• Published 2nd Nov 2016
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Night Patrol 2: Awakening - Foxgear



A thousand years she was in the moon, now she's back and living in a strange new world. Her friends and comrades gone, nothing but dust in the dirt. With only her sister Luna look towards the future, but the past keeps calling her back.

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Interlude: Germane Front

Night Patrol 2 chapter 56

By Foxgear


Western Front-Hill 4859

Colonel Fleck of The Kaiser’s Imperial army looked out over the barren wasteland, simply dubbed, The No Lands, from atop the remains of the SMS CL Schlamm.

The airship had fallen to the ground taking all the crew with it when it crashed to earth. Though she may never fly again, it’s guns still served the crown. What had once been a tomb, was now a sturdy fortress in the middle of the No lands.

Fleck coughed; his lungs clogged from the damp air. He spat a glop of thick yellow mucus onto the hastily welded steel deck.

Wiping the spatter from his scuff, he bemoaned his unkempt facial hair. It was unbecoming for a soldier, let alone an officer of his majesty’s army, to present themselves in such an uncouth manner. Alas, razors were in short supply, and his knife was dull.

Checking the vast brown soggy ground, Fleck peered through his binoculars, eyeing where the last wave clashed. The multicolored bodies made it easy to see against the barren background.

He winced, seeing one of his brothers in arms tangled in a mess of barbwire, crows pecking his empty eye socket.

Rage flooded his system.

The nerve of the Prench to start this war and then whine when they get their flanks handed to them. It made him sick to his stomach. The pompous frog kissing leaches, he hoped they came to today! He wanted to slaughter them all!

“Come on, come on, Prenchie, come on!”

“Colonel Fleck!” His Adjutant shouted. “The scouts report a massive wave! The enemy is advancing!”

Movement caught Fleck’s attention. A string of barbwire wobbled as his two scouts scurried over the barricades. His hoof tapped restlessly, helplessly watching their slow slog through the mud and bodies.

“Do we have fliers?”

“No, sir! They’re engaged six thousand meters above to the north by five clicks.”

Fleck clicked his tongue, annoyed and frustrated. His scowl was cold and heartless. “LOAD GUNS!”

His Adjutant barely hesitated, repeating the command over the wireless. His unit wasn’t part of the navy or air navy, they were a Panzerkampf, a mix of infantry, artillery, and mechanized units. That said, while the metrics were different, the process was similar.

The artillery ponies quickly familiarized themselves with the ship’s batteries making them their own. They also added a number of their artillery guns to the hull and deck.

The rapid, click, click, click of cranks resounded throughout the ship, the gunners making their adjustments.

“Come on, come on, make it!” Fleck bit his lip, watching his two scouts hurry for the trenches that would assure their safety. He quickly panned to the hill, spotting the first flamboyant glint of the enemies’ stylish uniforms. He saw the light of a horn, followed by a flash.

“Krauts down!” His Adjutant shouted, narrating what he could not see. “Enemy five thousand meters out!”

Another horn flashed, followed by ten more, line fire. “Protzig is down, sir! They’re dead!”

Fleck snarled, heckles reverberating violently! “Hold!” He shouted as the enemy flooded over the hill, hundreds upon hundreds charging headlong to their deaths, while their primitive tanks chugged through the mud over the trenches and barbwire.

“Sir!”

“Hold!”

“Colonel, please!”

Fleck’s snarled turned into a full-blown grin of satisfaction. “Fire.”

The Adjutant yelled.

“FIRE!”

“FIRE!”

“FIRE!”

The entire side of the Schlamm erupted with cannon fire. 150mm cannons, 88mm artillery, and the Ratatata of the smaller 20mm guns spread out like a porcupine’s needles across the muddy plains.

“Keep an eye on the skies! Look out for Fliers!” his Adjutant advised the soldiers, but they already knew that. This was far from their first rodeo.

“Keep the communications jammed! Don’t let them report back!” Fleck barked. This was the third attempt by the enemy to overrun them.

Currently, their armored infantry was encircling the enemy to block their escape.

It was only a matter of time though, he knew, they would get smart and plan some new tactic. He wasn’t brilliant enough to foresee what it could be, but he would kill as many Prench and Hispanians as possible before they took him.

“For the Kaiser!” Fleck proclaimed proudly.

“For the Kaiser!” His soldiers replied, with fervor.

“They’re past the fifth line, sir!”

