The Battle for the Crystal Empire
A round score of pegasi hurtled through the cloud-covered skies of Northern Equestria. The air was filled with the chill of an oncoming blizzard, though the snow had yet to begin falling. However, these ponies moved on, undaunted, through the elements, not flagging in their pace as they made their way further north and into the increasing harshness of the building storm, their blue and gold flight suits appearing to offer little protection against the elements.
They flew in a wide, V-shaped formation, spread out across the sky. Every so often, the pony leading the formation dropped away and trailed towards the back of one of the lines forming the V, while the pony just behind them in the opposite line assumed the lead position. Because of this formation, based off the same one used by waterfowl migrating north and south for the seasons, the Wonderbolts were able to travel swiftly across great distances while not needing to stop for rest. Their peerless teamwork and coordination carried them farther and faster than any of them would have managed on their own. And it was good that it did, for they had a ways yet to go before they reached their destination. And the urgency of the situation demanded that they reach it without delay, lest war fall upon the newly liberated Crystal Empire and the thousands of crystal ponies that populated it.
Having now dropped to the back of her line, Spitfire was able to lose herself in thought, now that she was no longer shouldering the task of breaking up the air ahead of her team so that the ponies behind her could fly more easily. With each successive rank, the wind resistance was further broken up, until it reached the back, where it was practically nonexistent and the ponies bringing up the rear, resting from their stint in the front, could drift along with almost no effort in the collective slipstream of their comrades. No longer distracted by the effort of flying, Spitfire's mind was free to turn to the assignment she had received mere hours ago, one that had come from Princess Celestia herself.
"The Crystal Empire?" Spitfire was rarely caught off-guard. She knew that there were probably countless secrets hidden away in Equestria, many of them sealed by the Princesses to protect their ponies from stumbling across them. However, the notion that an entire kingdom of ponies had been exorcised from the map for untold centuries was a secret that she had never thought she would learn.
"Yes," replied Princess Celestia cooly, "It will be public knowledge in the next day or so, I expect. Fortunately, Twilight Sparkle and her friends have successfully liberated the Empire from its previous ruler. Right now, Cadance sits on the throne and is in the process of getting her new subjects acclimated to the modern age."
"That's good to hear," said Spitfire. She remembered hearing that helping Princess Luna adapt to the millennia of change that had occurred in her absence had been a surprisingly difficult task. She couldn't imagine the kind of nightmare it would be to try and do the same for an entire Empire's worth of displaced ponies. "So then, what do you need from me?"
"Unfortunately, we aren't the only ones to who have noticed the Empire's reemergence," said Celestia, "I just received a messenger from White Mountain."
"That's one of the griffon aeries that borders that region right?" asked Spitifre.
Celestia nodded. "In fact, their border lies right next to the area where the Crystal Empire reappeared. They had a front row seat. The problem lies in the message that they sent.
"Lord Windclaw of the White Mountain Aerie claims that the Crystal Empire and the land it lies upon is the ancestral home of his clan and therefore is his by right. His message demanded that I turn over the Crystal Empire and all of its inhabitants to his control."
"That's ridiculous!" exclaimed Spitfire, her agitation causing her feathers to ignite the air around her wings with angry sparks.
Celestia nodded gravely. "I couldn't agree more. Even considering the fact that his claim is an outright fabrication and that that land never belonged to any griffon clan, it's unthinkable to even consider turning over the Crystal Empire and its ponies to any griffon clan, especially not Whiteclaw's."
"He's one of the radicals, I presume."
Again, Celestia nodded. "The rulers of the White Mountain Aerie have always hated ponies, to the point that their fledgelings are practically indoctrinated from birth to consider us inferior. They are descendants of King Ironclaw's closest vassals, so they lost a great deal when the Griffon Empire collapsed after the war."
"How big a threat are we talking?" asked Spitfire.
"Substantial," said Celestia, "Arcana's latest intelligence suggests that Whiteclaw has the allegiance of at least five other aeries who would be willing to commit soldiers to their cause. If he musters all available resources, we could be seeing a force of at least a thousand."
Spitfire shuddered at the thought. It would be one of the biggest threats she'd have dealt with in her tenure as a Knight. Still, she thought it was within the capabilities of her Wonderbolts and herself. "So you want us there in case Whiteclaw invades."
"Whiteclaw himself is coming to Canterlot to 'negotiate.' I want you in position in the Crystal Empire in case negotiations go south or if Whiteclaw doesn't think he needs to negotiate anymore."
"What about Arcana? Isn't he already up there?"
"I am having Arcana prioritize a different assignment at the moment," replied Celestia, "While it may not seem as urgent, it is a matter that I would like dealt with as soon as possible to ensure the safety of all of Equestria."
"I see." Spitfire bowed. "Then I will take my ponies and see that it is done."
"Hey Captain!" Soarin's voice snapped Spitfire from her reverie. Snapping out of her daze, she looked at her second-in-command, who was currently on the other end of the V. "I think we're almost there. The weather's letting up."
Spitfire blinked. A little bit ago, the air had been chilled with the cold of an oncoming blizzard, even with the first flakes of snow beginning to fall. However, the clouds were now lightening up, the snow was nowhere to be seen. Up ahead, the clouds peeled back to reveal a boundless blue sky where the afternoon sun was shining through. The air was getting warmer as well. As she narrowed her eyes to get a better look, she caught sight of light reflecting off of a polished surface. The flare blinded her for only a second and, when her vision cleared, she could see it plainly.
The Crystal Empire lived up to its name, with buildings seemingly carved, or perhaps grown, from massive crystals that jutted up out of the ground. However, all the houses and buildings paled in comparison to the Crystal Palace, which jutted upwards in a collection of towers, with a single adamant spire that dominated the Empire's skyline. As Spitfire directed her eyes up towards the Spire's peak, she could see a glowing, flickering aurora faintly spreading in the sky around it.
"Whoa!" Soarin's exclamation beat her to the punch and Spitfire smiled and stifled a giggle.
