Trottingham
Take what is ours..
Liogella is the jewel of the Outer Beyond. A shining beacon of radiant light, love and more importantly - magic. The planet is dotted with hundreds if not thousands of unique species, with their own thriving cultures and locales. Yet, as every gem is, Liogella is marred by its imperfections.
Few know the true scale of Liogella. This is in no small part due to the rolling waves of magic that ever so slightly distort land and travel. Thus, those who find themselves on intercontinental travel paths, struck by these waves - find themselves in unintended locations or locations not quite on a map. Consequently, land travel is preferred when possible, and the true scale of Liogella is - unknown. A guestimate, at best.
Discord's damage to the world runs deep. History, essentially fractured - cultures isolated, knowledge missing. As such, the Deer's history is not quite known - even to themselves.
They are an old species, that much is known. Their legends show pink skies, laughing shadows, swarms of darkness. They make their home far to the east - dotted in Sugar Maple Grove by the Himallamas, speckled throughout the Desolate Wild, Trotting Terrains - and there are even rumours of a city of deer known as Shanghay.
The point of this little aside - is that no one quite knows how so many deer inhabit Trottingham.
Trottingham - the Home of the People, was one of the earliest cities founded Post-Discord. However, as the efforts to repair the world went on, what was initially a small market located at the very edge of Gryphon and Equestrian territory grew into a sprawling castle - and from the castle, Equestria's centre of trade and export.
The Lord Trottingham oversees the city - from the rich lumber from their enchanted forest to the silver below their hooves that they mine with the help of the enigmatic deer folk. But, most importantly, he oversees the connections to the rest of the world - it is from Trottingham that trade with the dragons, gryphons, and even the Reindeer, Panthers, and Abyssinians.
The Lord Trottingham isn't a title passed down through blood, as might be expected from the title Lord. No - they're chosen democratically in a process that the Diarchy themselves oversee.
A joint taur-equine agency, known as Equestria's Engineers, made a list of fourteen of the wonders of the world. Civil engineering achievements as well as social. Trottingham market was one of them - a busy, bustling place dotted with laconic deerfolk, enigmatic kirin, mystical panthers, playful Abyssinians and an unsurprising abundance of ponies and gryphons.
Every formal town or city in Equestria had to send three forms to Canterlot. One, to BOWA. Another to the Master-Commander. And a third, to the Diarchs. It was these forms that brought them within the jurisdiction of BOWA's weather management - preventing them from droughts and the rolling clouds of "unnatural" (really, truly natural) weather that rolled in from the North or down south from the Everfree. Furthermore, the Diarchs signature was necessary to recognize the legitimacy of the establishment.
The second, to the Master-Commander: was potentially the most important. Equestria's military presence was greatly diminished from times past - for who would dare to attack the rulers of the Heavens, Hearts, and even Magic itself? But it was not - nonexistent/ Celestia herself had appointed a pegasus stallion called Cloud Charge as the Master-Commander for the last thirty-three years - and it was he who was the high overseer of all military operations of the nation. From gathering intelligence, homeland defence, the training of the royal guard, the establishment of highly skilled operative teams, and lastly, the formally informal military of Equestria.
Equestria's military was more of a militia. Those eligible and willing trained for a call to arms they prayed would never come - but were ready at a moments notice. The Guard, the Commonfolk - in the event of an attack on Equestria, it would not go undefended.
Police were a thing in Equestria as well. Each town had to have at least one establishment for the police force - but the police came in second to the Royal Guard, who in turn came third to the Celestial Guard - the highly trained, personal force of both Celestia and Luna themselves. The result meant that each town and city was guarded by a mixture of its own inhabitants, a standing police force, as well as a small troop of Royal Guards centred around locations of political importance.
Compare this to the Gryphon Empire. Empire was a strong word, but that was what the nation officially called them. While massively smaller than Equestria - every single member of its nation, young or old, was a trained fighter - with nearly 30% of the nation being ready for military action. Trained with all forms of weapons and armed with flight, razor-sharp talons, and light weather manipulation. It's worth noting that a pegasus will always be able to manipulate weather better than a gryphon can - but gryphons can interact with clouds and have an innate affinity for magic of the Storm and Air - not that many gryphon mages exist nowadays.
