Before the Storm: The Rise of Firefly

by Firesight


Interlude #4: The Flight of Plexippa

Greetings, one and all. After discussion with our publisher and some worry over this tale’s increasing length, ’tis been decided that instead of writing one large book, the story of myself and the Bolt Knights—indeed, the story of the Great War itself—will be broken up into a trilogy, of which the first book will end with the outbreak of said war. Accordingly, the final chapters of this book will be devoted to two interlude stories in particular: One is the tale of my mentor, Sergeant Major Windshear, as ’tis necessary to tell his story before proceeding further. Until the war began, he was the only pony to be awarded the Defender of Harmony medal in decades, and once it did…

Well. That is a story for my sister to tell. But there is another tale to be told at the moment, a tale of an unlikely hero that is well-deserved… and now very personally requested. I’m unsure how it happened, but word has leaked out of the collaborative writing effort on this tome, and a letter arrived for me just this morning. Its contents are somewhat unnerving, to be sure, but at its author’s request, I will include it here.


Greetings, Captain Firefly.

I am Queen Lepidoptes, mother of Plexippa, and I hope this letter finds you and your herd in good health. Before you ask; yes, my hive has been watching over you and your herdmates all this time, but I assure you ’tis only in the interest of protecting you from those who may wish you ill. Yes, we are fully aware that veteran warriors like you and your herdmates can take care of yourselves quite readily even as you raise your foals, but consider it a compliment and courtesy from those such as myself who wish to repay old debts but have few other means of doing so.

If it helps, ’tis certain you are not the only one who my subjects have taken an interest in protecting from afar. Aside from you and Princess Celestia herself, I shan’t mention any others who we are watching over; I hope you can understand that my children must remain in the shadows to survive. Just know that, as my beloved Plexippa stated before she left this world, we will be there to help, even when it seems all is lost.

If you wouldst please indulge me, I would like our role in the war known and would greatly appreciate it if you include the contents of this letter in the book that you are writing. Our part may have been small in the overall conflict between Equestria and the now-former Gryphon Empire, but methinks ’tis worth mentioning all the same. In many ways, the conflict between your two respective nations affected far more than just ponies and gryphons in the end. Indeed, methinks there were none in this world who were ultimately untouched.

’Tis selfish of me, perchance, but I would not ask this for myself. I would ask on behalf of my beloved daughter, who I wish to be remembered. But regardless of whether or not you decide to indulge my request, I want to at least say this:

Thank you.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Because of you, we not only survive, we thrive. Because of you, my beloved Plexippa was able to pass on in peace and relative comfort, knowing she had completed her mission and delivered our warning in time. ’Tis far more than any changeling scout could hope for when their time comes. And I thank you for taking our warning seriously; I only wish we had been able to give it to you sooner. But the distance between Mosclaw and Equestria is vast, and we had to make completely certain of our information before we acted. It took time, as we did not want to jump to any conclusions and risk sparking a conflict that would not otherwise happen.

’Tis certain your friends in the EIS would agree that accurate intelligence is invaluable in times of strife. But for us, ’tis oft a matter of life and death.

Speaking of whom, ’twould be appreciated if your princess could ask for your friends in the EIS to perchance not fret so much about us and to stop sending out probes in hopes of finding our hives and havens. We’re aware that they have been trying to determine our whereabouts for the past few years, and whilst we’ve avoided being located so far, ’tis getting rather tiresome to plant false leads among their ranks. I can assure you we’re not going to try and usurp the throne or kidnap any ponies. I cannot speak for all of the other hives, but know that the Lepidoptes Hive and its Queen prefers peace with Equestria.

Regarding Plexippa, ’tis certain she was always a bit of a maverick among her peers. Despite her royal blood, despite her status and social standing among my hive—which I’m sure you found out about at some point, judging by what she had written in her journal—she never sought a career in politics or ruling. She wished to serve her subjects in a more direct way, so she joined the soldiers of our hive. ’Tis certain I had been hesitant to allow it at first, and a part of me still wishes I had denied her request to serve as a Scout. In the end, though, just like your own son or sister, I knew ’twould be unfair to deny her the right to offer up her life for her hive—her family—should she so choose. Despite the wrenching cost to my heart, she fulfilled her duty against all odds and brought both sorrow and pride to her queen and her kindred. Her sacrifice served as a model for all of us during those dark times of conflict…

I only wish she could see how much we all admired her for what she had done, and what her sacrifice ultimately won for both Equestria and her hive.

