An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

176 - The Long Way Round

Extended Holiday
Chapter 176: The Long Way Round

Hammer Strike sighed to himself. He was currently on his throne, having just finished several meetings. He had another few hours to remain before he could set off on his own, having scheduled a number of meetings within the day primarily to get them over with. He had half an hour between each to give himself a minor break between.

Clover entered the room looking tired and with at least one patch of singed fur. She moved to him quickly with a stoney gaze. “You weren’t kidding about you being different in the past, or future, or, whatever. You looked very different.” Clover sighed as she stopped before the throne.

“Which era did you meet me?” Hammer Strike questioned.

“During the period just before the Third Gryphon War.”

Hammer Strike hummed for a second. “I believe I was … less scarred, definitely shorter, no glowing eyes, of course.” He paused for a moment. “Did I have the tip of my ear still?”

“Yes, you did. It was strange.”

“Well, I’d believe it. Despite me acting as though I knew you, I have a feeling that was the first time I actually met you.”

“Most likely.” She nodded. “It’s weird how different everything was at that time.”

“Well, given an era of certain ‘disaster’ occurs between now and then,” Hammer Strike sighed, “that’s to be expected. Honestly, I haven’t thought back on that in a while. That war changed me.”

“Don’t all wars change you?” she asked.

“Not to the extreme that one did.” He shook his head. “That was technically the first war I fought in. I had been in battles before then, but that was the first experience of war I had taken part in. I was even betrayed by a noble of Equestria and tortured for nearly a month for any information I had.”

“What happened to the noble?”

“Tried and executed by myself, his name wiped from history to an almost perfect degree, but it was spoken about for many years after.”

“As fitting for those who’d make themselves your enemy.”

He gave a soft smile. “Indeed. There was only one thing I took from all of that which was a positive.”

“So, what do you think you’ll do when you return?”

“Probably gather all my assets once more. Reveal myself to you, ask for you to stop hiding things from my past self. Standard stuff.”

“No big ‘return of the king’ for you, huh?” She laughed.

“You kidding? I’ll have a brief vacation first. I’ll need to prepare.”

“I can respect that.” She chuckled. “I suppose you’ll need to go to the tree again.”

“That’s … going to be an interesting part. I’ll also need to ‘find’ everyone.”

“Any idea where you’ll start?”

“Probably the … locating everyone part, followed by checking on Harmony’s condition.”

“You miss the future?”

Hammer Strike frowned. “I’ve spent more time here than I have been in the future. I … don’t know anymore.”

“You may have to decide someday,” she pointed out.

“I know.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I know.”

The dining hall was a grand wide open space full of magical torches embedded in rings along the walls that were interspersed between large stained glass windows and suits of armor. The feasting table was several yards long, built both tall and broad to not only support the sheer weight of food in the case of banquets, but also to provide a proper surface for any dignitaries from the other nations that might be visiting.

As for the weight of food, it seemed that whether there were visitors or not, Luna always ate enough to require a feast. The mare chewed her food with a nigh-reckless abandon. Celestia was more sedate and dignified as she cut her food and levitated it into her mouth. Yharon, likewise, ate in a similar manner. A set of books lay curled within his tail as he looked over his family. As usual, Hammer Strike sat at the head of the table and partook of both meat and vegetables in equal measure. Clover’s chair was set up next to her mate, giving her the same opportunity to watch the rest of their children and to remain close to the colt who had started out as a teacher and finished as her husband. Servants would check in on a regular basis to ensure that food and drink were properly stocked and prepared for the royals to partake.

In other words, it was a typical family meal, a rarity for the royal family, given the sheer number of incidents they always seemed to have to deal with in Unity.

“Though I miss cooking, I have to admit,” Hammer Strike nodded to himself. “You all did pick some good chefs.”

“That was Celestia,” Clover noted.

The mare blushed. “I … had some experience managing these sorts of things on my travels.”

“Still, well chosen.” Hammer Strike chuckled softly.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Shall we have a toast?” Yharon suggested. “To us. Not only this family, but to the kingdom as a whole. May the gods continue to smile on us as we strengthen the kingdom together.” He chuckled. “And if you’ll pardon the crudity of the statement, gods help whoever pisses Father off.”

Before anyone could add anything, the doors to the dining room burst open as a Pegasus messenger quickly sought out Hammer Strike.

“Sir, we’ve received word from the Thestrals in the north. The Gryphons’ storm core refinement facility and its city were hit by a plague, and it seems at last check that the survivors have all but left it empty.” He took several breaths before continuing on. “The Gryphons are mobilizing.”

The grin on Hammer Strike’s face slowly dropped as his mood soured. It was soon followed by his anger as within himself something resonated once more.

Silverware clattered to the floor as the occupants of the room reeled. Despite the warmth of the summer, their bodies trembled. The castle didn’t move. The stones didn’t shake. And yet the messenger was driven to his knees by the sheer weight of the pressure that had been exerted and now pulsed through the castle. Magical instruments went haywire. Beakers exploded in their labs from the supercharge. Artifacts ran amok as their enchantments went haywire. The golems that had been set on the walls of the city began to glow like beacons as they entered into high alert. The Earth Ponies felt it. The Pegasi tasted it. And the Unicorns, … the Unicorns feared it. And rightly so.

“Calm down,” Clover said in a shaky voice. His fury burned in her soul with an intense heat. Not only from her thaumic bond with him, but also from her own skills as a thaumaturgist and the more intimate bonds they had shared over the years since their meeting.

“She’s right. If you let your anger get the best of you again, you may ascend. We both know you don’t want that,” Harmony said as she flashed into existence next to him.

Hammer Strike slowly took a breath in before sighing as the pressure within the room was snuffed out once more. Placing down his silverware, he then stood from the table. “Thank you for the information, Carrier. I will deal with this immediately.”

“Aren't you going to finish dinner?” Clover asked.

“Sorry. My appetite has escaped me at the moment.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “If you would excuse me, I believe I need to … renegotiate some terms.”

“Hoboy. Gryphons are about to get wrecked,” Vital noted as he popped kernels of kettle corn into his mouth.

“If history is correct, this should be the last major conflict,” Grif noted. “Of course, we can’t know for sure with Discord, but it’s hopeful.”

“You mean the last major conflict before the Third Gryphon War, I presume?”

“Before the Discordian Era,” Grif said. “A good few millennia away from the Third Gryphon War.”

“And with good reason, I would assume, given what we saw Hammer Strike do to the Dragonlands.”

“It means we may be able to pick him up soon,” Grif said.

“How soon?” Rarity asked.

“That, I can’t tell you.” Grif shrugged.

The TARDIS whirred as a pale blue light emanated from the round things along the walls, and silver flecks spiralled in the plunger as it continued to work.

“... I’m going to guess this is some sort of protective measure?” Vital Spark asked.

“Of course it is,” The Doctor said. “You don’t go and let yourself get burned a second time if you can help it, do you?”

“Just double checking is all,” Vital said. “I don’t mean her any offense, but usually when she does something unusual, it either means trouble or adventure is on the way. Usually both.”

A piece of the console actually sputtered in response to the comment.

“Did she just … spit at Vital Spark?” Twilight asked.

“I believe,” Pensword said through a smirk, “that the appropriate term is a raspberry.”

“Are you sure you don’t mean a snozzberry, Pensword?” Vital returned with a playful smile.

“Who ever heard of a snozzberry?” Grif said in a high-pitched uppity tone.

“I’m confused. Is a snozzberry a real fruit from Earth or is this just an inside joke?” Twilight asked.

Vital just chuckled and responded with, “We are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile at the antics as Twilight frowned in confusion. It was moments like this that reminded him just why he valued planets like Equestria and Earth so much.

The crags of the once-resplendent Dragonlands now clawed desperately at the air like the desiccated remains of a corpse. Such a drastic change was a concerning thing for the Gryphons to note. But since the fire breathers had not gone into Gryphon territory, it was possible they may have done it to their own lands through civil war, or so the crewmen of the ship supposed as they flew over the landscape. Their cannons and weapons were fully charged, ready to strike any wyrms that might be foolish enough to harry them in their trek. Provided they traveled quickly without any intent of harvesting materials, the Dragons would ignore them.

But it paid to be on the safe side.

The ships were not nearly so numerous as in their previous campaign, but what vessels could be spared were filled to capacity and escorted by remaining troops on rotating shifts to avoid exhaustion. When they passed over the jagged scar of land into the green, blood began to race. It had been a number of decades since the last failed campaign.

Decades in which the enemy would have had time to further entrench themselves and bolster defenses. Time to prepare.

The resulting battle would be glorious.

The admiral in charge of the fleet gazed intently through their monitors as they approached the first settlements. They homed in on a single form standing tall in the wind. Such a thing would not be out of the ordinary. Many a Pony stood proud in the last war. Many were killed. This one, however, was different in two respects. First, it was a lone Earth Pony without armor, and only carrying three weapons: a sword, a war hammer, and a scythe. Secondly, and inexplicably, that Earth Pony was standing on thin air at equal altitude to the approaching armada with blue flames wreathing his hooves.

The Pony didn’t smile, nor did he frown. His face was one of implacable calm. His eyes, however, glowed a steady red that caused the less experienced fighters of the craft to tremble from their stations at the helm. The Pony didn’t speak. He merely raised a foreleg and waved once.

A sudden hush fell over the expanse as clouds darkened. The Gryphons could feel the change in the weather as the distant rumble of thunder carried on the wind and the air became charged. But if this Pony believed that lightning was deter them, he had another thing coming.

“Attention all vessels. Prepare to fire on my command,” the admiral called over the comms.

That was as far as he would get. The air was consumed in a roar as light seared, glass burst, and the occupants of the cabin were completely immolated. Hell and Tartarus rained from the skies to strike the vessels and their troops with streaking comets and great boulders set ablaze with a heat that could reduce the metallic portions of their ships to slag. Whole regiments were consumed. Those that managed to dodge either choked from burnt lungs and esophagi that had been reduced to the equivalent of charcoal or screamed in agony as their own bodies singed, boiled, burst, and finally ignited in dripping flares that were like so much wax dropping off a candle.

Feathers were reduced to ash, and wings cooked to mingle with the smell of smoke and noxious fumes. Some ships managed to reach the ground before their imminent explosion. The rest blew apart like so many fireworks, each with the radiance of a small star made all the brighter by the sheer intensity of the energy unleashed when their storm cores exploded. Truly, it was a sight to behold. And the fires burned hot enough to make even a Dragon jealous.

It took all of maybe a minute for the invading force to be wiped out. Hammer Strike gazed coldly over the remains and descended slowly as he extended his thoughts to Ainz. If the Gryphons wanted intimidation, he’d give them intimidation.

“Ainz, I have some work for you.”

“How may I be of service?”

“The first wave needs to be cleaned up.” Hammer Strike looked down to the wreckage below. “And, I’d like you to send a message for me.”

“Anything in particular?” Ainz asked, even as his black gate appeared and he stepped through.

“I want you to ensure they regret their actions. Let them know I will not allow a single life to be taken from us.”

“I have just the thing.” Ainz laughed as he began raising the dead around him one by one.

“Whatever works. I need to depart to the next fleet.”

The great mountain peak that rose in the range flanked the pass that led to the far north. At a distance, nothing would seem out of the ordinary, but as one drew closer to the pass, the mountain’s structure began to change. Great towering forms of proud stone Gryphon warrior kings stared resolutely with folded wings over the endless expanse, a constant vanguard to the approach of potential enemies, and a watchful gaze to protect the weary traveller.

Vast cliff faces opened and closed at the command of the evokers and engineers that manned them in anticipation of arriving airships and warriors coming home to roost. Crags and caverns were deliberately dug to appear natural while granting the camouflage and vantage points necessary to pin enemies and invaders with cover fire. Massive ballistae and storm cannons lined the battlements in carefully concealed chutes that would pull aside to position the barrels and allow them to fire.

