Extended Holiday
Chapter 159: Lunar Oversight
Act 29
The airship arrived smoothly and easily to a surprisingly peaceful castle. The sun shone brightly down on the monstrous construction, and the awnings creaked as the vessel settled in to dock. The Shield twins stood at attention on the platform and saluted smartly as the passengers and crew stepped onto the deck with their guest/prisoner in tow.
“Really, Hammer Strike, I must compliment you on the artistry in those circuits you crafted. There’s a certain element of beauty, simplicity, and even mystery behind the energies that fuel this vessel.” Inari smiled as he complimented with enthusiasm. “It’s given me such grand inspiration. I feel I could paint for the next week with neither food nor water, merely my art to sustain me.”
”Thank … you?” Hammer Strike replied with uncertainty.
Tabby sighed and shook her head. “That’s just Inari being Inari. You get used to it.”
“Just don’t let him anywhere near your toys.” Oracle glared at the kitsune. “I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did to my collection.”
“It was an honest mistake,” Inari insisted.
“Yeah? And how’d you like it if I busted one of your paintings up?”
Tabby seized Oracle and held her back as she chuckled nervously. “Now, now, Oracle. Not in front of Hammer Strike.”
Oracle puffed out her cheeks, but managed to regain control of her temper. “We’ll settle this later,” she groused.
“... Those four are ridiculous,” Vital Spark said after a period of silence.
“Yes, they are certainly interesting,” Hammer Strike agreed. “But the reports speak highly of their skills.”
“And Silent did garner Clover’s attention. That’s no small feat.”
“As long as there’s no more murals on my ship,” Grif commented.
“Considering his personality, you might want to check through the lower levels,” Hammer Strike pointed out. “Feels good to be home, at least.”
“Just wait till next Tuesday,” Vital said with a smirk.
“Next Tuesday?” Grif asked.
“We do generally have to deal with some form of monster or friendship problem that inevitably stretches to New Unity, somehow,” the Unicorn noted.
“Close enough to the truth, though sometimes we get a week off,” Hammer Strike commented.
“Well, we did just have a major friendship lesson happen this week, so maybe Murphy will be nice to us this time, but I kind of doubt it.”
“Just don’t bring it up.” Hammer Strike shrugged.
Pensword sighed. “I’ll get the troops on standby now, just in case.” He looked back at Inari, still disbelieving that the Kitsune had survived for so long in the lower decks. He looked over at Grif, and then Vital. “I’m happy we’re not going to be coming back to problems. My next foals are coming soon, and I need to start getting things ready for their birth and … a few other things.”
“You do realize that’s actually Blast and Tower’s jobs now, right?” Vital asked.
“For Hammer Strike’s forces. But I still have say and word in the Thestral quarters. Not every Thestral Warrior here is under Blast and Tower’s command and authority.”
“Fair enough. Speaking of which, did anyone see how the construction was going when we were flying in? Trixie and I were a bit preoccupied.”
“Seems the dwarves got fed up with waiting for the final layer of trees to be cleared for the outermost wall. They put some of their own out in the cutting crews, just to make the work go faster. The cobblestone paths are behind, possibly because we have need of more creatures with thumbs for that kinda work, since Clover made it clear her mages aren't to be placing stones down. The towers and barracks have their foundations set, and we’re finally seeing some civilian housing set up,” Grif noted.
“So we’ll finally be able to get more traffic coming into the city other than workponies?”
“Hopefully.” Grif nodded. “Huh. That's unusual,” he said, looking down at the instruments for a few minutes.
“Something wrong?” Hammer Strike questioned.
“There’s an airship in Unity’s dock, mid-to-large design.” Grif looked to pensword. “Did Luna say anything about coming to Unity?”
“No,” Pensword replied as he looked over at the display. “The dimensions are actually smaller than Luna’s Flagship. Besides, she would dock at the Thestral areas…. Oh, that’s right. You might not have seen that request yet, Hammer Strike. We were hoping to be able to construct a dock for Luna’s Flagship in the Thestral quarters. The paperwork should be on your desk.” He turned back to Grif. “So no, this is a mystery ship to me.”
“We’ll have to see about this,” Grif noted as he began maneuvering the ship. “This is going to be a bit awkward.”
“I bet,” Pensword muttered.
“Hope you know how to parallel park,” Hammer Strike commented.
Over the next hour, Grif did his best to carefully park the Gantrithor. By the time he was done, they’d had several near-scapes, but nothing that wouldn’t buff out, thankfully. By the time he hit the switch for extending the gang plank, Grif was tired from the mental exertion.
“You want one of us to hunt down the owner of that airship for you, Hammer Strike?” Pensword asked
“Considering the look of the airship, it’s only a matter of time before they make their presence known to me.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Especially if Tower and Blast took note of the arrival of said airship.”
“Well, it could be a good thing, right?” Vital asked. “I mean, if it were bad, then you’d probably have a lot more people than Tower and Blast standing there.”
“Considering they report to me on all situations, it makes it somewhat hard to tell,” Hammer Strike noted.
“Best you go ahead and get the status report, then, I guess.” Vital shrugged. “Mind if we teleport off? Trixie and I need to unpack and check up with Clover.”
“Go for it,” Hammer Strike said and disembarked.
The two disappeared in a flash of light. Rarity had disembarked with the rest of the girls at Ponyville, since each had work they needed to get back to.
“So, where may I be of assistance?” Inari asked as he looked to his friends. “I believe there was mention of paperwork? It’s been some time since I tried my hand at origami, but I should be able to handle a load well enough.”
A few minutes later, Tower Shield appeared on the dock and carefully marched toward Hammer Strike, he was followed by a familiar figure. An older Thestral in buffed and polished lunar guard armor moved forward at a march. His dark fur had gray developing in places. His body was a road map of scars and past wounds. His right ear was torn at the middle, and he wore a patch covering his heavily-scarred left eye. His remaining eye shone with a dangerous light that gleamed with experience and danger in equal measure.
“My lord.” Tower bowed his head as they approached. “We have a visitor that needs to speak with you and Pensword.”
“Captain Nightshade, to what do I owe the unexpected visit?” Hammer Strike asked.