I also noticed that Plexippa mentioned that I myself seem to admire Celestia. Whilst ’tis a touch embarrassing, ’tis true. Ever since the day my mother decided I would inherit the throne, I looked to your alicorn princess in a manner that perchance borders on hero-worship. Again, ’tis rather embarrassing to admit, but methinks ’tis pointless to lie. I believe if I had been in your princess’ horseshoes, I might have been far less trusting or merciful to the gryphons. Though, that’s why I admire her; she’s always striving to find a solution with the least bloodshed, no matter how taxing it might be on one’s patience and faith in the other involved parties. I saw how she fought a brave and brilliant battle to save her capital and later brought the war to an honorable close for both sides. Please let Princess Celestia know that so long as she stays on this course, she will always have a quiet ally to watch over her from the shadows.

I believe this is where I shall finish my letter. If I write any more, I might risk slipping in some information that could give us away. I’ve ruled for a long time, but even a doddering old Queen like myself is prone to talking too long if you give her the chance. So, thank you, once again. For fighting the good fight, for protecting those who needed it, for saving Equestria and us as well, and above all else, for giving my daughter, Princess Plexippa Lepidoptes, friendship and the peace of mind she deserved during her final moments.

I may yet try to meet with you some day, Captain Firefly. Should that day come, I will wear no disguise. Plexippa put her faith in the ponies and chose not to wear a cover in her final days, so I feel ’twould only be right to honor her faith and actions by doing the same.

Farewell for now, Captain. May the Hive Mother guide and protect you, even if you pray not for her guidance.

Sincerely,

Queen Scylla Lepidoptes IV,
Sovereign of the Lepidoptes Hive


I must say, this was quite unexpected. To know that there are beings who watch me from the shadows I had not sensed despite all my well-honed instincts is… disquieting, to say the least!

Yet this hive of changelings has proven nothing if not friendly to Equestria. Given their actions both during and after the war, I feel comfortable in saying this: you have my thanks, Queen Scylla Lepidoptes. Your daughter’s bravery and timely warning prevented a full rout of Equestria’s armed forces and very likely the loss of our entire nation. Yes, ’twas still a close-fought affair as the next book will show, and we still nearly lost on multiple occasions, but Princess Plexippa’s actions gave Equestria a fighting chance.

I will respect your request, and indeed I had already planned to relate Plexippa’s tale to all my readers. ’Tis a tale of deprivation and desperation that deserves to be told, to say the least. As her sacrifice means she is no longer among the living, we must use an alternative means of narration, much like we did with Thunderbolt’s interlude. Thankfully, her journal survived the war in one piece; ’twas one of the few things I could take with me upon our escape from Epsilon. The journal was given to the EIS shortly thereafter, and Daggermind took the liberty of writing some annotations in areas that had been rendered illegible for one reason or another. A translation of the journal has been made, with Daggermind’s notes included. As to why we feel it necessary to include this?

As I have said before, my story is not complete without the perspective of others. And Plexippa’s perspective of the events leading to war are interesting indeed; a perspective into a culture both alien and honorable, struggling to survive from the shadows but electing to expose themselves for the sake of both their world and ours. ’Tis no exaggeration to say that Equestria owes its existence to this brave and noble Changeling, and I would urge all who read now to reflect well on her sacrifice and how much her hive risked to help us.


Discovery and Preparation

Day 105

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
21:30, Mosclaw, Gryphon Empire

Our worst fears have been realized. Our intelligence has been confirmed.

The Gryphons truly intend to go to war with Equestria, and if what Spiracle has overheard being talked about amongst the officers is true regarding the plans they have made and the terrifying new allies they have gained, it could lead to a devastating end for the ponies… and for us.

I have already spoken briefly with Spiracle and Chilopa, and corresponded with mother as well. ’Tis agreed we have no choice—for the sake of our cluster, our hive, and all Changelings everywhere, the ponies must be warned. We have agreed that I must leave and initiate my part of Operation Silverfish. If all goes well, I shall be outside the walls of Mosclaw by tomorrow night, and outside of the borders of the Empire within a week’s time if I am careful.

I have taken the guise of a young Auxiliary Guard soldier within the Empress’ castle. They call it The Citadel, and ’tis a good name as ’tis both massive and menacing. My cover is monotonous on the best of days and mental torture on the worst. Standing guard at some designated post or patrolling the same halls for the past three months is not what I pictured my first true external job as a Scout to be. Were it not for this journal that I’ve been keeping, then I most certainly would have gone stir crazy by now. ’Tis a security risk, true, but I have kept it well hidden in my barracks beneath a floorboard, and it has yet to be discovered.

