//------------------------------// // Part Forty-Four // Story: The Princess and the Kaiser // by UnknownError //------------------------------// “The arm has to come off,” Paste stated. Her horn shone with violet light and stretched the limb out from the bed. The arm and claw had begun to turn a distressingly black color, in contrast to the gold feathers and fur along the griffon’s body. Her patient struggled against her grip. “Please!” the griffon rasped. His eyes were wild, dilated from fever and blood loss. His uniform’s sleeves had been cut away, and the bullet had been extracted, but fragments remained lodged in the bone, slowly poisoning the limb. Flurry Heart approached the bedside, drawn by the struggle. She moved between the patients in the overcrowded floor, casting sleep spells and what little healing magic she knew to ease pains. The alicorn was grateful she hadn’t managed to entirely clean her fur; the red tint helped hide the occasional dribble from her nose from exhaustion. The griffon’s wild orange eyes focused on her lean body. “Princess!” he coughed. “Please, don’t let them take my arm…” he spoke in Aquileian. “Do we have any potions left to help fight the infection?” Flurry asked. “Very few,” Plaster Paste answered brusquely. Flurry didn’t care; the unicorn’s eyes were bloodshot and she frequently bit her lip to stay awake. “We’re saving them for the critical cases.” “Please!” the griffon begged. “Magic, anything, don’t take my arm!” “If magic could mend any injury,” Flurry softly responded in Aquileian, “we would not have lost the war. We cannot pull the fragments out with magic; it will only cause more damage.” The griffon whimpered. Flurry’s ears twitched, and she glanced over her shoulders and groaned in exasperation. Sophie Altiert limped down the row of cots, using a broken stool as a crutch. Her gray fur was swathed in bandages along one side. One wing was tucked into a sling. “I will knock you out again,” Flurry warned. Her horn glowed with a sleep spell. “Wait until I am back in bed, Princess,” Altiert gasped and hauled herself up to the bed. “You should be,” Paste snorted. “Stop getting up.” Sophie didn’t answer and clasped the griffon’s good claw. “You fought well,” she said in Aquileian. “This is just one more battle.” He shook his head weakly against the deflated pillow. “No!” he turned away from Flurry and the medic to stare at his commander. “Please,” he stuttered. Flurry cast her spell and the bolt hit the soldier in the head. His eyes rolled back and his claw went limp in Altiert’s grip. His breathing was ragged. Paste sighed and pulled her surgical tray forward. She picked up a hacksaw in her magic, then scraped away the blood from the previous amputation. The saw floated in her magic above his arm. “I can close the wound afterwards, Princess.” “I’ll do it,” Flurry ordered. Paste bit her lip again and the saw began to descend. “No,” Flurry interrupted. “I’ll do all of it. Show me where to cut.” The tired medic glanced at Sophie on the opposite side of the cot, then tapped the sawblade above the elbow. Flurry stared down at it. He’ll lose most of his arm. She ignored the offered saw floating in Paste’s magic. “Hold his arm steady in your magic. Were you going to cauterize it?” “Yes,” Paste answered. She dropped the saw back on the tray and straightened out the griffon’s arm. He moaned in his sleep. Flurry’s horn glowed for one long breath, and a thin laser descended. It sliced through the extended arm, right where she was supposed to cut. Paste flinched from the heat of the beam. The arm flopped awkwardly in her magic. There was no blood. Flurry’s spell was hot enough to stop it. The beam scorched the crystal floor underneath the cot, leaving a thin black mark. The soldier spasmed, but did not wake up. Paste collected the limb in her magic and put in in a bucket below her cart. Flurry held a hoof up to her nose and snorted. Droplets of blood splattered onto her frog that she ignored. She surreptitiously wiped her hoof on the floor. “He came with you from Aqueilia,” Altiert said quietly. “He was on your boat.” “I have no medals to offer him,” Flurry admitted, “and what medal could replace an arm?” “It is enough that you are here,” Altiert stated. “When the fever breaks, I will tell him he had the honor of the Princess herself attending his wound.” “A hollow honor.” “So is a medal,” Altiert responded. “I have won enough to know. There are thousands of crystal ponies alive today that would not have been. The crystal ponies have seen few griffons, but they have thanked us all the same.” “The Crystal Empire was here long before Grover the Great, before any griffon ever arrived from across the ocean,” Flurry explained. “Sombra banished it before