Bad Mondays

by Handyman

Interlude - Children of Men

There was always that low-sounding reverberation in these huge empty caverns beneath the surface, when the harsh wind blew and its icy claws dug into the earth wherever it might, and blustered and gusted and stormed its way downward into the earth as deep as it was able. All the while, the sound of these gales could be heard from miles off, giving an unsettling, constant ambiance even here, where the earth was still grey and cold from the frozen northlands above.

She trod along the path, ancient stonework, broken and covered in a layer of dirt from a millennia and a half of disuse, lining the way. The walls, so uneven and warped from the fires that raged here once upon a yesteryear, were indistinguishable from the grey rock that had intruded upon their sanctity, bursting through the sides of corridors and crashing down and blocking off other sections of this, the bowels of the ancient Castle Midnight.

She had never been here herself, of course, but she had heard of the rebellion and dimly recalled it through the mists of ages that clouded her mind. That was another thing true immortals did not need to worry about. They might forget, true, but they didn’t have to worry about memories becoming so old, and jumbled, and lost, and mixing together as she did. Merely another price she had to pay, she supposed, one of many for a fool’s bargain.

That was why she was here—she did not remember the sacking. She had not been here when the justicars and the imperial army in victory descended upon the keep, robbing and raiding and destroying as they went when great Tirek the Betrayer fell and was banished. No, she had not been here, but she knew who was. It was this one she sought out to remember, to recall her visage from the mists, to once again know the face of the one she hated out of envy and spite… and resentment for achieving what she could not.

The first stirrings of the long forgotten had been when Tirek had made his return. She had been surprised to learn he had been banished to Tartarus. What little she remembered of the Crystal Queen, mercifulness and magnanimity were not among her most noteworthy traits. Not in her eyes at least, so perhaps it had been her justicars who had counselled such… wisdom, or Tirek’s soft-hearted fool of a brother. Perhaps the alicorns regretted not killing the traitor when they had the chance.

And then there was this new one, her rebellious property, spawn of an abortive attempt to claim the weapon of another world and constant thorn in her side. To add injury to insult, he had stolen from her, not killed, stolen her acolyte. She had been in a fury then, but it had been made worse, so much worse in the wake of the debacle with the crown, something that had not been even remotely related to the human, yet he would involve himself! But the final straw had been when her… when Meranax had raised concerns over her drive to obtain what was hers.

The comparison she had made to how she acted now and how she was back then, and more fool her for confiding her concerns when she had met her when she was but a young dragon, had upset her. She had to know. Was there something that she recalled between the now and then that caused her to react unthinkingly? Something she responded to instinctively but her wits had not caught? It was worth investigating, especially since she was doing as… as it now instructed, for the sake of the deal they had made. For the sake of obtaining for herself the goal that all of this was working toward these past two thousand years.

Her breath frosted upon the air, for her body was warm, but it had been so long since she had taken note of either cold or heat that she looked upon the small cloud of air that passed her face with mild curiosity at seeing something strange and unfamiliar. Otherwise, she felt nothing. The way was dark and black, but she no longer needed the light to see things as they were. If she was right, then the victorious imperials in an age past, in a moment of whimsy, wonder, and drunk on their moment of triumph, and possibly just plain drunk, had in a blink of an eye erected a memorial here in the heart of the castle.

She turned a corner and could see a glint of light in the distance. Sensing she was near her target, she hurried her pace. Nopony was near here, here on the border of the rump state of the Empire and remorseless north of Henosia. Nopony lived here, for who would want to? Nopony ever came to these ruins, for what was there to find? She was in no danger. She never really was anymore.

She emerged from the dark corridors into the dimly lit interior of what had once been the ritual chamber, circular with a domed roof which had a spherical grate in the centre above. It allowed light to flow down a secret shaft built into the keep's interior, so that when the times were right, Tirek would perform his foul rites, or so the legends had said. Personally, she had no time for the mystical nonsense the tale purported. If Tirek had achieved even one of the things he had been alleged to attempt, he would have already become a god. She snorted and kicked a stray shard of crystal that had broken and lay on the floor before her. Still, the shaft, or rather what was left of it after the sacking had all but destroyed the magnificent castle, allowed what pitiful light from above to enter. That was all that was needed in order to see.

Crystals in immaculate, wave-like formation spread across the walls, blue in hue like ice, washing over the walls in a clockwise formation. They spiralled about the grate in the centre of the ceiling, obscuring and defacing the ritual engravings of the walls, rendering whatever power they might wield useless. The floor resounded with her hoofsteps like glass, a clean sheet of crystal covering its surface in reflective triangles of white and turquoise. Ah, but in the centre of the room lay the main site, the sign of the queen's victory. In pink and red crystal it rose above her, the queen and her winged victories in the form of the alicorns about her, rampant in triumph upon a crystal dais, resplendent in their armours and immaculately detailed to the point where she could tell each of the alicorns apart in spite of their uniform armours and lack of colours. Such was the queen's artistry with crystalline magic that for the briefest of seconds, it had all come back to her mind, and she feared she might have accidentally stumbled upon her old nemesis in the flesh.

A shadow of what might have been a smile once upon a time flickered across her face at such a foolish thought. She had gotten what she came for, here in this forgotten memorial to a forgotten monarch and a forgotten victory on a forgotten battlefield. Crystal could always resist the Curse of Doubt whereas everything else was lost when somepony was forgotten, though even she did not know why. Perhaps it was because the queen was the only one to have ever overcome The Voice in wits. She knew it'd be here if it was anywhere. The queen, for all her faults, was not vain and did not squander her gifts. While all other records of her memory had faded, with her leaving only those whose heads lay beneath the Sword of Doubt to remember her, this crystalline sculpture bore her image forever more.

For a moment she had thought to destroy it. The moment passed.

She turned around and walked off, understanding now what it was that had caused Meranax to become concerned, why it was that this Milesian so angered her. But that revelation and gratitude for it was not why she had spared the sculpture of her enemy.

For how else would she bring The Voice to a rage once she had triumphed in the end, if she didn't have a physical reminder to its greatest failure?

--=--

"'Scuse me, pardon me, coming through!"

Ordinarily, when one heard those words, they tend to look down and move out of the way of the small person trying to make their way through the throng.

In the Whisperwood, it engendered an entirely different reaction.

Deer yelped, shouted, and shook hooves angrily as a young fawn jumped from back to back and sometimes launched himself off of some poor, unfortunate buck's antlers. Oaksfury could worry about how much trouble he was in when he got caught. Right now he was going to see the Winsh-ir. He had been all over the forest fighting winter, and this was the first time ever a living Winsh-ir would return to a city on the eve of the Feast of Allgods. Oaksfury didn't want to miss this; he had so many things to ask him!

He let out a yelp as something latched onto the nape of his neck, stopping him in mid-air and leaving his flailing hooves to shoot forward in front of him as he found himself hanging.

"Huh?" He turned his head to look around him, letting out a gasp when he recognised the dirty, smiling face of the doe that had snatched him out of the air. "Mom!"

"Anf fhere do youf fink youf're goin?" Oaksfury cocked his ear.

"…What?"

"Oh." The doe dropped him. Oaksfury hit the ground and whined a bit at his now sore hindquarters. Several passing deer chuckled at the scene. "Ahem, now where do you think you're going, young stag?"

"Ah…" Oaksfury's eyes darted about as he looked for an excuse. Dusk was coming and the treetops were getting very dark, the oakenhearts lighting up, their faux starry brilliance amplified by the hanging tresses glittering with budding shimmer bells and sparkling dazzle flowers. Beautiful in their own right, the winter flowers showered the entire city in gentle glittering pollen that intermixed with the falling snow. It was very pretty, and more than a few deer families took their time in their daily business to simply admire the sight of their city, radiant in the warmth of the Hearthfire even in the fury of winter. Unfortunately for Oaksfury, he had his mother's full attention.

"I just want to see the Winsh-ir!" he whined, ears splayed and hiding his big eyes under the fringe of his mane. Summerglory smiled and ruffled his mane.

"So is that why you were in such a hurry, hm?"

"…Yes. When did you get back, ma?"

"Oh, I am just in the door." Summerglory rolled her eyes before rubbing some of the dirt and grime from her forehead. Oaksfury cocked his head.

"But the city doesn't have a door?" Summerglory giggled before nuzzling the fawn, causing him to giggle in turn.

"It’s an expression from the outside world. Now why are you so keen to see the Lord in Winter?"

"So I can ask him some more about the minotaur!" Oaksfury answered excitedly.

Summerglory cocked an eyebrow. The soft, yellow-brown doe's mane was hanging limp to one side, damp with some swamp water. Trekking through the Greenwoods was no picnic even if you knew what you were doing and the forest obeyed you… most of the time.

"Minotaur?"

"Uh-huh!" Oaksfury nodded. "The minotaur that helped Mister Whirlywind become the Winsh-ir!"

"…Really? Okay, clearly there's some things I need to catch up on," Summerglory rubbed the side of her head.

"I met him myself!"

"What?"

"Well, I had to go after the elder came over, so I couldn't ask him what it was like going on adventures with Mister Whirly."

"There… There were outsiders in the city? A minotaur no less?" Summerglory looked shocked, then more quietly to herself, "Why didn't nodeer tell me?"

"Probably didn't want to ruin the surprise." Summerglory yelped with a jump, whirling around in mid-air. Oaksfury got to see his own mother all but somersault over him and blinked in momentary confusion. Chief Forestfire smiled genially at the tired outcast. "Welcome home, Summer. How's the outside world?"

"Fire!" Summerglory shouted before crushing the smaller doe in a hug. "Ohhh look at you! Chieftainship suits you!"

"Urk—I'm happy… to… see you… too!" Forestfire managed between having the life squeezed out of her. She pushed her off, brushed herself down, and coughed to try to regain her lost dignity. "Glad you made it back safely. I take it all is still well in the outside world?"