"Alright everypony!" she snapped, jumping straight to the front of the formation, "Let's land in good order. Once we finish meeting with Princess Cadenza, I want everypony to be in position within the hour."
Soarin' also climbed to the front of the formation and settled into his customary place, just behind her. "Showtime!" His words drew chuckles and giggles from Rapidfire and Misty, who followed just behind him, while Fleetfoot scoffed irritably.
As one, the entire formation dipped down towards the tower's base, where the crystal that the palace was grown from split into flowing pillars that spread out, leaving space for a broad plaza nestled just beneath the palace itself. There, in the center, suspended above a low pedestal, was a slowly rotating piece of crystal that looked to be carved in the shape of a heart. Spitfire could see glittering motes of light streaming out of the heart-shaped crystal and up into the palace.
That must be the Crystal Heart then, she thought, remembering the brief primer about the Crystal Empire that Celestia had given her. She wondered if it was a good idea to be keeping such a powerful object out in the open, where anypony (or anygriffon rather) could presumably lay their claws on it. Spitfire noticed that she didn't even see any guards around it, though the Crystal Empire probably did not have their own Guard up and running just yet.
While they continued to descend, Spitfire's keen eyes picked up signs of motion from a balcony just above the plaza. Focusing on it, she smiled when she saw a familiar stallion waving at them. Turning back to her team, she changed her instructions.
"Soarin' with me. The rest of you, to the plaza. Take it easy, but keep close and don't wander off."
"No scaring the locals," added Soarin' cheerfully as he flashed a grin at Fleetfoot. Their most prickly member scowled back.
"Also, no touching the Crystal Heart," said Spitfire, "It's really important to the ponies here, so keep your hooves off."
Spitfire and Soarin' broke away and swooped towards the balcony as Shining Armor stepped back to give them room to land. Touching down, Spitfire bowed politely to the stallion she now supposed was Prince of the Crystal Empire while Soarin' saluted smartly.
"Welcome Dame Spitfire, Vice-Captain Soarin'," said Shining, returning Soarin's salute after nodding to Spitfire. Technically, since the Wonderbolts themselves were not affiliated with the Guard, they had no actual ranks within the team, their hierarchy mostly determined by merit and seniority. Other than being called second-in-command, Soarin' didn't really have any official rank. That said, Vice-Captain was about as apt an descriptor as any, so neither of them felt all that compelled to correct Shining Armor.
"I take it you're already aware of the situation then," said Spitfire, falling in step with Shining Armor as they made their way in through the balcony.
Shining nodded, his expression becoming grave. "Of course, they came to us first. We're lucky, all things considered. Given how much Whiteclaw despises ponies, I wouldn't have put it past him to just show up at our borders, unannounced and with his army in tow."
"Given that he's most likely trying muster the forces of his allied aeries, he's probably playing for time," said Spitfire.
"But why announce his intentions at all then?" asked Soarin'. It was a valid question. After all, if Whiteclaw had simply bided his time and then attacked when his forces had been mustered, there would have been no warning.
"It's politics." The three of them looked up to the source of the new voice to see a familiar pink alicorn reclining on the throne.
"Princess Cadenza." Spitfire bowed again, this time, Soarin' joined her, rather than saluting like he had with Shining Armor.
"Please rise," said the Crystal Princess, smiling at Spitfire, "Forgive me for not getting up. I'm afraid that I'm still recovering from my exertions over the past few days."
Spitfire nodded. She'd heard about what Cadance had done, blanketing the Crystal Empire in a barrier of her love magic to keep King Sombra at bay while Twilight Sparkle and the other Element Bearers rushed to find the means to defeat him once and for all. Not being a unicorn, Spitfire couldn't even begin to imagine the strain required to keep such a spell active for an extended length of time. She was surprised to see that Cadance was even out of bed.
Still..."You look surprisingly well, all things considered," said Spitfire.
"Thank you for saying so," replied Cadance cheerfully, "And please...Cadance is fine. I wouldn't even bother with the "Princess" part."
"Only if you just call me Spitfire," replied the other mare cheekily.
"So what's this about politics?" asked Soarin', trying to get their conversation back on track.
Cadance coughed. "Right...Essentially, while Whiteclaw wants to claim the Crystal Empire and its resources (and its ponies), what he's ultimately striving for is to build his political clout amongst the griffon aeries. Basically, he wants to show that he can waltz right into Equestria and take whatever he pleases with barely the flimsiest pretense to show how strong he is."
"So basically, the messenger he sent to Princess Celestia and his own trip to Canterlot have less to do with negotiations and more to do with him flaunting his superiority in the heart of Equestria's power," said Spitfire, "Then he'll take the Crystal Empire and show how much better he is than all those weak ponies that the other aeries have been so cautious about for the past few-hundred years..."
"...and all the other griffon aeries will start flocking to his banner and the Griffon Empire will be reborn," finished Soarin', "That's kind of a grandiose train of logic."
Nearly a thousand years ago, shortly after the banishment of Nightmare Moon, the Griffon Empire, lead by King Ironclaw, mounted an invasion of Equestria. Their massive fighting force, twenty-thousand strong, had barely reached the border when their advance was shattered by a mere three ponies, who wielded the martial arts that represented the pinnacle of development for each pony tribe's magic. It had been a brief, bloody, terrifyingly one-sided battle that sent the griffon army rushing back to their homeland in utter defeat. The incident itself was what inspired Celestia to found her order of Knights in the first place.
However, the One Day War (the griffons utterly refusing to acknowledge it as the War of Three Ponies) had even wider repercussions beyond putting an end to Ironclaw's expansionist ambitions. The devastating defeat he'd suffered completely undermined his regime and he quickly found himself deposed. However, his erstwhile successor made little progress before she was deposed in turn. Within the course of a few decades, the once mighty Griffon Empire had dissolved into over a dozen competing principalities before fragmenting even further as the individual aeries that had once made up those principalities each attempted to assert their dominance in turn. By the modern age, the Griffon Empire had completely faded, leaving in its place several-dozen fractious aeries working their way through a never-ending cycle of alliances and betrayals as each tried to build power and claim dominance, only to be torn down by their rivals, or even their own allies as the griffons tried to clamber over each other in order to gain control of the whole of their people; the promise of the rebirth of their great empire paradoxically proving to be as divisive as it was unifying.
