The Princess and the Kaiser

by UnknownError

Part Twenty-Five

Flurry Heart drifted above Ponyville in the dark. She could see the flashes from the flak guns placed on the roofs in downtown Weter, but the ghetto itself had no protection. Weter itself was in a mandatory blackout, along with every city on the coast. Dark shadows of bombers drifted in-between the clouds high above her, chased by smaller dots of fighter planes.

The tenement two buildings away from her old home had taken a direct hit and completely collapsed. Fires still smoldered in the rubble. By dawn, the entire ghetto would likely be charred husks.

Flurry looked up and down the street, her eyes glowing with her night vision spell. There was no sign of any firefighters, although her ears perked up at the distant air raid sirens and alarms coming from the Industrial District and the Harbor. The alicorn flapped her wings above the smoke and fires as her horn glowed a pale blue. The smart decision would be to leave it to burn and not draw attention, Flurry thought.

She sent a wave of frosted air and ice downwards with a strong flap of her wings as she released her spell. The sudden gale snuffed out the spreading flames, leaving frost to cling to the brick and wood. The flash of her horn faded quickly into the night. Flurry landed next to the crater by her building and entered through the open doors, ears perked for the telltale whistle of a falling bomb.

She hopped the stairs with extended wings and quickly entered her room. Her horn provided a dim, blue light as she retrieved a piece of paper, a discarded quill, and a bottle of ink from her saddlebags. She tossed the empty saddlebags on her bare mattress before sitting in front of her desk.

She raised a hoof to her head and aggressively rubbed at her curly mane. “This is stupid,” she whispered. I could have written this in the hotel room. I didn’t need to come here. Flurry dipped the quill in the ink and stared at it for a moment.

Flurry Heart had tried to write this letter in her hotel room, several times, but failed to even start it. Jadis had taken a sleeping Thorax away to her own room, and the alicorn had a few short hours of privacy before everyone left to enact the plan. Her plan, she corrected herself. Even if they don’t know all of it.

Flurry settled for a few restless hours of sleep before quietly wishing everyone luck as they left to their positions. Altiert had gone willingly with Eagleheart, and Falx-as-Sunglider nodded self-seriously and flew north with the other fake Republicans.

Flurry promised to join Dusty and the Weter-bound militias in the morning, deflecting any questions about her business tonight. She knew it would look bad to be absent during the start of the war, but Jacques had made a good argument. Her presence would be noticed in combat. Flurry didn’t like the idea of ponies dying for her while she wasn’t with them, but she couldn’t be everywhere. And if everything went well, she would save a lot of lives tonight.

Flurry checked the watch on her foreleg and grimaced; she had less than an hour before the attacks started. She picked up the quill in her magic, watching the ink drip off the end with pensive eyes. She sighed and shook her head, causing the orb of light above her to wobble and cast shadows throughout the room.

The light from the orb glinted off something underneath her dresser.

Flurry noticed it out of the corner of her eye, put the quill back, and stood up. Her dresser had been knocked away from the wall, probably from the impact of the bombs. The drawers were open and empty from when she left with the others. The wood had needed a coat of paint when she moved in, and the years of alicorn magic had continued to be unkind to the cheap carpentry. Flurry bit her lip as she shoved the dresser to the side with a hoof.

And looked down at her thin, golden crown.

Flurry Heart blinked at it, then looked over at the toppled dresser suspiciously. I looked for it for hours. I lifted the dresser. I lifted all the furniture a hundred times. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, and cast her changeling detection spell on it, remembering that skilled changelings could disguise themselves as inanimate objects.

The spell passed over the crown harmlessly. The band was covered in a fine layer of dust and grime, as if it had laid there on the floor since the night she turned away from it. Flurry took it in her front hooves and glared at it. I would have seen it. I would have found it. The alicorn blew the dust off with an exhale.

She turned the crown over in her hooves and found the groove where she had flung it against the wall and dented the metal. She brought her orb of light closer and found the scorch mark where she had forgotten to take it off before casting a firebolt. It wasn't a replica.

Flurry lifted the crown above her horn and set it down on her head. It was a tight fit and stuck to her fur. The crown had been made for an eleven-year-old filly, not a sixteen-year-old mare.

But it still fit, and she suddenly knew what to write.

