//------------------------------// // 54 - The Darkness Stirs // Story: An Extended Holiday // by Commander_Pensword //------------------------------// Extended Holiday Ch 54: The Darkness Stirs Act 6 “... We need to talk.” The words echoed across the courtyard, carried away on the wind as the two friends eyed one another. For one, it had been but two and a half years since last they had met. For the other, it had been a lifetime. “I’m glad you agree,” Conor said, looking up at Pensword with an equally serious expression. Pensword maintained his stare. “Well, you have questions. I can see that. I have led enough troops to know that look:  trying to hide but still having doubts.” “Not doubts. Just concern.” Pensword looked around the courtyard. “Well, speak, and ask.” He looked back to Conor. “Because until we both get through these questions, we will be walking on eggshells.” He hit a hoof on the cloud, causing a small rumble of thunder to echo as it flashed white. “I will not have us maintain this stalemate any longer. I have lived through many a war and many a battle. There is little that could offend me.” “But there is much that frightens you,” Conor said as he looked up into his friend’s eyes. Icy blue meeting icy blue as the two icebergs collided. “Only one thing frightens me,” Pensword growled. “And that is what I did in the past.” He looked to Conor. “You heard us mention the Third Gryphon War. But there are details that I left out.” He paused for a moment before looking down at the cloud. “Do you know what I was called by the Gryphons?” “No. You didn’t really tell me much.” “They called me a demon.” He turned his head up as anger flashed in his eyes. “They called me that after they wiped my entire village out. I was in charge of Opposition Forces for the training command. Then one night ... one night,” He shuddered, broke off, and asked Conor another question. “Have you heard any of the Myths about Thestrals?” “No. I’m still pretty new to the area. Haven’t had much time to talk with Thestrals, let alone other ponies, with all the wedding preparations and you guys trying to make sure I’m kept safe. Most of them just keep their distance since I’m so far behind.” “Right. Quick lesson. More details to follow after,” Pensword said, reverting to his now familiar teacher’s voice. “Thestrals have three gifts from the moon. There are Dream Stalkers, who hold the power to enter and defend the dreams of their clans from Nightmares. There are those with the power to Dream Beyond. They have visions of future events. Then there is the third:  The Sight Beyond. Thestrals who bear this gift see and can talk to those that have passed beyond the grave.” Pensword shuddered, taking a deep breath as he braced himself. Then he began. “The night my village was destroyed I lived every single death in that town. I marched that very night to retake my home and I gave an order which I will never regret. No Survivors. Only one Gryphon lived past my judgement call and he almost died in my anger. Only by wearing the emblem of House Strike was his life preserved.” He stared at Conor, waiting for his response. “And you were afraid how I would react to this,” Conor said. “That’s what’s been bothering you for so long.” “Yes. When you called the Gryphon Empire the Third Reich you were very close to the truth. They hunted my people. My friends, my teachers, my family.” Tears stood in his eyes as the memories of their deaths danced before his vision once again. “And after they killed the town they ate them. They ate my family, my mayor, Baron Happy Hooves.” He growled. “Not just my village, but any ponies they found, any battles we were in that we could not secure the bodies.” The cloud rumbled ominously. “Half the cemeteries we set up for the dead have only token graves, bereft of their bones. How do you think we all felt knowing we could not bury our dead because we had no bodies to bury?” “The same way your family would have felt if you went to combat and fell in battle. I know that you want closure, Vulpix. That you need it. But beating yourself up over actions you can’t control isn’t going to help anyone, least of all you. You’ve been gnawing on this, letting it fester for ages because you couldn’t talk about it to anyone except maybe your wife. And I don’t even know if you’ve confided in her.” “She FOUGHT IN FILLYDELPHIA! OF COURSE I CONFIDE IN HER!” Pensword roared, lunging to his hooves as lightning struck the ground. “She and I confide in everything. She and I have the same Security Clearance even!” He took a moment to reign himself back in, breathing slowly in and out, his body seemingly deflating as he collapsed once more onto the cloud. “... I speak to my mother as well,” he said, his voice low and soft. He glared at the human, but then his anger turned to sadness. “Conor,” he began, “I am more scared of what you, and what my family will do when they learn what I did in the war than anything I have ever feared before. I know I did what was needed, but what will you, or they, think of me? Between the three of us, we are so feared that we were marks for assassination just a few months ago. Gryphons fear us still. And I do not blame them.” Pensword plopped his head on the cloud as he looked down on the human, his ears drooping as sorrow and guilt played across his eyes. Conor did not speak for some time. Even the silence seemed to be holding its breath. “... I’m no expert here, Vulpix,” he started out slowly, his head staring out into the space before him. “But I think the real fear here is what you think of yourself. I don’t like violence. I don’t like blood and gore. But I also know that war is never a clean cut thing. That’s one thing my dad taught me before I got sucked in here in the first place. I don’t have the right to judge you for your actions. Neither does anybody else. We weren’t there and we didn’t see it. I’m your friend for crying out loud!” He threw his hands in the air. “If you did what you did without any just provocation, then we’d have a problem. But if I still know you even the slightest bit then I know you did what you did out of a need for justice. You saved a peaceful kingdom from a life of slavery. And by the sound of things, you were able to help a lot of restless spirits find peace. You’re a saint and a soldier.” He looked up, his eyes a mixture of the coolness from before and the warmth of a brother who cares. “Now quit worrying about me viewing you like a freak and get down here so I can hug you,” he said primly. Pensword had kept still, listening to his friend’s words. Upon  Hearing that last remark he stood up and destroyed the cloud with a quick jab from his front hooves as he landed on the ground before his friend. He could not do anything else as Conor embraced him around the neck. “Thank you for proving my worst case scenario a false event,” he whispered. “There are few who I care about how they see me as.” He swallowed a little. “You are one of those few, Omni. Same as both my mothers, my fathers, and my family. I want to bring pride to their hearts, not fear or disgust. Thank you for quelling a little of that fear.” “You need to learn to let things out a little more, Vulpix. Bottling up like this isn’t good for anyone. Human, gryphon, dragon, diamond dog, or pony. Next time you got something on your mind, talk to me. I can’t guarantee I’ll have all the answers, but you’ll always have a listening ear.” “I shall keep that in mind. I do talk to my mom and dad still, and my sister and brother,”  Pensword replied as an ear twitched. “If you will excuse me, I think I hear Lunar Fang calling for me. I, I thank you for your time.” He moved. Or tried to. “Conor ... you can let go, you know… and .. are you patting me on the head? Are you trying to pet me?” “Well it’s not like I know how ponies usually comfort one another,” Conor said, blushing as he drew back. “You know though, I think I’d love to meet little Moon River now.” “Then follow me,” Pensword replied with a smile. “Well ... you might have to follow on the ground. I am going to fly ahead.” Shawn wandered the old dark hallways, the lower section of New Unity