//------------------------------// // 160 - Respect Mah Authoritay! // Story: An Extended Holiday // by Commander_Pensword //------------------------------//  Extended Holiday Chapter 160: Respect Mah Authoritay! “First off, I'd like to thank you for making time to speak with me, Lord Hammer Strike.” Nightshade inclined his head. “Your schedule must be busy, and I wouldn't want to hold you up.” “It’s perfectly fine. I cleared up some time for this meeting, actually,” Hammer Strike replied. “Honestly, I didn’t know how long it would take, so I cleared a couple hours, just in case.” “I appreciate your forethought. The inspection of the colony has been going well, but I thought there were a few matters I needed to ask your own input on.” Nightshade brought out a folder. “The documents I have for the land allocation are almost entirely from the Thestral side. The only one from your end was a late allocation permit from an ‘After Thought’ for an area of land smaller than the current colony.” Hammer Strike sighed. “After Thought’s version is going to be the more accurate one.” He began sorting through a few drawers in his desk. “One moment. I should have the exact measurements.” He fished out a large scroll with the label Segment Two, Sector Three. “Here you are.” “This is a lot shorter than the land the Thestrals are currently using,” Nightshade noted. Hammer Strike rubbed his forehead. “I’ve had the conversation with Pensword a couple of times by this point, but it seems to miss its mark each time. Honestly, I’ve been tempted to go down there and start dealing with it myself, but I’ve been putting some faith in Pensword to fix it.” Nightshade sighed. “I’ll be bringing this up with him, and Luna, if need be. If this got out, it could be bad for the reputation of our people.” “Hence why I’ve been holding off on going down there myself.” He sighed. “It doesn’t help that he’s been suddenly working on a warehouse and airship dock to add on to it all.” “I thank you for your patience, Lord Hammer Strike. I’ve noticed that aside from the … dwarves? I believe they call themselves, I’ve seen Gryphons about lending their stone work or other skills to building your city. What are the Thestrals doing for New Unity?” Hammer Strike blinked a few times before bringing a hoof up to his chin. “Occasionally, the smiths end up buying some leather from them.” “Is that it?” “To be honest, the other thing they supply is some form of assistance to the economy by purchasing resources, though they have some debt as of now. They don’t add on much, but they keep adding more to work with.” “That's something we’ll have to work on. It will be harder to integrate with the rest of Equestria if we don’t have anything to offer.” Nightshade nodded. “Are there any other concerns you’d like to bring up with me?” “Honestly?” Hammer Strike sat back in his chair. “I hardly know them, any of them, besides the ones that enrolled into my guard units. I don’t know a thing that goes on out there until it’s happening or has happened. I have no idea what to give you for concerns.” Nightshade frowned. “I’ll work on that immediately. You are the ruling noble of the area. You should be able to have a connection with all of your people.” “Honestly, at this point, I feel like I had better connections during the Third Gryphon War, and I worked solo.” “That was neither the intention nor the wishes of Princess Luna.” Nightshade nodded. “I suppose the last issue I need to bring up with you is the possibility of making use of some of your forges until we can get something suitable made in the colony itself. Princess Luna wants Thestrals to have their own distinctive style on the battlefield, and some Thestral smiths are making their way here to work on that issue.” “I believe there is some free space in the forges. I’d offer you the use of my forge, but it’s kept at a much higher temperature than most can handle.” He reached into his coat and began searching around. After a moment he pulled out a fang-like dagger marked by his house symbol and using rare resources. He held it out for Nightshade. “I trust you, as you work as the right hoof of Luna. With this emblem, you carry my authority in my land.” Nightshade took the dagger with a deep bow of the head. “I am honored by your trust, Lord Hammer Strike, and will do my best to be worthy of it.” “I’m positive you will.” Zecora sipped idly at a cup of tea and peered across the table at her brother as they sat around the stump table that had grown in her tree. “Vital Spark. It’s been some time. And I must say this tea blend is simply sublime.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Vital chuckled. “You know, it’s odd. I feel so at home in this place now, but I’m still not sure exactly what I want to actually do once my training is complete. I mean, Trixie and I will have to make a future for ourselves together eventually. And that future may take us away from here. I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that. And then there’s the whole responsibility of being an ambassador between the worlds, assuming that we can actually create a stable connection between Earth and Equis again.” “The future isn’t my area of expertise, Vital. You know that,” she said in Zwahili. “I’m not asking for a fortune, Zecora, just a place to vent about some of my anxieties. There’s going to be a lot of work ahead. And a lot of danger. I’m not really sure where my place is supposed to be in all that, and that makes me uneasy.” Zecora lowered her cup and sighed. “It’s the nature of mortals to bear such things. Doubts, fears, anxiety. All these act as reminders to cherish the time we have in life. I would be worried about you, if you weren’t at least somewhat anxious.” “Speaking of mortality, what of you? Do you know how long things are going to continue for you?” “Long enough. I have grown used to the weight of the years. It helps having people I trust to talk to about it. Until you came back, I had to rely on a mischievous Satyr named Azeez.” “There are Satyrs here?” Vital asked with some surprise. “One very special one.” She smiled warmly. “Gaia loves him very much.” “And what about you?” Zecora shrugged. “He is what he is. Like me, he watches over some very important secrets.” “And some very ancient magics, I would guess.” Zecora smirked. “Naturally.” “Anybody else who’s outside the norm that I should know about?” Zecora chuckled.