//------------------------------// // Chapter 15: Matters of Honor // Story: Contest of Champions // by thatguyvex //------------------------------// Chapter 15: Matters of Honor Within several hours the crowds of island visitors were corralled from the coliseum so that the monks of the Order could gradually reshape it for the purposes of the Contest of Wits, the day after the next. In the meantime the festival grounds enjoyed a robust surge of guests seeking relaxation and refreshment after the long day of matches they had witnessed. Many others returned to the town of Heroes Rest for dinner at the town’s numerous restaurants, or simply turned in early at their respective inns. For the champions, the monks threw together an expansive meal in the monastery’s main hall, allowing those who’d fought to replenish their energy and take a well deserved break. While every champion was invited to the dinner, there were some who preferred to retire to their own rooms. Trixie and Raindrops attended the dinner together, while Lyra stuck with Bon Bon, and Carrot Top decided to join Frederick and the other cervids at their table. Cheerilee went to crash early at their room, but told the other mares she’d check in on how Princess Luna was doing with Ditzy before calling it a night. Abbess Serene had given a brief speech, thanking the champions for their continued displays of prowess and her heartfelt hope that the best was yet to come, but Trixie hadn’t paid the elderly mare much mind, and once the speech was done the Abbess had gone off somewhere to tend to further Contest preparations. Presently, Trixie was ravenously assaulting a poor, defenseless plate of exceptionally seasoned salad and enjoying some rather finely aged wine as she quietly told Raindrops about what she’d seen with Lo Shang and Tomoko. “Not sure I see anything to be concerned with, Trixie,” Raindrops said, popping some manner of cheesy delectable into her mouth from another plate, keeping her own voice low, just in case of eavesdroppers, “I mean, they’re brother and sister-” “Adopted, technically,” Trixie pointed out, and Raindrops rolled her eyes. “Fine, adopted, but still siblings. What’s weird about them talking with each other?” “It's not that they were talking, it was that they felt the need to go hide out in some side tunnel beneath the coliseum in the middle of the matches to talk that seems strange. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I could tell it was something serious. Not just shooting the breeze or making a friendly bet on who’d win the Contest.” Raindrops paused, considering, “Okay, fine, slightly suspicious, but that conversation could have been about anything as innocent as deciding what to get Dao Ming as a gift if she won the final match, or literally anything else. Why suspect it has anything to do with the conspiracy against the Contest?” “Because we’re short on leads and I’m feeling desperate?” Trixie admitted with a side snort, munching furiously on a crouton, “Back in Oaton we at least knew who to investigate, but here there’s such a wide list of suspects it’s rather maddening. At this point I’ll take what I can get.” “Personally I think we need to relax,” said Raindrops, “We can’t search the whole island, or expect things to just fall into our lap. There’s still three days left in the Contest, and quite frankly there’s ponies more qualified than us already searching around, or have you forgotten about the Shadowbolts?” Trixie huffed, glancing up at the shadows around the main hall’s vaulted ceiling, “Yes, point taken, but given they apparently haven’t found anything yet, I’m not holding my breath. Whoever is plotting against us must be some kind of mastermind to avoid detection thus far-” ---------- “Aaachoo!” the hooded figure sneezed, wiping at its nose for a moment. “Are you well?” asked the other hooded figure, barely illuminated by a faint glow of flickering and pulsing green and blue light stemming from the ground, “We can resume work on the ritual later if you’re concentration is slipping.” “Never mind me,” said the other figure, placing a hoof on the ground before the edge of a vast magical circle, “Just too much dust down here, I suspect. Let us resume.” ---------- “-and we need to be excruciatingly vigilant if we’re going to find them,” Trixie said, eyes scanning the room, “We need to look for any inconsistencies, any tiny detail that might suggest who’s busy doing something they shouldn’t.” “Well, okay, but what qualifies as an ‘inconsistency’?” asked Raindrops, “There’s so many people here, you can’t possibly keep track of them all, and it’s not like we know anyone well enough to decide what might be abnormal with their behavior.” “Not entirely true,” replied Trixie, “We’ve gotten to know several people at the Contest quite well. You know those zebra, Carrot Top has gotten pretty familiar with the cervids, and Cheerilee certainly made an impact on the minotaurs.” “And you’ve got quite the rivalry going on with the kirin,” Raindrops concluded, “And Ditzy was getting to know that griffin champion pretty well before he did what he did to her. She knew something was up with him before the rest of us did.” “Yes, although he wasn’t trying to hide his twisted weirdness, that’s for certain,” Trixie said, idly waving her empty wine glass for one of the monks to come refill it. Once it was full and she could sip on it, she resumed her train of thought, “I think the reason I’ve honed in on Lo Shang and Tomoko talking like that is because they pointedly avoided saying what they were going to say in front of the Empress, which to me, says warning bells.” Raindrops saw what Trixie was getting at, and thought herself about what she knew about the zebra, “Well... there is something that’s been bothering me.” “Yes?” “Tendaji is a good fighter, but I honestly don't get why he was selected as a champion when it's pretty obvious his master, Nuru, is way stronger. I mean, you saw that duel between him and Kenkuro, right?” Trixie shrugged, “I suppose. It happened pretty fast.” “That’s not uncommon when you get two masters in the ring. Things either take forever, or are over in an instant. My point is that it just seems odd to me that Nuru would bring Tendaji along, especially since the only thing Tendaji wanted was to fight me, which he could have arranged in any number of other ways.” “So what are you suggesting?” Trixie asked, not doubting, just wanting to hear Raindrops’ logic train from her own mouth. “Only that you don’t bring an extra along unless you have a use for them,” Raindrops said, frowning, “Someone to take attention off you, maybe? I mean, where is Nuru right now?” That was a good question. A quick scan of the room showed that while Tendaji was at one of the tables with his wife Aisha, and the other zebra champion, Siwatu, the elder zebra Nuru was nowhere to be seen. “...Good point. Although he is rather old, so he could just have gone to bed.” “Hey, you’re the one who said look for inconsistencies,” Raindrops pointed out, and Trixie smiled at her with a nod. “I did, and I agree with you that it’s odd. Let’s add him to the list of people to keep an eye on. Although, speaking of missing persons, I don’t see any of the kirin here, either.” All it took was a casual glance to confirm Trixie was right, the entire Shouma delegation was absent from the hall, and they were a rather difficult bunch to miss, so Trixie knew she wasn’t just not seeing them among the crowd. Raindrops’ brow furrowed, “Okay, that’s odd.” “It could be nothing,” Trixie admitted, “Just like with Tomoko and Lo Shang’s talk. Still, I’m thinking I’d like to keep closer tabs on certain individuals. Whoever that individual Carrot Top and Frederick saw in dark robes the other day was, they can’t be in two places at once. These conspirators need to vanish for a time to do whatever it is they’re doing, so whoever isn’t here right this moment, is a suspect.” “But Trixie, that’s technically true at any other time, too,” Raindrops pointed out, “All of the conspirators might be here in this room, and anyone currently  missing is just missing for legitimate reasons we don’t know about.” “Yes, but blast it all, we have to start somewhere, so let’s make a note of whoever isn’t here currently, and at least try to keep an eye on them over the next few days.” Raindrops didn’t have any particular objections to the plan, and once they split up and spread the idea to Lyra and Carrot Top, making sure not to let slip to anyone else what they were saying, it didn’t take long for them to compile a list. As dinner was winding down, half an hour later, the four mares looked at each from across a table near one corner of the main hall.  “So aside from the whole Shouma party, we’re missing two cervids, Andrea and Sigurd. There’s Nuru from the zebra, Steel Cage from the minotaurs, and the weird minotaur seer lady, Greysight. Grimwald, duh, but also Gwendolyn and King Gruber weren’t here either. That’s everyone who was MIA from dinner,” said Lyra, glancing over a piece of paper she’d written the list on.  “I feel like we’re forgetting someone,” Trixie said, frowning at the list, tapping one hoof irritably on the table. “Who?” asked Carrot Top, giving a slight wave to Frederick from across the hall who was waving back at her, “Sorry guys, I might need to go soon. Frederick wants to go on beach stroll. There’s supposed to be a traditional Naqahn fire dance tonight.” Trixie glanced at her with a grumpy look, “Just don’t get too distracted. Anyway, I don’t know who, precisely, I just feel like we’re forgetting something. It’s one of those ‘hunches’.” Raindrops sighed, wings stretching, “We were pretty thorough Trixie. Aside from Corona’s party, which we’ve already pretty much decided to ignore this whole time, there’s nobody else to check. This hall was filled with everyone staying on the monastery.” Something inside Trixie’s brain was poking at her, but for all she tried, she couldn’t divine what was bothering her. Raindrops was right. Aside from the list they had, every other creature staying at the monastery was accounted for. So why did she have this overhanging sensation that they’d overlooked something?  “Is there anything more you mares would like to eat or drink?” asked a monk politely as he passed by their table, “Most the other guests have already retired.” “We’re fine, thanks,” said Carrot Top, pushing away from the table and trotting around it, “Anyway, you girls enjoy the rest of the night.” Lyra grinned at her, winking, “Enjoy your dashing Elkheim prince.” The farm mare shot a half-embarrassed, half-pleased smirk back at her friends, flicking her tail indignantly amid a blushing expression as she trotted off to meet Frederick across the hall, her steps light and bouncy like a school-filly’s. Trixie just shook her head in wonderment as her other friends all smiled. “Glad she’s having fun,” Lyra said to herself, then glanced to where Bon Bon had been patiently waiting nearby while she and the other Element Bearers had their ‘serious talk’. “Aaaand speaking of which, I’ve got some alone time to catch up on with my Bon Bon, so you two have a pleasant night and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which doesn’t cover very much, now that I think about it.” So Trixie and Raindrops were left sitting together once again, staring at each other from across the table. For a second neither talked, until Trixie awkwardly said, “Soooo, um... did you want to patrol the monastery with me? Look for more clues?” Raindrops raised an eyebrow at her, “Is this going to involve more breaking and entering?” “...It might,” Trixie admitted. After a moment’s consideration, Raindrops shrugged with her wings, “Sure, why not?” ---------- Lo Shang paced outside the granted quarters of the Imperial family with agitation in his every step. Two members of the Empress’ Jade Guard were posted outside the thick, double oak doors, silently staring ahead like statues cast from gold. Their lacquered armor didn’t so much as make a single restle or clink as Lo Shang paced by the guards. Oh, they’d never dream of preventing a member of the Imperial family such as himself from entering the chambers beyond, but from the muffled, but clearly risen voices beyond the doors, Lo Shang knew he couldn’t enter. Just pace. Which he continued to do so with growing fury and conflicted feelings. “It continues?” Tomoko’s soft voice reached him as she approached from down the corridor, her dark red coat and white scales shimmering under the hallway’s torchlight. Lo Shang noted she looked... tired. He imagined he didn’t look much better.  “It does,” he replied, shaking his head, then looked at her questioningly. “Where’s Xhua? Where you not able to find her?” “I have, and she is... indisposed,” Tomoko replied simply, and at Lo Shang’s look, she cleared her throat politely, “She is utilizing the ‘facilities’. Apparently some foreign snack she had during the matches does not agree with her.” “Oh...” he said, blinking, then shaking himself as he looked away, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like suspecting every shadow of hiding something.” Tomoko approached, and while politeness dictated she couldn’t simply comfort him, there was something akin to the sentiment of a gentle hoof on the shoulder in her voice. “It is your duty, as eldest brother, to look out for all of us, so I don't fault your vigilance. But try not to suspect Xhua of wrongdoing.” “She has been the most vocally against Dao Ming since the beginning, and I still cannot account for who I tracked into the woods the other day,” he said, grimacing at the memory. He’d nearly been caught himself, during that incident. He still didn’t know who else had been in those woods on the north side of the island, only that he hadn’t been alone there, and that whoever he’d initially followed there had to have been a kirin from the Shouma delegation. The hoof tracks had proven as much, although with the storm, those tracks would be long gone. “Concentrate on what I’ve asked of you,” Tomoko said, “Leave Xhua to Xhua. She’ll calm herself, once she understands Dao Ming is destined to be Empress, and ours is the place of supportive siblings.” “A fact I never doubted at all,” Lo Shang said with an honest chuckle, “Even as a child, she’d shown more talent than the rest of us. I’m little more than a thick headed warrior. You know politics, but cannot command a battlefield. Xhua is.. Xhua. It was always going to be Dao Ming. I just... wish the Empress could see it instead of...” he made a vague gesture towards the doors, where the voice rose to a shouting pitch, if still too indistinct to make out. Tomoko cast a glance at the doors and the guards. She and Lo Shang had been speaking in Equestrian, rather than Shouma’s native tongue, in order to keep the guards from understanding what might be considered an ‘inappropriate’ conversation. But now she switched to the Empire’s language as she addressed the guards, “My brother and I shall be entering the chambers. Do open the doors.” The guards, to their credit, only hesitated a moment before obeying an Imperial order. Strictly speaking the Empress hadn’t forbade them from allowing other members of the Imperial family through. They moved with mechanical precision, opening the doors and allowing Tomoko to lead a nervous Lo Shang into the well appointed chambers beyond... and right into the Empress’ regally booming voice. Fu Ling might not have been an alicorn, but when roused to anger her voice carried the clarion ring of a squadron of trumpets. “You will not make light of your position child! The Jade Throne cannot, will not be treated as a birthright!” While at its core the room was simply a spacious version of the utilitarian chambers common to the monastery, this one had been lavishly draped in the finery of the Empire. Silken carpets of scarlet interwoven with gold and emerald embroidery in the pattern of a radiant garden covered the stone floor. Similar tapestries painted the walls in spreads of glinting wealth. Not a single table, chair, or couch lacked adornments of gold or jade, with a large shrine to the spirits of Shouma dominated one side of the room, incense sticks burning and adding a smokey aroma to the chamber. The incense did little to calm attitudes, however. While Fu Ling was standing as tall as an emerald mountain, her golden head dress cresting her like the rising sun, Dao Ming stood before her mother like a defiant and steady ship cruising towards a typhoon. Standing a mere pace apart, it was almost striking the familial resemblance, despite Fu Ling’s charcoal black mane and tail in sharp contrast to Dao Ming’s shining gold locks. Yet their eyes, both set in equally angered glares, their stance, both proud and tall, visages cast in a determined clash of wills... none could deny Dao Ming was her mother’s daughter.  Even Dao Ming’s voice spoke with the authoritative clap of a future Empress, every bit a match for her mother’s. “I am treating nothing as a birthright. I am committed to taking my place as Empress when, and only when I have earned it by my own merits. What I will not tolerate is the insinuation that I have done anything less than give my greatest effort to that end. Just because I now choose this of my own will, and not to please you, gives you no right to insult me. By Heaven and Earth, mother, I will have a modicum of respect from you!” Fu Ling’s lips peeled back in a reflexive sneer akin to brandishing a dagger, “Demanding respect is the simplest way it slips out of one’s hooves, child. You expect accolades when losing to a scruffy, half-witted griffon, of all things!? The sheer embarrassment of witnessing my heir be humbled by a-” “By an honorable warrior whose prowess with a blade was second to none out of all the swordmasters I have ever faced, with the possible exception of Kenkuro himself!” Dao Ming spat back, mirroring her mother’s fierce visage, “And if I hear you refer to Gwendolyn Var Bastion in anything less than the respectful tone a warrior of her skill and stature deserves, we shall see how finely honed you’ve kept your sword skills, mother.” For a moment Fu Ling appeared too stunned to speak, her mouth just hanging there open for a long, stony second. Then her voice turned from the hot fury of a firestorm to the ice cold chill of a glacier. “You have no idea at all what I have endured as Empress, Dao Ming. You think this is a mere game we play? That once you sit the throne, that the Heavenly Empire will obey your will, follow your tune? Child, all I have ever sought to do is prepare you for the slaughter house that is our duty as Empress. The noble clans each vie for their own power, and are vigilant as hawks for weakness, especially from the throne. All it would take is one instant of indecisiveness, one moment of weakness, and our Empire could shatter and become as it was before it was unified... a hell hole of war and strife. And what then of the Dark Lands? Who would stop their encroachment if the Empire falls to internal bloodshed and conflict? Why do you think I have spent so much effort pushing you to be the best? For my amusement!? To hurt you!?” A voice of ice cracked into broken, quiet voice that showed the fear beneath the steel, “I have only one daughter, and I never expected to have that much, for how long I seemed barren. I will not let her be eaten alive by the wolves of our political system. I won’t let her be anything less than a survivor, because she is all I have! If you are to endure the weight of being Empress, your shoulders cannot be weak, they cannot even be of common honor and strength. Nothing less than perfection can survive as Shouma’s Empress.” It was Dao Ming’s turn to appeared stunned for an instant, but she recovered faster than her mother, her head shaking in a wave of golden mane, “Mother, there is no perfection. You alone prove that point. Do you think so little of me that you believe I don’t already know of the Empire’s ills or of how deadly the rivalries at court are? I fought in the Yellow Turban Rebellion when I was barely into my teens. I know what being Empress means. I wish you’d see I’m no child any longer, and that I don’t have to be ‘perfect’ to be worthy of taking on the duties I know I must. But I am done seeking your approval, mother. I do what I do now because it is my choice and no one else’s. Whether I win or lose the Contest no longer matters save for proving to myself what I already know I’m capable of.” “And what is that, child?” Fu Ling asked quietly, voice tired and bitter. “Being whatever I wish to be, whether that be Empress, or just Dao Ming.” A silence fell, until Fu Ling whispered, “Perhaps you will, but I am still Empress yet, and that will not change until I decide you are ready.” It was then that Tomoko rather loudly yet still with pitch perfect politeness cleared her throat. In another startling mirror of one another, Dao Ming and Fu Ling both gave nearly identical starts, whipping their heads around to stare at Tomoko and Lo Shang. Tomoko put on a winning, charming smile. “Deepest apologies, my Empress, Heiress. We did not wish to interrupt, yet felt compelled to intercede in case things became too... uncomfortably heated. Please accept our sincere regret if our presence is unwanted.” Fu Ling rapidly composed herself, like a castle regenerating its broken ramparts as she raised her head and said, “There has been nothing said here that is secret among those of our family. Dao Ming is being rebelliously willful in her manner, but given she’s taken up company with so many outside our culture, I should expect as much.” Dao Ming glared, but Lo Shang coughed nervously and said in a forcefully friendly tone, “Surely Dao Ming has a point that her performance, while not ‘perfection’, was nothing short of impressive. I doubt I’d have done nearly as well, and whacking things with a spear is what I’m best known for.” “Furthermore, while it may be true that other cultures lack our refinements,” Tomoko added, “One can’t fault Dao Ming for how swiftly she’s learned to make allies among the rival nations. The Griffin Kingdoms are among our most noteworthy trade partners overseas, and to earn honor among them by demonstrating her prowess while befriending one who will surely become a heroine of great repute among the griffins amply demonstrates Dao Ming’s skill in courtly matters.” Fu Ling looked between them both, then at a faintly blushing Dao Ming, and huffed out an almost ‘normal’ and undignified snort, “I’ve done this to myself, haven’t I? A rebellious daughter, a goof of an adopted son, and an adopted daughter with a tongue of gold. The irony is, between the three of you, you all might have the qualities to rule the Heavenly Empire. Such a shame the throne only seats one.” Tomoko bowed her head deeply, “None would dream to replace you so soon, Empress, while you still have many years ahead of you. However, you speak some wisdom in that, while Dao Ming shall one day succeed you, she shall have help in her loyal siblings. Shouma will survive, as shall she, of that I swear to you on my very soul.” Fu Ling gave her an odd look, but nodded, if barely, as she winced and turned towards Dao Ming. “This conversation has only given me more of a headache than I already had. Dao Ming, I won’t waste further words trying to impress upon you the importance of victory in the Contest. You seem determined to play your own game, here. So I am going to retire early this evening. Do as you will.” With that the Empress of Shouma gathered herself, and what pride and dignity she could muster, and strode towards her bedchamber in one of the adjoining rooms. Dao Ming watched her go, rigid for a moment, before exploding with a sigh as she nearly sank into one of the nearby chairs. “Dear spirits... that was... draining.” Lo Shang came up to her, looking exhausted himself, but wearing a happy smile as he inclined his head in a greeting bow to her, “To say the least! But I am proud of you, sister. I’ve never seen you speak for yourself towards the Empress in such a manner.” “Indeed,” said Tomoko, going over to a nearby case to remove cups for tea, proceeding to use her magic in a soft, golden aura to warm water and gently add the proper tea leaves, “You’ve grown up quite a bit, Dao Ming.” Dao Ming turned her head to give Tomoko a sardonic look, “Which seems to imply you thought I had some growing up to do.” Tomoko laughed as lightly as the tea leaves being sprinkled into the warming water, “You must admit, prior to your experiences here, especially in your time spent with that Trixie mare, you were a tad...” “Bratish?” Dao Ming supplied. “I was going to say ‘in need of maturing’. However I’m glad to see such changes in you. While the Empress may have a point that the position is not one any mere mortal can fill, I think she has long shorted you credit on your qualities for the throne. I believe by the end of this Contest... everything will be different.” Dao Ming gratefully accepted the tea Tomoko provided, and as her siblings sat down beside her and they enjoyed a quiet moment together, she wondered just how many more changes might be coming her way before the Contest of Champions was over. ---------- Gwendolyn had made a trudging march for her chambers almost as soon as she’d been able to break away from the returning crowd of champions, more than a few of which had been jostling her with praise for her victory in the Contest of Strength. Much as she inwardly felt a beaming flare of pride in her accomplishments (one she wasn’t even wholly certain she deserved), her mind couldn’t focus on that, and her body was exhausted from the day of rigorous physical strain. She wanted a bath and then a bed, although she wasn’t sure how well she’d sleep despite how tired she was. Her mind was surrounded by a miasma of dark thoughts on how to deal with King Gruber. She had to make her move soon, she knew. She could have challenged him straightaway, but decided against the idea. For one, she suspected her challenge would lead to a duel, and she was in no shape for fighting after the day she’d had. There was little doubt in her mind Gruber wouldn’t face her himself, but he’d likely choose her mother as his second. If Gwendolyn was going to beat Beatrice Var Bastion, it wouldn’t be now, drained to the point of collapse after a steady stream of fights. I can’t wait too long to swoop on my chance, either. Gruber has to know I’ve gained enough clout among the other champions to have backing when I challenge him. He probably suspects I know his plans already, otherwise he wouldn’t have pulled that stunt with the magic spear. Tomorrow morning. Early tomorrow morning, that’s when I’ll confront him. I’ll be rested enough to handle mother then, and it gives the other champions time to really think about what they saw me do today and which side they want to be standing on. Those were her thoughts as she made the slow walk to her quarters, a very quiet part of the monastery with so many champions attending that big dinner down in the main hall. Gwendolyn didn’t have an appetite, and just wanted to sleep. She’d grab something quick to bite after she woke up, then go deal with Gruber. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too late to reverse his orders to move those legions on the Border Kingdoms and get back to her Red Shields in time to stop a full-blown civil war. She opened the door to her quarters and went inside, and the moment she did her instincts told her something was wrong.  Perhaps had she been less exhausted, she’d have sensed the danger before opening the door, before going inside, but now that she was the door slammed shut behind her and figures moved towards her from the room’s darkened corners with shocking speed and efficiency. Gwendolyn’s sword sang free of its scabbard and she didn’t even look as she struck, hearing a muffled cry of pain from one of her assailants and a splash of warm blood splattered her face.  