Hegira: Rising Omega

by Guardian_Gryphon


Chapter 30

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Twelfth Month, Fifteenth Day, Celestial Calendar

Alyra

I know Dad didn't mean to wake me so early, but I was teetering on the threshold of 'too tired to sleep well.'  It wasn't the motion of him getting up, so much as an unconscious realization that the protective canopy of his wing was gone.

It wasn't an uncomfortable jolt into wakefulness...  More like a steady, gentle climb from deep sleep to that strange energized clarity of waking in time to your internal rhythms at an odd hour.

I knew it was still early.  The stars were out.  Dad was sitting on the balcony of our guest room, eyes fixed on the sky.  I smiled, and quietly rose, stretched, and then leapt down from the bed to join him.

He sighed, and placed one wing around me as I nestled into his side, and turned my eyes up to the heavens.  I think out of us all, he and I loved the stars most.  Because we'd spent so long without them.  Been born without them.  Wondered plenty of nights of our lives whether we would ever see a real clear sky.

Dad signed again, and shook his head, murmuring in a low, comforting voice.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to wake you."

I pressed my head in closer to his side, closed my eyes for a moment, and danced on the edge of sleep before looking up to the sky again, and matching his quiet timbre.

"It's ok.  I like watching the stars with you."

We sat together like that for a good while.  I didn't bother to count the minutes.  I didn't want to.  There is something to be said for living moments of your life outside the confines of the clock.

Instead I counted red stars.  Seven thousand four hundred and twenty three from our vantage point, at that exact time of year, with Gryphon eyes.  I was about to switch to counting blue ones, when Dad spoke up again.

"You know...  This will be one of our last nights with just the two of us.  At least, one of the last nights where it's the norm."

I smiled up at him, and nodded.

"I know!  I'll be glad to have Mom with us."

My gaze fell, and I spent a few moments examining the sharp outline of the mountains against the horizon, shaking my head slowly in awe.  I didn't realize I'd said what I was thinking out loud until Dad pulled me closer to his side in response.

"...I never thought...  Never even dreamed...  That I would have a Father, *and* a Mother...  Sometimes it still feels like...  I don't deserve it...  Like it can't be real...  Like I shouldn't have been the one who survived."

He began to gently preen my head crest as he mulled the words over, before bringing his head down and looking me directly in the eyes.

"We do not get to know what the future might have been.  There is one reality.  One present.  I am...  Indescribably grateful that you are in my present, and my future.  And I know that Sonya is too.  She may have no way to say so to you right now...  But I know how much she loves you.  And so I know she is proud of the person you have become.  Just like I am.  And your Mother is."

His smile widened, and he brushed my cheek gently with one talon.

"Martins told me about what you did.  For your birth-father.  That was the action of a kind, noble, wise-hearted young woman.  With far more patience, and forgiveness, and love than I think I could ever muster.  And I saw you talking with Miles as well...  Comforting him.  Whether or not you realize that's what you were doing..."

He shifted his eyes back to the sky, giving me a moment to process what he'd said, before adding the rest of his adjacent thoughts.

"Miles has lost a lot.  And it seems like you have some interests in common, if the little snippets of talk I caught are anything to go by.  Thank you for reaching out to him.  You both could stand to have at least one friend your own age."

I balled up a claw and punched him lightly in the side.

"Daaad!  I'm *fine.*  You can't rush these things."

He rolled his eyes, and swatted me ever so lightly across the bridge of my beak with his tail fan;  More of a brush with the end of a duster than anything else.

"You are your mother's daughter."

Something about the way he so casually wove deadpan humor, and genuine compliment, and a reference to Neyla as 'Mother,' and me as 'Daughter' into one short pithy sentence, lit off a warm fuzzy comforting feeling in all my bones.

I nuzzled my head into his side again, and we had a few more minutes of quiet before he lifted his wing, turned fully around to sit across from me, and lay down to rest his head on folded forelegs, putting his eyeline beneath mine, and looking up at me inquisitively.

"While we're alone...  I want to ask you to be completely, totally honest with me.  Do you have any worries, or knots in your stomach, or reservations, or fears, no matter how slight, about Neyla becoming your Mother?"

