The next morning, Icarus had the task of explaining why a mysterious griffon from his past was in his inn. Guests he could have easily handled. His eldest niece? Not so much. “He just ‘found’ Kestrel?’” Cetan asked, her voice incredulous. The sun was just beginning to rise, its golden glow shining into the inn, and Icarus’ guests were either still sleeping or beginning to rise, leaving Icarus with no ways out.

Cetan kept glancing nervously at Simurgh, who twiddled his thumbs at the front of the bar, an innocent grin on his face. Icarus, who was searching through a variety of stores, paused to look at Cetan. “He’ll play nice, no matter how coincidental he may seem.”

Cetan scowled. “How can you be certain? For all you know, he could be a pirate.” She nodded towards the missing fingers on his talons. “How do you know he didn’t lose those during, say, piracy?”

“I cut them off in a bet with your father,” Simurgh commented. “Icarus will vouch for that.”

Cetan looked like a fish for a moment, her beak simply hanging open. She waved an incredulous talon at Simurgh, who gave the impression that he was trying hard to contain his amusement. Icarus sighed and stood up from his search, bringing up a piece of fruit as he did so. “He’s staying here, at least for the time being. For now, he’ll be a good guest. I’ve put him on the top floor.”

Simurgh grinned as a pair of griffons came down the stairs, chatting amiably. When they noticed him, they waved, a gesture which he quickly returned. After they had walked out, Simurgh turned to Icarus. “You know, we probably should have realized that we could have made a fortune just serving food and possessing board. Certainly would have made us more than we did while sailing.”

“Very funny,” Icarus snorted, passing a plate of food to Simurgh before turning back to his niece. “Look, don’t worry about him, Cetan. He was my captain once, and he never did us wrong then. He’ll be fine. I doubt that you’ll even run into him that much. Consider him another boarder.”

“Generally, they leave before the month is up. I have no idea how long this fellow will be here.”

Icarus raised an eyebrow as he looked at Simurgh. Simurgh shrugged. “No clue. Aegle’s down by Procella. I might have told her to pick me up with she ran into anything interesting. Or vice versa. So I’m in here until either of us runs into anything worthwhile.” He leaned back in his chair, letting out a slightly irritated puff. “We were planning on charting some new territories, but the Oracle Union has done a good job of messing that up. Them and pretty much every bit of trouble in the east.”

Cetan gave her uncle an incredulous look. “I’ve got to go, but I really want some answers to all of this. I really do. And I swear, if he takes off before I get my answers, I’ll take it up with father. I’m certain that he’d like to know about Simurgh being here.”

Simurgh raised an eyebrow as he cast a wary look at Icarus. “She’s an informant?”

Icarus snorted and motioned for Cetan to go. “Nothing quite so dirty. She’s on good terms with her family members. Unlike certain griffons.” Cetan made her way out, slinging her bag of papers of her shoulder as she went. The door swung shut with a loud bang, and Icarus turned back to Simurgh. “I hope you’re coming to the celebration tomorrow.”

“What’s it for?” Simurgh asked between bites, finally wolfing down his food now that Cetan had vanished.

“Grover’s coming back.”

There was a loud clatter as Simurgh’s fork fell from his grip. The griffon’s maimed talons had paled, like burnt wood that was beginning to crumble. “Grover? As in the uniter of the clans? The guy who, supposedly, went beyond the edge of the world? Fought Aeolus, the Stormlord, and came back alone?”

“You bet he is,” Rook said. The pair turned to face the captain, who had just opened the door and entered, his feathers in a disheveled mess. “Grover, arguably the greatest warrior, navigator, scholar and uniter of this day and age.”

“Rook,” Icarus said, his voice stern, “you could do better not listening in on conversations from the behind the door.”

“Schematics,” Rook said, reaching into his purse as he approached. “Grover’s going to be here. I can be as bloody disrespectful as I want.” He turned to Icarus, tossing a handful of coins onto the table. “I’m hungry. Nothing against Flora’s cooking, but I have to put up with it for months on end. I think that unicorn’ll understand if I want something different for a change.”

Icarus nodded and began rummaging once more in his barrels, beginning to prepare another meal. Before long, the smell of eggs, non-griffon, began to fill the air. “I take it you’ve not told anyone?”

Rook pulled up a chair, placing his black paws against one side of Icarus bar. He spread his talons in a gesture of mild amusement. “You asked me not to. I’m good to my word. Although,” he commented, leaning close to Simurgh, a conspiratorial smile on his face, “I’d absolutely love to hear your story. Things always get more interesting when a stranger arrives in town.”

“What are you lunatics talking about now?” Caladrius came down the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His tail dragged along the ground, like it was still asleep. “It’s barely morning and here you are talking about strangers coming to town.”

“There’s only so many topics of conversation,” Rook pointed out.

“Forget it,” Caladrius muttered, making his way out of inn. “Save my room. I’ll be staying here tonight. Probably.”

“See you then.” Icarus turned back to Simurgh and Rook, but was cut off before he could speak as more griffons began to make their way down the stairs, either chatting amongst themselves or simply waiting. They left in singles or pairs, most of them stopping to make a renewal on their stay or simply to let him know that they wouldn’t be back tonight.

Rook watched the tide of griffons with a grin on his face, like a schoolboy watching a parade. He winked to Simurgh as they passed. “Let me tell you something: you haven’t seen anything yet. Grover will be here later today. And he’ll blow all of this out of the water.”

Simurgh gave the fellow black-feathered griffon a look, a mildly smug smile on his face. “Believe me. I look forward to it. But I’ve seen spectacle before. You get to see some things when you’re in the Reaches.”

