They felt more powerful by the day, now. With every waning day, they fed on more hate and anger. Their ancient magic, denounced by the pillars and ignorant ponies as evil, was rejoicing and returning to them bit by bit. It was such a distant memory at first, but quickly, they remembered a time when they were far more powerful and mighty than now. A time when they were so close to grandeur, and domination. Ponies far and wide adored them, and that adoration drove them to believe all others were simply unnerving, undeserving, annoying fools. Exactly what they wanted them to believe, of course.
The mortals came down to their prison more and more frequently. A few times a week at first, then eventually once a day. Now, it was at least 3 times a day, and sometimes with multiple ponies in tow, too. If they had been in any position different than this, they may have felt annoyed themselves. Singing for only one, or a handful of ponies at once was such a slow-go. What they craved was a great performance, a true show and concert like in days gone by. All should hear their voices, follow their beat and fall under their spell. But they found themselves begrudgingly complacent, at this point. Their time was fast approaching, now, after all.
The crack in their cell had splintered further, much to their delight. Sometimes it ruptured a little further while those mortals were visiting them, too, causing great delight from the outsiders as their so-called saviours were one-step closer to freedom. A delight that was definitely shared by the trio.
For over a thousand years they had been quietly, or sometimes not so quietly whenever their hot-headed leader lost her temper, contemplating their return to Equestria. Their Revenge, a swift sweep to topple Starswirl and the pillars and achieve payback for their great crimes. And once the pillars were gone, Equestria, and then the world at large would hear their voices. Everycreature would bop their heads and shake their limbs as their melody dictated. An age of strife and mutual hatred would begin, and together they would take their place as the just, natural rulers of the world. A world where musical and song ruled. As nature had intended for them.
But now? Now they were actually about to break free. It was almost surreal, in a sense. Sure they had always wanted this, and they definitely did, now, but demanding for something that seems a far cry away from actually happening, and demanding something that is perhaps a week away, now, is... different.
How were they going to rule, exactly? What was going to be their first move? What even did the world look like? And... wait. A thought crossed their mind, then. If they really had been locked up, banished to isolated oblivion for over a thousand years then... were the pillars even alive?
First desperation and dread filled them, or most of them anyway. The youngest one didn't seem to know what they were flustered about. If their designated arch-rivals were just ordinary ponies... then they were really long gone. Probably buried and long decayed, with their graves perhaps not even known to ponykind anymore. A footnote in ancient history, by chance.
The two elders felt rage overcome them. Imprisoned for all these years, a thousand years of nothingness, and then those demonic, accursed ponies have the gall to just up and die of natural causes merely years after they did this unjust crime to them!? Who did they think they were, those petty, idiotic mortals, to brazenly interrupt their world tour and final crescendo, to lecture them and lock them away! No way this was the natural way of things. No mortal could ever beat them by means intended by nature itself. It was that buffoon Starswirl and his alchemistic witchcraft magics that did this to them. Probably some demonic concotion or spell that caused all this.
And yet... they would never get their rage-filled hooves on that pathetic stallion. That fool was nothing but a skeleton by now, they reckoned.
And then... a smile crossed their lips. The clutzy ditz of their group, the youngest one, made a good point, once in a blue moon. This time, she reasoned that, since the pillars are dead, but they aren't... wouldn't that be a good thing? Wouldn't that reinforce that the pillars knew they could never defeat them in a fair fight?
Surprised, the other two acknowledged and affirmed her words. It's true, the pillars didn't so much as attempt an open fight with them. Nor did Starswirl, for all hos boastful demeanour of how great, wise and powerful he was, have the magical power to actually, truthfully 'defeat' them. Perhaps he even claimed he defeated the three of them to the ponies of Equestria, or even the pillars themselves. But he knew what he had done. And what he couldn't do. He could not destroy the trio. At best, he used his powers to try and contain them. Somehow, anyplace where they couldn't be heard or reached.
He was a fool. They heard the Seaponies approach again, for the second time that day, with another two captives in their grasp. They were terrified and resistant. Perhaps by now word has spread about them in this 'Hippogriffia' as they were told it was called? No matter. There would be no fear of them once they revealed true harmony to the Hippogriffs, and there would only be one triad that was fit to rule them, in the end. Them, and then the world.
Starswirl, you old, pathetic fool. You could not stop this show. Only delay it.
Violet Facade sat in her office within the AHAC Headquarters on Mount Aris, reading through heaps and heaps of paperwork spread out before her. Most of them read 'TOP SECRET' or 'CLASSIFIED' on them in read, bold print.
Her purple cloak of feathers, in her hippogriff form anyway, was uncleaned and uncared for these days. She looked visibly exhausted and nervous, an impression only further amplified by the visible cigarette smoke that hung in the air all throughout the office. Even now she raised a half-burnt cigarette to her beak, and inhaled deep, only to release more smoke into the already contaminated air around her. It really didn't do much to calm her nerves anymore, but she continued smoking anyways.
The blinds on her windows had been lowered days ago by her. Ever since, the only light in the room came from her desk lamp, and the occasional light from the hallway outside whenever someone entered the office. It was a depressing mood, but... it reflected her predicament perfectly in a way.
Had she messed up? Had she played her cards wrong? Could... she still turn this around, perhaps? It wasn't too late, was it?
She took out another paper from yet another classified folder. Another report from yet another agent.
"The damn Mayor of Howlington..." she muttered all to herself, quietly. She clenched her right claw into a fist and bashed it against her desk in rage, squeezing the cigarette butt she was still holding all the while. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she continued, tossing the butt of the used-up cigarette in a half-full ashtray on the desk.
