Part Eighty-Three
Two flags hung outside the gate to Lower Canterlot. One was svelte, vibrant, and made of the finest cloth. It depicted a shadowed griffon rearing into a roar against a yellow and orange background. The edges of the banner were black and golden tassels swayed in the wind. The black personal banner of the Kaiser of the Griffonian Reich hung proudly on the wall.
To the left, on the other side of the gate, a discolored purple banner hung limply. It was a deep purple, but not everywhere; there was clear sections cut and spun from different pieces of cloth. The Imperial Snowflake of the Crystal Empire radiated out from the center, white branches extending to the edges. Like the purple background, some areas were discolored from multiple pieces of cloth; the snowflake was partially pearl rather than truly white.
Flurry snorted, then leaned her armored hooves atop the Gunnhildur’s turret. The tank hummed underneath her. She craned her neck to see to the front of the line, feeling the stiffness of the gorget on her neck and chipped helmet. Several orange and gray half-tracks waited at the very front with a mass of griffons on the ground. She was too far back to get a good look, but they were not knights.
Flurry turned down to Sir Geralt. He was sharpening a sword and leaning against the armor skirt along the treads. “Are we waiting for something?” the alicorn asked.
“Mhm,” Sir Geralt confirmed.
Flurry looked up and squinted. “Kaiser Grover’s ahead of me, right?”
“Mhm,” the knight agreed.
A low-flying griffon flapped over the line of waiting vehicles. She was wearing a gray, gilded dress uniform and carrying a trumpet. The griffon flapped unevenly for a wingbeat when she saw the sharp pink horn track her under a scarred purple helmet.
“I’ve always wondered,” Flurry said down to Sir Geralt, “how do you blow a trumpet with a beak?”
“Mhm,” Sir Geralt waved a white wing. “How do you hold a gun with hooves?”
Flurry glanced down at her massive armored hooves. “Well, not wearing this is a start,” she shrugged. “And practice.”
“Just so,” Sir Geralt agreed lightly. After a moment, his sharp yellow eyes flicked up to her. “It’s usually the dogs or ponies,” he clarified. “You’ll know if you hear a griffon trying to play the trumpet.”
A strangled note sounded from the front of the line of vehicles. Sir Geralt pointed his sword at it lazily before sheathing it under a wing. He scuffed a claw on his black armor. “Mhm,” he shrugged.
Flurry rested her hooves on the turret. She was still tired, and her horn ached at the base, even after six days. Most of her feathers had been clipped to regrow properly. She wouldn’t be able to fly at all, if not for her sheer wingspan making up the difference.
She had let her wings sprawl across the back of the tank in the meantime, as best she could with the armored wing joints. The crystals threaded through the stunted feathers drank in the sunlight and appeared to swirl with fire. The rest of her armor, cleaned from ash, similarly burned around the chips and pockmarks.
Several griffons walked up the line of vehicles on the road, stepping over the holes and gouges from the artillery bombardment. They carried stands and cameras with packs of film reels. One male kicked up a shell casing from the broken asphalt as he stumbled. He fumbled the heavy camera with a claw and nearly dropped it before diving to all fours and catching the lens just before it hit the ground.
“Imbecile!” one of the other griffons screeched in Aquileian. “That is worth more than you!”
“I-I’m sorry!” the other griffon apologized and hastily recovered.
“If you drop that,” the first said lowly, “I will flay the feathers-”
Flurry clanged her hoof on the top of the turret. She stared down at the film crew arguing several hooves away through the eye slits of her helmet. Both griffons immediately stopped, fluffed their feathers, then rushed ahead to the front of the line without looking back.
“Mhm,” Sir Geralt assessed with a roll of his eyes.
Flurry sighed and leapt off the top of the tank. She landed with a thud hard enough to crack the asphalt road around her hooves. The alicorn rolled her stiff wings and the crystals sang in the air, then she trotted languidly towards the city gates.
She met Limestone Pie and a half-dozen of her soldiers halfway to the front. The earth pony was glowering at every griffon she passed with twitching lips. A white bandage was swathed around her throat like a scarf; it stuck out above a gray uniform.
“Princess,” she rasped with a nod once Flurry was close enough. Her voice, usually grating and loud, was reduced to a near-whisper. The Princess looked down and noticed Limestone had both armbands around her forelegs, the Imperial Snowflake and the Elements of Harmony.
“What’s the situation?” Flurry asked quietly.
“The feathered idiots are trying to do a parade,” Limestone tried to spit. She only wheezed slightly.
“I meant with the city,” Flurry clarified.
“Birds are on the roofs, we’re on the streets until Canterlot Castle,” Limestone summarized. “We haven’t cleared the city, but we got the bugs mostly rounded up. The ones that surrendered anyway.”
“Any trouble?”
“Just what you already know about,” Limestone coughed. She sat on her flank and drank from a canteen for a moment with a choking gasp. “Sorry, Princess.”
“I’m going to the front,” Flurry said. “Thank you, General Pie.”
“The dogs guard Grover like he’s made of solid gold,” Limestone offered. “Hassled us to even get down through the line.”
Flurry scuffed an armored hoof across the road.
“Right,” Limestone rasped. Her eyes looked hesitant. “It’s bad, Princess.”
Flurry closed her eyes under the helmet. “I’m sure it is,” she said slowly.
“Bad enough that the Nova Griffs have to guard the bugs, and even Duskcrest has shot a couple for…” Limestone paused. “Escape attempts.”
Flurry was quiet for a moment. She forced the word out. “Twilight?”
“At the castle,” Limestone wheezed. “With Spike and Thorax. Tempest and Sunset are managing the city. I, uh, haven’t seen her.”
Tempest, Flurry opened her eyes. She nodded her horn to Limestone and walked around her soldiers. They bowed as she passed through them; her wings drifted over their lowered heads. Flurry Heart remembered an old knighting ceremony where the Princess would do that to her guards as she took their oaths of service. She spared a look at her clipped feathers. Some Princess.
Flurry trotted up the line of waiting vehicles. Some were parked crookedly due to the damage to the road; it would take weeks to make even the most basic repairs. The shelling to Lower Canterlot had started fires; fires that had spread through the outer ring and added to the spellfire damage as the city rose up. Flurry read through as many of the reports as she could stomach from her bedroll at camp.
