An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

123 - I’ll Fly Away

Extended Holiday
Ch 123: I’ll Fly Away
Act 18

---

The next two-and-a-half days were spent with items being sorted and loaded aboard the Gantrithor. What hadn’t been taken or destroyed was marked for auction in Gryphelheim. True to his word, Grif had seen the food from the pantry parceled up and distributed in the village towards the clanless and some of the poorer families. Anonymously, of course. Gryphons were too proud to accept charity, after all. He also had forgone all but a fraction of his share of the treasury, having the beaks put aside to provide more aid when they were away. At the advice of Hammer Strike, Grif had appointed the blacksmith Aidin to act as governor. The mansion itself was to be converted into a communal living space. The staff could leave to find new employment or, if they lacked a place to go, they were welcome to stay and act as paid stewards for the building.

Grif and the others had just finished lunch on the third day as the last of the crates were being loaded. “I won’t miss this place,” he admitted as he, Pensword, and Bellacosa signed the last of the paperwork next to the gangplank.

“I do agree with you there. This has been trying on my nerves, and I still feel like Gryphons will swoop down to attack me at any moment, despite all the time that’s passed,” Pensword grumbled as he rubbed his inky hoof in a cloth.

“Do you think they’d really be able to do much here, though?” Cosy asked as he levitated the quill he’d been using back to the porter, then sighed. “So many were starving. What that king did to these people is just terrible.”

“We’ll be starting to turn that around, right Grif?” Pensword asked.

“We’ll be trying,” Grif said with a shrug. “There’s no way to be sure.”

“And we can’t even set up a fund for them or something like that, huh? They won’t accept it,” Cosy said as he shook his head.

“We’re a proud race. Comes with age, I guess,” Grif said as he gazed over the town. “I put money away to try, at least.”

“From what you and Hammer Strike have said, it sounds like that smith– Aidin? –will probably find a way. Smiths are pretty practical about those kinds of things,” Vital Spark said as he finished the last bite of a ham and cheese sandwich made from boar meat.

“That's the hope.” Grif nodded as the solicitors and other Gryphons who would review the paperwork nodded their approval. He then turned from them, taking wing to board the Gantrithor properly. “It’s some hope at least”

“Here, here,” Pensword responded as he took to the air with his family. “It will.” He lapsed into silence till he arrived safely on the deck, then spoke to Grif directly. “Does that mean we will be coming back once a year or more to check up on things?”

“No. I think we’ll just receive updates. We should only return if it becomes necessary. Otherwise, the Gryphons might get suspicious.”

“You know, it’s really annoying when you guys do that. Not all of us can fly yet, you know,” Vital grumbled as he reached the top of the gangplank with a giggling Cosy following closely behind.

“Thats your mistake,” Grif responded as a playful smirk began to pull at the edges of his beak.

“If you say one word about ascension, I swear I’ll stuff that beak full of your own crest feathers.”

“Yes,” Grif’s smirk pulled into a full blown grin. “In that mystical fantasy realm where you can catch me,” he said as he idly dodged a bolt of magic from Vital without even acknowledging it, though one of the crewmen certainly did as a surprised squawk rang over the deck.

Vital blushed heavily. “Sorry!” he shouted.

“I thought magic wasn’t to be used on deck,” Hammer Strike said with a chuckle as he made his way out from the holds, and looked to the half-frozen crewman.

“Should I send him to the brig?” Grif asked with a devilish grin.

“I sure don’t see a problem with it, but perhaps this time we’ll settle with a warning.”

“Why do you guys take so much pleasure in torturing me?” Vital complained.

“Because it’s just too easy sometimes,” Hammer Strike said.

“Agreed,” Pensword said with a wicked chuckle.

“Anyway, Vital being easy to tease aside, let's get the checks done. I’d like this place to be a speck on the horizon before nightfall,” Grif noted.

“Sounds good to me,” Pensword responded with a smile.

“I guess I should see about unfreezing that crewman’s butt, huh?” Vital said with a sigh and a longsuffering roll of his eyes, before making his way to his unfortunate victim. The Gryphon in question folded his arms, and gave an annoyed glare. The damage was quickly reversed, and Vital apologized, before racing into the ship to get to his quarters. He’d had enough of making a fool of himself for one day.

“Well … this has been an interesting trip so far,” Hammer Strike commented.

“Let’s hope this is the last interesting trip we have out this way,” Grif said as they entered the bridge. He moved quickly through the checklist to ensure proper liftoff protocols had been followed. “May I never have to see this place again.”

“And now we are coming back sometime in the future for sure,” Pensword muttered. “You said ‘never’ and ‘again,’ Grif. How many times have you warned Vital Spark about that sort of thing?”

“Not if he doesn’t want to,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “After all, with the clan Grif has, I’m pretty sure if something pops up that there’ll be someone who can take the order.”

“Perks of being a mercenary warlord,” Grif chuckled. “Now let's get out of here.” He gave a curt nod to the helmsmen, and the engine thrummed as the Gantrithor took off.

“I’m curious of what the next place will be like, and if the general reactions will follow once more,” Hammer Strike hummed to himself. “Conversing with other Gryphons was difficult, to say the least.”

“Agreed on that,” Pensword muttered.

“What was it like on your end?”

“Disconcerting. I feel … overwhelmed. I was given respect towards the end. Six children were following me by the end of the day. The museum was informative. Still, I just don’t know what happened. I just learned I am somewhat considered the way some view Rommel.” He sat down heavily on a free chair. “I seemed more an oddity, a curiosity, than a person to them, though I suppose that makes sense, being a Pony in a Gryphon land.”

Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle. “Funny. I couldn’t get much of a word in with most Gryphons. They avoided me, actively trying to stay out of my sight at times. The few I did converse with either didn’t know who I was or were trying their best to keep a straight face to show they were made of something tougher. They still couldn’t keep the fear out of their eyes. I don’t know why they try, truth be told.”

“We’re a race that’s spent millennia honing the art of war,” Grif told Hammer Strike. “We repelled the Alicorns, we bloodied the Pegasi, we chased the Diamond Dogs underground, and we raid the Minotaurs for fun. In all of our collective history, we have had only one opponent so prolific as to hand us a total defeat. And according to records, that was you.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “I still wonder how much of written history is right about these things. The idea of me being a force more destructive than what is supposed to be an empire of Alicorn’s…. It just doesn’t feel too right to me.”

“They don’t feel right to me either,” Pensword respond as Lunar Fang divebomb kissed his head. “Still, we should be ready for the next event.” He looked at those on the bridge. “We will be the first Ponies to even be nearby a royal Gryphoninan wedding, not to mention an imperial one.”

---

Me-Me glowed with pride as she inspected her newest iteration of soldiers. The metallic red ‘Lings were twelve percent larger than the last generation, with a thicker, but lighter shell that allowed them greater maneuverability in combat. She could already see the vast improvements as she watched them spar. After a careful consultation with Silver Spear, she’d added several additions to their brain chemistry based off the readings they’d gained from his own. Already, she could tell they would be much more effective in combat. Furthermore, she began to notice more originality and sense of self amongst her children. Some were beginning to sprout manes in a variety of colors.

Further down the chamber, she eyed her newest project, the heavy drones. She’d taken her basic soldier design, and adjusted it to something similar to the stag or rhinoceros beetle. They all were seventy-five percent more muscle and sinew than their bothers, with shells made of thicker, sturdier chitin. They would be much slower to adjust in combat, but anything in front of them could be crushed. According to her analysis, they should be strong enough to punch a hole straight through her mother's behemoth drones without much effort. And being less than half the size meant they would be easier to lay and sustain. She’d have to remember to thank Grif for the extra human books on genetics, and surprisingly, engineering. It had come as a shock to her to discover that many concepts humans could do with machinery, she could mimic within the genes of her children. The effects were already obvious. By adding additional iron to the diet of every Changeling, she was able to genetically create a gland that harvested the additional iron, and converted it in the use of creating a bio-organic metal, which was grown right in the surface of the shell.

<Sister,> the smaller Princess spoke anxiously as she strode in, and looked about the cavern, particularly at the newer units in the hive. She quickly made her way to the queen’s side. <How long do you plan to torture me with this waiting, before you place me through the forced change? It is your right to force me to become your next heir, if you so desire, after all.>

<I would never torture you, Pupa,> Me-Me responded gently, <nor will I ever force you to do something you wouldn’t wish to do yourself. I will create my own royal daughters, when the time is necessary. You have nothing to fear from me.>

<Then what is to become of me? You’ve kept me from starting my own hive, and you’ve tied my mind to you and your first consort.> A mental whimper passed through. <Will I become nothing more than materials?>

Me-Me’s mind recoiled at the thought. <Mother may have made it so your body would be prepared for a hive by now, but you're not ready yet, my dear sister. Your mind is not yet mature enough to handle the burden of a hive on your own, which was no doubt a plan of mothers to keep you subservient to her, even after she was forced to step down. You couldn’t even sense my intentions, despite the link we share.> Me-Me nuzzled her sister gently, encouragingly. <One day, my sister, I will release you to do as you will. But until I know you’re safe from Mother’s scheming, I will keep you here, where you can grow, learn, and adapt at your own pace.>

Pupa furrowed her brow. <What has this hive become? You speak like no queen has ever spoken before.>

<Free,> Me-Me answered simply. <This hive is not a slave to one mind. It doesn’t march to the will of one singular note, but rather, we all sing together for the betterment of each other and those who help us. In this way, we ensure safety and security to everyling from the mighty praetorian to the humble worker to the queen to the smallest larva.>

Pupa gave her a very confused look. <That … sounds like chaos,> Pupa muttered. <What’ll the council say, if they learn of this?>

<The council of queens only hold power within the Badlands, Sister.> Me-Me laughed. <I would be greatly entertained to see them try and force their will on this hive this far into Equestria with Hammer Strike living above it.>

Pupa’s eyes widened. <The one that went after our queen lives above us? I thought he lived with Celestia and Luna.>

<Pupa, you weren’t at the attack on Canterlot,> Me-Me said sadly. <You haven’t seen the crimes our mother is guilty of. Lord Hammer Strike is a good Pony. Had he not stood before her, Mother would have hurt a good many innocent beings, and doomed our race to extinction.>

Pupa flinched as a barrage of images and sensations flooded her mind. She saw the carnage, felt the single-minded will to swarm, harvest, and feed. While this was perfectly natural for a hive, she still couldn’t suppress a shudder. She felt the lust, the relish in the pain. The harvest brought a cruel sort of pleasure, one Pupa did not wish to feel again.