They certainly had the numbers disadvantage. As Redclaw - although, considering that Redclaw had very much had his head burst, it might be more accurate to call him Not-Redclaw, lead a troop of soldiers 10,000 strong from Griffonstone to the Griffonstone Station - before preparing for a flight to Trottingham, they were planning on marching on a city over 150,000 in numbers.
Under the cover of night, they flew. They went as far as land could carry them - before taking off into the air. A verifiable swarm of gryphon soldiers swooping down towards Trottingham - talons glistening with malintent, as a fearsome battle cry shook the land as it echoed through the very night itself.
"TAKE WHAT IS OURS!"
"LEAVE THEM WITH NOTHING!"
Then, the screaming began.
Tempest was woken up by moonlight, softly glimmering over her eyes. She was surprised at this - and you would be too if you lived in a cave.
She was significantly more confused when she felt a light sting in the side of her scales. Then, finally, her eyes snapped open - to see Luna, in all her radiant glory, standing with her ethereal mane billowing - and her horn smoking with the tell-tale sign of a magical blast.
"Finally." Luna rolled her eyes. "I was beginning to wonder if I had to bring the whole cavern down to wake you up."
"I would appreciate my home remaining intact." Tempest managed softly as she blinked the bleariness of sleep from herself and stretched out like a cat. "Hello, Luna."
"Luna? Not Lulu, Tempie?" She grinned a victorious grin. Tempest flopped over onto her side and let out an undignified huff.
"Why are you here?" Tempest asked. There was a momentary pause.
"Am I not allowed to simply visit? I have no ulterior motives. I simply -" She paused for a second. "...It has been millennia, Tempest. I - I wished-"
"Luna." Tempest said softly and suddenly as she closed the distance between them, her nose pressing into her chest. "You are welcome to visit."
Luna turned her head to the side. "Apologies. I - have been rather...emotional, as of late."
"I see nothing to apologize for in that."
"A diarch is expected to carry herself with a certain level of respect."
"As Celestia does." Tempest tilted her head to the side.
Luna glanced to the side. "Yes. As my sister does." She said softly.
"Why did you come here, Luna?" Tempest shifted and coiled around the alicorn - scales pressing against fur and the drakon's gigantic eyes filling Luna's sight. Luna leaned against her scales and let out a soft sigh.
"I love my sister. I truly, truly do - she is my one constant, my companion. I always know that - she is there. But - when it comes to matters of emotion, she can be..." She thought for a second. "The worst."
Tempest snorted.
"She hears what you say, but doesn't listen. She speaks with you, but she treats everything so - politically. Double-layered words, a veritable minefield of words and traps. It's - insufferable."
"So this is a matter of emotion, then?"
"Hm. In a sense, I suppose." She sighed. "I - my darling niece - is much better with emotion."
"I've never met her - but as the Spirit of Love, I would be surprised if she was not."
"Yet - she is a distance away, even for one such as I. And - there comes a certain...lukewarmness, with her. She has not been tempered by battle as Celestia and I were - nor was she a magical prodigy of such degree that she would've ascended to divinity purely on her own right. Not that she is anything short of amazing- forbid me, if I suggest as such."
"You certainly seem to be suggesting as such."
"I love my niece, Tempest. But she has not been through what I have. Nor has Twilight - although, it is...hard, to find myself to fault our littlest sister. She redeemed me from myself. I can't look at her and see anything but - but that. The wonderful, infallible mare that tore my soul from darkness - who fought against impossible foes and wielded impossible magic. No - I have no confidants."
"Hm. What of Discord?"
Luna snorted. "T'were anyone else - and if I had the capability, you would be hung for treason for such a jest."
"It was not entirely in jest, Luna."
"Then let me still your mind, and put an end to that thought with - no. Celestia, Twilight, and Cadance may be forgiving - but I am not quite so. I look at him, and still see the monster that - tore...you, from the world."
"Yet, the world does not look at you as Nightmare Moon."
