//------------------------------//
// 25 - Hearth's Warming 
// Story: An Extended Holiday 
// by Commander_Pensword 
//------------------------------//

Extended Holiday
Chapter 25: Hearth’s Warming




The morning was still, calm and beautiful. A scudding cloud of gray blanketed the sky to mute the harsh light of the sun, allowing Pony, Changeling, and human alike to sleep deeply in their beds as they wallowed in the warmth that held them peacefully moored in that comforting blackness. Some dreamt. Others luxuriated. And others still rose squealing in delight as they raced through their homes. These were namely foals.

Taze was not a foal.

He also was not going to be allowed to sleep as a white fluffy projectile slammed into his face with the force of a dodge ball at close range. Fortunately, this was no dodgeball. Unfortunately, it still did the trick to force Taze into wakefulness.

“Hell, what was that about?” Taze groaned.

Shawn shrugged as Taze tore the pillow off his face. “I wasn’t about to get punched again.”

Taze looked at him for a few minutes as the adrenaline worked to unclog the gutters of his mind and fire off the synapses. “I … suppose that's fair,” he finally groaned.

“I thought so myself,” Shawn agreed.

“It’s going to be a very long day, isn’t it?” he groaned.

“Depends on your perspective. It is Hearth’s Warming Eve, after all.”

“Maybe.” Taze shrugged. “Just seems like it’s going to be a late night.”

“It’s probably going to be a long couple of days.” Shawn gave a faint grin and a shrug.

“Fair. Guess we should greet the day,” Taze said as he rose and started to stretch.

“Take your time. They know you’re not one for mornings, and we’ve got a little time to spare,” Shawn replied, chuckling.

“Yeah, but the sooner we get started, the sooner I get coffee,” Taze returned with a chuckle of his own.

“You and your bean juice.”

“Best part of waking up.” Taze chuckled and headed for the door.

The commons had become completely decked to the nines quite literally overnight. Garlands and wreaths decked the walls while streamers and other holiday decorations hung from the ceiling. Centerpieces had been laid on each of the tables with small metal oil lamps shaped like hearts that blazed with flame to symbolize the fires of friendship. A cheerful Ruby Pinch grinned at the friends as they descended the stairs. “Good morning!” she greeted.

“Bout time you all got down here,” Berry Punch grumbled. “Now I can finally get my kitchen back.”

Shawn raised a questioning brow. “Get it back?”

“Someone wanted to make you boys a surprise. Didn’t realize you’d sleep in as long as you did. I thought you were supposed to be some sort of night owl or something,” she said as she looked reproachfully at Shawn.

Shawn shrugged. “I had other things on my mind.”

“What’s this about reclaiming a kitchen?” Pensword asked as he glided down the stairs to join his friends. Two more Ponies followed behind, one more cautiously than the other as they descended the stairs.

“Ask the mare yourself,” Berry said as she groused her way to the kitchen’s door and shouted. “Hey, you, get out here!”

The lingering scent of oven-baked fruit and holiday spice wafted from the kitchen door and drifted cartoon-like toward the friends’ noses in a white vapor.

“That smells incredible,” Taze commented.

The doors opened, and Moonshade stepped out bearing a large tray on her back. A plump shape was pinned to the wooden board as she strode toward an open table and laid the tray down with a flourish.

“What's that?” Taze asked.

“Vampire fruit bat,” Moonsahde said proudly as she checked it over one last time.

Pensword gaped at the dish. “I thought you said they were a delicacy. Doesn’t that make them hard to find?”

“Fortunately, there are a few colonies within the forest. I was able to catch a few on the outskirts of town.”

“Why do you have meat here?” the taller of the two Ponies asked. Her voice had deepend slightly, but Me-Me was certainly still there, and surprisingly enough, curious.

Moonshade shrugged. “Thestrals eat meat.”

“Strange. I have heard of some Changeling hives doing so, but those feed primarily on wrath to sustain themselves. The spicier the relationship, the better. It leads to … I believe you call it blood thirst? Or is it blood lust?”

“Lust,” Pensword said. “Or maybe both.” He shrugged. “Well, we don’t want to be rude after all the time Moonshade put into making this for us.” He smiled and grabbed one of the plates Ruby Pinch was laying on the table. “You cooked the meal, Moonshade. It seems only fair that you should get the first serving.”

The Thestral nodded happily as she cut herself a piece of the meat and took a satisfied bite, then let out a pleasured groan.

“That good?” Pensword asked.

She nodded eagerly. “Try it and see.”

The group each were able to sample a slice, and eyes widened in surprise. The meat was moist and tender, and the kiss of wild berries and sugar seemed to permeate it, as if it had been marinated before it was cooked.

“This is … I have no words,” Pensword said as his eyes watered in admiration. Or perhaps it was merely the impulse of his Equestrian form. Regardless, his praise did not go unnoticed as he consumed the remainder of his portion.

“It is a curious dish,” Shawn agreed. “Very flavorful.”

“Delicious,” Taze said between bites.

“It is … not pancakes, but … good,” Mutatio agreed.

“It was made with love,” Me-Me noted through a large mouthful.

Moonshade froze up for a brief moment. “Uh, yes, you know what they say. Love what you do?”

Shawn raised a quizzical brow but said nothing more on the matter.

Pensword smiled. “We used to put love into our cooking all the time back home. It always seems to make a meal taste better.”

“Anyway,” Taze said, taking a hit of coffee, “what's the plan?”

“Based off what I wrote down, we’ll be headed out to a Hearth’s Warming play that we’ve been invited to, followed by some work at the fort,” Shawn explained as he pulled out a list.

“What type of work?” Pensword asked curiously.

“Minor stuff, mostly paperwork.”

“Any way we can help?” Pensword asked.

“Oh, there’s stuff for you both, too. After all, you’re helping train the units.”

“Great. Paperwork.” Taze rolled his eyes.

“We could always threaten to have one of the recruits do it as punishment if they don’t behave,” Pensword teased.

“If only,” Shawn sighed. “But, it’s mostly for our eyes.”

“Yeah, state secrets probably aren’t the best thing to let recruits learn about, I suppose.” Pensword returned the sigh with one of his own. “Maybe we should ask Twilight if she could design a filing system to help us out. That is her area of expertise, after all.”

“I feel like we may not be allowed to see our own paperwork for months if we did.” Taze chuckled.

“No paperwork for months. Do you think you could live with that, Shawn?” Pensword asked playfully.

Shawn’s lips curved in a wry smile. “Nice thought, but I think I’ll stick to doing it myself.”





The town was abuzz with excitement at the prospect of the next Hearth’s Warming play. This wasn’t the upscale production that Canterlot could put on every year, but with Rarity’s help and her unique flair for the dramatic in both fashion and life, the show would most certainly go on. And more importantly, it and the design for the stage and sets would look absolutely fabulous.

While the fashionista worked to levitate some of the banners, and Applejack tested the ropes to test the curtains, Twilight peered over the construction plan to coordinate with the rest of her friends. Rainbow Dash was busy arranging clouds with the weather team while Fluttershy coordinated with some of her animal friends to get realistic sets and rehearse roles to fill on stage. Pinkie Pie was busy jumping around excitedly and passing out holiday treats to keep Ponies warm while they watched or waited for the chance to get in for the play.

The air was cool and crisp as the friends arrived with Moonshade to look over the work that had been done so far. An older mare with a light tan coat and a wavy gray mane smiled in greeting as the party arrived.

“Isn’t it just wonderful? Rarity and her friends are doing such a good job, and all the foals at the school helped with painting the backdrops,” the mare gushed.

“Mayor Mare,” Shawn greeted, then looked over the stage and ran a hand over the boards. “Sturdy construction,” he noted.

“The Apples are good with woodwork. And as you can see, everypony is working to lend a hoof toward the festivities.”

“This should definitely help cheer up any troops we have who are homesick,” Pensword said with a smile as he looked over the chairs being set up by various townsfolk. “It reminds me of the pageants we used to have at home when I was little.”

“It’s definitely a start,” Taze agreed.

“So, who’s going to be playing the roles this year?” Shawn asked.

“The foals from the school. Young Sweetie Belle is playing the role of Princess Platinum. And Dinkie is playing Clover the Clever. Miss Twist is going to play Chancellor Puddinghead with young Pip as Smart Cookie. And we have young Rumble and Featherweight to play Commander Hurricane and Private Pansy. And naturally, the rest of the school will be playing background characters while the adults help to manage the scenery and effects.”

A sudden chill wind gusted through the clearing, followed by a flurry of snowflakes that left an ever-shifting sheet swirling over the cobblestones.

“Sorry!” a gruff-looking Pegasus called from overhead. “One of the clouds got loose!”

“It’s fine, just keep doing what you're doing,” Taze called.

“You really do love cold weather, don’t you, Taze?” Pensword asked.

“I mean, if you can call this cold.” Taze shrugged. “This may be mildly not warm.”

“So, Mayor Mare, how long do we have until the production starts?” Pensword asked.

“We have about another hour before things begin. If you’d like, you can help with the final touches or wait for the show to start. We’ve already got your seats reserved up front as representatives of the crown.”

“I suppose, since we have time, I don’t mind offering some help.” Shawn shrugged.

“Point us where you need us,” Pensword agreed. “It’s always nice to be able to help with community events.”

“Particularly when those events include snowballs and mayhem?” Mayor Mare asked with a smile and a playfully raised brow.

“Oh, did you plan a snowball fight?” Taze smirked at her.

“Not tonight. Though I think you’ve inspired more than a few of the foals to be more creative when they do have their little mock battles.”

“Then shall we get to work?” Pensword asked.

Shawn had already stepped up onto the stage to review the work on the craftsmanship and to assist a thoroughly flustered Rarity by the time the question was asked. Pensword sighed. “And he’s gone.” He flapped his wings. “Well, I guess I’d better see how I can help the weather team.”

“Onwards and upwards, then,” Taze smirked.

The rest of the setup went smoothly and well. And not only did it allow for the touches to be built up properly and for a certain party pony to be reined in on her confetti, but it also granted the friends the chance to spend time with the six mares who had at least in part aided them on their adventures and vice versa. At last, with the glow of a job well done and the smiles of all the folk at Ponyville filing in with the troops from the temporary base, it was time for the production to begin. Spotlights shone as horns ignited, and the magic of the theater reached out to take hold with the starting oration from two young fillies, one wearing a tiara and the other a pearl necklace.





The air rang with the cheers and radiant applause of the town. Or rather, what passed for applause here, namely a lot of clopping hooves together or on the ground. Then came the familiar song as young and old, student and teacher, horse and donkey and mule, all came together in harmony to celebrate the spirit of unity and togetherness that, much like Christmas, seemed to flourish strongest once a year at this special season. Pensword grinned as he raised his voice high to join in the song. Taze was quieter than his friend, and less enthused. And Shawn was absolutely silent as he closed his eyes and listened to the music.

With the closing of the song and the casting of the flame that represented the spirit of harmony and friendship, the crowds at last began to disperse. Parents and guardians sought out their children, and techs and other workers were thanked by Mayor Mare for their hard work as the takedown began on the stage, set, and lighting.

“Well then,” Taze said. “Hey, Pinkie, I need to borrow the bakery. Have a few things I need to make for tomorrow.”

Pinkie gasped audibly. “Recipes from another world? I’m in!” she shrieked audibly, then grabbed the human by the arm and yanked him into a segway that had them rapidly speeding toward said bakery. To the rest of the world, it seemed as if the two had simply disappeared, leaving behind only the smell of cotton candy and fudge.

“Does she … always do that?” Pensword asked.

“Leaning towards … probably,” Shawn shrugged.

“Pinkie Pie is what you might call … unpredictable,” Twilight said. “Except where her Pinkie Sense is concerned.” She winced. “You really don’t want to know what I went through to try to figure that out.”

“I’m sure it was, at the very least, quite the experience.”

“If you can call going through a literal meltdown an experience,” Rainbow Dash said with a grin. “She turned white and her whole mane and tail lit on fire. It was awesome!”

“Rainbow….” Twilight blushed.

“Well, at least you’re all right now, right?” Pensword offered consolingly.

Twilight sighed, then perked up suddenly. “That’s right! Speaking of writing, I need to run some errands to restock my supplies of quills, ink, and parchment at the library.”

“Now, Twilight?” Spike asked. “But it’s Hearth’s Warming Eve!”

Pensword shrugged. “I can go with her if you don’t want to, Spike. I have a relatively free evening tonight.”

“You mean it?” Spike asked.

“That’s assuming the number one assistant and his big sister are all right with it.”

“I … suppose I won’t mind. If it’s not inconvenient for you, Pensword,” Twilight added quickly.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it was.”

Twilight nodded. “All right, then. I suppose that will work.”

Spike beamed. “Yes!”

All the adults looked at the young dragon with quizzical glances.

Spike cleared his throat awkwardly and blushed. “Uh, I mean, I … guess I’ll head back toward the library now. Get ready for the big day tomorrow. Lots of presents to finish!” He waved hastily and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.

“And I’ll see you back at the Punch Bowl, Shawn,” Pensword said.

Shawn simply gave a wave in response before going on his way.





The sun had long since set, and a beautiful silver crescent moon arose in its place to bathe the world in its unearthly splendor made all the more beautiful by the pristine white snow that refracted its rays to make the night bright. The ground and the window panes came alive with stars that mirrored the skies, and a deep stillness laid over the world like a warm blanket as the foals took to their beds and adults made their last preparations for the morning to come.

The common room was anything but dead, however, as the Ponies who had come to stay in the inn gathered to enjoy one another’s company in preparation for the big day with their families the following day. The new staff who had been assigned to serve Hammer Strike came from a variety of backgrounds ranging from all three of the main tribes. Cheerful logs burned a bright cherry red as Unicorns each cast a small flaming heart to add to the strength of the fire and hover over the logs. Pegasi took bits and pieces of cloud to fashion and shift as they willed in the telling of ancient tales from the long ago, a perfect accompaniment on a cold evening gathered around a warm fire. Earth Ponies provided their very best cuisine and dishes in a sort of potluck that was open to anypony that wished to partake. Then they caroused and gambled with one another to add their own raucous cheer, with Berry leading them on in a rare display of open mirth and joviality that could have been bolstered by a certain amount of drink.

…

Okay, it was a lot of drink.

In a snug little corner of the room, Pensword sat with Moonshade and a few of the other Thestrals who were off duty from the base to enjoy the evening. The group remained calm and reserved as they sat and watched the festivities unroll.

“So, I’m curious, if all the other tribes have these great stories, what about you?” Pensword asked of the group. “How do Thestrals tell their stories?”

“Well back when we lived in tribes, we had a single person in each who held the tales of the past,” Moonshade said. “They’d use them to give wisdom when they thought Thestrals needed it. But with us as spread out as we are these days, a lot of the old ways have been lost.”

“But haven’t you at least been able to keep the stories? I mean, they’re precious, aren’t they?” Pensword asked.

“Things went badly when princess Luna fell. We ended up losing touch with a lot of our old customs when we were spread out.

“So, that’s a no?”

“They are precious, but no, we weren’t able to keep much.”

Pensword sighed. “It’s sad, really. Something similar happened in the land Matthew hails from. It’s a pity that spirit of Hearth’s Warming can’t be applied all year round. It might have changed a few things if it did.”

The Thestrals shrugged. “It’s honestly more for Ponies.”

“... Aren’t you Ponies, too?”

“Ponies have never treated us as such, so we’ve never considered ourselves such.”

Pensword frowned, then sighed. “I guess some things are universal after all. I just wish this wasn’t one of them.” Then he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m bringing down the mood with these questions. How about we talk about some of the things you all like to do around this season instead?”

“Well, for the most part, we use this time to try and hunt rare game that may be harder to find.”

“Like vampire fruit bats?”

“Yes, as well as other things.”

“Mind if I ask what? I’ve heard about a few things from Moonshade, but I still don’t know a lot about the kinds of creatures that live in the wilds of Equestria.”

“Well, for starters, we have regular fruit bats to go with the vampire kind. There are also wild boar and deer, even an elk occasionally. More daring hunters may attempt to find a bear. For the most part, game is very mundane, but occasionally you may find some specialties. Manticore is especially prized if you can take one down.”

“If the way you cook it is anything like what you do with vampire fruit bat, it must be delicious.”

“I appreciate the confidence, but it takes a bit more than that. We have special treatments to get the poison out, you see…” And so Moonshade began to explain the complicated process of purifying manticore meat.

Taze sat in the corner and smiled as he watched the festivities and listened to the stories, content to allow the limelight of the storyteller fall on some others for a change. The skill with which the Pegasi managed to work over the cloud intrigued him, and he couldn’t help but ponder if Gryphons might not be able to replicate the skill. One never knew when such a thing might come in handy. Finally, his thirst got the better of him, and he ventured over to the bar.

“How goes your night, Berry?” Taze asked as the mare slid a drinking a glass of heated raspberry juice his way.

Berry grinned at the human. Her whole body seemed to have taken on an almost liquid quality in its movements as the tension that normally weighed the mare down was washed away by the drinks she’d consumed. “Always love the holidays. Big money, big celebrations, and lots and lots of drinks.”

He laughed. “Any idea where Shawn got to?”

“You know him. He always likes to leave quietly.” She reached under the counter and produced a piece of parchment. “Left a little something for the two of you in case you asked where he went.”

Taze took the parchment and read it over.

I have some last minute projects that I’m working on. If you need me for anything important, I’m either at the forge or upstairs in the room.

“Well that's fitting,” Taze laughed, shaking his head. “Not one for a lot of words.”

“Less people talk, harder it is to complicate things. S’why Big Mac likes to keep it to yups and nopes.”

“That is a very good methodology.” Taze nodded. “Just wish he’d said why he wandered off.”

Berry shrugged. “Last minute probably means gifts for tomorrow.”

“Is Ruby excited?” Taze asked.

“She always is this time of year. She’s a good filly, works hard.” Tears began to well up in Berry’s eyes. “Makes her mamma proud.”

“You’re both hard workers.” Taze smirked. “I’m sure you make her proud too.”

“A mother tries.”

“And look at what you did. You built a successful establishment, and you keep it going. Don’t downplay that!”

Berry gave a watery smile and nodded. “You’re one of the good ones. If you were a stallion, I’d probably kiss you right now.”

“Well, the sentiment’s appreciated.” Taze chuckled. “Anyway, I should show this to Pensword.” He turned to leave. “You have a good evening, Berry.”

As Taze came over to where the Thestrals sat, an active discussion on the best methods to bait for bigger game and trap them was brewing into a spirited debate..

“I’m telling you, catnip will bring a chimera running faster than you can blink. They get one whiff and the other heads are doing everything they can to try to stop it,” one Thestral noted.

“Uh Pensword, message from Shawn,” Taze said, handing the note over.

The Pegasus flickered over the note, then sighed. “He really does like to work, doesn’t he?”

“Keeps the mind busy.” Taze shrugged.

“I suppose so. And it is for a good cause. I mean, without us being able to go home, I suppose we’re the closest thing to family we’ll have for the holiday.”


“That's true.” Taze nodded. “We are all we’ve got right now.”

“Well, almost,” Pensword said as he looked meaningfully around the table. “They may not be brothers and sisters, but I think it’s safe enough to say we have comrades here, if not friends.”

“Yeah, but I feel you know what I meant.”

“The spirit, if not the letter.” Pensword smiled. “Care to join us?”

“What's the current conversation?” Taze asked.

“We were discussing various hunting techniques and how best to use the kill after. Food, clothing, weapons, that sort of thing.”