“Lord protector.” Nightshade gave a nod and a brisk salute. “On behalf of the lunar kingdom and the Thestral people, I have been tasked by Princess Luna to inspect all thestral colonies in the Equestrian kingdom and, if need be, get them up to standard. As the colony is on your lands, I wish to formally request permission to discharge said duties with the New Unity Thestral colony.”
“You’ve got clearance from me.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “So long as it complies with the current building standard, of course.”
“Of course.” Nightshade gave another respectful bow of the head. Then his expression hardened. “Boy, get down here and present yourself!”
Pensword was in the middle of making sure that Night Terror would have a guard of Thestral and stone mason Gryphons to escort her back to the settlement. When the order reached his ears, he turned around and flew at double pace to land next to Hammer Strike. “Reporting for duty.”
“It’s my understanding you are serving as leader for this colony. Is that correct?”
“That is correct. I sit on the council of the different tribes, and mediate between cross tribal problems.”
“Then may I ask why your colony is currently housed in wooden longhouses?”
“Because our tribal coffers weren’t full, and we only just recently hired stonemasons to help the workload. The majority of our masons have been assigned to inner city construction. We are behind schedule, I know, but we plan on the first house upgrades this summer, now that winter has passed.”
“Very well. Come along and let’s have a look at the rest,” Nightshade said as he casually lifted a hoof and deflected a suction-cup-ended bolt without even looking at it.
Pensword nodded and lifted out a board with parchment from his saddlebag. He used the board to catch one of Moon River’s famous projectiles, only to be stuck in the left wing by a second. “And I feel Moon River’s unit will try to hit you while you’re here.”
“You know how I lost this eye boy?”
“Only the rumors. I thought you would tell me when you were ready,” Pensword answered.
“It’s no secret. Gryphon attack on our southern border fifteen years before Luna’s return. Thestrals where basically border patrol then. Big brute of a tom found me indisposed. Had to fight him with my bare hooves. He got my eye with his talons; I broke his windpipe. Most important lesson I ever learned, never let your guard down for even a moment. You eat prepared, you sleep prepared, you only be unprepared when you’re dead.”
“I am open and here to take all advice and criticism for bettering our colony,” Pensword assured.
“Good. Now let’s see how much you need.”
Little Willow smiled as she knocked on the broad set of double doors in the cliff face. Her saddlebags were laden down with the loads that she had packed, and the new knife Grif had provided for her stood prominently in its sheath.
“Hello! Anybody home?”
“Hey, Willow,” Grif greeted as he opened the doors. “Sorry, was just taking care of things.”
Willow nodded. “I can come back later, if this isn’t a good time.”
“No, it’s fine.” Grif backed and invited her in with the wave of a welcoming wing. “What’s up?”
The mare passed into the hall and smiled. “I got a little something for the family. I know it’s not anybody’s birthdays, but I thought I’d be the good aunt and spoil them early.” She smirked. “I also happen to be overloaded with Granny Smith and Apple Jack’s famous apple treats. You know the ones.”
“Oh? They’re cooking up a storm?”
“Considering the fact that I married into the Apple family, naturally, Granny wants to spoil her great grandbabies, even if they are only by marriage.” She winked and pulled out a large apple pie. “Apparently, this is supposed to be good for a mare when she’s in the later stages of her pregnancy. She wanted Gilda to eat it when she was able.”
“Thanks.” Grif laughed and accepted the pie. “I’ll see she gets it.”
“And where are my nieces and nephew?”
“Tazeer is sleeping, and the girls are playing upstairs.”
“And Sylvio?”
“Whistle.” Grif chuckled.
Little Willow took a deep breath. The shrillness of the whistle that followed pierced the air and rebounded off the stone walls. The familiar rattle of wood striking wood soon answered the call as heavy moss-padded paws and clacking wooden claws echoed and thumped respectively along the floor. A few moments later, a familiar set of burning blue eyes greeted the mare as a lolling tongue licked her face and coated it with sap.
Little Willow laughed and pushed weakly at the enthusiastic timber wolf’s head. “Down, boy. Down,” she said. “Heel.”
Sylvio whined at the fact she wanted to cut his greeting short, but respected her wishes and promptly sat back on his haunches.
Little Willow took the time to wipe some of the sap off her face with her cloak, then rifled through her pack. “Got a little something from Rarity, since you’ve turned Sylvio here into a sort of mascot for the Rohirrim.” A few seconds later, she removed a large swath of fabric, complete with a familiar beak-like hood and a silver cloud-like shimmer. Sylvio was equipped seconds later. “Now you two can match.”
“Wow.” Grif chuckled. “Looking good, buddy,” he said as he rubbed the timberwolf’s head affectionately.
Sylvio barked his appreciation and leaned into the affection, then licked Grif’s hand.
“And what is a family unit without a family uniform to match?” Willow promptly pulled out three more smaller cloaks and three adult-sized ones.
“Huh, you’ve been thinking through this a lot.” Grif chuckled.
“Well, after everything you put into my wedding, it seemed only fair to return the favor. Tall Oak will probably be stopping by soon enough with his own gifts. He feels the same way I do.” She smiled and embraced Grif. “After all, you are our brother.”
“And I couldn't ask for better family.” Grif chuckled and returned the embrace. Then his breath caught. He stopped for a moment as his talons prodded her barrel experimentally, and his eyes widened. “Does Mac know?”
“Not yet.” Willow grinned. “I might have known you’d see through to my biggest surprise.”
“After Shrial caught me off guard, I figured it would be good to study up on these things. Turns out the signs are similar for both species, at first.”
“That might explain a few things about HippoGriffs and how we’re compatible.” She smirked. “So, got any ideas for some names, Uncle Grif?”
Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he sorted through several documents on his table. With himself and his assistants gone, he didn’t have anyone to really work on anything new that came up, which led to a few overlooked documents now sitting on his desk. Of course, if it was urgent, either of the shields could handle it. Sure enough, though, he heard the steady rhythmic tapping of talons and paws, and based off the shift of weight and tepid nature, it was a large Gryphon that was nervous about coming to the office, meaning it was most likely Gilgamesh. He waited until the steps drew close enough before speaking.
“You’re free to enter, Gilgamesh,” he called out, giving a faint smirk as he heard Gilgamesh jump at being called out.