Flurry Heart trotted over to her desk and picked up the quill in her magic. Her tail swished as she worked. When she was finished, she cast a spell on the letter and watched the words fade away before folding the letter and picking it up in her mouth. She left her room and felt the crown settle under her mane as she trotted to the cracked sidewalk outside, splintered by the crater. She stretched her wings to fly, looking towards the streaks of tracers from the anti-air guns firing downtown.

The crown would make the next part difficult, but she didn’t dare remove it, not after it found the way back to her. She glanced back at her bare flank, then gripped the letter tighter between her teeth and flew towards downtown. Her horn sparked as she disappeared from sight, but the alicorn maintained her current course towards the prison.

Nova Griffonia hadn’t taken many prisoners during the war, something that was partly Flurry’s fault. Her magical attacks didn’t tend to leave many survivors. Most of their prisoners were downed pilots who managed to bail from their planes, or sailors that escaped their sinking vessel. As far as she knew, the Reich hadn’t taken any prisoners at all, at least none worth bragging about.

I wonder if they’d try to take me prisoner again, Flurry thought. They probably wouldn’t; she had killed too many of their sailors and pilots. I shouldn’t have played along in Aquileia. I should’ve melted the ring off my horn and blasted my fake mother across the room.

Flurry Heart banked around the dome of the Capitol Building and the anti-air guns placed on the roof. Her ears pinned back at the constant stream of fire as they fired up at vague dots above. She continued past the High Hotel, now abandoned and turned into a barracks for Blackpeak’s militias, then the spire of Weter Radio before flaring her wings and diving towards a nondescript gray-bricked building laced with barbed wire.

Prison design for a species that could fly meant either high walls and wing restraints, or a completely boxed-in prison. The old labor camps in the frontier had tried the former and caused a rebellion. Weter had built the latter, a nondescript, high-roofed concrete box, which meant that most guards patrolled the tight hallways inside. Flurry drifted over a pair of guards watching the anti-air guns fire on a nearby roof and landed silently. Her invisibility and muffling spells covered everything except the letter between her teeth and the golden band on her head.

She approached a barred skylight and peered inside. The lights inside the prison were off, and the guards carried flashlights. She gripped the letter tighter in her teeth and walked along the roof, checking the skylights as she went. Hellcrest would be in a solitary cell, but she had no idea where those cells would be. She stopped in front of another skylight.

I should’ve asked Jacques, she grumbled. Flurry raised an invisible hoof to check her watch, then realized that she had left it in her room. I don’t have time for this. She exhaled between her teeth and punched through the reinforced glass at the skylight. She saw a light beam at the end of the hallway wobble and turn around at the sound.

Flurry Heart put her hooves against the bars on the window and pushed them aside, making an opening just wide enough for her to squeeze through. Nova Griffonia built prisons for griffons; maybe they could fly up to a skylight, but they couldn’t get through reinforced glass and steel bars. The alicorn dropped through into the hallway and flared her wings to stop midair as a guard approached her.

The griffon girl in a brown uniform swept her flashlight over the invisible Flurry Heart and completely missed the crown catching the light, instead seeing the bent bars in the skylight. She turned her head and opened her beak to yell.

Flurry clamped her beak shut with magic, then flew down and shoulder-checked the guard into the bars of a cell. The flashlight shattered. The griffon inside the cell squawked and fell off the bare mattress. Flurry clamped his beak shut as well and pushed him against the cell wall with another flare of her horn.

Flurry Heart dispelled her invisibility and stood on top the guard. She transferred the letter to a wing to speak.

“Where’s Admiral Hellcrest?” Flurry asked softly, leaning down to whisper above the guard’s head. “I’ll cave your head in if you yell,” she warned, and released the griffon’s beak for her to reply.

The guard inhaled deeply, probably to scream, and Flurry fired a sleep spell point-blank into the back of her head. The griffon immediately fell unconscious, and would probably remain so for more than a day. The alicorn turned her attention to the prisoner. “Same question,” she whispered and released the prisoner from her magical grip.

The prisoner glanced down at the guard’s head. Without the light, he couldn't tell if she was breathing. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “Solitary with the others?”

“Where?”

The griffon pointed a claw east. “Basement, down the hall.”

Flurry stepped off the guard and noticed her commotion caused the neighboring prisoners to wake up and peek through the bars. This cell block was apparently full. She glanced back to the prisoner and reared a hoof back.

