Wise Beyond Her Years

by Pen Stroke

Canterlot

“Ah, Ms. Rarity, it’s always a pleasure to see you my dear.”

“Thank you, Fancy Pants,” she replied, politely returning his warm greeting. Rarity had just enjoyed a private carriage ride through Canterlot to Fancy Pants’ estate. The gentlestallion seemed eager to have her visit, especially after Twilight’s coronation. Whether they liked it or not, Canterlot elite now saw Rarity and her friends as very important ponies, despite their eccentricities.

And Rarity did like it ever so much.

“I must say, I was rather surprised to get your letter,” Fancy Pants said as he helped Rarity down from the carriage and showed her into his manor. “I knew we were expecting you for our little soiree next month, but, I wasn’t about to turn down a chance to spend some time with my favorite Ponyville fashion designer. How has business been as of late?”

Rarity smiled. “It’s been wonderful, thank you. My new line is coming along and I just got a few very important orders. Still, we both know I am here on other business.” The doors to the manor opened before them, a butler bowing his head respectfully as they moved inside. “Were you able to fulfill the request?”

“It took some doing, but we were able to gather all the items you listed. Though, I must say my curiosity has been piqued. Just why do you need so many historical paintings and artifacts?”

“It’s for a... let’s call it a research project Twilight is doing,” Rarity answered as Fancy Pants showed her to a room just off his manor’s foyer. It was the estate's sitting room, but all the furniture had been pushed to the sides to make room for numerous easels and a single table. The easels held paintings that had come from private collections across Canterlot. Most of the paintings were shoulder-up portraits of famous zebras with eyes that seemed to watch them as Rarity and Fancy Pants moved into the room. The table was ladened with trinkets and heirlooms from times both recent and long passed.

“Some fine zebra pictures here, if I do say so myself,” Fancy Pants said. “A few decorated military officers, a naval captain famed for her work against pirates, and even a famous philosopher poet, Panyin. From what I’ve read, she was pivotal in ensuring the peace in Equestria after Princess Luna’s attempted coup as Nightmare Moon.”

“Really?” Rarity said, approaching the portrait in question that showed a zebra mare. Her mane was pulled back in a long ponytail and she had on a pair of small, round glasses along with some hoops of gold around her neck. She seemed very thin, a weight likely maintained by a very stringent diet. “How did she do that?”

“Ah, through her philosophical poetry of course,” Fancy Pants answered with a chortle. “Equestria as a whole was given a somewhat rude awakening to how powerful the princesses were. Some ponies were afraid what we would do if Princess Celestia turned against us, especially when they thought Princess Luna, her own equal, was gone forever. Panyin became a respected philosopher not long after that, and was carried into the limelight of politics by her unbending support for Princess Celestia’s rule.

“She is, in fact, the author of a favorite quote of mine,” Fancy Pants mused. “The longer the farmer has served the soil, the longer he has known harvest’s toil, the better he will come to know the land, himself, and nature’s subtle, unforgiving demand.”

“So... your favorite quote is about farmers?” Rarity asked, a bit embarrassed by the fact the quote had gone over her head.

“That would be the literal translation, I suppose. But, as I understand it, the proverb is more related to respecting and trusting in your elders and their knowledge. It was a cornerstone of Panyin’s platform that Princess Celestia needed to remain on the throne. Even before Princess Luna’s betrayal, the pair had ruled Equestria for about a century. They each had and have more experience and foresight than any single living pony.”

“The wisdom of age,” Rarity commented.

“Precisely,” Fancy Pants said with an approving nod. “Though, I must say that Panyin seemed to be a walking contradiction to her own preachings. She was a wise mare for how young she was. It’s a shame she died when she did. I can’t imagine how much more wisdom she could have imparted to this world.”

“She died young?” Rarity questioned.

“Ah yes, a true tragedy,” Fancy Pants said as he used an eyeglass cloth to clean his monocle. “From what I’ve read, she was stolen away from her home in the middle of the night. The authorities of the day always assumed it was perpetrated by those who wished to see Princess Celestia dethroned, but it was a mystery that was never solved. It even happened the evening before Panyin was supposed to meet Princess Celestia.”

“Just like the others...”

“What was that, darling?” Fancy Pants asked.

Rarity lifted a hoof and waved it gently. “Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud. Still, thank you for getting these antiques together. Did you manage to get the books as well?”

“But of course, they are stacked on the table there in the corner and they are yours to read at your leisure. You have the guest suite as long as you need it. And I do apologize again that I could not convince my acquaintances to part with these pieces so you could take them back to Ponyville. Some of these old ponies are right possessive of their irreplaceable artifacts.”

“Rightly so, I imagine,” Rarity said as she looked over a few of the books. “I suppose I should start reading.”

“Oh, that’s a shame, I was hoping I could tempt you into joining me and Fleur in the garden for a light lunch and a bit of croquet. I have some photographers coming to document the portraits, and thought it would be best if we gave them all the room they needed.”