"It would be a major coup if he could pull it off," admitted Shining Armor.
"All the same, it's all so much horseapples!" snapped Cadance, causing the others to flinch at the tone of anger in the Princess of Love's voice as much as they did at her language. It was very unlike Cadance to be so angry. "This vicious brute is threatening my little ponies with enslavement so he can strut in front of his fellows and brag about what a big griffon he is. The crystal ponies have just been freed from the clutches of one such tyrant only to find another vying for control in his place. I won't have it!" Cadance slammed her hooves down, pushing herself up off the throne and standing at her full height. "Dame Spitfire! If that monster tries to make good on his threat, I expect you to show him and his no quarter."
Spitfire nodded gravely before bowing low and spreading her wings wide. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, you have my solemn vow that, while I still draw breath, I will not allow our enemies to molt even a single feather within the boundaries of the Crystal Empire."
"Thank you Spitfire," said Cadance, before she began to sway slightly, "Oooh...that wasn't very bright of me to get carried away like that." The pink princess slumped back into her seat.
Shining was at her side in an instant, nuzzling his wife and stroking her hoof reassuringly. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Cadance nodded back, giving her husband an encouraging smile. "I'm fine. I just got so upset at thinking about these poor ponies being used as pawns in somegriffon's sick political schemes." She turned her benevolent and loving smile on Spitfire. "Thank you so much for everything."
"Don't worry about it," said Spitfire, "I will stand by my vow."
"I'll stand by her vow too," added Soarin', "And I know the rest of the Wonderbolts will too. We'll keep the Crystal Empire safe for you. Heck, once everything's settled, we can give the crystal ponies their first air-show in a thousand years."
"Thank you so much Soarin'," said Cadance, giggling at his enthusiasm, "It makes me glad to hear you say that. Rainbow Dash will be an extremely lucky mare someday." She gave the pale-blue stallion an exaggerated wink.
Soarin's blush was visible even through his flight suit. "You...you know about that?"
Cadance giggled even harder, this time with Spitfire joining in. She tapped her horn and gave Soarin' a coy look. "Love Princess, remember?"
Soarin's jaw worked silently for a moment. "Oh...uh...right..."
It was a little too much to bear, so the four of them broke down laughing right then and there, the tension abating for a little while at least.
Once the formalities were concluded, Spitfire and the Wonderbolts were free to get down to the business of protecting the Crystal Empire. While Cadance was more than happy to give the Wonderbolts the run of her palace and its rooms for their time in residence, Spitfire had other plans. Within hours, the Wonderbolts went to work gathering clouds, compacting and molding them into proper building materials. Normally, this was exceedingly difficult (not to mention illegal) to do without the assistance of the dedicated building-cloud facilities in cities like Cloudsdale. But, as a Knight, Spitfire could easily supersede the need for permission. Also, this was not the first time she and her Wonderbolts had assembled an aerial base from scratch.
In about two days, the Wonderbolts had constructed a small airborne fortress, composed to dense, packed clouds that would serve as their staging area, once it was moved into the airspace directly between the Crystal Empire and White Mountain. The accommodations were spartan, to say the least, but they were serviceable and sufficiently comfortable.
Upon the construction's completion, Spitfire began assigning duties to her team. Given the possibility of a prolonged wait, she made sure that everypony got a chance to spend some time in the Crystal Empire proper. The rest spent their time out on patrol, keeping the skies under surveillance and looking out vigilantly for any signs of a griffon incursion.
On the third day following their arrival, Spitfire was distracted from her work reading the report that she'd gotten from Wave Chill, who had just come back from his latest patrol, by a familiar warbling trill. Her face broke out in a sunny grin as she rushed to the window of her office and threw it open.
"About time you got here," she said cheerfully as a brightly-colored bird swooped in through the window and alighted on a stand next to her desk that Spitfire had prepared just for this occasion.
Ouranos let out a soft squawk before he held up one claw and released the scroll he carried in with him, dropping it onto the desk for Spitfire's perusal. Trotting up, Spitfire lifted her head and gently nuzzled Ouranos's beak, the phoenix letting out a happy chirp before settling down onto the stand and tucking his head underneath his wing, tired after the long flight from Canterlot.
Spitfire chuckled and turned her attention to the scroll, which, as she had expected, came from Princess Celestia.
My devoted Knight;
The situation is almost exactly as we anticipated. Whiteclaw arrived with all due fanfare in Canterlot, where he immediately began to mock our hospitality and flaunt his supposed superiority. He has been issuing demands right and left, still clinging to the false claim that the Crystal Empire is the ancestral home of his griffons. Whenever we point out the folly of his claim, he dissolves immediately into a flurry of demands for reparations, demanding material, money, and territory. At one point, he even had the gall to suggest that we send one of our Element Bearers to reside with his clan on the supposition that the Elements of Harmony are some kind of superweapon that could be turned against the griffons.
Needless to say, these demands have all been rejected, which has only served to inflame Whiteclaw's anger further. If he doesn't storm off back to his aerie in a rage in the next couple of days, I shall be quite surprised. That said, I doubt that his forces will try anything until their lord has returned, given that he would want to be seen leading any attack against ponies personally. However, I suggest you remain vigilant, just in case he proves to be uncharacteristically clever this time around.
Ouranos was kind enough to leave me with a small supply of his feathers, should it prove necessary to contact you in a hurry. Otherwise, you can expect any further contact to be relayed through standard channels.Stay watchful and stay safe;
Princess Celestia
Spitfire set the scroll aside and spared a glance for her sleeping friend. Briefly, she wondered if they might be able to end things without bloodshed this time.
