An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

179 - Bloodlines

Extended Holiday
Chapter 179: Bloodlines

---

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth in Clover’s study as four large and high-backed chairs circled the fire’s edge. Yharon laid on a large pile of cushions that formed the highest arc of the curve. Hammer Strike and Clover sat on either side of him while Luna and Celestia took the two chairs closest to the hearth. Mugs of ale and literal moonshine either nursed in their grips, hovered in magic, or laid on handy side tables while they sat together.

“So,” Yharon began, “now that we’re all together again, I suppose we should get to work catching up. It’s been thousands of years since Discord attacked. What happened while I was asleep? What have I missed?”

“A lot,” Luna said. She swayed ever so slightly in her seat, being somewhat tipsy after pounding back her moonshine.

“Clearly. So, let’s start with the bigger things. I know you two were able to find the tree, and she was able to give you the help you needed. What happened after that?”

Celestia shrugged. “We rebuilt. Without you or Father present, it was all we knew how to do. However, we each still knew you would return one day,” Celestia said as she motioned toward Hammer Strike. “So, rather than allow the populace to confirm either of us as queen, we put our heads together to ensure a relative balance could be maintained in the kingdom. Any that seek to claim dominion over Equestria must reclaim the crown jewels of the kingdom and gather them in the throne room.” She smirked. “You won’t believe how many years we had to deal with people trying to fool us into thinking they’d brought them. Luna and I made a game of expelling them from the castle.” She giggled and almost snorted some of her ale up her nose. “Remember how you treated one of the nobles like a golf ball, Luna?”

“As I remember, you always made a big show of rebuking me in front of the nobility,” Luna said.

“Would you rather we invited a revolt? There was no way the kingdom could have afforded it so soon after Discord was imprisoned.”

“It certainly does sound like the better option,” Hammer Strike offered.

“Didn’t help things in the end,” Luna said before taking another deep gulp. “Look where it got us.”

Celestia frowned. “Yes.” She sighed and sipped from her stein. “I know….”

“Nothing goes perfectly to plan.” Hammer Strike sighed. “You can only make do with what you are given.”

Celestia sighed again. “I suppose I should get the worst of it out of the way now, Yharon. We ruled Equestria for many years, but that rule wasn’t truly an equal one. Over the years, the Ponies came to fear Luna, even despise her. In the end, that and my own hubris allowed for terrible wrongs to take place. Ultimately, Luna was left alone. I didn’t give her the care or the respect she deserved at the time. And … I played favorites.” She took another pull. “I suppose it’s better to say I was too soft on enforcing the laws we laid out in the first place, and the Thestrals suffered because of it. And by extension, so, too, did Luna.” She gulped down the rest of the contents, then continued. “Because of my actions, Luna lost the only pillar of support she had left. The end result was full possession by the creature that Equestria has come to call Nightmare Moon.”

Celestia sighed. “I had no idea the depth of the pain she had bottled up for so long until she finally raised her horn against me. We’d sparred before, but this time, she was completely unrestrained. I couldn’t reason with her, and I hadn’t a prayer of fighting her on equal ground. The harmony we’d carried between us as sisters was shattered, and now she posed a threat not only to me but to the entire kingdom, perhaps even the world.

“So, I did the one thing I could do. I summoned the power of the Elements of Harmony. They answered my call, but they didn’t save Luna. They banished her to the moon, sealed her there. I suppose it’s better to say that they wouldn’t save her, at least not then. I remember hearing a voice. Or maybe it was voices.” She shook her head. “It or they spoke to me. ‘This shall be your punishment. This shall be your burden to bear.’ Luna was gone. And after I used them, the Elements grew still and went dormant. I could never call on them again. Believe me, I tried. I wanted to bring her back so badly. No one could console me, and after the destruction that we wreaked, I couldn't bear to stay. Thus, Canterlot was born.”

“Is that why you built your castle on the side of a mountain?”

“I suppose I hoped to be left in peace. The mountain was much more difficult to traverse back then. But you know how stubborn Ponies can be. They find a way.”

“I hope you’ve had ponies reinforce the mountain,” Clover commented. “Seems like a landslide could take the entire city and the palace out.”

“If I’m being perfectly honest, I think I hoped one would. I … wasn’t in the best state back then. Proper precautions have been taken since, but at first, yes, it was a very dangerous place to settle.”

“Fear not, sister. All is in the past now. And with the High King returning, none shall touch my Thestrals without reason and get away. Long live the king!” Luna actually hiccuped and she held her stein up.

“Oh, the joys of ruling once more.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Indeed. It’ll take time before I’m ready, however. There are many things to do before I take that title back.”

“What I’m curious about is how Luna was returned, if not by your hooves,” Yharon pointed out. “It would take some very powerful magic to overcome that kind of seal.”

“I had help,” Luna said.

“And I had help in preparing to receive her. When enough of my melancholy passed, I knew I had two choices: Try to forget about Luna and move forward or try to find a means to save her. Four words decided that dilemma for me: What would Father do?” She smiled. “I found some trustworthy Ponies to oversee the House of Nobles and instructed them to take the reins of government in my absence until I should return.

“I travelled the world for a number of years. As an Alicorn, it was fairly easy. I journeyed to every possible location I could think of that might hold even a scrap of information that I could use. Eventually, I was drawn to the Zebra nation. One of their gods, the Titaness Opal, instructed them to assist me. They … had been expecting my arrival for some time. Their arts are of a different nature than any magic I’ve beheld before. And it was by these arts that a prophecy was divined, one which would grant me purpose and guide me toward the reconciliation I yearned for above all else.

“Of course, like all prophecies, there was more than one possible outcome, but I was granted enough instruction to plant the proper seeds and ensure the best one. The rest would rely on those whom the prophecy indicated, the current bearers of the Elements of Harmony. Were it not for Twilight and her friends, I fear Luna would have been lost to us forever.” Celestia shuddered. “I hate to even think of it.”

“But all is well now?” Yharon asked.

“Depends on your definition of well.” Luna laughed. “Everything’s peaceful for the moment, but Chrysalis is still out there, and other threats are still lying in wait. Sister, has anyone checked on Tirek’s containment in the last ten years?”

Celestia frowned. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“I’d recommend getting everything in order for when I do take the throne back,” Hammer Strike spoke up. “I’d rather not have to search through notes and reports from all over to figure out everything that’s been done.”

Yharon chuckled. “Just imagine the heads that are going to explode when Mother takes her role as High Queen again.”

New Unity rumbled as Luna’s loud laughter echoed through the castle.

---

The air was battered by the heavy beat of fiery feathered wings as Yharon settled outside the great cliff face that formed the entrance to the stockpile Grif guarded and the home that he and his family had built there. The Dragon cleared his throat and rapped against the door with a curled talon, then wreathed himself in magic as his form shrank to more suitable proportions for the doorway.

Grif opened the door a few minutes later. “Sorry for the wait. This place is big, and sometimes it takes a—” Grif cut off as he noticed the Dragon. “Oh. Hello, Yharon,” he greeted. “Please, come in.”

Yharon smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” As he stepped into the wide entry hall, he smiled and nodded his approval. “I see you also have a certain skill with stonework. My compliments.”

“This was made without my knowledge.” Grif laughed. “Your father and my clan decided I needed a bigger house, whether I wanted it or not. But you’re not here to see me.”

“No, I am not,” Yharon agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t pay respects to the master of the house, especially one who’s done so much for my father before I even knew him.”

“Your father did a lot for me.” Grif shrugged. “I’ll find Gilgamesh for you. Just wait here.”

Yharon nodded. “Of course.” He then proceeded to conjure a portal through which he withdrew a familiar black orb and a series of tomes and scrolls, alongside a sheaf of notes Clover had made on Gilgamesh’s unique mutation.

It didn’t take long for Gilgamesh to arrive before Yharon, and after briefly looking over Yharon, proceeded to lower his gaze to the floor. “I-I was told you were here for me?”

Yharon smiled gently. “I am. I’m told you have gotten to know my father very well. I hope we can build a similar relationship. Like you, I am … unique among my kind.” His feathers glowed gently, and a small ball of light pooled in an extended hand. “If you are willing to trust me, and to have me, I would like to try to teach you what he and my mother taught me.”

Gilgamesh looked over Yharon before giving a small nod. “I am w-willing to learn...”

Yharon nodded. “I am glad to hear it. Though before we are to begin, I must ask about any potential issues, fears, or triggers that you wish to be addressed. I don’t wish to cause you discomfort, especially since that appears to be one of the things that causes your magic to lash out in the first place.”

“I’m n-not exactly the bravest in the f-first place.” Gilgamesh rubbed the back of his neck. “S-so long as there aren't any surprises, I should be fine.”

“I will try to limit them at first, then,” Yharon promised. “But I cannot guarantee they will not come at some point in the future. Magic, for the most part, is easy to predict and control. But the more advanced one becomes in the art, the more it is capable of change and surprise. Magic, in its natural state, is a wild thing that is neither good nor evil. It is up to each individual to tap it, mold it, and shape it as they see fit. And sometimes, those shapes become something more than intended. Tell me, will you be willing to accept such changes, should they occur for you in your training?”

“I am. I j-just want to ease into it is what I meant.”

Yharon smiled. “Good. To fear what you are and what you wield would do far more harm than good. The fact you already understand that and wish to achieve mastery shows that you have potential. I am told that you have had some small amount of training in touching your magical field. Would you be willing to show me what you have learned thus far?”

“M-maybe we should move to some f-form of training grounds?” Gilgamesh frowned. “M-my primary attunement is fire, and I haven’t had too much practice.”

Yharon chuckled. “Then it seems you and I have another common thread. If you wish, I know of a place we can use to test ourselves in private. You need not fear scrutiny or mistakes there. Though I would not call them training grounds, per se, they will suffice for our needs.”

Gilgamesh nodded in return. A wave of Yharon’s wing conjured a portal with a ring of flames leading onto a barren mountain slope of rough-hewn rock with little foliage.

“After you. I promise, the flames will not hurt you. Given your affinity, they might even be pleasant.”

Gilgamesh hesitated before giving a nod and moving forward. True to the Dragon’s words, the passage was seamless and without any pain or unpleasant sensation. A few moments later, Yharon passed through carrying his notes and tools with him. His wings spread out, and a large magical circle spread from him to surround the pair and form a proper ring.

“There. That should suffice for our tests. After this assessment, I should have a better idea of where to begin with you.”

Gilgamesh nodded and held out his arms. After a few breaths, he focused on stimulating his magic, allowing a layer of it to become visible over his arms. The glow itself was a soft blue, and it almost seemed to flow around his talons.

“And is blue your natural aura?” Yharon questioned.

Gilgamesh nodded as he continued to focus on his magic.

“Very well. Then let us see just how well you can control it.” A merry orb of flame pulsed, bobbed, and spun in the air, conjured by the Dragon. “Fire loves to move, loves to dance. It is an element that embraces the value of all or nothing, consuming all it can until nothing is left, not even itself. Some may deem this a wicked trait, but to those of us whose nature is born of fire, we have a more intimate understanding.” He smiled. “Let us see just how deep your own understanding goes.”

---

Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he made his way across the castle toward the classroom provided to Clover. Having an open space in his schedule, he thought it best to finally get things settled on figuring out their family bloodline. Based on his estimates, Clover’s class would have just ended, which meant her schedule would be open as well.

As he entered the hallway leading to said classroom, he found a number of mages departing. Each stepped off to the side to allow him to pass. Upon entering the classroom, he noted a few familiar faces besides his wife. Twilight seemed to be gathering her notes and organizing them. Trixie happened to be off to the side with Vital assisting in tidying up the room. Beyond them stood a few straggling Unicorns taking their time departing.

“Hello, Hammer Strike,” Clover said over the fuss. “Sorry about the activity.”

“I planned to catch you just as you wrapped up your lesson.” Hammer Strike shook his head as he approached. “I figured I have some free time, and I thought we could use it to finally sort out the family tree, figure out where everything went.”