“Well... I suppose I wouldn’t want to be in the way,” Rarity said, trying to keep her composure though she felt like bouncing on her hooves. A private croquet luncheon with Fancy Pants, the most important pony in Canterlot. Yes, Twilight wanted her to read a few of the books to find clues to the conspiracy, but could she really be expected to concentrate on an empty stomach? And what of the photographers? All those flashing lights would surely make it difficult to read.

And so, with a smile, Rarity set down the book and trotted with Fancy Pants out of the room. How could she say no?

“Oh, thank you very much. I hope I haven’t been too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Please, call if you need anything else.”

Fluttershy smiled and thanked the librarian once more before watching her walk away. She was sitting in Canterlot’s central library, sequestered in a corner of the newspaper archive room. Twilight had tasked her with a list of zebras from more recent history, going back only about a few hundred years. There were just short of a dozen zebras on the list, and Fluttershy was to try and find any articles relating to them. And she had plenty to go through. Next to her at the viewing station were dozens of archive films of the newspapers in question.

“Guess I should get started.” She fed the first film reel into the viewer. Like an overhead projector in a classroom, the screen in front of Fluttershy lit up with the text from the article which had been preserved on the film. Using little knobs on the viewer, she was able to advance between the pages and adjust the zoom, but, even as she started, Fluttershy began to frown. She didn’t want to disappoint Twilight, but there were a lot of newspapers to go through.

And the librarian had said she would be coming back with even more.

“Now, Fluttershy, if you're practicing your impression of Twilight for some comedy bit, I’d skip the studying part. She’s much more entertaining when that wound up spring in her head finally pops free.”

Fluttershy hadn’t even gotten through the first headline, but still she smiled at the distraction from her task. She turned around and saw Discord floating around her with his usual manic eyes and equally manic grin. “Oh, hello Discord. How are you?”

“Overworked and underpaid,” he answered as he continued to lounge in the air.

“But, you don’t work, and, if you don’t work, you can’t get paid.”

“And that is exactly the problem. I might be a spirit of chaos, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind having a little spending cash. Ponies these days just don’t see the value in a little well turned moment of chaos. That and I just can’t sell my claw clippings like I used to,” he produced a jar of trimmed nails from behind his back, shaking his head as he looked at it. “Draconequus nails were once prized for their use in potions. Now, I can’t get a bit for this whole jar.”

He tossed the jar over his shoulder, causing it to crash to the floor. The nails spilled out, jumped to life, and formed into rank and file regiments. They then began to march, forming a parade through the library much to the librarians’ discontent. “So, what brings you to this boring corner of Canterlot?”

“My friends and I are helping Twilight uncover a conspiracy,” Fluttershy answered, though her words made Discord visibly ill.

“Oh, gag me with a trout. A conspiracy? There are few things in the world I find more distasteful. Ponies try to explain away good, old-fashioned chaos as some evil plan by some big, mysterious organization. It’s insulting and, frankly, upsets my stomach.” Discord swooped around Fluttershy, looking at the newspaper reel the viewer was displaying. “So, what is it this time? Does Twilight think the griffin government is using the fluoride in toothpaste to track the whereabouts of everypony in Equestria?”

“Actually, Twilight thinks there’s an organization of zebras and possibly other species steering Equestria’s government, politics, and public opinion.”

Discord looked at Fluttershy with a deadpanned face. “Really? Zebras? I didn’t think Twilight was such a racist. Hmph, actually makes me feel a little better about how cruelly I was locked away in stone for simply spreading a little chaos.”

“Now, Discord, in all fairness, it wasn’t just a little chaos,” Fluttershy said.

“Okay, true, but really, zebras? Why, I bet there isn’t even a single zebra in that stack of newspaper films that fits what you’re looking for.” Discord snapped his claw, causing the newspaper archives to jump to life. They leapt from the viewer desk Fluttershy was using to a larger table nearby. They stood like children. They shifted, fidgeted, but then all snapped to attention when Discord clapped his claw and paw together.

“Okay, little ones,” he said, his appearance shifting to that of a caring old kindergarten teacher. He held out his claw, and Fluttershy’s list flew to his grasp. “I’m going to read off some names. If any of you know the name I say, I want you to scoot your cute little booty patooties to that side of the table. Okay?”

The archive films nodded, and Discord began to read the names. For the first few names not a single newspaper reel moved. They just kept watching Discord, causing his smile to grow at the thought of proving Twilight’s little conspiracy false. Maybe he’d bake her a cake to celebrate it. Draw a picture of her in a dunce cap in the frosting. Oh, better yet, he’d make a dunce cap out of cake and plop it right on her head. Oh, he was sure she’d love it.

Still, there was more names to read and, after adjusting his teacher glasses, he looked up at the reels on the table. “Okay, how about Green Leaf? Do any of you little film reels know a Green Leaf?”

