119 - A Nighttime Flight
Extended Holiday
Ch 119: A Nighttime Flight
Act 18
“So … you’re telling me your farm’s being overrun with vampire fruit bats,” Grif looked at Applejack incredulously, “and you’re not sure what to do about them?”
“Darned tootin’,” Applejack said. “We’ve had a bumper crop, but the rate those varmints keep suckin’ our trees dry, we’re barely gonna scrape by this year. Twilight tried casting a spell to help, but … you can see how it worked out,” she said as she motioned towards a set of pictures that she’d brought with her for her presentation. The mummified husks of many an apple lay dead on the ground, and some of the trees had begun to wilt.
“Surely, I’m not the only person who’s pointed out there is a solution living on this very property, not too far away from this spot, in fact?”
“What?” Applejack asked as she scratched the side of her head. “Cause, frankly, we’re willing to try just about anything at this point.”
“Well, Applejack,” Grif said as he put a wing on the mare’s back, and turned her around. His eyes were weighed down with heavy bags, and it was clear he was more than a little tired. When they had completed the turn, Grif showed her outside the compound's gate. A few yards away, some of the Thestral houses were already appearing on the horizon. “You see that Thestral with a fruit bat skin scarf, the little foal snacking on a fruit bat wing, the stand selling fruit bat skewers? That give you any ideas?”
Applejack blushed. “I, uh … see your point.”
“Look, AJ. I’m sorry. I have a few things going on right now. And with Hammer Strike gone, any piece of paperwork that usually needs his X, I have to sign instead. I’m sorry if I’m a bit short tempered.”
“So, uh … who’m I supposed to talk to about the issue, then? Is there a main leader? Am I supposed to go to Pensword, or what exactly?”
"Yeah, go look for Pensword,” Grif said as he yawned. “He’ll probably have you set up by dawn tomorrow.”
Applejack sighed. “Guess we can manage one more night, long as we keep up a guard,” Applejack mused. “Thanks, Grif. Any idea where Pensword’d be this time of day?”
“Honestly, Applejack, I’m having to remind myself what your name is constantly,” Grif told her. “That's a little above my current ability.”
“Why don’t you see ‘bout gettin’ some rest, then, Sugarcube. Looks like you could use it.”
“Later, AJ.” Grif yawned as he left the gate, letting the guard escort the stetson-wearing mare the rest of the way.
After a little searching and a handoff to some Thestral guards, Applejack was finally led into Pensword’s office, where he was busy looking over a table laden with figures and icons of ships lying over a map for some kind for reference, and a curious book written in Draconic with a picture of what appeared to be a statue portraying several humans lifting up a flag on top of a peak of some sort. He paused to look up. “Oh, hello, Applejack. How are you doing?”
“To tell you the truth, Pensword, pretty miserable. The farm’s in a bad way. Grif said y’all might be able to help us out.”
Pensword paused mid-move as his hoof rested on the tiny replica of a ship Applejack had never seen before. At least, she assumed it was a ship. The length from bow to stern seemed moreso than the average models they built today, and the breadth was clearly narrower. That, and of course, this one was made entirely of metal. “What do you need help with?”
“We need hunters, Pensword,” Applejack said honestly as she heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. “We got a plague of fruit bats eatin’ up our farm. The rate they’re goin’, we won’t have much left to harvest.”
A sudden grin sprung up on Pensword’s face. “And you are giving us free rein in your orchard? Because if we have free rein, I am sure we can move them to a place where we can farm them as well. Oh, New Unity will be on the map for Thestrals having their own fruit bat swarm.” His mouth watered at the thought. “I’ll have a team and scouts ready by nightfall. Just … don’t tell Fluttershy about this, okay? She wasn’t happy when some of the younger warriors mentioned they could hunt them to help with the problem.”
“Actually, come to think of it, ain’t it natural for you folk to hunt fruit bats anyways? You’ve been doin’ it for centuries, right?” Applejack mused as she tapped her chin. “Seems kinda fishy for Fluttershy to put up a fuss over something so common. And she has been actin’ sorta strange lately.”
“It’s because she cares about the wellbeing of all animals. It is one of her greatest strengths, though her kindness can also prove to be a weakness, if she isn’t careful.” He nodded as he closed the book. “Don’t worry, Applejack. We’ll get things going. The question is, where in the orchard would we be stationed? Is this widespread over the whole of Sweet Apple Acres, or in a more isolated portion?”
“It’s the east portion mostly,” Applejack said. “They keep nestin’ there, and multiplyin’ like rabbits.”
“Well, it is the fall, so the food is there for them to populate, but the boom should end in a week or so. Then they’ll split into smaller groupings.”
“Pensword, our apple farm is one of the largest in the area. If they spread out, they’ll just make homes in the other portions of the orchard. Please, you’ve gotta do something, or we won’t have hardly any crop left to sell!”
Pensword placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, and smiled reassuringly. Don’t you worry, Applejack. I’ll get to work on a roster, and we’ll be out in the fields tonight to arrange a roundup and hunt.”
Applejack let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Pensword. You’re a real lifesaver. How many should we be expectin’? Apples always like to show a touch of good old fashioned country hospitality, if you know what I mean,” she said with a wink.
“Twenty tops. This is going to be a delicate operation, and we need to avoid scaring them off, or they could never be rounded up properly, and it would be a pain for you.” He paused. “Also, you are already serving us a meal, so don’t worry about dinner. it is going to be nice, just go light on the foods, and stick to desserts, okay?”
“Pensword, dessert is exactly what we were planning in the first place,” Applejack said with a relieved smile and another wink. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to let the family know, so we can get everything ready for y’all. Be seeing you around sundown, then?”
Pensword nodded his head, confused by all the winking, but, other than that, he returned to his planning. “See you around sundown.”
Rarity sighed contentedly as she snuggled up to Hammer Strike on the train. It had been a very fulfilling week full of many an amorous activity ranging from romantic dinners to forging lessons to brainstorming new designs and, of course, consummating the union. “That was, by far, one of the most relaxing weeks off I’ve ever had, and that includes the spa,” she added.
“It was perfect,” Hammer Strike agreed with a smile.
“Though I’m still rather surprised you hadn’t gone to check up on the property sooner. Or ... was there another reason why you didn’t want to go back there?”
“To be honest, I had forgotten about it. There was so much going on at the time, it just slipped my mind. Though I am glad Celestia and Luna kept it in mind.”
“You had a lot of memories in that place, didn’t you?”
“Twenty-some years. Yes.”
“It was where you forged Seamripper, too, right?”
“It was actually, yeah,” Hammer Strike nodded as he thought to himself.
She smiled as she nuzzled against his neck. “You know, it still sends tingles down my spine every time I think how you made it just for me as a way to remember. It’s … very endearing.” She blushed heavily, then moved in to give her husband a swift peck on the cheek.
“I never wanted to forget you, so I did everything I could to remember.”
“Dear … if you don’t mind my asking,” Rarity said as she fiddled with her hooves, “what was it that made you like me? I wasn’t exactly anything special, after all, just a fashionista trying to climb the social ladder to fame and fortune.”
“Your personality and drive to make things better,” Hammer Strike responded without a second thought.
