Nothing Will Stop Our Destiny

by Historicalbrony

The Spectre of Evil

It was a long and arduous journey up the mountains of the Equestrian continent to the high places where the Griffons lived. Unlike the Pegasi, who lived in the clouds above Equestria, the Griffons inhabited the mountainous regions of the continent, their thick set countenances and broad wings allowing them to glide through the harsh winds of the high altitudes. The Griffons were a proud and strong race. They had built a civilisation through harsh struggles, through hunger, sweat, and in some cases blood, to live in the high places where few other sentient species were willing to make their homes. Theirs was a nation steeped in a mythos not all that different from that of the Norse people of the human realms. They told stories of brave warriors who fought off fierce dragons, a race that had always been their mortal and sworn enemies. They told stories of giants and trolls, of fierce gods who created lightning and winds. Their heroes were those of fortitude, brute force, and courage, beings unafraid to stand up to giants and bullies. Beings who left the talking for later and the fighting for now. Heroes of patriotism and pride, for a people who felt they had much to be proud off.

They were a reserved, haughty, and in some cases arrogant people. Their friendship with the ponies was no doubt a genuine one, but it was a love-hate relationship even at the best of times. Many of the Griffons felt that the ponies were just a little too big on pomp and ceremony, and just a little too big for their boots. Many of the Griffons willfully underestimated the struggles which the Pony civilisation had gone through in order to build itself up, believing these struggles to be insignificant when compared to their own journey in the inhospitable mountains of the continent. The only race of ponies the Griffons came to truly respect were the pegasi. Both blessed with the gift of flight, the Griffons had a considerable respect for the warrior ethos and tough industrial culture of the Pegasi lands, believing it to bear a considerable resemblance to their own culture.

The Griffons, being a martial race, had also gained a reputation on the continent for their mercenary bands. Often formed with both Pegasi and Griffon members, these soldiers for hire had, centuries ago, strode the military continent like kings, garnering large amounts of money from any government or warlord that was willing to pay. Notorious for their treachery and brutality, they had played a key role in the anarchic Wars of the Races which had marked the founding of the modern Equestrian state. Indeed, it is widely reputed that the unicorn hiring of the Griffon mercenary bands proved vital in ensuring that the unicorn faction was not overwhelmed in the air war by the pegasi armies (the earth ponies had of course, created a number of flying contraptions resembling the human aeroplane to make up this deficit on their end). Many of these mercenary bands had gradually grown more specialised in the art of war, evolving into the famous assassin bands of lore. The most famous of these bands were named the Men of the Mountain, and they were led by their reclusive, ever-feared leader, known simply as the Old Man of the Mountain.

The Men of the Mountain were the assassins who went after the most dangerous, highest value targets. They killed kings and queens, commanders of armies, but most importantly, they killed the evil and insane witches and wizards that, in some of the darkest moments of the continent's history, plagued its people with dark magic.

In many cases the Men of the Mountain had proven to be the last resort of the continent's peoples against the forces of dark magic. When all open combat had failed, and it appeared the free realms of the Continent were to go down in flames to the anarchy and evil power of dark magic, wielded by this or that sorcerer, it was the Men of the Mountain who finally ended it all. Of course, Sombra was the most famous of the magician tyrants, but there had been many before and after him.

Perhaps the most famous kill of the Mountain assassins had been that of the mad witch Marvana. A prominent member of the Guardian Council of sorcerers, tasked with defending the Equestrian nation from the dark arts, Marvana had been plagued by recurrent nightmares that some speculated were brought on by the unwanted psychic intrusion of a Draconoqui (a race whose magic was equally, if not more powerful, than that of the Guardians). It is unquestionable, however, that Marvana was a sorceress particularly at risk of psychic intrusion, having suffered an unstable and at times violent childhood. Gradually, the dark presence in her mind led her across the royal library to the forbidden septs. It promised her a spell that would free her of her endemic nightmares and psychic disturbances.

To be certain, she had resisted for a time, but as she grew more mad it only became more difficult to escape the temptation of freedom. She knew the magic was black magic, but at a certain point she no longer cared, merely wishing freedom for herself and her frail pysche. And so she went in, but with the temporary banishment of the torment of the nightmares came only the hunger for power, an insatiable lust for control, a surrender to dark impulses. The spell would certainly clear her mind for a time, but when the nightmares inevitably returned, they only became more real, until she began only to see enemies around her, traitors, backstabbers. She cocooned herself, looking for safety in her dark powers, and she gradually became a lethal mix of evil and madness.

Dark magic feeds off the torment of souls, and different kinds of dark magic feeds off different kinds of torment. Discord's magic, as his name suggests, gains its power from discord in the world. Marvana's magic gained power from her own torment. Its intensity and strength gave those same attributes to her own spells, such that there were none who could stand before her in a battle of magic.

