//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12: The World Is Watching 
// Story: Dawn of a New Age 
// by GTthe4th 
//------------------------------//





(Trotsylvania, Hussar Barracks)

Captain Rippler stood in his quarters, staring out an open window at the city below as a nearby fire crackled merrily. Thunder rolled in the distance as the skies grew darker, and rain was already starting to pour down upon the streets below and thrum against the shutters of his window. To the south, a fog had started to form along the edges of the channel leading to the Celestial Sea, and would be rolling in at any moment.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the scent that drifted towards him: pines to the north and west, the salt in the air from the water to the south, and the deep heady smell of rain fresh from the heavens. To this day, he would never understand how the Pegasi did it, but they had turned weather management into an art form of pure civility and grace. Equestria had some of the finest Pegasi weather teams in the world, but here in the Colonies, in Trotsylvania...here were the masters, and their works sang with a hundred booms of thunder and a whistling of the wind.

Joining the chorus of thunder was the steady, perpetual ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, ever faithful in its sole duty. It had been a gift from General Snow Drift for Rippler’s loyalty and devotion to the cause of the Hussars many years ago.

Nowadays it served only two real purposes: to calm his troubled mind, and to emphasize the dwindling time he had left to finish the job his forefathers had started. Each ticking click was yet another reminder of how far the Hussars had fallen from their glory, and how much farther they would continue to fall into the passage of time.

He squeezed the helmet in his grasp tighter to his side, opening his eyes once more and glaring at the approaching storm, before turning his gaze to the southwest.

Towards the Dragon Lands.

Towards the Dragon City in Halflinger Grove.

Such an affront to Colonial sovereignty could not and would not stand, not while Rippler commanded the Hussars. Trotsylvania had not given its sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters to fight Celestia’s old wars just to be cast aside and forgotten, and the Dragons to be given back their lands. It was a disgrace! It was hypocrisy and lunacy at their finest, and the Colonies wouldn’t stand for it.

So when Mouser had sent his report back to the General, there was only one choice in the end.

Rippler lightly touched the hilt of his sheathed sword with a contemplative smirk on his face. Only one choice, indeed.

There was a loud knock at his door, and Rippler craned his neck back. “Enter!” he called.

The door creaked open, and a young Hussar private stepped inside, trotting on all fours like some commoner Pony from Equestria. Rippler had always thought it to be crude, but it served as a reminder for all Hussars of their past. All of the lower ranks walked on all fours, and only when they were deemed worthy would they be taught the way of the bipeds --- the true way of the warrior, like the Minotaurs, the Diamond Dogs, the Abyssinians, and the Yetis before them.

The private snapped to attention as soon as he had entered the room, remaining silent as he awaited permission to speak. Captain Rippler turned around, placing the helmet on a nearby dresser and crossing his forehooves behind his back, before facing the Hussar with a straight face. “Report.”

“Corporal Mouser has reported in again, sir,” the private said. “The teleportation runes have been placed, and not a moment too soon. Princess Celestia and her entourage have arrived at the Dragon City.”

The Hussar had expected many potential reactions to the message, and had wisely planned for each and every one. He had not expected the reaction he received, however, as Rippler smirked and reached for the helmet once more, lifting it up to see his reflection on its polished silver surface.

“Finally,” he whispered. “It begins.” He looked over the helmet at the Hussar, before carefully placing the helmet over his head. “Tell me, Hussar, have you ever fought a Dragon before?”

The private blinked. “No sir, I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Now the private’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me, sir? But...but I only finished training a month ago!”

“We’re soldiers. We never stop training, even when we are old and ready to die,” Rippler answered, stepping towards the private and towering over him. “Yes, or no?”

The private gulped and nodded as he followed his commander out of the room. “Uh, y-yes sir, that’d be...good.”

“You sound afraid,” Rippler said, nodding his head towards two other bipedal Hussars as they passed him by. “Fear is the mind-killer, kid. But it’s also the sharpest weapon in your arsenal. You better learn how to control that fear, or the Dragons will know exactly how to exploit it when the time comes.”

“Y-yes sir!” the private replied, moving back into step with the captain as they turned a corner. Just where were they going, anyway?

As if sensing his thoughts, Rippler chuckled. “You have a choice, kid. Keep walking with me and get invited to join what could be the beginning of something great, or take a left at the next junction and go back to scrubbing floors. You’ve got about five seconds.”

The private froze mid-step, even as Rippler kept walking. The corridor walls around the young colt seemed to close in, and he almost felt like everypony around him was staring at him with judgmental gazes. On one hoof, he’d be safer here, but on the other hoof, he had joined the Hussars to protect his nation, his city, his honor, and his family. If the captain was offering him a chance to do just that, then by Faust he would--

“Time’s up, kid,” Rippler called, opening a door a several meters ahead.

“Sir, wait!” the private yelled, galloping towards him and skidding to a stop. “Sir, I request permission to join you on your mission to the Dragon City. I’m good with a sword and crossbow, and I think I can be useful. I-if you’ll have me, sir, that is.”

Rippler gave a toothy smile and patted the private on the shoulder. “You’ve got guts, kid, I’ll give you that much.” Then he frowned, and shoved the private back. “Guts, but very little brain. You wouldn’t last a second against a newborn hatchling, much less an adult Dragon. Now bugger off, this is work for your superiors.” With that, he stepped through the doorway and slammed it shut on the poor colt’s face.

Snickering as if he had just heard a fantastic joke, Rippler stepped outside the barracks and into the damp air, watching as hundreds of Winged Hussars began gathering together and forming ranks. More were still on approach from all over the city, all of them called for one single purpose: to answer the call to arms from their captain and the General.

There was not a single four-legged Pony among them, and Rippler couldn’t be prouder. These were not some Equestrian whelps; these were Hussars, real ones, and they were disciplined and honorable. The adamantine wings that glistened on their backs would forever be a symbol of their might and prestige, and a warning to their enemies. They were perfection itself.

One Winged Hussar, upon seeing Captain Rippler’s approach, halted his platoon and stood them at ease. He then hurried over to Rippler and saluted. “Sir! Three battalions have already arrived, the rest are on their way. We’re already ahead of schedule.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant Frostbite; carry on,” Rippler replied, saluting back.

Frostbite glanced to the side and then asked, “Apologies captain, but may I have a word with you?”

“You know that you can ask anything of me, Frostbite,” Rippler replied, walking over to a pile of crates nearby and eyeing the lid on one of them with greedy eyes. “What is it?”

“Well sir, I’ve read the reports made by our spies, and while I agree that a show of force is necessary, I’m hesitant on the actual plan.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Rippler asked, putting his hooves on either side of the crate and feeling for a latch.

“It’s a big city, sir,” Frostbite answered. “A very big city, one armed to the teeth and defended by many. Even if any one of these Hussars here could slay a dozen enemies, I don’t think we have the forces necessary to properly lay siege to a city of that size. Where are our siege weapons? Where are the cannons and trebuchets? Where’s our artillery?”

“Hmph. Trebuchets...what is this, the Lunar Rebellion ages?” Rippler grunted, opening the crate and peering inside. “We’ve got all the firepower we need right...here.” He reached in and pulled out a long iron tube fitted with a wooden handle at the end and reinforced with brass. Plugged into a slot at the top was a blue thaumatic battery, and at the bottom was a trigger lever specially made for Pony hooves.

Rippler smirked. A storm was indeed approaching, only this time it would be of magic and steel.





(Warfang Temple, dining hall)

After welcoming the Equestrians to the city, Terrador had led the delegates straight to the Temple, whereupon he had ordered the Moles to prepare a feast for their guests, as well as rooms. Celestia reassured him that they’d be fine with whatever was offered to them, but Terrador’s persistence in the matter could not be persuaded against, nor could Cyril’s insistence on being as formal as possible, much to Ember’s consternation.

At the very least, Blueblood was enjoying himself, and had naturally struck up a conversation with the Guardian of Ice even as they were led on a tour through the Temple. What had started as a simple discussion on the Dragons had turned into a more long-winded discussion on history, politics, and the usual “good” graces of the nobility, which sent many pairs of eyes rolling up to the heavens, including Celestia’s. The sheer absurdity of it all had been enough for one member of the group, however, and Sparx excused himself shortly afterwards to “freshen up”.

Like Starlight and her friends before them, the delegates were given a tour of the Temple and were introduced to Dragon and Mole culture. This one wasn’t nearly as comprehensive, but it served all involved parties well as an effective time killer before the luncheon. Eventually, all of them were summoned to the dining hall by some of the Temple staff, and the tour ended (which suited Cyril just fine, since they had run out of places where the Temple wasn’t already restored to its previously mint condition).

The word “feast” could not even begin to describe the spread of food and drink that lay before the visiting Ponies and Dragons as they were led to their designated seats. For the Ponies’ side, there were salads, fruits, pastries, and sandwiches aplenty, arranged in marvelous dishes that made even Celestia’s eyes widen in surprise. For the Dragons, several hearty meat platters were made available, and the scent that wafted over to their nostrils made almost all of them save for Ember drool.

