XXXIII. Northmarch, Equestria. July, 1252.
“Well then, General Hooves, I must say I am honored to meet you.” It didn't sound like a formality.
“Likewise,” she replied, then turned to the two Earth pony guards. “You may leave. And please, cut his bindings before you do.”
They complied, and as they left, Broadwings ran a finger over the lines formed by the wrist bindings cutting into his skin.
“You are trusting,” Broadwings said. “I very much desire to tear you apart.”
“But you won't, because a true gryphon does not repay trust with treachery. If you were the type of gryphon to do that, we would not be having this conversation—for a number of reasons.”
“Honor is not a straitjacket,” he said in a warning tone of voice. “You may be surprised what gryphons will justify.”
“I've certainly seen the darker side of your people,” she replied, almost theatrically. “And yes, Broadwings, I do assume you have somehow justified to yourselves the unpleasant reality that you are butchers of the living. You murder and defend it, and you murder and defend it, and yet here I am, trusting a gryphon who ordered foals to be cut out of mares' bellies. I imagine most ponies would think I'm crazy—well, assuming they don't already. Would you care for some coffee? It's very good. Punda-Milian, actually.”
“I didn't order the Preening, Mare. I opposed it. It was already going on when I arrived.”
“Yes, I'm sure.”
“You don't believe me.”
“I do. If I thought you had ordered it I would have murdered you myself, and I'd have done it as slowly as I know how. That's quite slow, by the way, I've learned more than a few things from your handiwork...” She trailed off, then shook off a rising swirl of memory and emotion with a whip of her mane. “But you're still responsible. Your soldiers helped carry it out. You did nothing to stop it.”
“I told you I argued against it,” he said, more defensively than he intended. He realized with a flash of embarrassment that he wanted her approval.
“Oh, wonderful,” she said, her voice lilting with affected delight. “We can go to the orphan camp next, and you can tell all the fillies that it's okay that your soldiers murdered their mommies in front of them, because you argued against it. Don't be mad at him, because he knew it was evil when he did it!”
“You've done just as bad, Mare," he said, his voice dark.
“I haven't soaked my fur in the blood of mothers and children.”
“You've done everything but.”
“And yet that is a rather large 'but.' Do you want coffee or not? It'll become too bitter if I leave it on any longer.”
“I like it bitter,” he snapped. He hadn't spoken to her for five minutes and he already hated her apparent habit of changing the subject after her sanctimonious barbs.
“That's a waste of Punda-Milian. Now here,” she said, handing him a mug. “Like I said, it's good.”
He took a drink, then swirled his tongue around his mouth. “It's weak,” he said at last.
“No,” she replied with a slight tone of reprimand. “It has flavor. The point of coffee isn't to prove you can handle a nastier brew than anyone else. The point is to enjoy it.”
“Flavor? It doesn't taste like anything.”
“Fine,” she shrugged. “Then I won't pour you a second cup. But don't waste this one. Bakora didn't give me much.”
“Who?”
“Zebra ambassador. Stopped by on his way back from Kali'Gryph. A charming stallion.”
“What? Lady Radako's our ambassador.”
“I don't know politics. I just know he kissed a hoof, gave me some coffee and silks, apologized but wouldn't say why, and went on his way.”
Broadwings nearly replied, but then thought better of it—there was no telling what an enemy as resourceful as the Grey Mare might be able to turn to her advantage. He saw a question beginning to light her eye, and hurried to preempt it.
“You fought an impressive battle today. I'm amazed with your ability to wring so much out of simple ponies.”
“Thank you.” She took a mouthful of coffee, found it hotter than she expected, and swallowed it reflexively. “And I'm amazed that you're still confused when ponies beat you.”
He ignored the barb, and pressed on. “It was a stunning display of generalship, Mare. I mean...Hooves. It is Hooves, right? Derpy Hooves, you said?”
“If you like.” She didn't comment on the flattery.
“Your ability to mix honor and dishonor is quite impressive.” He paused, then decided his thought was benign, and spoke. “We are often simple in that way. We do not understand that dishonor is a tool to an end; we see to be a principle just as honor is. We expect a dishonorable enemy to always be dishonorable, just as we expect an honorable enemy to be honorable. We expected living bombs, as you used last time. We prepared for that atrocity. We steeled ourselves for greater, unknown atrocities. And yet our cavalry was sliced to ribbons because you didn't use living bombs. You used a cavalry charge—the most honorable tactic of all. And that allowed you to fly the cannon up on the cliffs, and the rest, well...the rest happened.”
