Piece of Parchment

by Metemponychosis

A Long Night

Griffonstone hung on an uneasy ceasefire. An uncomfortable truce that certainly wouldn’t have happened under normal circumstances. Northerner agents and local law enforcement, along with griffons from the Griffonian Standing Army agreed to not kill each other so they could lick their wounds. And perhaps try and understand who the enemy was in that mess.

It was Celestia’s presence and the way it always seemed to make the impossible happen. She called for hostilities to end and made compromises. Northerner agents would be detained respectfully while the non-combatants could leave via the teleporter.

Of course, the majority of the most important northerner agents fled, and why the griffonstonian northerner supporters were allowed to leave, only Celestia knew.

It was also the chaos which followed the mass desertions among the military. It came to a point where GSA soldiers weren’t sure who they were supposed to fight anymore. Most were willing to listen to the other side after so many had suddenly changed sides. Who was giving the orders? What even was the objective at that point when they realized they were fighting themselves?

Although a better word would be mutiny. The problem wasn’t which side they fought on. It was the leadership on the southerner side. They had agreed to stop fighting and allow the northerners to retreat despite High-Command ordering against it. Local law enforcers concluded the government didn’t pay enough to go against the military and the leadership was a jumble anyway. Not to mention the northerner leader was captured and promptly put under arrest after the Princess was done wiping the floor with her. It probably helped the situation that no one really knew who she was or what she was, but Celestia said she was important. It also helped griffons thought something palpable had come out of that mess because of her capture.

Maybe there was some logic to Celestia’s decisions.

The Blackfeather Division officers found themselves in a bad spot though. Details were sketchy, but some old general everyone had assumed dead or retired showed up and started pulling skeletons from inside the Blackfeather’s closet. Then there was Colonel Gaspar, one of the high-ranking officers from the fort. He went around town with a feathering megaphone and accompanied by his kid. Yelling at griffons not to hear the Chancellor’s lies as though he was the herald of doom.

General Gamaliel had had his rank and privileges stripped, his family’s honor tarnished, and their careers ruined because the old general decided something he did for the Blackfeathers was immoral. It involved a derailed train, with dozens of injured and dead griffonian citizens, a mother and a father who were murdered, and a lost griffon child vanished into thin air.

Soldiers didn’t appreciate hearing that one of their war heroes had been betrayed by the Blackfeather Division. They were secretive and generally disliked enough already. The reaction from the Blackfeather officers around town didn’t help either. Nobody bothered telling them griffonian soldiers had joined to defend the nation, not their obscure objectives. Perhaps there was still saving Griffonia, but anger at false terrorism accusations, murder of innocents, political persecution and all the crap the ‘shifty intelligence types’ do was a low bar to set.

On top of it all, more practical matters to deal with appeared as dawn was still off a couple of hours. Three bodies were still laying in the Chancellor’s room. It was an ugly and bloody sight. The room would be ruined for the foreseeable future and the problem was on Guylan’s paws, as he was the captain of the Chancellor’s Palace’s Garrison.

The night that should have been nice and calm turned into a mess. The chancellor wasn’t even in town. Two officers in high standing such as Colonels Gast and Gustav getting themselves killed while betraying their superiors rallied a lot of griffons to the side of The Lion. It also made the Chancellor’s supporters angry. Blackfeathers had panicked and some of them simply showed a level of contempt Guylan thought only occurred to over the top, straight up villains such as King Sombra.

“No.” The cute pink and turquoise hen wearing the black cap with a feather of the Blackfeather division glared at him. “They can’t take their bodies. I don’t care what they do to their dead thugs. Everyone ends in the same hole, anyway. The northerners and any supporter of theirs can rot on the streets for all I care. We’re carting them off to HQ.”

“What in Tartarus could you possibly gain?!” Guylan sat on his haunches and opened his green forelegs with frustration. “You’re just pissing off the northerners. For nothing!”

“This is the sort of thing they mean when they say something is above your pay, captain.” The hen frowned her blue eyes most annoyingly at him. “I suggest you move along and go bother yourself with something else. Something that sounds less dissentious.”

“What the feather? Dissentious? What’s going on?” The Blackfeather goons had already gone over the room. The blood and powder didn’t even smell anymore. They had even secured the northerner’s fancy, advanced weapons. Why did they need their bodies? Were those blockheads from Blackfeather going to do some sort of necromancy? Would they try to extract intelligence from the dead bodies? Or did they just keep the bodies from the northerners to piss them off? The illegality was blatant, and Guylan wasn’t sure which disgusted him more.

“What do you even care?” The hen insisted. “They’re not even actually northerners.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He slapped the side of his head. “Colonel Gustav was literally born on the northerner lands while Colonel Gast was married to a northerner from Griffindell. His kids are still alive.”

“Yeah. His kid.” The hen glared at him. “Tonight, he shot dead two militia guards and murdered a mercenary under the employ of the Griffonian Standing Army at the teleporter. In cold blood.”

Did she simply know more than he did, or had they reached a point she just made stuff up? He shook his head and scowled at her. “None of it is the point. His father is dead, and he has the right to bury him. His father. If the situation was reversed, we’d be fighting to get our dead soldiers home.”