Clover nodded, her horn lighting as she moved several large desks and bookshelves aside to clear a large area. She levitated a small square of parchment forward and placed it down in the center of the space. It proceeded to unfold into a massive blank sheet of parchment that soon covered the entirety of the patch of floor. “This should be enough, I hope.”

“And I am suddenly reminded of two genius boys by the name of Phinneas and Ferb,” Vital Spark said as he approached the sheet. Then he smiled knowingly as he looked to his mentor and teacher. “I’m looking forward to this.”

Twilight strode forward and peered over the massive sheet. “There’s a spell that lets you create your family tree that easily?”

“Yes. However, it’s not a particularly useful one,” Clover stated. “It only works if you have the blood of the two progenitors of the bloodline you want to follow in liquid form. And it only works from that point forward.”

“So, you two are more the exception to the rule, thanks to all the time travel?” Twilight asked.

“Not entirely. It was invented at a time when Unicorns could boost their lifespans to a ridiculous point. So much, in fact, that it was easy to lose track of your progeny. The spell was made to keep … unpleasant accidents from happening,” Clover explained as she pricked her hoof with a needle. “It only reveals direct blood ties, so any mares or stallions that married into the line won’t appear.”

Hammer Strike, meanwhile, pulled a knife out of his coat to produce a drop of blood.

“So, how does the spell know who your descendants are?” Trixie asked.

“Essentially, it reverses genetic memory.” Clover took the needle and the knife in her magic and held them over the parchment. Two drops of blood slipped off and fell to the surface below. Then Clover produced a small pile of diamond dust and threw it on the parchment, followed by a bowl of ink from a giant squid and a small black pearl.

The pearl and the diamond dust burned away in blue flames as the ink globbed together, not even staining the parchment as the glob moved to the blood droplets. It swallowed them up, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the ink weaved across the parchment, leaving markings behind in its wake. Soon the names of Hammer Strike and Clover the Clever lay beside each other. A small branch bled down from that space. The name of Starlight Bulwark appeared. Beneath it, several branches developed listing various names, many of which gained still more. Numbers began appearing next to Ponies’ names, indicating dates of birth and death. It was apparent their descendants had a trend of either incredible longevity or surprisingly short lifespans. But few, if any, achieved the median.

Bloodlines were created and seemed to end. Yet no matter how bleak it seemed, a few branches always moved forward. Near the end of the parchment, the amount of names were so numerous the font had become exceptionally miniscule. Though between magically enhanced eyesight and mechanical eyes, both progenitors had no trouble reading the names. It was close to the end when the Sparkle name appeared, starting with Winter’s Twilight Sparkle.

Hammer Strike blinked a few times as he read over the name.

Then as Twilight Velvet Sparkle appeared, two other names drew Hammer Strike’s attention immediately. Bellerophon Lulamoon and Solstice Shimmer.

“Oh, that makes things really awkward,” Hammer Strike muttered.

Finally, the last line contained about fifty names listed. It seemed the current generation hadn’t produced any children yet. Much to Hammer Strike’s dismay, Sunset Shimmer and Beatrix Lulamoon, as well as Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor shone prominently at the bottom of the page.

A heavy thunk heralded Trixie’s faint. Twilight’s eye twitched rapidly as her pupils shrank to tiny pin pricks and her body was overtaken by a series of twinges.

Hammer Strike looked up from the list to Trixie, then to Twilight, before settling his attention to Clover. “Interestingly enough, I can see Twilight.”

Clover looked at Twilight carefully, then turned to look at him with a raised brow. “Was I really that neurotic?”

“The bursting into flames part, amusing enough given my affinity.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “If I wanted to go the extra mile, I could mention how you were when we first met.”

“But you won’t,” Clover said in a very ‘end of conversation’ tone.

“Oh, I don’t need to. TARDIS beat me to it, anyway.”

Clover’s eye twitched at that comment.

“She didn’t show all of it,” Hammer Strike chuckled softly. “In any case, though…” He turned his attention to the others in the room.

“Okay,” Vital Spark began as he conjured a pillow to lay under Trixie’s head. “Twilight, I totally called beforehand. Trixie, however…. That one was a bit of a curveball,” he admitted. He chuckled nervously. “So, uh … I guess I’m part of the family now?”

“Yeah, that part makes things awkward.” Hammer Strike frowned in thought.

“Given the fact you’re one of my best friends and also my many-times-great-grandfather-in-law, yes, I’d definitely say so.”

“It’s already weird enough as is, given I’m thousands of years old.”

“We both are,” Clover pointed out.

“This won’t change our relationship as student and teacher/mentor, right?” Vital Spark asked Clover.

“You don’t have to impress me, if that's what you're worried about. You already did that,” Clover promised. However, there is the matter of the dowry,” she teased.

Vital facehoofed. “That’s going to be a headache and a half if Trixie’s folks come around.”

“Last I heard, weren’t they not a part of her life? I know Merasmus … was….” Hammer Strike looked over to the list once again. After some scanning, he found it, the name Merasmus Lulamoon. “Oh, son of a….” He sighed.

“Wasn’t that the crazy explody guy who came for their wedding?” Clover asked.

“Indeed, he was.” Hammer Strike rubbed the back of his head. “Still, not as bad as another one on the list.” He gave a brief shrug.

“Should I be worried about the amount of weirdos and evil people we seem to have unwittingly spawned?” Clover asked.

“Well, we’ve got Sunset on that list, and she’s kinda … stuck in another world at the moment, due to her being evil. Though that part is being dealt with.”

“Have you been keeping tabs on her, somehow?” Vital Spark asked.

“I probably should.” Hammer Strike frowned.

“Well, in case Trixie’s family does decide to drop in….” Clover struck Bellerophon Lulamoon’s name from the parchment with lighting. “We don’t need them in this family.”

“That, I can agree with,” Hammer Strike said. “We’ll have to look out for some other members within the tree, figure out where they all are.”

“I just have one thing to ask,” Vital said. “If they do try to come for Trixie, could you let me deal with them? I have a few things Clover’s taught me that I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to try out on them.” He stared darkly at the patch, then looked back to his mate and smiled. “I’m just glad she turned out all right.”

“I don’t see an issue with that.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Handle it with great force. I don’t want them to return.”

“I’ll see to it,” Vital Spark promised as his horn sparked with energy.

Hammer Strike nodded before turning to Twilight. “Have you returned to the world of the living yet?”

Twilight rubbed her head as she worked to slowly smooth her frazzled mane. “That depends. Does the world of the living include an astral plane where I ended up having a direct talk with Harmony about this and how it tied into my connection with her and the Element of Magic?”

“He did say returned, Twilight,” Vital Spark nudged gently.

“Oh…. Then, yes, I suppose I have. It’s just … a lot to take in. Especially since that makes me wonder whether Shining might be able to ascend, too now.”

“Ex Divinia etiam, I hope not.” Hammer Strike sighed. “We have enough as is.”

“So, uh … who’s going to tell him and Cadence the news?” Vital asked.

Twilight chuckled nervously.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t think about that part,” Hammer Strike muttered. “That’ll make that meeting all the more interesting.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” Clover said. “For now, I think Vital should take Trixie somewhere to recover.”

“I can do that,” Vital said as he lifted Trixie in his magic. Then he furrowed his brow. “Clover, isn’t the phrase supposed to be we’ll burn that bridge when we cross it?”

“No, the original phrase was coined by Brigadier Bridge Burner, a very successful campaign general who was known for cutting off all means of escape before attacking.”

Vital Deadpanned. “I might have known.”

---

Consciousness slowly swam back into focus for Trixie as her eyelids fluttered. She was back in the room she shared with Vital, lying on their bed. “Huh?” she said groggily, looking around the room. “That was a weird dream.”

“Dream nothing. I got to watch the Great and Powerful wife pass out from shock.” Vital chuckled from his place by Aria’s perch, where the cryophoenix was enjoying her evening meal. “I brought dinner up from the mess hall. Figured you might be hungry after you woke up.” He motioned toward his work table, which had been cleared of its scrolls and books in favor of the large tray and platter that held a portion that would give even a Minotaur pause.

Slowly, she got to her hooves. “That was real?” she asked, still a bit dazed.

“Yup. Lady Trixie Lulamoon, it turns out you were a princess all along. You just didn’t know it.” He kissed her gently on the cheek. “You know, I want to say something really sappy and cliche right now, like I always knew you were, but then I’d be a liar, and we both know how much you hate those.” He chuckled, then nuzzled her. “But at least I can say that I’m glad to have gotten to know the real you, and I think that royal or not, you’re always going to be incredible.”

Trixie blushed at his words. “It’s just, I never knew my father's family beyond my grandfather. But I always thought we came from some horrible bloodline that only they could be proud of. Now I find out that I come from a family of Ponies I can never live up to.” She laid her head in her hooves. “It’s like I can’t win.”

“This coming from the mare that saved my life … how many times now? Oh, yes, and the life of her many greats grandmother who wouldn’t even be here today, were it not for you, and you literally earned the respect of your other ultimate progenitor by your actions and hard work here since. I’d call that a lot of wins,” Vital countered.

“Did you not see the names on that family tree?” she asked. “Some of them invented whole branches of magic. At least two of them won a war single-handedly with a game of cards. And Twilight Bucking Sparkle!” Trixie said. “She saved Equestria several times. I went from being the best of the worst to being the worst of the best!”

“Does that really matter if we’re happy? You messed up. You want to beat yourself up over it, judge yourself as harshly as you can, because you think you can never be that good, you can never reach the top of the hill.” Vital shrugged. “And maybe you won’t. I know I never did back home. All I ever did, all I ever could do, was try. It was one thing I learned, and it’s perhaps one of the most important lessons I’ll have taken with me from there. Beating yourself up constantly over your failures won’t make you better or fix your problems. It’ll just make you feel worse. So, I’m going to tell you the same words someone very important to me told me when I needed to hear them most.” He wrapped his hooves gently around her neck and whispered in her ears. “You need to put down the whip, honey.”

“I’m not sure I can,” Trixie admitted. “I’ve spent most of it being judged, by my family, by the people I perform for. We both know Clover judges me.”

“She criticises you, and she does it constructively. There’s a big difference between that and the kind of judgement you’re talking about.” He chuckled. “You should've heard what they had to say about you after you passed out. I don’t think you’d be feeling like this if you knew.”

It was at this moment that a knock sounded from the door. “Given the yelling I heard earlier, I would assume Trixie has gained consciousness again?” Hammer Strike questioned as he entered.

Trixie looked toward Hammer Strike, clearly unsure how to address him.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to figure out a way to address our relationship to each other just yet. I find it complicated, myself. I would recommend keeping it as simple as possible.” Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle. “You appear more lively than when you were in Clover’s classroom.”

“I—” Trixie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?” Hammer Strike raised a brow. “For being a descendant of Clover and myself? If so, I don’t see an issue.”

“How could you not?” she asked.

“You are implying that I have an issue with you, either through some incidents in the past or how you are in your present. Allow me to alleviate you of your concerns. Both myself and Clover do not see any issues with this. Your father, on the other hand … more than a little.”

“I already called dibs on kicking him out if he comes calling,” Vital added. “I’m all for making up, but based on what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like he’s that type.”

“How can you just ignore what I’ve done?” Trixie asked.

“Let me paint a picture for you. Imagine an individual with no history in the world appearing one day. They found themselves a home and slowly expanded it, taking land that was never theirs to begin with. One day, the nearby nations took notice, slowly pushing back against this individual. What did that individual do? The individual pushed harder, gathering outcasts and thieves to build their numbers, and assassins to gather information. The individual gathered more and more until he fought against the nations, beating them and absorbing them under his rule. This individual made deals with devils, the creatures of the night. You name it, they did it. All of this and more, until one day, they had taken over all of the nearby nations, leaving them the center of power in the world.” Hammer Strike looked to Trixie. “Horrible, would you not agree?”

“What kind of horrible person could do all that?” Trixie asked.

