Dear friend,

We’ve known each other for centuries and, as always, it is I who needs something from you. It will not be easy and it might take you away from your family for some time. I wish I could arrange things myself but I’ve found myself in disagreement about this issue with the others. They say that we have more pressing problems and, in some, way I agree. Our current cold and dark situation is something Twilight has to focus all her efforts on. However, that also means it falls to us to make sure her plan isn’t threatened by any outside influences and I know of one which needs to be dealt with hastily.

I know who is responsible for the darkness and I also know that he has accomplices who are now roaming free. Needless to say, they must be found and erased. You may have heard about the prison break which happened in the Crystal Empire, that’s their doing. The best guess I have is that they’re headed to the Griffon Empire. Whether or not they’re still in Equestria is a mystery. You have contacts overseas and I will provide the money using the usual mission account. Griffons have their own problems so I doubt the Black Ops will complain too much if the EIS is working on their territory and if they do then just tell them that you’re hunting those responsible for this darkness.

The group you are looking for is exceedingly dangerous and slippery. Three changelings, a female Corrupted Protector, and a male griffon.

I’m attaching their photographs taken in the Crystal Empire. As far as we know, the striped changeling mare is an elite from the northern hive, the griffon is a very good fighter, and the Corrupted… well, the usual. We know next to nothing about the other changeling mare so be careful. Don’t be fooled by the small glowing one that’s smiling, he’s just as dangerous as the others, if not more.

Find them and bring me their heads. Use any means necessary.

For Equestria.

Griffonstone.

Unlike even Manehattan, the port city is positively bathing in light despite being eerily quiet. Granted, not all of it is coming from the houses or tall apartment buildings but all street lamps are lit, making Thirteen turn her head towards every noise in the vicinity. Armed soldiers are patrolling the mostly empty streets in pairs but so far, aside from suspicious stares, no one has stopped the group. The reason for that might be the heavy winter clothing covering each of them from head to hooves. For any observers, they’re just three ponies of vastly varying sizes and a griffon on their way through the city. Considering that Three and Thirteen had no time to recharge since the visit to Tartarus, it’s an absolute blessing because shapeshifting for long periods of time is out of the question. Harriet is leading the way because Magpie has never been in Griffonstone.

“You know, I like it here more than in Canterlot,” Thirteen breaks the silence, “It doesn’t shimmer and reflect lights like the Crystal Empire but it’s much brighter.”

“I suppose it’s because Imperial energy infrastructure is based on coal, river, and biomass power plants,” replies Magpie quietly. He’s the only one not wearing a hood, being both used to cold and not needing to hide his face, “Zebras and ponies relying completely on solar, wind, or some fusion of magic are the ones in trouble. But the lower the temperatures drop the more energy will be needed for heating instead of lights and then the GIL soldiers will start getting really paranoid.”

“GIL?” asks Three, barely audible over the scarf covering his face. In the case of older northern changelings, cold isn’t really a thing but griffons on the edge about shooting their heads off still are.

“Griffon Imperial Legion,” replies Harriet. Other than Thirteen, she’s the one feeling the cold the most, if only because she’s a little too big for her clothes, “In general, they’re the standing army and the police force in one. Very similar to the Royal, Night, Crystal, and Hex Guard branches in Equestria.”

“Simply put, yes,” adds Magpie, “But there are differences. With the size of the Empire in comparison to your tiny Equestria, GIL officers often answer to local officials rather than any one head authority. Of course, in emergencies like this, there might be some constant oversight from the Holy City itself. We should be careful because we have no idea what the rules are now. So far, though, we passed a bunch of patrols and no one bothered us so I’m guessing we’re not too far into the martial law and curfew territory. No kneeling before Zod yet.”

Harriet snickers while Three and Thirteen exchange glances.

“Who’s-?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harriet interrupts Thirteen, “Just an old griffon movie reference,” she furrows her brows, “Come to think of it, do you have movies in Equestria? I only saw a theatre play when I first arrived.”

