Piece of Parchment

by Metemponychosis

Dark Before Dawn

The rain pelted the glass on the square window and hot dampness reigned with sweat. Especially with so many griffons stuck together in a tight space. Inside Griffonstone’s Local Militia Headquarters, the lights kept failing and then flaring whenever lightning flashed outside. They’d stabilize for a second and flicker out again. It became bothersome rather than frightening.

Gilmara sat next to the iron bars. The indignity of being put behind them notwithstanding, her black feathers remained flat against her neck. Filtering out the noises became a chore in the boredom. Each one threatened to give her a headache with how stressful the last days had been.

The noise from the rain didn’t bother her. She often found it calming and even in her present situation, it remained relaxing. A cub cried in the other cell, but it didn’t bother her either. The poor thing must be tired, scared, and hungry. Every now and then a griffon would cough, and she could even hear a few whispered conversations. Curt and concerned, coming from distressed griffons, uncertain about their future.

Eventual, solitary bangs sounded outside. Ironically, those worried her more than the constant racket during the fight at the hospital. They meant a pistol had gone off. In her mind, each one of those were an innocent griffon who might have been shot. A house invaded. Or worse things happening to the griffons she had taken the responsibility of protecting. More than that, an unnerving, near constant pounding also sounded in the night. Gilmara didn’t truly know, but the sound reminded her of the ‘Open Gates’ festivities at Fort King Grover. They’d fire the cannons for the public to gawk at, and the sound from a distance was unnervingly similar.

But the pounding of canons was a serious worry, not an annoyance. The pacing of the griffon, up and down the corridor between the cells, bothered her the most. A not too bright thug with the brain of an edgy kid, a perfect gangster wannabe. Of course, he would bite into the noxious northerner hen’s spiel. Especially with all the spectacle. The urban legend, the lights, and the whole mess the city had become. Gilmara herself didn’t know what to make out of that, and the idle thinking was going to turn her crazy. But any god she knew wouldn’t be intentionally throwing the city into such disarray ‘because she wants griffons to wake up’.

What a load of guano. Gilmara was not prepared to assume she should throw her life up in the air and join the crazy northerner griffons. Whatever the black and white griffon hen was, Gilmara knew she was the problem, not the solution if she caused good griffons to land behind bars.

At least a couple of hours passed since the northerner hen left and put blockhead to watch the incarcerated griffons. She had to keep watching the kid strutting about like a canterlot supermodel, displaying her keys as an ornament. And about as smart as one too.

“When Lady Gwineth gets her sword back, and gives Princess Celestia a piece of her real power, we’ll see who’s boss.” He rejoiced with the pride of a kid after making friends with the school’s bully, spinning the rope with the keyring in his paw. “With the military on our side, you guys really should wise up and get in line. The Lady in the Storm is not likely to be happy with you, you know. When they’re done destroying all the stuff the pesky Blackfeathers have got on the northerners, the stupid pony princess won’t even be able to summon the other nations in the federation to help.”

Because of course he would, he concluded with a traditional evil laughter. Gilmara rolled her eyes and sighed. The fact he argued for destroying evidence of wrongdoing as a good thing fired off that headache his pacing threatened Gilmara with. She rested her head on the iron bars and winced. Suddenly the kid thought himself the shit, an expert on international law and politics.

“Wow, chief!” The griffon on the other side of the bars approached her with a dirty grin on his smooth beak. One of a griffon who might be too young to be messing with the law. “You look so bored.”

Forehead against the bars, Gilmara gave him her best deadpan of disinterest, but he just chuckled anyway. “How you feeling behind your own bars? Huh? Huh?”

“Bored.” She simply didn’t have the energy to deal with him. Nothing special about the griffon, just a run-off the mill Griffonstone kid in a pale shade of tan and white. She had seen him so many times after her militias brought him in, he was practically family at that point. Stupid featherhead. Could’ve just stuck to petty theft and disorderly conduct, but no… He had to get involved in the preliminaries of a civil war.

“Gage, let us out.” One of Gilmara’s militias talked to him. The Lord Protector recognized the voice and the ‘I’m not angry yet’ intonation. A motherly type who came back from special training in Canterlot thinking every street thug could be fixed with love and care. Gilmara just let her talk to the guy. He was too thick, anyway. “This is not going to end well for you or any of the others. That northerner hen means trouble and she is dragging you deeper and deeper into it.”

Sweet Harmony… It was like Gilmara’s mom saying her boyfriend wasn’t worth it.

“No, ma’am.” He shot back, with the level of maturity and the mocking voice of a cub who needed a good spanking. “What is trouble is dying and ending up on the bad side of the big bird calling the shots.”

Gilmara’s subordinate’s only response was a frustrated huff. How else would anyone argue against that sort of logic? The northerner filled his head with some afterlife nonsense. It didn’t help that one of Gilmara’s guys had swallowed it too. Hook, line, and sinker.

Poor Garon. He was going to have a rough wakening in a hurry.

Regardless, the immature jerk on the other side of the bars rubbed in some salt. “Yeah. It’s gonna be great when the northerners take over the nation and kick the ponies out. Then all you pony lovers are probably gonna be put in jail, or something. Maybe they’ll educate you on the proper ways of a griffon, instead of all that sappy crap. Hehe. Maybe they’ll send you to Shatteredrock.”

