//------------------------------// // Winds Of Change: Old // Story: Shine Of The Silver Sun // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// Manehattan, the biggest city in all Equestria. A forest of shiny skyscrapers reaching to the sky everywhere the eye can see. Further away from the bustling business center of the metropolis lay the residential areas, warehouses and factory districts, but also the gated communities and mansions of nobles who still wanted to be seen as a part of the cosmopolitan life and yet enjoy the relative privacy and peace the outskirts had to offer. One such white, three-story mansion was breaking the rule however. In contrast with all the others residences of nobility, the spread lawns surrounding the building were filled with ponies in states of exhaustion from merely sweating rivers to gasping for breath while collapsed on the well-maintained grass. With armored ponies forming some semblance of ranks even while barely standing and several figures walking around and observing them, the place looked more like an guard bootcamp rather than the house of a highborne. Which is what it was. Over a year ago, the princesses had raised a certain earthpony into the status of a baron and granted him the property and resources belonging to a family stripped of their possessions for high treason, but that is a different story. These days the white lively mansion served as the headquarters of an organization called the Order of the Silver Sun, a reincarnation of a unification movement from days of princess Luna's banishment to the moon. Partially funded by the government, the place offered practical training to anypony, no matter species or social status, which was widely accepted by all sorts of military or guard forces all over Equestria and Crystal Empire. Well, the 'efficient bashing over the head' part of the education, not the 'unimportant legal stuff you have to do before or after the bashing' part. All in all, after several months of harsh training with the Order, the prospective guards, soldiers, militia or police ponies were in such shape to be sought after even by elite Royal Guard branches in Canterlot and other big cities. That, however, was only the official part of the Order's business, the one that paid the bills and allowed the Order members to gain information from all ranks of society. The unofficial part lay in the wish of the new Order's founder to provide training to those willing to put everything on the line in order to protect normal ponies from divine, magical, or other unnatural threats beyond the reach of the police or the Royal Guard. Sadly, from the original members of the new Order only few remained, and those had to deal with both the normal recruits and the currently nonexistent special ones. In an office on the second floor of the mansion, a pure white griffon was sitting in an armchair, reading a newspaper with a weary look in his bright green eyes. The office was nothing special, shelves full of binders here, comfortable furniture for long hours of work there. The only thing out of ordinary was a square section of wooden inlay on a wall with multiple framed photos. There were several motives and different ponies in them, but the most common individuals were the sitting griffon himself, a red-maned, red-eyed batpony mare with black coat who would look like a textbook villain were it not for her friendly and mischievous smile, and a bronze-coated alicorn with blue eyes and blonde mane, tired but content look on his face. A picture of the three of them hugging and posing for the camera dominated the center of the space for what had to be memories. In direct opposition to his self in the pictures, the real griffon was nowhere even close to a smile. What did remain, however, was his astonishing physique combining the godlike proportions of an antique statue with the kind of roguish charm that made mares swoon at the first playful wink. The griffon's name was Cromach, and he was currently the head of the entire Order, being one of the few survivors of a deadly incident which had been the new Order's first assignment. A double-headed battleaxe leaning against the wall behind him only confirmed what his well-built and toned body hinted at - this griffon wasn't and never would be some kind of office worker. Knocking on the door made Cromach raise his eyes from the newspaper headline reading 'Hospital morgue broken into. Bodies nowhere to be found'. "Yes?" Cromach's disinterested voice was deep, but not overly so, giving away what the world-weary look was hiding - the griffon was at most in his late twenties. "Burying yourself in work again, sir?" The direct question came from a unicorn mare entering the office. Several things about her would make anypony observant certain of two things - she was young, maybe little over twenty, and she had gone through the same harsh test of life as the griffon sitting behind his desk. Her mane was white, straight, and cut in the impractical way of a unicorn thinking barbers were an unnecessary luxury. The unicorn mare's name was Contradiction, and it reflected in everything about her. Her pristine mane and tail contrasted with her charcoal black coat, one of her eyes was blue and the other one green, and her cutie mark depicted two crossed greatswords, one black and one white. In a darker time of her life before joining the Order, she had chosen the name herself. Not due to her physical characteristics, but to bear and display her fate with pride and a certain amount of masochism. She had been born into a noble family as a physically frail unicorn filly, unable to use any magic at all. Her condition kept deteriorating and she was retained only as a possible bride for a different noble to be given away. When the situation arose she refused, was kicked out of her home, and disowned. For several years she survived on the streets, begging and selling her body. When she was lucky, that was. With her physical weakness, 'selling' was more a luxury than practice. When just about a year ago, before the Order's first assignment, Cromach was looking for ponies willing to accept an invitation into what any