“I didn't do any of that with the cavalry,” she said simply. “My officers did, on their own initiative. I only told them to take the cliffs to defend the cannon. They trained their ponies. Morning Melody, I believe, started the maneuver using her own judgment. That's what you don't understand, Broadwings. This isn't a war of personalities. You aren't trying to beat me, or beat Twilight Sparkle, or even beat Celestia. You're trying to beat all of us—every single pony. And you can't beat everypony. If you tear me to shreds right now? Sure. You'll kill me. But Bon Bon will take over and do just as well. And if you kill her? Then maybe Ladyslipper will take over. Kill her? Somepony else will take over. What you don't get is that you aren't at war with Celestia or me or anypony else. You're at war with Equestria.”
“That's where you're wrong, Hooves. I do know that. That's why I oppose this invasion.”
“Did you oppose it from the beginning?”
“No. I believed that you would submit. That you would lie down in your cities and surrender. That the Pony Queen would be killed and that her death would break the spirits of the few ponies with spine enough to resist.”
“Then why did you support it? Just because you thought you could win?”
“Because balance must be—”
“—don't give me that,” she snapped. “That religious garbage is for the soldiers and you know it. I've talked to maybe ten officers this entire war who actually believe it, and none higher than a lieutenant. Why did you actually support this invasion?”
“Every gryphon has reasons for what he does. My heart is not open to your eyes.”
“Broadwings,” she said, making it clear by her voice exactly how patient she was being—and that she might not get much more patient. “You deserve to die. But you are in my tent, unrestrained, as my guest. I have not killed you because I want to get to know you. This has nothing to do with strategy or tactics or anything that might hurt your nation. Your honor won't be harmed either way. So tell me about yourself, or I leave this tent.” She raised an eyebrow, letting him surmise what she would be doing after she left.
“You wouldn't kill a general.”
“I would. You know I would.”
He stopped. He was fairly sure that even the Grey Mare wouldn't endanger her own officers' lives by taking the life of an enemy general in cold blood. Unfortunately, he had also been fairly sure about many, many other things regarding her.
“...I joined...to redeem the name of my family,” he said haltingly, “be...because my father had been disgraced.”
Derpy blew on her coffee. “I joined because you wanted to murder my daughter.” She took a sip.
“You have a daughter?” He couldn't picture her being...motherly. Being a caretaker. Having emotions.
“I did. Maybe I still do. It's hard to know. Life is difficult for the refugees. Disease. Starvation. Bandits.”
“You burn farms, too.”
“Yes. We both do. That's part of war. But I'm not to blame for the war.”
“Neither am I,” he said calmly.
“But you serve the gryphon who is responsible. Why, because your father screwed up once? Is that why?”
The comment was obviously calculated to enrage—and a gryphon understood baiting very, very well. He didn't bite. “Your Pony Queen started this war with her relentless expansion.”
“You just said you didn't believe that ancestral balance nonsense. ”
“It's not that. Well, not...not just that. Balance and ancestors aside, the fact remains that Equestria's destruction of the natural order means the death of Gryphonia. Your world expands. Ours shrinks. We had to deal with it eventually. If you must take bitter medicine, any hour is as good as any other.”
“But why now? Why now, of all times?”
“If something must happen, then the moment at which it occurs cannot be blamed.”
“You're stonewalling. There's been peace for...well, forever, almost. The same king and the same Princess weren't at war two years ago or five years ago or thirty years ago, as his father was with the same Princess, as his father was with the same Princess. Yet your king decided last year to invade. Why? This isn't idle curiosity, Broadwings. I need to know.”
“Gryphons do not presume to know the mind of His Dreadful Majesty,” he said, as flatly as he could. Maybe a little too flatly, he thought to himself.
Derpy smiled. “Of course they don't, Perry.”
“My name is Broadwings,” he snapped.
“I'm sorry, I forgot,” she said, her smile sharpening as she rose to her feet.“You're a namebearer, right? Ha...ha. I shouldn't make that mistake. Silly Derpy.”
He held his tongue. He wasn't sure where she was going with this. She walked around him slowly as she spoke, seeming as if she might pounce on him at any moment.
“It would be rude of me not to address you by your hall's name. Your court name. Your court name, Perry. Used in a court. And I only know about one court in Gryphonia, though I admit I am a very simple pony. That would be your king's court. And that means you spent quite a bit of time in the palace. So tell me, Perry. Was the great Broadwings a bootlicker without a brain? Was he going to redeem his father's name by remaining unaware of what was happening? No, no, I don't think so. Broadwings was a gryphon with drive. And a gryphon with drive doesn't sit on his pretty little lion-tail and wait for someone else to tell him what to do, does he? No. He knows what's going on.” She had again circled around to his front. She stopped walking, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Doesn't he?”
“I—“
“Tell me why you really invaded, Broadwings.”
He didn't respond.
“Tell me, Perry.”
“I am Broadwings. A namebearer will not dishonor himself by—”
“I know. You're also Perry.”
“Don't play with me,” he growled, and downed his coffee in one go. “Provocation will honor-bind me to respond.”
“I know that, too.” She sipped her coffee.
“Why are you asking me all of this? What do you think you will gain?”