“Y-yes, Sir,” he replied, opening the door slowly before entering. “I’m s-sorry to interrupt you so soon after your trip.”
“Think nothing of it.” Hammer Strike spoke gently. He almost chuckled at the situation. Gilgamesh reminded him so much of a child too nervous to speak to his parents, though obviously in the body of a very large Gryphon. “What seems to be the issue?”
Gilgamesh reached behind himself and pulled a book from his wings. “C-Clover was teaching me about elemental at-ttunement, but I can’t really grasp the c-concept that well. She told me to come to you to see if you could h-help me understand.”
“Well, I need to understand where you’re at.” Hammer Strike shuffled his papers into a drawer to be retrieved later as he took the book Gilgamesh placed on his desk.
“I just don’t get the idea of it.” Gilgamesh rubbed the back of his head. “I mean, h-how does one get an element bound to them or attuned to them?”
Hammer Strike shook his head. “It’s not quite like that. It’s … more already with you than you think.” Hammer Strike’s eyes glowed for a brief moment before extinguishing.
“So, I-I already have it with me?” Gilgamesh questioned, lost at the concept.
“Yes, actually. The best way I can explain it is by asking you a few questions. Primarily, do you notice any particular spells you cast that seem easier than others of the same level?”
“I’m n-not sure.” Gilgamesh scratched his chin in thought.
“Then we’ll have to give it a brief test.” Hammer Strike smiled as he stood up. “Come along. We’ll head to the training grounds.”
It didn’t take long for the duo to reach the inner training fields, though they kept to one of the back corners to keep attention off the timid Gryphon.
“All right,” Hammer Strike started. “We’ll go simple about it. I’d like you to go element by element and create a small orb of each type. Gather air, earth, water, fire, and potentially light, if you can manage it.”
Gilgamesh nodded as he pulled out another book from his wings and began reading through it quickly. After a few moments, he stowed it away again, held out his hands, and began focusing.
Over the course of fifteen minutes, he slowly but surely pulled up air, earth, and water into perfect spheres between his hands. It wasn’t until he came to fire that Hammer Strike could note the difference in how fast Gilgamesh could conjure it. It wasn’t remarkably faster, but it was at least ten percent more than his previous elements. Of course, when he was doing so, Gilgamesh didn’t seem to take too much notice of it before he progressed onto light, which took an equal amount of time comparative to the first three elements.
Gilgamesh let the orbs dissipate with a heavy breath. While the Gryphon could use magic, Hammer Strike could tell he wasn’t quite so advanced on the wellspring of magic he could bring forth.
“H-how was that?” Gilgamesh questioned as he wiped a light sheen of sweat from his forehead.
“You did great. Your attunement is fire, from the looks of it,” Hammer Strike replied with a smile.
“How could you tell that f-from me making orbs of e-elements?”
“Speed and power consumption,” Hammer Strike replied. After noting the confused look on Gilgamesh’s face, he continued. “When you were making the orb of fire, it took slightly less time, and the drain of energy was less than the other orbs by a margin.”
Gilgamesh looked to his hands for a moment before trying to make another ball of fire. After creating it, he produced an orb of earth. Over the course of half an hour, he produced and dissipated these orbs back and forth, until he finally began to notice a difference.
“I-I think,” he took a breath, “I think I’m s-starting to get it,” he commented, looking over his hands once again.
“Do be careful,” Hammer Strike warned. “Fire is quite a tricky one to work with, as it can just as easily hurt you if you aren’t careful. Though, I’m sure you already have heard the warnings from Clover.”
“E-each element is dangerous in its own right, some more so than o-others. Thus, we must respect b-boundaries that are in p-place and work with them,” Gilgamesh quoted, most likely from Clover’s classes, if Hammer Strike had to guess.
“Correct.” Hammer Strike smiled. “You learn quickly, when it comes to mental activity,” he noted afterwards.
“I-it’s easier for me to remember things, but I j-just can’t put them into action s-sometimes.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a workaround for that,” Hammer Strike reassured him. “Come now. I’m sure Clover will be glad to hear you’ve passed over the hurdle in your path.
Gilgamesh gave a smile. “I just wish it didn’t take as long as it did for me to grasp this.”
“Everyone has a topic that eludes them.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “Give it time and study, and I’m sure you’ll manage issues such as these just fine. Just remember that, sometimes, you’ll have to think outside of the box compared to those around you.”
“That’s fair.” Gilgamesh nodded as the two left the practice field together.
Vital Spark smiled as he trotted into the Cakes’ bakery. “Hello, Mrs Cake!” he greeted the blue mare with a cheerful smile. “Is Pinkie in today? I want to bake a rush order.”
“You don’t even have to ask, dearie. She’s in the back.” The mare giggled as she tended to the customers with a tray of goodies.
“And now I'm here!” Pinkie said. “What can I do for you, Vital Spark? More wedding cake? A giant banana cream pie that you can swim in? A poundcake ship to sail across it? Ooh, ooh, ohh! We can call it a sugar beach party!”
In order, Vital Spark was first startled into letting out an undignified whinny, followed shortly by needing to back away from the exceptionally wide grin that Pinkie was currently directing his way. “Um, no, thanks, Pinkie. I was just wondering if you could maybe cook up a batch of inspiration cupcakes?”
“Hmm.” Pinkie rubbed her chin suspiciously with a hoof. “Just how much inspiration are we talking here?”
“Just enough to get the gears turning. The person I had in mind already has plenty of creative juice.”
“Oh, good. I thought I was gonna have to door hop through peoples’ dreams again. Do you have any idea how hard it is to harvest inspiration when you have an id to deal with? I have to bribe them with like … a gazillion sugar bombs. A gazillion!”
“... And suddenly, I’m not so surprised at the Cakes’ raving success. Or the odd cravings I’ve had for sweets.”
Pinkie shrugged. “It’s a gift.” Then she handed him a to-go box filled with a dozen cupcakes covered in sprinkles that shimmered like the night sky, then blossomed into a rainbow. “So, what are they for?”
“A way to say thanks to Rarity. I wanted to ask her for help gathering some important gems for a ritual I need to perform.”
“Pshaw,” she said and waved a hoof negligently. “You don’t need Rarity for that. I happen to know the very best Pony for the job, and I can get her down here any time.”
“You can?” Vital asked.
