Chapter Forty Six

Prison Break

A sharp crack filled the air as a bolt of lightning thundered across the sky, the delay between the light and the sound almost nonexistent for the city down below. The bright flash of light illuminated almost every dark corner of the city, and in one such alley, a figure moved with a swift, silent purpose. His pelt color did wonders for camouflage, as the stripes served well to break up his outline whenever the light of the lightning shone where he was.

Undi did not care for the light of the lightning, just as he did not care about the wind that whipped around him or the rain that seeped through his clothes and into his very bones. The chill was kept at bay by a fiery torrent of rage in his heart, twisting and blackening his already corrupted soul. He had no qualms about killing the dragon; it was an eye for an eye, after all, that his son had perished at the hands of such a foul creature and that many of his soldiers had been granted a similar fate. No, this dragon was his alone to kill, and kill him he would.

The wives didn’t matter; let them stay and rot in this retched city, at the mercy of the bureaucracy and that ignoble guard. Their fate would be far worse than their mate’s, something that struck a chord of delicious irony in the zebra’s belly. All he truly cared about was the dragon and his vengeance, and as he found himself in front of the prison, he let his lips form a rather nasty sneer.

“This is it,” he whispered to himself, drawing from his pocket the key he had been given by Hyginus. Opening the door amidst the rumble of another peal of thunder, he closed it gently, the shadows from the flickering torches within more than giving him places to hide in. Stealthily making his way past the room where the two guards slept, he stood up straight as he found himself in front of the cage Hyginus’s master Devrim had told him of. There was no need to kill the guards; he would be silent enough to make sure his work went unnoticed, and he would leave, the guards none the wiser to his deed until it was too late.

“So, we meet again, Spike the dragon,” the warlord said softly, his anger and rage spilling forth from his lips with every syllable. “I knew I would find you again, and I know now you are weak; too weak to defend yourself, unlike the last time we met.” Hyginus had informed him of the dragon’s “problem”, and as such, had known now was the perfect time to strike.

All that emerged from the cell was a low groan, like that of a wounded animal in great pain and begging for death. This was accompanied by a series of coughs, like those of somepony who had spent the better part of their life inhaling smoke or coal dust from mining.

“Pitiful, that such a mighty creature of this world be brought so low by its own biology,” the zebra stallion said as it opened the cell door, the creaking of the hinges drowned out by the sound of the wind and rain lashing against the building. “If you hadn’t killed my son, and had instead injured him, I might have forgiven your transgressions. I may have even congratulated you for teaching him a valuable lesson.”

He smirked as he drew a dagger, short and carved from a talon of the great dragon that broke the city’s walls so long ago. “Maybe I would have just maimed you instead of killing you like some animal, to show my son that even our enemies when beaten can still be further dishonored.” As fragile as it was sharp, due to its severe age and apparent use, the dagger glinted in the light of every flash of lightning. Dragon scales, teeth and talons, after all, were the only things that could pierce the hide of a dragon without the aid of strong magic, and with a small stabbing motion, the zebra lunged, intent on inflicting as much pain as possible on his hapless quarry.

Only, when he struck, the dagger did not dig into scale and flesh and bone; his entire arm had been stopped at the wrist by some impossible force. In a flash of the lightning, Undi saw the dragon looking at him from the cold floor with a blank, cold stare. His taloned fingers had enclosed the zebra’s wrist, and with a rather terrible crunching noise, broke his assailant’s wrist in a crushing embrace.

The zebra let out a strangled cry from his scarred throat, but the dragon ignored it. He simply tossed the zebra away from him into the cell bars in an almost dream-like state, his eyes not seeing as the zebra’s did. No, as the dragon lurched away from the cell, his body moved on its own, without any real input from its brain. It was as if Spike were running on instinct now, yet without conscious thought or even primal input. No, it was if he were possessed by some spirit, a malevolent entity that did not care for the welfare of its host.

“Must... find... them,” the dragon croaked, shuffling away from his cell like a leper seeking shelter in a monastery. The zebra behind him did not rise to strike again, instead trying to no pass out from the pain of his shattered wrist. The storm outside continued to rage, but the dragon did not care.

Spike needed to find his family, and with them escape.

