Chapter 14
King Marcus Ironclaw sat on the obsidian throne of the Empire, and smirked.
Yes.
This is how it should be.
A whole country at his whim and the will of the changelings.
This was how it should have always been.
His personal guard of twelve changelings and six griffons stood at perfect attention, flanking the long, crimson carpet that ran through the throne room.The large metal shutters had been pulled down over the windows, making them impenetrable walls of steel. Torches blazed all over the room, a few regular red fires sitting next to acidic green flames of the changeling’s everburn spell. A green banner with a black, horned crown hung above the throne.
Ironclaw spun the ornate golden crown of the Empire around a claw, before tossing it contemptuously into the air. He had his own crown anyway. The black iron, asymmetrical circlet sat atop his head.
He had almost everything.
All he needed now was Equestria, and his plan would be complete.
“Are you pleased, Your Majesty?” a voice asked from behind the throne.
Ironclaw turned to see Chrysalis almost slither behind the throne.
“Almost, Chrysalis. Almost,” was the griffon’s reply.
“You simply require Equestria?”
The griffon grinned.
The large double doors opposite the throne opened, and a changeling quickly crawled forward.
It bowed as it finished its approach.
“Speak, drone,” Ironclaw commanded.
“Your Majesty,” the drone said. “Our scouts in the lower levels report a herd of thirteen ponies that have snuck in. They seem to be led by Julius Ironblood and...one other.”
The griffon smirked. “So the prodigal son returns, does he? With the help of a few ponies no less. Adorable.”
Chrysalis spoke. “And who is this, ‘one other?’”
The changeling was quiet for a second. “Th-This One heard them say that he looked like the Pendragon.”
Silence.
“He’s alive?” Ironclaw asked.
The changeling did it’s best to sink into the floor.
“He’s...alive?” he asked again, standing.
No one dared say a thing.
“The Pendragon is alive!?” He screeched, throwing the golden crown across the room. “The one pony I wanted dead before I started all of this is still alive!?”
Silence.
“Get that failure of an assassin in here! I want him skinned!” he yelled, before pointing at the changeling messenger. “You! Go back down there and tell the scouts that I want them all dead! Do not let any of them go!”
The changeling scurried out of the room.
“Dead! I want them all dead!” he said, shouting after it.
Chrysalis gazed at the griffon. “Are you sure you want the Pendragon killed like this? Wouldn’t you rather kill him yourself?”
“Know your place!” Ironclaw snarled. “Do not tell me what I want!”
Chrysalis said nothing.
“The Pendragon is too dangerous. He needs to be stopped now.”
Chrysalis nodded. “And the invasion force?”
Ironclaw hesitated. “Put half of them on standby. We should be fine, but I want a force ready in case the Pendragon lives.”
“And the advanced forces?”
“Have them wait.”
Chrysalis was about to ask if that was a wise decision, but said nothing.
“After all,” she thought with a smirk, “it’s not my place.”
“As you wish, your majesty.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
The armored living weapon that was Big Macintosh lumbered up the stairs of their hallway. Fluttershy followed close behind.
The only sound she could hear was the clinking of the armor next to her.
They had been walking in silence for the past ten minutes, and it was starting to get awkward for Fluttershy.
The pegasus had never really experienced “awkward silence,” before. She found silence nice, calm, and peaceful. More often than not, in fact, she was actually a source of awkward silence when she went with a small group of friends.
But it was really hard to compete with Big Mac when it came to being quiet.
She may even have to relinquish her title of world champion.
She wondered what she should ask about. Family seemed too personal, but business seemed too impersonal. She was fairly up-to-date on the farmstead in general, and they had already had a very good, long conversation about their hobbies a month or so ago, and she didn’t want to seem repetitive.
She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it.
What if he doesn’t want to talk? Maybe he just likes silence more than she did. Should she apologise for that? No. No, wait, you apologise for things you already did.
Sorry, brain, for forgetting that.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry for not remembering for you.”
Luckily, before she could get caught in an infinite apology loop, Big Mac broke the silence. “How are things lookin’ over at yer cottage?”
“Hm? Oh! Things are going well. I think my fence is starting to creak again.”
“Already? Ah thought Ah just fixed it.”
“Oh, you did!” Fluttershy reassured. “It’s just creaking further down the line.”
“Huh. I thought I checked that…”
“I...I...uh...I think Mr. Beaver came by...and...and I told him not to, but he had already gotten to it before I could say anything.”