“Ah,” Taze said. “Nah, I think I'll leave that to you guys.” He smirked. “Maybe I’ll get some reading done.”

“Found something new to catch your interest?”

“A few things. Never hurts to cast a wide net.”

“Especially when considering plans for what’s to come ahead at the castle?”

“Yes, though I'm also trying to learn more about Equis for the sake of having the facts sorted out.”

“Twilight can probably get you some books on loan from the Royal Archives if you need something more detailed,” Pensword pointed out.

“I’m sure I'll be fine.” He smirked. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will. See you later, Taze.”





Pensword took a deep breath as he stood outside the last door in the hall. Mutatio had alerted him of Shawn’s return. And however brief it may be, now was the time if he wanted to execute his plan. His wings each cradled a saddlebag protectively.

“If you’re nervous, it’s best to get it over with quickly,” Moonshade pointed out. “A hunt requires patience, but these are your friends.”

Pensword chuckled to try to relieve some of the tension. “That doesn’t always make it easier.” Then he sighed and raised his hoof. “Still, it is good advice.”

“I wouldn’t be where I am in the Guard if I didn’t have the wisdom to go with the training.”

“And the modesty,” Pensword added with a faint smile. The knock wasn’t exactly a full one, but it wasn’t the quiet whimper one might expect from someone struggling with nerves either.

“You’re clear,” Shawn called out from within.

The door creaked open, and Pensword entered with his heart hammering at his throat while Moonshade remained as cool, calm, and placid as a shadow in the night. In short, she lived up to her namesake.

“I’m glad I was able to catch the both of you before bed,” Pensword said as Moonshade closed the door behind them.

“Something up?” Taze asked.

“Well, not exactly in the sense that you might be thinking.” Pensword approached the duo, then sat on his haunches to gaze at his friends. Shawn sat at his desk looking over some papers with quill and ink at the ready. Taze sat on his bed looking at the smaller equine. “You know, I never noticed how big you two look from this perspective before.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I … wanted to share a family tradition with you if you don’t mind, something we used to do every year back home for the holiday.”

Shawn hummed questioningly.

“Each Christmas, we’d get together as a family and open a gift, one from each family member. And, well, since you’re my family here, I wanted to make something for us.” He blushed through his fur. “I had some help from the Apples, but the painting was me.” He reached into his saddlebags with his wings and pulled out two satin cords dangling from something cupped in the feathers. When he released his grip into the two humans’ hands, a pair of identical wooden shields were revealed, painted in alternating bands of metallic red, silvery white, and red again before reaching a blue center with a five-pointed white star. “These are for you.”

“Wow, that … thanks,” Taze said, surprised.

“Captain America’s shield,” Shawn commented as a grin formed. “Very well made and painted. Thank you.”

“Who is Captain America?” Moonshade asked.

“A fictional hero from our world. Based off the latest iteration, he was a young man, thin and weak, but with a pure and honest heart. He wasn’t fit to serve in the military, but tried his best anyway and was offered an alternate path. The offer in particular was for a serum that enhanced his body and mind, giving him the capability of serving his country like he wanted to. In the course of time, he became a symbol to the people, the symbol of patriotism.” Shawn continued to smile as he looked over the amulet.

“So something like the Power Ponies?”

“If you mean a group of heroes brought together through strange circumstances to team up and save the day? Then yes, very much like that,” Pensword said. He removed two more shields and gave the first to Moonshade, then placed the third around his own neck. “I made these as a sort of a promise. Maybe in part because I knew, at least on some level, about what happened at the castle. That … changes a person. And I don’t know what that might mean for me while I’m a Pony. This is supposed to be what I would have been if I were born here in Equestria. I’m hoping that means I can keep my personality without any side effects, but if transformation magic is anything like our myths say on Earth, some things might start to change, or at least try to. I wanted to give these as sort of a promise to you all that I won’t let go of who I am or stop being a friend. I don’t want to abandon that. So, I’m hoping that we can each be kind of like Captain America is for Bucky with each other. We never let go, and we make sure we all stay the same, even if the world tries to change us. And … though I’m hoping it doesn’t happen, … we all come to help each other if one of us gets in trouble. No man, or Pony, left behind.”

“Thank you.” Moonshade smiled. “I hope I too can embody what this person means to you.”

“Well, you’re already off to a great start with everything you’ve done for us,” Pensword pointed out.

“Getting us out of the palace, fighting with Taze and Matthew during the invasion, keeping us connected to Princess Luna, just to name a few,” Shawn said casually. He peered at his shield one more time, then placed it inside the drawer of his desk. “Not to cause offense, but I have some final preparations to make for tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to risk damaging something so important.” He looked at the Thestral. “Would you like to assist me, Moonshade?”

Moonshade nodded. “Please, lead the way.”

Shawn nodded and donned his coat. “Until tomorrow, gentlemen,” he said with a hint of a smile.

“Until tomorrow,” Pensword returned sincerely.

“Later,” Taze added.

As Shawn and Moonshade left, Pensword looked to his friend. “And what’re you going to do now, Taze?”

“Keep reading.” Taze shrugged. “You?”

“Not sure.” He yawned heavily. “Though I guess my body is telling me I should get to bed. I may be a Pegasus now, but I’ve been spending some pretty late nights with Moonshade lately. I guess even this body has its limits.”

“Sleep well, man.” Taze said.

Pensword chuckled. “See you in the morning, ‘Bucky,’” he said goodnaturedly, then took his leave.

Meanwhile, Shawn was leading Moonshade toward the forge. “Nobody else should be in tonight, so I won’t have to worry about interruptions.”

“So what's the plan exactly?” Moonshade asked.

“You’ll see once we’re inside,” Shawn replied as he opened the entrance for the two of them. Once closed behind him, he exhaled. “Thankfully, this place has a couple of spells cast on it to deal with the noise, so we can talk freely in here.” He gestured toward his work table and led her to it.

Once nearby, he reached underneath the desk and opened a secret compartment with a soft click, from which he removed a wrapped object followed by a rolled parchment. First, he unrolled the scroll, revealing the design to Moonshade, followed by revealing said wrapped object. “While I normally would trust my instincts, I’d like a second set of eyes and someone to help me ensure the balancing on it.”

She looked curiously over what he was unwrapping. “Oh my. That looks incredibly well done.”

“Trying my best to get as near perfect as possible.” Shawn smiled as he checked over his blueprint once more.

“Well, it looks like you succeeded. The shape is flawless.” She stopped. “Near perfect?”

“True perfection is impossible. You can’t please everyone, nor can you remove every flaw. For perfection to exist, everything would need to be the same. No difference, no change, no disturbances,” Shawn remarked with a shrug. “A bland lifestyle.”

“That's a very deep thought process.”

“It’s the way we think. Honestly, I searched up and read as much as I could in between work and my free time, mainly to satiate my own curiosity about things.” Shawn chuckled. “It’s why I tried to figure out as much as I could about this world when we arrived. I needed to know.”

“That's fair. I just didn’t expect the depth of the statement,” she noted as she examined the object. “So what's next?”

“I’ll need you to test balancing, see how it feels to you. Given my strength, I want to ensure it’s good enough for Pensword.”

“Oh, I can do that,” she said, reaching for it.

“Beyond that, I’d like your input on other things, and that’ll be all for now.” Shawn continued to look over his design. “Oh, and would you be able to stop by the tavern early in the morning, roughly around six thirty to seven or so? Unless you’ve already turned in for the night, in which case, don’t worry. I have a surprise that I think will be nice for everyone.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure to be there.”

“Glad to hear.”





The morning was chill and cold, and the blankets warm. The depths of sleep and dream had wrapped the denizens of the room in its grasp and was not willing to relent easily. A great battle raged as familiar green turtles struck with staff, swords, nunchucks, and tsai to take on the hordes of mutants and horrors both mystical and scientific. Taze stood in the midst with them, wielding the archaic nodachi to strike.

Just as he was making an opening for the other turtles, a tentacle wrapped around his frame, squeezing his chest and slapping his face with a dank smelling wetness. A gasp of, “Go!” and a few other assurances mingled with expletives sent the turtles hurtling ahead, even as he wrestled with the monstrous appendage and the creature that lay at its source.

The pressure tightened as he hacked at the limb, and fluid sprayed in his face, leaving it sticky as the tendril continued to writhe and was soon joined by its fellows, tightening and brushing in rough strokes against his face, as if to take a page from Davy Jones’ kraken to remove it entirely.

Finally, when his chest began to burn, blackness closed in, causing the world to shrink and ultimately disappear in favor of a more familiar darkness, though the pressure on his chest remained, as did the rough and sticky treatment pulling and yanking at his cheeks.
“What's going on?” Taze growled as the world swam into place, his vision covered by a small white face and glowing blue tongue. “Sylvio?”

Sylvio barked playfully and wagged his wooden tail with a clattering chatter as it passed back and forth. His haunches stood up in the air as he brought his head low toward his paws, then licked Taze on his chin, leaving behind another sticky trail of sap.

“Good morning, you.” Taze groaned, rubbing Sylvio’s ear.

The canine’s glowing eyes rolled as his tongue lolled and he panted.

Taze laughed as he grabbed the canine and the two roughhoused for a bit. Finally, Taze’s growling stomach ended the match, and a very sticky human rose to prepare for the day. Sylvio waited patiently while Taze washed the sap off and got changed into a new set of clothes. The tone had increased on his body with the continued exertions he’d made training his troops, cutting away more fat while providing greater definition in the biceps and calves.

At last, it was time to leave, and Taze made his way to the door, casually noting the distinct lack of Shawn’s presence. The man hadn’t flung a pillow. Instead, he let Taze sleep in and left Sylvio to finish the deed.

As the two left the room, a yawning Pensword greeted them. A book with the picture of a Pegasus and some weights on its cover lay on his back, and his wings were just coming to rest against his sides. His breath came a little too quickly as he offered a, “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Have you seen Shawn at all?”

Pensword shook his head. “Just woke up a little while ago. I’ve been, uh … practicing wing-ups,” he said bashfully.

“Weird. He usually wakes me up. Hope everything’s fine.”

“If it weren’t, we would have been hauled out of our beds by now to go looking for him,” Pensword pointed out. “I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

The Pony’s stomach grumbled, and Taze’s soon followed suit.

“But maybe we can look after we get some breakfast?” Pensword asked.

“That seems like a smart plan.” Taze nodded.

The common room was still full of festive cheer and decked to the nines for the holidays. No rabble rousing had ruined the cheer of the season. Not a garland was out of place, not a table broken or otherwise shifted. The fire crackled merrily, and foals gathered around one of the tables to share their gifts one with another.

“About time you two woke up,” Berry said. Her face was drawn, and she winced slightly, but she still offered a smile for the foals’ benefits. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.”

“Happy Hearth's warming,” Taze returned. “How are you?”

“Dealing with the mother of all hangovers, but aside from that, I’m peachy.” Berry shook her head slowly. “I’ll get over it soon enough. Just need to work through it till it eases.”

“Drink lots of water,” Pensword advised. “It helps the most, even if it feels like the least.”

“An old drinking buddy of mine would think you’re suicidal if he heard you say that,” Berry said as a wry smile touched her face. “The stallion literally lives on booze.”

“Well, speaking of drinking, do you have any food left over from last night? We don’t want to make you cook this morning if you’re in that state,” Pensword said.

“I can make eggs if need be.” Taze shrugged.

“No need,” Shawn said as he stepped out from the kitchen bearing a silver tray covered in a massive cloche. “Gentlemen, ladies, I present to you Hearth’s Warming breakfast.” He lowered the tray and removed the cloche to reveal a spread of eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, and English muffins. “Pinkie!”

“Right behind you, Shawn!” Pinkie said cheerfully as she burst through the kitchen door balancing a stack of trays precariously on her back. She walked with unnatural grace and managed to place each tray on the table without breaking so much as a sweat, despite the laws of physics and reality working against her every movement. What had begun as a simple enough breakfast had been transformed into a veritable breakfast buffet. “Eat it while it’s hot, courtesy of Lord Shawn!”

Not needing to be told twice, Taze started to fill a plate. “Awesome!”

Pensword smiled. “Is there anything you can’t do, Shawn?” he asked as he began to dish his own plate.

Shawn chuckled. “A lot, but I’m always learning more.”

“You’ve just gotta make sure it’s fun, fun, fun!” Pinkie said cheerfully as she bounced around the room.

“Well, I suppose she’s not wrong,” Pensword noted. “I know I can certainly mention plenty of fun facts about The Titanic.”

“No!” Taze said outright.

All the heads in the room turned to stare at the source of the sudden outburst, their gazes questioning, but not quite at that point where they were willing to ask outright about it.

“He’ll go for days if you let him,” Taze said.

“I’m not sure they know what you’re talking about, Taze. It’s not like we were drawing attention until you shouted,” Pensword pointed out, then smirked. “But I think I get the point. “Should I make that a special Hearth’s Warming gift for you, then? A bonus?”

“Whatever helps make you happy.” Taze chuckled.

“So I can talk about The Titanic, then,” he bantered.

“Pretty sure that defies the rules of war.”

“How so?” Pensword asked before chomping into an English muffin.

“Torture.” Taze stuck his tongue out.

“Perhaps I should make interrogation my field of specialty then while we’re here.”

“Less talking, more eating,” Shawn said. “We have a big day ahead of us, and lots of gifts to give.”

“Oh? You have an itinerary?” Pensword asked.

Shawn gave a hint of a smile. “Something like that.”

“Well, I won't deny the more eating bit.” Taze laughed and dove in, followed soon after by the others.





“Did you feel that?” Taze asked.

“Feel what?” Pensword returned.

Sylvio cocked his head in confusion.

“Taze?” Shawn asked.

“Somebody is doing something very stupid,” Taze said, looking around.

“How would you even—?” Pensword began when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud cry of—

“Incoming!” The great shout heralded the arrival of very intimate and dangerous foals as Scootaloo soared with her scooter, out-of-control wagon, and passengers. The air was rent by the screams of fillies as one particularly loud shriek cried out.

“I told you this was a bad idea!”

The actions that followed were not so much a matter of the right thing to do as they were of instinct and reflex. As three fillies went airborne, rendered weightless by the height of their drop from above when compared to the descent of the wagon, each of the trio acted in haste. Pensword lunged upward to seize a small purple filly with golden eyes in mid-air. His wings beat quickly as the shiny wagon tumbled toward the cobblestones with the anticipation of a mighty crash.

The others didn’t seem to care, however, as Shawn raced along the walkway, following the downward arc of a small white Unicorn with a pink and purple mane. He grunted as she landed in his arms, but managed to right himself in time to adjust for the weight of the impact. Lastly, Taze seized Apple Bloom like a little football and hugged her to his chest before leaping through the air in a forward somersault and landing on two wobbly legs. A blur of rainbow finished off the rescue as Rainbow Dash swooped down for the save Scootaloo from colliding into a building alongside her scooter.

“Need a hand?” Rainbow Dash asked of her biggest fan, leaving the foal grinning and squealing silently in delight as the coolest mare in Ponyville, at least in her eyes.

Pensword let out a sigh of relief as he lowered Dinkie to the ground slowly. “Is everyone all right?” he asked.

Taze set Apple Bloom down, panting. “Do I even want to know what that was?”

Sylvio promptly came over and began licking the young foal with all the force he could muster, much to the foal’s dismay.

“Scootaloo wanted to show us what it was like to fly. And the others thought it would be fun to try to get a cutie mark by being daredevils.” Dinkie shuddered. “You saw what happened next.”

“Well, the ramp we made did work, Sweetie Belle pointed out as Shawn put her down gently.

Sylvio promptly turned from a thoroughly sticky Apple Bloom and began his assault on the Unicorn filly next.

“Why’s his slobber so sticky?” Sweetie Belle asked as she struggled with the cub’s tongue.

“Well, he is a timberwolf cub,” Pensword pointed out.

“So?”

Shawn couldn’t help but smile a little as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “So what flows inside trees and sticks, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no. Tree sap?” she wailed.

“Got it in one,” Shawn replied.

Dinkie shook her head. “The statistical anomaly those three constitute is positively staggering,” she said. “Somehow, some way, they always manage to get sap involved.”

“So, what brings the four of you by? Aside from your daredevilry, I mean,” Pensword added.

“We wanted to get ahead of the presents.”

“What presents?”

Dinkie pointed mutely toward the end of town square, where a familiar red Pony hauled a large cart effortlessly as he plodded along, his yellow mane hanging like straw. Applejack walked beside him, and the steam of fresh Apple pastries wafted in the air.

“Well well,” Shawn said as the cart trundled closer. “What brings you all up this way?”

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, everypony,” Applejack greeted. “Got a few goodies for y’all, and a few gifts from our family to yours.”

“Eeeeeyup,” Big Mac agreed.

“Same to you two,” Taze said. “Everybody doing well?”

“That depends,” Applejack said as she looked pointedly at Apple Bloom and the sticky sap that had thoroughly coated her. She looked plainly at Taze. “Crusaders try some crazy shenanigans to get a cutie mark?”

“You need to ask?” he shrugged.

She shrugged. “It’s the ritual.”

“They wanted to be daredevils.”

“And they were awesome at it!” Rainbow Dash said as she swooped in. “You should’ve seen how high they jumped!”

Pensword frowned. “They could have been hurt if we weren’t here to catch them, Rainbow Dash.”

“You act as if that's a deterrent.” Taze facepalmed.

“Minor injury is one thing, Taze. A serious injury is quite another.” Pensword sighed and shook his head. “You three really need to put more thought into everyone’s safety before you go on these adventures of yours.”

“Calm down, Pensword,” Taze said.

“It’s not like we mean to get into trouble,” Apple Bloom said as she fixed the Pegasus with the devastation of a stare that was all the more devious because of how it came so naturally to her. Unlike Fluttershy’s stare, this one was designed to engender sympathy and stop the hearts of those who were unprepared with the sheer force of its cuteness.

Pensword had little choice but to avert his eyes.

“Anypony got a shower or bath we can use to clean up their fur? Faster we get that sap out, the better,” Applejack said smoothly.

Shawn shrugged. “Berry’s got a tub, I suppose. She probably won’t mind if we need to use it.”

“Though it might be a good idea to ask Sylvio to stop licking the foals before that,” Pensword pointed out.

“Hey, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Taze asked as he rubbed the pup's head. “You don’t ask a dog to do that. He’s just showing affection.”

Applejack chuckled. “Just like Winona.”

The journey back to the Punch Bowl was filled with many stops along the way and well wishes by the Apples as baked goods were distributed with good will and cheer. Finally, they arrived at the Punch Bowl and a sighing Berry Punch.

“All right. You know where to go. Just don’t get sap on the furniture, okay?”

“Somepony might want to watch them, too, just to be on the safe side,” Pensword pointed out.

“Big Mac?” Applejack suggested.

“Eeeeeeyup,” Big Mac said with a nod as he guided the fillies toward the stairs with his unblinking gaze.

“So, it’s a holiday, we’re all off duty….” Rainbow Dash started with a grin. “How’s about we all hang out and have some fun?”

“I suppose we do have to wait for the foals to finish washing,” Pensword mused. “And I do have this board game Matthew left behind….” He grinned. “Anyone up for a game of strategy and conquest?”

“A board game? Really?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Never downplay board games.” Taze smirked. “They are timeless.”

“And this one just might surprise you,” Pensword finished.





Time passed, and the game of strategy and chance raged as battles were fought and dice were flung with passion and gusto with that prayer that always flies on the wings of chance and luck to bring about the optimal future. Or at least to try to. The outcome was still in doubt when the door to the Punch Bowl opened to reveal two familiar purple figures, a Unicorn and a Dragon.

