//------------------------------// // 127 - The Young and the Nestless // Story: An Extended Holiday // by Commander_Pensword //------------------------------// Extended Holiday Ch 127: The Young and the Nestless Act 19 Pensword stood on the ground next to the Gantrithor’s gangway. He bowed to the Monkey King once more as a sign of respect and gratitude. “Xie xie for your hospitality. Is there some way to avoid these random encounters, or do you like the occasional surprise?” he asked with a chuckle. “Try to keep them to a minimum, brother,” Wukong said as he returned his bow. “Don’t want Ponies thinking this is some kind of vacation spot.” “Nor do I, brother,” Pensword agreed. “I have erased any signs of this island on many charts, so no one will even think there is land here to explore.” “I thank you.” Wukong clasped Pensword’s foreleg at the knee, and held it firmly for a moment. “It was my pleasure.” Pensword reached out to lay his wing over the wrinkled hand. “It truly has been an honor, Lǎoshī. Thank you for your kindness, and your wisdom,” Vital Spark said as he nodded respectfully. “I thank you for your visit,” Wukong offered with a nod. Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “It’s been interesting, this last week. I’m glad to have finally met you.” “And I you. It is rare to meet one with a title who tries to be worthy of it.” Wukong clapped the Pony on the shoulder. “I believe in you, my friend.” Cosy smiled up at the immortal warrior. “Thanks for letting us stay a while. Your grandchildren really know how to have fun!” He grinned, and waved back at the Monkeys by the cliffside. “You're always welcome back here, little brother.” Wukong smiled back at him, messing up his mane gently with a hand. Cosy giggled, before shaking his head to get his mane back into order. “Then I’ll definitely try to come back here soon.” He frowned. “I just wish there was a way to write you letters.” “I did forget to give you a gift, didn’t I?” wukong asked as the thought occurred to him. “Making friends with everyone was gift enough for me. You really don’t need to, if you don’t want to.” “Nonsense,” Wukong insisted as he patted down his body, as though he were looking for something, only for a silk sack to flop lazily out of his sleeve in a comedic fashion. “Ah. There it is.” He offered it to Bellacosa. Bellacosa took it, and cocked his head in confusion. “What is it?” “This sack has a shared space with another sack, which I have. As long as it is you putting something in there, it will appear in my sack, and vice versa.” He grinned cheekily. “But it will only work for you.” “You mean … I can…?” Bellacosa’s eyes widened, and he leapt up to wrap his hooves around the Monkey’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Wukong!” Wukong didn’t even flinch as he smiled, before taking the young Pony in his arms, and lowering him back to the ground. “You’re very welcome, little brother.” Cosy scampered back to the gangplank, and cheered as he showed the sack to the other foals. “I hope you find the knowledge you eternally seek, little sister,” Wukong said as he turned to Avalon. Then he leaned down, and kissed her head. “I think I will. After all, Grif and I still have to bring back the Winds, and like it or not, I’m pretty sure he’ll need an accomplished Evoker to help.” She winked at the Monkey King. “And will you be saying farewell to your little nephew as well?” Wukong looked at the Gryphon cub, doing his best to be gentle as he placed a hand on the little one’s head, and rubbed it gently. “I hope to see you again, my friend,” Grif offered as he and Wukong grasped each other at the wrist, then clapped each other on the opposite shoulder. “Don’t unseat any deities for a while, okay?” “I’ll try.” Wukong laughed as he released his grip. “Have a safe trip home.” And with that, they boarded the Gantrithor, and the gangplank slid inwards. Soon the mighty ship was rising into the air, and pointing towards home. Within five minutes, it was small upon the horizon. Within ten minutes, it was barely a dot. Rainbow Dash looked at the falling sun as she waited impatiently for Fluttershy to exit her cottage. It has been boring the last few days. Wonderbolt practice was on hold while Spitfire talked with Princess Luna about the new bill, and she’d already finished her shift with the Ponyville weather Ponies for the week, earning a nice bonus for her speed and accuracy. So, what better way to let off some steam after a boring day than hanging out with her cool new Thestral friend, who was already her friend before. She bit her lip in anticipation as she kicked her cloud with an excited twitch. The door to the cottage finally opened as a familiar pair of long, fluffy ears twitched back and forth, before Angel Bunny peered out into the twilight to scan for any intruders. Rainbow Dash had been quick enough to dodge out of the lapine’s line of sight as it turned back inside, and made a series of curt squeaks and other noises, before hopping out properly into the yard . A familiar voice yawned as Angel Bunny thumped his foot impatiently. “I’m coming, Angel. Remember what we talked about last time. You need to learn more about how to be patient.” Fluttershy pranced out of her cottage with her usual cheer as she leaned down, and nuzzled the rabbit. “Now then, we’d better get the food ready for our nocturnal friends. Oh, and some snakewood for Sylvio.” “Can I help?” Rainbow Dash asked as she landed loudly on the ground, which elicited a startled squeak from Fluttershy. “Please?” she added as she hopped back and forth between her hooves in a manner that spoke volumes. Fluttershy sighed. “How long have you been waiting for me to come out, Rainbow Dash?” Rainbow Dash looked to the sky, back to Fluttershy, then chuckled sheepishly. “An hour.” “That’s a pretty long time for you, isn’t it? I mean, the last time you waited so long was when you were in line to get the last Daring Do novel at Filthy Rich’s store.” She frowned. “Sorry to have kept you.” “No problem,” Rainbow Dash said with a casual wave of her hoof. “The Wonderbolts and the Commander have a saying about the military: hurry up and wait.” She laughed. “Besides, I don’t get to see my best friend Fluttershy too much, since Twilight’s spell happened.” “Rainbow … you usually use that tone when you want something,” Fluttershy pointed out surprisingly bluntly. “Are you really looking to help me with my animal friends today, or was there something else you need my help with after I finish feeding them?” “I wanted to see how you were doing,” Rainbow Dash replied honestly. “And, well, maybe spend time with you. The whole sleeping during the day thing makes it kinda hard to hang out. That, and I … kinda wanted to see if any of your new friends friends might want to volunteer for night shifts with the weather patrol. Since you guys are always awake at night, it sorta fits. And, uh … heh. Then we won’t have to draw straws every month for who takes night duty.” “Rainbow, I’ve been spending the last few weeks just getting to know the basics of the basics. I haven’t really had much time to focus