“Ah see,” Mcintosh said, nodding in understanding.
“Oh thank Celestia, he bought that,” her brain said.
Should we apologize for lying?
“Well…only if he finds out…”
I am okay with that.
“What about the henhouse?” Mac asked.
“Oh, its as sturdy as ever, now. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Good to hear. Make sure the beaver stays away though.”
“Oh...yes...I’ll be sure to do that.”
“Anything else fallin’ apart?”
“N-no...not that I can think of.”
“Shame,” Big Mac muttered.
“What?”
“I said good.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
The tension had been broken though, so it wasn’t awkward.
Big Mac stopped suddenly.
“What is it?” Fluttershy asked.
“Sh. Thought Ah heard something…”
Fluttershy squeaked and tried to find somewhere to hide, the very thought of being found scaring her.
Big Mac’s ears stood straight, listening intently. “Ah think it’s gone,” he said finally, before turning to his companion.
Or at least, to the air where she had been once.
He blinked, before hearing another squeak.
He looked down in front of him, and there she was, hiding beneath him as though he were some sort of table or something.
Big Mac smiled. It had been awhile since he was last used as a meat shield. Good memories. “Miss Fluttershy.”
She cracked one eye open.
He looked down at her with a knowing smile.
She blushed, before sliding out from under him.
“Thank ya kindly,” he said, before doing his best to sneak forward, which is apparently very difficult in platemail.
As the two ponies inched towards the corner, the clanking quickly caused the pegasus to begin grinding her teeth together in nervousness. The incessant clanking was bound to get them caught. If they got caught, then they’d have to get into a fight. If they got into a fight, then somepony might get hurt, or somegriff, or...some...ling?
Fluttershy spoke up. “Um...maybe...I should...go alone. If you’re...okay with...that…”
Big Mac looked up at her as she hovered nervously, and then down at his platemail. “Alright...Just be careful.”
She nodded, before fluttering closer to the corner, her wings hardly making a sound as they flapped.
She landed softly next to the end of the wall, taking a deep, silent breath as she carefully peeked around the corner.
She saw an intersection with three new paths, each lit by a torch. The same dark stone that was almost literally everywhere made the flagstones and walls, leaving all three hallways identical.
But what caught Fluttershy’s eye the most were the three changelings standing guard. They stood stoic and uncaring, their eyes staring straight ahead.
She tried her best not to “eep” as she pulled away.
The “e” got by though.
One changeling’s head snapped towards the corner, its two, fleshy pseudo ears peaked and swiveling towards her.
“Do you hear something?” One of the other changelings asked.
“This One thinks so.”
Fluttershy held her breath and deeply wished she could melt into the wall.
She heard three hoofsteps step towards her.
She shut her eyes tight, hoping that was all he was going to tale.
“This One doesn’t hear anything.”
“This One thinks you are right.”
“Come back. We have to keep guard here.”
“This One is coming.”
Fluttershy began to slide away, keeping her back to the wall as the changelings returned to their posts. She didn’t dare let the breath go until she was fifty hooves away, in the safety of Big Mac’s sight.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Ch-changelings. Three of them.”
“And their blocking our path too, Ah take it?” he asked with a grimace. “Alright, let me think a moment.”
Now, Big Mac would readily admit that he was no philosopher. The mysteries and secrets of the universe were never his ponder. But that did not mean he was not a thinker. He simply thought about the more practical things. Things like how to get the cider squeezer to work better. Or how to gather apples faster. That sort of thing.
After...after a certain incident, he had made it a point to always have a plan or two on hoof. After a few years of near-tragedies, and careful tinkering, Big Mac had come up with a system for coming up with a plan in any situation: Come up with three plans. Ignore all others. Weigh pros and cons. Stick to those plans.
More than three plans left an element of uncertainty. If one were to fail, he’d have too many alternatives to choose from.
Less than three, and he’d have too few options. If one were to fail, and his second would be difficult to pull off, then he was not in the best position.
So, when Big Mac finally turned, and told Fluttershy “Ah have a plan,” it was a bit of a lie.
He had three.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Whoo-hoo.
The changelings’ ears all stood on end as they heard the whistle.
“What was that sound?” One asked.
“This One doesn’t know.”
Whoo-hoo.
They all zeroed in on the source this time, and saw a small tuft a pink hair laying on the floor by the corner.
“Go report this,” one of the changelings said.
One nodded, before heading down a hallway.
“You, come with This One.”