“Happy Hearth's Warming, everypony!” Twilight cheered.

“Same to you!” Taze returned, not looking away from the board.

“Aw man, you started playing the game without us?” Spike frowned at the sight of the board and the sprawl of pieces and armies as the players plotted in their respective bids for world domination.

“We didn’t know you would be coming,” Pensword pointed out.

“What better way to spend a Hearth’s Warming than with your friends?” Twilight pointed out, then smiled. “Especially when they come bearing gifts?”

“Are you trying to butter us up to forge an alliance in the game?” Pensword asked playfully.

Twilight giggled. “Think of me as a neutral party bearing gifts of peace.”

“And comic books!” Spike added excitedly.

“Well, comics are definitely a great way to promote peace,” Taze laughed.

Twilight rolled her eyes indulgently and smiled as her horn levitated a number of wrapped gifts that were suspiciously book-shaped. “From me to you.”

The wrappings were torn open to reveal three leather-bound volumes, each dyed a unique color to suit their owners. Shawn’s was a deep blue with golden accents to match his coat. Taze’s was a rich forest-emerald with glossy brown brass accents. And lastly, Pensword’s was a vibrant marbled red with gold embossing.

“They’re specially designed to be bound to their owners. I cast the enchantments myself. All it takes is a drop of blood. After that, the books will only reveal their contents to you.”

“Wow, that's really useful. Thanks!” Taze said, looking it over. “Almost reminds me of something I came up with for a story.”

“Well, you did say magic in your world had some basis in theory for this one. It makes sense that some of the ideas you would come up with for a work of fiction might cross paths with something we can do here.”

“That has some terrifying possibilities.”

“Mind control magic wasn’t enough to point that out to you, Taze?” Pensword asked.

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Taze said.

“Do I?”

“Lord of the rings, DnD, the Black Cauldron. We made a lot of terrifying things.”

“You could always ask a historian if you’re that worried. My guess is a lot of those kinds of magic were already taken care of or sealed away.”
“Some people would argue that would be sealing away knowledge.”

Twilight sighed. “Must you two argue like this? It’s Hearth’s Warming.”

“Who’s arguing?” Taze asked.

“Um, … aren’t you?” Spike asked.

“Oh, this?” Pensword chuckled. “No, we do this all the time. Back home, we call it debate.”

“And it is the height of polite society.” Taze smirked.

“That, and it’s a lot of fun. Almost as much as when I get to beat Taze in a roll.”

“Yeah, which never really happens,” Taze laughed.

“So you say.”

“Yes, I do.” Taze nodded.

“So, are you two going to debate, fight, or keep trying to conquer the kingdom?” Shawn asked. “People are waiting, after all.”

“Sure.” Taze shrugged.





With the ending of the final battle came the closer that many had longed for. And though the salt flowed freely for the decimation that had been wrought so ruthlessly, the general camaraderie of the gathering had not been broken by the new leader of Equestria. Taze was even nice enough not to belittle Princess Celestia, choosing to hold his tongue, rather than imply the victor might be a better ruler than she.

“So I guess now's the time, huh?” Taze asked as he looked around.

“Everyone does appear to be here,” Shawn confirmed.

“Do you think they’re ready?” Pensword asked with a smirk.

“Ready for what?” Apple Bloom asked as the other foals, Ponies, and Dragon looked curiously at the trio.

“I mean, everybody’s here that needs to be, right?” Taze said.

“Looks like it,” Pensword agreed. “For the most part, anyway. So, who wants to go first?”

“I guess I'll start, '' Taze said. He ran up the stairs and returned with a number of packages, which he laid on the floor for everyone to see. “Spike, you first.”

“Really?” Spike looked taken aback as he looked at a small wrapped box. The paper was cut gently with his claws to reveal simple wood. When the lid was lifted, the whole room seemed to fill with a dazzling radiance for a moment, followed by gasps of mingled fear and surprise. Spike jerked his arm away as he looked warily at a large silver pendant about twice the size of a bit that lay on a felt-lined cushion. The inscription on its surface read #1 Assistant.

“It … was a nice thought,” Twilight said consolingly as she looked at the medal. A glow passed over the box to close the lid gently. “Spike is just … wary about precious metals after an incident we had before you arrived in Equestria.”

“Dragons hoard gold and valuable objects.” Taze shook his head. “This is silver. I’ve never heard of a Dragon hoarding silver, and I defy you to name one here and now.”

“Well, that one red Dragon we encountered did seem to only have gold and precious gems,” Rarity admitted.

“You would remember that, wouldn’t you, Rarity?” Applejack deadpanned.

“There’s nothing wrong with admiring good taste. And that Dragon had excellent taste in jewelry,” Rarity sniffed.

“I assure you it’s safe, Twilight,” Taze said. “Go ahead, Spike.”

Spike looked uncertainly at his friends, then back at Taze. Finally, the human knelt and laid his hands over the Dragon’s claws. The box came open slowly. There was no flash this time. The silver glinted, but not too brightly. The familiar words stood out, and a cloth band flowed, waiting to be wrapped around Spike’s neck. He blinked. Then he slowly brought the box closer. His eyes were still normal. No fire escaped his mouth. No spikes sharpened along his tail or spines. He took the pendant and placed it gingerly around his neck, then braced himself and breathed. One second. Two seconds. Five.

Finally, Spike’s expression shifted from surprise to awe to a goofy grin. “I think it worked. I … I don’t feel any different at all!”

“Glad to help.” Taze patted the Dragon’s head. Spike responded by giving him a big hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Taze smiled gently, then looked at the CMC. “All right, let's see. You four next,” he said as he gestured to them.

“Um, … can we get our gifts at the same time, Mister Taze?” Apple Bloom asked. “It’s not that we’re complaining or greedy or anything. We just … wanted to do it all together, if that’s all right.”

“Well that's easy enough.” Taze smirked as he slid a rather large package in front of the four. “This is for all of you together.”

“What is it?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Something really cool, I hope,” Scootaloo added.

“Well, based on the dimensions and the overall weight when Taze carried it to us—” Dinkie began.

“Less talking, more opening! Come on, girls!” Scootaloo cried.

The fillies moved as one, and the wrappings were torn asunder to reveal a large bronze shield. The face was embossed and painted with a familiar coat of arms. The fillies gasped with delight.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sweetie Belle asked of Taze.

“It is indeed.” He smirked.

The squees of delight were worth it, even as the crusaders pranced and danced around the shield proclaiming their newly gained prize to the world.

“But how did you make it?” Sweetie Belle asked. “I thought Lord Shawn was the one who did all the smithing.”

“I had some help.” Taze smirked.

“Who?”

“Just a smith who was willing to lend a hoof.”

“And what do you girls say?” Applejack prompted the fillies.

“Thank you, Mister Taze!” the four said together.

“You are going to help them put that thing up in their treehouse, right?” Applejack asked.

“Of course. It probably weighs as much as they do,” Taze said. “Ruby?”

“Yes?” The young foal looked up at the human.

“I have something special for you,” he said, pulling out a smaller package. “This is rather unique to my heritage.” The package opened to reveal what appeared to be a carefully crafted wooden figurine of princess Celestia.

“It’s beautiful,” Ruby gasped as she took in the intricate painting and the lifelike gaze of the Alicorn rendered so carefully on the wood.

“You see, in the culture my ancestors hail from, they have these dolls that represent the family,” he explained as he slowly lifted the top half of Celestia to reveal a similar, albeit smaller, figure of Luna within.

“They open up?” Ruby looked curiously at the figure of Luna.

“And each figure is someone smaller than the last.” He smirked, removing Luna's top half to reveal Princess Cadence.

Ruby gasped again as her eyes widened at the sight. “How far do they go?”

“This set only goes two more layers, but some could go as far as twenty.”

“That must be so tiny!” Ruby exclaimed as she pulled open the figure of Cadance to reveal a familiar purple Unicorn.

“Hey, that’s me!” Twilight said in surprise.

“Yes.” Taze nodded. “I thought it was fitting, as Cadance babysat you.”

Twilight blushed. “I suppose she was like a big sister to me back then. And … well, she really is my big sister now.”

A squeal of delight drew everyone’s attention to the final figure, a tiny little rendering of Spike. Ruby held it close and nuzzled it in her excitement. “He’s so cute!”

“That’s my Spikey-wikey for you,” Rarity said with a smile.

Spike blushed at the praise from the mare and tried not to let it show. So, naturally, it showed even more prominently. “Aww shucks.”

“Where did you get the references to make these, anyway, Taze?” Twilight asked. “Did Shawn carve them for you or did you go somewhere else for the help?”

“Shawn helped a bit. I also got some help from Big Mac. I had to hire someone to paint them, though.” He shrugged. “I hope you like them, Pinchy. They’re one of a kind.”

“It’s a wonderful gift. Thank you.” Ruby hugged the human, and Berry couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Shawn, how about you go next? My gift is a sort of one-for-all thing,” Pensword said.

Shawn nodded in return and sorted through some wrapped gifts and placed them before each of the children. “Tried to match everything just right.”

Apple Bloom received a customized tool kit that would fit her hooves and mouth so that she wouldn’t have so much difficulty making repairs and building projects. Scootaloo received a brand new scooter to replace the worn out model she’d been riding so hard all winter. Sweetie Belle received a microphone enchanted to amplify her voice so that she could sing to an audience. Dinky received a metal gyroscope with an hourglass in its center that would flip and shift according to how she adjusted the spindle over the device. And lastly, Berry Pinch received her own personal juicing press to squeeze fruits dry and produce her own refreshing beverages, of the non-alcoholic variety of course.

Smiles spread around as effusive thanks were given and hugs were administered. Lastly, Spike opened his box to reveal a radiant green emerald that left his eyes wide and his mouth drooling at the sight.

“Where did you get this?” the young Dragon asked in awe.

“From the Crystal Empire,” Shawn explained. “I wasn’t too sure on what would be best, so I chose an emerald. Quite a special one at that.” He chuckled.

“How so?” Spike asked as he licked the gem to test its flavor.

“Well, it’s from over a thousand years ago at least, for one.”

“Didn’t you say you carried it in your pocket? Doesn’t that mean it was locked up with you, too? Would it have even aged, then?” the Dragon wondered.

“If it was in my pocket, yes. After everything was settled, I went back to clear out some locations and gather other fragments for cleanup. Our base of operation was relatively untouched and had a small stockpile of materials.”

“And you decided to give this to me instead of put it in a sword or something?” Spike’s eyes widened. “And I thought that ruby heart was going to be tasty….”

Shawn simply smiled in response and sat himself back, allowing Pensword to present his gifts.

“I have a couple of gifts for our little foals here.” He smiled as he shifted two rectangular packages over. One was taller and thicker. The other was slimmer with raised edges that tapered downward. When the wrappings were removed, a stack of pages was revealed from the lower package while the upper one revealed a picture frame that enshrined what appeared to be the sketch of a watchtower. “The first one is a gift for you all to enjoy when Taze isn’t around to tell you his stories. They are tales that you can read to each other. All completely unheard of in Equestria, I assure you.” He smiled knowingly. “The second one is a gift that will be put into action when Winter Wrapup ends. Since you four were so helpful in offering ideas for construction and design for a watchtower to make use of in next year’s snowball fights, I only thought it fair to incorporate some of them into our own designs for watchtowers that we’ll eventually construct along the path to the Castle of the Sisters in the Everfree. And as everybody knows, a fort, or in this case a clubhouse, deserves to have something to protect it.”

The fillies’ eyes widened almost as fast as their mouths did as they grinned at one another in their excitement.

“You really mean it, Pensword?” Scootaloo asked.

“This one time, I shall make the solemn vow.” Pensword raised a hoof. “Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye.”

He was promptly mobbed by the squealing foals as each worked to hug some part of him to express their undying gratitude. Well, undying until it would die in … oh, about ten seconds or so, when they were instructed to let go and back off so Pensword could breathe again.

“I … suppose I must have done well with that one,” Pensword said as he regained his footing.

Each of the mares offered their gifts to the foals as well before the time came for the exchange between the friends. Rainbow Dash fainted as she was presented with authentic Wonderbolt artifacts in the form of an older military saddlebag, a Wonderbolt pendant that supposedly belonged to Fleetfoot, and finally a mystery envelope that she snatched while Shawn and the others tried to tease her about a possible overload. The warning proved right, however, after she saw the contents, squealed, shot to the ceiling, and promptly fainted.

“Land’s Sakes, Shawn, what’d you put in that thing?” Applejack asked.

“Just some tickets.” Shawn smirked. “Good spots, too.”

“Tickets to what?” Twilight asked. “I never saw Rainbow Dash get that excited before; not even for the Grand Galloping Gala.”

“Given her interests, I’m sure you can piece together which tickets would make her faint.” Shawn chuckled.

“Good grief.” Twilight sighed and shook her head.

“It’s a dream come true. I think we should let her enjoy it,” Pensword said with a smile.

“Not to be a downer, but some of us still have work to do today. Not saying you needed to get me anything, but if you did, mind if I go next? I’ve still got cleaning and paperwork to tend to before the big party tonight,” Berry Punch said.

“That’s fair.” Shawn nodded. “I’m all for it.” It began with Shawn as he withdrew a simple wrapped box and laid it on a table for her. It didn’t take long to open, and a fine bottle of wine was soon revealed, the words Ocean Sunset written in loving and elegant script.

Berry gaped at the bottle as she looked not only at the script but the year that had also been inscribed in a corner of the label. “Where in the name of Celestia’s blazing ball did you find a 920?”

“Took some searching, but I recently had a trip in Canterlot.”

She stared in awed silence at the human for a time. “I honestly don’t know what to say to this. This is one of the last batches ever produced by the maker before Sunny Champagne bought them out. Do rare things just … come to you?”

Shawn just gave a shrug in response.

“Then all I can say is thank you. This will be a real jewel in my collection.”

“Well now I feel silly. I thought this was going to be a lot more original.” Taze reached for a slender shape wrapped in a delicate holiday paper with a shiny red bow and handed it to Berry. The shell was swiftly removed to reveal a slender bottle of blue cut glass wrapped in a silver ribbon. A black label lay across it with a silver crescent moon and stars embossed on its front.

“Moonlight’s Kiss. Now there’s a good brew. You can always tell a good drink by its maker. And this one came after Princess Luna came back. Liquid joy, hope, and dreams, all in one bottle. You wouldn't know it, but the same rules for cooking go for brewing. Get the best ingredients, but make sure you got the right feelings, too. What you get always seems to fit whatever’s in your heart. And Thestrals had a lot to celebrate when they heard the news.” She smiled. “I’ll make sure to save this for a day when I really need a pickmeup. Thank you, Taze.”

“I suppose I win the prize for original gift this time.” Pensword smiled and approached bearing a small spherical container. Inside, a curious wooden top was revealed resting cushioned in felt. It had been painted a deep navy blue, and golden symbols had been painted on each of its four blocky faces. A stout stick sprouted from the top to allow the user to spin it.

“What is it?” Berry asked.

“In their world, it’s called a dreidel. It is used in games during a holiday that holds great significance for many in the humans’ world. Children are encouraged to play with them, but it is primarily used for gambling.”

Intrigue and mischief glinted in Berry’s eyes. “Gambling, you say?”

“I can teach you the rules later,” Pensword assured her.

“Right, right! I’m here, I’m here. Sorry I’m late, Dinkie! Got caught up at the betelgeuse constellation and swerved left when I should’ve ducked right, and then—” The Doctor stared at the humans, then at Pensword. “Oi, shouldn’t you lot have left by now?”

Shawn raised a brow questioningly at the remark.

“Final errands and the like. Or maybe I’m thinking of another Hearth’s Warming. I never know with you and your friends,” The Doctor said.

Shawn hummed in thought. “I suppose there are a few things I need to drop off.”

“Same.” Taze nodded, heading for the door.

“If you’re headed out as well, I’ve got something for you, Taze.” Shawn stood and grabbed a small sack from his side before signaling his friend to follow along.

Pensword shrugged. “I don’t think I have much in the way of errands to run for now.”

“Y’all better not take too long. We got a little celebration going on back on the farm, and you’re all invited to come. Granny’ll have a fit if you don’t at least show up to say hello,” Applejack said.

“We’ll make it,” Shawn called out with a chuckle.

“And in the meantime, maybe I can see about introducing some friends to you, Applejack. They need to learn how to trust others, and you’re one of the most trustworthy Ponies I know,” Pensword said.

Applejack shrugged. “I can sure try, if you think I can help.”

Pensword nodded. “Thanks.”

Taze gave the last gifts he had quickly, then turned to face Applejack. “AJ, there’s a new apple cart in the shed out back. I was going to do something clever, but I don't have time. I’ll see you all later,” he said, heading out.

“So,” Shawn started once the two were outside. “Here is your gift, from Celestia and Luna.” He finished, pulling out a small wrapped package. “Written instructions are with it.”

Taze raised a brow. “You really expect me to accept a gift from Sunbutt?”

“I did say Luna as well.”

Taze grit his teeth, took a deep breath, then finally sighed in defeat. “Fine. For Luna,” he conceded and opened up the package to reveal a golden bracelet with a large emerald set in its top. Delicate carving and shaping of the metal gave the appearance of feathers radiating out from the setting. Talons were engraved below his wrist, meeting together to symbolize the closing of the circle. Taze whistled. “Did she commission this?”

“Luna made it herself, and Celestia enchanted it,” Shawn replied. “Take a look over the note.”

Taze pulled out the letter and scanned the contents, then whistled again. “I guess it makes sense that she’d give us something practical. It’s not like ‘Lord Hammer Strike’ can go anywhere without his best warrior, after all.” He smirked. “Oh, I’m going to have some fun with this.”

“I’m sure you will,” Shawn chuckled. “In any case, we both have some last minute things to do, so let’s get to it.”

Taze nodded. “Meet back at the Punch Bowl or should we just see you at AJ’s place?”

“If it’s early enough, I’ll be back here. If not, I’ll see you there.” Shawn shrugged.

Taze nodded. “All right. Cool. See ya around, Shawn.”

Shawn simply gave a brief wave as he headed off his own way.





Taze examined the bracer Shawn had given him. It was a silver and gold thing that was admittedly a little ostentatious with the large green gem in the center.

Next, he looked around in the cool winter air to make sure he wasn’t being observed by any stragglers or anyone who might see him before he twisted the gem. 

The feeling wasn’t nearly the same as it had been when Celestia cast the spell directly. The sprouting of fur and feathers, the shifting of bones and organs, the growing of unusual limbs; it wasn’t painful. Though it was weird. His clothing seemed to adjust to fit his new body as he found himself digging talons into the snow beneath them and re-familiarizing himself with the knife-like claws.

He heard a weird thrumming sound as he looked himself over, and it took several minutes for him to realize it was coming from him. He was purring. Giving his wings a stretch and a few beats to get the blood flowing, he leaped into the air and let himself catch the wind. The sky called to him like it had to many humans for thousands of years. He smirked at the thought of how they’d envy him right now as he soared through the air. Wilbur and Orville Wright had nothing on this. Howard Hughes never knew the true pleasure of flight powered by one's own body.

Once again, Grif, son of Graf, flew over the lands of Equestria, letting his wings play upon the wind as its song sang through his ears.

A few minutes later, he landed before a door to a familiar house and knocked.

The door creaked open, and a mare peered out in confusion at the imposing Gryphon standing before her. “May I help you?” she asked uncertainly.

