Rally and Recover: 2 - Day and Night
Dear readers—
I wish it known that this entry marks an anniversary of sorts. The release of this latest chapter comes two years to the day after I was first approached by Princess Celestia and asked to tell my story.
‘Tis certain I was very reluctant, not wishing to relive painful memories nor wishing my story to once again overshadow those of my comrades, who were every bit as deserving of accolade as many consider me, and sometimes more. But she was persistent, and in the end, I relented.
‘Tis worth noting that what finally swayed me was not a desire to have the spotlight on me, but to turn that spotlight on others. To make sure that all our stories are known and remembered; to make sure that ponies born after the war know the struggle and sacrifice that occurred within it—on both sides of the battle lines.
In this, I believe I have succeeded, telling the story of not just myself but all my fellow Bolt Knights, and deserving others like Father, Gavian, and Ambassador Kaval as well. The latter has promised that he has found some more gryphons willing to chronicle the Imperial side of the war, and they will be heard from going forward. But for now, ‘tis time to introduce three new perspectives to this tale, from several races that would be both revered and reviled in the course of the campaign.
—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Military History and Tactics Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot
As we make the turn from the first day of the war into the main campaign, the former ending with the destruction of the bulk of Equestria’s border defenses and the latter commencing the rapid and unrelenting Imperial advance on Canterlot, there are still other perspectives which must yet be heard.
The purpose of this chapter, therefore, is to introduce readers to three individuals and races who would figure prominently in the conflict to come. All had different priorities and reasons for choosing the sides and taking the actions they did, and though their societies and traditions might seem odd or alien by the standards of pony and gryphon alike, ‘tis certain that their role in this conflict should neither be ignored nor denigrated.
To that end, ‘tis time to begin the story of our bat-pony brethren, as told by two then-minor figures who would, in time, ascend to great heights in their respective societies.
Thank you, Captain. You are, as you have always been, a great friend to our race and nation, and ‘tis my honor and pleasure to take up the pen for the first time in this tale.
Greetings to all readers from the fourth and oft-reviled pony tribe. I am Viceroy Europa Universalis, Thestralslovkia’s head of state. ‘Tis by the invitation of Captain Firefly, extended to me through my friend and fellow Emissary Fell Flight, that I offer up my own recollections of the great conflict for the first time.
For those who are unaware, I am a Nightborne thestral—in overly-simple terms, a dark-furred bat-pony—and the current leader of the Nightborne nation. But at the time of the war’s outbreak, I was but a lowly and barely adult aide to Viceroy Chardonnay, our then-head of state. Our role in the war is now well-known, but not so much all that led to it. Thus, at the request of the High Emissary and with the acquiescence of the Lunar Council itself, ‘tis time to tell our side of the tale.
What you will shortly read comes from a preserved transcript I wrote the first night of the war of a Lunar Council meeting I was present for, when the news of the invasion arrived. As you will soon see, the matters discussed were not idle ones, as we faced our gravest choices and challenges since the days of Nightmare Moon herself.
Signed,
— Europa Universalis
Viceroy
Hollow Shades
Thestralslovakia
Lunar Council Chambers
Hollow Shades
Thestralslovakia
September 2nd, 1139 AL [Anno Lunae]
There were times during these oft-boring meetings of the Lunar Council that issues of great import were discussed. There were also instances of raised voices and demands to duel. Rarely, however, were the matters discussed so potentially dire as the news that night, and ‘twas all my pen could do to keep up with their debate.
Word had reached us at dusk from our outlying trading posts of the Gryphon Empire’s invasion of Equestria, and with their initial apparent success and our nearest borders only a few hundred miles away from theirs, we had to decide—quickly—what we were going to do about it.
Unfortunately, consensus amongst the councilbats proved as elusive as ever, at a time ‘twas certain we would need a united front should either side come calling.
“For now, methinks we should do nothing!” insisted Primrose Plum, the Minister of Agriculture, whose duties included managing both our oft-meager crops—we did our best, but earth ponies we simply were not—and the cattle trade. “Nothing except see which side gains the upper wing—methinks to commit to either side now would be foalish! We must wait to see who is winning! Then and only then should we consider who to cast our lot with so we may dine at the victor’s table!”
“That may not be possible, Primrose,” countered Minister of the Treasury Lord Shiraz, whose grape-growing and winemaking family had amassed a considerable fortune. “’Tis certain that before long, both sides will wish to enlist our aid! Perchance you wouldst explain what we should do when both Celestia and the gryphons send emissaries to us, seeking alliance and soldiers?”
“We tell them no! The gryphons are not our enemies, but we owe them nothing! And Celestia can rot in Tartarus for what she did to us after Luna’s fall!” the Interior Minister in charge of land and wild game management all but snarled, baring her pointed teeth.
Viceroy Chardonnay then offered up a more calmly-delivered point, as he so oft did. “The Nightmare. Not Luna,” he corrected softly in the very dim firegem lit-chamber, slitted eyes glowing with their reflected light around the table. “Luna fell to the Nightmare. And then we fell into her thrall, losing everything.”
Primrose Plum gave a scoffing sound. “Believe what you wish, Viceroy, but it changes nothing! We are under no obligation to join either side! We pay tribute to stay out of Celestia’s conflicts! Methinks she can manage without us!”
“And suppose they do not take no for an answer?” the Viceroy pointed out patiently. “You presume they would allow us to sit out the war. What if they do not? What if Celestia demands our service? Our agreement keeps us out of offensive wars, but there are provisions in our treaty for calling us to arms if Equestria is under attack!” he reminded us all, then held up a hoof at the shouts of protest that erupted to indicate he wasn’t done yet.
“Nor is Celestia the only concern here. Treaty or no, the question must be asked if ‘tis even possible for us to remain neutral with the war so close to our borders. What if the gryphons decide we are just another pony with different looking wings and thus an enemy to be fought? These questions must be considered this night, fellow Nightborne,” he reminded us, causing the chamber to fall silent until a new figure finally spoke.
“I agree with you, Viceroy,” called out Small Talk, our mare Minister of State, who managed our trading outposts and was one of the few thestrals who would go abroad to visit Canterlot when Celestia called, as she typically did once a year. “Your low opinion of the Sun Princess is unfair, Primrose. She has treated me—and us—nothing but honorably. Our weather is managed deftly by their pegasus weather teams and I find their diplomatic liaison very respectful, to say nothing of Celestia herself.
“”Tis certain we owe Equestria our continued existence, not just as a race but as a nation! Or perchance you have forgotten that instead of exiling us entirely, she ceded us these lands and granted us autonomy within them?”
“For a yearly ransom in taxes, yes!” Shiraz brought her hoof down hard upon the table. “We pay her tribute and she deigns to leave us some lakewater and a few other scraps to fight with the Lightborne over!” she said with a sneer, speaking in reference to Lake Luna, the large northern lake which Cloudsdale filled every fall, and our less numerous light-furred cousins, the Lightborne thestrals, or ‘Highborne’ as they called themselves.
We were not on good terms with the latter and hadn’t been for centuries; there was little love lost between us, methinks, as even going back to Luna’s time we had vied for her favor and had been perfectly willing to undermine the other to get it.
“And for it, we are masters of our own affairs,” Small Talk replied as evenly and diplomatically as ever. “It may behoof us to consider what should happen to her favor if we decline to aid her despite our treaty commitments, and then she wins the war anyway. She may see that as a betrayal to be punished and order our lands seized. And methinks I would be hard pressed to explain why she would not be justified in doing so.”
That only brought about another scoffing sound. “You say that as if we would make that easy for her, or the Equestrian military would be in any shape to fight us after the gryphons,” pointed out General Starry Skies, the leader of the Nightborne Army, also referred to as the Army of the Night in remembrance of its long-ago service to Luna. “If they elect to invade us, they will sorely regret it!”