The changeling nodded, before following.
Whoo-hoo. Came the whistle before the tuft of hair disappeared around the corner.
The two changelings followed.
They quickly tailed the disappearing hair, following it as they crawled along the wall and floor.
“Stop and be recognized,” came the almost robotic order.
There was only a whistle in reply.
They both ran after it, searching for the source of the noise, chasing it with a passion.
“Stop and be recognized!”
Whoo-hoo.
The two changelings turned the corner, and their world exploded in pure, white pain as their heavily armored heads were suddenly smashed by Big Mac’s magically enhanced hooves.
The changelings went down, falling unconscious almost instantly, quickly followed by two quick nicks from the Blue Whinnis-covered wing daggers, ensuring their sleep would be a long one.
“Sorry about this,” Fluttershy said, before quickly making sure their wounds were as minor as possible.
“Weren’t there three of ‘em?” Big Macintosh asked.
“Y-yes, they sent him up to report us.”
Big mac nodded. “Alright, then we better git.”
“Bu-but won’t we run into the changeling?”
“We have a one-in-three chance of just picking the right hallway, Fluttershy,” he said. “And even if’n we do pick the right one, he’ll be heading in the same direction as us.”
“So...we’ll be safe?”
“Eeyup,” came the simple reply. “Now let’s hurry. We ain’t got much in the way o’ time.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
The two ponies were quick to run down the hallway they picked, Big Mac’s hooves thundering and armor clanking as he ran, followed by Fluttershy’s almost silent flying.
“Do you think we picked the right one?” She asked.
Big Mac didn’t answer.
“Do you think we’re heading the right direction?”
No answer.
“Do you think we’ll be safe?”
No answer.
“Do you think—”
“Ah don’t know, Fluttershy,” he said finally. “What Ah do know is worrying ‘bout ain’t going to help anypony.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Right, sorry…”
Big Mac was about to say something further, when they suddenly entered a large room. The large, rectangular space was littered with crates, boxes, weapon racks, chests, and a conglomeration of other storage items.
A torch blazed along one wall.
“Well, Ah guess we were headin’ the right way,” Big Mac said with a smirk.
The sound of angry skittering quickly reached their ears.
“Hide!” Big Mac whispered, faintly aware that this was already on Fluttershy’s mind.
They quickly ducked behind a pair of crates next to the corner, hiding them in shadows.
Six changelings and three griffons burst into the room, the griffons leading.
“Search the room,” a changeling ordered.
The griffons began searching, giving a rather half-hearted look around the room.
The changelings watched them with simple, uninterested glares.
Big Mac watched them from the shadows, his eyes following them as they moved.
Fluttershy whimpered next to him.
He quickly wrapped a foreleg around her, holding her tight as his big-brother instincts kicked in. “We’ll be fine,” he whispered as quietly as he dared.
They searched the room for a minute or two, the griffons lazily checking the chests and crates. “Nothing here but the usual,” one of them grumbled.
“Keep searching!” A changeling hissed.
The lead griffon groaned.
They went back to work searching, the eagle eyes of the griffons easily able to spot the red and yellow ponies hiding in the corner.
“Hey, what’s that?”
Big Mac tensed.
“What?”
“Right there! See it?”
“Oh! Yeah, what is that?”
The stallion felt the pegasus cringe under his arm.
“Ooh, nice.”
“I know, right? I don’t think I’ve seen a dagger like this before.”
Big Mac let a sigh of relief escape his nose.
“I like how the beak of the skull comes down to form the blade.”
“Alright, enough!” A changeling said. “Let’s move, we have more to search.”
The griffons were then pushed out of the room, leaving the two ponies alone in silence.
Big Mac poked his head up over the crate, and stared into the empty room. “Looks like we’re clear. Come on, we got go before they come back.”
She nodded in agreement.
And with that, the two ponies ran down the hallway the changelings had entered from. They quickly made their way to an intersection and took a left.
Big Mac prayed they would not be found.
<<<|Ω|>>>
The two ponies walked in the darkness of the long hallway in silence. The sound of Fluttershy’s feathers ruffling accompanied only by the clank of Big Mac’s armor.
Her wings twitched nervously.
“B-Big Mac?” she asked.
“Eeyup?”
“I...c-could…do you...um…”
He turned to look at her.
“I...um...c-could you please...uh...um…”
Macintosh paused, giving her his full attention.
“I...uh...thought you’re singing was very nice…”
Big Mac waited for her to finished.