Steel whispered through the dark and Gwendolyn spun to parry, sparks flying from her sword meeting another, slimmer blade. More came at her, a veritable forest of swift jabs and cuts that Gwendolyn struggled to deflect. She was surrounded, cut off from escape, and taken off guard. Even at her best, fending off this many foes would have been a challenge. Her griffin eyes cut through the dark to show her winged forms; her assailants were also griffins, all clad in soot black clothing. She made a lunge for the one that had closed the door, and felt a pain surge through her heart as she recognized the sword that blocked her thrust. She caught the barest glimpse of her mother’s face in the darkness before the parry left her off balance and Beatrice countered with a blindingly swift pommel strike between Gwendolyn’s eyes. Skilled as she was as a warrior, exhaustion combined with the sudden ferocity of the ambush had left her vulnerable. Her mother’s presence was simply the unpleasant icing on this horrific cake, and Gwendolyn felt the world spin as she hit the floor, her sword clattering at her side. A rain of blows fell on her then. Thankfully not the sharp punctures of swords, but the hefty beating of fists and kicks that rendered her bruised, dazed, and helpless. “Ease up you fools,” her mother’s voice cut sharply, “If she dies, so do all of you.” Muffled replies followed and the beating ceased, but only to be very quickly replaced by rough talons grabbing her and tying both her wings, arms, and legs with thick rope. Then she was lifted and shoved into a waiting burlap sack just big enough to accommodate her. With all the ceremony of the sack of potatoes she resembled now, Gwendolyn was hoisted and taken to a nearby window, where her mother and the other griffin ambushers got ready to take flight. “Can you fly?” one of the griffins, a male, asked. Gwendolyn assumed they were asking the one she’d struck at the start of the ambush. Well, at least she’d gotten a hit in on one of the bastards. “Y-yes, barely.” “You’d best keep up, because we can’t afford to leave loose ends behind,” Beatrice said, tone flat as freshly sanded wood. The threat in her tone was absolutely clear, and the wounded griffin gave a very audible gulp. “I’ll keep up.” Then with no preamble, Gwendolyn heard wings beating the night air, and she was carried between her captors into the sky. ---------- Trixie’s first thought was to check the quarters of any individual who’d been missing from the dinner banquet. Stood to reason that most of them might have perfectly reasonable reasons for not being there, but if there was anything suspicious to be found, then now would be the time to find it.  It was pure coincidence that the closest rooms happened to be in the area the griffins had been quartered. They may have already searched King Gruber’s rooms before, but that didn’t mean there weren’t new clues there now. Or perhaps they’d overhear a suspicious conversation? Either way, Trixie and Raindrops were making their way past the various rooms of the griffin champions when Trixie’s gaze was drawn to a door that was already open. “Raindrops, look,” she said, nodding towards the ajar door.  Even more odd, the room’s interior was dark. The two mares exchanged looks, and Raindrops gave a silent nod. Trixie cautiously slipped an invisibility spell around both of them, Raindrops placing her hoof on Trixie’s withers to follow her along as they quietly approached the door. Trixie wasn’t sure who’s quarters they were, although the griffins did like throwing banners with their various kingdom’s heraldry up. This door’s  banner was laying curled on the floor, just inside the opening, and Trixie couldn’t make it out. She might have picked it up to examine it, but her eyes immediately gravitated towards the sight of a dark, wet stain that splattered the stone floor. It was dark enough in the room that Trixie could only see it as a dark stain, but she knew it’s true color was the red of blood from the copper scent in the air. “Trixie... that’s blood, isn’t it?” Raindrops whispered. “Yes. Be careful not to step in it,” Trixie warned. The last thing they  needed was to incriminate themselves at a potential crime scene.  Slowly she cracked the door open wider and gingerly stepped inside the room, her senses on high alert. It only took a few moments to sweep her gaze over the small room and realize it was empty. However a struggle had clearly taken place. Aside from the obvious blood stains on the floor, the rug was scuffed up and thrown about, and one of the room’s few chairs was overturned and had a broken leg. Trixie took a closer look at the blood. It was still wet, and even as she looked at it, soft moonlight stemming from an open window provided enough light for her to see a bit of steam rising from the blood in the cold night air. “It’s still warm. Whatever happened, it couldn’t have happened more than a few minutes ago,” Trixie said, mind racing.  “The window,” Raindrops said, “Look at the edges.” When Trixie looked, she swiftly saw what Raindrops was pointing out. The wooden edges of the windowsill had obvious talon marks on them. Someone, likely a griffin, or even several griffins, had come in through the window, and existed the same way. “There’s no body. Whoever was attacked got taken,” Trixie said, and risked dropping her invisibility spell to more swiftly rush up to the window and look out. Her eyes scanned the dark night sky, its tapestry of stars providing points of light against which she sought any dark silhouettes. Raindrops was at her side in an instant, her much more experienced set of eyes making shorter work of examining the sky. “There!” Raindrops said, her wing extending to point. Trixie followed it and just barely spied the flitting sight of several shadowy dots in the distance, making their way towards the soft lantern lights of Heroes’ Rest.  “Blast! They’re too far away!” Trixie hissed, “Can’t hit them with a spell from here. Raindrops, could you catch up with them?” “Not with my speed, but I can still follow them while you go get help,” Raindrops said, clambering up onto the windowsill in preparing to take off. “There’s no time for that,” Trixie said, grabbing onto Raindrops, “By the time I reach anyone who could do anything those griffins would already be at the docks. That has to be where they’re going. The only way off the island is by ship.” Her horn lit up and Raindrops looked at her with wide, incredulous eyes, “What are you doing?” “Teleporting.” Raindrops visibly paled, “Can... can you pull that off at this distance? With me in tow?” “...Uh... maybe...” “Trixie, I do not want my parts scattered over several square kilometers today.” “There’s only a chance that’ll happen. I’ve been practicing, okay!? And it’s not like we have a lot of other options,” Trixie replied tersely, keeping the magic flowing through her horn. She tried her best ot mentally visualize the docks at Heroes’ Rest, recalling the number of piers (was it four or five?) and the fresh scent of the sea that clung to them. She let the sound of lapping waves and laughter from dockside taverns fill her imagination, completing the mental picture. She then let the magic flow out of her horn and around both her and Raindrops, willing herself and the pegasus to be at that place in her mind. “Triiiixieeeee!” Raindrops shouted as reality proceeded to flash around them, instantly creating a sensation of absolute weightlessness followed by an electrified popping noise. The scent of ozone filled Trixie’s nostrils as she found herself dizzily standing upon firm cobblestones. Her mane was a frizzy mess, and she bore a few singe marks from random magical feedback. Next to her, Raindrops was in similar condition, eyes unfocused and sporting a few, sooty scorch marks on her hide. Her wing feathers were as frazzle as her mane, and as she shook her head and focused on Trixie, her eyes flared up heatedly. “Give me a second to prepare myself, next time you decide to bamf us!” Trixie snorted, “Don’t use the word ‘bamf’ for the fine and elegant feat of magical prowess I just performed! I bent us across space and time, with only minimal magical backlash. This is the fruit of my long hours of practice at work.” “Great for you. So, uh, did we make it?” Raindrops looked around. They were standing in the middle of a cobblestone street surrounded by one and two story buildings, multiple lantern posts giving the street a warm and well lit glow. There were ponies and other various creatures out and about, most of them giving Raindrops and Trixie odd looks. “We’re in Heroes' Rest,” said Trixie, recognizing the architecture. “I must have undershot us. The docks should be... um... that way!” The pair took off at a gallop, pounding down the gently curving street with their hooves echoing off the cobblestones. Both Trixie and Raindrops were trying hard to keep and eye on the sky, seeking any sign of a flight of suspicious... griffins? Truthfully Trixie had no confirmation that griffins had been the assailants, although it seemed very likely a griffin had been the intended victim. In fact, all things considered, it seemed very likely that it was Gwendolyn Var Bastion that had been targeted, given what Trixie now knew about the griffin warrior’s background and the plot of King Gruber to start a war between the Inner and Border Kingdoms.  Logically it stood to reason that since Gwendolyn won the Contest of Strength, Gruber was now resorting to a much more direct means of disposing of the possible strongest opposition to his plans. There was no way Gruber was planning to stay on the island either, not after an incident like this. Trixie’s bits were bet on Gruber already having acquired a ship at the docks to flee on, likely taking Gwendolyn in tow to use as a hostage in the war to come.  Granted, the griffins had all arrived via flight, so Gruber had to have either sized or chartered a transport ship. There were plenty present, given the number of tourists that had arrived to view the Contest of Champions. The problem was figuring out which one. If Trixie and Raindrops could spot the foal(chick?)nappers in the air, they could be followed to the right ship, otherwise they’d have to look for a ship that was already getting ready to set sail. Which wouldn’t be too hard in the middle of the night, given there shouldn't normally be any ships getting ready to make way during the night time.  So focused on scanning the air were the pair that they didn’t even notice who had stumbled out of a well lit tavern in front of them, smelling heavily of cheap ale.  “Whoa, watch out!” Raindrops shouted, skidding to a halt, using a hefty flap of her wings to help slow her. “Huh?” Trixie actually looked behind her at Raindrops, having not ceased her frantic pace, and ended up crashing head first into a staggering, ale drenched mass of drunk water deer. “Whozzat?” burped Sigurd, not even really trying to disentangle himself from Trixie as they lay on the street at the foot of the doorway into a raucous active tavern, just short of the docks.  “Gah! It’s me, Trixie! Get off me!” Trixie scrambled to get out from underneath the largely uncooperative cervid, her nose wrinkling, “Just how much have you been drinking?” Sigurd mumbled something, tossing aside an empty mug as he rolled over and said in a clearer tone, “Not enough yet to deal with your shrill voice, Dame Trixie... ugh... if misery is meant to love company, surely it was not thinking of you.” “Rude much? You smell worse than an entire locker room of unwashed yaks that just finished practicing for a bean eating contest.” “Ha... were I less drunk and in better spirits that might pass as a worthy cervid insult,” Sigurd said as he tried, and failed, to get steady legs under him. Raindrops moved over and helped him up. “Look, sorry for bumping into you, Sigurd, but we’re in a serious rush! Somepony, er, griffin has been taken and we’re trying to stop it!” That cleared up Sigurd’s ale fogged eyes rather quickly as he blinked and, while still swaying slightly, managed to say in a much more sober tone, “Who’s been taken?” “I suspect it was the griffin champion from Grandis, Gwendolyn,” Trixie said, “We found a room with blood in it and clear signs of someone being hauled out the window. Then we spotted what looked like fliers in the air heading for town. I think it’s likely they’re going for the docks. If King Gruber is planning to flee the island, he’d need a ship, since flying long distance with a captive would be far too dicey.” Trixie’s words probably did more than a hundred head dunks into cold trough water would have accomplished. Sigurd’s face gained a thunderous quality as he quickly reached to check that he still had his bone carved blade sheathed at his side. “Then what are we standing here talking for!? To the docks, and by the spirits of winter will any coward who’s struck at an actual champion this night shall know retribution.” Trixie and Raindrops gave each other dubious looks, but given Sigurd was already charging towards the docks in a drunken stagger, red rimmed violence in his eyes, they didn’t have a lot of choice except to follow and try and keep up. Granted the last thing they probably wanted was an inebriated cervid warrior making matters more complicated, but on the other hoof, it sure would make it easier to deal with any fight that broke out. The dock front of Heroes’ Rest was nowhere near as crowded as it’s still very active inn, shop, and tavern center. That also meant, however, there was generally less light, with lantern posts fewer and far between, and many of the long piers shrouded in deeper shadows that the lights hanging from the numerous ships did little to dispel. From dockside to dockside the piers were still largely filled with ships of all types and make, but Trixie’s eyes were on the lookout for any merchant or transport vessel that was already unfurling its sails.  