Part Fifteen
Flurry Heart stood at the end of the dock in a crowd of griffons and watched the limping boat pull into the harbor at Weter. Her brown flight suit chafed around her wings, but she remained focused on the struggling vessel. It was overloaded and listing heavily to the port side. It was an oversized pleasure yacht, clearly not meant for ocean travel across the strait. Some griffons must have stolen it.
Griffons packed the deck and a few had already taken flight to try to fly onto land. The fliers were being intercepted by Kemerskai’s militia and forced back towards the boat. A shot rang out above her as a griffon in brown fatigues discharged a shotgun into the air. A griffon carrying a young cub flapped awkwardly back to the boat, screeching insults in Herzlander. Her dress was blue. A few of the griffons on deck were clothed, but most were naked. Flurry supposed they literally sold the clothes off their back to afford passage.
Flurry looked at the other boats lining the docks, now abandoned after the journey across the ocean to Nova Griffonia. They lined every pier and dock in the harbor; no one had time to tow them out of the way, and no griffon claimed ownership of any of the repurposed fishing boats, personal pleasure boats, and in one case, a small freighter. The crews deserted with the passengers, desperately claiming asylum and refugee status.
“It’s like the Great War all over again,” one griffon in the crowd muttered.
“At least the ponies came over land,” a sailor squawked back. “These idiots barely know how to sail.” He gestured to the incoming boat with a claw.
Flurry saw the boat lean even more to the port side as griffons crowded the deck and tried get room to fly. A shoving match broke out on the deck. The alicorn could hear the screaming, but was the boat too far away to make out the words. The captain, if there even was one, was aiming at the dock she was on.
“Clear the damn dock!” a voice screamed in Aquileian. “Move, Maar damn you!”
Flurry twisted her head back to look. A few griffons in blue were heading up the dock, armed with batons and crowbars. They swept them at the onlookers and shouted insults. The dockworkers and sailors began to take low flight and move to another dock to keep watching. Flurry remained standing. Her horn stuck out above most griffons’ heads.
“Little Flurry!” Jacques called out. “Why are you on our dock?” the griffon approached with seven armed followers, but his eyes were friendly. He had changed his mail uniform for a blue militia coat that clashed with his light-yellow body and brown feathers. The griffons behind him relaxed and shouldered their blunt weapons.
“Flight practice was cancelled,” Flurry shrugged. “Swiftwing wants the experienced fliers in the air patrolling, just in case the Reich tries to make a bombing run to sink their ships.”
“I’m sure your ponies would be more comfortable if you were down at their docks,” Jacques noted.
“We’re already full,” Flurry replied. She pointed a wing down the harbor. “There’re only a few docks left with space.”
“I don’t suppose you could teleport the ships away,” the griffon suggested.
“I could,” Flurry laughed, “but I don’t think that will be appreciated. There’s good salvage on most of them. I don’t want to start a fight.”
“You don’t have to start anything,” Jacques rolled his eyes. “The Republicans are already attacking and looting some of the refugees.” He spat on the dock. “They believed they could liberate the Herzland from the Reich, but this is how they treat its griffons?” He shook his head. “These griffons would’ve welcomed them, had they won.”
Flurry remained silent and stared at the listing yacht.
Two weeks ago, Grover VI was crowned as an adult on his sixteenth birthday. The radio had broadcast an announcement from Griffenheim, in the heart of the Reich. Flurry heard his voice for the first time in years.
“My Griffons,” Grover had said over the radio; Thorax translated for Flurry. “Long have we suffered and fought to reclaim most of our land and sky. The wars were costly, but necessary to ensure peace on Griffonia.” His voice was still a bit squeaky. “But it is clear to me that the Reich cannot survive as it was; it must adapt to this changing world. I am your Kaiser by the will of our ancestors and grace of the Trinity, and I promise you that today is a new dawn over our nation.”
The next day, Archon Eros was reported dead of a stroke at the age of 102. Flurry remembered Bronzetail’s comment that he would die in the service of the Kaiser. Conspiracies suggested that he had been dead for some time, but Flurry believed the old griffon had summoned all his willpower to hold on until Grover was crowned. Protests erupted around his funeral in Griffenheim, led by Herzlander students. More protests began in Cloudberry to the north, then Aquileia, then Wingbardy.
