Chapters Us griffins are known as great warriors, flying machines of death, bringing all the weapons of the ancient eagles and great cats to bear. Fortunately, this reputation, and not our political bickering, precedes us.
For months, I led scouting missions over the south marches, the mountain passes, and the plains that stretched south beyond them. I watched the ponies trudge on day after day, scanning the skies; sleeping in shifts, farm tools and daggers by their sides.
They were scared.
Scared, and for good reason: in their state, the griffin army could have rained from the skies and killed the lot of them, without need for a second strike. They were on the move, and the death of their crops had left them without food for the journey. They were separated by race, giving us aerial superiority over the earth ponies, strength over the unicorns, and numbers over the peagsi. Strength is in numbers and variety of attack, but only Hurricane was a military leader among them, and in her anger at the other tribes, she disregarded sound strategy in favor of pride.
They could not have been more vulnerable. The classic vision of prey on migration.
Apparently, they were lucky. They had their three tribes, we had thirteen. And, as non-cooperative as they were, we were worse.
--<(0)>--
“The representative from the Jirgin tribe has a proposal?”
“Yes, your excellency,” boomed the sword-carrying griffin, “the Jirgin have mustered our forces, and are ready to launch an attack. As our tribe is very small, we require reinforcement from the Uduyid and Temujin if we are to be successful…”
“The Temujin will never fly with the Uduyid again!” A starved-looking old bird stood from his place, and extended a claw in accusation, “Those filthy half-breeds have no place in battle! They will flee as soon as sun hits steel!”
“Sit down, you old cat! Not flying into a death-trap in Pegasopolis isn’t cowardice. Your charging in regardless was a disgrace to military strategy!”
“The Tuva demand that an assault be delayed until the border crisis with the Bajigt is resolved.”
“That can wait. Us and the Tas are even putting our land dispute aside until this is finished.”
“As the Tas ambassador, I have heard nothing of this. We will continue to withhold military support from the Bajigt until they withdraw from our territory.”
“It isn’t your territory; we’ve held it from the Pegasi for sixteen years since you abandoned it!”
“Is the Ursud ambassador present? He has been named as the intermediary for the land dispute between the Tuva, Tas, and the Bajigt.”
“The Ursud refuse to send an ambassador until relief is sent for the flooding of their grazing grounds.”
“The Uduyid, Jirgin, and Bayad are negotiating relief efforts presently, he should be present.”
“If you all decide to stop bickering,” I shouted, “My tribe the Oriat and the Ongud have been flying recon, and are ready to strike as soon as we get a couple tribes of backup. We need to take out the Pegasi first, and we are also too small to take them alone.”
“It sounds like the Jirgin are prepared”
“We, the Temujin, and the Uduyid are brothers,” the booming voice stated, uneasily, “The Jirgin will only fly if our brothers are present. Years of less-than-pleasant relations have made us… wary of working alone with a tribe of another family.”
“When you pull your head out of your rear, you know where to find us.” I turned tail and walked from the council chamber.
“See? That sort of hostility is what I spoke of.”
“She was just being a bit curt, Galve.”
“If our brothers will fly with us, we will discuss flying with the foresters.”
Ugh. The sooner I got out of earshot of that drivel, the better.
One day, three months ago, my squad sat on the southernmost peak of the crystal mountains, newly sprinkled with that death-omen, snow, and watched the last of the ponies, the unicorns' rearguard, trudge over the horizon. Not one raid, not one casualty, not one scratch among them dealt by the mighty griffin army. My youngest, son…
My remaining son…
My youngest son sat by my side, our shared scowling said more than words; we now could never gain revenge on the beasts that brought this winter. The eternal winter that claimed his brothers’ lives.
Three months ago, perched on that mountaintop, I could barely believe our leaders had let our golden opportunity go to waste. The heat in my chest burned, even through the new frost, but its’ parent emotion, rage, burrned all the more. On that day, I no longer cared about the cold, or my revenge, or the dying glory of my race. I no longer cared that the ponies were the ones who brought my calamity. On that day, I realized that the blame lay with the bickering, navel-gazing idiots who refused to seize the remedies to our plights, staving them off in favor of their personal pride and clan agendas. On that day, I realized that it was them whom I could hate righteously.
It was on that day that I abandoned my flock, forever.
My country wasn’t always like this. Today, flying across the steppes isn’t…
Well, it isn’t that anymore.
Thirty years ago, these plains were baked golden-brown by the high noon sun. My mother’s tribe wandered north near the glaciated seas in the warm season, and as far south as the Crystal Mountains in the cool, following the seasonal grasses that sustained their cattle; Islands of life-giving vegetation in a fruitless scrubland.
I haven’t been north to the sea in over a decade, but now even the summers at the feet of the mountains haven’t let me forget the cold; the high sun hanging low in the sky begets little warmth.
Today, the flight across the steppe is a flight across a tundra, a wasteland, a frigid pit that claimed the lives of my herd and my clansmen, and took my sons from me.
“What news from the east, Guile?”
“Ugh.” My eyes rolled up dramatically. As if they didn't know.
“There's this thing we like to call procedure, and it's there so that everybody is on the same page when we make rulings,” Jude scolded, “If you intend to stay on this council, I suggest you follow it, and kill the sarcasm.”
“Yes, your ancientness.”
He scowled, despite his own warnings.
“Cold.”
Silence.
After a few seconds, someone inquired; “Was that a smart comment, or an answer?”
“Both.”
Exasperated glances shot about the room, punctuated by a soft but firm “details?”
“The ponies are moving south. They apparently don't feel like dying of starvation is worth sticking around this pit for. All three tribes are separated, and judging by past experience, only the Pegasus’ commander seems mildly useful militarily. I wouldn’t extend any of them the status of 'competent'. If we're going to take out Puddinghead’s or Platinum’s tribes, we should move as soon as they get to the south marches. Hurricaine may warrant a bit of finesse, but as I said; mildly useful, not competent. Still, they should be the first target, as they are the only ones who might break ranks and aid another tribe.
“Finally, something proceeding from your mouth has a bit of value,” Jude said, “You may be seated.”
“Also, it is still cold. Colder than last week, colder than last month, and than last year. I think I’ve spotted a trend.”
“Sit down.”
In the frigid morning following the ponies' escape, I took off from the mountainside of my clan's camp for the last time. The day was young enough that the sun had barely crested the mountains, the air was still heavy with the nighttime cold, and all but one of my clan were asleep.
The one who was not, was my son.
--<(0)>--
"They'll call you a gilder."
"I know."
"You'll be dead to them."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"And I won't be coming with you."
My heart skipped a beat, and felt as if it would drop from my chest entirely.
"I knew you weren't going to ask directly. I figured I could just get it out in the open now."
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry. I know why you are doing it, but my life is here, Jade is here, and I have political prospects. I'm the next in line for ambassador, and then who knows? I can fix the system that helped kill my brother..."
"No, you can't."
"Just because you couldn't doesn't mean it can't happen."
Silence.
"Look, I get why you're leaving. I won't sound an alarm or anything. The longer we sit here, the harder it's going to be."
"You're right."
"Goodbye, mother."
"I'll see you on the other side."
--<(0)>--
I swear, it was just the wind that made my eyes water.
A guilder, one who forsook the life of the warrior for the gold-plated but hollow life of another land and species. Usually, drakes. Sometimes, dragons.
But drakes or dragons wouldn't put me in a place to find out why. What happened to bring the winter that made my life fall apart.
For me, it would be pegasi.
That day, the flight across the steppe was a flight across a tundra, a wasteland, a frigid pit...
A pit that could never be my home again.