"No." Summerglory frowned. "There's rumours of war on the wind between the Equestrians and the griffons."

"What? Over what?" Forestfire looked disconcerted at that revelation.

"I'm not sure, but it’s nothing more than antler jousting at the moment. Apparently it’s all because of... uhm." Summerglory glanced down at her curious son. She smiled at him and brought him closer to her with a foreleg before turning back to her chieftain. "In any case, it’s nothing for us to worry about. Maybe I can give my report later? Have there been any more outcasts back for winter?"

"You're the first I've met so far," Forestfire replied, before ruffling Oaksfury's mane and walking past her friend. Summerglory fell into step beside her, which meant Oaksfury had to be dragged along. Levitated to sit atop his mother's back, the little fawn pouted and crossed his forelegs, contenting himself with deer-watching.

The streets were crowded with deer going about their day in preparation for the feast. Wreaths adorned necks; costumes of gods and spirits adorned by revellers danced and bobbed among the crowds. Stags of the priestly castes dressed in emerald greens and golds milled around the crowds with silver bells hanging from around their necks. Their antlers were ritually stripped of their points, leaving only two long horns twisted from their heads, painted wholly in black, their muzzles covered in coloured powders representing their respective patron god as they spread traditional oral legends, tales, and teachings to deer as they went along.

Everywhere they passed, there was the sight and smells of cooking, and brewing contests were held between young bucks to win cloaks of winter's gold, spun from the biannually blossoming Evening's Gift in the deep gardens beneath the city. Merchant castes from other tribes, now able to safely traverse the forest in winter, brought wares from other tribes to share and to sell. Oaksfury always thought some of the others looked weird; some of them had woad! He always thought only warriors wore woad. Apparently it was different in other tribes.

Then he saw something. His smile widened, and he leapt from his mother's back. He didn't hear his mother's surprised yelp as he was too busy ducking under the hooves of unsuspecting deer as he hurried his way over to join the ring of fawns gathered outside the grand hall.

"Fury!" his outraged mother shouted as she bounded off after him, only stopping as she finally pushed her way through the gathered crowd and found exactly what had drawn her little one so far from their home.

"Hey what's going o— oh." Forestfire stalled after catching up with her friend and slowly, very slowly, tried hiding herself behind Summerglory before—

"Forestfire! There you are!" A magical wisp of wind brushed past the gathered deer, wrapped around her withers, and yanked her into the centre of the circle of onlooking fawns and amused deer. Forestfire landed on her hindquarters beside the jovial Whirlwind, who casually wrapped a foreleg around her outraged, flustered, and sputtering form. "Everydeer, let’s hear it for our chieftain! Without whom we'd all be considerably more chilly than we are now. You're welcome by the by."

"Whirlwind!" Forestfire managed, shrugging off his leg as the crowd lightly giggled. Whirlwind was amused at his friend's flustered expression. He had changed slightly, his fur always seeming to glisten as if he had just come inside from the light snowfall, frost clutching at his antlers in and around where the crown of winter hugged the contours of his antlers. Despite that, he was very much warm and alive to the touch, and there was an odd, elfish glisten to his eyes most days. Well, more so than a deer ought to have, at any rate. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, lots of things! You told me to come back, remember?"

"I, uh, well yes, but I mean here, right now… in the middle of the street."

"Oh just telling stories, like that time I saved the Tinderspears in the northwest from rampant ice furies just the other day. Gave them what for!" He leaned down and tapped one of the sturdier-looking young bucks on the shoulder for emphasis. "So what are you doing here?"

"I uh, uhm, was walking!" Forestfire replied quickly, turning, scanning the crowd, and then yanking the unsuspecting Summerglory out from the crowd and putting her between the two. "With Summerglory! My friend. My friend Summerglory."

"Summers!" Whirlwind shouted with delight, grabbing her hoof and shaking it. "I haven't seen you since that thing in Salt Lick City!" Summer smiled wryly at that.

"You mean that thing you started."

"Mmmm, nope, don't know what you're talking about. I was sleeping when it happened."

"You certainly weren't sleeping when you left me to deal with it."

"You said you could handle it."

"That doesn't mean you couldn't have helped."

"Yes, well, I was rather preoccupied chasing those rascals who had made off with the shipment of iron."

"Uh huh," Summerglory deadpanned, then smiled wickedly as she glanced back at Forestfire who was busy trying to compose herself, "but it’s good you're here. Me and Forestfire were just talking about you."

"—urk!" Forestfire choked and sent a betrayed glare at her friend.

"Oh really? What about me? There's a lot to talk about!"

"Uhhhh…" Forestfire began, suddenly very aware of the gathered deer watching the proceedings, "maybe we should take this elsewhere?"

"Why? It’s Allgods! There's nothing so dire it can't be shouted in the open for all to see!" Whirlwind spread his forelegs with corresponding shouts of approval from surrounding deer. Forestfire just rubbed her face.

All while the adults conversed, little Oaksfury spied the Lord in Winter from between his mother's legs. He took the opportunity to get closer when his mother got pulled into the circle. Now, he took the additional step and got closer to the Winsh-ir.

"Is it true?" he asked. Whirlwind looked down in surprise at the squeaky-voiced fawn at their feet. Forestfire was merely thankful for the distraction. "Did you really beat up the Lady of the Lake?"

Whirlwind guffawed at that, even while several of the adults looked horrified at the idea. He leant down and studied the fawn's face. Oaksfury backed up a step, but ran into his mother's encouraging forehoof. Whirlwind's eyes danced with mirth, and his studious expression gave way to a wide smile.

"And what would you say, little one, if I told you that I did?" Oaksfury seemed at a loss for words for a minute before finally deciding on a response.

"Was it fun?" Whirlwind laughed.

"Oh gods, make him grumpier, put a silver bucket on his head, and he'd practically be a little Handy for the way he thinks about things!" Whirlwind chuckled, before looking up. "I take it he's your little one, Summer?"

"That he is, and it’s well past his bedtime," Summerglory admonished, looking down at her son and ruffling his mane.

"Oh come off it, it's Allgods. Let the boy have a little fun." Whirlwind chuckled before turning to the gathered crowd. "But that is another thing. I don't think I've had a chance to give you all the full story of how I relit the Hearthfire."

"But grampy said you released the Lady from her prison!"

"I heard there was some dark god involved."

"Didn't you have to tame a star spider?"

"I see you haven't said much more than absolutely necessary, Fire," Whirlwind said with a smile to the chieftain. She huffed.

"I had to be careful, but if what I've been hearing is true, you haven’t exactly been subtle about what you saw fit to tell the other tribes." Whirlwind shook his head.

"You're a good chieftain, Fire, but you're terrible at spinning a good story." He then turned back to the crowd. "Oh, the real story is much more interesting than all that, I can tell you! And you…" he turned back to Oaksfury. "Why so interested?"

"Uhm, well, I was talking to your minotaur friend when he was last here, and I wanted to know more is all."

"Minotaur friend? What are you— oh! Oh, you mean Handy!" Whirlwind guffawed. "Oh, he's not a minotaur, little one. How typical of him to tell you such silliness. He does love his tricks and lies."

"Your friend is a liar?"

"One of the most prolific liars I have ever met. And that’s quite a compliment, I assure you. There are some awful rogues in the outside world. Lots of wonders too, though. Am I right, Summer?"

"That you are," Summer said with a roll of her eyes.

"And who knows, maybe you might even find something that helps you change the world."

"…Really?" Oaksfury asked. Whirlwind rapped his antlers to make his point, shaking the silver chain crown that adorned them.

"Sure. I did after all, now didn't I?" Looking around, he saw that it was indeed getting dark. "Ah, but it is late. Perhaps you're right, Fire. Let’s talk somewhere else. Now run along, little Oaksfury. And that goes for the rest of you too," he said, admonishing the other deer children. There were many disappointed 'awws'.

Oaksfury was ushered away by his mother. He cocked his ears and squinted his eyes back to see the Winsh’ir disappear down the street with the chieftain by his side, quietly talking.

“Well, you got to meet him. Was it everything you hoped for?”

“Is what he said true, mama?” Oaksfury asked, looking up at his bedraggled mother. “Are there lots of amazing things in the outside world?”

Summerglory laughed brightly at that.

“Oh, there certainly are, my little heart.” Her smile fell, and she let out an exaggerated sigh and slyly looked at her son with a faux sad frown. “Ah, but you’ll find out soon enough. You’ll be following in my hoofsteps like I did after my mother. Tis a shame you won’t be able to go off and do whatever you want, but the rules are the rules…”

“Oh no, I can’t wait to go outside!”

“Now Oaksfury, you can’t just go do whatev—wait, what?”

“Yeah! I want to be like you and Mister Whirly! I want to go outside and find all these amazing things too!”

“Er…”

“And maybe I can find that Handy fellow like Whirly did, and go on an adventure together and find more amazing stuff! Or, or, I could be like you! Go into the pony cities and fight bad guys!”

“Are… Are you sure you wouldn’t want to, you know, maybe become a scribe or… or a priest? Maybe a carpenter?”

“What? No! I want to go out and explore the world and keep the forest safe!”

“So… nothing else? You don’t want to, I don’t know, become a warrior? You don’t want to try to cheat the system? Not even a little?”

“Nope! I’m going to be an outcast just like you!” Oaksfury said proudly as he scarpered off towards their home, a bewildered Summerglory looking on as her son went off ahead of her. She sighed and lowered her head.

“Oh poo, my son’s a bloody conformist…”

--=--

"Can I!? Huh, huh huh!?"

"No."

"Oh come oooooonnnnnn~"

"I said no. Now go back inside."

"But I wanna help!"

"You're not old enough. Winter duty can be dangerous."

"Serena, you're just moving clouds around," little Geraldine huffed. "I do that all the time!"

"In the summer," Serena retorted, pausing to fix the blue band holding back the feathers on her head, rolling her eyes. "When it's nice, and warm, and safe, and you don't need to worry about random westerlies blowing out of the Greenwoods like it's nogriffon's business. Now go back inside."