Some of the griffons were allowed on the radio. “My father was drafted and died in his dumb wars!” a chick shouted across the airwaves. “We’ve spent our lives in school and university struggling to keep our grades high enough to avoid being drafted, and sometimes even that wasn’t enough. My brother was top of his class and dragged away to the Evi Valley. He returned a drunk, drinking away the pain from what happened there. The Archon said Boreas would forgive us, but there’s nothing righteous about war!”
From what Flurry could tell, there didn’t seem to be any clear demands, just a pained cry for change. Grover had begun a daily radio broadcast, something none of his ancestors ever attempted, to calm the protests. Flurry couldn’t keep up with all the reports. The Kaiser reversed many of Archon Eros’ proclamations as regent, legalizing all recognized languages and a few dozen religions across the Reich. There were some limits placed on conscription and an end to compulsory work in factories. The other Archons had their power limited.
The protests continued to escalate. A few hundred students broke into the Archon’s tomb in the Temple of Boreas in Griffenheim and defaced it. The radio claimed several guards were killed. “We demand that the Kaiser be held accountable to us, his subjects!” another student shouted. “We demand representation. The nobility doesn’t represent the common griffon, and neither does Grover!”
Grover allowed local elections, similar to the peasant marches from the early eras of the Reich. It still wasn’t enough. He invited several representatives to the palace in Griffenheim to discuss further concessions over the radio, openly promising that he wanted to hear the will of the common griffon. A dozen griffons flew to Griffenheim under the assumption that they would be shot, but the Kaiser welcomed them personally and allowed cameras. Flurry saw the photographs in the paper.
Grover had filled out; he wasn’t the awkward, scrawny griffon that she met in Aquileia. He was still lean, but wore an imperial sash and broad-shouldered ceremonial uniform. He had a heavy-set beak that was a spitting image of the statue of Grover I. He smiled broadly and even open-winged hugged some of the arrivals in front of the camera. The heavy crown actually fit on his head.
For days, the protests in the square outside the palace nearly devolved into rioting as the Reichsarmee stayed back at the Kaiser’s orders. Rector Mikusian of Yale University, one of the representatives, finally emerged and announced that no compromise had been reached. He urged griffons to remain calm as things were discussed in private with the Kaiser. A flock of students burned the yellow and orange Reich flag outside the palace. Grover did not go on the radio that evening.
The next morning, a battalion of heavy tanks arrived at the square outside the palace and rolled through the protestors.
The broadcasts from Griffenheim ceased. A few of the radio stations in the northern Reich were abruptly cut-off after reporting similar crackdowns by the army and secret police. There were rumors the palace had been stormed again and Grover had been killed.
Flurry focused on her training and ignored Thorax’s attempts at discussion. It was pointless to debate rumors. Nova Griffonia was on high alert. Kemerskai bullied his way onto Nova by Night to encourage an offensive while the Reich was weak. He had to leave Weter and fly north to the firmly held Republican cities to avoid an arrest warrant for a supposed assault.
The radio came back after three days; Flurry missed it. When she returned home from training, she demanded Thorax play a recording and translate. “My Griffons,” Grover’s voice said, “I come to you humbled by the experiences of the past several days. I spoke of change, and I knew change could be violent.”
Grover sighed over the radio. “So, I allowed my cities to be looted and monuments to be defaced in the name of change. I allowed rioters and terrorists to take to the streets and attack good, honest citizens. These were not protests, but the beginnings of another Republican revolution, a revolution that tore us apart and killed millions of griffons. I can only offer my apology that I allowed the madness to go on for so long. It ends now.”
Flurry had been quiet for a moment and processed the speech. “He’s still in charge?”
“It appears so,” Thorax had sighed. “I don’t have many contacts in the Reich, but they say the secret police have cracked down on the protestors everywhere.”
“Rioters,” Flurry corrected.
Thorax didn’t argue with her.
Flurry clung to her crown as she fell asleep that night.
