//------------------------------//
// 20 - What was Past is Present 
// Story: An Extended Holiday 
// by Commander_Pensword 
//------------------------------//

Extended Holiday
Chapter 20: What was Past is Present




Grif gasped as he awoke and opened his beak as wide as it would go to purge the carbon dioxide that had built inside his lungs, then take in that sweet life-giving oxygen. A few hacking coughs later, he managed to get his breathing under control and stood from a pile of snow to dislodge the frigid substance from his feathers and fur. With that task complete, he took a moment to view his surroundings. The first thing his eyes picked up was a shaded patch on the snow that wasn’t so blinding as the sunlight overhead. A quick reach for the object revealed the envelope he’d received from the train station with the same intricate design on its front and the seal intact.

“Okay, that is definitely strange,” Grif noted.

A veritable rainbow aurora cascaded through the sky overhead in ribbons of light spreading on for miles upon miles. His eyes followed those ribbons and traced them back into the distance, where a great shining structure glinted like sunlight off a snowbank.

A few moments later, another hunk of snow burst apart as a wadded ball of blue fur and sodden feathers struggled to dislodge the snow that had built up in its silvery-white mane. “I’m up, I’m up!” Pensword cried as his ears twitched and he shook himself like a dog. Then he braced himself to look over the terrain. “Where’s Sombra?” His eyes widened, and he felt over his body while curving his neck around for a proper look at himself. “And more importantly, where’s our gear?”

“I think we’re in trouble,” Grif said, looking at the structure.

Pensword peered around them. “Do you see any sign of Hammer Strike?”

“Shawn?” Grif Called

Pensword frowned as he looked over the terrain until he finally spotted a depression where a tan muzzle and the hint of blue and gold around a hoof poked out of the drift. Water ran down the leg, and the snowmelt had begun to pool around the equine’s muzzle. In a matter of moments, Pensword was bounding and hopping like a bird over the snow with intermittent flaps of his wings before finally landing next to the mass and starting to dig. “He’s over here!”

Grif followed Pensword and helped to dig Hammer Strike out. Pensword propped the stallion’s head up and watched the steady stream of mist that emanated from his nostrils and mouth.

“Well, at least he’s breathing.” Pensword frowned as he felt over the Pony’s forehead. “He feels warm, though. A little too warm, I think. Could he be sick?”

Grif shrugged. “Help me get him on my back.”

It took some effort to coordinate properly, but eventually, Pensword was able to maneuver Hammer Strike to drape over Grif’s back after Grif lowered all fours to give the Pony an easier time with his work. Then Grif rose and nodded toward Pensword.

“I’m going to take a wild guess that we’re heading toward the light?” Pensword asked.

“Where there’s life, there’s hope,” Grif agreed.

“Then I guess we should get moving. It’s going to take us an hour at least to reach it, by my reckoning. Then again, your eyes are better than mine. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“That seems about right.” Grif nodded. “Take it a step at a time.” And with that Grif headed for the light and whatever lay beneath it.

In due course, a familiar structure rose into prominence, only this time the ribbons of light flowed brightly from its top while the bustling sound of mulling crowds mingled with music and the clarion call of a majestic set of horns. Cheers soon followed as the general atmosphere of excitement rumbled from the walls beyond while the trio finally managed to reach a familiar gate with three hovering crystals between its two sides. The snowflake in the street pulsed with energy, and the road was lined with guards at intermittent checkpoints along a clear path leading from the city to what could only be assumed as a caravan route.

“Grif, I’m pretty sure this isn’t the empire we know,” Pensword noted nervously.

“We still need help,” Grif said. Then sighed and shook his head. “But you do have a point. Okay, here’s the story we’re going to use, okay? We were out nearby, and we got attacked by feral Changelings.”

“Are they even a thing this far north?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Pensword sighed. “No, I guess not. But shouldn’t we look like we’ve been in a fight at least?”

Grif pointed to the passed-out Earth Pony on his back.

“I meant the usual signs of a struggle with Changelings, Grif. The ichor, maybe a few scratches, that sort of thing?”

“We’ll have to make it work.”

Pensword sighed. “I suppose so. Do you want to do the talking or should I?”

“You probably should,” Grif said. “We don’t know the situation with Gryphons.”

Pensword sighed and nodded. “I’ll do my best.” With that said, the two made their way silently to the gate. Unlike the empire they had known before, this one was dominated by a massive crystal wall that rose on either side of the gate to encircle the city. The purple crystal glowed with an inner light while the guards stared intently at the approaching party. Pensword forced himself to take on a more rigid appearance as he approached the guards. “My name is Pensword. We’ve traveled a long way, and our leader, Hammer Strike, is in need of medical assistance. Would you kindly direct us to your closest infirmary?”

One member of the guard squinted as he looked Pensword over before stepping forward. “Commander Pensword, and Lord Hammer Strike? You’ll have to forgive us if we doubt that. Last we heard, you had left the kingdom alongside several others after the war was finished.”

“Do we look like we’re in the kingdom of Equestria anymore, soldier?”

“No, but—”

“My lord needs medical attention. We were attacked en route to the empire. If you wish to question us, you can do so after we have ensured his safety. Escort us if you must, but if any further harm comes to him as a result of delay, it will be on your head.”

The guard grit his teeth briefly before turning towards one of the others. “Check them over. If they’re who they say they are, get them inside.”

“That would be highly appreciated,” Grif commented.

“Hold still,” a Unicorn demanded as his horn glowed brightly. His crystalline coat glittered as he cast his spell over each of the trio in turn. He shook his head. “They’re not Changelings, Sir.”

“Coloration and marks all correct?” he questioned. “Apart from the Gryphon, who I would assume is Grif Grafson?”

“Correct,” Grif said.

“If you need to examine our marks, go ahead. We have nothing to hide. But do it quickly. As I said, my lord needs attention. The sooner, the better.”

A close examination left Pensword feeling more than a little exposed as the soldiers each scrutinized his flanks. Fur or not, it still felt strange to be looked over like a prize horse. Still, for the sake of his friend, he bore up under the scrutiny and maintained the mask as the Ponies finally shifted to grif’s back.

“If I so much as see an unnecessary twitch from you, you'll be dead before anyone here realizes it. Is that understood?” Grif asked ominously.

The guard gulped as he approached the stallion.

“Easy there, my friend,” Pensword said as he strode closer to the Gryphon. “The empire and its citizens are our allies. We don’t want to cause a diplomatic incident.”

“If they behave themselves, there will be no incident,” Grif said. “It was just a friendly warning.”

“Th-they’re good,” the examining guard cracked, then cleared his throat to reiterate. “They’re good to go, Sir.”

The guard nodded and gave a small bow to the three. “Forgive us for the rude welcome. The war is still fresh in our people’s minds. Welcome to the Crystal Empire.”

“Could you by chance suggest an inn? Preferably one that would accept my lord’s credit? Seeing as we are unfortunately light on bits.”

“The inn near the castle will accept the three of you. Given who you are, I doubt you’ll be charged for your stay.” The guard looked to one of his subordinates. “Private Quartz, lead them to the Queen’s Tavern. Notify the Palace Guard about their arrival, and their need of a medic as well. I’m sure Queen Blood Diamond would like an audience once everyone is well.”

“Merci.” Grif gave a nod and moved to follow the guard. Pensword followed closely at his side to keep Hammer Strike in place on the Gryphon’s back.





Hammer Strike gave a faint groan as he placed a hoof on his head. The rustling of sheets sounded loudly in his ears as the material dragged against his fur. “Ex Divinia etiam,” he muttered. “What hit me?”

“Time portal, I think,” Grif said.

“Huh?” Hammer Strike blinked a few times as he looked to Grif, followed by scanning the room around them. “What?”

“Well, we seem to be in the Crystal Empire’s past with none of our gear,” Grif said.

The door creaked open to reveal a familiar Pegasus bearing a basket full of crystal berries. “I asked them if we could get some fruit to help speed your recovery when you wake up,” he said by way of explanation after noting the Earth Pony’s flat gaze. “Do you feel well enough to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m just … confused.” Hammer Strike frowned and waited for the Pony to leave before turning his attention to his friends. “How the hell did you guys find out we’re apparently in the past?”

“They mentioned a war that just ended. Plus, the Crystal Ponies are all actually bright and shiny crystal instead of what we dealt with before. That, and the whole empire is surrounded by a massive crystal wall complete with what appears to be a guard force not unlike what we saw back in Canterlot.” Pensword shrugged. “Also, they have a queen that’s going to want an audience with us after you finish recovering.” He hefted the basket onto the Pony’s bed. “Eat up.”

“Will do. Just give me a second to think.” Hammer Strike sighed as he took hold of one of the offered berries. “What’s our cover?”

“We were hunting feral Changelings north of Equestria and our squad got overrun. We managed to escape, but you exhausted yourself creating an opening.”

“And they just bought that?”

“Apparently, there is more to these three than we were let on,” Grif said, gesturing to themselves. “A hell of alot more.”

