“You boys ready to go?!” Vultan shouted to Loki and Jottun as they sat in the chariot while he made sure his ibexes were fed and hydrated, even taking the time to brush down their coats while petting them.

“I’m ready,” Loki replied, finally used to the chariot’s movements and no longer getting motion sick.

“Always ready, father!” Jottun shouted back. Vultan chuckled a bit as he finished tending to his prized beasts. He hopped up on the driver’s seat before whipping the reins, making the ibexes run into the sea of sand, heading for Yggdrasil.

Loki looked out after the first few minutes of the journey and saw a number of sand clouds. Clouds that gave way to a large number of Ibex riding griffons. No. Their legs were equine rather than feline. “Who are those people?!” he asked as he pointed them out.

Vultan turned his gaze towards the strange griffons riding after them, a small smile forming on his face. “Hippogriff raiders.” He said calmly, his smile growing in size before letting loose a throaty laugh. “A challenge at last! Hang on back there, boys! This ride’s going to be real rough!” He whipped the reins, causing his ibexes to gain speed.

Jottun gripped the rail of the chariot tightly as he too focused his vision on the hippogriffs, noticing that they were armed with short, curved blades. Jottun proudly beat at his chest and howled at them, almost as if to taunt them.

The hippogriffs screeched back as several of them drew bows and nocked arrows. Loki’s eyes widened as he realized all of those arrows were aimed not at Vultan or Jottun, but him. “I think they’re here for me!” He yelled as he took cover.

“Ha! Don’t be ridiculous, boy!” Vultan replied as he drew his short blade, deflecting some of the arrows. “These bandits are here to settle a score with Varangar by killing me and Jottun!” Vultan laughed as more arrows were loosed. One of them burrowed deep into Hati, causing the chariot to screech to a halt before tumbling out of control and throwing all aboard of it and into the sand.

As the dust cloud began to settle, the raiders dismounted, keeping their sabers drawn as they approached the wreckage.

“The Equestrian first,” the lead raider commanded. “The king and prince are bonuses, but our first priority is the Equestrian.” The others wasted no time and spread out to search for their intended quarry. One approached the front of the chariot and found Sköll, still thrashing about and attempting to break free of his reins. The raider smiled as he approached Sköll, intent on capturing him as a prize. He gripped the reins tight as he raised his sword and severed the link to the chariot. Sköll thrashed and kicked wildly as the raider tried to tame him. Sköll managed to land a blow to the raider’s chest, causing him to briefly fall to the ground, allowing time for his escape.

“Damn beast!” The raiders shouted as he readied his bow, aiming for the fleeing Sköll’s head. Before he could loose the arrow, the leader smacked it away, causing it to be buried in the sand.

“Forget the ibex! Our prize for the Equestrian is far greater than one of Vultan’s prized beasts.” Before the raider could talk back, his attention was drawn to a figure...figures...crawling over the dune.

“I think I see something.” He spoke before taking out his telescope to gain a better look at who or what was trying to crawl away. He focused the lens to see Loki attempting to take a somewhat wounded Jottun over the dune. “It’s our prize! Trying to slink away!”

“After him!” the leader roared, rallying his men. “Bring me his head! Now!” He commanded as he drew his sword. The band of hippogriffs ran after the boys, swords raised and ready to kill. Before they could waylay the pair, one of them felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see the gleaming, blood covered end of a sword sticking out of his gut before he tumbled off the dune dead. The band turned their collective gaze to see Vultan, carrying his heavy shield and arm briefly extended out before he reached down to his belt, quickly drawing a dagger.

“Take him!” the leader yelled before running after the boys to kill them personally while his men dealt with the king.

Vultan smiled as the band charged at him. He beat his dagger to his shield, shouting and roaring before he too charged head first into the fray. The first hippogriffs face quickly met his steel shield, which shattered his jaw and damaged his skull. He was quickly pushed aside as Vultan slashed his dagger across the chest of the second. The third raised his sword and swung it back down, aiming for Vultan’s head. The attack was quickly countered by Vultan’s shield, before his sword arm was swiped aside and the dagger was plunged into his chest. As he fell into the sand, Vultan locked eyes with the other raiders, who huddled together in terror. “Who’s next?” Vultan taunted, smiling as he once more charged the group.