Then again, I am thankful to not be spending my time in Spiracle’s hooves: she has been living the stress-filled life of a high ranking gryphon officer. Most days she is sitting within only a few forelegs length from such individuals such as Prelate Salvio Gaius, members of the Praetorian Guard, and even the Empress herself on occasion. There have been many a night when the three of us would meet that she would be trembling, shooting nervous glances over her shoulder, and praying to whatever gods would listen that this mission would just end. Even so, you wouldst not believe her to be anything but some stuffy military bureaucrat with a penchant for invading Equestria if you were to see her playing the role of “Centurion Gianna Marius”. She wears her feathers well, hence why she was charged with leading this operation.

I cannot fault her for such thoughts. Gryphons are far from the most friendly or trusting of species we have lived amongst, and ’tis often hard to extract love from them, requiring us to risk injury and exposure in a mating ‘round’ to do so. If word about the Owls is believed to be true, then gryphons aren’t above doing heinous acts in order to gain an upper claw with their enemies, either.

Chilopa, on the other hoof, has taken on a more interesting role. He is currently a young gryphon tiercel working as a drinkmaster at a local tavern just down the road from the mess halls. Given that he’s always had a talent in the culinary arts, spirits, and brew making, and is the most familiar with Aeric vernacular used by many of the enlisted soldiers, he fits in well with the local populace. It helps that he has the patience and understanding of a mother raising a brood of hatchlings, too, I suppose. He himself has said on more than one occasion that ’tis amazing what one can discover if they only pay attention to the inebriated venting of young Talons and Knights after a long day’s training and arguing with peers. Information meant only for military personnel will practically pour out of their beaks, if only you have some Aeric rum to grease the gears, so to speak.

Still, despite our success so far in remaining hidden in plain sight, ’tis the time for me to leave. The Empire’s war plans have been pieced together from maps and orders stolen right out of the war room, copied and then returned before their absence is noted. Though we try to be quick, sooner or later our luck will run out and we will be found out. We have not been able to obtain all the information we wished, but we believe we have enough for the Equestrians now. ’Tis best that we act now before, as I’m told they say in Equestria, the other horseshoe drops.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 107

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
03:50, Mosclaw, Gryphon Empire

Foolish! Completely foolish!

What an imbecile I was to think that I could make it out of Mosclaw so easily, even in the dead of night! Damn these gryphons and their keen vision!

I had been less than a dozen yards from the main gates leading out of the palace when three guards noticed me leaving. I must have looked rather suspicious, sneaking in the shadows whilst carrying a satchel bag and no armor. ’Tis my own fault for being so nervous!

My efforts to dissuade their suspicion were fruitless. It did not help that one of them was a mage, either. Whilst one of the guards headed off to ascertain that ‘Fionna Stratius’ was indeed allowed leave to visit her sickly aunt in the countryside north of Mosclaw, the mage and other guard kept a close watch of me. I had, of course, complied when the guard asked me to open my satchel. It contained nothing of great importance: some letters from my supposed aunt and uncle, a few strips of dried game meat, and a small amount of money that fit a soldier of my cover’s rank. I doubt any of them would have thought to look down my throat crop to locate this journal, so I should have been safe from suspicion.

’Twas easy to tell that I was not going to get out of the palace without trouble once I saw the guard who had left return with three more gryphons. Imagine my shock when I noticed their armor to be not that of the normal palace guard, but that of Paladins!

’Twas at that point that I knew I had to either act, or face what would likely be imprisonment. Or more than likely, death.

One of the Talons ordered the mage to cast a spell for detecting magical influence. Perchance they were hoping to find out if I was under some sort of mind control. That or perchance find out if I was a spy.

Whatever spell that had been cast by the mage, methinks ’twas too much. Weeks of living off only the barest scraps of love and enduring the tense atmosphere of Mosclaw as a gryphon soldier had been enough to break apart any resistance I put up. One moment I felt magic probing my mind, the next I felt my disguise melt away, revealing my jet black chitin to the shocked group of gryphon warriors.

What happened afterwards is hard to recall. I reacted on instinct at that point. I hissed at the gryphons, and spit a gob of mucus at one of the Talons’ faces, blinding him as it hardened almost instantly. After that, I remember fleeing out of the palace with five gryphons on my tail. The chase that gave way was both terrifying and brief. I know not how I managed to lose them, but I did in the darkness of the forest, a sudden rainstorm giving me additional cover, its noise and wetness covering my sounds and scent. Thank the Hive Mother for small miracles!