It had to be done.
The first ship loaded with terrified refugees arrived the next day. They were fleeing the mass arrests and reopening of the reeducation camps. Grover had shut them down and released most of the political prisoners only two weeks before, but reopened them abruptly after his tanks rolled across the continent.
Flurry traveled to the docks to see the ship. It was a loaded-down fishing trawler crowded with griffons. These weren’t hardened Republicans; they were families and young students, selling everything they had for passage by smugglers to escape. A few army veterans joined them out of fear that their connections to the communist underground would be discovered.
More refugees arrived on stolen ships all along the coast, overwhelming Nova Griffonia’s immigration department within hours. A few rammed their ships ashore on a deserted coastline, or abandoned them against the shoals and flew the remaining distance. The refugees brought stories of night raids by black-clad special forces and torture for the names of associates. They reported that some griffons tried to fly by themselves and fell into the ocean, exhausted or overwhelmed by storms.
Most of the refugees were Herzlanders from the core of the Reich. Nova Griffonians hated them and viewed them as spoiled elitists finally reduced to their level. The Republicans didn’t want them; Kemerskai mocked them as ‘monarchists rightfully rewarded for their loyalty.’ The Aquileians largely didn't care.
Flurry's ponies were relieved. There was finally a class of griffon that rated lower than them.
Flurry came home one night and waited for Thorax. He arrived after nightfall and looked surprised to see her at his kitchen table with coffee, but he accepted the mug of cold coffee and downed it in one gulp. Flurry was still in her uniform, and so was Thorax. He was busy working double shifts decoding supposed secret messages.
“What’s going to happen to the Herzlanders?” she asked.
“You’re asking for the official stance from Blackpeak?”
“No, what will actually happen.”
“Ghettos, camps, homeless griffons, abuse and violence,” Thorax listed. “Everything we’ve had to deal with, but far worse.” He shifted on the stool and buzzed his wings.
Flurry stared down at her empty mug. “Spike’s still at the frontier, right? How are those new settlements going?”
Ponies had spread out through the frontier, using old trails and forgotten valleys to hide the refugees from the uprising. Over the years, new settlements, not on any map, had formed around a mixed group of frontier griffons and pony veterans.
“Okay,” Thorax admitted, “but Dusty knows more.”
“I’ve already asked her about them. They have room to grow and some empty space.”
Thorax was quiet.
“A lot of the griffons are students,” Flurry continued. “They could help with engineering, education, construction. We could use them.”
Thorax levitated the coffee pot over for a refill. He ignored that it was cold. “They might not want your help, Flurry. They know you’re close to Grover.”
“They know the official versions,” Flurry said. “They know I’ve argued with him.”
“That might not be enough.”
“Where else will they go?” Flurry asked. “Who will accept them?”
“You’ll need my help to smuggle them through immigration to the frontier,” Thorax sighed.
“How many are actually going through the process?” Flurry laughed. “They’re flying directly onto the coast. Will you help?”
“Of course,” Thorax stated, surprised. “Ponies might not be welcoming, however. Rations are stretched thin.”
“Tell anypony that asks that Princess Flurry Heart hopes that we can sympathize with fellow refugees,” Flurry said, “and I believe that our frontier gardens are literally bearing fruit.”
Thorax chuckled and swallowed another gulp of coffee. Flurry laughed with him.
“Kemerskai will come after us,” Thorax warned, but looked at her with a genuine smile.
“He already thinks we’re monarchist scum,” Flurry shrugged. “I’ll go to the dockyards to help out.”
“If he gets elected, he’ll use us as a scapegoat,” Thorax continued. "He's already planning on it."
“If it gets that far,” Flurry corrected.
“You don’t think the elections will happen?” Thorax asked, then his eyes widened in realization. “You’re counting on Grover to invade. To keep that promise to you.”
“Yes.”
Thorax’s wings buzzed as he thought. “When he does, do you think he’ll like you sheltering his enemies?”
Flurry bit her lip and looked away. “Not if we give some of them over.”
Thorax’s wings froze and he leaned back with wide eyes.
