70 - Bloodsoaked Feathers
Extended Holiday
Ch 70: Bloodsoaked Feathers
Act 8
Pensword looked up to the sky from his perch on an abandoned balcony. Before him, another battle was wrapping up as the citizens of the city rallied to rout the Emperor’s would-be-killers from a nearby plaza. Above, the Die Kling glided over the castle as flashes of light and gusts of wind redirected projectiles. Soon they would be able to storm the gates. He nodded once to a fellow Thestral, who proceeded to signal using his wings to hold a pair of flags. After a series of waves, the combined forces of the Thestrals and the Demon Damned took to the air and rushed the a blockade while ground troops kept the soldiers occupied maintaining the blockage.
“Uncle Pensword, how long until we get into the palace? Daedalus needs us,” Cosy said as he looked worriedly at the compound.
“Hopefully by day’s end.” Pensword paused as he processed what Cosy was saying. It felt so strange being called Uncle, even if he had asked the young prince to do so while they stayed in Gryphonia. “Stick with the guards on the ground. I’ll meet you on the other side of the blockade.” With that said, he roared as he took to the air and divebombed on the other side, taking out two more Guards. Much to his surprise, the Gryphons were pulling back. Pensword let out a harsh whispered curse. “They are falling back to the fortress. They are falling back to reinforce and strengthen the walls.” Something did not seem right. The air felt different, but he couldn’t put his hoof on what could be wrong. He watched as Cosy came up from the rear. Matthew was once again commenting on Pensword’s range of vision, which was strange. Pensword thought Humans were a miracle to have survived to become the most dominant race on Earth. Then he shook his head to clear it. He had to stay on task.
“Report,” He ordered to Captain Kahn as the Gryphon approached. “How much further can we move before we hit open air and we have to wait for the airship to support us?”
“We can take everything up to the compound’s outer courts. Thanks to Empress Warbeak the Third, the homes around the fortress were raised due to how her father was killed. She turned the front area into a mixture of gardens and paved streets for easy targeting in the event of a siege. We won’t have much in the way of cover once we get to that point.”
“Then take all the streets and houses up to the gardens. Position the archers to take up the windows on the upper floors and rooftops. I want those Gryphons herded into that plaza and then I want the front plazas to be contested.”
“Understood,” Kahn responded. He turned around and vanished into the crowd. Pensword sighed inside. This was going to be torture on these souls, but still, why follow The Demon? Hammer Strike, he could understand, but why him? He moved forward with purpose and felt pride in seeing the crowds open up for him. He did not know how the Gryphons would view him now, but he was going to stop this Civil War, pure and simple. He saw Cosy racing up to meet him, his expression grim. Pensword slowed his pace to let the War Prince reach his side.
“What next?” Cosy asked as he approached.
“We get to the front, and see what we have to do. Wait for the Die Kling to attack,” he answered. “We need them to draw the Gryphons away from the main body. I hope it starts soon.”
Avalon stood on the prow of the ship, her focus glowing as it had on the pier as she glared defiantly at the armada. Three had come within firing range and had already begun firing their harpoons as electricity arced from their holds and channeled into the projectiles. “Not this time, boys,” she said, smirking as she redirected the bolts to the ground where a large cluster of Gryphons had gathered in the courtyard of the imperial compound. “Keep em coming. There’s more where that came from!”
The Gryphons that were not taken out by the bolts scattered, breaking their defensive formation to avoid the suddenly deadly rain falling from above. The open ground became a kill zone as the ground forces below pulled still further back, slowly being picked off by well aimed crossbow shots in the area beyond the gardens. The enemy ships continued to fire as Avalon playfully redirected the attacks.
And then she heard the hollow clunk echoing as numerous smaller ports opened on the three attacking ships. The sound of muted thunder boomed from within as the ships charged their thunder harpoons. Within moments a volley of the glowing electric blasts lanced towards her.
“Snowy!” The owl hooted and nodded as it squinted at the bolts. Raising both hands, a bright nimbus surrounded Avalon as she concentrated. A massive gust of wind blew from all sides of the ship, stirring the air around them as it compacted in front of them.
“What are you doing, Avalon? Get out of there!” Jorund shouted.
Avalon maintained her position as the familiar surge flowed through her body and her ears, blocking out sound. Sweat beaded her brow as a trickle of blood dripped from her nose. “You shall not pass!” Jorund’s eyes widened in shock as the lightning dissipated miraculously just before touching the hull of the ship. The newest invoker dropped to her knees as she took bolt after bolt, constantly shifting the air.
“How?” Jorund asked.
Gasping for breath, Shrial spoke. “By moving the right particles in the right places, I can negate the charge.”
“But--”
“No buts, Jorund. If that lightning gets through, we’re all dead, and the Emperor dies too. I am not about to let that happen.”
Avalon lay down, her eyes still glowing as blood flowed freely from both nostrils in her beak. As her strength plummeted and it seemed the pure exertion from the action would kill her, the wind picked up from the southeast, blowing hard and fast. Suddenly, as a brown blur slammed into the side of the enemy ship, one question echoed through the air.
“Who?”
From the east, owls came like a feathery horde: burrowing owls, great horned owls, snowy owls, owls of every species, size, type, and gender swarmed in, bringing their full wrath against the ships and their crews. At first it seemed fruitless, but soon the ships groaned under the offensive, veering off course as the Gryphons on deck desperately tried to chase the birds away. Their efforts proved unsuccessful as the birds looped, gouged, and dodged, escaping arrow, bolt, and blade while still dealing damage.
Further away, advancing ships were beset by pigeons, turtle doves, eagles, falcons, and all manner of birds in pairs, viciously tearing into anything they could lock talons with. The air around the Die Kling was thick with very angry birds.
From the Ground, Pensword and Matthew both looked up as one. The only thing Pensword could get from Matthew’s jumbled thoughts was something about a film and a book called The Birds. Pensword, on the other hoof, was grinning widely as he waited for the birds to descend upon his enemies. This was a boon, and he was not going to squander it. He would attack once the Gryphons lost track of his own forces.
“Brunhilda, you need to get Daedalus into that safe room,” Grif roared for the sixth time as the west door to the throne room thundered under the force of a yet unseen battering ram. Grif and the remaining forces stood lined against the door, bows drawn and arrows nocked, ready to take out anyone they could find. Tables and benches had been set up into makeshift barricades that would hopefully slow the enemy down enough to make the stand count.
“I’m not going anywhere, Grif, not this time. That carrion eater’s going to pay, and by the Winds, I’ll be there to see it,” Daedalus said, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“I’m sorry, your majesty, but not this time,” Brunhilda said as she pounced on Daedalus, causing his legs to buckle beneath him. A few moments later, the rest of the guard had surrounded the pair and pinned the emperor to the ground. Then, as Daedalus let loose a stream of curses, struggling the whole while, his faithful guard carried him into the safe room once again and pulled the door shut behind them.
“Gryphons of the empire! In a few minutes Gryphons loyal to that abominable traitor will pour through those doors and we’ll be leading the most important stand in the history of Gryphonkind,” Grif said as the doors battered. “Gryphonkind. That word should hold new meaning for all of us today. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common goals! Perhaps it’s fate that I should be leading this stand against a force that has shaped our culture since the beginning, and once again I will be fighting against our brethren. Only this time, I’ll be fighting for our emperor, for freedom from the tyranny of a traitor, from oppression and persecution, and for our ideals.” He paused to let his words sink in. “We fight for the future of our very species! Should we win today, this will no longer be known as an ordinary day, but as a day that Gryphons declared ‘We will not stand by and let you murder our emperor! We will not let him vanish without a fight! He will live on! He is going to survive! Today, we celebrate our Affirmation Day!”
The Gryphons around him cheered loudly as one. With a loud crack, the mighty doors gave way and Gryphons poured into the room. Many faced instant death by the deadly shafts of Grif’s warriors. Bladefeathers and imperial guard attacked as one. Grif looked into the horde as he fired his own bow.
“Hurry up, Pensword,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long that speech will hold them.”