Luna stood up and glared. "An unfair comparison. The parasite-" Luna paused for a second. She shut her eyes. "I - no. That will be the end of this tangent of conversation. I will have no more of it."
"I did not mean to upset you, Luna." Tempest said softly. She lightly whapped Luna's side with the side of her body.
"And yet, you managed. The world is cruel."
"Then allow me to change the subject of conversation. Why have you come here?"
"Why - why have I come here?" Luna arched an eyebrow. "You were - family. Our time together was woefully short, but - love forged in war is quite strong. Celestia and you have come to your own understanding - that you are friends, and hope that you may be more - but to me, Tempest, you have always been family. I never stopped searching for you."
Tempest's voice was softer now. "I am touched, Luna. I am. But you avoided the question."
"I come here - for a matter of the heart. I am not Infallible Twilight, Perfect Celestia, or Kind Cadence. My soul is one displaced - t'was only recently I fully adapted to the common tongue, and even then, I slip occasionally. I am a creature of war in a time of peace. My hooves are idle, my warrior spirit chained and leashed - and it does not suit me. So - I come to the only creature alive who could possibly know what it means. You were a warrior, Tempest. Maybe I did not see it then - but you were fearsome and you fought hard. You protected your heart. And yet - here we are. The two of us, with no foe to protect our heart from."
"You are upset because there are no threats?"
"No!" Luna growled. "My sister said much the same. To misconstrue what I spoke in such a manner - intentional. You put words in my mouth, Tempest, and you will see to it that you do not again."
"I am aware of the truth of your meaning, Luna. You merely speak more truly in anger."
"Hmph!" Luna let out an indignant huff then tilted her head up.
"I am - upset," Luna grunted, "that I have no purpose. I am not a ruler, as Celestia or Cadence is. I am not a warrior of the new age as Twilight is - who solves her problems with kindness, forgiveness. I am a warrior of the old age, and this time does not befit me. In ages past - when my blood ran hot with anger, I merely took up Cleddwyr - my hammer, and defended my nation. My sister has always been the shield, and I the sword - but what is a sword without a target, but a risk to stumble and fall onto?" Luna sat down and let out a soft sigh.
"I am - thankful. No, ecstatic that this is a world of peace. A world without caribou slavers, tyrant kings, dragon and gryphon invasions is a good world - but I am not fit for it. I am the problem, not the world. And I struggle with it."
"Do you spar, Luna?"
"What is the relevance?" Luna arched an eyebrow.
"You might be in need of a physical outlet." Tempest shrugged.
"Of course." Luna rolled her eyes. "Daily, with my night guard."
"Your night guard. Mortals?"
"Yes. It is not an even match, yet I have little choice. My sister will not spar with me - for her power is destructive, dangerous, and she is busy. My niece and littlest sister are not quite - tempered, as I am - and Discord outclasses me by an order of magnitude."
"There is me."
"You would spar with me? Truly?" Luna's eyes widened.
"Yes. Twilight has already asked me to train her - her power is great, greater than mine, but she struggles with its use. I would have no problem taking up another student." Tempest smiled softly at Luna.
"Student. I resent that. I was Master-Commander once, fossil." Luna stuck her tongue out. Luna's mirth faded slightly, her gaze tilting down as she let out a soft sigh. "'Tis only the surface level of the issue. An outlet does not cut away the cause. It is a bandage, not a stitch."
"We are fundamentally different, my dear Lulu." Tempest said softly as she wrapped a wing around her tightly. "I am a solitary creature of deep slumber and a little adventure. I cannot offer you a true fix. Yet - the world has changed much, in my absence, as it has in yours. Have you taken the time to explore it?"
"There is not much to explore. The world has been discovered."
"There is a difference between discovered and experienced, darling moon."
"You suggest I walk as the mortals do?"
"You fly above the world. Some walking might do you good." Tempest felt a prickling on the back of her neck.
"...Would you come with me, darling storm?" Luna mimicked.
"Luna." Tempest said in a low tone.
"You cal-"
"No, Luna." Tempest stood up. "Something is - wrong. There is...disharmony."
Luna stood up moments after her. "Is there not always disharmony?"