He flinched.

Flurry punched through the lock on his cell door. “There’s an opening in the skylight.” She jerked her head up to the skylight then trotted down the hallway. Her horn lit up as she prepared to cast her spells again.

“Pony!” a voice hissed. Flurry turned towards it and spotted a white griffon leaning through the bars of his cell. “Break us out,” he hissed again. “We’ll fight for you!”

Flurry considered it for a moment. “Later,” she replied noncommittally.

“Fine!” the griffon squawked louder and inhaled to screech.

Flurry Heart fired a laser blast that slid between the bars and went through the griffon’s chest. His screech died on his beak as his lungs cooked from the inside. The griffon slumped against the bars, clearly dead. Flurry heard the other prisoners rapidly back away from their own doors and whisper prayers. Her ears twitched as she cast her invisibility and muffling spells again before moving on.

Flurry Heart passed through the other cell blocks and into the basement without incident, following the guards and going around the patrols at a brisk trot. Her hoof steps were muffled, and no guard was alert enough to spot the floating crown and letter in the poor lighting. Flurry came to the locked gate to solitary and wrenched it open. The guard next to the door had time to blink in surprise before her sleep spell struck him on the beak.

She entered the solitary wing and sneered at the conditions. The basement was cold, dark, and damp. There was visible rust on some of the doors. This place is a nightmare for an avian race. Flurry peaked through the narrow slots in the doors, still invisible. She had no desire to release some murderer or rapist.

The yellow griffon wearing a dirty blue naval uniform seemed almost too obvious. He looked like he was in his early fifties with a bald spot on his head. He was awake and slumped against the wall. Flurry almost reconsidered her plan, but she was too committed at this point.

“Admiral Hellcrest?” she asked through the slit.

The griffon slowly looked over at the door. “I have nothing more,” he answered in Herzlander. “I have told you all I know.”

I figured he was a coward. I can work with a coward.

“I’m here to break you out,” Flurry said in Herzlander. “Stay where you are.” She turned around and shook out her hind legs, becoming visible again.

The griffon squawked a laugh. “Really?”

Flurry bucked the door. It flew off its hinges and smashed against the opposite wall with a great crash of metal against stone. It only missed Hellcrest because he was sitting on the floor. He screeched in pure terror.

“Really,” Flurry snorted and stepped into the cell. She looked down imperiously at the griffon.

Hellcrest stared at her blankly.

Flurry stuck out her hoof. “Come with me if you want to get out of here.”

Hellcrest continued to stare. An eye twitched.

Alarms began to blare throughout the prison and Flurry’s ears spasmed at shouting and stomping on the floor above.

Flurry wiggled her hoof. “Now, please.”

“You’re naked,” Hellcrest answered numbly.

Flurry sighed and grabbed the griffon in her magic. He squeaked as she teleported, dragging him with her.

Flurry Heart and Hellcrest reappeared high above the prison. The alarms still sounded below them. Hellcrest immediately began to fall before desperately flapping his wings to stay aloft. When he leveled back off, Flurry jabbed the letter into his stomach with her magic. He took it in his claws.

“You know Grover?” she asked aggressively.

“The Kaiser?” he replied, still numb.

“That letter is for him,” Flurry continued. “Take it to him.”

He looked at the letter and his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” Flurry answered. “You know who I am.”

“You’re the mare that sank my ship and killed thousands of my griffons,” he answered with an attempted glare.

“Yeah,” Flurry nodded, then cast her changeling detection spell on Hellcrest.

Hellcrest felt the spell wash over him and his feathers ruffled. He almost dropped the letter. “What was that?” he demanded.

“I tied your life to that letter,” Flurry lied. “If it fails to reach Grover in seven days or if anyone else reads it, your heart will explode.”

“What?” he squawked in terror.

“Your heart will explode,” Flurry repeated. “Grover has to read the letter by the end of the month to break the curse. You’ve met Grover, yes? He knows who you are?”

“Yes!” Hellcrest screeched. “I’ve met him! I’m his best admiral! You can’t do this to me! He’ll bring the entire fleet down on you for this!”

Flurry shrugged her hooves. “You’ll need to make it to him first.”

Hellcrest looked to the east with wild eyes. “I-I can’t fly back on my own; I’ll never make it to Griffenheim!”

Flurry rolled her eyes and teleported them again.