Meanwhile...

Devrim marched in the rain with his soldiers, with a purpose that caused the watching civilians to close and bolt their shutters in fear. Lamps were extinguished and doors locked as more and more of the stallion’s troops came out of the shadows to join their master. They had all been promised riches and glory, the right to command troops and armies in his name when he would sweep over his neighbors and return glory to their empire. Very tempting offers, to be sure, and many of these had been raised at their grandfather’s knees on the legends of conquest and glory. Just like their chosen master, none knew the real price of war.

Turning a corner, Devrim found himself face to face with a wall that had not always been there. Instead, the wall moved and shifted apart; it was indeed a wall, but a wall of shields. None of his soldiers had shields like these: great tower shields with large knobs embedded into their center to bash apart enemy shields. These great defenses were those of the Janissaries, his uncle’s personal guard, a rank and position higher even than a regular captain of the guard could hope to attain.

“Devrim! This madness ends!” a voice shouted, and the prince was indeed surprised to see none other than his spy emerge from the shields, alongside a very heavily-armored individual.

“What madness would that be? Have you turned traitor to your cause?” Devrim shouted back, earning a rather nasty set of insults from his more rambunctious troops towards the shield wall. “Here I thought you were made of sterner stuff, but it appears I was deceived! No matter to me!”

“It is you who have turned traitor, you foolish whelp!” the heavily armored figure said, and in an instant, the prince knew who it was. He actually let loose a small chuckle, a bitter sound that would have sent many a lesser stallion grabbing for his weapon in fright.

“Ah, uncle, I thought you might be behind something like this,” Devrim replied, drawing his sword from his scabbard. “Tell me, did you not think I might have expected you to catch whiff of my plan? This army of mine is infested in the entire city; even should I be captured, my troops will be sure to make sure your victory is short and I am returned to the throne as this empire’s rightful ruler.”

“Really now? You mean the paltry few I had killed or imprisoned these last few hours?” the emperor asked, his own guard deathly silent as they watched the proceedings. “Your “army” is but what you have with you now: there will be no reinforcement coming to join your rebellion, Devrim. Lay down your arms, and both your army and you shall be spared.”

“Oh, uncle, didn’t you ever learn from history? If somepony wants something bad enough, they will never stop until it is theirs! We will not back down with our tails between our legs: we will fight, and we shall win!” Devrim shouted, earning a cheer from his troops. “My army is far vaster than you think, my connections spreading across this city. Even as we speak, my agents are working their way into the very heart of the bureaucracy, in ways you cannot even imagine! I-,”

“Now!” the loyal spy said, and from behind and to the sides of Devrim’s forces, Janissaries poured out of the streets and alleyways, their shields and swords glinting in the flashes of lightning and rain. The prince’s own forces met them headlong, but had been surprised and were surrounded. The battle was not short, and was indeed bloody. Arrows rained from the rooftops, along with javelins and crossbow bolts from the archers and skirmishers that had taken up position there.

“Fall back!” the prince shouted, watching in horror as his loyal minotaur servant Tycho fell, several bolts sticking out from between the plates of his armor. There was so much blood, so much screaming and shouting, so much noise from the clashing of steel; it was madness!

Blood poured down the streets in rivers as the prince and his ever-shrinking army fled, only to meet walls of spear, shields and swords at every corner. Arrows continued to fall in time with rain, pouring into the huddled mass of rebellious troops, with Devrim at their center. Steel met steel, swords were broken, shields splintered, and countless dead began to littler the streets as the rebellion continued. The hundreds were whittled down to dozens, and the dozens down to a paltry few, until at last Devrim was the only one left, his back to a fountain as the emperor and his personal guard closed in all around him.

“I am your kin, you cannot kill me!” Devrim shouted, his arms weak from all his stabbing and slashing and his lungs gasping for breath. Such exertion was something he had never done before, and why would he? He was a prince; the price of war on the body was never discussed in all of those books he had read when he was younger. “You would not kill your own flesh and blood!”

“You would not have thought the same of my son, should your places have been reversed,” the emperor said, his sword glinting in a flash of lightning. “Tell my brother I said hello when you see him... in Tartarus.”

