Old Paths, New Directions

Chapters

Sandmare
Lightning Strike
The Past
The Future
Gilda: An Honest Opinion? (Original draft)

Sandmare

“What do you know about ponies?"

It was the question that had been haunting the young griffon's mind and dreams ever since she had a falling out with her best – and only – pony friend. It was the whole reason she was even in Equestria in the first place.

A small talon shot into the air. “Yes, Gilda?”

“I know!”

“And just WHY do you know so much about PONIES? You don't need to hang with those lame-brains now that I'M around! Unless, of course, you want to eat them.”

The dream flowed from one place to the next, neither coherent nor indecipherable.

“Wha – N-no, it's not like that!”

“Exactly, now, make like a bee, and fly away home. Gimme a call when you're done being a dweeb.”

Time holds no bounds in the dreamscape.

“Damn, am I glad to be done with that exam. Ugh, I can't believe I once actually liked those foul creatures.”

“Heh heh. You sure were lame back then. Just stick with us griffons and everything will be smooth sailings.”

“Oh, I ain't goin' anywhere other than on an awesome summer vacation.”

“Unfortunately the only place I'm going is straight to after-school detention. I'll catch you later, G.”

“Ja.”

Even the best-laid plans can fall astray.

“WHAT IN TARTARUS IS THIS!!!”

“A report card.”

“And what is the highest grade!”

“Uh, A-plus?”

“Yes, A-plus. A-PLUS ON THE FREAKING PONY TEST!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!!”

The flow turned into a torrent, with no rhyme nor reason.

“Why don't you make like a bee and BUZZ OFF!”

“We're sending you to a flight camp in Equestria for the summer.”

“You think they're gonna let you back in after that?”

“We can’t house you if you keep acting out like this!”

“You're dorking up the skies, Stinkie Pie.”

“Fine! It wasn’t my choice, anyway.”

“These Ponies are driving me buggy, I gotta bail.”

“If being ‘cool’ is all you care about, then why don't you go and find some new cool friends someplace else.”

“NOT. COOL.”

“ENOUGH!”

At that command, everything ceased to exist.

The dream suddenly became very lucid for Gilda. An ethereal dome had formed overhead, the deep purple of her subconscious swirling ominously outside. With disturbing clarity, she cast her gaze on the Sandmare descending into the dreamscape. Touching down, the alicorn spoke.

“Fear not, fair Equestrian.”

Gilda shuddered involuntarily – she knew all about the Sandmare and the reputation that preceded her. After all, the dreamscape was used as a recruitment device during the Lunar Rebellion. Any fear felt by the griffon, however, was quickly replaced by indignation.

“I am not an Equestrian!” Gilda barked, drawing herself onto her hind legs to meet the Princess's height.

“Not by species, no,” Luna responded calmly.

Gilda grabbed the sides of her head. “Gah, why are you even here? Don't you know how very bad this is for you!”

Luna ignored the outburst from the enraged griffon, her attention focused on an image she had conjured of Gilda roaring at Fluttershy. “Hm, I'm sure your personality has been very bad for many ponies,” she commented, a hoof placed under her chin.

A quick swipe of talons ended that particular vision. Gilda growled a low, predatory rumble as her tail lashed about behind her.

“Not your greatest achievement, I'm sure.” Luna waved the torn image away, replacing it with another, this one showing Gilda knocking an earth pony-pedaled contraption out of the sky. The griffon noticed a veritable train of different misdeeds waiting in the wings to replace that one should she choose to swat it away.

“Get out of my head!” Gilda howled in frustration. The swirling mass that was her subconscious began bubbling furiously. “Look, Princess Luna, you seriously don't know how dangerous this is for you! No, for Equestria! You could start a war!”

Luna stopped, as though she was considering the implications. “I guess we don't want that on our conscience, now do we.”

“Yeah, I bet we don't,” the griffon snorted and glowered at the larger alicorn. “Now piss off!”

For the first time since she arrived, Luna looked directly at Gilda. Down and through. Gilda managed to repress a shudder at that piercing stare, though her tail was not wholly successful. Luna opened her mouth to say something further, only to be cut off by a faint noise. She turned away from Gilda again, her ears perked, seeking the sound. It was a faint ringing; distant, not unlike a loud noise in a city that you eventually just get used to.

“Well, it seems like forces beyond our control will pull us apart,” Luna said as she began to fade from view.

“HEY! Get back here, dweeb! I'm not through with you yet!”

“The waking world calls you, griffon. Don't keep her waiting.”

“SANDMARE!” Gilda screamed out the griffon deity's name before realizing that she was sitting up in her bed.

Taking a minute to catch her breath, the griffon cast her golden gaze to the offensive alarm sitting atop the nightstand. She swung a fist at the clock but stopped short. Extending a talon, she gently pressed the off button, restoring the bedroom to silence. The clock was not Luna, and the bits it would cost her to replace it were not quite worth the momentary satisfaction smashing it to pieces would bring. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to the still darkness, Gilda tried to calm herself. Her waking world surrounded her with ponies, she didn’t need them in her sleep, too.

Having finally composed herself enough to start the day, Gilda got on all fours and began her routine griffon morning maintenance. She arched her back in a feline fashion while stretching out her still curled up avian talons as far as they could go, nearly touching the bed with her beak. Holding that position, Gilda stretched one rear leg out at a time, feeling a rough purr work its way up from her chest to her throat.

After getting the kinks out of her back and limbs, she set about her next order of maintenance. Plopping back down onto the bed, she flicked on the bedside light and unfurled her massive wings to appraise the damage.

Ugh, I just preened these things last night. I must have been tossing in my sleep. I can't believe I let that lame-flank Princess crawl into my dreams.

That’s when the full implications of Luna’s intrusion finally hit the sleep-addled griffon, turning her purr into a low growl. “Oh no… the treaty!”

Unlike in Equestria, griffon society more clearly remembered Nightmare Moon and the Lunar Rebellion's recruitment of ponies and griffons alike through the power of dreams. After Princess Luna's return and The Longest Night, the griffon military had gone from peacetime to its maximum readiness for the first time in almost a century. The Gryphus-Equestria Pact, the world’s longest-standing peace treaty, almost came to an end in the process.

Seeking a diplomatic solution, Celestia invited a delegation from Gryphus to discuss Luna's return. And after weeks of bitter negotiations, both sides reached an agreement, part of which forbade Luna from dream-walking outside Equestria and specifically from dream-walking through any of Gryphus' citizens, embassy workers, or diplomats living within.

What had just happened was a clear treaty violation and a diplomatic mess, no question about it. A few years back she would have jumped at the opportunity to ‘stick it’ to Equestrian royalty, practically cawing it from the rooftops. These days though, she had to question if it would be worth the effort. There would be questions – uncomfortable questions – about what Luna saw within Gilda’s dreams. Given how… trivial it all seemed, she began to wonder if the Embassy would even act on it.

Why was she even in my head, anyway? I’m a lowly carrier pigeon, I’m not even somegriff important.

Not wanting that sour thought rolling around her head any longer, Gilda dipped her beak into her left wing and began smoothing out the feathers, adding in a talon to speed up the process. As a Royal Gryphus Messenger, she had been drilled by her superiors in the importance of a quick and efficient delivery between Gryphus and the remaining embassies scattered around Equestria. The inside joke of messengers was “The post is always late.” Unfortunately for the government of Gryphus, somegriff from way back in the annals of time took off with this phrase and said, “The post is always late, so don't worry.” From that day forward, messengers had been jokingly using it as an excuse to take it easy and see the sights. Sadly, this novelty was lost on Gilda.

Finished with the once-over of her wings, she killed the light and hopped off the bed onto the cloud floor. The digitized number 4:40 glared back in an accusing red, the only light now in the room. The letters “FRI” were displayed in smaller text in the bottom right, but with no less venom.

“Waking world, my ass. The sun ain't even up yet!”

Fridays were not the messenger's favorite due to the long haul flight that would take up her entire day. The flight would span from Cloudsdale all the way to the Gryphus main Embassy in Manehatten, then to the castle's front gate in Canterlot, then back to Cloudsdale just in time for sunset and for a zombified griffon to crawl back into bed. Gilda's weekly Manehatten to Canterlot journey – not counting the extra miles to and from Cloudsdale – was one of the longest flights for Royal Gryphus. It was second only to the trans-ocean route to Gryphus, which was about twice the length on a round trip. That it was her last route before a weekend off was its only saving grace.

Gilda made her way into the living area of her small cloud home. Like most cloud homes, this one was designed with a large living area in the center, the rooms arrayed in a semicircular fashion around the perimeter. Flipping on a light switch revealed the living area and its attached kitchen. She sauntered over to the small bathroom, pausing along the way to scowl at her study. The study, unlike the rest of the bluish-white cloudstruction, had walls lined with bookshelves and a green carpet to give a more cozy feel. The desk was littered with writing utensils and loose papers. Those papers were the subject of her early-morning hostility.

My pony research, the only reason I’m still even in Equestria.

In her early teens, Gilda had found herself unwillingly enrolled in the Young Ambassador’s exchange program. The program’s intent was to foster better relations between two superpowers, ponies and griffons, by transplanting participants in opposite countries to better understand the differing societies. Her unintentional academic aptitude in matters Equestrian had allowed her wealthy parents to get her a last-minute slot. That silly little program for politically motivated families had given her the means to remain in the country with her best friend and even got her a job at the Embassy when it was over, in the hopes of them spending more time together.

Fat lot of good that’s done, she concluded with a chuff.

Gilda turned back, continuing to the bathroom. Certainly no time for that now. After emerging a few minutes later with the crust out her eyes, the bald eagle-griffon headed for her kitchen to fix a small breakfast. No sense in fully boiling the water for coffee when she wouldn’t have time for it to cool down again after. Instant dissolved in lukewarm worked just fine and served to mask the taste of the stale biscuit it washed down. She tried to take her mind off both by studying the map that was magnetized to her fridge, going over the route she had already flown dozens of times. After finishing the biscuit and swallowing the last dregs of coffee, she set the mug on the table and grabbed her black leather jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. Slotting her wings through the allotted holes with practiced ease, Gilda then slipped her forelimbs into the sleeves.

Standing on her hind legs, she got her brown letter satchel with the Gryphus Crest stitched to its side and threw the strap over her head and onto her right shoulder, the bag under the left arm. While fiddling with the strap to make sure it wouldn't interfere with the action of her wings, she went to the fridge and got her mid-flight meal; a lemon-flavored sports drink and a plastic-wrapped veggie sub that she had added a thick fillet of cooked fish to the night before. Both were stuffed into the bottom of the satchel. She took a final glance at the clock and found herself ready to go to work. Her time schedule was very precise; wake at 4:30, out the door by 5:00; in Manehatten by noon Eastern Equestrian Time, and to Canterlot by 5:00 PM Central.

The other days of the week that didn’t have her delivering for Royal Gryphus were taken up with her second job; ferrying around packages for a courier company locally. Her official messenger job paid for room and board – barely – but a simple food check wasn’t enough for her plan. There were no Embassy prohibitions against taking work on the side, and with the combined income of the extra jobs, Gilda’s hope was to one day have enough money to emigrate back to Gryphus on her own in a final act of defiance against those who sent her away. There was nothing left in Equestria for her now anyway.

Turning out the last of the lights, Gilda opened the front door and entered the lamp-lit street. No question that summer was coming to an end, she reflected as her breath turned to mist in the cool morning air. The fog on her bare feet caused a brief shiver to race through her and out the tips of her tail and wings. She could just see the first twinges of purplish light in the eastern sky. Being diurnal predators, griffon eyes were specifically attuned for daylight hours, with emphasis on distant viewing and color distinction. As a result, it was uncommon for griffons to fly at night under anything less than a full moon.

“Perfect, right on schedule.”

On the back of the mail satchel was a secondary strap. Gilda stretched out her wings and wrapped the strap around her body, securing the bag in place. She then checked her pockets for her house keys and the hard case of her aviators, not wanting to burn her retinas out on another beautiful sunrise – or lock herself outside. Again. Finding her sunglasses where they belonged and locking the front door, she went out into the middle of the street.

Unlike her ex-friend Rainbow Dash, Gilda followed the rules and scanned the skies and roadway for ponies before taking off. It was legal for pegasi to take off directly from the street during nighttime and other low traffic hours. Any other time they would have to use one of the many launchpad pavilions scattered around the city. It was Rainbow Dash's unconscious disregard of the rules and other ponies which quickly made her, and by extension Gilda, very... popular with the local authorities. That was one of the factors that ultimately forced the former to leave the clouds for the land-town of Ponyville.

I stopped you doing that after you got caught and the judge sentenced us both to community service for three months!

She vividly remembered one such instance, the last instance, in which Rainbow Dash was caught recklessly flying for the umpteenth time. By mere association, Gilda was pegged with a trumped-up ‘public endangerment’ charge, for knowingly letting her friend fly with a record. That debacle and the subsequent sentence of community service almost ended her fresh research position with the Gryphus Consulate and her friendship with the pegasus.

Gilda didn't try to fight the scowl on her beak. If Rainbow Dash had been caught again, she would have been slapped with a felony, crushing any hope of a prestigious position in the Wonderbolts. So Gilda was spurned into action, not comprehending that those actions would lead to an ultimate separation. She sighed softly. I kept you grounded, then you left for Lameville like that Butterfly pony. Musta' thought I was smothering you, keeping you from your dreams; slowing you down.

She shook the memory out of her head and oriented herself to face down the street. The lamps that lined either side were used as makeshift guideposts for her takeoff run. She started walking a slow pace down the street, then sped up to a pace known in Equestria as a 'trot'. The griffon shivered at the prospect of trotting like a pony. Luckily for her, the street was generally empty at this hour, because – Celestia forbid – if anypony saw the tough as nails griffon trot...

They might get the wrong idea and think I have a creepy fetish or somethin'.

Without losing any momentum, Gilda fell into a crouch and coiled the muscles in her back legs. With an almighty thrust, Cloudsdale was shoved downwards as she fell into the sky. Large brown wings began to work with the air, each powerful stroke bringing her higher above the city. Other pegasi were just starting to fill the Cloudsdale airspace, with most of them heading to the weather factory for work.

Gilda had done that herself, for a short stint. After Junior Speedsters, she found herself abandoned in an alien country as an involuntary Young Ambassador. Her shocked and fragile mental state, coupled with her resentment over being forced into the whole situation, led to her almost constantly clashing with her surrogate family. Matters got so bad, they ended up filing a petition to send the griffon back, unless she could clean up her act.

But as much as she may have hated Equestria just then, worse things awaited back home – condescending parents who believed anything less than perfect was failure, and frienemies that were just itching for Gilda to come crawling back into their fold.

In desperation, she sought out the only pony she thought could help. But all-powerful solar princesses don’t care for the plights of hapless griffons stranded within their kingdoms. The response she received from the palace was a mere forum letter filled with meaningless platitudes, nothing actually useful. With nowhere else to turn, she wrote to her new best friend to ask for advice. After hearing her plight, though, Rainbow Dash did her one better and offered her own family as replacement surrogates.

