Valor is Magic

by NotSoSubtle

Chapter 11: Stars and Moon

Stars and Moon

For most of his life, Kaleb believed the phrase “A den of Zinthos” to be a mere expression, one that meant a place where bloodthirsty, backstabbing, and unscrupulous griffins would mingle for purposes unwholesome. In delivering his first summons as a messenger for Khan Cyrus, he discovered that the reality was much more literal than he first imagined.

He had been ushered into what must have been the darkest room in the city and told Tomalak was inside. It was a long room, Kaleb was sure, but how long he couldn’t tell. The only light came from the door behind him, barely amounting to starlight on a cloudy night. He took a few steps forward, the motion helping him see the outline of debris piles along the walls of the room. So long as they stayed low and quiet, trying to spot a black-feathered Zinthos in such a place would be impossible. More than that, the darkness was suited to both their raven and panther halves. He stopped and held his breath to listen, ears flicking left and right.

He was not alone. The sound of soft breathing echoed dully in the space, and from more than one griffin. If the Zinthos griffin at the door could be trusted, one of them would be Tomalak.

“Khan Tomalak of Zinthos!” Kaleb announced, bowing his shoulders low against his better instincts. He kept his eyes open and did not lower his beak. “Honored Khan whose name is known among all prides. I am sent by my khan, who is Cyrus of Aquila. I would speak with you on his behalf.”

For a few moments there was nothing. Kaleb listened again, but the sound of breathing stopped. He waited.

In the shadows of the far corner, something moved.

“It would seem the rumors were exaggerated, father,” purred a feminine voice from ahead somewhere. “There is at least one mannered Aquila messenger.”

A second voice arose from his left, deeper but still feminine. “Begone, little herald. Tomalak has no time for weaklings.”

“Be still, sister,” came a third from his right, another female. “Something is curious about this one.”

Kaleb remained still. Tomalak would likely honor the protection of messengers so long as he gave them no reason to strike, but the black-feathered griffins would have all the advantages of terrain here should they decide to test him. Any fighting would be ugly and over fast.

A large form to his left rose up and stepped closer, matching the strong voice that came from her. “When Khan Cyrus wishes to speak with my father, he sends his brother. Where is Aun?”

“He does not smell like Aquila. No…his musk is of the lowlands. ” A wire-framed griffin stood in the far corner, the source of the first voice. “Oh, ears! He must be a Tshaka. Papa, may we kill the imposter?”

“I am no imposter,” Kaleb retorted with the calm of confidence. “And it would be wise to know to whom you speak before you suggest they lie. Some griffin might get hurt.”

“Ooo,” She cooed. “I take it back. Imposter or not, I want to keep this one.”

“Daughters, please. The lowlander is right.” Tomalak’s voice rumbled the casual reprimand from somewhere ahead of Kaleb. It was hard to tell. Sound reflected oddly in this place. “What have I told you about taunting visitors before introductions?”

One of them, possibly the youngest, sighed. “Please, father. He is Tshaka. There have been no important griffins of that pride since their seer passed on.”

Not ten paces in front of Kaleb, Khan Tomalak slowly sat up and revealed his position in the dark room. The Zinthos’ silver-flecked head and neck feathers contrasted with the blackness of his natural color and the nearly lightless background. At full height the aged Zinthos was not much taller than Kaleb at the shoulder, but his slightly longer neck and torso gave the griffin an imperious, looming silhouette. The impression became more exaggerated as he stood and took a few steps forward, his limbs still almost invisible even as he moved.

Surrounded by Tomalak and his retinue, Kaleb recognized it would be a small matter for the group to make him ‘disappear’ and deny that he ever arrived—or at least, so they would assume. His ears twitched, and as his heart rate climbed his mind’s eye reviewed every throwing knife and bolo he carried on his sash.

The khan diffused some of the tension with warm words and welcoming gestures between Kaleb and those surrounding him. “Daughters, please welcome Kaleb of Tshaka, blood brother of Cyrus of Aquila by rite and tradition.” He smiled. “And only male offspring of the Seer Hrothgar, who read Khan Cyrus’s stars.”

There were quiet gasps from the female Zinthos ahead and to the right. The larger of the two purred. “The witness of Cyrus’s first dragon kill? My, we are graced with a minor celebrity.”

“So, you are he who slew Arelius of Hierax in lawful combat. Pity,” said the young one in the back. “The one who replaced him guards better his secrets.”

The tallest, still standing to his left, tilted her head to one side. “But he’s so small, father. Scrawny, even.”

Tomalak rolled his eyes. “How diplomatic of you, Regina.” Tomalak made introductions. “I imagine we’ll be seeing more of Kaleb in the future, so I’d take it as a kindness if you’d refrain from causing him any undo blood loss.”

“Father,” the smallest pouted. “You know we’re better behaved than that. We always ask first.”

Kaleb’s eyes were starting to adjust to the low light, enough to let him see Tomalak give his daughter a doting hug. “I know, dear, and that’s why I love you.” She giggled. He turned to once again face the visitor. “While we appreciate your gracious manner, you’ll find we run things a bit more informally around here. And please, rise. I am not your khan, nor the genghis.”

As he did so, the middle-height daughter to Kaleb’s right whispered mirthfully as he stood. “At least, not yet.”