“Sure. I’ve been meaning to get her down here for a while, anyway, to meet the girls. This’ll just make a good excuse.”
“Excuse?”
Pinkie’s hair deflated slightly. “Her boss … doesn’t like pointless trips.”
“And seeing a friend is a pointless endeavor?”
“It is, when that friend is me.” She smiled wanly, then perked up again. “But with you here, it’ll be like business. And then she can hang out with me and the girls after, and nobody gets in trouble! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Vital Spark!”
“Uh….”
“I’ll write her a letter right now!” She was gone in a flash, then zoomed back just as quickly. Her body shook like a spring as she gradually straightened, then snatched a cupcake for herself and hastily stuffed it in her face. “Gonna need that. The rest are on the house!” And with that, she was gone again.
“... Okay, so now what do I do with these?” Vital asked.
Nobody answered. After all, that was just Pinkie being Pinkie. It wasn’t any of their business.
The Thestral Colony was an oddity, with two clearly different designs: the thick stone walls of Dwarven design surrounding the second layer of the city with a single gatehouse connecting the main roadway into the city. A flat well-trodden side road led toward the Thestral Lodge. A pony-high stone wall wrapped in a square around the structure, with four stone balls portraying the main phases of the moon mounted at each corner. A modest garden filled the space between the constructs, filled with a blend of flowers designed for the day and the night to provide equal beauty while retaining a modest space.
A storehouse had been built a short distance from the lodge with a smokehouse a few feet away to help cure any spare meat for future use or sale. The harsh smell of chemicals carried briefly on the wind as the last fumes from the tannery’s work were dispelled. The Residential buildings circled the lodge and were mostly wooden structures built with just enough space for ponies to walk the lanes between. Two of the structures were in the beginning stages of renovation to incorporate stone into the work for a sturdier build. Two Ponies: one a Thestral and one a Pegasus, trotted slowly to the opening in the wall. The former wore an eye patch. The latter had a pure white mane and tail.
“You have an unusually large plot of land here,” Nightshade noted as he finished observing the settlement, then looked at his clipboard. “What kind of taxes does the colony end up paying?”
“We’re paying a 7.5 percent flat tax until everything is fully settled with Lord Hammer Strike.”
“Your airships are a little too well armed for merchant standards,” Nightshade said as he pointed to the shadows in the distance. “You’ll have to restrict the weapons to regulation numbers.”
“Restrict?” Pensword asked. “I wasn’t aware of the issue. I’ll make sure to have them up to code as soon as possible.”
“And have you gained permission for the armed guards in your colony?”
“They’re waiting for the next transport home. We’ve been on a slow withdrawal, just in case anything more pops up after the last attack. According to Article Ten, Section Four in regulation, we’re actually six months ahead of the maximum time table listed.”
Nightshade gave a curt nod. “Good. We wouldn’t want to do anything to give the wrong image. This may be your colony, but the land is Hammer Strike’s, after all.”
“Of course.” Pensword looked over the roads. The late afternoon sun streamed gold over the structures in a dance of light and shadow. Thankfully, that meant the pair were left to their own devices for now, until the other Thestrals woke for their evening and nocturnal activities.
“Later on, smiths will be arriving to work on getting you used to the new standard Princess Luna has determined for our people.”
“Of course. They can set up either with the other Blacksmiths with Lord Hammer Strike or we can rig up a temporary forge for their use. How many smiths should we be expecting? I’ll have to alert Hammer Strike, so we can plan accordingly.”
“Fifteen or so. I’ll be informing Lord Hammer Strike personally.”
“Roger,” came the reply
“Very well. Let’s carry on,” Nightshade said, motioning for Pensword to lead the way.
Pensword nodded curtly and motioned with a wing. “This way, Sir.”
“So…” Grif chuckled awkwardly under Avalon’s gaze. “Triplets. That was a surprise, huh?”
“It would seem the Winds want to make sure we have four as soon as possible,” she said urbanely. “I’m still going to make you carry me when I get too big to move.”
“And here I was going to order you your own little cloud to move around on.” He smiled as he hugged her gently. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Are you sure you’ll be able to say that when my mood swings kick in?” she teased.
“You mean like the non-existent ones you had with Tazeer?” he asked.
“That was one baby. This is three.” She kissed him sweetly, even as a negligent wave of her hand sliced a timberwolf in half with a blade of wind.
“And? Admit it. You’re excited.” Grif waved a wing, turning another wolf into kindling. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Avalon smirked. “Never.” She sighed happily as a burst of wind threw several pairs of glowing red eyes against the gnarled trees of the wood. Many a startled squawk reached their ears, followed by silence. “The animals are rather lively tonight, aren’t they?”
“Seems so.” Grif nodded. “Might have to get a party together and thin them out some.”
“Or you can just talk with Hammer Strike and let El Fluffy blow off some steam with Sylvio’s pack.”
“That's true.” Grif laughed. “You speak about mood swings, but last time you were pregnant, there was only one effect on your moods that stood out.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “And we both really enjoyed those moods.”
Avalon shuddered. “Tease. That’s not fair.”
“I don’t have your looks. Teasing’s the only card I have to play.”
“If we weren’t dealing with fauna trying to kill us, I’d show you who’s got the real smart mouth.” She smirked. “But for now, I suppose I’ll settle with a little exercise.”
“I love you,” Grif said as he kissed her gently before turning back to their current opponents.
“So, how much do you want to bet on a hydra spicing things up?”
“I don’t make stupid bets.” Grif laughed.
“Not even for a pretty lady like me?” She gasped. “How scandalous.” Then she laughed.
“Would you bet against me at the Equestria games?” Grif returned.
“I don’t know. I’ve seen what Genevieve can do….”
“She’s not fencing.” Grif chuckled. “Otherwise, I might be in trouble.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I suppose I’ll have to wager something special, won’t I? I wonder, what would do as a suitable reward?” She purred and rubbed against him. “Any ideas?”
“Oh, I'm sure you’ll think of something.” He laughed.
“We can talk details on our way back. Oh, and maybe what color to paint the children’s rooms. They won’t be sleeping with us forever, you know.”
“Yeah, it's about time the girls should have their own rooms.” He nodded. “Come on. Let’s get home.”