Pensword pressed his equine body against the carved stone of a raised flower planter. He looked to the others around him. The Civilians were behind them, but this time he was leading with more battle-hardened troops. He jumped up and over the raised planter and perched on a tree limb. Looking to the others, he motioned with his right wing. Three arrows flew and killed the guards. The birds, it seemed, had their talons full enough just dealing with the airships. Half of the troops had taken flight to try and dislodge the feather friends. Once in awhile, a dead Gryphon would land on the ground from the air with eyes clawed shut and a shaft to the vitals.
Pensword took a breath. This was it. “Forward! On to Victory!” he roared as they charged the open ground, heads down as they let their armor take the brunt of the damage. They charged through the blockade and in moments were engaged with the troops at the gates. It was a bloody affair, and Pensword was starting to feel they would win when the gates suddenly boomed open. Row after row of Gryphon filled his sight, at least two hundred or more. He set his teeth and wings firmly. He would die in this land if necessary. And the odds certainly seemed to fall that way. He let loose a bellow and charged headlong into the fray. If he was to join his family, he was going to take as many of these Gryphons as he could with him.
“Pensword!” Cosy cried.
Pensword turned his head towards the cry as he slammed a wing into the beak of a Gryphon. “Yes?” He shouted.
“Look out!” As Cosy slashed his sword through yet another Gryphon in the enemy ranks, he watched as the fleet of Gryphons swarmed around his beloved Uncle.
“Thank you, Cosy, watch your eight!” Pensword yelled as he slashed another Gryphon in the jugular. No matter how many he killed, more still came. Their accursed flock was endless. He struggled to catch his breath, but he was finding it more and more difficult. He could see his troops being surrounded and cut off. A sudden calm descended as he fought, alongside a strange sense of resolve and acceptance. “You may take me, but you will only seal your fate and your doom.” As he said this, he amputated another Gryphon’s arm with his wing blade, only for his legs to buckle under the pressure of continually raining blows. There wasn’t even time to take to the air. No room to maneuver. He was trapped.
Cosy turned from his most recent kill and his face became a mask of horror. “Pensword!” he shrieked.
“Stand your ground!” Pensword barked. “Do not try to get to me! Keep your ground and watch yourself, do you hear me, Cosy? You are a War Prince. Act your part!” Cosy’s adversaries paused at the mention of the title, their blades hesitating. Cosy took advantage of the gap to strike, cleaving their heads from their bodies in one broad swipe. Pensword, on the other hoof was hit in a leg and sagged as blood poured freely from the wound. Despite the pain, he still worked at keeping the Gryphons at bay. All the same, he and his enemies both knew he was on his last legs. They could smell the blood, the weakness. The Demon would soon be no more.
Cosy screamed. “Somepony, anypony, HELP HIM!” Tears flew like mist from his eyes as his horn flickered to life. The bracelet hummed and sparked, glowing a brilliant purple tinged with blue as a series of crystalline chimes sounded from its depths in ascending harmony, filling the battlefield, passing beyond the throng and into the throne room.
Things were going badly. At first, the Gryphons had seemed to be holding as the arrow line kept the invaders at bay, but soon the numbers began exceeding the arrows they could fire and they had been forced into close ranged weaponry. Grif dodged as a blade hit a pillar where his neck had previously been while he impaled the Gryphon in front of him with a scimitar and kept going. Several of the Bladefeathers had been injured, even more of the guards, and two of them were dead. The defenders found themselves constantly pushed against the saferoom door as the enemy gained ground. Grif could see signs of fatigue starting to grow around them. Things were looking far too grim.
Then everyone stopped as the sound of crystal bells tolled through the air. Where were they coming from? What trickery was this? Then came a sound the chilled Grif’s blood.
“Activation code received. Primary Directive: Protect User. Secondary Directive: Assist User Allies.” The sound of crystal cracking and breaking filled Grif’s ears, followed by heavy feet stomping as the crystal statues, eyes alight, charged through the barricade, slashing any that got in their way with their crystal swords. Their eyes glowed a fierce blue as they barreled through the enemy. Grif barely had the time to dodge as they cleared the way through the hall.
“Oh, Winds, I pray they’re fighting for us,” Grif murmured as he watched them barrel past. “Get the emperor! This may be the distraction we need to get out.”
Pensword gasped from a hit at a joint and he rolled with it, punching his attacker in the chest with his armored hooves even as he felt the limb pop out of its socket. Then he rolled. He felt the pain as his armor pinched his wing joints, having been deformed at last by the constant rain of blows. He didn’t know how bad the injury was, but he knew he wouldn’t be flying anytime soon. He barely blocked another blow with his other wing. He had lost track of all his troops. Even Cosy was lost in the din and noise, yet he still continued to fight. If he could kill just one more Gryphon, that might make all the difference. He heard a cry and from a balcony above as eight Gryphons landed on him, pinning him to the ground. He couldn’t tell if the cries were an attack, or made out of fear. Either way, he was pinned, and the only saving grace he had now was that there were too many Gryphons on him to allow a killing blow. He fought, his breath caught in his chest, and he wondered why his family was still not visible to his eyes. He felt depleted. Everything was gone and he couldn’t even move his head. Maybe playing dead would buy more time.
Just as things were about to go dark, the pressure suddenly lightened. He heard several heavy tromps and absently wondered what it could be. He prayed for Cosy’s safety, even in his last moments of consciousness. There was a loud screech like the sound of nails against a chalkboard as something very large and heavy tore into the room. Gryphons screamed in terror and pain as the sounds of commotion hit Pensword’s ears. Before he blacked out, he felt himself being lifted up and set somewhere solid.
Cosy ran for all his legs were worth, his sword a blur of motion around him as he sliced through the ranks. But even with his natural talent, there were too many between him and his goal. He watched as Pensword fell beneath the cowardly onslaught before a fully grown Gryphon obscured his view. The Siberian Tiger-Mockingjay blend sneered down at him.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You lost your parents, little Pony? Let me reunite you with them!” He shattered Cosy’s blade as he brought it up to block, leaving the young prince without a sword and completely open to attack. The stroke was coming too fast to dodge, and even if he could, there was precious little space in the throng of birds, Gryphons, and Thestrals. As time seemed to slow, Cosy shut his eyes, visions of his life passing through his mind as he recalled the Crystal Empire as he knew it, the battle for his home, playing with Pensword, training with Grif and the other Thestrals, all the way up to his time back here at the Empire. And now, now it was all coming to an end.
There was a loud thud, followed by the sickening sound of a blade cutting through meat and crunching through bone, then a clang, and finally nothing.
Cosy stood there, his body shaking in place. Was he dead? Was that sound the sword cutting into him? If he opened his eyes, would he look down to see his own body?
“Priority One: Protect User. Command Control Identified. User Secured.”
Cosy opened his eyes to see a towering, glowing purple crystal Gryphon in his face. “Wh--wha?” The statue lowered its head to touch the bracelet at Cosy’s hoof.
“Crystal Golem Unit 001 Awaiting Command.”
“Save Uncle Pensword!” Cosy said without missing a beat.
“Error. Command prompt fulfilled.”
“You mean he’s safe?”
“Affirmative.”
“Take me to him.” The Gryphon golem dropped to its knees as Cosy leaped onto its back, grasping its neck before it rose up onto all fours again and began to wade through the battlefield. “I’m coming, Uncle Pensword,” Cosy shouted as his new guardian struck left and right, decapitating and mauling interchangeably with talon and sword. Any swords that struck its sides bounced off with a bell-like ring. Soon enough, they had pushed through to where the other three golems stood guard around Pensword’s limp form. Cosy immediately jumped off and rushed to the Pegasus. “Uncle Pensword? Uncle Pensword, it’s me. Come on, wake up. Wake up!” Tears blurred Cosy’s vision as he struggled to revive the Equestrian commander.
Pensword groaned as he coughed and coughed again. He opened his eyes, then closed them again with a groan. At first Cosy thought that it was because of the light, but then he noticed the tears as Pensword started to cry. “I failed. I failed all my promises.” He sobbed. “You were not meant to die, Cosy. Not you. You are too young to have crossed over.” His body heaved from another sob, causing jolts of pain to pass through him as the wound throbbed.
