Several days after the incident at the Goldhorn manor, Contradiction finally left the confines of her room.
She had been left alone by everypony while Cromach took care of all the paperwork surrounding the theft of ancient magical artefacts, grand use of dark magic, and barely averted massacre. The griffon knew that more than anything that had happened during the ceremony, what hurt Connie were his words. He had tried to talk to her, but she ordered the cooks to have her meals delivered and her room was locked. Trying to talk through the door had been fruitless either.
Was Contradiction furious about what Crom said?
No, she wasn't. The thing that twisted her stomach every time she recalled nearly getting her head cut off by the undead earthpony was that she knew in all her being that Crom had been right. She was less than a unicorn and she would always be. She couldn't fly, magic was nothing but a dream for her, and she would never reach physical atributes of a trained earthpony to compensate.
On the morning of day three, after spending far too much time than a young lady should in a dark room with her box of stress relievers of all shapes and sizes, the black and white unicorn emerged from her refuge with a determined expression on her face.
Astray was worried when he saw his unkempt boss smelling of sweat and other things approach the squad during the early training. Anvil greeted Contradiction with her usual mix of hostility, pride, and only the slightest hint of respect which the unicorn just shrugged off without a comment. That should have been the group's first clue, as Connie had answered Anvil's taunts and challenges every time before. Even Bubbles happily leaping straight at the mare with mouth open and tongue stuck out to lick her muzzle was simply telekinetically plucked from mid-air and set down on the lawn.
That was the second clue, because nopony, no matter how afraid at first, could refuse Bubbles' enthusiasm and boundless love she offered when treated with even the tiniest bit of friendship.
After that, Connie ordered them to move to the training grounds behind the mansion which were the personal gauntlet of Horatio Cross, the Order's changeling weapon trainer, and a living supersoldier.
At that point, the group should have started running.
The only three Order members to practice in this place were Cross himself, Cromach, and Antares, yet another changeling who was a hoof-to-hoof brawling and martial arts specialist. The training course was too difficult for Connie, normal recruits, even Anvil after three rounds. Astray was barely walking after the first round, Connie collapsed several times through but always got up without a word, only Bubbles was leaping over five ponies high walls with the pure joy of a hunting dog being taken for a walk after being locked up for a week.
Connie's reason for butchering her squad and pushing them far beyond their limits was simple - she had failed against the attackers, they were even worse than she was, there was maybe only a little time before the second encounter, anything was better than death on the battleground. The official reason.
The grip of Astray's hand on the rope failed, sending the satyr down on the baked ground. He'd almost gotten over the wooden wall, but now he had his breath knocked out of him. His eyes were burning from sweat pouring down his forehead, he could barely see, but he could hear the angry growl punctuated by gasping for air from a different obstacle nearby - a net of wires Contradiction was crawling underneath:
"Get up -haah- you useless -huff- piece of shit or -haaah- the next rope you touch -hrrg- will be a noose!"
This was the fifth round. Astray lying on his back only in his pants knew he wouldn't be able to finish it. A loud thud followed by cursing from the end of the track told him Anvil was nearing the end of her rope as well, although he had to admit she did deserve praise for being two rounds ahead of him.
He groaned, got up, his head spun, and he fell back down. Bubbles, panting but still ecstatic about the workout, stopped by and licked his face clean. At that point, Astray envied the half-demon's energy and would have traded places with her no matter how small his potential cage would be.
"Wheeeeee!" Bubbles leapt up on the wooden wall, her claws scored more grooves into it as her forelegs pushed her upwards, she locked her hind legs around the climbing rope hanging from the top, and in few short pulls upwards was on the other side. Astray sighed, shook his head, and went for yet another attempt. He finally climbed on the top and swung his legs over the edge to jump down when his vision blurred again and instead of jumping he keeled over like a rag doll. The best he could do was to bend his arms to cusion the drop.
No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get up anymore after not even an hour of this torture.
"Come ooon," he mumbled quietly to himself, trying to persuade his arms to push him off the ground fruitlessly, "Get up before-"
His body was lifted up in a soft white glow sharply contrasting with Contradiction's furious expression. Astray knew the choking unicorn must be seeing red. Anvil stopped what she was doing and half-ran half-limped over to check up on him.
The satyr expected to be yelled at, or wheezed at as Connie didn't look in a shape to do more, but she just lifted him a little higher and then tossed him back down. He landed on his legs which immediately gave out under his weight and...
...hit something soft and firm at the same time.
Barely conscious, Astray wasn't in the shape to comment on completely nude Anvil catching him against her chest and slinging him over her shoulder.
"Break..." Connie hissed, still panting, "Get out... of my sight..." she spat on a nearby patch of not yet trampled grass, "Training with normals... later... teamfight... ing."
She fell over, pawed at the grass, and pushed herself back up. Ignoring Anvil slowly backing off with Astray hanging limply from her, the unicorn wobbled back towards a horizontal ladder called monkey bars by some, jumped upwards, wrapped her hooves around the first bar, swung forwards to reach for the next, dropped like a rock, jumped back up, slammed into the ground, back up...
"She's not going to be in a shape to do anything if she goes all crazy like that," Anvil muttered, ignoring both her and Astray's sweat flowing through her coat like a river. She carried him off to a pile of their things and put him surprisingly gently on the soft grass. He just stared upwards at the sky, no matter Anvil's sweat-drenched coat clinging to her clearly visible everything. He had no strength left to do more than breathe.
Anvil stared at her discarded loincloth next to her small bag with five bottles of water, four now empty. Without asking, she opened Astray's large bag containing the princess' gift armor and only a single bottle. She rolled her eyes. Unscrewing her last one, she took a long draft, poured most of its contents over herself, and chucked the rest at Astray's face. Sadly, while such waste woke the satyr up from his exhausted daze, he couldn't catch any sweet drink in his mouth so, as Anvil turned her back to him, he only watched the wasted refreshing liquid trickle down her coat and inbetween her wide, muscular buttcheeks. For once, he really, really just wanted a cold drink.
When his head finally stopped spinning, he stood up, promptly catching Anvil's hand for support. Expecting to be pushed away, he let go and the hand wrapped around his shoulders.
"Sorry," he said.
"You should be," Anvil huffed, "dragging me away from training like that. I could have gone at least another round if I didn't have to carry your weak ass back."
"You're really strong, heh," Astray eased himself against her, appreciating the help with walking.