A moment later, when the mass of griffons had ebbed, Rook gave his response. “Ooo!” He waggled his thick eyebrows. “You were off in the Reaches? Now that’s a story worth hearing.”

Simurgh sighed and returned to his food, only pausing to speak to Icarus. “Do you have a bouncer for this guy?”

“No.”

Simurgh groaned and turned back to Rook. “I’ll tell you later. That fair?”

Rook chuckled and actually leapt from his chair, his lithe form performing a mild twist so that he would land properly when his paws struck the ground near the door. “I’ll look forward to it.” He winked at the two of them and snuck out of the inn, the door barely creaking as he left.

“Could you tell me why you let him stay around?”

Icarus didn’t deign to respond, focusing his attention on preparing breakfast for the griffons who had decided to stay. Simurgh watched him work for a minute, finally beginning to take everything in. “So, um,” he trailed off as Icarus continued to work. “How much, exactly, has changed since I left?”

A slight snicker escaped Icarus lips. “In nineteen years? You’ve missed almost a quarter of a century back here. Although I assume you’ve kept up on the big stuff.”

“First king ever, apparent duel with something from ancient mythology, yup, I’m up to date on that.”

Simurgh couldn’t see his head, but he was certain that Icarus rolled his eyes. “Technically, he says that he made a deal with Aeolus, the Stormlord. Fought the Primordial or something like that, came out of it stronger. But yes, that’s accurate enough.”

Icarus pulled his head out of the barrel and tossed a piece of fruit to one of the griffons at the bar before turning to Simurgh. “And Aegle’s in Procella, yes?” Simurgh nodded, making Icarus frown. “Which means that it’s pretty much Griffonstone that you’re behind on, correct?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Icarus muttered something under his breath, but before he could say anything audible, Rook burst through the door of the inn. “Would you stop that!” Icarus snapped at Rook.

Rook gave the innkeeper an amiable grin. “I could, but I think you layabouts would be interested in hearing that Surprise is on the horizon.”

Rook barely had time to let out a surprised ‘oof’ before he was plowed over by the remaining patrons. Leftover dust that Icarus had missed was thrown into the air, which promptly settled on the, currently splayed, Rook as the inn was abandoned.

Icarus followed the mob, but at a significantly slower pace. He knelt down by the door, helping the captain to his feet. Simurgh approached, his expression puzzled. “‘Surprise?’”

“Grover’s ship,” Rook managed to say with a chuckle, although it was closer to a cough. “Icarus,” he said as he brushed himself off, “could you put up a no running sign?”

“You brought that upon yourself.”

Rook gave Icarus a rueful grin. “I guess so. You two want to come? I’ve had Nimbus save us a spot. I figure he can manage to let two more in.”

Icarus gave Simurgh a questioning look, to which the oily griffon responded, “Sure. I’d enjoy seeing the king. Never met him. Or seen him, for that matter. But I’d love a chance.”

Rook motioned for them to follow, which they did. The three of them made their way out of the inn, only pausing for Icarus lock the inn, as they stepped out into the streets of Griffonstone, where there were massive cheers sounding for the coming ship.

The streets were filled with cheering griffons. The mass of griffons were pressed, one against one, making navigating the treacherous mess dangerous. Some of the griffons floated above or watched from rooftops, like an army waiting for orders. Kestrel could be seen near the front of the crowd, her feathers practically bristling with excitement.

Surprise could be seen on the horizon, growing larger every moment. The first visible thing were the massive sails, which made The Bounty, arguably one of the biggest ships ever made, look like a child’s toy. The sun was rising behind it, making the scene feel all the more picturesque. The wind billowed in its sails, propelling it forward with tremendous speeds. As it advanced, it became more and more distinct. The most sharp-eyed of the griffons began to make out the massive sails first, followed soon thereafter by the crew, who were making themselves busy with the ship.

Rook tapped Simurgh lightly with one of his wings. “They’re a serious lot, Grover’s crew.”

Simurgh nodded but continued to focus his attention on the approaching ship. “So, where’s the famed king?” He watched the ship, waiting to see if someone would point it out to him.

But he didn’t have to wait. Standing at the bow of Surprise, a dark cape covering his darker-still feathers, stood a griffon who radiated authority. His cape billowed over his wings and back, and his face was split in a massive grin. Hanging on one side was a massive sword. Unlike most of the swords that griffon’s used, this one lacked the characteristic curve or the well-known thin blade. This sword's blade was thick, and was almost as long as Grover was. It was made of some crystalline metal, gleaming and pure.

There was a sharp bark from one of the griffon’s onboard Surprise as the ship approached the shore, and the ship’s crew made good time moving about the sails, tying ropes, covering unnecessary surface, all of it was set upon in an orderly fashion. The ship slowed to barely a crawl, and it turned so that its starboard side was facing the dock. Ropes were thrown onto the shore, quickly seized by the griffons and tied to nearby outcroppings. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

The cheer that was coming from the crowd of griffons was deafening at this point. Despite not being a native of Griffonstone, the king was well loved. Plus the de facto capital was now Griffonstone, so that had something to do with it.

While Grover’s crew had gathered silently behind him, a grinning Grover stood at the front of the party, his cloak finally beginning to settle down on his back. His green feathers were standing up in a spiky mass, like the spines of a dragon. His back paws were tapping against the deck in some pattern, like a tune only he could hear.Two griffons stood next to him, both of them smiling to one extent or another.

