• Published 15th Apr 2014
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An Extended Holiday - Commander_Pensword



Adventure, Mayhem, Magic of unknown origins, and talking colorful Ponies. All being unrelated events have brought three friends together into the wildest holiday that anyone could imagine.

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157 - Of Tidings and Forebodings

Extended Holiday
Chapter 157: Of Tidings and Forebodings
Act 29


“You moved me?” Grif growled as he glared at Hammer Strike. “You waited until we were gone, and then you have these ‘new orders’ delivered to my house, and you moved me?”

“I simply had you relocated for your job,” Hammer Strike replied calmly. “Though anything of importance remains in place, due to them being unable to be found. Of course, it’s still your place in the end.”

Grif sighed exasperatedly as his brain saved his mouth the energy by going over how any ensuing argument would go from here, with Hammer Strike winning. Always with Hammer Strike winning. “There’s no way out of this, is there?”

“Why, with the way your family is expanding, things looked to be getting cramped in the near future. So, I have doubts you’ll be able to go back when you’re soon to need the expansion.”

“I was trying to set the example, keep away from putting myself on a pedestal by having some big house.”

“Last I checked, you’re under orders to watch over the cache and remain on notice, thus placing you in a nearby station.” Hammer Strike hummed mischievously. “It’s almost as though you didn’t have a choice.” He slowly smiled as he turned his focus back to Grif.

“You’re too damned clever. You know that, right?” Grif sighed. “What kind of cache are we talking here? Weapons? Food? Strategic resources?”

“All of the above,” Hammer Strike replied as he pulled out a scroll from his coat, holding it out for Grif. “In case of emergency, we were in need of a bunker for civilians and supplies for civilians. I authorized it, and figured my right hand would be perfect for watching over it.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” Grif admitted as he took the parchment. “I take it you’ll have a list of people I should expect to organize civilians, in case they need to be brought down here?”

“All the information you need is within that scroll. Now, last I checked, you haven’t properly established yourself in your new station.”

“I can look into that shortly. Before things get too busy, there are a few things brought to my attention you should see, I think.” Grif retrieved some photos from his bag. “Recently had a cleaning crew in the Gantrithor doing your usual sanitary work. They found these on the walls in one of the lower decks.”

Hammer Strike frowned as he scanned over the photos. “Are these … murals in the bowels of the Gantrithor?”

“Yes. From what my people can tell, some of them are less than a couple of weeks old. Others go back a few months. Now, it could be someone sneaking into that ship; however, there are several storerooms in the lower decks that I haven’t had time to get to since I got on the ship. A lot of unspoilable food is kept down there.”

“They’re empty, aren’t they?”

“The ship was supposed to have been prepared for an emergency takeoff at all times and carry/feed a full battalion. There is no reason to think they would be empty.”

“They’re empty, aren’t they?” Hammer Strike pressed.

Grif sighed. “Every last crumb.”

Hammer Strike frowned. “I’ll have to come up with some additional scans for Circlet to work with, connect up a few more sensors and the likes later.”

“Perhaps it may be a case for your new hires?” Grif suggested. “Collector was a rather effective thief himself at one point. He may have some idea how to catch this stowaway.”

“Perhaps.” He hummed. “Yeah, with his ability to remain hidden, he should be able to search the lower levels without giving away his position.”

“Anyway, I have things I need to look into. I thought this required your attention, though.”

“I’ll bring things up to Collector and Oracle, perhaps start equipping them more. Until next time, Grif.”

Grif accepted his dismissal and departed the room to claim his “new assignment.”


The passage was cold and moist as the drafts passed through the structure. Pensword’s legs were all bound by weighted sleeves as he clopped to the designated office. The door opened to reveal a familiar white muzzle and the sheen of a massive pearl. It waved in front of him and glowed briefly, then faded.

“Okay, you’re clean. Get in here, Pensword. We have a lot to do tonight.” Vital Spark turned and flicked his horn to light up the space with cheerful flames. He strode to a stone plinth, where a familiar book waited. He tapped a crystal that had been embedded into the column and the stone turned green.

The Pegasus obeyed and closed the door behind him.

“All right, Pensword. It’s time for us to see how well your homework’s paid off. Did you find a suitable focus to use for thaumic vision?”

Pensword pulled out a thin brass metal frame rimming two lenses. A pair of diamonds had been embedded, one on either side of the frames to provide symmetry. “Here you are.”

Vital levitated the glasses and viewed them scrutinously. “Were the diamonds really necessary?” He leaned in to examine his reflection in the lenses. “And are these crystal? Remember, they’ll need to be able to channel thaumic power.”

“That is what the diamonds are for.” He pointed a feather to one of the stones and tapped it. The lenses darkened. He tapped it again and the lens returned to its original hue. “They’re enchanted glass Twilight made for an experiment. She didn’t have a use for it after, so she let me use them.” He smiled as he darkened the lenses again, then tapped the other gem. A light green glow surrounded the lenses, and a hasty glance through the shaded glass revealed a fully lit up clearing. “Apparently, it’s an old charm they used for the miners, back when wood was scarce after the Windigo invasion. Twilight wanted to recreate it. They should be able to hold up to thaumic energy.”

Vital nodded. “They’ll do. I’m just glad you didn’t go with a more conspicuous metal. The point of these is to avoid attracting attention to what we’re doing, after all.” He handed the lenses back to the Pegasus. “All right, my elderly friend. Dazzle me!”

Pensword put the glasses on and took a deep breath. He reached out, focused as he always did before, then tapped the frames with his hoof. He opened his eyes, then frowned. No glow greeted him. No energies, no colors, just the half dark he had known all his life on Equis and the familiar white face of his friend.

“Problem?” Vital asked.

“Let me try again.” He repeated the action three times, growing more frustrated with each attempt. Finally, he growled and stomped his hoof in aggravation. “What is wrong with me? I know where the energy is. I’ve channeled it before. But now….”

Vital Spark frowned. “Pass them here, Pensword. There’s something I need to check.”

Pensword did so without question. His brow furrowed in confusion, even as anxiety tied his guts in knots.