“Just important ones,” Flurry amended. “If we even have any. It might not matter; he let the ships go. He might not care.”
Thorax swallowed and exposed his fangs. “You want to open your wings to desperate refugees, then turn on them when it's convenient?” he hissed. “That’s your plan?”
Flurry shielded the table and the two of them. The shield turned opaque. “What did you think my plan was?” she hissed back.
“That you wanted to help!” Thorax flailed his hooves. He knocked the mug off the table.
“I do!” Flurry shouted. “We could use their help anyway. I just want to help my ponies!”
“And you’ll betray thousands of griffons to do it?”
“You wouldn’t?” Flurry challenged.
“This isn’t about me,” Thorax countered. “This is monstrous.”
“It might not even be an issue,” Flurry shrugged.
“And if it becomes an issue, you want to tell ponies to turn on their neighbors? You want to betray the Aquileians as well?”
“They hate the Herzlanders almost as much as the Republicans,” Flurry dismissed. “I can ask for some leniency.” She paused. “If we do a good job fighting against Nova Griffonia.”
Thorax blinked. “You’ve been planning this.”
“Yes,” Flurry admitted, “when Grover attacks, we’ll attack from the frontier. We pin the militias on the coast and clear the landings for the Reich. Nova Griffonia will fall in days, then we can move against Chrysalis together.”
“You’re asking ponies to kill their friends for you and Grover.”
“What friends? You mean Nova Griffonians? Or Republicans? The ones who spit on us, underpay us, laugh at us and make us live in ghettos? They aren’t our friends,” Flurry laughed spitefully.
“No,” Thorax said. He folded his hooves. “I’m not helping you. Not for this.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Flurry rolled her eyes. “The changeling finds his kindness after torturing how many griffons for stealing from his smuggling empire?”
“This isn’t about me,” Thorax insisted, voice slightly weaker.
“How many, uncle?” Flurry asked, leaning forward.
Thorax choked off a snarl and folded his wings. He looked away, but Flurry kept staring.
“Tell me how many,” she ordered.
The changeling was quiet. Flurry snorted.
“You’d make a good changeling,” Thorax muttered. Flurry knew it was an insult.
“We’re going to be fighting changelings, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “If he doesn’t attack by the election, we’ll figure something else out, but I bet he will.” Flurry dispelled the shield and stood.
“What if he breaks his promise to you?”
“He won’t,” Flurry said.
“What if he does?”
“He won’t,” she repeated forcefully. She opened the door and crossed to her room. “We need help to retake our home,” she called over her shoulder. “We don’t get to choose who it’s from.”
Several days after her talk with Thorax, Flurry found herself at the dockyard again and watching the listing yacht. Jacques stood beside her and clacked his beak at the sight. The griffons on the deck of the yacht had broken out into a brawl over something. The yacht hadn’t slowed down and was heading straight for the dock.
“It is going to flip over or crash into us,” Jacques observed.
Flurry continued to wait. The yacht suddenly tried to turn away, realizing it was on a collision course. The sharp movement caused the griffons on board to shift as one.
The yacht began to capsize. The griffons on deck started to scream and tumble towards the port railing. A few dozen took flight. One was pulled down by a paw as another griffon tried to grab onto them. The crowd was packed too tight for most to take off. There was a great shout of surprise from the watching griffons all over the harbor.
Flurry stomped her front hooves and ignited her horn. The yacht glowed blue and was lifted back into a stable position. The alicorn tilted her head and lifted the yacht out of the harbor to arrest its momentum. The propeller spun uselessly a few hooves above the water. The screaming onboard didn’t stop, but it took on a higher and more confused pitch. Flurry rolled her eyes and looked for a place to dump the boat. There was an empty spot on the right side of her dock.
“Cut the engine,” she shouted in Equestrian. Jacques flinched back from her volume.
“I doubt they know Equestrian,” Jacques chuckled.
“Stop the engine,” Flurry tried in Aquileian. The propeller still spun.
“Good effort,” Jacques muttered, "but I could have shouted that."
“Turn off the engine, please,” Flurry requested in Prench, mostly to annoy Jacques.