On his right stood Grace, his queen and mate, a wildly grinning griffon, her feathers giving her the impression of something between a hawk and a vulture. Her eyes were filled with glee, and much like her mate, a cloak sat on her back, albeit being significantly more tattered.

On his left, stood Iris, Grover’s runist and rumored to be one of the few griffons to have gone beyond the world’s edge with Grover. Her icy blue feathers were pressed flat against her head, although whether that was their natural state or the result of the wind was unclear to Simurgh. No cloak adorned her, and her icy smile sent shivers down the spines of many of the griffons there.

Simurgh raised an eyebrow as Surprise's crew began to unload the ship, Grover and Grace being the first to step off, with Iris shouting orders to the crew as they docked. He tapped Rook on one shoulder, making the captain turn to face him. “Hm?”

Simurgh nodded in the general direction of the king and queen. “How’d they meet?”

Rook’s jaw dropped open. After a few moments of sputtering, and Simurgh handedly pushing his mouth open, Rook managed to formulate some words. He waved his wings wildly as he spoke, almost hitting several of the griffons in the crowd. “You’ve… you’ve never heard that story?”

Simurgh watched the pair of them make their way through the cheering crowd, flanked by Iris, who’s frigid gaze cleared a path through the mob all on its own. He shook his head. “I’ve been out of the city for the past nineteen years. He got crowned, what, ten years ago?”

“Twelve,” Rook murmured, his gaze mirroring Simurgh’s. He locked eyes with Grover for a moment, giving the king a wink as he passed. Grover returned it, his grin growing ever wider every time he saw an old friend or long-time colleague. “Really? You don’t know the story?”

Simurgh shook his head, his mouth dry as he watched the king. “I know the basics. Aeolus, found that idol thingy, journeyed across the world, Zephyr, Notus, Boreas and Eurus, and some pirates. Is that correct?”

There was the unmistakable noise of Rook ramming his head into his talon. “That’s the barebones, yes. Grace was the captain he sailed with. Iris was one of the sailors. That a better explanation?”

“I suppose,” Simurgh said, still watching Grover. His eyes seemed unfocused, like he wasn’t fully noticing the king of the griffons standing less than a hundred feet from him. And, while Rook couldn’t have been certain, he thought he saw Simurgh’s feathers droop ever-so slightly.

Grover, Iris and Grace made their way past the throng of griffons to where Gabriel and the other minor griffon leaders stood. Rook watched them quietly, but his eyes kept darting towards Simurgh, who looked like a deer that had spotted a predator. He tapped his beak thoughtfully, diverting his full attention to Simurgh.

The griffons parted, forcing Rook and Simurgh to one side as they realized that Grover was coming their way. Simurgh’s ears pressed hard against his head, flattening till they were nigh invisible against his head. An expression of utmost panic crossed his face, and his tail stood out straight. “He’s right there,” Simurgh kept repeating to himself, a mantra that got quieter with every word, until it would have taken the eye of the hurricane for it to be heard. His mutilated talon was paling, looking more and more like the hands of a smoky ghost.

Rook’s eyes widened as Grover stopped in his walk, Gracen and Iris’ stopping behind him in deathly quiet. Grace leaned towards the king, murmuring something into his ear. Grover whispered something back, but it was too quiet for any to hear. Grace nodded and fell back, while Iris’ cold gaze swept around the crowd, drawing shivers from many of them.

For a moment, Rook could have sworn that Grover’s eyes held a speck of doubt in them as he looked around the crowd. The king’s normally grinning face was troubled; the massive sword at his side seemed to gleam, like it was waiting to be used. But the moment passed. Grover smiled ruefully, and he resumed making his way to where Gabriel, Shikra and Notus waited. The crowd resumed their cheering, like the fickle lot that griffons could be.

Grover turned to the crowd, motioning for them to quiet. At first, there were no silence. The cheers continued, most of them either unwilling or having failed to see Grover’s gesture. But then Iris made the gesture as well. Rook shuddered. That griffon had spent her life learning how to turn words into power. She had a way with words. Saying them- and not saying them.

“Friends,” Grover said, his quiet voice carrying far better than one could have expected, “it’s good to be back in Griffonstone.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, letting out screams of adoration for their king. Grover watched them with a bemused smile on his face, his surprisingly young features making him look like a schoolboy. He absentmindedly tapped the sword at his side, but it was a gesture with no malice in it. When the crowd had quieted, he continued speaking. “Princess Celestia, monarch of Equestria, sends her greetings. She acknowledges the new powers arising in the East, and she wishes us well with our business. But she also sends a guest.”

There was a shocked murmur from the crowd, which was once against silenced with the barest of gestures from Iris. Grover waved towards Suprise, where an unfamiliar face could be seen amongst the easily recognizable members of Grover’s crew. It was a pegasus.

“What?” One of the members of the crowd spoke, his high-pitched voice cutting through the silence like butter. Rook was unable to identify the speaker, but he was willing to be that everyone was thinking it, himself included.

Grover nodded towards the pegasus. “Admiral Fairy Flight, of the wonderbolts. She’s here on behalf of Celestia.”

“We just got united! What’s that alicorn doing meddling in our business?”

Iris took a step forward, her cold eyes gleaming. Rook was fairly certain that the runist knew who had spoken, even if he didn’t. But Grover motioned for her to stop. And she did so. That was the bit that always confused Rook. Everyone listened to Grover because they respected him—and he had been chosen by Aeolus, the Stormlord. Everyone listened to Iris because they didn’t know what she could do. So it was something of an odd choice for Iris to listen to Grover. All in the city knew that she had little reverence for the Stormlord or any of his four children, one of which Grover himself revered.