Rarity couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, I always thought it would have to be something more than that to get someone to really want me. I often wonder if that might not have been why I went into fashion in the first place.”
The train hissed as the brakes engaged, and the machine ground into Ponyville station. As the amorous couple looked out the window, a herd of ten Dwarves with a strange device that sparked occasionally looked stoically back. The leader stood firmly with his war hammer, while the dwarf on his right held what appeared to be a rather large scroll of parchment. A series of drills whirred in place as the Dwarves stood by next to it.
“Not even a full minute back, and I have a feeling I’m in a for a load of work,” Hammer Strike commented wryly.
“Isn’t that usually the norm with Equestria?” Rarity shot back with a cheeky smile.
“Well, at least we had our time with no interruptions,” Hammer Strike sighed.
“About time, too,” Rarity noted. “I’m guessing fate decided to be kind as a courtesy.”
“Hail to the Blue Lard!” one of the dwarves called out, and was echoed by his fellows. They stood there, as if they were waiting for permission to approach.
“What’s going on?” Hammer Strike questioned the group as he disembarked, and drew closer.
“We found this device in the tunnels. Claims ta have a message for ya,” one of the Dwarves noted.
“You mean this isn’t one of your contraptions?” Rarity asked, surprised.
“You think we’d make somethin’ like this? It’s sloppy design, substandard metals, probably the reason it broke down before reaching the end in the first place. Why, it’s a miracle it even made it that far.”
“What was the message, or where is it?”
The lead Dwarf moved forward, and handed him a … strangely artistic scroll. The outside paper was covered in gold filigree that met in a lotus pattern. As Hammer Strike unrolled it, the imagery continued on the inside. Images around the text portrayed gems, flowers, and various minor scenes. Each new paragraph had a larger capitalized letter that was part of an artistic portrayal of an event or character. A brief flash came back to Hammer Strike as he gazed on it, recalling a series of desks in rows, and a darkened room with a modified form of a crystal projector. Something about Medieval Times and monasteries. A closer look revealed the majority of the figures in the paragraphs were a variety of dogs. Assuming these images were an indicator of the sender, it was highly likely this had come from the Diamond Dogs, but last he checked, their tribes weren’t nearly so advanced, especially when they dedicated so much of their time to digging for gems, based on what Rarity had told him of the pack she dealt with. Finally, he focused on the letter itself.
To Lord Protector Hammer Strike of Equestria, Liege Lord to Grif Grafson Bladefeather,
First off, we hope this letter finds you well, and in good spirits. We wish to extend our fondest congratulations on your recent nuptials, and beg your forgiveness that we could not arrive to offer due tribute for the occasion. Understandably, we imagine such a thing would have caused no end of trouble.
Please be assured this letter is authentic, and is neither a joke nor a trap on your person. We send this in complete honesty, and with all good will. We wish only to make a formal request.
It has been brought to our attention that the Avatar of Winds, the aforementioned Grif Bladefeather, has sworn himself into your service. And, likewise, we know that you alone may have the power needed to arrange a safe audience with the avatar regarding a matter of mutual benefit. If you are unaware as to the necessity of our requests for such a guarantee of safety, feel free to ask the avatar about our species’ strained relationship. We assure you, unfortunately, that very little of the story is exaggerated.
If you should prove willing to grant us this small boon, simply place a green flag on the tallest tower of Unity a week after receiving this letter. Rest assured, we will know, and we will send a small convoy, which should arrive in early spring. Should you not act, then we will take it as a sign that you have decided not to agree to this parley.
With great hope and gratitude,
~Areon Stonepaw: Representative for the Monastery of Necessary Amendment and the Bristles Scientist Enclave. Thank you.
Hammer Strike hummed for a moment, before rolling the scroll back up. “I’ll have to bring this up with Grif, when we meet for the briefing.”
“Trouble?” Rarity asked.
“Perhaps. We’ll see, after I get Grif’s side of the story.”
A long stream of curses cannonballed through the room in three separate languages as Grif read the letter, and barely suppressed the urge to rip it to shreds.
“You can’t be considering this,” Grif growled. “It’s Diamond Dogs.”
“I haven’t thought on anything yet,” Hammer Strike said. “It involved you, so I showed you.” He hummed to himself in thought. “I don’t even know what in the world could have happened in the past to get this kind of reaction out of you. You haven’t been this worked up since Mountainside Falls.”
Grif banged a fist on the table, and took several deep breaths as the winds danced about his black and green feathers. “It’s not a short story,” he said as he took a seat, and poured himself a drink from a beaker of water one of the staff had been kind enough to leave nearby.
Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’ve got time, if you do.”
Grif narrowed his eyes, and ran a taloned hand down his face, before letting out a heavy sigh. “You're going to want to sit down for this.”
“I’m listening,” Hammer Strike pointed out as he strolled over and grabbed a glass of his own. When he’d finally settled into his chair at the head of the table, Grif began.
“Okay, well, the event itself happened 5300 years ago, but to understand why it’s so infuriating so many millennia later, we have to go way, way back, back to when Faust made Gryphons from the sky and the clouds, and, of course, from the wind itself. However, in our creation, Sleipnir placed a single hair from his mane into the core of the first Gryphons. Being a war god, this made all Gryphons warlike and violent by nature. The first Gryphons fought everything: animals, monsters, other Gryphons. It was said blood stained fields red for eons afterwards. Horrified by what we were, Faust abandoned us to decay and die by the forces of time and neglect, and we, as a race, descended into darkness. We were so short-lived back then that it was said the elders of the race could only boast fifteen or twenty winters. We had no art, no skill, no written language, and our spoken language was only just above grunting.” A hint of a smile pulled at his beak. “And then the Winds found us.”
Grif took a large drink, before continuing. “They saw what Faust had not, a glimmer of potential for redemption and more amongst us. They fostered our race, nursed that potential, and tempered it. They took our four primary traits, and redistributed them between us. They touched us with their power, lengthening our lives, so that we would have more time to learn, develop, and pass on our knowledge to the next generation. They taught us writing; philosophy; astrology; to carve stone, instead of forming nests; to harvest stormstone, and use it to make our machines fly. They gave us so many great things. Thanks to them, we rose to a point where a thousand years was a decent life, and fifteen hundred wasn’t unusual. We made peace with ourselves, and developed our code. We became masters of our lands, and, if legend is to be believed, we even once fought the Alicorns back from our lands to the point they didn’t dare approach our borders again. It was truly a golden age for Gryphons.
A shadow passed over Grif’s face as he prepared for the next leg of his explanation. “Now, returning to about 5300 years ago, give or take a decade, there was a great war with the seven Diamond Dog tribes. They invaded, and we repelled them, and chased them to their dens. We held their necks at the point of a sword, and by decree of our saviors, we pulled it back. We shared knowledge, gave them food, treated them like kin. You could say it got the point where we almost trusted them.” His face hardened into a scowl as the familiar glint of rage burned in the back of his eyes. “They returned our kindness with a knife in the back. Back then, Diamond dogs were more developed, and vastly more intelligent. They had devised their own magic through the use of gemstones. The purer and more perfect the stone, the more powerful the magic they could pull off. One night, they snuck into the lair of the grand nest, the temple of Bahamut himself, the only known Draconic holy place, and they stole five gems, gems of a purity and flawlessness that was unnatural, even by Equestria’s standards, which made sense, since they stole these treasures from a god. How they managed to do it under Bahamut’s very snout, nobody knows, but, somehow, they did. They took these gems, and using dark, twisted rituals, they–.”
