Darkness and shadow swept through the city of Roam in the form of Shadow touched creatures and a wave of black energy that consumed every living creature within its path and perverted it to the will of its new Mistress. Groups of valiant griffon guards fell back street by street from the onslaught, desperately trying to form a line of defense in the face of the ever encroaching horde.

But in the city they’d left behind, things were far, far different.

“Next!” piped up Pinkie Pie, humming a happy little tune as she changed out the sheets for the second time that day. She’d always been good at getting things neat n’ tidy in a great big hurry, and today was no exception. TwiTwi had told her it was vital she stay away from the nastiness and focus on converting the locals… which Pinkie was just fine with. She didn’t mind fighting, but she would much rather be partying.

Speaking of parties, the loyal griffon guards they’d converted a coupla’ days ago were guiding in the next group. The large tavern serving as Pinkie’s informal base of operations had seen most of its bar-tables improved with big fluffy pillows covered in nice fluffy sheets. Behind the bar, a laconic and otherwise completely laid back griffon wearing a pair of cool shades was mixing up another pitcher of Apple Cider Cocktails. He’d actually been kinda funny - even when they’d barged in and started converting the tavern staff - he hadn’t blinked an eye at that. Just asked all cool and polite that they not break anything in his bar. Pinkie kinda liked him.

But she had a job of work to do! It really wasn’t quite work, but more like partying professionally. The group of griffons now watching her with mixed degrees of fright and curiosity clocked in at about seventeen, with abouuuut… eleven males and six females. That’d make things kinda interesting, but interesting was half the fun of all this! “Hi there!” she piped up as they entered, hopping up onto one of the bed-tables and giving her best friendly grin. “My name’s Pinkie Pie, and I’m happy to meet all of you!”

And that was the truth - she really was ecstatic to meet so many new ponies and griffons and other creatures. So many new friends, so little time! “We’ll have to take the time to get to know one another better later, but it’s a busy busy day for me, sooo…” Pinkie’s voice slipped down to a lower register, as she felt the deep pulse of the Shadow somewhere down near her tummy. She slipped off one of the bed tables and slowly walked across the room towards the slightly frightened group, a slow smile on her face. “Why don’t you all go have a drink, hmm?” she suggested quietly, powerfully… and cheerfully - completely confusing the new group of creatures.

Behind the bar, the sound of ice hitting the glass and the pouring of liquids immediately grabbed everypony’s attention. The barkeeper put the half-empty pitcher down next to the scattering of glasses and gave his bar a wipe down with a cloth. “What… what in the name of the great Caesar is going on here!?” one of the males yelled, turning on Pinkie with a rather angry look on his face. “What is all of this insanity?” he demanded, advancing on her as his feathers puffed out and his beak snapped menacingly.

A long time ago, Pinkie might’ve been scared by that sort of attitude… but not any more. She let the griffon get very close to her, before she slipped in under his threatening talons with an impossible speed. Her body molded itself against his and pressed with all the right softness and pressure, taking him so utterly off guard that he stared at her in bafflement. Pinkie smiled - no longer perky and cheerful - but not full of the deep and abiding lust that ruled her new soul. “The future,” she said softly before wrapping her hooves around his neck and planting her lips upon his beak.

His eyes widened as he made to try to pull her off… but froze in mid gesture as the Shadow power poured into him. Pinkie always loved this feeling… it was… it was like the perfect cupcake and cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, and sharing your table with your very best friend and special somepony. This feeling of belonging and unity and togetherness. Why couldn’t the world party together? Pinkie had never had a good answer for that one, until the Shadow had come along and showed her that it could.

Her leg slipped up and wrapped around the angry griffon’s hip as she eased him back to the bed-table, the anger and fear draining out of him to be replaced by happiness and desire. His excitement became more and more apparent, pressing into her thigh and giving her a little shiver of anticipation as she felt his talons slowly pulling her in closer rather than trying to shove her away.