The Unicorn observed the frames closely, then tapped the edges with a hoof. A light glow passed over the lenses briefly, and Vital Spark laid them on his nose to peer through at the Pegasus. He narrowed his gaze, leaned in for a closer inspection, then paced around his friend slowly and deliberately. The soft tread of his hooves sounded like hammer blows in Pensword’s ears that complemented the rapid beat of his heart.

Something was wrong. The Pony was too silent, his examination too focused. Vital Spark rarely acted so seriously in a casual setting, not even as his teacher.

“What is it? What did you find?”

“Patience, Pensword. Do me a favor. Flap your wings and hover.”

Pensword did as he was told. His wings strained as he propped himself over the floor. His back began to ache after a few minutes while Vital Spark continued his examination. The knots in his stomach and chest strained to the point of snapping when he saw the Unicorn frown.

Still, he had to know. “What is it, Vital? Tell me the truth. Did Earth damage my field?”

“You can drop, Pensword.”

Pensword did so as Vital removed the glasses and passed them to his friend.

“Hold on, Pensword.” Vital Spark quickly tapped the crystal in the plinth to return it to its neutral state. Then he waved his horn and the book disappeared while a series of wards and locks activated over the door. He positioned himself in the middle of the room and Watcher’s pearl began to glow as he drew on the stored energy within it. “We’re going on a little trip.”

“Where?”

“To get a second opinion.”

A flash of blue light went unnoticed in the dead of night.


The entry hall was quiet, and Grif smiled as he slept surrounded by the Gryphonesses he loved high up in the bedroom. The nest they constructed was a hasty one, but it served their purposes well. The floor was made from smooth seamless stained wood. The walls rose and met easily with a curve. A lone fireplace had been built into the corner of the room awaiting the fall and winter to return.

All was well, until his eyes snapped open and his body tensed. Something was different. The wind carried the familiar tingle of magic. He slowly extracted himself from the sleeping forms of his wives. Vigilance and [Vengeance were already waiting by the door. He drew both silently from their sheaths and slipped out the room.

He was down to the main hall in seconds. The shadows in the roof hid his black feathers well. The sheer height and width of the hall provided plenty of opportunity for stealth. The lack of furniture or carpet left the intruders wide open as they clopped over the floor.

“You did call ahead, right?” the first shadow asked in a hoarse whisper. “Because this is not proper, doing this without advance notice.”

“Pensword, this is more important. I need Grif to verify, and time is of the essence.”

“He’s right. You should have sent a message first.” Grif spoke from the shadows as he walked across to them. “This is still a military facility, and coming here like this could have gotten you both in a lot of trouble.”

“I’m sorry, Grif, but I needed a second opinion, and I didn’t want to get Hammer Strike involved unless I was right. Do you have your shades on you?”

“I can get them,” Grif said tiredly. “What's the issue?”

“I need you to look at Pensword’s field, and I need to make sure the issue I found isn’t with the lenses he had made for our lesson tonight.”

“Well, if that’s the case, better to cut out the middleman,” Grif said. “Get behind me, Vital.”

Vital was quick to comply.

“I’ve gotten to the point where I can use thaumic vision safely,” Grif explained as he closed his eyes and concentrated. There was the momentary burning beneath his eyelids before he opened them. He looked at Pensword and his eyes widened. He turned his head carefully to Vital, and then back to Pensword. “Well, now. That is definitely a problem.” He sighed.

“Then my diagnosis is correct?” Vital asked as the light faded from Grif’s eyes.

Grif nodded. “The thaumic field is gone. The only energy is coming from his wings and hooves, where his alichorn is.”

“Will his body be okay?”

“His injuries from before have healed, from what I can tell. If he’s careful not to accrue more, he should be fine. That being said, he won’t survive any more like them. Without the thaumic field amplifying his internal magical field, he’s going to experience less potent magic-based abilities, too. But physically, he should be okay.”

“Then why does Pensword look like he’s about to hyperventilate?”

“Because now his chances of being able to fight a nightmare have dwindled significantly.” Grif sighed and he recited the prophecy as he knew it, both his part and Pensword’s.

Vital sighed. “Oh, Pensword....”

“I really don’t care for the pity. I just need to know how to fix this and get my tools back. This is not good. I went to earth and I lost the field? Can’t it come back? I was working so hard to make it stronger. It was stronger.” His voice cracked. “Why?”

Grif sighed and shook his head. “No, Pensword, it wasn’t stronger. You let it wither to the point where the energy draw from Earth was just too much. As for fixing it, I’m not sure we can. I know I can’t build you a new field. I don’t have the skill. Hammer Strike might know how, but I don’t know if he would do it, even if he could.”

“Then what do you suggest? I was getting very good at controlling thaumic energy. It’s why I got the glasses in the first place. Why? Why did this have to happen now, when I was so close?” His jaw tightened as he grit his teeth. “Am I going to lose my family again?” He growled. “I am working hard, and yet I find myself reaping disaster from Work failures to Mom never being happy with my work from Earth to the surgeries. I can’t even transform properly.” He turned his gaze aside as the tears began to fall. “Why am I always the shipwreck?” he whispered. “I lost my entire family in the Third Gryphon War. Am I really going to lose my daughter? Will I have to live in solitude to keep her safe? Am I supposed to be a part of some Greek tragedy?” His eyes rolled. “I can’t afford to lose her, Grif. I can’t.

Grif sighed as he took out a piece of paper and scribbled something down on it before sending it with a dragon lighter. “Vital, can you get the kettle? Kitchen’s two doors down. Lets get him some tea and calm him down while we wait.”

“Got any sugar cane sticks?” Vital asked. “I’ve noticed how much those usually help.”

“I think there’s some in the cupboard.” Grif shrugged.

It didn’t take Vital long to get the necessary items and bring them back. A few minutes later, Hammer Strike arrived to the sight of Pensword practically drowning himself in tea. Several fibrous cane stalks littered a platter. The Pony lord looked to everyone for a brief moment, then sighed. “What have I missed?”

“It seems the trip to Earth was too much of a strain on Penswords thaumic field. It’s dead,” Grif explained.

Hammer Strike’s eyes flashed blue for a brief second before he hummed. “I … didn’t anticipate this. At least, not at this point.”

