Chapter 25

A week and a half had passed, and the griffons had all but run themselves into the ground. Alan, meanwhile, had mostly recovered, while he highly doubted that Ironclaw could say the same.

He stood on the brow of the Ira, angry red closed cuts on his legs peeking through his fur, but otherwise healthy.

Twilight stood next to him.

“Hey there,” she said, in a rather seductive tone.

Alan raised an eyebrow and gave her a look. “Really? Now?”

“What?” she asked.

“We’re about to go into a prisoner exchange.”

“So? Since when did that mean I can’t try and be more attractive?”

Alan smiled as a silver mana-hand pushed her close to him, their sides touching. “Twilight, the world could end, and you’d still be attractive.”

She blushed before elbowing him. “Charmer...” she muttered.

Another hand materialized behind her, and began to scratch the back of her ear.

She tried to stifle a moan of pleasure as her eyes rolled back in her head and she practically melted into Alan’s side.

He chuckled to himself before the hand faded from existence.

“No fair,” she mumbled.

“Life’s not fair,” Alan answered, kissing her forehead. “Example: I definitely don’t deserve you, and yet, here you are.”

She smiled.

The week they had spent recovering they had also spent talking. A lot.

Alan had told her what he expected in a relationship, and Twilight told him that it was acceptable, and then gave her expectations. Alan agreed to these and then they spent the next six days and fourteen hours hugging, kissing and reading aloud to the other.

Alan held her close for a few more minutes before saying, “I need to get ready.”

“I know,” she answered, before kissing Alan’s cheek. “I’ll see you down there.”

Alan let her go, although he was already regretting it, but he nonetheless began to work his way towards the back of the ship.

As he walked down the length of the deck, he went through his plan for the day. He would go down there, under the flag of truce, and would negotiate the release of the Prince and Shieldhide for his ponies.

After he had been admitted into the medical bay, Fluttershy had approached him, after walking in on a kiss session, which, admittedly looked a lot worse than it was...

Anyway, through a blush and a stutter, the Medic General had said that one of the prisoners had informed her of something. Apparently, the second offensive by the griffons was an attempt to retrieve the Prince.

Alan then ordered the ships to follow the griffons, and prepare the prisoners for an exchange. He hoped that upon the Prince’s release, the griffons would agree to leave peacefully, and they could all call it a war and be done with it.

As Alan got closer to the Captain’s Quarters, he suddenly found himself flanked by another white unicorn. “Hey there, Al,” Shining said.

“Uh...Hi, Shining...” Alan answered, not making eye contact.

“I’ve been wanting to talk with you,” he said.

Oh gosh...Alan stopped before turning his head. “Yes?”

Shining gave him a deadpan stare. “Look, I like you. You’ve got a good attitude, you’ve had my back, and you and my sister go well together. I’m fine with you dating her. Perfectly fine. I’d much rather prefer you dating her than anypony else I know, but let’s make one thing perfectly clear. You break her heart, and you’re going to find out how airtight I can make my shields. Got it?”

Alan nodded. “So you really have nothing against me dating Twilight?”

“As long as her heart stays in one piece.”

“Well...I hope that it won’t be a problem...”

“Good,” Shining said curtly.

“Right...”

An awkward silence filled the air.

“So how’s your hoof doing?” Alan asked.

“Doing much better now, actually,” Shining replied, eagerly taking the new subject, “I’ll be back with you on the ground in no time.”

“Still watching my back, I hope,” Alan said.

Shining grinned. “Well...I may aim for you once or twice...but you are my boss...”

“So definitely trying to kill me then?”

The two white unicorns shared a laugh. “Hey, stay safe down there, for real this time.”

“Will do, see ya, Armor,” Alan answered, raising a hoof.

Shining met it with his own.

As the Captain of the Guard headed back to the helm, the Pendragon entered his room.

The dark room welcomed him, eagerly eating his form. His white body barely stood out in the room, and his eyes spotted the light streaming from behind the closed curtains.