widespread contact was established.” “Perhaps that’s why they don’t view us with suspicion,” Altiert mused. “It took generations of Aquileians for one identity to form between ponies and griffons.” Paste pushed her cart away to the next patient, not understanding the conversation in Aquileian. Flurry nodded to her, and the medic shallowly nodded back. “Why were there ponies in Aquielia?” Flurry asked. “I learned the language, but not the history.” Altiert clacked her beak. “The Republicans taught that the Aquileian ponies were descended from those that migrated south during the Time of Frost. They settled in the low valleys and joined with the early tribes to fend off the Herzlanders.” “You mean the Windigos.” “Probably,” Sophie admitted and rolled her eyes. "It is a sore topic, and most don't wish to speak of it." “You don’t believe that version,” Flurry assumed. “The Discrets always said that our ponies were descended from the slaves of war parties, early raids across the sea thousands of years ago, or skirmishes with the Riverlands.” “I find it hard to believe that they would become devoted subjects if that was the case,” Flurry snorted. “Many early griffon flocks ate their captives as a tribute to their gods,” Altiert answered bluntly. “Before the Trinity, most gods were brutal, predatory things. At the very least, Aquileians didn’t sacrifice them.” “Sounds like Maar,” Flurry responded. Altiert’s feathers ruffled. “Perhaps. Maar is the oldest. The repressed instincts of wild flights and vicious claws, of predator and prey. His worship is outlawed in all of Griffonia.” She looked troubled and pushed herself upright, clinging to her stool for balance. “I’m surprised you know that name, Princess.” “I’ve heard it around,” Flurry deflected. Altiert paused for a moment. “The Herzlanders we fished from the sea after your battles gave you a nickname. Did you hear it there?” “No.” “Maar’s Daughter.” “I suppose that’s flattering for a pony,” Flurry chuckled. “Go back to bed, commander.” Altiert clasped a claw to her breast and slowly dipped her functional wing. “Your father,” she said quietly, “spoke of your home once. I am proud to be here.” Flurry looked to the ceiling of the old factory, now an overcrowded, overused hospital. “It was far more beautiful once,” she responded. “Princess!” a voice called from the edge of the lines of cots. The armed crystal pony waved a hoof. “Sir Spike is here to see you!” Flurry nodded to Altiert and trotted down the line of wounded ponies and griffons, holding her head high and steps even. Her hooves clacked along the crystal floor. The crystal pony bowed and inclined his head to Spike. The tall dragon had slouched through the door and looked worried. He wrung his claws. “We should speak privately.” Flurry cast the changeling detection spell on him as a precaution, then the pit in her stomach grew when he didn’t have a smart reply to the magic sweeping over his scales. Flurry followed the dragon outside to a nearly deserted street. Patrols walked along the factories and a few guards were posted along the rooftops. It was nearly dusk, but nopony could really tell the time based on the sky. The roiling storm outside the shield shrouded the Crystal City in a perpetual gloom. The electrical grid was barely functional, and the glowing crystals in the lampposts struggled to light the street. One changeling dangled from the nearest lamppost. Her ill-fitting uniform had been meant for a griffon. Spike gave the dead mare a conflicted look, then stopped a few hooves from the lamp. “Tell me,” Flurry ordered. “The shield is shrinking,” Spike said with a near whisper. Flurry didn’t breathe. She stared into his green eyes unblinkingly. The alicorn struggled to swallow as her throat went dry. “What?” “The shield is collapsing,” Spike repeated. “It’s slow, but it’s moving inwards.” Flurry looked up, scanning the pink shield and watching belts of ice and snow crash against it before tumbling back into the storm. “Are you sure?” “Yes, Rainbow confirmed it. She’s flown patrols all along the shield and sworn them to secrecy.” “Rainbow’s not exactly the best source-” “Flurry,” Spike interrupted with a harsh whisper. “I saw it myself. Maybe a hoof length a day, but it’s happening.” Flurry’s blue and purple tail tucked between her legs. She shook her head and the curls bounced against the golden band. “No,” she said. “It can’t. We liberated the city. The crystal ponies are happiest they’ve ever been in years.” The crowd outside the palace had grown all day. The cheers were deafening every time one of the condemned unicorns was flung from a balcony. The cheering could be heard all throughout the city. Spike closed his eyes and struggled with the next sentence. “The