That solved the immediate problem of tolerable hosting but didn’t cure all the griffon’s ills. She was still dealing with the fallout from back home and her family there. Again it was Dash and her family that came to Gilda’s rescue. Spectrum, Rainbow's father, was a senior plant manager at the factory. When he saw her lapsing into depression firsthoof, he had arranged for her to get a job at the Weather Factory. Part of the Young Ambassador Program entailed participants learning various trades and professions exclusive to the respective nations.

At first, she fiercely objected to the whole thing. They’d already done too much for her in her eyes, and she refused out of stubborn pride. She wanted to fly on her own wings, find her own way. Eventually, though, she came to the conclusion that she shouldn’t view the offer as further charity, but as a rightful way to earn her keep. Simply being a good employee was worth its weight in gold to the elder pegasus. Only then did she take Spectrum up on his offer. True to her word, Gilda became the best employee she could be, even earning the respect of her more senior co-workers. The job, plus hanging out with Dash after work occupied enough of Gilda's time to keep her out of spiteful despondency.

Sadly, it was something that wouldn't last long.

While enrolled in the exchange program, her position at the factory was protected. But after a year or so, the program came to an end. Spectrum did his best to save Gilda’s job, but about the only thing that could be done was to give her a new, temporary position. She was a placeholder until somepony more qualified was found for the job. And at the start of the next hiring period, Spectrum had to make a painful cut to his staff. Gilda would be terminated and replaced by somepony with a special talent. She could have asked him to petition against her termination, but at the end of the day, it’s very hard to argue with a Cutie Mark.

After gaining enough altitude, Gilda banked away from Cloudsdale and headed due east. But one abandoned cloud structure always captured her eyes whenever she came out this way. The old Cloudsdale branch of the Gryphus Consulate hung off the east end of the cloud city like a barnacle that refused to fall. A symbol of tyranny or hope – depending on who you talked to – the building used to be vibrant and full of life. Its expansive upper-tier landing decks had always been her first stop when she’d started this job a little over three years ago. Now, just over a year after it had been shuttered and most of her colleagues shuffled off to Canterlot or one of the remaining coastal embassies, the building had faded from a pristine icy white to a monotonous grey. For Gilda, it was a sign of the times, a symbol of frayed relations between griffon and pony.

It was also a reminder of something more dire. After finishing the program, she faced the prospect of returning to her parents in Gryphus. She could picture the scene; a hero’s welcome, some kind of gala, a dull affair where Gilda – the centerpiece – would have been perfectly preened and groomed. She would then have to wander around for hours with a fake smile, talking to various dignitaries and laughing at their lame attempts at humor. Topping it all would be the praise she would be showered with about the mature choices she made representing her country.

Rather than take that route – and also because Rainbow Dash was her best friend in the whole world – Gilda desperately sought out some other means by which she could remain in Equestria. As luck would have it, the Embassy had a diplomatic researcher position that had been vacant for some time. Suddenly, the qualifications that got her stranded in Equestria in the first place were what allowed her to stay. The job even afforded her the use of a small Embassy owned house, the rent of which was taken directly out of her pay. What that left over was pretty lousy – and one of the likely reasons that the position had been unfilled for so long – but it allowed Gilda true freedom for the first time in her life. No more would she have to worry about the plans her parents had for her upon her return to Gryphus. No more would she have to feel guilty (and uncomfortable) about sleeping on the sofa bed in the small spare room at Dash’s.

But research work was dull as dishwater and Gilda wasn’t a bird to be caged indoors like that. She needed to fly!

Even that far back, there were signs of the diplomatic mission in Cloudsdale winding down. Gilda was again fortuitous enough to make a lateral move within the Embassy, going from clerk to messenger, to help with the increasing offload of cable traffic and eventually assist in shuttling materials out to the remaining embassies. The pay was better and included hazard pay for having to deal with stormy weather, allowing her to start saving up little by little for her return. The research position was never officially terminated, it was just given even less attention than before.

But with the Embassy long since closed, all that was most likely over. Everygiff else was off in Vanhoover, Manehatten or Canterlot now. She’d managed to hold on for quite a while, but it was only a matter of time before the officials came for her house and her. From what she’d heard from her coworkers, Gryphus wasn’t being as generous with housing in those other cities. She had no idea where she’d end up then.

With Cloudsdale quickly receding, the griffon did a very routine navigational check. To the south were the foothills of the Unicorn Range; in the southeast was snow-capped Mount Equus, the orange sunrise lighting it up like a torch; behind was Cloudsdale. Stretching out below and to the north was the breadbasket of Equestria, nothing but rolling farmland as far as the griffon eye could see.

Directly ahead, though, was the blinding radiance of Celestia's newly risen sun, bringing pain to Gilda’s eyes. Not wasting another second, she pulled out her shades and sighed in relief as they cut the glare.

As the sun trudged further into the sky, Gilda focused on flying as efficiently as possible, riding the thermal updrafts up to the level of various jet streams. They were the roadways of Equestria’s skies and she used them to their fullest potential. After doing this for a few hours, she reached the Crystal River crossing. Just ahead was where the Vanhoover-Manehatten line turned toward the latter city after dog-legging northeast out of Canterlot. This was also another navigation point for Gilda, all she had to do was follow the tracks. Looking around once more, she could faintly make out the mist of Neighagra Falls to the far north, and the Foal Mountains in the south. A puff of steam in the east caught her attention.

The steam came from a train trundling down the tracks, heading due west. Even from her position a few thousand feet up, Gilda could still make out the train in good detail as it passed under. Being a creature of the sky, the griffon felt some misplaced pity for the ponies that needed to travel by ground-based means. They would never know the thrill and joy of soaring through the clouds. The sharp whistle, though dulled by the altitude, hit her ears. Being careful to not lose her sunglasses, Gilda glanced down to see one of the ponies operating the train lean out the window with his hat off, waving. Without much thought, the griffon rocked her wings in the traditional pegasi salute, her “cool” image forgotten for the moment. The pony apparently saw this because he put his conductor hat back on and retreated into his cab, blowing the train’s whistle again in shrill acknowledgment.

The neutral look on Gilda's face darkened to a small frown at this.

“Ugh, I'm acting more like a dweeb every day,” she muttered.

She was spared anymore thought by the tearing winds of sudden turbulence pulling her around the sky. After the brief shock and stabilizing her flight, Gilda focused again on her wings and powered through the wind shear. Several altitude adjustments later, the griffon found a smooth spot in the air. She was now flying over the low mountains where the rail line dove into a tunnel. Beyond were the outer boroughs of Manehatten. After passing over the hills, she began her descent towards the island. From below the white-headed flyer all the way to the ocean was the outer borough of New Yoke City. And, connected to the mainland via the aptly named Manehatten Bridge, was the city of dreams.

It disgusted Gilda to no end.

Lightning Strike

New Yoke was one of the first settlements founded by the Three Tribes as they descended out of the northeast into the new land of Equestria. After settling in the area, the representatives of each tribe voted to make the town the Equestrian capitol. But something quite peculiar was living on the island in the bay already; griffons, the descendants of exiles from across the sea. Even though it was rocky at the beginning, the two species eventually warmed up and formed an alliance that lasted for some time.

Until the Griffon War.

One day, out of the blue, a massive flotilla of Gryphus warships dropped their anchors in Manehatten Bay and invaded the island. Their intention was to use the island as a staging point for the upcoming war with Equestria. The native griffons, under the threat of execution, were forcibly conscripted into the invasion force. There was, however, a provision; a reprieve. Any conscript that went to war – and survived – would get a free ticket back to Gryphus and land to settle. It was a promise that Gryphus kept even in the face of their total defeat at the hooves of the Equestrians. The remaining native griffons departed the island en mass, bequeathing it to those they had so shamefully betrayed.

New Yoke had remained the capital from its inception up until shortly after the war and the coming of the Celestials, when the capital was moved inland to Canterlot for safety in the future. After that, land developers began looking at the now-unpopulated island fortress and saw a great place for a repurposed dockyard and naval base. This was the first iteration of modern Manehatten. Its current form, however, was by far the most ambitious.

Gilda suppressed a reflexive gag at the sight of the newest addition to Manehatten's collection of skyscrapers. Not only was the obsidian, modernist building the tallest in Equestria, but it had a gigantic horse's head being constructed on top. She looked away and banked toward a building that was only about half the height, the Gryphus Consulate. Gilda's sharp eyes picked the time off of a bank’s clock tower and saw that it was quarter to twelve. Looked like she had picked up some extra tailwinds on the way in and was a bit early. Once landed on the Embassy's top deck, the griffon settled down on all fours again and looked around for signs of life. It wasn’t a great surprise when she couldn’t find any. The post is always late, so don’t worry, after all. Settling down on her haunches, she leaned back against the railing that encircled the top deck and tried to relax. She was waiting on the pleasure of the Embassy workers now and knew from experience they wouldn’t be rushed.

Given the time to kill, Gilda decided she might as well make the most of it and have lunch. Sliding her shades up to the top of her head, the griffon fished her meal out of the bottom of the satchel, setting the items in between her outstretched legs. When she first started this job she quickly discovered that her satchel, when exposed to cold air at altitude, made an excellent cooler. Picking up and unwrapping the sub, she settled back to eat and gaze. Most of the buildings either didn't capture her interest or were just too hard to look at. Taking off a corner of her sub, she reflected that the only really appealing one out of the whole lot was the distinguished Art Deco skyscraper that had been the city’s tallest building before that position was usurped by the newer horse-headed monstrosity.

I shouldn’t be doing this, she thought. I should be going inside and finding one of the security officers. I should be telling them that I just had the Sandmare pawing through my head and they might have a security breach on their talons.

Gilda closed her eyes and thumped her head against the wall behind her, the sandwich in her stomach feeling like a brick all of a sudden. She was an Embassy employee, she had a duty to report possible espionage attempts. But on the other talon, Gilda didn’t want to be the griffon who cried windigo. She was a courier, she shuttled messages from Gryphus to the palace most days. She’d never even read them, not that she could get past the seals anyway. What possible reason would Nightmare Moon have for poking around her head, they’d ask. Is there something they should know? No. This was not something worth bringing up with her superiors. Certainly not yet. She was not going to risk being seen as the griffon who plunged her people into a needless conflict over a stupid dream about stupid mistakes with stupid ponies. She went back to her lunch, tearing off a large chunk and angrily chewing.

Once done eating, Gilda popped the top off her drink and took a swig of the sour nectar. The sound of the rooftop entrance opening caused her to hop up onto her back legs, being careful not to spill her drink in the process. It wasn’t quite the scheduled drop off time, but she wouldn’t object to being able to leave sooner than expected. One of the many Embassy workers, a small peregrine falcon griffon – whose name she didn’t care to know – made his way towards her. Any hopes of being able to leave the overdone city early were dashed when she saw his empty talons. There was no mistaking the contemptuous, open-taloned look she shot back at the bailiff.

“My apologies, ma'am, the cargo is still being printed up. I should be back with it in about fifteen... ah, here we go.”

Golden eyes followed the bailiff's gaze into the sky to see a turquoise pegasus with a flaming copper mane coming in to land. That must be her Equestrian counterpart, judging by the Celestial Crest on her saddlebags. Once the Royal Messenger touched down, Gilda was able to get a good look at her flank. Emblazoned on it was a talent mark comprised of a lightning bolt with three golden stars below it. Without an actual name to go by, Gilda simply dubbed the pony Lightning Strike. Given pony names, she didn’t figure it’d be far off. As the bailiff tended to the new arrival, the snarky griffon unknowingly slipped into her old “cool” persona. She paid little attention to the small talk between the peregrine-griffon and pegasus. Instead, Gilda began fussing over her long feather crest, making sure it was at its awesome best. Once the bailiff finished up with the pony and went back inside, Gilda began to focus on what she was saying.

“Aw, yeah!” the pony cheered. “Five hours flat! I bet I'm the fastest pegasus in Equestria! Maybe the whole planet!”

Gilda emitted an almost audible gasp at this. It was like the first day at Junior Speedsters all over again.

Celestia! She's just like her!

Her beak twitched up in its old, habitual smirk as she found herself taking a liking to this brash pegasus, but her mind stopped that notion dead.

'Why don't you go find some new, cool friends someplace else.'

Dash’s last words hit Gilda hard enough to knock the smirk off her face. The sheer… disappointment in the pony’s eyes when she said it was enough to bring tears to the griffon’s now. How long had it been since she’d heard those words? Almost two years, at least. In all that time, whenever she’d thought about it, she had never felt this bad. She reached up with the back of her talon and began to scrub the tears away. Stupid alicorn Princess getting into her dreams and stirring up old memories and feelings she had no business digging through.

‘Lightning Strike’ had made her way over to the alcove with the vending machines on the opposite side of the landing deck. Seeing that the pony was well occupied with her purchase, Gilda turned back to the Manehatten skyline and hunkered down against the railing. Her facade hadn’t completely failed, but she was doing more damage control on it than projection right then. Hopefully, this pony would just buy her food and take off without bothering her.

Hearing Lightning Strike trot away from the vending machine with her purchase in hoof caused Gilda to quickly throw her sunglasses over her eyes. Gilda was a griffon, and as a griffon, she could not let a pony see her cry. She just wanted this pony to go away, to go away and leave her in peace to pick up the scattered pieces of her shattered composure.

The hooffalls were getting louder through, precluding all chance of that.

With acting “cool” out the window, she adopted her second persona; callous indifference. Putting on a flat expression and a thousand-yard stare, she could fend off anything thrown her way. And if that failed, there was a leather jacket and aviators to back her up. Outwardly, Gilda looked like she just didn't care. Inside was a whole different matter.

Go away, go away, go away, go away, Gilda chanted in her mind to the sound of each hooffall, hoping to will away the caricature of her ex-friend. At the same time, she silently hoped that she would be rescued by a binder full of diplomatic cables that needed their ride to Canterlot. Something, anything, please!

The pony arrived at the rail and placed her front legs over the top, pretending to view the cityscape. She wasn't close enough that she’d be invading Gilda’s personal space, but she was certainly close enough that the griffon couldn’t mistake her intentions.

“Wassup.”

Gilda squeezed her beak shut and bit back an acerbic retort. This couldn’t be happening and she wanted it over as soon as possible. With an audible clack, Gilda slammed the cap onto her bottle and screwed it shut with hard twisting motions. If anything, this only enticed the pony to press the issue.

“Geez, what's got you all rattled?” The pony shifted positions, mirroring Gilda's posture. “I hope it’s not me,” she muttered.

Naw, it couldn't possibly be you, Gilda thought with a heavy snark.

“No, it’s just...” She scratched at her eye under the glasses. “The bright... buildings? Yeah, the buildings are bright.” Gilda nodded. That sounded absolutely idiotic.

The pegasus took a tone of feigned offense. “What's wrong with the buildings?”

“Hm, what's wrong with the buildings?” Gilda replied, her tongue having decided she could dig herself a little deeper than this. “Maybe it’s that griffons originally settled on this island? Then after the war, those griffons decided to give up their home to Equestria so that peace could last forever. And then the ponies honor them by putting up… that,” she concluded, throwing out a talon at the monstrosity that dominated the skyline.

The pegasus followed Gilda's outflung forelimb to the eyesore.

