An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword


93 - A Very Merry (Un)Birthday

Extended Holiday
Ch 93: A Very Merry (Un)Birthday
Act 13


The downside to a large vessel like the Gantrithor was that the smaller actions could take too long. By the time Grif, Hammer Strike, and Circlet had the ship turned around towards Ponyville, it was already gaining on three in the morning, and the group, which was still inside the castle, was tired. Thus, by the time everyone was loaded and prepared, the sun was beginning to make its way up on the horizon.

“Should I put them in the rooms?” Grif asked Hammer Strike. “Let them sleep for the next eight or so seconds?”

“I say we just park the ship over New Unity and we just all sleep on board. Give them rest, and not move them all over the place. I rem–well, Matthew remembers sleeping on a bus once, and this is much more comfortable. Everypony already knows we won’t hurt them, so taking a nap over New Unity, then dropping off later tonight sounds like a great idea.”

“It’s going to be a little hard to sleep with all this sunlight filtering in,” Vital Spark noted. “Does the ship have any darker rooms?”

“We are on a warship. We have blackout curtains installed in the rooms. Just close the blinds, and the room will be dark enough,” Pensword muttered. “A Warship that shines like a lighthouse is a poor warship indeed.” With that said, he groggily began to weave his way out the door in search of his own place to rest.

Vital Spark let out a yawn. “Good, because I’m tired. I could probably sleep through armageddon and not even notice.”

Grif rolled his eyes as he worked on assigning everyone a room. He was yawning a bit himself as he entered the bridge. “Well, they’re all stowed away. Let’s get this behemoth moving before some noble gets bright ideas.”

“I’ve got extra security measures going; don’t worry,” Hammer Strike said. “Go ahead and get some rest yourself. I’ll get us home at a nice pace, so you all don’t fall over in your sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, you just don’t go crashing my ship into the side of a mountain.” Grif chuckled. “Who knows how long it would take to make another one?” He continued to laugh as he exited the room.

After Grif left, Hammer Strike couldn’t help but mutter something out loud. “I wonder if I could create a sort of protective field over the ship…”

“We have the energy,” Circlet noted. “It’s only a matter of the right enchantments.”

“Another problem would be the backlash if the energy isn’t contained correctly in the field.”

“What about projecting the energy outwards? If all the force faces away from us, then any backlash should only strike away from the ship.”

“It would work fine, but the problem is when one of us accidentally hits something that we don’t want to explode on impact.”

“Maybe you should contact a shield magic expert?” Circlet suggested. “Study the science of shield spells to better apply it to the ship?”

“I mean, I already have a shield spell, technically. Since the ship could power it well enough, I could try and apply it from just myself to the ship.”

“That seems somewhat inefficient,” Circlet noted.

“You just haven’t seen the shield in action. Then again, only Clover has, really.”

“The math still seems inefficient,” Circlet noted. “You can’t draw from the core and then redirect it around the ship without losing more power then you’ll be gaining.”

“As said, you don’t know my methods. I’ll show you another time. For now, let’s just get everyone home, eh?”

“Well, the course is set, and it’s not like Ponyville's a complicated trip. We can go when you're ready.”

Hammer Strike slowly pushed a switch forward, and the ship slowly glided forward..


Grif looked at Grenado with a raised eyebrow and crossed talons.

“So…”

“So...?”

“Do you mind explaining … that?” Grif gestured to a large hole blown into the battlements of the gatehouse.

“Well, ya see, Hammer Strike left us a cask of the good stuff last night, and I forgot that you shouldn’t be mixin’ explosives while you’re seeing triple, and I may have used a wee bit too much black powder,” Grenado said sheepishly.

“You do realise if this keeps up, we’re going to have to either start sending you away when we leave, or cut your alcohol ration when we leave.”

Grenado stared at Grif with an expression like he had just threatened his family.

“Just get it repaired, Grenado,” Grif sighed. “And from now on, no more mixing explosives after a drinking binge.”

Pensword entered. “Why is there a gaping hole in the wall? We cannot have this. If the nobles see this, it will be ammunition used against us and against the bill.”

“It’s been handled, Pensword. Just a minor accident. We’ll get it fixed, and the Demos are moving their lab below ground from now on,” Grif assured him.

“Good. The best testing is done underground,” Pensword chirped as he turned around and walked towards his office.

“I think it’s best if we leave the snipers to the gate house for now, Grenado. Have everything moved by morning, okay?” Grif chuckled a bit as he looked around the heavily packed room. “And get that hole fixed.” Without waiting for a reply, he strolled out the door and back towards his own office.


Pensword sat at his desk looking over some letters. Not even two days had passed, and already nobles were bombarding him with objects, support statements, or worse yet, obvious questions even a foal could answer by reading the bill’s contents. Why did they always have to be so lazy? Didn’t they know he had important work to do? He sighed as he looked at the significantly smaller stack in front of him. Preston, his Changeling secretary, had deemed them the most important, and had included a note for him to respond personally as soon as possible. Checking the pile, he was quite surprised to find just how many letters were from foals and younger Ponies. Why had so many children written to him? He briefly looked at the other two piles sitting on either side of the desk in separate mail bags, shook his head, then returned his attention to the letters at hoof. This would be more fun, he thought to himself.

He unfolded the first letter to find a crayon drawing of Ponies. He chuckled as he saw the note underneath it.

Dear Mister Pensword,

Please give my daddy his birthday off. It’s the week after the gala.

That was all it read. Pensword chuckled. Child logic. Everyone should know the important dates in their life. He looked at the address and the picture. Of course, Daddy was Daddy, but he did finally get something when he looked at the hastily scrawled name on the back. The child’s name was Glittering Star, a Unicorn according to the drawing, and was her daddy. He pulled a roll of parchment and wrote back.

Dear Glittering Star,

I would love to give your Daddy the day off; however, your daddy serves under Princess Celestia, so I am going to forward your letter to her, and she can let you know what she decides. I thank you for your kind letter, and I wish you a happy week. I hope your father gets the time off. I have a little girl of my own, so I know how he must feel being away from you.

Good Luck,
Pensword

As soon as he finished signing his name, he pulled out a new parchment and began to write.

To Princess Celestia:

I am forwarding you a letter written by one Glittering Star. While I know we cannot give the guards their birthdays off, I would like to request that we try and surprise her daddy with a surprise visit from daughter and wife. If he is a dignitary guard, I recommend we give Glittering Star the treatment of a visiting diplomat, even if it is for the single day. I leave the final choice in your hooves and wings. I told her that you would respond to the letter, so if it is a no, at least it comes from your royal parchments. Please be gentle with her.