“And speaking of dead soldiers,” neither his words nor his expression had any discernible effect on her. “These two left one of our boys dead on the alleyway inside a cart. In case you don’t see, the third body was one of ours! Doing his job, instead of betraying the nation.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore.” She pointed down the hallway to the lounge with the stairs while in near hysterical screeches. “Get lost or I swear I’m gonna turn this mess into your problem!”

“Fine! Fine.” He put up his paws. “I’m going.”

Walking out of the chancellor’s luxurious bedroom, he found himself in the corridor where a pair of young soldiers stood guard. Two shades of green and tan with white under the green uniform. Pretending they weren’t there, and Guylan couldn’t blame them. They wanted nothing with his fight and a Blackfeather could kill your career faster than Celestia eats a cake.

Guylan walked past them with barely a respectful nod and hurried steps. He had pushed his luck far enough. He wanted to help, but there was a limit to what he could do. Incredibly frustrating he had to fight his superiors for the decent thing of returning bodies to their families.

The skirmish had officially started in the hospital but had spread all over the city as northerner supporters tried to leave. The local militia and later military assets from Fort King Grover found them trying to leave. Stupid… Had they waited until morning, they would have been able to leave the city in throngs through mundane use of the teleporter. Something spooked them and, on the surface, it was likely Celestia’s arrival in town. Curious, to say the least. But Guylan didn’t want to get involved.

Though any griffon with two brain cells to rub together could figure it was good evidence more went on than The Lion’s bid for the throne. Mostly because Celestia supported him. It was not Celestia that had spooked them. At least not simply because she arrived, but they must have some secret they didn’t want her to know. Celestia not being an utter moron, probably knew it too.

Unfortunately, with the northerners’ attempt against the Chancellor, the Blackfeather Division’s informants jumped to action as soon as they heard reports of citizens scampering around the city.

It was either a very poor strategic decision, or, more likely, a panicked response to Celestia’s arrival. They had something to hide from her and that picked the Blackfeather Division’s interest. They too were desperate about something.

Guylan stopped in the middle of the stairs. Both sides had skeletons in the closet it seemed, and the night had become even more dangerous. The kind of danger that gets to the griffons who stay on the fence as much as the ones who chose the wrong side. Damn it all. He had only gotten involved because he wanted to give the northerner officers, traitors or no, a decent funeral.

He sighed deeply. When he enlisted nobody liked the present chancellor, not the ones who came after, but there was no threat of war or coup d’état. The smell of black powder still stung in the entry hall and most of the windows were shattered. Shards had sprinkled all over the rich floor and groundskeepers had started cleaning it all.

Speaking of the white alicorn princess, Guylan found Princess Celestia walking into the building as dawn out of time, shining hope upon his worries. Funny how she looked naked without her typical royal regalia, or even the magical armor of sunlight she wore in the fight. It mattered little at the time, though. She sidestepped the working griffons and broken glass with a worried countenance and ears limp from her head. She would be one to have things swirling around in her head in that situation. But she would share his worries about a decent burial for the dead griffons, so he stopped and raised his head to stand before her. “Princess. A word if I may.”

She stopped dead on her path, her ears perking forward, and her eyes focused with full attention. She even smiled at him. “You may, Captain. The night has been troublesome for you, has it not?”

He sighed and smiled at her too. “I didn’t expect any of this, Princess. But I suppose it is in my job description. I need your help with something.”

Just as he said it, another officer of the Griffonian Army entered. None other than Colonel Gaspar, the one who had effectively ended the fighting.

“Princess! Captain.” The tan uniformed griffon called upon entering, stopping to nod at Guylan and his salute. But he soon turned to the Princess again. “I have the information you requested, Princess. Colonel Gast’s children had already left through the teleporter when I returned. You should also know the mercenary killed their mother. Both her body and that of the community leader, Madam Gladys, have been teleported away for burial.”

As he talked, two griffonian soldiers entered too and rushed past them barely sparing the princess or Guylan a glance. They hurried up the stairs and left them talking to Colonel Gaspar.

“What of the mercenaries?” Celestia turned to him. “Mister Gaki and Fizzlepop Berrytwist?”

The colonel’s face contorted into a confused frown. “Who’s that?”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “The pony mercenary leader. Tempest Shadow…”

“Oh. The pony left too, and the mercenary was killed.” Gaspar made a blank expression.

“Really?” Celestia’s ears perked up. “Who killed him? And what of General Gamaliel?”

“Gamaliel has left too. We don’t know who killed the mercenary Gaki.” Gaspar told her, all professional coldness.

“Is that so? Regardless, I want Gamaliel’s story fully investigated. I shall summon a Justiciar and it would help if the GSA had already started their own investigation.” Celestia hummed. “What of the Blackfeather officers?”

“They escaped.” Gaspar retained his professional coldness.

“They escaped a platoon of Griffonian Soldiers?” Celestia shook her head. “How many soldiers had the teleporter facility secured again?”

Gaspar nodded coldly. “Blackfeather Division officers can be quite crafty, Princess.”