“Would...Do you know any other songs?”
“Eeyup.”
“Could...could you sing another one for me?”
Big Mac blinked.
“If...that’s okay with...you…”
The stallion smiled before he began to sing a slow, deep tune.
“From this valley they say you are going.
We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile,
For you take with you all of the sunshine
That has brightened our pathway a while.
So come sit by my side if you love me.
Do not hasten to bid me adieu.
Just remember the Red River Valley,
And the cowboy that has loved you so true.
I've been thinking a long time, my darling,
Of the sweet words you never would say,
Now, alas, must my fond hopes all vanish?
For they say you are going away.”
As he sang, the butter-colored pegasus began to relax. Big Mac’s deep, smooth voice filled the hallway, almost causing it to vibrate under her hooves. Her twitching eased, as she listened, and a smile began to grown on her face.
“So come sit by my side if you love me.
Do not hasten to bid me adieu.
Just remember the Red River Valley,
And the cowboy that has loved you so true.
Won't you think of the valley you're leaving,
Oh, how lonely and sad it will be,
Just think of the fond heart you're breaking,
And the grief you are causing to me.
So come sit by my side if you love me.
Do not hasten to bid me adieu.
Just remember the Red River Valley,
And the cowboy that has loved you so true.”
As the final note faded into the darkness, Fluttershy sighed. “That was beautiful.”
Big Mac smiled. “Thank ya’, kindly.”
“I...I haven’t heard of the Red River Valley, though.”
“Red River is a tributary of the Foggy River, down in the San Palomino Desert.”
“You mean the river that goes through Ghastly Gorge and empties out into Froggy Bottom Bog?”
“Eeyup!” Big Mac said. “Y’see the song—”
He was suddenly interrupted as he ran face first into a griffon.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Thomas Aquilas, soldier in the Imperial army, sighed. He had sworn by his ancestors that he would never again lift a claw against ponykind. There was no way he would ever harm those who had shown him mercy during the war.
And then they held his family captive.
Yeah…
He stood in line, with the rest of his patrol, the obviously outnumbered griffons all talking and joking while the changelings all watched them stoically with dark glances.
He hated it.
All of it.
They were allies now, they shouldn't be fighting at all! But, noooooo. Ironclaw comes back, kills the King, and the next thing you know, it’s back to war! What’s worse, did he really have to be forced out of bed to go on patrol at one in the morning? Couldn’t they get someone else to do this? A good night owl or early morning person?
As he grumbled to himself, bemoaning his circumstances, another changeling entered the room.
“This One has a message from the leaders.”
The changelings all looked at him, waiting for instructions.
“There are three major incidents. One on the western lower level, one on the dungeon levels to the south, and one on the medium levels on the eastern side. You are to take the eastern one, and pacify as it requires.”
The changelings nodded, before they began to move.
The griffons began to follow.
Thomas sighed before falling into line. It was way too early for this.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Thomas muttered under his breath when the changelings and griffons returned, the latter coming back with a new skull-shaped dagger in tow. “This is for your family, Thomas. This is for your family.”
“We have traced back to the cave in and have seen no sign of them,” one of the insectoid creatures said.
“Then they must have gone down a side passage,” another said.
Thomas looked up a moment. Was it just him, or did they all just kinda blur together as a single collective changeling? It was kinda getting creepy.
“How many passages could they have used as alternatives?”
“Four by This One’s count.”
The changeling...leader? Well, whoever that one was, took a quick headcount. “We’ll need to split up into four groups of nine.”
“Ratio?”
“As per our orders.”
“Understood.”
The changelings quickly rounded up the group. “Follow us,” they said collectively.
Oh, yeah, not creepy at all…
<<<|Ω|>>>
Two-to-one odds yet again. It’s almost as if they were expecting us griffons to revolt.
Then again...they did have most of our families hostage.
These thoughts and more ran through the sleep-deprived mind of Thomas Aquilas. His eyes glancing between his two captors and his spear.
The other thoughts running through his head were all something along the line of “what are my chances of getting through their armor?”
They had split off in one of the intersections, and they were now in an area of the fortress that he was unfamiliar with. Too many twists and turns had left him utterly lost now, and he was starting to lose his patience with these two.
Almost as if to answer his prayers, the three of them turned a corner, and were met with another four-way intersection.
He saw one of the changelings grimace, before they both turned to him. “You go left. This One will go straight, he will go right.”
Thomas rolled his eyes before heading left.