“Me. I arrived in a land subjugated by wendigos and took claim over a small chunk of land. I was in a blind spot between the nations of the Earth Ponies, the Unicorns, and the Pegasi. They wanted my land, and I didn’t give it to them. I took in outcasts, thieves, assassins, anyone, and tied them to my will. The only thing that made it sound better was that it was never against their will. I was never the one to start a war, but I finished each and every one. I made deals with devils, gods, vampires, liches. If they existed, I made deals to ensure I could protect everyone. But from the outside … I was a dark lord who made deals with devils, who tied my citizens to my will.” Hammer Strike’s expression softened. “History paints me like a grand hero who has never done wrong, but I can assure you I am only mortal, and I’ve made many mistakes in my life.”

“That's … actually very comforting,” Trixie admitted.

Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “That is why I don’t see anything wrong. You have tried your best to turn your life around, and I won’t be the one to turn you away.”

“I—” Trixie took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Vital Spark hugged her. “Feeling better now?” he asked. “I’d hate to leave this romantic dinner I piled up to go to waste.”

“Yes,“ she said. “Much better. Thank you both.”

“Enjoy your meal, you two. And should any questions come up, you know where to find me.” Hammer Strike gave a nod as he turned to leave.

“Thank you, Hammer Strike. I know you technically already own this place, but … you’re always welcome here. If that makes sense.” Vital chuckled awkwardly.

Hammer Strike gave a soft chuckle, shook his head, and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

---

Hammer Strike stared blankly at the series of notes Grif had collected for him from the Alicorn Empire. While he was unable to gauge what they were about at the time, all he knew was that they involved him. To what extent, he didn’t know.

Now, however, he had called Grif to his office for a particularly important matter.

“Yeah?” Grif asked as he arrived. “Something wrong?”

“You remember those documents I left behind and you collected?” Hammer Strike questioned. “I was correct in thinking they involved me, but … I didn’t anticipate the first result.” He activated the tablet once more and slid it across his desk for Grif to look at. “Familiar?”

Before Grif sat an image of Gilgamesh.

“Why is Gilgamesh on here?” Grif asked. “I mean, the words mean nothing, but that picture is clear.”

“Specimen six, a hybrid of Gryphon and Pony DNA. Group six, subject eight, a Gryphon, in combination with group eight, subject twenty, Pony.” Hammer Strike looked up to Grif. “They were … attempting to create something just as powerful as myself while under their control.”

“So then, Gilgamesh is…?” Grif quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

“By genetics, he is my son, and his mother was a Gryphon captured in the war with the Gryphon empire. The project looks like it was automated, though with varying levels of success.” He read over the notes. “Gilgamesh was part of the automated systems attempts, number sixteen-thousand four-hundred-and-seventy-three.” He frowned. “I honestly stopped reading after seeing Gilgamesh, due to the surprise of it, but I’d rather you be here to discuss this with, rather than running it through my head alone.”

“They wouldn’t have stopped at Gryphons alone,” Grif said. “That's what you're worried about, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Hammer Strike rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly forgot about this. I was told by Tempus about this program, but…” He sighed. “The only result I had heard about as a success was Luna. My genetics were added to her to work against the pre-programmed stuff they were trying to put inside her.”

“Wait, so Luna is actually your daughter?” Grif asked.

“Partially. I wasn’t a full replacement of a genetic origin. I was simply a counter addition,” Hammer Strike attempted to explain. “Technically, I suppose I am a biological father, but so was Tempus. It’s all honestly strange to think about, so I never really thought it through.”

“So how many other attempts did they make? Or did it stop with the success of Gilgamesh?”

“Considering we have a few additional tablets, I’m going with more…” Hammer Strike frowned as he grabbed the next one and activated it. After a few minutes of scanning it over, he frowned. “I swear we’ve seen him before.” He passed it over to Grif. “Recognize him?”

Before Grif was the image of a familiar Minotaur, one that he had interacted with, albeit … briefly.

“Yeah,” Grif said with a menacing growl. “I killed him in Labyrinthian.”

“Ah. That would explain it.” Hammer Strike hummed as he looked over the tablet. “Yeah, moved to the Stampede Grounds after reaching maturity. I suppose this does explain the level of strength he had.”

“Considering how hard that fight was, yeah.” Grif nodded. “Thank god he didn’t have magic like Gilgamesh does.”

“Indeed.” Hammer Strike nodded, grabbing the next tablet. He looked it over before raising a brow. “That’s … interesting. An attempt at altering a Dragon egg, resulting in the egg requiring an abnormal amount of magic to hatch. It was not distributed, but it was removed from its chamber.” He frowned as he continued reading. “By … an Alicorn of white coloration with the mark of the sun.” He blinked a few times. “Egg coloration was purple with spots of darker coloration along with it.”

“Well, that's going to be an awkward conversation with Spike.”

“If we’re positive it is Spike. Though knowing my luck, it probably is.” Hammer Strike frowned as he looked over the other tablets. “Zebra strain, failures so far. Yaks, failure. Kitsunes … unknown?” His frown deepened. “Alicorn, denied by council. Additional tests in question.” He sighed. “Looks like there might be more back at the island. This wasn’t all of the documents.”

“Should we go back and destroy that facility?” Grif asked.

“We’ve already disabled the system, thankfully. Though another visit will be in the future; just not yet.”

“So what happens now? Are you going to tell him?” Grif asked.

“I mean, it would clear up a lot of worries he may have. Everyone thought it was amnesia, but it looks like he … doesn’t have a past. The systems must have survived enough to release him and other subjects at designated points in time at environments that it deemed suitable for them.”

“And while Gilgamesh has never said it, that lack of a past clearly bothers him,” Grif said.

“I’ll have to bring it up the next time I see him. Followed by the next time I see Spike, or Twilight, and then have her bring Spike. I just need to make sure of it before I bring that up, however. Either through Celestia or by scanning him.”

“We’ll have to work it out.” Grif shrugged. “Seems like the kinda thing to handle with kiddy gloves.”

“Yeah…” Hammer Strike sighed. “Yeah.”

---

The room was an absolute mess. Bedding was scattered, pillows thrown in every possible direction. Somehow, a bedpost had made its way into the ceiling without actually breaking any of the stone. The very square nature of the room had been somehow corkscrewed to look almost like a twisting tunnel that shrank with every step toward one end, and one would not be surprised to find that to be the reality if they were to make such an attempt. After all, this was Cheshire. And for Cheshire, the rules rarely applied the same way as they did to others, especially not after the night she’d just had.

The Gryphoness purred contentedly as she nuzzled her mate and reveled in the warmth of his newly restored body. An honest-to-gods body! In all her wildest dreams, she never thought she would be allowed to see him again until death finally came for her. Well, after she led it on a merry chase, anyway. Where was the fun in just up and dying, after all?

Kel’leam rumbled gently in turn as his great arms wrapped around her and pulled her close to his chest and torso. “Did you really miss me that much?” he asked.

“Miss doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She sighed contentedly and basked in the afterglow.

“Missus might, though,” he teased as he nuzzled her in turn, then kissed her on the cheek.

“Mmm, so the male can be taught.”

Kel’leam smirked. “Would you like me to show you just how much I’ve learned?”

Cheshire raised a curious brow. “You have more to show after all this?” She motioned to the wreck of a room. “Just what have you been doing in that afterlife of yours?”

Kel’leam chuckled. “Why tell, when I could just show you?” he asked as he rumbled again.

“Ooh, are we going to be watching a puppet show? I love those! Here, let me set the stage!” A flash of light left them blinded for a moment. Then Kel’leam was standing on a wooden stage with strings stretching up out of his hands, paws, tail, and head.

“Discord, I really don’t—” Kel’leam’s beak began to creak as he rose onto his hind legs at the prompting of the strings and began to sing.

Cheshire laughed and clapped as the strings guided her beloved through an impassioned song guided by Discord’s Gryphon hand while the rest of him sat next to her and proffered a box full of fluffy white kernels.

“Popcorn, my dear?”

Cheshire seized the Draconequus by the muzzle and kissed him on the cheek. The music stopped. The strings snapped. And steam blew out Discord’s ears as the missing hand appeared sans the control bar and strings, instead bearing a fan that it waved separately in the air.

“Uncle, you spoil me,” Cheshire said with a broad grin.

“Uncle?” Kel’leam balked as he gazed at the spirit of chaos.

“An affectation, I assure you, Mister Bladefeather.” Discord rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I thought Cheshire would have taught you not to be such a stick in the mud by now. Didn’t you have at least a teensy bit of fun strutting on that stage?”

“Come now, Uncle. Don’t be so hard on him. He only just came back from the dead. You know how they can be a little stiff.” Cheshire smirked.

“Ah, what smooth delivery. Though I prefer devilry, myself. Welcome to the family, Kel’leam!” He laughed and poofed behind the Gryphon to embrace him with a sideling glance. “Oh, I can tell we’re going to be the very best of friends. Chaos get so boring when you don’t have a little harmony to play it off with.” He flicked Kel’leam’s beak, leaving it to wobble and vibrate like a spring, including the sound effect.

“Uncle’s been watching over my family for generations. He’s our guardian spirit, you know.”

Kel’leam frowned as he halted his beak’s vibration in a manner that shook his whole body cartoonishly. “That makes absolutely no sense, whatsoever.”

“Exactly,” Discord said smugly. “Hello! Spirit of chaos?” He curled himself in a spiral and shoved his face into Kel’leams, meeting his upside down head with Kel’leam’s right side up one. “Since when has sense ever been in my nature?”

“But you were imprisoned for over a thousand years!”

Discord waved a dismissive paw. “Oh, that? Please, for someone like me, that was just a little timeout. You wouldn’t believe the number of times my siblings and I had to go to the proverbial corner growing up. Why, we’d spend whole centuries taking turns being punished while the other played freely. Setting laws, exploiting loopholes. You know, the usual sibling rivalry. It was all quite fun, you know.”

“You call corrupting civilizations fun?”

Discord was suddenly much too close for comfort, and a menacing aura surrounded him as the cheerful red orbs hardened into slitted rubies that glowed with the hints of madness. “Now let me set one thing straight with you, nephew mine. Chaos is as chaos does. I am, or at least I used to be, neither inherently good or bad. I existed, and still exist, to push others forward, stretch boundaries, and otherwise encourage growth and change.

“Loopholes can help the downtrodden just as easily as they do the corrupt. One leak can destroy an assassination. One crack can burst a dam. I am a force of nature, little Gryphon, something to be respected. When that respect is forgotten, well, let’s just say there are consequences.” He leered at kel’eam. “As those Alicorns eventually found out firsthoof.” He chortled wickedly. “Ah, there’s nothing so satisfying as watching someone else reap the rewards of the chaos they sow all on their own. I just had to wait. And after they had their way with me, well, I decided I was bored and left them to their demise. But since I was so new to Equestria, well, I lost my bearings. Little Chesh’s ancestors found me and nursed me back to health. They helped me to understand what it means to have a body, to live as you do. That gave me a rather soft spot for your species.” The hardness softened as he stroked Cheshire’s head gently, having aparrated back to her side. “As thanks for their service to me, I gave them a gift, just a little something to show my appreciation. You’ve seen the results for yourself. Tell me, would you call this little bit of chaos evil, Kel’leam?”

“I….” Kel’leam gaped at his wife, then her patron. “I think I might need a drink.”

Discord chuckled as he snapped his fingers, presenting a variety of choices for alcohol from all the regions of the world, including a stein full of powerful dwarven spirits. “Good idea. I always find I have better luck explaining things when people aren’t sober. Then we can tell you how, exactly, I was able to watch over Cheshire and her family while I was still trapped in stone for all those years.” He eyed Kel’leam as the Gryphon took his first swig, and then his smile widened into a grin not unlike Chesh’s when she was about to play with her prey. “Tell me, how knowledgeable are you about temporal mechanics?”

---

“They appeared on our horizon fifteen minutes ago,” Grif explained to Hammer Strike. “They are one of the mercenary groups who refused to join, but aren't necessarily hostile. I have no idea what they want. I only know that they asked to meet you.”

“Quite strange, indeed.” Hammer Strike frowned. “I’ll assume the group is big enough to warrant me going out to them, rather than bring them in here?”

Grif nodded. “Yes. About sixty Gryphons in their current group. My intelligence says they have at least another forty out on jobs.”

