Extended Holiday
Ch 131: One Mind
Act 20
Pensword left the museum three hours after it had closed for its shift to night staff. His cheek fur was still wet from the tears, and while he could have flown easily back to his balcony, he felt more inclined to walk. The weight of the day’s activities and the emotional output had taken their toll. His head hung low, his wings drooping as he shuffled through the courtyard and into the town. Occasionally, he mustered enough will to look up at the architecture. Sometimes stone arches would be standing over roads, each bearing the emblem of a different tribe’s animal. Pensword chuckled. “So, they have districts here, too.”
Eventually, he made his way to the heart of the city. Lights burned merrily in the windows, and the street lamps shone with a welcoming warmth. His nose twitched a moment, and he perked his ears curiously as he took a deeper breath. “Gas?” he asked, shocked, before a familiar excitement bubbled to the surface. His lips pulled up into a smile. He could just picture the Pegasi and Thestrals flying up to the tiny hinged panes to ignite the lamps each night with a long pole. The smile proved energizing, and his ears swiveled as they picked up the sound of a fountain burbling merrily.
Pensword followed the sound, which soon gave way to loud splashes and playful giggles. The fountain was a magnificent structure, closer to a water park attraction than a decoration. Foals laughed as they charged through the basin, throwing water every which way with wing, hoof, and horn as their parents looked on with indulgent smiles. A set of carefully carved steps rose from the makeshift pool to reach into the street. A veritable cascade of water poured down from a perfectly rendered titanic dragon’s maw. Its broad back lay against the side of a nearby building, while its scaly body curled around the fountain edge, leaving the lower portion of the tail to become the basin’s lip. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
“Well, old friend, I didn’t expect to see you all the way out here.” Pensword’s smile widened as he looked over the amorous couples. A few of the colts seemed to protest a bit too much over some of the foals’ behavior for it to be entirely genuine. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the shrieks of a mother as the foals ganged up on her. That was a sensation he knew only too well. In a matter of seconds, the fight had devolved into an adult on foal free-for-all. The laughter proved a cheerful companion, and he nodded courteously to those that noticed him, before moving on.
He passed a traveler's inn with fresh pelts drying on racks outside, while the scent of cooking meat wafted from a communal kitchen. His stomach growled, and he realized it had been some time since he’d last eaten. The sound of a Unicorn’s magic sounded through the open windows. It seemed a few late diners were still enjoying their evening meal.
Eventually, he happened on another enclosed compound similar to the way the museum had been set up. The tall wrought iron gate yawned open before him. A cobblestone path stretched beyond along a grassy yard. A white marble manticore fountain roared as water streamed from its mouth and stinger. A plaque had been mounted to the lip of the basin, reading:
May our homes be guarded with the roar of a manticore.
Confused, but intrigued, Pensword continued his exploration. The building rose high above the air, and a great metal disc glowed brightly as it caught the rays from the sunset. He turned aside to take in the rest of the yard, only to gape as he stared at the thickest grove of trees he’d ever seen. How had he not noticed it? The sound of the night owl hooted as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the stars began to emerge. He stepped closer, and a fox darted out from under the cover of a bush to run deeper into the grove. He followed the path further, and soon encountered a stream. He followed it to a statue of a great viper curled around a nest of stone eggs. Water flowed from its maw, and dripped from its fangs to start the flow that led into the trees. A small bridge branched over the stream, and Pensword passed in wonder, even as he fought against his fatigue.
The path wound deeper, leading further around the edge of the grove. Pensword began to pant from his exertions. Just how big around was this grove of trees in the first place? Eventually, he came up on a statue of a large mother bear rearing on her hind legs. Expertly crafted benches surrounded her, with legs shaped like paws and either end shaped like a head or tail. Truly, it was a mother surrounded by her sleeping cubs, and hse would protect them at all costs.
“‘Protect the young, for they are the future,’” he whispered hoarsely as he laid a hoof against the statue. “You taught me that a long time ago, Gramma.” He turned, and noticed one cub that differed from the rest. It lay curled at the mother bear’s paws, its eyes closed and a terrible marring on its otherwise perfectly sculpted back. This cub was no mere bench. It was the reason for the great bear’s fierce expression.
As pensword pondered this, he recalled the snake’s fangs and the eggs that lay peacefully in its nest. He’d thought it may have been the result of age, but … now, as he thought back, he remembered the many cracks that ran through one of the oblong stone orbs. “Loss,” he said. “Of course.” He felt the tears rise anew. “We always remember the ones we’ve lost, to better serve the future.” He perched on one of the benches, and let the tears fall. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there. Time passed in a sort of fog. Fatigue demanded he sleep, but his will demanded he remain awake. This was a sacred place of meditation, not a bedroom. Finally, he heard the distinctive vibration of a throat clearing. His head whipped up immediately.
Fox Feather stared at him with probing eyes as she cocked her head. As she had on occasion before, she wore the traditional fox furs in honor of her name. Lunar Fang stood by her, wrapped in her ursa minor cloak. Luna looked down from behind the pair in her full ursa armor. Meteor impact sat negligently on her back as she smiled gently at him.
“We thought you might have found this place. This is the entrance to the Forest of Loss and Protection.”
Pensword tilted his head in confusion.
Luna shrugged. “I didn’t name it. These lands were declared off limits by Celestia after my banishment, and the forest was planted. Many Thestrals moved willingly, and each tribe placed a guardian statue. As you may have surmised, each statue is designed to portray a symbol of protection and of loss. These symbols represent the purpose of this city: to protect the innocent, and to remember those who are lost, so that we may learn from them. Many a Pony has reflected on the tale of my fall, the consequences thereof, and the tale of your disappearance.
Lunar Fang walked forward, and nuzzled her husband comfortingly. Fox Feather repeated the motion on his other side.
Pensword sighed as he looked back to the building. Its disk now shone a bright silver, thanks to the light of the moon. Its windows burned brightly, and the familiar scent of a great bonfire slowly wafted towards them on the night breeze. “This is the Grand Lodge, isn’t it?”
Luna nodded. “That is correct, We had meetings this morning. We felt it would be best to show you the culture, and to see for myself how my Thestrals were treated a thousand years ago.” A brief shadow passed over her face, but then it was gone. “Come, we have much to see.”
“Can I see the other statues first?” Pensword asked.
Lunar Fang chuckled. “Of course. Did you really think we were going to let you stop at the bear? You’re a new clan leader, after all. It’s only right that you pay your respects.”
Pensword smiled, and rose back to his hooves. His legs were stiff, and his wings sore, but he wasn’t about to give up now. He pressed forward slowly as the mares followed behind. Luna eyed the commander pensively as they continued. She appeared to be pondering something for a time. Then she broke into a smile, nodded, and all was as it had been before.
The next statue showed a fox snarling and snapping at some unknown threat, while her kits stood huddled in the mouth of a stone cave. A single cub lay on its side outside the cave, while another cub in the cave mouth snarled with its mother.
Pensword turned back to Luna. “I have seen a defiant kit and a raging bear. What are they for?”
“To remember you,” Luna answered. “You are the last son of this land. You were the one that earned this place, and dedicated it as a refuge for Thestrals, a place of peace. Although you were younger than even Hurricane when he took on the rank of Commander, you fought for this land. And so you are represented as the young kit here. However, you also raged at the loss of your family, your home. And so you came to represent the great bear, fighting for that which it held so dear.”
Pensword didn’t trust himself to speak, so he continued down the path, instead. Next came the statue of the wolf. This one was different. It showed both a father wolf and a mother wolf with their cubs huddling around the back of a cave, but one young wolf snarled by the mother’s side, while another cub lay dead at the father’s paws.
The lion followed. It sat on its haunches before a stone circle with a constant flame burning in its center. The statue’s eyes peered into the night, as though on guard. A series of lionesses stood on either side of the pride leader, but unlike the other statues, Pensword could see no signs of a dead cub or any similar imagery. A single Thestral approached from the shadows, garbed in the pelt of a lion, and bearing both a ceremonial tomahawk and a dagger. The mare needed no introduction. Pensword knew her tribe.
“The Lion Tribe, who took over the Fortress, refused to follow the trail their fellows led. And so they built this. As the lion watched over the flame, so these Thestrals would keep the flame of history lit, to reveal truth, and dispel falsehood as they abide the day that history would be made flesh once more,” the guard intoned.
Pensword nodded his thanks, and they moved on.
The last statue was so large, they had no choice but to pass under its mighty wings. Its long neck and bulky torso reminded Pensword of a Charizard, albeit without the flame on its tail. A nest of broken eggs lay on the ground nearby. The path stretched on, leading to a stone hole entrance into the building with a small dragon tail sticking out of it. Pensword looked inquiringly to Luna.