Realization of his uncle’s ultimate deception dawned on Devrim’s face just as the sword struck with blinding speed, and with a look of incredulity and finality, the severed head flew off of the former prince’s shoulders and into fountain like some grisly offering. The body, still clutching the sword in one hand, fell to its knees and then slumped over at the hooves of the emperor. The rain continued to pour in sheets as the stallion walked past the body, grabbed the head out of the water by its soaking mane, and lifted it to the sky, giving a roar of triumph. His own troops echoed his cry, a sound that carried on the wings of the thunder until it was heard throughout the city.

On the same night the rebellion had begun, it had ended.

The emperor shoved the soaking head on a pike and gave it to one of his guards, if only for him to display it on the castle ramparts as a symbol of what happened to those who plotted the deaths of the innocent. It was custom all over the world, after all.

“My lord, we bring news of the raid on Devrim’s home base within the city,” a captain of the guard said, walking up to his emperor as the royal stallion sat beneath an overhanging tarp. The emperor was not in as good of shape as he had once been, but he had been more than a match for his younger and foolish opponent. Still, he wanted to be out of the rain for a little while longer before returning to his wife and infant colt.

“Speak, Captain Titus,” the emperor said.

“We have a list of Devrim’s co-conspirators, though we have yet to look over the list thoroughly,” Titus said. “Captain Myrrina was the one who found it and gave it to us, but soon after, she disappeared.”

“Let me see the list,” the emperor said, accepting the scroll from the captain’s outstretched hand. Hmm, that was interesting: names upon names, and one near the bottom of the list caught his attention. “Well, it seems here my nephew was keeping a tab on my captain, though he did not specify why.”

“Shall we detain her, my lord? Out of caution?” Titus did not sound anxious to do so, as it was known he was a friend of Myrrina’s but his training and loyalty had never been called into question, and as such, he was willing to whatever his emperor commanded.

“Yes, but do so carefully, and without violence: should she give herself up, she is to be treated fairly and without consequence, understood? She is a valuable asset to this city, after all.” He was a fair and reasonable emperor, after all, and few of his guards could handle the paperwork as well as Myrrina. If she was a traitor, the loss of her would be a severe blow to the empire’s bureaucratic ways.

The captain nodded in reply and took off, several other guards following behind him.

Meanwhile...

Myrrina was running through the rain, her armor glinting as lightning continued to flash across the sky. She had long since sheathed her sword and tucked her short spear in the holster on her other hip, and while the weight usually was always a bit burdensome, her pace suggested she didn’t even feel her weapons’ weight.

Her name, her own name had been on that list, along with several dozen other she had recognized; merchants, guards, artisans, blacksmiths and countless city officials. Devrim had been keeping an eye on her especially, along with several other guards, and although she now undoubtedly looked guilty of being a co-conspirator, she knew what she was doing was the right thing to do.

She needed to get her daughter out of the city, far away from the troubles that would likely unfold after the dust settled from this little failed coup. Surely there were associates of Devrim’s still at large, unnamed and unknown to the emperor, and undoubtedly they would be looking for retribution for their master’s death. As such, anypony or griffin, in her case, would be a likely target, and her daughter’s life was far too precious for her to put in as great of danger as it would soon be in. It would be for revenge, plain and simple, and her daughter’s life would likely be in danger so long as she remained within their sights.

The second part was that even if she did turn herself in and was proven innocent, in the time it would take for Myrrina to come to trial, Eutropia would likely be seized as a suspect by some of the emperor’s less honorable inspectors and would likely be tortured for information, with her ultimate condition likely causing insanity or death. Inspectors were known to be utterly ruthless and vile, with their only saving grace that being of the emperor’s own choosing, and most of the time their true natures were so well-concealed that in the instance they were exposed, their usefulness often outweighed their savagery. Eutropia would never be able to stand up to them if they came calling, and Myrrina would be powerless to stop it.

But to get her daughter out of the city, Myrrina knew she would need companions to keep her company and to most of all, keep her safe. She knew of nopony or griffin in the city that could take her far outside of the borders of the Ottomare Empire in secrecy, and even if there were, a pair of griffins travelling would likely raise questions, especially if there was a sudden “anonymous” bounty for Eutropia’s capture. Money was always a motivating factor among the poor, and if her daughter was going to be safe beyond a shadow of a doubt, she’d have to travel in disguise, under the care of some inconspicuous strangers. The only thing was, whom could she trust?

