The Great Gryphon Adventure

Another day had taken its toll on the soldier. Jacob had searched in vain for his friend, even going so far as to back track to where they first met. From there his mind was lost in thought as he went further into the forest. His jogging pace slowed to a fast walk. Eventually it became a simple stroll. He had no idea where to go or why he was still walking. All he knew was that he was lost in a world he did not belong in.

It had not taken him long to figure out that the innocence of this world did not forgive the actions of one used to decisions from another. His straight-forward decision to meet those ponies from Gilda's past did not include the consequences that would befall her. It did not calculate that this world did not operate on the same level of logic as his own did. Nothing but the beast he had killed with his rifle resembled anything he could frame as familiar.

The sun slowly drifted down the sky. The soldier still walked on.

It was a freak accident that he came here. A happenstance of the universe that caused him to save Gilda from certain doom. There was no purpose behind it, no plan for his arrival here. There was no certain future for him in this world. All he knew was that everything leading up to this point had only meant something, only had purpose with Gilda. For some reason, every thought about a purpose always came full circle back to him saving her.

He had decided that the only true purpose for his arrival here, however circumstantial and without cause, was saving her life. Jacob surely did not plan to meet her. To have such a sudden deep connection with her over the course of merely a few hours. To break through his past's seclusion from social and emotional interaction to open up to her. Everything, from the point of looking in her gaze after he saved her to the point when she stared at him with the most horrible part of sadness when she left him, all came back to her.

His legs grew tired. The moon started to rise and stars started to appear. The dirt path becoming nothing more than an unrecognizable stretch of trees and grass. Still the soldier walked on.

What were these feelings that were so foreign to him? He searched his mind and soul and found the answer. The death of his wife had caused every bit of purpose in life to be washed from him. His only instinct was to continue to serve in the military. He trained new recruits without a sense of cause. He went home every night to a depressing and empty bedroom. Every meal was eaten alone. Every aspect of his being was torn down into a pathetic shell of nothingness.

His only son couldn't even reach him in that state. The day he announced he would join the Confederate Marine Corps, Jacob just nodded blankly. From that day forward the last chain to the outside world was broken. His son moved on in life, forgetting his father's very existence and going on to claim others who easily took his place as mentors and guides. The last wall against sanity and hell was broken. His life turned into complete dismay and he lost his home, living from there on at the base and allowing he military to fill the dark voids in his life with its simplistic routines.

Quiet sobs could be heard from the soldier. His walking slowed. The moon was higher in the sky and his muscles were starting to rebel against his will to continue on. His gear was becoming heavy.

The day he was sent on the training assignment he had come to a decision. He gave in his retirement request to his superior officer, who tried to talk him out of it. His mind was made, so it was to accepted and to take effect after the assignment was over. He imagined what he would do after the routine training. He would pack his things and retreat to a hotel room. There he would kill himself. Take his own life and end his purposeless existence.

Every thought had changed that moment he was taken away from that horrible world. When he saved Gilda, when he saw that in her he could find purpose again. Somehow he sensed she was in the same situation as he. Doomed to a life of nothing. Desiring only to end it. He had seen the change in her eyes. He felt that feeling, that foreign feeling, rise again within his very being. That sense of purpose, that feeling that his life was worth living again. It was her that gifted him that, however brief it was. It was her that had prevented him from taking his own life.

Finally the soldier's body could take no more. He fell to his knees, the quiet sobs turning into loud cries of anguish. Tears streamed down his face, his vision blurred by the revelation that his only salvation was gone. His only purpose, the only thing left keeping him in the land of the living, having run away. In that moment Jacob knew he couldn't go back to living like a shell. He couldn't allow his existence to taint this world, his renewed misery and defeat to tarnish its innocence. He would end it now. Save this world. Save its inhabitants from ever discovering the hell he was going through.

Through his sobs he managed to find a new purpose. The last bit of strength he could muster through his tortured body manifested as he stood and slid off his backpack from his shoulders. He heard it thud to the ground, feeling lighter. He continued by stripping off the pounds of protective armor and gear. Each thudded to the ground with equal effect. Eventually he had stripped down to his shirt and undershorts. He felt the night air flow across his sweating skin. He felt the light of the moon touch his skin, soothing his sobs and allowing him some sort of peace.

Slowly he went to his knees and grabbed his handgun from its holster. He continued to breathe calmly, his sobs by now subsiding to quiet tears. He slid the chamber, cocking the gun. Slowly he brought the end of the barrel to the side of his head. He looked up to the moon, a sudden anger rising in his being.

"Fuck you for doing this to me!" he screamed at the top of his lungs at the moon, at the stars, at the gods above. "Fuck you all!"

He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The last thought that went through his mind was that of Gilda. How she had given him hope. But that was all gone now. Now, as his lifeless body thudded to the ground, he was at peace. Slowly his mind halted all thinking. Slowly his vision decayed to black. Eventually his body would go cold.