“Well, that's new.”

Gilda squawked a laugh at the mock surprise and naivety as her tail flicked about behind her. It’s been around here longer than you have, girl, she thought. Why the heck was she even conversing with this pony, she wondered. She needed to stop smiling. Lightning Strike, as it were, was still busy examining the horse head.

“Dang, that head is huge. I hope that's not what the owner looks like!”

Another hearty guffaw broke from Gilda’s beak. “I would hope not, because that's one ugly dude!”

After sharing a laugh, the pony extended her wing. Gilda met this with an arched eyebrow.

“Ah shoot! I was schooled about this. Here.” She extended a foreleg in the proper griffon greeting.

Gilda tentatively hovered out a talon, then very slowly wrapped her digits around the hoof. She desperately tried to cool her feelings from earlier. “Pegged you as a newbie. Nopony else is quite that… enthusiastic.”

“Fine, you got me. This is my first week on the job, they finally gave me the long run this morning.” The pony shook the talon. “Name's Lightning Dust, by the way.”

“Gilda.”

A pregnant silence befell the duo, only to be broken a second later.

“So... Gilda?”

“What?”

“Well, you're probably the first Manehattenite that's ever told me the island's deep, dark secret.”

“Who said I was from Manehatten?”

“I kinda took a guess by your accent.”

This time it was Gilda that took the offended tone. “What's wrong with my accent?”

Lightning Dust fidgeted nervously. “Um, nothing, nothing at all. It’s actually kinda nice.”

“Hold on.” Gilda held up a halting talon. “Let me get this straight. First you’re on me about the buildings? And now you’re on me about my accent?”

Lightning Dust ducked her ears and backed up a few steps. “Relax, relax! Meant no offense! Hey, uh, if I’m right, your next stop is Canterlot, isn’t it?” She clapped her hooves together, desperate to change the subject. “I happen to live there and will be heading back that way anyway, so how about we make the trip as a wing? You draft me for a bit, I draft you, makes it easier for both of us. What do you say?”

Gilda sighed and awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “Uh... sure. Whatever. Like you said, we're headed the same way so it makes sense, right?” She wanted to hate this pony, so why couldn’t she stop saying no to her?

Lightning Dust stared blankly at Gilda's forced smile, then brightened up with a smile of her own.

“Exactly.”

The sound of the rooftop doors sliding open caught the attention of the duo, bringing Gilda some much-needed relief. The same griffon from earlier made his way toward them.

“Sorry about the wait, ma'am. Here, let me load you up.”

“Yeah, about time too!” Gilda snipped, not bothering to mask her irritation.

Lightning Dust hid her snickering behind a hoof as the embassy worker filled Gilda's satchel with the missives from Gryphus. Once he had deposited the documents, the nameless griffon wished them well before disappearing back into the embassy. Gilda finished off the rest of her drink and made to throw the bottle away, but was stopped by the mare that was still giggling like a lunatic beside her.

“What the heck is so funny!” Gilda snarled.

Lightning Dust did her best to speak through her chortling. “Load you up!”

Gilda shot her a look of pure confusion at this, mouthing a silent “what?”

Lightning held up a hoof while struggling to get air into her lungs. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry! I just couldn’t resist.” The laughter began to subside as the pony looked up, incredulous. “You really don’t know what that means?”

“No, Lightning,” Gilda grumbled. “Nor do I care.”

The irritated griffon stalked away from Lightning Dust's resumed, annoying horse laugh and threw her empty bottle in a nearby recycle bin. Ignoring the aggravating pegasus, she turned and stepped out to the ledge of the landing deck. Checking one last time that her cargo was secure, Gilda spread her wings and simply fell forward off the deck. Once she caught some air, the brown flier craned her head around to see Lightning Dust gallop off the platform in some sort of flying leap before looping around and falling into position behind her.

About an hour later Gilda found herself over the forest community of Hollow Shades. She was too aggravated to appreciate the scenery, though. She didn't know if it was the extra weight slowing her down, the way the lapels and zippers of her jacket rustled in the slipstream, or the turquoise horsefly following just off her wing that refused to stop buzzing.

“So at that point I was like, what's the quickest way to clear clouds – then it hit me! I would use a tornado! So I says to my wingpony...”

Gilda hadn’t paid much attention to Lightning Dust's rambling epic about her time at flight academy. Her only concern now was getting this lame trip over with.

Off to her side, Lightning Dust continued her story unabated.

“I was in the funnel and my wingpony must have been carrying too much speed because I began losing it. I remember calling to her to try and slow it down, but then the tornado spat me out – and my wingpony shortly after. It was the worst spin-out ever, I barely recovered in time.” Lightning paused and took a shaking breath. “As I spun uncontrollably down, I saw her get ejected from the funnel – and with nopony to control it... Then for some insane reason, a hot-air balloon just happened to stray into our restricted airspace and was caught up by the tornado.”

Gilda was now paying actual attention to the mare next to her, mostly so she’d avoid getting hit by Lightning’s wildly gesticulating forelimbs as the pony reached what must be the climax of her story.

“At this point my wingpony, who I had lost sight of, shot after the occupants of the balloon. The tornado had thrown them clear but they were in freefall. I tried to join the other pegasi in the rescue attempt, but I just couldn't fly anymore. Every time I tried to lift off, my wings faltered. It reminded me of a parent biting a foal's tail to prevent them from doing something stupid.” She gave a long, drawn-out sigh before continuing. “It was like my body no longer wanted to put up with my recklessness.

“So I just stood there as the ponies fell, trying to get my wings to work. My wingpony by this time had made it below the ponies and was compacting a cloud layer to stop their fall. It must have worked because they hit the cloud and bounced up into the waiting arms of the rescuers.” Gilda saw the expression on Lightning Dust's face morph into a sad smile. “I felt so much relief to see them saved that my wings began to work and I looped in joy. I flew over to the group of ponies while coming up with some kind of explanation, but I didn't know what I was getting into. It turned out that the balloonists were friends of my wingpony and had come to visit her. If I had known this, I don't think I would have acted so horribly.”

Lightning's voice dropped to a whisper.

“That's how I got kicked out the academy. Not exactly my finest hour.”

Gilda mulled over everything about Lightning Dust's story. It seemed Lighting, much like Gilda, had used a rotten personality in her life, a trait that ultimately got them nowhere.

Almost makes me feel sorry for her. I'm still irritated by her though, but I can put up with it.

Then Lightning spoke again and ruined that thought.

“Hey, you want to hear about how yours truly became a Royal – Ack!”

Lightning Dust yelped in displeasure as Gilda aggressively flared her wings, dragging herself down to a full stop. The pegasus deftly evaded and came to a rest next to the griffon.

“What's the deal with the brake-checking, dude!” the pony shouted.

Gilda slowly took off her sunglasses and put them back in their hard case. She pocketed that and took a long, deep breath.

“Look, Lightning Strike –”

“It's Dust! Lightning Dust!”

Gilda grabbed her forehead with a talon, trying to rub away a building headache. “Fine, Lightning Dust. When you first came by me on the deck, I did what I was supposed to do and put on a friendly face for the new girl.” Lightning Dust scoffed at this. “I only agreed to be your wing because it would be awkward not to.”

“Just what are you saying?”

“I just – I don't think I'm ready for another pony friend yet.”

“Oh, a pony friend?”

Lighting couldn't see it through the feathers, but a vein was pulsing above Gilda's eye.

“Gods give me strength,” Gilda muttered. “Alright, how about this? I challenge you to a race.” She pointed a talon at herself. “If I win, you have to leave me be forever. No talking, no friendship, no nothing. If we run into each other on our routes, you pretend I don't exist, got it!”

“Hm,” Lightning stroked her muzzle with a hoof. “A race you say? And if you win, you get left alone.”

Gilda nodded an affirmative.

“You're on, but only if the loser has to become friends with the winner.”

“Fine, whatever,” Gilda agreed, just glad for the chance to finally be rid of the chatty, annoying pegasus. She pointed a yellow talon at a cloud high in the sky to the west, specifically chosen because it suited a griffon's natural climbing ability. “That cloud will be the finish line.”

Lighting Dust nodded as Gilda held three claw-tipped digits aloft.

“On three. One, two – three!”

As she expected, Lightning Dust was quicker off the launch. Gilda watched with mild amusement as she shot upward into a climb towards the cloud. The griffon instead opted to get as much speed as possible before beginning her climb. Utilizing a strong tailwind coming off of the rugged peaks of the Foal Mountains, she accelerated as quickly as her laden form would allow. Having gained enough speed, she pointed her beak skyward and quickly ascended into the heavens. Strong wings acted like giant air scoops as powerful strokes pulled the brown flier ever higher. Up above and slightly off-side was Lightning Dust, who at this point had lost all her starting momentum and was now struggling to reach the cloud. Gilda, however, had no trouble making up the altitude difference.

With the assurance of victory, Gilda punched through the cloud and touched her back legs down onto its surface. Seeing the griffon win didn't deter Lightning Dust from at least finishing the race. Gilda watched with an impish grin from her perch as the panting pegasus pulled herself onto the cloud. Despite her loss, Lightning still had a cheeky smile on her face as she looked up at the larger victor.

“I must have gotten out of shape in my downtime,” she admitted between ragged pants.

Gilda had her talons firmly placed on her hips as she regarded Dust. “Nah. I’ve just had enough experience racing pegasi to know how to beat ‘em. Which in this case I most thoroughly did.”

Lightning Dust's grin didn't falter. “Well, good for you. I may be the loser, but don’t think that’d stop me from finishing the race.”

“That’s nice.” Gilda nodded towards the wide-open sky. “You can go now.”

“I would, except I lost.”

That gave Gilda pause. What was this dense, irritating pegasus on about now? She rolled her eyes back. “Yes, you lost,” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “That means you leave me alone. This is the part where you make like a bee and buzz off.”

Lightning had a mischievous grin on her snout. Gilda didn’t much care for it and was only beginning to realize why. “It seems you forgot about the second part of our little wager.”

“Dude, I don't know what planet you’re on, but I won! And the winner gets to be left alone!”

That’s when the pegasus went in for the kill, her grin turning to an open mouth smile. “But the loser –” Lighting let the word hang “– has to become friends with the winner.” The pegasus pointed a hoof at herself for emphasis. “And I lost.”

Gilda lost the ability to work her beak, and the stonewall expression she maintained began to sag uncontrollably.

Lightning continued on. “So as your new –” Lightning gave a dramatic bow “– honorary pony friend, your wish is my command. If you want to be left alone, so be it.”

At this point, Gilda had fallen completely silent, with only one thought running through her head.

How did I fall for that?

“So, what is your command?” Lightning asked the brain dead griffon. She waved a hoof in front of Gilda's face. ”He-llo, anypony home?”

“Ugh!” Gilda swatted the hoof out of her face. “Knock it off!”

Lighting Dust continued to stare questioningly.

Gilda rolled her eyes once more and turned around. “Let's just get to Canterlot.”

“Sounds like a plan, Gil.”

“Then I'm going home!”

The Past

The sun was already nearing the horizon when Gilda and Lightning Dust rolled around the northern slope of Mount Equus. Below them, the outskirts of Canterlot panned outward – with the buildings and properties getting smaller and more congested the further south they flew. The castle, Gilda's destination, overlooked the city from its lofty perch on the mountain. Lightning pointed down towards the suburbs below.

“That's where I'm from,” she stated. “Boring, I know.”

“Uh-huh,” Gilda grunted.

“Well, I'll just let you be. Unless you need my help finding the castle, of course.”

“I can handle myself, Da- I mean Dust.”

“Cool.” Lightning turned away but veered back a second later. “Oh yeah, if we're flying like this next week, you're telling the sob story.”

“Oh har har,” Gilda emitted a sarcastic laugh. “Very funny. Don't expect an epic like your academy tale, though.”

“Fair enough.” Lightning turned away for the final time. “See you next week!”

Once Lightning Dust peeled off towards wherever her home was, Gilda made the final hop to the castle gates. She touched down in the designated landing zone and quickly padded over to the open portcullis to await Sunlit Pen, the bubbly, caramel-colored unicorn scribe that was her normal drop-off for diplomatic cables. Pen was usually quite punctual and it was a bit odd she wasn’t there to greet the griffon, but not wholly unprecedented either. Court could be an unpredictable thing at times. The guards she knew in passing at least and were given a nod as she took a seat just under the entrance archway to get out of the late-afternoon sun. She took off her glasses and put them away, hoping that Pen wouldn’t be much longer. Her day was long enough already without this kind of unexpected delay.

She looked over at the clop of approaching hooves, but instead of Sunlit Pen’s arrival, it was a unicorn guard in full armored regalia. He stopped just before her. “The Princess has requested your presence,” the guard said in a formal tone.

Gilda froze on the spot. “Come again?”

“The Princess has requested your presence,” he repeated.

The question of why hung on her open beak, only to be silenced by the pair of thumps from the other side of the archway. Two pegasus guards had just dropped from the sky and were standing placidly in the middle of the passage’s exit to Canterlot, cutting off any hope of retreat. Gilda could feel her blood run cold.

“Which Princess?” she cheeped.

“Princess Celestia.”

Gilda didn’t know whether to be relieved at that or not. A good part of her was screaming for not. While the solar diarch was generally considered more fair and compassionate than her sister, she was also well known for doing anything required to protect her kingdom and her ponies.

“Did she say why?”

“No ma'am, just that you were requested for an audience with her highness. Now please follow me.”

Gilda contemplated ripping off her satchel, throwing it at the unicorn as a distraction, and bolting past him into the palace grounds. Grypus naturally had an embassy in the pony capital and it wasn’t far from the castle. While she wasn’t as fast as she used to be, if she could get into the sky and make it into their air space, then find a consolute officer to spill her guts to about what happened the night before…

And to do that, all I need to do is get past the combat-magic wielding unicorn and outfly a pair of pegasi – a pair of the Princess’ own elite guards – all after I’ve already been in the air for almost twelve hours today. She was fast, but not that fast. Letting out a defeated sigh, Gilda pushed herself upright and turned to the unicorn, studiously ignoring the pair behind her.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

The guard nodded and turned, leading her onto the palace grounds proper. As they trotted through the grounds – well, they trotted, she strode – Gilda couldn’t help the feeling of deja vu that came over her. It had been years, many, many years since she’d last walked those paths and castle hallways. It had been just after she had entered into the Young Ambassador’s program and was first meeting all of her compatriots at a formal diplomatic function in the palace. In all honesty, she had been too pissed at the whole situation to really appreciate much of that visit.

She did remember enough to realize some of the large stained glass windows were new, though. Gilda squeezed her beak shut in a grimace and studiously focused on the floor just behind her escort, averting her gaze from the panes of recent Equestrian history that featured Rainbow Dash and all her new friends.

Her talons were making clicking noises on the marble flooring and she tried to relax them. The part of her that had screamed to cut and run in the entryway was still making its shrill presence known, urging her to find a way out and throw herself upon the mercies of the Gryphus embassy officials. She had dual-citizenship and knew that officially it would be difficult for Equestria to prosecute her for any major crime, no matter how trumped up it may be.