He clacked his beak at her pronunciation. “You are terrible, Little Flurry.” He looked up at the yacht. “Mostly Herzlanders,” he guessed. “How is your Herzlander?”
“I don’t know ‘engine,’” Flurry grumbled.
“One of the Republicans could translate,” Jacques suggested. “Here some come now, probably for a friendly discussion,” he said sarcastically and waved a wing back behind them.
Flurry glanced over her shoulder at a squad of four angry, armed militia griffons flying just above the dock, right towards her and the yacht.
“Do you mind?” Flurry asked Jacques. “I could stop them, but I’m focused on the boat. It’ll get messy.”
Jacques laughed and flared his wings. He whistled to the other Aquileians on the dock. “Let’s stop our nice Republican friends from harassing Little Flurry,” he shouted in Aquileian and took flight. The other griffons clutched their crowbars and flew up to swarm the militia griffons.
The Republicans sensed they were outnumbered and three flapped backwards, but one unslung his shotgun and aimed at the first approaching griffon. Flurry risked a small laser. The shot slashed between two of the Aquileians to melt the barrel. The griffon screeched in pain and clutched his right claw as the useless slag tumbled to the dock. He was clubbed over the head with a crowbar by one of the Aquileians a moment later. He dropped to the dock and was quickly surrounded and beaten.
Flurry turned back to the boat. The propeller was still spinning, but most of the griffons on the deck had already flown off and tried to land somewhere. No griffon tried to land near her or her dock.
I wonder if it’s me, or the griffon being beaten into paste behind me, Flurry laughed to herself.
Flurry wrenched the propeller off the boat and let it drop into the water. She set the yacht in the empty space, where it bobbed gently against the dock. Flurry snorted and wiped her nose. Her hoof came back clean and she smiled. Now that the boat was stable, a few griffons climbed out onto the deck. They gaped at the alicorn with wide eyes and open beaks, but quickly shrugged the shock off and flew away.
Flurry Heart flapped her wings and took flight, turning to go home for the day. Jacques and the Aquileians could handle themselves, but her presence was just going to encourage more violence with the Republicans.
“Thank! Many thank!” a griffon chick shouted out from the deck of the yacht, descending from the cockpit. Flurry looked down and landed on the mostly clear deck. She cast her detection spell as a precaution. A few of the griffons were spooked by the spell and retreated below deck again.
The griffon that shouted at her shivered, but remained on deck. She was wearing an oversized blue coat and a sailing cap about three sizes too large for her head. She had dark red wings and a light red beak. She blinked her golden eyes several times as Flurry approached. She had to be younger than the alicorn.
“Many thank, Princess!” she greeted and swept her wings in a bow. She abruptly straightened and circled her claws, making a show of twisting and turning an imaginary wheel. “Many hard,” she chuckled uneasily.
“Very hard,” Flurry corrected in Equestrian. “What is name?” she asked in broken Herzlander.
The griffon gasped and raised her claws to her beak. “Know Herzlander?” she asked in Equestrian.
Flurry nodded.
“Many good! Many good!” the griffon clapped. “Katherine Katerin,” the griffon stated and pounded a claw to her breast.
“Noble?” Flurry asked.
The griffon blushed and waved her claws. “No, no, Katherine live Katerin. Read book. Speak pony.”
Katerin was a landlocked province in Herzland. Flurry looked around at the yacht. “Why were you steering the boat?” she asked.
Katherine blinked and cocked her head.
“Why you?” Flurry asked in Herzlander. She sat on her flank and waved her hooves in an approximation of turning a wheel. The griffon gasped again in realization.
She lifted the oversized jacket’s sleeve up and stuck a talon through a hole in it. “Bang!” she shouted. “Kaiser die. Say I Kaiser. Can Read.”
“Kaiser?” Flurry asked.
Katherine tapped her captain’s hat.
“Captain,” Flurry offered in Equestrian.
“Cap-Tan,” Katherine tried. “Yes, yes, many good!”
“Why did she make you captain?” Flurry asked.