<Think on what you have seen and felt, little sister. Those came directly from my personal memories of the battle, and my memories of service under Mother’s control.>

Pupa did her best to keep a straight face as she looked up to the queen. <I … will try.> The emotion was raw, the imprint too real for any major alterations to have been made. That left her with some very unpleasant thoughts to consider. She got one concept, however, a glimmer of a thought from the queen’s worried consciousness. Even if she was a welcome guest in the hive, she was also a political prisoner.

---

Pensword banged his head on the mess hall table. “Grif, do we have to listen to every single flyer that lands on our ship with offers of resupply or rest overnight? I don’t know which is better: them shaking in their feathers or being superfans at seeing the Avatar and the Demon. I am just….” Pensword sighed, trailing off.

“I’m not sure how the laws of hospitality work for Thestrals,” Grif said as he eyed Pensword, “but to Gryphons, the laws are just as strict for the guest as for the host. We are flying over their lands. We are using their airspace. To ignore them or refuse to see them would be a grievous insult, and dishonorable. Most of them are used to clan leaders or kings demanding goods or services without a second thought. If I’m going to change my people, I might as well start with the small things.”

“I know, I know,” Pensword moaned. “But can we try to keep the mood whiplash to a minimum? I get ready to fight verbally, and they are nice. I am ready to greet them in a friendly manner, and they react with anger and fear.”

“Then be stone faced,” Grif told him. “Ambivalence will at least keep you from making the wrong move.”

“Well, hard to be ambivalent when you don’t understand half of what is being spoken.” He looked at the table. “I wish I had Matthew’s mind for language, but I don’t.”

“Even if he did, I don’t think it would help him learn a language with no Earthly equivalent, save for birdsong,” Grif noted.

“I know that, but Matthew is stubborn. If he ever gets back to his body, he will try to speak it.” He shook his head ruefully. “He wishes to remind you, how many nights did I go off on some random historical topic full speed without a care?”

“I’d wager a countless amount of times,” Hammer Strike commented as he entered the area. “What’d I miss?”

“Pensword’s getting antsy at all the people trying to either get favor from me or keep you from scorching their land with fire,” Grif noted. “He’s also put off that he can’t understand our language.”

“With all the Gryphons around New Unity, I’m sure if you’re desperate, someone could potentially teach you, or just have a large group of Gryphon mercenaries at your compound for ten or so years,” Hammer Strike shrugged.

“It is slow going. Don’t we have one of those translation medallions, or are they all keyed to Draconic?”

“I have some rings, but those are for the wedding, as they're only going to last a few days,” Grif noted. “Other then that, you’ll have to make do with a translator.”

“Very well,” Pensword replied. “Are you at least having fun, Hammer Strike? Or are you getting bored?”

Hammer Strike shrugged. “It’s been interesting. I’m not so much bored as inactive. I find interest in the scenery, but other than that, I’ve been … just kind of sitting here.”

“Not like the old days, huh, partner?” another familiar voice chimed in.

“What was that?” Grif asked.

Hammer Strike had a look of realization as he turned faintly. “Remember the sword I came across in town just a few days ago? Well, say hi to Derflinger.”

Grif chuckled. “Well, of all the blades of eight you could find, that has to be the most hilarious.”

“Yep,” Hammer Strike replied simply.

“You know what the name means?” Grif asked.

Hammer Strike nodded. “Almost fitting.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that funny,” the sword protested.

“What does it mean?” Pensword asked. “It sounds German.”

“It’s Gryphic for smartass,” Grif chuckled. “The sword’s real name is lost. The sword’s personality is developed in such a sense that it has become known as ‘the smartass’ to our history.”

“Well, that does seem–. Did you say Eight Blades? Doesn't Daymoon have another? You said they were lost to time, and yet we have two of the eight.”

“Yes,” Grif confirmed. “This is more the older brother to Shadowsbane. It was made to eat mana.”

“So little bitty Shady finally decided to come out and play with the big boys, did he?” the sword laughed.

Pensword closed his eyes, and began to count backwards from twenty as he breathed in time to steady his nerves.

“Derf is an … old partner,” Hammer Strike started. “Really old partner.”

“Well I’d have him keep himself out of sight for now. Not sure how the Gryphons would react to you, of all Ponies, having one of these swords,” Grif chuckled.

“Oh, it’d be hilarious. I’m almost tempted, but I’ll trust you on it.”

“Very well,” Pensword said as he rejoined the conversation.. “I wonder how everyone is faring back home,” he wondered aloud.

“It’s Equestria. My best guess, chaos with a harmonic resolution on the side.”

---

Twilight Sparkle ran her left hoof up and down her right hoof nervously as she stood in front of the long house by the Thestral lodge. It had taken longer than the three days. In fact, Fluttershy hadn’t been seen all winter, though from what Applejack had been saying, the animals at Fluttershy’s cabin were still being cared for, albeit with help from Luna’s royal guard.

The doors opened, and Fluttershy walked out of the lodge. Her tufted ears twitched as she squinted to adjust to the harsher daylight. Her pink butterflies had shifted to bats, instead, though the harsh blood red had mellowed out somewhat to a lighter orange.

“Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy smiled, showing her fangs as she pulled an apple from her saddlebag, and took a bite out of it. “Yeah, it’s me.” She finished her snack, then walked up to her friend, and gave her a hug. “And before you say anything, Twilight, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” Twilight yelled, then laid her ears back guiltily. “Sorry for the yelling, but…” She turned her head. “I changed you, Fluttershy.”

The former Pegasus smiled patiently as they broke out of their embrace. “And that’s okay, Twilight. It’s actually the reason why I’ve been gone for so long. When Luna and Celestia heard what happened, they came as quickly as they could. They put me through a lot of tests, and, well … it turns out Pensword was right.” Her voice, while still soft, held a little more confidence behind it.

“And … how did the animals take it?”

“They actually took it pretty well. Angel seems a lot happier seeing me like this, and the rest of the animals still know it’s me in here. I just look a little different is all.” She sighed as he ears drooped. “Mom and Dad didn’t want to join me, though. And my big brother, Zephyr, he’s gone off to some Thestral town somewhere to try hitting on the mares there.” She shook her head disappointedly. “I don’t know if this is his way of trying to find a wife or just a way to try to get over losing Rainbow Dash to a Gryphon.”

“Well I’m sorry to hear about your parents. They don’t mind you being a Thestral, do they?” Then Twilight’s eyes widened as she whipped her head round to gaze at Fluttershy. “Wait. You have a brother? And what was that about Rainbow?”

“Well,” she looked around nervously. “I don’t think I can answer that question in the open area of the Lodge.” She squinted. “Plus, I’d rather not have Rainbow trying to race me just because I have a new set of wings.”

“Sure. Sure. Just....” She sighed. “Let’s get all the surprises out of the way first. Like … have you...?” Twilight glanced guiltily at a patch of grass.

“Eaten meat?” Fluttershy finished. “No, but I have branched out to other fruit juices, like peaches and pears and Mangos.” She quickly swallowed the drool pooling in her mouth. “It looks like I’m from a fruit bat line. They were all magically changed before Clover got involved. We're about as rare as a prophet in Gryphonia, so, uh … when we go adventuring, I might have some Thestral guards sent to protect me. Like … all the time?”

“How do you know that?” Twilight squeaked. “Even I didn’t know that, and I’m supposed to know everything!”

“Luna,” Fluttershy replied with a chuckle. “She’s been teaching me a lot. And she might have some things to tell you tonight, too, if you don’t mind staying a while? That is, if you want to.”

Twilight smiled in relief. It really was still their Fluttershy. “I suppose I can set aside some time in my schedule. I’ve always wanted to study other cultures, and now that we have a whole new subspecies within the tribes, I have so many questions! Are you nocturnal? What about–?”

Fluttershy just laughed as she led her friend inside, and the doors closed slowly behind them.

---

The party stood on the bridge as the “fort” came into view. The word couldn’t even do it justice. The structure was massive, even from the distance. The magical display pulsed out to scan the structure, before projecting a holographic rendering. Six major walls circled around the main fortress, each several miles wide, and becoming taller and thicker with each layer of defense. Intermittent air docks held combat vessels at the wait for any aerial counterattacks, totaling a good four battalions. Each dock had a series of towers nearby to cover the launches. Ballistas, lightning rounds, storm core cannons, and many more weapons peeked out from every crevice, waiting to fire on any adversary that would dare to strike their charges. The sixth wall towered over its siblings, constructed by carved stone with multiple overhangs to help fend off barrages and aerial attacks. The roofs of the surrounding buildings had been coated in spikes, making them a deadly trap to friend or foe.

Pensword stared in awe. “This is the Great Western Fortress?” He walked closer to the windows on the starboard side, and looked it over. Even he would have found this fortress a challenge, and that was saying something, given his track record. He was sure that not even a Dragon could hope to take it. He blinked in surprise as his sharp eyes honed in on heavy metal protrusions along the innermost rock face. “Those are hangar doors!” Pensword yelped. “Those things could fit the Gantrithor easily. Just how big did they build their airships back in the day?” Turrets and trebuchets protected the entrance, alongside pivoting barrels that thrummed with electric energy. He watched idly as Caring Circlet pulled up the scanner to identify any other weapons they may have missed, among other things. A sense of uneasiness grew steadily within him the closer they got as ping after ping alerted them to just how strongly fortified this place really was. “This place could take down even the Gantrithor,” he gasped.

“There are two such fortresses in the empire,” Grif explained. “They’re used to house the emperor. He finds safe haven within them in times of trouble. They’re guarded by the Emperor’s Talons, an elite group of Gryphons who are loyal to the emperor and the emperor alone. No enemy has ever breached this place. No force has claimed it. This fort stands a testament to what our people once were.”

“And it looks totally maintained. Just how many are retained just for keeping this place running?” Matthew remembered costs for England’s restoration of major castles, a process that easily ranged in the Millions, if not more. Then again, pollution and grime was not yet known in this world. “Or is that a closely guarded secret?” Pensword added with a laugh.