“Dude…” Another of Gilmara’s subordinates responded. What made them try and talk to the dimwitted bird? Unknown, but the black griffoness didn’t have the mental energy to find out. “What makes you think the northerners will do a better job than the present administration? Especially if they want to kick out the ponies!”

“Well, for starters…” The Lord Protector would’ve found the young griffon’s posture cute and endearing if he and her subordinate were discussing politics in a bar. But he was an ignorant moron who could barely keep himself alive with Griffonstone’s crime bosses and the other was involved with crime-fighting. Enough nonsense and wasted saliva to make her hope the northerner hen would return and kill her already.

“It all makes sense!” The outlaw griffon, now holding the keys spinning on his finger, oh-so-graciously educated them. “The ponies are the reason we haven’t had a competent government in ages.”

“No, they’re not…” The militiagriffon deadpanned. “Griffons are dumb and keep electing the same crooked politicians.”

Gilmara forced her eyes closed, still with her forehead against the bars. The problem was that griffons stopped caring. Their complacency, their alienation allowed their entire political system to become a factory of corrupted griffons. They get themselves elected only so they can abuse the system and get richer. Griffons started thinking it was normal. The situation probably had more complexity, but she didn’t feel like thinking too much. It wasn’t the ponies. It wasn’t the northerners. Griffons did that to themselves and both only reacted. The difference being, Princess Celestia had good intentions. Good luck explaining that to the genius there on the other side of the bars, though.

“It’s so obvious Princess Celestia did it on purpose. She wants griffons to be lazy and dependent on the ponies.”

“That is why they funded hospitals and universities in Griffonia, right?” The older hen from before spoke again, but the younger griffon beyond the bars failed to notice her sarcasm.

“Exactly!” He put up a finger and grinned.

“You are literally complaining about education and healthcare, genius…” The male concluded, but Gilmara really hoped they would all just shut up. The conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. “It’s not even Griffonia paying for it. It’s all funded by the Royal House! We pay taxes, and they invest it in services for us.”

Maybe it was tedium. That was why they kept trying to talk to him.

“The mother of Storms wants griffons to stand on their own legs!” He explained after the northerner hen’s words. The kid criminal piped, so sure of the righteousness of his words he smiled and chuckled. “You know what? I got an idea!”

The griffon took a step back, wore the rope with the keyring around his neck, and drew a flintlock pistol from under his wing. Griffons cried at the sight of the weapon. An electrifying nervousness spread across the cells like a wave with whispers and shuffling feathers. Pointing it at the ceiling, the young griffon pulled the hammer all the way back and then leveled the weapon at Gilmara.

“How about I send you to the Lady in the Storm and you hash it out with her?” His attempt at an intimidating grin would have made Gilmara chuckle if she wasn’t so done with that situation..

The black griffoness only raised her eyes stoically. “Put that thing down, Gage. It’s not a toy.”

Others didn’t react so well. One of Gilmara’s militiagriffons came closer and started making frantic gestures with his paws. “Whoa! Whoa! Let’s all calm down. You don’t wanna do this!”

Someone on the other cell started crying and Gage raised the weapon to point at the ceiling again. Sitting on the floor and puffing out his chest, he leveled it at Gilmara again. “I’m pretty sure the crime bosses are bound to pay me well for putting the Lord Protector out of circulation.”

“That’s not how it works, you dumbfuck.” She raised her head from the bars and frowned squarely at him. “Mayor’s Office will just choose another, and they’ll be angry at you for rocking the boat. You’re not The Lion, with the leverage to deal with them.”

“Oh yeah?” The young griffon’s face shifted into a cocky grin. “We’ll just have to find out then, chief.”

He laughed and pointed a thumb at the door to the front of the building. “What? Do you expect that door to swing open and Princess Celestia to strut into the room and shoot me with her horn to save you?”

The door swung open, and Princess Celestia strutted into the room. She didn’t shoot him with magic, though. Instead, she magic-yanked the pistol from his paw and looked at the sea of griffon eyes staring at her from inside the cells. The dumbstruck griffon with the keys dangling from his neck just kept his paw as though he still held the pistol.

“I could do that,” Celestia told him with her infuriatingly soft voice, as she returned the weapon’s hammer to the down position. Amusingly, she stared at the weapon like it was evil. “But I would prefer if you let them go and entered one of the cells yourself. After giving me the keys. I believe everyone would be in a better situation.”

The young griffon spent a second processing what had just happened before he slapped his face and gave her the keys. “Fuck me…”

“Thank you.” She took the obnoxiously large iron circle that was the keyring in her magic and turned to Gilmara while examining the keys and the colored bands they had. “How did this happen, Gilmara?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The griffoness growled while her subordinate told Celestia she was looking for the green key.

With the door open, Gilmara made her way out, followed by some of her militiagriffons while Celestia gave one of them the keys. The griffoness turned to the civilian griffons caught up in that mess and the Princess watched. “I’m sorry, guys, but it will probably be safer for you to stay here rather than trying to go back to your homes. We’ll try to get you some food and some water.”

Saying that, Gilmara looked at her subordinates and two of them nodded, readily moving to make it happen. The civilian griffons in the process of being let out of the cells nodded and mostly agreed collectively. Considering the events of the night, Gilmara wondered how much Celestia’s presence influenced their decision. She was just happy they wouldn’t be making more trouble. One thing Gilmara had learned in the course of her career was that scared griffons often did stupid things.

