Chapter 2: Gust
Out of the dust of the Earth, two races rose above the rest
Griffon and Pegasi, both destined for greatness.
But greatness for one came as weakness for another
And the toils of war soon ravaged the land.
Until one day, the great Roamulus was born
Wielding Cirra’s wrath, he shattered his foes
And solidified for eternity the Emperor’s throne.
--- Excerpt from The Emperor’s Creed
Chapter 2: Gust
“Hurricane, check it out.” Silver Sword’s voice drifted back to Hurricane on the winds as they soared high above the earth. Hurricane shook his head and restarted his brain at Silver’s command. The flight to Stratopolis was a long one, and Hurricane had spent the last hour gliding in his friend’s wake, lost in thought.
Straining his eyes before him, Hurricane peered out into the dim light filtering through the high clouds. At first he saw nothing, just a mass of unremarkable gray cloud. He was wondering if Silver was suggesting that they fly around it, but then he noticed the regularities within the cloud. It was no ordinary thunderhead.
As they parted through more and more of the outer shell of cloud, a magnificent airborne city began to take shape before them. The foundation of the city was a large blanket of stratus and cumulus clouds, stretching out for miles in any direction. At the lowest level of cloud stood hundreds of modest residential homes, mostly one story high, but several with more than one. Set a few blocks in from the edge of the city soared a towering wall made of solid cloudstone, the refined cumulus mortar that pegasi were so adept at working with. The walls themselves rose nearly a hundred feet into the air before ending with weathered watchtowers placed at regular intervals around the city.
Within the walls, two and three story structures arose with the white streets, each more splendid than the last. Pegasi flitted about their daily business in the streets and on the rooftops of these structures, hanging laundry across the streets to dry or perhaps polishing the solid white walls of their homes. The main street that led away from the gate extended for several hundred yards before abruptly opening into a large forum. Hurricane could see hundreds of stalls arranged in a series of concentric semicircles around a fountain in the center of the plaza. The merchants advertised their wares to anypony within earshot, hoping to add a few more bits to the day’s profits. The scale of the whole thing was impressive; Hurricane figured he could nearly fit Zephyrus in its entirety within the single plaza.
Shooting off from the Plaza of the Emperor, as it was called, were a dozen streets angled in nearly any direction. Every other street in the city was connected to one of these twelve roads, stretching out towards the horizon. However, it was the road that led due north and upwards that caught Hurricane’s attention.
To the north of the plaza, the tallest district of the city hovered above the clouds spread below it. Impressive buildings of marble adorned the cloud that comprised this section of the city. The fact that actual marble was utilized in the construction of these buildings as opposed to cloudstone lent weight to the observation that it was by far the most important quarter of the city.
Amongst the grand buildings of marble there stood one enormous construction, larger than any other building in the city. The emperor’s palace crested the top of the city like a plume on a soldier’s helmet. The magnificent construction sprawled across several acres of cloud, rivers of water and rainbow slicing their way down the white material in canals. These canals reached the lower levels of the city before finally pouring their contents through drains, where they plummeted several hundred feet and splashed into a wide lake below.
Hurricane and Silver Sword hovered idly about five hundred yards from the gate as they took in the sights. Since Zephyrus was all they had known their whole lives, they had figured it was the average size of a settlement. The mighty peaks and spires of Stratopolis dwarfed their hometown into a nearly infinitesimally small speck of the Cirran Empire. The seat of Cirran government was a mighty testimony to the Empire’s strength.
After the two pegasi had gawked at the impressive capital for what seemed like hours they finally began to move towards the main gate, wingtips quivering in excitement. There in front of the gate were thousands of ponies trying to cram their way into the city through the south entrance. Hurricane thought it odd that they couldn’t just fly over the walls and into the city, but a glance to the top walls revealed hundreds of legionaries manning the perimeter, turning away pegasi who tried to avoid the crowd. Security sure was high for the centennial year.