A few newspaper reels began to move, shifting through the crowd before crossing the table. Discord’s mouth hung open a little bit, and in that moment the joke was over. He returned himself to normal, and with his eagle claw scooped up the reels that had walked away from the others. He fed the first into the viewer, and the headline rose up on the projector screen. It was a copy of the Canterlot Gazette and it was dated 795 AC.

“Everfree Forest Declared Nature Preserve,” Fluttershy read quietly before continuing to the rest of the article. “Just a few months ago Lord Manifest declared his intentions to deforest the entire Everfree Forest. His efforts were bolstered by ponies seeking the promised paychecks and by those who feared the creatures within the ancient forest, which to many stood as an open defiance against the pony way of life. Trees, animals, and the weather all take care of themselves in the Everfree Forest, and Lord Manifest argued it simply wasn’t natural. He said—”

“Fluttershy, dear, while I find your reading voice wonderfully soft and pleasant, I know a much more entertaining way to enjoy this article,” Discord interrupted, a toothy grin spread on his lips.

“Oh, really? What is it?”

Discord’s smile only widened as he extended a paw and set it on Fluttershy’s shoulder. She looked at him curiously. She expected something to happen. For him to snap his fingers and to make something crazy happen, as usual. But no, Discord just smiled and motioned towards the viewer with his head. Fluttershy looked back at the viewer but, as she did, the world around her changed.

Suddenly, she and Discord were in what looked like a small theater. There were soft red seats, and Discord was munching on a box of popcorn. It wasn’t actually filled with popcorn, it instead looked like a bunch of cotton balls. Still, he munched on them all the same as the curtains on the stage began to open.

“Hear me ponies!” A stallion in a black suit and top hat said to a crowd. He was up on a small raised platform on the stage’s left hoof side while the crowd stood in the middle, watching intently. “Progress is the way to the future. We tend the skies. We usher in the seasons. Equestria, the world, is a better place when nature is managed and tended by careful hooves.

“But there is a place where nature is wild. There is a place where the law of the jungle thrives, and any of its monstrous residents pose a threat to the safety of our families. Yes, I’m speaking of the Everfree Forest. That den of evil where trees, animals, and weather defy the natural order that we ponies have spent generations perfecting.

“And I can see the fear in your faces. Some of you may ask what we can do about it. Up to this point, very little. For centuries the Platinum family held the rights to the land the forest stood on, and they refused to do a thing about it. But now, through Celestia’s grace, I have been awarded the land rights to the forest. So now I call to earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns alike. Do you want your work to have meaning? Do you want to earn a wage while making Equestria a safe place? Then sign up with my company, Manifest’s Destiny company, and help us clear every tree, rock, and horrible creature from the Everfree Forest.

“Let’s destroy that forest which has been like a tumor at the very heart of our fair kingdom.”

The crowd of ponies on the stage cheered. Some rushed up, taking clipboards and signing their names to the project. All the while Manifest was smiling and Fluttershy was frowning. “Why would they want to destroy the forest? I mean, sure, some of the creatures in there are a bit nasty, but that’s their home.”

“Well, it’s a bit of a spoiler, but we find out later that Manifest was hoping to mine some of the precious metals that were supposed to be underneath the forest,” Discord whispered. “Now, shhh, your zebra is about to come on stage.”

The scene on stage shifted. Plywood trees were wheeled into place. A crowd of ax wielding ponies came from the left while another group of ponies came from the right. At the head of the group on the right was a long maned zebra with a green bandana and a long, matching dress that was made out of a rough hemp.

“Get out of the way! I am within my rights to cut down this forest!” Manifest shouted from his place at the head of the left hoof crowd.

“Shove off you tree killers!” A pony from the right hoof crowd shouted.

“This forest is a disease! Its creatures and plant life are a threat to any pony that gets close.”

“Don’t speak of these trees as if they are some disease,” the zebra, Green Leaf, shouted as she took a daring step closer. “It deserves life as much as you. It’s a haven of nature, where the world is true. You say ponies must steward the land. Well, now we will truly take a righteous stand. Nature is free! Save Everfree!”

“Nature is free! Save Everfree!” All the other protestors began to chant, starting to walk in a tight circle as they raised their voices. Some of the loggers tried to walk around them, but their picket line expanded and blocked any such attempts. In time, Manifest growled and shouted for his workers to leave, but not until he had sworn that every square inch of the forest would burn as logs in his fireplace.

Discord’s play of the news article’s information continued. Time and again Green Leaf and her protesters clashed with Manifest and his loggers. Each side grew in force, becoming like two small armies on a great field of battle. Manifest brought in great burly stallions to force the protesters away. Green Leaf and the protestors tied themselves to the trees, ensuring that any logger that attempted to work would have to chop through living ponies. Canterlot Guard began doing patrols over the area, if only to ensure no riots broke out and nopony was hurt.