“Fifty thousand Gryphons,” Grif replied. “Most of them live in smaller domiciles within the stone below, but the barracks keeps no less than twenty-five-hundred ready and able warriors active at any given time. That's not including the servants and laborers. This is probably the one place even clanless can find steady work.”

Vital Spark whistled as he eyed the ramparts, where score upon score of Gryphons stood shoulder to shoulder, glaring out into the horizon. “That’s definitely nothing to sniff at. Have any of the usurpers tried before?”

Pensword looked at the walls as they passed over the first, which was half as tall as the Great Wall from the Kitsune Empire. The width was as thick as the entire Tower of London. Each space between the walls were the length of the Gantrithor. Entire cities could live within the walls, and most likely did to support the complex. “If they did, I would give them … the first wall at most, before being overrun,” Pensword muttered. “And that’s not counting the tunnels and rooms inside the walls. Even I would leave this place alone.” Lunar Fang and Fox Feather stood at either of Pensword’s shoulders as they watched the ship’s shadow pass silently over the second wall. It was here that Grif was able to make out giant shields adorning the walls of the hangar. What surprised him, and maybe unnerved him, was the fact that one of these shields was brand new, and the mark of the Bladefeathers shone brightly upon it.

Above the doors along a ridge that would house archers, and most likely evokers in times of war, were the individual seals for each of the royal bloodlines that had held the bloodstone throne. These seals covered only half the length of the main fortress, which towered over them as they got closer. Flags holding Daedalus’ family colors whipped atop the spires and hung from the walls as they approached. Pensword was still pushing through the calculations. “Grif, if we transported Cloudsdale at its current elevation to this location, the Fortress would be at least sixteen stories above the base cloud levels.”

“Pegasi aren't the only ones who can fly,” Grif chuckled, “but I seriously doubt the schematics for Cloudsdale were handed down by gods.”

“So this is like Noah and the ark?” Vital asked.

“An apt comparison,” Grif nodded. “The winds gave us the plans to build these fortresses, places to go in times of danger or need. According to legend, it took over a millennium to complete them.”

“I believe it. It looks like something out of Maze Runner.”

“What is that?” Pensword asked.

“Think of a giant maze with that many rings or layers, if not more, each with pivoting challenges, changing walls, and attacking you with fearsome, deadly creatures. You’re stuck in the only safe zone in the center as your start point. Problem is, once you find the exit, the safe zone is no longer safe. It was a pretty dark book, but the plot was well written,” Vital said as they passed over the third wall.

“Either way, we can be sure we’ll be safe inside the fortress, so long as we don’t do anything rash,” Grif explained. “Daedalus won’t allow violence, unless it’s reactionary.”

“Of course. And the only violence I will do is in reaction to anything they do to me,” Pensword responded. So since we won’t act first on either side, we can be relaxed.” He breathed a sigh of relief as his wings lowered to his sides, and drooped ever so slightly.

“I’m pretty sure violence won’t be needed from me at all, even if something were to happen to me,” Hammer Strike commented.

“I am not surprised,” Pensword deadpanned.

Grif looked to Avalon and Shrial. “Either of you been here before?” he asked.

Both shook their heads as they looked on. “It really is incredible,” Avalon said as she looked over the houses and armories within the rings. “I wonder if they have anything about the invokers hidden here.”

“Avalon, we’re here to behave, remember?” Shrial added playfully. “It’s a wedding, not a research mission.”

“But Shrial, didn’t you know? Knowledge is one of the best gifts a warrior could ask for,” Avalon said with a teasing smirk.

“There will be time to scour the libraries later,” Grif assured Avalon with a chuckle. “I find it amazing how you can be so energetic so soon after giving birth.” He laughed as he looked back to the cub sleeping on his back.

“We females recover very quickly, you know. Years of putting up with the not-so-fair sex. Present company excluded, of course,” Avalon said as she planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

“Well, the doors are beginning to open, and with the slowing down of the engines, and passing over wall four, I think we are going to be docking fully for disembarkation in another five to ten minutes,” Pensword observed.

“Grif, would they happen to have any market districts in this place?” Rarity asked.

“Sort of. It’s more small supply runs amongst the staff. You pay the right person to procure what you need.”

“Oh. I was hoping to get a look at some of their armor for inspiration. It’s not often a girl gets a chance to see other cultures like this, you know.”

“You’ll get a good chance to see our armor, Rarity. There’ll be a few thousand suits of it at the wedding,” Grif smirked.

“And their weapons: usable, ceremonial, and the modern, I think,” Pensword added.

“They won’t mind if I carry a sketch pad, will they?” Rarity asked.

“I don’t think so,” Grif laughed. “Just leave Seamripper in your room.”

“So long as they don’t try to take her, I’m perfectly fine with that,” Rarity said daintily.

The Gantrithor at that moment slipped from daylight into the belly of the fortress, windows and ledges were build perfectly for the ship. They were able to slip smoothly into the docks as Gryphons stood at attention spread out all over the walkways. A few were flying high up in the air. They could make out five more smaller airships hovering lazily at their moorings. It made for an impressive sight as a series of glow stones were triggered by the workers, giving off the light to see the chamber as the doors began to close behind the ship. Pensword paused. “Grif, the length of this hanger is big enough for two Gantrithors nose to nose.”

“Remember, airship is the common mode of travel for the rich,” Grif explained. “The fortress must be prepared for any number of guests.”

“Reminds me that I need to work more on our airship docks,” Hammer Strike commented, before giving a sigh.

“One thing at a time, Dear. One thing at a time,” Rarity said as she patted her husband consolingly on the back.

The ship soon stopped, and they made it to the gangway to begin their journey down the ramp towards the waiting party on the stone dock.

Grif placed Taze on Avalon’s back as Gilda handed him his weapons harness. He strapped Vigilance and Vengeance to his back with care. Once he believed they were sturdy and presentable, he descended down the ramp in a carefully practiced step. As he reached the stone floor of the hangar, the Gryphons along the path thumped their spears. Once he was down, he waited patiently as Kalima, Thalia, Avalon, Shrial, Cheshire, and Gilda disembarked, making sure Shrial and Avalon were right beside him as he walked down the path with the cubs on their backs.

Pensword, Lunar Fang, Fox Feather, Moon River, Day Moon, Inigo, and Cristo began to walk down the steps, with Cosy in front. The Gryphons thumped their spears yet again for the Ponies as they walked past.

Next came Vital Spark in his leather armor. Watcher sat once more on his back as he made his way down the ramp to follow after his friends. The expressions on the guards’ faces remained glaringly neutral. It reminded him of the guards at Buckingham Palace back on Earth.

Afterwards came Hammer Strike and Rarity. If anything were to break the mask of neutrality on the guard, it would be the sight of Celestia’s ghost descending the ramp. To their credit, most remained in position, even as they paled at his sight. Many of the workers in the crowd gasped audibly. It was certain all eyes were on the couple as they crossed the threshold.

Inside the fortress, Grif found himself personally greeted by Daedalus, who was flanked by Jirrac Cloud Claw, fully arrayed in the robes of the Winds Father. Without words, he walked up to each, and grabbed them by the back of the neck, pressing his forehead against theirs in respect and camaraderie. Finally, he took in the third figure, who Grif guessed was Daedalus’s bride to be.

“Well met, Prophetess.” He offered her his talons.

The prophetess was about the size of Grask. Her avian species was very hard to place, but she had a long golden beak with milky white eyes surrounded by black bands. Her feathers were a vibrant red, and her neck stretched longer than the average Gryphoness, almost swan-like, but with thicker muscle, and a little shorter. An emerald-green band popped luminously where her neck met her shoulders. A goldenrod yellow crest jutted out from the top of her head. Her wings mirrored the patterns along her neck with the same bright red leading down to the edges of her primaries, where a white band separated the red from green tips. Grif could tell the feathers had been dyed, and yet, somehow, the colors seemed to be taking hold. Her feline side was lithe and small, somewhere between awkward kitten and fully grown feline. Her fur had been dyed a fresh bubblegum pink, though Grif’s sharp eyes could see the beginnings of change among the Gryphoness’ roots. While some were a lighter brown, others were clearly naturally pink.

“Welcome, Avatar. I’d say congratulations are in order. I hear the songs of new life, yet the cub is named for one that came from another land that few here, if any, shall see.” Her beak turned up in a grin.

“It was my wife's choice to name the cub. I believe if they work so hard bringing the new life into this world, it should be their right to pick the name, and my right simply to suggest.” He took her talons in his own, then kissed the back of them gently, before releasing them.

“Ah,” she replied playfully as her tail swished about. “Still, your words, what where they? ‘Tazeer, my son, may your name cause your enemies to shudder, and your friends to rejoice. And may they sing songs of you from now till time’s end.’” She giggled again. “I have to say, you have an eye for your children’s actions.” She turned her head to look him with one eye. “So, we finally meet beak to beak to beak.” As she spoke, a strange sense of dejavous itched at Grif’s human memories. What did she remind him of?

“Truly a legendary meeting: an emperor, the Winds Father, a prophetess, and the Avatar all in one of Gryphonia’s greatest strongholds for an imperial wedding.”

The white eyes glowed a little. “This wedding has not happened for over a thousand years, not since the crimes and shame committed to our lands, and the loss of our gods.” She turned to look fully again at Grif, her expression serious, and her eyes fully engulfed in white light. “If you wish for death to lose the sting, and regain what will one day be lost, you must meet and accept the dogs’ appeal the week after the bill is passed.”

The growl that emanated from Grif’s throat seemed to echo through the room. Every Gryphon knew ‘the dogs’ could only refer to one thing: Diamond Dogs.

“Will you doom the Winds to never return? Grask’s pride stopped it, and we had to wait till you came again. If Grask had humbled his temper, you would have been born in a golden age, seated at your rightful place as heir to your father’s legacy in the clan.” Melody shook her head sadly. “It is now up to you to bring that age to your children’s children, or else have them suffer another thousand years as we continue to fade.”

“I hear you, Prophetess,” Grif managed, though the words fumbled in his beak. They felt heavy and clumsy. “Thank you for your knowledge.”