The next two days passed without incident, with no signs of the griffons even thinking of launching attack. Granted, they were still a substantial distance away, far enough that White Mountain was just one peak, barely distinguishable from the countless others of the distant mountain range. Furthermore, Spitfire made certain the Wonderbolts stayed well clear of the border between Equestria and griffon lands, mostly to keep the griffons from realizing that the Equestrians had caught on to their plans, but also to ensure that, even if the griffons did invade, at least they wouldn't be able to accuse Equestria of doing the same.
Given the quiet tension that was suffusing the air, Spitfire was almost relieved to see one of Ouranos's feathers snap off with a loud, sparking pop, practically exploding into a scroll, which the fiery-colored mare caught deftly before unrolling it. The message was short and to the point. Negotiations had broken down and Whiteclaw's party was making its return to White Mountain. No consensus had been reached and Whiteclaw refused to withdraw his aerie's claim to the Crystal Empire. It looked like conflict was inevitable.
In spite of the imminent threat, Spitifre calmly maintained the patrols and continued rotating the Wonderbolts through the Crystal Empire. Given the clear view they had of White Mountain, it would be easy to spot any invading force approaching, so she would have plenty of warning to muster everypony. However, she met with Cadance and Shining Armor, making further defensive arrangements, just in case the worst somehow came to pass.
In the meantime, word of the Crystal Empire's reemergence was clearly spreading, with trains from the south bringing in the first parties of tourists and businessponies looking to set up shop to deal with the newly opened demographic. In addition, the Empire was visited by settlers in the outlying regions of the north, traders bringing their own goods, using the Crystal Empire as a convenient and scenic point where they could conduct their business. They even began receiving visits from griffons from a few of the more friendly aeries on the Equestrian border. The Crystal Empire was rapidly beginning to turn into a hub of trade and commerce, something that greatly pleased Cadance as all the contact and business helped expedite the integration of the crystal ponies into modern Equestria.
However, not all the developments were good ones. In the distance, dark figures could be seen flitting through the skies around White Mountain, coming and going...but mostly coming. It was an unmistakable sign that Whiteclaw was beginning to muster his soldiers, calling in forces from his allied aeries to mass for an attack to seize the Crystal Empire by force. Spitfire spent less and less time in her office and more time on the top of their airbase, her eyes fixed on the mountain as she looked for some telltale sign that would signal that the invasion was about to begin.
As it turned out, the signs were impossible to miss.
It was early in the morning when the griffons made their advance. Spitfire had just finished breakfast and was out on her platform, watching the mountain, as usual, when she spotted a black cloud lift off from the peak. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as a swarm of countless griffons steamed out of their mountain aerie and assembled in the sky, like a massive flock of birds.
Spitfire turned her attention to the small thunderhead she'd installed on this platform exactly for this situation. Without hesitation, she bucked the dark cloud, causing it to spit a small bolt of lightning with a loud crack. The noise immediately set off a flurry of activity in the compound as the residing Wonderbolts rushed from their quarters and assembled on the staging area, a platform of cloud erected on the side of the base facing the griffon lands. Looking up, she already spied the four ponies she'd sent out on patrol rushing back to join the fold.
Swooping down to the staging area, Spitfire wasted no time setting things in motion.
"Fleetfoot, head back to the palace, notify everypony that their leaves have been cancelled. I'm drumming everyone up. Make sure you let Shining Armor know so he can get his shield ready."
The notoriously temperamental mare nodded sharply and rushed off to carry out her orders. The rest assembled in neat ranks, which were quickly swelled by the new arrivals as Spitfire turned to watch the griffons. The massive flock had stopped circling in place over the mountain peak and was now beginning to make its way across the open expanse between the mountains and the Crystal Empire. Spitfire estimated she still had a couple hours before the griffons arrived, maybe an hour and a half if she was going to fly out to meet them like she'd originally planned. The griffons were clearly in no hurry, Whiteclaw at least proving wise enough not to sacrifice moving in good order for speed.
As it was, that left them plenty of time, as, within the hour, the rest of the Wonderbolts that had been staying in the Crystal Empire rejoined them. Her force assembled, Spitfire turned back to address them.
"Alright everypony!" she said sharply, "I'm not going to soften the blow. This is gonna be one of our toughest jobs yet. Our duty is clear. We will fly out and meet these griffons head on. If we can dissuade them from attacking, that's fine. But, if things head south, it's our job to ensure not one of them so much as sets a single claw in the Crystal Empire. You know what to do if it comes to that. Fly hard, fight harder, and keep each other safe."
"Yes ma'am!" snapped the assembled Wonderbolts in perfect unison.
Spitfire turned and spread her wings, her team executing the same motions with perfect precision. As a single unit, they lifted off of the staging area and took to the skies, heading straight for the oncoming mass of griffons. With a burst of flame, Ouranos joined them.
In the ordinary course of things, Whiteclaw wasn't at all surprised to meet at least some resistance. Even as weak as they were, even ponies weren't about to give up without a token effort. Given how long it had taken him to muster his forces for the attack, he wouldn't have been surprised to see a few hundred of Equestria's Guard coming to meet him and his forces, not that the Guard would have stood any chance against an army of over a thousand griffons, outfitted with the finest equipment that could be produced in the aeries.
Ever since his younger days, when he was being groomed to one day rule over White Mountain, Whiteclaw had looked at the ponies and wondered why his people allowed Equestria to continue to exist. Ponies were weak. They had no claws, fangs, sharp beaks, or armor. They were weak. They were helpless. They were prey. All they had was their pathetic magic. If the griffon aeries massed as one, they could easily sweep across Equestria and crush all resistance, seizing the nation's bounty and making it their own. Whiteclaw never truly understood how the great King Ironclaw could have been such a bungler of epic proportions to somehow manage to fail with a force easily twenty-times what Whiteclaw had massed.