Turning to the Princess, Gilmara walked out the room with the cells and into the corridor leading into the rest of the facility. The princess then spoke as they walked, followed by several of her militiagriffons. “Although, I really must know what happened here.”

“I’m not sure myself, Princess.” Gilmara shrugged as she stopped by a door. “Basically, we tried going through with the plan to get the northerner bitch to ‘escape’ and fall on your hooves, but it all went to shit. If you pardon my Griffonese.”

Opening the door, the empty and disheveled armory greeted them with several broken locks, some bags of crystal balls on the floor, and not a single firearm or stun baton on the racks. Open cabinet doors and a couple of broken into closets showed none of their issued barding.

“For feather’s sake… They took our guns!” Gilmara sighed.

“I wonder if they know it’s all non-lethal…” One of the militiagriffons deadpanned.

With Celestia waiting patiently, Gilmara shrugged and kicked the door to the armory closed before leading her and the others further down the corridor. Upon entering the open hall with the desks, the black griffon hen stopped and turned to the Princess. “Right here. With the lights going out, the storm making up a racket, and that Gwineth cat throwing a hissy fit… She really didn’t want to go to Shatteredrock. One of my guys, Garon wanted to smack her upside the head when the Lady in the Storm appeared like a damn costume in Nightmare Night.”

“The Lady in the Storm?” Celestia perked her ears.

“It’s an old… Rather obscure urban myth.” Another of Gilmara’s law-enforcement griffons told the princess with green eyes behind his glasses. He shrugged his also green shoulders. “I didn’t believe any of it until today.”

“A tall and strong griffon lady, all black and white, with gray eyes and too high an opinion of herself?” Celestia glared and frowned.

The griffon nodded with his dark-shaded head. “Some griffons say they can see her in their dreams when there’s a storm. Some of them go crazy, though… I think they were just crazy to begin with.”

“Then I guess we are all crazy.” Gilmara rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t know what is going on, but we gotta do something.”

“It seems the Griffonian Standing Army has split.” Celestia told all of them. Including some griffons still coming from the back of the building. “I fear any loyalist soldiers might already have been executed and the remainder of your military sided with the northerners. At least in the region. I am not sure what their goal was… Maybe they meant to sow chaos?”

“Not good.” A particular big griffon, tan and yellow, in their midst shook his head. “Fort King Grover is thick with new recruits, and a large portion of the GSA went north. They’re supposedly under custody in some northerner city, or still on their way. And there is no way of knowing which way their loyalty hangs.”

“How do you know that?” The green militiagriffon with the glasses asked.

“My company is a civilian contractor for logistics.” The big griffon pointed at his chest with a thumb. “Last news was that there was a commotion at a frontier city… Thunderpeak, if I remember correctly. The GSA kept it from the news, but it sounds like it was bad. One of my guys said there are a couple of divisions marching on the city just as we speak.”

Celestia nodded at his words and went on. “I am not sure what is happening, but they seem to be supporting the northerner operation and not attempting a real coup d’état. They seem more interested in eliminating evidence of the northerner’s activity prior to this and evacuate their supporters. I have good reasons to believe they have actively disrupted Griffonian politics to fabricate the situation we find ourselves in. It would be damning to their efforts of replacing the present system.”

Gilmara half-chuckled, half-whined. “What do we do, Princess?”

Right on cue, the doors far across the hall, on the entrance lobby, swung open and a distraught griffon came inside, not bothering to close them. Gilmara would not have recognized him if not for the leather armor he wore. Battered, it was the studded leather armor used by the Griffonstonian Local Militia. Covered in grit and bleeding out of his forehead and around his beak, the tan and white griffon skidded to a stop next to them.

“Chief!” The distressed griffon cried, wide-eyed and panting, drenched in rain, if all the bruises, cuts and grime weren’t enough. “It’s a mess!”

“I’ll bet…” Gilmara groaned while Celestia watched and one of the militiagriffons offered him a handkerchief while another gave him a paper cup with water.

“They are attacking the Central Bank!” He gulped down the water and threw the cup. “Goy showed up with a bunch of griffons and a pawful of explosives. They literally bombed the entrance! They’re fighting security right now! With a machine gun!”

“Goy?!” One of the congregated griffons cried and ruffled his feathers. “I thought he had retired! And what the fuck? Goy has a machine gun?”

The absurdity of one being able to make a career out of crime to the point they could retire aside, Gilmara growled and held her eyes with frustration before staring at Celestia. “It’s a feathering smokescreen! They’re trying to distract you from whatever is going on. I can’t believe Goy is working with the damn northerners!”

Then again, the military was… But Gilmara didn’t say it out loud. Another of her griffons spoke. “They probably offered him something.”

Gilmara growled and waved at him to shut up. “We have to get the city back under control! I don’t have a clue how, but we just gotta!”

Seeing determined griffon eyes and nods across the room, the griffoness turned to Celestia, surprised to see her crown floating in golden magic before her.

“Take this.” The Princess offered her crown. “Show it to any Royal Guard you come across and they will do whatever you say within reason.”

The griffoness took the crown on her paw and cocked an eyebrow at Celestia. “Is this standard procedure?”

“There is a lot about the Royal Guard that isn’t commonly known.” The alicorn spoke softly. “Do what you can. I must see to the Blackfeather Headquarters but do try not to get yourselves killed. Once the storm is dissipated, I will be able to summon the full scope of the Royal Guard to assist you. Try to minimize civilian casualties and, please… I will need good griffons in the not-too-distant future. Do not sacrifice yourselves.”