Your Loyal Commander,
Pensword

He went to the the next letter.

Dear Mr.Pensword,

My daddy told me one time that you beat up a Dragon with your bare hooves! When I grow up, I want to be big, and brave, and strong, and fight dragons like you!

The name Golden Harvest was signed at the bottom.

Pensword chuckled. “I’ll never live that one down, will I?” he asked the empty room before taking pen to paper.

To Golden Harvest,

Your daddy is a smart stallion. And yes, I did fight a dragon. I do wish to caution you to learn wisdom as well when you train to become stronger. Bravery is akin to Courage, and I wish to say this, Courage is fear holding on a moment longer. If this does not make sense, ask your daddy to explain it to you. As for fighting Dragons, I pray nopony will have to face the inside jaws of a dragon. Trust me, it isn’t very pleasant.

Sincerely, a servant of the nation,

Commander Pensword

The next letter proved to be rather intriguing, having been addressed from the Ponyville Elementary School.

Dear Pensword,

I know you must be busy, especially with all this news about a new bill to militarize Equestria, but I was wondering if you might be able to find the time to come by my class to teach the foals a little bit about Thestral culture and a brief summary of their history as a people. With all the new Thestrals moving in across Equestria, I need to prepare my class, so they can understand, rather than bully, when we start getting more students. I think you know who I mean when I say bully. If you could please let me know when would be the best time to visit, I’ll make an arrangement for my class. Thank you in advance.

Sincerely,
Miss Cheerilee

Pensword sat at the desk in shock and ponderment. He blinked a few times before deciding to tackle the letter. It wasn’t like she’d leave him alone. Once Cheerliee had a lesson plan in mind, she went after it like a Diamond Dog after gems.

Dear Miss Cheerilee,

I would love to be a part of this class; however, I will have to decline personally, due to the fact that even I am learning what is normal for a Thestral of today. I lived a thousand years ago in a different Equestria.  If you still wish to present on Thestral history and how we used to act as a people, I will gladly help there. As for one who can help today, I cannot give any higher praise than to one Moonshade from the Lunar Guard. If you wish to have a day or two on Thestrals, I would be willing to attend to work off Moonshade’s modern day knowledge, so they can know what to expect.

Sincerely,
Commander Pensword Pen Hurricane (I am not writing out my full title.)

Pensword put the letters into the outbox and pulled another letter. Naturally, the envelope had already been opened.

Can I have an auto– Pensword saw at least six attempts at spelling the word before the entire thing was crossed out.

Can you sign your name to prove that you are real to my school?

Pensword chuckled and took up his pen and parchment.

I can do one better. Let me know your school, and I will give a presentation for everypony there. Thank you for the boldness and fearlessness to ask something as simple as my signature. I do wish for you to learn how to spell this one word, though. It is spelled autograph. I am happy to see you are learning big words. Keep up the good work.

Commander Moonkissed Pensword Pen Hurricane

Postscript, or P.S. You only asked for my name. I’ve included my favorite titles in a separate list for you to practice writing, too.

Pensword really was enjoying this exercise. Grinning, he promised himself that even when he had a full kingdom to protect, he would still take time to answer children’s letters. He’d have to remember to thank Preston properly later.


Sai casually drank his cup of tea as he looked on his two guests. The white mare with the sparkling gem cutie mark was most courteous, and appeared well versed in the traditions of taking tea. Hammer Strike simply heated his to the point of scalding before swallowing and uttering a satisfied sigh. They made for an unusual pair, and to think that the legendary figure had finally chosen to take a bride for himself. It would be something to shake the world, that much was certain.

“So you wished to discuss the travel arrangements with me, Hammer Strike?” he asked, even as he casually ignited another stick of incense from its holder on the carpet beneath them.

“Yes. I plan on us starting our journey next week, giving all of us the needed time to prepare. The Gantrithor should get us to Napon at less than a quarter of the time it would take to travel by hoof.”

“We would have to send word to our ships then. We did not know you had such a unique mode of transportation at your disposal.”

“It certainly seems like travel is going to be a lot easier with it around, now that it’s been modified to handle faster speeds.”

“And to accommodate more than just troops,” Rarity added. “Sometimes a cabin just needs a little feminine touch.”

Sai couldn’t help but laugh. “Your reputation precedes you, Rarity. You like to make everything as fashionable as possible, don’t you?”

“While that may be true, dear Sai, I was referring more to the necessity of comfort, rather than style. And perhaps a few small amenities to make it feel more like a room and less like a barracks.”

“I suppose that is fair enough,” Sai chuckled. Ping arrived carrying more tea. He carefully refilled each of their cups and bowed respectfully to Sai.

“Will there be anything else, Master Sai?”

“If you could perhaps bring our guests some rice balls, I believe they would appreciate it.”

Ping bowed. “Of course, Master. I will return momentarily.”

Sai sighed in approval. “Such a good boy. Now then, I know that you are averse to certain rules and customs, Hammer Strike, but in our culture, certain decorums must be maintained. There will likely be a parade in your honor–”

“I’m somewhat already not liking this,” Hammer Strike faintly muttered.

“Oh, come now, darling, it can’t be that bad,” Rarity whispered back.

“–You will have to meet with the emperor immediately afterwards, and a feast will also be held in celebration of your many deeds.”

“A feast? Tell me, Sai, what would a girl like me be expected to wear? A girl has to look her best for royalty,” Rarity gushed.

“Most young maidens wear a kimono, an intricately designed robe made from silk, usually depicting various scenes from our homeland, such as cherry trees or other floral patterns.”

“Why that sounds positively adorable! You … don’t think your people would mind too terribly if I were to try a more unique design, would they? I would never wish to cause offense.”

“With manners like yours, Lady Rarity? Surely you jest,” Sai said with a sly wink before returning to his tea with a perfectly straight face. “You will, of course, be allowed to go to your personal quarters afterwards, which will likely be in or near Master Haku’s residence. Some time later during your visit, an appointment will be set for each of you in the hall of records so that your personal first hand accounts may be taken and added to our collection to cross reference and remove any irregularities or inconsistencies. Aside from that, and possibly a guard and translator for your friends, your movements and freedoms should be fairly unrestricted during your stay.”

“First hand account of what?” Hammer Strike asked. “First hand account of when we were together?”

“Of various events we have recorded from your respective lives. Though we would like to clarify one inconsistency that has plagued our archives for over a millennium if at all possible.”

“Mind telling me what event it is?”

“Our records show you and your party being in Zebrica at the same time the Third Gryphon war was taking place. Since it is not possible for one to be in two places at once, we thought to ask each of you to find which is truth, and which is merely a fable. There are, unfortunately, those within the order of scribes who seek a faster way to respect and authority by forging events and documentation.”