“Oh? And what of the gryphons themselves?” Small Talk challenged. “What if they come south into our lands?”
“Why would they?” came the dismissive response from the General. “Look at a map, Minister—their most direct route to Canterlot is between the Lunar Sea and the Foal Mountains, safely away from us! And from a purely military point of view, methinks they would not want to antagonize a neutral nation on the flank of their advance. Particularly not one with such a prime defensive position, protected by mountain ranges as we are.”
“And suppose they worry that we might not stay neutral? Suppose they decide a potential threat on the flank of their advance cannot be tolerated, prime defensive position or no? Suppose they treat us as just another race of ponies to conquer, Starry Skies?” Viceroy Chardonnay mused aloud. “What then?”
“Then let them come!” Starry Skies stated with surety, baring his teeth in a predatory grin. “If they are so foalish as to choose a war with us, then so much the better! They know nothing of us or how we fight; only the Equestrians! They know not the terror they face should they challenge us! We will then defeat their invasion on our own, at which point, we can dictate terms to not only them, but to all Equestria!” He flared his large wings proudly in what some ponies found an intimidating display.
“Hear me out, fellow thestrals! Think of what we might gain! Having saved her precious ponies, Celestia will have no choice but to give us whatever we want! We can then gain true independence and dominion over all our lands! The Lunar Republic of our former and future queen will be reborn! At long last, we will no longer be tied to a nation and princess whose subjects despise us! Our destiny will be ours and ours alone!” he claimed, causing an eruption of approving calls and wingclaps from the assembled representatives.
Far from being reassured, Small Talk stared at him in disbelief before rubbing her eyes with a hoof. “Really. Then tell me, oh overconfident General—what will we do when they send even a third of their reported hundred thousand-strong invasion force at us? What will we do when your sixteen thousand soldiers suddenly find themselves facing six or more gryphon legions backed by mages and heavy weapons? How will we defeat such overwhelming numbers, particularly when they quickly learn that they can neutralize almost all our advantages by fighting us during the day, if they do not already know?”
Starry Skies gave her a contemptuous sneer. “Perchance you should stick to your tea parties with the ponies, as you clearly know nothing of military affairs! Do you really think we have not considered the question of daytime fighting, Madam Minister of State? That we have not made great strides in addressing such weaknesses in the past three hundred years?” he asked haughtily. “Do you truly think we do not have contingencies and battle plans to deal with an invasion? Or that my sixteen thousand regulars is all we have at our disposal?”
“An invasion from Celestia, yes! Not from the Gryphon Empire, who can dwarf our numbers and fight at night almost as well as us!” For one of the few times since I had known her, Small Talk raised her voice. “I say we cannot stay neutral in this conflict! I say we throw our lot in with Celestia here and now!”
“Traitor!” came the cry from Councilor Corvis, one of thirteen representatives from our outlying towns and villages; his voice heard clearly over the shouts of outrage and betrayal that erupted. “I knew you were soft, but ‘twould seem your time with the ponies has addled your mind! Even with our beloved Queen in exile, we serve the Moon, not the Sun! If we truly want independence, methinks the quickest way to gain it is to ally with the gryphons! Our aid would ensure their victory over Celestia and then they would grant us all we desire afterwards!”
“How dare you…” Small Talk flared her bat-wings and lowered her head, hissing sharply through bared teeth as she pawed at the ground angrily with her hoof. “Your hatred of Celestia blinds you! I say she is not the threat here! The gryphons are! You wouldst repeat the mistakes of the past and for it, condemn us all to exile or worse!”
“I dare, you pony-loving apostate! And I say ‘twas not a mistake to ally with the Nightmare then! And ‘tis not a mistake to join with the gryphons now!”
At that point, the Viceroy’s gavel came down repeatedly, silencing both sides of the debate. “Enough! Methinks this bickering is pointless, and ‘tis certain I prefer not to see blood spilled on the council floor in a duel this night! For such grave matters as we face, whatever we decide must be agreed to by all! And to carry out the council’s decision will require all! Is that clear?” Viceroy Chardonnay glared at Corvis and Small Talk in turn.
“Yes, Viceroy,” the pair mumbled, returning to their seats, but not without a parting glower.
“Good. Passions are running understandably high right now, so mayhap ‘twould be best for me to offer my own observations into this debate.” Though normally content to let the councilbats argue things out, he saw fit to take direct control here, and speaking for myself, I was very glad he did.
“First and foremost, your point is well taken, Shiraz, that before too long, both sides will come seeking our aid. So we must have our responses prepared before that, as well as contingencies readied for all eventualities, including potential military ones. And second, we do not yet know the Empire’s intentions towards us, and ‘tis hard to plan without that knowledge. Until then, methinks it prudent to mobilize our forces and be ready to repel an incursion from either side…”
His voice trailed off as a messenger mare entered through a roof window and landed before him, not bothering with the usual formalities of giving her dispatch to an orderly who would then ring a bell to read it aloud. She bowed low, apologizing profusely for the breach of protocol, but saying simply that her ‘message could not wait’, offering the Viceroy a scroll.
He read it, his expression going from surprised to worried to uncertain in the space of several seconds. Watching this, the rest of the gathering, myself included, noted his sudden change of demeanor and fell quiet, knowing that anything that disturbed our normally unflappable leader boded ill.
“My lord?” Shiraz called out. “What is it?”
The Viceroy carefully schooled his expression before speaking again. “‘Twould appear, my fellow councilbats, that the decision to take sides might be forced upon us far sooner than we would wish,” he began grimly.
“What do you mean?” Starry Skies asked for us all.
“I mean that I have just received word that Cloudsdale has been sighted over our northern border just west of Lake Luna, General. They have been attacked by the Gryphons, suffering severe casualties. Fleeing the Imperial advance, they are now requesting our aid and sanctuary within our lands…”
Thank you for sharing this, Viceroy. ‘Tis an excellent insight into the difficult questions and choices facing the Nightborne that first night of war, and a reminder to all that the thestrals were—and are—no more of a single mind about various matters than other ponies, doubly so facing such grave decisions as these.
For those disposed to think ill of the thestrals for actively considering whether to ally with Equestria’s adversaries, I would remind them that ultimately, they were responsible to their own citizens and borders first, and had to consider what was in their best interests before deciding how to act. Even those who advocated joining the Gryphon war against Equestria were doing so on that basis, not out of any desire for personal power or gain.
But the Nightborne were categorically not the only thestral race or faction in play. For the bat-ponies had their own internal schism that would play a prominent role in the events to come… as I believe you can all too readily attest, Barrel Rider?
—Firefly
Indeed, Captain. ‘Twas very interesting to hear matters from the Nightborne perspective laid out so concisely. It’s darkly humorous to think that even as our more numerous dark-hued cousins sought to break away from Equestria, ‘twould be my fate as messenger to trigger a Highborne seperatist revolt from within Thestralslovakia itself.
Sadly, my name is far less impressive than what one might expect from a stallion of my reputation: Barrel Rider. I’m not particularly tall or good-looking either, in case you were wondering.
Whilst my distant Highborne relations in Star City are named for the stars and cosmic wonders of the Twisting Nether, I was born in Gryphon Lands and spent my life on the road, moving caravans of trade goods all over the world with my family. As such, I was named for my habit of riding atop the barrels of goods stacked up on our cart as a young colt.
I’ve traveled Zebreca, Saddle Arabia, Mexicolt, and Aresia. I’ve even had dealings with the Avians and Maregolians. I’ve seen all manner of magic and heard the wisdom of many powerful beings, learned from the wisest of philosophers, and just plain old-fashioned crazies who nonetheless had a good point now and then. I can safely say that, with all due respect to the sincere beliefs of my orthodox kinfolk, my importance and magnificence isn’t on the level of a nebula, star, or planet — not even a dwarf planet!
