//------------------------------// // Interlude – Against The Sun // Story: A Kingdom Divided // by Samey90 //------------------------------// A tall, almost black griffon landed on a balcony of the palace in the middle of Everfree Forest. He took off his helmet and wiped some ashes from the front of his armour. Clicking the buttons on a piece of metal covering his foreleg, he disabled the crystals below the weapon mounts and felt the weight of the two cannons. He smiled at the irony of the situation – the technology that was first developed in the Crystal Empire now served his kind in defeating the ponies. Or at least those of them that weren’t currently busy fighting each other. He pushed the balcony door open and entered the chamber. The two bat ponies guards recognised him immediately and led him to the throne on the other side of the room. Below ancient tapestries, the pony sitting on the throne looked small, but he knew that she could soon become the most important pony in Equestria. And, of course, she will remember who helped her to accomplish that. Walking through the throne hall, he remembered the fight. Exploding airships, tracers whistling past him, fallen comrades… Gilda. He saw her dying and he tried his best to avenge her, yet the pony who’d killed her got away unscratched. Gods damn her crazy friend – he was about to pull the trigger, when a wave of buckshot from below almost changed his armour into a sieve. At least he managed to kill one of them – a blue stallion, who spent the last moments of his life calling for help. Seconds earlier he helped Red Baron to finish off the stallion’s wingpony. Actually, he felt that it wasn’t a clean fight, but rather a slaughter – their bullets pierced the mare’s armour as if it was made of paper, and tore her in half before she could even react. No wonder the stallion decided to flee instead of facing them. “Ragnarok,” Princess Luna addressed him. “Where is Red Baron?” “He’s dead, Your Highness,” he replied. “I’m now in charge of the squadron.” “Rather the rest of it,” Luna said dryly. How did you manage to fail despite all these crystals in thy armour?” “I wouldn’t call it ‘failure’, Your Highness,” he said, blushing underneath the black feathers. “We managed to engage the enemy squadron and kill many of the pegasi.” “Yet, you’ve lost three airships and half of your griffons!” Luna shouted, “The crystal ponies are still in Ponyville…” “Not for long!” he interrupted her. “Our forces already captured the Crystal Empire. Prince Shining Armor will surely go there to save his wife…” Luna shuddered, but quickly calmed down. She didn’t want him to see how that news shocked her. She exactly remembered the last time she was in the Crystal Empire. Oh, how wrong she was back then... *** Cadance wandered through the corridor of her castle. Even though the night was dark, the dim light of the crystals was helping her find the way. She turned left and went onto a balcony. “It looks so calm, doesn’t it?” Luna said, looking at the town beneath them. A couple of crystal ponies were still on the streets, walking somewhere or talking. Cadance looked at Luna and, to her surprise, she noticed the traces of tears on her face. “What happened?” she asked. Luna only sighed, lowering her head. “It was something I saw in a dream…” she said, her voice cracking. Cadance looked at her unsurely. She was able to feel the ponies’ emotions towards each other, but Luna’s ability to actually see their dreams always fascinated her. “Was that some kind of nightmare?” Cadance asked. “Does something threaten Equestria?” “Yes and no,” Luna replied. She looked at the town again, then she turned to Cadance. “I found myself in a dream… There were tables full of food there… Not just tables, there were whole rooms of apples, oats, cakes… But then everything suddenly darkened. It did not stopped or changed, the dream just disappeared.” Cadance raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure how the end of the dream would differ from its disappearance, but Luna probably knew what she was saying. “I decided to check it,” Luna said. “I teleported to the place where I had seen that dream – the town of Detrot.” She lowered her head and wept. “There… there were ten foals – dirty, skinny foals – sleeping together under some bridge… Well, except of one filly, maybe eight years old… She… she was dead.” Cadance didn’t know what to say. She could clearly feel Luna’s emotions. Deep under the compassion and sadness, she found something unsettling – a faint shade of anger. “What’s the point of that?” Luna asked. “We are the immortal rulers of Equestria… We defeated so many dangers… And yet, in one of the biggest towns of the country children are dying of hunger and we do nothing about that…” “I’m sure Celestia does something about them,” Cadance replied. “She surely cares about every her subject…” “Cares?” Luna asked bitterly. “Every time I see her