Silver Sword dipped several feet in flight as he groaned aloud. “We have to get through all that?! By the time we get in the parade’ll be over!”
Hurricane looked through his saddlebags and pulled out the tag his father had given him. He put the neckband on and held the medal out to his friend. “No worries, Dad gave me his service medallion. We’ll be through in no time.”
Silver Sword flew up next to the dark stallion and stuck his wing out. “Nice! I knew bringing you along would pay off big time.” The two pegasi clapped wings in midair, then turned towards a small knot of legionaries by the wall, Hurricane leading with the medal proudly displayed on his chest.
The lead pony of the cluster of legionaries didn’t notice them until they were a dozen yards away, but flew forward to intercept them before they got closer. His iron armor glared in Hurricane’s face as he raised a hoof to stop them.
“All access to the city is restricted to one of the four cardinal gates, traveler. Turn around and get in line like everypony else.” The guard’s gaze wandered as he lazily issued the command. It was obvious he’d had to deal with Cirrans trying to fly over the walls all day.
“I’ve got a pass,” said Hurricane as he pulled the medal off and flipped it towards the guard. The guard clumsily caught it, his ears perking up a little as he read the inscription. His eyes switched from the medal to Hurricane and back again, before he returned the tag and nodded stiffly.
“You’re Thunder Gale’s son, eh? I was just a recruit when he got hurt. Damn shame too, only heard good things about him. One of the best the Praetorian ever had, they say.” The legionary turned back to his companions and lazily waved a hoof at them. “You’re good to go. Enjoy yourselves down there. Wish I could get me some of that Pileus wine from the north while I’m on duty.”
The two young stallions flew towards the walls, where the knot of legionaries parted ways to let them pass. They soon set down on the white cloudstone streets of Stratopolis, their hooves making a satisfying clack. Hurricane thought it funny that material made of cloud could be so much like stone.
Silver Sword brushed wings with Hurricane as he walked up beside him. “Magnificent,” was all the gray stallion whispered. The true scale of the city reached them as they stood in Main Street, where the lofty palace seemed to stretch forth to caress the sun between its towers.
Hurricane and Silver Sword slowly began to meander their way towards central plaza, where the buzz of the marketplace quickly escalated into a dull roar as thousands of Cirrans weaved their way through the stalls, throwing a few bits down here and taking an item there. The two pegasi walked past most of the stalls until they found themselves in the center. They gazed upwards at the towering statue that housed the fountain.
The statue was made entirely of bronze, standing around forty feet tall. Two armor clad pegasi, wings flared and each holding a spear, hovered on either side of a central pony. The pony in the center bore elaborately decorated armor and its face gazed out over the plaza, stoic expression forever looking south. The pegasus’ forelegs were balanced on a bronze spear, the tip impaled in a griffon’s throat as it struggled with its dying breaths to break free. Hurricane remembered seeing a depiction of the statue in one of the few years of school he attended in his youth. It was a statue of Roamulus slaying the griffon warlord Haldber during the pegasus unification wars. Roamulus united the tribes under his rule and carved out land for them from Haldber’s own territories, thus leading to the creation of the Cirran Empire. It was hard for Hurricane to imagine that this happened four hundred years ago to the day.
After admiring the statue for a time, the pegasi turned north towards the emperor’s palace. The parade was due to begin in fifteen minutes, and the benches were rapidly filling up. Hurricane managed to find two open seats near the entrance to the palace estates, where the procession would leave from, heading through the plaza, down Main Street, and out the south gate of the city. Already the Legion was shooing away vendors and merchants from the plaza to clear the path for the parade.
“I can’t believe we’re actually here! This is going to be the best day ever!” Silver Sword’s forehooves left the ground as he fluttered his wings in excitement. Hurricane leaned away from his friend’s wings, lightly punching him behind the head when he settled down. Silver Sword hit Hurricane back, then nudged him more gently on the shoulder, pointing several rows down.