On one side of the room lay his unused bed, an actual bed rather than the cots of his soldiers, and thus the answer as to why it was unused. On the other side of the otherwise bare room was a full length mirror.

There, opposite the door, was a desk, filled with several maps, inks, parchments and quills. On the left of the desk, were his armor and sword, hanging on a mannequin. His duster, ruined by the attack he had fallen victim to, had been put in Rarity’s chest until she could fix it. To the right of the desk hung the Pendragon’s Banner, the ebony field and the silver dragon.

White on black. Day and night. Gold and silver. Sun and moon. These were the colors of harmony it seemed. Gold hooves, white coat, black mane, silver mana. He was made a pony of both day and night.

Both Celestia’s and Luna’s.

Twilight’s, he thought with a smile.

He briefly wondered if they had been planning it, as he donned his golden armor. Had they been matchmaking this whole time, or was it all just incredible coincidence?

Fitting the chestpiece on, he slung the baldric over his shoulder, before checking his form in the mirror.

He frowned. Too much sun.

The white and gold stood out far too much.

He needed more night.

He glanced about the room again before his eyes fell on the banner.

Well...

“It’ll have to do,” he mumbled before walking out of the room.

Ironclaw’s army stood in a straight line.

They stood on the northern ridge of Trample Valley, a long, wide depression in the earth that sat somewhere between Appleloosa and Dodge Junction. The valley ran east to west, far north of the Macintosh Hills, but still deep in the arid desert of Equestria. The hot east wind constantly blasted the valley, leaving it barren and empty. A single bush on the south side desperately clung to life, a small brown bramble against the sand.

Of course, if the ponies charged, all of its efforts would be in vain.

The ponies stood on the southern ridge, their eyes and armor gleaming in the bright daylight. The griffons had quickly set up their Manticores, and the airships both had all of their guns pointed at the northern ridge.

The wind rustling through the solitary bramble’s leaves was the only sound in the valley.

The noonday sun shone high overhead as four figures from the southern ridge descended into the valley. Two of the figures were ponies, one a unicorn mare with a bright yellow coat and lime green mane, bearing a flag on her back, the white flag of truce. The other equine was none other than the Pendragon, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight.

The remaining figures were griffons, their wings obviously bound. The opposing army only knew one, many did not recognize the rest. The one was the Prince.

A rumble of murmurs flowed through the northern ridge. Was that the Prince? He was alive? Could they finally go home?

Ironclaw simply sat there in silence.

He’s not dead!? his mind panicked. These ponies have no qualms about murdering us on the field, but then suddenly grow hearts when they meet a wounded puppy!? They open up portals to Oblivion but won’t kill their prisoners!?

He silently fumed, his talons falling to the ground in a nervous habit. This...this was bad.

Really bad.

Everything else was a walk in the palace gardens compared to this.

He always had the opportunity to kill the king. He was stupid and getting up in years and almost all of the nobles were waiting for the fool to croak, but the Prince...

The Prince was loved. He had inherited none of his fathers brains, but all of his charisma. The charming wit of the prince had almost won over even Ironclaw’s followers.

That’s why the Prince had to die first.

If the Prince was dead, the country would not be suspicious of the death of the mourning king. Some would even expect it. But if the King died and then the Prince, someone would smell a rat.

And there he was. Just standing there.

Alive.

I...I need to do something...I...I...

This needed to be fixed.

And so, with a hesitant step forward, Ironclaw went to meet the Pendragon.

The Generals met on the field, under the white banner held aloft by Kiwi Tart.

“It is good to see you again, Uncle,” the Ironblood said to his uncle.

Ironclaw said nothing.

“Ironclaw,” Alan greeted.

“Pendragon,” Ironclaw grumbled. The Griffon general was now sporting an eyepatch over his left eye.

The two leaders glared at each other.

“I understand you came here to retrieve your nephew,” Alan stated.

“That is correct.”

“I also understand you have some of my ponies as prisoners.”

“That is correct.”