“It is nothing, for I have much to regain, and much to make up for the hubris of others. Many wrongs must be righted. Had I been courageous enough to take the path I was meant to in the beginning, much of this bloodshed could have been avoided.” She sighed heavily, then smiled, and warmth filled the room. “But enough of sadness and regrets. In two days’ time, a prophetess shall sit upon the throne, with the child emperor on her right upon the bloodstone, and the Avatar moving at the heed of the Winds. The cubs shall bring back the parents, and restore what light was lost,” she spoke. “It is an old prophesy, one many thought broken when Grask failed. These words were uttered by the last prophetess to have spoken to the Winds themselves. As it was then, so it is now. And as she uttered, so I now utter. These words will be fulfilled, so long as you do not lose your way, Avatar. Her words were heavy. “And with their return shall the fires cool, and healing begin. For on the day a Gryphon sits upon Luna’s Domain shall the hate be cooled completely.” A mix of warm and cool air swirled about them in response. “Now, come. Come. You must have words for my future husband, and myself. Ask away, Grif, son of Graf, Taze, son of Earth.”

“Not so many questions that are important at this time. I have come bearing those you have so honorably invited: my closest family, and a single honor guard; Pensword and his family; and the others you requested. We have finished our business at the estate. In fact,” Grif reached into his bag, and retrieved a string of pearls. He then offered them to Melody. “As I understand it, these belonged to the Lady Bloodbeak, before her death. It would be my honor, if you would take them, my lady.”

Melody reached out a taloned hand, and took them as caressed them against her cheek. The orbs began to shine as the streaks of her tears washed over them. Then she put them on. “The day Mother comes back to me shall be the start of my grandest flight of duty and joy,” she whispered. “These were the last words I gave her, before her passing.”

A suspicion was confirmed as Grif saw her face. “It is sacrifice to do what we believe as right that defines us, my lady. And truly few know the meaning of sacrifice as you do. You are an example to us all.”

“Thank you,” Melody replied. “Your heart is strong through kindness, though kindness shines in the folds of the night now.” She tilted her head, and smiled mischievously. “Still, I hope you will forgive me, if I accept this as returning something of mine, rather than a gift, as we requested in our letters.”

“Perhaps it would be more prudent to have our quarters assigned now,” Grif suggested. “And the rest of our party can have a formal meeting with you when we are all rested,” Grif said, looking to Daedalus.

“Yes,” Daedalus agreed. “I have rooms made for you already. My captains will show you to them.”

“I have things I must do on my own before the wedding. I will see you all soon,” Melody promised as she left to take her leave through a side door. She paused, then turned back to look at Grif. “I am not afraid of any ghosts, be they real or of the living.”

---

Commander Moonkissed Pensword Hurricane of the line of Pen, Slayer of the Ursa Minor of the Thestral Dream Clan, Conqueror of the Forts Lunar Fang and Triumph, Archduke of the Lunar Court, High Duke of Filly De Ys, Protector of the Crystal Crown, Knight Champion of Prince Bellacosa of the Crystal Empire, Veteran of the Third Gryphon War and the fall of the Crystal Empire, Survivor of the failed Gryphon coup, stood waiting. His wives Lunar Fang and Fox Feather stood with him, with Moon River sitting in front of them. His three Pony sons stood at his side, while his Gryphon Children stood behind him. All were waiting for this private audience. The reason why his mind was rolling over the long list of titles was because this Gryphoness who was to marry Daedalus had used them all, requesting his entire family be present for this ceremony.

It took ten minutes of waiting, before the Gryphoness entered. She had the most unique color pallet Pensword or Matthew had ever laid eyes on. Her pink fur and luminous feathers made for quite the spectacle as the torchlight reflected off of them.

Melody smiled at them all kindly as she stepped into the room. The guards from Daedalus's house stood at attention near the back wall, but one thing Pensword caught right away was that there were no guards on her right side.

“Greetings, Great Knight,” she purred in very clear Equish. “And should I call thee father?” she asked teasingly.

“Father?” Lunar Fang balked, whipping her head around. “If you go back in–.”

“Now now, Mother,” Melody responded with a knowing smirk. “It is not from the past that I call you these things, but for the future.”

“Well that’s … new,” Fox Feather said as she finally found her voice. “Does that mean you’re from the future?” she asked as she smiled back, and raised a playful brow.

“I see one of my mothers gets the joke.” Melody laughed, before turning her attention on the boys. “Ah, the trio.” Her face suddenly hardened as her expression became stern. “The Trio of revenge, they who hid upon a mother’s cry, and watched the act of treachery upon her, who watched as machines within machines forced their father onto a path of joylessness. It is far off, but the day shall come that all three shall see their part of the plan fulfilled.” She slumped a little, then shook her head as her expression softened again. “I am … sorry. I do not control my gift. A phrase, a sound, a smell, anything could set it off, if the circumstances are right. I do have a warning, however, that lingers in my mind. You and your wives must not interfere with the children. Fate has woven their path, and they follow it with conviction. They must have their closure.” The corners of her mouth pulled up in a sly smile. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t get a little push here and there from the shadows.”

Pensword sat down hard. He knew Duke Chivalry's wife died suddenly from the newspaper reports he’d checked up on, not to mention Chivalry’s own account of the matter, but to hear that foul play was involved.... He seethed at the thought, followed by a cold realization that sent ice through his veins. Melody had said the boys witnessed the event. His anger was nothing compared to what those three must have felt every day. And yet, somehow, they still managed to live like normal foals. He felt an even greater love growing for them as he turned to face them with determination in his eyes. “I shall teach all three of you how to harness that rage in combat. It will prove a valuable weapon to pierce your foes, but without temperance, it will do just as much harm to your allies as it will your enemies.”

“That is good.” Melody nodded as she walked past Pensword and his family to the Gryphons at the back. “Ah, my little brothers and sisters, they who saw what the Avatar beheld so many years ago. You have became the closest of any Gryphon since Grif to stand at the Commander's side and live.” She smiled, looked each one in the eye, took in their scents as she paced slowly around them. Then, upon completing her circle, she sat down. “I have this for all of you. Your individual gifts will come later.” She never blinked as her blank eyes stared at each of them. “Your blood will never be pure again. One has already sacrificed that purity. Your fates were sealed the moment you took a blade in the name of Pen. Your lines shall bring about a brand new species, one that will horrify the old guard, and cheer the princesses at the love shown. None of you shall marry another Gryphon. Your hearts will all be snared by those who, in the days of Pensword, were called prey.”

She chuckled as she felt two tiny hooves playing with her feathers at her breast, and looked down lovingly at the cute little blue foal. “Ah, little one, you who take the moon beams and make them your river. You will be a warm heart in a cold world. You will be the first to give birth to a new breed between the Night Court and the crystal. You will bridge the time of lost worlds, and your legend will echo among the stars.”

Then she sighed. “There is more, but she is too young to hear.” She looked down to see the foal toying with one of her fringe feathers. In a matter of seconds, Melody had snipped it off, and preened it away, before clasping it in her beak, and passing it to the young foal. Moon River squealed in delight as the colors flashed in a rainbow as they caught the light. “A gift, little one. Hang it from your personal dream web. The dye will never fade. Trust me.” Then she stuck it into Moon River’s mane between the ears, so its luminous patterns shone on her left side.

“Now I have given each the attention they need. In return, I ask that you honor my only request. For there is only one gift that I truly need for this wedding.”

Pensword furrowed his brow. “May I ask what this request entails?”

“Of course. If you had said yes with no questions, I wouldn’t feel as safe as I do now.” She looked to her guards. “I am of no clan. I have no house of my own to speak of, after I forsook my ties to my father. That is why I only have one side guarded, to show that I have no one to present to my groom to add to the guard. It is not needed, of course. An Emperor can very well marry a clanless, if he so chooses; however, the last to try was called Feeble Beak the Betrayer. His entire clan to fourth cousins were purged from all records, and perished by the sword. Though none would dare raise their sword against a prophetess, any reforms, bills, or measures will be delayed, and all action will be drawn out as long as possible. It will make a certain rainbow-maned pony’s pet appear as fast as his master by comparison.”

She motioned with her tail, and a flagon was brought with drink that she took gratefully, before continuing her explanation. “However, the laws look favorably upon those that come from clans. The more powerful the clan, the better. The most interesting thing about the laws, however, is that they never include the word Gryphon once. The idea of a Gryphon doing something against tradition was unheard of, until Grif showed up. And so, a prophetess who has the protection of the Winds can follow his example. I wish to marry Daedalus, my husband, as Prophetess Pink Fur Melody, born under the rainbow rain of Clan Pen.”

Pensword slowly nodded his head. “Very well. I shall relent.”

“SISTER!” Moon River shrieked joyfully.

“If Moon River sees you as a sister, then I suppose I have no choice but to call you daughter,” Lunar Fang responded.

Fox Feather shrugged. “Why not? Life was getting too regular anyway. Got to shake it up a little.”

“I guess that is true.” Pensword chuckled, before growing pensive. “Is there anything I need to know?”

“Only that when the time comes, Daedalus will loan you a certain number of warriors to wear your clan symbol. They will then take that symbol, remove it from their uniforms, and throw it to the ground to show that their loyalties now lie with Daedalus. According to tradition, once the ceremony is complete, the torn symbols are given back to the original family, along with a copy of a symbol from clan the bride has married into to indicate the ties you’ve made. The copy will hang above the old clan symbol to indicate the change. Now then, I hate to be rude, but I believe the ceremony of adoption is a private affair, and time is of the essence. Pensword, Lunar Fang, Fox Feather, I’ve had a room prepared for the rites, if you would be so good as to follow me.”

The room was little more than an old storeroom with a table that had clearly been brought in for the purpose. The Ponies had to lay down on crates in order to be at the proper height. Melody had nothing but cushions to work with. Four handleless cups sat on the table in a straight line in front of Melody, as if presenting themselves to their superior, a plain brown teapot that steamed at its spout. The only change in the simple design lay at the pot’s center, where the Gryphic symbols for family, past, present, and future circled in a chain. The scent of cinnamon, honey, and unfamiliar spices filled the air. A small sheet of a paper had been written out in Equestrian for Pensword to read, before the ceremony. A brush, a blank piece of parchment, and a shallow silver dish also waited. As a final touch, Melody reached into the folds of her robe, and withdrew an ornate dagger, which she placed reverently on the table.