“I want information. I want to understand you. To understand what exactly I'm fighting. You can help me.”
“I obviously won't.”
“I will kill you if you don't help me. I'm not bluffing, Broadwings. I will kill you and you will die alone and unseen, and frankly you are far too intelligent to simply believe that the stories of ancestral halls are true. You will die and that will probably be it, and nobody will ever know if you talked or not—not that conversing with an enemy in a war you don't support is dishonorable in the first place.”
“You'll let me leave if I stonewall, because you don't want to set a precedent of murdering surrendered officers.”
“We'll see. Would you like another cup?”
“No.”
Derpy smiled deviously. “You know, in that last battle? We didn't fly our cannon up there to the cliffs. Nope. We had Earth ponies drag them. Earth ponies are capable of astounding physical feats, you know. We're probably going to be using more mobility in our artillery deployment going forward, now that they've demonstrated how effective the concept is.”
“...why did you tell me that? What would drive you to tell me that?”
“I'll ask again before I continue. Would you like to assist me, Broadwings?”
“I am a gryphon. Telling me your plans will do nothing to change that. I will not barter secrets.”
She leaned back, gesturing with a hoof as she talked. “My biggest strengths are that I understand the way crowds think and that I am good at thinking up unexpected ways to solve simple problems. My army's biggest weakness is that my soldiers are inexperienced, and that unexpected developments have an inordinate effect on their morale. Also, my infantry will never be able to stand against a sustained lion charge, so I have to keep finding ways to nullify that disadvantage, and frankly I won't be able to forever.”
“I don't understand. What are you doing, Mare? Why are you--”
“--my personal biggest weaknesses,” she continued, her smile now malicious, “are my struggles with morality, identity, and my desire to be loved. There's also my relationship with the stallion Macintosh Apple, who is usually called Big Macintosh, with whom I spend upwards of ten hours a day, and on whom I am completely emotionally dependent. If he were to be killed, I'd probably fall apart emotionally. I also have a daughter named Dinky—not by him, mind you—who is in the Southmarch, and who I am very, very guilty about abandoning. If anything were to happen to her I might kill myself. Do you understand yet, Broadwings?”
“Mare, this is insanity. I cannot--”
“--All right then, we'll continue. I also have in this camp Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, three little fillies, though they're growing quite quickly now. Sweetie Belle is the writer of many propaganda songs, Apple Bloom is Big Mac's sister, who he protects like a daughter, and I believe Scootaloo has no special importance but the other two would defend her to the death. They would be quite easy to kill as well. Do you understand yet?”
“Mare! Are you mad?! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to tell me these things? Aren't you afraid I would tell--”
“--Good,” she nodded. “You're beginning to understand. Let's see. My logistics framework right now is nonexistent. I'm entirely reliant on local villages bringing me food and materiel, and on capturing food and materiel meant for your armies. My army is nowhere near as mobile as it appears, since it can only operate in areas where I have established relationships with each particular village. A bit of simple recon work would let you figure out where I can and cannot go. Do you understand yet?”
Broadwings' eyes opened and his pupils shrank with dawning recognition. “...If I came back to my army, I would use this to defeat you. If I told any other gryphon, they would use it to defeat you. You...you have...”
“Yes. I have sealed your fate; you will not see your home. I can't let you leave now. I absolutely can't. I can now either kill you or keep you prisoner until this war is over—and I don't keep useless prisoners. It's now out of my hooves. One or the other. You pick. Kill yourself to protect a king who will ruin your country and your people, or keep yourself alive and work with your enemy.”
“...then you have elected to kill me. I would rather die than harm my homeland.”
“Harm your homeland? Broadwings,” she said sternly. “I am considering invading Gryphonia. Strongly considering it. And I haven't ever lost a battle. If you don't tell me why this happened, I will assume it happened because your king is insane and needs to be deposed for the safety of the world.”
She leaned forward, her eye burning with the force of her will. “So this is it. You are the last gryphon I will talk to before I make my decision. You are the only gryphon I will talk to before I make my decision. If you tell me truthfully why this war has begun, I will act according to what you have said, and I will ensure you are kept safe and comfortable until we sign a peace. If you do not tell me, I will kill you, and I will not stop fighting until every holy mountain is a pile of broken rubble and bloody feathers.”
He stared at her. She stared back.
“...it's not simple,” he muttered, after a very, very long pause.
“Nothing important ever is,” she replied.
---
Mount Kali'gryph, Kingdom of Gryphonia. February, 1251.
