Thankfully, for the next few weeks, nothing of interest happened. It gave Gilda, Seth and I some time to bond as a family, and settle in to a routine. I had put my proposition to the council at it's bi-weekly meeting, of building hospitals and schools, which was accepted unanimously. They had already been in the process of discussing those matters, and the idea of bringing on Equestrian doctors and teachers to get the New Dominion up to speed was well received. The moment this news reached Equestria, I found Dr. Exotic on my doorstep.

"I cannot believe I forgot to mention this when you came to my office. I blame you for acute ice cream cravings. Anywho, I'm setting up a hospital here on Signal. Since you've decided to go ahead and do it without me, I'm taking over. I'll bring in a construction team I know works well, and the hospital will be built to my standards." She demanded.

"Well, someone is awfully aggressive. What makes you think I'll just 'let' you do that?"

"You and I know that I'm the most qualified. If I wasn't you wouldn't have kept coming to me as your doctor and would have gone with someone else. There is no one else. Most doctors are content to deal with broken bones, runny noses, coughs, vaccinations, and cramming pills down their patient's throats because they get paid per prescription. Do you have any idea what it's like? Day in, day out, having overprotective mothers drag their foals into my office, working themselves into a frenzy because something is wrong with their 'precious little angel', demanding medical treatment for the common cold? I became a doctor to help people, to solve actual problems and cure real illnesses, not cater and pander to vicarious hypochondriacs and overbearing worrywarts!"

"And, you'd be willing to train a full team of doctors, from scratch? I'm talking many of them may have literally no medical background at all. You'd have to start from 'The leg bone's connected to the knee bone'." I sang in the classic tone. "If you can manage to keep any students long enough that they can actually work as doctors, I'll see to it you have full tenure as chief physician, THEN you'll be head of the hospital, which isn't built yet."

"Deal."

So, we sent out advertisements all over the world. Anyone interested in medicine could come and receive an education in it, and employment guaranteed by the crown when they were finished. In the course of the next few weeks, the arena was also completed, and I set about improving my control over magic.

"Whew... okay... okay... whew.... Easy now... eaaaaaaaaaasyyyyy." I laid on the floor in front of a metal plate, filled with mashed potatoes. A pair of long arms, formed of the blood red aura surrounding me reached out. The plate sat in the palm of one hand, while a spoon was delicately positioned between two digits of the magical appendage.

"Okay, no problem. Next... take a scoop of potatoes..." I gingerly moved the utensil, placing a modest amount of whipped spuds on the end before slowly pulling it over to the other side of the room where Seth was seated, wearing a bib. He opened his beak, then clamped it shut on the spoon and refused to let go.

"Seth, let the spoon go."

"Uhuh." He mumbled out with his mouth still full of spoon and potato.

"Seeeetthhhhhh, is the tickle monster going to have to come over there?"

"Nyuuuuuuuu!" He let the spoon go and swallowed the mouthful, laughing the whole time.

Back across the room, the spoon once more digging in to the piping hot mashed potatoes, once more coming out with a big blob of the delicious mush on the end.

"Okay, here we go again. Open wiiiiiiiide." *TING*

The spoon in my grasp snapped, flinging its contents directly at Seth's face. His eyes shot wide in surprise, and mine in worry, considering it was a ball of extremely hot vegetable heading his way.

Seth's shadow popped out of the ground and swatted the blob, sending it directly at me. Next thing I knew, I had hot goop dripping from my face, while Seth broke into an endless fit of giggles, while the swirling black of his shade was once again at rest.

"Gildaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Seth just used magic!" She ran into the room from the kitchen, where she was preparing a meal for the two of us while I fed Seth. She had a camera ready and turned to me expectantly before laughing her guts out as well. Potato face is apparently hilarious.

"Well, at least we know what the deal is with his shadow now, or part of it anyway, though 'Potato point defense' wasn't exactly what I was expecting when Surprise and Discord gave him that."

"Ppp...potato point defense!" Gilda laughed. "*Whew* anyway, you've got a letter." She walked over to me, through the faint red haze and handed me the envelope.

"Dear Griffin North, King of the New Dominion, your presence is requested in Canterlot for the first annual... multinational summit?"

Good mood gone, happy go lucky clouds gone, laughter gone. Plate of potatoes dropped. Poor potatoes.

Everyone sat in the room looking at me expectantly.

