Piece of Parchment

by Metemponychosis

Love Like Hate

Damp air carried the smell of snow with starting fireplaces and wood ovens. Snow had accumulated on the black, steel-reinforced battlements above the mansion’s gatehouse where Discord stood. It slowly melted away because of the lit brazier next to him. One of the sky sentries guarding the walls hovered near it, despite the fact he would never admit to enjoying it.

The younger griffons seemed to need some comfort under the harsh weather of the region. Or maybe the older ones learned how to hide it better. Discord was sure the ingrained magic of the Nartani griffons protected them from the cold, but they still felt cold. They would loathe him for saying so, but in a similar way the magic of Harmony turned earth ponies into crystal ponies in the Crystal Empire.

Canterlot University was going to have a field day with the idea that there actually are different griffon races. Just nobody paid attention to the fact yet. The draconequus rolled his eyes, as it was most likely because unicorns didn’t really care about griffons. Pegasi tended to think they were the only ones with a legacy, and earth ponies cared about none of that. Something Discord used to think was a failure, turned out to be their character. It made them unique, just as the northerner griffons were different from the southerner griffons. And griffons were different from ponies.

Lady Gwendolen, The Harpy, said the Haderani were lost during the war and that most Shaddani lost their uniqueness to become the Saddani. Some things must change. Discord wasn’t sure what, but they needed to change. If for no other reason, because the northerners must be better recognized by Griffonstone. Maybe Gilad was right, and a radical change made itself necessary. Celestia seemed to agree, but that was before Discord understood anything about the northerners. He didn’t know what went on in the south, but he knew something bad happened in Griffonstone. He hoped his mission wouldn’t end up being a dud and he could help Celestia.

She showed up a lot in his thoughts that morning. Hopefully, she was alright, because Equestria would be doomed without her. Even without The Harpy ready to sink her talons into Griffonia through Gilad.

Beneath him, rich stone mansions flanked the vast thoroughfare stretching from the mansion’s gates to Griffindell’s Black Gates. Unlike Canterlot’s mansions where façades often had opulent windows, the griffon mansions used solid fronts with few windows and heavy doors. Smaller windows kept the heat inside and the cold outside. The main street in Canterlot was also a sinuous path, as the Roost had a much softer incline, despite how tall it was. Lots of iron to mine beneath, supposedly, but the griffons treated the place like it was sacred. The iron came from further southeast, from Stormvalley.

They liked it simple: Griffindell was the Black Gates, the frontier the Windigos are not allowed to cross. Stormvalley was where the forges and industrial-scale weapons production sat. Frozenlake was where the carps came from. Lord Gilad was the boss, and the lords of the other cities were the bosses of their cities. You obeyed them, and you followed Lady Gwendolen’s advice. If you wanted to live through life, you’d make yourself useful. If you wanted to lead, you must know what you’re doing, repercussions would come. Good or bad. Did you lie? You’d get your beak tied. Did you steal? You’d work to pay for it. Did you get a beef with someone? You’d better work it out, fight each other if you must; figure it out or the others would. If the city’s lord, or their guard, felt the need to get involved, you messed up. Did you murder someone? You forfeited your own life.

In some ways, death sentences apart, it was refreshing. Compared to the absolute stuffiness of unicorns where words meant what they needed at the moment. Or the prideful pegasi and earth ponies proud of being apathetic to anything outside their immediate sphere of interest. The griffons in the south too. Some years into the past, they left their cities almost abandoned to an indifferent public power. They settled into passive complaining and complacency. Unicorns could be the worst, though. In how they would suck up to Discord to get on the Princess’ good side. Ironically, it never worked, but they never learned. Discord had lost count of how many times any marginally successful hedge knight would put a huge smile on their faces and propose to Luna. And not just unicorns, but the original idea came from them.

He chuckled to himself. He’d like to see a northerner griffon pulling that. They learned early that one was only as useful as how good their work was. Sure, they were all fluffed up about honor and remembering deeds. But killing a big rat was only the beginning. So, one would not find a griffon monster hunter asking to see the available noble maidens just because they got the job done. Privilege came from the top, much as it did anywhere. The difference was one word which defined all the complex dynamics of deserving and obligations: honor. It included their behavior, their loyalty, their prowess, the things they said and did. Either they were honorable, or not.

Maybe that was why they liked it simple. Honor was simple. Politics were complicated and easy to mess up.

Such was the background of life while the day started before Celestia raised the Sun. Early rising servants started on the house’s chores before their lords and ladies woke up. Smoke rose from chimneys and lights leaked out the windows. It happened every morning, all days of the week without fail as the sun would raise. That day was different though. The sun didn’t rise. Griffons walked outside their mansions and humbler homes down the mountain. They looked at the sky, exchanging confused stares and hushed comments.

Discord felt it too. Something was wrong. Celestia’s magic which showered from the sky, much like the sunlight banishes darkness away, never came. The moon had left the sky with Luna’s magic, but the sun had not come out. Only the eventual lightning lit the storm clouds above.

Discord looked at his right wrist and his sun clock showed a whole hour past six. Celestia had been late some five minutes, maybe six. But never a whole hour. The Canterlot Astronomy Guild must be soiling their tails by now.

“Damn lazy grassbreath…” The sky Sentry next to Discord complained, sitting on his haunches, and holding his halberd straight. Other sentries talked among themselves along the battlements.

Discord walked down the stairs and the sentries by the mansion’s doors opened them for him. The warmth greeted him with the thick smell of burning birch. Inside, the perpetual flames of the hearth at the center of the main hall had already been fed and raised higher. The caribou was already roasting, and the table had been prepared for breakfast. The maids hurried every which way, making sure every cup, plate, and pillow were perfectly in place.

Discord rolled his eyes. Nobody wished to incur Lady Gwendolen’s wrath so early in the morning. He found it absolutely hilarious that the entirety of the world lost their cool over the Northerner King. The northerners feared her more than him.

Although, perhaps that was not as funny as he thought.

One such maid, deep gray all over her body except for the silver tips of her feathers, approached him with a friendly smile. “We will be serving breakfast soon. Would you like something special, Lord of Chaos?”

Very young, very cute, staring up at him with warm blue eyes and wagging the tufted tip of her tail. He smiled at her. “No, thank you my dear. I will be having the same as the others.”

After she acknowledged and busied herself with something else, Discord sat at the table. He chose a place next to Gwendolen’s and Gilad’s and waited. It would probably ruin Gwendolen’s day if he told her griffon sitting pillows happened to be as comfy as the pony ones. Despite his lone chuckle, that was the sort of thing to keep to himself.