Pinkie liked this part a whole whole lot, as bad emotions gave way to much nicer ones and the griffon beneath her began to return this kiss in earnest. Talons which moments ago were ready to rend her apart were stroking down her sides and framing her curvy body. She arched against him, fluttering her eyes at the sensations magnified by the rush of power through her body - the feeling of that Shadow spark catching inside of her new friend and freeing him of all the bad stuff… leaving nothing but the good stuff.

Pinkie wrenched away from the kiss of her new Shadow friend, turning her head and smiling at the now disbelieving stares of the rest of the group. Her lips curved upwards, and she giggled in a soft and sultry tone. “What’s the matter sillies?” she cooed out, feeling those taloned hands grabbing at her hips and maneuvering her perfectly plump body into a more suitable place. Her back arched a little and she felt him pressing his excitement up at her fun button, her sweet moan singing through the room.

”C’mon and…Mmmf… Join the party.”

Prince Captain Scipio Skytalon was not by nature a violent griffon. Most of his peers would have actually considered him something of a dork. He was an intellectual by inclination, but the realities of griffon politics meant that he - like all of his brothers and sisters - would be forced into the realms of the military. Fortunately, he found the sway of battle to be as entrancing as studying the philosophies of Canter and Hobbles.

In truth, he found a certain fatalistic attraction to battle - his weapon pierced the throat of one foe, his shield lashed out to drive back another. Here, in these moments of almost detached thought as his body responded to countless hours of muscle-memory training, he found a strange sort of peace even amidst the rage that boiled in his heart. Normally, he might have felt remorse for the slaughter he was visiting upon them. But everything he loved - his city, his family, his fellow soldiers - was being imperiled by these creatures. That made the philosophy of fighting them rather simple in his estimation.

Even as he felt the pain of a spear renting a gash in his shield arm, his quiet rage did not falter. He simply dealt with the threat that had wounded him and moved on. He might have been screaming - frankly, after all of the fighting he’d done that day already, he was quite surprised he could tell half of what was going on beyond sight-reflexive action-repeat. It was only when he wheeled his spear to find a wall of loyal griffons surrounding him that he stopped, the vigor in his blood slowly dying down as wave after wave of his tercels drove into the enemy.

Battle cries and screams rent the air about him, and his foe - finding itself outnumbered and outmatched - quickly beat a hasty retreat away from the inn. They were the first such foes to actually recognize their plight and react accordingly, and that was far more terrifying than maddened berzerkers. “Captain!” yelled a familiar voice out of the haze of blood and death as the same nameless Centurion who had first saved his life upon the Wall gave his shoulder a shake. “Captain, focus.” His voice was calm, but firm - even as he turned his head to thunder into the milling ranks of his men. “We need a dottore! Get that hackjob over here, now!”

Scipio sucked in deep breaths and exhaled them slowly as he came back to himself. The sight of the white bandanna of the dottore was almost as welcome as the pain killing salve that was being slathered onto his wound. “Looks a lot worse than it is,” the dottore grunted as he went to work with his needle and gut thread to tighten up the wound. Scipio was thankful for that as the front doors to the inn were wrenched open and a familiar white crest and bright golden eyes came flying out of them in a terrible rage.

“You dumbass! Your moron! You absolute fuckin’ lame-brained idiot!” Gilda’s voice poured into his ears like honeyed mead as she bashed at his shoulders with fisted talons. While they certainly hurt enough to make him wince, her heart wasn’t really in the blows she rained upon him. “Why’d you do that!? You could’a gotten yourself killed, or fuckin’ Celestia only knows what else!” Gilda had picked up that colloquialism during her time in Equestria as an exchange student, and it never failed to amuse Scipio just a little. “An’ what are you smiling about you big… dumb…. lameo…” The spirit went out of her curses as she grabbed him up in a rough hug, taking care not to interrupt the dottore’s work with the needle.

Scipio extended his arm to hold her firmly against his chest and lay his head upon her shoulder. “I was worried about you too, Gilda,” was all he needed to say - and really, all he could say. Gilda gave off a little sniffle and smacked his shoulder hard again, making him grin a little from the impact. “I am so glad to see you safe. Do you know where Father is?” That was his next concern. If Roam was being evacuated, Scipio would need to see his father as quickly as possible. He would need to be on talon to take command of the familial guards and ensure the family treasures and other family members were all safely accounted for.

