• Published 20th Nov 2017
  • 3,589 Views, 1,748 Comments

The Last Migration - Starscribe



When disaster forces the fierce griffins to seek shelter in Equestrian land, can two very different societies coexist? Or will the ancient enemies tear each other apart?

  • ...
28
 1,748
 3,589

PreviousChapters Next
Chapter 21: Celestia

The next few hours of travel were less eventful for Velar than he would have expected. Once the doctor had arrived and inspected his wounds, Starlight explained that she would take some much-needed rest. She would return here once they arrived in Canterlot, to help with his transfer to the hospital there.

“How long am I going to be like this?” he asked, to the pony he trusted, not the doctor.

Starlight only shrugged. “I’ve never seen someone get a bullet in the chest before. Not until the doctors say it’s safe for you to move around. I know they put in two-dozen thaumic sutures to hold your gut together—that’s more than if you’d had open-heart surgery.”

“Heart surgery. You mean… killed?” Velar couldn’t quite comprehend what she was implying. Heart wounds were fatal, he knew that.

“No, it’s…” Starlight struggled for words, the same way she often did whenever she had something that radically separated their cultures to try and explain. “Well, sometimes a foal’s heart isn’t shaped right. Sometimes older ponies have trouble with their hearts. An open-heart surgery is when doctors cut the pony open, then stop the heart so they can work on it. They use a complicated spell to keep the pony’s blood moving… and you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

Velar was indeed staring at her with incredulity, but not because he hadn’t heard her. “There’s no way. I know that Equestrian ponies are capable of magic, but that… that’s impossible. You couldn’t cut someone to the heart and expect them to survive.”

“That’s what your necromancer said about healing your shot to the stomach,” Starlight answered, a little of her old wit returning to her voice. “But here you are.”

“We can heal it just fine,” he argued. “It’s just… there’s a price. A price I wasn’t willing to pay. I appreciate the old magic, but I was raised in house Virtue. There’s no virtue in asking someone else to die for me.”


Starlight looked away from him. It looked like she was on the edge of tears, though Velar couldn’t imagine why. “No, there isn’t. You did the right thing.” She left, then.

Velar got a few more visitors in the next few days. Mostly doctors and nurses. They would wash him, or feed him, or check on his bandages, and be surprisingly polite about the whole thing. He caught a few dark remarks about necromancy here and there, generally mixed with whispered praise for having refused it. He learned from one nurse that it had been a matter of some pride for the surgeon, who had worked for no less than twenty-two straight hours sewing his insides back up.

Velar asked to see the stallion to thank him in person, as was the virtuous thing to do. Eventually the unicorn arrived—almost as tall as a griffon but probably a forth the weight, looking like not enough pony stretched over too many bones. “I owe you a debt of blood,” Velar said, as soon as he arrived. “For your service to me and house Velar. I intend to repay.”

The doctor, Stables, shook his head incredulously. “If you want to pay me back, when you go back to that city, you can tell the other barbarians that we aren’t living in the dark ages anymore. Tell them they can keep their blood in their bodies and still get the treatment they need.” He left without much else exchanged between them, leaving Velar dissatisfied. That was insufficient repayment, to be sure. He would have to find some other way—something to give to the doctor or at least Equestria in general worth the weight of an heir’s life. His father would probably know the way.

But Velar couldn’t get in touch with him. The mail service, like everything else between Equestria and Accipio, had been suspended until every remaining pony in griffon territory was released. Where Starlight Glimmer had been polite and understanding, Princess Celestia was ruthless and absolute. She required nothing less than submission on the matter of her subjects. Velar wondered what her demands had been, wondered what his royal parents would do, but he could not ask.

That left him in a difficult position in more ways than that, and he knew it. Technically, griffons were being required to return to the territory they’d been given, and would not be able to leave again until they proved that they personally owned no pony slaves. Velar owned nothing personally, but his house must have owned thousands of slaves. Some of them were bound to be ponies. He knew of a few pegasus messengers that his father employed to deliver the most urgent communication between his generals. Their ability to do so even through the most dangerous weather made them even better for it than griffon messengers would be.

And now they weren’t going to be allowed in his household anymore, because some Equestrian princess who didn’t understand their ways thought an arbitrary word on the end of their name meant they weren’t respected? The ponies were so ignorant it infuriated him. They were so powerful—they could apparently even repair a damaged heart without killing the one who suffered—yet they didn’t understand the most basic way to tie a society together.

He even tried to explain it to Starlight Glimmer when she next came to visit, using much more detail and patience than he ever had before. It was a subject not suited for polite conversation, but they’d long since gone beyond that.

“Look—being called a slave is just another way for a non-relative to have a place in a great house. A pony who lived in Accipio alone could be a freeman, but that would mean no representation in big decisions, no protection from new laws, no ability to do business with most of the houses that would be their best clients.

“So he could join one of those houses—sell himself and his services. Suddenly he’d be represented. He’d have a lord to look out for his interests, to protect him from unfair laws, to negotiate contracts with other clients. If you forced us to free him, his life would get worse, not better. I know you’re well-meaning… but you haven’t thought about what you’re asking for will actually do.”

