//------------------------------// // 85. Tripartite - Part Three // Story: Letters From a Little Princess Monster // by Georg //------------------------------// Letters From a Little Princess Monster Tripartite - Part Three Tempest Shadow was dead. She was fairly certain of that one particular point, since nothing on her entire body hurt. Or maybe she was insane. That much pain had snapped something inside her head, and she was going to spend the rest of her life in a padded room, eating pudding. That made more sense than the scent of sweetened tea mixed with thick, rich coffee. She opened one eye. Two small violet eyes peered back. “Sorry it hurt,” said the very small Twilight Sparkle, although there was something wrong that took opening a second eye before Tempest realized what it was. The little alicorn’s glowing mane was flowing like a river, while the two alicorns to her side had more hair-like manes now, one coal black and the other a flat pink. It seemed rather impolite to ask “Am I dead?” or other questions that she could get the answers to herself, so Tempest cautiously stood up, taking quick inventory of her body parts in case any of them had fallen off while she was unconscious. The silence in the room was nearly painful, with three alicorns looking at her rather oddly, and the batpony servant remaining almost invisible against the doorframe next to the hulking dark pegasus who was obviously her husband. If it were not for the charred remnants of her four hoof-boots scattered across the shiny section of glassed granite surrounding her, and the faint prickling sensation all over her body where a smooth and unblemished coat of perfect hair had replaced her scroungy scratched hide, she might not have believed anything had happened at all. Even her cutie mark looked colorful and fresh, exposed to the light of day for the first time in years where the armor over her flanks had obviously suffered the same fate as her molten boots. I should be dead. Why do I feel so good? “Would you like some tea?” asked Celestia from behind a rolling cart that had an undoubtedly priceless ceramic tea set spread out across the top, and the Princess of the Sun was delicately sipping from a Yixing dynasty teacup obviously filled by the same. “Or some coffee?” asked the Princess of the Moon. On her cart was a simple thermos with a steel-reinforced ceramic mug to one side. “Soda,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Hidrationing.” She nudged one of the two bottles dripping with condensation by her front hooves, although she did not use her magic to pick one up and offer it. Eyeing the two larger alicorns suspiciously, Tempest picked up the cold bottle of orange soda, twisted off the cap, and drank it down to the bottom in one long swig. “That hit the spot,” she announced with a belch. It was not until she was half-way through the second bottle of orange soda before she recognized the blue-white aura of magic that was holding it up. Soda sprayed everywhere. “My horn!” It certainly felt like her old horn, and the simple spells of her youth were almost trivial to cast. “Mirror!” she managed to gasp. “MIRROR!” Looking in the mirror that the svelte batpony brought over only lowered her sense of excitement slightly. A horn. Her horn. It was shorter and broader than she had expected, or more correctly ‘fantasized about during her time in the Storm King’s service.’ Magic flowed far easier through it than her shattered stump, and Tempest lit it up with lightning to relish the crackling flow. “Yes!” she cackled, letting the power build until she felt a sharp sting in her nose. “No,” said Twilight Sparkle, remaining in front of her with one hoof raised to rap her nose again, if needed. “Too much power. Hurt somepony. Hurt foals.” “What, there aren’t any—” started Tempest before she recalled just what the newspapers had been going so bonkers about. “Oh, that’s right. Spooky’s pregnant.” “With twins,” said Luna smugly. “I’m pregnant too,” said Celestia, three words that Tempest Shadow had never dreamed she would ever hear from that particular pony. At the doorway, the batpony mare scooted slightly closer to her husband. “What is going on?!”, said Tempest. “Am I the only mare in this room that isn’t pregnant? Um, except you,” she added to Twilight Sparkle. “Right?” “Yes.” The little alicorn took a quick breath. “Discord is free.” Tempest wanted to interrupt, but closed her mouth with a snap of her jaw and nodded instead. After all, if Discord was really free from his stone prison, it didn’t matter if the Windigo had returned, so she forced herself to wait for the end of the presentation. “He made three tasks for Trixie,” continued Twilight Sparkle in short, precise words. “Or me. Not sure. Starlight Glimmer can remove cutie marks. Makes ponies weak. That’s the first. Cadence has gone to the Crystal Empire. King Sombra is there. My friends will fight him. Beat him with friendship. Third is Misty Mountain… nest. That’s where we need you to take the Royal Guard. Do you know about it?” “Fifth largest griffon colony in the Equestrian mainland, although it’s about a quarter the size it once was,” said Tempest casually. “Intelligence says there’s some sort of griffon conclave going on there, but we can’t get close to spy on them, because the mountain has nasty up- and downdrafts. Griffon king there is a nasty piece of work, and his son isn’t much better.” Tempest licked her lips and considered several secret intelligence reports while slowly nodding her head, feeling the additional weight of her restored horn bobbing along. “I suppose it’s… possible they broke the Nightscape Covenant. If you’re going to stop them, you should get going. Goodbye and good luck. I’m headed back home.” She stood up