"Yes, I'm not you," Anvil simply stated, carrying both her and the satyr's bags in one hand. The set of armor was ridiculously heavy when held like that and she was exhasted as well, not that she would ever admit it, but her teammate couldn't even walk anymore, so it was up to her to take care of the situation.
Bubbles ran over as they reached the cooler shadow cast by the mansion.
"You done?" Anvil asked.
"Yeah, I didn't want to bother miss Contradiction while sleeping."
"Sleeping?" Anvil looked at Cross' private training grounds. A black pile was lying underneath the ladder trapeze, unmoving and baking in the sun. It was going to be one hell of a scorcher today. Anvil wanted to at least drag the obviously unconscious unicorn to the shade, but she felt Connie was trying to work through something that had happened to her during her and Cromach's day off, and that her help, while maybe necessary, was definitely unwanted.
To Anvil, stupidity was like a disease - it had to get worse before it got better.
"Woooooooo!" some recruit currently on a break yelled, starting a cascade of whistles and admiring comments, when they walked back onto the common training grounds in front of the mansion. The minotaur was becoming a well-known attraction and welcome distraction of the Order proper. Anvil pondered for a moment if it was a mistake to not put at least her loincloth back on, and then just shrugged. It was too hot already and it was still just morning. Instead, she lobbed an empty plastic water bottle so hard it impaled itself on the yelling unicorn's horn.
"They like you..." Astray, slowly falling asleep while walking, or more being dragged, with each passing minute.
"Shut up or I'm throwing you," she grinned as the attention and laughter turned to her victim trying in panic to free his horn.
"Heheh..."
Still, she knew something was very wrong and suspected there was more to come than this insane morning.
She was right.
Hour and a half after lunch when squad training was scheduled, Connie walking unsteadily joined the others outside on a free part of the front lawn where four recruits nearing the end of the year of their training time within the Order were waiting already. Two unicorns, one earthpony, and one pegasus, all armed with practice weaponry.
"Alright," Connie started, "Thanks for coming, I hope Cross isn't too mad at me for borrowing you."
"No, ma'am!" the 'enemy' team saluted. The earthpony, surprisingly enough their leader, added, "He said he would watch, but he is busy with grandmaster Antares at the moment. Something about private lessons."
"Right, right. Some nobles need more sessions because they won't be able to be here until the end of the year. They want to also go through official Canterlot Royal Guard bootcamp which overlaps with our plan," she shook her head. Poorly timed business practices were not the point of today, "Nevermind, we don't need an audience for this. I told Cross to give me his best team to practice against because these guys... we need a serious challenge. I want you to go all out."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"You three," Connie gave a quick look to her squad, "Do you know these ponies?"
"We played ball!" Bubbles smiled at the enemies.
"Yeah," Anvil dusts her palms off, "they learned I'm out of their league faster than the others."
"No," admitted Astray, slightly ashamed after the other's familiarity with the other team.
"Meh," Connie frowned, "I was hoping their skill would be a surprise for you to adapt to in the fight, but this'll have to do. Now, I'll be limiting myself to average telekinetic power. Bubbles!"
"Yes?" the hybrid's large ears perked up.
"No biting, clawing, or melting through armor along with them. Just enough to bruise or scratch, got it?"
"Okay!"
"Anvil, you do whatever you want. Astray, try not to swallow your own tongue or trip over the damn sword," she scowled at the satyr.
Anvil didn't comment, just picked up a practice two-handed mace with heavily padded top. Astray went for a standard longsword while Connie levitated a greatsword for herself.
"Off to your positions," Connie pointed to the one end of the designated area and then to the other, "Got a minute to formulate a battle plan. If Astray doesn't choke on his own drool we might even progress to a different kind of terrain than flat grassland next time."
Astray winced when Connie looked at him, eyes narrowing. It would have been fine if the entirety of the enemy team didn't start measuring him up and calculating how to put pressure on him as the weakest link. What was Contradiction's problem with him? He couldn't understand the sudden change of position. He was doing his best. True, it wasn't as much as Anvil or Bubbles could do, but he kept going until his body failed him. He couldn't do more, could he?
Shaking his head, he gave his fake sword few practice swings before Contradiction pulled them all into a huddle.
"Basic concepts which all of you should have noticed - the enemy team has two unicorns and one pegasus. Astray, what do you make of it?" Connie barked out.
"Umm," the satyr panicked, "I-"
"Aaand you're dead. Congratulation, you dragged your team down six feet under. Anvil, any predictions?"
"We have no magical protection. Bubbles is partially resistant as a demon or whatever she is and she's crazy fast so she should take care of at least one of the unicorns, preferrably the one who shows himself to be a mage. You, as our only long-range support will be wanting to make the pegasus drop down where we can deal with him plus I have no doubt he'll be using long range weapons so you can stop that. I'll deal with the earthpony easily. Astray should-"
"Learn to assess his situation and watch his surroundings constantly," Connie interrupted her. Anvil's nod made the satyr look down at the grass and sigh.
"-Definitely, but he is agile enough to at least slow down a flying sword so he should deal with the unicorn who is not a pure spellcaster, if there is one. That team composition would make sense if I discount the possibility that one of them is a combat medic. Am I right in assuming they are experienced in working together as a team unlike us?"
"They are used to working in a team, not in that specific group, yes."
"Then we need to split them because I have no idea how any of you will react to situations that can emerge."
"Good eyes, but planning's my job, not yours," Connie nodded. Anvil's eyes bulged at the casual reminder she is not the leader of this operation, "Now listen carefully. Bubbles will rush as fast as she can around them to flank the unicorn who stays behind, he will be the mage. Anvil, you charge straight at the earthpony. If you can yell from the top of your lungs that would help. It screws up unicorn concentration. I'll drag the pegasus down and prevent him from doing anything while Astray 'kills' him. That means you'll have to watch your sides for a flying sword as well for a short while, Anvil. Got it?"
"Splitting them up into one versus ones sounds way better," Anvil objected.
"I'm not going through this insubordination bullshit again," Connie stomped the ground, "You either listen to me, or we lose. I don't have to prove anything to you, you have to prove everything to me."
The minotaur shook her head but didn't say anything else and just cracked her neck. As the huddle ended, the enemy group was already prepared, forming a triangle with the pegasus hovering above the other three. As expected, the earthpony was in the front while the two unicorns took their positions further away from Connie's group. The black and white unicorn mare pointed at each member and at a spot on the ground, making them form a wiggly line with Bubbles on the left side and herself on the right.