Reaching her home, Myrrina burst inside and slammed the door behind her, making sure to lock it in an instant. The noise of her entry caused her daughter to come out of her room.

“Mother? What is going on?” she asked, having never seen Myrrina bring her armor home with her.

“You have to leave,” her mother replied, shaking off some of the excess water that clung to her like a sheet. “The city is no longer safe; you must leave Istanbul and head away from here, as far as you can.”

“But... but why?” Eutropia asked, sounding (and feeling) rather scared. She’d never seen her mother this serious before, and her tone was positively bone-chilling. Not even when she had been told all those years ago of her father’s death had her mother been this... cold.

“There’s been a rebellion, and the one who started it is dead.”

“But... isn’t that a good thing?” a voice asked, and the two griffins turned to see Maria poking her head out from Eutropia’s room. “Would that not be good for your empire that a traitor is dead?”

“It is, but he was apparently keeping tabs on not only me, but my family and many other citizens of Istanbul,” Myrrina replied, opening a closet and grabbing a traveling cloak. “The list was delivered to the emperor a short while ago and while I was never in anypony’s employ but my emperor’s, that list will serve as a means for his majesty to try and root out any collaborators of the traitor. Inasmuch, my family is at risk, and Eutropia needs to flee, if only for her own safety.”

“But where will I go? What will I do?” the younger griffin asked, stamping a foot as she wrung her talon-tipped hands. “I can’t just up and leave! I have nowhere to go, and I can’t go without you, mother!”

“You will have to,” Myrrina said, throwing the cloak into her daughter’s arms. “You must flee; your very life depends on it. The only things that can save you will be your wits and determination to live. Can you promise me you’ll never stop running until you are undoubtedly safe, that you will live a happy and free life far from me and this city? Eutropia... promise me, Eutropia!”

The griffin girl choked back a sob at her mother’s shout. “I-I-I promise, m-mother,” she stuttered, throwing her arms around her mother in a great hug. For a moment, the older griffin did nothing, but then soon returned the embrace, though it was a quick one.

“We can take her with us,” a voice said, and the two griffins turned to see the four mares looking at them from Eutropia’s room. “We can take her with us, to a safe place, far from this city,” Chrysalis said again, her voice surprisingly calm and regal, given the rather unsettling circumstances.

“How can I be sure of your intentions?” Myrrina asked. “You are prisoners of the state, and-,”

“And we’re the best chance your daughter has of escaping the Ottomare Empire,” Trixie said. “Traveling with Spike under his retinue, as is his entitled power as a future lord of Equestria, Eutropia would have diplomatic immunity wherever we stopped, and even then, we would have a dragon and three magic-users to help protect her.”

“I don’t need protecting...” Eutropia said under her breath, her voice trailing off as if embarrassed.

“How can I trust you? You’re not a mother; you don’t know what it feels like,” Myrrina snapped back.

“Oh? I don’t know?” Trixie said, placing a hand protectively over her belly. “You may be a mother now, but three of us will be mothers within the coming months. Trust us, we will do everything we can to keep her safe.”

“She has a point,” the younger griffin said quietly. She rather liked these mares, even though she had only known them for a short while.

“You are certain of this?” Myrrina asked. “I’m still not so sure about letting my daughter go off into this world with complete strangers.”

“Yet you were just so willing to let her go off on her own, without anything but the clothes on her back?” Asalah asked. “She will be far safer with us than she ever could be off by herself.”

The elder griffin looked from the four mares, to her daughter, and back to them again. This was an awfully big gamble: sure, her daughter would most likely be safe in the company of three magic-users and a dragon, but then again, the escape of these prisoners would be a tarnishing stain on her career as a captain of the guard. What would the other guards say whenever she had to preside over possible promotions? What would... oh, to Tartarus with all that nonsense.

“Then it is settled; Eutropia, you will go with these four mares and their dragon husband out of the country,” Myrrina said, looking he daughter straight in the eyes. “You are never to return to this city, but in time, I will find you again. Do you understand me?”

