Where The Heart Lies

Chapters

Prologue The Story So Far
Family Ties
The Gryphon Hen
Delays and Rumors Abound
Laborious Work
Stand Up
Threats From Winter
Some Nights I Stay Up
The General
The Long Road and the Arch Gryphon
Winds of Rage
Small Beginnings
Revelations
The Monster Revealed
The General's Advice
Nightmares and Giants
Blizzards and Enduring Spirit
The long Night Ahead
A Families Foreboding
Flight
The Hunt
Winter's Spirit
Complete Candor
The Trickster
Predators and Pride
Truth and Pain
Morning Glory
Letters of a General
Grace
The Art of Preening
King's Rise
King's Disposition
Courage
A King's Request
Escape

Prologue The Story So Far

Prologue, The story so far

The First Contact War. It was a war that would change the fate of Equestria. The Griffon leader known as Ravenclaw, had murdered both King Solaris and Prince Osiris, the rulers of Equestria, but his life was also claimed as a result. The two sides quickly turned from small skirmishes to a full scale war that raged for over twenty years, where alliances forged and shattered during its wake. For all those years, Princess Celestia and her allies overcame the obstacles and opposition and turned back the tides of war.

The nation of Prance, which has been in occupation for most of the war, was the last bastion for the Griffon Empire, and the last beacon for the griffons was the city of Prancy, a city desperately held it for many moons. When autumn drew its end the city had finally fallen into the last pockets of resistance, until it was all but abandoned. So much death, so much madness was claimed within the heart of the city. The Griffon Empire , entrenched in total war, destroyed everything, from every home, to every street, and to every block. Soon the whole of Prance was desolate and the griffons, in a last ditch attempt, attacked the lines head-on and suffered nearly half of their casualties. They now made a full retreat, and Prancy was soon reclaimed.

As the Equestrian Army and its allies recovered what was left from the city, they now looked to finish claiming the rest of the land, and find those responsible for such slaughter. They knew for a certainty that those who orchestrated this destruction, responsible for the countless deaths, would be brought to justice.

For one Equestrian royal guard, by the name of Quicksilver, he sees the truth behind the massacre. For he lies as their captive and sees the real evil among the ranks of the griffons.

This, is his story.

****

“Get up you filth!” Quicksilver received a kick to his side, jolting him awake. He grunted in pain as he lifted himself up from the hard ground. Once he stood at his full height, a tight pressure on his neck pulled him forward. The griffon in front of him was holding onto a rope, yanking him forward through a wooded area. With his eyes half closed, he tried to get his senses together. He looked up and saw that the sun was not yet up, and he could still see the moon up in the sky. He sighed deeply as he looked at the ground before him and pondered over the days past events.

Quicksilver was not a simple soldier within the Equestrian forces; he was a lieutenant of the Royal Guard, part of the Thunder and Lightning Division in the Equestrian Army, “voluntarily” serving the front lines and facing the enemy head on. He and his fellow guards were the first to enter Prancy, fighting wave after wave against enemy griffons. It was only through sheer will and determination that they were able to push back against their enemies, and it was only after they believed it was all over that the griffons pushed back one last time. It was then that chaos and confusion took place, and he was surrounded. The griffons had launched a full scale attack, a last ditch attempt to break the lines and reclaim parts of the inner city. In the midst of battle, before the dust even settled, he was struck from behind and was quickly taken by the enemy.

It had been three days since his capture.

“Keep moving forward!” his captor yelled as he pulled the rope, forcing Quicksilver forward, making him trip over himself. He landed hard on his left side, and he screamed out in agony. The griffon kept pulling, forcing him to climb back up. As he looked back, he clearly saw the wound that dangled off the side of his blue coat. His left wing was bent and dislocated, hanging haphazardly on his side, small patches of blood on his feathers and fur. When he was captured he had tried to escape into the air, but their leader, Colonel Sharp Beak, had ordered his wing broken. The limb remained where it was, and Quicksilver feared that if it wasn't treated soon, then he would lose his ability to fly. Not that it mattered; the gryphons wouldn’t treat the wounds of a prisoner.

As he trekked up the hill, his body screaming for rest, he began to see more and more griffons moving up the beaten path. He could see the stone-cold expressions on each of their faces, and he could see that even in defeat these griffons would never give in. They were losing the war, yet why did they not show it? The griffon army had scattered after the defeat at Prancy, so why did they continue to linger? The thoughts continued to swirl around his mind until he came out of the woods. He looked around his surroundings and saw at least two dozen griffons within the area, some heavily armored in steel while others wore simple garbs and cloaks. As he was forced forward near the center of the group he could see another was forced to the front as well. But it was not another pony nor a cervine.

It was another griffon.

“On your knees!” the griffon forced Quicksilver to stop and placed a claw around his neck until he was on his knees. As his head hung low, the moon, still illuminated in the pre-dawn sky, allowed him to see his silver mane muddied and filthy, with small clumps of dirt still attached to him. He hadn't bathed for a least a month.

He heard a struggle from the captured griffon and turned his head to see the griffon being forced near the middle of the pack. Before he could get a good look, his captor held him down onto the ground.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” his captor said, making him to stare forward. He kept his head steady and he complied with the griffon, even though he wanted so much to wring his scrawny neck.

Still, he remained where he was, somewhat grateful that he was able to rest. He wheezed heavily, and he could see his breath in the morning air. As he looked out further, he saw that he was on some hill of some sort, just south on the outskirts of city of Prancy. From the city’s horizon, he could still see smoke billowing from the rooftops. The griffons had started a great fire, putting old structures to the torch, and leaving nothing for the locals to return to. Residents would return to burnt ruins of a home and nothing else. However, he knew the Equestrian Army would still be there; they would’ve built a safe zone for the equines of Prance to resettle themselves and would most likely stay for some time to either help rebuild or secure the remaining borders of Prance--the latter proving the most obvious choice. He was hopeful that, with Equestria’s help, the city of Prancy would be restored. As he continued to look onward he could see that the sun was starting to rise in the east, the first morning rays blinding him. However, clouds were slowly coming in to block them.

He kept an eye on the griffon who was forced to his knees by the other griffons and glimpsed his claws bound behind him. As this occurred, his captor lifted his head.

“Take a good hard look Equine. This is what we do to our deserters,” he said, and Quicksilver was able to get a good look at the bound griffon.

This griffon was different from the rest. He had a brown body, but bore white feathers all around his head. However, the distinct feature about them was that the tips were red and at the top of his head, his small quill feathers were shaded the same color. Quicksilver also saw that his eyes were golden, with another shade of red covering his eyes and in them, Quicksilver saw betrayal as the vigilant griffon looked upon his fellow griffons.

“Attention!” A griffon called out and all of the soldiers stood in salute, their chest up and their heads held high. They remained like that when a single griffon began walking forth to the center of the pack, his body adorned with silver armor and a black helm. Quicksilver felt his blood run cold but also felt a deep hatred within his heart. This griffon was the very reason for his capture and for his soon to be permanent injury. This was the black heart of the griffon army, Colonel Sharp Beak.

He moved in a commanding manner, eyeing the smaller griffon on the ground. Whatever intention he had Quicksilver could only guess that it’d end badly.

“Franz Stormcloud! You are charged for desertion and abandonment of post of the city of Prancy. You left your officer and companions who died bravely against the pony cur. How do you plead?” Sharp Beak said, almost daring him to speak as if he was looking for something to exploit. The younger griffon looked up at his officer with a questioning look.

“This has got to be a joke. I left because the city was already lost. The city of Prancy could no longer be held, it had to-” Sharp Back struck him across his right cheek.

“So you admit to leaving your post. That leaves you guilty for abandoning our fellow gryphons,” Sharp Beak said accusingly.

“You're wrong! I was forced from my post. When the last assault took place I was retreating down the center street near the mayor’s villa. I encountered two guards and met up with sergeant Black Wing. We gave chase to the ponies who had retreated into the sewer and we-”

“And you abandoned him to his fate!” Sharp Beak yelled again, striking Franz again on the other side of the cheek. “You left my right gryphon down in that sewer and left your companions to die. You should have died with them, instead of fleeing away like a coward,” Sharp Beak continued until Franz looked at him in the eye, Quicksilver seeing the hate rise within him. Quicksilver could only wonder if the two guards were part of the patrols he had sent out. He had dispatched several patrols around the area, including one near the mayor’s villa. The mayor had requested it was to be searched again for his missing daughter, and it was possible that it could have been his faithful companions. The two had not arrived back with the rest of the patrols when the final engagement took place.

“Hammer, Anvil,” he softly whispered.

“What they were doing was foolish but most of all damning. He was obsessed with getting those guards. He was driven to see them killed, even at the cost of his own soldiers. I watched those ponies fight with reason and determination. It was only after they were exhausted when I could strike, yet I didn’t.”

“Didn’t or couldn’t?” Sharp Back questioned, eyeing him with malice in his eyes. Franz didn’t say anything until he looked down, and Quicksilver saw what he thought he’d never see: the griffon was crying.

“I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t take the life they were protecting. A small filly, barely eight or younger. She was innocent and it stands against what we value most, to never draw a blade upon the innocent. I couldn’t take away the life of a child. So I left, and I stayed my blade. I would never go against what we hold sacred. Even you should know this,” Franz finished, allowing the words to settle.

Sharp Beak remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the younger griffon. Quicksilver could see the officer inspect the young blood, and he looked at him with a questioning gaze. His breathing grew deeper and soon he took a step back to observe the sun behind him.

“So… you admit your sins,” he said before turning around and unfolding his wings, allowing them to reach the highest point of intimidation. ”Frans Stormcloud! By my right as high officer in the Gryphon army, and by right under King Bronzeclaw, son of Ravenclaw, you are sentenced to death, for betrayal of your country and to your fellow Gryphons!”

Just like that, the trial was over and Franz was forced from his spot towards the edge of the hill.

“Your mad! The war is already lost and you won’t accept it!” Franz cried out as he was forced to stand, his body in front of the rising sun, which slowly rose over the horizon.

“This war will continue, Franz Stormcloud. After our last breath tears at their lungs, after they have been choked by the very streets of our dead, we will never surrender. We will win this war, until everypony lies dead, and our empire will rise again as the superior race upon the whole of Equus.”

“Pluck you and your damn pride!” Franz screamed as he spat into his officer’s face. Sharp Beak rubbed away the spittle and punched the young blood in the gut. The blow nearly made him fell over, and he was coughing up blood. Even though he was their enemy, Quicksilver couldn’t help but feel a slight bit sympathy for him. Indeed, the griffons around him were truly mad if they believed that their war was going to be won, but they were even madder still when they were turning on themselves. Soon Sharp Beak forced Franz back onto his paws.

“Your family will be ashamed of you for breaking your loyalties. When they hear of this they will have nothing but contempt for you,” Sharp Beak said as he moved back to at least ten paces away from the young griffon. Sharp Beak then motioned for five other griffons to stand beside him. In their claws Quicksilver could see that they carried a small crossbow. As the line of griffons readied their bolts Franz looked at each of them. In his eyes Quicksilver knew that they carried nothing but spite.

“When my family learns of this! They will take your head!” he called out as Sharp Beak could only shake his head at the display.

“You are weak Franz Stormcloud, and the weak have no place in the empire.” He readied his crossbow and aimed it directly at the young blood. Quicksilver could only watch as they readied to fire at their former companion. He took notice of the other griffons, who bore nothing but stone stares as the execution was about to unfold.

“Long live the Gryphon Empire,” Sharp Beak said as the other griffons beside him also replied in turn, repeating the same words. Before the colonel could begin the countdown, Franz puffed his chest out to them and spoke once more. Only this time, with more conviction.

“Empire? This Empire was already gone the moment we declared war on Equestria! We were a race that stood as a testament to every nation. We were united! We never once betrayed our own! Since this war started our proudness… no… our pride, has done nothing but consumed us!’’ He said as Sharp Beak yelled out his order, ignoring the young blood’s rant.

“Ready!” he yelled as his griffon soldiers armed the bolts and lifted them up, prepared to strike when ready. The young blood continued to call out, almost screaming out his words.

“We no longer care for our fellow Gryphons! We no longer care for our citizens, we don’t watch over our cities! We’ve been led to a false idea of nationalism and only care for the idea of a strong empire!”

Take Aim!” Sharp Back called out as he, and the five gryphons aimed their crossbows directly at Franz, while he continued to scream out his beliefs. The griffons, and they had no remorse on their countenance, no emotion spread upon them as they looked at their former friend. Those on the outside, however, had mixed feelings. Quicksilver could clearly see the uncertainty in some of their eyes, and a few of them even turned their heads away as if ashamed.

“We’ve become a false people! We’ve strayed from our path, becoming the monsters the ponies believe us to be. We slaughter, plundered, and kill, all for the sake of winning! Our capital was once the breadbasket of our nation, our hope, and our people’s freedom. Yet you have squandered them as if they were nothing! Know this, Sharp Beak, and let my words burn a memory into you black heart! You have been consumed by your pride and you will bring nothing but death to everygryphon! You and our corrupt king Bronzeclaw will bring death to our empire! You’re the traitor here! You're the tyrant! You no good plucking ba-!”

Sharp Beak fired his weapon.

The bolt launched and struck dead center in Franz’s chest. He gasped once, his mouth hanging open. He looked down at the wound, blood already spreading across his chest and downward. He shuddered slightly and fell forward, landing on his knees.The whole area was silent, and all of the griffons could only look on, wondering if the first bolt had taken him already. Quiksilver watched as the seconds ticked by, and his hatred grew even further against Sharp Beak. For another moment, Franz, remained where he was, breathing deeply, yet barely moving. Then, in a single moment, Franz lifted his head straight at his former companions, and tears had streamed down his cheeks. He drew in his last breath and bellowed out for all to hear.

“Long live sacred Gryphonstone!” he screamed out his last words before a hail of bolts were sent flying. The remaining bolts struck him deep in his chest, piercing deep into his body. Blood trailed from his beak and down the side of his face, his face turning neutral. His body fell backwards, his life taken by the ones he once called friends.

Quicksilver watched Franz’s motionless body, and he could not help but feel more sympathy towards the young soldier. He was speaking the truth, revealing the infection of their pride. Yet they silenced him in order to keep facts hidden. Indeed, these griffons only believed in one thing, to satisfy their own needs, not giving a buck to their own kind.

Sharp Beak then turned. Quicksilver felt a cold shudder run up his body as Sharp Beak’s gaze met him. He began walking forward, looking at him like a predator ready to seize its helpless prey. Quicksilver looked up as the griffon soon stood over him.

“Now, what shall we do with you?” he said, his voice turning menacing and cold. Before he could continue, a sound of wings drew their attention and a new griffon, a scout, landed in front of them.

“Pardon me, Colonel Sharp Beak. I just received word that our forces have been gathering to the High Talon mountains. You and your forces should proceed in meeting with them soon.”

“We shall depart at once!” Sharp Beak spoke out as his platoon began taking their flight. Before he could take to the sky, he lowered his head.“To be continued,” he whispered to Quicksilver as he took off into the sky.

His jailer rose in the air and grabbed at his sides, his talons sinking deep into his skin, but not deep enough to pierce it. He winced as the griffon lifted him into the air, and his body pressed together by the griffons talons. As he became airborne he turned his head to see a glimpse of Franz, lying in a pool of blood, but the sun soon rose above its horizon, and he turned his head, blinded. He could only stare forward as the griffons soared north east toward the High Talon Mountains, where large storm clouds were gathered. As the cold struck his body, he started to feel weak. His eyes were drawing heavy, but before his eyes finally closed he saw something white descending from the clouds above.

Winter had arrived.

Author's Note

Hello Everyone! New story! New things to come! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of Where The Heart Lies, more will be added in the future so stay tuned!

Edited: New cover art has been added to the original work and new art has been added.

~Broman

Also enjoy this picture from the original cover art. This is from Pimpartist101, so do go check her out!

Family Ties

Chapter 1 Family Ties

Captain Silverwing observed the landscape around her. It had been three days since she and her squad left the city of Prancy, scouting around its outskirts. Her orders were simple and clear: find Lieutenant Quicksilver before he was taken too far. However, they had little luck in finding him so far. Her squad consisted of at least twenty-five royal guards and at least a hooful of militia, veterans who had served the longest fighting inside Prancy. In total there were forty of the strongest and most capable ponies that she had assembled for this mission, and she wouldn’t have it in any other way.

She turned to Hammer and Anvil, two royal guards who now served under her command. Both seemed so opposite of each in terms of personality, yet they worked so well together, complimenting each other. She looked at the two, discussing their experiences in the city, and saw both of the wounds they had received since the battle of Prancy. Anvil, a gray stallion with a red mane, had taken a claw to his face and had a small scar over his left eye. Hammer, a white stallion with a blue mane, received the worse of injuries, and had a bandage over his left shoulder. It would be awhile before he could properly fight, but he was strong, and she would need them both to find their lost officer.

“Captain Silverwing! Captain Silverwing!” She heard a voice and she turned to meet a purple earth pony who wore small bits of armor, designating him as part of the Prance militia.

“Yes, Shadow Hunter, what is is?” she asked the stallion as he gave a small salute.

“We found a body near the edge of a nearby hill. It’s a griffon, and he’s riddled with bolts. We also spotted multiple tracks of a large host and from how long the tracks have been I’d say that they left at least an hour ago.”

Silverwing eyed Shadow Hunter with hopeful optimism yet also with concern.This was the twentieth body they found, executed in the same manner as a few previous ones. She shuddered at the thought of some of the other bodies that they found, brutally mutilated with missing claws or limbs. She wasn’t sure about the connection, but it was certainly tied to this group of griffons. It was slim, but there was maybe a chance that Quicksilver was still alive.

“Do you know what direction they might have taken?” she asked. Shadow hunter lowered his ears and looked away from her, which made her hope fade and her worry begin to rise.“Judging from the tracks, I say that they are heading toward High Talon Mountains,” he finally said as Silverwing took it all in. The mountains were a barrier between the nation of Prance and the Griffon territory. Her mind began processing the details of what the griffons might do to him. Equestrian forces were spread thin as it was, and she would only have her soldiers to help her out. If the griffons passed over the mountains then it would already be too late. She turned her head, contemplating the situation.

“There is some good news. A storm is brewing over the mountains, and if it slows their progress there might be a chance that we can retrieve Lieutenant Quicksilver,” he said as he moved to Silverwing’s side. She lifted her head with a pleased look. Turning to Shadow Hunter and placing a hoof on his shoulder, she relayed her order.

“Gather the others. We make for High Talon mountains.” Shadow Hunter saluted and ran to gather the rest of the squad. She whirled her head around and yelled out another order. “Heavy Blitz! Crimson Wing! Gather a few other pegasus and gather supplies at the city, we’re going to have a long trip ahead of us.

“Yes, Captain!” They both saluted and headed off. Seeing this, both Hammer and Anvil, walked up to their leader.

“We’re heading toward the mountains, Captain?” Anvil asked as he looked at the peaks in the far distance.

“Yes,” she replied and Hammer moved forward to her side.

“Captain, even with our forces and supplies, it will take us at least three weeks to reach the mountains, and even longer if the storm slows our progress.” He did have good points but Silverwing knew in her heart that if that happened that would increase their chances of getting to Quicksilver. She raised a hoof and placed it on Hammer’s good shoulder.

“If that happens then the griffons would be forced to stop as well, giving us the chance to reach him sooner. Now both of you get ready. Once the extra supplies come, we’ll leave when the sun is at its highest.” She released her hold and both nodded. She watched as both left her, Anvil nudging Hammer and the latter blushing at his friend’s chatter. She could only leave a small smile for him as she turned her gaze back toward the mountains in the distance. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply and a single thought went through her mind.

Hold on little brother, your big sister’s coming for you.

****

Quicksilver was in the sky, his wings spread wide. The rush of the cool air brushed past him as he soared. His mane went wild as he turned and twisted, but his movements were graceful. He made aerial maneuvers that he had perfected over the years, gliding in an elegant dance; he was confident in his ability that he wouldn’t make a mistake in his flight. As he moved through the open air, the sky was a beautiful blue, while down below on the grasslands, the tall, vibrant, green grass danced in the winds, creating a beautiful wave-like motion. He imagined this would last forever, his wings flying in the heavenly abyss.

Yet, all dreams must come to an end.

His dream-like world had started to transform. The blue skies turned a vicious red and the grassland changed into a rough and destitute land; the very ground looked like a battlefield, with hundreds if not thousands of dead soldiers, and he could hear their agonizing cries, their voices sounding of death, calling out his name. Panic coursed through his body, and he tried flapping away, but his wings wouldn’t respond, and instead, he experienced agonizing pain. He felt as if icicles penetrated into every joint of his body. He began falling rapidly, his wings beating fast in a desperate attempt to stay airborne. He called out for somepony, anypony that could help. He heard nothing but his own voice as he continued to fall. He turned to try and glide his way in toward the grass and lessen the impact, but felt a strong pull on his other wing and he was not in a freefall and the ground was nearing ever closer. Before he hit the ground, everything turned white

Quicksilver opened his eyes and saw a patch of snow upon the ground as his jailer descended, letting his constricted body go at the last second. He hit the ground hard, his body rolling in the soft slush, coming to a stop several feet from the impact. He cringed and seethed through his teeth, and he held his sides in pain. His left wing flopped to the side. He barely felt it anymore, and he wondered if his left wing was even worth saving. Snow and wind blew around them, and it smacked into his face when he tried to open his eyes. When he eventually looked up, he saw the griffon hovering over him.

“Get up you scum!” His jailer forced him back on his hoofs. Quicksilver, his hoofs having fell asleep, winced slightly as he painfully moved forward. It had been two days since they left the city, five days since his capture, and he had experienced at least three painful landfalls due to the callous griffon that carried him. Despite two days of harsh mistreatment--during one event, they toyed with him by dropping him mid-air, then caught him before he hit the ground--he still hung on. Although he tried to show, he was apprehensive, and his unease heightened as he thought about what they had done days prior and what they might do to him later. He could only imagine his life would end the moment they regrouped. Behind him, he heard several griffons land, some gasping for breath.

“We’re not going no further... Till we have a breather!” a griffon scout heaved as he tried to steady himself.

“We’ve been flying for nearly two straight days! My wings are burning,” another griffon complained off to the side.

“We can’t go on like this! The storm is picking up!” another griffon called out as several more followed onto the descent.

“We must keep moving… the camp should be close, I know it!” Sharp Beak yelled, keeping his subordinates in line. Quicksilver looked around and saw that the colonel was right. They were already on the mountains of High Talon. All around him he saw nothing but peaks that reached high into the skies, and at least half a mile away he could see the flat plains of the grasslands. They were pushing hard to arrive, barely taking breaks and resting only several hours at a time. He could feel his stomach growl in protest. Since his capture, they had given him little food and water. His only meal had been a half loaf of bread since the whole trip began. He swallowed a lump in his parched throat, and he licked his chapped lips. He felt so weak, so very weak. He wanted to rest again, wanted to escape to his waiting dreams, but he was jostled up when his jailor kicked the back of his legs, then forcibly seized his neck to the point of almost choking. His jailor then shoved him forward, making him walk through the heavy snow that that went above his knees.

“We make for the camp! It should be close by! No flying. The wind and snow is getting stronger,” Sharp Beak called out as he began moving forward. The rest of the griffons followed, albeit at a slow pace. Quicksilver still felt numbing pain in his legs, and his left wing dragged behind him. For the next several minutes snow and wind whipped around them, obscuring his vision. He didn’t know where he was going, only marching onward through this storm. Around him he saw the weariness of some of the griffons. Some were so tired that they bumped into each other or nearly collapsed onto the snow in front of them. Wherever they were headed he only hoped they arrived soon.

Nearly a half hour passed as they trekked along the beaten path, the snow clinging to their bodies. Quicksilver heaved with each breath, his strength already spent and his body had no energy to give. He trudged through the snow, his stomach protesting for want of food. He kept his mind on the road ahead, his eyes lazily looking around. However, he regretfully didn’t see the small slope in front of him. Quicksilver slipped and tumbled down the small incline, landing hard onto the snow in front of him. His body ached, and he felt numb as the wind and snow began to pick up around him. His eyes were closing, wanting so much to return to sleep, but he would not get such respite.

“Hey! Somegryphon get that pony. If he can’t stand, then carry his sorry carcass!” he could hear Sharp Beak call out. He cracked an eye open and saw two griffons coming to his side. He felt his arms being raised and wrapped around their necks, each griffon holding onto him as he was dragged across the snow. He could hear their ragged breaths as they pressed on yet they didn’t seem to be bothered when carrying him; he was at least grateful that it was not the jailor, otherwise he’d be forced on his hooves.

He could barely see anything other then them hugging the side of the mountain. The wind was howling around them never ending, almost threatening to blow them all off the mountain. In his heart he could only pray that somehow, someway, he’d be able to make it out of this.

As soon as he thought of it, the very moment he believed in it, the wind and snow had slowed.

He opened his eyes, wondering what had happened. After their group turned a corner the wind and snow had stopped significantly, and on the side of the mountain were a line of torches. He heard many voices ahead as they walked down an enclosed pathway, where a bright light shone in the distance. He felt disoriented due to the close enclosure that he almost felt the walls were closing in on him. His eyes closed once again, as he felt himself being dragged further into this mysterious place. A few minutes passed and the voices grew closer, and were more numerous. Once the blinding light was bearable he was able to crack one of his eyes.

What he saw next took his breath away.

They were inside the mountain, where many tents and small buildings were scattered around a vast open cave. Light snow drifted downward through a hole in the ceiling, but he didn’t understand if it was made by griffons or if it was there by nature. Whatever the case, several griffons came in and out of it. As far as he could see, the whole area of the cave was a massive camp, with many tents surrounding the center, near a large campfire. Hundreds of griffons were scattered around the encampment, each armed for war. Many had wore different suits of armor and some had different insignias adorning their plate mail. Some carried halberds, some longswords, while a few others held crossbows within their claws. Many tended and cared for their group’s exhausted and weary.

Conversations were everywhere, too many to follow all at once. He really didn’t care, as long as Sharp Beak kept his beak shut. His two carriers left him then took a few paces behind him. He remained where he was, sitting on his haunches and his wings hanging from his sides, only staring at the ground. He could tell that many eyes were upon him, as he heard the soft whispers from the nearby griffons. He swallowed, his dry throat parched. He cast his gaze slightly to the right and saw many griffons brandishing their weapons, while others gave him cold death stares. To the left, were collapsed griffons, the very ones that accompanied him during this flight. Several of the white headed griffons began treating them and a couple had to be dragged away from exhaustion. He looked forward at the ground, not paying attention to any of them, and he had a feeling that he was going to be executed at any moment.

The sound of talons approached him, and every griffon became eerily quiet. The claws scraped the floor, getting closer, ever nearer. Sweat poured down his head, uncertainty gripped his heart at the approaching noise. A few more steps and the claws stopped with a loud thud. His heart skipped a beat. He noticed two large claws in his vision, and they were very close.

Taking a shaky breath, likely to be his last, he looked up to see a large griffon standing before him. His eyes widened. The griffon was huge.

Unlike the other griffons he’d seen, this one was not only larger, but he had more pristine feathers--Instead of the normal brown feathers that most griffons had this one was feathers were pure white. He had a coat of brown and deep red feathers around his golden eyes and on the tips of his feathers. He was both fearsome but striking to say the least. Quicksilver’s expression remained stoic as several other griffons began to circle him. He could see a few of them bearing the same white feathers around their upper necks and legs while bearing different colors on the tips of their feathers. He could only wonder what kind of griffons they were.

“I am Ebon Jager, captain of the royal gryphons stationed here.” Quicksilver looked at him with a blank stare, giving no response. “You are here because we allowed you to be here. You may be a prisoner of Colonel Sharp Beak, but you will be under our care during the duration of your stay. You are now under our watchful eye, equine, and you will remain as such till the end of your days,” Ebon said speaking in complete candor. Quicksilver leaned his head down and he didn’t respond, opting to remain silent, as a prisoner should do.

“Insolent equine! Acknowledge him!” A griffon approached him, drawing a sword halfway. Quicksilver turned his gaze at the next griffon, inspecting the bird of prey. This griffon had the same white features as Ebon, but had a deep blue around his eyes and feathers, he also had a scar that ran down his left eye, traced from the top of his skull all the way down to the side of his beak. Quicksilver remained staring, saying nothing. The griffon spat at him and Quicksilver barely flinched. The griffon eyed him for a moment and turned to walk away. However, he quickly drew his blade and swung, barely stopping as it touched his neck. The blade was inches from his neck, the cold touch barely grazing him. Quicksilver remained where he was, not even granting any sign of emotion or weakness. The griffon narrowed his eyes and slid his blade slowly across Quicksilver’s neck, a small cut appearing on the tip of his flesh from the blade’s edge, but not deep enough to bleed.

“Deadeye. That is enough.” Ebon spoke calm but with a commanding tone. Deadeye, as he was called, lifted his sword away and sheathed it in his scabbard. He remained standing, still staring down at Quicksilver. The pegasus knew that this griffon wasn't just a soldier, he was a highly disciplined and a fierce warrior, and he would kill him without question.

“You are brave, I’ll give you that much,” Ebon said.

“However,” he continued, “bravery will only get you so far. You’re deep within High Talon Mountains and winter has come. You, cannot, escape,” Ebon said, his message clear. Quicksilver remained ever silent, so quiet he felt like he was in a crypt. In a way, he felt like he was already a dead equine the moment he sat a hoof in this place and the griffons were the carrion birds ready to feast on his corpse at a moment's notice. With a final harrumph the griffon leader turned and left him, most likely to tend to the new arrivals. Quicksilver didn’t pay attention. He only had the strength to stand and listen to him speak. He then promptly fell to his side, his body giving in to want of sleep and lack of energy. He closed his eyes and heard the griffons speak about him.

He didn’t care. His awaiting dreams would be his only reprieve.

Author's Note

The next chapter to this tale. Quicksilver is captured, his sister going to rescue him, and a few familiar faces. Film at 11. What will become of him as he remains their captive.

Next chapter will be awhile but hopefully will be ready soon.

Let me know what you all think in the comment section and I will talk to you all soon.

~Broman

The Gryphon Hen

He was having that dream again. He was soaring high in the skies, gliding across the air without a care. The wind guided him and he lazily flew, his mind taking in the cool breeze. The sky above was still blue and the grasslands below were still green. The only thing that was different was a single oak that stood tall upon the ocean of grass, its branches extending outward like a vein. He slowly drifted downward, stopping near the foot of the tree. He saw that it had wondrous fruit of many kinds. He grabbed the nearest one with his hoof and began inspecting it. It was an ordinary red apple that shined in the sunlight. He promptly took a bite and he tasted sweet nectar. With each bite of the apple, his taste buds were elated and he was filled with utter bliss.

“Quicksilver.”

A voice came from his side and he turned. There was another pony in the distance, standing under another tall oak, separated by an endless field. He stared for a time and could tell that the pony had a blue coat and purple mane. He tilted his head slightly; he thought for sure he recognized the pony.

“Quicksilver.”

The pony spoke again, this time even clearer. His eyes widened. It was his sister, Silverwing. He began running towards her, calling out her name. However, the further he ran the further she seemed to move away. He was galloping now, his lungs heaving, but despite his efforts, the distance between them only grew and she was moving away from him. He tried flapping his wings, but soon found that they were both broken, dragging behind him like heavy plows. He called to her, screaming that he was there. However, she soon vanished, and the tree she stood under disappeared altogether. He stopped, breathing heavily and with tears streaming down his face.

“Silverwing,” he said as his tears fell onto the grass below. As soon as he said her name, the landscape around him turned white, and then he woke up.

****

Quicksilver had awoken, and he felt a cold air surrounding him. He shuddered slightly from the unexpected breeze. He cracked an eye open and saw that he was in a tent, and that the flap was blowing in cool air several feet away. He was lying on his right side, his body covered in some sort of blanket. He blinked a few times and pulled the blanket closer, trying to keep himself as warm as possible.

“Finally, you're awake,” a feminine voice said. He opened his eyes a little more and turned his head to the voice, seeing a griffon sitting by his side. The griffon had white feathers, same as the other griffons he had met. The griffon also had a brown body and red around the eyes and tips of the feathers. The only difference was that the color was a deeper shade of red, almost contrasting his blue coat. He observed the griffon for a moment, wondering how long it has been sitting there.

“Here, drink this.” The griffon offered a wineskin and his eyes widened in realization at what he was staring at. The griffon was a hen, a female of the griffons. He never saw a hen before, yet didn’t think he would see one in person. The female griffon, compared to the male one’s, was a bit small in height. Although, when comparing his height, she was obviously a few inches to a head taller than him. The longer he stared at her, the more she grew irritated.

“Are you going to sit here gawking or do you want the wineskin?” she asked again, annoyed. He looked at what she held and saw the leather pouch before him. His mouth felt so dry and he eyed it with a deep thirst. He nodded his head to the hen and rose himself up out of the confines of the blanket. He felt his body shuddered from the warmth escaping him as she placed the wineskin at his side. He grabbed it with his hoofs and uncorked the top and began drinking the liquid down. Cool fresh water ran down his throat, soothing his dry mouth with ease. He was drinking at such a quick pace that he didn’t realize he was choking. He spat out the wineskin and began coughing fast. Every time he breathed in with each breath, another coughing fit would erupt from him; he never even realized how thirsty he was.

“Take it easy. You're shouldn’t overdo yourself,” the hen said, her annoyance ever present. When he finally calmed himself and was breathing normally once again, he took the wineskin and drank at a slower pace. When he stopped for another breath, he turned to the annoyed hen.

“Never thought I see a griffon showing compassion,” he said with a small smile, causing the hen to laugh at him. He was not expecting such a response and his smile slowly retreated.

“You ponies still use that demeaning word,” she said as her laughter subsided, bearing a smug look on her face. “The proper word that we call ourselves is ‘Gryphon’s’, not ‘Griffon’s’,” she corrected, her face remaining the same. Quicksilver remained silent as he pondered her words. Normally the word griffon was always used in Equestrian society and that it was the norm to call them that. He didn’t even know if it was taboo to even refer them to that, or he might even be overthinking this.

“Also,” she added, distracting his thoughts, “I’m only helping because I was told to help you. Don’t mistake my charity for kindness and friendship. We are not the same, and we are not friends; make no mistake. You're still my enemy, and I will end you if you pose a threat to me or to my clan. You can count on that.” She finished, her golden eyes staring down at him, almost feeling as if she was piercing into his soul. Quicksilver’s ears flattened to the side of his head and he backed his head somewhat. Somehow the females were more intimidating than the males. As he carefully took another swig from the wineskin, the griffon (or gryphon) was grabbing something from the side. He watched as she pulled out a small bowl that had some sort of soup and a small piece of bread. The sight of the food made his stomach grumble and he swallowed the lump of water in his throat.

“I… I guess that’s for me?” he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. The response was a quick growl from the gryphon. He instantly went silent and his body almost jumped in surprise, pushing the blanket off him. He cringed slightly at this because of his left wing went out and the bones in his wings refused to respond. He looked down at his wound and feared that it would become permanent. He also took notice of the small cuts and scratches along his body, with a few differences. He noticed small bandages along his body, covering the more needed areas and leaving the small cuts to heal on their own. How they got there in the first place was uncertain to him, yet he didn’t rule out the hen having a claw in this. His wounds would eventually heal in time, but most likely the bigger ones will leaves scars on his side and chest.

“I see that your wing has not healed,” the gryphon hen observed, setting the food off to the side and standing up in her full height. Quicksilver looked up and was able to take in the full size. Indeed she was taller than him, her wings stretching out slightly to show her form. She was a fearsome creature and he didn’t want to do anything that might provoke her. She leaned down and examined his wound, taking the left wing with her claw. He flinched slightly as she held it. The more he thought about it, the more he believed that she would rip it off right then and there. But she didn’t. He was more surprised as to how gentle her claws ran through his broken wing, each small appendage slipping through his blue feathers. At first, he was unsure as to what she was doing until her claw touched a sensitive spot. He flinched slightly at this and this caused the hen to take notice.

“Ah, here’s the problem,” the gryphon said, still holding the sensitive spot of the wing. Before Quicksilver could say anything, the hen pulled the wing to the farthest extent. A loud pop came soon after and he let out a noiseless cry as she forced the wing to stick back out. Pain was returning to his mind, and he let out a stifled groan as the hen moved the wing back into position.

“Oh quiet, you fletching. This will only take a moment,” the hen said as she calmly moved the wing up and down. Quiksilver continued to grunt in discomfort as she moved the wing back into original position. He heard few audible pops from the bones readjusting and more pain continued to crawl up his body. He lowered his head until he touched the tent floor, feeling like his wings would fall off from all the suffering. A final pop from his wing and he gasped; it was the most unbearable pain he had ever felt. He panted and breathed heavily as he felt his wing placed back to his side, the throbbing sensation remaining ten-fold. He felt something placed around his wing and he turned his head to see that the hen was already bandaging his wing.

“Your wing was broken in several places. But it’s not as worse as other wings I’ve seen,” she said as she wrapped the bandages around his wing several more times before cutting the end off with one of her talons. After another moment of silence passed, she tied up the wound and his body wheezed out from the pain. Once tied off, she examined her work before retrieving the soup bowl and bread. She placed the food next him as she stretched out her wings.

“Eat up and get some rest. That wing of yours will be fine after a while,” she said before heading toward the tent entrance. She pulled back the flap, letting the cold air slip inside. Quicksilver shuddered at this as the hen whispered something to a stationed guard. After finishing what she had to say, she looked down at him as he tried to huddle up from the cold.

“Your body will get use to the cold, fletching. Eat up and rest. If you want to walk about, the guard stationed here will keep watch over you.” And with that the hen left, leaving him to his thoughts.

He waited there for a time, letting himself get warmed up as he tried to fight the cold. Despite the best he could do, he still felt the cold chill crawl up his spine. Not for the cold that still clings in the air, but for what the hen did to him. He could feel his wing again, but the pain remained. The griffon had that strength to rip it out of his socket and was able to reposition back into place. The thought plagued him of what else the hen was capable of. A sudden grumble from his stomach turned his thought to the food. He eyed the soup and bread, which were likely cold by now. Forcing his head up, he quickly went into his food, taking in every small bite that it could over.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

After finishing the last of the bread, he settled himself back down onto padding and lifted the blanket back over him, returning to his awaiting dreams.

Author's Note

Hope you like this chapter. Next one will be out shortly.

Delays and Rumors Abound

Silverwing cursed under her breath at the rotten luck they had. She had awoken early in the winter morning, observing her surroundings of a camp they made the night before. The entire ground had a fresh batch of snow, undisturbed by her sleeping platoon. She breathed outward, her breath visible in the morning air. She closed her eyes and her mind fumed at the past days’ events.

They were prepared to leave right then and there to search for her brother. The request for her orders, however, took longer than expected. Many of the supplies that she needed were being distributed among the populace of Prancy, getting the ponies secured and returning the city back under the militia's control. Mass stocks have been sent out and she had to wait an additional two days before another supply shipment came in. Even then she had to deal with the other regulations, getting permission from the higher ups just to get the necessary supplies.

She also had to account for delays in getting a few more soldiers in her ranks. The Equestrian army and her allies have been spread thin throughout Prance, and many small companies of troops have been separated and moved into different units, causing many delays and wrong orders to be dispatched. She did manage to gather at least ten more royal guards to accompany her on this mission, but getting enough supplies to keep them going was another thing that plagued her mind.

With the winter starting to settle in, the storm was starting to grow stronger over the High Tail Mountains. They had to get a few supply wagons that would support them all, but the snow and the winds were slowing their progress. The addition to the supply wagons and the extra troops slowed their travel, and she calculated that it would take at least four weeks to reach the mountains.

Four long weeks that her brother will have to endure.

It would pain her if he was taken to the griffon borders, or worse, his dead body put on display from a hanging tree. She shuddered at the last thought. She knew the things the griffons would do to their victims; the dead griffon they had left on the hill was evident enough. She could only say a soft prayer to the goddess to keep him safe.

“Captain Silverwing,” Shadow Hunter’s voice came from behind her.

“What is it?” she asked, her ears pointed backwards to hear him.

“There is a visitor here for you.” She turned to see him when she spotted a figure behind the trees. Shadow Hunter stepped aside and allowed the figure to step forward. Silverwing’s eyes widened.

It was a Cervine, a deer folk. The Cervine had a brown coat with white spots around his hooves and green eyes that stood out in the early morning sun. His chest had additional fur around the neck and head, most likely to keep him warm from the winter cold. He had a silver-red armor that covered his lower back and around his barrel. He was at least a foot taller than she was and his long antlers only made him even taller. The Cervine soon stopped several feet in front of her and bowed, his antlers nearly touching the ground.

“Captain Silverwing. I am Captain Strong Oak, Leader of the White Tail Rangers. I’ve come to offer aid in your search for Lieutenant Quicksilver.” He raised himself up as she stared up at him in surprise. She was not expecting to receive aid of any kind, especially on this trip. Hearing this made her smile and she bowed low to the Cervine, as was custom.

“It is an honor to be gifted with such an offer. But I must question as to why? Why are you wanting to offer aid and how did you hear about my brother's disappearance?” she questioned, staring back up at the large Cervine.

“You are a sharp one, Captain Silverwing, just like your brother. It is true, I know of your brother, and I know of his assault on Prancy. He defended against waves of griffons that would break any line and bravely faced them head on. As to how I know him, it is quite simple: He saved me when I was cornered by Diamond Dogs at the battle of the Craig, many moons past. I am indebted to him for risking his life for me.”

Silverwing remembered that battle. The battle took place before the Ghastly Gorge, where an army of Diamond Dogs were on the march to reach the inner lands of Equestria and to plunder as they will. She took place as the rear guard in case any of the Diamond Dogs managed to escape through the main lines. Her brother was fighting near the front, where both Equestrian forces and their Cervine allies fought valiantly together against the Dogs. A small smile crept up her muzzle at the thought.

“It seems that Cervine never forget a debt,” she said, causing Strong Oak to give a small smile.

“Indeed. The Cervine of Whitetail Woods never forget a debt. Our memories are vast and we can remember those who come before, just as the trees are ancient themselves,” he said with some confidence in his voice.

“Well then, if you are willing,” she said as she offered a hoof to him, “then I will humbly accept you into our ranks.” Strong Oak looked down at her hoof and accepted it.

“Then are goals are mutual,” Strong Oak said as he turned and gave a whistle to the woods. A moment passed and Silverwing saw a dozen or more Cervines coming out of their positions. She was surprised that they had been hidden so well. Some were so blended in that they had appeared to be coming out of the trees themselves. The Cervine came in different shapes and sizes, along with an assortment of colors from browns to light orange coats. She counted at least twenty of them as they all gathered around their leader. She saw that they all carried bows and a few carrying short curved swords. She could eagerly await to see them in the battles ahead.

“We are proud to fight alongside you. My band and I will fight with you as if you were our own. May our victories be as glorious as the risen sun in the sky,” Strong Oak said as he gave another bow. She returned his gesture in kind as his band began heading into the camp, where the other guards and militia greeted them.

“You also need not worry about feeding or providing supplies,” he spoke as he moved alongside Silverwing into the camp. “We can easily forage for our supplies and scout the terrain for our daily needs.”

“That is good to hear,” Silverwing said as Strong Oak continued into camp. She stopped and turned to Shadow Hunter, who was trailing behind her.

“We’ll break down camp within the hour. We depart at noon. Relay this to the others.”

“Yes, Captain.” He did a quick bow before heading off into the camp. As the camp became more active, she could only watch at the soldiers that had gathered. With addition to Strong’s band of rangers, her force was now seventy strong, a sizable force that could take on any squad or any platoon of griffons that come before them. She breathed a sigh of relief and hope, a single thought entering her mind.

Hold on just a little longer, Quicksilver. We’re coming.

****

Quicksilver groaned as he stirred from his rest. He shook his head slightly, trying to get awake. He felt hunger in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered how long he had been out. He looked down and saw that the food bowl he had earlier was now gone, with no replacement. He looked around the tent and saw nothing else in particular, other than a bunch of hay in the corner. The room was only about seven feet in length and five feet in height, and it appeared it was still large enough to room at least two ponies. Other than that, there was only him and the blanket he had wrapped over him. Feeling nothing else better to do, he lifted himself up from his position. He wobbled at first and almost lost his balance.

C’mon now. You can do this. You can walk this off, he thought as he moved cautiously. He found his strength returning to his legs as he moved around the tent. The room was spacious enough to make some wide circles around the whole room. When he felt comfortable enough, he went to the entrance flat. He paused for a moment as he felt the cold air around him. Taking a deep breath, he spoke softly to the guard outside.

“Hey, I’m coming out now. I‘m not going to do anything. Just need to stretch my legs.”

He heard no reply.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he pushed back the tent flap and walked outside.

Once outside, he saw that he stood near the edge of the camp. He also saw the dozens of tents positioned within the mountain side. The whole encampment had a number of torches strewn about the cave and a large bonfire was in the center, a large tent standing several paces away from it. He saw a number of gryphons walking about, some still clad in armor while others walked in simple cloaks. A chill ran up his body from the cold and he looked up to the roof, seeing that the storm will still going on high above. He breathed out and he could see his breath in the air. He heard the guard nearby clear his throat and he turned to see the stationed guard.

The gryphon before was clad in silver-plated armor and carried a large spear. The gryphon had a white upper head and purple feathers surrounding his golden eyes. Quicksilver wondered what was different with these gryphons and the other ones he seen. He laid the thought to rest as he tried to take a step forward down the path.

“I’m going for a walk. You’re fine with a prisoner getting a little time to wander around, right?” he said, giving off an unsure smile. The gryphon only stared at him, remaining ever silent. Quicksilver’s smile faded and he decided to move down the path. He heard the gryphon follow him, his armor clacking as it moved down the beaten path. He soon reached the bottom of the small hill and looked about to the other gryphons going about their business. Some were building new tents, relighting fires or being sentries among the camp. Quicksilver kept a sharp eye on them as the gryphons observed the camp. They kept vigil over everything that moved and they were ready to kill if need be. Taking another breath, he began to move around the camp, his silent guard following close behind him.

As he moved through the camp, he kept a watchful eye on the things around him. At the same time, however, he also had many pairs of eyes staring at him. Whenever he turned a corner around a tent or pass by lit torch, he could see the a few gryphons staring at him, their eyes ever fixated on him and wherever he moved. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind trying to process the number of times that the gryphons had pulled a blade at him or stared him down like a rabbit among a pack of wolves. He pressed on, keeping his focus on walking.

He soon felt a sudden an urge within him, and he looked around to see if there was a latrine or dug out. He spotted a large hole at least fifty feet away, where a pair of guards were stationed. Thinking it lead to a latrine, he moved forward toward the entrance, only to be stopped short by his guard. The gryphon had placed a wing in front of him, and giving small growl that was low yet audible. Quicksilver took a step back and looked back at the hole.

“I guess that’s not the place to relieve myself?” he asked as the gryphon continued to lock eyes with him. The guard soon grunted and motioned his head in a different direction, taking the lead. He decided to remember that entrance before picking up the pace behind the guard.

He followed the guard for a time before the gryphon stopped at a small section within the cave, which was tall enough for a gryphon to move on in. Quicksilver moved forward a bit and saw that it was nothing more than a hole in the ground and a small bucket of water on the side. He took a whiff and his nose scrunched up from the smell. Wherever this hole lead, he didn’t want to know. He looked back and saw the guard stationed behind him, waiting for him to come out.

Well, I’ve used worse before. At least it’s better than nothing, he thought as he went to do his business.

A couple minutes later, and after washing his hooves in the water, he exited out of the hole and began walking around the camp again, the guard following his movements. It was only expected that the guard would be breathing down his neck, but he had to give it to the gryphons: They were committed to their security. At any given notice, they would swarm an area and defend it to the last gryphon if need be. He would know.

Soon he came to the center of the camp, where the large bonfire continued to rise high into the air. Many gryphons were gathered around it, keeping themselves warm from the frigid air. He also noticed that many were griffons with the brown feathers and a few whitehead gryphons. He could only imagine what clans they were from, or if they were just born that way. He looked about and saw the large tent nearby. As he looked at, it he thought resembled a mess hall. A line of gryphons were eagerly waiting for their food, each one carrying their own plate. Quicksilver took notice at the end that most of the gryphons had a few things of meat and something that appeared to be bread. He heard a few nearby eating away at their meals, stripping away flesh like it was nothing. He felt the urge to lose the soup he had earlier, but he was able to keep it down.

It was now that Quicksilver knew he was not going to be getting any more green meals.

A cool chill crept through the air, and his body shuddered. He may have been a pegasus, used to the cold air in the sky, but this far up in the mountains was a whole new thing. His body shook from the cold temperatures and he moved close to the bonfire, putting his hoofs out to warm himself. The fire was welcoming to him, but he still felt a cold chill hanging in the air.

As he stayed like that, he heard small talk among the other gryphons. Most of what he could hear were talking about him. He heard their disgust, their vile words, and their harsh tone toward him. He ignored them as best he could; he was their prisoner, so they’d have to deal with it.

As he continued to warm himself, he heard a conversation nearby that caught his interest. He turned his gaze slightly to the right, keeping his focus on the fire before him, but keeping his ears fixed on the conversation.

“I’m telling you, it’s getting bad back at Gryphonstone. There is whole mess of things with the other clans. King Bronzeclaw is taking some serious heat from the other leaders,” one of the gryphons spoke, chatting away to his companion.

“You really think that’s possible? I think they're only rumors. Our clans have remained intact for many centuries. There is no way that there can be any fallout from this,” the second gryphon replied. Quicksilver could only strain his ears to listen to this information. The words weren’t a problem, but their different accents were throwing him off.

Are they having an internal rebellion? Quicksilver thought as he continued to concentrate.

“I wonder what Ebon has to say about this or even his uncle. I’m sure he would have a voice in this matter,” the first gryphon said, eating his food while he spoke.

“Shh! Keep your voice down. A lot of gryphons here are not fond of him.”

“C’mon, Talon Wing. The general always has an answer. With what has been happening with the war and back at home, I’m sure he will have some sort of plan for all of us.”

“Yeah, I know that, Sky Rider. But some here have a bit of resentment to him as well. Especially the ones among Colonel Sharp Beak.”

“Ah, let them complain. Those nomads don’t deserve to be here. They have no honor when it comes to fighting.”

As the two continued the conversation, Quicksilver took in every word they shared. It seemed that there was a strained relationship between the Colonel and this supposed General. He also wondered why they mentioned ‘lower’ gryphons. It just didn’t add up to him, and all he could do was wonder what they were saying. He remained where he was, listening to the conversation taking place. All the while, his silent guard remained ever silent. He could imagine the gryphon staring down at him as he listened, scanning for any reason to yell at him. He just hoped that he wasn't forced away; this information was too good to pass up.

“Hey, Sky Rider,” Talon Wing said, his voice now in a low tone. “You heard about the rumors of what’s happening down below the mountain pass?”

“Yeah, I do. There have been reports of known bandits, and experienced mercenaries been disappearing of late. I even heard that one of our patrols had found some dead bodies surrounding the mountain base.”

“You don’t think it's those war bands that…Hey!” The gryphon yelled out and Quicksilver knew the reason. He was staring at the two as they talked and now the two noticed him gawking.

“What are you looking at, ya cheeky feather head!?” Talon Wing screeched.

“Yeah, why don’t you throw yourself in the fire so that we don’t have to look at ya, you plucking cunt!” Sky Rider called out.

Quicksilver’s ears flattened back and instantly stared down at the ground. The Gryphons laughed at him and he heard the two move up from their spot, taking the conversation somewhere else. He sighed inwardly; it was just getting interesting. The rest of the conversations that were taking place increased, and they were all focused on him. The things they said only seemed to worsen.

“New timber coming in!” he heard a voice bark out amongst the gryphons. He didn’t care as he focused on keeping himself warm. He remained where he was, hearing several gryphons move about, most likely getting fire wood for the bonfire.

He then started to hear something. Loud thumps, approaching him.

He listened intently, not moving from his spot, as the loud steps continued to approach him. When he finally turned to see what was making the noise, he looked up.

Very up.

His eyes widened.

It was a large bull-like creature. Its lower body had hair and hooves while the top half had a bare chest, all in a deep blue color. Its shoulders were broad, its arms were long, and its head hunched low with long horns reaching high. The bull creature was standing at least seven, maybe even eight feet tall, almost double his own height in four feet and six inches; which was around normal for a male pegasus stallion. The creature, to his amazement, was carrying a large tree with its bare appendages. The creature carried it like it was nothing and moved past the bonfire to the large tent. As he stared at the bull, he heard more thumping hoofsteps and watched as more of the creatures followed, carrying large stacks of timber and other small trees. They all moved close together, each one varying in height and having a different color on their bodies. He watched as they dropped the timber down like it was nothing and began moving to set up a tent of some sort nearby.

“First time seeing a minotaur, fletching?” a familiar voice spoke to him. He turned to see the hen approaching him. She was carrying what appeared to be some food on a tray, along with a couple bowls of soup that steamed up into the cold air. The longer he stood tall next to her, he saw that she was smaller than what he predicted, but she was still tall by at least a foot. Quicksilver shook his head at her and turned his attention back to the bull creatures. He saw one of them lift a large piece of the timber and stick it straight up while another bull nearby started hammering at the top of it with a large mace.

“These bulls come from a land called Tartarus. They are proud warrior race, and do not back down from a challenge,” she said as she moved to his side, leaning forward towards his ear.

“Don’t stare too long or they may get aggressive,” she half-whispered and he turned to her with wide eyes, his mind trying to process it all. She gave a small smirk and Quicksilver turned back toward the bulls, watching them smash the wood firmly into the solid dirt.

“And when they get angry,” the hen continued, “I’ve seen them pound a pony straight into the ground like a hammer upon a nail.”

Quicksilver slowly turned to her, his face pale, seeing the ever present smirk on her face. He then turned back to the giant minotaurs, whom began lifting a tarp over the pole and making a makeshift tent. He noticed the big blue bull turn, his beady eyes staring down at Quicksilver. The bull gave a loud snort and its face twisted into what appeared to be a scowl. Quicksilver took a nervous step back and turned his head away.

“I think... I want to lie down now,” he said as he headed back to the tent. His guard only chuckled, the first noise he ever made besides grunts, and the hen only laughed as they followed close behind. Quicksilver moved away from the bonfire and the winter air became that much colder, clinging to his body as he moved. He shivered considerably and he tried to imagine the warm heat from the fire, but could only imagine those bulls pounding the wood into the ground.

He shuddered at the thought.

He soon made it to the tent and he quickly went for the blanket. He immediately wrapped it around himself, but to his dismay it was still quite cold. He shivered as the cold blanket remained and he could only hope it would warm him up soon. As he stayed there, the hen entered, still holding the hot food. She placed the bowl onto the ground next to him and took her spot on the opposite side of the tent. She began to eat her own meal, picking at the meat with her talons. Quicksilver eyed the food before him and he started to feel queasy from hearing the sounds. Deciding to eat his food and get it over with, he began to eat the soup within the bowl. It was still warm and he was able to get warmth into his body. As he ate, he heard a chuckle on the other side of the tent.

“Looks like somepony is hungry,” the hen said as she continued to eat at her meal. “You’ll finally get some meat on your skinny bones, fletching.” Quicksilver paused into his soup and stared at the mocking hen.

“I have a name you know. It’s Quicksilver. Lieutenant Quicksilver of the Equestrian Royal Guard.”

“And I’m the princess of Equestria, ruler of poor peasants and whiny nobles,” she taunted, laughing the whole time. He bent his ears back and looked away; he knew that if he started bickering with her, he was only going to get the receiving end of ridicule from her. He kept silent as he continued to drink the rest of the soup down. Once finished, he turned his blanket around him and huddled as close as he could, trying to keep the warmth in.

“Oh? Not going to respond, fletching? Did I speak too harshly about your princess? Or are you prone to being innocent so easily?” she said, her voice low and ever belittling him. He took a slow deep breath and remained where he was.

“You going to say anything at all, fletching?” she asked again, her words more sharp than before. He still continued to ignore her, keeping his focus on the tent wall before him. He heard her place the food down and stand up from her position and he could see her shadow looming over him.

“C’mon, fletching, say something! Get riled up, get angry!” she shouted.