"Ready?" she called out to the enemies who saluted as one. Taking a deep breath, Connie muttered, "Don't fuck this up, don't fuck this up, don't fuck this up. GO!"
Anvil roared and charged. The earthpony in the front line quickly reached into his saddlebag and lobbed something towards her. Black, choking smoke blinded the minotaur, but she managed to take a deep breath before rushing through the thick haze. Emerging on the other side of the cloud of gas, she found herself faced with not the earthpony, but one of the unicorns who switched positions with him. Prepared for assaulting a strong but slow target, Anvil dug her hooves into the ground in order to turn around and block a flying sword instead. Connie's plan was failing from step one.
The unicorn who stayed behind waved his hoof glowing bright blue in tune with his horn, and five sparkling balls appeared above him. He pointed at Anvil turning around frantically to keep blocking or dodging a weapon being levitated with much more agility then she could muster. The only good point for her was that such quick bursts of movement required the controlling unicorn to be standing still and focusing. The mage pointed at Anvil and...
...was immediately dropped as Bubbles covered by the smoke as well shot out like a bullet and ended the fight for him like a hungry timberwolf with her smaller mouth full of needles stopping short of decapitating him. The hovering magic projectiles dissipated in accordance with the mage being out of the fight. Bubbles looked around for a new target when another vial splattered over her muzzle, this one emitting a cripplingly strong acrid smell. The wizard Bubbles was standing on gagged and choked, but the abomination herself pawed helplessly at her muzzle, running in circles and rolling on the grass trying to recover from nasal overload that took her completely by surprise.
With that going on, Connie's bolt of telekinetic pressure hit the hovering pegasus in his ear while another one struck a point underneath his wing. He immediately lost all balance and plunged to the ground. Astray saw the disoriented pony's fall and rushed over
"Earthpony alchemist, smart job putting him forward to pretend he's the front line. Too bad none of my idiots noticed him being unarmed," Connie grinned to herself. She knew what the deal was, she just couldn't tell the others to assure the integrity and surprise factor of the team exercise.
Charging straight at the earthpony, Connie predicted him reaching for his bag yet again and put more telekinetic pressure on his hoof when he pulled out another doubtlessly incapacitating concoction. The vial cracked in his grasp, sending black semi-sentient webbing wrapping around his own legs and mouth and tying him up completely before he could even scream.
From the corner of her eyes she saw a flash of grey, and only her quick reflexes allowed her weapon to block the sword flying her way. With widening eyes she noticed Anvil lying on the grass, tapped out, then something hit her behind, stinging like a bolt of lightning.
She was hit by a practice crossbow bolt, which meant she was out as well. The bolts were made by a Royal Guard design, having a pink pom-pom of something stupidly sticky that stung like all hells instead of a sharp head. Where did it come from, though?
She looked around at the results of the lost fight.
Connie could sympathize with Bubbles still retching while being gently patted by the unicorn she 'took out' offering her his water bottle. The alchemical artillery was always a nightmare to fight against but also to use, because any quick thinking unicorn would do to a pony attempting ot use potions the same thing Connie did to the earthpony still helplessly rolling around wrapped in a black cocoon. The basic version of the 'potion' lasted only a minute or two, and wasn't really dangerous. The more potent ones could crush a bound target's bones.
She looked at Anvil sitting up, massaging her abs. The minotaur caught her stare and frowned.
"I noticed too late he was levitating a dagger as well as the longsword," she huffed, "Damn cheating unicorns."
Contradiction wasn't too mad about that one, Anvil almost bought her enough time to go through with her plan. That, and telekinetic dual-wielding was an extremely difficult style of fighting but an evenly rewarding one. Someone facing it for the first time had little to no chance of winning against an experienced or at least trained user. But what got her from behind? She turned around-
"OH SUCK A THOUSAND DRAGON COCKS!"
-and screamed.
Astray was on his back, being straddled by the pegasus toying with his crossbow.
"HOW? How in burning flames of hell did a concussed pegasus freaking beat you?" she threw her forelegs towards the sky, "You know what?" she stopped the satyr opening his mouth, "I don't even want to know. You are by far the worst piece of meat anypony could have thrown my way. Even some dumb farmer could just smack his head few times with a shovel and survived the encounter, but you...! I just don't get it, Cromach told me you were suicidal, but do you want ME to end you? Because if you do then just say it right here and now. I will report is as a training accident and find some new idiot who can at least stop a STUNNED ENEMY!"
The white glow of her telekinesis ripped the stuck 'crossbow bolt' off along with some hair on her behind as she stood up.
"I'm tired of this, I'm tired of always having to work with new trash who mess everything up the first second they can. I'm tired of always-" she shut up, walking off, "Screw this, I think I know enough about you for now. This was just an experiment anyway, I hope Cross accidentally bashes your brains out later, you worthless piece of crap."
Astray knew full well the last part was not aimed at Anvil, who lacked skill but not determination or strength, nor Bubbles, who didn't really grasp the more complex concepts of existential failure, but at him. He was sure that losing the fight was not the issue, it was the way he himself lost it for the others.
"I'm tired of it, of losing due to no fault of my own. This stupid body, stupid company, stupid Canterlot zombie, stupid, unattractive, unwanted piece of shit," Connie said to herself when she was sure nopony else heard.
A large hand landed on Astray's head when Contradiction and the opposing group left, ruffling his grey hair.
"He waited," Astray mumbled to Anvil squatting next to him, "Whatever she did didn't stun him. He just waited until I came close and then kicked me in the balls. I dropped like a bag of sand."
"Props to him for hitting a target of that size," Anvil sneered.
"I guess..." he just sighed.
"Look. I don't know who pissed in her morning coffee, but she's unreal today. I'm gonna have a word with the big guy. You coming?"
Astray couldn't be more in shock if he chewed through an electric wire.
"What? No! You can't do that! It's just... I'm bad. I know I'm bad at all this. It's not her fault, it's mine! You'll just make it worse. I just need to work harder, get better faster so I'm at least a bit closer to you and Bubbles. I did ruin it for you-"
Her hand grasped his hair, pulling him unwillingly upwards. Forcing him to look up into her eyes as she leaned down, she said:
"Spineless. Coward."
His eyes teared up at the truth.