Gilda gave off a derisive snort. “Course not. Haven’t seen him since I got out of that stuffed up shithole of an Inner City yesterday.” Her voice was like acid, and Scipio had to sigh. If Scipio had been reluctantly accepting of the necessities of griffon politics, Gilda was an outright rebel against them. She’d refused military service in favor of attending the Cloudsdale Academy, had absolutely destroyed her politically valuable relationship with one of the Elements of Harmony - though Scipio was privately convinced she had done that to protect the pony in question - and had caused no end of embarrassment with her carousing.

And yet…. he loved her nonetheless. She was never anything but utterly genuine, completely incapable of hiding her true nature behind the masks of political need. She was stout in heart and mind and would go to the mat for what she believed in even if it was unpopular. In a way, Scipio envied her those luxuries. “Very well. We’re going to have to make our way there on foot,” Scipio quietly said, his eyes darting across the street as the dottore knotted off his stitches and began to tightly wrap the arm in a bandage. “Do you think you can unbend long enough to take command of our militia? They’ve got crossbows, and you’ve always been a better shot than I was,” Scipio added the last to take a bit of the sting out of his words, hoping that in a time of crisis she could at least be mildly sensible.

Gilda eyed him up with a beady and suspicious look, but nodded shortly. “Fine. But just until we get out of this clusterfuck,” she grumbled, stalking off towards the disorganized and confused militia. “Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up!” Gilda’s voice thundered across the street’s cobblestones, terrifying most of those in close proximity and getting the attention of the rest. Scipio smothered a grin as she stalked over to one quavering militia fighter and gave him a mighty headbutt - sending him careening to the ground. “There will be no lame-o cowardice while I’m around, or I’ll fucking kill you and eat you myself!” she growled, and every one of the militia fighters snapped to parade ground attention.

Scipio couldn’t help it then, his professional demeanor dissolving into coughs and helpless laughter for a few wonderful moments before he regained control over himself. And she says she hates military life… he thought with a final snort of laughter. The dottore gave him a severe look before sighing and walking off to his next duty, leaving Scipio to ponder his next move. All around him, the wall guard took their rest while they could. Some were clearly taking short naps, others gnawing away at jerky or cleansing armor and shield of gore. It was a cardinal rule of soldiery that one took rest when one could, even in the midst of war.

Scipio sighed and finally prised the helmet off of his head, wincing at the feel of the lump that surely would be annoying him for a week or more. He traced a talon along where the blow had fallen and where others had furthered the damage, rendering his helmet now useless. Close… Too close, came the rueful thought as his talon gingerly felt where the first blow had taken him completely by surprise. How many others hadn’t been as lucky? How many others…

“Captain! We’ve found something you need to see!” The words cut through his thoughts, and Scipio turned to face the voice. One of the centurions again, with a look of severe worry upon his face. His talons grasped spear and shield and left the ruined armor behind.

“Show me.”

Pinkie felt a scream of pleasure rip through her lungs and sail into the air as the three male griffons she’d hoof picked ravaged her body. Their musk was nearly overpowering to the nose, driving her lust higher and higher. Talons grasped and raked at her body, leaving red scratches and occasionally nicking her hard enough to draw blood… all of which was simply more pleasure heaped upon the pile. Their breath was hot, and their words dark and dirty in her ears…

It was amongst the most intense experiences of her entire life - although her nights with Mistress Twilight were still the tops. Still, these griffons sure knew how to show a mare a good time, and judging by the screams coming from the other tables they were showing their own females a good time too. The world was exactly where it ought to be, with all of the newly touched enjoying the benefits of their new brother and sisterhood.

Pinkie arched up her back fetchingly, and the griffons attending to her responded with a renewed vigor - thrusting, nibbling, licking, biting… Oh goodness, Pinkie had rarely had parties as good as the one she was having now. Then again, she’d always loved when she got lots and lots of attention from multiple partners… it was just now, she knew on some fundamental level that they were having just as much fun as she was. The Shadow pulsed deep inside of them all, and it resonated with its separate parts. They were one of the same whole, and it was glorious beyond compare.