Guylan hated the heading the conversation had taken. When the bang of a firearm rang from the floor above, he already knew what he was going to see. Colonel Gaspar followed him as Celestia teleported ahead of them. The two griffons arrived to see the two soldiers that had arrived with the Colonel and the Blackfeather officer. Unsurprisingly, the two that stood guard before vanished, one of the soldiers had a bloody gash on his uniform, shoulder to chest. The other held a smoking wheellock pistol and the Blackfeather officer laid dead on the floor.

Yet another dead griffon on the luxurious floor of the Chancellor’s Palace. Shot on the head, and more blood staining the carpet.

“She refused to come with us.” The wounded one, black and white, with red on his green uniform covered his wound.

“I took her gun…” The other showed it. “She was going to shoot me, then she attacked him.”

Guylan’s blood froze as Celestia approached and fixed her frowning gaze on the dead hen. “I would congratulate you on your reflexes and aim, soldier. If we didn’t have a dead lady, less than half your combined size on the floor.”

“Guns are equalizers, princess.” The injured soldier wiped his bloody paw on his own uniform. “That is why we use them. It makes any griffon dangerous.”

“You said you took her weapon.” Celestia stared back at the soldier.

“She tried taking it back.” He matched her cold gaze.

“The princess is right, private.” Gaspar took the weapon from him. “There was no need for this. It is the very thing we are trying to avoid!”

Securing the weapon under his wing, he went on. “Captain, kindly escort these two to Fort King Grover and have them secured in the stockade. This manner of revanchism is not acceptable.”

The two soldiers simply shrugged and raised their paws, sitting on their haunches to signify they surrendered, but Guylan just blinked at the unfolding scene. Princess Celestia spoke. She did with such a serious frown it turned Guylan’s already freezing blood to sub-zero temperatures. “Colonel, I would prefer to keep myself to the charges of corruption against the Chancellor and his government. Without jeopardizing The Lion’s rise to the Throne of the Griffon King. However, I may be forced to become involved if certain things start happening. Things such as a fire on the Blackfeather Division headquarters. Or if Blackfeather and GSA high-command officers started suffering an unfortunate wave of accidents. If something of the sort happened, I would have to become involved in a deeper investigation of the events of this night.”

“Don’t worry, Princess.” Gaspar returned to his emotionless demeanor. “Unless the Blackfeathers have something other than their murderous black-tape games, I don’t think there is much that needs to disappear.”

“I understand Princess. I’ll have our loyal soldiers secure their headquarters and ensure they don’t try to destroy any evidence.” Gaspar concluded.

Celestia nodded half-heartedly at him before turning and walking away. Guylan watched as the princess vanished down the stairs in the lounge before he looked at the dead hen. He realized his life might be in danger, and Colonel Gaspar spoke to him, handing him the pistol. “What a night, eh son?”

Guylan stared at the weapons before he picked it from his paw and then at the griffon himself. “I… I wasn’t expecting History to happen right during my shift…”

“Neither did I. Or either of them.” Gaspar walked a couple of steps to be right in front of Guylan. “But it is one of those nights. Good griffons are suffering consequences from bad choices.”

“I don’t understand, Colonel.” Guylan shook his head, and his face made a puzzled sulk. “Celestia supports Lord Gilad’s claim. Not only to rule Griffonia but to reform the entire political system. Can’t we let her deal with the Blackfeathers, if they are on the side of the Chancellor?”

“Listen, kid…” Gaspar spoke slowly as he straightened Guylan’s uniform and the feathers on his crest. “I understand how you feel. I was surprised myself. Things aren’t going the way they should, and we are kind of scrambling to keep them on track. What you need to realize is that there is a bigger bird than The Lion in the tree. And all the little birds need to stay on their roost and sing the right song. Blackfeathers... They know things, and it is not about Gail. It’s bigger stuff. Things the big bird wants to keep away from equine ears. So, Blackfeathers are going to… Fall from the nest and whoever is quiet needs to start singing one song or another. Preferably the one the big bird likes.”

“Gee, sir…” Guylan cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “Sounds as though someone should make sure the Blackfeathers aren’t singing at all. Before the Princess starts listening.”

Gaspar closed the distance between them. “If anyone asks if you ‘can hear the storm’, tell them ‘I can hear Her Cry’. In the meantime, go to the Blackfeather HQ and grab everything under Operation Blacktalon. Make it vanish. Eat it if you have to. Don’t kill them but abscond with any Blackfeather you find. Somewhere away from the town. In different locations, if need be. Commit it all to memory and write nothing down. Someone will contact you again.”

Guylan just wanted to give those griffons a decent burial. He supposed the northerners would take care of it, after all. Now he needed to worry he didn’t need a burial.

***

One might think of her as a common criminal. Laying on the hard concrete floor, so bored out of her mind her thoughts turned to the privacy she enjoyed and the insistent desire to do naughty things. In the northerner prisons, at least, it was more fun because she could get a horny Sky Sentry applicant to watch. Maybe even join her. Everyone knew she was going to get out the next day anyway, so why not have fun?