Grover nodded towards Admiral Fairy Flight, and the crowd swung round to take her in. The pegasus had a somewhat torn uniform on her back, probably the result of many years of service. Her yellow mane stood in sharp contrast with her red fur and blue uniform, making her look like a child’s color wheel. “Admiral Fairy Flight,” Grover continued, speaking slowly and a tiny bit firmer, “is here on business unrelated to our politics. However, you are to treat her with the respect you would give to any authority on official business. She is a guest and we are to treat her as such.”

There was a nervous murmur from those gathered, but they nodded. Grover gave them all a grateful nod. “Thank you. Now, if you will allow me, I have business to take care of with my governors,” he nodded to Shikra, Gabriel and Notus, “but I will look forward to hearing from all of you in the coming months. Thank you.”

He turned away, making his way down a back alley that had yet to be filled with griffons. Grace followed him, while the governors did their best to keep away the griffons. Iris gave them all a cold smile, and turned one of the carved rings on one of her talons, and she was gone. Simurgh pointed to where she had been standing, eyes wide. “Wha…”

Rook shrugged as the griffons began to disperse. “Iris is, most likely, one of the strongest runists currently living. She knows what she’s doing.”

Simurgh just stood there in silence, making Rook sigh. He made his way to Kestrel, who had stood there in awestruck silence all the while. “Come on, let’s go back to the inn. Icarus’ll kill me if I go off and gossip before getting you back.”

Gale made her way through Maelstrom’s streets, her head down. A white cloak and hood covered her body, making sure that none would recognize her. She doubted they would- Maelstrom was a city of thousands of years of proud, griffon history. She was barely twenty-nine. Compared to the city, she was a blink of the eye. But that didn’t matter. She could still do her duty.

A few of the griffons she passed cast her odd looks, but most of them ignored her. That was fine by her. The less trouble she encountered, the better. Her talons and paws tread lightly in the clouds that comprised the city’s base, reminding her of the days when, as a hatchling, she would play on her father's bed with her sisters. It was soft, but solid enough for her to walk safely. That was the beauty of Maelstrom. It was one of the few cloud cities that griffons possessed. She had heard that, back in Equestria, they had a city like this. Cloudsdale, it was called. She had often wondered if they were built by the same people.

Gale raised her head slightly as she turned a corner. Griffons were gathered in the streets, arguing with one another over shop prices, proper building regulations, everything that made the city tick. On all sides of the city, she could see ships docked around it, proving that Maelstrom, despite being near the edges of griffon territory, was still one of the most influential cities in the East.

A small smile graced Gale’s surprisingly youthful features. Aside from one scar running on the tip of her beak, she was unadorned by the typical hallmarks of her job; Gale was young, and some might say inexperienced, but she was a survivor. She slipped through the bustling crowd of griffons, her supple form letting her move like some amorphous blob, sliding through cracks and avoiding obstacles.

She continued to make turns that led her towards the city's center, where the city’s leaders were housed. It was a white tower, gleaming where it was carved from stone, and still beautiful where it was built from clouds. But that was a later goal. First, she had to deal with what lay outside. A massive wall, about twenty feet high, rose into the air. Ramparts sat on it, and griffons marched across them, a clear reminder that Maelstrom’s original purpose had not been forgotten. Thankfully, the wall had an obvious entrance.

A massive gate, forged from a metal that did not fit with the rest of the city, stood not far from her. Murder holes could be seen above it, from where griffons had once rained down attacks upon the less aerial oriented besiegers of the city. Now, due to Grover’s unity, there was far less war… but that hadn’t stopped the city from having its uses. Hence why Gale was here.

A quarter of armored griffons stood by the gate, wielding a variety of weapons, although curved swords seemed to be the fashion. Their dark armor reflected the rising sun off of them, which would have made them an impressive lightshow were it not for the time of day. Gale approached them, her hood still over her head. As expected, they weren’t going to let a visitor in without a fair bit of convincing.

The griffons’ leader stepped forward. He stood a good head taller than the rest, and his armor only accented his air of authority. It had a slightly darker hue, making him look closer to a shadow than a soldier. “I’m sorry, miss. But you can’t enter without permission. The outer wall is closed to all visitors, at least for now.”

Gale let out a slight huff under her breath. So her sources hadn’t been inaccurate. But this was why, despite everything that her peers might say, she spent several weeks, if not months, preparing before she actually went to take care of her business. Less hassle on the actual mission, that way. “I assume you’re the commander?” Gale asked, still keeping her head low.

The armor-clad griffon nodded. “Commander Sparrow. And I have orders not to let anyone through the wall without permission.”

Gale ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, thinking. “What’s to stop me from flying over?”

“Far too many runes to count, several dozen spare soldiers, and a lot of metal.”

“Just curious,” Gale conceded. She reached under her robe, pulling out a sheet of papers. She handed them to Sparrow, who began looking through them. “That should provide enough proof that I’m… honest with my dealings.” She tapped her right paw against the clouds, watching Sparrow coldly.

After a moment, the commander handed the papers back to her. “Gale? As in...?” He trailed off, as if unsure as to what to peg her as.

“The same.” Gale gave him a slight smile from under her cloak.

“I didn’t finish.”

“I do a lot of things. Now may I go in?”

Sparrow grunted and gave quick shout to his soldiers. “I see you’ve got an official invitation. From the general himself, it seems. What ever did you do to get that?”

She gave him a dazzling smile, although he probably was unable to see it. “That’s my secret. Now, I assume the general will be waiting?”