or something. He couldn’t tell. He sighed, placing his hand on his unlit torch once again, lighting back up. He had let the thing extinguish itself for a second time. The corridor seemed to go on forever. Both ways showed darkness that sapped the light of the torch. He stopped as his foot caught onto something, a sort of purple gelatinous substance. He frowned, having walked the whole way only to find something fairly pointless. While he would love to dirty his boots he chose to turn around and try again when he had some proper items with him to deal with this mess. Shawn sighed to himself once again. “Yet another waste of time.” He paused as his foot stuck to more of the purple substance. “I must have… missed it or something.” He moved the torch closer to the floor only to discover the substance had coated the floor entirely. There was no way he could have missed it before. He looked behind himself once again, but instead of a small puddle like before, a wall towered overhead, filling the space and cutting off access. His eyes opened wide as he realised what it was. It seeped through the cracks. He must have shifted some of the old stone and left room for it to pass through. Cursing to himself he pushed onward through the substance, hoping that it was unable to saturate through his boots via osmosis and cause harm. Keeping the torch in front of him he trudged through the slime, trying to get out of the mess he now found himself in. But it appeared that fate had something else in mind as he nearly ran into yet another wall of the mysterious substance. “Oh no.” He looked behind himself to find the other wall surging up behind him. He was trapped. Air escaped the cracks as the slime inched slowly towards him. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to think of something while he ignited his right hand. The blue glow added more light to the area. After a moment he moved his hand towards the slime in an attempt to burn it away. Perhaps it was flammable, whatever it was. At the very least, it should shrivel it up. His eyes shot open as a dark hand burst from the material and grabbed his wrist. He dropped the torch, which hissed on contact and disappeared with a loud “plop” as it sunk into the now knee level fluid. Looking down, Shawn realised the material was rising at a slow pace. Another hand grabbed his left wrist. Then another grabbed his leg, and yet another. The fire that he generated flickered and dimmed as the fluid raised to his stomach. The winds sounded like harsh whispers, getting louder and louder the less room he had. Soon enough his hand was under the substance, his fire dying with it. Screams filled the air as he tried to move. More hands held him in place. Soon enough he felt one grab his head, keeping him from budging so much as a single inch. It continued up to his neck, then over his mouth, his nose. The darkness seeped closer and closer, the cold causing him to shiver as the slime continued its agonizingly slow rise to his eyes. “Found you…” Shawn stood with a shout, knocking over his desk and chair as he stumbled backwards before tripping on said chair. He rolled over on the ground coughing violently into his hands as he tried to regulate his breath once again. The door burst open with a bang as Tower and Blast ran in. “Shawn!” “Lord Hammer Strike!” the two cried together. “Are you alright, sir?” Blast Shield asked as he moved to the coughing human’s side. “Do I need to get a medic?” Meanwhile, Tower put a hoof around the human’s arm and tried to help him up. “I’m fine.” He gave a few more coughs before placing his hand over his chest as he breathed. “I’m fine, just… Just a horrid dream…” “... You don’t dream, sir. You said so yourself. Are you sure you don’t want us to get someone? Maybe Zecora?” Blast asked. “I said I’m fine,” Shawn repeated, louder this time. “Leave me be,” he said, placing his other hand over his eyes. They felt so cold. Yet they burned. “Then … you don’t need us, sir?” Tower asked. “No. Now leave… Please…” “... Sir.” The two saluted, then left, both looking worriedly back as they passed through the door and closed it gently behind them. Shawn gasped once again as he moved his closed hand towards his face. After a tremulous moment he opened it to reveal a glistening black substance. “No …” New Unity was abuzz with activity. Ponies and gryphons spread out all over the area building, training, quarrying, performing masonry, and mining. Nopony took notice as a grey furred pegasus made his way into the fortress. Had they bothered to look more closely they may have picked up on the run down look of his fur, the thin, dead limpness of his mane and tail, or the fact that he was severely sleep deprived. Doctor Glyph Reader:  a well known archeologist-explorer who was considered one of the top minds in his field, that is, until he returned from his last expedition. He returned quieter, more distant from everypony he knew. Oftentimes he would be found mumbling darkly to himself as he skulked in the shadows. As the well learned pegasus stalked into New Unity he brushed a wing over his saddle bag and the priceless treasure it held within. He chuckled to himself. “Soon the dark lord shall return in smoke and shadow, and then he will rise. Then he will reward me. Yes,” Glyph Reader mumbled to himself as he stalked inside, one word consuming his every thought. Crystals! “Hello,” A cheerful Earth Pony mare called out with a smile. “Can I help you at all, sir?” She asked the Doctor as she set down a trowel she was using to help plant a small flower bed near the gates. The pegasus didn’t respond as he walked a little faster. The Earth Pony looked back, concerned momentarily, but finally shrugged and turned back to her work. It's not like the old pony could be a serious threat anyway. Grif smiled contentedly as he lay back in the warm sand, wings spread out comfortably. “One thousand years later and it’s still every bit as beautiful as I remember.” He smiled to Shrial. “Hard to believe huh?” “It’s even better now that we’re married,” she said, sighing in contentment as she gazed at her wedding band. “I’m glad the Zebricans were so obliging. They seem to have quite the soft spot for you.” “Considering the condition when we arrived? The gryphon may have been on Pensword’s list, but he was still a dirty scoundrel,” Grif said. “I'm just glad they remembered.” He looked at her. “This place has meaning for us. That makes this more enjoyable.” “Old ghosts laid to rest and a new life begun. All in this place. And now we’re doing it all over again.” Shrial smirked. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” “I am kinda worried about Hammer Strike and Pensword, though. Somehow when we're separated something bad always happens.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Then again, it seems to happen a lot when we're together too. But it’s nice just being the two of us.” “And you’d better get used to that. We have a good three months or so before that changes, or so you said. And I intend to make the most of it,” She said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s just me and you,” he said, reaching out and pulling her next to him. “No battles, no conspiracies, no marriages, just us. This has to be the first time in a long time I’ve been conscious and unarmed at the same time.” He laughed. “Mmmm. You know, I think I like you like this. We should take you to a remote island more often. Maybe then you and I could have a little more fun than what Society puts in front of us all the time.” She casually ran a talon down Grif’s cheek and underside, sending tingles shaking through his entire frame. “Votre souhait est mon commandement I vais donner ma démission et nous ne reviendrai jamais” Grif told her. “Cheeky,” Shrial said as she pounced the prone warrior. Grif smiled as he reached around to embrace her, planting a kiss on her beak. “You know you love it.” He smiled, kissing her again. The winds began to pick up and rain began to pelt them from the sky, but the two barely noticed as they embraced in each other's company, their passions elevating with the wind and the rain. Conor