—Barrel Rider
Chairbat of the Board of Governors
Central Bank of Thestralslovakia
You don’t give yourself enough credit, Barry. I find you quite impressive! Though, whilst I respect that you have a difference of opinion about our race and our mission in the world, surely you’re not going to make this all about you?
—High Priestess of the Stars, Juniper VII Neptune
I was getting to you, Your Radiance, I swear! Firefly asked for me to introduce myself and so I did. And as for you, I was saving the best for last.
—Barrel Rider
You’re such a sweetheart! I do hope you won’t make me look too bad for the part I played in my tale, for I was acting in what I thought to be the best interests of our race. Be that as it may, I leave the final word to you. I must monitor the cosmic energies of the Nether for such is my duty until the Stars deem fit to summon our people home.
—High Priestess of the Stars, Juniper VII Neptune
The Temple of Karabor
Star City
Thestralslovakia
September 3rd, 1139 AL (Anno Lunae)
In my introduction I presented myself as a business bat, a trader. And that’s still mostly true. But I’ve found over the years that what creatures really want is stuff they aren’t supposed to have: close-held information and contraband.
To put it plainly, I was a smuggler, an expediter, a fence. I’d given up on the life of a merchant once I’d reached stallionhood and went to work for a very different sort of family, though still of blood relation. In the service of the Honorable Lady Lacerae’s colony, I was posted to New Eagleland to help expedite grain and poppies from Equestria to help feed and… entertain the gryphon colonists.
Life was good and relatively easy compared to fencing gems out of Neighrobi, Zebreca which I had the misfortune of doing for some time. Too easy, in fact. The family decided ‘twas time to send me ‘home’, with an official sealed document of the Gryphon Empire to give to Star City’s High Priestess and sovereign ruler, one passed to me by an Imperial agent with the cover of a more reputable merchant.
A document that ‘twas certain to get me killed if ‘twas discovered in my possession.
‘Tis certain that was the least of my worries as I stood before the Great Temple of the Cosmos; a massive complex built of whitewashed stone and poplar topped by a great circular dome of stained glass etched with arcane symbols. The colors and symbols meant nothing in particular to me, being non-magical as I am. Only those of the Leucistic Order, those blessed from birth with unicorn horns, could influence the infinite powers of the Nether; ponies call them Thestralcorns.
I may not be a learned mage but I knew the huge pillar of glowing purple fog filtering in through the top of the dome wasn’t normal. I had a mental image of being fried by a death ray as soon as I stepped inside.
A blue-cloaked thestralcorn stallion cleared his throat delicately, pulling my attention away from the unnatural sight. “Sir Barry, inside please! Neptune isn’t in the habit of being kept waiting by the rabble. Say your peace and pray she finds you worth her time.” His expression told me he knew at least enough about me that he was praying for the death ray option, as he wouldn’t even give me eye contact.
At this point, methinks I really wasn’t in the mood for being talked down to by somebat I saw as a magical mutant. “I beg your pardon, habibi. It’s just you don’t see a place like this everyday, ya know?”
“Well you don’t, clearly!” The priest turned up his nose at me.
I grunted at him by way of reply and made to walk through the door, but I was stopped by a projected force field from the priest.
“Before entering, be warned that your unsavory deeds are known to us, Traveler. And for it, know that if you dare attempt to defile these sacred mysteries whilst you are here, you will never leave. Keep that in mind…” A compelling force then pushed me through the open door and slammed it behind me, leaving me in semi-darkness.
“Stuck-up mutant freak… Who did I tick off to end up having to come here?” I muttered to myself as my eyes instantly adjusted to the darkened room which, I could see clearly now, was an antechamber of sorts. Portraits of horned thestrals lined the walls; the High Priestesses who called the Temple their home. Opposite the door to the courtyard stood a table featuring a pair of elaborate brass candle holders lit in observation of certain holy days, I’d had it explained to me once. They held not one but multiple sticks, but I noted the wicks were pristine, having never been used.
Above the table, a huge painting of a beautiful and somehow unnerving pale thestral gazed imperiously down upon me, a smirk etched across her face. I recognized her as the first High Priestess, Juniper Tree; a psychotic witch — I know some are willing to excuse her for her intentions, but it’s true — who nearly got my entire race killed during the Lunar Rebellion in the name of preserving it for all eternity.
It struck me immediately how odd ‘twas to be inside of a small art gallery set in nearly pitch blackness. Combined with the chill in the air and the faces of so many austere, humorless horned faces looking down on me, it made the already confined space that much more oppressive.
I trudged forward, unwilling to prolong my discomfort any longer than was necessary.
I have to give the designers of the Temple credit. If ‘twasn’t for the length of carpet covering the way I was meant to walk, I might not have found the proper path for some time in the darkened chamber. The wall opened up on either side of the portrait of Juniper Tree into a single hallway lined with open doors on each side; the carpet splitting into two paths around the stone wall.
The temple interior, as best as I could tell, was designed for defense against an attacker as any creature coming through would be funneled through a blind hallway before facing the defenders. I marveled and shook my head at the architect’s paranoia, but couldn’t help but wonder if it was justified.
I heard a gentle sucking sound all around me and felt a rush of chilling air which seemed to pour from each doorway I passed, channeled into the hallway as the wooden supports above me groaned slightly. I felt panic rising in me as the air seemed to thin out ever more with each step. There were no other thestrals inside the temple with me to give me company, tell me everything was alright and explain to me why the gatekeeper outside had been such an arrogant goat.
I thought of going back out to look for him in a moment of desperation, as an arrogant goat was better than this! But I remembered my mission and pushed on. The hallway at this point was at least lit by torchlight but their flames sputtered and waved furtively onward the deeper inside the bowels of the ancient bastion I went.
I gave brief notice to the details of each individual room as I passed but saw many ancient scrolls, books, relics of various sorts, and more hallways leading to what I’d guessed were living quarters. My sense of unease grew at the sight of so much unoccupied space. Why in the name of Arcturus had seemingly everybat abandoned the holiest shrine in all of Highbornedom?
And then suddenly, I stopped. A wall of force pushed me away as I tried to reach the end of the hall.
The way is closed to you but be not afraid, wanderer. I flinched hard when a mare’s voice spoke, as if she were a whisper inside my mind.
“H-Hello?” I spoke aloud to the empty hall.
There’s no reason to fear, wanderer, for I am with you. The way is shut and it’s not safe to enter my chamber at this time. The kiss of the void is fatal to all who enter it. If you wish to observe my holy task, you may go up the stairs to your right and look inside from there… She spoke serenely, seemingly unconcerned by such small matters as her own health and well-being. I ask for merely a moment longer before we can speak properly. I’ll be waiting...
At that moment, I’d found myself unable to speak at all as my mouth had turned to sand. I looked towards the stairs and, taking a moment to gather myself, ascended to the room above.
What I found wasn’t a room but rather a large balcony designed for at least fifty thestral occupants. Behind the balcony, twelve torches lit the room which trembled at the magical presence that filled the entire temple; a clear glass dome covered me all-around like I was a ship in a bottle. I cried out in fear as I gazed up towards the roof of the massive dome and saw our moon, our stars and sun all in their proper place in the Summer Sky.
The perspective rotated around the center of the room where my host took court, standing on a glowing pink and purple crystal pillar. Her eyes were closed; her expression peaceful as a scarlet jet of magic from her unicorn-like horn penetrated the infinite blackness into a rotating, semi-translucent and roiling purple mass of what looked like magical energy. Her blonde mane and loose-fitting robes whipped furiously behind her as if she were caught in a high wind. I could see stars glimmering faintly behind the cloud leaving me even more confused as to my perspective of events.