Flurry did not remember the night she accepted Canterlot’s surrender. According to Thorax, she was asleep upright in the ancient way, head lolled to the side in as she stood in her armor. He had roused her at the arrival of a knightly war flock to assist in the assault of the city, then Sir Geralt had translated the offer of surrender from a changeling with a broken muzzle dumped in front of her.
The mare, an assistant to the former Generalmajor, was only slightly less coherent than Flurry. The alicorn had apparently thanked the knights for the information about Twilight Sparkle, accepted the changeling’s surrender, then wandered down to the latrine pits and fired a laser at Canterlot while screaming loud enough to give most of her army tinnitus for several days. Afterwards, though she did not remember it, she wandered back to her tent and passed out.
No one talked about it, at least not to her muzzle. And Flurry did not think about it. She couldn’t think about Twilight looking like her mother, or worse, or better, or how long she’d been like that.
She noticed the griffons lining the road stepping out of the way with wary eyes, and felt a trickle of blood run down her lips. Flurry licked her muzzle, then took a deep breath and pushed it out with an armored hoof. The golden fire around her horn guttered out. The gray-uniformed standard Reichsarmee soldiers still gave her a wide berth as they waited.
Flurry stomped up the road in decent time. The walls of Canterlot stretched out along the mountain, built into the supports that kept the city hanging off the side of Mount Canterhorn. They weren’t tall walls, and they were carved with ornate pictures of the sun and moon that had been broken down and defaced into Chrysalis’ trident crown.
Most of the damage was due to the recent shelling and attack, however, but Flurry could pick out plastered cracks from the first time the ELF assaulted the city. All to save Twilight, who wasn’t even here. The news about Twilight’s survival had spread through the camp. Sunset and Tempest had to restrain the shattered army from charging the city for the first few hours. Then the rest of the information spread, and Thorax quickly took his changelings into Canterlot to help deal with any holdouts that refused to surrender.
Flurry saw through it. She couldn’t blame him for getting out of the camp.
Forty thousand soldiers of the Changeling Heer were gathered in the industrial district, held in the factories that churned out whatever the Hegemony they served demanded, to be made by forced labor and slaves. The equipment they gave up would help replenish her army’s depleted stockpile, but there were also warehouses in the dockyards full of stockpiled Love, condensed and bottled. Canterlot was a hub point for the entire Love Tax across the Equestrian Heartland. Her army, what remained after the Battle of the Celestial Plain, was stretched to the limit between Canterlot and the Reich's supply lines.
Flurry eyed one of the half-tracks with a muted scoff. It was polished to a shine. Nothing in the armored column had seen combat; there was no mud, no scuff marks, no scorched plates or battle damage. Of everything about to go on parade, her purple armor was the ugliest thing in the line.
Wonder if Grover intended that. Her horn glowed idly as she stopped beside a half-track. The soldiers inside, Reichsarmee regulars in pressed uniforms, eyed her with clear fear as the alicorn stared unreadably at their vehicle. Flurry clicked her tongue.
Fresh off the assembly line, shipped to Equus, never seen a day of combat and kept in reserve. Flurry craned her helmet up and looked at the soldiers. All of the griffons were armed with semi-automatic rifles, though none reached for their slung weapons. Flurry’s eyes swept over them; her glacial blue irises were still bloodshot and she glared through the helmet.
Conscripts, she concluded for the aura around their weapons. A few regulars with some service here. Some killers, but mostly showpieces for the parade. Some had been issued the rifles so recently she couldn’t sense anything at all from them.
The core must still be pushing west or north. There had been another victory yesterday as the Reich’s Army Group North smashed the overextended Changeling Heer against the Crystal Heart’s shield. Flurry hadn’t heard about any prisoners, but that was up to Grover.
Despite the parade, it was abundantly clear that Canterlot was going to be her mess. The Kaiser had ‘requested’ part of Canterlot Castle to continue managing the frontline, but Flurry suspected he was done leading the army. You got your victory to preen your feathers with, Flurry thought.
She reached the front of the line, still parked a good distance from the gate. Her height and armor let her see over a veritable wall of armored dogs surrounding a black and gray half-track almost at the front. A low flat-bed truck was parked in front of the half-track, and the film crew that ran by was setting their multiple cameras up in the back.
Flurry groaned as the marching band in front of everything checked their instruments. It was actually a mix of griffons, ponies, and dogs, all in ornate dress uniforms. She walked towards the cordon of dogs; beyond everything, the city gates were open and she could see piles of rubble and debris swept to the side. Knights lined the edges of the street and laid atop the low roofs, scanning for threats.
To their credit, the dogs held their ground even as their ears pinned back under helmets and tails swung slightly. A few shifted their paws against the stock of their rifles. One dog stepped forward before Flurry reached them.
“No further, Princess,” the brown dog said. He wore a half-helm like her, but his eyes were clearly nervous. His whiskers twitched. “Please,” he added.
Flurry looked over his shoulder at the half-track. She blinked at the tan-feathered head leaning out of the back. With his back to her, Flurry almost didn’t recognize Grover without the heavy crown. He had leaned outward slightly, black long coat and gloves pressing against the metal of the turret atop the vehicle.
Another strangled trumpet sounded from the marching band. Flurry lost her patience.
“Kaiser Grover,” Flurry called out. The dogs in front of her tensed at the half-powered shout. The general noise of the instruments and conversations stopped. Flurry felt the stares behind her as well as the ones in front of her. All of the Reichsarmee had tried to willfully ignore her as best they could, and failed in one moment.
The dog wrenched his eyes from the Princess to look up to the half-track. Grover did not seemingly notice; Flurry realized he was reading something. After several seconds, his left wing flicked out and a few feathers bent in a signal. The dog made a gesture with his right paw and the cordon broke.
“Follow me, Princess.”
Flurry followed the dog up to the half-track. She stopped alongside it and looked up at Grover’s side. He was reading a folder. His deep blue eyes scanned a page.
Flurry waited.
Grover flipped a page in the folder and kept reading.
“Kemerskai did the same thing,” Flurry commented to the dog. “Just before I killed him.”
Grover snapped the folder shut. “Leave us, General Loudbark. Dismissed.”