Unofficially, she was standing in the center of the home of the supreme ruler of the entire kingdom and felt that such things as citizenship and legal protections would be trivial matters if the solar Princess deemed the griffon’s knowledge of her sister’s actions a threat to Equestria. Worse yet, no one outside of her escort and the Princess herself knew she was even there.

“Here we are.”

Gilda pulled out of her reverie to see an unassuming pair of doors before her. They were certainly not the doors to the main courtroom she recalled from years past. Is this… her private study?

“Is there anything special I have to do?” Gilda asked the only question that came to her frazzled mind. “Do I have to bow?”

Please don't tell me I have to bow!

The royal guard dropped the stoic demeanor and allowed a thin smile to grace his lips – one that spoke of years of experience as a herald.

“Don’t worry. You can just be casual on this visit.”

I can be casual... alright, now I'm scared.

The guard gave a light rap on the door before opening. Gilda followed the armored stallion inside to see Princess Celestia hunched over a too-small desk, working on her daily business as Equestria's ruler. The two pegasi guards took up regular positions flanking the doors.

“Ah, Gilda,” she welcomed the griffon in her usual comforting tone. “I’ll just be a few moments here. You can hand the cables to your escort.”

Gilda opened her satchel and pulled out the heavy binders, which the guard grabbed in his telekinesis. He sorted through the documents before pulling out an envelope and placing it on the desk. Celestia waved a hoof and dismissed him. Without lifting her eyes from the scroll she was writing on, she addressed the nervous griffon standing in the center of the room. “I hope you can forgive the delay, as I understand you’ve just finished a long flight and must be eager to return home and start your weekend. This arrived after I requested that you be brought in to see me and requires my immediate attention.”

With a quiet thud, the stallion closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with the great white alicorn. Gilda’s mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t so much as chirp in acknowledgment. As Celestia continued to scratch at the document, Gilda’s eyes wandered the room. Besides the palace door, the only other way out was through a pair of large glass doors to an outside balcony, a sprint she might be able to make were it not for the ability of Celestia’s magic to literally stop her in her tracks.

Giving up all hopes of a last-minute dash to safety, she instead chose to focus on the contents of the room itself. It held a level of opulence befitting a princess, no question about that, but there was a lived-in feeling to the clutter and piles of scrolls and books scattered throughout. It had a very real feel to it, and a small part of her wondered how many audiences had actually seen this room and not the court itself or one of the more formal meeting rooms. As she fidgeted in place, the only thing that truly caught her attention was the other avian sharing the room. Celestia's pet phoenix stirred on her perch, cawing softly at the griffon that had invaded her space.

Finally unable to stand the silence any longer, Gilda spoke up. “I didn’t tell them about your sister. The… officials at the embassy,” she fumbled when Celestia looked up. “I never told them. They don’t know what happened.”

“For that, you have my thanks,” Celestia told her before returning to her documents. She finished a few final lines and dashed off what was probably a signature before depositing her quill in its inkwell. The scroll was wrapped in a golden aura and vanished in a puff of magic. “Luna had informed me at breakfast this morning of that little indiscretion and I’ve been worried about what might come of it. I’m glad to know it can be kept private. Still, it is not the reason I called you here today.”

Of all of today’s revelations, that was the most startling. “So what was your sister doing in my head then? Why am I here at all, if not for that?”

Celestia cleared the desk of documents, stacking them neatly on the side before looking up and directly addressing her audience once more. “My sister, bless her heart,” she began, “can be rather obstinate and set in her ways. After her cleansing by the Elements, Luna has had difficulty adjusting to modern society. Some things carry over quite easily through the centuries, but many things… are lost in translation. That she does not have full, irreproachable control of the dreamlands is something she seems unwilling to accept.” Celestia got to her hooves and went to retrieve something from a filing cabinet. “Her dream-walking ability can be used for good or ill. But sadly, time has only remembered her for one of those traits. She is doing her best to change that now, but at times she still oversteps her boundaries.”

“Look princess,” Gilda replied, “it’s not something I'm gonna lose sleep over – I mean! I'm not bothered too much by it.” The cocky grin she tried only half worked.

“Again, you have my gratitude for your discretion. But, let’s put that matter behind us now. As I’ve said, it’s not the reason I summoned you here today.”

“So why did you summon me?”

Celestia sat back down at the desk with a stack of yellowed scrolls hovering beside her.

“To talk about you.”

Gilda unconsciously backed up a step, one foreleg crooked defensively before her. “Wha... m-me? You must have the wrong griffon.”

“I'm sure I have the right griffon.”

“And what about me do you want to know?”

Celestia sighed. “What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?”

“One of these might be able to clarify.” Celestia began to rifle through the stack of papers. “I have a student in Ponyville,” she said as she worked. “She's a good pony, but a bit of a shutin. I actually had to make it a formal assignment that she go out and make friends. Over the course of that assignment, I’ve had her and – more recently – her friends send correspondence whenever they discover something profound about friendship.” Celestia pretended to not notice Gilda's eye roll. “Here.” Celestia handed Gilda a paper. “Read.”

What is this, a love letter?

“Dearest Princess Celestia. Today, I learned that it’s hard to accept when somepony you like wants to spend time with somepony who's not so nice...”

Gilda trailed off, her expression hardening the further down she read. Once done, she slammed the parchment down on the desk with a paw, her talons scoring small holes through it. She felt righteous indignation burn inside her chest, then disappear as quickly as it came, leaving naught but an empty void behind.

“A false friend, huh? Is that all I am to you, Dash?” she croaked

Celestia spoke softly. “That may or may not be true. But this is only the opinion expressed by my student. If that is truly what Rainbow Dash thinks of you, we may never know.”

Gilda’s face curled up in a snarl again. “Well, Princess. Maybe what happened is that I went there to visit my best friend – who I hadn't seen in ages – because the week before, Gryphus formally announced they were closing the Cloudsdale Embassy and I didn’t know if I’d ever even see her again! I just wanted to hang out and have fun like we always did, because it could very well have been our last chance to do so. Instead, Dash decided it would be fun to throw this ridiculous prank party for me. Or maybe it was Pinkie Pie unable to take a hint! Maybe it’s the fact that it’s damned near impossible for me to make any other friends around here! I couldn't even keep a job at the damned weather factory because I didn't have a godsdamned cutie mark!” Gilda's fiery voice dropped to a whisper. “Or maybe it's because I was left to fend for myself by my parents, my friends, and my whole society.” Fire returned to Gilda's voice as she focused on Celestia again. “Why am I telling you this! You don't care!”

“Oh really?” Celestia reached into the pile of letters once again, pulling out a piece of college-ruled notebook paper. “This might change your opinion.”

Gilda grabbed the letter and began to read, slow realization creeping onto her features. Memories came flooding back; flight camp, enrollment in the exchange program, a barely in her teens Gilda writing a letter to Princess Celestia detailing how she was in Equestria against her will, and throwing out the response – her angry, short-sighted mind unwilling to accept such banal and unhelpful counsel as the words of a Princess. Her beak began to quiver when she reached the end.

“Y-you actually read this?” Gilda asked, shock and disbelief evident in her voice.

“Of course.”

“B-but, the… the response? That was yours?”

“It was. And do you remember what I said in that letter?”

Gilda racked her brain, trying to remember Celestia's reply. All she could really recall of it was that it hadn’t offered the help that she wanted and tried to impart advice that seemed more than useless at the time. She literally had skimmed it once, then spitefully threw it over the edge of Cloudsdale – never to be seen again. “Not offhand no.”

Celestia nodded. “I see. Well, Gilda, it comes back to why I asked you here today. Do you think you could please tell me what happened to the griffon that wrote that second letter, how she became the griffon in the first?”

Gilda took a glance around the room, her cheeks burning beneath her feathers. Personal feelings aside, with a living goddess asking for her personal story, it would be foolish not to answer. She coiled her tail around her legs and tried to compose her thoughts. “I could try. I should start at the beginning though, tell you how I really got here.”

She sat down and folded her forepaws in front of herself. “When I was a cub, I used to be a big fan of ponies. I knew all sorts of crazy pony facts, I was even friends with a group of colts and fillies at my school. Until she came.” Gilda stopped for a long, morose sigh. Celestia's questioning gaze promoted her to continue. “Grizelda was a perfect griffon; prideful, brash, rude... hated ponies – and that made her very popular very fast. One day, she found out that I was friends with the 'herd' and gave me two choices. Either I stick with the ponies and be ostracized alongside them, or I join her little clique.” Celestia frowned, seeing full well where this story was going. “After that day, all the ponies looked at me like I was the enemy, like I was the bad griffon. I had to side with Grizelda, I didn’t have a choice!

“A few years later it was finals, and the clique decided to intentionally fail the Equestrian Society test. Now, this was fairly common; students would get good grades in other fields so they wouldn't get held back. Except I had been falling behind in several classes. And in order to not flunk, I needed an incredibly good grade on the test. I got an A-plus with extra credit! But this... did not go over well with Grizelda. After that, my parents sent me to flight camp in Equestria for the summer. Before I left, Grizelda came at me with all these weird allegations, said I was a disgrace to all of Gryphus, said they wouldn't let me back in for what I had done.

“When I arrived at the camp, I quickly realized that I was the only griffon there. The first several days were rough – I-I wasn't allowed to eat meat. I had to have these disgusting protein shakes to supplement my suddenly changed diet. Then the rumors started flying; some ponies thought I was some kind of freaky orphan, others thought my family had committed some terrible crime and had been exiled to Equestria as a punishment. Either way, I was reminded of these, and other vile opinions, every day.”

“But there must have been somepony decent there?” Celestia guessed.

“There was!” Gilda’s beak twitched in a nostalgic grin. “We first met when she quite literally almost ran into me.”

Gilda looked up just in time to see a blue rainbow blur on a beeline with her face. Her feline reflexes kicked in and launched the griffon safely aside. The little pegasus wasn't so lucky, hitting the cloud layer at an angle and carving a trench for a few feet before stopping. Gilda stalked over to the downed pony, preparing to chew her out for nearly creaming her and causing her tail to puff brilliantly, only for the heckling from above to bring her up short.

“Nice flying, Rainbow Crash!”

The griffon turned her head around backwards to see the gaggle of colts on the higher cloud layer. Gilda recognized the trio as the ones that bullied any newbie that was unable to fly. So far, nopony had the guts to openly bully the griffon, but of all the little cliques she’d seen, this one was the worst.

“Hey, Crash!” one of the colts jeered. “Look out! The freak's about to eat you!”

Gilda had put up with the stares and rumors in order to keep her cool image, but this was the breaking point. Her beak dropping low to match the growl in her throat, she tensed her leg muscles in preparation of pouncing the colts and teaching them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget. She would have, too, if not for the two pairs of hooves suddenly landing on her back. The rainbow pegasus was standing on her! Gilda was too stunned by this to do anything besides try and keep upright under the sudden, unexpected extra weight.

“One of these days, Hoops!” the filly shouted from her unwilling soapbox. “One of these days, I’m gonna make you put your money where your mouth is!”

“Not if you keep crashing all the time, you won't!” The bullies devolved into self-serving laughter. But despite this, the rainbow pegasus stood firm. After settling down, the colts decided to find another hapless victim, but not without some parting words.

“See you later, Crash.”

“Bye, freak!” one of the others chimed in.

As the bullies faded away, the pegasus sighed. “It's 'griffon', plothole.”

“Yeah, it is!” Gilda squirmed, finding her voice once more. “And do you mind getting the hay off?!”

“Oh!” The rainbow maned pegasus hopped back down onto the cloud layer. She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry.”

Gilda turned and fluffed her wings to resettle them, her beak once more set in a hard snarl as she turned to properly size up the reckless blue pony beside her. Part of her wanted to send the mare packing and not get involved, but the other part recognized that of all the newbies she’d seen get picked on by those bullies, this was the only one to stand up and fight back. While Gilda hadn’t personally come into their line of fire, she was sure that it was only a matter of time before that happened. As a griffon she could more than handle herself against a pegasus or two; more would be a problem. Laying her wings back and smoothing her feathers, Gilda put on a smile and did the most logical thing.

“Say, you're not all lame like the other ponies. Wanna hang out?”

“Maybe, but I gotta lay down some ground rules,” the pegasus replied, squinting as she appraised the griffon across from her. “First thing. That,” she raised a hoof at her crash site, “never happened. And second,” she was now in Gilda's face, “never diss me, or my friends. Got that?”

“So that... never happened?”

The pony was so close that Gilda could feel her breath on her beak. “It NEVER happened!”

“And.. never diss you –?”

“OR my friends!”

“Or your friends.” Gilda squinted back, her gold eyes never breaking from the pony’s rose-colored ones. “Yeah. I think I can handle that.”

The pegasus broke into a grin, finally backing off and holding out a hoof. “If you’re game, then I’m game. Name’s Rainbow Dash.”

The griffon looked around and reached out her talon for a shake, but stopped short. She’d spent so many years hating ponies, just in an effort to save her own feathers. Gilda let her talons curl into a ball, remembering those times when she used to fly with the herd.

“Gilda.” In a complete surprise to Rainbow, the griffon knocked her first against the offered hoof.

“Wow! You can hoof-bump!”

Gilda waved an uncaring talon in the air. “Yeah, I’m just full of surprises.”

“I mean, I just can't – I can't believe I found a real griffon!” Rainbow Dash squealed while dancing in place, the hoof-bump having shattered the pegasus’ brash exterior like ice on the first day of winter.

Wanting to be spared of any embarrassment, Gilda bodily grabbed the ecstatic pony. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm it down.”

“Eheh,” she nervously laughed “Sorry 'bout that. I just never thought I’d find one! I thought they were the coolest when we learned about them in school, but none of them lived around us, and then when I first saw you here I was so excited and nervous and –!”

“Ugh, if you can calm your inner fangirl, then I'm game to hang. Cool?”

“Cool!” Rainbow agreed. “No promises, though.”

“That's how I met Rainbow Dash. After that, things changed. Since I was her friend, I had to contend with the bullies now, too.” A smile tugged at the corners of Gilda’s beak. “We had each other’s flank, though. Sure, the haters came at us like flies at times, but we dealt with them. Some days it felt like it was us against that whole damned camp. But we struggled and clawed our way to the top and we never let them forget it. Despite all the hate, the taunting, the… discrimination, it was me and her through it all. I thought we could do anything.

“I didn't want it to end. How dumb a notion was that?”

After two months, the last morning of Junior Speedsters finally rolled around. All the campers were casually assembled on the clouds, awaiting their parents or guardians to pick them up. Colts and fillies alike were hanging out for the last time, others were exchanging credentials, with promises to keep in touch. Standing slightly apart from the group, Gilda and Rainbow Dash were doing just that.

“So how long until I hear from you?”

Gilda shrugged. “Well, Gryphus mail is pretty quick, so a few weeks, give or take.”

“Say, don't you have anypony coming to pick you up?” Rainbow asked with a hint of concern.

“Uuhh...” Gilda began, “Well, I kinda made my own way here.”

Then the two friends noticed that things had gone quiet around them. They looked to their peers to see all eyes cast toward the sky. A small shadow formed above Gilda and with a muffled thud, a large griffon dropped onto the cloud. Everypony, including Rainbow Dash, instinctively backed up, finally seeing the size of what they believed was Gilda's parent. The only one who didn't shy away was Gilda herself.