Equestria had somehow beaten back the forces of the Griffon Empire all those centuries ago. But, like the pathetic grass-grazers they were, they had no stomach for bringing the fight to their enemies. So they sat back, content in their miraculous victory. They raised no armies, built no fortifications, made no effort to prevent a future attack. It was as though they thought that no nation would be foolish enough to attack them after they had somehow avoided annihilation. Whiteclaw looked forward to teaching them their folly.
However, not even Whiteclaw expected to be greeted by a mere score-and-one of ponies dressed in gaudy blue and gold flight suits. Perhaps these were the famous Wonderbolts he had heard about.
Is Celestia serious about this? She's so desperate that she's sending showponies to fight me. Whiteclaw could scarcely contain his glee. This would be even easier than he had expected.
The formation of approaching pegasi came to a halt a short distance away, settling into a hover as they waited for the army of griffons to close the remaining distance. To Whiteclaw's surprise, his keen, eagle eyes didn't pick up the slightest trace of fear or hesitation amongst the assembled Wonderbolts. He couldn't even see any signs of the resignation that indicated that they were prepared to die to obstruct his army's advance.
Raising his foreclaw, Whiteclaw bade his army to come to a halt as well as he flew on alone into the hailing distance of the pegasi. A flash of fire from above drew his eyes upward, where he saw the elaborate plumage of a male phoenix hovering overhead as well. They even brought some kind of mascot with them. How stupid are these ponies? Are they thinking they can scare us off with one of their shows?
Lowering his gaze back down, Whiteclaw saw that a single mare had detached herself from the formation of pegasi and was now coming to meet him. What bits of her that he could see that weren't obstructed by the flight suit were yellow, while her mane and tail were composed of yellow and orange streaks, like tongues of flame. She glared at Whiteclaw with brilliant orange eyes.
For a moment, the two of them simply stared one another down in silence, each apparently waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, the mare spoke. "You and your forces are trespassing on Equestrian territory. Leave at once."
For a moment, Whiteclaw was completely unable to contain his surprise. This mare...this...pony dared to call his army's glorious advance trespassing. Just who did she think she was? The insult was unacceptable. "Listen here you filthy herd animal. I am Whiteclaw, lord of the White Mountain Aerie. My soldiers and I have come to reclaim our ancestral land of the Griffon Crystal Empire."
"I know who you are," said the mare with a casual roll of her eyes that made Whiteclaw want to rip out her throat right then and there, "Like I said. You're not welcome here, so take your army and your falsified claims and try them on somebody more gullible." She favored him with a mocking smile. "Try the diamond dogs. I hear they'll believe anything you say, though you'll have to give them a small mountain of gems to get them to listen in the first place."
Whiteclaw glared at the mare who had the audacity to mock him and ground the edges of his beak together. "Are you so foolish as to think you can stop us? We number over a thousand against a mere twenty of you."
Spitfire's smirk widened. "No, I don't think I could stop you with twenty ponies. Just one is enough. You griffons are superior in only one respect."
"And what's that?"
"You are better at losing."
Whiteclaw's jaw dropped. "How dare you? You speak to your betters in such a way...You weakling ponies have no right to claim this land. You have no real strength. You are just prey." He glared at Spitfire. "I will tear your heart out and have it roasted. I will sup on your innards at my victory banquet."
"You can try," replied Spitfire with a chuckle. However, she seemed to reign in her mirth. Once she did, she gave Whiteclaw a look that sent a tremor from the tip of his beak to the very ends of the hairs on his lion's tail. "I am Spitfire of the Celestial Order of Knights: Knight of the Undying Flame! Here is my promise to you. If you take your forces, leave, and forget about this idiocy from now on, I will let you. Nopony will pursue you and you will be able to return to your aeries unharmed.
However, if you try to push ahead..." Fire blossomed from Spitfire's wings, streaming out from her body as she suddenly became wreathed in flame. "...I give you this promise instead. I will turn your army into ash. My forces will carve you into pieces and scatter them to the four corners of the world. Whether you survive or not, this 'war' shall be remembered as Whiteclaw's Folly and your name shall be forever remembered as a curse by your own people." She narrowed her eyes and glared straight at the griffon lord. "So I will tell you one last time. Turn back."
Spitfire's tirade had actually made the griffon fall back a few wingbeats. He was completely unprepared for the force of Spitfire's will. For a moment, his instincts screamed at him to flee, to fly back to his aerie and hole-up in the deepest of his caverns, curl up into a ball, and never come out. However, with an exertion of will, he was able to overcome his fear. When he did, he returned Spitfire's glare as his fear was overshadowed by pure rage. This delusional grass-eater dares to speak to me like that... Whiteclaw could stand no more.
Turning back, he flew back to his army, letting out a sound that was halfway between an eagle's scream and a lion's roar.
"KILL THESE PONIES! RIP THEM TO PIECES! TODAY WE SINK OUR CLAWS INTO THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE! WE WILL MAKE THEIR STREETS RUN RED WITH BLOOD!"
Shrieking and roaring, a thousand griffons descended on the twenty assembled Wonderbolts like a swarm of hornets.
"Well...you certainly got them all riled up Captain," said Soarin' as he watched the swarm of half-lion, half-eagle creatures surge toward them.
"Too bad for them then," said Spitfire before turning to shout at the Wonderbolts over her shoulder, "LISTEN UP! TODAY WE REMIND THESE FEATHERBRAINS JUST WHY THEY LEFT EQUESTRIA ALONE FOR THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!"
"YES MA'AM!" thundered the Wonderbolts in return.
"OURANOS!" At Spitfire's shout, the phoenix went into a sharp dive, practically aiming for a collision with his friend and partner.
As the two came together in an explosion of varicolored flame, Soarin' grinned and glanced over at Rapidfire. "Let's get this cleaned up and we'll be back in time for dinner."