The dog was clearly conflicted about it, considering the implicit threat the alicorn had just leveled at his muzzle, but he backed away with a paw on his assault rifle’s slung stock. Flurry watched him leave, then flicked her muffled ears at another warbled horn note.
“Is there something you want, Princess?” Grover asked from the top of the half-track. He looked down his beak at her, eyes slightly enlarged by the glasses perched atop it.
“Are you planning on entering my city today, Kaiser?” Flurry asked. “I could just walk or teleport in.”
“This is supposedly one of the greatest cities in the world,” Grover said slowly, as if lecturing to a foal. “It has stood for a thousand years atop this mountain, probably longer. This is a moment of triumph that will be remembered for generations.” He waved the folder at the film crew.
“Yeah,” Flurry acknowledged. “I agreed to this farce. Great military parade.”
“We had one for every kingdom reclaimed,” Grover replied.
“I’m not sure that comparing this to your reconquests is a good idea,” Flurry snarked with a toss of her head. Her horn glowed as she tugged her helmet off. Several of the nearby dogs tensed at the golden magic. The alicorn carefully sat on her flank and balanced the helmet on a crystal greave. Her buzzed mane was slick with sweat.
Grover stared down at her flatly. “Your nose is bleeding.”
Flurry snorted to check. “Was bleeding,” she corrected.
“Did you truly think you could assault this city half-dead?” Grover asked. He turned back to the report and flipped it open with a claw.
“Yes,” Flurry answered bluntly. Another series of notes rang out from the band ahead of them. The Princess’ ears twitched. “What are they playing?”
“The traditional triumph song,” Grove said idly.
“Changeling music,” Flurry stated.
“Our music,” Grover said with some heat. “The Königgrätzer Marsch if you must know.”
“Have them play something from Aquileia,” Flurry advised. “Or Wingbardy, or anything not from the Herzland.”
“They took it from us. I did not ask for your advice.”
“Fine,” Flurry scoffed. “Go ahead and march into Canterlot like Chrysalis did. Equestria didn’t have military parades.”
“Equestria did not have a military.”
Flurry actually laughed at that, and it seemingly took Grover by surprise. He lowered the folder and gave her a side-eye. Another set of instruments beat out a quick rhythm as they were tuned. The Princess listened. “All ponies are going to hear is the Changeling Heer marching through their home again.”
Grover considered it, then screeched in a high whistle. He snapped his gloved claw, and a griffon in an elaborate dress uniform broke from the band and flapped up. He hovered above the half-track and clasped a claw to his chest. “My Kaiser?”
“Something from Aquileia, one of the Discret’s songs,” Grover ordered.
The conductor paused and worried with his claws. “My Kaiser, some of the instruments are not-”
“The ponies are Aquileian, and the film will have audio added later. It makes no difference now,” Grover said. He waved his claw and the griffon nervously flapped back to the band. Flurry watched several dozen of the musicians look confused before frantically adjusting their instruments.
“Did you march all this way up here to give me musical advice?” Grover asked. “How very pony of you,” he said in a lighter tone. He tucked the folder into his jacket. “I did hear that ponies sang and frolicked.”
“I have shit to do,” Flurry retorted.
“How eloquent,” Grover quipped back in Equestrian. “Equestria was always ruled by country matters, so I suppose you will fit right in.” He leaned to the other side of the turret. “Benito, the Reichstone.”
The gray dog, scowling at Flurry, rounded the back of the half-track with the polished crown in his paws. Flurry noted one paw was heavily bandaged and the fur shaved down. Grover accepted the Reichstone, but his deep blue eyes lingered on the scarred paw until Bentio pulled his gloves on with a wince and turned away again.
Flurry shook her head. “As long as you don’t pour poison into my ear, Clawdius,” she snarked before twisting away to walk back to the tank. She levitated her helmet up to her head.
There was an abrupt clang behind her. Flurry turned around before she put her helmet back on.
Grover had dropped the Reichstone against the side of the turret and caught it awkwardly with one claw. He narrowed his eyes at her and pulled it back up. His beak opened and closed for a moment. Benito reappeared around the side of the half-track, and some of the dogs stared at the two of them from the cordon.
“What?” Flurry asked with a raised brow.
After a moment, Grover asked, “When the fuck did you read Gamlet?”
Flurry’s muzzle scrunched in amusement. “Katherine,” she answered. “Said if I could read Shakespear in Herzlander, I could read anygriff. It was a pain in the flank, but the dirty jokes were worth it.”
Grover did not respond. He put the Reichstone atop his head and adjusted his glasses.
“So I know what you just called me,” Flurry continued. She gave him a hooded look before slipping the helmet on. “How eloquent,” she repeated before turning around. The dogs did not interfere as she walked back down the line. Echoed bits of an Aquileian waltz followed her until she reached her tank and clambered back atop it.
The convoy began moving several minutes later. The driver of her tank was a griffon named Edwin, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Maar’s Daughter. Flurry caught enough mumbled prayers whenever he poked his beak out of the hatch. She settled for simply grinning at him whenever he turned to his left to look at her.
The road wound up the mountain on the eastern side; the crater from the former forest wasn’t visible, but the heaps of ash that had been cleared from the road were spread out every two dozen hooves. It was still being cleared from the mountain camp and a few of the supply lines. Parts of the Everfree Forest to the south were tinted gray. Until the spring rainstorms hit, it would remain that way.
Flurry didn’t ask about the casualty estimates from the Duskwood Forest. The Reichsarmee had lost less than they thought they would from Gallus’ veiled answer coated in propaganda, and the Changeling dead were still being counted. Chrysalis had not appeared on the radio, but the Changelings tried claiming both Flurry and Grover were killed in the attack by heroic VOPS agents smuggled behind enemy lines.
Everything she does is to try and destroy us, Flurry thought and leaned her jaw atop a bent foreleg. She felt the engine rumble underneath her. We have to do this stupid parade, she conceded. The film could be shipped back to the Reich as proof of victory, and from there it could reach the Riverlands and forestall an attack. They could attack when Grover’s losing, but now they would be truly siding with the Hegemony.
Flurry thought about her letter. No…they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t let them do it, not after this, not after I’m Princess of Equestria. She ground her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut.