Sparrow gave her a wary look but waved for her to go in. “As rare as that is, the odds are that he will be.”

Gale gave the commander a curt nod and made her way forward. His soldiers parted nervously, keeping their weapons between themselves and Gale. She snorted quietly to herself as she advanced, letting the rise into the air to allow entry.

The moment she had entered the courtyard surrounding the tower, there was a clang as the gate slammed shut behind her. She paused to look at it, the metal mass locking her in until such a time that the general deemed it worthy for her to leave. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too long.

She made her way towards the tower, gently pulling her hood over her head ever so-slightly further to avoid letting it slip down. A few of the soldiers or workers at the tower cast her looks, turning away from their work to raise eyebrows or murmur to one another. Gale snorted under her breath as a pair of soldiers looked away from their work to fawn at her. Idiots.

She came to the massive stony gates of the city. Skystone, it was called. One of the few materials that could actually stand on clouds without any other support. She wrapped against it, her talons a ghostly white. Well, more ghostly than usual.

There were some muffled shouts. One of the two speakers sounded puzzled, as if he hadn’t been notified of Gale’s arrival, while the other mostly sounded irritated. Gale tapped her right paw impatiently, a scowl spreading across her hidden face.

After what felt like minutes, there was a creak as the gates opened wide, revealing the interior of the tower. There were no stairs. Instead, there were sections of cloud, stretched tight by pieces of Skystone, that allowed griffons to propel themselves from floor to floor with little effort.

The second thing that Gale noticed was that the tower was far from empty. Soldiers stood on every floor, their weapons gleaming in what little light there was in the building. On each of the floors, there stood at least half-a-dozen griffons who were clearly not soldiers. On the third floor, Gale could see a room filled with charts, receipts, and far too many quills. Cleary a room for bureaucrats.

She paused to look at the griffon who had opened the door. He was thin, lanky, and was probably able to tear her to pieces if she misstepped. “I’m here to see the general.”

The lanky griffon sighed and stepped aside to let her in. He followed her as the doors closed, however. He raised five talons, then pointed upwards. Gale swallowed but stepped to one of the stretched cloud pieces. She took a moment to gather her wits, pulling the hood further over her head. She crouched down, a cat prepared to leap, and then flew into the air. It took less than a second for her to arrive at the fifth floor.

She landed on what was undeniably a war room. Maps hung on the skystone walls, marked with the positions of important cities, local armies, deadly ships and various monsters. One table sat on the floor, its wooden legs standing firmly on the skystone floor. A map of all of the charted east sat on it, a giant game of chess, with miniature ships, cities, soldiers, pretty much everything that they had data on. Sitting in the middle of it, constantly moving, if only barely, was an exact replica of Maelstrom.

Surrounding the table were seven griffons. They were all clad in armor, with weapons at their side. Several of them looked up as Gale entered, reaching for their weapons. Gale made a gesture for them to be quiet, pulling her hood over her head more tightly before she spoke. “General Gaius, I presume?” She nodded towards one of the griffons who hadn’t reached for his weapon.

Gaius, contrary to common belief, was not a hulking brute of a soldier. He was somewhat small, barely larger than Gale. Three daggers were attached to various parts of his body, with another lying on the table. His feathers were a mix of blue and red, with his razor sharp claws leaving skid marks on the floor. “I’m he.” Gaius’ voice was somewhat nasal, like he was talking through his crooked beak. “You are?”

Gale smiled smiled. “Gale. We arranged a meeting.”

“There are a lot of griffons who would like to claim that name.” Gaius gave a slight nod to one of the griffons who had stood up. There was the a moment's pause, and then Gale found herself with a sword at her throat. “In fact, there are a lot of griffons who want that griffon dead. How do I know you’re genuine?”

Gale sighed and brushed the edge of her wing out from the edge of her cloak. Gaius’ eyes widened as he took it in. “Stand down, commander. She’s genuine.”

His commander gave Gaius a grimace, but he nodded and sheathed his sword, giving Gale a grudging nod. The others in the room exchanged nervous glances as they noticed what their commander had seen, right before it vanished under her cloak. Gaius frowned and made his way to where Gale stood, a frown spreading across his face. “You’ve been tormenting me for the past month, telling me you needed to speak with me. What do you want?”

“A myriad of things,” Gale said coldly. “But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say. Without a sword at my throat.”

Gaius grunted. “Grover’s a pain in my ass recently. I don’t need your posse in my business as well.”

Gale made a calming gesture with a talon. “I’m not here to meddle in your affairs. Maelstrom, for all of its wonders, isn’t worth starting a war in. I’m here on less… political matters.”

The general raised an eyebrow. He turned to his commanders. “I’ll be back, gents. Don’t order any marches until I’m back.” He made his way to where Gale stood, retrieving his dagger on the way over. He kept it between the two of them. “I assume you’ll want to discuss this in a less open area?” Gale nodded, then Gaius walked to the section of cloud used for leaping.

He crouched down, throwing himself upwards to the top floor. Gale grimaced, but followed, landing it what was obviously Gaius’ personal study. A bookshelf sat on one wall, filled to the brim with books and scrolls. A table sat in the middle of the room, which Gaius was quick to sit at. The tiny griffon smiled slightly as Gale entered and readjusted her cloak. “The rumors about you are true, it seems.”

Gale sighed as she made her way to the table, taking care not to let her cloak slip. Gaius motioned for her to take a seat, which she did, if grudgingly. Gaius raised an eyebrow as she tapped a talon against the table. “What do you want?”