Tomalak hissed and took a sudden step toward her, eliciting cringes from all three of his daughters. They cowered and returned to the shadows while Tomalak recomposed himself. “I suppose that handles introductions, at least. It is good that they know your face, with Aun slain.” He put a clutch over his heart. “The loss of Cyrus’s dear brother grieves us all.”

Kaleb doubted it, but in either case it mattered little.

“But lets us depart,” the Zinthos continued. “I am sure your khan will be very eager to begin this council.”

The Tshaka raised a questioning eyebrow. “How did you know my message was a summons?”

“Kaleb, Kaleb,” Tomalak said shaking his head. “You wound me. Every griffin in the city knows what this council is about.”

---

The flight back to the weather factory was uneventful. Tomalak elected to make the flight without his retinue. There were no interruptions or delays. Neither spoke the whole way. Kaleb silently thanked Tengri for all three blessings.

In spite of the damage from the night before, the structure had begun to stir with activity. Small wisps of clean smoke and vapor rose from some of the smaller chimneys, the trails bending in the winter breeze until they melded into the charcoal clouds that hung around the city. As the two griffins descended, holes in the roof revealed griffins with bound ponies in several rooms, musing over devices and machines.

“Hm,” Tomalak mused. “I wouldn’t have expected this progress so soon. They’re ahead of schedule.”

Kaleb ignored the comment, searching the complex below. “There,” he said, pointing a talon ahead.

On the cloud production wing of the building, a cluster of Aquila had gathered near one of the larger gaps in the roof. Among them sat a massive griffin, twice the height of those around him. He sat apart from the others, facing into the west wind, seemingly at peace.

Khan Cyrus sat alone. Looking at him from above, at this distance, it suited him.

As they approached, Kaleb began to identify others nearby. Orm sat vigil for his khan, his calm eyes searching the clouds. Ingrid of the Valyries was also near and the first to spot the new arrivals on their approach.

Gilda sat with Ingrid. She smiled. Kaleb tried to not notice.

Cyrus spoke while the arrivals were landing. “Greetings, Khan Tomalak. Pride Aquila thanks you for your hasty arrival.” He did not stir otherwise. This close, Kaleb could now see he was still without his gauntlets. Orm had mentioned earlier that they had been left with the Immortal’s armorer, that Celestia’s magic had damaged or stained them. When Kaleb had pressed for more, Orm angrily claimed to not know, and declared in a huff that such things were a matter for seers and the armorers to understand, and after a bit of consideration Kaleb couldn't help but agree with him.

“I would never doubt Aquila thanks,” Tomalak announced with just a hint of sarcasm.

Kaleb did his best to hide his smirk. The two khans had a short but antagonistic history, beginning several years ago when Cyrus was first proposing this campaign to other leaders in secret. The Tshaka griffin had unwillingly been swept up in the politics of those days, as a major point of credibility for the whole plan was Cyrus’s belief that he could, in fact, slay the Nightmare given the chance. Kaleb had been the only witness to Cyrus’s first victory over a dragon. Many doubted their recounting, saying that there must be some detail they may not be aware of that was a factor when Cyrus slew the dragon. Strong as Cyrus was, they reasoned, no griffin could hope to slay a healthy firebreather in his prime.

They demanded that Cyrus prove his claim before any discussion of an invasion could be broached. Tomalak suggested that to do so again, with appointed witnesses of many prides, would settle all doubts. It was an easy guess that the Zinthos Khan saw two possible outcomes: Cyrus would decline and lose standing, or perish in the attempt.

Tomalak had failed to account for a third possible outcome.

Cyrus returned victorious. “Take this trophy,” he had said to the elder Zinthos, after dropping a fang ripped from the fallen beast at his feet. “So that you may look to it next you doubt the word of Aquila or Tshaka.”

“Burn,” Herger had whispered through a suppressed grin, drawing out the word.

Tomalak, still Jochi’s greatest rival, chafed from that minor political defeat.

Well enough, Kaleb thought, smirking up at Tomalak without any effort to hide it. Squirm and moan, honorless Zinthos filth. There are no shadows to hide you from me.

The Zinthos did his best to ignore him, but Kaleb saw his left eye twitch. “Ah, and Lady Ingrid,” he said, turning to the elder female in their midst. “It is always a pleasant surprise to see you at council.”

“It is you who surprise, Khan Tomalak,” she replied easily. “I would think that even in your advanced years you would notice a pattern. I have been honored many times by Khan Cyrus to attend council as his adviser.”

“Until you have an appointment of oversight from the pridemothers, I will always be surprised to see you at council,” he stated casually, making a display of circling to find a place to be comfortable. “And it is my pleasure to be charitable towards hens regardless of pride or merit.”

Ingrid smirked. “A wise policy, khan. One never knows which ‘hen’ may someday become a pridemother.”

“Well yes, I suppose.” Tomalak said, waving a clutch in a dismissive gesture. He looked to Cyrus. “Am I also to suppose that we can expect Pyrrhus to grace us with his simian-like intellect?”

Gilda chuckled, then hung her head when she realized she was alone in her enjoyment.

“My brother was sent for him.” Cyrus still hadn’t opened his eyes. “They should be arriving soon.”

Tomalak grunted. “Very well, then. Duty demands that even a khan of my importance must, on occasion, wait on his inferiors.”

They waited, and shadows bent under the moving sun. Eventually a worried and mildly ashamed Herger joined then on the rooftop, by which time every griffin but Cyrus had become annoyed by his absence. He didn’t even have time to speak before Ingrid rose and faced him.