Hammer Strike chuckled faintly. “I’m sorry to say this, Sai, but I can’t reveal all my secrets, so that one will have to remain a mystery in the archives for you all to solve some day in the future.”

“But surely it’s a simple matter of confirming or denying your location at the time,” Sai said.

“The thing is, Sai, I have been in multiple places near the same exact, if not exact, time, and sometimes I travel with the others.”

“That makes very little sense,” Sai said pointedly.

“Because I’m not saying how I and my party did it, but yes, we were there.”

Sai groaned. “This will set the consortium on fire in debates. I hope you realize that. And I’m going to have to be chairman that week.”

“I’m sure you’ve had worse debates over the other seventy-five percent of the things I’ve done, like how I can cast magic as an Earth Pony.” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“Actually, the council passed a motion as a body not to open that subject after Haku, Gakushu, and Kurama explained what little you had told them, and what they had witnessed when you used said power.”

“Good choice.”

“Indeed. Ah, thank you, Ping,” Sai said as the rice balls arrived. “I promise you, Lady Rarity, this will be a real treat for your taste buds.”

The squee of delight that followed the sampling spilled all across New Unity for the next minute straight.


Grif waited patiently at Ponyville Train Station. He’d gotten word that Genevieve was coming in on the noon train, and he wanted to be there when she arrived. He was excited to show her the compound, and what Hammer Strike was doing with New Unity.

At last, the train arrived, its brakes screeching to a halt as it hissed wearily. The journey must have been a hard one for the old steamer. The doors flipped open either magically or manually depending on the passenger as Ponies and other species flowed out from the carts, yet there was no sign of Genevieve.

Grif looked around. Had he gotten the train wrong?” He wondered as he took to the air and flew several feet above the station to try and get a better view.

Suddenly he was tackled from above, and a wicked laugh brought him up just short of plunging his talons into his assailant. “Got ya,” Genevieve said cheerfully as she rubbed her head against his neck.

“You know,” he said as he hugged her gently, “you really need to watch that. I wouldn’t want to do something by accident.”

“I don’t think you would,” she said as she waved her tail playfully in front of his beak. “So, we flying back, or did you want to show me Ponyville first?”

“I’ve got the whole day cleared,” Grif said as they landed. “Anything you want to do is open.”

Genevieve smirked. “Then let’s do everything.”

“And where, my lady, does everything begin?” he asked.

“Well, you are my tour guide, after all. I’ll trust your judgement,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Well then.” He smiled. “How about I show you off at the inn? I can show you where I tell stories from time to time.”

They did that, and from the inn, they went to the library, Sugar Cube Corner, several of the shops, except, of course, for Rarity's boutique, as she wasn’t there at the moment. He gave her a tour of what was left of the temporary fort they had used earlier, and showed her the field of battle where the snowball fight had occurred, and if he had anything to say about it, where the next one would be. Finally, they descended into the forest, and he showed her where they had worked on clearing the trees. He recounted his many fights with timberwolves and other beasts. It was already late afternoon when they emerged out of the forest with New Unty and the compound in view.

“And here we are, home sweet home.” Grif smiled as he beheld it.

Genevieve whistled. “You’ve really got the works here, haven’t you?”

“Well, I offered these Gryphons a safe place to live, so I had to live up to that. The fort, however, is only the start of Hammer Strike’s plan for the area.”

“Is that so?”

“Unity once united the Pony tribes. Why not something more than that? Why not make it a city for every species?” Grif smiled. “Except maybe our Diamond Dog enemies. Nobody seems to like them.”

“Is that even possible? We’re all so different. There’s bound to be conflict somewhere down the line,” Genevieve said.

“A few years ago, people would have said rescuing an emperor during a coup was impossible,” Grif noted. “How is your cousin doing?” He grinned in a cheeky manner.

“A few years ago, the Avatar of Winds wasn’t around to help stop it,” she countered. “It's not that I don’t believe in you. It just doesn’t seem possible in this generation is all.”

“The seeds of tomorrow need to be planted today.” Grif chuckled. “Besides, I seem to remember a time when females couldn’t be racing flyers, something that no one thought would change in a hundred generations.”

“And if it weren’t for you, it wouldn’t have,” she said again. “Aaaand you’re here, so I’m basically destroying my own argument.” She facetaloned.

“So then, what shall I show you first?” he asked. “The training fields? The clan building? The library?”

“Hmm. How about the training fields? I want to see just what I have to work with for practice. Just because I’ve got a couple of days off doesn’t mean that I should ignore my training.”

“Yes. I do recall you mentioning about showing off.” He laughed as he led her towards Unity Castle proper. “The track yard’s in the fort. I only have weapon training facilities in the compound at the moment.”

The courtyard and the space above it was currently filled with Ponies running courses of all kinds to keep fit. Several of them waved to the two, but otherwise ignored them as they continued to go about their tasks. Grif noted Pensword standing at the center. “Running them hard today, huh?”

“Well, of course. I’ve got to present them for a review by end of year,” Pensword replied. “I have to show that I can turn rabble into something that even looks like an army if you squint.”

“Pensword, this is Genevieve. Genevieve, this is Commander Pensword,” Grif said. “As honorable a warrior as you’ll find on a battlefield, and a damned good person to have your back.”

“Now there’s a stallion I wouldn’t mind competing against,” Genevieve said.

Pensword paused as he heard the statement. “Well, I am honored; however, I am more trained for the marathon trot, not sprinting as fast as you can towards the finish line,” he said with a smile. “Thank you for the compliment, though. It is rare to hear one from a Gryphon that is not of the Bladefeathers or connected to them in some way.”

“Who said it had to be sprinting or flying?” She smirked. “Name your sport, and I’ll play it.

“Wargaming,” Pensword answered without missing a beat.

“As in battle strategy?”

“Yes,” Pensword answered.  “Battle Strategy, long term, only goal being to win, no time limits, no gold, silver, or bronze. Just two outcomes.”

“Victory or failure,” Genevieve guessed. “I might be willing to play with you later, Pensword. Though for now, Grif is still giving me the grand tour. Maybe some other time?”

“Of course,” Pensword answered. “Oh, Grif, I move ten infantry divisions from Normandy into the surrounding areas.”

“Good move.” Grif nodded “I’ll let you know my response later,” he said with a wink before gesturing onwards to Genevieve.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of what your new home has to offer,” Genevieve said.

“And I anticipate showing them to you,” Grif said as the two of them continued onwards into the fortress.