on making friends with the other Thestrals yet. Between the classes and taking care of all the animals, I hardly have enough time for my usual tea parties with Discord.” Rainbow Dash made a face. “I still don’t understand how you can stand it when he takes over your cottage like that.” “It’s not that much of an inconvenience. He’s actually pretty funny most of the time. He tells the best jokes.” She giggled as she walked off to a storage shed, where she pulled out some freshly smoked fish. “Though speaking of visitors, who’s the new friend you’ve been seeing lately? I can smell him on your coat, so you must’ve met just before flying here.” Rainbow Dash gave a confused look. “I haven’t seen anyone since–. Wait, you can smell it?” “Uhuh.” Fluttershy nodded as she flashed her same cute smile. Despite the fact it exposed some of her fangs, that somehow made her look even cuter than before. “Thestrals were made for hunting, after all. I may not be a meat eater, but I still have the enhanced senses.” “Dang, just….” Rainbow’s eyes darted nervously to either side as she scanned the area. “I can tell you,” she whispered as she zoomed in close to her friend, “but not out here,” she added hastily. “Inside..” “Rainbow, the last time you acted like this, you were going to tell me how much you liked Daring Do. That doesn’t mean….” She gasped. “You found a colt friend?” Rainbow Dash moaned, and facehoofed. “Not so loud, okay? I’m already having dinner when his dad and mom get back. Just … please, can we go inside?” “After we take care of the animals. Then we’ll talk,” Fluttershy said as she tossed a fish Rainbow’s way. “Now come on. Oh, the others are going to be so glad when they hear the news!” “NO SHARING!” Grif sat at the table already when Hammer Strike entered the war room. He had a stein of something in front of him, but it wasn’t alcohol, as far as Hammer Strike could tell. The moment he’d entered, Grif locked eyes with him, then hit a button beneath the desk, and the door closed and locked. “So, you want to tell me what happened?” “What are you referring to?” Hammer Strike asked as he moved towards the table. “I think we both know what I’m referring too.” Grif took a swig. “Wukong had an interesting story to tell.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I should have expected he would talk to you about it.” “I’m not upset. I just want to know. I’m your friend. You can rely on me, you know.” “I know I can, Grif. I just prefer not talking about it, that damned energy.” “Do you really think our trust in you is misplaced?” After a moment of silence, Hammer Strike finally sighed. “Sometimes, I wonder.” He started off quietly. “Between being in that altered state of mind and me being thrown about time, I’m hardly around. After that, our interactions are different or nonexistent anymore.” He placed a hoof on his head. “I’ll be honest. I’ve hidden so much from you all, and you know this, but you don’t know the severity of what I hide.” Grif leaned onto his desk, and joined his talons together. “Hammer Strike, if Pensword, Vital Spark, or I were captured, beaten, and stuffed in a cell somewhere, what would you do?” “I’d search, until I could find and rescue you.” “And if you had no resources? If the enemy has legions between you and us?” “I’d make a way, by my bare hooves, if needed.” “What if the threat was me, or Pensword, or Vital?” “I would find a way to make things right.” “And if there was no way?” “I’d … deal with things accordingly,” Hammer Strike sighed. “That's why we trust you,” Grif said plainly as he settled back into his chair, then took another drink. “Because, in the end, no matter your secrets, or whatever you think of us, no matter the weight on your shoulders, we know that, in the end, you’ll have the plan we need.” “Yeah…” Hammer Strike’s attention suddenly drifted elsewhere. “Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” “Are you okay?” Grif asked him outright. “You seemed to be doing better since the wedding, but you’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately.” “I’ve seen a lot this last week, and it’s only gotten worse since the Primal.” Hammer Strike gave a soft shudder. “I’ve seen more than any mortal should, and I’m not talking about the dead or the embodiments. I don’t know who I saw, but I felt their power, and I can still feel their gaze watching over me. I feel … tense, nervous, bothered, whatever you want to call it.” “I don’t know how you do it sometimes.” Grif shook his head. “If he didn’t seem to bear you any ill will, then the best advice I can give you is let it run its course.” “We’ll see how it goes, I guess,” Hammer Strike sighed. “I’m going to the workshop. I want to take my mind off things for a while.” “I have an appointment anyway,” Grif said as he nodded, and pressed the button to release the door. “If you need to talk, I’m here,” he offered as he drained the last of his his drink. “I know.” It was late on the Gantrithor. The ship cruised through the sky in the calm night air with the ocean churning far below. The deck was suspiciously clear of the usual sentries. Grif had allowed them to head to bed early, so only those looking into the long range equipment were still awake at this point. The moon shone brightly in its bed of stars, illuminating the deck. And so it was that Grif stood in the middle of the night without his armor, and covered in scratches as he stared across the way at an an equally battered Gilda. The two smiled at each other as they panted. Gilda’s progress over the last week or so had greatly improved, and she was now taking Grif on for several clashes a night. “You're still relying too much on thinking.” Grif chuckled as he ran his talons through his crest. “You're almost there, though.” “You know how hard it is for me to let go like that, Grif, even if I do have forgiveness.” Gilda scuffed her talons over the wood as she took deep breaths to settle her breathing. “There’s only us here, Gilda. I’m fast enough to handle anything you can throw at me, even if you lose yourself completely,” he reassured her. “And if you’re really serious about taking Thalia down, you’ll need instinct as much as thought.” Gilda sighed, then nodded as she set her mouth in a grim line. She shifted her weight into a crouch, and flexed the claws on her padded hind legs in preparation for what was to come. “Again?” she asked. “That depends. Are you ready?” “I just … don’t want to hurt you. Well, I don’t mean scratching hurt you, but … you know, hurt you hurt you.” Grif smiled gently. “You can’t really hurt me very much. I’ve been fighting a lot longer than you, and I have more experience in feral combat. You want to know how I got so good?” Gilda nodded mutely. “It’s because I’ve made peace with the beast, Gilda. I’ve already had blood on my talons: the evokers, the ones who would have killed Daedalus, who did kill Kel’leam. I’ve given in to the beast before, but I’ve also met with it, spoken to it, and, as I said before, made peace with it. I am no longer so base a creature that it lives only for blood and war.” Gilda swallowed the lump that had been building in her throat. Grif was an extraordinary Gryphon. He could manipulate the winds, move faster than most any arrow, and stare down the most fearsome of opponents without flinching once. And yet, he claimed that it was possible for anyone to make peace with their feral side, that it had been done routinely back in his time. She looked at the stern gaze of her teacher, and saw the hardened gaze of a well seasoned warrior. He was confident, calm, … at peace. “All right,” Gilda finally said as she brushed her own purple crest off to the side. “Let’s do this.” “Before you begin, ask yourself, ‘why do you want to beat Thalia so badly?’ Bring that to the forefront. Create that drive. Make it your center,” Grif coached as he bent low, his claws scraping gently against the edges of a metal rivet . His tail began to sway erratically. Gilda did her best to hide the blush as she eyed Grif, and followed his advice. She focused on Thalia, on her goal, her current purpose. Her tail began to sway counter to Grif’s as she moved her forelegs probingly, even while her talons clacked against the deck. In an instant, the two were at each other’s throats. This time, Gilda was much more into the fight. Grif soon found himself sustaining several new wounds in a very short time as she ignored any of the pain he inflicted on her. Of course that only made the beast beg for more, and Grif found himself relenting as the fight became more intense. Grif’s thoughts became fuzzy as he brought out more of his feral nature. The female had to be tested. He had to see. Still, Gilda proved more than a match as she bit and clawed. They clashed and smashed again, and Grif found himself sustaining further injuries. The beast begged for more, and Grif felt the world get yet fuzzier as he dove deeper. Soon the conscious mind began to feel like an afterthought as the two beasts fought again and again. The last thing Grif could remember was tackling her as the world swam away. When the Gryphon came to, he was lying on the deck. From what he could tell by his internal clock, it must have been only a couple of hours before dawn. His coat was covered in shallow cuts, and his wings were fully extended, wrapped around something warm … and purring. His eyes widened as he noted the purple-tipped crest and the classic lion-eagle body. He let out a squawk of shock as he got to his paws, and backed away from her. “Oh, no.” Gilda purred in her sleep, and tried to snuggle back up to his side, before blinking open her eyes to look around groggily. “Wha–what happened?” she asked in a dazed voice. “Last thing I remember, we were fighting, and things got more and more feral. When I woke up, we were … together,” Grif noted. “I don’t want to assume, but there are a few things that could have happened, and I think you’ll be the one to answer which one did.” Gilda’s eyes widened for a moment, and she blushed heavily, before wrapping herself up in her wings as she curled her tail around her body. “So, … the feral side does more than fight.” She tried her best to chuckle nonchalantly. It came out as little more than a croak. Grif wiped his face with his talons. “I knew I should have had someone observing,” he groaned. “Winds damn it, I’m a married Gryphon! How could I do this to them? How could I do this to you?” Gilda moaned, balled her talons into a fist, and banged it against her head. “How could I have been so stupid?” “To be honest, Gilda, this probably wasn’t your fault.” Grif blushed beneath his feathers. “I’ve grown quite fond of you over time. I just hadn’t expected it to be at … that level.” Gilda broke off. “Wait, you actually like me?” “Well, yeah, but … wait a minute, that kind of reaction means….” Gilda blushed violently. “Y-yeah. I, uh … kinda did, too. I guess the question is who initiated it?” She chuckled mirthlessly to herself. “Then again, I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Grif shook his head adamantly. “I can’t hide this, Gilda. You know that. I’ll make sure you don’t get the brunt for this. You don’t deserve that.” “You don’t deserve the backlash either,” Gilda countered. “At the very least, you know you have to tell your wives. After last night, it’s the right thing to do. As for the clan….” She groaned. “Oh, Winds, the clan. What are they going to think when they find out?” Grif flicked her forehead with his middle talon, snapping her out of her spiral. “Hey. We’ll figure this out together.” Then he pressed his forehead gently to hers. “For now, return to your room. Get some rest, and stay there, until I send for you, okay?” Gilda nodded mutely, and left the deck without a word to slink silently back into her cabin. With her safely returned, Grif turned towards his own quarters, and began a long, slow walk as he prepared for a hard day of explanations. Pensword banged his head on his desk. The mares were putting the foals to bed, and he was stuck in a nook of a room taking note after note for the spirits. He had hoped they would leave him alone, after they’d left Gryphonia. Unfortunately, while they’d steered clear of Wukong’s island, they came back with a vengeance, once they’d cleared enough distance from the shore. He groaned as he ran through the tally for all the requests, then smacked his head again. “Three hundred beaks.” Even after all this time, and upping the prices to 50 beaks an adult, five per youngling, and free for a cub under five, he still got bombarded. These had only been in the last half hour or so. He shook his head. “I want to be done for tonight,” he finally snapped. “I’m tired, and I need to spend time with my family, understand? We can resume tomorrow.” “You know, talking to yourself is supposed to be one of the first signs of madness,” Vital Spark said with a teasing smile as he leaned against the door frame on his hind hooves, while folding his forelegs. “How?” Pensword jumped in surprise, and flared his wings. He turned to another corner, and back at Vital. “How’d you get past all my guards?” “You did give me the security badge for a reason, Vulpix. Besides, we’re on the Gantrithor, and Caring is always watching. Pretty sure she’d have alerted them, if I was a threat,” he said matter-of-factly. “May I come in?” “I was talking about my private security,” he snapped as he waved a wing to the empty corner. “And I guess,” he grumbled. “You thought it was funny, Moon Burn?” He groaned, and slammed his forehead onto the desk once more. “Keep that up, and you’ll be able to break through that desk like Ling does cinder blocks.” “Who?” Pensword asked into his desk. “Matthew doesn’t know either. Just come in, and sit down in the bean bag chair, or turn human. Just stop standing in the doorway.” Vital clopped in. “You know, Ling the Kitsune, one of Nanami’s friends?” “I thought you were talking about a game character, or–.” Pensword muttered. “Who also happens to be based on the character from Mulan.” Vital chuckled as he leaped onto the beanbag, and settled in. “So, aside from being stuck as a messenger boy, how’s life treating you?” “Well, other than being snuck up on, and having my heart nearly explode out of my