Cosy didn’t answer, he just grabbed his Uncle as fiercely as he could, squeezing his neck in a nigh on murderous hug. Then he started to cry.
Pensword instinctively returned the hug and wept with the foal. He jerked his head up. “What?” he sniffed as he stared at an empty spot. “Well--” his cheeks went red. “That-- Um, sorry, mom.” He paused. “Right, right, no need to be sorry, just, wha--?” he trailed off as he finally noticed the four Crystal Golems. “Uh, Cosy ... what happened?” He winced as the shock began to wear off on the injuries he’d sustained.
“I don’t know. These statues from the throne room just came and saved us. They said something about a user and protection and, well, here we are. Oh, Uncle, I’m so glad you’re alright.” Cosy hugged Pensword yet again while the golems continued to stand in defense, deflecting arrow shafts with pinpoint accuracy.
“Right.” Pensword took another breath, the questions flowing like mad through his mind, but those could be asked afterwards. “Right now, we need to clear a path and get Daedalus out of here. So first, can these things protect us? Second, if so, are they on an energy level and could they be drained anytime soon? I would rather not rely too heavily on something that could stop working suddenly.”
“Power levels are at maximum efficiency. Units have absorbed ambient magic while in stasis to maintain basic function. All other functions had been suspended save observation and recording. You need not feel concern. Query. Permission to enter full engagement mode?”
“Full engagement mode? What’s that?” Cosy asked.
“These units have not gained permission to engage the enemy. Defensive parameters only. Chance of primary directive, 100%, chance of secondary directive, 1%”
“You mean you’ve only been protecting us so far? What can you do when you attack?”
“And what is this Secondary Directive?” Pensword asked, wondering why it was at a one percent.
“Secondary directive: clear imminent threats, minimize allied casualties, increase enemy casualties,” the lead crystal Gryphon explained.
“And who are your enemies exactly?” Cosy asked uncertainly.
The Gryphons’ eyes glowed and the band on Bellacosa’s hoof pulsed.
“Enemy: Grask Bloodbeak, rebel. Status: criminal. Known allies: Valerius of Clan Spear Flight, Cornelious of the Silvertongue Clan. Targets destroyed. All bearers of these royal emblems are designated targets.”
“And what about the Gryphons on our side?”
“They are not designated targets.”
“And you can tell the difference?”
“Units have stored over a millennium of data. Empathic link has granted us the most recent data and we have adjusted accordingly. Allies will not be harmed.”
“In that case, then I want two of you on attack mode and two to keep guarding Pensword and me.”
“Cosy,” Pensword began in disbelief. “Where do you need my troops?” He took a shaky breath. “Where do you need me?”
“I need you to hold still, Uncle,” Cosy said seriously. “You,” he said, pointing to one of the four golems, “put Uncle Pensword on your back and protect him. He can’t fly like this, and I don’t want him having to walk till he gets medical help. You,” he said, pointing to the second, “protect me. And as for you two, Change to secondary directive, but leave Grask for Grif.”
“Affirmative. Gamma and Beta shall stay behind to secure your safety. Delta and this unit, designation: Alpha, shall proceed with secondary directive. Permission to enter full engagement mode?”
In that moment, Cosy looked like a true general as his face turned grim. Nobody hurt his Uncle Pensword and got away with it. “Permission granted.”
Alpha’s and Delta’s eyes flashed ruby red before each opened their beaks, releasing a stream of energy at the nearby stone walls. Rather than being destroyed on contact, the stone seemed to be dismantled bit by bit as the light touched it. The resulting fragments of stone gravitated to the large crystal statues and began to clump together, glowing red with heat as they melted and forged together into large smooth plates that covered the golems’ legs, shoulders, and main body. The large articulated armor pieces all carried etchings that Bellacosa couldn’t make out and confused Pensword, but matthew recognised the circuitry burned into the armor for what it was. Holding out their clawed hands, stone formed into large spears with barbed heads.
“Full engagement mode activated. Beginning operation.” And with that the two rushed the hallway. Moments later, echoes reached Pensword and Bellacosa: the echoes of Gryphons screaming in terror.
Grif slashed forward, his scimitars flashing as he danced on the point of his formation. When the statues had come to life and charged through, it had separated and demoralized many of Grask’s troops. Grif had decided this was the time to push. He stood central, in front of Brunhilda and Daedalus while Bladefeathers covered the left flank. The remaining imperial guard covered their right flank and the V pattern they formed scythed through the enemy's lines as fast as they could. This was not to say it was easy, however. They were still heavily outnumbered, but the enemy was disorganized and scared, and Grif was going to take advantage of this while he could. “Daedalus, where exactly did those statues come from?”
“They’re made of crystal, and they came to life. Where do you think they came from, Grif? Daedalus said testily.
“Forgive me, I didn’t realise that the Crystal Ponies decided to make giant crystal Gryphons just after a war with the Gryphons!” Grif shot back.
“What did you expect? Our ancestors were raiders and scavengers after they lost the war. I was going to tell Cosy about them after we finished negotiations before all Tartarus decided to break loose,” he said as he fired an arrow into the opposing Gryphons without even looking. The shaft found its mark in an enemy soldier’s forehead.
“Yeah? Well you're already breaking a record for surviving one of these rebellions, so you may get to talk to him yet.” Grif would have kept talking but was cut off as the flow towards them became incredibly heavy. Only strangely enough, a majority of the Gryphons seemed to be trying to get around them. Grif was about to question what was happening when something large and purple hopped over their formation at incredible speed and chased after the fleeing troops. Grif wasn’t sure what it had been, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. The enemy was thinning out now as the Gryphons struggled to get away from the massive killing machine.
Grif stopped as they reached two more of the crystal Gryphons standing sentry, two familiar figures held within their care. “Pensword? Bellacosa? What’s going on?”
Cosy shrugged. “I dunno. They just came to help and they’re saying I’m their user, whatever that means. So they take orders from me and I told them to help thin out the ranks while these other two protect us. I’m not letting Uncle Pensword fight anymore till his injuries get treated,” he said, looking meaningfully at the Pegasus.
Pensword lay on the back of the second Crystal Gryphon, grumbling. “I can still order troops around, you know. I am not some invalid old guard who has lost all this teeth” He tried to sit up, but winced and moaned as he lay back down. “I wish Lunar Fang was here, she would know how to get rid of these kinks and snags.”
“I think it’s time for a tactical retreat.” Grif laughed dryly as he rubbed the colt’s head. “Run and live to fight another day, as the sages say.” He looked at Pensword. “If you keep trying to be tough, I will inform your wife,” he said warningly.
“... Very well,” Pensword grumbled reluctantly. “A tactical retreat. Just make sure the air is clear. I am going to have to be carried up in some way as not to destroy morale.” He paused. “If I ever do die, stuff me in my armor, prop me up, and send my body into battle.”
“None of that!” Cosy snapped. “Grif, is Daedalus with you?”
“I’m right here,” Daedalus said testily as he folded his arms. “Somebody decided to lock me up instead of letting me fight with him to escape. He casually threw a knife to his side, where it found its mark in the form of a Black Tip assassin. “I don’t know whether to be glad or angry that I don’t have magic right now, because if I did, I might do something I’d regret.”
“Can we be Grumpy together?” Pensword replied as he glared down at the crystal Gryphon while it killed yet another attacking Gryphon that was drawing its bow. “At least you can get kills in still. I feel like a coddled foal right now.” He paused before chuckling. “I have something that might cheer you up, Daedalus.”
“I just hope Avalon and the others are ready at the Gantrithor. We’re going to have to move fast and make this convincing,” Grif said, removing his cloak. “Daedalus, give me your cloak.”
Nodding, Daedalus removed his cloak and handed it to Grif as the pair exchanged.
“Uh, yeah … about that,” Cosy said, rubbing the back of his head with a hoof.
“Bellacosa, I just lost Kel’leam. Your next words had better be ‘I’m sure they're all waiting for us.’” Grif’s eyes glowed as he lifted his head. In an instant the whirlwind returned, only it was its usual clear consistency with none of the black from earlier. “OR SO HELP ME, SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE!”