Once all were seated, with the Ponies on one side and Dragons on the other, Terrador rose up from the head of the table and raised a claw. “My friends, guests from Equestria, and honored guests, I bid you all welcome,” he began, his normally booming voice now more restrained. “Today marks a glorious new era for Warfang, and hopefully a prosperous new one for Equestria as well. For us in Warfang, we have fought long and hard for a day such as this to grace us, and now that it’s finally here, we can all rest and be at ease. We are among friends now.” He motioned to Celestia. “And as for Equestria, once more I must extend my thanks for welcoming us with open arms...or perhaps, open hooves. It is nice to see a race of civilized beings with no intention of murdering us all in our sleep, for once.”

Stargazer chuckled and smirked, raising his glass slightly towards Terrador even as Celestia tittered into a hoof. Blueblood looked slightly scandalized at Terrador’s words, but he quickly regained his outward appearance of calm and nodded in agreement.

Terrador then turned to Ember. “And of course, we cannot forget the Dragons of the Eastern Lair. To know that we aren’t the only ones left of our race is...well, it’s a miracle, and a relief. All of us are eager to learn more of your nation and your history.”

Ember nodded. “Same here,” she replied.

Volteer couldn’t resist the opening. “I always knew there would be universal constants within the multiverse, and that we were one of them.”

“Well now, look who’s being egotistical now?” Cyril muttered.

Terrador glared at both of them, and they shut their mouths (literally in Volteer’s case). Ember snickered and leaned back in her chair. If this was how the Guardians acted behind closed doors, she was going to like it here.

Finally, Terrador motioned towards Starlight, Rainbow, Pinkie, and Fluttershy. “And as for you four, you once again have our thanks. You may not feel that you have done a whole lot here, but rest assured, what you have done is ease our once troubled minds after such a dark time in our lives, and for that, we can never truly repay you. Our home, and all that is in it, is yours.”

“Does that include the krytos?!” Pinkie exclaimed, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a large, hopeful smile.

Terrador let out a laugh. “Yes, even the krytos. Once our negotiations are complete we’ll send you off with two bags of our finest kryto seeds, with our compliments.”

“YIPPEE!” she cried, leaping out of her seat and into the rafters high above. When she didn’t return, Rainbow craned her neck upwards and raised an eyebrow. Pinkie was hanging onto one of the collar beams and looking down sheepishly. “Little help...?” she giggled.

Spotlight laughed and took to the air, helping the hyper Pony back down to the table. Amused glances were exchanged by all, save for Blueblood, who was no longer hiding his embarrassment as he planted a hoof to his forehead with a resigned sigh.

Stargazer nudged him in the side. “Ah, loosen up, Blue-y,” he whispered with a grin. “The Princess prefers her politics this way.”

“Once,” Blueblood muttered, closing his eyes. “Just once would I enjoy a simple luncheon without antics of any sort. Just calm discussion between two nations. Is that too much to ask for?”

Stargazer gave him a deadpan look. “We’re Ponies,” he stated, as if that was all the answer Blueblood deserved.

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “...Of course, how foolish of me to forget.” He glanced over to Pinkie, who was giving Spotlight a massive bear-hug (as well as receiving one from her Light Dragon counterpart). “Today’s going be another one of those days, I’d wager,” he finished with another sigh.

After Pinkie and Spotlight had once again settled into their chairs, Celestia rose and dipped her head towards Terrador, lifting up a glass of wine with her magic. “A toast...to friends, to family, and to a fresh start.”

The Guardians raised their glasses as well, followed by everyone else at the table. “To all of those and more,” Cyril proclaimed.

Ember nodded. “And, because my Dragons would kill me if I didn’t say it, here’s to the great chow.”

Terrador hummed and shrugged. “I can drink to that.”

Just as they had all taken a sip of their wine, the doors to the dining hall opened, revealing three figures: two tall Cheetahs and a diminutive but sturdy-looking Mole in formal military dress. Terrador raised his glass to them. “Ah, Chief Prowlus, Hunter, and General Mason, glad to see you join us.”

“Could’ve given us a little more warning,” the grizzled chieftain of the Cheetahs grumbled, walking over to the table and taking one of three reserved seats. “And you also could’ve waited.”

“And let the food get cold?” Blades snarked with a grin, only to get a light slap in the back of his head from Flashwing’s tail for his troubles.

Hunter and Mason moved to the table with little complaint, and both bowed at the waist towards Celestia, Blueblood, and Stargazer. “It is an honor to have you with us, my friends,” Hunter said, his soothing voice a sharp contrast to Prowlus’s growls.

“To whom do we have the pleasure of meeting?” Blueblood asked as the two of them sat down.

“Chief Prowlus, the leader of the Cheetahs; Hunter, one of his finest soldiers and a friend of the Guardians and to me; and General Mason, leader of the Moles in Warfang,” Spyro replied.

Prowlus looked around the table, raising an eyebrow at all the Dragons and Ponies gathered together (and doing a double-take upon seeing Fluttershy, to Hunter’s amusement) before clearing his throat. “Quite the, uh, gathering we have here,” he grunted.

“It is certainly a lot of people,” Celestia admitted. “And I doubt that we need this many for the negotiations.”

Blackout nodded. “We Rangers will be returning to our duties after lunch, and I’m sure Starlight and her friends would like a chance to see the city while the delegates meet in private.”

“Yes please!” Rainbow said with an emphatic nod. She didn’t relish sitting in on more politics again.

“Actually, I would like to request that Starlight be present during the negotiations,” Volteer interjected, giving her a wizened smile. “Earlier today she had brought up an intriguing proposal regarding something called ‘thaumatic batteries’ and their potential to recharge our own magical stores, and I would like a chance to discuss the matter with her in more detail, along with potential trade deals and any specialized training regarding them. If of course she doesn’t mind, that is.”

Starlight shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Splendid,” Celestia said. “We’re already making progress.”

“Um, hate to interrupt all this,” Ember began, motioning to all the food on the table. “But Sword-Guy’s right, the food’s getting cold. Maybe we should save the negotiations for the negotiating table, and dine at the dining table?”

“Quite right, my dear,” Cyril agreed, stabbing a slab of meat with a talon and lifting it over to his plate. “Now, let’s dig in before--”

The doors opened once more, drawing everyone’s attention to them just as a Dragon guard flew in, diving low and landing in front of the table. Two Moles hurried after him, yells of protest dying on their lips as they saw the luncheon now officially being disturbed, before resigning themselves to their fate as the senior guards within the room glared at them.

The new Dragon bowed low, sweeping his wings back. He then lifted his head and said, “M-my apologies for disturbing, Guardians, but a matter of urgency has come up.”

Cyril sighed, looking down at his plate with a glum, disappointed gaze. “...Before that happens,” he finished lamely.

Terrador raised an eyebrow. “What is it, soldier?”

“There is another Pony at the eastern gate, sir,” the guard reported. “He’s heavily-armed, and he and his party are requesting an immediate audience with the Equestrian delegates, specifically one by the name of ‘Princess Celestia’.”

Knowing immediately that the luncheon was ruined for good, Pinkie face-planted into her plate and sniffed, with Fluttershy patting her back.

Celestia frowned and stood up. “I am she,” she spoke. “Who is it that wishes to speak?”

The guard bowed to her. “Your Highness, he never gave me a name, but judging by his appearance, I believe him to be a soldier of high rank and status. He did, however, tell me whose interests he represents: a nation known as the Frontier Colonies.”

At the mention of that name, every face from the Equestrian delegation soured, while Ember’s turned downright enraged. Before anyone could say anything, she slammed her claws onto the table and hissed, “I knew it, I knew it, I KNEW IT! I knew those freaks of nature would swoop in and ruin everything!”

“Ember, please calm down,” Celestia said, sending her a narrow look.

“I AM CALM!”

“I guess Fancy Pants didn’t do as well as he had hoped in appeasing these idiots,” Blueblood muttered, swishing the wine in his glass around before draining it completely. He then hoofed the glass over to a nearby Mole waiter. “Fill it up, please. As high as it’ll go, etiquette be damned. I’ll be needing brain fuel for this mess.”

“Forgive our curiosity and lack of knowledge, but who or what are these ‘Frontier Colonies’?” Volteer asked. “And why do they send you all into a persnickety tizzy?” He nodded to Ember. “Especially you, Miss Ember.”

Celestia sighed, setting her wine glass down next to her plate. “An independent nation that split off from Equestria long ago. They are war-mongering and often unreasonable with their demands, and above all else, they despise me and my sister, but more-so me.”

“Why?” Spyro asked, eyes wide.

The Princess looked at him, and their gazes locked. For a moment, Spyro didn’t see an Alicorn Princess, but instead a being of great power and wisdom, with a heart burning from both great passion and even greater sorrow. He saw visions of fire, and many years of strife, self-loathing, and conflict. And then once more he saw the purity of spirit and the desire to right many horrible wrongs, and the fires vanished, replaced by gentle light and a soothing touch.

Then she looked away, and answered, “That is a long and...terribly tragic story. One that I do not wish to recount at this time.”

Seeing the haunted look in her eyes and hearing the somber tone of her voice made Spyro wince. Even though they had only just met, he somehow felt like she could relate to him in more ways than one, and that thought scared him to his core. He gave a weak nod and looked away, feeling Cynder drape a wing over him.

“But,” Blueblood added, taking a gulp of his recently-refilled wine. “Gah...BUT, they are not entirely without reason. My counterpart Count Fancy Pants and I have managed to table several deals with them before.”