His patience was hanging by a thread. He didn’t want to provoke the gryphon, but he felt the urge to scream right then and there. He bit his lower lip, almost to the point of drawing blood and he remained still. The hen was standing over him now and he could feel her breath on down his back, which chilled him to no end. For a moment, she remained like that, breathing heavily down his neck as he remained frozen. Then she moved back and he breathed out some relief that she would lay off.

He was so wrong.

“I see then. Stay quiet for all I care. You stay silent as you see innocents die before you. Ponies like you don’t have a heart. Am I right, Fletching?”

His patience finally broke and he turned his head, lashing out against the hen.

“Don’t you dare think I’m not compassionate to the innocent! How dare you think that I don’t care for the ponies that are caught in the middle of this damn war! The only ones that don’t have a heart is you bucking clucks! Now leave me be, you bucking griffon!”

The moment he released his verbal assault, he was immediately met with a talon encompassing his face. His head was slammed to the ground and he felt the hen push down on top of him, her claw tightening around his head. She lowered her head to stare at him with piercing eyes. They remained where they were, neither moving nor hardly breathing. He felt one of her sharp talons touch his neck, almost piercing the skin. She lowered her head further and gave a sharp growl.

“That’s the second time you said that word. If you weren't our prisoner, I would have ripped your throat out,” she emphasized, placing her talon into his neck and pressing it firmly onto his muscle. He remained where he was, staying ever frozen and hardly breathing as she continued to push her talon into his neck. He felt that she could draw blood right then and there, but he didn’t show any emotion. He knew if he wavered, she would tear his throat out. They remained like that for a time, the two sides remaining still in a moment that felt like hours. Then she breathed out a sigh and lets go of his head and neck.

“You’ve got guts. I’ll give you that, fletching.” She turned away and sat back at the opposite end of the tent, picking up her meal and stripping away the meat that was left. Quicksilver breathed uneasily as he rubbed a hoof over his neck. He swore he felt her puncture a talon into his skin. He decided to remain silent, believing it would spare him another verbal insult from the hen. He tightened the blanket around himself and prepared himself to sleep.

“Gretchen,” the hen said, making Quicksilver turn to her.

“What?”

“That’s my name. It’s Gretchen. Are you going deaf now, fletching?”” she said as she tore into the last of her meal, before spitting out a bone onto her plate. Quicksilver shook his head and decided to leave it at that. Before he could go to sleep, he noticed her moving the plates off to the side and began nestling into the hay on the other side.

“What are you doing?” he asked, still clinging around the blanket. Gretchen, as she was called, lifted an eyebrow and gave a questioning look.

“I’m going to bed. What do you think I’m doing?”

Quicksilver’s eyes widened and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“This is your tent, isn’t it?”

“So you finally get it, do you, fletching?” Gretchen said, her eyes narrowing in frustration. “It was not my idea to have you be cooped up with me. Believe me, I am just as upset as you over this position.”

Quicksilver backed up a bit, his back almost touching the tent of the wall. He thought he would just be getting his own tent as a prisoner. He did not expect that the hen, which had him by the neck mere moments ago, was going to be watching over him and in this close proximity. Gretchen took notice of this and a wry smile spread across her face.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bite, as long as you stay on your side,” she said with a mischievous, yet sinister grin. Quicksilver’s ears fell back to the side of his head and he quickly turned away, much to her amusement. He rested himself back onto the cool ground and promptly went to sleep. His final thoughts were that of his sister, and he prayed that she would be safe.

Author's Note

Another surprise chapter! A lot of information has come around, so lets see what we can list.

Silverwing has gained allies in search of her brother.
Quicksilver hears about the rumors in the gryphon society and how hectic it has been.
Minotaurs.
Finally the hen has name. Gretchen.

What will things be like for Quicksilver? Stay tuned for more exciting chapters.

The story has only begun. :twilightsmile:

Laborious Work

Quicksilver tossed and turned in his sleep. He could hear their cries, their screams. Each one begging for forgiveness. Yet each of their voices fell on deaf ears as they were silenced before him. Each body fell, each scream went silent, and above all a single gryphon stood tall above them. It was Colonel Sharp Beak, and he stared down at them with great malice in his eyes. The Gryphon turned to face him, his eyes ever piercing. Quicksilver tried to back up, tried to get away, yet no matter what he did, the gryphon still kept coming. He felt himself pressed against a nearby wall as he kept coming towards, his claw reaching straight for him. The claw was placed on both of his wings. Sheer terror filled his eyes as the gryphon pressed firmly on both of his wings. Then, in one swift motion, he ripped the wings out of their sockets.

It was in that moment that he woke up. His body lifted him out of his restless sleep. Sweat poured down every inch of his body and he felt like his body was on fire. He took a shaky breath as he placed a hoof over his head. He started to count slowly, breathing out with each interval of time. After a minute doing this, he was able to breathe normally and get himself calmed down.

What kind of nightmare was that? he thought. He looked over to Gretchen, who had not stirred from his awakening. She remained where she was, enjoying a blissful sleep while he had his nightmare. A sudden chill from the cold forced him back into bed, making sure the covers were tight around his body. He pulled himself into a ball as best he could and he slowly drifted back to sleep.

Not a few hours later, after he returned to his slumber, he was awakened by a forceful push. Abruptly awakened, he turned to see Gretchen standing before him.

“Wake up, fletching. You’ve been called,” she said, forcing him up from the comforts of the blanket. He was soon on his feet and he was rushed outside into the cold. His body shivered to the all-too familiar sensation. He looked about and saw light snow falling from the open cave above them, gently drifting down onto the ground around them. He could see the gryphons mingling about and doing much work around the encampment. He was then nudged by his silent guard behind him and the three marched down the small stairs, towards the center of camp.

As he walked, Quicksilver inspected the lot of the gryphons. A few were stationed all around, standing sentry over the entire encampment, while the majority of gryphons he passed were out and about, working to build the encampment or assigned to other tasks. He noticed several new tents being pitched and other areas being dug into the ground. He didn’t know what they were doing, but he guessed that he was going to find out soon. After several more minutes of walking, he soon neared a decent sized tent, right next to the larger tent that was serving food. He looked about the center of camp and saw that very few occupants filled the center. The fire that was roaring last night has died down to small embers, slowly being replaced by the frozen snow. Before he could inspect the ground again, he was nudged in the arm by his guard and he followed Gretchen inside the tent.

“Brother, the prisoner is here,” she said as she stepped aside for the prisoner to come in. Quicksilver looked at Gretchen for a moment, in some surprise. He didn’t know that she was a sister to the leader; it made things all the more interesting. After getting past her, he was able to get a good look of the room around him. The room had a small number of furniture, ranging from a small desk, a table, and a several common chairs with detailed inscriptions, all of which were gryphon made. On the floor was fur-like carpet; it was soft to the touch and added some small measure of warmth from the outside chill. At the head of the desk sat Ebon Jager, the gryphon in charge of the encampment. He was sitting down and writing down on a parchment, likely orders for his subordinates outside. Next to him was a plate of meat, with some bone sticking out of the side. Quicksilver kept his attention on the food until he saw Ebon place a quill down and settled both of his claws onto the desk, locking eyes with Quicksilver.

“I take it that you slept well, Lieutenant Quicksilver?” Ebon began, keeping his expression neutral, “I hope that your first few nights here have not been too uncomfortable.”

Quicksilver remained silent, uncertain as to how he knew his name but the obvious guess would be Gretchen sitting beside him. When he didn’t reply, Ebon continued on, picking a piece of meat off the plate. “My sister has told me that you were walking about yesterday. I should have been present, but I was occupied by other affairs.”

Quicksilver remained ever silent. His only movement was his ear flattening when he heard the chewing sound of meat in the gryphon’s mouth. Ebon took notice of the silence and he lifted the plate of food to him.

“Care for some meat? I know pegasi in olden times would eat meat for survival, so I’m certain you would be fine with it as well.”

He felt the pit of his stomach growl at the mention of food, but he could not bare himself to eat something like that. There was no telling what animal they killed to sate their own hunger. He looked away from him as Ebon tossed a large piece to Gretchen, catching it in her right claw, who gratefully ate the food in silence.

“You are free to speak, equine,” Ebon said, placing the plate back down to his side.

“I’m not like those ponies from times of old,” Quicksilver spoke, making Ebon stir in response.

“So the silent equine finally speaks. That’s a good start,” Ebon stated, in a somewhat mocking tone.” Tell me, how are you enjoying your stay?”

“Well, other than the hostile tensions by your soldiers and the death stares they’re giving me, I’d say that life here is just grand,” he said, earning a chuckle from Ebon.

“That is true. They would rather see your head on a pike than stand the sight of you.” He chuckled again, but Quicksilver was less than enthusiastic. When his mirth subsided, Ebon began picking at his parchments on his desk. “Don’t fret, you're our guest here. As such, you are under our protection during your stay,” he said as he began writing something on the parchments.

“However,” he added, not looking up from his writing, “while you may be our ‘guest’, you will be working during your stay.”

“I suppose this has some doing with Colonel Sharp Beak?” he asked, causing the gryphon to look up at him in mild amusement.

“You’re a sharp one, I’ll give you that,” he observed, before going back into his writings. “Yes, he does have a voice in your care. He wishes you to be put under harsh labor and even torture you until you beg for mercy.” Quicksilver remained silent, his thoughts running at the dreadful things that he might unleash on him. “Although, since you are in my camp, and thusly under my care, you will be treated fairly. He may outrank me, but he does not have a voice in the Royal Gryphons affairs.”

There was that name again. He was certain that they were a different tribe, but what did it signify? What did it mean between the other gryphons? As he pondered, Ebon Jager motioned his head and Gretchen nudged him in the shoulder.

“You will be escorted to your workstation. As long as you work and do your part, you will not be harmed,” he finished saying, and Quicksilver was escorted out of the tent with Gretchen and the silent guard. He walked for a time, wondering what Sharp Beak wanted and if he really wanted to cause him harm. As he tried to process this, he soon found himself standing before an open area. Gretchen soon moved to his side, carrying a pickaxe in her claws.

“This is your job,” she said as she gave the pickaxe to him. “You are to dig this site until the ground is soft enough to place foundations.”

Quicksilver looked about the area. It was roughly fifty yards across and twenty yards away until it reached the mountain wall. He noticed the few other buildings around; they were small yet crude, and they looked to fit at least several gryphons inside. Seeing the area before him, it looked to be that they are going to create a fort or maybe a barracks. He looked back at the hen, who motioned for him to get to work. He nodded and took the pickaxe with him. He soon stood several feet away, holding the pickaxe with his mouth and looking at the ground. He kicked the floor with his hoofs and realized the ground was near solid rock. It would be difficult, but he would have to adjust to this new routine. Before he began, he turned back to Gretchen and his silent guard with an inquiry.

“Where is Sharp Beak, by the way? Isn’t he here with you?”

“Colonel Sharp Beak is currently on a hunting mission with a few other gryphons. He won’t be back for several days. Why do you ask?” she said with a questioning look.

“Just curious. You’d think he would be overseeing my progress, beat me when I’m lazy or take a whip and discipline me,” he remarked.
This earned a laugh from her. “Don’t worry; I’m sure he would give you those harsh punishments and many more. As long as you do as you are told, you will be fine.”

“That isn’t very reassuring,” he said as he lifted the pickaxe and began the long and grueling work of the day.

****

Hammer was working with Anvil on preparing their next campsite. They had traveled at least a dozen miles today, making significant progress due to the lightening up of the snow and wind. They soon had to set up camp when the night drew near and hunker down for the night. They dug deep into the hill, setting up their tents and making preparations for the night. They found a lucky spot within the hills, where little to no wind was entering inside. However, there was a small chill in the night breeze, and some areas within the camp had to be fortified with sandbags and mounds of extra dirt. After settling the tents and building a small fire, the large group of earth ponies began working on settling the tents for the cold night ahead.

Hammer pushed another large boulder into place, grunting slightly from the pain on his left shoulder. The bandage was from his injury by the griffon in the sewers. It was roughly a week ago when he had received this injury and it had healed slightly, but the pain remained constant whenever he worked or overdid it. He knew it would be a little while longer before his wound would fully heal. He was grateful that the apothecary gave him some extra medicines and some extra bandages to treat his wound, but it would be months before it would properly heal; a surgeon was impossible to find these days, for all of them have been placed near the front lines to treat the more serious injuries.

When Hammer tried to push again, he had trouble moving the last boulder into place. Eyeing the sky, he saw several of the pegasus helping move the large rocks into place by strong ropes. He noticed a pair finishing their load and recognized them as Crimson Wing and Heavy Blitz.

“Help me out will ya!” he called out and the two quickly moved overhead with the ropes. As he worked on getting the ropes on the boulder, he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“Hey, Hammer. You should let me handle that,” Anvil said as he took the ropes and began to tie it around the boulder. Hammer took a breather and stepped back, wiping away the sweat from his brow.

“Thanks, Anvil,” he replied, still breathing heavily.

“No need for thanks. You need your rest; you shouldn’t be pushing your shoulder.” He pointed his hoof at his friend’s wound. Hammer nodded and sat on his haunches.

“I have been working all day,” Hammer replied, taking a long breath and slowly breathing out. Anvil began settling the rope and moving the boulder.

“Take a break, Hammer. Come back when you’ve rested up.”

“Oh, so you're acting like my mother now?” Hammer asked in a sarcastic fashion.

“Don’t be a smart flank and go, Hammer,” Anvil replied, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. Hammer smiled and turned to walk into the center of the camp. The snow came lightly down as he moved about the camp. He observed as the weather around him continued to move at a natural rate. Normally, the pegasus would handle the weather and make it more simple and clear. However, with the war going on, many of the pegasus are pulled from the weather duty and left the weather to go on naturally, something that would unsettle any pony that don’t have control of natural events. Although, for Hammer, he didn’t mind it one bit. He actually liked the weather acting naturally, even it was a strange sensation.

As he continued to walk about the camp, he looked upon the new arrivals from the morning. The cervine group, led by their leader Strong Oak, were mingling with the militia and other members of the guard. The other guards in his group were already adjusting to the arrivals and the militia were already conversing about their livelihoods to their mysterious allies. He didn’t mind that the cervine were here; he was glad that there extra friends amongst the mysterious land.

“Hammer, there you are.” He heard the familiar voice of Shadow Hunter, the militia leader. He turned to see the old stallion walking towards him. He was a light purple stallion with a gray like mane from the yellow that remained. He stopped over and gave a look over of Hammer.

“Is your shoulder treating you well?” the old veteran asked.

Hammer nodded. “Hurts from time to time, but I manage with the medicine and ointments the apothecary gave me,” he replied.

Shadow Hunter gave a small smile before he turned and grabbed a cloak off his back. “I hope you don’t mind, but I want you to take this to Captain Silverwing. She’s been standing outside the camp for the past hour now, and I don’t want her to catch a bad cold.” Hammer received the item and gave it a look over. The fabric was soft and light, but it was still warm to the touch.

“Has Captain Silverwing been feeling well?” he asked as the old veteran grunted and turned to see the lone pegasus, just outside the camp.

“You should ask her that yourself,” he simply replied, turning to the militia members nearby and conversing with them. With his task at hoof, he turned to the outside of the camp and towards his captain. As he moved, he could see that she was still not even noticing his approach. As he drew closer, he could see her gaze fixated in the far off mountains. He looked out towards High Talon Peek; the tall mountains were very far away. After a moment of silence between them, he turned to his captain. Her blue coat shined bright from the fires behind them, and her silver mane, which had a blue streak in the middle, hanged down the side of her head. If she wasn't his captain, he would tell her that she looked very beautiful. However, his heart was not in the right place and it would never be as long as the war persisted. Taking a breath, he spoke her name.

“Captain Silverwing,” he said, startling her slightly. She turned and looked at him, as if for the first time that day. He looked at her blue eyes and she looked at his own. For a moment, she said nothing, only looking at him. Then, with calm breath, she spoke once again.

“Hello, Hammer. What is it?” she asked.

He quickly presented the cloak. “It’s getting late and I thought you might need something warm.” He handed the cloak over, and she began to place it around her. She welcomed it as if an old friend, and she breathed easily from the warmth.

“Thank you. Though, being a pegasus, I’m a bit used to the cold around here,” she said as Hammer stood in place.

“Just thought it might help,” he said rather meekly, avoiding her gaze for the silly notion. She chuckled at this and raised her hoof onto his good shoulder. He turned and met her in the eye. Again, her eyes captivated him as she looked at him compassionately. The deep blue eyes made him relax, and he felt both confident and content at the same time. After a few moments, she stopped staring and turned her head with a saddened expression.

“Hammer, you are an only child, correct?” she asked, her attention focused in the distance.

Hammer looked at her quizzically, unsure as to what she meant. He nodded, and that allowed SilverWing to continue.

“This war has taken a lot of families, Hammer,” she said with a solemn voice. “From it’s beginning twenty years ago to today, families have been torn apart. Even though I joined the war a few years back, I’ve seen enough fighting to last me two lifetimes.

“I shudder to imagine, but...” she stopped while taking a breath. “I feel like my brother will be taken by this war. Every time I think of him, I feel like he is barely alive, clinging to life to some goddess-knows squalor, while being abused or beaten by the griffons. But what I fear most is that he is forced to be in this cold and forced to stand for hours on end. He even could be dead and hanging by a...” She stopped herself and she looked down, her voice quieting and silent. She took a deep breath and calmed herself before turning her gaze back at him.

“I think you’re lucky, Hammer. You don’t have to worry about your siblings.”

As Hammer watched her, a strange feeling settled within him. He thought she was just having small trouble with keeping this company going. Instead, his perspective changed much more with her revealing word, but he wouldn’t know much about the higher ranking officials in the army and he wouldn’t necessarily pay attention to their family affairs. Hearing this now, he could only imagine the pain and stress she had for wanting to see her brother safe. The more he thought about it, the more he soon realized that she was determined to bring him back.

Is he the only family you have left? he thought as SilverWing motioned her head back to camp.

“C’mon Hammer, I don’t want to bother you with my life story. Let's go,” she said as she headed towards the inner campsite. Hammer followed close to her side, accompanying her as she made her way towards her tent. When she arrived, she entered her tent, but not without stopping and turning to him.

“Thank you for listening, Hammer. Rest well,” she said. With that, she went to close her tent flap.

“Captain,” Hammer said without thinking. She turned to him, eyeing him as if he had an important message to say.

“If ever you need a shoulder to lean on, then by all means I can offer one,” Hammer said. He immediately berated himself for suggesting something so foolish. He gritted his teeth, ready to be mocked or ridiculed.

Silverwing just laughed, much to his confusion.

“I’m not sure if you want to support your good shoulder, Hammer; otherwise, you might fall over without it.” She laughed again and it was then that Hammer realized her meaning. He looked to the side with a slight blush was on his face that (thankfully) she didn’t notice.

“I thank you for your concern, Hammer,” she continued, and he looked at her with hopeful eyes. “I would consider it, if you don't mind me chewing your ears off,” she said and Hammer nodded in reply. “Good night, Hammer.” she said with a smile, closing the tent flap.

Hammer let out a held breath, one that he didn’t realize he was holding. He then smiled to himself and began walking back to his friends. As he walked, he continued to hold hope in his heart that someday, whenever this war ended, that he might have a chance with her. It was big dream, but he was hopeful.

After contemplating these immediate events, he soon returned to Anvil and his friends, who strangely enough were having large grins on each of their faces. He looked at each in turn and then the question dawned on him.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked.

Anvil broke the silence. “It’s not ‘what is’, but ‘who is’, my friend,” Anvil said, still grinning as big as a cat.

Crimson Wing then stepped forward and pointed at him. “And that pony would be you, old friend.”

Heavy Blitz then stepped forward as well and patted Hammer’s good shoulder, all the while chuckling to himself. “You look like somepony who went for a normal walk, then you galumphed your flank back to us after meeting a mare.”

The trio soon began laughing, and Hammer’s face turned into a big cherry. He avoided his gaze from them and grumbled to himself. When they first joined as part of the armed forces, he and Anvil were always the young and upcoming bachelors in the army. They were then paired and later serve under Quicksilver’s command, and through him, they would meet his sister. Hammer was always teased for liking her, almost to the point that they would be a couple, much to his chagrin.

“Why do you pick on me like this?” he asked, and to which his friends so happily replied.

“Because you're fun to tease? Anvil asked.

“That she’s a captain, and a pegasus for that matter?” Heavy Blitz added.

“And she has a personality that doesn't resemble like sand paper?” Crimson Wing suggested, and the three laughed once more.

Hammer promptly shook his head.

“Jerks,” he said as he went back to work with the boulders.

****

Hours upon hours of labor made Quicksilver’s body sore. The continued clicking upon the stone floor with the pick axe made every muscle in his neck hurt. He had to even switch to using his hooves to beat upon the ground and even then his muscles were screaming out for rest. Every fiber, every coil and every tendon in his body had been pushed to their limits and he needed his body to rest. He worked for at least eight hours straight, with small breaks with bread and water, brought over by Gretchen. He was thankful enough that he was able to get a break whenever he could, because it was constant work in getting the ground set right. He had made progress with the area, turning up old stone and softening the dirt enough for it to be made steady. The difficult procedure afterward was to move the hard stone and loose dirt to allow a tiled ground, ready to be made for ground work that the gryphons are wanting to build. It was more difficult with his bandages and wounds. He felt the cuts strain underneath the fabric and he felt his body was going to spill open.

Yet, they held on as he worked. He could only wonder what kind of medicine they used to mend his wounds. He made it to twenty five yards, half way from finishing the other half until he heard Gretchen’s voice calling out to him.

“Hey, Fletching! Night is nearing, so you're done for today!” she called out. Quicksilver dropped the pick axe and rested on his flank. He breathed heavily, almost struggling for breath from the intense work. He felt the heat emanating from his body into the cold winter air, and his only wish now was retire for the night. He lifted himself up, his legs nearly buckling under the strain and exhaustion. He slowly moved toward the hen, yet every step taken sent small jolts of pain into his arms. Being a pegasus, his strength would reside mostly into his wings, where they were given the most training and proper care. With his wings out of the equation, his arms bore the brunt of the work, making his muscles sore and certain parts of his body tender. The pulling of the large dirt or pushing heavy carts was almost bearable, but the constant using of the pick axe made them more sensitive. He would have to be careful if he were to adjust to this new role.

“Well, I got to say, Fletching: I’m impressed,” Gretchen said as Quicksilver went to her side, his breathing slow and heavy. “Didn’t know that a sprite pegasus like you could manage a task such as this.”

Quicksilver was almost tempted to look at her and wonder if she was smiling at his hard work. That is, until she added, “Although, a gryphon would have finished your work in half the time.” She chuckled and Quicksilver rolled his eyes; he was too tired to make a remark to her. Gretchen soon escorted him back toward the center of the camp, close towards where the main fire pit. A few gryphons were up and about, but the majority seemed to be finishing their meals and heading toward their separate tents and hovels. A cold breeze hung in the air, close to a whisper of a wendigo, and he shivered by the cold. Despite his body already heated up from the long work day, it was not enough to keep the chill away.

Gretchen soon moved close to the fire and motioned for him to sit down. Taking a seat, he found she had already left for the large tent and was ordering something from the head gryphon there. As he waited, he could feel a few leering eyes upon him and he could see a few gryphons eyeing him with suspicion. He tried to pay them no mind; his own body was begging for relief, and he needed the rest.

“More timber coming in!” a gryphon shouted from a watchtower nearby. Quicksilver turned his gaze toward the tunnel, at least fifty meters away, and saw the first minotaur warriors marching in with large loads of wood. Even though he saw them doing this before, he was still surprised by the strength they had within. They carried the large stacks of wood and trees with ease and they didn’t seem bothered by the heavy weight they carried. He even saw several of them holding their large weapons and shields with the timber, moving about with such proficiency and ease. They soon passed by the fire and added the wood near the larger tent. Some began dropping their bags, which landed with loud thunks. The niggling thought from yesterday soon entered inside his head from Gretchen’s words.

I’ve seen them pound a pony straight into the ground like a hammer upon the nail.

He shuddered again and turned his gaze towards the fire, trying to focus his thought upon the flames before him.

It wasn't long until Gretchen returned, and he looked to see her holding a few plates of food. It was mostly bread and soup on his plate, while she had a few scraps of meat and some cheese. She gave his food to him and began to go straight into her meal, as Quicksilver ate at a slow pace. He dipped his bread into the soup and chewed slowly, savoring the taste that warmed his mouth. He relished whatever taste he could get, any small reprieve from the pain in his muscles and joints. As he continued eating, he could only listen to Gretchen chewing a bit loudly with her food. Pieces of meat ripped off the bone and into her, and the sounds enough were making him want to gag. He was able to manage it, but the sounds remained, making a chill crawl up his spine.

“You going to finish eating, fletching, or do you want me to finish for you?” Gretchen said. Quicksilver saw her pointing at his food, “Because you’ve barely touched your food and I’m willing to take it off your hooves, if you wish.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, holding close to his food, treasuring it like his hoard of gold. “Just trying to savor the food is all. A long day's work can do much on the body,” he said as he slowly began drinking the soup.

He heard the hen chuckle. “Impressive as it may be, you still need your strength for the days ahead. You should eat what you can get, not pick at it like a diamond dog on a dried bone.”

“Or an early gryphon getting the worm,” Quicksilver added, earning another chuckle from the hen.

“Something like that,” she said as he continued drinking the soup. That is, until she pushed a piece of meat towards him. “Though in this case, it would be the early gryphon getting the pony.”

His eyes widened and the muscles in his neck clenched. At the same time, he began to choke on his soup. He pulled the bowl away and started coughing up bits of the soup, all the while the hen kept on laughing. As he tried to compose himself, he felt her claw smack him on his back several times, stopping the coughing somewhat and allowing him to calm down.

“I’m only pulling your wing, fletching! We don’t eat ponies!” she said through laughs, continuing to smack him on the back and trying to keep him steady. After another cough escaped him, he turned to Gretchen with an irritated look. She had a grin like a damned manticore.

“I thought you were serious for a second there. Are you trying to scare me to death, hen?” he said, irritation with his voice and keeping his breath at a normal pace. Gretchen kept on grinning and returned to her meal.

“We gryphons tend to get carried away when we speak of such things. Sometimes we say things that may sound like it’s going too far, but other times it’s just for show,” she said as took another bite. “Besides, there are a number of things that you don’t even know about, our rituals, our customs, about us and our culture. So it’s to be expected that you won’t understand.” She finished by taking the rest of the meat with her beak and removing the flesh straight off the bone.

As she was finishing her meal, Quicksilver quickly finished his without hesitation. As he ate, however, her words struck straight into his mind. Since he was going to be here for who knows how long, he might as well try to understand their culture a bit more. Although, he would only wonder if they would be open to sharing their customs and beliefs. Would they be offended or would they refuse to tell? The question lingered in his mind, clinging to him as a rusty suit of training armor. He turned his gaze to Gretchen, who was cleaning her talons with her beak, and not once did she pay him mind. If he wanted to get something, it would have to be through her.

“Gretchen?” he asked hesitantly, hoping he was not making a mistake.

“Yes, Fletching?” she said, not looking from her work.

“I want to ask about-” He was cut off when a loud horn sounded throughout the cave. He looked around, trying to find out where the noise was coming from. Gretchen didn’t pay no mind but her gaze turned toward the large open hole. He followed her gaze and sure enough a large group of gryphons were entering inside.

“Colonel Sharp Beak and his band have returned!” the watch gryphon said from his perch, and dozens of gryphons descended to meet the arrivals. Quicksilver felt a deep pit in his stomach and an uneasy sensation began to crawl up his spine. His ears fell flat and he shirked his head away. He watched as he saw Sharp Beak coming forward as if he was a high lord, bringing in large racks of dead animals that were being dragged by his comrades. The sight of him alone was enough to make him want to turn away.

“I take it that you are not fond of him?” Gretchen said, taking notice of his movements. Quicksilver nodded and he eyed his left wing. The bandage still remained where it was and he shuddered at the thought of it being broken once more. He then felt a nudge from her and he turned to see that she was staring at him.

“You're not the only one who despises him.” she said, motioning her head towards the entrance. “Listen.”

Quicksilver focused on the sound. At first, it was nothing but the loud noises from the arriving gryphons. He was unsure what he was listening for until a loud cry filled the room. The first cry was joined by another and another until he heard at least several dozen voices crying out. He looked and saw what Gretchen told him. In the middle of the packed gryphon, there were large pack of ponies in the midst of the group. Some, from what he could hear, were women and children, desperately crying for help. The rest of the stallions inside were being pushed around by the larger gryphons and some were haphazardly thrown around and picked on by the larger predators.

When the group got closer and closer to the center of the camp, he noticed something else about these ponies. He saw them having tuft ears and their bodies were different shades of gray to blue. The majority of them also had wings, but they didn’t look like feathers of anything of the sort. It was when one of the stallions raised up and began hissing at the gryphons, revealing sharp teeth and slitted eyes, which he then understood who they were.

“Those are thestrals,” he said as he watched the gryphons butt the stallion with the end of their spears, sending him writhing on the ground. The thestrals, to his knowledge, were not seen since the founding of Equestria. It was said in times of old that they helped King Solaris and Prince Osiris to end the changeling threat that nearly took over Canterlot. It was said that Prince Osiris found these beings in the Everfree Forest and offered them a home out of the damned woods. In return, they helped the kingdom at their most dire hour and perhaps saved all of Equestria. The old stories afterward, however, never tell what became of them and they only appeared in old history to legend.

“I guess this is the first time seeing thestrals, fletching?” Gretchen said, eyeing the scene with distaste. He nodded to her and saw her glaring at the other gryphons.

“I’ve heard about them in old tales, but never saw one in the flesh,” he said as he saw them being corralled together in near several of the hovels. “I know of the description of them: the webbed like wings, their tuft ears, the fangs and their eyes. I mostly thought of them as legend.”

“Well, they are as real as you think,” Gretchen said back as the Thestrals were forced into the separate hovels. As this happened, he heard the sound of a whip cracking and a stallion cry out. The whipping happened several times, the cracking sound as it struck flesh. It made his body shiver at the sound, and he could only imagine the cruelty Sharp Beak is putting onto them.

“I’ve heard enough of this. Come along, fletching,” Gretchen said, much to his surprise. He followed the hen back to the tent, passing by many of the other gryphons. As he passed them by, he could see their distaste upon their countenance. It seemed the majority of them had the same displeasure of Sharp Beak as well.

Having soon passed them by, he moved his tired legs up the small hill and into the awaiting tent. He soon pushed back the flap and saw Gretchen settling herself onto her hay. He looked outside to see the hole at the roof of the cave. It looked very dark, and he could only guess it was already late into the night. He quickly went inside and settled with the blanket on his side of the tent, wrapping it around him like an old friend. He settled himself down, his aching muscles finally getting the rest he needed.

As his body began to relax he looked over to see Gretchen staring out off the side, not paying any attention to him. Her gaze was focused outside the tent, where the Colonel was still beating upon the hapless thestrals. Their cries could still be heard, and it lasted for nearly a half hour before the noise died down. Gretchen soon closed her eyes, and Quicksilver noticed her head shaking from side to side. The more he thought about it, the more Quicksilver began to wonder what was so different between the gryphons and if there was a deep distrust between them. Taking up the courage and the intuition he knew, he raised his voice up to her.

“Gretchen?” he asked, his voice low and humble. The gryphon opened a golden eye, staring at him like a predator looking down at its prey.

“What is it?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Can you tell me why there is so much tension between the gryphons here?” His response made Gretchen arch an eyebrow, and she lifted a talon to rest her head upon it.

“You really wish to know about our culture, fletching?” she said, a bit perplexed at his question.

“Well, yes. I wish to know,” he replied.

He heard a small chuckle escape the hen. “You won’t be able to understand, fletching. It’s hard to fill a cup that’s already full.” She gestured to him with the tip of her talon.

“Well, I guess my cup is empty. I know a few things about your military and tactics. However, I know little to nothing about the civil and cultural standing within. As long as I am staying here, it wouldn’t hurt to know more about it,” he said, hoping his words might be able to convince her to tell him more about the gryphons.

A moment passed and he could only watch as Gretchen looked him over, studying him as if for the first time. When he thought that she wouldn't say anything, a small smile appeared on her face.

“Well, I guess you earned that right, fletching. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but on one condition,” she said.

“And that would be?” he asked, wondering what she wanted to hear, though he was uncertain.

“You tell me about yourself and more of where you come from, fletching. Among my people, sharing cultures is respectable when we have such discussions,” she said.

Quicksilver was taken aback. He thought for certain that she was going to say something else that may either have been drastic or maybe even keep silent about. What surprised him the most was that she would be so open to share her culture to him.

He guessed he was proven wrong.

“I guess that's reasonable enough. What do you want to know?” he asked as Gretchen nodded in approval.

“We'll discuss this tomorrow, then; we can collect our thought of what we want to say.” He nodded and Gretchen adjusted herself until she was resting in her hay pile. As Quicksilver began to rest his weary body, his thoughts continued to run around in his mind. He began to wonder what kind of questions to ask and what answers he could give. He wondered what kind of implications he would learn from their culture, or how vastly different it would be. Only time would tell when all the answers would come forth, but at least it would be a start.

Author's Note

Some more detail to this grand story. Quicksilver know is working under the gryphons care and not under Sharp Beak. His life maybe a living tartarus but he is still hanging on. However, he also is getting the chance to learn about gryphon society and culture that he has never witnessed. Much will be told and learned between him and Gretchen.

As for Silverwing and her party, she still longs to be with her brother. She has her fears and worries and she has attracted concern from her companions, notably Hammer. Will things go for better or for worst? Will things improve, tune in for the next chapter to find out.

~Broman

Stand Up

It had been an interesting two days for Quicksilver.

He had continued working the same area, tilling the ground and removing heavy stones away so that a foundation could be built. His body ached from the constant moving, and he felt drained from the laborious work. Whenever he tried moving one of the boulders or pulling them with heavy ropes, his body would almost scream to stop from the constant pulling and tugging. His muscles would become paste whenever he finally finished for the day. His sore body, having to adjust to the new work schedule, had come to a new normal when working. The bandages on his body had healed as well, and there were only a few patches left that remained. The small scratches had mended and the few small scars that remained blended into his coat. After the day's work and eating the same meals, he had somewhat adjusted to the new lifestyle for the foreseeable future. Whenever he could, he tried to sleep for the night, hoping to get a small reprieve from the work of the day and constant berating from the gryphons.

However, despite his sleep, he did not get any respite from his awaiting nightmares.

For the past two nights, he had to endure nightmares that woke him up in the middle of the night. The first night, after Sharp Back returned from his hunt, he kept having nightmares surrounding him. The first night, he felt he was running, constantly running, searching for something that he didn’t know about. He was being chased by Sharp Beak and his soldiers, and they were constantly one step ahead of him. No matter how far he ran, no matter how fast he went, they were always on his heels, never letting up their pursuit. When he kept his frantic charge, he looked on ahead, seeing a white light at the end of his field of vision. There, standing in the the light, was his older sister, Silverwing. She kept calling out to him, wondering where he is. He kept yelling, screaming out her name, that he was here. But his voice fell on deaf ears and before he could reach her, he was surrounded and grabbed by the pursuing gryphons.

Though the first dream felt close to a nightmare, his second one felt more real than he could possibly imagine.

During the next night, he dreamed he was back in the city of Prancy. He was among the front lines, holding the deep trenches that stretched for one block to another, recently captured by their forces some time ago. They held the line for so long that it threatened to batter and ruin the garrison, yet they stood firm. Quicksilver would not trade anything to be with his brothers in arms. The very day he sent Hammer and Anvil to scout the perimeter was when the attack fully began. A horn blew long and hard in the midst of the city streets, and the tide of war flowed towards them. He watched as hundreds upon hundreds of gryphons came out of the ruined buildings and streets, attacking them head on into the trenches. It was a large scale assault and one that would not be dealt with easily. The gryphons crashed like water upon rock, crashing into the heavy shields of the Royal Guard and clashing swords with their hated enemy. He fought hard, facing insurmountable odds, fearing that no matter how many gryphons he slew, more and more kept coming. The gryphons kept him on his hooves, swiping with their claws and slashing with their swords and spears, keeping him off guard and making swing wildly with his sword. He felt the claws tear at his armor, he felt the blades cut across his body, he screamed and kept on fighting, trying desperately to push the gryphons back.

But no matter how hard he pushed himself, they just kept coming.

Soon the fight came to an end when he was hit from behind and he watched as Sharp Beak came over to him. He desperately frailed about, trying to escape, but the colonel would not give him any reprieve. The Gryphon pinned him onto the ground, holding him tight like a fish plucked from the stream, and in that moment, he placed his talons upon his left wing and snapped it in two.

That second night, he awoke with sweat pouring down his body, his dream feeling all the more real. When he looked upon Gretchen, fearing he might have awoken her, he found her fast asleep upon the hay pile. His rational thought was that she was a heavy sleeper, but he couldn't tell how bad he was writhing or possibly screaming in his sleep.

Regardless of the work load upon him and the restless nightmares he had, Quicksilver had his upside from these past two days. True to her word, Gretchen had gave him many cultures and customs of the gryphon race, and he learned many new things he never thought existed.

The first thing that Gretchen talked about was the Gryphon society had three tribes, similar to that of Equestria and their people, and this greatly interested him. The first tribe were the nomad gryphons, their feathers distinguished by brown to dull gray feathers. There were a large population of these gryphons, and most were conscripted into the fighting by their marquess and high lords. These soldiers don’t know the meaning of war and don’t know honor, as Gretchen had explained. When it comes to battle, they would use dirty tricks and shameful tactics to get their way. However, despite the conscripts and their way of fighting, the nomad tribe prides itself with their work in the arts and crafts within their empire. These gryphons were the breadbasket of the Gryphon empire; selling commerce and crafting were their specialties. The tribe could make wondrous deals and profitable sales, and sometimes compromise on deals that would seem outrageous to any ponyfolk, but were landmark decisions that both sides would agree on.

The second tribe were the Royal Gryphons, the proud warriors of the gryphon empire and the second largest population for all gryphons, distinguished by their white feathers and distinct colors. Gretchen and her brother Ebon were both of the royal gryphon tribe. From what Gretchen explained, the royal gryphons were more fitting in military roles and the most noble in their society. Honor is highly respected among the the royal gryphons and inner councils, and they also have a voice of reason when it comes to the inner politics. Gretchen elaborated that their own politics are always divisive, yet they are always willing to share opinions in the matter of all gryphons. There are multiple of factions, or clans as Gretchen put it, of the Royal gryphons, and a small number from the first tribe, each vying for a voice in the the Gryphon courts and many having their own agendas when seeking higher power. Gretchen explained that they can be vicious and sometimes deadly when it comes to opposing views, with some would be threatening to kill just get their point across. Quicksilver wondered how they managed to stay together despite these vast differences and views.

The final tribe were called the Arch Gryphons, the smallest of the tribes but the one that is most important. The Arch Gryphons are a tribe that specialize in magic, and are the most religious in the gryphon society. The Arch gryphons clan have a sacred order that many gryphons from all clans would worship. Saint Gregor, as Gretchen told it, was the pinnacle in their faith to the old gods, which Quicksilver didn’t even know they worshiped. The Arch Gryphons keep their faith sacred and were very wise. Some of them were healers and soothsayers, aiding any gryphon or giving advice to the troubled and weary. Others held vast intelligence, but they kept their knowledge to themselves. There were even times they would have a powerful Arch Gryphon known only as the Oracle. The gryphon chosen was the spiritual leader of Saint Gregor that could be lead by either a male or a female at any given time. Whenever the Oracle meditates, he or she receives a vision of current or future events. If he or she believes that there is a threat to their society, then the gryphons would listen and prepare with extreme prejudice. This oracle, from Quicksilver’s standpoint, was similar to a prophet of some sorts to their society. He even wondered what these ‘oracles’ were like and how much influence they had.

Indeed, it had been an interesting two days. He only hoped that this new learning would continue in the coming days.

***

“So you're telling me that you pegasus can manipulate the weather and make the climate suitable to your tastes?” Gretchen asked, a bit bewildered at Quicksilver's explanation.

“Yes. Most pegasus ponies can help push in clouds and allow rain to fall onto the healthy fields, creating the best crops from the farmsteads within the kingdom,” he said back.

This made Gretchen turn her head in deep thought. As she did this, Quicksilver took a look around to see the gryphons continuing about their business. He had recently finished working on the area that needed to be cleared for a new building. The dirt has been loosed, and it was ready for its foundation. He did, however, have some extra help this time. The therestals, which numbered around fifty, worked alongside him and made much headway in getting the dirt removed. During that time, he tried to start a conversation with the bat ponies, trying to see what had become of them. However, despite his efforts in coaxing them to speak, they were very timid around him, and some would look the other way as if ashamed. He even tried to speak to some of the children, which numbered at least five amongst the group, three colts and two fillies. But even when trying to speak to them, they were ushered away by the gryphons or were called by their parents. He even began to wonder if they could even speak the same language. He hoped in time that they would warm up to him, but for now, he guessed it was for the best to let them have their space.

After what seemed like minutes, which lasted only a few seconds, Gretchen stirred with a small smirk.

“That is a rare thing, to have control of nature like that. Although it’s quite fundamentally different for our people, fletching.”

“How so?” Quicksilver asked.

“For my kind, we sometimes pray for better weather. And when there is bad weather, we pray for the good. Manipulating the clouds and the skies around you feels almost too supernatural, like changing the way Mother Nature has presented it to us.

“In other words, many gryphons believe it’s an abomination against Father Sky, something I’m sure you're all too familiar with,” she explained. Quicksilver raised a hoof to his chin, now on the receiving end of the discussion. Between their talks and exchanges, he recalled their interesting facts, beliefs and sayings. Her culture was so vastly different from his that he could not comprehend how they did it all. But there were a few things that was interesting to him. Those small similarities that they had was between the love of the sky and air.

“Well, that would explain why some gryphons take ill will towards me or the other pegasi. However, that is something that we’ve been born with. It’s just second nature that we have this ability. Just as the unicorns have their magic and the earth ponies have their strength, we have our flight and move the weather. It all works for us, and we make it harmonious so that it works for all. If that makes sense to you, that is.”

Gretchen looked to the side, her mind contemplating on what she learned. As she stayed like that, Quicksilver thought for a moment himself then added, “What really surprises me is that your people have survived without surveying the weather. You explained to me about the arch gryphons and their magic, but you say they don’t interfere or control the climate or help with the seasons. You're risking your lives almost on a daily basis.”

“You forget, fletching, that we gryphons are tough, and we handle most everything when the weather comes,” she replied quickly, the confidence in her voice rising. “We mark down the seasons, whether they be good or bad. The records we make help us forecast what the next day or week will be like. Mainly, we have these safeguards to help us for an upcoming storm, or to ready our crops for a better harvest. We take pride in these accomplishments, fletching. It’s just our way of things.”

Quicksilver nodded, almost echoing the sentiment shared between them. It was true that they did have their differences, from just between the two of them, they could at least agree to disagree on certain subjects.

“Lunch is ready!” the head gryphon shouted out over the encampment, and already dozens of gryphons were moving toward the mess tent.

“I guess we’ll talk more later, fletching. Right now, I’m ready to eat a boar,” she said as she lifted herself off the ground and stretched her wings. Quicksilver followed suit, his aching muscles from the work groaning from the slight exertion. He felt an audible pop where his neck meets his back, and he breathed happily that he had blood flowing in him again as he turned to follow the hen.

As he moved, his body felt cold from the air around him, but his body has somewhat adjusted to it. The work for the past few days and the intense labor helped keep his body warmed up, but mostly exhausted afterward. Not a day went by where he felt that the cold wasn’t continually climbing, threatening to freeze the entire cave into a bitter and frozen tundra.

As he followed Gretchen towards the center of camp, he allowed his thoughts to wander. The winter had hit hard and early in the mountains, and a blanket of snow covered them (as he overheard from the gryphons). He heard that it was quite bad for flying, and the blizzard-like conditions made it difficult to see your own front hoofs. He could only imagine being thrown around in the gale winds and likely being smashed against the mountain side.

Quicksilver soon found himself in the center of camp, already with a line of gryphons, both regular and royal, all intermixed and waiting to receive their meals. As if on cue, Quicksilver took his seat next to the roaring fire while Gretchen went ahead. He watched her move to the head of the line as several gryphons parted for her, allowing access to the chef. He noticed some smiling at her and looks of appreciation among the royal gryphons. However, he also saw some of the nomad gryphons having disgruntled looks and seeming to be displeased. Whatever it was, the two groups did not share any fondness for the other. Gretchen was already speaking to the head chef.

Guess being a sister to the captain has it’s perks, he thought to himself as Gretchen was already getting the food she needed. He then thought for a moment, then mentally slapped his head at the thought.

You fool. Your sister is a co-captain in the royal guard. You should have known that, he berated himself as he tried to think of something else. When his mind kept on wandering, he looked up to see the hole in the roof of the cave. It was snowing lightly, slowly descending downward towards the ground around them. He felt the small flakes touch his muzzle, and he welcomed their soft touch.

He closed his eyes for a moment and his imagination took hold. He imagined going upward and out of the hole, his wings opening up to ascend out of the mountains. He felt himself fly over the land, gliding across the frozen, unknown landscape. He felt he could go on forever, flying lazily across the skies like it was his own.

“Here’s your food,” Gretchen said as she gave his food to him. Quicksilver looked down and saw the same meal as the previous days. It was better than nothing, at least. “It’s not much, fletching, but I hope you don’t mind. We’ve been on low supplies of late,” she said as she began eating her food.

“It’s fine,” he said, returning to his meal. As the two ate in silence, a small thought began to crawl into the back of his mind. He soon turned to Gretchen.

“Gretchen, you taught me a few things about the differences between your tribes, but why is there bitterness between the Nomad tribe and the Royal tribe?” His question lingered as the hen continued to eat. She chewed her meat at a slow pace, likely pondering his words or savoring the taste of the meal before her. He was unsure what was on her mind, but he might have struck a bad note with her. For a moment more, she said nothing until she swallowed the morsel of food.

“You know of our past king, fletching?” she asked, her gaze focused on the fire before her. Quicksilver nodded, allowing for her to continue, “Well, he was a nomad gryphon, not a Royal gryphon like you ponies assumed. His son, Bronzeclaw, since taking the throne, has done poorly after his father and has done little to help improve our lives.

“Since his father’s death, he has tried many times to take the fight against Equestria and her allies. However, he has made shady deals over the years, including gaining a failed alliance with the Diamond Dogs, and his persistence in destroying your civilization, until your culture was utterly erased. What he didn’t account for was your resilience, and your will to survive. Although,” she paused, waiting for a pair of nomad gryphons to pass, “he doesn't realize how far we have lost this war.”

Quicksilver took in every word she spoke. What interested him most was the history of their past and current kings, and how they may have influence over their empire. He paid absolute attention as Gretchen continued her lecture.

“Over the years since the Contact War began, he has been struggling from within the empire. He blames his advisors for his father's deaths, and has either thrown them out of office or had them executed without a trail. It upset many among the other factions, but that was common when you had failed advisors. But what he did next made them even more furious. He appointed many nomad gryphons onto his counsels and advisors, almost having little more than a talon full from either Royal and Arch Gryphons. I even believe that he had selected many of his generals to lead most of the grand armies. This is what caused the tensions to rise, and over the years it has further strained the relationships between the tribes.” Gretchen paused another moment, taking another bite into her meat.

As she ate, Quicksilver remained silent, his mind contemplating her words. He had never expected such deep division with the tribes, yet it seemed there was much more hatred, all because of one gryphon. The one reason that seemed to elude him was to why. Why would the current king of the gryphons have such a vendetta to continue on like this? What does he have to prove or to gain in doing such things? As the questions remained in his mind, he heard Gretchen grunt softly and he turned to see her smirking at him.

“You're wondering why I’m telling you all this, fletching. It’s quite simple: Every gryphon here knows how bad things are, and right now, each side holds the other in contempt.” She cast her gaze to the side and Quicksilver followed. He saw a pair of nomad gryphon staring out the Royals, looking at them with suspicion and superstition.Whenever the royal gryphons turned their way, they would quickly turn their gaze, and Quicksilver could clearly see the royal gryphons give leers to the lesser tribe.

“As you can see, each side holds such disdain for the other that nothing would get done. King Bronzeclaw has done nothing to ease this, only inflaming racial tensions amongst the clans, and there is only thing that is to blame for this.”

“And… what is that?” he asked, unsure what this conversations was leading to. Gretchen leaned forward, whispering into his ear and learning the long awaited answer.

“It’s pride,” she said, making Quicksilver turn to her in confusion. Seeing this allowed the hen to continue. “Pride is imbedded deep within my society. If there is a gryphon who wants something so badly, then they will get it however they can, even kill for it. When pride takes over the hearts and minds of any gryphon, then it completely changes them, makes them irrational, sometimes dangerous, and it's difficult to convince one to abandon their goals. When that whole nation is consumed by its pride, when they become so focused on success over all others, then they have created their own downfall. We can be a great nation, with gryphons who stand tall for their beliefs and values, but it is pride that will ultimately take over us. For the only thing we have to fear is pride.”

Quicksilver was utterly speechless, tranquility separating them and the small noise around him. National pride, in some cases, could be a good thing, creating a sense of identity and lift people's spirits. It’s seems to him that pride in the gryphons runs so deeply that it could be the same as greed. Something that can be acted so drastically that it can make them this dangerous.

“C’mon, fletching,” Gretchen said, finishing the rest of her meal in a few quick bites. “I got to take of a few errands, and you're going to have to be by my side. Now finish up and come along.”

As instructed, he finished the rest of his meal and followed the hen. As he walked by her side, his mind was still plagued by her words. If they were having this internal struggle, then what was keeping the gryphons from going at each other’s throats? What could make them have this change? How and why does pride affect them so deeply? The questions remained unanswered as he continued to follow Gretchen.

For a while, the two remained silent, passing by several tents and many other gryphons going about their business. Quicksilver kept his eyes open, seeing the various Nomad and Royal gryphons doing their daily tasks. However, most of them kept to themselves, never intermingling with one another. He looked at this, but he couldn’t imagine his own soldiers. Each tribe from the earth, unicorn, and pegasus tribes, were always enjoying each others company, and everypony had something to say. Walking among the gryphons and seeing them have this… this lack of unity, this disharmony. It unsettled him to no end.

As he followed Gretchen, he soon found himself in a different part of the camp. He could see multiple tents placed in a semi-circle, the center of it where a small fire pit was placed. When he drew closer, he saw the thestrals mingling about the tents. The small families gathered together around the fire while several others gave blank stares; they looked defeated and distraught.

Many of them hardly paid any attention to their approach, but when they did, they bared their fangs at him and the hen. Quicksilver looked over to Gretchen and she remained where she was, and it was here that he noticed something different in her eyes. There was no ill will or contempt inside them.

They were ones of pity.

Throughout the war, he always saw the gryphons having deep hated, leering, or deceitful eyes, and only a few times when they looked defeated. However, when he looked at Gretchen now, she had eyes that pitied these therestals. He never once thought he would see a gryphon with such an emotion, but she was the first to show him pity. He then thought about his wounded wing, and he wondered if she had any pity for him.

As he thought about this, he heard a loud flapping of wings approaching from behind. He turned and saw that it was his silent guard, bearing his same neutral expression.

“Ah good, you're here. Do you have the blankets?” Gretchen asked, not surprised that he was here. The silent gryphon made a noise that sounded like a grunt and he took off several large blankets off of his back. Gretchen walked over and grabbed the fabric, thanking him in the process. He soon left without a word, and Quicksilver followed the hen as she went to the thestrals.

Quicksilver walked alongside Gretchen as she began to give out the blankets to the thestrals around them. He watched in silence as the hen gave one large blanket to each of the families, and each one had either a small smile or gave much gratitude. He didn’t know why they were so receptive to her or to the other royal gryphons, but they didn’t show any resentment. After several minutes passed and the final blankets given out, Gretchen took a few steps back and turned her head toward camp. Quicksilver followed her gaze and noticed a several royal gryphons coming towards them. Some carried an assortment of meats, while at least two carried a large barrel. They each went among the thestrals, distributing the food to each of the families, and they all took it eagerly.

“Well, that’s new,” he said as he watched one of the colts happily munch on one of the pieces of meat. He felt his stomach turn inside out as the young one swallowed the piece and began asking for more in their own language.

“Well, thestrals have been known to be carnivorous and herbivorous. Since winter is settling in early, they resort to meat to sustain themselves. It’s the best we can provide for them,” Gretchen explained as she watched her fellow gryphons passing out the last of the food. The more he watched, the more he began to wonder if there was anything green to eat. His stomach churned, and he wondered what was in the soup he had been eating. He turned away, almost feeling nauseous.

“Oi oi, who’s giving out the food to these rats!” a bellowing voice broke out, making Quicksilver turn to the newcomer. He saw a large nomad gryphon, with a deep brown body and light brown head, marching his way towards the thestrals.

“What does that fat pluck want now?” Gretchen cursed softly at his side, and he could only look on as the fat gryphon came closer. He looked menacing due to his size, but it could also be that because of the extra girth around his waist. The griffon looked around the pack of thestrals, each of them slowly trying eat whatever food they could get, but he instantly swiped a piece of meat away from one of the of the younger thestrals.

“This food was meant for us! They don’t deserve any of this! Nothing but the bones of our kills!”

“We’re under orders by Ebon to feed the prisoners,” one of the royal gryphons said. Quicksilver recognized it as Talon Wing. “You can’t just take away their food, Black Talon. We must treat our prisoners with respect, not drive them into the ground!” His words drew signs of approval by the other royal gryphons, but Black Talon huffed out his chest.

“So we let these rats eat our rations and make us starve out faster? I will not allow it!” he yelled as he pointed at the thestrals.

Quicksilver looked at the gryphon, and recognized his voice. It was his captor from before. He was the one forcing him to march, beating him into submission and the one who had the idea to drop him in the air. He felt his hoof clench in the ground and narrowed his eyes in complete disgust. This gryphon was more of a bully to him and that he could handle, but having the gall to beat upon a child was even more reprehensible.

“So you would stuff your beak full until your fat and happy, which you already are,” another Royal Gryphon, Sky Rider, joined in, drawing a few laughs from his friends. Black Talon seethed in anger and he flared his wings.

“I will not be picked upon by you arrogant gryphons! These thestrals deserve no respect from me… now give me back my food!” Black Talon went to try and seize the food for himself, while the royal gryphons held him back. Both Talon Wing and Sky Rider kept pushing the large gryphon, but the larger gryphons weight was too much and they were shoved back with ease. Several other gryphons rushed him, pushing him back and flaring their wings, feathers flying all over as they pushed their weight into one another. Quicksilver noticed that they were preventing him from getting to the thestrals, and it seems they were not using their full strength. Before he could watch any further, he heard the hen on his side.

“C’mon, fletching, we don’t have to be here to see this,” Gretchen said, turning her head and beginning to move away. Quicksilver went to follow, but heard a loud shriek from one of the thestrals. He whirled his head and his eyes widened as Black Talon held a helpless colt in his claws. The royal gryphons that came his way were shoved into the ground like they were nothing. The colt was holding onto a piece of meat, trying eat it as quickly as possible, but Black Talon held his own talons onto the end, trying to rip it out of the colt.

“Give it back you runt...or I will eat your gizzard for dessert!” Black Talon yelled, continuing to tug the piece of meat away from the colt. The colt cried out as both of his parents begged in their tongue to let him go. The colt then drew his fangs and sunk them deep into his claws. He squawked in surprise, and Black Talon drew his other claw, ready to strike.

It was in that moment something snapped inside Quicksilver, and he began charging towards the gryphon, causing Gretchen to stare in surprise.

“Fletching, what are you doing?!” she called out as he kept on running, his hooves pounding upon the stone floor as he went straight for the corpulent gryphon. He quickly closed the distance and leapt up, his body turning slightly until his shoulder made contact. The gryphon had no warning as he was hit, his body twisting from the impact. As he turned, the small thestral was thrown into the air, crying out as it went. Black Talon hit the ground hard as Quicksilver quickly altered his position and catched the thestrals onto his back. He stared at the little colt’s slitted eyes, noticing that he was quite surprised. He could only give a reassuring smile. The young colt blinked a few times before jumping off and running towards his parents, who swept him up in their open hooves. The area was silent and every gryphon stared at Quicksilver in shock. Quicksilver readied himself to be tackled, ready to be taken down, yet they did not react, nor made a move towards him.