Even with the rain of shells, the enemy’s numbers allowed them to weather the storm of lead. They were too close to the ship to use the 150mm or the 88mm. Overwhelming the 20mm would just be a matter of time.

“300 meters, sir!”

“MASKS!”

“MASKS ON!” His Adjutant repeated.

A fixing the horrifying rubber mask to his muzzle, Fleck and those under him saw the world through a very narrow circular view. He slowed his breath to not overwhelm his filter, his hoof resting on a series of toggle switches.

“200 meters!”

He hit the first switch, activating a yellow light.

“150 meters!”

Fleck hit the second switch, this time a red light.

“100 meters!”

Fleck grinned, eager to feast on vengeance. He hit the last switch, turning it green. Sirens wailed throughout the derelict ship—greenish-yellow smog pouring from welded on ventilation shafts, rolling across the battlefield like a wave.

Mustard Gas.

Without the improved masks supplied by their forces, it was a slow assured death.

The results were instantaneous. Terrorized screamed rose from the cloud of death that melted the hair off the enemy’s skin, burning the exposed soft flesh beneath. It blinded them, filled their lungs with toxic fumes, causing severe coughing fits that resulted in vile and blood.

Fleck watched it all unfold, cold, uncaring for the pony lives withering before him. His only desire, his driving force, was he wished he could have gotten more.

“Kill them… we will kill these vile invaders! We’ll kill all of them!” His snarl reverberated through the entire unit. To protect their families, their country, they needed to pile the enemy corpses to the sky!

That was the idea of Operation Anvil.

Instead of taking enemy territory, they couldn’t keep or hold. They let the enemy smash themselves against their hardened defenses—spending materials and lives to their heart’s content. At the same time, Germane special forces were behind enemy lines sabotaging factories, rails, anything to clog the enemy war machine.

The Air and Sea navy blocked any and all shipments they could. Slowly but surely, they would cause Prance and Hispania to crumble under the weight of war.

Fleck was only one small part of this plan, but he would do his duty.

“Check for survivors once the cloud clears and ready for the next wave!” He ordered.

While his soldiers went to work, Fleck looked to the sky, black clouds from cannons shot from far above, exploded. If the enemy chanced it, they could send a functioning airship to take them out. To do that, they would need to get past the Germanian 3rd Air fleet.

“Stay strong, mein brothers. Stay strong.”


In the Skies over The Alps, one hundred kilometers from Hill 4859. Commander Vieh of the SMS Destroyer Z28 of the 3rd fleet detached force flew with their sister ships, Destroyers Z29 and Z31. They acted as the vanguard for a daring attack to solidify their position on the ground.

Their target was the Hispanian Airship Hidalgo, a battleship.

“We may be outgunned, but we have them outnumbered! Surround them and hit them from all sides!” Vieh ordered as they navigated through rain and thunder. Bolts of lightning arced through the clouds they sailed, coming dangerously close to hitting them and shorting out their instruments. “Get closer and below the bow of the ship! They can’t lower their main batteries that far!”

“Incoming, ma’am!”

Four shots from the Hidalgo’s quadruple 381mm cannons zoomed by, the G force flinging one of her sailors off the side of the ship.

Vieh righted herself as the ship rocked back and forth on its floatation cloud. The shots from their own 128mm cannon zoomed over the control tower of the enemy ship or went low. The battleships heavy armor nearly unscathed.

“We could have at least gotten a cruiser, even a light one,” Vieh grumbled, frustrated by the plight of their aerial navy forces. They had destroyers for days but lacked everything else.

Currently, Germane only had three battleships and four battlecruisers. The closest one, The Hades, was engaged with Prance’s Chateau, near the southern sea.

However, while they may be outgunned, but their leader wasn’t just throwing them to the wolves. Aboard every Destroyer was a new weapon, designed to bring even the mightiest battleship to heel. Providing you could get close enough to use it. There were some targeting issues.

“Ready Sky Torpedoes!” Vieh called. “Get within 15,000 meters (9 miles)! Are there any friendlies below us?”

“We’re currently over mountain 249, ma’am! No, friendlies!”

Vieh nodded, “Good. To all ships, fire when in range!”

The Z28 and her sisters flew in a single line formation, facing broadside to the Hidalgo. Every soul aboard the small Destroyers could only pray as they faced down eight 381mm barrels and six 150mm barrels.

From over twelve miles away, the 381mm fired, two shots from each turret.

“Evasive maneuvers!”