“What secrets does this castle hold, I wonder?” Genevieve said as she passed through the doors.


Hammer Strike was quietly sitting in his office, looking over a few messages from Celestia and Luna. He sighed as he rolled one of the scrolls up and put it off to the side before grabbing his cup of tea and taking a drink. His ear twitched faintly as he heard two sets of talons moving down the hallway towards his room. He knew one of them was Grif, but for the second set, he couldn’t quite get the movement down.

“Come in, Grif,” he called out as soon as the clicking ceased. “As well as whoever else is with you.”

“I told you he’s good,” Grif’s voice said as they walked in.

“How can he have that strong of hearing without being blind?” the strange Gryphoness asked.

“By being deprived in another spot. Mine just happens to be most emotion,” Hammer Strike joked faintly as he looked over the newcomer. “I don’t believe we’ve met….”

“Genevieve. I’ve been engaged to Grif for the last few months.” She extended a taloned hand. “And you’re Hammer Strike, the legendary lord.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Hammer Strike said as he shook Genevieve’s extended talon. “A long distance relationship, eh?”

“You could say that, I suppose.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Hasn’t he told you about me?”

“My memory hasn’t been the best recently, I’m sorry to say. Thousand plus years of memories in my head and all that, you know?” Hammer joked as he tapped his forehead.

“I may have forgotten, though. We did get attacked…. Twice. And then there was the whole trip to the empire.”

Genevieve sighed. “That’s what I get for not writing.”

“It’s my fault,” Grif said sternly. “You’ve had a lot to concentrate on with training for the games. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Practice is nothing compared to fighting, especially when you were protecting Daedalus. My hero.” Then she kissed him again, this time on the beak.

“Well, Hamer Strike, I hope we weren't interrupting anything?” Grif said hastily as a blush rose to his cheeks.

“No, you aren’t. Haven’t had as much work since After Thought arrived.”

“Big plans for the new city of Unity?” Grif said.

“He’s leading the construction team to the designs and working on any problems that come along. After they clear the land for the first ring, they’ll lay the roads and foundations.”

Grif nodded. “Good to hear. If he needs any help, let me know. The clan’s always ready to help out.”

“Surprisingly enough, he hasn’t needed much help. The team is big enough to get a majority of the current workload done,” Hammer Strike explained. “So what brings you two around?”

“A tour,” Grif said, smiling. “I figured it would be good for her to get to know the area, since she’ll be living at the compound after the games.”

“Good to know. I would have been confused to see a new face without any context for why. It’s not exactly pleasant.”

“So you hate what seems to be every couple of weeks, then?” Grif asked smugly.

“Yep.”

“So has Rarity made your tux yet, or did your coat eat it?” Grif chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Coat eat it?” Genevieve asked.

Hammer Strike simply opened the left side of his coat and reached into one of the pockets, pulling out a sword easily too long to be held inside said coat. “Quite the storage system.”

Genevieve gaped.

“It’s best not to question it,” Grif told Genevieve as he closed her beak for her.

“And that’s only one of the mysteries that surrounds me,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “Just wait till you see the spellcasting.”

“How goes your book by the way?” Grif asked. “Anything interesting?”

“You don’t know the half of it, nor will you.”

“No, but I’ll learn enough, I hope,” Grif replied. “I’ve got the last lesson we did almost down pat.”

“Good. I like knowing that you won’t kill yourself. I’ll show you the next step another time, perhaps after the trip to Napon.”

“Napon?” Genevieve asked, surprised. “Since when did the emperor decide to let people come to his city?”

“He still hasn’t,” Grif noted, “but as like most things, Hammer Strike has made himself the exception.”

“I saved one of the high elders’ life a bit over a thousand years ago before the formation of Equestria.”

“Just how old are you?” Genevieve exclaimed.

“Very,” Hammer Strike replied simply.

“I’m going to have to get used to a lot of strange things, aren’t I?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hammer Strike said again.

“If an Earth Pony stallion pops out of a blue box and tries to talk to you, just make sure you walk away, unless I tell you otherwise,” Grif said, only half joking.

“Do I even want to ask?”

“You won’t have to. The answer may just pop up for you one day.” Hammer Strike gave a faint grin.

“And so begins the long slide down to insanity. Down, down, down into the downdrafts, my friends,” she quoted jestingly.

“Ahh, you think anybody’s sane here? That’s adorable.” Grif chuckled.

“Are you saying you were insane to want to marry me or any of the others?” Genevieve countered.

“Not quite, but I don’t think any of us were entirely sane to begin with,” Grif said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

“I’ll just have a nice long chat with Avalon and Shrial. I’m sure we can think of something to knock some sense back into you again,” she teased.

“I look forward to it.” Grif chuckled. “However, we have a few more things to cover tonight, and then I need to go hunting. After all, with you here, I should find something nice and fresh for dinner.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” Genevieve asked as she turned to Hammer Strike.

“Sure, I’ll pretend that word works for him.”

Genevieve laughed as she kissed Grif again. “Why don’t we get a room?”

“Follow me.” Grif grinned goofily. “I’ll see you later, Hammer Strike,” he said as he led Genevieve away.

Hammer Strike gave a faint wave as they exited his office. After some time he sighed to himself as he thought over what to do next.


Vital Spark smiled as he shot off another ice spear, finishing the snowflake configuration on the target at the secondary range Clover had ordered set up with specific runes in place to protect the rest of the castle from stray magic. “There we go.”

“You seem to have gotten the hang of that spell,” Clover voiced as she approached.

“It helps that I have archery experience. I just imagine it’s an arrow, and where I want it to go, and it just goes.”

“But how fast can you cast them?” Clover asked. “Let’s see how many you can do in thirty seconds.”

Vital Spark went deep into his imagination and pictured a great quiver filled with ice bolts, ready for the throwing. He imagined that quiver on his back, and its bow primed to fire. Once he had the images firmly embedded in his head, he nodded. “Ready.”

“Begin!” Clover snapped.

The arrow was nocked, the shaft formed, the string was pulled, and he fired. The spear clashed with its companion in the center of the target, breaking both apart. Smoothly, he continued, drawing the arrows, nocking, shooting, again and again. Nock. Draw. Aim. Fire. Repeat.

“Time!”

Clover’s voice hearkened Vital Spark back to his human days when he first learned how to handle a bow and arrow. Ah, those were the days. A tight cluster had formed around the center of the target.

“Not bad.” clover nodded. “Fifteen or so. Still, you’re slowing yourself down, making it too mundane.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are making a medium for yourself to propel the icicles. It’s good for getting things started, but it limits you. How many times can a pony fire a bow?” she asked. “You need to realize you don’t need the bow. You just need to will the icicle from point A to point B.”