The moon shone brighter than before. A single star flickered brightly. The others had finally taken note of the soldier's plight.

• • •

The starting beat of drums woke him from his slumber. A flute played, continuing with the drums again. He recognized this rhythm. It was the anthem of the Confederate Military. He could hear hundreds of voices around him, thousands even, starting to hum proudly to its beat and sequence. He slowly opened his eyes and to his disbelief he was standing in what seemed like a large forum. Around him he noted many soldiers, both men and women, lined along its rows and standing proudly. Each had some sort of weapon familiar to him.

The rhythm of drums finally came to the height of the beginning of the anthem, the thousands present softly beginning the words almost like a church choir. All together they sang.

Southern Soldiers the Thunders Mutter!

Jacob was in disbelief. From left to right he could make out the various stages and evolution of the military uniforms. It began with the rag-tag uniforms that served under Oscar Vladinchi during his wars of Unification. Their weapons were a mix of Warsaw and NATO variations.

Foreign Flags in South winds flutter!

They progressed to the uniforms of the First Army of the Confederacy. More professional and modern-looking. The weapons had become formalized into the standard NATO variations that now encompassed the Confederate Military.

To Arms! To Arms! To arms, in Dixie!

Nearing the end he recognized the uniforms as the standard outfits that were worn in his day. They had the proper gear, weapons, packs and helmets. Each one represented every grade of the military. From the Military Police to the Coast Guard.

Send them back your fierce defiance!

He suddenly realized he was surrounded by the heroes whom had at some point or another saved the very existence of Anagonia. They numbered in the thousands, each one playing a key role at some point in the history of the nation. Each one sacrificing everything so others could live.

Stamp upon the cursed foreign alliance!

Then he noticed an empty spot at the very end of the row. He knew in his heart that this was his place among these champions. It had been prepared for him the very moment he was born. But there was something wrong. Instead of him joining in with this magnificent symphony of gentle voices and drum strikes, he was trapped in the center of a circular stand. Around him was constructed a witness stand of sorts, just like in modern courts. He started to fear.

To Arms! To Arms! To arms, in Dixie

The entire room changed. He was now standing on the battlefield of a foreign country. He heard gunshots all around. Yet still the chorus of voices continued. His actions were not his own as he ran forward and leapt into a trench. Standing up he watched as his body fired his M-16 at a far-off foe. The ground shook and a loud BOOM resounded beside him. An M1 Abrams had fired a fierce volley that, as he saw, destroyed an opposing T-72 tank. He cheered briefly, not of his own will, and witnessed the surroundings change again.

Fear no danger! Shun no Labor!

Once again the world reformed. Once again he was on a battlefield. This time he was prone and firing off rounds into a forest. Enemy troops were surrounding them by the dozens. Behind him the continued sound of a loud THUMP resounded as the Bushwacker cannon of a M2A3 Bradley fired to protect the troops against the enemy soldiers. The world shifted again.

Lift up rifle, pike, and sabre!

This time he watched as he looked at the ground below from the side of a helicopter. He knew it instinctively to be a Blackhawk. The side-mounted machine gun was his weapon as he fired down below at enemy positions. The world shifted again.

To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie!

Shoulder pressing close to shoulder!

He stood at his wedding with his wife. Kissing her to complete the sacred vows to Melkos Unchanos, each side of the family joined in the celebrations. It was in the outdoors and the party took off as per custom. He saw the happiest days of his life pass with her in the blink of an eye. The world shifted again.

Let the odds make each heart bolder!

To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie!

He watched as he stood on the deck of a transport ship as an Iowa class Battleship unleashed its furious roar of cannons at the shore ahead. Each explosion was precise and through that, he felt courage lift the fear that had clouded his purpose. Several F-35 Joint Strike Fighters flew overhead and bombed enemy positions, making the way all but certain for victory. The world shifted again. The chorus grew somber in tone.

Swear upon your country's altar

He was kneeling beside his wife's deathbed. He felt himself sobbing as he held her head and she gazed sweetly into his eyes. Oh God... what was this?!

Never to submit or falter,

To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie!

She asked him to promise that he would continue on no matter what. That her memory would be a happy one. To promise to find someone else and give a good life for their son. He could feel himself sobbing now.

'Til the spoilers are defeated,

He nodded, holding her hand with both of his and promising. He promised he would do that, to make sure their son would be happy, to move on and always remember her happily. At the time he could only feel sadness, but now he understood what she meant.

'Til Melkos' work is completed!

He cried out in agony as the memory ended with her death. He was on his knees and shedding tears so deep that no physical manifestation could satisfy their release. He remembered now, everything. Everything he had worked for. Why he fought. What he had promised in the end of the happiest years of his life.

To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie!