Soon enough, Lord Gilad arrived, talking to his friend from Frozenlake. He took his place at the head of the table and Lord Graham sat across from Discord. They greeted each other and the two griffons kept talking. Something about the differences between oil-quenched and water-quenched steel for magical blades.

“Of course, oil-quenched steel is more malleable and less likely to break.” Gilad argued. “But magical blades will not break either way. And I have heard blacksmiths saying water-quenching gives the sword a sharper edge. Since they are harder to sharpen after the tempering process.”

“True that.” Graham nodded. “If the twin astrani blacksmiths at Frozenlake are to be trusted, astrani steel is meant to be snow-quenched.”

“I am not a blacksmith, nor a physicist. But I am pretty sure snow is water…” Discord cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow. “Although I am entirely convinced astrani steel is likely edgier than most magical alloys.”

The two griffons laughed, and Gilad tapped the table a few times while at it. “If Gwendolen catches you talking like that, she is going to hang your ears above the mantelpiece.”

Meanwhile other guests arrived. Griffons Discord didn’t know, but who bowed politely to him. Certainly, noblegriffons from the city who had business to conduct with the Lord of the Black Gates or his mate. Discord appreciated that they were treated to breakfast too, simply because they had arrived and were Gilad’s and Gwendolen’s guests.

As fast as any Canterlot Palace servant, the mansion’s maids delivered the food and beverages to the table. Small fruits griffons were supposed to break with their beaks. Discord munched on them. Bread with different jams, butter, and pates. Mead, spiced wines, juices too, and water, different from the one meant to wash their paws. Someone had thought of Discord, and they served him a helping of iron forks.

Sometimes he wondered if his habits were too random. Also, considering the northerner griffons didn’t use such tableware, he had no idea where they had come from. They were delicious and nutritious, though. He slurped a few into his mouth, and chewed the crunchy irony-y delicacy, making sure to show his satisfactory appraisal. Although he stopped with the slurping because it seemed rude.

Griffons eating and talking at the table became a merry breakfast. Despite the obvious importance of the sitting order, with the ‘welcomed uninvited’ politely sitting at the end of the table. A couple of ladies talked as loudly as the males and it soon became a noisy banter. Comments, jokes, and a few playful challenges were casually thrown around. Like friends at a meeting. Except one was to be the king of all griffons eventually, and that was not something Discord could see in all places of Equestria. Even little Gilberta, Gwendolen’s captive cub, and her friends joined the table and ate, listening to the adults. Eventually, even the pretty yellow griffoness with the flower tattoos showed up. Nobody asked about the whipping marks on her back, but they made Discord wince. Only the southerner soldier Discord wanted to meet was missing, as well as Lady Gwendolen.

If only these griffons didn’t have such disregard for the hippogriffs. Every second he spent in that place convinced Discord further ponies and griffons should work together. Maybe bash heads until they flattened their edges a little. Celestia’s and Gwendolen’s combined power, with their subjects, could make short work of anything. Even the Windigos wouldn’t be able to stand against them.

Speaking of Windigos, Discord could only hope they delivered the message he sent to Twilight. With luck, the Windigos would be none the wiser.

Nonetheless…

“Milord, where is Lady Gwendolen?” One of the boisterous, older griffons, asked Gilad. “I like you a lot, but her face is prettier.”

Right. She usually was up earlier than anyone and ominously watching the maids working. Maybe she slept late that morning? Right on cue, she walked from the door leading further inside the mansion.

“Worry not, Lord Gabe.” All feline grace despite her tired eyes. She kept her majesty with her sheer size and confidence. She had even taken the time to preen her feathers. Even then, something was not as it used to be. “I shall grace your breakfast with my pretty visage.”

The sun finally came up outside, just as Gwendolen sat at the table next to Lord Gilad and griffons silenced. Immediately, the maids offered Lady Gwendolen all the food and the bloodwine she liked so much while she washed her paws. She took a sip of it before she took the caribou rib in her paws to cleanly tear a piece off with her beak. Her tiredness was blatant. The graceful, fluid movements were there, but they lacked their usual snappiness. Her crown of black feathers rested flatter than her usual glorious crest. Most importantly, she was simply minding her food instead of constantly judging everyone.

Gwendolen must have been busy with the dying griffons and whatever had happened at Griffonstone. She might be an ancient and ridiculously powerful being, but the flesh needed sleep, regardless of how powerful the soul.

“Is everything alright, Lady Gwendolen?” The same griffon, Gabe, shifted from his jocose tone.

“No.” She complained with her unique ‘you have failed me’ disappointed way of speaking, and a frown at her food. “This rib was roasted past medium rare.”

The headmaid immediately went to her. “I am sorry, Lady Gwendolen. I will get you another.”

“It is not necessary.” She smiled at the older griffoness, still minding her meat.

Oh. She was in a good and forgiving mood, after all. Just tired. Discord was not the only one to notice and griffons returned to their food and mindless banter. Finally, Gilad let go of the bone he was pecking and washed down his beak with a good gulp of mead.

“Any news from Griffonstone, Gwendolen?” He held his flagon, turning to her to broach the obvious subject.

“Northerner griffons and our southerner supporters have completely left the city.” She looked down at the meaty bone in her paws. “Celestia ordered the loyalist forces to allow them to leave. Along the way southerner supporters destroyed vital intelligence the Griffonian Government had on us. Several important griffons in the government have been slain and Griffonia should soon fall into chaos. The way to Griffonstone is nigh open. All we need is for Grigory to return to Griffindell with the pony princesses and the evidence of Celestia’s wrongdoing to reach us. I would also prefer if my new Swordmaiden had time to acclimate and develop her skills, but we may be in a rush after all. It will depend on how Celestia reacts.”

“That sounds like a particularly dishonorable thing to do…” Discord put down a fork. He should have kept his mouth shut, but it seemed like something Chrysalis would do. “If Celestia offered the northerner supporters succor to leave, they should have left. Not exploited an act of goodwill. One shouldn’t ever punish chivalry in their opponent. Celestia gave you a chance to withdraw, and you punished it. Harshly.”

Gwendolen’s smile changed. It was friendly, inviting and calm. It shifted into a predatory grin. “This is the curious thing, Lord of Chaos. The northerners left. With the exception of Gwineth. You see… Griffonstone is full of griffons who believe they will earn a place among the nobility of the New Empire if they make a display of fervorous loyalty. They fool themselves believing they suddenly are noble defenders of the northerner customs and culture after a lifetime of sin.”