They won’t let them take Twilight again.
The tank moved forward and Flurry was jarred out of her thoughts. She forced herself to exhale and her horn dimmed as the golden flames died out. She licked her lips and wiped away the new nosebleed. I look nothing like a Princess.
Her uniform was trashed, and Rarity was still coming down from the Crystal Empire with a replacement. I’m surprised she’s even making one. Flurry’s choice was her armor, the jumpsuit, or one of three pairs of identical sweatpants. With her tail cut down to the nub, it was indecent otherwise.
“Show them who you are.” Great advice, Spike. I’m the Princess, the Nightmare Reborn, Maar’s Daughter riding atop a tank into a city I can scarcely remember.
It took a long time to enter the city gates, the gilded marble redone with obsidian black stone and Chrysalis’ trident crown stamped where the sun and moon once were. Queen Chrysalis wanted the city to know it was hers. The street was empty at first, just rubble swept aside with marching knights lining the column as it slowly moved through Lower Canterlot.
Flurry had plenty of time to absorb the shattered windows and pockmarks in the bricks along the buildings, the blackened scorch marks from spellfire that melded with the fires that spread from the shelling she ordered. From the first street, it was clear that it would take decades to truly rebuild Canterlot.
Grover must be laughing at the cost. I’ll only be able to pay the debt off if I’m immortal.
Sir Geralt walked alongside the tank with a dozen other black-plated knights. His eyes swept the devastation, then lingered on a red stain around one of the drains in the street, where the rainclouds that had put out the fires washed away the blood.
Flurry sniffed and smelled smoke somewhere further in the city, though there was no more rampant fires. Burning the dead, she realized. The main street of Lower Canterlot was once full of markets and bazars, but now it was nothing but echoes and rubble.
The band played an Aquileian waltz ahead of her. Flurry listened to half of the notes; she was far back enough that she couldn’t hear everything, but she did not recognize the song. Makes sense, I doubt the Aquileian Republic ever wanted something from the Discrets.
“Citizens of Canterlot!” Gallus’ voice squawked out from a speaker ahead and behind the tank. Flurry twisted to see the speakerphones installed atop several dozen of the vehicles. “Presenting Grover von Greifenstein, Sixth of His Name, Vanquisher of the Changeling Hegemony! As we speak, his army marches across Equestria to liberate your friends and families from the cruelty of the Changelings!”
The city was quiet aside from the marching parade.
As the tank turned a corner, Flurry finally saw her ponies.
The ELF soldiers and a few Nova Griffonians had formed a cordon along the sidewalks and shattered stores to keep a wary crowd back, but there were only a few ponies there. Several dozen stood and watched with a detached weariness as the Aquilieian march rang out over the rumbling engines. Canterlot had been a unicorn city, but the crowd was mostly earth ponies in Lower Canterlot. They were thin, though not as thin as the Crystal Empire, and their eyes were tired.
Flurry looked at the scars from bullets and spells along the buildings, the shattered windows and gutted-out frames of stores and homes that had stood for centuries. Canterlot had risen up for Twilight Sparkle, but it did not seem a victory. Flurry eyed another faded stain along a drain on the street.
A pony, a blue earth pony mare, stood above the drain, looking over the rifle of an ELF pegasus. She locked purple eyes with Flurry, and her blank stare suddenly sharpened. Flurry looked away to the other side of the street as the mare began to trot along the sidewalk. She moved slowly with heavy steps.
A pegasus in a faded jumpsuit was watching Flurry from the other side of the cordon. The stallion’s eyes lit up and he quickly trotted down a side alley and disappeared. When he turned, Flurry saw clipped primary feathers along a wing. He couldn’t fly very far.
Some of the knights on the rooftops screeched victory cries as the convoy passed, and the Reichsarmee regulars marching with the vehicles screeched back. Flurry’s soldiers nodded to her when they noticed her halfway down the convoy. The parade took another turn; the road ahead burnt out and blocked by rubble.
“The Reichsarmee,” Gallus continued, “valiant soldiers of the Griffonian Reich! They fly forward under the blessing of the Gods to strike the Hegemony!”
Flurry wondered if he ever regretted going back to Griffonstone. As the tank leaned into a turn, the Princess blinked. The crowd on the next street had tripled in size, now with several hundred ponies staring at the parade. Their eyes swept along the knights and soldiers until they landed on her. Flurry spied the pegasus stallion, now with a foal on his back. The foal’s wings were similarly tattered, but the colt pointed a foreleg at her and squealed.
“Princess!”
Probably doesn’t even know my name. Flurry kept that to herself and extended her wings, letting the crystals slice through the air atop the tank. Braced atop the turret, her purple armor swirled in the midday sun. It was a bright, sunny day, and gusts of wind made the crystals in her feathers whistle.
The herd along the road stirred. Some stepped forward, checked by the ELF soldiers standing guard. A few still turned their heads to see Flurry as she rode past them. Flurry stared at the ponies of Canterlot as they seemed to suddenly come back to life after years of a holed hoof pressing down on their necks.
Earth ponies with leaden horseshoes to limit how far they could run. Unicorns with chips and divots in the base of their horns or the point filed down. Pegasi with clipped feathers to limit their flight. All of them, lean and tired with rough fur and manes. Some stood with groups of friends and family, and some strangers formed little herds along the sidewalk, strangers banding together in an instinctual show of solidarity. Many were as young as her, but their eyes seemed decades older.
I’m sure mine look the same.
“Princess!” another mare’s voice shouted. The blue earth pony tried to shove her way through the crowd, still following the tank on leaden hooves. “Princess Flurry Heart!” the mare screamed again. She suddenly tried to push her way onto the street, checked by a rifle held by an ELF earth pony. She backed up and continued to push her way through the crowd.
“Princess!” the pegasus added his voice to his son’s shout. “Princess Flurry!”
The knights and Reichsarmee soldiers fluttered their wings as the crowd along both sides of the street began to chant. Hooves pounded. Some ponies tried to keep following through the crowd, causing it to surge along the cordon.
“Ponies of Canterlot…” Whatever else Gallus attempted to say was drowned out by the stomping of thousands of hooves. By the time Flurry reached the end of the street, the beat had solidified into a rhythm above a chant.