“Y-Yes, mother,” Eutropia replied, straightening up a little bit and biting back another small sob. “I... I will go with them.”

“Then dress quickly in these cloaks, for we do not have much time,” the elder griffin said, grabbing several more lumpy, thick cloaks from the closet. “They will keep you warm and dry from the storm, but we must get to the Boshorsus Straits as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Maria asked as she threw the thick cloak on over her clothes.

“This city extends to the other side, and if you are all to escape, we will need to find a ferry across, a tough thing to do in this storm,” Myrrina said. “The guards on the far side will not yet know of what has happened, or whom to look for should my daughter be listed as a suspect in the official investigation. As such, it will be the best place for you all to escape through. Eutropia, can you get them to the docks?”

“Where are you going, mother?” her daughter asked.

“I have to go release the dragon from his cell,” the captain said, her voice sounding grim. “If he is indeed at or past his lashing-out stage, he will be far too weak to travel far on his own. I will bring him to the docks; we must go now!”

The six of them, five dressed in heavy cloaks and the other in glinting armor, rushed out of the house just as another bolt of lightning arced across the sky. Myrrina watched as her daughter hurried off with the four mares, her own face grim as she set out towards the prison. Had she been looking back towards he daughter a little more, she may have seen a shadow moving along the streets in time with her...

“This is too perfect,” Hyginus muttered to himself as he slunk through the shadows like a wraith. Years upon years of perfecting the art of the stalk and the subsequent fun that came with its completion had honed him into something ponies were not meant to be: a predator. He had stalked countless mares from the city’s alleys and back passages, and knew most of the city like the back of his hand.

“They’ll just tire themselves out long before I reach them, and then, oh, then the fun will begin,” he muttered. Which one would he sample first? The changeling? She did have an exotic allure to her, though he could say the same about that zebra. The two unicorns would prove a tad more troublesome with their magic, but if he was fast enough, they too would be helpless. The griffin? Oh, the delicious irony of both claiming her and then taking her from her mother, his hated rival...

Meanwhile...

It did not take Myrrina long to reach the prison, but the instant she arrived, she knew something was wrong. The door had been broken down, with many splinters being carried away by the water rushing down the streets. Looking inside, she could see two things; one, the prison cell door was open and empty, and two, the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

“Where in Tartarus is he?” she wanted to shout out, but refrained from doing so. She glanced at the room where her guards were likely asleep; she could not alert them to this, as they too would be under suspicion of treachery if they were found to have helped her for something. No she would search for this Spike all by herself; she needed to find him, and fast.

Rushing out of the prison’s now-destroyed doorway, she looked around. In his addled state, there was no telling where the dragon could have gone off to, and-

“Hnnng,” a voice said, and turning, Myrrina could not believe her luck. There was the dragon, huddled on the ground in an alley right across from the prison. Thank the heavens he hadn’t made it farther than that, or else she might have never found him in time.

“Dragon, come with me, we need to leave,” Myrrina said, rushing over to the sickly drake. “Come on!”

“Hnnng,” the dragon said again, his voice sounding utterly wretched. He was clearly past the violent stage and was now nearing the comatose stage of his sickness. Soon enough, he wouldn’t be able to move himself, and with the weight of her armor already limiting her speed slightly, Myrrina knew carrying him down to the docks would be nigh impossible in this weather.

The captain had no time for this shit. Grabbing Spike, she pulled him to his feet and threw his arm over her shoulders to help support him. “Come on, dragon, we need to get to the docks. You want to see your family again, don’t you?”

That seemed to give the dragon a bit of energy, at least, for he stumbled along with her, managing to keep the pace, slow and stumble-prone it was. Turning a corner, the two of them set off down a sheltered alley, headed straight towards the docks. High above, lightning continued to flash as a dark cloud, far darker than the others, swirled closer and closer towards the city below.

Meanwhile...

“Come on! We’re nearly there!” Eutropia shouted, helping along the four mares as they ran through alleys and along large, empty streets. Asalah was having the easiest time, as she was not carrying a foal within her belly and came from a race long accustomed to running away from danger. Maria and Chrysalis were not far behind her, their pregnancies slowing them slightly but not by much. Trixie, however, being the one whose foal was the farthest along, lagged considerably behind the others, her heavy gasps showing just how burdened she was.