She let the picked-clean bone to rest on her plate. “Most of them will come to the North believing they have earned comfortable places. They will look at the northerner lords and ladies and think of themselves as their equals. They are, in the sense they are griffons, but honor cannot be bought as government positions can. Some of them will change. They will take after the example of the northerner heroes, and they will carve legacies and honored tales for themselves. That is, however, due of any griffon with the tenacity to try. Most will soon find at the chopping block, that their new lieges cannot be bought. And that the easy life of exploitation they led in the south happened to be their doom. It is a harsh lesson to learn, but one the others will not forget. Ultimately, they will grow, and their kind will grow stronger. Hopefully, a lesson they will learn and bring back with their souls when they are ready to return to the land of the living.”

Discord didn’t answer. He worried about griffons, but it was easier to worry about his friend than crooked, flag-swapping griffons. Celestia being late was a sign something had gone wrong. Now he knew.

“Additionally,” Lady Gwendolen spoke again, holding her glass of bloodwine. “Lady Gladys and Lady Guella were murdered by a cowardly mercenary in the employ of the southerners. Colonel Gustav and Colonel Gast died trying to assassinate the Chancellor. But one of our spies is on her way with details of Griffonian troop movements. We should expect an attack against Thunderpeak. But we knew that already.”

Gilad hummed and waved his flagon at Lord Graham next to him, who nodded respectfully. “That is already being taken care of, Milord, Milady. Between the local populace, the Stormrend Manor’s griffons at arms, the detachment from Griffindell’s Sky Sentry and Madam Gaetana’s leadership, I can foresee no issues.”

The large griffoness smiled, letting her glass of wine rest on the table. “But, above all… Gwineth has slain Chocolate Velvet in combat.”

Eyes raised from their plates and a few beaks hung open. Gilad let his flagon fall to the table and mead spilled all over before it clanged to the floor. The color drained from his eyes and Discord could practically read his thoughts… They were supposed to find a way to ease Celestia and Gwendolen into some sort of truce. It seemed near impossible now.

Discord cleared his throat and crossed his fingers, letting his elbows rest on the table. His eyes closed and the only thing on his mind were recollections of him shunning Celestia’s heartfelt knight and then his hilariously pathetic attempt at downing Twilight’s airship with his sword and magic.

His calm expression turned into a frown he aimed at Gwendolen. “He was my friend.”

“You should have a better taste in friends.” Her words would have infuriated Discord if she had said it sarcastically. While gears spun in Gilad’s head and other griffons cheered a victory, her mixed tone of ‘I told you so’ and genuine empathy made him lid his eyes. It somehow hurt even more because it meant she was genuinely so convinced of her misguided beliefs. It would have been much easier if Discord hadn’t liked her. If the griffons hadn’t become so dependent and enamored with her. “Ultimately, he was an enemy fighting at the behest of my greatest enemy.”

“If this loss hurts you.” He almost begged her to stop feeling sorry for him. “You should come closer to Lord Gabe. Not that I would ever compare him to an alicorn abomination. One made at a laboratory, no less. Lord Gabe however was once enamored with the vapid and superfluous, frilly ideals held by the Equestrian Vagrant Knights. He saw that true monster hunters are bred and forged in the cold of Snow Mountains.”

“I’ll drink to that, m’lady.” The griffon in question, dark gray and white raised his flagon with a laugh. He turned to the others with another raucous laugh. “I bet none of you milk drinkers even knew this, but I was born in Canterlot. I joined the Chivalry Society, or whatever it was called, and tracked monsters to slay. Until I came here and Lord Gorsand of Stormvalley hammered my sorry ass into an actual monster hunter! I haven’t looked back since!”

He concluded with a large gulp of his mead. The female next to him said something, but Discord’s mind was far from there. It dwelled on how that was exactly what made Chocolate unique. He actually followed those knightly precepts. It is what really made Celestia and Luna fall in love with him. His sincerity and his loyalty that many seemed to never have noticed because they were too busy trying to get closer to the princesses.

Still, another thing wrenched at Discord’s thoughts. “Celestia was late with the sun, and that bodes badly. Let me go see Celestia.”

Gwendolen responded with her austere tone. “After you give me the key to the Throne of Life.”

“You know I can’t.”

“You worry for her.” Gwendolen relaxed a little, again showing that infuriating domineering empathy of hers. “In reality, so do I, in my own way. She is a misguided rebel who must be reined-in and brought back to her place. We are fighting a war and mortals are our weapons. Give me the key to the Throne of Life and I will end this litany of pain she has created.”

Discord again closed his eyes. His heart, quite literally trespassed with a sword, hurt more than most pains he had endured. “You are playing with fire. She can’t reach Twilight and Cadance. She can’t reach me, and I am sure Luna won’t react well either. Don’t put Celestia against a corner. You will not like what you will see.”

Gwendolen smiled, back with the predatorial, eagle-like grin. “You will learn that as the cycles of Creation ended and began anew, I have become exceedingly good at cornering her.”

***

Eventually the flashes from outside stopped. Thunder no longer rumbled in the sky and the light of the moon reigned above the lightless city. The pops and bangs of gunpowder ceased. The rain relented, and an eventual whoop of celebration could be heard along the now silent buildings. The incessant dripping from the destroyed ceiling, with its broken and charred, planks remained. The pooled water, stained with blood, soaked into the carpet and the wooden floor. Still chilly, despite the humid and hot air after the storm, the smell of blood inflamed Celestia’s nose.

The body under the blood-stained sheet remained as unmoving as it was when Celestia arrived at the library. She hadn’t moved either since she sat next to it and her back ached. Her eyes kept fixated on it, but her thoughts barely registered the images they generated in her mind. It drifted aimlessly, empty as the magic that should radiate from underneath that red and white tarp.

How did this happen? She had explicitly ordered the northerner supporters to be allowed through the teleporter. They exploited her goodwill; that was what happened. Traitors within the military turned on the city and attacked loyalist Griffonian elements. Then they used it as cover to try and destroy evidence of their wrongdoing. More than that, a criminal living outside the system, sponsored by Lord Gilad, attacked a hospital. She freed a northerner supporter under investigation and caused so much chaos the city turned to a battlefield. The law-enforcement stretched thin to protect innocent lives. Amid all that Celestia had left her Consort to guard a Royal Justiciar and a dangerous magical weapon.