“What do you mean? They just said the forms we take would be what we technically would be here.”

Grif dropped a scroll in front of Hammer Strike with a coat of arms. “Borrowed this from a local scribe. This is the insignia of House Strike, one of equestria’s oldest, wealthiest, and most revered noble houses. Also, it only has one living member at this time.”

Hammer Strike looked bewildered as he looked at the sigil, a longsword inside a pair of curving feathered wings shaped like a crescent. “That’s my mark,” he said as he continued to study it.

“Yeah,” Grif nodded. “Apparently, Lord Hammer Strike’s house owns debts all over Equis. Half this hotel was financed with a loan from a bank in that name. They comped the room and the visit from a doctor and told us anything we need is complimentary. Yes, I tested that. They brought us three hundred bits to use as on-hand money because I asked if they had any liquid assets we could borrow. And they told me not to dare pay it back.”

“It’s much the same story with the berries,” Pensword agreed. “I hate to say it, but it looks like we’re nobility here. At least Hammer Strike is.”

“So, there was a version of ‘us’ technically already. Given the time travel, I assume we’re far enough that these heroes have already passed by our present.” Hammer Strike frowned. “That’s … a very strange concept to think about.”

“If we see David Tennant, I’m going to freak out,” Pensword said.

Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “Didn’t you meet The Doctor, Grif?”

“Spoilers.” Grif smirked.

“Good enough for an answer.” Hammer Strike sighed. “In any case, after we’re done with these berries, I suppose we’re due for an audience.”

“It is customary for nobility,” Pensword agreed. “And as a prominent figure in Equestria, the queen would want to make sure of your wellbeing for the sake of keeping good relations with the princesses, if nothing else.”

“Then, let’s get to it.”

“You’re sure you’re well enough to go to the palace?” Pensword asked.

“The worst part of it is that I just feel slightly drained. Apart from that, I’m fine.”

Pensword nodded. “Then I’ll ask for someone to notify the queen.”





The Crystal Palace throne room was much the same as they had left it in the future, with one exception. It was now vastly more populated by all manner of Ponies from crystal guards to crystal servants to crystal courtiers and petitioners. The guards that lined the hall emanated an aura of menace and training that the guard of their present day seemed to lack in Equestria. These Ponies were taller, more muscular, and each bore a lance that could just as easily skewer a person as it would welcome them in a ceremony. Tapestries, banners, and shields adorned the walls depicting frightening beasts and great battles while ancient weapons sat patiently as a reminder of the power of rulers and warriors past.

Unlike the throne room at Canterlot, however, there was also an aspect of levity and merriment that mingled with the gravity. Jesters and fools juggled and exchanged jokes while foals giggled and raced through the hall on either side of the great red carpet.

And there, smiling and overseeing this ordered chaos was a beatific mare with fur the color of red wine with an even darker red mane. Her body was adorned with a luxurious purple cloak trimmed with fur. A necklace draped around her neck, portraying a crystal heart rimmed in a white gold setting. A circlet of the same material rested on her head just above her horn. A single green emerald was set at the front to offset the silvery color of the metal.

One of the guards flipped his lance with expert skill and rapped the butt of it loudly against the floor, bringing silence to the hall as everyone in the room turned their attention toward the entrance.

“Presenting Lord Hammer Strike of House Strike, Hero of Equestria, Scourge of Gryphons, and Protector of the Realm; Grif Grafson, Bloodsworn Warrior and Steadfast Retainer to his master, the Left Hand to his Lord; and Commander Pensword of Their Highness’s Royal Military, Lord of Mountainside Falls, Defender of the Crowns.”

The queen lowered her head in acknowledgement of the trio. “Welcome to my court, all of you. It is not often one is able to stand in the presence of legends, let alone host them as guests. Please, approach.”

Hammer Strike took the lead. “We are thankful for your hospitality, especially given we did not anticipate our arrival here.”

“Your arrival is nonetheless welcome. I am told you were seeking out the hives of rogue Changelings. It would appear that your reputation for service to others is well earned. While we are willing, and even happy, to trade love with the hives surrounding our home, there are those who do not respect the agreements that have been made with the queens to maintain those ties. I trust your injuries were not too severe?”

“Not at all. It was more a case of exhaustion from overexertion than anything,” he replied dismissively.

“Though it would seem someone took advantage of that exertion, if reports are to be believed. Or did circumstances force your retainers to leave their weapons behind for your sake?”

“With all due respect,” Grif commented, “a Gryphon is never truly disarmed.”

“Be that as it may, it is unusual, to say the least, for one to travel across our realm without the proper equipment. Lesser Ponies would have succumbed to the cold before reaching our city. You doubtless would prefer to have some manner of weapon about your person, if nothing else. If it is your wish, you may use our smithy for that purpose. I would offer you the use of our smiths, but I am only too aware of the pride you take in your work, Lord Hammer Strike.”

“I would appreciate that.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“Is there anything further you will require during your stay?” she asked carefully. “I assure you if it is within our power, we will be happy to grant it to you.”

Hammer Strike shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Access to the forges here will be enough to deal with our lack of equipment.”

She nodded. “I’ll have materials provided to you. The best we can spare.” She looked around curiously. “Where is Ambrosia?”

One of the guards cleared his throat. “Hunting after the foals, Your Majesty. You did order him to keep an eye on them and keep them out of trouble.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Have him brought here immediately.”

The guard bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.” And then he departed.

“Our royal cousin Ambrosia shall see to your needs and guide you to wherever you wish to go. And assuming you are amenable, I hope you three will join us at dinner tonight for a feast to celebrate your many feats on behalf of our empire and Equestria against the Gryphons and their Emperor.”

Hammer Strike bowed his head. “It would be rude of me not to accept, though you need not put on something so extravagant on our account.”

Grif bowed his head in agreement.

“Nonsense.” Queen Blood Diamond smiled. “It is a privilege to have you here.”

Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “Nevertheless, we appreciate everything. Until then, Your Majesty.”





The grand feasting hall was full to the brim with merriment and cheerful chatter as the nobles of the court all joined at the table. Rather than the dreadful sense of formality that generally hangs over such gatherings, there was instead the feeling of family as various Ponies, primarily Unicorns, played and joked with one another. Some squirted water from the bowls typically used to clean their hooves while others whispered playfully into others’ ears. Even the staff smiled indulgently as they waited by the tables to clear away the trays when it was time to present the proper courses. True to any royal feast, Hammer Strike sat as the guest of honor on the opposite head of the table, flanked on either side by Pensword and Grif.

All three companions were relieved that the formality had been kept to a minimum. However, they couldn’t help but let their eyes fall to the one figure who stood out most, not only for the lack of a crystal coat, but for the prominent beard and eccentric bells that jangled from his cloak. Star Swirl the Bearded sat before them in the flesh, just a few seats away from the queen and her consorts.

“Star Swirl, you are, of course, ever aware of these three, are you not?” Blood Diamond asked.

The elderly stallion started briefly in his chair, then nodded deferentially to the queen. “One does one’s best to maintain ties to the land of his birth, Your Majesty. If even half of what the tales say are true, then they are a force to be reckoned with, indeed.”

“We try our best.” Grif smirked as he ate.

A few of the diners looked uneasily at the Gryphon, but kept their peace.

“Though we’ve certainly had our fair share of close calls, wouldn’t you say, Grif?” Pensword asked.

“Yup. But that’s what makes it worthwhile.” Grif smirked. “Isn’t that right, my lord?”

“Each encounter gives room for growth.” Hammer Strike nodded.

A wry smile twisted Star Swirl’s beard. His eyes twinkled, but not with suppressed mirth. “Indeed. Though some of that growth does regrettably come at a price. And sometimes a painful one.” He rose to his hooves and raised his glass. “If I may ask for your indulgence, Your Majesty, I wish to propose a toast.”

“Of course, Star Swirl. Let's hear what you have to say.” Blood Diamond gave a gracious nod.

“To Hammer Strike, the princesses, and their many allies, for all they have done to preserve Equestria and her friends against a threat that would seek to consume the world if left unchecked. And most importantly of all, to the many mares and stallions who gave their lives to ensure that we may continue to live in peace and thrive. You have helped Equestria to grow more than you know, Hammer Strike. And I believe that there are yet many more great things that you will do for your country before the end. May you be blessed with the wisdom and the judgment of a ruler and a scholar toward that end. And may your friends be by your side to bring that future to fruition from past, present, and future for all.”

Hammer Strike blinked in surprise at the stallion. “That is … quite the wish, particularly coming from you, Star Swirl. I suppose all that is left to do is to accept those well wishes and hope that we might indeed be able to fulfill them for Equestria’s future.”

“Then to Lord Hammer Strike, the princesses, and to Equestria’s future. May it be bright as our glorious empire!” Blood Diamond nodded, adding her wishes to the toast before taking a drink.

“Hear hear!” the table erupted as the Ponies each drank from their glasses.

“Let the feast begin!” Blood Diamond called to her servants, who immediately moved into action.