“Trixie, we need to hurry!” Maria said as they stopped under an abandoned warehouse, the utter absence of walls signifying they were indeed very close to the docks. Who needs walls in a building when goods are being moved in and out of it continuously? “We’re almost there!”

“I’m... I’m coming,” Trixie said, stumbling beside the others and barely managing to catch herself from falling. “I... I just need... a few minutes.... to rest.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a few minutes,” a voice said, and the five of them turned to see a guard standing there, his wicked smile glinting like his armor. “No, you’re all going to be here quite a while longer than you think.”

“Says you!” Eutropia shouted, stepping between the stallion and the mares. “Leave us be! We are under orders from captain Myrrina herself to seek departure from the docks.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Hyginus said, and in an instant had crossed the distance between him and the young griffin. With a powerful backhand, he sent the youngster sprawling, laughing as he did so. “I don’t give a damn about what your bitch of a mother ordered you to do,” he said, stepping over the gasping Eutropia and towards the four mares, reaching for a small dagger at his belt. “I’m going to have my fun with them, and there’s nothing, utterly nothing you can do stop me, you little fool.”

“Leave her alone!” Maria called out, taking a step forward despite the glinting of the knife.

“Oh, a brave one?” Hyginus said, licking his lips as he raised his dagger further, poised to strike. “I guess you’ll be first!”

Schk

The four mare cried out at the noise, shielding themselves from the coming strike. Only, a blow did not come, and tentatively uncovering their faces, they saw the look on Hyginus’ face change. It had been malicious, fierce, and downright lewd, but now, it was... confused. The four mares and the guard looked down and saw blood seeping from the stallion’s abdomen, leaking out around a large, jagged and shiny protuberance that had skewered right through him.

“Wh-wh-wha-,” was all the guard could manage to say, gargling as he did so, before he was pulled back from the four mares. With a bloody scream he was pulled up into the air, the protuberance spinning him around to face his waiting doom.

“My Censcorpions,” Chrysalis said with a sigh of relief.

Indeed, the entire flock of the creatures was hovering around the area, their flapping wings drowned out by the thunder and rain. One had skewered Hyginus on its long flexible tail and had brought him up to face them, a wide, hungry-looking grin of its own gracing it’s terrible visage. Teeth of a dragon mixed with a changeling’s lined its mouth, making the grin look very shark-like in appearance. That same look was mirrored on the face of each and every other Censcorpion, creating a collage of savagery and impending bloodlust.

The two stared at one another for a few seconds before it flung the guard into the air, a spurt of blood following him like the trail of a falling star as the sharp tip of its tail exited its victim. In an instant, the whole great seething mass of the creatures descended on Hyginus in midair, their writhing forms staying afloat as they did their work. Blood, entrails and bits of bone flew everywhere as they tore the guard apart, his screams ending in a bloody gargle that was audible even over the din of thunder.
Eutropia rose to her feet with some help from Maria as Chrysalis tried to calm down the others.

“What were those things?” Trixie asked, shivering uncontrollably from fright and the cold of the rain.

“They are my elite guard, sent here originally to help free us from the prison,” the queen of the changelings said, noticing how faint Asalah was looking. “Thankfully they arrived when they did.”

“So... much.... blood,” the zebra said softly, remember back how Spike had torn through all of those bandits back in the desert. Of them all, only Trixie and Asalah had not seen Spike’s rampage in southern Prance, and even this was not the same as his massacre of those bandits in the desert. This was a hive defending its queen, soldiers protecting their leader; there was no love behind this, only unstoppable loyalty and a sense of subservience. Perhaps that was why they tore through the guard with such precision; when they scattered, there was nothing left in one large piece. Even his armor had been bitten through like a dog’s chew toy and torn to shreds by the creatures.

“Come now, we must hurry. There isn’t a moment to lose,” Eutropia said, rubbing her face where the former guard’s blow had hit her. She could already feel a bruise welling up under her eye, and some of the blood running down her cheek thankfully was not her own.