“I … didn’t know that was coming over in the casting. I was just using the visual as an aid for the beginning, since I thought that would be the smoothest and fastest way.”

“If you had to shoot the icicle, yes, but magic is, in a fundamental way, chaotic. The laws of nature aren't as strong towards it as mundane things. I’ve noticed this problem in recent writings. So many mages needing to make magic scientific. There is no science here. You have point A, and you have point B. You have the will, and you have the target. That's all you need.”

“So essentially, I have to learn to trust the magic to do it properly and pass the technical barrier, much like the girls had to learn to trust Discord.”

Clover nodded “That’s a basic way of putting it, yes.”

Vital smiled. “I remember reading somewhere once that true genius is being able to take the most complex principles and simplifying them to the point where even a child can understand it.” He chuckled. “So, in essence, I just need to want it to happen–” His horn began to glow. “–And it will?” In a flash of light, thirty new icicles had embedded themselves into the target. Vital Spark swayed on his hooves. “Whoa. Headrush.”

“We’ll need to work on restraint.” Clover chuckled. “But you seemed to accept that idea with little trouble.”

“I’m a trusting kind of person.” He shrugged.

“I think we’ll move you on to your next spell,” she said as she took out another scroll. “This time we’re removing the physical component, and just using the cold itself in a focused beam.”

“So, you mean you want me to use a literal ice beam?”

“Oh, this is something you’ve heard of?”

Vital Spark burst into a helpless fit of laughter. After a few moments, he managed to regain his composure. “You could say that,” he said, humming a stirring song as he powered up his horn again.


Shawn adjusted the strap holding the large quiver on his back, in his left hand was a bow larger than even himself. The bow was made simply, with no carvings or intricate design. It started thicker near the top before thinning to a point near the bottom of the shaft, resulting in a spike at the bottom to impale enemies in close combat. The bowstring was made of an unknown material. The arrows were large, bigger than a spear, nearly the size of a lance in the point. Rather than his usual garb, he was wearing simple clothes: a gold shirt with a pair of jeans. Mentally he was figuring out exactly where he was going to test it, but for now he was just making his way to the top of the wall, facing the direction that had already been cleared of workers and was mostly empty.

Pushing open the doors, he arrived at the top of the wall, where a few guards were placed on watch. Those that were of the original groups gave Shawn a rather shocked stare for a few moments before they returned to their patrols along the wall. The newer members simply stared curiously at the human.

One of them turned to talk to one of the others. “I thought the Princesses sent the humans home?”

“Not yet,” Shawn called out as he continued to where he wanted to test the bow. “One day.”

“Then where are you staying?” Another new Pony asked in shock. “We thought we knew where everypony was rooming.”

“We’ve been here the whole time,” Shawn said, acting confused.

“Private! That's no way to talk to the hero of the Battle of Canterlot!” Black Rook shouted as he approached the group. “Show some respect!”

The recruit stiffened. “Yes, Sergeant Major,” the private shouted with respect.

“Now listen closely. The original, and still standing, orders of the units posted at this fort are to see to the safety and security of the human visitors until such a time as they may be sent home. They are generally happiest in their own company, and keep to themselves, but when they choose to show themselves, you will treat them as a commanding officer. You will do as ordered, and you will not ask questions. Information regarding the humans is highly classified. Is that understood?”

“Understood, Sergeant Major.” The Private saluted.

“Well, with that,” a familiar voice spoke up as Silver Spear joined his fellow officer. “What new weapons do you have to show off now, Lord Shawn?”

“A greatbow.” Shawn lifted said bow in his left hand. “Basically, it’s a bow that is much bigger, requires more strength to use, causes the arrows to travel farther, and can do more than penetrate a target. It’s entirely possible for it to tear the limb off as well.”

“So,” Silver Spear started, “only a Minotaur or human could use it? Or maybe a Unicorn?”

“You just need the strength to pull the bowstring back,” Shawn replied before holding it out. “How far do you think you could pull it back?”

“So, may I try then? Or...” Silver Spear grinned. “How about the Privates? We should have them try first.” The grin turned diabolical as he eyed the Private that had spoken out of turn earlier.

The Private smiled nervously as the others looked at her. “I’ll … give it my best?”

Shawn simply turned it upright before planting the bow into the stone beneath them using the pointed end. “Go for it.”

The private, an Earth Pony, walked up to the bow and looked it over before putting a hoof forward and pulling the string back. He was barely able to string it back to five inches, being too short to even get the large spear-like arrow fully drawn.

“At least you got it to move. A for effort,” Shawn commented. “Anyone else?”

Silver Spear nodded and lit his horn as he drew the string back with his magic. The string twitched and vibrated in his magical aura as he struggled to pull it back and nock the arrow. He was nearly able to seat the arrow before the string protested and snapped back, breaking from his control as he staggered back with crossed eyes.

To his credit, Black Rook didn’t mock his fellow soldier’s misfortune. He took a moment to look over the bow before he rotated his forehooves and cracked his neck. He grabbed the string, and with a grunt and a great exertion of effort, he managed to pull the string back. The veins in his head bulged from the stress as he worked to seat the arrow. Just as he was about to get it right, he lost his grip, and the arrow made a short arch from the bow before landing on the ground. It had traveled a distance of all of about two feet during its short time in the air.

“Nicely done. Now, shall I show you the full force of the bow?” Shawn asked as he reclaimed and shifted the bow, aiming at a tree in the distance. He widened his stance a bit before grabbing one of the arrows and pulling the drawstring back with ease. After a moment of adjustment he let go. The bowstring snapped back into place, launching the arrow into the distance. The spear-like missile proceeded to carve a straight deadly path at surprising speed. With a thunderous sound the head impacted into the hide of the tree and proceeded to drill on through until half the shaft seemed to vanish inside the trunk before it stopped, the arrow looked large enough to be another branch as it hung out parallel to the ground.

The Private and others stared, wide-eyed. One Gryphon Slayer who had landed moments before the missile was released was gaping. “I wish we had those against some of the Gryphon forts.”

“Now, imagine what it could do if I modify the arrows with some other materials, perhaps explosive materials?”

“Under siege or doing the sieging, either way, having a bow like that would change the entire theater,” Rook noted.

“Downside though is, as you all learned, it takes quite a bit of force to actually use this. For now, these bows are more of a personal project, but I might look into making some that you all can actually use easier later.”

“That reminded me of the time I tried to fire Grif’s bow,” Rook noted. “Except that was a lot easier, and it didn’t almost kill me.”