“The Dragon clan swore that if war came to this land, those who lived upon the land would fight to the last mare, to give the others time to flee. No pony knows what they would have done with the foals, but many think that those old enough to fight would have fought.” Luna looked to the dragon’s snarling maw as they passed under it. A sudden gout of flames burst forth. “It also was one of the first places to have gas fire, after the first head was destroyed in a storm. The second item to receive the treatment is the eternal flame. The guards still stand watch, but they are ceremonial.”
“But still armed,” Pensword pointed out.
Luna grinned. “Let me show you the foals’ training yard, where those of Thestral blood can train with their weapons in the open, without fear of the outside trying to interfere. You might even honor them with a demonstration or go on a small hunt later, if you feel up to it.” Her horn glowed, and she levitated a cloak and Pensword’s ursa cape. “We have all night to spend with our kind to see how and what has changed, but first, we need to have thee in your robes of office.”
Pensword smiled. “Lead the way, High Chieftess.” He began to don the gear. “Though I do have a question. Why is Fox Feather wearing fur and a tomahawk?”
Luna smiled, and winked. “Because I took her before the Fox tribal leader, who just happens to be here on a trip to visit her grandfoals. After presenting Fox Feather with the High Chieftess’ blessing and a proper assessment on her hunting skills, it was agreed that Fox Feather will not simply be considered an honored wife to a Thestral Clan leader, but a true member of the tribes by adoption and ceremony. While she may have the fur of a Pegasus, like thee, she is deemed to have the soul of a Thestral. Luna says your spouse might just grow some ear tufts, if she has anything to say about it.”
The harvesting of the books and scrolls from the library went surprisingly well following the events of the first day. Over the next two days, the small group of Gryphons had found and sorted every potentially useful piece of information they could find. They also found a workshop specifically tailored for making foci. The parts had remained completely undisturbed and perfectly organized. Needless to say, Avalon had been positively ecstatic.
They’d also located several magical artifacts, which they crated and set carefully in the Gantrithor’s hold. By the end of the second day, the fortress looked very empty, indeed. Massive rooms had been left occupied only by little more than dust and shelves. As the sun set, the group found themselves around a hearty fire, while Grif roasted a few fat snakes he’d hunted earlier. Avalon sat nearby, scanning through one of her prizes with an eager light in her eyes. Tazeer chirped happily nearby from his place on a blanket. Shrial was giving Gilda lessons in current weapon maintenance. Meanwhile, Athena and Gentle Wing were quite happy crawling all over Gilgamesh. The two had been instantly fascinated with the massive Gryphon, and his normally nervous nature seemed to calm as the twins continued to explore.
“You’ve never been around cubs before?” Grif asked as he worked.
“Never. At least, from what I remember.” Gilgamesh smiled softly.
“They seem to like you. I hope they’re not bothering you.” During their short time together, Grif had developed a friendly respect for the enigma. Once he’d gotten past the shell, Gilgamesh had proven himself to be an interesting character.
“No, not at all,” Gilgamesh replied, shifting his balance for the girls as one of them swung from his neck, while the other walked along his wing.
“Tomorrow, we’ll pack up whatever’s left, and then head out. You nervous?” Grif gave one of the snakes a few pokes to check the consistency.
“A little bit, but … I don’t know. I feel more comfortable about it now, I guess.”
“Have the two of you been able to figure out how his magic works?” Grif asked Avalon.
“Not even close. We’re going to have to run a lot of tests, before we can get a proper diagnosis,” she said absently as she flicked the page in her tome and continued reading. “Fascinating….”
“Just remember, you come across anything morally questionable, we burn the pages.” Grif chuckled. “And his talons? Any idea why they're so different?”
“They appear to channel his magic almost like a focus would. It’s difficult to explain, but if I had to theorize, it’s possible that could be the reason why Gilgamesh is capable of casting magic in the first place. He could very well be the result of an experiment the evokers executed long ago, though if he is, we haven’t found any records pertaining to him yet.”
Grif shook his head. “Wouldn’t explain his age, though. He’d have to be a thousand years old, at least, and he looks younger than I am.”
“Perhaps a mutation of some kind, or a blessing from the Winds, then?”
“Maybe. You’d think they’d have warned us, though.” Grif shrugged. “Clover will find out, I’m sure.” He turned back to Gilgamesh. “How do you take your meat?”
“I don’t know?”
The room went silent for a moment. Even Athena and Gentle Wing seemed a bit stunned. “You don’t know how you like your meat?” Grif clarified.
“I-I haven’t really had anything to eat since I woke up….”
“Well then,” Grif cut a large section of one of the snakes off, “let's start you off with with this, and see how you like it. If it’s too raw, you can let me know, and I’ll heat it up a little longer.” He handed the Gryphon the skewered snake.
Gilgamesh looked with uncertainty at the piece of reptile. After a moment, he brought it close, and took a bite. He nodded after swallowing. “It tastes good.”
“Gilgamesh, my friend, … we’ve got a long way to go,” Grif sighed as he served the snake to the others.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Don’t worry about it for now.” He turned his attention to Shrial as he handed her a section of snake. “How goes the lesson?”
“She’s still a little too soft on her left side. Her fighting’s improved, though. I assume in part thanks to your … sparring sessions.”
Gilda blushed as she looked away from the fire, and started carving patterns in the ground.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Gilda. Shrial’s just jealous, because she never saw that much gain from our ‘sparring,’” Grif teased.
“Oh, you want to talk about our sparring, hmm? Should I mention some of our moves from our wedding night, then? I’m sure the ladies would be very interested to hear about that.”
Meanwhile, Gilgamesh sat with a blank expression on his face as he looked to everyone present. “What are you all talking about?”
“Uh….” Grif chuckled awkwardly. “You’ll find out when you're older.”
Gilgamesh blinked a few times, before looking down. “How old am I, even?” he muttered as he scratched the side of his head..
“... Yes,” Grif answered as he bit into his chunk of snake.
“In other words, don’t worry about either of those,” Avalon said.
The big Gryphon was silent for a time as he weighed the wisdom of their words. “Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll trust you.”
Five miles out from New Unity, deep within the Everfree, the scouts finally caught up with their quarry. They had followed the trail for days across rocky and wet terrain, through rivers and streams. They’d lost it several times, and nearly gave up, before somehow stumbling on it again.
“I counted seventeen thousand in the clearing, and another three thousand in the cave. What about you, Star Crusher?” the verdant-green Pegasus stallion asked as he looked to his Thestral companion.
“Another twenty in the clearing across the ridge, Emerald Haze. They’re big buckers. Have to be fifteen hooves for some of them. They’ve got thicker armor and actual weapons spread out between them.”
“Together with the fifteen across the river, that makes fifty-five thousand in all,” a candy-cane-colored Unicorn mare spoke as she materialized seemingly from nowhere. “Not as many as the last attack, but these seem to be more substantial in muscle and armor plating. Intellect, too, if those were really commanders I was able to pick out. They’re moving smarter, more tactically than last time. We need to get a repor–look out!” She tackled Emerald Haze as a bolt of green magic zoomed through the area his head had been a second earlier. The buzzing of wings echoed from the bushes. “Damn. They spotted us! We need to get back to Unity now!”
They turned to find their retreat cut off by two Changelings closing in on them. Just as they went for their weapons, Gryphon talons reached from the bushes, and snapped the Changelings’ necks. The snow-covered bushes seemed to move forward. One of the taloned hands moved some of the ‘foliage’ aside to reveal a Gryphon’s face. “Grif figured following you might give these new ghillie suits a try.” Arrows suddenly shot from the foliage, skewering the first few Changelings to exit the bushline. “We’ll hold here. There’s a squad of Rohirrim about ten yards left of this position. They’ll signal when you get there, and cover your retreat. We’ll retreat then.”
“And if you don’t make it?” Star Crusher asked.
The Gryphon narrowed his gaze. “Then we don’t make it. Unity needs this warning, and so does the compound. Go now!” Then he winked. “Gonna take more than a few bugs to take us down.”
The scouts nodded as they retreated, while the Gryphons continued firing into the oncoming swarm. They needed to get to Hammer Strike. As of this moment, Unity was going to war.
Grif woke up sweating. It was still the night of their second day. Everyone else was sleeping soundly around the dying fire embers of the fire they’d built in a spare room, but the Avatar of Winds found himself waking for what felt like the fiftieth time that night.