The five of them hurried off once more, taking care to check behind them every so often for any other nasty surprises. Thankfully, nothing appeared, and as they went on, so did the queen’s guard shadow their every move, a thick black blanket of security for the five soaking travelers. The city still lay silent under the onslaught of wind, rain and thunder, and as lightning flashed over the turbid waters of the Boshorsus Straits, the five cloaked travelers found themselves at the docks.

There was only a single boat at the docks, one barely large enough to seat seven passengers, and the apparent ferrypony was untying some of the ropes as they approached him

“We need to use your boat,” Eutropia said, noticing the large bastard sword hanging on the cloaked stranger’s belt. The figure was silent, stopping what they were doing and instead standing there with their arms crossed and face in shadow. They were rather intimidating in appearance, or at least their silhouette was, and they were the same height as Chrysalis. One could only imagine what they looked like under that ratty cloak and strange-looking armor. Whoever they were, the city of Istanbul was most definitely not their home.

“Eutropia!” a voice called out, and the griffin turned to see her mother, with Spike in tow, dash through several empty waterside market stalls up to the same docks they were at.

“Mother!” the young griffin called out, embracing her mother in a hug, even as the dragon stood only with the captain’s assistance. “We need passage, and this one is the only one we can find.” Spike let out another loud groan, and in an instant, his four wives were upon him, helping to support him away from the griffins and towards the boat. The cloaked figure had not moved an inch, save for the slight tilting of their head when they saw the dragon.

“I shall talk with him, Eutropia,” Myrrina said, letting go of her daughter. The welt forming under her eye; had she been in a fight? If so, the enemy must have been defeated, since she and the others were all in one piece. “He will take you far from here; I know this fellow.”

“You do? How do you know... him?” her daughter asked, glancing back at the hooded figure.

“I’d know that sword anywhere,” the captain said, walking past her daughter as rain continued to pelt them. “Ebony Blade?”

“Speaking,” the hooded figure said simply, his voice curt and deep, if a little raspy.

“I am entrusting you to escort my daughter and her fellow travelers out of the city, and in time, out of the Ottomare Empire altogether,” Myrrina said as lightning flashed behind her, throwing the whole scene into even greater relief. Blood stained much of Eutropia’s clothes, Spike had lost almost all of his normal color, and the four mares were shivering from the cold rain. It indeed was a ghastly sight.

“Payment?” the figure said, him cloak seemingly rustling behind him.

“Whatever you deem fair,” the griffin said. “Return after having sent them on their way, and I will pay you in full.”

“Deal,” the figure said, motioning for the four mares and their weak dragon husband to get on the boat. “Your daughter will be safe, captain.”

“Mother, you must come with us!” Eutropia said, gazing into her mother’s eyes with a pleading look. “We can flee together, as-,”

“No, we cannot, my daughter,” the older griffin said, her face grim. “If I were to flee, your grandmother would surely die, and they would hunt both of us to the ends of the Earth. We would never be safe, and I do not wish for my only child to have the life of a fugitive. Enough blood has been spilled over this matter, and I will not see yours added to the river that it has made. I will stay, and face trial, even if it means I may be imprisoned for something I have not done.”

“And then what? What will I do without you?” Eutropia asked, tears threatening to pour out of her eyes once more.

“You will be strong, and grow old and wise and happy,” her mother said, a rather strange note entering her voice. Pride? A grim resolution? Perhaps even... love? She had always loved her daughter, and always showed it, but in accordance with their culture, she had rarely ever said it. “You may never see me again, but I would gladly die knowing you are safe, and would be safe, for the rest of your days. You will grow and learn and love without me, my daughter, and above all else, you will live. There is nothing more that I want than for you to live, Eutropia. I love you.”

“I... I.... I love you too,” the young griffin said, pulling her mother into another tight embrace. She had waited years to hear those words spoken with such truth and emotion, and now she had, even though the timing couldn't have been worse. Rain lashed against them, lightning raged across the sky above them, and the wind pulled at their feathery wings, but the two of them did not care.

“Go,” was all Myrrina said, letting go of her daughter and taking a step back. Eutropia, to her credit, turned almost immediately to leave, stinging tears threatening to burst forth like a wave of sadness. Clambering into the boat with the others, she looked back at her mother, only to see her swallowed up by the thick blankets of rain and the spray of the raging waves.