Katherine began speaking rapidly in Herzlander, then started towards the cockpit of the yacht. Flurry followed the energetic griffon, wary. The griffon flapped her wings instead of taking the stairs. Flurry followed up on hoof and looked around. There were a lot of stairs and a low ceiling on the cockpit for a griffon ship.
The griffon waved her wings towards the wheel and controls. The markings were in Equestrian, not Herzlander. Flurry looked over the wheel and saw a New Mareland registration, along with a registration for the River Federation. There was a picture of an earth pony couple next to the compass.
“Pony boat,” she realized and said in Herzlander.
“Yes!” Katherine said. “Pony boat. Griffon boat say many bits. Pony boat say no bits. Easy.” Katherine looked sad. “Griffon mad pony Cap-Tan say no bits.”
She smashed her claws together. “Pony win. Griffon die. Pony die. Boat Kaiser.” She tapped her hat again. Flurry was no expert on clothing, but her jacket was too short around her legs and back. Her wings fit awkwardly. They were clothes cut for a pony.
The captain was a pony. A smuggler, she guessed. They argued over what to charge and it got violent.
Katherine stared at the compass and stuck a talon out, tapping on it. “Can read, can numbers, Cap-Tan,” she smiled.
“Where pony?” Flurry asked.
“Dead,” Katherine responded, then made a splash sound.
Sailing across the ocean with one half-literate griffon on board is mad, Flurry thought. There must have been someone else on board to help.
While Flurry and Katherine were in the cockpit, more griffons emerged onto the deck and started to fly away. These griffons were naked and disheveled. Flurry looked back and saw a family of six griffons crawl out of the hatch and stand up.
“Wait!” Flurry called down. She left the cockpit and rushed down the stairs.
The griffons looked up together and the two adults rapidly ushered their chicks and cubs airborne, gesturing towards the docks. One of the young cubs needed to be carried.
“I won’t hurt you!” Flurry shouted.
The male griffon squawked back in Herzlander and reared up with his claws bared. Flurry stopped short, more surprised than actually threatened by the display.
“No hurt,” Flurry promised in Herzlander. She folded her wings and waved a hoof.
The griffon looked conflicted for a moment, but turned and jumped off the side of the boat, flying after his family. Flurry passed by the open hatch and glanced into the hold.
It was packed with griffons. They stared up at her, clearly terrified, and tried to move away. They stepped over each other.
Flurry backpedaled rapidly and bumped into Katherine, knocking her over.
“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Katherine squawked. She dropped into a submissive bow and bent her wings. Her hat fell off.
“No, it’s fine, get up,” Flurry urged as her wings twitched.
“Forgive me, my lord,” Katherine replied in Herzlander and backed away with her beak down.
Flurry blinked. She was a servant, a peasant. What threat was she? Why is she here? She looked over her withers towards the hatch and her tail lashed. “Katherine,” Flurry stated firmly. The griffon stopped backing away and shook slightly. “Why you here?” Flurry asked in Herzlander.
Katherine kept shaking and repeating “Forgive me, my lord.”
“You’re not a student or a professor,” Flurry said. “Why you here?” she repeated in Herzlander again and swept a wing over the dockyards.
Katherine reached out with a claw and scratched two parallel lines across the wooden deck.
“Equalist,” Flurry guessed, “or Communist? Do you even know what that is?”
Katherine began to weep on the deck and mutter apologies. She clasped her claws together in a plea.
Flurry's stomach lurched and she shook her head. “No, no,” she waved her wings. “No hurt, no hurt. Help.” Flurry levitated the captain’s hat up and placed it on Katherine’s head.
“Help,” Flurry repeated.
Katherine looked up at the alicorn with tears in her eyes. “Help?” she asked in Equestrian.
Flurry nodded decisively.
Katherine sniffled and leapt towards her.
Flurry nearly seized her in her magic and crushed her head, but the lean griffon moved too quickly.
The smaller griffon embraced the alicorn in a hug and sobbed into her shoulder. A few of the griffons risked looking out the open hatch on deck to see Flurry's response.
She didn’t hug her back. She stood stiffly with raised wings and let the griffon cling to her.
Flurry Heart swallowed down bile in her throat.