recently, I see her with Blueblood, Fancy Pants or some other noble. I have never seen her with starving foals… She rarely leaves Canterlot at all, and even when she does, she does not visit Detrot or Manehattan...” “I’m sure that if she knew… Maybe if you tell her about it…” Cadance shuddered. She could feel anger in Luna growing stronger. But then it disappeared. Or rather, was hidden from her. “Maybe,” Luna said emotionlessly. “Maybe if I show it to her… You know, after I saw that filly, I took a walk around the town, unseen for the ponies. They do not praise the princesses there. All I heard were cries, calls for help… Or for any change. Equestria is a barrel of gunpowder that can blow up at any minute...” “What will happen then?” Cadance asked. “If they rebel…” “They will not stand for a week,” Luna replied. “Blueblood’s private army will obliterate them before the Royal Guard arrive there. They will need somepony who would guide and protect them… Who would channel their energy to change Equestria in the peaceful way…” “What if it’s too late?” Cadance asked. She realised that she too was rarely outside the castles in Canterlot or Crystal Empire. All she knew about Detrot was that it was close to her kingdom and that there were lots of factories there, providing the tools and machines for the rest of Equestria. “It is never too late…” Luna said, staring in the distance. “Somepony will only have to show them the way and protect them from the nobles…” “Protection can quickly change into bloodshed,” Cadance observed. “If it happens, the poor ponies will not be the ones who caused it,” Luna replied. “Unless we will not do anything about that…” She turned away from the balcony and headed to the inside of the castle. “Soon, Cadance, we will have to make a choice…” *** “Who knows? What you would choose if you were him?” Luna asked. “Cadance or the whole Equestria?” Ragnarok furrowed his brow, thinking that if he had to choose Gilda or Griffon Empire, he wouldn’t hesitate for long and go with Gilda somewhere far away from the falling country. Unlike many griffons, he wasn’t a very patriotic individual. Luckily for the Griffon Empire, recent events turned this ponderings obsolete. The crushed body of his only love was now lying on the ground somewhere around Ponyville. “Fortunately, I have another plan,” Luna said. She waved her hoof at the door hidden in the shadows on the far left corner of the throne chamber. It creaked open and somepony stood in it. “Let me introduce somepony to you. She might not have such a marvellous armour, but I assure you she is far more powerful than you and your army of griffons.” Ragnar froze. From what Red Baron told him about Princess Luna, he concluded that she wasn’t more insane than any other pony. However the only creature more dangerous than a detachment of his compatriots he could think of, was a mysterious changeling queen. He shuddered, remembering the captured and tortured drone, calling her name before a bullet to the head put him out of his misery. Would Luna go that far? The pony who stepped out of the shadows looked normal, but Ragnarok was still alert. She – it was definitely a mare – was an ordinary yellow pegasus with purple mane and orange eyes. Ragnar didn’t know much about the ponies’ preferences when it came to mares, but for him she looked nice. However, a closer look revealed some imperfections – there was a faint trace of a bruise on her face, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he noticed some missing teeth. Her eyes weren’t shining, instead she was piercing him with cold gaze. “My name is Parasol. I come from Cloudsdale.” Cloudsdale… Ragnar remembered that name. As soon as they heard about the riots, his squadron was moved to the border, waiting for the escalation of the conflict and the best moment to strike. Then, to his surprise, they got news that Luna looked for mercenaries, followed by a secret order from the Emperor himself. “Parasol was in the group of my followers, when they were attacked,” Luna explained. “She survived and ran away to my castle. Later, she became my spy in Cloudsdale.” “How? Don’t they know that she isn’t one of them?” “Illusion spell. The same my sister uses to make all the Royal Guards look the same.” She aimed her horn at Parasol. A magic aura engulfed her for a split second. When it disappeared, only her eyes looked the same, her coat was now light blue and her mane was violet. “Meet Opal Water. The real one is somewhere around, right, Parasol?” “In the dungeon.” Parasol shuddered visibly upon mentioning Opal Water, but Luna didn’t seem to notice that. “As you said, crystal ponies are still in Ponyville, thinking that it’s the only way we can attack Canterlot. Meanwhile, Cloudsdale is, as Parasol found out, protected only by small forces of Royal Guards. Apparently they think that my army was obliterated in the battle…” Ragnarok’s eyes widened. He knew exactly