"Yes - as rain drops. This is - more. Thunder." Tempest brought herself up to her full size, her wings beginning to form. "Battle. In Equestria."
Luna's eyes widened. "Where?" She half-whispered, half-hissed.
Tempest wrapped the two of them in her wings. The air bubbled and trembled as a massive amount of it was displaced in a thunderclap as the great white drakoness and the lunar alicorn formed in the clouds - far above Trottingham.
No - not clouds. Smoke. The city was burning. Luna's pegasus nose could smell the ferric scent of blood, while Tempest's eyes could make out finer details - a swarm of raging, tearing, snapping and biting gryphons. Spilt blood, broken flesh - chained dragons, orphaned children.
Harmony wept. A cacophony of voices rang out - and without words, Luna and Tempest knew what they had to do.
---
It was bloodshed.
There was no resistance. Those that had been magically gifted or winged were struck first - wings torn from their body in messy displays, horns shattered. Dragons were chained and muzzled - before blinded with spears. Their eyes did not have the same durability as their scales - and while there was no way to reach the brain through them, they were a weak spot nonetheless.
Some battlefields were art. This was not art - this was cruelty. Children, foals, young, old - man, woman. None were spared. Gutted like fish - feasted on by the particularly ravenous, as they seemed almost whipped up into a bloody frenzy. The gryphons fought like a creature possessed - the air seeming to trail behind their slashing talons as they sunk into flesh, painted red.
The only noise apart from the screams - the crackling fires that they had lit, was their war cry.
"TAKE WHAT IS OURS!"
"LEAVE THEM WITH NOTHING!"
Luna was a creature of passion. An artist, a muse, a poet - yet, her passion for battle rang foremost among them. But this was no battle. This was - slaughter.
She had been known as many things. The Morrigan. Breaker of Chains, although that title more rightfully belonged to Tempest - it had not been her who had broken the Chained Forest, after all. She had a thousand titles, a thousand names, to a thousand cultures - to the point where the midnight alicorn was a symbol. A symbol of battle.
Celestia's armour was known as the Celestial Plate. It had not been seen in centuries - for there had been no need of it. But Celestia was not a creature of violence - the armour was one of defence and regality. A display, not a tool.
The Lunarian Crest was both. Forged by Luna herself from moonsilver: armour that had not seen the light of day since ages past. Her hair bound back in a ponytail, curled "horns" rising from her skull as the helmet connected to her chest. Her horn was decorated with a small tiara-shaped crest at its base and a sharp blade at its front. Yet her hooves, chest, and flank were all bound in a full set of heavy armour - one that no mortal earth pony could lift. The endings of her hooves were covered in sharp spikes - no. This was not the Celestial Plate. This was a tool of destruction.
Cleddwyr was a weapon of legend. One of the Four Great Weapons - they were an old thing. As old as Life herself, if not even older. It is a long, ornate ebony shaft made of strange material - with Luna's cutie mark is engraved on its side in gold. Gold spiralled up to the base of the head, where the gigantic thing sat - the size of Luna's torso and too unwieldy to be used by anything that wasn't a Spirit. Slightly curved, with long strips of metal jutting out of its faces that were in turn dotted by light studs. It was a Warhammer.
Cleddwyr had many names. Mjolnir. Ukonvasara. The Hammer of Hephaestus. Nadir. Azimuth. But Cleddwyr was its truest name - and it was the name that Luna used for it.
Fear. Intimidation. Make a display. The telepathy spell was long-forgotten: and would likely be illegal if known. Neither particularly cared.
Agreed.
A pillar of moonlight struck down from the sky. Wings of shadow spread - midnight hooves cloaked in curling, trembling shade - and viscerally, viscous and vicious bubbling magic oozed from her horn that was more a spear than a blade. She was every bit as tall as her sister - light fangs jutting from her lips, power coursing from her body.
Every syllable was infused with power. The world itself quaked underneath her voice - not the Royal Canterlot Voice, but the voice of a goddess, unrestrained and provoked. Her hooves planted down as Cleddwyr spun around her, trailing a light blue aura behind it.