The climax of the play came on the day of that year’s Summer Sun Celebration. Manifest convinced Celestia to hold the yearly celebration on the outskirts of the forest. He intended to get as many ponies on his side as possible and sent some of his wood cutters into the forest to stir up the animals within. He was going to demonize the forest by instigating a wild animal attack on the Summer Sun Celebration.

But Green Leaf caught wind of his plan and put her own in motion. Her protesters constructed a stage of their own that stood opposite the Summer Sun Celebration. They started early, on the night before the festival. Following the tradition of ponies staying up all night to watch the sunrise, Green Leaf’s protesters put on a show.

Music was played, performances were done. The very ponies Manifest hoped to sway in the morning were being turned against him the night before. And when Celestia arrived to raise the sun that morning, the ranks of Green Leaf’s protesters had swelled. They stood, chanting out “Nature is Free, Save Everfree”, even as Princess Celestia took to Manifest’s stage.

“Manifest, just what is the meaning of this?” asked the actress playing Celestia. She was a short, pudgy mare with a big nose and an even bigger beehive mane. It was probably a pony furthest in physique from Celestia’s regal form. The mare actually kind of looked like Rarity’s mom if Fluttershy was to be honest with herself. Still, Discord was chuckling to himself, and so she wrote off the poor casting of the princess as one of the spirit’s playful jokes.

“I... I’m sorry, your highness. These protestors are just delusional. They are trying to save the Everfree Forest.”

“Last we spoke, Manifest, you gave me the impression these protestors were few in number.”

“T-they were, but—”

It was then a few ponies stumbled out of the crowd of actors. Some were the protestors, identifiable by the green bandana’s they wore. Others were some of Manifest's goons, who looked like they were injured.

“What happened?” Manifest demanded.

“They got hurt doing what you asked them to do!” One of the protesters shouted. “You sent them into the forest to stir up the timber wolves so they would attack the festival. But they ran into a pride of manticores instead. They’re lucky to be alive, and we’re lucky they failed. A lot of ponies could have gotten hurt if they had lured the wolves out here.”

“But that’s why the forest needs to be taken down,” Manifest tried to argue. “It’s dangerous!”

“Wouldn’t you be just as dangerous if somepony went into your home and wanted to tear it down?” A protester shouted back. “Leave the forest alone, it will leave us alone! Nature is Free! Save Everfree!”

“Yes, but... but—”

“Manifest,” Celestia scolded, “nothing can condone you putting the lives of other ponies in danger. Consider your rights to this land revoked for the foreseeable future.”

“But it’s Green Leaf’s fault, your highness. She—”

“Green Leaf saved our lives, sir,” one of the lumberjacks said as he held a nasty scratch on one of his forelegs. “She distracted the manticores while we got away.”

“Then it seems Green Leaf is the one I should commend,” Celestia said as Manifest slunk off stage. “Where is she? I wish to speak with her.”

“She... she hasn’t come back out of the forest yet, your highness,” one of the protestors said. The whole cast grew still and silent at this. The lights on the stage dimmed, and the curtains fell. Discord stood from his seat, smiling and popping his back. And with the pop of his spine, he and Fluttershy were swept back to the library. They were once more sitting in front of the newsreel viewer, as if they hadn’t moved an inch.

Discord yawned, continued to stretch, and bent his body in directions that just weren’t natural. “After that, the guards went searching for Green Leaf, but all they found was the tattered remains of her dress and bandana along with some splattered blood. To say the least, she died to the creatures she fought to defend. A cruel irony, I do suppose.”

“Did they ever find a body? Or bones? Or anything?”

“If they did, the article didn’t say, and don’t take what we saw for absolute fact either. It was an interpretation of the paper, and you know how newspapers like to sensationalize the truth.” He said as he popped the reel out of the viewer and turned it over in his claws. “What difference does it make? She died. It’s the end of the story and an end to Twilight’s conspiracy.”

“No, it actually falls in line with Twilight’s theories.” Fluttershy said, looking to the short list of notes Twilight had given her. “They thought Green Leaf died before she could meet Princess Celestia, but manticores don’t hunt like that. They eat their... catches... wherever they manage to make the... catch. They don’t bother trying to take their food anywhere else, and they don’t eat bones. It’s bad on their stomachs.”

“Oh, Fluttershy, please don’t say it.” Discord had come up beside her, putting his claw and paw together to playfully, and semi-seriously, beg her to stop.

“But it’s true. If the manticores had... caught Green Leaf, then the guards would have found her, or... what was left of her, where they found her dress. The fact they didn’t means Green Leaf matches with one of Twilight’s cases, that the young zebra possibly faked her death before she could meet the princesses.”

Discord groaned, held his stomach with his paw and his mouth with his claw. His cheeks puffed for a moment, but then he managed to swallow down whatever had come up his throat. “Sorry, Fluttershy, but I doubt her royal sun butt would like to hear what happened to the central library if I lost my chaotic cookies because of Twilight’s nauseating conspiracy. Call me when you’re done. We’ll chill and hang like snowboarding bats. Otherwise, I’m out.”