“Says you!” Ember bellowed, startling everyone at the table. “Those...those things nearly wiped the Dragons out centuries ago, and would’ve gone even further had Celestia not stopped them!” She glared daggers at Celestia, who merely stared back without any emotion.

Starlight grimaced, and glanced at her friends. Pinkie looked about ready to start crying, while Fluttershy hid behind her mane out of fear of seeing Ember so angry. Rainbow looked more confused than anything, and was looking between Celestia, Ember, and Terrador.

Terrador frowned. Perhaps this world wasn’t as peaceful as he had hoped. It seemed even the concept of war wasn’t lost on the Ponies. “That’s...troubling to hear,” he rumbled.

“As it was troubling to live through,” Celestia answered gravely, rising from her seat. “And if they’ve arrived here, then this could mean trouble. We can finish this at a later date, this new matter must be resolved at once.”

“I concur,” Blackout spoke, also rising up. “If these new Ponies are dangerous, then this is a security issue. By your leave, Grandmaster, my team and I will meet you at the eastern gate.”

Terrador nodded. “You’re dismissed, captain.”

Blackout squared his shoulders and turned to his team. “Rangers, on me!”

The other five Dragons wordlessly got off their seats and hurried after him, all of them putting on a more serious countenance. Even Spotlight looked ready to jump into danger at a moment’s notice. Starlight, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow watched them leave with a glum look, and this time Pinkie did cry a little. In just moments, a happy event, a party even, had been ruined, and now there was a chance things could get even worse.

Even as they watched the Rangers leave, the Guardians, Spyro and Cynder all rose from their seats, joining the Equestrians in leaving the room. Prowlus sputtered in indignation, having only just served himself some food, before Mason and Hunter practically dragged him away from the table to join their respective troops along the walls. Letting out a worried exhale, Starlight soon joined them, followed by Rainbow, Pinkie, and Fluttershy soon afterwards.

All of them were thinking the same thing: that they really hoped things wouldn’t get worse.





(Warfang, eastern gate)

Two pairs of eyes stared at each other across the field, one angry and the other challenging.

Rippler narrowed his eyes at the Dragon atop the gate and sneered, while the Dragon merely huffed and crossed his heavily-armored arms. It had only been a few minutes since the guard’s partner had flown off to that large structure atop the hell in the center of the city, and now all Rippler could do was wait for his message to be delivered. Of course, that still left one Dragon guard staring down at him with a look of smug superiority, as well as a gathering crowd on the walls joining him.

And yet, Rippler had to be patient. General Snow Drift’s orders were clear: speak only to the Sun Witch. All the rest were beneath him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, before there was a commotion coming from the walls. Six smaller Dragons flying in from the Temple landed on the wall, glaring down at the Hussars with distrust in their eyes. The six Unicorn Hussars that had teleported into Halflinger Grove with Rippler stood at attention as Rippler took two steps forward. Harsh mutterings and light gasps erupted from the crowd on the walls as three enormous Dragons perched themselves upon the battlements, followed by a long train of Equestrian Solar Guard Pegasi, smaller Dragons, and finally Celestia herself. Trailing just behind her was a very angry Ember, along with her own Dragons.

Rainbow and Fluttershy dropped Pinkie and Starlight off next to Celestia, and peered over the edge of the wall at the Hussars. Pinkie gasped when she saw that all seven of them were standing upright on their hind legs, while Rainbow and Fluttershy frowned at the sheer amount of weapons they wore.

Starlight looked up at Celestia with concern in her gaze and asked, “Princess, do you know them?”

“Winged Hussars from Trotsylvania,” Celestia murmured. “And, if I’m not mistaken, that is their current captain, Captain Rippler. He’s a brute.”

Ember snorted. “That’s one way of saying it.”

“How did he get here so quickly?” Rainbow asked. “Those are Unicorns down there, and I don’t see any airships.”

“Teleportation, most likely,” Starlight replied. Her horn glowed for a moment, then she nodded and pointed to the treeline. “Yup, there’s several runes inscribed into the dirt past those trees, crude but powerful. Lots of them.”

“Lots of runes, but only seven Hussars,” Stargazer muttered, putting a hoof to his chin. “Doesn’t seem right.”

“Captain Stargazer,” Celestia said, turning to him. “Take your troops and place them on the walls. Be ready for anything.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Stargazer saluted and flew off, leading his Pegasi troops along the walls.

Terrador, who was listening in along with his fellow Guardians, glanced at the Princess. “Is he reasonable at least, as your nephew said before?”

Blueblood shook his head. “I always found their general to be the more reasonable of the two. Rippler is indeed a brute, one that dishonors all Unicorns with his mere existence.”

“Well, this’ll be interesting...” Blackout muttered from his perch.

Spyro and Cynder sent each other a worried glance, before Spyro asked, “Will we have to fight again, Terrador?”

Terrador looked down at the Purple Dragon and sighed as he saw the fear in Spyro’s eyes, knowing that it wasn’t born from worry, but from the fear of himself and his powers. “If we can avoid it, we will,” the Earth Guardian replied, hoping that it would be enough.

Spyro could only turn away and look down at Rippler with a frown.

Celestia took a step forward, and all conversation ceased. Staring down over the wall, she called out, “Captain Rippler, you’re certainly a long ways from home. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Rippler smirked up at her, and placed his forehooves behind his back. “So, you finally show your face, Sun Witch. Let’s cut the pleasantries, shall we? We both know why I’m here.”

“The Colonies are free to have any foreign policy they want,” Celestia replied, leaning forward. “That said, I very much doubt that approaching the Dragons armed for war is the right choice.”

“It is if the choice matches the intention,” Rippler retorted, pointing up at her. “The Frontier Colonies wish to make it known that we protest against these negotiations between the Dragons of the Eastern Lair, Equestria, and these alien creatures who have invaded our fair realm.”

“On what grounds?” Celestia asked.

“On the grounds that Halfinger Grove is not Dragon territory, nor does it belong to Equestria or any other nation save for one.” He popped open a satchel at his side and pulled out a scroll, unravelling it for all to see. “Under the Articles of Surrender, over four hundred years ago, the Dragons of the Eastern Lair relinquished their right to these lands to the Frontier Colonies, who had won it fairly and justly by right of conquest during the Dragon Wars. If anyone should be leading these negotiations, it should be the Colonies, not Equestria.” He rolled up the scroll once more. “You Alicorns have no jurisdiction here; you’re trespassing on sovereign land claimed and owned by the Frontier Colonies.”

“That is absurd!” Celestia scoffed, her nostrils flaring. “The Colonies have had no interests in these lands ever since the Dragon Wars ended.”

“And yet the Eastern Lair never made any attempt to reclaim them, whether by force or by legal means,” Rippler shot back. “As such, Halflinger Grove and everything in it belongs to the Colonies, including now this city, and you are infringing on the Colonies’ sovereignty. Our demands are simple: you must leave immediately and leave these matters to the Colonies. We will take it from here.”

“Bull!” Ember bellowed, pushing herself to the front of the crowd and raising the Bloodstone Scepter. “This city is a Dragon city, and we have a right to be here as much as anyone else!”

“Um, Dragon Lord Ember,” Blueblood whispered to her. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time to get worked u--”

Ember whirled around and snarled at him, and Blueblood took a step back in surprise, just as Celestia came to his aid. “Ember,” she said, her soothing voice reaching the Dragon Lord’s roiling mind. “Remain calm, and we will sort out this problem.”

Ember took several deep breaths before sighing, turning to the Princess. “I won’t do it, Celestia,” she said. “I won’t be the Dragon Lord that surrendered our honor to those...pigs a second time.”

“I know,” Celestia whispered, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll control yourself.”

Ember could only nod slowly.

“If I may interject for one moment,” Volteer said, stepping forward.

Rippler raised an eyebrow. “And who is this?”

“Guardian Volteer of the Electricity Element, one of the three Guardians of Warfang, at your service,” Volteer answered, dipping his head towards the captain out of respect. “If you’ll permit me, I have something to say here which may solve our little conundrum.”

“Volteer, what are you thinking?” Cyril asked. Volteer ignored him.

“Then say it,” Rippler called.

“Very well. I’ll admit, my expertise lies more in the scientific and in the explorations of the unknown, but I am also no stranger to matters of legalese.” He grinned. “You said that you own all of Halflinger Grove and ‘everything in it’. The problem with this is that we are not in Halflinger Grove.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow, as did Rippler. “Explain yourself,” the captain demanded.

“You see, when we came to this world via mass geological teleportation, we brought with us a large portion of our own world, which deposited itself onto this one and changed the landscape around it to fit in,” Volteer explained, raising a claw triumphantly. “From what I can tell, these lands used to only be forest and the occasional pond, but now that we’re here, there’s also plains and hills. Simply put, you’re standing on the last remnant of our world, the Dragon Realms, and therefore, not Halflinger Grove. It is you who are on sovereign Dragon territory.”

“Ha!” Ember laughed, pumping a fist into the air. 

“You tell him, old timer!” Rainbow added, high-fiving her.