They found it at the south end of the dock, a three masted galleon of Cavallian make, with a wide beam and beautifully carved quarterdeck covered in a paint job resembling a field of flowers. In all likelihood the captain of the ship probably had no idea what was actually going on, but Trixie could imagine most merchant captains wouldn’t question things too much if a griffin king suddenly laid a rather large pile of coins at their table for a sudden night departure; no questions asked.  Their timing couldn’t have been better, it seemed, for just as Trixie pointed the galleon out and they reached the entrance to the pier, a group of about five griffins landed on the pier right by the gangplank leading up to the ship’s deck. Between two of the griffins was carried a rather large, squirming sack, and one of the other griffins was showing a considerable limp, one wing twitching terribly. Trixie saw the red stain of blood on the injured griffin’s wings, probably from a sword wound. Well, no way to play this but loud, Trixie thought, and lit up her horn to fire a series of sparks that went trailing and spiraling into the air. The sparks burst into loud and bright blasts of illusionary, but quite noticeable fireworks that lit up the entire docks. Trixie then proceed to suck in a breath and amplify her voice with magic. “Halt evildoers, in the name of the Knights of the Elements! I, Dame Trixie Lulamoon, demand your immediate and unconditional surrender, upon pain of a severe flank kicking if you so much as take one more step towards that ship!” Her projected and amplified voice would have carried all across town, as she fully intended. She wanted as many creatures of authority to descend on this location as fast as possible, especially because as the five griffins turned towards her, all of them drawing steel, she also noticed about a dozen more up on the deck of the ship... and half of them were armed with crossbows aimed squarely at her, Raindrops, and Sigurd! She was more than ready to throw out some swift illusions to throw off any crossbow bolts that might come their way, but Sigurd, even while utterly smashed, was equally swift on the draw.  After a particularly epic belch, the water dear sneered, drawing his bone blade, “You heard the shrill lass! Give up now and I’ll freeze your nethers into tiny glaciers!” “You mean ‘or’ instead of ‘and’, right?” Raindrops asked, but Sigurd was already lighting his blade up with a wash of runic light, icy blue symbols crossing over the sword as he swung it down. Ice erupted outward, forming a spiked wall of thick frost that would stop any crossbow bolt. “Ha! You like that!? That wall is impunitr...impartrinal... imprerti... you’re not getting nothing through it!” Trixie, rubbing her face with one hoof, nudged Sigurd around to face the griffins, as he’d presently been yelling at the ocean and had formed his ice wall about twenty feet off shore. Sigurd blinked bleary eyes a few times, sniffed indignantly, and pointed his sword at the highly confused flock of griffins. “That was just a warning.” “Enough of this,” said a female griffin at the head of the flock, one that Trixie only somewhat recognized as having been near King Gruber fairly often. A guard captain, perhaps? Oddly, she did have a faint resemblance to Gwendolyn. Were they related? The female griffin gestured at the ones holding the sack, “Get her on board the ship, now. I’ll deal with the interruption. The rest of you, shoot to wound! If we end up killing any of these idiots, it’ll be an alicorn on our asses.” “Hate to break it to you, but that’s probably going to happen anyway,” Trixie said, “Do you really think you can get away with stealing away a Contest champion like honorless thieves in the night? I thought griffins had a much more pride than this, but apparently Gwendolyn Var Bastion really is the best of you!” The very last thing Trixie wanted was an actual fight. Oh, she was willing, of course, but even with her illusions a stray crossbow bolt still had plenty of killing power if one of those griffins got a lucky shot. Furthermore, the less blood was actually spilled, the less likely this would escalate into an even worse international incident than it was already shaping up to be. Trixie might not have been an expert on griffin culture, but she knew enough to understand pride and honor meant a lot to these birds. She wasn’t expecting much, but if she could make them hesitate for even a few moments, it bought time for more help to arrive. Surely her light show and shouting had drawn some attention. She could at least see there were a few sailors on nearby ships coming up onto the decks, lighting lanterns and looking about for the source of the commotion. The female griffin in charge eyed Trixie with a mix of heated contempt and, promisingly enough, hesitance and doubt. “Gwendolyn is a threat to the stability of the kingdom, no matter how good a warrior she’s become. Leave, and you won’t be harmed. This is a griffin matter, and you have no place interfering.” The individuals trying to haul the sack up the gangplank were having trouble, as the one within the sack was now redoubling her struggles, likely having heard what was happening and realizing that assistance was close by. There were shouts of pain as talons tore open the sack and a battered, beaten, and bloody Gwendolyn ripped herself free while also ripping open the shoulder of one of her unfortunate captors, literally stabbing her beak into soft flesh and tearing like a bird of prey. “Dammit, get her under control!” the female guard captain said, ripping a slender sword free of its scabbard and turning towards the gangplank, but then Sigurd and Raindrops both moved, taking advantage of the distraction. Trixie swore harshly under her breath in her Neigh Orleans accent as she threw out a wall of colorful, shifting patterns of light, creating a wall of confounding illusion between her companions and the crossbow wielding griffins on the ship. She was just in time, as well, given the sharp twangs of releasing strings, and the buzz of bolts cutting the air and thwacking into the docks. One caught Trixie’s cape, punching a hole in it, but just missing her flesh. She still quickly decided to move, throwing a burst of scintillating lights flaring up towards the griffins to blind and confuse them. Meanwhile Sigurd and Raindrops both reached the gangplank. Sigurd’s sword whipped towards the female griffin, who turned about with serpentine speed. The steel of her slender sword locked with his jagged bone blade, and ice frosted around them as the runes on the sword glowed with hungry arctic light.  Raindrops flew up, joining Gwendolyn’s brawl as she hammered one griffin with both hind legs, dropping the fellow into the dark waters with a wet sploosh. Gwendolyn heaved the griffin whose shoulder she’d savaged over her head and hurled them up onto the ship, knocking over two other griffins who had rushed the top of the gangplank with swords drawn. Gwendolyn’s eyes were red rimmed and furious, and the moment she didn’t have an enemy immediately in front of her she sucked in a breath and roared in a volume only achievable by an enraged griffin, magic amplification, or an alicorn who hadn’t had her morning coffee, “Gruber, get your worthless carcass out here and face me! I challenge you!” Essentially every griffin froze in place as if doused with cold water. Even the female griffin who seemed to be in charge almost immediately backed up from Sigurd, still keeping her blade at the ready, but turned stunned eyes towards Gwendolyn.  Trixie’s knowledge of the finer points of griffin culture might have been lacking, but even she could grasp the nuances of what Gwendolyn had just done. First of all, she’d just issued a duel challenge. That, in and of itself, was hardly uncommon among griffins. Not too long ago several of Trixie’s friends had run into the issue of griffin honor duels when dealing with a political matter that Kindle and Terrorwing had been neck deep involved in. What was different here was that this wasn’t just any challenge between two random griffins, but one being issued directly to a griffin king. A king whom Gwendolyn had just insulted on multiple levels, not merely with harsh language, but by specifically omitting his title and using his name alone, making it clear she didn’t think him worthy of the crown. In almost any other society such a challenge would be laughed at or at the very least, ignored. But griffins are a different breed, and Gwendolyn had just rammed a blade straight into the heart of King Gruber’s respect, pride, and honor.  Now, given that the griffins present had already been following orders of a less than honorable nature to abduct someone of Gwendolyn’s recent prestige suggested that most of them valued loyalty to their king over personal honor, there was a difference between doing something dishonorable when you think you can get away without anyone noticing, and doing it once half a town has been alerted and started to turn out for the show. By now the docks were starting to gain curious onlookers wondering what the commotion was.  Perhaps more to the point, Gwendolyn, clearly badly injured, but still willing and able to fight her captors and even showing the unmitigated spine needed to challenge her king directly likely was a slap to the face of many of the griffins who might have been on the fence about this whole ‘abducting’ business.  At least half of them backed off, lowering weapons. The other half kept at the ready, clearly more loyal to king and country than any sense of personal honor, but Trixie would take what she could get. More significantly, Gwendolyn’s challenge brought the bird behind the entire thing out into the open. “You crow louder than a squalling chick that’s angry she didn’t get an even portion at meal time, Gwendolyn Var Bastion.” King Gruber stepped up onto the deck from an interior cabin on the ship’s quarterdeck and strutted to the top of the gangplank with a remarkable amount of self assurance for someone caught red taloned in attempting to commit a crime.  Then Trixie’s mind suddenly snapped towards a rather unpleasant notion that, by griffin standards, this might not even count as a crime. They were in an internationally neutral territory, where all visiting nations could maintain their own personal jurisdiction over their own affairs. If King Gruber wanted to... “Oh, merde,” Trixie swore under her breath as King Gruber looked down at Gwendolyn. “You have a great deal of gall to issue a challenge to your rightful king while facing severe charges of conspiracy to commit treason against the Kingdom of Grandis, support of rebellion and sedition, and active breach of military protocol by maintaining an independent mercenary unit against United Griffin Kingdoms charter laws. You have been placed under lawful and dutiful arrest for these crimes, Gwendolyn Var Bastion, and I will not accept, nor am I under any obligation to accept, a challenge from a common criminal.” Several of the griffin warriors closest to Gwendolyn stepped back, talons tensely gripping their weapons, and it wasn’t difficult to see why. Gwendoyn had murder in her eyes at King Gruber’s words, her body lowering like a lion preparing to pounce as her crest feathers rose in rage. Gruber was smiling in simple satisfaction at her, clearly goading her on. If Gwendolyn attacked, he’d have every justification to have her cut down then and there, and there’d be nothing Trixie, Raindrops, or Sigurd could do about it. So before things went straight down the lavatory, Trixie spoke, raising her voice to that incredibly grating pitch she’d perfected when she wanted to dig under somepony’s hide, or in this case, somegriffin’s feathers. “I’m shocked at you, King Gruber! Is that how griffins traditionally do things these days? Steal into a champion’s room in the middle of the night without warning to ambush her without having the honor or courage to make such accusations in the public eye, where all can hear it?” She was poking the hornet nest, she knew, but she needed to buy time in any way she could. Time for Gwendolyn to calm down and take control of her thoughts. Time for somepony, anypony with better authority than hers to show up. Every single second counted as more and more folks crowded around the docks, more witnesses, more eyes on the situation. Gruber wanted to be gone, and quietly, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing things the way he had, so every moment made his life more difficult. He knew she was doing it, too, given the sharp look of contempt that he gave her, “Hmph, ‘Dame’ Trixie Lulamoon, is it? Remind me, while your fellow knights were attempting to show some semblance of honor by facing honest warriors in the ring, what were you doing? Watching from the sidelines, yes? What does a rank, weak little unicorn without the courage to face her foes in physical combat know about griffin honor?” “More than you, cur!” spat Sigurd, “And Lady Gwendolyn’s honor is beyond any reproach, I swear that upon my ancestors going back to the very birth of Elkheim!” There was an uneasy stirring among the griffins around King Gruber, and Trixie surmised the shift in the proverbial winds. Gruber could easily shout down Trixie, since whether she liked it or not ponies still weren’t generally seen in high esteem by the aggressive griffin mindset. Didn’t help that Gruber was technically right, Trixie didn’t fight in the Contest of Strength, which didn’t give her words a lot of weight.  