You have come and seen with your own eyes the glory of our Cosmos. Tell me, my weary and wayward traveler, what is on your mind at this moment?
I watched in horror as the torches, each standing one alongside the other went out one by one. “That I should have stayed home!” I shouted as I trembled on the floor.
Her mirthful laughter filled my consciousness. You are afraid. That’s good! Every Highborne must learn their place in the order of existence. ‘Tis appointed for us to die just as the lesser races do. But our destiny as Highborne is to harness this vast emptiness. To gain wisdom and power from its ancient creative magicks. And once we’ve finally succeeded, to ensure our own ascension and that of our offspring.
‘Twas nothing I hadn’t heard before from other thestrals who followed the arcane and oft-indecipherable Highborne Orthodox faith, but to see such ideas demonstrated so graphically? Methinks ‘twas a wonder I hadn’t fainted yet!
It is to this end you’ve sought me out, unbeliever or not in our racial destiny. Such is the will of the Cosmos that every creature shall bear the message of its glorious truth… in one way or another! As she spoke, I could feel that awful emptiness around me, creeping slowly into my cage of glass and stone and tugging at my chest. I felt the pressure in my ears begin to build as her silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity until, quite unexpectedly, the vision of the stars began to fade, the pillar of scarlet fire separating itself from Juniper Neptune’s magical grasp, retreating up through the hole in the temple dome.
I felt welcome warmth against my membrane wings and turned around to see the torches had come back to life. All across Juniper’s inner sanctum, the glow of magic was replaced by the natural light of torches, though the vast pillar on which she stood still radiated powerfully with a violet hue. She opened her eyes, colorless save for her pupils and looked down on me, expressionless.
I swallowed hard and reached into my saddlebag. “R-right! To the issue at hoof.” It felt weird talking to some creature who wasn’t even in the same room as me, but as I’d just seen her effortlessly channel the Cosmos, it probably wasn’t an issue for her. I held up a scroll against the glass. “High Priestess, I have been sent by my benefactors in the Gryphon Empire with an offer of alliance. In short, they promise to guarantee our ancient claims to Thestralslovakia in exchange for our assistance in their war against Equestria!”
I felt a tugging on my entire body and my vision went black, followed by the sensation of being squeezed through someplace uncomfortably tight. When I could see again, I was floating high above the floor on the other side of the glass inside the chamber with her, held in her field of levitation. She seemingly took no notice of me or my screaming in terror as she casually read through the scroll I’d had in my possession before banishing the missive in a puff of smoke. “An emissary of the Gryphons… You’ve done well for yourself, Sir Barrel Rider! And for it, I shall offer you due respect!”
She gently placed me down next to her on the pillar in the center of the room. On the one hoof I wasn’t in danger of falling, on the other… I looked up at the powerful thestral who stood a foot taller than me at the withers, her delicate spiral horn still aglow with her violet aura. She nickered gently and smiled. “You look so tense, traveler! Be at ease—you are among your own kind here, and your offerings do please me. Is something bothering you?”
Well aside from being dragged around the reins, nearly asphyxiated to death, and scared within an inch of my life, there was the matter of impending war she was in no way reacting to but I decided not to press my luck. ’Tis rude in most cultures to press one’s host, I knew from long experience of many nations and cultures, and if that host be a priestess… “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting a happy meeting with you, Your Radiance.” I went on to explain my cold reception from the priest at the entrance of the inner temple.
Juniper gave a friendly laugh. “Be not offended. Hyperion is a strong and capable priest—a powerful magus, loyal to me and steadfast in his duty. If he weren’t a stallion, I’d consider him for succession when I’m one day called by the heavenly host to ascend to the stars.”
I was about to shake my head but caught myself. I’d heard tales of some of the High Priestesses ascending into the heavens after being called home by our Cosmic Overlords, but no solid evidence of such feats existed. In any case, the Ascended made no attempt to return home after leaving, making me suspect the legend was conceived as a way of adding legitimacy to the priestly class.
“If I had one complaint about him, he’s a bit slow to accept travelers such as yourself into our colony,” Juniper continued, leaving me to my thoughts. “He mistrusts the Highborne who’ve gone off to live among other creatures and assimilated to their culture. I disagree with his rather… hardline stance but I respect his views just as I respect yours, Barrel Rider.” She gave me a knowing wink.
I winced sharply. “My views, Priestess?”
Juniper gave me a look both sly and apologetic. “Yours is not a difficult mind to read, I’m afraid…”
“Oof…” I grinned back at her sheepishly. “Well, you’re not the first to tell me that!”
Juniper shook her head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Tell me, Barry. May I call you Barry?”
I nodded in the affirmative—for what else could I say?
Her smile gave way to a look of intense interest. “You know the gryphons better than just about anyone living in Star City. You’ve lived long enough among them to gain their trust. As an emissary of the Gryphon Empire and potential future ally, what do you make of them as a race?”
I’d rehearsed this scenario in my mind and was more comfortable in this moment than I’d been at any point since entering the Inner Temple. “The Gryphons are strong and proud, well versed in warfare and in a position to easily overpower all resistance that stand in their way from ponies and Nightborne alike. As we speak, an army a quarter of a million strong prepare to march on Equestria the likes of which no creature has ever seen. They believe that ‘tis their fate to rule over this continent just as we believe ‘tis our fate to rule all of Thestralslovakia.”
“Curious then they do not simply crush us along with our lesser pony brethren. But they have sent you all this way to tell us of their impending attack. Such information doesn’t come cheap.” Juniper held up a hoof for silence and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Their invitation to help us was written in very flattering prose. They say all the right things, but I don’t believe for a moment that the gryphons mean any of it given their hegemonic ambitions. ‘Tis no doubt in my mind they would turn on us once Equestria is under their wings,” she mused idly, though there was no hint of anger or fear in her voice at such a future betrayal.
“Then… we are to decline their offer?” I asked cautiously, my heart stopping for a moment, fearful for what that meant for me as their erstwhile ambassador.
To my surprise and relief, she smiled warmly at me. “Not at all. For even such a brutish race as theirs is practical when it comes to using basic tools. So long as our race offers something important to the gryphons they cannot possess themselves, then ‘tis certain we have nothing to fear from them.” Juniper lit her horn, causing the crystal pillar to react by glowing brighter. “If you think about it, that is why you are standing before me today.”
I wasn’t sure I did as I arched an eyebrow at her. “But, Your Radiance, I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me. I’m not magical and I’m not convinced that any of what you teach is actually true. Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but my many travels have taught me that our world is full of magic and magical creatures, of which you are but one of many.” I frowned, looking down at her hooves to avoid meeting her glance, feeling guilty for admitting my thoughts to this surprisingly sweet-natured mare responsible for keeping the faith of so many. “You flatter me, but in truth, there is nothing remotely special about me. I’m nothing more than just another thestral among many.”
She lifted my head with her crystal-shoed hoof and gazed into my eyes. I’d felt a tinge of unease looking upon her pale coat, unicorn horn and unnatural height, but at that moment, as I beheld her peaceful and serene features, she’d seemed less a living weapon created by dark magic and more the leader of the Highborne race she’d been chosen to be.
“My dear Barrel Rider, your lack of faith is the only thing holding you back from greater understanding. What I will reiterate for you at this point is that the cosmos can and will use any creature it chooses to demonstrate the truth to all things, even an unbeliever or the heathens of the East.” She released me from her grip, leaving the spot on my face she touched feeling strangely lonely afterwards.
“As it pleases you, Your Radiance.” I bowed my head and extended my wings out to my side in a show of contrition. “Then with your permission, I shall return with word of our acceptance to the gryphons?”