“They do,” Magpie is the first one to respond, “Not sure about some underground hive, though.”

“We did have a cinema in Brauheim!” Three pouts at him, “Dwarves like movies about drinking and punching a lot. I liked those with Brew Sleet a lot. He yelled ‘Ayeiii!’ all the time and said some really smart things. Like… like… this one - ‘Be like molten iron. You can fill any shape, adapt to any circumstances, set things on fire, and then be made into a sword to stab a baddie with’.”

“Inspirational...” says Magpie flatly.

“What kind of movies do you like then, smartass?” asks Harriet, “It’s documentaries and adventure ones for me, personally. I loved seeing new stuff whenever the travelling merchants brought a reel to Windy.”

“Comedies,” admits Magpie in a mumble, looking away from the others.

“You?” Thirteen blinks, covering her mouth.

“Yaaay!” giggles Three.

“Look, I have enough… excitement in my normal life and reality is shit most of the time,” grumbles the griffon, “It’s nice to chill out watching someone else’s misfortune, especially because it’s fake and you know it’s going to end well.”

“You know,” Harriet smirks to herself, “That actually makes sense to me. What about you and movies, Thirteen?”

Silence.

“Thirteen?” repeats Harriet.

The changeling hangs her head.

“...never been to a cinema...”

“Whaaaaat?” exclaims Three, “How come?”

“Mom always said I had to earn it and, well… I never did,” she sighs, “Dad sometimes showed me some recordings of dwarves from the escape games we had. And he got me a radio where I could listen to plays. I liked the one about Ragnar the Magma-drinker and old dwarves.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I heard things from Gem about you guys,” says Magpie slowly, “I thought my family was a bunch of cunts but it sounds like your mother could out-asshole them all.”

Thirteen just sighs.

“Miss One is great,” says Three with a bit of hesitation, “Though I’ve never seen her act like she does around Thirteen before. It even made boss yell at her sometimes. Wait, that’s not true… Two had it a bit similar. I think miss One expects so much from her daughters she kinda… overdoes it.”

“I just wish I could at least do any of the things she wanted from me,” Thirteen sighs and changes the subject, “So, I suppose it’s more radio from me. Oh, and I liked the magma bucket challenge!”

“Do I even want to know?” asks Magpie.

“They dress a dwarf in fireproof clothes and then pour a bucket of magma on him,” explains Three.

“Will I regret asking why?” continues Magpie.

“It shows how hardcore they are to everyone!” explains Thirteen with a smile, “It can get really funny too! Once they left the magma for too long, it cooled down, and then when the dwarf poured it over himself it just dropped on him like a chunk rock.”

“Oh dear,” Harriet blinks, “Was there any lasting damage?”

“No brain damage, I assume,” Magpie rolls his eyes, “Due to an obvious lack of brain.”

“Say what you want, it was funny...” grumbles Thirteen, “Where are you leading us anyway?”

“The train station,” Magpie’s voice turns completely serious again, “Crossing the Empire on hoof would take months, not to mention how dangerous it would be. Harriet, you said you took the train on the way to Equestria, right?”

“Trains,” she corrects him, “I wanted to get across the Empire quickly so I switched them a lot. I think there was some continental express that went from one end of the Empire to the other. Well, not all the way to Windy but between Griffonstone and Wilbur’s Pass.”

“We’ll see if it’s still a thing soon,” he nods ahead towards a huge, well-lit structure looking like a half of an egg made of a mesh of metal and glass, “There’s the train station.”

It’s packed.

Hundreds of griffons are sitting or lying around solo or in groups while GIL soldiers are stationed by almost every pillar supporting the high roof, watching the area for anyone trying to steal or cause trouble. Both the soldiers and griffon as well as pony civilians give the entering group quick glances before returning to their business which seems to be staring blankly into space or quietly chatting.

“Time to take the hoods off,” whispers Magpie.

“And alert everyone to the fact that we are changelings and a Corrupted?” asks Harriet.