“What do you mean? I was doing my homework day and night, with check ups with Vital on a bi-weekly basis.

“You’ve had lengthy breaks in between those as well, due to events that were mostly out of your control.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Your field has been fluctuating between weak and somewhat stable for nearly a year. I didn’t anticipate it going as such, but I sadly knew this could be an inevitability.”

“What are our options?” Grif asked.

“None, really.” He rubbed the back of his head as he thought. “His magical field was primarily maintained by the thaumic field. If I tried to re-apply a field this early, and late, it would crush his magical field and potentially kill him.”

Grif sighed. “So, it’s just gone, then?”

“Then what do we do?” Vital asked. “We can’t let that thing get at Moon River.”

“What?” Hammer Strike questioned with a raised brow. “What are you going on about? You’re all acting like something’s going to happen, just because his field is dead. He’s still alive.”

Grif sighed and went over the prophecy a second time.

“That’s … problematic.” He frowned.

“Extremely.” Grif nodded his agreement.

“We’ll have to figure something out, then, and plan accordingly.”

“You have ideas?” Grif asked.

“Because I am not about to lose my daughter,” Pensword said.

Hammer Strike hummed for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “We could attempt to redirect things.” He frowned. “I’d need time to think on it before we try anything, though.”

“Just keep me in the loop, okay?” Pensword begged as he attacked another sugar cane stalk.

“Of course.”


“You know, Hammer Strike, one of the things I will always love about you is just how much of a gentlepony you are. You always insist on walking me back to Ponyville whenever your schedule allows.” Rarity smiled and kissed her husband as they walked through the cobbled streets of the outer portions in the rising city. “Work really has picked up since Spring came, hasn’t it?”

“It certainly has. Last I checked, there were already a number of buildings and shops set up.” He smiled in response. “It won’t be much longer till housing is available for those outside of the ranks.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m certain Link and Zelda will be happy to have a new home to stay in. It’s all Epona can do to keep them from bouncing all over the place in the interim. I think Link wants to join your guard one day.” She giggled. “Wouldn’t he just look adorable in that Nightmare Night costume posing with a sword by the Rohirrim?”

Hammer Strike gave a faint chuckle. “Things are going to get interesting around here, once more merchants start moving in….”

“By the way, just how many Dwarves do you have working on these projects? I saw the Demos working on foundations, but I think some of their cousins may have been helping. I … honestly don’t know how they manage to do so many things at once.”

“They keep changing out the numbers, to be honest.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Doesn’t help that they keep taking projects to work on here to assist us, so they keep adding more to the city and swap out those who finish their parts. The walls are nearly complete, and I’m pretty sure they’ll take a lot of damage before even showing signs of it.”

“Considering what I saw of your hammer, I’m not surprised. They’re very good at their craft, aren’t they?”

“Remarkably good at it,” Hammer Strike agreed.

“By the way, just how large did you want to make the market district, anyway?”

“Decent scale. It’s to give those of all backgrounds and races a means with which to trade with any other of any kind.”

“Even races we haven’t had contact with yet?”

“Not currently. Or at least the paperwork hasn’t reached me yet.”

“I suppose it’s only a matter of time before those ones come, too. You are a rather large figure in Equis’ history, after all.”

“Hopefully, things will liven up in a positive manner with the influx of merchants and goods. Though now the guard is being scheduled on much larger scale routes.”

“The better to steal the good ones from the guard before the nobles spoil them,” Rarity said with a mischievous giggle.

The rest of their journey went unmolested. The cool night air and clear skies left a whole galaxy of stars painted across the sky in bands dyed by the silvery light of the moon and the gasses and debris that floated far off in the vast body of space. After a prolonged goodbye and a few kisses for extra measure, Hammer Strike returned to the city again as he pondered the day’s events and the future that was yet to rise.

As Hammer Strike passed by one of the smaller buildings, the door opened and an aged dark-coffee-colored stallion exited carrying a large rectangular sign. He was wearing a black apron and had a thin body, yet surprisingly it didn’t seem emaciated.

“Finishing preparations?” Hammer Strike questioned with a small grin.

The stallion looked up at the voice. He wore a black pair of thin frame glasses. His mane was deep black, despite his age. And while his maneline was receding in the front, the back was on the longer side, stopping just above his neck. His mane joined a thin set of sideburns that followed his jawline to form a small beard. “Oh, hello.” His voice was perfectly even as he seemed to take Hammer Strike in at a glance. “Yes, I’m just hanging this sign, and I think I'll have it ready.”

“It’ll be nice having a Café near the castle. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of customers.”

“It will be nice to get out of Canterlot. Ponies have no taste there,” the stallion agreed. “I’m Coffee Karē.”

“Glad to match the name with the face.” Hammer Strike held out his hoof. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Same.” The older stallion lowered the sign and took the hoof.

“I hope you’re prepared. The guard have been eagerly awaiting a Café.” He chuckled.

Coffee laughed.“I look forward to it. Guard were pretty much the only business I had in Canterlot, and most of them went to Donut Joe, anyway.”

“Thankfully, it appears there are no other Cafés or coffee shops opening anytime in the near future, so you should have an easy time in the formation of the city. Is it safe to assume you’ve purchased a house as well, or are you renting a room in one of the hotels?”

“I had a small place built above the Café. I don't need a lot, not since my daughter moved out, so it’s fine.”

“So I’ve heard.” Hammer Strike chuckled. “She speaks fondly of you.”

This seemed to give the older stallion pause. “You’ve met my daughter?”

“I met her and Collector not too long ago. And after some discussions, they’re both working for me.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “They help out a lot with my paperwork, so they stay well informed.”

“So, you’re the one who’s been keeping the guard off their tail.” Coffee smiled. “Thank you. They’re good kids.”

“I know. Looking into their case further, it doesn’t seem like they’d resort to some of the claims put against them.”

“I doubt they would, but, well, you’ve obviously read the colt’s file. Something like that never quite fades.”

“If it works against someone in Canterlot, it’ll be abused, yeah.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Around here, though, I think if someone caught wind of it, they’d pat him on the back and ask if the other stallion deserved it.”

The stallion chuckled. “It’s true what they say, then. Unity’s the city for new starts?”

