‘She could have come,’ complained Doombill – head of the last truly functional bank of the land, and called the “most honorable and altruistic Griff in the kingdom” by his mother – ‘I spent a lot on those carrots.’
‘And good ones at that,’ nodded Nightplume. ‘And the roasted snakes, too! Though, Lord Murkbeak, yours did not have that… good taste.’
The Lord of the Hollow Forest snorted in frustrated amusement. ‘Your vocabulary might be lacking, but your taste is great! My contribution was indeed lacking; what can I do about it?’
‘Bring one of your…’ Carine trailed off. ‘How you pronounce it, again? Boosh?’
‘Bûche,’ he corrected. ‘I thought I would have helped our guests reduce their sugar consumption. They are already fat enough,’ he cackled. ‘Ginger always helps losing weight.’
‘How kind,’ said Doombill, putting a claw on Murkbeak’s shoulder. Its very touch made the lord shudder, enough to slap the claw off.
‘Go tell your bitch sister I will not start to repay my loan until I have an extension and lowered interest.’
‘I already took it upon myself to lower the interest, but, as for your former point, Angel is not too keen on letting me act.’
‘I am willing to pay your “commissions”,’ he snarled.
‘Enough, you two!’ opposed Yerkati Hank. ‘We have more pressing concerns.’
‘Cadance is not even present,’ put Greta, frustrated by the prolonged wait. They had managed to convince Cadance to meet again two days after the festivities. No one saw them in the meanwhile; she had requested privacy, a request her somewhat angsty expression made them take seriously.
‘I know those Ponies can be lazier than a tired turtle, but pretentious they are…’ Gilda paused to correct herself. ‘They can be very pretentious, never mind.’
Carine smirked. ‘I wonder why they have been that isolated. Is it something inherent with the “Empire”?
‘Perhaps,’ said Gilda. ‘Few are those amongst the populace that ever sought her out. It was always about the Sisters and Twilight. I guess it is fitting Cadance was the one that came to us with genuine intentions.’
‘Not that “friendship conference” or whatever that old hag of Celestia wanted. Not that the crone ever cared about things beyond her interest,’ put forward the usually silent Solarnail – arch-mage of the Griffon Kingdom and Prince of Glarus. ‘All those Alicorns are problems. When that “Luna” popped out from who-knows-where, I sensed those… ripples. Then that Twilight was “elevated” and the same thing; why you trust one of them is beyond me. Why anyone ever does, is beyond me.’
A collective role of the eyes and the occasional exhalations followed.
‘Then you should have stayed home,’ declared Yerkati. ‘Your blood tension is,’ he pointed at his own skull, ‘playing tricks.’
‘All I am saying,’ opposed Solarnail, scratching the back of his neck, ‘is that if they are taken off the head of Equestria, not only would they experience true strife, they would also be liberated from tyranny.’
‘Calm down there, eh?’ interjected Gilda. ‘You pale in front of them, but it is not to the point their powers can be used for tyranny.’
‘You lack proper historical context, girl,’ he countered.
Solarnail mumbled something indecipherable. Gilda winced and grunted in return. She sat in the chair that was reserved for Gruff, and the council returned to a tense silence, only occasionally broken by tapping claws.
Minutes later, a knight entered the conference room, awakening the Griffs that hoped it was the meal they had ordered from the local market, preferring to pay for those instead of purchasing Gilda’s famous scones. The knight saluted them all – as was expected from protocol – and headed straight toward the passive Sigismund.
‘So?’ asked Doombill.
‘They are not here,’ calmly replied Sigismund. ‘Their bed is untouched, but their belongings remain. There is a picture of the royal couple with their daughter stuck on the corner of the bed.’
The arch-mage grunted. Gilda took a long, deep breath and grabbed her head with her claws; Greta tried to calm her while containing her own emotions. Carine wished for her husband to be there. Murkbeak wanted to return to his “cabin” in the woods. Doombill cursed Cadance for making him have to confront his younger sister, joined by the Lord of the Hollow Forest.
‘So…’ began Yerkati. ‘Should we order food for all of us?’
‘Yeah…’ Nightplume vaguely agreed.
Carine closed her eyes and snorted amusingly. They all glared at her, but some knew why she was amused. ‘My husband,’ she began, keeping her smiled, ‘would have been amused by the parallels. I cannot help myself. Sorry.’
‘Celestia will take over,’ said Grifone Tessin, old friend of Carine’s husband and the province of the same name – simultaneously the poorest and richest of the kingdom, below Naniwish but above Griffonstone, its wealth only explained by its lack of inhabitants and its beautiful, warm gambling areas. ‘Thoros always warned me of it.’
‘He always exaggerates,’ said Anna Komn – daughter of the mayor of the free-city of Bozanti.
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Nightplume, shushing himself by putting his claws over his beak before reprisal came.
‘We can’t do a thing about it,’ said Solarnail, trying to shift the topic. ‘Now, what shall we order? I am willing to pay.’
‘Let us discuss and vote,’ proposed Greta.
‘Wonderful idea!’ exclaimed the Arch-mage.
Lunch had been simple, but long. Cheese, wine, and some roasted rodents shared between all thirty members of the Regency Council. Surprisingly, the impassive Sigismund had joined in with the gathering. Of course, some tensions flared between old rivals, but they were all quelled by the other members without the Chapter Master’s participation.
They all rested, now, sharing the odd story to each other around coffee and a yellow cake made without eggs, trying to forget Cadance and Shining had ever come here.
Then, suddenly, the air flickered. The knights and Solarnail readied themselves for battle with the instincts of predators.
Sigismund ordered weapons down, locking gaze with the Prince of Glarus, as familiar shapes emerged the etheric maelstrom.
‘Princess Cadance,’ declared Sigismund behind a smile.
She looked wasted. Her eyes screamed exhaustion. Shining Armor was holding tight to her. Trails of evaporated tears stained her fur, making Armor’s armor damages feel as trivial.
Gilda rushed towards her, checking Cadance for any sign of miss-treatment. Solarnail stiffened his pose, and turned to return to his chair when everyone else had gotten up.
‘What happened?’ asked Gilda.
Cadance told them. She told them all about the Necrons. She excused herself for the secrecy. She excused herself for the not being earnest about the reason behind their odd injuries.
‘I am not colluding with them,’ she sobbed. ‘I swear.’
No one had asked a thing, they had all stood hearing her talk about that species from another world. She answered a question unasked, but to whom the answer was destined, even Armor wasn’t sure.