sat smiling as he watched Moon River scooting across the floor. Lunar Fang lay on the couch in the Commander’s suite watching with the loving expression only a mother can manage for her child. Pensword was in another part of the suite preparing their evening meal. Lunar Fang smiled as Moon River began to crawl towards Conor. “I hope you like Vampire Fruit Bat. Pensword makes a nice meal, though I taught him the recipe.” “And I couldn’t have been happier,” Pensword called out as he shook some herbs and spices onto the dead bat as he prepared it for the oven. “I’ve never tried it before. But I’ve never said no to new food, so I’ll be glad to try it out.” Conor smiled as Moon River drew nearer, her wide, inquisitive stare meeting his own amused gaze. “If somepony offers you a hayburger, refuse it. You couldn’t digest it as a human,” Pensword advised, calling from the kitchen. “Also, if she is going towards you, be careful. She might try to climb on your lap. Or your back.” “Is it alright if I pick her up?” “You can try,” Lunar Fang responded with a knowing smirk. “I do not know what she’ll do with you, but if she struggles, please put her back down.” “Of course.” Conor smiled as he reached down to the little foal. “Hiya, Moon River. You wanna come up on my lap?” he asked as the foal continued her steady advance. She cooed and giggled. From the doorway Pensword watched as he waited for the food to cook, wanting to see what his little Moon River would do with the human. He and Lunar Fang shared a knowing mischievous look. Conor knelt to the floor, bending down as he prepared to scoop the little foal up. “She’s so-” Just then, Moon River made her move as she pounced on the human’s head, giggling as she flailed her hooves in the air. “Gah!” Conor exclaimed, stumbling to his feet as he groped for something solid to hold on to. From the doorway Pensword snapped a photo with the crystal camera he had stashed nearby. He laughed at the situation, pointing to his friend as he collapsed into a fit of helpless giggles. Lunar Fang quickly got to her hooves and walked over to help steady Conor’s stance. “She likes tall places,” She said between chuckles. “She saw you walking and how tall you were. It was only a matter of time till she sought you out for a perch.” She opened one of her leathery wings. “We do have these for a reason, you know.” Moon River giggled but started to flail, falling backwards before pulling on Conor’s hair. He felt a prickling sensation as Moon River stopped falling backwards. Instead, she was holding on to a tuft of thicker hair on the back of his head. Conor’s head yanked back as he heard another snap of the camera before the sound of excited wing beats filled the air. “Moony!” Pensword crowed. “You can hold things. That is so awesome. Come on, come on, hold my hoof. You can do it.” The next few moments were spent watching Moon River transfer from Conor’s head to the Pensword’s back. Then he started flying around the ceiling. Moon River waved her fore hooves in the air while Lunar Fang snapped more photos. Conor rubbed the back of his head tenderly. “Ow …” “Excuse me, Lord Hammer Strike?” Twilight’s head poked into the door of his office curiously. “Yes?” Hammer questioned as he looked up from his papers. “I realize you're busy with repairing the fortress and all, but I was wondering if it would be possible for me to borrow a few of your crafts ponies for a, um … project I’m working on?” she asked with her nervous smile. “What are you trying to do behind my back?” Hammer asked in his flat tone. “Is it really that obvious?” Hammer Strike nodded. Twilight sighed. “I’ve come to realize that my friends and I, due to our position as element bearers, have been forced into situations in the past where combat experience would be helpful. And we've been seriously lacking. As a way to correct this oversight I’ve decided to start training in combat magic. However, in order to employ it effectively, I require a properly functional focus,” she explained, pulling a scroll from her saddlebags. “I’ve come up with a suitable design, but Ponyville crafts ponies don’t have much skill in making battle capable weapons.” “Twilight, I am offended,” Hammer Strike started. “You want to make a proper weapon and train with it, and you tried to do this behind my back?” “This isn't just smithing, Hammer Strike,” Twilight said. “This would involve heavy wood work, rune engravings, clothwork. Everything needs to be very specific.” “You act as though I haven’t done some of those things,” He joked. “You’ll still need someone to teach you to fight, too.” “I need to master the spells properly first. This magic isn`t something you just stumble into.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get everything well underhoof before I let it out.” “Stumble into…” Hammer started quietly. “You’re free to request help from whoever. Go on now.” “Thank you, Hammer Strike.” She bowed her head respectfully before turning to leave. Just before she left the room she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She stopped a moment to look back, but seeing nothing suspicious, left soon after. “Something you just stumble into…” Hammer chuckled darkly. “As if it was that easy.” Pensword smiled as he set down a tea kettle. “Do not worry,” he said as Conor eyed the kettle warily. “This is herbal. No caffeine. I know my friends.” He finished with a smile as Lunar Fang walked out using a wing cover to help carry a glass dish with the sauteed Vampire Fruit Bat. “Thanks, Vulpix,” Conor said, smiling. “You know how my mom is with the stuff. I’d rather not risk having the same reaction.” he paused, sniffing as the clouded dish was uncovered, filling the room with the scent of freshly cooked meat, herbs, and spices with just a hint of apple. His mouth began to water as his stomach rumbled. He chuckled. “Sorry about that. Guess all that running and working out is finally getting my body to burn some calories.” “Makes sense. We have been pushing you through your paces,” Pensword replied with a smile. “Happy one week in Equestria. And congratulations on surviving your first week in a modified boot camp,” He said cheerfully as Lunar Fang dished up a full bat for the human to eat. “Now it is polite to eat a little of the meat, but you do not have to eat the wingspan.” “Even if it tastes like Fruit leather,” Lunar Fang replied with a laugh. “I love fruit leather!” Conor said, his eyes growing wide with excitement. “Well, be careful. Different taste buds,” Pensword cautioned. “Still, If you wouldn’t mind?” he asked Conor as he folded his wings over his meal, Lunar Fang following suit. “Faust, we thank thee for this meal, as well as the protection granted upon us in our hunt. May you guide us this day, and every day. Thank you.” He raised his head, unfolded his wings from over the plate, and settled them to his side as Lunar Fang did the same. “Now, eat up.” he called out cheerfully. “You guys go ahead. I need to say my own prayer,” Conor said, smiling as he folded his arms and bowed his head. With eyes closed, he mouthed a brief blessing before closing and returning to his normal posture. “Let’s eat!” he said, smiling as he picked up the fork and knife beside the plate. Cutting into the carcase, he speared an apple chunk which had been ladled with the sauce and inserted it into his mouth. “Huh. I know this is going to sound clichè, but it tastes like chicken. Teriyaki to be precise.” Lunar Fang looked at Conor, confused, then turned her head to Pensword as he failed miserably to hold back the giggles. He quickly put his food down to prevent choking. Moments later he rolled on the floor laughing, his wings flailing as tears of mirth fell down his cheeks. “Come on, it’s not that funny, is it?” Conor asked, smirking despite himself as he watched his friend flail. Moon River giggled and cooed from her high chair, blowing raspberries in excitement as Lunar Fang held a hoof up to her muzzle to stifle her own giggles. He stroked his face and frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “I need a shave,” he said, looking more than a little worried. “Well,” Pensword