The chorus and music ended. He looked up. The stand around him was gone and he simply stood in the center of the souls around him. They all stared at him, into him. Their gazes told Jacob they expected something of him, something better than what he had chosen for his end. He felt pathetic, worthless, unworthy in their presence. He lifted his hands up and cried to the only thing he could call upon.

"Forgive me for what I have done, Melkos!" he cried in despair. "I forgive you! I want to be worthy! Give me another chance!"

He fell to his face in uncontrollable sobs. His soul crying in the place of his physical form. He felt everything change around him. His soul went to ease and he rose from his groveling position. On his knees still he looked up, opening his eyes. His breath was ragged as he saw him. The god of his fathers and father's fathers. The god of his brothers and sisters. The god who was not a god, but now stood before him as a man.

A hand was reached down to him, Jacob taking it. With a gentle pull from the man, he stood. Both hands from the man gently touched his shoulders, as if a father were admiring the achievements from his sons life. "I thank you for your forgiveness of me," the man said as clear as day. "All I have done was to bring you to a better stage in life, but this was undone so suddenly." The man shook his head, "No, for as I already forgive you, I cannot blame you for your decision. Know that what has been undone shall be restored, but I require one thing on your part."

Jacob wanted to sob again. He felt whole. Every ounce of despair, of negative emotion was banished the moment he heard the words of forgiveness from the man. He nodded slowly. "Anything, my Lord."

A smile crossed the mans lips, amused by the piety. One day he would expose how ungodly he truly was. Until then, he would simply be as they wished. He said, "All I require of you is to trust me. What happened by chance in you meeting Gilda is now full of purpose. Know her feelings of you, know that she trusts you just as you trust I. Know that through you she shall find the peace she desires."

Jacob nodded. "Thank you, Lord Melkos."

The man smiled again, but this time slapped Jacob across the face while saying, "Wake up!"

"Ow!" exclaimed Jacob at the sharp pain to the side of his face. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

Another slap, this time the mans voice replaced by Gilda's. "Wake up, you idiot!"

The entire scene vanished as life returned to his once dormant body.

• • •

Gilda was about to slap Jacob a final time. She had tried not to use her claws, but this time she would. As she raised her foreclaw up to do the necessary deed, Jacobs hand reached up and caught it mid-strike. His strength astounded Gilda as she simply stared dumbly into his eyes as they shot open. Jacob looked back, then noted as his eyes drifted that she was over him. Her body close to his in a very suggestive fashion. He gazed back into her eyes and smiled, "I'm awake, you idiot," he said.

Instantly Gilda was rocked by tears and she wrapped her arms around Jacob, lifting him from his laying position as she stood upright and hugged him tight. "You're such an asshole, you know that! You scared me! I thought I lost you!"

Jacob gasped for breath, patting her wing hard to get her attention. She looked at him then dropped him, shying away back on all fours as she cleared her throat. "Uh... sorry."

He gasped for breath. "I'm glad to see you too!" He coughed, leaning over to catch his breath and finally standing straight. "Christ, do you have a bear hug."

"Yea, well, that's what you get for dying on me." The griffon chuckled, then looked around him at all his gear and the puddle of blood that he had been laying in earlier. "I thought you had killed yourself," she said looking back up to him.

"I did," he stated to her dismay. She was about to ask why but was cut off. His response made her beak drop open in shock and embarrassment. "I came back for you," he said smiling.

She shook her head, making a cartoonish sound as she did so. She blinked several times before fluttering her wings and looking around for any distractions to try to get away from this very intense moment. She found none, instead looking back up to him almost as shy as Fluttershy would to a stranger. "Thanks," was all she could manage to say.

Jacob went to one knee and gently leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. As he did so Gilda's entire body went stiff, as if struck by a dumb spell, then she fell over in a very comedic fashion. Jacob laughed and stood, starting to gather his gear. "Come on, lovebug, we got work to do."

It took her a moment to fight past the butterflies in her stomach. She failed, head spinning as her eyes went to both corners and turned counter-clockwise in a Derpy Hooves fashion. "Oh, we do?" she said, her voice lighter than normal. "I thought, I dunno, we could just make out or something, you know." She giggled fiercely, rolling over. Then she remembered her talk with Melkos and finally registered Jacob's statement about work being done. Her eyes returned to normal and she stood proudly.

Jacob had placed most of his gear and outfit back on by this time, half amused by her childish display and half concentrated on the odd fact that everything he had worn before smelled fresh and new. He stood, placing his backpack on and his weapon strap across his shoulder. "I think it's time we go back and face a few demons of your past and finish your own resolution."

Gilda looked down, not feeling the fear from before. After what she experienced she knew she could do it. She felt in her heart that the solution to the quest she had been given would be revealed back in Ponyville. She knew it. The first step was ending her past once and for all. That included anyone's past feelings of her. She looked back at Jacob and nodded. "Okay."