Finally a moment alone.
As he stepped into the hallway alone, his thoughts turned to his family. His wife, Anja Ravensoul, was an amazing lioness. Her darker, grey and black plumage set her apart from almost every other lioness that Thomas had ever met.
She was currently held in chains in the lower dungeons.
His son, Titus Eaglespirit, was still young, just coming out of his hatchling days and becoming a fine youth.
He was locked in one of those blasted cocoons, in full view of his wife.
The thought was enough to make the captive soldier want to drive his spear into the nearest changeling’s heart.
Assuming they had any.
The only thing that really stopped him was their thrice-cursed exoskeleton and the fact that his wife would be beheaded at the slightest hint of an uprising.
Ancestors intercede for him.
His ears perked suddenly.
Was...was that music?
Yeah...yeah it was! That was definitely a song there.
He continued down the way, listening to the low echoes of the song, unable to make out the words.
If...if the intruders were here...if he could…
If he could catch them, then maybe...maybe he could buy his family back.
The voices were getting closer now, any second now and he’d have them. All he had to do was get them.
“Eeyup!” he heard a voice say. “Y’see the song—”
Thomas spun around the corner, throwing his weight into one of the intruders before spinning his spear forward.
Fluttershy gasped as a griffon suddenly popped in front of them, a spear spinning in his claw.
She watched as Big Mac jumped backwards, the emeralds on his bracers glowing green as he lifted his hoof to smash his attacker into paste.
They both hesitated.
Big Mac had remembered Alan’s orders at the last moment. No griffon casualties.
Thomas, however, hesitated the second his eyes fell on the pegasus. “Y-you…”
Thomas’ spear lowered. “You...It had to be you…”
Big Mac’s eyes glanced between the griffon and the pegasus, slowly lowering his hoof.
“M-Mr. Aquilas?” Fluttershy asked, her eyes widening in recognition.
Thomas threw his spear to the ground. “Of all the ponies in the world it had to be you!”
Now what was he going to do?
He couldn’t let them go, not without risking his family.
But...but she was the one...the one who had given him back his sight.
He...he couldn’t do that to her.
He slumped to the floor, his claw punching the unyielding flagstones beneath him. Tears began to fill his eyes. “Why did it have to be you?”
A soft hoof rested on his shoulder, and he looked up, and into her teal eyes. “Tell me what’s happened.”
And so he told her.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Fluttershy’s mouth hung agape. “Th-they did that to your family!?”
Thomas nodded. “But...but I can’t give you to them. How can I, when you were the one who returned my sight?”
Fluttershy frowned.
“I…” he shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
She looked over to Big Mac.
Then back down to the griffon that was doing his best to subdue his sobs.
I...I can be brave. And I will be.
“You will hand us over.”
Both males stared at her.
“W-what?” Thomas asked.
“What!” Big Mac cried.
“Big Mac, listen. I think I have a plan.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
One of the two changelings chittered.
Their charge was taking too long.
“Do you think we should go after him?” his brother asked.
“We may have to.”
Both of their pathways had wound up to be dead ends, and now they were just waiting on their charge.
He had been gone for far too long.
“This One will go. You report back, just in case there is trouble.”
“Understood,” the other said, getting ready to take off when they heard something approach.
A heavily armored earth pony and a smaller pegasus appeared, being led by their charge at spearpoint.
“I found these two down there,” their charge said, poking the larger with the spear to push them forward faster. “They were trying to make their way up to the throne room.”
The changelings stared at him with wide eyes. “H-how did you…?”
“Once I caught her, he surrendered,” he explained, before throwing Fluttershy’s wing blades at their hooves. “They each had one.”
The changeling picked up a wing blade in an acidic green field of magic.
“Now, I believe the deal is a one for one?” Thomas said.
The changelings looked at each other.
“Go report this. Then bring another to help.”
“Understood.”
The remaining changeling looked at his charge. “Come with This One.”
--------------------------------
Alright guys! Here’s a bit of a shorter chapter, but—
“Me next!”
Uh…
“Me next! Me next! Me next!”
Uh...sure…?
“Yay! It's about time we got some more comedy in this story!”
Anyways...uh...where was I?
“Do I look like I know?”
Um...so...uh...
“Hey guys! Here’s a video of Mac’s song, just in case you want it!”
I still can’t remember what I was saying…
“Hope you guys had fun! See you all next time!”
Oh wait, I remember! I was saying—
“Bye!”