"Well? I mean, I can't say I WASN'T expecting it. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Yeah, but it's not just discussion between the New Dominion and Equestria. There's going to be representatives from every nation that we know of. That means Equestria, us, Zebrica, Aquaria, Marble Pillars, and Aoi's clan, Nanashi."

"I'm not exactly happy I'm going to be meeting with the Princesses... well, no, mostly just having to sit and talk with Celestia."

"That's not the problem. The problem is Fia might be with him." Gilda explained.

...

"Well, that IS a problem. Alright, you're both coming with me. If you think I'm about to do something I regret, just tell me you want to leave and we'll go." I told Gilda.

"That's if I don't do something we regret first." It had been a long time since I'd seen it. That look in Gilda's eye. We'd been living a happy life since I'd gotten back, and even before, as long as we were together, we'd be alright. But the look in her eye now, it screamed hatred and murder. It was the same look I knew I was wearing. Seth, sensing the tension in the air, started to whimper, and his shadow swirled beneath him, agitated, as if to lash out at the threat as soon as it became known.

It was in that instant that both Gilda and I calmed down, pulled Seth from his high chair and held him close.

"Definitely not going to get a baby sitter."

A month and a half later, late October, we found ourselves at Canterlot Castle. The Possibility, repainted and re-purposed as a cruise liner, hung in the air overhead. As far as the itinerary of this gathering, the leaders would meet in the main hall and mingle, giving us a chance to become more familiar with the other leaders before we began the actual meeting. While I was familiar with most of them, they might not be as familiar with each other. That is, unless of course there were other nations I didn't know about that would be participating.

I decided it would be best to arrive as a human. As a griffin, I represent griffins. As a human, I represent all the races of the New Dominion impartially. That's a crock of shit, it doesn't matter what form I'm in, but it does matter to whoever I'm talking to. Stupid little things like that are why I both hate, and if you can turn it to your advantage, love am impartial to, politics. I mean really, everyone hates lying, two-faced assholes, but who doesn't love being one? Hopefully this summit wouldn't contain too much in terms of politics and would be more of a meet and greet, letting us go over the events of the past year, and our presence is more of a token gesture so we can leave whenever we feel like it.

On entering, I found Etch and Growl, both of who I had not seen in a very long time, and greeted them both warmly. Etch's son, Grog, had grown as well. They were all dressed in their Sunday best, or, at least their Tuesday pretty-good, I can't claim to know much about diamond dog fashion. Growl had, apparently, opened his own art studio in Canterlot where he made sculptures by carving the rock with his paws, and had made quite a name for himself among the dignified. Nothing better to raise your standing with someone than making a giant chunk of rock look like them. Still smaller than the ego, however.

Etch, on the other hand, had taken linguistics courses and had become remarkably well spoken. His voice lost it's... grating quality, and he spoke clearly and plainly.

"Etch, if you keep that up, we may have to rename you to Smooth."

"And lose this rustic charm? Don't you dare." We had a good laugh at that.

The next one I met up with was Queen Chrysalis, who was having a conversation with Cadence, ending with the queen sticking her tongue out and walking over to me.

"Sourpuss over there is still upset she lost our bet. Mostly because every time I see her I make sure to rub it in her face, and there's not a damn thing she can do about it."

"I'm glad. I had my own little chit chat with her on a train ride, and pretty much ruined her mindset. Anyway, who else is here?"

"The pony Princesses, of course, including Cadence, the Quetzalcoatl Empress is here, apparently the ruler of the desert, to the south of the jungle." Chrysalis motioned to a big snake person, with a pair of plumed wings. The coloration of the scales and feathers would make a peacock weep in envy. The vibrant greens and deep red, the lightning yellows and blues varying between sky and oceanic. Someone is compensating for something.

"Hmm, Quetzalcoatl, Meso-American god. Vegetation god, closely associated with rain god. Worship altered to emphasize war and human sacrifice. The feathered serpent. Sometimes depicted as a dragon. She's likely not a god though, since it's less divine being and more a full race of people. Desert culture suggest emphasis on survival and efficiency, possible warlike tendencies."

"Hmm, impressive." Chrysalis stated. "I haven't had much dealings with them. Nobody has. They're a very private people, and don't like outside interference, almost, but not quite, to the point of xenophobia. A simple trader might pass through their lands, while an explorer or diplomatic envoy might be arrested, or vice-versa. Some say it depends on the Empress's mood. Other than that, you may know more than I do."

"Wait, you said they live in the desert? As in, the Southern Dunes?"