Rippler cackled. “What rot!” he exclaimed. “You mean to tell me that your argument is that because the land was geologically changed, the land has geographically changed as well? What of floods? What of fires, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, and terraforming? All of these bring great changes and destruction to the land, yet the land ultimately remains the same unless it’s totally wiped out from existence, which isn’t the case here. So what if we’re standing on ground from another world? Ground is ground, and as you said, it fit itself into Halflinger Grove perfectly. Therefore, it is an extension of the land that was already here, not a replacement.”

Volteer’s face quickly fell from one of triumph to one of deep thought. “I mean, that’s...um, you see...erm, hmm...” He leaned over and whispered to Cyril, “Hate to admit it, but the lad’s got a point...”

Cyril shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

“Enough of this!” Rippler suddenly yelled, regaining everyone’s attention. “Princess Celestia, you have heard the Colonies’ demands. What say you? Will you leave this city and these lands?”

Celestia sighed. “We will not. Regardless of the legal issues at hoof, and the Colonies’ supposed claim to Halflinger Grove, the fact that the city of Warfang is here at all is a matter that involves the whole world, not just the Colonies. To say that only one group can negotiate an alliance with them is absurd and unrealistic. So, while we acknowledge your demands, Equestria will not leave.”

“Nor will the Dragons of the Eastern Lair!” Ember added, snorting out a puff of smoke from her nostrils. “There are Dragons here, and Dragons stick together.”

As if by fate, a cold breeze drifted past them all, and Cynder shivered. She looked at Spyro, who looked more miserable than ever. Right then and there she knew that they’d have to fight again, and that Spyro wasn’t looking forward to it.

Even in a world full of peace there was still conflict.

Rippler grinned. He and the General had expected these answers, and they had prepared accordingly for it. “Are you certain you don’t wish to reconsider?”

“Yes,” Celestia replied.

“Then you leave me with very little choice. Hussars, now!”

Without warning, the horns on all six Unicorn Hussars behind Rippler lit up, and the forest behind them glowed bright cyan. Before anyone could react, the tell-tale sounds of quick marching could be heard, and out from the forest poured an entire army of Winged Hussars, all bipedal and armed just as well as Rippler and his Unicorns. Each one held a massive tower shield on their left forehoof, while in the other they held longswords, spears, or halberds, all sorted into platoons. The Hussars quickly formed up into perfectly-aligned ranks, squares, and columns, and then, as one well-oiled machine of war, turned to face the city.

Stargazer jumped into action immediately, signalling for all his Pegasi soldiers to take aim with their crossbows, with Ember doing the same for her own Dragons. The Warfang Dragons, Cheetahs, and Moles on the walls all took on a battle-ready stance as the Cheetahs nocked arrows in their bows and the Moles loaded up the cannons on the walls. The Rangers prepared to swoop down towards the army at a moment’s notice, while the Guardians stood still, analyzing the situation closely.

Pinkie and Fluttershy, meanwhile, were hiding in each other’s embrace, looking terrified at the sudden turn of events. Starlight, Blueblood, and Rainbow looked at each other and nodded, before Starlight and Blueblood grabbed both of them and teleported them back to the Temple. Rainbow then cracked her neck from side-to-side and glared down at the Hussars, ready to dive into the fray swinging, while Blueblood retreated behind Celestia and the Guardians and remained silent, wisely deciding to leave the negotiating to his aunt.

Celestia, meanwhile, was staring down at the Hussars with her emotions hidden, gazing over their armaments with only mild curiosity. There were of course the usual suspects, swords, spears, and the like, but there were several ranks of other Hussars that wielded something else. Something she couldn’t quite identify without seeing up close.

Rippler’s proud, pleased gaze swept over his army, before looking back at Celestia with a sneer on his face. “If Equestria and the Eastern Lair won’t leave well enough alone, I’ll make them leave. Isn’t that right?!”

“Huzarzy! Nie ustępować!” the army roared in response.

Ember planted a foot on top of the battlements and blew a large gout of fire into the air above her head, startling the Guardians beside her. Then she pointed down at Rippler with the Bloodstone Scepter and roared, “Ohohoooo, you want a war, punk?! I’ll give you a war! We Dragons haven’t forgotten what you butchers did to us, and we’ve been waiting for a rematch for a loooong time!”

“It’s a rematch you won’t win!” Rippler laughed. “Rifles, take aim!”

Several ranks of Hussars suddenly planted one hoof forward and lifted up their forelegs, holding long metal tubes in their hooves and bracing a wooden stock against their shoulders. Each tube bore a small thaumatic battery in a slot at the top.

Celestia raised an eyebrow. Rifles, she thought with a sour frown. Ghastly things; and Griffon-made, no doubt. I’ll need to talk with Gregory after this, he knows that weapon trades are forbidden by law. But why thaumatic batteries? Everyone knows the Griffons don’t possess magic like we do, nor any way to harness it into batteries, unless...

Everything around her suddenly seemed to freeze, and her breath hitched. One possibility, slim and horrific as it was, entered into her mind.

...Unless...!

She would not believe it. It was impossible.

Her eyes widened, and her face went pale. “Magitek...!” she whispered, her voice choked with intense fear. These weapons weren’t Griffon-made, they were of Pony design. Ponies had, in ages long before Harmony, discovered ways to harness their powers for weapons that would enable city-wide defense or full-scale offense. The result was the Equestrian Magitek Cannon, or EMC, a machine capable of winning wars; and, through the blessings of Faust and all things beloved and holy, never once used or revealed. Had they been, she very much doubted Equestria would ever be the same.

But those were large and cumbersome beasts, only fit for fortified positions. These rifles were hoof-held, lightweight, and mobile. That the Colonies had created such technology under the watchful eyes of Equestria and were confident enough in it to field it with an army was incomprehensible.

And if these weapons were just as powerful as their cannon counterparts...

How could she have been so blind?

“What’s that?” Ember jeered. “Some new toys of yours?”

“Ember!” Celestia hissed at her sternly, stamping a hoof on the wall. “Not another word from you. I know what those weapons are, and if you knew what I know, you wouldn’t be so quick to taunt the ones that hold them. It is now more imperative than ever that we find a way to diffuse this situation without bloodshed. None of us in this city will survive if those weapons are used.”

“Princess...” Starlight murmured in an agitated tone. “What are those things?”

Celestia looked back at the Hussars and shivered. “Something that should never have been made, Starlight Glimmer.”

Rippler held up a hoof but did not give the command to fire. Instead, he looked up at Celestia and Ember one last time, not even deigning to meet the gazes of the Guardians. “Last chance, Sun Witch; submit to Colonial law, or face the consequences. I can see it in your eyes...you know what my soldiers hold, and the terrible power they now wield. The power of the Goddess Herself, I’d wager. You have one minute to decide, or my three thousand Hussars and I will start filling you all full of holes.”

“’Colonial law’...” Ember spat out another gout of fire. “Lawless, racial supremacist thugs, that’s what you lot are. I’d rather die in my own flames then see another Dragon submit to the hooves of butchers.”

Whether it was the dark tone of her voice or her poor choice of words, it caused Spyro to turn his gaze from the immanent battlefield to Ember, and he stared at her blankly. She glanced his way, not understanding his sorrowful gaze, and then turned away. She had meant every word, and would stand by them.

“Tick tock, tick tock...” Rippler jeered.

Celestia let her head droop down, and she closed her eyes. “We have no choice. Even if we were to successfully defend the city, the Colonies will not stop with one attack. Warfang won’t survive in the end.”

The Guardians and Rangers stared at her incredulously. “Surely you’re not suggesting that we surrender to these idiots?” Blackout growled.

“We have to,” Celestia insisted. “If we don’t, it would be--”

SKREEEEEEEEE!!

“Ancestors above, what was that?!” Cyril bellowed as everyone on the walls winced in pain.

The screech died down and silence befell the walls, as everyone turned towards the south. Rippler shouted some commands to his troops and several ranks of Hussars smoothly spun left and reformed facing the south, shields, spears, and halberds at the ready.

They didn’t have to wait long. From the forest to the south emerged several dozen creatures unlike anything the people of Warfang had seen before, eyes blazing with blue fire. They looked similar to Ponies, but had curved horns on their heads; long, furry tails; wild, fuzzy ruffs around their necks and chests; and scaly patches of skin scattered across their bodies. They were led by a tall, lanky male dressed in a green cloak and armored in glimmering steel, and he was not happy in the slightest to see Rippler or his army.

“Kirins...” Celestia whispered, a smile slowly forming on her face.

“Kirins?” Starlight wondered aloud. “I’ve heard about them, but never seen them before. Is that what they look like?”

“Yes, more or less,” Celestia replied. “They’re very isolationist, but they’ve been friends of Equestria for a long time. Or at least, they used to be. We have not heard much from them since the Great Silence.”

“Who’s the tall one?” Cynder asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Celestia admitted. “A relative of Queen Rain Shine, I’d wager. Only royal Kirins get to be that height, and Rain Shine’s bloodline is the last one remaining, to my knowledge.”

“But what are the hippie Dragon-Pony wannabes doing here?” Ember growled. “This isn’t their fight.”

“No, but their borders lie close to these lands, as do the--”

A loud, long, and low note of a war horn sounded in the distance to the east, and Celestia rolled her eyes. “The Abyssinians,” she finished.