and strode for the suite’s doors, expecting at any moment to be stopped. Pumpernickel did shift slightly to block the door, but looked past her and stepped back into his previous guarding position almost immediately. The heavy doors swung closed behind her as she strode down the corridor, feeling oddly naked without her armor, and slightly chilly, but she only made it about halfway to the next door before she slowed, turned around, and went back to Princess Cadence’s ornate door. All three alicorns remained just where she had left them, with the two largest sipping from their respective cups, and Twilight Sparkle giving her a slow nod when Tempest returned. “Just out of curiosity,” started Tempest from the doorway, “you do have a way of dealing with the Windigo, right?” “The Royal Guard won’t be able to defeat the Windigo without your help,” said Twilight Sparkle in that strange word-at-a-time delivery. “The world will freeze unless I kill them all.” The way the little filly just said the words without any sense of regret drove a chill down Tempest Shadow’s flank. She had ordered ponies and other creatures killed before, and tried her best not to let it affect her. This, however, was cold-blooded murder being planned by a child, and worse, she meant every word of it. “You can’t kill an entire aerie of griffons,” said Tempest even while considering just how the little filly was still apparently carrying all the magic of both Sun and Moon. “Can you?” Twilight nodded, ever so slowly. “If I have to. Just like killing the Changeling Queen and her nest. I’ll turn their mountain into an erupting volcano from the inside.” “That’s…” The words froze in Tempest’s throat, just as if they were tiny fragments of Windigo. It wasn’t a bluff. There had been rumors about the death of the Changeling Queen, and both Princess Cadence and Shining Armor had eluded any questions about the royal bug’s fate during her visit. At one point recently, Tempest Shadow had taken an airship across the site of the event and seen with her own eyes the broad shallow lake of glass, the piles of drying chitin along the shores, and the fire-hardened pillar of stone in the center where the changelings had affixed a plaque that simply read, ‘Mother.’ “Just to be certain I’m not misunderstanding,” said Tempest through her dry throat, “how do you know I can defeat the Windigo?” “Don’t,” said Twilight Sparkle in that peculiar word-at-a-time delivery, as if each word had to be treated with extreme care before it exploded. “Or I would have given the magic back. Need to hurry. I can… feel it,” she added as a chill breeze floated through the room. “By tonight, or they will be too strong for you.” “Oh,” said Tempest ever so quietly. “Windigo,” she added after thinking for a time. “What resources do I have available?” “Everything we have,” said Princess Luna. “Every soldier, every weapon. Whatever you want. If Twilight believes you can stop this threat to our world, we would be fools to hold any resources back.” “Right…” Tempest rubbed her chin with one hoof. “I’m going to need some things. First, I want your Royal Guard assembled right here so they can hear it from you, because they’ll never believe this. Stars above, I don’t believe it.” “We are familiar with the sensation,” said Luna. “What else?” “Second,” continued Tempest, “I’m going to need you ladies to step back to the doorway. Oh, and this trumpet,” she added, floating the musical instrument out of a nearby pile of debris. “A little dented, but should still work.” “Flugelhorn,” said Twilight, although she was already moving with the other alicorns to the doorway. “Why?” “Because some ponies won’t believe your princesses and their word on the matter without some drama.” Tempest Shadow wriggled the valves on Shining Armor’s flugelhorn and tried to conceal a knowing smile. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I heard the legend of the Windigo from a griffon mercenary. You may want to cover your ears, ladies. This is going to be loud.” * * * Commander Ironclad was not having a good day. Princess Cadence was missing, Prince Shining Armor was a nervous wreck and missing, and he had just been humiliated by a foal. Well, there was obviously something going on in the Frozen North, and it was his responsibility as the Guard Commander to prepare his troops for movement. It would take three days or more to organize the expedition, acquire the train car space, purchase supplies, arrange the guard schedules, all of the things for a proper expedition, and it was best that he start now. “Form G-27 Stroke B,” he murmured. “My old nemesis. Section one. Reason for deployment. Hm…” A blinding light illuminated his wardroom, followed by a noise so loud that for a moment it felt like something outside had simply slugged Ironclad through his open window. The roar of thunder echoed across the city, quite obviously coming from Princess Cadenza’s tower, or more correctly what little was left of her tower. The entire top of the dome had been blown cleanly away by the stream of lightning pouring into the air and up into a new thunderhead, which cut off just as suddenly as it began. Ironclad said a word that would normally have cost him two bits for the curse cup if anypony had heard. He scrambled for the window, sticking his head outside and taking a deep breath to call for the guard, only to stop with his mouth open as the strident call of a trumpet echoed across the deathly silent city. ♫ To Arms, To Arms! ♫ If lightning blowing the top off the Royal Niece's tower had not gotten Ironclad’s heart pumping, the familiar Equestrian trumpet call did. He launched himself out the window regardless of several Royal Guard regulations to the contrary, scattering loose feathers from