They reappeared high above a featureless ocean and swayed in the wind currents. Hellcrest almost dropped the letter.

Flurry pointed a hoof east towards a distant coastline. “You’re over halfway across the ocean now. You can make it to land. Catch a train, a plane, a truck, whatever. Doesn’t matter, but only Grover can read the letter.”

Hellcrest gaped at her with an open beak.

Flurry Heart summoned a small crackling arc of lightning around her horn. Her eyes lit up with her night vision spell as she frowned.

Hellcrest squawked and clung to the letter like his life depended on it. He began to flap away unsteadily, but with vigor.

Flurry dropped the other spells. “Seven days!” she called out. “Pace yourself!”

She sighed as she teleported back towards Weter, reappearing over the harbor and skimming above the water. She spied a few sailors moving about on the piers and ships. The Admiral was apparently here in the harbor with her griffons. She would lead them herself shortly.

Flurry Heart expected Hellcrest to be healthier. There was a chance he would drop dead of a heart attack trying to make it to Grover. Even if he did make it, Hellcrest would probably spend the entire flight screaming about a letter that was meant to be somewhat confidential.

Then again, Flurry considered, he might think I’m trying to kill Grover with a letter. A brave griffon would open it, or refuse to deliver it. She smirked. A brave griffon would go down with their ship. He loves his life too much. He’ll make it, and he’ll keep his beak shut.

Flurry cast her invisibility spell again and flew towards the mansions and the leisure district. She easily slipped between the loose patrols and anti-air crews in her way. She remembered flying this path years ago with a bloody nose. She wiped a fetlock against her muzzle and the spell flickered.

Flurry Heart set her crown in the grass outside the gate to Blackpeak’s mansion. She eyed the guards on the street. Nothing made Nova Griffonia’s corruption more apparent than the fact that Blackpeak’s private residence had more guards than the prison. All of the griffons were dressed in brown uniforms and had a pistol and submachine gun. Their patrols moved in pairs, swiftly and efficiently, even in the late hours of the night.

They weren’t prepared for an invisible pony. Flurry hopped over the gate with a gentle flap of her wings, careful to not make any sudden turns or movements as she glided towards the house. Even if she was invisible and muffled, the alicorn still displaced air and could collide with something.

The lights looked like they were off inside, but Flurry realized that the wide windows had heavy curtains draped over them. More guards were on the balconies with binoculars, scanning over the sky and the ground. The alicorn noticed there were no anti-air batteries nearby. The nearest were quite a few mansions away.

Probably would make it a target.

Flurry Heart could teleport inside, but that risked appearing before some guards and causing a scene. This needed to be done quietly, and she couldn’t be seen. Flurry slowly circled the house, looking for a way to enter. Worst case, she could force her way through one of the doors on the ground floor, or an unguarded balcony.

Just as she picked a balcony to land on, one of the servant’s doors in the back of the house opened as a guard and a female griffon in a maid outfit snuck out towards Blackpeak’s opulent garden in the backyard. Flurry risked diving towards the door and catching it with a hoof. The couple were too distracted locking beaks to notice it didn't shut behind them. She peeked inside and thanked her luck. The door led into an empty kitchen.

Flurry crept through the hallways and past several portraits and marble busts of griffons. She resisted snorting upon realizing that most of them were Triton Blackpeak. Guard patrols marched around the central staircase. Flurry risked a running leap and flap of her wings to clear the stairs and reach the second-floor landing. One of the guards at the top of the staircase flapped his wings and frowned, but proceeded on his patrol after a moment of hesitation.

Flurry paused in an alcove to consider the layout. She knew where Blackpeak’s study was, but he probably was in his bedroom. Flurry decided to check the opposite side of the house first. She slunk past a few stationary guards in the hallway, holding her breath as she passed on light hooves.

A female griffon in a gilded silk nightdress abruptly opened one of the doors the alicorn was creeping towards and headed down the hallway at a brisk pace. Flurry backpedaled as quickly as she could to avoid crashing into her. The alicorn reflexively swallowed as she managed to twist to the side and shelter behind a cabinet and let the griffon pass.

The female griffon scowled at the guards and moved towards the study with agitated, twitching wings. Flurry followed her at a distance. The griffon muttered under her breath as she walked, and Flurry strained to hear what she was saying. The griffon approached the study and threw the doors open with a crash. The guards on either side of the doors made no move to stop her.