Once more the Hussars reacted, about-turning and forming a phalanx wall with their shields while the ranks behind them readied their crossbows as over a hundred bipedal feline figures emerged from the forest behind them. Each of the Abyssinians were garbed in brown cloaks and leather jerkins, and they bore long swords and curved daggers at their sides, enchanted longbows in their hands, and quivers stuffed with steel arrows on their backs. Each one also wore a runic metal mask over their face that obscured their eyes.

Many of the Abyssinians took to the trees, climbing up branches and nocking arrows onto their bowstrings, pulling pack and aiming directly at the Hussars. The remainder unsheathed their swords and formed a line at the forest, not making any further moves unless ordered to do so.

The Hussars, meanwhile, stood fast and glared at both of the newcomers with equal annoyance and anger.

“HOLD!” a female voice roared, and one of the Abyssinians stepped forward from the sword line, removing her mask.

Celestia raised both of her eyebrows this time. The face she saw hadn’t been one she was expecting, but was more than welcome to see again.

Terrador narrowed his eyes at the newcomers. “And who is this, Celestia?”

“Queen Cynthia of the Abyssinians,” Celestia breathed out, a smile forming on her face. “Yet another ally of Equestria, and far more active on the world stage. It seems we might have come upon some good fortune after all.”

“Greeeeat, one hundred or so new guys against three thousand.” Ember rolled her eyes skyward. “We’re saved, woohoo...”

Rippler stepped out from the Hussar lines and faced Cynthia, holding up a hoof to hold his troops from making any sudden moves. Lowering it slowly, he bowed at the waist towards the Queen and called, “Queen Cynthia, you honor us with your presence, but your timing is...poor. I was about to--”

“We know precisely what you were about to do, Captain Rippler,” Cynthia spat, as she and the Kirin leader glared at him with disdain. She then turned her gaze to the city gates and nodded towards Celestia, who nodded back. “Princess Celestia,” she shouted over the field. “Are you in need of assistance?”

“Any and all you can provide would be appreciated, Queen Cynthia,” Celestia shouted back with a beaming smile. “You came just in time.” Her ears flicked back a few times.

“Prince Calm Breeze and I were already on our way here, so we figured we’d help out when we saw what was going on,” Cynthia added with a shrug. Then she turned her attention back to the army in front of her and cracked her knuckles. “Now then, onto business...”

“Queen Cynthia,” Rippler began, choosing his words carefully. “We have no quarrel with either the Abyssinians or the Kirins, nor does this matter concern your respective nations. Please, I beg of you to leave, or I cannot guarantee your safety.”

“Horseapples!” a rickety voice squawked. Everyone watched as a raven flew over their heads and landed on the Kirin leader’s shoulder. The raven cawed once more, watching as its master made several motions with his forehooves before opening its beak once more. “Prince Calm Breeze of the Kirins wishes to make it known that he has heard the arguments that the Colonies and the city of Warfang have had. He stands with the Dragons, and calls the Colonies’ intervention unlawful.”

“As do we,” Cynthia declared, raising her voice. “As you say, we do not have any quarrel with the Frontier Colonies, but we will not stand by as our allies are threatened with military might.”

“If you don’t leave, your people will be in danger from battle,” Rippler warned.

“You’re on thin ice, kid,” Cynthia shot back. “If even one hair on any of my soldiers is touched by your soldiers’ hooves, it’ll be an act of war against Abyssinia, something that the Kirins will not take too kindly to.”

Calm Breeze signed some more words in front of his translator, and the raven spoke, “Prince Calm Breeze says that if war is declared, his mother, Queen Rain Shine, will be willing to break the Great Silence of the Kirins if it meant protecting her friends and her people’s friends. We are peaceful, but not pacifists. Or have you forgotten the Nirik?”

Nirik. Something about that word made Spyro shudder, although he didn’t know why. Seeing his reaction, Cynder glanced at him curiously, but he held up a claw to reassure her that he was fine. The Guardians and Rangers, meanwhile, merely frowned. The situation was rapidly spiralling out of control, despite Celestia’s previous cheer at seeing the Queen.

“There is no need for war between any of us!” the Princess of the Sun cried in desperation, letting her voice carry across the entire field as she rose into the air. Her ears flicked back again, much to her annoyance. Just what was causing that anyway? “All of this is just a legal misunderstanding that can be solved through talking, not battle! If everyone can simply lay aside their weapons and meet on neutral ground, I’m certain that we can come to an--”

“There will be no more negotiating!” Rippler roared back at her. “Dragon Lord Ember wanted a fight, so we’re giving her one. We’re not leaving!”

“Neither are we!” Ember yelled back.

“Then it appears that we are at an impasse,” Calm breeze declared through his raven. Cynthia nodded in agreement.

Silence fell over all parties, as no one wanted to make any sudden moves. One sudden flinch, one wrong twitch, and the course of history for the eastern world would change in an instant. Only the rushing of wind could be heard, blowing in from the north in waves.

For a brief moment, Rippler actually wondered if his show of force was the best course of action. It was certainly a far more complicated situation than he was expecting today, and he had not planned on the Abyssinians or Kirins showing up. Still, he had his orders, and if he backed down now, his House would never see the light of day in Trotsylvania again. Honor and pride won the shouting match in his mind, and he steeled himself. Standing up straighter, he put his hooves behind his back once more and narrowed his gaze at Queen Cynthia, who met him with one of her own, while Calm Breeze slowly brought a hoof to the handle of the sword at his side.

None of them would make a move yet, but neither would any of them back down.

On the walls, all those who were gathered watched the standoff with disquieted gazes. Echo and Blades prepared themselves to pounce into battle at a moment’s notice, while Sprocket stood silent and still, studying the battlefield with his analytical mind, gauging potential strategies. Flashwing and Spotlight looked to their captain for orders, while Blackout grunted in displeasure and looked up at the Guardians, murmuring, “Grandmaster, what are your commands?”

“Hold, captain,” Terrador replied. “Let these ‘Hussars’ make the first move, if they dare.”

“Even with our new friends here, these Hussars still have enough of an army to route them and attack the city at the same time,” Cynder observed. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t dare.”

“I thought we were past this...” Spyro murmured, drawing their attention to him. “Why can’t we just get a break? Why can’t we just live our lives in peace for once? Just once.”

Before Cynder could react, Starlight came over and put a hoof on Spyro’s shoulder. “Spyro...I’m so, so sorry that this is happening. It shouldn’t have gone down this way.”

“It isn’t your fault, young one,” said Cyril.

“No, but it’s Ponies who are the aggressors right now,” Starlight replied with a sigh, looking up at them.

“Not our Ponies, though,” Rainbow reminded her as she hovered close by.

“Bah!” Blueblood spat, stepping forward. “The Frontier Colonies aren’t Equestria, nor do they represent Ponykind. They’re thugs and traitors, and--”

“AND,” Ember interrupted. “They’ll get whatever they deserve, when the time comes.” Planting the end of the Bloodstone Scepter on the floor, she glanced down at Starlight and Spyro with a look of sympathy. “But he’s right, Twilight, er...Starlight; the Colonies aren’t Equestria. We all know that, and we all know that most Ponies don’t think the way they do. Don’t beat yourself up because not everyone is friendly. I don’t hold any of these bozos against you or Celestia, and I don’t think anyone in this city does either.”

“Precisely,” Terrador said with a nod. “Our nations have only just met, and there was no time to discuss such matters at length. We are troubled by this situation, but we don’t blame you.”

“Nor do I...” Spyro added quietly. “I’m just...tired. I’m tired of fighting.”

“You and I share more in common than you may think, young Dragon,” Celestia said as she floated down among them, her ears still twitching. “I have walked this earth for many millennia, and have seen numerous battles. If I can prevent even one, then I am pleased.” Frowning, she reached up with a hoofed and batted at her ear with a grunt of displeasure. “Now, if I can only prevent this...”

“Is something the matter, Princess?” Terrador asked.

“Something’s been irritating me, and it started a few minutes ago,” Celestia replied. “There’s something in the air...I can feel it.”

“You mean the wind currents from the north?” Rainbow asked, pointing in the air. “Yeah, I’ve felt those too.”

Blades poked his head up. “Same here, I thought it was just me.”

Celestia’s frown deepened. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

Everyone fell silent, blinking at each other. Then, as one, they turned their gazes to the north. Large cumulonimbus clouds blocked their vision, as the storm front over Trotsylvania continued to surge, and the northern winds blew their fur and wings back.

And yet, something was off. Rainbow was the first to notice it, and she sniffed the air. Blades soon followed suit, while Celestia’s ears continued to twitch. And then her ears stopped and simply rotated to the north, as she began to pick up a sound.

Whump-whump-whump-whump-whump.

Rainbow and Blades stopped sniffing the air, and they faced each other.

“Gasoline?” Rainbow wondered.

“Feathers?” Blades asked at the same time.

Whump-whump-whump-whump-whump.

Celestia’s jaw dropped. The sound was unmistakable --- it was the sounds of rotary blades chopping rapidly against the air; lots of them. “Griffons...” she whispered.