Her body twisted and writhed and for the umpteenth time that day, and Pinkie climaxed to the tune of a cheerful little giggle and moan. Her three partners followed soon after, stuffing her as full as a custard donut with their love-juices. The thought of food inevitably made Pinkie a little hungry, so reluctantly she disengaged herself from her partners to trot on over to the bar, her fun bits dripping onto the floor behind her. She’d clean up later, and besides, the rank smell of sex and orgasm gave the room a lovely perfume.

The barkeeper was as laconic as he had been since they’d taken over the place for use as a conversion center. Pinkie got the impression that he just took life as it came and didn’t much bother himself with the details. “You should really drink more fluids, Miss Pie,” he rumbled at her, his voice deep throated and kinda growly. “You’ll pass out if you don’t.” And sure enough, he passed a large clean mug of iced water across the bar to her with the kind of severe look Ms. Cake gave her when she’d partied a little too hard.

As always, thoughts of the Cakes turned her mood a bit less funsy, and she took the mug and slowly drank down the water to cover the moodiness. She had to stop over thinking it. It was in the past and one couldn’t change the past, or so Twilight had always told her. So she focused on the happy - namely that her latest batch of recruits were obviously having a grand old time with her newest party. “Thanks, Barkeep.” That’d been the only name he’d given her, so that’s what she called him! Ponies had funny names too sometimes.

Still, she found it odd that the Shadow hadn’t touched him in the same way. Then again, it had touched Dashie and AJ and Rarity all differently too. Maybe there was something about a pony or other creature which changed how the Shadow affected him. Maybe this poor griffon had just never had much need or time for sexy-fun. It was a sad thought, but he looked pretty content with his life - and Pinkie had to figure that wasn’t such a bad thing.

She watched the groups of griffons indiscriminately pleasuring one another for a few more moments, before turning with a slow smile to the barkeep. “Say, I don’t suppose you know where a gal might find a good cupcake, do ya?”

“We found them like this, Captain.”

The Centurion whispered to him fearfully, and Scipio silenced him with a stern glare. The last thing he needed was his tercels panicking. The griffon family arrayed before him would have been fairly typical in any other circumstance. A tall and regal father with golden-brown feather coloring, and the look of a heavy weapons fighter based on his considerable bulk of muscles. A mother, sleek and acrobatic with a beautiful bright silver sheen to her feather tips. Two younger griffons - a brother, and a sister - each bearing notable resemblances to their parents.

They would have been a model family were it not for the activities they were engaging in with one another in broad daylight. The father was atop the daughter, rutting away at her with reckless abandon - but no rape was this, for the daughter was eagerly - almost desperately - rutting back against him. Her words were garbled amidst the sounds of her pleasure, but there was no mistaking she was begging to be impregnated. The son and the mother were making out with one another, the mother writhing atop the son’s lap lewdly.

Their home was half wrecked around them - with the obvious signs of attack showing on the battered down doorway and the bodies of three slain griffon attackers pierced with crossbow bolts laying just feet away from where the family was… getting to know one another better. On the door, a black scrawl in the shape of a crude six pointed star was painted onto the front door… and it was not the only such door so adorned. Scipio steeled his nerve and pushed open another such door a few feet down the street - only to find a similar scene playing out with similar results… and in many cases, where the ages were far less close together.

Scipio felt the bile rushing into his throat and stifled it down with a force of will, deliberately closing the door behind him. “We can do nothing for them,” he said in a hoarse tone of voice, stalking back toward the inn where the rest of his troops awaited. “Give the order that no citizen so corrupted is to be approached or harmed. We are to avoid any such gathering of individuals at all costs until we can ascertain what foul magics have done this.” The Centurion nodded at Scipio’s rasping tone and quickly rushed off into the ranks.

The word of this would not be good for morale, but discovering it by surprise would be worse. Scipio felt his claw flex around the haft of his warspear - over and over again to work the tension out of his mind. The pieces had fallen into place. His foe had no intention of conquering the city by force. She intended to convert the city to her own side. He had no doubt that in short order, that poor family would join the ranks of the berzerker foes he’d been encountering all day… but it was not within his heart to slaughter them as they were now.