Pensword stared wide-eyed at the hilt, which was made from pure silver, and looked surprisingly like a certain legendary psychic Pokémon guardian of the sea. Melody smiled as she moved her taloned hands with poise and purpose to lift the pot, then poured the sweet smelling liquid into a cup. She then lifted the cup up, and waved it under her beak, before passing it to Pensword, who accepted it, and repeated the action. Then he lowered it to the table before him, and waited patiently. The ceremony continued in like manner for Lunar Fang and Fox Feather.

Finally, Melody poured for herself, waved her cup under her beak, then around the table to pass under each Pony’s nose. Then she lowered it before her. She bowed her beak, and spoke in Gryphic, and then in Equestrian. “By drinking of this blend, I hereby wish to join my wings with the wings of your clan, clan Leader, for I have lost the old, and wish to blend with a new family.” She raised her cup off the table with both hands, and looked expectantly at Pensword.

Penword looked at the card, and red off the lines. “As Clan Leader, and one who has established his clan with success, I do hereby welcome you to my clan, and invite you to drink of our clan’s blend, for it is not good for a grown Gryphoness to be alone. Drink. Drink, and know our family blend.” He took his own cup, sipped gently. Melody looked to Lunar Fang, who also sipped, and then to Fox Feather, who repeated the action. Melody smiled, and then drank deeply from her cup, followed by the three Ponies.

Once the cups were empty, Melody looked Pensword in the eye, and took a deep breath. “I, who have forsaken my ties of old, do hereby wish to call you Father and Mothers. I wish to take on your friends and your enemies, your debts and your honors. I wish to bring to my new family hope and longevity.” She waited with baited breath as Pensword glanced at the notecard in front of him.

Pensword spoke slowly. “To you who wish to be part of our family, she who has forsaken and cast off her old family will be called hereafter as one of the clan. Your debts of old are washed away with the tea we have drunk. Your honors as well. Upon the close of day, you shall be clothed in the clan’s honor and debts. No longer shall you be called by your old name. From this day Forth, you shall be Melody Pen.”

Pensword picked up the knife, and carefully drew the blade across the skin beneath his hoof, being careful to avoid hitting a vein. A small trickle of blood sprouted from the wound, and dripped into the bowl. Melody repeated the action, and the two bloods mixed. The wounds were then stanched, and bandaged to heal naturally. Healing by magic was not allowed. Next, the brush was taken, and dipped into the mixed blood. In five simple strokes, Melody formed a surprisingly complicated glyph above a portrait of Pensword’s crest. It matched the glyph on the pot perfectly. The ancient glyph for family stood boldly for all to see. A pulse of energy ran across the page, and the blood dried instantly, staining the paper like red ink.

Pensword’s eyes widened in surprise as a familiar taloned hand reached out from behind him, and took the dried paper. Kahn had somehow entered the room without a sound. He took the dried parchment, and rolled it up as one of the guards produced a tube. Kahn proceeded to slide the new scroll gently into it.

Pensword looked to Melody, and nodded. “Welcome to my clan, daughter, even if it is only for a few days. Know that should anything befall you, I would fall upon those that harm thee in the same manner and weight as I would upon those that would harm any of my children.”

Melody smiled warmly. “I am happy to hear that, Father. For in these few days, you will be more of a father to me then that tom ever was for me.” She looked around. “Do you think I could perhaps hunt stuffing with your daughter tonight?”

Pensword chuckled. “I don’t see why not. We do have a six room suite we can use for our fun.” His simle widened into a grin as his laughter spread to Lunar Fang, then Fox Feather, and finally to Kahn as the family rose together to leave, followed by Melody’s silent guard.

---

“Feel awkward yet?” Grif asked Hammer Strike as the two waited outside to be invited into Daedalus’s private rooms. On their walk over, Hammer Strike had received everything from fearful gazes to one Gryphon who had actually ran when he’d accidentally brushed against the Pony.

“Plenty,” Hammer Strike replied. “Then again, it’s been interesting, since we entered the nation.”

“Well I’m sure if Satan entered Buckingham Palace, he’d get a similar reaction,” Grif chuckled.

“Still amazed that’s the basic equivalent to how I’m viewed.”

“Could be worse,” Grif chuckled.

“How much worse?” Hammer Strike asked curiously.

“Well, they could admire you, and then be challenging you to combat every five-and-a-half minutes,” Grif offered.

“I might like the combat part more.”

“For days?” Grif asked.

“Sure,” Hammer Strike shrugged.

The two would have kept on talking, but the door opened, and they were bid to enter the large luxurious apartment. Daedalus stood ramrod straight, and stone faced, though a sheen of sweat shone on his face as they approached.

“My Emperor, may I present Lord Hammer Strike of New Unity, Lord Protector of the Royal Family, and Champion of Equestria,” Grif introduced.

“A pleasure to meet you face to face, Daedalus.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile.

Daedalus attempted a warm smile, which came out more crooked and awkward. “Pleasure to meet you,” he squeaked out.

Hammer Strike raised a brow questioningly, before his smile softened, and a faint chuckle escaped him. “An understandable reaction.”

“On behalf of the Gryphon people, I’d like to take this opportunity to put the past behind us, so that we may work towards a better future.” Once again, Daedalus’s words came out awkward as he attempted to sound formal.

“Sounds like a grand idea.”

Daedalus offered a shaking set of talons to Hammer Strike.

Hammer Strike extended his hoof, and made sure to be careful not to put force into the hoof shake.

However, the minute his hoof touched Daedalus, the young Gryphon let out an undignified shriek, and in an instant was cowering behind Grif.

“... Well that was unexpected,” Grif chuckled as he turned his head back to gaze on the young ruler. “He’s not going to hurt you, kid.”

“Not at all,” Hammer Strike agreed. “I came unarmed to show I have no hostilities against you or your subjects. As you said, it was in the past. Today is something new.” He shrugged.

“I’m s-sorry,” Daedalus stuttered. “It’s just hard when you’re speaking to someone you’ve been hearing ghost stories about since you were a cub.”

“Understandable.” Hammer Strike let out a soft chuckle. “But have no fear, young one. Most of the stories you heard were probably over exaggerated anyways.”

With some coaxing, Daedalus finally managed to gather his courage, and leave the refuge behind Grif’s body as talons met hoof, and the two shook, affirming the auspiciousness of the event.

“It really is a time for legendary meetings,” Grif chuckled. “Now the Emperor shakes hands with the Ghost.”

Hammer Strike gave a faint chuckle. “To be honest, Daedalus, I’m quite surprised. Most Gryphons I’ve talked to within the empire never tried for a conversation longer than two minutes, and yet you’ve beaten them by double and more.”

“Thank you, Lord Hammer Strike,” Daedalus said, “though I’m still not quite sure whether to take that as a compliment.”

---

Grif and his family were welcomed by several large armed guards as they approached the rooms of the Farflyer Clan. Two bengal tiger kingfisher Gryphons stood foremost in front of the large stone doorway. Above it, in it’s normal place, the clan’s banner waved proudly, only now it had been adorned with a golden laurel wreath, indicating the clan’s new royal status. Grif’s hand gradually shifted to his side, drawing ever closer to his knife belt as he noted the guards’ stern looks and crossed spears, only for the looks to suddenly change to bright smiles at the last second as the spears uncrossed, and began stamping out a rhythm. Grif smiled as Garrus opened the door, and walked outside the room, followed by a younger male with a surprising mix of blue and gray coloring. His body was the same leonine body as Garrus or Avalon, but accompanied by the head of a merlin.

“Garrus,” Grif offered, touching his beak with respect at the older Gryphon. “And I guess you must be the new king of the region, Your Majesty,” Grif offered with a chuckle and a dramatic sweep of the wing.

“I’d ask if this is the way you treat a brother, but I can tell by that cheeky smirk of yours that this is exactly how you would greet him.” The Gryphon laughed as he walked forward to take Grif in a quick embrace. “It’s good to see you again, Grif. Tell me, how are my little nieces doing? We’ve been most anxious to meet them, since we heard the news, especially the Gryphon determined to win the title of best uncle,” he added with a mischievous wink.

“I have someone else for you all to meet.” Grif smiled as he returned the embrace. “Avalon has been anxious to introduce you, haven’t you, Sweetheart?” Grif said without looking back.

Avalon beamed as she walked slowly past her husband, while holding a tiny white bundle. “Gareth, Father, I’d like to introduce you to Tazeer Bladefeather, my firstborn, and your new nephew and grandson.” She pulled back the cloth to reveal the cub’s black speckled white owl head as it turned cutely back and forth, causing his feathers to ruffle up like a cushion as he nuzzled into the warmth in his sleep.

Garrus smiled gently as he approached his daughter with pride shining in his eyes. He padded softly, then stroked the back of his talon down the cub’s fluff. “Beautiful,” he said with misty eyes as he kissed his daughter on the forehead. “Just like his mother.”

“Careful, Father. You don’t want the others to think I’m the favorite, do you?” Avalon teased.

“Avalon, we agreed by mutual consent years ago. There’s no matter of thinking you’re the favorite. You are,” Gareth said with a chuckle as he gazed on the cub. “How recent?”

“Just a little over a week. He has his father’s stomach,” she teased, winking back at Grif.

“Still, we figured this would be the only time to really get a visit in before things start to get crazy, and I don’t know when we’d be able to speak again. I suppose with the exception of His Highness here, I imagine I’ll be seeing a lot of him over the next few days.”

“Considering I’m the king now, and you’re one of the most important figures both religiously and politically right now, that’s probably a fairly accurate assumption,” Gareth agreed. “Though I think we both know I’ll just be coming to spoil the kids,” he added with a smirk.

Grif chuckled. “So, has there been any talk of who is replacing the other throne openings?”

Garrus shook his head. “Daedalus is playing it close to the vest. Considering his position, I don’t blame him. Surviving two attacks on your life is bound to have an impact on the psyche.”

“Yes. Well, I hope this wedding isn’t simply to gain the protection of a prophetess,” Grif noted. “I know Daedalus is good-natured, but with what he’s been through, it seems like an obvious temptation.”

“Do you think he would say no when she’s told him it’s to be?”