Changelings used the ponies in the cocoons as batteries, and we removed them. They were the only thing keeping the Heart stable.” “It’s not stable!” Flurry snarled. “They plugged my mother’s corpse into it!” “I know!” Spike shouted back. “I was the one that found her!” A few of the sentries on the rooftops looked down, then wisely looked away from the dragon and the alicorn. Flurry stomped a rear hoof into the cobblestones. “Okay, it’s just another problem. We’re running out of food and medicine, and now the Heart is failing. What do we do?” Spike bit his lower lip with a fang. “Dusty and Far Sight are looking through the remaining documents, but the Changelings destroyed a lot. The library was ransacked years ago." He ran a claw of the frill on his head. "The Crystal Heart is old, Flurry. It’s probably the oldest artifact around. Starswirl didn’t even know where it came from.” “It’s not old,” Flurry responded, confused. “I destroyed it when I was born.” Spike gave her an even look. “And Sunburst rebuilt it. He still hasn’t been executed.” Flurry’s muzzle spasmed. “No.” “Twilight’s…” Spike struggled to say the word, “Twilight’s gone, and Starlight’s gone. He’s the only one left that knows anything about the Heart.” “He had years to rebuild it for the Changelings, and he failed.” “Unless he kept it weak like that so they wouldn’t kill him,” Spike offered. Flurry stared up at the dragon with wide eyes. “The stallion I knew died in the evacuation,” Spike sighed. “The thing still here is just a shell. I don’t know if it was intentional, but I never thought he could’ve done any of this.” “Did Starlight know he was here?” “No,” Spike answered and looked at the body hanging from the lamppost. “She thought he was dead. It would’ve destroyed her to find him like this.” He sniffled and a thin line of smoke drifted from his nostrils. “I’m actually glad she didn’t live to see this.” He looked down at Flurry. “One life for the city.” Flurry shook her head uselessly and extended her wings. She didn’t reply to Spike and flew towards the Palace. The herd of crystal ponies was at least three hundred thousand strong. They gathered on nearby rooftops because the square was so crowded. The young and strong helped the old stand upright so they could watch. The few foals, far too few, were propped up on bony and dull backs. The crystal ponies cheered, but their eyes were hard and unkind. As Flurry passed over them, a ripple ran through the crowd. “Princess!” voices called out. It solidified into a chant and stomp of hooves. Flurry flapped her wings before her parent’s destroyed balcony. It had been hastily rebuilt with repurposed wood from the furniture inside. Their bedroom had been reserved for Chrysalis, whenever she wished to stay, which was apparently only once. The pink and blue drapes had been replaced with black. Several portraits of Chrysalis leading armies and other events that never occurred had been hung on the walls, but those had been defaced and burned days ago. The only thing the Changelings kept the same was her parent’s bed. It still had white, blue, and pink sheets with purple pillows. There was something deeply wrong about Chrysalis keeping the bed, and Flurry forced it out of her mind as she landed on the balcony. Six bodies swung below the wooden rails. Duskcrest, Jadis, and four guards backed up and bowed to her. “Princess,” Jadis said reverentially. “We just finished with Fact Finder.” “Which one was that?” Flurry asked. “The tan unicorn,” Duskcrest provided. “He shit himself, Princess.” “Most corpses do.” “While he was still alive,” Duskcrest clarified. Flurry looked past the smirking griffon. Sunburst sat near the bed, staring at the sheets with runny eyes. He kept the black cloak on. “Would you like to do it yourself?” Jadis asked with a bitter smile. “It’s his turn. The crowd’s waiting.” “Stay on the balcony,” Flurry ordered. “I wish to speak to him alone.” Duskcrest blinked and moved aside. Jadis looked confused as well, flicking her white tail. Despite her apparent cheer, her crystal coat was still dull. Flurry trotted to Sunburst. He didn’t react to her presence. She sat down before the bed and summoned a shield around the two of them, turning it opaque. The noise from the crowd faded. Sunburst didn’t say anything. His chains clinked together under the cloak. Flurry waved a hoof at the black cloak. “Why are you wearing that?” “They won’t let me take it off,” he responded dully. “The Changelings wouldn’t let me take it off, either.” “You can, if you wish.” Sunburst fumbled with the catch between his hooves, then let the cloak slide down his back. The burns on his side were ugly and raw, even after all the years. “Did Starlight know you were alive?” Flurry asked. “They