No. He would save his rage for the one who had done this to them.

Resolutely, Scipio turned on his heel and marched back amongst his tercels - many of them now muttering and discussing the news the Centurions had delivered to them. “Listen up!” he growled, and the soldiers snapped their beaks closed. “We can mourn for those who have fallen later,” Scipio began, slowly turning on his heel to catch the eye of every one of his soldiers. “We can rage, and weep, and scorn the world that has done this to those we once called friends and neighbors. We can curse the name of the creature who has done this to our kind. But we can do none of these things if we do not survive. We can do none of these things if we do not preserve the Kings.” Little by little, he saw the steel go back into the spines of the tercels, and some the fear go out of their eyes.

Scipio took a deep breath and exhaled it before speaking again, pitching his voice high so that even the civilians could hear him. He needed more - he needed to inspire them. “We undoubtedly face the greatest crisis since the days of the second Caesar. I will not deny it!” He gestured with his spear and imbued rank scorn into his face. “Do not take me for the armchair general, who sits in his study and bemoans the failures of those he has failed to command. Our enemies are numerous and they are strong - but if our foe thinks our strength so easily broken, they will be sadly mistaken.” Little by little, his troops were firming up - many of them nodding to one another.

Scipio licked the sweat from his beak and continued to speak, beginning to walk slowly to the center of the crowd. “Before us, the path is stony. We must reach the inner city and connect with our brothers in arms, so that we may escape to fight another day.” He spoke in calm, casual tones - as if discussing a walk down the street for a smoke and a drink. “We shall have to do so with no support and no aid from our fellow citizens. It will be a difficult going every step of the way.” Then he turned on his heel suddenly to glare daggers at his tercels each in turn. “But we shall not turn back. We shall not flee before our foe like scared wretches! We shall retreat in good order, as befits the Legion!”

Now the civilians were nodding, and the tercels were looking more and more enthusiastic every moment. Scipio inwardly sighed in relief, but outwardly he kept his stern demeanour. “We shall begin the march immediately… ” He paused now, feeling a heady heat in his heart. He trusted these soldiers. Now, he had to ensure they would trust in him. “I shall not lie to you. We shall face battle, blood, and losses every step of the way. But we shall be equal to the task, for we are the Legion.” He grasped his war spear and thrust its point into the sky, his voice rising to match the flame slowly growing in his heart. “The Legion, who held the line against the Long Night and the Nightmare Queen!” A chorus of cheers met this call, and Scipio’s voice grew in strength as he continued. “The Legion, who held firm against Barkus Khan and turned back the Diamond Horde!” More cheers, as soldiers and citizens alike took up the cry. The fear was gone from them now, replaced with grim determination. “The Legion, who ended the reign of the Dragon Tyrant and claimed his horde for its own!”

Scipio slammed the butt on his spear to the ground, and silence answered him. He spoke softly, but knew that his words carried to every ear in the crowd. “The Legion, which has faced every foe on every battlefield, without fear.” Scipio’s head came up, and his voice tore into a roar that rattled across the stones of the square, “The Legion, who will face this foe no differently than any other that has come before it, FOR THE LEGION DOES NOT SURRENDER!” he called, his eyes flashing in the dim light of the day. And with a single motion, all of the tercels brandished their spears into the air. Their voices were a roar, joined by the militia and even many of the civilians who held their crossbows aloft in kind. Even Gilda’s voice rose above the fray, for they all knew the reply to that call. A call which had been sounded down throughout the centuries of history that was written in the blood and sweat of the griffon race.

"THE LEGION STANDS!"

Walking back from the wash basin, Twilight Shadow felt her steps unsteady for a moment as a wave of disorientation hit her without cause or warning. In an instant, Umbra was at her side and steadied her step with a wing wrapped about her center. “Steady, my child.” Umbra’s whisper calmed Twilight instantly and banished away the momentary fear and confusion. “There is a power yet in this city,” Umbra whispered softly, her eyes half lidding. “A strength I have not felt in countless centuries. The blood of the Caesar yet runs thick in the veins of these creatures… we must move quickly,” she finished, her voice still thick with the love and pleasure they had been so recently indulging in.