I dropped to a similar lying-down posture, and touched my beak to the end of his, before shaking my head adamantly.  I didn't need to even consider that for half a second.  I'd spent so many sleepless nights thinking about Neyla.  So many hours together with her, sometimes with Dad, sometimes with the others, sometimes just the two of us...

And every heart-beat of every second I'd spent with her, from that first moment I'd opened my eyes to her in the Conversion Bureau...  Even before I had my feathers...  One single thought, one single word, had been my very breath around her.

'Mother.'

I knew my voice projected my surety as much as my expression must have.

"My only fear was that this day would never come.  I wish the wedding was today."

He grinned, and nuzzled me back before responding.

"Who knows?  Maybe we will just do it quietly this afternoon.  I have to talk a little more with her about what she wants...  But we both used the words 'small,' quiet,' and 'intimate.'  If not today, then tomorrow."

After a second of smiling, and shaking his head to the tune of his own internal thoughts, Dad shifted around again to put one wing over me, lying side by side with me on the cool stone of the balcony.

"Three weddings in one week span.  And a new clan.  If we could win on the power of love alone, we would be able to annihilate our enemy by sunrise."

I closed my eyes and curled up fully under his wing as the urge to get a little more sleep finally became just that little bit too insistent.  As I drifted off, I forced out my response through a yawn.

"Who knows Dad?  The power of love is a curious thing."

Fyrenn

For once in my life, I managed to banish insomnia and get back to sleep for a few hours.  

That was a rare thing for me.

I hadn't wanted to tell Alyra that it was visions of Sonya that woke me initially.

Skye insisted that she had destroyed the Nightmare's ability to reflect my anxieties into my dreams...  Somehow that knowledge just made Sonya's continued appearance in my somnolent mind that much worse.

Not that I was ungrateful.  

My visions of Sonya weren't so much nightmares themselves, as the kind of dream more likely to leave tears in your eyes on waking, rather than a racing heart and terror sweat.

The gut wrenching imagery of Veritas' words wrapped up in Neyla's form?  Or, occasionally, the shapes of other friends and family?  Those were gone for good.  

And to Hell with them.

I'd thanked her more than once already, but I made a mental note to go on thanking Skye for what she'd done as long as I lived.  People who say 'sleep is for the weak' are either just being funny for a variety of reasons, or stupid beyond description.

Few people understand what true chronic sleep deprivation is like.  Soldiers.  Insomniacs.

I was both.

When you've only had five hours of good quality sleep inside a seven day period, your mind starts to shit bricks.  Gryphons can stretch the margins longer, and more functionally, especially if we eat a healthy diet overall, stay hydrated, and have continuous supplementary protein intake.

But even that has its limits.

For a few weeks during the early part of the winter, I'd been worried I might actually hurt myself because of my exhaustion.  I'd called out from the forge more than once just for safety's sake.

Grogginess and white hot liquid metal do not mix well.

The choice to put faith ahead of fear had changed everything, even in such a short time, and under such stressful conditions.  With each new personal victory, the nights were becoming more restful and consistent.

Alyra was right.  

Why not just quit waiting around, and tie the knot?

That was the thought that was fixed in my mind as it went from sleeping to waking again under the first searching gold fingers of the morning sun.

When I rose to stretch, first my front legs, then wings, neck, and finally my back legs, Alyra yawned, and then mimicked the almost ritualistic routine.

I gestured towards the door with my head, and grinned.

"C'mon.  Let's go ask your Mother about wedding arrangements."

My claw was an inch from the room's ornate golden door handle when a loud knock rang out from the other side of the whitewashed oaken slab.  I recognized the distinctive sound signature of a hoof.

Raising an eyebrow, I pulled the door open, and was nearly promptly run over by Celestia as she pranced into the room, an enormous silver and golden tray balanced in her magical field, laden down with hot haycakes, donuts, fresh bread, and fruits.

Neyla followed behind, an enormous carafe of tea in one claw, and four mugs, three Gryphon-sized, one Pony-sized, in the other.  Her expression was fascinating;  At once amused, befuddled, and impressed with Celestia's intense energy, and purposeful gait.

