Few are those creatures that have, throughout the span of their history, been through that many a tumult. There was not for them the continuous stability and perennial continuation of leadership that was taken for granted in Equestria; nor did they enjoy the quasi-unquestioned authority of a queen like the Changelings, nor do they possess an artifact that would unite them like for the Dragons. No – for the Griffons, strife had always been a part unmovable of their collective character. They, once, had an artifact to call their own but it was forever lost. Prior to the loss, a kingdom surrounding Griffonstone had existed – or still does, but merely a kingdom without a king. For a time, for a long time, that artifact gifted to them and given the name of its donor, the Icon of Boreas, was what had kept the species united.
There was purpose back then. There was a sense of a collective vision that had eluded them O so many times before. For a while, they stood in front of a bright future. For a while, they were indomitable. And for a while, they had tasted success and greatness.
The lingering threat of mortality and the lack of great magical abilities have always defined the Griffon psyche. They always saw themselves as surrounded, ripe for the picking by any with the will to subjugate them. Many tried, and many equally failed to put down the Griffon spirit. They used cunning and great reflexes to dissuade and intimidate rivals. Their tactics are unrivalled; immaculate when paired with the fierceness they put on display. The Griffon knight was reputed for being relentless and an impossibly efficient warrior. Few remain standing when faced by the continuously advancing or stubbornly resilient defenses of a phalanx of those implacable warriors.
When the Icon was still in possession of the race, entire armies of knights could be amassed. Though conquest was not in the shifting kings’ minds. Profit through trade was the agreed-upon manner to keep the Griffon Kingdom united and the species safe.
Trade, however, did not flow through Griffonstone as many would envisage. Instead, a series of autonomous outposts, officially acting independently from the crown and outside its jurisdiction, would divert their earnings to the capital through a series of intermediaries. In turn, creating the first multinational banks of the world and, simultaneously, the trading practices that put Celestia in many a predicament.
The succeeding kings and queens were in full knowledge of their traders' practices. They knew how to deal with their whims and knew how to counter the plethora of financial and accounting irregularities their bookkeepers would point out. They gradually formed different institutions to keep in line the traders to Griffonstone’s will. They had formed the institutions that kept in their books the wealth of thousands.
The Griffons, the monarchs would state when discoursing to their people, built an impregnable civilization in the face of considerable challenges many would have balked at. They conquered the elements to make themselves a position in the world. They carved themselves a place envied even by the hegemonic Equestria. They, the Griffons, were rich, prosperous, thriving, and ascending.
However, it all had to come to an end. The Icon was stolen. Civil strife followed. The loss of Griffon enterprises to opportunistic Equestrians. The kingdom lost its kings. The species lost its purpose. Bitterness took hold. And Griffonstone was left to rot under the Sun.
They referred to the period of chaos as the “Collapse of Bronze and Gold”.
****
Cadance stepped down from the train, the only reliable mode of transport to fallen Griffonstone, though incredibly expensive for common use.
She looked up to Griffonstone with an exasperated and prematurely tired expression.
‘“Why do you Ponies siphon every bit of wealth from us?”,’ she mumbled. Cadance pulled down the brown hood. An old cloak she wore; not fitting garment for a Princess, but it was the only piece of cloth that kept her reliably warm. An old thing she had taken from her parents; it was noticeably shorter on her but possessed better isolation than any she bought afterward. ‘Having to force three-fourths of the world walkingup to end up kissing your asses maybe – just a hunch – made you fall into precarity. Not a stupid relic.’
‘Dear,’ Shining Armor joined her outside, wearing a fancier cloak on top of his armor, ‘I don’t think we are one to talk about relying on relics.’
‘Well, fuck you,’ she countered. ‘And don’t contradict me.’
He examined the path stretching in his field of vision. The coming grey sky, heralded by the pocked clouds above, would not help her mood.
‘I don’t see what you are complaining about.’ He smiled. ‘I am the one that will need to walk; you can fly.’
She snorted in further exasperation and walked forward, not waiting for him to join her.
‘Just say you don’t like Griffons,’ he said, running toward Cadance.
‘I don’t dislike them; it is Griffonstone I hate.’ She smirked. ‘I guess that will help finalize the trade deal.’
Griffons and the Crystal Empire had since ancient times a storied history. Many were the Griffons that came to the Land of Crystal to study or provide assistance for architectural or scientific purposes – in exchange for a commission, of course. It was said that they were the ones that helped forge the Crystal Heart. However, as with many things concerning the Empire’s past, nothing is certain. The Crystal Library and all vestiges of the Empire’s past had been burned or desecrated by Sombra utterly. Previous rulers had made it a policy to keep their people partially isolated from the world, and it came with a complete ban on knowledge sharing outside the halls of the Library or Palace. That engendered a sort of unofficial embargo of knowledge between Equestria and the Empire, a void the Griffons exploited well to challenge the Sisters as an ally. And a tradition of knowledge-gathering, though clearly one-sided in the past, the Empire, in turn, had kept.
Some posited the fall of the Empire was the catalyst for the Griffons’ fall. Possibly could have been, but Cadance did not really care for the speculations of scholars. Getting the Griffons out of their current situation was important to her. Not only to honor her nation’s traditions or the clear benefits it would bring for both sides but for the simple and innocent fact that it was the nice thing to do. The kind thing. Ulterior motives were clear to behold that even a child could decipher them; the transparent wish to see a people back to a sense of comfortable existence was paramount to her. No matter what. No matter the opinions of others.