“What War Prince Bellacosa is trying to say is, that at the moment, Avalon is in the Die Kling above our heads holding enemy ships back, and…” Pensword’s ears twitched as they heard the sound of something hitting the ground. “Well, make that two ships remaining that would have been backing us up. She is controlling every single feathered beast in the air right now to attack and keep the sky clear. She is literally heading the air battle for our retreat.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Alright, I ... might need a doctor.” He knocked the head of the Crystal Gryphon. “Do you have a medical scanner in that noggin of yours?”
“Negative. And please refrain from touching Unit Gamma.”
“How can I refrain when I am laying on your back?” Pensword snapped. “What good are you if you soldier boys can’t do a simple medical scan? Even the greenest recruit can do field patch-ups.”
“Error. Unit was speaking of Unit Gamma’s head.
“Oh hell no!” Grif shouted as the wind picked up. “Everyone, head for the docks. Wear cloaks. Keep your bodies entirely covered. Avalon and I will meet you there,” Grif said before he charged out so fast they hadn’t realised he was gone until he was.
“You heard him,” Pensword responded wearily. “We move to the Capital Ship. Cosy, shall you give the orders?”
“With pleasure. Beta, contact Alpha and Delta. Tell them to return to primary protocols and escort us back to the airship docks. Priority protection goes to Daedalus, Pensword, and me in that order. You’ll work with Daedalus’ guards to protect us and help guard them, too as secondary um … secondary …”
“Assets,” Pensword supplied.
“Oh, right. Assets. Did you get all that?” Cosy asked the golem.
“Orders confirmed. Executing.” The statue’s eyes flashed. Its twin and the others further down soon replicated the action. As one body, three statues formed a retreating wall while Gamma continued within the circle, its sword held in a defensive stance as it scanned the halls for any approaching threats. Unseen and far away, Grask watched, seething as, for the first time in Gryphon history, an emperor was successfully evacuated from the palace during a coup d'etat.
Meanwhile, Grif charged out the courtyard doors. The air was still ringing with the sounds of battle and corpses littered the area, yet none of that mattered as he lifted his head to the sky, searching for any sign of his wife.
Feathers, roars, shrieks, and corpses fell from the sky like a snow storm at its peak. Blood spattered the streets and walls of the compound like a new coat of paint. Despite all of this, the legendary warrior could not locate his beloved.
“Winds damn it, Avalon, where are you?” Grif said as he futilely sifted through the aerial combat. Out of the hubub, a highly ruffled snowy owl broke through, making straight for him and letting loose a series of screeches and hoots while it spun its head in excitement.
“Where is she?” Grif asked desperately.The owl responded by circling him three times before swooping back up into the air. Grif wasted no time as he bunched his limbs. The powerful downdraft from his wings knocked over several enemy combatants as he shot into the air after the owl.
Avalon glared at her opponents, her chest heaving as she beat her wings. The opposing Gryphons were a conglomeration of Black Tips and Grask’s troops. She smirked as she slashed another’s wing joint, defiant to the end. “If you murderous scum think you can keep me from my husband, you’ve got another thing coming,” she said. The blood had dried on sides of her beak, though fresh wounds had been opened on her sides, causing her to become light headed. Her white fur had been dyed pink in various places as she continued to resist. Her wings were getting sore though, and the odds were not in her favor. She’d taken down seven on her own. Now she had to face the final three.
The soldiers sneered, impressed with themselves as they attacked, constantly swinging their axes and swords in a continual barrage. Their movements were erratic, the cuts they made shallow, but painful. She could tell they were toying with her, playing with their food essentially.
Avalon defended as best she could with the sword she’d taken from the ship’s stocks. Sparks flew as she took the blows, directed their force away from her body, and did her best to counterattack. Still, despite her skill, despite her training, her arms were flagging. Her muscles burned. It was only a matter of time until the exhaustion of spellcasting combined with her physical fatigue did her in.
“Avalon, dive now!” a familiar voice broke through all other sounds as she heard something traveling through the air. A large swirling ball of wind slammed into one of her assaulters before exploding in a vortex that proceeded to send his torso flying, without his head.
Avalon dived as a second ball blew past her, barely brushing her fur. She distinctly felt the air pass by as it barely cut the edges of her fur off. Looking up, she heard the air rush through her ears as her second attacker met the same fate as his brother.
“I’ve had a really, really bad day!” Grif shouted as the Black Tip swerved to see the very angry raven Gryphon standing there, a large swirling orb floating above his talons. “And now, you freakin platypus droppings had to get your beaks involved. I don’t care who hired you, and I don’t give a damn why. Just shut up, die,” he seethed as he charged the mercenary assassin. “AND DESPAIR!” He slammed the orb into the Gryphon’s chest with all his strength. The Gryphon’s back literally exploded, jettisoning the contents of his chest in a fine red mist. Grif didn’t even look at his victim as he turned to Avalon and dived to meet her, Grabbing her in his arms.
“Next time, just stay on the ship,” he told her. “I really couldn’t handle losing you, especially not today.”
“Why else do you think I was trying to get to you?” Avalon asked, smiling weakly at her husband. “This is really nice and all, Grif, but I’m really starting to feel tired. Do you think we could get Daedalus to the Gantrithor and leave already? I’m pretty much done.” At that moment, Snowy flew up and flapped around her mistress, hooting in a tone which, surprisingly enough to Grif, he actually understood as scolding.
“Women.” Grif rolled his eyes as he turned for the airship in the distance. The air hardened around Avalon in his arms, forming a type of barrier before the air in front of him converted into a wind tunnel and sent them hurtling to the ship.
Grask stewed in the now forsaken throne room as he looked upon his remaining staff. “WHAT. JUST. HAPPENED?” he shouted, a perfect blend of leonine roar and avian screech. He clutched a ruined scroll that numbered his forces. Of all the troops he had started with, only one hundred and fifty one now remained. He was going to have to split his forces in half to try and cow not only the population, but the religious factions now. He glared at his daughter, who had taken to dying her feline fur pink for some strange reason. Her clouded white eyes sparkled playfully in the light.
“Melody,” Grask began, “I want you to stay here with your claw picked guards and maids. This must stand as my command post.”
His daughter giggled “I told you this wouldn’t end well, father,” she said. “You doomed our family. You should throw yourself to Daedalus’ mercy before it’s too late.”
“And what? Be hung alive to be pecked and eaten by the ravens, crows, and vultures while you fall into poverty? I cannot. No, I promised you riches and grandeur. I will fullfill that promise, even if I have to tear this entire nation to the ground.” He stood up and began to pace. “And when I finish here, I shall make sure that Celestia pays for having her lackies muck about in other nations’ affairs. She’s gone too far this time.” He snarled. “When I get my talons on the archives, I want to look at every single treaty. I will ruin her if it’s the last thing I do.”
“No Gryphon force would ever take Equestria,” she said in an almost sing-song tone. “If you leave the palace to chase them, we will never meet again, father,” she warned.
“Then I’ll start eliminating her allies one by one. She can’t use that blasted sun spell if I target Zebrica, or the Minotaurs.” He turned to look at his daughter. “I will see you again. When I bring Daedalus’ head back on a pike. I will make you my heir and princess. Then the nightmares can finally stop,” he almost whispered.
“Beware the white wizard wreathed in cold with frosty hair that shines like gold.” She realised that last bit was new. It seemed to come to her when he mentioned Zebrica. Then she sighed. “My destiny and yours have no longer been synced since the day I was born, father.”
He paused and looked to his daughter. “But you shall be Empress,” he snarled. He paused and then continued with a mocking tone. “So, do tell me, dear, why won't we meet again, hmm? Am I to die at the hands of a flying Diamond Dog? Or maybe a magical satyr will suddenly pop out of the air and turn me into a newt.”
“The winds have decided that if you march out to meet the Avatar, you will not fly amongst the winds nor walk the earth, you will simply--” she crushed a beetle beneath her tail idly. “--be blotted out.”
