10th day of Sun's Height
455 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

Abrolhos took a drink of the awful-tasting herbal mixture she’d brought with her, trying to keep her hooves from shaking. Crystal Berry bushes were mildly poisonous, and chewing the leaves could cause paralysis or even death in weaker ponies. She used the leaves to make tea, steadying her hooves and sharpening her vision.

Part of her distantly knew it was probably slowly killing her. She didn’t care.

What she did care about right now was killing her targets, which was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. It didn’t discourage her, of course. It made things interesting. Most of her targets had been far too easy. A warlord advocating for peace with Equestria here, Zebrican shamans there, a few ponies who were getting too close to the truth.

The action in the Everfree was the most she’d seen in years.

“I must find that pegasus again,” Abrolhos muttered. “I’d love to have a duel with her. How was she so good?”

Abrolhos looked at the crystals she had standing in front of her. One showed the griffon, still in cover. The other just showed rocks and dirt. Neither of her targets seemed to have caught on that her messaging crystals reflected what their paired crystal saw.

Not that it was helping, with the big thestral. The crystal didn’t have much of a view with the way she was hiding in cover. It was time to taunt her again. Abrolhos touched the crystal showing only dirt, and it rang faintly.

“Are you just going to hide there all day?” Abrolhos asked. “It’s not much fun when my prey just sits in one spot.”

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of killer, not an impatient little girl,” the thestral said, her voice a deep growl. “What, did you run out of special arrows to shoot through rocks at me?”

“No. You’re just not important enough to use them on,” Abrolhos grinned. “I like to save them for difficult prey. I don’t want you to die that quickly. I just want to have some fun!”

“You won’t be having much fun when I cut you in half,” the thestral muttered. The view from the crystal shifted, and Abrolhos watched it closely, using it to position her aim for the next shot.

“What are you planning? Waiting until dark?” Abrolhos laughed. “It won’t help. I can see in the dark, too.”

“I don’t care,” the thestral said. “I don’t need to wait until dark. I already know exactly where you are.”

Abrolhos froze for a moment. It was impossible. There was no way for the pony to have spotted her. She was perfectly hidden. It had to be a bluff.

“You’re a terrible liar,” the sniper said. “You don’t have any idea where I am. And the moment you come out, you’re going to have a bolt going right through your empty head.”

“I don’t think so,” the thestral said. “I think I know how you operate now. You’re completely reliant on all of your tricks and your gear and your traps. You couldn’t fight me for real if your life depended on it. And it’s going to.”

“I’m one of the greatest killers to ever live,” Abrolhos hissed.

“Sure you are. Just like that idiot with the iron feathers in that prison camp. He was pretty tough until I beat enough dents into his skull.”

“Brise?” Abrolhos asked.

“I think that was his name. He said he was a member of your stupid little club too. And now he’s dead. But you know what the last thing he said was?”

“What?”

The thestral mumbled something. Abrolhos frowned and turned up the gain on the crystal.

“What did he say?! Speak clearly!”

“He said-” and then the thestral screamed so loudly that the crystal actually started vibrating, falling over as it shook itself free from where Abrolhos had stuck it into the dirt. She winced, covering her ears and cursing, hitting the crystal and cutting the scream off.

She moment she took her hooves off of her crossbow, she realized she’d made a mistake. The scream echoed from the rocks around her. She grabbed for her crossbow again, cursing her stupidity. Abrolhos took quick aim at where the thestral had been and fired, the bolt exploding as it hit the rock, cracking it apart.

There wasn’t anything on the other side.

Abrolhos’ eyes went wide, and she grabbed for the crystal. There was movement and she could see-

Herself. From above.

Abrolhos fell back, just as a huge dark shape slammed down where she had been lying prone. The thestral glared at her, stalking towards her.

“I had a pretty good idea of where you were,” the thestral said. “My hearing isn’t the best, but I’m still a thestral. Echolocation comes along with the wings and, well, here I am explaining myself when I was complaining about you being chatty.” She smiled, showing fangs. Abrolhos was pretty sure thestrals weren’t supposed to have fangs like that.

“You’re right,” Abrolhos said, grabbing under her cloak and pulling out a smaller bow, a repeating crossbow with a large hopper. She pumped the lever in the back, firing a flurry of bolts at the big pony.

The smaller crossbow lacked the force of her main weapon, but the darts it fired slowed the thestral down, the pony knocking a few aside but yelling in pain as others dug into her shoulder, the barbed heads painfully tearing at her flesh.

“I’m no one-trick pony,” Abrolhos said. “Unlike Brise.”

“Shut up!” The thestral roared and charged her, shielding her face with a wing. Abrolhos fired again, bolts deflecting from the thestral’s wingblade.

She couldn’t stop it. Abrolhos lowered her crossbow, closing her eyes and accepting her fate.

Every step was agony. Three legs, one broken, one impaled by a javelin, and one sore from having to do all the work for the others. Darts in her shoulder, holes in her wing, burns, bruises, and scrapes.

Why couldn’t she ever get into an easy fight? Every time she ended up fighting, it seemed like it was against a stronger and stronger set of opponents.

But despite the pain, she was keeping control. It would have been easy to slip and fall, become a monster for a while, go to the place where it didn’t hurt and it didn’t matter whose blood was spilled. Her blood. Her enemy’s blood. Her friend’s blood.

Going there meant losing herself, though.

She slashed, aiming for the small crossbow the sniper was using. Her blade cut right through the wood, the string snapping. The edge sliced into the crystal pony’s leg, blood spraying into the air as she stumbled back.

“No more tricks,” Pallas said. She batted the pony away, the crystal mare grabbing at her wounded leg.

“You feathering…” Abrolhos said, groaning. “You cut me! Even Chinook never cut me!”