“You arrive alone.” She furrowed her brow. “Where is Khan Pyrrhus of Hierax?”

“He. Uh.” Herger held his head low, looking to his elder sibling. “He isn’t coming, brother. Sorry.”

No one spoke as Cyrus took a deep, thoughtful breath and let it out again. “What did Pyrrhus say?”

Herger stiffened and blinked, a more tangible fear overcoming his previous worry. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, um, I don’t remember?”

Cyrus set his jaw, neck visibly tense even under his feathers. “What,” he repeated, “was said, brother?”

Herger raised his head, his eyes apologetic and pleading. “Look, bro. Trust me on this, I don’t remember and right now you don’t want me to.” He stepped past the Zinthos so the khan couldn’t see his face, and indicated Tomalak with a quick darting motion of his eyes. “If I think on it real hard, I might be able to remember later.”

Kaleb and Gilda exchanged a glance. Herger had a well-deserved reputation as a bumbler and a clown. Could he really be holding something back for Cyrus to hear in private, or even just away from Tomalak? Pyrrhus was not one for wit or plans. He was brash and impulsive, giving casual insult to those around him simply because no had…

…oh.

If Pyrrhus had been fool enough to send Herger back with an insulting message, Cyrus would be obligated to call him out. But that obligation would put the stability of the whole invasion at risk. Pyrrhus, like Tomalak, had been sent by his pride to oversee their forces and represent them at council. Any confrontations between them would cause ripples in the confederacy, perhaps even enough for one of the prides to return home. Or worse.

Whatever it was, it must not have been a small thing.

Kaleb heard Gilda’s nervous gulp. She must have guessed the same.

“My.” Tomalak smiled knowingly. “Jochi’s youngest may not be the fool after all.”

Herger’s back stiffened. He didn’t turn, but it was clear by his tone who he meant his words for. “Aun was my father’s youngest. I would ask that you not forget him so soon.”

Cyrus, who had been sitting peacefully in the same spot since Kaleb had returned, rose to his feet and turned, tossing his tail and fixing his brother with a piecing glare. “Herger, you are still late with this news. I would know why.”

Orm nodded with a grunt of agreement. “Was it Pyrrhus that delayed you?”

Herger flushed and took an embarrassed step back. “Uh.”

Orm narrowed his eyes. “I knew it. Stopped to flirt with some chick on the way. Was it Herleif again?”

“What?” Herger feigned insult. “I would never-”

“Oh yes you would.” Gilda rolled her eyes, glancing to Orm. “My money’s on Sefa.”

“Gilda!” Herger did look a bit wounded by that particular suggestion. “You know I promised you I’d leave her alone.”

“Yeah, twice already.” She glowered at him. “It didn’t stop you before, dweeb. That’s why I’d put money on it.”

“No, not Sefa.” Kaleb sighed. “It was most likely Desma.”

It took a moment, but Herger’s defense melted into an embarrassed smile. “We only talked a few minutes. Honest.”

“Wait.” Gilda frowned. “I think I met her. Isn’t she Hierax?”

Orm gagged a hairball.

“As amusing as this embarrassment of Aquila honor might be,” Tomalak interjected happily, “it is a distraction from important matters.”

“Yes,” Cyrus agreed, addressing all the assembled griffins. “There has been a development.”

Tomalak donned a scowl. “Really? Just one?”

Cyrus frowned. “Only one that merits he calling of council, Tomalak, and I am sure that you,” he looked around the group, “that all of you are well aware of what has happened. I suspect you all learned of it as I did.”

Tomalak interrupted. “I had merely hoped that the news of the ponies mustering in Dappleshore or Ponyville would be of some interest to our fearless leader, or at least the destruction of bridges west of Cloudsdale. Alas, but let us do as he wishes.” He sat up, gesturing with exaggerated frustration. “Let us entertain this, his greatest concern, so that he may hasten to commit suicide by alicorn as he has desired for so long.”

Ingrid and Orm both rose to protest, but Tomalak silenced them with a raised clutch, instead squaring his shoulders to the other khan. “In all seriousness, Khan of Aquila, the cannon’s progress southward is the key to the siege of Canterlot. You overvalue the importance of a single pony, even an alicorn.”

The leader of the Valkyries glowered at him. “Twice this alicorn has kept the sun from rising, and you view her significance overrated?”

“Tried twice and failed,” he corrected. “Even with Celestia injured, so long as Harmony stands in her way she would be a fool to try it a third time. Our focus should be on destroying their only safe refuge in Equestria, and for that the cannon must advance to Canterlot.” Tomalak looked to Cyrus, mocking smile on his beak. “And I would think this a boon to you. Why do you worry, khan of destiny?”

“Because I do not trust Hippoi who bring me gifts,” Cyrus stated flatly. “Fate or not, I am not foolish enough to face an ageless evil without some idea of her motivation to be here. We all agreed, months ago, that she would return to hiding in Canterlot when we invaded, much like she hid during the first year of her return. She is still recovering, still regaining her power. Why does she strike out in the maw of war when she is not yet strong? These are my concerns. Ponies have already proven to be crafty opponents. I would not strike out against such a foe, when taking such unexpected actions, without some deliberation. That deliberation is the purpose of this gathering.

“Honored and civilized griffins of the Confederacy,” The khan continued. He gestured to Tomalak. “Honored khan of Zinthos.”

Tomalak twitched a quick nod in thanks.