The nimble Destroyers zigzagged, inching closer and closer, the battleships first volley missing, but the second volley came immediately after.

“Brei!” Vieh screamed into the radio as the shells hit Z29.

The little ship blew up, it’s ammo hold hit. Burning bodies fell like rain, there was little chance for there to be survivors.

“Commander, we’re in range!”

“Fire Torpedoes!”

Mounted on the rear half of the ship, were four cylinders with 533mm magnetic sky torpedoes inside. The term missile was also accurate. Both Z28 and Z31 fired their salvos. Their respective captains biting their lips as the eight rockets zoomed through the sky.

One exploded prematurely, another veered off course to parts unknown, two collided with each other, that was half of what they fired. All their hope remained with the remaining four. One zoomed past the bow of the Hidalgo, leading too far, but the remaining three slammed right into the battleship.

The results were glorious.

The front of the ship exploded, blowing up the bow, the front turret also went up in flames, but the third and final rocket hit the control tower—the brain of the ship.

“Get closer! Aim for their guns and engines!” Vieh commanded, the ship lurching hard left at full speed. Their forward gun firing as fast as it could.

“Hit! Hit! Hit! We got them locked in ma’am!” Her first mate cheered.

A shell hit the second turret, damaging it—two of the four barrels stuck at the wrong angle, smoke billowing from the massive gun.

From the Z31, it fired it’s 127mm, plunging shells into the wooden deck, before sinking lower, going for the underbelly of the ship.

“Langen, be careful, they might have defenses down there.” She warned her only remaining ship.

A gruff, “I know.” Came over the radio. The Z31 positioned its self at an angle for bombarding the belly of the ship, firing for effect. The 127mm shell burrowed through the cloud underneath the battleship, seeming to have no effect. It made sense, airships underbellies were very vulnerable, to make up for that they were reinforced with extra armor.

“Damn, it’s too hard,” Langen growled, firing another five shells at the ship’s belly, hoping for a lucky shot.

Attacking from below seemed obvious, and it was a valid idea, but airship guns weren’t designed to shoot a straight ninety degrees straight up, and there was also the factor of gravity.

“Get back up here! We need to sink this thing fast before enemy reinforcements show up!” Vieh barked at Langen.

Really though, it was only a matter of time. Even if the Hidalgo were to escape, it would be months before it was functional again. In some ways, it was better to let it get away. All the time and resources Hispania would need to dump into the ship to keep it flying would be massive.

That is if they didn’t scrap it and use it for parts. Or try to combine it with some other half-destroyed ship or some ship they were developing.

“Circle around back, get a clean shot at those engines!” Vieh ordered coming to a decision. She would not give the enemy anything!

It took a while, the armor of the battleship was thick, but a well-aimed shot into the thrusters had the Hidalgo tilting earthwards. A plume of black smoke rising from the rear of the ship.

Ponies were parachuting off the side, hoping to escape the flames. Vieh held up a hoof for her forces to cease firing. They would violate the war treaty if they continued to attack. That said, since the rules for Airships were murky, there was no need to attempt to collect the surrendering soldiers.

“To all ships! We’re rejoining with the main fleet! Helms pony! Take us home!”

They were low on supplies, the battle exhausted all of their torpedoes and their shells. Another ship would have to be added to their task force, and repairs were needed.

“We’re not out of the woods yet, boys and girls, steady as she goes until we’re home!” Vieh chipperly announced over the intercom. In three hours, they would be back with the main fleet in the homeland. Hopefully, they could get some R and R before going back out.

The sky fleet was stretched thin, even a day’s rest would be enough at this point.

“Let this war end soon, please.” Vieh prayed though she doubted there were any cosmic beings left to pray to.


Somewhere in the Northern sea

U-boat-534, captained by Riss von Lute, a gruff stallion of the noble house of Lute, bastard son of a Lord Lute and a maid. He was given nothing from his father’s wealth to live off of and chose the hard life of a submariner.

For his service and graduating the War College, he was given his status of von by his own merit. His task in the Northern sea was to sink cargo ships of both the sea and air variety.

Sinking sea ships was quickly done by a torpedo, but taking out airships was a different matter, especially the iron ones. It was a task of great magnitude, requiring skill and precision.

“Captain, scouts have picked up a target, eight thousand meters above sea level.”

“Prepare to surface, ready the SAR-32s, ports one and five.” His orders were given out calmly and precisely. Their scout in the clouds giving them updates by the second.