began, finally getting his breathing under control. “Sorry, dear. Just, I have not had a laugh, well a good one anyways, in a long time.” “I can tell,” She replied with a smile. “I haven’t seen you laugh like that since before the Third Gryphon War.” She turned to look to Conor. “Thank you for that.” She smiled as she returned to her meal. Pensword looked to his friend. “Sorry, but unless you want to learn to shave with a knife we do not have many razors for humans. Besides, this is medieval Military. Beards are allowed. Did you know what killed the beard in Earth’s military?” he asked happily. “Enlighten me,” Conor said as he cut a portion of the bat’s wing and placed it in his mouth. The consistency reminded him more than a little of the crinkly skin on a roasted chicken blended with the leathery consistency of the treat Lunar Fang had mentioned earlier. “Mustard Gas. World War One,” Conor braced himself, smilng happily as Pensword launched into a lecture about the events leading up to the sudden change:  from Major Sideburn, from whom the term sideburns came from, to the development of the gas mask and the need for a seal around the face. The longer he talked the more animated he became and it did not help that his life mate egged him on. Or perhaps it did, just not in a way a civilian might like. “So, in conclusion,-” Pensword said. The main course was long gone now and they sat sipping cold, freshly squeezed lemonade with a plate of sugar cubes to suck on for dessert. “-The invention of World War weaponry finally caused the abandonment of beards, mustaches and facial hair that was more commonly found in the Wars of the previous millennium. All in a matter of a few simple years.” Pensword smiled as he pulled a stalk of sugarcane from a plate, peeled it, and began to chew. “Fascinating.” Conor chuckled. “Just like old times. It’s good to have you sounding like your old self again, Vulpix.” He put his hand to his head. “Wooh. What a mother,” he said, rubbing his temples and forehead. “Say, Vulpix, do the ponies here have Ibuprofen? I think I got a little too much sun today,” he said as he refilled his glass. “I shall see what the Doctors say. Most of the dosages are for, well, equines, obviously. But I think the doctors should have some notes for humans after their experiments with me.” He smiled a little. “Still, I can take you down to the medical hall if you want.” “Thanks. I still don’t have this place memorized yet,” Conor said as he ran a hand through his hair. “Very well.” Pensword got up and kissed Lunar Fang on the cheek, then her lips before turning to Conor. “Okay, just follow me. That reminds me. I need to get you a map of the castle.” Creeping like a ninja from place to place, a pink blur popped in and out between statues, opening old suits of armor to peek around, and leaving little pink dust clouds in her wake as her eyes darted from left to right. “I know he’s around here somewhere,” Pinkie Pie said as she continued her search. Her pinkie senses had been tingling for days now, but wherever she looked she could never find the new visitor. She tapped her hoof slowly against her chin as she tried to decide where to go. This pony was going to be a challenge. “Now just stay there,” Pensword said as he turned down the lamp by the bed. One of the nurses had applied a cold compress to Conor’s eyes as he lay down on the cot. Pensword shook his head. “If needed, I will stand watch. It is not fun seeing a friend suffer what appears to be a migraine,” he said, his voice low and soft. “Oy, tell me about it. I haven’t had one this bad since I was nine and watched TV and movies with a friend till late. He fell asleep before we even finished the last one. I had to walk home without saying goodbye. That night was the absolute worst night of my life.” “HI!” Pinkie Pie cried out as she popped up behind the human’s pillows. “I’m Pinkie Pie, what’s your name?” She gasped. “You’re a human? Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! No wonder my Pinkie Sense was having trouble! Ooooh, I’m gonna have to plan a special party for you. With streamers, and plays, and party favors, and lots and lots of chocolate chip cookies!” “Pinkie,” Pensword said, using the same warning tone Twilight used. “Please calm down. And lower your voice. Conor has a migraine. And while you’re welcome excitement is a joy to have in camp, it is making things worse here,” he said as Conor’s facial muscles twitched in pain. “Oh, that’s an easy one. Here, take this!” Pinkie Pie forced Conor’s mouth open as wide as it could go before stuffing it full of cupcake. Conor sat bolt upright, the cloth falling on his thighs as he started coughing and spluttering, pulling bits of the cake out of his mouth to make enough room. Once he’d spat enough out, he swallowed the rest with a very much audible gulp. “Okay, first of all, Pinkie, nice to meet you. Secondly, when dealing with humans, please remember we can’t hold as much in our mouths as ponies can. Third, why didn’t you say cake? You always say cake. And fourth … hey, that actually worked.” “Of course it worked, silly. It’s my own special recipe. With some seeeecret ingreeeeedients,” She said, waving her hooves. “Don’t worry though. It’s nothing bad for ponies, or humans. And to answer your other question, it’s cause they’re your favorite, of course. I’ll have to get some ice cream cake ready too. And maybe a few other sweets.” She gasped. “I can make a whole cookie-cake super duper extreme party extravaganza! All your favorites together!” “Gee, um … Thanks, I guess?” “No problem. Welp, I gotta go. I have another party to plan now on top of the partiest party ever for Hammer Strike and the Gryphon Slayers. Bye!” And with that, the pink blur was at it again, gone without a trace, leaving just a hint of cotton candy scent in the air to remember her by. “Well, now you have officially met Pinkie Pie,” Pensword said with a worn expression. “Worse than Riku on sugar,” he mumbled with a homesick look. He paused and looked up at the ceiling. “Please, nonononononononono,” He trailed off quickly. “I do not need Riku here. One Pinkie Pie is enough. We don’t need another.” Glyph Reader moved through the tunnels below New Unity slowly, casually stopping to check he was alone several times as passed through the shadows. The old pegasus mumbled darkly as he pulled out a red curved severed horn. “We are here, master,” he spoke to it in a quiet tone. “Good.” The deep, sonorous voice as smooth as the shadows through which they walked responded, chuckling darkly. “Leave me in this place upon a pillar of rocks. I will soak in the corruption that those fools brought back with them.” He chuckled again. “To think the very beings responsible for my fall shall be the unwitting harbingers of my return. How … delicious.” The red horn began to pulse, glowing steadily the deeper Glyph Reader carried it. “Master, they speak of the bird. He lives here. The one who swore to hunt you. Is this truly safe?” Glyph Reader asked. “They also speak of him being away to celebrate his bonds of marriage,” The voice snapped back. “Remember your place.” “Y-y-yes, Master.” Glyph Reader trembled. “We have time,” Sombra rumbled with his silky voice. “By the time that savage returns either we shall have left this place to gather strength, or better yet,  that foolish oaf of a pony lord shall become my new viceroy, and thou my prophet.” “Of course, master. I live to do your will,” the pony said, his eyes glowing green and purple as he approached a broken stone pillar. “Horn born of the darkest lord, he who is of shadow and mist, be shrouded from your enemy and be hidden from prying eyes until the Dark Return doth come. Then we shall begin your rise.” Dark magic swirled around the pillar as the pegasus placed the horn in one of the cracks. To the naked eye, the damage sealed, hiding it from the world. “Feast well, my master,” Glyph Reader said as he cackled, his voice amplifying and carrying through the halls as he ran toward the light, escalating to a maniacal laugh. “Soon, Daring Do. Soon.” Meanwhile Pensword walked slowly out of the medical wing. The