Jails in the north were cold and soulless. Usually, an irregular and chilly stone floor with iron bars. A bed of moldy straw and a bucket that smelled of dejects. If you were lucky, you would get no window, because windows let in the merciless cold of Brokenhorn or Griffindell. Places even the northerners who liked the cold thought were too cold.

Pff… This ‘pony approved’ jail had a smooth cement floor and a too comfortable cot. It hurt Gwineth’s back. It had a window with bars, but a great view of a small plaza. She even had a small wall for the bathroom with an actual squatting toilet and a shower. It smelled too nice, almost like a hotel room.

Annoyed, bored, and unhappy, she missed all the comforts griffons showered her with wherever she went.

Ironically, she had never felt like that in a prison cell. She usually knew she was there because she had done something frowned upon. That stupid place probably confused her brain, or something. That was the problem… This cell was a bad hotel room, not jail.

She let out a bored sigh.

Griffonstone, as most cities in the Equestrian Federation, had a building which served as headquarters for the local law enforcement, namely the Local Militia. Their resources varied with the population numbers, according to the guidelines stipulated by the Royal House. Such came from old agreements the representatives in the Hall of Friendship had reached when they first conceived the local militias. As the years went by, they heard specialists and the ageless experience from the big pony with the horn and the wings.

The quality of their service, even though it was supposed to be on par everywhere, varied wildly. It went from Ponyville’s ‘Harpy above, how can you be so incompetent?’ to Canterlot’s ‘Allmother, I can’t even kill a pony in this town!’.

Griffonstone’s sat in the middle, inside a confused and uncertain gray zone. According to the information provided by Colonels Gast and Gustav, the population was convinced they were the most corrupt force in the Federation. Probably not true, and certainly inspired by the ubiquitous accusations of corruption surrounding the government officials.

To Gwineth, it mattered little. Some of their supporters had said the pervading issue was the lack of empathy. Now, griffons could care, and did. They worried about their neighbors, their family, and about their friends. But a class of griffons their race had issues caring about were criminals. At least on the matter Gwineth agreed with the southerner hooflickers. Bandits were scum and deserved to suffer. She was no criminal though. She was privileged. Entitled. Definitely not a simp that should follow simp rules.

She shuddered when it occurred to her that she might get sent to Shatteredrock, though. The infamous ‘griffon penitentiary’. The same as a common criminal. Although, the Children of The Harpy would see it as persecution. Of course, Gwineth didn’t belong there.

A heavy door creaked open, and her steely-blue beak showed a smile. The sucker was on his way to rescue her from Shatteredrock.

A young and dumb-looking tom. Mud-brown shade of Griffonland tan with a soft green, green eyes, and swept-back white-tipped feathers on his head. Not particularly small, but not large either. Kinda charming, but just enough to be forgettable. A grade-A bottom-feeder, if she was to be honest, and under a normal circumstance, she wouldn’t spare him a second glance. Just perfect for her present situation, though.

As he entered, she sat on the floor and stared at him. She was a head taller than he. How in the Scorch did he get other griffons to respect his authority? He wore the locals’ leather armor, with a pistol across the chest and a dagger on his left shoulder. He approached the bars as his eyes scanned her beak to tail. She even showed him a small smile.

“Are you dead yet?” He gave her an angry glare. “I’m supposed to bring you a snack, but I really didn’t feel like it.”

An angry ‘beta’. Wonderful. Gwineth barely managed to keep from hopping and clapping like a happy little queen who grabbed her crush’s attention. First, she showed him a confused frown, holding the bars, and speaking softly in the northerner High-Griffonese.

As she expected, it confused him, and he shrugged. “I don’t understand you.”

“What happened?” She faked confusion and a distressed tone, switching to the Common Equestrian, letting her accent show.

“You’re one of those dumb motherfuckers who think you can pick a fight with Princess Celestia.” He told her with so much spite in his voice she slipped, and her eyes grew larger. “Well, they brought you from the hospital… You know, the one you and your asshole friends bombed. Because… Yeah… Fighting Princess Celestia ended the way anyone would have expected.”

Screw that façade. She squeaked and began to pat herself down in a blind panic. “Did they put any filthy Saddani blood in me?!”

“Ma’am, I have no idea what you just said but what you just said sounded disturbing.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not dying or anything until they’ve sent you to Shatteredrock. You’re gonna wait for your judgment there and we’re just holding you till they’re done getting ready. So, I’ll be in the front. If you feel you’re gonna die, or something, call me, ‘kay?”

Things didn’t go the way she had expected, and he was slipping between her fingers. She squealed again. “No, no! Wait! Help me out!”

His response came as a sarcastic laugh.

“Pretty please?” She gave him the sweetest and most ‘promising’ smiling in a way no griffoness had ever smiled at him. She also held the bars as desperately as she could, for good measure. “I’ll make it worth your while… What’s your name?”

“Does this sort of thing work in the north?” He cocked an eyebrow and crossed his forelegs at her. “Because I feel I’m in one of those really graphical and saucy stories they keep in the back of the library…”

“It actually does.” She followed with a confident smile. “Why, I did it myself a couple of times.”