Hurricane craned his neck to see what the steel pegasus was pointing to, when he saw it – or rather, them. Three beautiful mares were trying to find a place to sit down, with the parade to begin any moment now. They weren’t all that much older than fillies, probably around his and Silver Sword’s age. The dark stallion’s heart did a backflip. They were much more beautiful than any mare back in Zephyrus. Their bodies were lithe and slender, and based on their complexion it was easy to tell they were from the higher clouds of the city. Two of the mares, a brown one and a light blue one, bore decorative anklets with the Cirran seal printed on them. Hurricane inferred they were probably the daughters of senators. The third pegasus, a manila colored mare, bore no such adornments, but her light-brown mane and tail were cut relatively short for a female. She also seemed to be the most athletic of the bunch. Hurricane decided the look suited her.
Silver Sword looked mischievously at Hurricane, then turned and whistled at the three mares. The ponies turned their heads towards Silver Sword, who was gesturing emphatically to a bank of open spaces in front of him. Hurricane nervously ducked his head a little as the mares looked his way. The manila mare caught his eye, and he sheepishly smiled at her. She smiled back, a bright and wonderful thing, then exchanged a few quick words with her companions and glided over. The senators’ daughters followed in her wake, leaving little doubt as to who was the leader of their trio.
The three mares sat down on the bench in front of the stallions, the manila one placing herself on Hurricane’s right side while her friends sat to her left, in front of Silver Sword and his companion. The pony next to Hurricane folded her flawless wings and leaned forward so she could see both Hurricane and Silver Sword.
“Thanks for saving us a seat, strangers! I was worried that we’d have to hover the whole parade.” She glanced at her friends, who were busy readjusting their anklets so the Cirran crest faced outwards. “Or at least I would’ve. I don’t think these two could stay aloft for that long.” Her voice was strong but young and lively, with a slight hint of warmth in it that made her seem likable and friendly.
Silver Sword straightened his back into his most gratifying posture as he basked in her praise. “Not a problem at all, miss. Happy to help.” He went to flare a wing and show off his feathers, but his shoulder popped loudly, causing him to yelp and tumble off the bench. The two mares closest to him giggled loudly as he clambered back into his seat, trying to hide his embarrassment. Hurricane chuckled quietly and looked back to the mare, who was smirking herself.
“Ladies, I present to you sir Silver Sword, Zephyrus’s own comedian in residence.” Hurricane ducked under a swipe from his buddy, rapping him across his ribs in return. Silver regained his composure before taking his own jab at Hurricane.
“Well at least a comedian’s better than a workaholic. Seriously ladies, Hurricane here’s no fun, all work all the time. He’d make as interesting a date as some of those clouds over there.” Silver Sword gestured gravely to the sky at a passing wisp of cirrus cloud, recoiling when Hurricane tried to clip him with his shadowy wings.
The manila mare smiled sincerely at Hurricane. “Where I’m from, nothing is more appreciated than a hard worker.” She held her hoof towards the stallion, and he shook it gently. “Name’s Swift Spear, though you can just call me Swift.” She angled her wing up a bit to reveal her cutie mark, an image of a curved spear with a ghostly crescent trailing the tip to simulate motion.
The image apparently caught Silver Sword’s attention, as he leaned forward towards her. “You train too? I didn’t think any mares would be interested in the Legion in today’s age.” Silver Sword showed his own image to Swift, to which she nodded approval for.
“Not many do, but when your father’s Commander Gold Feather, there are certain things expected of you.” Swift shrugged her shoulders. Hurricane and Silver Sword both nearly fell over.
“Your father’s… Commander Gold Feather? The Praetorian Imperator?” Hurricane was stunned. Praetorian Imperator was the highest-ranked military official short of the Emperor himself. The entirety of the Praetorian was at his command, and he was tasked with personally escorting the Emperor wherever he went. Hurricane's father would've been a prime candidate to become Imperator when Augustus Haysar ascended to the throne when the High Noon War ended, but the wound he'd sustained defending Nimbus put an end to that. Hurricane couldn’t believe that Swift didn’t seem to care that much about it. She seemed to pick up on his thoughts.