Discord disappeared at this, allowing the library to once more become a quiet sanctum of learning. Fluttershy frowned a little, missing the help he was giving her with the research, but, when she looked back at the viewer, she noticed a small stack of newspaper reels sitting beside it along with a note.

She picked up the note, and smiled a little as she read.

Discord
Chaotically,

Twilight owes me 3.141592 favors for helping with her conspiracy. I expect a pie next time I’m in Ponyville.

Fluttershy
Dear,

Rarity was light on her hooves from what had turned into a lovely day. The croquet luncheon had swung into a quick trip into town with Fleur, who had wanted to get Rarity’s opinion on a few things in a few stores. Those few turned into over a dozen, but what an afternoon had it been! Her mind was bubbling with new ideas. She set down a few of her own shopping bags and began to look across the room for something to write with and some paper. She simply had to get this design out of her mind. It would be new, it would be hip, it would be...

Guilty.

Drawing close to the nightstand and lighting the lamp in the guest room Fancy Pants had lent her, Rarity saw a stack of familiar looking books and a note from Fancy Pants. It said the photographs that afternoon had gone swimmingly, and that the photographers would deliver several poster size prints the following morning.

“Oh, Rarity, didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” She scolded herself as she looked across the stack of books. Ideally, she would have wanted to do a few quick sketches before going to bed. She needed her beauty sleep, but her responsibilities, the whole reason she was in Canterlot, tugged at her like Sweetie Belle wanting to play in the mud.

Finally, with a sigh, Rarity quickly slipped into the attached bathroom. In ten minutes she was back out, her face clean of makeup and her body otherwise ready for sleep. But she could not sleep straight away. No, she instead nestled into the covers and picked up the first of the books.

“Let’s see, which one is this?” She mused, using her magic to fetch a list from her bags. She glanced back and forth between the book and list, and then smiled as she found the corresponding entry Twilight had scratched out in her impeccable cursive.

“Ah, yes, the first edition published abstracts from the journal of General Regenold Swiftwing of the Griffin Empire. According to Twilight, there should be a few entries in this edition that were taken out of later versions. Entries dated around 650 AC, when the good general was in Savannah.” Rarity sighed again as she snuggled in and flipped through the pages of the book.

“All right, General Swiftwing, let’s hope you’re worth me ruining my beauty sleep.”

The Journals of High General Regenold Swiftwing
Chapter 8
The Savannah Mare

Regenold Swifting has, at this point, secured his rank of captain after his exemplary display in officer academy. But, as it is said at every graduation of the academy, to stop learning is to give the enemies of the griffin empire the advantage. Regenold took this message to mean he needed to learn from his elders and superior officers.

But some of the dearest lessons that Regenold would ever learn came from beyond the empire’s borders, in the vast kingdom of Savannah.

March 17th - 652

This mission is a bucket of fish heads that’s been left out in the sun.

Griffin soldiers should be in service to the nation. We should be patrolling the streets, catching criminals, and aiding in the search for the rogue dragon plaguing our countryside. Instead, my squad and I are stuck babysitting Charles Crosswind, the royal diplomat and pain in the neck. I don’t know how any griffin could be such a layabout. He is a fat bureaucrat who doesn’t deserve his place at the emperor’s side.

But can I say anything to that matter? No, I have to smile and salute this potbellied peacemaker as we haul him all the way to Savannah. I hate Savannah, and I can’t understand why the emperor wants to renew our peace treaties with them.

I wouldn’t even call Savannah a kingdom. It’s a big field of grass with the occasional grove of trees. There are still nomadic tribes who move across the land, and those villages that stay in place are built of sticks, mud, and grass. They pale in comparison to the fine stone towns of the empire.

Their government is a joke as well, as flimsy as their homes. They have a council. They rule by committee, and there is no single, unquestionable leader. The chancellor, who is called the “head” of the council, only runs the meetings. She doesn’t have any more power than the others. To fight a battle, they must put it to a vote. To do anything, they have to put it to a vote. How can they react quickly to anything when they need so many creatures in the same room at the same time just to do a vote?

And their military is the biggest joke of all. None of the species native to the kingdom have a natural ability to fly and their magic is based purely on powders and potions. Equestria may be a peace-mongering love fest, but at least their military has some claws. Us going to Savannah to renew this peace treaty is like seeing a fully armored soldier walking up to a child with a stick and asking the child to make peace.

It just doesn’t make sense to me.

What’s worse, I’ve been separated from my squad. They are in the barracks, where I should be. But no, Chancellor Rogombe and Ambassador Crosswind insist I take a suite in the council hall. Crosswind says it’s so I’m nearby, so he doesn’t have to send a guard or one of my own soldiers to find me. It’s just another example of his laziness. He can’t even wait for me to get word of his next childish request. He needs me right there, like a nanny to coddle him.