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
Flurry could no longer hear the marching band at the front of the convoy. Every street the convoy turned down gained more ponies. They only began to stomp once they saw her, clearly waiting feverishly. Fillies and colts balanced on the backs of their families or older siblings. A few pegasi flapped with their wings above the crowd, checked from approaching by nervous Reichsarmee soldiers. Some struggled up to the roofs only to be chased away by the knight standing guard.
The convoy reached one of the connective marble bridges to Middle Canterlot. The gates were open on both sides, and the sandbag checkpoint dismantled. Flurry, still atop her tank in the middle, stared over the side of the bridge to the river below; the water flowed down the mountain into a sparkling waterfall somewhere to the west. She spotted sandbags and debris in the current. A black-uniformed changeling was caught in some of the twisted wreckage, floating muzzle down in the current.
The whinnies and shouts from Middle Canterlot were deafening. Flurry’s eyes widened as thousands of ponies came into sight lining the street and barely checked by soldiers. The knights along the rooftops had readied their rifles and screeched warnings to radio griffons alongside the roofs. More ponies were joining the herd, and all of them stomped and shouted one word.
“Princess!”
Some added her name, lost in the whinnies. Many more just saw the horn and wings and surged forward. Flurry’s horn glowed with the detection spell, and the magic pulsed through the nearby crowd.
None of them were changelings, but they felt the magic and redoubled their stomps. Several of the Reichsarmee soldiers broke their formation alongside the convoy to assist Flurry’s ponies from preventing the crowd from breaking through. The gray-uniformed ELF soldiers did not complain as the Reichsarmee helped shove the crowd back.
Sir Geralt looked up at Flurry, then began running swiftly down the line. “Check your weapons!” he screeched. “No firing! Do not fire!” The nervous soldiers adjusted their grips on the rifles, eying the increasing herd.
Flurry opened her mouth to say something, then shut it with a clack of her teeth. I’ll just make it worse. She did not wave to the crowd, though it did not seem to matter. They waved to her even as she kept her eyes forward.
Halfway through the Arts District, ugly and broken and damaged, the cordon finally shattered. A mare shoved her way past the griffons and ponies, fell into the street, then ran towards the tank. Reichsarmee soldiers aimed at her and tensed, but hesitated to fire. Flurry grabbed the mare in her aura and lifted her up. She felt another trickle of blood come down from her nostril.
Grabbing somepony with your magic was highly rude, and most unicorns could not manage it. Flurry remembered her father admonishing her for doing it once when she was three. It was her first proper scolding, and Flurry did not even remember what the maid did that upset her enough to pick her up and carry her away from her toy box.
The mare was ecstatic and weeping tears of joy.
“Princess!”
Flurry floated her back to the crowd. Ponies grabbed at the mare and held her up when the alicorn released her, and the mare surfed along the top of the crowd for several hoof lengths before disappearing into the herd. The crowd surged again, and Flurry heard voices shouting behind her. She twisted around on the turret.
Ponies had followed the tail of the convoy, and now they started to overwhelm the rear guards through sheer numbers. It wasn’t an attack; they were clearly trying to follow her. Flurry heard the engine rev underneath her as the tank gained speed. The convoy began to speed up, no longer at a sedate parade pace.
The convoy drove past an old observatory, twisted down another road and passed the burnt-out husk of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. A herd stood in the rubble, using it as a vantage point to see the convoy. They whinnied as Flurry blew past them.
The checkpoint to the Estates District and Canterlot Castle had been abandoned as the Reichsarmee and ELF fell back towards the castle, just like the Changeling garrison. The herd practically chased the convoy through the city, even as the vehicles started to blitz through the streets. They left the walking soldiers behind; a few climbed back onto their vehicles, but many more climbed off to join in trying to keep the crowd at bay.
Flurry continued to cast the detection spell, letting it flow through the city blocks as she rode the tank. The whinnies seemed to only get louder each time the spell ran through the crowd. The chant and stomp rattled the broken cobblestones and vibrated the windows of the houses they passed.
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
After they crossed the bridge, the ponies of the Estate District roared as the convoy blitzed through the streets. Flurry spotted a discarded trumpet from the marching band along the side of the road. The ponies lining the street weren’t wealthy, many wore rough servant uniforms or stood naked. The alicorn did not see any of the supposed nobility in the crowd, though that made sense. The main road didn’t go through the mansions; it led directly to the castle at the city’s edge.
Canterlot Castle loomed ahead of them. Once gold and white marble with purple trim, the castle was now trimmed black and purple, and a large arch stood before the courtyard entrance. Chrysalis’ trident crown was emblazoned at the apex of the arch. Flurry stared at the crown as she approached, eyes sweeping over shattered windows beyond and scars of battle damage.
The convoy stopped. Flurry knew it was intended to park before the courtyard and castle, but it was too early. It was supposed to line up ahead of the grand entrance. She turned around to see the rear completely overwhelmed by the herd following it. Soldiers fell back from the vehicles, but no shots rang out under the shouts. Sir Geralt returned leading a group of black-plated knights from the herd surging up the line.
“My ponies seem to be swarming you,” Flurry observed dryly.
“Mhm,” Sir Geralt nodded. “They’re leaving us alone. They aren’t here for us.”
Several griffons flapped over the vehicles, rejoining the front of the convoy. The tank’s engine stopped and Edwin poked his beak out of the hatch. He turned around to see the colorful herd rush up the line, then he tugged the hatch shut with another fearful prayer. The tank remained idle.
“We have orders not to shoot and fall back,” Sir Geralt explained up to Flurry.
“How gracious,” Flurry remarked back. She flexed her legs and leapt off the side of the tank. Her horn glowed above her helmet. “I’ll buy time.” A shield flickered around her, and the alicorn ignored the pain in the base of her horn.
Sir Geralt nodded and quickly left. Flurry moved towards the rear, trotting briskly under the shield. The Reichsarmee had stopped their tanks and half-tracks as the parade collapsed; the drivers and remaining soldiers gaped at her as Flurry descended back downhill to her ponies.
The herd, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns, noticed her golden shield and the shouts increased in volume. More griffons took the moment to break away. A few of the ELF soldiers still tried to keep the herd at bay, but they were being pushed up the street, too nervous to shove back with any force.