While Vultan was fighting his thugs, the leader was closing in on Loki and Jottun. Even if the king lived, he would have the prize promised to him. “Die, boy!” he growled as he swung his sword at Loki’s neck.

Loki quickly dodged the attack, tucking and rolling until he was on the leader’s right. As got back to his feet, he charged at the leader and got him into a grappling hold. Loki attempted to use every ounce of his strength to bring the much bigger hippogriff to the ground, but failed, only being cast to the side for his efforts.

“You’ll have to do better than that, boy!” the leader snarled as he charged Loki, allowing Jottun to slip off to the side in his haste. Swinging his sword at Loki and missing again, the leader was blindsided as Jottun swept his legs out from beneath him and grabbed ahold of his wings, ripping and twisting at the same time to dislocate both and render them useless.

“Aargh!” the leader cried out, rolling over and slamming the pommel of his sword into Jottun’s wounded leg, causing him to let go and allow the leader to climb to his feet and kick Jottun off to the side with a roar of rage. Loki, capitalizing on the distraction, tackled the leader from behind, jamming his elbows into his opponents wrenched out wing joints and causing him to stagger to a knee before he was tossed off to the side.

“Impudent little brats!” the leader growled, stalking towards Jottun’s position, only to halt, a choked scream dying in his throat as he gazed down at the point of a dagger just barely poking  through his ribs, piercing through heart and lung and stained red with his own blood. With one last, desperate gasp for air, the leader crumpled to the ground, dead, with Vultan standing over him. The king himself was slightly worse for the wear, but mostly uninjured, though the same could not be said for his opponents, who were all dead on the ground from slashed throats, pierced hearts, and in one case, a rather nasty puncture wound going all the way from one ear hole to the other.

Loki looked up at Vultan and at the leader’s corpse. Seeing a large pouch on the hippogriff’s belt, he grabbed it, hearing the jingle of coins. Opening it, he gasped in shock. “This is Equestrian coin!”

Vultan snatched the sack from Loki and yanked one of the coins out, inspecting it carefully. “So it is, my young prince.” Vultan replied in a serious tone, tossing the sack to the ground. “Seems someone from back home doesn’t like you so much. Must be the same vile scum who hired the Tellurian. I’ll have to inform your mother about this incident, see if she can narrow down the list.” He turned his attention to Jottun, who managed to get to his feet and began to limp over to them. “For now, we need to get back to Yggdrasil. Jottun needs some medical attention.” He calmly walked over and wrapped his son in a hug. “I couldn’t be more proud of you, my little warrior.”

“Thank you, father.” Jottun replied, slightly wincing as he clutched the shard of wood sticking out of his leg. With a short twist and pull, he dislodged it. Thinking quickly, Vultan tore of a piece of his own sash and tied it around the wound, making sure it was tight enough to stop the bleeding.

“But the chariot is wrecked and the ibexes dead or run off,” Loki pointed out. “How are we going to get back to the city?”

“Worry not, my young friend.” Vultan proudly replied as he finished tying the improvised bandage around Jottun’s leg. “I know these dunes like the back of my talons. We’ll reach Yggdrasil in no time.”

Freya paced back and forth in front of her and Vultan’s thrones. “Where are they? They should have been home hours ago!” She sighed. “I hope they’re alright. Jottun especially, considering how much of a pain it was popping him out.”

“Mother, I’m sure they’re ok.” Balder reassured as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Father is the mightiest warrior in the empire and we’ve all made sure Jottun could defend himself. You should be proud at what marvelous young warrior he is becoming in his own right.”

“I think the one we should worry for is young Loki.” Gilda remarked as she touched her hand to her chin. “Though he has the spirit of one of our own, I fear it may not be enough to survive the desert wastes.”

“Oh don’t hide behind that rough facade, Gilda,” Freya said with a smile. “You’re quite proud of that boy. We all see what a powerful warrior he will become. It’ll take more than a desert to kill him. On another topic…” Her smile turned teasing. “When do you two plan to give me grandchildren?”

“Mother!” Balder replied, his face turning red in embarrassment. “Please! Now is not the time for that! We should be more focused on our current matter.” Gilda couldn’t help but chuckle a little, her own face slightly blushing red.

“I agree with Balder.” She replied after her laughter died down and her blush faded. “It’s not like even our fat happy king to be out for this long. The desert holds many dangers under those dunes.”