“Most certainly is.” He smiled. “I hope you have a pleasant stay. I’ll be sure to tell them you’ve arrived.”

“Come down sometime and I’ll brew you a cup of my special blend,” Coffee offered.

Hammer Strike smiled. “I’ll see to it.”


The Bladefeather compound was packed, due to the events of moving. Grif had been unable to announce to the family about the events from Earth. Today, he was to rectify that. And as such, he’d called every gryphon he could feasibly call back without causing mayhem. He’d even called Tall Oak and little Willow to the compound, which had resulted in Big Mac coming as well. He’d made sure to position them up at the front as the crowd was slowly prodded and jostled into something resembling order. Grif stood in front of the Bladefeather emblem and Kel’leam’s shield, both of which had been freshly polished and shined by Grif himself. Avalon, Shrial, and Gilda stood at the front slightly closer to him than the rest while the children were kept occupied by Thalia and Kalima in the front row. The council members stood behind the emblem.

“Friends, family, Bladefeathers!” A quiet fell over the assembled Gryphons like a heavy blanket. “For millennia and times lost to us from before the Discordian era, we have been cut off from the Winds. Those who filled our wings with the warmth of wisdom and pride, those who gave us our honor when our mother Faust left us to languish. We have since lost the weapons that our ancestors wielded. We have been divided, and our streets have run with the blood of millions who have died in this era of chaos.” He looked around to the reactions. The crowd seemed between annoyed and saddened at being reminded of how far they had fallen as a species.

“Well, today we mark in our history the beginning of the end of this era of chaos.” That got more then a few heads perked up. “Today, I announce the start of the return of the gods and the twilight that signals the end of this dark period.” Grif stopped momentarily, unsure why he’d used the term twilight. It had seemingly popped itself there without his consent. Putting himself past it, he smiled. “I have gathered the topaz.” Grif laid the buckler in front of the Bladefeather symbol. “My rightful prize of conquest from the deposing of a traitor. And the sapphire.” He laid the belt down in front of the buckler. “Gifted to me by the head of house Farflyer as his daughter’s dowry. I also have the twin emeralds.” He took the daggers which he’d taken back from Little Willow and Tall Oak, who’d happily returned them to him, and laid them one on each side of the topaz upon the belt. “Given to me by my wife Shrial, formerly of house Bloodfeather and rightful inheritor. And finally, the ruby.” His hands shook as he laid his bow across the others carefully. “Gifted to me by my father upon his deathbed. If there is a warrior here who would dispute my claim to the five stones, let him step out and challenge me before the assembly.”

Grif waited. There would be no challenge. This, he already knew, but it felt right to leave the matter open for a short time. When no Gryphon was forthcoming, he nodded.

“The stones are only part of it. Every cub knows you cannot undo what's been done without the traitor's blood!” a heckler called from the crowd.

Grif smiled. “That is true, and would be the major issue here. But on my recent trip to Earth, I found out that the Thestral Pensword of house Pen, who many of you will confirm is able to interact with spirits, was led to this.” Grif unsheathed a shining curved blade and held it aloft. “The khopesh of the warrior Thoth, willingly gifted to me through Pensword in proxy of Thoth himself. And according to the Thestral, the traitor’s blood is still very much present on the blade. My family, for the first time in our history, all the pieces are assembled.” In a fluid flourish of motion, he stabbed the blade into the stone of the emblem. No one noticed the light flash as Grif thaumicaly locked the blade in place.

“Later tomorrow, Avalon will be checking for any willing volunteers to see if they have the gift. Then she will begin working toward preparing for the ritual immediately. We have already contacted the dwarves about a piece of quartz large enough to fit our purposes, and I would ask the craftsmen around you to help in the creation of the medallion we will need. Tomorrow, our work begins. But tonight, my brothers, we celebrate. Bring out the food! Bring out the wine! The era of chaos is ending!”

With that, Grif threw his head back and crowed. The council crowed, his family crowed, and, in a massive mayhem of noise, the Bladefeather compound lit up with the crows of victory. Word would begin spreading immediately. For the first time in who knew how long, Gryphons had hope.


Pensword wasn’t sure if he liked the situation. He could handle the yelling, the clicking, the squawks, the bartering, and the begging. But this, this was much worse. “Preston, do I have any meetings at all?”

“No, this is your Gryphon time,” Preston called out from the front office.

“Are there any meetings I can crash?” he asked a little more pointedly. He’d already reorganized his office twice. He went through his paperwork faster than normal, even. Everything was either in the out basket or filed away in the correct folder.

Preston walked in a few seconds later. “What’s wrong? You seem more upset than usual.”

“They’re not here. The Gryphon’s aren’t bothering me tonight.”

“That is odd,” Preston agreed. “Your room is usually filled with emotions this time every night.”

“Not when half of them are celebrating, cheering, and spreading the news while the other half are packing their bags and trying their hardest to settle debts and move on. Tonight, even Dakota is taking a break.”

Before they could say anything more, a familiar voice piped in shrilly. “Daddy get book?” There was Moon River staring up from the bottom of his desk.

Pensword didn’t flinch. He was used to the filly’s habit of stealth by now. “I have your book, but that is for this morning. I wanted to make sure it was something for both of us to enjoy.”

Moon River’s eyes widened with glee. “Nighty Night?” she asked.

Pensword frowned. “You mean Night Terror?”

“Nighty Night,” Moon River replied with more emphasis. “No Terror. Fun. Funny. Joy.” She gesticulated with her hooves, at a loss for words. “Nighty Night.”

Pensword smiled. “Has she heard that name yet?”

Moon River blushed. “No….”

“You should tell her, then.” Pensword grinned. “She might like it.”

The foal beamed. “Okay, Daddy. Nighty Night hears story, too!”

Pensword frowned. The request wasn’t something unheard of. He just hoped his wives would let Night Terror leave for her own bed after the story was done. After all, the courtship had only just begun.


Vital Spark glared at the practice dummy, then shouted as he raced forward with hunga munga in his magical grip. He skidded on his knees to duck an imaginary blow and struck with the blade while simultaneously pulling his staff out to block an invisible blow from above. Then he drove the staff on a diagonal to divert the imaginary weapon and used the friction to adjust his momentum. The air whistled as the hunga munga spun and embedded itself into the dummy’s back.

