//------------------------------// // 182 - A Compelling Invitation // Story: An Extended Holiday // by Commander_Pensword //------------------------------// Extended Holiday Chapter 182: A Compelling Invitation The chamber was broad and spacious with high ceilings and thick wooden beams to hold the structure together. Six large desks were lined along the space, and the walls were carefully set up with filing cabinet after filing cabinet and box after box, each carefully organized and set up to ensure the maximum efficient usage of the space. A black cat purred as it rubbed between the legs of the various furnishings and gazed with intent golden eyes at the two entrants. Binding gazed curiously at the system and the stacks of papers in various baskets or the act of being processed. A veritable torrent of papers flooded past one of the desks as a Pegasus zipped from one file to the next. Finished stacks were removed promptly and neatly deposited into various filing cabinets by a familiar Unicorn with a blond mane and a winning smile. “Not as big as your original team,” Hammer Strike spoke to Binding. “But, they’ll serve you well for the time being.” Binding frowned. “The one Pegasus looks well suited to the task, but I get the feeling these others wouldn’t put office work as their area of expertise….” “I needed a small team for it, and they can additionally serve another purpose, of course.” He nodded. “Paperwork just keeps them out of the light, which serves them quite well.” “Are we talking vampire light or the metaphorical limelight?” “Metaphorical.” Binding approached the Pegasus as she continued her work and nodded as he perused the paperwork with a glance. “Very nicely done.” The mare cringed back under his gaze. Binding raised a brow, then backed a few steps. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen an introvert. At least … two, maybe three centuries?” he mused as the mare blushed and buried herself all the deeper into her paperwork. “To clarify, when it comes time for these other skills you mentioned they have, did you want me to oversee those operations as well?”  “Perhaps not right away, though you will certainly find their skills useful in time. For now, I’d recommend just overviewing their side ops, and reviewing recovered evidence.”  “Recovered evidence from what, pray tell?” “Anyone and everyone.” “Ah, so the general evidence we used to deal with during the wars with the Unicorns.” “To a point, though on a much larger scale.” He paused and gave a shrug. “Well, that plan is for a larger scale. At the moment, they’re mostly tasked for Equestria and neighboring nations.” “Ah, King Hammer Strike, you honor us with your presence once again.” A Kitsune with white fur and bright red accents approached and bowed to the pair. “To what do we owe this happy encounter?” Binding raised a curious brow. “I was aware you had Kitsune in your employ, but I was under the impression they were all serving in a military capacity.” “He’s … unique, to say the least. Art is his speciality, and at the moment, he uses those skills to detect forgeries.” “I take great pride in my work.” The fox smiled. “And I must admit that it grants me a certain amount of inspiration when I pursue my craft in what free hours I am able to gain. You may call me Inari.” Binding nodded. “Very well, Inari. I look forward to working with you.” “Collector.” Hammer Strike turned toward the stallion. “You’ll be reporting to Binding here from now on when it comes to the paperwork. And do be warned, it will become more drastic. Once Binding has an idea of the available staff, we’ll figure out a full team for this task.” Binding smirked. “Fortunately, I have a few tricks of my own to help speed up productivity. I’ll be happy to teach them to each of you in turn.” His eyes drifted toward the lithe Unicorn mare, then to the Unicorn stallion that was comforting the Pegasus. “You will likely be my first student, Miss…?” “Poser. Tabby Poser,” the mare introduced herself. “A radiant beauty. But why do I get the feeling that this flower has a few thorns?” Binding smirked. “Ooh, this one’s much nicer than Skull. Can we keep him?” Binding winced as the cat quite suddenly decided to claw at his leg. “Since I am to be your superior for the time being, I believe it’s not so much a matter of you keeping me as me keeping all of you. Hammer Strike trusts you, and so I will trust you as well. I ask that you not betray it. So long as you remain loyal to Hammer Strike, I will use every means at my disposal to aid you in your endeavors, provided they are in accordance with Hammer Strike’s will and your current contracts with him.” He levitated the cat as it yowled and turned in the air. “I don’t take kindly to being attacked, however. If our silent friend over there could talk some sense into his familiar, I would appreciate it.” Tabby frowned. “How did you know Morgana was Silent Collector’s familiar?” Binding chuckled. “Let’s just say that contracts are my specialty.” He levitated the feline to the Unicorn in question. “I’ll have a chat with him,” Silent said as he took the cat in his magical grip and stared meaningfully at it. “Morgana can be very … protective over members of our team.” “Then I hope Morgana can get used to the idea of me supporting you all. Rest assured, I’ll do my very best to be of service and to sharpen your own skills under my supervision.” The air sang with the ring of resin over the strings as bows streaked and hairs vibrated. The steady sound of chords poured from the sound boards of the instruments as the two players continued their renditions, one a white unicorn, the other a yellow mare with a blue mane and a gorgeous green shirt tied with a belt. A white stetson completed the ensemble. As the final notes rang out from the instruments, the stallion looked to the mare nervously. “So, uh, how did I do?” “Well now, yur coming along mighty quick. Just need to whittle down a few edges and you’ll be beyond what I can teach ya.” “Really? Fiddling was always so hard for me when I tried it before. I’d trip up the notes or the strings would screech unless I slowed it down enough.” “All it takes is time and hard work.” “That and avoiding potentially annoying any others who don’t like Country?” “To each their own.” Fiddlesticks shrugged. “Fair enough.” Vital Spark shrugged in turn. “How’s life treating you? Getting enough gigs with your playing?” “Of course. Ain’t that hard. Besides if I ever need a little extra, I can always work on the farm.” “Dare I ask which one? It seems like you Apples have orchards and businesses all over the place.” “Oh, we come from just east of the Whitetail Woods,” Fiddlesticks said. “Me and Octavia left there some time ago.” “I bet you’ve been all over the place since then,” Vital guessed. “Well, it helps I get called in to every family reunion.” She laughed. “Still, I imagine I’ll be returning to the farm someday. Not like I can expect Octavia to make sure the farm carries on.” “You don’t have any other siblings or family to help?” “Not on our farm. Just a pair of twins.” She smirked. “Is that common for the Apple family?” “Nope.” Fiddlesticks shook her head. “We may be one of the few generations smaller than Sweet Apple Acres.” Vital whistled. “So how are you going to manage your orchard all by yourself, then?” “Start a family.” Fiddlesticks shrugged. “Hire farm hands, maybe call in a few cousins.” Vital smiled. “I bet that music of yours gives your crops a real kick.” “Probably does at that.” She laughed. “You’ll have to come play for them once in a while.” Vital laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. I do a lot more than just fiddling, you know.” “I want you to think about your wording there, big guy.” “You do realize I was talking about the trees and what I play on my violin, right?” “Still gotta watch your words, casanova. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m in your league,” she teased. Vital chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Fiddlesticks. You are an attractive mare, as is your sister, but you’re not exactly my type. Trust me, if I were making advances, I’d be more blatant about it. Not crude, mind you, but definitely obvious. I’m about as subtle as a brick most of the time. Also, I’ve been teased far worse by Grif. You’re going to have to up your game if you want to make me blush.” “Oh, I could if I wanted.” She smirked. “Why do I get the feeling we’re playing a game of chess?” “You always are.” She chuckled. “You're an attractive stallion in a world where we have one to every five to seven mares. I’d figured you’d realized that by now.” Vital let out a timid laugh. “Um, just for the record, are you seriously flirting here or still trying to get me to blush?” “Can’t be both?” Fiddlesticks asked. That got Vital Spark to blush. Pensword frowned as he approached the target to dislodge his arrows. Range Master had given his consent to cross over, but the sight of where the arrows had landed left him feeling less than comfortable. Bullseyes were the norm for him before. And while he had managed to cluster the bolts well, it was clear that he didn’t have quite that same accuracy anymore. The arrows had been carefully grouped around the red with one quarrel just breaking the line in the outermost yellow ring. “That … is concerning,” Pensword said as he removed the quarrels and returned to his position on the range. Range Master shrugged. “No shame in it. You’ve still got a good shot. Your aim’s just a little off center is all.” “I’m never off center, Range Master.” The stallion shrugged. “First time for everything. Just shows you’re like any other soldier. Sometimes you hit and sometimes you miss.” “I can’t afford to miss.” Range Master shook his head. “That’s probably your problem, then. Too much tension. You need to relax more.” “Relax? When I’m preparing for combat?” “Better to relearn it now than have it bite you in the flank on the field.” His ear twitched and he whipped around suddenly to bark at a Pegasus as she raised and began to set her bow. “Did I give you permission to pick up that bow, Crosshairs?” The mare in question squealed in surprise, and her bow clattered to the ground. Range Master sighed. “Amateurs,” he groaned. Then he raised his voice. “If I see anypony picking up those weapons without my permission, there’ll be Tartarus to pay. Do I make myself clear?” “Sir, yes, Sir!” came the united response. Range Master smiled and nodded, then turned back to Pensword. “You know what stress can do to a soldier, Pensword. And like it or not, you’re under a lot of it right now. Practice, loosen up, get the feel for it, and make it feel like breathing. Then you’ll have the hang of it.” Pensword sighed and nodded his acknowledgement. “Solid advice,” he agreed. “I suppose I’ll go for another round or two with this one, then switch to my other bow. I can’t allow myself to get rusty with it.” Range Master nodded. “Just let me know when you’re ready to change over.” He smiled wryly. “Hammer Strike may be king out there, but nobody breaks the rules on my range. I don’t care if it’s Sleipnir himself.” Pensword couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks, Range Master. I needed that.” The stallion smiled. “Any time, Pensword. Now, why don’t you go ahead and do me a favor?” “Yes?” Range Master took a deep breath, then bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Archers, bows at the ready!” Pensword’s ears rang for ten minutes straight after his session was over. He winced. “Note to self. Set up regular time to practice on the range. Second note to self, bring earplugs.” The life of a Dragon is a difficult thing to comprehend. The culture circles around power and strength being the deciding factors for who rules and who falls. In ancient days, this culture nearly destroyed the Dragons and their future. Fortunately for them, Hammer Strike was persuaded to relent. Now two Dragons sat together outside a cafe in New Unity, one on a larger scale with radiant fiery feathers and four eyes; the other significantly smaller to the point that he was shorter than even a Pony. One was thousands of years old. The other was still less than a couple of decades. “So, you wanted to ask me something?” Yharon asked calmly as he consumed a spicy red pepper corn cupcake. “A few somethings, actually,” Spike returned as he idly spun the coco in his mug with a spoon. “Hammer Strike told me about what happened to my egg before Twilight hatched it. Equestria doesn’t have much to do with the Dragonlands, and the only person who seems to know anything about us and how we grow up is Zecora. Since you’re a Dragon, and Hammer Strike raised you, that makes us kind of like brothers. And since the only Dragons I’ve known are total jerks, I kind of have a lot of questions.” Yharon smiled. “I thought you might. After everything Father did, the Dragons wouldn’t have been keen to cross Equestria again. It’s possible they kept that knowledge away from Equestria in order to bide their time for when they might strike again, should they ever find a way to break the contract their god made with Father in the first place. Were you looking for biology, culture, or something else?” Spike frowned and peered into his mug. “I … guess a little of everything.” “Our father is one of the oldest living beings on this planet, sans the gods, and even he doesn’t know everything.” Yharon smiled playfully. “But I’ll see if I can give you a few samples.” Spike folded his arms grumpily. “You sound like Twilight.” “That’s a trait that comes from our common ancestor. Hammer Strike tends to prefer helping people come to their own realizations, rather than handing things on a silver platter. Real growth is much harder to come by if everything is spoon fed to you. Having someone achieve it by doing gives experience and ensures the lesson sticks. He only force feeds when he deals with people who try to force their world views on him and his subjects.” Spike raised a brow, but let the comment slide. “So, I already went through greed growth. But I don’t really know what else I’m going to have to deal with when I get older. Will something else happen? Will I get big like the red dragon Fluttershy had to deal with? Are all Dragons mean? Will I turn mean because all Dragons are mean? Will I—?” “Slow down. Slow down.” Yharon couldn’t help but chuckle at the young Dragon’s antics. They were very much reminiscent of the mare Spike called his big sister. “One question at a time.” He took another bite of cupcake. “First of all, yes, something else will eventually happen. Your puberty has only just begun by the typical Dragon cycle. The greed growth was merely the first step, one that you were able to navigate quite well, from what I’ve been told. Certainly not at first, but in the end, you were able to come out of it yourself. Most Dragons don’t have that kind of willpower. Once they enter that frenzy, they tend to stay in it. It’s one reason why smaller dragons are so rare to find today, except for the younger generation. That leaves you open to a number of possibilities for growth, especially given who else you have in your pedigree.” “So, there are still different kinds of Dragons, even after that happens?” “Oh, yes. Some are flightless. Others are lithe and quick. Others specialize in strength while certain others focus more on cunning instead. The more you possess and the bigger you are, as a rule, demands greater attention. Though it is not necessarily that factor which decides who gets to rule in the Dragonlands.” “The Dragonlands have a ruler?” Yharon nodded. “Father made sure of it before he departed. Every generation of Dragons is bound to serve under a Dragon Lord. This ruler guides and directs his or her generation and the next through sheer force of will, and earns the right to rule in accordance with the challenges and contrivances set by the previous Dragon Lord. After running through that gauntlet, the Dragon who proves worthy takes up the mantle to guide the race in accordance with the contract that binds them.” “That’s it?” Yharon nodded. “That’s it. The Dragon Lord then decides how the generation will change. They can become lawful and orderly or chaotic and destructive. They can steal and plunder or conserve their resources. They can hoard everything or spread the wealth. They can take steps forward or pull a whole generation backwards kicking and screaming. Such is the power of the Dragon Lord.” Spike gulped. “Does that mean the Dragon Lord can command me, too?” Yharon rubbed his chin in thought. “That … is a very good question. Your egg was very old. It was laid long before the need for the contract came to be. And it waited in dormancy long after the forging. However, since it’s a divine contract, it’s distinctly possible that you would be bound by its power. That being said, you are also bound to Hammer Strike in a very literal sense by blood, one of the primary founders of the contract. That may or may not give you some leeway.” The Dragon shrugged. “Only time will tell. And