“I would then propose a prisoner exchange,” Alan said.

Ironclaw looked him in the eye. “Very well,” he said before turning and heading back to the northern ridge.

As he approached his ranks, a dozen situations ran through his head. He could not kill his nephew, not with all of these witnesses. He could not risk the Prince surviving today. He had to die, and the ponies had to be the one to kill him.

I have no choice.

As he came up to to his soldiers he quickly found a griffon and gave him an order. “Bring out the prisoners.

“Yes, sir,” the griffon answered, and was about to turn when Ironclaw spoke again.

“On my signal, kill them.”

The griffon blinked. “Y-yes, sir.”

Dewey Decimal, Vanhoover librarian, stood tall and proud. His hooves were in chains, his horn was locked in a tight shackle, the pressure strong enough to keep him from casting. His brown fur poked out from the iron chains and golden armor he still wore. A grim smile on his face as his blue eyes glinted in the sunshine.

He was going to die.

He along with the other twenty-five prisoner ponies were going to die.

But Faust curse him if he wasn’t going to die proud.

His friends had always said that he had a flair for the dramatic. They always told him that he spent too much time reading classical literature. Too much time reading about knights and chivalry. But here, finally here, it would mean something.

Here, he would die with pride and defiance. Here he would go down with courage. His Unicornian ancestors would look down from the mountains of Paradise with pride. He would climb the great soul-cliffs and join his father, and his father before him.

He would have honor.

“A-aren’t you...afraid?” he heard someone next to him ask. His eyes fell on the griffon that was to be his executioner.

He was young, with bright green eyes, and blue tipped feathers.

“Why would I be?” Dewey asked.

The griffon blinked, shifting nervously and obviously uncomfortable. “Y-you’re going to die.”

“So?” the unicorn asked. “Death holds no fear over me.”

The griffon blinked.

“I don’t think it even hold fear over you,” he said before looking ahead.

“What do you mean?”

“You do not truly fear death. You fear pain. Death leads to Paradise or Hanorlan or what have you. You fear the moments before it. The agonizing pain and suffering you’ll have to go through before the moment of release from the mortal coil.” Dewey looked the griffon in the eye. “I do not fear death, and I will not be mastered by pain.”

The griffon’s lower beak quivered.

They stood in silence for a moment.

“What’s your name, boy?” Dewey asked.

“Bladechanter. John Bladechanter, sir.”

“Well, Bladechanter, can I make a request?”

“What, sir?”

“Make it quick.”

“What are they doing?” The yellow-coated unicorn asked, voicing the question that was going through all of their heads.

Alan said nothing as he watched the twenty-six ponies being lined up in front of the griffon army.

Something was wrong.

He didn’t know what, but he knew something was wrong.

And then, twenty-six griffons stood forward, and with a single move, executed them.

Most of the ponies fell quickly, dying instantly as claws carefully moved to the vital points on the body, others however...

A handful of ponies clung to their throats as blood spilled from their split necks, their eyes looking up at their Pendragon one last time.

Alan met their looks.

He watched as his soldiers died before his waking eyes. The pain and fear in their gaze pierced his soul.

Prince Ironblood paled next to the white unicorn.

One of first lessons he had learned in his studies of combat was prodding the enemy. Manipulating him into an action you wanted.

What his uncle just did only had one outcome.

Retaliation.

Gulping, his eyes drifted to the form of the Pendragon.

The unicorn was shaking.

“Talius...” the Prince whispered.

“Yes, your Highness?” Shieldhide answered.

“If ever I feared for my life under the Pendragon, it would be now.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

Alan shook with fury, his vision going red as he singled out Ironclaw.

Nothing mattered except for that one griffon, nothing mattered but his death. He brought this war to Equestria. He hurt his friends. He killed his prisoners without honor.

For a brief moment, the white of Alan’s eyes turned a neon green while his irises went red.

He left Pipsqueak fatherless.

Fatherless.

That word seemed to echo in his brain as he stood there.