Twilight nodded once, tucking a stray bit of mane behind her ear. “Yes. The inner city is not falling as quickly as we had presumed it would. Our timetable is going to be thrown off,” she said with a pucker of annoyance on her lips. “We’ll have to accelerate our original plans. I’d prefer not to leave the inner city a way out but…” She shook her mane as Umbra began to chuckle richly, and glared up at her mother. “What? Am I missing something?” Twilight could hear her tone getting testy, but Umbra didn’t seem to much care.

Umbra smiled tolerantly down at her, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I did warn you that the best laid plans rarely survive first contact with the enemy. Things have been going well enough, even if there is a greater strength marshalling against us. Whatever - or whoever - it may be, it cannot stand against us.” That she said with utmost confidence - something Twilight had rarely heard from her - and caused her to feel a flush of accomplishment. Umbra had such trust in her abilities that she was certain of victory? That was a most welcome surprise. “Still, we had best not take chances. How swiftly before we can assault the inner city?” Umbra’s tone had switched to all business, and Twilight quickly snapped to attention.

The numbers were going to be the problem. The vast majority of the trained warriors in Roam were in the Inner City and likely were becoming more organized by the hour. Simply put, she didn’t have what she needed to breach the inner walls without either doing it herself or sustaining serious losses. The latter was unacceptable - which meant the former was all she had to lean on. Umbra nodded once, as if she had been expecting that line of thought from the get go. “We ought to go now,” said Umbra quietly, and Twilight nodded with a solemn agreement. “I shall bring your armor. Prepare yourself.” Then quietly, the Shadow alicorn vanished from the room in a burst of power.

Twilight turned to stare into the mirror of the inn room they had managed to get into before things had gotten too heated. She stared into her shadow-darkened eyes and watched the wisps of shadow power peel off of her hooves. Her mane was not a thing of hair, but of liquid that dripped to the ground ever so slowly. Her body turned as she approached the silvered glass, never taking her eyes off of it as she crossed the room. Her wings flared for a moment, and for the briefest of times she saw a shadow of Celestia and Luna within herself, an oddly appropriate thought. Her hoof came up to touch the glass and she leaned her head against it for a moment, closing her eyes and trying to remember what she had looked like before. It hadn’t even been that long ago, or so it seemed.

The image slowly built in her mind - fractured and half broken - of a bright purple unicorn eagerly awaiting the next homework assignment. Images of her colorful friends and their wild adventures together. Half-baked memories of Cadence and Shining Armor and Celestia, and what it felt like to stand under the sunlight and not feel stark fear of the world that threatened to claim everything she loved.

“Twilight…”

Umbra’s voice was soft, almost… Twilight couldn’t put her hoof on it, as she slowly opened her eyes to stare at the tears she hadn’t even felt. Umbra’s hoof took her shoulder and turned her away from the mirror as a dark wave of shadowed power rose up behind her to blacken the mirror. “It is not good to gaze into yourself too long, my beloved daughter.” Umbra’s voice was firm and motherly and slowly set Twilight’s mind to ease.

Piece by piece, Umbra lifted the deep violet armor from its carrying case and slowly strapped it to Twilight’s body when a thought occurred to her. “That’s… the first time you’ve ever said my name,” Twilight said softly, feeling a pulse of warmth in her heart. A piece of the multi-layered plate hit the floor with a metallic clang, startling Twilight out of the thought. Umbra was staring at her with a faintly disbelieving stare, then shook her head slowly as the plate slowly lifted from the ground and strapped to her shoulder.