"Why are you even doing this? You don't even work for the weather company!"

"I'm on the reserves for our town, and I get paid for my time. I'm going to try to direct a storm front. This is no place for little girls, now go! And tell Auntie I'll be back home in time for rush hour to help with the customers."

"Fiiiiiiine…" Geraldine relented, turning around and making her way through the snow. It was half a foot deep, and she wasn't big enough to easily walk through it like her sister did, plus she didn't feel like flying. She ended up just digging a trench through the snow as she bloody-mindedly made her way home. Several griffons paused, wondering what the hell was ploughing its way through the snow before they noticed the blue ribbon poking above the snowline.

She only wanted to help, to do anything really that wasn't washing vegetables, cooking, and cleaning dishes at their aunt's place. She loved her aunt, they both did. She had been looking after them both for years now. Still, by the All Maker did she loathe the restaurant business. She just did not understand what her sister enjoyed so much about it. Then again, she always did take after Auntie more than Geraldine did.

She couldn’t really envision herself doing that kind of work for the rest of her life. Not now.

She paused in her under-snow tunnelling adventures and sat up to see where she was going. Sure enough, Auntie's house was just there within the town's limits, the various chimneys already smoking as the place was being made ready for another day's business. Her wings twitched, and she screwed up her face in thought. Auntie could wait for another while, right?

She smiled before bouncing off, heading for the copse of trees in the centre of town that denoted what was left of the square. She burst from the snow as she ascended the small hill leading up to the bare, naked trees. The spindly branches long since stripped of their foliage were her favourite places to play.

She climbed up the trunk of the tree, eschewing her wings, pretending she was climbing the walls of some ominous citadel in the dead of night. The looming skeletal tree branches above her were not branches but deadly spiked architecture of madgriffons designed to deter besiegers and infiltrators.

But not her!

She had become an expert of slipping through their defences, never once catching hide nor feather on their deadly embrace. Swiftly she climbed until she was at the very peak of the castle, alone and undetected, ready to descend inside, slay what enemies there were, and throw open the gates for the army outside!

Or she would if the tree was hollow and, you know, she had her friends with her. As it were, she found herself alone, lying back on several branches she had set up to suspend her without poking into her sides annoyingly.

She lay back with a sigh, looking up at the sky. There was a dark thunderhead in the distance which was really out of place for this part of Firthengart in winter. She frowned at it. She really did want to go and help out. Who cared if she was smaller than everygriffon else? She flopped over with a sigh and let her forelegs dangle through the branches. She puffed her cheeks up and blew, creating a low whistling sound in exasperation, imitating a fluffy deflating balloon as best as her little griffon body could.

She was so bored! She wanted excitement, adventure, but more than anything, she just wanted to get out of this town. Idly twisting a tiny sprig off of a branch, she recalled the festival. Now that had been exciting! So many new faces, games to play, things to see, and food to eat! There were even races there she had never seen before! It was the greatest time of her life. It was such a shame it had to end when that dumb dragon went and tried to burn everything down.

She frowned at the thought. A few griffons were badly hurt by all of that. Her sister nearly got burned too and would have if it hadn't been for that Handy person. She remembered it as clear as day when her sister flew out of that burning tent and told her all about it. Then they had both went to see him in the fights. She wanted to be like that, being all brave and tackling a dragon. To hear her sister talk of it was the best, though! She couldn't stop talking about it, and Geraldine was more than happy to listen. She wondered if the human still had that painted leaf she gave him...

"Probably not," she huffed to herself, sliding off the branches and letting her wings shoot out as she glided lazily down to the snow. She snapped her wings shut, ducked her head, and let herself roll down the snow-covered hill in a tumble as she dropped bodily the last half metre to the ground. She glumly padded her way through the snow back into town and towards the restaurant.

The doorbell jangled as she pushed the door open and shrugged the scarf from her beak.

"Auna?" Geraldine called out as the warmth of the hearth hit her face. The scent of greasy foodstuffs mixed with the smells of rising bread and broth. It was a welcome change to the cruel cold of the outside, but despite that, the tables were mostly empty. The usual regulars here for midday tea were absent, likely because of the storm, either flying to deal with it or to get their homes prepared just in case it couldn't be diverted or dissipated. "Auna, you there?"

"Geraldine? Oh good, you're back! Come help your ol' auna back here!" a voice called from the kitchen. Geraldine stepped around the few tables with customers still having their meals and their quiet but friendly conversations as she made her way in back. Auntie Greta was a… generously-sized griffon herself, her feathers golden but greying at the edges and her pelt a dusky brown. She turned and gave Geraldine a wide smile from her cracked beak. "There's my girl. Where's your sister?"

"She said she'd be back for the rush hour."

"Hmph, oh I don't think she'll be needed, I fear." Greta squinted sideways at the floor on the other side of the kitchen divide. She then gave Geraldine a knowing smile. "Ah, blasted storms. Well, I guess this is your lucky day!"

"Lucky… how?" Geraldine asked, having frozen where she was, hanging the scarf on a peg. Greta turned back to the pot of broth she was cooking.

"Well, I'm just about done cooking for the day. What I got is likely all we'll be needing for today. You just go ahead there and just wash the dishes. No need to cut the carrots." Geraldine beamed. She hated cutting the vegetables. Tartarus, she hated cleaning the pots and pans and scrubbing them all down, but she would much rather get it all done now rather than later on at night after she was tired from running around cleaning tables and spills on the floor.

"Okay, Auna!" Geraldine said brightly before hurrying over to the sink and scrambling up onto the stool to begin scrubbing away at the cutlery. Greta chuckled softly before putting a meal together on a wooden platter along with a bowl of broth and taking it out to the floor. Geraldine watched her leave before turning back to the pile of cleaning she had to do. She sighed before getting to it.

One after another, she cleaned and cleaned. Every time she was nearly halfway done, Greta came over and dropped another pile of dishes beside her. It wasn’t even a busy day! But she sighed and got on with her work. Sooner she was finished, sooner she could go off and—

“Gethrenia?”

Geraldine stopped her work as the word caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see what was going on at the far side of the kitchen counter. There were several griffons all sitting around a table near the door. One had funny-looking robes on, while the others looked like soldiers.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re just stopping by for something to eat. We’ll be on our way soon. We’re not looking to disturb anygriffon,” said the one in robes, in a cultured, northern accent. Auntie Greta looked nervously at the few other customers who were giving the newcomers angry glares. As one, the five or so regulars left the building, with the foreigners eyeing them warily as they went.

“Well… Well, I suppose. Where are you folks heading anyway?”

“Ironkeep, my good lady,” said the official-looking griffon. The three he had with him did their best to look relaxed, but Geraldine could see they were warily keeping an eye on everything around them. She stopped what she was doing and crept closer to the half door separating the kitchen from the floor, peeking through it. “I am here on behalf of King Johan, the Blackwing of Gethrenia.”

“The… The king!?” Greta suddenly looked very flustered and unsure what to do with herself. Geraldine sympathised. They never had anygriffon that important here before. “M-May I ask why?”

“Just… Suffice it to say, it is in order to settle the difficulties between our two kingdoms. In the interest of peace, you understand,” the griffon responded, giving her auntie a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name?”

“It’s Greta, Greta Greatwood.” She tapped her empty serving tray nervously. “And yours, Mister…?”

“Ivorybeak,” he responded brightly. “Count Ivorybeak. I’m here at your king’s invitation.”

--=--

She had been listening to her father argue with her uncle for a good hour or so now. They had kept their voices mostly level, but Golden Eye always did have exceptional hearing. She paid no mind, pushing her hat back up over her horn and idly turning a page of the tome she was reading.

Father had been ecstatic when she started showing more interest in the hard magics, thinking she’d finally decided to follow in his footsteps and become a mage. Then he started realising exactly what kind of books she was reading. That was when his disapproval became more apparent.

She devoured all she could: esoteric magic, fringe sorcery and theories, bestiaries, monster manuals, as well as books on outright folklore, on things that did not exist as far as her father was concerned. Material that agreed with one another, material that actively contradicted conventional wisdom and known facts—nothing escaped her scrutiny.

The fact she hadn’t abandoned her Nightmare Night costume was also a cause for concern. In fact, she had gone out of her way to have it properly fitted to her. The little tan filly became inseparable from her chosen profession.

Her chosen profession that had recently brought her father into conflict with his beloved brother.

“—She is doing no such thing!”

Oh goody, they were coming upstairs now. She looked up from her manual on whisps and looked up as the door to her room was opened.

“I only want to talk to her,” the grey-coated, white-maned stallion murmured as he entered, followed closely by her robed father.

“I will not let her delve any further into this absurd fantasy of hers!” her father bellowed.

“I just want to talk. Surely you above all ponies, dear brother, know how serious it can be to ignore something just because it defies common sense,” her uncle said, looking at her father.

Golden Eye glanced between them. Her father, Groundswell, opened his mouth to rebuke, but then a sudden soft, distant look came over his eyes and his face lost all expression. He looked at the ground hard for a moment, looked at her, and then back to his brother.

“Just… I just didn’t want her to…” He stopped short, and that same stern expression she was so used to returned, and he spoke through gritted teeth, “Five. Minutes. Nothing more.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“It had better be.” Groundswell left the room with one last look at Golden Eye. It may have been a trick of the eye, but she could’ve sworn he looked worried. Her uncle turned around and looked down at her where she sat at the foot of her bed. His blue eyes had heavy rings around them. He scanned the various paraphernalia around the room before speaking.

“So, I heard you and your friends had a lot of fun this Nightmare Night.”

“...Uhh.” Golden Eye was suddenly unsure of herself and reverted to the shy filly she had been before she had seen the impossible with her very eyes. “Yeah.”

Her uncle walked over to her bookshelf, the earth pony removing one volume and placing it on a table.