As the curtains closed, Miss Mallet obtained useful information and the local militia gained the upper hoof against the northerner supporters. The Royal Guard assisted them in restoring peace and seemed to be the only thing which worked as intended. Celestia herself helped. In the chaos and conflicting information, the northerners still escaped through the teleporter. In their territory, they would disappear. The wanted criminal recovered her sword, and she too disappeared.

A frown crept into Celestia’s brow; her head pulsated like it wanted to burst apart. Funny how the teleporter couldn’t connect to any other facilities, except for the one on Thunderpeak. Celestia understood teleportation, but admittedly, the artificial magic of the teleporters confused her. Maybe it was possible because both cities were under the storm? Either way, she wouldn’t be surprised if the teleporter on Thunderpeak suddenly ‘broke down’ as soon as authorities tried to chase the northerners.

An ancient evil had returned and that was almost like a joke in itself. The newspapers would once again say Celestia failed to properly deal with something in the past. That it fell to the Bearers of The Elements of Harmony to fix it. Like Nightmare Moon, Tirek, Discord, King Sombra…

And then, Chocolate Velvet was dead, and that too would make it to the newspapers. Some might even celebrate. Would they mention it was Celestia who left him to take care of the Justiciar while she helped the griffons? That he took the brunt of the traitorous military subterfuge while she was out there, helping griffons? Griffons who pointed at her and said she was the problem because she didn’t fix their crooked political system. What would Griffonstone’s newspapers say?

The northerner hen killed him. The criminal sponsored by Lord Gilad. The Lion. That honorable and distinct leader who had, years ago, filled Celestia with hope for his race and the future of his nation. She killed Chocolate Velvet. Celestia couldn’t seem to convince herself of that. The words didn’t seem to fit together.

Meanwhile, The Harpy pulled strings, hiding in that cursed city. The same city where ages ago Celestia had chosen to respect the northerner griffons at the end of the bloodiest war in the entirety of history. Because Celestia had believed them to be honored. Millenia later, they harbored criminals.

The white alicorn shook her head softly. Her mane was soaked with dirty water and her tiara missing because she had given it to help the griffons. Her pelt covered in grit, cold and aching as much as her heart. Wasn’t there someone who said doing the same thing repeatedly while expecting different results defined insanity? Another wicked monster from the distant past returned. Over and over, it went… The Harpy. The Lion. The Griffonian Standing Army. Time and again, she had believed the problem solved, only for it to return and take her loving knight away.

She sighed and shook her head again, shooing away the thoughts of doom. Most griffons just wanted to live in peace. Gilmara never betrayed her. That nice griffon lady put her life in danger to protect company bonds from those thugs. No… Griffons as a race were not the problem. It was The Harpy. Gilad changed. Celestia didn’t know how, but The Harpy was responsible for what happened.

Celestia shook her head again. No… It wasn’t The Harpy. It was herself. She seemed to not learn that lesson. But what was she supposed to do? Celestia trusted them, and they betrayed her. They abused her tendency to see the good in creatures. Her head hurt so much. Thinking became hard as navigating in a forest through a fog. When she tried to silence her thoughts all that remained were feelings and guilt hounded her like a timberwolf.

Her throat tied into a knot and her eyes burned, glistening with tears. The only creature she should have protected laid motionless before her. No more bad jokes. No more senseless expressions. No more smiles or hopeful enthusiasm. No more insecure rants about his inability to please the Chivalric Society nor silly frustration with the Mayor’s wife trying to buy him with too modest a sum. Should she have plainly sided with him more often? Celestia thought she was helping him become more secure in his skills.

A sobbing whinny escaped, and her legs reached for the bloody tarp. It would’ve been better not to, as it was so cold, but she couldn’t find the strength to let go. He should have reached back to hug her, but he wouldn’t ever again. No more caring embraces, no more kisses and no more passionate antics seasoned with his immature sense of humor.

It was not fair. Good deeds were supposed to be rewarded! That was how Equestria worked! Or was it just her kindergarten of failed magical constructs… Sarcasm did little to alleviate the pain.

The royal guards came into the broken library with Crucible Wings when they heard her cry. It filled her with shame, but how to stop? All her power, all her innate knowledge about how the flesh and arcane energies of her world worked; none of it helped her. The three ponies, two pegasi and a unicorn simply stared at her, as powerless as she was. She knew they missed him too.

Then a familiar and intrusive feeling tugged at the back of her mind. Not now! She ignored it. She had been ignoring it for some time. Chocolate’s body was cold and lifeless, but she wanted to stay with him. Again, it tugged at her mind, insistently as a spoiled foal who wouldn’t hear ‘no’ for an answer. She ignored it yet again, clinging to the body beneath the thick tarp. Couldn’t she even mourn in peace?

It insisted. It pulled constantly like a full bladder about to burst. Finally, she let go and screamed. “Fine! I’m going!”

Her outburst startled the guards, but they kept their confusion to themselves as she marched to the broken wall. Darkness greeted her, after Luna’s Moon had already been retrieved by her sister. Wherever she was. Celestia’s horn filled with golden light, washing over the broken pieces of bricks and gypsum. Instants later the sun mimicked her and washed the city with its glory.

Few isolated clouds remained and cast negligible shadows over the griffon city. The sun’s light washed the gloom away. The capital of Griffonia was reborn under a blue sky and comforting warmth. From her vantage point Celestia could see a couple of colorful griffons working to fix the city’s damaged infrastructure. They stared at the sky. Others already collected the debris and one griffon carted supplies somewhere. They too welcomed the sun. One or two gave happy hops and flaps of their wings, welcoming the new day with renewed hope.

A much better sunrise than that cursed city deserved. A much better sunrise than that unfair world deserved, where Lady Gwendolen would wake up and meet with her Lord Gilad. He would kiss her, and they would go about her day of ruining Celestia’s. A new day for the filthy, rot smelling, murderous hen who had killed Chocolate Velvet to frolic under her sun’s light.

A frown made into her brow when Celestia reminded herself dwelling in anger wouldn’t help. She directed her attention from the griffons to the sky. Her horn shone a second time as she spoke. “Luna?”

“Luna, answer me!” The three ponies kept staring at her. Little birds started their morning routine, chirping their songs as though nothing had happened. “Discord? Are you there? Please answer me!”

Her teeth ground together. Now the accursed storm had cleared, a divination mirror would allow her to speak to Admiral Gloria. Despite that, Celestia’s headache returned with a vengeance, and she tired of staring at the griffon city. Turning around, she saw two ponies had arrived. An unarmored royal guard Celestia recognized because the pony often ran messages between guards. A cyan and gray Cloudsdale pegasus, always so proud of serving in a humble yet so important role. With her came one of the Royal Guard’s field doctors, patiently waiting to have Celestia’s attention.