Starlight Glimmer had been unmoved. “Maybe there are some like that,” she said. “But are you telling me every slave in Accipio likes where they are? Are you really going to say the ones mucking gutters and digging ditches want to be there?”

The answer to that question was obvious, and they both knew it. It wasn’t an argument he could win.

The Stalwart Stratus stopped more than once, though no one would tell Velar why or how long it would be until they arrived. He could see guards outside his door, too—they weren’t standing right outside, but they were always visible, always within reach. The ponies who watched him did so as though they were afraid he might change his mind and try to fight his way out at any moment.

He didn’t, obviously. They hadn’t broken the treaty—neither side had, though the ponies seemed to have some disagreement on that point. So far as he knew, his father had no intention of breaking it either. When they gave their word, that was the end. Ponies were strange creatures—to Velar, finding out whether a prisoner was going to try and escape was as simple as asking them. If they wouldn’t answer, or said that they would, you guarded them. Otherwise, you could save resources and they could save face.

Even a house Vengeance bird could be trusted to keep their word, so far as the words they used. Manipulating you into thinking they had promised more than they actually did, however…

Are we any better? We basically did that to Equestria to stop from giving up our pony slaves.

After a few more days and a few more stops, Velar got his first visitor who wasn’t a doctor or Starlight Glimmer.

She entered completely unannounced, without fanfare or guards. Princess Celestia strode through his door, flanked by a few frightened-looking soldiers who were soon shut on the other side. Princess Celestia hadn’t brought anyone with her. No advisors, no guards.

It was a very griffon thing to do, and Velar found he instantly respected her for it. What kind of weakling would need guards to see a bird who had been stitched together by magic and still owed you a life debt? Not Princess Celestia.

Velar tried to sit up in his bed, or at least look a little more respectable. He couldn’t sit up—even if he wasn’t tied down anymore, he was still weak. Motion that was too sudden was very likely to tear something.

Princess Celestia saw his attempt, and raised a dismissive wing. “No need, Prince Velar. I understand the injuries you have suffered. The greatest respect you can give me is to tell the truth.”

“I always do that,” he said, without malice. “There’s no virtue in deception. A lie warps the world we live in, and eventually warps the one who tells it. Only what is true is virtuous.” He didn’t bother correcting her about his name—ponies seemed to need their titles. It would probably be easier for her if she thought he had one too.

Princess Celestia didn’t say anything to that, not for a long time. Eventually she sat back on her haunches, sighing deeply. “It is a shame we have come to this. I had hoped—your father seemed so determined for peace. He seemed determined to cooperate with Equestria. This is the story Starlight Glimmer told me.”

“It’s the truth!” he exclaimed, without hesitation. “We’ve followed all of your instructions! We’ve done everything we could to make sure the treaty was implemented faithfully!”

Princess Celestia glared at him. “You promised me the truth, Velar. Yet already you say things I know cannot be true. You did not implement the treaty faithfully—you tricked us into accepting something that Equestria simply can’t abide. We were so concerned with supervising the climate that we neglected the weakest and most defenseless members of our species. This is a mistake we intend to correct, promptly.

“I fear you may need to go to war for it, Princess,” Velar said, his voice as flat as anything else he’d said so far. It wasn’t a threat. “The citizens of Accipio have already given up the majority of their wealth. For many families, a single slave would be all they owned. The result of many years of struggling and saving. Asking a family like mine to give up one slave in fifty is nothing. But what if that slave is all they have?”

Princess Celestia was as unmoved as he was. “War is something Equestria does not desire. But we refuse to accept this condition for our ponies. Our society protects its members.” She met his eyes with a glare. “We have already suspended trade with all griffon territory, and recalled every pony working there. We have sent back every griffon who was visiting Equestria. Will these measures be sufficient to convince your father to part with his slaves?”

Velar shook his head. “You could march into his house and ask him to give up one of its rooms, and you would have more success.”

“That’s what you expected of us,” Celestia replied. “Equestria gave you what you asked. We wish to resolve this peacefully, if we can. A war is something neither side can afford. Every laborer who is killing isn’t growing food, and harvests are slim. How many slaves do you think there are, across all griffon territory?”

Velar thought about it. “Perhaps… ten thousand. In each of the clans’ territory. Four times that across every city.”

“Forty thousand,” Princess Celestia repeated, looking away. “It is a good thing my subjects do not know of this. They would not give me the choice of war, Velar. I don’t think griffons appreciate how unacceptable this is. I know from Starlight Glimmer that you are wiser than you seem, or at least your family is. Find me a way to prevent a war.”

“Buy them?” Velar suggested.

The Equestrian princess turned away from him, obviously frustrated. “We considered that. But your prices for slaves aren’t based on the market, they’re arbitrary. Apparently chosen to make it impossible for any of them to earn their freedom. Buying that many would cost more than a city. Even if we had the gold in all the treasuries of Equestria, more than that would starve as a result. It is not possible.”

Velar shook his head. “You asked for the truth, Princess of Equestria. I tell you the truth—the great houses will not give up their slaves for nothing. If you want them that badly, you must take them. It is the only way.”

PreviousChapters Next