hopefully, you will never have to find out.” Spike frowned. “I … don’t want to hurt my friends.” Yharon promptly flicked Spike on the forehead. “Ow!” “That was for dwelling on ‘what-ifs,’” Yharon chided. “The odds of such a scenario unfolding are astronomically small. And more importantly, if something like it does rise, then you should do what Father and even your sister would do. Find a way to take it and change it in your favor. If the world tries to make you do something you don’t want to do, don’t let it. You decide your fate.” “I … don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that.” Yharon smiled. “Then you are a fool.” “Hey!” “That isn’t a bad thing,” Yharon pointed out. “The fool is one of the most dangerous forces in the arcana. Its power is limitless potential. The fact you do not know what you are capable of means that you are capable of anything. And that will remain so until your abilities are tried. Then it will be up to you to shape your power and your future as you see fit. And if what I have heard of you is anything to go on, then you won’t disappoint.” “It’s still a big responsibility.” “That’s what growing up is all about, little brother. You are just as important to the world’s survival as Twilight Sparkle or any of her friends. Without you, the Crystal Empire would have fallen. Without you, Twilight Sparkle would have failed to defeat Discord. The fool is a fool because he or she does not recognize their own power and role. Don’t belittle yours, but don’t allow it to go to your head either. Then the path ahead should become more clear.” “That’s a little vague.” “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Yharon smiled. “Are you sure you haven’t played Ogres and Oubliettes before?” “Fairly. But who knows?” Yharon chuckled. “Now, how about we focus on another round of sweets, hmm? We still have some more catching up to do.” The desk was plain as the room to which the clan leader led his guest, and Grif liked it that way. It was far easier to fool a spy by using the simple over the complex. The room was lit by oil lamps and cast gentle light over the space as the mare followed her host in and closed the door behind them. Swift Wings, as usual, felt perfectly at home in the common space and bowed her head to the Gryphon. “My compliments on your security measures. I couldn’t help but notice the number of Black Tips you have in your employ.” “Well, as I’m sure you can attest, the best security for assassins and spies are assassins and spies themselves.” Grif chuckled. “And the general understanding that if they turned against me, I could have them all dead within fifteen minutes.” “By your own hands or using others?” The question wasn’t so much to gauge his character as out of professional curiosity. “By my own hand,” Grif said casually. “You worked closely with a rare few of my people, or so Hammer Strike told me. And I rarely doubt him on such things. I’m sure you realize my people have a tendency to require proof of one's abilities before they believe them. I myself am a big believer in the carrot and the knife.” “I thought bacon would be a more apt metaphor for your species.” “Possibly, but Pony culture has more or less influenced the world for a thousand years.” He shrugged. A pair of talons reached over Swift Wings’ shoulder to set a steaming cup down in front of her. She noticed the bandages along the arms. And when she looked back, Grif’s face smirked back at her before vanishing. Grif seemingly hadn’t moved from his chair. “Red root tea, brewed for two minutes, a squeeze of blueberry juice, a pinch of lemon, and a teaspoon of sugar. I believe your palate will find it agreeable.” He smirked. “If I were receiving this from anyone else, I would be tempted to refuse. But Hammer Strike has already assured me of your loyalty. You even saved his life, from what I understand.” She took a casual sip, being careful, as always to keep her expression properly schooled. “He has my oath. An oath on blood is binding, possibly as binding as the contracts you and your friends created. Furthermore, if you were anyone else, I would have you followed, but I can see the strength of the bonds you have formed with him. I have a feeling the two of us will be able to handle a lot in the future.” He tapped a crystal beneath his desk and the windows became opaque. The doors locked as torches lit around them. “And now we can speak freely.” “In my profession, even in a safe space, I assume it is not nearly so safe. Then again, once Hammer Strike is properly situated, he’ll probably be able to help upgrade some of your safety measures. His projectors have all manner of uses, not just for neutralizing magical fields.” “Ah, yes. I need to remember to look at that. He gave me one to study,” Grif noted. “I just have been busy as of late. Don’t worry, though. Hammer Strike helped me devise several of the security features in this room. He tells me you were his spymaster, as well as his blade in the dark?” “Among other things.” Swift Wings nodded. “I owe him a great debt, not unlike that which you owed to him. He saw me and my friends as people, not pawns or peons. That was a rare trait to find back then.” “I know the sentiment. Even among my own people, I was an outcast and a nobody, an orphan whose entire life hinged around the kindness of one old warrior. I was the lowest of the Gryphons who, at the time, were low to begin with. When the plague hit, we must have visited a dozen lords of Equestria who turned away our call for help. Hammer Strike did not even hesitate for a second. That was when I knew this was the person I would die for.” “He gave Binding and the blockhead a home. That was something we hadn’t had for a very long time. And much like how you were willing to die for him, I was willing to kill, if he required it.” She nodded sagely. “Isn’t it interesting how similar our backgrounds actually are.” Then she chuckled. “I suppose Hammer Strike simply has a way of drawing those kinds of people to him. Or perhaps it’s fate.” She shrugged. “Either way, his influence is a blessing to those who are willing to accept it.” “And those who are unaware of it at all.” Grif chuckled as he pulled out a map and a crystal. “This crystal is unique. Clover created it on a magical frequency that cannot occur naturally, and most magicians would have a one-in-three-billion chance of guessing.” He spread the map over the desk, then placed the crystal by the light of a torch. It projected a careful blue light down onto the map that split into three larger rays, which then birthed a few dozen smaller rays from it. “These are the locations of our three different operations headquarters, and then their smaller bases, safehouses, and caches,” he explained. “Ideally, the population is unaware of ninety-five percent of what we actually do.” “Given the fact we operate outside the law, I would expect nothing less.” She stroked her chin. “I assume that for the most part, these cells are expected to operate under their own discretion with reports back to you as the current spymaster?” Grif nodded. “They are all run with at least one Changeling in the leadership or assistant leadership position, allowing them to maintain instantaneous untraceable communication, despite the distance. Thus, they are aware of each other but still capable of independence. They are, however, unaware of my identity as spymaster.” “Won’t that make it difficult if you ever need to visit them in person?” “Not really. I am Grif Bladefeather. Until recently, Hammer Strike’s greatest assassin. The idea of me being sent to help with a situation made perfect sense,” Grif explained. “Though parlour tricks aside, it seems I’ll be surrendering that title to you.” “After the ‘tricks’ you just showed me, I’m not so sure.” Swift Wings smiled. “Unless, of course, you feel we need to divide up the duties between ourselves. Or were you thinking something more along the lines of me serving as a subordinate just underneath you?” “I need to take a general step back from all but the more extreme situations,” Grif admitted. “I have far too many irons in the fire right now. I’ll still be taking care of Hammer Strike’s personal hits and security for major events, but to be honest, my title as spymaster will mostly be an administrative position.” “I suppose that would help both of us get more sleep than I used to before.” She chuckled. “Hammer Strike had to craft a special potion just to keep me awake some days.” “I’d imagine that was the ancestor to the brew