“I grant it. And for it, we may consider our business for today completed. I will have a formal response to the Gryphon offer prepared by this evening, so you may rest today and then set out with it again at dusk. But tarry not in your task. I may have further need of you very soon.”
The High Priestess then launched a beam of magical energy into the sky which burst into an explosion of light like a Romane candle. “Events have been set in motion which will convince even a skeptic such as yourself of our special destiny. And when they are done, ‘tis our sacred Highborne race—and not the gryphons or Nightborne—who will become the true sovereigns of this land.”
I would believe it when I saw it, but thought it best not to voice that sentiment out loud.
My sincerest thanks to both of you. ‘Twas an excellent introduction to both sides of the Nightborne/Highborne thestral divide, and one that would figure quite prominently in the weeks and months ahead.
It had been my intention to end this chapter here, but I recently received a letter from a very unlikely source, asking for their story to be heard in this tale as well. After due consideration, and a consult with the Equestrian Intelligence Service, I have decided to do so, for there is no denying their contributions to this conflict.
Indeed, Equestria owes their very existence to this secretive race, for without their warning, ‘tis certain we would have been crushed by the full-strength Imperial war machine in a matter of weeks.
—Firefly
Salutations, readers. My name is Lycovenato, but I believe most Equestrians would remember me by my pony name, Bramble Tracker.
I answer to both, though as my late father would always tell me, “A name means nothing on the battlefield.” ‘Tis a statement that, as grim as it sounds, cannot be more true in the heat of conflict. Whether officers or enlisted, whether Talons or Knights… ‘tis certain your identity only holds weight to those who know the face behind the helmet and bloodstains, and when you’re fighting for your life, one does not usually have the luxury to stop and study their foe when parrying a strike or planting a blade in a stomach.
This saying holds an even greater meaning for my kind. For you see, dear readers, I am a changeling. One of the few who not only sided with Equestria during the conflict, but fought for her directly in the guise of a pony. ‘Twas not an easy feat to maintain my cover for all those years, but I did so.
As those in my profession will oft agree, a good disguise is one that not only looks convincing, but is expressed in a convincing manner. Whenever a changeling dons the face of a pony, gryphon, or another creature, we must not only look like, but become that creature. We must take on that creature’s story and personality. To fail at this risks suspicion, and suspicion can lead to capture or worse.
However, in this lies great danger. For stay disguised long enough, and one might find themselves forgetting who they are, becoming lost in their alternate identity. On the battlefield, this is doubly difficult for my kind, for you can succumb to the violence and become the very thing you had vowed to fight against, forget the purpose of you risking your life in the first place…
But, forgive me, I digress. With your indulgence, Captain, I shall start my story now, properly…
—Sergeant Lycovenato “Bramble Tracker” (ret.)
Lepidoptes Hive Intelligence Division
Reconnaissance and Espionage Operations
(Formerly) Squad leader, 3rd Pathfinder Battalion, Equestrian Army
First, let me start by saying that I had yet to see my twenty-fifth winter when the war broke out between Equestria and the Gryphon Empire.
At the time, I was living in a humble village just a day’s march north of the Imperial capital of Mosclaw, working as a hunter and fisherbeing to make ends meet.
Yes, Changelings will hunt, given our predatory past. I have also been given permission from my hive’s leading authorities to state that our diet is not unlike those of omnivores, as although we cannot survive without love, it alone is not sufficient to our bodies’ needs; we require certain other nutrients no less than any other organic being. I was actually born in Equestria, and had spent most of my youth in the pony lands. My mother died from illness shortly after my birth, however, so I have no strong memories of her and only the stories my father would share with me.
I was told she was a spy by trade, working for the Lepidoptes Hive, and had met my father when they were both young. My father was a soldier and scout who had spent most of his life moving from town to town, never staying in one place for very long until he and my mother married. With my mother’s death, my father had taken it upon himself to teach me all he knew about the lands he visited in his younger days, and he showed me how to be self-sufficient.
One of the first things I learned rather quickly was how to hunt and move silently under my father’s tutelage. He taught me methods for tracking prey, how to skin animals to make hides, and how to properly cook them, both for myself and for possibly trading with the local villagers. He also taught me the value of maintaining a good cover. He taught me how to avoid detection by blending in. For almost twenty years we were the only family we had, and once I was old enough to make the journey with him, we both set out for the Gryphon Empire, where hunting was more respected and we could better apply our skills for money and other necessities.
We rarely crossed paths with other changelings, more often than not they were agents of the queen who wished to speak with my father and exchange information. Our hive had long taken the stance of a peaceful, secretive existence among the world’s other races, so those who served as agents, like my mother and father, were often required to spend years, if not most of their lives, separated from the hive whilst gathering intelligence and knowledge to share.
Some had even taken to calling changelings such as my parents “independents”, though this term is perhaps not the most accurate. Ultimately, they served the Lepidoptes Hive, more or less exclusively to be exact. The same, methinks, could be said for me.
Whilst my father was mostly retired from active service, he still served in a limited capacity, providing information and speaking to the occasional changeling that would seek him out. So, naturally, he taught me what he had learned in his years as a soldier as well. To this day, I do not know if he was attempting to groom me into a potential agent for my hive, but regardless, I enjoyed my time growing up under his care.
Unfortunately, my father fell ill as well during an especially harsh winter, and as the love he needed was hard to find in a winter wasteland, he ended up dying in his sleep. I spent the next five years alone, living off of what the land provided and making ends meet. I rarely spoke to the other gryphons in my village, and I suppose they didn’t mind my reclusiveness in turn. ‘Twas lonesome, true, but ‘twas also what I was familiar with.
That all changed, however, when I chanced upon meeting a lovely changeling female by the name of Plexippa Lepidoptes. At the time, the gravity of such a name was unknown to me, though I blame my father for this lack of knowledge. Whilst he was gifted in many things, he lacked the common sense in teaching me the names of the Hive’s royal family line.
A few gestures and hidden signals quickly brought to light that she was not just a changeling, but an important one who would forever change my life.
She was, by all accounts, a rather unassuming female, albeit with a confident demeanor and an athletic build for one her size that spoke of rigorous training. Whilst she lacked the air of a warrior, I could tell she was someone who could defend herself if the need arose.
I locked the door to my small cabin and pulled the drapes across my windows to keep the odd onlooker from listening in—one could never be too careful in Gryphon lands, where the Office of Owls had an uncanny ability to surveil their own subjects and find out things they didn’t want others to know. After we both shed our gryphon disguises, I probed the ambient magic of the cabin and felt reassurance in the privacy wards that crossed my horn’s senses.
“We are free to speak, now,” I began with a nod. “It’s rare to see a member of my hive out here, so I imagine you must be here to see me for something of import?” I made my way to my kitchen space and placed a dry log into the cooling embers of my wood burning stove. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of indulgences, but I’ll have a pot of Zebrican coffee boiling in a bit if you want. Shouldn’t take too long, the stove is still warm from breakfast this morning.”
“Coffee?” she echoed, her ears perking up in interest. “However did you find coffee this far from the zebra lands?”
I nodded. “It’s a dark roast that I was gifted from a hive traveler that recently returned from Zebrica about two months ago. The coffee is still fresh thanks to some preservation magic.” I looked over my shoulder to her, “You said that you’re here on Queen Scylla’s behalf?”
She gave a nod whilst taking a seat on a log chair, taking a moment to get comfortable before speaking, “Yes, my mother informed me that your parents were both gifted agents in their time. Your mother served as a spy whilst your father once served as a soldier in my mother’s army before taking on a less demanding role as an agent.”
I blinked, the kettle hovering in my magic as I slowly turned to face her. “I… forgive me, I must have misheard you. Did you say ‘your mother’s army’?” I set down the kettle and turned to face her fully.