The palace staff moved with the speed of Pegasi and the efficiency of Unicorns. Three tinier forms moved a little more slowly as they carried the tray meant for Hammer Strike. A small pink Pegasus balanced it on her head while a deep blue colt’s horn worked to keep the tray from falling off. The smallest “servant” was a cute little yellow Unicorn whose magic intertwined with the blue colt’s to keep the tray level until the food could be properly presented to the visiting lord.

A stallion with charcoal fur and a black mane stiffened at the sight of the foals. His green eyes flashed with growing indignation as he drew the queen’s attention and subtly pointed toward the end of the table where the trio sat, gesturing with his horn.

The taller pink mare bowed as the two younger foals levitated Hammer Strike’s food in place. “We hope you enjoy the food, Lord Strike,” she said.

The other two followed the pink one’s lead and uttered in semi-chorus, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m sure I will. And thank you three.” Hammer Strike gave a gentle smile.

The pink mare squeed and grinned, shaking in place while The other two looked on with eager expressions. Finally, the blue one couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.

“Did you really take on a whole army by yourself?” he asked.

“Did you really die and come back to life?” the yellow one pushed.

Not to be outdone by the other two, the pink one finally lost her cool and joined in. “Can Thestrals really enter Ponies’ dreams?”

Hammer Strike blinked a few times as he looked to the children before him. “Uh, well … technically yes, technically yes once again, and I suppose it depends on the third.”

“Children, where are your manners?” Blood Diamond chided the foals with an indulgent smile. “You didn’t even introduce yourselves.”

All three of the children stiffened as the tray the eldest was carrying clattered to the floor.

“Somebody got busted,” Pensword whispered.

The Pegasus mare grimaced and nodded in embarrassed acknowledgement to the queen. “Yes, Mother.” Then she bowed to the trio and looked regretfully at them with soulful eyes. “Sorry for lying to you. We just wanted to meet you in person, and Mother won’t let us sit with the adults yet. I’m Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, and these are my brother and sister, Prince Bellacosa and Princess Alto. You can call me Cady or Cadance for short.”

Hammer Strike gave a gentle smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you three.”

Pensword stared with wide eyes at the filly, then looked between Grif and Hammer Strike. A subtle nod from the pair was all he needed before he reined himself back in. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, your daughter carries her mother’s smile and a similar warmth. And I appreciate how she puts herself on the line for her siblings by drawing attention to herself first and foremost. Those are the budding traits of a natural leader. And while my input is meaningless, I believe her conduct does you and her instructors credit.” He allowed himself a smile. “Even if she is a little impatient.”

“Patience comes with time,” Grif said, taking a drink. “As does wisdom.”

The stallion at the queen’s side cleared his throat. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I’ll escort the children to their rooms. I believe it is far past their normal bedtimes.” He fixed a chilling gaze in the direction of the servants. “Rest assured, I’ll launch an investigation into who assisted the foals and have them properly chastened for this impropriety. I’ll also have a word with their bodyguards.”

“Oh, let it slide, Ambrosia.” She rolled her eye’s.

“But, Your Majesty—”

“Just take them to their nannies.”

Ambrosia’s eye twitched briefly before he managed to regain control and forced his face into a stiff mask. “As Her Majesty commands.” He bowed, then strode over to the trio as his horn ignited and green magic surrounded his horn and the foals. “Come along, you three. I’m sure your caretakers will be very interested to hear about your latest adventure.”

Cadance remained in a dignified silence while Cosy and Alto squirmed and otherwise struggled against the magic that held them until they all left through a set of double doors, leaving the feasting hall in the silence that followed.

Grif’s gaze trailed after Ambrosia as he strained to keep a neutral expression on his face. For some reason, he felt a keen dislike for the stallion that seemed to reach deep into his soul and wrap around his heart like fire.

“When the meal is done, I’ll have you shown to the forges and any other facilities you may need,” Blood Diamond explained. “As I've stated, should you require anything, just ask the servants.”

Hammer Strike inclined his head. “You have our thanks, Your Majesty. And should time allow, I would enjoy the opportunity to know your children better. Perhaps when it isn’t past their bedtime.”

“The sentiment is much appreciated.” The queen smiled as she finished her plate and laid her fork down. “Forgive me. I’m afraid I have to take my leave. There are certain matters to attend to before I sleep. Please, enjoy the rest of the meal. I will send for you after a suitable time is found for a less formal introduction to the children.” And with that farewell, she rose to her hooves, nodded to her court, and departed flanked by a pair of Crystal Pony guards.





The suite they had been offered was the definition of luxury as a great crystal bedframe shone in a gentle soothing rainbow to help lull guests to sleep. The bedding was soft and well-kept. It was a shame that the intended occupant would hardly use it after so much effort was put into its preparation. Two more smaller beds had been carried in for Pensword and Grif to occupy, so that they could remain close to their lord. A sitting room and a fireplace laid in wait for the trio to use, complete with chairs and small side tables to hold their goods. It was no royal palace, but it was functional, and the opulence was mingled with functionality, just the way Hammer Strike liked it.

“Okay,” Pensword said as he settled into one of the chairs, “did anybody else notice how familiar a certain filly was tonight?”

“Yes.” Grif nodded. “I think that complicates the narrative noticeably.”

“Let’s be honest,” Hammer Strike sighed. “Everything complicates this narrative. Wrong era, we have incorrect forms or something along those lines, and we don’t even have an idea for how to get home.”

“That’s definitely a problem,” Pensword agreed and frowned. “Considering how things went to get us in this situation in the first place, maybe we can find some of our answers in your letters. You guys still have your envelopes, right?”

Grif pulled out his envelope from a dresser drawer while Hammer Strike reached into his coat to retrieve his. Grif slit his envelope open carefully with a talon and slid the single sheet of paper out. He unfolded it and looked at what was written, his eyes widening as he continued to scroll down the page.

Hammer Strike hummed questioningly at the Gryphon’s behavior while Pensword frowned.

“What is it, Grif?” the Pegasus asked.

The air became heavy with the weight of the words the Gryphon recited.

“In past, a bright land of the north lies ’neath the frozen skies.
While peace seems firm at hand, the dark lord shall arise.
A call to aid, a call to arms, a call you now must heed.
Turn not aside when godly fare is tainted by his greed.
To the traveling mare from lands beyond, make sure the heir is turned.
To the other two, a haven make. Your protection shall not be spurned.
When hope is low and times are dark, an ember you must blaze.
And from the low and fearful marks, an army you will raise.
With words bold and powerful, allay all of their fears.
But be warned, for by the end, it shall be you who sheds the tears.
And be prepared upon the moment to lay your binding oath.
For though this now won’t be the time it comes eventually with growth.
The dark lord’s reign will be undone, oathkeeper must take wing.
Then in the end, when times arise, become the knight who takes the king.”

“Ominous,” Pensword noted as he looked gravely toward his friend.

Hammer Strike frowned. “Considering the last one came true, I should probably get to work in the forge sooner, rather than later.” 

“A war,” Grif said, still somewhat shocked. “I'm supposed to fight a war?”

“Not alone.” Pensword sighed. “But it will be war all the same.” He shook his head. “The Changeling invasion all over again, only worse. And I doubt it’s going to be as short.”

“Or as easy,” Grif said.

“It’s a war we won’t be able to win alone,” Pensword agreed. “What concerns me most, aside from the talk of tears, is this mysterious mare. If we don’t get Cadance to safety, she’ll never be our Cadance in the future. And without her, Equestria’s future could very well collapse. You know who she helps to raise.”

“We’ll figure something out, though it may take time to do so.” Hammer Strike’s frown deepened.

“We’ll need to take steps to prepare. We know Sombra uses dark magic. And we know that magic can’t stand up to the power generated by the crystal heart. That means whoever eventually becomes Sombra will make a move on the artifact and on the queen. Not necessarily in that order.” Pensword rubbed his chin.

“That part’s easy,” Grif said

“What did you have in mind?” Pensword asked.

“I meant who Sombra is,” Grif clarified

“And?”

“Even if it wasn’t written out for us, I’ve suspected the queen’s cousin since I first saw him. Something about him. He just has this … aura of awful.”

“And you can tell that just from one or two times seeing him? We haven’t even talked with him directly yet,” Pensword noted.

Grif shrugged. “I dunno. I just … don’t like him. And then this letter mentioned the ‘fare of the gods.’ In Greek mythology, the gods consumed Ambrosia.”

Pensword frowned. “You know, if this is meant to happen as a fixed point in time, like in Doctor Who, then we can’t try to prevent what’s going to come. All we can do is prepare for it and try to protect ourselves and as many people as we can.”

“Yeah.” Grif sighed. “The main question seems to be when. I feel like we’re going to be here a while.”

“If we want to stand a chance of keeping the children safe and training up a force to fight back, we’re going to need at least some experienced hands to help. And someone versed enough in magic to be able to help counter whatever spells Sombra might try.” He turned to Hammer Strike. “I hate to say it, but we may have to spill the beans to Star Swirl. If anyone might understand all of this, it’s him. And he’s probably one of the most powerful magic users in Equestrian history, not to mention the oldest.”