doctors had decided to hold Conor overnight for observation, despite protests from both patient and friend. Before he’d known it he was being shooed out of the wing by the Pegasus Nurse. “I can not believe they just kicked me out.” He shook his head before pausing in his steps. His left ear flicked. Was that … laughter? He shook his head. “Nah. too faint,” he said under his breath. He waited a moment longer, straining his ears just to be on the safe side. Not hearing anything else, he nodded in satisfaction before walking back towards his suite and life mate. Turning the corner he bumped into a Pony coming from another lower section of the castle. “Omphf,” he explained as he stepped back in surprise. “Excuse me.” He paused as he eyed the Grey furred Pegasus. “Do I know you?” “Uh, Doctor Glyph Reader. Of the Equestrian Historical Society. I was sent to look over the lower levels for possible artifacts,” the pegasus said as convincingly as he could. He dropped his head down nervously. “Well, the only thing down there last I checked were bobby traps and some prank organ,” he muttered. “Still, this is New Unity. The lower levels are open, I guess. Just remember to check in with Old Tome for your visitor pass, okay? Entry is restricted in some areas to non-.” he paused as he moved a wing to his satchel. Glyph Reader immediately flinched. “I am not some Daring Do novel,” Pensword said as he pulled out a visitor’s pass. Conor didn’t need it anymore since his official clearance badge would be arriving in the morning. “Actually, you can have this one. I’ll tell the guards the number was reassigned. Have a good night, and do try to stay warm. The lower levels are damp and one can catch a nasty cold if one remains down there for too long.” “Thank you.” The doctor took the pass politely. “I must get my tools and return to my explorations,” he said suddenly. “Goodbye!” And with that, Glyph Reader was off and running. Pensword almost called out after him, but shook his head. “Another time, another place, and I may very well have been like him, so caught up in my work…” He trailed off. “MESS HALL OPENS AT ZERO SIX HUNDRED AND CLOSES AT TWENTY THREE HUNDRED HOURS!” He yelled, hoping the doctor would hear. He smiled as he climbed the stone stairs up to his suite. “College all over again:  working and then realizing you are hungry after the dorm food places close and need to walk halfway across campus for something,” he mumbled to himself. Pensword paused as he saw a Thestral at his side walking with him. “Hello, little brother,” he said. “Hey Big brother,” he replied looking grim. “Just to let you know, I have to be cryptic here, but you just did something Faust needed done.” Pensword froze out of pure shock. After a few moments he recovered and started walking again. “I do not know if I should be happy or worried by that. Still, thank you for the heads up. Happy to know I am still on the right path to be with my family when my time is up.” He looked to the top of the stairs to a very confused looking Lunar Fang. “I got this cupcake sitting on your desk. Pinkie Pie left it to you for an apology,” she said, holding the treat. “Well, thank Faust she is an Element Holder and on our side. Can you imagine her being a spy against us?” He smiled and Lunar Fang joined in. “Come on. I could use a little snuggle before bed.” In response Lunar Fang wrapped a wing around his back and pulled him closer before kissing his nose. “That sounds absolutely lovely.” The Next day while Conor was working on his run with Rook, Pensword was walking and actually taking time to tour the field of flags. He continued through the rows before pausing and bowing his head before two forlorn tattered flags. “House Hooves,” he mumbled sadly. Upon the flag four golden horse shoes shone weakly one in each corner of the flag with a green background. The flag next to it was the town flag:  a simple blue flag with a green mountain range you could see from the town hall looking west. A white waterfall cascaded down the middle of the range. He looked up as his ears swiveled upon hearing a sound. He moved a hoof slowly to allow a quick turn if need be. “Excuse me, Commander.” A voice spoke behind him. Pensword slowly turned around to face the speaker. “Yes? Are you needing something?” A large rusty red gryphon covered in scars and missing a left eye stood at attention. “Grif wanted this gift delivered to you as soon as it was done,” he said, presenting a spear bearing a black banner with an elegant red trim. Grif’s symbol stood at the very center with rose vines growing around it blooming in three different colors:  orange, white, and yellow. At the top of the vine the image of a large avian perched. It was an elegant bird not unlike a phoenix. But the way the eyes burned seemed to hint at a sentience far beyond that of the fire birds. It's feathers had been painstakingly created from every possible color of thread available. The words “Dans la paix, Vigilance, dans la guerre, la victoire, dans la mort, Sacrafice” shone in emerald green lettering. Pensword looked at the Gryphon presenting the item. He gave a small smile as he took the spear bearing the banner. “May I know the meaning behind the symbols of the Glyphs?” he asked. He could actually read and understand the Phrench, at least enough to get the general meaning. “In Peace Vigilance, in Peace Victory, In death Sacrifice.” He read the words aloud. He looked to the Gryphon with a confused expression. “Grif wished that you should receive the first coat of arms for your… gallery,” the gryphon said. “The words are the house's new code. He said the roses were to represent traits he hoped we would achieve, though he didn`t explain their direct meaning. And this…” he pointed to the bird “Is the bird of paradise, the wings of beauty born of winds of love itself. she cherishes life and will only fight to defend it.” Pensword nodded his head as he looked to the flag. “Would ... may I display this in my office? This is not a flag of conquest, but of a friend, and an ally.” He paused as he looked around. Then he smiled as his mind latched upon an idea. He began to walk to front of the Courtyard. What had begun as a simple storage of flags to cow the Gryphons and inspire the new recruits had transformed in his mind’s eye. He walked to the Front and planted the spear and flag into the ground for display. “This will be the rows of allies and friends of House Strike, and of Equestria.” Pensword looked excited as he spoke to the Gryphon. “The top shall be covered in clear glass while the ground shall be planted with fresh green grass. Gravel walkways will spread here, here, and over there, weaving through the rows. And over there-” he pointed to a half crumbled wall “- will be a sign talking about each one of these flags, the history, and why it is on display. In this area-” he moved to the walls they were facing. “-they will have benches for resting and reflecting.” Pensword cantered like an excited foal. “And here, the first thing that any being sees, will be the Flag of Equestria.” He broke off into sudden silence as he realized that only the Gryphon was listening. “Well?” he asked. “What do you think? Can you not see it? A place for pride, a place to also teach and not forget the past?” He lowered a hoof realizing that maybe the Gryphon would not like the idea. After all, the field would be displaying the captured colors of his ancestors. A thousand years had passed and it might be best to actually return the flags. He didn’t know what to think as he lapsed into pensive thought. The silence weighed heavily as the gryphon’s eyes were drawn across the area to a torn piece of cloth displaying a black tipped feather. The background stood out with a vibrant blood red. The look on his face was angry, hateful even. He spat in the direction of the disheveled flag. “That should be burned. Those kind have no business being remembered.” Pensword looked to the flag and he shook his head. “No, The flag needs to be displayed.” He stepped forward. “That flag represented something completely unacceptable.” He glared at the emblem of the black