And deep within the walls of that structure, the halls were lit with torches and crystals that glowed with a warm light. In the court of the king, cleverly structured quartz channeled the sunlight from above to filter in a halo over the throne, giving the appearance of a divine aura. The rest of the structure was cleverly built with controlled shutters that could control the intensity of the light filtered through the rest of the roof, and thus prevent blindness when the light outside became too radiant. Within that court, the king sat upon his throne in full regalia, as duty required of him. His advisors and generals each waited to offer their reports on the progress of the next stage in their conquest. A war table had been set up to the side for visual aid as they planned their offensive.

“Has there been any word from the assault team?”

A Gryphon with black feathers and gold tips bowed respectfully to his king. “None, Your Majesty. It is possible that they may be waiting to establish a proper foothold before—”

He was interrupted as the large double doors exploded open with a loud double crack that echoed through the room. The smell of burnt feathers and flesh filled the space as a figure dragged itself in, leaving a trail of ash, congealed blood, and burnt feathers behind it. It looked like at one time it had been a Gryphon, but it had been badly burnt. Fur and feathers were all but gone, revealing mottled puffy flesh in various areas. Half-melted armor was grafted halfway onto the skin and half hung off, swaying with every step. The fact that the creature was undead was fairly obvious, given that half its face had been completely burnt off, leaving a charred skull behind. The one empty eye socket burned with a sickly green light while the one remaining eye was gray and unseeing. Stumps that had been wings flapped reflexively now and then as the figure dragged it’s corpse to the foot of the throne.

It ignored the screams and cries of the various Gryphons, the dagger sticking out of its side, the broken spear shaft sticking out of its chest or even the multiple arrows that peppered it’s body. As the guards drew their spears, it simply looked up to the king. Its half-connected beak slurred its words.

“Re...porrrt,” it said, giving a salute that appeared almost mocking.

“What is the meaning of this?” one of the generals snarled as he drew his swords and stepped before the throne to prevent access to the king. If the creature wanted to attack, it would not claim the greatest prize.

“Re...porrt frroo...mmm t...he fr..ont,” the corpse offered. “All…. de...dead…. To...tal…. Losss.”

Another of the generals growled. “That thing is a mockery of our soldiers. One of those damned Unicorns must be using necromancy.” He spat on the floor.

“No… no...t po...nny… Kingggg…. Of De..ath,” the corpse said. “Be….ware, the Flame… offf… E...que...stria… still wal..ks. And de...ath, serves him.” Dark flames erupted from the corpse, formed from a fire that almost seemed to be the absence of light. “Fi….re and de...ath, be...ware the ponies… lest yo...our fa...te be ours!” The voice was a chorus now, not one Gryphon, but many, legions of Gryphons screaming in painful chorus inside the single voice. The corpse began to disintegrate before them. Fur, feathers, flesh, bone, and metal all crumbling to death. “Be...ware….” The word faded as the last of the skull turned to dust before their eyes.

“There … there’s no way,” The king sputtered fearfully.

“Winds….” One of the generals shuddered. “Get our evokers here on the double, and keep those ashes where they are. I want verification that this isn’t some Pony trick.”

“You need not look much farther.” Hammer Strike spoke up, having just appeared within the room.

One of the Gryphons lunged to strike him with a sword.

Hammer Strike didn’t bother to move. One moment the Gryphon was there, the next, he wasn’t. Soon after, a weight fell upon each Gryphon within the room, later to be discovered that it spread much farther. He turned his attention toward the King and started to walk forward.

The Gryphons were all immobilized by the force pressing down on them. The king could barely force himself to stand with the help of bracing against one of his weapons as a prop. His entire body trembled with the effort.

“I grow tired of these transgressions.” Hammer Strike’s frown deepened. “I ensured you were offered mercy from the last time. I let the Dragonlands serve as a warning for those who dared think another attempt.”

“You…. You’re supposed to be dead,” one of the older generals snarled.

“I have been alive since before the fall of the Alicorn Empire. What led you to believe I would suddenly die of old age?” Hammer Strike turned his attention to the General.

“Im … possible,” the Gryphon gasped with wide eyes as he gazed into Hammer Strike’s glowing irises. But that tech was unmistakable to those who had known the work of the former Children of Faust. And even after the generations that had passed, they still knew how to recognize the work of such implants.

“I’ll be so kind as to give you something more to think about. I was there, during their fall,” Hammer Strike growled.

The silence that greeted that statement was deafening. It was not the silence of the grave, but rather the silence of the shadow that haunts the sleep of those who fear. These creatures were predators, and yet they now faced an entity that looked like prey, yet had outlasted even their most hated enemy. Was he the cause of the fall, or did he contribute to it in some way? Such questions did not matter in the long run. What did matter was that he survived. And he now stood where no Alicorn ever could again.

“Do you all finally understand the mercy I granted you?”

The king landed heavily back on his throne as he gazed in utter disbelief at the Pony. It was all he could do, just to nod.

“Make this mistake again, and I will do to you what I did to the Dragons. Understood?”

The king swallowed heavily. “U-understood.”

“Good.” Hammer Strike allowed the pressure to fade from the room. “I have a meeting to go to now with your emperor. I have watch over the entirety of Equestria. Recall every unit you sent out or you will not see them again.” He turned and moved towards the exit. He didn’t bother to check for any arrows aimed his way. They knew what they faced now, and whether they were willing to admit it or not, they feared him. And that was just fine to Hammer Strike. They had reason to be afraid.

The ring of a tiny mallet striking a chisel tinked softly as microshavings of silvery metal fluttered to the workshop floor of the forge. The project had taken weeks to accomplish, from the harvesting of the best materials to guiding Luna in the crafting of one of the key alloys to smelting the other ingredients and shaping them into proper billets to mold and shape as he saw fit. Fortunately, he had an advantage most Ponies did not. He could summon flames to maintain a constant temperature on the metal as he fashioned it into its final shape. Now he gazed upon the fruits of that labor as he tapped away to fashion the etchings and engravings of the design.

Arcane loops flowed, wound in viney tendrils across the surface while delicate blows carefully placed allowed him to replicate the appearance of minute scales. The talon caps were engraved with runes for durability, protection, and piercing. And each of them bore a flexible joint-like sheathe that stretched up the talon’s finger to guard against attacks or bites that might seek to sever the limb from the tool. This sleeve would only yield for its true owner, and had been fashioned to reflect the feathers that comprised much of Yharon’s body. In every way, it was a work of love from a parent who never wanted their child to repeat the past.

Given what had already happened for the kingdom and its history, he knew only too well there probably wasn’t much time left before he needed to return to the future. And he would do everything in his power to prepare his children to stand on their own.

The twin doors of the forge yawned open, and Yharon strode through the portal. He sighed as the familiar warmth washed over his body, helping his muscles to relax in what would have been uncomfortably hot to most other creatures.  “I missed this place,” he said with a smile. Then he turned to face his father. “You sent for me?”

“Indeed.” Hammer Strike nodded as he turned from his work. “Since you’ve finished growing, I was able to actually work on a project I’ve been holding off on.”

Yharon raised a quizzical brow. “And you need my assistance?”

“No, I need you to put these on and tell me how they fit.” Hammer Strike shifted to reveal the newly finished talon guards.

Yharon gaped at the sight. A brief glow passed over his wings as he scanned the gear, and his four eyes widened. “You used eclipse steel?” The gear slipped onto his fingers and glowed as they locked onto his magical aura. In a matter of seconds, the guards for his fingers extended to consume his whole hands, forming a flexible and sturdy pair of gloves that wove in a mesh of metal fibers to make the pieces whole.

“Fit well?” Hammer Strike glanced over the guard as Yharon turned it over to look at it.

“Deployable mesh, and feather-guard plates that function equally well as blades in the event I require them. Interesting.” He frowned in concentration, and the plated feathers sharpened into sleek razors with reinforced blades. “Multifunctionality always was your style.” He smiled softly and knelt to embrace his father as the offensive capabilities reverted to neutral. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

“I figured it would serve you well in case they’re needed,” Hammer Strike smiled as he returned the embrace. “Be sure to test them out in the training yard. I can’t exactly do that part.” He lifted his hoof for emphasis.

“Got any more of those Dragon scales lying around?”

“Fair point.” Hammer Strike opened a rift to his side and reached in for a moment. “Let’s see….” Soon after, he pulled out a larger scale. “Huh, not quite dragon scale, but dragon turtle scale works well enough.”

“I suppose for a test, it will suffice. They’re not full-blooded Dragons, but we can judge how effective the gear is this way and estimate how it will function against full-blooded Dragons.” He seized the scale and laid it on his back.

“Those scales should be of rough equivalent, so it’ll work out fine.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Also, is Clover still gone with The Doctor?”

“I certainly haven’t seen them yet.”

Hammer Strike frowned. “The Doctor’s always been a bit off when it comes to returning back at a decent time.”

“I’m sure he’ll show up soon enough. The latest he’s ever gone is a month before dropping her off.”

“Yeah.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “He’ll show up eventually.”

The adventurer’s guild was immersed in the scent of roasted pork. The massive porcine body of a dire boar lay on a pole as thick as a tree trunk over a massive fire of silver flames. Luna's horn glowed brightly as she kept up the spell while levitating the beast’s massive head to the cheering crowd of mixed races.

“So, my friends, the boar of Tampa Neigh charged me dead on with tusks, as you can see, that would peirce plate mail! The beast nearly had me, too.” Luna raised a wing, showing a long running scar that was still healing at her side. “But just as it was grazing my side with the flesh wound you see, I sent my mace into the side of its neck once, twice, thrice! And with a mighty crack, like a felled redwood, the monster’s neck gave way! And that, my friends, is the reason I bring you this feast tonight. And a new trophy.” She raised the boar’s head higher. And like the urging of a conductor’s hand, or hoof as the case may be, raised the cheering’s volume in turn. She lifted her tankard with a hoof and threw back its contents, chugging down the ale with gusto that left the stallions leering or hooting in turn while others grinned and coins changed possession.

Celestia nursed her drink and smiled sadly at the sights and sounds of the hall. In many ways, the rowdiness reminded her of the feasts back in Camelot. This room held that same sense of comradery and fervor that had raised so many spirits and been a guiding light in an otherwise dismal and dark age. In a strange way, one could very well think that such ties of friendship were a form of magic. She couldn’t help but shake her head at the thought as her smile lifted a little higher. If only it were that easy. Still, this was a time of merrymaking, and she wasn’t about to spoil the mood with the clouds of her past. She rose and beamed at her younger sister.

“Luna always has and always will be the stronger of the two of us. Some would say she was made for combat. And, in a way, perhaps they are right. She takes to every weapon she trains with a fervor and passion I have seen in only a few before in our many years. She is a warrior of the people and for the people. Never have I seen such a perfect balance of laughter, loyalty, and honesty in a warrior. She fights not wantonly, but with a cause for her friends and her loved ones. She shapes her destiny as easily as she shapes the ore of our father’s craft. May her strengths never fail her, and may her senses and instincts always guide her to remain steadfast and true in service to the kingdom. To my beloved sister, Princess Luna, and to the future of Equestria!” She raised her pint in salute to the mare.

The tavern roared with approval as glasses were raised.

The sisters drank together, each smiling to the other, until their eyes widened. Their horns flashed briefly, then fizzled as their drinks both fell to the floor. A ragged gasp escaped their chests synchronously. The whole of the gathering was suddenly silent as all eyes fell on the princesses, and a low murmur of concern waved through the room.

“Luna, did you…?” Celestia asked as she stared into her sister’s startled eyes, an expression mirrored on her own face.

“We need to get back.” Luna nodded.

“We’re sorry, everyone. We’ll have to return another time. Please, carry on with your feasting. We have some business to attend to.” Celestia’s horn lit up with a radiance that she had not shown in some time. When the light faded, she was gone. Luna followed close behind with a flash of blue, leaving behind a gentle sifting cloud of silvery stardust in her wake.

The murmur arose again, but this time it was not the merry buzz of a victory party. No, this was the tension of warriors put on edge. Those who were religious prayed silently to their gods. If there was something that rattled the princesses, it would likely rattle them all.