But the final insult is the servant who was assigned to me, a zebra mare. By the emperor’s grace, I don’t need a nanny and I am not eating the pitiful excuse of a meal she left for me either. I’m waiting until the diplomate is asleep, till the servant is asleep, and then I am getting a real meal.

Crosswind may be able to order me to stay in this room, but he hasn’t ordered that I have to eat what they give me.

March 18th - 652

I absolutely hate this backwards country and its backwards populace.

I went out to get my dinner last night. I actually found a place that sold something decent, and was mildly impressed on how it was served. I was beginning to give them the benefit of the doubt. Then came the time to pay, and the owner wouldn’t take my empire thalers. They wanted lira. What in the emperor’s name is a lira? They were even willing to take Equestrian bits. I saw ponies paying with their native gold coins just a few tables over. But no, they wouldn’t take an empire thaler. I told them to just take the thaler, that I was paying them more than the meal was worth.

That’s when the wildebeest cook and his cronies came out. They were going to take me to the local guard. I told them to shove off. And you know what? I was looking forward to the fight. I was going to sock it straight to the Savannah simpletons who thought they could challenge a captain of the emperor’s army.

But then that blasted Tenabe, the zebra mare who was assigned to be my servant, stopped the fight. She came in with her council hall uniform, and then everyone backed off like we were children about to be scolded by mother for roughhousing. I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me, let alone such a scrawny zebra mare. She tried to pay my tab. I grabbed her hoof to stop her. My thalers were good enough for that back alley place.

But then something happened. I don’t know what hit me, but I was out cold. My only guess is that the wildebeest cook blindsided me. They must have taken offense for me trying to stop Tenabe. Whatever did happen, next thing I remember was waking up in the suite with this pounding headache. Even writing has been a challenge. And Tenabe is still hovering around me.

She brought breakfast. I dumped it out the window.

March 19th - 652

I hate this nation and Tenabe with every fiber of my being.

I demanded Tenabe tell me who knocked me out the night before, and she told me it was her. I laughed in her face. I mean, what self-respecting griffin wouldn’t? A griffin child wouldn’t get knocked out cold by Tenabe, let alone me, a captain of the army. I assumed she was protecting someone at the bar and demanded she tell me who it was.

But she kept claiming responsibility.

So I took her out to the the council hall training grounds, with my own soldiers as witnesses along with some of the capitol’s own guard. I wasn’t going to beat the truth out of this mare without someone to say that she had asked for it. I know these countries like Equestria and Savannah. They are all about treating females with respect and kindness. In the griffin empire some of my commanders are girls and they are the scariest griffins I have ever seen. No female in the griffin empire hides behind anything. If they get into a fight, they are probably the one who started it and they probably won it.

So I told Tenabe we were going to fight, because I didn’t believe she had knocked me out. I made her swear that, once I beat her, she would tell me who had knocked me out. I was sure that would scare her into giving up the truth. But no, she agreed to the fight.

So we fought, and... I lost.

I lost, and I don’t know how! She didn’t defend herself. She didn’t block a single one of my blows. She just kept stepping out of the way. I’d throw a punch, she took a step. I slashed with my claws, she took a step. I couldn’t even get close to her. My own soldiers were laughing at me! I made them pay for it by making them fly patrols, but they still laughed. She still undermined my authority without even hitting me once.

It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible, and it won’t be possible ever again.

The peace talks are due to last a month, and I will beat Tenabe in combat by the time it’s time for us to leave.

March 26th - 652

One week. One feather-flipping week and I still haven’t gotten close scratching Tenabe. Every morning I challenge her, and every morning we go out to the training grounds. I’ve sent my soldiers at her first. I’ve promised that if any of them can beat her before I do, that I’ll give them my commission as captain for a month. It’s incentive enough to get them to try, and as they try I watch. I watch to try and figure out this mare out. So far, I’ve had no luck, but I’m learning to predict her moves.

And I’m getting closer, I can feel it. I’m training my speed and reflexes everyday. And for once, Crosswinds isn’t being a royal pain in my butt. I think the council hall staff are attending to all his needs, but I’m not going to question it.

She’s fast, but I can be faster. I’m part lion, for the emperor’s sake! Lions hunt zebras, and I’m not about to let this prey animal beat me, the predator. I’ve got the claws. I’ve got the killer instincts. I’m the warrior. She’s just a servant.

I’m going to beat her.

March 27th - 652

I landed a hit today. Tenabe blocked it. She then threw me to the ground like it was nothing, like I was nothing.

The fight started out like the others. I attacked, she stepped out of the way, but I was able to predict some of her dodges. I was finally going to catch her. I had a punch lined up square with her jaw and she wasn’t going to be able to step out of the way. It never occurred to me she would actually block it. And then, the next thing I knew, I was on my back, on the ground. I was gasping for breath. My ears were ringing. I might have thought I was struck by lightning in a storm if the sky wasn’t cloudless.