tips. “These two flags are to show a history that cannot be forgotten.” He moved to touch the flag with the black tip on it. “This flag was captured when I smashed the Gryphons in Mountainside Falls. They were flying it from the burned ruins of the schoolhouse.” His voice trembling with anger. “I personally tore that flag from its place.” He turned to looked now at the Gryphon. “That is why the flags remain. To tell the history by their presence. So the next generation will know why-” he moved a wing to point to the two of them. “-we-” he pointed to the flag, “- despise that thing.” “They destroyed my grandfather,” the gryphon said. “He spoke against the king's taxes and they killed him and my father and forced the rest of us out.” Pensword did not turn around. “They killed every single pony in my village while I was trained for the Military.” He growled, not taking his eyes off the two flags. His wings sagged a little. “I am sorry to hear about your grandfather, and your family's fate. Tell me, what do you plan to do now that you wear the badge of the Bladefeather Clan?” “Give it some meaning. I’ve heard many politicians talk. Clan leaders claim they wish to help. I don't know if your Grif is capable of what he says, but he is honest, and I could find a worse clan leader to serve.” Pensword turned and stared at the Gryphon, even taking to the air to look him in the eye. “When Grif says he is going to do something, it would take a direct order from myself, Lord Hammer Strike, or his current wife, Shiral, to make him even pause in that pursuit. And no, I did not forget Princess Celestia.” He took a deep slow breath. “So he wants to achieve something, then I hope you are with him, because he will get what he wants in the end.” Pensword landed on the ground. And although it made him smaller than the Gryphon, he continued to eye the gryphon grimly. “I know this because I saw it in the Third Gryphon War. I would, and have, trusted him with my life.” “I only meant that he’s mortal,” the gryphon said. “He could be brought down like any of us if he’s not careful. For a thousand year old ghost story he is still young and there is alot about the world to learn yet.” The gryphon tapped his eye patch. “Sometimes life reminds us the hard way.” Pensword looked towards the entrance way. He knew given time they would make it a little more grand than the hole it was now. “Yes? So what? We both lived through the Third Gryphon War. He survived a full on encounter with your magic users, and finally, he hunted down and survived behind enemy lines to fulfill a promise. He may be young, but I think he can and will succeed. Have more faith in your clan leader.” “They aren't my magic users,” the gryphon returned. “I haven’t called the empire home in over a century. And I wouldn't if I could.” Pensword looked back at the flags. “‘Your,’ as in the species.” He sighed deciding to give up on the argument. “Still,” He paused as he realized he was actually talking casually to a gryphon, “You are the first adult Gryphon I have actually talked to without feeling the need to be on my guard. Nor be ready to attack.” “You think every child crawls under their covers and hides from the monster beneath them?” the gryphon asked. “Equestria needs a better defensive strategy. And you, Commander, are giving them that. I've lived too long to follow by what some stuck up oaf whose ancestor died because we lost a war says about you. Up until a few months ago hunger or infection was far more likely to kill us then a Thestral from myths and horror stories.” Pensword looked to the Gryphon raising a wing without thinking before lowering it. “... Thank you?” he asked wondering if he just got a compliment before he realized something else. “What, do the Gryphons see me as?” He asked as he moved to begin walking around the Gryphon. “You see, I cannot seem to find very many articles about Current Gryphons opinions about ponies outside of Grif, and the few that seem to still see Hammer Strike as Celestia’s attack ghost.” He smiled as he continued his circling. “Still, you have a smart head on your shoulders, knowing what parts of the past to keep and what others to let go.” “If you are asking about the empire, you're a ghost story to them. Something they’d like to believe never happened and press into the depths of myth and legend. If you mean around us, we don't have enough information to decide. Grif trusts you and that's what we have to go with.” Pensword frowned. “Very well.” Pensword shifted to a smile as he came around to the front. “Then I have a clean slate.” He held out a hoof. “I am Commander Moonkissed Pensword Hurricane, High Duke of the City of Filly de Y.” “Rusty Bladefeather,” the gryphon responded. “A Pleasure to meet you, Rusty.” He found his hoof taken by the taloned hand of the Gryphon. “I had a friend a long time ago who went by that name. He was a good friend. I am happy to see someone as honorable as you carries it still.” He smiled wider then frowned as a bell tolled. “I am sorry, but I must be about my rounds. I would like to talk to you and Grif when he returns. I think I have something...” he trailed off, not realizing it as he walked towards the hole in the wall. “Fly well,” the gryphon said before he himself turned to leave. As he did so a light breeze flew through the courtyard causing the flags to flutter. For a moment Rusty could see what Pensword had yammered about as the fragments pieced themselves together to form a beautiful image from the power, majesty, and tragedy that was history. Yet it was but a fleeting moment. And as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. “Perhaps the ghost can one day be made flesh,” he muttered as he walked away. The Badlands, located across the Macintosh Mountains:  a place that is far harsher than the deserts surrounding Appleloosa. Here Queen Chrysalis and her hive had been banished by the combined love spell of Princess Cadence and her husband, Shining Armor. After their landing, the hive had spent the time rebuilding, creating changeling structures rising over the flat land. They had landed in a box canyon, a canyon that was literally shaped like a box. The only way in was either by flying or climbing up and over the natural walls. The Queen’s domain lay tall and majestic in a strange creepy manner of speaking while dark specks crawled around it and many other cone shaped structures that lay scattered around the space. Inside the Queen’s domain, cocoons hung from sandstone stalactites, filled with the sleeping forms of many of the Badland creatures as they were drained of their emotions and some of their form used to feed the colony. Droplets of moisture dropped from above misced with the roots of Cacti and tumbleweed. Queen Chrysalis sat upon her emergency throne, a mixture of sandstone and quartzite carefully carved, as a group of her warrior changelings walked in bearing poles with new cocoons. The other cocoons glowed a sickly green, casting a pall across the visage of the five Unicorns trapped within. The Warriors were wearing the captured armor of Celestia’s solar guard, which darkened in the makeshift cavern’s false light. “Tell me, do we have enough love to strike yet?” Chrysalis asked the praetorian guard next to her. “No, my Queen. Scouts are searching far and wide for more creatures to trap and bring back.” The Praetorian replied as the workers began to raise the cocoons to sit in her chamber. “However, some scouts have stated they found a city where small feline creatures found them and showered them with love. The scout suggests that we enslave them and bring them back here so we can drink their love while creating a second class citizenry. We would be a wealthy hive, the envy of the other hives to the south when they learn of our conquests.” “They were totally oblivious to this scouts’ purposes?” she asked “More like they didn’t care. One got so greedy he fed in front of them and they still showered the scouting party with love. Even I am baffled as to what they could see us as. Though the scout does suggest we use all changelings to move their buildings to the Box Canyon. They have a