“Who did that?…Who struck me?!” Black Talon yelled as he scrambled back up onto his front claws. He shook his head once, a few feathers falling out as a result, then turning toward the only pony in front of him. His eyes narrowed and anger flashed across his composure, and for a split second, Quicksilver thought he saw teeth behind the gryphon's beak.

“You’ll pay for that, you whelp!” he screamed, lunging directly towards him. Quicksilver gritted his teeth and braced for impact.

But before he could strike back, a powerful gust of wind appeared right in front of them and another gryphon blocked Black Talon’s path. The stout gryphon stopped in his tracks as the royal gryphon flared his wings at him. Quicksilver noticed the scar running down the side of its beak, indicating that the royal gryphon was Deadeye. He held a claw onto his sword, pulling several inches out from its sheath, ready to strike. As this happened, more and more clamour erupted, and more gryphons from the nomad and Royal gryphons began to surround the group, taking their sides behind teach tribe. Quicksilver could see the deep hate they all had, and some were even brandishing their own weapons.

It was then he realized he may have stirred something more than he had intended.

“What is going on here?!” the voice of Ebon rang out as he flew towards them, landing next to Deadeye and ready to draw his own blade. Black Talon gritted his teeth and he pointed a talon directly at Quiksilver.

“This equine attacked me for no reason. I want to take his head as compensation for what he did to me.”

“Liar! You were trying to stuff your face by taking the thestrals food away!” Talon Wing yelled back, drawing much discretion from the nomad side.

“He attacked a child all for his want of food. He would be fine if he weren’t stuffing his beak every single day,” Sky Rider added. Black Talon seethed at him.

“Being heavy means I’m well endowed and that I am a healthy individual, unlike you gryphons! I will no longer tolerate your lot until I have retribution against this incompetent equine!” He flared his wings, many of his comrades squawking out in response.

“What is the meaning of this?! Ebon, why are your gryphons speaking out of line? This is most unbecoming of you.” Another voice entered, and Quicksilver turned to see the one gryphon he didn’t want to see. He watched as Ebon turned and he narrowed his eyes.

“Colonel Sharp Beak… your gryphons are out of control! That’s the problem here!”Ebon said, his words hostile. Sharp Beak only laughed as he stood next to Black Talon.

“It appears that it’s your gryphons that are the ones acting out of place. Besides, it’s your people that don’t know the order of things. They are giving precious resources to the enemy, supplies that we need for the war. Your gryphons are untamed and unpredictable. If I were you, I would court martial and hang the lot of them for giving out our food to these weakless and pitiful equines.” Sharp Beak said, drawing the ire of Ebon and the rest of the royal gryphons to glare back at them.

“What I do with my soldiers is none of your concern. This is my outpost, my command. Tread lightly; you don’t want to cross paths with me,” Ebon said back, as Quicksilver heard the distinct sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath. Another chuckle escaped the colonel and he shook his head at Ebon.

“Bold words. I look forward to ramming them down you throat.” Sharp Beak said back, causing some of the nomad gryphons to ready their weapons, ready to bear down upon them. “Also,” he added, “this outpost would deserve a better leader and learn proper discipline. Something that you have neglected to act.”

Quicksilver could only watch on as the gryphons sized each other up. He then recalled Gretchen’s words and he soon understood her meaning. The gryphons had their honor and pride at stake, and neither side wished to give in.

“Another thing,” Sharp Beak added, “Since I rank higher than you, I would believe I’m in the right that these beasts should be taught a lesson. Punishment for going against us.”

“You are a bloody fool,” Ebon exclaimed.“They may be our enemy, but we do not treat them like filth. You can shout and preen all you like, but all you have is just for show. You can do as your king wills it. But even he knows that punishing young colts and fillies was not something that we tolerate,” Ebon said with conviction, drawing much praise by his soldiers. Quicksilver could see Sharp Beak‘s eyes narrow, anger seeming to pour out of them as he stared at Ebon.

“Then we are at an impasse, my friend,” Sharp Beak retorted. “Either you let me have my way, or each and every gryphon loyal to you will pay the price for disobedience and tried for treason,” he stated, causing many of the nomad gryphons to shout out in agreement. Soon Ebon drew his blade, brandishing his weapon directly at Sharp Beak.

“Over my dead corpse, Sharp Beak!” he hollered, and many of the royal gryphons did the same. Readying their weapons for battle, the gryphons on both sides stood their ground. The two groups readied to fight, to kill, even to die. It was happening so fast that Quicksilver could not keep up. He dared a look to Gretchen, who could only stare out in shock at what was happening.

“Give us one of them to punish, even that colt there, or there will be bloodshed! Otherwise we will fight and paint this whole cave with our blood!” Sharp Beak exclaimed, trying to stare down at his bigger counterpart. Ebon stood his ground, puffing out his chest and appearing larger than him. Feeling the need to say something, Quicksilver cleared his throat and yelled for all to hear.

“If you want somepony to get punishment, punish me!” He called out, making each gryphon turn to him each one showing an astounded expression. Ebon and Deadeye took a step to the side, allowing Sharp Back to see the perpetrator. “I was the one who hit him. Punish me, not the child.”

Every Gryphon in the vicinity remained silent, staring at the pegasus that rose his voice above the clamor. Some stood there as if in a daze, while others held confused expressions. He didn’t care for what they had to say, but he knew that he would get punished. However, he also knew that the thestrals would not be harmed, and that was enough.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, a small laughter escaped from the colonel.

“Perfect. I’ve been meaning to see a proper punishment for the likes of you.” He lowered his claw and the rest of his gryphons began to sheath or lower their weapons. Ebon and many of his Royal gryphons lowered their weapons, yet did not yield their stance. Quicksilver took a step forward, as two approaching gryphons came at his side and brought him closer to Sharp Beak.

“I guess the proper way to deal with this instigator is to have the ones he supports be the ones to punish him.” His eyes turned toward the thestrals, and they all stared back with uncertainty in their eyes. “Each stallion and mare will punch him in the muzzle. Only fair, so that we don’t have to beat him. Otherwise...” He gave a sinister grin. “...he would be unconscious by the first few hits we made,” Sharp Beak said, then awaited the answer.

Quicksilver turned, eyeing Ebon, who was in deep thought. It appeared more likely his actions may have caused the two sides to cease their hostile threats, but he also knew for a certainty that Ebon would most likely have to compensate for Sharp Beak if he intends to keep his word. After a few moments a silence, Ebon responded.

“Do what you must,” he said, sheathing his blade. The rest of the royal gryphons did the same, all except for Deadeye, who kept his blade part way from the sheath, ready to bringing it out at a moment's notice.

It wasn't long until the nomad gryphons gathered all of the thestrals together, forming a single line in front of Quicksilver. He stood there, two nomad gryphons at his side, as he awaited for the first of many blows. Sharp Beak moved forward until he stood next to Quicksilver, his eyes never wavering as he stared at the equine before him.

“You had the gall to strike one of my gryphons,” Sharp Beak began. “And that is the real problem with you ponies: You're too plucking proud.” He snapped a claw outward, forcing the first thestral to move forward. “What's worse, little pony, is that it was bad enough that you were above us. Now...” He stared Quicksilver directly in the eye. “Now, you don’t even see how far you’ve fallen,” he seethed, and Quicksilver looked him in the eye. He saw that look before, the look of a mad gryphon.

“Still high enough to look down at you,” Quicksilver replied without thinking. Sharp Beak snarled at him, then he snapped a claw directly at the first thestral.

“You. Hit him,” he said, cold yet menacing. The nervous thestral nodded slightly and slowly went up to Quicksilver. As he approached, he was able to get a good description of the stallion. He had a deep blue coat and litted red eyes, his wings were thin and leathery. Quicksilver thought for a moment they were see through, but he wasn’t sure. The thestral said nothing, looking as if he was about to do something that he was going to regret. He lifted his right hoof and Quicksilver saw something he thought he would never see.

The thestral was crying.

The moment he saw it, the punch came soon after, striking him directly across his cheek. Quicksilver’s head whipped to the side from the blow; the thestrals were much stronger then they looked. Soon after his head came up, the thestral was forced to move to the side, allowing the next one to take his place, this time a female with a light gray coat and gold eyes. As she lifted up her hoof to strike, he noticed a bit of hesitation from her. Her hoof was shaking and she felt she didn’t want to hit at all. She shook her head and looked away not wanting to hit him.

“You should do it quick. The faster you get this over with, the better,” Quicksilver said, trying to reassure her, not knowing if she could understand him. One of her tufted ears spinned in his direction and she was looking at him from concern. Then, not a moment later, she drew a clenched hoof and brought across his right cheek. The second hit was not as bad as the first, but it still stung. He could only hope the rest would be quick.

He felt he was back in training all over again.

One by one, each thestral came forward, each one bringing a hoof across his face and muzzle. Blood began to pour out of the corner of his mouth, and his face was becoming more bruised with each hit. Each thestral that struck him, he could see the pity in their eyes and their apologetic gazes upon him. He knew that they didn’t want this, but they had no other choice. As this happened, the royal gryphons remained standing, watching the punishment take place. Ebon could only watch as the beatings continued. The gryphons at his side stood silent, watching the the prisoner, their enemy, take every blow, every strike, being beaten for standing up against them.

Several minutes passed and the final thestral laid the last blow, then joined the others. Quicksilver was sitting on his haunches, being held up by two of the nomad gryphons. Forty five direct hits, forty five painful strikes, yet he was able to endure them all. He felt blood going down his lips and forming a small puddle on the ground. Small blood droplets splattered upon the snow on either side of him, created when his head whipped to one side or the other. He breathed heavily, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Very impressive, equine,” Sharp Beak said, standing before him. “You managed to hold your own. However, you will suffer the final ones from my right claw,.” he said. Black Talon then moved forward, cracking the bones in his claws with loud audible cracks. He placed himself in front of him, as he heard much protest from the royal gryphons.

“Do you have no honor?! He’s been given his due!” he heard Ebon call out as Black Talon pulled his claw back. Without a reply, he brought his clenched claw upon him. The force was unlike any other he has faced. He felt as if his bone in his cheeks been ripped apart, then rapidly and painfully came together again. Blood sprayed upon the snow once more, and his head was reeling from the force. He felt his head lift up by his talons and felt a left hook across his other cheek. One after another, Black Talon had his way, striking painful blow after blow against his head, on some occasion ripping a few short strands of his mane in the process. After a minute of continuous blows, Sharp Beak raised a claw, stopping Black Talon from continuing his rampage, his talons wrapped tightly around Quicksilver’s throat, holding him in place with his other claw ready to continue on. Quicksilver kept staring up, still trying to stay conscious, yet he was struggling to maintain himself. He soon felt the talons leave his throat and the two gryphons that held him up moved to the side, allowing Sharp Beak stand before him.

“This is what you all will learn when you disobey,” Sharp Beak said, looking upon the thestrals who remained still and shaken. “You ponies need to know when you're beaten,” Sharp Beak said. He then quickly turned to Quicksilver and punched him directly in the cheek, sending him back several feet from where he sat. He laid still on the ground, coughing up blood from the ferocious blow. His eyes blurred somewhat and he was able to refocus, only to stare at Sharp Beak standing over him.

“You ponies need to be taught some plucking humility, or this will not be the last lesson I teach you,” he said, raising his wings to appear all the larger and all the more arrogantly proud. The nomad gryphons all cheered and relished in his words, taking his words in like honey. The royal gryphons remained silent, only watching the sight of a pegasus being beaten. Quicksilver opened his eyes somewhat and he tried to lift his head up, settling himself so that he could try and stand. He breathed heavily, continuing to cough blood and tried to get his bearings. Sharp Beak noticed this and he lowered himself until he was staring eye to eye with Quicksilver.

“I bet this makes you angry, doesn't it? Makes you want to stand up and hit me?” he asked, mocking him. Quicksilver said nothing but continued to stare at the gryphon, who only chuckled and belittled him so. “You and I both know how that’s going to end.” He then stood back at his full height, staring down at him like predator over prey. “Now, are you going to be a good little pony, learn your lesson, and stay down?” He asked, waiting for his response. Quicksilver said nothing, only lowering his head as if he didn’t hear the gryphon speak. He looked to his right, seeing the thestrals staring back at him. They all had a deep sadness in his eyes, and they all were afraid.

That fear, it was the same as he saw in many ponies has seen before. From his first battle, his first kill and to the city of Prancy itself...he could see the same eyes within them. They were scared, helpless, and they had no pony else to turn to. Turning back to Sharp Beak, he saw the gryphon began to walk away, believing he had his victory over him. Gritting his teeth, Quicksilver forced himself up. His body protested, his muscles from the work day still screaming to keep him down, yet he pushed on, hoping to prove to that gryphon that he would not be silent. As he shakily got to his hoofs, he heard a few audible gasps from the thestrals as he stood tall once more, beaten but still standing. Sharp Beak turned, eyeing him as if it was challenge.

“You’re a bloody snot,” he said, taking a step forward and punching Quicksilver in the face with his right claw. Blood came out his mouth as he was hit, slamming hard onto the snow and his mind reeling from the force. He shook his head, his vision obscured as he tried to refocus. He looked back up, seeing Sharp Beak poised to strike again, then feeling a direct kick into his gut. He coughed as he held his ribcage, struggling to maintain himself. Several gryphons began laughing at his expense as he tried to get up. He looked to the side to see several of the gryphons mocking him, pointing at him, trivializing the pony that he was. He did notice, however, a few young bloods who were silent at this, and they turned their heads away as if ashamed.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sharp Beak said, lowering himself once more to his level. “Those gryphons I had dealt back Prancy didn’t know there place either. I made sure they were taught good, even at their own expense.” He lifted himself back up, backing away from Quicksilver, but still standing over him. He turned his gaze to the thestrals nearby, and small grin appeared on his face.

“These bat pony freaks will meet the same end,” he said slowly and intimidatingly, causing a few audible gasps from the thestrals.

“Unless, you're a good little pony, learn you place, and stay down,” he quickly added. He turned his gaze back at Quicksilver, staring down from on high like some high and mighty king.

Quicksilver could see how mad this gryphon was. His pride was pushing him to make him an example among the others. If he didn’t get up, then he would win and stand out as the better gryphon. Taking another shaky breath, Quicksilver began to lift himself once more, surprising the sadist colonel.

“Don’t… you...dare...” he said between clenched teeth, watching Quicksilver struggle as he lifted himself up, shocking and astonishing the gryphons as he moved back to his hooves. “Stay in the mud… like a filthy timberwolf dog,” he said, his words becoming more threatening, yet somehow not packing the same punch as before. Quicksilver kept moving, despite the protests from his body. With shaking legs, he was he able to stand once again, defying all odds against him. He stared him right in the eye, his gaze never wavering and his determination never leaving him. Sharp Beak noticed this and his eyes widened slightly to this realization. He took a step forward, ready to face him once more.

“You equine fool,” he said, lifting his claws and placing them on either side of Quicksilver’s head. Then, in one swift motion, he brought Quicksilver’s head down and smashed his muzzle onto his knee. Quicksilver stumbled, falling onto his back, his nose bleeding with fresh blood. He began coughing once more, his body feeling limp and his muscles drained of energy. His mind was in a daze and Sharp Beak was not going to give him a chance. The gryphon stood over, his eyes flaring, and revealing his teeth. Anger seemed to come out every pour of the gryphons body, and he was going to release it all on him.

“M… my lord. I think he’s…” a voice broke out among the ranks of the gryphons, causing Sharp Beak to lash out in anger.

“What!?” he said, staring at the voice of the one who broke his silence. Quicksilver looked slightly and out of the corner of his vision, he could see a young blood. He could see it in his eyes. The younger gryphon looked appalled at the sight. It was something that Quicksilver knew all too well. When a youth sees fighting for the first time, they wouldn’t know whether to fight alongside or stay in the back and hide. Sharp Beak seethed at the younger gryphon, then turned his attention back on Quicksilver.

“Bloody cripple. I’ll show you true pain,” he said, his words slow. Lifting his large hind paw, he stomped right onto Quicksilver’s left wing. Pain coursed from his wounded wing, as if several large needles went straight into his wing, sending painful currents throughout his body. He grunted and nearly cried out, stopping himself by clamping his lower lip shut. He bit so hard that he tasted more blood in his mouth. He withered in the ground, feeling the pressure being added as Sharp Beak would not let up his torture

“Sharp Beak, stop it! Have you gone deranged?!” Quicksilver heard Gretchen call out. “If you persist, the fletching will lose it,” she called out. A swift wing went out and stopped her.

“Sister, silence. This is not your fight,” Ebon said as Quiksilver continued to wither in pain. Sharp Beak continued to hold the pressure, the left wing feeling to crack and the wounds reopening, turning the snow around the wing red with blood. After another moment, he lifted his hind paw up and Quicksilver was able to gasp as the pain left him. Quicksilver rolled onto his side, clenching his wounded wing, fearing it might be broken again. After a few shaky breaths, he turned to face the colonel when he saw a sword pointed directly at his chest, ready to be stabbed into him at a moment's notice. He could see Sharp Beak seething in rage, and he started to believe that he was losing it. He also felt his body began to weaken, suffering too many beatings to linger on, yet he was able to keep himself together, just for a moment longer.

“Now… Stay… Down,” he bristled, his wings flaring out on either side, and every gryphon was silent as they waited for the equine’s response.

And responded he did.

He struggled once more, his body fighting him every step of the way. He placed a hoof onto the snow, struggling for every inch upward. He felt his body sway from side to side, attempting to remain upright as he tried to defy the gryphon from his victory.

“No… you can’t!” Sharp Beak said, his eyes widening in surprise. “I… command… you.” His words left him, sinking down like poison onto Quicksilver, yet he swept past them. If he could stand just once more, stand against this mad tyrant, then the bat ponies will have hope. He soon reached his full height, moving from side to side a little as he attempted to keep himself in control. Soon he locked himself into place, took a deep breath, then stared his determined eyes back at the colonel. Every gryphon and thestral surrounding them gasped in awe as they watched him stand up. Sharp Beak stared with a blank face and Quicksilver, taking notice of the gryphon’s weapon, began to shake ever so slightly.

“You… you should fear me!” Sharp Beak said, trying to keep his facade up but to no avail. “I am your superior, your better. Why don’t you break?!” he said, his claws still shaking against him. Quicksilver looked at the blade, then back at the colonel, still feeling the blood dripping from his muzzle and cheek. He turned to the side slightly, spitting out blood before looking back him.

“Because... I don’t fear you,” Quicksilver said, the first words he spoke since going through the beatings inflicted upon him and the chastisement that followed after. He then narrowed his eyes, continuing to stare his piercing gaze at him. “You know what you gryphons did to me back at Prancy?” He said, as Sharp Beak could only look on. “Back at Prancy, your soldiers came at me, with everything they had.

“They clawed and shredded at my face and body. Tried to put their swords through me. Attempted to smash my skull open. But none of them... could kill me,” he said, standing his ground against the mad gryphon. “They’re still back in that square, each one felled by my hooves.” He pointed a shaking hoof at him, giving a small smile along the way.

“And you, griffon are not the one to finish the job. And before this war is over, I’m going to kill you for all that you have done.”

Sharp Beak‘s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and took his short sword and swung straight at him. Quicksilver closed his eyes, seeing the end come on him, until he heard the sounds of two swords clashing. He opened his eyes back up and saw something he did not expect to see.

Deadeye stood in front of him, his blade holding Sharp Beak’s sword in place.

It was so fast, yet he didn’t even hear him move. Deadeye stood their, holding his ground and keeping Sharp Beak at bay. No matter how much Sharp Beak pushed his sword, Deadeye held his ground, the two swords locked in place. Deadeye soon lowered his head, until he was face to face with Sharp Beak.

“Even when broken, he’s twice the gryphon you are,” Deadeye said, shoving his blade forward until he pushed Sharp Beak back. The colonel stood their as if in a daze, his body shaking slightly but not enough for the other’s to notice. The two sides held their position, neither group making a move to stop the other side. Quicksilver then noticed Sharp Back shake his shoulders and a small laughter escaped from him.

“That is fine by me,” he said softly and calmly, sheathing his sword where it belonged. He then appeared to straighten himself out, his lost composure regained. He then turned and began walking away from the others, his retinue of soldiers following close behind him.

“Don't think this is over equine!” he called out. “I’ll be sure to break you in no time. I’ll have other proper punishments for you, and soon we’ll see you begging for mercy! Ha ha ha ha!” Sharp Beak‘s laughter continued on as they entered back into their camp, dispersing among the sea of tents. As soon as they left, Deadeye sheathed his blade then turned to meet Quicksilver in the eye.

“Brave equine, you have my respect.” Deadeye gave a subtle nod, something he thought he never see a gryphon do, especially a warrior of his caliber. Quicksilver then noticed something off and saw that Deadeye’s body began to shift to the side, and he was swiftly meeting the ground.

Quicksilver hit the floor hard and his body felt limp. His eyes closed and his dreams were awaiting for him.

Author's Note

So Quicksilver stands, defining against the colonels ire. Will this small defiance cost Quicksilver, or will he survive this ordeal? Tune in to the next chapter find out.

I hope you all enjoy this epic chapter. I had a lot of fun making it and it took me quite awhile to make it work. I like to thank my editor for helping whip this story to what it is so far and I hope to continue to work and getting this story out there.

Art Credit goes to Evehly's. She is a very talented artist and I really enjoy her art. Do go check her out. The artwork she made will be up shortly so I'll add a link when it is ready.

Again they have my thanks, leave a comment down below and I'll see you all in the next chapter.

~Broman

Threats From Winter

Quicksilver felt groggy as he opened his eyes, feeling pain upon his face and body. He noticed the roof of Gretchen’s tent above him, still the same shabby color as always. His eyes closed once again, his mind still reeling from the pain that coursed through him. Whenever he flinched or twisted any part of his body, he felt drained, and it was a struggle to even move. Half the time, he felt he didn’t have any feeling in parts of his face. After a few moments of struggle, he simply stayed where he was, exhaustion overcoming him.

It was then that he felt something cold and damp placed on his cheek.

The cold substance stayed there for a moment, then was removed from his skin. A second later, it was placed down again in the same spot. The cold feeling was pressed again and again, moving from one spot of his face over to the other. It was soft, soothing, and above all, gentle. As he felt the cold mysterious object being removed over and over, he heard the sounds of water nearby and something being squeezed next to him.

He sighed softly, his face feeling relaxed as the cloth rubbed ever so gently over his wounds and cuts. He opened his eyes slightly again, this time seeing a claw above his vision and a wet cloth held within. He followed the claw up the arm and saw its owner.

“Gretchen?” he half-muttered, still feeling dazed.

“Ah, good. You're awake, fletching,” she said in a calm manner, lifting her claw up next to his forehead.

“Well, yes… I’m awake now...wait, what are…”

He was interrupted when she flicked one of her talons directly on his forehead. Quicksilver’s hooves shot straight up and held his head. He was not expecting that smack, but it was enough to get his senses up and his body feeling the pain from before. He seethed and cursed softly, still holding his head as the pain remained. His movements also caused pain to course throughout his body, making him feel like he was in a furnace from the muscles exerting themselves. After what felt like minutes, the pain from the talon had resided and he turned to see Gretchen, her face narrowed and having an irritable look.

“You’re a bloody fool, fletching,” she said as she placed the cloth in a small bowl and began wringing out another wet cloth. Quicksilver noticed the small amount of blood that dripped out, most likely from his wounds.

“For what? For defending a colt from being harmed?” he asked annoyingly, as Gretchen placed the cloth on his head and applied a bit more pressure on his wounds, this time being a bit firmer than previously.

“No, it’s what you did with striking Black Talon,” she said in a calm yet firm manner, applying more pressure once more. “For striking against the Nomads, you have caused more tension between our soldiers and endangered the Thestrals. You almost cost the lives of all of us, all because you got in the way,” she said, her voice rising a little, as well as her irritation. Quicksilver grunted as the damp cloth was rubbed against him. The more he felt it, the more he thought he was being rubbed by rawhide. It felt relieving and unbearable at the same time.

“However...” she added, pausing her rough treatment. Quicksilver eyed her; her irritation was gone and replaced with a more softened expression. “I must admit, what you did next astounded the rest of us, including my brother.” She began to apply pressure back with the wet cloth, this time a bit more gentler on his face.

“I don’t understand. I just volunteered to be beaten up. They had their way and I just went with it,” he replied, slightly confused by her change in tone.

“That’s just it. When the tension was at its highest, you came forward and sacrificed yourself to save the Thestrals. I always thought you ponies would only look out for your own, never once caring for other races. But…” She paused, taking a breath. “...but I was wrong. You helped the Thestrals by risking your life. That was something we royals respect.” She paused again, continuing to rub the cloth over his wounds. “What made me more shocked was that you continued to stand, even after being beaten down. Why would you do that when your life would have been forfeit?” she asked, stopping her work as she looked at him. He looked at her for a moment, unsure as to how to respond. He looked to the side for a moment, before turning to her with a unsure expression.

“I really don’t know. I just felt… I just don’t like seeing innocents getting harmed. You and the others were helping them and caring for them, while that overweight gryphon was just stealing their things for his own use. I don’t like seeing other being harmed over one’s greed. Besides, I had to put on a strong face against Sharp Beak. He would have killed me, yes, but at least I showed him that he couldn’t put me down,” he said, unsure if his answer was enough for the hen. He looked up and she was silent for the moment. After another minute, she took the wet cloth and began her tasks once more.

“At least that is something we can agree on,” she said, patching the damp cloth on his wounds before taking a dry cloth to clear the wet blood. “However,” she added, her voice lowered and with a hint of concern. “You must tread cautiously from now on. Your actions may have prevented bloodshed between our clans, but you have put more pressure on the Thestrals, and they will be under more hardships than before. Know this: From here on out, things will only get worse for you and the Thestrals here.” She finished drying away the rest of the water and blood on his face, all the while Quicksilver was left to his thoughts.

She was right. He had caused much contention between the two tribes. Although, he also knew that if he was going to survive, he would need to keep his head cleared when dealing with the rest of the Nomad gryphons that resent him. He didn’t know what the future might hold for him, but he knew that he would need to be extra cautious around them.

As he thought this, he felt the cloth lifted from his head and saw Gretchen holding something in her talons.

“Here, eat this,” she said, offering whatever it was to him. It looked red and cooked, nothing green.

“What is it?” he asked, as he looked at the food with uncertainty.

“It’s meat from a mountain boar. It has nutrients that can can help your body heal,” she explained. Quicksilver shook his head.

“Much as I appreciate your offer, I don’t eat mea-” He suddenly felt a claw around his neck and he began to gag, allowing Gretchen to calmly place the meat inside of his mouth.

“And I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer,” she said, closing his mouth shut and forcing him to chew on the meat. He withered and cringed as the meat sloshed about in his mouth. His teeth chewed on the flesh, the sensation alien and different, and he felt like gagging up the foreign food. Gretchen noticed this and narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’ve been out for half a day, fletching. If you don’t eat, then it will be the cold that will be the death of you.” Gretchen explained, making Quicksilver stare at her with both annoyance and revulsion. He hadn't realized how long he was out, but he was not desperate enough to eat from an animal.

“You need the energy,” she added, her tone softened a little. “The nights are getting longer and colder with each passing day, and you will need to eat and sustain yourself. Otherwise, without that energy inside, you’ll be a frozen pony by morning.”

Quicksilver eyed her with apprehension, all the while feeling the meat spread about in his mouth, making him squirm and shudder as it moved about inside. But as he listened to her and knowing that winter would be coming down harder, he began to agree with her.

Taking a steady, yet nauseating breath, he finished chewing on the boar meat. Swallowing the flesh, the substance slithered down his neck with ease like warm cider on a holiday, only more vile. He shuddered again, his body shivering at the uncomfortable feeling. He noticed Gretchen nodding her head and lifted herself off, taking the bowl of water away and setting them to the side of the tent.

“Sleep well, fletching,” she said, and promptly went to bed on her hay. Quicksilver shuddered again and wrapped the blanket around his body as close as possible. His body was drained from the day's events, his muscles and joints feeling like dead weights from the work and the beatings.

He could only hope things would be different. But he was only fooling himself.

Just as he was about to go to bed, he felt the bandages on his left wing. He turned and saw it wrapped up in new wrappings, more clean than before. He eyed Gretchen and saw that she was already asleep. He could only imagine that it was her doing, but he also wondered if she did it only by orders.

Whatever the case, he gave her a small nod and turned to the side, sleep welcoming him like an old friend.

****

“Lets keep moving, everypony. One more mile, and then we can set up camp,” Silverwing called out from above her company of soldiers. They had traveled the past few days with much hindrance from the weather, but she was determined to gain a few more miles out to make up time. Luckily, they had made good time on the laden path and the storm had lessened somewhat, making it a light day and allowing them to move without any encumbrance.

She scanned the horizon just as the sun was setting in the west and the whole of the land was a golden red. If she flew higher, she would’ve been able to tell that they were nearing the plains separating them and the road to High Talon Peak, which loomed in the far distance. She sighed deeply and wondered how the storm might hinder them once they moved through the open plains, if they could get past the rolling hills first. No matter what the case may be, everyday they were getting closer, and soon, with great hope in her heart, she would be reunited with her brother.

Believing she had enough sight-seeing, she descended down and joined the rest of her company.

She slowed her descent and hovered over the ground, observing her soldiers as they marched. Their spirits were high at least, and that was fruitful. The addition of the cervine had also kept their morale up, as they told fun stories and played wonderful music during their journey. Strong Oak was also a good singer, singing songs and keeping everypony happy with tales of his people.

The ponies walked along in a column, moving down with the cervines and chatting amongst themselves. Some talked about the war, most of them talked about their families and friends that they wanted to return to. Traveling behind them were the supply wagons, keeping good pace with the soldiers and moving through the windy roads of the hills. She also took notice of Hammer and Anvil among the group, talking to each other as they moved. Hovering over them, curiosity overcoming her, she listened intently to what they had to say.

“So how goes your book?” Hammer said to Anvil, who waved him off with his hoof.

“It’s going well. Already written about a dozen pages so far. Mostly draft work, but it's something. I’m also going to try and add Fluer into story as well. That little filly did leave a good impression on us, after all,” Anvil replied, feeling a little proud in his work.

“That’s good to know. It would be nice to visit her when things have settled down...You think you can get more done before the end of this war?” Hammer inquired.

Anvil nodded. “I can get to write at least four, maybe five pages a day. It’s not much, but if I was in a cozy bed, having a roasting fire nearby and a quiet serene atmosphere, then I could get my work done with at least a fortnight.”

“Particularly with a mare, no doubt,” Hammer added, causing his friend to laugh.

“Yeah, especially with a mare.” Anvil paused in his mirth then gave a sly smile to Hammer. “And I know a perfect mare for the likes of you.”

It was then Hammer began to blush furiously. “Hey wait a minute, I thought you said you’d stop teasing me about that,” he said back.

Anvil only laughed, patting him on his good shoulder and adding, “Oh, don’t worry. Your secret with her is safe with me,” he said, chuckling all the while as Hammer rolled his eyes at him.

“And what secret might that be?” Silverwing asked, hovering just above them. The two jumped and looked at their commander, who could only laugh at their expense. She lowered herself to the ground, looking at the two, who could only look away. She looked at Anvil first, watching him mutter under his breath and trying to look at the snow around them. She then turned her gaze back to Hammer, who was trying everything possible to try and avoid her eyes, only glancing at her from time to time. She chuckled at this, and the two of them stared at her.

“I guess you two have plans for when this war is over?” She asked, making the two look at each other with perplexed expressions, then both nodding. It was funny to see their emotions change; it was what made these two so unique among the other soldiers, and that is what made her connect with them. She lifted her wings and placed them on either side of the two guards.

“I’m sure that your dreams will be fulfilled, Anvil. And I wish you all the best in finding the right mare, Hammer.” she said, causing both of them to stare at her in surprise.

“Well…uh…thank you, Captain. I hope to achieve my story one of these days. Hopefully, that is,” Anvil said as he rubbed the back of his head. Hammer, on the other hoof, lowered his ears and looked the other way, almost as if he felt disappointed or let down.

Silverwing, noticing his concern, asked in a softer tone, “Hammer? Are you alright?”

Hammer looked at her and breathed a heavy sigh, one she thought he was letting go. He swallowed the lump in his throat and began to speak.

“Well, Captain. I…”

“Captain Silverwing!” Strong Oak’s voice broke through the ranks, making her turn to him and seeing him waving at her. Separating from her guards, she quickly went to the cervine’s side.

“What is it, Strong Oak? What’s wrong?” she asked. She then heard a small bird whistle coming from up ahead. She looked up toward the trees and saw one of the cervine scout’s pointing toward the path ahead, the path leading past a bend in the road. At the edge of the road, she noticed crows and other small birds descending down the path. She was unsure what was going on, but she drew her blade to be on watch.

“Swift Leaf has discovered something just ahead, and from what she is describing from her position.... Well, let us say that we must be cautious. For death looms before us,” Strong Oak said, whistling the same tune to Swift Leaf, who soon descended down from the trees and joined their ranks.

“Alright everypony, listen up! Ready your weapons. Be prepared for anything,” Silverwing called out as many of the guards and militia readied their weapons for battle. She moved at the head of the column with several of her guard, among whom both Hammer and Anvil were in.

The convoy stopped just around the bend, and Silverwing smelled something foul in the air. The sensation was rotten and her senses heightened. Whatever was around the bend, there was certainly something to be worried about. Calming her mind and readying for the task, she cautiously moved forward, her guard following close behind her. She looked back at her guards, gazing at each one as they were prepared to follow. She nodded to them and quickly turned around the bend.

What she saw next made her blood froze. Strong Oak went to her side, and his eyes widened in revulsion.

“Their… their Diamond Dogs.”

“Yes,” Silverwing said. “Dead ones.”

Silverwing took an uneasy step forward as she observed the carnage around her. Dozens upon dozens of Diamond Dog bodies lay scattered and bloodied across the path, their bodies mutilated and bearing many punctured wounds across their chests and bodies. Blood painted the walls on either side of the two hills, and the dead kept on coming from several hundred meters away. As they moved ever forward, the carrion birds surrounded the bodies of the diamond dogs, picking up flesh and flying away whenever the group got close, crying out at them for interrupting their meal.

Silverwing observed every detail.

“These Diamond Dogs. We have not seen them since they called for peace months ago. Why are they so far out east?” Silverwing pondered, taking in the sight of one of the Dogs being pinned to the wall by two spears in its chest.

“I don’t know,” Strong Oak admitted. “Your guess is as good as mine.” His lead scout, Swift Leaf joined his side. Silverwing noted that she had a deep coat of brown and an orange like mane that descended down from the side of her head. She had a bow and arrow strapped to her saddle, and wore red armor underneath her cloak.

“Lord Strong Oak. The snow and mud of these dogs have flesh blood. It may appear that they have been killed only recently, or at least a day. There are tracks everywhere, some of which I don’t recognize,” she said. Strong Oak to mumbled to himself and turned to Silverwing with an uncertain expression.

“It appears there is more danger in these lands than we may know of,” Strong Oak said, taking in his surroundings. Silverwing nodded and continued to move along. As she moved, her company followed behind them. Some took in what they saw and were shocked by the sight. Others, who didn’t have the stomach, began to heave on the side of the path. The militia leader, Shadow Hunter, went up to Silverwings side and looked at the Diamond Dogs before him.

“Captain. These Diamond Dogs... I believe we knew of this pack in this region, but never knew where their hideouts and hovels were. Also, what bothers me is that Diamond Dogs normally don’t go above ground except for war. These Diamond Dogs...” He gestured toward the dead around him. “Most of them weren’t carrying weapons, meaning that they had another reason for being up here.”

Silverwing nodded, looking back at the Diamond Dogs strewn before them. As she continued to take everything in, she could hear the soft whispers coming from her guards behind her.

“Look at their eyes,” she heard Hammer say. “They are open, like they weren't expecting to die.”

“I know,” Anvil added. “This is very strange. Even worse, some of these dogs are women and pups. ”

True to his word, Silvering saw a small number of dogs that were distinctly female, being noticeable by the cloth around their large chests, and small pups laid scattered around their mothers. It was a horrendous and a sickening sight.

Heavy Blitz spoke next. “Look at the wounds. They are too large for normal blades. It looks more like they were gored.”

“Wait, everypony!” Crimson Wing said in a loud hushed voice, stopping the group in their tracks. Silverwing turned to him as he continued. “Do you hear that?” he said, his ears flicking in the air. Everypony and cervine had their ears up, listening to whatever noise that Crimson Wing heard. Silverwing then heard a faint voice up ahead, and she and the few guards readied themselves and slowly advanced. As she drew closer, the voice growing a little louder, she could distinctly hear the creature coming around the other side of a rock formation.

“It sounds like a chant,” Silvering listened.

“No,” Strong Oak interjected. “It sounds more like a prayer.”

On the surface of the ground, there was a blood trail, most likely a dead body that was dragged. The group slowly readied their spears and swords, pointed just around the edge of the formation. Silverwing then looked at her guards, ready to face whatever was on the other side.

She slowly stepped forward and looked upon a Diamond Dog, alive. The Diamond Dog was hunched in a crouched position, almost sitting down. Its body hugged inward, large arms held closer and its paws clasped together. Next to the Diamond Dog was a dead body of another Dog, its eyes closed and its body had gored holes in it’s chest. Next to the Diamond Dog was a large battleaxe, sitting at angle next to the wall, along with pieces of armor that Silverwing didn’t recognize. The Diamond Dog kept moving back and forth, its voice heard in a softened prayer, not taking even the slightest notice of the ponies and cervine that approached him.

“Oh den mother, I have failed thee. Forgive me for my weakness...” the Diamond Dog continued to say, speaking fast yet audible, swaying back and forth. Silverwing flicked her ears when she heard the sound of clacking and she noticed something dangling in the dog's paws. She looked and saw that they were beads, and in between them were small diamonds. Short, beautiful diamonds that stood out amongst the death that surrounded them.

Silverwing looked at her companions and they were unsure what to make of the scene. Deciding against her better judgment, she sheathed her sword and approached the Diamond Dog.

“Silverwing, what are you doing?” she heard Hammer say. Yet she did not reply, only waving a hoof at him and continuing to get closer. The Diamond Dog continued to pray, the beads moving back in forth in his paws. The more it prayed, the more scared it sounded. Even though the dogs were their former enemy, she couldn’t help but feel some pity, especially when it was surrounded by its dead kin. Taking a leap of faith, she raised her voice to speak to it.

“Are you alright?” she asked, hoping that the Diamond Dog would listen. The Diamond Dog paused its prayer, its body freezing and the beads stopping. Its ears pointed straight up and towards her. It lifted its left paw toward its polearm, seizing it slowly in his grasp. Silverwing tensed up, hearing the sounds of her companions ready to strike if need be, but she didn’t drew her own. She only waited to see what the Diamond Dog would do. Soon the dog looked up, revealing its green yet reddened eyes, tears continuing to steam down its cheeks.

“Have you come to kill me?” the Diamond Dog asked, its voice rough yet understandable. Silverwing eyed his weapon, seeing it grip the battleaxe tighter and expecting for a response. Taking a calm breath, albeit a little sweat coming from her brow, she shook her head at the Dog.

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I want to know what happened here. Can you tell me?” she inquired, speaking slow and not making any moves that might provoke him. The Diamond Dog observed the other ponies behind her, then looked back at her.

“You have many ponies behind you. Maybe one among them can take this wretched life of mine,” he said, causing her companions to murmur and wonder what the Diamond Dog was up to, but more importantly, why it so adamantly wanted death. Silverwing shook her head again and moved closer to the Diamond Dog, although minding her distance so that she was out of range of its weapon.

“We won’t harm you. Please, let us know what happened here. What caused this slaughter?” she asked.

The dog turned his head slightly at her. “Slaughter? No, massacre, it was. I should have died among them,” he said, lowering his head, his right paw moving the beads together in its big toes and chanting again. Silverwing looked behind her, seeing her companions watch the scene before them, uncertain of how to respond. She lifted a wing toward them and made a downward motion. The guards nodded and lowered their weapons, but still had them at the ready. She turned to the Diamond Dog, where it let go of the polearm and began to rock itself back and forth.

She had never once in her life seen a creature so shaken before, with its will diminished and spirit broken. When she had faced the Diamond Dogs before, they were always ferocious in battle, never giving in unless defeat was almost certain. Seeing this dog, cowering and begging for death, she could only imagine what horror they faced. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she approached again until she was standing just a few hooves in front of the dog.

“Was it the griffons? Were they responsible for this carnage?” she asked.

The dog shook its head. “No. Not birds of the sky. It was something worse, it was. Much worse,” he said, its body shaking and more tears beginning to stream down its face. “They…they came from the blackness. We were ambushed, they came from all sides. Their bloodlust was in the air as they came.” The Diamond Dog shook its head, placing both of its large paws onto either side of it’s head, almost looking like he was in a fetal position. “Pitch black,” he added. “It was pitch black when those beasts came at us. But I saw. Brutus saw everything.” He said his name, almost not acknowledging Silverwing before him, his eyes widening in unspoken horror.

“Their war cries…I…I can still hear them in my head. They numbered in the hundreds, too many to count. They butchered everyone, taking our diamonds, our gold, our precious things. Their savagery knows no bounds, their mercy was merciless killings. Not even our dames or our pups survived. It all happened so fast, I thought was a complete and living nightmare.” Brutus lowered his head, his body shivering, and quiet sobs escaped him.

Silverwing had her eyes wide, listening to every word that he spoke. Everything she heard sounded absurd, but hearing the Diamond Dog’s claim, she could only shudder at the thought of what monstrosities they faced in these lands. She looked over, seeing a hoof print that was larger and bigger then hers. She only hoped and prayed to the Goddess and the Regal Sisters that they would avoid facing such monsters.

“Hammer, Anvil, get him up and take him to the convoy. I think once he calms down, he will have more to say,” she said as both her friends went to Brutus’s side. As they tended to the Diamond Dog, Strong Oak came to her side, giving off a cautious expression.

“I cannot fathom as to why you want to bring that mongrel into our camp, but I will digress for the sake of his story. If there are some marauders or some sort of war band that is plaguing this land, then we must tread cautiously. There is no telling as to what will be out there,” he carefully explained. Silverwing nodded at his statement.

“Come on now, let's go,” she heard Anvil say, and she turned to see the two moving Brutus forward. He soon stood at his full height, surprisingly standing at least a head taller than her, and maybe even taller than Strong Oak. Brutus seized its polearm, dragging it behind in the snow and blood. Hammer and Anvil kept their guard, making sure he wouldn’t do anything, and Silverwing noticed their bodies tensed whenever the dog moved. After taking a few meters forward, however, Hammer, having his focus on Brutus, neglected to see another body on the ground behind him and the pool of blood that surrounded it. Silverwing reacted too late as Hammer tripped over the body, scrambled for footing and landed hard onto his bad shoulder. He cried out in pain, clutching his wound shoulder, as Brutus suddenly dropped his battleaxe and clamped it’s ear.

“The cries! The cries... make its stop!” he called out, hutching it’s body and beginning to howl in fear.

“Somepony get this Diamond Dog to the convoy and bring up the medical supplies! Now!” Silverwing ordered, and the guards and militia began moving as ordered, as well as to Hammer’s side. He seethed in pain as he rolled onto the blood covered snow and mud, staining his coat in the process. She quickly but gently moved him over to see his shoulder and her eyes widened to see his pain. Blood began appearing on his bandaged shoulder, leaking out and running down his chest and legs. Acting on instinct, she placed both of her hooves onto his wound to stop the flow. As she held the wound in place, she waited for the medicine and healers to arrive. Strong Oak remained at her side, offering any assistance as he could, as Swift Leaf gave a soft prayer.

“Hold on, Hammer. Hold on.”

Author's Note

Another chapter added. Seems the story has taken a new turn as Silverwing continue to search for her brother. What did Brutus see? What killed his clan and kin? To top it off how will Quicksilver cope as he continues to survive in the encampment? Tune in next time to find out more.

Took a little bit of this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed and I do look forward to you feedback. Art was made by the ever talented Evehly. She is such a gifted artist and I have all my thanks with her.

Do post your comments down below and I'll see you all next time.

~Broman

Some Nights I Stay Up

Hammer slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he felt was the searing heat in his left shoulder. He tossed and turned in a makeshift bed, sweat pouring down the side of his body. The pinching and tearing in his shoulder was evident enough that he thought he would go mad if it remained any longer. When he thought he would scream out, he felt a soft hoof placed on his chest. He looked up and saw Silverwing staring down at him with a concerned, but also relieved look.

“Oh good, you're awake,” she said, her relief evident. Hammer closed his eyes and cringed at the pain. Noticing this, Silverwing lifted a hoof and placed it on top of his forehead. “You're burning up. Here…” She went and grabbed a wet rag from a bucket and began wiping away the sweat that accumulated on his brow.

“What… what happened? Where am I?” Hammer asked, still clinging to his left shoulder. He breathed a little bit easier as she rubbed the wet cloth against his coat. Silverwing looked at him thoughtfully before replying.

“When you were escorting Brutus, you tripped over one of the bodies and landed hard. Your wound reopened and you passed out soon afterwards from thrashing about. We set up camp outside of these hills, and the rest of the troops have been busy burying the dead for hours. It was the least we can do for them,” she carefully explained as Hammer took it all in.

“And what about Brutus?” he asked, still seething from the pain. Silverwing continued to wipe away the sweat that came down his head, making sure that Hammer was at ease, if only slightly.

“He’s been busy saying prayers to each of the graves,” she said, taking the cloth and wringing it out into the bowel. “He’s been going at this for hours now,” she explained, looking behind her towards the tent entrance.

“Who are you waiting… for?” he asked, drawing in heavy breaths. He felt his body tense from the pinching in his shoulder, adding to the pain.

“One of Strong Oak’s rangers is a healer. I was told that she would arrive here soon,” she said. Not a moment later, the flap opened up and two cervines entered. One of them was Swift Leaf, bringing a small roll of medical supplies. The other was a female, with hazel eyes and long golden hair that went past her neck. She bent down to his level and gave a small reassuring smile.

“I am known as Cottontail. I am a healer among my kind. We will make sure that you are stable and provided with much rest,” she said as she placed a hoof onto his wounded shoulder, removing the thin layer of fabric that separated the wound from the frigid air. Hammer seethed a little as he felt the fabric removed, feeling as if his own skin was peeling off once again. She inspected his wound for a moment, observing and sometimes touching him with her forehoof. She looked at Swift Leaf, who had already began to grab a purple paste substance from the supplies. Even from his bed, Hammer recognized its scent of rich elderberries.

“This is an ointment that will help ease your pain, but also give a numbing sensation. This is needed in the healing process as I work,” Cottontail said as she turned to Silverwing. “Please, hold his body; it will help.”

Silverwing moved without question. She placed her hooves onto his chest as Cottontail began to work. The moment she placed the paste onto his wounded shoulder, his eyes flared and he began thrashing in pain.

“Hold him steady, please,” Cottontail said, and Silverwing did as instructed. The paste oozed into his wound, and Hammer could not help from feeling the pain. It felt like ice penetrating deep into his bones, and his body wanted to reject it. He kept shaking, seething at the stinging sensation, all the while Silverwing kept him at bay.

After a few moments, the paste began to take effect and he felt his whole shoulder go numb. He lost all feeling and movement, and he breathed out in ragged breaths. As he did this, he focused his attention on Silverwing. She had that caring look in her eyes, something that he always loved about her. He didn’t know why, but whenever he saw her, those eyes captivated him, telling him that he would be alright.

“Drink this,” Cottontail said, producing a cup in front of his face. Without a word, he pressed his lips against the cup and downed the drink in a few quick gulps. He shuddered a bit from the aftertaste, but it was soothing at least.

“What was that?” he asked, his vision beginning to blur.

“The milk of the poppy,” Cottontail replied. He now began to feel even more woozy from the strange drink. Whatever it was doing, it was working fast. “Don’t worry,” he heard Cottontail speak, her head moving side to side in his vision. “It will help you rest while I do my work. I will do all I can to mend your shoulder, but it will be up to you in the rest of the healing.”

“Up to... me?” he slurred as his vision faded in and out, beginning to lose consciousness.

“Yes. With a wound like yours, it will take time to recover. If we were in my homeland, you would be given to our magis and be healed in less than a fortnight. However, out here in the wild, and with winter coming, you will need the Goddess and your strength to heal your body,” she explained. Hammer began shaking his head back and forth, trying to stay awake a little longer.

“Cottontail, we need to work quickly,” he heard Silverwing speak. He turned toward the sound of her voice, but he could barely see her.

“This will take time, but with the three of us here, we can mange. Hammer will be in good hooves, but it will be up him to overcome this scar,” Swift Leaf said, but Hammer could barely register it. His focus was on her again. His captain, the mare he really cared about.

He felt his strength fading and his mind going to rest, but he fought to stay awake.

He needed to at least say it.

“He’s shaking again. What did that drink do?” Silverwing asked, worry filled her voice.

“His body is trying to reject the drink, but he will be still soon. Sleep is almost upon him. Once he is in slumber, we can proceed,” Cottontail said, giving off a reassuring voice. Silverwing turned to face Hammer. He felt something brush against his mane, and he could see her blue eyes staring at him.

“You can pull through this, Hammer. Let it flow and relax,” she said, and he felt his body calm at her gentle voice. “I believe in you. You can survive this,” she said. Though his vision was blurring more every second, he could still see her wonderful, serene smile.

He went to speak, saying something softly that neither he nor her could hear.

“What?” Silverwing asked, leaning a little bit closer to him. “What is it, Hammer?”

He took a ragged breath, coughing briefly before feeling a smile creep up the sides of his countenance.

He said it again, slow yet audible to her and her alone. He still couldn’t hear it, but he knew he had finally said it.

Immediately, he noticed Silverwing’s eyes begin to open wide, but he could not tell what emotion she was expressing. It was the last thing he saw before the medicine took over, and his vision turned to darkness.

****

Quicksilver was soaring over the land again, his wings stretched to their furthest extent. He surveyed the land; it was peaceful and serene, but most of all, it was beautiful. He did a little corkscrew in the air, followed by a few loops. He loved this feeling, losing himself completely in the sky around him. The skies were his own, the ocean of grass was his own, and he could fly to his heart's content.

He heard the playful sounds of young foals nearby, and he noticed two such foals flying alongside him. They were ecstatic, cheerful and, above all, excited as he was when he flew. He took a deep breath and felt happy to be with them.

“Someone help us!”

A cry broke his concentration. He saw the lands begin to change, and the foals had disappeared by the time he looked back where they were. He drastically turned the other way, trying to escape the blackness that was consuming everything around him. He quickened his pace, trying to out- distance himself and the shrouds darkness. He turned around, and he saw several gryphons descending upon him. He felt their talons seize him, and he closed his eyes in pain. When he opened them up, he was no longer in the skies.

Quicksilver was in the City of Prancy again. The whole city was still in its desolate ruin, bits of buildings falling off from the recent battle. But that was the least of his worries. He was surrounded by the Nomad Gryphons, all eerily quiet as they awaited for something, anything to happen. He heard several cries before him, yet he didn’t know where they came from. He then heard the twangs of crossbows, and the cries were swiftly silent. Following where the arrows shot, he saw a number of dead gryphons on the ground near a wall, each one having several arrows pierced deep into their bodies. The gryphons that were alive held crossbows in their claws, each one bearing no remorse or pity to their comrades. As he looked at the dead gryphons, he then started to realize something.

He recognized them. He wasn’t quite sure from where, but he knew their faces.

As he contemplated this, he soon found himself near a large oak tree, and he noticed a half dozen gryphons encircling it’s roots. He heard more cries, all pleading to be spared. He heard a loud thunk upon wood, and the voices were snuffed. He turned and spotted the roots of the tree, and saw four gryphon bodies on the roots, their heads missing. The trail of blood went downward and he saw the gryphons’ heads, each one having a surprised or shocked expression frozen on their faces. Another uneasy feeling washed over him, and he felt a chill in the air.

He recognized these gryphons as well.

“Please! I don’t want to die!” he heard somepony cry from behind, and he turned to see a gryphon Nomad being dragged by the one he hated, Sharp Beak. The colonel dragged the young blood forward, the younger gryphon being pulled helplessly through the ground, while he held a chain in his other claw. He stopped before the base of the tree, threw the chain upward and wrapped it around the largest branches. Without warning, Sharp Beak placed his talons onto the young blood back and snapped both of his wings in two.

The young blood cried and flailed about as his wings became limp, and in a desperate attempt to escape, he began to crawl away, crying out as he did. He was given no respite as Sharp Beak came forward and wrapped the chain around the young blood’s neck, cutting off his cries. Sharp Beak then lifted the end of the chain, revealing a large metal hook that would be used in a butchers shop, and thrust it into the gryphons neck. Blood began spilling out of the young blood’s neck, and he began crying and gagging as the chain tightened around him. Sharp Beak soon backed off, and the young blood was forcibly pulled back and lifted in the air. Quicksilver could only watch in horror as the young blood was pulled into the air, its claws grasping around the chain and his shattered wings flailing about to stay airborne.

But it was no use, and the young blood’s struggles lessened as the first minute passed. As the last of the gryphon’s breath escaped him, his left arm left his neck, and was soon followed by the right. His voice was silent, leaving nothing but a hanging corpse.

Quicksilver recognized this very gryphon as well, his face etched even deeper into his mind as he swung there in the gentle breeze. Each one tore at his mind, each face he knew, each name that was spoken. They all came crashing down on him like water upon a rock.

He tried to back away, his instinct to fly away. He opened his wings, desperate to fly out of this nightmare. He was stopped when he felt a pair of claws on his left wing. He looked up and saw Sharp Beak standing over him, murderous intent in his eyes. Without a word, the gryphon twisted and snapped his left wing, severing his chance at freedom in the skies.

Quicksilver cried out, and blackness enveloped him.

***

Quicksilver let out a small cry as he found himself awake in the tent. Sweat poured down his brow, and he felt he was roasting. He closed his eyes, trying to focus, trying to calm his ragged and sleep deprived mind. He tried to recall the faces, the names of the gryphons he had seen, but they all kept going blank within his mind. Sharp Beak was brutal against his people, so determined to ensure his power was not tested by others. His mad sense of justice against his own kind made him all the more deadly. Quicksilver believed, without a doubt, that Sharp Beak would kill him before he got a chance at freedom. He placed his hoofs over his face, and he almost felt like weeping on the spot.

“Are you always this loud when you awake from a nightmare?” Gretchen’s voice broke the silence, and Quicksilver turned in startled surprise. He saw the hen staring at him with a troubled and tired look, although she looked more annoyed that her rest as been disturbed. She also, to his surprise, had some bed mane (or feathers, in this case), the feathers sticking out in a few awkward places from her sleeping position.

“How… how long have you been awake?” he asked, wondering what she might say, but also trying very hard not to stare at her bed feathers.

“Long enough, fletching. Yet this is the fifth time since you’ve been here that you have awakened from a nightmare,” she stated.

He stared at her in shock. She had known all this time and he didn’t even know about it!

“At first,” she continued, “I just assumed that you kept waking up from nightmares because of the environment you’re in. Although, I believe that it goes deeper than that,” she said. He was about to ask back before she swiftly brought a claw up, stopping him.

“Don’t ask long questions, fletching. I’m already tired as is, and I’m not much in the mood to dwell on giving long answers,” she said, clear irritation in her voice as her feathers ruffled up. Quicksilver watched as her feathers got bigger at first, before she shook her head in a quick motion and returned them to their normal position. It was kind of funny to watch, almost reminding how a chicken or other birds ruffled their feathers before shaking off any dust or water that was on them. Choosing quickly on how to ask her, he took a breath before proceeding.

“So what do you think is causing my nightmares?” he asked, hoping his question would be given a straight answer. It didn’t take long for her to reply back.

“There is fear in you, fletching. You are afraid of something, and that is what’s driving you awake at night,” she said bluntly, not skipping a beat in her words. “To top that off, I think that it’s not Sharp Beak that you fear, but something else,” she explained, her words becoming clearer as the seconds went by.

He turned away and lowered his head back on the ground, contemplating on how to respond. Minutes passed, and only the silence remained between them. He closed his eyes, but he didn’t come up with an answer.

“What is it that you wish, fletching? What do you want to return to when this war is over?” she asked, her tone a little calmer.