"Those that have not spilled blood, may leave. Those that have - lay down your weapons, and you will be granted a swift death." Luna's voice was absolute. It was fact; it was statement. She barely contained her rage as the ground cracked underneath her hooves - her hooves grinding down into the floor.
To the credit of the gryphons, only a few hundred left. To the credit of the gryphon - only a few dozen soiled themselves.
Seconds hung like hours.
Fear. Intimidation. Make a display.
Agreed.
The air became deathly still and silent, even as the storm coalesced above. Rain began to fall - the water began to ripple.
Then, a tremor. Then, another. And another - and another, and another - until Tempest rose from the sea. Visible amidst the void of night, illuminated by moonlight that Luna had manoeuvred to strike her scales - and so they glowed with a luminescent iridescence. Crystals lined her form - the edges of her claws with harmonic crystals. A tiara of jagged crystals around both of her antlers and two sharp crystalline horns that curled backwards through the air. A sharp crystal blade embellished her tail - and crystals that pulsed with harmonic magic lined her spine.
A draconic did not have much use for armour. The only thing that could pierce their scales - apart from an abundance of magic was another draconic. Tempest's armour served two purposes - as a store of excess of magic and a display of intimidation. What's more frightening than a drakon the size of a mountain? A drakon, with wings made out of thunderstorms and covered in crystalline armour.
She planted her hands on the shore, as she had done so many times before. The trees parted underneath her. She tilted her head up to the sky - as the one drakon, the last drakon, roared. A beam of light tore up from her mouth, the bubbling clouds parting - thundercracks echoing, lightning broiling in Her sky. The ground trembled underneath the power that oozed from her.
To the gryphon's credit, only a thousand more left. To the gryphon's credit - only a hundred more soiled themselves.
"You have made your choice," the Alicorn of Midnight spoke.
"So take your consequences," the Drakon of Storms roared.
Tempest attracted the brunt of the attention. They were more like pests than opponents. They swatted at her indestructible scales - and to keep their attention, she had to pretend as if their paltry weapons did anything more than tickle when they struck the weakest parts of her flesh. Even her eyes, the most vulnerable part of her body - were far beyond anything that the army could manage. They would need a ballista to penetrate the humour of her eyes, and they would need something far beyond that to so much as scratch her scales.
Lightning coursed from her antlers as plasma tore from her mouth. Her claws were alight with a blaze as she swiped haphazardly at the air - intentionally acting feral, moving slow and pretending to move slower as their bolts struck. The whole plan relied on Luna - she was just a distraction, and would only remain a distraction as long as she was in equal parts dangerous, distracting, yet - conquerable.
It did not, however, stop her from doing her part to help. Her claws struck true occasionally - tearing through flesh, plasma striking at large concentrated groups to split them up, lightning bolts striking stray, fleeing gryphons that smelled of blood.
Tempest's use was twofold- as a distraction first and a combatant second. The Storm she was brewing was meant to limit the aerial mobility of the gryphons - for it would not hurt Luna, where it would target the gryphons. She was fear, intimidation, a display. Luna was the primary combatant.
She wove through their forces with inequine grace - with divine grace. She spun and curled on the ground as Cleddwyr turned the battleground into a butchery. Her magic lashed out - waves of vicious dark magic that ate flesh and ignored armour. There were two types of corpses - those that fell to the ground, burned alive in their armour...and those that crumbled into piles of flesh as Cleddwyr struck against their skull with a resounding thunk.
Every part of her was a weapon. Her telekinetic weapon blocked just as much as it attacked - constantly on the move as her hooves stomped and punched with such force that it disintegrated flesh and broke the stone below. Three gryphons charged at Luna simultaneously - one was struck with such force that his eyeballs came flying out of his head, long before the rest of him. Another was met with Luna's horn blade - slicing from their heart to their throat, their innards spilling out onto the ground with a sickening smell. The third got close- dangerously so.
Spirits were immortal, not indestructible. Luna or Celestia could be killed by a mortal weapon hypothetically - assuming it was strong enough. It would have to pierce their flesh, which was harder than concrete due to earthpony magic - and it would have to either destroy their brain or nearly all of their body. But they were not indestructible.