castle already built that could become your Queen Chamber.” Chrysalis smiled “Then begin preparations immediately. The sooner we have enough love to hasten our attack the better. I will prove once and for all that… thing is not undying,” chrysalis said as her hoof shifted to cradle the broken crest on her head. “As you command, my Queen. I shall gather all the warriors and we shall enslave the town. At which point we shall begin moving the castle back here and try to recreate the living space for our new hivelings.” “And what of our daughter?” the queen asked. “She is doing well. She is currently located in the Nursery learning the importance of shapeshifting.” His eyes crossed suddenly as he stumbled briefly. Chrysalis laughed at the look as she felt it too. “She also has learned how to use the link to exert a little control over others, as she just did for my tattling on her.” “And have our scouts been able to locate the hive of this queen who has supposedly allied with our enemy?” she asked. “Not so far, my Queen. However, we feel it must be near where those who fought against the hive are currently staying. They have to move slowly and carefully. Though there have been reports of strange mental feelings and urges. Whatever is happening, it is nothing any Changeling has experienced before. I have been needing to rotate them since we lost one agent due to…” he shuffled his hoof. “The term would be Equestrian in origin, but ‘defected’ to this rival queen’s hive. We have not yet figured out how she was able to subvert your link on all Changelings.” He paused as he eyed Chrysalis holding her crest again. “We will find enough love to heal your crown, my queen, rest assured.” He looked to where a Manticore lay cocooned and slated to become physical food along with emotional food after attacking their Hive and then the Queen after clawing its way into the canyon for easy prey. It had managed to break Chrysalis’ crown before she laid him low. Nopony but she could hurt her underlings. “We must find her if we are to be successful,” she said. “I want nothing left out this time. Remember the mistakes of your predecessor.” “Of course, my queen.” The Praetorian responded with another low bow. “What are we to do if we do find her? She surely has started a hive, and if she is allied with Ponies, she could be harvesting more love from more sources. How do you wish us to proceed against another Queen? Assimilation of her Hive, or annihilation?” “We must know our enemy before we can plan,” Chrysalis said. “For now we shall be patient.” “Very well. I shall be rotating scouts with these new orders, learn all they can about any and all means of defense and attack in the region, as well as forceful interrogation of lone Changelings they find to know about this new hive.” “Very well, Praetorian, you may go.” She nodded. “keep up the good work and I may find room for a new drone.” “As you wish, my Queen,” the Praetorian responded as he slowly walked away from her raised throne down the makeshift carpet of glowing green moss and slime. The beach lay balmy and broken in the heat of the day. Sand was disturbed. Water pooled in random places. A tree lay broken in half less than 20 feet away. These were the first things Grif saw when he opened his eyes. The sand rubbed irritatingly into his fur and feathers, but he could only smile wide as he looked at the sleeping figure that lay across from him, the memories of the night echoing in his still foggy mind. The pair hadn't even been aware of the typhoon in the background in their passion. Grif just lay there wishing the perfect moment to last for eternity when the wind shifted. A chill blew in from the south sending a shiver through him, but it seemed to carry a melody unlike any birdsong the gryphon had heard before. It was deep and sweet, irresistible and haunting at the same time. Grif wanted to flee from it and run towards it all at once. He shook Shrial gently with a claw. The gryphoness slowly stirred, blinking open her eyes to behold her lover. She smiled. “Well hello there, stranger.” “You hear that?” Grif said as he moved to get up. The wind blew again carrying the same ghostly tune. “... What is it?” She asked, turning her ear to face it. “I don't know, but something is telling me we should take a look.” “By boat or by flight?” “Go and secure a cloud. It seems safer to fly, but we should keep something to land on just in case,” Grif said. Nodding, Shrial did so, immediately taking off into the blue sky. She returned about ten minutes later holding an adequate, if not quite perfect, cloud. “Sorry it took so long. That storm cleared out most of the clouds in the area. I had to gather wisps.” “It’s enough,” Grif said, taking to the air. The two pushed the cloud south, flying at a slow pace. In about a quarter of an hour they began to notice a large mass of cloud swirling on the horizon:  a pillar that went as high as the eye could see. Sea birds of different types entered and left the pillar, eerily silent the whole while as the haunting melody echoed amongst the cloud. “It looks like it's inside.” “Whatever it is,” Shrial said. Grif accelerated to reach the cloud mass first. He walked inside a small hole in the cloud mass. By the time Shrial reached the edge he walked back out looking shaken. “It can't be,” he mumbled as he looked in her eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong, Grif?” Shrial asked, worried for her husband’s state of mind. Grif took her claws in his own and led her in. The pillar was completely hollow inside, filled with numerous perches where all types of birds roosted. In the center, forged from pure cloud, was a large confusing looking instrument that sounded and hummed and trumpeted in the wind, creating the strange, yet beautiful music. A massive bird roosted on top of it. Its body was slim and regal like a phoenix, but it shone gloriously with lights from every color imaginable and some Shrial could not even name. Seven large crested feathers grew from her head and stretched all the way down to her tail. Her beak was short and pointed like a songbird's and every time she opened her mouth a melody escaped that made Shrial feel positively everything at once. “By the winds of the ancestors,” Shrial whispered, not daring to startle such a creature. “Is that-?” “The divine child of the south wind,” Grif said. “The bird of paradise, the original phoenix, one of the closest things Gryphonkind would have to an actual god.” “But … what is she doing here?” Shrial asked. “In the middle of the ocean, no less.” One could not very well fly over the island, the voice was there and yet not there. it wasn't something heard, but something the two gryphons felt inside them. That would cause quite a scene. Shrial let out a startled squawk, then regained her composure. “Forgive me, but I know not what to call you, let alone how to address you,” Shrial said, bowing her head as she became painfully aware of the sand and clumps of earth in her feathers and fur. Call me that which you desire, Shrial Bloodfeather. You may call me mother as you haven't called another before. Do not shrink back, for I do not judge you. It was your love that allowed me to summon the two of you. “And why would you summon us?” Grif asked her. Why, Avatar, surely you did not believe that just because you possessed the weapons you were truly ready to shoulder your title. To be the true avatar of winds you must learn the secrets hidden with the winds. “Does this mean that you intend to teach him, … Mother?” The word felt strange for her to utter, but right somehow. I will teach him the secrets that are beholden to me. But I am only the child of the south wind. You must also learn from the children of the other winds, she explained. It was the love between the two of you that allowed me to come as close to you as I have. There is no power as divine as love. It is the key to power beyond your limitations. And when you love, then benevolence is most with you. Grif looked to Shrial then shook his head before looking to the bird. “I promised Shrial that this would be our time, untouched by war and combat and