“Given some of his glances toward us, I have the feeling he knows something already, but yeah, I’ll have to schedule a meeting with him sometime soon.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“I guess I’ll try to build a relationship with the foals, then. We can’t protect them if we don’t have their trust.” Pensword stretched his wings. “And not to brag, but I was pretty good with kids back home. I’m sure I can manage.”

“Well then, I guess we should get to it, then.” Grif nodded. “I’m going to see if I can get some private time on the guards’ training grounds to practice.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “Then it’s agreed. Considering the hour, it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to find Star Swirl right away, but I’ll see what I can do.”

A heavy hoof knocked officiously on the other side of the door.

Hammer Strike frowned as he stood and moved to the door. “I don’t believe we were expecting someone….”

A crystal guard saluted to the Pony. “Lord Hammer Strike, I come bearing a message from Star Swirl the Bearded.” He passed a letter over to the stallion. “He requests an audience with you at your earliest convenience.”

Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “That, … we can do. We’ll set off shortly.”

The soldier nodded. “With your permission, I’ll escort you to his quarters myself.”





Star Swirl’s personal chambers were not the mad scientist’s lab one might have expected out of such an accomplished Pony. Instead, the chamber was laid out with reasonable accommodations for his needs. A comfortable bed, a book shelf with a modest collection of volumes ranging from history to basic magical theory and potion brewing, and what appeared to be a basic chemistry set.

“So, you’ve come,” Star Swirl said. There was no greeting, merely the forced analytical calm of a scientist performing an experiment. Or perhaps in this case, an investigator working on a case. He looked dismissively at the guard. “You may leave us.”

The crystal guard bowed. “Of course, Your Excellency.”

Hammer Strike raised a brow questioningly. “I have the feeling this is going to be a fun conversation.”

“Less conversation and more confirmation,” Star Swirl noted. “Let’s drop any pretenses, gentlemen, and get straight to the point. You haven’t fought in the Third Gryphon War, have you?”

Hammer Strike sighed. “No, we have not.”

“I appreciate your candor.” Star Swirl raised his horn and a flash of white light flowed over the space, passing by the trio and clinging to the walls and door. With the spell securely in place, he nodded. “That should allow us to speak freely as well as frankly. Now, tell me, how is it that you came to pose as three of the greatest heroes in Equestria’s recent history?”

“They were forms given to us by Celestia and Luna. It was, however, under the notion that we would take the forms we could have had, were we born in Equestria.” Hammer Strike sighed. “They didn’t say anything after we were given said forms, and we even decided upon the names ourselves, not knowing we were, as you put it, posing as great heroes.”

“You speak so casually of the princesses. They do love their subjects, but few are able to develop such a close relationship with them. As for forms, that implies that you are not what you appear to be. Why would you feel the need to change your form?”

“To put it simply, our forms are very … unique to the land we hail from, and would cause more attention than needed.”

“And how did you come to know the princesses?”

“To be honest, it was just luck.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Of all the places we could have arrived, we … may have landed in her rose garden.”

“And you weren’t executed. Very fortunate, indeed.” There was a hint of a scoff there, but behind those hard eyes, a flicker of uncertainty lingered.

“We’re not lying,” Pensword said.

Uncertainty yielded to indignation. “But you aren’t telling the whole truth either, are you?” Star Swirl countered.

“Because the truth, in this case, leads to disbelief. If you truly want to know, then I will tell you as much,” Hammer Strike spoke up. “We three do not hail from Equis. We found ourselves shifted between the worlds and landed here. It is why we were given these forms, and why we came to the empire from our point of time, though a being known as Sombra certainly made this more difficult than needed,” he muttered the last part.

“I can only assume that since the princesses didn’t deign to correct you on your choice of names that you clearly didn’t ‘shift between worlds’ in this time.” He rolled his eyes. “I take it a certain individual by the name of The Doctor had something to do with this?”

“No. An individual of the empire, who we have a rough idea of who it may be, used dark magics, and I believe attempted to banish us beyond the time of the empire itself. The last thing he remarked was of us perhaps one day being found in a glacier. Fortunately, his plan appears to have failed, just not completely.”

Star Swirl frowned. “It is theoretically possible. Time magic is a dangerous subject to dabble into, but the dark arts are capable of branching into such places without the time and preparation our usual spells would require,” he mused. “You say he intended to place you beyond even the Crystal Empire’s founding. Did you notice anything that happened before you were pulled through this portal?”

“There were a few things that happened, but I’d need a more narrow field before I could give you anything concrete.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Even then, I may not remember everything, though Pensword and Grif might remember more.”

Pensword furrowed his brow in thought. “I remember his laughter, and the barrier dropping. After that, … it’s tough to say. I thought I might have heard a scream, but I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Grif? Do you remember anything else? You’ve got that telescopic vision birds are supposed to have, right?”

“The shield that had been put up weakened, the sky darkened. It looked like there were bits of dark crystal, if I remember correctly,” Grif said.

“Dark crystal….” Star Swirl rubbed his chin in thought. “Crystals are a common focus used in magical rituals. The larger or more complex the crystal, the more capable it is of channeling and holding magic. Your enemy may have been drawing on these crystals to supplement their power. But if what you say is true, then depending on the number of years by which you were displaced, it would have taken a vast amount of stored energy, even with dark magic, a network nearly as intricate as the empire itself.”

”Considering the empire was displaced until recently in our present day, we were given a rough estimate of a thousand years,” Hammer Strike replied.

“One thousand years?” Star Swirl balked. His legs buckled, and he stumbled backward before regaining his footing. “That kind of power is not gained easily. Either your adversary struck a bargain that stretches far beyond the realm of deadly or the focus this Sombra crafted would have to be the opposite of the Crystal Empire itself, augmenting and amplifying dark emotions to feed into the magic of the designated recipient.”

Hammer Strike blinked a few times. “That … makes more sense, actually,” he muttered in thought. “Sombra had control of the empire. It would explain every issue encountered in trying to ‘save’ the empire.”

Star Swirl scowled. “I don’t approve of time travel, but one principle I learned from The Doctor’s teachings to my former pupil is the need to avoid altering the course of events in a fixed point in time, lest a paradox ensue and unravel the fabric of the universe. Normally, I would advise defeating this Sombra before he or she has the chance to succeed. But if they exist in your time, then I can only surmise that we must allow events to unfold and minimize the fallout as much as possible.”

“Indeed. Though, we did have some additional guidance as well, which leads me to believe someone else is messing with things on the outside as well,” Hammer Strike replied as he reached into his coat and pulled out his letter. “We were each given a letter with some guiding words on them.”

“Mine’s already been finished for what it had to say,” Pensword said. “It’s what got us positioned for our first encounter with Sombra.”

“And mine is more a series of vague instructions of what to do,” Grif said.

Hammer Strike proceeded to open his letter and blinked as he stared at the paper.

“Well? Out with it. What does it say?” Star Swirl demanded impatiently.

“Hold on. Give him a minute,” Grif growled.

“That’s … not pleasant,” Hammer Strike remarked slowly as he closed the message. “H-how do you even make a letter do this?”

“Do what?” Star Swirl asked as he gazed from the paper to the Pony, then to his two companions.

“It was just… one word. But the moment I read it, it felt like something just wormed its way into my mind.”

Pensword frowned. “Wormed? We’re not talking like some kind of parasite, are we?”

Grif looked back at the discarded envelope, then stared intently before moving to seize the object. When he pulled it open, a second slip of paper slid out easily into his grasp. Its message was in simple Equestrian, and the Gryphon chose to read it aloud. “He’ll be a moment. He’s just absorbed a lot of information, and psychic transfer can throw you off if you're not used to it.”

Pensword facehoofed. “And now we know Timelord shenanigans are involved.”

“Timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly.” Grif smirked.

“Should we be looking for the Brigadier, then, too?” Pensword sighed and shook his head. “Talk about a headache and a half.”

“Brigadier?” Star Swirl looked confusedly at the Pegasus.

“A rank of military command associated with a unique nation from where we originally came.”

“I … see. And you expect someone of this rank to also be here? Possibly to assist you in the resistance that must be raised?”

Pensword shook his head. “It’s doubtful. If there is a counterpart for him here, we haven’t met him before.”

“It’s complicated,” Grif said. “That's the best way to put it.”

“You are referring to the existence of potential dimensional counterparts in worlds that are closely aligned to yours, correct?” Star Swirl asked academically.

Grif nodded. “In a sense, yes, though there are notable complications to it.”

“Two days,” Hammer Strike suddenly spoke up. “Two days after this conversation, everything will reach its tipping point.”

Star Swirl’s beard whipped over his shoulder with the speed at which he turned his head to stare at the stallion. “You’re certain?”