“Gilda Goldtalon?” he addressed her with an uncultured accent honed from years spent in the sky.

Feeling a creeping dread, Gilda dumbly nodded. This was not her parent and she wasn’t expecting an escort. Judging by the black jacket and brown satchel this griffon was one of Gryphus' legendary royal messengers.

The messenger handed her an envelope. Then, as quickly as he came, the mysterious stranger launched back into the sky. The envelope had a distinct bulge and weight of something metallic inside. Using a sharp talon to open it, the griffon pulled out the enclosed letter and scanned through. The further she read, the more detached from reality she felt. Rainbow was hovering behind, asking what the letter said and trying to read it for herself – getting nowhere due to letter being solely in Griffish. Gilda’s world was spinning. This couldn't be happening!

“Gilda? What's it say? Gilda? Gilda!?”

The Future

A deafening silence had overtaken the study, broken only by the soft creaking of the phoenix’s gilded, swaying cage. Philomena herself remained silent, as though she understood the pain of her fellow avian. Gilda was still lost to her memories, her golden eyes unfocused as she absentmindedly played with her jacket zipper.

“Apparently, back when I took the Equestrian Society test, the government was hawking over the results,” the griffon eventually said, picking up her story again. “My top score must have been perfect for their little scheme. The ‘Young Ambassador’ program.”

“Their scheme?”

“Yes!” the exasperated griffon hissed, her talons balling up. “The scheme that landed me here in the first place!”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge,” Celestia’s stink eye kept Gilda rooted to the spot. “The Young Ambassador’s program has been a pet project of mine for many years. I created it with the hope that by having members of the different races living and working closely together in a normal, unofficial environment, it would help breed understanding and tolerance in the young generation. It still needs some work, it seems.” Celestia grimaced to herself, pointedly ignoring Gilda’s abashed expression.

“There were several problems with it that year,” the Princess resumed her explanation. “One of the original candidates had to back out at the last minute due to family issues. Questions arose about the suitability of his replacement; she had originally been rejected for a position due to distinctly low grades in many of her studies – math, science, literature, even griffon history, among other things.

“Luckily, the original family was still willing to accept her, but that luck only went so far.” Gilda sent a well-intentioned glare Celestia’s way for using “luck” to describe her predicament. Brushing this aside, the Princess continued. “Due to the shock and pain in her heart, the griffon expressed herself in various unsavory ways to her surrogates and was eventually removed from that household.

“I believe you know the rest.”

Even after Celestia's revealing speech, Gilda still had more questions than answers. She knew from the get-go that the Princess had something to do with it, but even so, the same question as always played in her mind. Why did it have to be her? Just... why?

She decided she might as well ask. “If what you’re saying is true… How did I ever get past the assessment stage to make final placement?”

“There was political pressure from the other side of the table,” Celestia explained. “I wasn’t privy to the wranglings going on back in Gryphus, but I put my trust in my counterpart’s judgment and let it pass. Perhaps I should have given it a closer look?” she asked, one brow raised.

Gilda was ignoring her though, lost in thought as her unfocused gaze wandered the papers on Celestia’s desk. She shook her head. “None of this was my doing, I said as much in that letter. I never wanted to be in Equestria in the first place. I mean, I didn't even know I was a part of the program until I was given the notice. Nogriff ever told me; not my teachers, not my parents...”

“Gilda,” Celestia soothed. “I am just as clueless as to why your parents would keep you in the dark –“

“Ha!” Gilda laughed – a hollow, sarcastic laugh. “It’s prolly 'cuz they were just too busy to deal with a moody teen griffon that almost failed primary school and thought it would be a great way to have her out of their feathers for a few years.” Her sardonic expression softened, clearly revealing the pain underneath. “Come to think of it, they weren't around very often, I guess they thought the servants had me under control and weren’t in the mood to deal with it when they found out otherwise.”

“Oh... I see.”

Celestia waited for Gilda to say more, but the griffon was lost in her memories. She decided best to wait until Gilda was ready to say more and rose from the desk, pacing towards the balcony windows to look over the orange rays of the setting sun.

“Ugh, I'm such a dweeb,” Gilda finally groaned, flapping her wings in an effort to cool her temper. “I can't believe I'm getting all worked up over this.”

“We all have insecurities,” Celestia gazed out the large bay window, the sunset silhouetting her body. “Expectations; beliefs, and problems.”

“Even you?”

Celestia faced the griffon. “Especially me, Gilda. Especially me.

“But,” the princess grabbed up the friendship reports with her magic and filed them away once more. “You can help me with one of those problems.”

The letter on the desk from earlier was opened by Celestia, revealing to Gilda that it was some kind of property deed. “What is this?” she asked.

“After you completed the Young Ambassador program, you enrolled in an equine research position with the Gryphus Consulate.”

“Yeah, and?”

“This deed is to the house that you currently reside in. It and several other Gryphus owned properties around Equestria were recently liquidated – due to the latest round of budget cuts, I’m sure.”

“Liquidated? Does that mean I’m being... evicted?” Gilda paled at this new development. She knew that eviction was inevitable given how Gryphus was downsizing its political presence, she just didn’t think the news would have come to her like this! She couldn’t believe the Princess would be cruel enough to bring her all the way just for this.

“That would have been the case, had I not stepped in.”

Gilda’s tail and brow twitched at that. “Okay… So, why? And why all the song and dance today?”

“Because I wanted to see you; speak with you. I wanted to know why one of my most reluctant ambassadors seemed to have done everything she could to stay in a land she never wanted to be in in the first place.” Celestia trod back over, her golden shoes clicking softly on the marble. “I’d say you’ve answered that. So now we come to the matter of your future in Equestria, and your home in particular.”

As much as Gilda wanted to just leave right then and not hear the Princess out, the more she thought about it, the more she realized just how fortunate she was. She would have been on the streets, looking for a way too expensive apartment of her own in one of the major cities, or trying to split rent with strangers or co-workers from the embassies there. Either way, her hope of saving enough to return to Gryphus on her own in the foreseeable future would have been crushed if the Princess hadn’t stepped in.

“I have seen that expression on many griffons in my time. I'm guessing you want to break even?”

“I’m wondering what you think that me, of all griffons, could possibly offer you that would be worth a home. So, yeah.”

This time it was Celestia with the sardonic smile. “In that case, I have a new job proposal for you. Or rather a proposal that you take an old job in a new direction.” Gilda cocked her head inquiringly at the alicorn. “In exchange for the home, I need you to take your old studies and turn them around. Instead of telling a story about ponies, tell a story about griffons.”

“Tell a story about griffons?” Gilda asked with a dubious tone. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Celestia turned away from Gilda and paced back to the window, gazing out upon her setting sun. “One of the advantages of being as long-lived as I am is that I have the ability to actually see history repeating itself. The road that Gryphus and Equestria are heading for now is not one that I wish to travel again if I can help it.” She turned her head back to Gilda. “Are you familiar with The Containment?”

Gilda nodded, at least remembering that much of history class. Having been defeated on the plains of Canterlot and driven from their initial claw-hold in New Yoke, the griffon military turned to their one area of superiority over ponies; their navy. They couldn’t defeat the ponies on their own turf, but they could keep them from going anywhere else. For decades, griffon ships prowled the Equestrian coastline, picking off any pony ship unlucky enough to fall into their clutches. Ponies weren’t as adept at sailing and had never been able to construct ships equal to the griffons.

Equestria could survive on its own bottled up like that, but it couldn’t truly thrive. So, like almost all pony solutions, The Containment wasn’t solved by direct confrontation or force of arms; it was solved by diplomacy. And more importantly, economics. Ponies couldn’t beat the griffons on the seas, so they beat them in the markets. What ponies may have lacked in industrial might was more than made up for in magic. The pegasi, with their weather control ability, were tasked with maintaining optimal growing conditions for many crops farmed by the earth ponies, to ensure maximum yield. Unicorn magic was capable of crafting anything beyond griffon technology. Any goods that didn’t absolutely need to be shipped by sea were either flown to their destinations or were taken by caravan.

“It took us a couple of centuries to win your people over that first time,” Celestia continued, “but eventually we both started to warm up to each other. Trading occurred, consulates were built, and proper international relations were established. I’ve always strived to maintain those relations between our people, as I’ve always believed we’re stronger together than apart. ”

Even though Celestia couldn’t see her, Gilda tried not to roll her eyes at the history lesson and dryness of international politics.

“But, there are always those who believe otherwise, and right now they seem to have the upper hoof. Or talon. You’ve felt their influence directly, it’s why you’re here. The cooling of relations between our peoples has been gradual but by now is clearly undeniable. It started with the first closing of the embassy in Las Pegasus. Along with the embassy, quite a few goodwill programs were canceled entirely. As a result, relations inevitably further soured.” She turned to Gilda once more, her ethereal mane framed by the windows behind her. “Now I have not spent centuries nurturing relations between our peoples just to see it backslide into some self-imposed version of The Containment. This is where you come in.

“What I’m asking is that you become an Equestrian ambassador.” Celestia continued over Gilda’s suddenly dumbfounded expression. “You will be undertaking research, much like your original Gryphus Consulate post. But instead of researching Equestria, I want you to research Gryphus, and tell us all a story we won’t soon forget. Any documents you prepare will also be forwarded to my protege in Ponyville. She is very keen to start her own inquiry into the subject as well.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Gilda, picking up her beak from where it had dropped. “You’re asking me, of all griffons, to teach ponies about a subject that I know so little about?”

“Not quite. At least not yet.” Celestia shook her head. “You are approaching this from the wrong angle.”

“So then, how am I supposed to approach this?”

“Don’t think of yourself right now as a teacher. Think of yourself as a student.” Celestia magiced over a thick book from a nearby shelf and placed it in front of Gilda. “I need you to educate yourself first on the matter before you’re capable of educating others.”

Curiosity piqued, the griffon examined the book, glancing at its title and flipping it open to a random page.

“I asked my student which book would best benefit a griffon who wanted to ‘brush up’ on her history, and this one came highly recommended.”

“But, if she’s reading these books and recommending them to me, then why am I needed?”

“Twilight is one of the most brilliant unicorns I’ve ever taught, but in her heart, she is still a researcher. And while all her research is concise and factual, it’s all been gleaned from books like that one. I think she would be thrilled to also hear it straight from the griffon’s beak, so to speak.” Celestia smiled. “And I don’t think she’d be the only one. If we want this story to become anything but the kind of dry, academic research that Twilight would provide, we need to put a real face on it. We need to put entertainment value behind it. Personally, I think that a little wit would go a long way.”

“Hey, if sarcasm is what you need, then I’m your girl!” Despite the downward gaze at the book in front of her, Celestia could still see Gilda’s eyes. She saw the anger and pain she had noticed since the griffon had first walked into her study, but there was now a small twinkle in those golden orbs. A spark, desperate for something new to pass the time, even if it was just research.

“I have a feeling that you’re capable of far more than just sarcasm, Ambassador Goldtalon.”

Gilda flinched slightly at the mention of Goldtalon. Ugh, my official pony name, I hope I don’t get used to it. Even so, it was a job and it would allow her to continue with her plan. She’d certainly put up with worse to achieve her goal.

Folding the book closed, she rested her paw on the cover and took a deep breath before she looked up at Celestia. “Okay. You got me. I’m in.”

The solar diarch favored her with a smile as she resettled her great white wings. “I’m quite glad to hear that.”

Gilda noticed the window behind the Princess, also noting the low angle the sunset’s rays had taken. “Ah, damn!” she exclaimed. “ I gotta get going!”

Celestia looked out the window also, seeming to just realize how late the day had grown as well. “Indeed. This conversation has lasted longer than I had expected.”

Gilda rose from her sitting position, slowly regaining feeling in the back leg that she didn't know had fallen asleep.

Celestia walked to the room’s large glass doors and opened them, exposing the balcony. “You may take off from here.”

Seeing the open balcony, Gilda quickly limped her way there, then limped back to where she had sat to retrieve her history book. After safely stowing the tome away in her satchel, she joined the solar diarch on the deck in the warm evening breeze. Not wanting to waste any more precious daylight Gilda spread her wings and tensed for takeoff, but a stray thought kept her grounded.

She was in the presence of Equestrian royalty. And, even though Gilda was a prideful griffon, she couldn't just... brush her off like that. Could she? Some parting words needed to be said, but a nagging question snuck past her beak.

“Why did she do it?”

Celestia inclined her head at this, her perked ears silently bidding the griffon clarify.

“I mean, there's millions of ponies in Equestria. Why did it happen to be my dream she found?”

“Well Gilda, that is a good question, one that I have no answer for, sadly,” Celestia replied with a shrug of her great head and a languid blink. “It’s something you’d have to ask my sister. I understand the basic premise of dream-walking, but the actual function of 'finding dreams' is unknown to me. Only Luna understands that power. Just like how I only understand my own.”

Gilda mulled this over, then nodded, begrudgingly accepting the answer. Slapping her talons down on the white marble rail, she pulled the rest of her body up and stood with an expert balance.

When she finally spoke her parting words, Gilda realized just how long it’d been since she’d last said them and how much they meant now. “Thank you. For everything that you’ve done for me, thank you.”

The orange of the setting sun glinted in Celestia’s ethereal mane as the alicorn favored the griffon with a demure smile. “You’re quite welcome. Citizen of Equestria.”

Daylight was precious, and time was wasting, so the griffon took to the skies. She looked to the west and quickly estimated how much daylight the sky would have to offer.

I have about an hour’s worth, which will make this tight. Maybe I could have tried asking for an extension… Nah. Best not push it. Prolly best to not look the – ugh – gift horse in the mouth.

The setting sun drove the flier to strive for more altitude and speed. Just as she left Canterlot airspace, she heard it.

“Gilda!”

It was far enough away that she thought it was in her head. But she swore that it sounded just like –

“Gilda!”

The griffon snapped her head downwards and saw the same green horsefly from earlier buzzing up to meet her. “Urgh, I thought that pony went home,” Gilda growled. Despite this, she still slowed to see if it was something important – which she doubted. Lightning Dust fell in abreast of Gilda and immediately started spouting questions.

“You mind telling me what happened back there? What’d they bring you in for?”

“What?” Gilda was stunned that Lightning knew about what had transpired. “How do you know about that?”

The pegasus’s ears pinned back in embarrassment. “Well, I was kinda, sorta following you to the castle gate and all. Thought maybe, just maybe we could hang out after. Anyway, everything seemed fine, until the guards dragged you away and –!”

Gilda quickly held up her talon. “Woah! Hold it right there! Firstly, I wasn't 'dragged' away, I was ‘escorted.’ There’s a difference.” Usually one involving leg-irons.

Lighting tried to continue but was silenced again.

“And secondly, any business I had with the Princess is private.”

Lightning's face displayed a plethora of disbelieved expressions, her mouth sputtering in unison.

“Y-you had teatime with the Princess?!”

Instead of face-pawing, Gilda decided to play with the pony. She leaned her head back and raised her brow in an aloof expression. “So what if I did?”