A series of piercing roars and reptilian shrieks rang through the air, shaking the trees and frightening the lesser predators away.
“Hydra.” Avalon grinned viciously as the wind gathered around her talons. “I bucking called it.”
Big Guns snorted the sweat from his nose as he laid up the battle axe from the day’s sparring session. His tendrils had regained their dark red color and grown into a series of interwoven braids that could shift at his will, as the two had discovered one morning in a particularly brutal fight. He plunged a ladle into a nearby water barrel and doused his head to revitalize his mane and help ward off the absorption of the sun's rays on his black fur. Then he took a drink for himself.
“That was incredible!” He grinned at the tall blue steer who smiled proudly in turn and nodded gently.
“Iron Will sees you’ve made significant progress. You’re a different bull than when he first laid eyes on you.”
“Thanks to your training. You do a great job as a coach. It kind of makes me wonder, though. Why did you decide to come here to Equestria when there are others you could train back at the Stampede Grounds?
“Iron Will was in the area.”
“I meant with the whole program you started for Ponies being more assertive. I heard what happened from some of the other troops. What made you leave the Stampede Grounds to come here and start something like that up in the first place?”
Iron will shrugged. “There are many who can train the young in the Stampede Grounds. Iron Will was seeking his own path. Ponies needed help, and Iron Will needed money to send home. It seemed a fair trade.”
“No other reasons?”
“Not really. Of course, the chance to meet and train a new Minotaur was unexpected. Perhaps that is why Iron Will felt the need to come to Equestria.” He smiled again and lifted the barrel to drink directly from the source. Once he drank his fill, he lowered the container to the ground again and sighed in satisfaction. “But now Iron Will’s job is done. You aren’t a greenhorn anymore, Big Guns. You’ve learned to fight, to handle the instincts, and to be your own bull. Iron Will has taught you all there is to teach.”
“Wait, what do you mean done? I’m hardly past the basics for handling a warhammer!”
Iron Will laughed and shook his head, then smacked Big Guns familiarly on the back.“That’s a good one! No, Big Guns has all the knowhow he needs. All you have to do now is practice. Iron Will has already discussed the details with Hammer Strike. He’ll be leaving at the end of the month.” He smirked. “After all, you’re one of Iron Will’s most successful Pony clients. Now Iron Will can help other Ponies even more.”
Big Guns laid a burly arm around Iron Will’s shoulders. “In that case, then Big Guns thinks it’s time for a meal first, then maybe a wrestling match after.” He smirked. “If I’m going to lose my teacher, you can bet I’m going to make every last second count.”
The big blue Minotaur smiled. “Iron Will would expect nothing less.”
“Hello?” Grif eyed his surroundings with confusion. Everywhere he looked, obsidian walls greeted him. The floor beneath him, even the roof was obsidian, leaving little to no light. Even his Gryphon night vision had trouble picking things out. Over the next few minutes that felt like hours, his eyes began to pick up small details drawing a rough image of what he was staring at. A dais seemed to rise from the floor in front of him. Four pillars erupted from the raised surface. Each was obsidian, but pulsed with a blue light that showed the etchings of the winds across the dark surface.
There was a burst of purple flames as chains of ebony seemed to burn into existence around the pillar and inwards. In the center of the pillars, the purple flames conglomerated into a massive fireball. And at its center was a sphere formed of the same ebony chains. They rattled and shrieked as whatever lay within fought for freedom.
We know you are there! The voice was like a whisper, comforting, yet dreadful. It held the edge of the last breath of a dying Gryphon and the first breath a cub takes. We see your soul. We feel our touch already. Come closer. Let us caress you!
Grif took an involuntary step back. “Where am I? What are you?”
Feel privileged, child. For few can claim to have seen the elder gleam with their living eyes. As for my identity? Well, surely you know that. After all, you have so frequently called upon my power. The voice chuckled. In Grif’s head. And I, of course, willingly gave it. For who of the winds could deny our most favored child? Our precious avatar.
“Why am I here?” Grif asked.
Only the soul of a god can see this plane. The soul of a god or the soul of one who may yet achieve a greatness surpassing all others. You have been brought here to release us.
“Why would I ever release you?”
The voice was surprisingly calm, despite the struggle that raged within the confines of its prison. Our anger has cooled in the past millennia. We have finished our grieving and wish to prepare a place for our siblings. It was we who looked after our children when our siblings were so ungratefully cut from you. Give us our freedom and the second born shall once more rise to greatness.
“Why should I believe you?” Grif gave a dry laugh. “If what you say is true, then when the Winds return, they will look after you.”
Our brother, he of the North Wind, of war and rage, and the one who drives ever forward, he has not forgiven us. He will not visit us, and we will never be free if it is his choice. The task must be yours, Avatar. The voice paused, as if to gather its thoughts. But your doubt is understandable. It is clear that you do not trust us. You are angry with us for what we have given to you. But you are the one who asked. You are the one who opened that door. We simply answered your call.
The time will come where you You will seek our power again soon enough, and we shall bargain with you then for our release. For now, we offer a gift in good faith. Your prey, the shade, rears his head and will soon be made known to you. He consorts with powers still yet beyond your ability. When you are in need, you will return to us, and we will be waiting to prove ourselves again.
“Sombra? He’s moving? Where is h—?” Grif was cut off as the darkness consumed him. He woke on his bed, panting heavily. He examined his surroundings, and his eyes adjusted to the room quickly as he did so.
Two inquisitive eyes blinked in the darkness as Tazeer raised his head to peer at his father. His head cocked as he took in the Gryphon’s shape.
“Hey, buddy.” Grif gave a somewhat forced grin as he patted his son’s head. “Hope I didn't wake you.”
Tazeer shook his head, and his feathers rustled silently. He slid stealthily from under his mother’s wing and approached his father, then laid a taloned hand against his chest, followed by a brief nuzzle and a quiet purr as he curled up between his father’s forelegs.
Grif found himself calming down between the purring of his son and the sound of his heartbeat. The older Gryphon’s own heartbeat gradually slowed. Curling his talons protectively around the cub, he laid his head down beside Tazeer. Within a few minutes, sleep managed to find him again. A good, deep sleep.