“Target will be in range in one minute! Adjust trajectory lead time!” The missile operator bellowed as they surfaced.

“No targets on the sea surface, we’re clear to fire, in thirty seconds.” The sonar and radar technician reported. “Twenty-five, surfacing now!”

The hull of the U-boat emerged from the rocky waves; the long gray steel beast weathered the wrath of the ocean as four hatches opened. With an ear-shattering noise, four Surface to Air rockets were fired, shooting thousands of feet into the hair in seconds.

The crew of U-534 didn’t stick around, submerging once more and speeding off at full speed.

“O-3, report, did we hit?”

With bated breath, the crew waited for their scout’s report over the wireless. One minute passed, then two. Finally, on minute three, his announcement came.

“Target hit, and listing downward. Two of four hit, black smoke rising from cargo cruiser. Target disabled, repeat target disabled, they're going for an emergency landing.”

They didn’t celebrate, having hoped to score a kill, but Captain Lute was comforted by the fact the wounded ship would draw in others. With it in the water, it gave them something to hit later.

Riss wasn’t a glory hog either, he knew his single U-boat would not be enough to take out the repair ship and its escort.

“Call for a Wolfpack, we’re going hunting, send our location to U-65 and U-198, tell them to wait for my signal.”

“Roger that, they can make rendezvous in two hours.”

“Perfect, let us hope we can nab a big catch.” Riss proclaimed vigorously, eager for the chance to hunt more prey.


“Let’s rip out their throats, boys, and girls!” Colonel Titania Von Blunt rallied her elite unit against their Prench and Hispania counterparts.

The Holy Survivantes and Calaveras Inquisitors.

The term counterpart was a bit too generous in Titania’s opinion. Of course, she was biased in favor of her personally trained shock troopers.

The Survivantes and Calaveras were the elite of the enemy army. Prance and Hispania, respectively, each organization having roots in each country founding.

But were they the elite of the elite? The cream of the cream of the crop? No, they were merely elite soldiers, she and her unit where Elite Warriors. Born for battle, raised for action, and thirsty for a fight!

The stupid Calaveras, whose helmet was a full-face skull design, figured this out when Titania punched him in the face! Her booted hoof breaking his ornate helm, his jaw, and crushing his cheekbone into powder. In a hilarious slow-motion scene, Titania observed her victims’ eye floating past her in midair.

“Explosion spells!” She ordered.

With no further instructions, her detached company fired without hesitation, four powerful explosion erupted within the Calaveras unit, sending the heavily armed pegasus veering in every direction, in pieces.

“Vous Salauds!” The Survivantes screamed on the ground, shooting up a wall of multicolored magic missiles.

Time for mission details. The Calaveras were Hispania’s elite all-male pegasus force, their original equipment was a long lance, a round shield, and twin wing blades. Their heavy armor gave them mass and protection necessary to break fortified formations from a hundred years ago.

Now they were just slow out of date heroes of yesteryear.

The Survivantes were the opposite, a Prench all-female force of holy warrior maidens, trained in magic and raised to be fanatics. Their rabid fanaticism and flexible unit composition made them more dangerous than the Calaveras.

Their most significant drawback was their lack of a large flight unit. Only a few could fly, Paladins she thought they were called. Pegasus with magic items is all they were. Only one was an actual threat.

The Queen herself, D’Arcy, owned breastplate with magic wings attached to it, allowing the unicorn flight.

“What century does she think this is? A ruler fighting in pitched battle? How naïve.” Titania sneered at the Queen. Despising her for starting this fight and being reckless with the future of their nation.

If she were to fall in battle, then what? What would Prance-Hispania do with their final leader gone?

Titania shook her head, at least D’Arcy was making this as easy as it was with El Cid.

“Vile monster!” D’Arcy screamed, barreling down on Titania, ignoring all others. “For my beloved!”

Snorting, Titania took evasive actions, twisting and turning masterfully in the air, while D’Arcy gave chase. The Prench Queen’s movements not quite as refined.

(She probably only has me beat in magic.) Titania theorized while swooping and weaving between D’Arcy’s attacks.

Her metal horn popped and crackled as it clicked into place, Titania took a breath before firing an AP Magic Missile. The glowing gold blast blew through one, two, and then three ponies that tried to aid their leader.

“Tsk, a little more, and I could have gotten her too.”

“By my divine blood, I will slay you demon!” D’Arcy screamed, firing off four impressive blasts of magic the size of watermelons.