Perry walked down the damp, cold halls, as he did for hours every day. No, not Perry. Not any more. “Broadwings” now, though he wasn't sure he'd ever live up to the name. Not that it's much of a name to live up to now, he thought. His father had been Oracle to the King. His father was no longer Oracle. And that was all that Perry—that was all that Broadwings knew about why he had been awarded the responsibility of representing his ancestral hall. It seemed like a cruel joke, almost. Harold Broadwings had been stripped of his honor for reasons none would speak—and his son was elevated despite having done nothing to warrant it in his short and sheltered life. As he walked, he approached the King's meditation chamber, where his father had once spun tales of distant crises and future dangers. It was all nonsense, of course—Oracles were always nonsense. And Perr—Broadwings hated that nonsense; it was idiotic that his family's standing had been reduced to its ability to speak vague and fanciful riddles.
But as he drew closer, he heard something coming from inside. The King's voice, speaking softly and intently. To his new Oracle, perhaps? Perhaps. He came up to the door, and listened closely.
I found what you wanted, a voice like giggling sleighbells rang in his head. The lions are going to rise up in 1204! You should do something about that unless you don't mind that they're going to rise up but I think because you asked me when they would rise up you probably would somehow mind that. But I think that's dumb because a lot of things are on fire. It's so pretty!
Broadwings put a talon in each ear-hole. He heard the voice just as clearly and sharply. The king spoke again, indistinctly.
You're cranky. You should be more specific about when “next” is if it's that important to you. If I asked you to read the next page in a story and didn't tell you what page I was on, you probably wouldn't read the one I wanted.
The king spoke again, indistinctly. Broadwings edged closer to the door.
I can't know everything at once, silly! That wouldn't even make sense. You can see a long way when you look out the window but can you see where you are on the continent? Nope!
Broadwings crept closer still. He could now make out what the king was saying: “--enever you manage to see that future, then. Have you any word on mutton production this year?”
I saw something earlier but I can't remember what it was right now. I think it was good though. I told the scribe what it was. The little boy one. He wrote it down.
“Excellent. And on internal threats?”
Hmm! I saw you alive and well but kind of upset looking and you were older and things were different in the castle and the light was funny.
“I am constantly upset, with good reason. But I am older? This is well in the future?”
Yes. I think so! Ha ha unless you get better looking as you get older!
“Heh. That hasn't been the case for decades, pony. I can relax, then?”
Broadwings shook his head in disbelief. He had never heard anyone make a joke at the King's expense. He could not imagine anyone doing so and surviving.
Relax! Ha ha ha of course you can. Hold on. You're saying--ohnonononono it doesn't work that way! There's lots of pasts and lots of futures, and if you do things differently you mess around with which ones are real to you. So if I say that something is true it only means it's true if things happen like they happened, and if you change how things happen then you change what will happen!
“Impermanence is part of existence, with threads of fate beginning and ending throughout the tapestry of the universe—but that does not mean that the threads of fate are split.”
Ha ha ha ha sure! That's true in some ways. And wrong in lots of ways! But so is everything I say ha ha and you still listen to me. And you know that you're dumb for listening to me and you still listen to me! You're funny.
Pressed up against the wall next to the doorway, Broadwings had never been so curious about anything in his life. There was a voice ringing in his head, speaking what was either profound knowledge or abject insanity, and insulting the King all the while. The King was talking to it, asking it questions about the future, and calling it “pony.” And this was the replacement of his father's services? He needed to know what was happening. He needed it like an imprisoned gryphon needed to stretch her wings. He needed it like a drowning lion needed air. And so he looked into the chamber.
And there, floating mid-air, was an upside-down pony, her eyes lazily drifting spirals, her mouth in a dumb little grin.
Hello, the voice tinkled in Broadwings' head.
---
Equestria
“I've had many gryphons refuse to tell me things,” Derpy said as she poured another cup of coffee. “I don't think I've had any who refused like that. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's an entertaining story. Kinda falls apart at the end, though. A pony with weird eyes who looks dumb but is surprisingly talented at something you thought you were supposed to be good at? That's a real creative one, Perry. I'm sure you had to look real far to find some inspiration.”
“I am not lying,” he said, as he looked intently at the dirt between his feet. “Deception is for those who do not have the courage to refuse.”
“I still don't really believe you,” she said.
“Good,” he nodded. “If you did, I would lose a great deal of respect for you. Still. It's true regardless.”
“Is the king really that obsessed with threats to his power? He's ruled longer than most gryphons have lived.”
“Longer than any other gryphon has lived,” Broadwings agreed. “But he's earned every year. The lions are constantly rebelling. The nobles are constantly trying to put their own sons and daughters on the throne.”
Derpy thought a bit. “He's trying to get them out of the country, then.”
“Them? Who? Are you talking about the nobles or the lions?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Both of 'em. You know, band 'em together and send 'em off to fight an enemy. Keep the country safe by sending the dangerous ones out to go be dangerous somewhere else. Is that what he's doing?”
Broadwings looked physically nauseated by the suggestion. “His Dreadful Majesty would not be so indifferent to the lives of warriors.”
“If he's smart he is. A good leader can't care about individual lives.”
“That...is a horrifying statement.”