that whoever possessed Cloudsdale, could easily conquer the whole Equestria. I wish I had more griffons here… “The army in Cloudsdale consists of two hundred Royal Guards and about a hundred of pegasi forming a militia. The latter shouldn’t be a problem – they’re poorly armed and insubordinate; the Royal Guards mostly contain them from killing each other,” Parasol explained. “What guns do they use?” “The Royal Guards have standard equestrian assault rifles, they also have some 20 mm and 88 mm anti-aircraft cannons. The militia has everything they could find: rifles, shotguns, pistols…” Ragnar heard about the equestrian assault rifles. Due to the long period of peace, not many ponies knew how to shoot. When the princesses finally decided to do something about that, they issued a rifle that would be reliable and easy to maintain. They finally found one in Hooviet Union – using the 7.62 x 39 mm cartridge, was able to shoot in any circumstances, even after being sunk in a swamp. Some Ragnar’s friends would give everything to get one, even though the griffonian bullpup rifles were smaller and lighter. Also the trigger, designed to make shooting with hooves easier wasn’t very practical for them. Finally, it wasn’t easy to get 7.62 x 39 mm ammo in the Griffon Empire, where every assault rifle was designed to utilize 5.56 x 45 mm intermediate cartridge. Still, only some units used the assault rifles. Many ponies, especially volunteers, were armed with submachine guns. They were also pretty reliable – they didn’t have to be cleaned for months and still were able to shoot about a thousand rounds per minute. Even though the drum magazine wasn’t very comfortable to carry around, it could store 71 bullets – an amount every griffon warrior would find impressive. “I’m worried about those cannons,” he said to Parasol, whose disguise already faded. “Have you ever seen how the direct hit from 88 mm flak gun looks like?” “I can imagine that,” she replied simply.“But don’t worry, with the pieces of information I gathered we can get through without even seeing them.” *** Ragnarok looked at his gun and started to recite a prayer to the griffonian gods. Two hundred of bat ponies – everything Luna could give him – were divided into the groups of forty, each commanded by one of his friends from the squadron. They were wearing no armour, except a flying suit. He heard that bat ponies relied on their dexterity more than the shield, but even for him it seemed insane. He, of course, was wearing his armour. It was still smelling of fresh paint, after he’d decided to get rid of the distinctive red and yellow plates colouring. Now his armour was navy blue, making him harder to spot on the sky. He left the battle saddle with cannons at the castle, knowing that they wouldn’t be useful in the indoor fight. Parasol, wearing a similar armour, was flying by his side. She refused to take a griffonian rifle, and was carrying an Equestrian submachine gun. She wasn’t supposed to take part in the fight, but as their opponents were to be amateurs, everything could happen. “We’re close,” Parasol said, pointing forward, at the town above them. They were flying only few feet above the ground, unseen by the Royal Guards, expecting them to attack from the above. When they reached Cloudsdale, they flew upwards, approaching it from the bottom. “There’s a passage between the clouds that allows to enter the lowest level of the Weather Factory,” Parasol’s voice from the briefing echoed in his ears. “The militia is guarding the factory, and if we manage to surprise them, everything will start to resemble a brothel on fire.” They found the passage and one by one, the first group of forty bat ponies started to crawl into it. The rest of them stayed below the town, waiting for the right moment to attack. Ragnar followed the infiltrating group, commanded by another of his compatriots, a light-blue griffoness called Pluen. “Sorry for the smell,” Parasol muttered. “Basically, these are sewers.” “You know, I grew up in a town like this,” Ragnarok said, checking his rifle for an umpteenth time. “I know how it works.” “Right… We are now directly below the factory…” She flew to the cloud above them and kicked it. It was one of the enforced clouds, used to build the foundations of Cloudsdale, but after few hits it fell apart. “Now silent…” he whispered. They all had headphones built into their helmets, so it wasn’t necessary to shout orders. “Halten sie die Klappe!” “We’re Merlyn bat ponies,” the pony next to him hissed. “Gau i fyny, and you can halt your Klappe yourself.” No respect for the authority… No wonder why this country looks like that, Ragnarok thought. Once we get more of the griffons here, we’ll show them what does order mean... The hall they were in wasn’t probably used for ages. Everything was covered in a layer of vapour debris coming from slowly evaporating clouds. Some rusty machinery