Except perhaps for one princess, Luna, whose broader awareness of the full spectrum of magic, both good and evil, made her a formidable opponent and defender against the dark forces. She of course, during this period however, had been consumed by those very dark forces which she had tampered with, and was absconding on the moon.

Celestia's magic, predicated as it was upon control and logic, could not match the sheer power of Marvana's wild, uncontrolled forces. It was clear that Marvana was not to be bested in a pure battle of magic. But it was her madness that ultimately proved to her undoing.

Knowing that the magical forces of the continent had failed to defeat Marvana in open battle, and witnessing the terror and destruction she was wreaking upon the land, Celestia realised that the only group of people who now stood a chance at defeating Marvana were the Men of the Mountain. For a foe not bested in open combat is to be bested only in stealth. But the service of the mountaineers was not to come free, especially for such a high value target. Indeed, it was to cost a figurative pound of flesh from the peoples of the continent.

Celestia undertook to lead a delegation with the other heads of the continent to meet with the Old Man of the Mountain, and to ask his price for his men's services. The leader of every kingdom, republic, and state on the continent came to the mountain as part of the delegation. The old alliances and rivalries had been thrown to the wayside in the face of a threat which seemed likely to engulf the entire world.

Which is what made the behaviour of the old man all the more amazing, for the logical among us will ask, if every person on the continent was threatened by the madness of Marvana, was not the old man himself as well threatened by her? But that is the nature of the work of assasins, their work requires an inherent disregard for life, and in the case of the most skilled assassins, that disregard must inevitably extend to their own lives.

The Old Man cared nothing for his life and nothing for the life of his men, much as he cared nothing for the lives of the countless dignitaries and notables he had killed at the hands of a dagger. Certainly, Marvana may have threatened him, but he cared nothing if he perished in her wake. He cared everything however, for money, and so in an act that must be considered one of infamy, he demanded from the suffering peoples of the continent a further pain upon their lives. He demanded a massive payment to cover the costs of assassinating Marvana, with the standard half up front, half when the deed was done.

He knew his bargaining position was impenetrable, for the mountaineers were the last hope of the peoples of the continent, and so it was that the leaders were forced to go back to their respective nations, and to demand from their people in this time of disturbance every last penny they held in their names, in order to pay the price of the assassins. And yet still, even after the privations of this extraordinary tax, even after the renewed famine and suffering it caused, the leaders still could not pay the half of the price they needed to cover the service of the Men of the Mountain.

And so the Old Man decided to put the peoples of the continent into a sort of bondage to him and his cabal. He agreed to carry out the task requested of his men, but only under the condition that the rest of his asking price be paid back as the lands of the continent recovered from the crisis of Marvana. He was to place his own men in each of the palaces of the continent, to watch each of the leaders as they carried out the harsh taxation that would be necessary to pay the price of the deed. Should they fail to live up to their obligations to the Old Man, his assassins would be ready to strike, and take in blood what the leaders could not pay in coin. The leaders were forced to agree, for they believed the liberation of the land from Marvana was priceless, worth even debt bondage to the cabal of assassins.

The Men of the Mountain carried out their deed successfully, ultimately using the negligence and chaos of Marvana's madness to their advantage. The assassins caught her in one of her fits of madness, as she experienced and was tormented by the recurrent nightmares which she faced. Although she normally cast around herself a protective spell designed to guard her from attack, during her fits of terror her magic became inconsistent as she struggled to control and maintain the coherence of its power. The perfectly honed reflexes of the assassins allowed for them to launch a surprise attack, casting a dagger doused in magic draining poison straight into her back during one of the brief periods where her cloak of protection was not in force. As she writhed in pain from this dagger, another assassin came and cut off her horn with an axe.

The horn was to be taken by the assassins as proof of the job's completion, and as a trophy to add to the Old Man's collections. The celebrations of the peoples of Equestria were muted however, with most believing that their leaders had only traded the tyranny of the mad Marvana for the bondage of the Men of the Mountain. And indeed, the Men of the Mountain were to, over the course of the next decade, exact a steep price for their services to the continent. The suffering of these times came to be as, if not more legendary, as the legend of Marvana.

Twilight looked across the mountainous landscape of the Griffon lands, off into the distance, to the legendary Mount Carvel, which was the home of the Men of the Mountain. "Celestia forbid" she said "if these times ever called upon us to use those men again." Boctath, her companion on this journey, a wizard on the Guardian Council, shuddered, for the name of those assassins had almost become unspeakable, considering the dark historical legacy they had left behind. "It would truly be desperate times that would call upon us to once again resort to such devices" he replied.

Twilight Sparkle looked up at the darkened sky. Stormclouds had formed above, and yet these was a conspicuous absence of rain as the dark clouds hung over the Griffon kingdom. Twilight Sparkle sensed the unspeakable, a disturbance in nature, a disturbance of the peace of these once proud people. She sensed dark magic, she sensed malign forces present upon these majestic mountain peaks. "Look at the sky Boctath, these are truly troubled times for our peoples. I feel something evil in this kingdom, but I can't pinpoint it." "The only real evil is the incompetence of the palace in these times of crisis, you still pray to Celestia and yet I find her guidance less and less present as time goes on," Boctath snidely replied.

