//------------------------------// // Shattered Skies // Story: Wind and Stone // by Ruirik //------------------------------// Two ridges lay side by side. Between them, a valley, carved deep into the land by an ancient river. Both the ridges and river between had no names, though the river found its source in the mountains just east of Nimbus. It had been that river which provided the city much of its ground water along with seasonal catches of river trout.  “We camp here tonight,” Rain said, pulling off her helmet to wipe the sweat from her brow. “No fire. We don’t want to risk getting spotted by enemy scouts.” She turned to Haze and Thorn, giving them a nod. “I’ll take first watch.” “You sure?” Haze asked. Rain nodded. “Yeah. Get some rest, make sure the new kid knows what to do.” “Alright. Don’t go too far from camp, Rain.” “Yes dad, and here I was planning to fly right to Agenholt tonight.” “There are easier ways to find griffons to kill,” Thorn noted in her dry tone.  Rain chuckled, then waved the pair off with a wing, back to where Summer and Windshear were setting down supplies. The rest of the militia she brought, a little over two hundred of the best Nimbans she could. Not as many as she would have liked for a strike into enemy territory, but the speed at which events had forced her to move out had required a lighter, more agile force. She walked at a casual pace away from where her soldiers camped, continuing even when she could no longer hear the soft murmurs of soldier’s in conversation. Thoughts slowly began to filter into her mind. Haysar was planning to move out in a few days. If she could catch the griffon rear, if their scouting was still accurate, then there was a chance she could kill Magnus. Kill Magnus and the war was over. Rain doubted it would be that simple.  But what in her life had been simple? Straightforward, sure. Survive her Agoge with a broken dagger, her brother’s idea of a joke, her brief relationship with Haze, then Thorn… Well, Haze had been simple. Thorn, though, that mare had been complicated. She chuckled to herself, walking up a hill towards the wall of the ridge. Past that she spotted a cave from which the smell of smoke caught her nose.  Her curiosity piqued, Rain wandered down the hill, crossing the valley to where the cave was. Pursing her lips, she briefly looked inside of the cave. There she saw a few items, neatly organized around the firepit. There was a simple bowl, a water flask, a folded blanket, and the bones of what Rain guessed had been a rabbit and small river fish. “Guten abend, Frau Rain.” Instinct took hold. Rain whirled around with lightning speed drawing her zweihander in a single motion. She leveled it at the voice with narrowed eyes: her posture ready for a fight. It was no surprise that she saw the silhouette of a griffon. Rather, the surprise was that he was unarmored with his hands raised in surrender. With caution she stepped closer, the blade held aloft at an angle ready to come down on her foes neck. The face came into view. She paused, recognition spreading over her. “Schäfer.” A smile pulled at the hybrid’s beak, though he was cautious to keep his arms up. “Rührt Euch, Frau Rain. Es nicht böse meinen.” “Let’s pretend my Griffon is a bit rusty these days,” she growled, though her sword remained level. “And let’s also pretend I haven’t decided if I should kill you or not, yet.” He chuckled, said with a thick accent: “I said good evening, Lady Rain. I mean you no harm.” “You’ll pardon me if I find that difficult to believe.” “A fair point, I suppose. Might I lower my arms? I’m afraid I am starting to lose feeling in my talons.” Rain gave him a doubtful glare, but offered a slight nod to the griffon. “Slowly.” “Danke,” he said, the avian arms lowering to the rocky ground. “How are you alive?” He shrugged. “When my kind attacked Nyx they released me.” “I know that much,” Rain growled, taking half a step forward. She didn’t risk getting too close to the griffon. Even unarmed he could still be a deadly threat. “I also know Magnus doesn’t look kindly on those who surrender.” “No. No he does not.” The griffon shook his head slowly. “I escaped both your kind, and mine. I have nothing to fight for in this war. The Canii… my tribe… They are all dead.” Rain said nothing for a time, merely keeping her attention on Schäfer with her sword at the ready. “If you’re looking to join them I would happily oblige.” “As would Magnus. But no. I do not long for death’s cold embrace just yet, Lady Rain. I simply seek peace.” “So you came to a Nimban?” Rain’s tone was incredulous.  “The irony is...how do you say it? Not to be lost on me?” His wings rolled in a shrug. “Yes, I will never raise a sword again against your kind, nor mine. I came to you, however, with a proposition. A way you could end this war today.” Her curiosity perked, Rain let the tip of her blade lower half an inch towards the ground. It was all the indication Schäfer seemed to need to continue. “You have done well getting so far into our lines. Too well, some might say. Magnus himself is within your grasp. Though if I you were wise you’d keep well away from him.” “Tell me where he is, and I might let you fly away.” Schäfer arched an eyebrow, his tail flicking curiously. “They say Magnus is no ordinary Griffon, Lady Rain. They say he is stronger, faster, and far larger than any of us born in generations. Some even say he is a God.” “Everything can be killed,” Rain said. “And there have been large griffons before. All it means is he’s a bigger target I can stab.” Surprise claimed Schäfer’s face. “You honestly think you can best him?” “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think I could.” “Hmm.” He rubbed at the underside of his beak thoughtfully. Their eyes were locked, hers resolved, his questioning. After a moment he lowered his paw. “I have a condition as well, Lady Rain.” Her brow lifted a little higher. “And that is?” “When you find Magnus, if it is possible, you kill him.” Schäfer said, a grim resolve in his words.  Rain chuckled softly. “That is the plan.” “Heh, you Nimbans always were a bold lot. Follow me then,” he said, rising to a tense stand. “I will show you the way.” “Stay in front of me, and don’t make any sudden moves. Otherwise I’ll have your head.” she warned him firmly. “Understandable.” With her ‘guide’ walking a few paces ahead of her, Rain sheathed her sword and followed. No doubt her family was spinning in their graves at the mere prospect of not killing the hybrid, but Rain didn’t much care what the dead thought. If an advantage could be gained, she would take it. Besides, her wingblades were all she needed to handle an unarmored and unarmed hybrid.  “Oh, that colt, the one who took a spear,” Schäfer looked over at Rain with an expression she never thought a griffon capable of: sorrow. “Did he succumb to those wounds?” Rain thought of Pathfinder, the terrible look in his eyes when she’d left him. It made her heart ache to think of. To her surprise she even...missed him. For a moment Rain wondered if he was still practicing his reading. There were still a lot of words he had trouble with. Discentus might teach him more, but then what would they do if Rain got back?  Realizing her mind was wandering, she shook her head. “No. He’s alive.” Schäfer let out a sigh. “Es beruhigt mich, das zu hören.” Curiosity nibbled at her. After a while of walking, Rain simply couldn’t contain it anymore. “Why?” “Why what?” “You know what,” she growled a little.  They walked several paces before he gave an answer. “What happened to that colt was...Unforgivable. I thought of my son. How I’d react if Cirrans did that to him.” Rain couldn’t help but think of the irony. “Then why didn’t you stop it?” “I did not know. Not until it was too late. I promise you, Frau Rain, I did give him justice.” “There’s no justice for what happened to him,” she growled with an agitated flap of her wings.  “The three who did it I had castrated, executed, and impaled,” Schafer said with the casual nature of someone commenting on the prior day’s weather. “You did see the bodies when you attacked, yes?” It took a moment for Rain to recall, but with a bit of mental focus, she did remember seeing the displayed corpses. In the heat of the battle she hadn’t given it much thought. Less thought had been given after with the workload of her fighting with Commander Moon, Summer, Finder, and scraping for any supplies she could get her hooves on.  “I personally washed him. You can ask the stallion Cloudburst if you do not believe my words. I unlocked him and the boy in hopes he would escape and get the colt home.”  Surprise must have been clear from Rain’s silence, and the griffon chuckled to it. “I had thought killing him would have been more merciful. But…” he paused, his ears splaying out a little. “I could not bring myself to do it.” “Hmm… You surprise me griffon...Schäfer.” The sound of his name from her lips made his ears perk. He twisted his neck to look at her with a surprised, but… pleasant smile. “Why should it be so surprising that we need not be enemies?” Rain opened her mouth to answer, then found herself wordless. She snapped her jaw shut and considered the question. Of course griffons would always be her enemy. They were the enemies of her blood. For as long as Nimbus had memory they had fought bitterly with the hybrids.  “Experience has taught me otherwise,” she answered, though some of the venom had left her voice. “I suppose it has,” he said, letting his gaze drift up for a bit. “For all of us.” “Why do you want Magnus dead?” “Penance.” His ears lowered and he growled lowly. Rain chuckled. “Well, we can agree on that.” They walked for the better part of two hours before Schäfer lowered himself to a crawl. Rain mirrored his posture, scooting herself along on her belly until they crested a hill. Down in a grassy valley split in two by the river she observed a small griffon camp. She could see dozens of bonfires with several hundred griffons scattered about. Most were males, but some were females doting over food and preening the soldiers. She didn’t see Magnus, though did observe a large tent in the center of the formation. “Magnus will be in there,” Schäfer whispered, pointing a talon at the tent. “He is likely in war consul now. You would be wise to wait for morning to attack. He always flies at the back of his army.” “Coward,” Rain spat.  