“Summoning rituals of the Pre-classical era? My, my, no wonder your dad’s upset. Don’t you know conjuration doesn’t exist?”

“But I saw it happen!”

“Did you now?” Her uncle looked sharply at her. He still had his smile, but there was a harder glint in his eye that froze her where she stood. “Did you really see the human resurrected from the dead? Did you see him appear? Did you see how it happened after you made your invocation? Are you absolutely certain?”

Golden Eye’s certainty was suddenly shaken.

“N-No, but all the things started happening after I did the ritual!”

“And did you draw the circle yourself?”

“I… Some of it was… carved into the wood already. And… And the candle stands were already stood up.”

“And you say you found something, after all was said and done?” her uncle pressed, kneeling down beside her and putting a hoof on the manual she was reading. Golden Eye huffed.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Should an uncle not be concerned for his favourite niece? I am only trying to help. I am a detective, after all.”

“You are?”

“Of a sorts.” He glanced at her crushed velvet hat. “So, what was it you found?”

“I… It was a pumpkin. I showed it to the guards, and they… they laughed.”

“Why?”

“Said it was proof it was just… just a prank.”

“And was it?”

“What!? No!”

“And why do you say that?”

“Because of what was carved onto it!”

“‘Be careful what you wish for’,” he said to himself, idly flipping a page in her book. “And why do you think this means anything more than what the guards think it means?”

“Because I didn’t wish for anything that night!” Golden Eye nearly shouted. Her uncle looked up at her curiously, letting her continue. “It… It was eerie. But… the more I think about it, a few days before, I had seen a strange box move by itself.”

“Did you now?” She nodded.

“It was on a wagon owned by two troubadours.” Golden Eye’s gaze scanned the ground as she recalled. She recounted how she had went up to the wagon and sought to open the box to see what made it move before other foals distracted her and the traveling ponies came back. “And then… I said to the box that I’d find out what really was inside of it.”

“Hmm,” he said contemplatively, before lazily reaching over to a pile of books and pointing to one halfway down the pile. “Gypsy curses. Really?”

“I had to cover every possibility!” Golden Eye shot back defensively, looking slightly embarrassed.

“So… having considered all that, and everything you have researched, do you still believe you summoned the human from beyond the veil of life and death?”

“...No.”

“Explain then.”

“I think the human—if he really was dead or not, I don’t know—was inside that box. And somehow, someway, had heard what I said and was attracted to my summoning.”

“So you did summon him after all.”

“I didn’t! Conjuration is impossible!”

“Yet he came when you called, did he not?”

“Well yes, but it's not the same?”

“I don't know, ‘summoning’ is such a wide subject…” he said, smiling and rubbing his chin, enjoying teasing the filly.

“Stop treating me like I’m stupid!” she demanded. “I’m not, I knew it had to be something else, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t connected.”

“I know you’re not stupid,” her uncle murmured sympathetically. He sighed lightly. “Unfortunately, that’s why I’m here.”

“Because… Because the human was here?”

“Partially, but no.” He pushed the books out of the way, “I’m here because of you.”

“M-Me?”

“Tell me, little Golden Eye, what have you been doing around town lately?”

“Uh… nothing.” She glanced this way and that. He smiled at that. They were going to need to work on her ability to lie properly.

“Really? You weren’t digging around in Miss Snap Crackle’s cellar the other week?”

“Oh… that.”

“Yes. What was it I believe? You had thought a phantasm had taken residence down there?"

"I-I was just following the clues!" Golden Eye said defensively, letting the brim of her hat hide her abashed face. "I just… I could've sworn. The strange scratch marks on surrounding houses, how everypony's pets keep disappearing on every new moon…"

"Mm," the stallion said thoughtfully, looking out through the window at the now empty building that used to be Snap Crackle's little florist shop. Before she left town that was—he couldn't stay for very long if he was to track where the thing that pretended to be a living breathing pony got too far away. "So what would you do, I wonder, if I told you that you were on to something?"

"Wh-What?" Golden Eye nudged her hat up slightly. Her uncle smiled down at her warmly.

"It was all the ruckus you were causing, more than anything, that brought my… our attention to this part of the world."

"Because of the human?"

"No… well, yes, but that issue is more complicated." He reached over and lifted off her hat, much to her protests. "What a funny old costume. What was it you were pretending to be?"

"I'm not pretending! Not anymore. I'm training to be a real inquisipony!"

"Are you? Hmhm, oh dear, no wonder my brother disapproves. He always did take after Mother. She never approved either."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh don’t mind me, just reminiscing, it's been quite some time since we walked about in the open dressed like this. I'm surprised you even got the buckle right. Most ponies forget the symbolism there."

"What symbolism?"

"You don't know? Hm, I suppose we'll need to teach you that, if you want to that is."

"Want what? What are you talking about?"

"What I am talking about, little Golden Eye, is the Inquisition." He placed the hat back on top of her head. "And how very little you know about it."

"And what, you know more?" she scoffed indignantly.

"I should think so, being a member of it." He had to give the little filly a second to recover from the stupendous gasp of astonishment she released. He was prepared to go off on a reassuring lecture to calm her down but found himself suddenly held hostage by nothing less than the epitome of youthful exuberance. "No—"

"Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, omigosh!" she shouted, suddenly in his face and waving her hooves excitedly before suddenly bouncing about the room from one pile of lore scrolls to another pile of magic books and back again. "I KNEW they were really real, I mean there's no official history, but they're mentioned everywhere, and if you know where to look, there's references to them in even the—"

"Woah woah woah!" Glaive urged as he got back to his hooves. "Slow down there."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"I'll take that as a yes." He had seen the filly wear a dour, business-like expression when he had come in. It had been sceptical, contemplating. Then he broke that mask and saw the nervous, embarrassed little filly beneath. Apparently he broke that and accidentally unleashed the floodgates of enthusiasm, if the little foal before him was any indication. She practically vibrated with glee. "Okay, there's… rather a lot I'd need to explain, a lot to learn. We still need to get your father to… well, that’s between him and me."

"Are you going to have him let you teach me to be an inquisipony too?" Glaive looked down at her thoughtfully for a second. There was a knock at the door, and his brother's voice called saying their time was up. He looked up at the door, chewing the inside of his cheek before finally asking.

"Would you like to?"

--=--

"My dad's a pegasus."

"Uh huh."

"Mom's a bat pony."

"You don't say."

"I'm a unicorn."

"Never would've guessed."

"What gives!?" the little colt exclaimed, throwing up his hooves at the library table before being shushed by a nearby pegasus librarian, using the primary feather of her white wing to make a shushing motion. The pair of foals quietened down, and looked back at their respective books on enchanting.

Little Arcane Mist sat with a huff, holding his head up with a hoof as he idly turned pages with his magic. His apathetic study partner and foalhood friend waited until the librarian passed before putting down her tome. "Why do you care? My parents were both earth ponies."

"Yeah I know, it's just… it's just weird, you know?" Mist rubbed a foreleg. Mystic Gem grimaced and glanced up at his slightly curved and smooth horn. It did stand out rather badly in comparison to other unicorns. He had always been sensitive about it but it was nothing compared to his tuft ears and slitted eyes. Oh, and the fangs. Even the few other thestral foals in town tended not to associate with him because he wasn't a pegasi variant.

She lifted a sheet of parchment with her magic, rolled it, and swatted him lightly across the head, much to his surprise.

"Ah ah, none of that," she admonished. "You'll never make the entrance tests if you keep worrying about silly things like that."

"I don't even know why I have to do this…" He looked down at his text. "I don't even like magic all that much."

"I think you should try at the very least. Just look at your cutie mark."

"Yeah yeah, I know."

"Also, you pretty much scared the plot off of that instructor."

"I didn't mean too!"

"Yes you did. I know because I helped."

"I just hated his stupid face…" he mumbled. She giggled.

"Well, you sure gave him a reason to change his expression." He rubbed the back of his head, shifting the light blue and white mane.

"Well, whatever. If it'll make mom and dad happy, I guess."

"Hey, it’s not like you'll be alone if you get into the school. I'll be coming with you!"

"Yeah, but only if you pass the test too."

The white filly puffed out her chest. "I'll have you know I already have." Arcane Mist gasped.

"Really!? When!?"

"I took the theory exam a few weeks ago. My family is going to Canterlot for the practical examination. And you, mister, had better not be too long behind me."

"I don't know, I don't think it's right…" He slumped on the stool again. She sighed in exasperation.

"Don't you want to become a mage?"

"Not really."

"Enchanter?"

"Nope."

"Wizard?"

"Not even a smidgen."

"Well, what DO you want to do?"

"I have no idea. I guess I just… like taking life as it comes, you know? Going to school, playing, going home. I'm happy with that."

"But you're so good at magic, almost as good as me. You can't just do nothing with that talent!"

"If you say so," Mist admitted. "It’s all luck, really. I just… get things right more than not without even trying. I mean, shouldn't ponies only get into a place like Celestia's school if they actually deserve it? Like you, you work your butt off."

"Come onnn, Misty," she whined. "You need to stop beating down on yourself like that!"

"Shhh!"

"Sorry," she whispered to the annoyed librarian who passed by in the opposite direction than before. "Look, why aren't you interested in magic?" Arcane Mist gave her a knowing expression before he lifted several heavy-looking tomes in his magic and dropped them on the table in front of her. She had to crane her neck to see around them.

"Because studying magic means I'll be spending all my time reading massive dusty, boring old books like this forever. It'll be my job. What pony could possibly look forward to that?"

"Well, I find it interesting…"

"I mean the actual reading part. Sure, I can see somepony liking magic and thinking about it. I've watched you get really into it." He saw her hurriedly draw her head back behind the books.

"O-Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you get this really intense look on your face. It's kinda scary actually."

"Oh…"

"But that’s just not me. I mean, I'll go through with it, but I don't think I'll become a wizard, is all." He flopped his little head onto the book before him and stared down at the arcane script before him. He thought for a second. "Well, there is one thing I've been meaning to look up."

