The one carrying you, you recognize instantly. The voice, that had been the clue. Even with just one meeting, the dude had seemed slimy, like every bad politician rolled into one. The guy had offered you a place in his nation, and you'd promptly turned him down, whereupon he'd blatantly threatened you. Later, another one had come from the same kingdom, apologized for him, and then proceeded to make the exact same offer. That had been months ago now, but both griffons had left an impression on you.
“Stop squirming!” ordered the Ambassador. His name was...you can't remember, even if you did know it at some point. But he represented the Griffon Kingdoms of the West. He was supposed to be some big shot military bird, but you'd only heard most of that information second hand. One meeting was all it had taken to turn you off from him forever, and his order made you redouble your efforts, even as his wings carried you higher and higher with each flap.
“Fancy Pants! Rainbow! Spitfire! Anypony!” you shouted, your eyes looking down where you and Fancy had been standing. You could just barely make out Fancy Pants himself, his body twisted in an odd way, laying on the ground beneath the balcony. Luckily, there were several bushes just below the overhang. Unluckily, he didn't seem to be moving. You were sure he was alive, ponies were hard to injure, but he was probably out cold.
“Save your breath, human. I wear the Cone of Silence, and with it, nothing you say can be heard by anyone. I would therefore suggest that you stay still, lest my grip falter,” he advised, his talons, gripping you just under your shoulders, loosening a bit, threatening you drop you. He of course, expected that to shut you up, but rather than stopping, you fought harder than ever as his grip let you go, pulling one arm free and your hand going right for your sword hilt.
“Idiot!” he cried, and suddenly everything in your vision swam, as the side of your head felt like it had been slammed into a brick wall. The ambassador, now convinced that you wouldn't be further trouble, as you hung limply from his talons, began to wheel towards the horizon, confident that he could get away without any one below seeing him.
You, for the most part, were completely out of your head for minutes, the cool breeze helping to dull your senses. You tried to fight, tried to collect your wits, but every train of thought seemed to derail the instant it started to pickup steam. You were only halfway awake when something split the night air, your eyes lazily coming around to find another shape coming towards you, a shrill caw issuing froth from its beak.
“Commander Gilda! What is the meaning of this?!” demanded the ambassador as the shape resolved into the griffon you'd shared a meal with just the other day. Her armor gleamed wickedly in the moonlight, and at her hip she wore a mace with a head bigger than your own, all of it sparkling silver.
“That's what I'd like to know, Ambassador Asshat. I got your orders from my lieutenant that we were supposed to help patrol the Castle's airspace tonight, as a show of faith, but then I go and find that not only weren't you going to be in said palace, but you checked out a weapon from my quarter master, and made plans for an extended leave,” says the griffon as she comes along side.
“That is not the tone to take with me, no matter who you're friends with,” declares Asshat as he stares at her, his claw suddenly coming up to cover your mouth, which you only barely register as your brain finally finishes rebooting.
“Wrong answer. That's precisely the tone I take when some idiot decides that kidnapping is the way to make a point. Now land, or we find out if your head is as empty as it seems,” she told him, her claw going down to her mace's handle. The ambassador, for a moment, just stared at her, but after that moment had passed, he descended down into Canterlot again, landing heavily on a roof, with a loud thud to mark his landing. He released you just before impact, letting your limp body crumple into a heap, as Gilda landed beside you.
“You okay?” she asked, her foreclaws coming down and picking you up, helping you to keep your balance.
“I'm, I'm not sure. I think I might have a concussion,” you admit, your vision still refusing to focus, but as you stare at the ambassador, you draw your blade anyway.
“Now then, Asshat, how's about you explain yourself?” asked Gilda, turning to face him. The griffon, trying to look like he didn't care, just stood there, idly tapping his armored claw on the roof beneath you.
“I don't have to explain myself, Commander. You are to follow all my orders, and right now, I order you to fly away and keep the ponies busy, while my guest and I depart this foul nation for the safety of our Kingdom,” he commands, and Gilda, a smirk on her face, just pulls out her mace, twisting the middle of it so the thing became a long pole in her grip.
“Wrong answer number two, so I guess I'll have to guess. You got the ponies all riled up, sending veiled threats against the palace so every bit of airforce they had would be there tonight, while the city was patrolled by more magical fare. With that done, you were gonna swoop in, grab the human, and then drag him back home as some kinda hostage, before any pegasi could be scrambled to stop you,” she responded, tapping her mace's pole end on the roof gently as she spoke.
“Indeed! Only by doing that could I protect our guest from being recaptured by our enemies, and imprisoned for the rest of his days here in their glittering little toybox,” he proclaimed, and you get from his tone that he actually believed what he was saying.