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he sat on his throne. While there weren't any meetings to attend to, he had made it a point to keep himself available within the castle at certain points in the day to deal with any issues that may appear. He was caught off guard, however, as the familiar groan of the TARDIS faded in, and before him she appeared.

“A little late, but, better than never.” He chuckled. “Somewhat strange, though. He usually doesn’t land in the throne room,” he muttered to himself as he stood from the throne.

The doors creaked open, and The Doctor clopped out, took one look at Hammer Strike, and promptly reared, fell onto his back, and bleated. “Oh, gods,” he panted. “Don’t scare me like that! These hearts aren’t as young as they used to be.”

Hammer Strike raised a brow, “You appear to be quite on edge. Is something wrong?”

“It’s complicated,” the Pony said as he clambered to his hooves and drew closer to the doors. “The good news is she’s alive. The … bad news is … well … you might want to sit down.”

“Don’t give me that. Open those doors fully.”

“Hammer Strike, I really don’t think—”

Hammer Strike gave a firm stomp of his hoof. “TARDIS?”

The doors inexplicably flung out with enough force to send The Doctor catapulting to the floor. He slid with his face dragging until he slowed to a stop at Hammer Strike’s hooves. Seconds later, a large stone statue levitated out the door. The glint of gold and a bright blue stone that glinted with a white star that crossed its center, fringed with a purple tinge.

After a minute of staring, Hammer Strike finally let out a soft, “Oh.”

“I tried, Hammer Strike. I really did.” He stared forlornly back at the mare. A haunted look came over his face. “I couldn’t save her.” He shook his head. “Failed again,” he muttered.

“I…” Hammer Strike took a breath to steady himself. “I don’t blame you,” he finished softly.

The Doctors’ pupils shrank to pinpricks. His breathing was shallow, and his voice shook as he drew himself back up. It was more of a stagger than a proper rise. “You … you what?”

“I don’t blame you, Doctor.” Hammer Strike’s expression dropped as he gazed once more at the statue of the mare who had been his companion and lover for so many years.

“How…?”

Hammer Strike inhaled before turning towards the Doctor. “Doctor, you may do plenty of good, but that does not mean ill will is not cast toward you or those assisting you at the time. She knew the risk.” He exhaled. “She knew. We both knew. But it’s not like you call out for it to happen.”

“She … she’s not dead yet,” he offered weakly. “Temporal lock of sorts, suspended animation. Until … until….” He swallowed heavily.

“I know.” Hammer Strike sighed. “...I know. I’m sorry Doctor, but…”

The Doctor nodded. “I’ll … I’ll go. Just ….” He paused at the doors. “Call on me if you need anything, all right? I’ll come.”

“I know.” Hammer Strike sighed.

The Doctor nodded the once, then strode into the spacious control room. His hoofbeats seemed to echo in both their ears as he strode into the far quieter TARDIS. The doors creaked closed behind him, and the ship began to fade as the engines engaged again. Finally, Hammer Strike was left alone with his wife.

“I wondered when that was going to happen,” Vital Spark said quietly as he looked away from the screen. The view from the monitor had brought back some bittersweet memories.

“But I don’t understand. What happened to her?” Twilight asked.

“A poison.” The doctor sighed heavily and shook his head. “One that was meant for me.”

“I assume this was something more potent than the average Flames of Tartarus?” Vital Spark asked.

“Nothing so trivial,” The Doctor said. “This poison was meant to kill a Timelord, meant to be able to overcome regeneration.”

“Is that even possible?” Twilight asked.

“Yes, but not easily,” The Doctor noted. “My kind thought we’d destroyed such knowledge.”

“You know what Grif says about knowledge, Doctor,” Vital noted.

“Doesn’t mean all knowledge survives,” The Doctor countered. “There are things lost to time that will remain lost.”

“Honestly, I don’t think whatever higher powers there are up there would allow weaknesses to be completely forgotten or lost forever. Everything that’s mortal has a weakness. Heck, even immortal creatures have weaknesses.” Vital shrugged. “Nature just doesn’t allow something to be invincible.”

“Maybe, but such poisons are far worse for non-timelords, as you may have noticed.”

Vital shook his head. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“Anyway, now you are aware of how that time loop started,” the Doctor said tersely.

“So, what do we do now? Does that mean we’re close?” Vital Spark asked.

“Possibly.” The Doctor shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure.”

“I hope the return trip won’t take so long,” Rarity said as she looked over her husband’s haunted face. “The sooner we can get him back to the present, the sooner he can let go of his grief. Clover and I will both see to that.”

“I think you should really think about how deep that goes before you make declarations, Rarity,” Grif said from the corner of the room. “Better to be aware if you’ll need a snorkel or an oxygen tank.”

“I never said it was going to be easy, Grif,” Rarity said. “But we’re his wives. We will do whatever we can to help. And if he doesn’t want it, then we’ll give him the space he needs. Your advice is appreciated, however, and duly noted.”

“Rarity, … I still mourn the loss of my entire town. Even with rebuilding New Unity, that darkness will never fully go away. Also, Clover was almost Hammer Strike’s equal, and … while you are an element bearer, and so can live as long as Hammer Strike, this is a cheat number unknown with Clover and death. Unless she grows wings, Hammer Strike will have that darkness of worry and loss always clouding his heart.” He snorted. “I’m sorry to take my leave, Rarity, but I need to clear my head. I’ll be in the training room if you need me.” He strode to the door and his hoofbeats clanged along the metal floor.

“Should we ready the welcome mat, then?” Vital Spark asked.

Derpy smiled. “I’ll go make some muffins.”

“I could do it,” Hammer Strike spoke softly. “I could break you out of that stone and remove any ailment in an instant.”

He looked up at her face. “But, I can’t. Gods, I want to,” he continued. “I want to just fix this all and never have to worry about it again, but I can’t.” He grit his teeth.  “It would be so easy. I did it before, but that’s the thing. I did it before. I couldn’t do it temporarily. I couldn’t put you through that.” His voice almost cracked as his gaze lowered.

The doors to the great hall blew apart as Luna charged through, followed closely by her sister. Their horns blazed in a frantic display that Hammer Strike hadn’t seen in the mares since before their training.

“Father, Mother. Is she—?” Celestia didn’t have the chance to ask more. There was the statue. There was the stallion. Just as the two sisters had seen. “Merciful Faust, no,” she said hoarsely.

“What happened?” Luna asked. Tears trailed down her cheeks. The merriment of the guild hall tavern had long since been left behind.

“She,” he took a breath. “She was poisoned with something beyond medical help.”

“How?” Luna asked. “We have the best mages in the world, alchemists, a lich. Surely, we could have found an antidote!”

“She’ll have seconds to live outside of this petrification, and the poison isn’t active in stone. By the divine, I want to do everything to cure her, but I know the course of events to come.”

Celestia’s head whipped to face her father. “How, exactly?”

“Don’t you remember? I didn’t come from this point in time.” Hammer Strike frowned. “I suppose you might not have been told in the end.”

Celestia frowned. “Then why did we...?”

“That may have been my fault.” A familiar voice spoke from the corner of the room as an all-too-familiar Gryphon appeared from an open window.

“It’s been awhile, Hermes,” Hammer Strike commented.

“Yes,” Hermes said with a sigh. “Seems like I was too long, if anything.” He hugged the caduceus closely to himself as he looked at the statue sadly.

“What do you mean when you say it might have been your fault, Hermes?” Celestia asked. Her gaze narrowed in suspicion. “I didn’t even get to finish my question.”

“I may not have Apollo's gift for foresight but it’s not entirely outside my purview,” Hermes said as he held his staff outwards. “Especially when it involves travelers or medicine.”

“And what does that have to do with what Luna and I saw?”

“I was attempting to warn you.” Hermes sighed. He pointed a talon, and it was that moment Luna and Celestia both felt a stinging behind their ear, which was revealed to be a snake bite. “I suppose it’s obvious that I failed.”

“But you were nowhere near us,” Luna said in bewilderment.

“And we didn’t sense any of your magic,” Celestia added. “How…?”

“Caduceus has many more options than I do,” Hermes said as the gold seemed to recede momentarily, revealing the two asps who flickered their tongues at the princesses.

“Then … what are we to do now?” Celestia finally asked.

“For now,” Hammer Strike spoke up, “you’ll … have to say your goodbyes. She’ll be back one day, but it won’t be anytime soon.”

Hermes approached the statue and placed the golden staff against it. Gold light weaved around the statue’s form before fading. “I’ve made sure the stone will be protected from the years until the traveler finds her way home.”

“And we will keep watch,” Celestia said fiercely.

“We’ll keep it safe,” Luna added.

“I’ll take my leave,” Hermes said. “I’ll talk with you later, Hammer Strike.” He nodded in the king’s direction.

The sound of rapidly approaching hooves echoed as the galloper approached. It didn’t take much longer for Star Swirl to be on the scene. He gaped at the doors, then looked to the others. “What happened here? Has there been an attack?”

Hammer Strike sighed. “No, Star Swirl, there has not.” He glanced to Celestia and Luna and gave both a brief nod of dismissal.

The two made their way wordlessly out of the room with Hermes close behind. The two girls would be lost for a time as they sought to navigate their grief. The least he could do was watch over them and try to help them reach their destination safely. The doors were levitated back into their place behind them, though the doors were still splintered and barely stayed put.

Star Swirl frowned as he applied his magics to the doors and they began to repair themselves. “A cloud hovers darker over you than usual, Hammer Strike. What has happened?”

“You’re seeing it.” Hammer Strike looked to Clover’s statue once more.

“A gift for Clover? Or something more?” The sorcerer approached the statue, then stopped to gape at the mare when he noticed the star sapphire that hung from her neck. “What did this, a cocatrix, a basilisk?” His horn lit as he prepared to cast a spell. “I’ll have her back momentarily.”

“Stop.” Hammer Strike’s voice sounded more like a feral beast than a Pony. “You remove her from that petrification, she dies.”

Star Swirl’s horn faded to normalcy as he looked gravely on the Earth Pony. “Tell me what happened.”

“Her journey with The Doctor went south. She’ll be cured one day, but it’s not any time soon.”

Star Swirl’s pupils shrank as his breathing became unsteady. A feral snort and sputter gave vent to his anger. “What did that walking aberration do to my little girl?”

“Do not call him that. This situation was out of his hooves.”

“And how would you know? You can’t have been there. If you were, she never would have been in this state in the first place!” For perhaps the first and only time in Equestria’s history, tears swam in the wizard’s eyes.

“I would suggest you bite. Your. Tongue.” Hammer Strike grit his teeth.

“I will not!” Star Swirl contested hotly. “Whether she washed her hooves of me or not, I have the right to care for her and her fate, just as you do!”

“I will not fall for such crocodile tears,” he said as his voice became more forceful, even as it retained the same tone. “I know the machinations of your psyche after years of studying it. While you took her in, it was not out of kindness. It was a necessary act to keep things in line, and your future secure.”

“I took her in because she needed someone to guide her on the right path!” Star Swirl snapped. “Or would you rather I left her to fester and become something evil when I could stop it?”

“And where did all that ‘compasion’ go when you practically tortured her as she grew?” Hammer Strike’s fury began to show. “Your so-called ‘right path’ led you down the most careful path you could take, with not an ounce of power to come from it!”

“And look where that power got her!” Star Swirl’s horn flashed with his anger.

Hammer Strike’s eyes glowed brighter as suddenly all magic was snuffed out within the room. “Indeed. Look at the progress she made. Head of the mage court. Teacher of many students.” He took several long steps toward Star Swirl. “Queen. Of. Unity.”

Star Swirl stared defiantly at Hammer Strike as he approached and stood his ground. He opened his mouth to speak.

Hammer Strike didn’t give him the opportunity.

“I’m not finished!” he yelled. “She stood more than a lifetime away from you. Do not dare attempt to claim some righteous stance against this all. You are little more than a wielder of cheap tricks and petty illusions!” The room practically shook from his fury.

“I may be less powerful than you, but I do not act on mere illusion and tricks.” Star Swirl took a deep breath. “We are both high strung. It would be best I take my leave of you until we can both speak with clearer heads.”