Shawn shrugged. “Just the way things are, eh?”

“I’ve been here since the beginning. Hay, I’ve been on a trip with Taze in the middle of winter. Very little surprises me anymore.”

“I’ll have to test that one of these days, hmm?”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

Moments later everyone but Shawn jumped as an arrow of glowing blue magic shot from inside the fortress to land at Shawn's feet. As the light dissipated, a note fell to the ground in front of him.

Shawn looked down at the letter. “Huh, haven’t gotten mail like that in awhile,” he said as he picked up the parchment.

Hammer Strike,

Gather Grif, Pensword, and Vital Spark, and meet me in my study.

Clover the Clever
P.S. why does nopony send message by arrow anymore?

“Welp,” he said, pocketing the letter. “I’m off. Got to get a few individuals for something,” he finished with a wave as he made his way towards his office.


Pensword stood in the study as he looked to Hammer Strike, Grif, and Vital. For what had once been such a blank room, it was surprising how quickly Clover had optimized the space, shelving all of her personal belongings, including several that had been hidden throughout the castle in various hidden rooms. Books, scrolls, tomes, grimoires, and other sources of knowledge, both arcane and historical, would have caused the shelves to sag were it not for her magic sustaining the wood.

A rune stone glowed on a large table, projecting a model of the planet and its two celestial bodies as they circled, along with a pair of glowing lines signifying the power moving them across the skies. A historical tome lay open on the surface with multiple spell books for comparison, along with several neat notes and cross references that had been written in on the margins and other notes that had been stuck there by a spell so they would remain with their material. Considering when she had taken this space for her own, it had been a small closet-like room without furniture, the things she had done would likely be deemed impossible to most Equestrians unfamiliar with The Doctor, so to say that she had somehow expanded the room into a massive two story study was an impressive feat was an understatement.

“So … what is this about? You do know that I do not like cloak and daggers, right? I am the one that should be doing that kind of stuff.” One couldn’t be sure if Pensword was joking or not.

“Dunno.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Clover just wanted us here.”

“And if she wants it, you don’t say no,” Vital Spark said adamantly.

“I know; I know. Mages,” he added in irritation.

“And we would qualify as?” Grif raised an eyebrow as he toyed with a small wind ball in his hand. Vital was carefully crafting a snowball in his hooves, and Hammer Strike’s eyes flashed with temporary blue fire.

“My point stands,” Pensword muttered with annoyance as he tried to ignore the laughter his mother and grandmother both were giving him. However, just for a split second, it seemed to get fuzzy, like static breaking a connection in a phone call before returning to normal.

“It’s not like you can’t do it either. You’ve just been choosing not to,” Hammer Strike said.

“And I have been a little busy. You say it is dangerous and deadly, and I tempt fate enough as is. Unless I have to learn this, I am happy being the general.”

“I said it’s deadly if you mess with it without knowing anything about it. Thus the reason for the book I’ve been translating.”

“And how goes the translation?” Pensword asked with a cool tone.

“Quite well.”

With a pop Clover appeared inside the room. “Sorry about that. I had some trouble getting into the Starswirl the Bearded section of the library.”

“Why would you have trouble with that?” Vital Spark asked, surprised.

“Because apparently the guard assigned to guard duty wasn’t at the gala, and therefore wouldn’t believe who I was.”

“You have the letter from Luna, right? Shouldn’t my documents have done something?” Pensword asked as he grumbled. “I am going to have too overhaul the Guards as well. My entire career is going to be spent rebuilding this military.”

“Either way, I’m glad you all could make it,” Clover noted. “It’s taken me a while to figure out a way to test your particular brand of magic.”

“Fun fact, not technically magic,” Hammer Strike commented. “Kind of figured that out … technically recently.”

“Well either way, I’ve worked out a test that will indicate the potential energy field for each of you. It’s more of a general test than the usual one because it doesn’t just pick up mana, but I’m hoping, with a few alterations to it, that will help narrow things down.”

“Just as long as there’s no accidental head exploding,” Vital joked.

“I haven’t accidentally exploded a head since I was twelve years old, I’ll have you know,” Clover huffed.

Pensword saw the look on Vital’s muzzle and grinned. “That’s a better track record than some mage schools I heard about a thousand years ago.” A twitch and frown crossed his mind, a tick that those in the know knew meant that Matthew was not happy with Pensword’s words.

Somewhere in Unity, Lunar Fang got the strange feeling she would have buffeted Pensword with a wing just now.

“Now I need one of you to enter the marked area,” she said, indicating a series of black charcoal lines that had been drawn on the floor.

Pensword surprised his friends with the sudden jerky move before he finished walking along the rich wood floor grumbling in Draconic. He turned to face Clover once inside the marked area. “Do I need to spread my wings or something?”

“Just stand there,” she said. “First a basic Equestrian reading.” With these words, her horn glowed. The blue light illuminated the room for a moment before fading. “You have the same Equestrian magical field as a low beta level Unicorn.”

Pensword raised a wing in confusion. “That… sounds a little high for a Pegasus Thestral.”

“Now then,” Clover said, concentrating again as a layer of magic covered her horn, then a second, then a third. The room was filled with a positively blinding blue light this time. After it faded, she nodded. “With this test, you have the entire energy readout of a mid-level beta Unicorn,” she noted.

“That ... sounds interesting,” Pensword answered as he blinked away the light. “Well, I am going to find my spot now, unless you need to run more tests.” The tone has shifted to one of tired acceptance. It would seem Matthew had been given a little leeway to speak.

“Alright,” she said. “Next?”

“Batter up,” Vital said, chuckling as he stepped forward.

Clover proceeded once again with the standard test, noting with a bit of surprise that Vital only scored a theta level. However, at the second test her eyes seemed to bulge a bit. “That’s quite a boost,” she noted.

“What do you mean?” Vital asked.

“Your entire energy output is on par, if not slightly exceeding that of Commander Pensword as a mid-beta level Unicorn.”

“So I’d pretty much be a weak Unicorn if it weren’t for the field giving me a boost?”

“I think,” Clover admitted. “The data is still only based on the modified test I made.”

“Step aside, my friend.” Grif chuckled as he moved to the spot while Vital took his place. “Let's see how this turns out for a Gryphon.”

“Yes, cross species data will help me figure out the full accuracy of the test.” Clover nodded. When Grif was in place, she ignited her horn. She grinned a bit as the light faded. “The same magical potential as a high beta level Unicorn. Not bad,” she noted.

When she performed the second test rather than the light dieing, there was a loud bang as it almost seemed to pop out of existence. The end of Clover’s horn was smoking. “Grif, you're giving off the same energy output as an alpha plus level Unicorn.”