Then Alan moved.

One second, he was standing there, stock still, the next, Judgement had swung through the air, slicing the banner that held the flag in half.

Poor Kiwi Tart hadn’t even noticed until the blow sailed over her head, and she dropped to the floor in fear.

“Justice!” Alan yelled at the top of his lungs, his new battle cry echoing off the valley walls.

Before anyone else could move, Alan had already charged. His golden hooves slammed into the ground, sending up clouds of dust as his eyes locked onto the opposing General.

Ironclaw took one look in those eyes, one look into the Pendragon’s eyes, and then he knew fear. “Manticores! Fire!” he cried.

The two siege crossbows whirred to life as the griffons began turning cranks. Bolts began to fire on the Pendragon as he ran, digging into the ground as he ran past.

“Justice!” Alan cried again, a silver glow surrounding Judgement’s edge. A bolt came sailing at him, and as though it were in slow motion, Alan brought his sword to its head. The silver glow around Judgement’s edge flashed as the iron arrowhead split down the middle, the oak shaft soon followed, cut in two by the nanometer-thick magick edge Alan had placed.

“Fire!” Ironclaw roared again.

Alan danced amongst the arrows, each seemed to lazily fly at him as he charged.

Stage Three was in full effect.

“Fire you miserable—”

He couldn’t even finish his statement as Alan leaped, jumping over the nearest Manitocre, his golden armor shining in the sun.

He seemed to hang there, his eyes burning with fury as the operating griffons looked on in fear.

And then Alan came down. Judgement flashed, and griffons lost heads, wings, and limbs as they met the Pendragon’s anger. In almost no time at all, the operators were either dead or dying, and a silver hand took the crank of the machine.

Alan leaped off the machine, his mind quickly taking in the rotating platform the Manticore was stationed on, and gave it a powerful buck.

The Manticore turned, and as it did, the silver hand began to crank. Suddenly, the griffon ranks were filled with flying bolts of their own design, and many went down.

“Justice!” Alan roared.

“Bring him down!” Ironclaw ordered.

As the griffons began to move, hoping to swarm the lone pony, there was suddenly a much louder cry coming from the south.

“Ya Ya Huley!”

Those who decided to turn their heads toward the sound found themselves facing a charging waves of angry ponies.

Ancestors help them.

Rarity and Spike both watched, their mouths hanging open. “Did they just...?” Spike began.

“I think they did...” Rarity said.

Spike’s clawed hands gripped the railings. “It’s wrong,” he said.

Rarity nodded. “It is, dear.”

Spike flared his wings. “I’m going down there,” he said.

“I’m going with you,” Rarity said as the diamonds on her coat detached and began to form two katana-like blades.

“Rarity, I think it’s best if you stay up here,” Spike began.

The unicorn turned to him.

Spike instantly recognized that look.

That was her I’m-going-to-do-this-and-you-aren’t-going-to-stop-me look.

A part of him wanted to argue, to tell her to stay there and wait for him.

As if he was going to win that fight.

“Fine,” he grumbled, picking her up and holding her in one arm. “But you better stay close.”

An hour had passed.

A full hour.

And in that hour, the griffons had seen more horrors than they thought existed on the Equestrian shore.

First, there was the Pendragon. He moved like something they had never encountered before, he was bloodthirsty and ruthless. One griffon even claimed that he had seen the unicorn take a bite out of a griffon’s neck. That sword of his was never still, and when he wasn’t screaming his battlecry, his lips went to that horn.

The call of the horn had flooded their minds with images so frightening, that many griffons froze in place.

Not far behind the Pendragon, was a monster of a pony. He towered over the others, and his strikes would send griffons airborne. His coat was red, many rumored that he colored it with the blood of his enemies.

Third, there was that lavender unicorn, the one that had opened the door to Oblivion. Her magic flew through the air, doing damage that no one else could truly understand.

Fourth came the white unicorn who bore two large sabers made of diamond. The gemstone blades sliced through metal with ease, and the pony herself moved with a terrible grace.