“Whats going on?” he grumbled as he extracted himself carefully from the pile that was his wives and cubs surrounding him. He exited the room carefully, being sure to not let his talons click against the stone. Seeing as his body wouldn’t let him sleep, he figured he might as well work out some of the energy by taking a walk. He followed the halls for a while, trying to think of what might be keeping him awake. Despite his connection to the place, he’d slept perfectly soundly the night before, so what could be causing the discrepancy?
He was about to turn around and head back to the room, when something caught his attention. There, on the stone floor, a gray feather glinted in the dim light. It was too short and fat to be one of his. He bent down to pick it up, only for it to vanish. When he looked farther down the hall, it had reappeared just a few feet away. Grif raised a curious brow as he approached the feather, and tried to pick it up again. Once more, it vanished.
“Okay, this is getting weird,” Grif noted to himself as he moved forward. This time, he didn’t bother to try and pick it up. The moment he got too close, the feather vanished and reappeared. And so it kept going again and again, and he kept following it down the hall, down the stairs, out into the courtyard, into the tower, down the stairs, lower, past the dungeon, lower still. Soon Grif found himself standing outside a patch of wall that had swung aside to reveal a cool, dark passage.
He could just make out the murals that stood within, and his eyes widened as he realized exactly where he now stood. This was an entrance to Grask’s tomb. He remembered how Shrial had described the place, but she’d never mentioned this particular door before. There certainly had never been a record of it on any of the maps, nor had it been discovered on previous excursions when scanning for any hidden chambers. A powerful magic must have kept it concealed, and yet, here it was, unsealed, and awaiting his arrival.
The entrance wasn’t the only thing waiting. Rather than the ghost of his predecessor he’d been expecting, a different creature stood before him. While she possessed wings, her form was much more feline in nature. Stone-gray fur covered her from head to toe, with smaller dainty paws on both her forelegs and hind legs. Her tail whipped back and forth, much like a cat’s would when judging someone. She wore a headdress of white linen with a golden ring around her brow. Strings of beads and gemstones hung from the headpiece, framing her face.
“A ... a Sphinx?” Grif found himself asking in shock.
The creature didn’t deign to answer, and turned instead to enter the tomb, beckoning with a wing as she passed through the portal.
Against his better judgement, Grif chose to follow her, and the two passed down the hall approaching the main tomb. Halfway down, she approached the wall, and pressed her paw against it. A hidden door swung open with creaks and shrieks of protest from unoiled hinges. She entered without a word. Grif stopped for a moment at this ominous omen, but once again went against his better judgement, and darted through as the door started to close.
A cramped narrow hallway greeted him, and even with his acute eyesight, he could barely make out anything as he was forced to simply go forward. After a hundred feet, the hallway exited into a large square chamber. There was no treasure here, no weapons, no scrolls, no books.
A raised central platform stood there, supporting a black marble sarcophagus depicting a female Sphinx. The markings indicated her to be a of high standing, and some kind of prophet. A raised dais stood beside the sarcophagus, holding a single stone tablet that had been carved in old Gryphic. A large basin of oil stood nearby. Searching his person, Grif was able to find a piece of flint. Then he used a stone from the floor to spark the flint, and ignite the basin. The room erupted with light as the flame caught, illuminating much of the room and the tablet itself.
Grif stared at the tablet as he struggled to translate the ancient characters. A strange sensation filled him as he worked to understand the record. Something about the words seemed important, and he was so wrapped up in translating it that he almost didn’t pick up the voice as the apparition spoke for the first time. It held an ethereal dual-toned quality that sounded almost melodic as she spoke. At first, he couldn’t understand her, but the longer she spoke, the more he began to make it out, as though she were speaking New Gryphic, Equish, or even English.
“I am Shiara, the Gray One. I was the last prophet born before our peoples divided. Hear my last vision, Avatar. Hear, and remember:
Upon the planet Equis, where might and magic reign,
The dark one sits in slumber, bound fast by seal and chain.
All cast by dark one’s brothers for actions foul and fair,
and deep within this prison, Fifth stirs and slumbers there.
Fifth preys upon the strong to inflict pain upon the weak.
Fifth always seeks to tempt the one through whom its siblings speak.
But if the one should free Fifth’s soul, despite the vengeful odds,
then with that one will truly come the twilight of the gods.”
She repeated the words twice more as she lifted the tablet from the dais, and gave it to Grif. “Heed my vision, Avatar. Heed, and remember words as old as an age.” Grif took hold of the tablet, and the flames snuffed out as the shadows of the tomb consumed him.
Grif bolted awake, panting heavily as he rose upright, disturbing his three wives.
Gilda glared at her new husband with beady, puffy eyes. “What’s the big idea?” she grumbled.
“It was … it was just a dream,” Grif panted. “I … I saw a tomb, some kind of prophecy about the Black Gale.”
Gilda hissed, and spat at a corner.
“What’s this about a gale?” Avalon yawned as she rubbed her eyes, blinking blearily at the dull embers from the fire.
“Not agale, Avalon, thegale. The very incarnation of death, destruction, and senseless killing. You know what he means,” Shrial snapped. Being the warrior that she was, she had been the swiftest to come to full awareness.
“I was in a tomb,” Grif said. “There was a ghost there, a Sphinx. She told me a prophecy, and then gave me a tablet.”
“And what was on the tablet?” Avalon asked as she stared intently at her husband. “Tell me everything,” she insisted as she began sorting through her pack, pulling out various scrolls and tomes, before shaking her head, and tossing them back in. As she moved, something grated on the stone beneath them. When they looked, they found a stone tablet that most definitely had not been there before.
“Looks like I won’t have to tell you anything,” Grif said as he picked the tablet up. It only took him a few seconds to verify it as the one from his dream.
“... Astral storage,” Avalon gaped. “The Evokers theorized the Sphinxes had developed an art to take objects with them into the afterlife. I guess this is proof. The magic surrounding it certainly isn’t from this plane,” she said as she ran her focus along its surface.
“Avalon, it’s a prophecy about the twilight of the gods.” Grif’s face was grave. “And one who will release the gale.”
“And your point is…?”
“We could be talking about the death of the Winds here.”
“And you’re expecting it to come true just days after you’re given the record?”
“You're being incredibly cold right now, Avalon,” Grif commented.
“Practical, Grif. Practical. Seeing as you’re the Winds’ representative here, I’m pretty sure they can offer you the guidance you need. And if not, then we’ll come up with a plan B. We always do. That, and it’s very late, and we could all use a good night’s sleep after the sudden wake-up call you gave us.”
Grif sighed as he rubbed his eyes. “Maybe you’re right, but I still think you should think about the consequences a little more. Living for so long without the Winds here has nearly destroyed us. Could we really survive as a people without them at all?” He gave a yawn. “But I guess we can sleep on that.”
“Now there is wisdom.” Avalon smiled as she kissed her husband on the cheek. “Now get in here, Grif. We want our bedwarmer back,” she teased.
Shrial couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that, I can agree with.”
And with that, the group snuggled in. Problems could always be looked at tomorrow. Gilda smiled as the twins wiggled their way over to her, and snuggled up to her fur. The idea of being a mother and a wife still scared her, but she had to admit, the benefits so far weren’t too bad. She pulled the two close, then leaned up against Grif. A calm sleep followed soon after.
The sun was just rising on the third day of Pensword’s visit. He lay atop a cloud looking down over the sprawling valley below. The shadows had just begun to flee, and he couldn’t help but marvel as the light stretched over the landscape. And then it finally touched the city, and Pensword gasped. The polished white stones around the buildings’ foundations cast their walls in a brilliant halo. Early morning traffic had already begun. A pair of gryphons passed by a few Ponies, then took a seat on the benches near the dragon fountain. A Minotaur bull stared at the the communal fountain, where coins glittered beneath the sun’s reflection on the water. A large pillar towered from its center in tribute to Mountainside Falls, right down to the names of the citizens and the symbols of adoption.
Pensword couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the scale model he’d seen in the museum. The dream clan had gone so far as to adopt those who had died, and offered last rights in collaboration with the authorities of various other church authorities. The statue of an Earth Pony mare stared with piercing gaze to the west. A simulacrum of a younger Pensword stared off towards Filly De Ys. Lastly, Princess Luna looked regally towards the east to lead into the future.
A flash of red drew his attention to the grass surrounding the buildings and the plains beyond. Even after seeing it for so many days, he still marveled at how Equestria had managed to replicate an Earth poppy so well. And then, to top it all off, it seemed that this stretch of land was the only location in all of Equestria where the flower could grow. Any other attempts to grow them away from the mountains had failed. The bloom always died, and any shoots of seeds planted would only survive a short while, before they withered away. The museum had taught him the income from selling a certain amount of the poppies each year had helped to fund and maintain much of the projects and monuments in the town.