Sigurd on the other hoof? He was not just a water deer of the mighty cervid tribes of Elkheim, but he had fought in the ring, and gotten relatively far, only losing to Gwendolyn herself. The griffins did hold cervids in high regard, if only because they’d been long time opponents in the distant past during the days of the Griffin Empire. On top of that Sigurd was a champion, and drunk off his rear or not, his words carried weight. It still wouldn’t be enough to change any griffin’s mind about doing their duty to serve their rightful king, but it did cause enough pause that it finally gave Gwendolyn the extra moment she needed to get her own head back in the game and off of the idea of just throttling Gruber then and there. Instead she took a deep hiss of a breath and let it out slowly. She then looked towards Gruber’s guard captain, the one who Trixie was starting to see resembled Gwenolyn quite a bit. “Mother, I’ll ask you this once; do you honestly believe this is what’s best for the Kingdom of Grandis?” The other griffiness was still as stone, her voice heavier than a mountain with a sense of duty cloaking caverns of doubt, “What you’ve tried to do in the Border Kingdoms is noble, my foolish, brave daughter. But you don’t understand. The Kingdoms won’t survive a war unless it is made to be a short one. Your Red Shields must fall, along with any embers of a rebellion they inspire. The only other path is one where the Border Kingdoms and Inner Kingdoms claw at each other for years, perhaps even decades, and... the death that will bring is beyond your imagining. Surrender, Gwendolyn, peacefully. Bring your Red Shields in. They’ll listen to you, if you beg they lay down arms. You can prevent thousands of deaths by allowing King Gruber to take you in. He will show you clemency. Things will... quiet down, given time. That is what is best for Grandis, for all of the Griffin Kingdoms.”  Gwendolyn closed her eyes and shook her head, opening her eyes again to look at her mother was saddened resolve, “It won’t go the way you think. The only way to prevent war is to ensure the Red Shields are present to prove to the Border Kingdoms that some of us in the Inner Kingdoms care what happens to them. All King Gruber wants is a war that will let him and his cronies among the Inner Kingdoms subdue the Border Kingdoms and turn them into little more than extended territories rather than independent nations. The death that will occur if he has his way here and now is even worse than what will happen if a war breaks out the way you fear. But you are right about one thing, mother... if this is to come to blows, it has to be made short and bloody, to ensure the rot is cut out before it sets in any further.” She turned to look at King Gruber, who continued to stare down at her imperiously. Gwendolyn sheathed her sword, but then took to the air. Crossbows tracked her, but she didn’t fly away, nor made any attempt to flee. Instead she hovered and pitched her voice so all could hear her words ringing out with clarity. “Hear me, my fellow countrygriffins! Do any of you know these words? ‘All griffins are equal in the honor they earn by the strength of honest talons, so that none may be higher than another as long as one remains an honorable griffin’? King Gruber, do you know who said those words?” The King of Grandis narrowed his eyes, “I don’t see what that has to do with-” “It was Emperor Yuri, last ruler of the Griffin Empire!” Gwendolyn’s voice rang out, “Even before the Griffin Empire fell, he laid the foundations of the laws and traditions that’d endure and unite our people for generations! Even as we split into different Kingdoms, Inner and Border, the one thing that has united all of us griffins has been a singular, unwavering dedication to the ideal that as long as you fought, worked, and toiled honestly and honorably, then you were the equal of any other griffin across all the Kingdoms!” She shook her head again, laughing bitterly, “Can any of you tell me when we lost that unity? This so-called ‘king’ calls me a criminal? My crimes? Leading honest, good griffin warriors in protecting fellow griffins from monsters and bandits in the Border Kingdoms. Against orders, true, but why should it not have been the natural order for us to fight for our neighbors when they are in need? What seems more honorable to you? This ‘king’ claims I am a traitor? I love my country and fellow griffins to such an extent I’d give my lifeblood for them, and even knowing the danger I came here to represent my Kingdom as champion. And. I. Won. Not the whole Contest, yes, but then again I’m not much of an artist...” A few griffins chuckled at that. Trixie cold see Gwendolyn had the crowd. Had them. King Gruber knew it too, from the sickened look on his face. Gwendolyn didn’t give time to interrupt. “I am the champion of the Contest of Strength. I am the leader of a band of free griffins fighting to protect our own kind when our so called ‘leaders’ would rather sit in fine silks and eat off the labors of those they clearly think are beneath them. I am Gwendolyn Var Bastion, and I ask all of you... when I challenge ‘King’ Gruber, as is the right of every freeborn, honorable griffin, do any of you see reason to refute my claim to that challenge?” A chorus of ‘No’ echoed back to her from the vast majority of the griffins present, and Gwendolyn looked down at Gruber, talon now resting on the hilt of her sword. “Then I say again, King Gruber, I challenge you. Do you accept, and show at least some small measure of honor... or refuse and prove yourself unfit to rule?” “Unfit? Unfit?” Gruber let out a mocking chortle, “You’re a child. A naive child. Yes I refuse you’re idiotic challenge! I have nothing to prove to you! Guards, cease listening to her drivel and arrest her already!” Silence followed his orders, and King Gruber looked among the unmoving griffin soldiers with growing disbelief and fury. “What are you all doing? I am your king and I have given you an order!” “Not much of a king if you won’t even fight in a proper duel,” said one voice among the guards, and Gruber’s hackles shot up. “Who said that!?” One of the griffin guards flew down from the deck to land on the docks, shouldering his crossbow. He ignored Gruber and looked up at Gwendolyn, “Hey, your Red Shields... they recruiting?” Gwenodlyn grinned down at the guard, “If you’re looking to sign up, I’ll take any griffin with the guts to ask.” “Good, because I think I’m out of a job with the King’s guard.” Gruber was fuming, eyes starring murder as more and more of his guard left his ship and joined their comrades on the docks, all making requests to join Gwendolyn’s Red Shields. A small handful of griffins, the ones most loyal to Gruber and the ones who participated in the ambush on Gwendolyn, stayed on the ship, looking dour but closing ranks around their king. “Damn you, somegriffin shoot that damn wench!” Gruber said, but Beatrice had come up the gangplank and put a stern claw on his shoulder. “My king, this day is lost to us,” she said, “We must return to Grandis now, and recover the situation.” It was like her words triggered some kind of second personality in Gruber, the shrillness in the king’s voice vanishing and his expression swiftly composing itself. “You’re right, of course. An unfortunate setback, but it doesn’t change the plan.” He turned and shouted over his shoulder to the ship’s crew, “Cast off at once! We’re done with this island!” Given the crew of the Cavallian merchant vessel had no stake in griffin politics one way or another, and had already been paid, the crew swiftly went to it and cast off lines. Within minutes the ship was pulling away from the docks and making sail, with King Gruber starring hateful daggers at Gwendolyn and the griffins around her. Gwendolyn’s mother, Beatrice, remained next to her king, looking grim in the fading light as the ship pulled away into the night. There was no lack of confusion from the watching crowds along the shoreline and adjoining ships as to what just happened, and the following few minutes were filled with murmurs of speculation while Trixie, Raindrops, and Sigurd escorted Gwednolyn and her new cadre of fellow griffins off the pier.  “How did you know I was taken?” Gwendolyn asked in a low voice to Trixie once they were back on the street. “Raindrops and I were investigating the monastery for... reasons. Found your door open, blood on the floor, an open window with claw marks. Spotted shapes flying towards town. Put two and two together from there and teleported to the docks to try and intercept. Guess it worked,” Trixie explained in swift, concise words, keeping her own voice low as to not let too much information slip into the crowd. Gwendolyn’s eyes turned tired and contemplative, her voice firming with equal levels of regret and resolve, “I can’t stay on the island. I can’t afford to keep competing. Gruber’s going to be returning to Grandis, and every second I’m here puts the Red Shields in greater danger. I need to return to the Griffin Kingdoms, ahead of Gruber, if possible.” “Let’s not be hasty,” Trixie replied, “You might not have to drop out of the Contest, which can still net you extra political pull if you remain in the running while Gruber flees. Let’s talk with Princess Luna first and see what can be arranged.” Just around that time the constables of Heroes’ Rest, along with a number of monks of the Order of Legends, arrived on the scene. ---------- It took over an hour to get the details of the innocent explained, and to sort things out. It was another hour before Trixie, Raindrops, Gwendolyn, with Sigurd sobering up in tow, were able to return to the monastery. Word of the incident spread, but for most it was a curiosity rather than a cause of serious concern. Griffins infighting and political maneuvering weren’t unusual or unheard of, although it was uncouth to have it turn to night time abductions. Abbess Serene convened with Princess Luna and Gwendolyn on how to best deal with the matter, while Sigurd, Trixie, and Raindrops remained on the sidelines. Luna was still largely focusing on treating Ditzy’s condition, but had the capacity to discuss matters without taking too much attention away from her work, her horn continuously streaming a soft river of sparkling blue energies in a wreath around Ditzy Doo’s head. “Am I to understand you believe it best to drop out of the Contest of Champions and return to your Kingdom of Grandis as swiftly as possible?” Princess Luna asked Gwendolyn, and the griffin shook her head. “Not Grandis. Farhills. That is where the Red Shields are stationed. I need to get to them, and with help from Queen Hagatha, I need to march on Grandis’ capital. If I can take and hold the city before Gruber returns, I can halt his plans before they go any further.” Luna’s eyes held a note of cold steel to them, “It may not be a simple and bloodless thing you’re speaking of. It boils down to rebellion.” “The alternative is to wait for Gruber to launch his own attacks on us, which will lead to a disastrous and drawn out war. If I take the capitol in a sure, swift strike, I can expose how unfit Gruber is to be king and turn enough of Grandis against him that he’ll have no choice but to abdicate the throne. Without him, whatever other warhawks are out there among the other Inner Kingdoms will back down, at least for now. It will buy me time to stabilize things with the Border Kingdoms and ensure things down come to an all out war. That’s what I wish to avoid the most.” Abbess Serene stepped forward, sympathy in her eyes, “Have you considered who will rule if King Gruber does as you imagine and stands down? Only you would be in a position to take the throne. Are you capable of handling such a responsibility? You have shown yourself to be an exceptional warrior, and a leader in the field, but... to be queen is not the same as leading a band of soldiers into battle.” “I don’t know,” Gwendolyn admitted, having the wherewithal to look more than a little intimidated by the prospect, “But I don’t see any other way forward that isn’t going to turn out to be a worse alternative. I either do this, or accept that within the next month all of the Griffin Kingdoms will descend into war with each other. What else am I supposed to do, but try and stop it in any way I can?” “Here’s an idea. Gruber’s on a Cavallian ship,” Trixie mentioned, “Would it be possible for Princess Cadenza to pull a few strings to have the ship... inspected? I hear smugglers are a growing issue in Cavallian ports these days. The Cavallian Navy could receive an anonymous tip that this ship is carrying contraband. Might take weeks to divert it to a port for a long term inspection, which in turn could be held up for weeks more. Paperwork for that kind of thing can be so... messy.” Gwendolyn gave her a thankful smirk, “Devious. That’d sure buy me time to handle matters in Grandis and convince the citizenry I’m not some crazy usurper, but their best shot at avoiding further rule by a warmonger.” “It’d also buy you all the time you need to actually remain a participant in the Contest, which in turn would only further your clout with the other griffin rulers still present here,” Trixie said, “Even if you don’t win any further competitions, the mere fact that you remain, while Gruber is running with his tail tucked between his keister, after you dressed him down publicly should massively boost your honorable image. You’re going to need that, because... well, technically you are usurping the throne.” At Gwendolyn’s look she raised a hoof, “Didn’t say I disagreed. King Gruber clearly doesn’t need to be in charge of anything more complex than a manure depot. I’m just saying, I think you got rather lucky at the ship, convincing as many of Gruber’s guards as you did. If you stay in the Contest, you just add to your credit, and that should make it easier to convince even more of your fellow griffins when you take Grandis that you’re in the right to knock Gruber’s throne out from under him.” Gwendolyn looked thoughtful, her eyes turning towards Sigurd, “I have to thank you, Sigurd, for supporting me at the ship. Do you think I should stay