“If you didn’t notice, this place is fairly well heated. You hiding your faces will only make soldiers come to us anyway. Besides, how many griffons outside of Manehattan have seen a Corrupted up close, especially a friendly one who can talk?”

“And us?” asks Thirteen.

“Technically, while griffons still despise you deep down, the peace treaty with Equestria means you shouldn’t be hunted down on sight. Just don’t walk off on your own. No one would go crazy about helping you.”

“Everyone looks so… sad,” mumbles Three, taking his hood off and giving the gasping griffons around a bright and cheerful smile.

Immediately, a pair of soldiers relaxing by the station entrance tense up and head towards them with expressions that definitely don’t mirror Three’s.

“Stay where you are!” says the leading one while the other takes a pistol from a holster on his belt when Thirteen and Harriet show their faces as well.

“Like a statue, officer,” says Harriet to show that she’s not a wild Corrupted. Thirteen remains quiet, instead shuffling closer to Three.

“State your business!” the leader faces Magpie.

“Travel east.”

“Are they with you?”

“They are.”

“Why aren’t they on a leash?”

Harriet narrows her eyes.

Magpie nods to Three.

“Not dangerous,” then to Thirteen, “Youngling,” and finally to Harriet, “Citizen of the Empire.”

“From Windy,” Harriet forces a smile.

“You’re far from home,” comments the soldier.

“Yup, and I’d love to return there.”

“Too bad,” he frowns, “All non-essential transport has been suspended,” he points at the homeless griffons everywhere, “Unless you’re a soldier or material, you’re not going anywhere via the train.”

“Any idea when public travel will be reinstated?”

“Any idea when the sun will be back?” the soldier raises an eyebrow.

“I see,” Magpie sighs, “Thank you for the info, officer. Mind if we stay here for now?”

The soldier shrugs.

“Just don’t cause any trouble. Bugs don’t get a warning shot. Neither do bug lovers,” he nods to the second soldier and they both leave.

When they’re out of earshot, Magpie breathes out in relief.

“Ooookay, that went significantly better than expected.”

“Better?!” Thirteen hisses at him with surprise.

“Yes,” he faces her without flinching which makes her realize Magpie isn’t kidding.

“Oh...” she looks around, trying not to draw anyone’s stares. Strangely enough, other than the soldiers there’s almost no one paying any attention to them, “The griffons don’t seem too bothered about us.”

“Pretty sure that with the sky missing and their lives turned upside down, they have bigger problems than two goofy changelings,” Harriet pats her head, “So, what do we do now that we’re stuck here like them?”

“Let’s find ourselves a place where we can crash first,” without looking at the rest, Magpie starts heading deeper into the station, “I want to see what kinds of trains are still running.”

“But the soldier said we couldn’t get on,” says Three, trotting by Magpie’s side to keep up the pace with the griffon’s brisk walk.

“I’m not staying here, not with this many soldiers around, and we know the sun isn’t coming back any time soon,” replies Magpie.

“Do you have a coin, sir…?” croaks a completely exhausted-looking griffon, stretching out a withered foreleg.

Magpie passes him without a word. Three, on the other hole, immediately reaches to a small pouch around his neck, pulls out a single Equestrian bit, and gives it to the poor griffon.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you so much,” the griffon breathes out.

Several other begging forelegs rise up. With an unintelligible grumble, Magpie turns around, grabs Three’s ear, and starts pulling him forward.

“Ow ow ow ow ow- hey!” Three frowns at Magpie when he matches the pace again to stop the tugging, “Stop it! I just wanted to help!”

“We have a long way ahead of us and we’ll need everything Gem gave us. Besides, if you offer these guys a talon, they’ll rip off your whole leg. See?” he says quietly while nodding to the many hopeful eyes of the destitute griffons locked on Three’s pouch, “Even if you gave everything away, it wouldn’t be enough and we’d only end up like them. Don’t show you have money around here.”

“But-”

“No. Buts. Not this time!” Magpie lets Three’s ear go and heads forward again.

Three slows down a bit before scrunching his face into a deeper frown and sticking his tongue out at Magpie’s backside.