And yet, while the flower remained prolific in the valley, he’d never once seen a single person wearing the blossom. Could it be they had forgotten the old tradition? Pensword shook his head. That wasn’t right. He would reintroduce the custom. After all, what was one more tradition in a town dedicated to remembrance?
“Hey!” a voice barked, shattering Pensword’s musings. A guard flapped up to the cloud, his face dark as a storm cloud. “You can–.” The guard choked on his words as his eyes widened. “C–commander,” he gasped. He cleared his throat nervously. “Ca–carry on. Sorry I disturbed you.”
“That’s okay. I should be down there, traveling the paths.”
“Uh … that is,” The guard stammered, causing Pensword to frown.
“Where’s your military bearing, Cadet?” the commander chided.
The guard shook his head, and sputtered, then snapped to attention. “I’ll get you a two guard detail to take you around the grounds, Sir. You can go anywhere here, after all. They’re your lands.”
Pensword smiled weakly, then nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, Sir.”
Pensword opened his wings, and took flight. bursting the cloud apart with a single buck at the same time, before gliding gently towards the ground. In a matter of minutes, he was flanked by the first guard and one of his fellows. He landed at the old city hall, where a stone slab had been laid out front with an etching of how the original hall had looked before it had been destroyed. Closer inspection revealed a plaque explaining how the stone had been hauled from the local quarry to be used here. He closed his eyes, and let himself walk down the paths of memory. His hooves crunched the gravel as the ghostly laughter of foals flitting through the marketplace, while the adults worked their trades echoed through his ears.
The sounds all stopped when he noticed the sunlight suddenly blocked. He snapped his eyes open to see a bulky, elderly gray Gryphon gawking with wide eyes. Gravel sprayed in the Gryphon’s rush to the ground. His beak was covered by a cloud of dirt as it scraped the earth beneath the gravel.
“I beg your pardon, Commander,” he quailed.
Pensword saw the fear, the sorrow, the pain, but mostly the fear, and he recoiled. It was one thing to hold a vendetta against the Gryphons of the empire, but … this was an old one, most likely Equestrian born. The guards braced themselves, but Pensword raised a staying wing. If there was one thing he and Matthew could agree on, it was to show respect when respect was offered, and gentleness when needed most. Both knew this was such a time.
He stepped forward, and bent to raise the Gryphon up. “Please, there is no need for such behavior. I believe both of us can agree it is most unwarrior-like.Thou feelest pain and regret to even be in this place. I would surmise such feelings were brought about by the actions of an ancestor or some clan from which thou art descended. And yet, thou art here to learn of thine ancestors’ failings, rather than deny or laud them. That is more than can be said for many others.”
“I … well, um, thank you,” the Gryphon sputtered.
“A true warrior knows how to identify an enemy,” Pensword shrugged. “You are not an enemy. I assume you have come here to learn of your peoples’ history from the Pony perspective, and the things which I witnessed firsthoof. You have my permission to do so. It is best for all of us to learn, so that our own children will not make the same mistakes.”
The Gryphon coughed awkwardly. “Thank you for the compliment. I’ve been told that I look rather young for my age, but I’m afraid that I am far past the cub rearing phase.”
“Then learn what you can, and teach whom you can. Thestral, Unicorn, Gryphon, Pegasus, Earth Pony, any that need it. They need not be your own cubs to learn at your talons.”
“Right. Well, thank you again. I … look forward to learning, I suppose.” The old Gryphon nodded respectfully to the guards and Pensword, before turning aside and making his way down the path.
Pensword sighed ruefully, then made his own way through town. He trotted beyond the borders and into the fields beyond. He hardly knew what he was doing, letting his hooves guide his steps. And so it was that he found himself standing before an old cottage with four white stone walls, and a pair of small windows on either side of the door. The construction was new, but the architecture followed a style that had fallen out of use centuries ago. He walked up to it, and brushed his hoof against the door. It swung in at his touch, revealing the cramped, empty recreation of the rooms where he had grown up. He wandered through each, and smiled softly at the familiar memories. The poppies outside made the cottage a truly picturesque scene.
The guards waited patiently on either side of the entrance, and Pensword heaved a heavy sigh. He’d missed home, but that didn’t make it easier to shoulder the loss, even if he had been able to build something new in its place. He clopped over to the hearth, and ran a hoof over the new stone. Then he stepped up, and laid himself down in front of the hole. He could almost hear the fire crackling as his mother hummed in her rocking chair with her sketch pad, while his brother and sister either napped with him or watched the logs burn. As the tune shimmered through his memory, he closed his eyes and laid his head on a hoof. The sleep came quickly.
Pensword peered through the now-familiar mists of his mind. He could have built up a whole world, if he’d wanted to, but for some reason, he didn’t. He felt strangely neutral. about the whole thing, as though his emotions had been … dulled somehow. He felt a presence behind him, but sensed no ill intent, so he rose and turned to face … himself?
“What?” Pensword asked in confusion. “Who are…?” While the dullness remained, he still felt that familiar sense of caution, and crouched into a defensive stance.
“As I am, you once were,” the other Pensword said simply. “As you are, I will one day be.”
“... Matthew?” Pensword asked uncertainly. “But … you look like me.”
“Yes, because we’re the same,” Matthew replied simply.
“No, you’re a human from Earth, stuck in Equestria, waiting for the princesses to bring your body back.”
“And I am also the foal who got a second chance at living and growing up. I am the one who lost his entire family in a Gryphon attack.”
“No, that’s me!” Pensword snapped. “You have a family that loves you on Earth.”
“Correction: You do,” Matthew replied.
“Come again?”
“You have two families,” Matthew said simply as he shrugged his wings. “You know how Luna’s been giving you a break lately? She’s been taking that time to talk with me one-on-one. You weren’t willing to accept what she told you, so she had to try it with me, instead.”
Pensword raised a brow in confusion. “Come again?”
Matthew smiled as he took a relaxing breath. “You and I are the same mind. I’m just the manifestation of that exists because of the stress we faced losing our family, and then having all our old memories spring back at once. We never really split in the first place. Truth be told, we’ve been working together for a long time now. We just weren’t willing to acknowledge the merge.” He waved a wing, and the familiar images of Grif and Taze appeared before them. “Grif and Taze found their own way to merge together, and they became a new entity, someone who was both, yet neither. The whole point of this meeting now between us is that we need to realize we’ve always been one. Both lives were lived by us. Both of us had the same set of morals, the same ideals, and the same trauma. Why else do you think Luna has kept us aboard her staff in the first place? If you and I were really two different minds sharing one body, we wouldn’t be fit for duty, and we’d probably be visiting a psychiatrist every week.”
Pensword opened his muzzle to respond. A brief surge of air rose as he prepared to speak. Then the air caught in his throat, he croaked, and closed his muzzle again as his brow furrowed.
“While you're thinking, you should know that while you and Lunar Fang thought I was in control with the trains, I wasn’t. Well, I guess it’s better to say that neither of us truly were. If it really were just me, I never would have given up one of my locomotives to someone else. I’m a little OCD there. You were the kindhearted soul that gave something to a mare who never really had any gifts or things to call her own.”
Pensword paused and frowned. “I … don’t want to lose you,” he finally admitted. “I know … I guess I always knew I had access to your … our memories and thoughts, but I liked our conversations too much to just … go there like that.”
Matthew chuckled. “And we’ll continue to have those conversations. Do you really think we’re the only ones that have internal debates?” He shook his head, even as he continued to smile. “It’s time we put this to bed once and for all.” He offered a hoof. “I am a Pony.”
Pensword reached out a hoof, and watched half in surprise, half in relief as the hoof morphed into a familiar hand. “I am a Human,” he continued.
“We are Pensword, through and through. We have a family on Earth. We watched and lived our Pony family’s death,” they spoke together, even as the mists began to eddy and swirl around them with streaks of light. “We have knowledge of Earth’s history and the training of the Equestrian Military.”
“Till the last shot is fired,” Matthew started as he rose and flared his wings.
“I’ll stand watch over my lands,” Pensword finished as he rose on two solid legs stepped forward, knelt, and embraced himself.
Pensword didn’t know how long he’d stood there. It felt like seconds. Or was it an eternity? A firm cough pulled him out of the fog. He looked on in confusion as a familiar star-filled mane billowed in front of his face. His eyes widened, and he pulled away from the now familiar face of Princess Luna, though she now stood eye to eye with the commander.
“Princess?” he balked.