Currently, I am in hiding within the attic of Chilopa’s tavern. He knows of my plight, and has already sent a coded message to Spiracle informing her and mother of my situation. Both of them will leave within two days of each other. Spiracle will feign a very serious case of Aeric flu and fatigue, forcing her to take leave to her southern estate near the coast. Chilopa will claim that one of his young gryphon sister’s is to be wed next week and take leave from his job. In truth, both will return to the local cluster hidden beneath Mosclaw, and prepare our families and friends to evacuate whilst sending a message to our queen.
In the meantime, methinks I must wait out what is no doubt a citywide hunt for me. I do not recall if the gryphons know much about our kind. A best case scenario is that they believe me to be some odd creature that is wearing their skin to hide amongst them. The worst case—and with the Owls, the most likely case—is that they know what I am, and have already prepared spells to locate me.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 110

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
1:35, Mosclaw, Gryphon Empire

I have taken precautionary measures, and will now store my journal and charcoal pen within my throat crop at all times when not in use. The pen, as well as the journal pages that hold the maps and war plans of the Empire’s upcoming invasion of Equestria, are coated in a protective charm to keep them from being damaged by my vital fluids. The spell also has a magic trigger that will destroy the journal entirely if ’tis touched by anyone other than myself unless I remove said spell.

I think I’m beginning to understand why Mother always said ’twas important to keep my crop muscles in prime shape. Mayhaps ’tis not as vestigial of an organ as our scholars are lead to believe!

Chilopa is gone now; he left earlier yesterday after sharing what dregs of love he had to offer with me, claiming I would need it for the journey I was about to take. He also informed me of a rumor that one of the Consuls had been complaining of a mild fever, and that she would ‘likely have to leave for her southern estate for some fresh air and much needed rest’.

Spiracle could probably use some rest back in the cluster, and honestly, I can only wish her the best. She has been nothing but a supportive leader for Chilopa and I. When we next meet, I shall be sure to put in a good word for her with our Den Mother.

For now, I must wait until I feel ’tis safe to retreat. I will assume the disguise of a merchant, and claim that I am returning to my home in the north after a vacation to ‘Her Empress’ Grand City of Mosclaw’.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


The Chase Begins

Day 111

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
14:15, Outskirts of Mosclaw, Gryphon Empire

Yet again, my hopes for an easy escape have been dashed.

As I was making my way down the main road leading north and away from Mosclaw proper, a small patrol of Talons had stopped me, asking for documentation. I produced the proper, forged documents, and were it not for one of those damnable Mage Knights I would likely have escaped without incident!

The mage asked me to hold still as they waved their staff over me, the crystalline end glowing in a faint light as I felt magic probe at my cover. This time, I had been prepared, and had cast a counterspell of sorts that would trigger in such an instance.

The moment the magic had managed to find a crack in my gryphon disguise, I unleashed a burst of light from my horn, creating a temporary blinding, deafening effect similar to what could be seen when an overcharged gem with magical properties bursts, except that I was able to keep myself from being affected in turn.

As the dozen or so Talons tried to recover, I took to the air. I knew the spell would only have a short-term effect on them. As I expected, only a minute had passed before I chanced a peek over my shoulder, finding eight Talons and that one mage gryphon pursuing me.

Fast they may have been, but where gryphons and pegasi excel in speed, we changelings excel in aerial maneuverability. Talons would make mad dives for me, only to be met with empty claws as I would abruptly stop and dart to the left or right. Like a dragonfly evading capture by birds, I avoided their talons, blades and crossbow bolts. For the better part of an hour I slowly made my way towards the northern boreal forests of Gryphon, all whilst avoiding capture and death.

After losing them in the thick greenery of pine trees and a light blanket of lingering morning fog, I have taken refuge in a hollow log beneath a cluster of spruce trees. I am not a fighter, and I know that if I were to attempt to engage a gryphon directly—even a new recruit with only a single pauldron to claim as their own—the fight would end in a mutual draw and death at best. My strength is in my wing muscles and my knowledge of the land. This is what I was chosen for.

I can hear the gryphons calling out to each other on occasion, circling the skies and attempting to find me in the evergreens. I cannot afford to stay here for long. The nights in the wilderness are far from hospitable. If the timberwolves and grass lions do not get to me first, the chill surely will. Even worse, I must continue north before I can journey westward, aiming for the narrow isthmus between the two continents that the gryphons are already using to stealthily move their troops. If I’m lucky, I shall make it across the thin body of water dividing the gryphon lands from Equestria without incident. If that is to be the case, though, then I must rest.

The thick blanket of moss I procured from the log shall have to do for now to keep me warm and concealed. The gryphons seem to be traveling further west, perchance thinking I retreated towards the coastline. I do not hope for a moment that this will be the last I see of them, though.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 113

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
01:00, Northern Gryphon territory, Gryphon Empire

I must be more careful. Far more careful.