Wordlessly, the Alicorn began to lay out breakfast for the four of us as I traded a confused glance first with Neyla, then Alyra, then Neyla again.

Celestia finally seated herself, and gestured expansively with one hoof, smirking as she began to pour tea for each of us, ending with her own cup, which she lifted for a sip, before speaking at last.

"I wanted to catch you all before the day started in earnest.  A good hot meal is an excellent foundation for a good day.  And I learned long ago that bringing hearty food in one hoof is best if you are bringing a request in the other."

Alyra suppressed a slight giggle.  I shook my head, sighed, and downed a long draught of tea before exchanging another glance with Neyla.  The cant of her ears seemed to say 'go ahead', so I put forth the question on behalf of us all.

"A request?  And one that had to be asked early, and over donuts at that?"

I narrowed my eyes, and flicked one ear forward.

"Why do I get the feeling we're about to be drafted?"

Celestia made no effort to hide her smile.  She took another sip, a surprisingly ravenous bite of bread, and a third sip, before responding.  I didn't like her tone one little bit.  It had a definitive air of youthful, self-assured vigor that told me she felt whatever she was going to ask?  She was going to get it.

"I wouldn't use the word 'drafted...'  But I think your sentiment is close enough to the truth.  I wanted to talk to you about the wedding arrangements."

She held up a hoof, closing her eyes, and waggling her head as she pre-empted my objections in a calm, firm tone.  I'd sucked in a breath through my beak so hard it had almost whistled across the sharp edges.

"I understand that you have, in all likelihood, decided to have a small, quiet, minimal ceremony.  A family affair, nothing more.  And I understand why that would be your first instinct, and your first choice..."

Celestia gently placed her cup down on the table, opened her eyes, and spread her wings ever so slightly, voice rising an octave, trying her damndest to be persuasive in both tone, and expression.

"...But matrimonial ceremony in most cultures, all of ours included, is observed as much for the benefit of the attendees as for the benefit of the ones making vows."

Ah.  There it was.  Ever the peacemaker, and political strategist.  She wanted us to put on a display so her Ponies could be exposed to a different culture.  Admirable.  But I was going to do my best to disappoint her.  I didn't want the adoration, or admiration, or even the interest of large crowds.

I just wanted to marry Neyla, kill the Nightmare, and then go home with my wife and daughter, to our new clan, to start the process of building that better future we were all dreaming of.  That we were all yearning for.

I held up a claw and shook my head, inclining it slightly, and trying to be as polite as I could in my refusal.

"Princess...  There will be plenty of other chances for Canterlot to see a Gryphon wedding---"

Her interruption surprised me.  It was quiet, and gentle, but at the same time extremely forceful.  In the snap of a claw her visage hardened to one of remorse, mixed with the same surety as before.  And a small hint of buried fear.

"Will there?  And...  Even if there are...  There will almost certainly never be one quite so opportune in timing."

The way she had broached the question of our survival hung in the air like aerosolized steel.  Just when the silence was on the verge of becoming truly uncomfortable, she moved to press her advantage.

"This kingdom...  This city...  Will soon face war.  The bloodiest, most horrific conflict in living memory.  Twice in one month my little Ponies have very nearly lost one of their Princesses.  Even now the rumors of how much I am...  Diminished...  Are spreading like a cancer throughout the kingdom.  Fear...  Insidious, and strong as ironroot, and fast growing as a disease...  Is not far behind."

Celestia rose, and moved slowly to the balcony, staring down at the city for a moment, before cinching her thesis quietly.  Almost forlornly.

"Whether Guard, or Cobbler, Baker, or Farrier...  Many of those living here will be forced to fight.  Every last one will suffer loss in some way.  They are not sufficient to the task in their own strength alone.  They need hope.  They need something to find joy in, to cast out the fear.  And they need to be reminded of the value of Unity, and Harmony...  Because soon they will be sharing trenches, and towers, and foxholes with all sorts."


She turned back to face us then, piercing us each in turn with a steady, heartfelt gaze.  