chest, pretty much the usual routine. I am wondering when it will be interrupted. I got my morning exercises, special training, work during the day, evening training and special training, and then bed.” He somehow managed to be heard, despite keeping his head down. “Also, when we go back to Earth, I want models of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria.” “You’re a real model citizen, Vulpix,” Vital chuckled. “For which world?” he snarked back. “Well, that depends on the manufacturing sticker, doesn’t it?” Vital grinned, then stuck out his tongue briefly. “Ha ha,” he muttered. “So, what brings you to my domain, Vital?” “Just wanted to visit with a friend is all. It’s been awhile since we were able to just talk alone, you know?” “True. You’ll have to pick the topic, though. I’ve been at those notes for the last hour, and to use a phrase, my brain is fried.” “Deep fried, air fried, or rotisserie style?” Pensword looked up for the first time during the entire conversation. “You … joke,” he muttered. “I ... I don’t know. Just, please…” He chuckled a little. “Whirlwind, stop making faces at Vital. He can’t see you.” “At least he gets the jokes,” Vital smirked. “And it seems he’s very good at cheering a certain grumpy commander up when he needs it.” Pensword’s expression flattened. “Whirlwind is my sister,” he deadpanned. “Moonburn is my brother. Iron Pen is my father, Moonbeam is my mother, and then there's Gramma.” “... And now I’m the one feeling stupid.” Vital chuckled. “Sorry about that, Whirlwind, Moonburn.” “You do realize they’re going to tease you about this constantly now, right?” He looked to the air above Vital. “Meaning I am going to tell him when you do tease him. No getting away from teasing those that can’t hear or see you.” Whatever it was they did, all Vital could see was a triumphant smirk on Pensword’s muzzle. Vital shrugged. “I can live with that. After all, I have to put up with you three teasing me on a regular basis, not to mention Murphy constantly trolling me. Oh yeah, and one of the most powerful and ornery Unicorns in history, who also happens to be my teacher. Am I missing anything else?” “That we all love you, and that if anything did harm you, you’d have the A-Team of Ponies and power backing you up, hunting down whatever attacked you?” Vital chuckled. “Touché, mon ami.” Then he sighed. “Though you’re not always going to be able to protect me, you know.” “Then you’d better have learned what we are teaching you.” Pensword smiled, before frowning. “I expect to be the first of our group to go over to the Glens. So, if you show up in my sights before then, I’ll be irritated.” He held up a wing. “Pegasi live the shortest of the tribes, Vital. Unicorns live an easy fifty to seventy five more years than us flyers. Unless Clover teaches you how to extend your life, like she and Starswirl, that is.” “That probably depends on if I get married here or back on Earth.” Vital chuckled, and shook his head. “Oh the crazy life we lead.” “Yet, it is normal for us,” Pensword answered. “Oh, you can have a sugarcane stalk on your way out. I would enjoy talking more, but I hear Moonriver calling for her story. I guess I have to bid you goodnight. Sorry I have to end it here.” Vital smiled. “I understand. Though I’m still looking forward to hearing more of those stories from your clan. We should set up some sort of night, just for us to hang out and talk. I kind of miss doing that, you know?” Pensword smiled softly. “I think I can do that. Just wait till we get home first, okay?” “You’ve got a deal. Oh, and don’t forget to invite Storyteller. He likes getting new material.” “We’ll see, but I don’t want another of his long stories.” He waved a wing at the Unicorn. “Now shoo. Don’t you have Trixie to look after?” He tossed a sugarcane stalk at Vital, which the Unicorn caught in his magic. “Maybe the two of you can share it,” he teased. “Vulpix, don’t tempt me,” Vital warned, then chuckled as he lifted a second stalk from the dish. “A man never steals a lady’s treat.” And with that, the two of them left, laughing together as they parted ways. Grif had sent for Gilda with instructions to wait outside his door. It was late that night, and the day had been long and stressful. Grif hadn’t contacted her, but had made sure meals were sent to her room. Apparently, it had been the first time he’d been seen outside his room all day, according to the Gryphon who’d delivered her tray. Even now, the hall outside the imperial quarters was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as she waited. Gilda didn’t know what to do, so she wore her armor, and stood in the corridor outside the door, waiting. Naturally, the worst scenarios possible were playing through her brain. She may not have remembered anything from the fight, but she was still responsible for what happened. She’d take whatever punishment Avalon and Shrial demanded. Grif stepped outside of the room, stone faced, but looking less stressed than she’d have thought. His fur was washed, and his feathers preened. Most of his wounds had been treated, if not healed. He looked at Gilda with a cold emotionless face as he motioned for her to sit. She gulped and slowly sat down on the wooden floor. Worry etched in her features. Her lion tail tapped on the ground in an anxious staccato. “I have laid my soul bare to them, and confessed what happened. They’ve decided to forgive me, provided such a thing never happens again,” Grif explained. “But for you, they have decided that you have a choice to make.” “A-a choice?” she stammered. Grif withdrew a large bag of bits from his pack. It clinked suggestively as he placed it before her. “Your first option is that you can take these bits. There is easily enough here to last you months, if you’re careful. You will stop using the Bladefeather name, and leave as soon as we dock at New Unity. You can go wherever you’d like, but you cannot return to the Bladefeather compound.” Gilda gulped, and licked her beak nervously. Next, Grif withdrew a small black box, and placed it on the ground opposite the coins. It opened to reveal a ring. It wasn’t quite so intricate as the rings Grif was given by Daedalus, but it was still of fine make, formed from interlocking wires of bronze, gold, and silver in a vine-like pattern. A gold carving of the Bladefeather clan symbol had been welded onto the front of it. “Your other choice is that you will put this ring on, and join us in the bedroom. If any Gryphon asks you, you are to say we eloped at our last stop. When we head to the Evoker fortress to retrieve Avalon's scrolls, we will stop in the Thestral capital of Ys, and you and I will be married discreetly. However, if you choose this option, then as a punishment, Avalon and Shrial expect you to get pregnant tonight. This is their consequence for your actions. You will also be stuck protecting the nest, until the child is weaned.” Gilda moved to speak, but Grif held up a staying hand. “You can’t make you choice, until I leave,” he said sternly. “I will leave this hallway presently, and kiss my children goodnight in their crib. Then I will