Schäfer shook his head. “He thinks himself immortal, remember? Calls himself the God of all Griffons.” he sneered in disgust. “He keeps himself hidden from view, even from most Griffons.” The idea struck Rain as peculiar. “Why? If he’s all you say he’s supposed to be, then why hide?” Schäfer’s wings rolled in a shrug. “Perhaps because he only wants us to think he’s immortal, or wants us to think he’s twice the size of any griffon. I cannot say. All I know is what most griffon’s know. And that is what we are told.” Rain chuckled. “A God that needs to hide is no God at all. Just a loudmouth with an ego problem.” “Wait for most of his formation to take wing. After that you will have his personal Oathsworn and of course him.” “Why are there so many hens?” Rain asked. “I’ve never seen griffon’s bring them to the field.” Ears twitched and folded. Rain noticed Schäfer’s tail twitch uncomfortably. “Oathsworn are granted certain… perks.” At this Rain chuckled, though she was careful to keep her voice down. “A little fucking with your fighting?” “A crass description, but not inaccurate.” The pair observed the camp a while longer, then slowly crawled their way back down the hill. Once they’d reached a safe distance, one where Schäfer assured her they wouldn’t be spotted if they flew, they took wing and made their way back to camp. Rain and Schafer landed a safe distance from the Nimban force, far enough that Rain didn’t worry about getting spotted. Schafer turned to her and waited. Rain slowly drew her sword. “And so… you decide,” he said, the resignation plain in his voice. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He closed his eyes, and Rain thrust her sword. Schafer jumped, the blade buried itself into the soft earth. For a moment he dare not open his eyes or even twitch. Rain managed not to smile at the humorous sight. When he did, though, Rain offered the griffon a singular honor, and saluted him with her wing. “Schäfer of the Canii… I thank you.” He stood up straighter, returned her salute with one of his own. “Iron Rain, Legate of Nimbus. I am honored to have met you.” Cautiously he held out one of his taloned hands to her. Rain looked at it for a long moment with a raised eyebrow and a puzzled frown. He stayed still, palm open and talons splayed. Slowly Rain lifted her hoof, hovering the armored limb just over his paw. Schafer waited, not rushing, pushing, or making so much as a breath. Finally she lowered her hoof until it touched his palm.  Both pegasus and griffon let out a breath neither realized they were holding. His talons were gentle when they wrapped around her fetlock, and clasped it in a careful shake. Their eyes met, and Rain gave him a nod. After a moment he released her hoof, both lowering their limbs to the grass. “May the Gods be with you, Legate Rain.” “And also with you, Schäfer of the Canii.” He turned to leave, pausing one last time to look back at her. “Please relay my sincerest apologies to the colt. Perhaps… perhaps in another life, we needn't be adversaries.” Rain nodded. “Until then.” He smiled a little, spread his wings, and disappeared into the night’s sky, flying south where the war wouldn’t follow him. Rain watched him until he was long gone, lifted her hoof that he’d shaken, and inspected it. Surely Father, brother, and all her ancestors were rolling in their graves. But for Rain, her conscience felt clean.  She drew in a deep breath, savoring the cool air as it filled her lungs. The wind caressed her cheek, brushing her mane aside just so. It reminded her of her mother, a distant memory who had passed when Iron was still young.  “Mom… Dad… Steel,” she whispered to the evening air, speckled with clouds. “I swear I’ll avenge you all.” It was well into the night before Rain made her way back to camp. Among her small band of soldiers, most of whom were sleeping soundly with their swords at their sides, she found Haze and Thorn. The pair were nestled together for warmth, with Haze’s larger wing covering Thorn’s back. Their ears twitched at her approaching steps, and they quickly pulled away from each other to stand and face her. “Need a break?” Haze asked. “You two take watch,” Rain said, setting the heavy sword on the ground. “Tomorrow we avenge Nimbus.” The morning sun warmed Rain’s wings from where she and her Storm hid on top of a cloud. They were high above the griffon camp Schäfer had led her to, watching patiently as griffons finished their morning meals and trickled away in pairs. It was with no small amount of effort that she waited for the opportune moment. “Why don’t we strike?” Thorn whispered, laying next to her on the cloud. “When the moment is right, Thorn,” Rain answered, though her wings were twitching in anticipation. Summer growled. “Look at these arrogant fuckers. They haven’t even bothered putting out scouts or picketts. They should have discovered us hours ago, to say nothing of all the ponies we have hiding behind the hill.” “They think Cirra’s beaten,” Windshear said, adjusting his grip on his spear. “And why shouldn’t they? Gold Moon’s had the legions in full retreat for months now. There’s no reason for them to suspect we’re this far back.” “Everypony understands their mission, right Haze?” Rain asked her oldest friend. He nodded. “Wait for the Storm to fall, surround the hybrid camp, kill any that try to escape.” “That’s a big ass