“Easy, Pensword. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but your mind needed the time to heal properly. Once you reconciled with your psyche, I came. And since you wanted to hug something, well … I appear to have replaced your projection of yourself.” She chuckled, then smiled kindly at him. “I am so proud of you, Commander Moonkissed Pensword, Matthew Washington Hurricane of Equestria’s Armies and Earth attache, my dear friend.” The mists rippled around her as her body expanded to its proper size once more, and she looked down on the Pegasus with a familiar motherly gaze. “Only a select few of us will know know of your combined titles, of course. But it is better that way. That being said, we still have the matter of dealing with young Matthew to consider. As of today, our records show that he’s still technically in a coma.”
“Bury him officially here in Mountainside Falls. I would have enjoyed it, if I was still human and knew the meaning of this place. But make sure to prepare an empty coffin, too, to represent him and his return home. I wish him to be ‘buried’ in George Park, once we can travel back to Earth again. It’s Earth’s counterpart to Mountainside Falls. Maybe we can offer an honor guard of sorts as well. Nothing grand, just … proper for the sacrifices he made.”
“Neither I nor my sister will forget the deeds of one so weak, and yet so very strong.” She laid a wing on his head, and patted it a few times. “It truly is amazing, what you accomplished here for us, and we will never forget it.”
“I know.” Pensword chuckled. “You know, Lunar Fang figured something like this might happen. She said that if I should ‘kill’ Matthew, she would give that name to our first colt as his middle name. Fitting, don’t you think?”
The dream plane had shifted, now that Pensword had finished his discussion with himself. A large chamber towered three stories tall with bookcases as far as the eye could see. Thick metal staircases and walkways dotted the room, and movable ladders attached themselves on every bookcase for ease of use. Models of objects and events from his past as a human and Pony dotted the various display tables and alcoves of what had to be a library of some sort. Colors, crests, and symbols for the Gryphon Slayers, the Demon Damned, the Demon Slayers, the US Army, the logo for his grandfather’s unit, George Washington’s flag, and Pensword’s own personal colors. Then he laid his eyes on the family crests, both from Earth and his own. Two flags stood on either side of a massive stained glass window, the one for the United States, the other for Equestria. A smile crossed his muzzle as scenes from the library in The Last Crusade played on a television screen off to the side. He watched them for a time, then turned his attention back to the stained glass window again.
The colored shards of glass wove together to depict his history, his dual nature as Equestrian and Human, all while flowing together in seamless unity. All of his family members, both Equine, Human, and adopted flowed together around the edges of the window. He smiled, then looked down at a very familiar tile pattern. He quickly took wing, and nearly squeed with delight when he realized the likeness to the library in Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade, complete with the large X. The only difference here laid in the fact that a large table stood on top of the floor with a large scale model of the Titanic encased perfectly in a glass case.
Luna walked to a non-stained-glass window, and beckoned Pensword to walk to the window. The two looked out to see a veritable legion of trebuchets and WWII tanks guarding the sanctuary. He withdrew himself from the window to peek down a hall he’d noticed earlier, and his smile widened into a grin as he eyed two models, one of the Bismarck and the other the Yamato. “You know, Luna, I’m still continuing the tradition of calling Lunar Fang my little Thestral.”
“As long as thou art prepared for her calling you her little Human,” Luna responded with a grin. “It’s good to continue past traditions. So much history can be tied to those two words. Hopefully, with your knowledge and experience fully combined, you won’t make the same mistake my sister and thee did with Lord Shawn, hmm?”
Pensword ruffled his feathers. “Can we please not talk about that? I still get phantom pains sometimes.”
Luna’s laughter cascaded like a waterfall as she gazed on the Pony’s blushing face. The spark of Matthew’s enthusiasm mixed now with Pensword’s experience and wisdom, making him look more distinguished. That effect was ruined, however, by the new psyche’s combined fluster reflex. She uttered something in a language Pensword had never heard before.
“Sorry, did you say something, Luna?” Pensword asked.
Luna only smiled cryptically in response.
“All right, Aria. Are you ready to test those wings?” Vital smiled as he stood in the castle’s courtyard. The cryophoenix perched atop his horn as it looked curiously around its new surroundings. A fresh coating of frost covered the cobblestones, making them sparkle in the early morning air as Vital’s breath puffed in tiny clouds. Snow crowned the parapets and upper walls of the keep, and a gentle breeze flowed up from the south, carrying a flurry of flakes kicked up from snowdrifts nearby.
Aria chirped happily as she ruffled her breast feathers, and shook her long, flowing tail. The extra exposure to the cold of winter had increased her growth cycle dramatically, and her pale blue had darkened to a mixture of indigo and arctic with hints of white fringing up from the sides of her eyes and along the tips of her tail feathers.
“Then let’s get this party started. Remember. Flap your wings for lift, then use your magic to push cold air down around you, and force an artificial warm air column to push you up.”
Aria let out a playful trill as her shoulders shook, before flapping her wings, and leaping into the air. A sparkling vapor not unlike a cloud of ice crystals trailed behind her tail as she flapped, climbing higher and higher. She tucked her feet in to reduce drag from the wind. Then, once she’d gained enough height, she dropped into a dive, and pulled up a few feet above the ground, tracing her long feathers along the cobbles to spread her mist over the ground behind in curling patterns and shapes. She sang as she repeated the exercise again and again, using her tail as her brush and the stones as her canvas. When she’d passed for the tenth time, she alighted on Vital’s shoulder, and nuzzled against his cheek as he craned his neck back to check on her.
“Nicely done,” he complimented her. “You’re a real natural.” Aria pulled her head back to her shoulders in what Vital could only guess was the avian equivalent of a blush. Vital chuckled in return. “All right, all right. I can take a hint. How about we get you inside for a nice treat, hmm? I think we still have some venison somewhere in the kitchens.
“Attack,” a weak cry came in over the walls. The parapet guards rushed to their stations to watch the horizon as a cluster of shadowy figures raced towards New Unity, kicking up snow and slush in their wake.
Vital Spark narrowed his gaze. “What’s going on up there, Farseer?” he called up. “Friend or foe?”
“Scouts coming back at full charge, with Rohirrim in tow. They’re carrying an injured Gryphon.”
Vital narrowed his gaze. “Then it sounds like it’s time to sound the alarm. Set off the signal flare to rally the troops. Alert condition yellow. And send off a runner to get the commanding officers here as soon as you can. I’ll go get Clover and Hammer Strike. They’ll want to be here for the briefing.”
Moments later, the signal fire lit, and as the party drew close, the Rohirrim powered through the gates with the Gryphon in tow, while the scouts lagged in after, panting heavily.
Seconds later, Black Rook was on the scene, glaring up at the signal fires, then looking at his own men. “Somebody get Big Guns,” he ordered as his eyes fell on the Gryphon. “We’ll need help moving him to the infirmary.” Then he turned on the scouts. “Report.”
“Over fifty thousand Changelings five miles out. They’re right on our hooves. They’re larger, better armored, and possibly more intelligent than the last group,” Emerald Haze reported.
“Signs of Chrysalis?”
“None yet, Sir, but given these are Changelings, she may have been hiding her presence.”
“Have we sent word to Me-Me?”
“We just arrived, Sir,” Emerald haze pointed out. “We’ve been galloping for almost a day straight.”
“Then we can expect them to reach us in far less.” He raised his head. “Farsight! Send an alert to Grif’s compound, and get a representative over here ASAP,” he barked. “We need a war council.” He turned back to the others. “Has someone already gone to alert Clover and Hammer Strike?”
“Tower is on his way already,” Blast shouted as he exited the armory. “I want troops manning the towers, but don’t show your heads. We need to get those mages forward to activate the magic defenses. And by Sleipnir, get that second wall manned!” he barked along the parapets. “We’re not going to lose those lands a second time.”
“Yes, Sir!” Rook saluted. “Permission to rally the mages?”
“Granted. Get going. We don’t have much time. Get the flyers while you’re at it. I want the air force deployed to take the clouds, if we can,” Blast barked.
“Yes, Sir!” Rook saluted, then galloped towards the barracks as fast as his legs could carry him. His eyes narrowed in determination. They weren’t going to hurt anypony else this time, not if he could help it.
Tower panted breathlessly as he burst into Hammer Strike’s office. “We’re under attack! Fifty thousand Changelings are on the way, and reports say they’re armed, armored, and more intelligent. To sum it up, Sir, we’re in trouble.”
Hammer Strike growled faintly as he placed his quill down. “It seems they didn’t get the message last time. Are preparations underway?”
“Blast is rallying the troops, and Gryphons are pouring in to hasten battle preparations. The Bladefeather compound is going into lockdown. I advise contacting Grif and the Commander quickly, and instructing them to return with all due speed.”