They reached the start of the road meandering the mountain. It was barren with little to no accommodation or decoration that would make a creature think it was the way to a city of hundreds of souls. On the side open to the ravine, ruins made of the same stone as their surroundings and the bright white of Zebrican limestone could be observed. Statues stood unrecognizable, but enough to make Cadance and Armor turn their eyes to not embarrass a not-present company. On the side that clanged the road to its mountain, small shrines ornate with immovable small statues ravaged by erosion and ugly moisture.
‘And try to propose revamping their infrastructure,’ posited Armor.
‘At our expense. I heard the view and landscape are stunning. And with the Griffons as a close ally, the project will repay itself quite neatly.’
‘You’ve planned for it?’
‘Of course, I did!’ she boasted. ‘Also, we have a lot of crystals – surprisingly – and they like them. So… It will be fantastically awesome.’
He smiled and moved to her side. She did not want to come with her guards so as to not intimidate the Griffons; Shining Armor only came and was enough for her to feel safe.
The mist came down on top of them. Shy enough to not deter their advance and for either of them to use their magic.
‘The fog is bringing up bad memories,’ mumbled Shining Armor, thinking she did not understand him.
Cadance agreed but did not take the bait. She kissed him on the cheek and made them continue silently.
‘Is keeping Flurry in the care of Twilight that worries you?’
‘With Twilight? No. But that other one with her, yes.’
‘Twilight and her friends are present. Plus Celestia and Luna are not far.’
‘Hm. Relying on those two.’
It was difficult for Cadance to accept it, but she could no longer rely on the Sisters and the others for sole protection. The Storm King’s attack dented the complete trust she had in any of them. She was told by Griffon envoys of the King’s rampages, yet a festival imported Celestia the most. Luna had not been better, but then again, when was she useful in day-to-day governing? Too hell-bent on her nightly task to ever be of use in those kinds of decisions. She, Cadance, had taken Celestia’s words that these were simple exaggerations. Lest to say, something had shattered. She had to keep a balance once more. One that paralleled the ever-constant one between her private and public life.
‘They need to only care about their Sun and Moon rather than bothering us,’ she mumbled.
‘What?’ He leaned in closer.
‘Nothing. Just the usual.’
‘Ah… Then I recommend you keep quiet in front of the Griffons.’ He nudged her.
Cadance smiled. ‘When we finish, before regaining Equestria and the Empire, let us enjoy the view. It has been a long time…’
‘Everything for my Princess.’ He grabbed Cadance by the back and made her lose her balance just enough for her not to fall.
She easily regained focus and went for her revenge, but as usual, she missed her chance; Armor liked to mess with her by waiting for the last second to move.
They continued their walk quietly cursing each other until they reached the old gate.
As they came closer to the capital, the couple was little surprised by the precarity of the display. It was… exactly as they sought it might look like. Griffonstone did not impress them much beyond that.
The ruins of the old palace and library stick prominently from the patchwork of debilitated houses peering in the distance. Some were made of simple stones taken from the mountainside, stuck to each other by cheap cement. Others lived in the vestiges of the great city that was – perhaps passed down from generation to generation or stolen in a feud. And others still, perhaps the most fortunate of the poor, had houses built of carved stones with the seeming addition of a small garden, which was solely used for food farming. A Griffon diet is, unlike most, not restrained to only vegetables and fruits but could diversify to more… common sources of nutrition. Ones they, the Ponies, could not consume.
In the aftermath of the old dynasty’s fall, an ad hoc formation of noble and prominent gents was established until – as they stated – a new, worthy successor would be chosen or a better alternative would be proposed. Of course, alternatives had flooded the Regency Council in its first years; from an eternal election between nobles to head the species like olden times, or, the more outlandish outlook, of letting the people decide their ruler, a public thing yet unseen. Either proposition was turned down. And when a third proposal to join Equestria had been put forward, not only was it vehemently turned down, the group of griff was declared as “perpetual exiles”.
‘Clearly,’ began Armor, ‘we are not here in Twilight’s stead.’
‘You seem more awake today. That is rare.’
‘And you, rancid candy, are more dislikeable than a cup of cold coffee.’
‘It would have not been the case if you had drunk it!’
‘Not my fault if you are- were,’ he leaned closer, ‘a pleasant mare to talk with.’
She kissed him on the cheek. ‘You were good too.’ She leered. ‘A shame it wasn’t lost.’
He returned the kiss in kind.
Cadance and Shining Armor moved into Griffonstone. The incessant rumble of the crowd and the howls of dashing Griffons. She kept her head hidden from them. She felt insecure all of the sudden, but continued to walk; the Griffons might take it badly. Armor had mimicked her; he entered, facing down.
They would not care, she hoped. Nobody would truly care if a Princess had entered the vicinity of their home. They would know, of course, she was coming, but nothing more ostensible than the collective agreement that it did not matter.
Nobody had spoken to them. The shouts of mothers and fathers yelling at their children were barely heard above the tumult of the crowd. She heard louder and louder shouts. Cadance had a bad time with accents; understanding whether what she heard were those of merchants or the few still in service order-enforcement officers was hard to discern. Armor fared little better but did not give up helping Cadance understand what they were saying.