watched me to see if I would send a message. I was told to bring more ponies from the mines.” “And you did.” “They would’ve done it anyway.” “Without your help,” Flurry snapped. Sunburst didn’t react, and she exhaled heavily. “The Heart is failing. We dismantled the cocoons.” Sunburst shrugged. “It was the only solution to keep the city alive.” “Was it?” Flurry asked. “Is there any other way?” Sunburst turned his runny eyes from the bed and squinted at her. “Are you asking for my help?” he said in a small voice. Flurry took a deep breath. “You rebuilt the Heart once. Spike thinks you sabotaged it to stay alive for the Changelings, because they would kill you otherwise.” Sunburst shrank to the ground. “Spike said that, huh?” he asked bitterly. “Is that true?” “Go get Thorax,” he muttered. “He’ll tell you.” “Do you blame them?” Flurry snorted. “They don’t know you. They never thought you could have done any of this.” “I know you,” Sunburst answered. He turned his head to look behind Flurry, seemingly staring through the blue shield to stare at the balcony. “The ponies out there used to call you a little monster for destroying the Crystal Heart. I always defended you.” Flurry’s eyes hardened. “Crystaller,” she began, “you claim to have done everything to keep the crystal ponies alive. This is your duty. You’re not here for what you did for me and my parents. You had a responsibility to the crystal ponies.” “To die?” Sunburst asked. “When I crawled from that burning truck, I felt like I was going to die. When the Changelings drained me, I felt like dying." His muzzle twitched. "Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever felt pain like that?” Flurry closed her eyes. “I’ve ordered my subjects to be left behind,” the alicorn said. “I’ve watched a colt half my age be blasted into ash by my spell. I watched a friend kill himself so I wouldn’t have to kill him. I know pain.” “No, you don’t,” Sunburst snorted. “I won’t spare your life,” Flurry said softly, “but I’ll delay your execution. You can help us restore the Heart, and die with some semblance of dignity as the pony my parents knew and loved, not the one wearing that cloak.” She pulled the black rag off Sunburst and cast it aside. Sunburst sat quietly, looking at the alicorn with watery blue eyes. Flurry stared back with her own pale, icy eyes. “Please, Sunburst,” she pleaded. Sunburst opened and closed his mouth, then abruptly looked away. “They were right about you,” he whispered. “You always were a monster.” Flurry Heart exhaled and dropped the shield. “It’s time,” she announced to Duskcrest and Jadis. The four guards hauled Sunburst up and carried him over to the balcony. His eyes were wide and terrified as Jadis slung the noose around his neck with a sharp smile. “Crystaller,” she greeted with venom. “Do you have any last words?” Sunburst stammered and failed to respond, so Jadis pushed him forward. The crowd below recognized the unicorn and their screams increased in pitch and tempo. Hooves pounded on the cobblestones with staccato rhythm. Flurry squeezed her way onto the balcony beside Duskcrest. The wood groaned under the combined weight of all the creatures standing on it, so the guards retreated into the room. Flurry raised her wings and her head high. Her crown caught the light of one of the glowing crystals along the outside of the palace and glittered. The crowd began to chant at the sight of their Princess. Jadis checked the rope and nodded to Flurry. Flurry Heart nodded back, and Sunburst was pushed up to the edge. His hooves skidded against the wood as his legs locked up. At the last moment, Flurry extended a wing and stopped Jadis from pushing him over. The crowd quieted down, and Jadis hesitated. Flurry Heart looked down into Sunburst’s terrified eyes, then lowered her head to whisper into his pinned back ear. “I’m not a monster,” Flurry whispered, “but I’m not much of a Princess. A Princess should protect her ponies, and I’ve failed at that all my life.” She pulled her head back. “Thorax asked that I kill you quickly.” Flurry nodded to Jadis, and the mare shoved Sunburst off the edge. He neighed as he fell, eyes wide and panicked. Flurry grabbed his legs in her magic and pulled down right as the rope went taut. Sunburst died instantly as his neck snapped. He dangled above the sea of crystal ponies who waited years to see him die, who watched as he took their families and friends. And they whinnied victoriously and raised their hooves to the Princess. Princess Flurry Heart stared back at the ocean of dull coats and bitter, tired eyes, then looked up to the storm wall beyond the shield. It seemed closer, and lightning arced across the pink surface. Her little golden band felt very heavy on her head.