"But I'm not," Anvil added, pushing his head away, "No one can reach the results she wants in a week. Especially with no skill and previous physical training. This is not teaching nor practice, this is raw abuse. She might have snapped but I must admit the griffon upstairs seemed to know his stuff. If he sides with her then I misjudged them both and they aren't worth my presence here."
Astray just whimpered as the minotaur left. He was sure nothing good would come out of it.
Two hours later, Contradiction entered Cromach's office and saluted under the white griffon's stern and inquisitive stare.
"I have a complaint here about your reportedly abusive behaviour towards your teammates today. Got anything to say about it?"
"What, did Astray run whining straight to you after he completely boned us during the squad training? I should have known."
Cromach raised an eyebrow at the animosity in Connie's low tone of voice. His talons drummed on his wooden desk.
"No, actually, he did not. The minotaur, Anvil, did. She said your demands ranged from unreasonable to downright impossible, and when not being met you 'went full straightjacket' at her teammate. Her words, not mine. You know her better than I do by now, but Anvil didn't seem to me like one to lie, rather like one to tell you when you're being an idiot no matter status or situation. On top of that, she enjoys laughing at somepony else's expense which is why I doubt she would go straight to me if it wasn't serious."
Connie took a deep breath, thinking about her next words in the lengthening silence.
"Astray could barely finish three rounds of sargeant Cross' personal gauntlet, and then he got taken out by a stunned pegasus during the teamfight practice. Don't tell me he didn't deserve a bit of yelling."
"You know that Cross' course is exceedingly difficult in order to test stamina, strength, and agility of someone who was made, literally, for battle and survival and has access to changeling love energy reserves. Even I can do hour and a half tops there. If Astray made it through multiple rounds without any prior experience then you should commend him, not threaten to hang him. Speaking of which, how many did you do?"
She bit her lip.
"Four... almost. Then I passed out."
"And this is your second year here. You've been with us nearly from the beginning and you're trying to make a young satyr run through a gauntlet not meant for a biped when he's not been around for even a week. Why?"
"BECAUSE HE CAN DO MORE! BECAUSE HE'LL BE ABLE TO DO MORE! BECAUSE HIS BODY WASN'T MADE TO BE SHIT!" she screamed in his face.
"Connie, I've known you for a while now. That's not you. What's wrong?"
"No, sir, that's exactly me. That's the problem," he voice cracked and she sniffled, wiping her eyes, "The mage at the ceremony almost killed you. I couldn't do pretty much anything. The damn zombie he had with him would have killed me if some spell cast inside the mansion didn't stop her. I need the idiots to get stronger faster because I sure as all fucking hells can't protect you!"
Cromach stared in complete surprise as Connie continued:
"I couldn't stop Blaze from dying, I couldn't stop Three from dying, I couldn't stop Walter from dying, I couldn't stop-"
"Connie, you saved me," he walked from behind his desk, grabbed her by her shoulders, and looked into her each differently coloured eye, "I couldn't stop them from dying either. Cross couldn't. Shadowstep couldn't. Blaze couldn't..."
"Bu- but you said we needed a unicorn, back at the mansion, not me, and you were right. I couldn't track where the mage teleported. I just got drunk and nearly got both of us killed."
"No, what I said was the stupidest thing I could and even then I didn't mean it in the way you think. You. Saved. Me. Without you I would have been fried chicken. The Royal Guard still hasn't tracked the mage, and they have experts. Aaaand from what I heard the guard you threw up all over wasn't that mad," he gave Connie an encouraging smile followed by a tight hug.
She couldn't resist feeling safe in his embrace and chuckled in response.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not the one to apologize to, Connie. Just trust me when I say that I appreciate you being around. You have a rare talent-"
"Defect," she mumbled.
"-TALENT. It has drawbacks you are fighting through and you are far from done. Your teammates are not perfect, but it's your job as a leader to inspire them to do something, not force them to do it. I might be an idealist, but that's how I see it. You'll grow into a beautiful and absurdly powerful mare one day, and I completely realize I'm just five years older than you while saying this. Ehm..."
"Can I grow into her with you?" she squeaked weakly.
"You'll have a place here with the Order as long as you want to."
She sighed, pushing him away. That wasn't really the answer she was hoping for, but also not the one she was dreading. Connie decided to look at things from the positive side for today.
"Thank you, sir. I think I have a lot to do and think about."
"No more crazy threats to your teammates?"
"I'll try to control myself in times of their failure."
Cromach rolled his eyes. Connie chuckled.
"One last thing, food for thought as you ponies say," the griffon sat back down into his chair.
"Yes?"
"Now you know exactly how Fortune felt when her whole first team died in front of her. Remember how you chewed her out for it over and over and over? You two are really similar, down to your... unusual interest in me."
Connie stared, completely frozen. Then she just nodded and left without a word while her head worked through what Cromach had said.
Back inside her room, she finally opened a window and let a breath of fresh air in. She could hear every outdoor noise of training recruits and bustling Manehattan. Nopony could see inside through drawn curtains billowing in soft wind. After few comparative sniffs of the heavy air hanging around, Connie had to admit it was about time to do that. Sitting down on the bed, she levitated a box from underneath it, the piece of cardboard being responsible for the state of her private quarters. Well, the contents, not the box itself.
"Heh, he called me beautiful..." the unicorn smiled to herself, rummaging through the rubber and silicone replicas in her private toy box. The majority of the toys inside were griffon-shaped privates, but few pony, dragon, diamond dog, and even some ones belonging to a purely imaginary species were also around.
She levitated a griffon one, staring at it.
"Walter... I really thought that I wanted Cromach to be just a replacement for you, but I was wrong. I'm crazy about him, literally apparently. What would you say to me in this situation?"
The battered and obviously frequently used dildo, understandably, didn't answer.
Her gaze turned from the toy towards a shimmering rusty feather lying on the bedside table. As Connie levitated it up, the rust from the feather bled away into the air, forming a smokey shape of a young griffon of the same colour. She stared at Walter Grant's image before putting the feather back down on the table, making the life-sized image dissipate. Connie sighed, she knew that dwelling on the past and on the ones already dead was pointless, but some memories were hard to let go.
She levitated a different, although still griffon, toy. A shamefully treasured one on top. It was Cromach's replica she took one night about two months after Crom's lover's death. The griffon had drunk far too much in those days, well, all days since the death until Anvil, Astray, and Bubbles arrived. She had found him passed out in his office, brought a molding kit previously used on Walter, although that time it had been with his amused consent, and after some 'persuasion' made a good enough likeness of the part she wanted. It wasn't the biggest one or the thickest one she had by far, but it was his.