She then overheard someone calling her by her title. Then another. And another. Yet no one was stopping her.
They all stood aside, yielding a free passage for Cadance in the middle. The couple paused for a second, unsure how to interpret the display. She took off her hood and resumed her walk with an assured step; letting Armor trail behind her. It was then that an accent-free, weary voice came directly in front of the couple.
‘Princess Cadance.’ She bowed. ‘It is an honor.’
Cadance raised her head, Armor with her. Silence fell, with the few rebel voices still waiting to be quelled. She stifled the urge to look around, instead concentrating her efforts to remove the hood. The Griff raised a claw to help Cadance but was too late in her move.
Her ears felt the cold mountain air for the first time, and she could not help but slightly wince at the annoyance.
‘Gilda, right?’ The Griff nodded. ‘I was told of you. Good words from a certain someone.’
Gilda smiled. ‘She could not come, eh?’
‘I did not tell her. She did not need to know.’
Gilda smiled. ‘I like you already, Princess.’ Her smile quickly deflated. ‘Follow me to the old palace, please.’
****
The two Griffs took the couple into the old conference room of the palace. A circular room lined with arches. Some sported tainted, decorative windows. The invading nature gave the room a scenic look. Whether it was on accident or on purpose, Armor liked it; Cadance less.
Gilda sat down in the table’s middle perimeter; Greta stood behind her. Around the stone table, sat the gathered members of the Regency Council. Cadance counted twenty-six chairs, with twenty-four full, three members were standing, and one was keeping himself aside in isolation of the rest. She came close to ask if it they were nobility or not; neither wore the expected garments nor displayed themselves in contrast with their subjects.
‘Gruff should have been here, but…’ Gilda twirled with her claw in a way to find a proper excuse for his absence.
‘Because he does not care,’ posited Lady Carine, wife of the head of the town of Naniwish, in unhidden frustration.
‘Lord Thoros is not present either – no?’ passive-aggressively asked Yerkati Hank – the owner of one of the few still extant trading caravans to the isolated Sisia.
‘Go eat shit.’ She stayed passively seated.
Many more insults followed directed at him, directly preceded by more hurled toward Carine. She had explained and mentioned her husband’s bad case of food poisoning and, apparently, to no avail.
‘Cut it!’ boomed the voice of Murkbeak, Lord of the Hollow Forest, shushing them all. ‘Do not embarrass yourself more than usual. Sigismund?’ Murkbeak turned to the only creature – bare the Princess, of course – that could quiet them. The knight approached, showing clearly a patchwork of an armor, partially polished and sporting more cloth than actual metal. However, the Griffon behind it retained his pride and a solemn and humble expression.
In the wake of the kingdom’s collapse, the last groups of knights that had served the old monarchs declared themselves neutral in any subsequent power struggle. Under the impulses of former Chapter Master Kante, a sense of stability and safety was returned to the chaos-ridden streets. Though successful, it did not prevent him from meeting his unfortunate end on the edges of a well-placed balcony. It was reported that his armor was heavier than usual that day. At any rate, it did not prevent the knights from upholding his teachings and act, in turn, as the eternal mediators.
Sigismund took his sword halfway through its scabbard, showing its glimmering metal and sharp edges. Shining Armor mused to Cadance that it resembles his own, but she dismissed his observation.
Silence truly returned then. Order was effectively restored.
Cadance moved forward, showing a display of confidence that would make even the proudest Griffon shiver. Then she had to speak, and the illusion was immediately broken.
‘Excuse me if I am impolite with the question…’
Gilda looked at her pleasantly. ‘Ask. It is not like it can get worse.’
‘I was expecting to have a more,’ she made circles with her hooves, ‘chaotic greetings.’ She hesitated. ‘Everything’s well?’
‘We…’ Greta trailed off. ‘We did not expect you to show up. That is all.’
And you smelled profit.‘You are lying.’ The bluntness stunned them. They all adjusted their postures. ‘Let me rephrase it: you are half lying. You are hiding something. Is it dangerous?’
Gilda hesitated. She scratched the back of her neck with a claw and took the papers detailing the trade deal with the other, taking her time to read it aloud.
‘Are you alright, Gilda?’ She started to feel stress bubbling up. ‘A…’
She did not answer; they all retreated behind their stubbornness.
‘Gilda…’ Cadance moved closer, keeping a smile up. ‘Are you fine?’
‘I… We… saw a thing… Things…’
‘What things? How many of you?’
‘Me and three others…’ She pointed towards Lady Pretzel of Gryphon, Lord Aquiline of Griffin, and that idiot Prince Nightplume of Grizon, who was only there because his parents and five siblings were too busy working on the farm to join the discussions. It was parsnip season, and would very much like to make a small profit by selling the harvest to the Equestrian prince Ball Brick. ‘And others in the public…We all remember a green light.’
‘Changelings,’ quickly posited Cadance, hating herself for the haste.
‘It would explain the red marks,’ shyly remarked Carine.
‘What red marks?’ She did not wait for Gilda to let her inspect her neck. In fact, she did not wait for the permission of anyone to do so. Sigismund was permitting it, better not anger the knights
Cadance pulled out the feathers, revealing four equidistant wounds, with a fifth in direction of their heads.
‘Not Changelings,’ said Cadance calmly. ‘Trust me from experience. I had nearly everything drained when Chrysalis attacked…’
‘Do you remember a green light?’