Quicksilver opened his eyes, the question lingering in his mind. Taking a steady breath, he said, “I guess… well… I’m not sure what I’m afraid of. I’ve seen so many things in this war that would break anypony. Such horrors upon innocents, so much death that has taken over this land. It makes you wonder just how one can overcome such adversities while still maintaining your sanity.

“However,” he paused, as Gretchen listened word for word. “There has been a certain beauty that has taken place in this war.

“When we passed through Prance and into the countryside, I’ve seen things that gives me hope. Families and communities coming together. Each one being strong and connected. Despite all the horror that this war has wrought, I’ve seen so much love and compassion among the citizens that they will be prepared to have a normal life when the war is over. It made me think what I want for my future too, you know,” he said, lifting up his left wing and allowing it to stand straight in the air. He inspected the wing, seeing the clear bandage over his wound. He stared at it for a time, not even noticing the tears forming in his eyes.

“And what is that, Fletching?” Gretchen asked.

“A family,” he said bluntly. “All I… I want to have.... is a family.” It was then the tears began to flow over his numbed cheeks. “I want to be there when I have my first foal. I want to be there when it takes its first steps. I want to be there when it tries to fly.” He took a shuddered breath, more tears beginning to flow as he tried to compose himself, but to no avail. “I want to fly with my children. I want to show them the same freedom as I do. I want to show them everything, and yet here I am, trapped in a prison camp with no chances of being let go. The longer I stay here, the more I fear I might lose my ability to fly. I don’t want that taken away. I want to have my freedom and have the family I always wanted...and to fly with them. That’s all I want, just to be with them. I would be half of a pegasus if I became crippled and have to stand by, watching my children learn to fly without their father.”

After he finished, he placed a hoof over his eyes, covering the tears that fell past his face. His left wing lowered back to his side as he continued to cry, almost whimpering.

“So the Fletching does have a heart,” Gretchen said, trying to sound like she was bored, but clearly wasn’t. “And I hope you reach that goal,” she added, making him turn to her with tear filled eyes. Gretchen’s golden eyes stared at him and he saw something that looked like pity, but showed more compassion. Gretchen nodded and placed her head back on her hay.

“You gave me a lot to think about, Fletching. Get some sleep. We’ll discuss this later.” With that, she finished and soundly went back to sleep. Wiping away the last of the tears, Quicksilver turned in for the night and went promptly to bed, having a strong feeling that his dreams will be peaceful through the rest of the night.

Author's Note

This one took longer then normal. I wanted to get things right but life tends to keep me busy. I hope I can show you all what this story impacts as I continue with this story. There is more to it then you will realize andI want to let you know that Quicksilver's adventure is not over yet.

Do let me know of what you guys think, more chapters on the way, and I will speak with you all soon.

~Broman

Also art is From Evehly. Do go check her out. https://www.deviantart.com/evehly/art/C-Gretchen-and-Quicksliver-637584501

The General

“There is the game, Sky Rider,” Talon Wing said as he readied his spear. Both soldiers, along with a number of gryphons, readied themselves around a small open clearing. Within it, they saw a dozen mountain boars in the center, all huddled together for the long night. These mountain boars were much larger than the ones living on the plains. Their meat was tough and had many nutrients, largely from the large variety of food they had eaten over the years. The gryphons had tracked the beasts for days now, and now finally had a chance to reach them.

Sky Rider nodded, then motioned for the others to move. With that, the gryphon Nobles and Nomads began to close the distance to their prey.

Their hunting party was sent out to gather much needed food for the winter. They had been hunting for at least a couple days, right after their pegasus prisoner was brutally beaten by Colonel Sharp Beak and his Nomad gryphons. It was strange, to both of them, that the pegasus would keep standing up, even after being pummeled down again and again. There was a determination in his eyes, and they could tell that he would not show any sign of weakness to the Colonel. However, what really stood out was when the pegasus told him down and Deadeye defended him. They could not imagine what prompted the old warrior to protect him but, in a way, they had earned their respect, if only a little.

“I’m ready to move,” Sky Rider said as Talon Wing readied his spear, standing behind the foliage that separated them and their prey. Several of the boars looked up, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. Talon Wing knew this all too well: their sense of smell was very sharp, and they were smart enough to keep their guard up. Talon Wing looked over and nodded to Sky Rider, who readied a throwing spear.

After a few brief seconds, Sky Rider hurled his spear toward the boar herd.

The spear struck true into the side of one of them, and the other boars spread out in panic. The gryphons charged out from their hiding spots and attacked, easily getting upon the first half of the boars. The rest continued to scatter, creating large imprints on the snow as they ran.

Their squeals echoed off the canyon walls as the gryphons descended upon the helpless prey. One by one, each cry from the boars was silent, and only a few remained

“Don’t let any of them escape!” Talon Wing called out as he hovered above the ground, keeping his eyes on all of the boars. Talon Wing saw their numbers dwindle as the boars scattered in different directions.

He then spotted a stray boar heading for the pass. Seeing the opportunity, Talon Wing swiftly charged at the escaping boar. Readying his spear, he lunged it straight into its back, the boar squealing out in pain before collapsing to the ground. He stood victoriously over his defeated prey and withdrew the spear out of the dead body, drawing blood as it came out. He looked about, seeing that the rest of the gryphons had gathered their game and all of the boars have been killed.

“Alright lads! Let's take our prize back to base, and let's be quick about it!” Sky Rider called out. The rest of the soldiers let out various calls and grunts of affirmation. It took at least two gryphons to carry each of the boars while flying back to their base.

As the last of the dead boars were gathered up, Talon Wing looked about the area. There were many shrubs and heavy thickets that surrounded him. They were large enough to hold the boars and keep them fed, but he also noted that they make good ambush points. He kept his eyes open and he felt the wind blow around him. Even after seizing their prize, he felt a certain unease in the air, almost as if he was being watched.

“Talon Wing. You alright?” Sky Rider said as he approached his side. Talon Wing looked about the perimeter once more before turning to his friend.

“It’s nothing. Just the wind,” Talon Wing replied as he flapped his wings and became airborne. “Let's make it back to the outpost. Our party should be there soon.”

“Right. I’m freezing my tail feathers off anyway,” Sky Rider said as he followed, and the two made after their hunting party. “Hopefully we’ll come across our other hunting party and we can make it back in time for a feast,” he added.

Talon Wing smiled. “I can already taste it,” he replied as the two took to the skies above.

As they left the scene of the ambush behind them, they did not see a pair of eyes watching them take flight, and a sinister smile forming upon its countenance.

****

Quicksilver walked down towards the camp from Gretchen’s tent. It has been several days since his punishment, and at least a week since he had been captive, possibly longer. All the winter days and nights looked the same to him, so he was uncertain of the exact time span. Thankfully enough, since his punishment from Sharp Beak, the Colonel was sent off once more along with several hunting parties. This meant he was more able to rest from his beatings and heal, but not without some extra labor.

Since the Colonel's absence, he was given more tasks around the camp, mostly helping with the new building. Most of the time, he got things done without too much hassle, but that left him with absolutely nothing to do but wait for the next meal. Another thing that had him bothered was that Gretchen has been busy with other things as of late, and they only ever met at night to speak. She wouldn’t explain it that much, but she said that some gryphon was going to be returning soon, and that he was extremely important. Whoever this gryphon was, Quicksilver couldn’t have the idle and lively exchanges with her like they had originally done. The only thing that kept him company was his ever silent guard in his silver armor.

He was not a conversationalist.

What made it worse was whenever he moved around the camp, the silent guard always watched over him. If he ate, the guard was there. Wherever he moved, the guard would follow. He even waited for him whenever he had to relieve himself. The guard was on him the whole time, and he never had any time for himself. Even with guards stationed around the camp, they knew he wouldn’t get away. What made things more annoying is that the gryphon would never leave his side. In a strange way, Quicksilver felt that he was protecting him from the gryphons that would do him harm. He was not sure if it had to do with the punishment by Sharp Beak and the other Nomad gryphons, but the silent guard did annoy him to no end.

Taking a small walk around camp with the silent bodyguard would be no different.

“Do you ever talk?” Quicksilver started the conversation. His gryphon guard did not reply, as the many times he has done before.

“I guess you don’t like to talk, or you've given a vow of silence?” he asked. Again, there was no reply, only the same grunt as before. Quicksilver rolled his eyes, his one-sided conversations not phasing with the taciturn gryphon. “That’s fine if you don’t talk. There are always others things I can discuss about.” He looked up at the silent guard, his golden eyes staring at him. The guard lifted one of his his eyebrows, and his purple feathers moved with him. The act made a slight shiver of menace creep up Quicksilver, and he quickly rerouted back to his ‘conversation’.

“Anyway, you do remind me of an old friend I used to have back at home.” He looked ahead, desperate to avoid the gryphon’s glare. “He always loved to talk about things. No particular thing, just many...things. He even talked about getting married and having a wonderful wife and a large family.” He paused and looked at the silent gryphon.

“Are you married? Got a family back home?” he asked as he moved on, his hooves crunching softly on the snow. The gryphon said nothing, allowing Quicksilver to continue.

“I guess you have a family. It might be here in this camp, and the Royal gryphons are your brothers. You’re lucky, I guess; I never had any brothers. Only an older sister. She was always watching over me, kind of like you, I suppose. She always cared for and looked after me, even after when-” He paused and shook his head.

“Sorry, getting off track. Anyway, with my friend, he was always spouting off a bunch of things, and he would never stop talking. It was funny, actually; he’d speak about one thing, then speak about another. Always yakking about his latest dealings or daily routines. Afterwards, I began giving him a nickname, “Yak”, since he was ‘yakkin’ his head off.” He paused and looked up at the gryphon. The gryphon made no emotion, having the same expression as last time. Quicksilver’s ears flattened and he rolled his eyes.

“I guess jokes don’t work on you as well, nor does the name ‘Yak’ suit you. I guess I’ll just call you by another name.” He looked about for a moment, passing by a few gryphons as he paced in thought.

“Would Defender or Warden work as a name for you?” he asked, hoping to get an answer out of the inaudible gryphon. Before he could get a reply, he heard a familiar voice come his way.

“Ah, there you are, Fletchling. I was wondering were you were,” Gretchen spoke as she descended and landed in front of them. Quicksilver looked at her with an unamused expression.

“I could say the same thing. I’ve had nothing do today after my tasks, but I have not been able to do much except walk around and have this silent bird follow me around,” he explained, to which the silent gryphon respond with a loud grunt.

“He is not the one you should mind, Fletching,” she said, motioning her head to follow and began walking toward the center of camp, with the disgruntled pegasus in tow and matching her pace. The cold still hung in the air, but it wouldn’t be long now until night would fall, and then the chill would really come. For the past few days, the nights have been colder and the days grew shorter. Winter had already settled in, and it was going to be many months before spring would come to these mountains.

And it might be many more before he would ever return home.

“Alright, we're almost there. You should enjoy watching this,” she said as she moved toward the center of camp. Quicksilver rolled his eyes. Whatever the rest of the gryphons enjoyed watching would be something that he would not be interested in.

As he continued to follow her, he began to hear a commotion on the other side of the large main tent. He knew that area was more open, so he could only wonder what was going on. As he moved closer, he began hearing loud chanting and numerous voices cheering on for something, as well as a loud smack of flesh on flesh. He looked over to Gretchen, who had a small smile on her face. He could only wonder what had her so cheerful.

As he turned the corner, he witnessed what was making the ruckus.

A rather large ruckus indeed.

Four minotaurs were battling it out in a large circle with their bare fists, surrounded by roughly the entire garrison of gryphons. They shouted and cursed, placing bets on the strongest bull and completely engrossed in the fight. There were other minotaurs on the outside of the ring as well, but they remained calm and collected, watching their brethren fight and strike against each other. Quicksilver stood beside Gretchen, both watching the violent spectacle.

“What is going on?” Quicksilver asked as the scene unfolded.

“To you, it may be just a fight, Fletching. But to these minotaurs, it is a test of strength,” she explained, watching one of the bulls ram his fist into an unexpecting opponent and sending him off balance towards the edge of the circle. The orange bull that was knocked down quickly got back up and bellowed a loud roar that only made the watching crowd cheer for more. Spurred by the roaring crowd, the minotaur that was on the ground before charged again and smacked hard into his fellow combatant.

“How can you stand watching this fight?” Quicksilver asked, cringing a few times whenever one of the bulls would sucker punch the other. He winced again when one of the bulls punched hard into the others head, making him spin once before falling to the ground, his body unmoving.

“Well, let's just say that this is our form of entertainment. We got nothing to do during the winter other than to work and freeze our tail feathers off. The minotaurs, however, have a little ritual every now and then that helps keep our spirits up.” She paused and turned to watch one of the bulls charge his horns into another one, sending both tumbling onto the ground. “Whenever they fight, they fight for their honor or prestige. Namely, those who stand out in the fight or the last few remaining can earn respect among their peers. The minotaurs take these rituals very seriously.”

“All this for the sake of honor?” Quicksilver asked, watching of the bulls throw a punch directly into the head of the downed opponent.

“Exactly,” she said as the two watched the last two fighters in the ring. Quicksilver looked on as the final two combatants readied themselves in the ring, while the other two remained still, either unconscious or too weak to move. The last two bulls, one a deep blue and the other a light brown, squared off with one another, their large arms positioned at an angle in a combat stance.

For a moment, neither side moved, their fury and battle rage ready to be unleashed. Quicksilver could only watch as the two massive bulls circled each other, nearing a climactic fight that would only claim one winner.

Suddenly, the bulls bellowed out, and the two charged until they clashed, both throwing punches and kicks into their opponent.

“Now this is a good fight!” one of the gryphons called out.

“Crush him!” another one screamed, and more resounding roars of approval came after from the rest of the garrison. The two bulls kept pushing on, smashing their fists into one another. Quicksilver could hear the resounding whacks of bone on flesh as the two giants traded blows.

After a brief minute of the tussle, the two sides thrusted their appendages outward and clamped together. The two then butted heads (literally), the blow creating a loud clapping sound that echoed off the walls of the cave. The two were at a stand still, both bulls locked together in their battle of wills and strength. Quicksilver was stunned in amazement as the two brutes pushed, their arm muscles bulging as they tried to push their opponent back. The fighting was so fierce that he could see the steam coming off their hides in the cold winter air.

“It’s nearing its end soon, Fletching,” Gretchen said, much to Quicksilver’s confusion as he looked at her. He looked back and noticed the blue minotaur taking a step forward, its massive arms turning slightly and making the brown bull struggle in his grip. Quicksilver watched as the bull took another hoof forward and then shoved his weight against the brown bull, making him topple into the dirt and snow. The blue bull untangled itself, then quickly seized over his opponent.

What Quicksilver saw next took his breath away.

The blue bull placed its large paws over the brown bull’s body and began to lift. He could see the muscles strain and turn as they lifted the brown bull into the air. The crowd gasped as the blue bull let out a roar as he carried the other bull over its head. Quicksilver gawked at such a feat; he had never witnessed such strength by any creature before, only now seeing it first-hoof with the blue bull holding his opponent over his head. The brown bull struggled to get loose, but the blue bull held him up.

Then, as quickly as he brought him up, he slammed the bull back down onto the ground, shaking it with a loud rumble. The crowd cried out in awe, as well as a few notable number of groans from a few losing patrons. Quicksilver noticed a small number began giving out their losing bet to the winners. As the battle was over, the blue bull lifted his head and roared out in victory. He kept his bellow for several seconds before stopping all together. He then went over to his defeated opponent and handed one of its mighty paws. The brown bull, breathing heavily and in defeat, humbly accepted his companion’s gesture. Quicksilver watched in confusion as the bull was lifted up, and the two bulls helped their fellow fallen brethren.

“I see that you are confused, Fletching,” Gretchen said as he continued to watch the scene unfold. When he didn’t respond right away, Gretchen continued. “Even though the victor has won, he still treats his opponents fairly. They have a strong connection within their warrior society, something that makes them continue to work together and ensure their weaker warriors succeed. It is something that even we Royal gryphons, who are are strong in our military might, cannot comprehend. It is an utter wonder to us how they stay so close as a unit, that they seem unbothered by what forces come there way. By nature, or by other means,” she explained.

Quicksilver looked at her and gave subtle nod of approval. The minotaurs surely had their honor, it was best to respect them.

“C’mon, Fletching. We have other things you need to do,” Gretchen said as she started walking toward areas unknown. Quicksilver snorted; he didn’t know why she called him that, but it was starting to get on his nerves. Taking a quick and collected breath, he spoke to her.

“Hey, Gretchen. Why do you call me that?” Quicksilver asked, hoping to coax a question out of the hen. Gretchen turned to him with a confused look, raising a sharp eyebrow at him.

“Whatever do you mean, Fletching? I’m not insulting you, am I?” she spoke again, although in a more patronizing tone. Quicksilver’s eyes narrowed, and he could see the little smug smile that Gretchen was pulling.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You‘ve been calling me that name ever since we met, and it's getting really old,” he explained as Gretchen kept giving him the same look.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I think ‘Fletching’ suits you well. You're just so small compared to the rest of us,” she said, a hint of exaggeration in her voice.

Quicksilver was not buying it.

“For being small, I would probably be called a fledgling instead of ‘Fletching’, wouldn't you agree?” he asked, hoping that would shed some light on the subject. Gretchen only laughed and placed a claw over her eyes. Quicksilver flattened his ears at the sight. He could only imagine what he had said that would set her off. When her mirth subsided, she looked at him with haughty expression.

“If I called you ‘Fledgling’, then you would be treated like one. You’d be a tiny little pony who we have to nestsit while you do nothing but eat, shit and sleep like all the common folk that you’ve come to know. Would you like to be called that instead and treated in such respect as well, Fletching?” she asked, waiting for an answer.

Quicksilver was taken aback, unsure how to respond. Being called what he was was one thing, but to be treated like a young foal in a literal manner made him all the more skittish to think how they would treat him. When he didn’t speak back, Gretchen chuckled once again.

“I see you understand the meaning. Besides,” she said, lifting her head to the side as if hearing something in the distance. He heard his silent guard grunt and Quicksilver noticed him looking up at the roof of the cave. “Calling you ‘Fledgling’ would be a dishonor, more than you being called ‘Fletching’. Now come, it is time,” she said, beginning to walk away. Quicksilver followed, although at a leisurely pace this time. He was unconvinced as to the true reason she kept calling him that, but he was at least grateful to be called something other than what she intended. If she did make do with her threat and called him by the other name, then he could not fathom as to how much ridicule and mockery he’d receive from the other gryphons.

He was certain that Colonel Sharp Beak would have laughed himself to death for having him be called that.

Quicksilver continued to follow after Gretchen, taking notice of her steady pace towards the very center of camp. As he moved, he noticed other gryphons, both Noble and Nomad, had begun to head to the same location as well. The area was more open, and it appeared it had recently been cleared of snow. He looked up at the roof of the cave, the snow casually falling down above them. Quicksilver wondered what was so important and he turned to his silent guard.

“What’s going on?” he asked his silent guard, who didn’t even seem phased by him. However, he did give something that Quicksilver did not expect: a smile.

“What are you…” he was about to say until he heard a deep and booming horn emanating from the roof of the cave. It echoed off the walls, reverberating all around him. He looked up, seeing some of the snow fall from the roof of the hole and land harmlessly to the ground. He kept watching, waiting for something to come; instead, he was greeted by the same horn noise as before, only closer this time.

He looked to Gretchen and saw that she had a smile on her face. It was something that he had seen before, but it was different kind of smile this time: Not being boastful, arrogant or even fake. Instead, her smile was genuine, heartfelt and had a caring look about it. It was the same kind of smile that he had seen when she helped the Thestrals the other day.

“The Grand Razor Claw Brigade is descending! Make way! The General has arrived!” Ebon’s voice called amongst the throng of warriors. The name struck a chord with Quicksilver. He recalled the name and its importance.

He doesn't mean that general! Quicksilver thought as he looked toward the open cave and began seeing figures descending down. A dozen gryphons in silver plated armor began gliding down from the upper cave entrance. As they came down, the nearby Noble gryphons began to cheer somewhat, although a number of Nomads stood silent and watched as the group descended. He could see that they had no love for their general compared to the Nobles.

He could count at least four dozen or so guards descending down into the camp, lining up into rank and file and standing at attention. He kept his eyes peeled, trying to find the elusive general among the ranks. Soon, the entire group came down and they all stood at attention, their silver armor reflective from the nearby fires, and their halberds standing tall above their heads. Soon, Ebon came forward along with Gretchen, standing by the new warriors. Quicksilver watched as the new arrivals moved aside, and a single gryphon marched out from the pack.

Quicksilver’s hunch was indeed correct.

The general’s fur was a brown color, and his feathers were pure white with a deep blue around his also-blue eyes and the tips of his feathers. However, he had a scar running down the left side of his eye which was pure white, although a hint of blue remained. He was a little smaller than the other gryphons, but he probably was as big as Gretchen. He had a purple and gold cloak around his body, and Quicksilver could see the old silver armor that he wore had seen plenty of war. On the front of the armor was a sigil of a gryphon's claw.

The famous General Quill of the Gryphon Empire had arrived.

Author's Note

Here is the the latest Chapter. General Quill has arrived and has made a grand entrance of himself. Would things be different with the general in the encampment or will things take a new turn for Quicksilver?

Find out more in the next chapter.

I have more chapters at the ready and I will be posting them as soon as I am able. Please give me your feedback and your comments down below and I will speak with you all again soon.

~Broman

Art is credited to Evehly. She is extremely talented so do go check her out.

The Long Road and the Arch Gryphon

Silverwing cast her gaze over the vast plains. The morning sun had risen over the mountains, its light basking their encampment with warmth. The snow reflected the light somewhat, making it hard to see, but it wouldn’t be long until the storm clouds would come again and blot out the sun’s rays. Silverwing took a breath and let out a sigh.

It had been a grueling ten days since they left Prancy, and thirteen days since she began her search for her brother. They had trudged through the bitter cold, and stood fast against the raging winter tempest.

The sight of hundreds of Diamond Dogs that laid dead in that pass more than unnerved them. The only survivor of the attack was a Diamond Dog known as Brutus. He was so overcome with strife and his spirit crushed so firmly that he could not describe them. He had been under their care and they had buried the dead. It cost time, but it was for the best.

They did not know who was responsible, but one thing was for certain: there was something more dangerous than griffons to worry about.

“Commander Silverwing,” Shadow Hunter’s voice spoke out, startling her a little. She turned to the old veteran and saw that he had on his gear, ready to move out.

“Sorry, Shadow Hunter. I didn’t hear you,” she said, adjusting herself to speak with him.

The old veteran raised a bushy eyebrow to her. “I’ve called you three times to get your attention,” he explained. Silverwing blinked in surprise and slight embarrassment.

“Forgive me for prying,” Shadow Hunter added, “but you seem distant of late. Ever since we’ve left the pass, you’ve barely spoken with any of your guards.”

His words rang true and Silverwing could not ignore it. She lowered her head and flattened her ears. “I never meant to ignore anyone in this company. I’ve just been... distant of late,” she meekly explained.

“Indeed. I know I don’t have to remind you of your duties to your guards. However, it’s more important for the commander to be in the best health to lead us.”

“I understand, Shadow Hunter. This won’t happen again, I promise,” she said, as Shadow Hunter nodded. Thinking for a moment, she quickly added, “What is the current state of the company?”

Shadow Hunter cleared his throat. “Well, the Royal Guard have been gathering supplies from the foliage, and have gathered stock. The cervine are doing rather well for themselves. Foraging berries and gathering water for our supplies. We still have plenty of provisions to last us for six weeks, even longer than we had anticipated for this trip. The royal guards moral is still relatively high, but they are concerned of the events that took place the few days prior. There is also to account the Diamond Dog Brutus, who seems to make the others nervous for continuously clacking his beads together in his paws.”

“Can hardly blame him. He lost his entire pack,” Silverwing said.

“That may be true, but they are on edge around him. You don’t even have him bound.”

“It is necessary for him to have his space. What he has been through more then shows that there are other forces at work. He won’t be a threat to us, I assure you.”

“I hope you’re correct,” Shadow Hunter said, looking off towards the direction of the camp. Many of the guards had put away the tents and began to march once again.

“How is the state of your ponies, Shadow Hunter? How are their spirits?” she asked.

He gave a tired sigh. “They are holding up. Some miss their families, but they all know that if we don’t push the griffons out of our lands, then we’ll never find peace.” She gave a sympathetic nod. She wasn't the only one who missed their family. She turned toward plains before them, with the mountains in the far distance.

“How long until we reach the High Talon Mountains?” she asked, her gaze still focused at the high peaks.

Shadow Hunter also glanced out to the distant heights. “I’ve been through these parts before. For us who walk on land, if there was no snow, it would take us roughly a week to reach the mountains. If I were a pegasus or a griffon, it would take us less than two to three days to reach the mountains, if you continued with little to no stops. Adding in that factor, and depending on if the weather holds, we could reach in at least a fortnight, maybe longer,” he said.

“What is out there, Shadow Hunter? Will there be any protection for us if the storms get worse?” she asked. A hint of worry came over her at thought of the weather might slow them down. She eyed the old veteran, who, to her dismay, nodded his head.

“It is only the plains and fields from here on out. There might be a few farm houses or villages between us and the mountains. However, they might be ruins for all I know.”

Silverwing looked to the ground and began to ponder. The faster they moved, the quicker they’d get to the mountains. However, the storms would likely pick up in the coming weeks, possibly sooner, and it would be hazardous to keep moving in the storm. She doubted the Equestrian Army had the time to handle the weather, and she had too few fliers that could control the weather or deter it from its path for the time being. The best option was to brave the coming storms and continue on, seeking shelter or hunkering down for the long night. She closed her eyes and began to imagine the possibilities.

But all she could think about was her brother. Quicksilver, and Hammer.

She shook her head from the last thought, knocking off some light snow from her shoulders, and began to move back toward the camp.

“Get the company ready within the hour. We’ll be leaving soon,” she explained as she continued on her path. Shadow Hunter nodded and went off to gather the troops.

Silverwing walked across the former camp and looked around. She could tell that, for the most part, the soldiers still had high spirits. However, there were a few exceptions. As she moved through, she spotted several guards having downturned expressions. They had worried looks, and some were staring off to the distance. When she moved close, they would look and nod to her in approval, but whenever she passed by them they would return to their saddened state. She felt an uneasiness within her. She would need to ensure that they still had faith in the mission and would not lose heart.

“Captain Silverwing,” she heard Anvil say. She turned to greet him and saw that he had two others by his side.

“Hello Anvil, Heavy Blitz, Crimson Wing. What do you ask of me?” The three gave a quick salute before Anvil came forward to speak.

“Captain. I know this will be blunt, but how is Hammer? We know he is under your care, but we just wish to know: Is he alright?” he asked, his voice showing concern. She looked back at the other two guards, who shared equal looks concern. With a calm and collected breath, she gave her reply.

“Hammer is still sleeping. He has not awoken since the surgery, but his body is resting. Don’t you worry; he may be injured, but that will not stop him from serving us.”

Heavy Blitz stepped forward. “Thank you, Captain. It’s just... he’s our best friend. He’s always been there, even when we don’t expect him to be.”.

“Always there to pick us back up when we need him to,” Crimson Wing added.

“Please, Captain, if there is anything that comes up, please do let us know,” Anvil finished.

She nodded in approval. “Don’t worry, you three will be the first to know when he wakes. Now please, we’ll be leaving soon, so get yourself ready. ” The three soon left, and she took notice that her words eased their conscious. She then proceeded to one of the wagons, knowing all too well what lied within. When she was close, she raised a hoof toward one of the steps.

She paused for a moment, hesitant to climb in.

A small feeling stirred within her breast; faint, but noticeable. When she neared closer to the wooden frame, her chest tightened ever so slightly. She wondered if it was the horrors of the days prior, or maybe when Hammer was wounded.

But she knew, as much she tried to ignore it, that it was the words that he had spoken the other day that caused her so much unease. Shaking off this feeling and steeling her nerve, she took the first step up the wagon and peered inside.

There, in the middle of the wagon, Hammer rested underneath a thick blanket. He was breathing slow and heavy, his chest lifting up and down underneath the sheets. He was placed on the end of the wagon, where most of the other supplies were stored, but weren’t close enough to disturb his sleep.

Silverwing entered, climbing over a few crates of provisions and blankets as she went toward him. There was only enough space for two ponies at the very least, so she had to make due. Once she was close enough, she sat down next to him.

There were a number of things she wanted to say, but nothing would come out. Her voice caught in her throat whenever she tried to speak. She wanted to say something, anything, but she could not do so. She had so many emotions running in her mind now.

But they were all, for the moment, focused on him.

Her body had shuddered when he said those words. Those words that she did not expect.

Silverwing wanted to say something in return, but could not give her answer. She could only stare at the stallion before her, watching his breath in the cold air. She lifted a hoof towards him and placed it on the blanket near his wounded shoulder. She lifted the fabric and saw the bandages, covering the entirety of his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. The quick work from Cottontail helped ensure that he kept his shoulder, as well as his ability to walk.

However, there were complications in the healing.

Due to his resistance to the drug at first, it made his body even weaker and the milk from the poppy had slipped him into unconsciousness. For the past three days, he had not stirred from his rest and had not partaken of any food or water. Since that time, Silverwing was worried that he had lost his life from the loss of blood or because the drug was too strong. Cottontail reassured her that he would be fine, but she explained that he had to rely on his own strength to overcome his injuries.

Silverwing drew a breath and held it for a few seconds before breathing out again. She calmly placed the blanket back over his body. She then drew a hoof and brushed some of his blue mane out of his face and held it there. He was still breathing, still in a peaceful slumber. She noticed him stir every now and then from her touch, but he would never awake. She hoped and prayed to the Regal Sisters and the Goddess above that he may be alright.

Oh Hammer, she thought, continuing to stroke his cheek with her hoof. She repeated the motion several times, letting her mind wander as she continued to stare at him.

Why did you have to go and say that? Why did you say that you were in love with me?

Her thoughts continued as she lifted her hoof back and sat up. She turned her ear back and began hearing the company preparing to move out. She kept her gaze upon Hammer as he continued to sleep.

Why couldn't you have waited until this war was over?

The last of her thoughts soon left her as she headed outside and prepared for the long march across the plains. She looked out and saw the heavy clouds surrounding the mountains in the distance. As she stared, a cold wind blew itself across her face, and she felt a sudden chill crawl through her body.

Winter’s wrath had barely begun.

***

Quicksilver watched as General Quill made his entrance. He had a commanding authority as he stood tall, even to his own soldiers.

It was funny to Quicksilver, in a way: he never thought he would see this gryphon in the flesh. He heard the tales, his successes and his accomplishments in battle. The tales of this gryphon were the stuff of legend. To see him here and now, he might as well be either dreaming or dead.

The latter being the most likely.

As he stared at the general, he saw both Gretchen and Ebon make their way forward and stand before him. The general moved forward and stared at the both of them, observing the two as if he was looking at prized cattle. Then, the general smiled.

“It’s good to see you two, my little niece and nephew,” General Quill said in a deep and relaxed voice. As if on command, both siblings moved forward and embraced the general.

This was the last thing that Quicksilver had expected.

Quicksilver watched astonished as the two held their uncle in a tight embrace, both having a look of happiness on each of their faces. Around him, the other Royal gryphons looked on with happy expressions. Only a few of the Nomad gryphons held some small contempt, (though they were wise enough to not show it directly).

“It’s good to see you well, uncle,” Gretchen said, her smile never wavering.

“How was your trip, uncle Quill? Ebon asked. “Is everything alright back at Gryphonstone?”

“Peace, my nephew. Your answers will come in time,” he said. Quicksilver cocked his head slightly. The general’s voice sounded rumbling and grating, yet it had a deep commanding presence in it as well. His accent also had a Prench sound to it; it was faint, but noticeable.

The general looked about the surrounding warriors. “My soldiers are overburdened and must rest. Let us prepare a feast for us all,” he said, waving a claw to all of the gryphons. Some began to cheer enthusiastically, but Ebon was quick to respond back.

“Our hunting parties have not returned yet. They should arrive by tomorrow and then we can prepare for the festivities.”

General Quill gave a soft chuckle. “Fair enough. We shall delay having one until they make their return,” he said, looking back up to the the entrance of the cave above. “Tis late. Let us retire then, Ebon. We have much to discuss.” He began heading off to the center of camp, followed closely behind by a few of his personal guard. Ebon and Gretchen moved as well, leading him further into camp.

“I guess I’m not going to be apart of this.” Quicksilver said, turning to leave.

A swift claw wrapped around his neck, and he was jerked to the side by his silent guard, his face held close against the stainless armor. He tried moving his head, but the gryphons grip was solid and he would not move. He looked up to see the mute gryphon eyeing him, a knowing look in his eye. Either he knew that Quicksilver was too weak to free himself, or he liked watching his prey struggle. Whatever the case, he didn’t show any aggression, only ensuring that Quicksilver could not escape. He then began moving, dragging Quicksilver along with him by his neck and following the entourage of troops.

“Alright, lead the way, Warden,” Quicksilver said nonchalantly as his guard ‘escorted’ him.

His journey lasted only a few minutes, as General Quill was lead by his niece and nephew only a short distance toward the center tent. Quicksilver kept his eyes forward as he was ushered by Warden. He didn’t know why he started thinking that name, but it seemed to suit his unspeaking guard.

As he moved, he saw that many of the new arrivals began to disperse among the camp, meeting with fellow companions or setting their own tents within the camp interior. Each tent had a variety of colors, and the gryphons themselves had different crests on each of their armor. He recalled from Gretchen that many of the clans had separate families or larger houses that were distinguishable by these crests. There were many different kinds of crests, but the most he saw was of the gryphon claw, the same as General Quill’s.

Sadly, he didn’t have much time to look at the rest before they reached their destination. Quicksilver watched as the general entered Ebon’s tent. Both Ebon and Gretchen followed in, along with a couple of other gryphons. Quicksilver struggled lightly as he moved closer, but Warden casually carried him inside the tent and without much resistance.

Once inside, he saw General Quill was conversing with two other gryphons. One gryphon he recognized as Deadeye. He carried himself with pride as he spoke with the general, a hint of excitement spread on his countenance, and General Quill was happy to engage with him. The other gryphon was entirely new. The new Gryphon had a brown coat with deep black feathers and white on the tips. His attire was a long white robe with a brown belt around his waist. Around his neck lay a necklace with small diamond-like crystals, each varying in size and shape. He looked something similar to a priest back in Equestria, for he carried a book in his left claw and a small staff in the other. He looked out and about the tent, his manner almost resembling that of a curious child. His eyes wandered until his gaze settled on Quicksilver. His eyes widened and a small smile spread across his beak.

“Oh my,” the black gryphon said in soothing voice, moving towards Quicksilver and fumbling somewhat with the things in his claws. He looked more to be suited in some library then out in an encampment. The gryphon stood in front of him, and he felt the pressure release around his neck as Warden straightened him up. As soon as he was standing straight, the black gryphon settled his staff to the ground and unfolded his book, flipping many pages until it went to a blank space. Then he brought a quill and began writing at a fast pace.

“This is a first for seeing a pegasus in the flesh. Oh, this is fascinating,” he said, scribbling down more words into the book. Quicksilver’s eyes widened slightly, his brow raised as the prying gryphon walked about and inspected him. He felt like he was being observed by a rich farmer, and that he was the prized stock.

The gryphon began to write more into his book. “Muscle density appears healthy. Can’t say for the multiple bruises, most likely from mistreatment. Physical features are toned, but is appears to have lost weight. Likely due to diet and malnutrition.” The gryphon paused in his writing into his book then went to Quiksilver's side, inspecting his wounded wing by placing a claw onto it. Quicksilver watched anxiously as the gryphon lifted the wing outward, thankful that he was holding the wing in a delicate manner. The gryphon’s eyes widened and shook his head, his tongue clicking with his teeth.

“Oh, what a mess. I was hoping this pegasus could fly. I would have loved to study how its flight patterns would compare to a gryphon’s caliber. Tell me, who was it?” he said, turning his attention directly at Quicksilver, who was still trying to comprehend it all. “Who was the brute that ruined your perfectly natural wings?”

Quicksilver blinked a couple times. The gryphon was fastidious to know of his condition, he could tell. Indeed, Quicksilver could tell that he was more scholarly than he appeared to be, but was more zealous in his work. That worried him to no end as the gryphon waited for an answer. Before he could reply, he heard Gretchen speak up.

“It was that wretched Colonel that did it. The fletching nearly lost his wing from being trampled by him,” she explained.

The black gryphon was exasperated. “Why, that intolerable low life gryphon!” he hissed, his face contorting in anger. “That gryphon knows nothing but barbarity and contempt for his enemies. Honor is nothing but optional. It burns my feathers that he would treat such a fine and noble creature in such a way.”

Quicksilver eyed him in mixed confusion, uncertain as to how this gryphon perceived him. One moment, he’d be praised and then the other he would be something lower then them.

This was one gryphon that he didn’t know what to make of.

“Peace, Felix. You can do your study and rantings at a later time,” the General said, his voice calm and collected.

Felix turned to him with a humble bow. “I’m sorry, my liege, I just can’t help it. The call of science and enlightenment summoned me here, and I must study every component and aspect of my surroundings, including this pegasus here,” he said in a flamboyant tone. The General gave a soft chuckle as he waved him off. Felix, taking notice, chuckled along with him.

“Very well, my liege. I shall silently observe from afar with great interest,” he said as he shuffled to the side of the room and settled himself on a small chair nearby. Quicksilver couldn’t tell if he should be grateful or worried that he was gone.

“Forgive my friend, pegasus. Felix is a young acolyte of Saint Gregor. His heart is in the right place, but his mind does tend to wander,” he said in his rumbling voice, earning a sarcastic laugh from Felix.

Quicksilver looked over in surprise. Felix was an Arch Gryphon! He’d never seen one before, so he had taken some time to recognize the garb. He looked at him for a moment, almost taking new interest as to what background that he had come from. Felix, taking notice of his staring, began writing in his book. Quicksilver soon turned back, only to realize that every Gryphon was eyeing him, including the General.

“Tell me, pegasus. Where are you from?” he asked, waiting for an answer. Quicksilver blinked a few times. The General of the gryphon armies, the head of the gryphon empire’s elite, was speaking to him in a relaxed conversation. He looked about the room, searching for somegryphon to speak for him, but both Ebon and Gretchen did not speak their minds.

General Quill raised an eyebrow as Quicksilver didn’t respond and the gryphon leaned forward on his desk, the old wood creaking as he moved.

“You don’t have to be silent, my friend. I’ve seen much over my many years of service, and plenty of fighting in my lifetime. But never once did I have time to stop to have idle conversation with an enemy. So please. Tell me about yourself,” he asked again.

Quicksilver looked about the room another time. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and stared back at the general.

“Well, I don’t think there is much you should know about me... but I do know a lot about you, sir,” he replied.

The old general lifting a brow at him. “Oh? Then enlighten me,” he replied, his emotion unreadable by his grating voice. He was certainly interested in Quicksilver, so he had to make the most of it.

“Well, for starters, I know that you’re the general of the gryphon armies. However, there is much more to it than just a title,” he explained as the old general to continued to watch him. Off on the side, he could hear the scraping of the quill on parchment by Felix. “Your real name is known as Falke DuGalle Quill. You have skill with a blade and are a fearsome warrior, known for your ferocity at the battle of Silver Road near our borders during the early years of the war.” As he spoke, he notice the general lift one of his sharp brows, certainly impressed by his knowledge. “However, you're not only skilled as a warrior, but as a diplomat as well. My people know of the alliance you created with the Diamond Dogs. But on top of that, your actions at the siege of Castle High Tower, near the Prance border, where you managed to convince an entire garrison of several thousands to lay down their arms instead of fighting a force of ten thousand gryphons.” He stood tall and bowed his head toward the general. “That deserves the utmost respect, sir.”

“Most impressive, young pegasus,” General Quill said, a smile present on his face. Quicksilver looked about the room and saw some mixed expressions among the crowd. Gretchen’s jaw hung slightly as he told her uncle’s history. Felix’s quill had stopped midway through his speech, his eyes glazed over in both wonder and excitement, before returning back to the book. Both Ebon and Deadeye gave only raised eyebrows at him for his knowledge. Warden only stood silent, uninterested in whatever he had to say.

“However, though I commend you for your wisdom of my past, I asked to hear of your past. Mine is full of too many bad memories, some of which I do not like to recall. Although, there are other such things I still am particularly fond of,” he said, casting his eyes to the other gryphons in the room, keeping his gaze the longest on his niece and nephew, whom shared a small smile with him. “Even so,” he continued, drawing his gaze back to Quicksilver and his brow tightened, “we gryphons tend to grumble from time to time, particularly when we don’t hear what we want to hear,” he explained, his claws resting under his chin and awaiting for him to speak once again.

Quicksilver felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine. In the back of his mind, he felt he had insulted him in some way, but another part of him believed that he had reopened old wounds from the general’s past. Whatever it was, he was anticipating an answer, and Quicksilver had to reciprocate soon. He turned to Gretchen, looking for an answer that might help him in this predicament. She remained silent, only gesturing her eyes towards General Quill. With a deep sigh, he turned back to the general and lowered his head.

“Forgive me, General. I did not mean to impose or say anything that was out of line.” He paused, letting the words reach the general. The latter said nothing, only waiting for his proper answer. He didn’t appear to be angry, but the tone from his voice earlier suggested that he was speaking in a serious tone and manner. He was intimidating, to say the least.

“Well, I started in a small village just on the outskirts of Canterlot. My father, Silver Star, and mother, Rose Blade, worked on the weather patrols and farms in the the surrounding villages. My sister Silverwing and I lived our daily lives without a care in the world. But everything changed when the day of reckoning came, and when both King Solaris and Prince Osiris were killed by Ravenclaw.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. He noticed that General Quill’s brow had unfurled and that he had a relaxed expression. Quicksilver wasn’t sure if he was taking interest in his history, but at least he was no longer bearing any annoyance or irritation from before.

“When the war came, our village was among the first to go. After we escaped, we had to make a choice in cowering behind a wall or take the fight to your empire. My parents were braver than that. As soon as the attack started, my mother joined the war effort while my father served in the armed forces. He only lasted two years before he was killed. My mother died a year later from the pox, and both my sister and I become orphans.”

“Excuse me, pegasus,” Felix’s voice entered and he turned to see that the arch gryphon had stopped his writing. “How old would you say you were at this time?”

“I was five when the war began. I was eight when we became orphans,” he replied without missing a beat, causing the arch gryphon to stir. He blinked a few times, likely stunned by some realization before returning back to the book, albeit more slowly than before. He turned back to the general and looked for any signs of emotion from him. He didn’t have any, though he might be thinking of something else or contemplating his words. To his right, however, he could see Gretchen staring at him, her eyes widened slightly. Though she may not outright tell him, he could see that she had pity for him.

“Both Silverwing and I didn’t have any immediate family to claim us, so we grew up in the orphanage in Canterlot, living our daily lives as many of the scarred citizens of the city. After my parents death, I didn’t know what to do and I was… well, broken. As the years went by and the war only grew worse, I started to believe that there was no hope. We both just kept on living, still surviving this wretched war even when it was at our doorstep. When my sister was thirteen, she came to me and said that she was done with hiding, done with sitting around and doing nothing. So she confided in me to be better, to be more than what I am and to ensure that we could have a better future. That’s what convinced me, and that is what made me see.”

“See what, if I may ask?” Ebon interrupted, looking almost riveted by the story.

“She reminded me of what our parents did when there was still peace. She reminded me why they always helped others and why they cared for the community. That the people we helped were our family. Our community was our family, a large one at that, and that we always worked together to solve the problems that surrounded us. Without them, we would be nothing. Without that sense of family, we would be just random strangers who would only look after themselves. It was because of that that I knew that I could help others in the same way. I got out of my funk and both of us began to train, training everyday so that we may be able to join the army.

“I was only twelve at the time when I grew my confidence again, and after training ourselves, we soon went to join the army. I was eighteen at the time and my sister was just a year older. We both got in and began to rise in the ranks within the first few years. I became a Sgt. at age twenty, and she was already a lieutenant at the age of twenty-one, the youngest and fastest to ever achieve such a feat. Five years later, I reached the rank of Lieutenant and became a leader under the Thunder and Lighting Division in the Equestrian Army, while she became a co-captain under the royal guard and lead the campaign into Prance.” He paused, taking a breath as a small shudder coursed through him from these remembrances.

“Twenty years since this war started and we still keep fighting, still keep killing, but I have a goal: that what I do may make a difference in keeping the people I know safe. My family has a stubborn side, and we refuse to give in. Guess I have it in me as well.” He finished, taking a deep breath as the recent memories ran through his mind. He looked up to see that General Quill has not moved from his last position, still resting his elbows on the desk and his claws underneath his chin. Quicksilver’s ears fell flat and he felt that he may have bored the general. He went to speak again when General Quill moved, lifting a claw up stopping him from speaking.

“You can stop now, boy. I’ve heard enough,” he said, lowering his claws back down until they clacked on the surface. He sighed a deep sigh, one showing the tiredness from a long travel. The older gryphon lifted his head to the other gryphons in the room. “I would like to retire this night. I‘ve had a long flight and my old bones are weary. We can discuss more upon the morrow,” he said, and soon the other gryphons began to depart. Sensing that he was no longer needed, Quicksilver began to turn to depart.

“Hold, young pegasus,” the general said in his aged and commanding voice. Quicksilver turned to face him, and noticed that he was not the only one who stirred, for both Gretchen and Ebon looked at their uncle. General Quill sat up from his chair, his arms outstretched on the table, and Quicksilver noticed a small hint of a smile present on his face.

“I am intrigued,” General Quill said. A smile grew on his countenance, revealing his long teeth. “This has been quite an interesting narrative between us. Let us hope we’ll both find the time to discuss this further.” He finished with a deep laugh, his rumbling voice still being heard as he chuckled. “Now if you would take leave, I have other matters to discuss.” He then gave a humble nod before returning to his seat, and Ebon and Gretchen went to his side.

Quicksilver’s ears twitched in surprise. There were many things about this general he still didn’t know about. But, at the very least, he was the complete opposite of Colonel Sharp Beak.

“Oh, fletching, when I’m done, I will get you food, so wait at the tent if you would,” Gretchen said before beginning to converse with her uncle. Quicksilver gave a quick nod before heading out the tent, the idle chatter between the family fading as he made his way out. Once outside, he noticed several more tents set up and several of the new gryphons beginning to take their rest for the night. He also noticed nearby that the minotaurs were cleaning their wounds and having their low chatter, spoken in a tongue that he did not understand. Around him, most of the gryphons were already finishing their supper and going about the camp to their stations or off to bed.

How long have I been in there? he pondered. He heard a low grunt from his left, making him look up at his silent bodyguard. His eyes were half open, but they remained ever vigilant on him.

“I guess I can’t escort myself back to the tent?” Quicksilver asked, only getting a grunt reply from Warden. It seemed no matter what he would do or say, he would never get this obsidian gryphon to speak. “Guess I’ll get walking then,” he said. With that, he began heading in the direction of Gretchen's tent, his mute guard ever present at this side.

Quicksilver marched back through the maze of tents, passing by the great bonfire in the center of the camp. He passed by the rugged nomads gryphons as they mingled among themselves and the few noble gryphons were standing at attention at their post. As he moved, Quicksilver took notice of how hushed the Nomad gryphons were. Either they didn’t like the general or something else was on their minds. Whatever it was, it had to wait for another day. He soon neared the end of the sea of tents and saw the lone tent upon the hill. He made his way for it, eager to rest his bones from the work. As he moved, he noticed something was off: he didn’t hear the crunching of snow behind him.

He paused, turning around and waiting to see if Warden was behind him.

He was not.

He looked around the other sides of the tents that surrounded him, yet he did not find the elusive guard. He swallowed the lump in his throat; he had hoped that he would be near, in case the Nomads tried do anything to him. Just as it seemed he was truly alone, he felt a tug on right wing and he quickly looked to see if it was Warden.

What surprised him, instead was a tiny thestral colt with a light gray coat, dark blue mane and his golden slitted eyes staring up at him. He recognized the colt from the other day, when he had saved him from the corpulent nomad. He was awfully quiet; Quicksilver didn’t even know how he was able to sneak up on him. The little thestral beamed up at him, revealing a small toothy smile.

“Nuit Ami,(Night friend.)” the thestral said, speaking in surprising Prench. The colt then lifted himself and hugged his left side, right below his wounded wing. Quicksilver winced slightly, but he bore through the pain as the young thestral continued to hold him. It only lasted for a few moments before the young colt left his side. The colt looked from side to side, almost checking if there was anypony in sight. Then, he quickly placed something on Quicksilver’s chest and he held the item with his right wing. Before Quicksilver could reply, the young colt took off and disappeared behind the tents. Quicksilver looked down and inspected what the colt gave him.

A stone? he thought. It was an-almost round object, but one end pointing out then it should. It was a deep blue color and it reflected in the torches nearby. Upon further inspection, he saw a symbol on the inside. A crescent moon with a slitted eye staring back. He didn’t know what significance this was, but it was obvious that colt wanted him to have it. Before he could think on the matter further, he heard the crunching of snow behind him. He quickly got the stone in his right wing and turned to see who it was.

It was his silent guard.

“Now where have you been? I thought you were going to escort me?” he said, trying to act as if nothing had happen. Warden, as Quicksilver refers him to, said nothing. He moved next to Quicksilver's side and nudged him with his halberd.

“Alright Warden, lead the way.” Quicksilver said, earning a rough grunt from Warden. As he kept moving through the snow and up the hill, his thoughts went back to the young thestral. He hadn't interacted with the thestrals since his punishment, nor had they approached him afterward. He began to question if they had something planned or they were doing this out of good faith. The stone could mean anything at this point but he could not dwell on the details. Whatever rituals or practices that the thestrals had was beyond him. However, what surprised him the most was what the little one had said and his words continue to echo in his mind.

Night Friend. What could that mean?

Author's Note

Quicksilver's history is revealed and Silverwing worries for the path ahead. What will befall them in the coming days? Tune in next time to find out more.

I know it's been awhile since the last chapter but I hope this makes up for it. I will have more chapters soon and I hope you will enjoy them. Please leave a comment on what you think and I will get back with you soon.

~Broman

Artwork is done by the talented Lupiarts. Do go check his artwork out!

Winds of Rage

Quicksilver rested himself, his blanket wrapped tightly around him. He’d been lying there for nigh an hour, and the darkness of night had already seeped into the camp. The cold was bitter as ever, making him wish he was back near the bonfires. Despite his time being here, his body had not adjusted to the cold. And if there was one thing both Pegasi and Gryphon knew, it was that winter gets colder and colder as the days go by.

His only solace was the thin blanket, but the frail fabric was powerless against the cold chill. He kept his mind focused, trying to think of the fires. However, his thoughts also lingered on the stone the young thestral gave him. He didn’t know what significance it held, but he could assume any number of things. He tried to keep the stone hidden, keeping it underneath the blanket, but he knew what little the stone could give to him at this time. His stomach growled in protest, and he clutched at his sides from the pain.

C’mon, Gretchen! Where is that food you promised? he thought, trying to imagine warm food in his belly. The moment he thought about it, he heard movement outside the tent and quickly shimmied in place. Sure enough, he saw Gretchen enter with two hot bowls steaming out into the night. He quickly got up and sat up straight, waiting for the bowl to be served to him. Gretchen handed the food over, but Quicksilver noticed something was wrong with her. She had a solemn look on her face, and she didn't respond to him when he moved. She settled herself and began eating away at her soup, looking almost ravenous when she did so. Quiksilver took to his bowl and easily got the soup in. It was a little cool, but it was enough to get the warmth running through his veins. After few minutes of uneasy silence, Gretchen finished her bowl, set it to the side (albeit rather roughly) and quickly curled herself on her hay. Quicksilver, wondering what was bothering her, set his empty bowl to the side.

“Gretchen? Are you alright?” he asked, hoping he would stir the hen into speaking. She remained where she was, silent as a tomb and unmoving. Quicksilver wondered if it was something that her uncle had said, or if it was something else entirely. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder.

“Gretchen, is there anything-”

“Stow your face, fletching! I don’t want to talk!” Gretchen snapped, not moving from her spot.

Quicksilver flinched; he never seen her react like that before. Steadying himself for another verbal assault, he spoke again.

“Gretchen, I was only offering an ear; you don’t have to snap at me for it.”

Her tail flicked for a few moments. She then lifted her white head and turned to see him. He was startled, because all he could see was the red feathers around her eyes. She was staring at him like a predator in the brush.

She then, ever elegantly, lifted herself off the hay and strode towards him, her face ever constant. Quicksilver remained where he was, unmoved, yet still watchful. He didn’t know what caused her to be like this, but he knew that something had ticked her off.

She soon was standing over him, and his eyes followed up to her gaze. She then lifted her right claw and slowly wrapped it around his neck. He felt each talon tightened around his neck, deeply penetrating onto his skin, though not deep enough to break. His eyes bulged slightly, and he felt himself lifted up off the ground by the hen.

He was lifted until he was eye to eye with her. He felt the claw tighten again, but it was not enough to choke his breath. She held him there, her face near inches from his. He could feel her breath as she breathed heavily through her nostrils, her anger ever apparent.

“It’s… not…. important,“ she seethed, growling through her teeth. He shivered slightly from the sight.

“I… just wanted… to know,” Quicksilver gagged through each breath. He still hung in her claw, and he was surprised when he was lifted even higher, nearly touching the top of the tent. Gretchen then pulled him closer his nose, almost touching her beak.

“It’s personal. It’s something that you can’t understand,” she said as she tossed him back to the ground. He landed hard back on the blanket, knocking aside the empty bowl. He groaned as his body ached, and he curled slightly from the pain. He looked back at Gretchen, but she had already gone back to her bed. She padded the hay for a moment before nestling herself.

“I’ll only say this once: Don’t ask things that are private, Fletching,” she said, the anger in her voice still lingering. “It can get you into trouble,” she said as she rested back on the tent.

Quicksilver, still reeling from being tossed to the ground, remained where he was. His breathing had returned to normal, but his heart kept hammering in his chest. As the moments passed, he could only imagine the things that her uncle had said. He could take any number of guesses at what she was upset about. A loss of a friend, bad news from home, anything. He didn’t know what it could be, but as far as he could tell, this would likely linger for some time.

He soon wrapped the blanket around him and tried to get some sleep. He went and felt his neck, right where she held him. A sudden chill ran up his body.

It was not from the cold.

***

Morning came and Quicksilver felt groggy as he stirred. He lifted the blanket off of him, the warmth leaving him the instant it moved, and he observed the tent.

Gretchen was no longer inside, likely busy with her brother or uncle. It was probably for the best. There was no telling how long she would need to cool off from whatever had aggravated her. Checking under the blanket, he saw the stone still nestled underneath. Whatever the stone was for, he knew he didn’t need it now. He covered the stone once again and sat up from his bed. After stretching his sore legs, he took a breath and exited out the tent.

Warden was present next to him, his eyes focused off in a random direction, same as any guard. Everything else appeared rather normal; the guards were doing patrols or walking about the camp. Snow was everywhere, fresh from the recent downfall. He then turned to Warden, his mute guard now looking at him and still saying nothing.

Indeed, everything was normal with this gryphon.

“Mind taking me to where I can get something to eat?” Quicksilver asked. The guard, with a grunt of acknowledgement, began marching down the hill. Quicksilver followed, his body still aching from the past days labor. His muscles felt stronger, but the meager food he has been given was not enough to sustain him. Plus, he still felt tender from last night’s ‘toss-a-pegasus’ by Gretchen. Having his mind on food, he kept following at a leisurely pace. He was halfway towards the center of camp when his ears picked up a strange noise nearby.

It was the clacking of wood.

Turning to his left, he saw a few gryphons moving about in an open area. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turned to see what the new furor was about. As he moved, he heard his silent guard stop moving, his armor clacking together from the sudden stop, and he began following behind him. Quicksilver knew he wouldn’t leave him out of his sight, and for good reason. He knew that the nomad gryphons still harbored some hatred against him, so Warden was not going to leave his side. Quicksilver didn’t mind the company; he wanted to be silent anyway. As he approached the end of the tents, he finally saw what the new commotion was about.

It was Gretchen, and she was training.