“Triton!” she screeched. “I can’t take anymore of this!” The griffon entered the study, leaving the doors open. Flurry followed her inside.

The study hadn’t changed in the intervening years. It was the same bookshelves lined with fake books, the same oak table, and the same bluish griffon in the same plush, high-backed chair. Flurry wasn’t certain, but Triton might have even been wearing the same nightshirt.

“Triton, did you hear me?” the griffon asked angrily and swatted some papers on the table. “These guards are insufferable!”

Blackpeak scrambled to grab the papers and glared angrily. “Yes, Maar damn it, I heard you!” he squawked. “You complain about them every other night.”

“I have to drink myself stupid to fall asleep while they’re pounding about,” the griffon complained. She must be his wife. Flurry had never met her before and didn’t recall her name.

Blackpeak muttered something and his wife leaned over the table with narrowed eyes and flared wings. “What was that?” she asked.

“Nothing, dear,” Blackpeak replied quickly. He cupped her beak with a claw and tapped her beak in a kiss. “It’s temporary, I promise.”

“Can’t you just arrest Kemerskai?” Mrs. Blackpeak asked, standing back up and moving away from the table. Flurry Heart stood in the corner, next to the door.

“There’s a war going on, dear. I can’t risk starting another one,” Blackpeak explained patiently. “We just need a little more time. Trust me.”

Mrs. Blackpeak sighed and folded her wings.

“I’ll tuck Elise in,” Triton promised with a raised claw.

“She’s been asleep for hours,” Mrs. Blackpeak scoffed. “Don’t you know what time it is?” She jabbed a talon at a clock on the bookshelves.

Flurry checked the time with Blackpeak. The attacks have started, Flurry realized. She was making good time, but she needed to act soon.

Blackpeak removed his reading glasses, lowered his head into his claws, and rubbed his eyes. “I’ll be in bed shortly. I need to review these reports.”

Mrs. Blackpeak clacked her beak with her head held high and strutted out of the study. Flurry stayed behind and watched her leave. Once she was far enough down the hall, the alicorn pushed the doors shut with an invisible hoof. The guards outside didn’t turn to look, thinking Blackpeak had shut the doors himself.

Blackpeak glanced up from his chair and frowned. He grabbed a glass of alcohol on his desk and took a sip.

Flurry Heart dropped her illusions. The air shimmered as she suddenly appeared before Blackpeak’s desk. The griffon flinched back and coughed, spitting into his drink. The doors glowed blue as Flurry sealed them shut and warded the room before he could recover.

Flurry Heart stared at Triton Blackpeak silently with blank blue eyes.

Triton Blackpeak blinked his golden eyes at her and cleared his throat. “Miss Flurry?” he asked in greeting.

She nodded.

“Private Flurry Heart!” Blackpeak said again, loudly. He set the drink down on the table. “How…surprising to see you at such a late hour. You should make an appointment,” he laughed and raised his left claw in mock reproach. His right claw drifted behind his desk. Flurry watched it impassively.

“I need to understand something,” Flurry said softly.

“You’ve come into my house at night to ask a question?” Blackpeak scoffed. As he scoffed, there was a click as a drawer opened in his desk. He kept his eyes on the alicorn with a brittle smile.

Flurry pretended not to notice and kept her ears from twitching. “You have a family,” Flurry noted.

“Yes,” Blackpeak narrowed his golden eyes. "What about them?"

“How?” Flurry asked. “How can a griffon as greedy and selfish as you have a family?”

“Did you come all this way to threaten my family?" he asked, confused and offended. "Don’t you have a plane to fly?”

“No,” Flurry shook her head. “I know you’re making a deal with Chrysalis.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Flurry Heart,” Blackpeak said with a raised voice. He looked over her shoulders at the door.

“Chrysalis’ cruelty makes sense,” Flurry continued. “She only loves herself. She doesn’t have a family, or anyone else she really cares about. It’s always been about her.” She blinked and flapped her wings in agitation. “You did nothing to help us for years, exploited us in your factories, then went home and tucked your cub into bed. Do you think you’re a good griffon?”

“I am the griffon that welcomed you here, despite the protests of the legislature,” Blackpeak responded.

“And you’re the griffon planning to sell us all out to the Changelings.”