"…What is it?"

"Well, have you ever heard of random objects appearing in mid-air for no reason whatsoever?"

"…What?"

"It's been bugging me for a while," Mist admitted, looking around before levitating over a small book and opening it up.

"What's that?"

"A sock… I think."

"It looks weird," Mystic scrunched up her face in disgust at it.

"Yeah, but that’s just it. I have no idea where it came from. Just popped into existence over the dinner table."

"Not that big of a mystery. Teleportation magic does exist."

"Well…" Mist nodded even as he frowned, furrowing his little brow. He looked over their pile of books and began sorting through it for the tome he needed. Mystic Gem smiled at that. There it was, the same curious determination to unravel a mystery. It had always overtook him from time to time when he came across some magical conundrum that bothered him on some level and drove him to figure it out in spite of his complete apathy to the science. She wondered where this little spurt of inspiration would lead him. "That's the thing. Have you ever heard of teleportation that could not be traced back to an origin point?"

"No, that's silly! All teleportation leaves an aetheric hoof print. You can even tell what the weather was like at moment of transplant if you study the thaumatic burns before they decay." He just looked at her, and she had to roll her eyes. "Right, I forgot. I'll speak Equestrian from now on."

"Thanks," Arcane said, smiling. She sighed. His disdain for technical terminology infuriated their teachers, but he seemed to understand things on his own terms, often through leaps of logic that mystified even her. "But yeah, that’s just it." He hovered over a book concerning translocation. "There is no known method of teleportation of either objects or ponies that does not create a… a tear in the aetheric winds. This thing? Poof! Like it just came into existence out of nothing."

"Maybe it did?" Gem suggested. He looked at her with a cocked head. "Maybe whatever sent the sock just, you know, sent the idea of the sock, and it was created through… I don't know, some kind of alchemy that changed the air into the sock itself rather than transport a physical object? Maybe that’s why it’s so weird-looking. It was some wizard’s experiment." Arcane Mist started chuckling. "What’s so funny?"

"That's impossible. That would mean somepony out there is sitting on an arcane process that can artificially duplicate anything from thin air. Imagine having all the sweet rolls you could want with the wave of your horn anywhere, forever?" Mystic Gem got a faraway look in her eyes at that. "Mystic?"

"Shhh," she hushed, still having that faraway look as he waved a hoof in front of her eyes. She smiled dreamily. "It's… beautiful." Mist snorted, before clapping his hooves together to regain her attention.

"But yeah, I wouldn't want to use this to transport things."

"Why not?"

"Well for starters, assuming your idea is true, wouldn't that require so much drain on the winds of magic in the area you're teleporting the item… the idea of the item to be such that it would cause, like, a really big bang? Alchemy can be like that, especially if you're taking something like air, a gas, which is nowhere near as dense as other things and making a solid object out of it." He waved the sock. "If this thing was actually created out of thin air by remotely predetermined alchemical sorcery, then all the air, including the air in me and my mom's lungs, would have been sucked out of the house. In an instant."

Mystic Gem shuffled in her chair a bit and folded her ears down.

"Also, because you're not there to use your magic, all that sudden drain on the winds of magic would likely blow up half the town. So you know, it'd be bad," Arcane Mist continued on, completely oblivious to his friend's discomfort as she stared down at the sock in mild, foal-like annoyance, as if objecting to its existence on the basis it was interrupting story time. "If you tried to transport the idea of the pony, wouldn't that just mean you'd make a dead pony on the opposite end? I mean, the body and the clothes will be there, the lights are probably on, but nopony's home upstairs. Just because it teleports your body's copy doesn't mean it necessarily teleports a copy of you."

"Uh… Mist…"

"And what about the real you? If you transport the idea of you, does that mean your body gets taken apart where you start the spell? So does that mean you die twice? I mean—"

"Misty!" she cried. Arcane Mist blinked. He turned around and looked up at the angry glare of the librarian pony and smiled sheepishly. She harrumphed, shushed them both again, and walked off. He looked back at Gem to see she looked rather disturbed by what he had been talking about.

"Oh… sorry. I forgot."

"It's… alright," she sighed. "So, now that you somehow shot my idea to Tartarus, what do you think it was?"

"I have no idea. I am honestly at a loss. You simply should not be able to teleport things without having any magical after effect of some kind," he said as they both sat in silence. Then an idea came to Mystic Gem and she smiled, rubbing the base of her muzzle.

"You knooow…" she began, and he looked up. "I bet you could figure it out at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns."

"…You think?"

"I mean, if none of the books there have the answers, then at least you'll learn how to figure it out yourself."

"Well… when you put it like that…" He looked down at the sock and across to the books strewn on the table between them. He sighed. "Well, alright then, I guess I'll give it my best."

Mystic Gem quietly squeed. Mist levitated another journal by some ancient wizard or another before his face and began reading.

"At least now I have a reason to care."

Mystic Gem deflated.

--=--

Wren was in pain.

Wren was in pain a lot these days.

Why was Wren in pain a lot these days?

Why, because Wren kept getting into trouble with kids twice his size.

He lay out on top of the coal bunker at the back of his house, scarf wrapped tightly about his neck. His wings were splayed and lying limply, catching flecks of snow that drifted lazily from far above.

Everything hurt, from the tips of his primaries to the toes of his rear paws and everything in between. He contented himself with staring up at the clouds with all the impotent fury his nine year old body could muster and burrowed his muzzle deeper into his scarf for warmth. The little griffling cursed the advice the human had given him. It hadn't helped at all!

He had spent the past few months trying to force griffons to do what he wanted. Sometimes he shouted at them; sometimes he called them dumb. He even bribed one once! Nothing. All it ever did was get him into more fights than usual. That human’s advice was a load of bunk! Stupid story, stupid little wren bird, stupid eagle!

"It was a stupid story anyway," he huffed and rolled over on his side, draping a wing over himself. He liked lying on top of the coal bunker. He was usually protected from the wind most of the time with the house at his back, and it let him look out over the fence to the rolling hills surrounding his home. "How in Tartarus does a little wren beat an eagle anyway? There was no way he could have gotten the eagle to agree to helping him. The eagle wanted to be king too."

He lay there, his thoughts storming about his mind darkly as he watched a small robin flitter about on the snow-covered grass a few metres from him. It made a trail of tiny bird feet shaped marks in the snow as it went, stalking its way towards a juniper berry bearing bush, which lay under an old rusted sheet of corrugated metal that lay against the hedge.

He watched it idly as a crow suddenly landed in front of it. The thing cawed and spread its wings wide and batted at the smaller robin, which flew off. The crow then hopped up to the berry bush to get its food. Wren snorted and moved to roll off the bunker and make his way back inside. It would be dinner soon. He was stopped by a curious sight, however.

The robin had returned. It had alighted on top of the sheet of corrugated metal and looked down at the crow as it fed from the bush. Wren stopped in his tracks to look at it. What did it think it was doing?

He watched in fascination as the little robin, with less strength in its entire body than he had in a single talon, brushed snow off the sheet of metal with its feet as it took to the air. The white powder fell onto the crow below, causing it to fly off in squawks of fright and outrage. Either in fear or to find its assailant, Wren couldn't guess. The little robin, however, was nowhere to be seen, at least not in the air.

He spied the little bird by the bush. It had disappeared into the far side of the sheet of metal and made its way to the bush underneath it where the crow couldn't see and started eating its fill from the bush. Wren was astounded. Soon enough, the little robin had disappeared again, and the crow returned to the bush to find it missing more berries than there had been when it had left it.

Wren couldn't get the scene out of his head as he walked around the house. He spied Fenwick Deepclaw through the fence posts as he did his part-time work delivering ink to the printing house. An idea struck him. He took to wing and alighted on top of the fence itself, trying not to wince as his muscles stung.

"Hey, Fenwick!" he called. The larger griffon child looked up at him in surprise before levelling his expression.

"Oh, it’s you. What do you want now, Wren?"

"I uh, just… wanted to apologize," Wren said, looking down. Fenwick cocked his head in surprise.

"What for?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, I know I've been a jerk to you this past while and… well, I just wanted to say sorry about that."

"You've been a jerk to everygriffon."

"And I feel just awful about that, really," Wren said as sincerely as his little lying heart could. In his defence, he did manage to pull it off with his dirty bedraggled look, helped considerably by the flecks of coal dust on his fur and feathers. "I was just doing what I was told."

"…Told?"

"Yeah, I was being made to do all that jerky stuff by Cameron."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, he's the biggest kid in school. I just had to do what he said, y'know?" Wren said, referring to the big, brown-feathered hippogriff who barely knew Wren existed. Wren neither hated him nor liked him. He was, however, pretty jealous of him. "And he told me to make your life miserable, so you'd beat me up."

"Why the claw would he do that? I hardly know the guy!" Fenwick demanded.

"Because… I don't know if I should be telling you this..."

"Tell me what, Wren?"

"…That Saisha Windglade likes you."

"S-She does?" Fenwick stuttered, utterly taken aback that the prettiest girl in school had an eye on him. "But… But isn't she—?"

"Cameron's friend, yeah," Wren confirmed, rubbing a foreleg as he sat down on the fencepost, letting his rear legs hang.

"Then, if he's jealous, why doesn't he just tell me to back off himself?" he asked, tapping his beak contemplatively. Wren smiled behind his scarf.

"You know Saisha—she hates fighting. So he makes me pick fights with other griffons so that they'll look bad by 'picking on the halfbreed'." Fenwick looked shocked at that, wings outstretched and disturbing the thin layer of snow that had gathered on his cloak.

"I would never—! My parents raised me right. I never picked on you because… because..."

"My mom's a pony? I know, it's okay. I started the fights, remember?" Wren confessed. "And I felt awful about that. It's why I'm apologizing, 'kay?"

"I can't believe… are you for real? She likes me?"

"Well, Cameron certainly thinks so," Wren said.