“Listen, Asshat. I'm no prisoner here, I choose to stay, if this was all some rescue attempt, then you can forget it, fly off, and we never have to tell anypony about this,” you tell him, holding your sword, rather shakily, in a guard position in front of you.
“Hmph, well, human's got a soft spot. What about that?” says Gilda, before turning back towards the Ambassador again.
“Kid's giving you a way out that means you walk away, and no one gets hurt. You gonna take it?” asked Gilda, and the male griffon seemed to be considering it, his eyes darting between the two of you, while he idly continued tapping his claw against the roof. Suddenly he shot up into the air, and you felt a breeze that grew into a strong gust of wind.
“Cone of Silence!” he shouted, and once again, a dark mist seemed to come from everywhere at once, forming a dome around you, as well as the roof and the two griffons, sealing the three of you in darkness.
“And that's number three!” Gilda returned, crying out like an eagle as she took flight, her mace swinging faster than your eyes could follow. Asshat seemed to be quicker on the draw than you would have expected, as he wove around her swing, flapping his wings hard to climb into the sky, and then aiming his armored claw at her.
“Thunder Claw!” he cried out, and his armored claw began to crackle with lightning arms playing over its surface. Then it shot out, and Gilda was dead center in it's sights. She was even faster than he was though, and her left wing flapped hard, while her right was flush against her side, letting her sort of roll out of the way. The bolt shot past her, arcing down as it flew, and striking the roof beside you with a powerful concussive blast. The hot, ozone scented air slammed into you and sent you rolling a bit, before you were able to pick yourself up again, and stare at the two shapes above.
They danced around each other, Gilda trying to whack the Ambassador like he was a fly, her mace swinging heavily, but quickly, at him, but every time she missed, as he dodged, rolled, or even grabbed the mace head, pushing it away from him. His counterattacks were likewise useless. Bolts of lightning flew out at her, his claw beginning to glow like a small star as more and more arcs of electricity danced over its surface.
The bolts from his weapon played along the sides of the darkness encasing the three of you. Idly, you try to run for the edge, figuring you can at least escape while he's distracted. Of course, he's not too distracted to notice your attempt, and send a bolt of lightning your way. The blast of electricity hits you in the back, sending you flying, right into the barrier, which feels soft, fluffy, and gentle, but then bounces you back.
“Escape from the-HAYAH!-Cone of Silence is impossible!” shouts Gilda, as she tries to use the Ambassador's split attention to hit him hard. He seems to be caught flat pawed, and nearly gets his head whacked off, but sadly, he turns into the blow, which was done with the pole end of the mace rather than the head. His ears are probably ringing, but he fights on, sending another set of bolts at Gilda, and then one down at you, which you try to intercept with your blade.
The crackling electricity slams into your block, and without the strength from the bands, your grip is no match for it, the weapon flying out of your hands, sliding across the roof. It came to a stop a few feet away, but the instant you go for it, another bolt comes down, nearly taking your hand off, and making you hop backwards, rolling away from it. When you at last recover, you look upward to find the Ambassador and Gilda still dancing in the air.
“Okay, I'll just sit this one out then,” you say, your hand going towards you belt as you speak, watching the pair gracefully dive, dip, and roll around. Gilda jinks to the side to avoid a blast, bringing the mace's head around to slam into the Ambassador, who seems to push against the weapon despite its momentum, using it as a spring board to go even higher, sending another bolt down at her.
That gave you an opening though, he was far away from her, and right now, he was up against the Cone of Silence's roof. Whipping out your sheath, you bring the closed end to your lips, and blow hard, a gout of flames leaping out of the end, and flying upward. The two griffons turn just in time to see it, the female diving low to avoid it, while the male just stares for a moment, before letting loose with his weapon, the lightning colliding with the fire and creating a rather spectacular explosion.
When the dust finally starts to settle, your vision clearing, you see first off that the dome of darkness was gone, and the fresh night air was blowing gently over your face. The second thing you see is far worse though, as the Ambassador somehow recovered faster than you, not surprising, and also faster than Gilda. He was in the process of holding her up by the scruff of her neck, his armored claw sending arcs of electricity playing over her body as smoke pours out of every opening in the plates.
“Let go of her!” you shout, not sure what you're doing, just knowing that you have to help her, and make as much noise as you can while doing it. You don't bother with the sheath's fire blast, figuring it would hurt her too, and instead dive towards him, whacking him in the face with the supple leather of the sword's carrier. It feels satisfyingly powerful when it connects with his beak, but sadly, you're just not strong enough to do much damage, and so he just lets the blow come, and then bats at you with a wing.