Grif let out a snarl and, in a moment of uncontrolled rage, flung his glass at the wall. “They couldn’t kill the Winds. You can’t kill a god, after all. At least not nearly so easily. So, instead, they went with the next best thing. They reduced them, made their power less than a thousandth of its original strength, and then sealed them into the sky, removing their influence, and cutting every Gryphon off from their gods’ guidance. Without their protection, Faust’s curses of neglect and decay began anew. Gryphons quickened. It was slow at first, but still evident. Diseases and plagues became more common, and war....” He shook his head sadly as an oddly quiet sort of hush lulled its way into his voice. “We began again to war for power, for belief, for petty disagreements. Our numbers plummeted, Hammer Strike. Entire cities were either destroyed, or lost forever to time. And so much of our ancient knowledge was gone with them. So much wasted,” he whispered as he looked down to the table. He took a moment to compose himself, before continuing the narrative. “Less than five hundred years after that point, one Diamond Dog rose amongst his kin, and became the alpha of alphas. He took the magic stones, forged a crown out of them, and formed a great army. He attacked our lands, and the crown made for a formidable weapon.
“But the Gryphons weren’t the only ones to suffer for this betrayal. For committing such a heinous act, after all that we had done to foster peace, the Diamond Dogs’ own gods turned their backs on them, casting the same curse as Faust once had upon us. We had decayed, and continued to do so, but the curse the Diamond Dogs’ gods had cast had been filled with a righteous anger, sorrow, and regret, rather than Faust’s horror. This made the curse far more potent, and it showed. As the years passed, both sides decayed, but the Diamond Dogs’ rate was exponentially faster than our own. The fight was long, yes, but not nearly so costly to our side. Seeing the sorrow and the loss in the dogs’ eyes as their children became less and less and their kingdoms collapsed around them brought great satisfaction to our people, but it was not enough. We still had vengeance to reap.
“In the end, four warriors from four separate houses cut the king down, and divided up the gems of his crown. To this day, Gryphons and Diamond Dogs fight, though I suppose it’s more of a slaughter now. But the reason remains the same, and so the act is justified. After all, they betrayed us in a way that we can never forgive.”
A moment of silence passed as Hammer Strike mulled over all that Grif had told him. “Well … that explains that,” he finally said.
“You won’t find a single Gryphon who’d advocate for the Diamond Dogs,” Grif told him flatly.
“I’d expect so,” Hammer agreed. “Well, I leave it up to you, then. I don’t really have anything to input to this,” he said as he gestured to the scroll.
“I’ll have to speak to the clan. This … this is too big for me to say on my own.”
“Best of luck in your future conversations, then. I get the feeling they may not be the most pleasant.”
“Thanks for being discreet, at least. This … is going to take a lot of finesse.”
“At least you have less on your plate now, yeah?”
“I’m training with Zecora at night now,” Grif groaned. “My plate is overflowing.”
“I’d heard you were vanishing in the night,” Hammer Strike mused. “So that explains it.”
“Adding to my arsenal,” Grif said. “You never know what might come up.”
“Correct. So, anything that needs to be brought to my attention?”
“Nothing of major significance comes to mind. I put several minor reports on your desk, but, honestly, nothing you need to stick your nose into, I think.”
“Hopefully so. It’s been years since I’ve had a proper amount of time to relax, and now that it’s over, I’d like to ease into things.”
“Especially now that you're not a bachelor anymore. By the way, is Rarity staying in New Unity, or have you guys worked something else out?”
“She’ll be moving shop to New Unity, once we have the civilian and commercial districts completed. Then she’ll be living here. As for the first part, with the way Equestria works, it’s still something that I have to deal with. I had a long conversation with Rarity about that.”
“Anyway, I’ve got to get a nap in before sundown, and you’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on. I’ll see you later,” Grif said as he rose with letter clutched in hand. He hastily pocketed it in his sword belt, being careful to keep any signs of the symbols from the casual viewer, before making his way towards the door.
“See you, Grif. And good luck.”
Vital Spark smiled as he trotted up to a pair of rather sweaty Minotaurs and levitated a tray of freshly baked cookies behind him. “Hey, you two. Thought you could use a pick-me-up after all that practice.”
Big Guns took one sniff, and his mouth watered as his stomach rumbled. “Vital Spark, I could kiss you right now.”
Vital blushed. “Please don’t. It’s hard enough as is adjusting to that with Trixie.”
“With Trixie, eh?” Big Guns teased as he popped a cookie into his mouth.
“Oh, don’t even,” Vital cut him off. “I get enough grief from the others. You start, and I’d be sorely tempted to freeze your sorry butt.”
Big Guns laughed. “You sure you’ve got enough power to do that to all this?” he asked as he motioned to himself.
“That depends,” Vital said as he smiled darkly. “Wanna find out?”
“... You know, I think you spend just a little too much time with Clover for your own good,” Big Guns said somewhat nervously.
“Well, I do need to know how to intimidate, so I guess that’s a good start, wouldn’t you say, Iron Will?” Vital asked as he offered the platter to the other Minotaur.
“Iron Will agrees with that.” Iron Will nodded as he accepted the offering.
“So how’re the classes coming along?” Vital asked as he levitated a cookie into his own mouth.
“Iron Will believes Big Guns will soon be able to control his anger. The rest will take time.”
“As in experience with the weapons and battle, or do you mean something else?”
“... Yes,” Iron Will said with an enthusiastic grin.
“You’ve been waiting to get on that train for a long time, haven’t you, Iron Will?” Vital Spark asked with a deadpan expression.
“Iron Will can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
Vital Spark chuckled. “Well, I guess I’ll just leave you gentlemen to your fighting, then, unless you’d like to add a magic caster into the mix?”
“Iron Will doesn’t feel that would be appropriate at this time.”
Vital sighed, and shrugged. “Suit yourselves. Mind if I watch, though? I’ve been wondering how Minotaurs fight for a while now. It’s nice to compare fighting styles. You know, just in case. And besides, I brought the perfect snack food,” he added with a playful smile.
“Suit yourself.” Iron Will shrugged as the two sparring partners rose, and prepared to begin again.
“To quote a certain comedian who plays a rusty tow truck part time, ‘Oooh, this is gonna be good!’” Vital said with a country twang as he set back a safe distance, before observing as the two began their training regimen again.
Lighting Dust cleared her throat at the open door to Hammer Strike’s office. “Uh, I’ve got a message for you from Commander Pensword, Sir. In case you arrived while he was away from the city.”
“Come in. Let’s see it.”
“Uh, verbal message, Sir,” Lighting replied as she entered the office properly. “He wanted you to know that he’s leading a hunting party at Sweet Apple Acres, and that he’ll be commandeering some of the wild fruit trees we just discovered to create a habitat for some of the bats that have been ruining the Apples’ harvest. According to the commander, as per tradition of the Thestrals, you’re to be presented with a cooked meal composed of the most choice of the kills they make for your breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“All right, then. Anything else?” Hammer Strike responded as he looked up from his papers.