I had yet another encounter with my pursuers, and were it not for a few lucky winds and my ability to swerve between the pines and spruces, I would be dead. ’Twould be wrong of me to say that my skills in flight provided no help, but one can only have so much luck. And right now, the last thing I need is to run out of any possible resource I might have, even something as elusive and unreliable as luck.

After almost another hour of flitting between trees, using their boughs as kickboards to quickly change direction in order to dodge darts and crossbow bolts, I managed to lose them once more near a waterfall overlooking a small valley. If I weren’t in such a dangerous situation, I might actually have taken some time to admire the beauty of the taiga wilds. The place is ripe with a wild, natural life force that you cannot find anywhere else in the world. No jungle, not even the legendary Everfree Forest, could hold a candle to this serene, yet untamed, wilderness of the northern lands.

But, I digress. My pursuers have given up the chase for the time being. I cannot fault them, really; who would think to look for a changeling in an abandoned beaver dam of all places?

I shall try and get a few hours’ rest before sun-up… then wait out the day before moving once more at night. I think I might attempt to practice my Equestrian alphabet whilst I am here in this beaver dam. It cannot hurt to better understand the language, after all. My mother always said that knowledge, before all else, is the most valuable asset to a Scout.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 116

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
07:40, Northern Gryphon territory, Gryphon Empire

I think I am beginning to understand how the old Pegasus warriors used to feel in the ancient times, back when they had to watch for Windigoes in the cold, star-filled nights following the end of the Great Despair.

The Equestrians simply refer to that time as the days before the unification of the pony tribes: the times before the event that is now celebrated as a holiday called “Hearth’s Warming”, or so I was told in my younger days as a hatchling. I am weary, but I cannot rest. I am hungry for love, but cannot find any in this emotional wasteland. I want to give in to my weakness and fatigue and just rest, but if I do, I am sure to be caught. That or die from the cold that never leaves the northern wastes, even in summer. How those ancient pegasus warriors managed to survive such trying times, I do not know, but I think I can empathize with them a little.

Hive Mother help me, I was tempted to change into a fox just to gain something from a passing vixen last night.

I have managed to keep my feeding on the love I have stored within me to a minimum, but ’tis taxing. Doing so also means I cannot afford to wear a cover, lest I risk draining what remaining reserves I have. Only months of training in becoming a Scout as well as my military training whilst in my job as a gryphon soldier have kept me from gorging on the warmth stored inside me all at once.

’Tis horrible to teeter on the brink of starvation, even more so when you must do so out of necessity.

The stormy strait dividing Equis and Aresia is within my vision, but I can see the same group of gryphons that had been chasing me earlier watching from the treeline as well. They must know, or at the very least suspect, that I am making my way for Equestria. Do they suspect me of being a spy, though? Do they know of the cargo I keep? I cannot tell. My only hope is that they came to this conclusion whilst chasing me, and not before then. If Mosclaw believes that I have gained information regarding their plans and am intending to share them with Equestria…

No. I cannot give in to such thoughts. Not now.

We have worked too long and too hard to give up. I must believe that what I am doing is going to help. I cannot, will not, allow this war to end with the Empire conquering Equestria. Whilst we may not be on favorable terms with either the gryphons or the ponies, at least Celestia has a tendency towards compassion and mercy. Queen Lepidoptes herself believes that if it came down to one side being utterly defeated by the other, Equestria would at the very least try to make things better in the end. ’Tis better to extend a hoof of mercy to a beaten Gryphon whilst holding a blade in the other than to erase an entire culture and source of love due to paranoia towards a powerful alicorn!

I shall wait for the night and take my chances by heading towards the strait. There are clouds rolling in from the west, and they should provide some cover from the light of the moon and stars tonight.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Enduring the Wilds

Day 117

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
00:10, Northern Gryphon territory, Gryphon Empire

I feel sick. The taste of iron and gryphon flesh is still slick on my tongue.

Oh Hive Mother, why did I do that? Why didn’t I just wait? Why? Why? Why?!

I am a monster, a horrid beast! What right did I have to take away his life? He was so young!

But… but he saw me. He opened his beak, about to cry out.

Methinks there is a reason we as a species have such sharp fangs…

That tiercel could still probably pass as a youth were I to walk by him by in Mosclaw. Why was he a Talon? Are they not trained to be hardened soldiers? Warriors who show no fear?

If that is to be the case… why did I taste such fear from him? Why did I feel the cold, bitter taste of despair on my lips and tongue as I heard him gurgle out for his mother?

Why?

(The remainder of the page is blotted out with smeared ink and water marks, making the rest of the writing illegible)


Day 117

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
03:40, Northern Gryphon territory, Gryphon Empire

I have hidden the body of the Talon that I—

(There are several scratched out lines follow the first line of the journal entry before the writing continues again.)