With her paw reaching from the bars, pressing her shoulder against them, she beckoned him closer and smiled too. “I’ll be the horny troublemaker inmate and you can be the big bad warden… Come on… Teach me a lesson…”

“Nah…” His stoic expression turned to a cynical grin. “I’ll ask the Lord Protector to put me on the escort detail taking you to Shatteredrock along with the rest of your barbarian friends. I figure that will teach you a lesson.”

“My sister works at the hospital, you bitch.” He cried and let his expression turn into a scowl. “I hope you spend a really long season at Shatteredrock. In fact, I’m not going to stop anyone if the others want to show a little of their disaffection for you. And just so you know, I made almost twice my monthly wage in gifts from the other guys who didn’t want to be here.”

“I’m rich too, you know!” Her sapphire eyes turned desperate, and her paw tried reaching for him again, but her foreleg hadn’t grown any longer. “Ever heard of Lady Gwendolen? She can pay you a ridiculous sum to let me out. Even better… I can tell her some nice things about you if you help me reach safety. We’ll travel together… Just you and me.”

“Good. I hope they make you pay for the expensive healing potion they used on you. And nope.” He responded with a cruel smile. “It’s gonna be you, me, and the escort to Shatteredrock. Goodnight.”

“Wait! Please!” She pleaded, desperately trying to hold him. Almost reaching the black tuft at the tip of his dark brown tail, but he walked away and pulled the heavy door closed with it.

Gwineth gasped so loud she almost cried when the closing door revealed the large, black, and white great griffoness behind it. Wait. Impossible. She couldn’t be there, and yet Lady Gwendolen sauntered over to the bars. She sat on the other side and stared at Gwineth, wrapping her tail around her haunches.

Such a blank and unreadable stare. Gwineth knew she’d done something stupid, but she was stuck there, and she was going to get sent to Shatteredrock. The young and anxious griffoness held the bars again, but before she could speak, the other’s strong black paw held her beak with a vicious grip.

“Do not say my name, you little idiot.” She spoke with a husky, low tone. Only after Gwineth nodded and hummed positively, she let go. But again, before Gwineth could speak, the other showed a regal and superior scowl. “You were told not to fight Celestia.”

“I know!” Gwineth flapped her wings nervously. “But… But…”

She stood and circled around herself, flared wings and chattering beak while her feathers kept ruffled to the point she seemed larger than her actual size. “She was going to ruin everything! I had to do something!”

“So, you disobeyed me.” The Harpy, Lady Gwendolen, Allmother, Mother Harpy… However, Gwineth would call her, the griffoness showed no sympathy. “You thought you would make another show of your skills and then you found someone you could not beat. This time the guard is not a raunchy northerner tom with stars in his eyes. He does not worship you and your station. Saying my name did not help nor mentioning money. Yours or mine. And, finally, I am not amused at your antics for a change. What now, Gwineth? None of your tricks worked.”

Gwineth’s silvery-white feathers stood ferociously, and her blue eyes changed from their scared glaze to the predatorial wrath her race was known for. She would tell Celestia everything then. Her fury died in less than a second when she remembered who stood before her. Feathers rested shy against her head and her eyes widened with fear at Gwendolen’s stoic stare.

“Be mindful of your thoughts, Gwineth.” Her expression didn’t change at all, but Gwineth knew enough to fear. “You know what happens to my misbehaving children.”

“I kept Celestia busy so our guys could escape with Master Gabriel!” Gwineth nodded frantically, with a desperate grin. “It was the best I could do. Please… You know it’s true!”

Gwendolen stared at her for a second before she massaged her frown and sighed. “Yes, Gwineth. Yes, you did.”

“Please! Help me!” Gwineth’s eyes turned panicky again, as she tried reaching the other past the bars, but her paw passed through a ghostly image. “I won’t tell her anything! I swear! You know I won’t! But I can’t stay here! I’ll do anything you want!”

The young guard’s voice came from beyond the door with a sharp bang, displeased. “Will you shut your hole? Damn hoe…”

Turning back to Gwineth after hearing the guard, Gwendolen retained her blank expression. “I am aware that restraint is not something that comes easily to you, Gwineth. What, with your poor education during your teenage years… But do try a little harder. I cannot be here to bail you out this time. Not with Celestia so close. Not after the night’s events.”

“You are not a cub anymore, Gwineth.” Gwendolen’s stare hardened. “You will either free yourself, recover your dancing sword and return, or you will find yourself before Celestia again. And if you tell her anything you should not, Shatteredrock will be the least of your worries.”

Gwineth gasped and shook her head, letting go of the bars and shivering. “But how-”

Gwendolen interrupted her, walking through the bars to hold the younger griffoness. Gwineth failed to understand how it worked. How couldn’t she grasp the one who walked past the bars but could still be held by her. The larger griffoness held her by Gwineth’s back, supporting her weight with one foreleg while her other paw pressed on Gwineth’s chest. Sharp talons scratched beneath her plumage and her voice turned soft.