return to my bed. The choice from there is yours.” True to his word, Grif gave her a nod, the stone face breaking to show a hopeful smile beneath it, before he turned, opened the door to the imperial quarters, and entered, closing the door behind him. Gilda sat there in the hallway for a good thirty minutes. She picked the sack up, and tested the weight in her talons, before dropping it to the ground. Then she picked up the box with the ring in it. The debate raged through her mind as she tried to glean the future each item held. The more she thought, the more she found the sack and its options leaving a taste of ash in her beak. She would be able to live off it for sure. At least till she got a better job, but with that caveat, and with how the clanless had been flocking to the Bladefeather banner, she doubted she would be happy, and she could easily become the last remaining clanless in Equestria. She looked at the ring, and steeled her nerves. Even though she had no clue what was going to come, and despised nest guard duty, it was better than the alternative. And … admittedly, that instinctual part of her stirred when the remnants of Grif’s scent flowed into her nostrils. In the end, she knew what had to be done. She shredded any pride she had left into tatters, and approached the door. It took two minutes of waiting after her first hesitant tap, before she realized her mistake. Grif himself had said it was her decision. He wasn’t coming to the door. She had to take the initiative. She took a deep breath, then pulled the handle down, and pushing the door open. Grif’s imperial suite had changed significantly from its initial acquisition. The room had been stripped of most of its finery, which had been sold or distributed to help house and fund the clan. All that remained of the opulence was the gold filigree on the walls. A long wooden table and chairs sat in the dining area, while multiple puffy easy chairs sat in a corner next to a fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and weapon and armor mounts stood in the corners displaying different pieces of Grif and Shrial’s armory. An empty mount had been left bare near the door. She gulped as she removed her own armor piece by piece to lay on the dummy. When she’d finished disrobing, she padded gingerly through the apartment, trying to ascertain the bedchamber’s location. She clenched the ring box tighter as she pushed another door open to find a hallway lined with doors on one side. The other had a series of bright patches where paintings had once hung. Eventually, she arrived in front of a set of grand double doors. The ornate carvings were a strong indicator just whose quarters lay ahead. It took another three minutes for her to build up enough nerve to open the doors. Her wings and tail dragged along the ground behind her as she stepped forward. The ring now glinted on her finger as she passed through, and then closed the door behind her. Blood Moon sat at the cafe, waiting patiently. The sun had set, and while he had gotten up early for tonight, he was still nervous. He pondered for what had to be the thousandth time, if this would or even could work. Sure, Pensword had managed it, but he was Pensword, war hero, battle hardened soldier, and all around role model! He was just … Blood Moon. The Thestral continued to fidget as he took an occasional sip from his tea, letting his eyes rove over the streets of Ponyville. It had been subtle at first: leaving a flower at the mare’s station, getting a dead rabbit in return, solving the mystery of the garden disaster, the fancy perfume from the spa she’d liked. He sighed as he pulled a bright green feather onto the table, and turned it over again and again. “Can I really do this?” Lighting Dust came without warning. One moment there was no one, the next, she was staring at him pensively as she rested her hooves on the table. A gentle smile pulled at her lips as she noticed the feather. The colt had chosen to wear his dress armor from the war in an attempt to stay formal. Much to Blood Moon’s surprise, he found the same type of armor on the mare. “I see you got my hint this time.” She giggled as a waiter placed a glass of water and a new teapot on the table, before retreating with the old one. “I think so. Just how–?” he began. As usual, Lightning Dust was straight to the point. “I want to be your special somepony. I know back then I would’ve been called a Jr. Camp Follower. Today, we call it a special somepony. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just … well, I want to give us a chance.” Blood Moon placed the feather on the table, and chuckled. “I am not so naive as to think you should follow my way of living, when I am the one in your time period, though it is nice that you want to try. There’s really just one obstacle we’d have to overcome, before we can, as you said, ‘give us a chance.’” He tapped the Captain’s rank on his lapel with his wing tip. “The Commander needs to be apprised of our intent, both as our commanding officer and the leader of my clan. Thestrals have certain customs that have to be observed in situations like this.” “Do I need to kill a predator, prove my skill at arms, maybe something else?” Lighting Dust asked. Blood Moon laughed. “No need to be so hasty, Lightning.” He swept his red mane out of his eyes with a flick of his hoof.  Two scarlet orbs stared into Lighting Dust’s. “Then again, that is your character. Even now, you get an order, and you charge ahead like you know everything you need to know.” His smile widened. “It reminds me very much of how I used to be when Pensword first tapped me for the Gryphon Slayers.” Lighting Dust blushed, and bowed her head. “Well, in homage to the old ways, I’d like it if you wore my feather under your uniform jacket. I checked the surviving military codes. It’s allowable under the laws of divination, so the lover or family member can be located and alerted in the event of the soldier’s death. That being said, you’d better not die on me,” she added with a wink. “Studying our laws?” Blood Moon chuckled as a mischievous glint shone in his eye. “Interesting. Tell me, Miss Dust, what do you wish to do tonight?” “Have dinner, talk, and, under the second watch, I want to spar with training swords.” She smirked slyly. “Without our armor. All terrain approved.” “So, you want to see how we can fight in the sky as well as on the ground?” Blood Moon nodded. “Very well, but training robes are a must,” he countered. “No time limits. Whoever tires out first calls it off.” “Thinking of getting the upper wing? I got an all nighter draught from Princess Twilight before coming. I won’t be that easy to take down.” Blood Moon’s smile just grew. “Oh, a planner. I guess some of what Animal Control was trying to teach you actually stuck in that head of yours, after all. Tonight just got even more interesting.” He smirked. “Care to place a wager for the outcome?” “Sure, but you go first. Then I’ll counter, if I don’t like your terms. A mare has to know what to expect from a stallion, after all.” “Very well, my fair Pegasus.” Blood Moon chuckled as he gave a