“Now where would be the fun in telling you that? In the words of a Hippogriff I met once, ‘spoilers.’” “So, Day Moon, why must you never pick a mandrake root without ear protection?” Grif asked the thestral foal. They were currently working on their nightly lessons. “Their cry would kill you.” “Yes,” Grif agreed. “Now, if they’re so deadly, why are they kept around?” Day Moon stifled a yawn. “It helps ease pregnancy, and they have other healing factors as well.” Grif nodded. “Mandrakes have the ability to cure non-stone-based petrification as well. I’m glad to see you’ve been keeping up to your reading. Has Ping been working you hard while I've been away?” “Yes. Father is a little worried about my last batch of fletching. I did them half asleep, and he inspected them before I could go back and fix them.” “Yeah. Eventually, you’ll get used to working on less sleep. Honestly, given the nature of creatures you’ll hunt, you should be thankful you’re nocturnal naturally.” “That’s what Ping and my father said. He’s been reading up on the Civilian access information, so he can plan in defenses for Colonies and cities as they’re being built.” “Unfortunately, there is only so much you can defend against, and only so much that will work all the time. Wolfsbane is a good example of how common knowledge can be wrong. Many would tell you wolfsbane is a good poison against werewolves, and they’d be dead wrong. Lycanthropy causes them to heal far too quickly for it to do more than irritate them. Do you know what creature you use wolfsbane against?” Grif asked. “The Canine Skinwalker,” Day Moon responded immediately. “Okay, so if you're facing an undead, why is it important to know their religious beliefs before going after them?” “Because I wouldn’t use a Gryphon Wind Talisman on an Undead Diamond Dog. “Good job. When it comes to undead, it comes down to faith, both yours and theirs. If they have no faith in the god you’re trying to bring to bare against them, he has no direct power over them. So how goes your crossbow training?” “Doing well. Dad’s been letting me use his first crossbow,” Day Moon replied. “It’s a bit different, but then again, he said you’d understand which one when I said Chewbaca.” He frowned in confusion. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m guessing you won’t tell me, even if I ask.” He sighed. “Either way, I’m nowhere as good as Dad is.” “Have you been working on getting the ability to sanctify water?” Grif asked. “I’m not old enough for that, according to Dad. Till I am, Dad says he’ll provide a steady supply. There’s more power if the water is provided from a family member.” Grif nodded as he set several vials down for the Thestral. “Careful with these. This is the most versatile weapon we possess. The greater part of our quarry is weak to this.” Day Moon slowly and gingerly began to pack the vials with his supplies. “Thanks for marking them,” he said. Grif fixed the young Thestral with a piercing stare. “You’re marked, Day Moon. You know that, right?” Day Moon nodded. “Yes. High Cheiftess Luna said that even if I didn’t take this path, those that lurk in the shadows would hunt me out first.” Grif nodded. “I know you're young. And were it within my power, I’d keep you hidden until you’re ready. But, unfortunately, you are a beacon to those you would hunt. You must always be ready. Never let your weapons be out of arm's reach, even when you sleep. And keep these vials close by along with salt and wrought iron.” “I keep a set of wrought iron horseshoes under my bed and pillow. Salt is in a pouch that I can reach and throw quickly.” “Good. In a few weeks, we may go out to hunt, and you can get your first taste of what we’re going to be doing.” “If you say I’m ready for my first hunt, I’ll go.” Grif chuckled mirthlessly. “Being ready is a myth. No one is truly ready. Have you found a weapon you can use better than a sword yet?” “Well, I seem to be developing an unusual knack for the whip.” Grif laughed loudly at hearing that. “That's too good.” He took a few moments to collect himself. “I’ll see about getting to work on something for you, then.” “Thank you?” Day Moon questioned. “Don’t thank me yet. You go get some rest, take the next couple of nights off.” Grif’s shoulders continued to bounce with mirth as he casually dropped a small sack of bits and rose to leave. “Maybe take some time to try and impress a certain filly.” He winked. Day Moon blushed hard at the words. “If you say so.” He stood up and finished packing his supplies while his ears and eyes swivelled for any signs of a surprise attack. Painful experience had taught him Grif and Ping were not above such tactics, and neither would any other creature of the night he faced. Still, one question weighed almost as heavily as the pouch when he picked it up. What would he do with Scootaloo? If asked, most people in Unity would likely tell you that the fortress did not possess a greenhouse of any sort. If you asked Clover the Clever, you’d probably wake up somewhere in Zebrica with your memory scrambled. And so it was that Vital Spark found himself dressed in thick gardening gear looking upon a massive glass and stone structure filled with various plants, most of which where lazily soaking up the sunlight above, a fact that was even more mind boggling as the structure was nearly a full mile below ground. “Quartz or sunstones?” Vital asked curiously as he gazed up at the ceiling. “Or is it more space manipulation?” “A little bit of all three and a few other things. Primarily, the light comes from several small artificial suns. The glass is more to shield from the harsh light and heat. “I’m gonna guess you came up with this magic after Celestia already came into the picture?” “I didn’t make them,” Clover admitted. “I just set them in place.” “Hammer Strike?” “Yes.” Clover nodded. “They became unneeded on the surface, so I brought them down here. It meant I could keep fresh reagents available, even the dangerous kind.” “... This place must have been overrun when you visited it after your release, then. Just how much of the original herbs and plants were left?” “Not entirely.” Clover chuckled. “Even I couldn’t look after this place constantly. I had some help, of course.” “Golem, spirit, or something else?” His answer came with a strange pig-like squeal as a small bipedal creature appeared nearby. It had orange skin that was covered in a thin layer of brown hair and wore ramshackle cloth and moss patches on its body. Its face had a flat pig-like snout and dark eyes. “G’day, Missus. You bein’ visitin’ us today?” the creature asked curiously. “Good morning, Urthcap.” Clover smiled warmly. “I and my assistant have just come to harvest a few of the mandrakes for an experiment.” She turned and motioned to the white Unicorn with her horn. “Urthcap, this is Vital Spark. He’ll be working with me for a while, so you’re likely to see him here occasionally.” Clover gestured to the unicorn. “Vital, this is Urthcap the hobgoblin. He and his family tend to the greenhouse for me.” Vital smiled and extended a hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Urthcap.” “Pleasure’s bein’ all mine, Messir.” The hobgoblin gratefully shook the hoof. “It being a long while since we seen a new face down here.” “I hope you don’t mind a fellow with two faces.” Vital chuckled as he levitated the earmuffs from his satchel. “Though I promise you I’m not one to actually be two-faced.” “If’n the missus trusts ye, then ye’re welcome here.” The hobgoblin gave a bow. “Enjoy your time with the babes. I bein’ round, if’n you need me.” And with that, he was gone. “Just how many fae are there here in Equis?” Vital asked as he levitated the spare pair of earmuffs to his mentor. “Not many. Fae are a rarity these days. In the past, they used