Gretchen had a wooden spear in her claw and was wearing leather armor over body. Her opponent, a noble gryphon by the looks of it, was sparring with her and holding a wooden sword. Gretchen parried and struck at her opponent, clashing her weapon with his every few seconds. Gretchen then took to the air, kicking up snow up with her, and attacked downward. Her opponent blocked the blow with the end of his sword and deflected it away.

Quicksilver blinked a few times, thinking he was still asleep.

Around him, he didn't see any other gryphon paying attention, other than a few of the minotaurs. Some of them watched intently, and a few of them folded their massive arms over one another, pleased when either opponent struck a blow against one another. Quicksilver lifted a brow. He wondered why they would even watch a practice fight, but he could only guess that they respected strength or had a hidden admiration for their gryphon friends. Whatever the case, they were approving of the fight and kept silent as they watched.

Quicksilver turned back to Gretchen and the noble gryphon, watching as she dive-kicked toward him again. He braced from the impact, and when she struck, he twisted her in the opposite direction. She spun in the air for a brief moment before landing gracefully, skidding on the snow from the impact, before charging again with her spear. She was determined and she was on a mission to down her opponent.

Quicksilver could not help but be mesmerized by it.

For the next few moments, the two exchanged blows, both sides dealing feints and parrys and trying to get past the other’s defense. Quiksilver, by now, was sitting down and simply watching the spectacle. Both sides were evenly matched and each gryphon wanted to best the other in some way or form. Though the noble gryphon had a good defense, Gretchen was much faster.

“I see you’re enjoying this fight?” a voice muttered to his side. He looked and saw a gryphon he did not expect.

“Deadeye?” Quicksilver asked as the scarred soldier approached him on his right, also staring at the battle taking place. He didn’t say reply at first, only watching the two fighters have their bout.

Quicksilver turned back to the battle. Both combatants were showing some fatigue now.

“She wasn’t always like this, you know,” the gryphon said in a relaxed tone. Quicksilver looked to Deadeye, who continued to watch the two combatants. “She used to be far different than what she is now.” Gretchen parried a low blow and staggered back from a backclaw from her opponent. She roared in rage and charged again, now putting her aggressor on the defensive.

“Why are you telling me? I’m only an enemy to you,” Quicksilver said, turning his attention back to the fight.

“I know. But you showed strength within you when you stood up to that bloody cunt colonel, and I respect that,” Deadeye replied, adjusting himself until he was sitting on the snow. “But there are things in this world that compels one to do many marvels. Even when it is deemed unprecedented or confounds one into thinking it’s wrong, when it might be the opposite.”

Quicksilver nodded. “You’re quite the thinker, aren't’ you?” Quicksilver said. A rough chuckle came from the warrior gryphon.

“I can be both a merciless fighter in the battlefield and genteel in the courts at home. I’m sure no gryphon would see such weakness in me out here then if we were back in our roosts.”

“A states-gryphon and a warrior. That almost suits you,” Quicksilver said without thinking. He quickly berated himself for saying it, but he heard another laugh from the gryphon instead.

“Almost is, way you’re putting it. The true one would be Uncle Quill, for that matter,” This drew Quicksilver’s attention again. Was he mentioning some family with the same name, or was he referring to General Quill?

“What do you mean, Uncle?”

“Well, General Quill of course. Were you expecting any better?” he said without a break.

Quicksilver eyed him with mild skepticism. He then thought for a moment, and began to piece the puzzles together. Gretchen and Ebon had the same feather coloration, yet their uncle had the blue complexion instead. Quicksilver looked at Deadeye directly and his mind was riddled with questions. As he stared at Deadeye, he took notice that his silent Warden was no longer nearby. He didn’t know why he was gone, or comprehend how a gryphon of that size and in heavy armor would slip away, but his mind didn’t linger on it.

“That doesn't make any sense. You have blue eyes and that is same with General Quill. But Gretchen and Ebon have both red feathers. How does that work?” he said.

Deadeye continued to watch the battle unfold. Both Gretchen and her opponent took to the air and were dancing with their weapons in claw.

“It’s because I am their nest sibling, pegasus.” he said, which made Quicksilver all more confused. He was doubtful that Gretchen had any other siblings, but it didn’t make a salt lick of sense as to how he was related to them.

Deadeye, taking notice of Quicksilver’s doubtful expression continued. “When I was but a fledgling, my mother passed away during my birth. My father had already died even before the war, and I didn’t have any other family to help me. General Quill was a close friend to my family, and with some help from his sister, she took me in as her own, and that time she had Gretchen. I was a part of their nest and I became part of their family. I grew under their roost.” He paused, letting the words sink into Quicksilver, who was still continuing to try and piece this together.

“To explain our feathers is quite simple. My family had blue feathers in their genes, yet Gretchen’s mother had blue feathers, but the father had the red, which was dominant on his side of the family. The genetics continued in the line so… bah… I’m going off topic,” he said as he watched Gretchen and her opponent arc upward and begin clashing their weapons once again.

Quicksilver also turned his gaze back to them, continuing to be mesmerized. Gretchen flapped her wings and spun in wide arcs, at the same time clashing her spear against her opponent, and causing him to lose his balance.

The battle was not going to last much longer.

“My point being, pegasus,” Deadeye continued, not lifting his gaze from the two warriors, “Despite the differences, we are family. If all but blood that runs through our veins, we are still family. That is most important in our society, pegasus. Remember this well, for bonds between gryphon kin is much stronger than you can imagine,” he said as he watched the battle now take a new turn.

Gretchen flew ever higher, spinning in arcs before clashing directly into her opponent. The two came crashing down in a mangled pile of limbs and feathers; yet, despite the crash, it was the hen that came out on top. She stood triumphant over her her defeated opponent, the latter breathing in exhaustion and clutching his chest from the impact. Gretchen looked up into the air, savoring her hard fought victory. She then looked over and noticed Quicksilver watching her. She narrowed her eyes, as if she had bore deep distaste of him, and promptly looked away. Quicksilver’s ears fell to the side as she brought her fighting companion back on his paws.

He would need to take Deadeye’s words to heart if he was to understand what was truly hounding her mind.

As he thought what he might do to help break the ice, a loud horn sounded near the edge of camp. Every gryphon around him had stopped at what they were doing and turned their attention to the sound. Even when he looked at Deadeye, the veteran had a look of worry on his face, something that Quicksilver never seen before. The horn blew once more and they immediately took off toward the front entrance of the cave, including Gretchen who had a scared look on her face. Quicksilver didn’t know what it could be, but he was prompted to follow them.

Chasing after the gryphons, he could see a number of gryphons scattering about the place, gathering blankets, beds, and even medical supplies. As he drew closer, he saw at least a hundred gryphons moving about the front entrance of the cave, all frantic and trying to organize something, but everything looked to be in a panic. He stopped in place and saw what they were all frantic about.

They were bringing in wounded.

At least a dozen of gryphons were being brought in, all heavily wounded. He saw some scream out as they were clutching at their wounds, while a few others were being carried on stretchers into makeshift pavilions. The others were being placed out on their blankets and cots. Other gryphons began to help bandage their companions, while others were trying their best to stabilize their most severe cases. Quicksilver then saw some more bringing at least a half dozen large boars to the butcher tent. He could only guess that it was the hunting party that was sent out days before.

“What is happening? What’s going on?” Quicksilver turned and saw the Arch Gryphon, Felix, running out to him with many of his things. He carried his necklace around his neck and the small crystals jangled around as he moved. He stopped and took a breath when he stood next to Quicksilver. One of his claws was on his chest while the other clutched tightly on his staff. It seemed the gryphon didn’t get out much.

“Quicksilver, is it? Tell me what’s happening,” Felix asked as he caught his breath. Quicksilver looked at him with a curious look; Felix had acknowledged him by his given name than being called ‘pegasus’ or ‘Fletchling’.

“Your guess is good as mine, but it would seem that they were ambushed,” he said.

The Arch Gryphon shook his head. “These lands are beset by conflict, and we have the strongest warriors here. What could have bested them so?” he said in a contemplative tone. Quicksilver looked at him warily until Felix turned to see him.

“I need some help, come with me,” he said, pulling Quicksilver towards the mess of bloodied and wounded survivors. It didn’t take them long to reach the center of the mass of gryphons. The noise was deafening. Gryphons were giving out orders that intermixed with the cries of their fallen brethren. It was chaotic and little to no order was in sight. Felix lead him to where they were preparing a triage for the most severe injuries. Felix then went to the nearest gryphon. He had a head injury and several cuts on his chest.

“He’ll need some salve,” he said, as opened his bag. After searching the contents within, he found a small vial and turned to Quicksilver.

“I need you to open your hooves, Quicksilver,” Felix said. The befuddled pegasus did as he was told. Felix opened the vial and poured the contents onto his hooves. Quicksilver looked at the liquid as it ran down his front legs. He didn’t know what it could be, but Felix must have known what he was doing.

“Okay, I need you to place your hooves over his wounds here,” he said, pointing a talon directly on the wound. Quicksilver nodded and placed the salved hooves onto the wound of the nomad gryphon. The gryphon flinched a little as the salve was applied to the wound. As Quicksilver moved his hooves over the wound, Felix was already bandaging the nomad’s wounded head. After he was done, Felix went and began to bandage the cuts on his chest. After this was done, he turned to Quicksilver and grabbed his things.

“He should be fine. There are more patients to deal with.”

For the next thirty minutes, Felix moved from one wounded soldier to the next, continuing to help his fellow gryphons with his healing. As this occurred, he saw Gretchen in the midst, helping clean the wounds and bandage them as best as she could. Despite the exertion from her bout earlier, she still had the stamina to help. Her face showed much concern, and she tried to soothe the soldiers that were still conscious.

Though she did well with helping the wounded, Felix was something else all together. The Arch Gryphon continued to surprise Quicksilver, helping multiple gryphons within a few minutes of each other before focusing on the next soldier. When he first met him yesterday, he looked like all the other gryphons, only slightly more curious than for his own good. Possibly more of an egghead due to his insatiable quest for knowledge.

Now, however, Quicksilver was taken aback by his duty. Not only was he focused on the task at hoof, but he never backed down in helping these wounded. Whether they were Nomads or Nobles, he helped everyone and didn’t ask anything else in return.

He was the most selfless gryphon that Quicksilver had ever seen.

Continuing to help with the wounded, Quicksilver overheard Ebon delivering orders and calming the situation somewhat. The chatter and panic from earlier had diminished, but the urgency to get the wounded treated remained. Ebon tried to ask what had happened, but Quicksilver could only hear jumbled words from the gryphons that spoke to him. Whatever he could make of the slurred words and frantic speaking, it was obvious now that it was indeed an ambush. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two familiar gryphons speaking with Ebon. They were Talon Wing and Sky Rider, both already patched up by the other healers.They were speaking low and their conversation was lost over the the noise of the other gryphons.

“Oh, blessed Gregor,” Felix said, distracting him from his thoughts. Quicksilver turned and he saw that Felix was staring at a young Noble gryphon. He had a small hole in his stomach, most likely gored, and he clutched it with both of his claws. He was groaning softly, and blood trickled down the side of his beak. He also noticed a broken arrow shaft imbedded deeply into his left side.The young blood was barely alive, and by all accounts, should’ve already been dead.

“This will be tricky,” Quicksilver heard Felix say as he pondered on how to proceed. “Quicksilver, I need you to place your hooves on his wound. I need to perform something.” Quicksilver quickly did as he was told. He felt blood surge from the wound as he pressed the young blood’s wound. The young Noble cringed and struggled with breath. As Quicksilver held him there, he watched as Felix grabbed one of the crystals off of his necklace and clutched it tightly in his right claw.

“Quicksilver, remove the shaft from his side. Do it on my command,” he said, closing his eyes as he began to make a small incantation. Once Quicksilver removed his hooves off of the young blood’s wound, Felix immediately placed his left claw over the wound, pressing firmly against the flesh and continuing his chant. The young blood continued to groan and his breath grew ragged as every second passed. Quicksilver wrapped his hooves around the arrow shaft, clutching it tightly as he waited for Felix. Just then, he looked at the crushed crystal and saw something he did not expect.

The Arch Gryphon was performing magic.

“By the light of Geneva and her son, Saint Gregor, give me thy strength,” he said as a blue aura appeared around the shards of the crystal. The magic danced around his arm, flickering and spinning in small arcs around his claw. Quicksilver, in all of his life, never seen a gryphon perform magic.

“Remove the shaft. Now!” he demanded, and Quicksilver quickly compiled. He removed the shaft, bits of flesh coming out as he did. The young blood groaned once more (though not once did he scream), meaning there could be something internal causing him discomfort. Felix placed his right claw over his left and pressed onto the wound, the magic stirring and dancing as it went on to the wound. The magic reacted when it touched the fur and feathers, the aura moving frantically in place as he did his work. The young blood began to thrash, his eyes bulging wide as the magic did it’s work.

“Hold his wound, please!” Felix said, the youth struggling underneath him as he continued to to do his magic. Quicksilver, reacting quickly, held his hooves over Felix’s and pressed down hard, blood staining his coat once again.

The magic was wrapping and dancing around his hooves now. Feeling the magic course through him was different, yet at the same time familiar. It was a cool sensation as it went though his hooves and going back down toward the young blood. In a way, it reminded how the magic worked in Equestria, different, yet familiar. A series of lights coursed through the magic, entering inside the youth. After a few moments, the magic slowly ceased entering inside the young blood. When it was done, the young Noble was still and Felix’s removed his claws from the wound. Quicksilver did the same and he saw that the wound was completely sealed, with no signs of any carnage of the gored wound. Looking to the side, the arrow wound had also healed up, with only the stained blood remaining. Felix immediately placed a claw behind the young bloods head and lifted it up, a soft whisper escaping his beak.

“Oh youth, son of the precious father. Please rise to meet his graces,” he said, his head nearly touching the youths as he continued to repeat his words. After a few moments of uneasy silence, the youth immediately opened his eyes and coughed. Blood sputtering out, getting mostly on Felix and some landing over Quicksilver's face.The young blood lurched his head back and breathed, swallowing down deep breaths as if for the first time. He coughed as he breath, still desperate to take the air in. Felix, still stunned from the blood that was on him, patted the youth’s shoulder and breathed a deep sigh. The young blood’s eyes flickered open a few times, looking at the Arch Gryphon first, and then turning to stare at Quiksilver. He managed to cock his head slightly, a look of uncertainty plain on his face, until his head collapsed on the ground and was unconscious.

Quicksilver didn’t know why he gave him that look, but he felt in his heart that he was alright.

He turned to Felix, ready to congratulate him on the success. However, the gryphon had a look of shock on his countenance. Felix lifted a claw up to his face, shaking all the while. He pressed it against the blood and quickly drew back, inspecting the red liquid that went down his claw. His eyes widened at this, and he drew in short quick breaths. After staring at it for a few moments, the Arch Gryphon puffed out his cheeks in revulsion. He then turned to his side and heaved out whatever he had in his stomach onto the stone floor. He did this a couple times, doing it away from the youth, as Quicksilver watched helplessly as he threw up once again. Acting on instinct, Quicksilver moved to his side and placed a hoof on Felix’s back. Felix remained hunched, spitting out the last of the bile that remained his mouth before coughing up a storm. Quicksilver wondered if the magic he used in that crystal was a side effect and was causing him harm, but his fears were elevated when his breathing was returning to normal.

“Are you, alright?” It was a common and stupid question to ask in these kinds of situations, but it had to be asked. Felix lifted his head, spitting out whatever remained in his mouth and took a steady breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have…” he said as he gave another quick cough.

“But you saved him, Felix. That’s something that is beyond me,” Quicksilver said.

Felix shook his head. “No… I improvised.”

Quicksilver blinked at him as Felix removed the spittle at his mouth and began to stand properly.

“You… you did what?” Quicksilver asked, looking more surprised as the Arch Gryphon composed himself.

“Quicksilver, I have dealt with many wounds when I was at Gryphonstone. I only dealt with minor injuries such as small cuts, scratches, even cast a broken wing. But never, never in my life, did I have to deal with this.” He gestured to the injured soldiers around him. Quicksilver cast his gaze and saw that most of the wounded have started to settle, while only a few others needing attention. “This is just…” he continued, only pausing to wipe away some the blood off his face.

“This carnage is beyond me,” he said as he shook his head. Quicksilver remained where he was, sitting idly by as Felix tried to remove the last of the blood off of his face. As he stayed, he looked about the encampment once again and noticed a Nomad Gryphon he didn’t want to see. Sharp Beak was moving about the group, shouting orders to the Noble gryphons and demanding treatment for his own soldiers. He had a few scratches on his chest and legs, but no serious injuries.

Quicksilver wished he had.

The colonel, after shouting at the top of his lungs to his subordinates, cast his gaze onto Quicksilver. The two locked eyes briefly before they were separated by oncoming gryphons, but in that moment, the Nomad gryphon had deep hatred in his eyes. Quicksilver knew in his heart that Sharp Beak would take his aggression out on him.

It would be only a matter of time when that dam of rage and hatred would break.

***

Silverwing looked out upon the expanse of the plains. They had traveled for only a day, but progress was still slow. The storm had lifted for the time being, but it left such a huge mess in its wake. Snow piled high all around them and onto the road; in some areas, it came up past their knees and it was a difficult process in slogging their way through the hard packed snow. With every hour, it seemed to only to get worse, and for every waking moment out on the fields, they knew it would only get colder and colder as the days went by.

“Captain Silverwing,” she heard Shadow Hunter say. She turned to see the old veteran wrapped in a thick cape. “Captain, the guard and the militia are breaking camp. We should be ready to leave within the hour,” he explained.

Silverwing merely grunted in approval. She looked out toward the distance, seeing the mountains and their high peaks. They looked so far away, yet she felt that if she would but fly and close that distance, she would already be seeing her brother. However, she was here and he was there, and the distance between them was closing.

“Strange, is it not?” Shadow Hunter said as he looked out on the plains with her. “Winter's reach has brushed past us, and we are but saplings against this storm. The wind cuts to the bone and you're not even shaking-” he paused in his words, looking at the silent captain.

“Silverwing… Are you alright?” he asked, uncertain if his words even went through to her. Silverwing blinked a couple times and turned her head to Shadow Hunter.

“I’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat and looking out to the distance again. “What word of Strong Oak and his rangers?” she asked, hoping to stir the conversation. It appeared to have worked when Shadow Hunter adjusted himself.

“Well, they scouted early this morning to find any movements or disturbed areas. They returned not too long ago and reported that there were no such findings,” he explained.

Silverwing took the information with assurity. As long as there was no trouble between them and getting her brother, then they would have nothing to worry about.

“By the way, captain,” Shadow Hunter added. “The Diamond Dog, Brutus, has been stirring as of late. I think he might be able to talk.”

Silverwing looked at him. She thought for certain that the Diamond Dog would not speak, or even keep silent during their trip. She was not sure what made the change, but one thing was clear: She would get to the bottom of this.

“Thank you, Shadow Hunter. Please take me to him.”

The two then proceeded down to the the encampment, the line of soldiers already finishing packing their tents and storing them into the wagons. Other finished their meals and were quickly putting out the fires, except for one that continued to burn near the center. The lone Diamond Dog sat, his back turned to the approaching ponies. Silverwing could smell the burnt flesh on the small spike, smoke emanating from a burnt carcass of a rabbit. Though she has seen the bones of a Diamond Dog’s kill, she had not seen one eat up close. The Diamond Dog was cooking a rabbit of sorts, the skin cleaned and its fur settled on the side. He also had a disarmed trap nearby, most likely the tool he used to catch the rabbit.

Perhaps he is more intelligent than we believed, Silverwing thought.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Shadow Hunter said. Silverwing noticed some uneasiness in his voice, most likely from the meat that was being cooked. She couldn’t blame him; most ponies couldn't stand the sight of another animal being eaten. Shaking the thought out, she moved ever closer to Brutus. When she was near his side, she noticed a neutral expression on his countenance.

“You come to kill me yet?” he asked suddenly, not turning to her as she flinched at his remark.

“No, I have not come to kill. Only talk,” she replied. Brutus only huffed out in response.

“Typical.” He spoke flatly, almost sounding disappointed, as he continued to look over his meal. Silverwing knew she had to to break the ice somehow, but there was little no no option as to how to proceed.

“I was told you've calmed since last we spoke. Are you up to-”

“Ponies are going to die out here,” he interrupted, taking some herbs from his pouch and spreading across the meat. “They know not what’s out upon the plains.”

Silverwing took a deep breath and sighed. It was not the first time that she was interrupted, and she knew it would not be the last. Clearing her throat, she began again.

“I know there are dangers out here, Brutus, but I know that my soldiers here and my allies will prevail,” she said with optimism. Brutus remained unconvinced.

“You have courage, but that would only get you so far. What happens when they come for you? When beasts of hide and iron come stomping on your heads?” Brutus said, his gaze fixated on the meat before him. He turned it over the spike, letting each side gain an even amount of heat.

“Then we’ll be prepared to meet them. Whoever they may be, we will fight them,” she said, having stout in her heart. Brutus paused in his cooking to look at her, his beady blue eyes staring back at him as if they were finally recognized her. She hoped that she would show some conviction within him, and stir his pained heart so that they have a chance out in the wilderness. After a few moments of uneasy silence, Brutus shook his head and returned his gaze back at the food.

“Such bravery for one who is so blind,” he said, turning the meat over once more, “You cannot defeat a force that knows only rage,” he said as he picked up the end of the spit, lifting the meat off of its little stand, “They are larger than you, bigger than deer folk, and just as strong as the Taur,” he said as he took a whiff of the meat, savoring the flesh as the steam rose in the morning sky.

“Taur… Taur. Wait...you mean the Minotaurs from Tartarus?” she asked. The Diamond Dog held his pose, keeping his meal inches from his face. He turned his head slightly, his eyes staring at her in a questioning gaze.

“Equestrian language is difficult for me. But, yes. The Cloven ones are just as strong as the Taurs,” he said as he looked back at his meal. “The Cloven ones will fight and fight and fight, and they will not stop their savagery until they win or they die. For this land once belonged to them. Heard the warriors say you’re trying to find family. If the cloven ones have him, then you will find him in darkness, where the barren mountains tower over the bottomless canyon rocks. The cloven ones once ruled this land, and to those who venture deeper, few shall ever return. Mark Brutus’s words, the Horned King of the North will come for ponies.” He finished as he took a big bite and tearing flesh from the meat. The lone pegasus captain did nothing, lost in deep thought.

Author's Note

Been awhile since this was last updated, but now we've come to a crucial moment. Something has happened to the patrol, a mysterious enemy has appeared, and something has Gretchen agitated. What does this all lead to? Find out more in the upcoming chapter.

Art was created by the ever talent 8BitAmy. She worked very hard to make this art piece and I can't thank her enough for her work. Please do go check her out.

Small Beginnings

A day of mourning came over the entire camp. The gryphons on both sides cried out in anguish and vengeance as they buried their dead. At least fifteen gryphons, ten Nomads and five Nobles, were buried side by side near the edge of camp. The rest of the hunting parties remained wounded and some in critical condition. They stayed alive, however, due to the quick thinking of the garrison and the efforts the Arch Gryphon Felix.

Quicksilver was just glad the ordeal was finally over.

He watched from the side of the cooking tent as he watched dozens of gryphons mingle about the camp with their food. Their morale had been diminished somewhat from the slaughter of their brethren. Some gave out out harsh rebukes against those that had did this, but the majority remained silent, as if they had seen enough death already. They then silently went to their tents and remained there.

They all had much to think about since today.

Quicksilver finished his bowl of soup and set it to the side. His body ached from helping with the wounded, and he had dry blood stains on his coat. He tried to remove the bloody smears with the snow on the ground, but that did little to ease the stains on him. He then decided, since there was nothing left to do, to head toward his tent and earn a good night's rest. As he did so, he overheard the conversations by the surrounding gryphons.

“Have you heard that it could be the cloven ones?”

“You mean the warband? Yeah, they are moving about down below the mountain path.”

“I heard the hunting parties didn’t stand a chance.They were ambushed on all sides.”

“How is the General taking this all in?”

They didn’t hide their emotion, nor did they care if Quicksilver was nearby. They were all on edge by this brutal attack, and they had many things on their hearts and minds. This was something that was almost too much to bear.

As Quicksilver moved down the beaten path, he heard the rabble of the gryphons begin to disperse, and only the cold silence surrounded him. His silent guard, Warden, hadn’t appeared by his side, and he was alone as he walked through the sea of tents. He didn't mind this, though he did miss having his one sided conversation partner with him though. He could listen to the chatter back in the center of the camp, but it would just be the same things he’d just heard.

As he continued down the path, he soon heard voices that he began to recognize. The grating deep voice of the general was nearby, and from the sound of things, Ebon was speaking to him as well.

“Uncle, what are we to do? We can’t keeping spreading these falsehoods with the Nomads. They are likely to catch on sooner than later,” Ebon said, worry in his voice.

“Don’t get your feathers in a tussle, my nephew. If that pompous Colonel got any whiff of this, then he would turn the entire Nomads on us, and I would rather avoid shedding our own blood,” General Quill said, his voice rumbling low as he tried to reassure his nephew.

“We outnumber them by three to one. They can easily be taken care of, if the need arises.”

“But you forget, Ebon. They are Nomads. They are not honorable by any means. They would cut us down in the night before they even lost one of their own.”

Quicksilver stopped in his walk and hung next to the side of a tent. He peeked around the corner, seeing the two chat in an undisclosed location. There were no other gryphons, save the two of them. He could see the uneasiness in Ebon’s expression as the General remained calm, though Quicksilver could also see a small hint of concern on his face. Ebon looked about the area, not wanting to having anyone eavesdrop on their conversation. Luckily, they did not spot Quicksilver.

“Uncle, I don’t mean to impose on anything, but what if you say is true, then think of the implications back at Gryphonstone. Could it mean that things will turn south soon if King Bronzeclaw continues to run his reign into the ground?”

“The feeling is mutual. He keeps striking against the Noble houses for not providing enough troops on the battlefield, and he doesn't even consider the fact that we lost Prance. The Marquess houses and Noble courts are seceding from his rule and siding with the opposition. To top it all off, we have pockets of forces scattered about the land, and we don’t even know the extent of how many survived. I gave strict orders for them to evacuate the city, and yet they have not done so. I fear there might be other forces at work that have delayed their evacuation, and my suspicion points directly to the king himself,” General Quill explained. Ebon said nothing, remaining in deep thought.

Were they suppose to leave? I thought they fought to the last, stripping the city of all of it’s worth. This… this changes things, Quicksilver thought. When they entered the city, the gryphons showed no signs of retreat and offered no terms of surrender. They had fought and died for every street and every house, never giving in. What the General said had caused new interest within Quicksilver into what had happened at Prancy. Although, with this new discovery, it had explained some questions that lingered in his mind. Particularly in that the gryphons were not ordered to stay and defile the city; instead, they were meant to leave it.

“We must going. It’s late, and I don’t want any eavesdroppers,” Ebon said as he escorted his uncle back. General Quill followed, but paused and placed a claw onto Ebon’s shoulder.

“Ebon, I’m grateful for your understanding in this matter,” he said, his low rumbling voice still carrying on. He paused, looking off to the side for a moment in Quicksilver’s direction. Quicksilver could have sworn the General was staring at him, but if he had, he showed no acknowledgement of him. Instead, he turned back to Ebon and sighed deeply. “I don’t know what will happen if word gets out. My only wish is that things will go smoothly for us if the king continues to take himself down,” he said.

Ebon nodded. “We can only hope, Uncle. We can only hope,” he replied as the two took their conversation elsewhere.

“I hope so too, my nephew. I only pray that my Red Tails is still alive after-” General’s Quill's voice cut out as the two disappeared behind the sea of tents, their voices begin to intermingle with the remnants of the gryphons nearby.

Quicksilver began to wonder what had transpired. Who does he mean by ‘Red Tails? he thought. More importantly, he was curious as to what is happening inside Gryphonstone.To what extent did the mad Bronzeclaw do to upset the inner gryphon councils and their magistrates? Did all the gryphons feel the same way, or was this going to spread into a civil war? The possibilities were endless, but each implication surely had much repercussions. If the war was bad at home, then this ‘opposition’ would surely be a great threat to the tyrant king.

Maybe, just maybe, it could end this war all together.

Quicksilver, taking these thoughts to heart, proceeded up the hill back to the tent. His hooves crunched in the snow as he made his way up. As he went on, he noticed snow coming down from above them. He gave a glance up, seeing the flakes of snow descending down onto the camp. Winter was getting colder, and his body shivered as he continued to trudge up the hill. He wondered if the winter storms may even trap them in this cave.

He soon reached the top and went inside the tent. The whole tent felt frozen, just the same as the outside. No matter how warm he would get by the bonfires outside, it always seemed colder as the days went by. He crawled inside his thin blanket, which did little to combat the cold. He tightened himself into a ball, hoping to get as much warmth as possible.

As he tried to stay warm, he remembered the stone the thestral colt gave him. Looking underneath the sheet, he spotted the stone near his side. He picked it up and inspected the small rock. It still had the same image of the crescent moon and the slitted eye.

Night Friend, he thought, remembering the Prench words the little colt had said. He still didn’t understand what he meant by it. Could it be that the Thestrals considered him a friend, or did they respect him for saving their child? Whatever the case may be, he would need to get answers from them as soon as possible; they might be his allies as they remained in this encampment.

As he thought of the possibilities, he rubbed the stone with his other hoof without thinking. Suddenly, he felt a sudden jolt from his hoof. Looking down, he saw a small cut on the flat surface of his hoof and a little blood along the edge of the stone’s tip.

Bloody thing is sharp, he thought to himself. He observed the stone again with new interest. If it was sharpened even more, than the stone could easily pierce flesh.

He didn’t have long to study it before he could hear the shuffling of snow outside his tent. He quickly hid the stone behind him and settled himself back in his blanket. Gretchen entered just as he rested his head on the stone floor. He shivered from the contact, but he bore through it as Gretchen went over to her pile of hay. He watched as she settled herself into her makeshift bed, likely wanting to sleep the night away from what had transpired hours earlier. He remained where he was as she rested her head onto the hay, her front legs stretching out before folding underneath her body. She remained like that for a moment, not responding to him as before. He did observe, however, that she was eerily quiet. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t want to talk to him, or if she was simply too tired from the day’s events. Whatever the case was, he was sure it was best to keep silent. As he began to rest his eyes, however, he noticed the hen stir in her bed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice faint yet sorrowful. Quicksilver’s ears perked up, and he turned in surprise to the hen. Her face showed grief, but there also seemed to be remorse in her voice as well. He didn’t know exactly what she was planning, but he had to respond to her apology.

“What?” was all he could utter out as his mind continued to process her words. Gretchen eyed him for a moment, her gaze remaining ever the same. She showed no other emotion, no stalwart feeling of authority over him. Noticing the silence in the air, she took a deep breath and sighed.

“I’m apologizing for my behavior the other night. I was out of order and filled with hatred. I…” she paused, turning her head away as if ashamed. “Please, just accept it so that I may sleep the rest the night away.”

Quicksilver narrowed his eyes at her and his mouth began to form a small frown. “I’ll only accept it if you tell me what has been bothering you,” he said. Short and simple, but clear in intentions.

Gretchen looked at him, her eyes flaring and her face contorting in resentment towards him. She didn’t say anything right away, only staring down at him with those golden eyes. He knew he was in the right with this, but one wrong slip-up and she may hate him for it for who knows how long.

But he took the risk. He needed answers, and she was his only source for getting them.

After a minute of uneasy silence, Gretchen breathed heavily and let out a tired sigh. Her face turned away from him, and she faced the other way. Quicksilver’s ears flattened. He had likely overstepped his bounds and now would no longer speak with him. Seeing his defeat, he lowered his head back down to cold ground.

“Things are more complicated then you know, Fletchling,” she said, not looking at his direction. Quicksilver looked back at her. “Things are not going well back at home,” she continued, her voice sounding the same, though with a hint of irritation. “Remember how I said that I should not reveal anything personal? Well, it involves that, particularly with what’s been happening at Gryphonstone.”

Yet another confirmation of what he had learned a little bit ago from General Quill. But Quicksilver didn’t raise his voice to speak on the matter and allowed her to continue.

“Things are going more south there than when birds leave in winter,” she said, continuing to stare at the same spot as before. “The king is going mad. His obsession with power and his will to dominate the classes and magistrates have been unsettling the Nobles, Arch Gryphons, and the few Nomads that see reason. He is driving a wedge between the tribes and is increasingly hostile as the days go by. The Battle of Prancy was the last straw, and he’s been calling for new generals and new leadership within the military and our high councils. He’s done this throughout the years whenever his generals fail him miserably. But now, he condemns any that would disobey direct orders, even silencing those that were once loyal to him. It was almost uncommon to see him commit heinous actions against his citizens in the past. Or at least, with any small disputes.

“In the years since the war started, however, his brutality and viciousness has been more frequent and more public, and that has only united many in our country against him.” She paused to take a breath. Quicksilver had noticed that she had not revealed what was bothering her, but he knew he had to be patient if she was to reveal it.

“He attacks those who speak against him, cuts off claws for those that ignored him, and even flays those he believes to be traitors. He even flayed a child once, just for getting in his path... An innocent child that got in a tyrant’s way.” She said this as if she could hardly believe it.

Quicksilver shuddered at the last thought. How mad is this Bronzeclaw? he thought as Gretchen turned to him, her expression unchanged.

“You asked what was bothering me, fletchling,” she said softly, her eyes fixated on him. He leaned forward; the very thing he wanted to hear was within a moment’s grasp, and he had to hear it. “I know it’s not much, and I know we are far away from the capital. But even then I… I still don’t feel safe.” Then, in a quiet voice, she said:

“It’s Pride.”

Quicksilver cocked his head at her.

“Though I know I can handle myself, I still feel that a darkness has risen in this camp. I’ve began to see it in some of the Nomads. I can even see it in a few of our own Nobles. Worse still, I think pride has consumed the Mad King. His greed for power, his will on others... it’s tearing the gryphons tribes apart, and it shows here among the camp. The most loyalist of followers will do anything for Bronzeclaw and will ensure victory at any cost, no matter how high. Worst of all. I…” she paused, her voice betraying her.

Quicksilver stared at her and listened in complete candor.

Taking a steady, yet almost nervous breath, she said, “I fear for the safety of my uncle. He and my brother are the only real family I have left.”

Quicksilver remained silent as her words hung in the air. Many questions filled his mind, and he couldn’t comprehend the weight of her testimony. The things she had spoken had confirmed the words that General Quill and Ebon had spoken. But now, hearing it from her own mouth, only assured him that a possible civil war would be breaking out in the center of Gryphonstone.

But as fleeting as to that possibility may be, his real concerns were still within the encampment, and what the mad colonel Sharp Beak would do to him or to the Royal gryphons.

Quicksilver looked at Gretchen long and hard, contemplating her words. What really unsettled him was how Gretchen seemed more concerned for her uncle. What could he do to upset the inner Nomads to such an extent? What could possibly drive them to such anger and stir their hearts into hatred against their own kin? A few of the young bloods he had witnessed would not be like the others, but the older, more aggressive Nomads would no doubt bring harm to the Royal Gryphons if they didn’t get their way. Colonel Sharp Beak would be the top dog that would instigate the others into fighting. If they did anything to harm or kill his adversaries, then it would be through him or by the orders of the mad king.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Gretchen soon gave a tired sigh and rested her head back onto the the hay.

“I’m tired. You should rest, Fletchling. Save your strength as much as you can muster,” she said casually, her voice returning somewhat to normal. Quicksilver remained silent, only nodding to her in approval before resting his head back on the cold ground. He shivered slightly, and he curled as tight as he could to stay warm.

Gretchen, taking notice, only shook her head. “I know the same feeling. It’s only going to grow colder as the days go by,” she said, her breath visible to the naked eye. “Another thing, Fletchling: Our supplies are starting to run low. Provisions will have to be dispersed, which means food would mean little in the coming days.”

I hope this means I can still get soup, Quicksilver thought to himself as he continued to warm himself under his thin blanket.

“Oh, and another thing...” Gretchen added. “With the cold brewing and our supplies tightening, I fear there will be things that will be unpleasant for the both of us.” With that, she turned herself for the night.

Quicksilver slowly turned his head toward her, his brows lifting to the highest extent. “What do you mean, ‘for both of us?’” he asked. Gretchen stirred and looked at him with a half laden eye.

“Trust me, it will be a lot worse for me then it will be for you. Now sleep,” she said coldly, and promptly did. Quicksilver remained where he was, unsure if he should say something else or leave the matter at hoof. He chose the latter of the two and quickly went to sleep, believing he had enough on his mind for one night.

The last thing he wanted to know was what the hen had in mind.

***

“We’ve made good progress so far,” Strong Oak said as he observed the lands around him. Silverwing nodded as she cast her gaze about. They have been lucky for the whole day, with the snow being light and the travel was not as much an encumbrance as the days prior. The snow- laden paths had melted from the early morning sun, allowing them to easily travel at least thirty miles.

But that was only reprieve they would receive.

“We made good progress, yes, but we still have many more miles to go. If the weather holds like this, we will be there in ten days. However, the weather will no doubt hinder our progress back to two weeks if it persists again,” Shadow Hunter replied from her other side. The old veteran would know the land more than she could, and his advice would be needed in the coming days.

“You said it was mostly plains, Shadow. Is there anything else out here that you can share with us?” Silverwing asked.

Shadow Hunter turned to her gaze. “Yes. As I said the other day, there are small villages throughout the countryside. Most, as far as I heard, have been abandoned due to the war. However, we may come across a village or two that are still surviving. We Prench tend to tough it out during the long winters. I’m certain that they would survive, even way out here,” he said with hopeful optimism.

“Yes, that might be a possibility,” Strong Oak replied. “But what if the warbands have gotten to them? What if they were attacked like the Diamond Dogs in the pass?”

“I’m certain that they would have made precautions. The Prench out in the plains are more stubborn than the ones in the cities,” he explained.

“Still, we best seek aid from the villages if possible. You can never be over cautious in seeking aid, even during treacherous times,” Strong Oak said.

Shadow Hunter turned to him aghast. “You’re suggesting we ask the villages to give us what little food they have? They’ve had enough trouble trying not to starve from the winter,” he said a little harshly.

The cervine turned his gaze and tilted his head, in an almost delicate manner. “Was it a suggestion? It is merely an option,” Strong Oak replied, before turning his gaze back to the plains. “I think we know clearly as to what we may face out there if we continue on unprepared. If we are hindered by the next storm, and forced to hunker down until it passes over us, then we would run through our supplies more quickly than we should.”

“But taking away from the needy just to satisfy our own provisions? I would not degrade myself into such actions, not even if our plight was dire,” Shadow Hunter said, his voice rising a little. He took a step forward and stood in front of the cervine leader.

Silverwing quickly intervened and stood in front of them, pushing her wings out to block both of them.

“Stop this, both of you. I will not have infighting amongst us. If that crossroad ever comes, then we will decide what to do then,” Silverwing said, her voice soothing and calm. She eyed them both, hoping that they would take her viewpoint. Shadow Hunter, taking a reluctant sigh, was the first to back away.

“My apologizes, Captain Silverwing. I was only speaking my mind,” he said, bowing low to her.

Strong Oak, still held back by her wings, also gave a humble bow. “I too shall express regret for the words that I have spoken. I was only considering the possibilities for our journey. This is a war that’s not ending anytime soon, so all options are on the table. We must consider each one with careful deliberation if our path is to be a suitable course.” Strong explained.

Silverwing nodded. “I’m certain we can discuss this at another time. Right now, the others need their rest. Tell them to make camp here,” she ordered. The two obliged and began to head to the soldiers.

“A moment please,” she said, causing both to turn back to her. “When morning comes, I want both of you to send out some scouts. Find anything between us and our encampment. I want to leave as soon as we know it’s safe.”

Both nodded in agreement. “You can count on my soldiers, Captain. I’ll go seek out volunteers immediately,” Shadow Hunter replied. The old veteran turned back and headed off to speak with the company. Strong Oak, on the other hoof, remained where he was, observing Silverwing with a questioning gaze. When Shadow Hunter was out of earshot, Strong Oak approached her and spoke in a low tone.

“Something worries you, Silverwing,” he said.

Silverwing stared at him in surprise. “What? No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not worried at all,” she said, trying to compose herself.

Strong Oak remained unconvinced. “There is a hesitation in your voice. Clearly, you are troubled,” he said. Silverwing lowered hers ears and tried to look away, trying to stir the conversation on another path.

“Strong Oak, there is nothing wrong. I’m fine. So please, let us get to camp and-”

“You worry of what’s out there, don’t you?” The cervine’s perspective cut through her core. She didn’t want to admit it or even physically show it, but she was feeling on edge for the whole day.

Since her discussion with the Diamond Dog Brutus, she had been on edge of what lied out there on the plains. Her mind was focused on what enemy they had to face, on what creature that could be larger and stronger then them. Brutus had also mentioned that they were stronger than the Taur, a term based on the minotaurs of Tartarus. The thought alone scared her beyond reckoning. It has been eating at her for the whole day, the mere thought that these marauders, these beasts, could be treacherous and even deadly enough to prove fatal for her company of hardened troops. The constant worry for them all started from the massacre days earlier, and the testimony by Brutus made her mind frantic with unease.

And then there was the last term he used, the Horned King. She really didn’t want to concede anything, but the mere thought of what was out there made her nervous as the days go by.

Strong Oak, seeing the silence hang between them, took another step forward and placed hoof onto her shoulder. She shuddered from the contact, but slowly and surely looked up to meet his gaze. She stared up into his green eyes, an understanding filled within them. A caring smile came upon on his countenance.

“You are strong, Lady Silverwing,” he said in a calm and soothing voice. It was welcoming and she felt it as clear as the shroud of doubt and darkness that wrapped around her mind. “You are the center that holds this company together. You are the one who keeps us afloat among the sea of apprehension. You know that if you try to do things your way and stand alone, you are the single source of light in the darkness.” He lowered his hoof and looked back at the forming camp.

Silverwing followed his gaze, watching the inhabitants settle themselves for the night. She watched as the guards readied the food, the militia set up the tents and the Cervine helped in between, doing whatever they can to help speed the process. Silverwing watched this all take place, not noticing Strong Oak turning to her with a knowing gaze.

“But you're not alone,” he continued, causing her to turn to him in surprise. “You are here, but you have others as well. When you think that you can’t handle all of this responsibility, know that others are here to help. A single tree may be blown down by a torrent wind, but a forest can outlast the strongest of storms.”

Silverwing nodded, taking it to heart. He was right, of course: She was not alone in this endeavor, and she would need their support in the coming days. She had to keep focus, and ensure that she remained vigilant. She couldn’t allow these fears to get the best of her.

“Thank you, Strong Oak. I guess I was… distracted of late. I won’t let it happen again,” she said.

Strong Oak nodded in confirmation. “We are allies, Silverwing. We are supposed to look out for one another,” he said, giving a low bow before heading into the now-formed camp. Silverwing soon followed.

As was expected from her company, they had finished with the camp and already began serving the late dinner. She watched as both ponies and cervine mingled together and ate respectively. She watched as they chatted and spoke of many things; some simple, others complex. Some talked about their families at home, and the rest talked about their futures. It was a wondrous sight, to see that they had all come this far and worked together to ensure that they all made it through.

However, she did see a few concerned faces, some of which she already knew. A few of guards were silent during the small festivities, languishing around the smallest fire. Anvil, Heavy Blitz and Crimson Wing all sat about the fire and ate their meal in utter silence. They stood away from the farthest group of soldiers and each one did not speak to one another or even acknowledge the their passing comrades. Silverwing’s ears flattened, for she already knew the reason to their suppressed voices.

“Silverwing?” she heard a feminine voice call to her. She turned and saw Swift Leaf and Cottontail standing before her. Both had the look of tired expression and their long hairs on their head were ruffled and unkempt.

“Yes? Is there something amiss?” she asked.

Swift Leaf shook her head. “No, Lady Silverwing. We just came to report that Hammer is secured in your tent as you instructed,” she said, giving a soft smile. “We also just changed his bandages and cleaned his wound. The healing process has come a long way for the young Hammer.” She wiped away a lock of mane from her face. “Though he still has a ways to go, I’m sure he will make a full recovery.”

“And what of Hammer? Is he awake?” Silverwing said, a small hope building within her.

Cottontail shook her head, her golden locks bouncing from side to side ever so slightly. “I’m sorry. He has not awaken from his slumber.” Silverwing looked to the side with a downed expression. Seeing this, Cottontail approached her and added, “He is strong, Lady Silverwing. The healing has taken its course, but it is his own strength that will pull him through this. You’ll see.” She gave a reassuring smile. Silverwing smiled slightly back, before allowing it to droop again.

“I believe it’s best that you check in on him,” Swift Leaf said, pointing a hoof in the direction of her tent. Silverwing followed, seeing her tent in the center of camp. She turned back to the two cervines, quickly thanking them as the two departed for their companions. Silverwing headed over toward her tent, knowing all too well what laid inside. She soon was at the front entrance, ready to walk in.

But she stopped short from reaching the tent entrance. A strange sensation had clung to her chest, and she felt it beat faster within her.

It was an all too familiar a feeling.

Steeling her nerve, she forced herself to move inside. The tent had very few things in place. There was nothing glamorous as they had in the war councils on the battlefield. Those tents would have large tables, with the map of the land on its front. Chairs would line around, filled with generals and captains that come from all corners of Equestria. They were all glittered with authority and had much bravado that one would expect of them, although few fought on the mainlines with their fellow ponies. She herself had been in one or two of these meetings and met with these same generals and leaders of companies of equine chivalry and might. But she could also sense that a few among them were all talk and little action. They lacked the will to bring the fight. Some even lacked in seizing the initiative and being aggressively active. Those in particular that reeked of cowardice were only useful in the back of the lines, though they still wooed the civilians to their so called bravery.

But she was far away from one of their fancy and lively meetings now. Instead, she was in a bare tent, with nothing more than two newly-spread bedrolls, one thick blanket and two pillows. The place was barren yet simple, just as the snow outside on the frozen plains. However, there was at least one occupant that was inside with her. The one that filled one of the bed rolls and had the entire blanket wrapped tightly around a single earth pony stallion.

Hammer, she thought to herself as he watched her guard sleep in silence. His breathing was at a normal rate, the blanket moving up and down from his chest. He had remained like that ever since the surgery four days ago, nearly five now. Throughout that time, he had not stirred. For all this war cared, he could be another casualty. But even if that was true, Silverwing still believed that he could pull through this.

Silverwing moved to his side, spotting the small bowl of water and rag nearby. She settled herself down and stood by his side. She looked at Hammer, as the many times she had spent with him. Regardless of his wound he still remained ever the same, with small textures and smooth edges on his muzzle and chin and his body still remaining toned and ready for active duty, a small testament to his years of training, despite the horrors that he faced in this war. Every time she looked at him, she could see the innocent side of him, peacefully unaware of the war going on around them.

It was a peace that very few ever dreamed of.

Taking a steady breath, she removed the blanket and examined the wound on his left shoulder. True to the Cervine’s words, the wound had been bandaged with fresh cloth. She wondered how well the wound had sealed up and how much time it needed to do so. There was no doubt in her mind it would leave a lasting scar, but that was worth it if he would awake from this. She put the warm blanket back over him and grabbed the wet cloth from the bowl. Rinsing out the water, she casually pressed the cloth over his face, cleaning off any dirt and sweat that had accumulated over him. She had done this several times before, for she did not mind doing it. In fact, it allowed her mind to wander as she did the task.

This happened a few times as she cared for him. At times, she thought of the state of her company and how they could survive the coming storms. Other times, she thought of her brother and how he was being treated by the griffons. She worried at times that he would be near death, only for his captors to deny him that fate. It tormented her to no end at what they were currently doing to him, and she even suffered through a few sleepless nights. She had to hide it from the others, just to ensure they wouldn’t have too much concern over her.

But then there were the times that she thought of Hammer. Though she dared not think it at times, her thoughts and sometimes her dreams showed these fantasies between them. She tried to keep it down, ignoring the desires while still imagining the possibilities. A place where there was no war, a place that there was no fighting, and a land that was filled with peace. Along with something more precious, something more beautiful and more filling in life than anything that can possibly be imagined. A family, growing and prospering on their farmsteads, and a husband by her-

She shuddered at the thought and retracted her hoof away from Hammer’s side. She looked down at him, seeing his face cleaned of any debris and dirt. Her breath came out shaky, and she didn’t realize that she was now sweating, if only slightly. She didn’t know how long she stood by his side, but Silverwing knew it was already too long. She had her company to keep track of, her guards to be kept in shape, and a quest to fulfill.

“I’m sorry, Hammer. I have to go now,” she said softly, setting aside the rag in the bowl and standing back up. She paused, a nagging feeling crawling into the back of her mind. She kept looking at him, as if a spell had made claim over her body and soul. She didn’t know what compelled her, but she began to lean toward him. Her mind felt abuzz, scrabbling for answer as she neared him. She felt wrong for doing this, but at the same time, it was necessary and right.

No. It felt right.

It can be quick, she thought to herself, her faces near inches from his. It’s just… an innocent… an innocent…

Her mind went flat as her face drew above his forehead. Her lips touched his brow, right above his eyes. She kept herself there, holding this little moment for what felt like hours. Then, as if a spell had lifted off of her, she withdrew and looked back down at the sleeping stallion. Her eyes were half lidded as she stared at him, and her heart felt a flutter inside her chest. She lowered once more, but instead of kissing his brow, she lowered her forehead with his. She kept her head on his, her silver hair draping over his blue mane. She nuzzled for a moment, allowing herself to indulge herself with this feeling, this wonderful feeling that has stirred inside of her. When she had her fill, she backed herself away and began to head for the tent entrance.

Maybe… someday, we can try and be…

She barely opened the tent entrance when she heard a small gasp escape behind her. Her heart stopped, and she turned with hope in her heart.

Hammer.

Author's Note

Here is the next chapter in the series. Danger is growing within Gryphon Stone, a possible civil war brewing within. Silverwing continues her journey in search of her brother, and the guard she cares has stirred. More things are coming and the story will continue on in the next chapter.

Leave a comment down below and let me know what you think.

Art is created by the artist, Neko-me. He is a very talented artist, really into the details in his art. Do go check him out.

Revelations

Hammer gasped for breath, as if he was held underwater for too long. His whole body felt sore and he struggled to move under the heavy blanket. He looked up to see the top of the tent and his own breath in the cold air.

Where am I?

He scanned the room around him. His vision blurred, and he shook his head to try and clear it. He then began to lift himself up, pushing the blanket off. He shivered from contact with the cold, the warmth of the blanket quickly receding as he lifted himself up from the cot. His head hurt and he felt dizzy as he leaned up. As his vision began to collect, his eyes narrowed upon a single figure in front of him. He blinked a few times, then his eyes widened as he recognized the mare before him.

“Silverwing?” he said, his voice raspy as if he’d been in a desert.

Silverwing stared at him with her eyes open. Her face held an emotion of shock, but also of wonder. He noticed that she had bags under her eyes and her mane looked disheveled. But none of that matter to him knowing that she was here. After what felt like an eternity, she took a nervous step forward.

“Silverwing,” he rasped, coughing as his dry mouth protested. Silverwing dashed to his side and grabbed a nearby wineskin.

“Here, drink this,” she said. Either excitement or worry had flooded her, but he knew that she was doing the right thing. The wineskin touched his lips and he felt cool water flowing through him. The liquid was soothing, relieving his dry throat. After a few more quick gulps, the wineskin left his lips. He gave a quick cough as some of the water trickled down his mouth. He looked up to see Silverwing, only to be enveloped in a big hug.

“You’re alright.” she said, squeezing tighter around his body. He cringed at first from the pain in his shoulder, but he bore through it as she continued to hold him. When he grunted from the extra pressure, Silverwing withdrew from his side.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked. A hint of worry was in her voice, but she looked more reassured that he was okay. He shook his head, his mind still foggy. He tried to refocus back on Silverwing, but his shoulder pain persisted and he placed a hoof onto the wound.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

Silverwing placed a hoof onto his good shoulder. “You’ve been out for nearly five days. We’ve traversed far since you’ve been asleep,” she explained, “How do you feel? Are you-”

She was interrupted when a loud gurgle came from within Hammer. He blushed as he looked down to his belly.

“Well, I’m hungry for one thing,” Hammer said with a sheepish grin.

Silverwing gave a soft chuckle. “Wait here, I’ll fetch you something,” Silverwing said, leaving his side to exit out of the tent.

“Wait. Take me with you,” Hammer pleaded.

Silverwing turned to him in surprise. “No, absolutely not. You’ve barely awoken and your strength has not returned.”

“I have strength enough for this,” he replied, but his captain would have none of it.

“No, you are staying here. That is final,” she said, only to watch as he began to rise.

“Please, let me at least see them,” he said, as he got up off the warm cot and stood up from his position. He struggled for a moment, his legs wobbling and almost giving way from the strain. His captain could only shake her head at him.

“You’re a stubborn fool, Hammer,” Silverwing said as she went to his side. Once settled, she waited for Hammer to make his move. He began to hobble, and his wounded shoulder brushed on her side. He winced from the pain, but he bore through it. The real challenge was walking out of the tent.

“C,mon Hammer, one leg at a time,” she said, allowing him to take the first uneasy steps forward.

Each step was agonizing; the cold numbed his legs, making it difficult to walk. After the first few uneasy steps, his body fell into Silverwing. His captain held him up, and he leaned into her as she moved toward the tent entrance. As they drew closer, he felt a warm wing around his midsection, and his body was brought closer to his Captain’s side.

“Hammer, one more thing before we go out,” she said. He looked at her in slight interest. “Is there anything that you remember after the accident? Anything you said or did before you went under?” she asked.

He cocked his head at her. “Well, no actually. All I remember was falling down, slipping between consciousness, and seeing you before I passed out. That’s it, really,” he said. He saw that she looked rather relieved. He gave a puzzled look. “Why do you ask?”

She gave a small smile. “It’s nothing. Let's go and reunite with your friends,” she said as she escorted him out of the tent and into the waiting camp.

The night had already fallen and the campfires were still burning, but they did little to ease his discomfort of the cold. As the two drew closer to one of the central fires, some of the guards took notice and a flicker of hope rose within them.

“Hammer! Hammer’s awake!” one of them proclaimed. The news spread like wildfire. Both ponies and Cervines gathered about him, bombarding him with an assortment of questions. He tried to greet them each in turn, but he couldn’t keep up with them all.

“Out of my way,” a loud voice called out from the tight pack. He recognized the voice. “Where is he? When I find him, I’m going to kill him!” Several ponies parted, and Hammer saw Anvil come up and stop right in front of him. Anvil had an astonished look on his face, but he was definitely happy.

“You are, the luckiest, craftiest, most reckless pony I have ever known,” Anvil said, bearing a large grin as he came forward and hugged his old friend. “Goddess bless you,” he said, his arms tightening around Hammer, who grunted in discomfort.

“It’s good to see you too Anvil, but my shoulder…”

Anvil took the message and quickly let go. “Sorry about that,” Anvil said. He stared back at his friend and shook his head. “You had us worried. All of us.”

Heavy Blitz and Crimson Wing came forward. Hammer looked at his three friends, a large smile on his face. Before he could say anything, his stomach growled in protest once again. Those around him chortled as he beamed up at them.

“It’s good to be back.”

***

Morning came too quickly for Quicksilver. He woke up with a slight headache, but it was the least of his worries. He rose from his makeshift bed, settling the blanket to the side. He looked over to see that Gretchen was gone once again, getting food or whatever she needed.

He moved his blanket to see if the stone remained. It did.

“Fletchling, are you awake?” Gretchen’s voice came from outside the tent, and he quickly covered the stone with the blanket.

“I’m awake, Gretchen,” he said, sounding groggy as if he just woke up. Gretchen entered inside, bringing in a large bowl of what appeared to be some kind of gruel or soup. She quickly settled the bowl down, and left just as fast as she came in.

“What’s the rush?” he asked.

“Just eat, Fletchling. Today is going to be hard for both of us, especially you,” she said from outside the tent. “Be sure to eat quick. You're going to be working full time this day,” she called out as she left.

That can’t be good, he thought as he went to his meal. It was quite hot, almost scalding. However, the warmth was able to heat his body from the cold morning and he quickly finished the bowl and set it aside. Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he lifted himself off the ground and went outside.

He immediately bumped straight into his silent guard.