Hammer Strike nodded. “To better the odds, I’m granting permission to use up to class two weapons.”
“Understood. I’ll pass the note to a runner. I need to get to Clover now to let her know. We need every mage possible on the front. We’ve got a lot of loose lumber lying around the outer second wall. I hate to waste materials, but you might need to burn them to keep the Changelings from using them.”
“I’ll get on that as soon as I can. Go alert Clover while I prepare.”
“Sir!” Blast snapped a salute, before galloping out the office as quickly as his hooves could carry him. The air resounded with the rhythmic tromp of organized hooves as the guards took their positions, while civilians were escorted to bunkers built by Me-Me and the Thestrals just for such an occasion.
Vital Spark entered the lab with little ceremony. Clover appeared to be dangling a fragment of metal over a heated beaker, where a solution bubbled steadily. A set of heavy duty goggles covered her eyes, and a thick leather apron protected her front as she prepared to drop it in.
“Clover?” Vital asked gently. He knew better than to startle his teacher, especially when she was in the middle of a project.
“What is it, Vital Spark?” she asked, not even bothering to look up from her work.
“It’s Chrysalis. She’s coming for another swing at New Unity. I volunteered to come get you, since I know you don’t generally like how … insistent troops can be at times like this.”
“How many?” Clover asked as she worked.
“About fifty thousand, but she’s made some modifications.”
“Gather the class together, have them pair up, and for Celestia’s sake, put on some proper robes,” Clover chided him as she took her current robe off, replacing it with a sturdier midnight blue one. Several areas contained plates of some sky-blue metal. She grabbed her focus, testing the mace end carefully.
Vital nodded as he prepared to leave, then turned back as a thought struck him. “Can Aria maybe wait out the battle here? She’s already had her morning meal, and I don’t know if she’s ready for proper combat yet.”
“No, I want you to bring an infant phoenix to the front lines,” Clover said as she rolled her eyes.
Vital chuckled. “Thanks, Clover. It’s good to know you still care.” Vital shot a bolt of magic into a corner, where he froze up a bird stand made out of solid ice, complete with environmental runes to regulate temperature. “There you go, Aria,” he said as he levitated the chick onto her new perch. “Now you be a good girl while I’m gone. Clover and I have to help defend the castle.”
Aria cheeped longingly.
“Not until you’re older, young lady. I promise, we’ll be fine.” He kissed her gently on the top of her head. “Now you be safe, too.” Then he turned back to Clover. “Meet you at the barracks?”
“No, you're with Trixie this time. Keep each other safe. It’s time I stretched my muscles.”
“... I meant for the big meet before we all separate, but okay. I don’t think Trixie will object too much,” Vital said with a chuckle. “Don’t think I have much to complain about either.” He let the smile drop as he looked on his teacher. “Be safe out there, Clover.” He let a playful smirk pull at the corners of his mouth. “You may be a pain in my tail, but you’re the only teacher I’ve got. I’d rather not have to go through the trouble of finding someone else.”
“Please. If fifty thousand and change had been enough to kill me, I’d have been dead long ago,” Clover chuckled. “Pay attention. You might learn something.”
“I always do with you around.” Vital smiled as he left out the lab’s door. “See you on the other side, Shifu.”
“Hopefully, no time soon.” And with a pop, Clover was gone.
Vital chuckled. “Not what I meant, but I’ll take it.” With that, he left, and closed the door behind him, only to smack into Tower Shield. “Oh, hey, Tower. You here to find Clover?”
“Yes, I–.”
“I already told her. She’s gone to the border to prepare. I’m heading to my quarters to get my gear, then to find Trixie. We’ll see you out there.”
“Right.” Tower nodded as he turned about, and made a dash for the nearest stairwell. After all, the troops needed him to help organize tactics.
Chrysalis stood towards the rear of her ranks, a mad glimmer in her eye as she glared at the walls of New Unity, before turning to her full target. <Go, my Changelings. Go, and pillage the Gryphons. Whittle the Ponies’ allies down one by one.> Then she turned to address another of her praetorians. <Go. Take five thousand, and cut off the newest princess. Cocoon her and her friends. Do with the rest of the town as you see fit. Deny them staging, and cut off that despicable Twilight before her magic can be brought to bear.>
The praetorian saluted, and buzzed its wings as it and the ordered five thousand flew toward Ponyville. Chrysalis cackled with glee as the first of her guards pivoted towards the Gryphon Compound, while the flanks were being defended by Changelings with blue crystal prisms growing out of their backs. On a single command, they launched half the crystals as they impacted and struck the barriers. They pulsed, and began to grow as they fed on the magic, developing the beginnings of a crystal wall. The attack was going quite well, all things considered. That … confused the Changeling queen. So far, none of her forces had been attacked. What was taking them so long?
Twilight burst up from her pile of paperwork as a massive detonation shook the tree. She raced to her window to see what was going on, only to gasp at the sight. The airship Pensword had assigned to guard the town border was smoking, and it appeared to have declared war on the Everfree itself. A large scorch mark smoked in the distance. Craters pockmarked the ground near the path towards New Unity. The princess would have thought it a cannon’s misfire or an exercise, were it not for the hint of motion she noticed in that black mark. Seconds later, a veritable wave of black, green, and blue surged out from the pile of what she surmised to be … corpses.
She did her best to swallow the bile building in the back of her throat. Like it or not, Ponyville was under attack, and if this was anything like what the attack on New Unity had been, it meant they needed to initiate countermeasures immediately. She teleported to Mayor Mare’s office, startling the official as she spoke to what Twilight could only assume was a reporter from Canterlot.
“Mayor Mare, we have a problem.”
“What is it, Twilight?” the mayor asked.
“Ponyville is under attack. It’s time to execute Plan SRB-01.”
“What?”
“Mayor, the town is about to go into a panic, if we don’t start immediately. We have a whole swarm of Changelings on our doorstep. I need you to activate the emergency net now, and evacuate the citizens. The Santa Maria can only buy us so much time.”
“That’s what the noise was all about? I thought Rainbow Dash was just up to one of her pranks again.”
“Mayor, now, please,” Twilight insisted firmly.
“Right.” Mayor Mare reached into her desk, and pulled out a pulsing green convex crystal mounted in four jagged black spires. A series of colorful bands glowed between, as though holding the structure together. She quickly stroked each of the four sides, one up, one down, up, then down, followed by tapping a series of individual strings, which each let out their own musical tone, before she finally rapped her hoof solidly on the top of the crystal, causing it to ring out through the room.
The sound of Changeling fire erupted, and Mayor Mare turned to look out the window. The familiar red chiton of Me-Me’s Changelings greeted her gaze as each marched up in an orderly fashion, and knocked on the residents’ doors.
“It’s done, Twilight.”
Twilight nodded. “Good. Make sure to get everyone into the shelters. Me-Me said they should be able to mask your emotions as long as you stay there. Twilight narrowed her gaze, then flicked her horn as magic poured off of it. Her focus appeared in a flash of light, its gems practically glowing as its polished blade gleamed. A set of light purple pauldrons and a slightly darker peytral with her cutie mark engraved on it glinted in her magic’s glow.
“Y-you don’t really intend to go into battle, do you, Princess?” the newspony spoke up for the first time since her arrival.
“Sorry, but I don’t have time for an interview. Mayor Mare, take him with you. Make sure to test him with the lanterns, just to be on the safe side. If the others are here, have them help with the evacuation. They can come join me after.”
Mayor Mare nodded grimly as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Of course, Twilight. Good luck out there.”
And with that, Twilight disappeared in a flash of light.
“Well don’t just stand there. Come on!” Mayor Mare said as she pulled the flabbergasted reporter out the door by his collar.
“TRIPLE MAXIMIZE MAGIC!” Clover swung her focus as dozens of bright blue magic circles materialized behind her, and began shooting globes of bright white light. “GREATER ANTI-MAGIC BARRAGE!” As the energy hit, massive groups of Changelings seemed to cease to exist.
She didn’t even wait to see the spell finish as she turned to face another advance force. This time, firey orange circles appeared behind her. “TRIPLE MAXIMIZE MAGIC: VOLCANIC ERUPTION BARRAGE!” Balls of molten lava began flooding out, melting Changelings left, right, and center.
Clover drove the head of her staff into the ground. The large magic circles appeared before her in yellow, blue, and red. “Mother Faust, lend me your sacred breath to make my contract heard. From the depths of the furnace, come to me, and honor the deal we made. Summon!” The red circle erupted in flames as imps, drakes and other creatures poured through the gap.