in the Contest?” Sigurd bowed his head, looking sober and dour once more, “What honor I have left, I gladly lay on the line for those who’ve earned it. Your kingdom is lucky to have one such as you. If you wish to leave now, to go to your comrades in arms, I would not think a single inch less of you, but I do believe Dame Lulamoon has a point. Your honor would only soar higher, remaining here, and if the unicorn’s scheme with the Cavallian port authorities works, you’d delay your foe by weeks. The Contest goes on for only a few more days.” Gwendolyn’s laugh was filled with more relief than anything else, “Truth be told I didn’t really want to leave right now either. I like to finish what I start. Still, I don’t like taking chances either. To that end, Princess Luna, I know it’s much to ask of you to involve your people, or even yourself, further in the affairs of a foreign nation... but I must return to my Red Shields as fast as possible when the Contest ends. I know you have magic that is more than powerful enough to take me there in the blink of an eye.” “I do,” Luna replied coolly, but not unkindly, her expression inscrutable as she looked from Gwendolyn to Trixie, “I wonder, how would you assess this situation?” “Me? I mean, um, of course,” Trixie took a moment to get her head in order. It’d been awhile since Luna quizzed her on the spot like this, but in hindsight Trixie should have expected it. Luna had that look in her eye that said that if Trixie wanted to gallivant off to get Equestria involved in a foreign power struggle, she could also get to think through the ramifications of it, first. “If we teleported Gwendolyn directly into the Griffin Kingdoms, if that got out one might consider Equestria culpable in aiding a regime change in a foreign power. A bad look for us, really. Granted Raindrops and I showing up to interfere with the abduction could be spun the same way, but I think we can color that for what it was, concerned knights trying to stop what appeared to be an illegal abduction. The fact that it kinda sorta was legal is neither here nor there. Now, if Gwendolyn’s trip back home was expedited in a less grandiose manner... say, teleported to a Cavallian port where she could then book a ship north along the coast, that’d still put her ahead of Gruber by a long shot, especially if he’s detained by an unfortunate misunderstanding over his ship potentially smuggling contraband. Less to trace back to us, at any rate.” Luna nodded that tiny nod of hers that could have said a million things to those who didn’t know her, but Trixie took as pleased acknowledgment.  “I would think that’s the best course. What say you, Gwendolyn?” At the alicorn’s question, Gwendolyn looked tense, energized, terrified, and determined all at once. Trixie could only imagine what the young griffiness was really going through, mentally and emotionally. In a few short days she’d essentially discovered her sovereign was plotting to tear their nation apart with a massive war, had fought the most grueling set of duels in her life, then been nearly abducted by her ruler and her own mother, and was now facing leading a coup against that very same king to save her country from a bloody war. And Trixie thought [i[her Tuesdays were rough. Eventually Gwendolyn looked towards a nearby liquor cabinet, and with Luna’s head tilt of approval, she went and poured herself a drink. Downing the alcohol in one go, Gwendolyn took a breath and said, “I’m really doing this, aren’t I? Will Princess Cadenza really help with detaining Gruber’s ship?” “I must speak with Princess Cadenza,” Luna said, “I have little doubt she’ll agree to provide assistance. So you’ve decided to remain?” “...Yes. It gives me time to get my head on straight and plan. I’ve got ten new recruits, too, who I need to bring up to speed. Can they be brought with me through a teleport?” “I doubt that will give Princess Cadenza any trouble.” “Well then, that’s that,” Gwendolyn said, heaving out an exhausted sigh, “I hope I’ll get a chance to say goodbye to Dao Ming before all this goes down.” “I can ensure you get a chance to meet her before you go,” Abbess Serene said, smiling gently, “And rest assured that regardless of how your efforts in your homeland turn out, you and your honorable deeds shall be recorded in the Order of Legend's records.”  Gwendolyn bowed her head to the old Abbess, “That actually does mean more to me than you might think. I might not have originally wanted to come here, but the Contest has... shown me a lot. I want to finish it, and then finish Gruber.” “On that note,” said Luna, “I would say it's best for all of you who can do so to go get some rest. Tomorrow may not be a day of competition, but it would be best to be rested for it nonetheless. Just in case.” Trixie and Raindrops took the hint and headed for the door, pausing only long enough to elbow Sigurd, who’d also gotten into the liquor cabinet. “Seriously, how much can one cervid drink?” “I’ll have you know the upward limit has yet to be determined,” Sigurd said morosely. ---------- The next day dawned with a serene quiet that hung over the island, with fresh mist rolling in from the south and cloaking everything in a light fog for much of the morning, before the sunlight eventually burned it off. Gossip flew around breakfast time concerning the incident at the docks, at Gwendolyn was the subject of many questions, stares, and whispered speculations. It was generally known now that internal conflict between the griffin’s had caused some manner of incident, and that King Gruber had departed in the night by ship, along with most of his personal retinue and wife. Yet Gweondolyn herself, theoretically Grandis’ champion, remained, and clearly in stressed spirits. Surprisingly, once the details of the incident began to leak out among the gossipers, it seemed, at least to Trixie’s view, that more than a few of the remaining griffin champions were offering looks and nods, and even words of support to Gwendolyn. There were still some that looked at her with naked ire, but it seemed her performance in the Contest of Strength had truly earned her some respect. For Gwendolyn herself, she seemed to take it all with a weathered sense of urgency. She had agreed to remain and finish the Contest, but her concern over the future of her people was apparent in the ever present tension she carried. Gwendolyn wasn’t the only one who looked put out that morning either. Trixie noted that the Shouma delegation was practically frosty with one another, with the Empress pointedly sitting apart from her children, and of those children, Tomoko and Lo Shang seemed to sit in an almost protective manner near Dao Ming. Xhua looked plainly confused as to the bizarre separation between Empress and heiress, and sat between the two groups looking lost, and picking at her food cautiously. Dao Ming was ignoring her mother as hard as her mother appeared to be ignoring her. Only Kenkuro seemed to be trying to break the ice with light conversations and attempts at jokes, none of which was doing any good. “Wonder what happened there?” Carrot Top said, munching down a slice of spiced pear pie.  “Going to guess the kirin princess has finally gotten tired of her mother’s sh-” Cheerilee began, with Trixie quickly clearly her throat. “It isn’t our business. I have no love for the Empress, but her family issues aren’t why we’re here. Seeing this just suggests to me that them being missing last night had more to do with a family squabble than any connection to our mysterious conspirators.” “There’s that, yeah,” said Lyra, yawning still as she all but inhaled her coffee, “Once this caffeine kicks in, I’m off with Bon Bon to go hit the beach. I hear the cervids are planning a longboat race, and I want to get some inspiration for my next song.” “Frederick mentioned that to me last night,” Carrot Top said with a giggle that, to Trixie’s ears, sounded like it should’ve come from a pony half Carrot Top’s age. Just what were Carrot Top and that elk prince getting up to, anyway? “He invited me to come board his long boat.” “I’ll bet he did,” Cheerilee said, and Carrot Top rolled her eyes. “For a ride.” “That was my implication, yes.” “A ride, on his boat, for the race.” “In public?” “Arrgh, Cheerilee, you’re impossible!” “Never forget it,” Cheerilee smiled around a mouthful of salad. Trixie sighed and stood up from the table, and Cheerilee glanced at her. “I didn’t think my teasing was that bad.” “It’s not that,” Trixie said, giving Cheerilee a smarmy sidelong look, “Although it didn’t help. No, I’m just not that hungry this morning. I think I’ll check on Ditzy, and after that, see the Abbess. She mentioned showing us something yesterday. I’d like to know what.” “Huh, yeah I kinda remember that,” Lyra said, “The race isn’t until noon, so we’ve got a few hours. I’ll go give Bon Bon her morning hug of my eternal affection, then join you.” “I got the impression we were all supposed to be there,” Raindrops mentioned, and Cheerilee shrugged. “That’s not possible with Ditzy down, but since I don’t think any of us have any plans prior to noon anyway, we might as well all go see Ditzy then go find out what the Abbess wants.” Those who hadn’t finished breakfast quickly wolfed down what was left. Their departure was a tad slowed by Lyra doing as she said she would and giving her marefriend some public affection and letting her know she’d meet her at the beach soon. They also passed the cervids’ table, where Sigurd was still clearly recovering from a severe hangover. Andrea was playing music, while Frederick was getting into a debate with Wodan over whether he should participate in the long boat race. “By all the spirits and gods combined, Wodan, I know how to steer a long boat!” Frederick said, clearly biting back further words. “And I keep telling you, my prince, that your parents have charged Sigurd and I with getting you back home alive and intact. You’ve steered a long boat through the Bay of Vidar, once... and you still can’t swim.” Frederick’s light brown fur glowed red as he spotted Carrot Top passing by, “Why, Dame Carrot Top, lovely to see you drift my way. I was just telling Wodan how I’d invited you to come see how cervids handle a ship! I do hope you’re ready for a memorable ride.” Wodan glanced back at Carrot Top, then at Frederick, who was grinning encouragingly. Wodan seemed to come to a decision and blew out a puff of hard air from his might nostrils, stirring the tableware, “So be it, but if you drop into the ocean, I may consider letting it take you... briefly. I’ll still fish you out, but your noble pony mare can perform mouth to mouth on you.” “Hmm, I’ve never heard a more convincing argument for why I should let myself fall overboard,” Frederick chuckle, to which Carrot Top chuckled and gave him a friendly shove on the shoulder. “None of that now. I want you alive and warm for later. Anyway, I just came to tell you that me and the gals have some business with the Abbess to take care of, then we’ll join you at the beach.” “The Abbess?” Andrea asked, not breaking beat with her fiddling, but cocking a curious eyebrow their way, “I haven’t seen her all morning. I was wondering where she was. May I inquire what’s happening, and if it has anything to do with why our good friend Sigurd here is trying to pierce his brain with cauliflower?” Sigurd was in fact in the process of stuffing his ears with vegetables from one of the snack trays, and groaned, “Every bit of noise is like the endless torments of Autumn fey in my head. Must you continue that incessant fiddling, Andrea?” “This is a reminder to you, Sigurd, that even the mightiest cervid can only drink so much without consequence,” Andrea replied, her fiddling only seeming to grow more intense. “Well, it's not tied to what went down with Gwendolyn,” Trixie said, “Beyond that, I can’t really say.” “Hmm, a pity. Sounds like there’s a story brewing here,” Andrea said, but questioned no further and returned her focus to her music.  The mares left the great banquet hall and went to Luna’s quarters. Surprisingly, the Abbess was already there, waiting for them. Luna remained entirely focused upon Ditzy, her magic remaining a steady flow around their deep slumbering friend. Trixie noted that Ditzy did seem to be sleeping easier, her breathing somehow more lively and steady.  “She is making progress,” Luna confirmed, not even opening her eyes from her intense focus. Trixie knew Luna hadn’t slept, and wouldn’t until Ditzy was freed of the Fey spell she was under. The alicorn had more than enough endurance for it, but Trixie was worried nonetheless. Not only were the Elements out of action with Ditzy down, but with Luna stuck here, there might be many things the alicorn might have noticed with her superior senses that now could pass unseen. Grimwald had effectively neutralized two of the biggest threats to the conspirators plans with one deft move. It galled her she hadn’t taken action sooner, done something to stop him, or at least keep a closer eye on him. Shaking that feeling off, she turned to Abbess Serene, “So, you wished to see us?” “At Princess Luna’s request, I am to show you something that is, I must confess, a secret kept by my Order,” the Abbess said, “And it is not just you mares alone I am showing. Come, follow me.” Trixie and her friends all shared confused glances, but Luna spoke in a calm, assuring tone. “Follow her. I asked she show you this secret because I hope it may help you unravel the threat to this island. Even if it doesn’t, perhaps it will help you better understand the purpose of the Contest of Champions.” “Don’t we already know that, though?” asked Raindrops, “Celebrating the defeat of that Warlord kirin, and the whole cultural exchange thing?” “Those are important parts of it, perhaps the most important parts,” Luna agreed, “But there is one other purpose to it, one that is not spoken of, for reasons I imagine you’ll soon understand.” In following the Abbess, Trixie and her friends were led back to the bottom floor of the monastery, and then further down into its basement levels, where light came only from flickering torches mounted in scones or hanging above in iron chandeliers. For such an old mare, Abbess Serene moved swiftly and without any laboring for breath, even with all of the stairs.  “The Order of Legends has had this island as its charge since practically the day that Rengoku fell upon it,” Abbess Serene said, her voice weary, yet somehow fiercely intense, “Generations of monks have passed these halls, ever serving our cause. Collect and record the legends of champions, host the Contest of Champions, honor those who had fallen in defeating the Warlord and Rengoku, and keep watch over the fortress, lest it rise again.” “Okay, but we know all of this,” Lyra said with burning curiosity, “What’s the big secret then?” The Abbess led them to what looked to be a completely nondescript, small storage room, just big enough to fit them all without them having to squeeze shoulder to shoulder. Abbess Serene turned to them and gave them a wane smile as she raised a hoof and pressed in a part of the wall that had been a seamlessly hidden panel.  “This.” The wall moved aside with smooth, buttery ease, revealing a staircase leading even further down. They had already been on what Trixie thought to be the lowest level. She grit her teeth and shot a look at the Abbess, “A hidden level? We’ve been searching everywhere for Zecora, and this place has a hidden floor?” “I assure you, it’s very unlikely that Corona’s prophet would be on this floor. Only sufficiently highly ranked monks are aware it exists. Come.” The Abbess turned and began to advance down the stairs, and after a moment, the Ponyville mares followed. It spiraled down, further than a mere floor. Trixie guessed that the stairwell went down perhaps an extra fifty feet before it leveled out into a wide hallway, still brightly lit by torches. Abbess Serene spoke as she led them down it, towards a pair of large wooden doors that could be seen ahead. “This area is kept hidden because its purpose is not meant to be known to the world. Celestia and Luna, when Celestia was still Celestia, charged the Order with one, final task above all the others. You see, Rengoku could not be destroyed. Its magical core was built to overload, were the fortress ever assaulted by sufficient magic, especially alicorn magic, to destroy it.” “Why alicorn magic, specifically?” asked Cheerilee, “Seems kind of arbitrary.” “Not at all. You see, the Warlord didn’t build Rengoku. She merely re-purposed it. We don’t know who originally built the fortress, only that they clearly designed the fortress as a weapon against the alicorns.” That got the mares to all exchange uneasy looks. “Uh, you said alicorns, as in, plural?” Trixie said, “I knew that fortress was bad news, but that’s... disconcerting.” “Indeed,” the Abbess confirmed, “To make matters worse, while Rengoku can be sealed behind a barrier, any attempt to destroy the fortress would trigger a self-destruct signal within its core. The resulting explosion would be catastrophic, to say the least. It wouldn’t destroy the world, but it would certainly cause great harm. Even if detonated in the middle of the largest ocean, the tidal waves would still cause havoc on many continents’coastlines.” “Okay, but what does that have to do with your Order or the Contest?” Raindrops said as the Abbess reached the doors. Abbess Serene looked back at them as she raised a hoof to push one of the large, wooden doors open, “Come and see.” Beyond the doors lay a circular stone chamber with a domed ceiling. It was larger than a hoofball field, and contained a dizzying array of apparatus situated along multiple stone tables. The walls were covered in alcoves within which stacks of books and scrolls were kept in neatly ordered rows, with large sliding ladder allowing access to shelves dozens of feet up. There were a few side doors that were nestled between these alcoves, suggesting further chambers beyond this one. Sharp chemical smells filled the air, along with a constant buzz of magical energies. Aside from torchlight, the room was also lit by the pulsing flickers of dozens of different chemical and magical reactions from various apparati scattered about. Trixie took one look around and knew immediately what she was looking at, although she’d never seen one so large, cluttered, and... eccentric. “This is an arcane lab.” “Yes,” Abbess Serene confirmed, and at their voices, not to mention the noise of the door opening, no less than two dozen monks in white robes looked up from their work. The monks were all older ones, clearly senior members of the Order. They hailed from every race. Pony, cervid, kirin, camel, zebra, and others Trixie didn’t even recognize. Each one was deeply engaged in some manner of research work, and as she looked she noticed more of those viewing mirrors that the monks used to display visuals of the Contest floating around. These mirrors were smaller in design, and were showing recordings of almost every aspect of the Contest so far. Even casually glancing at the nearest table showed her a mirror displaying Dao Ming’s summoning of Raijin, and its powerful lightning attack upon her and her friends. Nearby notes showed countless theories concerning the spirit and how its summoning and energies might work. “You’re studying the champions,” she said, “Their abilities, their magic, everything about them.” “Just so,” the Abbess said, and then called out to her people, “Continue your work. They’re here at Princess Luna’s behest.” “I don’t understand,” said Carrot Top, “Why do all this?” “In a moment,” Abbess Serene replied, “Our other guest should be arriving shortly.” The door they’d come through had remained opened, and back down the hallway to the stairs Trixie turned to see a hooded monk leading a confused and intently curious looking Dao Ming towards them!  “Dames?” Dao Ming said as she entered the chamber, clearly baffled as she too took in the sight of the massive laboratory, “What is the meaning of all this?” The monk that had led Dao Ming here bowed to Abbess Serene and moved to join his fellows elsewhere in the lab, while the Abbess herself cleared her throat and addressed the gathered ponies and kirin.  “I will try to be concise in my explanation, but this may be somewhat difficult to understand, so I only ask you hold your questions until I am finished,” she said, and made a gesture with one, lean hoof at the surrounding chamber. “What you see here is the central part of a research foundation that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna founded twelve hundred years ago, after the fall of Rengoku. It’s sole purpose is to study all forms of magic that exist in this world, from all species, and from that research develop a means to permanently and safely dispose of the fortress of Rengoku... and free those still trapped inside.” She didn’t give the mares time to do more than look at each other in confusion. From many of their expressions, especially Trixie and Dao Ming’s, the desire to ask questions was near overpowering, but they did as the Abbess had asked and kept quiet. Abbess Serene smiled and nodded her thanks, and continued. “I realize how that must sound. When the Warlord, Ying Shen, was defeated, it came at great cost. Of the noble souls who entered the fortress to confront her, only two came back out. Dao Ming’s ancestor, and daughter of the Warlord herself, and a unicorn mare of extraordinary talent. However they’d been accompanied by six other companions, all of whom lost their lives in the battle. Furthermore, Rengoku is no ordinary place. The magics used to create the fortress draws in life energies from anything around it to power its core. That is why devastation was always left in its wake, not simply because of the power of its weapons, but the fact it drained the very land itself. Fortunately this suction wasn’t strong enough to drain sapient creatures, with stronger life force, without excessive exposure. However, if one dies while in proximity to the fortress, then one’s remaining essence, magic, and very spirit are absorbed into the fortress’ core.” Trixie couldn’t help herself at that point, shaking her head in flabbergasted bewilderment as she said, “You’re saying whatever nut cases built this thing essentially created a flying fortress that eats souls? That’s insane.” “Rengoku was a weapon meant to fight the alicorns,” the Abbess said, “Clearly no boundaries were considered in whatever eons ago conflicted it was built for. Regardless, the fortress was either never fully completed, or was damaged in that ancient war, but the Warlord discovered it in the Dark Lands and restored it for her own use.” Dao Ming cut in, eyes narrowing sharply, “When you said ‘free those trapped inside’, you’re referring to the souls of the slain champions who fell in defeating the Warlord?” “And the Warlord herself, whose soul is also trapped within, after her death on the shores of this island,” Abbess Serene said, “Which is why I asked you to be here to hear this as well, Lady Dao Ming. You and Dame Trixie, you both have experienced... unusual happenings since arriving on the island, correct? Strange compulsions and visions?” Both mares shifted uneasily, sharing a look with each other before Trixie said, “Yes, we have.” “The specter we spoke to told us of the fortress’ soul draining nature,” Dao Ming said, her face hardening into a pinched frown, “I suspected at the time she may have been the Warlord, reaching out to us.” “It is very likely that the one soul trapped within Rengoku who knows the fortress the best has been reaching out towards those with familiar bloodlines,” the Abbess said with grave weight to her tone, her eyes conveying absolute seriousness, “The Warlord herself is likely using the anchors to the barrier as magical conduits to communicate with you. You, Dao Ming, who shares her lineage, and you, Dame Lulamoon, who shares the blood of one who aided in her defeat.” “Wait, are you suggested I’m descended from this, what was her name...?” Trixie thought back to the grave markers she and Dao Ming had been drawn to, the first day of the Contest. “Dazzling Flourish?”  The Abbess just quirked her lips in a knowing half-smile. “The Order does keep detailed records concerning the champions it studies, even if Dazzling Flourish didn’t wish records of her name or deeds spread to the public. We know she settled in the region that eventually became Neigh Orleans, and in the years that followed found a husband and had a... prodigiously sized family. You’d hardly be the only pony living today to have some of her blood in your veins, and it’s likely only a small connection. But enough for the Warlord to recognize and reach out to you, the same as Sun Ming’s direct descendant, Dao Ming.” “And assume we believe any of this,” said Dao Ming, gathering her own wits, “Why would the Warlord do this? To try and raise Rengoku again, somehow? As if I’d cooperate with such a travesty!?” Abbess Serene quickly shook her head, “While the possibility exists, I doubt that is her intent. I rather think instead she feels the fortress waking up, and also senses the intent of those hiding in the shadows. I think she wishes to stop Rengoku’s rise.” “Why would she want that? She was the one who originally raised it, and used it to threaten the entire world!”  The Abbess merely shrugged at that, “Twelve hundred years is a long time to consider one’s mistakes.” “Okay, okay, hold up,” said Lyra, rubbing her head with a hoof as if to forestall a headache, “Why are you telling us this now?” “Because with the Contest nearing its completion, I fear those who are acting against us will make their move soon, and both Princess Luna and I felt it best that you know everything, including the possibility that one of the enemy’s targets will be this lab.” At the Abbess’ words, Dao Ming frowned, “You’ve mentioned this mysterious threat several times now, but I’m afraid I’m not up to speed on what that even is. What are you all talking about?” “Hoo boy, that’s right, no one’s told you anything about that yet, have they?” Carrot Top said, glancing at Trixie, “You, uh, want to field this one? You two seem to be getting more friendly with each other.” “I care less about who tells me, just as long as someone tells me. This being left in the dark is more than a little consternating,” Dao Ming said, and Trixie nodded. “Well, here’s the long and short of it...” she said, and quickly went over what they knew. Which wasn’t really all that much. Kenkuro had warned them of the danger first, then Zecora had gone missing, and not long after that Grimwald had attacked Ditzy Doo. Carrot Top added in her own experience with Prince Frederick in the forest, following a mysterious cloaked figure that she suspected was either a unicorn or kirin. The only distinct there was the use of yellow colored magic.  Dao Ming let out low hiss under her breath, “I wish Kenkuro had trusted me enough to say something.” “He probably didn’t want to distract you from the Contest, or put more worries on your plate,” said Cheerilee, “Between dealing with your... ahem, ‘difficult’ mother, and how seriously you take the Contest, I’m pretty sure Kenkuro was looking out for your best interests.” After a moment of contemplation, Dao Ming said, “Perhaps, but I’d rather have been told. Regardless, this is precious little information. Aside from the fact that Rengoku is the obvious target, so why, Abbess Serene, do you suggest they may attack here? Would they even be aware this place exists?” “While only my fellow senior monks know of this research center, I cannot deny the possibility that it’s existence was somehow leaked. Keep in mind, the Order’s monks travel far and wide, gathering stories and legends, and research materials for our studies here. At any time in the many centuries of doing so, its possible information may have trickled out. While dedicated, we monks are only mortal. We make mistakes. Someone, somewhere, may have said something. As for why the conspirators might target here, I only fear it because our research here contains centuries worth of development data on the magical arts of species from all over the world. It's a repository of knowledge that, in the wrong hooves, could be exceedingly dangerous.” “No different than that gaudy fortress itself,” Trixie said, letting out a frustrated sigh, “An ancient flying death-fortress, or an arcane repository containing magical knowledge collected from all the world’s species for the past twelve centuries. Either one would be insanely dangerous if it was taken by those with ill intent.” “Sun’s ashes, if these slippery jerks got their hooves on both the fortress, and this lab’s research, then that’s the kind of thing that pretty much screams ‘instant world super-power’,” breathed Cheerilee. “Whichever it is, it just means we’ve got to protect this place and the fortress,” Raindrops said with conviction, “In fact, I’d say this whole situation just got easier. Instead of looking around for them, I say we keep watch on here and Rengoku, and let them make their move. We’ll be ready for them, and can make this a clean, stand-up fight as opposed to all this scurrying around.” “I like the sound of that,” said Lyra, “Let them come to us.” Dao Ming looked around at the ponies, her own expression less than sure, and Trixie said, “What are you thinking, Dao Ming?” “Only that protecting both locations while still proceeding with the Contest of Champions would be difficult. I presume, Abbess, that you wanted to keep this information limited to just us, and hence we cannot rely on outside forces to assist us, such as the other champions, or the armed forces brought by any given nation.” “Essentially yes,” Abbess Serene replied coolly, “The existence of this lab should be kept... quiet. While it exists only to develop a means to safely dispose of Rengoku, I fear the nations of the world might not react well to knowing the secrets of their species’s magical talents have been studied without their knowledge.” “Yeah, that sounds like it has ‘international incident’ plastered all over it,” Cheerilee said with a sardonic snort, “And much as I respect Princess Luna, I can’t say it's super shocking she and her sister would’ve set something like this up anyway. Probably thought it was for the best in the long run, and maybe it is. That fortress has got to go, and without blowing up half the world to do it.” “Well, if it makes you feel better, Dame Cheerilee, I do believe we’ve come very close to figuring out how to do exactly that,” Abbess Serene said, “I won’t numb your mind with the details, but recent developments from this very Contest of Champions has opened up an avenue of research that I’m told by my colleagues may well allow us to diffuse the energies of Rengoku’s core safely. Specifically, your summoning of Raijin during the Grand Melee resulted in some very interesting readings from Rengoku itself, and we suspect Shouma’s spirits may show us a means of dealing with the fortress.” “Oh, how so?” asked the kirin with keen interest. “As I said, I won’t go into detail. There isn’t time for that anyway. However you are the very first kirin to summon such a powerful Shouma spirit outside the realm of Shouma itself. Spirits, while magic, are still innately different than most other forms of magical beings we’re familiar with. Given Rengoku spent so much time dormant in Shouma before the Warlord found it, we suspect it’s tied to the spirits of Shouma in some manner. It will require further research, but we’re optimistic as to where this may lead us.” “That’s great news, but back to the present, what do we do now?” asked Carrot Top, “I mean, what’s our game plan?” “For now, I suggest we don’t give up on searching for Zecora,” said Trixie, “But we should keep someone here at this lab from now on. There’s two more Contests left, Wit and Magic. I suggest at least one of us sit out each one to stay on guard here.” Raindrops raised a wing, “Consider me volunteered. I know I’m not stupid or anything, but Wit probably won’t be my strong suit, and I’ve got nothing to bring into Magic besides my weather control, which I’m average at anyway. Besides, I think I stole plenty of the spotlight from the rest of you during the last competition already.” Trixie considered that for a moment, then gave a surprisingly reluctant nod, “I can’t gainsay your reasoning, Raindrops. Much as I’d like to have you watching me crush the Contests of Wit and Magic, you’re probably the best one to guard here.” “Hmph,” Dao Ming gave a polite snort, “‘Crush’ the remaining Contests, will you? I have come to appreciate your gumption, but do try to recall you have some competition remaining, Trixie Lulamoon.” “Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” Trixie said with a smirk that suggested her attitude was partially to remind Dao Ming of their rivalry and maybe give the kirin a friendly nettling. “I don’t suppose there’s anyone you’d trust to help Raindrops guard this spot?” Dao Ming didn’t think on it long, “Kenkuro. Assuming the Abbess approves of my telling him of this place, I can think of no other more capable than he.” “Won’t he want to keep participating in the Contest?”  asked Carrot Top. “He has... withdrawn himself from the Contest,” replied Dao Ming, her face clouding, “He believes he can better serve his duty to protecting the Empress, Shouma, and myself by not being distracted by the Contest." Trixie recalled her conversation with Kenkuro, "He was feeling responsible for what happened to our friend, Ditzy. I didn't think he needed to withdraw from the Contest, but I wasn't about to argue with him over it, either." Dao Ming cast a glance at Trixie, "What happened wasn't his fault. But... you're right, once his mind is made up, it's usually pointless to try and change it. Abbess, is it acceptable to allow Kenkuro to help guard this laboratory?" “That is more than acceptable,” Abbess Serene said with a wide smile, “I will feel much more comfortable with the Blade of Heaven providing his talents to protecting these chambers.” “Speaking of chambers,” Trixie said, “Has there been any progress in searching the caverns beneath this monastery? The specter of the Warlord mentioned them, but I haven’t heard anything on the search of those areas.” Serene’s face turned dour as she hung her head, “Sadly, even with assistance from guard elements from Equestria and Cavallia both, my fellow monks have found nothing yet among the numerous caves beneath our hooves. Those cave systems are much older than the monastery itself, and stretch all over the island. They’ve never been properly mapped, either.” “It’s far too perfect a place for a bunch of ne'er-do-wells in tacky cloaks to be hiding out for some unpleasant shenanigans,” said Cheerilee, “Seriously, what is it with cults and weirdos using caves for this crap?” “Dark, secluded, and nopony normally goes into them on their own?” suggested Lyra, “I mean, I could recount a hundred or so stories where the baddies use caves for exactly those reasons. Thing is, if our bad guys are using those caves, doesn’t that kinda suggest whoever’s among them knows the caverns pretty well? Abbess, you said they were never fully mapped, right? But that means someone, at sometime, did map the place.” “I see where you’re going with this, Dame Heartstrings,” the Abbess said, “The last surveyor who charted any the caverns died some decades ago, and we’ve sent none else since then. The maps themselves are not restricted in our records, meaning anyone, at anytime, could have made copies of them.” “...Well, shoot, thought we might’ve had a lead there,” Lyra said with disappointment.  “As it stands, Abbess, do you object to my friends and I searching these caverns ourselves?” asked Trixie, and at the Abbess’ questioning look, she added, “I don’t know that we’ll find anything more ourselves that those who’ve already searched could, but we’ve got a habit of stumbling across things at opportune moments. The Contest of Wit won’t take all day tomorrow, and that’s tomorrow anyway. Plenty of time for us to take a crack at the search.” “I would like to accompany you,” said Dao Ming. “Really?” said Raindrops, “You’re not above crawling through some dingy caves? Won’t your Imperial Sick Up Her Bum disapprove?” Dao Ming’s eyes flashed for an instant, then swiftly cooled as she said, “What the Empress does or does not approve of is no longer something I’m incredibly concerned with. As for crawling around in dirty caves... I’ve been covered in the mud and blood of battlefields before, Dame Raindrops. This won’t bother me, and my mantra for spirit calling could prove useful in discovering what others may have missed.” “Good point, and I don’t have an issue with you coming along,” said Trixie, “Your spirits helped us on the beach, they might do the same here.” “Another consideration,” the Abbess Serene said, her face pensive yet deeply thoughtful, “If our foes are somehow planning their actions around the Contest, we may be able to throw them off their timetable.” “How so?” asked Trixie. “The Contest of Wit will not likely take long,” the Abbess said, giving a wry half smile, “Minor spoilers, we’ve devised a series of culturally oriented puzzles and riddles for your teams to solve, with the teams earning points based on how many are solved, and how quickly within a two-hour time limit. It will be done by mid-morning. Normally that would leave the rest of the day and the next for further festivities, but we could merge the Contest of Magic into the same day, taking place late afternoon.” “What would that accomplish, though?” asked Carrot Top, but Dao Ming was nodding. “I see,” said the kirin, “If these conspirators have a plan that requires time, by doing the Contest of Magic tomorrow alongside the Contest of Wit, we rob them of further time to prepare whatever it is they’re devising.” Trixie hopped onto the idea too as she had a different thought, “It might even make them rush their plans in a panic. Force them to make a mistake and reveal themselves before they planned to. Nice thinking, Abbess.” The Abbess humbly bowed her head, “I try. As it happens we’d already done most of the groundwork for the Contest of Magic as well, so finishing preparations for it early won’t be a problem. I can make the announcement later today, so the other champions and visitors know.” “Well heck, that sounds like a game plan to me,” said Cheerilee, “So, since Carrot Top’s got a hot boat date with a deer, and Lyra’s got some personal time planned for her and Bon Bon, why don’t we all meet back at the monastery around, say, six o’clock? We’ll search the caverns for a few hours and still have plenty of time to catch some shut-eye before a big day tomorrow.” “Sounds good to me,” said Raindrops. “Tres bon,” agreed Trixie. “You’re dating a deer?” asked Dao Ming. “Not dating, just... seeing,” Carrot Top said with a flushed face. “I don’t understand the distinction. Is this an Equestrian concept? Seeing someone but not actively courting them?” asked the bewildered Dao Ming, to which Lyra just placed a chummy hoof on the kirin’s withers. “Don’t think about it too hard, Ming. We don’t.” “...I shall take this advice.” ---------- Sometime later Zecora awoke to find the vast chamber she was in was now almost entirely lit with an eerie mix of blue and green light. The columns lining either side of the gigantic chamber were easier to see now, and bore an architectural resemblance to the harsh geometric angles on some of the exterior elements of the fortress Rengoku. Not precise copies, but remarkably close.  The light was stemming from the expansive magical circle carved into the cavern floor, its intricate symbols and interlocking lines so dense that in some places the light looked entirely solid. The air brimmed with the gathered magical energies, and it made Zecora wonder how nopony could sense it. Was it simply because they were too far underground? Grimwald remained on watch, and saw her awake. He came over to her cage with a dagger thin smile, and offered her a bowl of still warm stew he’d already half eaten. “Freshly stolen from the kitchens,” he said, “Figure you must be getting peckish by now.” Zecora looked to the bowl, then after considering there was little point to poisoning her, she took it and began to eat silently. Grimwald rolled his eyes, “Not even a simple ‘thank you’.” “You keep my prisoner against my will, and may yet kill me still,” she replied in a curt manner after she was done slurping down the stew, “If it is my gratitude you wish to win, you should sit upon a cactus and spin.” Grimwald reacted with an honest and hearty guffaw, “You know, that rhyming bit may be getting old, but I can’t say it doesn’t work for you. I think I’ll try it myself, sometime, see if I can come up with any good ones. Seriously, though, what do you do when you have to bring ‘orange’ into a conversation?” Even if they weren’t interrupted, Zecora wouldn’t have answered the question. As it was, another of the cloaked conspirators entered the chamber, and Grimwald turned to watch them approach. “Plans have changed,” said the cloaked figure, a female by the voice, “We do this tomorrow.” “Why the rush all of a sudden?” asked Grimwald, his eyes actually showing a gleam of pleasure, “Things not working out like you planned?” “There’s merely no reason to delay longer,” replied the cloaked figure, “The search is growing closer, and our comrade has assured us the final component can be brought into place faster than anticipated. There’s no point is putting off what must be done. Be ready. Tomorrow, Rengoku rises, and the final Contest of Champions will be brought to an end.”