"They *need* to see the joy you have in your love, as a family.  To see Gryphon wed to Gryphon.  Changeling to Pony.  And Ponies, Dragon, and Changeling taken as brothers and sisters to Gryphons, and to each other.  Your family is everything we hope for.  Everything we must aspire to be."

She returned her gaze to me.  Her large violet eyes were drowning in regret, and fear, and sorrow.  But over it all, a hard glassy film of conviction that carried through to her words.  And of hope.

" 'I'll be ready and willing.'  That was the promise you made to me, not so very long ago.  You wanted to know what you could do to help matters, in a diplomatic sense.  Well?  This is your best opportunity.  Declare your love publicly.  Bask in the light of the trappings of a royal wedding, and family joining.  Not for yourselves...  But for *them.*  For every old salt that may yet lay down their lives in this war.  For every eager yearling that may live to see a better world after.  For the snobs who need an object lesson.  For the curious, who need only an open door.  You can make a stand on the battlefield of hearts too.  And I promise you, it will be worth it."

Well.

Shit.

I traded long, significant looks with Alyra, and Neyla both.  Their expressions conveyed the exact same turbid mix of emotions and thoughts I was feeling.  How could we very well refuse after an argument like that?

All is fair in love.  And War.

I looked back down at Alyra, and raised one eye crest.  She nodded.  I looked up to see Neyla's beak and ears already fixed with an affirmation.  But she nodded once firmly nonetheless.

I sighed deeply, and shrugged with my wings.

"Apparently breakfast can be an exceedingly dangerous weapon, in the right hooves.  How can we possibly say no?"

She smiled, and nodded.  The pink of her mane almost seemed to glow as I sensed joy wash over her.  And relief.

The Princess moved back to the table, and sat on her haunches, lifting her cup again as her chipper demeanor returned like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

"Well then.  Shall we finish this lovely breakfast, and then make ready to meet your King and Queen?  There is much to arrange if we are going to manage to carry off so much pomp and ceremony successfully tomorrow."

I physically could not prevent myself from spewing my tea all over the drapes.  Mercifully I managed to miss Celestia's mane.  For the most part.

Neyla and I shouted the same word, at the same time, in the exact same key.  It would have been beautiful if it wasn't so hilarious.

"TOMORROW?!"

Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
December 15th, Gregorian Calendar

"This is...  A staggering amount to take in.  Who else have you shared this with?"

Councilor Xaelus made a conscious effort to restrain himself.  Nevertheless, he reflexively leaned forward over the desk in anticipation. 

The lighting of the spartan office space automatically began a gradual ramp up to return to normal as the bright flare of Thaumatic projection ended.  Diffuse rays glistened off the spines of vintage books, the brass of an antique barometer, and the polished wood of pre-winnowing firearm stocks.

The Unicorn who had put on such an astonishing, and stomach turning display only moments before, rubbed one gray armor plating covered hoof absently against the back of the opposite front leg as she spoke.

"No one...  I...  I was never supposed to know this information.  No one in the JRSF outside of the senior circle were to be read in.  While I don't agree with the decision to keep this secret...  I understand why they did.  If the public ever learned about this...?"

Xaelus nodded, and held up a placating hand, scrunching his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand.  After he'd had a moment to shed some of his stress, he spoke again in a firm, surprisingly comforting tone.

"You did the right thing.  It took courage to defy the decision of a Princess, and share this secret with the EarthGov.  You may have just saved countless lives, both Human and Equestrian."

The Councilor rose, straightening his suit jacket reflexively, and gestured towards the office door.

"We'll need to arrange a formal deposition.  Your identity will be safeguarded, of course, to protect you from reprisal.  You'll also need to show my top analysts everything that you just showed me.  This kind of threat demands an immediate response."

Xaelus dipped his head appreciatively towards the Unicorn, noting her small half-smile in response, and pulled the office door inwards.  The Army Special Forces guards stationed on either side of the entryway pivoted to face the door, and snapped to attention.

The Councilor returned their salutes, and then gestured to the Unicorn.