“Never return, Star Swirl.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “You have nothing to offer Unity.”

Star Swirl turned and strode to the entrance. He barely managed to pull one of the heavy doors open. He stopped to look back only once. “And you may have offered too much.”

Hammer Strike stomped his hoof as the doors closed firmly. After a moment, he sighed. “If he weren’t so pathetic, he would have proven to be at least a decent mage.” He frowned before turning towards Clover once more. “I should move you somewhere safe.”

The caravan of travelers going to and from the capital flowed like a tide. Minotaurs, Zebras, Unicorns, Pegasi, Earth Ponies, Diamond Dogs, Gryphons, Hippogriffs, and even a strange race of bipedal cats streamed through the ornate gates of the outer ring of the great city. The whole of the country had been so well policed and guarded over the centuries that few, if any, raised so much as a brow at the sudden groaning and materialization of the strange blue box.

The doors swung inward with a loud creak, followed by a tangle of blue and purple feathers as two winged creatures rolled onto the dirt in a dusty mess.

The Doctor sighed as they exited the police box. “Please try to show some discretion.”

Vital Spark chuckled as he stepped out of the box. “I never expected to see Pensword acting this much like a foal.”

The Pegasus in question finally managed to disentangle himself from Twilight and slowly rose to his hooves to dust himself off. “Doctor, I will do my best, but in a very long ago past, I was a historian maniac. I can only promise so much.”

Twilight was too busy gaping at the city walls to comment. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed on the soaring walls and golden guardhouses that stood atop the battlements. Ballistae and other siege weaponry had been mounted atop the walls alongside various guards, and a wavering in the air surrounding the gates indicated the degree of enchantments that had been placed over the area to prevent any foul play.

“Doctor, any enchantments or wards we should be aware of? I don’t want our first meeting with Hammer Strike to be in chains,” Pensword said.

Grif darted out of the TARDIS and proceeded to throw a cloak over the princess. “Geeze, Twilight! You want to cause a fuss?” he growled.

“Why would I—?”

Rarity trotted out next. “Darling, think a moment. We’re in the past, and you’re—”

“Something that has not been seen outside of two sisters,” Pensword interrupted quickly. Then he facehooved. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch that. I was too caught up in the large scale problems.”

Twilight suddenly looked sheepish. “Oh, … I … hadn’t considered that. I would look like … an undesirable, wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t worry, Twilight. It happens to everyone.” Derpy beamed as she carried a wicker basket full to the brim with muffins. “Let’s go say hi to Hammer Strike.”

As Grif reached up to check his weapons, a breezy voice whispered, “Thank you.” His talons touched the studded leather of the armor he’d been wearing prior to the coat's appearance.

His eyes widened visibly. “The coat,” he said as he quickly checked his gear, sighing with relief to find everything where it should be.

“Well, I think Hammer Strike is going to know we are here,” Pensword quipped worriedly. “Should we stay out here or still risk going into the city? Hammer Strike most likely will have trained guards to spot anomalies like us right away.”

“I could always sneak past while you all, wait, and bring him back,” Grif pointed out.

Pensword looked at Grif. “And you don’t think he’d have counters for your sneaking?”

“Besides, do you really think I’m going to miss a chance like this? Actually seeing Equestria in its real golden age! I can’t believe it!” Twilight squealed in delight and clapped her forehooves excitedly.

“Maybe those nice looking guards can give us a tour,” Derpy said as she pointed toward a squad of troops approaching with military precision.

“Doctor,” the lead called out, scanning over the group until they settled onto his cutie mark. “Would you allow a brief scan to ensure your identity?”

“Of course, gentle stallions, of course.” The doctor nodded. “If I may request we do this out of the public eye? One of my companions may cause … issues.”

“We’ve noticed.” The lead nodded before gesturing toward the wall.

A Unicorn in the unit stepped forward and gave a small nod. “It’ll be quick.” His horn glowed briefly before he nodded and stepped back once more. “Two. He’s clear.”

“All right, we’ll have to run through the standard procedure, so please follow us to the main gate. Traffic has slowed in the recent hour, so there should be little delays.”

They followed quickly and quietly to the main gate, making a point to not show any resistance when asked to do something, up to disarming, but the Ponies seemed to understand Gryphons’ unwillingness to be unarmed.

“King Hammer Strike has been made aware of your arrival. Should your business involve him, his schedule is clear. If not, you are permitted to move about the city at your leisure.” The guard turned toward Twilight. “Please keep your cloak on. We understand you are traveling with The Doctor, but civilians may be put off.”

Twilight gulped but nodded her head in understanding.

“Our business does involve Hammer Strike, but it isn’t urgent,” Grif spoke. “Two of our number would like to appreciate the city for a time, if it is possible?”

“So long as you abide by our laws, there should be no issues.”

“May I have a list of rules?” Pensword asked.

“Beyond the standard rules of any city, such as theft being against the law, keep your weapons sheathed, unless a situation comes forth that requires it.”

“I don’t suppose there is a line of credit set aside for such times? I doubt our bits are quite up to your current standard,” Grif noted.

He nodded.“We can trade your currency for our gold standard here at the guardhouse.” 

Derpy walked up to the guard and handed him a muffin. “Thank you for your service.”

“Uh,” the guard seemed puzzled for a moment before nodding. “Appreciated...?”

Grif gave the guard a bag of bits to be converted. When he received his money, he nodded. “We’ll head to the palace first. Maybe one of the princesses can give Twilight a decent glamour. And then, and only then,” he said pointedly as he looked at Twilight. “We’ll see about letting you see the city. With supervision, of course.”

“And no, Twilight, it can’t be me. I am worried I’d pull a Twilight myself here. You’ve never seen me in a full on Titanic episode,” Penword said.

“Who, then?” Twilight asked.

“I’m pretty sure Grif meant himself. He’s very good at policing these kinds of things,” Vital noted.

“Twilight will probably have to limit her interaction with Celestia and Luna as much as possible,” Rarity added. “After all, we don’t want to risk their discovering the future Twilight has with them.”

“Rarity … remember a certain tree? Celestia most likely knew about Twilight from the moment she earned her cutie mark. What if she knows this much longer? This could be a closed time loop,” Pensword commented.

“Less talking, more walking,” The Doctor said hastily. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner Derpy and I can get back to our private business. Come on, you lot!”

The party started the trip with their escort surrounding them. And all the while, Pensword engaged in a series of queries with the one Pony that knew history better than he ever could.

Hammer Strike hummed to himself. He was alerted to the presence of The Doctor and a large group of companions. While he was unsure on whether it was them or not, his worries were alleviated when he noticed a familiar weight fall over him. It was a comforting feeling as he glanced down and noticed an old familiar sight of blue and gold, though it had been so long, it was almost alien again.

That, and the pauldrons were new.

“You’ve certainly changed.” Hammer Strike blinked in confusion before pulling his coat open and adjusting it, revealing the glittering interior. His previous coat was made from the ursa supremus fur. Now it was the interior of his previous coat, as galaxies blinked in and out from within.

“It’s good to be home,” a breezy soft voice echoed in his mind.

“Who are you?” Harmony’s voice rang like a crystal bell at the sensation of the new presence.

“I…” Hammer Strike was caught off guard. “I think that was my coat?”

“The Maker has not given me a name,” the voice explained. “I am his, and he is mine. And I will continue to carry his burdens.”

“Then you are welcome. In a way, you remind me of myself. I look forward to exploring this new … acquaintance.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Hammer Strike muttered. “We’ll discuss things later. For now, they’re almost here.”

The doors were opened and a large group of individuals, most of them familiar, walked into the room. They all had their eyes on Hammer Strike and his throne as they walked forward, until a white and purple blur slammed into him.

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he returned the embrace. “And here I planned to greet you all in an attempt to mislead you. Though, I suppose I should have anticipated this.”

“Well, let’s say there’s a lot more you’ll be able to try to anticipate later.” She smiled and hugged him again. “I did miss you, darling. I’m just sorry it took us so long to reach you.”

He gave a smirk. “It was only roughly two thousand years. You act as though it was a long time for you all. Though, I’m certain the little snips that the TARDIS gave you provided some insight onto what happened over those years.”

“You’ve been through hell,” Grif said.

“Yeah, but Asmodeus was quite hospitable about it all.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Or did you mean in the metaphorical sense?”

“You actually got to walk through Hell?” Vital gaped at the Pony.

“I guess I didn’t feel her watching over in there, so I guess you didn’t see that part.” Hammer Strike hummed.

“I am not surprised. But one of your … companions gave me the willies,” Pensword quipped.

“Ainz, Lord, Rem and Rom, or Binding?” Hammer Strike asked. “To be fair, Binding would be less on that list if he didn’t do the whole glowing glasses enchantment. Sure, it helps him read in the dark, but it seems to unsettle individuals around him.”

“You mean it makes him look like some evil mastermind?” Vital asked.

“That title goes to others.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “Heck, even I was called that after the whole scale throne deal.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame them at all.”

“And half of those we are going to meet in the present,” Pensword noted. “I’m talking about Lord, though, specifically. He gives me the most willies, but the others less so.”

“Well, he is a literal archdevil, so it makes sense.”

“Ar—” Pensword choked. “Only you would come back with more strength than when you left.”

Derpy smiled and presented her basket. “I baked these especially for you, Hammer Strike. I hope you’re hungry.”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “I appreciate it, Derpy. I’ll have to enjoy them later, as I just ate not too long ago. I’m sure you all are curious about everything. I wouldn’t expect anything different of Twilight back there.” He smirked. “I honestly didn’t anticipate you coming along.”

“Celestia said she couldn’t come. I came in her stead,” Twilight explained. “Though I admit I didn’t expect to see you become the founder of Equestria.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “Fair enough. Though, as I’m sure The Doctor has told you already,  try not to give too much information of the future to Celestia and Luna, all right?”

“I promise,” Twilight swore. “Actually, Grif suggested I go see them to ask their help with a glamour charm. And since I can’t really do magic here….” Her horn fizzled as a few stray sparks popped and then drifted slowly to the floor. “Your defenses are very thorough.”

“I’ve sent a summons for Binding. He should be here shortly. With that, we can create a pseudo contract to allow you all to use your respective magics within Equestria.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Also, yes. I spent countless years developing the defenses of Equestria to every detail I could find.”

“As to be expected.” Grif laughed. “Not like you to be caught unaware for anything.”

“It’s certainly happened more times than I like.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “They came with some side effects, but I’ll live.”

“Any day you wake up on this side, right?”

“Close enough, I suppose.” He gave a faint chuckle. “I see you took care of my coat for me.” He raised his hoof to look at said coat. “Though, some things are new.”

“It’s not still ravenous, is it?” Vital asked nervously.

“I’d certainly hope not.” Hammer Strike raised a brow. “Did something happen on the way here?”

“Not that we’re aware of. I just wanted to be on the safe side,” Vital said. Then he chuckled. “You know how paranoid I can be sometimes. Or is that … simple?”

His expression darkened, and his lips curled slightly. “Star Swirl will call you that, but I suppose it’s a mix of paranoia on top of other things.”

“So, how long is it gonna take you before you can go?” Grif asked.

Hammer Strike frowned as his eyes dimmed. “Rough estimate of … ten days.” His eyes returned to standard brightness less than a second later.

“You got a place for us to stay in here?” Grif asked.

“This castle has many rooms. You’ll each have a place to stay.”

“I’m glad.” Vital Spark smiled. “We missed you, Hammer Strike. It’ll be good to catch up on the things we couldn’t see.”

“I’m quite positive there was plenty, considering you all haven’t aged to two thousand years old.”

“To be fair,” Grif chuckled, “neither have you.”

“To a point,” Hammer Strike replied. “Though it certainly has changed me, as I don’t remember you all being this much smaller than me.”

“Yeah, you have a tendency to do that a lot, I’ve noticed,” Vital said with a smile.

“That is an understatement,” Pensword said.