“Uh, a personal question, if I may?” she asked.
“I’m listening.”
“How ... often does the commander go, well, to his night roots? I mean, I’ve never heard of this kind of event before. And bats? What kind of bats do they hunt? I know they don’t eat normal fruit bats, but I have seen darker, bigger bats being eaten in their camps.”
“Uncertain, to be honest. From what I know, it’s a situational based thing, all depending on what is currently going on.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “As it stands, it sounds like you’re getting a unique meal tomorrow. Also, … the commander isn’t going to bite my head off, if he learns I asked these questions, is he?”
Hammer Strike shrugged. “I have no idea. And as for the second question, so long as I don’t have to report anything important about this conversation, then I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Lightning Dust bowed her head. “One last personal question. Did you enjoy your honeymoon? And ... did anyone try to kill you?”
“Yes, I did. And no, nobody tried.”
“Ah….” was all she said. “Just to let you know, about three fourths of the camp had a bet that you would have been attacked at least once on your honeymoon.”
“They burned most of their assassins during the preparations and the wedding itself.”
“I guess a few Gryphons and slayers will be that much richer, then.” She grinned as she made her way towards the door. “Have a good rest of the evening. I’m looking forward to your next forging experiment.” With that, she was gone, leaving Hammer Strike to his thoughts yet again.
The moon had risen high over Sweet Apple Acres, draining the trees of color as a group of twenty Thestrals, well, twenty one, if you counted Night Terror Blueblood, gathered in a clearing to prepare for the hunt. True to his roots as a well-trained commander, Pensword wasn’t going to let the young filly out of his sights. While her story of abuse and fear had been convincing enough, he wasn’t about to swallow it hook, line, and sinker. Besides, somepony had to teach her how to hunt properly. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Or two vampire fruit bats, in this case.
Unfortunately, that was proving a herculean effort in and of itself.
“No,” Pensword hissed as he pulled Night Terror back from the bush, where she’d trained an arrow on one of the nests. “You do not go–. Here. You stay here, and I’ll show you how to get the best ones.” He motioned to one of the nests with a wing. “See the little bats there? They are children. The bigger ones around them are the parents. These family units are off limits, understood? The loners and the bigger ones are fair game for tonight's hunt, but you need to make sure there are enough of the bigger ones left to help repopulate. Otherwise, we’ll just end up shrinking the population as well as the overall size of the prey.” He sighed, wondering if he was as clueless on his first hunt. He doubted it, but he knew it was best to just step forward. The girl didn’t have the benefit of being raised with a loving Thestral tribe backing her up. That was bound to have an impact on her overall performance. He snuck slowly towards the tree, being careful not to disturb the grounds or the bats as they swivelled their ears. All around he could hear the coded sounds of success from the other teams, along with the flapping of wings from annoyed bats who had already been caged, ready for transport to a special set of orchards specifically grown to house the creatures.
He was about to sweep in when a shadow suddenly passed over the moon, and dove straight for him. He spun, and kicked, but this creature had surprisingly fast reflexes. It managed an aerial spin to circle around his hind hooves, then kicked him with its own dark yellow hooves, before landing in the tree and hissing at them. It snatched an apple savagely with a single bite, and began to suck the juices dry.
For the first time in a very long time, Pensword was horrified, winded, and confused all at once. He nursed the spot gingerly. That had been quite a blow, but it would only bruise at most. He could walk it off. What he had just found was far more important. He reached into his belt, and pulled out a curiously carved wooden whistle. The images for talons and feathers had been carefully carved before the staining, followed by metalworking to add the final touches of moon and stars. He raised the whistle to his lips, then blew. The symbols glowed, and the call of a great horned owl flew into the night. He sounded it three more times, then returned the item to his belt. The signal had been sent. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the others.
A rustling in the bushes heralded the first arrival. He turned to address the expected Thestral, only to come muzzle to muzzle with Rainbow Dash. Applejack stood a short ways behind her, with….
“Applejack, the Thestral you have hogtied is with me,” Pensword groaned as he put a hoof to the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. “She isn’t going to eat your–.” He paused as he noticed something red and shiny next to the filly in question, then groaned anew. “You took an apple from a tree. Why would you take an apple from the harvest, when these bats have the Apples pressed enough as it is just to earn their living for the winter? That’s not just selfish, it’s dishonorable. Not to mention it’ll spoil your appetite for the feast.”
Surprisingly, Night Terror actually managed to look hurt at that statement. Whether it was the implication of dishonor or something else had yet to be ascertained.
Pensword sighed. “Applejack, I’ll give you three bits for that one apple. Just unrope my charge.”
“I thought y’all came here to deal with bats, not get apples,” the orange Pony said as she unroped the filly.
“Well, she is one of the staff from a noble house, who had to flee for her life, which means I get to teach her how to act more Thestral than noble.”
Applejack snorted a laugh. “Good luck with that one,” she snarked as the other girls wandered in.
Pensword took the jeering with a grain of salt. “Well at least she didn’t complain about having to eat a plain apple, so progress is progress, I guess,” he said with a strained smile. “However, we have a bit of a complication, which I believe Rainbow Dash has just discovered.” He pointed to the tree, where Rainbow Dash had flopped down on her rump, her eyes wide as she looked up into the crown, where the yellow figure had settled into a nest with the other fruit bats. “This entity attacked me, just as I was about to show young Night Terror how to make an effective strike on prey. It appeared to be very territorial about the nest’s occupants, and it clearly has just as voracious an appetite as its charges.”
“Um, guys,” Rainbow Dash gulped. “It’s not an it. … It’s a she,” she said in a strained voice. “And not just any she, either. I … I don’t know how it happened, but I think … I think that’s Fluttershy.”
Pensword rounded suddenly as he trained his eyes on the shadows of the tree. He saw her disheveled pink mane, her yellow fur, the ragged tufts on her ears, the flash of her fangs as she eviscerated another apple of its juice. And then his eyes fell on her cutie mark in all its moonlit glory. “Ho-ly! Three bats?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rainbow. You really expect me to believe the monster attacking my apples is Fluttershy?” Applejack asked incredulously.
“Hey, Twilight used her to help pacify the bats. And look at the ground around her! Those are apple husks.” Rainbow turned to Twilight, who had made it onto the scene shortly after the other two had arrived. “How can we change her back?”
Pinkie Pie hopped closer. “Hi, Fluttershy! Or should I call you Flutterbat?” she asked cheerfully.
Fluttershy hissed angrily at Pinkie, who just laughed in response.
“I know it’s not your name, but you’ve got to admit, you aren’t acting too shy at the moment. More like an angry ‘I’m gonna suck all the apples dry to feed some unquenchable thirst I have for apple juice,’ but….” She trailed that last word out as Twilight suddenly yanked the party pony away via telekinesis.
“So, um,” Applejack hemmed and hawed as she eyed the newly dubbed Flutterbat nervously. “How do we turn her back to normal? I mean, she’s still our friend and all, but my family and I can’t afford to lose any more apples.”