Thestrals still use today.” Grif chuckled. “Now, I should note only two of these operations are for information gathering and asassination. The third is made for dealing with monster attacks and disaster relief.” “Speaking of which, how is your progress on building a hunter’s guild?” “Much faster, now that Hammer Strike’s endorsing it.” Grif smirked. “Which is probably for the best.” “After what happened with that dome, I should think so.” Grif pulled out several sealed tubes and a small knife. “My documents. Just a drop of blood will make sure only you can open them.” “How many of these containers do I need to key myself to?” she asked as she took the knife and cut herself to begin the bonding process. “All of them. These are copies of everything you need to be aware of.” Swift Wings smiled ruefully. “I thought you said I wasn’t going to have paperwork,” she teased. “You won’t. I wrote all this down from memory. Memorize them and destroy them,” Grif ordered. “Also, the factions have been told to expect your communications under the handle of Asp.” “Aptly named.” She smirked. “Very well, Grif. In that case, I suppose I’d better get to work memorizing.” Dross Caster wiped the sweat from her buttery brow and blew her mane out of the way. The fires of the forge were intense, and the workload even greater. A number of mannequins had been properly decked with repaired armor, but whole piles of helmets, breastplates, and more still waited for their turn. A buckler sat before her now, and the cherry color of the steel sparked and sang under the blows of her hammer as she worked to shape the patch properly and meld it with the rest of the shield before pounding the layers into place. The design wasn’t so intricate as what Storm Hammer had shown her previously, but it was a start, and the runes waiting to be pounded into the metal would help to act as a diffuser for any spells directed at the shield, rather than letting them strike through the metal to attack the wielder. “I wonder where he picked these up, anyway,” she mused as she retrieved the metal tools and the appropriate hammer to begin imprinting. “Study,” Hammer Strike spoke as he stepped into the room. “The tool itself was a simple thing to make. I see you’re doing well enough on the repairs.” Dross jumped again, though she managed to hold back the squeal this time. More importantly, she didn’t mar the shield. “You’d think I’d be used to you sneaking up on me … by … now….” Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her mentor and master. The stallion had grown significantly taller, and his eyes glowed like the coals of the forge fires in a vibrant blue. “What happened to you?” she asked, not so much in shock as with that drawn out tone that is used when the mind is forced to suddenly jump tracks. Hammer Strike raised a brow. “You haven’t gotten out much, have you? I even made an announcement to New Unity to explain everything.” “You said these were a priority, so I’ve been working to get them done.” She wiped her brow again. “You go through a lot of armor, don’t you?” “Given the fact that we’re in a forest of hostile creatures, yeah, they tend to need repairs quite often. I’ll have to start working on a new standard soon enough. As for clarifying everything—” he gestured to himself “—just know that it’s been a long time for me. As in, thousands-of-years long time.” “Time travel’s a thing?” “Technically, it has been.” Hammer Strike frowned. “It’s not very stable for the most part, of course. I had some work to do, and so the universe sought to correct it. We might have to start over, as I need to reevaluate you and determine a new way of teaching you.” Dross Caster cocked her head to the side. “A new way? I thought this was always how apprenticeships worked.” “Yes, but you’ll find that I don’t typically follow the norm.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I believe it’s better to have you move with more forward momentum when I teach you. Of course, you’ll still be doing repairs and such, but as I will be doing some new armor standards, it’ll be lessened to minor work.” “You mean you plan to build an entirely new design for guard uniforms?” “Correct. The current standard is a little … lacking, in my opinion. And since I have taken my rule back, I can issue new equipment orders without complaint.” It took the mare a few seconds to process that. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, then. How can I help?” “Finish work on that buckler, and I’ll come up with a few tests for you. Once I’ve been reminded of your skill level, we’ll figure out where to go from there.” Dross nodded. “I’ll try to have this one done soon. Should I take this as a practical examination, then?” “I’m sure you’ll manage the shield fine. The test will be on some more overall work, from beginning to end.” The mare smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” Pensword sighed as he peered over the bindings of the latest strategy manual. Scroll after scroll of notes stood at the ready, the fruits of his labors thus far over the veritable avalanche of advances in tactics and maneuvers over the millennia. He groaned as he slumped onto the desk and his wings draped toward the floor. “It’ll take me decades just to get a fraction of this memorized.” “Yeah, I figured you guys would’ve had, I dunno, a cheat sheet or something.” Towering Wall frowned as he looked over the manual in front of himself. “Too dangerous.” Pensword shook his head. “Get all that strategy in one place and anyone could steal it or copy it for espionage.” “Given what I’ve seen, I don’t really think that’s much of a problem. I mean, look at all these books. They’re all labeled, right? So what stops them from taking this?” “That’s … in my next book,” Pensword admitted. “Security measures and magical defenses. I assume the classified measures are top secret, which means I won’t have access to them in my current state, but I at least have to have a proper understanding of precautions that are available to guards.” “Fair enough, I suppose.” Towering Wall hummed as he rubbed the side of his head. “Something the matter?” Pensword asked. “Not really. Just seems like a lot of useful information being held back from the ones who could use it?” “We don’t have the same security measures you had back when Hammer Strike helped to found Equestria. That requires the government to be more secretive and selective with whom it shares its strategies and sensitive documents.” “It kinda sounds more like Swift’s field than it does mine at times.” He shrugged. “I mean, I kinda worked mostly on defense. Had my own unit. It was great.” “Really? What for?” “We ran the capital’s defense.” Towering smiled. “Fully kitted out with plate armor, tower shields, the works. Heck, Hammer Strike actually made all our gear personally, so it was able to withstand almost anything.” Pensword chuckled. “That sounds like our Hammer Strike all right. I’m told you and yours fought against a lot of the darker creatures back then.” “Yeah, but we were geared for it in comparison to the guard outside of Unity, er, New Unity, so it made them a lot easier to manage.” “And you never had to study strategies or anything like that back in the day?” “I mean, we had how we were trained, but when it came to strategies, we mostly worked on the moment. I had to get better at reading a fight when Binding was busy with other more important things.” “So you devised new strategies each time, rather than having prepared combat styles in place?” “I mean, if they can just change what they’re doing to something new, how does it really work to have a plan for them?” Tower shrugged. “Just didn’t make sense to me. Heck, if you want to see something in action, you should ask Binding about his own mastery of the battlefield.” Pensword smiled. “You know, I think I might just do that when he has the time. From what I understand, you three are what could be considered national treasures that time forgot.” “When we learned we didn’t age because of something related to Binding, we were given a lot of time to better ourselves. Binding had a thousand years to perfect his contracts and studies. Swift became so good at espionage that she could practically walk into any city in the world unnoticed. I kinda just spent my time bettering my fighting, response speed, stuff like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t have been so close to Hammer Strike if you did that little,” Pensword pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tapped you to help us brush up some of our recruits.” “He mentioned wanting me to make my own unit again. I just have to find those who can really match what I do. So far, the Gryphons that arrived recently really seem like they want to take part. Beyond them, there aren’t many Ponies that can match at the moment. But given enough training, I’m sure they could do it.” Pensword couldn’t help but smirk. “You, sir, have the charisma of a natural leader.” “Nah, it’s just years of practice.” Tower waved dismissively. “In any case, though, I don’t think I’ve got much I can get out of these manuals.” “Well, if Hammer Strike wants you to teach those units your way, I suppose not.” Pensword sighed, then sputtered. “Lucky.” “Hey, your job is just different from mine,” he remarked as he stood up. “You’re aiming for high in the branches. I’m good with just hometown defense.” Pensword smiled ruefully. “I guess the best I can do is wish the both of us good luck, then. Thanks for keeping me company, Towering Shield.” “It was no problem. I’ll see you around.” Pensword waved a wing weakly. “Until then, Towering Shield.” And then he dove back into his work. There was still a lot to be done. Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he sorted through several documents on his desk. At the moment he was sorting through bits of information to catch up on every little event he could in the modern day. Binding had taken to his new group and was studying up as well to account for new personalities and situations. Hammer Strike’s studies would have lasted longer, as he initially hoped, were it not for the presence he could hear moving toward his office. Once they were close enough, he put his papers away and called out, “You’re clear to come in.” After a brief moment of hesitation, the individual entered, revealing a familiar blue stallion wearing a saddlebag. “I see you’ve already started catching up on things.” “Got to keep up with everything,” Hammer Strike chuckled as the door closed. “It’s been some time, Broker. I do hope things haven’t been too lively for you?” “Not at all. Changelings of the current hives can’t see me unless I want them to, and I’m positive I have been forgotten by this point in time,” Broker replied as he looked around the room. “Also, you should replace those Changeling lanterns when you get the chance. Now that you’re back, you really need to update your security.” “Yeah, I know.” Hammer Strike sighed. “It’s a slow process, but that’s high on the list, among other things.” Broker nodded. “I expected as much. Sorry for not coming around sooner, but it’s not exactly a short trip here, and the crew isn’t stationed nearby.” “How is the new crew, anyway?” “They’re skilled, but each of them have a few points that need to be worked on. Beyond that, though, they can do mostly whatever I need of them.” “Trust them well enough?” “After what they’ve done so far, I think I can. They’re certainly showing it in return, though I suppose helping them avoid imprisonment probably helped.” “I’d believe it.” Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle. “Are you able to move closer to here anytime soon?” “It would be somewhat strange for me to move in just now. The book store will still work as ample cover, but it’s not in demand here yet. Once you have residential going and citizens moving in, then I can slip in, get a place situated,” Broker explained as he paced the room. “Fair enough. Just stop on by when the time comes and I’ll keep an eye on things.” He nodded. “You got it. But, I didn’t just stop by to catch up. I have some information for you.” He reached into his saddlebag, pulled out a tube, and passed it over to Hammer Strike. Hammer Strike took hold of the tube and cracked it open, revealing a series of documents and images. Images of an almost familiar mare with both a pair of wings and a horn. “Not an ascended Alicorn,” Broker continued. “This one’s been around for some time. I discovered their presence near the end of the Discordian era after being displaced, myself.” He frowned at the statement. Hammer Strike, meanwhile, was speechless as he looked over the pictures. It was a natural born Alicorn, but they were smaller than the average ones he remembered. Not quite as small as E was, but closer in height to the average Pony. He couldn’t fully recognize them, but something was gnawing at the back of his mind as he looked them over. “Any other bits of information you were able to gather on them?” “I spent some time looking things over, especially given your dislike of natural born Alicorns, apart from your daughters of course. From what I can tell, she’s held captive, but not to a severe degree. It’s more like she doesn’t have a reason to leave. I wasn’t able to get as close as I would have liked, but I was able to determine that they call her E. Whether it’s a nickname or—” “E?” Hammer Strike spoke suddenly as he snapped his attention to Broker before returning to the pictures. That was what it was. He recognized the cutie mark, but…. “She got taller? How? Last I checked, that was just her standard, and it’s not like she would have had enough tech to change that.” “You know her?” He looked up. “Yeah. She was one of the Alicorns who I could trust, helped out plenty in order to get Celestia, Luna, and myself off the island. I didn’t even know she survived. Maybe her tablet broke or something,” he muttered the last part in thought. “In that case, then I assume you’ll want to meet back up with her. There will, however, be an issue with that.” “I assume with the previously mentioned detainers?” “Yeah. Right now, she’s being held by, well…” “So, we’re still in the green, financially,” Grif said to his assistant as he looked over the paperwork. “However, these cases of people amassing mercenaries need to be looked into.” It was paperwork day. And unfortunately, Grif had a bit of a backlog he had to look into, which meant he’d spent the last eight hours signing and sealing papers, checking facts, and giving orders. Naturally, when there was a knock at the door, he eagerly called them in. “Uh, Sir, an envoy has arrived asking to see you,” the Gryphon who entered spoke. “An envoy from who?” “The, uh, Sphinxes, Sir.” Grif stared at the Gryphon, unsure how to respond to that at first. “Come again?” “The Sphinxes, Sir.” “That's … incredibly unlikely.” “Nevertheless, Sir, it is what's going on,” the Gryphon said. “Very well, tell them I'll meet them in the main hall in a few minutes,” Grif said. As soon as the Gryphon was gone, Grif sent out a few letters with his dragonfire lighter, to Hammer Strike as well as his wives, specifically Avalon and Shria,l to come to the main hall immediately. By the time he arrived, Hammer Strike was already there. “Ah, good. You read it,” Grif said. “Since it arrived right next to me, it was hard to miss. That, and you marked it as urgent,” Hammer Strike replied. “I had to cut a meeting short, but I got enough information on what it was about.” “Yeah, well it’s not every day you get a lost species sending an envoy.” “Considering the info I was gathering, yeah, the timing is quite interesting.” Hammer Strike frowned. “Sounds like a story.” Grif chuckled. “Just know that they’ve got someone I want back.” Hammer Strike narrowed his eyes momentarily as he looked at the door. “And likely will need in the future.” “I see.” Grif nodded. It took some time for the others to arrive. Shrial and Avalon were both occupied at the time, and Gilda was in no fit state to move around on her own when her time was drawing so close. However, the pair finally got their affairs in order and arrived. “Is it true?” Avalon asked. “You know better than to ask that, Avalon. Grif doesn’t tell lies,” Shrial chided. “Apparently, an envoy from the Sphinxes has requested to speak with me.” “After all this time, why would they reveal themselves now?” Avalon asked. “That is what we intend to find out,” Hammer Strike said. “You all are ready?” Grif asked. “Are you expecting trouble?” Shrial asked with raised brow. “They have hidden for thousands of years. I have no idea what to expect,” Grif admitted. “Then we’re just going to have to wing it, I suppose. What’s that saying you always like to use? Hope for the best, plan for the worst?” Avalon asked. “Yeah.” Grif nodded. “I hope you girls are ready to make history.” “Didn’t we already do that?” Shrial asked cheekily. “Seems it has its eye on us.” Grif chuckled before he signaled for the envoy to be allowed in. The door opened, and as they watched, four creatures