“He’s not completely wrong,” Thirteen’s mental voice rises up in his head.

Three can’t help but sigh.

“I know… but all I want is to help all these guys and I can’t! It’s biting me inside that he's trying to stop me even if he makes sense. I feel like if I start to go about things in his calculating way all the time, it will only make things even worse.”

However, there’s nothing anyone can say to stop Three from approaching a seemingly lonely little griffon who’s just staring blankly his way, not even begging or anything.

“Hi,” Three pulls out another coin, “Can I help?”

The little griffon takes it, pecks it, and shakes his head.

Magpie notices he’s pulled ahead again, rolls his eyes, and rushes back while growling to himself. He’s stopped by Harriet who shakes her head, narrowing her eyes.

“We don’t have time-”

“Time is the only thing we have,” whispers Harriet back, “How about you go look around and I keep the guys safe?”

“Fine, just stay put around here and I’ll find you,” Magpie rushes off.

“...got any food…?” the youngling mumbles, returning the coin, “...the big guys would take this from me anyway...”

Harriet and the changelings sit down by the small griffon, much to Three’s relief.

“What big guys? The soldiers let them?” asks Harriet.

“There’s so many griffons around that the soldiers can’t be everywhere,” the griffon sighs, “They just sit down to you, grab you, and if you call out they... break stuff...”

“You’re here alone?”

The griffon nods.

“My mom’s in the hospital but they didn’t let me in. A griffon stole her purse and when she fought him he stabbed her. The soldiers shot him on the spot. They said there were too many patients to let anyone else in. I haven’t seen her in a week...” he looks down at the floor and sniffles.

“Ah-hah!” Three beams after some rummaging inside his backpack and pulling out a small package, “Here,” he pokes the griffon’s beak with it.

“What’s that?” he takes it, unwraps the plastic, and carefully sniffs two bars that are inside.

“Ummm, pony food, I think,” replies Three, “But I saw mister Magpie eat one before so it must be okay for griffons too.”

“Protein bars,” explains Harriet, “I had some in Equestria. Filling but rather expensive for their size.”

“I can’t pay or any-” the griffon mumbles.

“Just take them,” Three encourages him, “I’m a changeling, so it’s not like they’re too useful for me anyway.”

“Thank you thank you thankyou th-mmphj!” the griffon shoves one into his beak mid-sentence.

Watching him demolish both bars, Thirteen takes out the ones from her own backpack and gives them to him as well.

“You look like you haven’t been eating since your mom got hurt,” she comments, eyeing the youngling.

“I… there’s an emergency kitchen where the ticket booths are. Anyone can get some soup here once per day but it’s only a little. I ran some errands for the guys who run it, delivering messages and stuff. They gave me some more food for it.”

“The Legion needs messages delivered by you?” Harriet furrows her brows. Electronic communication is the pride of the Griffon Empire and the advantage they have against Equestria.

The little guy stops chewing for a moment to shake his head.

“It’s not the soldiers. They told me to avoid the soldiers. It was easy since I’m not dangerous or anything and there are other young griffons around with their parents playing around.”

“Heh,” Three chuckles, “We’re actually trying to help a friend get back to her dad too,” he nods to Harriet, “But he lives on the other side of the Empire and the soldiers said that there are no trains for civilians.”

The griffon looks around and beckons Three to lean closer to him. When he’s sure no one else can hear him, he says:

“That’s not true.”

“Oh?” Harriet raises an eyebrow, making the griffon look up and twitch.

“Miss Harriet and Thirteen have really good ears, don’t worry about them,” Three reassures him, “So, what was it about the train?”

“I saw the guys from the kitchen let other griffons onto a freight train a few times,” he whispers, “They gave the soldiers some money and they left for several minutes.”

“Oh really…?” Harriet smirks, “Misery or not, someone’s always getting loaded. Empire, Equestria, Zebrica, profiteering is the same everywhere. What’s your name, little guy, anyway?”

“Tyris,” he replies.