Perhaps her boss was right in assuming her feelings were unhealthy.
She shrugged. A pony of her 'astonishing social skills' took what she could, where she could, and when she could. Putting Cromach's replica back in the box, she levitated yet another shape. This one looked like a heavy, steel, upside down teardrop with a curved base it stood on. Damn Fortune had noticed Connie having it inside her during the ceremony, but... what was anypony's business with what Connie did to herself, right? Her reputation hinged on being good with weapons, skilled in combat, and a pretty decent accountant. What did it matter if recruits or anypony else considered her a perverted freak?
After some persuasion she managed to fit it where Celestia doesn't reach, reveling in the added weight and stretched insides. Some ponies used weights on their legs during training for better results. Connie considered those ponies both too puritanic, and not ambitious enough. She trained her everything.
At least that was her excuse.
Spending the rest of her free time in the garden maze behind the mansion adjacent to Cross' training grounds, she was the first one to arrive to the scheduled weapons training with the changeling hybrid himself.
Cross' usual disguise was that of a tall, black, sinewy but muscular batpony currently 'wearing' light blue mane, eyes, and tail, although as he knew any observant batpony would see through him. His wings were just a little too big, his shape a little too well toned and fit, and the final clue would be the fact that he could levitate weapons without a horn, of course. Cross' disguise was created to accentuate all batpony features without actually limiting himself to them. The air of absolute calm confidence around him told anyone able to read such signs that this changeling had been through hell and back so often he got a free lifetime ticket.
"Glad to see you back with us sane ponies," he saluted, laughing to himself. Connie knew he didn't mean anything bad by it, Cross wasn't the type.
"Ready to get my ass kicked, sargeant."
"Hmm," Cross raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't want to stub a hoof, miss Contradiction. A steel plug, really?"
"Is it that obvious?" Connie blushed, her previous determination that her business was just her business draining away fast.
"I am a changeling, at least partially. You are practically wrapped in the scent of lust. Plus, you've tried pulling this off times before. I distinctly remember Fortune teasing you for it repeatedly. Are you sure you want to wear something like that during training?"
"Yes," Connie nodded. It was dumb, dumb, dumb and impractical, but she couldn't just take it back now.
"As you wish. Since you are already here, care to go for a round before the others arrive?"
"Sure."
"What weapon do you want to go against?" Cross nodded towards an already prepared crate full of standard training fare.
"Honestly, after what happened at the ceremony I'd like to go against somepony using combat horseshoes."
"Alright, although I believe Antares would be a better sparring partner in this particular case."
"Will he be joining us?"
"Eventually. Cromach wanted to dust off his skills and will be using a patch of unoccupied lawn next to ours."
"I'll ask him later then. Let's go with swords for now."
Cross levitated a simple longsword while Connie opted for her usual oversized version. Thanks to her telekinesis which was the only point she had over Cross she held her own for few moments, but a dull blow to her neck ended the practice quickly. She could move her sword faster in the air, but Cross' telekinesis was precise, with no wasted movements, and the changeling himself could move around and dodge easily while she had to split her attention between him and his weapon. He was simply a thousand, no, a million times better than she would ever be. Life spanning centuries had its advantages, the greatest of which was insurmountable experience.
Astray, Anvil, and Bubbles arrived, although the first one walked with visible uncertainty when he noticed Connie sweating while lying on her back with Cross's blade returning to him after yet another beating.
"Bubbles first," Connie ordered, getting up, "you need experience more than stamina training since you can outlast all of us. Anvil next, Astray last so we can recover from having our asses kicked while Cross points out every single mistake he spots."
Astray gritted his teeth and Anvil frowned which didn't escape Connie's eyes, and she added:
"So that we can all learn something."
That earned her an apprasing raised eyebrow from the minotaur and a confused look from the satyr.
Connie had to reconsider her words when Cross transformed into a common diamond dog in order to teach Bubbles some wilder combat. The two blurs rushing around, biting each other and throwing one another around using claws weren't too great examples of something a pony or a tool-using biped could learn.
Bubbles rose from the ground, head spinning and eyes crossed.
"Dizzeeeee..." she flopped down again, admitting defeat.
Cross transformed into a unicorn, levitating her to the patch of grass where the rest of the group were relaxing. The practice was supposed to have three rounds. Each fight ended when Cross' opponent was either 'killed' or unable to move, then a new opponent would come, and when everyone took their turn, the next round would start.
Cross' unicorn transformation was to deal with Anvil who had proven before to have serious issues with flying weapons and agile enemies. She raised her two-handed mace and her personal nightmare began. At least it was over rather quickly when she took a wrong step and with only the slightest use of telekinesis Cross tripped her up.
"Damn cheaters!" the minotaur, lying on her back with Cross' sword on her thick neck, "How am I supposed to win if all you do is run away while a damn flying razor as following me?"
"Experience, young lady," Cross shook his head, "Unicorns usually have an attack pattern designed to surprise you. The more experience you have, the harder that becomes. You may have noticed that whenever you turned towards me to hit me with your mace, my sword was directly behind you. I could have easily switched it up, but you kept falling for it over and over. Dodging while using precise telekinesis is difficult even for a trained unicorn so they usually go for a single practiced move which you have to read and deflect. In short, use your head instead of your hands, Anvil."
"Well, the amount of muscle in each is about even," Astray snorted, covering his mouth. Everyone aside from Anvil chuckled. The minotaur shot the satyr a murderous glare.
"Yeah? You have a go then, smartass! The day I see you do better than me is the day I'll know I drank too much mead," she barked.
"Calm your enormous tits, Anvil," Connie stood back up, levitating her greatsword, "You can dish out the roasting but you better learn to take it. It's my turn anyway."
As she faced Cross, Astray did notice the unexpected glint of steel under Connie's tail, making him turn his head and blush. Where did he go wrong in his life to end in a company of a unicorn who hated him, a minotaur who considered him a mote of dust, a changeling in whose presence he was less than a fly, and a half-demon mare who considered him a source of free scratchies? Oh wait, it was because he was himself - Astray.