A unicorn commander noticed Flurry’s approach and turned to her with a sparking horn. “Get to the castle, Princess,” she pleaded. “Please, we can’t hold them.”
“Let them through,” Flurry said instead.
The unicorn’s eyes drifted to Flurry’s muzzle, and her nosebleed.
“Let them through,” Flurry said again. The herd beyond whinnied.
“Princess!”
The mare bit her lip, then fired up a green flare with her horn. Flurry’s soldiers moved to the sides, and the herd spilled forward up the vehicles. The Princess trotted down to meet them in her golden shield.
The blue earth pony was part of the head of the herd. She had kicked off her leaden horseshoes and stood on bloody hooves. Her coat was frothy from the exertion of keeping up with the vehicles. A dozen ponies, unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies, suddenly hesitated as the resistance to their advanced crumbled. They were pushed forward by other behind them.
Flurry waited until they reached her shield. The blue mare reached out with one of her bloody hooves and touched the edge. Her eyes shimmered with a mix of fear and awe as static clung to the hairs on her foreleg.
The mare was older than her, but Flurry was taller. The alicorn raised her wings to the edges of the golden bubble and let arcs of electricity tumble down her feathers and race along the crystal wing joints. She smiled under her helmet. Flurry hoped it was a nice smile.
The mare cried and hugged the shield, uncaring of the static and electricity. “Princess!” she sobbed. The herd rushed forward and around and embraced the golden bubble, pressing their hooves against it to feel the aura. Flurry was surrounded by hundreds of ponies in less than a minute. All of them only shouted one word.
“Princess!”
Flurry began to slowly move towards the castle, letting the shield flex. It expanded and contracted slowly, and she pushed the crowd back as gently as she could. The blue mare disappeared into the crowd as a unicorn stepped forward and pressed her hoof into the bubble for a moment, then a pegasus stallion replaced the unicorn. The herd ebbed like a tide as Flurry moved through them. A few pegasi struggled to flap with their clipped wings, just long enough to skim across the crowd and touch the shield before vanishing back into the herd.
Flurry Heart did not say anything; she simply plastered a smile onto her muzzle and walked through the crowd. Her height made her easily visible, and Flurry could see the hundreds swell to thousands coming up from the road. The crowd had completely overtaken half the convoy, and ponies clambered up onto the tanks and half-tracks to get a better view of the alicorn walking alongside the parked vehicles to the castle.
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
“PRINCESS!”
Hooves pounded on the metal as the chant solidified into a rhythm. It was almost musical, and Flurry briefly wondered if she should try to sing. She looked up to the black arch she was approaching, and the urge faded as quickly as it came.
A line of scout tanks had blocked off the courtyard, and Griffonian knights stood ready atop the tanks to keep the crowd at bay. Canterlot Castle, black and purple and nothing like it should be, stretched out like a blackened spire and monument to the Hegemony.
Flurry trotted under the arch, and the crowd gradually receded as she flexed the shield again. Her ponies finally gave her space and she pushed herself free just before the line of tanks. Flurry Heart turned to face her subjects in her armor.
Thousands of ponies stared back and pounded their hooves with the chant. Colts and fillies had been lifted up onto backs, and ponies swarmed the stalled convoy to see her. Flurry could spot her soldiers slowly working their way through the crowd and horns pulse with the detection spell.
“My ponies!” Flurry called out. Her voice caused a crackle of magic to wave across her golden bubble.
“PRINCESS!” the crowd roared.
“I said I would come for you,” Flurry continued, “and I have!”
“PRINCESS!”
Flurry looked behind her to the line of tanks and knights. She flexed her legs. She dropped the shield and leapt in one bound onto the turret of one of the Gunnhildur tanks. Her hooves dented the metal with a clang. The knight atop it startled back with ruffled feathers and a half-drawn sword, but Flurry turned to the crowd as he stumbled down into the courtyard.
“I am here,” Flurry shouted, “because of you, my ponies of Canterlot. Because of the ELF. Because of the Crystal Empire. Because of Aquileians and Nova Griffonians and Herzlanders! Yaks and dragons and changelings!”
The crowd whinnied.
“I am here because of Kaiser Grover VI,” Flurry concluded. “Because of the Griffonian Reich and the Reichsarmee who race across Equestria to defeat the Changeling Hegemony! As long as we live, we have not lost!”
The crowd cheered, and the chant remained the same.
“PRINCESS!”
“PRINCESS!”
“PRINCESS!”
Her ponies did not attempt to rush the tanks. Flurry hopped down and out of sight, but the chant continued anyway. She faced the inner courtyard. Hundreds of Reichsarmee regulars and knights waited along the walls, mixed with the fancy uniformed marching band. The flatbed truck still had the film crew atop it, but they were seemingly disoriented about where to point their cameras.
Grover VI stood before the main entrance to Canterlot Castle, up a set up steps that allowed him to see over the tanks and down the street. He was surrounded by two dozen dogs and a few knights.
Behind him, Thorax and Sunset Shimmer waited in the open doors with several soldiers. Flurry approached, taking the steps up the castle as the crowd whinnied. The dogs let her pass without issue this time, staring out at the screaming crowd. Benito checked her at the last moment with a gloved paw and turned to his Kaiser.
Grover stared out at the crowd from behind his glasses and idly waved a wing. Flurry walked up next to him. The street to the castle was covered with colorful dots as far as the eye could see. They had climbed atop the stalled vehicles and beat their hooves against the cobblestone and metal.
Flurry, clad in purple armor and as tall as any dog, was easily visible from the double doors. She raised her wings again, stepping to the side and moving them slowly as Benito glanced at the crystal knives at the end of her feathers. The herd whinnied in one great noise that reverberated through the city.
Grover said something. The Reichstone bobbed atop his tan feathers.
“What?” Flurry asked.
“You ordered this city shelled,” Grover said in a low squawk. “You nearly blew it off the mountain.” His eyes scanned the crowd. "You were willing to destroy the city."
“Yes,” Flurry agreed.
“And they still cheer,” the griffon whispered. Flurry nearly missed it.
A photographer approached from the flatbed. “My Kaiser!” the griffon called out, struggling to be heard over the crowd. “A photograph, my Kaiser? For the papers?”