Perhaps it was to the griffons' credit that they didn't flinch at the sudden burst of flame that enveloped Spitfire and her phoenix companion. They continued to rush forward unchecked. However, as Spitfire's silhouette emerged from the flames, they quickly learned the error of their ways.
The frontrunners barely caught a glimpse as something lashed out from where Spitfire was still hovering, snapping like a whip in their direction. It was too fast to observe in detail, so the only thing the leading griffons were able to see was a twisting, sinuous, glowing line...
...It was also the last thing that they saw.
The strange, whip-like attack slashed through the front ranks of the charging victims, cleaving through their armor like a hot knife through butter, leaving lines of molten steel in its wake. It carved through the griffons’ bodies with the same ease, cutting, severing, leaving their bodies in pieces that fell towards the ground below. As the weapon retracted, Spitfire’s body became clearly visible and it became obvious how she had launched her first attack.
Long plumes stretched out behind Spitfire, where her tail had originally been, looking to all the world like chains of multicolored jewels. They whipped about with incredible speed, their edges superheated with power circulating like the blade of a rotary saw, allowing them to melt through steel…and flesh…and bone.
Spitfire had been completely transfigured. Her eyes glowed like twin suns, while a feathery crest emerged where her mane had once been. Tongues of flame scattered from her body like molted feathers, while the primaries of her wings looked as though they had been dyed with a vibrant amethyst. Her plain yellow coat had been overtaken by flickering flames.
Before the next griffons in line could even react, Spitfire’s wings snapped out to their fullest extent as she met their charge with one of her own. With the motion of spreading her wings, they seemed to expand in size, forming gigantic, wing-shaped projections of flame that filled the sky on either side of them. That flame bore down on the ranks of the griffons like a crashing wave. The vanguard of their assault vanished into ash as Spitfire plowed through them, their armor proving to be no protection against the intense heat.
Seeing the death of untold dozens of their comrades caused the next ranks of griffons to falter in their advance as they wisely sought to avoid their allies’ fate. However, their hesitation proved to be fatal as, in focusing on avoiding Spitfire, they left themselves open to a completely different kind of attack.
The Wonderbolts capitalized on the griffon army’s disrupted advance and charged forward. Two pairs moved to either side of the massive swath Spitfire had cut through the enemy ranks. On one side, Fleetfoot and Rapidfire, Soarin’ and Twister on the other. The two pairs began a tight corkscrewing maneuver as they charged into the griffon ranks. Their pegasus magic pulled at the air around them, forming a pair of tornadoes that thrust into the mass of griffons at opposite directions. The intense winds drew all the griffons in their vicinity in close, stealing control of the air out from under their wings.
Pained screeches echoed through the sky as griffons collided with one another. However, this proved to be only a minor inconvenience to what followed as the remaining Wonderbolts followed in the wake of their friends’ tornadoes, their feathers flickering with magic. In their passes, the Wonderbolts’ Daisy Cutter technique sliced through the griffons’ steel armor almost as easily as Spitfire’s superheated plumes had. They exercised no restraint and did not hesitate to cut into vital parts of the body, severe limbs, and send griffons plummeting to their deaths. This was war after all. Since the griffons clearly had no intent on granting any mercy to their fallen foes, the Wonderbolts felt no such compunction either.
Thus, in the opening seconds of the battle, the Wonderbolts had completely destroyed the griffon army’s momentum. The griffons’ foes were now deep within their own ranks, surrounded by clawed death on all sides. And yet, the Wonderbolts did not hesitate at being outnumber. They did not falter at being surrounded. As the griffons attempted to mass and hem them in from all sides, as well as above and below, they instead broke off into pairs and charged again, straight into the thick of the enemy.
Whiteclaw was beside himself with rage. This was not what he had been promised. The Crystal Empire had been suposed to be easy pickings. Any resistance would be swallowed up in mere moments. And yet, here he was, watching his army of a thousand being stymied by a mere twenty ponies. He watched as his forces massed again in an effort to crush Spitfire and her Wonderbolts with sheer numbers. However, he quickly realized that this was a hopeless strategy.
“SPREAD OUT!” he roared, “DON’T MASS TOGETHER!”
Those nearest to him appeared to get the message, scattering. Whiteclaw realized that massing together merely provided a target-rich environment before the overwhelming power of the ponies’ attacks. Several were too late in following orders, as Spitfire lashed out with her wing, forming another massive sheet of flame that swept across nearly a dozen griffons in a single instant, completely disintegrating them. However, the rest of his warriors managed to follow orders properly and pull themselves clear.
His voice even reached out to where the others had been massing for their attack on the Wonderbolts. However, the Wonderbolts themselves had already scattered into pairs. One pair split up, swooping around a group of griffons, their wings again flickering with that strange magic that turned their feathers into razor-sharp blades. A couple of griffons were too slow to react and were sliced to pieces in the initial pass. The others quickly backed away from the two Wonderbolts as the ponies swooped around, continuing to menace the griffons. The griffons realized too late that they had been massed into a rather large ball as the pair of ponies continued to circle around them, herding them closer and closer together into an airborne ball of feathers and fur.
Then a second pair of ponies charged straight into the thick of the griffon mass, again moving in that agile corkscrew maneuver. However, this time, instead of creating another tornado, they simply used the Daisy Cutter to slice through as many griffons as they could in a single pass. The griffons scattered. But, in the process, even more of them fell to the swooping passes of the Wonderbolts that had been herding them together in the first place.
Across the sky other quartets of Wonderbolts executed the same maneuver, one pair herding a large number of griffons into a ball, while the other pair charged straight into their midst to inflict as much damage as possible before the griffons could escape.
In the meantime, Spitfire countered Whiteclaw’s orders with another trick. She snapped her wings out again. Several-dozen of her coverts scattered into the air around them. They came to a halt a short distance away from her, hanging about like dozens of tiny, flickering flames. Next, Spitfire executed an exaggerated sweep of her wings, inscribing an exaggerated arc on either side of her. The detached feathers suddenly launched themselves away in a barrage of fiery darts.