I’ve never been hit so hard before. Part of basic training is claw-to-claw combat. I’ve wrestled griffins twice my size and managed to beat them. That’s how I got accepted as an officer-in-training. I’ve had my beak fractured. I’ve cracked ribs. I’ve busted a wing.

But I’ve never had the wind knocked out of me like that. This mare is not normal. She’s gotten special training. She’s been trained beyond her duties as a servant of the castle. None of the other servants can fight. I know; I’ve tried to challenge some and they’ve been terrified of the prospect. Only Tenabe shows no fear. She’s smarter than the rest. She’s faster than the rest. She’s simply better than the rest.

She is better than me and every other griffin I’ve ever fought.

Has the world gone mad?

March 28th - 652

I did not challenge Tenabe to a fight this morning. Instead, she spoke to me after delivering breakfast. She started by asking about griffin empire armaments. She asked about our armor, our swords, our steel. My first instinct was that, for some reason, the Chancellor had asked her to do this. To be a spy and to try and pry national secrets out of me. The thing is, our metallurgy isn’t a national secret. We wear it as a badge of pride. We can craft metal better than anyone in Equestria or Savannah.

I answered what she asked, and then she asked me specifically what I felt made a good sword. I mean, I don’t know how to craft a sword to save my life, but I know what I like. I like it balanced, with a clean, sharp edge and a thin profile. She asked me if I like my swords so strong, so stiff, and so unyielding that they were brittle. I told her that I didn’t. What self respecting griffin would want a sword so brittle that it would shatter the first time you cross swords in battle?

And Tenabe gave me an answer as she departed, leaving both it and my breakfast behind for me to ponder. I don’t remember the exact wording, but I think it was “A griffin who goes into battle with only a brittle blade, who never changes her weapon, will soon beneath a stone be lain.”

A sense of this is taught to officers. If Equestria was to attack the empire, the instructors told us how to counter units and formations. Unicorns needed to be forced into close combat, where their spells would be more difficult. When facing earth ponies, seize the high ground in the sky. When facing pegasi, disperse their clouds and bully them with superior size and stability.

But even those tactics are stringent. Captains, lieutenants, we are all taught to do the same thing against the same opponents. It’s all stiff. It’s all brittle. If even a handful of zebra in this nation’s military think like Tenabe, then they could invade and beat us.

Right now, it feels like the kid with a stick could beat the heavily armored soldier.

Savannah could beat The Griffin Empire.

March 29th - 652

Tenabe delivered breakfast again, and with it left a note. She’s offering to teach me, to help me unlearn the brittleness pounded into me by instructors. It must be done at night. She wants me to meet her atop of the cliffs that flank the sides of the capital city of Cliff Wound. There are old stone structures up there. She says they will be part of my lesson, if I am willing to learn.

The sun is setting. I’ve finally decided. I’m going to learn, if only so I can beat her.

March 30th - 652

The lesson last night was painful. I got thrown to the ground dozens of times. Tenabe’s lessons are harsh, but in a different way from the empire’s instructors. They were harsh by shouting in your face and making you do push ups for looking at them wrong. Tenabe doesn’t waste time with that. She asked me to fight her, and each time I failed she taught me a lesson.

We only took a break once, to rest and drink water. And as we rested, she told me of the great stone structures that lined the edges of the cliff. She spoke of the legends surrounding the era of Discord, the chaotic spirit who appeared in Equestria and then spread disharmony across the world. Many tried to fight him. From the empire’s own histories, I know the single largest army ever seen by the nation was assembled by the emperor of that era. They stood to face Discord, and that day was also the day the Griffin Empire suffered its swiftest defeat.

Tenabe then went on to tell me the legends surrounding the capitol. There was no way for them to fight Discord at first, so those of Savannah found another way. They bent with Discord’s chaos. The capital of Cliff Wound, only a village back then, hid by covering the whole valley with a series of fabric tarps. The tarps were supported by the stone structures we were training beside and were enchanted to mimic the chaotic landscape that surrounded the valley. If the ground became a checkerboard, the tarps magically changed to match. If the ground became polkadots, the tarps changed to be polka dots.

There was more magic to it, Tenabe assured me, but that the basic tactic was the same. That they kept bending and dodging Discord’s gaze until, finally, someone was able to strike a single, decisive blow against him.

And I can’t help but think that Tenabe told me this story for a purpose. Her tactics when we fought were the same. She bent, dodged, and stepped out of the way of my attacks, changing and following my body movements until she saw her perfect opportunity. And then, when she struck, she did it so quickly and with such little mercy that I was left reeling. I was so utterly defeated that I was at her mercy.

She does not mean to insult the tactics of the empire. There are times when how we think and fight are ideal. She is not asking me to throw away my sword. She is not teaching me to fight with other weapons. She is teaching me only to see that, sometimes, you must change how you fight if you want to have any hope of winning.