Grover nodded to Benito. The Reichstone shifted and he steadied it with a claw. The dog waved the photographer up. The griffon flapped his wings and hovered, adjusting the lens. He hesitated and shifted to the side, then steadied himself.
The photographer paused again and lowered the camera. His beak went from Grover to Flurry before he flapped up slightly higher. Benito stepped to the side, and the dogs spread out along the steps to get out of the photograph.
Flurry Heart was reminded of Kemerskai again, and how he wanted a photograph of her. She looked down at Grover to her right, who was still staring out at the crowd with unreadable blue eyes.
She looked down at Grover. Her helmet and gorget were stiff.
Right.
Flurry folded her wings back up, then stepped down on the stairs until the Princess and the Kaiser appeared to be at equal height. Her horn still spiraled above the Reichstone. The photographer flapped backwards and steadied himself to get them in the frame.
“I do not need your pity,” Grover said suddenly from behind Flurry. She sensed movement as he turned to enter the castle. “Benito!” Grover called out. “With me.” The dogs quickly formed up and followed as the Kaiser entered Canterlot Castle ahead of Flurry Heart. The photographer dropped back down to the rest of the film crew without taking a picture.
Sunset and Thorax stepped aside as the entourage of guards swept past them. They waited for Flurry as the crowd continued to cheer. Several of the soldiers pulled the doors shut after the alicorn entered. She cast the detection spell one last time with an apologetic grimace to Thorax.
Thorax smiled as the magic buzzed across his carapace and purple uniform. “It’s fine, Princess,” he assured her.
The crowd faded to a muffled reverb with the doors closed. Grover, the dogs, and the knights disappeared down a corridor to the east wing of the castle. Flurry watched them leave, then inspected foyer to the castle.
All of the white marble and gilded lattices had been replaced with solid black stone. The floor was checkered black and green, the colors of the Changeling Hegemony. Flurry trotted forward towards the grand throne room where Celestia held court for petitioners, and her small group followed wordlessly.
An obsidian throne sat upon the high dais. Black steps led up to it. The entire throne room was redecorated, none of the blues or golds or whites remained. It was all green and purple and black, from the pillars to the chandeliers to the floor and the rug leading up to the steps to the throne.
Flurry turned her helmet up to the windows last. All of them depicted Chrysalis leading a swarm of changelings, either from atop a tank or flying herself. The Queen pointed forward in some of the windows, or she stood proud and watched as her changelings rushed ahead on their own.
One window had her standing over a white unicorn and a pink alicorn, defeated and broken below her hooves. The window across from that one had her standing above three alicorns, one white, one blue, and one purple. I’m not even worth a window, Flurry thought to herself.
The grandest window, behind the throne room and facing west so the sun could shine through it as it set, depicted the Great Queen and Empress of Equus sitting atop her throne as uncountable changelings bowed to her. Ponies of every tribe bowed behind the changelings. Chrysalis’ fanged smile in the image was radiant, even when it was barely detailed.
Thorax stopped beside Flurry and nuzzled her unarmored lower jaw. She leaned into it. “Thank you, uncle.”
“We’re still sweeping the city,” Thorax said quietly. “The holdouts were taken care of in a day.”
“Executed?” Flurry asked. She already knew the answer.
“Yes,” Thorax said. “The rest are being held near the dockyards.”
“The castle is secure,” Sunset said from behind Flurry. “They didn’t build new wings or overhaul the floor plan. I grew up in this place.” Her eyes swept the windows. “Celestia redid it when Luna returned. We can redo it again.”
“We’re broke,” Flurry sighed. “I’m not bothering with redoing it. We’ll strip it.”
Sunset nickered. “Princess-”
“Where’s my aunt?” Flurry interrupted with cold eyes.
Sunset’s ears pressed back. She took a moment. “West wing. Guest quarters.”
“I don’t know where that is,” Flurry shook her head. “I remember a dining hall, maybe.”
“You would have been six or seven,” Thorax said lightly. He buzzed a wing towards the hallway to the western side of the castle. Flurry followed him. “Spike’s with her.”
“How is he?”
Thorax licked his fangs and stopped in a hallway. He nodded to an ELF soldier guarding the intersection, and the pegasus opened the door. The mare swallowed queasily at the smell of burnt flesh, but her eyes were hard.
Flurry stared at the smoking, mangled corpse of a changeling in the hallway beyond the door. She couldn’t tell the gender. Another was behind it, with a great claw wound in its back.
“Follow the smell,” Thorax said quietly.
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The Suspense of not knowing if Twilight is dead or not is fucking me up man
11557807
Probably WW2 German Tanks so Panzers, Leopards, Tigers and so on
11558091
I’m wondering if Flurry Heart has permanently damaged her own magical abilities from that demonstration in the forest
Very nice, hits all the right spots
11558110
Honestly, she's probably just constantly magically exhausted and not letting herself rest properly.
Poor griffons. They came to brag, and nopony cares about them. They only care about Flurry.
11558157
It also kind of shows how out of touch Celestia is, she's trying to say that Flurry is going too far and so on. ultimately though this scene is proof that when Ponies have lost hope and have been abused, they don't care about what their princess had to become to rescue them, only that she's come to rescue them at all.
I wonder how the meeting with Twilight will go. And would not be surprised if Flurry got her Cutie Mark, on something like the Alicorn of Iron - the only one capable of handling the most difficult tasks sucessfully.
11558091
She is alive.
11558110
Nah, she's exhausted herself before, and it took awhile for her to recover properly.
She's OP, but she's not going to be blasting the shieldnuke every other day.
11558157
True, the Reichsarmee has spent a long time fighting other griffons to reclaim their territory. Duty Price mentioned it to Bronzetail in Manehattan; they're flying forward like a conquering army, no matter what they insist on the radio or through poor Gallus.
11558161
Flurry's cutie mark is the Crystal Heart within a blue shield surrounded by blue flames. It's been a matter of debate what it means.
Phenomenal as always.
Crispy bugs
11558160
I'd imagine Celestia and Luna won't be getting warm welcomes if they try to return to Equestria, especially if Flurry emphasis to the ponies where those 2 have been and what they've been doing the whole time the population was suffering.
Why didn't you pay for it?
11558255
Because it was entirely my decision?