“What, you’re wondering why I’m not up in the palace or something? Frankly I don’t care for all the political bull the senators hurl my way.” She looked introspectively off into the distance for a few moments before continuing. “My father’s shadow has impressive weight to it. Sometimes I just want to get away from it all, so I spend time training or wandering about downtown.”
Silver Sword nudged Hurricane’s shoulder. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common then! Hurricane’s father was Commander Thunder Gale, the legendary tactician who led the defense of Nimbus. Well, before he got hurt that is.”
Hurricane glanced at his hooves uneasily. “I haven’t had to deal with the same attention out in Zephyrus. At least the ponies there treat us like any other farming family, even if father does lead the parade on armistice day every year. When he’s feeling well, that is.”
Swift’s face quickly transitioned into genuine concern. “He’s sick? Does his wound bother him?”
Hurricane shook his head. “No, the only thing his wound did was rob his ability to fly, or at least fly for more than a few hundred feet. He’s just getting old I guess, and his lungs are giving out on him. The doctor didn’t think he’d make it more than a year.”
Swift gazed sadly with Hurricane across the street, solemnly nodding her head. “I’m sorry. How long ago was this?”
Hurricane snorted. “About two years ago. My father's stubborn, I’ll give him that. Though he has been getting weaker.” He sighed. “Some things can’t be helped, and if there’s anything Dad hates more than griffons, it’s ponies lamenting for him.”
Hurricane looked away towards the other two mares, who were enthusiastically chatting with Silver Sword. They were talking about tales of ponies without wings or with horns instead of wings that lived far across the ocean. Hurricane thought the notion preposterous. If they didn’t have wings, how could they ever survive in such a harsh world? Cirra’s strength was its ability to manipulate weather and communicate across vast distances in a matter of days, as well as building cities and fortifications high above the lumbering predators that walked the land. The griffons hadn’t mastered those concepts, not yet at least, and that was why Cirra had been so successful against their barbaric society for four centuries. Plus, he didn’t see what good a horn would be in a fight. They had swords for that, right?
His thoughts were interrupted as the fanfare of trumpets silenced the crowd. By now tens of thousands of ponies jammed the stands alongside the streets. Still more hovered in midair, kept back at a safe distance by legionaries on clouds floating just around the edges of the road. A platoon of archers watched over the surrounding area.
Every pegasus suddenly rose to their hooves as the Cirran standard emerged from the gates, shouldered by a young militeand followed by twenty additional legionaries. A Cirran commander in onyx armor with a golden trim led the standard down the streets, head raised high.
The cheering that poured down from the stands was deafening. Hurricane pressed his ears flat against his head as the noise threatened to shatter his skull from within. He had thought the thunderstorms in Zephyrus were loud, but the voices of thousands of enthusiastic Cirrans were much worse. This day was teaching Hurricane just how small his world was.
Following the standard bearer were another four thousand legionaries marching in full armor. Their crest identified them as the 1st Legion, and they marched with heavy armor. One large sword adorned each flank, complemented by a large, rectangular shield mounted on their backs.
“Heavy infantry. Father enlisted with them.” Hurricane turned to Swift Spear, who was watching the parade nonchalantly. Although her perked ears belied her interest in the parade, her dull tone revealed that she was all too familiar with the structure of the Legion.
“How can you tell?” Hurricane was rather embarrassed that he didn’t know more about the Legion, especially considering the prominence his own father once had. But then again, he never planned on joining the Legion himself.
Swift pointed towards the shields on their backs. “It’d be pretty hard to fly with that over your wings, don’t you think? The heavy infantry is tasked with doing the dirty work on the ground. Griffon settlements aren’t built in the sky like ours, after all. And as long as other elements of the Legion provide the air support for you, you can whittle away at earthbound targets. Still,” she added, shrugging, "they aren't used all that much anymore. The Legion standard emphasizes mobility over protection, to a certain degree."
Hurricane nodded as the next regiment came out. These ponies were much more lightly armored, the iron only covering their backs and chests. Their helmets were made of a sleeker material and construction, and the edges of their wings were adorned with scaly rows of iron plates, each one honed to a razor sharp edge. Hurricane could see the joints along the plates that allowed them to flex with the wing.
“I suppose they provide the air support?”
“Yeah, though they get less protection than the heavy infantry. It would seem a weakness, but it plays to our advantage. Pegasi aren’t strong fliers, at least not when compared to griffons. A griffon will outfight you in face-to-face combat any day of the week, but they’re slow and cumbersome, especially when clad in armor. We use our natural agility to our advantage in the sky. Also, the wingblades protect your wings from being broken and allow you to have a lethal weapon when fighting. After all, it is pretty hard to use a sword without solid hoofing.”
Several more cohorts of pegasi passed before them, some mixes of heavy and light infantry, others made entirely of archers. After the modern military regiments passed Hurricane and his friends, there was a pause before the next group reached them. These ponies numbered far fewer, only two or three hundred, and they were clad in old armor reminiscent of Cirra’s early days. Hurricane realized that they were the first of the procession that recounts the Empire’s history every year. Despite the militant nature of Cirran society, the organizers of the parade still knew how to put on a good show for the crowds.
Hurricane watched as Cirra’s timeline unraveled before him. In the beginning, the pegasus tribes were disparate groups, united only in a common squabble for land and resources. The neighboring griffon conglomerate was strong, and the tribes were hard pressed to defend themselves.
Then, the spark that would begin empire was born. Roamulus hailed from the tribe of Cirra, and with age he became a natural leader. After ascending to claim rule of his tribe, he slowly assimilated the neighboring groups into his empire, using diplomacy and force. Eventually the griffon warlord Haldber, feeling threatened by Cirra’s growing strength, moved to crush the fledgling nation before it could unite the rest of the pegasus tribes under its hold.
However, Haldber’s move backfired, and though his armies made swift progress in the first months of the war, the remaining pegasi joined Roamulus in his struggle and added their weight to the brawl. The scales slowly began to tip in Roamulus’ favor until the battle of Feathertop Mountain, where the pegasus surrounded Haldber’s forces and killed every last one, including Haldber himself. Cirra was now master of the western lands of the continent of Dioda, and Roamulus became the first emperor of the new Cirran Empire.
For the next three hundred years, Cirra slowly expanded their borders, fighting for and claiming more and more lands from their griffon neighbors. Cirran might remained unchallenged for the better part of four centuries, until the griffons savagely fought back twenty-five years ago in what became known as the High Noon War.
The griffons organized their collective city-states into one nation for their protection from continued Cirran hostility, creating the empire of Gryphus. Cirra struck fiercely at the nation in a sort of reversal of history from four centuries prior. The griffons were resilient however, and under the leadership of Emperor Bizmack they pushed their pegasus enemies back into Cirran lands. With the griffons now on the offensive, Cirra’s then-emperor Julius Haysar scrambled to find some way to turn the tides of war. After drafting nearly every stallion aged eighteen to twenty-five within the holds, the Emperor gave his commanders a simple two word order: Stop Bizmack. The commanders were then turned loose into the field with their troops, with Haysar trusting that they were competent enough to coordinate the counterattack while he personally organized the defense of Stratopolis.
After many months of fighting, Haysar’s trust in his commanders paid off at the battle for Nimbus. Thunder Gale, who was in charge of the defense of the city, withstood a six month siege by Bizmack’s forces until another Cirran army could break the siege. From then on the griffons were on the run as Cirran troops marauded through Gryphus, turning the earth into a scorched wasteland. Finally, nearly a year after the war began, Bizmack surrendered and stepped down from the throne. Cirra had been indecisive about how they wanted to punish Gryphus, ultimately settling upon breaking the nation down into small occupied zones and forcing them to pay tribute to Cirra on a yearly basis. Thus Cirra’s control of Dioda spread from the west to the east.
As the last of the cohorts representing the High Noon War passed by, there was a lull in the procession as the trumpets delivered a fresh burst of fanfare. Everypony leaned out to take a look down the gates, straining to see into the shadows beyond. Suddenly, a small procession emerged to much applause by the ponies lining the streets. The procession consisted of sixteen armor-clad pegasi that marched their way down the street, five in the front and back and two on either side. All of the ponies were clad in the black and gold armor of commanders, save the two pegasi in the middle of the procession.
The one on the left had jet-black armor with a white trim along the edges, and he swapped a few brief words with the pegasus next to him. His solid white coat, black mane and tail gave way to an impressive set of golden feathers on each wing. Swift Spear jumped to her hooves and saluted as her father walked past. Commander Gold Feather glanced quickly in her direction and raised a wing towards his daughter, holding it aloft a few seconds before returning it stiffly against his side. About a hundred star-struck fillies in the stand thought the gesture was for them, and Hurricane placed his hooves over his ears to try and block out the shrieking.
The other pony on Gold Feather’s right side hardly seemed to notice the crowds around him. His armor was a magnificent blend of iron and gold, with a red robe that draped over his left shoulder. His mane and tail were cut short, black tufts of hair against an olive drab coat. A laurel wreath of solid gold crafted in the likeness of pegasus feathers around his head gave away his status. Everywhere Emperor Augustus Haysar passed, hundreds of Cirrans bowed down in awe at their magnificent leader.
Silver Sword let out a shout of excitement as he rose from his bow. “Emperor Augustus! The Emperor Augustus! I never thought I’d see him in person!” Hurricane leaned forward to try and watch the emperor as he passed. There certainly wasn’t a single pony in the world who could command the respect of his citizens in such a manner.
Hurricane watched the emperor descend down the street when he heard whispers behind him. He turned to look when a cloaked figure roughly pushed past him, making its way towards the front of the stands. “Excuse you…” Hurricane muttered to himself, looking towards the ground. Then he saw the figure’s hooves.
Or rather, lack thereof.
In place of hooves, a set of scaly talons flicked out from under the lengthy cloak, disappearing just as quick. Hurricane gasped as the figure navigated its way closer to the front of the stands, closer to the emperor.
“Griffon! Guards! Guards!” Hurricane shouted out at the top of his lungs as the figure reached the edge of the stands. The alarm was soon picked up by several other pegasi in the crowd, and the legionaries above quickly swiveled their heads to locate the cause of the distress. A terrified shriek rang out as the griffon threw off his cloak and streaked towards the emperor as fast as he could, a jagged dagger clenched in his talons. The stands erupted with panic as the situation escalated. The Praetorian Guards accompanying the emperor quickly shifted to face the oncoming attacker. But suddenly, several other griffons burst out of the stands on either side and rushed the group, now trapped in the streets. Hundreds of terrified Cirrans shot out from the benches in all directions, hindering the legionaries’ ability to join the fight.
There was a flash of movement at Hurricane's side as Swift Spear jumped into the air. Her intentions were clear, and Hurricane nearly fell over as he stretched to bite onto Swift's tail before she could join the fight. The additional mass caused the mare to plummet back into the stands, where the two pegasi tangled with each other.
"Get off of me!" shouted Swift, thrashing beneath Hurricane's powerful grasp. "My father—"
"Will be fine," grunted Hurricane, clenching his teeth as the mare bucked him in the chest. "You don't have a weapon, they'll cut you apart!"
"I don't need a weapon! I can do some damage without one!" Swift gave another powerful surge of her hind legs, nearly taking Hurricane into the air with her before they collapsed again. Only as a result of years of heavy labor on the farm did Hurricane have the strength to keep her contained.
At this point the standoff between the griffons and pegasi ended abruptly. The first of the assassins let loose a terrible yell and collided with the nearest Praetorian, attacking with a deadly combination of beak, claws, and daggers. The Praetorian Guard, though caught off balance, quickly countered the flurry of blows, striking back with their own swords whenever possible. In the confusion of battle the first griffon, the one that Hurricane identified, leapt up to the Emperor and struck at him.
Although at first it seemed like the blade was going to connect with the Emperor’s throat, the pegasus rolled to his side, striking a glancing blow off of the assassin’s shoulder. The griffon staggered but was quick to counter, scoring a hit across Haysar’s face with his unarmed hand. The blood from claw wounds dripped off of the Emperor’s cheek, but the drab coated pegasus snarled and lunged forward, tackling the griffon. The two figures tumbled several feet until the assassin was hurled through the air, striking his back against the ground before his open wings could right himself.
The assassin went to pick up his dagger from the ground, but an arrow glanced off of the cloudstone road mere inches from his outstretched hand. The griffon looked up and saw that the skies were relatively clear and the Legion was descending into the street. The main knot of fighting had broken down into a few scuffles as the last of the griffons tried to fight off the Praetorian. Several dead bodies, griffon and pegasus alike, littered the streets.
The griffon turned to fly off, but Haysar was faster. In an instant he had gripped the griffon’s dagger in his mouth and hurled it at the fleeing hybrid. The blade lodged itself deep in his right wing, and the griffon tumbled out of the sky, impacting the ground with a dull thud.
The would-be assassin tried to get up and flutter his wing, but the bone was locked in place by the dagger. Before he could move farther, the Emperor had his own sword to the griffon’s neck, a blood-soaked Gold Feather at his side. Other than the white stallion’s panting, he appeared unharmed.
In the stands, Swift Spear had broken loose from Hurricane's grasp with the aid of a well-placed buck towards his groin. She clambered down to the edge, ready to join the fight if necessary, but saw that it was already over. To her relief, Gold Feather was on his hooves, and nodded to his daughter that he was alright. The mare let out a tense breath and sat on the stands, watching. Hurricane stumbled over to her and sat down, gasping for air with a hoof over the afflicted area. Swift turned her gaze away from him pointedly.
Haysar had taken his sword away from the griffon's neck and jammed it sharply into the griffon’s shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. When he spoke, his voice was like a smoldering fire, monotonous but charged with hidden energy and malignity.
“What did you hope to achieve by coming here, crossbreed? To kill me? You should have known that here only death awaits your kind.” Hurricane’s blood turned to ice as he heard the Emperor’s chilling tone. Before the fight, the Emperor passed by a good forty feet in front of him. Now that the fighting was over, he found himself within spitting distance of the powerful figure.
The griffon merely chortled with a laugh that seemed borderline insane as he spoke with his thick Gryphon accent. “You are smarter than they tells us you would be, yes. My only regret is that I could not have sunk Atreia into your neck.” The assassin looked almost lovingly at the weapon lodged in his wing, as if to forgive it for preventing his escape.
Haysar was unmoved. He pushed his blade further into the griffon’s shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry of pain as well as a twisted smile from the creature before him. “You will tell me who it is that sent you and your companions here,” Augustus flicked his tail disgustedly at the bodies of the other assassins behind him, “And only then, when I am satisfied with your answers, you have my permission to die.”
The griffon spit into Haysar’s face. “Foolish pony. I welcome pain! Magnus has already taught me its true meaning!”