Then, she let the tears come.

Ebony Blade did not speak as he ferried them across, unwilling to try and lose concentration whilst in the midst of such a storm. Out of the corners of his icy blue eyes, he swore he could see shadows, shapes flying through the thick mist around them, and even bumping into whatever side of the boat he wasn’t paying attention to. He dismissed these as mere tricks of the mind, perhaps nothing more than scared fish bumping them, and the instant he finally reached the other shore, he lassoed the ship to a dock and motioned for them all to get off.

“Your mother was wise to send you with me, young griffin,” the pony said to the crying youngster as they made their way to a small carriage. It was an old one, magically enchanted to move without a power source but still in need of a guiding hand to operate it. Ebony Blade had had it for many years, and it showed.

“Why? Why couldn’t she come with us?” Eutropia choked out as they helped the four mares pile in, managing to squeeze their now-unconscious husband inside as well. The fact that they managed to move him without difficulty showed just how strong these mares really were, and also how resilient in the face of danger. Any other mares would be blubbering messes after the incident with Hyginus and the Censcorpions, but these four were holding their own quite well, something that deep down impressed Eutropia.

“She wanted you safe, and safe I shall keep you,” the stallion replied simply, shutting the door behind the young griffin and locking it. Clambering aboard the front of the carriage, he grabbed the reins and urged the old carriage onward. With a great groan it lurched forward, steadily gaining speed on wheels older than the driver. Blazing down the cobble streets in the middle of the driving wind and rain, the pony watched ahead, his unusual eyesight providing him a greater ability to see in such conditions.

Soon enough, they had reached the far side of the city, and blazing past several abandoned guard posts, they left behind the city of Istanbul.

Inside of the carriage, Queen Chrysalis looked up at the black clouds above her, knowing full well that her retinue could follow her no longer, lest they simply drop from the sky within a week. “Go,” she whispered softly her message spreading through the collective mind of the Censcorpions. “Go, rest in the catacombs.”

With a great shriek from high above that sounded very much like a ghostly wail, the cloud of her personal guard peeled off, flying higher and higher until they had disappeared entirely from view. They would be back where they had started from within only a few days, and there they would rest until they were needed once more.

The queen of the changelings sighed as she let her head fall back, the stress of the day starting to finally fade as the carriage continued its keen pace away from the city, and in time, the lands of the Ottomare Empire. The only thing was, Chrysalis could feel something ahead of them, something she could not quite understand. These lands, they were under the rule of an emperor, but the lands ahead, there... there lay darkness over it, a darkness neither malevolent nor kind. It was a shadow that filtered through all of the inhabitants, spreading like a cancer that never killed, but kept true happiness and peace from the land.

This part of the world was old, far older than most of the nations that graced the face of the Earth. Here, there lay ancient secrets and forgotten places, hidden by time and unknown magic. Darkness and light, good and evil had long fought over and through these lands, never gaining the upper hand for too long and never being extinguished, no matter how hard they tried. The only thing was, here in this place of old colliding with new, what could possibly have such a presence that shadowed over the land like some great blanket of darkness?

They had left behind certain death and unjust imprisonment, but just what in the world were they heading into? “Out of the frying pan, and into the fire, I guess” the queen muttered.

“What?” Trixie and Maria asked, the latter gently stroking her unconscious husband’s face. The dragon moaned softly, as the touch of his wives was a soothing ache to his body. Asalah was too busy comforting the crying Eutropia to notice the conversation, and as the soft wails of the griffin filled the carriage, a shadow seemed to cross over Chrysalis's face.

“I don’t think we’re out of the woods quite yet,” the queen said softly. “We may be in for a different kind of trouble.”

Meanwhile...

Off in the shadows of the city, a lone figure watched the boat cross. Nursing his shattered wrist and tightly wrapping it in a makeshift bandage for the moment, he moved off to find somewhere to weather the storm. There were undoubtedly healers or doctors in this city, and once his wrist was back to full strength, he would set out once more.

He would have his revenge yet, even if it took him to the ends of the Earth.

Eutropia (in her race's armor):