“It’s what I was … told?” He seemed uncertain how to explain it. “There’s a lot of information, but it was all tied to the fact that it was two days from our first meeting with you. This very conversation.”

“And the empire will fall?” Star Swirl pressed.

“Not entirely, but enough for it to be lost to time for at least a thousand years. Alongside two members of the royal family, Cadance needs to be away from the Crystal Empire when the end draws near.”

“And the queen? What is to be her fate? Will she be kept as a slave or will the usurper kill her?”

“Her death is what begins this chain of events.” Hammer Strike frowned.

“If we are to protect the children, we’ll need her permission to take them away at the time without arousing suspicion,” Star Swirl mused.

Pensword shook his head. “It’s doubtful that we can manage that. Even if we’re trusted allies, the queen wouldn’t entrust the children strictly to our care alone. They’ll have to at least have some guards or attendants with them when they meet with us.”

“That is not a bad thing in and of itself,” Star Swirl noted. “Indeed, they will be able to assist you with the protective measures that the empire has in place for such a situation. It was a plan implemented when war was declared officially against Gryphonia. In the event that an enemy force should manage to take control, our resources are to be locked or otherwise hidden or shut down and the children are to be flown to a safehouse with a direct connection to the empire’s allies to the south. It is known as the Scattered Wind Protocol, in part due to the nature of the deities our former enemies worship.”

“Won’t our enemy know about that, though?” Pensword asked.

“It’s possible,” Star Swirl admitted, “but even if he did, it’s unlikely he would be able to reach it before you can get a distress signal to the princesses. He will be too busy consolidating power here in the city and trying to round up any stragglers who could oppose him. With the combined efforts of Hammer Strike, Grif, and myself, we should be able to distract the usurper long enough to give you the chance to get away with the foals.”

“It would be better if we could get them away before this coup has the chance to start,” Pensword noted.

“Do that, and the usurper may not act. If this Sombra wishes to consolidate power, then he will want to completely destroy the main bloodline. He’ll wait until he has the chance to kill them all in one stroke. The queen, her remaining consort, and the foals,” Star Swirl pointed out.

“So we stick with the foals,” Grif said

“This is going to be quite complicated.” Hammer Strike sighed. “But, we’ll manage. We just need the right plan. That, and I need to equip us,” he added, looking at their lack of gear.

“Can you manage that alone in two days’ time?” Star Swirl asked.

“If I don’t take breaks or get interrupted often, … maybe.” Hammer Strike frowned. “Based off the difference in mass, so long as I can make equipment to deal with the vitals first and extra as afterwards.” He muttered in thought as he went through his own plans.

“You’re probably going to need our measurements, then,” Pensword said. “And then we’re going to have to figure out how to keep close to the foals.”

“I’ll take the proper steps to protect my research,” Star Swirl noted. “The usurper won’t ever be able to access it, even over my dead body. Not that I expect to die, mind you.”

“If there is nothing else to discuss at this moment, then we should get to planning. Star Swirl, I assume you’ll be dealing with your own preparations for a time, based on what you just said. As such, you will find myself likely in the forge for the next two days, should you wish to discuss things further for this,” Hammer Strike spoke up.

“I’ll make sure to keep things general for convenience’s sake. While the queen may have offered you the use of the forge, that doesn’t mean our enemy won’t have ears extended to hear us.”

“I’m going to the training grounds,” Grif said. “I need to brush up on my technique.”

Pensword sighed. “I guess that leaves me to regale the foals with stories and build trust.”

“As much as I don’t like the idea of it, we do look like heroes.” Hammer Strike sighed. “We’ll have to use that to our advantage in this situation.”

“I take no pleasure in lying about this, but it would appear we have little choice in the matter. I will continue to cover for the three of you. If you have any questions about your roles in the recent wars, you may ask me. I will provide what information I can. I’ve not set hoof in Equestria for a long time, but I know enough to help you play your parts if you are interested,” Star Swirl said.

“Set up a time after I’ve finished playing with the foals, and I’ll be there,” Pensword promised.

Grif stretched in a very feline manner, then nodded toward his friends. “Well, let’s get started.”





Critical Flaw was not the kind of Pony one would expect to make it in the military with such a name. Many would think it implied a weakness. He used this to his advantage in his service. Those who underestimated him soon found out the real purpose behind his name, and the special talent he had developed. It was not his own flaws that were to be feared, but rather how easily he could find those faults in others and exploit them to achieve his goals.

Such a frightful gift was not to be taken lightly, and the queen saw the potential for such talent immediately. The war had ended too soon for him to be of use to their allies, but now he had a second chance in service to Hammer Strike and his companions. Even if it was the mere delivery of a message, he was proud to be of service to the heroes who had sacrificed so much to protect their way of life.

The stallion strode up the stairs and knocked heavily on the suite doors, as per Hammer Strike’s instructions. He also made sure to brace himself. Also per Hammer Strike’s instructions.

It took a full minute and a half before something finally found the door. It opened a small crack to reveal an angry blue eye looking through it. “Yes?”

“Hammer Strike ordered me to bring you this.” The stallion pushed the envelope he carried through the crack and waited. “He also told me to wait until you finish reading it.”

“One moment.” Grif groaned as he closed the door and opened the locks before opening it fully. He looked at the stallion with tired eyes as he picked up the envelope. “You might as well come inside.”

The guard nodded and did as instructed. Pensword rubbed his eyes as he blinked blearily at the stallion.

“Hammer Strike?” Pensword asked through a yawn?

“Yes, Sir,” Critical Flaw returned respectfully. “Though I don’t know exactly what he wants.”

Pensword turned to the Gryphon. “Well, Grif? What does the letter say?”

“He wants us to come meet him immediately.” Grif yawned.

Pensword glimpsed out the window. The night sky was still dark overhead, lit with the ribbons of light that flowed from the castle. “Has he been working all night?”

“Certainly up to this point, Sir,” Critical Flaw said. “I’d say that isn’t healthy for a stallion, but given what you all faced in the war, I suppose this is likely usual for you.”

“Certainly for our lord,” Pensword agreed, then sighed. “Well, then, I suppose we should get going immediately. Will you guide us to the castle forges, soldier?”

Critical Flaw nodded. “Assuming your business here is concluded. If not, I can wait until you are ready to depart.”

“He knew what he was doing. He can wait until I have my coffee,” Grif grumbled as he took out a cup. “What about you?” He looked to the guard.

“Not while I’m on duty, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Grif shrugged as he went to making a cup of coffee and drinking it.

“Is he … always like this when he first wakes?” Critical Flaw asked of the Pegasus.

“You happened to catch him on one of the good wakings. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch you if you tried to wake him in person,” Pensword explained.

“Warrior’s instinct?”

“Something like that,” Pensword replied as he looked to his friend. “Never really took a liking to the stuff, myself.”

“Your lack of taste is not my issue,” Grif snarked.

Thirty minutes later, the trio were traveling through the corridors of the crystal palace en route to the forges. The ring of metal and the increased temperature radiating from the crystals made it only too clear how close they had come to their destination. The forges themselves were well-ventilated, the work tables neatly organized, and the tools held efficiently in their various cubbies and on their pegs to await retrieval. However, unlike the other forges in Equestria, where coal was the primary fuel for the flame, these were instead kept running through the use of crystals and crystal powders that the fires consumed greedily.

Hammer Strike hunched over a leatherworking table, tracing a blade over thick cured hide while stout needle and thread awaited his use. A long strap sat to his side while identical cutouts of leather awaited his touch.

“Lord Hammer Strike,” Critical Flaw called to the stallion. “I’ve brought your companions, as requested.”

“Good,” Hammer Strike replied, not taking his eyes off his work. “That’s all I need for the time being, but if you’re able, please station yourself outside the door, as I may have use for your talent.”

“My … talent, Sir?”

“Given your name and position, I have a feeling I know what your skill set is.”

“If … I can be of service, I’ll do what I can for you, Sir.”

“I’ll call upon you when the time comes.”

“As you wish, Lord Hammer Strike. Though I would ask your permission to speak with my commanding officer first.”

“Of course.” Hammer Strike finally looked away from his work. “Sorry, I get ahead of myself sometimes.”

Critical Flaw nodded. “I’ll return as soon as I am able.” And with that said, the soldier departed, leaving the three friends alone to their own devices.

“So what required you to wake us up this early?” Grif asked

“I’ve finished making your weapons,” Hammer Strike directed their attention to a nearby worktable. “Beyond that, I need to gather measurements to actually make your armor.”

“You need a hand with the measuring tape?” Pensword asked.

“I think I’ve got it covered. Thankfully, working with my hooves so long actually helped with fine control. First things first, your weapons.”

Grif looked over the table carefully. He reached out and grabbed the handles of two similar-looking swords. The handles were made of brass. They were thin with straight cross hilts. The blade in his right hand was broad, double-edged, and came to a vicious point. The off-handed blade was just as long and double-edged, but far thinner than the first. They both seemed to be made of a strange crystalline metal with the broad blade being a milky green and the thin blade a deep blue. “A new metal you were experimenting with?” Grif asked as he gave the blades some experimental swings to test their weight and symmetry.