satirical half bow. “If I win, then you will have to be my personal porter in my next hunt.” Lighting Dust grinned. “Interesting choice. Here’s my counter. If I win, you’ll have to skin anything I hunt, and teach me how to improve.” “In other words, no matter which of us wins, we’re still going on a date?” “Glad to see you’re learning.” “You do realize I was one of your main teachers during your probation, right?” Blood Moon laughed. “Come, let’s pick a meal. You eat fish, right?” “Of course. The Luna Bay Giant Tuna is great. I like it with a side of lemon, apple slices, and parsnip.” “The wild rice looks good, too.” “So, are the two of you ready to order?” the waiter asked as she levitated a pad and pencil in his magic. “Yes, please. We’ll have two orders of the Luna Bay Giant Tuna on a bed of wild rice.” “A good choice. Would you like that with or without the lunar spice rub?” Both patrons stared, confused, and the waiter chuckled. “Last time the Princess was here, she tried the fish, and then sent a recipe for her own spice rub to be used only for her, her Thestrals, and … any dates they might have.” Lighting Dust laughed, then broke off as her ear twitched. She turned to look out over the darkened street, but it was empty. “I feel like I’m being watched.” Blood Moon’s jovial expression dropped. “We’ll take the spice rub.” As the waiter took his leave, Blood Moon returned his attention to Lightning Dust. “I’ve had the same feeling, but whoever is out there, they seem to be able to evade even a Thestral of my training, and that’s saying something.” Blood Moon scowled. “We’ll let Pensword know when he gets back. This could prove troublesome, if it’s a spy, especially one that skilled” Lighting Dust grinned. “Then we’d better give them something to talk about. “She flapped her wing, and leaned over the table to kiss Blood Moon on the lips. Blood Moon’s eyes widened in shock. When the mare broke away, he fell flat off his chair, stiff as a board. “Um, Blood Moon? Are you … okay?” A slow, dopy grin spreading across his muzzle was all she got in response. Grif sat in a chair in the bridge. Gryphons scurried around him, checking the ship's various displays and working hard to keep the vessel afloat. Grif paid them no attention as he adjusted the tiles on the jade puzzle box Wukong had given him. He’d been unable to put time into it before, thanks to recent events, but now he’d finally found some time by himself to work on it. He was sure he could already see the pattern, but it was still a matter of making the right movements to bring it out. Pensword walked onto the bridge, and made a beeline for the viewing windows to look out at the sky. His brow furrowed in concern. “Hmm. looks like a storm’s brewing. The Pegasi are going to have trouble breaking this up, if it makes landfall.” The grin on the Pony’s face spoke louder than words just which side of the Pegasus’ nature was in control. Clearly, Matthew was still enamored over the ship. “Uh huh,” Grif nodded, but didn’t look up as he worked. “But considering we’re still a good day out from Equestria at this speed, I’d say it’s unlikely.” “True, true,” Pensword replied as he turned back to face is friend. “Wait, is that a puzzle box? I’ve never seen one in real life.” He walked up to take a closer look. “Looks complicated.” Grif shrugged. “Wukong gave it to me. He said there was something inside. Must be something good, if he went to the trouble of putting it in one of these.” “I guess. I wonder what it is, though. You want me to get a beanbag chair, and stay up here with you?” “Almost there,” Grif said as he worked. “I’ve heard several clicks. I just need to figure out the last few moves.” “That sounds awesome. I hope you like whatever’s inside.” “Honestly, I don’t know if I will or not. It’s Sun Wukong. There could be anything in there,” Grif chuckled as the box produced another click. “So, a true surprise, then. It feels so weird, though, doesn’t it, knowing you got to meet one of your biggest idols?” “Especially when that idol is a god/demon hybrid.” Grif chuckled, and then the box sounded a final click, and the lid popped open. Grif grinned as he opened the lid the rest of the way, and emptied the box of its contents. A purple silk bag with the yin-yang emblazoned on it clattered into his hand, along with a paper Grif was careful to pick up and unfold. As he suspected, Wukong’s florid script met his gaze. My brother, My monkeys found these while searching for oysters near the far shore of our island. Let them serve as a reminder to you that fate may not always be kind, but it can be cheated. Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Grif picked up the bag, and gave Pensword an incredulous look. “Should we see?” “I say yes. I mean, he said something about cheating fate. What does that mean? If someone like Wukong says something like that, well….” Two green objects dropped from the bag into Grifs hand. At first, they looked like simple stones, but a closer examination revealed the green swirling deep inside them in uncertain patterns. One had a dark purple border tracing its edges. The other held a lighter, almost lavender border. Despite the lack of numbers, the twenty flat surfaces covering them made it clear what they were meant to be. “Polyhedral dice?” Grif looked at them curiously. “I guess,” Pensword said. “And you have two of them. What does that mean?” “They seem slightly different at the base,” Grif noted as he gave them a closer look. “How so?” “Look at the coloring,” Grif noted. “One’s more of a royal purple.” “I assume that’s important?” “I suppose.” Grif shrugged. “Only one way to find out, though. Lets see what they do.” He took the lighter die, and shook it in his hand a bit, before dropping it to the ground. The die skidded across the floor, before stopping a few feet away. The upwards pointing face shone brightly, revealing an alien symbol. It warped and shifted a few times, before finally settling on the number thirteen. The air above the dice crackled as tines of red and black energy formed a malevolent feeling orb. The orb sucked the die into it with a loud pop. The number thirteen flashed again, this time on the face of the orb itself, and was followed by a metallic clank as something long and narrow slid out from it. A scream tore through the air, followed by a loud pop as the orb vanished. All that remained was a long, thin scabbard and the blade it was attached to. Closer examination revealed it to be a katana. The sheath was made from black lacquered wood with the silvery visage of wings wrapping around it. An angular design of a unicorn like head staring forward fiercely near the top. The guard was shaped with an uncanny resemblance to a certain amulet with wings sticking out to the sides, and an equine head looking to the left, but it was cast in silver this time, giving it a less menacing look. The handle was wrapped in gray skin and white cord with another silver talisman in the same shape as the guard. The pommel was simple silver. “Is that...?” Grif asked when he pointed to the guard with trepidation. “Uh, I don’t know, Grif,” Pensword