The sparring between Cross and Connie took significantly longer than anything preceding it, and while the satyr tried to discover some patterns in the use of their flying weapons, his attention turned more to Cromach arriving with another griffon, this one in full grey. Well, not a griffon but another disguised changeling. The two watched the training for few seconds before bowing to each other and starting their own unarmed practice. Now that was something that made Astray's eyes go wide with amazement. He hated the idea of hurting others, mostly because of the belief that his own life wasn't worth endangering the life of anypony else, but if he could fight like Cromach and Antares then he could defend himself without killing.
"Yo, stop daydreaming and come get your fair share of pain," Connie, limping back to the resting spot called out to Astray.
"Fine, fine," he mumbled, "Not like I can barely move from this morning anyway..."
"Stop whining, stick figure," Anvil commented.
"I know, I know. Enemies won't wait for me to be in a good shape either," Astray swung his sword. He had thought about using a shield as well, but he liked the utility of being able to grab somepony in close quarters.
"Exactly," Cross circled around him, focused, and-
Poof!
-a perfect copy of Astray down to the long grey hair around his fetlocks looked at the original satyr. After a second or two, the copy's abs rose through the belly skin, his shoulders broadened slightly, and muscles all over the body came to prominence. Cross now looked sort of how Astray hoped he might with enough effort. Cross' sword ended in his new hand, and the changeling gave it few practice swings.
"Interesting form," Cross said in Astray's voice, "We've tried it the usual way before, but let's give this a shot."
Astray ended on his butt after a short exchange when Cross attacked, punched, and tripped him up at the same time.
"I'm starting to like the reach and utility of this body," the changeling said to himself, "Something ponies lack heavily."
"Umm, well, that's mine, though," Astray jumped back up.
"Well, then come and take it," the satyr's improved copy gave its original an evil grin. Astray had sometimes imagined what it would feel like to be useful, skilled, and confident. Now it all stood in front of him, so close he could reach out and touch it.
He failed. Of course he did. Even scratching Cross was far beyond his skill.
After two more rounds of everyone getting their asses handed to them by shapeshifting Cross, Astray had to ask:
"Is it actually possible for me to fight you on even terms, you know, ever?"
"No," Cross said simply, returning all used weapons back to the crate.
"Oh," Astray nodded. He obviously couldn't do that. Cross's batpony wing patted his back comfortingly, "Huh?"
"Be glad about that, young satyr," said Cross, "I was created by bloody magical rituals to be the superweapon I am now. I have lived over half a millenium fighting griffons, ponies, dragons, changelings, everything that tried to kill me. If I am ever serious, you will never beat me, Anvil will never beat me, demonic being like Bubbles will never beat me, a telekinetic prodigy like Contradiction will not even scratch me, Antares with all his experience and age will never beat me. I have myriads of magical weapons, trinkets, armors we gathered over ages at my disposal. Maybe, just maybe, if I taught Cromach for centuries he might get close to harming me, but divine power works in strange ways. I have energy reserves my changeling part stores from adoration, respect, and friendship of my students, friends, and those I consider family. I know tactics, strategy, fighting styles nopony uses anymore. Beating yourself up over not standing even with me is pointless, Astray. Learn from me instead, you are a worthy student no matter what any pony or pile of muscle says," he gave the satyr a friendly smile with a hint of mischief and satisfaction born from Anvil's undignified huff, "I have yet to meet a being who could best me in terms of skill, and I fear for the fate of those I am protecting if I ever find one."
"Umm," Astray hesitated, "I hope you don't take this personally, but I'd rather learn from master Antares."
"Oh, was I too harsh with you?"
"No, nonono," Astray raised his hands defensively, "I... want to learn to defend myself, not to kill. The close combat he offers is more of that sort."
"Don't be decieved, he can be as deadly as I am for someone like you."
"Feh," Anvil snorted, "Your body isn't made for martial arts, weakling, trust me. Unless you are strong like me or fueled by unnatural energy like the changelings, don't waste your time with hand-to-hand combat. You will lose to anyone with a sharp or ranged weapon."
"And who made you an expert?" grey talons tap at her shoulder. Antares had obviously caught the debate and felt the need to correct the minotaur strong enough to take a break in his sparring with Cromach.
"I ripped a frost wolf in half, changeling, and wrestled a polar bear," Anvil pushes his talons off of her and stands up, "Your mystical mumbo jumbo about inner power is nonsense. You are either strong and have experience in close combat, or you are weak and fall before the strong one no matter what you know. It's about strength and speed, and if I have a dagger while you only have your talons, I win."
For everyone else, watching Antares' smug smile grow was akin to watching an impending train wreck. They knew what had to come, but they couldn't avert their eyes.
"Sooo," Antares cracked his talons and neck, "Let's say I give you a real weapon of your choice, and I don't use my love reserves to become stronger or tougher. Are you up for giving your words a little weight, or are you just blowing smoke? We have very good healers here in the Order, and I am an old changeling. I think I can survive your attempt to incapacitate me."
"It's your funeral, grandmaster Antares," Anvil shrugged, "I think the dagger would be appropriate. Or a short sword, I know the kind of toothpicks you ponies consider daggers."
"Cross, will you?" the grey 'griffon' nodded to the 'batpony'. A short sword materialized in front of Anvil who plucked it from mid-air.
Cromach facetaloned, Astray facepalmed, Connie facehoofed, and Cross facewinged. Bubbles kept grinning.
Anvil very, very clearly recalled her insulting Cromach on the first day as she flew through the air in a lovely long arc ending with her face meeting the grass with a crunch. She didn't get up, instead opting for bleeding her confusion and concussion out on the grass.
"Welp, that should shut you up," Antares, untouched, dusted several strands of minotaur hair off himself, "Now for you, satyr."
"Me?" Astray completely forgot what started the whole thing for a second under Antares' stern glare.
"No, my mummified grandmother," the griffon rolled his eyes, "What the muscle-for-brains said was partially true, you need to be strong to counter somepony else's strength. You can't block or deflect a blow if you aren't on somewhat comparable level of physical strength unless they are blatantly stupid. BUT, even bigger but than the minotaur one you kept peeking at when you thought she wasn't looking, is that skill, agility, and speed can overcome that strength difference to an extent. And no, there is no mystical inner strength mumbo jumbo. There is only harsh training which I will gladly impart on you."
"Thank... you?" Astray was still coming to terms with how easily Anvil got destroyed.
"Heheheh," Antares' expression turned evil, "You will hate me, not thank me... at first. My condition is that you go with Cross' training as well. I will not go easy on you, Cross will not go easy on you, your teammates will not go easy on you. You will have to find the time and strength to do all that without failing your current duties. Still not dropping bricks into your pants?"