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And thus marks the start of Flurrys decent into supremacy. I think that it'll be a lot harder to sacrifice the griffons when you know some of them, right? I'm honestly suprised that Grover when supremacy, though I guess he did try to go non-aligned at first. After ELF 2.0 (or CLF i guess) happens Equus will definitly not return to harmony, thats for sure!
What? at the ending what happened?
11301840
p sure that was Flurry realising that she was prepared/ is still going to sell out the griffons and then formed an emotional connection to some of them
11301783
I kinda don't like that Flurry is turning out this way, I could understand her caring a bit less about Griffons than ponies, but having to swallow her bile because a griffon hugged her? That's just sad
More and more it's harder to call Flurry and Grover the good guys. Both of them seem to be going 'supremacist', if we're using game terms.
I wonder if there is a possibility of war breaking out between the Griffonian Empire and the River Federation. I would guess that Grover taking a hardline authoritarian stance would only heighten tensions with the Federation, which sees itself as the last bastion of democracy and hamony.
11301858
the bile was "Oh shit, I was going to send this griffon back to the reich to die" not "get this fllthy griffon away from me"
at least I think so
11301858
Flurry reacted to the hold stuffed with griffons and Katherine begging for her life, as well as her knee-jerk violent spell. She's disgusted with herself.
And both of them have gone Gamer Mode...
Grover used Tiananmen Square! It's very [REDACTED!]
Flurry used Racism! (Nothing happened in Weter!)
Because...In order to secure the highest value in your hierarchy (good life of ponies) Grover has to stand on a firm ground to help you. Other values you have, justice, family, knowledge, and so on do not matter or are subjected by boundaries determined by the highest value. I don't think Flurry would do this to her ponies, I don't even think she ideologically would oppose some reforms as long as its done through her and her role as the...
( Used since chapter one ) (River Federation ponies too? They can get upset if they hear her say something like this)
...Wouldn't be threatened. I mean, it'd be pretty insolent of the ponies to raise their hooves on their princess, who saved them and always cared for them, right?
Yes! Not only might this be used as an excuse to shelter them, but also try and ask Grover to forgive some of the griffons who'd help her, this way not only will she get some juicy bonuses to building factories, but research speed as well. On top of that, she can experiment how much her words actually mean to Grover (the more Equestria get liberated, the more they will, naturally)
Idk what to think of this. Every text has "autonomy" and may convey messages the author had no intention of showing.
I also think this chapter reinforces my previous comments 11290782 11295329 11297798
11301901
Well thank Celestia that's the case, it's a great story btw.
11302003
Eh, I could have made the ending a bit clearer for this chapter, but I'm fine with the ambiguity for now.
I intended her to be emotionally overwhelmed, similar to the young, scarred colt in the soup kitchen.
If some readers are reading that Flurry is uncomfortable with a griffon's hug, the next chapter clears it up.
As far as the Reich goes, readers will get to see Grover's thought process and viewpoint beyond the radio.
Eh, things could be worse. Yale could have gone Supremacist... Dealing with that would make this a LOT more complicated.
On one hand, Flurry made the mistake of learning the name of one of the Griffons she was potentially planning to hand over.
On the other, said Griffon was an Equalist, or some less radical form of ‘communist’ and has all but admitted to commandeering a boat from a pony smuggler in a violent fashion.
I have full faith that this batch of refugees will manage to pull something dangerous enough for Flurry to rationalise her slow slip into Authoritarianism like her counterpart across the sea. It’s nice to see that despite all her talk Flurry still hesitates and second-guesses her more drastic options - I feel like it’ll make an eventual slip in Supremacism more satisfying and strongly held, or highlight the goodness should she choose to hold onto Harmonist philosophy despite everything.
Wonderful chapter!
everything good bro?
Diellza von Katerinburg? I'd know that ex-monarch, I did dev Katerin, so this is oddly suspiciously similar of her profile.
11321878
Hey, thanks for reading!
Wish I thought of that, but I imagine that every griffon would've jumped ship if it was crazy Diellza at the helm, steering them to Nova Griffonia.
The hell is grover doing???? He's not doing anything different compared to his ancestors