"That nasty little—! I can't believe, oh just you wait, I'll show that coward. You know what, Wren? You're all right. Sorry for being rough on you all those times."

"Quit apologizing, I was in the wrong, remember? I just… don't know what I'm going to do about Cameron though…"

Fenwick looked thoughtful for a moment. Wren could see the gears turning in his head as he pawed at the snow beneath him with a claw.

"Right, in the future, if he starts up with you again, just come to me, all right?"

"You… You mean it?"

"Yeah, at the very least there's no sense in us fighting anymore. Don't worry about it, I'll ward him off."

"Thanks Fenwick. You're a pal." Wren flew off back home. Well, that went better than expected. He now had a friend where he once had an enemy. The more he thought about it, the more he thought about how he could use it, and as he sat with his family over their meal of warm broth, more and more ideas came to him.

If he could manipulate Fenwick like that, who's to say he couldn't take his time and work other griffons over to his side as well? That wren in the story, none of the other birds saw him sneak up behind the eagle's back after all, and after the eagle had done all the hard work, the Wren stole the crown. If any did, none of them ratted him out. He'd have to be like the wren, either fool everybody or make it in their best interests not to get in between him and what he wanted.

And what did he want?

Well, Saisha was cute, and Cameron was the jealous type and a bit of a bully. Maybe she'd be better off being friends with somegriffon else? The thought lingered with him for the rest of the day, and on to the following week, and the one after that. Every hour of every day was spent going from griffon to griffon, making amends, putting them on square terms and, if they didn't trust him, let alone like him, they at least no longer felt animosity towards him.

But by the time he was through, they would certainly feel animosity to Cameron… and to Fenwick. Eventually the time came when he came to Fenwick, nothing alarming or urgent, just a friendly catch up, and then he was away. He was only delaying him long enough to be certain he'd bump into Cameron in the square, where everygriffon could see them.

It didn't take long. With everything he had done, the schoolyard whispering had taken care of the rest and everygriffon was saying one spurious thing regarding Fenwick or another about Cameron… and each thought the other had started it. The conversation was aggressive and terse in the manner of all schoolyard 'big kids' trying to intimidate one another before the feathers started to fly. And then Fenwick had to let it slip, the final digging claw that dug under Cameron's pelt. That Saisha liked him and that Cameron wasn't big enough of a griffon to get Fenwick to stay away himself.

Wren couldn't help but think what a beautiful success it all was when the fighting started, especially with Saisha herself there to witness it all. He was about to play his final card when, All Maker preserve her, Saisha herself stepped forward and demanded they stop, disgusted by the fighting. They each tried to make their excuses but she rebuked them both, calling Fenwick an idiot and Cameron a brute and that she never wanted to be friends with either of them. Ever. Cameron shouted at her as she ran off in tears, and the crowd turned on the pair.

Wren smiled.

He found her a while later on the edge of town, quietly sniffling on a promontory rock overlooking a frozen stream underneath a naked oak tree.

"Hey." She sniffled and looked up at him before looking back. "I, uh, saw what happened back there. Are you okay?"

"Go away… I wanna be alone."

"Hey, I get you, and I will," Wren said, alighting on the rock beside her, but not too close. "I just thought it was strange your friends didn't come after you."

"It's… fine. I'll be alright." She shifted noticeably. Now that was one thing he genuinely couldn't figure out when he was putting all this into action. Very few, if any, of the other girls in school seemed to hang around her. Maybe it had something to do with Cameron. She jumped in surprise as something landed on her head. She flailed and removed the scarf from her vision.

"Here." Wren sat down beside her. "You'll catch a cold out here by yourself. You know, Cameron was wrong. You aren't ugly. He was just saying that."

"Thanks…" she managed, eyeing him out of the side of her eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I know what it's like to be hurting on your own, with nogriffon to help." Wren looked out over the stream. "I just wanted you to know I had a talk with both of them."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I'm friends with them. Had to talk to them separately of course. They still hate each other, but both agreed to leave you alone. Cameron said he was sorry."

"Hmph, I don't care what he says," she said resolutely. Wren resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, I didn't believe him either," Wren confessed with a shrug of his wings. "Honestly, he'd probably just lose his top like that again."

"…You think so?" Her tone was a little less resolute than before. He gave her a concerned look.

"Well… I mean yeah. Guy like that? Always has to prove himself. Not really all that great to be around. I just hang out with him because I feel sorry for him." She spluttered in disbelief at that.

"How can you feel sorry for him!?" she demanded.

"Cameron has serious confidence issues. I mean, did you not see how he lost it when Fenwick said he liked you? He's insecure."

"And you're not?"

"Not even a little," Wren said with a smile. "I know where I stand on things. What have I got to be worried about?"

"How about all those fights you got into?" she accused. Wren shrugged.

"I met somegriffon who set me straight on things, made me think," he confessed. "I was petty, but I am over that now. I'm much more relaxed about life now."

They sat there, her on her haunches with the scarf hanging loosely over her shoulders and him sitting lazily with his rear legs over the rock's edge.

"So you're sure you're going to be all right?" he asked, looking over. She tugged a bit on the scarf and nodded. He gave her a warm smile before taking to wing and hovering. "Anyway, I got to get going. My dad says there's going to be a snowstorm in an hour, so you should get inside."

"Wait, your scarf!"

"Keep it. I can always get another one. Take care of yourself, Saisha. See you around."

She watched him fly off into town, then sat back on the promontory, throwing one arm of the scarf around her neck and thinking. It had been a bad day for her after all.

As far as Wren was concerned, it was a very good day indeed.

--=--

“Grave Danger bravely delves the depths of the abandoned tomb!” the little colt shouted through the wooden sword gripped in his mouth as he bounded down the abandoned shaft. It was a shallow mine with many holes leading to the surface, allowing shafts of light to pierce the darkness. “He is surrounded on all sides by deadly enemies! He is confronted with devious traps!”

The little colt jumped around the tunnel, being careful not to actually misstep. He'd been down here many times before, for it was one of his favourite haunts. The fact it kept him out of the Badlands sun was another bonus.

"But does he waver? Nay!" He swung his sword at an imaginary enemy, spitting it out and gripping the handle in the frog of his hoof as he balanced precariously on his hind legs. "Will he be felled by the devious tricks of his nemesis? Never!"

The brave little adventurer navigated the imaginary traps as he made his way to the inner sanctum to face his most dreaded foe.

"For Grave Danger knows no fear! No enemy is too strong! No threat too great! For he is the champion of Pawstown! The Vanquisher of Scorpia the Desert Wizard! The Defender of the weak and Innocent! And bestest colt ever! I am—"

His boast was cut short when his little wooden toy sword battered against an old brass pot that had been abandoned down here years ago, and he heard a yelp of surprise from the shadows next to him. Naturally he fumbled and dropped his sword before leaping back with a shout.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!" the shadowy form the dark corner shouted in response. Grave Danger leaped back, tripped, fell over himself, and scrambled back behind a rock, wielding his sword with both hooves and trying not to shake too much.

"Wh-Who's there!? Reveal yourself!" Silence. He took a deep breath and put on a brave face. "I mean it, I'm not afraid to use this!"

After a moment, a little pink-haired, brown-furred filly slowly crept out of the shadows. She couldn't have been older than seven—not even a cutie mark yet either. Another pony slowly poked his head out from the rock which hid them, a blue colt.

"Uhh… H…Hi." Grave Danger just stared in disbelief. He knew every kid in town, and these two certainly weren't from the town.

"What… What are you two doing down here? The old mines aren't safe." The filly looked at the colt behind her, who shrugged.

"Uh, what are you doing down here?" she responded. Grave Danger gave them an unimpressed look.

"I practically live down here. I know what’s safe and what isn't. You two are from out of town." The pair flinched at that, ears splayed and eyes wide. "I know ‘cause I don't know ya. Where's your folks?"

"Our… folks?"

"Yeah, your parents?" The filly looked sad.

"Mommy's far away. And…"

"And we never knew daddy," the blue colt spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. Grave Danger suddenly felt very awkward. "We came in here because we're tired."

"Why are you here? Don't you have somepony to take care of you?" Grave asked. The colt grew quiet and the filly spoke up again.

"We had but… but something bad happened to him. We had to run." Grave suddenly felt very apprehensive. He was a colt, but he was also the son of the sheriff, and as a result was slightly more aware of how bad and unfriendly a place the world can be towards foals. It was why he took such care when he was off adventuring. He knew he was not ready to go out into the world like the great human before him. He knew he had to be careful and not reckless.

After all, he could end up like these two potential orphans before him. The very thought struck him simultaneously with terror and a degree of pity for the frightened ponies. The pair seemed to shift a bit, but he paid no mind.

"Well… Well you better come with me. I'll take you into town, get you cleaned up, with some food. Maybe… Maybe then we can find your mother." The pair slunk back further behind the rock. "Hey, hey! It's okay, it isn't even a real sword. Look!" He sheathed the sword into the belt around his torso. "My dad's the sheriff. He can help you two out, keep you safe."

The pair looked at each other and then back at Grave Danger.

"How do we know we can trust you?" the filly asked. He puffed his chest out.

"Because I'm Grave Danger. I'm a hero!" he said proudly before flicking an ear. "Or I will be. I'm in ah, er, training! Yep, hero in training!" the filly looked at him with a curious expression, but the colt gave him a sceptical look. "What’s your names?"

"…Stardust." The filly said.

"Cosmic." The brother intoned.

"Pleased to meetcha!" Grave said with an outstretched hoof. The pair just looked at it in confusion until it got awkward, and Grave retracted the offered hoof. "Now come on, I'll lead you two out. Watch your step; some of these rocks are loose," he warned, waving the pair on.

The pair slowly began following him out, Grave Danger talking all the while of how he was training to become a great adventurer and something about a thing called a human? They didn't know, just letting him talk away while keeping up the scared foal personas.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" the colt whispered to the filly. She gave him a disdainful look.

"Hush, I was hungry."