Grask laughed. “Oh I do so love your little games. So, what then, Melody? How should I humble myself?” he asked, mimicking her sing-song tone. Yet in the midst of this, a glimmer of hesitation shone in his eyes.
Melody let out a long withheld sigh. “You would not listen if I told you, father. Go and do what is in your heart. I will throw myself to Daedalus’ talons when you're dead. He will be merciful.”
“Oh? Because his father was weak? Or was it because he is the opposite of the Royal family his family disposed of?” He snorted in derision. “When the time comes, I will hunt down the Gantrithor and claim it as my own. I was thinking of renaming it after your mother.”
“Mother never wanted this.” The pink Gryphon seemed to actually respond emotionally. “The empress was her friend and you slaughtered her. It was you who killed my mother.”
“Don’t you dare accuse me of killing my own mate.” He roared in anger. “Keep speaking like this, and I will disown you!”
“It’s too late for that,” she said, her voice suddenly growing cold. Her eyes hardened. “You have doomed your clan, but I will not suffer for your foolishness, Grask Bloodbeak.” An ominous wind blew through the room, swirling Melody’s feathers. “I call upon the Winds as my witness. Here and now, I renounce you and all who support you.” She pecked her talon before sucking some of the blood into her mouth and spitting at his feet. “Seek me no more, for I do not know you.” And with that, she took her leave without a word. The Gryphons growled, but parted reluctantly for her. It was ill advised to kill one like her, and the ancient laws protected one who renounced their line for twenty four hours.
Grask Roared and for a brief moment it seemed like he would tear his own daughter to pieces right then and there. However, just as he was about to, he dropped his claws and gave a mad chuckle. “No. Oh no,“ he whispered. “I will return an Emperor, and we can forget this whole mess. I’ll came back ruler. I’ll forgive you, my daughter. Your rash words will melt away in my love for you. For you. All for you.” he chuckled, his laughter slowly rising in a combination glissando and crescendo. Soon he was cackling madly as he slipped over the edge. He motioned with a talon. “Bring my main forces to me. My personal guard, WITH ME!” Fifteen Gryphons formed up around him. He turned to two of his underlings. “Divide the remaining forces and attack the Winds Father. Attack the council, the civilians, or whatever they are calling themselves. I want both of them cowed to my will when I return. You hear me? Cowed. Grind them into the dirt!” He began to cackle madly again as he turned with a flourish, his guards trading nervous glances as they followed behind.
“Live well. Rule better.” Grif grasped Daedalus’ wrist in his hand and clapped the other on his back. “Find a mate, sire a family, and be happy. This is my blessing. Take it with honor, my emperor,” he said, bowing his beak with respect.
The guard stared, their mouths agape. “Did he just…?” Brunhilda asked.
“I think he did, ma’am,” one of the others returned.
“I think you’re forgetting something, Grif Grafson,” Daedalus said as he lifted Grif’s beak with a talon.
“And what is that?” Grif asked him.
“The Avatar can’t be much of an Avatar without his tools,” Daedalus said as he pulled Vengeance and Vigilance from within Grif’s cloak. “Thus do I fulfill my duty and obligation to you and return that which is yours.” He smirked then. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll have forgiven you by the end of the century.”
Grif laughed as he took the blades, pulling out one of his stilettos. “It isn’t much, but this knife was forged by Lord Hammer Strike of Equestria. There are few smiths better for quality weapons. Take this as a gift.” Grif offered it to him. “This is my last one from the war.”
“I’ll take good care of it,” Daedalus promised. “And who knows, maybe one day I’ll be able to invite a delegation from Equestria without the Empire going up in arms.” He chuckled then. “But I get the feeling this meeting won’t be our last, Grif. We’ll meet again, I’m sure.”
“Then do not invite me,” Pensword replied with a laugh; however, his eyes were watching six figures as they stealthily snuck into the Gantrithor while Bellacosa walked up to the Gryphon Emperor.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to really get to know each other, Daedalus, but I’m glad I was able to help. I wouldn’t want your Empire to fall like mine did, not to someone like Grask. And not when you’re in charge.”
“Thank you, Bellacosa.”
“Cosy. Call me Cosy,” Bellacosa said as he smiled up at the Emperor. “Maybe next time I can invite you up to my house instead. I’m sure Cady and Uncle Shiney would love to meet you.”
Daedalus laughed. “Sure thing, Cosy. After all, we still need to discuss those trade agreements. And I’d love to see that crystal heart I’ve heard so much about.”
“It’s a deal. I’ll send you a letter when things get easier for you,” Cosy beamed.
Pensword waited for a moment. Two of his Thestral stallion guards propped him up. “Emperor, speak with Jorrund when you are safe on the airship. There is a list of six families that I would like to see compensated.” His expression fell. “Six of their children fell defending your life in the barracks.” He looked around quickly at the sudden sound of flapping wings, his body tensing. He relaxed as three eagles flew from roofs over their heads, then sighed tiredly. “Maybe in another decade or two we can hold a military exercise together.”
“I think it might take a little longer before my people are ready for that drastic of a change, but I’d definitely like that, Pensword. I think some of my troops would, too. I’ll make sure to notify the families of their loss. There will be much to mourn by the time this coup is finished.”
“Commander Pensword,” he corrected gently. “I am The Demon, after all. Still have to keep some form of decorum present,” he answered with a smirk. “Besides, I am far older than you.” He winced when he tried to laugh. “I had better go see the field docs. You take care. I do not want your ghost bothering me any time soon.”
“Yes, sir, Commander,” Daedalus said with a respectful, albeit playful, salute.
Pensword glared a moment at the Emperor before returning the salute as crisply as he could in his condition. “Very good. Maybe you can break this curse I have. Wars have a tendency to break out around me.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Daedalus said. “Anyways, we should probably get going. If this plan is going to work, we’ll need to get as far out of range as we can. Thank you, everyone, for coming to my aid and to that of my people. We won’t be forgetting it any time soon.”
Pensword nodded and was guided away by the Dream Clan as they surrounded him and led him into the ship. Daedalus saw them smack one of Pensword’s hooves away from a sack with a disapproving look.
“Goodbye, Daedalus.” Grif sighed. “Brunhilda, the shield if you would?”
Brunhilda cradled the greatshield as she carried it across the gap to Grif. “Give him a place of honor. He deserves to be remembered. And put it some place where it can watch the sun set. He always used to like that.”
Grif embraced her gently for a moment before separating and hefting the shield. “When you are secure, if you could see that something is done with his body, I’d appreciate it,” he said. “Goodbye.” He waved one last time before boarding the vessel. He had only just gotten on deck when the gangplank began to raise.
“Grif, the ship’s ready to fly. We’ve been tending to the wounded and the Gryphons who are still able to work have been placed to man their stations. It’s been a little hard getting things together, but then again, nothing worth getting is ever easy.” Then she grinned. “Speaking of getting, where’s Kel’leam? I do believe he’s been avoiding me, and I need to catch myself a liger.”
“Chesh … you need to sit down.” Grif’s voice caught a bit in his throat as he looked at her face.
Chesh stared at Grif, the grin suddenly dropping as she looked to his side where the greatshield sat. The silence was deafening.
“Chesh--I--he--” a tear fell from Grif’s eye. “He’s gone, chesh,” he whispered.
Cheshire approached slowly, raising a talon and gently running it over the lip of the shield. “Tell me what happened.” There was no playfulness this time. The frisky, manic light that usually danced in her eyes had dulled to embers.
Grif told her everything slowly and in as much detail as he could recall. He made sure to recount Kel’leams last words directly for her. “I’m so sorry, Chesh. I failed you.”
She gently ran a hand over the shield. “‘For words unsaid and deeds undone,’” she repeated. “Oh, Kel’leam,” she crooned softly, “why couldn’t you just say it?” She turned to look back to Grif. “I … need some time, Grif. Let me know when Grask’s forces come.” She slowly hefted the shield up onto her back. Her legs trembled only slightly as she lurched forward, adjusting to the weight.
“Chesh--” Grif reached out toward the shield, but Cheshire shook her head, brushing his proffered hand aside.
“No, Grif, I can handle this on my own,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I have to do this for him and for me. Just make sure to get me when it’s time.”