Three massive, dark silhouettes suddenly formed from within the cloud cover, and before anyone could react, three wooden airships the size of Warfang’s Temple emerged from the storm, the blue and silver markings of the Griffon Empire proudly emblazoned on their hulls, and large figureheads of the Griffon Emperor crowning their prows. There were no gas bags above their decks; instead, each airship had six large rotory blades, three on either side of the hull, holding them aloft. Hundreds of Griffons crawled over the deck and the rigging on the side, all armored in blue-tinted steel and chainmail.

But what caught their attention the most were the weapons. Each ship was lined with over a hundred rotating cannons along the sides of their hull, and all of them were being trained on the Winged Hussars, the Abyssinians, and the Kirins. These weren’t just airships, these were vessels of war, and they were moving at tremendous speeds towards the city. They would be within a stone’s throw in minutes.

Rippler’s jaw dropped, and his forehooves fell to his sides. Calm Breeze managed a small smile, and he let his hoof fall from his blade back down to the ground. Only Queen Cynthia kept her stoic posture as she and her forces stared up at the approaching Griffons.

Celestia, meanwhile, immediately took to the air and lit up her horn. The air seemed to ripple around her as she yelled, “GRIFFONS! THIS IS PRINCESS CELESTIA OF EQUESTRIA! WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE SO HEAVILY ARMED AS IF FOR WAR?”

Cyril raised an eyebrow and whispered to Volteer, “The lady has some lungs on her.”

“Heheh, that’s the Royal Canterlot Voice,” Starlight supplied with a grin. “She usually only pulls that out when she needs to get everyone’s undivided attention.”

“It seems to have worked,” Blueblood noted, pointing to the lead airship as a lone Griffon landed on the bowsprit.

A few moments passed before the airships crossed the distance necessary to answer the call of the Princess. When they did, the Griffon on the bowsprit smacked a fist against his chest and yelled back in a gruff voice, “Celestia! I can’t leave you alone for one bleeding second before you go and do something that nearly offends half the known world, can I? I was having a perfectly amiable lunch with my wife in Cobblerock when I was suddenly recalled to Graymourne.”

Celestia gasped. “Ambassador Gregory?!” she called out.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the grouchy Griffon answered in a clear but annoyed voice. “Give me a moment, I need to take care of some lunatics first, we’ll discuss your own problems later.”

With that, the Griffon ambassador turned his gaze down to the Winged Hussars, cleared his throat, and roared, “Captain Rippler, have you gone stark-raving mad?! Galahad damn you, you nearly sent the Empire into full military mobilization when our listening posts saw your Hussars readying for war. The Emperor would’ve given the order to invade had it not been for me and his generals standing him down!”

“This is none of your concern, you old crow!” Rippler bellowed back in response, but even he knew it was a weak retort. The sight of three Griffon airships had made all of his troops uneasy and unsure of victory.

“Oh, shut your trap, boy! This old crow’s got three hundred loaded cannons trained on you as we speak,” Gregory warned as his ships hovered into position over the army. “You’re in no position to make any demands of me or anyone else. And you, Queen Cynthia...what were you thinking, challenging an army of this size? Now, all of you stand down, clear your heads, and kindly bugger off. The adults need to have a conversation.”

The Abyssinian Queen huffed and crossed her arms. She knew the insult wasn’t aimed directly at her, but she would still have a talk with the grizzled ambassador later about manners.

Rippler, meanwhile, glowered at the airships for a moment, simmering with rage, and then hung his head in shame and embarrassment. The Griffon was right, of course. Neither he nor the General had planned for the Griffon Empire to interfere, and even with the magitek rifles, there would be no way for his troops to defend against three heavy cruisers. If it came down to a fight, the Griffons would come out largely unscathed, and the Hussars would suffer a crippling defeat, one that would surely go down in history as a total failure of his command.

Honor dictated that he not surrender, and that he’d fight anyway. Common sense, however, warned that his dishonor would be even worse if his stubbornness and pride brought that dishonor to the rest of the Colonies. It would be better to regain one Pony’s honor and pride than to lose three thousand lives.

He raised his head once more and called up to Gregory, “Very well, ambassador. We will withdraw for now. But make no mistake, General Snow Drift will be having words with your Emperor soon enough over this.”

Gregory laughed. “I would hope so, the Emperor could use a jolly good laugh these days.”

Rippler rolled his eyes and turned to his troops. “Huzarzy! ...Wycofać,” he commanded.

Despite their inner reluctance to back down, their orders were given and their discipline kicked in. Every Winged Hussar sheathed their blades, replaced their arrows and bolts, shouldered their rifles, reformed into their respective columns, and about-turned in one swift motion, facing the Abyssinians. At the command to march, all three thousand soldiers of Trotsylvania advanced towards the treeline, not even glancing at the Abyssinians or Kirins as they passed them by.

The defenders of Warfang all breathed long sighs of relief as the Hussars disappeared into the forest, and the Guardians quickly signaled for everyone to stand down and to return to their previous posts, which all of them were more than happy to do. The Rangers, however, were given the task of discreetly following Rippler’s forces to ensure that they didn’t double back.

There was, however, little reason for them to do so. As soon as the Hussars had withdrawn from the field, Gregory’s lead airship opened up eight ports under its hull and revealed large metallic claws. The ship then slowly drifted down until it was a few meters above the ground, before cutting off power to its rotors. With a sound that rattled the gates and windows of the city, the ship landed on the hard earth, and several teams of armored Griffons lowered a large boarding gangway from the side of the hull.

As the Abyssinians and Kirins approached the gates, Gregory and an escort of Griffon soldiers disembarked from the grounded airship and presented themselves before Celestia and the Guardians. Gregory bowed low and swept off his helmet, giving them all a wry smile. “Princess, many apologies for arriving unannounced, and so armed, but I had my orders.”

Celestia nodded in understanding. “There is nothing to apologize for, Gregory. You’ve saved many lives today by preventing a disaster. I would’ve preferred a less...confrontational method, but it seems to have worked at least.”

“That’s another reason why I’m here,” Gregory replied, glancing down as the gates were opened for the Abyssinians and Kirins. “The world is watching these events unfold, Celestia, and all want to be a part of it, one way or another. Our listening posts have already spotted the Diamond Dogs on the move towards this place, and we’ve gotten some scattered reports of the Minotaurs and Centaurs sending out ships over the seas once again after many years of silence. The word has spread, and the vultures are circling. This Dragon city represents a new power in the world, and as you saw today, new powers are often seen as a threat to other nations. As such, I wish to offer my ship, the Grimoire, as a neutral meeting place for any and all delegates who wish to discuss how to proceed in this matter.”

Celestia beamed. “That’s a generous offer, Gregory. Thank you.”

“This offer, of course, will extend to all delegates,” Gregory added, casting a wary glance towards the forest. “Even a certain idiot captain. Like it or not, he’s the Frontier Colonies’ representative out here, and we cannot ignore him or cast him out. He has as much right to be present during these negotiations as we do.”

Ember glowered at him. “You can’t be serious. After all that, after he threatened to kill us all?”

“I am,” Gregory replied evenly.

“Ember,” Celestia spoke, turning to her. “I know you have reservations, and so do I, but now that we have neutral ground available to us, we also have a means of negotiating with Warfang without angering the Colonies and coming to blows. This is the best possible scenario.”

“I still don’t like it...” Ember grumbled. Straightening herself up and clearing her throat, she added, “But I see your point. Fine, Griffon, we’ll try it your way. But don’t seat me next to that punk, or I will cut a fool.”

Gregory laughed. “Noted, Dragon Lord.” Then he turned to the Guardians and bowed once more. “Pardon my presumptions, but would you be the leaders of this city?”

“You presume correctly, my feathered friend,” Cyril replied with a nod and a smirk.

“I am Terrador, Acting-Grandmaster of the Guardians, and these are Guardians Cyril and Volteer,” Terrador rumbled, motioning towards his comrades. He then motioned with a wing behind him. “And these are Spyro and Cynder, honored heroes of the city of Warfang.”

Gregory nodded to the two younger Dragons as they stepped forward. “Well met, Guardians, Spyro, and Cynder. I am Ambassador Gregory of the Griffon Empire, representative of His Glorious Majesty Emperor Gaston the Second. I hope the sight of my fleet hasn’t made the inhabitants of...Warfang uncomfortable.”

“Perish the thought, I believe the sight of your balloon-less dirigibles has set a very merry mood throughout the city streets,” Volteer exclaimed. “And might I say, they have also sent my mind spinning. I would very much like to have a look at those rotary devices.”

“Perhaps another time,” Celestia interrupted. “Right now, we have a mess to clean up.”

“Quite right,” Gregory replied, spreading his wings. “I’ll be sending messengers to the Kirins, Abyssinians, and Hussars soon, and I shall see you all on the Grimoire later.”

With that, the old Griffon and his escorts flew off the battlements and headed back towards their ship. Starlight and Rainbow excused themselves to check on Fluttershy and Pinkie and to reassure them that everything was alright again, while Blueblood decided to join them to answer any questions they might have had. Spyro, Cynder, and the Guardians bade Celestia a fond farewell and flew off towards the Temple, promising to send for an escort to take her and the other Equestrians to their quarters for the evening.

That left just herself, Ember, and Stargazer on the walls looking out over the eastern fields, where the Hussars had stood not long ago. With a snort, Ember turned aside, muttering under her breath about having a hatred for politics, and left the two Ponies alone.