Now with room to maneuver, many of the griffons around Spitfire twisted and turned to escape the volley. However, several of them were quite unlucky. One griffon reeled as a single feather embedded itself into the base of his wing. Before he could react, it burst into flames that rolled across his body, incinerating his own feathers even as it seared through his flesh. Enveloped in flame, the unfortunate soldier dropped to the ground like a meteor. And he wasn’t the only one. All around Spitfire, Griffons seemed burst into flame like torches as they caught her feathery darts.
Seeing this, Whiteclaw opened his mouth, but stopped short as he realized he had no idea what to say. Simply screeching in rage and berating his troops would have no effect. And he couldn’t think of a single strategy. His army’s initial advance had been completely stymied by Spitfire’s own charge and any semblance of order and coordination between the griffons was subsequently crushed by the Wonderbolts’ followup. When Whiteclaw had ordered his soldiers to scatter in order to keep them from all getting killed at once, the Wonderbolts had seamlessly altered their strategy and forced groups of griffons back together into tightly-packed masses that could be easily picked off. Worse still, Spitfire had been barely inconvenienced by the shift and had brought down dozens more of his soldiers.
The battle was scarcely seven-minutes-old and the would-be conqueror was already losing troops by the score. Aside from numbers, there was another clear difference between the two opposing forces. The griffons were a mass of individuals, the assembled forces of six different aeries. But, with the easy victory he had anticipated, Whiteclaw had given no thought to organization. He’d formed no real chain of command, made no effort to organize his horde into units to coordinate their actions. He’d simply expected to roll over any resistance without the slightest effort.
On the other hoof, the Wonderbolts flew as though they were twenty ponies sharing a single mind. They acted to support one another, to coordinate their action with barely any signals and no exchange of orders. They moved with the flawless precision of fliers who had practiced working the sky together until they could no longer move their wings. These were ponies who had lived, laughed, and fought together until they no longer needed a chain of command. With their skill and unity of purpose, they had completely reversed the odds against them and turned the griffon army's greatest asset, their numbers, into a disadvantage.
Still, Whiteclaw's army had the ultimate advantage. The Wonderbolts' (or Spitfire's, for that matter) stamina couldn't be infinite. Sooner or later, the numbers would begin to tell. The ponies would get tired and then they would fall. When it came down to attrition, the side with superior numbers would win the day. So what if the ponies were mowing his troops down like grass right now? At least, that's what Whiteclaw told himself as he swallowed, finding his throat dry.
That was when the griffon lord realized something else. His throat wasn't dry simply because of fear or nerves. The air around him was slowly growing uncomfortably hot. The air was dry and smelt of ash. And the temperature was only just beginning to rise. Whiteclaw's confusion mounted as he began to hear the rasping sound of griffons choking. Several were simply dropping from the sky with no obvious signs of injury. Some appeared to be having difficulty breathing.
Finally, Whiteclaw realized the source of the rise in temperature as Spitfire continued to cast her flames across the battlefield. Her targets had scattered, but that didn't stop her from hunting them down, targeting them with barrages of her shed feathers and cutting through them with lashes from her trailing plumes. Even as she fought, the temperature of the air around her continued to rise. Before long, the griffons in her immediate vicinity were beginning to choke as the hot air completely dried their lungs. Others dropped from simple heat exhaustion as Spitfire's flames made the air around her dangerous through simple convection. Now it was no longer about fighting. Even being in the same area of sky as Spitfire was life-threatening.
The griffons were beginning to realize this and were starting to back off. To Whiteclaw's horror, he saw a few beginning to turn and quit the battlefield, winging their way back to his aerie in a steady trickle as they lost their nerve and fled.
"COME BACK YOU COWARDS!" he shrieked, "How can you flee from such a small force? It's only a matter of time until we crush them with our superior numbers."
"You really don't understand battle all that much."
Spitfire's voice and the increase of the ambient temperature around Whiteclaw warned him of her approach. She was now hovering a generous distance away. But the air around Whiteclaw was so hot that it actually hurt to breathe as he sucked in burning gasps.
Spitfire continued. "Whatever reward or plunder you promised them isn't going to be enough to keep them underneath your claws. After all, it's all worthless once your dead. Assuming your predictions are true, they would eventually win over us with sheer force of numbers...but what good is that to those who sacrificed their lives in the meantime. What do they get out of it if they are the ones to die? Some of your 'army' are simply realizing that it's not worth the trouble if they aren't around to share the spoils."
Whiteclaw opened his beak to answer her, but could only hack and cough through his dehydrated throat.
Spitfire glowered at him with her featureless, yellow eyes. "That's the real reason you're losing. You pulled your so-called army together with promises of wealth and power, with an easy victory. You didn't bother trying to bring them together as something more than a bunch of individuals for you to throw at your enemies en-mass. You didn't given them a real sense of purpose. All you and your 'army' are is a gaggle of bullies. Your troops are losing heart because they've seen you can't deliver on your promises. They've decided that it's not worth it to follow you anymore.
Whiteclaw looked past Spitfire to see that even the griffons who weren't facing her directly were beginning to scatter, especially since the rest of the Wonderbolts were proving to be insurmountable foes as well. Even as he watched, he saw a griffon rake his claws across a mare's throat, only for the mare to turn and behead him with a swing of her wing, his attack having either missed its mark or somehow been deflected. The steady trickle of griffons fleeing back to the safety of the aerie was now becoming a flood.
Spitfire turned away from Whiteclaw and flew back to the battle, which was slowly losing its momentum as more and more griffons deserted. The Wonderbolts were actually beginning to run out of opponents. Rage burned in Whiteclaw's heart as he realized that Spitfire was deliberately ignoring him. She had wrenched control of the battle completely out of his claws and no longer even considered him a critical part of his own army.
"Come back and face me!" he shouted at Spitfire's back, the very action of shouting only serving to aggravate the burning of his throat.