to come and go quite often. My research has said Breezies were likely originally pixies at one point. Anything too alien seemed to vanish, and only the more bestial types like hobgoblins stayed around,” Clover said as she accepted the pair. “So, this is basically going to be like Harry Potter, then,” Vital surmised. “The earmuffs protect us from their screams and we just have to put them away to help quiet them before we go back to the lab, right?” “Sort of. I need one whole,” Clover admitted. “A few clippings should be fine for the rest.” she led him down rows of plants of various types and looks. At least twice, Vital was sure he’d narrowly escaped getting snared in a vine or hit by a projectile thorn. He made sure to stay far away from the toothy bulb that was begging him to feed it. Finally, they found what they were looking for in several rows of plants with large wide leaves and violet flowers. “Wow. Gotta say, you’ve done a great job here. Those hobgoblins really do know their stuff. The nature spirits are very happy.” “Hobgoblins are very attuned to nature. It’s just that Ponies usually mistreat them, so they don’t feel motivated to make use of it. I suppose Fluttershy would say all it takes is a little kindness.” Clover chuckled. Vital soon joined her. “You know she would. It’s like her catchphrase.” “Okay. Earmuffs on,” Clover instructed as they approached the plant. Vital nodded and followed her example. Next, he levitated a pair of shears from the gardening pack. Clover ignored the shears in favor of wrapping the stalk in her magic. She carefully pulled the root free of the earth. Instantly, they were greeted with the features of a small foal made entirely of the flora’s root screaming like an angry child. Clover’s horn began to glow and vital felt a strange pull in the air. The magic felt similar to heartsong, yet fundamentally different as, even through his earmuffs, a beat began to play through his head. The melody in her magic surrounded them as Clover took the plant in her forhooves like a child and rocked it gently, cooing softly at it. The mandrake slowly turned from screaming to sobbing, then from sobbing to a soft mewling. She rocked the now dozing root gently as she summoned a deep wooden bowl from the air and set it on the ground. Then she pulled out a bottle of milk and poured it into the bowl and carefully set the mandrake inside it. The foal shifted fitfully for a few tense seconds, then settled contentedly. Carefully, clover enveloped plant and bowl in her magic, then teleported it to her lab, where it would wait under a sound-proof cover for her return. “What was that?” Vital asked when the deed was finished. “Mandrakes look like foals for a reason,” clover noted. “If you wake a sleeping child, you generally need to mother it to get it back to sleep, make it feel comfortable and safe. A little mother’s milk added to the mix and they’ll remain calm, barring anything major happening.” “I meant more the song. How did you project it?” “That's my secret.” She winked. “So, it’s not necessary for me to know whatever spell or technique you used, so long as I’m able to sing a proper lullaby to help them go to sleep?” Clover nodded. “Now come. We’ll get the clippings next.” Clover waved a hoof. “Will we need the muffs for this one, too?” “Do you have some other way to counter the instant death scream?” Clover asked. “Oh, I thought you meant the leaves, not the root.” Clover deadpanned. “Vital Spark, the leaves are only useful when fulfilling a curse.” “... Oh. My bad.” “Let’s just get on with it.” Nightshade waited patiently. Lord Hammer Strike had been so kind as to lend him a room in New Unity to have this conversation. It wasn’t likely to be pleasant, and he’d prefer it be away from the ears of the colony at this time. The makeshift office was a relatively large, sparsely decorated sitting room. It held little more than a large table and chairs. The Thestral was currently sitting at the head of the table with his sword placed before him. The door opened slowly to reveal Pensword’s familiar frame. He jingled slightly as he stepped into the sitting room. The light flowed over his body as he approached, revealing the formal attire of his honorary rank. He pulled his helmet off and cradled it in one of his forehooves as he walked to the table and took a chair next to the guard. “You called me, Captain Nightshade. I assume that means you have more to discuss about the settlement?” “A lot to discuss, I’m afraid,” Nightshade said in a tepid tone. Pensword nodded. “Then we’d best get to it. I don’t know how long the others can keep Moon River occupied, and I don’t want her to disrupt our meeting.” “Let's start with your unauthorized use of lands, then,” Nightshade said. “You mind elaborating why you thought it was okay to simply take land from Lord Hammer Strike?” “If you’re referring to the lack of initial paperwork, I will admit that was my oversight, one that I corrected when it was brought to my attention. However, judging by your expression, there is far more that you have found lacking.” He took a deep breath to brace himself. “Tell me.” Nightshade kept his tone cool and placid. “Luna has charged me with improving our tribe and how it is viewed by the public. Even if the fact you took land and asked for it later wasn’t a scandal that could make that task infinitely harder, the fact you’ve taken more land than you’ve been allotted would. It’s by Hammer Strike’s own grace that this damaging information hasn’t been leaked out, Pensword, but this can’t happen again. You were entrusted to be the leader of this project with your mates, and you have allowed it to get far out of control. “Your wives at least have the excuse of both having full time labor under Hammer Strike’s forces and mothering. You, on the other hoof, have been investing heavily into starting up a personal business, focused on spoiling your children, and have spent an inordinate amount of your personal time away from the settlement itself, only a fraction of which is justifiable by your duty to the sight you were granted as a foal. And when you have visited it, you’ve looked in pride on how the Ponies under your care have flagrantly broken the law, because you haven’t informed them otherwise. “Once again, let me be clear. There can be no more building outside the codes and no more excuses. Step up and be the leader you were called to be; or else resign from the position and let another be appointed in your stead. At this point, those are your options. Do you understand, Commander Pensword?” Pensword’s face paled as he processed each blunt criticism. His hooves ground as they slid slowly back from the table, his jaw clenched, and his wings trembled as they struggled to hold even tighter to his sides. Breathing became difficult as pride warred with guilt and humility. He had tried so hard. First he neglected his lessons and lost the right to be taught by his friend and lord. Then he lost the power necessary to protect his little filly in an effort to assemble an artifact Hammer Strike required. Had he done that out of