Neither the Princess nor the Lunar Captain said anything, until Celestia inhaled deeply and let out a long, tired sigh. Stargazer bowed his head to her and asked, “Do you need anything, Princess?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “A soft bed, a good meal, and a very strong drink, preferably hard Apple Family cider. I will, however, settle for something more important. In my chariot there is a compartment with a Dragonfyre candle inside. Please retrieve it for me, and then dismiss your troops. They need their rest.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Stargazer answered, saluting with a hoof before taking to the air.

Celestia returned her gaze to the open field, now home to one Griffon airship while its companions flew high above. Gregory was right, the world was changing, and Warfang was at the very center of it, whether they wanted to be or not. A tragedy had been averted today, but nothing in the future was certain. There could very well be a hundred more tragedies on the horizon, and none of which she had the power to stop alone.

She needed help. She needed every Princess and every ally on board, and she needed a way to stop the Colonies from ruining their only chance at a peaceful alliance with these otherworlders.

And she would start with her sister, and her Field Marshall. Luna and Thundershock had to know what had happened today, and they had to be prepared to counter any threat the Colonies might pose, if that path was chosen for them. A battalion of Solar Guards, a platoon of Paladins, and five RETTs would be more than enough, she supposed. At the very least, it would give the Colonies pause.

Still, it was an order she didn’t relish in giving. For centuries Equestria had prospered because it lived by the tenets of Harmony and the Prophecies of Faust. If they were to trot down this darker path, she knew where it would lead them, and...she was afraid.





(That night...)

Celestia cracked open an eyelid as the loud thumping noises came from her door. She didn’t know who would disturb her at this hour, but she knew that they had to have had a good reason for doing so. She had lowered the sun for her sister hours ago, and had finally managed to fall asleep, giving express orders to her guards not to disturb her. The fact that they didn’t even try to stop whoever it was at the door indicated one of two things.

Either the person waking her up was extremely important, or the guards had fallen asleep. Again.

Raising herself off the bed, she trotted over to the door and opened it with her magic, revealing two pale-faced Solar Guards pointing up...and up. Terrador stood behind them, looking down at them with a bemused grin on his face.

“H-he wouldn’t leave, Princess,” one of the guards muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, Red Wing,” Celestia chided softly, smiling at him before facing Terrador. “Good evening, Terrador.”

“Good evening, Celestia,” Terrador rumbled. “Am I disturbing you?”

“I had not been asleep for long,” Celestia replied, stepping back and motioning inside. “Please, come in.”

Terrador ducked his head under the doorway and followed her inside, closing the door after him. “I’m sorry for coming at such a late hour. I would’ve come to speak to you sooner, but there were many panicked crowds to pacify in the streets today, as well as...a lot of paperwork to fill...”

“I can imagine,” Celestia chuckled, walking over to the dresser and opening one of the cabinets, revealing a bottle of wine. “Would you care for a drink? Chateau Montagne Rouge, 51 ALR --- the finest wine in all of Canterlot, and this is from my private stock. There are only five left from that year.”

Terrador raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You would share such a treasure with me? When we hardly know each other? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a political bribe.”

Celestia let out an amused huff as she set two glasses on the table, enlarging one with a spell. “Please, Grandmaster, if I wanted to bribe you, I would use something much better than a vintage such as this. Something from the earliest BLR years, I’d wager. Although, I think only one of those bottles still exists, and...my sister has it.”

“Ha, and I suppose she’s unwilling to part with it?”

Celestia popped the cork out of the bottle and began pouring into the glasses, a thoughtful expression on her face. “No...no she wouldn’t. And even if she were to give it to me, I’d dare not drink it. It’s a relic of an era long past. An era where...” Her voice trailed off, and she stopped pouring. She stared into the wine in her glass for a moment, memories flooding into her mind, before setting the bottle down.

Terrador noticed the frown that was slowly forming on her face and hummed, taking the handle of his glass with two talons and raising it to her. “To family,” he said.

Celestia glanced up at him, then grasped her glass with magic and clinked it against his. “To all our families.”

After they both sipped at their glasses, Terrador set his down and asked, “Well, I suppose you can guess why I’ve come. There is much to discuss regarding today’s...events. But first, I do wonder, what are these BLR and ALR years? What do they stand for?”

“Before and After the Lunar Rebellion,” Celestia replied, taking another sip of her wine. “It happened over a thousand years ago. We are in early 1007 ALR right now.”

Terrador’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked down at his glass. “That’s some damn fine wine...” he murmured, before looking back at her. “And this Lunar Rebellion, what was that?”

Celestia said nothing, and simply sipped at her wine once more.

Terrador frowned, realizing that this particular line of questioning was hitting a sore spot for his guest. After a moment of silence, he coughed and said, “So, about today...”

“Yes?”

“You and Dragon Lord Ember appear to have much history with these Frontier Colonies and Hussars, and not all of it good. Could you explain to me who they are, and why Starlight and her friends didn’t tell me or anyone else about them when they were giving their speech on how Ponies in this world were fond of friendship and Harmony?”

Celestia sighed, setting aside her glass. “Do not judge Starlight Glimmer or the others for things they couldn’t possibly know of. The Colonies are known to Equestria, but not so much their history. Starlight and her friends were telling you the truth when they said that Ponies were friendly and peaceful, but...every barrel has a rotten apple.”

Terrador nodded, memories of Malefor and his followers returning to his mind. “I believe I understand. How long were you going to hide their existence, though?”

The Princess of the Sun didn’t even hesitate as she locked gazes with him. “Even if it cost us an alliance, I would’ve never hidden them from you.”

She and Terrador stared at each other for several moments before Terrador nodded and reached for his wine glass once more. “Your honesty is appreciated, and exemplary,” he remarked. “Thank you.”

“Is that all you wished to know?”

“No, there is much more I wish to know,” he replied. “That Griffon, Gregory I believe his name was, mentioned many more nations being interested in us, not to mention the Kirins and Abyssinians. What can you tell me of them?”

Celestia shrugged. “Well, the Kirins are isolationists and often silent on the world stage, but they are friendly enough. Very obsessed with nature, balance, and speaking the truth, whether it be gentle or brutal. Then there are the Griffons, warriors of honor and might who command the skies and own the mountains. The Abyssinians are vain and quick to anger, but they are wise and loyal to their friends, as you’ve seen today. The Dragons of the Eastern Lair are greedy and proud, but they are willing to go beyond their base instincts in order to better themselves, even if it means doing things that make them uncomfortable. Ember has been teaching them well, despite some hiccups.” She chuckled. “As for the others, such as the Diamond Dogs, Minotaurs, and Centaurs, they keep to themselves in their halls of stone, content to leave the rest of the world to their neighbors while they scrape off what remains. Then there are the Lost Races, such as the Hippogriffs, Kelpies, Wyverns, and Yetis, who we have not seen in many centuries.”

“Your world is a very populated one indeed,” Terrador observed.

“The ones I’ve told you about merely scratch the surface. Tell me, has anyone told you yet about the Changelings?”

“Can’t say that they have.”

Celestia smirked. “You’ll like this, then. Imagine a race that can change shape with the flash of a flame, mimic the voices of those they disguise themselves as, and blend in perfectly with those around them. They can be anyone anywhere at any time, and you’d never know it unless they reveal themselves. They live in Hives as large as this city and as tall as the mountains, and they feed on emotions, although love to them is like a drug they can’t live without.”

“Incredible...” Terrador breathed. “There is nothing in the ancient texts that speak of a race such as this in the Dragon Realms. Your world is remarkable!”

“Yes, the Changelings are fascinating creatures,” Celestia agreed. “They were once our sworn enemies, led by Queen Chrysalis, a powerful and demented villain with great aspirations of conquest. Luckily, she was overthrown by Starlight Glimmer and a lowly Changeling drone named Thorax, who has since become the new Changeling King. He and Princess Twilight, a colleague of mine, are off on some adventure to the west if I recall, but I have no doubt they will return soon. Twilight has expressed great interest in meeting you.”

“Yes, I’ve heard several tales of this Twilight Sparkle already,” Terrador chuckled. “Her friends speak very highly of her, and I must confess, she seems to be a very wise and kind ruler in her own right. You’ve trained her well.”

Celestia dipped her head towards him. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, tell me, what became of this Chrysalis? Is she in prison?”

“Unfortunately, she escaped to the Frozen North after she was dethroned, along with what few followers she had left following Thorax’s coup. The last news I heard from the Crystal Empire, an allied Pony kingdom to the north, was that my niece, Princess Cadance, and her husband Prince Shining Armor, were currently leading their own forces in hunting her down and bringing her in to face justice, but...I have not heard from them in a long while.” She put a hoof to her chin and fell silent, her expression turning thoughtful.

“Well, here’s hoping they catch her soon,” Terrador said, raising his glass once more. “The world needs less villains.”

“I’ll drink to that; we seem to be having a rash of them recently,” Celestia laughed, clinking her glass against Terrador’s. “First the Mare in the Moon, then Discord, then Chrysalis, then the mad King Sombra, then Tirek the Oppressor, then Chrysalis again...it’s been a wild few years, and Twilight’s been a busy little mare, knocking them all down like dominoes with the help of her friends.”

Terrador joined her in laughter. “No wonder Spyro and Cynder like her so much, she’s reminding me of them the more I hear about her.”