spoke. “What am I looking at? And why did I hear a scream?” “That guard reminds me of the–AH!” Grif gasped in pain as he wrapped his hand around the handle. It burned, but he couldn’t let go. The pain seared deeper and deeper. He grit his teeth, doing his best not to scream. “Grif? Grif!” Pensword shouted. He reacted on instinct, taking hold of the scabbard as he tried to yank it out of his friend’s grip. “What the hell is this?” he growled. Grif was about to give in to the pain, and let the scream fly, when the pain disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He stood there, panting heavily, the sword still clutched in his hand. It seemed almost to thrum in time with his heartbeat. “I’m fine,” he said between breaths. “Like hell you are,” Pensword snapped. “Even a foal could see how much pain you were in. Tell me. What happened?” he demanded as he released his grip on the scabbard.. “I felt it, like a fire burning deeper and deeper. I … I don’t know how else to describe it, except, well, I think it burned my soul, if that makes any sense,” Grif told his friend as he drew the blade. It gave off a soft, inviting glow as he pulled it free. The blade was thirty inches of shimmering death. A razor-sharp edge carried all the way to the tip with a beautiful grey himone dancing from one end to the next in waves. Another Alicorn symbol was engraved near the base, followed by two rapidly cooling symbols that had just engraved themselves into the blade. “Okay, you seem to recognize that. What is it? And what do you mean by a fire burning your soul? If you’ve been hurt there, you should probably have a talk to Hammer Strike.He’s probably the only one that might know how to take care of it.” His face fell. “He can definitely do better than I can at the moment.” “I’m fine,” Grif promised as he drew a talon across the edge of the sword, “better even. I feel amazing.” “So first you were in intense pain, and now you feel amazing?” Pensword glared suspiciously at the blade. “Is this a katana? How did it get here? We’re not anywhere near Neighpon. It makes no sense.” “I can feel it humming,” Grif said. “It’s not like Vigilance or Vengeance. They have their own songs, but this sword is actually humming along in time with me, if that makes sense.” “Like what, it was made for you? That….” he paused, and his eyes widened. “The dice,” he muttered. “You had two. What happened to the second one?” Grif opened his other hand to reveal the other die. “I already got the blessing. I’d rather not take a chance with a malediction right now.” He sheathed the blade with a dramatic flourish. He held the sword carefully, and made his way to a chair with bag and die clenched in the other hand. When he’d deposited the weapon, he turned his attention to the die, being careful to return it to its pouch, without letting it fall. Once he’d pulled the drawstrings shut, deposited it and the puzzle box into his bag. “We’re still talking to Hammer Strike about this,” Pensword stated adamantly. “Yeah.” Grif nodded as he tied the katana to his sword belt, sliding it between his other blades. “He’ll probably want a look at it, when we get back.” “You want me to come with?” Pensword asked. “Yeah. Come on. Let's go.” Grif looked at the startled Gryphons around them. “As you were,” he said in a stern tone, and they immediately snapped back to work. “And so, now we’re here,” Grif finished retelling the story, mostly to break the silence as Hammer Strike was still going over the sword. His attention was so focused, Grif wasn’t sure he’d heard anything. “This is such an odd job of soul binding,” Hammer Strike commented as he glanced at Grif for a moment, then back to the katana. “Magic dice aside, it’s an amazing blade, and it feels like it's trying to fight me when I just touch it, so yeah.” “So this sword will only work for me?” Grif asked. “Should, yeah,” Hammer Strike nodded. “Should I be worried?” Grif asked. “It’s tied to you, so it shouldn’t attack you, unless you undergo significant changes to your soul.” “And the other die?” Grif asked. “Probably works the same,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’d wager whatever comes out of it will be soulbound, too, if it follows the same pattern as this one.” “I think I’ll hold onto that then,” Grif noted. “So, as far as you can tell, there’s nothing wrong with the sword? No nasty surprises?” “Not for you,” Hammer Strike nodded. “Good to know. It dropped out of that weird red energy portal thing with a scream, so I was worried.” “It worried me, too,” Pensword piped in. “Screams like that usually mean bad things.” “I’d suspect a temporary separation of a segment of your soul would be quite painful. Thankfully, though, as far as I can tell, it returned it fully. It just sort of … made a copy to synchronize with?” “Well, that's comforting,” Grif said as he retrieved the sword, and sheathed it with a flourish. “It’s not quite the same as Vigilance and Vengeance, but it feels amazing in my hands.” “Well, you are kind of holding a familiar thing to you, since it’s a copy of your soul and all that.” Grif grinned. “I can’t wait to see what it does on the battlefield.” “Hopefully you’ll have fun with that.” “You okay? You sound … on edge. No pun intended.” “Several things. You also barged in at the time that I was working on something potentially unstable.” He gestured at the table behind them. A small drum barrel had been connected to a large nozzle. A port had been included on the side of the barrel, and a small antenna jutted out at the back with a thaumic crystal glowing at its end. “Is that a cannon?” Grif asked. “Better than a cannon, but not quite so insane.” He opened a side compartment to reveal a fire aspect crystal contained within a small chamber. “We’ll need to go topside, if you want me to show you how it works, but it uses a relay connected to the energy network I’ve placed on the ship, and converts the energy to whatever kind of aspect crystal is placed in here, allowing the user to channel it out into a basic elemental attack.” “So Circlet will be able to handle the targeting, thus freeing up numerous crewmen in the event of a battle?” Grif asked. “The mounted variants, yeah. This prototype is more for personnel to use, in case of mid to close range proximity on another airship.” “I’m guessing this is another modification the storm stone cores won’t be able to support?” Grif asked, noting Pensword’s drooling over the cannon. “These elemental cannons will be way too heavy of an energy drain.” Pensword continued to gaze longingly at the new weapon. “Heavy trooper weapons. Me like.” “Well looks like this floating fortress is going to be all the more secure,” Grif chuckled. “Imagine what the big cannons will look like,” Hammer Strike added as he cracked a smile of his own. Pensword continued to drool. “It’s kinda sad. In a world of ballistae and cannons, we’re going to have magic lasers,” Grif laughed. “Yamato,” Pensword sang. “We’re not naming every cannon Yamato,” Grif deadpanned. “But did you not notice the main cannons she had on her upper decks? The laser triple-A guns? She had