reasonable individual would call suicide squad, she gladly accepted. Food, getting out of the rain, and not being a living stress relief for anypony who would pay her out of pity and those would use her without being as generous had seemed worth it. However, the Order members had met ponies with her condition. Unicorns unable to use even the simplest magic went against all laws of existence, and Contradiction was physically healthy, only extremely weak. They identified the root of her issues and put her through rigorous physical training difficult for somepony in her state. It wasn't drastic by any measures, but she was not allowed to take any breaks or days off. When she, after seeing the painfully slow progress, asked what good she was for when any earthpony could do what she could with one tenth of the exercise she did, she was told the details of her condition. There was no way for her to ever use magic, the ethereal veins focusing the power in her body were crippled and stretched. Unicorns lacking magic, being as tied to their power just as pegasi were tied to flying or earthponies to the contact with soil, suffered from their bodies deteriorating when not using their nature. However, just like flightless pegasi grew stronger by running, swimming, and other activities normally ignored by their kind, the stretched ethereal veins in magically-crippled unicorns' bodies allowed for dramatic increase in the power of telekinesis with the right training. Over nearly a year, the frail and crippled unicorn mare grew into somepony who could raze a wall with the power of her mind. With the growth of her newfound power, her body followed and now she was a well-toned mare who, while she could never be considered distinctly beautiful, could make a pony passing by whistle just with a sway of her hips. And yes, she was a huge perv. Being locked throughout most of her life inside a mansion and then, full of hormones, kicked out into the very horny dark alleys would make somepony give up the horizontal mambo forever, but she turned out a lot more practical about it. Chalk it up to yet another 'Contradiction' in her life. "I'm not burying myself in anything, Connie, there's just always a lot to do," Cromach lied his wonderfully round ass off and Connie knew it. "Sir, you barely leave the mansion, you don't talk to anypony whenever it's not a business thing, and just this week I caught you sleeping in here three times while gripping... that," she nodded to a hoof-sized alicorn statuette made of bronze and platinum with tiny sapphires for eyes on the workdesk the griffon started fumbling with unconsciously. She scrunched her muzzle, "Plus, this place reeks of cheap wine." "It reminds me of him," Cromach just mumbled and shook his head, about to stop the topic immediately, "Nevermind, I'm doing my job just fine. We are finally earning enough money to stay afloat with the new batch of police academy cadets. Everything is completely fine." "I know better than anypony that 'fine' is THE codeword for 'depressed as heck', sir. Trying to work yourself out of it is a good idea, but," she put her front legs on the desk and leaned towards Cromach. Her voice grew warmer, quieter, and full of concern, "but it's been half a year, sir. You're like a machine, just going through the motions. You need to get out, talk to ponies, regain some equinity... avianity... kittenity? Not sure how it is with you griffons." "Connie, I blew my chance to be happy, that's it. I'm done. All that remains now is to keep this shindig going and fight while I can until I meet somepony stronger and faster who ends this. I don't enjoy talking to ponies anymore, I can't just go out and see a movie about giant monsters who attack Equus and are defeated with a microwave running on full. I've seen worse monsters, real monsters, with my own eyes. I know what is out there, waiting for a chance to strike. Talking to a simple pony, no matter how nice or friendly, just... just doesn't mean anything to me anymore. The only ponies who have been through that with me from the beginning are dead. Do you understand? Heavy Hoof, my friend and a pony who rebuilt this Order from the ground, killed. Choking Darkness, the mare who always kept me from getting complacent, killed! Blazing Light, my best friend and the love of my life," he grips the alicorn statuette tightly, "KILLED! All three of them plus the entire first 'special' team we put together to fight against unnatural threats are dead now. I don't want to do this, I never wanted to do anything like this. All I want is... him." "Well I don't!" Connie said sharply, making Cromach twitch. "What?" The tiny, almost imperceptible growl in the griffon's voice told Connie that her unfortunate choice of words put her on ice thinner than the surface of a bubble. She knew Cromach well enough to know that he wasn't scared of any unnatural threat, or at least his fear wouldn't bother him in the slightest if his lover was still around. Her next words were very carefully thought through. "Sir," always a good start with somepony just about to boil, "I don't know what you've gone through before the Order. However, you are forgetting, or avoiding, some key details. You, your friends, my team and I... we stopped a god. Not evil alicorn or some dark mage, a GOD. I wish it could have happened without the sacrifices just like you do, but that simply wasn't possible. On top of it, everypony aside from Blazing Light survived the final encounter. We did a fantastic job." Cromach took a breath, but Connie's raised hoof stopped his desired response. "I know that right now you would rather see all of us gone and him alive here instead," she shook her head, "but that is my point. You are not the griffon who inspired all of us to go to the sacrificial valley and fight against impossible odds anymore. You are turning into Blaze and... and we don't need-" "You don't need a hero willing to give up everything just to save all of you from having to suffer? You don't need somepony responsible enough to see the big picture and sacrifice his own future for yours? You don't need-" "We need a leader," Connie's cold tone interrupted