“As long as it’s not an issue of convenience,” Grif said as he wrapped a wing around Avalon, and a second around Shrial. “Marriage should be a matter of the heart first.”

“She is quite the stunner,” Garrus noted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Daedalus did find at least some attraction there.”

“Don’t let mother hear you say that,” Avalon teased.

Garrus chuckled good-naturedly. “Ah, how I’ve missed you, Avalon.”

“No backsies,” Grif chuckled.

“Speaking of backsies, we should probably make our way back into the dining hall. Mother will flay us alive, if we keep her away from her grandchildren for too long,” Gareth said.

“Don’t worry, brother dear. I’ll protect you,” Avalon purred, then chuckled wickedly.

“And I’ll back her up,” Shrial added.

“Winds save us all,” Garrus cried, then laughed as he raced ahead of his daughter and daughter-in-law.

Gareth smiled at the display as he walked slowly after with Grif at his side. “The role of grandfather is settling well with him. I wouldn’t be surprised, if he chose to retire soon, and hand the clan’s affairs over to my brother.”

“You don’t think it’s at least somewhat funny that he’s a grandfather with cubs that are still getting their pinfeathers?” Grif chuckled. “I suppose he’s earned it, though, living as long as he has. Come on. You can find me a drink as thanks for that crown.”

“And then I can beat you over the head with it later for all the headaches it’ll bring me,” Gareth added with a chuckle as he laid a brotherly wing over Grif’s back. The two headed inside, laughing.

---

“And so, in honor of this auspicious occasion,” the caller read off the long scroll in front of him as he had been since he had entered the dining room fifteen minutes prior. The first part of his speech had been almost all stating the obvious events of the times and the use of long fancy titles. “His Holiness, Emperor Daedalus, and Lady Melody do call for a proving tomorrow, for which any and all Gryphons, be they brave enough, are to be allowed to try and prove themselves, be it in combat, in the races, or by the bow. Warriors may present themselves to qualify at dawn. Clan leaders may send their champions at dawn as well. Prizes will be awarded as befitting the victory. So let it be written, so let it be done.” Said caller looked particularly thankful as he handed the scroll off to a guard, and then made a beeline for the drink table.

“Well, Daedalus certainly is pulling out all the stops for this.” Grif chuckled as he sat amongst his friends at one of the most loaded tables in the immense dining hall. There were more private dining rooms where the higher nobility and clan heads usually preferred to eat, but in the spirit of exploration, the group had decided to find one of the more public spaces. Grif was wondering if Pensword was regretting it as his friend stared across the hall at the tables and tables of Gryphons feasting merrily on the free food.

Pensword had taken to hoarding one full pot of tea to himself with a bowl of sugar as he did his best to keep his hooves from shaking. A pyramid of sugarcane piled at least four rows high in front of him as he decimated piece after piece. He was doing his hardest not to let his PTSD get the better of him at the table, and, in all fairness, was doing quite admirably. Unfortunately, with his heightened sense of hearing, every scrape of a knife or ring of a fork set his reflexes off, raising his heartrate as he struggled to keep himself from overreacting.

“He’s the emperor. I’m guessing it’s sort of expected,” Vital noted as he levitated a chunk of wild boar meat into his mouth, and began to chew. “Not to mention the fact he’s marrying a prophetess. I’m guessing that’s a pretty rare thing in your culture.”

“Well, clairvoyance kinda only pops up once every couple generations,” Grif noted. “And usually, the one possessing it dies in some unforeseen tragedy to everyone else but them.”

“And I’m guessing they chose to just accept the end they saw, rather than try to change the outcome and possibly cause something worse to come about?”

“Sometimes fighting to change one’s fate ends up bringing it upon your head in the first place,” Pensword spoke up, latching onto the conversation like a glittering lifeline. “The Greeks are a prime example.” He eyed the two empty chairs that had been reserved in case the bride and groom chose to roost there for their meal. “Though with what little I have seen, she might live a long, healthy life.”

“I’m pretty sure we can count on that,” Vital agreed. “Granted, I’m no prophet. Just call it a hunch.” He shrugged as he bit into a freshly baked roll slathered with butter. “My compliments to the chefs. They know how to bake good bread.

“Well, one can’t exist on venison alone.” Grif chuckled as he passed vital a goblet. “Try some blud,” he grinned.

“Is it alcohol?” Vital asked suspiciously.

“No.” Grif chuckled. “It’s ripened berry’s boiled down with honey to give it an unsettling red color, and a thickness just more than water. If it wasn’t for the scent, you could mistake it for what it sounds like.” When Vital looked in the goblet, he did see an unsettlingly red liquid within.

“Huh. Reminds me of prop blood.” He took a sip, and smiled. “Mmm … syrupy. If this were Asgard, I’d be throwing this down right now, Thor style.”

“Well, we may not be particularly brilliant chefs, but we do make a decent beverage.” Grif laughed. “Still, a proving. That should be fun.”

“Think they’ll let Hammer Strike enter?”

“Unfortunately, this is a Gryphons only type of deal. It’s probably one of the few things they’d stand up to him about.”

“Needs to be fair,” Hammer Strike commented with a faint grin.

“That, too,” Grif laughed. “Though it won’t be all that fair. A lot of rookies trying to make a name for themselves as they come to fight or shoot against Gryphons with fifty years experience or more.”

“In short, barring being geniuses, they’ll never stand a chance?” Vital asked.

“Not unless some of the older warriors have gotten slower in their old age. The bow in particular is often hilarious. So many younger ones think it’s about aim. Foolish.”

“If it isn't aim, then what is it about?”

“Well, normally, it would be about aim, but when you have an avian-feline mixed heritage, good eyesight isn’t exactly a rare trait. We use clay disks thrown at around the same time at different positions. Your score is based on how many you can break with a single shot, so it’s about timing more than aim.”

“Just like shotgun shooting back home.” Vital grinned. “Mmm. I miss that.”

“Anyway, it’s not so easy to time your arrow for the sweet spot, especially as the distance that some disks need to be thrown is different as you go further down. It becomes a matter of instinct, and instinct is honed best after years of trusting it. As such, the Veterans tend to do better in provings.”

Pensword took a more steady sip of his tea. “So, are you going to compete then, Grif?”

“Probably, but just the bow. I’d hate to have the kind of publicity that comes from the arena.”

“And if Daedalus asks you to do it as a special event?” Vital asked.

“I’ll politely refuse.”

“And you can get away with that?”

“Technically, I’m not only not a Gryphonian citizen, but I also am one of the major religious figures in the country. He can’t touch me.”

“And, of course, you don’t really care about politics and political standing, so there’s no grip on you there either.”

“Now you're getting it,” Grif chuckled. “Frankly, I probably scare the more powerful clan heads just on the implication alone, wielding so much power without the drawbacks usually attached to it.”

“Well, you certainly put the fear of Faust into Trixie, if memory serves,” Vital teased as he nudged the mare in question with an impish smirk.

Pensword paused and blinked. Did he just see a Gryphoness pout at the display Vital showed with Trixie. A moment later he let a small smirk form on his muzzle as he took another sip of his tea.

“Trixie wasn’t scared. She was merely … startled,” Trixie responded as a violent blush rose in her cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Trixie. Whatever you say.” Vital was promptly rewarded by having his drink dumped over his head. Surprisingly enough, he laughed at that, then shook his mane, spattering Trixie, and eliciting several giggles as her pout dropped helplessly to a playful smile.

Rarity leaned in to nuzzle Hammer Strike. “So, how long do you think those two will last before he pops the question?” she whispered.

“Not certain, but I don’t see it being too long.”

Pensword grinned. “Hopefully before next spring.”

“You realize it has to be May, or you still lose. Spring isn't entirely yours, right?” Grif looked to his old friend with a smirk.

“Yes,” Pensword whispered back. “But I don’t know what month she will start indicating she is available.”

“Start with the basics for now, Pensword,” Grif said. “Worry about those details later.”

“Okay, but … shouldn’t we at least get a dance going, like you did with Lunar Fang and me?” Pensword muttered back.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Grif denied.

“Still, we have planning to do later,” Pensword continued. “I suppose we can’t push too fast.”

“Use a mallet, not a hammer,” Grif agreed.

“Um … why are we talking construction tools?” Vital asked. A blush had risen on his cheeks as Trixie kissed him there.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older,” Grif responded.

“Of course. After all, I still need an adult,” Vital added with a mischievous wink.

“I am an adult,” Trixie said as she smiled at him, and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Then could you perhaps accompany this minor onto the dance floor later this evening, m’lady?”

Trixie sighed. “It seems like the responsible thing to do.” Then she giggled.

“Then it’s a date.” He leaned in, and nuzzled her gently, before planting a hesitant kiss on the side of her cheek.

Pensword was very much enjoying this exchange as he snuck a nuzzle with Lunar Fang and Fox Feather. He looked to Grif after. “So we have dinner, and you mentioned a dance floor. When does the dancing begin?”

“When someone starts a song.” Grif shrugged a second, before someone began banging on a nearby table in rhythm. “Which would be any minute now.”

Pensword jumped at the banging, but Matthew was excited to see the curious behavior. “Matthew should have been an anthropologist,” he muttered in Draconic as he shook his head.

---

The colosseum was a vast underground chamber, more than six hundred yards across, and two hundred yards wide. It was carved straight from the granite with massive stone benches forming the seating for the common Gryphons, and a large elaborate box set up on the north end very reminiscent of Caesar. The floor of the colosseum had been carefully packed with fresh earth. Through some mysterious means Grif couldn’t explain, grass covered it in a thick coat. Immense statues of Gryphons sat proudly on their pillars, facing the four cardinal directions. Their beaks pushed up into the air, as if they were holding up the roof.

“So, what is the first event?” Pensword asked as he looked around. “Tell me that they will put things together to create ship battles.”

“Sadly, no.” Grif chuckled. “Gryphons haven’t needed to do sea combat for more than twelve hundred years.”

Pensword, no, Matthew pouted with a humph. “That’s no fun.”

“What, you can’t enjoy the architecture of it all?”

Pensword looked at Grif. “I am. I am. So is Matthew. But to him, this is an underground version of an architectural wonder from the old world. And it seems they had naval combat … on land.” He paused, and looked to Grif with narrowed eyes. “Humans will do anything they put a mind to, won’t they?”