“Not my best, but I suppose it’s not too bad,” he said to himself.

“A little sloppy with the last two blocks. A Unicorn trained in advanced spear tactics could have overcome it in four different ways, two of them using that momentum against you.” A familiar Unicorn with mixed fur and chitin stepped out of the shadows.

“I was imagining a particular thrust when I blocked. Your spear practitioners probably could have countered the block, but then I could easily have redirected their counter as well. It’s a matter of real life application versus the theory.” He sighed. “Would that I had a sparring partner.” Then he smiled. “Then again, I may have one ready and waiting. Care to join me for a match, Silver Spear?”

Silver Spear chuckled. “Are you sure you can handle me, Vital Spark? I’m not an invalid anymore.”

“You make it sound like I was looking for a handicap,” Vital countered with a smirk as he retrieved his blade. “You haven’t even seen how I handle a rungu.”

“Oh? A Zebrican weapon. Not many can say they know how to use one. Are you sure you can handle it?”

The Unicorn smirked as he hovered the triple-bladed hunga munga in front of his face. “That’s classified, Silver. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Silver Spear smirked as he withdrew a practice spear from the rack. “I like your spirit. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

“Wait a minute.” Vital raised his voice. “If anyone wants to place bets, now would be a good time!”

Several hooves shuffled in the background and the shadows, followed by hasty whispers.

Vital Spark nodded primly and polished a hoof against his chest fur. “Now then, one final question. Did you want us to include combat magic or stick solely to skill with our weapons?”

“Weapons only. We can use magic to control our weapons, but not to cast. That kind of duel would make the match go too long, and neither of us can afford to lose that much time.”

Vital smiled. “Sounds good to me. Just a moment.” His horn flashed as a thin shimmering veil wrapped around the blades. “There. Enchantment to make sure there’s no lethal cuts. They can connect, but won’t actually break our skin or chitin.” He stepped back and braced himself as he faced his opponent. “Ready?”

Silver Spear launched using his hind hooves and started with a piercing jab. Vital was swift to evade, and caught the haft of the spear between the tines of his hunga munga.

“Careful, Silver Spear. A colt’s liable to lose his weapon that way.” Vital smirked as he slid his weapon down the shaft and removed it. “Dirty trick, though. This is a sparring match, after all.”

“In actual combat, the opponent doesn’t respond,” Silver Spear countered as he set his spear again. This time, Vital Spark took the initiative and charged with a look of grim intent. Silver sprung back from the attack with practiced ease. “Good. Good. You’re not so green, after all.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Vital returned as he circled Silver Spear. The warrior reacted in kind.

Silver lashed out with a quick one-two blow with his spear. The butt clancked against the stout wood of Vital’s staff. The Unicorn barely managed to get it out in time.

“Ah, the feinting game, is it?” Vital smirked. “Let’s play!”

Silver Spear thrust his weapon forward and watched as Vital countered to slide the blow aside. Silver Spear countered by using his own magical aura to send the wooden end of the weapon flying toward Vital’s face. A swift strike countered the attempt and nimbly balanced Silver Spear’s rebounds like a teeter totter.

“All right, let’s test your control,” Silver Spear said as the spear unleashed a flurry of blows a regular Pony could never unleash on their own. The loud staccato of wood striking wood echoed and rebounded through the training arena. Vital Spark panted as the blows continued to rain down on him. This was more than mere telekinesis. This was the magic of a special talent at work.

“Clever,” Vital growled. He waited patiently and timed the frenzy of blows. Then he braced himself for the inevitable. His staff shifted just slightly too far along the padded spear’s shaft, and the end struck at Vital’s shoulder. The Unicorn grunted and seized the weapon in his hooves as his hunga munga zipped after the noble.

Silver Spear moved to the side to avoid the hit while pushing the spear into Vital’s side. “You are really good. I must have been out longer than I thought.” He panted from the exertion.

Vital grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself. But you might want to take a look behind you.” A large polished ornate wooden club hovered in the air directly near the base of Silver Spear’s neck. One good whack, and it would be lights out. “What do you say we call it a draw?”

“A draw sounds good.”

The two reclaimed their weapons and Vital smirked as they approached the weapons rack. “So, how much do you think the newbies are going to hate us for the coin Bookie just conned them out of?”

“They’ll be smarter. A few lost coins makes any soldier a wise Pony. Although you might want to keep a sharp ear out. It seems the commander still can’t lose a poker game.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t gamble then, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “All that exercise really works up an appetite, though. How about you join me in the mess hall for a meal, Silver? I’d like to get to know you better, and combat only tells you so much.”

“If you don’t mind me snacking on yours, too.”

Vital grinned. “Steal at your own peril, Mister Spear. To me, food is sacred.”


Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he finished working on his current stack of paperwork. The brief break had left him somewhat behind on some papers, and Silent Collector and Oracle could only do so much alongside Tower and Blast Shield.

He gave a brief chuckle. Despite hiring them for other purposes, such as keeping an eye on them, they proved quite valuable in terms of work. The duo even seemed to enjoy their work, probably due to it being significantly better than a cell, but it was useful to him nevertheless.

It also helped that they appeared quite adept with combat. Well, Collector was. Oracle was clearly the brains of their operations, given how much she could multitask with perfect efficiency. Collector was abnormally quiet in his movement, leading to a few times where Hammer Strike didn’t register him until Collector was within ten feet of his door.

Besides that, Collector was very perceptive and agile, especially for a Unicorn of his nature. His reaction times alone gave Hammer Strike some surprise, as he could react to arrows and bolts flying in his direction and respond accordingly, dodging efficiently, albeit with some added flare.

Their skills were quite useful in case of emergencies. Or in Hammer Strike’s case, they were useful for some of his later plans. While Grif and others of the Gryphon Compound were spectacular at hiding their presence, they had the trouble of being unable to blend into the crowd in areas like Canterlot. Collector had the air of a noble when he wanted to, able to put the act up front within a moment.