“Do you ever give a warning?” Quicksilver asked as Warden stared down at him. He gave a another grunt, the only reply he would ever give, and gestured down towards the encampment. Quicksilver nodded and took a step forward.

“You know, you could at least say where we’re going,” he said, only to receive the end of the halberd.

“Alright, I got it,” he said as he traversed down the hill. As he moved toward the center of the camp, he noticed that the gryphons were more active than the day before. He watched as small patrols moved to their designation positions, or a number of them moved toward the center of camp. He even saw a number going toward the open area near the encampment, the same area he was told to dig up nearly a week prior. He wondered what he was doing until he soon found himself near the edge of the camp and his eyes widened.

All the bat ponies were also here as well.

He looked and saw them all gathered together, both young and old, standing in front of a large platform. There were several guards on either side, standing over the gathered group and armed with halberds and short swords.

A sudden surge of anxiety coursed through him. The platform looked recently built, but it didn’t have any look of refined craftsmanship or smoothed out. He wondered what the platform was for, but he soon noticed a single gryphon already on top of it.

His heart clenched in his chest.

Colonel Sharp Beak, he thought as he observed the Colonel overlooking the crowd of Thestrals. As Quicksilver pressed forward, he wondered if the Nomad Gryphon was still upset over yesterday’s events. Was he going to lash his anger out onto the thestrals? Was he going to take one of them and make an example of them, just to raise his own warriors’ spirits?

The questions raged in his mind like a tempest in the ocean as he drew closer to the platform. But before he could get anywhere, he was grabbed from behind by Warden and pulled back.

The force was enough to refocus him on the present and he looked up to see his guard eyeing him with a serious look.

“What did I do this time?” Quicksilver asked, only to be replied by a simple gesture towards the other thestrals. He was then pushed towards them, as Warden stayed in his position, holding his halberd across his armor as if it was a sigil of honor.

“I took the hint, Warden,” Quicksilver said casually as he made his way towards the other thestrals. When he drew close, the thestrals eyed him warningly. They followed his movement as he stood in the midst of them. Everywhere he looked he could see them eyeing him with unease. It was as if he was but a predator amongst a herd of prey, even though he himself was a victim amongst them. Quicksilver tried to give a small smile wherever he looked, but it still didn’t reassure them. He could only wonder if they still had apprehension of him from before, or if they could be remorseful for what they had done to him. Whatever the case, he knew he would need to break the ice with them somehow.

“Listen up you primitive savages!” Sharp Beak called out, making the thestrals turn to him. Quiksilver saw that many had concerned looks, and he took notice that a few of the mothers were shielding their children from him. Although, he also saw a few of them cast hateful gazes towards Sharp Beak. Bitter resentment was all that they could give at this point. Sharp Beak began to move back and forth on the platform, acting like the shameless gryphon he was.

“There is going to some changes to your caretaker,“ he explained, his eyes scanning the crowd of thestrals as if he were looking for an excuse to cause trouble. “Recent events has made it clear that we will need to take drastic measures.”

Saving your own feathers more like it, Quicksilver thought as the Colonel continued his speech.

“With our supplies dwindling, most of our resources will be diverted elsewhere. However, since you are staying in our care, you will have to earn your keep,” he said, stopping in the center of the platform. He unfurled his wings to look menacing to his prisoners. “You are to build for us what we desire, and that you will be the culmination of our great triumph,” he said, directing towards the open space behind them. “Every one of you primitives will be given your meal once a certain point has been reached in the day. It will be then, and only then, when food can be given out.”

“What is going on here? I did not authorize this!” Ebon’s voice called out as he and his close-following retinue of guards approached the platform. Quiksilver saw General Quill among them as well, and he looked as displeased as his nephew.

When he got onto the platform, Ebon flared his wings at Sharp Beak. “Why do you have the prisoners out here?” he demanded.

Sharp Back chuckled in response.

“Is it not obvious? Our forces have been dealt a blow yesterday, and those that we can spare are forced to tend to the wounded. The prisoners are more than ‘adequate’ to help build barracks that this place needs.”

“The barracks were planned to be built next week, when the scouts have returned with the survivors of Prancy. You're just doing this so that you can punish the prisoners further,” Ebon proclaimed.

Sharp Beak shook his head. “That is where you are wrong, Captain Ebon. We are Nomads. My warriors are builders, and we can survive even in treacherous times. However, most of them have been killed or wounded since yesterday’s attack. These primitives can provide the muscle needed to help build this supposed fort,” he said, casting his gaze around the camp.

Quicksilver followed his gaze as well. The camp was steadily expanding as more and more gryphons came in, but there was little to no buildings. In fact, there wasn’t anything that could be considered a building at all, just an assortment of tents in this cave. Quicksilver looked back at the colonel, wondering if he was truly mad into thinking that he could outlast this war.

“This ‘fort’ stood long before you were even born, Sharp Beak.” General Quill came forward, his deep commanding voice rumbling in the air. “This place has outlasted many atrocities, long before we even got into this gods-forsaken war.” He took another step to stand before the colonel. The two locked eyes as if they were both wolves. “This fort needs improvements, yes, but it should not be forced onto the backs of our enemies.”

“Our enemies will not be waiting around as we stand idle. We must prepare ourselves if this incursion persists. You should trust me, General Quill. I’m the one making sense,” he said.

Quicksilver narrowed his eyes at him. That is an outright lie, he thought as General Quill shook his head.

“You expect me to believe this? Let me answer you in complete candor. What you intend to do is put hardship onto these thestrals. They were never a part of this war, yet here they are, brought against their will to do your bidding. That is not something that gryphons, of any tribe, should do. Especially against ones who are helpless.”

“That is none of your concern. These beasts were hunting our game, so all of them should pay the consequence,” Sharp Beak said. An arrogant smile rested on his face, yet it also held a veiled anger.

“At the cost of your honor? You squandered it the moment you took them in,” General Quill said. His eyes scanned the crowd of thestrals, all watching him as if he was a burning fire against a great tempest. “It’s high time you take responsibility for your actions.”

“My accomplishments!” Sharp Beak snapped. It was clear the general was getting under his skin. “Despite the interference and constant failures like you!” he said, flaring his wings to the highest extent. General Quill glared at him, his eyes piercing him as if he was challenged. Ebon readied a claw on his blade, but General Quill lifted a claw up and stopped his nephew.

“Careful, boy. You are far too young to think that you can make changes for the many. If you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself, or respect for me, then you should tread cautiously on this road you take. You would do well to banish these thoughts from your mind,” he said, folding his wings and taking a step towards Sharp Back. The latter became dumbfounded as the general spoke, his deep voice carrying his strong words into the wind. “Never communicate seditious thoughts or subversive tricks to those you think your above yourself or to any one else. For the laws of our kind still reach out here, and you’d do well to remember that sentiment,” he said, standing before the colonel and staring him dead in the eye.

Sharp Beak remained unmoved, but his eyes, as far as Quicksilver could see, looked troubled. For a moment he said nothing, only staring at the general with contempt, but sure enough he backed away. He turned his head, looking at the thestrals with contempt, but he looked defeated before them. General Quill nodded in approval and turned away.

“My gryphons will be watching the prisoners as they work, but they will go as far as they will go and you will not push them beyond their limits. Am I clear, Colonel Sharp Beak?” General Quill said, turning his head to see if the colonel got his message. Sharp Beak looked in his direction, a hateful leer going at him.

“Transparently,” he said simply, but through barred teeth. Sharp Beak turned and went off the platform, but only giving a quick glance over the crowd. Quiksilver saw that he looked upon him. No doubt there was a deep contempt brewing within him and Sharp Beak would gladly take it out on him, given the chance. After a moment of silence, he departed off the platform and into the camp.

“Alright now,” General Quill said, turning to face Ebon. “If they are to work, then make sure they are not overburdened. I’ll leave this charge to you,” he said, before departing off the platform. Ebon then turned to the thestrals before him and outstretched a claw to them.

“All of you follow us near the cave entrance. You’ll be given your assignments there,” he said. He began moving towards the cave entrance. The thestrals followed, but with the guards watching their every movement. Quicksilver found himself in the middle of the pack. He cast his gaze from left to right, and saw that none of them were paying attention to him. He decided to focus his attention to Ebon, who was moving ever closer to the entrance. He didn’t know what the captain had in mind for their work, but at least it wasn't Sharp Beak leading them through a death march.

After a few minutes of walking, Quicksilver found himself at the front entrance of the cave. He took notice of a large abundance of wood stacked near the entrance, with several gryphons guarding it. The majority of logs were six meters in length and at least half a meter thick, although he did see logs that were over twice that as well. Coming out of the entrance, he saw many minotaurs carrying the heavy loads. They all settled the wood into large stacks, piling them up until they stood taller than the the tallest Gryphon. They soon went back into the entrance, most likely gaining more lumber.

“Half of you will be carrying the heavy loads to the designated area, but the ones who are weaker will be used for other means,” Ebon said, having several of his gryphons bring out what appeared to be harnesses. “All males are to pull the loads. The females and elderly will help even and sand the wood. Now let's get started. Get done with your work early, then you will all be given a warm meal,” he said as pairs of thestrals were brought forward and the given the harnesses. Ebon soon began to shout orders, and more gryphons from nearby began to help secure the loads of wood to the harnesses. Quicksilver could only watch as the work began, until he felt a bump next to him. He turned to see a Royal Gryphon staring at him and holding a harness.

“We’re one short of a puller. You go with him.” He pointed toward a thestral who was already hooked up to a load. Quicksilver nodded, not wanting to speak out to the Royal Gryphon, and began to hook himself into the harness. After a minute passed, he was already hooked up, the harness feeling tight but comfortable for him. He then was escorted to the heavy load, and the rope was tightened onto the heavy load. As The Royal Gryphon did this, Quicksilver was able to get a good look of the thestral standing next to him.

The Thestral was large in stature, easily standing a head taller than him. He had a dark blue coat, and the mane was a lighter shade of blue. His eyes were a deep red, similar to the other thestrals he had seen. Quicksilver saw his cutiemark bearing a flower and a crescent moon. Thinking he had stared long enough, he started to look away. He took notice, however, that the thestal was not as nervous as the others. He was more curious than scared. After the Royal Gryphon hooked the last of the ropes to the bundle of wood, he gave the call.

“Move out to the open area. There will be others waiting for you,” he said before he went off on his own way. Both Quicksilver and the thestral began moving, their hooves digging deep into the snow. Quicksilver felt the harness tug on him as he moved, and he pulled with all of his strength to move the lumber. Slowly but surely, they began to press onward and the two continued to march toward their destination. As the two continued to march, Quicksilver kept looking back at the thestral. The thestral would occasionally look at him, and it ate at him in wondering why the thestrals were still nervous of him. He guessed he had to put up with it as they moved along.

As the two kept a steady pace toward their destination, he kept remembering the night when the young thestral that gave him the stone. He was able to remember the word that little one had spoken. The word was so simple, so plain, yet it meant a lot to the younger thestral. He closed his eyes, remembering the words, and muttered them under his breath.

“Nuit Ami (Night Friend),” he muttered the Prench words. This caused the thestral next to him to stir.

“You... you speak the Prench language?” the thestral asked. Quicksilver stared up at him in surprise.

“Yes… yes I know the language. Do you know Equestrian?” Quicksilver asked in the same language, excitement in his voice.

“A little. Only words and phrases, but not much for a conversation,” the thestral said as he looked away for a moment.

Quicksilver nodded. It was possible that they were still shy with him.

After a moment passed between them the thestral turned back to him. “I’m sorry for earlier. You know, beating you. I ask forgiveness for what I and my people have done,” he said. His ears drooped down and Quicksilver shook his head.

“There is nothing to forgive, my friend. It was Colonel Sharp Beak who instigated it,” Quicksilver said as the thestral sighed.

“Ah, yes. The bastard of this rotting hell,” he said. Quicksilver blinked in surprise. He never took the thestral to be the cussing type.

You sounded like Deadeye, Quicksilver thought as he chuckled at the insult. The thestral gave a smile, revealing a toothy grin. Quicksilver was little unraveled by that. The thestral was still a pony, but a pony with sharp fangs does tend to unnerve a pony if they're not prepared. Thinking on what else to say, he tried to stir the conversation to his favor.

“So, can you tell me how you ended up here?” Quicksilver asked. He looked away for a split second to see if there was anyone watching.

“When we're done and once I ease my people’s fears, I can explain to you all that I know and what had become of us. There is much to discuss and I would rather not speak to unwelcome ears,” he said, gesturing to a pair of Nomad gryphons who were watching them. Quicksilver nodded, knowing all too well that a slip of the tongue may lead to trouble. As the two carried on to their destination, another thought crossed his mind and he turned to thestral.

“My name is Quicksilver. What is your name?” he asked. The thestral turned to him with a small smile.

“My name is Nightshade Moon, and I am the leader of my people.”

***

Silverwing awoke to the sound of busy ponies nearby. She rose her head from the warm pillow and listened with care. As she adjusted herself, she could hear the guards chatting away, and the smell of breakfast hung in the air. She could smell fresh barley being made, and she found a strong scent of honey as well, most likely a item brought by the Cervine’s.

She sighed; she was probably too jumpy. She returned her head to her pillow, trying to take in its warmth once again. As she settled once again, she saw that her gaze had drifted to Hammer. He was sleeping on the other cot next to her, his mouth open and a soft snore coming out. She breathed a deep sigh as he slept.

The night before, he was able to get a good meal, chat with friends, and get up to speed on the current events. Seeing him relax and being among his companions did ease his spirits, but it did tucker him out that night. Before he was settled to bed, Cottontail and Swift Leaf did a quick check up on him and found that he was healthy, but still healing. It was a good sign for her, as she would need all the help she could get as they continued to cross the plains. She tried to get back to sleep, trying to relish whatever sleep she could gain, but her stomach growled in protest. Sighing in defeat, she decided it was best to get up.

She lifted the blanket off of her and went to grab her cloak. She tighten the fabric around her neck, but stopped to see the small scars that were all across her body. She gave a tired sigh; those scars were merely reminders of the close encounters she had to been through. Ignoring the scars and memories of the past, she quickly wrapped the cloak around her body and exited the tent.

The smell of fresh eggs hung in the air and she saw a pot filled with steaming broth nearby. She was certain the cooks had worked hard to make the food good, and she could already see a line forming to get a taste of the soup. As she continued observe the camp, she noticed both Strong Oak and Shadow Hunter were discussing to themselves, chatting of possible strategies or even discuss of what they do as they head out. Silverwing also looked and beheld the Diamond Dog, Brutus, sitting by a nearby fire and chewing on something that appeared to be meat. There were no other pony or Cervine going near him. She continued to look at her surroundings when she noticed sompony on the eastern outskirts of the camp, and approaching fast. She saw a pair of antlers from the incoming figure, and immediately knew it was a cervine.

He’s coming awfully fast, she thought as the large buck was almost upon the camp. Her eyes widened slightly, realizing from the night before that she had ordered the scouts to scout ahead and the way he was moving suggested something terrible has happened. She moved forward, but at a reasonable pace, not wanting to attract attention to everypony else. As she moved, she spotted both Strong Oak and Shadow Hunter seeing her and they looked in the direction she was looking and spotted the scout. Sensing the urgency, they quickly moved towards the direction near the end of the camp. However, to their chagrin, the scout was much quicker and was already in the camp before they get to him first.

“Captain Silverwing! Captain Silverwing!” the scout called out, alerting everypony within ear shot. Everypony was staring out to see the noise and Silverwing quickly went to the scouts side.

“I’m here, what did you-”

“You must come, immediately,” the scout interrupted her, his breath coming out heavily but smoothly. The other guards around them began to murmur and Silverwing had to recover the situation.

“Please, explain. What is it that you see?”

“The village ahead of our path is destroyed!” he said, causing the air to escape from her.

Everypony around them went silent. The cheerful talk mere moments ago was now gone, replaced with this grim reality. Silverwing turned to Strong Oak and Shadow Hunter, and they both had a look of surprise in their eyes. She quickly scanned the ground and saw that everypony was unsure how to proceed. Taking a quick breath, she raised her voice so that everypony could hear.

“Everypony listen up! Quickly eat up and break camp! I want you all ready to move out within thirty minutes! Hop to it!” she ordered. Within moments, the camp was in a flurry of activity. Guards, Militia, and Cervines were all quickly eating whatever they had and already breaking down their tents. Silverwing turned and gave her next order.

“Anvil,” she called as the guard quickly approached her. “Get Hammer into the wagon and make sure he secure. Then when everypony is ready, continue your trek east,” she said as he gave a quick salute.

“Yes, Captain,” he said as he went off towards the wagons. Turning to StrongOak and Shadow Hunter, she quickly gave her next order.

“I want you two to follow me. We leave in one minute for the village,” she ordered as she quickly took off for her tent, not giving her companions a chance to reply. She dodged a few ponies before entering her tent and searching for her sword. After a few seconds of searching, she picked up her sword and quickly tied the buckle around her waist. As she did this, she could hear Hammer stirring behind her.

“Captain Silverwing? What’s going on?” he asked as he shook the last bit of sleep from his eyes.

“”A nearby village has been attacked. I’m going to investigate. Anvil is coming to get you after he gets the wagons ready for departure. Be prepared when he arrives,” she briskly said as she finished tying the sword belt and began heading outside.

“But-” he tried to say, but Silverwing turned and gave a quick glare of authority.

“Do as I say, Hammer!” she snapped and headed outside, leaving the stallion where he was. As she moved, she felt a little guilt build inside her. But her mind was more focused on the task at hoof: getting to the village and assessing the extent of the damage. As she neared her destination, she felt a pair of eyes watching her. Despite the hussle and bussle of her troops around her, she could still sense someponies gaze.

She merely took a glance to the side and noticed Brutus was already standing up, looking at her with an intensity she could not describe. She also noticed that he was gripping the edge of his axe, his paws holding tightly to the pommel. His attention was surely seized when the scout called out his findings.

She quickly cast a glance forward and saw that both Strong Oak and Shadow Hunter were ready to leave. She nodded to both of them, studying their features and expressions. Shadow Hunter had a look of worry, concern for his own troops perhaps, but it could also be the village itself. The scout didn’t give that much details, but the look on his face was a cause for concern. Strong Oak stood tall and collected, yet he also had a look of uncertainty. Taking in the moment and preparing herself for what’s to come, she settled her sights to the east, where the snow covered plains laid ahead of them.

“Stay close, and keep up!” she called as the three took off in the direction of the village.

***

Ten minutes passed since the three had took off in the direction of the village. Their hooves pounded the snow, kicking it up into the air behind them as they continued on their path.

“My scout informed me that the village was at least a few miles from our campsite. We should be getting close soon,” Strong Oak stated as he kept his pace with her. Silverwing nodded briefly, still focusing on the path in front of her. They kept their pace until they spotted what looked like a windmill and a steady stream of smoke lingered over head.

“There it is!” Silverwing said, and the three quickened their pace. However, with each step taken, it filled her with dread as to what lied before them. As soon as they neared the windmill, they came to a complete halt, their hooves digging into the snow and dirt. Silverwing cast her gaze around them, and her eyes widened in horror.

The village was utterly destroyed.

Small hovels and buildings were in shambles, pieces of roof were scattered upon the ground, and graffiti was everywhere. Small fires still blazed in some of the homes, but posed no threat to them. Symbols of strange origin were splattered upon the walls and streets, none of which made sense to her. As she observed her surroundings, she kept searching where the other scouts, but her mind was also focused on something else, something that was missing the moment she entered the village.

Where is everypony? she thought, her eyes still searching for any signs of life.

“Captain!” a voice came from nearby, alerting the three. Silverwing turned and she spotted one of her guards next to a corner of a house, waving at them. She recognized the guard as Charger, known for his fiery red mane, a distinguished scar on his right cheek, and his blunt demeanor. She couldn’t have asked for a better scout. They quickly closed the distance to him, but he raised a hoof to stop them.

“Before you go any further, know it's a bloody mess,” Charger said, before turning to face what lied ahead. Silverwing, bracing herself for what was to follow, moved to see what was there.

“By the Regal sisters,” she said as she saw what the guard warned.

She knew now where the villagers were. They were all piled up on in the middle of the village. Young, old, nopony was spared.

She turned her gaze away for a second, trying to get the image out, but she looked back and knew it was real. Innocents butchered, killed in this bloody war, caught in the middle of this conflict. Silverwing couldn’t help but think that they did nothing to prevent it. Small fires lingered around them, casting a dreary look upon the scene before them.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

As she looked about, she noticed the other scouts that were sent. One was a Cervine, with a long golden mane. A bow was strapped onto his back, ready to take it out at a moment of danger. The other was a militia member, who sat on his haunches and was crying softly to himself. She could assume a number of things, but there was no doubt that he had a connection here. Shadow Hunter was already with him, asking him what happened, but he could not say much but a few mumbled words.

Silverwing shook her head and cast her gaze back at the pile of bodies. The way they were thrown about, the gashes, the gored bodies. It was similar to the Diamond Dogs they came across in the pass. However, she remembered there was no graffiti or strange runes back in the pass. Yet here, they were everywhere.

“What do you make of this?” she heard Strong Oak speak to her. She turned to him and saw that he had a concerned look on his face, but still kept his composure.

“I don’t know what to think of this….this slaughter,” she said as she looked about her. “First it was the Diamond Dogs, and now this village,” she said as dared herself to look back at the mass of villagers piled, all frozen over from the winter’s chill. “The bodies. They share the same wounds. These are not griffon works,” she said, still trying to comprehend it all. Strong Oak took a step forward and observed with her.

“I also noticed there are no cross bolts or arrow marks,” he added, and she turned to him to continue his inquiry. “A griffon would always carry such prizes fit for the skies. Yet I see no indication on the snow. There are also no claw marks on the roofs or stone. It would be noticeable if they took off or landed,” he said as he observed the few remaining homes that still remained in stable condition, albeit in a ransacked state.

Silverwing nodded and looked down at the snow, spotting the large cloven prints upon the surface. She bended down, pressing a hoof against the larger print. She gave a small shudder, but she took it as just the cold.

“Prints. Same as the ones that we saw near the Diamond Dog massacre,” she said, as Strong Oak bended down to see the prints and gave a small grunt.

“Well, it seems our ‘Brutish’ friend was telling the truth,” he said, as he looked about the village. “The question that remains is what we do from here.” He stood up to cast his gaze back at the other scouts. As he did this, Silverwing kept her gaze on the prints before standing up as well.

“I guess the best option now is to ensure we keep a cool mind and stick together for the long run,” she said. She turned to Strong Oak, but noticed that he was not staring at her. “Strong Oak, are you-?” she asked, but Strong Oak lifted a hoof. His ears were moving about, and his eyes were wide. Silverwing didn’t know what he was doing, but she quickly looked at his scout for answers. He too was alert, and his ears were constantly moving, waiting for a noise.

“Captain, I think we should-” Charger began to say when Silverwing raised a hoof at him. He went silent, and the others did as well. Silverwing looked back at Strong Oak, his eyes looking about slowly and his ears searching for the source of what they heard. She heard the cervine scout bring out his bow, slowly placing the end on the ground and ready to cock a arrow. Silverwing kept looking around, hoping to figure out what they heard, but didn’t know what was out there. She then placed a hoof on her sword, ready to draw it from its scabbard at a moment's notice.

Something snapped.

Silverwing whirled her head to the side and saw a rope going in the air. Several pots and pans fell to the ground, clanging and breaking upon the ground. The noise alerted everypony, but nothing else happened. Silverwing could feel her heartbeat rise slightly, and her hoof wrapped around the sword pommel. She cast a quick glance to Strong Oak. He was staring off at the pots, but his ears were still moving. She focused her attention on those ears, wondering and waiting, where they would turn to next. Then, as the ears slowly turned back, Strong Oak whirled around and Silverwing followed suit. She looked at a building, the same where the cervine scout was, and he had whirled his bow and nocked an arrow on the string, ready to launch right then and there.
However, he hesitated.

And Silverwing saw why.

“By the goddess,” she said as a little unicorn filly came out of the building.

“A child,” Strong Oak whispered. His sword-like weapon on his leg was ready, but he immediately retracted the weapon. Silverwing released her hoof around her sword and took a step forward as the filly slowly came forward. She was a tiny little thing, barely looked to be a few years old. Her body was covered in dust and the only thing that seemed to shine was her blue eyes. She looked about her, spotting the cervine scout and the bow he had. Ignoring him, she kept walking, moving ever so slowly to them. Silverwing heard Shadow Hunter and the militia member coming behind her, as Charger came forward with a shocked expression.

The tiny filly stopped in her tracks, seeing all of them standing in line. Silverwing noticed that she looked dazed, barely acknowledging that they were there, until her eyes focused on her. The filly gave a weak smile, as she slowly came forward. Feeling a deep instinct within her, Silverwing took a step foward, looking down at the filly that slowly came to her.

“Ma-Maman,” the filly said in Prench, her voice weak. Silverwing gasped slightly and stopped in her tracks, seeing the filly keeping her pace. She was calling her mother.

“Maman,” she repeated, ignoring the destruction and horror that surrounded her.

Silverwing was breathing slightly, a deep feeling coursing through her veins and making her shudder all over. The filly reminded her of the child back in Prancy, and seeing her like this made her tremble. As soon as the filly was standing before her, the filly fell forward, too weak to stand. Silverwing immediately swooped her up in her hooves, sitting on her haunches as he held the tiny pony in her arms.Once she had her, she moved the head until she was facing toward her. The filly opened her eyes, staring up at her like she recognized her.

“Maman, I’ve found you,” the filly said, speaking in Prench, “It’s…. It's quiet now,” she said, as Silverwing continued to hold her.

“Everything is alright. You’re safe little one,” Silverwing replied back in Prench, hoping to soothe the little child. The filly looked up. Her eyes almost looked as if they were fading.

“They came, Maman. They came like beasts from the blackness,” she said, her head bobbing slightly, trying to stay awake. Silverwing felt her heart strings pulled, and she kept coaxing the little filly trying to stay responsive.

“Be strong, little one. You can make it. I’ll help you.” she said, as the tiny filly nuzzled her head closer to her chest.

“I’m scared, Maman. With cloven hooves, and shouting, they came for them. Everypony…. except me,” she said, softer this time, almost sounded like a whimper. Her breathing was slowing down, and Silverwing took notice.

The filly was dying.

She could make it, if she took flight and got back to the camp. She might make it.

She unfurled her wings, spreading them out into the air. Before she could take off, she gasped when she felt a tiny hoof press against her chest. She looked down at the filly, her eyes like pinpricks as the little filly gave a little smile.

“An angel,” the filly said with a smile on her face. “A pretty angel. Just like you…. promised…. maman,” the filly said, as her eyes grew dimmer and the light in her eyes faded away. She slowly closed her eyes and her breath escaped from her.

Silverwing froze on the spot, her eyes fixated on the filly she held in her hooves. For a few moments, she did nothing, looking at the filly before her. She hoped she would stir, anything for the little child to awaken. However, after another moment of silence, the filly would not move. She leaned her head down, placing an ear over the fillies chest. She could hear no heartbeat.

The filly was gone.

She lifted her head back, expressing remorse and feeling emotional at the loss. She gently placed the child on the snow laden ground, the filly still having a smile on her face. She felt tears building up, ready to break the dam that she has put up. Ready to tear down the staunch steadfastness on her countenance. She got up and turned, looking at one of the buildings nearby that was still intact. She made her way towards it, ignoring her companions around her and keeping her head low so that they wouldn’t see.

“Captain Silverwing, I-” Shadow Hunter went to say, but she ignored him, keeping her pace until she was at the building and opened its barn doors. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she allowed her emotions to be free. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks and she continued to shudder. As she continued to cry, she felt the need to panic and it was growing quickly. She stopped herself by lifting up her right leg and sinking her teeth into it. She winced slightly, but the pain was a distraction from the memory. She kept herself like that, trying to focus other things, but no matter what she could think up, the filly was on the forefront of her mind.

She’d been able to compose herself when she was in battle. She was able to calm her mind when she was in Prancy and the horrors that awaited. She was even able to keep herself focused when they were at the Diamond Dog massacre. She could only imagine as to why she was she was having these feelings now. As her mind wandered back to those events, she kept thinking about her duty of service, to be there when the time comes to serve. She kept reminding herself why she was out here, why the mission mattered, and why she need to focus.

Think, Silver, what is important to you. What do you care for the most. Your Brother, your company, Hammer, and... She paused, reminded of the time that she had thought of those feelings for him. It was all she could think about, why she cared for him and her brother. The warm thoughts of being with them calmed her mind, and the tears soon ceased. She removed her teeth from her leg, feeling a numbing pain afterward. She took several deep breaths, feeling more and more serene as time went by. She didn't know how long she remained where she was, but the time alone helped calm her down. As soon as she calmed, silence returned to the room.

That is, until she heard somepony take a heavy breath and she became alert.

“Who’s there?” she called out, looking around the room to see where she was in. The first thing that caught her sight was a large mill in the center of the room. A harness dangled off on the yoke of the mill, and granary was all over the floor. She looked up and saw a hole in the roof, and much of the timber was scattered off onto the side. She looked around a bit further, and realized it was both a mill and storehouse. She noticed many more packaged food nearby, not even touched by the chaos that was outside. The only exception was the mill before her and a large pile placed haphazardly. Curiosity got the best of her, and she called out once again.

“Is somepony alive? Show yourself, please,” she said, hoping to coax whoever was there to come out. She took a step forward when a pile of the food began to stir, and piles of the granary fell from their stacks. She looked at the pile, seeing more and more of the stack foods coming down. A figure appeared underneath, full of what appeared to be hair.

“Are…. are you alright?” she asked, unsure as to what to expect as the large figure began to stir. A loud grunt came out, and large horns rose up behind the boxes, revealing strange round piercings around each horn. It’s mane was much longer, stretching down past its face. The creature turned, the brown-like mane covering the front of its body. The only exception was a large snout in the front. A round cloven hoof rose up from the pile, pushing past the hair in front of its face. Her eyes widened and she took a nervous step back, seeing a red eye staring right back at her. The creature then gave a wide grin, and a deep menacing laugh emanated from it.

“Hmmm. Fresh meat.”

Author's Note

Here is the next chapter. Where we now have witness what the creature actually is. As Silverwing is dealing with this new threat, Quicksilver was making headway with the Thestrals and how there is more to them then meets the eye.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a comment down below, and I will talk to you all later.

Also, bear in mind, the picture you see is but a draft of what is to come, so this will be edited and shown the full colored version once it's ready, and I will tell the guest artist when its available.

Edit: Hello everyone, the new picture just came in so here it is by Segraece. Check out her artwork, for it is really cool.

~Broman

The Monster Revealed

Silverwing continued to back up as the cloven beast rose higher, stepping forth out of its hoarded pile of food. She drew her blade.The cloven creature was on all fours and nearly thrice the size as her. She had to be extremely careful, or she would be at its mercy. The cloven creature looked down at her, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

“Pony escaped killing. Missed all… pain,” the cloven beast said. He looked to be almost in pleasure of such thoughts. He continued to give that sinister grin as Silverwing continued to back up, ready to make a break for the door. The beast looked at the door then back at her, chuckling all the way.

“Pony want to leave. I show thing or two about pain,” he said, taking a few steps in front of the door. However, Silverwing was already ahead of him. She opened up her wings,and took to the air, aiming for the open hole in the roof. Halfway there, she saw the creature jump at her.

“You can fly!” she called out.

“No, jump good,” he replied as he swung a hoof at her. She dodged, the large limb barely missing her wings. She was forced to go back to the ground, but the creature landed nearby with enough force to shake the entire foundation. She turned to react, but the creature was already charging her. She dodged just in the nick of time; the bull creature went past her and crashed into the mill, shattering the bedrock from its foundation. The monster shook its head, stunned by the destructive hit.

She had a chance.

Drawing her blade, she dashed forward, her blade pointing directly at the monsters hide. Her blade pierced his skin, and the creature roared out. However, she could not push her sword in further, and it was already recovering. Fearing this, she pulled onto the blade, but found that it was embedded deep inside of the beast. She desperately heaved and tugged upon the blade, but it would not budge. She then felt a cloven hoof wrap around the front of her cloak, hoisting her up in the air. She stared right at the beast, and its red eyes stared back at her. It chuckled as he stood higher on its two back legs, and its other cloven hoof pulled back.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” it said, almost letting go of her cloak while sending the other hoof straight at her. The hoof struck her face, the force sending her flying back in the air until she crashed into the barn doors and out into the open. She tumbled on the snow once, then twice, before tumbling herself upright and sliding on all four hooves. She coughed, and blood appeared in her field of vision. Bells rang fiercely in her ears. She shook her head and looked up, seeing her companions rushing to her.

“Silverwing! What happened, what’s wrong!?” she heard Shadow Hunter call out, but his questions were soon answered when the beast barreled through the door. The wooden barn doors burst forth sending its frame scattered everywhere, scaring everypony in its field of view.

“By all the gods, what is that creature!?” Shadow Hunter yelled, brandishing his weapon as he watched the beast stop dead in it’s tracks.

“It appears to be a bull! Let's end it before it does more harm!” Charger yelled, digging his hooves into the dirt and ready to make a move. The creature, overhearing this, fumed with rage.

“I’m no Creature!” it bellowed, thrashing his head about and picking up snow and dirt in its horns.

“I’m no Bull!” it screamed again, stomping its cloven hooves. He then pounded on his chest, emphasizing each word as he made itself known.

“I... AM…. YAAAAAAKKKK!” it screamed at the top of its lungs. It immediately charged straight at them, with little to no care for its own safety. Silverwing heard a twang of a bow and arrows flew at the monster, piercing the hide but not slowing its momentum. She felt a hoof wrapped around her midsection as Shadow Hunter pulled her away. Not a moment later, the ‘yak’ barreled through them, barely missing them before turning on them once again.

Silverwing watched to see the other militia scout, rushing forward with spear in hoof. The spear punctured its side, and the yak howled in pain. Even if it was a beast, it could still feel pain.

However, as soon as the militia scout removed the spear, the yak was already upon him. With one swing of its massive horns, it broke the spear out of the militia's hooves. The militia was stunned for a moment, but that moment of hesitation cost him. The yak quickly lowered its horns and with a single shunt, the horns pierced the militia's belly.

The militia cried out as the horn went deep into his body, but the yak did not stop there. He lifted its massive head, taking the poor militia guard with him. With the horns pointed upward, the militia screamed in agony as his body went deeper into the horn, going clean through to the other side of his body.

After another excruciating moment, the yak threw its head back, sending the militia off its horn and crashing onto the ground with a sickening crunch. Silverwing watched Shadow Hunter look over, seeing the militia trooper fallen and not responding. However, he was more focused on tending her.

“Stay here! We’ll handle this!” he said as he placed her near a home. He turned back towards the foe, but the yak was already barreling towards them in reckless abandon. He was only deterred when arrows came from the side and hit its neck, making him turn towards the cervine scout and Strong Oak.

Silverwing watched as Strong Oak drew his blade, which was attached to his hoof, and quickly rush to meet the yak. The yak thrashed his horns about, but Strong Oak merely dodged the attacks while thrusting his blade into the side of the beast. He did this several times, leaving small wounds that made the monster lash at him at every turn. However, with many of these light attacks, it made him more slower as time went on.

She then watched as Charger quickly rushed in, brandishing his spear and ready to thrust into it’s vital point. However, the yak noticed this and quickly backhanded a cloven hoof, striking Charger and sending him back several feet. Strong Oak spotted this, and quickly went to Charger’s side, grabbing him and bounding off before a cloven hoof could stomped on him.

Silverwing then saw Shadow Hunter and the cervine scout ready to strike. But Silverwing could see that there was still fight in the beast.

It was going to fight to its last breath.

She looked around and spotted a round stone, about the size of her hoof, and she quickly seized it. Standing up on her hooves, albeit a bit unsteady and shaky, she quickly aimed at her target. She could see that the yak was covered in a dozen arrows, and the sword in its side. She knew she had to reach it in order to properly help.

Taking a deep, steady breath, she threw the stone at the yak. The rock hit it right on the side of it's head. The yak turned, its red eyes blazing and blood forming at his nose and mouth.

“I’ll kill ya! Kill ya all!” the yak roared, shaking its mane before charging straight at her. She didn’t realize how fast he would respond, and she had to time herself to jump and pull her sword from his body. Her vision was still fuzzy, but she managed to focus on the rampaging bull. She kept thinking her plan of attack, imagining every angle, every possible solution. She made a stance to dodge, but her back legs buckled and she fell back, feeling the earth tremble from the force. She tried to get up, to keep fighting, but as the beast swiftly approached her.

She froze, her mind focused squarely on her brother and Hammer. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t react. Her mind flashed images of them, and they would not stop. Time seemed to slow down for her as the monstrous yak barreled down at her, kicking up dirt and snow in the air behind it.

Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, and she felt that this was the end. She was never going to see her brother again, nor say what she wanted to say to Hammer.

As her mind processed this, she felt the earth tremble beneath her, shaking her out of her small stupor. She looked up and her eyes widened seeing the beast was right in front of her. As his horns came straight at her, something gleamed out of the corner of her eye.

She looked to the left, and saw a axe flying towards it.

She watched as the axe struck into the neck of the yak. It roared in agony, forcing him to stumble to the side and sending its momentum into the ground.

Silverwing turned, meeting to see who threw the axe. She was surprised as Brutus rushed forward, his fangs bared and his eyes fixated on the yak. He ran past her without a second thought and quickly removed the axe from its foe. The yak, somehow still alive, attacked with its horns, but Brutus was able to parry every blow. Brutus barked and attacked, showing off incredible skill with his battle axe. With every deflected blow, the yak was slowing down, his body taxed to its furthest extent.

As this happened, she could see the sword still sticking outward. Silverwing, feeling the adrenaline still thriving within her, kicked the ground and took to the air. Seeing the opportunity, she spun in an aerial maneuver, heading for the sword and seizing it with her hooves. The blade came out with ease. Blood came from the wound and drew the yak’s attention.

“You will all die!” he yelled, spinning at her and giving out a roar that would be heard for miles. She spun in the air, turning her blade towards the howling beast. Aiming her blade, she doubled her speed and charged straight towards it. With a final flap in her wings, giving her the precious second of speed, she thrusted the blade deep into its chest.

The yak was like a wall as her body slammed against it, unmoved from her force. Yet she remained, pushing the blade until it reached whatever black heart it carried. As she pushed the blade to its furthest extent, the yak ceased its bellowing cry. A moment later, she saw its legs begin to buckle, and she swiftly withdrew her blade from its body. Blood followed from the wound, staining the snow around her. The yak then toppled to the side, the last of its breath escaping him.

Silverwing soon fell to the earth, her breath shaky and her mind buzzing with questions. One was what manner of creature did they face, how many more were out there, and why did Brutus come here. Although, she couldn’t complain about him. For what it's worth, she was alive because of him.

That is... until she heard a warcry from the Diamond Dog. She looked up and was spooked when she saw Brutus rush forward and slam his axe straight into the yak’s neck, making the same gash even deeper. He then let go and relentlessly kicked the dead corpse.

“Die, you rancid Bastard!” he screamed, kicking the lifeless body again and again in his vengeance. Silverwing could see the hate-filled rage within Brutus. It’s anger and rage is what saved her; if he hadn’t intervened, then the yak would surely would have impaled her upon its horns.

She had to be grateful for that.

“Brutus,” she called out as he gave one final kick to the corpse, his leg bloodied up from his exertion. Brutus looked to the sky, giving out a long out howl into the air. It was a long, pure note, and it was one of grief, but also solace. She could guess a number of things, she assumed it brought solace to his pack, just a small measure of peace in this forsaken war. As he finished his howl, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. Silverwing cleared her throat and wanted nothing more than to thank him for saving her life

“Brutus, you saved me. Thank you,” she said, taking steady breaths and trying to return her breathing to normal. Brutus remained where he was, unresponsive at first as he tried to get his bearings. He then looked at Silverwing, and she noticed that he had a long stare. He was looking towards her, but not at her, and she couldn’t tell what was on his mind. After a few uneasy moments, he turned and took his battle axe. A sickening crunch came as he removed it from the dead yak. He looked around, spotting the mound of bodies by the villagers. He then pulled out his beads and began to move them together in his paw, speaking just low enough for her to hear.

“Oh den mother, please give these souls peace as they return into their ancestors,” he said as he turned away to give his prayer.

Silverwing soon got up, her face feeling a twinge of pain as she staggered to get her surroundings. Strong Oak and the other Cervine were observing the dead yak, while Charger was getting up from his tussle earlier. Shadow Hunter was already next to the body of his scout, and from the look of things, it was not good.

Silverwing rubbed a hoof on her face and muzzle, feeling a numbing sensation all around her face. She seethed a little, not knowing the full extent of the damage. She removed her hoof and saw some blood from her muzzle. She placed it back again, making sure no more blood was coming from her nose.

“Captain.” She heard Charger nearby and she turned to see him moving towards her. “Are you alright?” he asked once he was at her side.

“My face is stinging like hell. How bad does it look?” she asked as she lowered her hoof. Charger examined her for a moment and gave a small smile.

“You don’t look worse for wear. You got a big bruise right there under your right cheek. Might also get a nice shiner once the swelling goes down, but you should be good after a few days,” he said as Silverwing nodded. Charger was always blunt, but he never dampened her spirits when he told it how it was.

She turned to face Shadow Hunter, who was already closing his scout’s eyes with his hoof. His ears were lowered with a bit of sadness. He stood and turned to her, speaking softly and with much sadness in his voice.

“He died on impact, though it was probably worse when he was impaled,” he said, looking back at his companion.

“I’m sorry, Shadow Hunter. He will receive a proper burial and will be noted for his service in arms,” she said, hoping to ease his concerns in any way. He looked at her with a small hopeful smile, but he shook his head.

“I thank you for the gesture, but with us being so far from civilization, and knowing what dangers lie ahead of us, it’d be best not to bury him here, and to burn the bodies,” he said, surprising her. She never once thought he would go to such lengths.

She was going to reply when he lifted a hoof to her, “I know what you're thinking. Drastic as it may be, it would rather be wise that our company not have to go through another half day’s work in burying bodies,” he said as he turned to observe the yak before him.

Silverwing was lost in thought, unsure of what to make of her companion's words. There could have been a number of things that could be said, anything that might have been used to deter his opinion. But the more she thought about it, the more she believed his advice was sound. He had more experience out here then she did, and had suffered much more hardship under the griffon’s rule.

She looked down at the yak, its body unmoving and blood forming around its body. There was also a pungent odor that surrounded it. She was still amazed at the number of arrows and cuts that the yak received. It was a fierce warrior, yet she could not imagine facing more of their kind at once. She then watched Strong Oak lean forward, observing with keen eyes the wounds around the neck and chest of the beast.

“Silverwing,” he said as he continued to examine the body. “You should go back to the main company and seek Swift Leaf to see to that wound,” he suggested, his gaze never once going to her. She nodded, knowing full well she felt like Tartarus and she would need time to recover.

“Also,” he added, “Keep watch over our ‘friend’. He may need company. And see if you can gather a wagon and some volunteers to gather the supplies here. We will need for the long road ahead.” He turned to his scout and the two began to discuss in their own language.

“I’d be damned for taking from the dead,” Shadow Hunter said with a tired expression. “But after what we faced today, if we are to survive, we have no choice. I’ll go and make the arrangements,” Shadow Hunter said as he headed off. Silverwing followed suit, leaving the Cervines to continue their study of the dead corpse, knowing they wanted to study the body for weaknesses. They would need all the information they can get.

She saw Brutus up ahead, the ‘friend’ that Strong Oak had kindly mentioned. He was still praying and moving the beads in his paw, the beads clacking together between each index of his fingers. As she moved away from the body, she noticed Charger had remained.

“Charger, we going back. Come along,” she said. Charger turned to her with a solemn expression. “Forgive me, Captain, but, with your permission, can I at least bury the filly?” he said, moving to the side to reveal the small child remaining on the ground. “It would be a disservice if we burned a darling like her,” he said, ready to commit to the task.

“You have my permission, Charger. Just be sure to help with the others when they arrive,” she said. Charger gave a knowing nod and scooped up the small child. Her heart ached to see such a innocent filly caught up in this war. She could only hope and pray that this conflict would end soon and no more innocence would be taken from it. As she left them to do their duties, she went up to Brutus, who had finished with his prayer.

“Brutus, let's head back,” she said as Brutus continued to beseech to whatever god he was speaking to.

“Den mother, thank thee for giving courage and strength to Brutus this day. Give thy blessing of peace during these trying times,” he said, finishing his prayer and lowering his axe.

Taking a breath, she headed out for her company. She was still shaken from the events and her mind was aflame with questions. She knew there were a number things that needed to take priority and what must be done. But what took current priority: she needed to prepare everypony for what lied ahead.

As she and Brutus headed out of the village, his words continued to echo in her mind. She didn’t know what to make of it, but for now, she can only take his remarks as a simple phrase.

You’re welcome.

***

Quicksilver stretched his sore muscles from the long laborious work. He and the thestrals brought large amount of lumber to the site, ready to help cut it up and build the foundation of this new building. He was grateful to get a few breaks, provided that Ebon was overlooking him and that Colonel Sharp Beak was not around to rough him up. At the end of it all and after bringing the rest of what they needed to bring, they called it the day and allowed everypony to rest. It was still late in the day, roughly an hour or so before he was supposed to be in his quarters, but he still had time to meet with Nightshade Moon. He had spent some time working with him and working alongside the other thestrals. They were hard workers, there was no doubt, but he also could see a sense of unity when they work together. As he observed, and as long as there was nothing interrupting what they do, they could accomplish anything that is set before them.

After he finished his meal for the night, he was looking forward to speaking with them.

As he made his way to their small encampment, he could see the regular gryphons patrolling about the grounds. Along the path he spotted a triage nearby, a few gryphons tending to the wounded. He could see others come in and out from time to time, bringing in fresh medical supplies or a fresh blanket for one of the patients. Occasionally, he would hear a plea for help or listen to a gryphon softly cry out for his family.They had it rough these past few days, and he could only imagine how much pain and horror they experienced days ago.

As he made his way past the medical wing of the encampment, he soon found himself close to where the thestrals were camped. He moved at a leisurely pace, making sure that he would not spook the other thestrals. Even though he had contact with Nightshade Moon, he was uncertain about the rest of them, so he had to be careful.

As he got closer, he spotted a few thestrals staring at him, their ears pointed back as he continued to walk forward. When he was close enough, he noticed that they didn’t back away or turn their gaze away from him. In a way, it was rather strange for them to do this, but now, as far as he could tell, they looked to have a more curious nature about them.

At least they're not running away, he thought as he continued to move in their encampment. As he drew towards their main camp fire, he could see a number of them already finishing their meat and going straight to their tents. The small families were huddled together, trying to stay warm around the fire. He could see the mothers next to their children, keeping them warm with the blankets they could provide, while others wrapped their wings around them for extra protection against the cold. He wished he could do something to help them, but wishing was all could do at this point.

As he neared the fire, the other Thestrals around the fire soon spotted him and kept their gaze on him. It still made him uneasy, feeling as if he was a prey among predators, but he was the one making them nervous. What also was unsettling was their slitted eyes. They looked more different from afar, but since he got in closer contact, he noticed how their eyes were more animal then equines. Or gryphons, for that matter. He tried to give a uneasy smile, yet the thestrals remained stalwart and kept their gaze upon him.

“Ah, Quicksilver. Come,” he heard Nightshade Moon’s voice nearby, speaking in the same Prench that he heard before. He saw him come forward, and he offered a seat next to him near the fire. Feeling that he was allowed to proceed, he moved to him. As he did this, he noticed that the stares and uneasy eyes that were on him had lessened, and the thestrals returned back to what they did before as if nothing happened.

It was strange experience for him to witness.

He made his way towards Nightshade and he sat down next to the thestral leader.

“Forgive my people. It’s not often that we find one we can trust,” he said, continuing to speak in Prench. Quicksilver cleared his throat and returned speaking Prench back to him.

“It is perfectly fine,” he replied. “Also, I don’t hold you at fault over what happened a few days ago,” he added.

Nightshade nodded. “I still feel ashamed that we were forced to beat you until you clinged to consciousness,” Nightshade said as he looked down in shame. “I just wish things didn’t turn out the way they did,” he said as Quicksilver nodded. He could only imagine if the situation was turned, if there was one of his kind and a bunch of prisoners that were all different from him. As he pondered for a moment, trying to think of anything that would start a good conversation, Nightshade stirred once more.

“So, what do you wish to know? We are free from unwanted ears,” he said as he gave a genuine smile. Quicksilver looked to him. He knew all along what he wanted to say.

“I have many things I wish to ask, but many that may be too tall to answer,” he said honestly. “However, if there is one thing I wish to ask, it is how you ended up here?”

Nightshade nodded to his question. “That is a tall tale. I hope you’re willing to learn a bit of history,” he said.

Quicksilver nodded. “Yes. I only heard of tales and rumors, but never the full truth,” he replied.

Nightshade gave a small smile. “Then you will be intrigued by what I have to say,” he said as he cleared his throat.

“Many years ago, back during the founding of Equestria, our people lived within the confines of the Everfree forest. My people had long been solitary in our environment, not once caring about the outside world. The world was cold and bitter, and the forest still had its abundance to give. Then, your people came to the land, the ones that you consider your founders. Chancellor Puddinghead of the Earth Tribe, Princess Platinum of the Unicorn Tribe, and Commander Hurricane of the Pegasus Tribe,” he explained.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. He never would imagine that the thestrals had known about the founders of Equestria, but to name each leader of the tribes is what really caught him off guard.

“How did you know of the founders’ names?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Nightshade nodded. “Osiris Dusk, the brother to King Solaris, may they find peace, was the one who helped teach us about your founders,” he explained. Quicksilver was amazed as he continued to listen to him, “Osiris was a very intelligent individual, and clever with his use of magic. He found us while exploring the deep forest of the Everfree and he had came to learn of us. Throughout this time, as we had observed you from afar, he always came to us and shared with us the ways and teaching of all of the tribes. Soon afterward, he offered to help give us a proper home from the dangers of the Everfree in exchange for helping him,” he said.

“Helping him with what?” he asked.

Nightshade cleared his throat and gave assuring smile. “Lets just say that there are a few gaps in your history when your nation was founded,” he said.

Quicksilver could only fathom as to what that meant. He knew about the thestrals helping them during the war, but there were no references as to what became of them soon after.

Nightshade continued on with his tale. “As for us, we were given a new home in a place only known as the Hollow Shade Forest. We’ve resided there ever since that time, and Osiris has been in regular contact with us since,” he explained, allowing the words to settle on Quicksilver’s mind. It was hard to imagine how the leader of Equestria would have a hoof in a civilization’s affairs, but he could only wonder as to what else the past leader had done.

Was he trying to make some sort of Alliance? he thought, wondering how the thestrals had some connection to their nation's founding. He had to leave that thought aside as a more pressing question came forward.

“So how is it that you came to be out here?” he asked, causing Nightshade’s composure to change. His ears fell back and he turned away as if ashamed. He knew that he was poking at a touchy subject, but he just had to know. After a moment of uneasy silence, Nightshade stirred and his words were soft spoken.

“We were bringing our people home,” he said.

Quicksilver turned his head in confusion.

Seeing this, Nightshade continued. “Years ago, before the Contact War had started, our people continued to thrive within the confines of the Hollow Shade. Yet, as we prospered, our people continued to grow and expand. We feared that as we continued to grow and expanded our hunting grounds, we might have to go outside the forest, and feared of being seen by the tribes. So we had decided amongst ourselves to send a thousand volunteers of our kind to seek a new home for their own. A colony, if you will.”

Quiksilver continued to listen attentively. The more Quicksilver learned, the more fascinating the thestrals became to him.

“As we sent them out to these lands, we learned that they had settled well, and were building a new home within the mountains of High Talon. However, it was only after the war began that we saw some difficulty. For years, we had runners going to and from the mountains to our home in Hollow Shade. We kept in regular contact, but we still feared that one day that they would be discovered. It was only a year ago when we lost contact with our brethren that we feared the worst. We’ve sent a hundred of our own, including myself, to see what has transpired. It was a arduous journey, but we were all determined to see it through.”

He paused, his ears lowering and he bore a saddened expression. This made Quicksilver worried about what he had to say, but still he had to ask him.

“What happened?” he asked, as Nightshade stirred once again.

“By the time we had found our people, the colonists rounded only to about a hundred and fifty souls,” he said.

Quicksilver stiffened and his eyes widened in shock.

“We sent a thousand of our people out to search for a new home, and less than a fourth have survived. What we found was the horrors of the land that they tried to claim as their own,” he said.

Quicksilver looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“These monstrous creatures, known as warbands by the gryphons,” he said.

There’s that word again, Quicksilver thought. The word warband was mentioned by the guards, and there was no doubt in his mind that this warband was the same ones Nightshade was describing. As he let the thoughts sink in, a tired sigh escaped from Nightshade.

“I’ve only seen them once, when we were with our own. As we had finished gathering the survivors and prepared to make the trip back, that was when they struck. They had numbered in the dozens, but even then they sounded in more than a hundred. The colonists that were there were startled and fled into every direction. I could hear them screaming that the devils were upon them. They charged at us, screaming a tongue that we did not understand, their horns glistening in the pale face of the moon. We scattered the moment they neared and took off after our people who fled into the mountains,” he said, his voice shuddering as he uttered the last line.

“Let me tell you, hearing their screams of war chilled me to the bone. It was as if a horde of beasts had charged through the Huntress’s door and laid waste to all that was sacred.”

The Huntress? Is she a religious figure? That is a question I’ll have to ask later, Quicksilver thought as he cleared his voice to speak.

“So was it soon after that you were captured?” he asked.

Nightshade shook his head.

“Not exactly. After we scattered from the attack, I sent my own troops to find our people. We needed to find them first above all else, and return them to their homeland. A dozen warriors, including myself, set out to find the stragglers while our initial force went to find the vast majority. We spent days searching for our people, hoping and praying that there were no further casualties. We ended up finding only a hooful of stragglers, and found ourselves lost in the unfamiliar terrain. It was only soon after that we were lost that the gryphons found us. We tried to resist, but ultimately we became their prisoners. We soon began the grueling march, traveling across the mountain pass and avoiding the sheer cliffs on our sides. What’s worse, the colonel was brutal in his display of power. He threatened to break our wings and push us off the cliff while our children watched. His mind is twisted, his wit an enigma. He is a black devil, whose only solace in this life is the pain and suffering of others.”

He paused, his body shivering at whatever dreadful thought that came into his mind. Quicksilver remained where he was, attentive but shaken at the prospect that Nightshade Moon had went through.

“We met another party, where more of my people were rounded up and soon after we ended up here. The rest, as you know, is history.”

Nightshade finished, and took a deep and tired sigh. Quicksilver could only imagine the amount of pain and hardship. He could not think of the weight that bears on his shoulders. There was more of his kind out there, and yet nothing could be done to save them. Quicksilver could only feel sympathy to him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must be painful not knowing what has become to the rest of your people,” Quicksilver said.

Nightshade cast his gaze to the fire, the embers burning a cherry red as he soon tossed another log into the blaze.

“Yes, it is. However, in my heart. I know they are alive and waiting for us to return,” he replied back, keeping his gaze on the fire.

Quicksilver noticed the burning reflection within his eyes. He may be beaten and bruised, but he was a fighter, willing to do anything for his people.

Quicksilver respected that kind of fortitude.

As the two settled, letting the words settle in the air, Nightshade stirred once again and gave a small smile.

“You have the look of who has experienced what we had endured. Would you mind sharing your story?” he asked, to which Quicksilver blinked in surprise.

“You want to hear my story?” Quicksilver asked.

“Yes, I’m certain that you have some fond memories with your family or friends. Maybe sharing can help cheer this mood in the air,” he said.

Quicksilver looked away. “I’m not sure. Most of my life, I’ve had much trouble and suffering, probably the same as you. My story would be miniscule compared to yours,” he said.

Nightshade gave a small chuckle. “Quicksilver, everything in life has a purpose. Your story maybe the same as thousands of other souls who have perished, not knowing what their full potential truly was.”

Quicksilver looked at him, wondering what he might say next. A moment later, Nightshade turned and smiled, revealing his fangs that he kept behind.

“Quicksilver, we believe that every soul has a purpose and that each one is gifted in affecting others, whether for ill or for good. You may not believe yourself worthy at a task, but even if you can’t find the path, the Huntress, as we believe, already has a plan for you, and you are always guided to the right course,” he said.