“Doesn’t seem like much point to that,” Grif shrugged, “especially considering the airships.”

“Never stop dreaming,” came the sudden response. Again, that was most likely Matthew. He’d been becoming more vocal of late. Pensword shook his head. “Still, what is the first event?”

“The racing,” Grif sighed. “It’s the least … exciting of the three.”

“Well, still going to be fun. Matthew liked watching the track matches for the Olympics, and I am sure it is flying involved here.”

“What gave you that idea?” Grif snickered.

“Wings,” Pensword responded flatly. Then his deadpan expression lightened into a smile. “Oh, there you are, Vital, Trixie. Did you get lost?”

“It took nearly an hour to find our way here. Somebody refused to rely on Trixie’s excellent navigating skill.”

“You mean the skill that made it so you didn’t want to ask directions?” Vital asked flatly.

“Wait, I thought it was the Stallion who doesn’t ask for directions?” Pensword asked in confusion with his two wives giggling.

“Trixie knew where she was going,” Trixie huffed.

“Yes, clearly,” Vital said as he rolled his eyes. “Which is how we wound up halfway to the second ring, before you let me ask where we should go.”

“It was a detour,” Trixie defended.

“A detour that led us to a group of young Gryphons who were making their way to the colosseum, and were kind enough to let us follow them, after we paid them to let us.”

“We did get here, didn’t we?”

Vital sighed, then shook his head. “... Trixie, what am I going to do with you?”

“Marry her?” Pensword teased under his breath.

“All in good time, darling. All in good time,” Rarity whispered as she leaned past Lunar Fang. “You can’t rush these things, you know.”

Pensword just smirked in response.

“So, is it just me, or are they moving thunderheads up there on purpose?” Vital asked as he pointed up into the sky, where darker clouds were shifted and set alongside their whiter, fluffier cousins. A few bolts of lightning would crackle along their edges occasionally as the Gryphons setting them in place handled them cautiously.

“They are.” Grif nodded. “They must be getting ready to make it interesting.”

“What gets me is that they have a thunderhead … indoors,” Pensword whispered in surprise, and a spark of respect.

“Well, a test of speed wouldn’t be complete without testing the competitors’ skills in flight,” Vital noted. “I guess dodging thunderbolts is gonna be part of it.”

“You know how Rainbow Dash is always setting up crazy stupid courses for herself?” Grif looked at them. “Gryphons can be twice as bad about it.”

“I wonder if Rainbow actually got the idea from Gilda in the first place,” Vital wondered.

“No, it’s pretty common for flyers. The extra adrenal gland makes us more competitive.”

“The boys are usually much worse than the girls, but there are always some exceptions,” Avalon said with a playful smile as she held her baby close, and preened his feathers. “Which means this little one will probably be quite the handful.”

“Just wait till after he’s old enough to start playing with the twins,” Shrial said with a grin.

“Funny. From my experience, Avalon, you are the only exception to the competitive streak I’ve seen. Shrial still holds the fact she got more heads than me while taking Fort Long,” Grif chuckled.

“It’s called flirting, dear,” Shrial pointed out. “Or have you forgotten that part of courting?” she jabbed as she wiggled her brow playfully.

“Flirting involves a three minute long victory dance?” Grif returned with a grin.

“Considering how I was dealing with an independence rush, I think you can give me a pass on that one,” she pointed out coolly, albeit with a bit of a blush beneath her feathers.

“Just saying there is nothing in the history of our species that says males are specifically more catered to be competitive. Heck, more of our athletes are female.”

“Let’s save the discussion for the bedroom, shall we, dear? I’d rather not get into a debate on feminism versus competitiveness and potential biological contributors just now.”

“Of course, dear. Anyway, I’ll be happy to watch the race. I heard Genevieve arrived late last night, and I’m going to guess that I know why I haven’t seen her yet.”

“Prep for the race?” Vital queried.

“Likely. She takes racing very seriously.” Grif chuckled. “Only reason the wedding’s taking so long.”

“Makes a girl wonder whether she might come in last when it comes to marrying you,” Avalon teased.

“I hope that's not jealousy talking,” Grif noted. “You know I love you all, right?”

“Just joking, Grif. You know we already agreed to letting you marry the number you need, especially after your meeting with a certain bird.”

“Yes, but I worry you two might think I’d start picking favorites.”

“Have you so far?” Shrial countered.

“Of course not.” Grif chuckled. “Anyway, did you girls bet on anyone in particular to win?”

Both shook their heads. “A little bit of a rush with settling in, Dear,” Avalon pointed out.

“Well then, how about we sit back and enjoy the race?” he said as he took a seat near the top of the colosseum.

“I suppose we should,” Avalon sighed.

“Though with Genevieve here, I feel sorry for the rest of the competitors,” Shrial noted.

Grif grinned as he looked down below to the starting line, eyes locking onto a familiar blue-and-gray figure. ‘Give em hell,’ he thought.

And with that thought given, the signal sounded, and the race began.

---

True to Shrial’s prediction, Genevieve had won the race in her cousin's name. It had been a very impressive feat to see, involving not only a foot race, but also a corkscrewed obstacle course higher and higher into the air. Each racer had to collect pieces of an emblem as they went, in order to advance to the next height, while dodging inclement weather of different varieties. All in all, the race had taken less than ten minutes, but the preparation beforehand had built the hype to such a state that it was well past half an hour before the crowds had calmed down.

It took another half hour for the arena to be reconfigured to allow for the moving targets to be placed. So it was an hour later that Grif found himself waiting at ground level for his chance to shoot. He grinned to himself as he tested his bow, pretending to ignore the gazes falling on the weapon. For reasons unknown to Grif, the ruby was shining softly in the torchlight. He waited ten minutes, twenty minutes, an hour. He lost track of time as he worked on his father’s legacy. It wasn’t until someone tapped him on the shoulder that he’d realised his turn had come.

“And now, under the eyes of the four Winds and his ancestors, shooting for the name of his own clan, Grif Bladefeather, son of Graf, and leader of clan Bladefeather, the Avatar of Winds!” the announcer roared as Grif took to the shooting area. The targets had already been reset, and swayed back and forth in front of him in peculiar rhythms that weren’t completely in synch, but every so often, the targets would align just for a moment, before parting again.

Grif took a deep breath as he raised the bow, already having an arrow notched as he pulled the string back. He took his time, eyeing the targets carefully. Naturally, the inventors of this course had been prepared for a Gryphon’s ability to dilate their perception of time, so that would be no help at this time. Skill and luck. That was all it would take. Grif calmed himself as he tried to predict the targets’ path.

“See where they’re going,” the old gravelly voice played through his head. “Take your time. Let the shot come to you.” Grif could almost feel the talons on his shoulder as a familiar red reticle suddenly appeared in his vision. Grif blinked in surprise, and checked the feathers on his arrow to confirm he wasn’t using one of Graf’s. He wasn’t. So what was going on? Inside the red, a smaller field of blue spun speedily, stopping once or twice when some of the outlying targets seemed to match. What the heck was going on? The black bow had been made with many enchantments. Grif knew this. The bow’s surface was lined with runes so small they were nearly indiscernible, but all of them drew power from the ruby, and the ruby had never been able to pull this much power before. A blinding gold light from Grif’s left side caused him to squint for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, the red circle and the blue circle had stopped, and a gold dot snapped into place in the very center. Grif released the arrow without so much as a thought.

There was silence in the arena, and Grif swore under his breath, cursing his impatience. He braced himself, and looked up to see just how badly he’d scored, only to find the arrow dug into the far wall, with shards of broken clay littering the ground between him and said wall. The sound of clapping echoed into the arena from the royal seats. Then someone else clapped. Soon the whole arena rang with applause as Grif looked around in disbelief.

“We’ll I’ll be damned.” The announcer chuckled under his breath. “I’m going to have to look up how to score that one. Don’t think I’ve heard of someone penetrating all the targets before.”

Grif was too stunned to speak as he was led out of the arena. His head thrummed with questions. How he’d made that shot was the foremost. He’d expected to break a few targets, but the arrow usually lost power before it reached the end. And what in the Winds’ names had been that light? Unnoticed by Taze, the topaz twinkled in the low light, and a soft blue light trailed on the ground below him as he walked past.

Pensword and the other ponies stood in shock at the display. The commander had to blink twice, just to be sure. For a moment, he was sure he saw Grif’s father standing behind the competitor. He shivered, and bristled his feathers as he listened to murmurs he was certain nobody else would hear. It would seem Grif’s performance had surprised more than just the living. He tried to keep a calm face as he began to hum a childhood nursery song his mother would sing to him to try to drown them out.

“You doing okay, Pensword?” Vital Spark asked.

“Ghosts,” was all he said as he returned to his humming.

“That many?”

“Yes. This is an old, old place,” Pensword hissed. “Now please let me be, before I start clamoring and get turned into a glorified spiritual messenger service. I am here to support the wedding, not play the medium.”

“You really should talk with Luna about a way to control that. She probably has a spell or scroll designed to help,” Vital noted, before turning back to the uproar from the arena. “So who here went and bet everything they had on Grif?”

Pensword raised a wing. “Alicorns are different. Besides, it is part of my burden to learn to tune it in and out. Besides, I enjoy the older places, despite the ghosts. I suppose that historian in me just won’t quit.” He smiled faintly, even as he clenched his eyes shut, and shook his head.

“Okay. So, uh … the bet?” Vital pressed again.

“Vital Spark, it’s rather impolite to ask such a thing of a lady,” Rarity pointed out. Perhaps it might be best to move to another subject.”

“That smile of yours indicates you bet a lot on him, and just won big time.”

“That, Vital Spark, is none of your business.”

“Which is Rarity speak for yes, you did.”

“Well, I never!”

Trixie chuckled as she elbowed Vital gently on the side. “Good one,” she complimented him.

“One does try one’s best,” he flirted back with an impish grin.

“A pity family members aren’t allowed to join in the bets,” Avalon sighed ruefully. “We could’ve made a killing.”

Kalima chuckled. “Something’s telling me you still will, girls,” she said as she turned to face Gilda. “And what do you think of Grif’s performance?”