magic. I will not break that promise.” “Grif, this is more important than just us. If what Mother says is true, then you need to learn from her. She may not be able to come so close to us again. We can spend time together in the evenings. And I will gladly watch you train. But if this is part of your destiny, you must fly towards it, as you always have. I’ll be right by your side.” She rubbed against him, smiling encouragingly. He placed a claw on her beak for a moment “Remember, I would turn away all the power in the world for you. Don`t tell me to do this unless you are sure in your heart this is what you want.” “... I want you, love. I can’t lie about that.” A tear streamed down her cheek. “Is it wrong of me to have such selfish feelings?” She asked. Love is never wrong, the Bird of Paradise chimed in. “Then what are we to do?” Shrial asked. I cannot offer you the time you would lose, the bird said. But perhaps a trade. The bird shifted and in a movement that seemed to startle every pair of wings in the room, snipped one of the beautiful feathers of her crest and laid it gently at Shrial’s feet. “Why--?” Shrial asked. Because your time together is priceless and I must request it. Mortals cannot get time back. Therefore, I offer something which I cannot get back in exchange. Grif stood stunned, looking at the crested feather before them. It had to be over six feet long and almost seemed fluid in the light. He looked to Shrial, quietly picking the feather up. Then he presented it to her with some reverence, “Take it.” Shrial did so carefully. It felt light as a cloud and filled her with a sense of abiding peace and love so pure, so kind, she fell to her knees. “It is … truly a priceless gift.” Grif turned to the bird and took a step forward before bowing respectfully. “Teach me.” Conor grunted as he pushed with all the strength he could muster, his frame quaking as he struggled to get just one more in. He had to be stronger if he was going to survive. And after the last couple of weeks, it had grown easier to manage the exercises. He was almost to the point where the rest of the guards were now. As he finished the last of the rep, he gradually let himself down, smiling at what his hard work had earned him. His new work out clothing was coated with sweat, but at least he had been improving. Not only that, but his pudge had diminished considerably as hard muscle continued to form and develop underneath, eating away at his fat. “Phew,” he said, continuing to smile. “That was a rough one.” “It well get rougher,” one of the other ponies noted, not stopping. “You're still not up to Grif’s full regimen.” “I will get there, though. That’s the main thing. And until I do, I won’t give up. Thanks for the support, by the way. I really appreciate being able to do this with a team. It makes things easier.” “Taze says that if we're supposed to be a muscle for equestria all the fibers need to pull and push as one or else all you get is bloody tears and weak tissue,” a pegasus mare said. “He doesn't forgive himself a single hoof step off of ours.” “And I won’t either when I’m finally strong enough. For now, I’m doing the best that I can, but I know my body’s limits. If I push myself much further I know I’ll have an asthma attack. Honestly, I can’t believe I’ve made this much progress in so short a time. My metabolism was never this fast back home.” Conor took a swig from a canteen he had over on the side as he rubbed his temples and massaged his forehead. “... Stupid headache’s back again,” he muttered. “Are headaches normal for you?” Rook asked him cautiously. “Not usually. Most of the time humans only get them after straining their eyes too long or possibly from dehydration. My prescription should still be up to snuff for my glasses, so I doubt that’s the cause,” he sighed. “It’s probably nothing. I just need to drink lots of water. And maybe get another one of those cupcakes Pinkie gave me. That remedy actually worked.” “That Pinke is either a genius or the most insane pony I've ever met, but she isn't dangerous, so I see why Ponyville trusts her,” Rook said. “By the way, thanks for staying with me and being patient with how slow I am, Rook. I really do appreciate it.” Conor winced again as he rubbed. “Come on, come on already.” “You go and lay down. Maybe put some ice on that. I wouldn't want to get on Grif`s bad side cause I pushed you too hard.” Conor shook his head. “It’s not you, Rook. I promise. I don’t know what it is, truth be told.” he sighed. “... It’s sort of been going on all week.” “Perhaps it's time to visit the doctor,” Rook said. “Only if it’s after today’s training. I already told the other ponies. I’m not going to wuss out on my responsibilities.” His face grew hard and determined. “What’s next?” “You. Doctor’s office. Now.” “With all due respect, not till after training, sir.” “Bruiser,” Rook called out. A solid grey earth pony moved out of the training group. This earth pony was only a hand smaller than Big Mac, but every step made the muscles under his coat more obvious. “Help Conor here to the doctors office,” he ordered. The earth pony nodded walking up to the human and in one motion ducked down and darted under him between his legs. Then he stood up straight, lifting the human’s feet off the ground. Without a word he headed off, the human shouting back the whole way as he tried to get off. “I’ll get you for this, Roo-woah!” Pensword smiled as he looked up and quickly took to the air as he flew towards two growing shapes. “Grif!” He called as he dipped below a Gryphon, tripping him up as he carried practice equipment that had recently been polished. He cursed as Pensword flew past. “Sorry!” he cried as he banked to the left, rushing to meet his friends. “Shrial!” He called out again. “You are a sight for worried eyes.” “Well you're still in one piece. That’s a good start.” Grif laughed. “Yeah, I am happy I am in one piece. There was no massive civil war between Gryphon Slayers and Bladfeathers. Your flag got finished and it triggered an idea for me. You might like where it is being displayed and the map the architects drew up for the courtyard.” He smiled. “Also, I am starting to get used to the Gryphons,” he said as he quickly took a position to Grif’s left. He frowned then. “However, I am getting worried. Conor’s back in the medical center. His headaches have returned. The doctors are running some tests, but he may need to be transferred to the hospital at Ponyville. The Mane Six are out of town so I cannot get one of Pinkie’s Cureall Cupcakes, as I call them for my own mental sanity. And Shawn, well, the last two days he has shut himself in his room.” “He'll come out when he needs to eat.” Grif laughed as he landed, looking back to Shrial. She clung to the strap around her torso holding what looked like a gigantic razor-thin sheath as she looked back to her mate. The two knew only too well the precious treasure that lay within. “Shawn will be fine, Pensword. He always is. Come. Grif has some things to show you, and we both have quite the tale to tell.” Pensword landed next to his friend and realized for what felt like the first time how much smaller he was compared to Grif. “Oh? Well, is it something that needs the security of my office or something?” He asked. “Not all of it.” Grif smiled, lifting a talon. The air seemed to dance around his hand before moving through the the intervening space to coil gently around Pensword, then dissipate itself. Pensword stared in awe at the sight he was seeing, or perhaps not seeing. Were it not for the specks of dirt that trailed with the wind, he would have perceived nothing. “What, that, What did I just feel?” he asked in awe. “That answer is something I'd need to tell you about in your office,” Grif said. “We had a run in with someone that we can't exactly talk about with alot of open ears.” “Very well, let us retire to my office-” Pensword spoke Pensword was cut off as the most horrific and painful scream they had ever heard echoed throughout New Unity. A scream that had never before been heard, yet at least seven individuals would recognize. “Shawn!” They cried together.