“I love you Gwineth.” Gwendolen whispered and Gwineth’s eyes locked on hers with a will of their own. “You know I do, and how much I would loathe giving you away. You are just too much fun. So much, under normal circumstances, I am willing to entertain your senselessness. But I cannot choose between you and Celestia learning our secrets. Much more than you or me is at stake. You must understand, I am limited in what I can do.”

“I understand, Lady-” She started speaking, but the other pinched her beak shut.

“You cannot help yourself, can you?” Gwendolen’s foreleg let go and Gwineth fell on her back with a yelp.

Before she recovered from the surprise and the pain, a black talon grated against the curvature of her beak. “I suppose it just would not be the same if you were efficient as Gehenna or another dedicated Gilda.”

“Who’s Gilda?” Gwineth eyes crossed at the talon on her beak.

“You should meet her soon enough.” Gwendolen sat tall above her and smiled impishly. “It is going to be fun.”

“Is she the other Swordmaiden?” Gwineth stood to sit and glared with a hurt little frown of an injured ego.

“Pay attention now.” Gwendolen ignored her little tantrum. “The reason Celestia allowed our supporters to leave is because she has you. I also believe Luna is involved in her decision. Celestia is, either way, confident she can extract information from you. However, you must give her nothing. If you must, allow her to threaten you with Shatteredrock, or anything she dares. I do not believe she will resort to extreme measures. Or escape. Either before she comes to interrogate you, or when these hooflickers come take you to Shatteredrock. Whatever happens, you must not allow your fear to dominate you. I will protect you to the best of my abilities, but now I am busy. Too busy. You know things as sensitive as the ones Gabriel does. Effectively, we are in the same situation as before.”

Gwendolen started walking from one side to the other. “I am afraid I may lose both you and Gehenna because I cannot afford to leave Griffindell. Much less to come here personally. Our assets have been removed and few supporters capable of doing anything remain. I still do not fully understand the situation. It is a dangerous game, all of a sudden. I believe Luna is behind it, but she seems to believe I am a Nightmare.”

“Maybe, if Celestia shared that belief she would think my magic is due to that?” Gwineth offered sheepishly.

“Perhaps. Additionally, I can offer that a Griffonian Standing Army officer who was a friend to one of our supporters shows encouraging signs of friendliness.” Gwendolen spoke calmly, not stopping. “I imagine he will try to assist you. Try not to squander his willingness to help the helpless.”

She stopped and looked at Gwineth again. “Much as Gehenna, you must care for yourself. Do not allow Celestia any glimpse of the nature of your powers. She is no fool. If she understands you, she will understand Gilad and Grigory. I doubt The Sisters will keep believing me a Nightmare then. Everything I have been working for will be lost. I will do everything I can to distract her, but as I said, I am busy, and you are on your own for now. Come what may, return to Griffindell with the utmost celerity. I will need you soon.”

“I may regret saying this, but you can use your magic. I will grant it to you, should you need it.” Gwendolen’s stare didn’t transmit a lot of confidence, but Gwineth was happy she was allowed to use her most powerful toys, and it showed in her glowing grin. “Stop thinking of ‘banging’ and remember your training. Retrieve your dancing sword and return to me. Do what you must, but do not allow Celestia to glimpse through your power and do not do anything stupid.”

“Do not fight Celestia. If you are forced, be captured again, but do not allow her to glimpse at the origin of your magic.” Gwineth nodded frantically at her again and Gwendolen’s unfriendly glare turned mellow. Dare some even call it caring. “I will reward your faithfulness handsomely. Do not fail.”

***

It took them a couple of hours, but Twilight’s airship slowly lost all the altitude it still had left after they teleported. Thankfully, the griffons’ magical device didn’t damage her airship any further when it exploded. Twilight’s friends had some difficulty understanding teleportation moved the airship out of the way of the explosion, though. There were some time variables, but Twilight felt she was going to have a headache if she tried explaining those. The griffoness wasn’t going to explain either and the details weren’t important anyway. It was a weird thing, but in the end, what mattered was that they arrived where they should.

Or so Gallensa claimed. The scouts were still to return.

Perhaps more important was that the device did its thing. They vanished, and the Royal Guard lost them, and they arrived relatively safely somewhere. As an unintended effect of the storm, the ship’s magical induction engines died. Two alicorns remained there, but the missing Elements of Harmony made it harder to find them. The spell she, Cadance and Starlight Glimmer cast should keep the downed airship safe from magical scrying for a decent amount of time.

Oh, for pony’s sake. The Elements of Harmony stayed on the Break of Dawn along with all their armors and weapons. Their destruction, or them being damaged didn’t worry Twilight, as their power made them effectively indestructible. But without them, complications would arise, and future fights worried her.

No, no. Stop with the depressive thoughts. Focus on the good things. At least they wouldn’t be announcing their presence to every pony with a horn within a ten-thousand hooves radius.

Still exposed, any airship or random pegasus flying above should see them as soon as dawn arrived.

Keeping a positive attitude was hard and the faces of all the ponies she met in Celestia’s warship insisted on returning to her thoughts. But she had to move forward.