After hiding any indications of my incident with the Talon earlier this night, I have chanced another peek towards the treeline near the strait. If the pocket watch I have been carrying with me is any indication, the gryphons are rotating their patrols every hour. I can already tell that they notice one of their own is missing.

I can only hope they do not find his remains before I am long gone from this forest.

I was nearly seen when I made a detour to a nearby spring to drink. There was a young female gryphon cleaning some dirt from her wings. Judging by her armor and the pristine condition she kept it, she was likely the leader of the group. I had to wait almost an hour before she left to rejoin her group.

The water, it seems, has helped alleviate some of my sickness.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 118

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
20:35, Northeastern Coastline, north-northeast of Equestria

I have completed the crossing of the Aresian Straits under cover of darkness and a biting gale. Whilst my sickness seems to have lessened greatly, another problem has surfaced in its place.

’Twould seem the gryphons are either far more desperate to capture me than I had thought, or they lack any talented trackers within their rank-and-file Talons. My first suspicion of this being the case was when I noticed not one, but two gryphons dyed grey and wearing light armor I had not seen among my pursuers. The two gryphons not only managed to locate the small burrow I had created underneath a thick pine tree, but also managing to figure out how recently I had created it. Their sharp weapons and demeanor would give them away even if their distinctive fur and feather dye did not: They can only be Ravens.

So, the Owls have now decided to send their best trackers and assassins after me. I would be flattered if not for the fact that I was now dealing with enemies who were trained for finding and killing specific targets. They’re not soldiers, they’re elite warriors and hunters, trained in multiple forms of combat and second in ability only to the Red Talons themselves.

Despite my plight, ’twould seem that nature and the Hive Mother decided to grant me mercy that evening whilst I hid in the branches above my hideout, praying that the Ravens would decide to leave and think I had moved on. In that moment, whilst a strong wind blew against them, a pack of ten or so timberwolves had decided that a pair of gryphons would make for a decent meal. Given the fact that the pack was moving from behind the pair, the wind had masked their mossy stench.

The Ravens managed to fend off the arboreal-beasts’ initial ambush, but it had cost them the chance to find me. Whilst the two assassins fought off the timberwolf pack, I made for a quick escape as soon as a dark cloud had passed over the moon. A part of me felt pity for them, however, when I noticed another dozen or so timberwolves below me, stealthily making their way towards the commotion. Skilled as a gryphon can be with a blade… no creature can cover themselves from all angles with only steel and claw at their disposal. They will be forced to flee the scene, and I will make my getaway.

I tried to ignore the baying of the wolves and screaming from one of the gryphons as I continued through the conifers.

I am now holed up in a large owl nest that seems to have been abandoned for some time. I can still smell the faint odor of its previous occupants. Perchance it will be enough to mask my own scent, though. Besides… after tonight, methinks ’twould be wise to stay off the ground for the remainder of my time in the pine forests.

I learned of some interesting news whilst I overheard the two Ravens talking as they investigated my old hideout: They seem to have come to an agreement of some sort on discarding their armor, and try to pass themselves off as civilians as we near Equestrian lands. No doubt this is an attempt to dissuade suspicion of Gryphon military involvement, should they be discovered in Equestria’s borders. ’Tis a solid plan, given their apparent desperation, which I can taste coming off of them like a mountain spring bubbling up from the ground.

’Twould seem that despite their advantage in numbers, they realize that they are in a risky situation if I manage to reach the border. I can’t help but feel a little pride in knowing I, of all Changelings, am causing them this distress.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Day 120

Year 305 of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign
04:10, Northeastern Equis Coastline

(There are specks of green dotting the journal entry’s page, making the first portion of the journal entry illegible.)

-had I dodged a little later, I would have likely been struck in the lungs. My chitin was able to stop most of the bolt, but it hurts to lift my left foreleg more than what is necessary to walk. Running is out of the question. Thankfully, my flight muscles seem to have been unharmed.

I washed myself off at a creek, mostly to clean the wound and deny the gryphons a trail of blood to follow. Thank the Hive Mother that there was a patch of Vitali Lilies growing near the river. The leaves have served well as a makeshift bandage, and their waxy coating is doing wonders for the pain. It still hurts, but I can at least move without wincing now.

I pray that the bolt wasn’t poisoned. I sniffed it, and there was no lingering smell. I’ve heard of some Ravens coating their blades in poison, but these two hadn’t. Were they under orders to take me alive? I cannot allow that. They will turn me over to the Owls, who will magically pry into my mind and learn of my hive and cluster. I will die before I allow that.