Something odd about the way the Princess said it bothered Gilmara, but she liked the plan of not dying. With a nod, she turned to her griffons. “Do any of you guys have any private weaponry at home we can use?”

The griffon guy who did logistics for the army raised his paw. “Yeah. I do. It’s not much, but it can help. My company uses them for self-defense. They are in our central office.”

“I got some too!” Another of the civilians in the middle of all the militiagriffons waved his paw and flew above to show his blue and white. He shrugged, hovering in the air, flapping his wings. “They’re some antiques, but they’ll shoot!”

“Let’s go get the guns, then. Glib. You and Gordon come with us. Gamila, get the weirdos with the store near the teleporter to help. Remind them we can commandeer private owned weaponry in an emergency and that they’ll be paid and get them back! The others go get us some eyes on the situation, but don’t engage.” Gilmara suddenly was in her element. Giving orders, making things happen and her griffons fell in line with her. She held Celestia’s crown on her paw with a huge grin. “We’ll meet here in one hour. Let’s get this stupid city back under control!”

***

Seeing such passion and determination in those griffons warmed Celestia’s heart. As incensed as she had become with their kind and that city, Lord Protector Gilmara and her griffons convinced the princess of their loyalty. To their city. To its population. To the griffons which they were sworn to protect. How could she not be swayed by their noble disposition?

She left the building with Gilmara and the other griffons. Without delay, they spread out to different city areas and to gather the weapons they could. While griffons fanned out of the building, flying or galloping, Celestia stopped to talk to Gilmara under the still annoying rain. The streetlights would be out for a few days until the damage could be repaired, but hopefully Civil Services would provide some palliative measure once the city had been pacified.

The wind had abated somewhat, but the rainfall remained. The central gutter in the street could barely keep up. Her coat had been soaked again, but Celestia barely noticed it. The noise of artillery in the distance worried her, though, making her ears perk as she looked in the direction. Not much to be seen but dark buildings and desolate streets from the ground level.

“What will you be doing, Princess?” Gilmara turned to her before flaring her wings to fly. Her subordinates waited for her.

“The Prince-Consort and the Royal Guard are at the Blackfeather Division headquarters, trying to find information. I’m sure they’ll either be under attack soon, or already are.”

The black griffoness winced. “I wish I could help.”

“You can help by protecting Griffonstone’s citizens.” Celestia tossed her head to the side. “I should go. Be careful, Gilmara. I meant it when I said I would need good griffons moving forward.”

The hen said nothing and simply nodded, turning to her griffons waiting for her. With them taking off together, Celestia too turned on herself and took flight with a hop.

The dark city, missing most of its public lighting and the nightly life of a city of its size unnerved Celestia. Few windows showing lights meant scared citizens hiding in the dark. Gunshots rang every now and then, and each one of them could be an innocent griffon caught in the madness. The incessant drumming of cannons was more concerning, though. In the distance, she could see phosphorus had been fired into the air. Her wings carried her as fast as they could. Teleporting under that storm, even after she had dealt with its source of power, could be dangerous. She could not be too careful in the present situation.

A scream made Celestia shiver and brought her flight to a hover under the rain. Her head swiveled one way and another, but only when a griffon hen screamed again, she found her.

Low above the street, a small griffoness flew a dangerous game of tag in between a maze of two or three-storey buildings. In the dark, among those winds channeled by the buildings, and with the rain in her eyes, flying so daringly would be dangerous enough.

The panicked hen screamed again. A long and frightened cry for help, frantically flapping her wings, zooming down the street towards the militia headquarters. Two griffons chased her and Celestia saw enough to act. She flew overhead, gaining some altitude and closed her wings. Gravity pulled her to drop just short of intercepting the griffons’ path. Opening and flapping her wings in one fluid motion, she hovered in the air with her horn’s golden light in the dark. The two griffons chasing the hen barely managed to stop in time and found themselves enveloped in magical glow as the small hen flew past below Celestia.

The pair screamed. A brick-red and orange griffon tried grasping at the air when her magic stole the flight from his wings. And the other a tan and white, bulky male, tumbled out of control inside the mist of golden light.

“Appalling!” Celestia turned both to look at her and shot a disapproving glare. “I cannot believe-”

“Help!” The hen kept flying away and interrupted the princess with a long screeching cry until Celestia’s magic grasped and teleported her close to the alicorn.

She held the little hen in her magic, still panic-flying, until both landed on the walkway. The two thugs Celestia kept trapped inside her magic, some five hooves above the sidewalk.

“I, ah… What?” A cute gray lady griffoness with lighter feathers and some white on her neck looked one side and another before looking at Celestia. Scared green eyes took some time before they focused on her, but once they did, she squealed and latched on to the alicorn’s legs. “Oh! Thank you, thank you, Princess Celestia!”

“You are quite welcome.” The princess smiled at her.

“Hey, how about we call it a loss and you let us go?” The red griffon sighed, hanging upside down and the other kept trying to walk inside her magical field. “It’s just business, alright? Nothing personal with the cutie or your highness.”

“The only place you will be going is the jail, and then the courthouse.” Celestia told him, back with an enraged frown.

“Militias are a bit indisposed, Princess.” The tan one finally settled to sit in the air and shared a chuckle with the other.