“Hello, Mrs.Heart?” he asked. “Mother to one Button Mash?”

“Yes, but who is asking?”

“Grif Grafson? I’m a friend of Taze?”

“Oh, the one who was so nice to my son?” She smiled, and the door opened wider. “It seems he must have a talent for making friends. I take it you’re here at his request?”

“Yes. He asked me to make sure a gift was delivered,” Gif said.

“Then please, come in. I’m sure Button will be thrilled to hear the news.” The mare backed into the house and gestured with a hoof for the Gryphon to enter.

Grif bowed his head and moved inside carefully as he retrieved the package from his pack. The living room was small but cozy, with a small hearth that burned merrily and a few pieces of custom furniture carved and crafted in Ponyville. The occasional grunt or shout of valor would punctuate the air from up a set of stairs leading to the second floor of the house.

“My colt, the gamer.” She sighed and smiled as she shook her head. “At least he has some good friends to balance it. And I can’t really blame him for following his cutie mark..”

Grif nodded. “So I hear. He has a special relationship with Rarity's little sister if I remember correctly.”

“They’re very good classmates. And from what I understand, good friends, too. The two of them used to play an old favorite of Button’s all the time when they were younger.”

Grif nodded. “How long before he’ll take a break?”

“Probably not until I call him for dinner. But you can go up to his room if you want. I’ll introduce you.”

Grif nodded. “It’d be much appreciated.”

The trip was simple enough, and they soon arrived before a red door. One loud knocking was soon followed by the familiar tone every mother takes when calling for their child’s attention through a closed door. “Button, sweetie, there’s someone here to see you. He says he’s a friend of that nice human you met back in Canterlot.”

The door creaked open slowly. “Taze?”

“Not quite,” the Gryphon said playfully. “He couldn’t quite make it.”

“So Taze wanted you to meet me, too? Are you working with him at the barracks?”

Grif nodded. “My name's Grif, and you’re Button Mash, right?”

The colt nodded. “That’s me.” He pulled his door open wider. “I guess if Taze wanted me to get to know you, I should let you in.” The familiar little gaming console built for Pony hooves lay on his bed, its screen still flickering as faint music emanated from it. Much like any young boy’s bedroom, the place looked like a wild beast had rampaged through it with toys and other gear and items scattered around it. A beanie cap sat atop a small dresser, waiting to be donned for another day’s outing. A scarf hung haphazardly on the headboard of his bed. Notes and schematics for layouts and maps were scattered in seemingly random piles over the rumpled sheets and the floor.

“Button Mash, what did I tell you about cleaning your room?” Mrs. Heart chided.

“I did, Mom. It just … kind of got that way again….”

The colt’s mother sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

 Grif chuckled “That does tend to happen with time.”

“Especially with young colts.” Then she smiled gently. “That doesn’t stop me from loving this one, though.”

“Mom!” Button whined as she ruffled his mane and nuzzled him.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Your parents aren't around forever. Enjoy it while it lasts,” Grif said, chuckling more as he searched through his bag.

“You know, I do believe I like this new friend already,” Mrs. Heart returned with a playful smile.

“Not enough people appreciate it before it’s gone.” Grif shrugged. “Probably the best wisdom I can offer.” He pulled a package from his bag and offered it to Button.

“What’s this?” Button asked.

“Hearth's Warming gift from both of us.” Grif smirked.

“Can I get a hint?”

“Nope.” The Gryphon chuckled.

“Not even a little one?” Button wheedled.

“Not even a bit.”

Button pouted, but then pulled open the packaging to reveal a translucent package. The letters beneath assembled together to read Pipe Wrench 2. First the colt’s eyes widened. Then he gasped, and then he began to prance excitedly on his hooves before jumping around the room as he cheered and squealed in delight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” And though he’d only known the Gryphon for a few minutes, he wrapped both forelegs around Grif’s neck as far as they could to express his gratitude.

Grif stiffened momentarily before returning the hug gingerly. “Enjoy it,” he said gently. “These times, too, only last so long.”

“Hey, Mister Grif, not to be rude, but … did anyone ever tell you you talk kind of funny sometimes?”

“Ah, do you mean my outrageous accent?” He wiggled his eyebrows, digging into the Phrench accent slightly more than usual.

“I mean, I guess, but I meant like, the way you talked there, too,” Button said. “I don’t really hear people talk like that much.”

“Have you ever read any history, Button?” Grif asked sadly as internally, Taze dug into the information in the book Star Swirl had given him.

Button shook his head. “We learn some of it in class, but I don’t know much about things outside of Equestria yet. Well, that and the Crystal Empire. The whole town heard about that after Twilight came back.”

“Well, back before the Crystal Empire vanished, Ponies and Gryphons talked very differently than we do now. We learned to think carefully and phrase things in a way that expresses what you mean.”

“Don’t we do that already, though?” Button Mash asked, cocking his head in confusion.

“Rainbow Dash?” Grif raised an eyebrow.

“We understand her just fine.” He shrugged. “I usually see more of Rarity than I do Rainbow Dash. Now she’s hard to understand. I mean, what does gauche even mean?”

“It’s hard to explain, but you’ll understand when you're older.” Grif chuckled. “Button, if I leave you with any wisdom, let it be this. Always ask yourself, ‘If this was the last thing I ever said to this person, would I be okay with that?’ You’ll find it the key to avoiding a lot of troubles.”

“Um, … okay. I don’t know if I get it all, but I guess I can try?” Then Button looked back into his game room. “Wanna try playing it with me?” he asked, motioning toward the game. “If you have time, I mean.”

Grif chuckled. “I can make time. Lead the way.”





Pensword trotted silently next to Moonshade as the two traveled the street. Foals laughed merrily as they flung snowballs at one another between neighbors and family members, pulling cousins and adults in to join the fray. The two friends had to dodge occasionally or fly over the melee, but they managed to evade the worst of the blows, with the exception of one valiant save on the part of Pensword that left him dripping with the detritus of a burst slush ball while Moonshade remained mostly untouched.

“And once again, I am grateful for my Pegasus nature,” Pensword said, even as he worked to shake off the worst of the moisture. “That could have been a lot worse if I were still my old self.”

“Useful to be insulated in the winter?” Moonshade chuckled.

“More than you can even begin to imagine.” Pensword sighed in relief. “I’d freeze at the smallest draft before all this happened. I’m still not exactly happy with the results for … you know, but I know it was beyond anyone’s control.”

She draped a wing over him gently. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s just … I guess I worry what will happen when it’s time to go back. It’s going to be an interesting conversation with my family about all of this. I mean, how am I supposed to lead off? Hi, I got turned into a Pony and may never be human again? My mom is going to freak out. And quite possibly will never let me out of her sight again.”

“Well, on to more pleasant subjects, I have something special for you. I feel like it will be something you’ll enjoy.”

“Oh? I thought you already gave us your Hearth’s Warming gift when you made us that fruit bat.”

“This is a bit more personal,” she said, removing a tome from her saddlebag and offering it to him. “This is a biography on my favorite commander from Equestrian history. He was a Pegasus Thestral hybrid and a commander of note.”

“I thought all commanders were Ponies of note,” Pensword said as he eyed the volume curiously. The leather was dyed a deep navy blue, and the binding and corners of the book had silverwork scrawled along it in beautiful patterns that spiraled toward the center where a familiar symbol stared up at him.

“This one may mean more to you than others.” She smirked. “Commander Pensword.”

“As in the Pensword I had to be back in the Crystal Empire?”

“The very same.” She nodded.

“Well, I guess it’s always good to be prepared if I ever get flung back in time again,” Pensword mused. “You said he was one of your favorite commanders. Any recommendations on where to start?”

“Why don’t we go back to the room and we can start it together?” she asked.

“Do you think we still have enough time to get some chapters in?” Pensword asked as an eager light flickered behind his eyes.

“I think we will.” She chuckled. “We should have plenty of time.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Any reserve broke away in his eagerness as a radiant grin burst through the clouds of his previous forebodings. This was not a time to worry. This was a time to learn new history!

Moonshade shook her head with a smile as she followed after him. She liked his energy.





The Jewel house was a relatively small one, but that was fine by their standards. The point of any establishment or home is not meant to be on size or quantity, but rather on quality, and the Jewels liked it that way. Gem Setter smiled as he sat in his chair next to the fire and looked to the brother he had not seen since he left to find employment in Canterlot.

“So, Brassy, you still putting up with that grumpy lump of coal or did you finally up and leave?”

“You know better than anyone that pressure is a key ingredient in the finest stones, Gem,” Polished Brass pointed out. “And this is no different. I have been rewarded beyond measure for my service by none other than Princess Celestia herself.”

“No!” Gem Setter gasped.

“Oh, yes. You are speaking to the seneschal to Lord Hammer Strike, the newest lord of the Everfree and designated heir to the legendary house of the same name by royal proclamation.”

“Sweet Celestia.”

“Sweet Celestia, indeed,” Polished Brass agreed. “Particularly since she bought out the entire set.” He smirked. “I admit it was pleasant meeting Hammer Strike. And just a little fun surprising him with our presence.”

“You’re not going to make a habit of that, I hope.”

“Never. Master Strike is a true gentlepony, and I would never stoop so low as to deliberately do things to displease him unless he wishes it.”

“Not bad for a Pony from a backwater town.”

“Backwater is often where the best ores can be found.” He smiled. “And the best company.”

“Was that a compliment, brother?”

“Truth,” Polished Brass replied. “And maybe a little compliment, too. I missed home.”

“You may find yourself missing Canterlot by the time home is through with you. With Twilight and her friends here, Ponyville has been one adventure after another.”

Polished Brass chuckled. “So I gathered from your letters.” He rose to his hooves and sighed as he stretched. “That being said, I do have one more adventure to perform before the night is through. I need to go and get your Hearth’s Warming present.”

“It can wait.”

Polished Brass chuckled. “You know me, brother. Neat and tidy to a fault. I’ll be back in no time, and then we can see about preparing that feast for the two of us, hmm?”

“You sure you haven’t let those kitchen skills rust while running that fancy house?” Gem Setter teased.

“You’ll find out when I get back, won’t you?” Brass smirked as he donned his coat and opened the door. “Until then, brother mine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The journey into the crisp air was refreshing after the lazy somnolent warmth of the hearth. The warmth of home still burned bright, and Polished Brass smiled as he trotted along the cobbled street toward his destination and the gift that awaited his beloved brother. Many businesses were closed for the holiday, their owners happily spending time with family and loved ones to mark the special occasion that symbolized the founding of their kingdom and their deliverance from the threat of the windigos. Children laughed as they played and made snow angels or snowponies. Battles were waged and fought with hard-packed powder as the weapon of choice. It was chaos, but it was a beautiful chaos. And through the middle of it, a familiar figure strode, his brown mane flowing naturally down his back into the blue coat that the fastidious seneschal knew only too well for its unique design and stitch.

“Master Strike, is that you?”

Hammer Strike turned towards the voice. “Ah, Polished Brass, surprising to run into you out and about. Enjoying the holiday?”

“It’s been a very pleasant change to see my brother again after all this time. And I trust your holiday has also been enjoyable?”

“So far, it has.” Hammer Strike nodded. “I assume you’re headed out for something?”

“Retrieving a gift for my brother. He handles the family business here crafting and selling fine jewelry for the locals.”

“Fair enough. Then I won’t hold you any longer. Have a pleasant afternoon.”

“Before we part ways, Master Strike, is there any way that I might be of service? I know you said to wait until after the holiday, but I can’t help but feel a certain obligation.”

Hammer Strike shook his head. “I’m all good. No worries. Please, enjoy the holiday to its fullest.”

“Very well, my lord. Then all I can do is offer you this farewell.” He smiled. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Sir.”

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Polished Brass.” Hammer Strike gave a grin, nodding as he departed.





“Say, Moonshade, have you been able to get enough sleep lately?” Pensword asked curiously as they gazed on the sparkling snow fields below their cloudy perch, his present lying open between them. “I mean, you said yourself that night time is usually your time to stay awake, but you’ve been pulling a lot of day shifts. Isn’t that unhealthy for you if you use that drink too much?”

“I’ve been getting what rest I can. I’ll probably need to sleep for a few days soon,” she admitted.

“Why do you push yourself so hard? We have enough trained recruits now to take some of that load off of you. And besides, it’s a holiday.” Pensword frowned. “Don’t make me have to order you to bed rest, young lady,” he said, half teasing and half serious.

She smirked. “Trust me, I’ll rest when everything is done for Hearth’s Warming.”

“I’ll hold you to that. And with this form, I’ll actually have the strength to back it up.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah? You and what army?”

“Well, according to this book, the Equestrian one?”

“That army was disbanded a few hundred years ago.” Moonshade shook her head.

“So what are we training here, then?” Pensword asked. “And for that matter, what about the rest of the guards?”

“What you’re training here will likely end up a hopefully more competent guard division,” she admitted. “But Equestria hasn’t had a standing army since shortly after Princess Luna's banishment.”

“Not to be insulting to Princess Luna, but shouldn’t that incident have encouraged a stronger military presence, rather than a weaker one?”

“Princess Celestia prefers diplomacy to war, and is willing to make some extreme concessions to avoid it. Without Princess Luna to champion a military, Celestia just began relying on her reputation as an Alicorn to act as a deterrent.”

“It looks like that deterrent has run out,” Pensword said bleakly.

“It would seem so. And Princess Luna will probably be working to get the army reformed, but it will take time.”

“And where does that leave us all in the meantime?”

“Working on making a branch of the guard more capable than the other members of the home guard.”

Pensword sighed. “I wish we could do more.”

“Unfortunately, the world operates as it operates.” Moonshade shrugged. “We take it a hoof at a time.”

“I guess there’s nobody, or should I say nopony, I’d prefer more to do it with than you, Taze, and Shawn.”

“I appreciate that.” She smirked.

“What’s that look for?” Pensword asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” she said. “So what's on the docket?”

“Well, we did what I want to do. What would you like to do before the party tonight?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” she said. “It’s too early to be hunting, and Hearth’s Warming is not a day for sparring.”

“Is there nothing else you might like?”

“I’m honestly not sure.” She shrugged.

“Well, I guess until you figure out what you want, we do have a nice view,” he pointed out as he raised a wing. “I know this probably isn’t a factor, but the gentleman in me demands I ask. Are you feeling cold? Would you like a wing?”

“Well, I’ll take the offer gratefully.” She grinned as Pensword followed through. She wasn’t cold, but she wanted the chance to enjoy their time together all the same. And … having him nearby in this form was … nice.





The familiar clop of hooves over cobbled street finally gave way to the dull thud of a casual stroll along frozen earth as the friends passed beyond the town’s borders and into the well-traveled road. The skies above were tinged with beautiful golden light as the sun began its slow descent. Grif stretched his wings wide as they walked, enjoying the chill air rushing through his feathers. Hammer Strike remained calm and composed as he strode next to Pensword and Moonshade.

“Quite the day, huh?” Grif asked.

“And it still isn’t over,” Pensword pointed out. “It’s nice to see everyone having such a good time, though. And even better to be spending the holiday with friends.”

“Fair enough. I look forward to seeing how this party goes.”

“Just so we’re clear, we aren’t going to have to keep an eye on a certain group of fillies to avoid shenanigans involving tree sap and other sticky substances, are we?” Pensword asked.

“Hopefully not, but knowing them, there’s a chance,” Hammer Strike remarked with a hum.

“Eh, I think they can behave for one night,” Grif said.

“One can hope. Then again, aren’t they always trying to behave?” Pensword asked.

Hammer Strike hummed to himself. “You know, it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“You know, one of the best strategies is to not make the worst thing a possibility,” Moonshade commented.

“Try to circumvent Murphy’s Law?” Pensword asked.

“That rarely works out well,” Hammer Strike noted.

“Not trying to circumvent it, just exploiting a loophole.” Moonshade chuckled.

“I suppose in the worst case scenario, we can take the hit for Hammer Strike,” Pensword said with a smile. “That Gryphon form should be able to take most sticky substances, right, Grif?”

“Oh, I’ll happily take a blow for my lord.” Grif gave a teasing smirk as he flapped his wings and bowed in the air before settling back to earth again.

“That joke got old a thousand years ago. When it’s just us, let’s just go with Hammer Strike.” He frowned and rubbed his chin. “Though now that I think about it, maybe I should make it an official order. Still not a big fan of the whole lord thing….”

Grif laughed as they kept moving.

“Well, at least we’ve gotten used to our fur and feathers,” Pensword pointed out as they crested a hill to look over the vast stretches of apple trees that comprised the Apple Family Orchard.

“And wings and other things?” Grif added.

“Mostly,” Pensword said a little more uncertainly. “I’m still … working out one or two kinks.”

“We’ll work it out together,” Moonshade commented as she rested a wing on his back.

“It sure helps having someone like you to teach me,” Pensword agreed with a smile.

The companions finally arrived at the barn, where warm lamplight flooded invitingly to spill over the hardened ground and invite all that saw its glow. Inside, fiddles played merrily with other country instruments to brighten the mood as Ponies socialized. A great table was set with all manner of famous Apple Family baked goods and meals for Ponies to go to whenever they felt the urge.

“Nice,” Grif said as he looked around.

“Looks like things are already in full swing,” Pensword said.

“Indeed,” Hammer Strike agreed as he gazed over the crowd. When nopony raised a fuss at their arrival, he smiled. “And this is why I enjoy Ponyville. Nobody cares about me being a noble.”

“Lord Hammer Strike, welcome!” Mayor Mare beamed a smile as she approached from the punch table, holding a cup of the Apple family’s famous cider.

“Almost nobody,” he corrected sullenly, then addressed the mayor. “Mayor Mare. As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I assume you’re here at the Apples’ behest?”

“It’s a big gettogether,” she said as she nodded. “The Apples throw it every year, and the rest of the town tries to help by bringing a little something everypony’s made to contribute to the refreshments and decorations. Twilight really does know how to work wonders when she gets a plan together. First the Winter Wrapup, and now all of this. We’re so fortunate to have her here with us.”

“Indeed,” Hammer Strike agreed. “She does seem to have quite the passion for research and organization.”

“Obsession seems more accurate.” Grif smirked.

Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’m sure we can keep that in check if we need to.”

“Well then, shall we?” Grif asked, taking a step into the barn proper.

“You know Granny Smith’ll take her cane to us if we don’t,” Pensword pointed out. “She doesn’t care who you are when you’re under her roof.”

“Eeeeeeyup,” a deep voice said from behind them as Big Mac approached bearing a platter stacked high with steaming goodies to replenish what the table had lost.

Grif strode into the room with a casual salute to Mayor Mare as farewell, then took the barn in, as this was technically his first time inside. “Sturdy build. Reminds me a bit of some places back home.”

“Can’t really call it a barn if it ain’t gonna hold up against a storm,” Applejack said with a proud smile as she approached and looked over the eaves and support beams. “Built it all ourselves, too.”

“Granny says if I’m really good, I can help out with the next one we raise!” Apple Bloom added as she popped up behind her sister with a cheerful smile.

“Impressive,” Pensword said as he approached with Moonshade in tow. “You must be very good with woodwork, then.”

“Not good enough to get a cutie mark, though….” Apple Bloom sighed.

“None of that now. It’s Hearth’s Warming. You’ll get your mark when it’s the right time. Right now, you should focus on being yourself and spending time with your friends,” Applejack said encouragingly, even as she gave the foal a playful noogie.

“So is there a story behind that?” Grif asked, pointing to a place on one of the walls where a wooden hammer with a head shaped like an apple rested.