Gilda blushed. “Okay, I guess I can say that was pretty cool.” She folded her arms as she tried to avoid eye contact with the other females.

Kalima just smiled knowingly.

“I’m looking forward to seeing how the fighting styles have changed here,” Shrial noted. “It’s been over a thousand years since I last came to the empire.”

“Just watch out for wandering eyes, Shrial,” Kalima teased.

Shrial couldn’t help but laugh. “Careful, Kalima. Otherwise, I might just sic the twins on you.” The two girls perked up, having heard the adults talking about them. They looked curiously at Kalima, who simply smiled in return.

“Ah, but I know something that you don’t know, young Shrial.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

Kalima chuckled. “Younglings adore their grandparents. And like any grandparent, I would spoil them rotten, before sending them right back to you.”

Shrial clapped her hands slowly. “Well played, Old One. Well played.”

Kalima bowed her head slightly with a mischievous smile. “One does one’s best.”

---

Pensword looked at Grif with a tired expression. Stack upon stack of blank paper and inkwells lay in wait for his hoof to write. “Thank you, Vital,” he groused. Grif caught sight on one letter addressed to Emperor Daedalus from his grandfather. A quick scan revealed the pride the spirit held for his descendant. “So, Grif, why did I see your dad out there?”

“He was out there?”

“Talon on your shoulder. Looked like he was whispering advice,” Pensword confirmed. “And thanks to Vital, I got twenty ei–.” He paused, and grabbed a piece of paper. Two, actually. After jotting down a series of quick notes, he sighed. “Make that thirty letters to deliver to the Empire ranging from asking to stop a wedding, so that Gryphon can marry someone else, and then there are revenge requests, requests to end revenges caused in error, and just ….” He groaned, then waved a wing over towards the hard stone walls of the room. “Hi, Mom. I’m okay.”

“Any of them offering anything of value for revenge? Locations of gold caches, etc., etc.?” Grif asked.

“To whom? I have ten revenge plots, three of them are riddles, two are just saying that they know where the staches are to use, and two are saying that they won’t tell where their inheritance is, until after they kill the killer.”

“Write them down,” Grif chuckled. “If they check out, maybe I can make some money while we’re here.”

Pensword sighed. “Just don’t take the inheritance ones. Their families might need them.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to pay for the info,” Grif countered. Then he frowned. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Three hours, Grif. Three hours of having to be a messenger for the dead. It started with three cubs wanting to say they’re okay to their families. Then it just spiraled out of control.” He looked at the table, and pulled another paper, paused, then banged his head repeatedly on the surface as he wrote without looking. “Thanks so much, Grif. Now they want to hire the Avatar or me for revenge. Now I’ll never get peace.”

“Tell whoever it is that you want twenty beaks to deliver their, message,” Grif told him, then held a silencing talon as Pensword prepared to object. “Just trust me.”

“All right,” Pensword growled. He closed his eyes, then opened them a few seconds later. “And three just told me where I could get the beaks,” he deadpanned as he began to write again. “But at least they’ve calmed down somewhat. The room isn’t so crowded.

“I thought that might help.” Grif smiled as he turned to leave, but a pleading look from Pensword stayed his paws as the constant scratch of the quill’s nib against the paper filled the room.

Suddenly, Pensword shook his head. “Ten Beaks only,” he muttered. “Family discount.”

Grif’s head whipped up from the daggers he’d been polishing, and his gaze focused on the shifting scrawl. The paper and pen moved much slower this time. Or perhaps it was merely Grif’s impatience. “Ten beaks, Grif. You’ve got a letter.”

Grif almost slammed the bills on the table, taking the page in his talons with a near reverence. He hesitated a few moments, before stuffing it in his armor. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d rather keep this for when I’m alone.”

“Of course.” Pensword nodded his understanding. “Just … Sorry I had to charge you. Got to keep consistent, if that plan of yours is going to work.” He furrowed his brow, and sighed as he continued recording. “Grif, could you have the attendant who delivers your tea tonight give you twenty beaks for this letter from her grandfather?” he asked as he rolled the paper, sealed it, and handed it to the Gryphon. “Also, for all the rest of you spirits listening, I am closed. I need sleep and time with my family. Work me too hard, and you will all put me in an early grave, and then you’ll lose your chance to get these letters out. In other words, buzz off!” he shouted. His torso heaved a few times as he forced his body to calm down. Then he sighed. “Glad they got the message.” He rose from the table, and stretched, cracking a few bones in his neck and wing joints. “Good night, Grif,” he said tiredly as he made his way towards the door.

Grif chuckled. “Now you're thinking like a Gryphon, Pensword.”

Pensword shuddered from nose to tail as he stuck a hoof on the door frame to maintain his balance. “Faust have mercy, if I ever grow a beak,” he whispered in horror.

Grif just smiled.

Author's Note:

Sorry the chapter went up late.

I have work in the morning. And we are starting the season rush in Retail, so these will most likely be going up in the evenings on Mondays, but with Christmas coming, our editors might have a little slow down. Do not worry, we have chapters for a while and we have plans for a long while yet to come.

I am sorry for the lateness of this post, so be on the look out for Monday Evenings from now on.

Comments

[Dravkwn]

No worries about the late chapter. I found it extremely humorous that a certain individual is depicted in a manner that makes me boggle at the implications.

[Commander_Pensword]

8478306
Oh?

What individual is that? and what is boggling your mind at the implications?

[Dravkwn]

8478628
Hammer and how powerful they are depicted.

I guess since you got my attention again I'll mention this. Why flutters section so small?

[DauntlessProductionz]

8478628
Yeah why flutters so short

[Booster Spice]

Of course the blacksmith would be aiding you, Griff?

A couple of things puzzle me about teh Griffons defenses over the millenia. Theres no, hmm, tastes like chicken, mention of Dragons, and given Celestia and Luna, never mind Starlight, how did they deal with the equivalent of planetary erasing civilisation of Alicorns?

As for being scared of Hammerstrike, well, he has only just started his personal research into Mana bombs, by the time he deals with the Griffons, Im pretty sure it would be aimple enough for him to be throwing Wizard Wheel class Nega Mana bombs. that is, one of his energy transform creations, but tuned to absorb mana from the surrounding area, essentially destroying magic, before the lack of external magic causes it to destabilise and relase all that converted energy in return in an event very easily reaching Tsar levels.

MeMe should be finding out a lot o things about gengineering the more she goes through the books and research. Such as iridescence and magical runes are very similar, Woodpecker skulls, which should be in the hive mind from infiltrating Griffons are one of the most efficint shock deflectors. Rutile silk gives titanium armor, magnetite, heamatite magnetic field sensing gives energy transducing crystals. Grasshoppers give mechanical high frequency generators which give rise to shatter defense and point chainsaw offence. Further research could posibly give rise to Drone Modules. Drones that are not just specific in their ability, but are designed to be part of a squad, so that the squad acts like one. Preferably more like GForce and Phoenix, than Power Rangers.

If they are visiting the Great Western fortress and amazed at its immense size, just how large is the Great Eastern?

Still pondering th use of External hinges, instead of any of various forms of Internal hindges, protected behind armor plate, the doors themselves, or even Music Box Iris slabs? Lots o meet and greet, exploring, getting lost, confusion, discrimination, price gouging and tourists to get through?

Well, the colours of the Prophetess are confusing me as Im sure Ive seen them somewhere before, and the only Melody I can remember is the Maiden Of The Sea who plays the flute to calm Lugia. Which still begs teh question, if legendaries cant have Eggs, how Silver, and Lattys. and Manaphy. And Ditto. Given the simplest, strangest explanation Ive seen for the whole of Pokeworld, is that Dittos are human Placenta. Given Grimer, Trubbish, and all those other such like?

Aww.. Melody the Ho-oH.. Well, we now know where Silver came from? Although, given the dagger, just where is Lugia resting, or ar they lost in time, waiting to be unlocked, rediscoverd, or they just havent been brought forward by the crews next temporal adventure yet?

Nice to see Pensword aint the only one apart from Pinkie who can get help from freinds on the other side, though I suspect by teh next day, even with Griifs payment plan, Penswords mother will have rallied the family round to streamline things and be off to the side having a right old argument with Graf about priorities and pricing and visiting rights for offpring etc?

Hmm, thats an intresting invention dug up from teh archives, crossed with that of fairly recent movie. Battleship. the alien ship fired off a set of Death Yoyo Hamster Wheels. they remind me of Harlen Ellison, Death Wheels? Or the Tank version of The Grand Panjandrum?

Sonic Spindash Attack anyone?

[Fetch]

And we are still awaiting their adventures in Zebrica, and of Hammer Strike raising Celestia and Luna. Those are the only curls in their timelines we know of left to be resolved.

[graphicalerror]

Dear you glorious people who spend your time making this story, this is my absolute favorite story on this site. The sheer scope of the world you are expanding on past present and future speckled with both hidden and blatant foreshadowing on events to come blows my god damn mind when I realise that they are there. I seriously love this story and one day I hope to print it out into hard cover books just so i can line a book shelf with this massive story. Cause you know, why not? It might be an impressive collection with how many chapters you guys have pushed out.

[Whiskas]

What happened to the Storyteller? Or to that doctor that was possesed by Sombra?

[Vital Spark]

8489574
To answer your question there, we haven't forgotten about the doctor with Sombra. It's just not time for them to play a role just yet. Sombra had to flee to a place where he could consolidate power and plan. He took that doctor with him. We'll bring them back when the time is right. As for Storyteller, I'll have a talk with the guys about him, and we'll see when might be a good time to bring him back. You're quite right. He's been a tad too silent of late.

[Charedfirescale]

So how canon is the movie in comparison to this story's universe? I mean there is a hippogriph kingdom even if they used a magical artifact to turn themselves into seaponies to escape the Storm King.

[Grif_Bladefeather]

8504542
we'll have to make some significant modification but we intend to try and make the movie work if only to show the storm king scream like a little girl when he encounters the severely pissed off team. (current plan is they where out of equestria when the invasion started.) but thats all i'm going to say

[Daedrik]

He is gunna turn into a griffon isn’t he

[Teraunce]

Pensword shuddered from nose to tail as he stuck a hoof on the door frame to maintain his balance. “Faust have mercy, if I ever grow a beak,” he whispered in horror.

Lol