‘No. I remember screaming with no one hearing, though.’ She failed to make it sound like a simple anecdote.
‘Close. You must be like the others… Some don’t remember a thing.’
‘The dealings are on pause until further notice,’ she declared. ‘They are not canceled. I do intend to see it through. If you let me, I will aid you in uncovering the culprits.’
Greta announced the proposal to the Council; a vote followed with the majority agreeing on the rescheduling.
The ever-silent Sigismund nodded. Complaints were levied but fell on deaf ears.
The meeting was adjourned, and Cadance requested some alone time with Armor. The Chapter Master refused and stated in a cold, emotionless voice.
‘This is not your kingdom, Princess.’
Armor objected and positioned himself to put out a spell.
The sword unravelled, Sigismund pounced on the Equestrian prince, placarding him down on the floor with a claw threatening his vision at any brisk movement. The other knights in the room had moved to surround the royal couple, their weapons unsheathed.
‘Old ties will be restored,’ declared Sigismund, ‘but do not overstate your welcome.’ He looked lengthily into Cadance’s eyes, analyzing her emotions to the very finite details. He discerned rage, barely contained, slightly escaping from widened eyes. ‘We,’ he raised his voice, releasing Armor in the process, helping him to get up, ‘will leave you two alone. A gift as an apology to the Prince and the council’s members’ attitude.’
Cadance made one step forward. ‘Thank you, Chapter Master.’
He nodded, then asked if they would like to be escorted toward their chambers. They accepted.
****
Cadance took back the cloak from Armor, immediately wearing it after they were left on their own. She sat on the relatively well-furnished bed and tucked her cloak close to her.
Armor joined her.
‘They are here…’ he began, scratching where Sigismund’s claw had pinned him.
‘Don’t panic. They will not harm us.’
‘What if they take you or me to their collection? I don’t want any of us to spend eternity there.’
She gazed at him for a whole minute, taking in all his features and carving in her memory. She sighed and then turned toward the opened balcony overlooking a narrow, lush valley. In the distance, the eternal snow could be observed still. Groups of Griffons were flying around in the traitorous winds. Large and small groups played around to test their skills. There was laughter heard from them. Cadance could not help but smile with them.
‘It is beautiful, no?’ She leaned her head on him.
‘Yes.’ Armor paused. ‘Teleport us.’
She frowned. ‘Why bother?’
He distanced himself in a singular push. ‘Flurry-’
‘What is the point, Armor?!’ she nearly ordered, almost forgetting he was her husband. ‘They will be able to follow us. Let the danger remain here, contained. Worst case scenario, we still have the markers, in case we leave the world or… this existence.’
‘Plus,’ continued Cadance, ‘why would they be interested in us? Nobody ever did.’ She laughed awkwardly. ‘Even Sombra did not care for us back then.’
‘The natural parents of an Alicorn.’
She grunted. ‘Why now, then?’ She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘If we act, it may spur them just out of the joy of messing with “the lower races”. They had almost four years to separate us.’
‘We should have taken her with us.’
‘… Yes,’ she said, defeated.
Cadance sighed in earnest exhaustion.
‘I…’ she shook her head. ‘I should go reassuring the Griffs. At least try.’
‘If you don’t feel like it…’
‘Someone has to. I’ve never “felt like it”, anyways.’
He did not object nor added to her sentiment; it rarely worked.
Cadance then exited the room with controlled haste, Shining Armor trailing behind her.
She spoke with Griffons. She spoke to families and reassured them everything will be alright, that they should fear nothing from that mysterious force.
She was lying, of course. Lying with ease to keep a populace calm was something she had made herself an expert at.
Shining Armor did not say a thing. He stood beside her, using all his discipline and years of gathered curses to keep himself stoic. He was… He was quickly asked to not remain long and rest in the chamber they were given. Armor was Twilight’s brother, after all – the explanations flow on their own.
It was dusk when she returned. Gilda and Greta had invited her to attend a festival celebrating the start of fall and the beginning of the harvest season. She declined, recommending they send them an invite for next year’s.
The couple enjoyed their rare alone time. They reclined their head on each other’s, talking about whatever came to mind, observing the distant, mountainous horizon.
They heard cheers.
Cadance closed her eyes; Armor followed.
They then heard distant chimes; then music; then shy knocks.
Armor was there, profoundly sleeping. Staggering at opening her eyes, Cadance saw scars marking his armor, but nothing that would indicate a great struggle. At least, he wasn’t injured. Though she wished he wasn’t drooling and, most importantly, she had something to clean it with.
She heard rattling and the shuffling of paper. The green light first made her heart stop, but the sound of metal calmed her down inexplicably.
She waited for her vision to clear. She checked the back of her neck. There was nothing, no wounds, and no gnawing pain.
Cadance smiled, suddenly fully relieved, and addressed Trazyn the Infinite.
‘Ah! I was complaining that you two would forget about me!’
He did not bother replying, too busy examining a book he had assuredly stolen – nor did he bother constraining her as they had done to Celestia and Starlight, she noticed with her free arms wiggling about. Trazyn was alone, however, with only two lychguards acting as a company, standing on standby at the only exit; that pulse described was not present. Blackstone was influencing her magic. Though escape was clearly not an option she possessed. Nothing new to her, really. She took her time to admire those… Necrons. Their posture was impressive, and the bizarre serenity they brought to the room was half-comforting.