Applejack shrugged. “Old family heirloom. Granny knows the story, but she don’t talk about it much. Said an old friend of the family made it a long time ago, back when Ponyville was just starting, as a way to protect ourselves while we got the orchard planted and the like. Way Granny tells it, she almost got killed once when she found the zap apples that make our orchard so special till he saved her. He gave it to them after, to use when he wasn’t around.”

“Impressive work.” Grif nodded.

“What do you think, Hammer Strike?” Pensword called to the Earth Pony.

“It certainly looks durable,” Hammer Strike remarked as he looked at it. “Good choice of wood for it as well.”

“Does anypony use it still?” Pensword asked curiously.

“Nope,” Applejack said. “Ain’t been much of a need.”

“Well, at least if it is needed, you have it in good condition,” Grif said.

“I’d say I hope it won’t happen, but after what happened with Sombra….” Pensword sighed and shook his head. “Better to be prepared.”

Grif made his way to the food with a grin.

“So, uh … is there assigned seating for this gathering or is it just sort of a mulling around kind of event?” Pensword asked curiously.

“Not really.” Granny shook her head. “But if’n you youngins are lookin’ for a nice quiet place to yourselves, I recommend the loft. There’s more than lovebirds nestin’ up there, ya know.” She cackled as her eyes shone with the merriment of one who knows more than one is telling.

Moonshade blushed and gave a few splutters as she attempted to say something.

Pensword’s face turned almost as red as Big Mac’s fur before his wings shot out and he promptly covered his face with them.

“Come now, Granny Smith.” Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle. “Keep that up, and they won’t even be able to look at each other.”

“They’d better get on with it sooner than later,” Granny said pointedly. “Some youngins’re too shy to try.” She shook her head. “It’s a crying shame, ’specially on Hearth’s Warming. If the spark’s there, ya see if it’ll catch. Plain n’simple.”

“E-excuse me,” Pensword said quickly and strode toward the front doors again to cool off the steam rising cartoonishly from his mane.

“Ma’am, I think you’re reading into something that's not there,” Moonshade attempted to deny.

“Won’t be if you don’t get at it,” Granny said pointedly. “Go on now. Don’t gotta rush, but you’d better do something. Otherwise, you’re just gonna wind up with regrets. Believe me, I know.”

Giving a confused look at Granny, Moonshade walked off after Pensword.

Grif gave Hammer Strike a knowing wink.

Hammer Strike gave a shrug and smirk in response.

“Grif! Hammer Strike! Hey! Welcome to the party!” Spike greeted as he trotted over while weaving through various Ponies’ legs. He already had an apple fritter in one hand and a plate stacked with other goodies cradled in his other arm.

“Hey, bud. How goes?” Grif asked the Dragon.

“Not bad.” He grinned. “Shining sent me a whole batch of new comic books to read! And I got a new set of quills and scrolls to take down notes for Twilight. Oh, and a scarf from Rarity.” He sighed dreamily at the name as he thought of the mare who had so thoroughly captured his heart.

“Sounds like the day’s been good for you then,” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“It always is. That’s what Hearth’s Warming is all about, after all. Come on! I’ll bring you to the others.” The young drake grabbed both friends by their hoof and talon respectively and pulled them along deeper into the barn until they found a table off to the side where Twilight and the other mares were sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

“Well look who it is,” Rainbow Dash said with a knowing grin.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, Rainbow and I were right!” Pinkie Pie sang.

“Um, hello,” Fluttershy said with a gentle wave of her hoof.

“I see my little Spikey-Wikey didn’t have any trouble finding you two,” Rarity said with a smile. “But where are Pensword and Moonshade? Shouldn’t they be with you?”

“They’re probably flying by the moonlight.” Grif chuckled.

“Oh, how romantic,” Rarity sighed.

Hammer Strike raised a brow. “I believe it’s for the sake of getting some fresh air after Granny Smith said some things to them that neither was ready to hear,” he clarified.

“Not anything rude, I hope.”

Hammer Strike shook his head. “No, just blunt. That has a way of pushing people sometimes.” He shrugged. “So, I take it everyone is having a good time so far?”

“Definitely!” Twilight agreed. “This party really came together tonight.”

“Surprised you managed to take the break,” Grif teased.

“That was her gift to us,” Pinkie Pie said with a grin. “Besides, parties are my thing.”

“Oh, we’re well aware,” Grif chuckled

“Still, it’s nice to get together and just enjoy each other’s company instead of having to worry about the day to day grind,” Rarity said. “We don’t get to do girls’ nights nearly so often as we like.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I trust your Hearth’s Warming has been an enjoyable one thus far?” the fashionista asked.

“Though some things did require some last minute attention, it has been a good day so far,” Hammer Strike replied with a small grin.

“Would you care to join us after you finish settling in?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Ooh, ooh, ooh! And Grif and I can have some fun, too!” Pinkie cheered. “I can’t wait to show you my cherrychangas!”

“Sounds … interesting,” Grif said.

Pinkie Pie just giggled in response and winked playfully toward nothing.





Pensword sighed as he snuck into a far corner to drink his punch, being careful to keep in the shadows to avoid the watchful eye of Granny Smith. What was her problem, anyway? Sure, Moonshade was nice, and helpful, and if he were born in Equestria, he might like her … maybe … right?

He shook his head violently. “Why am I even thinking about that…?” he breathed to himself. Once again, he could feel the heat flushing his cheeks as he thought of her smile, her discipline, her example, her kindness, that glossy blue fur, the moonlight filtering through the membrane of her wings as her eyes glowed in the night. The warmth of that cocoon over his back as they read together on the cloud….

“You okay there?” Grif asked his friend as he approached.

The burning and steam returned. “I honestly don’t know.” He groaned and shook his head as he ruffled his mane with his hooves.

“Talk to me then,” Grif said, patting his back.

“How am I supposed to talk about this, though? I mean, she just … and I just … Gah!” Steam blew out of his ears with a familiar whistle that everyone in the room seemed to ignore. Such happenings must have been fairly normal in such a magical place as Equestria, particularly in Ponyville.

“Take a deep inhale, count to ten in your head, exhale, then talk to me. We’re friends, right?”

What followed was more akin to hyperventilating than a proper breathing session. “I don’t even know what to say to all that, Taze. I mean, sure, I like hanging out with Moonshade. She’s kind and helpful, and she’s taught me so much about culture here in Equestria, especially with Thestral traditions, but now Granny’s saying we’re more out of the blue and … and I don’t know how I feel about that. Other than embarrassed, obviously.” He hung his head low and sputtered. “I mean, I know I’m a Pony now, but I was a human before all this. How would that kind of relationship even work? Could it? Would I want to?”

“I think maybe you're overthinking it a little,” Grif said. “Is she an animal to you?”

“If you mean like back home, then no, you know better than that.”

“Is she less than you?” Grif asked

“Taze, you know I don’t think of her like that.” Pensword grit his teeth as his frustration began to overtake the embarrassment.

“Then as your friend, I’m telling you to see where things go. Don’t run from your feelings.”

“But would that even be right? We were human before we became this. I’m grateful for the friends we’ve made. I really am. But … even if I am attracted, and I’m not saying I am, … would it be right as someone who comes from a completely separate species?”

“I mean, look at your own answers to earlier questions, at your own feelings. Thinking of her differently got you frustrated. That should say something.”

“The question is should I listen to what’s being said.” Pensword sighed. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Go with your gut,” Grif said.

“Taze, you do remember my gut is the last thing I usually listen to, right? I’m a planner, a tactician. Guts usually means bad ends for me.”

“Chance has a place in everything. Sometimes you need to take a leap of faith.”

“Faith might be what keeps me from leaping in the first place.” Pensword sighed again. “But I get what you’re trying to say at least. I just … wish Granny hadn’t said anything is all. Now it feels … awkward, I think I want to say?”

“Yeah, well, she probably thought it would do more good than harm.” Grif shrugged. “If you need to talk about it, I'm right here.”

“Honestly, what I could use right now is a good distraction until I can process all of this.”

“Well, there’s plenty of distraction here.”

A small cluster of foals approached hesitantly toward the pair. “Um, Mister Grif? Mister Pensword?” one of them asked.

“What's up?” Grif asked, turning to them.

“We were wondering … could you and Mister Pensword tell us some stories? A lot of foals want to ask, but … well….” They scuffed their hooves and looked toward the other parts of the barn, where many other foals were watching as covertly as possible. Which, of course, meant they were being completely conspicuous.

“Well now, a story is it?” Grif asked in a deep gravelly voice. “Well then, friends, you’d best find us the best seat by the fire.”

The foals squealed in delight as they scattered through the room in search of their fellows to spread the word.

Pensword smiled. “Just leave enough room for me to tell some, too. They did ask for the both of us, after all. And they probably have some questions about our time in the Crystal Empire, too.” He hummed to himself. “A thought occurs, my fine feathered friend. Did you want to make this a collaboration, perhaps?”

“Both are possible, my friend. It’s merely a matter of how many stories we can tell before the night ends.” Grif smirked. “A good story is a priceless thing. A few good stories is a treasure trove.”

“Let’s give them a horde, then, shall we?”

Grif smirked. “Let’s.”





Rarity looked casually over the gathering as she sat at her place and ate an apple turnover daintily, as a lady should. She allowed her gaze to rest on Hammer Strike briefly, then returned attentions to her plate to avoid the impression of staring. “It seems the storytelling is going well,” she noted as she pointed toward the flickering light emanating just beyond the barn’s doors. Much of the barn itself had settled down with the foals’ attention focused on the words drifting from the cool night air outside.

“That is one of the many things they’re good at,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “Grif especially.”

“And what about you?” the mare asked demurely.

“I’ve told some stories in the past, but it’s not something I do often.”

“I … hope you’ll forgive me if I sound rude with this question, but, … is it that you don’t like to talk so much? I notice you seem to prefer keeping things brief.”

Hammer Strike paused and thought to himself for a moment. “I’m sorry if I seem that way. I’m fine with talking, it’s just that … well, certain events in recent times have left me more in my own head than verbal. I don’t mean to give off that impression.”

“Then … is it more that you need the right somepony, or … that is, someone to talk to about it?”

“Perhaps. Though, you’re certainly making headway there at this rate.” He gave a soft smile.

Rarity returned the smile in kind. “One can only do one’s best. And I am the bearer of the Element of Generosity, after all. But in the spirit of fairness, it seems only right that you should be able to ask me some questions in turn.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “I could certainly use this as an opportunity to learn more about you.” He gave a small smile. “How about a reversal? Besides your talent as a seamstress, what else do you dabble with?”

“Well, self care is one of my other hobbies, I’ll admit. A good visit to the spa, a nice girl’s day out. But when it gets down to it, I suppose I dabble in what I can help with. If I can support someone, I do my best to. Provided it’s safe and responsible, of course,” she added quickly.

“Certainly a positive trait.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“Come to think of it, that’s one reason why I was rather vexed with you. You keep leaving all these bits without saying a single word. And I keep telling you you don’t have to. How do you get away so quickly and silently, anyway?”

“A trick I learned over many years in my younger days, to disappear.” He chuckled briefly.

“By magic or by stealth and grace?”

“The latter.”

“There is a certain charm about you,” she agreed as she peered over him. “You could definitely do well on the runway if you wanted to. You have that kind of presence.”

“I’d rather not.” His smile faltered. “I’ll stick to what I know and am good at.”

“Being humble and helping your friends?” Rarity asked. Then she smiled. “My kind of stallion.”

“Well now, getting ahead of yourself?” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“Getting a—?” And then she understood. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant!” she said hastily. “I mean, … you are an attractive stallion, but I was speaking strictly from an assessment of your character!”

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but let out a faint laugh. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Do you always tease friends like this?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled.

“Now there’s a side of you I haven’t seen much since you came here.” Rarity smiled in turn. “You look better when you smile.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His smile softened into a more relaxed state as the two continued to enjoy their time together.

The party continued in that fashion with friends old and new catching up and discussing the year, sharing the feelings of the season, and otherwise having a good time. Finally, Big Mac’s hoof stomped loudly on the floor, causing the wood to shudder, followed by a loud whistle from Applejack. All eyes turned to face the source of the commotion, where Granny Smith stood to peer at the gathering.

“Most of you folks know how this tradition goes here at Sweet Apple Acres. We treat the town like family, n’we like to invite you here to make sure you remember it. But this year, we’ve got some newcomers, so I’m gonna explain a few things before we have our holiday toast.” She fixed her gaze over the room, going from left to right before resuming. “You youngins in the guard are here to train and learn how to protect Equestria. Now I wasn’t there in Canterlot, but my Applejack was, n’she told me the details. Equestria hasn’t had to fight for a long time, n’now you’re learning to fight for us. Now, I ain’t no expert, but to me, the best reason to fight is to protect somethin’ precious. For me, that’s my family. For you, it’s your herd. And while you’re here in Ponyville, this herd is your family.

“Lots’ve folk here in Ponyville can’t travel easy to the big cities, so they come here instead to be with us. We may not be blood, but we’re just as much a family in this community as any other you find. We fight, we argue, we make up, and we love and look out for each other. That’s what family’s for. N’that’s what Heath’s Warming is all about. So, on behalf of the Apples at Sweet Apple Acres, I just want to say, welcome to this family, n’welcome to this community.

“Now that’s out of the way, it’s time to talk to everypony.” Granny smiled. “Now, as Matriarch at this here gathering, first thing I wanna say is thank you for coming and spending time with us. We know it’s hard to be with family if they’re far away. That’s why we have this get together every year. N’after those Flim Flam brothers tried to pull a fast one on us, you all helped clean up n’make our orchard whole again. That’s what family does, n’y’all showed that with flyin’ colors. This may not be a tradition in all parts of Equestria, but it is here.” She raised a glass full of cider. “We all offer a toast in honor of the season. It can be to friends, to family, to anything you like what feels deserves it. And since I’m the hostess here, I get to start.” She smiled. “To those who came before, our ancestors who found Harmony and the magic fire of friendship to push back the windigos. Now, we always try to follow their example, but it never hurts to think back n’remember them when times get rough n’we don’t always think straight. Let’s try to be more like’em in the new year to work for peace and a better future, like my family did here in Ponyville.”

“Hear hear!” came the hearty reply as Ponies and Gryphon drank.

What followed was an individual toast from each in accordance with the ritual, and the base reply dedicated to whatever the toast was for.

Rainbow Dash started it off. “To the wonderbolts.” She took a sip as the others shouted the toast in repeat.

Grif followed in somber recollection, as a warrior would. “To those that died for the Crystal Empire.” And as before, the gathering repeated his toast, each drinking in turn.

Twilight Sparkle stood up next. “To Princess Celestia, raiser of the Sun, and Princess Luna, raiser of the Moon.”

Rarity smiled as she stood up. “To Lord Shawn, who could not be here in person, but is present in thought and mind. May he be successful in his task.”

Apple Bloom stood next. “To my big Sister Applejack, the best big sister I could ever have.”

Applejack blushed from her place next to Granny as she raised her own glass in response. “To my entire family, who kept me true and straight when my own head got too big for the pasture.” This caused a few laughs, but the group shouted the blessing as well. With a unanimous, “To the Apples!”

Derpy Hooves was humble and composed as she rose to offer her toast. Some flinched back, possibly expecting an accident to befall the mare. Rather than harbor any resentment, Derpy offered a sad smile that turned brighter as she addressed the rest of the gathering. “To Equestria. May she forever shine as a beacon of hope and light.” 

Pinkie was next. And in Pinkie fashion, she made sure to baffle and entertain her friends at the same time. “To the writers and editor.” There was a pregnant pause as the gathering awaited which specific periodical or book she was referring to. Pinkie just beamed, winked once, then broke character after clearing her throat. ““I mean … cupcakes?”

Twilight shook her head and chuckled. “Pinkie….” Her friends soon followed, and the town repeated the secondary toast, rather than question the first, as was the ritual with Pinkie Pie. After all, the holiday wouldn’t be complete without at least one of those Pinkie antics.

“To Ponyville.” Big Mac’s voice rolled low and deep through the air. The rest of his toast was nonverbal as he looked at Granny Smith and smiled. The old mare nodded her acknowledgement, even as she wiped a tear from her eye.

Fluttershy was extremely quiet in her toast, but she managed to work up enough courage to say her piece, since she was among friends. “To Equestria and all the life on Equis, may it remain as wonderful tomorrow as yesterday.”

“To Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo raised her mug causing everypony to laugh as they humored her with a sip.

“To Rarity!” Sweetie Belle chimed in, following the trend Apple Bloom had set.

“To Mommy and Papa!” Dinky finished. Everyone raised their mug, Grif and Pensword grinned as they mouthed ‘To the Doctor’ and took their drink.

Next, The Doctor stood up and offered his toast in true loving fashion. “To Derpy one of the most fantastic mares in the world. And to Magic, a most wonderful way to live.” After taking his seat, he leaned over and whispered something to the mare, causing her to giggle and blush.

Spike rose next. “To Twilight, the best teacher and sister who helped raise me to be the best assistant dragon in Equestria.” He smiled with pride while Twilight blushed and her friends toasted her.

Moonshade was calm and reserved as she raised her glass. “To dreams. For without them, there would be no progress, nor will to see another day.”

“To our history,” Pensword began. “For with history, we have the rudder to guide us to a better future.”

Berry Punch rose next. “To the humans and ponies from Canterlot, who have made my life a whole lot more interesting, and who have singlehoofedly created the most talked about place in town.”

Berry Pinch followed her mother. “To the guests who made my momma happy and gave us so much. Thank you!”

Hammer Strike smiled as he stood for his turn. “To friendship,” he started, “something that has brought us all together, a force that has made us who we are and shaped our bonds with one another, bonds that have held us all together through the bad. So I say, to friendship. For without it, without you all, I surely would have gone mad long ago.” He finished with a strong smile that bordered on a grin before lifting his glass to swallow.

The toast finished with a resounding agreement with the calls ranging from, “Hear hear!” to a spirited, almost shouted repetition of the first refrain, “To friendship!”

When the rest of the toasts had finished, Granny called for attention again. “All right, all right, I’ve kept you waiting long enough. Let’s get this Hearth’s Warming meal started!”

As one body, the gathering erupted in cheers as dinner was served.





The party continued. And after much storytelling and revelry, the evening began to wind down. Foals yawned and fought valiantly against drooping eyes while parents looked meaningfully toward one another and the watches they carried. The country music and the carols had fallen silent, and a blanket of tranquility seemed to pulse with the flickering of the Hearth’s Warming flame burning above the barn.

With the writing all too clear on the wall, Granny Smith rose to address the gathering. She cleared her throat and raised a wooden mug high in her hoof. “All right, all right. Settle down, youngins. Well, any youngins with enough energy to still raise a fuss.” She smiled playfully at the adults. “Today’s been a good one, a time t’remember what came before us and what it means to us as a herd. Times like this, a speech is supposed to be made. And since I’m the head of the house here, that means I get to do it. Now I aint got no fancy words or special gifts, but that ain’t what Hearth’s Warming’s supposed to be about anyway. It’s about what we here in Ponyville try to be every day in our community, a place where everyone’s welcome, and anyone can work together for a greater good.