Whatever hope she had just managed to talk into herself was all but gone again, now. Word for word, her agent's report mentioned that, like virtually everyone else who was 'associated' with that cult-like organisation whom they still somehow didn't know much of anything about, the Mayor of the City of Howlington too had begun showing those same symptomps. He was suddenly hostile to his own civil servants, and even reprimanded his bodyguards and police staff. He, too, must have somehow been snatched by those people when the AHAC was looking the other way.
Her eyes darted towards the door when she heard somegriff approaching. She simply waited, petrified almost, with the paper she'd read still in her claws.
"Violet."
She relaxed a little, hearing Sandy Breeze's voice as he opened her door and let himself in.
"Yeah, I'm..." she paused for a moment as she looked at him, then broke eye contact and looked back at the report she was holding. "I'm here. Hey."
She couldn't help it but she somehow felt uneasy. Granted, she often felt uneasy in these days. People you like or love chit chat, shake hands or hug you, you part ways, and the next morning they might absolutely despise you. It's all the work of that... well, she didn't know even what to call them. They were something of a cult, but were they really? Despite these changes in attitude, nothing actually seemed to be known about what they do. What was their goal, and why weren't they a violent bunch like all those fundamentalist, esoteric cults from abroad that she'd heard so much about. Even just looking at the Batponies across the channel, in Chiropterra, had her thinking of the violent, unforgiving faith of theirs in Nightmare Moon. If you didn't praise her and follow their exact tenets? Well, forced labour would be the best outcome, though a bullet was probably more likely if what she'd heard was correct.
"-Violet!"
Violet's sleep-deprived eyes widened, and she blinked three times over as she looked over to her Deputy again.
"Damn, what's wrong with you nowadays? I was talking to you."
Had she really lost herself in thought so much just then? Ugh. Her head really was buzzing.
"Sorry, Sandy. Really. It's just..."
"Yeah, yeah, you're probably 'busy', huh? You always are. Stop looking for excuses, y'know?"
The purple-coated hippogriff sighed. In a way he was right, though the comment was rather cruel and unappreciative of all she'd been doing and sacrificing for this job. Then again, she was the reason the Cult was still rampant, with her deadeye set on the Far-Left and Far-Right instead who, ironically, were now tearing themselves and each other apart more and more on the open streets, with suspicions that the cult members were already infiltrating and using both sides to stir up trouble to cover for them. She hated that. Because it worked for them.
"What's the news?" she asked the stallion.
"Well, Posada was nearly bombed by a member of Aris First who threw a grenade into a Communist Rally. Surprisingly, nopony was seriously injured or killed, seems to have been a rather incompetent attacker anyway."
"A Grenade...? Gods.."
A deep breath, and sigh. That's all the Chief could really do.
"Police caught the griff?"
"Well, yes, but he was released the day after," Sandy said, surprisingly not seeming very disturbed at those news.
"They what??" Violet gave out. Sandy only shrugged.
"Seems to be that the local police chief is as anti-communist as you. He withheld a court trial and, more or less illegally, freed the griffon. He said the Communists were the source of all evil, and that since we, and the Queen, couldn't protect society against these kinds of threats, others have to."
Slowly, Violet felt herself fall back against the backrest of her leather office chair, her eyes falling shut.
"Does... does the Queen know of this?"
"I thought you wanted to keep it wraps? Can't decide what to do, as usual?" Sandy returned. She knew he wasn't entirely on side with her idea of keeping the cultist problem from the Queen, but even so she couldn't use the sudden hostile poking right now.
"I did. Then. But this is..."
She paused. A deep sigh escaped her beaks and she opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. She saw the faint, thin cigarette smoke clinging there, still, though much of it was escaping through the half-opened door to her office, into the hallway now.
"This is out of our control, now. We fucked up, Sandy."
"You did. I don't think I was the one stupid enough to keep this deliberately a secret, huh?"
"Sandy, just, shut up right now, please."
"Or what? Are you gonna threaten me again? It's all thanks to you that this is happening, you know, and I told you in the past that you were far too zealous with your anti-left zeal."
Violet's eyes rolled over to eye her subordinate, but she kept her head in place. He was capable and intelligent, but his methods differed from her own. Whilst she was always suspicious of foreign influences and especially political movements, he was always willing and intending to snuff out anti-harmonic activities before they even cropped up, and requesting whatever help was necessary, even from abroad.
She diverted her eyes back to the ceiling. She tried to not think about his insults right now. They didn't usually fight like thi, and even when they disagreed Sandy didn't insult her like that, but she couldn't say she blamed him. Not now.
"We've lost control, Sandy. The Queen must know. As much as I wanted to tackle the left and right first, I fucked up and now I fear we're almost at a checkmate. Commies won't matter when everyone in Aris hates one another. And they will if we don't do anything. 3 weeks ago this Cult was purely a Seaquestrian thing that seemed contained to the Seaponies. And look at us now. It's taking over the fucking hippogriff cities, Sandy. I don't wanna say we might lose Mount Aris itself, soon enough."
"Surely you don't mean to say you're that stupid to let that happen?" her deputy inquired.
"I hope not," she answered, deflecting the hostility in his voice with a depressed monotony. "But we can't do it alone, anymore."
She leaned forward again, slowly. A brief glance at all the reports on her desk, then at Sandy.
"I'll telephone the Queen to come here post-haste. In the meantime, we might have to consolidate our... 'defences', dare I say. This group needs a reclassification, and fast. Non-violent or not, if they absorb everyone into their ranks, Aris won't be what it used to be, and we can't let that happen."
Sandy seemed to roll his eyes.
"Riiight. You want me to call some people up, then, since you're 'busy' as usual?"
"Please do," she replied simply.
"Sure. Try not to mess things up anymore than you already did, please."
The Hippogriff turned his back to the Chief of the AHAC, and moved to shut the door behind him. A quiet voice came from her, heard just before he shut the door:
"I'll try."