"All I can do is give my all, sir," Astray smiled weakly at the prospect of pain upon more pain.
"Well, if you want to screw us over like that then go for it," Anvil finally gathered herself, wiping her bleeding muzzle off and speaking with unusual hostility, "You could barely do the basic physical training and without my massages you wouldn't even stand on your own after two days. A wealking like you must focus on one thing and learn to do it well instead of learning a bit here and there. You'll just be a burden to us all if you do that. I'm not going to waste my time every evening on you."
Astray closed his eyes. She was, of course, right. He could focus on Cross' weapon training now and learn hand-to-hand when he could at least hold his own, but...
...but he reminded himself he wasn't worth the spilled blood of others and never would be.
"Then thank you for helping me this far, Anvil," he said in complete seriousness. She threw her hands to the sky and groaned in frustration, "Master Antares, is there really a chance for me?"
"Pfff," the griffon stuck his tongue out, "Don't worry about chances of success. The road is more important than the goal or whatever. I've never been one for stupid sayings, they oversimplify the effort put into things too much. Oh, one final thing!" Antares smiled brightly, something Astray would learn to hate and fear soon enough, when everypony started to get their things and return to their rooms for the evening, "I said you were going to be doing both trainings."
"Of course-" Astray looked at him questioningly, but was interrupted.
"Starting now!" Antares wiggled his eyebrow.
"Enjoy yet another failure," Anvil spat out, leaving without turning her head.
Night fell on Manehattan.
Bubbles was asleep and Anvil was reading her history tome. The door clicked open, revealing Astray covered in dried blood, black bruises, scratch marks, dirt, and smelling of sweat.
"You smell worse than Canterlot beer and look as if you escaped a griffon butcher-"
Thud!
She stared at the collapsed satyr lying on his stomach, shook her head, and jumped up from the bed to see if he was breathing. It was there, shallow and irregular, and Astray was clearly out of it. In his shape it must have been a miracle he walked up the stairs.
Picking him up and throwing him onto his top bunk, she sighed at his stupidity.
"You might not have a brain or cock, but sometimes you show some serious balls. I wonder how soon you'll give up and quit."
"Haaah!" Black Shield's suddenly working lungs took in a serving of air normally associated with deep sea divers.
Like a spark of light out of nothingness, Shield's consciousness returned. She thrashed around, looking in panic for the attacking black and white unicorn...
...and finding herself instead inside the same laboratory where Secret Seeker had reanimated her some time ago.
There was no threat nearby. No monstrously strong griffon, no unicorn who slashed and ripped Shield to pieces with her mind, nopony but her 'master' patiently watching her spasming with unamused expression and levitating some sort of needle made from obsidian. As soon as she realized, to her slight disappointment, that her unwanted servitude still wasn't over, Shield calmed down and examined her body. There were clear stitched wounds where the unicorn at the ceremony had torn her to pieces, the biggest ones being around her leg and a long sowing mark across her barrel.
"Oh damn," the details of the fight resurfaced in Shield's mind, "Did she really cut me in half? Like, with telekinesis. How is that possible? Wait, did you scoop up my insides as well, or does this body work without them just fine? Wait, did you kill them? If you did, I'm gonna do nothing but sit here because, you know, your stupid spell, but I'll be giving you a really harsh stare!"
"Alright, body is working. Maybe some lingering brain damage," Secret Seeker shrugged, "or maybe it's just because she's an earthpony," he turned around, walked over to his chemistry table and started toying with something small, "Back to work it is..."
"Hey!" Shield jumped off of the steel table and joined Seeker who was bathing one of the stolen rings in various chemical concoctions. As she walked, Shield noticed something was off about her balance, "Did my ass get bigger, you perv?"
"Maybe you should exercise more," Seeker said non-committally, "And eat less sweets."
"If you wanted more jiggle while humping somepony you should have reanimated a zebra," Shield huffed, experimentally kicking her hind legs. She wasn't feeling slower or weaker, more like the exact opposite, "Though this backside would make Celestia turn her head in wonder."
Secret Seeker sighed and rolled his eyes.
"You're not going to let me work unless I sate your curiousity, right? Well-developed glute muscles are the basis for good running, agility, or balance if you are trying to fight while standing upright. On top of that, if you kick somepony now they won't be standing up, ever. Understood?"
Shield poked her behind. Seeker was telling the truth, it was tough, resilient, and powerful muscle, but... there was a soft, plush feeling right under the skin and coat. On top of that, Seeker could have just told her to shut up and not bother him which would have worked just fine while she was controlled by the spell. He liked to hear himself talk and present his knowledge which was admittedly vast. Definitely an academic type, her master. Yet another trait to abuse, because smart ponies with big egos never even think they might make a mistake.
"If you care only about my combat prowess and can obviously do some crazy stuff with my body, why not just give me tough skin or something? I wasn't much of a threat to the damn unicorn."
"Tough and heavy skin means slower movement. Whoever the unicorn was, she clearly suffered from thaumic suppression, an incurable disability making unicorn's overly powerful telekinesis block their magic and making their body fragile. Most unicorns with it either die or commit suicide out of insanity caused by the difference between what their body tells them they are and what they really are. It's similar with pegasi who can't fly, but with unicorns it's more mental, thus devastating. That unicorn was indeed an interesting case, though. To me it looked as if she took complete control of her condition, got rid of her magic, and focused on the telekinesis. She was definitely a well physically trained pony. Perhaps there is a way of working with the disease that is not generally known, and someone used this secret to help her. That is my best guess."
"Plus, groping my plot wouldn't be as amazing if it was hard like dragon scales, right?"
"That was the part you focused on?" Seeker huffed.
"Nope, that's the part you focus on," Shield stuck her tongue out.
Seeker's telekinetic grip crushed a hovering vial.
"Alright!" the wizard growled, "I wanted to give you some time to recover, but it looks like you are juuust fine already. On the table!" he ordered sharply.
"You do realize I can't feel physical pain and killing me just sets me free, don't you?" Shield jumped back up on the operating table and lay on her back.
"I hate you so much..." Seeker whispered.
"Heard tha-" she saw a silvery blur near her behind, then a strange sensation of discomfort. She bent her neck to look between her hind legs where Seeker was levitating the obsidian needle again and also dragging something long and obviously heavy on the floor, "Hey, that was my tail! What gives?"