“And it's one you believe wholeheartedly,” the mare replied, “even if you're too ashamed of yourself to admit it.”
---
Mount Kali'gryph
“Ah, Broadwings,” the king wheezed, scraping a talon against his beak. “I had the distinct pleasure of stripping your father of his name in this very room, in the presence of this very pony.”
“Is--is this why you dishonored him,” the young cock half-shouted, completely neglecting courtly protocol. “To replace him with this insane, riddle-speaking pony?”
The king fell silent: usually an alarming state of affairs, yet the look of confusion on his face made it clear he was not attempting to intimidate. When he finally spoke, it was in a hushed tone. “Riddles? What...what do you mean?”
“Well...I mean riddles. Riddles like what she just said. 'Things happen like they happen and if they happen to happen then happening won't happen them' and nonsense like that.”
The king turned towards the pony. “Why did you talk to this young gryphon as well as to me?” he asked. “Did I not make it repeatedly clear that secrecy was a prerequisite for our cooperation?”
You did! I didn't talk to him. I didn't even see him until he walked in the door.
The king turned back. “Did you hear our conversation?”
“I didn't hear much of what you said, Your Majesty. I heard all of what the pony said, though.”
“Did you hear what she said just now?”
“That she didn't see me or talk to me? Yes.”
The king sighed heavily. “If your father was as attuned to disturbances in the Flow as you are, then perhaps...perhaps he was not in fact the charlatan he appeared to be. I am indeed angry that you have transgressed on your sovereign's private counsel, but...but perhaps it is a useful transgression. Yes, Broadwings, this pony is my new Oracle.”
Glad to meet you, the voice chimed. I'm Screwball. I didn't see you coming but I think we're going to be friends now!
“I am honored to learn your name,” Broadwings replied hesitantly.
Yep. And you're Perry!
The cock hesitated, nodded, and bowed. The king watched him intently.
---
Equestria
Broadwings stretched out a wing, then folded it back against his body. Derpy stirred her coffee—purely out of habit, as she had neither sugar nor milk to put in it.
“He appointed me Oracle, actually,” the young prisoner said. “It was only for appearances' sake; Screwball was still the fortune-teller, but he didn't want to present her to the court because she was...well, for obvious reasons. I just stayed with her. Talked with her. Reminded her what she should be looking for. Wrote down what she said.”
“...but, what is she? What was she doing? Was she crazy or magic or what?”
“I don't have any idea. She looked like a pony. She sure didn't act like one. And most of what she said was true. That's all I knew.”
“And the king talked with her frequently?”
“Yes. He insisted on talking with her—alone, completely alone. But I would listen anyway. He kept asking her the same questions. About threats on his life. About...about other things. Private things. And the pony would answer him, but...but she'd say other things, too. She'd talk about the future of Gryphonia. She'd paint pictures of a land ruled by ponies, where gryphons begged for food, unable to coax grain out of the earth, unable to feed their herds. Of a land where bands of lion bandits stalked the countryside, murdering their former masters. Not every day. But often. Often enough that the king started asking about that.”
“But...that doesn't make sense. The borders have barely moved, and—”
“—and they've only moved because we abandoned that area after a lion rising. Ponies expand into every inch of land they can find, but your Queen has not allowed you to encroach on our borders. So, no. I did not believe Screwball. But...she can by very convincing when she wants to be. You'll find yourself trusting everything she says even if it doesn't make sense, and you won't be able to explain why except that you don't have any choice but to believe it. Like everything you think, everything you want to be, everything you are as a gryphon—or a pony, I guess—depends on believing her.”
“So what did she want? Why did she say all of that?” Derpy was leaning forward, her eye wide.
“I don't know. But he started asking her how he could stop that future from coming. And every time, she told him there was only one way: to 'kill Celestia.' Then, one day, we began preparing for war. And then, one day soon after that, Screwball wasn't there any more. That's what I know, Mare.”
“So that's it? That's why we're at war?”
“I think so.”
Derpy nodded, then ran her tongue across her lips. “You're telling me we're at war because a magic floating crazy pony who speaks in your mind and sees everything in space and time manipulated your king into declaring war, for reasons you don't know, and then disappeared once the war started.”
“Yes. That's what I'm saying, but—”
“—I know I had a crossed eye, Perry. But that really doesn't mean I'm stupid.”
“It's true. Every word of it. Every word is true.”
“I don't believe it. I absolutely don't.”
“If I were stonewalling,” he pleaded, “would I have told you about our problems with the lion uprisings? Would I have said our reasons for going to war were invalid? Would I have done that? Please, Hooves. I have taken a great risk by giving you information known only to myself, Screwball, and the king himself. I may be shamed eternally for it. Please, Hooves. Please. Do not waste my sacrifice by ignoring it.”
She had seen many gryphons begging for their lives. She had seen some, in pain, begging for their deaths. She had never seen one begging her to make their dishonorable deaths count for something.