“Nice to meet you, Tyris. I’m Three! She’s Thirteen, she’s miss Harriet, and the grumpy griffon who’s not here right now is mister Magpie.”

“Up close, you’re huuuuge!” Tyris’ eyes go wide.

“She’s part dragon!” says Three with excitement, “That’s why.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and her dad’s a real one!”

“Woooow!” Tyris’ beak drops.

“You don’t look scared of changelings either,” Harriet nods to Three and Thirteen.

“Everyone is scary around here. The big guys who take money from griffons, the soldiers, the shifty cooks...” he shakes his head, “You’re the only ones who didn’t tell me to scram and you even gave me these,” he waves the third, half-eaten, protein bar, “You’re cool in my book.”

“Awww, it’s a pity mister Magpie isn’t here to see-”

“To see what?” grumbles the returning griffon in question, “That you’re giving away the only lasting food we have?” he sighs, “So now we have only my rations left-”

“And mine,” adds Harriet with a strangely satisfied expression despite Magpie’s controlled fuming.

“Which still isn’t enough because we’re going to be here for who knows how long...” the griffon rolls his eyes, “The soldiers weren’t messing with us. Only military and materials are allowed on trains because the Legion has to fight off raiding parties in the south.”

“And those who pay,” Harriet gives Magpie the kind of a smug, shit-eating grin no one would think her capable of.

“What are you talking about?” Magpie glares at her.

“Three made a friend and said friend knows stuff,” she winks at him and nods to Tyris, “And all it cost were four protein bars.”

Tyris waves the final, almost eaten, bar, clearly trying to finish it before Magpie decides to take what little’s left away from him.

Magpie narrows his eyes at Three who simply gives him the brightest and widest smile he can. As a changeling, that’s not always healthy for the sanity of other creatures but Three only means it well.

“Talk!”

Three nudges Tyris who gulps down the final piece of the bar, shuffles closer to Harriet, and repeats what little he knows.

In the end, Magpie scowls.

“Fine, let’s visit those filthy, profiteering swines.”

“That’s one of the guys I saw last time,” Tyris nods towards a light brown griffon lazily stirring a huge pot that vaguely smells like soup.

“Now, if you don’t want trouble, you should go,” says Magpie, “Smugglers aren’t notoriously known for being happy about someone spreading word about them.”

Tyris looks at Harriet who nods. Understanding that it’s serious, the little griffon immediately rushes out of the makeshift mess hall set up in the center of the train station.

“Bye, Three! Bye, miss Harriet!” he says quietly and waves. For show, Harriet lets her tentacle tongues slip out and wave back which completely steals the show from Three’s waving.

Magpie walks past the long queue of griffons waiting for their rations, stops in front of the counter, and faces the pointed out ‘cook’ who returns his gaze.

Magpie reaches into his backpack and shows the griffon a singular diamond, turning it around and letting it catch light before hiding it again, this time into a pocket of his jacket.

“I don’t think this is the place for you, sir,” says the cook.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Magpie nods, “Which is why I’d like to be a long way east of here.”

“I see,” the cook briefly points towards a ticket booth with an attached office by a wall in the back.

“Thank you,” Magpie walks off without telling the others pretending to be waiting in the queue.

The door by the booth is unlocked and leads into a conference room with several griffons, all of whom immediately lock their eyes on Magpie. There’s also a GIL soldier sitting in the corner and cleaning the barrel of his assault rifle while watching a screen showing a wide angle of the mess hall. As soon as the unlocked office door closes behind him, the griffons all pull out a pistol each and aim it at Magpie.

“I need a way out of here,” he says straight up.

“The door is right there,” the nearest griffon points behind Magpie.

“You know what I mean.”

“Not sure we do, really.”

“Train to Wilbur’s Pass,” says Magpie and tosses the diamond he put into his pocket on the floor. The griffon in front picks it up and starts examining it closely. It’s clear to him that they saw him through the camera which also makes it likely that they know about the others. Lying would only make things worse, “Four tickets.”