Hammer Strike hummed aloud as he thought to himself. With everything as it currently was, perhaps he would take some time to get to know them better. While passing conversations were quite common, it didn’t give him a full set to work with. If something came up that required him that wasn’t deadly, perhaps he’d invite them to come along. It would certainly assist him in figuring them out further.

If Coffee was anyone to go off of, they were certainly unique.


Pensword was busy cradling his noggin with a wing. A band of unaligned Gryphons had come to the compound, and he was speaking with an elected representative on the spot. “So, tell me again, why do I have thirty Gryphon adults and twenty cubs meeting with the Thestrals and myself and not Grif Bladefeather?”

“We heard there might be a contract coming up for stonework.”

“All over the city, from the Gryphons, the Dwarves love apprentices to teach some of the less dangerous stuff. The regular Ponies need stone workers to build civilian dwellings. But you came to us, to the Thestrals, and specifically the High Duke of Ys. Why?”

“Because you need warehouses, and you’ll find no finer stone work here than what we can offer.”

“And what will you plan when the contract is over? I feel I should tell you that we usually work with the Bladefeathers, if necessary. Why should we go with you over them?”

“Because we’ll be cheaper in the long run. Bladefeathers are mercenaries first. That means they’ll charge surcharges for all their work. The fee we give you will be a flat rate, no matter how the project goes.”

Pensword pondered the wisdom of the bid. He had yet to go through the process of hiring the Bladefeathers. “And what is to keep you and the Bladefeathers from fighting? Or a project from being abandoned? These warehouses are to be used to bring in more commerce. Are you all stonemasons? If not, what will the other Gryphons do while the stonemasons work?”

“Were all masons and apprentices,” the spokesman said coldly. “And we never abandon a project.”

Pensword narrowed his gaze speculatively. “And would you be willing to teach those who ask?”

“For a fair price,” the Gryphon countered. “Work is one thing. Training is another.”

“I think that can be agreed upon. We’ll consider that possibility when it comes. What do you see as a fair price for working on the warehouses?”

“A hundred and forty bits a week.”

“Ninety-five bits,” Pensword countered.

“We couldn’t feed everyone on ninety-five. One-thirty. That's more than fair.”

“And some of the feeding is done by hunting in the forest. One hundred bits, and we’ll help with weapon repairs.”

“Hundred and twenty five. We’re already offering you a discount because materials are close by.”

“Hundred ten. We’re still starting out. The city is not yet rich, and it is coming out of the Thestral Coffers. You get to pick your small section to even build on for your homes.”

The Gryphon spit in his palm and held it out.

Pensword nodded, spat onto his hoof, and held it out. “Then we have an accord.”

The Gryphon took the hoof and they shook.

“I will introduce you to the leaders of the project. They can tell you more of what is needed. We’ll see about arranging temporary housing for you as well, until a more permanent solution can be considered.”

The Gryphon nodded and signaled the others to follow.


Vital Spark breathed deeply and sighed as he sat in meditation on a fluffy pillow. “Oh, mighty universe, speak to me,” he said as he raised his forehooves and smirked at the snort he heard from the other side of the room. He opened one eye and smiled lovingly at the mare of his dreams. “Made you laugh.”

“Hush. We’re supposed to be practicing channeling as conduits, remember?” Trixie said and smiled helplessly.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, there are different methods for different people. In theory, anyone can become a conduit, though how much power they can channel and interpret varies. There were quite a few people back on Earth who claimed to have that gift. And if they could manage it there, then I can only imagine how potent the ability must be like here in a world that’s saturated with mana.”

“And what about you?” Trixie asked.

Vital shrugged. “At closest, I was probably what a lot of people might call a sensitive. If I did act as a conduit, it was rarely for things there. It usually had to do with other worlds I conceived in my head. Or maybe they were real, and I was just watching things unfold. Who knows?” He shrugged again. “I can tell you the feeling is pretty cool, though. Sort of a universal tingle that reaches deep down, and you know there’s something flowing into you. Was that what it felt like when you … you know, came back?”

“I don’t really know,” she answered and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It happened so fast. I don’t really recall what it was like.”

“I guess that makes sense. You did basically get brought back from the grave. A lot of the time, people tend to forget whatever they may experience on the other side, or so I’ve been told.” He smiled and sidled up to his wife. “You know, Clover never stipulated we had to try the project alone.” He nuzzled her on the neck, then blew gently in her ear as he gazed amorously at her. “What do you say we … collaborate?”

“Sounds tempting.” She chuckled.

“Well, I could grow a pair of horns by my ears, if that’ll help me look more devious.” He winked at her, then kissed her forehead.

“I think you have enough of those already,” she teased.

“Oh, so you noticed, did you?” He wiggled his brow playfully.

She laughed. “Quit trying to be charming.”

“What about bewitching? Is that out of bounds?”

She kissed him. “We’ll talk.”

“Good. Just as long as Murphy doesn’t enter into the occasion. I’m fine with a little bromance, but a colt needs some alone time with his mare, you know.” He kissed her back. “And it is beautiful tonight.” He kissed her again. “So are you.”


Grif would have been the first to admit he had not foreseen the meeting request that had been brought to him by a scout that morning, or he probably would have expected it to be a trap. But here he sat at his desk looking across to the mercenary leader who had walked into his compound with little more than a single knife.

“Hello again, Twitch. It’s been a while,” Grif noted.

“It really has.” Twitch smiled. “Sorry, but there never was a contract in the area. Of course, nobody could really afford it either.”

“Well, naturally, I imagine you’d charge a hefty surcharge for entering my territory, just like I would for yours.” Grif nodded. “Would you like a drink or something?”

“Tempting as that offer is, I think I’ll wait.”

“So, why did you want to see me? I haven’t heard of any fighting between our people yet.”

“As if you don’t know.” Twitch chuckled before his expression dropped. “Money’s beginning to run tight in Canterlot. And while I love dealing with the other groups, I need to change track before they attempt to bring me down with them.”

“Friends of yours no longer have the deep pockets?” Grif smirked. “Just what are you offering?”

“Well, I figured an established Gryphon, such as yourself, could use some assistance behind the scenes. Yes, you’ve got muscle, but I haven’t caught any wind of you dabbling in doing things from the shadows.” He chortled. “Apart from your own personal activity, that is.”