“The Nightmare has come to Cloudsdale,” Cyrus said firmly. “Based on available information we examined prior to beginning this great crusade, this should not be so. Something is amiss, and I would know what. To that end, I open this council and grant all present both privilege and duty to contribute until this development can be explained or a course of action to reach such an end is resolved upon.”

Kaleb directed a surprise glance to Herger, who shrugged. Apparently this was not unusual practice when Cyrus called a council. Again Kaleb found himself silently regretting his decision to join the Immortals.

Tomalak sighed and looked away, bored.

Ingrid raised her beak at him. “What ails you, Khan Tomalak? Surely you are not so old that your bladder makes trouble.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Tomalak said with a wing stretch. “The sooner we finish, the sooner Khan Cyrus can be bothered to review other matters of importance.”

“But this is a matter of importance,” Kaleb found himself interjecting. If it was right and proper that he should speak at council, he would speak his mind. “Weak prey runs, sick prey hides. It does not turn and fight. If the Nightmare comes to Cloudsdale she is not cautious, not governed by fear. That should concern every griffin.” Several Aquila heads bobbed in agreement, but none so enthusiastically as Gilda’s.

Herger, sitting on the opposite side of their khan, winked at the Tshaka hunter with an eye that only the three of them could see. Kaleb scowled at him in angry reflex, regretting it instantly. Herger just smiled, a mischievous twinkle in the offending eye.

Kaleb crossed his forelimbs and looked away. Tengri char your feathers, Kaleb cursed him internally with a scowl.

If Tomalak was bothered by the outburst or caught the silent exchange going on before him, Kaleb would have missed it entirely. The Zinthos carried on in his attempts to besmirch the Aquila kahn. “Not if Khan Cyrus is true to his word,” he purred through a thin smile. “Not if he slays the ‘Nightmare,’ as promised.”

“It is in the stars,” Cyrus calmly replied. “It will be.”

“Pah!” Tomalak’s grin turned sour. “Always on about that. What carries water among the common griffin should not matter so much to a khan.”

Cyrus shook his head, disappointed. “Still you doubt the seers. A griffin should know better.”

“Not at all,” the Zinthos replied. “Fate is fate, Cyrus: that you rush to yours is as futile as any who flee from it. It is not wise. But since you have always sought to hasten fate and she is now so near, perhaps it is time to reconsider my original suggestion.” Tomalak tossed his tail, purring the last two words. “Many of my best agents are beyond this city, but my daughters should be able to get you close to the nightmare while she sleeps. You could be free from fate before sunrise, and then we might all view details of this campaign with proper deference and respect.”

“If Fate had wanted her slain by an assassin’s talon,” growled Cyrus with a tail twitch, “then he should not have selected a warrior for the task.”

“Or a son of Aquila,” added Ingrid, directing a stern glare at Tomalak.

Orm pounded the roof beneath him with a clenched clutch. “Here here!”

“I only offer, not insist.” Tomalak sly grin widened. He likely had already known the answer. “But if the idea so offends, it need not be mentioned again.”

“Well enough,” Cyrus said angrily. “For the answer would always be no. I will not assail my foe when she is unprepared. I will not steal a victory.

"But enough of this!” He mashed the rooftop with a clenched clutch. “The time of the Nightmare’s reckoning is at hand, yet she rushes out to her doom. I would know why. This is the topic of this council, not our prejudices. Observations, ideas, rumors, I want them all. This I demand as he who called this council and he who commands this invasion."

"Then you will finally kill her?" Tomalak asked with annoyed impatience.

"Yes," Cyrus agreed with a nod. "Finally."

---

On the upper deck of the Cloudsdale fliers’ stadium, the princess of the night sat alone. She looked out over the smoldering city, struggling to spot the remains of buildings and landmarks that would have been plainly visible to the eye just a day before. The fliers’ academy was easiest, being on the west side and upwind. The capitol building now bore the flags and banners of Pride Aquila and the greater Griffin Confederacy, but they did little to hide the scorch marks on its southern walls. The weather factory, in the northeast, was barely visible through the smoke.

Of course, she wasn’t really alone. Around the rim of the great building, unicorns and earth ponies of the 101st division stood a quiet vigil. Night guards flanked her at all times, now accompanying her in groups of four instead of the usual two, as dictated by tradition for wartime. She had briefly disagreed with Nova Drive over that detail, but her guard captain was well within her rights to insist on it given the events of the previous night. But there are many kinds of isolation, and not all are determined by distance.

Everywhere she looked, new affronts to peace and pony sovereignty filled her vision. Even the air she breathed, smelling of soot and ash, served as an inescapable reminder that she now stood in a despoiled and contested city. It got into her nose and lungs and tingled with a burning sensation.

She doubted the ponies around her could comprehend her growing rage, but that was a comfort. No penance or judgment could balance the scales for this affront, this sin. Griffins would die, she decided, not just by her leadership. She would end them herself, by hoof and horn, with one noteworthy griffin in particular.

By now he would know she had come, even if he hadn’t heard the princess announce herself. Good, she thought with a smile. Let the fool tremble.

‘Your Highness, I just received a disturbing report.’ The sending spell forced her out of her brooding mood, and probably for the best. She closed her eyes to focus.

‘Director, we are already aware-’

‘Am I to understand you announced your arrival in the royal voice to the entire city?’ came Petronel's near-panicked question. ‘I don’t…what could have possibly possessed you to take such an action?’