Celestia truly wished she had a better mood to smile and patiently wait until the pony stopped treating her like a religious icon. Not this morning. Her voice came dry and her frown cruel above her still glistening eyes. “What?”

The cute little pony winced, and her ears perked. She initially struggled with words as Celestia’s headache brought her to a hair’s width of ordering the pony to speak already. Finally, the guard managed to report. “We have several messengers which have just arrived. Ah… Through the teleporter. They… They managed to get it to connect with teleporters across the ocean, you know. And, uh… there is a griffon. You should talk to him.”

“What griffon?” Celestia’s frown softened a touch. “Why should I talk to him?”

The doctor whose name Celestia couldn’t remember started talking in the messenger’s stead. “During the assault. We detained a griffon. He didn’t want to retreat or surrender, even as the others called a retreat. We managed to subdue him on the lower levels. We have other prisoners, but he seemed different.”

“I do not have the patience for this, and I already have enough of a headache.” She spoke plainly. And a griffon. About the last species she wanted to see. She wanted an herbal tea, not to look at one of those murderous cartbirds. “What is special about this griffon?”

“He seems to be suffering from some sort of delusion…” The pony medic started but failed to soften Celestia’s stare over him. “He believes his wife and unborn cub are waiting for him after death… He was prepared to fight us to death because of that. He believes that dying fighting us would have granted him such benefit.”

“Take me to him. I will see the messengers next.” She started walking, but as she walked around the table where Chocolate Velvet was, she stopped. Her eyes refused to shift away. She closed them and forced her legs to walk. “Chaser, come.”

Celestia thanked the heavens she managed to remember the messenger’s name. She didn’t deserve to suffer for Celestia’s misfortunes. She also thanked the pony doctor who obeyed without the usual frills of bowing. As she was about to leave the room before the pair, Crucible talked to her. His voice mimicked much of her sadness and marred his usually secure voice. “I’ll prepare Prince Chocolate Velvet for transport to Canterlot… For his burial.”

“Please do.” She finally managed to soften her crumpled brow, but never looked at him. She also turned back to the door before she allowed herself to stare too long at the white and red tarp covering Chocolate’s body.

Thankfully the doctor took the lead, guiding Celestia toward the place her guards had secured their special detainee while the messenger pegasus followed behind her. A mercifully short and eventless trip took them down the stairs to the second floor. They reached a series of rooms, some sort of lodging for agents. Celestia lacked the mental fortitude to try and decipher what the corridor was used for and accepted the first theory to pop into her mind.

After the fight, royal guards turned the rooms into cells. They patrolled the windowless corridor with the standard issue gas lamps providing light. In the first room her guards had started to sort the griffons’ weapons and she stopped at the door for a moment to see.

Standing Army Standard Issue wheellock muskets and pistols, some grenades, and bayonets. Also, a collection of northerner-produced weapons. Rifles and stubby firearms. Celestia recognized the magazines with multiple bullets to be fired sequentially. And more advanced grenades, she supposed. Leave it to a griffon to make killing more efficient.

They had progressed much faster than Celestia anticipated with their tools for killing. In retrospect, her preparedness might have been much more advanced had Celestia known what she now knew. Fortunately, the research on the ponies’ own advanced weapons progressed rapidly. The prototypes onboard the Break of Dawn would serve them well, and maybe mass production could be rushed after the tests. If only for the Royal Guard. The Standing Armies would certainly not be getting magical weapons capable of disintegrating bodies and damaging souls.

Her guards had also begun disassembling the weapons to be sent to Canterlot for analysis, but she didn’t tarry. She followed the doctor and passed several doors. Many open, she could see injured griffons receiving medical treatment or food. Many of them had their paws shackled, mostly the northerner griffons who had been captured. Celestia could see their fiercer northerner visage plainly. Even through the shame and dejection of having been captured. They wouldn’t look her in the eyes and remained silent.

Unfortunately, none of them was the northerner hen who had stolen Chocolate Velvet from her.

They finally reached the final door in the corridor. It ended on a white wall with a lone artificial light fixture which had no power. An open door into an emptied closet with a single griffon sitting on the wooden floor. A pair of guards at the door with another looking directly at him. The procedure for prisoners who could not be left alone and must absolutely not have access to any sort of potential tool or weapon. It prompted Celestia to look at the doctor.

“I feared he would try to kill himself. His name is Garon.”

“Ah… I’ve heard of him.” Celestia immediately chastised herself for the cynical tone, which caused the griffon to close his eyes. “I apologize, Mister Garon. I am not myself right now. I didn’t mean to single you out.”

He started, but stopped, then started talking again. Softly and directing his eyes to the floor. “I don’t blame you.”

Celestia might not be as good reading griffons as she was reading ponies, but he didn’t mean to be confrontational. Garon was a big and strong griffon that seemed to lack social polish. The kind that liked to deal with absolutes and simplified the world around him to fit into his simplistic dogmas. The kind of creature who would endear themselves with a lady with too high an opinion of her skills and a penchant for spectacle.

Both the kind of creature an insidious and manipulative authority figure would cater to.

Celestia knew him to be a local militagriffon. Also, the kind to benefit from Gilmara’s no-nonsense, unostentatious leadership. His physique beneath his Griffonstone tan and white colors fit. Strong muscles, quite a beautiful creature. At some point a griffon lady had found some beauty hidden beneath his boorish exterior and decided she wanted to live her life with him and have a cub. Now he was a broken creature. All the pride usually found on his kind had drained from his eyes. Celestia chose to feel for his loss of wife and cub, rather than allow her vengeful thoughts to color her opinion of him.

“I am sorry for your loss, Mister Garon. I have not reviewed any files, but I know that Gilmara would not work with any griffon less dedicated than she.”

He closed his eyes again and took his paws to them. His shoulders jumped with sobbing followed by a shrill breathless whine. Wailing crying, a dejected griffon abandoned by both sides inside his one-dimensional vision of the world.

In her heart of hearts Celestia cursed her sympathetic pony brain which forbade her finding pleasure in the pain of one who took part in the death of her consort. Nonetheless, she waited for the griffon to compose himself after a couple of minutes. He stared at her again, red-eyed, and rattling breath. “I will tell you everything you want to know, Princess.”