Titania weaved through them, engaging her wing blades, wishing she could be so wasteful with her magic. “Must be nice, being so blessed, life must be easy for you.” She grumbled, not particularly caring if the black and silver unicorn heard her or not.

“Still, though I think it more cursed, you’re not the only divine blood here.” Eyes glowing a goldish/orange, Titania felt a surge of magical heat spread throughout her body.

Gold fire danced on her horn and wings, her eyes ablaze with energy. Facing her down was D’Arcy’s blazing azure eyes, and wings, her horn a blade of plasma.

“DIE DEMON!”

“ROT IN HELL BITCH!”

The two Divine blooded clashed, their attack drawing the awe of all, the fighting stopped, just for a moment. Each side waiting to see who was the victor of the next level conflict.

“Colonel!” Zeppelin rushed into the sky, catching her small commander midair. Her Heinkel Model 89 was utterly destroyed beyond repair, overloaded by the clash.

Titania struggled to stay conscious, face a bloody mess, with one eye tightly closed. Keeping pressure on gash in her armor. “That bitch…” She mumbled, falling into the Zeppelin’s embrace.

With the Colonel unconscious, command fell to her. “We’re pulling out! Protect the Colonel at all costs!” Zeppelin snapped, taking off with her miniature commander tucked safety in her embrace.

Luckily, the enemy was unable to give chase, for D’Arcy was in no better shape. The black/silver unicorn howled to the cloud-covered sky; a long gash burned across her barrel. Half of her face covered with her blood.

“Next time, Demon! Next time!” She proclaimed. “NEXT TIME I’LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!”

When that next time would be was uncertain.


Germane Capital-the City square-Sometime later

“And that’s all the time I have today, children.” Kaiserin Chrissy declared to a crowd of adorable filly and colts who awed with disappointment as she closed makeshift book of newspaper articles, titled, ‘Tales of the Front, Our valent heroes’ triumphs.’

“But what about Colonel Blunt? Is she ok?” A filly asked.

“Yeah, did she make it back? Will she fight again?” A colt asked.

“Ok, ok, calm down, now.” Chrissy urged gently while smiling. “This is top secret, but if you promise to keep quiet, I’ll tell you what became of Colonel Titania.”

The children leaned in carefully.

“She’s recovering on a beach, impatiently waiting for her next chance to bring the vile D’Arcy to justice!” The children cheered! “But if you want her to recover faster, be sure to remember to tell your parents to buy bonds. As for you, little ones here’s some chocolate. Only Five copper bits, each one you buy, will pay for a soldier to enjoy out in the field!”

“Yay!” The children screamed with delight, quickly filling the lockbox next to the maid guarding the desired chocolates. Once the children dispersed for home, the ‘maid’ removed her headpiece, letting her glorious blonde hair fall down.

“You sure run a tight ship stepmother and can spin some tales. Just so you know, I’d prefer to still be on that beach.”

Chrissy waved off Titania’s comment, “Just mother is fine, Titania, don’t be so high strung. It’s all for the war effort, right?” She hummed pocketing the box of coppers and giving it to Titania. “Now don’t go and spend that on yourself, this is for your entire unit.” She tossed in a silver Bit with a wink. “But, of course, I have to throw in your allowance?”

Titania blushed, accepting the silver graciously, “Thank you, mother.”

“That’s my girl, now you get better soon. You are our ace in the hole.”

“Yes, mother, I know. I’ll use this cursed blood of mine to ensure your and father’s future.”

Chrissy wrapped a leg around her stepdaughter, “Oh, how sweet, but you should really stop thinking in such depressing terms. You’re going to be a big sister soon, you know?”

“Oh… I… congrats… I guess. Umm, what are you going to do about… you know?”

“Don’t sweat it, your father already has a solution in hoof,” Chrissy assured her as they took a turn towards the palace. Along the way, the Kaiserin procured a newspaper to read while they walked. “Hmm, what’s your opinion on this?”

Titania took the paper having to stop and read it without her Heinkel to levitate it. “Luna’s little project here? What does my opinion matter?”

Chrissy let out an annoyed hiss, “Stop it, your third in line to rule if your father or I was to suddenly die. Just give me a summary, no holding back now.”

“Sure, sure, you just have to make everything homework, huh?” Titania clicked her tongue at the news article. “Well normally I’d say it’s stupid to divide their country like this, but ironically war breaking out was probably the best thing for them and us. Equestria is dumping resources into the Everfree, keeping them from helping our enemies, and the war keeps any country from trying to attack with their armies tied up all over. I see they’re still trying to play Luna’s little kingdom off as a territory. Their media campaign is clever, slowly guiding their populace into accepting what will be a foreign nation without a fight.”