11558250
I really want to see this happen
I was kind of hoping her entry into the city would be more like this.
https://youtu.be/4xW0s6XFJyw
Oh, i think Spike is gonna be mad. So mad it will be a fury that will wake the dragons to War. Because his Anger will be a thing the God's have never seen. It will be a fury to drive before him his enemy's and make them die in the fire of his hate. He got huge because of Greed. Grief and Hatred will turn him into a monster.
I dunno Flurry, I have a feeling he might surprise you here.
He got a hit of that HoI4 Dopamine with that battle, he's gonna be chasing that for a while.
11558324
You gotta love the green bubbles
11558324
Well he did get a nice encirclement. Now to make it bigger and spam those CAS planes.
11558288
Agreed
It is a universal constant that the strong enforce their will. Or, more accurately, those who enforce their will are the strong. The citizenry will see the force that comprehensively destroyed their oppressors.
11558440
"The weak will always be victims. That is the way of the universe. The strong take what they want, and the weak suffer at their hands. That is their fate; it is inevitable. Only the strong survive because only the strong deserve to." -Darth Bane
this ending has me worried about whether Spike will be in his mental faculties to recognize his surroundings
11558450
He misses out on important details, that being that "strong" and "weak" are defined by the winner rather than the starting circumstances and that the strong don't have to take from "victims", but he isn't completely wrong despite the words being flavored as a villain.
The strong do as they will, the weak suffer what they must.
As in, this is the Kaiser’s fancy schmancy personal flag of the empire, or that it’s like the imperial Austrian flag (Black over Yellow) that also represented the House of Hapsburg?
Come to think of it, is the flag based off of one from the mod or IRL or did you come up with it?
If Grover subtly threw shade at Flurry, I completely missed it. Might I get an explanation?
For some, I suspect they almost cheer because of that, not in spite of it. “Their” princesses were not only unwilling to make hard decisions, they failed to recognize that sometimes you must ignore some of your ideals in order to protect them. They’ve suffered immensely for it, and in addition to a savior always being welcome, one who is willing to do almost anything to protect them is a welcome change.
Oh. Well then.
11558681
Well Bane's ideology basically was "If You call yourself strong, and I kill you or subjugate you, then you aren't strong, you are weak, and I deserve to do what I want to you"
Like here's an interaction between him and his apprentice when she tried to betray him and he survived the assassination attempt
Zannah: "I knew you had the strength to defeat them, Master. That is why I didn't come to your aid during the battle."
Bane: "And what if you were wrong? What if they had somehow killed me?"
Zannah: "Then you would have been weak, unworthy of being Dark Lord of the Sith. And you would have deserved to die."
Bane: "Precisely."
11558709
From Hamlet, where Hamlet is laying his head in Ophelia's lap and says he is thinking of "country matters." Grover called Flurry a...well, that, and Flurry picked up on it.
Reference to Claudius, the usurping uncle and manner of Hamlet's father's death. Flurry didn't seem to be that offended, really. For Grover, realization hits that the only person that gets his references is the alicorn that barely knows what communism is or how to rebuild her economy.
The flags are from the mod, except Flurry's Imperial Snowflake is from the original cover art more than the mod's design. (Think Imperial Japan.)
11558093
if you mean the Griffon Reich, it's more Italian and Hungarian Inspired Tanks than German that's the Changeling Hegemony Tank Core
11559150
Ah good to know, I haven't played the Mod so
11559240
No Hiroshimaar?☹️
1000th comment right here.
Considering we’ve been explicitly told that Flurry can make that distinction fairly easily that’s…not good.
Flurry have better sent the pictures of Twilight to Celestia. Show her what her cowardice has wrought.
Should be bombarding Celestia with pictures of EVERYTHING, over and over again.
Petulant little shit. Why the buck do people like Grover? Giant petulant spoiled asshole the entire time who does monstrous things becuase he wants to - not becuase he has to like Flurry - but whereas Flurry gets hate in the comments everybody seems to love him. He manipulated and exploits Flurry but because he doesn't go so far as to HAVE HER KILLED apparently he's a paragon of honour and is amazing.
Flurry Heart - hanging bug Nazi's = evil monster witch
Grover - ordering his tanks to RUN OVER students because he can't bear to give up a inch of power = great guy
The Ponies have literally just freed their capital and all he cares about is getting his parade and propaganda. And Flurry lets him, and does all she can to help his parade and make his wittle ego feel better to the detriment of the oppressed tortured people she's just rescued.
Because apparently Grover's oversized ego is more important than concentration camp survivors. Should have just told him to fuck off.
But no, she literally delayed helping torture survivors so Grover could stroke his ego.
The fucker didn't even remotely consider how playing the music the changelings have copied through the city just freed from them would look. Like how bucking obvious is that. Says everything you need to know about what kind of person he is.
oh its really bad.... isn't it.
This chapter was powerful
11694958
Flurry still loves Celestia, she will send no pictures. Furthermore, Celestia and Luna already know what Chrysalis has done to their fellow alicorns.
Now about Grover, I won't say he is a paragon of virtue, but he is the greatest Kaiser since Grover the Great. Rolling over the students was wrong, but apparently a necessary measure to ensure the continuity of the Kaiser's power (over the military). Not to forget Grover has indeed made some reforms. I like to think they are the same as in the mod. Both Flurry and Grover have killed millions of changeling, which I consider some kind of genocide, mainly because all changelings encountered in the front are deemed as infiltrators and killed. Flurry though has killed them herself, while Grover makes use of his Reichsarmee. Moreover, Flurry has killed her own subjects just to further her war effort. She is willing to kill millions of ponies for the liberation of Equestria. And the hangings are done arbitrarily, no trial, no justice. Now, regarding their formal relationship, Flurry deliberately lets Grover "exploit" her because she needs him. It was the Reichsarmee and Grover who liberated Equestria and Canterlot, who crossed the ocean and obliterated the Hegemony. To rebuild, Flurry will need the Reich, in fact, she wouldn't and won't be anything without the Reich. Now, the parade, and Flurry needing to be humiliated for Grover, it's not his ego, but his image before his subjects what is being protected there. Unlike Flurry, Grover, mostly against his desires, needs this kinds of formalities. Being the Kaiser requires for them.