Chrysalis had the same glow, she mused.
Luna and Celestia told her of Necron history – at least as much it had been given to Celestia in that first encounter twenty-five years prior. Trazyn, under the constant interruptions of an annoyed Orikan, had insisted on the sun that had seen the birth of the ancient Necrontyr was the cause of their unfortunate future; the cause of the War in Heaven (which he had resumed in two throwaway phrases); the rise of the Star Gods, their fall, and their shattering; the mysterious figure that was the Last of the Silent Kings; and millions of years long sleep. She was told of the birth of races specifically tailored to fight against the Necrons, but the details were left unuttered.
Luna, more than Celestia, had been the one conveying those stories over many sessions. All the while, she and Cadance came to the same agreement that something was enticing – cool, Cadance had said – about those Necrons. And for some bizarre reason, they both had the urge to paint after every telling.
‘It is an honor, Overlord Trazyn the Infinite.’
He showed the palm of his hand in a silent greeting.
Cadance grumbled, offended by his attitude. ‘Have you talked to Luna? Twilight? I am sure they were better guests.’ She made sure to not make it sound sarcastic.
‘No,’ he cackled, catching his interest. ‘I do not exactly appreciate them. One is too depressing and annoying; the other speaks too much and cannot harness proper decorum. Which is which will depend.’ Cadance quietly snorted in amusement. Of course, Trazyn picked it off and smiled internally. ‘Additionally, they lack that charm you and the other mongrel have.’
‘Thank you… I guess. And my husband-’
‘A firebrand that exasperated me.’
Debating was useless; she knew it to be true. Sighing to calm herself further was the best strategy at her disposal.
‘Have you talked to the elements of harmony in some more elaborate fashion?’
He laughed profusely and waved the question away.
‘I find your Empire’s history quite interesting,’ said Trazyn, finally gazing at her. ‘Particularly the last decade of it. And like so, I come to the main body of your presence.’
‘Do tell, do tell – it is not like I can object.’
‘A willing participant!’ gleefullyexclaimed Trazyn. ‘Those are rare,’ he laughed. ‘At any rate – why “empire”?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You are not an empress. You are not “Empress Cadance”. Why is that? An empire should not be the puppet of another power.’
‘I know.’
‘Thinking of elevating your standing? Or give it to your child?’
‘When she will grow up, I will start thinking about it with her, my husband, and,’ she made circles with her hoof, ‘the others.’
‘You will have two-’ He stopped to examine the readings of the medical device he haphazardly built with Orikan.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Vestiges of a recent birthing process? Or is it accumulated fat?’ He slapped the device, and then threw it on the ground, shattering it. The broken remains were then rapidly cleaned by a previously unseen scarab. ‘Your psychana must have been troubling the device. But we are getting away from the topic,’ he asserted. She raised an eyebrow but nothing more. He was simply rude. ‘Princess is not a sufficient title, by all means. Demote the Crystal Empire to the “Crystal Principality” and save yourself the headache.’
‘Or that, yes.’
He crooked his head. ‘You don’t really care, do you?’ She shook her head. Trazyn sighed as he blocked a vox-message from Orikan, urging him to come back to their ship with the ignition codes.
‘That’s it?’ innocently asked Cadance. ‘No more questions?’
‘Not, really. I took my time, but all relevant information has been taken and processed in only a few months – your months to be precise. While fascinating for its few interesting artifacts, it is a painfully generic world. Though its biological diversity intrigues me. I will need to study on my own to understand the reason for such diversity. It is very rare to see such coexistence. Though one individual stood out the most for me,’ he cackled. ‘Glitterhoof.’
‘Ah!’ exclaimed Cadance, not able to help herself. ‘The one and unique! The greatest creature to have ever lived!’
‘The manner of his rise to power is intriguing and equally amusing.’ She nodded. ‘I had hoped for something similar for those mighty Griffons.’
‘Have you interrogated a griff in your stay in our world?’
‘Why yes. And she wasn’t very amicable. Few were, really. Then again, apart from you, I haven't meant any truly amicable Unclean. You lie like your mentor, but at least, you are not geriatric.’
‘I am flattered… I-I guess.’ She mentally shrugged, but her face showed a slither of confusion. ‘Who was the least friendly? Just out of curiosity.’
‘You, my dear. Or rather, your original people. They babble and babble for no apparent reason other than to coerce you into becoming a “friend”. Naïve and derivative, and by a large margin, a completely unfriendly attitude. Those “institutions” they have for it is such a waste, and I am surprised a sort of Ecclesiarchy has not risen around it. But I digress.’
She did not add to it.
‘And the Changelings?’ she asked again.
‘I came across your rival – I think without a doubt she is better than that dimwit currently on the throne. A shame she is no longer ruling.’
She frowned. ‘I disagree.’
‘Of course, you do. But she did try to rule once more, you know?’
‘Really?? When?’
‘Three days prior. In that forest next to Canterlot. It was very entertaining to watch her fail. It was also very easy to snatch her afterward. It made her more… pliable. An indomitable spirit, she has.’
‘In love,’ she leaned in conspiratorially, ‘perchance?’
He emitted a loud puke. ‘I am teetering on admiration, but nothing more.’ He received another strongly voiced message, attached to it was a malignant techno-virus.