“From the heights of Heaven, repay me with your divine grace. Summon!” Electricity crackled menacingly from the yellow circle as sentient thunder clouds flooded out.
“From your palace at Nibelheim, speed to my aid. Summon!” Frost and snow poured from the blue circle as living snowmen slid out. With the gates open, Clover’s horn burned as an extra six layers of magic covered the circles, and the ground started to smoke. “TRIPLE MAXIMIZE BOSS SUMMON!” The gates suddenly reversed, sucking the creatures escaping them back in. Then they exploded as roaring infernos, deadly thunderstorms, and jagged ice erupted from their mouths. Three shadows emerged from the gates amid the chaos, towering and menacing in their own rights.
The first was a large creature, built like a Minotaur with massive hooves, a bulky bipedal body, and long horns. However, that’s where similarities to the race ended. His face was flat, with a large sloping brow and deep set eyes. His wide-lipped mouth gave way to jagged fangs. His horns curved upwards and behind him in a savage demonic arc. His body was covered in blood-red fur that seemed to pulse with tiny lava streams, and his eyes literally burned with tongues of fire. A long prehensile tail swept behind him. His massive arms ended in five-fingered clawed hands that held shackles on both wrists with the remnants of his broken chain links attached. A large spiked club was gripped tightly in his right hand, and the ground beneath him scorched with every hoof step.
The second figure to step out was a human, though few in Equestria would know what that was. He was tall and thin. Yet, despite his ancient form, his body seemed to emanate an aura that demanded both respect and fear. A long golden spear was clenched in his right hand, and his eyes crackled with the fury of a thousand storms. A long white fluffy beard was the only welcoming thing on his visage, and it stretched nearly to his feet.
The last was also human, though she was far paler than her yellow counterpart. Her body was wrapped in gauzy blue silk, studded in jewels that could have been either diamonds or large pieces of ice. An ornate crown shaped much like a castle stood boldly atop her brow, and she carried a pale white whip with glowing blue runes running down its length. A white mist hovered and sparkled around it and her, enhancing the beauty of her lean figure. The wind swirled constantly around her, causing her hair to writhe in the air. With each flash in the light, a corona of rainbows surrounded her head, distracting her enemies, and accentuating her form. Her gown billowed and shifted around her arms and legs, drawing the eye to her scantily clad frame. Her lips were a frostbitten blue. A deep ocean-blue fabric tied her breasts to her chest, complimenting the loincloth that swayed with every sashay of her hips. Wherever her feet stepped, the snow seemed to thicken and double in size, while patches of slush became glacial chunks of ice waiting to perform their mistress’ bidding.
“Oh, you have got to be kiddingme!” Vital half gaped, half grinned at the sight, even as the icy maiden turned, and gave him a flirtatious wink, before returning to the task for which she had been summoned. “Shiva, Ramuh, and Ifrit all at once?”
“Seriously, Clover?” Shiva said. Her voice was as gentle as a breeze, melodious as crystal, and cold as the arctic. “We give you access to our power, and you bring us to exterminate cockroaches?” She tsked, and shook her head. “For shame.”
The crystals the Changelings had embedded into the protective barriers had grown to ten times their original size, and pulsed threateningly. Suddenly, they flared with a brilliant light, before detonating with a powerful explosion. Crystal shards whizzed through the air like shrapnel. Cries of pain arose as the shards embedded themselves within sensitive Pony flesh, after having overwhelmed what magic was left in the segments of barrier they had detonated on. The Changelings launched another barrage into the barriers, even as the fields began to regenerate.
“Clover!” Blast Shield roared from the walls as he oversaw the retreat to a safer distance. “We’ve got wounded and magic bombs! We need you up here!”
“Do you want a chance to move them, or do you want me and the swarm over there? I can’t hold this spell and go help you!” Clover yelled back. She looked to the three. “Listen, it’s not a good time right now. We have a contract, so stop being stubborn, and go kick some bucking ass!”
“Were it not for the souls here to torture, I would have you roasting on a spit in the inferno, little Pony,” Ifrit’s growl rumbled over the battlefield. He chuckled darkly as the veins of magma pulsed near his hands. Lava hissed, burning into the ground as two spheres appeared in his palms, then doubled, tripled, quadrupled in size. He grinned, baring his fangs as his eyes glowed an unholy red. “So, you enjoy explosions, do you? Watch how a truemaster does it.” Then he thrust his hands forward, and the spheres launched, consuming everything in their path before making ground contact, and detonating in twin columns of flame that set off smaller concussions along the cracks that stretched out from them. He laughed as he heard the screams.
“Ah, the young are so hot blooded,” Ramuh sighed as he looked over the approaching swarm. Then his beard twitched as the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile. “Tell me, vermin, have any of you ever heard of a magical device called a bug zapper?” He raised his spear above his head, and thunderheads gathered overhead. Bright flashes of lightning blazed behind the curtain of vapor, before suddenly parting as a score of metal spears identical to that which the elemental held embedded themselves into the ground. Their heads suddenly split apart like flower petals, and a resounding crash sounded as the blinding bolts struck. The electrical current jumped from spear to spear, capturing all the Changelings within, and channeling millions of volts through their corpses. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Interesting. I haven’t encountered a hive mind in quite some time. Tell me, did you know the brain is run by electrical impulses?” He chuckled as bolts of lightning sheared through the air with pinpoint accuracy. “In other words, I know where each and every one of you are now.”
Shiva let loose a throaty chuckle. “Come now, Grandfather. Couldn’t you at least try to leave a few for me? If Clover is going to go to the trouble of summoning me in the first place, I want to reach my quota.” She raised a hand, and the snow drifts rose from the ground in a swirling torrent, circling her frame and obscuring her as the ice chunks tore themselves from the ground and broke apart. The snow danced around them, cleansing the mud and grime to leave a perfectly clear prismatic surface. Two hands emerged from the storm to touch each block, and glowing blue henna scrawled all over them, before they shattered into icicles. The snow storm condensed around each of the frozen daggers, imbuing them with Shiva’s frigid essence, before she thrust her hands forward, and rained a frozen hell on the enemy. Those whose chiton managed to take the brunt of the impalement pressed on, only to shudder as spidery white designs spread out from the site of impact. Soon they began to stumble. Their eyes grew heavy. Their hooves grated against the ground, before that fatal trip sent them tumbling forward. Their bodies became completely white, then shattered as their own momentum dashed them against the ground.
Ramuh groaned. “Why is it that you two always have to compete with each other?”
“You really have to ask?” both returned in perfect synch.
Clover’s strength began to falter, and the aura covering her horn began to fade as she struggled to keep the connection. “I’m not sure how much longer I can do this, but if there is anything any of you can do to stem the flow long enough to let us prepare, I’d appreciate it.”
“Children,” Ramuh said as he motioned towards the battlefield, “if you would.”
“Why is it we always have to do the legwork?”
“Because Gaia likes to eat my magic,” he said pointedly, “And as much as I enjoy satisfying her appetite, this is neither the time nor the place.”
“Why, Grandfather. I didn’t know it was like that.” Shiva chuckled again. “I wonder what Titan will think.”
“Where do you think he came from in the first place?” Ramuh asked with a completely straight face.
“Too much information!” both siblings shouted at once as Ifrit leaped high into the air, and came crashing down, triggering an eruption that spread across the forest as red-hot lava spewed up to form a natural barrier. Shiva placed her hands on the ground, and willed her frost into the ground to harden the entirety leading back to the castle and other fortifications. Then she rose, and jumped onto Ifrit’s shoulders.
“If you don’t mind, brother dear,” she said.
Ifrit rolled his eyes, then jumped up over his barrier, and threw her down. She smirked as she took a deep breath, then exhaled a harsh wind. Her hands turned completely white as a barrage of nigh-absolute zero winds blew out to wash over the invaders. The crack of tinkling crystal sounded as the Changelings’ wings froze into delicate works of art. Then Shiva smirked, before snapping her fingers, causing all of them to shatter.
“I think that should suffice. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked.
“Hardly,” Ifrit said as he rolled his eyes. “But it’s the best we can do, given the situation.” He rose as his form began to fade, and golden flecks flew off him back towards his portal. Shiva soon followed suit with hers, and Ramuh likewise as his spears returned to the seal from whence he’d emerged.
“It would seem our time is up,” Ramuh said with a warm smile as he patted the ground. “Until next we meet, fair lady.” He smiled as he raised his spear one last time, and a final torrent of lightning crashed into the earth. “Farewell,” he saluted as the last of his form faded, and his portal began to close. Shiva’s and Ifrit’s soon followed.