"Yes, why?" Chrysalis asked. Gilda and I looked to one another and shared a silent laugh, remembering an old coincidence. The changeling didn't know what we were thinking, but definitely picked up on the fact we thought something was humorous.

"Oh, just something that happened a while ago. Anyway, they may or may not be cloud worshipers, which if they are, means that despite being able to fly, they can't land on clouds or control the weather like griffins or pegasi can. I may be able to... impress them."

"Then we have the representatives from Marble Pillars, who you already know. Interesting, how their leaders are selected by a trio of dragons. Even if one leader dies or steps down, a worthy successor is selected by the three and takes the name of the previous leader. Red, Yellow, and Blue."

While Red and Blue were the same, Yellow was someone different from when I last visited. I met with them as well. They were very professional, not betraying what their opinions of me may or may not be, given my more recent actions. Yellow had explained that the previous 'Yellow' died of old age, and he'd been selected as the new one. He was no newbie, not by any means, and had likely been playing the political game for years before his ascendancy.

I wanted to at the very least be acquainted with the Empress of the Quetzals, so I decided to speak to her next. She had an entourage of guards with her, though her motions quickly told me they were nothing more than a show, and she was quite capable of defending herself. More than anything, the desert was fairly far away, so they probably ended up being more like pack mules than guards. She was looking around cautiously, trying to get a read on any possible threat. Right... borderline xenophobic. Instead of introducing myself, I simply allowed her serpentine eyes to meet mine, those dark grey orbs with glowing rings of blue. Forgetting that my eyes were machines, and that I couldn't properly convey emotions with them, I gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod to the empress, while keeping eye contact.

'We'll talk later, if we have reason to.'

The discussion at this summit might be all the talking we need.

That was when Aoi arrived. Eol followed, along with someone I believed was dead.

"Wait... is that you? Ellie?"

"Yep, it's me." The tall cat replied, hanging off Eol's arm.

"I thought you were dead. From what I heard you poisoned yourself before everyone got taken."

"I remembered you once told us all the story of Romeo and Juliet, and, well, I come from a tribe that uses stealth and cunning. Nadene isn't the only one who can mix potions, or poisons, in this case. I didn't tell anyone because... well, It had to be believable, right? I got left behind on the ship. When I came out of it, I ran my tail south and met up with Aoi's group. The others. They didn't make it."

"No, Nadene was the only other one who escaped. Trixie and Geirmund are dead as well."

"You better believe I had some harsh words. Speaking of which, you uh, may want to prepare yourself."

The next person in Aoi's group who entered was Ubi, with Fia next to him. My blood ran cold. I looked to Aoi. We didn't say anything to each other, but he had a hand at each side, resting on a pair of swords, though tensed as if to draw them at a moment's notice. I turned to look at Fia again. Ubi stood in front of her protectively, but I could still see her face. She was wearing my amulet. Our eyes met.

It was at that moment I realized that I was on fire, storm clouds were billowing inside the building, and the castle floor was cracking beneath my feet as tendrils of my magic flowed out and lashed at the stones. Needless to say, I was attracting a bit of attention. Gilda was standing right next to me, lightning crackling all over her body. Sometimes, I forget that I trained her as well.

It was at that point that Seth thwacked his mother on the head, bringing her to her senses, and she grabbed my arm, snapping me out of it as well.

"Excuse us." I coughed out as the flames subsided, the clouds dissipated, and the static left the air. We quickly went to the far side of the room, to the refreshment table, where I grabbed a half dozen ice cubes from the tray cooling the shrimp and cold cuts, stuffed them into my mouth and began crunching on them loudly.

Chrysalis came and found me, my mouth numb from the ice, and a worried look on her face, but said nothing. For a love eating bug, she can show a surprising amount of care.

"Do you wanna just go?" Gilda asked.

"I think I'm okay." I replied. "You?"

"Yeah. I think as long as Seth is here, we'll both be alright." So it happens that an infant, less than two years old, (Holy crap and he's already talking in almost full sentences? They grow up so fast!) was more in control and mature than two adults, and prevented an international incident.

"As long as I don't have to look at her too much. Besides, I don't think we can leave now, not after that display. If it were just us it would be a different story, but there's representatives from the zebras, the seaponies, Marble Pillars, and the Quetzalcoatl Empire. If we were to leave now, without even going to the discussion, it would look worse than bad." And this is the part about politics I hate. If you do it, you're stuck with it. Then again, it could have been even worse if we didn't show up at all.

"I hate this."