Hammer Strike sighed as he placed his quill down and stood from his desk. “All right, then. Let’s see what they want, shall we?”

It didn’t take long for the two to reach the throne room. Hammer Strike sighed once more as he took a seat on his throne. “All right. Bring them in.”

Grif left the room and, a few minutes later, the doors opened wide, revealing a large array of Gryphons of different mixes and sizes. They all wore well-kept but old leather armor and carried a vast array of weapons. Each wore a single blue scarf tied around their left wrist that seemed to stand as the sign of their company.

The one who led them was an older male with the mixture of a jaguar and a merlin for his species. His coloring was faded and showed signs of graying while a patchwork of scars and missing fur showed the evidence of his experience. A large battle axe laid on his back.

“You are Hammer Strike?” he asked carefully. His voice was surprisingly deep. Unlike many Gryphons, the accent it carried held more of a Scandanavian tinge to it.

“Indeed, I am.” Hammer Strike finished a brief scan of the gathering and settled his gaze on the leader. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

“I am Grav’varr,” he said, “the current head of the Order of the Unbreakable. Long have we waited for you to resurface as you are.”

Hammer Strike raised a brow. “You’ve … waited for me?”

Grav’varr nodded as he reached into his bag and produced an ancient piece of parchment. “We all were born in the empire but consider ourselves the spiritual successors of those who lived under your rule. We have safeguarded texts and information long thought to be lost regarding you and your unbreakable will. You, who stood to see the Alicorns’ darkest day, and our own.” He handed over the parchment. When Hammer Strike unrolled it, the drawing was archaic but undeniably a rendering of himself. One which, according to his implants, was several thousand years old.

“Safeguarded it, even from your own?”

“The empire would have destroyed the truer accounts of who you were and what you accomplished. They would paint the Gryphon as just and you as evil. But we know the truth. We know what we did. And we know the mercy you showed us. We also know what happened to the Dragons.”

Hammer Strike looked over the gathering once more. “You even waited for my ‘recollection of self,’” he murmured, then gave a soft smirk. “I’ll be honest. I’m quite impressed, as is.”

“Our ancestors began the traditions we practice today, setting ourselves apart from the empire to practice tenets set by your example. Survive by any means you can. Shelter those who deserve it. Act with reason and be assured of your course of action. And most importantly, keep to your beliefs, even if you must be the villain to do it. Should someone strike you, give them a chance. Should they strike you a second time, set up your guard and be ready, but give them yet another chance. If they attempt to strike you yet again, send them to their gods and let them sort them out. Our beliefs made us unpopular with the people, and we were banished during the reign of the last emperor. We have come to you now seeking to serve as your warriors, if you are willing to bestow us that honor.”

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “To think, I thought many things lost to the tides of time, yet here you all stand before me, carrying the weight of thousands of years upon your mantle.” His smirk widened. “Very well. I accept you all and welcome you to New Unity. Though the years haven’t been kind to it in my absence, it will return to its former splendor once more.”

Grav’varr bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord Hammer Strike. The Unbreakable are at your service and your service alone. We offer our weapons, our skills, and our lives. From this point on, your will is our duty. I swear this on the blood of my forefathers and my descendants.” The crowd behind him repeated the oath in chorus.

Hammer Strike stood from his throne. “Come, then. Let us look into some place of residence for you all.”

---

Grif sat before his desk and stared at the familiar apparatus. True to form, the chamber was kept in shadow, and the communication crystals hummed as he waited for the council members to appear. He checked his notes several times about recent news and current issues. Natural disasters and monster attacks were more adequately handled then ever. Organized crime, however, was starting to present a problem.

“This is the jack, joining the party,” a voice chimed in. “It seems I am the first to arrive at this meeting.”

It didn’t take long for the next to sign in. “This is Ten, ready to deal.”

A few moments later, the third projector activated. “Queen is on the table. Am I late?”

“No, we’re still waiting on the king,” Grif said. Several minutes later, the final panel came online.

“King has been dealt.” a voice spoke up moments later.

“Good. Now we’re all here. Before I go over my end, does the council have any news from their areas to go over?” Grif asked.

“None to share at this time,” Ten expressed.

“Me either,” Jack added.

“There are unusual disturbances in the region of the Crystal Empire,” Queen said. “No one has been hurt, but a distinct change has come over the structures. Some of the Ponies have grown uneasy.”

“Anything dangerous?” Grif asked.

“No, but the royal family can sense it. It’s not the usual magic the empire brings to bear. Whatever it is doesn’t appear to be malevolent just yet, but it is off-putting. I suppose the closest way to describe it is like a forgotten memory. You want to understand it, but it won’t quite show itself.”

“I see…” Grif rubbed his chin. “I’ll see if I can get any information later. For now, keep me posted on anything that happens.”

“Progress on our side is going well,” King spoke up. “Both the military and industrial progress is moving along smoothly. We predict full deployment within the month and a full advertising campaign in time for Hearth’s Warming.”

“That's good to hear, King. I’m sure that will make many kids very happy.” Grif chuckled. “Now, on to official business. I am pleased to report monster attacks and natural disaster damage is currently at an all time low.”

“And our mutual enemy?” Queen asked. A hint of bite had crept into her voice.

“I have not been able to get a lead on him yet. However, my sources are still working on it.” he answered. “There is, however, another issue that needs to be looked into, I fear.”

“And that is?”

“A new head has arisen for the organized crime syndicates in Equestria. We don’t entirely know who he is yet, but he has all the various groups in a stranglehold. According to some interrogation reports, they’ve been unable to stop his rise, and the last seven attempts to assassinate him just failed outright.”

“Against your best?” Queen asked, surprised. “That is concerning.”

“I’ve authorized extra resources. However, I think if it isn’t dealt with soon, I may have to get involved personally,” Grif explained.

“Have you considered utilizing Jack to assist?” Ten asked.

“If it becomes necessary. Though I believe that's best left as a final resort,” Jack stated. “There is always a chance of someone noticing my presence.”

“I’ll do my best to keep things running on my end. Speaking of which, did you have anything in particular that you needed researched, Ace?” Ten asked.

“Not as of yet, but I will keep you posted. Now, is there any other business?” he asked.

“I have nothing more to report at the moment,” Ten said.

“Not at this time,” Queen said.

“Everything is clear,” Jack agreed.

“We are fine.” King added.

“Very well. You’ll receive plans for the next meeting in due time. For now, I have orders to dole out. Until next time.” With that, Grif hit the switch, turning off the communicator. He took a few minutes to collect himself before switching out the blue crystals for the green and beginning the next communication.

---

The flash of curved steel was complemented by the great whirling of broad hooves as the Horses of Saddle Arabia worked with their curved sabers to spear, hook, jab, slice, and otherwise dance around the training dummies to do battle with their makeshift adversaries. Akhmed stared grimly at his unit as they continued to fight. Many had danced this dance for years. The sultan would expect nothing less of the force sent to pay the debt of their family to the great Djinn of Fire. But even old hands could grow clumsy without the application of practice. And with the number of other troops and races present, they knew they would need to perform at their very best, especially with that shapeshifting she-witch of the wastes.

“Put your backs into it!” Akhmed shouted. “Show them the pride of the desert!” He easily tore a shield from its dummy’s grip and sliced through the wood where a joint for a hand or hoof would have been.

Blast and Tower Shield were used to unusual figures in New Unity. The eclectic nature of the city’s growing population had made them used to most things, or so they believed, until they found themselves leading the massive Gryphon that had recently sworn his loyalty to Hammer Strike around and showing him the fortress and the grounds.

“Akhmed is the leader of our lord's Horse cavaliers,” Blast explained.

“They handle rapid strikes in the enemy formations from the flank or the back if they can,” Tower added.

“I see.” Grav’var nodded. “It is very impressive, keep your enemy on his toes.”

“That's generally how it works.” Blast nodded. “The general forces are split into three groups, each overseen by a different head. Grif keeps his group particularly well exercised.” He chuckled.

“Whether they like it or not,” Tower added, smirking.

“That is the leader of the Gryphon clan, yes?” Grav’var clarified. “Those Bladefeathers?”

“Yes. Grif leads the Bladefeathers, but has also attached himself fully to his Rohirrim, as he calls them. He hopes to make them into ideal shock troops.”

“The records hold stories about the mass of species Hammer Strike managed to bring together, but to see it in person is strange. A good strange, though.” The Gryphon laughed. “So, all three of these groups answer to you, and you answer to Hammer Strike?”

“That's correct,” Tower Shield said. “However, the Thestrals and the Bladefeathers answer to their own individual heads that answer to Hammer Strike directly. Also, the mage corps is pretty much entirely run by Clover, who … technically answers to Hammer Strike?”

“Technically?” Grav’var asked.

“Well, we’ve never seen him actually give her direct orders. He just kind of trusts her to act accordingly. He does that with a lot of people, actually.” Blast laughed.

“The records mentioned this Clover before. It does seem best to leave her to her devices.” Grav’var nodded. “Then I and my forces shall take the vanguard, the strong frontal line, to break the enemy's confidence,” he declared.

“We know someone you probably will want to meet, then.” Tower laughed. “Come on.”

The ring of heavy blows and splintering wood rang through the air as a cluster of training dummies were dispatched one by one with brutal efficiency. The great brute’s broad black shoulders shone with the lather of a proper session, and his hammer sang while the rooty tendrils that composed his mane curled into a knot behind him to keep from getting in the way. He bellowed as he finished crushing the last one to the ground, then turned to face the newcomers with a broad bovine grin.

“Blast, Tower!” he greeted effusively. “What brings you here?” His gaze fell on the Gryphon. “And who’s your guest?”

The large Gryphon stiffened a bit as he looked at Big Guns.

“This is Grav’var. He’s a mercenary captain working for Hammer Strike,” Blast explained.

“I thought the mercenaries worked for Grif,” Big Guns noted as his brow knit in confusion.

“There were a few groups who refused to join him. According to our briefing, Grav’var here is from one of those groups,” Tower added.

Big Guns thrust out his massive open hand. “Then that’ll make us partners of a sort.” He chuckled. “Welcome to the herd. The name’s Big Guns.”

The Gryphon slowly offered his talons. “Grav’var, leader of the Order of the Unbreakable.”

“You going to be staying with us long?” Big Guns asked as he shook the Gryphon’s hand.

“My group is currently on extended contract. So barring any surprises, yes.”

Big Guns grinned. “Good. I haven’t had the chance to spar with many Gryphons yet. Most of my training was with Iron Will after Thalia rescued me. It’ll be nice to learn some new combat styles.”

“Grav’var has decided to take up the vanguard,” Blast explained. “The front line combatants.”

Big Guns’ tail twitched. “You mean that you’ll get to smash all those big troops?”

“We’ll break whatever lines are put before us,” Grav’var stated proudly. “We are the unbreakable.”

An indecipherable bellow was soon followed by, “I’m so jealous. They wouldn’t let me join the main fights before. I mean, I was still learning how to fight, so I guess I get why, but, well, I’m kind of a Minotaur. We want to fight….” A heavy blush rose in the bull’s cheeks, something the Gryphon had never seen before in the species.

Grav’vars face broke into a small smile. “After we’ve settled in, come and see me. We’ll see just what you're capable of.”

Big Guns grinned. “And maybe I’ll get to see what you are, too.”

---

The tavern-like structure stretched up into two floors. Inside, the atmosphere was close-knit, designed for an intimate setting. The booths were a dark red, and an old-fashioned counter stretched to divide a small kitchen and a vast collection of coffee beans that lay within a series of glass jars on the shelves. A set of stairs on the far end led out of sight to the loft above, where the owner probably had his living quarters. The scent of rich spices and roasted coffee grounds blended together in a harmonious symphony of smells that tickled the palate and incited a desire for more.

At the moment, two Thestrals sat staring across a table at each other. One was white with a blond mane, the other a deep blue with a bright white mane. Two cups sat before them, one with rich dark coffee, the other with tea steaming in front of them. Night Terror stirred her coffee slowly, watching the clouds of cream blend into the coffee to help cut the bitterness down like a fortune teller seeking the future.