The pony was incredulous. “So what if you did?! You were with Princess Celestia, the big mare herself! Why are you so special?”

“Well...” Gilda examined her talons in a snooty fashion. “Because I happen to be a princess of Gryphus.”

The flapping of the fliers' wings was the only sound in the sky.

“Really?” Lightning asked with a flat tone.

“No! Not really. Look, nothing happened, okay! 'Sides, just because you didn't see royalty on the first day doesn’t mean you won't at all. With your position, I bet you will see a lot of them in the future.”

“Yeah, but, you flew off her balcony. Since when does that happen, unless…” Lightning Dust’s muzzle quirked in a mischievous grin. “You're her widdle carrier pigeon, oh yes you are, oh yes you are!”

A younger, angrier Gilda would have easily lashed out at such patronizing behavior. But her mind wanted to take new paths.

“Tch, with the way Celestia fawns over subjects, that may not be too far from the truth.”

“Ha! I hear that!” Lightning declared. “Still not as bad as my mom, though.”

Griffon and pony alike shared a laugh that quickly ended. The former looked at the twilight sky and realized that she had about an hour’s worth of light for her roughly two-hour flight home.

“Yeah, uh, LD, I'd love to hang around and chat, but I gotta jet. Light is wasting away and I don't have the moon on my side either.”

“Um, the moon was full last night, and I don't think it’s changed very much since.”

“Wait, the moon was full?” Gilda asked, dumbfounded.

“You seriously didn't notice the moon?”

“I have to wake up at four-thirty in the morning!” Gilda exclaimed. “Come eight or nine I’m typically asleep. I can’t be bothered to check the sky.”

“Then you should bother to check your calendar.”

“I'll have to do that next time,” Gilda chuffed.

Lighting waved her hoof dismissively. “Don't sweat it, 'tis just the services of your friendly neighborhood Lightning Dust.”

“Alright,” the griffon addressed the mare. “Now that you're done checking on me or whatever, why are you still following me?”

“Following you!” Lightning sputtered. “You're the one who won't stop! Besides, I don't plan on returning to Cloudsdale anytime soon. So you don’t need to worry about being disturbed by little 'ol me –”

“Dust?” Gilda interjected softly.

“Yeah?”

“You-you're alright. For a pony.”

Lightning grinned. “Yeah, I have that effect –“

“What you did back on that roof, that rarely happens for me. Most ponies are either too afraid or too intimidated to approach me. I mean, just because I look different doesn't mean I am.”

Gilda expected some sort of wise-crack about how sappy this was, and was surprised when it didn't come. Instead, Lightning was holding out her hoof.

“Well, it was my first real day on the job, and you were a long hauler like me, so I couldn't resist. And honestly, it looked like you needed the company.”

Gilda silently agreed with her, even if she would never admit it.

“Plus you looked awesome.”

That brought a smile to her beak. “Well now, I can't lie, I am pretty awesome!”

I just wish my awesomeness didn't get in the way so much.

Seeing Lightning's hoof still outstretched, Gilda reached out her talon but stopped. She then balled a fist and knocked it against the hoof.

“Hah,” the pegasus laughed. “I knew there was a little pony in you.”

Gilda practically bristled at the allegation. This only succeeded in causing all her feathers to puff up, something that did not go unnoticed by Lightning Dust.

“Pffft! Bwahahaha!”

“Tell anypony and they’ll never find your body, Dust,” Gilda growled at her.

Lightning defensively threw her hooves up. “Woah now, no need for that.” She leaned in close. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Gilda challenged. “I'm sure it is.”

Another mischievous grin stole across Lightning’s muzzle and she dipped closer to Gilda. “Well… there is one way to make doubly sure that nopony knows about your ruffled feathers.”

“And what would that be?”

“Let me feel them.”

“Oh ho ho! I see what you're playing at,” chided the griffon, swerving away from the pegasus. “No, you have to earn that right first!”

Already knowing that Lighting would play dirty with big eyes, Gilda was forced to compromise.

“Ugh, fine! How about this then. Next time I molt, you can have all the crappy feathers. Do whatever you like with them; preserve them, throw 'em in the trash – hell, make a pillow out of them to practice your lame pick up lines on.”

“What?! I wasn't hitting on you!”

“Oh, sure, sure you weren’t,” Gilda playfully mocked her, narrowing her eyes and bobbing her head. “It just looked that way. I believe you. Totally.”

A stark silence befell the two, something that was unbearable to one of them.

“Was it really that lame?”

“Oh no, Dust. 'Let me feel them' is a great pickup line!”

“I didn't mean it like that! I swear!” Gilda could swear she saw red on the pony’s turquoise cheeks and it wasn’t from the sunset.

A rumbling, gurgling sound hit both their ears.

Lightning looked at her own stomach. “Uh, hey. Wouldn't you know it, I'm late for a date with dinner.”

“A date?”

“Yes, Gilda. With dinner.”

“Is that what you call her now? Maybe you’ll introduce us sometime.”

“L-like you have any room to talk! Your stomach's been howling the whole time.”

As soon as Lightning pointed it out, Gilda felt the hunger pains hitting hard.

“Ugh, well the Princess didn't give me any crumpets or whatever those things are that rich ponies eat.”

“Yeah,” Lightning replied. She shrugged. “Guess we should get home and feed the beasts, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right. Later, Dust.”

The pony broke away and, finally, headed home. “I'll be seeing you next week!” she shouted to the griffon.

Gilda shook her head. Not like I have a choice.

A few hours later found Gilda on the doorstep of her home. True to Lightning Dust's word, the moon shone brilliantly and offered more than enough light for the return trip. Despite the new developments, she entered the house the same way as always – tired and hungry. Her satchel and jacket were shed and dropped on the floor by the entrance; she couldn’t be bothered to properly hang them up right then and was thankful just to be out of them. A spot of leftover fish from the fridge partially helped alleviate her gnawing hunger. But instead of putting her to sleep like it usually did, the fish helped to recoup some lost energy.

Gilda wanted to sleep, but her heart had different plans. Swallowing the last of the cold fish, the griffon went into her least favorite room, the study. Instead of the usual half-hearted writing about ponies that Gilda used the room for, she was in there for much different reasons. She examined the bookcases that flanked the room, full of equestrian knowledge. That would have to change soon if she was to pull off this new endeavor. But, for now, all that was needed was a space for the new addition. Gilda pried an opening on the shelf for the book and groaned in frustration when she realized where that book was. I’ll let Future Gilda get that one.

So instead, she sat before the veritable mess of a desk and gathered up all the loose – and now redundant – research papers into a loose stack. With the space mostly cleared, she could now organize all her quills and different colored inkwells at the top of the desk. Finished, she gathered the stack of documents in her talons and stopped briefly to consider her new role.

Ugh, tell a story about griffons? I'm gonna have to sleep on that one.

Gilda opened the drawer for copied documents, and as she placed the papers in their final resting place, her talon brushed against something hard. Without seeing it, she knew exactly what it was. She hadn’t set eyes on it since it was unceremoniously shoved to the back there almost two years ago. The glass-less frame she pulled from the drawer contained a faded picture of two fliers who had just graduated Junior Speedsters. The fledgling griffon in the picture had head feathers that were a dark, juvenile brown, speckled with adult white feathers that were just coming in – and the pony had a prismatic mane. Their smiles told of different, happier times. A small shard of glass that stubbornly clung to the corner of the frame told the latest chapter of their story. But instead of bitterly throwing it back in the drawer, she drew it closer.

You were the first pony that gave me the time of day in this godforsaken country, she thought. But those days are gone...

After having a moment with the photograph, Gilda stood back up with it and left for her bedroom. With one talon holding the frame and the other trying to finagle out the shard, she was forced into a bipedal walk, which wasn't a problem for the griffon. Once she freed the glass and tossed it in the trash, she crawled onto her bed. As she laid down on the comforting mattress, all the stress put on her body from flying all day began to show. Sleep would help with that, she just had to hope she could come by it soon.

Gilda rolled onto her side facing the nightstand and stood the picture up in its rightful position. Over the past few years, the griffon had gone through a plethora of emotions over what that picture meant; from rage at Pinkie Pie for coming in between them, to anger and loathing at her own insecurities, and finally to sorrow over Dash's rejection of her. If they were better friends, they would have reconciled, but stubborn pride on both sides was their downfall.

It was you that told me to find new friends, but I never felt ready...

Gilda lay unmoving in the bed, with eyes glued to the picture, trying to travel back to the time it was taken. She placed herself in her own skin back then and wondered if she had changed at all since then, or was she still the same sarcastic, spiteful fledgling in the picture.

...Until now.

She was torn. While the day had not presented her with any new opportunities to leave the ponies for Gryphus forever, she was still on course for that goal. But what was there for her, really? A family that had shunned her and sent her away, and a society she had never felt a part of and only grown further apart from due to her many years away. Here was a home, here was… a friend. One new, cool friend. Either stay for her and fulfill Rainbow’s suggestion – or return to a homeland that had nothing for her. The choice bounced around Gilda's head until the sandmare claimed her once more.

Only for you, Dash.

Gilda: An Honest Opinion? (Original draft)

This is not a fifth chapter to Old Paths, New Directions. This is just the original draft.

“What do you know about Ponies?”

This was the question that had been plaguing a Griffon's mind and dreams ever since she had a falling out with her best, and only Pony friend. This question was the whole reason why she was even in Equestria.

A small talon shot into the air. “Yes, Gilda?”

The dream flowed from one place to the next, neither coherent, nor indecipherable.

“And just WHY do you know so much about PONIES, you don't need to hang with those lame-brains now that I'M around! Unless, of course, you want to eat them.”

“Wha... N-no, it's not like that!”

“Exactly, now, make like a bee, and fly away home. Gimme a call when you're done being a dweeb.”

Time held no bounds in the dreamscape.

“Man am I glad to be done with that exam. Ugh, I can't believe I once actually liked those foul creatures.”

“Heh heh, You sure were lame back them. Just stick with us Griffons and everything will be smooth sailings.”

“Oh I ain't goin' anywhere other then on an awesome summer vacation.”

“Unfortunately the only place I'm going is straight to after school detention. I'll catch you later, G.”

“Ja.”

Even the best laid plans can fall astray.

“WHAT IN TARTARUS IS THIS!!!”

“A report card.”

“And what is the highest grade!”

“Uh, A plus?”

“Yes, A plus. A PLUS ON THE FREAKING PONY TEST!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!”

The flow turned into a torrent, with no rhyme nor reason.

“Why don't you make like a bee. BUZZ OFF!”

“We're sending you to a flight camp in Equestria for the summer.”

“You think they're gonna let you back in after that.”

“You're dorking up the skies Stinkie Pie.”

“These Ponies are driving me buggy, I gotta bail.”

“If being “cool” is all you care about, then why don't you go and find some new cool friends someplace else.”

“NOT. COOL.”

“ENOUGH!”

At this command, everything ceased to exist.

The dream became very lucid for Gilda. An ethereal dome had been formed overhead, with the deep purple of Gilda's subconscious swirling ominously outside. With a disturbing clarity, she cast her gaze on the Sandmare descending into the dreamscape. Touching down, The Alicorn spoke.

“Fear not, fair Equestrian.”

Though she would never admit it, Gilda was actually shaking. She knew all about the Nightmare and the reputation that preceded the Alicorn. After all, the dreamscape was used as a recruitment device during the Lunar Rebellion. Any fear felt by the Griffon, however, was lost as indignation took its place.

“I am not an Equestrian!” Gilda barked, drawing herself onto her hind legs to meet the Princess's height.

“Not by species, no,” Luna responded to the maddened Griffion.

Gilda grabbed the sides of her head. “Gah, why are you even here, don't you know how very bad this is for you!”

“Hm, I'm sure your personality has been very bad for many ponies.” Luna stated while watching an image of Gilda roaring at Fluttershy, a hoof placed under her chin..

A quick swipe of talons ended that particular vision.

“Not your greatest achievement, I'm sure.”

Gilda howled in frustration.

“Get out of my head!” the swirling mass that was Gilda's subconscious began bubbling furiously. “Look, Princess Luna, you seriously don't know how dangerous this is for you, no, for Equestria. You could start a war!”

“I guess we don't want that on our conscience now do we.”

“Yeah, I bet we don't. Now piss off!”

Gilda was going to continue with a lengthy tirade until Luna's ears perked at a ringing in the distance, not unlike a loud noise in a city that you eventually just get used to.

“Well, it seems like forces beyond our control will pull us apart.” Luna said as she began to fade from view.

“HEY! Get back here, dweeb! I'm not through with you yet!”

“The waking world calls you, Griffon, don't keep her waiting.”

“NIGHTMARE!” Gilda screamed out the Griffon Deity's name before realizing that she was sitting up in her bed.

Taking a minute to catch her breath, the Griffon cast her golden gaze to the offensive ringer sitting atop the nightstand. Gilda swung a fist at the alarm clock, but stopped short. Extending a talon, she gently pressed the off button, bathing the bedroom with silence. Utilizing the quiet reprieve, Gilda got on all fours and began her routine Griffon morning maintenance. She arched her back in a feline fashion while stretching out her still curled up avian talons as far as they could go, nearly touching the bed with her beak. Holding that position, Gilda stretched one rear leg out at a time, feeling a rough purr work its way up from her chest to her throat.

After working the kinks out of her back and limbs, Gilda set about her next order of maintenance. Plopping back down onto the bed, the Griffon unfurled her massive wings and appraised the damage.

'Ugh, I just preened these things last night, I must have been tossing in my sleep. I can't believe I let that lame-flank Princess crawl in my head.'

Unlike in Equestria, Griffon society remembered the Nightmare and the Lunar Rebellion's recruitment of Ponies and Griffons alike through the power of dreams. After Princess Luna's return and The Longest Night, the Griffon military went from peacetime to its maximum readiness. And the Gryphus-Equestria Pact, the longstanding peace treaty, almost came to an end.

Seeking a diplomatic solution, Celestia invited a delegation from Gryphus to discuss Luna's return. And after weeks of bitter negotiations, both sides came to an agreement that forbade Luna from Dreamwalking any of Gryphus's citizens or their embassy workers and diplomats living in Equestria.

Gilda's purr turned into a growl. 'They must have forgotten about lowly carrier pigeons like me.'

Gilda dipped her beak into the left wing and began smoothing out the feathers, also using a talon to speed up the process. As a Royal Gryphus Messenger, Gilda had been drilled by her superiors the importance of a quick and efficient delivery between Gryphus and the various embassies scattered around Equestria. The inside joke of messengers is 'The Post is Always Late.' Unfortunately for the government of Gryphus, somegriffon from way back in the annals of time took off with this phrase and said, 'The post is always late, so don't worry.' From that day forward, messengers have been jokingly using it as an excuse to take it easy and see the sights. Sadly, the novelty was lost on Gilda.

Finished with her once-over of her wings, Gilda hopped off the bed onto the cloud floor and made her way through the dark room to the door. Before leaving, she glanced at the clock. The digitized number 4:30 glared back in an accusing red light. The letters “MON” were displayed in smaller text in the bottom right, but with no less venom.

“Waking world my ass, the sun ain't even up yet!”