Of course, the fact that she was being guarded by an honest-to-goodness dragon also told them not to mess with her.

Then there was a stallion and mare, who, working in perfect harmony, were able to attack at long range with the mare’s deadly chain, and up close with the stallion’s hammer.

Finally, above them, any griffon that tried to take flight was met with either a blast of their rocket fire or the Equestrian Air Force, and neither was something to be faced.

A full hour of this.

It’s amazing they had lasted this long.

“Run! Run for your lives!”

And they did.

All of them.

It was too much, all of it was just too much.

They ran east, heading back to the coastline.

No one was staying for this.

The griffons had retreated.

They were running so fast they left their carts.

But Alan was still angry.

“Alan! Alan calm down!” Twilight called.

Immediately after the Pendragon had charged, Julius and Talius had both been moved back to the Vindicta.

And now Alan was on the same boat.

“Alan! Stop! Think!” Twilight begged.

Alan’s eyes locked onto the Prince’s form.

“Pendragon, calm down, please, let’s talk this over a game of chess,” The Prince said, doing his best to sooth the incoming leader.

The fact that he still had Judgement out was not comforting.

“Alan!”

Talius jumped in front of the Prince, eager to protect his master, only for a silver hand to grab him by the throat. “Grhk!” was the only thing he managed to say before he was dragged to the side.

“Pendragon,” Julius began again, only for another hand to catch his throat.

He was roughly pushed backwards into the wall at the back of the ship, and Judgement hovered before his neck. “Promise me,” Alan seethed. “Promise me his head!”

Julius choked.

“Alan, stop it!” Twilight said, shoving into him.

Alan did not stop. “Promise me!”

The Prince struggled, his talons gripping at the magical hand. “W-whatever...whatever you...want...”

“Alan you’ll kill him!” Twilight said again.

Nothing.

A seemingly unending second passed.

And then, the Prince was slowly lowered back on his feet.

Judgement fell to the floor with an empty clang.

Alan stood there for a moment, his lip quivering before he fell. His eyes shut, tears streaming down his face as he wept at the feet of the Prince.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The mana hands vanished. As they did, Talius was quick to jump up, and barreled for the Pendragon in an attempt to protect his master.

He was stopped by the prince lifting his talon.

Talius slowed to a stop, and Twilight held her breath.

The Prince lay down next to Alan, and held him in a manly hug, “I’m sorry too, my friend. I’m sorry too.”

“They shouldn’t have died!” Alan wailed.

The griffon nodded. “None of them should have.”

Twilight’s face softened, and she gave her coltfriend a nuzzle. “Come on, Alan, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed.”

Alan stood, still crying over the execution of his soldiers, and was led away.

The Prince then stood, before turning to Shieldhide. “Talius, my friend, I have an order for you.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“I want you to aid the Pendragon in any way you can. Give him any intelligence on any tactic or situation he finds himself in.”

Talius blinked. Aiding the enemy? “Your Highness?”

“Something tells me that if we are to live, the Pendragon must win. Your orders from my father were to protect me. My order to you is to keep us alive, even if that means aiding our original enemy.” The Prince’s eyes went to the horizon. “I believe it is time to repay the Pendragon’s kindness in full.”

Alan lay on his bed, tears still streaming from his eyes, as Twilight did her best to scratch him behind the ears to calm him down. Even with her own mana hands it was far less effective.

“It’s my fault,” he whimpered. “It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault Alan,” Twilight consoled.

“It is! If I never came here this would have never happened. You would all have gone along living your lives with all of the stories and episodes, but now I’ve ruined it!”

“Alan...”

“Pipsqueak is going to grow up without a father! No-nopony should have to live with that! And what about those soldiers? Were they fathers? Did they have families? Are there now twenty-six more orphans in the world?”

“Alan...”

“I...I shouldn’t be here...”

“Alan, look at me.”

He gazed up at her.

She kissed him.