“It's against my better judgment, Broadwings,” she said, “but I'll write Canterlot about this and send a courier. I can't act on what you've told me right now. Not alone. And I don't know if a word of it is true. But I do believe that you believe it's the truth. And that's enough for me to be interested in it.”
“Thank you, Hooves. Are we done now?”
“Yes, I think we are,” she said with a generous smile. “You've actually been really helpful. I'll talk with the guards about moving you into a nicer tent, and we'll—”
“—there is no need for that. I will never be able to return to gryphons. I will return to my family, who I hope will understand why I have done what I have done.” He lifted a talon to his throat.
“Broa—” she began, then stopped. Arguing was useless.
“Watch, Hooves. I will not die unseen. And you will learn what it is to be honorable.”
He pulled the digit across the flesh. Derpy blinked. Nothing had happened. Yet almost immediately after, the feathers on his throat began to darken, and he began to make a wet, bubbling noise. He grimaced wordlessly, and he fell to the ground, his neck gashed from side to side, blood pouring out his throat and onto the ground and into his lungs and mouth, his breath burbling through the choking blood.
Derpy stared at his body for a minute, offered a half-hearted salute, then turned and left the tent.
---
Derpy sat alone in her tent. I pushed him too far too quickly, she thought. I pushed him too damned far. I didn't mean for him to—no. No, I'm kidding myself. I knew what would happen. I knew from the beginning that he wasn't walking out of that tent. Because the Gray Mare doesn't keep prisoners. She shook her head. And now, because I pushed him too far, a Gryphonic general has just died—as a prisoner in my care. I imagine my officers won't be too pleased to hear that I've just signed their death warrants if they get captured. Well. They'll just have to not get captured, then.
She pulled her map a bit closer to her. She measured again. 484 miles north by northeast. 484 miles and this war is over. 484 miles and the Gryphon King's head is on a stake. 484 miles and Gryphonia is gone forever. 484 miles and we're safe forever. 484 miles.
Suddenly, a magenta pegasus stumbled through the tent flap, wings twitching with exhaustion. She stopped, saluted, and fell to her knees. Only with great effort did she return to her feet. “Urgent Message from Field Marshal Sparkle,” she announced, then collapsed again.
---
Appleoosa, Equestria
Celestia stood in the shadows cast by buildings along the narrow main street, and watched the dust swirl in perfectly circular loops as the evening winds blew. She liked frontier towns: nature seemed to work on its own, but it was clear ponies were in charge. She kicked up a little cloud of dust with her gold-and-white hoof, and watched it scatter away.
She looked up, squinted, and saw the purple pony coming closer. Good. Very good. She had been waiting for days. She was running low. She wouldn't need much more.
Another five minutes passed. Ten. And then the pony walked past the little town well. And past the first homes. And past the general store. And right up to Celestia.
“Hello, Topsy,” she said.
“Hello,” Screwball said, pawing at the ground. “I'm real tired. Do you know where I can find Celestia?”
“Of course,” the Princess said.
Screwball looked up—and then her eyes went wide in recognition.
Oh no...
I think now we're going to see were Screwball came from, other than Discord made her.
So Celestia ran off to the border without Luna to keep from risking anyone else?
Oh, crap......Bright Eyes has no idea why the war started and it's going to cost her. Damn, you're good!!!
0_0 she dead
Her options are limited.
Teleport out: Impossible
Talk her down: Possible but unlikely.
Fight her: Not unless she wants to end up as four smoking hooves on the ground.
Do I think she'll get out alive? Yeah, stories not over yet.
...I hope.
O_O...
Please no.
"You're the sun, right? So the sun is small and round, and on fire..."
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Derpy SOOOOOOO has it coming. She will fail, based entirely on her misconception of Broadwings' story. And Celestia... Well, she will propably not be able to smooth-talk her way out of this one...
Oh God. An eon old Alicorn of order talking to Screwball, a pony basically "spawned" from pure chaos?
Can't wait for that conversation
Wow...I see what Broadwing's story was meant to be as a part of cause and effect.
Cant wait for next chapter.
Kick her ass Celestia
Really, really good chapter.
Brilliant character development, nice flow, interesting plot development.
And that cliffhanger...
Your best so far, gosh I love this story.
138020
Damned right....it'll probably cost her everything she has....her daughter, her soul, her life....all because she can't or won't believe in something that makes sense in their world. It's as if she were to pooh-pooh the existence of gravity or magnetism.
i.chzbgr.com/completestore/2012/1/17/bed8c4d5-c8ed-4099-a387-0185c143b8e6.jpg
Every male gryphon is named either Perry or Harold.
This is now canon.
138003
Interesting bit of back story, and WATCH as the AMAZING Braeburn comes and saves Celestia with his group of Buffalo warriors! Or at least provides enough of a distraction to let Celestia get the upper hand. That would be epic.
This won't turn out well...