“Thank you,” she finally started, “for taking me here.” She looked guiltily to the side. “I just … needed something different than the classes and the hunts. I want to learn about my family’s past and how it’s a part of me, but I don’t want to make it all of me.”

“That makes sense.” Pensword nodded gravely. “We are the sum of both our parents and both our pasts. I am … sorry that we neglected this side of your culture.” He sighed. “I suppose my age is showing a little.”

A hint of a smile pulled at Night Terror’s lips. “You still have better manners than most of the nobles I’ve served. You actually take the time to listen to me.”

“And that is from how I was raised.” A brief moment of sorrow passed his eyes, “And how I was trained. A poor commander is one who won’t take in all sides.” He shook his mane and nickered uncomfortably. “But we are not here to talk about war or training. I am here to court you, and to give you some advice so you don’t go sending any other Thestral stallions the wrong message.” A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

Night Terror groaned. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“We all have things like that in our lives. All we can do is take it, own it, and laugh about it.”

“And dare I ask for one of yours?”

Pensword leaned back and slowly sipped his tea, as he pondered the request. “When I was a foal, a few Ponies joked they’d never bring me into a forest again because every time I joined them, we would always encounter a bear.” He chuckled. “It became a sort of family tradition.”

“I … don’t exactly see how that’s supposed to be embarrassing, but I suppose we each have our own triggers,” the mare mused. Then she sighed again. “Do you really think we’ll be able to make this work, Pensword? I mean, really work. I know tradition demands it, but … do you really think we’ll be able to fall in love?”

“Regarding the first part of your response, try hearing the same thing over and over again. It gets old fast. As for the other stories, they’re not for polite public discourse. And for making this work? We have five years. If you or I feel it isn’t working after that, and giving birth to a foal, we can divorce. It is rarely invoked, but it is an option, should you feel the need to take it.”

“I have to get pregnant?”

“Well, that does usually happen after marriage.” Pensword smiled gently, finding it a little humorous his human memories left him feeling somewhat squeamish about it. “But the foal is going to be yours, no matter what happens. You’ll be able to raise him or her as you see fit, and I would make sure you both are taken care of, in the event that you want to end things.”

“Promise not to push it?” she asked.

“You have my word.” Pensword took another sip of tea as the brown Pony that ran the establishment placed two extra large bowls in front of them, both laden with extra chunks of meat and sauce.

“Sounds like you two have some journey ahead,” the stallion remarked with a soft smirk before moving back to his spot behind the counter.

“Here’s hoping it’s a good one,” Night Terror said, then took an experimental bite of the dish. Her eyes widened in surprise as her pupils narrowed to slits. “Oh my goddess,” she swore.

Pensword chuckled as he stabbed his fork in for a bite of his own. When he finally consumed it, his eyes widened as he slowly chewed and savored the flavor. “This reminds me of my first meal in modern day Equestria.”

Night Terror raised a skeptical brow. “You had curry for your first meal?”

“The flavor, just … how alive it all felt. I knew I had good food in the field, but it felt like another world, almost, if you catch my meaning.”

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to show me some of those old dishes,” she said. “I bet we don’t have nearly so many of those recipes here. Perhaps … we could make it a date night?”

“If you don’t mind sharing with Lunar Fang and Fox Feather.”

“And Moon River?”

“She’ll be either with Uncle Grif, Uncle Vital, or Uncle Strike.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be fully relaxed, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Of course. I can understand. I’ll show you where the recipe file is when we get back to the castle, so you can look through it for something you might like to try.”

Night Terror smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

---

Luna sat in a simple stone chair in the center of the room. High above them, the full moon shone brightly, though none of them could see it under the thick stone ceiling of the cavern. Luna sat in her ursa bone armor, sans helmet, with a cape made from the shed fur of her ursa minor, who sat sleeping outside the cavern’s hidden entrance. She was every inch a barbarian queen. Her war hammer rested between her hooves with the head against the ground. All around her, the chieftains arranged themselves in preparation for the coming discussion.

Pensword sat at one of the guest spots under the Bear Tribe’s banner. The symbol of his clan had been planted among the other honorary banners that each of the clans had gained as a result of their ascension to noble status under Equestrian law. A sheaf of papers laid by his side awaiting presentation on the settlement’s progress and development ranging from integration to economy and more. Another Thestral from Dream City waited at his side with her own report to present to the council.

“Here’s the projections for construction, mining, shipping, and maintenance costs. The list of qualified technicians should be ready to arrive in New Unity within the week, along with any remaining surveys and data.”

Pensword smiled and nodded as he looked over the papers. After all this time, it was finally starting to come together. This would be a boon for Thestral Industries, assuming he could get enough backing to launch the venture properly.

The seven chieftains each laid their tomahawks before the throne in a circle and bowed their heads in respect toward their ruler. With a mighty ring, Luna knocked her hammer against the cave floor three times. The High Chieftess had called for their attention, and they would listen, as was their duty.

“Good evening, my faithful warriors,” Luna said, acknowledging them. “Before we begin anything else tonight, I feel there is an important matter that must be attended to.”

“You have our ears and our oaths, as always, Chieftess,” the Wolf Clan chieftain said with the bow of his head. The great wolf pelt that he wore left him looking more like the creature his people revered than the Thestral warrior he was, but the wisdom of that beast shone in his golden gaze.

“It isn’t me who requires them,” Luna commented. “Lord Hammer Strike, I surrender the floor to you.”

Hammer Strike proceeded to step forward into the room. As he passed from shadow into light, the typical deep blue and gold along his coat rippled, and like sunset giving way to night, the galaxies formed to reveal the fur of the Ursa Supremus. On his back was Astral Abyss. “It’s been awhile since I had to do something like this.” He gave a brief chuckle. “Given that I have returned, I believed it best to reacquaint myself with how things have progressed in my absence.”

The chamber rang with the gasps that escaped as one body from the gathering at the sight of the coat. The chieftains themselves gaped not only at the jacket, but the great weapon that laid upon Hammer Strike’s back, and the seven black tokens symbolic of the debt a tribe owed.

“What … is that?” the Viper chief finally managed to ask. Her form was lithe, and a series of scale markings had been intricately tattooed around her eyes as she pointed a trembling hoof at the coat.

“My coat, having been added onto with the fur of the only Ursa Supremus to exist,” Hammer Strike replied simply. “Followed by,” he reached up, taking the greatsword off his back before planting it into the ground in front of him, ensuring the tokens were visible. “My authority.”

The cave filled with the babbling rush of whispers that reverberated over and over as those who were present in the cave to witness the meeting spoke among themselves. At last, the lion’s roar reverberated through the chamber, and the chief then turned his gaze on Luna. “Chieftess, please, explain.”

“What is to be explained?” she asked. “He has the coat and the sword made from the bone of the fallen god. He is the original bearer of the great bear. What confuses you?”

“His drastic change, for one. There can be little doubt what he wields. There is only one sword to ever bear our tokens thus. But how did he come to be as he now is? And .. where does that leave our people now?”

“To explain the drastic change,” Hammer Strike spoke up, “the simplest way I can put it is that I was scattered about time. I was always around when needed, but it was never the end result of myself. I left behind this blade in a space where, even if found, it couldn’t be removed. The weight of this blade alone is too much for even my daughters to wield.” He couldn’t help but give a small smirk. “Though, they doubtless tried.”

Luna refused to meet his gaze. He could tell she was blushing.

Pensword was still trying to wrap his head around it. Though he knew Hammer Strike to be their first true High Chief, the one to unite their people as never before, the sight of the legendary sword that had forged that unity and commanded their respect even now left him giddy.

“Then it is clear to me that we have our path laid for us,” the Bear chief said as she knelt toward Hammer Strike. “You hold the right, and you claim what is your own. What would you have of your people, High Chief Hammer Strike?”

“Much like I said in the past, I would not have any drastic changes come to pass, unless it is for the betterment of my people. For now, I have much to reclaim and work on, so I will still leave my daughter to watch over and assist where needed.” He sighed. “But I do come with more than just the task of taking my position back. I come with a name, a name long forgotten due to faith being placed within the Ursa Supremus, the ‘fallen god,’ as some have put it. I come with the name of the goddess who created Thestrals.”

The whole of the cavern drew its breath as one body and held it in a mixture of shock, disbelief, and anticipation. Pensword’s wings flung wide as his body vibrated with excitement. It took everything he had to bite back the squeal that threatened to creep from his throat.

“That name has not been spoken since the age of Fog,” the Fox chieftain said. “You have spoken with her?”

“Indeed. Though she’s significantly weakened, due to her name having been lost to time.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Let it be known, and ensure it is spread. The goddess watching over and waiting, her name is Bonnie.”

The room was silent but all felt a chill run up their spines as the power behind the name became palpable.

“I would recommend it not be lost to time, nor false god, again.” Hammer Strike looked over those gathered. “She wasn’t happy about that one.”

“We’ll … have to do our best to ensure it doesn’t, then,” the Manticore chieftess spoke.

“Unless there is more important business, perhaps we should adjourn early, so this news can be spread?” Luna suggested.

“If there is nothing of importance, then I would agree with that.” Hammer Strike took one last glance over all gathered. With the majority remaining silent, he nodded. “Then let this meeting come to a close. Should anything require my attention, you may direct them to Luna or find me in New Unity,” he commented before removing his blade and turning toward the exit.

“Were the theatrics necessary?” a familiar voice asked.

Hammer Strike glanced at Bonnie and scanned around the room as he moved. “Of course. A proper buildup is always needed for major news. Otherwise, it would be taken with less severity. I’ll assume this is already helping?”

“I’m feeling much better already, yes.” Her body was far less faded, and she looked more energetic than she had last time.

“Good. It should only get better as time goes on.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “Two objectives covered in one meeting, though the concept feels slightly amusing.”

“Considering how most meetings among morals seem to get two less tasks accomplished in more than triple the time, that's not surprising.”

“I mean more the sense of this. By technicality, you are their creator, and here I am, leading them and restoring your name to them.”

“My daughter created them first, and look how that turned out.”

“In the end, this whole situation is amusing and strange at the same time. Though, oddly enough, not unpleasant.”

“What do you mean?”

“While I find the nature of meeting between myself and gods an absolutely dreadful experience, meetings with you don’t feel that way. Even with Faust, I admittedly have my anxieties, though that may be partially tied to the whole Dragon incident. Slephnir, in all honesty, terrifies me due to his presence alone against me. But while you have your share of power, my feelings of anxiety are diminished.”

“Honesty, I find, can make communication far easier. I do not play games with you as Sleipnir does. Perhaps that is the difference?”

“That probably would be it.” Hammer Strike hummed in thought. “You’re drastically more direct in what you mean, and don’t remark facts about having to potentially kill me.”

“What is the purpose of the threat? I know I can kill you. You know I can kill you. Reminding you of it seems more of a hindrance than a help.” She shrugged. “Sleipnir takes too much after his mother.”

Hammer Strike took a moment as he thought it over. “That would be … Loki. Interesting enough, wouldn’t it?”

Bonnie laughed. “Yes, and he finds the subject so awkward he freezes up every time someone mentions it,” she told him with a wink.

“I’ll keep that in mind, and at the same time, question if I’ll ever need to know that.”

“You never know when you’ll need him to shut up,” she said. “But either way, I need to go.”

“Enjoy the newfound faith.” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“Thank you,” were her last words before vanishing.

---

The reception hall in the inn was decked in navy-blue banners trimmed with silver as various portrayals of the moon in all its forms and phases hung from the rafters. Trophies had been mounted on each of the walls in the form of deer, boars, a bear, and other displays such as ceremonial weapons designed for decoration but equally functional for combat in a pinch. Enchanted lanterns bobbed with blue flames that cast light over the otherwise darkened room. As an added precaution, the blinds over the windows remained closed to prevent any prying eyes from peering through to the event that was to follow.

Pensword sat at the head table while young Cristo stood at the ready by a slide projector to do his part. So far, only the single Gryphon and the Thestral representatives from Dream City were present. Filthy Rich arrived shortly afterward. Now it was a matter of waiting for the other potential investors to arrive.