“Did that wretched changeling of yours tell you that?” Blackpeak asked. “Have you considered that he might still be working for her? A civil war will allow the Queen to invade.”

“She doesn’t need to invade. You invited her.”

“What proof?” he asked with a screech. “Do you have any proof of this accusation?”

“By the time I get any proof, it will be tanks rolling across the border. Does your wife know? Does she even care about how you treated us?”

“You will not speak about my wife!” Blackpeak squawked desperately.

The room was quiet. Blackpeak opened his beak again to yell.

“They can’t hear you,” Flurry said absently.

Blackpeak clacked his beak shut and stared at the glowing doors.

“I warded the room,” Flurry explained. “They can’t hear anything in here.”

He met her eyes for the first time with genuine fear and anger. “Did you come here to scold me for something you’re not even sure I did? Or did you come here to threaten my family?”

Flurry shook her head. “I was just curious. That’s not why I came here.”

There was a muffled pounding on the doors. Flurry looked over her shoulder and away from Blackpeak. She heard him lunge forward. Triton took the bait and raised a pistol in his right claw from the desk drawer.

Without looking back at him, Flurry seized the griffon in her magic and forced him back into the plush chair. Her magic pinned him down and wrapped around his beak; she felt him try to struggle against her grip, but she was too strong for any griffon. Flurry Heart kept his beak shut as she dispelled her sound wards.

“Sir!” a guard shouted. “There’s attacks all over the frontier! The harbor’s overrun!”

“Triton!” Mrs. Blackpeak screamed. “Kemerskai’s on the radio! Open the door!”

“Unlock the door!” another guard shouted and the pounding increased. Flurry kept the lock warded. The wood buckled, but the magic held strong.

Flurry Heart clicked her tongue. Good timing. She turned back to Blackpeak with a grim smile. She had so much more she wanted to say to him, but it was better this way. She approached the desk and leaned in to stare at the pistol.

Blackpeak had it in his claw with a talon on the trigger. He couldn’t let it go; Flurry’s magic kept him holding it. She sensed that he had never fired it before. It sat in his desk for years, as a precaution. Flurry Heart checked to make sure the safety was off then looked him in the eyes. They were the only thing he could freely move. The pupils were dilated.

“Thank you,” Flurry whispered, “for making this easy. I’m glad your wife left the room.”

There was a thud as some griffon kicked the door. “What’s wrong with the lock?” a guard shouted.

“Triton! Open the door!”

Flurry Heart’s horn glowed as she bent Blackpeak’s arm inwards. He tried to drop the pistol. Then he tried to pull against her. There was a dry snap and his beak spasmed as his arm broke from the strain. Flurry tucked the pistol under his beak and took a few steps back.

Blackpeak kept taking short, nasally breaths, trying to open his beak to say something or scream in pain. His entire body quivered in the chair, glowing faintly blue from her magic. Flurry focused on his claw, particularly the talon on the trigger.

Flurry Heart made eye contact as she forced him to pull the trigger.

The bullet entered under his chin and exited from the top of his head. The chair’s high back was soaked red in an instant from the exit wound. Blackpeak’s eyes rolled up into his head; he died instantly. Flurry released her telekinesis and let the body flop to the table with the pistol still in his grip.

There were screams outside in the hallway. Flurry stepped into the corner next to the doors and dispelled the lock. As the doors finally flew open, she cast her invisibility spell. The griffons ran towards the desk and didn’t notice the flash in the corner of their eyes.

Mrs. Blackpeak gave a wordless screech of agony as she rushed the desk and grabbed her husband’s head. Uncaring of the blood, she tried to rouse him, shaking the body repeatedly with wordless sobbing.

“By Boreas!” one of the guards exclaimed. He looked around the room, passing over Flurry without reaction.

“He shot himself?” one of the other guards asked.

A guard with an armband, an older griffon, gaped at the body for a moment before shaking his head. “We’re finished. The entire frontier is coming to kill him.” He looked over a wing and pointed a claw at a griffon in the hallway. “Signal the others and let’s go! We’re getting out of here!”

“No!” Mrs. Blackpeak screeched. “You can’t!”

“He’s the one that paid us, and he’s the one they’re coming for,” the guard replied dismissively. “We’re not sticking around to fight for a corpse.”

“I can pay you!” she replied through her tears.