A slow and gentle round lulled its way through the air as Vital Spark played his bow over the strings. He sighed forlornly and allowed the magic to slowly ebb as he played a final chord to end the song, then returned the instrument to its case. Then he approached the large bookshelf that held all his and Trixie’s reference tomes, including those borrowed from Clover for the sake of class assignments.
“Let’s see. Ancient Defenses, a treatise in Lay Lines and their Potential to Power Wards. Then there’s Mamonga’s reference guide to incursions. His dungeon crawling chapters will probably prove particularly useful.” He tapped his chin in thought as he levitated the volumes in question onto a large desk and peered over each of the spines. “Now what else…?” He smacked his forehead. “Of course, I’ll need books on magical excavation and archaeology. How could I be so dense?”
Aria chirped and whistled.
“Yes, I know it was an obvious choice.” He sighed. “Trying to prepare for these kinds of things always puts me on edge.”
The bird flew over and alighted on top of the magically compressed shelving unit. She cocked her head in question and whistled as she twisted it back and forth.
“Because something inevitably goes wrong every single time something like this comes up. The best-laid plans get thrown out the window, and then we have to improvise with whatever we have on hoof. It twists my stomach in knots just thinking about it.”
Aria whistled two notes, the first an octave lower than the second that then slurred a third lower at the end.
“Nah. Can’t tell anyone else about it. It’s top secret. If the wrong ears were to hear what we’re doing, it’d be a mess, and quite possibly a bloodbath. Nobody wants that.”
The phoenix glided onto Vital’s shoulder and ran her beak comfortingly through his mane.
“Thanks. I’d feel a lot more confident if I had some contracted spirits and deities to help back us up. You know, as a last resort, just-incase kind of thing.” He sighed and levitated another tome off the shelf. A second zap from his horn easily marked it with a rune, and a third shrunk it down to the size of a piece of candy. “Intermittent to Advanced Healing Spells, courtesy of Aqua Viva.” He frowned and levitated another text. “Survival in the Barren Wastes by Lean Strider.” He hesitated briefly, then levitated four more identically bound books. “Volumes one through five.”
This time Aria pecked her partner on the head and chirped in annoyance.
“Yes, I know I’m starting to sound like Twilight, okay? I just want to be able to build off the knowledge I gained in Zebrica. As Grif and Clover both would say, hope for the best, but plan for the worst.”
Aria rolled her eyes.
“Oh, so you’re saying you don’t want me to come home in one piece?” Vital countered.
The phoenix squawked her outrage at the sentiment and drew up her plumage as the temperature around her dropped.
“Relax, Aria. I’m only teasing.” Vital smiled and dropped the books to join its fellows in his satchel. “I know how much you care. It’s why you’ve always been so honest with me about overpreparing in the first place. Then again, that could also have to do with your relatively young age.”
Aria stuck out her tongue at him and alighted on her perch to preen her feathers again.
Vital chuckled. “Well, excuuuuuuse me, princess.” He smiled as he resumed his search. “Now where did I put that book on elemental manipulation?”
Pensword sat down to his desk, and was surprised to see a few Gryphons waiting for him. Dakota was keeping them in line. A smile crossed the commander’s face as he noted the beaks that laid on his desk. It appeared the payments for his past services were finally coming through.
A series of letters from various Gryphon families laid on his desk. This gave Pensword pause. Why were Gryphons writing to him as well? Were these letters that he was to convey to the spirit realm somehow? Did the Gryphons wish to use him as a two-way meditator? Frankly, he didn’t even know if his ability worked that way. He would have to look into that later. Dakota would likely have the answer. Right now was the time to tend to the souls.
A Gryphon dressed in armor that looked more out of a museum placed him from an era closer to the Second Gryphon War. His request was surprisingly straightforward. “Do not answer any letters begging of you to try to introduce them to Avatar Grif in hopes of seeing the Khopesh. You have no authority to answer or grant such letters.”
Pensword looked aghast at the envelopes. They may as well have been coated in poison. “If that’s what these letters are about, you have my promise I will not act on them. To do such a thing would be akin to Thestrals asking Grif if they could see a lost treasure of ours, were Grif the one to recover it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll open them to peruse the contents. If any bear such requests, you have my assurance they’ll be forwarded to Grif to deal with. I have no desire to meddle in such things. Faust and Slephnir know I’ll just get tangled up with your kind again eventually.”
“Know your place,” the spirit broke off for a moment as he bit the first word back. “Pony.” it appeared this Gryphon had decided to grant Pensword the distinction of a more equal role, rather than the usual racial slur. Given the effort required to curb that particular habit, it seemed only fair to offer more civility in turn.
“So, to whom do I need to address this letter?” Pensword asked.
“To Grif.”
“Okay.” Pensword pulled parchment and inkwell to him. “How do you want to begin?”
“To my Grandson’s Grandson. I wish to convey how you have brought great honor to our house.” He paused as he Pensword snapped his quill and gawked at the Gryphon.
Pensword cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure as he fished for a new quill. “Forgive me. Your claim of lineage took me by surprise. Still, it does beg the question. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be flying on the winds by now?”
The spirit sighed. “As a chick, I made a foolish oath that I would not rest until the khopesh was found. It seems that the Winds allowed an unorthodox means of fulfillment. I wish to congratulate my grandson and warn him of the dangers that those of not just Gryphon but Ponykind will present in their efforts to wield such a historic artifact. You know how far our culture has fallen. There are factions in the Empire who would see that weapon in Pony lands an affront to our culture and history, even if the Avatar wields it. And there are those in your noble courts who would deem the return of our gods a serious threat to their dominance and superiority, both magically and technologically.”
Pensword nodded. “Okay, then. This changes things. Family and emergency information discou—”
“I will pay in full.” The tone brooked no argument. “This will be my only letter.”
This time, Pensword’s upset led to a spilled inkwell. He sighed as he doused the substance with the sand dispenser to absorb the extra contents and dry the paper before he removed it and laid a fresh piece of parchment over the table. A fresh quill and inkwell soon followed, and he began the letter anew.
The missive was lengthy in its wording and details. After nearly an hour dictating the whole message, he finally rolled the scroll and prepared the wax that would seal the message. The warrior smiled as the deed was done, and started to fade as a breeze swirled around the room to rustle parchments. Grif’s grandfather’s grandfather had finally moved on.
Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he turned over a knife in his hooves, studying the blade to ensure it was aligned properly. After visiting Manehattan and finding more of Silent Collectors allies, he felt it was finally time to gear them up and send them out accordingly.
Silent Collector used knives, which was certainly easy for Hammer Strike, since he had made plenty for Grif and others, mostly Grif. Oracle was an intel gatherer, and refrained from fighting when possible. Feline strangely used a whip, which was a little outside of his usual metalworking, but the experience of making something different was well worth it in his eyes. Inari used a katana, and while Hammer Strike knew the process, he disliked the process, due to the length of time needed to create one of good quality. Stormwall Breaker, interestingly enough, prefered more hoof-to-hoof-oriented combat, and seemed comfortable with weighted gauntlets.
To say their list of equipment was interesting was one way of putting it.
Though they had magic, it appeared that most of them lacked any form of combat magic training or were simply making it up as they went on in the past. Hammer Strike frowned to himself as he placed the knife down and began working on the wrap.
“Perhaps I could discuss things with Clover,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that, Sir?” Dross Caster asked as she turned from her current duty.
“Nothing.” Hammer Strike waved her off. “I’m just thinking aloud. Still not used to there being anyone else in here. Speaking of which,” he directed his attention toward her, “how are the blades coming along?”
“The materials you gave me are being temperamental, but I think I finally got the blend right this time around.”
“Good. Once you’ve got that down, we can start looking into furthering your training.” He hummed to himself. “Perhaps I’ll let you pick something you’ve wanted to learn this time.”
Caster blushed. “Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, I’d … like to try forging a better version of my weapon.”
“It’s been some time since I made a good mace.” He chuckled. “Sure, I’ll make a few tonight to ensure I’ve still got it perfectly committed to memory.”
Dross Caster grinned in delight.
Pensword knocked heavily on the great doors to Grif’s new home. He looked about at the first signs of carvings and reliefs into walls of this future fortress. He had the sealed letter for him, as well as a few letters that he knew Grif would get to the needed places, all he needed to do was wait for Grif or one of his wives to answer the door.
Grif answered the door a few minutes later. “Pensword? Whats up?”
“Uh, I have a scroll for you, from your great great grandfather. He insisted on paying the full price.” He passed the scroll’s container over. “Giving you some kudos for finishing his quest for him, and some warning.” Then he passed another satchel. “These are to be delivered through your network, warnings mainly to stop plots against you, and to maybe wait two generations before trying to marry into your flock. The Grandmother told me I could tell you that tidbit.” The way he spoke it was very, business as usual, even if he was delivering scrolls from the dead. “Also, can you check up on the Redtail flock? They’re a month overdue on paying me for six scrolls.”
“I’ll send a messenger.” Grif nodded as he collected the documents. “Your sure about the great grandfather thing? I’m an orphan, Pensword. As far as culture goes, they shouldn’t even want to acknowledge me.”
“He is the one that sired the direct line that eventually birthed your father,” Pensword replied. “Also, you allowed him to finally get the rest he so desperately sought by fulfilling his oath. You also are the holder of the khopesh. Gryphon Culture will have me as a footnote, if that. They will see you as the Avatar who brought back the Gods. Something like that far overshadows that small detail that you were an orphan.” He smirked. “Maybe more orphans will be adopted on the off chance they bring as much honor as you have created for your new clan.” He shrugged. “But with how much glory and honor you’ve bathed your feathers in, the spirits, at least, are acknowledging your status.” He paused for a time and tapped his chin in thought. “Then again, what do I know?”
“They call it glory. I call it blood.” Grif sighed. “But I suppose it can't hurt to read it later.” He shook his head. “When the hell did I get wrapped up in politics? I’m a fighter, not a diplomat.”
Pensword snorted in laughter. “Whatever you say, Bones.” He fought to wipe the smile off his muzzle. “I’m a Bat Bird, and look at what happened to me. I think Faust has need of those not born into politics.”
“Bones?” Grif raised an eyebrow.
“Dr. Lenord McCoy, from Star Trek. ‘Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor not a bricklayer’” Pensword quoted, hoping to jog Grif’s human memory.
“Never was one for the original series, Pensword.” Grif chuckled. “Kirk was too cavalier with his people's lives for my liking.”
“And my favorites were Sisko, Kirk, Picard, Janeway,” Pensword responded. “Seems the Federal Government gave me a First Contact human TV culture collection. I have all the old Star Trek Series from Enterprise to Voyager. Come on by and we’ll have a TNG party.” He paused. “Oh, let me know of any old TV series you want me to gather. I’ve been writing down a list to add next time we’re on Earth again.”
“I have everything I need.” Grif chuckled.
“Oh? Do you have Due South or Red Green?” Pensword asked hopefully.
“I am Canandian. Is that even a question?”
“Swing by with some of them. I remember being a foal watching it on PBS. It’ll be fun to watch again. Maybe we’ll get some ideas to do around New Unity.” He chortled with glee.
“I’ll do that.” Grif chuckled in return. “Anything else you need?”
“Not really, but we should plan out some time to just hang out and spend some time, because after the next set of foals are born, it’s going to be a bit busy. We live in the same town in flying distance. We should spend more time together.” He paused as a conspiratorial grin crossed the muzzle, “We need to get Hammer Strike to see some of these as well, just have a guy’s night out or something.”
“We’ll see how it goes.” Grif chuckled again. “I’ve got a few kids coming soon, too,” he noted.
“Very true,” Pensword quipped back. “We should plan it sooner, rather than later.”
“All right, fillies, listen up!” Grif stood in front of a large gathering of troops. They were varied in species and branch, but all held one uniting factor. “You’re all here because you put your name forth and proved yourselves capable enough to represent New Unity in the Equestria games. This is to be considered your forward briefing on events that are coming up in regards to that.” He eyed them carefully. Normally, this would be Blast and Tower’s jobs, but as neither had put their names forward for the games, the duty fell to Grif as the highest ranking member of Hammer Strike’s court who would be participating.
“Next week, we will be boarding a train to take to Rainbow Falls, where we will be participating in the qualifiers for the various events that each of you was found suitable for.” Grif pulled an eepee from his side. Hammer strike had not been entirely thrilled about making the weapon, and Grif admittedly understood his feelings. The weapon, if one could truly call it that, only held the outlier of lethal ability by design, lacking edges or a point. The only way Grif could see it doing anything meaningful would be to snap it in two and impale it through the eye. Either way, he held it aloft.