Sharp claws grazed Luna's throat. Her wings snapped together in a clapping motion - such speed and force that the gryphon's head was crushed into a thin paste by the air pressure alone. Luna stepped backwards as she ran a studded hoof over her lightly marred fur - the surface of her skin barely scratched.
Sloppy, she chided to herself. She was thankful that it was night - the moon was already beginning to repair her wounds. But Luna did not have time to dwell on the mistake, though. There was work to be done.
And as she heard the echoing crack of something heavy strike Tempest - she realized that she likely had less time than she even thought. She turned around, her eyes narrow - only for her mouth to fall open.
A red dragon with a crest carved into its throat that Luna recognized - for how could she not recognize the crest of Gorolich the Invincible? - had dropped from the sky like a thunderbolt, striking directly into Tempest's side. Tempest had the size advantage - standing nearly twice as tall as the dragon.
But it seemed the dragons had a number advantage - as a black dragon that looked more like a rippling mass of disturbance tore through the air and struck into Tempest's back, causing her to stumble - and almost crush a section of Trottingham castle. Yes - unrestrained, Tempest would be able to crush these dragons. But she was far from unrestrained.
Tempest?
Fine. Focus.
Luna nodded. She spun her hammer in her telekinetic grasp before bursting up into the air - landing down at the gates of Trottingham castle, where Royal Guards were holding off gryphons. Their unicorns were channelling a shield around the courtyard, where they made their stand - the pegasi and earth ponies operating the unshielded part of the fort as they fought against the gryphons.
Luna dropped down from the sky by a pegasus decorated with red and gold. Her form shifted slightly - from her more fearsome form of battle to the regal and more - peaceful form she took in today's age. "A status report, captain."
"The fires are spreading. Casualties are in the dozens, at the least. Not including civilian casualties."
Luna's throat ran dry.
"Bastards keep on coming. They came through the air - we don't know how many of them there are. They've started building something - a ballista. Their leader is stationed where they're making it - tall gryphon. Their king, I think."
"Thank you, captain. Your service is appreciated." Luna fanned Cleddwyr in front of her: a spray of blood leaping off it as it decorated the ground. "The Lord Trottingham?"
"Dead," the captain said softly. "Their King killed she first - middle of the market. Pinned her body to the wall. She - she was a good mare."
"There will be time to grieve later, captain. Continue your efforts. I will deal with the King." She tensed down.
"Princess- the fires. If they continue to spread - there won't be anything to save."
Luna thought for a moment. "I cannot be everywhere, captain. But - your unicorns have the numbers advantage." Luna shut her eyes. "I will take the mantle of shielding. Command them to fight the fires."
"Understood, ma'am." The captain saluted - and moments later, the shield took on a deep blue hue.
Red and Black was what Tempest had taken to naming them. They were annoying - large enough to physically grapple with her enough to off-balance her when it was two on one and fast enough to take advantage of it. They made little use of their magic - preferring their pure physicality instead.
They must have thought she was a dragon. They tore at the base of her wings - only to find that the Storm parted and reformed in its place. They struck at her horns - not so much as scratching the crystalline armour and not attacking the ley in her tongue or claws.
She was not a dragon. She was a drakon - and she had the tail to prove it. It struck out like a whip - smashing across Red's face with such force and speed that it was as if Luna had struck Cleddwyr at full-speed into a wall. Scales shattered - Red was blinded with a spray of blood as the tip of her tail slashed across his eye. Black struggled against Tempest singlehandedly now - so Tempest grabbed onto her horns - denoted by the number of horns. She pushed them down - causing a sharp shriek of pain, only for Tempest to spin around and throw Black deeper into the ocean.
On all fours, she leapt after her prey - grabbing down onto Black's head with one claw and sliding her across the gravel floor of the ocean bed. She dragged until she saw red begin to bubble up, throwing Black onto the shore - her scales shorn off from sheer friction.
Tempest was not without mercy, though. She planted her claws, and growled.
"Leave! Now - or lay your lives down!" She spoke in the Draconic Tongue.