Clover staggered for a moment as the summoning gates collapsed. She used her staff as a crutch to pull herself to her hooves, and began to trek back to the wall. For many, it was the first time they’d seen the mage so worn out as she limped forward. Her age was now quite clear to them all as the gray in her mane and the wrinkles in her face were overshadowed by her fatigue.
“Anybody here got an ether to spare?” Vital asked, then let out a nervous chuckle as everyone stared at him. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
The battle raged on as a stray bolt of magic exploded the town fountain, leaving an exposed pipe to spurt water over the square. That water soon began to boil, however, and then to steam as a bright flash of light filled the air. Seconds later, a fully armored Celestia stepped forth from the cloud of steam her teleportation had generated. Her sword glowed a menacing white as she leveled it toward a group of Changelings that had surrounded her. Her mouth remained set in a grim straight line as she stared the group down.
It didn’t take long to break the standoff. The Changelings lunged with a savage ferocity. Celestia gave a casual flick with her horn, and the scent of burning flesh and boiling fluid filld the air with its reek. The Changelings fell apart, having been neatly sliced in half at their torsos. Her armor shone with the light of her celestial charge. The golden pauldrons had been carefully etched to portray a set of wings on either side. Her armored leggings had been expertly plated, reaching down from chest to hoof, with flexible joints to ensure proper mobility. Her breastplate also shone with a similar light. The image of a Unicorn head with wings spread out on either side had been burnished on, the emblem of the warrior chapter of Faust. The remainder of the armor spread like scales down her back and around her barrel. Her ethereal mane and tail flared with flames as she took in her surroundings.
A Pop sounded, and Celestia found the sharp edge of Twilight’s focus stopping just millimeters away from her face. Twilight’s eyes were wide with surprise, before she spun around, and sent a concussive blast at another party of the invaders. “Princess Celestia, what are you doing here? I thought you swore off military combat.”
“That may well be true, Twilight,” Celestia replied as her blade swept through another line of Changelings. Then she fired a concentrated beam of light from her her horn to take out three more Changelings. “However, these are extenuating circumstances. I had hoped never to have to fight again, but I included a few loopholes for situations like this. After all, what sort of Princess would I be, if I weren’t willing to protect my Ponies?” She looked Twilight up and down. “I see Clover has taught you well. Let’s see just how far that training has gone. I can sense about two thousand Changelings left in the vicinity. Are there any others?”
Twilight nodded. “They all heard Pinkie’s party cannon going off. She’s been popping up all over the place to distract them and make openings for the rest of us. Rainbow Dash and Rarity are on picket line with the Ponyville militia. They both took out a total of about one hundred changelings combined. Fluttershy and Applejack are working in the shelters to help keep everypony calm and tend any wounded.”
Celestia allowed herself a brief smile. “I’m glad to hear that they’re safe, but we can’t afford to linger here. Since you six seem to have Ponyville in hoof, I’ll finish clearing out what I can in this area, then move on to the Changelings attacking the Santa Maria. It appears the stronger portions of this invasion force can be found there. Given the unique nature of the ship, it would be a travesty, if she fell into Chrysalis’ hooves.”
Another round of lightning bolts discharged from the ship, and Twilight looked at it anxiously. “That one was weaker than the last. Could the storm core be running low on power?”
“A discharge of that magnitude takes a significant amount of energy to accomplish. If they’ve had to strain the core that much, then this force is certainly not one to be underestimated.” Celestia frowned. “Perhaps I should go over there first.”
“It might be better, if you did. I’d rather not be the one who has to explain why one of the new airships was destroyed in combat.”
Celestia chuckled. “Don’t worry, Twilight. The commander will understand.” Then she winced. “Though he might demand payment, if the ship is lost, since it is technically classified as a military vessel. That is something I would rather avoid, if possible. I’ll see you when the battle is over Twilight. Until then, good luck, and Faust protect you.” A blink later, and Celestia was gone.
Twilight spun her focus directly overhead, easily vivisecting the body of a drone, before it slammed into the ground twitching spasmodically. “Time to get to work.”
Changeling infiltrator 00065 remained still, breathing stopped as she tapped her oxygen reserve bladder. She had already sent the path to the rest of her colleagues. Once she’d emerged from her tunnel, she found an empty storeroom, snuck in, and changed from a guard to another guard. She would have to get past the next checkpoint, if she were to succeed in capturing the foals. She smirked, and snuck out, turning a corner, only to have to leap over a black cat with white around her muzzle. It looked at her with unnatural blue eyes. She shuddered, then shook her head, and moved on. The feline was unimportant. The objective was. She nearly jumped out of her disguise, when a deep voice called out to her, and she felt a heavy metal-clad hoof over her shoulder.
“So, the Changelings are invading, and Hammer Strike was nice enough to send a messenger to call me to the field. That’s what I’d call mighty neighborly of him.” A large Pony swathed in heavy duty armor chuckled hollowly from inside his helmet. “It’ll make for quite a story.” The eyes glowed as he clopped by. “Speaking of, this actually reminds me of the time….”
00065 flinched. She had just gotten away from the battle, and the lanterns, and now she was heading back, while this unknown guard in armor was going on about some mutated crab that had been terrorizing his old home off in the western ocean. She hooked the conversation into the hive mind, recording back towards her scribes incase something from this story could be gleaned for knowledge, she suffered in silence, while she let Storyteller speak.
“And that was when a dragon landed to steal the meat from my kill, but that ... is a story for another day,” he finally said as they reached the gates to the courtyard.
Meanwhile, Silent Collector sat on the steps leading into the castle fiddling with one of his throwing knives as he cleaned it with an oil cloth. He raised it into the light, then nodded in satisfaction as the light reflected off the edge. His eyes wandered over the courtyard, focusing on every detail, until the world began to lose color. He continued glancing from individual to individual, until his eyes came across a guard covered in a flaming yellow aura. He shook his head, and before anyone could question him, he prepped and threw the knife towards the guard, specifically aiming for the guard’s eye.
The infiltrator barely had time to register the motion, before the blade embedded itself in her eye. Guards were already rushing to tackle Collector, before shouts in both the courtyard and on the wall drew attention back to the guard, where she burst into green flames, and toppled over dead. Collector reared up, leapt into the air, and spun over the heads of the four guards who’d been trying to tackle him, before landing on the parapets. A magical shield sprung up around his back just in time to deflect the blasts the Unicorns had sent his way. Collector just stood up, and used a hoof to brush his coat free of dust, before turning and giving them a very sure and cocky grin. The slipped away sheepishly, knowing they would face reprimands for their actions.
“Well now, this’ll be a story for the ages, won’t it?” Storyteller commented through his helmet’s vents.
Collector gave a faint chuckle as he leapt back down, and approached the downed changeling. After scanning over the body one last time, he gripped the end of his knife, and removed it, frowning as he now had to clean it again. “Oracle, would you happen to have an idea of where a Changeling could have slipped in?” he asked. Collector stood still for a moment, before nodding to himself. “I’ll check in a moment.”
“Uh, are you … talking to yourself?” a guard asked as they moved to collect the Changeling’s body.
Collector directed the guard to his ear, where a small dark blue and black glowing spot resided. “Communication spell. Oracle isn’t a fighter, so she stays in the back, where it’s safe.”
“H-how did you know?” Clover asked tiredly as she shuffled toward him.
“I have a … particular skill that allows me to see through illusions,” Collector explained with practiced ease. “I’m Silent Collector. A pleasure to meet you, Clover.”
“Yes, a pleasure, indeed, Silent Collector,” Clover said as she looked the stallion over. “I’m sad to say I’ve never heard of you, but I would love a chance to properly interview you when I’m in better condition.”
Collector hummed for a moment, before reaching into his coat, and pulling out a small container. He opened it, and held it out for Clover. “Try one of these. It’s called a chewing soul. It won’t completely revitalize you, but it’ll at least put you in a better condition.”
Clover was too tired to argue. She took the container, and drained it in one shot. She perked up almost immediately. “That's … quite powerful,” she noted.
“I used to study late into the night. I got so exhausted that I couldn’t do anything for my classes during the day. I picked up the recipe from a special source.” he shrugged, then smiled. “I could show you the recipe sometime, though the ingredients are a little hard to come by.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Clover yawned. “But I still need to sleep. Thank you, Silent Collector.”
“My pleasure, Ma’am. Besides, I think Hammer Strike would kill me if I didn’t keep you safe,” he added with a mischievous wink. “I don’t think either of us wants that. Rest well, Miss Clever. We can hold for a while.”
“You’d better,” Clover murmured as she shuffled past the corpse, and into the castle proper. It was time for a rest.