She simply tilted her head to the side and gave me a small smile. “Oh? I apologize; I’ve been told I can be rather quiet at times when I first meet new folks.”
I narrowed my eyes a little. She gave off genuine honesty, curiosity, and… amusement?
“Is something wrong, Lycovenato?” she asked, her smile growing a bit as she recognized my confusion.
“You must be joking, lest you’re implying you’re the daughter of the queen, which would be ludicrous. ‘Tis certain no queen would ever let a member of the royal family go off into the gryphon countryside without an escort.” I frowned as she let out a snicker. “I’m sorry, but what is so funny?”
“Forgive me,” she began, raising a placating hoof as my frown deepened, “my mother had warned me that you might not be too used to other changelings, living in such a remote area of the Empire, but I had no idea you were unaware of who I am.” She giggled a bit when I quirked an eyeridge. “Allow me to introduce myself a bit more formally then: I am Plexippa Lepidoptes, fifteenth daughter of Her Majesty, Scylla Lepidoptes IV.” With that, she bowed low in royal greeting.
“I see…” I studied her closely, looking for any hint of deceit. No tension in the shoulders. Ears upright, alert, and facing forward. She was smiling in a manner that reached her eyes, which were currently meeting my own, leaving me to reach one rather disquieting conclusion. “Suppose I were to believe this. Then perchance you wouldst answer why Her Majesty sees fit to send her daughter out alone into a clearly dangerous land, just to speak to the son of two retired changeling agents who are one with the World Soul and Hive Mother again?”
“It does seem strange, doesn’t it?” she replied with another laugh. “My mother was against me becoming a scout for the hive at first, but I managed to convince her with the help of my elder sister and brother.” She turned her attention to a saddlebag she had been carrying. With a flare of her horn, a scroll was pulled out. She channeled some magic into the rolled sheet of parchment, which gave off a faint blue hue of its own before she unfurled it.
“A concealment spell?” I said aloud, recognizing the magic she had used.
“Indeed,” she confirmed with a nod. “‘Twould be an issue were a curious gryphon Talon or, Hive Mother forbid, a member of the Office of Owls, to learn of our plans, so proper measures must be taken.” She hoofed the scroll to me as she added, “Any who do not know the spell would have only read some poorly written poetry authored by a young Talon eagless stationed in the capital and bored out of her mind, yearning for some dashing tiercel to dominate her in a round and sweep her away from a life of monotony and eventless patrolling.”
“...truly?” I couldn’t help but raise an eyeridge.
“Well, I’ve mostly based it on my time as a scout patrolling the hive’s borders, if I’m to be honest.” She puffed out her chest as she went on, “In a few months I shall be given an assignment in the capital, however! That will no doubt be far more exciting! Can you imagine? I may even be able to learn some secrets of the Owls, or perhaps uncover some conspiracy to assassinate the Empress!” She clopped her forehooves together as she giggled, the gravity of her new task or the scenario she spun lost on her. “Truly there is excitement in store for me when I am stationed in Mosclaw! Methinks anything is better than patrolling the dull halls of our hive!”
“A true spy never wishes for excitement in their line of work. Excitement can cause issues,” I noted as I opened up the scroll, only to catch myself. “Forgive me, I… I mean no disrespect, Your Highness, but that—”
“Oh, come now, don’t digress to formalities now,” she frowned for the first time since arriving. “I signed on as a scout to escape that. Out here, I am not a princess. So please, simply call me Plexippa.”
“...very well, Plexippa.” I cleared my throat. “As I was saying, a true spy would wish to avoid any chaos or excitement in their line of work. Excitement can lead to rash decision-making, and rash decisions can lead to an Owl interrogation or a Raven blade slashing open your throat.”
“Bah, you’re as stuffy as my Sergeant was back in training,” she waved away my warning dismissively with a hoof. “I am well aware of the risks, I’ll have you know. You cannot blame me for wanting some excitement and thrills in my life after being coddled so long by mother and sequestered within the halls of her hive, can you?”
My eyeridge raised even higher. “I tend to enjoy calm and quiet, personally. It’s harder to hunt when it’s loud.”
Her ears perked in turn. “Oh? You hunt?”
I nodded. “Mostly for myself, but I do some trading in town when game is more plentiful. Mostly grouse, pheasant, and the occasional flying boar if I’m lucky. On rare occasions I might take down a young roc or black bear.”
Her eyes lit up in a manner I would come to enjoy in the weeks to come as she leaned forward and asked, “Please, will you show me how you hunt?”
Plexippa lived with me for the next three months whilst awaiting further orders from Her Majesty via encrypted crystal communications.
For those of you curious, I am afraid I am not at liberty to divulge the contents of the scroll that she had given me, but methinks its content is a moot point, as you shall learn shortly.
I will admit, Plexippa’s company was refreshing and, if I may be allowed to wax poetic, breathed life into my monotonous and isolated existence. Before her, there was mostly grays and little else. Her soul splashed color that I had forgotten about onto my life, and helped me see the world in a new way. Where once it had been routine, ‘twas now spontaneous and passionate.
She sought out experiences, and wished to learn new things. She was at times reckless in her desire for fun, but Hive Mother preserve me, she quickly wormed her way into my heart. She was but a few moons older than I, and was the first changeling around my age that I had ever befriended. Methinks the same was true for her as well, for in time we had become… close.
Your Majesty, should you read this, know that I had grown to love your daughter in our short time together. She had a heart that was as vast as any ocean and a smile that was brighter than the sun itself. The Hive Mother truly loved her, for how else could one so beautiful be made so compassionate and willing to share her love with those around her?
It may have been due to living among gryphons so long, who are not as prone to sharing their emotions and opening themselves up, but it was all I could do to not be overwhelmed by her personality during our first weeks together. I know she had wrote to you about… our plans, but I still feel the desire to tell you as such now as well.
In the days before she left for her assignment in Mosclaw, we had made a promise that, after her mission was complete, she would return and we would announce our intent to marry each other before you, Your Majesty. I do not know if we were rushing things, but we were young and in love. Love does as it pleases, and ‘twould seem it had decided to entwine us both in its snare.
Sadly, as those of you who read the previous volume are likely aware, Plexippa would not return to me… or return to the hive, for that matter. Methinks her life ‘twas as brief as ‘twas bright, and to this day I feel like a part of me died that fateful August night.
Northeast of Mosclaw
Location Undisclosed
September 4th, 1139 AC (Year 305 of of Her Majesty Lepidoptes IV’s Reign)
0335 hours
I had awoken to the dark interior of my cabin and the sound of knocking on my door, light but urgent in tone. I took a moment to shake off the sleep before listening to the knocking again. A cadence of slow and rapid beats that I immediately recognized as the Lepidoptes Hive’s signal of military urgency reached my ears, and I was on my hooves and unlatching the door in seconds.
I was greeted by two stern looking gryphon hunters dressed in ragged furs. My cover’s eagle eyes studied them for several long moments. “Perchance I may ask why you are knocking at my door so damned early for?” My gryphon growl was not entirely forced.
“Apologies, sir, but we’ve received word of a timberwolf pack prowling the area and causing problems for some of the surrounding villages. We were hoping to speak with you about the forests nearby before we go out to hunt down the beasts. Some of the townsfolk suggested we seek you out.”
I shall merely state at this point that several gestures and a signal or three indicated they were members of the Lepidoptes Hive’s spy network, and that they had an urgent matter to discuss with me.
Grumbling in annoyance, I opened the door. “Very well. Then kindly come inside before it gets cold in here.”