walked in with a feline grace. There were two tabby-colored, a calico, and a russian blue. They all wore egyptian-styled collars with beads of gold and blue woven into them. The calico wore an elaborate blue and white headdress seemingly denoting their station over the rest. “Welcome, sisters and brothers, to the Bladefeather compound,” Grif offered, though he made no physical gesture with the greeting. “Greetings, Avatar of Winds. The winds of change that first sprang from your awakening have led to much growth in the world. And, indeed, the most recent proved particularly jarring to us and our people. It is an honor to stand before such august company.” The Sphinx did not bow, but it offered a nod of acknowledgement toward Hammer Strike. “I must admit I was shocked when my doorguard informed me of your appearance. No Gryphon has seen hide or hair of you since right after the fall.” “Such was the will of the Winds. Those with the gift of sight saw what had to be done to preserve our culture and our people for the day when our gods could return again. It is to that stern duty which we have held in secret throughout the ages.” “Then you are likely aware of the recent changes that have occurred?” The Sphinx cocked its head in confusion. “I believe I already said so, did I not?” “I was referring more to the current revival of the tri-goddess.” “As was I. Our people rejoiced when her song rang through the ether. The balance is not yet fully restored, but it is a beginning, one that is long overdue.” “I am close to fixing the balance entirely. Only a few minor pieces left to put together.” “Indeed. Though not everything is quite as it seems. Such is the nature of prophecy. It is,” he chuckled, “a riddle.” “I take it this is more than just a social call,” Hammer Strike said. “We have come to extend an invitation. For many years, we have remained hidden because the other races have squabbled and squandered their knowledge. There are few who would use knowledge wisely, let alone justly. Your return, however, changes that, King Hammer Strike.” “Indeed. Knowledge tends to be squandered, especially when hidden from the world amongst its own shelves,” Hammer Strike responded. “Cloaked and hidden in the back of a room,” he finished as his eyes glowed brighter and he stared intently toward the wall next to the door where the party had entered. The Sphinx raised his brow in surprise at the statement. “As expected of the one to end the Firstborn, you are very astute.” A gentle nod toward the spot soon revealed a Sphinx with a flowing red mane that rippled like rivers as her coppery fur and luminous eyes emerged from the hood she had removed. “It is customary of our people to have a member in the party thus cloaked in the event that harm should befall the rest. As you well know, rarity breeds a certain amount of … desire in others.” “I’m sure of it, especially since you never obtained diplomatic immunity,” Hammer Strike remarked with a raised brow. “Of course, I’m sure that will change in the future, yes?” “The laws of hospitality were modified over seven hundred years ago,” Grif noted. “Your safety is not assured just because you are an envoy.” “It is a risk worth taking to speak with you, however,” the Sphinx replied. “And as King Hammer Strike has so keenly indicated, it is our people’s hope to establish such ties. As an act of good will, we wish to extend an invitation to you and those you select to visit us. There is one whom we care for who would find great joy in seeing you again, King Hammer Strike. And it has come to our attention that there are answers that we know the Avatar has also been seeking. It would be our honor to aid him in his quest, both for the gods and for his own history,” he said as he eyed the blades on either side of Grif. “You know the origins of Vigilance and Vengeance?” “How could we not? I believe you already know why.” “I just thought those memories were lost to time,” Grif noted “That which is lost need not be lost forever. And much like the Kitsune, we have our ways of securing history.” “Though I’m sure you find difficulty in obtaining some bits of history,” Hammer Strike spoke up. “Especially when the only ones to remember it want it forgotten. I’m quite positive she hasn’t told you as much as you would like to know. As some points of history, lost to time, are better left where they lie.” “So it is true; the eyes of King Hammer Strike see all.” “So you came here to ask me to visit you?” Grif clarified. “If you would be willing, it would be our honor. We have not had contact with our cousins in the capital since the great separation. Aside from the prophets we have had, there has been little in the way of religious guidance.” “I will agree to this. However, I will do so with assurances your people will open proper political channels from here after.” “With Hammer Strike and Equestria, certainly. But until the other gods are restored, it would be preferable for our people to keep our whereabouts private. Is this a suitable arrangement for you, King Hammer Strike?” Hammer Strike stared at them flatly, and his eyes flashed once again. “If your concern is over your safety, it would be a simple matter to add your people as a protectorate, especially since you reside in our lands.” “A generous offer, Your Majesty, but it is not mine to accept. When our people separated themselves from the empire, we had to appoint a leader of our own to guide us. Each generation calls upon one who is marked by the Goddess to lead us. The mark is always the same. For even as She embodies life and death, so too does our leader, past, future, and present, bear a similar division of white and black, two opposites in perfect symmetry.” “Then Hammer Strike will have a chance to meet with them.” Grif smirked. “If he is willing to come, I am certain that she would be delighted.” “I’m sure I can find the time.” Hammer Strike nodded. “You have directions for me?” Grif asked. “There is a map. However, to gain access to the valley itself, one must break the charm that protects our home. Answer wisely and you will pass. Answer poorly and the way will remain barred.” “Sounds fun.” Grif chuckled. “That is … not the kind of reaction we expected,” the Sphinx admitted. He produced a parchment and presented it between the two. “This will be your guide. While we know we have no power to demand or compel you, it is our humble request that you not bring your airship. It is very large, and very noticeable.” “That will significantly lengthen the trip,” Grif noted. “If you have one of smaller size, that will be acceptable and preferable. As I said, we cannot prevent you. It is your choice how you travel.” “We’ll have a method of getting there,” Hammer Strike reassured. “Of appropriate scale, of course.” Grif approached and took the map carefully. “You have our thanks, King Hammer Strike. With your permission, we will depart immediately for our home to make the necessary preparations for your arrival. If you do not object, would you allow us two weeks’ time to that end?” “That should be fine, as it will take some preparations on this end as well.” Hammer Strike nodded. “You have our thanks.” The Sphinx offered a lower bow of his head. “Until next we meet. May knowledge guide you through life and guard you in death.” “And may the winds be at your back ever onward,” Grif responded. A nod from the leader led to the hidden Sphinx donning her cloak again. In a moment, she wavered out of perception, as though she had never been there in the first place. The party then departed respectfully as silently as they had come. “Well, that’s a lot to unpack,” Shrial said. “Very enigmatic,” Avalon agreed. “They like guessing games, don’t they? Do you think they’re chess players?” “If they did, I wouldn’t recommend playing against them,” Hammer Strike remarked as he double checked the room. “They gone?” Grif asked. “Yes.” Grif tapped a ring with an unobtrusive purple gem on it. At first glance, most would think it a simple amethyst, but instantly energy covered the room to seal the openings and cut out all sound. “Well, they think they're clever,” Grif said. “Compared to most of the other races, they probably are to an extent,” Avalon noted. “Their primary god was the Black Gale before she was broken apart. She never left Equis, so their fall may have been slowed compared to what happened to our people.” “Yes, but that's where they misplayed their hands.” Grif chuckled “They thought they were talking to a Gryphon beholden to the same issues the decay brings for our people. They were playing to my greed and my pride.” “And your curiosity?” Shrial asked pointedly. “And my curiosity,” Grif agreed. “But I took a lot more from that interaction than they think I did.” “I’m surprised they didn’t inquire after me and my school, all things considered. Unless they think it irrelevant,” Avalon mused. “I suppose if they have the books on the theory, they wouldn’t care if the art resurfaced.” “The evokers of old worked differently from the modern, though I suppose there was still time to observe,” Hammer Strike spoke up. “So where does that leave us, then?” Shrial asked. “Simple.” Grif Shrugged. “We do what they want, but in the way we want. For instance, they clearly didn’t want Hammer Strike coming along.” “A shame I will be.