“I love you, Alan. I love you so very much, and the thought of not having you here hurts.” She kissed him again. “I don’t want to live in that world. I want to live in this one, with you, and I never, ever, want you to leave.”

Alan gave her a smile, tears still in his eyes. They nuzzled each other, and kissed again.

“But the next time I tell you to calm down, you better calm down, or I’m going to kick you in the family jewels.”

The griffons flew straight for the boats.

Ironclaw let them. He had lost all control over them, there was nothing he could do. They were moving as fast as they could away from the thrice-cursed soil of Equestria, never to return again.

Ironclaw let them go.

All he could hope for was the Pendragon had killed his nephew.

Everything else didn’t matter.

Besides, he didn’t want to stay either.

Dawn rose the next day, and Alan sat behind his desk. “Scouts are reporting that the griffons are booking it for their ships near the swamps. They don’t seem too interested in sticking around,” Dash reported.

Alan nodded. “Flutters.”

“We have a total of 324 injured,” Fluttershy reported. “156 ponies, 168 griffons. Of the ponies, 75 are seriously injured and need to be moved to a more stable area to recover. For the griffons, only 23 are seriously injured.”

Alan nodded again. “Pinkie.”

“Ammo stores are at 94% capacity, sir!”

“Good, good. Anypony else?” Alan asked.

Neither Applejack, Rarity, or Twilight said anything. Silver, Spike, and Shining stood nearby.

“Alright then,” Alan said, standing. “Twilight, what are your thoughts?”

“It’s a good plan...I’d just like to know more about what we’re getting into.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Alan answered.

The door opened, and in stepped a pair of ponies. One was one of Shining’s guards, the other was the very familiar silent giant, Big Mac.

Between them, stood Talius Shieldhide.

“Sir!” the guard said, saluting, “This griffon wishes to speak with you.”

“Thank you, soldier,” Alan said before addressing the griffon. “Shieldhide, what can I do for you?”

The griffon stood forward. “Sir Pendragon, my Prince, Julius Ironblood, believes that yesterday was an attempt to have himself killed at pony hooves. He does not believe his uncle wishes for his safe return, and as such, has ordered that I help you in any way I can.”

Alan smiled. “Does that help, Twi?”

The lavender unicorn blinked. “Well that was...convenient...”

“So is the fact that the first five friends you made were the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. This universe works like that.”

Talius blinked. “Um, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but did I miss something?”

Alan spun in his chair, “Our scouts suggest that the remaining griffons are retreating back to the empire. We plan on pursuing them, and negotiating a surrender with the King.”

Talius blinked. “You’re invading the empire?”

“Not so much invading as going on a diplomatic mission with the army.”

Talius blinked.

Alan swiveled forward, looking the griffon in the eyes. “I swear to you, no civilians will be harmed. If they attack us, we will push forward and ignore them. Nothing will happen to your people or your country.”

Talius blinked. “If it were anyone else I would have walked out of the room.” He sighed, before walking forward. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

Deep in the Frozen North, beyond the Crystal Mountains, an ancient evil stirred. Two baleful, neon green eyes opened in the darkness of his prison, purple smoke trailing off of red irises. The shadow slithered in the darkness, his form growing as he seemed to engulf the blackness around him.

"Hatred," his voice a deep, monstrous growl, “Fear, my sons.”

The cavern of diamond and ice shook as he laughed.

It was good to be awake.

And a small chapter this time around, but one I’ve been waiting to write, mostly because of the next one. Which will be awesome!

“Awesome as in and ‘holy chicken scratch he just did something awesome’ or ‘that chapter was awesome, despite the fact that nothing really happened?’”

…

Just...awesome, alright? It will be awesome.

“I believe you!”

Thank you, Squiddy. Anyways, people and ponies, I want to take a quick moment to Celebrate 5,000 individual views on my first chapter, Thank you so much for your support so far, it was a pleasure to write for you, see you all next time.

“Remember to comment, fave and like if you haven’t already!”

Bye!