“You guys are evil!” The gray hen accused them with a talon.

Were they bold or didn’t believe Celestia might actually harm them? Difficult to know for sure and ultimately, it didn’t matter. The Princess pulled open the retractable white awning belonging to a drugstore and deposited the pair on the ground. The two griffons squawked upon noticing they were each inside a golden cage. The red one immediately tried the bars and found they were far too strong for him. The other sat on his haunches with a grouchy frown akin to a cub’s.

“A fucking birdcage?” Tan roared holding the bars. “This is racist, you know?”

A small golden thread tied his beak shut and Celestia turned to the gray hen, ignoring his jumping and unnamable swears he couldn’t utter beyond furious hums. “What are you doing outside? There is dangerous fighting across the city. And I’m afraid he was correct in saying the Local Militia wouldn’t be able to help.”

In fact, the distant thunder of the cannons hadn’t diminished while her worry only increased.

“They wanted the bonds!” The little hen shifted to show the princess her saddlebags filled with papers.

“Those belong to banks and multimillionaire institutions.” Celestia frowned and nickered. “You should not have put your life in danger because of them. Thinking of what those criminals could have done to you makes me shudder!”

“Hey! I just wanted the money!” Red yelled at her, and they stared at him. “What do you think I am?!”

“Regardless…” Celestia turned to the griffoness again and pointed a hoof further up the street. “Please, shelter yourself over at the Militia headquarters. It is back under control of Griffonstone Militia.”

The little griffoness thanked Celestia again and hugged her leg one more time before saying her goodbyes and setting off up the street. Celestia stared at her galloping shape distancing itself in the dark before she turned to the pair of griffons again.

“Gentlegriffons, mind telling me who do you work for?” She approached them to hide from the rain under the awning. The tan griffon pointed at the thin magical thread holding his beak and mumbled something. “Don’t worry, your friend is perfectly capable of speaking.”

Turning to the other griffon she waited a second, but the continuous sounds of cannon fire pulled at her patience. “Well?”

“A griffon’s gotta pay his bills.” Red gave her a cocky grin, making himself comfortable inside his cage and wrapping his tail around his haunches. “I mean, I bet you never had to pay a bill in your life but working freelance ain’t easy. Even when you’re a misunderstood outlaw.”

“You are not a misunderstood outlaw.” Celestia hovered his cage in the air with her magic, giving it a jerk and jolting the griffon inside. “You are a gangster in need of a timeout at Shatteredrock. I have been dealing with creatures such as you for longer than the Griffon Kingdom has existed, and I don’t have the patience for games anymore.”

Initially scared, his demeanor changed back to a cocky superiority as he crossed his forelegs. “Sorry, Princess. I’m more scared of the northerners than I am of you.”

Maybe that was part of the problem. Her amassed reputation of niceness. It worked on the ponies, but griffons seemed less inclined to behave without threat of punishment.

“Fine,” she gave him a smirk. “Don’t go anywhere. I will ask that Lord Protector Gilmara send someone to pick you both up when possible.”

Turning her backside at him, she took a short running start and jumped into the air with aid from her wings. Gaining altitude over the street and along the buildings, she decided the canons have been worrying her for long enough. Her intuition told her there was only one target they could be firing at.

Seeing in the dark was difficult, but the white light from the phosphorus flares shone over the Blackfeather’s tower. She followed their arch raising from a few blocks away as soon as the previously fired munitions fell to the ground.

Flying closer, she found a cart loading area next to a warehouse taken by mortars and ununiformed griffons running everywhere. When they shot another volley of phosphorus shells, some of them cried and pointed at the sky, at the alicorn hovering above them. Panic and disorder took over. Some ran in every direction and others picked up muskets to shoot at her. The gall!

The rain kept the smoke under control, but Celestia could still smell the burnt powder and the bangs from the muskets filled the air above the noises of the rain. Gas lights illuminated the place well enough, but the muzzle flashes from the muskets were still quite visible. Musket balls broke harmlessly against the magical protections from her jewelry and the spells held. Her patience, already quite thin, evaporated like the smoke from the muskets.

“Cease this immediately!” She let herself hover down to the floor among the short and thick cannons while griffons scrambled from them. She couldn’t be sure, but she was positive someone had been hit by a stray musket ball. “I said, stop!”

“I am not going to…” A violent jerk and a bright flash interrupted her with a resounding bang. The magical defenses never disengaged, but the concussive force left her severely disoriented when she came to. Something exploded, but she didn’t know how much time passed. Musket fire had ceased and two griffons talking next to her sounded as though they spoke through a bell. She wished they talked a little lower, and that the ringing would go away.

“Shouldn’t we get her a medic?”

“Of course not, you clown. Just… Just shoot her!”

“But it is Princess Celestia!”

“I can see it is Princess Celestia! Just shoot her already!”

“No! You shoot her!”

“You have the gun!”

The Princess moved her legs, shifting debris and loose paving stones with an ungainly moan.

“Oh shit!” Both voices squawked and griffon paws rushed away, splashing in the pooled water.

As consciousness returned, thunder still rumbled across the sky. A flash of lightning illuminated the damaged warehouse. Rainfall kept pattering and swishing at the cobblestone and overwhelmed rainwater drainage trenches. Despite the rain, the smell of burnt black powder remained. She raised to sit on her haunches, and, at least, nocreature shot at her. Left wing throbbing and mane filthy with sand, she shook her head. Still light and wobbly, she closed her eyes tight trying to ward off the headache.