‘Anyhow, it is time for me to leave. And let me say, your willingness and calmness are very surprising Cadance.’
‘When you survive nearly being killed two- no, three times! In less than five years, experiences like this one are just… Well, you just miss the torture part to really make it a point of contention and anxiety-inducing.’
‘Jaded by experience,’ he mused.
‘My life was positively rocked with world-ending events. And I was once turned into stone.’
‘I know. Awful music that day.’
‘You were there?’
‘Oh, yes. Let me tell you; that Storm King was a complete letdown. I expected someone with Imotek’s level of genius, not a literal bumbling buffoon. The Stormlord knows he has power, at least; he does not require to take one of the others. But it was fun seeing my colleague losing his engrams when the King started playing with your astral bodies.’ He emitted a low laugh.
‘I can see the fun in it. Yes…’ She smiled back.
‘Also, what a bunch of incompetent idiots you have as masters. How did you not notice the damn things arriving? You are inside land, you have means of quick communications for the primitive people that you are, and have an outpost resting on clouds. That is pure incompetence at this point.’
‘They are idiots – as you said. I am an idiot too, so it is understandable. Luna and Celestia were supposedly in charge, so… Yeah, we’re idiots.’
‘Complacent is more exact of a word.’
‘I do admit, I can be lax sometimes.’
‘Just do not let yourself be too complacent.’ He paused; he then returned with a seemingly malign expression. ‘With all you have lived through, I have one more thing.’
‘Do ask.’
‘I have one last question before relieving ourselves from each other. A question that has lingered in my mind ever since learning more about your kind. A question that is perhaps the oldest one in your world, lying waiting to be asked in the subconscious of all – but you will never ask it out loud. You are too terrified to want to know its answer or what it will install in the mind or minds of those targeted by it.’
Then it dropped, and she felt more lost than ever before. She felt the atmosphere weighing more upon her as if she knew the answer but was too terrified to say it or admit that the alien may be right.
The question was simple:
‘What will happen when an Alicorn goes to war?’
****
Cadance dragged a half-awakened Armor out of the cave. It did not prevent him from noticing her incredible passiveness. She had been quiet in the aftermath of Chrysalis’ attack, she had been quiet after every danger they had faced. She never showed it, he had always been the one privy to her silent phases.
‘So, that’s it?’ he ponderously asked. ‘Am I being captured by you instead of them?
He had the reflex to start joking. Cadance would at times break her quiet for him, but the back and for were painfully one-sided.
However, that instance of rapid mood swings was more clearly shown when someone came to intrude upon them. Anyone. Though he wondered if Celestia had wind of it.
‘Where are you taking me? To your wondrous palace?’
‘Oh, I am taking you to a palace alright.’
He forced her to stop, wanting to stand up on his own hooves again. Though he could not let go of her grip properly.
‘Did they hurt you?’
‘Only one.’
‘The Infinite or-’
‘Yes. Him.’ She nodded repeatedly. ‘Yep,’ she wearily smiled. ‘He just wanted to have his little fun before leaving. I was a wonderful guest, I think.’
Shining Armor laughed. ‘You always were a wonderful guest.’
‘Oh, I don’t think “always” is appropriate.’
‘True enough. I was of the privilege to not be a welcomed guest to your grumpy periods.’
‘And you can be equally so.’
‘And I am accused of exaggerating.’
They laughed together. She told him of the question.
‘Don’t…’ he hesitated. ‘Don’t think more about it.’
He petted her on the head, messing her hair to distract Cadance. Great was his disappointment when for all his usual efforts, he had barely moved them. She offered him to take her hood, and he promptly stretched her on her face.
‘I don’t like it,’ she said behind a tired smile, keeping the hood above her expression.
‘I don’t either. But we have the time to think about it.’
Cadance nodded and took out a device she had hidden under her wing. ‘He called it: Dramatis Mortalis. It is a complete history of every race in his- their universe. A “gift”, he called it.’
He stared blankly at it, his words lost to describe the possible impossibilities stored within. ‘I am sure they will appreciate it.’
‘She could have come,’ complained Doombill – head of the last truly functional bank of the land, and called the “most honorable and altruistic Griff in the kingdom” by his mother – ‘I spent a lot on those carrots.’
‘And good ones at that,’ nodded Nightplume. ‘And the roasted snakes, too! Though, Lord Murkbeak, yours did not have that… good taste.’
The Lord of the Hollow Forest snorted in frustrated amusement. ‘Your vocabulary might be lacking, but your taste is great! My contribution was indeed lacking; what can I do about it?’
‘Bring one of your…’ Carine trailed off. ‘How you pronounce it, again? Boosh?’
‘Bûche,’ he corrected. ‘I thought I would have helped our guests reduce their sugar consumption. They are already fat enough,’ he cackled. ‘Ginger always helps losing weight.’
‘How kind,’ said Doombill, putting a claw on Murkbeak’s shoulder. Its very touch made the lord shudder, enough to slap the claw off.
‘Go tell your bitch sister I will not start to repay my loan until I have an extension and lowered interest.’
‘I already took it upon myself to lower the interest, but, as for your former point, Angel is not too keen on letting me act.’
‘I am willing to pay your “commissions”,’ he snarled.
‘Enough, you two!’ opposed Yerkati Hank. ‘We have more pressing concerns.’