A familiar gray Unicorn mare with a white-and-purple-streaked mane peeked her head through the door. A set of pearls curled around her neck as she stepped hesitantly into the room. “Am I late? Did I miss it?”

“You’re early, actually,” Pensword answered as he walked up to the mare. “A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Velvet.

“And you, Pensword. Twilight’s told me a lot about the goings on in New Unity. I’m glad to hear things have been going so well over there.”

“Indeed,” Pensword agreed. “I’m hoping to bring some of that prosperity to other parts of Equestria as well.” He used a wing to indicate a nearby table, where a series of sandwiches and other treats had been set up for the guests. “Please, enjoy some of the snacks and settle in.”

Twilight Velvet nodded. “I’m looking forward to the presentation.” And then she was gone to join Filthy by the table for a proper discussion.

“I say, now isn’t this an adventure?” The tone of voice was unmistakable, though the green stallion from whose mouth it emanated was most certainly not the Fancy Pants Pensword remembered. A few moments later, the glamour over his body wavered to reveal the familiar bright white coat and carefully coiffed blue mane. His suit was freshly tailored, and his trademark monocle sat on its perch over his left eye as he took in the sight of the room.

"Bonjour, mes ami,” the tall stunning Unicorn that was Fleur greeted, smiling widely at everyone.

Pensword smiled and warmly welcomed both of them to the meeting, then guided them to the tables where they could socialize and pick their seats. Among the other investors, the Oranges had come all the way from Manehattan. A number of sundry nobles among the Pegasi and Unicorns also arrived, each bearing their invitations. In total, the small group numbered at fourteen. But what they lacked in numbers, they more than made up for in the quality of the entities present, both for their social standing and the financial means at their disposal.

Pensword let the group chat among themselves for about ten Minutes as tea and coffee was set out and they got settled back in with their drinks. Finally, the stallion looked over at Cristo and nodded. Cristo acted immediately, standing up and placing folders in front of every seat. Pensword smiled as he triggered the magic in the room to dim and brighten the lights, causing the investors to take their seats and open the folders

“As some of you have already been told, what I am about to show you here is something that cannot leave the room. What you see is a boilerplate NDA, with a few tweaks from Princess Luna to prevent even dreams about this meeting. If you wouldn’t mind signing.”

The group signed casually, a fair indication that these kinds of proceedings were not unknown to them. He waited for the last scrawl of the pens to finish before dimming the lights to the proper level.

“Once again, I welcome you all to this gathering. Now that we’ve had the chance to get to know one another and partake in refreshments, it’s time we get to the main event. I know you all have busy schedules, and I would hate to keep you waiting any longer than absolutely necessary. So, without further ado, let’s begin.” He nodded to his adopted son, who placed the first slide into the projector to reveal a picture of the Canterlot railway stretching in a line from a great height.

“Just to let you all know, every one of you here share something in common already.” Certain members of the gathering murmured between the colleagues they were already familiar with. “You all deal with transporting goods that are time sensitive. From oranges and other citrus.” He nodded toward the Oranges. “To ice.” He nodded at a Pegasus on the other end of the table. “And a multitude of other perishable goods.” He nodded at Cristo, who put in the next slide, revealing a chart portraying the statistical facts behind standard rail travel ranging from loading time to transportation to efficiency and percentage of preservation.

“This is the essential Canterlot to Baltimare line with a refuel in Ponyville and track change from narrow gauge to standard gauge. That is time. And it is one reason why Ponyville gets so many goods from Canterlot so readily. While the town is small, it is the staging grounds in a vital operation.”

The next three slides showed the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria. The fourth showed an artist's rendering of them docked in the custom docks the Thestrals were expanding to accommodate the vessels in the commercial district of Dream City, followed by the docks at New Unity. “I am offering you a small slice of a new company that will utilize Gryphon airships for purposes of transportation. While I do not have access to the technology itself, I do have access to the ships, and thus their speed. As you all know, Blue Skies Transportation, a company owned by a cadet branch of House Blueblood, has a large scale chunk of the airship transport contracts in Equestria. As some of you may be aware, the cargo holds of their largest cargo ship, the Royal Sunset, can carry about six tons of goods.” Pensword smiled as he moved on to one of the key points in the presentation. “The Nina, my smallest vessel, can carry up to eleven tons of extra cargo outside of the supplies needed to run the ship. The Pinta can carry fourteen tons, and the Santa Maria can carry eighteen tons. With these three airships, we can carry more cargo than half of the Blue Skies fleet combined. And with greater speed of delivery combined with the efficiency of travel, you have the makings of a powerful competitor. Unlike the balloons, it won’t rely on Unicorn magic or Pegasus weather manipulation to reach its destination.”

Cristo transitioned the slide to an artist’s rendition of the cargo holds while Pensword continued his pitch.

“Each of these ships include one refrigeration section meant for soldier rations that can be converted for eggs, milk, chese, oranges, ice, ice cream, and other things needed to be kept at a chilly temperature. These Gryphon ships were designed to carry souls and supplies for campaigns that we currently do not need. Of course, if times of war should come, and Equestria require my ships’ services, we will implement a rotating recall to avoid causing disruption of supply chains.”

He smiled as the next slide came into view. “As for anti-pirate protections, as many foals and some grownups have cried out, the threat of air pirates may rise. I am proud to report that all three vessels can boast the latest in anti piracy techniques and technology. The Santa Maria already withstood a full-scale swarm from Chrysalis without crashing or even being breeched. With us, the safe and efficient transport of goods, both yours and others, is guaranteed to hold to a higher standard than Blue Skies could ever hope to offer.”

The audience laughed, and Pensword turned to see Cristo had added his own image here, a somewhat crude drawing of the Santa Maria shooting down an Equestrian air pirate ship.

Pensword smiled as he turned to face the investors. “Seeing as this venture is designed to grant the fondest wish of individuals such as yourselves, we have decided to name our corporation Shooting Star Express.” The lights came up as the projector shut down, and he nodded toward the crowd. “It is my sincere hope that you will have found merit in this proposition, and that you would be willing to join with me in this venture. Now that the primary presentation is complete, I would dedicate the remainder of our time to open the floor for any questions you all might have for me.”

“You mention efficiency and cargo capacity, but you said nothing about potential costs,” Filthy noted. “Just how much money are we talking about investing here?” the Earth Pony asked.

“That all depends on how much you wish to invest. The total project will cost about twenty-eight million bits. This includes the cost of buying space to build or renovate a Gryphon-sized dock here in Canterlot; rent said docks for our private use from Canterlot, Dream City, and New Unity; pay the cost of maintenance performed by qualified technicians; and ensure that crew and others are properly compensated for their time and services. There are also plans to incorporate more effective cargo hatches, and there is potential for the construction of a fourth airship. It all depends on the capital.”

“And the time it would take to turn a proper profit?”

“Based on a worst case scenario economy, three years to break even. Four to really start seeing a profit.”

“What sort of security are you offering?” The Bladefeather rep asked.

“For the first two years, we intend to use either non-Bladefeather Gryphons or Thestral warriors, with my adopted Gryphon children guarding the guts of the ship. Rest assured that while I call them children, each has proven themselves time and again in active combat against Changelings, a coup attempt, and other opposition. They are well seasoned, well qualified, and have earned the title of warrior.” He smiled. “As for investment security, the collateral will be a gem mine to the north of Dream City under House Pen’s management. If this venture fails, the investors will get equal shares, with house Pen keeping only five percent to be used to pay for maintenance and upkeep.”

“And I assume this mine is prosperous?” Fancy Pants asked. “Around how much output does this mine of yours demonstrate?”

Pensword looked at the group. “Please keep in mind that this information is considered sensitive, and is protected under the Non Disclosure document you all signed. This is a Dragon Class mine, capable of producing gems fit for Dragon consumption and mid-tier magical potential at a minimum. The latest excavations indicate we’ve only begun to scratch the surface of the mine’s potential. Current projections based on outside scans and expert surveyance reveal that even if production were to double, there would be enough raw material to last for another hundred years at least.” He smiled. “And if we were to bring in gem and rock farmers on a consultancy basis, that estimate can easily be extended.”

“So, this stake would ultimately yield profitability that could easily last into the next generation,” Fancy pants mused. “A tempting offer, indeed.”

“And have you already laid out the groundwork for these technicians?” Fleur asked. “I cannot speak for the others, but I, for one, would prefer to know the reliability of whomever we rely on to service the vessels in this venture. If we are to invest, it is only fair that we have a say in which technicians we ultimately settle upon, non?”

“Our choices are severely limited at the moment,” Pensword answered. “Gryphons guard their technology zealously, and they do not take kindly to others owning it. I intend to make some inquiries with the organization the Bladefeather Clan has called upon. If they can handle a ship as large as the Gantrithor, I have every confidence that they will be able to service our ships just as easily, and more importantly efficiently.”

“And do you have a representative to speak with these technicians on your behalf?” Twilight Velvet asked. “Given your unique history, I would assume there is a certain amount of bias that would be involved, were you to handle the negotiations yourself.”

Pensword nodded. “Yes, I do. To protect the individual, I will not be naming him or her here at this meeting.”

“Do you at least have a resume that you can share with us?”

“In the packets that were included with your folders. Dates and names have been restricted, again to protect identity. However, you have my word of honor as a duke and a loyal subject of Equestria that each of these events has been properly reviewed and verified prior to this presentation.”

“You mentioned that they can boast the best defensive measures,” Money Bags noted. “Does this mean our money will also be going toward purchasing and mounting weaponry for these vessels, as well as the implicit requirement of paying to stock munitions?”

“We are arming them to the letter of the law to protect against pirate raids. Since these ships are already outfitted with Gryphon Weapons, it’s not so much a matter of finding new weapons as it is a matter of toning down our current firepower. They will maintain the ability to be converted back and forth between military grade and civilian grade as necessary, in case of invasion. As for stocking munitions and the like, Clan Pen will be handling weapon upgrades and utilities as needed, as well as keeping munitions stocked. You need only focus on paying for the civilian parts of this venture.”

“So, you didn’t come here expecting us to shovel out twenty eight million bits right now. How much are you looking to get now, and what share value is it worth to you?” the Bladefeather rep asked.

“Two and a half million spread amongst you all, with a proportion of what you donate equaling a percentage of combined ownership equaling up to 45% of the company’s worth.

Gladmane, an Earth Pony from Las Pegasus with a tall pompadour and a sparkling cape with a custom suit, had been sitting silently this entire time. Now he seemed put off. “You want to keep the business to yourself? Why not let it go to the ones that put the most investment in and hard work?”

Pensword stared flatly at the Pony. “Because in the past, behavior, especially with some of the nobles, leaned toward stripping businesses from their rightful owners and phasing Thestrals out. I’ve consulted with many Thestrals who’ve experienced this treatment in the modern day as well. This venture is not just for myself or my clan. It’s designed to help show that Thestrals are able to thrive on their own without needing charity or a guiding hoof.”

Gladmane shook his head. “That seems pretty biased, friend. Not very good business sense.”

“To you, maybe not. But I want to show that Thestrals have the means to show they can run businesses well. Do you know how many Thestrals own or run large businesses?”

“No, I can’t say that I do,” Gladmane admitted.

Pensword smiled as he looked to the rest of the group. “Anypony here? Does anypony happen to know this answer?”

The room was silent.

“Then I would encourage you to research the topic as you consider the offer. Regardless, the offering will remain the same. Please, let me know how many shares you wish to purchase when you send your final answer. You’ll find the individual value of each share listed in the paperwork.”

“Well, then,” the Bladefeather representative said, “I will take this before the council and make my suggestions. You’ll receive an offer from our end in a standard business week.”

“And you’ll be hearing from us after we have the time to review our options,” Fancy Pants promised. “Though it may take us longer than a business week with our recent schedules. Out of curiosity, how long will this offering remain open before we miss the window of opportunity?”