Luna blinked. ‘We came to bolster morale and sow fear in the enemies of ponykind. You were made aware of this before we departed, director.’

‘Princess, please,’ came the snapped reply. ‘This is nothing at all like what we discussed. You’ve painted a target on yourself and dared thousands of griffins to hunt for you, personally, and I know you’re not foal enough not to understand this.’

‘We are not concerned with the numbers of our foes,’ the princess shot back. ‘And what we do, we do for our little ponies. You should see the city, director. General Manifold did not exaggerate in his report.’

‘Your highness! I,’ the sending broke. Odd. Petronel’s sending were usually well composed and smooth, and never choppy. When he started again, though, his message was perhaps the most compact and organized she had yet seen from him.

‘While I would question your willingness to disregard an enemy’s numerical superiority, I’d like to remind you that many are armed with magic-cancelling tools that we do not yet even understand. You are allowing your actions to be dictated by your emotions after recent events. Please trust me, I understand. I understand so very, very well what seeing the city means to you, but announcing yourself in such a manner is bordering on pathologically suicidal. I must respectfully but forcefully advise that you return to Canterlot as soon as a reasonable public departure can be made.’

“Unacceptable!” Luna’s voice boomed in the Royal Voice in addition to being sent by magic. She heard soldiers and guards around her land after a startled jump. She ignored them. ‘We will not abandon our citizens on the field of battle, before this enemy or any other!’

‘Highness, must I beg you-’

‘No you will not!’ She stamped a hoof in a useless display of passion. He couldn’t see it. ‘The matter is settled, and we will not hear any more petitions for our return, from thee or any other pony. Consider the matter taboo. We will converse again after we speak with Manifold. Do not send to us until then. Good day, director.’

Luna ended the sending with a slight energy spike for emphasis on the last point, and with a huff put the matter out of mind. She opened her eyes.

The city hadn’t changed. Again she was offended by the sight of the griffins’ labors. She scowled and redoubled her silent brooding.

It would have continued if not for the sound of whispers on the breeze. She turned to see a one of her Night Guards conversing with an orange and yellow pegasus mare in a blue air corps uniform.

She needed a distraction, something else to think about. Standing to face the arrival, she buried her mood under her best royal smile. “We apologize for disturbing anypony. Is there any way the Princess of the Night may be of assistance?” The officer and night guard both bowed, and Luna bid them rise.

“Princess Luna,” the pegasi said as they both stood, and the orange officer assumed a stance of attention. With parade ground precision, the princess noted. “General Manifold has assembled his staff for the briefing you requested. The remainder should be arriving shortly. By your leave, I would escort you to him, your highness.”

Luna sighed in relief. Finally, work to do. “We would be most thankful to thee. Let us depart immediately.” They did, with the princess still being shadowed by her guard. The six of them made their way down the stairs.

Luna struggled with a feeling that she should recognize this pegasus, until a greeting from a passerby refreshed her memory. She grinned. “We must say we are surprised, commander. We would not have expected a pony of such esteem to be sent as a courier.”

Spitfire smiled right back. “I needed a walk. Besides, how else could I ever hope to chat with Princess Luna?” They chuckled.

“We must confess to have been interested in meeting thee as well. We have seen thy team perform in Canterlot and our guard captain, Nova Drive, speaks very highly of thee and thy Wonderbolts.”

“Really?” Spitfire’s smile dissolved into a flinch. “I guess that shouldn’t be much of a surprise. She’s that kind of a pony.” The pegasi hesitated before asking, “How is she?”

“Things were difficult for her for many months, but we believe she has finally recovered.” Luna reassured the commander. “She is a bit overzealous at times, but a natural leader. I could not have asked for a better suited pony for captain of my guard.”

“That’s something at least.” Spitfire nodded. “We’re short on everything up here, but maybe talented fliers most of all. Every pair of wings counts, and Nova is certainly no slouch.”

They laughed lightly together. It felt good, but soon Spitfire’s smile faded again. “Princess Luna, this might sound strange coming from me, but thank you for coming. You can’t know how much it’s meant to us here. I was running out of ways to keep ponies focused when you arrived.”

“We understand. Looking out at your wonderful city...” Luna struggled to describe it, but hit on an understanding. “It is like a war of old, but fought with modern convention and means. These griffins seem to pillage and destroy as they advance, with no regard for the future or the past. We struggle to think of something near its likeness even in our long memory. Were you in the city when…”

Spitfire’s ears drooped a bit. “Yeah.” When she saw Luna’s sympathetic gaze, she flushed. “Please, don’t worry about it princess. I’ve been so fortunate. All my family lives in the east end, and they’re being evacuated to Fillydelphia. They’ll be safe there as long as we can hold the griffins here.”

Luna felt her face harden. “We will do better than that, commander. Thou may take our word on it.”

The pegasi nodded. “It’s just…I’ve been blessed in that regard. My family is okay, and I know it. Others,” she hung her head. “Soarin’s situation might be the worst I’ve heard. His family lived on the north side. He hasn’t heard word of any of them.”

An area which was now a griffin stronghold, Luna realized. “You may tell him…” Luna paused. What could anypony say to that?

“Yeah,” Spitfire said with a nod. “I had the same problem.”