tent, Legate Rain,” Windshear chimed in, his blue frame quivering at the looming battle. “There could be dozens more Oathsworn in there guarding Magnus. How do we know that we won’t outnumber ourselves by charging in without backup?” “If Magnus reacts like I think he will, then it won’t be a factor. If he’s a coward, then we lure them back over the hill where the reserve Militia will ambush them.” “This plan sucks,” Windshear bemoaned. “Relax, Kid,” Haze said with a grin. “If we’re gonna die, we’re gonna take Magnus with us. Either way, this war ends today.” “Hardly,” Thorn grumbled. “Even if the horde scatters when Magnus dies, we still have to fight our way to Agenholt and burn the city to the ground.” “One thing at a time,” Rain said, watching the camp below them eagerly. It was hard to make out details, however Rain could see that all of the hens and most of the oathsworn had already flown away by the time she’d led her Nimban’s to the camp. A few chests were set out behind the tent, doubtless to pack away whatever the griffon emperor kept inside his dwelling. If it was anything like Cirran field tents, then Rain suspected it was fairly simple to fold and transport, if exorbitantly large. Two more griffons emerged from the tent and flew away. Rain watched them fly east, towards the mountains and away from the front. It was almost funny, she thought, how even a few months ago she would have leapt on the griffons before dawn, numbers or not, and massacred them all. The misson today, though, was much more important. And if Schäfer was right, that Magnus was so arrogant as to stay far from the bulk of his army at any given time, then it would make killing him all the easier, with the benefit of minimal risk to her soldiers. There were simply too few Nimbans left. Rain couldn’t, no, wouldn’t throw away their lives so casually. Far better she fell to defend them, than risk everything her people had stood for being slaughtered. If the line of Rain was to end, then best it ended ensuring the spirit of Nimbus survived. “Now!” She called, throwing herself down from the cloud with wings tucked tight to her sides. Summer, Haze, Thorn, and Windshear leapt after her, two on either side. They landed in perfect sync, startling the two Oathsworn that had been milling about near one of the firepits. Before they could so much as squawk, they were dead. Windshear’s spear in one’s neck, Thorn’s dagger in his partner’s eye. “Magnus!” Rain shouted at the tent, drawing her sword as thirteen armored Oathsworn rushed out of the tent, swords, spears, maces, and clubs at the ready. Rain held her ground, stabbed her sword into the dirt and screamed again at the tent. “MAGNUS! SHOW YOURSELF!” “Who dares summon the God-Emperor of Agenholt?” a booming voice called out from the tent. “I am Iron Rain, Legate of Nimbus,” she answered. The Oathsworn exchanged glances and lowered their weapons, at least slightly. “Iron Rain, you say?” the voice asked in an amused tone. “Might I assume you are related to Winter Rain?” Before she could answer, the canvas door of the tent flew open, as though from a magical wind. She drew her sword from the ground and readied it in her teeth. What emerged from the tent, though, made her eyes grow wide in shock. Two more Oathsworn, glad head to tail in armor emerged first. Following them came a griffon, larger than any she’d ever seen. She didn’t need him to identify himself. Rain knew that this monster was Magnus. “Oh...fuck,” Windshear gasped. “Well, I guess the name wasn’t overcompensating...” Summer said. Schafer had been wrong to say he was twice the size of the average griffon. Standing confidently on all fours, clad in jewel encrusted armor plated with solid gold, he was nearly the size of three. He blinked his eyes once to adjust to the light, then focused his attention on Rain. Instantly his expression shifted from an almost bored look to one of uncontained glee. “Well met, little Rain!” His voice boomed, though he wasn’t shouting. “Yes, yes I can see it! You are Winter’s daughter! You look just like him.” “You’re not worthy to utter his name,” Rain growled, finding her courage in spite of the monster’s size. She focused on watching his movements. Did he favor a limb? Was there a tick before he moved? Any detail she could observe might save her life in battle. “Tsk tsk, little Rain,” Magnus waved a paw dismissively at her. “I see it all so clearly. That haughty stance, the arrogant tone. You are a fine example of your breed, daughter of Winter. However, do you know what’s interesting about Winter?” Rain said nothing which only seemed to make the massive griffon grin wider. “Everything dies.” “And is reborn in spring,” Rain countered.  “Haha! I killed Spring Rain four hundred years ago. Or was it Three?”  