“Maelstrom’s on the move. What’d you find?”

“Is it a crime for the city to move?”

“No, but you’re a strategist. Always have been. You either found something valuable or worth investigating. What is it?”

Gaius gave Gale a cold look. “That’s my business.” His eyes met hers head on. They were hard, and full of determination.

“My business is all of griffon business, general. You know how it works. What have you found?”

“Like I said, that’s my business. Piss off if you don’t like it, but the moment I tell you what I’ve found I’m slitting your throat.”

Gale paused to consider this for a moment, the gears in her head clearly turning. Finally, she spoke with a calm, collected air, her words coming out steady and calmly. “Fine. But there’s one other thing I need to know.”

Gaius scratched his chin. “Will you stay out of my business?”

She gave him a slight shrug, but stopped it before it knocked the cloak off her shoulders. Gaius gave her a bitter look, but Gale spoke without a hint of spite. “You can handle this one. And, to my knowledge, nobody will be hurt.”

Gale didn’t flinch as Gaius’ dagger flew by her head, clanging against the far wall and falling to the floor with a faint clatter. Gaius himself had pushed himself towards her, his feathers bristling. “Nobody will be hurt? You’re a liar.”

Gale let out an amused chuckle. “Alright. Allow me to revise that. Any harm that will be caused will not be directed towards Maelstrom or its inhabitants. Or any of the civilians or those who have done me no wrong. Our bone is solely with Grover and the rest of his little sycophants and heretics.”

“I would be more willing to trust you if you weren’t working with The Specter,” he spat, drawing another dagger and fingering it with cruel carefulness. “If I wanted to, I could eliminate you now and cut off a head of this beast.”

There was a rustling as Gale re-adjusted her seating position, letting her hood fall back the smallest bit, revealing her piercing, pale red eyes. “Go ahead, if you want. But I’ve got Finch watching this place like a hawk.”

“How?” he snarled, this time pinning Gale to her chair with a dagger. “That little spy of yours isn’t inconspicuous. You’ve indicated that you’ve been in the city for the past few weeks. How come none of my soldiers have spotted your crew?”

“I don’t reveal all of my secrets.” There was a few seconds of silence as the hood was pulled back over her eyes, then she continued. “But I will say that he’s got someone inside here working for him. That’s all.”

“Damn Oracles,” Gaius muttered. “You’re the worst of them, you know that, right?”

“I’ll be sure to send Passerine or Raven to negotiate next time.”

Gaius waved a talon dismissively, falling back into his chair with a dejected sigh. “I know you’ll get whatever it is you want, one way or another. What’s the second thing? And what’s your price? I assume you’ve got one of the best bargaining chips if you expect me to trade.”

Gale’s smile was the widest she had had in ages, although, as usual, it was obscured under her cloak. She raised a talon, pointing up with one of the claws. “One word: autonomy.” Gaius raised an eyebrow, making her sigh and continue. “I’ll give the order. We’ll all steer clear of your territory. I’ll let you head to wherever it is you’re headed, give no indication as to what’s there, and put one of the six watching to make sure nobody breaks in. In fact, I’ll send Pandora or something like that. You’ve had dealing with her, yes?”

Gaius let out a whistle. “That’s worth more than anything you or your damn posse has ever offered me. What do you want? The city’s weight in gold? The Idol of Boreas, straight from Grover’s private quarters?”

“Nope. In fact, it’s far cheaper than that.” It was Gaius’ turn to look surprised. Gale’s smile grew wider and continued. “I want to talk to that prisoner in your bottom cell. And, if she’s what I want, you release her to me. I’ll take care to make sure she stays out of your business.”

Gaius’ next words came out cold and in a vicious whisper that indicated his suspicion to no end. “How do you know about that?”

“Informant.”

Gaius looked at the ceiling for a moment, evidently considering who on his staff could have been reporting to Gale. When he returned his attention to her, his made a steeple with his talons, and his words came out slowly. “Why… why do you want her?”

Gale shrugged. “That’s my business. But, if you agree to the trade, I’ll throw in the information for free.”

Gaius ran his tongue along his beak, his eyes troubled. After a moment of Gale’s tapping of her claws on the table, he gave his answer. “Done.”

“Wonderful,” Gale enthused. “Now, take me to your dungeon. I’ll give you the information there. It’ll save me an extra conversation.” She stood up, making her way to the entrance between floors. Gaius followed, tripping over his chair as he tried to keep up.

“Wait- it’s on the bottom floor. You’ll have to fall through clou-”

“I know.” She jumped, falling down like a bullet from a gun. She pierced through the piece of springy cloud and onto the hard ground of the prison below. She landed, looking up at the reforming cloud above her. A moment later, a gasping Gaius broke through. He landed unceremoniously, only avoiding injury because of the cloud he had just broke through. Gale gave him an unsympathetic look. “Work on your landing next time.”

“Readjust your hood,” Gaius snapped as he stood up, brushing himself off as he did so. “I can stare right at your precious little birth defect.”

Gale’s eyes widened, pulling her hood so far forward that it obscured her entire head. Gaius chuckled for a moment- but only up until the point he found himself pinned to the wall by Gale with a knife at his throat. “Don’t. Don’t speak of what you saw. Or I’ll gut you like a fish.”

Gaius looked at the knife, then at Gale, whose sudden burst of strength had caused fear to spread across his face. “Point taken. Never tick off a pirate who can sneak a knife past everyone. And… I think I’ll take Pandora as my escort. No offense, but I don’t like the other options.”