“He was my brother,” Grif told her. “I miss him, too. If you need to talk, my door is always open.”
Cheshire nodded. “We can talk when we get back to Equestria. Right now, we have other things to worry about.”
“Send someone to me with three fresh quivers on your way down, okay?”
“Will do. Besides, I’ve got some preparations of my own to make.” She chuckled hollowly as she walked over and disappeared into the hold.
“Oh for the love o’ pete, Hammer Strike, tell me ye didn’t agree to host political prisoners now,” Demolition Granado shouted from the gatehouse. “Unless you got us some new target dummies, o’ course.”
“Demo, I didn’t want this in the first place,” Hammer Strike said with a flat stare.
“Usually when you don’t want somethin’ happening, it ain’t going ta happen,” Demolition Grandao pointed out as he signaled the gate to be raised.
“They need to stay alive for the time being, not dead,” Hammer replied, glancing at the three behind him. “Though I don’t know what’ll happen in the next few days.”
“Who needs to stay alive?” A female Thestral asked as she walked out of the gates. She paused and gave Hammer Strike a look. “Let me guess, they’re from the coup?” She was dressed in some rather intricate armor accented by more ancient designs.
“Yeah.”
“Where do you want them?” She asked with a sigh.
“Room next to the forge.”
“Ah. Any orders?” She asked as she pawed the ground nervously. “Because I would love to give them a nice space. Quiet, nobody to bother them. A lovely suite carved by Thestral hooves, just six feet under ground.”
“Alive,” Hammer replied flatly.
She frowned. “Well, how am I going to keep up with my mate?” She asked, “He’s having a fun time over there.”
“I honestly don’t know. We’ll see how our adventures go once we’re all together again.”
“Still,” she grinned, baring her fangs. “Do you three know who I am?” She asked, finally turning to face the three would-be delegates.
“Uh, D-dame Lunar Fang?” the central Gryphon asked.
“And do you know who my mate is? Who I’ve devoted my life to?” She stepped forward glaring aggressively as she asserted her authority and station.
“Com-commander Pensword,” the third Gryphon offered weakly.
She smiled. “So you know his other name, and what that means for me. Stay in line, be very polite, and you may just live long enough to see the return of our own diplomatic team.”
One of the Gryphons let out a groan of fear and anxiety.
Lunar Fang turned around and Demo caught the sly smirk that she hid from the three Gryphons. “I’ll make sure the rooms are ready, and the Gryphon Slayers are on the other side of the compound.” She looked up into the air. “Fox Feather, Report to my location.”
“Sir,” one of Grask’s lieutenants spoke up. “We’ve managed to get a view of the docks. The Gantrithor and the airship belonging to the avatar have taken off in their predicted courses. should we pursue?”
Grask looked at the document, and back at the twenty Gryphons in the room. “We aim for the Gantrithor. Let the Avatar leave for Equestria. What do I care for a bunch of cowards? They think they’ve won, so we’ll snuff out that hope now.”
“Very well, sir. The men have gone to secure airships. Should we send an advanced party to try and overtake them?”
“No, I’ll lead the charge myself. Gather twenty of our most skilled warriors. We leave immediately. Daedalus will be mine,” he growled.
“As you command, Emperor.” His underling said as they swiftly retreated.
Grask glared after the slowly exiting ship, a small grin creeping over his face. Normally, the Gantrithor would have been miles away by now. Fortunately, his spies had figured out how to sabotage the thrusters. The ship wouldn’t be able to approach anything close to the wing speed of a Gryphon soldier.
“Sir, we have reports of wind eddies around the Gantrithor. We believe that the Gryphoness from earlier is onboard with the Emperor. Shall we kill her for being a magic user?” one of the more ragged soldiers asked, an arm wrapped with a cloth and sling, partially soaked in drying blood.
“Why would the avatar leave her behind?” Grask wondered, then shook his head. “It’s not important, so yes. If you find her, kill her. No one leaves that ship alive. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Emperor.”
“Is everyone ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” three Gryphons spoke up, “We’re ready for action, Emperor Bloodbeak.”
“Reverse V formation. I’ll take the back. Let's go!” he said, taking to the air.
Hammer Strike found himself shaping a few plates of armor, the recruits that they had formerly belonged to didn’t keep proper maintenance on their equipment. Hammer sighed heavily as he remembered talking to said recruits about how a mistake like that could well mean their death. The musical ring of the hammer drowned out practically all sound as the flames billowed, filling the forge with roiling heat. Yet despite all this, a single voice carried loud and clear over the work, piercing his concentration. The only voice that ever could.
“Hammer Strike,” Rarity called. “Do you have a minute to talk, dear?”
Hammer Strike toned down, doing minor shaping as he looked over to Rarity. “Yes? How are things?”
“Oh things are going positively swimmingly. I just wanted to talk with you about the arrangements.”
Hammer Strike hummed in question, raising a curious eyebrow.
“For the party.”
Hammer Strike blinked cluelessly, eyebrow still raised. He was still hammering the plate.
“Didn’t you receive your invitation? I got mine just yesterday.”
“Invitation to what?”
“Why, to the Grand Galloping Gala, of course,” Rarity said.
A loud clang sounded through the room as a cloud of dust blew out from Hammer Strike’s work area. The anvil and armor plate that he had been working on had shattered. After a moment of pause he turned towards her. “The Gala is that near?”
“Why it’s only about a month or so away. I’m surprised you weren’t keeping track. It’s only the most social event of the whole year.”
“I try to avoid the Gala, to be honest.”
“But why?”
“Because of other nobility.”
“We’ve changed things since the last Gala, Hammer Strike. It’s much more enjoyable to attend now.”
“I don’t know…”
There was a sudden flash of light and a scroll landed on the table next to them. Hammer grabbed it, opening it half way when a small golden ticket fell out, floating gently down to the ground below. “Celestia, I swear your timing is sometimes annoying.”
Rarity took the scroll from him to read.
Dear Hammer Strike,
I know you’ll likely see this letter as an annoyance, and before you try, the ticket is fireproof. Not even I could incinerate it, so there’s no way to “accidentally” burn it this time. I hope you are well, and I hope that Dame Rarity is as well. Frankly, I need a back up for some of my plans for this year's Gala. So, please, please come. I will even go so far as billing you for the catering if you want. Just please attend with Dame Rarity. I think Baron Blueblood is getting a little full of himself, and he needs to be taken down a few pegs, especially after what he pulled with Fel Jade’s little visit.
Looking forward to your arrival,
H.R.H. Princess Celestia
Hammer Strike frowned, giving a low growl before sighing. “I’m going to bring Steven. She’d better expect it.”
“Who’s Steven, dear?” Rarity asked with a small hint of worry.
“You’ll see when I get it. I have to send a letter to Celestia to get her to pull it out of storage.” He gave her a grin. “Long story short, it makes the Gala more… Interesting.”
“No maiming, dear, as much as we may want to throttle some of them.”
“Oh, you always know the right things to say.” Hammer gave her a smile.
“Can you hear this, then?” Rarity asked as she sidled up to her stallion, pulled his muzzle closer to her own, and proceeded to lock lips. Sparks flew around them, a mixture of azure blue and fiery orange.
Grif saw the Gryphons in the distance and immediately moved to stop a Thestral walking behind him. “Hey, can you do me a favor? Find Chesh or find a Bladefeather to find her and tell her it’s time.”
The Thestral mare nodded her head and turned around from the deck, heading back inside of the ship. She smiled as a familiar looking box came into view on the side of the ship with a horn-shaped mouth piece. She pressed a small button on the strange console and spoke into the mouth piece. “Would Chesire please report to the port side outer deck? Please report to the outer deck. Grif is calling.” She stepped back and sighed in relief that she would not have to be hunting all over the ship now.
She flattened her ears as an alarm blared from another speaker of the ship. She did not know what was going on, but alarms seemed to pop up a lot on this strange contraption. This was the sixth one she had heard, and all six had a different pitch and function, she supposed.