Magnus laughed, waved a talon dismissively. “Most of you blend together after a century or two.” He turned his back to her and disappeared into his tent. “He...he didn’t just leave, did he?” Haze asked, stunned by the casual nature that the outnumbered hybrids. A clatter started inside the tent, like someone rooting through piles of treasure. Rain glanced back at her storm for a moment, then looked at the tent again. “Oi, you, Oathsworn!” Haze yelled out at the armored hybrids. “You understand Cirran? Are we supposed to fight now? I mean, I’m always up for a good fight, but are we supposed to wait, or are we doing this?” Magnus' Oathsworn looked at each other,not even bothering to keep their weapons at the ready, then merely shrugged. Some of them even moved away from the tent, leaving a clear path inside for anypony that so desired. Though the cacophony of noise from inside sounded like a tornado was going through the tent. “Well I sure as shit ain’t going in there,” Summer said. “Will you idiots focus?” Rain snapped at her Storm, though her eyes never left the tent.  A few moments later he emerged again, and Rain’s heart stopped in her chest. In his claws was her father’s shield, still painted in the traditional Nimban blue, though chips had been flecked off from battle. “Nimbus,” Rain whispered the shield’s name. “He would have wanted you to have this,” Magnus said, his talons caressing the surface of the shield like a treasured gift. It made Rain’s stomach turn. “I gave him a good burial, in case you were wondering. Your father was worthy of that respect. Perhaps when I break you, I will take you to his tomb. Your corpse can join his in the cold ground.”   “I’m not the one who dies today, hybrid,” she hissed, grasping the zwiehander by the leather bound forward grip, just behind the parrying hooks.  “Temper, temper, little Rain,” Magnus cooed, seemingly giddy. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll offer you the same deal I offered your father. Duel me. Should you draw even a drop of my blood I will end this war here and now. My Oathsworn shall not move a feather to intervene so long as your Rainstorm also stays back.” Magnus paused, looking past Rain at Haze, Thorn, Summer, and Windshear. “Hmm, though perhaps you might need them. This is simply the sorriest Storm I’ve seen in ages. Perhaps a handicap is in order.” Magnus pulled off his golden armor, tossing it behind him to a waiting Oathsworn. “Your oathsworn won’t interfere?” Rain asked, doubtful of what her ears heard. Magnus drew a dagger from under his wing, the gleaming steel blade long enough to be a standard Cirran Gladius. Magnus traced a claw over the edge of the blade slowly. He looked at the weapon fondly, then looked up at Rain. A smile tugged at the corners of his beak. In one quick motion, Magnus stabbed the Oathsworn nearest to him through the neck. The large griffon gagged, went stiff, though the only sound he made was a wet gurgle. Blood gushed from his beak and the gaping wound in his neck. His heavy armor clattered when he fell, and not a single one of his comrades so much as moved while their brother flailed in his death throes. “Do you accept my terms?” he asked, wiping the blood from the blade. “Fuck that,” Summer yelled from behind Rain. “I’ll accept the challenge!” Tilting his head, Magnus seemed curious. “And you are...?” “Summer Celsus.” “Hmm. A pony with no name. Perhaps I should fetch a fledgling for you instead.” Summer’s temper flared. “You son of a–” Rain stuck her wing out and shot Summer a quick glare. “This is my fight!” She growled, returning her attention to Magnus. “I accept.” Magnus seemed thrilled by her answer. He waved a wing at his Oathsworn, all of whom moved back a safe distance. Likewise Rain motioned her Storm back, then stepped forward. “Excellent! Now then,” Magnus started, excitement making his voice get higher in pitch. “First, first we must bow,” he said, bowing to Iron. When she didn’t reciprocated he grew angry. “Bow!” he shouted, and a blast of wind hit her back, knocking her down for a moment. “Come now, Lady Rain, the formalities must be observed!” She got to her hooves again quickly, but the shock must have been plain on her face. Magnus was quick to call her on it. “Why the puzzlement, little Rain? Have you never faced a god before?” “You’re no god. Just some freak.” “Freak?” Magnus bellowed, the winds swirling around him. “Tell me, young Rain. You have so little respect for me as an opponent. What injury have I personally caused to earn your spite? What do you accuse me of that I cannot likewise say of your ancestors? If anything you should be thanking me!” “Thanking you for what?” Rain demanded, anger in her voice. “Burning my city? Torturing prisoners? Raping children?” “Ahh, so there it is,” Magnus chuckled, motioning for one oathsworn to step closer. The figure wore full armor, head to toe, with only his blue-gray tail visible. “Might I ask where you buried your indignance when your kind massacred the females, old, and young at Hengsted? Or the countless griffons Nimbus hunted for your agoge? Not that I minded that, of course. A warrior so pitiful as to be felled by a Nimban whelp was done a favor. You speak of torture: where is your spite for the pegasi who keep griffon slaves, tearing out their claws and filing their beaks? You speak to me of rape…” His talons came down on the Oathsworn’s helm, yanking it off the warrior with force. Underneath, Rain didn’t see the feathered features of a griffon. Rather it was a steel eyed hippogryph. “Behold the Sin of Nimbus.” Rain stared at the hippogryph in shock. It made no sense. The creature shouldn’t even have been alive, much less standing alongside Magnus. Interbreeding between pegasi and griffons was sacrilege on both sides. “Say hello to Jaeger,” Magnus said, petting the hippogrpyh. “Jaeger, Say hello to Lady Rain.” Jaeger bowed his head, though his eyes remained locked with her own. When he spoke his words were thickly accented, so much so that Rain wondered if he spoke Cirran, or if he was simply making the noises Magnus wanted him to. “Hello… Lady Rain.” Rain scarcely contained the snarl that was making her lip twitch.  