"Then why do you bother with it?" Came a hissing voice from behind. I knew better than to turn around, and with a small hand gesture I motioned to Gilda to keep looking the way we were. I don't know anything about Quetzal tradition, and I didn't want to offend by looking at the Empress if it was against social norms. She'd obviously approached from behind for a reason. Not turning around shows I'm not afraid, and I'm confident in my strength that I can afford to turn my back to a potential enemy. Jumping and turning around would have been a declaration of 'You snuck up behind me, caught me by surprise, and I took a defensive position because I'm weaker than you.' Instead, I was declaring 'I knew you were coming, but you're less than nothing, no threat at all, I don't even have to acknowledge your existence if I don't feel like it. I'm talking to you out of courtesy.' I have a feeling that most of what I say to this Snake Empress wasn't going to be said at all.

"I have my reasons."

"I normally refusssssse invitation to thesssse kindssss of eventsssss. They tend to be uneventful. The poniesssss drabble on and on about pointlesssss affairs, and I have no reassssson to open dissscourssse with them, regardlesss of what they claim they have to offer. Though I heard that sssssomeone interesssssting would be coming to thissss one, and decided to sssssseeee for mysssself. You have created quite a sssssstir. I do not like thisssssss."

It was at this moment that I turned around. Despite being about a head taller than me, relatively the same height as one of the cats, I still managed to look down on her, as if to say 'You think I care what you do and do not like? I am above you.' She seemed extremely taken aback by this and recoiled ever so slightly before catching herself and maintaining her position.

'She is not accustomed to people being so brazen.'

"That'sssss nice." I hissed back. She swayed on the spot in a serpentine manner. To her surprise, so did I. Months of slithering about the Black Marsh, modeling my movement after the snakes and alligators that lived there in order to ease my movement through that thick muck had left me with a serpentine grace she was not expecting me to possess. That and my mimicking her speech pattern caught her off guard.

'I don't give a shit if you're offended. You're not the boss of me.' She seems the kind of person who'll only respect you if you make it very clear that you don't respect them, without openly insulting. Just a little quip here or there. I really hope this is the right thing to do.

Soon enough I discovered that this was indeed the correct course of action, since I noticed a tiny smile on the she-snakes mouth.

"I look forward to thissss disssscusssion." With that, she slithered away.

"Everyone, your attention." Luna stood at a balcony. "We will begin shortly. You may enter the meeting room now. The guards will direct you." No pleasantry, no 'Your attention please' Clear cut instructions of 'If you're going to be part of this meeting, then get your ass in the meeting room, or go home.'

Author's Notes:

I love the Dr.Exotic character. She's just so.... arrogant. It's great. She's the best, she knows it, she wants everybody else to know it so they can stop wasting her time. Yeah, she talks down to a king, but that king happens to be her patient. There's 3 people you don't mess with, your cook, your guide, and your doctor.

The Quetzalcotl Empress was mentioned in a Daring Do book.

Seth will play a significant role in the next chapter, at the end, after the meeting.

Also. "Wow, I've written a lot, I wonder how many words I'm at?"
800.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding. Alright, I'll do a little more."
*Later*
"Must be sitting at like, 2500 now."
1200
"OH COME ON! No, I won't give up, I'll never give up!"
*DETERMINATION*

For seven eons, BlackWing sat as his desktop. Days, weeks went by, seasons passed. Entire civilizations rose to prominence, then fell to dust around him. Stars went dark, then were born anew. The passage of time had no meaning or hold over the author. The universe itself ceased to exist. All that remained was a man, a computer, and a chapter that demanded to be written. Words came, not easily like the flow of water, but hammered, like so much iron, by a blacksmith who's sheer will and strength of arm shapes the world around him. The 'clack clack clack' of keys resonating louder than a hammer to an anvil, the hiss of water, quenching the blade nothing before the hiss of frustration that passed his lips.

The ancient, withered corpse of the blacksmith, smouldering as the fires of his own forge that had consumed him eventually went out, and yet, still, the author wrote. The word count read "3600."

Or, you know, like, an afternoon on a day off, drinking cranberry ginger-ale and and eating a plate of hot chicken. That works too. Sometimes I like to imagine life as being far more epic than it really is.

Oh, did I say ginger-ale and chicken? I mean nectar of the gods and ambrosia. You know, since I'm writing this from Valhalla. This chapter would have been easier to write if I didn't have a pair of vikings arm-wrestling on my desk for the past 3000 years. Could one of you hurry up and win already? You're pissing me off.