where he had brushed against the windowsill, and bolted in the direction of the trumpet’s strident voice. * * * “That ought to do it,” said Tempest. She tossed the trumpet casually back into the wrecked room and turned to the half-open doors where three princesses were observing her actions from relative safety. “Come on out, Your Highnesses. Your guard should be along in a few moments, and I want you to—” For one absolutely terrifying moment, Tempest Shadow could see her own death. The small alicorn between Luna and Celestia was glowing with uncontrolled power, leaking out of her white eyes and crackling in a haze around her floating body. A tiny little fact about ‘Twilight Sparkle’ flitted around inside Tempest’s head, having something to do with a student melting a tower into slag at Celestia’s school in an epic accident during one of the examinations, and Tempest knew with absolute certainty that day was replaying inside Twilight’s tiny head. There were only two ways that she knew of to handle such a meltdown, three if running away like a chicken was counted, and there was no way Tempest was about to beat the little filly into unconsciousness, so that only left— “Twilight Sparkle!” she snapped, putting every single bit of her extensive experience commanding vicious and larger creatures into her voice. “Control yourself! Now! The Royal Guard will be here at any moment, and we have to put on the right appearance or the mission will be a failure!” Even the two princesses started, and although Twilight did not immediately calm down, her hooves gently clicked down on the stone flooring, raising curls of smoke where they touched. Tempest had just enough time to turn around when the first guard pegasus crested over the smoking rim of the room and peered in, probably expecting to see some sort of royal rumble instead of a single dark unicorn glaring back at him. “Unacceptable!” she bellowed. “Taking this long to respond to an obvious threat! I blew the roof off this tower minutes ago! Get down here and tell me your name, soldier!” “Um… Flash. Flash Sentry,” said the pegasus as he glided down to the rubble-strewn floor. “What’s going—” There was a blur, a loud thump, and Flash found himself upside-down on the floor with one warm hoof resting on the center of his chest and a penetrating voice resonating in his hollow skull at point-blank range. “Is that the way you respond to a threat, soldier!” “Get your hooves off my guard!” Commander Ironclad fairly dropped on Tempest, requiring her to shift positions to block his attack and forcing her away from the young guard. It was an admirable tactical attack, even if it left the older pegasus open for a chokehold. She twisted Ironclad around and pointed his nose at Their Highnesses, bellowing in one ear, “Princess Celestia, tell your commander who he is reporting to now!” Celestia smiled, and Tempest got the sudden feeling of having been played like a deck of cards. “Commander Ironclad,” sounded that melodious voice with such force behind it that Ironclad went rigid. “The Windigo have returned. Tempest Shadow will be leading Our—” and the capital letters just fell on the word like an anvil “—Royal Guard on a mission to stop the griffons of the Misty Mountain from completing their terrible transformation.” Celestia raised her voice to the dozens of other late-arriving pegasi who had begun to look over the fractured walls of the tower. “Commander Tempest Shadow will be in complete charge of the expedition. Complete charge, including whatever gross property damage she has to do in order to get your attention.” “We leave in an hour,” declared Tempest, giving Ironclad a shove to one side. “In one hour, I want every guard who still fits in armor, every retiree, every cadet, every freaking actor who plays a guard on stage, all of them in the air and headed to the Frozen North. Subcommander Ironclad will be my direct subordinate, and I’ll need the biggest, meanest, toughest, nastiest guard at my side for a task that I suspect will mean his most certain death. Any volunteers?” Every single hovering guard turned and looked behind Tempest, where the brawny batpony had just stepped forward through some of the rubble in the room. “This day just keeps getting better,” she mumbled under her breath before raising her voice to a bellow. “One hour! What are you all standing around for? Move it, move it!” There was a frenzied flutter of wings, and the wrecked room became much emptier. It left Tempest with two problems… well, two short-term problems, one short, and one larger. She decided to deal with the short one first. It was the most dangerous. “Twilight Sparkle,” she started, looking down at the little alicorn. She really did not have any more words. It had been years since she had made an apology for anything, other than groveling to the Storm King. Normally, she just beat others up. That was not an option here, even if Twilight was not luminescent from the power of three alicorns trapped inside. “U-understand,” managed Twilight. “Like Trixie. Only bigger. Can’t just argue. Can’t ask. Need to be Great and Powerful.” “Um… Yes,” said Tempest despite a sincere urge to deny the truth. Being compared to a blow-hard braggart was humiliating. She had spent her life doing the impossible, not just pretending. Windigo were going to be just another step up… No, Tempest was certain she was punching above her weight here. About a mountain’s worth. Still, if she did not punch, and punch hard, that innocent little filly was going to incinerate an entire mountain full of budding windigo. Every single griffon, from innocent egg to the cruel old king was going to die in lava, and Tempest was not about to let that happen. Particularly, since she had other plans for them.