One flash of light later, a tall Unicorn with flashing glasses stood menacingly under the light cast through one of the many stained glass windows. “You called for me, Hammer Strike?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a few ‘base’ contracts that need to be made,” Hammer Strike replied, gesturing behind him.

“Which clearance: full access, friends of the state, or something in between?”

“Nearly full clearance.”

He turned to observe the new guests and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then smiled. “Very well. Who’s first?”

Vital Spark marvelled at the great stone caverns as the ring of pick and chisel blended with mechanical whirr and thick powerful paws clawing deep into the earth. Unlike the Diamond Dogs of the present, these Diamond Dogs were well-groomed, organized, and vastly intelligent as they crossed through the many tunnels and bridges that had been carved or coaxed into being through various means and machinations.

“To think how all of this was dug over the last millennia.”

“King Hammer Strike has been very good to these canines,” Rem said. As usual, she wore her maid’s outfit. Her mace hung at her side, ready to use at any moment. “Most of their kind are doomed to walk through Hell for their crime and the crimes that the generations have committed since in an attempt to reclaim their lost heritage.” She shook her head sadly. “Give them enough time, and their souls won’t even be worth the effort of harvesting. A terrible waste. And my lord and king both despise waste.”

“That bad?”

“That basic,” she clarified. “They will have a semblance of culture. They will be sapient, capable of speech and interaction with others. But much of the power claimed from a soul comes from the depth of depravity to which the soul can be taken. The more complex and devious the sin, the greater the flavor, and the more potent they are to process or repurpose into something new. Some could become very useful fiends and minions. Others could power spells or provide sustenance. It depends on what the demon chooses to do with it.” She shrugged.

“And what would you do with souls like that?”

Rem shrugged again. “I  would give them to our lord. I am his servant, and I serve him gladly.”

“I wonder. After this, would it be possible for you to give me some more detailed instruction about your kind? I haven’t been able to really study that part of magic yet, and it would be interesting to learn of some of the species of demons and thralls that can be found on your plane.”

Rem quirked a brow. “Curious. You do not despise me and my kind for what we do?”

“Just because I don’t approve of the actions doesn’t mean I can’t get to know the person. If Hammer Strike trusts you, then why shouldn’t I?”

Rem cocked her head as she looked in confusion. “You are a strange Pony, Vital Spark.”

“Is that a yes?”

The mare shrugged. “My sister is the more scholarly of us. You should direct your inquiries to her.” She pulled the Unicorn along and dragged him across a particularly broad stone bridge sparkling with mineral deposits. “Come along. The alpha is waiting for us. We don’t want to be rude.”

Harmony hadn’t just grown under Hammer Strike’s care. She thrived over the years as Unity grew from a small stretch of land to village to town to city to capital. All while under the guiding hoof and loving care of Hammer Strike and his staff. Her trunk had swelled and thickened into a gorgeous prismatic display marked with the symbols of sun and moon, carved as it were, into her very being. Her boughs jutted and curled while crystals draped under certain patches of her branches in mimicry of a weeping willow. Pale rainbows and luminescence lit up the otherwise darkened space as the tree pulsed happily. Harmony materialized instantly, and she smiled softly as the familiar clop of Hammer Strike’s hooves carried him into the space.

“It’s time,” he called out.

“You always knew they would come,” the mare said gently as she approached him. Unlike the Earth Pony, her hooves could make no sound, but her branches jingled to synthesize the ringing of her steps. “And yet, you are sad to go.”

“Of course, but... “ he sighed. “Well, I’m needed.”

“We both are, in our own ways. You know what is to come. You will be there for this kingdom, always when you are needed most. They may not remember you as king, but they will never truly forget you.” She paused, then laid her spectral head against his. “I will never forget you.”

“I’d hope not.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Once I’m back, I’ll find you once more.”

“And I will maintain your vigil over the children,” she promised. “And over Clover.”

“I appreciate that.” He sighed. “It’ll be a long time before I arrive, and I’m sure you will suffer some hardships. But once I return, I’ll work to make things right again. That, and maybe relocate your physical body.”

“Relocate? Is that even possible”

“Yeah, though you may be an embodiment, you have a physical state of a tree. I just have to be careful of your roots.”

Especially since I’m crystal.”

“That part is manageable, thankfully.” He smiled. “I’m sorry, though. Without the tether, your sight may become quite limited.”

“You might be surprised.” She smiled knowingly. “We will remain bound. And if I must wait for your return, I will. But there is enough harmony and order here to sustain me and my vision for some time to come.”

“That’s good.” He nodded. “I do wonder what it will be like to be briefly disconnected, as I will be in the Tardis.”

“I would assume you will feel much the same. Perhaps even stronger, since I no longer have to feed on your power to sustain me.”

“Perhaps, but something you may not realize is that you have had an effect on my mind since the tether first began. I can still recall when we first made this pact, and even now I still feel that strange … calming effect. Similar to an unheard rhythm in constant motion.”

“That is what I am.” She smiled. “I believe you will do well. You have many friends and loved ones to surround you. They will support you for so long as you have the need.”

“We shall see soon enough I suppose.” He gave a soft sigh. “I have more preparations to make. I must be off for now.”

“Be well, Hammer Strike, … Shawn. I … I will wait for you for as long as it takes.” Her projection blushed. 

Hammer Strike gave a small chuckle. “Been awhile since I heard that name.”

Harmony smiled. “You know how we trees are. We can’t afford to forget our roots. And I will never forget yours.”

The Pony smiled as he turned back to the cavern’s tunnel. “You’ll be hearing it in the future. That’s for certain.”

“I look forward to the day.”

Pensword was currently reading a small note card next to a display case that held a feathered cap. It had come from some noble that had tried to be an emissary to another noble house. The cap was all they found of one of Hammer Strike’s emissaries.

The information that he learned drew a furrow of the brow as he moved forward to the next case in the hall. He stepped aside nimbly as a few foals raced around him. It was refreshing to enjoy some anonymity, where he could just be a regular Pony. He was learning so much about Unity, so much that even legends didn’t talk about. Pensword moved farther down the hall, as he was currently reading on the folding of the first destitute Unicorn houses and how they had grown since coming under Unity’s banner.

He froze and stared up at the next portrait. His jaw dropped. There was what had to be something that would make the modern-day Unicorns would flip their lids. He saw a Unicorn as pure as snow, with a mane like spun gold. At his left was a Pegasus mare that had fur and wings as blue as a summer day, with a mane as dark as a thunderstorm. On his right was a Thestral with a mane as white as the moon and fur as dark as the night. Pensword’s ears flicked as those around him passed by, barely giving a glance at the portrait.

“That one was painted by Hammer Strike, himself, as a gift to the family when they joined together.” The Unicorn that stood by Pensword smiled forlornly and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Those were the days. Fancy Coat was an honest stallion, and a fine student of the mystic arts.” He chuckled. “I still remember when Clover nearly blew his hooves off after he couldn’t take the hint to leave her alone.”

Pensword turned his head to look at who had decided to suddenly appear next to him. He hadn’t heard a sound, nor did any of the information other than names appear in the plaque next to the portrait, not even who painted it. “Wha—?” he babbled out

The stallion chuckled. “Surprised, Pensword? Let’s just say I know my way around the city. And given certain unique attributes, you could call me a local historian of sorts.”

“Ah, so you must be a stallion of more than one talent,” Pensword spoke, “From your unique magic to now being a historian? Next thing you’ll be saying that you’re an accomplished writer.”

Well, contracts are my specialty.” Binding Strategy chuckled. “Writing is just a part of the job.”

Pensword chuckled. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain in reading over the contract before signing and agreeing to it.”

“It seems a little much that you would doubt my sincerity when I’m bound to your lord by a far stronger one, but I can understand your desire for caution. I’m told that you were quite the warrior. Or rather that you will yet be in the far-flung future.”

“That is very true. And that means I don’t enter into anything that I don’t understand or have a sure knowledge I can get through the event. But I am happy to hear you are not offended by my need to check for myself.”

“I used to be young, myself, and I know how it feels to have others try to take advantage of you for their own selfish reasons.” He nodded. “I assume you are interested in your own history as well. I don’t know how much Hammer Strike would authorize you to see, but I don’t see the harm of looking at how he united the tribes.”

“I am very much interested in learning about it, to see my history and that of my people.”

Binding smiled. “Then I am at your service. Be careful what you wish for, though, Pensword. You may be surprised by what you find.”

“Binding, The doctor showed me that Hammer Strike is our first High Chief. I highly doubt anything will surprise me any more than that.”

Binding smirked. “Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. Shall we find out?”

“Binding, I’ve seen a lot of things, so I highly doubt that.”

“You’ll see….”

Grif had managed through no small effort to wrestle some valuable alone time with Vital watching Pensword and Twilight. Grif hoped Vital knew what he was in for while he walked into the Gryphon sector of Unity. The compound was less built up than the Bladefeather compound back in the present. Wooden houses of various make-ups were spread almost chaotically around. Most had places on the roof for takeoff and landing. Around him, Gryphons and Hippogriffs went back and forth looking after their daily business. It seemed like there were more Hippogriffs than Gryphons, but Grif hadn’t stopped to confirm it. He wasn’t here for a census. There were questions he needed answered. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Amongst the wooden houses was a single stone one, not necessarily isolated, but with a fair amount of room between it and the next house.

“Some might say it’s just outside of fireball distance.” Grif chuckled to himself as he approached the building. He gave a slow hard knock and waited, hoping the occupant or occupants were at home.

The portal to the house swung open on a clever hinge that, despite the weight it bore, opened without a sound. A pair of golden eyes flashed over a streamlined beak. Black and white feathers speckled with streaks of sooty gray flowed back over the great hawk’s face. He carried neither robe nor sacred ornament. The only thing to tell the Gryphon apart from his fellows was the unique construction of his house and the massive chunk of rose quartz that hung from a chain around his neck. He narrowed his gaze suspiciously at the Gryphon.

“I’m not taking on apprentices,” he growled brusquely.

“And I’m not here to apprentice,” Grif responded levelly as he retained solid eye contact. “I’ve come seeking some information.”

“On?” The Gryphon folded his arms and leaned casually against his doorframe. “Must be something unusual to come to me when we’ve got libraries full to the brim.”

“I’d need to step inside before I can get into that,” Grif said. It was hard enough just to keep up with the conversation thus far. The dialect here was ancient. So old, in fact, that Grif was having to take time to form his words. He pulled out a small sack of gold. “I’ll pay you for your time.”

The evoker narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “I’m no mercenary, cub. If it’s important, I’m willing to listen, but I need a reason to allow you into my home first.”

“Perhaps this will add some weight to my words, then.” Grif reached behind him and unstrapped his bow. He triggered it to unfold and reveal the ruby that had been embedded within it. “I trust you know what this is?”

“An intricate weapon.” He peered closely at the device. “May I?”

“Be my guest.” Grif nodded and passed the bow over.

“Clever hinges,” he noted. “Small, but well crafted. The trigger is easy to grasp, but safeguarded against accidental release.” He smelled the wood. “Oiled and well-kept to preserve against outside forces.” He drew a talon briefly over the drawstring. It sang as he flicked his finger ever so lightly. “And a taut string still waiting to be sprung. Yet, if my eyes do not deceive me, this bow has seen many years of use. An heirloom, perhaps?”

“From my father.” Grif nodded. “Linked to the souls of all his line from it’s creation onward. I’ll offer you my oath on this weapon and the souls connected to it that I mean you neither harm nor fraud. I have questions that need to be answered, and I dare not trust the empire as it is. In return, I will need your oath of secrecy to anything I may tell you.”

“And does this oath extend to our kingdom as well?”

“King Hammer Strike himself will back my oath if you require it, though my time isn’t so large that I can afford the trip,” Grif explained.

In the time Grif had spoken his assurance, the Gryphon had already begun looking over the weapon through the gemstone. “This weapon is old. Very old, indeed,” the evoker murmured. “The sheer number of trace magical signatures over the stone corroborates your story, at least to an extent…” He frowned as he peered closer. Then the pendant fell from his grasp and the bow began to drop with it. Time seemed to slow as, with expert skill, Grif snatched the weapon out of the air before it had the chance to fall even an inch. “My gods,” the evoker rasped hoarsely.