They kept lights off and Twilight’s crewponies maintained a constant watch in every direction and up. The dark shrouded them, and if some airship showed up looking for them, they should have at least some time to react.

Below deck, the crew’s unicorn thaumaturgical engineer assessed what damage the engines and the ship’s magical system had suffered. Hopefully, they would be able to fly on out of there. In the worst case, they might have to abandon the airship and hope Twilight could have it back after it was all said and done. But Twilight was not going to abandon her crew. Maybe they could stay accommodated somewhere discreet in Manehattan until things got cleared up.

Would things ever get cleared up after the mess their quest had turned into? Probably not entirely. But change wasn’t necessarily bad, and such was a matter Twilight could only deal with in the future.

As for Twilight’s friends, they were tired and the best they could do was sleep for a couple of hours before the day started. Twilight included, but she wished she could sleep too. Too nervous, too anxious. What would The Princess think?

They slept uneasily, though. The girls weren’t particularly comfortable with the griffons in the airship, and neither was her crew. But Twilight could see the griffons would be useful if she could keep them under control. The Loremaster worried her most of all. While still on the Break of Dawn, Twilight had gotten the impression she was dangerous. More so than the other griffons if what happened to Cadance was any indication.

As dawn neared Twilight woke up from a shallow slumber pocked with the many times she roused to stare at the wood ceiling of the private quarters. She shared it with her friends and the griffons. But that wasn’t bothering her. Strange echoes of ominous dreams she couldn’t remember haunted her every time she opened her eyes.

The griffons didn’t make a noise the whole time. Eerily silent, distinct from the snores and huffs of sleeping ponies. Twilight felt like she would suddenly wake up to find one of them with their talons at her neck. Of course, the chances of that actually happening were close to -but never- zero. They wanted her and friends to reach their destination, but stupid emotions bothered her despite her rational mind.

There being no point in remaining in bed if she wasn’t sleepy, she got up. Slowly as not to disturb the others and walked outside.

Outside, the air smelled clean, wet. Her airship crewponies diligently kept their watch and nothing seemed to be out looking for them. Three of the pegasus crewponies, in cerulean shades, laughed while Spike leaned on his elbow, against the railing, holding a mug of wood and iron fittings.

Twilight blinked with a smile before she gasped, and her eyes almost jumped off her face. “Spike! What are you drinking?!”

“Geez, Twilight. Thanks for ruining my style…” He gave her a sarcastic frown. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Soft cider, princess.” One of the pegasi chuckled. “We drink grog, though. Ye can have some if ye wants it.”

She made a worried frown with a confused smile, pointing with a hoof. “Do you guys drink that in the morning?”

“Gee, Twilight.” Spike grinned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not some fancy royal-graded wine like a Duskshine Sang’Real, but it’s what a pony of the seas will drink.”

Then he turned excited, with a huge grin and bounced a little. “Did you know grog used to be just water with alcohol because the water would go bad during long trips?! Now they put rum, cinnamon, and lemon juice on it!”

“Yes…” The alicorn stared unamused. “I knew that. And I also don’t drink wine or anything alcoholic in the morning.”

She frowned. “Wait… We have all those things onboard?”

“Them Goldies in the Royal Armada shared.” One of the pegasus shrugged.

Did he mean they had actually shared it with them, or they stole it? It didn’t matter as the gray unicorn thaumatoengineer approached her with a yawn.

“Good morning.” She smiled at him, but she soon changed it to a worried frown upon noticing his messy brown mane. “Please don’t tell me you spent the night working on the ship’s engines.”

“Neigh, princess.” He yawned again. “I spent the night working on the spell matrices in the control unit. Engines be fine, the control unit went belly up.”

Twilight nodded quietly, recalling what she knew about the airship. “The mana flow distribution systems, right?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Engines just use magic to run their spells. We control speed, altitude and direction giving it to their individual spells. Maneuverin’ and hurrying all be in the balance.”

“Can we get the airship flightworthy again?” She grinned hopefully.

“Aye.” He nodded easily. “No problem. Hiccup be the control board. The griffon thingamajig thaumatotech torched it to Tartarus. Blasted things be grand expensive, but good news is they be made in Manehattan.”

Twilight sighed. “All my money in the bank is likely frozen by now. And the licensed resellers are sure to have a meltdown and call the authorities if I even show up at one of their stores.”

“Our local cells will help.” Grigory spoke from behind her. Twilight’s wings flared and she hopped with a squeak. Where had he come from? Gallensa yawned next to him, while Grigory himself had an earnest stare. Behind them stood the big soldier griffon guy they called Gray with an inscrutable expression.

Twilight’s temper flared a bit when she remembered he was the griffon who talked to them before he sent her off to her room, just before they downed Princess Celestia’s airship. But they had to work together.

“Not only acquiring the component you need,” Grigory continued. “But also, to get the airship to the freight teleporter. I can pay for it too.”

“Jolly, birdlad.” The unicorn smiled sarcastically. “Hearty thing after yer gadget all but sent the Magic of Friendship straight to Wavy Pone’s locker.”