Mondays were not Gilda's favorite due to the long haul flight that would take up her entire day. The flight would span from Cloudsdale all the way to the Gryphus main embassy in Manehatten, then to the Castle's front gate in Canterlot, then back to Cloudsdale just in time for sunset and for a zombified Griffon to crawl back into bed. Gilda's weekly Manehatten to Canterlot journey, not counting the extra miles to and from Cloudsdale, was one of the longest flights for Royal Gryphus. Second only to the trans-ocean route to Gryphus, which was about twice the length on a round trip.

Gilda made her way into the living area of her small cloud home. Like most cloud homes, this one was designed with a large living area in the center, with rooms arrayed in a semicircular fashion around the perimeter. Flipping on a light switch revealed the living area and its attached kitchen. The Griffon sauntered over to the small bathroom, but stopped to give a glare at her study. The study, unlike the rest of the bluish white cloudstruction, had walls lined with bookshelves and a green carpet to give a more cozy feel. The desk was littered with writing utensils and loose papers. Gilda regretfully frowned at this.

'My pony research, the true reason why I’m in Equestria.'

Sparing only a moment of her time, Gilda continued into the bathroom. After emerging a few minutes later with the crust out her eyes, the Bald Eagle Griffon headed for her kitchen to get a small snack, which in this case was a cup of lukewarm coffee and a stale biscuit. Gilda took a quick glance at the map that was magnetized to the fridge while gnawing down the tough bread and using the coffee to soften the blow. After finishing breakfast and downing the coffee, Gilda set the mug on the table and grabbed her black leather jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. Slotting her wings through the allotted holes with practiced ease, Gilda then slipped her fore-limbs into the sleeves.

Standing on her hind legs, Gilda got her brown letter satchel with the Gryphus Crest stitched to its side and threw the strap over her head and onto her right shoulder — and the bag under her left arm. While fiddling with the strap to make sure the bag wouldn't interfere with the action of her wings, Gilda went to the fridge and got her mid flight meal, a lemon flavored sports drink and a plastic wrapped veggie sub, and stuffed them into the bottom of the satchel. Gilda took a final glance at the clock and found herself ready to go to work. She had set a very finite time schedule of waking at 4:30, out the door by 5, be in Manehatten by noon Eastern Equestrian Time, and to Canterlot by 5 PM Central. After that, Gilda was off the clock for the rest of the week.

After turning out the light, Gilda opened the front door and entered the lamp lit street. With breath turned to mist in the cool morning air, Gilda looked up to see the first twinge of purplish light in the eastern sky. As diurnal predators, Griffon eyes were specifically attuned for daylight hours, with emphasis on distant viewing and color distinction. As a result, it was uncommon for Griffons to fly at night under anything less then a full moon.

“Perfect, right on schedule.”

On the back of the mail satchel was a secondary strap. Gilda stretched out her wings and wrapped the strap around her body, securing the bag in place. Gilda then checked her pockets for her house keys and the hard case of her aviators, not wanting to burn her retinas out on another beautiful sunrise. After checking for sunglasses and locking the front door, Gilda went out into the middle of the street.

Unlike her ex-friend Rainbow Dash, Gilda followed the rules and scanned the skies and roadway for Ponies before taking off. It was legal for Ponies to take off directly from the street during nighttime and other low traffic hours. Any other time they would have to use one of the many “Launchpad” pavilions scattered around the city. It was Rainbow Dash's unconscious disregard of the rules and other Ponies which quickly made her, and by extension, Gilda — very popular with the local authorities. This ultimately forced the former to leave for Ponyville.

'I stopped you doing that after you got caught and the judge sentenced us both to community service for three months!' Gilda didn't try to fight the scowl on her beak. 'Kept you grounded, then you left for Lameville like that Butterfly Pony. Musta' thought I was smothering you or sumthin'.'

Gilda shook the memory out of her head and oriented herself to face down the street. The lamps that lined either side of the street were used as makeshift guideposts for Gilda's takeoff run. She started walking a slow pace down the street, then sped up to a pace known in Equestria known as a 'trot'. Gilda shivered at the prospect of trotting like a Pony. Luckily for Gilda, her street was generally empty at this hour, because Celestia forbid, if anypony saw the tough as nails Griffon trot...

'They might get the wrong idea and think I have a creepy fetish or somethin'.'

Without losing any momentum, Gilda fell into a crouch and coiled the muscles in her back legs. With an almighty thrust, Cloudsdale was shoved downwards and a Griffon fell into the sky. Gilda's wings began to work with the air, each powerful stroke bringing her higher above the city. Other ponies were just starting to fill the Cloudsdale airspace, with most of them heading to the Weather Factory for work, as did Gilda for a stint. After Junior Speedsters, Gilda found herself alone and abandoned in an alien country. Seeing a friend in need, Rainbow Dash invited the Griffon into her home. But Gilda was still coping with the rejection by her kind.

It turned out that Spectrum, Rainbow Dash's father, was a senior plant manager, and seeing Gilda start to lapse into depression firsthoof, offered the Griffon a job at the Weather Factory. Gilda fiercely objected to the charity, stating that it wasn't the Griffon way and that she didn't have anything of equal value to barter. She eventually came to the conclusion that simply being a good employee was worth its weight in gold to the elder Pegasus, and only then, did Gilda take Spectrum up on his offer. True to her word, Gilda became the best employee she could be, even respected by the more senior employees. And the job, plus hanging out with Dash after work occupied enough of Gilda's time to keep her out of despondency. Sadly, this would not last.

Unfortunately, Gilda was only a de facto employee, and as such was only a placeholder until somepony more qualified was found for the job. And at the start of the next hiring period, Spectrum had to make a painful cut to his staff. Gilda would be terminated, but on the condition that she could choose her successor from a pool of job seekers, with unexpected results. Gilda and Spectrum could have petitioned against the former's termination, but at the end of the day its very hard to argue with a Cutie Mark.

After gaining enough altitude, Gilda banked away from Cloudsdale and headed due east. With Cloudsdale quickly disappearing behind, Gilda did a very routine navigational check. To her south were the foothills of the Unicorn Range. In the southeast was the snow-capped Mount Equus, the orange sunrise lighting it up like a torch. Behind was Cloudsdale, And the east brought pain to Gilda's eyes. Not wasting another second, the Griffon pulled out her shades and relived her eyes of the glare. Stretching out below and to the north was the breadbasket of Equestria, nothing but rolling farmland as far as Gilda's eyes could see.

As the sun trudged further into the sky, Gilda focused on flying as efficiently as possible, using the thermal updrafts to their fullest potential. After doing this for a few hours, Gilda reached the Crystal River crossing. Just ahead was where the Vanhoover-Manehatten line turned toward the latter city after dog-legging northeast out of Canterlot. This was also another navigation point for Gilda, all she had to do was follow the tracks. Looking around once more, she could faintly make out the mist of Neighagra Falls to the north, and the Foal Mountains in the south. A puff of steam in the east caught Gilda's attention.

The steam came from a train trundling down the tracks — heading due west. Even from her position a few thousand feet up, Gilda could still make out the train in good detail as it passed under. Being a creature of the sky, Gilda felt some misplaced pity for the ponies that needed to travel by ground based means. The sharp whistle, though dulled by the altitude, hit Gilda's ears. Being careful to not lose her sunglasses, Gilda glanced down to see one of the Ponies operating the train lean out the window with his hat off, waving. Without much thought, Gilda rocked her wings in the traditional Pegasi salute, her “cool” image forgotten for the moment. The pony apparently saw this because he put his conductor hat back on and retreated into his cab. The neutral look on Gilda's face darkened to a small frown after this.

“Ugh, I'm acting like a dweeb more everyday,” Gilda lamented, knowing full well that her plastic facade had been steadily melting ever since losing Rainbow Dash's favor.

Gilda was spared anymore thought by the tearing winds of turbulence, pulling her around the sky. After the brief shock and stabilizing her flight, Gilda put concentration back into her wings and powered through the wind shear. After several altitude adjustments, the Griffon found a smooth spot in the air. Gilda saw that she was now flying over the low mountains where the rail line dove into a tunnel, beyond this were the outer boroughs of Manehatten. After passing over the hills, Gilda began her descent towards the island.. From below Gilda all the way to the ocean was the outer borough of New Yoke City. And, connected to the mainland via the aptly named Manehatten Bridge, was the city of dreams. And it disgusted Gilda to no end.

New Yoke was one of the first settlements founded by the Three Tribes as they descended out of the northeast into the new land of Equestria. After settling in the area, the representatives of each tribe voted to make the town the Equestrian capitol. New Yoke stayed this way from its inception up till after the Griffon war and the coming of the Celestials, when the capitol was moved inland for safety in the future. After that land developers began looking at the unpopulated island and saw a great place for a dockyard and a naval base. This was the first iteration of Manehatten. It's current form, however, was by far the most ambitious.

Knowing that she had time to kill Gilda decided it was time for lunch. Placing her shades on top of her head, Gilda fished her snack out of the bottom of the satchel, setting the items in between her outstretched legs. When Gilda first started this job, she quickly found out that her satchel, when exposed to cold air at altitude, made an excellent cooler for snacks. Picking up and unwrapping the sub, Gilda nibbled off a corner of the sandwich. While eating, Gilda tried to at least appreciate the metropolitan skyline. Most of the buildings either didn't capture the patience of the Griffon, or were just too hard to look at. The only one that did catch Gilda's eye was the Art Deco skyscraper that used to be the tallest before horse head took its rightful place.

Once done eating, Gilda popped the top off her drink and took a swig of the sour nectar contained within. At the sound of the rooftop entrance opening Gilda hopped up onto her back legs, being careful not to spill her drink in the process. One of the many embassy workers, a small Peregrine Falcon Griffon. Made his way towards Gilda. The aforementioned Griffon got ready to finally leave the overdone city for another week, but immediately fell stale when she saw the bailiff's empty talons. Seeing this, Gilda gave a look that screamed “where is it” which the bailiff easily picked up on.

“My apologies, ma'am, the cargo is still being printed up. I should be back with it in about fifteen... ah, here we go.”

Gilda followed the bailiff's gaze into the sky to see a turquoise Pegasus with a flaming copper mane coming in to land. Gilda guessed that this was her Equestrian counterpart by the Celestial Crest on her saddlebags. Once the Royal Messenger touched down, Gilda got a good look at her flank. Emblazoned on it was a talent mark comprised of a lightning bolt with three golden stars below it. Without an actual name to go by, Gilda simply dubbed the Pony Lightning Strike. As the bailiff tended to the new arrival, Gilda unknowingly put on her old, “cool” persona. She paid little attention to the small talk between the Griffon and Pegasus. Instead, Gilda began fussing over her long feather crest, making sure they were at their awesome best. Once the bailiff finished up with the Pony and went back inside Gilda began to pay attention to what the Pony was saying.

“Aw yeah!” the pony cheered. “Five hours flat! I bet I'm the fastest Pegasus in Equestria! Maybe the whole planet.”

Gilda emitted an almost audible gasp at this.

'Celestia, she's just like her!'

Gilda began to take a liking to this brash Pegasus, But her mind stopped this notion dead.

'Why don't you go find some new, cool friends someplace else.'

This hit Gilda, hard enough to drive tears into her eyes. Her grip relaxed, almost dropping her drink and letting the plastic wrapper in the other talon fly off into the sky. Bleary eyes noticed that Lightning Strike had moved over to an alcove by the entrance with a few vending machines. Seeing the pony occupied with her purchase, Gilda began furiously scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her talon. 'What's going on! I've never cried over Dash before. Why now?' Gilda glumly thought while trying to salvage her facade, but it was mostly damage control at this point.

Seeing Lightning Strike hobble away from the vending machine with her purchase in hoof caused Gilda to quickly throw her sunglasses over her eyes. Gilda was a Griffon, and as a griffon, she could not let a pony see her cry. With acting “cool” out the window, Gilda adopted her second persona, callous indifference. With a flat expression and a thousand yard stare, she would fend off anything thrown her way. And if that failed, Gilda had a leather jacket and avaitors to back her up. This wouldn't be the case, however, if the hooves clopping closer were any indication. Outwardly, Gilda looked like she just didn't care. Things were different on the inside.

'Go away, go away, go away, go away,' Gilda chanted in her mind to the sound of each hooffall, hoping to will away the Rainbow Dash knockoff. At the same time, she silently hoped that she would be rescued by a binder full of diplomatic cables that needed a ride to Canterlot. The pony arrived at the rail and placed her front legs over the top. She wasn't too close as to be annoying, but close enough to know what would happen next.

“Wassup.”

If Gilda wasn't frustrated now, then she was downright charitible. With an audible clack, Gilda slammed the cap onto her bottle and screwed it shut with deliberate twisting motions. If anything, this only enticed the pony to press the issue.

“Geez, what's got you all rattled?” The pony shifted positions, mirroring Gilda's posture. “I hope its not me,” she muttered.

'Naw, it couldn't possibly be you,' Gilda thought with a heavy snark.

“No its just,” Gilda scratched at her eye. “The bright... buildings? Yeah, the buildings are bright,” Gilda nodded.

The pony took a tone of mock-offense. “What's wrong with the buildings?”

“Hm, what's wrong with the buildings? Maybe its that Griffons used to own this island. Then after the war it was given to Equestria. And they honor them by putting a gigantic horse's head on a skyscraper.”

“A gigantic horse head! What are you talking about?”

The pony followed Gilda's outstretched talon to the eyesore.

“Well that's new.”

“Yeah, so...”

Gilda fell silent, wondering why the heck she was even conversing with this pony. Lightning Strike, as it were, was busy examining the horse head.

“Dang, that head is huge. I hope that's not what the owner looks like!”

Gilda gave out a hearty guffaw. “I would hope not, because that's one ugly dude.”

After sharing a laugh, the pony extended her wing. Gilda met this with an arched eyebrow.

“Ah shoot! I was schooled about this. Here.” she extended a foreleg.

Gilda tentatively hovered out a talon, then very slowly wrapped her digits around the hoof.

“Hoo kay,” the pony shook the talon. “Name's Lightning Dust.”

“Gilda.”

A pregnant silence befell the duo, only to be broken a second later.

“So... Gilda?”

“What?”

“Well, you're probably the first Manehattenite that's ever told me the island's deep secret.”

“Who said I was from Manehatten.”

“I kinda took a guess by your accent.”

This time it was Gilda that took the offended tone.

“What's wrong with my accent?”

Lightning Dust fidgeted nervously. “Um nothing, nothing at all. Its actually kinda nice.”

“Hold on,” Gilda held up a halting talon. “Let me get this straight. First your on me about the buildings, and now your on me about my accent. I see how it is.”

Lightning Dust decided that a change of subject was in order.

“Say, since you're delivering to Canterlot and I happen to live there, we should make the trip as a wing. Ya with me!”

“Uh... sure,” Gilda awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “We're headed the same way so it makes sense, right?”

Lightning Dust stared blankly at Gilda's forced smile, then brightened up with a smile of her own.

“Exactly.”

The sound of the rooftop doors sliding open caught the attention of the mares. The same Griffon from earlier made his way toward the duo.

“Sorry about the wait, ma'am. Here, let me load you up.”