“Inside, please,” Grif said in a quiet tone.

The elder Gryphon was swift to comply. He shut the door hastily behind them. “A moment,” he said quickly. He raced into another room. About a minute later, he emerged bearing a blue quartz pendant embedded with a feather. A dull glow seeped from it, and the same glow flowed in a line over the entirety of the house. “There. We won’t be overheard,” he huffed.

“So, where to begin? I am guessing you have questions of your own now.” Grif sighed. “I won’t lie to you, but please understand there are things I can’t talk about. My name is Grif Bladefeather.”

“Edgar Valeyar,” the evoker returned. “You realize that there may be certain things I also cannot tell you, given the circumstances I suspect that are behind your visit.”

“Are you a Faustian, Edgar? Do you have any connection to the Winds at this point?” Grif asked.

“You ask me that after how I reacted to your weapon?”

Grif nodded. “What I'm going to tell you will sound completely outside the realm of believable, but I would hope my oath would give you the consideration not to doubt me.” Grif took a deep breath. “I’m from the future.”

“And you expect me to be shocked over this?” Edgar deadpanned. “Grif Bladefeather, I saw the threads that tied your ancestors to that ruby, and I know what that ruby is. The rest is rather obvious.”

“No,” Grif admitted as he held up a hand. Wind swirled and curved around it almost lovingly, drawing dust motes and blue sparks from the corners and seams of the room to make the current visible. “I am he who walks the path and brings the change for the coming age. I stand with my feet on the ground and my wings in the air. I am the warrior, the mage, and the priest, the last tether to the great ones who made us who we are. I am the Avatar of Winds.”

“Am I allowed to ask how far into the future you hail from?” Edgar finally said.

“The best answer to that is several thousand years,” Grif told him. “In a few centuries, a catastrophe wipes out most of the records from this era, making just how long is between my time and yours nigh impossible to tell. Much has been lost between our eras. Evokers nearly go extinct for a thousand years. And while we have some of the original notes, time has worn away a lot. Also, if Hippogriffs exist in my time, they are reclusive, which is an issue, as more are going to be born amongst my clan as well as the city in which I reside. One of my wives has the gift, and has taught herself much, but we are, as of yet, unable to sense the gift in any until they’re almost too old to train. I’ll start my questions by asking if there is a way to determine such things early on.”

“That is a difficult and complex topic to address,” Edgar admitted. “In theory, all Gryphons should have the capacity by rights. After all, magic played a heavy role in our creation. I’ve yet to determine the reason why.”

“Did Clover have a way?” Grif asked.

He shook his head. “If there is a way, you’ll have to ask the Winds or their children.”

Grif sighed. He’d expected that. “All right, then. How about we move on to….” And so Grif began what he hoped would become an informative question and answer session.

Hammer Strike sighed to himself. He had sent a message for Celestia, Luna, and Yharon to meet him in his room. They knew him leaving was eventually going to happen, but he doubted they knew it would be this soon.

Celestia was the first to arrive. Philomena had developed nicely over the years, and now cuddled the mare and preened her mane as they strode down the hall. Her mane and tail fluttered with the power that she had worked so hard to learn to master and manipulate. “You called, Father?” the mare asked.

“I’ll discuss things once your sister and brother arrive.” Hammer Strike nodded.

Luna arrived a few minutes later still dressed in her leather armor and panting slightly. “Sorry, Father. I was just returning when I got your summons.”

It took a few minutes more for Yharon to join them, but the Feather Dragon nodded to his sisters, then acknowledged their father. “It’s unusual for you to send for us like this,” he noted. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, the time has finally come.” Hammer Strike sighed. “To put it simply, I am needed elsewhere, and I won’t be returning for quite some time.”

“And how long is that, Father?” Yharon asked.

“Honestly, it’s a rough estimate of two thousand years at the very least.”

“Two thousand?” Celestia balked, and Philomena squawked as a result when her perch was suddenly disrupted.

“To explain it as simply as I can, I’m being returned to my original point in time. I will still be around in times of need, but… it won’t be ‘me,’ per se.”

“And by that, I assume you mean to imply that it will be a different iteration of you, seeing as The Doctor is here,” Yharon said.

“My younger days, I suppose you could say, before my augmentation and subsequent growth, followed by everything else. I’ll always be around when needed, but it’s time some things are restored.” Hammer Strike frowned.

“What will we do?” Luna asked. “Who will take your place?”

“You three will be. I’m sure you’ve noticed how most minor tasks have been automated. The only things that require input are those of major importance, which I’m sure the three of you can resolve.”

“A new council, then.” Yharon frowned. “You’ve been planning this for some time, haven’t you?”

“I knew this day would come eventually.” Hammer Strike nodded. “As I’ve stated, technically, this isn’t where I was supposed to be. The Alicorn Empire had ripped me from where I came from.”

“And now you have to go back….” Celestia’s mane wilted as her ears drooped.

“Yes.” Hammer Strike sighed. “They need me.”

“Will we see you again?” Luna asked.

“Of course, you will.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “I’ll even give you this little spoiler. You will see the beginning of my story.”

“To see the end and then move back to the beginning. A curious position to be in, indeed,” Yharon noted as he scratched his chin with a claw.

“Honestly, it’s been strange to experience it.” Hammer Strike gave a soft chuckle. “You three are practically immortal. Yes, it’ll take time for me to return, but I’ll be back again. Don’t you worry.”

“Have you told the others yet? And the kingdom? How do you plan to tell them?” Celestia asked.

“I’ll be holding a meeting to cover everything and make a speech for the kingdom to understand. I suppose I can have them believe it to be a journey of sorts.”

“Given that it’s The Doctor we’re talking about, that’s not far from the truth,” Yharon noted with a hint of a smile.

“I’ll give you all some information on running things, but for now, how about dinner? We have some guests.”

“Guests?” Luna asked.

“You didn’t get the memo on your journey, did you, Sister?” Yharon chuckled. “The Doctor brought several more … companions with him than is usual. It seems they may be friends of Father’s.”

“Huzzah!” Luna said. “Then it is a feast!”

Yharon couldn’t help but chuckle again. “Is it going to be a feast, Father?”

“Considering how much one of them eats, … yeah.”

“Then I suppose we should prepare.” Celestia nodded. “Was there anything else you needed to tell us before we go, Father?”

“Not at this point in time.”

“While many of these tomes are old, you may find that some of them contain things that our ‘present’ would benefit from,” Hammer Strike commented to Twilight. “Thankfully, most of them are in my head, so we don’t need to take any of these with us.”

“Are you planning on transcribing them, then?”

“A number of them, yes.” Hammer Strike nodded. “You are, of course, free to read through them while you are here.”

Twilight stared at the sheer size of the shelves, the vastness of the library’s contents, and the volume and sizes of the many tomes. “This is … incredible.”

“Roughly one thousand and seven hundred years’ worth of collecting.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “Though not all of it is available, of course.”

“How will I know what I can read and what I can’t?”

“It will either not be here or you won’t be able to take it off the shelf. Try … that one, for example.” He directed toward one of the books on a high shelf.

Twilight’s magic wrapped around the binding immediately. A dull blue aura glowed briefly, and Twilight rubbed her horn as her magic was disrupted by the thaumaturgy. “Well, that’s one way to make sure nobody takes the wrong thing,” she muttered.

“Could be worse. If you tried to steal a book from the restricted sector, it would attempt to destroy whatever it is that’s touching it,” Hammer Strike replied. “Hoof, wing, the horn that’s projecting magic in an attempt to grab it....”

Twilight shuddered. “How many people have you actually caught with that trap?”

“Nobody, sadly.”

“... Sadly?”

“Twilight, allow me to clarify something. Everyone on this planet is afraid of me,” Hammer Strike noted. “There are no real assassination attempts, no nobles fighting for power, nobody trying to steal from me. All of these traps are just … precaution.”

“Should I ask Rarity to arrange some assassins for you when you get back, then?”

“Nah. She doesn’t know how to get the good ones, and Grif wouldn’t be willing to lose more units.”

“Though, speaking of seeking knowledge, there is one thing we saw that sort of … surprised us when we were on the TARDIS. You seemed to know exactly what we would say. And you did say you could feel us when we were watching you. Does that mean that you could hear us, too?”

“Not at all.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “When the TARDIS was watching over my actions, I took into account who I thought was there and figured out their potential responses. The augments currently in my brain process the amount I know you all to determine what is likely to have been said. I didn’t know you would be coming with, so I didn’t account for any responses to you, but I know you well enough to know what you’re likely to say and do before you do them.”

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Twilight sighed. “You’ve been able to read me from the first day we met.”

“I could guess, yes. Now it’s more accurate.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “It’s … interesting, to say the least.”

“And not much fun?” Twilight guessed.

“To be honest Twilight, I’m running out of ‘fun’ things, since I’m going on... “ Hammer Strike frowned. “Jeez, yeah, nearly two thousand years old.”

“How did you manage to stay like this, anyway?”

“A device from the Alicorn Empire, a medical cube meant to rejuvenate individuals within. It … practically tears me apart and puts me back together. That’s at least the best way I can explain it, as it renders me unconscious.”

Twilight winced. “That … sounds less than pleasant.”

“Thankfully, I haven’t been awake during any of it. Though, I’ve run the machine so much that it’s starting to wear down a little.” Hammer Strike sighed. “But I shouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer. Now I should be able to lock it up and hope I can alter my own divine seed to assist in that regard.”

“What exactly is a divine seed?” Twilight asked. “The Doctor tried to explain it to us, but he couldn't really get into specifics.”

Hammer Strike hummed for a moment. “To put it simply, not all gods started their existence as they were. Some were … well, born into it. Many are born with what is called a Divine Seed, a special trace of primal energy that can grow as the individual does. Most tend to burn out and never reach farther than amplifying the user. Others feed it, and it grows until they can, potentially, ascend.

He sighed. “My fury was fed by drawing in power to ‘deal’ with the Dragons. In turn, my own divine seed resonated with my fury and fueled it. I can control it somewhat now, but at the time, I nearly fueled it too much.”

“And that seed is still too charged now?”

“Divine seeds don’t lose power. They redirect it. The only way it can be lessened is for it to be taken, and there isn’t a mortal on this planet that could do it to me. So, I took my time to learn how to direct it, at least, to a minor degree.”

“So, what does that mean for your future? Are you going to ascend to be an Alicorn?”

“I hope not.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “Though, if it was between that and the alternative, I suppose I’d have to take that.”

“I … think I may already know this answer, but, … what’s the alternative?”

“Divinity. A worse alternative, if I had to go by Faust, Slephnir, Bonnie, the Winds, Bahamut and the like.” He chuckled, noting the presence brought by his naming.

“So, what will happen when you perform this redirection?”

“It will assist in whatever I direct it to. Notably intimidation.”

“Intimidation?”

“I could show you,” Hammer Strike offered.

“Will it have any negative effects?”

“You’ll definitely want to be sitting.”

Twilight did so nervously.

Hammer Strike didn’t move. There was no grand display of power or anything, just a sudden overwhelming amount of pressure suddenly appearing over the mare as she looked at him. She was unable to move or speak. Even magic felt out of her reach. It lasted only a few seconds, but they seemed to stretch on forever before, suddenly, it stopped.

Hammer Strike waited a few seconds before raising a brow questioningly, awaiting some response.

“And … how often are you going to have to channel that power like this?” she finally managed to croak.

“Hopefully, not much. Thankfully, I did learn how to direct that, since the last time I accidentally damaged a few of our more sensitive pieces of magical equipment.”

“Well, if nothing else, I suppose it will give the nobles in the Solar Court that much more reason not to try moving against you. That, or it will galvanize them and make them want to stop you all the more.” She chuckled nervously.

“We shall see.” He chuckled in return. “Now, about those books you wanted to look at?”

Twilight smirked. “Are you sure you want to get into that discussion with me?”