loyalty or merely out of a desire to relive the old adventures, to be important, … to not be left behind? Had he really become so accustomed to the limelight? Was he … lazy? He was so happy to see his people thriving again, to watch families and foals given new life away from abuse and pain, to give them a chance to learn of their heritage and be proud. And yet that pride was founded on their dedication to tradition, to honor, to truth. He threw everything he had into his studies to become a proper soldier and commander. Where was that fire now? Where was that dedication? Misplaced. There could be no other answer. He wanted to help provide funds for himself, and more importantly the settlers. But his efforts would take time to yield results, and time was not on their side. Taxes, rent, economics. These simple things had taken him too long to discuss. And all the while, the settlers had been oblivious, trusting in him, in his leadership. He had committed the ultimate error of any strategist. He’d stretched himself too thin without any form of structure to help him bear the load. Every military bore such a system, and yet he never thought to implement one of his own. The meaning behind Dakota’s words of warning were only too clear now. ‘Baka’ he chided himself internally. Then he sighed heavily and rested his forehead atop one of his forehooves on the table as the tension and adrenaline flooded out his body to be replaced by intense fatigue. “I’ve been such a fool,” he said quietly. Nightshade pressed on. “There is also the issue of Thestral involvement in the community, said involvement being little, if any. You need to have them helping in some way, Pensword.” Pensword nodded. “You’re right.” “Then in Luna’s name, I can say this reprimand has been made.” Nightshade fixed Pensword squarely with his good eye. This time, he allowed an edge to cut through the tepidity. “Let’s pray it doesn’t have to happen again.” Pensword nodded numbly. “You’re dismissed, Commander Pensword.” Gravity felt especially strong as Pensword dragged himself out of the room. The very sight of the decorations of his office seemed to burn him. But dead or not, guilty or not, it didn’t change the fact he had amends to make. And so, he trudged on. He didn’t have time to focus on his guilt. He had a job to do, one he should have done far better. “I will,” he whispered to himself as he turned down the corridor. “I will.” Avalon eyed her students and their most recent creations. “Good. Good. The housing is firm, and the runes appear to be intact. And I see the cores have taken hold. Excellent. Now comes the most important step. Each of you put a piece of yourselves into the creation of these foci. They are going to become, for all intents and purposes, an extension of yourselves and your being. While you will be able to use foci that you haven’t made, there is no guarantee that it will provide the same results as one you have made yourself. That is the power of making.” She turned aside and waved to a cluster of sixteen desks, each grouped into sets of four. One held a series of feathers. One held a group of rocks. The third held a series of leaves suspended between a pair of clamps. And the fourth held a series of empty bowls. “Each of these stations is associated with one of the four elements. Group up in accordance with the element you chose as the core for your foci. Fire to the leaves, water to the bowls, air to the feathers, and earth to the pebbles. This is going to be one of many practical examinations to come. You won’t be graded, but your performance will be judged. Expect criticism and welcome it. It was overbearing pride that led to the evokers’ fall in the first place. That is not to happen under my watch. If any of you have problems with that, you may feel free to leave now. Clover the Clever or one of her students will stand by with a memory spell to ensure you can’t spread the secrets I’ve taught you.” The class was quick to disperse to their various stations. “Good. Good. Now you get to attune your foci to your fields for the first time. Remember the exercises we practiced. The focus is designed to open a channel between you, the Winds, and the primal forces of magic that reside within us. This power, once tapped, may be utilized to cast magic in a manner similar to a Unicorn. This can come in the form of a protective barrier, a healing talisman, or as we are focusing on today, elemental manipulation. Those with air will focus on controlling the currents around a single feather from the table to levitate in the air. Earth will seek to manipulate their pebbles in a similar manner. Water will fill their bowls with liquid extracted from the air around us. And finally, fire will focus on control. You will seek to burn your leaves from the inside out, but—” One of the leaves suddenly combusted and shrivelled, then fell to the base of the desk. Avalon quickly approached and crashed her fist over the offending Gryphon’s head. “No jumping ahead,” she said in a cool and level tone full of menace. “Unless you want to accidentally set yourself on fire.” She smiled at the male. He shuddered in return and riveted his gaze on her. “As I was saying, your job is to only ignite the center of the leaf until the circle starts to expand and consume the rest. At that point, you are to focus on holding back the flame and controlling its consumption of the leaf. Fire is among one of the most dangerous and destructive elements of all. One must respect it and learn control before moving on to combustion and its various applications.” She sighed when she noticed just how few Gryphons there were who had chosen water or earth. “For those of you who were either too afraid or too judgemental of water and earth, allow me to enlighten you as to their unique applications. As creatures of the air, we are automatically and naturally affiliated with wind and fire. The two feed one another to become stronger. However, we also rely on the land and water to live. Our wings eventually tire. Our bodies eventually require sustenance. Earth has the capacity to neutralize the power of air, if properly applied. And water, as I said, is vital to all living things. It can give life or take it away through drowning, freezing, or even removing its presence entirely.” She approached the students and eyed each as they raised their foci. “I want you to think of this class as a shooting range, and me as the range master. Your foci are your bows, and much like in your training as cubs, these are to become an extension of yourselves and your being. You will literally be pouring a part of yourself into it, because you will be channeling your magic through it to generate the desired result. “Now, with that being said, evokers, to the line. This lesson is to focus on control. Air will suspend the feathers in a carefully controlled column. Water will focus on drawing moisture out of the air to fill your bowls. Earth will concentrate on manipulating the pebbles. Make them roll. Have fun with them, if you wish, through competition. But you are not to seek any form of showmanship. This is a lesson in control alone. Fire, you already know what to do. Now then, evokers, raise your foci.” The students did so immediately, recognizing the familiar range master’s order. “Initiate contact with your magic fields.” One by one, the foci each began to glow in their respective colors.  “Feel the flow, the rate of consumption. Get a good sense of the draw and the rhythm as the power flows into your focus and back to you.” She took a minute to walk among her students and analyze the reactions in the foci. When she was satisfied, she nodded. “Now, with tight control, focus on your task, exert your will, and release.” Half an hour later, Avalon groaned as she ran a wet cloth over the fire station. Fortunately, the builders had the insight to ensure the surface was made from a non-flammable material. The polished stone was simple to clean. Unfortunately, her ego and her students’ would not be so easily mended. She had hoped the leaves would prove less than dangerous. One or more of those students had proven particularly adept at creating fire, and not nearly so much with control. The warrior would definitely require personal lessons. Then the water adepts tried to put it out, only to soak the surface and acolytes both. The ones with the air foci tried to generate a wind to hasten drying, which led to greater chaos in the form of several flying desks. ‘Note to self: have study materials bolted to the floor.’ The final station was beyond repair. The stone had been cleaved by a particularly intense competition between two acolytes trying to push the other’s stone off the desk. The two forces clashed so perfectly that they actively generated a force that broke the stones and then rebounded into the table itself with a deafening crack. She sighed again as she looked over the damage. “I’ve really got my work cut out for me.” Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he sorted through an assortment of papers. With Nightshade making changes, it started to give Hammer Strike some paperwork to deal with. The knife had done the trick for dealing with the primary issues that follow change, but he still needed to clear specific changes and use of certain resources. For the most part, he simply agreed to most of the resource costs, though occasionally he would have to deny those that required particular stonework that New Unity was lacking at the moment. It was going to be a lengthy process; he was sure of it. He sighed to himself as he placed his quill down and rubbed his forehead. “Quod si ita solus potest esse simplex,” he muttered to himself. He opened his eyes once more and took in the documents spread over the work surface. Stonework request, supply request for the following: lumber, stone of varying qualities, standard metal brackets, screws, nails, and hinges, and the request for an extension on the allotted time for relocation. Standard stuff, all things considered, but the requests for denser stones were going to be delayed, due to the current count they possessed at the moment. He frowned as he pulled out a new scroll and began writing an acquisition form for denser stones found deeper within the quarry. He lifted his quill off the parchment as a new thought struck him. “I wonder if the dwarves would accept a trade agreement for materials,” he muttered as he tapped his quill against the parchment. He frowned once more as he continued tapping his quill. Sure, the dwarves were likely to agree to the idea, based off his reputation, but he would want to supply something in return to make the trade fully agreeable to both sides, rather than relying on that alone. Perhaps some new equipment would make things interesting. They were offering to fight and build on his behalf, so equipping them with gear made by him would work in favor of both parties. He hummed aloud, still tapping his quill against the parchment as he thought to himself. He’d need to find time for a trip down there, and converse with their president over it, perhaps clear a few things up, see what advancements were made in his absence. His ears perked as someone turned in the direction of his office. Each step was deliberate and replicated marching. The weight was higher in nature, and the pattern was unknown. It was most likely Nightshade. He let a smirk slip. “Just couldn’t let me think on another task, could you?” And then he chuckled. Commander Pensword looked at the gathered representatives in a small antechamber with a table. A closed door separated them from a larger room that held the great meeting hall. He removed his sword and placed it upon the table, then took a deep breath and took the plunge. “Representatives of the chiefs, I have called you here in an emergency meeting for the sake of our future.” He peered over the gathering. “To be blunt, I have failed you. I failed the Thestrals who came to build this community. I failed in my leadership of this settlement’s development. I failed Lord Hammer Strike. And as a result, I have failed our High Chieftess and been chastised accordingly. Because of my folly, six families will have to lose their homes, and four more their outbuildings. I should have been there to prevent this complication from occurring. I was not. As such, I feel it is only right that I offer my resignation as leader of this colony. Will you accept it?” The representatives muttered among themselves in a mixture of wonder and disbelief. “And what is this nature of this grave offense to cause such drastic action?” a representative asked. “I was so focused in preparing my own business to provide for myself and family, and setting up the bill. Worst of all, I was swept up in my own sense of pride at how rapidly you all were expanding. I didn’t even stop to consider the consequences. It wasn’t until the High Chieftess’ representative came to make a survey of the land and our efforts to integrate into the community at New Unity that I was forced to take responsibility.” He sighed. “As a result, our settlement has spread beyond the designated zones that Hammer Strike has granted for our people to build.”  