“Well, I do exercise it every day,” Grif noted. “Like a muscle, the more you use, the more you gain.”

“Yeah, yeah, get over yourself,” Clover chuckled. She looked to Hammer Strike. “Guess it’s just you.”

“Let’s see what I am, shall we?” Hammer Strike commented moving to the indicated spot.

“Okay, first the standard test,” Clover noted as she once again performed it. “Wow. Your raw equestrian magic is on par with Grif’s full energy output.”

Hammer Strike hummed aloud. “Huh, that’s actually a bit odd…”

This time when Clover performed the second test there was a small explosion, knocking her back as her horn glowed an angry red. “Oh my,” was all she could say between coughs.

Hammer Strike made his way over to her. “You alright?”

“Yes, but your energy output is massive, more than Princess Cadence, and she’s an Alicorn.”

“Uhh, you’re positive?” Hammer Strike asked, his tone shifting to uncertainty.

“Even with a base margin for error, I’d say that yes, yes I am.”

“Doesn’t help that I have two magical fields trapped inside the thaumic one, being Celestia and Luna’s…”

“Yes, that would do it as well.” Clover nodded.

“Well, at least we have this bit of info down for each of us,” Hammer Strike commented.

“So what does it do for us?” Vital asked.

“It’s better to go on a journey knowing from where you started than to just start on a journey,” Clover said. “One of Starswirl’s better, if more confusing, quotes.”

“A journey is fun, but we need to have the start and the end, so we have a frame to even adventure in,” Pensword added with a grin. “However, I am concerned. This test just seems like we are too high up in rank. It doesn't feel right.”

“Well for you two,” she said, gesturing to Vital and Pensword, “I don’t see the logic behind that. At your current level, Commander, you could be overwhelmed by the amatuer spellwork of a kindergarten class a week into the semester.”

“Understood,” Pensword answered looking actually relieved at that. “Then again… with how we teach the Unicorns today, I could probably break free of that quickly.”

“Um, does that mean I’m going to have to focus on defensive magic next?” Vital asked.

“We’ll be covering that in the group classes,” Clover assured him. “There are defensive ice spells as well, but you’re not ready for those yet.”

“I’ll need you to teach me how to use my focus in a fight, too,” Vital mused. “Ever since I made it, I’ve hardly had to use it.”

“You mean you haven’t been casting the spells I taught you through your focus when you’ve been practicing without me around?” Clover was a little shocked.

“No. I thought you just wanted me to focus on casting with my horn,” he said honestly.

“When you were with me. So I could concentrate on how you were casting the spell,” she said as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, I didn’t know that.” He sighed and shrugged. “In case you didn’t know, Clover, I’m the kind of person that requires specific instructions, and more often than not, a little bluntness.”

“Well then from now on practice with your focus. You should find it easier to direct and charge spells with it.”

“Sort of like training wheels while I build up the ability to cast spells just as strongly using my horn alone? I mean, I know I can’t always rely on it. I’m not saying I’ll never use it,” he clarified.

“And when you need to let your horn cool off, or you're suffering cool down? What if you run out of stamina or find yourself against anti magic? Your focus is a form of self defense as well as a magical amplifier.

“A focus can defend against anti magic?” Vital asked, surprised.

“In the old fashioned way,” she said, summoning her focus and spinning the mace end before bringing it down on an empty table, reducing it to splinters. “It is more difficult to separate a Unicorn from his or her focus. Most anti magic can’t disrupt the telepathy used to hold it.”

“And yet another useful fact,” Vital said. Then he grinned. “Guess that means I’ll be spending a few late nights these next couple of days.”

“Good,” Pensword said with a nod of approval.

“Late to bed, early to rise, makes you able to kick butt and take names,” Grif added.

Vital chuckled. “Anything else to add, oh fearless leader?” he asked with a facetious grin and a bow to Hammer Strike.

“Nope.”

Pensword smiled. “Well, I do have one thing.” He waited for Vital and the others to look at him. “I want you to be the United States Equestrian Expert. When we get back, you are to give the government all the information that is available to normal everyday citizens of this kingdom, am I understood?” He was smiling now. “You are going to be tapped by all the future presidents,” Pensword said. A playful tone had taken the place of his more stalwart military manner. “You will be the expert on extrauniversal life, and what you say will carry weight. And the best part? You are outside of the beltway.”

“The what?” Vital asked.

“You … you don’t know what the Beltway is? DC. Your nation's capital? Surrounded by a ribbon of roadways that circle it?”

“I had absolutely no idea that’s what it was called,” Vital said with a shrug. “By the way, glad to hear a little more of you, Matt.” He smiled.

“Well, I need someone to be smart about all this. You know how I will act. You know Shawn, the Princesses, and others. You cannot just let those two parties create the policy. You will be there to craft it as well.”

“Policy?”

The minds of Pensword and Matthew both brought the facehoof. Matthew fought forward first. “That is what every single presidency uses to…. How can...? I mean, you and.… WHAT DO THEY TEACH IN AMERICAN SCHOOLS?” That shout came from Pensword. “What I am trying to say is, policy is how nations respond and act towards each other. Last I knew, the US had a policy of being hard on any military buildup against Taiwan, and that it was used to help protect the DMZ, the special relationship between the UK and America. All of that is policy and actions, and you will need to craft it so the Earth does not trod upon our rights and privileges, or try to dictate what we do.”

“How would they even begin to manage that when they can’t even get here?”

“If you are going to have this debate, can you leave? I have important arcane research to do, you know,” Clover cut in.

“Oh yeah. Right.” Vital chuckled, embarrassed. “Sorry, Clover. Was there anything else you needed us for?”

“No, you can go. In fact, I insist upon it.”

Pensword did his best to hide the smile of relief on his muzzle as he made his way out of Clover’s lab.

“See you at class tomorrow,” Vital said by way of farewell, and then he, too, was gone.


Grif had appointed several aids towards the upkeep and record keeping of the Bladefeatehr clan, but as clan leader it was still expected of him to review everything presented at least once a month. He’d decided rather then spending the day in his office surrounded by stacks of paperwork, he would have each of his aids comprise all pertinent information in a report no longer of two pages, which he could then read while taking a walk or something. This is what he was now doing as he walked down through the housing area of the Bladefeather compound while scanning the current report on the clan’s legal and economic areas. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the clan was beginning to turn in a small profit.

Despite the communal mess hall, several families had acquired their own cooking equipment, and had begun to cook their own meals from home. Others had gone so far as to set up small stands, which, as Grif looked around, he could see patrons of not only other clan members, but guards and their families from Unity. The Thestrals had become fond of several Gryphon dishes, it would seem, and were becoming quite a fixture in the developing marketplace that was the path between houses.