The griffons’ reactions put a giggle on Twilight with how confused they looked. Gallensa even cocked her head and her eyes opened wide while Grigory frowned as he stared at Twilight. “Mind translating?”

“He means he is grateful and happily surprised.” Twilight offered a hoof, still giggling.

“Well, we need you to get to Snow Mountains. We could use the airship.” Grigory added with a shrug. “Even if the Royal House had my assets frozen, they wouldn’t dare touch Lady Gwendolen’s. How much are we talking about?”

Twilight turned to the unicorn with them, who shrugged. “Eh… Prolly ‘bout a grand an’alf Bits. But won’t find it fer sale, no siree. All sorts of red tape involved. Black market be t’way t’go. Gotta see ‘em old seadogs at the yards. Ya know… ‘Hind the curtains. They’ll charge ‘bout two to three grand a new one.”

“I think he means we need to buy a black market magic control component from airshipwrights working at Manehattan’s Airdocks.” Galensa frowned as though a headache threatened just by listening to the pony talk.

“Aye.” He confirmed it though.

Twilight put a hoof on her chin. “Rarity said there is a smaller, privately owned airport at Manehattan. It may be easier to get the control board there.”

“Yes.” Grigory’s big gray friend nodded. “Scallywag Docks. Less reputable, less safe, less expensive, and less nosy than the main airport. Much better if you want to be discreet or buy things behind Canterlot’s back.”

“Are these things universal?” Grigory looked at the pony. “Or do we need a specific model?”

“Neigh.” He shook his head seriously. “Gotta be a Manehattan Thaumatocraft Hyperion. Cutlass model. Sixth Rate. Lower rated, she can’t power her engines. Higher rated, she’ll fry her engines. Only the Cutlass will fit. T’is made fer the Lightning Class cutters such as the Magic of Friendship. An’ our spell matrices won’t take anything other than a Hyperion.”

“I have the feeling we’ll have better luck buying a new airship.” Twilight groaned.

“Lightning Class cutters be works of art, lass.” The unicorn kissed his hoof. “Manehattan Thaumatocraft makes ‘em to specification.”

“I can probably jury-rig something if we can’t find the specific model.” Gallensa rolled her eyes.

“Aye.” Sarcasm levels rose to the stars with the unicorn glaring at her. “If ye wanna blow ‘er batteries in a reality-shattering magical explosion. Which be word-fer-word what yer gizmo did.”

“Grassbreath, I invented the magical induction engines these magical airships use!” Gallensa screeched at him.

“Horseapples!” The unicorn cried back at her. “T’was some landlubber at Bay County University.”

“He stole my papers after I had to leave when Lady Gwendolen called me back to Griffindell, you ignorant pokehead!” She screeched louder.

“Aye. And I be Princess Celestia’s left tit.” He gave the griffoness a blank stare and it only made her angrier. “With yer excuse, Princess.”

“Your brain is small as a tit!” Grigory stepped in front of her before she jumped at the unicorn’s face with her talons, and he held her despite the scratches at his foreleg.

“Get this on paper.” Gray sighed while Grigory dragged his mate down to the lower deck.

Spike took another sip of his mug-full of applejuice. “That griffon has an anger management problem.”

“You have no idea…” The griffon told him before turning to Twilight again. “Princess, it’s probably a bad idea if you and your friends go to Manehattan.”

Gray looked down at her from his sitting stance. “When your scouts return, let me go and check things out. I’ll contact our cell in Manehattan and get all of you to the city without being noticed. From there we’ll look for this Naminé you need to see and start looking for a way to fix the airship.”

“Why you,” Twilight raised an eyebrow at the big griffon. “And not Grigory?”

“Grigory is a noble. And so are you and your friends.” The griffon explained raising a paw and with his deep voice he kept calm all the time. “Your presence will spook all the fixers in town if you just show up there looking for things. We’ll never get the part we need and may never find this Nanimé. Especially with the present situation. Business involving the princesses freaks the underworld out.”

“Well, ponies don’t really have this ‘nobility’ thing.” Twilight pouted.

“You need to get out of your bubble more, Princess.” Gray kept a stoic stare. “You never had contact with criminals. Especially the smart ones that keep their heads low and skirt the law. That is my job.”

Her eyebrow raised as her curiosity piqued. Maybe the trip was going to be fun, after all.

Comments

[Kevin Lee]

Just like:

but with less planning, more improvising, and lots more chaos.

Discord would be proud of this.

[Metemponychosis]

11358383
Accurate.

[Jinnchin]

Gwineth is is going to make Celestia regret sparing her life isn't she.

Sounding more and more like this Black Feather division may in fact know more about The Harpy and her operations than any other force outside of Her cult, and could have posed a real legitimate threat to Her plans. Yet in the end in it looks very much like they will be a victim of their own brutal methods and corrupt leadership. Talk about irony! On a related note I'd be very interested to finally see the griffon chancellor, if only to get idea of just how much of the bad press surrounding him is actually true!

Well Twilight, looks like your committed now, hope you can find a way to get along with your new "friends"!

[Metemponychosis]

11837400
The chancellor is going to appear eventually. It's gonna be glorious.