Penword rolled out two maps. One was the map that all the Thestrals had been working over. The overlay was the Official map from Hammer Strike. True to the pegasus’ words, a thorough examination revealed six buildings that had stretched over the original property line, and four smaller rectangular structures to indicate the facilities he’d mentioned. Extra zones had been designated for businesses and other future structures. He then produced a third map that revealed a series of buildings on either side of the territory. “You will note that our zone is meant to be surrounded by other quarters in the city. As such, we are out of designated code. In order to return to code, we must destroy these buildings without compensation, turn over all salvageable materials to Hammer Strike, and make sure we can store the owners’ belongings until we find them a place to live in this or one of the other colonies that have been established. The latter option may be the most viable, given how the influx of foals has pushed us to the limits in an expanding population.” “No compensation?” “I didn’t stutter. We should be grateful none of the settlers are facing prison time or confiscation of valuables in damages. In the eyes of the law, I am a thief for allowing this to come to pass. According to the laws laid down by the Solar Court, I will bear the responsibility for those mistakes, and justly so. Were most of the Solar Nobles in Hammer Strike’s place, they would push beyond me to affect all of you. The High Chieftess is working with Princess Celestia to remove certain laws that could be read as discriminatory, or at least stricter, toward Thestrals. But for that to succeed, all Thestral Colonies must be model Colonies with no exception.” “What you have told us is grave.” The representative lowered his forelegs onto the table, then lit a pipe that had been carefully carved to mimic the scales and maw of a dragon. He toked it a few times and breathed a cloud of smoke from his nose. “I see why you offer your blade to us.” He peered at his fellow representatives. “Do any here require time to converse or consider before rendering a verdict?” The fox representative narrowed her gaze scrutinously at Pensword. “You are right. That was exceptionally foolish. I believe I am prepared to offer my view on the matter.” The viper nodded her head in agreement as she laid a hoof over her belt. “I believe I have my own thoughts ready as well.” The wolf tapped a knife for a few minutes in contemplation. “Me as well.” The Manticore representative huffed in thought before giving a soft nod to himself. “My views are clear to me.” The Lion had his hooves crossed as he thought before he straightened them out and rested his gaze upon Pensword. “As are mine.” “Then it is time to cast the votes.” The dragon representative breathed deeply and sighed a large smoke ring. “This news is grave, but the dragon tribe values honor, and you have demonstrated that tonight. I am willing to grant a second chance, provided the proper oversight is given.” The fox representative shook her head. “He placed our foals and our very livelihoods in danger, and he has demonstrated grave ineptitude. I vote we accept his resignation.” “I would argue that he is guilty of enabling us more.” The viper shook her head. “We are all at fault for this. He is our leader, and he takes the lion's share, but the viper believes we should grant him a probationary period.” “It takes foolishness to lead one’s pack into trouble, but it takes strength to admit it,” the wolf representative said. “I agree on the probationary period.” “As he said, it could have been worse,” the manticore representative frowned. “Much worse. I agree to the probation as well.” “Though I am loathe to admit it, even leaders make foolish mistakes,” the lion representative spoke out. “Let him remain.” “Then that is five votes to refuse the resignation and one to accept.” The dragon looked to Pensword with wizened eyes. “Take up your sword, Pensword of the Bear. The sentiment of this council is that you be allowed a probation. Show us the knowledge and wisdom your tribe is meant to embody as we discuss the next course of action for the settlement.” Pensword removed his sword humbly from the table and slowly slid the blade home. “I … I do have some suggestions. It is obvious that we all can’t be at a place at once. We should begin by forming committees to perform regular inspections of the district and help accomplish administrative duties, including communication with Hammer Strike and his representatives to file paperwork and various documents.” “And a general edict to freeze all farther expansion in the settlement,” the fox representative said. “A full council will have to be called to alert the rest of the populace.” “We should look into ways we can make amends with Hammer Strike over this as well,” the wolf rep noted. “We will do so,” Pensword agreed. “I’m open to suggestions for what we could do. I have an idea, but we should work together. To show penitence, I will let the rest of the council create the committees to avoid any potential for fuss that might arise from the nobles or the people of the settlement. You may have forgiven me, but we don’t know how the rest of the population will react.” “Then it seems we had best get to work. Let us begin with what you had in mind, Commander,” the dragon representative said. “With the restoration of the military imminent, there will be a high demand for training armor, among other basic necessities. There aren’t nearly so many qualified tanners in Equestria as there used to be. As such, I believe that we should offer our services to New Unity as part of our means to contribute to its building. However, as Nightsade told me, we will need to discover and implement other means as well.” “It’s a start,” the fox representative said grudgingly. “Let’s get to it.” Vital Spark smiled as he crossed the bridge over the creek leading to a tall tree house. “Well, Trixie, I hope you’re ready for an interesting tea party.” She laughed. “I’m sure I can handle it.”  Vital smirked. “Famous last words, especially when Discord is involved.” The sight of a glaring rabbit and a large brown bear heralded the presence of Fluttershy’s animal friends. “Just warning you now. The white one bites, in a fashion,” Vital said. “If he doesn’t like you, he’ll do everything he can to make you miserable. The big bear is more chill.” Trixie stared at Angel. Her eyes slitted in a highly predatory fashion. “Well, I hope we won’t have a problem. Although I hear rabbit stew is quite good.” “They are supposed to taste like chicken, but I don’t think you’d want to do that, Trixie. First, it’d spoil your appetite, and secondly, Angel is still one of Fluttershy’s closest animal friends. It’s best not to potentially offend our hostess.” Angel stuck out his tongue at the pair. “However, I’m not one to object to a little discipline, should the need arise.” A cold chill ran down the rabbit’s back as a layer of frost kissed his fur. “So let’s try to all get along for Fluttershy’s sake, hmm?” Angel continued to glare, but didn’t pursue the matter further. The pair passed unmolested to the house door and knocked. The raucous and unmistakable laughter of a certain Draconequus carried through the door, even as a familiar pair of yellow forelegs pulled it aside to reveal a long pink mane and vivid blue eyes. “Oh, Vital Spark, Trixie. Please, come in. We were starting to worry you wouldn’t be able to make it.” “Thanks, Fluttershy. We were a little held up on our way here. Somebody decided it would be funny to prank some of the school kids with some poison joke.” “Poison joke? I thought I felt something tickling my funny bone.” A floorboard dislodged and rose onto its end to stare at the pair with familiar yellow-rimmed red eyes. “You two simply must tell me all about it.” “It seems one Diamond Tiara and her associate Silver Spoon were exposed to the blossom in question on their way home from school. I had to deliver the solution for the antidote, so they could bathe in it,” Vital said. “Though I was tempted to