The Oracle snorted and dropped him, striding off as he began to compose himself. “Where’s the prisoner?”

Gaius sighed and led her through the dark cells of the tower’s dungeon, past a variety of prisoners. Most were griffons, either war criminals or those that violated his authority, but a few others included a creature that kept changing form sporadically, an ironclad creature that vaguely resembled a minotaur and spouted steam, and a beast that would have likely been a dragon- were it not for the fact that magma seemed to ooze off of it, falling into the watery enclosure that it was trapped in.

Gale nodded appreciatively as she watched the prisoners, taking in the stone walls and the dim light as well. “You’ve redone the place.” Gaius raised an eyebrow, but Gale snickered in response. “Like I said, informant.”

Gaius made a rude gesture, but led her down several flights of stairs, till they reached the bottom floor of the dungeon. Here, there were only three cells. The first was empty, save for a few bones. Gale snorted under her breath. Apparently Gaius had little ability at keeping his prisoners alive, just like his skill at keeping soldiers alive.

The second was entirely empty, not doing much for Gale’s impression of the bottom floor. But the third cell had what she was looking for. A pegasus, dressed in a tattered uniform, sat in the cell, her body battered and worn.

The prisoner sat in the cell, her wild mess of a mane hanging over her face. It was grey and tangled- evidently the time spent in the cell had done little for her appearance. An glazed over eye, her left, stared at nothing in particular. The other was sapphire in color, and filled with distrust for Gale. Her coat, had she been in the light, would have likely been an emerald green. Now it just looked dull and faded. Gale could make a bright, if small, coin on her flank. Yes, she would do nicely.

Gale glanced at Gaius. “How long has she been here, exactly?”

“Two weeks, tops,” he replied. “She had most of those scars when she arrived.”

Gale frowned and turned back to the pegasus, watching her closely. “Who are you?”

“What do you want?” the pegasus growled, her voice surprisingly smooth.

“To talk.”

“Don’t trust anyone who’s carrying a weapon.” The pegasus nodded her head towards the thin dagger which hung at Gale’s side.

There was a small clink as Gale’s knife landed in the cell in front of the prisoner. The pegasus raised an eyebrow, looking from the dagger to the Oracle. Gale shrugged slightly. “I’d prefer to deal in good faith. That’s the only weapon I brought in here. Keep it, if you like. But will you listen to what I have to say?”

The pegasus sighed and leaned against the wall of her cell, her dark eyes cold. “I don’t have anything else to do. Aside from see if I can hit that general with your blade.” She knocked it towards herself with a hoof, slipping it behind her tail. “Alright. What do you want?”

“Still wanting yours answered first, hm?” Gale commented. “Fair enough, I suppose.” She sighed as she noticed Gaius fiddling with one of his daggers. She knocked it from his talon, drawing a gasp from the pegasus as her cloak slipped momentarily She growled and readjusted it, but not before making a mental note to either get the pegasus to leave with her, or to get her into a position where she’d never mention what she saw. She knelt down to where the pegasus sat, a sneer gracing her face.

“Listen closely, Gaius,” she said, shooting a glance to the general. She turned back to the prisoner, tapping the bars lightly. “A pegasus arrived in Griffonstone less than an hour ago.” The pegasus’ eyes widened slightly, something that Gale noted. “She wore a uniform not unlike yours. But in significantly better quality.”

“You’re lying.”

Gale smiled, stating her next words with relish. “Goes by the name… Fairy Flight?”

There was a panicked clatter as the pegasus pushed herself upwards, using her wings to force herself higher and higher into the cell. “Celestia, no… you can’t be serious. She’s here? No… no…”

Gaius took a moment to take in the panicking pegasus, then turned to Gale. “How in Tartarus do you know that?”

Gale winked, although it was probably hidden. “I have fantastic sources.” She turned back to the pegasus. “Relax. She’s over a thousand miles from us, at least for now. But I’ve got an offer for you. Come down and let me explain it to you. I mean you no harm, Weather Vane.”

The pegasus let out a panicked scream. “You’re with her. That’s the only way you could know that name. You-”

Gale snorted and gestured for the pegasus to calm down. “I’m not with Fairy Flight. But I would like to have a small chat with you- and offer you a job, while I’m at it. So, is there something you prefer to be called? Nickname, something your friends call you?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Weather Vane hissed, her one good eye shooting daggers at Gale.

“I like to know employees personally, as opposed to on a formal basis. The more I know, the more easily I can figure out what jobs one individual should handle, and what would be better suited for another.”

The pegasus landed, looked at Gaius and Gale warily, but nodded. “Vane. Call me Vane.”

“Wonderful. Well, Vane, I assume you’d like to leave the general’s company?”

“Not sure I like the idea of yours any better.”

“Understandable, seeing present company,” Gale laughed, her talons absentmindedly drawing runes on the floor of the room, “but I mean you no harm. I assume you’ve seen the ships?”

“One or two.”

“Would you have any interest in joining one?”

Vane glanced at Gaius, then at Gale. “You? A captain?”

“Yes. Although, if you’d rather not lodge with me, I’ve got connections. Friends from all over the East, ranging from dragons to hippogryphs. I’d be happy to land you on one of their ships if you’d rather not deal with me. I’ll order the captain to treat you with respect, or you can stay with me until you get to wherever you’re going.” She waved a talon at the cell. “Or you can spend some more time down here with Gaius and his soldiers.”