“Though few worse than the hippogriffs,” Freya muttered as she took a seat on her throne, rubbing her temples. “Damned raiders.”

"Ha!” Balder replied boastfully. “Those desert vultures couldn’t possibly lay a claw on our mighty city, let alone father or Jottun. They’d tear them apart limb from limb.”

“And wear their bones as trophies.” Gilda added, a sly smile spread across her face. “I don’t worry about them though. Loki isn’t like one of us. He wasn’t raised a warrior with a thick skin and no fear of battle. He was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth in a practically pacifist country.”

“Don’t underestimate the Equestrians, Gilda,” Freya cautioned. “No matter how feeble they may seem, their nation has stood the test of time. Celestia and Luna especially should never be underestimated. They are kind, but never mistake kindness for weakness.”

“Mother has a point, Gilda.” Balder replied in a smooth tone. “Those Equestrians sure have their bag of…” Before he could elaborate any further, the thrones to the throne room were shoved open, a couple of shield maidens racing through them to the throne. Once they approached it, they knelt before Freya and Balder.

“My lady! My Prince!” They spoke in unison before they resumed their standing positions, with one of them resuming the conversation. “Mighty Vultan approaches the city gates! Carrying Prince Jottun in his arms and Loki on his back! I think they’ve been attacked out  in the wastes!”

Freya rose to her feet. “Prepare my chariot! I must tend to my family and guest! Fetch healers as well!”

“Yes, my lady!” The shield maidens replied unanimously before racing out of the throne room to carry out Freya’s commands.

Vultan marched on, cradling Jottun in his arms while Loki had his arms wrapped around his neck. Beads of sweat dripped from his face and his breathing became heavy as he reached closer to the gates of Yggdrasil. “Look boys!” He shouted as he pointed to the horizon. “We...we made it! Ha! I...I told you we’d be back in no time!” He let out a dry but hearty laugh. “Never...doubt….the word...of a Varangar...young Equestrian!”

“Are you alright, sir?” Loki asked in concern as he looked at the king’s state. Looking ahead, he saw a sand cloud accompanying a chariot. “Someone is coming from the city.”

Vultan gazed off into the distance to see what exactly was headed their way. He could faintly make out the shape and size of a royal chariot, a reeve at the helm. He once more laughed dryly before he fell to his knees. “That’s...my...iron...reeve.” He said, his voice sounding dry and cracked from the desert air and dehydration. “Atta...girl.” He laughed once more as the chariot approached him and the children.

As the chariot stopped, Freya jumped and ran to her husband. “What happened to you three?!” she demanded as she ushered them onto the chariot and pushed canteens into their hands before taking the reins and heading back toward the city.

Vultan eagerly tore the top off of the canteen and quickly drained his dry, coughing a bit before he spoke. “Raiders….in the wastes...killed prized steed…” He started. “Tried to kill Loki...killed all of them.”

“They were after Loki specifically?” Freya asked in concern. “How do you know?”

“One possessed a bag of Equestrian currency.” Vultan replied, still catching his breath. “Would have succeeded if not for me and our little warrior there.” He pointed to Jottun, who was quickly draining his canteen dry. “He took on one of those desert scavengers with a busted leg. I couldn’t be more proud of him.”

Freya stopped the chariot right there and looked at her son’s leg, looking it over with a critical eye. Grabbing the reins, she continued on at even greater speed. “There are healers waiting at the palace.”

“Good.” Vultan replied. “I could use a bit of a patch job myself. Can’t say the same for those hippogriffs though.” He laughed heartily as the chariot neared the city gates. “Even Loki got a shot in one one of them!” He turned his attention to Loki, who had also emptied his canteen. “Ain’t that right, my young Equestrian friend?”

“Sure is,” Loki answered with a grin. “Those raiders never stood a chance. But when have griffons and ponies come together as more than friends? Aren’t inter-species relationships frowned on?”

“A story for another day, my friend.” Vultan replied as the chariot reached the city gates. “Another day. For now, we head home. Heal and become stronger.”

Loki found himself roaming the royal halls, trying his best to keep himself entertained as Vultan and Jottun were being tended to by the healers. His first stop was the armory, where he alleviated boredom by fiddling with the suits of armor and weapons, for all of five minutes before he was shooed out by one of the shield maidens. Looking for another means of entertainment, he found himself in the halls of paintings and statues he first came across week’s earlier. As he gazed at each marble king and great painting depicting great battles, one in particular caught his wandering eye. By far this painting was the largest in the gallery and fitted into a gold frame. It depicted a lone griffon warrior aiming a solid black arrow at a large, pale lizard like beast, swinging a huge mace.