The princess’s nostrils flared. Soarin would not be alone in his grief. Most of the city would have friends and loved ones unaccounted for, and the rest would be in Spitfire’s position, trying to comfort those who were in that place. This, while all toiled to halt the invaders and eventually free Cloudsdale from the griffins. The princess’s mind drifted back to the previous night, seeing Celestia beaten near death, and though it cut her deeply it became the key to unlocking the riddle.

What would Celestia tell this pony?

“You may tell him,” she started again. “Tell him and those in his place that the light has yet to go out in Equestria. And that the Princess of the Night asks that he continue to uphold his duty so long as it persists.”

Spitfire stopped in the hallway, looking up at her princess, searching her face. “But princess, what is that light?”

A broad smile came unbidden to Luna’s lips. “Why, little pony, it’s that warmth you feel when you are there for Soarin. We may fight to protect the city, but it is not our purpose.” Luna reached out with a hoof to the pegasi’s should and smiled. “We fight for our friends, Spitfire, and for our friends’ friends. That is the real Cloudsdale, the real Equestria.”

Spitfire blinked away a tear. “Yeah. I think I can tell him that.”

They walked the rest of the way in a warm silence. Luna enjoyed it while she could. She knew from experience that the days ahead would offer little more in the way of easy moments.

---

“Orm,” Kaleb whispered to the veteran Immortal as the debate raged on before them. “You have been to council before. Do they often last this long?”

The Aquila grunted. “They last as long as he wishes, when our khan calls them. Once all through the daylight.” He stopped to consider. “Though now matters are more urgent. He pushes for conclusion.”

Kaleb nodded. “He will face the Nightbringer soon, and finally be rid of that curse.”

“Heh,” Orm whispered back. “Khan Cyrus with no prophesy to drive him, to guide his actions? I cannot imagine that.”

Kaleb didn’t have to imagine. He could remember, though it felt like long ago. A voice at the council snagged his attention.

“Perhaps Celestia suspects,” Gilda offered. “Maybe Luna was sent out with orders to defend the city, knowing you would rid Celestia of her rival.”

Tomalak tossed his head about slowly, playing with the idea. “It would be a convenient way to dispose of her kin, should she now expect eventual betrayal. Khan Cyrus, during your battle with the Sun Princess, could she have been testing your ability to do so?”

“No,” replied Cyrus, shaking his head after another moment’s consideration. “No, she held back nothing.”

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “I respect your abilities and trust your judgment, my khan, but are you certain of this?”

“There were words while we fought.” Cyrus said. He sighed. “And she acted with the fury of one fighting to defend family.”

“No,” Tomalak said, shock and frustration dripping from his words as he sat up. “You couldn’t have told her. Not even Pyrrhus would be so foolish.”

“There was no need.” Cyrus shrugged. “Apparently I am the image of Khan Nebakanezer, and by that or some other magic she guessed my greater purpose.”

While the other griffins sat shocked and baffled, Gilda blinked. “Uh. Who?”

“He is Khan Cyrus’s ancestor,” Ingrid told her, wide eyed and breathless at the use of the name. “It was he who joined Celestia during the first Nightmare War.”

“And to whom Celestia promised that the threat of eternal night was ended for all time,” Tomalak added, considering. “Most curious, and…slightly distressing.”

“Perhaps now you will take the prophesy of his stars more seriously, Khan Tomalak.” Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the Zinthos and gestured to Cyrus. “He is meant to slay the Nightmare. Even her sister now fears it.”

“What matters,” Cyrus cut in before they could argue, “is that if Celestia was well enough to raise the sun, she would have told her sister of my intentions. Her intent to protect her sister is evident to me. She would not have sent said family out to war without arming her with this knowledge. Which further begs the question, why would she come Cloudsdale, the center of our griffin forces?”

“You know, maybe we’re over thinking this.” Herger stretched. “With respect bro, you sorta put the hurt on her sibling. This could all just be about gettin' some payback.”

Everygriffin was silent for several long moments, different amounts of disgust and disagreement on most of their faces.

Herger looked around innocently. “It’s what I’d wanna do.”

Tomalak alone considered the idea. “There is some merit to that. On her return from the moon, she merely banished her sister rather than slaying her on the spot.” He nodded slowly. “Just because the Nightmare envies her sister’s throne is no reason for her not to still love her elder.”

“I suppose you might know something of that.” Ingrid allowed with a glare. “Did not the honored Zinthos Khan once have a pair of older brothers, and did not both die under mysterious circumstances?”

“In that alone, I admit to envy of Luna’s power,” he said wistfully. “To banish one’s rivals with magic would be far preferable to waiting for simple, mundane accidents to remove them.”

Gilda paled and voiced a thought. “If the Nightmare is on the move, could…could one of the elements have been killed?” She glanced around, wide eyed. “That would be really bad, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but very unlikely,” Ingrid put a supportive clutch on Gilda’s shoulder. “Celestia was right to keep the elements outside the capital while she kept her sister close to home. It is the reason Ponyville was avoided in the first strike planning. We can be reasonably certain they were spared any danger from our forces, as well as out of reach of the Nightmare during the confusion. But it was a good thought.”

“So…the bearers are safe.” Gilda sighed happily. “That’s good news, at least.”

“Indeed.” Tomalak scowled. “It may be the only detail we can be certain about in this matter, on account of the observation that the sun is still in the sky.”

“Now that we are engaged,” Kaleb wondered, “why would Celestia keep such valuable fighters hidden away? United, they defeated the Nightmare. Should we not be concerned some griffin may slay one in ignorance?”