Quicksilver thought long and hard from this new revelation. He never would have thought of that different perspective, or how life would have turned out if he didn’t set his own course. He then recalled the time when Silverwing wanted to serve in this fight and to defend all they held dear. The thoughts warmed his heart, and he turned Nightshade with a content expression.

“Thank you, Nightshade. I never considered that,” he said.

Nightshade nodded in kind. “You are most welcome, Nuit Ami.(night friend),” he replied with a knowing gaze. Quicksilver nodded and he cleared his throat to speak and began his tale.

“Well, for starters, I grew up on a farm near the capital of Equestria, where my parents and my sister Silverwing lived. I can tell you this much, I loved being with them more then anything else growing up,” he said, fully appreciating the fact that he was not telling his story because he was sorrowful of what happened in his youth.

He was telling his story for how much joy he had with his family.

Author's Note

Here is the next chapter of the story. The monster now revealed turns out to be a yak. The creature now defeated and Silverwing has survived the encounter. As Quicksilver learns of the Thestrals, so to does he he apprecaite how life has been given.

What will happen next? Stay tuned to find out more.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think of the chapter. Comments are always appreciated. Art was made by the ever talented, TurnipBerry. The art from this guy is always breathtaking and I can't thank him enough for this.

The General's Advice

It was another hour or so before Quicksilver said goodnight with the Thestrals. Talking about his past, before the war at least, was something that he truly enjoyed. They were childish, and yet, the memories of his youth swelled his heart with warmth. The Thestrals were also enthralled by this, and a small number had gathered around to listen to him speak. They became less intimidated by him, and some had an intrigued look on their faces. He knew he was breaking ground, but perhaps it was a start in building trust and respect. After it was done, most of the Thestrals paid their respects and headed for their tents, and Quicksilver gave his thanks to them, and he hoped, they can spend more time together and share in their cultures. The Thestrals were a fascinating people, yet mysterious at the same time. He hoped that someday, if this war ever ended, he could one day visit their sacred home.

As he left he could overhear some of them speaking, but not with the Prench they had spoken with him. No doubt that they had their own language, and Prench was their medium to others. He did wonder why they chose that language compared to the common tongue. It was just another question added to a list of inquiries. He had to let those thoughts lie as he continued to make his way towards his tent, knowing that after today, he would need all the rest he could get.

“Hold, Quicksilver,” a deep, grating voice came from the side. He looked over to see General Quill, along with his escort of four guards in heavy armor following close behind. Quicksilver froze on the spot, until the old general was close to him.

“You can relax, you’re not in any trouble,” General Quill said.

Quicksilver eased up a little and spoke. “I’m really not?” he said, but accidentally spoke it in Prench. The general blinked for a moment, then gave out a deep chortle.

“I don’t know much Prench, but I could guess that you are not in any trouble,” the general said, giving another warm chuckle. Embarrassed, Quicksilver looked to the side and his ears fell back. He didn’t know exactly how long he had spoken Prench, but it just came out as a gut reaction. He looked back at the smiling general, yet he still had a lump of uncertainty in his throat. Seeing this, General Quill gave another small chuckle and strided over to him.

“Come, let us walk,” he said, as Quicksilver nodded and followed at his side. As they walked, Quicksilver took a quick note as to what the general was wearing. For starters, he was not wearing his armor, but was wearing the same deep purple and gold cloak. He was also wearing a medallion of some sorts which had a circle and oval shape to it. It was connected to a thin chain that hung around his neck, and it bore the gryphon claw symbol, same as the symbol he had on his armor. He didn’t know what significance it had, but he could only imagine that is was important to his family name. As they continued on their walk, General Quill was the first to speak up.

“So, Quiksilver, how do you fare?” he asked, his rumbling voice notable as he spoke. Quicksilver blinked in surprise and wondered if he was being sarcastic or sincere. Wanting to go with the latter, he went with that route.

“Well, today was hard, moving the heavy beams and mounds of lumber was tasking on my body. However, I managed it,” he replied as the general nodded.

“I see,” he said, looking forward for a moment, then turning to him.

“Did you see much of the landscape when you first arrived here? The mountains and its valleys can be very beautiful during its clearest days.”

Quicksilver shook his head. “Can’t say I have, I’m afraid. It was a raging storm when I was first brought here. My vision was blurred by the high winds and snow,” he replied.

The general grunted in understanding. “The High Talon Mountains are not just the boundaries of our borders. They are the most beautiful mountains in our empire. When the light hits the summits just right, the landscape turns into a purple majesty that cannot be described. It is a beautiful sight to behold.” He paused, reflecting off his memories of the past.

“They must be quite a spectacle,” Quicksilver said as General Quill nodded.

“Indeed. I myself have a cabin that is situated near a cliff base. During the summer, I would settle there to take my mind off things, and to view the valleys below & the ocean of green plains. Also, on the occasions when the winter is mild, you can see the serene snow cap peaks and the plains of white across the lands.”

“Really?” Quicksilver said in astonishment, before adding, “Well, I hope summer can bloody hurry up so I can view this natural wonder.”

General Quill guwaffed and he stopped in his tracks. Quicksilver could only watch as the old general was laughing in deep jubilation, smacking his claw on the ground in the process. He never thought he would witness a gryphon, or any gryphon for that matter, laugh in such a way. As the general was catching his breath, still wheezing out a few needed laugh, he noticed the other royal gryphons behind him. At first, he thought that he may have made them worry for their general.

Instead, he saw the opposite.

The guards were all smiling, almost to a point that they would join in, but they held themselves as their general recovered. They must have all had a deep connection with him that Quicksilver didn’t know about, or they had visited this cabin he’d mentioned. Quicksilver looked back and saw the old general look at him with a smile on his beak.

“If you could, but you would have to be a distinguished guest instead of a prisoner of war. On top of that, we would need to have peace with Equestria if this was ever to come to fruition,” he said, and Quicksilver replied with a small smirk.

“Well, I had to try and ask,” he said, earning another deep chuckle from the old bird.

In a way, as the general still snickered at his remark, Quicksilver felt comfortable around him. Before hoof, when he saw the general and having that deep rumbling and grating voice, always speaking in a calm yet commanding tone, it really unsettled him the first time they talked.

Now it felt more natural and like he was talking to an old friend. General Quill was the kind of pony, or gryphon in this case, to be with and to have a pleasant conversation. If it weren't for the First Contact War, if things had turned out differently, then they might have been talking in a military academy, and enjoying talking about their differences and cultures, or even the sights they have seen and witness.

If only things worked out that way, Quicksilver thought as the general looked back behind them to see the Thestrals, before returning to face him once again.

“It appears that you have been making friends with the thestrals?” the general said as Quicksilver nodded.

“Yes, we’re getting along quite well,” he replied, but making sure to keep his words about them to a minimum. He didn’t want to say anything that would betray their trust. General Quill nodded to him and turned to see them once again. Quicksilver followed his gaze back at the Thestrals and saw that they were with their families. The young children were nestled next to their parents, and the few elderly being taken to the tents to rest. Quicksilver gave a weak smile. Knowing they still had each other, despite the current situation they are in.

“Those Thestrals, they suffered much,” the general spoke, not casting his gaze back at him. “Yet, they are still connected to one another.” Quicksilver turned to him. The general’s eyes looked at him for a brief moment before averting back to the group. “These thestrals are close to their families. They are very protective, and yet at the same time gentle with their kin,” he said with his rumbling voice, looking amused at the sight.

“Well, they are prisoners, so you can’t help but let them be protective,” Quicksilver said as the general turned to him with a almost acknowledging expression.

“True. However, there is something else that is special about them,” General Quill said then adding, “would you like to know what it is?”

He beat me to it, Quicksilver thought as he shook his head to him.

“They are happy,” the general said. Quicksilver gave him a puzzled look, to which General Quill chuckled softly.

“I know what you're thinking, young one: that these thestrals are experiencing the worst moments of their lives. However, despite what is seen on the outside, they are more connected to each other on the inside,” he said as he turned his gaze back to the thestrals. “They care for their young, treating their old & infirm and share what little they have to their fellow kin. Right now, I can see that mother smiling while holding that foal close to her side,” he said.

Sure enough, Quicksilver could see the same mother was smiling and nuzzling into her little child. For a moment, he thought he could see the mother whispering a lullaby and rocking back and forth. The small foal then curled up close to her side.

It was a tender and heartwarming sight to see.

He then turned back to the General, and he was surprised to see that his smile had never wavered.

“You know,” General Quill continued, “the way they live such happy lives, and how they tend to their own, reminds me of how our own people live their lives,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Quicksilver replied.

“Well, for each gryphon, we are dedicated to our families and our traditions. The Nomad tribes may be many and have their own interests at heart, but they rely on each other to sustain themselves through the rough times. At times, they put aside their petty differences and come together for those who are in need. The Royal Tribes are highly respected, yet we too have our tender moments, and sacrifice our dignity and prestige when we help the poor or needy. The Arch gryphons at times may have differences and tend to be one sided, yet they excel with their families and their bond to their friends and companions. They would risk everything, even sacrificing their own lives and livelihoods if need be, to ensure that the ones they care for our protected and that they are blessed and have successful lives. That makes them truly the happiest gryphons you would ever see.”

General Quill paused for a breath, placing a claw around his medallion. Quicksilver noticed that he stroked the symbol on it and his smile faltered a little. After a moment passed, the general moved his right claw and away from his medallion and pointed it towards him.

“This is what makes the strengths of my people,” he said as he clenched his right claw then placed it over his chest and began to speak out what appeared to be a salute.

“The Strength of Heart, Strength of Body, and the Strength of Mind! Our differences set aside for the greater good! When United, We are One!”

The general said his slogan, giving off much bravado as he finished. At the same time, his bodyguards also placed a claw over their hearts and repeated the same words. Quicksilver looked really astonished by their sudden change in mood. After they finished, the general looked back to him, smiled and took a step towards him. He then raised his right claw and placed a single talon directly onto Quicksilver’s chest, right where his heart would be. Quicksilver looked down, then back up to the general as he continued give off that infectious smile.

“Strength of Heart, when one give up their own needs, possessions and desires for the sake of others,” he said.

Then he poked the talon again onto his chest.

“Strength of Body, when one is willing to humble themselves to help others in their most troubled times, and is willing to be there for their friends and loved ones, even when the latter may deem it unnecessary but surely needed,” he said.

Then he lifted his talon and placed it onto Quicksilver’s head.

“Strength of Mind, when one is willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of others, even if they are a stranger to one that you care and love,” he finished as he lifted his talon away from Quicksilver’s head.

The general closed his eyes and breathed out a deep sigh. “These are what makes us united, and these traits that have been with us since our founding makes us all brothers and sisters in our society. Take this to heart, Quicksilver: When we are united in a common cause, then there is nothing that we can do,” he said as Quicksilver felt taken aback. He never expected for him to say such deep and meaningful thoughts.

Yet, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him about how the gryphons came together. Several questions came to mind, notably how their tribes came together in the first place. However, despite the new layer of inquiries, he knew one thing for certain: General Falke Dugalle Quill was very wise and inspiring general.

“Thank you,” Quicksilver stammered, trying to regain his voice after listening to him speak. “Thank you for sharing that to me. It makes me have more appreciation for gryphons and your culture as a whole,” he said as General Quill gave another small chortle.

“You are most welcome,” he said as Quicksilver returned the smile to him. Before Quicksilver could ask anything more, the sound of wings was coming towards them.

“General Quill!” a voice came from above, interrupting their conversation. The gryphon swooped in, landing right in front of them and bringing along a gust of wind from his touchdown. The gryphon was a royal gryphon, and he held in his claw a wrapped parchment with a red seal in the middle. The gryphon caught his breath as he offered the letter to the general.

“A message... from the king,” he said, as Quicksilver watched as General Quill’s expression changed from a calm demeanor to a stern manner. Quicksilver was taken aback out how his expression had swiftly changed, and he watched as General Quill looked at the message then back to the messenger.

“He didn’t,” he said, his voice rumbling in anger. The messenger nodded as he seized the letter. He ripped the seal and unfurled the parchment, reading the contents within. Quicksilver took a step back, watching as the general scanned the letter, reading its contents at a quick pace.

Every second he spent reading, Quicksilver could see the general’s anger grow, looking more outraged with each line.

After an uneasy moment of silence, the general crunched the paper together into a tight ball and handed back to the messenger.

“Burn it, let no one else see this, and prepare the Razor Claw Brigade for departure. Bring Ebon. Do it as if your life depended on it!” he said as the messenger swiftly bowed and headed off into the camp, calling out to his warriors as the general was turning to leave. He paused for a moment to look back at Quiksilver. His anger had swelled from earlier; however, he gave a calm voice to him as he spoke.

“I’m sorry for cutting this conversation short. Farewell, Quicksilver,” he said as he quickly marched towards the camp, his escort following close behind. Quicksilver could only blink in utter dumbfoundment, only wondering what was in that letter that made him raise his ire. Thinking it best to retire for the night, and seeing that Warden was not around to be at his side, he headed for Gretchen’s tent.

As he made his way through the encampment. it was a flurry of activity. The royal Gryphons packed their tents, readied provisions and he could see several already ready to head out. Several nomads watched in bewilderment as the royal gryphons prepared themselves for departure. Quicksilver also spotted the minotaurs were all looking on as well, seeing the royal gryphons heading towards the cave entrance, lining up in a column and stood in a disciplined fashion. Quicksilver could only wonder as to what those bulls were thinking, but he let it slide as he continued on his way.

As neared closer to the edge of the encampment, he heard Ebon’s voice among the cluster of gryphons. Quicksilver turned and saw General Quill was with him, almost twenty meters away. Ebon was speaking quickly and was lost among the sea of voices, but General Quill ushered him closer and softly whispered to his ear. Quicksilver watched as Ebon’s look stunned from what his uncle had whispered and after hearing this, he immediately took off towards his own tent. As he did this, he heard General Quill’s voice call out among the throng of Gryphons.

“Razor Claw Brigade! We will depart in ten minutes,” he yelled out as he began ordering provisions to be moved and gathering his lieutenants. He watched for a moment longer before heading towards his tent.

That is, if he didn’t feel a sudden pull on his neck and a claw placed around his muzzle.

“Scream and your dead,” his assailant said as Quicksilver was forcibly dragged back behind the rows of tents. Panic coursed through his body, unsure as to what the gryphon was going to do him. He was dragged back, nearing the edge of the encampment and close to where his own tent would be. He looked about him and saw several nomad gryphons approaching him. They each have a look of malice in their eyes, looking rather pleased to see him alone with them. He then was suddenly pulled back and slammed against a stack of wood, wincing slightly as he made impact. He looked up at his assailant and beheld it to be Black Talon. He watched as the corpulent gryphon snickered. His belly, which was covered with grease and whatever he ate, jiggle about from his laughing. Quicksilver also noticed several pieces of meat sticking to the side of his beak and feathers, likely gorging himself and looking like a filthy pig.

“Oh, little pegasus...” His voice sounded joyful, despite the sneer he had on his face. “You have no idea how much pain you will be getting,” he said, almost chuckling to himself as he wiped a piece of meat from his feathers and stuffing his face, smacking each talon to remove the last pieces of flesh.

It was an absolutely disgusting display.

“Calm yourself, Black Talon. He’ll get his due.” a voice spoke amongst the small crowd as Quiksilver recognized the voice. He stared up, and watched as Black Talon took a step to the side as Sharp Beak stepped forward. The colonel looked down at him, observing him like a mad dog against a cornered rat.

“Hello again, Quicksilver. Miss me?” he said in a condescending way. Quicksilver looked about the area, trying to find any avenue of escape. But all the exits were blocked and he could imagine that he was going to get beaten once again. He stared back as Sharp Beak had closed the distance between them. He gave a wicked smile and revealing sharp teeth underneath.

“There is no doubt that you're in quite the predicament, equine. But here and now will be the least of your worries,” he said as he placed a claw around Quicksilver’s neck and pulled him closer. Quicksilver could see the lunacy that he bore in those eyes, the insanity of a maniacal gryphon. As he struggled in the colonel's grip, he watched as the mad gryphon gave another menacing chuckle.

“General Quill is being called out, and most likely Ebon Jaeger will be joining him on his expedition,” he said.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened. “What did you do?” he said, as he began to struggle for breath. Sharp Beak only laughed at his predicament and continued to speak out in hearty bravado.

“Oh, it is not what I did, but what my beloved king did,” he said.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened. Damnit, what is it that he knows then the general? Quicksilver thought as Sharp Beak gave a menacing glare to him.

“With this distraction, the fool Ebon and his incompetent Uncle will be preoccupied by this new offensive,” he said as Quicksilver’s eyes widened.

What does he mean by new offensive? he thought, his mind trying to process the connections. It was then that he realised the full truth.

They're going to reclaim Prancy as their own! he thought, imagining the dreaded images of a gryphon army marching upon the battered Equestrian army. But to march in the dead of winter was complete insanity. Unless they had favored weather, they wouldn’t be able to get there for at least a few days, maybe even more. Then if they reached the city it would no doubt be a siege, which would lead to much starvation and death on both sides.

“It looks like you're surprised about this revelation. Knowing you, you're probably worried about your friends. Don’t you worry none. When the city is recaptured, I’ll be sure to bring you to the city, where we can see your friends impaled on the walls.”

“You sick bastard!” he called out, only to receive a punch directly onto his face. He whirled to the side and tried to stare back at the colonel, only to receive another punch directly against the other side. He tasted a bit of blood in his mouth as he was forced to stare back this time. Sharp Beak was grinning from ear to ear and had a twisted look in his eye.

“With them gone, I will be charge of this post. Which means I can slowly break you down, until you're begging for mercy. You will suffer, equine, and you will fear me,” he said, pulling back another clenched claw back and ready to give another punishing blow.

“Stop!” a voice cried out from behind them. Sharp Beak turned, allowing Quicksilver a view of who the gryphon was.

“Felix?” Quicksilver said through choked breath, watching the black gryphon raising his claw towards them. He was wearing his attire from before, his brown belt and white robe that blended in with the snow. The Arch Gryphon stared at them with condemning eyes and grunted in disappointment of the gryphons before him. Some of the nomads took off among the tents while the remainder took nervous steps back and looked away as if ashamed.

Only Sharp Beak appear to remain unnerved.

“What do you want, you stupid priest. Can’t you see you're interrupting me?” Sharp Beak said.

Felix took a step forward. “I’m merely intervening on the equines behalf. Can you not see the innocent blood you are spilling? It is staining your already callous heart,” Felix said, taking another step forward towards the colonel. As he did so, the remaining nomads immediately vacated the area. After a few moments of crunching snow and flapping wings were silenced, only Felix, Black Talon, and Sharp Beak remained.

Whatever had them spooked, it was probably a blessing for Quicksilver.

“It is none of your concern, for I am guiltless. This Equestrian has been here for over a fortnight and his punishments against the empire have not been met. I’m simply rectifying this error and giving him proper punishment,” Sharp Beak said, his scheming tongue spilling out more lies to the priest.

Felix took a few more steps, casting his gaze to Quicksilver before returning it to his punisher. “I can see past your false fabrication, Sharp Beak,” Felix said, stopping at least six feet in front of them. “Your lies are feeble, and your soul cries in vengeance and hate. Deceitful, and jealousy. Those are the only things I hear from your venomous words,” Felix said, as Quicksilver gave a hidden smile.

He was not afraid to stand up to him.

“Maybe you should go back to your prayers, you lecturing priest. I would hate to see your brittle bones be broken by my claws,” Sharp Beak said, tightening his grip around Quicksilver’s neck. He choked as the extra pressure was laid bare, and he grasped the edge of his neck to try and pry the claw off, but to no avail.

“Your threats are but wind in the air, and you can lie to yourself and to your minions for the achievements you claim. You may attempt to shatter my body, crush it into the dust. But no matter what you do, you can never break my spirit. And the things you’ve done can never escape the sight of Saint Gregor,” Felix said, taking another step closer. As he did this, even the plump Black Talon took a nervous step back. In a way, it looked like something had seized his body and made him look weak before Felix.

“Try me, you senile fool. I have the power here, not some false deity that you claim to be god,” he said as Felix took another step and was face to face with him. His expression was stone cold and unmoved by Sharp Back’s words.

“I remember a gryphon who said that to me once before. I also clearly remember his body was buried by a mountain of rock and stone,” he said, his eyes seemingly glowing for a moment before them. Sharp Beak‘s eyes widened and for a moment, if only a few precious seconds, Quicksilver noticed a twinge of fear from his mortal soul, ready to be fractured by the Arch Gryphons power. As they remained like that for several moments longer, Felix then added, “You know, I wonder what your father might say of this? For it clearly seems that you can never be his equal, if you continue along this path,” Felix said, his eyes reverting back to their natural color, as Sharp Beak sneered in anger.

“I’ll show you!” he yelled and without warning punched Quicksilver directly into the gut. The unexpected blow knocked the last of the air out of him. Sharp Beak lets go of his neck and Quicksilver collapsed into a ball as he gasped for breath and clutched at his chest. He coughed violently and gulped in fresh air as he tried to compose himself. Quicksilver was able to look up and see that Sharp Beak was walking away with Black Talon in tow.

“Don’t think this over, Quicksilver. As long as they are gone, your nightmare will never end. I will break you!” he called out as his voice soon disappeared amongst the rest of the encampment. Quicksilver remained where he was, still stunned by his beating and having the wind knocked out of him. He heard the snow crunched next to him as he saw a claw offered to him. He looked up and saw Felix smiling down at him.

“You're safe now, Quicksilver. Let me help you,” he offered as Quicksilver nodded. He lifted a hoof up and placed on the Arch Gryphon's claw, and he felt his body lifted off the ground. After a few seconds of steadying himself, he found his left hoof over Felix’s shoulder, supporting him as he held his right hoof onto his chest, right where he felt the impact from Sharp Beak‘s fist. He felt sore and weary, and he leaned into Felix as he chuckled in response.

“Just lean on me, Quicksilver. I’ll help you carry on,” he said as he helped him back to his quarters. As he moved alongside the Arch Gryphon, his back legs awkwardly upright as he was moving, but it helped him with being supported and holding onto his chest, the stinging sensation still lingering on. As they continued walking, Quicksilver looked at Felix and saw his face was looking forward with a self satisfied expression. He probably imagined that Felix wanted to say that to Sharp Beak for a long time now. Thinking up something to respond, Quicksilver clear his throat and began to speak.

“Felix, I don’t know what to say about-”

“There is no need for thanks, Quicksilver,” Felix interrupted, keeping his gaze forward and with a smile stretching across his beak. “ The Nomads and the Royal gryphons may have their rules in caring for their own. However, I do not discriminate in helping every gryphon in need.” He paused, then turned to Quicksilver with a smile. “That includes equines too,” he said as he turned his gaze forward, humming a foreign tune.

Quicksilver was stunned by this. He knew the other day he had saved the lives of gryphons from the two different tribes. Yet here, in this moment, he was willing to be of help to him in his dire need.

A smile soon rose on his countenance, and it remained like that until he returned to his tent. When he arrived, he saw Gretchen waiting for them and she quickly asked what occurred. Felix allowed Quicksilver to head into the tent as he explained everything to her. Quicksilver didn’t mind; he was ready to sleep this day away and to save his strength.

He would need it for the ordeal that was to come.

***

Silverwing was exhausted after today’s events.

The flight to the destroyed village, facing off against the yak creature, and finally traveling several more miles in freezing cold winds. After all that was said and done, they had to pitch their tents once again in the cold evening. It didn’t snow, thankfully, but the wind still cut to the bone. As her mind wandered over the day's events, she looked out to the encampment that they made.

The travel was slowed as well by the extra provisions they brought from the village. A few of her guards helped carry them to one of the wagons, making several trips to the convoy and back. At the same time, Shadow Hunter had placed his fallen militia into the pile of bodies of the villagers and set them all to the flame. It was a hard decision to commit, yet he knew that it was necessary. The granary was stocked full of supplies, including barley and beans that would provide them for at least two more weeks of extra provisions. Combined with their own provisions, it added to the total supply of at least two months worth of supplies.

Though the extra food was promising for their survival, it did not, however, spur the morale of the troops.

Her guards, who have been to the village, had been utterly quiet. Some of her stalwart warriors were deeply troubled at the sight, and she worried that she may have to morale drop among her comrades. It was even worse for the militia. Shadow Hunter had to explain what they faced and what he did with the body. Some decried it as too much, and that his body should have been taken home to his family. Others were more accepting of their leader's words, but they too believed that he should been given a proper burial.

As she continued to watch her camp, she noticed Charger resting near one of the campfires. Charger, goddess bless his noble heart, was also silent during the trip. He buried the little filly near an oak tree, and was still for a time afterwards. She wondered if he had experienced this sort of thing before, or was contemplating to the world why the filly had to be taken at such a young age. She hoped that he would come around soon.

Finally, Strong Oak was sitting near one of the fires, surrounded by his own kin as he was conversing with them. Silverwing had left the village after the last supply was picked up, and she saw that he still remained near the Yak’s side. She had but a glance, but he was still observing, prodding and pressing against the dead husk for weakness. They had to wait a few extra hours until he and his scout finally returned to camp. Strong Oak had not disclosed anything to her or to Shadow Hunter of their findings. She watched them for a time near her tent, curiosity edging on her mind. It felt as if it was drilling into the back of skull, demanding her complete attention. Feeling that she waited long enough, she pulled her cloak close to her chest and headed towards them.

She did pause, however, when she heard a long howl coming nearby and she turned to see the Diamond Dog.

Brutus, whose back was turned to her, was sitting idly and staring out at the full moon. His howl was long and carried throughout the land. He had been at this for hours, howling once every thirty minutes or so before dipping his head low in prayer. He clacked his beads together and swayed back in forth in some ritual. Silverwing could only feel pity for him as the Diamond Dog continued to sway back in forth in prayer. He had only a small victory against the yak creature, but no doubt his dead people needed to find peace amongst the grim darkness of this land.

After staring long enough, she turned her attention back on the cervines, as Strong Oak appeared to have finished speaking with them. Making her way over, she soon stood next to him and cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Strong Oak, what have you found?” she asked, being straightforward with her question.

“I too, would like to know,” Shadow Hunter said as he approached them, taking his seat opposite of them.

Strong Oak looked at the two of them in turn before turning to his kin. He nodded to them and they all dispersed, heading to their tents to rest the night away. He sighed deeply as he addressed the both of them.

“I’m sorry for not going to you sooner. I had to confirm a few things with my healers and kin.” He paused, his gaze fixated upon the fire before them.

“Well, what did you discover?” Shadow Hunter asked.

Strong Oak continued to stare into the fire. “My scout and I examined the body of that damned monster. It’s hide was as thick as several sheets of plate armor and it’s muscles were thicker than any other creature we have seen.The body seemed to move when its head twisted and turned, making it dangerous and deadly if you are to get close. The horns are sharper and its cloven hooves could crush anypony underneath. However, what disturbed me more was something else,” he said, his eyes widening in some sick revelation.

“What is it?” Silverwing asked.

Strong Oak averted his eyes from the fire and looked right at her.

“Did you ever notice how our weapons could not pierce his skin so easily?” he said, making her look at him with a confused look. When she didn’t reply, he continued on.

“There was some kind of leather armor, right around the back and sides. You didn’t see it at first, but the extra fur around him was another layer of skin.” He paused, waiting for the words to sink in.

What does this have to do with the yak? What new layer of skin? she thought as Strong Oak continued.

“I’ve consulted with my healers and warriors about this, and we think that these yaks are a dark warrior culture. Meaning, the leather it wore was carrying on their bloodline or of their victims, quite literally,” he finished.

Silverwing grimaced in revulsion. They wear the leather of their dead kin?! she thought. The sickening idea twisted into a new layer of imagery that made her sick to her stomach. Shadow Hunter, out of the corner of her eye, was shaking his head in apparent disgust.

“Morbid. That is the only word I can think of those barbaric monsters,” Shadow Hunter said, as Silverwing turned to face Strong Oak directly.

“Strong Oak, what of their weakness? Did you find anything that can be proven useful should we face them again?” she asked.

Strong Oak nodded his head, if ever so slightly. “We have. The bodies are large, and the tough hide is what makes them durable. However, that does not cover their vital areas,” he said, pointing to his eye. “The larger eyes makes them see far, but a direct shot from an arrow can be most useful to incapacitate it. We also found that at the back of its head is much more softer between the skull and neck. A direct blow on the back of its head would likely kill it instantly, or possibly stun them until it receives more blows. It’s also wise to cut at its neck, in order to quickly bleed the beasts.

“Finally, and most importantly, are its legs. The legs are strong, but they are also its major weakness. Think of it as thick plate of armor, Silverwing. Cut off its mobility, it will be powerless to our advance,” he said as Silverwing took in the information.

She had seen many knights clad in thick armor before, but even they needed mobility. The neck would need to twist and turn in order to go in one direction. The pits of the legs for better mobility of the upper limbs, and the groin region in order to be fast on your hooves.

This was very crucial in the event they ended up facing more of these things.

“We had to leave the body there, and I wish we had more time to study the cadaver. But we managed to get what we could,” Strong Oak said.

“You managed what you could do, Strong Oak. Nothing could be said more than that.” Silverwing spoke, although a little hesitantly.

Strong Oak took a stand, stretching his muscles out before heading off. “I suggest you take rest, my friends. We will all need strength as we press onward,” he said, leaving the two to their works.

Silverwing closed her eyes and continued to imagine the scenarios, thinking up various ways to kill or incapacitate one or two of the yaks before they could get her. She let her thoughts wander for a moment when she heard Shadow Hunter clear his throat. Stirred from her thoughts, she turned to her companion as he looked about the camp.

“We are far from the safety of our homes, and winter is slowly getting stronger. I can feel it in my bones,” he said.

“We’ll have to soldier on with our duties, Shadow Hunter,” Silverwing interjected. “No doubt the enemy will be dangerous if we’re not prepared,” she said.

Shadow Hunter turned to her, bearing a neutral expression. “Silverwing, you forget that you must also bear responsibility for this company,” he said as he stood up from his position. Silverwing raised an eyebrow at him.

“I know my duty. I don’t need to be reminded of the lives that I have to care for,” she said, almost sounding cynical in that remark but not noticing it.

Shadow Hunter shook his head his head at her, looking almost disappointed by her reply. “That is not what I mean, Captain Silverwing. You have your duty to your soldiers and to those who serve under you. But even as you care about the livelihood of others, you neglect your own,” he said.

Silverwing stood up to him, “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, Shadow Hunter. I don’t need to be lectured on how to handle my own life,” she said, her voice raising high enough for just for a few other equines nearby to look at them. She didn’t mind; she needed to vent after what they been through today. “Another thing, my own health is not a concern. Getting my brother back from the enemy is all what drives me, and I will not be deterred by it,” she said.

Shadow Hunter blinked at her, only to shake his head as if in disappointment. “Then what? Will your life be better after this? Will saving your brother and ending the war finally bring you peace? What will you do after all this is said and done, when you can’t even heal a broken heart?” he asked.

“I don’t want to hear anymore of this,” she replied, feeling more irritated by the moment. She didn’t want to listen to him anymore and decided to head back to her tent, only to be stopped by a hoof on her shoulder. She whirled around and Shadow Hunter was right in front of her.

“You still have time to think this over, Silverwing,” he said, ignoring the status of her rank. “You may be young, but you do not know the meaning of life if you don’t care for yourself.”

“What makes you think that I do not care for my well being!? Explain to me, Shadow Hunter, or you are dismissed!” she snapped, her wings shooting out as her temper flared. She didn’t know where this anger came from, but she didn't care; her only focus was on him. At first, Shadow Hunter said nothing, staring at her as stone cold as ice. Then in a calm breath, he spoke once again.

“Before the war, I was a Teacher,” he said, calm and straightforward. Silverwing blinked in surprise, unsure as to why the change of subject. Yet she still listened, despite being irked by his questioning earlier.

“I was a history Teacher in a little town called Green Snow, just outside of the city of Prancy. In Prancy, I taught at the Lafayette School of the Arts and Histories, and tutored many young students about our earliest ancestors and historical events.” He paused, letting his works sink in.

Silverwing lowered her wings until they were at her side. Her demeanor had slowly went from anger to one of slight annoyance, though she seemed more curious as he spoke. She had not known what he had done in the past, and she remained silent as he continued on.

“You would think that whenever a pony hears that, they would think it's quite a feat to become that. However, out here, among the battlefield and the dead around me… well, nopony would seem to care about any of that.” He paused, looking off to the side, yet still keeping his calm tone. “Over the years, being in this war, time seems to have passed in the blink of an eye. War changes a pony, in more ways than one, Silverwing. I wonder if I’ve changed so much that I won’t be remembered the same when I get back. I don’t know if my wife will even recognize me, or if my son that I’ve never met will ever wonder if I was his real father.” He paused for moment for a breath before continuing. “I don’t know much about Quicksilver. In fact, I don’t care. What I do know about him is that he helped us when we needed it most in Prancy, and that is a debt that we can never forget.”

Shadow Hunter then turned to her, with a determined look in his eye.

“If helping save your brother means I can return to my family, then that is good enough for me,” he said, while taking a step closer to her. Silverwing’s temper was simmered like that of a flowing river, and her mind transfixed by the older stallions words. She had never had thought of what his life has been, going through the entire war without being with his family.

It made her mind shudder at the dreaded thought.

“Just know this: Everyday that I’m out here fighting this war, the farther away I feel from home.” He then lifted a hoof up and placed it on her shoulder. “You are the heart of this company, Silverwing. If you falter, then the rest will lose heart. Please consider that before you take you next course of action.” He lifted his hoof off and gave a small bow to her, before turning and disappearing off towards the tents.

A moment of silence rested on Silverwing, her mind trying to process the whole conversation. The more her mind lingered on the matter, the more guilty she felt how she reacted to him. She knew she would have to apologize for her choice words, but it would have to wait until dawn.

As she pulled her cloak closer to her, she noticed the eyes of several guards watching her, watching the whole transaction. Ignoring them, she headed towards her tent, wanting nothing more than a good night's rest.

As she went, she heard another howl from Brutus. She turned to see him giving his long cry into the night sky, his ears folded back and his song of sorrow reaching towards the moon above. She left him to his own devices and headed for her tent.

Once reaching the entrance, she pulled back the flap and saw Hammer resting on his bed roll, covered in a thick blanket. He had to stay with her for the time being, to be given a close watch if case his wound persisted. Her bedroll laid open next to him and was ready to help her sleep this night. Yet her mind was focused on other things; namely, Hammer. She didn’t forget that she lashed out this morning at her companion and friend. Guilt had resided in her, a black stain on her conscious for doing that to him.

He, along with Shadow Hunter, both needed to be given a full apology.

I guess I will have to apologize to you as well when I get the chance. she thought as she took a step inside.

The moment she did, however, she heard Brutus’s howl was joined by another long howl in the distance. She paused, not knowing if it was just her imagination or just some wild dog out in the frozen plains. Silverwing turned her head back to see Brutus had lifted his ears in the direction of the noise. Yet from her angle that she was observing, he thought she saw a smile on the Diamond Dog’s face. His smile remained as he gave out another long howl and joined his howl with the foreign one.

Deciding not to pry into it, and the exhaustion of the day taking its toll, she went inside her tent and quickly went into her bed. As she finally settled in, her mind wandered to Hammer at her side. Her heart felt like it skip a beat as he was near him. She didn't know why it was happening now, but it could be that having him by her side was comforting. She shook her head at the thought and soon rested her eyes.

Sleep would soon overcome her, and the day's events would be lost in her waking dreams.

Author's Note

Sorry everyone for not updating with the story. Was busy the past few months with school and work. Keeping me busy in life and what not. I hope to get more chapters in soon so stay tuned for that.

Guest artist for this chapter belongs to the ever talented Margony.

She is super talented and I really appreciate the work she had made.

Nightmares and Giants

Silverwing tossed and turned that night. No matter how much she tried to resist it, the dream that plagued her would not relent.

Silverwing was in the middle of a field, her small force prepared for an oncoming attack. She could hear the battle horns of the enemy, blazing across the land and deafening everything else. She could see a massive host, the same monstrous creatures that she had fought. They chanted and cursed, their horns and crude weapons bashing and clanging about. She could feel fear gripping at her heart, yet she was determined to see this through. Her forces were all prepared, but they were less than half of what she had hoped for. She could see that others had either fled for their lives or died from hunger and cold. She did not find any of her Cervine allies, nor did she see Brutus amongst them, thinking surely he would be fighting at the forefront.

A loud horn blasted once again, making her focus on what was in front of her. Her eyes widened as the horde of Yaks stampeded straight towards them.

“Hold!” she called out, trying to keep her soldiers morale up. But it was in vain, for they were petrified by the mass of bodies, charging towards their doom upon them. Silverwing tried to do what she could to rally them up, but no matter how many times she called out to them, they would not heed her words.

Silverwing readied her weapon, ready to face the enemy.

However, they were already upon them.

Darkness flew past her, threatening to sweep her up off her hooves. She held her ground, yet she could still feel the yelling and screaming as the yaks ran straight through her ranks, almost ignoring her altogether. After what felt like a full hour of charging, the yaks dispersed, and she found herself alone among the battlefield. She looked about her and saw her company had been killed off. Bodies of her fallen brethren were scattered, and some bore the same graffiti-like runes cut deep into their bodies.

“You like my work?” A deep voice vibrated around her, feeling as if an ancient evil was brought down upon her. Silverwing looked around the area trying to find the voice, but all she saw was the mist around her.

“Show yourself!” she demanded, raising her blade to the unknown being. The mist slowly dispersed around her, as a hot air swarmed around her from the northeast. She turned in its direction, seeing a large figure standing on a hill. It was silhouetted by the sun behind it, and she could easily see the large horns with thick piercings on each side. A thick beard came down its front, and shadow seemed to emanate off of it. As the beast stood there, it gave a low laughter, almost mocking her predicament. It soon began moving closer, heading straight towards her. She went to fly upwards, but found that she could not move. She looked down and saw dozens of hooves, grabbing at her and holding her in place. She struggled as her fallen comrades clung onto her, demanding and seething as to why they were set out here.

“It appears you have not witnessed my full potential,” the deep voice said, now standing right in front of her. She looked up and saw the beast, looking eerily similar to the one she had killed at the village. Yet its scars and wounds remained, revealing its deep cuts and gored wounds. She also saw that it’s head hung lower than normal, and half its neck was sliced clean through.

It was a walking corpse.

“Here, see this to ease your mind,” it said as he turned to his side, blood pouring out of its body and onto the snowy floor below. Once he stopped, he showed off a thick pelt. However, she noticed that it wasn't the same brown fur coat that it wore before. Instead, it showed a blue coat instead. It was similar to her own coat, and the more she stared at it, the more familiar it became. Her eyes traced along the cyan coloring, its fur growing larger and larger as she focused on it. It was then that her eyes laid at what was the rear of the coat.

“Brother?” she said in sheer horror and bewilderment as she laid eyes on his cutie mark, a sword pointing upward and wings going out on each side. She went from shocked to mortified, seeing her brother skinned alive and used as a pelt for this monster. The yak saw this, and a grin stretched across its face as blood poured out of its rotten teeth.

“See someone you love? You can join him...” the yak said, moving towards her with a large butcher blade in one hoof. Silverwing flailed about, trying to get herself to move, but the weight of her fallen comrades held her down as they continued to call out her name. She opened her wings to take flight, only to find that she couldn’t. She looked at her wings and found they were gone, and all that remained were two bloody stumps. Desperation kicked in, and she called out to anypony that would help her, even as the yak drew ever closer.

“Somepony, please! Help me!” she called out, screaming until her lungs could no longer give any breath. The yak was now over her and appeared all the more larger than ever before. He lowered his hooves and placed the butcher knife next to her neck.

It was then that she faced true terror, and she screamed once again into the darkness.

***

“Silverwing, wake up!”

Silverwing heard a voice nearby as she almost screamed out, though it was more like a whimper.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t bucking touch me!” she seethed, pushing her hooves outward and feeling though as she was still in a dream. She felt hooves clasp onto her front legs, and she scrambled back to get away. Yet the hooves persisted, and they clasped onto her shoulders. She backed away as far as she could, until she felt the cold tent next to her.

“Silverwing! It’s me, it’s me.” She heard Hammer’s voice as she felt hooves cup her cheeks. She fluttered her eyes to see Hammer staring at her, concern etched into his face. She looked about the room, breathing heavily and searching for anything wrong. Yet every time she looked around, she was guided back by Hammer and forced to look at him.

“It’s me,” he said again, softer this time. Silverwing kept looking into his blue eyes, seeing that it was him and not a dream. Her breathing lessened and her heartbeat slowed down as she focused on him. She felt a cold sweat all over her body, and she couldn’t stop shaking. She swallowed a lump in her throat and continued to breath heavy breaths, calming her nerves as she was comforted by his voice.

“Hammer, I… is that you?” she asked, almost scared to confirm if this was real or not. Hammer nodded his head, but looked at confused by her question.

“It is me, Silverwing. You were thrashing about in your bedroll, and I had to wake you up,” he said.

Silverwing was surprised. She never thought she’d ever have such a nightmare that she would not be able to get out of.

“I thought if you screamed any louder, you might of alerted the whole camp. Are you alright?” he added.

Her senses came back to her as she nodded to him. “Yes, I am alright.” She looked down at his hooves, then back to him. “You can let go of me now,” she said in a calm voice with her cheeks still in his hooves.

He blushed and quickly put his hooves to his side. “Sorry, I didn’t know where to grab you at first. I needed to get your attention, so getting you to focus on me was the thing I worked with,” he said as she settled herself down.

“Thank you for that, Hammer,” she said. She took a deep breath and sighed, although her body still shivered. She never would have imagined how that dream would give her such a fright. She thought it was almost certainly real.

An awkward silence permeated between them, both looking uncertain as to how to proceed. After an uneasy pause, Silverwing was the first to speak.

“Do you know what time it is? Has dawn come up yet?” she asked, hoping to start up some conversation.

“I’m not sure exactly, but if I had to guess, it might be close to six in the morning. Maybe a little later,” he said.

Silverwing shook her head. It was late when I went to bed, so I only had four to five hours of sleep, she thought, wondering as to how this might complicate things. If she was too tired to act, how would she be able to lead her men when the time came? As her mind wandered over the possibilities, she heard Hammer clear his throat.

“Silverwing, don’t take this to be rude, but I was curious: Where did you get that scar?” he asked as he pointed a hoof at her wound. She looked down and saw the scar. It was small, roughly six inches in length, on her right side. She could still seem to see the faded stitching that was there, yet the scar was barely visible. She never would see it, due to her cloak covering it; half the time, she would never even think it was there. Yet when he mentioned it, a distant memory clung to her heart and her ears flattened on her head. Hammer took notice of this and raised his hooves in defense.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to bring up an old wound,” Hammer said, trying to ease her. Yet she shook her head and gave him a understanding look.

“It is alright, Hammer. I’ve had this old scar for a long time. You have a right to know,” she said. She adjusted herself and cleared her throat. As she moved, she felt an audible pop in her neck and back, probably due from the cold. Once ready, she looked back at the scar on her side.

“I got it when I was twelve years old. Quicksilver was just turning eleven. We were still orphans, living about our lives and trying to survive this war. Back then, things were still hectic. Food was a luxury that nopony could get. As the war grew closer to home and refugees kept coming into the city, the city had to ration out the food, and everypony suffered because of it. When Quicksilver turned eleven, we got some relief at the orphanage. The head of the orphanage had earned enough to take us to one of the food storage, where the royal guard were only ones giving out the rations and essentials. Once we arrived there, both of us were excited and hoped for our first hot meal in a long time. But we weren't the only ones who wanted the food as well.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Hammer listened intently, his gaze not leaving her.

“As we waited in line, hoping to get the taste of some of the freshest goods, a riot broke out in the middle of the food storage. A number of ponies had claimed that the guards were holding food back for themselves, to which the guards quickly denied. Some heated words were said, and soon the mob of equines swelled and a fight broke out in the midst of them. My brother and I were ushered to the side of the room, and we could watch as ponies go after each other. I just could not believe the sight of them, watching them go after one another, all for the want of food.”

She sighed as she looked away, remembering the chilly reminder of what happened on that day, “The guards soon arrived in droves, breaking up the rioters and quickly getting things in order. However, they didn’t get them all.

“A large equine, can’t really remember who, was approaching us and he had quickly seized a knife and grabbed my brother.” She shuddered at the thought as Hammer continued to listen.

“You don’t have to continue on. I can get what happened next,” he said, trying his best to reassure her and not to bring up painful memories.

“No. Once I get going, I have to see it to the end. That is what I always say to myself,” she said as she cleared her throat again. “As soon as Quicksilver was seized, he immediately placed the blade near his throat and threatened the guards that if he didn’t get the food, then he would kill him. I was begging and pleading with him to release him, yet he would not listen to me nor to the guards that surrounded him. I then became desperate and lunged myself at him. I was foolish and paid the price.”

She fell silent, and she looked away.

“Silverwing, I know this pains you, but if you must go on, then by all means. I’m here for you,” Hammer said.

She nodded to him. Taking a shaky breath and with her body quivering, she continued.

“I went to grab Quicksilver, but the equine turned his knife and stabbed it into my side. I fell back as if I was struck by a set of hooves. I fell on my rear, and I looked to see the knife in my right side. I could hear my caretaker’s scream and my brother was pleading to spare me. The desperate equine did not listen, instead he was begging to have a taste of the meal that was to come. I could only look on as the pain in my side grew.”

She paused, placing a hoof over her right side, remembering the pain that had remained. “The guards around us were calling out, and some wanted to rush in and save us. But the deluded Equine had his hooves around Quicksilver’s neck, and I could only watch as he was choking the very life out of him. When I saw my brother struggle in his grip, something just...snapped in me.”

Hammer looked at her with a uncertainty when she spoke, yet remained silent as she continued

“I grabbed the knife in my side, and with all the strength I could muster, I pulled it out of me. The pain was immense and the blood was everywhere, but I didn’t seem to care. With the knife in my hoof, I aimed it directly at the equine. I let a out a scream of hate as I rushed at him and stabbed him in the neck. We both fell to the ground, and the expression on his face changed so quickly. He was now begging for his life. I don’t remember how many times I stabbed him in the face until the guards had lifted me off of him. After I was removed, I passed out from loss of blood.”

Hammer was deathly quiet, his eyes widened in surprise and shock. She didn’t know if he became more nervous or if he was thinking about what had happened, but even still, he was the first she ever told of this. He looked away for a moment, likely in deep thought. Then, as if a spell has been removed from him, he quickly look back to her with a concerned expression.

“What happened after that?” he asked slowly.

“I was out for a whole week after the incident. The apothecaries say I was lucky to be alive, despite the knife nearly going all the way to the hilt.”

“And what of the rioter? What became of him?”

“Dead. He was gone after he succumbed to the knife wounds,” she said with little to no remorse in her voice. Hammer took notice of this and his ears flattened against his head. Silverwing, noticing his discomfort, took a steady breath to finish her tale.

“The guards who witnessed this claimed it was in self defense. Since I was too young to be prosecuted for murder, they instead decided to put a guard on us for at least six months to a year, to keep watch on me and my brother. During that time, I talked to them and grew up listening to their stories. Their talk of the war, their victories, how they saved lives and denied the gryphons from gaining any foothold in our lands. As soon as the probation ended and the guards no longer watching over us, I confronted my brother and said to him that we no longer needed to worry. We no longer would have to rely on others to help us out of our own misery. Instead of being dependent on others, we should help others and help others to do the same. That helping the families that have suffered in this war can be helped, and that they can one day care for themselves without the need of others. That is what got me to where I am today,” she said, while Hammer took in her tale.

He was silent again, and he looked off to the side as if in deep thought. He didn’t have the questioning look from earlier, yet she knew she told him the full truth, nothing more. For a moment he said nothing, but he then stirred and grabbed the cloak nearby and gave it to her.

“Probably best you keep it on… ah, you know, from the cold,” he said.

Silverwing gave a lighthearted chuckle. “I give you my life story, and you're worried about the winter outside?” she asked.

Hammer shook his head and gave a smile. “No, it’s not like that at all. Just making sure you’re okay, that’s all. But still,” he said, his expression changing and looked a little unsettled. “It does beg the question. Did you regret what you did?” he asked.

Silverwing shook her head ever so slightly. “I don’t really know myself. He threatened to kill the only family I had left in this world. If Quicksilver died and-” Silverwing caught her breath, not sure if she wanted to utter the next words. “...If my brother died, I wouldn’t know what I would do. Although you are right about killing him. The stallion was starving, wanting food just like the rest of us. Yet the first death that comes from your hooves, it never gets easy, especially when it's your own kind,” she said.

Hammer adjusted himself. “C’mon, Silverwing. You know when you make the right decisions. You saved your brother and that’s all that mattered. I’m certain that whatever outcome, you always manage to find a way,” he said.

She shook her head. “Make right decisions, make wrong decisions. Most of it is based on luck. Seems your luck can never run out,” she said as she grabbed the cloak to put it on.

“I won’t,” Hammer replied.

Silverwing paused as he uttered it. She gave a look to him, her eyebrows raised. He looked to the side as if embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, ah, Captain. I didn’t mean to sound like-” he began to say until she raised her wing at him.

“Silverwing is just fine, Hammer,” she said as she finished putting the cloak on her. Hammer nodded, feeling a bit reassured.

She then did something that he did not expect.

https://www.deviantart.com/dragonfoxgirl/art/The-Scare-Is-Over-Commission-714150071

Silverwing stood up and went over to him and gave a warm embrace both of her hooves wrapped around him. He blinked in disbelief, wondering what he did to cause this, but one thing was certain that he was not pushing back. A smile appeared on his muzzle and he instinctively place his left arm around her body, returning the gesture in kind. They lasted like this for at least a minute, all the while not letting go of one another. After another brief moment Silverwing withdrew herself and made she was composed.

“Well since I’m up, might as well make the rounds. Might have to leave soon when its first light,” she said as she went up towards the entrance.

“You do that. I’m going to get more shut eye,” Hammer said, rearranging his bedroll and wrapping his blanket as tightly as possible. Silverwing only chuckled as she went outside, but still had the long feeling in her heart of sharing her special moment with Hammer.

For all it’s worth, she needed somepony like him in her life.

The cold air was the first thing she felt as she exited the warmth of her tent. She quickly shut it behind her and observed her surroundings. The camp was quiet, only a sentry or two keeping watch, standing next to the warmth of the camp fires so that the winter's night may not claim them. She looked out to the eastern horizon and saw a faint light in its distance. No doubt dawn was swiftly approaching, and she would need to get the camp ready for when it was ready.

As she kept her gaze on the eastern sky, a smell began to whiff in her direction. She sniffed a few times, wondering where it was coming from. It was too early for the cooks to be making breakfast already, yet it was already fresh. She followed the smell, which lead to just outside the camp. When she rounded a tent, she saw the hunched form of Brutus, and a fire pit was made in front of him. She moved closer, and saw the dead husk of a rabbit on the spit. She noticed that he was placing seasonings on the rabbit, making the smell familiar from what she smelled before when she first saw him eat. She knew it was animalistic and hard to accept for an animal being eaten by another.

Yet, she just had to get used to it.

When she was close enough, she noticed Brutus’s ears turn in her direction and he turned toward her.

“Pegasus comes to see me?” he asked as Silverwing stood her ground.

“Yes, though I’m still not taking your offer in ending your life,” she said.

Brutus nodded to her, turning back to his own food. “That is good. Brutus no longer seek own death,” he said.

She blinked in surprise. Normally, his conversations would be that he would ask for his life to end. For him to deny it now is made her all the more curious.

“Was it because of the fight from yesterday?” she asked.

“Yes and no,” Brutus said as he took the rabbit and tested the meat by touching it with the end of it’s paws. “Brutus found a taste of vengeance. Yet Brutus now see as well,” he said as he placed the rabbit back onto its spit and let the warmth do it’s work.

“What do you mean?” Silverwing asked, approaching closer to his side. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, or it might be that she didn’t want to have her mind linger on her nightfright from earlier. Either way, she wished to know more about what Brutus had to say.

“When you and company left, I followed tracks. You lead to equine village, seen the death of those ponies. Diamond Dogs don’t go above ground much yet.” He paused as he grabbed his beads and began rubbing them together in his paw. “Yet Brutus realize that equines and dogs are same,” he said.

Silverwing listened to him, clearly wanting to understand more.

“Brutus’s kind is not trusted, and rightfully so. Diamond Dog befriend gryphon, yet gryphon did little to help. Dogs suffer from heartache and strife, clans scattered, packs missing, and families lost. Brutus thought that Brutus lost everything. Lost kin, lost pack. Scared, uncertainty, anguish. They filled my heart. When equine came, they lifted my tattered body and whose soul longed for peace. It was you who have made Brutus’s eyes open and ears sharp,” he said, while Silverwing remained intrigued by it all.

“You care for me when Brutus sought death. You raise Brutus up when all was down. Even when the world was against Brutus, you did not leave side. Brutus watch as you struggle, try to reclaim family, to be reunited. When Brutus watched at village, see you fight cloven one, you are same with Diamond Dog as we both have common enemy. That is why, when you left, that Brutus wished nothing more than to help equine not have same fate. Brutus fought as never fought before. It was a sweet taste, to fight back against cloven one,” he said. He turned back and stared at her straight in the eye.

Her eyes widened slightly, staring into his mysterious eyes. Before, she saw fear and anxiety when she first saw him. Now it seemed more calm and relaxed, like everything was alright with the world that he was in. In a way, it reminded her of a normal dog would act around others.

“Brutus help you as Brutus is able. Help Pegasus friend,” he said.

Silverwing couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I’m glad that you are wanting to help, Brutus. We’ll take any assistance while we are out in the wilderness,” she said.

Brutus nodded in approval. He went to speak again, but stopped when his ears turned to the south. He followed the direction and he was on alert, searching for something. Silverwing looked in his direction and wondered what he could be staring at.

“What is it?” she asked as Brutus remained silent. He took a sniff in the air and raised his head. He took another whiff in the air and he looked forward.

“There's familiar smell. Of the deer folk,” he said.

Silverwing looked at him curiously. “They’re cervines, mind you,” she said. He didn’t seem to pay attention. She looked out with him and didn’t see anyone, at least not this early in the morning. “Could be a scout that Strong Oak sent out. I’ve made certain that he scouts our paths ahead,” she said.

Brutus took another sniff of the air. “If that be true, why do Brutus smell more?” he said.
Silverwing’s eyes widened, and sure enough, as the sun rose from the eastern sky, a small host was coming their way. She saw the red and green banners of Cervine marching in column formation and heading straight to their camp.

A high-pitched horn blast echoed throughout the land, alerting everypony in the camp.

It wasn't long until the vast majority of her company was standing alongside her and the column of Cervine continued to march with them. She counted at least thirty of them maybe more, all marching in step, never missing a beat. The way they moved, the way their banners moved in the air, it was as if they were parting the cold wind around them. As she watched the spectacle before her, she noticed that Strong Oak had sidled up to her, a proud smile on his face.

“What does this mean?” she asked him.

The cervine proudly raised his head high. “That hope is coming.”

***

Six days. Six brutal days of hard labor. It was enough to drive a pony insane. However, despite the wear and tear on his body, Quicksilver managed to endure.

Ever since General Quill and his Razor Claw Brigade left for their important task, Colonel Sharp Beak had wasted no time in setting up his rules. He has imposed restrictions on food for thestrals, and he made them work throughout the day until the sun was set outside. Quicksilver was placed in the same position, forced to work and toil on moving the large amounts of lumber from the entrance to the new barracks that were being built. Everyday was a struggle, for he was given no breaks and little to eat. What made it worse was that the Nomad Gryphons that overlooked them laughed and scorned him, throwing piles of snow filled with rocks at him. He had cuts and bruises around his side and chest, and each step made his wounds sting from the pain.

Another thing that made his days worse was the fact that he was spending less and less time speaking with both Gretchen and Nightshade moon. For Nightshade and his people, it was getting worse as the days went by.

They lost four of their own, two elderly and two children. They couldn’t be allowed to mourn or to grief over the bodies, as the Nomads forced them to keep working. They had taken the bodies outside the cave to who knows where, but it was most likely just out of spite.