As soon as they were inside and the door was latched, we dropped our disguises, revealing two changelings in light armor and wielding curved blades and longbows. I blinked in surprise as I noticed the faint, violet sheen to their barding, and immediately recognized their meaning. “Well. ‘Tis not everyday I’m paid a visit by the hive’s Silencers,” I noted idly, suddenly wondering if ‘twas myself they were here to silence.
Silencers were the hive’s elite warriors and assassins, trained to kill silently and efficiently. If rumors are to be believed, they are capable of taking on Ravens and Black Lances on a somewhat even playing field… though ‘tis certain an even playing field is far from ideal for any who specialize in assasination. Normally one would be uneasy, but I quickly realized that there was no intent of harm from them, given they would have slain me the instant the door was closed otherwise. So either they were passing through and knew of my cabin as a safe haven… or had important news that could only be trusted by the best of the best.
“Good evening, Lyconvenato. Unfortunately, our reasons for visiting here so late are far from pleasant, but… ‘twas Her Majesty’s request to inform you of the recent events.”
“Recent events…?” I echoed, sensing the slightest ripple of unease in the elite assassin’s emotions. It gave me worry, for if something was bad enough to make a trained killer upset… how would I deal with this news?
The second assassin spoke up in reply, “‘Tis our duty to inform you that Princess Plexippa Lepidoptes died whilst in Equestrian lands. We learned this but hours ago thanks to our informants in the Equestrian military… though it had happened a few days prior before last month’s end. ‘Twould seem she… accomplished her mission of procuring gryphon plans and bringing them to pony hooves, but ‘twould also seem it came at the cost of her life. The ponies report she had been gravely wounded by her gryphon pursuers; we believe them to be Ravens.”
He took a moment to let me take in the news. It may have been seconds, it may have been a dozen minutes, perchance even an hour. I do not know, but eventually I nodded in understanding, even if I wasn’t entirely sure I could believe it, finding myself suddenly shaky, sitting back on my haunches heavily and releasing a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
When I finally met his gaze again, he continued, “Her Majesty is making preparations for the Hive to assist Equestria and is spreading the word throughout her spy network. She was aware of your connection to her daughter, and felt it important to tell you. You were also among our list of contacts, since you’ve lived in both Equestria and the Empire throughout your life.”
‘Twas all I could do at that point to process what he had said. I was staring into the floor of my cabin, my mind still trying and failing to process the news of my beloved’s death whilst a cold pit formed in my chest.
“I… see…” Was all I could say in response to this. My voice was numb and my features impassive, but my insides were a cacophony of emotions that any changeling could sense.
Recognizing this, the two Silencers glanced at each other before speaking again. “We are aware this is… difficult news for you. We are also aware that you have no official position in the military and are serving only as an agent and contact for the hive, but Her Majesty has an assignment that she believes may suit you… if you believe yourself to be capable,” the first agent continued, his tone mercifully gentle.
“I’m afraid that even at this early date, the war is off to a rough start for Equestria. Her border defenses have been shattered and the entire population of Canterlot is more or less being held hostage by the Kalator dragon clan, so Princess Celestia is unable to aid her army without sacrificing her capital and all within it in the process.”
At this point, I knew not what this had to do with me, and did not much care, my mind still reeling. For if Plexippa was truly dead, then what purpose was there for me now?
I had no one left.
Nevertheless, the elite assassins went on. “‘Tis our hope we can get a team in to smuggle supplies, although ‘twill take considerable time. There’s supposedly an underground cavern that connects to the older parts of Canterlot Castle, but our intelligence is uncertain on this.” The second Silencer said with a grimace. “From what we can gather, Princess Plexippa forced the gryphons to push their invasion forward before they were ready, lest they have Equestria waiting to counter them.
“And thus, the ponies barely had time to prepare any amount of defense. Even forced to launch early, the Empire’s Prelate, Salvio Gaius, planned this invasion well. He has caught most of Equestria flat-hooved and has Diamond Dogs and a powerful dragon clan backing him, even with half his army not yet arrived in theatre.”
All this was only distantly processed by me; at that moment, all I could think to ask was: “And… what does this have to do with me?”
The two exchanged another look before one of them dug out a scroll from between the folds of their barding. “Your previous instructions given to you by Her Highness, Princess Plexippa, are no longer in effect. Consider these your new orders, but only if you feel you are capable of carrying them out. Queen Scylla has made it clear she wishes not to throw lives so carelessly into this conflict when our intelligence is wanting.”
I unfurled the document, which bore the Royal Crest of Lepidoptes, and read it over silently.
Greetings Lycovenato, Son of Odonaetta and Clavulus,
I am saddened that my first time writing to you was because of such a loss in our mutual lives.
I first wish to extend my deepest sympathies to you, my dear changeling. I am well aware of my daughter’s wishes to marry you, and whilst I have yet to meet you myself, my beloved Plexippa had told me nothing but wonderful things about you in the few months she was living with you.
Know that whilst I grieve for the loss of my daughter, I understand that you too are in pain right now as well. Plexippa clearly saw something in you that she loved, and I cannot help but trust her.
However, you will have to forgive me; time is of the essence, and grieving will have to wait, at least for now. By now you are no doubt aware of the war Equestria faces. Given the current situation and the conflict, I believe a task you are suited for has come to mind.
Your knowledge of Equestria, as well as the Empire, might very well help us aid in this war between the ponies and gryphons—a war that, for the sake of all Hives, the ponies must win. Whilst we do have the resources to spare for Equestria, unless we can properly navigate the current chaos whilst remaining undetected, the agents of the Hive risk sharing the same fate as my daughter, except they will likely be captured or slain before accomplishing anything.
We have confirmed that Equestrian Intelligence and Princess Celestia herself are aware of our desire to help, but I’m afraid that the number of ponies who know of us at present is small. As such, the risk of being seen as spies working for Equestria’s enemies is quite high. That is where you hopefully can assist.
For the sake of my lost daughter, I would request that you be among those who serve as my eyes and ears within Equestria, taking the guise of a pony or any other form necessary in order to both gather and pass intelligence, and even intervene directly in the conflict when called for.
I realize this will put you in grave danger, but whilst you have had no formal military training, what Pleixippa told me of your skills is nothing short of what I would expect of any scout. She has also commended your prowess with a bow, saying ‘tis on par with that of our best archers.
I know you are grieving, and I will not make this an order, but your assistance would be welcome and seen as homage to my daughter’s memory and mission. If you believe yourself capable of traveling to Equestria and providing the Hive—and Equestria itself—with much needed information and intelligence, then my agents will escort you to the main Hive where we will make an assessment on your abilities and see if you truly are prepared for this task.
If not, I wish you well, but please understand that I can no longer assist you should you need it, for all my resources must now be devoted to Equestria’s survival whilst simultaneously keeping our activities secret from the Office of Owls.
May we speak again, Lycovenato, and may the Hive Mother guide us all in these dark days ahead.
There was no physical signature, but the faint magical trace that ran across the scroll was unmistakable. Every changeling is able to recognize the magic of their queen, regardless of whether they have met her or not, and Queen Scylla Lepidoptes IV was no exception.
As I looked up from the letter to the two Silencers before me, a corner of the paper caught fire, a verdant flame of unnatural cause. I dropped it as the fire quickly spread across the scroll, eating away at it before it even touched the ground, leaving only a few smoldering ashes at my hooves.
“My apologies,” the first Silencer stated, the glow of his horn fading, “but the Office of Owls knows we stole their war plans and their agents are searching for us. Thus, we can leave no evidence of our activities.”
Understandable, and expected as far as the elite of Her Majesty’s military go. I gave a nod and looked to them both for a moment. “So… for the sake of her daughter, Her Majesty wishes for me to travel to Equestria and help the Lepidoptes Hive assist Celestia in the war,” I said, though ‘twas more a statement than a question. For I had already made up my mind, and it must have shown on my face.