"Shut up before I attach this thing the wrong way around!" Seeker barked. Shield's mouth closed automatically and didn't allow her any more jabs at her master's expense.
Stabs of 'cold heat' was the only way she could describe what was going on back there. She watched quietly as Seeker pressed the long floppy thing where the dock of her tail used to be, and started his magical sowing. It took forever, but the unicorn was precise, methodical, and patient. Without any clock around or any way to tell time at all in this underground cellar laboratory, Shield had no clue how long it really took, but when she felt new weight on her hindquarters and her brain started registering some sort of appendage she knew it was almost done.
"Phew!" Seeker wiped his forehead, "It's still difficult, even if one doesn't have to care about a living subject's survival. You can stand back up now. Be careful not to flop over and mess up my lab."
"Holy fires of Celestia's sun!" Black Shield stared, mouth agape. Where her nice and fluffy pony tail used to be, there now was a long, prehensile, scaly tail the length of her entire barrel ending in some sort of stinger. That explained yet another reason for her expanded size of booty muscles, because the tail had to be extremely tough and very heavy. It slithered in the air, twitching and coiling as Shield's head was getting used to transmitting commands through new nerves.
Shield swished the tail left, it went right with much greater force than expected, trashing a steel tray full of surgical implements.
"Wait a second!" Shield thought to herself.
She carefully checked several more responses of her tail, and then...
...she wrapped it around Secret Seeker and threw him at the nearest wall. The crunch of bones was a heavenly rewarding sound. She now knew what she had to do, aimed the stinger at the unicorn, and...
...nothing.
As soon as she learned how her new bodypart worked, the controlling spell prevented Shield's clear killing intent from turning into desired movement.
Secret Seeker, bleeding from his mouth, groaning, and coughing, slowly gathered himself from the floor and smashed remains of shelves and glassware. Shield's mind worked overtime. The unicorn shook his head in confusion as her tail wrapped around his barrel and helped him get back on all fours.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, "It's weird to control this thing."
"No... problem... just... need... healing... spell... or ten..." Seeker limped over to a shelf in the corner and drank a vial of red liquid. His breathing calmed down and his walk became steady again.
Shield decided to remember this situation very clearly in case Seeker wanted to give her a different enhancement at some point, because it was possible to confuse the control spell. She just needed one more opportunity, and she wouldn't hesitate anymore. Just one clear chance to kill Secret Seeker. But for that, she either needed to earn his trust a little more, or get once again into a position where her current shape wasn't sufficient.
"What now?" she asked.
"Drink this, try not to gag and spill it," the unicorn offered her a keg of some green goo.
"If you want me to have enough lung capacity to deepthroat your-"
"ENOUGH!" Seeker moaned in annoyance, "You don't need to breathe too much anyway. The potions I pumped into you every day took care of that. This is rare changeling ichor we recovered from the throne room after the invasion. With some experimental magical treatment it should result in an interesting enhancement."
"I'll be able to shapeshift?" Shield's eyes bulged.
"Of course not. I wouldn't want you to destroy the body I so painstakingly crafted anyway. It should give you the hardened armor plating around your barrel Chrysalis has. Now chug, I don't have all day to talk to you."
"Oh Celestia why?" Shield choked after the first huge gulp, "Why didn't you melt off my taste buds? That's because I called you a perv, isn't it?" the goop was disgusting on so overwhlemingly many levels.
"Yes," Seeker nodded, "I would have given you a bit more warning or time to recuperate if you were a little more polite."
"Aaand done!" Shield squished the metal keg against her forehead. Seeker's mouth dropped along with everything he was levitating, "What? I was in college. This is nothing compared to what we broke students used to drink to get wasted. One time, we actually made moonshine from our used socks. I couldn't see the whole weekend. The goop was just a bit shocking at first."
Seeker glared.
Pressure around her barrel made Shield turn her head and watch curiously as green goo got secreted through her skin and coat, coagulating into a bright green, segmented corset covering her belly and back.
"Green?" she complained, thinking about her brown coat and faded blonde mane. Dark purple would have looked so much better. As soon as she said that to herself, the colour changed to her desired one, "Now that's what I call service."
Seeker glared harder.
"Anything else, maybe make my breasts like a minotaur's so you have something to grope while-"
"I'll kill you," Seeker growled.
"No, you won't," Shield smiled a wide, victorious smile. Her master was starting to shake with pure rage, "So... what now?"
"How about..." he whispered, "How about you finally shut up and let me work? Or better yet, clean up the mess you made."
"Wasn't my ribcage that broke all the shelves," Shield turned away from Seeker, hiding a wicked grin as he let out a frustrated combination of a curse, moan, and wheeze. She could sense his eye twitch. As her new tail wrapped around a broom and started sweeping the broken glass, she mumbled, "Master, master, master, master."
"I'LL STOP THAT ONE DAMN PROPERTY OF THE SPELL IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT!"
"Awww," Shield pouted as the pleasant lightning rushing through her crotch disappeared. She thought for a moment, "Got anything about unicorn telekinesis around? I'd like to know a way to at least stand even against the unicorn if we ever meet again."
A thrown tome smacked her hard in the face.
Black Shield knew she shouldn't read it, that she should keep herself from becoming a more powerful accomplice to Secret Seeker. Deep down, though, a bit of hurt pride at being completely powerless surfaced. She justified opening the book to herself by wanting to become better to earn Seeker's trust and new enhancements allowing her to kill him within the first seconds of confusion. She told herself all that, but she knew that all she wanted was to kick the black and white mare's ass.
She quietly read to herself as the broom with her tail coiled around it kept sweeping.
"A difference between using telekinesis on living and unliving subjects is that morphogenic field of living creatures interferes with telekinesis, making it weaker. Thus, it is much more difficult to levitate a pony than a rock of the same weight. Same goes for telekinetic shapes. A mental spike which would pierce a rock might lose its edge when aimed at living being. Unicorns can fight against morphogenic field by honing their mental strength and..."
She flipped few pages.
"Contrary to popular belief of non-unicorns and even unicorns with low control, telekinesis is not manifested as a field around the target, but as a point of contact between the mind of the user and the subject. A good comparison can be made with a griffon holding a sword in their talons. In the same way, a unicorn can hold the sword by its blade, but lose agility they would have gained by telekinetically holding it by its handle..."
Yep, that was exactly what Shield needed.