I am very happy on your skills as a writer, please keep entertaining me.
sooooo epic
wow... Gryphonia is going to get fucked up...
I wonder if it will be Derpy's fault?
So now we know why the war started, maybe Screwball intentionally wove those lies to convince the Griffon King to murder Celestia. Anyways, another great chapter and I like how you handle tense confrontations between two characters, although I was hoping that Broadwings wouldn't kill himself.
13941
Pretty much. See:
138642
We know Derpy will get to Gryphonia sometime, and I am VERY certain that this will be a very angry, very sad, and very, VERY broken Derpy. If she fails to save the princess because she did not listen to Broadwings' story, she will NEVER forgive herself. With Celestia, the biggest part of the Equestrian morale would vanish. And Derpy would only be out for revenge. Right now, she seeks to stop the war, make her daughter save, and prevent future conflicts. If this shit goes down, she will go John McClane on their asses and light all of Gryphonia on fire in pursuit of the griffon responsible.
140492
In short, she'd be the punchline to the song "Don't get fooled again": Meet the new boss, same as the old boss........
Derpy is good pony!!!! She is great leader!!! She IS honorable!!! A decent pony in indecent times. (thank you dark knight)
Why can't you just leave her alone!
So long to one more useless sack of feathers I say. Long Live the Grey Mare!! To victory or to the gallows, I will follow you proud General!
140492
And should Bright Eyes receive news that her daughter is dead, killed in great preening? I think at that point all that would remain would be the Grey Mare.
I don't think the death of Princess Celestia would stop the ponies now. Princess Celestia has not been commanding the army much lately thus in turn of leadership her role is minimal. She is a figurehead, a symbol and from history a symbol need not be alive to be useful. A speaker like the Grey Mare would use Celestia's death to rally the ponies for a total war campaign on the griffons.
Given that we have heard of atrocities like Preening happening in the background, it is likely any pony soldier caught would be executed regardless. Thus the murder of a griffin general would not really change a pony officer's fate.
139719
Ah but that is the beauty of being able to see all possible futures. Screw ball is telling the Griffon king exactly what he needs to hear to cause the down fall of the Griffon kingdom.
To prevent the Griffon kingdom from being invaded by Equestria, he starts a war with Equestria. And by doing so he created the Grey Mare, the greatest pony general in her generation. Grey Mare will probably see the only way to stop the Griffon king is to invade the Griffon Kingdom because he will continue attacking Equestria until it is destroyed. Thus The Grey Mare invades the Griffon Kingdom completing a self full filled prophesy.
140818
okay, ouch
Whatever happened to love and tolerate?
142184
First victim of the war...
141874
Ah, the age-old adage of the self-fulfilling prophecy used to manipulate entire nations. I get the feeling our beloved author here is not only a great student of the ancient art of war, but of history and politics alike. Never let this man rule a country.
Please.
141838
The loss of her daughter is, to me, the one looming danger that may kill all that is good inside her. The fact that we hardly directly hear about her only serves to make me more worried...
142184
Are you telling me you feel sorry for the griffons? TRAITOR!! Long Live Equestria! All Hail the Grey Mare!!
141874
Which leads us to a scenario far more horrifying than what emkajii actually wrote: Derpy believing every word Broadwings said and going full-bore Paul Atreides on us. You think her disbelief is bad? Consider her deciding "Well, since we're simply a backdrop to a war of Gods, we're powerless to do anything to prevent what Screwball saw from happening. If Celestia lives, nothing can destroy her; should she die, she'll lead us in spirit. Either way, the momentum that drives us to Gryphonia and me to kill the Gryphon King cannot be stayed no matter how much I hate the idea."
143132
In a word, yes.
Despite everything, including the preening, I cannot help but feel sorry for those soldriers who were executed or crippled by the Grey Mare simply because she cant be fucked to make a POW camp. I mean, just trimming claws and flight feathers would have rendered them militarilly useless for a month or two.
Plus the whole I have a Griffon OC thing I guess
14490
Ok, in all seriousness, how can you feel sorry for them and insult Derpy for injuring them? They are soldiers. If they didn't enter this conflict with the realization they could be killed or maimed then they are stupid. Plus to put it bluntly they started the conflict. Don't start nothin' won't be nothin', I say. The griffons KILL women, children and unborn babies, and you feel sorry for them? I seriously don't understand you.
I've stated before, giving your life to destroy a military target IS honorable. Doing what you have to do to ensure a enemy soldier can't be put back into rotation and potentially kill the very lives you are seeking to protect, is a tough decision but one that must be made for the greater good. Destroying innocent life intentionality is the act of a coward and terrorist, and they deserve to die as such.
soniamdisappoint.jpeg
And just when I thought this story couldn't get any better, gain any more tension....
You end the chapter.
You've earned yourself a fan.