Magnus placed the hippogryph’s helm back on the Oathsworn’s head then motioned him away.    He held out his right taloned hand, and without so much as a sound two Oathsworn went into the tent, returning a moment later with Magnus’ sword. The sword was huge, near twice the length of Rain’s sword, with a gilded hilt and guard which sparkled with precious stones just as ornately as the griffon’s armor. He threw out his opposite arm, and another Oathsworn attached Nimbus to his wrist, though on a hybrid his size her father’s shield looked more like a buckler. “How dare you,” Rain seethed through gritted teeth.  “I dare, little Rain,” Magnus almost chirped with glee. “Are not spoils given to the victors?” “You’ve won nothing!” “Winter is dead, yet I live. Shall I tell you how he died, little Rain?” Magnus asked, though. “I know how my father died,” Rain said, holding her rage tight in her chest. “He died saving our people.” The griffon chuckled. “He died a weak, helpless old stallion, not even able to raise a sword to me.” Magnus raised his sword, pointing the tip to Rain. “Please, little Rain, do not disappoint me so.” Rain’s anger snapped and her left wing ripped her bucknife, Mary, from it’s sheath on her foreleg. The blade rocketed tip-first, straight for Magnus. The griffon didn’t even flinch, though. Rain’s eyes grew wide when her knife slowed to a stop in mid air, the tip less than an inch from Magnus’ forehead. ‘Finder...you were telling the truth…’ she realized with a cold dread in her stomach. Magnus lowered his sword just a bit, her knife slowly rotating in front of him, like a leaf circling around a whirlpool in a pond. “Temper, temper, little Rain,” he cooed to her, the knife stopping when the blade was aiming straight for her. “It’s a good knife,” he smiled, nodded to her. “Please, allow me to return it!”  Mary launched through the air, flying for Rain’s neck at a blinding speed. Instinct took hold, Rain dropped to the ground letting the knife fly over her head. She briefly registered the clash of steel behind her indicating one of her storm had deflected the blade.  The duel commenced, Rain grabbing Zwei and charging at Magnus. He stood there waiting until the last moment, then attacked with a wide-arcing slash. Reflex made Rain block, but the sheer weight of his blade nearly broke her neck.  The blow sent her careening, tumbling end over end through the grass. She barely was able to get back to her hooves when Magnus counter attacked.  He leapt into the air, powerful winds propelling him with hardly a motion of his wings. Rain rolled out of the way just as he brought his sword down, though she was certain her tail was an inch shorter now. Wind blasted from behind her, seemingly generated from his sword striking the ground.  Rain flapped her wings to get some distance, spun around to get Magnus in her sights, and readied herself. Magnus didn’t give her time to think, charging her with a powerful thrust of his sword. It was all she could do to parry the strike which scraped past her blade in a shower of sparks. Her blade smashed into the handguard of his sword, caught on the gilded metal, locking it in place. While Rain struggled to free it, Magnus smiled and punched her square in the chest, nearly breaking her ribs and sending her flying. A wet cough escaped Rain’s mouth, but she recovered quickly. She threw open her wings catching the air to put a brake on her uncontrolled spin.  Magnus held his front legs apart, balancing on his haunches with a wild grin. “That cannot be your best, Little Rain. I heard such good things about your father. Truly, I would have given an arm to duel him in his prime!” With the wind at her wings, Rain propelled herself towards Magnus. She brought the sword down towards Magnus’ head, a blow he sidestepped with ease. That magical wind swirled and gusted forth again, slamming into Rain’s side and sending her tumbling back towards her Storm. Years of training and experience made her throw her weight into the roll, getting back to her hooves with her weapon at the ready.  Smiling, Magnus waited for her. His wings were open, his posture relaxed, he didn’t even bother putting up the pretense of a guard. His open stance made Rain pause. ‘What’s he planning?’ Rain took a breath and began to pace around the griffon emperor. He matched her pace, though his sword rested casually over his shoulder as though he were on a country stroll rather than a duel of life and death. Rain’s eyes narrowed, studying his every motion. “Yes, yes, very good, little Rain,” he praised her then chuckled. “You do not rush in with emotion as your weapon. When Spring Rain dueled me all those centuries ago she was all fire and passion.” He shook his head, laughing a fond laugh. “She died smiling on this very sword. Or was that Sleeting Rain? I swear I can’t tell you ponies apart half the time.” She knew what he was trying to do, but Rain refused to allow him to bait her. Her eyes kept on Magnus, she willed herself to ignore his flapping beak. The words didn’t matter. She focused on the way he shifted his weight with each step, the twitch in his wings, every detail committed to memory. Rain didn’t have time to wait. A low roar built as the wind rose at her back and pulled her off her hooves. Her body flew at Magnus, who grinned and leveled his sword at her chest. She threw her weight forwards, managing to roll just under Magnus. She slid out behind him twisting to bring her sword about. Wind from his wings buffeted her down again, and Magnus twisted in the air, landing at a safer distance with a laugh. “That’s the way!” Magnus laughed, aiming his sword at her again. This time the wind started to whirl around the blade, forming a cyclone. Rain’s eyes shot open, Magnus grinned again. “Verschwinden.” The whirlwind pushed out from the sword towards her. Rain leapt to the side to avoid it, but the wind was faster. Her back half was caught in the gale which sent her flying end over end. She bit down harder on the hilt of her sword, wrapping a hoof around the forward grip as well so she didn’t lose it. She hit the ground with a thud. Rain didn’t get to catch her breath before another blast sent her over the field.  Rain’s head spun. She heard her friends shouting to her, could feel Magnus’ plodding approach. It felt like a predator stalking close to his prey, toying with it before delivering the finishing blow. Then Rain saw something glinting in the grass, just near her. She blinked once, focused on the object. Mary, her favorite knife was right there, waiting.  “Any last words, little Rain?” the griffon Emperor asked from behind her. Rain plucked her knife from the ground, twisting the heavy blade through her feathers, then launched it towards Magnus. The griffon Emperor flared his wings, the winds whipped and whirled around him even more violently than before. Mary stopped in midair, mere inches from his throat. He twisted the knife with the will of the winds alone, launching it back at her. This time, though, Rain was ready for it.   She spat Zweihufer from her mouth and caught it in her forelegs, charging towards the blade and winding the sword up behind her shoulders. Her wings propelled her forward and she swung out with the flat of the sword. Steel sang out its sharp cry when the knife hit the sword and was batted back at Magnus. The griffon’s eyes grew wide and he raised himself up on his hind legs. His right paw thrust out as he forced the knife to stop again.   But with his focus on Mary, the whirling winds protecting him broke. Rain threw herself at him with all her strength, grasping the leather strap between Zwei’s guard and parrying spikes. Magnus swung his blade across his body, aiming to claim her head, but Rain was faster. She dove low, flapped her wings hard, and spun around in a blur of clockwise motion.   Magnus’ blade swished harmlessly over her head, while her sword buried itself in his exposed gut. She heard the cheer of her Storm, the stunned silence of the Oathsworn, and savored the wet gurgle of pain the so-called ‘God’ gave when she twisted her sword.   He stumbled back, the sword pulling free from his body with a wet slurp, and balanced on two legs with a taloned palm pressed to the wound. Blood poured from between his fingers, staining his dark fur crimson. Rain redoubled her attack, overwhelming Magnus with blow after blow. The tip of his sword thrust forward. Rain leapt above it, using her wings to gain height over the blade. Throwing all her weight into a spin, she brought her sword down on Magnus’ arm. The griffon emperor howled with pain.  His left arm fell useless to the grass, her father’s shield falling free of the usurper limb. Magnus fell back onto his haunches, dropping his sword and clutching at the gushing stump where his avian talon had been. Rain dropped Zwei and leapt for Nimbus. She rolled into the heavy shield, pushing her hoof into the grip on the back, then threw herself at Magnus. The Emperor, distracted, barely had time to realize what was happening.  Rain felt his blood splash across her face when she buried Nimbus’ spike into his chest.  His remaining paw swung with blinding speed, backhanding Rain’s head. She briefly saw stars and lost her grip on Nimbus.She stumbled back and soon retook her fighting stance, even if her only weapon left was her wingblades.  “Any last words, Magnus?” She asked, breathless and flushed with adrenaline. Initially, the bleeding griffon glared at her. Rain wondered if he’d lost too much blood and would die without issuing a final taunt. Part of her hoped he begged for his life before the end. She wanted so badly to hear the monster plead.  Magnus stunned her when he smiled.   “Well done, Little Rain,” he said, laughing. It started as a chuckle, then built to a gale of laughter. The winds around him starting to swirl again, faster and faster until Rain had to brace herself. Magnus slapped his palm against his thigh, and it was then Rain realized the sword wound in his gut was no longer bleeding, and the hole in his chest from Nimbus was slowly disappearing. “Well done! Well done! Well done!”   “What the Hell?!” “Of all the Rains I have fought over the centuries, none have done so well! My arm will take a month to regrow.” Magnus stood tall on his hind legs, wiped the bloodied corners of his mouth on his foreleg. He turned and motioned to an Oathsworn, said “hol mir einen Verband” A moment later an Oathsworn had wrapped a heavy cloth around the stump where Magnus’ left claw had been.  Rain simply stared at him, watching as the hole in his chest fully sealed over. Feathers started to regrow as well, though blood continued to seep through the cloth on his stump. “Why aren’t you dead…?” Rain whispered. “I told you,” Magnus said, walking over to Rain, who couldn’t even bring herself to lift her wingblades.  “Rain!” she heard Haze shout. Her Storm charged, Thorn and Windshear leaping up to strike at Magnus from above, Haze rushing in directly using his unnatural speed to gain an advantage. The wind roared and bellowed sending the pegasi tumbling to the ground like hapless foals.  “And so now you see, Little Rain.” He spoke with a tone that was almost gentle as he put his paw to her cheek, rubbing his blood into her pale fur. “You cannot kill me.” Rain felt her heart breaking, and despite all her will, she couldn’t stop tears from welling in her eyes. ‘Father...forgive me.’ Magnus certainly saw them, and his false pity only made her pain worse. “I, Ottgam Magnus, God of the Winds, Emperor of Griffons, declare you, Iron, to be the greatest of your line.” A rumble started to build in the earth. At first Rain thought it was her legs trembling, then it built and built until even Magnus seemed briefly concerned. He looked around a moment, then seemed to stare into the distance. A grin came to his face again, and he looked down at Rain. Rain didn’t ask what he seemed so happy about, the rumble grew even heavier. It knocked her onto her backside, forced her hidden Nimbans to take to the skies from where they were lined up around the camp. The Oathsworn too took wing, reading their weapons when they spotted her reinforcements. Magnus noticed them too, however he seemed unconcerned. “Wise of you, Lady Rain,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’m afraid you are too late.”   Before Rain could process what was happening, Magnus was on top of her, a massive paw pinning her down on the ground. He held up his bloody palm, and dried it on her face, smearing her pale fur with a streak of red.   “Bear this mark as your prize, and wear it with pride,” Magnus said again, a terrible smile on his face. One claw dug into her forehead, just over her left eyebrow. He pulled the talon down, slicing through her eye, carving his way down her cheek. Rain screamed, her hooves flying to her face while the Emperor pulled his paw back, heedless of the fresh cuts her flailing wingblades put into his sides. "You bastard!" Summer shouted as Magnus stepped away, his talon glittering with fresh blood and ichor.   Rather than a grand gesture or a spoken word, he merely glanced Summer's direction and the winds hurled her back.  After rolling a few strides, Summer stumbled to her feet. "She won, you monster!" "I know.  This is my gift to her." "A gift?" "Wherever she goes, for the rest of her life, this will define her.  The first question on every tongue. 'What happened to your eye, Lady Rain?'  And she can tell them, with my blessing, that she dueled a god in single combat and bested him!" “What have you done?” Rain managed to hiss, her blood pouring down her cheek and over her lips.  Magnus laughed aloud, releasing her from his grasp and licking her blood from his claw. “How little you understand. Do not grieve too badly for Haysar. It was his foolishness that led to this outcome.” Rain struggled to her hooves with Summer’s help, took up her sword again, ready to fight the monster before her, but Magnus only pointed a claw to the north. “Behold.” Rain didn’t turn her head. She paced around him, working herself into a position where she could see what he was pointing at while keeping him in her line of sight. The dark column of smoke in the distance was something she would never forget. Magnus only grinned wider, sharp teeth flashing between his upper and lower beak. “And now you see.” “What devilry is this?” Rain whispered around her sword. He laughed again, the winds swirling around him. “Why don’t you go find out, hmm? The dead won’t bury themselves.” “What?” “Fear not, Empress Rain,” Magnus bowed to her briefly, though his eyes never left her own. “I shall not interfere. You have proven yourself a foe worthy of honor in the songs of my people. Go now, bury your dead, prepare your defenses. I shall come for you again soon, and when I do, I shall have a new arm, and you shall know the meaning of despair.” “Rain, what do we do?” Haze shouted, sword in his teeth. “Retreat,” Rain whispered. “What?” “Retreat,” she shouted, wiping her hoof over her bleeding cheek and taking to the air. “We can’t win this fight.” “Rain…” Summer pleaded with her. “Enough!” she barked sheathing her sword and knife. “We have to get to Feathertop!” Rain never forgot the horrible laugh Magnus let out as she led her Nimbans towards the tower of smoke in the distance.