Pensword relaxed as he looked up into the night sky, and noticed the spiraling shadows of his fellow Thestrals. Others ghosted into the area in the manner of stealth that had made them famous during the war. “To be frank with you, Applejack, there probably won’t be a need to make her ‘normal,’ as you put it. It’s a bit unusual, I’ll grant you. We’ve never had Thestrals with a vampire fruit bat’s traits before, but we should be able to find a solution quickly enough. We’ll likely have to start by curing her of her thirst for apple juice. Her body won’t survive on a juice only diet for very long.”
One of the other Thestrals grinned. “I wonder if she’d like meat. It may be a way we can coax her down from the tree.”
Day Moon and his siblings had been foolish enough to land in the same tree as Flutterbat, only for an angry hiss and a lashing hoof to cause the trio to take off and land on a tree nearby, leaving only three dust copies of themselves in the branches they’d left behind.
“What have we here?” an older Thestral mare asked as she ambled into the gathering. Her eyes widened as they fell on Flutterbat. “A pureblood? Here?” she gasped. “But where are her parents? Surely a mare at this age should have better control of her instincts.”
Another elder replied with a grin. “It is by the blood of other ponies that we tame the more feral instincts, which is why we have never looked down upon the mixing of our bloods. What you are seeing now is something you might notice in the very young in the caves. And yet, she is clearly of age.” She looked around to the rest of the gathering. “How did this happen? How did this gift of nature occur?”
“Gift of nature?” Applejack replied looking a little angry. “She’s eatin’ our apples. And she isn’t a Thestral, she’s a Pegasus. I know there's a difference. For one thing, she should have feathers.”
Pensword paused and raised his wings, as did one other Thestral. “We have feathers, but we are Thestrals.” Pensword’s voice was gentle, but the mare recognized the silent reproach.
“Sorry,” Applejack replied as her ears drooped in shame, “but I think you know what I meant. She wasn’t–. She….”
Rainbow Dash looked thoughtfully at the other Thestrals, then at Fluttershy. “Hey, Twi? Could you–?”
“No, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said firmly. I’m not about to repeat the spell and risk you losing your mind!” she began, only to stop as one of the middle aged mares from the hunting party landed, and retorted Fluttershy’s protective hiss with one of her own. Fluttershy drew her head back in surprise for a moment, blinked, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously as the two began a conversation of chitters and hisses interspersed with the occasional squeak or shriek known to all bats. Occasionally the one or other would rail, flapping their wings, baring their teeth in a show of dominance. Eventually, it appeared the two came to a sort of understanding, and the discussion became more calm as Fluttershy folded her wings to stare curiously at the mare below, while the mare returned the gaze from the ground.
“Wait, Fluttershy can squeak?” Pinkie Pie gasped. “That is so cool, does it work like Winona’s squeaky toy? Will she do it every time I hug her? Will she–?”
“Pinkie Pie, focus!” Twilight yelled. “Just ... just stand back. I’ll undo the spell, and we can all go home to let the Thestrals finish clearing out the bats. Okay? Okay.”
Night Terror stood off to the side, nibbling on the apple Pensword had bought for her, along with her freedom from what had to have been one of the most embarrassing positions she had ever been forced to endure. She didn’t know what she hated more, the fact Applejack had bested her or the fact Pensword was actually right in his chastisement. On the plus side, this Flutterbat as some had come to call her, had proved a most opportune distraction. Now she would be able to see more of these Thestrals and their communication methods. Thanks to Pensword, she’d already learned how they utilized enchanted animal calls to send signals to one another. And it appeared they had a basic language that focused entirely on sonic communication. That would prove most useful when seeking to crack any messages they might seek to share among themselves in private. Still, the very idea that a spell existed to alter a Pony’s physiology so completely as to become like a Thestral…. She shuddered at the implications.
No words were exchanged as five more Thestrals joined the mare at the base of the tree. Fluttershy hissed territorially as she laid her wings around the bats. That was when the elder approached. Her eyes had narrowed to predatory slits as she stood her ground at the base of the tree with a curt shirek and a stamp of her hoof. She bore both her upper and lower fangs as she flared her wings and crouched low, looking expectantly into the tree.
Much to the other Ponies’ surprise, Fluttershy stopped. She retracted her wings, cocked her head a moment, stared with a furrowed brow, then leapt nimbly down from the tree to look curiously at the mare. She stepped forward, hesitantly, at first, then with more confidence, until she brushed up against the mare’s neck, like a foal seeking warmth.
“There now. There there,” the mare said as she stroked Fluttershy’s mane, then chittered gently into her ears. The other Thestral hunters turned to face the rest of the party, and more specifically the remaining members of the Mane Six, before lining up to form a living wall between them and Fluttershy.
“Is … is she going to be all right?” Twilight asked worriedly, even as more Thestrals approached Fluttershy to introduce themselves, and to embrace her. It took some adjustment, but Fluttershy eventually warmed to their touch with some gentle reassurances from the elder mare. “I mean, I can change her back, right? This was all my fault in the first place. I couldn’t bear if we … if we….”
Pensword waited for her to trail off, then smiled gently at her. “Yes, Twilight. She’s going to be all right, but it is not your choice to make whether she returns to her old self. Let those in the tribe first see if Fluttershy remembers anything. Once she has those instincts under control, it would very well be that she prefers this form to her Pegasus body. If you really care about her as a friend, you will leave the decision in her hooves.”
“But–.”
“Tell me, Twilight, do you know where and when the first transformation spells were used, what their original purpose may have been? Naturally, they are excellent for spies. We have seen that with Changelings. It is also an excellent way for families to escape scrutiny, or for certain individuals to learn about another species and culture. As one inventor put it, ‘I always wondered what being a breezie was like.’ But before all those applications were made, do you know the first intent of those spells?”
Twilight slowly shook her head. “I only know the spell to become a Breezie, because it was a challenge, and I was curious. I never really got to study much into the origins of that branch of magic. Most of the records were lost.”
“Lost, were they?” Pensword let out a hoarse laugh. “Lost. I wonder in what manner those records were ‘lost.’” He chuckled, again, then shook his head sadly. “Let me tell you about the first applications of that branch in magic, Twilight, and the motivations that fueled its research.” He sighed as he took a seat next to the princess. “As I’m sure you’re aware, long ago, my people were often persecuted, deemed lesser beings, uncivilized, uncultured, without any form of thought deemed worthy of the many Unicorn nobles’ time. Unfortunately, many such nobles desired that we be eradicated. However, since an edict had been sent forth from the crown, it was not possible to kill my people and thus steal their lands. As such, these … misguided nobles and other Unicorns like them had to find another way to achieve their ends.”
Twilight gasped. “You don’t mean–.”
“I am afraid that is exactly what I mean, Twilight Sparkle. Until Clover and another lost to time found out about what they were doing, and put a stop to it, mages across the kingdom were using those spells to forcefully ‘civilize’ my people. Those who could fled into hiding, escaped into forests or mountains in the wilderness, but there were always some who couldn’t escape. If a hunter is diligent enough, no matter how inept they may be, they will eventually get their mark.” He turned to look wistfully back at the hunting party and the pacified Fluttershy, who was feasting on some apples the Thestrals had brought with them as bait.
“They were taken, and forcibly changed into Earth Ponies, Pegasi, and for those who proved loyal servants after their change, or worse yet as traitors to their own kind, rarely Unicorns. Can you imagine, Twilight, what that must have been like? You remember, don’t you, how Discord took your horn away in the maze? You must have felt so vulnerable, so lost without that piece of yourself. Were it not for your determination to help Equestria and the support of your friends, what might have happened?”