145814
Well, I think the point of the story is that war is fucked up. In this war, both sides commit atrocities. For most of the war, Equestria has been hanging by a thread. Derpy doesn't have the luxury of following the rules. PoW camps would take time and resources, two things she can not waste. She explloits evey advantage she can in order to survive. She used pony suicide bombers in order to survive.
Now, let's look at it from the point of view of a gryphon soldier. They were told that Equestria was slowly taking over their land. They were told that they will help liberateEquestria. Then, there's this one enemy general that kills enemy combatants after the surrendered.
Of course, this doesn't change the fact that the gryphons killed numerous civillians. However, their king was manipulated into starting a war, thinking that he was saving his people from slavery.
145814
You imply that they did so of their own free will. Maybe in a similar manner to Nazi soldriers executing POW's or complying with orders that resulted in the Holocaust. The Milgram Experiment (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milgram_experiment) proves that even if commands from an authority figure run counter to the persons moral beleifs, they will follow them and mentally defer responsibility to the authority figure. This person then defers responsibility to their commander and so on. Therefore, I think it is highly likely that most of the Gryphonic army, or Derpy's army for that matter, wanted to fulfil their orders, but did so due to the natrual mental reaction to an unassailable figure of authority.
Because of that, I feel justified in feeling sorry for the Griffons, alongside everyopne else caught up in this conflict.
Tl;Dr
This war is a shitstorm that makes me feel sorry for both sides, and I really hope Celestia doesn't die.
I feel sorry for both, the Gryphons because they were lead into this war under the false belief that they were the liberating heroes, and then having to go up against 2 demi-goddesses, 6 super weapon-esque ponies, and The Grey Mare. And to a certain extent pretty much all of ponydom now that they're all rising up against them. All in all, the war isn't going their way anymore.
And the ponies because, as Gilda so eloquently put it waaaaay back, ponies are nothing more then 'quivering balls of friendship.' So when a society built on the principles of love and tolerance is forced into a war they never saw coming, where pretty much everyone is going to end up a casualty, be it from disease, mental problems, war wounds or the unfortunate civilians caught in "The Great Preening" things are ever going to be the same for anyone ever again.
Derpy/Ditzy/Grey Mare/Bright Eyes is a prime example. Shes a physical and mental casualty of the war. Physical because of all the stresses and injuries that go hand in hand in a warzone, from malnourishment during the winters to losing her eye in an explosion. Mental because...well...she's already explained as much herself.
If Celestia does die, I believe its going to cause one hell of a political and social backlash. As far as the ponies know the princesses really are immortal, and they really are goddesses. So if they were to die the country and its army would be sapped of its driving force.
141838 said that Celestia is more of a figurehead or a symbol at this point, not really commanding the army anymore. While true, a symbol can be a powerful force for the civilians to rally behind. And what is an army if not for the civilians who supply the soldiers and materiel? I agree that if she were to die it wouldn't stop the ponies, at least in the long run. I think that if she were to die the pony counter offensive would peter out for a bit while the ponies mourn their lost leader, but then kick right back into gear come the next campaign season.
However once the war is over, the political problem sets in. Without the princesses and their centuries or millenia of experience driving the government, they are going to have to find replacement authorities. Be they the Mane 6 or an elected member of the aristocracy? Will the nation remain a monarchy or become a republic? This can cause all kinds of political issues, and may even result in civil war.
Wow, hehe I don't think I've ever written so much stuff as a review let alone on 6 threads of the same topic. I hope I got my thoughts across clearly, I am not a writer, unlike the author of this story. Amazing story by the way! <Felt I had to throw at least one thing related to the story itself in there instead of speculation.> Probably going to end up editing this later now that the option is there (yay) so, yeah...shutting up now.
146539
yeah, "I was just following orders" didn't work in Nuremburg and it doesn't work with me either.
It is better to be branded a traitor and executed by your own people, knowing that you held to your beliefs, then it is to have a chest full of metals you're ashamed of.
AND.....
YAY!! New Chapter!!
You murder and defend it, and you murder and defend it, and yet here I am, trusting a gryphon who ordered foals to be cut out of mares' bellies.
I guess that's a mistake. Just reported to help
“So this is it. You are the last gryphon I will talk to before I make my decision. You are the only gryphon I will talk to before I make my decision.
I found another.
169778
169868
Both are completely intentional. The first is repetition of the accusation to imply repetition of the act, akin to saying "You take and you take, and you never give." The second is a narrowing; first she tells him he is the last gryphon whose words she will consider, then she tells him that he is in fact the only gryphon whose words she will consider.
freakin awsome chapter, respect to the gryphon
Ha! When Derpy ( whatever works is fine ith me ) rounded on that gaurd and defended Broadwings, the first thing that came to mind was "Rommel you magnificent bastard, I read yor book!".
Deep stuff here, and a moral argument to boot!
Silver out!
never thought id see the day that'd id envy derpy whooves' intelligence