“Help me understand this idea that you might see your wife and cub who passed away.” Truthfully, schools didn’t approach the subject, but it was part of the folklore. The souls of creatures which passed away were carried in the flux of magical energy back to the Pool of Souls. They lost most of their individuality and ‘rested’, waiting to be summoned back to the world of the living. Celestia knew it to be true. It was the normal functioning of the world.

The griffon, Garon, stared at his yellow, leathery open paws, shackled together before he spoke. “Genie was at the hospital… She went in for one of those periodical motherhood exams. When they attacked. Panicked citizens ran to the HQ and we hooked up with the grunts at the Chancellor’s palace. They covered us when we went into the hospital… I wasn’t with the first group, but on the clean-up. I found her body… Genie… Dead on the floor, covered in blood and debris from the explosion.”

He crumbled again, closing his fist close to his chest, whining, and closing his eyes so tight. But he sucked it up and sighed at Celestia, speaking through his sorrow. “I am sorry. I… We picked up the northerner hen… Gwineth after your highness was done with her. I wanted to murder her, and when the Lord Protector told us of your plan, I signed up. I was hoping she would create problems, just so I could beat the snot out of her.”

He took a moment to reorient his thoughts, staring at the floor then at Celestia. He shrugged. “She lost it. We tried taking her out and she freaking lost it. I tried hitting her with my baton… I wanted to beat her into a pulp until she was as dead as Genie.”

He let his voice trail into silence as though he too had trouble believing what he was about to say. Initially, he struggled with the words. Then he finally spit them out, putting his paws down as if the gesture made it easier. “She appeared. And She held my paw with the baton. I don’t know how else to say it.”

“She told Gwineth some words. Something about a prophecy. I didn’t understand. But… It hit hard; you know?” He spoke in a lower tone, knowing full well he wasn’t making sense. “I… We… All. Everyone realized there was something extraordinary going on. Then Miss Gwineth forgave me. She said she granted me the Allmother’s forgiveness. And that I might see Genie and our cub again if I worked with her.”

So, he did. Celestia said nothing, and neither did the royal guards. He went on after a couple of seconds of awkward silence. “She said that if I died an honorable death the northerners would bury me as a brother and my soul would have a chance of reaching the Stormy Eyrie. That I would find them there.”

Celestia frowned and stared at him in silence, despite the obvious sensation he was done telling his story.

Something weird was going on. Could Gwineth merely be making up stories to get him to work with her? No, that was not it. She didn’t need to if Catbird Supreme arrived with smoke and mirrors to dazzle them straight from the start. That poor griffon. A victim first and foremost, turned into a pawn in a cruel game that ultimately had nothing to do with him, his wife, or their unborn cub.

The same could be said of Gwineth. A child abandoned with her brother. He lost himself to gambling. She lost herself into prostitution because of a brother that used her to pay his debts. How did that escape Celestia’s notice? Strangely, they didn’t really. A local welfare agent tried to help them, but they slipped between the cracks. In the end they fell prey to The Harpy.

The Harpy probably revealed herself to a dejected and young Gwineth and lifted her up into her champion. Celestia’s expression changed into a frown. That hen was a terrible fighter. She lacked proper edge alignment on most of her cuts. She telegraphed her moves because of all the fancy theatrics, and she followed basic sequences. She was a dancer, not a fighter. Chocolate Velvet should have wiped the floor with her. The only probable reason she defeated him was because she had help. From the traitorous griffons. And because Chocolate focused on protecting Miss Mallet. None of that mess was even remotely fair.

Given a few more years, Chocolate Velvet would have become an unstoppable force. Even with Celestia enabling his knightly pursuits of humble, slow personal growth as a champion and protector of the little folk. Now he laid lifeless. He gave his life to protect Miss Mallet, and left Celestia behind. The Harpy killed him. She sacrificed him to Gwineth’s ego. Had it been a fair fight, he would likely have subdued Gwineth and restrained her.

Fortunately, The Harpy likely didn’t know Celestia had examined her spell in the storm; she had time to react. If anything, Celestia had the element of surprise. But what about Luna? Why didn’t she answer? Did something happen to Luna? Dwelling on it wouldn’t help and would only make Celestia paranoid.

More importantly, in the present cycle Hairball seems to have changed strategy. In the past she remained hidden, and only after Celestia retired did she try anything. She grew closer to the disenfranchised, preying on their weaknesses. Perhaps a young lord who lost his father to the monsters. Maybe it was Discord’s interference at the end of the Republic that caused her to attempt something different. Yes, that must be it, it was the great difference between the cycles.

Celestia frowned. The Harpy was attempting to garner numbers, much like she did with the Empire. She sought more power, which she would gain through worship, which was the point of all the insanity of the Empire. But why?

Celestia’s jaw hung open. For a brief instant, she wished the answer had not come to her. The Harpy meant to kill her. Destroy Celestia’s soul with superior ancestral magic powered by the worship of millions upon millions of fanatical griffons. Suddenly, Emperor Grigor’s insanity made sense. He had been promised to be The Harpy’s sword with which to destroy Celestia.

Celestia’s body tensed. Sweet Harmony! Creator of Worlds and Master of Destinies… The Harpy meant to destroy her soul. And with Discord’s interference, which caused all of them to be trapped in the realm of the mortals, The Harpy had a perfect opportunity. Especially after Celestia ended the cult of the Alicorn Goddesses. Once again, Celestia’s proclivity for good doomed her.

Her eyes found the griffon staring up at her. Her royal guards, also staring up at her, expectantly waiting for her to say something. None had even a shred of a chance to understand the terror that had gripped her stomach. Especially with Twilight and Cadance, so confused, walking right into her talons. What if Luna did betray Celestia? What about Discord? What did she promise them? Celestia’s legs grew weaker, and she thanked Harmony that her stomach was empty.

“Princess.” The small messenger pegasus called her sheepishly but drew her out of her thoughts. Celestia gathered her jaw and turned to her. “The ponies from the heartland. They said their messages are terribly important.”

She nodded mindlessly before she turned to Garon. “Thank you, Mister Garon. I am sorry for your loss.”

She spoke, but the words really meant nothing. The simple attempt at organizing her thoughts taxed her. Words came only after seconds of wait. “Crucible, please have these griffons transferred to the local militia as soon as Lord Protector Gilmara is ready to receive them.”

The armored pony blinked thrice, as though he tried to clear his thoughts of interfering which made him hear something wrong. “Your highness. Is that wise?”

“They are not. Prisoners. Of war.” Celestia turned to leave, then turned again to him. The right words came slowly and, curse it all, they noticed it. She turned again and walked off from the open door and the other guards, not to let them see her distraught expression. “They are not in Royal Guard jurisdiction in this situation. They are criminals and… And Griffonia’s legal system must deal with them.”