have them stay that way for a few days, just so they could learn the lesson the plant was trying to teach them.” “Oh, dear. What did it do to them?” Fluttershy asked. “I hope it wasn’t too terrible.” “Think of it like a case of reversed circumstances. Diamond had to do whatever people told her, and Silver Spoon literally couldn’t get rid of her followers. They’d accrued quite the collection of Ponies by the time I got there, many of whom were stuck to each other as much as to her.” Discord doubled over with laughter. “Now that’s what I call a turn of fortune. Such a glorious prank deserves a toast!” He snapped his fingers and a set of tea cups appeared to levitate before each of the Ponies. “To whatever dastardly prince or princess dared to stand against the tyranny of a bossy toddler and her sycophant. May friendship smile upon them, bla, bla, bla, etcetera, etcetera, random blessing of chaos. Drink up, everypony!” Trixie looked warily at Vital Spark. Vital shrugged and drank. “Not bad. I’m getting orange and raspberry. With maybe just a hint of … carrot?” His ears trembled for a moment, then surged upward to take the shape of long white bunny ears, accompanied by the sound of a cash register bell. “Vital, your ears,” Trixie noted. “Yeah, I kinda felt the air passing over them. I assume you’re keeping the alterations to a minimum, Discord?” “Random, to be precise. Different flavors, different creatures, different locations. Nothing harmful or permanent.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I know how Hammer Strike would disapprove.” Trixie drank the entire cup of tea in one large gulp. Her eyes flashed for a moment. “Even so,” she said as she spat a marble-like object into the cup. “I’d much prefer less chaos in my tea.” She slid the cup over to him. “Not a fan of transformation?” Vital asked. Then he chuckled. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t mind. I always wondered what it would be like to experience things in other shapes.” “It’s not that I’m not a fan. It’s simply that I think that's a more private specialty.” She gave Vital a wink as Fluttershy proceeded to turn crimson. “Trixie, are you suggesting something for,” he cleared his throat, “a later time?” “Maybe I am.” She chuckled. Vital Spark turned red, both figuratively and literally as he took another sip of his tea. “Oh, my,” Fluttershy said in a suddenly deep voice. She quickly brought her hooves to her face and let out a soft, “Eep!” Discord smiled. “No need to fear, my dear Fluttershy. It was a one time effect. You know how fun our little games can be, and there are some out there who very much enjoyed that little effect.” He winked at no particular direction, completely unobserved. “If this is the opening salvo, I can’t wait to find out what other surprises you have in store for us, Discord,” Vital said. Discord chortled wickedly. “I’m really so very glad you said that, Vital Spark.” He rubbed his hand and paw together and grinned menacingly. “Why, I’ve only just begun….” Pupa had grown in the last year since her mother had failed in taking New Unity. Now, what her Sister had been teaching her, while hard at first, was slowly sinking in. She doubted she could ever unsee or return to the old ways. While she liked the harder red shell she had adopted as a sign of her outward commitment to the ideals of the Everfree Hive, she liked the concept she had seen from boardgames. She thought of changing her own color for the hive when she became a queen. She didn’t want to plan too far in advance, but as one of her teachers warned her, she should plan her own hive where she could. She jumped when she felt both a physical wing and a soothing mental rub from Me-Me. She yelped She paused before asking another question. She paused as she considered the quote. It held a certain wisdom to it, albeit one she shared her sister’s sentiments on. To fight meant to potentially lose troops, troops that would one day be her own children. But if it held such wisdom, perhaps it also held techniques on how to execute such strategies. Me-Me chuckled to herself. Pupa responded. Me-Me explained. Pupa buzzed her wings and tilted her head in confusion. Me-Me put a wing on Pupa’s head while doing the mental equivalent of putting a hoof or finger on her muzzle to stop the river of thoughts. Me-Me offered kindly. Pupa paused and looked a little embarrassed. She shuffled her hooves nervously. Was this some kind of test? Was her sister throwing a curve ball? Me-Me chuckled. Pupa shuddered. A wave of reassurance spread through their mutual connection. Me-Me laughed. A slight spike of excitement and nerves jumped in the connection. Me-Me laughed and nodded. For the first time since joining the Everfree hive, Pupa giggled. And Me-Me smiled. Nightshade sighed as he finished signing the last of the paperwork from his stay. With so much needing to be done, he’d been signing and sealing documents for the last several hours. The temporary office Hammer Strike had lent him was littered with scrolls, missives, messages and other such legal documents as he worked to make the necessary measures for the colony’s future a reality. The blacksmiths would be arriving within the next few days. He had also sent for one of his subordinates to stay and help handle Pensword’s case while keeping an eye on the area. He tapped the quill as he thought about any possible things he’d missed. A knock sounded off the door before it opened to reveal Hammer Strike. “Progress as usual, I take it?” the lord asked. “Yes. Finishing up the last of the paperwork. I have to leave tomorrow to keep up with my timetable.” Nightshade sighed. “A shame. With you around, I’ve finally seen progress in their section of the city.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “But, if Luna needs you elsewhere, you are her captain.” “I’ve sent for one of my closest seconds to come and see to things here. He’s … abrasive, but effective.” “I’m sure he’ll be fine. So long as he can pull his weight, nobody will question him here in New Unity.” “He’ll like that.” nightshade chuckled. “I’ve worked out a few guidelines for the colony. If they stick to them, there shouldn’t be more trouble in the future.” “If they stick to them,” Hammer Strike echoed back with a raised brow. “I’ll mostly hope towards your second than that, I’m sorry to say.” “I can’t say I blame you,” Nightshade admitted. “You’ve been unreasonably patient with them to this point as it is.” “It would simply come back to bite Luna, and if it were something deserved, I would have. But right now, she doesn’t deserve this coming back to her.” “Still, it’s more than most nobles would even consider,” Nightshade noted. “If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just ask.” “You’ve done enough.