"We're both hungry, but you know what mother said. No interacting with the ponies!"

"What was I supposed to do? Our minder got killed in the night and we just barely got away. Would you rather sit here waiting for the red backs to come and find us or at least have some warm bodies between you and them?"

"And what do you think happens when they find out what we are?"

"They won't."

"So you can see the future now? Interesting, can you tell me if mom's dead or not?" she hissed at him.

"What was that?" Grave called back.

"Nothing!" Stardust answered brightly before wincing. "Just uh, stubbed my hoof!"

"Oh, we can look at that when we get back. It’s not hurting bad or anything, is it?"

"No no, it’s fine, I can walk!" she said as they continued on out of the cave. She turned back to her brother.

"Mother swore she'd find us again. I do not doubt her, do you?"

"I don't disobey her. Do you?" her brother challenged back, and the pair walked in silence once more before he spoke again. "And what if the redbacks do attack despite the ponies?"

Stardust didn't reply immediately but stared resolutely ahead, her eyes flashing green just once in the darkness before they exited the mouth of the mine and into the daylight.

"Then we'll have to improvise."

--=--

He played with his sister while they waited for their dad to get back. Their brother was in the kitchen with their mom, helping with dinner in his usual, grumbling manner.

Clear Sight placed one block on top of another. His sister was only a year younger than himself, but even so the blocks were still her favourite toy. She was always quiet, but lately she had been even more so. He took to playing with her more often out of concern. He knew why of course. The reminder of it was the boards placed over their smashed window where that bad stallion had broken in. Each time his eyes lingered on it, he felt a burning anger in his young heart, an anger he kept to himself.

The little block tower fell over again, surprising the little pink pegasus filly across from him. He smiled and pulled himself up to walk over to get the blocks that fell furthest away.

"Hey, you almost beat your record that time. Wanna try again?" he asked. She nodded, golden eyes matching her blonde mane. He was the grey of an overcast sky himself, with a tousled brown mane and blue eyes.

"Okay, you wanna try hovering again?" She flapped her small wings experimentally from where she sat and shook her head. He smiled. "Wanna try standing on my shoulders to build it higher?" She nodded enthusiastically at that, a small smile forming on her muzzle, the first one he saw all day. They continued to play, her balancing on his back and withers to build the block tower higher than before, getting braver with each try. At one point she balanced a foreleg on his head as she flapped her wings for balance to get just one last block onto the tower.

Of course, they tumbled and fell over.

The pair of them laughed as they tumbled over into the tower of blocks. Laughter that quickly quietened when the front door closed and their father had returned from work.

"I'm home!"

"Our ears work just fine, honey. You don't need to shout," his wife admonished from the kitchen. Clear Sight watched his father pass by the middle room, dropping his bag of tools in the hallway. He looked bedraggled, he always did these days. He saw him glancing nervously into the middle room, over the children's heads to the broken and boarded window. Clear Sight caught his gaze, and his dad gave him a brief warm smile before turning away. Clear Sight stayed still for a moment, watching him disappear into the kitchen, seeing him hug his mother in silence.

Their embrace lasted longer than it normally did. It was a hug of reassurance more than anything. Clear Sight looked down at his sister, who had been quieter than she normally was, focused on her blocks and her toys, more for distraction than for the joy of it. Their older brother was quieter these days, less prone to complaining, spending more time to himself.

Clear Sight turned and looked up at the boarded window, shivering slightly at the chill that still made its way through despite their best efforts. His heart hardened as he remembered what that broken window was a symbol of. A wound, patched over but still bleeding, an intrusion of cold and fear into the warmth of their family. He turned and helped his sister with her blocks.

"It's going to be okay, you know," he said, his voice shaky and his expression angry as he stacked the blocks. Little Fall blinked up at him. "You don't need to be scared. Nopony needs to be scared. Not of him."

Fall glanced out the door to the kitchen for a moment before turning back to her brother and their toys. She began picking more blocks together, watching him carefully.

"I'm not scared of him," Clear Sight declared, stacking one block onto another more forcefully than he needed. "I'll show him he can't mess with our family like that. I'll make sure he will never hurt any of you ever again!"

Fall smiled at that, putting one last block into place before noticing her brother was slumping, his shoulders sagging. She frowned before sidling closer to him and putting a hoof to his leg in concern. The touch made him relent, and his expression softened.

"I just… I don't know where to begin," he said, looking off to the side. "I'm still just a kid."

There was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" Bright Spark announced, trundling down the hallway to the front door. "Who is—urk!"

The odd sounding noise coming from his brother caused Clear Sight's ears to prick up. If he hadn't seen Bright Spark slowly back away from the door, eyes wide and mouth agape, he would've thought something bad had happened to him. What was more worrying, however, was the light that was spilling into the hallway around him from the front door. Clear Sight noticed the cold draft had stopped as well.

"Well, who is it? Spark, who's at the—" Their mother gasped as she left the kitchen, a hoof raised to her muzzle. Father followed not soon after, equally dumbstruck. Both Clear Sight and Fall looked at each other before slinking over to the door, looking out of the middle room, seeing who it was that had inspired such silence in their family. He looked around the doorframe to the tall figure standing there, his sister hiding behind him and looking out from under his foreleg. When it spoke, he felt the maternal warmth in every word.

"Hello, my little ponies."

Author's Note:

Well I guess thats the hiatus over again.
================================

Oaksfury, the Rambuncious Rapscallion: Chapter 35 - The Lady of the Lake

Geraldine, the Squeaky Clean Eavesdropper: Chapter 24 - The Lion, the Witch and the Warning

Golden Eye, the Tiny Inquisipony: Chapter 37 - Ghosts and Ghouls

Arcane Mist, the Apathetic Magi: Chapter 37 - Ghosts and Ghouls

Wren, the Little Bastard: Chapter 21 - Fun with Feudalism

Grave Danger, the Daring Adventurer: Chapter 6 - Unforeseen Consequences

Stardust and Cosmic (which is totally their real names and definitely not aliases, nope), the Two Tiny Truant Tyrants in Training: This one

Clear Sight, VENGEANCE: Chapter 44 - Ticket to Ride

Comments

[More Dakka]

I’m starting to think that Megan is a thing in this story and she used to know the mistress.

It was nice to catch up on some of the minor characters.

Looks like Handy has created another Goffery, Grave danger lives up to his name, and Handy has stumbled across his favorite hostages.

Fun times all around.

[Ginnungagap]

oh god its far too late for fimfiction, I better go to bed

*see's bad Mondays updated*

...eh sleep is overrated anyway

[JBL]

6643394 derpicdn.net/img/2015/4/15/874608/medium.png

[CommandoDude]

"Uh, okay. So you want to apply for Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns. Why is that?"

"A sock."

That is quite possibly the best answer for anything.

I'm glad we got a small little thing for all those minor characters, see what happened to them. My favorite was Wren. Cheeky little bugger is gunna go far.

[IkioStar]

Mmm, so tasty. I'm salivating, wonder man.

[Slayerseba]

Yes the interlude is over. Now it's time for return of our favorite handy vampire, Handy.

[hs0003]

I recall soo little of the past chapters... They were probably good cause I read them all... It makes it hard to follow what happens in the interludes though.

[Ginnungagap]

6643394

Handy has stumbled across his favorite hostages.

err

When it spoke, he felt the maternal warmth in every word."Hello, my little ponies."

pretty sure that's Celestia, I don't think handy's vocal cords are capable of conveying any emotion even close to warmth.
Of course this means when handy gets to Grethenia, he is likely to have the equestrians hating him even more than usual, considering the only testimony he ever seems to get is from people he hurt, and never anyone he helped, murphy must hate the guy or something because no one can be this unfortunate

[Booster Spice]

The tendrils crawl and creep ever onwards, touching, slipping by, dragging along.

Someone, somewhere, wishes just to see another sunrise.

Noone expects The Pony Inquisition.

[JBL]

6643488

I'm glad we got a small little thing for all those minor characters

i.imgur.com/h3ywKwZ.gif

[JBL]

6643688 Good thing Handyman posted the chapter links in the author's notes so that you could go back and see when they were first introduced, eh?

i.imgur.com/IfJtAYB.gif

[Usurper]

6643791 Look at that .gif really closely. Is it just me or does his face change colour? Creepy.

[Darwin4]

why didn't nodeer tell me
Why didn't anydeer tell me, my dear.

twisting horns
Twisted horns.

just in case it could be diverted or dissapeted
Couldn't

What happens if handy mixes unicorn, therestral, and earth pony blood. Would the powers combine so that everything he attacked startz quietly exploding.

What happens if he drinks human blood?
Can he drink his own blood?

Does anyone else think handyman is setting up a sequel?

[More Dakka]

6643733 Ah, must have missed that bit.

Honestly though. The ponies made up their mind about Handy long before he did anything to actually warren't it and only pushed him to ever more drastic action to avoid them, firstly because some of them thought his blood was tasty, and then perusing him because he 'dared' to defend himself from those assholes.

Like the old saying goes, 'there is no faster way to create a monster then too treat someone like one'. If Handy is a monster then he is one the ponies created.

Maybe Celestia will be more reasonable. She did chew Lunar out for how she's handled this, though I still wan't to see that talk between Celestia and our favorite pony vampire in the last interlude.

[JBL]

6643853 Your third correction stands.

[Shocks]

That moment filthy plebs think Bad Mondays updates on Monday.

[Shocks]

The more information we get on Megan, the more I get the feeling she was kind of a bitch.

Granted, she was thrown into a new world when she was rather young, somehow gained god like powers, brought the ponies into a collective empire because hey, she's was a little girl, ponies are clearly the best and good guys right?

Yet, in the amount of time she lived, she didn't think, 'Hmm, maybe I might have been a little racist there. I should fix that.'

Handy needs to fix her shit.

And if it turns out somehow in some underhanded plot point that Handy is even remotely related to her I will release my clopfiction. .