To be honest, Celestia wasn’t entirely sure she cared anymore. A hole gaped in her chest and her job didn’t seem to fit in it. On top of that, there was a murderous griffoness intent on killing her. It seemed as though she should have worried more about that griffon thoroughly believing he was to see his wife after death. But her mind wouldn’t focus… She saw the world through a fog of fear and loneliness.

As she wandered aimlessly past the staircase, Miss Chaser rushed ahead of her and did that pesky hum that insecure ponies did before they talked to her. “Princess… They are waiting for you at the entrance lobby.”

Celestia quickly apologized and turned around with both guards in tow. Down the stairs she walked into the entrance lobby which also showed signs of fighting, but someone had cleaned the blood and debris away. A spartan room with a reception desk and several sitting pillows. An access to the staircases in the back and nothing more but the open doors.

As her pegasus messenger royal guard had told her, quite a few ponies sat around the room, patiently waiting. A unicorn from Canterlot wearing the red and gold frills uniform of the hall of Friendship’s helping staff. The others were Royal Guard recruits wearing the light version of the golden armor reserved for non-combat functions. All of them stared at her like they expected something out of her.

Celestia would’ve found it endearing on another day. She stopped by the pillows and waited while they stared at her like lost puppies. What was she supposed to tell them? Words refused to form inside her head. Crucible rescued her, stepping forward and addressing them. “Which one of you arrived first?”

The colorful ponies exchanged stares, each expecting the other to claim they were the first. Finally, one of the recruits shrugged. A pink and wine earth pony. “We all arrived at the same time as soon as the teleporter connected to the network. Actually, the teleporter had some trouble-”

“Please.” Celestia interrupted her curtly. “You speak first.”

The messenger pony put up her hooves. “Well, I am here to tell Your Highness that the detachment from the First Fleet arrived at Shallow Valley base.”

Celestia shook her head and frowned, letting her ears droop. “I am sorry, what?”

“The escort frigates… The Competent and the Honorable. They have arrived at Shallow Valley, as per your orders.”

Celestia immediately frowned and pulled back her ears. “I did not order any ships to part from the First Fleet.”

“Well…” A gray griffon male under an adapted Royal Guard armor spoke next. “The Manticore, the Formidable, and the Swift have all arrived at High Rock Point.”

“What is this madness? I never ordered any ship to split from the fleet!” She cried and scowled. A thousand possibilities jumped to her mind. A coup. The Harpy already unleashing whatever end-game plan she had before Celestia had even prepared. Miscommunication. Treason.

The other ponies started talking over each other, flooding her ears with useless information and pushed her deeper into the fog. “Silence! Who ordered the ships to split from the fleet? Where is the Break of Dawn?”

Her reaction scared the ponies into submission. They silenced with scared eyes and folded ears. They again shared stares between themselves until one of them, a small purple and indigo unicorn raised his hoof. “Their orders… Once the Unshattered and the Phenomenal arrived in Baltimare, were to wait. They were signed by Admiral Gloria. She explicitly included that by your personal and direct command the fleet was to split into individual groups and head to different docks.”

“I did not! I ordered the entirety of the armada to travel to Baltimare! How did this happen?” Celestia let her wings flare open and her voice raised enough that it drew the nearby royal guards further inside the building and griffon rescue workers from outside. Her large and elegant body tensed; a hoof struck the wooden floor.

“Where is the Break of Dawn now?” She yelled, ignoring the panicked stares and shivering ponies. One of them, a white and blonde earth pony, barely managed to string the words together into a coherent phrase at first.

Only at a third try she managed to speak. “It’s… It’s been downed!”

Celestia heard the words, but the sounds refused to connect into sensible ideas inside her head. “What do you mean she’s been downed?”

“There was a mutiny aboard and she was lost.” The pony yelled and hid behind her hooves. “Reports from survivors say there was an explosion and then the griffons rebelled. With the support ships far from the fleet…”

“What of Twilight Sparkle? And Cadance? Shining Armor, Flurry Heart? What of the Bearers and what of the griffons?! Grigory and his friends? What of Admiral Gloria?! Where are they?”

“The princesses have escaped on the Magic of Friendship with the griffons, princess!” The pony blurted out and hesitated before she spoke again. “Admiral Gloria has been killed in the mutiny. I… I am sorry.”

Celestia sat on the floor and coughed when her stomach tried to empty its already empty self. She swallowed bile, if only not to let them see her like that. Her head spun again, and her muscles failed to respond to her commands. The large and majestic creature opened her wings as pegasi do when they lose their sense of spatial orientation. Her horn swayed from one side to the other as her large frame collapsed. Ponies and griffons cried and jumped to help her. Crucible Wings held her as much as he could.

When she remembered to breathe again, he helped her sit straight, but her eyes remained unfocused, and her mouth hung open. Admiral Gloria? Dead?! Their largest warship, with the prototype weapons! At the doors of war! All those ponies from the Ponyville Local Militia! She didn’t know what questions to ask first. Celestia’s legs weakened, and her head spun, but her forelegs kept her steady this time, spreading apart. The griffons had another of those metal monstrosities ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. Twilight and Cadance have abandoned her, and she couldn’t contact Luna for whatever Harmony forsaken reason.

Chocolate Velvet was dead. It would be him holding her so that she didn’t fall. She could have trusted him to do anything in that cursed situation, but she had lost him. Images of his smile kept forcing themselves into her mind. Celestia was alone, her thoughts screamed at her.

The Harpy was loose and Celestia was alone. Twilight and Cadance… Even Luna may have joined The Harpy. Why? How? Answers didn’t come to her. All was a fog of desperate thoughts and premonitions of doom. How did it get this bad? Was it Grigory who poisoned Twilight’s mind? Was it Luna? Did she help The Harpy?

Celestia lost control of her breathing and it came out in short gasps. Why didn’t Luna answer her calls? She coughed again. She could hear Crucible’s voice, distant past the haze surrounding her head. A griffon lady in the firefighters’ garment offered her something to drink and ponies pleaded for her to calm down.

Luna. Twilight… Cadance. They abandoned her for the griffons. Even Discord. They abandoned her for The Harpy! Celestia could see her conceited smile pulling at her black beak and her gray eyes, terrifyingly focused on her. She came within a heartbeat of calling Chocolate Velvet to her before the memory of his cold body covered in the bloody white tarp caught up to her.