The desert nights as I near the frontier are like a warm blanket, but I cannot rest easy yet. I know the gryphons are still looking for me. I could hear some Aeric outside the small, abandoned badger hole I took refuge in last night. Hushed whispers, but all the same, Aeric. No doubt they do not wish to be seen on Equestrian soil, not after they had been driven off by Celestia herself.

We must be getting close, though. I can taste the faintest hints of emotions that are not the gryphons’. South. They taste of something that’s not quite love, but more than just happiness.

I have never been to Equestria myself, but I have learned the languages of the ponies and now I think I understand the many idyllic descriptions I have heard from veteran scouts about the land. Even from afar I sense this land is ripe with magic, and just being in closer proximity to it means I have felt better than I have in days since I set my hooves on this continent.

It could be my mind simply going mad after days of very little feeding upon love and having little to drink, but I am hopeful.

May the Hive Mother guide me.


Solace

(The following entry was stained in what we now know to be the blood of the young Plexippa Lepidoptes. Our scouts managed to recover the journal from Plexippa, who had been very adamant about keeping it on her person until she had spoken to the leading officer on duty. Whilst most of the pages are illegible following the previous written entry, our best mages managed to carefully remove the majority of the bloodstains whilst preserving the following writing. She could not have written these entries as the events happened, so they must have been recorded in her delirium afterwards.)

They found—

—fort in the distance. I have cast a green flare from my horn. I think they saw it.

-bad. I never have seen so much blood in my life, let alone my own. Pegasi fighting the gryphons and—

It hurts to breathe. Hive Mother, every breath is torture for me. But, I must hold on. Just a little longer. The Plans! Please, take them—

The faint emotions I felt last night. They were coming from a fort! A fort! The last place I would expect such emotions to be felt! The Equestrians are apparently celebrating something. A holiday, perchance? A promotion of someone? I know not, but it is soothing. I—

—gave me painkillers. I’m in a small, dimly lit room. The… sergeant? I do not remember much, but—something about a firefly? I have released the spell on my journal now. I am as safe as I can hope to be.

(The next few lines were a mixture of words that looked to be a mess of Aeric, Equestrian, and what we believe to be her own species’ language. Regrettably, we have no means of creating an accurate translation at the present time. The words ‘mother’ and ‘sorry’, written in Aeric and Equestrian, are able to be deciphered amongst the stains, however. Then, all at once, the writing turned lucid for the journal’s final entries, perchance due to the salves our unicorn healers applied.)

Sergeant Firefly!

Yes, now I remember. She had supposedly helped fight gryphons a few months prior? I know not of her importance aside from that, but she was warm. Very warm. I could feel something else from her, too. What was it? Worry? Sadness?

Sadness. Yes, she was sad. Not crying, but sad. Did I ask her why? I do not remember much, but I am certain she said something about me being brave, and a friend.

I am not brave. I am a coward.

I have killed. I am tired. But she called me friend.

A friend…

(Reports from the two Corps sentries stationed outside of the room Plexippa had been kept whilst tending to her wounds claim that at around 23:45 of August 31st, 1139 A.C. she began to glow a ‘brilliant, verdant color’ and her wings started sparkling. Though allowing the healers to help her, she had ignored their words and questioning, picked up the charcoal pen beside her journal that she still clung to and began to write in it. As soon as she finished what she had written, she closed the journal, set down the charcoal pen, and closed her eyes. Her glow quickly faded and she was reported dead at 00:31 hours of September 1st. The following lines are her final words written in the journal:)


My name is Plexippa Lepidoptes, fifteenth daughter of Her Majesty Queen Lepidoptes IV. I pray that this journal finds itself in the hooves of an Equestrian officer or, I dare hope, Princess Celestia herself. ’Twould be wishful thinking regarding the latter, but in these trying times, one cannot afford to lose spirit. I know my mother would tell me the same.

I do not have long. I am burning what remnants of love and my life force I have left. I have been slipping in and out of what feels like a deep sleep periodically. I know not how long I have been at this fort, but the Equestrians have been surprisingly gentle and cared for me as best as they can. I hope they do not feel they are to blame for me being unable to recover. I have never been the most durable among my species, after all. Still, for tending to me as best as you all could, thank you, Equestrian healers. Thank you, Equestrian warriors, who responded to my magic flare when I was desperate for aid and salvation from my gryphon pursuers. Please know that your actions were worth the effort. I know you owe me no favors, but I would request that you cremate my remains when I die. ’Tis military tradition back in my homeland that comrades would create a pyre for the fallen if they cannot be buried at home. Such is our way of ensuring evidence of kind and way of life is not found.