Lightning Dust hid her snickering behind a hoof as the embassy worker filled Gilda's satchel with the missives from Gryphus. Once he had deposited the documents, the nameless Griffon wished them well before disappearing back into the embassy. Gilda finished off the rest of her drink and made to throw the bottle away, but was stopped by the mare that was giggling like a lunatic beside her.

“What the heck is so funny!” Gilda snarled.

Lightning Dust did her best to speak through her chortling. “Load you up!”

Gilda developed a look of pure confusion at this.

“Load you up...” Then it clicked.

“Ugh, whatever!”

Gilda stalked away from Lightning Dust's annoying horse laugh and threw her empty bottle in a nearby recycle bin. Then she went over to the Pegasi recovery deck that jutted out from the side of the building. Checking that her cargo was secure, Gilda spread her wings and simply fell forward off the deck. Once she caught some air, Gilda craned her head around to see Lightning Dust gallop off the platform in some sort of flying leap.

About an hour later Gilda found herself over the forest community of Hollow Shades. But she was too irritated to care about the scenery. Gilda didn't know if it was the extra weight slowing her down, the way the lapels of her jacket rustled in the wind, or the turquoise horsefly following just off her wing.

“So at that point I was like, what's the quickest way to clear clouds — then it hit me! I would use a tornado! So I says to my wingpony...”

Gilda didn't pay much attention to Lightning Dust's rambling epic about her time at flight academy — instead she focused on simply getting the lane trip over with. Meanwhile, Lightning Dust's story continued unabated.

“I was in the funnel and my wingpony must have been carrying to much speed, because I began losing it. I remember calling out, then the tornado spat me out — and my wingpony shortly after. It was the worst spin-out ever, I barely recovered in time.” Lightning paused and took a shaking breath. “As I spun uncontrollably down, I saw her get ejected from the funnel — and with nopony to control it... And for some insane reason, a hot-air balloon just happened to stray into our restricted airspace.”

Gilda began paying close attention to the mare who was now wildly gesticulating with her fore-limbs.

“At this point my wingpony, who I had lost sight of, shot after the occupants of the balloon. They had been ejected from the tornado and were in freefall. I tried to join the other Pegasi in the rescue attempt, but I just couldn't fly anymore. Every time I tried to lift off, my wings faltered. It reminded me of a parent biting a foal's tail to prevent them from running off.” She gave a long, drawn-out sigh before continuing. “It was like my body no longer wanted to put up with my recklessness.”

“So I just stood there as the ponies fell, trying to get my wings to work. My wingpony by this time had made it below the ponies and was compacting a cloud layer to stop their fall. It must have worked, because they hit the cloud and bounced up into the waiting arms of the rescuers.” Gilda saw the expression on Lightning Dust's face morph into a sad smile. “I felt so much relief to see them saved that my wings began to work and I looped in joy. I flew over to the group of ponies while coming up with some kind of explanation, but I didn't know what I was getting into. It turned out that the balloonists were friends of my wingpony, and had come to visit her. If I had known this, I don't think I would have acted so horribly.”

Lightning's voice dropped to a whisper.

“That's how I got kicked out the academy.”

Gilda mulled over everything about Lightning Dust's story. It seemed Lighting, much like Gilda, had used a rotten personality in her life that ultimately got her nowhere.

'Almost makes me feel sorry for her. I'm still irritated by her though, but I can put up with it.'

Until Lightning spoke again, any sorrow or remorse strangely missing.

“You want to hear about how yours truly became a royal — Ack!”

Lightning Dust squawked in displeasure as Gilda aggressively flared her wings, dragging herself down to a full stop. Lightning Dust deftly evaded and came to a rest next to Gilda.

“What's the deal with the brake-checking, dude!” the pony shouted.

Gilda slowly took off her sunglasses and put them back in their hard case, which she pocketed.

Sigh — “look, Lightning Strike-”

“It's Dust! Lightning Dust!” she protested.

Gilda grabbed her own forehead with a talon. “Fine, Lightning Dust. When you first came by me on the deck, I did what I was supposed to do and put on a friendly face.” Lightning Dust scoffed at this. “I only agreed to be your wing because it would be awkward not to.”

“Just what are you saying?”

“I just — I don't think I'm ready for another Pony friend yet.”

“Oh, what were they like?”

Lighting couldn't see it through the feathers, but a vein was pulsing above Gilda's eye..

“Gods give me strength,” Gilda groaned. “Alright, how about this. I challenge you to a race.” Gilda pointed a talon at herself. “If I win, you have to leave me be forever. No talking, no friendship, no nothing. If we run into each other on our runs, you pretend I don't exist, got it!”

“Hm,” Lightning stroked her muzzle with a hoof. “A race you say? And if you win, you get left alone.”

Gilda nodded an affirmative.

“You're on, but only if the loser has to become friends with the winner.”

“Sure,” Gilda agreed, not fully comprehending the wager. Gilda pointed to a cloud high in the sky to the west, specifically chosen because it suited her natural climbing ability. “That cloud will be the finish line.”

“On three, one, two — three!”

Gilda watched with mild amusement as Lightning Dust shot upward into a climb towards the cloud. Gilda opted to get as much speed as possible before beginning her climb. Gilda utilized a strong tailwind coming off of the rugged peaks of the Foal Mountains to gain even more speed. Once she had enough, Gilda pointed her beak skyward and quickly ascended into the heavens. Strong wings acted like giant air scoops as powerful strokes pulled the Griffon ever higher. Up above and slightly behind was Lightning Dust, who at this point had lost all her energy and was now struggling to reach the cloud. Gilda, however, had no trouble making up the altitude difference.

With an assurance of victory, Gilda punched through the cloud and touched her back legs down onto its surface. Seeing the Griffon win still didn't deter Lightning Dust from at least finishing the race. Gilda watched with an impish grin as the panting Pegasus pulled herself onto the cloud. Despite her loss, Lightning still had a cheeky smile on her face as she looked up at the larger victor.

Gasp — “I must have gotten out of shape in my downtime.”

Gilda had her talons firmly placed on her hips as she regarded the Pegasus.

“And just what are you still doing here,” Gilda glared.

Lightning Dust's grin didn't falter. “Its only good taste for the loser to finish the race.”

“Yeah, but why are you still here?”

“The wager was that the loser had to befriend the winner.”

“Dude, I don't know what planet your on, but I won. And the winner gets to be left alone.”

Lightning Dust went in for the kill.

“But the loser-” Lighting let the word hang, “has to become friends with the winner.” Lightning Dust pointed a hoof at herself. “And I lost.”

Gilda lost the ability to work her beak, and the stonewall expression she maintained began to sag uncontrollably.

Lightning continued on. “ So as your new-” Lightning gave a dramatic bow, “honorary pony friend, your wish is my command. If you want to be left alone, so be it.”

At this point, Gilda had fallen completely silent, with only one thought in her head.

'How did I fall for that.'

“So, what is your command?” Lightning asked the brain dead Griffon. She waved a hoof in front of Gilda's face.”He-llo, anypony home.”

“Ugh!” Gilda waved the hoof out of her face. “Knock it off!”

Lighting Dust continued to stare questioningly.

“Let's just get to Canterlot.”

“Sounds like a plan, Gil.”

“Then I'm going home!”

The sun had already started its descent when Gilda and Lightning rolled into the outskirts of Canterlot. The Castle, Gilda's destination, overlooked the city from its lofty perch on the mountain. Lightning pointed down towards the suburbs below.

“That's where I'm from,” Lightning stated. “Boring, I know.”

“Uh huh,” Gilda grunted.

“Well, I'll just let you be. Unless you need my help finding the castle, of course.”

“I can handle myself, Da — I mean Dust.”

“Cool.” Lightning turned away but came back a second later. “Oh yeah, If we're flying like this next week, you're telling the sob story.”

“Oh har har,” Gilda emitted a sarcastic laugh. “Very funny, don't expect an epic like your academy tale, though.”

“Alright,” Lightning turned away for the final time. “See you next week!”

Once Lightning Dust peeled off towards wherever home was, Gilda made the final hop to the Castle Gates. She landed at the open portcullis and waited for the guards to retrieve the mail. One of the guards approached Gilda, but said something completely unexpected.

“The Princess has requested your presence,” the guard said in their all to formal tone.

“Come again?”

“The Princess has requested your presence,” The guard repeated.

“Did she say why?”

“No ma'am, just said to retrieve you. Follow me.”

'I could run, but I would only be safe until I fell asleep.'

Gilda contemplated dropping her satchel and flying away, but decided it would be wise to just follow instead. As the guard led Gilda through the courtyard and into the castle proper, she began feeling a sense of deja vu. A faint memory of being here with her parents on royal business scratched at the back of Gilda's mind. As they moved down the hall, Gilda averted her eyes away from the stained glass window — which contained, among other things, Rainbow Dash.

'I wonder why they want me. Maybe they want to off me before I tattle, not like I'm lame enough to do so.” Gilda had a particularly scary thought. 'Or they want to turn me into — Gasp — a pony so they can legally look inside my head.'

“Here we are.”

Gilda stopped to see the door to Princess Celestia's private study.

“Is there anything special I have to do? Do I have to bow?”

'Please don't tell me I have to bow!'

“You can just be casual on this visit.”

'I can be casual — alright, now I'm scared.'

The guard gave a light rap on the door before opening. Gilda followed the armored stallion inside to see Princess Celestia hunched over a too small desk — working on her daily business as Equestria's ruler.

“Ah, Gilda,” she greeted the Griffon in her usual comforting tone. “You can hand your cables to the guard.”

Gilda opened her satchel and pulled out the heavy binders, which the guard expertly balanced between his wing roots. “You're dismissed,” Celestia told her guard.

The stallion closed the door behind himself — leaving Gilda alone with Celestia in her study. Seeing that the Princess was busy scratching at her documents — and unlikely to stop anytime soon, Gilda's eyes wandered the room. The only thing in the room that truly caught her was the other avian sharing the room. Celestia's pet Phoenix stirred on her perch, cawing softly at the Griffon in her space.

“I heard you had a visitor last night.”

Gilda immediately settled on the Princess. “Yeah?” she growled. “And what of it?”

Celestia dropped her quill into an inkwell and cleared the desk of documents, stacking them neatly on the side.

“My sister, bless her heart,” she began. “After her “cleansing” by the elements, Luna has had difficulty adjusting to modern society. Some things carry over quite easily through the centuries, but many things — are lost in translation.” Celestia got on her hooves and went to retrieve something from a filing cabinet. “Her dream-walking ability can be used for good, and bad. But time only remembered one of those traits.”

“Look Princess,” Gilda began. “Its not something I'm gonna lose sleep over — I mean, I'm not bothered too much by it.”

“That's good to hear, but it's not the reason why I have summoned you.”

“So why did you summon me?”

Celestia sat back down at the desk with a stack of yellowed scrolls hovering beside her.

“To talk about you.”

Gilda unconsciously backed up a step. “Wha... m-me? You must have the wrong Griffon.”

“I'm sure I have the right Griffon.”

“And what about me do you want to know?”

Celestia sighed. “What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?”

“One of these might be able to clarify,” Celestia began to rifle through the stack of papers. “I have a student in Ponyville,” she said as she worked. “She's a good kid, but a bit of a shutout. I have her send a correspondence whenever she discovers something profound about friendship.” Celestia pretended to not notice Gilda's eye roll. “Here,” Celestia handed Gilda a paper. “Read.”

'What is this, a love letter?'

“Dearest Princess Celestia. Today, I learned that its hard to accept when somepony you like wants to spend time with somepony who's not so nice...”

Gilda trailed off, her expression hardening the further down she read. Once done, she slammed her talon down on the hardwood desk. Gilda felt righteous indignation burn inside her chest, then disappear as quickly as it came — leaving an uncaring feeling behind.

“A false friend, huh. Is that all I am to you dash?”

Celestia spoke softly. “That may or may not be true. But this is only one of many opinions expressed that day. If that is what Rainbow truly thinks of you, we may never know.”

“Well, Princess. Maybe what happened is that my best friend — who I hadn't seen in years — decided it would be fun to throw a sham party for me when I would have been happy with just hanging out. Maybe it was Pinkie Pie unable to take a hint. Maybe its the fact that I couldn't keep my job at the weather factory because I didn't have a goddamn cutie mark!” Gilda's fiery voice dropped to a whisper. “Or maybe its because I was left to fend for myself by my parent's and Grizelda. Why am I telling you this! You don't care.

“Oh?”

Celestia reached into the pile of letters once again, pulling out a piece of college ruled notebook paper. “This mar change your outlook.”

Gilda grabbed the letter and began to read, slow realization creeping onto her features. It was the letter Gilda sent to Celestia when she was first dumped in Equestria. The one in which she spilled her guts about her situation and how she felt about it. Gilda's beak began to quiver.

“Y-you actually read this?” Gilda asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

“Of course.”

“B-but, I-I... it was your response.”

“And do you remember what my response was.”

Gilda racked her brain. “Not offhand no.”

Celestia nodded. “I see.”

“Well, Gilda, you can consider that my barter.”

“Huh?”

“Showing you that letter carried some weight. Do you not have something equal to offer?”

Gilda took a glance around the room. “I suppose I do. Its not much though.” Gilda sat down. “When I was a cub, I used to be a big fan of ponies. I knew all sorts of crazy pony facts, I was even friends with a group of colts and fillies at my school — until she came.” Celestia's questioning gaze signaled Gilda to continue. “Grizelda was a perfect Griffon, prideful, brash, rude... hated ponies — and that made her very popular very fast. One day, she found out that I was friends with the ponies and gave me two choices. Either I stick with the ponies and face complete humilation, or I join her little clique.” Celestia frowned, knowing where this story was going. “After that day, all the ponies looked at me like I was Grizelda.”

“A few years later it was finals, and the clique decided to intentionally fail the Equestrian Society test. Now this was fairly common, students would get good grades in other fields so they wouldn't get held back. Accept I had been falling behind in several classes. And in order to not flunk, I need an incredibly good grade on the test. I got an A+ with extra credit. This did not go over well with Grizelda. After that, my parents sent me to flight camp for the summer. Before I left, Grizelda taunted me, said they wouldn't let me back in. I didn't believe this until I was given an envelope after camp with a task and a key to a house in Cloudsdale.”

“And out of spite, you didn't try to learn any thing from ponies?” Celestia asked

Gilda nodded.

“Then that's all I need from you.”

Gilda looked out the window, and to her shock, saw the slanted rays of sunset. “Shit!” Gilda exclaimed. “ I got to get going.”

“Indeed.”

Celestia walked to her window and opened it, exposing the balcony. “You can take off from here.”

Gilda quickly brushed passed and readied for takeoff, but stopped at Celestia's voice.

“Instead of telling griffons a story about ponies, you should tell ponies a story about Griffons.”

A few hours later found Gilda in her least favorite room, her study. She had drawers pulled out while looking for a piece of paper. Once found, Gilda read it, muttering the suggestion over and over.

“Tell a story about griffons, tell a story about griffons...”

Gilda began to giggle softly as she cleared her desk of loose papers. Then, she began pulling books off the shelves.

Gilda had a story to pen.