“The Crystal Empire has quite the variety of materials to work with,” he explained. “That, I believe, was just crystalline steel, which should hold some better properties, given our environment.”

Pensword picked up a simple shortsword. “This was good enough for me before. It’ll serve me well enough now.” He chuckled. “It’s the closest thing I’ve got, since we don’t have a crossbow for me to use. Think we might be able to sneak onto the practice field to ‘break these weapons in?’”

“Actually, you should be clear to use them at any hour,” Hammer Strike replied.

“Good. I want to get used to this thing before anything else happens.”

Grif managed to find several stilettos as well and strapped them to his person. “These feel like a good secondary.”

“Anything on that table was made for you two. I’ve got my own off to the side already.” Hammer Strike gestured to the larger blade on another table. “Okay, If you’ve got everything you want, let me get your measurements and I’ll be able to get to work on your armor.”

With the measurements finished, the Pegasus and Gryphon grinned at one another.

“So, now that we’ve finished that, and we’re all awake, anybody up for breakfast?” Pensword asked.

“Yeah. Awake. Right,” Grif groaned sarcastically.

Hammer Strike took a moment to process what he had heard. “I’m sorry, it’s time for what?”





The feasting hall was once again filled with familiar faces as the royal family feasted on the delicacies the chefs had prepared. The room was alive with conversation as the queen, her consort, and the other royals all enjoyed the company of loved ones.

“Your Majesty, I couldn’t help but notice that Ambrosia appears to be missing today,” Star Swirl noted idly from his chair.

The queen smiled sweetly. “He’s gone off to perform an inspection for the barracks and check with the cooks to ensure they have what they need to keep them well fed. An army marches and fights on its stomach, after all.”

“Then am I correct in assuming he will also be visiting the crystal berry patches?”

The queen nodded. “He intends to depart after making his report to me. He wants to make sure everything is ready for the Crystal Fair.”

“Crystal Fair?” Grif asked.

Blood Diamond smiled. “My apologies, Grif. I forget that you’re not familiar with our people’s customs. It is a time of renewal in our kingdom and in all of Equestria. Our people channel the positive emotions within them to enhance the natural magics that flow strongly beneath the empire. These powers are then guided and channeled through the crystal heart and distributed throughout the empire and Equestria to strengthen and revitalize magic in both kingdoms. It also serves as a potent talisman capable of driving out or even obliterating most dark forms of magic or entities.”

“Fascinating,” Pensword noted. “Just how potent is this power?”

“How potent is love?” the queen returned. “In its most primal form, love, true love, is one of the strongest forces to exist in magic. It binds, seals, and holds together. It renders tyrants powerless and deposes doubt and despair. It can end a war or start one in the wrong hooves. Fortunately for our people, the crystal heart has never chosen an heir that would do such a thing. I often wonder if its creators made it so it never could. That way, the crystal heart’s power could never be used to destroy them.”

“Are you saying that the crystal heart is alive, then?” Pensword asked.

Blood Diamond shook her head. “Not alive, but I suppose you could claim that it’s sentient in a fashion.”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Star Swirl began, “since we’ve brought up the topic of dark magic and beings, there is a security matter that I believe should be brought to your attention. Although faint, I’ve recently begun detecting traces of that very kind of magic around the palace.”

Blood Diamond looked sharply at the stallion. “You are certain of this, Star Swirl?”

“Your Majesty, I made hunting and detecting that particular kind of magic my life’s work in my younger years. It doesn’t appear to be within the crystal network, but whatever it is most certainly carries a corruptive influence. If it is not tended to in a timely fashion, it could lead to grave consequences for the empire as a whole.”

Blood Diamond’s demeanor changed immediately. With the flick of her horn, the windows in the room were completely filled in with crystal growths thick enough to subdue the chamber in twilight while the doors were swiftly barred and surrounded by her power. She looked over every Pony present in the chambers. “What we discuss here does not leave this room under any circumstances. Am I understood?” she demanded of the nobles. A general murmur of shocked and frightened assent filled the room. She then looked to her guests. “I trust that you three will also keep this revelation to yourselves?”

Pensword nodded. “You have my word, Your Majesty.”

“My lady, information is my specialty. I will take it to the grave.”

“Will do,” Hammer Strike replied as he looked up from the table.

The queen nodded. “These traces you’ve detected, Star Swirl. Is there a way to track them to the source?”

Star Swirl shook his head. “No, my lady. Whoever or whatever is responsible is too subtle thus far. It could be the result of an artifact, rather than an actual caster. However, even if it is an artifact, the fact it managed to breach security and pass through the halls of the castle undiscovered for this long is a grave security concern. And if its influence should grow strong enough before the ceremony is performed at the Crystal Fair, I fear for what the result may be.”

“Can you at the very least detect intention?”

“At its basest form, greed and lust. Those under its influence might manifest similar traits. A desire for more than they already have, and the willingness to employ any deed to obtain it. It could be something as minor as fighting and petty theft, or … at its worst, murder. If it’s the result of an artifact, then it can either lead to general chaos or it could sway those Ponies to be under the will of the owner. Or worse still, a slave to the artifact itself. If it’s a Unicorn harboring these emotions, then it can be even more dangerous. Artifacts must act through others to do their work for them, and they don’t always understand the behavior of sapient beings. A properly trained magic caster, however, won’t make those mistakes.”

“Then what would you suggest, Star Swirl? If this threat is as great as you say, then I am open to ideas.”

“With your permission, Your Majesty, and that of Lord Hammer Strike, I would like to ask for the assistance of Commander Pensword in my hunt. As all of Equis knows, he is part Thestral, and that particular tribe has a unique affinity for sensing and combating the dark.”

“What say you, Lord Hammer Strike, Commander Pensword? Will you aid us in ferreting out this threat?”

Hammer Strike tapped his chin in thought. “We’ve dealt with certain forms of manipulation before, though nothing so extensive as a practitioner of the dark arts. It seems a reasonable request. However, I would like to make one further suggestion to add to your preparations.”

“And that is?”

“Allow your foals to get to know us better. If a threat should come for the empire, we would be the most well equipped to handle any attacks that might come from without or within. And when dealing with any form of attack, it’s a safe bet that the royal family will be a prime target. Also, it’s something our invisible threat won’t find suspicious, since they’ve already expressed a desire to know us better.”

Pensword blinked in surprise for a moment before shaking his head and nodding. “Lord Hammer Strike’s advice is sound, Your Majesty. I would be honored to assist in both tasks, assuming you accept my lord’s suggestion.”

“Normally, I would prefer to delegate my children’s safety to their guards. But if you truly are willing to act in their stead should worse come to worst, I can think of no safer hooves or talons for them to be guarded by. Given your clearance levels in the Equestrian government, I take it you are already familiar with certain emergency protocols.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “We are.”

“And if the unthinkable should happen?”

“I will keep them safe, Your Majesty,” Pensword said grimly. “I won’t tolerate innocent blood being spilt.”

“Then I expect you three to meet me in my chambers at noon. I’ll make the other necessary arrangements. And Star Swirl, you are free to begin your hunt with Commander Pensword when the meal is finished.” She raised a staying wing. “However, I expect your inquiries to be kept discreet.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Star Swirl agreed.

Blood Diamond nodded, and with another flick of her horn, the room returned to its original state. “Then finish your meals, and let’s get to work.”





Subtlety would only draw further attention to the Gryphon as he strode through the halls, and he knew only too well that their enemy would want to keep an eye on him and the others after the scene that had taken place in the royal hall for breakfast. So, Grif relied on the old standby. He strode calmly and purposefully toward the sorcerer’s door and knocked as loudly as he could. “Hello?” he called.

There was no response.

“Hey! Are you in there?” Grif Banged hard on the door.

The door flung open angrily as a stormy Star Swirl glared, his horn ablaze. “Do you mind? I’m trying to—oh, it’s you. Did Hammer Strike send for me?”

“Not really. I need you to look at something for me.”

“I assume this has to do with preparations for that hunt you mentioned,” Star Swirl said as he squinted at the Gryphon. Finally, he sighed and waved his hoof dismissively before turning. “Oh, very well. Come in.”

“Admittedly, not really. More something I need you to look at,” Grif said as he entered.

“A moment, Grif.” The door closed, and Star Swirl cast the same spell he had the last time the trio visited with him. When the spell was properly in place, his horn glowed again as a second spell was layered over the first. “There. We should be able to speak more freely now. I’ve added some extra warding against scrying and some of the darker techniques one might use to gain information. I apologize for my behavior earlier, but I don’t wish to give our enemy any indication of our collusion.”

“That's fair.” Grif shrugged before he reached to the bandages around his arm. “I need you to look at this.” The bandages unravelled, exposing the glossy black crystal that had overtaken the feathers and scaling.

Star Swirl recoiled with a hiss. “Merciful Faust,” he swore. “What in Sleipnir’s name did you do to yourself?”