It was when he switched to the population reports that Grif became concerned, not because more than half the female warriors had put in requests for maternity leave; that fact was a good thing. The clan was already starting to expand. No, what bothered him was when he found Chesire had been on sick leave since the day after the dedication, and she hadn’t been contacted in a week.

Grif raised his head and checked the identifiers that had been set up for the housing settlements, and ever-so-slightly changed his course so he’d cross her currently-assigned quarters while he did his work. And so, half an hour later, he found himself knocking on her door.

“Chesh? Cat, are you okay in there?” he called out. When he received no response, he proceeded to pick the lock and let himself in. Moving carefully from the entrance area to the main hall, he steeled himself for what he might find.

The room was surprisingly large and spacious. A great mantle hung over a roaring fireplace. Above the mantle, a giant mirror reflected back at him, showing the room at a diagonal slant. On either end of the mantle, two bookends shaped and painted like a grinning tabby cat with purple stripes and a lavender coat stared out. A tea tray had been set up on a little circular coffee table. The tea pot’s lid lid was a large milliner’s top hat with a great golden buckle. The jam was held in a porcelain mouse whose upper body had been removed. A butter knife hung from the lip, its edges covered in the sticky purple substance. The sugar bowl was surprisingly tall and thin, more like a cup than a bowl, with a painted suit and tweed jacket. The grinning hare stared ahead with an eye caught in mid-twitch, its head just slightly off kilter. The tea cups were all painted to look like the bottoms of little dresses, each in a different color, but following the same design.

Over on a large and comfortable chair by the fire, Grif could make out the pile of equipment that was Cheshire’s weapons and armor. Strange. She’d always seemed so respectful of it before, but the scratches on it seemed to imply either a gross lack of regard for the metal, or possibly frustration taken out on the plating via her talons. A record was playing over to the side next to a tall book shelf with a familiar, playful tune filled with nonsense words. A white rug had been cast next to the fire for those who would prefer to lie down and get warm, rather than sit on the chairs provided. The room itself proved to be … remarkably neutral in its style and color, practically mundane, which was a strange surprise.

All of this came secondary to Grifs mind, however, as he locked onto the source of his breaking and entering. Cheshire was standing in front of the fire, staring into the flames. Naturally, the fire, for its part, threw rich red and yellow light onto the Gryphoness, giving her a distinct look. With her back to him it was impossible to fail to notice the familiar bulge in her abdomen located in roughly the same area where Avalon and Shrial currently had their own.

“Cheshire?” Grif said, somewhat shocked.

There was a brief moment where Chesire went rigid. Her hairs stood on end, much like a cat. When she seemed to calm down, it still took a long time before she turned around to acknowledge her clan leader.

“Grif…” she said pensively. “I didn’t hear you come in”

“Cheshire … what am I seeing?” Grif asked, taking some time to gather his words.

“I’d figured by now you’d be aware of this,” she said.

“Yes, but i believe I deserve at least some sort of explanation,” Grif noted. His mind was racing as it tried to decide how he should feel. Cheshire was his friend, and he was worried for her, but part of him suspected some sort of betrayal to Kel’leams memory while yet another part totally vetoed that idea.

“Well .… That is to say….” She seemed to need a moment to collect her thoughts before she finally exhaled. “Grif, I’m carrying Kel’leam’s bastard. I have been since that night at the Farflyer banquet.”

Grif surprised them both when he let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. “Considering these things don’t happen by accident for our species,” Grif noted, “I think I’m still going to need some backstory here.”

Cheshire let out a groan. “It started a while back before we met you, Grif. I met Kel’leam not long after he came to Equestria and joined the Ogre’s Eye. At that time… well, I was young and full of hormones. One moment I was itching for a fight, and the next I was certain I was going to die. Kel’leam was always there whispering words of encouragement to me. Eventually things changed between us. One night before a battle we were both so plagued with wondering if either of us was going to be alive the next evening… we came to an arrangement, a tryst of sorts that gave us both some comfort from the violence that surrounded our way of life. At some point that blossomed into something more, but as you know, neither of us ever confessed anything. After the Black Tips attacked that night at the Farflyer compound, I realized I wanted a legacy to leave Kel’leam should anything happen to me, and a piece of him should anything happen to him.” She chuckled bitterly. “Chalk one up to foresight, huh? The night while you were feasting in the hall, the clan leader had food and drink sent to those of us still back at camp. I drank. Kel’leam drank. I drank more; he drank more. Finally things heated up, and I did something stupid.”

“And why did you hide this? Why didn’t you tell me?” Grif asked.

“You're not like most clan leaders, Grif, but I still didn’t know how different. You know how this kind of thing is seen amongst our kind. I’d hoped I could hide for the time needed, give birth to my cub, and then raise him in secret until he was old enough to sneak him in as my apprentice.”

Grif put a talon to his face. “You should have told me, Cheshire. Even if I cared what our culture says about this sort of thing, Kel’leam was like a brother to me.”

There was a long silence between them as Chesire did her very best to find a crack in her floor. For the first time, she was expressing the one emotion Grif had never attributed to her: shame. Finally Grif broke the silence.

“You're going to need an increase in pay, and an aid of some kind for the next few months. Oh, Winds, Kel’leam was huge!” he gasped. “And look at you! You’re as big as Shrial, and she’s carrying twins and nearly ready to give birth. I need to send for a doctor. We need to get you checked out.”

“Grif, what are you talking about?” she looked at him. “If this goes public, I’ll be shunned.”

“Like Tartarus you will,” Grif snapped back. “Kel’leam may be entombed in Gryphelheim, but he is a hero of this clan, and you’re carrying his heir.” He let out a frustrated groan. “This is going to be so much paperwork. It would be so much easier if he had family to approve this.”

“Grif, slow down. You’re not making a lot of sense.”

“Kel’leam was as good as my brother to the clan, Chesire, and you're carrying the only heir to his bloodline. I guess an official document would do. As you're both Bladefeathers, there is no need to give you his name. Don’t give me that confused look, Cheshire. The Code of Clans clearly dictates that a Gryphoness may be named the wife of a warrior after his death if they died in battle and the female is carrying the only living heir.”

“That's never a popular move,” Cheshire pointed out.

“I think the clan will forgive me,” Grif said. “Get yourself down to Kalima. I’ll send for Zecora and have her make sure you're healthy. Hurry up, Cat. I have a lot to do,” he said, practically dragging Cheshire out of the room.