"Take the lieutenant to the SCIF.  Get her some food, some coffee, and I'll have an analytics team dispatched within the hour.  No other visitors.  She does not leave your sight at any time, and no one speaks to her, or so much as looks at her, without authenticated orders from me.  Clear?"

The two armored soldiers saluted once again in perfect practiced tandem, and then took up protective detail positions, one ahead of the Unicorn, one behind.

Xaelus offered the young mare a parting smile, and nod, before stepping back into his office.

Alone, the Councilor felt no obligation to maintain a facade of professionalism.  

What was the point?

He collapsed into his chair and cradled his head in one hand, struggling to take deep, slow breaths.  The Councilor was no stranger to war.  It's risks, pains, and fears.

But the sheer scale of what the young Unicorn JRSF lieutenant had told him dwarfed even the tension, and scope, of an all out war with the Equestrians.

A war, even a losing one, still left you options.  

Slamming the door shut on your entire universe?

Leaving billions to die a slow, creeping, horrifying death, while escape sat tantalizingly close, yet impossibly far away?

Using a technology meant to buy Earth time, to instead trap its citizens in the path of a devastating energy field?

It was unthinkable.

Though the political climate was changing swiftly, it still was not friendly enough to a pro-Humanist view for Xaelus to admit his HLF sympathies openly on the Council.  

The Councilor was less of a traditionalist, and more of a 'neo-realist Humanist.'

The old rallying cry was 'Humanus Pro Vita.'  But remaining physically Human forever was, in Xaleus' opinion, a luxury only the Genesists could afford.  Their achievements would give the Human form and culture a chance to survive, and thrive elsewhere.

For everyone left behind, the harsh reality had to be faced;  Nothing was going to stop the Barrier.  

Convert...  Or die.

You could rail all you wanted at a hurricane.  It would not stop to consider the 'fairness' of destroying you.  Nor the tragedy of what might be lost.  Nor the ethics of difficult choices.

You could either get the Hell out of the way, or die a moron.

Facing that truth, Xaelus had opted to follow his more pragmatically minded colleagues down the path of practicality.  Accept the things you can't control.  Redouble your efforts to control the rest.

Certainly the Archive Project talked a good game;  Preserve all that Humanity knows, and all that they have created, for future generations.

Xaelus sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, shaking his head slowly.

Future generations who would live under the hooves of the same Equestrian monarchs that countless native generations had already been born, lived, and died under.  Equestrian monarchs.  Equestrian laws.  Equestrian rules.  Equestrian culture.

And all enforced with Human technology and science, married to Equestrian magic.

Humanity as a spiritual concept would be reduced to a fascinating museum piece.  

Its proud culture left to languish as little more than an afternoon's amusing diversion for foals so thoroughly indoctrinated with Equestrian ideals, that they wouldn't even think of themselves as the children of Converts anymore.

As Humans, anymore.

By embracing the future in Equestria, Xaelus had hoped that Converts might control the future.  A future rooted in Human ideals and beliefs.  

The non-Pony Conversion programs had been a source of great hope to many in the HLF, Xaelus included.  Though the hostility from the upper command structure towards acceptance of that sentiment had been intense right up until they had very nearly accidentally killed everyone in both universes.

Then all of the sudden it had become at minimum 'practically acceptable' to view Conversion, especially non-Pony Conversion, as a ray of hope for the future.

It helped that much of the previous Cabinet had been killed, in combat with the JRSF, or by their own subordinates as punishment for failure.  Or by their own hand to avoid interrogation.

Nonetheless, everyone seemed to agree;  The Gryphons were a total loss.  

Their morality lock was even more troublesome than the Ponies' passivity instincts.  

The latter could be overcome with sheer will, and careful exercise.  The former was so strong that it would kill would-be Converts during the transformation process, if their will and self was truly incompatible with its utterly inescapable mandates.

On the other hand, every species since the Option Gamma program had been at worst a minimum viable alternative, and at best an ideal escape hatch.

Dragon Conversion was dangerous, but only to those of weak will.  The process had no interest in one's moral affiliations, or political persuasions, merely one's raw strength of self, and self-control.

Diamond Dog serum was tricky, but the HLF had learned through careful experimentation that by pre-selecting candidates who would emerge as Alphas naturally, that it was possible to build a trained and disciplined pack wholecloth from scratch.  