“Two business weeks. If I don’t hear from you by then, I will assume you’re not interested and move on.” He peered around the gathering one more time, then nodded. “With that being said, I believe we’re at the point for adjournment. Thank you, everypony, for coming. I look forward to hearing from you in the near future. If you’re of a mind, feel free to stay and socialize before you depart.” With that, he bowed and began to collect the disclosure agreements.

---

Though it took longer than he would have hoped for, Hammer Strike was put at ease when everything was finally prepared for Anderson’s funeral. The priest was prepared, the body dealt with, and everything was in order. It would be a small service, but it was the least they could do for the Gryphon.

Yharon, Celestia, Luna, Clover, Binding, Towering Wall, Swift Wings, Lord, Rem, Ram, Tarefson, Ainz, and Cayde all stood around the casket, where the Gryphon was positioned in peaceful repose. The blood had been cleansed, the sword removed, and the warrior was garbed in a newly repaired white robe. For all intents and purposes, it seemed as though he were merely sleeping. Harmony looked on from her place next to Hammer Strike as the group gathered to mourn the loss of one of their own, who had weathered the centuries with them and never once complained about his age. He badmouthed and cursed a lot of other things, but that was his nature, and it was something they would never have asked him to change.

Father Ivory Chalice was a Unicorn stallion who’d been hired from a small town ten miles east of Ponyville. He’d been paid a hefty sum by Hammer Strike to come out here for the service. He was in his later years with a graying white coat and a light brown mane. He wore a simple white robe of sturdy material that covered his frame entirely. Standing beside the body of Anderson, he levitated an old dusty tome bound in red leather with gold filigree on the front, back, and spine, then carefully opened it in front of him.

“For it is better to die defending the Mother’s great name than to have lived for eternity suffering her besmirchment,” he read in a careful even tone. “We are gathered here to say goodbye to Father Alexander Anderson, a Gryphon who returned to the Great Mother's grace and vehemently sought to spread it to others and to shield them. I did not know Father Anderson, though I feel that his example is one that all of us of the cloth could stand to learn from. He suffered much before finding his calling. And in the process of a duty he felt his own, he suffered many more hardships. In the name of Faust he helped the needy and the downtrodden. And in her name, he slayed the zombie, the ghoul, and the vampire. He gave his life protecting the hallowed ground of the cathedral he called his own. May he find his reward sweet and fulfilling. Let us observe a few moments of silence in honor of him.”

The attendants each bowed their heads. For some, tears watered their eyes. Others watered the ground. Others still retained a staunch silence. Even Tarefson, the undead who took such great pleasure exchanging barbs with Anderson and pushing the priest’s buttons, was strangely respectful to the point of almost being reverent.

The remainder of the service was a simple one. The Gryphon was interred in the shadow of the building he had called his home. The edifice would be a reminder to all that visited not only of the great goddess to whom it was dedicated, but also to the Gryphon who had helped to build it so very long ago. Hammer Strike had spared no expense, and the gravestone that marked the plot where the Gryphon was buried would remain untouched by the wear and tear of the elements. It was the least that could be done for one who had sacrificed so much for the sake of Hammer Strike’s people.

Although no one else could see them, three figures watched on from a distance. Hammer Strike gave a small nod to acknowledge their presence.

They each acknowledged him in turn, Faust and Bonnie looking sadly at him while Sleipnir looked stoic.

“Is something the matter, Father?” Yharon asked of the stallion.

“Acknowledging the presence of Sleipnir, Bonnie, and Faust,” Hammer Strike replied softly. “An interesting turn of events for all three to be here…”

“How do you see that?” Bonnie's voice cut in.

Hammer Strike hummed questioningly in response.

“We all had our own attachments to him,” Bonnie noted.

“The fact that you are all three here at the same time, is what I meant.” Hammer Strike replied. “As you’ve all notably kept your distance.”

Faust smiled sadly at the grave. “It is a pity that he had to leave his body in the way that he did, but I can assure you he is living well in his reward.”

“That’s good.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile.

“Still say he should have embraced that blessing,” Slephnir said. “He could have done a lot of great things.”

“Given the circumstances, he made the right choice, Father, and you know it,” Faust said testily.

“Maybe, but right is subjective.” Sleipnir shrugged.

“Oh leave it alone, Sleipnir. You don’t get to pout just because some mortal you blessed turned against you,” Bonnie chastised.

“To be fair, he never worshiped Sleipnir to begin with,” Hammer Strike muttered.

Bonnie gave Hammer Strike a smile as Slephnir stared daggers at him.

“I thought you liked Hammer Strike, Father,” Faust teased. “Why the sudden change?”

“I liked Anderson, too. I still found him grating at times,” Sleipnir commented dryly.

Yharon stared with some interest, completely oblivious to what was happening, save for his father’s occasional shift in glance to watch whichever deity was speaking. “How curious,” he mused softly.

“I’m glad Bahamut managed to save that one,” Bonnie said. “I miss the feathered Dragons. They had such a neat view of the world.”

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but give a small smile at the remark to Yharon.

“Dare I ask, or is it best I don’t know what you’re smiling about?” Yharon asked

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Do you need some time alone with your guests?” he asked politely.

“It’s fine, so long as they don’t interrupt the service. Which I doubt they would.”

Bonnie and Faust, in a unison that showed a family resemblance that had been lacking in Hammer Strike’s experience, glared at Sleipnir.

“What?” Sleipnir asked with a surprised look. “I wasn't planning anything.”

“Famous last words,” Faust noted darkly.

“Quite the family dynamic,” Hammer Strike commented softly as he directed his attention forward once more.

---

Hammer Strike sat in his office, having wrapped up on the paperwork he had to catch up on since his ‘departure’ to the island and back. He knew his meeting with Faust would eventually happen, though he was never given an estimate on when. Given the funeral was dealt with earlier in the day however, he anticipated the meeting to take place within the next few days.

“You know, I’m surprised you never actually tried my tea,” a familiar voice noted as an old tea set untouched by time materialized beside his desk alongside the divine mare.

Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “I … honestly forgot about it.”

Faust rolled her eyes. “Well, it is what it is. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less when you were so focused on other duties.” She poured a pair of cups. “Now then, Father tells me he already told you of my intent to visit. He also hinted that you may have something to ask of me. Do you?”

“There….” Hammer Strike took a moment. “There are some concerns that I would like addressed, given the recent things I have seen. Old questions have come back to me once more.”

“Then it seems this is the perfect time for you to drink, after all.” Faust proffered a steaming cup to the stallion.

Hammer Strike accepted the cup with a nod and took a sip. “I want to know the status of four individuals in the afterlife. Terra, Tempus, Andre, and E. I know they didn’t make it off the island, but considering what we saw, I want to know they at least made it there.”

“Terra and Tempus did, indeed, make it to the fields.” She sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same for the others.”

“I see,” Hammer Strike sighed as his shoulder drooped. “Creatures of that nature are noted to leave nothing in their wake, so I suppose I should at least count some as a positive note. I just wish it didn’t have to turn out that way.”

“I do, too.” She sighed. “They opened a door that never should have been opened, and they paid the ultimate price for it. Would that those who weren’t responsible could have been spared.” She took another sip herself.

“Are they, Terra and Tempus at least… I suppose the best way to put it would be, happy, in the afterlife?” Hammer Strike frowned.

“They are well cared for. But you know what it is to be a parent, Hammer Strike. You always wonder. And worry.”

Hammer Strike hummed to himself for a moment. “I’d suspect as much, yes.” He frowned. “Do … you think we could make a deal?”

Faust raised a quizzical brow. “You wish to strike a bargain with me?”

“Though I don’t like the idea of it, yes.” Hammer Strike took a breath, then plunged in. “Would it be possible to bring them here in a mortal body? Probably not Alicorn in nature. That would turn too many heads. But can you bring them back for at least a day? They risked their livelihood to bring me from that laboratory into a home, saving me from whatever else was going to be thrown at me. If I can help ease their worries and give them the closure they need, I am willing to make a deal for it. If they are willing, that is.”

Faust frowned. “Overturning the natural order like that, even for just one day, is a risky piece of business. In theory, I can do it, but it’s something I prefer not to, if I can help it. It sets a precedent I’d rather didn’t exist in this world.” She took another sip from her tea. “It might also cause some rancor among the other members of the empire that made it with Terra and Tempus in the first place.” She brushed her chin in thought. “I might be able to convince them, however, since they at least have their families, their children, with them. Terra and Tempus do not.”

“Even if you cannot, or would rather not, I wanted to at least ask.” Hammer Strike sighed.

The tinkling of the teacup returning to the tray rang through the silence of the room. “If it were any other asking, I would refuse them immediately, Hammer Strike. But you have done more for this world and its denizens than any other creature ever has or likely ever will for so long as this world will stand. The gods owe you a great debt, myself especially. I’ll need to counsel with my family and discuss the possibility with Terra and Tempus. But, … assuming that all parties are willing to agree, I will grant your request.”

“I … would greatly appreciate it.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile. “Assuming you could get the results within a week, I’ve already had Celestia and Luna clear their schedules, so we can catch up on events.”

“Then assuming I can get Mother and Father to agree, I believe I will be able to have your old friends return for a visit very soon.” She smiled in turn. “Just remember to take good care of them, Hammer Strike. Should this go through, you will be the keeper of their time. And you will be the one who must tell them when it is time to go. Are you willing to accept that burden?”

“I am.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“Then all that remains for you is to wait,” her voice began to reverberate as she faded. “And see.”

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he looked down to his desk. After a few moments he furrowed his brows in thought. “Wait, it was a deal. What am I going to owe…?”

“Hammer…. Strike?” A voice spoke up that he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

Hammer Strike stood up in alarm as he turned toward the source of the voice. Beside his desk was the familiar figure of Tempus, though his wings were missing. “T-Tempus?”

“It’s been a long time.” Tempus smirked. “You’ve changed.”

A crushing grip snapped around Hammer Strike’s neck as the familiar scent of soil, flora, and just a hint of quenching oil wafted to his nose. “We’re so glad you made it.”

“Terra.” Hammer Strike chuckled as he looked to the mare. She was missing both her horn and wings, but her smile was just as warm as he remembered it. “It took a lot of work, but I did my best.” He gave a smile as he looked over the two. “I remember you both being taller. Though, I did screw up in using the medical cube a little.”

“Well it was set for Alicorn biology,” tempus pointed out.

“Yeah, figured that out afterwards.” Hammer Strike rubbed the back of his head. “By the Divine, I just wish Faust would have given me more of a warning.”

“You spoke with Faust?” Tempus asked.

“To make the deal for you both, yes.” Hammer Strike smiled. “Don’t know what the price is going to be, but it’ll be worth it in the end. I can at least anticipate better odds than with Sleipnir or Bonnie.”

“And … and the girls?” Terra asked

“The ‘princesses’ of the kingdom are currently in the capital city of Canterlot.” His smile widened. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Equestria. Though the current settlement is in repairs from the weathering of time, the rest of the world is quite different.”

“A few millennia have a way of doing that,” Terra noted wryly. Then her head whipped back to Hammer Strike suddenly. “Did you just say princesses?”

“Indeed. Due to the convoluted nature of time, I was lord protector when I was summoned back to the empire. Over the many years I watched over this world, I did more than just that. Currently, I have yet to reclaim my throne after my departure in time. I am the one who settled this nation of Equestria. In turn, I adopted Celestia and Luna into my family, rendering them princesses to the populace.”

“So much happened,” Tempus stated, somewhat in shock.

“Indeed.” Hammer Strike smiled. After a second, he seemed to notice something outside the window and nodded to himself. “Also, I should warn you both of one other thing. There are a lot of Gryphons under my employ, and that of a trusted individual, Grif Bladefeather. Most Gryphons aren’t hostile on sight.”

“That's … a lot to take in,” Tempus said.

“Speaking of which, Dear, what happened to your wings?” Terra asked. “And for that matter, what happened to mine?”

“I should probably step in for that question, actually,” Hammer Strike spoke up. “I requested that you two were to be brought back as anything other than Alicorns. Celestia and Luna are the last natural-born Alicorns in this world, while only… three others have ascended to the form due to an abundance of magic and other variables. Having two more appear would cause an uproar, followed by a grander one when the two of you have to depart.”