“I see you’ve found our most valued national treasure,” Freya said as she walked up next to Loki. “The portrait of Sigurd, first king of the Varangar Empire, slaying the dragon Avrea with a Black Arrow.”

Loki jumped back a bit at the unexpected company he had received. “Oh, it’s you.” He replied before he composed himself and politely bowed. “Your Majesty.”

“Please. There’s no need for formality, my child,” Freya said with a warm smile. “Would you like to hear the story of how this empire came to be?”

“Yes!” Loki replied, almost bouncing from excitement before he took a deep breath and centered himself. “I mean, yes. I’m very interested in hearing how your nation came into existence.”

Freya chuckled. “Such youthful energy. Very well.” She looked at the portrait. “In ages long past, back when magic still permeated the world, the griffons were divided among many tribes. Always bickering, always fighting. It seemed as though we would never become more than primitive, tribalistic raiders. But then the dragons attacked our lands. We were forced by necessity to fight together against this new threat. And during the final battle, all but one of the tribe leaders were slain.” She smiled in pride. “When all hope seemed lost, Sigurd, the chief of the Varangar tribe, faced the dragon king Avrea in single combat. The battle they waged was said to have lasted for days, but it finally ended when Sigurd, having knocked loose a scale on Avrea’s chest, fired a black arrow into the chink in his foe’s armor, piercing the dragon’s heart.”

Freya raised her fist to her chest. “When the dragons saw their leader fall to the ground dead, they broke ranks and fled back into their mountains, and the griffons rallied around Sigurd, pledging their fealty to him, and naming him their king. On that day, the griffon tribes died, and in their place was born a nation that rose to become a mighty empire.” She smiled at Loki. “Since that day, we have called ourselves the Sons and Daughters of Sigurd. We are respected and feared by all, because Sigurd’s Folk do not flee from battle.”

Loki didn’t respond for many minutes, his eyes gleaming with awe as he stared at the portrait. “That’s amazing.” He finally spoke up after shaking himself out of his trance. “I can’t believe he took on a dragon all by himself. Most ponies wouldn’t even set foot near one, let alone fight them.”

Freya laughed a good natured laugh that echoed down the hall. “Your people have had it easy. Out here in the deserts we griffons had to do whatever was necessary to survive.”

“So that’s why you planted the tree cities.” Loki responded, turning his attention to meet Freya’s gaze.

“Yes,” Freya answered with a nod. “Each tree was planted at the founding of the city it holds, and Yggdrasil is the oldest of them all, planted on the very spot where Avrea’s body fell.”

Loki’s gaze quickly turned to the wooden floor on which he stood. He sheepishly took a few steps back until he bumped into the stone spear of one of the statues. “Ouch!” He yelped, clasping his hands on his lower back, checking for any sign of bleeding.

Freya chuckled as she checked Loki over. “You’re fine. And worry not. Avrea’s body has long decomposed. I doubt even his bones remain.”

Loki blushed in embarrassment as Freya inspected him. His eyes couldn’t help but wander over her curvy and toned frame, paying special attention to her chest. “Th..thank you, your highness.” Loki stammered as he turned his gaze away from her.

Freya noticed where he had been looking and chuckled. “See something you like, you little pervert? I’m flattered, but you should look to girls your own age.” She gave him a teasing light flick on the nose.

The blush on Loki’s face turned a darker shade of red as he turned his gaze to the floor. “I...I’m...I’m sorry, mad’am.” He replied, tripping over himself. “I...I...I didn’t....didn’t mean too. It….it was...was impolite of me….sorry. Sorry.”

“Loki,” Freya said as she put her hand on his head. “You’re a young, healthy boy. It’s perfectly natural for you to look at girls. Especially attractive, mature specimens like me. Trust me, even married tiercel have had their gazes drawn by my presence.”

“But Vultan is your mate,” Loki rebutted, nervously twiddling his fingers. “Mother always taught me it’s wrong to gaze at married mares that way.”

“That does sound like Luna,” Freya said with a grin. “But I’m not a mare, am I? And I’ve long accepted the effect my body has on males, so I live by a simple rule in that regard: look, but don’t touch.”

