//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: First Flight // Story: The Last Migration // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Starlight Glimmer stared off the deck of the Daughter of Wintergreen, her whole body shaking visibly. Being so close to a princess of Equestria, and what she’d done before, meant she had been exposed to her fair share of terrible things. In her past, she had inflicted some of that suffering. Her experiments with time travel and her vengeance against Twilight Sparkle still gave her nightmares. But for all that, she had never seen such naked barbarity. The griffon prince had been so kind, so courteous. He hadn’t wanted her to come to the arena. Unfortunately for him, Starlight Glimmer knew that the place a diplomat needed to be the most was the place nopony wanted her. She’d seen alright. Seen the ruler of this nation kill one of his colleagues over a disagreement. Granted, that death had probably saved Equestria from invasion. It had preserved the treaty, strengthened the rule of the bird who most wanted peace between them. The bird who could take the life of a helpless foe begging for mercy, then stand a few feet away and talk to Starlight as though they were about to sit down for tea. “I’ve seen that look before,” said Sure Heading from behind her, coming up to the railing a few feet away. The old sailor must’ve snuck up from below decks, because Starlight hadn’t seen anyone aboard besides the watchmen. She would’ve probably gone to her cabin if she had thought she might be interrupted. Looking over the railing into the griffon city wasn’t that important. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well up there. The griffons plan on breaking the treaty?” “Well… no,” Starlight Glimmer admitted, glaring down at the deck. “I almost wish they were. At least then Equestria would be fighting the bad ponies, instead of letting them in.” “I don’t understand,” Heading said, in mock ignorance. “If they aren’t breaking the treaty, what makes them bad?” She looked away from the spires of Scythia. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you Heading?” At his nod, she continued. “Have you ever been to the arena?” He shook his head. “I’ve seen many things in my sailing, Miss Starlight. But some things a stallion just isn’t meant to see. I can dine with a griffon, work on the same boat as a griffon, but I can’t enjoy what he enjoys.” He chuckled, looking rueful. “And I suppose their birds wouldn’t care much for what I like, either. I don’t know how I’d make it through the long voyages without a good book, and not a stallion among ‘em could tell you a vowel from a consonant.” “Really?” Starlight’s eyes widened as she contemplated the absurdity of what that implied. “Even the emperor?” “Yep,” Heading said. “They’ve got some mighty strange ideas about what mares and stallions ought to do. They’re not like ponies, where everypony does what makes ‘em feel best. Real firm lines, and exacting standards for every bird to follow. About… everything, really.” This might’ve been a subject of great academic interest to Starlight Glimmer a day before, given her own experience trying to structure the roles in a society. Of course, her own attempt had taken natural pony inclinations to the extreme, not turned completely the other direction. But she couldn’t be bothered to care about that now. Not after what she’d seen. “The emperor had to kill one of the other clan lords. Bird named Gabriel. In front of a crowd of fifty thousand. Was the most gruesome thing I’ve ever seen.” Heading nodded, though he didn’t seem to share her distress. “Well, I’m glad somepony finally got the bastard. That rotten sack of feathers has had that coming for a long time. Must’ve been a right disturbing thing to see, though.” He looked up. “He was calling for invasion, I bet you anything.” “Yeah,” Starlight said, a little taken aback by his reaction. “You’ve heard of him?” “Well, obviously,” he said, apparently sharing her surprise. “There are only five clan lords, Miss Starlight. And it’s vitally important you know whose territory you’re flying into. Gabriel was the worst of the worst, House Vengeance. If a boat flew in that wasn’t all birds, you can bet the whole crew would be wearing slave collars by next moonrise, and they’d never fly out again. And I heard he did… things… to some of the mares he captured. Not things right for explaining to fancy ladies like yourself. Point is, damn the old bird to Tartarus. If I get the chance, I’ll shake the emperor’s hoof myself.” “I miss Equestria,” Starlight Glimmer eventually said, her voice low. “Things made sense in Equestria. But what will it be like once we let all these griffons in?” “I don’t know, Miss Starlight,” Heading said. “That’s a might above what I’m paid to think about. But what do you think Equestria would be like if we don’t? What kind of ponies would we have to be to leave them here to burn and starve and suffocate?” She had no answer. Starlight Glimmer didn’t write to Celestia that night. Starlight Glimmer had watched Gaius pay a terrible price for peace—higher than Celestia would’ve paid. Gabriel’s death apparently worked, at least from what she saw in the city. Starlight Glimmer began her appointed task—supervising the preparations for evacuation to Equestria. She was under no illusions about the danger she was in at any moment. If the griffons intended a betrayal, she was certainly the first one they would target. Though from what she’d seen of Gaius, it seemed quite hard to believe that he would’ve gone to all the trouble of the duel just to convince her that his nation was obeying Equestria’s terms. The duel remained a topic of conversation in every part of the city she visited for weeks, and it always seemed like different birds. Equestria had one fear chief among all others: gunpowder. Where pony ships relied on magical weapons, the Accipion empire had found a substitute in chemistry. One that Celestia feared might be turned to invade them from the interior once the griffons arrived. For the next few weeks, Starlight traveled around the empire aboard one such airship, captained by the emperor’s son and bristling with guns and crew both armed with gunpowder. She visited Accipion ports big and small, selecting ships at random to inspect. At first she was surprised that her random inspections proved they were indeed removing their gunpowder weapons—but over time, she began to expect it. Princess Celestia had said griffons cared about their word, or at least Gaius did. The longer she remained among them, the more convinced of that fact Starlight became. Accipio was a gigantic place—larger than Equestria by tens. Yet most of it was empty. Long stretches of desolation broken by an occasional plantation or minor city. She wondered as they flew