“They’re really all that remain?”

“Technically, yes. Stor E. Teller is still around, but … given his health, it’s not obvious. As for the ones stationed in the north,” he sighed. “They nearly completed the crystalline weapon. I had to travel up there and … deal with them.”

“And the synthetic lifeforms they created?”

“Shifted more towards living,” Hammer Strike replied. “I need to head up there sometime soon, actually, but that’s for another time.” He pulled out a scroll and began writing a quick message. After a moment, he rolled it up and his hoof burst into blue fire as it vanished. “There we go. They should be on their way over within the next hour, giving you both plenty of time to adjust first before we see them.”

“Adjust or settle in?” Terra asked.

“Adjust,” Hammer Strike repeated. “I was able to get you both a day. I don’t think I can extend that further.”

“It’s more than we could expect,” Tempus said as he lifted his head. “Thank you, once again, for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It was the least I could do for what you did for me.” Hammer Strike gave a smile. “Come. I can introduce you to their adopted brother, since he’s likely to arrive during the meeting. He’s a Feathered Dragon.”

“I’d thought they all died out,” Tempus said in mild surprise.

“There was still one egg remaining, and Bahamut sought me out to raise him. Which, I will say, was quite the … experience.”

Terra shook her head and smiled. “You know, somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“Well, I can promise you that I certainly was,” Hammer Strike remarked.

---

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but smile as he sat in his throne in New Unity. At the moment, he was waiting for Celestia and Luna to appear while Terra and Tempus waited off to the side, just out of sight. Though he didn’t do it often, he did enjoy a good dramatic entrance.

The twin flares of light heralded the arrival of both sisters as the remnants of their power rained in specks of glittering dust that slowly faded into the ether as they sifted toward the floor.

Hammer Strike chuckled at their arrival. “I swear, you both keep trying to make each teleport with more and more flare.”

“You did say it was urgent,” Celestia noted. “We tend to lose focus on the smaller things when it comes to those kinds of calls, especially when they’re from you.”

“Of course, it’s not like Celestia likes to show off at all,” Luna commented.

“Says the mare who instituted her own religion to unite her subjects.” Celestia stuck out her tongue playfully.

“All right, all right,” Hammer Strike cut in to stop the conversation. “I called you both here for an important reason; one that is sadly on a time limit.”

“Is it an attack?” Luna asked.

“Thankfully, no.” Hammer Strike frowned. “That would complicate things. No, you two have guests. It’s been a while since you’ve seen either of them, and their appearances have changed. And I have already given each party warnings,” he muttered the last part.

“And they couldn’t come to the castle, so these are guests you don’t want anyone else knowing about?” Celestia asked.

“Well, others can know about them. That isn’t the issue. It’s more … they’d need time to adjust, and they don’t have the time,” Hammer Strike explained. “Terra, Tempus, you can come out now,” he called out.

The room rang with the sound of hesitant hoofsteps as two rather large Ponies stepped out from their hiding place. Terra’s brown mane and sandy fur were accented by the green tips at the end of her mane. The deep purple coat and light green mane and tail that wafted behind the stallion was emphasized by the long horn that protruded from his head.

Celestia stared at the two Ponies in open-mouthed disbelief. For the first time in ages, the Alicorn of the sun was rendered speechless.

Luna seemed confused for a few moments as she stared with them. “Sister, who—?”

Celestia’s eyes darted back and forth between the two stallions. “I-is this...? Are they…?”

“Luna, you were a bit young to remember, but yes. They are your biological mother and father. They ... never made it off the island.” Hammer Strike sighed. “One regret they had was not being able to see what became of you two, so I made a deal with Faust. One day. That’s all I could get them.”

Tears stood in Terra’s eyes as a hoof covered her mouth in a choked gasp. “My little girls.” She raced toward the two of them and wrapped a foreleg around each of their necks in a passionate embrace.

Tears slid down Celestia’s cheeks as her lips wobbled. Though she had neither wings nor horn, the smell was the same, the familiar perfume of dirt and soil, of root and leaf, of flower and fruit and so many things unnamed and unknown through Equestria. But she knew them. She knew them well. Down the corridors of memory, a familiar fanfare of exultant trumpeting flora blasted a triumphant refrain with the word that sputtered tremulously from her lips. “Mother….”

Luna was slower to accept the physical affection, stiffening up at first. She slowly allowed herself to relax. “Mother?” she asked, looking up to Tempus as he slowly approached them. “Father?”

Tempus’ eyes watered lightly as he stared at them. “I’m here, Luna.”

Hammer Strike gave a smile at the reunion. “Though it took some time, at least this reunion could finally take place.”

“Thank you, Hammer Strike,” Tempus said. “It seems we are ever in your debt.”

“No.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “You never were. The reverse feels more true, to be honest.”

“After raising them for … how long did you say it was again?” Terra asked.

“Based off what Ainz has told me, it’s been fourteen thousand years since the end of the Alicorn Empire, and I admittedly wasn’t around for all of those years. A little hard to do with clashing timelines,” Hammer Strike explained.

“You raised them, though, didn’t you?” She beamed at the girls. “You helped them to achieve all this.” She stroked the side of each mare’s face. “Your grandfather would be so proud,” she told them.

“Not … of everything,” Celestia said as she broke her gaze with her mother.

Terra, ever the strong Galaxia, was not about to let that stand. She raised her daughter’s chin to meet her gaze. “He would be proud of what you’ve accomplished and the growth you’ve achieved, through your triumphs and your mistakes. You know how smiths are. If they don’t succeed, they melt it down and try again.” She smiled knowingly at Hammer Strike. “I’m sure Hammer Strike must have taught you that, if nothing else.”

“Everything I could.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smile.”Every little thing I could.”

“I’m a smith, actually,” Luna said sheepishly.

“So Hammer Strike told us.” Terra smiled. “Would you care to show me some of your projects?”

“Of course.” Luna smiled. “Though it may be a bit of a trip. The closest access to my workshop is in Canterlot.”

“I can create a rift to whichever location you need,” Hammer Strike offered. “Make it easier for everyone to travel.”

“You remember where the mirror is located?” Luna asked.

“So long as you haven’t moved it.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“Please, then,” Luna said.

Hammer Strike nodded as thaumic fire coated his hooves and a ring appeared next to him.

“You can make portals?” Terra gaped at the rift, then back at Hammer Strike.

“Yes.” Hammer Strike smiled. “Well, similar to a portal, but not quite a portal. Less of a tunnel created, more like stitching two points of reality together temporarily.”

“A tear, then?” Tempus asked. “A rift in reality?”

“Exactly. Hence why I call it a rift.” Hammer Strike nodded. “All right, shall we go see Luna’s forge?”

Terra smiled. “Lead on, you wonderful stallion. Lead on.”

Comments

[Well Geboren]

Wonderbar, wonderbar, twas the most perfect ending to a chapter yet!!~~

[Charedfirescale]

You know, technically Vital robbed the cradle with Trixie and most likely will with Sunset in the future. As it could be stated that he is from the Discordian era, which is when Discord brought him to Equestria as Connor to fight Shawn/Hammerstrike.

That whole event was really slap dash to begin with. I get that Vital/Connor will/could possibly be(come) Hammerstrike's equal. But you'd think Discord would at least try to brainwash him until Connor was under his control first. Than do some temporal manipulation so that Connor would be equal to Hammerstrike before putting him in armor for the fight.

[DoctorWhoooves]

Oh... Oh the next chapter is gonna be a feel good, 'Day with the Galaxia's' That tug at the heart strings isn't it?

[notAperson]

I love it! And I eagerly await the next chapter, as well as the moment when hammer strike finally announces his Kingship, and we get to see the horror and surprise on the faces of all the nobles!

[EnderHooves]

I think something has been forgotten. In the first section, how they were talking about what had happened, there was no mention of being made to forget hammerstrike before luna was banished. It was starswirl under Hammerstrike's instruction to keep a time travel paradox from happening. I'd think that would be pretty important, especially when the line "what would father do" is used. That part could be explained away as them not knowing father = hammerstrike though.

[Charedfirescale]

Wait, wasn't Pensword's plan to sell stationary products like staples? Or is that another side business.

[Charedfirescale]

My thoughts on whos who in the story

Team Extended Holiday
American Brony - Writer <-- (PenSword)
Teal Speckles - Writer <-- (Grif Bladefeather ?)
Shawn820 - Writer <-- (Hammerstrike)
OmniKitsune - Writer/Head Editor <-- (Vital Spark)
Biker Dash - Editor

With the other two its hard to say. However, I think Teal Speckles is Grif. As for Biker Dash, he seems to be an inactive member. Since his last posts are from 2017

[Booster Spice]

Intresting collection of story lines being reinforced, especially with Gryphon Mercenaries loyal to Hammerstrike only arriving, setting up a possible Bison situation with Griff under the right horribly convoluted circumstances? Especially with Yharons training?

If the investment operation is only 45% for 3 airships and support, then theres no investment needed for the largest single airship, which like the largest wind turbines generates so much uncontested income from a premium price unique market, would take even less time to pay off, and then cover the costs of the next airship builds and support, its not about the actual investement, its about the method and the market opportunities, as in Gladmane being able to consider the Nimbus permanent Air Pleasure Palace at the far future etc?

Hammerstrike has made a true Faustian Pact? Better get Lord to go over the contract just to see what the best and worst limits are?

[Pitviper0444]

I LOVE THIS STORY

[Charedfirescale]

10787965
Right, the first few chapters are pretty rough. It isn't until Vital takes over some of the writing and editing that things start getting good. If I remember correctly the melee combat thing was dumb luck and they receive training later on.

[Charedfirescale]

10788541
Hammerstrike does need to be nerfed. Nothing against the character, but a lot of major characters are related to him. Its getting kind of silly. Hammerstrike is getting too overpowered.

It may be best if he divests himself of certain titles, such as being the High Chief of the Batponies. It even might be a bad idea to retake the crown.

[Shawn820]

10788541 10788926
While a few points you have made lean slightly towards correct, there's a little more context needed for some things. An example would be the 'killing Alicorns like it's nothing', which is only slightly true. I say slightly, because it's noted that scientists hold little strength in comparison to Hammer Strike, but he typically struggled against members of security. As for the godlike beings, I don't think we had him face anything at that level, though the closest he fought was the corrupted Ursa. Both of which resulted in some more severe injuries to himself, though the time skips may have made it seem as though he healed rather quickly, but given we were working through over a thousand years of time, we had to take some major jumps. When it comes to him being the first leader of everything, it's noted that it was done out of necessity, The Thestrals for example were constantly attacking his followers, so he stepped in, and the only way to stop them was to take a position of power with them. He's used his title when challenged about his position, but doesn't really flaunt it, and we've even had him note in the present that while he may be the high chief, Luna is still running things. When it comes to making things, his stuff is mostly tied to weapons when it comes to his pride in making them, everything else he'll only mention if he's asked about it.

Last thing I can note, is him taking the title of King makes him take a step back from a number of things, including small battles and other miscellaneous events.

I won't say he isn't absurdly powerful, but given the time and length of things, I honestly think the scale wasn't too bad at 7 years of writing, and 2.6 million words. Yes, some characters haven't grown to the same scale I won't deny that, but there were many things that shifted the scales for them. Pensword didn't nurture his power, Vital is still young in comparison, and Grif is capable of making multiple solid copies of himself with how fast he is.

[Charedfirescale]

10790101
That's pretty fair. Responsibility is like its own set of chains.

I kind of hope Pensword manages to get back that power at some point.

[CarolMAssphault]

...Well, maybe I gave the gods and alicorns WAY too much credit. So apparently Celestia and Luna can move the sun and moon/stars respectively, but even with all the magic-four alicorns included-in Equestria, Tirek was still only a continent-buster, so not enough raw power to blow up the moon or sun. Master Roshi was able to blow up the moon with a pl of 139, so everything-save for maybe the gods-are probably under a pl of 50. So unless achieving godhood gives one a ludicrous boost, then they and the Old Ones are not anywhere near SSJ2...or even a 1,000 pl.