“Two bugs, him, and one earth pony hybrid with claws,” says the GIL soldier calmly, pulling out a list of something on the screen.

“The diamond won’t be enough by far,” the speaking griffon shakes his head.

Magpie reaches into his backpack, resulting in previously lowered pistols coming back up. Slowly, he offers a pouch which he jingles for added effect. The speaker griffon grabs his talons with one foreleg while taking the pouch with the other.

Magpie freezes. Was it just his paranoia or did the griffon’s eyes linger on his talons just for a moment too long?

He knows, HE KNOWS. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

Without saying anything else, the griffon opens the pouch and examines the offered gold and more gems for a few moments before nodding.

“Private car,” adds Magpie.

“Just you, your friends, and a shipment of coal, all the way across the Empire,” the griffon smiles with the kind of smiles that completely reassures Magpie that he paid many times more than any of the other black passengers.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” says Magpie, “Anything else?”

“Get yourself and your friends to platform eighteen in half an hour.”

Magpie nods. No one tries to stop him as he leaves the office.

This also means they know that it was Tyris who told us about them. That can’t be good. For him, I mean. On the other talon, they got loaded on this deal so they might let it slide. Besides, they are clearly paying off some of the higher-ranked soldiers to turn a blind eye to all this.

Yeah, Tyris will be alright.

Definitely.

Lalalalalalalalalalala!

It’s not my job to solve everyone’s problems.

Outside, Magpie gathers the others and says:

“Say bye to the little guy, we’re leaving in half an hour, platform eighteen. Give me some gold, I’ll go grab some supplies.”

“Wait, you arranged it yourself?” asks Harriet, “We could have helped-”

“They saw us on the camera,” Magpie nods to a small bulge on the ceiling in the corner, “Taking two changelings and a Corrupted to a small office filled with guys with itching trigger-talons didn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Oh, and what about Tyris?” asks Three.

“What about Tyris?” Magpie shoots back.

“Won’t they be mad he told us about them?”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Magpie replies:

“He didn’t go all the way inside with us, they don’t know about him. ”

The train car is filled with huge crates but the only living creatures inside are Magpie, Three, Thirteen, and Harriet just as promised. With some space cleared up to allow the group to be together, Magpie waits until the train starts moving before speaking up.

“Changelings, are you hungry?”

“Kinda wish you didn’t ask...” Thirteen grabs her belly.

“It could be worse,” Three shuffles over to Thirteen and leans against her.

“Alright. Relax and save your strength. Harriet, I’ll need you to alternate watch with me.”

“Do you think GIL soldiers will be checking the train?” asks Harriet.

“One, yes. Two, someone will be unloading all this at some point,” he waves his foreleg around at the crates, ”Three, I don’t trust the guys who got us here. They know we have money, they might want more.”

“You can trust me, I’m the last pony to take the word of Guild members.”

“Guild? You think they belonged to The Guild?”

“Smugglers with contacts high up to affect GIL officers in as important a place as Griffonstone? Those can’t have been some random criminals. The Guild is the only crime syndicate I know, but I doubt anyone else would be better,” Harriet shrugs.

“True,” Magpie nods, leaning his back against a crate, “Anyway, it would be foolish to assume we’re safe and we have two weeks of travel ahead of us.”

“Don’t worry, we can hibernate most of the time,” says Thirteen, “We’ll just need a few minutes to wake up properly in case of trouble.”

“You changelings never cease to amaze me,” Harriet chuckles.

“Said a super cool dragon-Corrupted that has claws, tentacles, and a figure to die for,” Thirteen smirks.

“Oh shush, I’m blushing.”

With the relaxing atmosphere spreading, fueled by quiet “thud-thud” of the train, everyone other than Magpie eases up. The griffon is simply staring at his blood-red talons.

They recognized me. Or maybe not. If they saw the whole leg, it would be clear but the clothes cover almost everything. It would be stupid to believe they didn’t, though.

He sighs.

We can deal with some bounty hunters. We can’t deal with the Imperial Guard.