what it might’ve been like to pass through the city during the height of Accipio’s power, when it had been a force to challenge Equestria, when it had swept across the zebra tribes and then the minotaur princedom without slowing. As she visited the cities of modern Accipio, she did not get the sense that she was some primitive visiting an overwhelming power beyond her understanding. It felt, rather, like she was visiting a pony in a desolate hospice somewhere, dying of an untreatable disease. Everypony knew about the eruption, from the richest griffon adorned with gold all the way down to the meekest young slave. Some thought the whole world would end, some thought the emperor was overreacting and they would all be fine. But all seemed weighed down. The time flew by. Starlight returned to Scythia, where all griffon ships would be required to pass on their way through to Equestria. She would be the gatekeeper in that regard as well, at least at first. The initial waves of griffon ships heavily laden with supplies for their new settlements would be leaving a full month before the eruption—if the winds were good, they would be able to dump their cargo in Equestria in time to return for refugees. If not, many more birds would die. It was still a grand sight to stand in the harbor and look out at so many airships, each one larger than anything in Equestria’s navy. Each one so full of food and raw materials that they looked like they could barely stay airborne. Starlight had enlisted every willing pony on the Daughter of Wintergreen, and it had still taken nearly two days to inspect them all. She stood beside Gaius and his son atop a raised platform near the edge of the docks, looking out on a crowd of thousands of birds. Well, birds and every other kind of creature that lived here. It was nice to be back in the capital, where they didn’t seem to be so weighed down. There was a little more hope to these. “We send the first seeds of our survival to be planted,” Gaius shouted. He was wearing the same strange armor he had fought in during the duel—the armor that made him invisible to Starlight’s magical senses. Though this time the terrible helmet did not cover his face, and he had to bellow out into the crowd. “Our first scouts have already returned from Equestria—they speak of a land that the ponies have neglected. We will make it bloom, despite the challenges. We will endure this war as we have endured so many others. When the flames have cleared, when the lava has cooled, we will return stronger than ever before to reclaim the land that was once ours, and build an even better Accipio. But until that time comes, we require the labor of every bird, every citizen, and every slave in my hearing. We continue to work to ensure that there will be a place for every one of you. Continue your labor, for all our lives depend on it.” He raised a wing just slightly, and one of his guards blew into a whistle. The whole line of great airships immediately began to lift off from their moorings. Strange grinding sounds emerged from their unusual engines, and clouds of black smoke began to pour from behind them. Griffons had their own equivalent of the thaumic impeller, though breathing the air near it could nauseate even a sailor accustomed to air travel. Fortunately for the ceremony, a breeze was blowing away from the dock, carrying the disgusting smoke with it. Cheers and stomping rang up from all around them, and most of it sounded genuine to Starlight. Gaius was among his most loyal citizens, after all. Those most committed to a peaceful new life in Equestria. They watched until the zeppelins began to fade into the distance, and only then did the crowd began to disperse. “Well, Equestrian overseer.” Emperor Gaius turned on her, smiling somewhat smugly. “Did you expect this moment would come? Tell me honestly—when you arrived in Accipio, you thought we would be plotting invasion, didn’t you? You thought we would try to kill you.” “The… thought did cross my mind,” Starlight said, not looking away. It was the truth, after all. That was what griffons wanted. “But I’m very happy to be wrong. I don’t think Princess Celestia doubted this would happen, though. She always seems to see the best in ponies.” She coughed, looking away awkwardly. “And griffons too, I mean.” “The real question is whether any birds try to run the blockade,” Velar said from beside her, smiling that infuriating smile of his. Why did he always have to look so damn smug? Starlight turned slightly away from him out of spite. “And whether any of the great clans try to stay behind. We can’t ignore the rumors, Father.” “We aren’t ignoring them.” Gaius sounded sad, subdued. “But we don’t have the resources to pull them into line. If Vengeance or Vanquish wish to remain behind, we can’t spare the ships to force them. We would only damn more of our own to die for every ship in our navy that did not return.” He looked back to Starlight Glimmer. “With respect, Equestrian, I think the days of your personal inspection of every ship cannot continue. We must increase the number…” He glanced back at his wife. “What did you say, Guinevere?” “An order of magnitude,” she supplied, not looking up from her pad of notes. She always seemed to have it, no matter the occasion. Always working on something, though she had barely said a dozen words to Starlight in all the time she’d been here. Starlight still didn’t know why. “Yes, that.” Gaius made a vague gesture with one claw, apparently not comprehending what his wife had just said. “If you insist on scouring every hull for weapons you will not find, many of my birds will die.” Starlight Glimmer was ready for this. “I am… I understand, Emperor. I’ve already thought about it, actually. I was thinking—instead of an exhaustive search, I think a random examination would be better. Perhaps if I was provided with the list of ships departing on a given day, I could choose only a few to have inspected—though I would not inform anypony of the number, or the name of the ships until that moment, obviously.” “She continues to insult us,” Guinevere muttered, turning away from them and spreading her wings. “I don’t know why you tolerate it, husband.” She took to the air, flying off in a huff. “Those terms are agreeable,” Gaius said, nodding to his son. “Velar will see to anything you ask, as usual.” Great, Starlight thought. Couldn’t be anypony else. “Delightful,” Velar said. “You’re going to stay bored, I’m afraid. We aren’t hiding anything.” “You aren’t,” she agreed. “But Equestria can’t be sure about every griffon. We won’t gamble our future any more than you will.” Velar only shrugged. “Well then. I’ll see you tomorrow, Starlight. Unless you’d rather join me for dinner tonight.” “No.” She tried to glare him to death. Without magic behind it, it didn’t work.