“As you know I will be representing us for fencing, so I want you all to do the smortsmanly thing and pray for the poor souls who end up against me.” The comment received a good round of chuckles. “As for the rest of you, I will not say I expect great things from any of you.” This led to looks of anger, sadness, and confusion for a few minutes before he continued. “I don’t expect great things, because I know you will all be great. To expect implies a degree of doubt, and I have no doubt that win, lose, or draw, each and every one of you will prove themselves worthy to follow the banner we have all worked so hard for. Be you in the military or civilian games, I know each of you will give Lord Hammer Strike your all. I will not offer you threats or bribe you with prizes. All I do is state the facts to you.”
Grif sheathed the eepee in a fluid motion. “Every one of you will be receiving double pay for the days in the qualifier and during the games, regardless of if you qualify or not. Lord Hammer Strike has also generously made preparations for travel, housing, and the entrance fee to the families of any of you who wish to attend the games. Should you become unwell or injured during the games, your medical expenses will likewise be covered by Hammer Strike’s own funds. We have contracted several counselors and therapists of various types. Feel free to make use of them whenever they are free, up until the games. The only way in which your benefits could be stripped is if you should be caught using any kind of unfair play. But I know you all are far too honorable for that. That being said, we will all be submitting to regular tests for substances and spells until the games are completed. Anyone who objects to this should leave now.”
No soldier moved. They stood staring ahead with emotions mixed, but generally positive.
“Very well. You are all dismissed. No drills or duties for the rest of the day. You all report here at 08:00 tomorrow to begin going over preparations for what's to come. Go, eat, sleep. I want to see you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Grif offered a Rohirrim salute and the various soldiers each responded with their own salute before dispersing.
Vital Spark smiled as he drank calmly from the steaming cup provided courtesy of Octavia as they sat by the small table in her side of the studio. “Thank you for the tea.”
“Of course.” Octavia smiled as she poured her own cup. “Now, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me?”
“Well, to be blunt, Octavia, it’s about the orchestra’s musical arrangements. We’ve been playing classical pieces like waltzes and rondos and the like, but there are so many other kinds of music out there that we can try, pieces that I think can set us apart from the usual crowds.”
The mare sipped her tea carefully. “Such as?”
“Well, country, for one.” Tea splattered the thin shield the Unicorn had raised in anticipation of the reaction as Octavia choked and sputtered.
“Country. In a recital hall?”
“Well, you already have pop music and techno for different artists and stages, and I know that most musicals generally use scores that aren’t strictly classical in nature, or at least not in the traditional sense. But it seems like that’s about all you ever try to stick to when you’re working with the orchestra. I asked around with the other players, and they were just as stumped as I was. Is there a reason why you haven’t tried branching out with us? I mean, you collaborate with Vinyl on a regular basis, and that’s far from traditional, so why can’t we do the same?”
“Because—”
“I mean, think about it. We’d be a niche market. You could get so many more gigs this way, not just the nobility. You saw how everypony reacted to that music you played for the Ponytones at my wedding. Just imagine how all those other audiences would feel.”
“But that’s such a limited audience,” Octavia countered, once she’d gotten her breathing under control again.
“One that’s only going to get bigger and more diverse with every passing year,” Vital countered. “New Unity is being restored to its former glory, Octavia. That means that by the time Hammer Strike’s through with it, it’s going to become a bustling metropolis full of all manner of species and races from all walks of life.”
“But the nobles—”
“Won’t matter in the long run. You can make much more selling tickets to a broader audience than you would if you sought private gigs with the Canterlot nobility. I’ve heard what they can do under your leadership, Octavia. Heck, I’ve participated in it, myself. We can do this. At the very least, you can consider it as a means to help everypony relax and loosen up before we get into the other pieces, something just for fun, you know?”
“Such as?”
Vital levitated a score out from his satchel. “I thought we could start with a little something closer to your roots. Fiddlesticks is already on board to help train the other violinists, if you’re up for it. And I guarantee this piece will get peoples’ hearts rarin’ to go.”
Octavia shuddered. “Country?”
“This is a piece that I can guarantee has never been heard by a major audience, Pony or otherwise, in all of Equis. It’s fun, simple, and good for a smile. Just try it once. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”
Octavia raised a skeptical brow.
“As I said, it’s a short fun piece that shouldn’t impact the main production schedule. If the others enjoy it, too, then it could provide a new opening for everypony. Just look it over and give it a chance.”
Octavia’s hoof dragged the score reluctantly, then flipped the pages open. “I’ll consider it,” she finally allowed. “But I insist on being allowed enough time to review the material first.”
“Fine. But if you want to make any revisions or alterations, please make sure to do so on your own sheet music. This is the only copy I have.”
“A fair arrangement,” Octavia agreed as she put the book aside. “And now that that’s over and done with, we can get down to another matter I wanted to discuss.”
“Yes?”
“Vinyl and I are working on a piece that requires violin accompaniment. We were wondering if you might be interested in joining us for the collaboration.”
Unlike her guest, Octavia Melody did not have the benefit of a forcefield. She casually parted her sopping mane from over her face and said flatly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“So I assume you have gotten the correct licenses for your warehouses on both the local and national level?” Nightshade asked Pensword. “Copies weren’t in your documents.”
“I do. The files are in the New Unity archives and the Canterlot National Archives. I did include a note stating that I’m still waiting for my copies to be delivered,” Pensword replied.
“What about your food supply? Are you sustainable?”
“At the exact moment? Yes, but we are working to be ready for the population boom that’s coming in about a month. As for hunting, we’re working with the Gryphons to keep from overhunting the forest.”
“You have plans for walls or such marking your colony’s borders?” Nightshade inquired.
“Eventually, yes. I’m planning to work with the council and hold a contest on what type of wall, how high, that sort of thing. Try to get the whole community together for it.”
“Interesting choice.” Nightshade nodded. “I’ll have to talk to Lord Hammer Strike about a few issues. After that, I'll have my final assessments.”
Pensword nodded. “I understand. I look forward to hearing what your assessment will be.”