Cromach, "Somepony to inspire us to cooperate, to give us the courage to go on when there is nothing left but pain. The Order doesn't need another reclusive half-myth who shoulders everything on his own with suicidal determination until it's too late. We are a group of ponies, not a single powerful alicorn. We need to work together in case a threat like the last one appears again, and we must start while we are still ahead. I don't want to badmouth Blaze in any respect, but even you must admit the perfect picture of him you are painting for yourself is a glorified nonsense." "CONNIE!" the only reason Cromach didn't swing at her must have been the shock at somepony daring to disgrace his treasured memory. "We need you back, sir," she saluted and stared firmly at the wall of pictures behind Cromach, waiting for the response and unwilling to look him in the eyes. Crom had to reevaluate Connie's words. Every recruit had disliked Blaze at first, Connie being no exception, but in the end they all united under his command and stopped a threat to the entire world. "I... admit Blaze had his darker and less than stable moments. Damn, I've been there for him whenever I could," Cromach stood up from his armchair and stretched. Connie couldn't stop herself from letting her eyes slide over the griffon's body and gulp down a string of drool, "BUT, you are talking about somepony you knew little to nothing about." "And guess whose fault it was," she muttered. That was the killing blow, something Cromach couldn't disprove no matter how hard he might try. No industrial-size rose-tinted goggles could deny the fact that his hero, friend, and lover had not been... the best mentally adjusted pony. "Is that all?" he asked matter-of-factly in an attempt to bury the topic again. As he refused to return Connie's stare his gaze wandered to the neck of a half-empty wine bottle standing on the carpet. "No, actually, that was just the first subject on today's agenda," Connie returned to her role of secretary slash assistant slash guardian against dark forces. "You prepared an agenda?" the griffon facepalmed... facetaloned... something. "No, not really, just changing the subject, but I've still got two things. First," she levitated a gold-embossed little card and read aloud, "With love and respect, we invite you to Canterlot in hope you attend the engagement ceremony of Leo Goldhorn and Fortune. Blah blah address, blah blah, reply if you're not coming," Connie slid it over the desk to Cromach, "Looks like Leo and Fortune personalized our invitations. Mine was from Fortune and read - come and watch me become a noble, you disowned bitch." "You know she doesn't mean it," Cromach hid his beak into his talons, snorting. Fortune and Connie had both vied for the leadership of the Order's second special team. In light of Fortune's failure with the first one leading to the death of all other members, Contradiction got the responsibility. While the two competed far beyond any reasonable measure, they eventually used each other's talents to make success possible. Fortune had, after the fight with the god, left the Order with another member of the special team - a unicorn noble Leo Goldhorn. The inviation to their engagement ceremony was something that warmed Crom's heart a lot, although it also reminded him of his own loneliness. "I can take a joke, sir, trust me. I already picked the perfect gift for her," Connie's evil chuckle could make any dark lord give up his job and go to MareDonald's for retraining," I couldn't be happier that those two are finally making it official." "Did they invite Shadowstep and the guys?" Cromach was talking about a unit of changelings currently responsible for training the normal Order recruits. "Of course they did, however since you've been... neglecting the recruit lessons they are beyond busy. Plus, Starlight is in the Griffon Empire on business so Shadowstep has to do the unicorn recruits as well. They are sending gifts but they aren't coming." "I'm not sure I should go. You know, not to ruin their special evening with... my baggage," Crom frowned. "You are coming," Connie just shrugged. Mares with genuinely good intentions have some special talent for persuading stubborn guys, "It's on Tuesday. Strange timing if you ask me, but who am I to judge?" "Alright," the griffon gave up. It was for his own good, he kept repeating himself in an attempt to believe it. "Plus, there's a ton of nobles invited so you might get used to some company again." "Don't push your luck, Connie." "Just saying," she hummed angelically. "So, you said three things on the 'agenda'." "Oh, ehm, yes," the corners of Connie's mouth twitched, "With Leo, Fortune, and Straw leaving the Order and you making no moves to find new special recruits I could work with, the royal sisters thought it would be a good idea to... help." "So, did they send some stuck up ex-Royal Guards? I mean, you were right in saying we need to start training them as soon as possible, especially with the increasing cases of rogue necromancers reported in all big cities," Cromach shook his head, "Damn, something must have happened to Void. He would never let this grow so much. I'll have to talk to the sisters to send me to his realm," he ended up mumbling to himself. "Sir!" Connie gave a loud cough, "What did I say about not trying to do stuff alone? We will visit the alicorn of Death together when the time's right. I, for one, am not keen on meeting something that might have forced him to withdraw his protection from the departing souls. A trained team might help, wink -freaking- wink!" she blinked so hard her eyelids could snap a two-by-four. The subtlety of a hammer to the face got through to Cromach who sighed. "Fine, Celestia's driftwood. Guards then?" "No, not exactly," Connie laughed nervously, "I just think the sisters may have taken the term 'special' a little too seriously." "How many of them have only three legs?" Crom facetaloned again. He was getting good at it and had the feeling his practice wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "Oh, none." "Good." "Although two of them have only two and the last one... has a lot of teeth."