Was it an explosion? It seemed as though it was. It displaced several cobblestone tiles in the yard and a muddy hole remained where she had landed, several feet away. A part of the nearby structure collapsed, and a large portion of the roof wobbled unstably in the wind and water. Beneath it, stored construction materials had been scattered, and under the still standing roof, a pile of wood beams burned. The explosion caused too much damage. The griffons likely had their stockpiles too close together. After all, they had little space in that yard.

There were several conclusions to infer from it but noticing blood on her leg gave Celestia pause. Confused, she looked at herself and only found dirt and more blood. Pained sobs and yelps came to her as her ears stopped ringing. She gasped. A couple of the short, upwards-aiming cannons had been turned on their side. Ripped sandbags had landed everywhere and the rain began to wash away some of the sand they spilled along with pooled blood. The water smelled of it. A griffon slumped over a turned canon with a metal bar through his chest. Closest to her a tan and white griffon laid on his side with grievous burns, barely moving his limbs and another had a bloody sandbag pinning a hindleg. Pain and sorrow were obvious in his yellow eyes.

“Oh no!” Without thinking, Celestia skipped next to him. Light scorching marred his cyan coat, but his leg was definitively broken under the sandbag. Most of the cloth had been stained red and even in the shade blood could be seen draining away in the rainwater.

“Help me, please…” He sobbed weakly, barely holding his eyes open.

“Don’t move.” The princess told him softly, but she first turned to the unconscious griffon with the extensive burns.

Despite shaking on her hooves, her horn shone and the ‘privileges’ of her Life magic granted her information it might have taken a medically trained pony several minutes to gather. Several organs had been ruptured and his ribs had been broken into countless pieces, cutting into his ‘bird lungs’. They were filled with blood and liquids and his heart had been pierced by bones too. The sac around it filled with blood and it couldn’t properly expand to fill, much less propel what blood he had left in his vessels. Starved of oxygen, his brain had already stopped, and the griffon was already gone.

“Refrain from moving.” She turned back to the cyan griffon and her magic effortlessly hoisted the bloody sandbag to reveal a grievous exposed fracture in his leg. The poor griffon screamed, but Celestia blocked out her nervousness.

She wished she had Chocolate Velvet with her. His medical training would be more effective than her instinctual understanding of life and even her ancient experience from the battlefields of the past. Putting stray thoughts aside, Celestia ripped the sandbag apart and improvised a tourniquet she tied tightly above the griffon’s knee.

He screamed again when she pulled to tie the knot, but as much as it hurt her, it would save his life. Celestia had no time to be soft. Her magical perceptions told her he had fractured his ribs in several places but should be mostly fine. His head suffered a concussion, but it seemed minor.

“Keep your leg raised.” She commanded with the tone she usually saved for giving orders to her royal guards. It helped her focus.

“I’m sorry…” He allowed a sob to escape again and wouldn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes at the floor.

“Don’t worry about it now.” Celestia told him softly. “It will be alright.”

The desperate cries for help and weak sobs didn’t stop and she stood to look from a higher angle. A shade in the dark runny water drew her eyes and she skipped closer to another griffon. Gray body and white feathers, with darker wings. Blood streaked out his nostrils, mouth, and ears. He wouldn’t respond to touch or her calls, and she shook her head at his stiff forelegs with clenched paws. Her horn shone and filled her mind with information. Massive damage to his brain had ripped apart connections between gray and white matter. Brain cavities and damaged portions filled with blood at an alarming rate, not to mention several skull fractures. He would pass away before anything she tried had any effect.

Celestia raised her head and scanned the murky yard again. Chastising herself, she allowed her magical senses to show her the collections of Life magic slowly fading away. Not losing time, she hopped closer to the nearest to find a coughing green griffon with blood dripping from his beak. His eyes focused on her, and the griffon tried to pull away with a jerk.

She shushed him as her magic did its job identifying several broken ribs and a broken vertebrae swollen around his spinal cord. She didn’t truly understand their respiratory system, but there was blood where there should be air on the right side, while the other was fine. His right wing was broken, but it didn’t threaten his life.

“I can’t feel my legs, Princess...” He sobbed.

“Shush, it will be alright.” Her horn’s shine intensified, and her magic reached into his wounded spine. He let out a long gasping whimper, but she kept at it. There was only so much she could do with a quick spell, but it should save his spinal cord any lasting damage. “Your legs will be fine.”

“Please, stay with me.” He whimpered as she stood.

“I can’t. There are others I must help. Your injuries are severe, but your life is not in immediate danger and help should be arriving soon.” She heard him moan but turned to find another injured griffon nearby.

A golden-yellow griffon lady laid on her side and sobbed on the water. The coarse and shallow breathing worried Celestia. Severe bloody burns covered her face with black and crimson. Celestia’s spell told her of fractured sternum, ribs, and radium. Her airways had burned too and quickly filled with secretions.

She shushed the hen and whispered to her. “You’ll be alright. Try not to move.”

“Princess Celestia?” Her voice came out croaky and weak. She moved her head weakly; details were lost in the dark, but she never looked directly at Celestia. “Is that you?”

“Please, remain calm.” Celestia urged her, reaching into her breathing apparatus and her skin with her magic, returning living magic to the damaged tissue. It should keep her alive for long enough until help arrives. She would at least breathe without further impediment.