The Emperor pushed the blade even farther into his defeated opponent’s shoulder. The scraping of steel against cloudstone could be heard from under the griffon’s body. “Then we will redefine it for you.” Haysar released the blade and turned towards Gold Feather. “I want this griffon bled dry of any information he carries. Find out his name, residence, motives, anything that we can make sense of.” Haysar began walking towards his palace, wiping the blood off of his face with a hoof. He turned back to Gold Feather one last time, his wounds still dripping. “And find out who this Magnus is.” Then he turned and disappeared into his estates.
Gold Feather rubbed a hoof over a wound on his foreleg before barking an order to two of the Praetorians still standing. The soldiers saluted and grabbed the babbling assassin, dragging him down to where Stratopolis' dungeon lay. After one last glance at his daughter, the Praetorian Imperator paced away after the Emperor.
"I could've taken them," muttered Swift Spear angrily to the sweating Hurricane beside her. "Just because I have a mark for the spear doesn't mean I need one to kill a few of the bastards."
Hurricane sat up, having managed to suppress the pain he felt. "If your father's the Imperator, I don't think he needs assistance." He took a deep breath, glad that the dizziness was starting to leave him. "If anything, your presence might have distracted him from the battle. He could've gotten hurt much worse than he was."
Swift stood up and fixed a piercing glare on the black stallion. "I know much more about combat than you, Hurricane, so don't try to lecture me." She turned away, light wings spread under the sun. "It was a pleasure meeting you," she remarked sardonically before flying away.
Hurricane watched her figure disappear towards the palace, becoming a thin form against the bright sky. There was a flutter of wings at his side, and Silver Sword landed next to him, panting.
"There you are! I thought I lost you in the panic after the griffons showed up. Were you here the whole time?" Hurricane nodded his head slowly in response. Silver's expression turned serious. "I saw the Emperor walking back to the palace on my way back here. Anything important happen? Other than, you know, the failed assassination attempt."
Hurricane shook his head and mumbled "nothing" before turning back to look towards the high cloud again. He couldn't help but feel like something important to him flew off in that direction not too long ago. But then again, he'd never had that feeling before, so he wasn't sure.
With one last solemn glance, Hurricane took to the air and began to fly out of the city, Silver Sword not far behind. It had certainly been a day to remember, but not in the way anypony could possibly have imagined.
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That chapter won my favorite. Seriously, how is this story not a hit already? I love it
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Gah, It's so unfortunate there are so few stories based in this sort of time (pre-Hearth's Warming Eve), and I really do love stories of this period.
So far so good. Continue reading.
Could it be? The first mini-quest?
Alright, you have me hooked. This is excellent so far.
Also, Magnus? As a preexisting reader of the Price of Loyalty universe, the pegasi are in for a world of hurt if that's who their enemy is.
*sigh*
the stupidity of war...
I absolutely love how you introduced their history and fighting methods through the parade and minor character dialogue. Not only did it hold my full attention, but it was cool and flowed very nicely. So far, everything about this is turning out great.
I'm guessing, more or less, that this assassination attempt is the begging of the start of the war.
I am deeply entertained, enthralled, and impressed.
Loved the parade scene, very well done and may I say the way you presented the history and their military structure was perfect! The story caught my attention, and kept me there throughout the story. Oh and this should be recommended or on the hot list!
2057138
Oh cool, I'm not the only one who thought that!
I loved the history lesson I got here. Real good character building in such a short amount of time. Also, gotta say I love the bromance between Hurricane and Silver.
I'm glad I'm reading this. It's filling in some questions I've had from Wind and Stone. Well, I've got a feeling of who this story's' Dawn' is gonna be. Swift is going to be a fun character to get to know, because I know we haven't seen the last of her.
~SolidFire
Throne, that was too close! Many a history book has been changed because of an assassination...
. . . I ship it.
The hotheaded young warrior-mare and the level-headed, practical, farmer?
I SHIP IT ALREADY
The emperor is a badass and I like the romance vibe.
He'd be a lot warmer and a lot happier with a bellyful of wine.