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Though I’ll have to figure something out in terms of why I’ll be there.” “Didn’t they already give you a reason with their invitation?” Avalon asked. “I would have thought the possibility of opening diplomatic relations would be reason enough to justify your visit, at least as a cover.” “There is someone, from the intel I received, basically being held captive in their lands.” He frowned. “They know I want to find them, so what will they change in the meanwhile?” “So, this worked out well for you?” Grif asked. “It’s added some complications. I’ll have to keep a close eye on them from now on if they’re going to be more active.” “Their ability to remove perception is troubling,” Shrial said. “You’d need a way to counter it for any scouts or spies you send out, so they can keep properly hidden.” “That isn’t the hard part.” Hammer Strike shook his head as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small black tube. “I can alter these to make it cease working. It’ll just take some time. I was able to study it somewhat while they were here, and I know I can perfect it with just this one trip to them.” “I suppose the question now is who do you plan to take with you, then,” Shrial said. “I can’t take Gilda, and I need you here to keep things going and stand as my second,” Grif told Shrial. “So I'll be taking Avalon.” “Finding a lost city full of thousands of years of records and who knows what else?” Avalon chuckled. “It’s like our wedding all over again.” “I’ll naturally be taking Kel’leam, and probably Vital Spark.” “Assuming you can get Trixie to let him go,” Avalon teased. “Yes.” Grif nodded. “I’ll leave the rest to Hammer Strike.” “I’ll look into transportation and provisions.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Then if that’s everything, let’s lower that field and get to work, Grif,” Shrial said. Grif tapped the ring again and the field faded. “Try and keep this quiet as you can.” “Grif, please, we know how to be discreet,” Avalon said. “I’ll need an excuse for the rest of the clan, though, while you’re gone,” Shrial noted. “I’ll think of something,” Grif said. Hammer Strike opened a rift to his side. “I’ll see to my preparations. Keep me updated on yours. And if you can’t find me, Binding is cleared for the info,” he remarked, stepping through. “He really thinks of everything, doesn’t he?” Avalon asked as the rift closed behind the Pony. Shrial shrugged. “That’s why he’s the king, I guess.” Vital Spark frowned as he gazed at his friend. The closet Grif had led them into was small, but that served the Gryphon’s purpose well, especially after the silencing field had been cast over the space. “So, you’re telling me that a diplomatic party has come from the Sphinxes, the mysterious race that we only have the barest traces of knowledge for their existence in Equestria, and they want you and Hammer Strike to visit their capital?” “Yup,” Grif said. “Well, pretty sure they invited Hammer Strike to be polite.” “So, what, you guys need me to help Binding and the others out here while you’re away?” “No, I need you to come.” “Okay. Not that I’m objecting, but … why? Wouldn’t Clover be a better choice as the queen? Not to mention, she’s probably dealt with actual Sphinxes before. I kind of haven’t.” “What if Unity gets attacked while we’re gone?” Grif asked. “We do have an awful lot of heavy hitters outside of her, you know.” “Yes, but do we have a lot of generals?” Grif asked. “You, Pensword, and Hammer Strike have been training a lot of people for the last three years,” he pointed out. “But that’s beside the point. If Hammer Strike says he wants or needs me, I’ll come. It just seems kind of weird to me, I guess, when there are so many others who are better than I am.” “Not entirely,” Grif said. “Not entirely, huh?” Vital chuckled. “Well, you two know best. I assume this is on a need-to-know basis?” “Vital, would you kill someone for your greatest wish to be granted?” “No, but I don’t see how that plays into the conversation.” “Would you steal?” Grif asked. “Grif, you already know I wouldn’t.” “That's why, Vital.” Grif smirked “You’d give up your happiness for your morality. Not everyone can say that.” “In Equestria?” Vital chuckled. “I guess I see your point. You just have to wait for a Tuesday for something to go wrong.” “That's why we needed you,” Grif said. Vital smirked. “So you’re saying the world would have ended if I hadn’t been dragged here by Discord?” “Don’t know about that, but still.” “So, jokes aside, yes or no, can I tell Trixie or do I need to keep it vague?” “Keep it vague,” Grif said. “And don’t mention her too much to them.” “And as far as they know, we’re only what we appear to be?” “I’m hoping,” Grif said Vital nodded. “Then I’ll get ready. How much time do we have?” “Two weeks.” “And should I come ready for a fight?” “I guess. Hard to say, really.” Vital nodded. “Subtle, then. Got it.” “Anything else?” “You tell me.” “Any questions, I mean.” “Nah. I think I’m good. You guys can brief me on anything else when you’re ready. Though I’m guessing I may need to brush up on my riddles,” he mused. “Do what seems prudent. I have preparations to make.” Vital Spark nodded. “All right. I assume you’ll call me in the usual way when it’s time?” “Yeah.” “Then let’s get to work.” “So, to make sure I understand this correctly, you, Hammer Strike, and Vital Spark are all going on an adventure to open diplomatic ties with a race that hasn’t reared its head in thousands of years, but you want me to stay here in Unity instead of coming with you?” Pensword asked of the Gryphon. “We need to keep the party going out small, and your talents are needed here.” Pensword sighed. “And I can’t even try to use the excuse of a representative of the Night Court, since Hammer Strike embodies both.” He smiled ruefully. “I guess everyone has to have a time to miss going on an adventure. And we both know we wouldn’t go against Hammer Strike’s orders, regardless. I assume you’re here to apprise Lunar Fang and Fox Feather of the situation, then?” “Yes, Lunar Fang.” Grif nodded. “She’ll get more of a briefing from the Shields later, but forewarned is forearmed.” “Bonnie knows I’ll have enough responsibility here dealing with the children and catching up on my studies. I still have a boatload of quotes to look over for those airship technicians, too.” “Also, I think it would be wise for me to take Day Moon with me, give him a chance to see a bit of the world and learn some lessons directly.” Pensword grit his teeth, then took a few calming breaths. “You would think this would be easier with time.” He sighed. “Day Moon has already proven he can handle himself. And I’m not going to make the same mistake twice after my last outburst. You are his master, and it’s Bonnie’s will and that of the Winds that he serve under you. I’ll probably worry like an old nanny goat, but I have no right to deny you.” “I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Grif assured. “He needs to get used to long travel anyway.” “You’re not taking the Gantrithor?” “We were requested not to.” “Well, that’s going to be interesting. Do you think it’s a trap?” “I think everything’s a trap.” “If you said anything else, you’d have been dead.” Pensword gave a lopsided grin, baring one fang to his friend. “Good to know you’ve kept your head about you. Without our experience, Taze and Matthew would be going off all excited without seeing the danger signs . The few rumors I’ve heard about Sphinxes in Equis and on Earth makes me feel like I’d better have the New World Fleet on standby.” “You be careful, okay?” Pensword chuckled. “And you bring back some war trophies if any of the old adventures hold true. Also, I’ll keep one of Chrysalis’ wings safe for you.” “Don’t be a hero,” Grif said. “Too late for that,” Pensword chortled. “But I won’t be performing any dumb heroic stunts either. I’ll do my part to defend the Duchy of Everfree and Ponyville regions, and drive her out of these lands if she shows up.” “Remember you still have Clover around.” “And a few other power houses. I know.” He smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure everyone has their fun.” “I meant remember she technically has dibs on the kill.” “Then I can go after any of her quasi-generals.” He spat. “If you can even call them that.” “Just don’t do anything silly.” “Got it. Will do.” Pensword winked playfully at his friend. Grif chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll talk to you later.” “Sounds good. Rest assured, I’ll at least be at the send off. Send me updates when you can, okay?” Grif chuckled. “We’ll see.” Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he scanned over the gauges of his new airship. It wasn’t going to be a permanent addition. He planned to decommission it afterwards, especially since he was unsure if the Sphinxes would tamper with it when they weren’t looking. He didn’t want to spend every waking moment keeping an eye on things. He sighed to himself as he drew close to the docks he had built. At the moment, he would have to park it near the edge, but it would be stable enough for temporary use. Afterwards, he would need to check over New Unity to ensure its safety until he returned. Though with those newly returned allies, it wouldn’t be much of an issue. Thankfully, with the augments in his head, flying an airship almost felt automatic, especially when he was able to see the blueprints for it. Once he knew exactly how it worked, it was just a matter of controlling it. And given his augments were telling him what to do, it just left his own movements to follow it. The ship hovered patiently next to the dock, its propellers whirring gently as the sleek curves of the metal housing surrounding the zeplin-like construct of the blimp portion glinted in the sun. The Sphinxes asked for something smaller and less noisy than the Gantrithor. They didn’t specify anything else about their mode of transport. Once he’d reached the port, Pegasi on duty flew to tie the mooring lines and hold the vessel in place. Now that they had their transport, it was simply a matter of final orders and a hasty departure. “You know, I didn’t expect you were the type to go out and buy a yacht,” Clover spoke up as she teleported in. “Special occasion,” Hammer Strike replied with a small smirk as he turned to face her. “Grif received an … interesting invitation, which was then provided to myself as well. Sphinxes are opening contact.” “They’ve been quiet for so long. Kind of suspicious,” Clover said. “Oh, definitely.” He nodded. “Which is why we aren’t taking the important ship. After this one has been used, it’s going to be decommissioned.” “It’ll be fun to see the nobles weep at how easily you can buy and dispose of one.” “Oh, it’ll be amusing,” he chuckled. “But yeah, this visit has some more importance than I expected, given some information that I received. Oh, also, Broker is around again.” “He’s still alive?” Clover asked, a little shocked. “Surprisingly, yes. It appears his strain is very long-lived. While he was around, he ended up finding the location of the Sphinxes, and in turn found someone else with them.” He sighed. “E. She somehow survived the empire’s collapse, and is basically being held by them.” “So, this is a retrieval mission.” “Basically. So, I need you to remain on alert and keep an eye on things around New Unity. You may have to thaumically do some scanning in case the Sphinxes leave someone behind cloaked, but that’s a low chance, thankfully.” “I’ll be on guard.” She nodded. “We all know an attack is likely.” “Yeah. You know how to contact me if it’s an emergency. We should be leaving within a week or so. I’ll keep you updated on everything.” “Yeah, yeah. If, on the astronomical chance, something happens that me, Ainz, and Binding can’t deal with, I'll call you.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that.” “So,” Vital said as he eyed the machine. “Just how fast do these glorified zeppelins go?” “I modified it slightly, but it’s mostly a commercial model with some military enhancements,” Hammer Strike replied. “As much as I wanted to modify it further, I’d rather not risk it, given who we will be dealing with.” “I’d say that’s a pretty safe choice,” Vital Spark agreed. “Not to assume your job for you, Hammer Strike, but I suppose motherly instinct is driving me to ask. Have you briefed the Shields yet?” Avalon asked. “They have an idea of what is going on, and are on alert.” Hammer Strike nodded. “I’ve covered everything that needed to be covered on my end.” “Same,” Grif said. “The clan is aware I'll be gone and what the pecking order is.” “I’m sure Thalia will have plenty of fun working with Shrial and the rest of the elders.” Avalon giggled. “Dare I ask what she means by that?” Vital Spark asked. “Better if you don’t,” Pensword said. “Let’s not invite Murphy if we can help it.” He sighed and looked to his friends. “We’re going to miss you around here. Promise not to get lost?” Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’ve got a lock on here, so there isn’t much issue there anymore.” Pensword nodded, then looked to Grif. “If there’s a fight, give them hell for me.” Then he knelt and laid a wing over Day Moon before placing his forehead against his foster son’s. “And you stay safe.” “I will. I promise.” Day Moon nuzzled his foster father back. “We’ll do fine.” “And we’ll wait with bated breath to hear all about it when you get back.” Day Moon Smirked. “Maybe this time I’ll have an actual trophy.” Pensword chuckled. “All right. Get going before my instincts drive me to change my mind.” He gave his foster son one last kiss on the forehead. “Bonnie watch over you, Day Moon.” “I’m sure she will.” “Is that everyone, then?” Vital Spark asked. A familiar bird’s cry broke through the stillness of the air. Moments later, Aria had alighted on one of Vital Spark’s foci. “Aria, what are you doing here?” The cryophoenix whistled and chirped. “Do you have any idea what your grandmother would do to me if she found out I let you get into danger?” he demanded. Aria raised her head hautilly. “Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady.” Avalon laughed. “Let her come, Vital Spark. I’m sure Snowy could use the company. And a magic caster without their familiar is but a piece of their full potential.” “I don’t like it,” Vital Spark groused as he fixed the phoenix with a glare. Aria preened her feathers and pointedly ignored him. “Snowy will keep an eye on her, if that makes you feel any better.” “Not much,” Vital groused. “But I suppose it’ll have to do. I know better than to put her in a cage and lock her up. She’d probably just try to follow us anyway, once Trixie let her out.” Aria trilled smugly. “Is this what I can expect when I finally have kids?” “I mean, you’ll find out sooner than later, right?” Grif asked. “That’s going to be up to Trixie, I think.” Pensword chuckled. “Just don’t be afraid to make a few moves on your end, Vital Spark. Mares like it when we take the lead sometimes.” “And I’m ready to go now. See you guys on board!” Vital said hastily as he started up the gangplank. Grif gave Shrial and Gilda each a hug and a kiss on the beak. “I’m sorry I likely won’t be around when the cubs are born … again,” Grif told Gilda. “You have bigger things to worry about right now. We’ll manage,” Gilda said, then smirked. “After all, you know how tough I can be.” “Kalima and Cheshire have things covered,” Shrial promised. “We’ll make sure everything is just right.” “Never was any Gryphon so blessed.” He smiled at them. “I’ll see you soon.” Hammer Strike looked on as those boarding did so before turning to Clover. “Want anything while I’m out?” “Well, you’ll be out near Paintsville. Pick me up a bottle or two of their whiskey.” Clover shrugged. “Can do. If there’re any special ingredients or books, I’ll be sure to grab them as well.” “No, I think I’m good. Show them why you're the king.” “Now that’s easy.” Hammer Strike smirked. “All right. If that’s all, then I’ll be off,” he finished, heading up the board himself before making his way to the helm. “Prepare for departure,” he called out to those on. “Not like it’s going to be fast enough to knock you off your feet in the first place.”