There was a moment’s silence as Vane knocked Gale’s dagger from one hoof to the other across the floor. “I’ve heard of your team, haven’t I? You’ve got green eyes emblazoned on your ships. You’re their leader, aren’t you?” Vane knocked the dagger back to the Oracle, then leaned against the wall once more. “There are posters of a griffon with a face shrouded in black. You’re her. Captain of the Clipper. I wasn’t certain at first, but I am now. You’re the one that the king wants swinging from the gallows.”

“Probably.”

“Then why offer me my freedom if I can just go straight to him?”

“Because Fairy Flight is there. And no matter how scared of me you are, I can see you’re far more scared of her.”

“Fine,” Vane muttered. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere anyway.”

Gaius grimaced as he glanced between Gale and Vane. “You two, hurry up. I need to get back to my commanders.”

He wilted as the Oracle’s hood turned to him, like the front of a haunting ghost that knows every crime you’ve ever done. Gale’s sneer could be seen from under her cloak, her mouth barely moving as she spoke. “Do you want me to get my job done or not? The less time I spend talking to you, the more time I leave you to your business.” She swung her gaze to Vane. “Well? You want your freedom? Willing to answer me a few questions?”

“I already said yes.”

“Release her.”

Gaius walked up the stairs, grumbling to himself. Gale tapped her her talon calmly as she glanced around the room, her gaze eventually settling on Vane. “Why are you so scared of Fairy Flight?”

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

“I’ve got six questions. Make it five.” Gale smirked as Vane cussed, and then motioned for her to continue.

“I’ve done some poor things,” Vane said quietly, so quiet that Gale had to strain to hear. “I’m a murderer. I’m a traitor. So I’m leaving. East. I’ve heard that you griffons made for quite the bunch of scoundrels. I’ve not been disappointed yet.”

Gale licked her beak slightly, considering the value of her next question. “You have any interest in stopping?”

“That one of your six?”

“Indeed. I can live with that.”

“Not really. Like I said, I’m a murderer and a traitor. I’m not worth dealing with.”

“Sounds like you’d fit in well with the Clipper,” Gale commented. “We’re all outlaws. Consider giving us a try.”

Vane raised an eyebrow, but before she could speak, the silent griffon from earlier returned, carrying a ring of keys. Gale tilted her head slightly to him as he knelt, unlocking Vane’s cage and letting her come out. Vane took a step out, her lungs filling with the air that, while it technically had been there, did not belong to a prison cell. The silent guard waited till Vane had exited, then closed the cell with a loud clang.

Gale gave him a brief nod. “Finch will hear of this.”

The silent guard nodded gratefully, then led them out of the prison. On their way out, Gale gave Gaius a spiteful grin, but they walked out of the tower, passing Sparrow, and heading towards the edge of the city, past all the griffons from earlier.

They neared the very edge, where the clouds simply dropped off. Vane and Gale stood there, waiting quietly. Vane swallowed as the silent griffon turned around and headed back towards the tower. “Is he one of your ‘sources?’”

“Not mine,” Gale said absentmindedly. “He’s Finch’s. You’ll meet that particular worker of mine not long from now. He’s… he’s got contacts all over the place. But you never answered my question. Willing to give us all a try?”

Vane swallowed, her lone eye wary. “And if I say no?”`

“Like I said, we’ll let you off at wherever you need to go.”

Vane looked out the endless expanse of sky. Clouds drifted lazily in the peripherals, but everything that could be seen ahead was empty sky for hundreds of miles. “Um, maybe. But where’s your ship? I thought you said you had one.”

“Currently?” a new voice asked. Vane whipped around, but Gale simply continued to stand there. A small griffon, his feathers standing up like the spines on a dragon or some hideous insect, stood behind them. Both his fur and feathers were muddy in color, which probably did not help him with the heat. “Well, the Clipper is sitting around a hundred feet below us.”

Vane swallowed and gestured at him with a hoof, looking at Gale as she did. “This Finch?”

“Depends,” the griffon said snidely. “Currently? Yes, that’s one of my aliases. Although I’ve gone by Abacus, Boron, and Chitin, to name a few. I’m still using the first, although I’m considering just combining them. Abacus Finch. Fantastic name for a foreigner, don’t you think?” An exotic accent and an odd name do wonders for my line of business.”

Vane looked the griffon over, her expression neutral. “As does sounding cooky- and you’ve got that down.”

Finch glanced at Gale. “Where’d you get this stick-in-the-mud?”

“Your spies told me about her.”

Finch frowned. “Did they now?” He glanced around momentarily, watching to make sure that no one was nearby, then leaned in to Gale. “Two things. One, we keeping her?”

“Maybe,” Gale snapped. “It’s up to her. But can we get back to the Clipper? We’ve got work to do.”

Finch made a placating gesture. “Hold your hippogriffs. Actually, strike that. I don’t want you doing anything to Grimlock’s crew. Anyway, we’ve got news drifting in. Raven seems to have messed something up, although it’s hard for me to contact her.”

Gale raised an eyebrow and turned to Vane. “Well? You have any interest in staying with us? Otherwise I’ve got to go.”

Vane swallowed, massaging her throat with a hoof. “I don’t know…” Gale sighed and raised a wing, turned to Finch and opened her mouth, probably to give the order to leave, but then Vane stopped them. “Yes. I’ll come.”

Gale nodded and then extended a talon to Vane, which she took. Finch grabbed onto both of them, there was a momentary sinking feeling, and then the three of them vanished, leaving an indent on the cloudy ground of Malestrom as they fell downards.

Author's Note

Somehow forgot to italicize Clipper and Surprise when I first uploaded this. Has since been fixed, but just goes to show how confusing ships can be.