[Exaxxion]

I finished the re-read earlier today only for a new chapter to update, my timing couldn't have been better

[MonolithiuM]

inb4 Megan is the Mistress.

img07.deviantart.net/b761/i/2013/363/c/2/concept_art__witch_by_espj_o-d6zuq1y.jpg

Handy v. Megan.

All rise.

[MrMwagf]

Nice to see how things are going for those kids, i'm looking forward to what impact they might have on Handy down along the road.

[Danger Noodle]

Good to see you back. Looking forward to more.

6644041

inb4 Megan is the Mistress.

That's a frighteningly wonderful thought.

[Sonikah]

I giggled like a schoolgirl when I saw this.

[AzureShade]

Needs more Handy.

[Gigas]

Ah Wren... Man, you're one hard dude.

Grave Danger is just... If he hadn't been so clueless, Handy would've probably died at least three times that I remember.

It's nice, seeing where one life can change others. It's kinda heartwarming.
...I mean, it would be, if it wasn't Handy doing the touching.

[Hard Cider]

There are some who are born distinguished
There are some who are raised in praise
But me I was always the last in line
A blot in my father's gaze

No cheekbones chiselled on a feline face
No skill or savvy with a sword
But this game we all play is won in wily ways
And sly is this littlest lord

Cruel tricks of romance
Degraded by their spite
You snub your cub too many times
You just might feel his bite...

Beware beware of the words I twist
I am small but my reach is long
And the ravens black against the winter's mist
Are whispering the half-man's song

Whispering the half man's song...

Half Man's Song Copyright Gavin Dunne 2012

[The Orthodox Priesthood]

Great chapter, I was really wondering if you were ever going to touch on the l'il inquisitor again. It's also nice to see that the Mistress isn't sitting on her metaphorical thumb.

6644580

It's nice, seeing where one life can change others. It's kinda heartwarming.

...I mean, it would be, if it wasn't Handy doing the touching.

Aye. When it's Handy touching children, it always changes their lives in the least heartwarming way possible.

6616575

Handy as a griffon, temporarily has a hilarious amount of potential, I am not going to deny that, personally I think he'd love the feeling of flying, even if only temporarily before inevitably murderfucking the wizard responsible until they turn him back.

April Fools comes every year~

Also,

murderfucking

[Furious note-taking intensifies]

[HumansRuleOK]

The sock is vaguely familiar, did we ever see it?
Also, did we see ''Megan'' before?
And, I'm surprised you wrote this, instead of playing Fallout 4 to get your mind off all of those things that happened.

[Veo Skride]

It's interesting to see the influence that Handy has had on seemingly unimportant characters.

[Aerial]

Well, Handy sure has had a far reaching effect on the world.

And is the hiatus really, truly over?

[JBL]

6644994 Why would you tempt fate like that?

[JBL]

6644948 Seemingly indeed.

i.imgur.com/Kloe8Wy.gif

[JBL]

6644846

The sock is vaguely familiar, did we ever see it?

Right here
Search for "Eat your soup"

And, I'm surprised you wrote this, instead of playing Fallout 4 to get your mind off all of those things that happened.

You people ask these questions, then get surprised why there be no chapter! Handyman takes such statements as a challenge!

[ArcaneVisions]

Man. Wren is becoming more psychopath then anything hah. He needs to build at least one real friend before its too late. I hope It turns out alright for Grave Danger and the "foals", as long as they behave I hope It goes alright.

I was thinking for a sec that the griffon was gonna wander into the woods and see her legend. Oh well. I loved that one, those characters were pretty interesting. To be fair, all these perspectives were quite interesting to read, though the first one was meh. Never been a fan of many villain perspectives. It always makes me tense waiting for the hammer to drop, instead of stumbling into it naturally with the MC.

[Handyman]

6643394 Oh be fair, Wren is still a kid, he has a lot of time to not become a psychopathic tyrant.

6643418 SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE DEAD

6643429 img08.deviantart.net/dec6/i/2015/098/1/8/pinkie_pie_is_watching_you_by_korsoo-d8ox8kk.png

6643488 Sock is love. Sock is life.

Also kinda surprised how well received Wren has been, even I hated the little bastard when I wrote him.

6643541 SNEK. NO. SNEK. WAT R U DOIN. STAHP.

6643637 I actually laughed at this. In my head I read it like: "Yes that was lovely and adorable, now back to the blood sucking abomination."

6643675 Is gut.

6643688 Kind of a big problem in this story I'll admit.

Chekov's guns and logical far-reaching consequences is a big factor of this story but that can grow difficult giving how long its turning out to be. I apologize.

6643733 Boy are you gonna love the next chapter.

But on a side note I don't think I have ever written Handy being genuinely caring in tone towards someone else, certainly not so much he has a 'warmth' to his voice. The most he has ever allowed himself to express is mild concern.

...

Eh, fuck him. He's a bastard.

6643746 Nice poem, care to explain?

6643853 Handy has drank his own blood. Happens every time he gets hurt enough that he has blood in his mouth or other means. It does absolutely nothing for him, not even healing. You might as well ask a fire if it can burn its own tongues of flame.

If Handy drinks a mixture of different species bloods in succession, he will get the powers associated with each at the same time. Whether or not this unlocks any additional powers is unknown at this juncture.

As to whether Handy gets anything if he drinks another human's blood... well, its not as if he's currently in any danger of finding that out, now is he?

Believe it or not I actually have ideas lined up for a potential sequel and a prequel. Whether or not any of you get to see those depends greatly on whether I can finish this story in the next year or not.

6643896

Maybe Celestia will be more reasonable

Careful what you wish for.

6643932
6643969 Silly plebs, Patricians wait till Tuesday.

And to be fair to the Crystal Queen, are only in character recollection and judgement of her and her actions comes from someone who not only hates her, but has proven to have a tenuous grasp of what sane people agree to be reality. Everyone else who could possibly give a personal opinion about her, currently isn't aware she ever existed. Except possibly Meranax but she's a dragon and dragons are assholes. This is not to say that your current impression is wrong, just that we shouldn't necessarily trust the Mistress' version of history.

Also you wound me, Shocks. I can certainly guarantee Handy is in no way related to Megan (thanks JBL for all but confirming that). They were born decades apart on Earth and more than several thousand miles apart. You might as well worry that he's related to President Xi of China going by that logic. No need to release your recursive clopfiction. Seriously, do you like, have that on standby or something with your finger hovering precariously over the publish button or something?

6643983 It was rather fortuitous. Also take a break, no one should reread Bad Mondays four or five times, its unhealthy.

6644041 Well now that's just a terrifying thought.

For Handy.

6644071 The same impact it always has. Negative.

6644110 Terrifying, isn't it?

6644344 Fine taste you have sir.

6644546 You'll have your Handy fix soon enough.

6644386 If it last for four hours or more, you should see a doctor.

6644397 Looks like someone has their own Expensive Brick in real life.

6644580 Grave Danger's foolishness has probably done more to save Handy's life than possibly anything else in the story. Which is saying something.

6644767 Huh, surprisingly fitting for Wren, even though unlike Tyrion, he actually had a stable upbringing.

6644782 The Mistress and her little gang have been quite busy as of late. Just not with Handy.

As for Handy's influence, I needed to have a story to show what a profound effect Handy's actions can have on people around him, and while I could've done a story about how that random itinerant mare he bit at the tavern before he reunited with Jacques and Thorax, and while that would have been interesting, I believe the children who he has directly interacted with would be more relevant. Given you know, Handy being the near mythical thing he is and impressionable children.

Also glad so many people love my portmentu cursewords.

6644846 No we haven't seen Megan before.

And fear not I am still playing Fallout.

6644948 Handy is a terrible influence.

6644994 You had to tempt fate didn't you?

6645042 See? You scared JBL!

6645060 I think Wren is leaning more towards Sociopath than full on Geoffrey mode.

[Slayerseba]

6645080 You got me right in the bud sire

[MrMwagf]

6645080 Well his suffering is our entertainment. It dose though leave me with wanting to see all these kids as they grow up be it work the work of fate or chance find themselves on the path to seek Handy out. They all have their own reasons for seeking him and as time passes they might stumble upon each other and together follow in his footsteps in their own grand journey. thought we might never see this as it would require quite a bit of a time skip but oh well. Handy BBEG when?

[Handyman]

6645107 ...BBEG?

[MrMwagf]

6645115 it's a shortening for "Big Bad Evil Guy" and used often as a general term for a storys main antagonist.

[Handyman]

6645125 Ah.

In that case I don't know.

[Booster Spice]

6645080

Every so often Pinkie eats something new, and ends up hallucinating me hallucinating her hallucinating me halucinating Chtuluu reading this story.

I, Think, it wears off eventually.

[hs0003]

6645080 It doesn't help that I in general suck at remembering names. So associating names with past actions from a while back is even more difficult.

[AlouetteSK]

Great to see world building, well technically world progression, but whatever. It's one of my favorite things to see that life is not tied down to everything and only everything that the protagonist does. Wren is giving off Geoffrey vibes, and here's hoping someone sets him straight before he runs off the moral cliff. Great to see Golden Eye not being stupid and thinking things more thoroughly, but at the same time it indicates even more groups gunning for our favorite Irishman, not to mention the mysterious Mistress.

[Shocks]

6645080

Seriously, do you like, have that on standby or something with your finger hovering precariously over the publish button or something?

*Whistles innocently*

[Handyman]

6645515

[Shocks]

6645516 B-But senpai! Don't you want to read about glorious sexy times between human and moon horse? T-Tis a beautiful thing!

Getting over the fact that I may have taken the liberty to add a bonus chapter involving a few fetishes I threw in for fun

[Handyman]

6645548 oh dear God what why

[Shocks]

6645565 media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvcm3ftozF1qbunx5.gif

[Handyman]

6645587 Shocks, I will destroy you.

[Shocks]

6645591 Now when you say 'Destroy me' all I hear is 'Shocks-san! You know how to push all my buttons!'