Red didn't waste a moment. His wings spread as he scrambled out of the ocean - tearing up from the shore with sprays of dirt, rock and sand as he leapt into the sky and soared away.
On the other hand, Black pushed herself up - spat out a glob of blood, and glared at Tempest.
"Pathetic. A dragon, helping ponies? King Gorolich will mount you over his wall once I am done with you."
Dragon.
Tempest's eye twitched. Dragon. Constantly. Constantly misnamed, constantly corrected incorrectly - dragon. Dragon, dragon - dragon. It was - maddening. It was - enraging. How could she carry the honor of the drakons when none knew what she was?
So she Asked. She Asked, and the World gave. She planted her claws down. Her wings spread - and she was large, larger than the Canterhorn itself as she grew. Greed Growth was not something that drakons had - it was unique to dragons and a rare trait among them. But this was not greed - no. This was - rage.
She towered over the Black dragon. IThe water rippled as thunder echoed through the air and lightning danced through the sky - a barrage of spear-like bits of rain striking into the Celestial Ocean with such force that the waves became more violent.
The two continued their duel - black lashing out ferally, striking at her and biting at her - while Tempest struck with strength and precision, each blow cracking scales and flesh. With the new force of the rain, though - the fires began to die down.
As the fires finally died - Luna tore from the ground like one of the many bolts of lightning that Tempest had painting the sky. She broke through the top of her own shield even as it repaired - as let the light of the moon focus on renewing her shield instead of her. It left her vulnerable - but she did not plan on making a mistake again.
A squadron of gryphons, true to the good captain's word, were constructing a ballista in the town market. The Lord Trottingham's body was a grim decoration on the ballista itself - pinned to an arrow that was being loaded as a particularly tall gryphon stood at its brunt. He was covered in armour - steel lining his dripping red claws and wings and stood only a head shorter than her sister.
She had never met King Redclaw. Considering these were the circumstances under which they met - she was happy that she had not. The fact that her sister had allowed this abominable gryphon to live - not an inch of remorse on his face even as he stood on the mutilated bodies of families was - disgusting.
She smashed through the centre of the ballista. She wasted not a second - no introduction, no one-liners, as Cleddwyr began carving through the gryphons. It moved with such speed and momentum that it turned blood into an aerosol mist, and turned flesh into a gooey paste. Feathers fell through the sky - and King Redclaw moved with an unnatural speed as he ducked underneath the blow, swiping up at Luna's throat.
Luna backstepped effortlessly, spinning around and bucking Redclaw in the face. Such a blow - especially with her armoured hooves - should've reduced him to a puddle. Instead, it sent him sailing across the square as he smashed into a building.
Redclaw stepped up. He grunted and wiped the blood from his lips - before smiling at the Princess. He began to glow with a light blue.
Luna lunged forward, aiming to impale his heart with her horn - but she was slightly too slow. Her horn pierced into his chest, just drawing blood even as he disappeared.
Luna snarled and stomped her hoof - but couldn't help but notice that the blood that dripped from her horn was silver.
In the ocean, Tempest lunged forward. She struck the black dragon across the face with her claw - a spray of blood oozing out into the ocean. Her tail lunged forward as it stabbed through the thin, leathery filament that formed the majority of her foe's wing - tearing to the side with a visceral rip. She followed this with an uppercut, grabbing onto the dragon's mouth - snapping her horns off with one claw and gouging at her tongue and teeth with her other claw. She threw her down into the ground with such force that a saltwater wave struck against Luna's shield in Castle Trottingham.
In a manner of speech that was more universal than all speak, she spoke in a language more direct than the native draconic of the dragons. She proclaimed, and the world listened.
"Dragon? NO! I am NO DRAGON! I am A DRAKON!" She roared.
The Storm raged. Wrath whipped through the air - scales being pulled apart into a fine mist of scale-dust. Tempest grabbed onto the dragon with both claws - shifting up onto her hind legs as she dangled the creature over the water.
"I AM THE QUEEN OF STORMS, WHELP!" She howled - as with a bloody rip, she tore the dragon's head from her body - its spine trailing behind it. Viscera trailed down into the ocean as the body fell.
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