“I … I suppose I would have had a breakdown.” Twilight looked down to the ground. “Without them, Discord could’ve torn me apart. He probably would have, too.” Her voice had grown surprisingly quiet as she pondered those words. The remainder of the Mane Six looked on, spellbound at the tale Pensword had woven.
“And Rainbow Dash, how did it feel to know that you had lost your wings, your pride, the very thing that was the heart of your special talent and the magic contained therein, before Discord explained his rules?” Pensword continued.
Rainbow Dash held her wings close to her body, and shuddered. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“I believe you see my point. They took their homes, girls, their heritage, their very being, and stripped them bare. Their talents, their strengths, in flight, in hunting, in everything were warped, perverted, limited, repressed, if not outright snuffed. Many couldn’t cope. Many … many….” He swallowed heavily to try to displace the lump in his throat. “Many took their own lives,” he finally managed. “And many more faced a fate worse than death as the madness took them. The rest adapted, because they had no choice, but the scars from the nobles’ crimes ran deep. They were never the Ponies they once were.”
“But … couldn’t the spell be undone? Rarity posed. “I mean, surely there must have been a simple means of reversing the effects.”
Pensword shook his head sadly. “The spell formula they utilized incorporated a powerful finishing spell, one designed to lock the Pony in that state for the rest of his or her days. Few, if any of the casters were capable of releasing it.”
“And ... those who couldn’t?” Twilight asked.
Pensword stared at her with the empty, emotionless gaze of a trained soldier. “They died in the attempt. That was the justice they faced, if they were unable to amend their crimes.” He looked to Fluttershy, and a single moon-touched tear streaked down his muzzle to burst on the ground below. “For all we know, Fluttershy could have been of Thestral descent this whole time, and your spell just reverted the whole spell matrix. It is feasible, given the initial lock was only applied to the first generation, and it has been many centuries since.”
Twilight looked as though she were about to speak, so Pensword cut her off with a raised wing.
“I don’t blame you, Twilight,” he said tiredly. “You are young. You did something that you thought may have been wrong to a dear friend, and desired to put it to rights. There was no way for you to have known what really happened. I should think it was a piece of history many a noble would want to forget, and would want their subjects to forget, after the thrashing their ancestors received. Don’t hold this against yourself. All you have ever wanted was to be friends with the entire world.” He smiled wryly. “Well, at least what you’ve wanted since you came to Ponyville. It is a difficult dream to achieve, but you are a mighty princess, and a powerful Alicorn. You have done amazing things, and will yet do many more, I should think. If Fluttershy is indeed the descendant of one of these Thestrals, it is quite possible that you uncovered the means for many to rediscover their heritage, a way to right one of the greatest wrongs my people have ever known. It is not something to be ashamed of, but to be commended.” He laid a hoof on her shoulder. “Well done, Princess Twilight Sparkle, and thank you. You did amazingly.”
Twilight still looked confused. “But the spell shouldn’t have done all that. It was just meant to impact desire, not change her.” She looked back to the Thestrals. “Do … do you think they’ll let me study the effects later, if … if she doesn’t want to turn back, I mean?”
“Maybe Later,” Pensword conceded. “It is likely the tribal council will wish to examine her, along with High Chieftess Luna herself. It well may be that you are right, and she is overwhelmed by instincts to the point where she will need to be changed back. Only time will tell. I believe I remember hearing stories about Iron Will and a certain event involving her becoming overly aggressive, not to mention taking on a fully grown dragon all by herself. She may have been tapping into the true nature of her bloodline without realizing it. Either way, we have to be sure, for her sake as well as our own.” He could see the worry in the mares’ eyes, and his face softened into a gentle smile. “She’ll be in good hooves, girls. Two nights with us, and no more. We’ll let you know as soon as we determine what needs to be done, and then you’ll be able to visit with her all you like, without the wall of guards.”
Twilight nodded her head. “Okay. Make it three nights, and we’ll have a deal.” She extended a hoof, and Pensword’s smile broadened into a grin.
“I see you’ve been studying. If you respect a Thestral and the deadline they set, you offer an extension, however long or short as may be appropriate,” he praised as he took the hoof, and shook.
“A girl has to study up, if she wants to be a proper leader for her subjects, right?”
Pensword nodded approvingly. “Right, indeed. Very well, then. Three nights it will be. That should give us time if anything … comes up.” He looked around the gathering, and immediately took command, standing up to address the Thestrals. “Okay. The older mares, you leave your live bats and take your prey with you. Escort our kin of the night to the elders to see just what we have here. The rest of you will finish the roundup and assist in the transfer of the bats to their new home.” He turned to Night Terror. “You, young lady, shall be accompanying the Element Holders back to Twilight's Library, where you shall use Spike’s dragon fire to mail a copy of Twilight’s report to High Chieftess Luna.” He smiled at her look of shock. “When you are done, it should be morning, so you will sleep at the Library till nightfall and come back tomorrow night with any replies the High Chieftess has sent. They are to remain unopened unless she leaves a note instructing you to read them. Am I understood?”
Night Terror nodded numbly as she slowly began to walk with the others. Rainbow Dash hung back for a time, until the girls had gained sufficient distance, before turning back to approach Pensword.
“Uh, Commander,” Rainbow Dash began, “How can, uh … that is, how do you know when … well, you know.”
Pensword gave a coy smile. “Oh don’t you worry, while I can see the desire you have to live in our culture for a time, it is well known that you have no such blood within you. You come from the blood of one whom we call Thestral by action. Rest assured, Rainbow Dash, you are a pure Pegasus, who comes from the blood of the great Commander Hurricane himself. Unfortunately, you are a descendant from the last foals in each succession of the line. As such, you had no lands to speak of to lay claim to. Of course, now that you have a title, that’s quite different, but I thought you ought to know.” He smiled widely. “I look forward to your entry into the Wonderbolts even more so than I did before now.”
Rainbow Dash looked at Pensword with confusion. “Are … you’re joking, right? Me? And my family? Hurricanes?”
Pensword looked at Rainbow Dash with a very serious expression. “I talk to the commander almost on a weekly basis. He enjoys telling me ideas about how to revitalize the military. You really think in all that time that he wouldn’t talk about those that came from his sires?”
A few hours later, Penword was flying back to New Unity. The moon hung low in the sky, waiting to be put to bed as it welcomed the passing of the torch to the sun. Celestia would doubtless be waking soon. He paused as he saw a shadow passing at a lower altitude on his left. With a tip of his body and an adjustment of his wings, he dove sideways, like the old WWII Mustangs from Earth. He smiled, despite himself. Matthew still loved the old historical pieces, and Pensword could hardly blame that part of his psyche. In a matter of moments, he’d flown down silently to the Gryphon’s Side. “Kahn, I was hoping we could talk soon. Where have you been? You’re not night born, so why the late night trips?” Pensword asked jovially. He had hoped to catch the Gryphon off guard, but it appeared Kahn either had superior senses or simply didn’t scare easily.
“Oh, Commander. I just figured it was such a beautiful night, perfect for stargazing. And with me off roster tomorrow, I thought, why not?” Kahn said.