The Silencers both shared a ghost of a smirk before the first replied, “So you’ll come with us, then?”
Before replying, I looked to my barren cabin. It had been my home for over a decade… but now, it carried the faintest echoes of her. What had once been solitude had become a suffocating prison, nothing more than an endless reminder of what I had lost without ever fully gaining it. And for it, I found that more than anything, I wished to be gone from the place.
“Yes. For the sake of my beloved and my own wounded heart, I will answer my Queen’s call. Allow me to pack some essentials and I’ll be ready,” I answered, and within a few minutes, I was exiting the cabin with my escort for the final time.
Mosclaw, and then Equestria, awaited me.
With apologies, Captain, I shall have to leave my story there for now. I’m trying to not let the emotions from recalling such events brought forth by the memory crystals overwhelm me; ‘twould seem even after all these years, some of the wounds I suffered never healed entirely.
Whilst heroes are often born in the midst of battle, I do not agree that there is anything glorious about war itself. Like you, I have seen the horrors of it firsthoof, and I can only pray to whatever gods may hear me that our world never experiences another conflict such as that between Equestria and the Empire again. Too many lives were lost, many belonging to my hive. In the end though, the war ended, and things have taken a turn for the better because of it.
Still… I often find myself, in the small hours of the night, seeing the faces of those I failed to save and those I had taken the lives of. I can only imagine that many more who fought that terrible war experience something similar. ‘Tis the sad and ugly truth of war; that victory requires an enemy to be broken, and I can say with confidence that there are many, many ways to break an enemy.
I shall return the quill to you for now, Captain Firefly. If you find this to your liking, my story shall continue later, once I have managed to better collect my thoughts and find a way to put what happened during those bloody times onto paper. Thank you for allowing me a place to share my words, and be assured future entries will find their way into your hooves.
And try as they might, be assured that no, your EIS will not be able to trace them. With apologies to them, they are quite good, but we are simply better as stealth is our way of life.
—Sergeant Lycovenato “Bramble Tracker” (ret.)
Thank you for sharing, old friends and new. I did, in fact, meet Sergeant Bramble Tracker twice in the course of the war, having nary a clue who he actually was! As both the thestrals and changelings would all too swiftly get swept up in the maelstrom of war, ‘tis certain that I will be calling upon you all later, and before too long.
‘Tis often been said, and methinks not without good reason, that the ponies and gryphons are but two sides of the same coin. Herbivore and carnivore, predator and prey; peace-loving and warlike. But the lesson that neither of us fully learned until war’s end and perchance even after was that we were not, in fact, destined to conflict with, but complement each other.
Indeed, methinks if there is any lesson I took from the war and its aftermath, ‘tis that the nature of Harmony is not peace, but balance. Balance between the two sides and races that couldn’t be more different, but in the end, needed each other to be complete and help each other to reach their full potential.
And yet, that fact holds not just for us. ‘Twas ultimately the same for the ponies and thestrals with their day/night dichotomy. The strength of Equestria itself comes from the balance of three tribes, with the Princess herself as their avatar, and it also holds true for the thestrals with the Highborne/Nightborne rivalry.
And that, dear readers, is ultimately what made the old order untenable—not just for the gryphons and the ponies, but for the ponies and the thestrals, the Highborne and Nightborne, who all sought to supplant each other whilst not understanding that ultimately, they needed each other. Far too many fell in this conflict to learn that lesson, and, as the recent plot to restore the Empire shows, far too many still haven’t, seeking a false glory or imagined utopia that never actually existed.
But this, too, is why warriors will forever be needed; to guard and preserve that hard-won peace and knowledge from those would refuse to heed the lessons of the past. And to answer a question that was posed to me recently, that is why I continue to train and prepare the next generation of soldiers on both sides to ensure that they will be ready when—and not if—the need for warriors arises again.
—Firefly
“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.” —Thomas Jefferson
Two years to the day after the story launches, and 80 years to the day after the start of WWII (which conflict inspired this story and one it will, at times, reference) it continues with this worldbuilding chapter. It's been a fun story to work on for the most part, though I won't lie and say I've enjoyed all the effort it takes to make some of the graphics. But the end result is definitely worth it! I truly believe I've made something special here.
With the help of my prereaders and now, guest authors, that is! AJ_Aficionado and Denim_Blue both wrote a third or more of this chapter, penning the Highborne and Changeling parts of it. And for it, they—along with their characters—will both be heard from going forward to tell their sides of the story. Thanks goes as well to occasional contributer Leo Archon and prereader Silentwoodfire.
This is hopefully a worthy entry in the canon, and allows two of my best friends and fellow authors to incorporate their own thestral/changeling headcanon into it as well. So don't be surprised if they answer comments as well as me here!
PS: Those of you who haven’t done so already are invited to check out my latest story:
Inspired by the HBO series Chernobyl, it asks the following questions: what would happen if Celestia took Twilight to the site of the worst nuclear accident in history without telling her why or what happened there, wanting her to solve the mystery of what happened there based on available evidence? Why would she do this? And what lessons would she want Twilight to learn?
For what lessons could possibly be taken from such an awful place and accident that reflect well on humanity? It may sound like an odd idea, but I made it work and it’s been well-received. Give it a read if you haven’t already!
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This was a great chapter and it's interesting to see how other groups reacted to the conflict. It's clear that the batponies ended up with a civil war on top of the war with the gryphons which can't have helped the highborne/nightborne problems in the least. I'm confident that the names of the batponies are meaningfull since Europa Universalis and Barrel Rider can hardly be randomly chosen.
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Europa Universalis was Firesight's. It comes from one of my favorite PC games. It fit with the name theme I created for the thestrals so Firesight said what the hell, why not?
Barrel Rider is a reference to JRR Tolkein's "The Hobbit" in which Bilbo Baggins, when cornered by Smaug, riddles to the greedy dragon that he is "Barrel Rider". The riddle backfired though as Smaug was able to trace the wily hobbit back to the town he'd come from and it was subjected to an attack by Smaug.
Man those Highborne are pretentious. Barry seems like he'll be a nice POV character, though. I didn't think that there was a tribal division within the thestrals. It seems that simply no one who's narrated so far (barring Fell Flight herself who I don't think mentioned it?) knew about it.
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I'm glad you liked Barrel Rider! I promise you'll see more of him in the future and get some more backstory on the Highborne. They come off as pretentious but there's definitely more to them than we see here. I look forward to continuing the tale of the Highborne down the road.
Yaaay more perspectives!
Wiscoltson! Gotta love that name.
Dare I ask what forms of entertainment they had in mind?
Should be either foal or goat
The grammar here feels clunky. I know it could be improved, but I'm not sure how. It feels like an incomplete dependent clause, or like an additional dependent clause is needed to complete the thought. Either way, it feels incomplete.
heavily sitting back on my haunches and releasing a breath I hadn't known I was holding.
Unrelated note: Can a changeling mimic a dragon?
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You’ll have to ask AJA that one!
It was supposed to be foal, but I like the idea of ‘goat’ better, so I’ve changed it.
Fixed.
Fixed.
An adolescent maybe, but not a full-grown one. They can mimic bigger creatures, but I’ll say they can only increase their size to a point.
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In your headcannon can a changeling create portable love "batteries'? Or capacitors? External reserves in other words?
Enjoyed the updates. Been away for a while and this was nice to come back to.
Finaly we learn of your Changeling and there lore and part in the world
Must enjoyable read
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Found an old comment I hadn’t replied to. Good to have you back, and I hope you’ve been keeping up since.
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Not my Changelings. Their lore and that section were courtesy of departed author Denim_Blue, while the Highborne side of the tale came from AJ_Aficionado. In both their cases, I thought their headcanon and invented lore were too good not to include, so be sure you give both of them their due.