Twilight Sparkle wheeled around to face him, stopping her gait dead in its tracks. "I don't think I need to remind you, how treasonous and dangerous such statements are from a wizard of the Guardian Council!", she sternly reprimanded. "Of course Princess, my sincerest apologies, merely making conversation," he backtracked. "I think we can do without further conversation, if I may, wizard, we are approaching the royal palace of Queen Matilda, so focus yourself and your abilities on sensing the environment around. There is danger here Boctath, tread carefully."

Twilight's senses had certainly not failed her, as it was indeed true that a dark spectre loomed over the Griffon kingdom. Queen Matilda, the head of a proud dynasty of warrior-monarchs, was tormented by a malign force quite similar to that force that had tormented Matilda. It was a force whose goal was to undermine her confidence and her strength, who aimed to build paranoia and fear within her, and who aimed ultimately to lay the Griffon kingdom low, and enslave it to new masters.

It was a most malign and despicable ambition, aided by the most despicable methods. By creating paralysis in the palace, this force aimed to ensure that the once proud Queen would be unable to lead her people in their hour of need. It undermined her faith in her friends and allies, it undermined her faith in her people, but most importantly, it undermined her faith in herself.

It was a force that would whisper to her day and night, at first only when she was alone, but eventually when she had company as well. The presence in the beginning was almost friendly and pleasant with her, giving new insights and sometimes even new knowledge for the queen to use in her duties. This early friendliness on the part of the presence made its turn towards negativity, fear, and threats all the more terrifying for the young queen, who began to be tormented by its constant voice within her mind. It was a voice that terrified her in her sleep, a voice that told her that her friends would abandon her, and that her real enemies lay in the Equestrian kingdom, a kingdom which he said was sure to betray her as time went on. He told her that the ponies viewed the Griffons as expendable appendages, to be discarded at their will. He told her that her supposed friends in the pony realm intended to enslave her people. He told her that that Griffon kingdom could trust no one in this time of crisis.

The presence was undermining the bonds of friendship that had united the Griffon and Pony races, at a time when that bond was never more important. For across the mountains, in the realm of the Dragons, the king of the Dragon realm, Toftir, plotted and prepared to take what he believed was the manifest destiny of all the dragons, the control of the all the high places on the continent.

The Griffon kingdom was not strong enough to withstand such an assault on its own, it needed the friendship of ponydom.

The presence, however, was more than just a voice, and it was the things which Matilda saw which terrified her even more than the voice. She saw a slithering in the night, she saw dark eyes staring upon her, she saw a form which was unstable, which would come to her one day as a man, and the next as a snake, and the next as a lion, and the next as a monster.

The most terrifying nights were when she would fall asleep, only to awake to see a presence standing above her bed, saying nothing, only watching her, relishing in her torment and struggle. For the presence loved her torment, it fed on her fear, and her pain, and her desperation. It was his unholy reward for his services to the enemies of the Griffon kingdom.

For this presence was a Draconoqui, of the same race as Discord. The Draconoqui cared little for politics, only being conscripted into the service of the Dragon kingdom for the price of the Griffon queen's torment. And yet his presence, his invasion of Matilda's sacred, royal palace had everything to do with politics. For the Dragon king was using the Draconoqui to lay the ground for his invasion of the Griffon realm. With no effective leadership, and its alliance with the ponies severed, the Griffons would prove easy pickings for the Dragon kingdom.

The people of the Griffon realm merely lived in a dark foreboding. Most of them understood that rebellion was pointless at best and folly at worst. For the Griffon people were not blessed with the magic of some other races, and so to rebel against a force employing dark magic would have been a folly of the most foolish kind. Even if the impotent, immobilised queen was overthrown in revolution, the Draconoqui would likely remain regardless, tormenting all future rulers of the kingdom. And so the Griffon people began to develop a feeling of fatalism, as if their fates and doom had already been set, and all that was left for them to do was to wait, as sitting ducks, for their eventual subjugation at the hands of their enemies.

It was this crisis in the Griffon kingdom that had precipitated the visit of the Twilight Sparkle to the realm. Alarmed at the loss of contact with the Griffon kingdom, one of the oldest and closest allies of the Equestrian nation, the Equestrian palace sent Twilight Sparkle in an attempt to rebuild the shaken relationship with the Griffons in anticipation of future conflict with the Dragon realm.

Little did she know that the coming battle of magic that she was to face would test her mettle in a way that few others would.

Author's Note:

And what do you know, I managed to come back to this story. Always was hoping to do so.

Hopefully the chapter is to the enjoyment of you all!

Comments

[Teraunce]

Too bad this story died before it could get good as that is some excellent cover art.