A pack that was based on Human Military ideals and behaviours.

Though the Zebra, Yak, and Buffalo were not quite as combat effective as canids or giant reptillianoids, they were still a physical force to be reckoned with.  And while, like all Equestrians, they came with their own set of quirks and instincts, they were far better options than Ponies, for the aspiring future members of the burgeoning Equestrian branch of the Front.

An endeavour that would die on the vine if the flow of Converts suddenly and permanently ceased before the population metrics could stilt in their favor.  Before mainstay HLF leadership could make the transition themselves.

Before any of their carefully prepared resource stockpiles could be smuggled across.

Xaelus drummed his fingers on the black granite slab of his desk absently, and then gently placed his thumb on the biometric denial pad at the top of the first drawer on the left.

The tray slid open to reveal a slab of closed cell foam that held a small unregistered laser pistol, an encrypted audio-only communications device, and a thick glass vial of greenish-teal sparkling substance, capped at one end by a hardened rubberized plastic thumb switch, and at the other end by a clear biophobic nylon sleeve perched atop a thick needle.

Project Loki.

The Councilor grinned, and brushed one hand gently over the vial.  The HLF knew how to make Conversion Serum just as well as the Bureau Network did.  The Military had been a crucial part of both the original Ponification tests, and of Option Gamma.

The damned Solar Monarch had her Gryphons to spring to her defense.

The EHLF would have Loki.

Xaelus allowed himself one last longing glance at the Conversion Serum syringe, before picking up the communications device, and placing it gently on the desk.

"Computer;  Safe the room."

The lighting dropped several dozen lumens, and a loud magnetic click from the door mixed with a harsh tritone warble, and a much fainter high pitched thrum indicative of sonic disruption, intended to jam any listening devices.

Xaelus tapped in a quick alphanumeric string from memory on the comm device's keypad.  After several moments of flashing yellow lights, a bright blue illumination bar told him that the connection had been made.

The voice on the other end barked out a single word.

"Albion."

The Councilor leaned over the device, and spoke the response to the challenge code in a clear, concise, sharp military cadence.

"Fuirich daonna ann an anam agus inntinn."

After a short pause, the voice on the other end of the line came back with a similar professional militaristic timbre.

"Cabinet-level authorization confirmed.  What are your orders sir?"

Xaelus paused to reconsider the order one last time.  The remainder of the cabinet might not take well to a unilateral action of such aggressive nature...  But if what the little JRSF lieutenant had told him was true...

...And her proof had been most convincing...

...Then there was no time to waste.  

The future of billions hung in the balance.

"Deploy Malakim."

The pause from the other end of the line was just long enough to strain Xaelus' patience, but not long enough for him to voice his exasperation.

"Yes sir.  Target?"

It was Xaelus' turn to pause, if only very briefly, inhaling deeply to steel himself.  There would be very serious repercussions for what he was about to do.  Blowback that might even cost him his position, if not his life.  He knew that.

But what other choice was there?

"Load target package for Medea contingency.  Destroy the Barrier Retarder platforms."

The Unicorn told the EarthGov Military Intelligence officers everything she knew.

The forgeries on the solid state optical storage drives she had brought with her were impeccable.  The  Intelligence Officers even tested her magical replay of the fabricated conversations she had been party to against the best technology they had.

The not-quite-a-Unicorn lieutenant never flinched.  The host screamed out repeatedly in an attempt to get a message through, but the Wisp nestled at the base of her horn had been there for over two years.  

There wasn't even a flicker on the Humans' screens to indicate that the lieutenant was being anything but truthful.

Nothing in her recounting, her data drives, or her magical memory replay, gave the slightest hint that the entirety of the story was a fabrication of The Nightmare.

The highest level of the EarthGov military, and the HLF, primed by both fear, and carefully backstopped false intelligence seeded through multiple other covert methods, bought the whole story hook, line, and sinker.

The Wisp inside the Unicorn knew, because two dozen other infiltrators across the JRSF command structure knew precisely what to look for via their own intelligence gathering apparatus.  They verified that the lie had taken root, and them promptly eliminated all evidence of the forthcoming attack.