“Earth Ponies worked the land to settle it. Pegasi moved in to help with the weather, and Unicorns worked with the Earth Ponies to build up the town you all know and love today. It was hard and dangerous work, but we stuck together, and look where it’s gotten us now. Ponies like our town’s Golden Oak set the example for the rest of us. And it’s up to each of us to keep that torch lit every year, every month, every day. Now I see a new settlement waiting, a new adventure to be had, full of danger and excitement. We have a new generation of settlers training up for the long haul, and it’s been our privilege to host ’em. Now winter’s gonna be wrapping up before we know it, and those settlers’ll be moving into the Everfree to do what they promised. So I say let’s do what everypony did back at the first Hearth’s Warming, and what everypony did for Ponyville. Let’s support them so we can build something new together.” She raised the mug high. “So here’s my toast. A toast to harmony, to new friends, and to a new and exciting future together. Let’s make the most of it, everypony, and drink up!”

She hoisted her mug, then drank deeply as the gathering shared in her second and final toast of the holiday with the warm stock of cider she’d saved just for this occasion. Then Granny smiled.

“All right now, off with ya. I know when it’s time for youngins to be in bed, and I’d say it’s well past time for some of you. We’ll see y’all around town again soon. And don’t be strangers if you wanna stop by. We’re always glad of the company.”

As everyone began to disperse, Grif walked up to Granny and gave a short bow. “That was an amazing evening. Thank you.”

“Tweren’t hardly nothin’,” Granny said. “Just treatin’ folks like family. I would’ve treated you like heroes, but I think you got enough of that treatment back in Canterlot. Sides, small town folk get excited real easy sometimes.” She shrugged. “You still gonna help with the woodcutting?”

“You can count on me, Ma’am,” Grif said, not even flinching at the fact the mare had made the connection between his human and Equestrian form. After all, Applejack was her granddaughter. It only made sense she’d let the matriarch of their family know. “And thank you. It’s nice to have people treating us as people, you know?”

“Any time,” Granny assured. “Now y’all get home safe and sound, y’hear me?”

“Well, I suppose all good things must come to an end,” Rarity said with a sigh and a smile. “Thank you for the wonderful conversation, Hammer Strike. It’s been an absolutely delightful evening.”

“It has been,” Hammer Strike agreed. “Since I’m headed the same way as it is, there is something I do want to talk to you about.”

“Oh? Is … that an offer to walk me home?” the mare asked.

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Then, shall I walk you home?”

“Well, … if you really are going that way, then there’s not much I can do to stop you, is there?” Rarity asked as she allowed a hint of a smile to pull at her own lips.

Hammer Strike nodded before turning in the direction of Granny Smith. “It’s been a pleasure. Have a pleasant night.”

Granny nodded her assent. “Till next time, Hammer Strike, Rarity.”

Lastly, Pensword approached the mare. “Thank you for the night,” he said awkwardly. His cheeks were still flushed, but it seemed the worst of the shock had worked through his system by this time.

Granny nodded. “You’re welcome, sonny.” She paused a moment, puckered her lips, then finally spoke again. “A word of advice to a young stallion like you. There’s another reason I said you might want to move on your Thestral friend over there. Spring time’ll be here before you know it. And when it comes, mares are gonna start going into heat. Better to have somepony to keep you grounded and ward off the ones what can’t control themselves.”

Pensword gulped. “You mean…?”

Granny smiled. “Make of it what you will, Pensword. It’s your life to live, not mine. But a stallion your age should know how to take those kinds of things into account. Take it from me. Mares like it when the stallion makes the first move. Don’t gotta be flashy, just show ya care. If it’s gonna happen, it’ll grow on its own, same way you grow an apple tree, nice n’steady.”

“So what was that supposed to be tonight?”

Granny grinned. “Transplantation.”

Pensword sighed and smacked his forehead with a hoof. “I’ll … do my best to follow your advice.” As he strode toward the doors and spread his wings to take flight, Granny Smith nodded to herself.

“Now there’s a wise stallion.”





Rarity’s fur glowed in the frosty moonlight as a soft blush brought an appealing contrast to the bleaching effect of the moon. The two’s steps thumped gently and casually along the dirt road on their way to the town proper. “Thank you for agreeing to escort me. Especially with Sweetie Belle staying the night at the Apples’.”

“It was no problem.” Hammer Strike smiled. “It didn’t feel right to let you walk home alone.”

“That, and you did say there was something you wanted to talk with me about. Did you want to discuss it now or a little farther along?”

“Now should be fine. I actually wanted to commission something from you.”

“You do realize you don’t have to pay me. After everything you’ve done, you just need to ask,” the mare said gently.

“Not getting out of it that easily,” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“And if I were to say you overpaid me last time?” A hint of a smirk pulled playfully at the mare’s lips.

“We’ll say it was a tip for well-rendered service.” He smirked in response.

“And if I insist on making it a Hearth’s Warming gift?”

“Sorry, you already left that one waiting for me.”

“And a mare can’t give another?”

Hammer Strike couldn’t help but chuckle once again. “I suppose it’ll be a late gift, then, and I may have to return that kindness with one of my own.”

“I believe that’s what they call paying it forward?” Rarity asked.

“Paying. That, I can manage right away.”

Rarity pouted, then regained her composure. “I think we’ve gotten a tad off track. You said you wanted me to help make something? What’s the project?”

“Something simple for my other self,” Hammer Strike replied. “Some simple clothes to use, such as a plain jacket, shirt, and pants.”

“Plain? On you?”

“Indeed.” He nodded. “I didn’t always dress like this, and … at times, I find myself wanting something familiar to how things were. Before all of this.”

“I’d need some ideas of exactly what ‘before all of this’ would entail, of course. You remember you arrived here in noble garments, after all. I suppose I could take it as a challenge. Something that doesn’t make such a loud statement but still highlights your nobler traits,” she mused. “Though I’ll definitely need to have a long discussion with you about what your plain clothes entail compared to ours.”

“Nothing as complicated as you may be thinking. Plain to me is just the cloth itself, no intricate designs or symbols. Just a comfortable, simple design,” he replied after some thought. “Of course, we can talk more about it when the holidays are over.”

“With all the guards you have to train? Or will you have enough free time despite that?”

“Given my insomnia, I’ll have plenty of time to handle all of that,” Hammer Strike replied confidently.

“You know, we do have remedies for that,” Rarity pointed out. “Have you considered trying some of them?”

“They come with some downsides I can’t have affecting me, so I’ll just have to manage for the time being.”

Rarity raised a brow in a mixture of confusion and concern. “Downsides? Twilight tells me that the sleeping draughts most Ponies sell don’t have any side effects. Have you been taking them as a Pony or as … your other self?”

“The downside being that it will likely keep me asleep for too long, as Luna mentioned probably needing stronger doses for me. Also, Pony form, since it might not work with the other biology.”

“That’s very odd. Have you considered asking Twilight to help you with it? She’s very good at analysis. She might be able to isolate what’s causing your problems with the draughts.”

“For all we know, it’ll probably be something simple yet unfixable.” He shrugged.

“Well, if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open. We just have to be careful not to wake Sweetie Belle.”

“I appreciate the offer.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile.

“Any time, darling. It’s what I do, after all.”

It didn’t take much longer for them to arrive at the Carousel Boutique, where the mare paused at the door. “I can’t exactly promise a good night’s sleep, but … I do have some chamomile tea I can put on the stove if you’re interested?”

“Perhaps next time.” His smile softened. “I need to get back soon, as the others will likely be there soon enough. Have a good night, Rarity. It’s been a pleasure.”

Rarity smiled and waved in turn as Hammer Strike began the trek toward the Punch Bowl and his waiting friends. “Believe me, the pleasure was mine,” she murmured under her breath as a flush rose in her cheeks, and she finally turned and closed the door.





Grif shifted his wings, forcing himself further at higher speed. The night blurred around him as the chilled winter air ruffled fur and feathers alike. Flight seemed to come to him more and more easily. But with it came an addiction he couldn’t shake, a feeling of the world and a connection with the sky.

Sometimes, he swore he could hear whispers as he moved, the wind telling him to bank left or to dive or any number of actions. It was strange to him as he flew through the winter air that he never seemed to have trouble gaining altitude, despite a lack of thermals or other air currents. He shook his head then to clear it of such thoughts. The numerous ways in which flight defied science would drive him crazy otherwise.

He took a moment to hover above the town and take in the sight, the myriad of houses and roofs with smoke billowing from chimneys. Lights peppered the windows like stars as the sound of celebration and merriment went on. In the distance he could see Canterlot and even Cloudsdale likewise celebrating the night. Something about it all made him smile. It made it all feel worth protecting.

Terrible things awaited in their future. He could feel it. And he knew it would be hard and taxing. But this right here was at least something he could enjoy.





Pensword sighed as he sat on his perch atop a cloud he’d managed to snag in passing. It was a little ragged, since he had to bring a bunch of tinier wisps together, but it was holding, … mostly. Occasionally, he would have to pull back fragments of the substance using a wing to keep things together. He stared at the book Moonshade had given him and brushed its cover. Thinking about Moonshade was a mixed bag. He enjoyed learning about the military from her, how Equestria’s forces had changed over the years, the techniques they employed, the way she and her society had worked to integrate themselves into Equestria again after Luna’s return. He liked the sound of her voice and the patience she showed with him whenever he asked questions. In a lot of ways, she was the ideal companion for him.

“But do I really feel that way about you?” he asked softly as he flipped through the pages. Then he sighed. “Well, I look like you, Pensword. Let’s see if you have any advice that can help.” He cracked open the book and turned to the section on the commander’s wife, then began to read aloud.

“In older days, the Thestrals were treated as outcasts. Unlike their cousins the Unicorns, Pegasi, and Earth Ponies, this particular tribe thrived in the nighttime and worshiped the moon. Their culture has maintained a hierarchy of seven main tribes: Lion, Wolf, Manticore, Bear, Dragon, Fox, and Viper. Each of these tribes then descend into a number of family units or clans within the tribes. Those who are of the same main tribe are welcomed by fellow tribesponies, though they may not be bound together by direct kinship.

“Through oral tradition and records that scholars still are forbidden to see to this day, much of Thestral culture has been retained over the generations, though authorities from various Thestral tribes have admitted that it is still not the culture it once was when their society first formed. As a culture of nocturnal beings, their primary source of food came in the form of hunting and gathering. As such, they developed the capacity and necessity to consume meat in order to survive. The hunt is an integral part of Thestral culture, as is strength and cunning.

“It is these three traits which a traditional Thestral mare would search for in a potential mate, along with other attributes that they judged most important on a personal basis. When performing courtship, it is customary to perform a hunt and offer some of it to one’s intended. The more valuable the kill, the greater the regard for the one to receive the gift.

“While the exact details of the courtship of Pensword and his beloved Lunar Fang are unknown, it is known that on one occasion, Pensword had two robes fashioned from ursa fur, which he and his wife then wore at their wedding and to special occasions that followed.”

Pensword’s eyes widened at that. “How the heck would he have gotten fur from that?”

“By getting involved in an ursa hunt,” Moonshade commented as she flapped next to him.

Pensword’s cloud nearly burst apart when his knees jerked through it, but he managed to fold his wings around its edges to keep it from poofing into so much vapor. It looked almost like the stallion were wearing a tu-tu, even as he clamped the book with his teeth to keep it from falling.

She laughed loudly as she watched him, then finally explained when she regained her composure. “Ursa hunts are rare things that are told in tales. Items made from ursa fur and bone are usually passed down as heirlooms for generations.” She flew over and helped him repair the cloud bank, then pulled him up when the platform was stable before gently pulling the book out of his mouth and laying it on the cloud.

Pensword’s heart raced, both in surprise and something else he still couldn’t put a name to. And since this particular unknown made him uncomfortable, he decided to push past it by satisfying his curiosity instead. “So, it’s like an ultimate prize? Kind of like how a big diamond ring is supposed to be an ideal offering for a proposal back on Earth?”

“You could say so, yes.” She nodded.

Pensword rubbed his mane abashedly. “Then you must really care about us a lot to have gotten us that fruit bat to try. Thank you. And, um … about what happened tonight. I … I’m sorry. I just … I’ve never been through something like that before, and I … guess I sort of panicked?”

“It’s fine. No one likes being on the spot like that.”

“Guess I’m not quite living up to the name, huh?” He smiled sheepishly.

“I mean, there is still time. You could catch up.” She shrugged.

“Are you saying you want me to?” He sighed. “It’s so confusing when you don’t know whether you’re supposed to be that person or just share their namesake. And it certainly doesn’t help knowing that time travel is a factor.”

“Take it a step at a time. And it’s more what you want to be? I don’t want to mold you. We only do that with cadets, remember?”

Pensword couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess we do. As for what I want to be, … I admit I always did want to be in the military before all this. But, … I suppose you’re right, too. If I want to be a warrior, I need to learn how to be it my way instead, don’t I?”

“That's the best way to do it, yes.” She nodded.

“You’ll still teach me how to hunt, though, won’t you?”

“Of course. I said I would.”

Pensword smiled. “Good.” Then he frowned. “Say, I know I’m kind of stuck like this. And I’m not saying I hate it, but … do you think it might be possible to make a few … tweaks to my form if I ask Princess Luna?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I … would like to have the chance to eat what we hunt. And, well, … Pegasi can’t really do much of that. Do you think Luna might be able to make it so I can?”

“Likely, yes.” Moonshade nodded. “It’s within her abilities.”

“Then I suppose that’s something to look forward to, assuming she agrees. I guess, in the meantime, would you … like to watch the stars with me for a while?”

“I–uh,” she blushed a bit before giving a small sigh and a smile. “I would like that.”





The air was cold, chill, and dry. A fitting environment for the winter that had been so painstakingly crafted by the weather Ponies. The night was soft and cool, the blustery winds blunted by the fires of friendship that hovered over each Pony’s chimney to contribute to the power that kept the fearsome windigos at bay. The soft clopping of hooves carried through the stillness as Hammer Strike strode along the street toward the familiar sight of The Punch Bowl. Its fire was a color more akin to the wine Berry loved so much, and throbbed like the hangover that usually followed when one had too much of her brews to drink.

The door opened, and to the Pony’s surprise, a mound of gifts sat waiting on one of the dining tables as a warm fire crackled in the hearth to spread light and shadow dancing through the room and glinting off wrappings that seemed to sparkle with a magic all their own. Or … was that some sort of magical residue?

“I sense something has occurred,” Hammer Strike remarked.

The flutter and billowing flap of wings soon heralded the arrival of Pensword and Moonshade as the two flew together, then gradually circled down to settle by the table.

“Surprising, isn’t it?” Pensword asked as he added his own additions to the pile.

“Is Grif back yet?”

“Here,” Grif said, holding up a hand as he walked down the stairs with his other three limbs.

“So, did you get what you needed to, Grif?” Pensword asked.

“Yup. You?”

Pensword smiled. “I think so.”

“Then, shall we move these upstairs?” Hammer Strike questioned.

“You don’t want to open them down here?” Pensword asked.

“I feel like we’d be taking up a lot of space.”

“Probably for the best.” Grif nodded

Pensword sighed. “And after I already brought my gifts down.” Then he shrugged. “Ah, well. I guess it’s just more exercise.”

It took a few trips to get all the gifts up the stairs, but eventually the friends gathered in Shawn and Taze’s room to see what each of their friends and acquaintances had chosen to give for the holiday.

“So, who’d like to go first?” Hammer Strike asked aloud.

“I nominate Grif,” Pensword said.

“Sounds good to me.”

“I abstain?” Moonshade said, unsure.

Rolling his eyes, Grif pulled out a black case and handed it to Pensword. “This is from me and Storm Hammer.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is either going to be a weapon or armor of some kind?” Pensword asked as he flicked open the case’s latches, then opened the lid. What lay inside was a thing of beauty. The weapon was somewhat large for the average Pony. Four limbs crossed in an X over the front of the wood, and string tied to an anchor point on either side of the crossbow’s body that could be retracted mechanically to provide the necessary tension for distance and force. The inside had been hollowed out to form a long circular tube and crafted with great care while somehow still retaining most of its strength. The tube carried on slightly past where the square-shaped stock and the dual bow shafts ended. Two retractable legs were clipped at the end of the barrel that would allow him to stabilize the crossbow on a flat surface if needed. A removable stock had been carefully crafted from wood and leather, and reinforced with bits of steel to increase durability. A slot above the handle functioned as a holder for cleverly designed magazines that held the darts in place and helped to reduce the need to reload. A closer inspection of the magazines revealed black fletching from familiar feathers on the bolts. The trigger had been thoughtfully crafted large enough for a hoof to fit inside and thin enough for a wing to pull. A classic safety lock sat just behind the trigger to avoid setting it off after prepping the weapon for use. Lastly, he noticed what looked akin to a large spyglass designed to mount on top of the weapon using cleverly hidden clips to enhance his vision when shooting at a target.

“It’s … beautiful,” Pensword breathed. He toyed with it briefly, testing components, preparing to cock it, ensuring each functioned well, and that he could adapt to them. Moonshade drew the line at allowing one of the bolts from the magazine to drop into place, however.

“You’ll have time to play with it later. Let the others have their turn,” she chided gently.

Pensword blushed. “Sorry.”

“So what's next?” Grif asked.

“Since you asked, I suppose I can answer that,” Hammer Strike spoke up before reaching into his coat to remove a wrapped object. “Took a while to get it right, but, I think you’ll find it more to your liking now,” he finished, offering the item to Grif.

Grif took the item and unwrapped it carefully to reveal a modified flintlock pistol. He raised it carefully in his talons. The barrel had been lengthened, allowing for a more precise shot. Grif ran a talon down it in admiration. Beneath the barrel, a long stiletto blade had been tacked on and tucked out menacingly, giving the gun an overall intimidating appearance.

“This is awesome!” Grif smiled as he examined the pistol closely. It was still the same, save for the major changes and a small blank gold plate screwed onto the right side of the handle, indicating the only thing truly missing from this weapon now was a name. “I can’t wait to try it out on the range,” he said. “Thanks, Hammer Strike.”

“No problem,” he replied with a grin.

“And now it’s my turn.” Pensword pulled out a sheaf of parchment carefully bound in rough leather. “Moonshade helped me to put this together for the binding and cover. The rest, I gathered from recruits and people around town. Twilight was especially helpful; though she also insisted on asking me some questions of a more personal nature about life back home.” He sighed and shook his head. “The things that mare could accomplish if she put that much effort into everything else is staggering.”

The book pulled open easily in Grif’s talons, and the cover page said it all: A Collection of Tales Grim and Glad, By Pensword. “Don’t worry, I gave credit to each person I got a story from. I’m not about to risk breaking copyright laws,” Pensword promised.

“This is awesome. Thank you!” Grif closed the book gently and held it carefully.

Grif went through the rest of his gifts relatively quickly. Canned apple pie filling from Applejack; a fruitcake from Rainbow Dash, which then prompted an ominous statement that he knew what to get her for her birthday; a new book on Gryphon culture from Twilight; specialized wood-based feed for Sylvio from Fluttershy; and a book on pranks written by Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash from Pinkie.

While these were all wonderful in their own right, they didn’t quite have the same impact as the gift that followed. The large package was carefully wrapped in a shimmering cloth with gold ribbon for that extra flash of panache that said Style. And although style normally caused the Gryphon to choke and gag, this particular gift stole his breath in an entirely different manner. A soft gasp was the only utterance at first as Grif undid the ribbon and peeled back the cloth to reveal a beautiful white robe.  “Where did she find out about these?” he asked as the clothing was unfurled to reveal a far more intricate design that he had come to expect as the cape and hood revealed themselves. Unlike most common wear, the robe’s hood was designed with a beaklike protrusion that curved over the forehead of the wearer to resemble the beak of a predatory bird. Hardened pieces of leather had been sewn above the chest and shoulders of the outfit. The belt was a red sash with a familiar-looking buckle. There was no way that Rarity could have known about this design without … without inside information.