Celestia noticed the twinkle in his eye when he mentioned the two Dragons’ names, and she smiled. “Spyro and Cynder...are they yours? You talk about them in high regard, and with great pride.”

Terrador nearly choked on his wine. “Ha! Perish the thought. I haven’t had a mate in many years, too much fighting, not enough down time. No, I honestly have no idea who birthed either of them, but they are...special to me. They remind me of an old friend of mine, a brother in all but blood. He gave his life to protect them, and he was like a father to Spyro, so I suppose in an odd sort of way, that makes me Spyro’s uncle. And as for Cynder...she’s bonded to Spyro, in more ways than one, and Ignitus loved her like a daughter, so I cherish her as well. As I said, they are both special.”

“Twilight told me of Spyro’s story in one of her letters before she left with Thorax,” Celestia remarked sadly. “I am sorry. To lose such a friend is heartbreaking...and something I can relate to a thousand times over. It is never an easy thing.”

Terrador shook his head slowly, and felt his shoulders tense. “No, it isn’t. To think that I’ve been alive for 1843 years, and have lost many friends in that time, yet this is the first time I feel like I’m missing part of myself.”

“You’re still young,” Celestia said, putting a hoof atop his claw with a comforting smile. “And, although it will linger still, the pain will become more bearable. Do not let the chains of the past weigh you down.”

Terrador nodded and relaxed once more. Celestia certainly had a way with words. “Thank you, Celestia,” he said. Then he paused and raised an eyebrow as the rest of her words dawned on him. “Did...did you just call me young? I’ll admit, I’m still in my prime, but I’m no hatchling either.”

Celestia giggled and put a hoof to her chest proudly. “I am 7532, and counting.”

Terrador stared at her blankly, looking her over. “...You don’t look a day over five thousand,” he deadpanned.

The laughter that emerged from the Princess’s lips could be heard throughout the Temple, and in the future if anyone were to ask any of those who had heard it how it made them feel, all they would do was sigh and smile.

Afterwards, the two leaders remained in the room, chatting amicably away as the moon and stars shone overhead. They talked of many things, of history, philosphy, science, tall tales, and nonsense. After tonight, they would never once think of each other as anything less than friends.





(Trotsylvania, Government Headquarters)

General Snow Drift stared out the window of his darkened office, not saying a word even as the Hussar officer behind him finished her report on Captain Rippler’s most recent failure at the Dragon city. As she lowered and rerolled the scroll, she glanced over at him, watching as he squared his shoulders and sighed deeply, his warm breath fogging up the cold glass in front of him for a moment.

Once th scroll was secured, the Hussar pocketed it, stood at attention, and said in a low voice, “My lord, do you wish to write a reprimand for Captain Rippler, or new orders?”

“No,” Snow murmured. “No reprimands, and his orders have not changed. The fault is not his, it is mine for being blind to the mechanations of the Griffons, Kirins, Equestrians, and Abyssinians.” He turned to face her. “You’re dismissed, lieutenant. Send Mouser my regards for his thorough report on the situation, and tell the Chief Quartermaster to increase his wages. And, on your way out, inform the guards that I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the night.”

The lieutenant bowed and swiftly exited the room without a word.

Snow turned back to the window, staring out at the dark clouds that gazed back at him from the night sky. The storm had long since passed, but the aftermath lingered, and raindrops still peppered the outside of his window. It was almost poetic, in a way. He had sent a storm to the Dragons, only for it have been repelled, like raindrops against the glass.

Would the torment of the Winged Hussars never cease? Were they doomed to failure forever?

He would not, and could not accept it.

Where Rippler failed, he would succeed. He would contact Generals Horizon Burner and Spring Roll tomorrow, and inform them of his plans to visit the Dragon city personally to challenge them not with a show of force, but with a show of decorum and cunning. The Dragons could not deny the Colonies then.

Of course, being a General, he could not just up and leave his post. Even such a simple idea would require much logistical planning and special security. He had many enemies, and while he was proud of his Hussars, he did not put it past any one of them or their respective Houses to take a shot at him when given the chance for an easy grab for power. The politics of the Houses were nebulous and dark indeed.

The Dragon city could wait for him.

A loud knocking sound interrupted his thoughts, and Snow sighed, glaring daggers at the entrance to his office. “I am not to be disturbed!” he bellowed.

The door opened, and another Hussar stepped inside, saluting sharply. “Many apologies, general, but I was given strict orders by my commander to deliver this message to you personally, and that no one was allowed to stop me,” he reported.

Snow looked past the Hussar, noticing both guards at the door sporting large bruises in their eyes and spite-filled glares. The general let out a chuckle and waved the Hussar forward. “You’ve certainly earned my attention already, boy. Give your report, and be quick about it.”

The Hussar closed the door and then snapped to attention. “My lord, earlier today we had a break-in at the Arcane Archives.”

“A...break-in?” Snow echoed. That wasn’t unusual. There was always some rowdy runt from the streets trying to break in to steal some scroll, tome of knowledge, or somesuch rubbish. “Is that all?”

“No my lord. The wing that had been broken into was the maximum security wing, the one reserved only for your eyes and the Master of Science alone.”

Now Snow was intrigued. “Go on.”

“The wing had twelve of the finest Winged Hussars guarding it, each chosen by you personally. All of them were found murdered at the scene --- throats slit, skulls crushed, hearts stabbed, or torsos gutted. Whoever did this was brutal, meticulous, very skilled, and incredibly strong.”

Snow raised an eyebrow. “An Earth Pony, perhaps?”

“No my lord, that was our first guess. Whoever did this was stronger. Much stronger. We’ve also ruled out Griffons, Dragons, and Changelings.”

So, none of the usual suspects then, Snow thought. “What was stolen?”

“A single scroll, bearing the mark of a seven-pointed star emblazoned on a snake’s head. The Master of Science confirmed that it was the only thing missing, and that it was one of a kind.”

“I know the one you speak of,” Snow replied. “And you do not know who did this?”

“No my lord. Our mages and the Master of Science himself scoured the Archives from top to bottom, as well as the surrounding area within a five mile radius. There was no discernable trace of any teleportation or thaumatic signature of any kind, or even any physical evidence. The thief or thieves covered their tracks too well.”

“Clever bastard...” Snow muttered, already lost in thought. “Why was I not informed of all this when it had happened?”

“The Master of Science thought it wiser to keep it low-profile until he was certain he could make no more headway on the case without informing you first, my lord.”

Snow nodded in understanding. When it came to matters of Archival security, the Master of Science always had the final say in these matters. “Very well. Is that the end of your report?”

“Yes my lord.”

“Then you are dismissed, and find some replacement guards for the ones outside. I can’t have ones who can’t perform a simple job guarding a door.”

The Hussar bowed and, like the mare before him, exited the room without another word, closing the door after him.

Snow, however, did not return to the window. Instead, he sat down at his desk and pondered the report he had just been given. The break-in was a clear sign that security at the Archives needed to be increased, if even twelve of his finest Winged Hussars couldn’t handle a few thieves, or even just one. But what troubled him the most was what had been stolen.

“The Viper Serum forumla...” he whispered, remembering the day the Master of Science had approached him on Snow’s first day as General of Trotsylvania. It had been one of the Colonies’ greatest-kept secrets.

The only way to break the seal of the scroll to read what was inside was to remove it from its containment and bring it to the place from which it was written: an old, volcanic island far to the northeast.

The Island of Thrace, the ancient homeland of the extinct Thracian Ponies.

It was one of the few remaining artifacts from that old, long-forgotten tribe of horror shows and freaks, and they had good reason to keep their secrets under a complicated lock and key. For on its vellum page was written a single line of letters, runes, and glyphs, both magical and mundane --- a chemical code for a weapon of ages past.

A weapon that, when dispersed in the air, could control the minds of those it posessed. It would make them see things that weren’t there, and make them believe things that were impossible. It made them susceptible to suggestion, and brought many kingdoms to their knees and many people to their deathbeds. Just another reason for why the entire world was grateful for the almighty and terrifying Daybreaker on that day when she turned their once flourishing island into a magma pit.

The formula’s loss was a savage blow, one that the Colonies would never recover from, and whoever stole it would feel General Snow Drift’s wrath when they were found.





(The Frozen North, Mount Everhoof)

The air was still and silent as two ravens soared over the slopes and towering peaks of the Frozen North, and not a Pony soul below them saw their flight or heard the gentle flap of their wings.

If they had, they would’ve seen the ravens make a sharp turn south, flying over and past the Crystal Empire, and then, many hours later, over the green prairies beyond.

Their mission was simple, and their Queen’s instructions were clear. They were to fly to Cloudsdale with all haste and blend in with the Pegasi there. Once secure in the populace, they were to locate any and all weak points in the city’s defenses, as well as guard movements and cannon placements, and then report back to the Everhoof Hive in several weeks’ time.

Canterlot and the Crystal Empire were too well defended. But the Pegasi, in their home in the sky, were prime targets. They didn’t have the magic of the Unicorns, nor the strength of the Earth Ponies. They had only their precious clouds and pride.

But the Changelings of the Everhoof Hive had something the Pegasi lacked.

Hunger.

Insatiable, ferocious, rapacious HUNGER.