The JRSF would be blind, deaf, and completely unaware.

The Nightmare did not particularly care which method the HLF used...  The Dispossessed were aware of no less than five ways that the HLF could reasonably eliminate the Barrier Retarders in a first strike.

All they had needed was a good reason to accept the drastically shortened lifespan of the planet that would result.

Fear of being denied any form of escape, in totality, had certainly done the trick.

It helped that Nightmare had spent considerable resources swaying the HLF towards a more pragmatic, less physical-Human-form obsessed mentality in the aftermath of Ragnar.  

The first iteration of the Front had served its purpose nicely, but there was no sense in allowing them to take unnecessary risks.  They'd very nearly cost her everything with their half-baked attempt to control the Retarder Platforms themselves.

Nightmare had seen to it personally that every single surviving Cabinet member had died within three months for that misstep.

The new face of the HLF was one that cared more for authoritarian, 'Humanity first' ideals, agnostic of physical form.  A much less risky, far more precise instrument for damaging the Alicorn's interests in both worlds.

Deep down, the host's mind knew what was going to happen next.  

It rankled the Wisp that the inevitability granted her a kind of strange peace.  The Wisp knew that it too would die when the moment inevitably came;  There could be no risk that an attempt at escape at the last moment would grant the Host a split second to save herself, nor that the EarthGov Army's instruments might log something that would make them suspicious.

When the Army Special Forces trooper pressed the barrel of his laser sidearm to the back of the Unicorn's head, the Wisp made a perfunctory attempt at deflecting the blast.  

A final pretense at self preservation, before the collimated light pierced a perfectly cauterized one inch diameter hole through the base of the mare's skull.

The Nightmare grinned to herself as she watched the strand of luminescence vanish from the Void.

Perfect.

Sildinar

I despised the vast majority of the finer trappings of royalty.  It was a common Gryphic sentiment.  

We appreciate ceremony, and pageantry, but not on behalf of rulers and commanders.  Humility and approachability are worth far more in a leader than external perception of regal nature.

But there were a few things traditionally associated with royalty that I quite enjoyed.

One of them was seeing the High Guard in action.

Exceptionally skilled Paladins, one and all, the High Guard was only ever deployed as a special tasks force in time of war, or as protection for journeys of great diplomatic importance.  Otherwise, its members served in a variety of other stations and capacities throughout the Kingdoms.

To see one alone, an outsider might not be able to discern the significance of their armor, and sigils, from any other Paladin.  But on seeing them assembled in formation, it was impossible for even the uninitiated to misunderstand.

Our Warriors generally made and modified their armor to their own designs and needs, and thus also their own sense of aesthetics.  The High Guard were no different, save that certain sigils, paints, and metallic finishes were expected to be standardized across their equipment.

The base coat of the armor was burnished alloy, further brushed to a dull finish, and then painted with a flat black coating.  The trim was universally bronze, polished to a glossy finish, and then covered in a thin coating of matte red paint, lending it the same unique golden-red hue as our blood.

On the chest, and shoulder, any emblems of clan, family, or other allegiance could be worn.  But on the joint of each wing, the symbol of the kingdom was universally affixed in brightly polished brass.

The actual patterning of the armor, and the weapons carried, were quite an eclectic mix, as one might expect with Gryphons.  But the unified colors and finishes, and shared wing emblems, created a degree of symmetry and uniformity rarely seen in our wider forces.

Fifty strong, the guard approached from over the north-western ridge of Canterlot's mountain, the sun playing brilliantly off the emblems on their wings as the fifty pairs beat in perfect time across the elongated diamond formation.

In the center, my mother and father shone like small stars, their parade armor polished to brilliant finish;  Silver alloy, red-gold bronze, and flecks of pure crystal.

Many cultures seemed to like to announce the arrival of military forces with horns.  It was a staple of Pony, Human, Zebra, and Yak culture, I knew for a fact.

We Gryphons felt ourselves perfectly well enough endowed with the gift of our own throats.