Loki lifted his gaze from the floor, slowly taking in more of Freya’s figure until her once more met her gaze. He felt a warm liquid running down his lip. Instinctively wiping it away, he looked at his hand to see what it was. The smeared liquid was crimson red in color. The realization very quickly hit him; it was blood.

Freya laughed at the sight. “Am I truly so beautiful that it causes you to have a nosebleed, Loki?”

Loki didn’t respond, his attention completely drawn to the blood smear on his hand. He switched gazes between Freya and the blood, before he felt light headed and fell backwards.

Freya giggled and gently picked the poor boy up, carrying him toward his quarters so he could lie down and get past his early brush with the effects of puberty.

Loki slowly woke in his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He blushed as he remembered passing out from the good look that Freya had generously let him have of her physique. Getting the blush under control, he turned his head and felt his face erupt in another, darker, blush when he saw Gilda reading a book naked in the chair beside his bed.

Gilda met his gaze with a sly smirk. “Hey there kid, nice to see you’re awake.” Her smirk grew wider as she noticed his crimson face. “See anything you like, little stud?” She teased, giving him a wink.

Loki stammered and blushed darker as he turned away from Gilda, staring resolutely at the wall, only to remember the full length mirror on that side, which showed him Gilda’s smirking reflection.

Gilda let loose a hearty laugh, slapping her own knee. “Relax, my young pupil.” She spoke. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen already. Figured you’d be used to it by now, Mr. Modest.”

Loki blushed darker. “I-I am used to it!” he protested even as he looked at the ceiling.

“So then explain the tissue sticking out of your nose.” Gilda slyly challenged as she crossed her leg over the other one.

“I-It’s just from a regular nosebleed!” Loki insisted, not wanting to admit he’d been knocked out by Freya’s curves.

“Uh huh,” Gilda deadpanned. “And how did you get this nosebleed exactly? Bump into a wall there, kid? Freya did carry you in here, laughing her ass off about something.”

Loki groaned at being caught. “Fine. I passed out from seeing the queen’s physique up close.”

Gilda once more laughed, this time having to hold her sides together as she fell out of the chair and onto the floor. As her laughter died down, she stood back up, having to lean on the chair for support, her eyes watering as she focused her gaze back to Loki. “Oh man! That has to be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life! She was too hot for you, little man?” Her laughter once more resumed.

Loki’s blush dominated his face as he stared anywhere but toward Gilda. “I couldn’t help it. She’s really pretty and she was really close to me.”

Gilda made her way over to Loki, still laughing as she wrapped an arm around him. “Relax, kiddo.” She replied in a reassuring tone as she held him in a tight hug. “I’m just funning with you. Why you gotta be so serious?”

Loki was stricken silent as he was hugged to Gilda’s chest. She was definitely up there with her mother-in-law. He blushed dark enough that his entire face was red from the proximity.

Gilda continued to laugh as she applied a noogie to the dumbstruck Loki before she loosed her grip on him. “You still got a long way to go, kid.” She playfully chided before getting up to leave as she brushed her tail in his face. “Get some rest my young pupil. You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“Useless idiots!” Blueblood raged as he paced around his bedroom. “Last time I hire a band of desert dwelling rodents! They couldn’t even handle a child! They’re worse than that other moron!” His face turned red and steam practically shot out of his ears as he decided to take his anger out on a few “antiques” that sat on one of his bookcases. As the shattered pieces of his gaudy knick-knacks fell to the floor, he inhaled some deep breaths to center his thoughts.

“There has to be some way I can rid myself of that brat.” He thought aloud, rubbing his hand on his chin as he pondered. “Let loose some kind of poisonous or deadly creature into his room while he sleeps? No, no that won’t work at all. Slip poison in his food or drink? No, auntie has taste testers for that situation. Perhaps I can twist his puny head all the way around? No no, I’d dare not sully my hands with that filthy little creatures blood.” He continued his pacing until he reached his window. He gazed out into the still lit walkways of Canterlot under Luna’s cover of darkness. “Perhaps pay off one of auntie’s guardsmen to kill him? No, they’d squeal like obedient little pigs to her. I need somepony more….loyal.” Soon enough he got an idea, an awful idea. A grin soon spread across his face as he got a wonderful, awful idea.