She didn't even bother to look back over her shoulder. "You're not worth the trouble. That's the other reason you're losing. All your soldiers are seeing is a blustering fool, screaming out orders and berating them from behind, all while they shoulder the risks and take all the casualties. It would be different if you were actually an effective leader. But right now, you've got nothing, no skill, no courage, nothing worth following...nothing worth defeating either." With that, she shot off, back to the battle.
Her return to the thick of things seemed to signal the fight's conclusion as the griffons broke and scattered when Spitfire approached them. None dared try to attack her. Instead, the remaining elements of Whiteclaw's army broke and fled, scrabbling for the border and White Mountain with all of their remaining strength.
When the griffons broke off and retreated, the Wonderbolts fell back as well. They did not attack, they did not pursue. They merely waited and watched as the last of the griffons fled. Before long, only Whiteclaw was left, a broken general of a defeated army.
"It think it's about time you left too," said Spitfire in her most taunting tone as the flames wreathing her body pulled away and coalesced into the familiar form of the colorful phoenix.
"You'll regret letting me live!" snapped Whiteclaw, "I will return. Next time, I'll be ready for you! I will crush you and your ponies down and I will feast on your flesh!"
"No you won't," replied Spitfire flatly, "Every griffon that followed you today knows what an incompetent you are. They won't follow you anymore. Your power is broken and they'll remember why attacking Equestria is a bad idea. If you suggested it again, I wouldn't be surprised if the griffons of your own aerie killed you with their own claws. Either way, this is the end for you."
With an angry snarl, Whiteclaw turned and fled.
As the griffon lord dwindled into a speck in the distance, Spitfire turned around and surveyed her Wonderbolts, nervously counting each and every one. When she finished, she let out a relieved sigh. Twenty Wonderbolts had followed her out this day and twenty now hovered attentively in front of her. They'd all survived and they'd won.
Spitfire had trained her ponies well. But that didn't change the fact that she worried about them all the same. This was the first major incursion that they'd seen off in their tenure as Wonderbolts. Minotaur raids and bandit hunts didn't even compare to the scale of battle against a full-sized army. Spitfire was glad that all their hard work had paid off. More importantly, she was glad to be able to tell Cadance that she wouldn't have to worry about any more griffon invasions.
But she figured that she and the Wonderbolts could stick around the Crystal Empire a while longer, just to be safe.
Besides...Soarin' did promise them and air show.
Whiteclaw collapsed on the slopes of his mountain, gasping for breath and crawling desperately towards the trickling sound of a small brook tumbling across the stones. The flight back had been an arduous one, thanks to the time he'd spent basking in the heat of Spitfire's flames. Without at least a few mouthfuls of water, Whiteclaw was afraid that he would die before he could even set foot back in his own aerie.
Finally, his eyes caught a glimmer of sunlight reflecting off the surface of water. There it was. The griffon lowered his beak into the stream and sucked down the water gratefully.
But the water seemed to turn to ashes in his mouth. As much as Whiteclaw hated to admit it, Spitfire was right. His control over his own aerie, much less his allies, was broken. They'd lost faith in him and abandoned him on the battlefield. Returning to the aerie meant facing the soldiers whose comrades Whiteclaw had sentenced to death by urging them onward whilst he had remained at the rear and screamed and squalled when things didn't go his way.
"It would seem that this little invasion you planned went pear-shaped."
Whiteclaw looked up, his eyes widening in surprise before narrowing into an angry glare as he recognized the one addressing him.
"You lied," he hissed, "You said that the ponies were weak, that we would win easily."
"I said that the Crystal Empire was weak," said the other casually, "And that was certainly true. They had returned after being lost in shadow for a thousand years after already suffering who knows how long in slavery under King Sombra. Newly freed, they were kittens before lions." He smiled wryly. "But I never said any such thing about the ponies that Princess Celestia would send to protect them."
"You tricked me!"
"You tricked yourself." There was no anger in the other's voice, nor was there any mocking in his tone. It was the voice of one making dispassionate observations. "You wanted to strut and puff in front of all the other griffon aeries to build your status, so you stated your intentions openly. If you'd simply swooped down on the Crystal Empire without giving them any warning, it would have been yours in less than a day."
Whiteclaw let out an angry hiss. "You used me!"
"Not really," said the figure, "You were simply an unstable element. You see, I'm planning an experiment in the near future. When you're conducting an experiment, one of the most important aspects is to eliminate as many unnecessary variables as possible. Given your impulsive nature and your hatred for ponies, it was practically a given that you would attack Equestria sooner or later. I merely decided to move your timetable forward a bit to get it out of the way.
"It's rather silly that you followed along so easily. Perhaps that is why griffons and ponies will probably never truly get along. As predators, you can't seem to resist the urge to pounce when you are under the impression that potential prey is vulnerable.
"It is rather amusing though. In spite of all your prattle about the superiority of griffons, how much you hate and despise ponies, it seems that you were perfectly willing to believe the word of one." The other chuckled softly. "It would seem that griffons are just as gullible as any other race when it comes to believing what they are told, so long as it's what they want to hear."
"I will feast upon your heart," growled Whiteclaw as he stalked forward.
"Do whatever you please," replied the figure as he turned away, "But I have things to do, I'm afraid. So if you plan on throwing your life away, please get on with it."
With an angry shriek, Whiteclaw hurled himself at his target's back. The other didn't turn. However, something white flashed across the griffon's vision. His blood inscribed a crimson arc through the air and the former lord found himself thrown back against the side of the mountain, unable to feel entire portions of his body. As his vision began to fade, he saw a single white feather drifting aimlessly above him.
“Rest now, Lord Whiteclaw, and trouble yourself no more with the affairs of ponies. Such dark matters are not for you.”
The other cast not a single look behind him as he began to make his way down the mountain and back towards the Equestrian border, the face and name of the now-dead griffon lord fading in his mind as he continued.
"Now then," he muttered, "Time to get back to work."
And then he was gone.