“Okay, what about last Sunday night? And the nights where you had late shifts the following day? You have taken no less than six unaccounted night trips since you and your comrades were fully integrated, meaning you have six times where, if something happened, we would have had absolutely no clue where you were. We would have wasted precious resources searching for you that could be used for attacking the problem.”
“You have been spying on me, Commander?” Khan said with a dramatic gasp.
“Not spying, monitoring. After all, we have logs of who enters and leaves New Unity, the times they clock out, and the times they clock in. Even if you don’t use the main methods, a record is still created by the guards. I create your duty rosters each week, and it appears that your night excursions have changed with your schedule, so it is not a day specific event. It also is after sunset. Until now, there has been no act involving spying. Spying would be if I were to do something like place a pair of tails on you or create an excuse to leave the base, so I could follow you myself,” he said with a mischievous grin. “However, it is hard to keep a rather prismatic mane hair from showing on your fur coat, it would seem.”
Kahn stiffened up for a moment, before looking hastily through his fur. He found no signs of the hairs in question, and looked up at Pensword just as the sun rose, then blushed as he realized he’d been had.
“So, you and the Element of Loyalty,” Pensword began. “Any other Gryphon, and I would be reading the riot act, among other things. In your case, however, … you are going to get it worse.” He puffed himself up and took a higher position in the air. “Son, I want to see you in my personal quarters in one half hour. Because you, Sir, are courting danger.”
“If it is danger, then she has the most beautiful personality I have ever seen in a female,” Kahn almost purred. “She is so spirited, so ... alive. I feel like she will burn me, if I get too close, yet she entices me to come forward.”
Pensword looked to Khan. “And does she do this on purpose, or is she doing this unknowingly? Also, you just described tales of warning from Earth maritime mythology on top of that.” Pensword sighed, unsure of what more to say, really.
“Commander, do you honestly think me so crass as to court a woman who has no interest in me? I am not sure what kind of Gryphon you take me for, but I would never disrespect a lady’s wishes in such a way.” Kahn's face became hard, almost edging on a snarl.
Pensword took a long, hard look at Kahn. His expression was masked by the shadows generated by the rising sun. “Kahn, I do not know what to think. Love makes you do dumb things, crazy things, which is why … I would like to address you as your father. You took that oath, and right now, I am filling that role. This discussion will not come from me as your commander.” He took a deep breath, and sighed. “Rainbow’s parents, when you meet them … well, I doubt they would give you the ‘traditional’ grilling a father should give the boyfriend. As such, I feel I have to not only fill both roles, but also watch out for any security problems that might arise as a result of this relationship, should it develop as such.” His wings sagged slightly. “Heavy lies the helmet of leadership and command upon the heads of those who bear it,” he said softly as he paraphrased a line Celestia had used earlier on in her rule, just a couple of centuries after Luna’s banishment.
“Commander, I realize that I can be … impetuous with women, but there is a difference between playful flirting and love,” Kahn pressed. “This, this, I feel in my heart that I would do anything for Rainbow. I will court her while she allows it. And if she sends me away, I am convinced that it will hurt. It would hurt from the deepest regions of my heart, but I would go, if it makes her happy. I would sooner cut off my own wings right here than do anything to cause her pain. I would swear a blood oath to you right here, if necessary. I will not hurt her, because to do so would be the same as killing me.”
“Khan … I have had my fill of Gryphon blood oaths for the year.” Pensword shook his head as they continued to glide over the clouds, and watched the colors of the sky shift in the dawn’s early light. “And I told you already that I am speaking to you as a father, not as your commander. That being said, your words do help to ease some of my worries. Still, is it not a tradition for the tom to bring the female he is courting back to meet with the family?” He watched as Kahn stalled in midair for a moment, then smacked into some cloud, dispersing it, before he was able to right himself again. “Grif has taught me a little about Gryphon family cultures,” Pensword said by way of explanation. “So when do I get to meet this queen of yours?”
“I was hoping to ask her tonight. Unfortunately, she had a personal emergency, and we had precious little time together. I do hope to ask her when next we meet, however,” Kahn reported. Pensword could almost swear he saw stars in the Gryphon’s eyes as he spoke.
“Well then, you have the weekend off,” Pensword finally said. “Moon and stars know this is going to be crazy. However, that means that you will be spending it as Lunar Fang’s and my son. Not a leader in my Slayers, but a member of the family.”
In a flourish of feathers, Pensword found himself in a tight embrace. “Merci, Pappa, Merci!”
While Pensword returned the hug as they hit a cloud. Mentally he was wondering, 'What did I just do?' Was this the right thing? Only time would tell.”
“So, Rarity,” Grif asked as he performed a few of his normal pre-lesson exercises, “how was the honeymoon?”
“Oh, it was positively divine.” Rarity sighed as she allowed herself to sink towards the earth to augment the dramatic effect. “The work sessions, the brainstorming, the–” she cleared her throat “–extracurricular activities. It was truly a celestial experience, darling.”
“Well I hope you're ready, because we’re finally taking the kiddie gloves off.” Grif smiled in anticipation.
“Is that so?” Rarity asked with a smirk of her own. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Tell me, Rarity,” Grif said as he gestured to a wooden post ten feet away, “do you think I could damage that without moving or using any magic?”
“Knowing you, Grif, probably,” Rarity said. “You don’t usually say those kinds of things, unless you can, because you know someone will inevitably contradict you, and then you prove them wrong.”
“Maybe,” Grun chuckled, “but if someone else had asked the question randomly?”
“I’d probably have a hard time believing them, unless it was Hammer Strike, of course.”
“I’m sure spending as much time with Twilight as you have, you understand about air pressure and the atmosphere and all that stuff?”
“Well, naturally. One has to understand the natural workings of weather, if one wishes to maintain the perfect coiffure, darling,” she said as she flicked her mane, and it sparkled in the sunlight. For some reason, Grif’s eyesight was momentarily clouded, making everything surrounding the mare appear misty. That is, until he blinked. Then the moment was past, and everything was normal again.
“Well, if you’re precise, and fast enough, you can create just the right offset of pressurised air, and–.” Grif got into stance, and eyed his target. He made three flashing slashes into the air. Three crescent-shaped aerial disturbances launched outwards, hitting the post in succession. The first two slashes left deep gouges at the sides, and the third proceeded to cut off the top six inches of the post entirely.
“I thought you said without moving,” Rarity pointed out with a smirk. “Do slashes not count?”
Grif rolled his eyes. “Not moving from the spot. Better?”
“Much, darling. It certainly was impressive. I assume this is something anypony can develop, not just the Avatar of Winds?” she asked as she polished Seamripper’s hilt.
“With time and practice, yes.” Grif nodded. “You won’t be doing it today.”
“So what’s on the agenda, then?”
“For now, I want you to work on the delayed cut.” Grif moved to a new wooden pole. “It needs to be one smooth movement. The cut should be so perfect that the wood doesn’t realize it’s been severed for a palpable amount of time.”
“And by palpable, do you mean a few seconds or a few minutes?”
“You’ll start with seconds, then stretch it from there.”
“Excellent.” Rarity smiled as she took Seamripper into her hooves. “Then let the challenge begin.”