The Gryphon looked slowly at the Earth Pony and broke their character to address his friend directly. “Shawn, what did you do?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Hammer Strike replied innocently.

The Doctor’s gift, strangely enough, was a feather made of some kind of metal not even Shawn could name. On touch, the metal reacted almost like a real feather, its fibers shifting and ringing as they vibrated. A card sat next to it, and ink manifested on the formerly blank surface as Grif touched it.

Grif, Happy Hearth’s warming. You probably already know who this is, so I’ll cut right to the chase. This feather is considered a mark of great respect among Gryphonkind. It should prove useful to you in your travels and adventures. Place it under one of your wings. Don’t worry, it won’t get lost. The feather will see to that.

Grif raised a curious brow, but did as he was instructed, only to be assaulted by a flash of burning pain as something stabbed into the skin on his wing like a hot knife. The sensation lasted for only a moment before it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. When he opened his wings to check for damage, he found the feather had somehow attached itself into one of the feather roots. “How? What?” He looked at his friends.

Hammer Strike shrugged. “It’s The Doctor.”

When Grif looked at the letter again, the ink had disappeared and been replaced with a simple postscript.

P.S. There’s a 4% chance that you might feel some slight discomfort.

“Slight discomfort my—” The end of his sentence was cut off momentarily by the sound of a closing door nearby. “That hurt like hell.”

“That definitely sounds like The Doctor,” Pensword agreed and shook his head. “So what’s next, Grif?”

With a sigh of resignation, Grif turned to Derpy's gift. A box of chocolate muffins greeted him, and he smiled as he breathed their aroma deeply. “Yummy.” Then he laughed. “And that seems to be everything,” he noted, looking around.

“Your turn, Hammer Strike,” Pensword insisted with a grin.

“You sure?” Hammer Strike asked. “I don’t mind going last.”

“Nope. This time, you go first. Well, technically second.”

Moonshade sighed and rolled her eyes. “Just do it, Hammer Strike. I really don’t want to have to deal with you two going back and forth over who gets priority for the next ten minutes.”

“I suppose I can if need be,” Hammer Strike remarked jokingly. Reaching at random, he pulled a small gift from Twilight. Upon removing the wrapping, he was greeted with a book labeled Noble Etiquette and Rules of Conduct: A Beginner’s Guide.

“Is she hinting at something there?” Grif asked. “Or is that just coincidence?”

“Given how much she is for traditions and such, I don’t know.” Hammer Strike shrugged.

“Maybe she’s hoping you can find some loopholes or something? It’s pretty obvious the nobles at Canterlot are going to want to interfere eventually,” Pensword noted.

“Then again, she could be giving it to you to give us a few laughs,” Grif said.

Hammer Strike shrugged once more. “Could be anything.” He placed the book off to the side and proceeded to grab another gift at random. Which ended up being a similar sized gift from Pinkie. Upon unwrapping, the cover and title revealed it to be some form of joke book.

An envelope unleashed a puff of confetti with a tiny streamer sound effect when opened to reveal the pink party Pony’s message.

Hiya, Hammer Strike! I got you this book to help you crack a smile every once in a while. Even lords need to know how to laugh. Try telling a few sometime. You’ll love what they do to people, trust me.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, nearly forgot. P.S. This is Pinkie Pie. Happy Hearth’s Warming!

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Hammer Strike muttered with a faint chuckle before putting the book off to the side alongside Twilight’s.

“Hammer Strike cracking a joke?” Pensword asked. “Without sarcasm?” He shook his head. “I think the world would end.”

“Clearly.” Hammer Strike smirked as he reached for the next gift. Upon looking at the sender, and the general shape, he had a good idea of what was within. “I get the feeling Rainbow Dash decided we could all use the same gift.”

“That does sound like Rainbow Dash. That being said, maybe it’s actually good. I mean, everything else we’ve tried here in Equestria is,” Pensword noted.

“I’ll give that a try later,” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“These are the perfect gifts,” Grif said. “You can just keep giving them away.”

“Indeed. Or I could try to melt it down. It’s by far the toughest material we have.” He smiled, reaching for the next gift from the pile. This one was a tastefully decorated box with a light peach and gold stripe pattern bound with a golden bow lined by silver on its edges. Inside, he found a series of dress robes designed both for his human form and Pony self. The primary articles consisted of a series of coats modeled after his original blue and gold one. Each was designed to match with certain colors. One of the most prominent, however, was the clean contrast of black and white from the coat to the shirt, vest, pants, and cravat. Unfortunately, the white was the dominant color in the scheme, leaving him open to the curse that always follows that simple luminous splendor.

“This is going to be very difficult to keep clean,” he remarked, looking over the design.

“Well, if you have trouble, you could always go back to Rarity for help. She probably knows all sorts of tricks to save fabrics after everything she’s been through,” Pensword pointed out.

“Probably.” Hammer Strike nodded. “Though, even then, I don’t see myself wearing it too much, sadly.”

“Maybe you can save it for ceremonial occasions?” the Pegasus suggested.

“Special occasions, huh?” He glanced to Pensword. “Similar to what my current outfit was supposed to be?” He smirked.

“Well, in my defense, you are a noble, and … well, formal wear is kind of supposed to be your everyday wear.”

Hammer Strike stayed silent for a moment before sighing. “I miss my casual wear.”

“Did you think about asking Rarity to make you some?” Grif asked.

“Thankfully, yes. It’ll just be some time before it’s complete,” he replied, placing the gift off to the side before reaching for the next.

A large glass jar soon greeted his gaze, filled with brightly wrapped treats that seemed almost to pulse with an inner fire. A simple but artfully crafted card came with it, bearing the familiar trio of butterflies that formed Fluttershy’s cutie mark.

Hello, Hammer Strike, and Happy Hearth’s Warming. Since you’ve made friends with a phoenix, it seems only right that I give you something that he’ll enjoy while he stays with you. These treats are called Ember Coals. They stay stable until the wrapper is removed. Once they’re fully exposed to the air, they ignite. They’re very healthy, good for stoking fire after a phoenix’s rebirth to hasten their growth and for helping to extend their life cycle before their next burning. It also helps to strengthen their fire in the event they have to deal with unwelcome guests or intruders. I hope Renati enjoys them, and that they help strengthen the bond the two of you share.

Wishing you the best,
Fluttershy

P.S. Sorry if I got you the wrong thing. You can bring these back if you want and I can try to give you something else instead. I want my friends to be happy with what they get for Hearth’s Warming.

Hammer Strike let off a soft chuckle. “These will certainly be nice.”

Renati flew over and perched on Hammer Strike’s shoulder, looking curiously at the glass jar. Then he chirped questioningly at the Pony.

Hammer Strike smiled as he pulled one of the treats out and carefully unwrapped it, preparing himself for the fire that was to come.

The ignition came surprisingly quickly. The Earth Pony winced at the heat as it radiated into the wrapper and his hoof, but Renati soon saved him by seizing the blazing object in his beak to hold aloft. The flames seemingly wrapped around the feathers along his face and near his eyes until he raised his head, opened his beak, and let the object slide down his throat. A heavy gulp filled the room, followed by a hissy sigh before Renati’s plumage began to glow and a slight warmth seemed to emanate from the magical creature.

“Well, safe to assume he likes them.” Hammer Strike looked to the others.

“That was … definitely a show,” Pensword said. “Are those supposed to be fireworks of some kind?”

“Phoenixes are weird.” Grif shrugged.

Renati’s head swiveled around immediately and fixed on the Gryphon. His eyes still danced with the remnants of the fire from the treat, giving his glare an extra layer of menace.

“Nevertheless, they are quite unique,” Hammer Strike spoke.

“And apparently willing to hold a grudge,” Moonshade pointed out. “I’ve noticed similar behavior from Philomena before in the palace when she overhears certain nobles badmouthing Princess Celestia. For some reason, they always seem to forget that phoenixes are far smarter than the average bird. And you’ve seen how clever they can be thanks to Fluttershy’s gifts.”

“What did she do?” Pensword asked.

Moonshade smirked. “Let’s just say it was far from pleasant.”

“Okay, next gift. Next gift!” Pensword insisted.

The next package was surprisingly heavy, which was saying something for an Earth Pony as strong as Hammer Strike in comparison to the other smiths and stronger stallions and mares. Even more surprising was how it carried such weight when it was so very small. Another paper was wrapped around it, just like with Grif’s gift. As Hammer Strike stared at the paper, words took shape over its surface.

Hammer Strike, I can’t be cryptic with you. First, you’d see right through me. Second, I may or may not owe you a few favors. Don’t let it go to your head, though I’m fairly certain you never do … or will. Time’s funny like that.

Anyway, this gift’s made from a very specific alloy in a very specific way that, without going into detail, makes sure it can never break or be broken. Don’t ask. (No, seriously, don’t.) Just make good use of it when you’re working. Trust me, you’re going to need it. And besides, what smith wouldn’t want something like this?

Hammer Strike hummed as he looked at the letter, then at the bundle. “Wonder what it could be….”

The letters faded out, and a new sentence faded in.

Well stop standing, asking about what it is and open it! I can’t spoil everything for you, you know.

Yours Truly, The Doctor

Hammer Strike chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Of course he’d say something like that.” Then he hummed. “Let’s see what The Doctor had in mind.” The mixture of curiosity and wariness was soon swallowed by a startled gasp as he peeled back the unique wrapping to reveal what lay beneath. The smithing mallet glinted and shimmered in the light as he pulled it free. True to The Doctor’s word, the entire hammer was made of the metal from top to bottom, ensuring structural integrity and, if what was written was correct, that no part of the hammer would ever be able to wear away or be broken. As he held it aloft and stared at the symbols that had been engraved, a curious blend of Gallifreyan and Equestrian Runes, Pensword and Grif couldn’t help but exchange a knowing and somewhat worried glance.

“Is that…?” Pensword began.

“I think so. Or at least a shrunken replica,” Grif replied.

“Mjolnir,” both breathed.

Moonshade looked on in confusion at their awe. “What is Mjolnir?”

Grif chuckled as Hammer Strike lowered the hammer almost reverently onto the table to join his other gifts. “A powerful weapon forged in the light of a dying star, or so the legends say. The Doctor would be just the kind of person I’d expect could pull something like this off.”

The next two gifts were neither fancy nor elegant nor rare, but that made them infinitely more precious as a can of home-made apple pie filling and a whole box of lucious banana nut muffins both stared Hammer Strike in the face and wafted into his nose. There was no need to ask who they were from, though the cards were still nice to have for confirmation.

“Oh, I’m definitely having those in the morning,” he remarked with a smile as he put them off to the side. “And now, the last two.”

Grif handed Hammer Strike a box. “I talked to Twilight about finding something in case what happened in the empire happens again.”

Hammer opened the gift to reveal a gold bracer. Two gems had been set into it: a topaz cut in the shape of the sun and a pearl that currently hummed with a gentle glow.

“It’s kind of a battery,” Grif explained. “The topaz absorbs sunlight and converts it into energy that’s stored inside the pearl. Should you need a boost, simply tap the pearl four times. But at best, it can hold a couple of hours’ worth of energy, so it’s not exactly gonna make you the energizer bunny.”

Hammer chuckled. “Imagine me on an energy rush.”

“It’d be like he got a full night’s sleep,” Pensword said.

Grif quickly shushed him. “Do you want to invite the world to end?”

Pensword chuckled and nudged his friend in the shoulder. “Still, I won’t walk back on it. It would be nice to see you when you’re better rested, Hammer Strike. Even if it is a little scary. It’d be worth it to see Spock show some deeper emotions.”

Hammer Strike smiled darkly. “Be careful what you wish for, Pensword. You might just get it.” Then he chuckled as his expression lightened and he laid the gift on the table to join his collection.

Pensword nodded at this silent signal and pulled out a simple wooden box he’d carried up from below. “Here’s my gift. You may need a little extra light for it to work properly, but they should still be good to look at at least for now. I had them fashioned based on an old story you told me once, back before all of this started.”

Hammer raised a brow as he opened the box to reveal a set of goggles made with a bronze rim. True to Pensword’s word, the design looked exceptionally familiar. “Wait a minute….” The stallion pulled up the goggles and turned them toward Grif as he tapped the top of them, resulting in light that blared from the front of the lenses to blast the Gryphon in the face.

Grif hissed and turned away from the light. “Hey! That hurts!” As he turned to look at his friends with blurred vision, his pupils had shrunk to pinpricks that slowly struggled to return to their normal size while the barest hints of red veins showed along the edges of the sclera.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but test it,” Hammer Strike apologized, ensuring they were off. “I’m surprised that you remembered about these though, Pensword.” He tried another function from memory and turned the frame of the lens, watching as it darkened. “Rick Fuoco. Ex Divinia etiam, that’s an old character.”

“They do say the old ones are the best. And it’s incredible what a few Unicorns can do when they put their heads and horns together.” He smiled. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Hammer Strike.”

“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” Hammer Strike returned.

Pensword basked in the glow of happiness from a gift well enjoyed before finally sighing and opening his eyes to see his friends staring at him. “Oh, it’s my turn now?”

“Yes,” Grif said.

Instead of pie filling, Pensword found a jar of apple preserves waiting to be spread across fresh toasted bread as his gift from the Apple family. And, even as it had been with his friends, so it was for him as he opened Rainbow Dash’s present to reveal a third fruitcake. “So, we all have fruitcakes now. I wonder, is this supposed to be some sort of joke about us or just her being playful?”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “We all have the almighty weapons that smell very fruity.”

“By the power of fruitcake!” Grif held up his fruitcake. “I have the power!”

Moonshade shook her head and facehoofed. “The one day anypony can act like fools and you really go all out.”

Pensword couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he said in his best Elvis impression.

“... I have no idea what that was supposed to mean,” Moonshade deadpanned as she looked at Pensword. “Was I supposed to laugh?”

“It’s an inside joke,” Pensword admitted. The next gift was a container of special feed for Rommel, courtesy of Fluttershy, and a chew toy for him to enjoy, too. “This will be great if we need to keep him distracted during exercises,” Pensword said with a smile.

“The troops will probably want to adopt him at the rate he’s been charming them,” Moonshade admitted.

“Heaven help them if he manages to convince them to let him get into a munitions cart.” Pensword chuckled at the thought.

“Rommel would take them all on,” Hammer Strike said, shaking his head. “And by chance win.”

“We might need another pet Patton to keep the two in check.” Pensword sighed and wiped a mirthful tear from his eye before moving to pick up his next gift. This one was wrapped in pink paper. As he pulled the wrappings apart, his eyes opened wider as he gasped in surprise and wonder. He hastily covered the paper and rustled with it before pulling back to reveal a face covered in an outrageous bushy black mustache, complete with large circular glasses and a great big cigar to prop in his mouth. “One morning, I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas, I'll never know.” He wiggled his eyebrows, which now looked like two furry black caterpillars.

“Oh, goodness.” Hammer Strike said, putting a hand on his forehead.

“Classic,” Grif laughed.

Moonshade merely raised a skeptical brow. “I take it this is another inside joke I wouldn’t understand?” Her stoic gaze couldn’t help but crack under the onslaught of Pensword’s antics with the getup, including exaggerated swishing and wiggling of his eyebrows and mustache.

Finally, the stallion finished with his fun and turned to the next present, a large box that he opened to reveal a miniature bookshelf stocked to the brim with historical books about Pegasi and their culture and tactics throughout the years. “Something tells me I’m going to have a lot of reading to do….”

“I mean, there are worse fates,” Grif chuckled.

“Indeed,” Pensword agreed and smiled. “I’m looking forward to starting them.”

The next package was wrapped in a familiar paper reminiscent of a certain police call box. “Well, this definitely screams Doctor,” Pensword said as he appreciated the job on the wrapping before pulling it open to reveal eight oranges. He sniffled and wiped the beginnings of a tear away from his eye. “This may be one of the best gifts he could have gotten me,” Pensword admitted as he pulled them out and divided them up amongst his friends. “It reminds me of home, and of Christmas.” He sighed as he turned his attention to the next gift, a light gray package just waiting for him to open it. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, he still found his body reacting instinctively to the incredible aroma and flavor of the blueberry muffins Derpy had packed for him. One or two of the muffins seemed to sizzle with electric energy that he assumed was a garnish of some sort in Pegasus culture. His stomach certainly seemed drawn to it. “You know, Derpy should really try opening a bakery. Her muffins would probably take the world by storm.”

“I mean, I'm not sure the world’s ready for that,” Grif said.

“If the world isn’t ready, then how come we are?” Pensword asked.

“It’s a joke, Pensword,” Grif sighed.

Moonshade chuckled. “Now this is humor I understand.”

“All right, next gift. Based on the fancy font and embossed edging, I’m going to assume this one is from Rarity,” Pensword said as he eyed the card. When he opened the box, a full military dress uniform greeted him, complete with epaulets and wing holes. “It’s perfect,” he gasped.

“Now you won’t need to wear your armor all the time,” Moonshade agreed with a smile.

“Yeah, you don’t need armor all the time… Just perhaps a weapon, or two, or three, just in case.” Hammer Strike chuckled lightly.

“And a knife in the boot,” Grif added.

Pensword chuckled. “That, too,” he agreed. “Though that does raise a point. We may need to see about arming Moonshade with some better weapons. If we’re always well armed, then she should be, too.”

“You’re not exactly the most armed right now,” Moonshade pointed out.

“We’re in Hammer Strike’s room. Do you really think someone would be stupid enough to try to attack him?” Pensword countered.

“... Good point,” Moonshade admitted. “But what about the rest of you?”

Hammer Strike pulled open his coat to reveal the two swords at his hip, which for some reason didn’t stand out, and a small handle of a knife in one of the inside pockets. “Better safe than sorry,” he said simply. “Better safe than sorry.”

Grif took one of his oranges and spun it gently in his talon as he placed a claw against it, then slowly brought it downwards. The skin peeled off the flesh of its own accord. “I have knives growing out of my hands.”

Moonshade nodded. “And this is another reason why I like you three.”

“I guess it’s time for my gift?” Shawn questioned.

Moonshade smiled and nodded. “It would appear so, milord.” Then she winked.

Hammer Strike stood up from his seat and walked over to one of the back tables in the room that had a wooden case. With a click, he popped open the locks and opened the case. “Pensword, I spent my time thinking on this gift. Something that I feel you might use, but in certain ways.” He pulled an object out of the container but kept it hidden from sight as he stood still. “For how things have become, how they will be, and where you are now, you are missing something.” He turned to reveal a straight sword. The blade had been cleaned and polished to a brilliant gleam. The handguard was made from what looked like gold, but with a darker tint to it. The familiar swirls of damascus style steel swam elegantly over the blade’s surface. The pommel was made out of the same material as the guard to pull the piece together in its entirety. “Pensword, there is something that your rank needs. Something to show it,” Hammer Strike said as he walked toward Pensword.

Pensword’s eyes locked onto the gift, and he froze in place, unable to form the words as the stallion approached.

“I’ll skip over some standard procedure.” Hammer Strike gave a faint chuckle. “Though we have faced trials before, I have the feeling we will find ourselves dealing with more and more with each coming day. So, to give you what I can, I name you Captain of House Strike.” He grinned and flipped the blade for Pensword to grab.

Pensword gaped at Hammer Strike, then pointed to himself. “Me?” he asked in utter disbelief.

Hammer Strike nodded.

Pensword reached with trembling hooves to claim the gift. “I’ll do my best to live up to the responsibility,” he promised. “Though I do have one question.”