“I held back our adversary to let others get away,” Grif said grimly. He gazed into the crystal as the memories played over again and he recounted the tale.

“Well, this may explain some of the dark magic traces I’ve been sensing around the castle,” he mused. “I’m not surprised that Hammer Strike was able to identify the core aspects of the power that’s affecting you. Given the fact that you are in full control of your faculties, that implies either the focus of the corruption was meant to be used as a buffer to cut you off from using magic or perhaps that the power of this Sombra wasn’t yet strong enough to subvert your will. Either way, you are exceptionally lucky to be alive. Lesser beasts would have been utterly consumed by now.”

“Is there anything I should be worried about?” Grif asked

“Loss of self control, a slow descent into madness, a potential connection to your foe that could lead to total compromise of any plans you may have crafted, mutation into a mindless killing machine, just to name a few,” Star Swirl noted gravely. “I once knew a Pony who could treat this in a heartbeat, but he and his arts are all but lost in time. And his pupil….” Pain crossed the sorcerer’s face. “His pupil is also lost.”

“I … see. So there’s nothing you can do?”

“I’ve performed some research into various types of dark magic and its applications, if only to learn how to counter them. A proper analysis of the nature of the magic involved may yield some helpful clues. It will take me some time to determine, however. Probing a spell is delicate work when it comes to these arts.” He strode over to a table where a number of pulsing crystals sat in test tubes and stands. “Come. Lay your arm on this table. It’s wood, so you shouldn’t have to worry about the corruption having contact with the crystal palace’s network.”

Grif laid his arm gingerly where indicated while Star Swirl moved the objects out of the Gryphon’s way.

“As I said before, this will take some time. Is there anything I might be able to provide to you while you wait?”

“You have any books on Gryphon flight mechanics?”

“The military office, their airships, or their natural mode of flight?”

“Natural, please,” Grif said.

“Good. I haven’t got the others. And if I had, I most certainly wouldn’t have told you I have them regardless.” The stallion levitated a book to the Gryphon. “I wouldn’t recommend experimenting anywhere that you can be observed, however. One wandering pair of eyes at the wrong time could ruin everything.”

“I’m well aware,” Grif replied as he flipped open the book and began to analyze its pages.

As the Unicorn had warned, the procedure was a slow one. Tiny probing tendrils of white magic flowed from his horn to tap and push at various points along the Gryphon’s arm. His frown deepened as the probing continued, and the occasional spark of white energy would course through the crystals before it was smothered. Finally, the Unicorn’s probes switched from the crystal itself to the upper reaches of Grif’s arm. While the magic didn’t hurt, there was a certain amount of discomfort that the Gryphon did not like. That discomfort grew until the tendrils pulled back suddenly as if they had been stung.

Star Swirl nodded slowly as the light in his horn died. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. This is both comforting and troubling,” he said as he stroked his beard.

“How so?”

“The reason that you are not influenced by the corruption has to do with a unique field that you have surrounding your body. It is not of magic, but it does have a tenuous connection to it. It is possible that you may already know this, given the reaction this field also had to my probings over your normal body. What is troubling lies in the nature of the crystals that have infected you, however. Their latticework is strikingly similar to that of the Crystal Empire itself, structures that are grown at the behest of the queen through her connection to the crystal heart. To achieve this level of intricacy, Sombra would have to be able to not only incorporate his dark magic into the crystal but have a direct connection to the kingdom’s crystal network itself. So long as a direct heir remains, that connection cannot be properly solidified. It would be overruled, or at the very least challenged, by said heir when they came into their own.”

Grif’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Tell me, Star Swirl, what are your feelings about Ambrosia?”

“A self-entitled colt who takes himself far too seriously. That being said, there are few who have a closer connection to the queen, save perhaps for her children and her consort. She trusts him to care for the family and do what needs to be done for their sake and the sake of the kingdom’s future.”

“So what you're saying is he is the fourth in line for the throne currently?”

“The ascension is a bit trickier than that. It’s sort of a coin toss depending on who the crystal heart chooses as its next master or mistress. The primary decision is generally kept to the main line. But in the event that the primary bloodline is either deceased or some other circumstances render them unsuitable, the heart can choose another to stand in their place. Control the heart and you control the kingdom, but only if the heart allows you to. A truly fascinating piece of magical craftsmanship. It carries a piece of magic from every member of the royal family inside of it. When the current ruler either dies or steps down, the heart sorts through its options to choose who it will designate its next master.”

“He seems to not like his position in life.”

“There are many who feel that way in the world. And there will yet be many more.” Star Swirl sighed. “If you’re asking whether I might be able to determine if the magical wavelength in these protrusions is identical with Ambrosia, I’m afraid I can’t.” Star Swirl shook his head. “Until he draws deeply enough on dark magic to form a proper pact, his magical wavelength would remain pure enough to purge any lingering effects, assuming he paces himself properly. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to hope we can react quickly,” Grif commented as he started to wrap his arm.

Star Swirl nodded. “Indeed. If your guess is right, then Pensword will need to watch himself. By asking for his support, I hoped to bolster your reputations and solidify the impression that you are who you claim to be. I’m afraid that I may also have painted a target on his back as a result.”

“Is there anything I need to know about Grif Grafson?”

“He specializes in dual-bladed combat. However, he is not afraid to use his body as a weapon. The loyalty that he shows to his master is a matter of religious obligation and intense loyalty. He would kill and die for his lord if the need arose, and he would think nothing of either one if it would ensure Hammer Strike’s safety and success. Intelligence indicates that he hails from the Northern Isles, and he is governed by his own conscience, rather than any power or authority. According to the queen, he has no respect for the royal crown unless it is earned. He has been known to care little for what other nobility or ranks think, speaking openly, even flippantly in some instances. One of his pet names for the princesses is a particular source of consternation for Celestia and a delight to her younger sister. He calls her, and I quote, ‘Sunbutt.’”

Grif chuckled loudly. “Sounds like he knows what he’s worth, at least.”

“He singlehandedly dispatched dozens of generals and high ranking military officers in the Gryphonian army from behind enemy lines. Rumors claim that he took their feathers to stuff a pillow that he personally had presented to Pensword. There are those who claim his disregard of rank stems from personal reasons, but I can neither confirm nor deny that information.”

“I see.” Grif nodded. “Thanks for the information.”

“Use it well, Grif. I suspect it will be more important to you than you think.” He picked up a book in his magic and tossed it to the Gryphon. “Take this. It’s a book I published based on the knowledge I gained from examining Gryphon culture. It should help you to better understand Grif’s background, at least from the perspective of the empire.”

“Thank you,” Grif said, taking the book. “I appreciate the help.”

“We’re to be allies in this, Grif. If you require more from me, I will offer what I can to the best of my ability.” He nodded. “I’ll also see about saving what volumes I can that could prove beneficial to us in the event that the worst should come to pass.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Grif nodded as he turned to leave. “Keep your eyes open, Star Swirl. Let’s hope we can get through this all in one piece.”

As the door shut behind the Gryphon, Star Swirl couldn’t help but chuckle wryly and shake his head. “I have little doubt you will, Grif.” He sighed and looked regretfully at a small caricature of a mare’s head carved in blue crystal. “Time will tell. But I fear it will exact a terrible price in exchange.”





The clash of wooden swords rang through the air as a tiny blue colt lunged and jabbed while his much larger winged opponent parried and stumbled backward at the sudden assault.

“I have you now, villain! Take this!” the colt cried exuberantly as the sword flew toward the Pegasus.

Rather than allow the sword to strike true, Pensword flapped his wings to leap off the ground and parry once more, sending the colt’s wooden sword toward the ground. Pensword then dropped to the floor and barrelled toward the colt. “It appears the tables have turned, young adventurer.” He curled his lip into a grim smile. “Yield.”

“Sneak attack!” A great fluffy pillow smacked into Pensword’s face, causing him to stumble back as two blurs slammed into him and sent him tumbling toward the floor. In a matter of moments, three bodies had him pinned, and the wooden sword hovered over Pensword’s head.

Pensword laughed. “All right. All right. I’m clearly outmatched. All hail the conquering heroes, Prince Bellacosa and Princesses Cadance and Alto!”

Bellacosa pouted. “I told you to call me Cosy.”

“Is that the boon you wish to ask of me for your victory then, young warrior?” Pensword teased.

Cosey shook his head adamantly. “You’re not getting off that easily. Tell us about Equestria. What’s it like?”

Pensword smiled. “On the surface? It’s beautiful. A land covered with Ponies of all manner of tribes and backgrounds, each working to live and support the princesses they love so much.” Then he sighed. “But underneath that, it’s not so perfect. For every good Pony out there, you can usually find another bad one somewhere trying to make trouble for the rest.”

Cadance frowned. “How come?”

Pensword slowly extricated himself from beneath the siblings and sat properly on his rump to give his piece. “Some Ponies want things that they don’t have. And they’re not always willing to wait and work hard to earn them. So, instead, they try other ways to get what they want. Some steal. Some lie. And worst of all, … some kill.”