“I could always use some more blades in the dark, this is true.” Grif nodded. “What's to keep them from ending up in my back, though?”

“Because all I have left are the ones I trust.”

“Guessing some of them at least have families, and you’re running out of safe houses for them?” Grif asked.

“We would have been fine if those nobles didn’t start changing how they dealt with each other,” he growled. “Too many uncertainties. And when members start growing light in the purse....”

Grif rose to his feet slowly and moved to his filing cabinet. The steady flick of parchment fluttered through the air. “Well, I’m sure we can work something out. That being said, I don’t think we’ll be adding you to the clan. I’d rather you keep your vote incase the four of us ever have to meet again. That being said, you understand why I can't take you at your word.” He pulled out a sheet of paper, returned to the desk, and set the contract before Twitch. “This is something new I’ve been working on, a type of magical contract, just to keep everything safe between us. I can’t alter it or the terms, so don’t worry about that part. You’re welcome to read it, but it’s pretty basic. You and your men agree to a few simple rules. You don’t raise weapons to me, my people, Hammer Strike, or his people. You don’t take jobs from people on a list. In return, you get a salary, a bonus on successful jobs done, and a guarantee for the protection of your non-combatants.” Grif slid it over. “Signed in blood, if you would.”

Twitch didn’t even bother reading it as he nicked his talon and signed. “Better than I was anticipating.”

“And what were you anticipating?”

“I may be considered unstable, but I’m no fool. It was either you accepted my offer or I wouldn’t be walking out of here. Didn’t expect, well, the idea of a salary … or protection.”

“Twitch, you realize if things don’t change, our species could be extinct in less than two centuries?” Grif asked.

“I suppose that would be bad for business.”

“You may be unstable, but you have a reputation for getting a job done and avoiding unnecessary collateral damage. Mostly because that would mean people saw you, but still. There is value in that. Killing you would be a waste of talent.”

“Aw, stop. You’ll make me blush.” Twitch began to laugh. “All right then, boss, when do you want to meet the remains?”

“Sundown. It’ll give me a chance to gather up the few Black Tips I have working around here. I’m sure your boys and they will find a lot to talk about.”

Twitch gaped briefly, then regained his wits and shrugged. “Never hurts to find a new perspective.”


Rarity’s squeal of delight Carried all the way out from Ponyville. It rang like a nagging fly in the Demos’ ears, then in everypony else’s as the mare galloped closer. A dust cloud showed on the horizon, followed by the familiar purple mane. Her clearance badge was already flashing in the air as she approached to signal the outer gate. The inner gate soon followed as every guard in the vicinity flinched. A few moments later, she burst through her husband’s door and into his office.

Hammer Strike blinked a few times, holding his quill still as he was mid-sentence. After a second, he placed it down and returned his attention to the mare. “I … yes? Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you over so soon.”

Rarity levitated a large scroll with the seal of a mare in a gown holding her head high. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I simply cannot believe it!” She pranced excitedly in place as she unfurled the scroll for her husband to read.

Hammer Strike read over the scroll before letting out a hum. “Oh, now? Congratulations on the invite.”

“It’s only the major fashion event of the year, darling. Just imagine what it could do for my business. Real exposure across all of Equestria!” She squealed again. “Oh, I can hardly wait. But I have to ask. Will you be free to come support me at the debut?”

He smiled. “I actually should be.”

“Oh, excellent. You, the girls, oh, and of course we’ll need to invite the others. And I’ll need to prepare a list of gifts to bring back for the troops as well. Do you think Grif and his wives will want to come? I hear there may be some equipment for magical channeling featured as part of the display, and there are even some Gryphon fashion designers coming to feature armor pieces.”

“I can pass the invitation along, though I’m unsure on if they’ll accept. Last I checked in, Grif was busy with some … reorganization.”

“You mean the new station you gave him?”

“Correct.”

“How is he settling in? He didn’t put up too much of a fuss, I hope.”

“I gave him little room for a valid argument.”

“So, it’s mostly his pride?”

“Something else.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “Anyway, how long do we have until the trip?”

“The competition is in nine days. That gives us a week to prepare and a day to travel and set up. Oh, it’s going to be simply marvelous!” She beamed at her husband, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I’ll check in with Grif and the others later.” He smiled. “Since you’re here, would you like some tea?”

Rarity fluttered her lashes and giggled flirtatiously. “Oh, yes.”


Commander Pensword strode through the Thestral settlement dressed in his Ursa robes and carrying a string of Hatchets. The Gryphon contractors were already getting side projects. He counted no less than six homes undergoing renovations replacing the temporary wooden structures with larger stone construction. Some homes were being combined into larger structures. The only building not seeing renovation was the longhouse. However, due to the upkick in aggressive invasions, a temporary structure was being mapped out with sticks and twine to protect the property until the dwarves finished the city’s walls.

Arrows were being carved, fletching added, and the scent of tanning chemicals drifted on the air. He frowned. At this rate of expansion, he might need to see about getting permission for farther expansion. There was also the need for more space to train the young to hunt. The Everfree Forest was for the most experienced. He would need to arrange zoning or clearance of some sort to create hunting camps in White Tail Woods. “Yet another request to file,” he muttered and shook his head.

“It is humbling, is it not? And perhaps a little overwhelming.” The rumbling growl of the bear spoke from his side.

“It is,” Pensword agreed. “Equestria has come a long way from the Third Gryphon War.” He opened his eyes to look to the Bear, happy to see him clear as day. It seemed his gift this time was not affected.

“The mantle of leadership is a difficult one to bear. Be careful not to be crushed by the weight,” Dakota warned. Then he smiled. “But I am not here for dark forebodings or cryptical doomsayings. I’ve come to inform you that you’ll be leaving this place for a time. You will travel to one of the large cities, where you will speak with the father of the one whom you are courting.”

“So, I finally get to confront Blueblood again. He hasn’t been answering any of my letters. I wondered when I would have the opportunity to circumvent his stonewalling. I wish I could have met him in Blueblood Manor, but it is of no concern now. I’ll take Night Terror with me as well, and Fox Feather. Lunar Fang needs to oversee some of the early foals blessings, so I won’t be able to bring her.” He sighed. “I hope it all turns out well.”

