Its been seven years, three months, thirty-eight days, and thirteen hours since the first mortars hit our city center. Since then more rubble stands than actual buildings. I am currently writing in the journal in the remains of the basement beneath one of the half destroyed buildings that once housed more than rubble and ash. The gryphons have continued their search for the last few rebels that lurk in the darkness. They seem to know of our plans a meagre rebellion that has been in the works for a month now. I am one of the few messengers that is tasked with delivering the coded letters to the leaders of the resistance. Tonight is the one of the most dangerous treks I have been assigned.
“Shy!” a whispered shout called from the darkness around her. Shy closed her journal and held up the candle beside her. “It’s nearly time.” An old stallion walked out of the shadows and helped fasten her saddlebag around her back. “Do you remember your mission?”
“Take the message to Kindle and return with his reply,” Shy said systematically.
“And if you get captured?”
“Set the message on fire and take the pill.”
“And if you can’t burn the message?” the stallion asked.
“Set them on fire.”
“Good, now you should encounter a few gryphons. Use as much stealth as you can to evade them. We don’t want to lose this message like our last messenger did. If, however, you do have a run in with a gryphon, well... Try to stay unnoticed.”
Shy nodded, her imagination already beginning to plot out the situations as they came to her. Get to the bunker. Avoid all gryphons. Kill those otherwise. Got it. “When do I leave?”
“As soon as the patrols finish with this area, which should be right about...” He glanced towards the old clock that ticked endlessly on the wall. “Now. OK, you have a 30 second window to get across the street.”
“Got it.” Shy raced up the steps and out into the hallway of the old apartment building, or what was left of it. She peered out of the door to make sure the coast was clear before bolting across the old cobblestone road that had once served as the primary street of commerce.
She had a nearly supernatural talent for silent sprints, her hooves making almost no noise as she galloped into the shadows of the ruined buildings across the street. Stopping, she looked around, her ears twisting in every direction, listening for any sign that she had been spotted. As usual, the coast was clear. Her small frame and dark coloring made her appear more like a shadow in the night than a threat.
Satisfied that she had remained incognito, she set off again through the labyrinthine network of rubble strewn alleyways. She had run this route so often she almost run it blindfolded, but there was always something strangely nerve racking about its menacing atmosphere. It was always dark, always destroyed, always filled with pestilence, it was hellish.
Two gryphons up ahead. She thought to herself, mentally telling herself to drift into the shadows. The two enemies stood in the middle of a cramped alleyway, a single lamp illuminating them. There was no way she could slip by them on the ground. She looked upwards to the cable that was strung across the alleyway, leading to a broken window, suspending several lights along its path. It will have to do. She thought as she carefully climbed up the side of the defect ridden wall to the line.
Gingerly, she stepped onto the wire testing its strength. It held her weight. Shy took a deep breath. She had tried tightrope walking once before, and ended up with a broken rib. Hopefully this would not end similarly. Slowly she put her full weight onto the wire, ever wary of the fact that the old rusting cable could snap at any moment.
As soon as her last foot left the wall she was climbing, her balance all but deserted her. Her legs began to wobble in fright as she stumbled across the wires, keeping her balance by propping herself against the wall as she scooted along the cable.
After a few harrowing seconds of almost falling onto the guards she reached the window and threw herself inside.
“You!” a harsh voice shouted from the darkness, startling Shy to her hooves. “What is your business here?”
“Not yours,” Shy muttered as she withdrew the dagger from her belt and prepared to jump the assailant.
“You’re gonna regret that.” The gryphon lept from the shadows, but shy had the element of surprise. She dropped herself to the ground onto her back. As the gryphon sailed over her she thrust the sharp blade into the gryphon’s chest. He took a sharp breath before falling to the ground in a heap of feathers and blood. He tried to stand again, but Shy threw herself at him again, ferociously thrusting the blade into the body of the gryphon again and again. Drops of blood flew through the air as they slid off of the blade from its violent repetitive motion.
“I regret nothing,” Shy whispered as she rose to her hooves and dropped the blade to the ground. The entire engagement had taken only a few seconds, but those few seconds were precious to the delivery of the message.
As she wiped the blood off of the blade and began to slide it back into its sheath, Shy heard voices coming up the from behind the door. Looking out the window, she saw that the two gryphons who had been outside were gone. They must have heard the fight and come to investigate. Quickly, she jumped out of the window she had just came through, not taking heed to the fact that the only thing that could catch her was a small cable. She realised this as she saw the cable fly past her head as she fell.
She landed with a loud crack, hooves almost splintering as they hit the hard stone pavement. Pain shot through her legs, but she ignored it and began to trot off towards her destination, her gait plagued with a slight limp. She followed the path through the dark alleyways, hearing the distant screeches of gryphons behind her as they tried to find the killer of their comrade.
She rounded a corner and froze. There before her was a squadron of gryphons that filled the small alleyway. They saw her, their eyes piercing her very soul. She deftly reached into her bag and pulled on the small cord that hung out of the side. The cord was connected to a piece of metal that raced along a long strip of flint. The sparks ignited the piles of lint in her saddlebag, catching fire almost immediately.
“Seize her!” The gryphon shouted as he watched the bag begin to smoke. Shy quickly unhooked the saddlebag from her body and hurled it at the group. Upon contact the bag tore open, covering the gryphon in flaming pieces of fabric and paper. He let out an ungodly scream as the fire quickly alighted in his feathers. The rest of the group raced toward her. In the distraction she placed the capsule that hung around her neck in her mouth, ready to bite down onto it at a moment’s notice. She withdrew her knife again. The blade slid out easily, still slightly slick with blood of the gryphon she had fought earlier.
Shy, with blade in hoof and a route of escape pinned between her teeth, stood steadfast as the guards approached her. She watched and waited, her heart pounding out the drum to which her actions would be preformed. The first gryphon reached her. She dove underneath him, grabbing his leg as she passed. He came down with a bone jarring thud. The other two raced past her, flaring their wings as they attemtpted to save their friend from the menace. They could not. Shy was on him in an instant, bathing her blade once more with the blood of a gryphon’s neck. By the time they had begun toward her again, there were only two in the fight. The tides were turning.
The second guard leapt toward her, but she deftly evaded him by rocketing toward the wall and launching herself into the third. The maneuver was mistimed, causing her weapon to fly out of her grip and onto the grime covered ground. She scrambled to her hooves and tried to get back to her blade, but she tripped. The third guard had grabbed onto her tail and began to pull her back toward him, a vicious looking blade in his other claw and an unholy look in his eye. She rolled onto her back and prepared to land a skull crushing kick onto the gryphon’s head, but that pleasure never came.
The second guard, the one she had neatly missed, was now standing right above her. His weapon, a feral looking pike, poised right over her chest. Shy watched as the world seemed to slow to a crawl around her. The pike began to move, ever so slowly, toward her stomach, its menacing point being driven by a regular of the Gryphon Army. Shy, looked into the eyes of her assailant with her own look of satisfaction. She knew that the world would move on without her, and so would the rebellion. In one last act of defiance, one last insulting gesture toward the army, she took the one last thing she had. She would not allow this pathetic excuse for a warrior to have the satisfaction of killing her. With one final breath she bit down onto the pill.