April 15th - 652

The peace talks are over. It is time to return to the empire. I still can’t beat Tenabe, but she wasn’t trying to teach me how to fight. She was just trying to teach me how to think. To see the world not just through the gaze of the empire. To be willing to break away from the traditional strategies when they aren’t working. She taught me to pick up a shield, a mace, a bow, or whatever weapon when the stiff, sword-like tactics of the empire are insufficient.

I expected to wish her goodbye this morning, to even thank her for pounding the stupid out of my head. She, however, did not deliver my breakfast this morning. I looked, but could not find her before it was time to depart. And Crosswind was in no mood to wait. He whined about getting back to the cool mountains of the empire, but I’ve grown fond of Savannah. I see its merit and its flaws, just as I now see the merit and flaws of my own home. Nomadic tribes and homes of mud and sticks. The whole nation is about being flexible, about being willing to adapt and move to better fit the situation. This makes the stone homes of the empire seem almost impractical.

When I get back, I’m going to drill what Tenabe has taught me into my soldiers.

It’s time for the Griffin Empire to follow the example of Savannah.

Regenold Swiftwing did not return to Savannah for the rest of his military career. Still, the lessons he learned from Tenabe became a foundation for his military career. His ability and willingness to try new tactics was taught to his troops, and soon his forces were doing things other officers thought impossible. Still, after retirement, Regenold left the empire on one final mission.

February 16th - 695

I can’t believe it’s been so long since I was here, practically a lifetime. The capital of Cliff Wound hasn’t changed. The bar where I first got knocked out by Tenabe is still there and they still won’t take thalers. But that’s okay. This time I paid in liras, which I know all too well is the currency of the nation. The council hall is still the same. To step into one of its suites feels like stepping back in time. The faces are different, of course. The council has all new leaders as do all the servants.

Still, I came to speak with the Chancellor, and asked if she could direct me to Tenabe. I wished to thank her one more time, and maybe even fight her again. I’m still not sure I could beat her, but a griffin, if nothing else, is stubborn. And the Chancellor was glad to help. She had the head servant speak with her predecessor, the one who would have been in charge when I was last at the council hall.

The previous head remembered me and the visit of Crosswind. It was one of the most important days during her career to ensure the peace talks went over well. I asked her if she knew what happened to the servant that had been assigned to attend to me.

It was then the old head servant gave me a blank stare and said no servant had ever been assigned to me.

I laughed and joked. Of course one had been assigned. I gave her the name, Tenabe, but her blank stare only continued. She had never known a zebra named Tenabe. I began to get angry. It was time for the joke to end, but her answer remained the same. She knew no Tenabe and no servant had been assigned to my suite. Crosswind had even requested that I just be left alone, attesting that I would take offense if a servant was assigned.

I never realized the ambassador knew me that well.

I looked back in one of my old journals from those years, just to assure myself it wasn’t all some dream. I found my notes. I saw how brash I was. Looking back, I was like a painter looking at his first drawings. It’s hard to believe I was ever that naive. I was once that bad, that brittle, but she was the one that gave me the tools to reforge myself. To make myself flexible enough as a commander and general to fight for my empire during the civil war, the first time griffins ever had to truly fight against one another.

The sun is setting, and, as I write, I feel the urge to go to the cliffs. I wish to go to the ruins where my lessons were learned. Perhaps there is where I will find Tenabe. Or, perhaps I am only an old griffin getting hopeful in his old age.

I don’t know where she went, but I know she existed. And the empire would not be the same if she had never crossed my path.

Rarity looked up from the journal, letting it fall against her chest as she stared at the ceiling above her. “I see why this was excluded from later editions,” she mused to herself. “Some griffins probably got their feathers ruffled over a book saying the empire wouldn’t have survived without a zebra.

“Still...” Rarity withdrew a few scraps of paper from her bag and a pencil. She would normally use these supplies to jot down design ideas, but, for this evening, she took notes. Tenabe had influenced the world, like other zebras Twilight suspected, and had vanished suddenly afterward, leaving no trace behind. She fit into the puzzle.

“It’s a shame really that it turned out the way it did.” Rarity set the book down, doused the lights, and snuggled into the bed. “Regenold, the tough military soul, having his ways changed by the exotic beauty that was Tenabe. How they tussled and fought beneath the moonlight, with the lights of the city watching them silently from the valley below. One learning, the other teaching...” Rarity stifled a yawn. “And I bet the general was quite the dashing griffin when he was young.”

Rarity continued to murmur to herself, as if speaking about the book like it was a piece of fiction at a book club. And the thoughts bled into dreams. She stood on top of the cliff face, the capital of Cliff Wound glinting below as the moon shown above. She was a zebra, in fashionable purple stripes of course, and she was teaching a captain something. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed to involve ribbon and fabric. The captain was a griffin though, a purple and green one, but her mind didn’t seem to take any notice of the oddity as her dream played out how she felt Renegold and Tenabe’s time together should have gone.