“Indeed, but what happens when things settle down? How does that affect us?” Chrissy pressed.

“I hope the war will be over before then, but I imagine if things are to drag on that long, Celestia will want to get involved whether she has to or not. I guess it depends if I can kill D’Arcy before then.”

This time Chrissy clucked her tongue, “With how easily you killed El Cid, I’m surprised this is taking so long.”

“That was a sneak attack at night mother, we killed him while he slept. I must admit I underestimated D’Arcy, she’s a very talented mage, fueled by rage, and out to kill me. She’s likely to get herself killed, but she’ll probably take me with her. I have a lot of magic, but I’m limited in how I can use it.”

“Yes, you managed to fry your Heinkel in your bout last month, but she’s still recovering too. Our engineers and your father are working around the clock on the next model. We probably won’t be able to mass-produce it, but I’m sure the next Horn and Wings will be a cut above even the Heinkel.”

Titania sighed, sitting on a bench to catch her breath, holding her side. “That stupid Prench unicorn got me in the ribs.” She complained, feeling the sore spot on her body. Her maid outfit covered the twenty-inch-long gash the Prench Queen gave her, along with a hundred stitches. “She carved halfway through my ribs, the doctors had to fill them with something or other to keep them together.”

The Kaiserin smiled softly, gently stroking her stepdaughter’s silky blond hair. “If I were able, I would go and kill that wrench myself.”

“I bet you could, you managed to take Celestia, right?”

“Only for a short while,” Chrissy pouted. “And I doubt I’ll be able to gather such a source of power again. It’s been rather humbling these last few… I suppose it’s been more than a year since then, maybe longer.”

Chrissy brought up her prosthetic leg, currently disguised as a real one. “I must say… I’ve grown used to them. I might actually miss them when my new body is done.”

“Yeah, about that? Are you still sure you want to do that? Soul jumping to a new body or whatever? What if something goes wrong?” Titania asked concerned, which Chrissy found sweet.

“Believe me, I’m not real excited about it either. The icky pink coloring earns no favors with me, but your father went through the trouble. Besides, it would be nice to have another ace in the hole? We put so much pressure on you.”

“I’m fine. Honestly, you two don’t need to worry about me.” Titania replied embarrassedly. “You’ve done so much, both Father and you. Father took me in after my mom died, and you were kind to me. You didn’t have to be.”

“Oh, look at you, acting so cute! I should take a picture to show Hades, it will surely help with his stress, not that I’m not taking care of that every night.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to hear that.”

“You’re twenty, don’t tell me you don’t have some piece of candy tucked away. Its Zeppelin isn’t it, you like her, right?”

“Well, she is fun to tease off duty… and on duty. I wouldn’t mind forming a herd with her or just keeping her to myself.”

“That’s my girl! Go get her, tame that plucky tight ass!”

“Ok, we’re getting out of the public eye before ponies realize you’re a lewd old mare.”

“I prefer experienced love maker,” Chrissy chided with a hotly upturned nose. “Now come on, let’s get home to lunch and then bed for you. Nice try with the maid outfit though, its funny more ponies don’t realize it’s you.”

“No pony pays attention to the maids, at least those that don’t have a maid fetish do,” Titania said, resuming the walk back home. She was supposed to stay in bed to recover with only light exercise, i.e., walking. And only so far.

She had snuck out and hiked nearly across the entire city to ease her restlessness, before running into Chrissy at the plaza, where she had to sit through story time with the Kaiserin.

“I’ll have to get stronger, if I can’t beat D’Arcy, then I’m no match against Celestia.”

Chrissy snorted, “You’ve got a card to play against Celestia, I say worry more about Luna.”

Titania’s mood soured further as she thought of the Sun Princess, her lips reverberating in an angry growl. “Yeah, I hope to give her if only a little bit of what she deserves.”

“Well, you just might get your chance one day,” Chrissy remarked listlessly, looking at the cloudy sky overhead. “I’d prefer if you didn’t have too.”

“What was that mother? You were speaking too softly.”

“Nothing dear, nothing. Let’s go home.”

Author's Note:

Von is a old German noble title, that could bestowed or earned for a generation, but could not be inherited by one's children. It's something like that, I read it, and am just going off the top of my head right now.

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