“Kill? But why?”

Pensword smiled sadly and brushed Cadance gently along the cheek with a hoof. “The Crystal Empire is embodied and defined by love, Princess. I would dare to say that your society is one of the most pristine and perfect I have ever beheld because of that fact. You share a unity that many of us in Equestria have to fight to obtain and maintain every day. The thing it often comes down to is a twist of emotion. Like a weed, if you suffer the seeds of greed or anger or hate to remain and grow, they feed on the good ground and choke out whatever else might be growing there instead. Even in your kingdom, a Pony can be susceptible to such corruption if one finds the proper way and fosters it.

“Allow me to repeat a lesson I once learned about magic, taught to me by Princess Celestia herself. Most magic that is performed by Ponies draws power from positive emotion and from the magic of the world around us. This power can do incredible things. It can heal wounds, lift heavy objects, transport mares and colts. But if one draws on the opposite, on anger, sorrow, hatred, rage, then that magic becomes something other than harmony. It becomes darkness. And once darkness is allowed to take root, it can be difficult to expunge fully. One can do great things with that power, but those great things are often terrible. Such is the nature of those emotions, and thus of the magic they create. It’s why your mother is so important to the empire, and why one of you three will be someday, too. You will embody the pure force that can dispel darkness, just as she does.” He smiled at all three of them. “You will spread love, light, and decency. And that is both a great honor and a terrible burden. But it is one that I think the three of you will be able to bear one day, if you apply yourselves, if you really try to make a difference for the ones you love.”

The Pegasus tapped each foal on their chests. “And it all starts in there.”

“Is that what Thestrals do when they talk with the dead?” Cosy asked.

Pensword smiled sadly. “We try. Love, unfortunately, doesn’t always work alone. It needs the support of those who would protect it as well as offer it. But yes, you could say that the acts of bringing the dead peace are a way of giving love to those who cannot seek it out for themselves.” He chuckled. “Ah, but enough about such subjects. I know of two individuals who are waiting to see you. And now that you’ve bested me in combat, it’s only proper that the victors earn their prize.” He rose to his hooves. “Come. Put away your swords and tidy up. Then we’re going on a field trip.”

The journey to the forges was uneventful. Crystal guards flanked the foals and Pensword as they traveled through the halls, passing servants and other guards until the ring of crystal once again vibrated through their ears.

“Brace yourselves, children.” Pensword smiled at the foals. “It’s going to get very hot, but I think you won’t be disappointed by the treasure we are about to discover within these walls.”

Sparks flew as the Lord of the Everfree plied his craft. To the side, a familiar black Gryphon with a green crest and breast worked at the whetstone to sharpen his throwing knives.

“Grif, Milord, I come bearing guests,” Pensword announced.

Hammer Strike glanced up from his current project before giving a small smile. “Ah, you’ve brought over Cadance, Alto, and Bellacosa.”

The three foals bowed to the Pony lord as decorum demanded. Alto eyed the glowing steel with wide eyes while Cadance and Cosy gaped at the rest of the forge and its many tools and weapons.

“Mother never let us come here before,” Cadance said.

“I’m not surprised,” Pensword replied. “A forge can be a dangerous place for foals without proper supervision. Fortunately for you, you won’t find anywhere safer in all of Equis than with Hammer Strike, Grif, and myself.”

“Unless it’s a battlefield,” Grif commented.

Pensword rolled his eyes helplessly. “Grif.”

“What’s it like? Having to fight someone for real, I mean?” Cosy asked.

“It depends on what you’re fighting over,” Pensword said. “Some fights are simple, like sparring. You fight until there’s a clear victor and then stop. Others, … others are less clear to describe.”

“Those ‘others’ are not pretty or glorious,” Grif explained. “You spend most of the time scared for your life,” he said as he examined one of the blades and tested its edge. “Never let someone tell you you shouldn’t be scared. Fear is healthy,” Grif explained.

“So you’re saying it’s good to be scared?” Cosy asked.

“It’s normal to be,” Pensword corrected. “But that doesn’t mean you should be all the time. Nor does it mean that you should let it keep you from acting. There is a saying that my friend once shared with me many years ago. Fear is the mind killer. It is healthy, yes, but uncontrolled, it can paralyze you, scatter your ability to think clearly, and that is not good when you are in a fight. A person must learn to experience fear without giving in to it. Only then will they have the chance of finding success.”

“Is that why Ponies wear armor?” Alto asked. “So they don’t have to feel so scared?”

Grif shrugged. “Yes and no. No matter what happens, you're always going to be scared going to battle. The armor helps you stay safe, and so it makes it easier.”

“So, … making armor is like an act of love for the soldiers who wear it?” Alto asked.

“In a way,” Grif laughed.

“It’s a comfort, especially when made by a trusted smith. It gives them the strength to face their fear head-on, knowing they’ll have something to protect them,” Hammer Strike spoke up.

“Then you must be one of the most caring Ponies in Equestria,” Alto said to the stallion. “You helped to make a lot of the armor that was used in the war. And everypony keeps talking about how they want something forged by you.”

Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle. “Perhaps. Though in the end, I just like ensuring everyone around me is safe.”

“No wonder Mother wanted us to know all of you better.” Cosy grinned. “You’re amazing!”

Pensword chuckled. “No, Cosy, we’re normal people, just like you. That’s the secret, really. The most amazing things come from the simplest of creatures. You don’t need powerful magic or super strength to make a difference in someone’s life. You just need to keep being you and do your best to help.”

“So, … can we help you out, then, Mister Grif?” Cosy asked.

“You two can,” Grif told Cadance and Cosy. “But you just watch,” he told Alto. “Ok?”

Alto pouted, but nodded as the other two approached the table and Grif showed them how to do the work.





The old sorcerer was many things: a scholar, a magician, a Pony of no small reputation in the empire. He was also one who knew better than to allow a hot head to prevail in a rapidly approaching conflict. And he knew it was best to hedge his bets when preparing for those inevitable clashes. Thus, he found himself trotting toward the royal forges, where the ring of crystal hammer blows sang in vibration with the steel and other materials that were doubtless being drawn upon for the grim task that lay ahead.

The blast of heat wafted over Star Swirl’s beard and jangled the bells on his cloak and hat as he entered the chamber to behold the subject of his visit. The Earth Pony was hard at work, but despite the bags under his eyes, his grip was steady, his blows sure.

“Have you been working here this whole time?” the sorcerer asked.

“I did take a small break for breakfast,” Hammer Strike replied as he kept his attention on his work. “Has something come up?”

“Not as of yet. More that I wanted the chance to meet with you alone.” He peered intently at the Pony. “Do you often do things like this? From what Critical Flaw has told me, you’ve been here at the forge for nearly the last twenty-four hours.”

“It’s already been twenty-four hours?” Hammer Strike paused his work briefly and frowned. “I think I’m on schedule still,” he muttered thoughtfully.

“Just how long do you plan to keep pushing yourself?” Star Swirl asked. “Have you even stopped to rehydrate?”

“Occasionally, yeah.” Hammer Strike finally placed his hammer down and looked at Star Swirl. “Until I have finished, I’ll keep at this. Even if it may be a detriment to myself.”

“Then before you continue, there is one thing more I would like to confirm, if I may.”

Hammer Strike simply raised a brow questioningly.

“You have a field that surrounds you, one that isn’t related to magic, don’t you?”

Hammer Strike stared at him for a few seconds as his brows furrowed briefly. “Though I find myself surprised to hear of it being mentioned, I will at least confirm that I do. Though it makes me wonder how you know about it.”

“A Pony I once knew a long time ago had a similar field. It carried a vast and dangerous power, one that he would not teach to any, save for one. We … did not part on the best of terms. It is … surprising to see it again after all of this time. I learned of its existence when Grif came to my quarters to see what I could do to aid him with a certain … problem that I believe you are familiar with.”

“The crystals of corruption.” Hammer Strike sighed as he grabbed his next piece of work.

“Indeed. I … also wished to let you know that I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you and your friends make it through this disaster. If there is any way I might be able to help enhance your work, please, don’t hesitate to call on me. It’s been some time since I enchanted armaments, but I still know enough to help combat those darker influences I mentioned earlier.”

“Thank you for the offer. Sadly, I don’t have anything I can offer for enchanting, as I’m… not quite finished just yet. Once I have actual pieces complete, I’ll try to get in contact with you.” Hammer Strike frowned as he looked over the plate on the anvil in front of him.

Star Swirl passed a crystal embedded in a pendant to the Earth Pony. “Use this to call me. It’s attuned to a twin that I keep on my person. Their unique frequency ensures that only the two of us will be able to speak with one another between them. Just tap the crystal and speak. I will hear you.”

“Got it.” Hammer Strike placed the pendant into his coat. “Hopefully it won’t be too long from now.”

Star Swirl nodded. “I’ll await your call. Until next we meet, Hammer Strike. Know that I wish you well.”

“Until then.”