Contained within this journal are rough plans for an invasion of Equestria. I know not if the Gryphons are aware of these plans being procured by me, but given how desperate they were to find me, it seems likely. My accomplices and I were careful to make copies whilst doing what we could to not leave any clues. Hopefully, the few gryphons that had followed me onto Equestrian soil were the only ones who had any idea. If that is the case, then the pegasi of this fort have silenced whatever chance of a warning they had. Use this knowledge that I have given you, and use it as best as you can.

Princess Celestia, if you by chance read this, know that there is at least one changeling hive that believes you will find the best way to end this upcoming conflict. We are small in number, but we will do what we can to aid you, even if it must be unseen. My mother has stated as such in her letter that is among the documents I have given. Distrust us, despise us, but we will continue to support you, for in doing so, we ensure our own survival as well. The inaction from the other hives is only a means of surrendering to starvation.

War has always been constant in one aspect: it will bring grief and death. Methinks, however, that by siding with you, we will prevent the world from falling into as great of a pit of despair and hatred. Trying times await you, Princess, but I feel that in such times, you will shine brightest. I only wish I could have met you in person. You were an inspiration for my mother many times in her years as a young ruler. Continue to hold that peaceful strength that you possess close. Your soldiers and subjects will look to it in the darkest hours that lie ahead.

May the Hive Mother guide you, Princess Celestia. Know that even if you do not see them, there will be those aiding you quietly from the shadows that even your light may not reach.

If this journal should, by chance, reach my mother: Mother, please do not blame yourself. In the end, royal status should not exempt one from doing what they can to help their subjects. The reverse is true, in fact, for is it not the role of leaders to protect and guide their subjects? I do know that ’twas my duty as a Scout, as well as a Princess and daughter to a Changeling Queen, to do what I could to ensure our kind survive these trying times.

I love you, Mother. Tell my sisters and brothers the same. Know that my time has come, but I died in peace and comfort. ’Tis more than we Scouts can usually hope for in our line of work.

How odd. My magic is fading now, and my eyes are suddenly heavy. I have lost feeling in my hooves. Holding up my pen is taxing for me. I shall rest. This place is warm. Comforting.

So warm.


Even now, ’tis a story that still brings tears to my eyes.

Greetings, my subjects, and warm greetings as well to my sister ruler and her Changelings who live among us, silently watching over us from afar. When I had initially been asked if I could share my own words regarding Princess Plexippa, I was not sure at first if what I had to offer would do her name and memory justice. Before Plexippa’s brave act of heroism, followed by her unfortunate death, I had not seen nor heard anything regarding changelings for at least two hundred years. Which methinks is how they normally like it.

However, Plexippa is more than a stranger or changeling. In the end, she was someone who cared. She was a hero. She willingly gave her life in the hopes that her actions might buy Equestria precious time to prepare for the Gryphon invasion. Not only was she a stranger to Equestria, she was also not a pony. Yet, she did not hesitate to give everything she had to aid us, sacrificing her very life to do so. Not only that, but her words helped embolden me. In the dark days that followed as the invasion of Equestria began, I would at times find my thoughts turn to Plexippa’s words for comfort and hope. In many ways, she was more of a princess than I myself can claim to be during the war. As she herself said, ’tis the role of a leader to guide and protect, and I fear I neglected the latter before the war.

But she did not. ’Tis certain she went above and beyond this calling, protecting not only her own subjects, but those of race and a nation that she had no obligation towards. Methinks she did this out of a genuine desire to protect those that she felt needed it, and for that compassion, I am eternally grateful to her. She did all of this, and expected nothing in return. Such selflessness is a true rarity.

Plexippa Lepidoptes, if by some unearthly chance you can read my words and hear my voice, know this: Your bravery was not in vain. Because of you, my subjects were able to stand even the barest of chances in the first parts of the war. Because of you, Equestria survives and the Gryphon Kingdom is now our friend. I cannot thank you enough for what you gave me and my ponies, but I will try anyway.

Thank you, sincerely, from the bottom of my unaging alicorn heart. I will honor your sacrifice and treasure your memory always. Methinks my only regret is that I never had the chance to meet you. And to her mother, Queen Lepidoptes: I will write you a more private letter, which I will leave where your subjects may find. But I wish to say publicly, on behalf of all Equestria: thank you for your wise and brave decision to help us, thank you for risking the safety of your hive to do so, and thank you for the daughter you raised. She will never be forgotten, nor your aid to us. You saved us, and I am forever grateful.

May the Hive Mother guide you, and may the Sun and Moon bless you. I will raise them both in your honor this coming day, my dear and fallen Princess.

Signed,

—Celestia Daybringer
Princess of the Sun
Diarch of Equestria