For a few long moments, Umbra was silent as she garbed Twilight in the armor. For those same moments, Twilight began to worry that she had somehow offended her mother… until… “I...” Umbra hesitated, her voice soft and unsteady. “I have just… never felt so much affection for my Shade before.” She sounded uncertain and unsure as the last piece of flank plating settled itself into place, covering Twilight’s body with a glittering shell of metal and magic. “No…” Umbra continued as if slowly coming to a realization. “It is more than mere affection. It is…”

“Love,” Twilight said in her softest voice, and trotted noisily over to her beloved mother - reaching up with an armor shod hoof to stroke down that ethereal mane, her lips coming up to meet Umbra’s cheek and a smile on her face. “And I love you as well, my beloved Umbra.” The words seemed to both startle and please her, and Twilight felt a little bounce of happiness. She lifted her own helm - modeled after the same kind of helm once worn by Nightmare Moon - and slipped it over her head. “Now, let us make haste. Roam must fall.” Twilight could hear her voice darkening as she spoke and turned resolutely toward the door.

There was work to do, and the will of Umbra to bend upon the world.

Prince Captain Scipio felt his heart swell in his chest as they approached the eastern gates of the Inner City and with surprisingly few casualties. “Don’t get cocky, bro,” Gilda’s voice cut through his pleasure as the sight of the shining scale mail of the Legion Guard upon the wall sent a wave of relief through his soul. Still, Gilda was right - getting here was the easy part. “Yeah,” said Gilda. “Getting out of here is gonna be the tough part,” she finished, completing the thought as though she’d been thinking the same thing.

Scipio nodded and felt a breath exhale. “Still. It will be good to receive proper orders and commence with the evacuation.” The words still felt bitter in his mouth, but he could no longer deny the need. Evacuating Roam. Madness on any other day but this one. “And we will be able to check on Father - ” His words were cut off as two columns of Legionnaires marched out of the gates, twenty strong and all wearing the contoured plate of the Praetorian Guard. His jaw dropped halfway to his chest at the sight of them, escorting a graying but still strong figure amongst them.

His father, Marcus Skytalon still stood as proud and tall at the age of sixty as he did at twenty. His eyes were still the burnished gold that was the hallmark of the Skytalon clan, and he bore the much filigreed armor of a Griffon King. His eyes were focused, sunlike on Scipio - though a side glance to Gilda was as full of warmth and affection as any child could ask for. He spoke softly but firmly, a habit he had long cultivated to ensure that whenever he did speak, others would listen. “Scipio, Gilda. You must both come with me, and quickly. Time runs short for Roam… and for us all.”

Gilda stared at him for a few moments, and before Scipio could venture so much as a word she exploded. “No shit, pops! Some insane army is attacking the entire city! Half the fuckin’ plebes are going at each other like there’s no tomorrow!” Her voice rang against the stones of the wall and even the Centurions stared at her in mute astonishment. No one spoke to a King like that, no matter how related they were. Her next words were even worse. “And you’re standing here with the Celestia-damned Imperial Guards?! Why aren’t you getting our citizens out of the city? Where th’ fuck are the other Kings?!”

Scipio normally would have tried to restrain his sister at this point… but for once, could not bring himself to disagree with her. He felt anger - a terrible anger - boiling up from the pit of his stomach. What in the name of the Caesars was going on here anyway? “Calm yourself, Gilda,” his father said in an entirely too placid voice for Scipio’s tastes. “Our retreat is already underway - but we cannot yet leave Roam. There is one thing that must be done before that happens.” He turned away and began to walk, obviously expecting them to follow without further comment.

But Scipio was not going to have it. “What has to happen, Father? Have you not seen what has happened to our citizens? Have you seen nothing of the enemy that hurls itself against us without fear or doubt?” Scipio strode forward and seized his father’s shoulder, spinning him around much to the older griffon’s surprise. “What could possibly be more important than seeing to the safety of our citizens and sending warning to the other kingdoms!?” Scipio’s father stared at him for a time, then shook his head slowly - shock melting away to sadness… and regret. A regret that, for the first time today drove a dagger of fear into Scipio’s heart. But it was nothing compared to the terror that his father’s next words inspired.

“The Kings cannot leave Roam, Scipio. We must name a Caesar.”

Author's Notes:

The next chapter is a very big one. It will therefore take a little longer than normal to write, so while I will strive most mightily to have it out on wedsday, I make no promises. It will, however, be out by Friday at the latest.