“I can’t see you!” The hen tried to stand but cried and collapsed with a splash, even then she put out her paws, feeling around helplessly. “Where are you?”

Celestia let her grab one of her legs. “Don’t worry about anything now. We will do everything we can to help you.”

“No!” The hen yelped and winced, weakly grasping at her legs. “Don’t leave me alone!”

“I will stay here until help arrives, but I must help other griffons.” Celestia told her sternly. “You must be strong for now.”

Despite complaining sobs, the princess took a couple of steps back and focused on finding the next injured griffon she could. The magic in their souls faded away too fast and she judged the best she could which could survive, skipping closer. She found another tan and white griffon, but his forelegs had turned black as did the luscious plumage he once had. Most of his face was still white, but bloody and his honey eyes found her when she approached. Laying on his back, his hips had a strange, spread-out shape and a nearby, side-turned cannon explained why.

Coming closer, her magic identified severe burn damage to his forelegs and several fractures on his pelvis. Ruptured major vessels wasted a large volume of blood and it was evident in his rosy conjunctiva and shallow breathing under her horn’s glow. He said nothing while she poured her magic into his broken bones and cut vessels, urging the flesh to knit. It was extensive damage, but not too severe. The intense magical influx of mana from a healing potion would have worked better, but she could mimic it well enough as well as align bone fragments. The result seemed far from perfect, but it should keep him alive. It would spare him too much pain and the doctors could properly fix it later.

The griffon let a pained chuckle. “Sorry for the exposing position, princess… It kinda hurts.”

“Trust me… I have seen many griffon private parts in my life.” She focused on the prolonged spell. “Yours are nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Damn… It hurts when I laugh.” He gave a curt chuckle. “Just, how worried should I be?”

“And don’t worry, your bits are quite intact.” She concluded with a smile. Finally, after her horn extinguished itself, she looked at his eyes. “This should keep you alive until you get help.”

“And I thought of myself as such a tough guy.” He looked away. “Thank you, Princess.”

“You are a big and tough griffon. Everycreature needs help once in a while.” She smiled at him. “Hold on tight. I will try to help the others.”

As she turned on herself, once again Celestia scanned the yard for the magical life force of injured griffons. Too many had lost their shine, soaking in that damnable downpour. The urgent rattling of wheels soon reached her past the noise of the rain, however. Wagons stopped on the street.

“For feather’s sake!” An angry, big, and red griffon with salmon feathers hopped into the yard while the griffons pulling the wagons unhitched themselves. “They’re turning the city into an actual war zone now!”

“Boss!” A small white griffon lady rushed next to him while others jumped off the wagons. All of them wore thick leather uniforms in the form of long coats and backpacks. Yellow hats said they were the Griffonstone Fire Department. “It’s Princess Celestia!”

“I can see, for feather’s sake! She’s damn huge!” He shoved the little lady forward. “Get to work!”

The princess walked closer and gestured with a hoof while the griffons set about their work. “There are several injured griffons in this yard. A large stockpile of black powder exploded during a firefight, and some are in grave condition. There is a fire inside the warehouse.”

A pair of griffons nodded and quickly set to work unwinding a hose from one of their wagons while their superior approached her. Their heavy garments and the small lamps it carried made it difficult to see their colors in the shade.

“We got it, princess!” The large griffon in charge raised a closed fist and ordered his griffons to get started, even if they already had. Some brought oil lamps, others hurried to the griffons, more easily locatable with help from the lights hanging from their uniforms. Among the vehicles were cargo wagons, a manual pump, and a water tank. Griffons took the hoses inside the warehouse while others connected everything and started on the manual pump. They seemed to have the situation under control. At least, as much as it could be controlled.

“Are you injured, princess?” The small griffon lady under the leather garment stopped by her, looking up over her cute yellow beak with innocent and expressive blue eyes. Celestia said ‘no’, shaking her head and the little hen hurried to work with the others.

The princess sat on the filthy water for a second and watched them work, happy none of the northerners or their supporters decided to return. They probably did, but cleared away while she was busy helping the injured. Hopefully, they would not disturb the firefighters once she left.

Since the griffons didn’t seem to need her assistance nor minded her presence, she spread her wings to fly off into the air again. The rain hadn’t become any easier to bear with all the filth, but she would feel like an entitled brat complaining of it while those griffons were inches away from death.

What a dreadful situation. For a second, a surge of anger silenced her empathetic thoughts. Those griffons shot at her. They bombarded the tower where her Royal Guards looked for evidence of wrongdoing in their nation. Where her consort had to stay and protect her Justiciar tasked with finding said evidence and that dumb sword.

Could she blame all that on The Harpy? No. Griffons had chosen their side. Gilmara didn’t turn on her nation and on its citizens. Most griffons simply wanted to live their lives normally. At the same time, the ones who joined the northerners didn’t know the whole story. Withholding judgment on them seemed more reasonable. Casting blame in the middle of that mess was pointless.

Under the storm clouds, under the dark, the tower truly looked like the evil lair of a typical villain she’d send the Mane Six after. Manehatian architecture looked spooky in the dark, but the griffons had taken it to another level. With the damage it suffered, it seemed to have come out of a terror thriller. But those were only appearances. Her thoughts aside, no fighting happened at the moment. She expected to see griffons flying around, firearms shooting, combat spellcasting and angry shouting. It was eerily silent among the sounds of rainfall.