“Let’s see if you can keep up.”

“All right, then. Let’s start with….” And so began a very long studying session between the High King of all Unity and the Princess of Friendship.

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he entered the inner circle’s meeting room before sitting at the head of the table. “Well, at least they took that better than expected.”

“They trust you, and they trust your children to take after you,” Binding noted as he strode into the room followed by Ainz. “They will do well, provided they keep to the path you’ve set.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “So, now there are a few things to be discussed between us.” He sighed and rested his forelegs on the table. “Ainz, I think we’ll have to seal the tomb away for the time being.”

“Oh, no. We’ll starve,” Ainz said in a deadpan tone.

“Yes.” Hammer Strike rolled his eyes. “I mean in the sense that you will be entirely locked away from this side of the world, and potentially under a temporal lock.”

“And what of Tarefson?” Binding asked.

“I’ll have to tighten his leash. The tomb couldn’t support him for too long.” Hammer Strike sighed.

“Unfortunately, blood is beyond my power without a living being,” Ainz agreed.

“Are you thinking of siccing him on outlaws and assassins, then?” Binding asked.

“Quite likely, but it’ll take me some time to properly word this leash.” Hammer Strike frowned. “But it will be done. As for you, Binding, I’m honestly not sure what will happen. Celestia and Luna are gathering their own inner circle, so you may be left to your own until my return…”

“To be perfectly frank, Hammer Strike, that’s a risk I’m not willing to take. My divine seed may allow me to live forever with my companions, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be killed. I would rather we leave with you, assuming time will allow it.”

“Dislike the idea of potentially sitting around for a couple thousand years?” Hammer Strike raised a brow before giving a small smirk. “I’ll discuss it with The Doctor, but he won’t be able to refuse.”

“Good. I must admit I’m rather intrigued by the prospect of seeing this science in action.”

“Just try not to prod around. From what I heard, Twilight attempted it, and she found herself in … less than great states. The TARDIS is a living thing, though it may be hard to tell.”

“Sapient?”

“Sentient. She’s quite interesting to have conversations with, though you wouldn’t be able to understand her.”

Binding smiled. “Interesting.”

“I suppose that settles things. Any questions from either of you?”

“When will I know you return?” Ainz asked.

“With the temporal lock. You’ll know when I release it.”

“And I assume you will be the only one capable of breaking it?” Binding asked.

“Well, I can tie it to one of my weapons,” Hammer Strike remarked as he pulled Astral Abyss out. “Trust me, nobody can wield these apart from the gods.”

“Very well. And what shall I keep for you?” Ainz asked.

“Most of my artifacts.” Hammer Strike sighed. “As well as some of my more rare materials.”

“Will I be allowed to carry on my research?”

“Anything within the confines of the tomb, yes.”

“Very well. I’ll be fine.” Ainz nodded.

“Binding?”

“I’ll let Towering Wall and Swift Wings know of our impending departure. Do you have a particular date in mind?”

“Given most of my list is nearly completed, within the week.”

Binding nodded. “Then we’ll be ready.”

“Then that settles everything. I shall leave you both to your preparations.”

“So, … King Hammer Strike?” Grif looked to his old friend and chuckled. They were alone in one of the castle's many unused rooms.

Hammer Strike gave a smirk in return. “Don’t you start that, or I will cancel your contract, just to spite you.”

“Could have been worse. Equestria’s technically an empire,” Grif pointed out.

“Don’t remind me.” Hammer Strike sighed. “It’s bad enough I lost my cabin and got this castle.”

“Well I mean, it’s not like it’s your first castle.” Grif shrugged. “What're your plans when we get back?”

“Honestly? Figure out where everyone and everything went.”

“Yeah, I imagine a lich would be helpful with the way things are going.” Grif nodded.

“I also wonder where Yharon went.” Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he stroked his chin.

“Probably the last place you’d think.” Grif shrugged. “I mean, didn’t one of the reports say something about unusual patterns under Unity?”

“That’s where they found the medical cube.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Speaking of which, I’ll have to ensure I lock it down before I leave.”

“So, been thinking about a lot while we were in the TARDIS,” Grif began. “I think I’ve come to a personal decision.”

“You’re done advancing through Thaumaturgy,” Hammer Strike concluded.

Grif nodded. “I still plan to keep myself where I am, but I don’t think I want to go farther,” Grif admitted. “I worry sometimes I've already gone too far.”

“You haven’t, thankfully.” Hammer Strike glanced over to his friend. “Trust me, you would know if you had gone too far. Besides myself, only one other individual knows what it feels like, and it was only temporary for her.”

“Maybe, but there is more to it than just that,” Grif noted. “I mean, you kill someone. Then they get sent to be judged and all that. But the power to destroy a soul? I worry about having that kind of power, myself.”

“A shame that it is one of the most basic lessons of thaumaturgy.” Hammer Strike sighed. “This power is dangerous. At any level, sadly.”

“And I think I have enough.” Grif nodded. “No hard feelings?”

“I’m glad you found your point to stop.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “Honestly, after everything I’ve seen and been through, I was going to cut you off, anyway.”

Grif chuckled. “Great minds think alike, right?”

“That, or the prediction module’s starting to work too well.”

Grif smirked. “Yeah, you’ll have to figure out how to remove it eventually. You’re cheating enough without that.”

“What, can’t handle the idea that I’ll be able to outthink your movement speed?” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“You really need a prediction module for that?”

“Lets me relax more.”

“Glad to see you’re holding up. Not gonna say okay, because we both know you're not okay.”

“As I once mentioned to Faust; if it weren’t for the systematic slaughter of the Alicorn Empire, I don’t think I would have been half as all right.” He shook his head. “That, and the nearly two thousand years of the equivalent of counseling from an embodiment.”

“Embodiment.” Grif raised an eyebrow. “If it weren’t for the state Equestria is in in the future, you probably would consider not going back.” It wasn’t so much a question as an observation.

“To put it simply, probably.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Grif, though I don’t look it, I’m ancient. I’ve lived so many lifetimes watching the world go by as I try to make everything better for everyone. I’ve got one last task ahead of me. And after this, I can’t do these trips through time anymore. It just … hurts too much.”

“Hurts seeing things happen you know have to happen when you know you can change it?”

“More than that, but, yes.” The lights in Hammer Strike’s eyes dimmed. “Some of the experiences I’ve had in this time period … they certainly weren’t great. Though I did get to feel the creation of Vigilance and Vengeance.”

Grif balked. “You felt it? It was that powerful?”

“Old rites.” Hammer Strike nodded. “The opposite of that, however, was that I felt the Winds being sealed away. I may not be a Gryphon, but that was … unpleasant.”

“Gods being torn away.” Grif shivered. “Not right.”

“Not at all.” Hammer Strike hummed. “Thankfully, they are, and will be, the only ones. And you’ll see to righting that. Beyond that, the others are interesting. Faust was kind, as I figured. Slephnir blesses a lot of warriors. And a Gryphon priest who loves knives too much. And Bonnie … will need assistance later. Bahamut was interesting, since he made a deal with me twice.”

“You’ve certainly made interesting friends,” Grif noted. “And Bonnie would be...?”

“You remember how there were three statues in the Empire? One for Slephnir, and you believed two of them to be of Faust? Not correct. One was Bonnie, whose placement would be kind of the moon, or something.” He shrugged.

“That kind of makes sense, actually, since they always refer to Faust as Sleipnir's daughter.” Grif nodded. “I was beginning to worry about that.”

‘“Oh, I also—” Hammer Strike suddenly snapped his mouth shut. “Nope, can’t mention that one.”

“Well, moving on, I think I know what Sombra’s next move is,” Grif said. “And if I’m right, it’s going to be bad.”

“I’d believe it.” Hammer Strike sighed.

“All that time you spent wiping out vampires and undead that you didn’t control? I think he’s going to attempt to bring it all back.”

“I’m going to need to start applying the mark on weapons once again.” Hammer Strike groaned at the thought of how much time he’d have to dedicate to the task.

“Would that be the mark that's noticeably changed from your usual insignia that you’ve been using a lot?” Grif asked.

“Yeah, turns out it’s a holy symbol. Basically blesses weapons and armor and all that.”

“I’d ask how you found that out, but if you’ve talked to that many gods, I can guess. Still, better than working with silver, from what I hear.”

“Shush. Not another word.” Hammer Strike nearly shuddered. “I may work with Silver for accents and small bits, but I will never forget making that damned pure silver blade. Especially not while these damned augments ensure I can’t forget it.”

“So, you can have the lich hide away for a while, and your pet demon can simply hide away back in Hell until we get back. What are you going to do about the vampire?” Girf asked.

“He’s probably going to have to hang out with Ainz, but I doubt Ainz can supply him enough to survive. So … I might have to lay out some ground rules and tighten the contract a little.”

“You ready to do this all again?” Grif chuckled.

“That’s the plan.” Hammer Strike sighed.

“Hey, at least this time you're not starting completely from scratch.”

Hammer Strike gave Grif a flat stare. “Think on the state of things, and try to say that again.”

“They did dig the unwanted basement for you,” Grif pointed out.

“Keep that up and I’ll enact the fact you’re under blood oath to me. If I take back kingship…” Hammer Strike left the statement hanging.

“It’s good to see you're still sharp as ever.” Grif smiled. “Gods know I couldn’t hold things together.”

“Eh, you’re doing fine enough as is. Push came to shove, I can throw some augment processing power toward your end of things.”

“Ever hit you that you're a cyborg magical Pony who summons fire?” Grif asked.

“Really?” Hammer Strike questioned sarcastically. “I never noticed.”

Grif’s smile widened. “Good to have you back.”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “Sure took your time about it.”

Twilight stared at the masks that lined the shelves of the vendor stall. An Abyssian with fiery fur beamed at the potential customers as he wrung his hands and bobbed almost obsequiously. The light reflecting off his coat made it flash between orange and red. He kept his eyes squinted as he showed off his wares, though hints of red occasionally would flash when the light caught his face just right.

“I take great pride in my masks. I travel far and wide to collect them. For example, I have here an Oni mask from the far east lands of Neighpon. Only the finest materials used to embody the powerful fighting spirit of this legendary creature.”

“You don’t happen to have a spikey, strangely-colored mask from times untold about with a malevolent spirit and untold dark magic, do you?” Grif asked cautiously.

Hammer Strike glanced to the trader flatly.

“No, but such a mask does sound like a unique acquisition…” the salesman mused. “Could either of you fine gentlemen tell me where you saw it last?”

“You don’t have enough money,” Grif responded.

“Ah, but what of information?” The cat’s eyes glinted with cunning as his smile broadened. “Knowledge is power, after all. Is that not so, my fine Gryphon friend?”

“And power and knowledge, I have.” Grif wing-shrugged. “To barter, you need an advantage.”

“It would be best for us to depart for now,” Hammer Strike commented before turning to the salesman. “I shall be by later.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” The salesman beamed. “Before you go, a gift for the lady.” He passed a mask with beautiful blue feathers with hints of white and a long beak. “The legendary cryophoenix is said to be a beautiful sight to behold, though it is rarely seen for its potential at first. Give it the right circumstances, however, and it will surprise you. I would not be surprised to see such surprises in your future.”

“Um, … thanks?” Twilight cocked her head in confusion, but accepted the gift.

“Until next time, m’lady.” The Abyssnian bowed low, and one could just make out the massive travelling pack leaning against his stall entrance.

After they were some distance away Hammer Strike sighed. “Thankfully, the truly dangerous masks are, shall we say, dealt with.”

“Good,” Grif said. “I supposed I should have expected that.”

“Just how many dangerous magical artifacts have you collected?” Twilight asked.

Hammer Strike hummed for a second. “How many shops are there in Unity again?”

“Old or new?” Grif asked.

“Current.”

Grif gave Hammer Strike a blank stare.

“Roughly one thousand three hundred and forty-eight artifacts,” Hammer Strike finally answered.

“That’s … a lot of magic,” Twilight finally responded.

“And at least thirty five percent of them will explode upon being used.”

“Plague, corruption, or something else?”