“I don’t understand! How did she do this? Was Gloria working for her all along? Sweet Harmony, how did she manage to split the fleet to let Grigory escape with Twilight?” Suddenly Celestia grimaced. The headache had never stopped, it drilled into her head with a piercing whine she could not stop hearing. But the answer came to her. Her brow pursed into a fierce scowl not usual on the soft and amicable face of The Princess. Her eyes focused and a single name escaped her throat, covered in flames of wrath. “Chrysalis!”

Her eyes scanned the room. Suddenly a swarm of shapeshifting magical predators surrounded her. They hid behind every corner. Behind every pillar. Under every carpet and pillow. Inside every pony and griffon. She raised from her flanks and took a step back. Her wings raised defensively. Her horn flared with golden light, and her breathing came in shallow, quick bursts.

Crucible Wings watched her distance herself and stood too. He raised a hoof with a confused frown. “Celestia? Are you okay?”

“Back!” She commanded with a high-pitched neigh, tossing her head, and flaying her mane. Her ears flattened back, and she distanced herself with slow, heavy steps on the wood. “Stay back!”

They did exactly what she commanded and stepped back. Crucible did too, letting his wings sag from his sides. “Princess Celestia, you need to stop and rest for a bit. This is too much. You’ve been through too much. Please, calm down.”

She still took backward steps. Nervous eyes shifting, head swiveling. Heavy, fast breathing. Her nares were flared open. Her eyes wide beneath a deep scowl. She could see his fangs and black carapace hiding beneath her sergeant’s pelt. “Silence!”

She turned on a nervous jump and the ponies at the stairs distanced themselves. One of them watched from the top of the first flight of stairs, hiding behind the wall, trembling enough to make his armor clink. But she could see them. She could hear them. Their tense clicking noises. She could smell their caustic magic, like bleach, burning her throat, washing over her like prickly little legs, chittering all over her. Forked tongues and fangs, mocking her.

They sided with the griffons and Chrysalis has betrayed Celestia for The Harpy. Grigory… That entitled hairball dragged Twilight and Cadance away from her. She put all of them against Celestia and Chrysalis’ minions swarmed around her. Hiding behind worried eyes and sympathetic stares. But she could see them all! Not again! She would not be fooled again!

Her head snapped to the side at the slightest movement, but she chuckled. Her breath came out noisy with a barrage of poundings inside her chest. She talked to them with a low and threatening tone. “I see you… I see all of you. How foolish of me. I should never have trusted you so openly.”

She gave a threatening grin with a long exclamation. “She thinks she’s won, but she hasn’t. She doesn’t know yet, but she hasn’t won. I will scorch this world barren and lifeless, but I will not let her take it. I will not submit to her again.”

“Celestia…” Crucible Wings whispered with a deathly worried frown. “It’s me. Crucible Wings. Your sergeant. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re scaring us. And more importantly, you’re not well. Please, calme yourself.”

“Silence! Changeling! Shapeshifter… Cursed abomination! I should have ended you!” She coughed again. “I should have ended your race when I banished Farfalla! You think I have gone soft, don’t you? You forgot what I can do!”

“Do you hear me?!” She cried to the ceiling. Her hindlegs buckled and she almost fell out of balance, but hooves skipping on the floor, she stood again. Where was the white gypsum ceiling, dark clouds covered the sky, teeming with Her abhorrent power, rumbling with thunder. But Celestia didn’t fear it. She laughed.

“You forgot something! You arrogant demon. Your filthy assassin failed. The ignorant hen. You can’t take my Chocolate Velvet from me! I will show you!” She laughed, as arrogantly as she dared. “I have means. I will show you! I will show all of you!”

Two royal guards approached her with Crucible Wings between them. She laughed. She could hear the chittering language they talked to each other with. But before she could smite them with righteous might, the magnificent black and white griffoness imposed her size before Celestia.

She came out of nowhere and her black talons stroked Celestia’s mane. Under Her stare, the Princess forgot to breathe. Her gray eyes had locked on Celestia’s and she smiled a conceited smile. It pulled at the corners of her obsidian beak. Time stopped. The Black Sun roared above, stealing life and color from the world. An unending thunder roared inside her head, louder, and louder. It became her existence as she lost herself on those gray eyes. She fell and fell, through the Black Sun, again and again as everything that existed was warped around her, becoming strings of magic. The Harpy smiled down at little Celestia, black talons stroking her mane. The softest satin for voice. Love like hate only She could dispense.

“Your fairy tale breaks apart again…”

Celestia’s scream tore through the deafening thunder.

An inferno of sweltering flames and wind roared around the lobby. The Harpy was gone, the Black Sun was gone. Creatures cried and fled around her, hiding behind furniture and pillars. Majestic, Celestia’s immaculate white body reared and jumped into the air, opening her wings, feathers aflame like a phoenix. And then she was gone, leaving the flame-licked room behind with distraught and confused ponies and griffons.

Comments

[new55]

That was a good chapter. I wonder if the treachery and paranoia will turn Celestia into another monster or if she can hold onto her morals.

[Metemponychosis]

11471891
As usual, it is a pleasure to know you liked it.

[Kairee]

This is what a trauma and fatigue induced total mental breakdown looks like... Someone is probably going to end up very scarred by the end of this.

[Metemponychosis]

11473952
Well, things are certainly going to change moving on.

[Jinnchin]

Welp... that's probably not a good thing!

Real props to how this conflict has been written so far. It's one thing to have a villain that follows the tired old Dragonball Z cliche of having a bigger "power level" than the protagonist. It's something else entirely to have a villain that can demonstrate an innate understanding of the protagonist's world view and goals, and then brutally subvert them in the most painful and destructive way possible. I guess what I'm saying is I can totally buy that The Harpy has managed to defeat Celestia many times before, and can do so again. Really ups the stakes of this story!

Thinking about this more logically, it makes sense The Harpy would go about breaking Celestia by driving a wedge between her friends and using divide and conquer tactics. No only because trust and friendship are tantamount to Celestia's beliefs, but we know for a fact that for all her power and guile the Harpy can and has been defeated when Celestia manages to unite the world against Her. But that sure as heck isn't going to happen if Celestia continues down her current path. Here's hoping someone or something can pull her out if this sorry state!

Also, genuinely wondering what's going on with Chrysalis, given she is the prime suspect for what happened to Celestia's airship fleet.

Chrysalis sweetie, you didn't seriously help the griffons escape did you? What, did they promise to help with with your praetorians? You know The Harpy almost certainly plans on exterminating you and your species if she gets the chance! Did you do a bad thing?
Chrysalis: