering things from back home. I know you’re making Equestria home now, but I don’t want you to forget where you come from, you know?”
“You have to realize. I want to remember, and keep remembering, but for me, I’ve spent most of my life here in Equestria. Peter and Matthew each have dealt with their memories being mixed together. They try to remember a year ago, and they remember two stories, but both sets of memories are perfectly clear. I got everything in one sudden jolt, and that is over fifty years of my life in one sudden moment. I just can’t remember it all. It’s not possible. What I have around me is what keeps my memories of Equestria in my mind.”
“So when you go back to Earth for the expedition, does that mean you’ll remember more of your human memories and less of your Equestrian ones?”
“Possibly. It depends on if I can remember locations and faces.”
“That would kinda suck if you ran into your family and couldn’t remember them.”
“I can remember them. I can’t forget my family that easily.”
“Never said you could. I was just reacting to your previous statement.” Vital Shrugged. “So I’m a little confused about something you wrote in your translation. You said aspects could be combined to form new aspects, but that they were incredibly dangerous. Are there any hidden aspects or aspect combinations that haven’t been discovered yet?”
“There is almost a never-ending amount of combinations that can be made, but the problem with that is the stability of the compound. There are ones that were mentioned that I dare not speak of, yes. And there are combinations that I don’t know.”
“So is there a way to technically fuse them all together and make a sort of … ultima materia for lack of a better term?”
“In a way, yeah, but it would kill you.”
Vital Spark whistled. “Dang.”
“Deadly stuff.” Hammer nodded.
“Note to self. Don’t ever use thaumaturgy unsupervised. Not that I would anyways.”
“I kinda did write that warning everywhere in the book.”
“So, you wanna hang out for a bit at the range? I’ve been meaning to work a little more on my aim with that pistol you gave me.”
“I could use some practice myself…”
A figure moved silently through the boutique towards Rarity, hiding behind ponyquins, slipping past fabric bolts, and under Opal. Her sense told her she was still undetected in her special mission as she moved through the shop with the grace and ease of a large jungle cat, or a small jungle cat, or a cat in general, really. Finally, she moved the last few feet silently and planted the cupcake next to the white Unicorn before tapping her shoulder and vanishing behind her.
“Huh?” Rarity turned, only to find nobody there. Then she checked her other side. Then she saw the cupcake.
Look Behind You, the cupcake read. Rarity did so hesitantly. “Pinkie?”
The entire boutique had been fine a second ago, but now the space was filled with balloons, and streamers lined the walls. A large banner spelling out CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT PARTY! hung from the ceiling at equal lengths from the upstairs railing to the shop’s upper window alcove. The large capitalized letters almost seemed to scream their message out to her.
“CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT, RARITY!” Pinkie said, invading the Unicorn’s personal space to give her a bone-crushing hug.
Rarity let loose a sound very similar to a squeaky toy before breathlessly replying. “Thank you, Pinkie PIe, but … do you think you could do a bride a favor and put me down? I … can’t really breathe.”
Pinkie pie beamed as she put Rarity down, literally bouncing in place on her hooves as she spoke at a mile a minute talking about the bachelorette party, and then the wedding party, the wedding after party, the wedding gift opening party, the baby shower (wait, what?), birthdays, anniversaries, hearts and hooves days, hearths warmings, “and you’ll both live happily ever after, and we’ll have a happily ever after party!” She stopped just as Rarity was beginning to wonder, not for the first time, where all that air came from.
“Well, thank you, Pinkie, but let’s focus on the present for now. We have quite the bridal shower to plan. I hope you won’t mind being one of my bride’s mares, would you?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a bride’s mare!” she said, hopping.
“Good. I wouldn’t dream of going to the altar without you girls.” She reached over to hug the pink party Pony. “On the off chance that your pinkie sense might be able to help me, Pinkie, could you perhaps tell me where Fluttershy is?”
“If we hurry, we might catch her in the market!” Pinkie said happily.
“Then by all means, let’s go,” Rarity said. In a matter of moments, her shop was ready to close for the day. With a final farewell, she shut the door, and the pair were on their way. “Oh, I can hardly stand it!” she said, giggling all the while.
“I guess that means I owe Applejack five bits.” Pinkie giggled as they left.
“Whatever for, Pinkie?”
“She put her money on you being first,” Pinky said, hopping happily down the road.
“She did, did she?” Rarity didn’t know whether to feel pleased or upset over that. “Oh, nevermind. I’m too happy to care. Oh, and there’s Fluttershy!” She immediately raced up to the Pegasus in question. “Fluttershy, darling, how are you?” she gushed.
“Oh, hello, Rarity. I’m doing alright. Just getting some ingredients for Angel Bunny. He’s been good this last week, so I’m making one of his favorite treats,” Fluttershy responded as she paid some bits for a cherry.
“That special little salad of his? You know, the last time you gave that to him, he was sick to his stomach for two days. Are you sure you want to put him through that again?”
Pinkie was vibrating on her hooves as she waited for Rarity to bring up the good news.
“Oh, no. That was because he ate a flower in the backyard that didn’t agree with this tummy,” Fluttershy responded with a happy smile. “I checked his scat to see what was causing him discomfort.”
“Oh. Um … well, I had something I wanted to ask you, Fluttershy. That is, if you don’t mind us going somewhere a bit more … private?” Rarity asked.
“Oh, sure. We can talk back at my place, I actually just finished.” She smiled innocently. “Besides, I want you to see your bird choir. They were so excited when they found out you were getting married.”
They soon arrived back at the outskirts of town on the border of the Everfree, and Fluttershy greeted her many animals before they made their way inside.
“So what is it, Rarity? You said you needed to ask me something, right?” Fluttershy asked as she laid out the ingredients on the counter for an impatient Angel Bunny.
“Well, dear, we’ve known each other for such a very long time, and what with the spa days and the girls’ days out, and everything else, well … I wanted to ask you. That is ... “ She fiddled with her hooves, then just went outright and said it. “Would you be my mare of honor?”
Fluttershy let loose a tiny squeal of surprise. “M-m-me?” she asked in shock. “I, Well I–” She stammered, retreating behind her mane. “But wouldn’t one of the others be a better choice? I don’t do well in front of crowds.”
“Fluttershy, you wouldn’t have to deal with any crowds. All the Mare of Honor does is help plan the wedding and celebrations. She organizes things with the bride’s mares and delegates work. And you won’t be alone. I’m asking all the others to be my bride’s mares. It’ll be just like when we planned for the Summer Sun Celebration.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that would be okay. That is, if it’s okay with you.”
Pinkie exploded in a happy cry as she glomped both her friends, and giggling, they collapsed to the floor. As the three finally rose to make plans and send messages to the others, Angel Bunny rose dazedly from the floor, having narrowly escaped being crushed to death by the excitement of three giddy mares, and made his way to bed. Fluttershy didn’t pamper him nearly enough to put up with this.
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More plotting nobles? All I can say is I can't wait til they get theirs.
I share Angel's opinion on girls talking about wedding stuff. Luckily for me, I'm a guy.
7404598 can't wait till they all got Off by Grif's secret assassin.
Somewhat confusing, Hammerstrike getting ready for the Gala, bringing back items lost in the Vault for a thousand years, yet Rarity is making her new diamond fabric for everyone, which I thought would have been bound with Titanium Silk for close to ultimate natural materials until nanotube spiders are bred. Then Shawn is going on about having seen the end of days in the Tardis, as in the transition back to Earth causes seperation of forms, like Marvel has done with a pair of their greatest characters?
Big Guns is going to be playing the part of Sir Reginald, the Bulgarian Double Agent? Is Griff carefully not telling him that the tracking pencil doesnt just mark them to show theyve been agged, but subdermally inserts a run that can be accessed from a distance and only by someone who knows what that rune is as only the casting spell causes it to reform and vibrate in response to surrounding sound which the activating spell projects through thaumic resonance?
Hopefully Celestias informants are far better in the Nobels houses than the Nobels informants are in Celestias. Then again, I wonder if Hammerstrike talked to Celestia about having an area of the gardens set aside for her special workers. Project Bletchley Park.
Great to see Pinkie feeling more like herself again, after all, if she could go Pinkamena to order, how could any mere Imperator or even army hope to stand against she who does not exist.
Chrysalis is Queen of Changelings. Luna is Queen of Nightmares, Discord is Cing Of Kaos, but Pinkie is Fausts Autobiographer.
Flutteryshy looks to be enjoying herself. I wonder if this time she will do Immigrants.
I have a feeling war has caught up with them,
oh well, JIMMY, WHERE'S MAH CROSSBOW
7404793
I believe the correct term is "get Off'ed by", to get off has a different meaning that I don't think belongs at the gala
*ready crossbow to use* I'm ready for pest control. Also TFS reference spotted. Now if only I can spot the others....