The winds still made approaching the tower dangerous, but Celestia was confident she had strong enough wings and flying skill she could attempt a safe landing. Despite the pain. Considering the ceiling would be the best spot, she approached the tower from a higher altitude. Coming closer she could see movement and magical barriers. Their version of the sandbags, shining with golden light and protecting the access to the inside. Circling around a couple of times, she made sure the Royal Guards could see and identify her, which they acknowledged by waving hooves at her.

Upon landing, magical lights, shining orbs floating above the roof, allowed her to see more lifeless griffons laying on pools of rainwater and blood. Most of them had been carried over to out of the way spots and covered with white tarps. A couple of dead ponies too, still wearing their golden armor, but much less than one would expect given the number of griffons.

“Princess.” The lieutenant in charge of the roof’s defense approached after a curt bow. A mixture of dirt and rainwater tarnished his immaculately cyan coat and blue mane. “I don’t think the griffons expected much of a resistance. They tried getting in through the roof, but I suppose they also knew what they wanted. They attacked several floors. Ah… There were some prisoners, but most of them really didn’t want to get caught. I’m worried that if they were better prepared this would have been a tougher fight. Anyway, we sent the prisoners inside. Crucible Wings is dealing with them.”

A complaint that letters to relatives were supposed to be a thing of the past nagged from the back of Celestia’s mind. Still, she kept her voice level and calm expression. “Good work. Please keep your position until we’re sure there won’t be any more assaults.”

Even Celestia considered her words trite and unnecessary. It made her notice how tired she was. Her head still throbbed and her right flank too. It would probably be a good idea to let Chocolate examine her. The unicorn simply nodded at her and her unnecessary command. She sighed, walking away. Sometimes, unnecessary words, at the least, provided some comfort.

Walking to the entrance, she passed a few other ponies with the golden armor and armed with pikes and muskets. It was the light ceremonial version, but it seemed to have served them well enough. Mostly pegasi with their wingblades and percussion cap pistols, though. Maybe it was time to upgrade the Royal Guard if The Harpy meant to give her a war to fight. Oh, ho ho. Did she have a couple of surprises waiting for her brutish barbarians.

Inside, a couple of guards watched over the stairwell, and it seemed the combat never reached them. Guards along the way told Celestia Chocolate Velvet and Miss Mallet were at the library and reaching it proved easy enough thanks to several ponies along the way.

What she found didn’t truly surprise her. A veritable battlefield, as the northerner hen certainly used what magical artifices The Harpy granted her. A fire had broken out, and the result included soggy burnt books, scorch marks and destroyed sections of carpet, floor, ceiling, and walls. Destroyed furniture made of rich wood, riddled with bullet marks, and crushed into pieces by magic. Many copper bullet casings expelled by the northerner weapons and a few bloody spots littered the floor. Again, bodies were put out of the way and covered with a white tarp. Ponies stopped working upon her arrival and kept staring.

Lieutenant Crucible Wings sat next to Miss Mallet by the door, next to a small group of battle-dirty royal guards. Tired expressions and sad eyes greeted her, but she smiled for them, and then at the small unicorn mare under a blue blanket. Crucible comforted her with a leg behind her back while she drank a tea smelling of chamomile. Celestia could use one herself.

“Princess…” Crucible looked at her. And his voice roused Miss Mallet to stare at Celestia too.

“I found it…” Mallet said softly. “I mean… They left nothing… But there’s a changeling that’s been to Snow Mountains and has information on what is going on. I have his name and where the Blackfeather hid him in Beachhome. I believe he has useful information.”

“Good job, Miss Mallet.” Celestia raised the blanket, as it hid the mare’s face from her, but she saw nothing of the relief or happiness she expected to see.

As Celestia found the same darkness on Crucible’s expression, she could then see it on all of the royal guards in the room. She didn’t see Chocolate Velvet, and turned around, looking for him. When she found the large body under a white tarp, her first reaction was to assume it was a prank. But the surprise and laughter never came.

A/N: In the original plan for the story, Gwineth pretty much turned Griffonstone into Arkham City. But the story started taking longer than I wanted (with the 20K words chapter, Red Dawn would’ve been one single chapter). The point is that this arc is closing up and I took out the scenes of Griffonstone Local Militia and Royal Guards reigning in the city with Celestia’s help.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

11257199
Could you please tell me when you have an exact number?

[Metemponychosis]

11443716
An estimate of how many chapters to the end? I'll try.
The thing is that I don't have the story organized in chapters already. I have it in plot points and things that need to happen.
For example... Twilight meeting Naminé should happen in two to three chapters, and from there she'll travel with her friends to Snow Mountains.
In between, there's Celestia learning of the fate of the Break of Dawn and reacting to it and to Chocolate's death and some of the ramifications coming from it.

So, it's hard to know. But I'll try.

[Jinnchin]

Celestia just had an entire black powder magazine go up in her face didn't she? I'd be interested to know how many of these griffons she saved were on Team Hairball or Team Grassbreath.

Also Hello Gabby!

And then we get to the end of the chapter. Hoo boy. It's good to know Gwineth really was dumb enough to leave Mallet be. But I think we're about to see what a truly pissed off Celestia looks like!

[Metemponychosis]

11839528
By the time I'm done with Gwineth, you'll be asking me to make her suffer before she dies.