“Yes. To all of those,” Hammer Strike remarked. “Anyway, how about a trip to a local bakery? They’ve got recipes that have been in their family for generations.”

“Better than the Cakes’?” Twilight asked disbelievingly.

“Well, you’ll have to judge that part. I haven’t had anything of theirs for awhile.”

“Hard to believe Equestria was once this accepting,” Grif said. Looking around, he eyed a Hippogriff. “This is everything we’ve been working for in New Unity.”

“Took some time, but it’s been interesting to see.” Hammer Strike nodded. “It’ll take a long time before something like this will happen again. Though, I hope to speed it along to within everyone’s lifetime.”

“I hope to see it,” Grif said. “Winds know if I could get my people even to this level again.”

“To think, those that initially came here were here due to being outcasts.”

“Most Gryphons anyone interacts with are outcasts,” Grif noted. “We don’t have enough respect for ourselves to try and elevate those in need.”

“That’s a sad statement,” Twilight said. “Won’t Daedalus and the others in power try to change that?”

“You think Daedalus is the first benevolent emperor we’ve had? Change doesn’t happen easily. Sometimes, you have to drag the world kicking and screaming.” Grif shrugged. “You're going to be a leader, so remember that lesson. Drag the world, if you need to. Don’t be afraid to smack it around to soften it up.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

“Then get used to being walked over,” Hammer Strike remarked.

Twilight was … surprisingly silent as they travelled through the rest of the city until they reached the bakery.

“Hey, Sourdough, anything they want is on me,” Hammer Strike remarked as they entered.

The pale stallion nodded as he puffed his lips and his horn ignited. Letters bubbled with his magic. What can I get for you?

“What’s the best seller?” Twilight asked.

Pineapple upside-down cake.

“I’ll try that one, then.”

Sourdough smiled and nodded, then turned his attention to Grif. And you, Sir?

“Whatever the baker suggests,” Grif said. “Generally, people don’t know as well as the baker.”

The baker smiled and produced a maple candied bacon donut for the Gryphon and the mini cake for Twilight. He levitated the plates to the customers and smiled. Then he turned his attention to Hammer Strike. Will you be having your usual?

Hammer Strike shook his head. “Got anything new on the menu?”

The Unicorn rubbed his chin in thought, then levitated a long piece of circular dough that had been carefully fried and dusted liberally with cinnamon and sugar. A small container of whipped cream was included with the order for dipping. Not sure what to call it yet.

Hammer Strike gave a small grin and nodded before reaching into his coat and pulling out several gold tablets, then placed them on the counter. “Keep whatever’s spare.”

The Unicorn nodded. I’ll add it to your credit balance. Enjoy your meal! If you need anything else, just call me over.

“Will do.” Hammer Strike sighed contently. “I don’t get to come here often.”

“How come?” Twilight asked as they found a table. “Too many responsibilities?”

“That, on top of other things.” He nodded.

“Like…?”

“I have a wait staff who aim to impress.”

“And you don’t want to disappoint them?” she guessed as she levitated the cake and took a bite.

“Exactly.”

“I imagine it also is hard to get snacks that aren't poison flavored from time to time?” Grif smirked.

“They can detect poisons and such with utmost perfection, so that’s not a thing anymore.”

“Aren’t you immune to most poisons, anyway?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. Which is another reason they stopped.”

“Did you ever give them a taste of their own medicine?”

“Those who tried to poison me? Yes, but I started killing too many individuals in power in other countries.”

“Not worried they’ll try something when you're gone?” Grif asked as he took a bite of his donut. The bacon snapped and crunched just right with the candied coating as the salt for the bacon mingled with the maple.

“I’ve kept the poison detection in play, so it’s nearly impossible to get anything through. And when something does, we have most antidotes for them as well beyond detection.”

“Have you had any other contact with Changelings since that incident at the gate?” Twilight asked curiously.

“Yes and no. None of their hive, since their hunters were unable to enter. Beyond that, I have had contact with one. I’ll refrain from saying much else.”

Twilight nodded. “I thought you might. You know, it’s funny, seeing Luna and Celestia like this. I mean, they’re my friends, one of them was my teacher, and yet neither of them really knows me here. I see the mares they’ll become, but I also see something … different, I guess. Is this what it’s always like when you time travel?”

“On the lighter side of things, yes.” Hammer Strike nodded. “There’s more, and some of it isn’t grand, but that is one part of it.”

Time passed, and true to Hammer Strike’s warning on the friends’ arrival, Grif devoured almost everything he could get his talons on. Within reason, but he still cleared a lot of the baker’s stock. The baker stared with wide eyes at the sheer amount the warrior had consumed, then hastily began to mix up new batches of product for the day.

“So, what’s next on the tour, Hammer Strike?” Twilight asked.

“Plenty to see in the market,” Hammer Strike offered.

“More than we already have?”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “Trust me, you’ve only seen a quarter of it at best.”

“Then I suppose we should get back to it. There’s plenty more for me to learn before we go back.” Twilight looked to Grif, then back to Hammer Strike. “That is, assuming you’re both ready.”

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he looked towards the device he had been using to prolong his life. He frowned, looking it over one last time before pulling his sleeve back to reveal the familiar transmutative amulet.

“Thankfully, Hell established this would be fine…” he muttered to himself as he turned the gem. As before, a flash of light burst forth and he found himself standing on two legs, notably having to crouch slightly to avoid bumping the roof above.

The outside terminal had several prompts over it as he established a lock on the device before pressing his hand against the scanner. After a few moments, he heard several clicks and a few louder clangs come from the machine as it powered down and settled itself into emergency mode.

“You’ll potentially be useful in the future, so you’ll just have to wait.” He gave a small grin before turning the gem once more, reverting to his equine form.

Rolling his shoulders, he tested the lock by pressing his hoof into the scanner, only for it to give a brief flash of red, signifying that his hoof print wouldn’t open it. He of course had verbal backups, just in case, and beyond that, physical strength to crack it open.

Then he sighed. “It’s time.”

Several days later and the group was waiting in front of the TARDIS as The Doctor worked the controls. The group waited as Hammer Strike took in the view of Old Unity one last time. “You gonna miss it?” Grif asked.

“Yeah.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “But, we’ll make it better.”

Grif nodded. “Take your time,” he commented before turning and entering the ship.

Hammer Strike gave a soft sigh at the sight that greeted him on the walls. Celestia, Luna, Yharon, and the remainder of the council that hadn’t been sealed away watched on and waved. He was grateful not to see the tears he doubtless knew were waiting behind those eyes. He allowed himself one final wave, a last salute to the city that he had put so many lifetimes into building. When he returned to it again, it would be but a shadow of its former self. Growing, but far from the thriving metropolis he had come to love. Finally, he forced himself to turn away and stepped into the TARDIS. The doors creaked shut behind him, and the lock turned of its own accord. “TARDIS,” he said tiredly, “no detours, please.”

“Is everybody settled, then?” The Doctor asked as he looked around the room. Binding was examining the walls and the many round indents that dotted the structure. Wall and Swift both had decided to search through other parts of the vessel’s control room for the sake of understanding the layout. The others simply looked to Hammer Strike while Derpy hummed and smiled next to her mate.

“Looks that way, Doctor,” Vital Spark said. “I think we’re ready to go home.”

As The Doctor prepared to send them off, Hammer Strike flipped a lever before nodding to himself. “It’s time to go.”

“All right! And we’re off!” The Doctor grinned as the TARDIS’ console came to life and began to pump as it always did. However, unlike past times, the familiar creaking groan that accompanied the ship’s materialization and dematerialization had completely disappeared. The Doctor frowned. “Well, that’s odd….”

“You’re not about to tell us something’s broken, are you?” Vital Spark asked.

“The sounds are different….” Pensword paused looking at Hammer Strike. “Did you take the brake off?”

“Yep,” Hammer Strike confirmed. “Was giving her a break.”

“That is good to know, and thank you, m’lady.” He patted the railing he was near. “I checked with The Doctor on my supplies.” He looked at Twilight. “As well as our resident Princess. I’d rather not cause any paradoxes or problems. After all, we have the TARDIS that can tell us if the item is good or bad to bring back.” He chuckled. “I’d rather have the lady that can see in five dimensions make the final call on that.”

“Careful, Pensword. You don’t want to insult her. I’m sure she can see a lot more than that.” Vital chuckled.

The Doctor looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. His eye twitched as he grit his teeth and whipped his gaze between Hammer Strike and the console.

“It’ll be back on after we return.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Unless she’s willing to just make the noise rather than deal with a stuck brake.”

The TARDIS beeped several times, followed by a recording that emanated from her speakers to sound very much like the parking brake.

“Still not the same,” the Timelord sulked.

Derpy smiled and patted him on the back. “There there.”

“Uh, guys, I think we landed.” Vital Spark pointed to the console. “That, or the TARDIS is broken again.”

“She’s fine. Only thing broken is the chameleon circuit,” Hammer Strike replied as he moved toward the doors. “We have landed.”

The doors flung open to reveal Celestia and Luna both staring in surprise. Their mouths dropped open at the sight of a Pony they had not seen, truly seen, in millennia. Celestia gasped as her eyes began to water. Luna was not nearly so subtle. She barrelled into the Pony and wrapped her hooves around his neck with all the force she could muster.

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh as he returned the embrace. “Why, you act as though you haven’t seen me in millennia. I’m sure ‘I’ just departed from Canterlot within the last … two weeks?”

“Shut up,” Luna said, actually crying as she hugged him. “You know how long it’s been for us.”

Hammer Strike’s grin softened as he looked to Celestia, releasing one hoof to invite her into the hug. “Indeed. I’ll refrain from jokes for now.”

Celestia approached more sedately. “Just don’t promise to drop the sarcasm. Do that, and we’ll think you’re a Changeling.” She smiled softly as she joined the embrace and wrapped her wings around him.

“Please, they wish they could replicate me.”

“Now that’s just adorable,” Vital Spark said.

“They certainly don’t seem to have changed that much,” Binding said with a hint of a smirk.

“They’re his daughters, Binding. Of course they’re not going to change how they greet him,” Wall said. “Even I know that.”

Pensword stood there and watched their actions. “It still feels odd seeing them act this way.”

“Come now.” Hammer Strike smiled. “Let’s allow The Doctor his leave. Oh, and before we depart.” He pointed toward the console. “Third lever on the left, the one next to the blue one. That’s the parking brake.”

“Can I flip it?” Pensword asked with a chirp, waving a wing.

“No.” The Doctor stared flatly at the Thestral. But you can get out so Derpy and I can get back to our outing. It’s going to be tight enough as it is catching the last Silverite Fall of Argost Three now. Shoo! Shoo!” He waved with his hooves.

The passengers quickly disembarked. Pensword hauled his trove while Twilight carried hers in her magic. Hammer Strike had already placed his books into a pocket space with his thaumaturgy, so he could unload them at a later date. The sun was still shining. The birds sang. All seemed to be perfectly at peace in the world as The Doctor took one last look on the deck, then flung the doors shut. The TARDIS whirred as it always did, and the great ship was gone again on its next great adventure.

“Home again, home again, jiggity jig,” Vital Spark quipped as he sighed happily.

“I feel like I know that from somewhere,” Pensword said.

“Hate to break up the reunion but can you do it in the pressurized area?” Grif asked. “I need to get to Unity ASAP.”

Hammer Strike smiled to Celestia and Luna. “I’ll return to Canterlot shortly. I have many things to check on. So, unless you want to come with, we must depart for a brief time.”

“Sadly, we have duties here, too. Or at least I do. If Luna wishes to return with you, I can't very well stop her.” Celestia chuckled ruefully. “The burdens of the crown.”

“I’ll return with you, sister,” Luna said as she released her father. “But you will return to us, right?” she asked the Earth Pony.

“Of course.” He smiled. “I mean, I have plenty of questions to ask. One of which being where your brother went.”

Celestia took a moment to blink in surprise. She met her sister’s gaze briefly as they shared a glance, then looked back to Hammer Strike. “Our … brother?”