“Maybe he should have,” Pallas said, limping towards her and kicking her, ignoring the pain as she slapped her across the face with her broken hoof hard enough to make the sniper spit up blood. “Now, you’re going to tell me all about this plan.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Abrolhos said, glaring up at Pallas. “I’m not nearly done yet!” She pulled at her cloak, throwing it into Pallas’ face, the surface changing from a blurry copy of the rocks around them into a dazzling, clashing field of moving colors, blinding her with flashing light.

Pallas cursed, trying to pull the cloak away from her face. She got a grip on the fabric and threw it aside, just in time to see Abrolhos turning her huge crossbow, aiming it at point-blank range.

Everything seemed to slow down. Pallas had no time to move. Abrolhos pulled the trigger.

A dark shape appeared between them. There was a wet sound of steel hitting flesh.

The old griffon warked loudly as he fell to the ground, the javelin jammed into his chest. He fell to the ground.

“Old bird!” Pallas yelled, running to his side and kneeling. The griffon gasped for air, back legs kicking as he struggled, blood running into the dirt.

“Damnit, girl…” he groaned. “Don’t turn your back on an enemy!” He grabbed the gourd at his side and throwing it past Pallas. It impacted Abrolhos’ skull, shattering.

Abrolhos sputtered as the wine soaked her, shaking her head to clear it from her face. There was a sudden horrible feeling of wrongness, and she fell to the ground. She tried to get up, but something was wrong. She couldn’t feel her legs.

She opened her eyes, despite the stinging feeling of the wine.

She was upside-down, looking at something. A crumpled form, glittering in the light. It took her a moment to understand what she was looking at. Then she saw the cutie mark on its flank, and it suddenly clicked. She was looking at a headless corpse. Everything started to go black, and she closed her eyes, content that she’d still accomplished her mission in the end.

“Don’t die on me, old bird,” Pallas growled, shaking the griffon.

“My name ain’t old bird,” he mumbled. “And I ain’t dead. Just dying.”

“Well stop it!” Pallas said. “I still need to learn from you!”

The old griffon grunted and sat up, holding his chest with a talon. “I don’t got much of a choice. This went right through my lung. I’ll be dead pretty soon no matter what you do, and drowning in my own blood isn’t gonna be terribly fun.”

“I’ve been hurt worse than that and I didn’t die,” Pallas said.

“That’s because you’re some kinda freak, girl,” the griffon said. “I gotta say, after these last few days, I’m sure of it. You’re stronger an’ tougher than you’ve got any right to be.”

“I’m a warrior.”

“You’re closer to a monster,” the griffon chuckled, coughing up blood. “Look, I taught you a little, you’re gonna have to figure out the rest. You managed to keep your cool this time, which is good since she would have killed you straight up dead.”

“Shut up,” Pallas mumbled. “I’m gonna pull this out of you, then we’ll patch up the hole.” She grabbed the shaft of the bolt with her teeth.

“Stop it!” the griffon yelled, kicking her. “That’s keeping me from bleedin’ out! You rip that out and I’ll be dead in seconds.” He paused. “Tartarus, maybe I should let you. This is startin’ to hurt worse than I expected.”

Pallas let go, rubbing her eyes with a hoof.

“What, you’re sad now?” The griffon laughed. “I thought you hated me!”

“I do,” Pallas mumbled. “I was supposed to beat you.”

“Sorry. You’ve got something more important to do, though.” He groaned, trying to get up and failing. “Damn. Go and find your Princess Luna. I heard some of what she said, and it sounds to me like you have to save her flank.”

“I can’t just leave you,” Pallas said, scraping at the ground with her hoof.

“Fine, then you can stay here until I finish dying,” the griffon grumbled. “I always thought I’d die alone. Guess I don’t mind doing it with my biggest, dumbest student holding my talon.”

“I’m not holding your talon,” Pallas retorted.

“Just goes to show you we don’t always get what we want,” the griffon laughed. “Hey, since you’re here, mind listening to my final requests? I’ve got two. One’s pretty easy. The others are gonna be a mite harder.”

Pallas nodded.

“Good. We’ll start with the hard one. I want you to put my father in his place,” the old bird coughed. “You were probably planning on it anyway.”

“Tracking down some shriveled old griffon shouldn’t be hard if he’s even older than you,” Pallas said.

“He’s pretty easy to find,” the old griffon laughed. “Pretty sure most griffons can point you towards Zephyranthes.”

Pallas blinked. “Your father is the Emperor?”

“Yeah,” the griffon said. “And an asshole. As you might have figured out already, since he sent that feathering mercenary to kill me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I failed him,” the griffon sighed. “He put me in charge of the invasion of Equestria, and I screwed it up. Not that we had any real chance to begin with. Overextended, with no supply lines and no support. Doomed before we even landed.”

“You’re the one who did it?!” Pallas growled.

“And you hate me for it,” the griffon shrugged. “I was doing my duty. It doesn’t matter if it was right or wrong. The difference between them changes from day to day. A professional soldier never brings that into the mission. Politics are fickle, they change with the times. So long as we remain loyal to our countries, soldiers like us need nothing to believe in.”

“My parents are dead because of you!” Pallas yelled, slapping him.

“Feel free to kill mine in return,” the griffon grumbled. “I never liked the idea of invading Equestria, but it was what I was ordered to do, and I tried to do as good a job as I could, for the sake of our soldiers.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Pallas growled.

“Good, because that was the other favor I was going to ask,” the griffon said. “Drowning in my own blood ain’t how I wanted to go out.”

Pallas grabbed the bolt in his chest with her teeth, and the griffon nodded and braced himself, screaming as she tore it free, blood spraying into the air.