“Foolishness,” he says with contempt, as he lets Gilda drop to the roof. Her body is still smoking, but you can see her take labored breaths. She's alive, for now. You don't have too long to contemplate that, however, as the Ambassador grabs, his claws curling around your body, and holding your arms tightly against your side as he flaps his wings, taking you into the sky in a few short bursts, circling upward into the heavens.
“Too much time has been wasted on this, and it is far too much to hope that no one heard our scuffle. I may need to use you as a bargaining chip. That makes you less valuable in the long term, so I would stay still if I were you, lest my already thin patience tear,” he informed you coldly, and you can't even muster up the strength to fight him, hanging limply in his claws, while below the roofs of Canterlot begin to vanish into the night.
Your head lolls to the side, and with a twist, your gaze is torn back around. That was when you notice something. His necklace thing, the Cone of Silence, it was broken. There were cracks all through it, and an entire side was just gone. You may have been no expert in them, but you were certain there was no way it was going to keep you from shouting for help now.
The problem was, when you turned back, you were far too high to be heard. You did possess one advantage though. Your sheath. It was still gripped tightly in your hand, and all you had to do was move it ever so slightly, pushing the open end against his belly.
“Let me go, now, or I'll kill you,” you tell him, as coldly as you can. The griffon feels that motion of course, and looks down to find what you've done, but he grins in that very hawkish way of griffon's, and just scoffs at you.
“You're an idiot, human. That fire trick only works when you blow into the other end. It needs breath from a living being to work, or hadn't you noticed. Now stay still and quite, while I-,” he responds, and you push the sheath into him to get him to shut up.
“Let me go, return me to the ground, or die, no other warnings,” you tell him, and his gaze meets yours. You stare into those eyes. They were the eyes of a predator, one who had already caught his prey, and would not be letting go any time soon.
“SPECTRUM FLASH!!!” you shout as loud as you can, getting the griffon's grip to loosen in surprise. He doesn't drop you however, and quickly reasserts himself, holding you closer to him.
“I told you, you have to....whats that noise?” he asks, and your ears catch the faint whistle in the wind. The ambassador's looking around, but he's looking at the wrong angles. You can see it though, as the sword, spinning in the air, rises above the pair of you, and then, just as it soars right overhead, it comes down like a shooting star, aiming right for the open end of the sheath.
The sound it makes as it hits home is sickening, and yet satisfying, to hear. The squelch as it cuts through not just organs and flesh, but bone and sinew as well. The flapping wings were right over it too, the right one getting a bit tussled, but the left one was turn apart, hanging in tattered pieces as the griffon, his body seizing up, just stared back at it, unable to comprehend what had just occurred, while beneath him, the blade returned to its sheath.
The griffon's movements are jerky, his body trying desperately to stay in the air with a single functioning wing, and probably the same number of lungs, considering the small driblets of blood coming from out of his beak. His head, very shakily, turns back towards you, and you stare into his eyes, that predator's gaze gone now. He looks afraid, very afraid, and you return only a cold stare at him, before his body finally goes rigid, and his claws open up around your arms.
The next second is your own moment of horror, as the sky provides you with no support, instead you drop, quick and hard, towards the streets below. The griffon beside you is still breathing, but his course is just a few degrees off, so you lose sight of him quickly, meaning the only thing to look at is the on rushing ground, which seems to be moving towards you at a pace.
Your mind reels at the thought, and you try to scream, but the air is rushing past you too fast to do more than let out a hoarse cry. You still try to save yourself, throwing your sword down to lessen your momentum, but severing only to start yourself spinning in the air, before your outstretched arms can bring you back into balance, staring down at the ground below, a roof not unlike the one you'd been fighting on. A heartbeat away, no more.
You slam your body downward, your shoulder out so that it takes the brunt of the hit. In that instant though you remember something, and punch your fist into the heard ceramic as well. The force of the blow is enough to create a crater, caving in part of the building you'd impacted, but your hand...you can feel the bones turning into splinters. Worse, you'd barely gotten any of the force out, your chest taking the rest, hard, as ribs shatter, shards of bone ripping through your insides.
Worse, the concussive force of the impact bounces you away. Your body, battered and broken already is tossed away, off the roof, and into the wall of the neighboring building, further destroying your insides. Another bounce off a wall, then another, and finally you strike solid ground again, your heart feeling like it was tearing apart with every fragmented beat, as warmth starts to spread all over your body. Beneath you, you can feel a small pool of liquid begin to form. You were dying.