Grif took an arrow from his quiver, one of three. This arrow was longer than the others, fletched with one large grey Gryphon feather and two of his own black feathers. The shaft was covered in Gryphon runes. With a flick of his talon, he lopped off the large barbed steel arrowhead at the end and concentrated, pulling the wind aspect energy around it until it formed a similar barbed arrowhead of solid yellow crystal. Taking his collapsed bow from his back, he held both under his cloak and waited. He wanted Chesh to see this.
The Gryphoness that stepped out into the sunlight was far different than the one Grif had come to know. Her expression was grim and her body shone with the light of burnished steel. The shield was still on her back, but it appeared that she had adjusted to the weight as she pressed forward and pulled out her sword, testing its edge as she approached. Gryphon and Thestral alike backpedalled as she pressed staunchly forward. It seemed almost as if a shadow had surrounded her as her eyes burned.
“Ready for a massacre?” Grif asked her.
“You really have to ask?” The steely rasp of her sword as she drew it from its hilt was like the grating of stone on an executioner’s axe. “They won’t live to see the sun set.”
“How far away would you say Grask is?” Grif asked as, with an over dramatic flick, he unclasped his bow. “I want him to see it coming.”
“I’d say they’re a good five miles or so off. Considering how much of a coward Grask is, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s taken the rear.”
A sadistic grin came to Grask’s face as he felt the winds shift under his wings. “You see, men? The winds support us! Feel how they speed us on to the slaughter.” He laughed.
The manic grin was contagious as the troops confidence soared with their leader. With the winds on their side, perhaps what had happened in the Fortress was actually a sign of the fall of the Avatar. If such were the case, perhaps they stood a chance of capturing the Emperor after all. And if Grif had indeed fallen, then that meant the new Winds Father was also a fraud for supporting him, giving them grounds to kill him and install a new one on the seat of power. Surely, the winds were guiding them to victory. They let loose battle cries filled with confidence as they closed the gap.
Grif took a deep breath as he lifted the bow and notched the arrow. Exhaling slowly, he pulled the string back on the ancient black wood, straining as he did so. “Father, if you're there, and if you still guide my wings, then add your strength to this shot. Don’t let me falter, and make my aim true,” he spoke calmly as the ruby of the black bow blazed to life. Generations worth of powerful Gryphon blood that had since been sleeping now roused to the call. In front of Grif’s bow, red magic formed a cross hair.
“Winds, if you still want me as your avatar, and I know I’ve hardly been worthy of that title, then please grant me this boon. Guide this arrow to its target and grant me sacred vengeance for my brother.” The air around him suddenly kicked up into a breeze that circled around his body down his arm and around the arrow itself, causing the crystal to glow. The feeling of this wind on his skin was warm and loving; ancient and wise; playful and competitive, and wrathful, filled with such righteous indignation that Grif had to grit his teeth to keep himself calm.
“My name is Grif Bladefeather,” Grif spoke as he eyed down the shaft, the rapidly growing black dot in front of him suddenly becoming clearer as his eyes glowed, his vision enhancing more than it should. “You killed my brother,” he growled as the picture of Kel’leam dying flashed in his mind. He maneuvered the arrow, aiming under the heart and lungs, away from anything that would be instant.
‘Aim a little higher, son. There’s a tricky wind today.’ The sound of Graf’s old gravely voice echoed through Grif’s mind. Whether it was a memory from his childhood or the ghost of his father guiding him, he could not say, and he really didn’t care. A ghostly talon pressured his arm, holding it steady.
“Prepare to die!” Grif shouted as he loosed the arrow. It flew from its place: fast and deadly, closing the gap between shooter and target in less than a breath.
Grask stopped for a moment in the air as he felt the pain of the arrow puncture his armor and enter his body. He grasped the wound in shock, but he was 150 years old and he knew his body well enough to know the arrow had missed its target. “Missed the lung and the heart. It hurts like Tartarus, but I’ll survive,” he said, assuring his men as he broke the shaft from its place in his armor and waved them forward.
The trap was set and it only made Grif smile all the more as he nocked another normal arrow, took aim, and grinned at Chesher. “Two beaks says I can hit the left flank leader through his right eye.”
“I know better than to bet against you,” Cheshire said. “Just don’t kill them all before they get here. I deserve to get at least some blood out of them.” Her beak twitched.
Grif laughed before turning back and firing. There was a scream as the leftmost Gryphon fell from the sky. He allowed himself a dark chuckle as he nocked yet another arrow. “How long do you think before they realise we’re not Daedalus and Brunhilda?”
“Considering how stupid they were to kill Kel’leam in the first place? They probably won’t know till it’s too late. I’m guessing when Grask lands and starts monologuing. Then it’ll take about another five minutes of boring dialogue before he gets to the point he recognizes us and we kill him. Sound about right?” Her twitch turned into a grim smile. Her eyes darkened, and Grif very nearly shuddered at the sight.
“He’s already dead. When he lands, I’ll show you how dead,” Grif told her, taking another shot, sending the next left Gryphon Screaming to his death. “I’ll leave the right flank to you, okay?”
“Of course. Just let them come. They’ll regret the day they ever crossed me.” And then Cheshire laughed a cold, chilling laugh as she grinned. “I’ll make them pay. I’ll make them all pay.”
And so it went for the next ten minutes of playful banter while Grif took his shots. The mental effects were obvious as the formation slowed and nearly broke twice during their charge, but finally, they were within range for Cheshire to engage them directly. With a deafening roar, she launched into the air, her wings booming as she slit her first victim down his sternum, causing him to fall, trailing blood and internal organs. She whipped an arm above her back, pulling Kel’leam’s shield off its resting place as she set it in place.
“Murderers, traitors. You have shed innocent blood. And it shall be avenged by the very shield he once bore. DIE!” A tornado of shrieks, blood, and feathers followed as soldier after soldier dropped. All the while, a manic laughter filled the skies. “You think I was crazy before? You haven’t seen crazy yet, boys. Oh, but you will. You will.” Cheshire cackled and laughed again as she mercilessly sliced off an opponent’s wings and watched him fall while Kel’leam’s shield took the brunt of an incoming blow before she smashed its edge against yet another Gryphon’s temple.
Grask landed with fury in his eyes and rage in his body as he stood alone upon the deck of the great vessel. “You call yourself the Avatar? You missed, fool! And to think you would waste such an important arrow on me. How can you think to call yourself a Gryphon when all you’ve done has been nothing but turning your back upon your own kind? The winds fail you. Your ancestors forsake you. And you will fail in your supposed duty as protector, leaving the Emperor at my mercy.” He began to laugh. “Roll over now and I might show you the mercy of a quick death.” Grask’s eyes were bloodshot, his breathing unsteady. In a strangely ironic turn of events, he looked almost exactly as Cheshire did. He had lost his sanity, and Grif knew it. Grask drew the blade at his side. “Now die, you worthless affront to Gryphonia!” He charged Grif with a roar.
Grif snapped his talons together instantly. Suddenly, Grask’s chest exploded with a horrible pain, crippling his charge and forcing his blade to drop from his hand. “You’re a cancer, Grask,” Grif told him as he stood, staring down at the would-be-emperor, whose knees had buckled. The pain in Grask’s chest slowly began to spread as Grif carried implacably on. “You and those like you only serve to weaken our species by stopping the change we actually need. You’re right that Gryphons need to understand what true strength is, but you're wrong if you believe that you are that strength. That crystal in your chest is tearing itself and everything around it apart, both physical and spiritual, Grask. Your strength is as nothing before the Winds. Take that despair as you sink into nothingness,” Grif told him as he placed a talon on Grask’s beak and tapped it like an elder would a fledgling during his lessons. “You will never fly with the Winds, nor walk the earth in disgrace. The only way to kill a cancer is to destroy it completely and utterly. You will cease to be.”
Grask’s eyes widened in fear and shock and the madness parted. “N-no--” he wheezed. Even as he did so, the words of his daughter returned to haunt him. ‘If you march out to meet the Avatar, you will not fly amongst the winds nor walk the earth, you will simply be blotted out.’ He looked on in horror as a very bloodthirsty Cheshire shrieked in victory, having plunged her taloned hand into her enemy’s chest cavity. She ripped out the soldier’s heart, crushed it, then let it go as its owner disappeared beneath the cloud bank below. With a nigh pious reverence, she hefted Kel’leam’s greatshield onto her back again, then glided back onto the ship to stand next to Grif.