Cyrus sighed. “This has been accounted for. The descriptions given by Gilda are being circulated amongst our forces on the ground, with specific orders not to kill the bearers. But this is not the matter before us.” He started to pace, his voice growing angry. “The Nightmare is here, now. Why? She should be hiding behind the Shieldbearer in Canterlot. What is her motive for being out here? What does she stand to gain by putting herself within my reach?”

“Somewhere, there is a pony who does not know of seers and their prophesies,” Tomalak mused in sarcastic frustration. “And that pony views your actions with equal befuddlement. This is a pointless exercise. We have no way to know what is in a pony’s mind across the battle lines. She is here! Go out and kill her already, and save us the trouble of untangling this yarn.”

“Ugh, this is so hard.” Gilda slouched with a huff. “It’d be sooo much easier to figure this out if we could just ask, or even just talk with her.”

Cyrus brightened, scratching his lower beak. “Hm. Perhaps.” Tomalak and Ingrid exchanged a glance and a nod, some unseen agreement passing between them.

Tomalak rose and turned to leave. “Send Kaleb to me with the details, once you have them,” he said, just before taking flight. “I wish to be present as an observer, if nothing else.”

“Your insight would be appreciated, just as it was here, Khan Tomalak.” Cyrus nodded to the departing Zinthos. “Pride Aquila again thanks you.”

Tomalak smiled his empty smile, and was gone.

“Perhaps what?” Orm blinked at his khan. “I don’t understand. What was decided?”

“The meeting was a formality, friend Orm. Ingrid and I have already spoken on this matter in private, while you were each on your errands.”

“Then why call the other khans?” Kaleb asked. He was just as confused as Orm. “Why not simply act?”

Cyrus leaned over his blood brother and smiled. “Because, Kaleb, it was important that Tomalak see how we came to our conclusion.” He turned his smile to Gilda. “And this meeting served as a test for our private judgment. I wanted to see if together, you would produce the same conclusion. Thanks to Gilda, it did.”

Gilda flushed and looked away from her cousins, then up at Ingrid. “I have a good teacher.”

Orm sat. “I still do not know what was decided.”

Cyrus turned round to Herger, and gestured that he should speak. Herger sighed and spoke with clear reluctance. “He’s gonna try to get the pony to talk with him, but I can't imagine how.”

“Wait.” Kaleb still struggled to understand the nature of the meeting. “You had already chosen a course of action. This council was a farce.” His stomach turned over. “A deception.”

“A show, but not a farce.” Ingrid said. “If the thinking had gone in another direction, we would have had new things to consider. It did not.”

“And Kaleb,” Cyrus continued, “politics is all about the show, controlling what others see. That doesn’t make the show untrue. Besides,” he added, “you visited Tomalak’s encampment. Do you really think that in whatever you saw there, it was any less than a display planned for your benefit?”

Kaleb considered a moment, rethinking his encounter with Tomalak’s daughters. It explained a great deal.

“Pah.” Orm spat on the roof. “I don’t care for these games. Nothing is as it seems.

Cyrus put a clutch on his brother’s shoulders and shook him gently and with pride. “In any case, Herger is right. I do mean to speak with the Nightmare. And that brings us another very important matter. Orm! Go below and fetch me Grima. I will have words with him.” Orm darted through the gaping maw of a hole in the rooftop, happy to have a simple order to follow. Ingrid and Gilda said their goodbyes and departed to join the rest of the Valkyries.

Orm returned a few minutes later with a livid chief interrogator trailing behind him. Grima wasted no time on pleasantries. “My khan, I must object!” Grima said with an impertinently quick bow, “I informed your courier about our latest progress with the pegasi devices, but he insisted on dragging me here anyway. These repeated interruptions will only cause further delay, and with the revised timeta-”

“Quiet,” Cyrus interrupted. There was a sharpness to his tone, but he did not portray anger. “This is about something else. Sit.”

Grima looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better of it. He swallowed and sat. Cyrus let the silence drag between them. Grima’s eyes darted about as his nervousness grew.

“You disobeyed my order,” Cyrus declared.

The interrogator flinched. “How, my khan?” He bowed low. “The factory below us is warming up for production even now.”

“Yes, and for this I thank you on behalf of the entire confederacy. However, my orders were to separate those ponies who had technical or military expertise for interrogation. This you have done.” Cyrus’s face darkened. “It was also my order to treat all other captives with care and respect. You have done the opposite.”

“That is sadly the nature of ponies, my khan. They respond slowly to…personal attention.” Grima donned a wicked smile. “But to injure another pony in front of them, where they can see and hear…”

Cyrus took two steps closer to Grima, towering over the Aquila interrogator. “That is my meaning, and more! I have received reports you are injuring ponies for sport. You take a perverse pleasure in causing suffering. It offends me and tarnishes Aquila honor. It will not continue. Interrogate ponies with knowledge of the city’s workings. Others are not to be molested.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes. “Is this clear?”

Grima cowered, but still stewed with rage. “Yes.”

“If I inspect the cells tomorrow, will I find this order being carried out to the letter?”

Now Grima ground his beak. “Yes, my khan.”

“Good.” Cyrus turned from the chief interrogator to the rest of his retinue. “Orm, Herger. Go with Grima to the holding cells. See to the care of the ponies there, and prepare mares and foals with no knowledge of the city’s working to be moved.”