“I am sure it will,” the bear said.

Pensword nodded. “I suppose I should head back to continue my training.”

Dakota bowed his head. “As you choose. Tread carefully, Pensword. And remember my words.”

“I will.”


Vital Spark frowned as he looked over his summoning manual. “So, if I’m going to succeed at forming the contract, I either need someone who’s already formed the contract to summon the spirit or wait for a time when the veil is thin enough to converse and conjure on my own power,” he mused. Aria chirped and stroked her beak gently over his muzzle. He chuckled. “Guess I know which of the two choices you like best.”

He frowned and ran his hoof over the text. “I’ll definitely need to see about finding someone who can help me locate some quality gems, though. And since the dwarves are so busy working on the defenses, I’ll probably need to ask somepony else.” He tapped his chin pensively as he gazed down on the diagram for the summoning ritual. “I wonder what would happen if I were to form the summoning circle out of my offering,” he mused. “It could prove an interesting necklace for her to wear…”

Aria squawked, then fluttered to Vital’s wardrobe and circled it.

“What is it, girl?”

She clawed at the knob with her talons and flapped in front of the door. A few seconds later, the door opened under the Unicorn’s instruction. The young cryophoenix snatched a familiar red polo shirt in her beak and flew over to her partner.

“Okay, so you’re giving me my shirt, why, exactly?”

Aria rolled her eyes and let Vital Spark take the shirt, then settled on the floor and preened her feathers into a flowing style as she hopped around with a puffed chest and eyes made luminous by her icy nature. She gave her head a toss and her feathers along her crest swayed perfectly as she fluttered her eyes at him.

“I’m going to assume you’re pretending to be somepony,” Vital said.

Aria fixed him with a deadpan stare.

“And I know that look well enough from everyone else to know you think I should’ve gotten it right off the bat.”

The avian nodded and hopped to her adopted parent, then promptly pecked him hard on the forehead, followed by an authoritative flap of the wing motioning toward the garment again.

“Okay, so it has to do with the garment and somepony who cares about flirting shamelessly and looking good?”

Aria nodded just once.

“... You want me to go see Rarity, don’t you?”

Aria blinked and mounted onto her perch without so much as a head bob.

“Young lady, you are spending far too much time with Clover for your own good.”

The cryophoenix chuckled to itself.

Vital rolled his eyes. “Fine, with some role model who’s having a bad influence on you. Better?”

Aria didn’t deign him with a reply.

“If this is just the beginning, I shudder to picture how you’ll act when you reach your teenage years.”

Aria flicked her tail dismissively and flew out the window to leave Vital Spark to his own devices.

Vital sighed helplessly. “Kids.”


Grif watched the scene unfolding quietly. As he’d said, Avalon had previously made her way through the compound testing Gryphons for the gift of evoking. Of the ones she found, she had cut it down to the youngest of them, no older than twenty, to make learning easier. From that group, she’d asked for volunteers, which had cut the number down further. Of the four hundred or so Gryphons now living in the compound, only twenty were undergoing training.

The room had been a spare, added into the construction of the main clan building just in case. Tables had been set up across it with containers holding pieces of quartz, fastenings of various metals, and natural components ranging from feathers of songbirds to burnt twigs and wood chips. Grif watched proudly as Avalon dutifully walked her class through the process of constructing foci. He was amazed to watch her putting components together on her demo piece with such grace and accuracy.

“Now, there is something you all need to know about the art. As I have said previously, the power of the focus allows us to call upon the elements and unlock those aspects within our magical fields.” She held up her focus. “The quality of the ingredients will increase the potency of the magic that can be invoked without straining the focus. However, walking the path of the evoker is much like walking the path of a contract. So long as you remain worthy of that contract, your potential will be vastly greater. Should any of you break that contract, however, you will find your abilities become weaker, and will require more of you joining forces to achieve your goals. This is one reason why the evokers of old were able to be overthrown by the Equestrians.”

Grif gave a gentle knock, figuring this may be as good a time to interrupt as any.

“Well well, the prodigal student returns,” Avalon joked, then motioned to Grif. “Everyone, I’m sure there’s no need to introduce my husband. What can we do for our fine clan leader today?”

“As much as I hate to interrupt this lesson, I was wondering if I could borrow you for a minute?” Grif returned.

Avalon raised a curious brow, but nodded and looked sternly at her students. “You are to select a core piece for the first focus you wish to create. There will be no further action on your parts, understood? The requisite material on the affinity for each of the pieces I’ve assembled can be found on the sheets in front of you. When I return, I expect you to each have settled on one specific core. We will build many foci, so don’t worry about it being flashy this time. This is merely to practice the theory.” She then approached her husband, followed him out, and closed the door behind them. “All right, Grif, what is it?”

“Hammer Strike just informed me that Rarity is heading out to a fashion contest in Manehattan within the next week, and she wanted to know if the family could come. Gilda’s decided to stay home. Shrial’s decided to come. I needed to know what you’re doing.”

“That depends. Will Cheshire be willing to help or will Gilda be alone?”

“You know Cheshire well help.” He chuckled.

She smirked. “And will the rest of the compound be able to take it? You know the kind of chaos she can brew when she puts her mind to it.”

“Last I checked, that son of hers is keeping her busy.” He smirked. “Besides, it’s a short trip. We’ll be gone three days at maximum.”

“Three days maximum. Now why does that sound so familiar?” Avalon mused as she tapped her beak cheekily and smiled.

He grinned as he leaned in and nipped her ear gently. “Give us plenty of time to work on the next one,” he whispered.

Avalon blushed heavily as her wings flapped out involuntarily. “Grif! You did that on purpose!” Then she laughed and cradled his beak in her talons to draw him in. “Oh, how I love you.” And then she kissed him.

“I love you, too,” he said after they parted. “So, that’s a yes?”

Avalon smiled. “Mais oui.

Merci.” Grif returned the gesture with a bow and a kiss to her hand. “Now I have preparations to make, and you have a class to teach.”

“True. It’s time to make some magic.” She winked, then turned and sashayed back into the classroom. “See you tonight, mon cher.

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