The guard shook his head. “Not worth it. We’re getting attacked everywhere. Kemerskai’s coming in from the north, the harbor’s on fire, there’s a prison break…” he trailed off.

“What about us?” she screamed in reply. "He paid you to protect us!"

“What about my family?” the guard retorted. “I’m going home.”

Mrs. Blackpeak flung herself at the guard with outstretched claws and a screech. Her silk nightdress fluttered as she grabbled with him. The other guards backed away, but the older griffon clubbed her with the butt of this submachinegun and shoved her back against the table. “Get off!” he spat and turned to leave.

The slam against the table knocked the pistol out of Blackpeak’s claw and onto the floor. His wife saw it with misty eyes and grabbed it from the pool of blood. She stood up on her hind legs with wings outstretched.

She raised the shaking pistol with both claws. “S-stop right there!” she screeched. “You’re going to stay and-”

There was a gunshot. Mrs. Blackpeak crumpled against the table and fell heavily to the floor. The pistol tumbled out of her claws. She gasped for breath as the silk turned red around her chest. Flurry was so startled she nearly dropped her illusion. She turned to her right and stared at a young orange guard with a smoking pistol.

The older guard whirled back around and saw the dying griffon. He clacked his beak and glared at the younger guard. “What in Maar’s name did you do?” he roared.

“She grabbed the gun,” the younger guard protested.

The older guard looked again and gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “Stupid,” he muttered. “We need to get out of here.”

“W-what about the cub?” one of the other guards asked.

“You wanna shoot her too?” the older guard replied shortly.

“No, I, uh, what do we do?”

“Leave her.”

The guards departed down the hallway, still arguing. Flurry heard crashes and breaking glass, then muffled shouting throughout the house. Flurry shook her head to focus and looked towards the fallen griffon.

Mrs. Blackpeak stared right at her, unblinking. She had bled out.

Flurry Heart left the room as the blood soaked into the rug. The hallway was already being ransacked by eager guards. One smashed a painting of Blackpeak against the floor and pulled the golden filigree off the picture frame. Flurry trotted by without notice.

One of the balcony windows at the end of the hallway had been broken. The invisible alicorn moved towards it, dodging fallen statues and shelves. She flapped her wings and took flight, carefully squeezing through the broken window and avoiding the shards of glass.

Through all the chaos, a small voice called out, “Hello?”

Flurry’s ears twisted to hear it behind her. Against her better judgement, she looked back. A small griffon cub in a cotton shirt stumbled down the hall, looking confused and terrified. One of the guards stepped around her and fled down the staircase with an armful of bottles. The cub stared up at the broken window, inadvertently making eye contact with Flurry Heart.

She has her father’s eyes.

Flurry Heart flapped her wings and twisted away, flying back to where she had left her crown. Her plan had worked. News of Blackpeak’s death would spread throughout the night, and his militias would melt away, back to their homes. Kemerskai would take Weter basically unopposed, if disappointed that his rival shot himself. He would name himself president at the Capitol Building, with all his important griffons there to witness his triumph.

Comments

[PearlyDoesStuff]

One kleptocrat down, a nepotist dictator to go...

[Kingfisher]

Story is getting interesting

[Kingfisher]

Story is getting interesting

[SirCarrot]

I wonder what was in that letter…

[Pogmin]

Congrats on (nearly) 100K words!

[TheOPcharacterWriter]

“No, I, uh, what do we do?”

Citing a classic meme from my country: The child should therefore be sold, on the free market, a newborn costs about 25 thousand dollars...

[tyzuikanwanderer]

Jesus fucking Concord.... poor cub.

[niBBoi]

Flurry... Flurry, you're breaking my heart here...

Please don't make me hate you as much as I might hate the royal sisters, if not even more, towards the end of all this. I feel there's some part of you that loves doing everything you just did, and I hope I'm wrong.

Vicious threats, murder, murder made to look like a suicide, and leaving a cub orphaned - all without hesitation. It's all for her plan of course. In her eyes, it's her duty as princess that is above all, and all she had to do was sacrifice a piece of her soul for it...

Again, I shouldn't be surprised, but I guess it goes without saying that I'm starting to regret asking how far Flurry will go. Also, I hope Chrysalis fucking burns by the end for causing all this. This isn't the life anyone wanted for anybody.

[Sylica telca]

Flurry why!? What about the cub!?