‘Cadance is not even present,’ put Greta, frustrated by the prolonged wait. They had managed to convince Cadance to meet again two days after the festivities. No one saw them in the meanwhile; she had requested privacy, a request her somewhat angsty expression made them take seriously.
‘I know those Ponies can be lazier than a tired turtle, but pretentious they are…’ Gilda paused to correct herself. ‘They can be very pretentious, never mind.’
Carine smirked. ‘I wonder why they have been that isolated. Is it something inherent with the “Empire”?
‘Perhaps,’ said Gilda. ‘Few are those amongst the populace that ever sought her out. It was always about the Sisters and Twilight. I guess it is fitting Cadance was the one that came to us with genuine intentions.’
‘Not that “friendship conference” or whatever that old hag of Celestia wanted. Not that the crone ever cared about things beyond her interest,’ put forward the usually silent Solarnail – arch-mage of the Griffon Kingdom and Prince of Glarus. ‘All those Alicorns are problems. When that “Luna” popped out from who-knows-where, I sensed those… ripples. Then that Twilight was “elevated” and the same thing; why you trust one of them is beyond me. Why anyone ever does, is beyond me.’
A collective role of the eyes and the occasional exhalations followed.
‘Then you should have stayed home,’ declared Yerkati. ‘Your blood tension is,’ he pointed at his own skull, ‘playing tricks.’
‘All I am saying,’ opposed Solarnail, scratching the back of his neck, ‘is that if they are taken off the head of Equestria, not only would they experience true strife, they would also be liberated from tyranny.’
‘Calm down there, eh?’ interjected Gilda. ‘You pale in front of them, but it is not to the point their powers can be used for tyranny.’
‘You lack proper historical context, girl,’ he countered.
Solarnail mumbled something indecipherable. Gilda winced and grunted in return. She sat in the chair that was reserved for Gruff, and the council returned to a tense silence, only occasionally broken by tapping claws.
Minutes later, a knight entered the conference room, awakening the Griffs that hoped it was the meal they had ordered from the local market, preferring to pay for those instead of purchasing Gilda’s famous scones. The knight saluted them all – as was expected from protocol – and headed straight toward the passive Sigismund.
‘So?’ asked Doombill.
‘They are not here,’ calmly replied Sigismund. ‘Their bed is untouched, but their belongings remain. There is a picture of the royal couple with their daughter stuck on the corner of the bed.’
The arch-mage grunted. Gilda took a long, deep breath and grabbed her head with her claws; Greta tried to calm her while containing her own emotions. Carine wished for her husband to be there. Murkbeak wanted to return to his “cabin” in the woods. Doombill cursed Cadance for making him have to confront his younger sister, joined by the Lord of the Hollow Forest.
‘So…’ began Yerkati. ‘Should we order food for all of us?’
‘Yeah…’ Nightplume vaguely agreed.
Carine closed her eyes and snorted amusingly. They all glared at her, but some knew why she was amused. ‘My husband,’ she began, keeping her smiled, ‘would have been amused by the parallels. I cannot help myself. Sorry.’
‘Celestia will take over,’ said Grifone Tessin, old friend of Carine’s husband and the province of the same name – simultaneously the poorest and richest of the kingdom, below Naniwish but above Griffonstone, its wealth only explained by its lack of inhabitants and its beautiful, warm gambling areas. ‘Thoros always warned me of it.’
‘He always exaggerates,’ said Anna Komn – daughter of the mayor of the free-city of Bozanti.
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Nightplume, shushing himself by putting his claws over his beak before reprisal came.
‘We can’t do a thing about it,’ said Solarnail, trying to shift the topic. ‘Now, what shall we order? I am willing to pay.’
‘Let us discuss and vote,’ proposed Greta.
‘Wonderful idea!’ exclaimed the Arch-mage.
Lunch had been simple, but long. Cheese, wine, and some roasted rodents shared between all thirty members of the Regency Council. Surprisingly, the impassive Sigismund had joined in with the gathering. Of course, some tensions flared between old rivals, but they were all quelled by the other members without the Chapter Master’s participation.
They all rested, now, sharing the odd story to each other around coffee and a yellow cake made without eggs, trying to forget Cadance and Shining had ever come here.
Then, suddenly, the air flickered. The knights and Solarnail readied themselves for battle with the instincts of predators.
Sigismund ordered weapons down, locking gaze with the Prince of Glarus, as familiar shapes emerged the etheric maelstrom.
‘Princess Cadance,’ declared Sigismund behind a smile.
She looked wasted. Her eyes screamed exhaustion. Shining Armor was holding tight to her. Trails of evaporated tears stained her fur, making Armor’s armor damages feel as trivial.
Gilda rushed towards her, checking Cadance for any sign of miss-treatment. Solarnail stiffened his pose, and turned to return to his chair when everyone else had gotten up.
‘What happened?’ asked Gilda.
Cadance told them. She told them all about the Necrons. She excused herself for the secrecy. She excused herself for the not being earnest about the reason behind their odd injuries.
‘I am not colluding with them,’ she sobbed. ‘I swear.’
No one had asked a thing, they had all stood hearing her talk about that species from another world. She answered a question unasked, but to whom the answer was destined, even Armor wasn’t sure.