The leading edge of the formation announced their arrival with a very particular sound;  Fyrenn had once likened it to Human recordings of a Red Tailed Hawk.  It was a high, clear, piercing, unmistakable note that brought fear to enemies;  Respect from, and hope to, allies.

Given that it was coming from a dozen beaks at once, it was also very, very loud, even at range.

To their credit, none of the Canterlot Guards flinched.  Not even so much as the reflexive twitch of an ear.  

They held their perfect attention stance, a row of Day Guards to our right, and Night Guards to our left, lining the edges of the Castle's grand entrance walkway, banners bearing the emblems of both kingdoms snapping in the breeze above their heads.

Celestia, Luna, Shining Armor, and IJ stood beside me, the five of us forming a line abreast between the two rows of guards.  Fyrenn, Neyla, Alyra, Skye, and Carradan, stood behind us in a similar parade lineup.

The first six High Guard flared to land in two rows facing towards us, alighting with the soft clank of alloy on stone.

My Mother and Father were next, marching forward in ceremonial lockstep as the remainder of the Guard fell into a walking phalanx behind them.

The formation moved up to meet us, my mother sharing a long, heartfelt embrace with me before even offering any formal greeting to Celestia or Luna.  You can put a Gryphon in a crown, but you can not take the spirit of family from us.  Not even for propriety's sake.

I pivoted my ears backwards as I returned the hug, listening as my father offered a more formal greeting to Celestia and Luna.  As my mother smiled, and pulled away to tend to her own moment of duty, my father in turn found a moment to share a clasping of forelegs with me, and a warm smile.

Mercifully, formality more or less ceased for us at that point, and our group turned to mingle with Fyrenn's, as we all began to move back towards the castle proper.

I introduced Shining Armor to the High Guard's Captain with a few brief words, and she departed with him to oversee accommodations for the Guard.  And, doubtless, to discuss the potential for further joint training exercises.

I knew for a fact Fyrenn and Luna had both been outspoken in support of the idea.

The formation of Gryphons and Ponies began to march back towards the inner courtyard at a full parade pace on either side of the rest of us, quickly overtaking our more sedate meandering.  It was a sight, and a sound, that kindled hope in my heart.

Hooves, paws, and claws pounded stone in perfect time, providing a strident military tattoo without the need for drums.

I tore my eyes from the faces of the passing warriors just in time to see my mother snag Fyrenn, Alyra, and Neyla in a tight embrace with her wings, burying them in her obvious joy at their forthcoming union.

That sight too brought warmth to my soul.

They had both come a long way since I'd first known them.  Kephic and Varan's choice to make Fyrenn the first Gryphon Convert had been a boon to us all in countless ways.  Neyla's decision to go along on their adventures had finally brought forth the fruit we'd all been hoping for, ever since the first night at Fyrennn's Knighting Feast, when we'd seen them together for the first time.

And Alyra was a radiant joy to all who had cause to cross her path;  A growing young warrior well named, and well honed already.

Watching Princess Luna converse with my father, while Kephic introduced Celestia to my mother...  Introduced her as my mother the Gryphoness who raised me, not my mother the High Queen of the Gryphon Kingdoms...

Seeing Taranis share a laugh with Varan and Skye about something Alyra had said to Inside Joke, while the Changeling and Carradan stole a brief kiss that they thought no one else could see...

I even caught a glimpse of Shining Armor and the High Guard Captain sharing a moment of their own camaraderie as they passed through the Castle doors, tapping hoof to fisted claw in the time honored way of informal greeting and friendship...

As we approached the Castle's main doors ourselves, Hutchinson, Aston, William, Miles, and Shierel were there to greet us, triggering a whole host of new introductions, with smiles, and clawshakes, and embraces all around.

I stood to the back of the group for as long as I could, watching.

Drinking it in.

I caught myself smiling, debating for a moment, before simply giving in to the expression physically, and emotionally.

There would be time soon enough for worry, and concern.

I just wanted a moment to truly believe that we could survive.  That we could win.

Together.

Seeing them all there...  Five monarchs.  A Dragon.  Nine Gryphons.  Four Ponies.  A Changeling...

In that moment, I believed.