Grif smiled as he moved back. “Go ahead. Let’s see if you can figure it out on your own first.”
“As long as you’re willing to be patient, I think I can live with that,” Rarity said with a smile as she braced herself, and took her rapier in both hooves. “Just to clarify, darling, this is one where I can actually move, right?”
Grif chuckled. “Yes, Rarity, it is.”
“Excellent.” She smiled as she walked up to the pole in question, and struck. Unfortunately, rather than the satisfying sensation of passing through effortlessly, she felt the jarring sensation of unyielding wood against Seamripper’s pitiful bite. On the plus side, at least it didn’t break. On the down side, she would likely feel the effects of that jarring in the next day or two.
“Come on, Rarity. The enemy’s armor isn’t going to be made of wood,” Grif prodded. There were a few reasons he’d chosen this exercise, of course, but he wasn’t about to tell Rarity. He hoped the main lesson she’d take would be not to judge a battlefield, until you're on it. Her attitude at the wedding had been more than a little worrying, and Grif intended to work it out of her.
A good hour later, Rarity was still trying to succeed, and finally collapsed onto her fainting couch in exhaustion as she activated the cooling aspects that had been installed. The pole had been covered in nicks and notches, but not a single cut had made it through in the assault.
“What's wrong, Rarity?” Grif asked her.
“Nothing. Just … just taking a little rest. A minute or two, and I’ll be right back at it,” she promised as she smiled somewhat weakly back at him.
“Rarity, tell me. Do you honestly think you’ll be able to cut through that in a single swipe by the end of this session?” Grif asked her in a mild tone.
“No,” Rarity said honestly. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it my all.”
“And tell me. Had this post been an assailant, do you honestly believe you’d still be alive?”
“Well, considering I would have used a different set of techniques, it’s entirely possible. However, I assume you’re referring to this particular encounter with the failed attempts, in which case, the answer is,” she winced slightly, “regrettably, no.”
“Now how many assailants do you think would use a weak material like wood for armor?”
“I’m fairly certain we both know the answer to that one, Grif,” Rarity said primly.
“Then understand this as a friend,” Grif told her as he walked forward, drawing a seemingly ordinary rapier. It didn’t even appear to be one of Hammer Strike’s. “I can teach you many things. I can teach you to overcome things like resistance or the strength of your weapon’s material.” He made a single sweep, cutting the top of the pole. “I can teach you to delay a cut.” He swiped again, and turned to look at her as the top ever so slowly began to slide away, revealing the diagonal cut. “I can even teach you to make a cut so fine, you can put the two halves back together.” He grabbed the falling piece with a wing, and lifted it back in place. The cut seemed to have vanished entirely, when the two pieces matched up. He gave it a few smacks with his tail to show the renewed solidity. “But all of this takes time, Rarity, and your life is important to a great many people. So if we’re facing down enemies, and I tell you to only fight if you must, why would I say that?” he asked her.
Rarity sighed. “I assume because you don’t think I’m ready to handle it yet.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other, because who knows how the next time I have to protect you might go? If I have to tell Sweetie Belle you got yourself killed, I swear I will hunt you down in the next life, and lecture you until the end of days, and I’ll make you wear burgundy while I’m doing it. You understand?”
“You wouldn’t!” Rarity gasped. “It’s such a terrible color! It clashes with nearly everything I have to wear.” Then she noticed Grif’s glare, and sighed. “I understand, Grif. I wouldn’t want to hurt Sweetie Belle. I suppose I was just being a little … overzealous for the wedding.”
“Good,” Grif said curtly. “Now to the final thing before we finish for today.” Grif produced a pair of what seemed to be clear crystalline bracelets. “You have the speed down. Now it’s time to work on power. You’re going to start wearing these leg weights everywhere you go.” He held up a talon, when she moved to speak. “You’ll be able to alter their color with magic, so you can make them blend in with whatever you're wearing. These should be a fine start, but when they stop being heavy, you have to come to me to increase the density.”
“It’s a deal,” Rarity agreed.
Grif chuckled as he helped her slip them on. “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet, Rarity.”
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Good chapter. Enjoyed the Fluttershy part quite a bit.
That doesn't seem quite right
This too
Hope it helps a bit
8352094
That helps a lot.
Thank you.
8352191
8352260
That is good to hear.
Out of curiousity, what did you think of the chapter in general? I would love to hear some feedback.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.............................
Flutterbat is best pony next to rainbow dash.
Now i have a bad feeling that the song make a man out of u from mulan will be in the next chapter where rarity has to train more.
I personally liked the contex and varied interactions between characters. Especially the part with vital and will. Kinda wish u had used moon rivers cute poses as a weapon as the way to subdue flutterbat.
On a related note anyone know where i can get a flutterbat plushie?
8352795 Nope. Here, have a picture, knowing you'll never have this specific one.
pre12.deviantart.net/c1c9/th/pre/f/2016/298/6/7/laying_flutterbat_plush_by_buttercupbabyppg-dam9o2h.png
Primarily a detailed report on the AppleBats, with some very intresting variations, details on how far back history has been recorded and known about at leastt, similar to between China and the Fertile Cresent, but there would be other archeological remnants elsewhere that either have yet to be rediscovered or have been destroyed, erased over the millenia?
How many Assasins Guilds has Griff been notified about so far, accross the various countries and races, including those which either no report came back, or the report was corrupted in subtle ways?
Without visibly moving I can think of posible ways to do things, but with Grif, using his wings in extended pegasus mode as Aerophaser banks would only imply that it was possible for Dash to do effectively the same thing. Which given how she can already punch through multiple mature trees in one strike, highly suggests she already does, but doesnt realise it?
I cant remember the names of the moves. Air Slash, Kill Bill style? I havent seen the bit with putting th two bits back together and them becoming one again, since a short science fiction story about an Open Source light sabre/laser blade released on the net before it could be blocked.
The Diamond Dog tunneler was from The Old Days, once someone had managed to Total Recall it, which is why it was in bad shape, the techniques for the materials been lost so lesser materials had to be used to repair it?
Wouldnt knowlege of the prior existance of lost civilisations be targeting points for temporal archeologists, given Sombra managed to do it for an entire country? That is, its lost to history at that point in time, so you go back, throw it into a stasis bubble pocket dimention, come back to the present, letting the stasis bubble follow through time at the normal rate, then when you return, open it up and take the stuff out, which leads to the occasional story about virul infections and attacks from the past, released evils etc?
Is Rarity totally happy with how things are, or is she already considering ways to keep Hammerstrike from getting bored, and so gazing at the Kanji for two wives under one roof?
8352267
Well I can't wait to see what will happen to Flutterbat, and a little surprised no one tried to assassinate Hammerstrike on his honeymoon.
Overall I'd say you've done a fine job at making suspense for the next chapter.
Rating: S
8369519
Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm sure the rest of the EH team will reflect my sentiments. You'll find that the grammar does improve further into the story. I'm working on revising the earlier chapters for re-posting, but we're waiting till all of them are fully revised first. Please, continue to comment. We love hearing what our readers think of the story and its progress.
Thanks again,
~Vital Spark
Head Editor of An Extended Holiday
I Haven't started reading- But the fact i see this number makes... drool
43,250 Words ... On one chapter....
Oh god the droool....
Excuuuse me