was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a jungle of pipes and old wires. Suddenly, they heard wings flapping. Hidden in the darkness they saw a pegasus who landed on the hall’s floor. He looked around, stood on hind legs, resting himself against the machinery and started to urinate on it, humming some merry tune. Ragnar decided that it was enough, and took his pistol – it had a silencer, so he didn’t have to worry about the noise. The pegasus fell to the ground, not even having time to notice what hit him. The group began to advance forward. Ragnarok hid his pistol in a holster and took the assault rifle, using his wings to steady himself. “No need to be stealthy, I think,” Parasol whispered. “They like to pose as tough guys but they’ll probably run away in panic upon hearing a gunshot…” “Well, we’ll find out very soon,” he replied. “But you’d better stay here; this armour can withstand only a limited amount of hits.” Parasol nodded. They were in front of the large, closed gate. “You,” Pluen said to one of the bat ponies in her command. “Can you hear somepony there?” His large ears perked, trying to catch the echo of hoofsteps and voices. “About thirty,” he said after a while. “Some of them sleeping.” Pluen called another two of the bat ponies, who approached it and began planting explosives on the wickets. Ragnarok prepared the smoke grenades. “In three…” he whispered. “Two… one…” The gate exploded, falling apart. Ragnar darted forward, throwing the grenades into the hall, and began firing his assault rifle. Soon he was followed by Pluen, giving the griffonian war cry. Bat ponies, who didn’t need to see their enemies to sense their presence, moved forward. Despite Parasol’s reassurance, the pegasi fought back. Of course, some of them either got shot or fled, startled by the explosion, but soon they dived at the attacking group, firing blindly at them. Ragnar flew upwards and hid behind some machinery, hoping that a chunk of metal and wires would be bulletproof enough to protect him till the situation got clearer. Damn ponies and their war! Many of the volunteers protecting the factory were armed with the Sun Army rifles, which also happened to be the main weapon of Ragnarok’s bat-like allies, making it impossible to guess who was who. Distinctive sound of griffonian guns soon drowned in a thunder of gun fire. The smoke started to dissipate, he could see Pluen, unable to reload her gun, fighting with some pegasi with her bare claws. Many ponies were lying on the floor, either dead or wounded. He leaned from behind his concealment and shot a few rounds, killing one of the pegasi attacking his companion. A group of bat ponies was already flying to the roof, where the anti-aircraft guns were located, the rest of them chasing the remains of the detachment guarding the factory. Pluen gave out an ear-tearing shriek, stabbing another pegasus’ stomach with her knife. The remaining two darted upwards, allowing her to finally reload her rifle, while Ragnarok was shooting at them from behind the machinery till they disappeared, trying to join their comrades in some other part of the factory. Encased in a griffonian armour, Parasol emerged from the basement. Ragnarok saw her walking through the battlefield like some cruel griffonian goddess of war, not looking at the bodies of the fallen ponies. There were about fifteen of them, along with ten bat ponies, scattered around the room, blood soaking the clouds the floor was made of. Suddenly, somepony groaned. A pony stabbed by Pluen moved, his hoof on his stomach in a desperate attempt to keep his entrails inside. His other hoof was reached towards the yellow pegasus. “Parasol…” he whispered. “Help…” She stared at him, her eyes devoid of any shade of emotion. “I remember you,” she stated simply. “You didn’t help me when I was begging you to leave me…” she smiled, revealing her missing teeth. Ragnarok saw the dying pony freezing in horror. “Luckily for you, I’m much better pony than you’ll ever be…” Parasol said. In one swift motion, she took a revolver from the holster, pointed it at the pegasus’ temple and pulled the trigger. Ragnarok turned his gaze away, but felt some drops of the pony’s brain hitting his face. He shuddered. He remembered that Gilda used to poke fun at him for being “too delicate” to be a soldier. Well, Gilda was now as alive as the headless pegasus in front of him. His radio beeped. He took the communicator and said something quickly in Griffonian. Parasol looked at him. “The guards noticed our little party,” he said to Parasol. “They’re flying here. I told the rest of the bat ponies to attack them from behind.” “So, the battle begins…” Pluen muttered. Above them, the anti-aircraft artillery started to pump the endless stream of lead at the guards. They could easily differ the quick bursts from 20 and 40 mm cannons, and louder, deeper sound of the heavy guns. “Battle?” Ragnarok asked. “Rather massacre…”