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “Things are in motion once again, and I can simply hope that it will maintain order this time around.” “Here’s to a profitable future, then.” Nightshade laughed. “You’ll have to stop by sometime in the future, preferably not for business.” Hammer Strike smirked. “Give or take a few months from now, we’ll be looking at quite a commercial district, based off our current outlook. Though I’m sure you’d potentially appreciate my offer toward some adjustments to your equipment.” “Of course, Princess Luna is an excellent smith, but even she wouldn’t turn down such an offer.” “I’ll see to designing some good upgrades for you, then.” He gave a soft chuckle. “I’ll leave you to wrapping up your paperwork. Divine knows it’ll take time.” “I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave.” Nightshade nodded. “Thank you again for everything.” “Think nothing of it. In fact, thank you for getting things done,” Hammer Strike replied as he exited the room. The Thestrals were gathered as the moon rose over New Unity’s training grounds. The majority of the guard had changed shifts, leaving the space open for their use. Each were working hard at their stations. Commander Pensword busy working with some of the younger Thestrals to nock their arrows. His Gryphon bow was mounted on his back and a pair of tomahawks sat in belts on either side of his frame. Lexington and Concord sat on a table to the side, waiting to be taken up at a moment’s notice. Pensword added his bow to join them, opting instead to bind a bandolier of tomahawks around his barrel. A series of five targets had been set up, with the final piece being a stuffed black sigure shaped like a Thestral with glowing red eyes and fangs borne in a snarl to represent the untamed instincts and urges that resided within every warrior. He was about to perform the same maneuver his mother had taught him back before the war. A few private sessions had revealed just how rusty he was with the technique, but he could still execute the blows, albeit slowly. Fortunately, speed was not the important factor here. The form was what mattered most. He shot a look at a yawning Rainbow Dash and Kahn, then smirked before he charged the first target in the gauntlet. The first target, symbol of the demons and fears one faces in the night, fell swiftly to his stroke. The second was usually associated with an ally to the main invading party, and required deftness and agility to evade collision or harm while striking the blow. This was followed by the foe in the distance, the friend turned traitor, and finally the darker aspects of self. Pensword used one tomahawk for each dummy. The first took the form of a Gryphon, with heavy leather armor to reinforce its body and shield from most blows. He had to arc the blow just right to land a fatal strike at its neck. The second foe was a Unicorn. He executed a strategic feint and landed a heavy stroke to its barrel, where straw dust rained down to litter the cobblestones. Next came the form of an immature dragon. This one required a swift upward strike against the scutes from below to get into the hide that lay beneath and shear off the head from its neck. Then came the shape of a Pegasus. These blows landed at the joints where the wings fed into the armor, simultaneously cutting strings that bound the armor in place and severing both wing stalks. He raked down the dummy’s back for greater damage before turning on his final target. He embedded the remaining tomahawks in the final dummy’s throat and chest, and finished with a powerful buck to its back. The support and artificial frame that held the dummy aloft snapped under the force of the blow, and the figure crumpled to the ground. The entire sequence took him a total of two minutes and thirty seconds. THUD! In a clear part of the field near where Pensword stood, a bit of loose dust shot into the air as the figure settled. He was a Thestral, possibly one of the largest the commander had ever seen. He stood a head taller than the colony’s tallest warrior and wore full plate mail, which was more impressive when the gathering finally realized he’d been flying in it. Most Thestrals only wore full plate for ground engagements, as its general weight made flying difficult, if not impossible. His mane was primarily a deep crimson, but held long streaks of silver that seemed familiar to Pensword. His fur was almost pitch black that complemented his stern face and dark eyes. His platemail was composed of blackened metal sheets that looked almost half a hoof thick in places. Large pauldrons had a giant flat spike emerging at an angle with two smaller spikes above it. The front knee joints had a smaller but still significantly sized spike emerging that pointed upward. He wore a red sash around his waist and a large white cape. A large greatsword with a black wavy blade was attached to his back. The cross hilt curved downward at a crescent with small spikes shooting down toward the handle. The handle itself was more than two feet long with a spiral white wrap covering the first foot. There was a small arrow-shaped separator where it ended, followed by an unwrapped blackened section that ended in a spiked pommel. The general look on his face spoke louder than words that he would handle no nonsense as he examined the arena. “So, which one of you dumbstruck rookies is Pensword?” the stallion questioned loudly. “Over here!” Pensword called. “I’m just cleaning up after some training.” The Pony had just finished retrieving his tomahawks, and was now picking up the broken artificial limbs to mount back onto the support structures that were still intact. Even as he did so, his stomach clenched. He recognized the air of command well enough, and this Pony radiated it. Was he about to lose his rank? Was this Thestral seeking an audience? How did Hammer Strike do this sort of thing? How did Grif? “What, the training sessions are already over this early into the night?” the stranger questioned. He looked up to the sky for a moment, then shrugged to himself before turning back to Pensword. “So, you’re the one I was sent to look after.” Pensword looked at the Thestral in utter confusion as replacements were carried over to the stands and laid into position. He finished removing the remains of his carnage, then straightened to look back at the warrior. “I suppose so.” He shrugged, then motioned toward the new targets with a hoof. “Can’t train on broken dummies.” He sighed, then muttered under his breath. “And apparently I need a babysitter now, because I don’t know which way the moon sets.” “Well, what did you expect? The council approved of you going on probation, rather than kicking you off.” He shrugged. “And as much as I really didn’t care for the job, they needed somepony of higher rank to watch over things.” Pensword grit his teeth tightly, but held his tongue. The thestral looked over Pensword a few times before shrugging. “For now, I guess I’ll leave you to training. Right now, I’ve got to check in with the lord of this land.” He sighed. “And to get it out of the way, the name’s Eclipse Darkbane, second in command of the Lunar Guard. I’m sure you’ll find it hard to forget.” Then he turned away from Pensword and those training as he headed toward the entrance of the castle with his cape billowing behind like a scarlet banner that proclaimed louder than words that change was coming.