more than just the Wave Motion Gun,” Pensword chirped back excitedly. “Pensword, this is my ship. Mine, not yours. You want to name every cannon on your own ship Yamato, that's your business, but not on this ship.” Pensword facehoofed. “I’m not asking for every cannon to be named Yamato, Grif. I was just imagining it firing off the lasers like the Yamato did in the anime.” “There are plenty more anime with laser cannons than Space Battleship Yamato,” Grif noted. “Well, if you’ll both excuse me, I need to continue work on this to ensure its stability, and then make different ammunition types,” Hammer Strike commented to the duo as he turned back towards the cannon. “Understood. And shall we continue this debate elsewhere, Grif? Because I don’t remember anything else with laser cannons,” the Pegasus replied as he tilted his head in confusion. “Yeah, we’ll get out of your mane, Hammer Strike.” Grif chuckled. “Just don’t hurt the ship. And Pensword, to disprove your previous statements, I have only this to say: Gundam, Gundam Wing, Gundam Seed, Gurren Lagann, Sonic X–.” Grif continued to list off names as the two left the workshop. Hammer Strike sighed as the door closed behind the duo, and adjusted his cravat, before looking inside the cannon once more, trying to take his mind off the presence watching over him. Three days after they’d left Monkeygascar, at noon, the Gantrithor made its final descent into the air dock near New Unity. The Revelry took up the closest slot, and the Nina lay in the final bay. The other two airships were currently moored nearby, since the docks weren’t built to handle that many ships at once. “Maybe we should think about starting a merchant fleet, until we get the airship navy properly worked out,” Grif commented to Pensword as they stood on the dock, while the cargo was unloaded. Pensword stroked his chin with a wing. “I could see that. We’d have a very heavily armed merchant fleet, but I am not giving up those three battleships,” he said. “Why do the Gryphons have a ship named Saint Mary?” “Mary Annabeth Shrewdclaw. She was a warrior, and a soothsayer in her later years. She held the northern fortress of Maragath for sixty-two years, and was sainted posthumously.” “Ah. I see.” He paused. “Grif, did I get the crew as well as the ship, or do I need to staff the ships myself?” He shuddered, and shook his head, before muttering, “I’ll ask about Maragath later, Matthew.” “It’s likely you’ll find a few remnants aboard each ship, those who grew attached to the ship itself, but you're definitely going to need more than a few dozen crusty old sailors.” “Then I guess it’s time to go recruiting around the shipyards and Thestral compounds.” Pensword groaned. “Also, can you explain about the fortress? Matthew is being very insistent, and I hate being poked with a swagger stick in my head.” “Not right now.” Grif shook his head. “Maybe when I get back.” “Where are you going?” “We’ll be dropping Bellacosa off at the Empire, and then taking a short trip to Ys to discuss personal business with Luna, followed by a trip to the fortress of the evokers.” “You think we could journey with you to Ys? I need to visit Mountainside Falls. I … I haven’t been there since we came back to the present.” “We won’t be able to take you back,” Grif warned. Pensword shrugged. “We’ll travel back to Ys. I’m sure Luna will come with.” “As long as you know.” Grif nodded. “We’ll be leaving on Friday.” “Who’s leaving where on Friday?” Vital yawned as he clopped up the pair. A faint blush shone on his cheeks through the fur, and his saddle bags were weighed down with the extra books he’d carried. “What’s up with the blush?” Pensword asked. Vital averted his eyes to stare at the other ships. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Pensword gave Vital a look, then turned to Grif. “Vital, if you were to say that to any other Pony, they’d think you and Trixie made it to another base, but….” He paused. “You haven’t gone too native, have you?” “... Too native? Pensword, what’re you talking about?” Pensword gave Vital a look. “Uh … well, when a mare really, really likes a stallion, they have … ways of enticing the male.” “... Do I even what to know what you’re implying? Because the way you’re talking, it sounds like mares use date rape drugs to get the stallions they want.” “Heat, Vital Spark. Either the real deal, or one chemically induced to mimic the same effects,” Pensword snapped, facehoofing. “And that really drives stallions to the point of overriding their reason?” Pensword just stared blankly at Vital. “At times, yes. I ... I can’t believe I am having this conversation with a fully grown stallion. I am literally having the talk with you, and you’re one of my best friends!” ”Hey, it’s not like I don’t understand the reproductive cycle. I just didn’t know about heat. Well … I didn’t think much about it, anyways. I guess I’ve just been lucky enough not to catch any mares in the middle of it.” “Guys, this may be a conversation meant for closed doors,” Grif noted. “Also, yes, Pensword, Vital Spark spent the night in Trixie’s room.” “Griff!” Vital Spark’s blush intensified. “I keep good surveillance on my ship,” the Gryphon said casually. Pensword seemed too fixated on Vital Spark’s naivete to register what Grif had just said. “Well, I guess we should give you the talk, then.” He sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Behind closed doors, of course.” “Last thing we need is half of Ponyville's single mare population knocking on the drawbridge for child support,” Grif chuckled. “Grif, not funny,” Vital deadpanned. “Or perhaps we should have Trixie claim him as her stallion?” Pensword asked with a teasing smile. “But yes, forewarned is forearmed.” “Vital, the only reason there aren't twice as many ponies as Gryphons on the planet is because of our shorter pregnancy periods. Trust me. More resolute stallions than you have had this problem in history.” Vital groaned. “Great. Does that mean rutting is a thing here, too?” “There are chemical suppressants and spells to mask it, but generally, yes. As I understand it, for Ponies, it is a thing.” Grif smiled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Trixie, though. I think she’d rather go for the heart first, and get the body with the package.” “Anyway, let’s hold off on this class until tonight,” Pensword quickly interjected, even as Vital’s horn began to hum. Vital huffed angrily as the blush in his cheeks intensified yet again. “Fine. We’ll talk later. Right now, I need to get as far away from a certain snide Gryphon as I can, before I do something stupid.” He made his way over to the gangplank, and stomped towards the dock. “If you need me, I’ll be at Clover’s.” “Guess it’s still a touchy subject.” Grif chuckled again. “That’s going to be one heck of a wedding.” “Well, he did have an eye on a certain fiery mare on probation,” Lunar Fang noted as she walked from around one of the boxes on deck. “So, I should plan for two, then?” Pensword asked. Vital’s scream of rage echoed up from below as a blanket of snow dropped all at once on the deck with a loud fwump.