“Is it painful?” she asked.
“Indescribably.” Grif smiled. “He’s being torn apart to his base elements,” he said as he threw his hands out and pushed Grask off the edge, holding the would-be-emperor in the winds as the two watched him writhe in agony only a bit longer before Grif dropped him. Looking down, they watched as Grask’s body slowly disintegrated from the chest down to his hands and lower body. Soon all that was left was a face. Then, even that disintegrated, the process slowly working its way in. Grask opened his beak in one last wordless plea before even that was gone. The winds scattered what little remained of him until they disappeared entirely. Grif nodded in approval, his expression stony. “He has been totally unmade.”
“Then he’s damned?” Cheshire asked, still peering at the place where Grask had once been.
“Damned would mean his soul still survived, Cheshire.” Grif looked at her with a grim expression. “Even that was too good for him.”
“Then he’s really gone?”
“He couldn’t be any more gone, Cheshire. There’s not a way in all the universe to more fully destroy him.”
Cheshire nodded. “Good. Now Kel’leam can rest.”
“Would you desire it?” Grif motioned to the shield. “If you want it, I’d freely give it to you.”
“I loved Kel’leam, Grif. But even so, I don’t think it deserves to be cooped up in a corner somewhere while I’m out on a mission. It deserves better. He deserves better.”
“He deserved more than I could ever give him.” Grif nodded. “I think I will use this shield in a memorial. Somewhere nice and sunny. What do you think?”
“It’s a start.” Cheshire smiled weakly as tears pricked the corner of her eyes. “It’s a start.”
Grif approached Cheshire and embraced her in a hug. The two stood there embracing, saying nothing as they finally acknowledged their shared grief. The sunset blazed as the Gantrithor slowly changed its course, turning to face the west as they plotted their journey home. The pair glowed together, even as the orb slowly set below the horizon and all became darkness.
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Well, nice to see there's payback, and with new golems to help serve and protect Cosy. Now all we need is a party, a few songs, and maybe something silly to help lighten the mood after a harsh battle.
6570983
Thank you, and yes, glad their was payback as well.
Happy you liked the Golems as well, those were planned out for a while.
6566916
I am happy you like the tF2 characters, my personal favorite is Heavy.
And thank you for the wonderful wish, and as you can see, we did have a new chapter.
I actually laughed in the call as we wrote that scene.
6570983
At the moment one of the writer's Teal, cannot seem to get the comments working, so here is something from him for you to read.
He wishes for me to let you know that you should keep reading as the chapters come out. Because the odessy isn't over just yet.
6571155 It can't be over yet, otherwise you guys would put us in a cliffhanger. Although I have an odd feeling that we might have a sense of the Return of Hope feeling from the star wars, right near the end of the grand hall....I don't know why.
6571161
Yeah, and we have no plans on leaving any of our readers on a cliff hanger.
As for Return of Hope, that was a fun scene, and we might have already did a homage to it earlier in the story. But frankly with what is happening, well you will have to wait and see. I think you will like what is to come.
6571189 YAy!
Finally, Codys bracelet activates, in a similar manner to Star Trek, Kirk and the asteroid deflecting Temple. the Crystal golems are very nicely built, and I still suspect at this time that they are Hammerstrikes work, if not with Vital Sparks input as well, as I cant remember Penswords and Grifs Earth specialities, learning, training
If they are synched up to the museum sphere, then they wont be able to make it to Equestria, unless it has realm range, otherwise they would need to form up a full Command And Control Capital to carry everything. I wonder what matthew recognises in the circuitry on the Golems rock shields, because if its microwave strip line, they could do horrible things to any magic cast against them.
When the Gantithors thrusters were sabotaged, was it to the point where it wouldve destroyed the ship if not found before activation, full or at all, or is the damage such it needs a full drydock refurbishment, replacement?
Calling on the raptors to help defend the airships, clear teh air, its a numerical superiority thing, wouldve been intresting for kingfishers, long tongue and ears, and woodpeckers on the neck. Death by a thousand cuts. The only defenses against wouldve been the Winds, controlled by Grif, Flare, controlled by Celestia, Energy burst by Hammerstrike, crushing shield by Twilight or Shining Armour, or thousand needle flechette by Rarity.
Given Rarity walking into the forge while Hammerstrikes working, I suspect his magic is starting to blend with hers in such a way as to create a sympathic resonance, at least in close proximity, so she gains his presence protection as well as normal bodyguard, combat assistance? Those diplomats wont be able to leave, because they wont be able to get through the forge without turning into rapid BBQ chickens? Im having real fun trying to work out just what could possibly be used for his anvils, apart from solid tungsten, hafnium carbide, fullerenes, and the weirder stuff of titanium niobate energy reflecting crystals, and megabar water ice, but that leads to the problem of the confining pressure magic maybe interacting with the equipment being worked on it.
When Chesire learnt at the end, and went off to prepare, my thought was, not going to throw her life away, but she isnt going to stop if needed, greatly raising the odds of her being hit, but also greatly raising her attack abilities. Criticals or miss, low defense.
What Grif did with the arrow. That was a very, very nasty piece of kit, and people just like to keep trying to one up it. Grask failed because he wasnt worthy enough of might makes right, etc etc, so you end up with the brutalists complaining about the societists applying Bonsai to their demanded rights to destroy others.
Grask shouldve been happy he was Erased. There was a tossup with Chesire as she would kill him quickly, or apply a little more trauma to make it unsurvivable, then chain him up somewhere where he could watch the empire be rebuilt without him, ignored, forgotton.
Wonder if the Golems were a rush build, that they dont have medical spells at least basic included? I also wonder if they can be upgraded, updated. The emplathic link for basic data is a very useful function, and they recharge on form of magic, but can they absorb spells or Hammerstrikes energy crystals, and make use of it?
Now begins the long slow clean up, BlackTalons like spilt crude oil remains in all sorts of hidden cracks, and hopefully the faster return to Equestria on the airships than the ground pound out.
But first. messages home. I wonder what Grasks Diplomats thoughts are going to be at Lunar Fangs smile.
I feel as if the crystal empire is equestria's version of our Atlantis with the advanced technology. I lived when the crystal gryphons came to cosys aid.
Oh and what do u think of these shipping names for Rarity, and Hammer Strike, (Rammer, Hammer Belle, or Hamity.) I know not that great, but their a mach made in heaven. Although I do wonder what the future holds for our three favorite interdimensional travelers. also on regaurds to the rest of the elements will there be romances for them as well.
nice
6579798
May I ask how it is nice? What made it nice?
6580107 moon river don't need to wait for dady any longer beacaus hes on the way backhome XD
allso cant wait when they enter the gala XD
Let us ponder a moment upon the future of our far flung adventures. 1) Fly the biggest airship of war ever to the Crystal Empire to repair the damages and bring it to full function and minimal crew. 2) Swing by the Lunar court to show off the latest aquasition of the Equestrian military to Princess Luna and offer Ride to her and Thestral Nobility. 3) Swing by New Unity to re-unite families and pick up Lord Hammer and Lady Rarity. 4) Show up to the Gala in the pimpest war ship of them all.
6588827
I don't care if this is late but I must say
YES
My favourite characters are Discord, Sheogorath and Cheshire Cat so I applaud you for adding the cat in your story
https://youtu.be/2ueZo5i6GPg
Goodness, I hope she's not, she should be at home with chicks in her belly. I think you mean Avalon.
That was an excellent chapter, and a fantastic end of an arc.
Rest in Peace Kel'leam, may your soul ride the winds in peace and joy. You will be sorely missed, sadly, much as you were in life.
I loved grif's prayer at the end with the arrow. Magnificent crafting of an arrowhead and a delayed reaction on the crystal, rather than an explosion, a slow, seeping destruction.
Shrial? When did you get here?
The golums... they remind me of Hyperion loaders from Borderlands 2/Pre-Sequel/3.