“And that would be?”

“I see the case, and I see the blade, but … where’s the sheath?”

“In a slot underneath where the blade goes within the case.” Hammer Strike gestured towards the case.

Pensword smirked then and raised the weapon in a flamboyant swish. “Then you have my sword!”

“As good as that line would be,” Grif chuckled. “Not as good when we’ve all got swords.”

“Could have gone with your gun,” Hammer Strike offered with a smirk.

“Then round it out with a cannon?” Pensword ventured.

“That would have been a very different adventure,” Grif laughed.

“Indeed,” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“So, who’s going to help me strap this on?” Pensword asked.

“I’ll do it,” Moonshade said, even as she approached him. It didn’t take long for the belt to be fitted on and adjusted along Pensword’s torso to put the blade in easy access. The hilt tapped against Pensword’s foreleg, but only when he drew it back far enough. It would take some getting used to, but he would still be able to navigate reasonably.

“Well? How do I look?” Pensword asked of his friends.

“Prepared,” Hammer Strike remarked with a faint chuckle.

Pensword smiled. “I suppose I’ll need to add swordsmanship to my training regimen now, too.” Next, he reached for a small pouch that jingled when he hefted it between clenched teeth. He dropped it on one hoof and presented it to Moonshade. “I’m … not sure if this would be something you want or not, really, but … back on Earth, many humans take great pride in collecting unique forms of currency. I’d never seen these kinds of bits before we were sent back in time, so I thought they might interest you. I … hope that’s okay.”

She looked inside the bag as silvery glints of light flickered over her face from within the cloth folds. Then she looked up and fixed Pensword with a broad smile. “These are amazing! Thank you!”

“Um, you’re welcome,” Pensword said in a somewhat bewildered tone. “I … didn’t think you’d be this excited, admittedly.”

“There’s not a lot that survived with both Celestia and Luna's face on it,” she explained.

“Really?” Pensword asked in surprise. “What prompted the change?”

Moonshade gave him a level look.

“I meant more for Princess Celestia’s,” Pensword clarified. “I … think I can guess for Princess Luna.”

“I suppose the princess simply thought it was fair to remove both.”

Pensword smiled. “Well, I’m glad it was able to make you happy. The gift, I mean, not the … well, you know.” A hint of a blush rose in his cheeks through the fur.

“It means a lot that you thought of me. Thank you.” She gave him a light nuzzle.

“Well,” Pensword cleared his throat as the blush deepened. “You are a very important friend, after all.”

“Uh, Hammer Strike, need to discuss some modifications with you in my room?” Grif said.

Hammer Strike gave a nod in return. “Let’s see what you need,” ,e remarked, following Grif into the next room over.

“I … guess we’ll see about starting to clean up, then?” Pensword asked.

“That makes sense,” Moonshade agreed, and the moment was past.

Grif led Hammer Strike to their room and carefully closed the door. “Okay, so we need to get those two together.”

“They do seem to have some interest in each other,” Hammer Strike conceded. “But I feel like pushing things may not be the best option.”

“I mean, you know him. If we leave it, the apocalypse will come before he makes a move.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “I suppose that’s fair. Though, having both of us pushing would definitely not be a good idea, so I’ll leave that in your hands.”

“If that's what you think is best.” Grif shrugged.

“I’ve never been good at this sort of stuff. I’ve been told I don’t pick up on hints.”

“Very well.” Grif nodded.

“In any case, we should delay a bit longer, since modifications aren’t exactly quick,” Hammer Strike remarked before adding, “for most.”

Grif nodded. “Let's hope things go easily from here.”

“They probably won’t, but I’m sure we’ll manage it.”

“Yeah.” Grif nodded.

When the pair returned to Pensword’s room, the Pegasus had already stored or otherwise shifted his loot either beneath his bed or on one of the small desks. Meanwhile, Moonshade had carefully stored the bag of coins away among her few other possessions.

“We left your gifts there for you,” Penword offered gently.

“Thanks,” Grif said.

“Appreciate it.” Hammer Strike nodded. “In any case, after this, I’m going to bed. I’ve already been up for a few days working on everything, and I can use some rest.”

“Do you need one of us to knock you out?”

“No, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine so long as someone doesn’t wake me up.” He dismissed the idea.

“Worst case scenario, I suppose we could ask if Me-Me or Mutatio if they know some ways to help later,” Pensword said. “If you ever need it, I mean.”

“I’m sure I’ll figure something out if it comes down to it,” Hammer Strike dismissed. “Until then though, I’ll just grab my stuff and head to bed for now. Good night, everyone.”

Pensword nodded. “Sleep well.”

“You too, my friend,” Grif said as he swept his gifts up and followed Hammer Strike out.

“And then there were two,” Pensword said with a tired sigh. “Talk about an eventful day, huh?”

“Very much so.” She nodded.

“Um, … thanks again for being there for me,” he said with a blush. “The three of us have come a long way because of you.”

“I’m just doing my duty.” She smirked.

“That looks like the kind of smirk people use when they’re planning to take a cocky character down a notch.”

“You have a weird viewpoint on things,” she laughed.

“Well, yeah. That is what we’re here for, isn’t it? Helping to build up a new armed force that’s better than the guard right now with our ‘weird viewpoints’?”

“Weird isn’t always bad,” she noted.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Pensword replied with his own laugh.

“Are you planning to mate? Should we go find other accommodations?” Mutatio asked quite suddenly.

From somewhere in the inn, the sound of a record scratching suddenly carried through the air and into the room. Pensword turned to stare at the Changeling with wide eyes. “Wh-wha…?”

Moonshade promptly facehoofed and shook her head.

“I … see I have made a mistake,” Mutatio said slowly as he literally read the room with his senses. “It seems we still have much to learn.”

“Yes,” Moonshade agreed, still shaking her head. “Much.”





Moonshade patrolled the corridors and hallways with her ever-present slow and careful pace. As she walked the long familiar route, she passed another Thestral whom she paid no mind to. She turned around and passed the Thestral again and they slowly matched pace with her step for step. Again, Moonshade paid no mind. It wasn’t until her third pass along the route that the Thestral stepped into her view, their form suddenly shifting to become an entirely different being as the figure of Luna slowly took shape.

“Ah, Major, I am here for your report,” the Princess of the Night commented.

“Right, ma’am. Of course,” she said. “Should have realized this was a dream. Currently, things are going well. I’m aware of the situation and am doing my best to assist the three in accomplishing what they need.” She looked unsure. “How goes the research into allowing Pensword to return to his human form?”

“Slowly,” Luna admitted sadly. “We currently lack anything powerful enough to heal as instantaneously as would be required for him to become human again at this time. And the technology to keep him alive while attempting any sort of repair or regeneration is also not available.”

“I understand.” Moonshade’s voice hitched a little. “Well then, I do hope you’ll manage to stagger the flow of new recruits at this time. It would be advisable to hold off until we breach the Everfree.”

“We had already decided to step things down until the holidays are over at least,” Luna assured with a nod.

“Understood, Your Highness.” The Thestral bowed her head. “Good news is that things are going well. The former trouble recruits have begun to show progress in being added into the fold. Currently, several companies have been set up, and the extra work is aiding the local civilian population, allowing for better good will.”

“Very good,” Luna said. “Are you still clear to move on in the spring?”

“We will be, Chieftess. The equipment will be sorted and packed when spring comes. The fort will be turned over to Ponyville when the paperwork is ready, and we will be arranging to keep it garrisoned.” Even in her dream corridor, she was constantly turning her head toward where Pensword was sleeping. Luna noticed the tick and decided to address it.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I am getting used to silence when I had gotten used to hearing the sounds of his breath and clicking of his valves. And now, a normal heart rhythm. What is good is he is not crying in his sleep this time.”

“You realize we may be unable to restore his true form while he is on Equis, yes?” Luna asked.

“I am. And I admit the idea concerns me.” She sighed. “I have always admired Pensword, and now to see him as he is, it is unusual, not something I was prepared for,” she admitted.

“You know,” Luna chuckled, “I once met Lunar Fang.”

For the first time all night, Moonshade missed a step. “You—so he does get married. That means  that some of that cross species barrier that I heard Shawn speak about once will slowly fade?” she asked, unsure of how to feel at the moment.

“Spoilers.” Luna chuckled again. “Just rest assured that not everything is as cut and dry as you think. Things will be clear with time. For now, let things advance naturally.”

“Of course, Princess Luna.” Moonshade saluted. “Also, thank you for the weekly check-in. I think the group is going to enjoy taming the forest, from what I have seen of the humans and Pensword’s own actions. They seem almost conditioned to tame the wild and cultivate it to their whims…. Humans, the entire idea of them looking at the Everfree forest and think, next challenge please. One of them is even taming a Timber Wolf pup.”

“Well, unfortunately, I have many more duties to attend to. Look to your left, and it’s time to wake up, Major,” Luna said as the world around them melted away.

Major Moonshade blinked and looked to the left, as instructed, and the dream melted away as Moonshade woke up to find herself resting on the mattress that had been her bed since arriving in Ponyville. A quick look showed that Pensword was gone. A blanket laid over her body, and a note had been left by her pillow.

I took Second watch. You need to not push yourself so much, going so long for Hearth’s Warming. Now keep your promise and sleep.

Pensword

She stared at the message before she remembered the words from Luna, and so she turned her head to the left. Sitting at the major’s left was a fairly large box wrapped in crescent moon wrapping paper. Moonshade carefully unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a scroll and a foot-long serrated dagger. The entire thing was cast in blue metal, and a Thestral eye was engraved on the center of the cross hilt. The scroll unfurled to read:

Dear Major,

This dagger was based on the dagger that belonged to Lunar Fang. Something tells me you may be needing it very soon.

HRH Princess Luna of Equestria.

With care, Moonshade attached the dagger to her weapon harness to display it proudly before she got up to leave the room.

The door opened to reveal a familiar set of wary eyes and the glint of wing blades as they retracted slowly against his sides. “Moonshade?” he asked.

“Good morning, Pensword,” Moonshade greeted.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping still? I thought you said that potion of yours can knock you out for days. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Moonshade assured. “I’m not going to miss these days.”

“Out of rest or out of sheer stubbornness?” Pensword asked with a smirk.

“Don’t underestimate me, human,” she said as she returned the smirk.

Pensword chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Thestral.” He gestured floridly with a wing, not even missing a beat at the banter. “And might I escort the Major to the mess hall for some well-earned breakfast?”

“You may, indeed.” She smiled as they began their descent.

“And Moonshade?”

“Yes, Pensword?”

“Thanks for that. It’s good to be reminded of that part of me, even if I can’t change back right now. Matthew makes a large part of Pensword, after all.”

As the two finished their descent, they were surprised to see the familiar shining golden armor of two fully fledged Unicorn solar guards gleaming from their place of inquiry at Berry’s counter. The expressions were the schooled bleakness that all professional guards were expected to employ while on duty.

“Is Princess Celestia visiting today?” Pensword asked as he stared at the guards.

“Not to my knowledge?” Moonshade shrugged.

“Then why are there guards here we definitely haven’t seen before? Are we dealing with more imposters?”

“I’m not sure. Best be ready, just in case.”

Pensword nodded. “So, which one do you want to take if we have to fight?”

“The one on my side.”

“All right, then. Let’s see what our strangers are up to.”

The two approached the counter together. “Good morning, Berry,” Pensword greeted warmly. “Are these some new guests?”

“I was just telling them we don’t have room for any new guests,” Berry said testily. “These colts don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

“You need to leave,” Moon Shade stated firmly.

The guards eyed the Thestral carefully and made note of the armor she wore, then looked to Pensword. “Judging by your appearance, you must be Major Moonshade,” the one on the left said. “We didn’t expect to meet you until we reached the barracks.”

“Due to the temporary nature of the barracks and lack of officers quarters, I have been stationed here. Who are you?”

The Unicorn removed an envelope from inside his breastplate. “Apologies for the brusque demeanor before. We’ve been transferred here alongside two Earth Pony guards on Princess Celestia’s orders to join your cadre as trainers and temporary magical protectors for Lords Shawn and Hammer Strike. Our primary mission, however, is to assist with teaching magical theory in combat application to recruits, inasmuch as we are able. You’ll find the details there.” He nodded, then offered a salute. “Permission to speak frankly, Major?”

“Speak,” she said, taking the letter.

“Her Highness is playing games. While it’s true you need magic instructors to aid the Unicorns in your care in their development, there was a … certain matter we were tasked with bringing to your lord’s attention instead of having the individual in question arrive himself. In the princess’ words, ‘I’ve given them enough of a headache to deal with for now. I’m not about to escalate it.’”

“I’ll get his attention then,” she said.

“If the lord is still asleep, we would rather not disturb him.” He pulled a scroll from his breastplate this time. “Is there a regent or some representative to whom we might deliver this instead?”

“What exactly is going on here?” Grif asked as he glided down the stairs with Sylvio panting happily on his back.

“New transfers from the capital to help with magic training,” Pensword said. “And apparently, they have a letter from someone there, too? Addressed to Hammer Strike.”

“Well, let me see.” Grif held out his hands and took it before either Unicorn could object and began to read.

To the most honorable Lord Hammer Strike, Lord of the Everfree, Wielder of Master Smithing, Legend of the Empty House, and Friend to Blueblood,

You can imagine our surprise when we learned that the legend who fought beside the founder of our bloodline in the Third Gryphon War had reappeared miraculously in Equestria once again. It is our desire to renew that tie and forge new ones in this generation with the current descendants of your old friend.

As such, House Blueblood extends its invitation to you to visit Blueblood Manor, so that we may better know you and that we might better acquaint you to some of the changes that you missed in your absence while protecting Equestria and The Crystal Empire from King Sombra.

While you are here, we can also discuss the series of unfortunate events that led to your current predicament regarding the large staff that have recently been assigned to you by Princess Celestia herself. I am loath to go against her wishes, but from the gossip I’ve heard around Canterlot, you are not one who relishes the idea of a full staff attending to you. As such, it is possible we may be able to come to some mutual accommodations to benefit us both.

It is not wise for one to be without trustworthy guards. And I can vouch for the steadfastness of Blast and Tower Shield. You will find them competent and loyal to their duty to Equestria. I will not ask for their return in our negotiations as an act of good faith. For me to request such a thing would be foolhardy, considering the dangers that you and your allies will face going against the Everfree Forest. However, the remainder of the staff you have received is another matter entirely. As such, I propose a discussion about just how much staff you require for your needs. Those you do not wish to remain can be returned to House Blueblood with proper pay and benefits appropriate for their station and talents.

This will be the optimal solution to both of our problems. And while you are here, we will be able to offer you insight and counsel regarding which noble families may prove trustworthy and which are … less than desirable to associate with.

As is customary from your time, you may bring the head of your house guard with you, should you have one appointed in this modern day, along with your mercenary friend. Our records indicate that it was rare for you two to separate, save for when fulfilling your duties in the Third Gryphon War. Should you desire to bring any other guests, you have our permission to do so. We will simply require a list of names so that we can make the proper arrangements for your arrival. I wait with baited breath for your reply.

As a final word of advice for the modern age, please note that a letter not returned promptly can be taken as an insult in our circles, and often is. I am not one to jump to such hasty conclusions, of course, but it does bear keeping in mind if you wish to maintain positive relations with other heads of state, infrastructure, trade, etc.

Thank you for your hasty reply. I wish you good fortune in your efforts to tame the wild lands of the Everfree. May we both find success in our endeavors.

Yours Sincerely,

Prince Blueblood, Lord of Upper Canterlot Caverns Royal Hot Springs, Keeper of the Royal Keys to the Observatory Peak, Honorary Lieutenant in the Expedition Forces, Living heir to the Principality of Hoofington, Honorary Mayor of Potsdam, Owner of the Sea….

“The last third of the page lists literally every title he has,” Grif said as he examined it in utter flabbergastation. “He even put in Spelling Bee Champion of the Sixth Grade.”

“... What is this guy, the embodiment of the Ego Core or something?” Pensword asked. “I mean, I know he’s supposed to be spoiled, but I didn’t know it went to this degree.” He sighed. “Why couldn’t they just keep it simple, like military ranking?”

“Pass me a quill, ink, and paper,” Grif ordered. When he had them, he began to write.

Dear Prince Blueblood XXXI, Lord of Upper Canterlot Caverns Royal Hot Springs, Keeper of the Royal Keys to the Observatory Peak, Blah, Blah, Etcetera, you're not that impressive.

My Lord Hammer Strike, Lord of Everfree, Master Smith, Wielder of the Giant Slayer, Wielder of the Night Cleaver, He Who Works His Craft Tirelessly, Hero of the Third Gryphon War, Guardian of the Poor and Distraught, Master of Metals, Lord of the Smiths’ Guild, Wielder of the Sacred Hammer, Forger of the Unforgeable, Enemy of Chrysalis, Enemy of Sombra, Friend of Cave Trolls, Bane of Windigos, Friend of Star Swirl, and sometimes referred to as Lord Hammer Strike the Insanely Awesome, wishes me to respond to your letter, as he is indisposed and frankly really doesn't give a damn.

It is unsightly and altogether rude for someone of your station to address my lord in the fashion in which you have chosen. You send your missive with the mask of politeness only to hide demands and unnecessary veiled threats, and it is neither appreciated nor something my lord will condone. You brandish the name of your ancestor as though his actions determine your own worth, which in and of itself goes against the spirit of Lord Hammer Strike’s house and creed. He will not meet with you and wishes you not to contact him again. The servants have acted according to their will, and he will handle them as he sees fit.

And since I know you can’t seem to listen to orders, let alone fathom the very idea of respecting another’s wishes, allow me to repeat myself.

Do not contact us again.

Have a nice day,

Sir Grif, Gryphon Who Doesn’t Need Titles Because People Actually Respect Him.

Moonshade blinked after reading over the missive. “Well, that will buy us a week,” she snorted. “Turns out you three fight on paper as well as you do on the battlefield.”

Pensword couldn’t help but grin. “Nice touch. Sometimes, a hammer is the best tool to use if you want to break a funhouse mirror. Though I can’t help but wonder what will come next if this escalates. A yo mamma fight, perhaps, refereed by the princesses? These nobles do seem to put a great deal of import on their lineages.”

“That would be a sight to see.” Moonshade smirked, showing her fangs.

“With the material we have from Earth, I guarantee that Grif could slaughter him verbally almost as easily as he could skin him physically.”

“Though Pensword still reigns over the world of puns,” Grif said. Then he shuddered. “Some of them are so bad, they’re actually good.”

Pensword winced, then put on his best cheesy British accent he could manage. “I got better….”

“Okay, I’ll give you points for the reference,” Grif said.

“I can try a few more impressions if that’ll help,” Pensword said with a smirk.

Moonshade looked at the pony she admired and shook her head. “The history books never said anything about how silly you were,”she said, doing her best to hide a grin.

“Major, one of the most important things you learn in life when it’s constantly in danger of being ended is that you need to look for the bright side of things, especially with humor.”

“Welp, time to go mail this,” Grif said, getting up.

“You mean after you finish the second draft, right?” Pensword asked, still smiling.

“If it ain’t broke,” Grif said, giving a casual wave to his friend as he strode to the door and left.

Pensword’s eyes widened in shock, and he flapped into the air. “Oh, sweet Celestia,” he swore, then zipped at perhaps one of the fastest speeds he had ever managed on record. “Grif, wait!”

The two Unicorns stared at one another, then at Moonshade. “Are they … always like this, Ma’am?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she chuckled.