“No, my khan, you can’t!” Grima stood again, glaring up at the khan. “You father appointed me chief interrogator, and I ref-”

Without looking or turning, Cyrus slowly reached back with a massive clutch and rested his open talons on Grima’s head, his talons long enough to grasp the smaller griffin’s skull almost down to his jaw on both sides. It was a little motion, performed casually and with no added menace or performance, but with that simple hold Cyrus could have ended the smaller griffin without effort. Grima knew it. The words died in his mouth and his eyes went wide with fear. The coward even trembled.

Orm and Herger exchanged a small glance of approval.

Cyrus continued to address his brother and friend. “Time is of the essence. I’m sure the chief interrogator would happily provide any documentation he has produced to speed up the selection.”

“U-u-of course,” Grima stammered.

“Good. See it done.” Cyrus released him and the three made ready to depart.

Kaleb rose. “What of me, my khan?”

Cyrus put a clutch on the Tshaka’s shoulder. “Blood-brother and friend. You will go with them, but your task is separate. You will choose for me one pegasus of strong will, and bring him to me personally.” Cyrus explained what he had in mind.

Kaleb nodded with a smile. “I think I know the pony for the job.”

Comments

[HeartlessNeoshadow]

"I think I know the pony for the job."

My god, the implication behind this statement is beautifully pulled off. Other than that, all the same compliments as before!

[Olden Bronie]

What a great day....season 4 premier and the latest chapter in your fimfic: Awesome!!

I'm really enjoying insight into how all the charters are thinking and feeling. This makes it so much deeper than just a history....it is about how those feelings shape not just the character but the story within the events. You are telling a tragic tale in such a meaningful way. I'm starting to get the feeling that Kaleb, although loyal to his khan, is starting to see that all is not right. I also admire you showing Luna's loyalty and her love for others.....she is always made to seem so dark and uncaring and I've always seen her as just the opposite.

Thanks for the update. As always, well worth the wait!

[NotSoSubtle]

It's that time again. Catch up time!

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That chapter was lots of fun to write. While Twilight is an intelligent and fast learning pony, she’s started this story with about as much understanding of war as Rainbow Dash has of fashion. Her perspective can and will change radically with new experiences and understandings, and I wanted to do my best at helping the reader appreciate those changes. As traumatic as this might have been, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to suggest she has a lot more to learn.

He he he.

I’d like to clarify, however, that her issues with Petronel are far from resolved. Understanding his motive is not the same as agreeing with his methods. More than that you’ll just have to read it when it’s posted.

3359142

Huzzah! I’ve spent a lot of time on those things, especially the OC’s. Glad to hear you’ve enjoyed them.

Wars are hardly ever clean black and white, and even when they are that doesn't account for the human value of those involved. Because history is written from the perspective of the victors, it’s easy for people to miss that. Even when there is a clear contrast in the morality of the opposing powers, the rank-and-file of both sides are convinced that they’re the good guys.

The mistake that a lot of people make, especially writers, is that once they understand the moral fog in wartime they jump to the conclusion that there are (and can be) no good guys. Stupid, overdone ‘Nam movies. It’s something that I not only reject, but want to do my best to push back against.

Enter FiM, a show about friendship and learning how to draw strength from our differences. What better way to go about showing the goodness on both sides of a conflict than by showing how they interact with friends?

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Glad you’re enjoying it! And don’t worry, more is already on the way. If only things would stop breaking around the farm…

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This. So much of this. Your feelz…It’s like crack! Moar!

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I wish I could say that the day of the upload was all part of the plan, but it wasn’t. Life just worked out that way, with the chapter ready to go just a few days before the new season. Truth be told, I’d have much rather have had the next chapter ready to go then, but oh well. Nothing to do now but keep makin’ with the words.

As for the perspectives, absolutely. Most fiction is told in 3rd person omniscient, but for me that really only amounts to a string of facts. It’s the difference between seeing why someone might to a thing, and confronting the situations yourself and wondering if you’d do the same, good or bad.

Luna’s a great example. Sure, it made sense to me that she’d do the things she’s done thus far, given those stimuli, yet from a distance a reader might have the same view on it as the Director. It’s not smart, but she’s not running on just thinking. She’s all tied up on her emotions with the things she’s seen in the last few days.

And you know, they did break in her house, set it on fire, beat up her sister to near death, and kill her friends and subjects. It’s hard to imagine the person who’d be unaffected by those circumstances.

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ViM is in an interesting place on FimFiction right now. It has a growing readership from exposure on EqD two chapters ago, but this weekend (to my continued surprise) squeaked on to the FimFic feature page. As a result I guess a lot of the readership right now are EqD followers that don’t currently have a FimFic account. Kinda limits the number of comments. Judging by the viewcount, though, people are enjoying it, and that's fine by me.

As for Twilight, that’s the limited PoV coming into play. When she says it’s impossible to drain magic, it is: at least, according to what she knew at the time. The show is full of Twilight revising her conceptions and understandings. This will likely just be another revision as she learns more about the world of magic.

[Starlight Nova]

“Blood-brother and friend. You will go with them, but your task is separate. You will choose for me one pegasus of strong will, and bring him to me personally.” Cyrus explained what he had in mind.

Kaleb nodded with a smile. “I think I know the pony for the job.”

He's talking about Rainbow Dash, isn't he.

[LurkyMcLurkerson]

You know, eventually Dash is going to find out that Gilda provided all this intel the the Prides, and there is going to be a reckoning...