Shining Armor let Flurry Heart play with his hair. Pulling it, ruining it, and robbing his mane of its majesty. It would typically hurt him and constantly take her off his back, but he was more focused on Cadance’s gloomy expression. They were home now; she could indulge in her
The deal with the Griffons passed and was agreed upon without great debate; Griffonstone returned to its semblance and peace, yet she wasn’t able to find anything pleasant in her achievements. Flurry had noticed her mother’s unwillingness to play with her, she saw passed the façade she had shown to Twilight.
Celestia, worried about her prolonged absence, asked if she could come to Canterlot. They had gone later at night, right on time for both Sisters to be present, though Luna was more evasive.
Cadance had lied. She lied about Trazyn’s abduction, she lied about the Griffons’ scare and hid the question.
How much her attempt was successful, Cadance could not tell, but she liked to believe she was successful.
She almost purposefully omitted the existence of the Dramatis Mortalis. It was her own burden, and she took it upon herself to hide it from the world. Maybe, at some point, she would reveal it. One day, she promised, at the opportune time.
‘Want to eat something?’
‘No.’
He tried to kiss her under Flurry Heart’s harried attacks. She alleviated his efforts.
‘Sleep? I sure need some myself.’
‘What… What will happen? Why did he… Why did he ask me that question?’
‘You said it; he wants to mess with you.’
‘But if it did happen?’
‘Because you plan to go to war with someone?’ he laughed it out. ‘You personally? Because it would explain that monster’s behavior,’ he pointed toward Flurry Heart, stymieing the pain he felt.
‘Maybe it might happen in the future?’ She paused to liberate Armor from Flurry. ‘Why “empire”? Really – why “Crystal Empire”? What do I have to pretend the country is one when it clearly isn’t?!’
‘Cadance!’ Armor shouted, scaring Flurry Heart and stunning his wife. ‘Don’t!’ he warned. ‘Don’t fall to what you are scared of.’
‘What will happen when an Alicorn goes to war?’ sherepeated the question aloud.
He hugged her. He did know any other way beyond it.
It never failed to please her, even in worse positions. Flurry Heart made her little attempt by slamming in full flight into her mother, making her parents lose balance.
She was grounded by her father afterward.
Cadance, too.
****
‘Nightmare Moon,’ she played with the name. ‘I wonder what my name might be.’
‘Would be,’ she corrected. ‘Why do you want to know? You don’t have to know if you possess that aspect.’
‘What if I do?’
‘You don’t.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Because I know I am right.’
Cadance laughed. ‘Did you ask yourself that question back then? Or was it… pressed upon you?’
‘I had the time to ask it for myself – on my own. I know that feeling, Cadance; that is why I came.’
‘Had it rapidly conquered you?’
‘Relatively. I did not have a,’ she laughed, ‘Shining Armor – at the time. It was already too late when I had asked it. Me, Luna, not Nightmare Moon.’
‘Don’t hate me for asking.’
‘Why would I?’ she smiled. ‘We can keep it as our little secret.’
‘I prefer. Thank you. But she does know, right? Celestia knew I was lying to her face?’
‘She does. Of course, not about the Question. As I said, it is our little thing…’ Luna paused. ‘I support your actions. Know this.’
‘Like it will make a difference,’ answered Cadance, amusingly.
‘You are very impolite!’ she laughed at the answer. ‘I know this crown is more paper than metal, but you don’t have to throw it in the water! Trust me – there? Understand?’
Cadance laughed. ‘Will you two really follow through with your decision?’
‘Celestia needs it.’
‘You can reign in her stead,’ she leered.
‘She needs it more than you know. She has changed. And Celestia, when she thinks no one is looking, says so.’
‘She told Twilight?’
‘Soon, but don’t concern yourself with it. Soon everyone will know. For now, only you and Armor know of our decision. Plus, you will feel better when left alone.’ Luna paused and looked above. ‘I have other errands. Remember: I am always here.’
‘I know.’
‘Good night, Cadance,’ saluted Luna.
‘Good night, Luna,’ she saluted back.
****
‘Why did you bother with that one?’ accused Orikan.
Trazyn did not answer; he only shrugged.
‘It was a waste of time,’ continued the Diviner. ‘We could have left earlier, but why you’ve insisted on talking with that Cadance, is beyond me.’
‘Remembrance, dearest Orikan.’
‘Why bother? We won’t be returning. The ghostwinds are closing. Their rampant use of the esoteric will doom them in less than a century.’
‘Your prediction?’
‘Subsequent generations are getting more… outgoing with their abilities.’ He paused. ‘A calamity will befall them.’
‘Interesting.’
There was hidden amusement in Trazyn’s response. Orikan hated it. Even in that world that wasn’t theirs, he thought, the Infinite was interfering in his affairs all in the name of his obsession.
Orikan’s movement snapped into readiness, his hands gripping firmly on the Staff of Light. Trazyn turned and used his own staff to push Orikan’s to the side with rapid force. The Diviner lost balance and fell on the metallic floor of the Lord of Antiquity. Then to be pinned down by two lychguards.
‘It is my ship, Orikan,’ pleasantly warned Trazyn.
‘I will unleash hruds bio-forms on Solemnance!’
‘Do it and die.’
Trazyn abandoned Orikan on the floor, heading to amuse himself in guiding and verifying the work of a crew slaved to the ship for eternity.
Hours later, he was pleased to announce on the vox to no ears except Orikan’s that all was well and functions were working at optimal requirement.