For Gretchen, it was a lot different. Normally he would see her around the camp, taking care of the necessary duties around the encampment. Nowadays, she was told to attend to the wounded in the triage. He would often walk by and watch her work alongside Felix, as they tended to the wounded and infirm. She would often work late into the night, and he would not see her until either he was about to sleep or when he has dosed off. But when he did see her, he saw the weariness in her eyes and her wings drooping to the side. On one of the nights, he even saw blood still on her claws, likely from treating with the still critical patients.

All in all, she was worse for wear, same as him.

As those days went on, he kept working and toiling with the barracks, taking back breaking loads of lumber to its destination, then later helping build the building while the Nomads watched. The Noble gryphons that were nearby helped in the process, yet none of the Nomads would dare lift a talon. He could see it sometimes in their eyes, the spiteful contempt for one another, more so on the Nomads. It appeared that as long as Sharp Beak was in command, they would not do anything to help.

To Quicksilver, Sharp Beak was misusing his authority. He abused his chain of command by going over the heads of the Noble gryphons and doing whatever it took to stay in power. In a way, Quicksilver felt that the gryphon was more like the mad king Bronzeclaw.

Although today was not all bad. He was given a small reprieve to take a small bundle of linen to Felix. It was a simple task, but he would rather do that than log lumber all over camp. He had made his way towards the triage and hoped for a chance to speak with them.

As he drew closer to the triage, he started to hear a voice. It was not one of moaning or strife, but more like a song. It lasted for a few moments before it softly mumbled off. As he came upon them, he looked about the area and saw that several of its occupants were fast asleep.

However, he also saw three at the end of the room. He immediately saw Felix, holding his book in his claws while Gretchen sat next to him. The third was a gryphon who lied on his cot, his head bandaged and his claws on either side of him. Quicksilver blinked once and thought that gryphon had passed, but quickly rejected the idea when he saw his chest move up and down. As he drew closer, the same hymn-like song was uttered, and he looked upon Felix as he sang.

“Oh sons, my brother, hear my plea now,” Felix began, his voice soft and his words slow. “Let my words be there to guide thee. Our Journey’s lead us through much heart heat ache, as we strive for… as we strife for…” Felix stopped his singing as he cursed under his breath, and his head lowered in defeat.

“Don’t stop now, Felix. You were doing so well earlier,” Gretchen said, her words trying to soothe him.

“I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just... no matter how many times I work with this song, I never get the right words. I’m the best at the beginning, but I seem to struggle when the rest of it comes in.”

“You’ve written this down, have you?” she asked, giving a raised eyebrow.

“Well yes, but this is still a work in… ah, Quicksilver,” Felix said, turning his attention as soon as he spotted him. “I see you brought some linen.”

Quicksilver laid out some fresh cloth on the table nearby. “Yes, I was just ordered to bring this here. It sure beats breaking your back over lumber or being consistently sneered at by Sharp Beak‘s goons,” he said.

Felix looked disheartened by this treatment. “I’m sorry to hear that. He’s certainly tightening his grip upon this camp,” he said.

“Felix, you saved my life from him several days ago. Why can’t you use your own authority to stop this?” he asked.

Felix shook his head. “It’s not that easy as you may think. I know I have my sphere of influence and the voice of the general, but I can’t risk unbalancing everything that has been done,” he said.

Quicksilver gave him a peculiar look, leading him to continue.

“Say if I were to apprehend him. What would his ardent supporters do? They would riot for their leader back and make demands. The worse case scenario is that they come for us and kill us outright and the whole encampment, including the Nobles who are still stationed here. I know I have my abilities, but I do have my limits. And on that thought...” he said, leaning in a bit closer so that he spoke in a soft spoken tone. “You are still a prisoner here. If you keep speaking more about this, then you might be considered special treatment over the thestrals, and that won’t be good on your conscious, will it?” he explained.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. He never did consider that possibility. Then again, Sharp Beak was one for making enemies, and he hoped that things would turn out for the better for him and the thestrals when the general did return, though he doubted it would happen.

As he pondered this, Gretchen stepped in. “Both my brother and Dead Eye are gone with my uncle, Fletching. This is what Sharp Beak wanted and he is staying, no matter who gets in his way. We just have to be patient. My uncle told me and Felix that they would be back within a week’s time. Whatever comes their way, I’m certain they will handle it,” she said.

Quicksilver gave a small sigh. It was small enough for them to notice his discouragement, but not enough for them to engage. He wouldn’t know how long it will take for General Quill to return, if ever.

They’re sending another invasion force to recapture Prancy, he thought, imagining the scenario in his head. They’re going to either starve them out or surround the city. Winter is here, which is maddening beyond believe. But still, the war may continue on much longer if they succeed. He finished his thoughts as Felix cleared his throat.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Quicksilver. I’ve got other tasks that require my attention,” he said as he went back to attending to his patients. Quicksilver turned to leave, but stopped himself to give a smile back to them.

“By the way Felix, that song you were doing was quite nice,” he said. He began to head out, until Felix waved a claw at him, grabbing his attention.

“It’s a hymn that I have been working on for some time now. Though some of the words I use tend to be more lyrical and soothing, yet I just can’t find the right tone to it. To top it off, I’ve read into my own books that I’ve brought along, yet none could yield anything that would inspire me. Perhaps a new perspective will help shed some light on my hymn,” he said.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. “You're asking me for advice? Can Gretchen help you instead? She seemed to have more inspiring things then what my life has to offer,” he said. Gretchen gave a huff of amusement, though he was unsure.

“Why not? A new perspective from a different race might shine some light on my path. You see, Arch Gryphons are known for their spiritual connection in our lands. Those who dedicate themselves to Saint Gregor also strive to give a hymn or song to his name or his people. I myself am striving to uplift our broken souls so that we can find peace in out time of struggle. My hope is that my song, my hymn can uplift the souls of those who have suffered, and that they can not only rise up to meet the challenges before them, but so that they can finally have a life worth meaning,” he said.

Quicksilver blinked a few times. “That is very...genuine, Felix. It would be a privilege to help,” he said.

Felix gave a small smile. “It does my heart good to hear that. Now,” he said as he pulled up his book and quill, ready to write. “Tell me something that inspires you,” he asked.

Quicksilver looked over to Gretchen, who nodded to him. Taking a steady breath, he decided to give a few ideas out.

“Well, for starters, I guess the one thing I can say that inspires me is my sister, Silverwing. Nothing is more important than my family, and I someday wish to go back to her,” he said as Felix began writing his words down. “I long to go back to my home, or if I ever had a home. I just want so much to have a place to call my own, to grow a family and to live a life free from war.”

He paused, waiting for Felix to finish up his writing. Once he did, he looked up to Quicksilver as if he was waiting for something, like a student to a teacher. He almost smiled as Felix waved his claw at him, urging him to go on.

“Another thing that is important to me is my friends, a few of which I made among the army and legionnaires. I was stationed with them in Canterlot, training and living with them as if they were my brothers. In a way, they are more like my family then I care to admit. We all are different, in more ways than one. Some wish to be scholars, others wish wish to return to their old lives if possible.They are all dedicated to serving our nation and they all wish to return home, just like me,” he said as Felix continued to write down in his book. As he finished scribbling his last sentence, he noticed that Gretchen was quiet during this and looking down at the ground for the most part. He wondered what was bothering her when Felix raised his voice once again.

“Alright, I think I almost have enough. If you wouldn’t mind, if you can shed another item, something that makes you really care. Is there anything that you wish to add?” he asked, eager to write another entry into his book.

Quicksilver thought for a moment, wondering what else he could add to help him into his hymn. He soon found himself drawn to Gretchen, who still was looking down to the patient before her, but for the most part lost in her own little world.

It was then he found his answer.

“I think the last thing that I wanted to have is having to soar again,” he said, directing his attention to Felix. As he did, however, he noticed that Gretchen had stirred and looked at him. “I wish to be flying again. I want to have that freedom to have no boundaries, to fly in the open sky, feel the wind on my face and to have that wind carry me home to where I was born. That is what I miss the most,” he said.

Felix finished writing the last bit into his book. “I think that is something we both share,” Felix chuckled as he closed the book. “Thank you for sharing that. I’m certain to use some of this for my hymn,” he said.

Quicksilver nodded. He felt a little proud that he was able to help in some small way. He turned to speak to Gretchen, who simply stared at him.

“There you are, little equine,” a loud boisterous voice came behind him. Quicksilver turned to see the corpulent Black Talon moving towards him. He carried a small piece of meat in one claw and had strings of flesh on his cheeks. He smiled with an arrogance he showed before and revealed the food stuck in his teeth.

“Your are needed for work at the entrance. I’m here to escort you,” he said.

Quicksilver stared up at him with a glare. “I was told I only had small task, nothing more,” he replied.

Black Talon chuckled, his belly jiggling up and down in an unpalatable manner. “Sharp Beak has a change of plan for you,” he said as he lunged his right claw and snagged the top of his mane. Quicksilver gave a half cry as he was tossed out of the tent and landed in the snow outside. Quicksilver was able to get up, albeit at a slow pace and looked up at the fat gryphon staring down at him.

“Get moving now. We don’t have all day,” he said as Quicksilver departed the triage, leaving Gretchen and Felix where they were.

Quicksilver moved across the camp with Black Talon on his heels. He missed having the silent treatment with Warden, who had left with Ebon Jaeger and General Quill. He always was polite when he was quiet; Black Talon was nothing more than a narcissistic slob. Black Talon kept droning on and on about his supposed accomplishments and his achievements for the gryphon kingdom, but Quicksilver could tell that he was full of himself. How a fat bastard like him could be in the gryphon army, or any army for that matter, was beyond him. As the two continued towards the cave entrance, Black Talon spoke once more.

“Oh, you wouldn't believe those Thestrals. Savages one and all. They don’t even deserve to be considered equines, or even ponies for that matter.”

Quicksilver said nothing as he continued to rant.

“No matter what we provide, they always complain about not getting proper care when we provide what’s best for them.”

That’s an outright lie, Quicksilver thought as he continued to move.

“You know, it was a pleasure seeing them weep in anguish as I dragged their dead away,” he said with utmost joy in his voice.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t turn to face him dead in the eye, but kept his gaze forward. He knew any slight against that gryphon would get him beaten or punished in some nefarious way.

“Oh, the cries as I dragged the elderly! The way they were dragged across the snow, it was music to my ears as I heard them beg for them back. I gave them a solid honor, and threw those carcasses off the mountain side,” he said.

Quicksilver felt a pit in his stomach. He looked down and felt disgusted by this.

“Although, I wish I could throw the filthy brat off the side of the mountain. That miscreant who bit me will get his due, and that is the day I won’t miss,” he said.

Quicksilver gave a sharp snarl, but not enough to make Black Talon notice. “I hope you choke on a bone, you overweight stool pigeon,” Quicksilver said under his breath.

“You say something?” Black Talon asked.

Quicksilver shook his head.

Black Talon merely grunted in annoyance and kept on moving until they reached their destination.

“There it is. Your task,” he said, pointing his fat talon forward. Quicksilver looked to what was in front of him: what appeared to be a large tree. Its branches had all been removed, and it was at least twenty feet in length and the width about to his chest. He also noticed a pair of metal chain links attached to either end of the log. They were attached to a single harness that he had worn many times before.

“I’m supposed to pull this?” Quicksilver asked, knowing it was a dumb question in the first place. Black Talon chuckled at this and pointed one of his meaty talons at the fallen tree.

“You will be pulling this all by yourself. No pony shall help you, and you will be given no breaks. This is to be pulled all the way towards the barracks, and only after you’ve delivered it will you be finally done for the day.”

“It’s late in the day as is, and you expect me to tug this thing to-”

He didn’t finished as he felt a claw on the back of his head and shoved forward, landing into the snow in front of the harness.

“No excuses! Get this done and maybe we’ll be generous in serving you our scraps. Now get in that harness, you mongrel!” he commanded.

Quicksilver reluctantly did as he was told. He equipped himself into the harness, the cold leather like ice to the touch. He shuddered as he secured himself, and the harness was soon ready for use. Black Talon sealed the deal as he came over and tugged rather tightly onto the fastener. Quicksilver grunted from both the cold and the pain. Black Talon then stood back and smacked one of his talons from the last of the food he ate and seemed to marvel at the prisoner before him.

“Yes, a good little equine slave. Doing the job that is better for the likes of you,” he said, then turning and headed off to parts unknown.

Quicksilver remained where he was, locked to a large tree and his only means of being freed was to do the task at hoof. Taking a deep breath, he began moving forward, only to find that the log wouldn’t budge.

“Are you bucking kidding me?” he said to himself as he pulled hard onto the harness. The chains clanked together as the tree refused to move. He tugged and grunted, grinding his teeth as he pulled with all of his strength. Then, in a single moment, he heard the snow and ice crack, and the tree moved out from its position. He pulled it a few feet until he stopped to catch his breath.

“They let the damn thing to freeze just so it's harder for me,” he concluded, before continuing to pull the heavy load. As the first few minutes passed, Quicksilver felt the strain of the tree. His muscles bulged and ached as he continued to move the first few meters from its original position. His body, worn from the previous day's events, had been incredibly taxing. Inch by painful inch, with every foot that he could gain, his body moved on, but all he could was pray that it would end soon. Minutes turned to the first hour as he continued to slog through the snow and muck. He felt every fiber of his being screaming as he pulled, and he struggled when the tree would get stuck or when his body was tired and he needed a few minutes rest. He paused for a breath and turned around to see how much progress he made.

That’s about fifty meters I believe, Quicksilver thought, feeling a sense of overwhelming dread as he looked back at where the barracks was. The building was still a hundred meters away, and he already groaned for the remainder of his trek.

He heard the sound of the dinner bell and cast his gaze to the flock of gryphons already gathering to the mess tent. The gryphons, particularly the Nomads, were indulging themselves on the fresh food served to them. Quicksilver felt the pit of his stomach growl in protest and placed a hoof over his belly. He hadn't eaten much today, barely given anything save some water and a half-eaten loaf of bread. Sharp Beak wanted him to suffer, but he knew that any slight or sign of weakness would make the colonel continue to ridicule him, or even put more tasks on his already burdened back. Taking a hesitant breath, he continued once more down the path.

Quicksilver dug his hooves into the dirt and pulled, his shoulders aching as he continued to exert himself. He breathed heavily with each tug, and every few inches to the next yard he was able to pull the heavy tree at a steady pace. While he moved, he felt the ground shake slightly under him as he looked behind to see what was causing the commotion. He saw the minotaurs marching passed him, carrying more lumber to the barracks. Their muscles bulged at ridiculous sizes as they carried large stones and broken trees towards their destination.

He looked up ahead and saw that the building was nearly complete. Its foundation has been built and the walls have been added, and parts of the roof was all that was left. Ahead, he saw the minotaurs place the large boulders on the side and tie ropes to the side of them. He then saw others pull onto the roof pieces and hoist them up, using the boulders hold up the foundation as they brought in the final pieces of lumber. He also some minotaurs ahead of him breaking some boulders into smaller pieces and making a makeshift stone chimney.

Seemed the gryphons wanted all the luxury in the world.

The minotaurs had it tough just as much as he did, and they continued to build for the last six days since the General was gone. They looked worn and tired, but they still amazed Quicksilver to no end at their strength. They moved back and forth from their destination and back, delivering more lumber and boulders to the barracks for the final construction.

For a moment he wished that he had their strength.

For the next thirty minutes, he continued to press on until he noticed one of the bulls stopping in its tracks. He looked up and saw that it was the great blue bull, the same one that won that fight that he happened to witness. The bull’s beady green eyes stared down at him, and he observed him rather curiously. He was watching him like a strange creature, wondering what he was doing and wondering why he was doing what he was doing.

Quicksilver couldn’t comprehend as to why the bull eyed him or was interested in what he was doing. He ignored the bull and focused on the path ahead. He struggled once again to continue pressing on, yet as he moved, the bull slowed down. Quicksilver noticed that the bull slowed just enough so that it moved at his pace. He wondered why the bull would even be observing him or having any attentive views of him. He looked back up with a curious expression, and the bull stared back with equal interest.

The blue bull eyed the giant tree, then back at him, his head cocked to the side like a small child wondering what his parent is making in the kitchen. In a way, Quicksilver thought the bull was like a small child, just in a giant body that would tear you apart if you stared to long. Yet he stared at the bull, watching him, wondering what he was thinking, what was going on through his mind. He didn’t know if it lasted an hour to a few minutes, but there was something in those green eyes, he didn’t know what it was or how to describe it, yet the bull seemed to have an understanding that they both shared.

That they both had a struggle to overcome.

The blue bull’s ears soon flickered to life and then the bull returned to its normal pace, moving ahead as Quicksilver saw that the barracks was getting closer. He blinked a few times, wondering how it was closer. He was certain he was still far away.

Was I close already? he thought as he neared his destination.

He was so close, so close to the end.

He didn’t know how long he was pulling onto the tree, nor did he seemed to care. He didn’t know if by staring at the blue bull he had imagined having some staring contest, or his mind had imagined that his ordeal was a fickle dream. Whatever the case may be, he was near the end of it all, and he would finally be done.

“What is taking you?!” he heard Black Talon shout up ahead. Quicksilver looked to see the corpulent gryphon and Sharp Beak waiting for him. The uptight colonel had a sneer on his countenance and looked unpleased by how Quicksilver was here. Regardless, he knew they were upset, yet less so then he had imagined. As he gave them a second look, he could see the two were also surprised. It was a look that he thought he would never see those two ever do, and yet here they stood, gawked by some force that is beyond their comprehension.

“I’m impressed, pegasus. You’ve managed to pull this tree all the way here,” Sharp Beak said as Quicksilver went past them, pulling the large lumber forward until the tree slid into a small trench, the tree making a loud thump as he finally came to a stop. Quicksilver had stopped, yet his body leaned forward as if still trying to pull the tree, yet he didn’t even realize it. His whole body felt ragged, and he felt sweat coming off the side of his body. His breathing was heavy, and he could see his breath in the cold air.

Was everything this colder? Is it night? he thought, his mind wandering about the place and saw some snow falling on the ground around him. As he looked about, almost in a daze, he noticed a gryphon guard coming up to him and grabbing a hold of his harness. With a few clicks, the harness came off with a bone crunching sound. The harness has frozen over on his body, which made it difficult to remove. The gryphon had to pry it off with its own claws, and each pull felt as if it tugged at his very skin. Once it was finally gone, Quicksilver gasped as he felt the burden lifted off his shoulders and he held his head low, almost wanting to collapse on the spot. As he breathed heavily over the whole ordeal, he heard movement on his left and out of the corner of his eye he saw a pair of talons in the snow. One of the talons was lifted up and he felt his mane pulled sharply upward, forcing him to stare into Sharp Beak eyes.

“You’ve got much spirit in you,” Sharp Beak said. A grin appeared on his face as he gave a small chuckle. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He let him go and began heading back to the encampment.

“I look forward to breaking that spirit of yours,” he called out as he left, with Black Talon following close behind. Quicksilver was left alone, his only companion the wind and its cold embrace. His mind wandered over to the great fire, thinking it was still burning its blaze. He looked over, and sure enough, the fire was burning in the distance. He began moving, wanting to get warmth, yet he thought he didn’t need it. He felt as if he were in a drunken daze, the land shifting from side to side as he went closer to the campfire. He felt numb in his legs and lower body, the cold already cutting through him.

He looked about him and found that many of the gryphons had retired for the night, and only a few gryphons had stayed up. He saw a few young bloods from the Nomad tribe who were standing guard and he noticed how they eyed him. Not with hate or envy, but instead pity. He could tell that they couldn’t stomach what the Colonel has been doing or what their older kin were doing, but he could only guess if they were going against their better judgement.

After a few minutes of walking, more or less moving in a drunken stupor, he soon found himself at the very front of the fire pit, the flames burning high into the air. He eyed an empty log nearby and took a seat. He breathed heavily as his body seemed to collapse into his seat, his body feeling like paste from the long arduous task that he had to accomplish.

No, not accomplishment; absolute torture was more fitting.

He stared at the fire ahead of him, the flames giving off its warmth. Yet he could barely feel it on his coat, and he felt more colder than the heat of the flame. He sat there for a time, watching the flames like a child, wondering where the next little spark would fly out from the crackling wood. The longer he stayed, the more warm he felt, yet he still felt cold. He felt miserable, depressed and most of all, tired.

Tired of being pushed around.

Tired of being forced to do that gryphon’s bidding.

But most of all, he was tired that no matter what he would do, he still believed he would never get out of here.

The dread lingered through his mind, only to hear to hear a rumbling noise around him.

He stirred a little, opening his eyes that felt iced over. He felt his lips crack as he gave a yawn and turned to see what was coming to him. His eyes widened a little as he saw the minotaurs coming forward towards the fire. Their hulking bodies were covered in sweat, and Quicksilver swore he could see the steam coming off their bodies. Quicksilver then saw the big blue one at the front, his breath heavy as his large hooves carried him towards the bonfire. Quicksilver looked in front of him, hoping to avoid his gaze. He waited a moment and saw that the bulls were moving around the bonfire, and he believed they were just heading back to their own tents for the night.

To his dismay, he saw them sitting down and resting right in front of the fire.

They all spoke to each other, low enough that he couldn’t follow. It sounded like broken Equestrian, but he couldn’t tell. Either that or he was to tired in wanting to follow what they say at all. He observed the whole lot and noticing that they were more sophisticated than he first believed. He saw their warrior ways from their duel from days past, yet now he could see that they had a more clearer connection then some mindless brutes.

As he continued to watch them, he didn’t notice a large figure coming to his left until it was sitting right down. Quicksilver, out of the corner of his eye, saw it was the big blue bull, and was carrying what appeared to be a carcass of a boar.

When he was close Quicksilver took notice that the blue bull had a mane. He noticed it was short near his back but when it neared its head the mane grew thicker. Its mane was a raggy mess yet the bull didn’t seemed to mind.

He watched as the bull pulled a small strip from the boar and passed the meat to his brethren. Quicksilver observed as they continued this, taking a piece of the flesh and passing it to the next bull.

Quicksilver watched as they handed the boar meat and passed it around, making sure each individual had a share. It was actually a first for him seeing all of the minotaurs together. He could count at least over fifty individuals, of what he could see. They were all compact together, and he might have counted twice on the same bull. Overall, they were creatures that he should not mess with.

He wouldn’t want to imagine what they would do if they went on a rampage.

The boar meat soon came around, stopping next to a bull that sat on his right. The bull was brown with tribal tattoos across its chest, holding the boar meat and stipping away the flesh with its large fingers. The bull then turned to face him and went to offer the meat to him.

Quicksilver looked at him, seeing its blue beady eyes stare back at him. The bull eyed the boar and back at him and Quicksilver only shook his head, not wanting to partake in there meal, or eating meat for that matter. The brown bull then looked up to its companion and lifted the meat over his head. Quicksilver watched the blue bull grabbed the meat from over his head.

Quicksilver breathed a little uneasily as he watched there massive arms over him. He felt he’d be smashed to bits if one of those appendages landed on top of him.

The boar meat was given off to the blue bull, and Quicksilver heard a grunt from his left. He shook a little, believing himself to be from the cold, as he turned to stare at the blue bull. He saw its green eyes staring down at him as if insulted. The bull motioned toward the meat, and Quicksilver caught on really quick. He again shook his head, yet he heard his stomach groan in protest as he did.

It was all the convincing that the blue bull needed, and what he did next surprised Quicksilver.

The bull took a piece of flesh from the boar meat and offered it onto him.

“Eat,” it said with a deep voice.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened in bewilderment. The bull just spoke to him and he could understand! Was it that he was finally paying attention, or was it that he couldn’t fully understand him from being tired? The combination of tiredness and hunger might have deluded his mind from hearing him properly.

Quicksilver eyed the meat and took it without question, still eyeing the bull warily. Decided to suck it up, he put the whole slice of meat into his mouth and began chewing, eating it at a slow pace. The more he chewed, the more he kept imagining eating some hay or some hot loaf of bread with honey.

His mind snapped to attention when he felt a meaty palm on top of his head, making him swallow his food in the process.

He felt the whole the bulls arm around his head, its long appendage on either side. He then felt his head moved slightly, and he soon found himself staring straight into the bull’s eyes. The bull had that same state as before, looking at him as if in a curious nature was about him. Quicksilver could only fathom as to what he wanted to say or do, but he was completely at the bull’s mercy at this point. The blue bull cocked his head to one side and then the other, turning Quicksilver’s head as to observe every detail of his face. Quicksilver felt his heart pound in his chest, and he only stared at the blue bull in fear.

After what felt like an eternity, the blue bull gave the biggest grin that Quicksilver would ever see.

“Equine Strong,” the blue bull said, lifting up its massive palm and patting the top of Quicksilver’s head. He felt his mane pushed up and down from the meaty paw, yet it was soft on his head. He felt like he was some pet being played by a child, a very large one at that. The blue bull then lifted up its arm and pounded his chest twice, making Quicksilver look at him in puzzlement.

“Chief Ironhide,” he proclaimed as Quicksilver looked up to the bull.

“Quick- Quicksilver,” he replied, rather weakly. Ironhide nodded to him, before turning his attention to the rest of his brethren.

“Quicksilver is strong. Pulled like beast. Small equine yet mighty like us,” he said as Ironhide turned to face him, a large smile bore right on his face. “You suffer fate like us. Your resolve immense. Your determination in your eyes. Among my kind, minotaurs respect strength, and we’ve seen that same strength in you, Quicksilver,” he said as the other bulls began chanting the word Silver in a low tone.

Quicksilver couldn’t believe what he was hearing: the bulls actually respected him, just for pulling bloody log. It could have also been the long hours he had spent over the past few days, working and slaving over the long hours behind the pulling and the heaving of the burdens of labor. Yet here and now, these large creatures who were so fearsome were humble enough to acknowledge him as something other then some slave.

They respected him for being who he is.

As he continued to hear their low chant, his mind flickered to thoughts of home, and to his friends.

But more importantly, that of his sister being alright.

“Silverwing,” he muttered at the words and imagined that she was here. His mind wandered about the bonfire and spotted something out of the corner of his eye. A body of blue as his and a silver mane with a blue line.

What he saw strongly resembled his sister.

He quickly stood up, causing the bulls to stop their chant.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” he said hastily, and took off for his tent, leaving the herd behind him. He raced passed the tents, trying to find what he saw. He hurried past sleeping gryphons and a few of the guards paid him no heed as he went. He had one focus on his mind, and wherever he went he could only see a faint glimpse of his sister. He gave chase for several minutes, seeing only glimpses of her body disappearing behind a tent. As he went, he found her behind another pair of tents. He called after her several times, trying to get her attention, but she would never respond.

After running non stop, he soon found himself outside the encampment and saw his tent on the hill. He stopped where he was, his world twisting and turning, making him sway from side to side. He felt delirious as he tried to focus on the path ahead of him. He tried moving, but his body almost tumbled to the ground. He stopped himself, his hooves planted and his breath shaky. He looked up to his tent, and saw his sister standing there, waiting for him.

“Silverwing!” he called out in desperation, only for his leg gave out and him to fall into the snow. His body welcomed the cold snow and his eyes fluttered open, trying to catch one last glimpse of her. He felt the snow land on him, and his body was ready to give in. The last thing he saw was a pair of wings gliding towards him as his world turned to blackness.

Author's Note

Sorry for the long wait everyone. Lots of development within this chapter. I do hope you all enjoy.

Art pieces were possible without the help of these fine people.
Dragonfoxgirl for her lovely picture of both Silverwing and Hammer.
TurnipBerry for the wonderful art piece of the Diamond Dog Brutus.
And Finally Vindhov, for the amazing picture with both Quicksilver and the Minotaur Ironhide.

I can't thank them enough for making this. Bear in mind I am waiting another awesome art piece for the next chapter and you don't want to miss it.

Also, apologies that the art is not showing up on page. I left a link for it instead or it can be found here.

Blizzards and Enduring Spirit

Quicksilver was dreaming. He felt his body flying in the sky, the snow falling around him and covering his body in white. Yet, he strangely felt warm to it as he flew through it. He didn’t seem to care for the cold, he welcomed it. He allowed his body to glide through the cold wind and air.

He saw a light ahead of him. It was pure and no darkness surrounded it, like a light at the end of the tunnel.

A smile parted his lips; he wanted to go to the light.

He flew through the sky, yet he drifted at the same time, like a leaf on the wind. He didn’t seem to care where he was flying, so long as he was nearing closer to the light. He looked around him and could see nothing but the cold winter. His wings continued to ice over, but they still functioned to keep him flying.

“Quicksilver,” a faint voice called to him through the snow and wind.

His ears perked up, wondering where the sound was or who said it. When he couldn’t find anypony, he continued to move forward.

“Quicksilver.” The voice grew louder.

Quicksilver halted his flight, stopping just short of the light’s threshold. He looked about him once more, seeing the snow that continued to fall around him. Yet the more he stared, the more he saw that the snow had slowed its descent.

“Who’s there?” he called softly. The voice did not reply, and he was more confused than ever. He soon felt his wings begin to heat up, his body feeling pressure from putting in so much effort.

“Come back, Quicksilver,” the voice spoke from underneath him. He looked down.

His eyes widened when he saw his sister calling up to him from the ground below. She waved her hooves at him, trying to get his attention. He wanted to see her, he wanted so much to be with her, to hug his older sister and find comfort once again. He tried going to her, but the closer he moved toward her, the more the snow melted off of him and his body felt pain. He ignored it.The light behind him faded, but he paid no heed to it. He continued to descend at a rapid rate, getting closer to her. He didn’t care that he was falling; he would gladly give anything or pay any price if only he could be with her once again.

He fell at a frightening rate, while a large hole grew bigger right in front of Silverwing. Quicksilver tried to fly and avoid the hole, yet his wings would not function. He fell through the hole, barely grasping the ledge before it broke apart. He starred up in horror as he lost sight of Silverwing, and he cried out her name as he tumbled into the darkness that surrounded him.

***

“Silverwing… Silverwing,” Quicksilver muttered, his vision obscured by darkness. He moved his head from side to side, trying to get it up, but found that he couldn’t. Either the blanket was wrapped too tightly or he was just too weak to move. He did notice, however, that he felt much warmer than usual. He didn’t know if he was granted mercy and given an extra blanket, or if his body was buried by his own thin blanket and he just couldn’t get out.

“Silverwing,” he muttered once again, raising his head again. This time, he was a little more successful, but soon found his head was blocked. He felt something wrap around the back of his head and he didn’t know what was holding him down. He turned his head to the side and found that whatever he was facing was quite warm to his face and cheeks. His eyes closed, and he tried to rest back into the soft surface, his cheek brushing up against the warmth of this mysterious surface.

“Are you awake, fletching?” he heard Gretchen say.

Guess she was awoken again by my mutterings or night frights, Quicksilver thought. He muttered a ‘yes’ that was barely audible, and he smothered himself back into the blanket. He then felt a talon poke him on the head.

“That’s good. At least you’re not dead, so try not to get comfortable in my feathers,” she added.

Quicksilver’s eyes opened in abject horror.

His face was buried in Gretchen’s chest, and his body was hugged tightly against hers.

(image here)

His face turned a beet red as he eyed what he could see. Her wing had wrapped around him like a thick blanket, covering him from any chance of cold or the chill of winter. He felt her arms along his body, as well as her talons prickling the back of his head. One of his legs was also in between her feline legs, and he was tight as a prey to a boa constrictor. He had a very sudden urge to bolt from his resting place, but the sharp talons made him think twice on it.

“Gretchen, what are you doing!?” he stammered, trying to make sense of it all. He tried to raise his head back up and away from her.

“Hold still, you’re going to let the cold in,” she said, firmly holding him in place and removing any escape attempt. “I found you collapsed in the snow, Fletching. You would have been a frozen corpse by morning,” she said.

“I fainted in the snow?” he said, his mind remembering the details of what occurred and how Sharp Beak had worked him to the bone.

“Yes, and you’re lucky that I was there to pick your stupid body up and bring it inside. You were cold as a glacier when I was warming you up,” Gretchen said, belittling him like a child.

His mind wandered for a moment, remembering how cold he was earlier. He could imagine being gifted at least a large and thicker blanket for his troubles. He then he turned his head up and was able to see directly into her eye, where she watched with an unamused expression.

“So the reason you’re holding me this close is because-”

“Because your body was cold, and you would have likely frozen to death if you slept on your side of the tent, regardless of what you had. Besides, it's easier to keep warm when you share heat,” she said.

Quicksilver looked at her curiously, but with a small shade of red appearing on his face. She noticed this and gave a little sneer as she draped her left claw over his head. He cringed slightly from the impact. It was not enough to hurt, but just enough to keep him from staring.

“Don’t get me wrong, Fletching. I hate this as much as the next gryphon, and I don’t want others thinking I’ve gone soft for you. So don’t get any funny ideas,” she said.

He nodded. She was usually more reserved, being tough on him when it came to his care; the reason could be said that she didn't want to get ridiculed by her peers. He also knew from earlier that she did have a caring side to her, but that was with the Thestrals. Besides, he was not sure how this would be different from when she had cared for his wing and watched over him. He thought over this, then felt Gretchen shift in position and felt her tail around his back leg.

“What are you doing now?” he asked.

She grunted in reply. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Just get some sleep, Fletchling; you’ll need it for tomorrow,” she said, lowering her head just over his own.

“Kind of hard to go to sleep knowing an apex predator is clutching me close in her talons,” he said softly. She chuckled at his remark, her chest reverberating next to his cheek. He then felt the back of his head grabbed by her claw, and he was lifted up to see her face to face.

“Oh, a predator am I?” she said, almost sounding serious as she gave off a authoritative attitude. “You will be lucky enough to survive the night without my help. I have the power here, and you are right in the palm of my claws,” she said, leaning closer until her beak was close to one of his eyes. He gave a nervous laugh as she drew closer, her beak opening up and seeming to chatter next to his face. After a tense few seconds, she lowered his head back down rather roughly and chuckled once again.

“You know, Fletching, you are so easy to tease. A predator unleashes his fangs, and you’re already a quivering mess,” she said as she lowered her head back down to his head. He was lucky enough that she couldn’t see him turning cherry red by her antics.

“Now I’ll never get to sleep,” he stated. He felt another firm hit on the head by her claw. “Ow.”

Gretchen soon draped her left arm over him as Quicksilver lowered his head back down, resting (albeit reluctantly) next to her chest. He felt the warmth hit him instantly as he pressed himself further into her feathers. A small realization crossed his mind as he pressed his cheek further in. He found that on the surface her feathers were a little cold, but deeper in it was as warm as a small furnace.

Almost equivalent to a feathery blanket, in a literal sense of the word.

He laid still next to her body, trying his best not to freak out that he was in the position, but it was hard not to ignore. He turned his head slightly and found his cheek and ear were sitting next to her chest. It was then he heard a distinct heartbeat from her, beating in a rhythm that was slow and relaxed. He focused on that heartbeat, using the tempo as means to lull him sleep. As he tried to drift off, one of his ears flickered toward Gretchen. He opened his eye and tried to look at her, but was held tight and couldn’t lift his head off her chest. Clearing his mind, he spoke softly enough for her to hear.

“Thank you, Gretchen. For helping me,” he said.

He heard her grunt in response. “You’re welcome, Fletchling. Now sleep,” she said bluntly as she resumed resting. Quicksilver returned to his position, his head placed right next to her chest. As he tried to go back to sleep, another thought came to his mind, a thought that kept him up for another hour before he was able to get back to sleep.

Why did you save me?

***

Quicksilver woke up and found that Gretchen was nowhere to be found. He heard the hustle and bustle from the camp outside his tent; nothing new or out of the ordinary. He stood up from his position, his muscles straining from overuse. No doubt he would spurn the colonel if he didn’t show up. He moved weakly, but was slowly getting motion into his legs. He stopped at the entrance of the tent and gave a look back at the loft of hay on the bed.

He had a niggling thought if what he experienced last night was real or some vivid dream.

As he exited the tent, he saw a guard stationed nearby. The guard took a good look at him and motioned him to move out.

“Sharp Beak is waiting for you, scum,” he said before forcing Quicksilver to move down the hill. Already he missed Warden being here and having a silent guard by his side.

He made his way down the hill, taking in the cold morning air (if it was morning; he personally felt it was more around noon). After walking for a time, he soon found himself near the barracks and saw many gryphons standing in front of the entrance. Quicksilver looked up and saw the whole building’s foundation and walls had finally been completed.

His escort moved him towards the front of the barracks. That is where he saw Sharp Beak at the front, addressing his soldiers. Quicksilver rolled his eyes as the pompous colonel spoke, giving off bravado that without his ‘leadership’, then this barrack would not have been possible.

It was a whole bunch of horse shit to him.

Sharp Beak was in the middle of his grandeur when he noticed Quicksilver approaching.

“Ah, there is the prodigal pony we’ve all been waiting for,” he said as he ushered Quicksilver to come forward. He did as he was told, moving closer to the colonel’s side and seeing that smug face that he was bearing. As he drew closer, he noticed the Thestrals were all packed together, Nightshade being at the head of his flock. The leader was weary and drained from the days’ events, and he could see the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. They were nocturnal creatures, after all.

Once Quicksilver was close to his side, Sharp Beak garnered the crowd's attention by holding his right claw outward.

“My brothers, we have much to celebrate for what has been done this past week. This all was the culmination of the work that we have set for this fort and what it shall be aspired to.” He stopped, turning to take a few steps to his left. “With these barracks finally complete, we shall be ready to train for the long war to come. As you all might have heard, there is an army consisting of two divisions, each with five regiments of our finest has to offer.”

Twenty thousand soldiers!? Quicksilver thought while Sharp Beak continued on.

“They are marching towards Prancy, with the intention of recapturing the city and driving out the invaders from the lands which are rightfully ours!” he proclaimed. The Nomad gryphons cheered in jubilation to this. Quicksilver noticed that all of the Royal Gryphons were silent, and saw a few young blood Nomads not joining in with the news. Sharp Beak turned around and walked towards him, still keeping his attention to the crowd.

“We have come together, in this bastion, were we will be the heroes of the Gryphon Empire. We will be the future vanguard of King Bronzeclaw’s armies! We will be the swordwind that will cut out the resistance of the foolish equines! After all these years, we will be the ones that will turn this around, for the greatness of the gryphon empire. We shall smite the equines from our lands!” he yelled out.

He turned his attention to Quicksilver as his comrades cheered him once again. “Never again will they trample over our lands. Never again will there flags be upon our monuments of our cities. We shall strike as one claw, one raging fire and one almighty soul!” he yelled, getting ever closer to Quicksilver. “Never again will our children need fear of these equines who stomp and curse like monsters in the night!” he said, seizing the top of Quicksilver’s mane as he pulled him to face him.

“Your leaders think that they’ve already achieved victory. After all the losses they’ll suffer, it will not be the sound of victory, but of dread. Fear will grip their hearts as we drag them from their glittery towers of Canterlot and impale their bodies upon the spikes of our conquered land. They will know that all of Equestria belongs to the gryphons of the Empire, and they will know our vengeance burns far greater than the sun itself!” he finished.

His Nomad gryphons screamed out in a thrall of joy and rage. Quicksilver eyed them, watching as they were whipped up into a frenzy. He was not sure if this was his intention, or just wanting them to get angry. After a moment, Sharp Beak released his mane and turned his attention to his troops.

“Now since this has been finished, I thought we get everyone's belongings into the barracks and get ourselves settled. But first...” he said, snapping his talons for a couple of gryphons to step aside and for Quicksilver to see who came forward.

His eyes widened when he saw Gretchen coming forward with a large barrel strapped to her back. She carried the heavy barrel forward until came a few paces away from the mass of gryphons. When she stopped, she looked up to see Sharp Beak, and that is where Quicksilver was able to get a good glimpse of her. She looked ragged, more so then from yesterday. He could see the bags under her eyes, and her body swayed from side to side, weary from some laborious task. Her feathers were also ruffled up and unkempt, no longer holding to their pristine state. She looked and eyed Quicksilver first, but then focused on her attention to Sharp Beak, who seemed pleased by this.

“As you can see, my valiant brethren, this is the result of the misguided and foolish,” he said, berating Gretchen like a criminal. She stared back at him with a hateful gaze, and Sharp Beak merely chuffed at her expense. “This naive child had committed the worst crime imaginable: aiding and nurturing to the the care of these feral beasts and our prisoner,” he said, gesturing to Quicksilver while the throng hissed and booed at him.

“I only did what was right!” Gretchen flared, her wings extending and trying to put up a show of strength. Yet Sharp Beak was unfazed by this.

“As you can see, her mind’s been poisoned by being around these creatures. Their stench has rubbed off on her, making her feel of sympathy for these mongrels,” he said with much mockery. Quicksilver watched her eyes narrow in disappointment.

“Like you know anything about sympathy or kindness! You’re nothing but a beast yourself!” Gretchen said.

Sharp Beak laughed at her remark.

“If I’m a beast, then I would be the one who stalks these equines’ dreams and haunt their nightmares. I would be an instrument of despair, so that these foolish ponies know their place!” he said as he showed off his wings to equal hers. He then turned to two of his guards and nodded to them. They moved in and seized Gretchen by her arms, while she struggled in their grip. They left the barrel behind as she snapped her beak at her captors. She was brought forward before him and forced to sit on her haunches. Before Sharp Beak was able to say anything, his head popped up to a commotion among the crowd. Quicksilver followed his gaze and noticed a staff moving through the throng of gryphons.

“Sharp Beak, have you gone mad?!” Felix’s voice was heard over the crowd. The Arch Gryphon pushed his way past his kind, getting towards the front of the pack and ready to address the colonel. “I will not tolerate the shameful acts upon a fellow gryphon!” he said, pounding his staff into the ground.

Sharp Beak lifted his claw and snapped his talons together. Two Nomad guards with halberds stepped forward and blocked Felix’s path. Felix looked at the two guards, gripping his staff and holding it to his chest.

“You would dare strike down a fellow gryphon, even of one of the cloth?” he said in a calm manner, his focus not on the guards but more onto the colonel.

Quicksilver watched Sharp Beak sneer at him in disgust. “Silence you old fool, or you’re next,” he said as he turned his attention to Gretchen. “You will not interfere with what justice demands.”

“What you call justice is blind hatred! Your actions will be your own downfall, if you continue this path,” Felix said.

“Shut your trap! Guards, remove this priest from my sight, but not too far. He must witness this,” he said. The two guards forced Felix to back away. The arch Gryphon struggled to get past them, yet he was ultimately removed from the inner circle, allowing Sharp Beak to turn his attention back on Gretchen.

“Now, since you have been so ardent in helping these pathetic creatures, we might as well give you an award for your services,” he said while a gryphon broke open the barrel and the gryphons nearby began seizing whatever was inside. Quicksilver saw them holding what appeared to be old tomatoes and rotten vegetables. The first dozen or so gryphons lined up as Gretchen looked at her fellow comrades in dismay.

“When my uncle hears of this, he will have your head!” Gretchen said, causing Sharp Beak to laugh at her meager threat.

“When he learns, he will be already retaking Prancy. He will be too far away to hear your cries for help,” he said, then turned to his fellow Nomads.

“Alright, lads! Let her have her reward!” he yelled.

Quicksilver watched as the first few rotten tomatoes and old cabbage sailed through the air and hit their mark. Gretchen lifted her claws up to defend herself as old vegetables struck at her body or splashed at her legs. He turned to see Sharp Beak, who ascended into the air to avoid the fire, laughing as Gretchen was pelted by the rotten food. Quicksilver felt sorrowful as he watched Gretchen being punished. She begged for the first offenders to stop, yet her pleas fell on deaf ears.

He cringed as a large tomato smacked right across her face, the juices trickling off her beak and down her back. Upon further inspection, he noticed tears were streaming down her cheeks, even as she lowered her head and curled herself to become less of a target. She was so vulnerable, and her so-called companions were relishing in her punishment.

It was in that moment that Quicksilver knew what he had to do.

Quicksilver went forward and stood in front of Gretchen, while the gryphons readied for the second volley of projectiles.

“That’s what I thought you would do!” Sharp Beak called out from above, “You did this with the bat savages, and now you're doing it once again! Those who give him a good hit shall get special rooms next to the fire in the barracks!” he yelled to his soldiers. The gryphon Nomads threw the next barrage of food, cheering out for want of the reward. Quicksilver raised his right wing and curved it out, protecting himself as well as covering Gretchen.

He winched slightly from the contact of food pelting him. He lowered his head to make his head as small of a target as possible, and cringed whenever a good hit struck at his side or hit him in the legs. When he got a chance, he was able to take a good look at Gretchen and to see if she was alright.

She stared up at him in bewilderment, her golden eyes dazzled from the nearby fires and she appeared stunned by his appearance. Either she was not expecting him, or she believed that he would never risk doing this for her. She wiped away the first of the rotten tomatoes off her face with a claw, but her attention remained focused on him. He could only imagine what was going on in her mind. Being either grateful for his interference, or uncertain to what his actions have caused.

It didn’t matter much to him. She shouldn’t be punished for helping others.

The gryphons readied another volley, this time extending outward so that they could get better angles on them. A few went into the air and then, without word or warning, they threw the next projectiles at them. Quicksilver hunkered down as best he could, using his right wing to defend himself from the incoming projectiles and tried his best to cover Gretchen. He was peppered by rotten tomatoes and snowballs on his side while the noble gryphons and a number of young bloods stood idle.

He couldn’t stare at them long before he felt a snowball strike the top of his forehead.

He cringed slightly and covered his forehead with a hoof. He rubbed the sore spot and noticed blood on the ground. Observing it closely he saw that the snowball that struck him had a rock inside, and he saw blood upon the small stone. He looked out to see the throng of gryphons and some who saw him made the claim of making that shot.

”I’ve bled him! I get the special room!”

“You're a buffoon, it was I who struck the blow!”

“You're both fools! I will claim the prize!”

He saw a number of gryphons making the claim, and each one engaged each other for asserting their right.

“Have you no honor!” Felix called out from behind the guards, blocked by the halberds the guards carried. He couldn’t interfere in their sport even if he tried.

His words would not temper the hatred the gryphons had for their equine captive.

“Alright lads, that’s enough,” Sharp Beak commanded over his soldiers, descending down to break up the dispute between them. The rest of the Nomads soon ceased their barrage.

This gave Quicksilver a moment to look back down at Gretchen to see if she was alright. Thankfully she was, wiping away some of the rotten debris off her feathers and face. Without another word, he offered a hoof towards her to lift her up. She eyed him waringly, unsure of what he was doing. However, he still held his hoof to her, waiting for to respond. After another moment of hesitation, she reluctantly accepted and pulled herself up from his assistance. He hoisted her up until she stood on her feet and he backed away to give her room. Once she was steady, she continue to stare at him, still stunned for what he has done. Silence permeated between them, but also an understanding was conveyed as well.

An appreciation in the kindness they both shared and the concern it brought.

“Alright, Quicksilver!” Sharp Beak called out, breaking their moment. “Since you’re so adamant in helping others, I say another punishment is in order!” He proclaimed, his fellow gryphons in an uproarious revel in his decision. “But first, you lot gather your things and move into the barracks!” he shouted out and the nomads immediately scattered off to their tents, eager to get the best spots within the barracks. Quicksilver eyed the colonel as he made his way over to them, but stopping short to eye Gretchen.

“I do hope you learnt your lesson. I would hate to see a young beauty be marred once again.” he said in a drowning way. Gretchen snarled and turned her head away, heading off in the direction of where her tent was. Quicksilver went to follow, but stopped when the back of his hair was seized.

“You’re not going anywhere, you swine,” he said, low and unforgiving. Quicksilver grunted in pain as he was pulled by Sharp Beak towards where the rest of the lumber was stacked. He was thrusted forward and he landed heavily onto the ground, some juices from the rotten tomatoes flying off him from the impact. He steadily raised himself to meet the colonel, only to meet two guards facing in front of him. They grabbed at him and he struggled for a moment but he was soon restrained. Quicksilver looked forward to find the colonel, only to find that he was not there. He felt the cold wind around him and he looked up to see that Sharp Beak was over his head, and carrying a long piece of wood. Sharp Beak lowered himself until he placed the wood onto Quicksilver’s back. The guards assisted in this, moving the block until it was balanced onto his back. Quicksilver felt his wings extend slightly, forcing his left wounded wing to hold the block.

“This is a training exercise among my kind,” Sharp Beak started, lowering himself down until he was face to face with Quicksilver. “We place blocks of wood onto our backs and we balance with our wings extended,” he explained, while the two guards finished and left Quicksilver’s side. “The longer we hold it, the more strength we have within our wings, and the most prestige we receive for our feat,” he said, backing away from him.

Quicksilver struggled from the weight of the wood, trying his best to keep it stable. He felt his body shift from one side to the other, almost stumbling from the weight, but he quickly corrected himself. However, his damaged wing had not yet healed, and it was not given the proper amount of time to rest. Because of this, he could feel the strain upon his left wing and he could already feel the pain start to grow.

Sharp Beak only laughed at the display that was being performed.

“The longest that any gryphon held was five hours and fifty minutes. If you can hold out until then, your ordeal will be over,” he said with a sinister grin on his face, turning away to leave him to his supposed task.

“You’re…. You’re insane! Nopony can hold out for that long!” he called out as Sharp Beak gave a loud guffaw at his expense. He turned and gave a smirk, almost knowing that Quicksilver would question him.

“Then you should know your place,” he said, approaching him until he was face to face with Quicksilver. “If you don’t want this, then bend the knee and admit that the Gryphon Empire is superior to your race,” he said.

Quicksilver looked at him, seeing the decision placed before him. Either submit to Sharp Beak and lose all respect, or deny him his victory and face the punishment.

He knew his answer by immediately spatting on the ground in front of Sharp Beak.

The colonel looked down at his front claws and then back at Quicksilver. He snapped his talons together and one of his guards came forward holding a crossbow in his claws.

“If he drops it, you may kill him,” he calmly ordered, leaving the two were they were. The guard heartily checked the crossbow and loaded a single bolt into the groove. He then stood stationary, his crossbow was not aiming at Quicksilver but it was at the ready for the moment he fails. Quicksilver locked his legs into place and kept his wings still, keeping the wood balanced onto his back. He could already feel the sweat pour down the side of his head as he stayed in place. The pressure was already starting to build, and he could feel his wings strain from the constant stress. He kept his focus forward, clenching his teeth in the process.

Breath and endure, he thought, taking slow deep breaths, trying to not think of the possibility of death. Yet, if ever so slowly, his discomfort and fear was slowly getting to him.

Breath… Endure.

***

Silverwing felt jaded while she scanned the horizon, giving a small yawn in the afternoon. She could still see the mountains ahead of her, coming closer everyday they approached. She also could see the sky darken up a bit in the northern sky, but no doubt the storm would not come and reach them. She blinked lazily, the lack of awareness due to a few restless nights, wondering how much further they needed to go.

It’d been a whole week since they left the last village, yet they have made significant progress.

The snow fall had lessened and the roads were more clear, giving them a chance to put in more miles on the road and without hindrance. A five to ten mile work day during bad weather now turned into at least fifteen to twenty miles. The week-long travel from the last village now seemed so distant. Now she believed, hopefully, that they would reach the High Tail mountains within a few short days.

That was not the only good news that she gained, turning her head to see the column of cervine marching behind her.

Strong Oak had more of his cervine join the ranks, forming the rest of his White Tail Rangers. Fifty of his rangers, from what Strong Oak had told her, were dispatched to other parts of Prancy in helping curb any Gryphon threat. Without telling her, he had sent one of his own to retrieve them and after a week’s worth of time, his scout was able to bring them here. He now has eighty rangers that had all come to their aid, bringing the total troop number in their company to a hundred and twenty.

She included the Diamond Dog Brutus into the mix.

Wondering about Brutus, she looked over and saw that he was just in front of the cervine column, alongside several of her guards. Brutus has slowly overcome his silent and sometimes suicidal stance and started to socialize with her troops, in whatever way Diamond Dogs do. Her guards weren’t too keen at first, but over time they came around and talk regularly from time to time. It might have been that it was Brutus who had saved her life back from the Yak that changed their minds, but maybe it was also the pain that he went through when losing his pack.

Whatever the case may be, from his time being with them, Brutus was part of her company.

Deciding it best to take a little break, she raised her hoof and ordered the company to stop.

“Everypony stop! We’ll take a breather!” she called out a little hoarsely. The column of Cervine stopped, planting their weapons into the snow and remaining still. Her guards and the militia stopped as well, and she spotted a few needing to take a breather and plopping their haunches into the snow.

She moved to the nearest guards and raised her voice for them to hear.

“We’ve been traveling far, but we are making good progress. Get some rest now while you can,” she said. Her guards motioned in agreement, while others lifted a hoof to her in acknowledgement.

“Captain Silverwing,” she heard Shadow Hunter call out.

She turned to greet him. “Yes, Shadow Hunter?’ she asked, as he motioned a hoof to one of the wagons. She followed to where the wagon was positioned, the front end of the wagon pulling forward to reveal a flat surface. Shadow Hunter came forward and pulled out a map, spreading the paper out upon the smooth surface. Silverwing gazed at the map and saw it was a large expanse of the outskirts of Prancy and the outlying villages. The map was detailed in its description of its roads, fields and woods, and she was able to get a good picture of the amount of travel they had for the past few weeks.

“At best estimate, this is where we are on the map,” Shadow Hunter said, placing a hoof onto the map that was close to the mountains. “From here, we are at least three days ride to the mountains, and we should be able to begin our search for your brother,” he said.

Silverwing nodded, taking in the good news. They were closer than ever in getting to him, and she hoped and prayed that the Gryphons had not taken him over the mountains and into the Gryphon lands.

“Are there any villages from here to the mountains?” she inquired.

Shadow Hunter scrunched his nose in thought. It took him a few moments before he placed his hoof once again on the map. “This map is old, but there is one village I know of that is between us and the High Talon Mountains,” he said, tapping an area that was right in front of their path. “It’s at least a day and half ride to reach, yet I doubt there would be anypony there. Considering how close they are to the borders...” he explained.

Silverwing nodded. “If we reach there by tonight, we can settle there and gather our bearings. Might even consider plans for how we might find their encampment,” she said.

Shadow Hunter placed a hoof onto his chin, pondering over the possibilities. “With the village as our base, we can scout ahead with our pegasus and find any enemy griffons who might patrol the areas. But the two main concerns are the weather and their patrols,” he said, turning away from the map to look at the mountains ahead of them. Silverwing followed and cast her gaze at the mountains, which seemed all the more intimidating up close.

“The closer we get, the more likely chances that the enemy will spot us before we reach the mountains. The weather, on the other hoof, is a danger to both us and the enemy.” He turned to view the north, where the storm clouds gathered under a fierce darkness. “We’ve been fortunate that the winter storms have not fully stopped us, but even still I fear we might get caught in a blizzard if we don’t proceed,” he said, his ears folding back at the outcome.

“I’m sure we can manage it. We’ve been pretty lucky so far,” she said.

Shadow Hunter turned to her with a impassive expression. “Luck eventually runs out, Captain,” he said.

Silverwing gave him a small smile. “I’ll need to check in with Hammer and see how he is recuperating. Afterwards, we can move out,” she said, and Shadow Hunter nodded to her.

She left his side and went to the next wagon over. Near the side of the wagon she spotted Hammer resting comfortable on the ground while Cottontail was removing the bandages off his shoulder, with Swift Leaf standing by with assistance.

“How does he fare?” she asked, as Cottontail finished unraveling the last of the bandages. Hammer seethed a little as his skin was exposed to the cold air around them. Cottontail, not turning her attention to Silverwing, examined the wound before her.

“The scar has healed somewhat over the past few weeks,” she said, not directly speaking to Silverwing, but instead focusing on Hammer’s wound. “The tissues on his skin have recovered nicely. However, it will require more time to heal up on its own,” she said as she gestured to Swift Leaf. Her companion nodded, drawing a vial from a small bag and opening it. She then poured the liquid over Cottontail’s hooves as the healer then pressed the ointment firmly on Hammer’s left shoulder. He cringed slightly from the contact, but eased into it as the healer began to give a massage over the area. Silverwing watched as she traced her hooves over the wound, giving every little space the attention it needed before pressing and pushing onto the muscles. Hammer felt relaxed as she did this routine for several minutes, making sure his wounded shoulder was fully lathered with the healing ointment before grabbing a bandage from her bag.

“Now, this should help for a few days, but if ever you need a new bandage or if something is bothering you, then come see me.” she said, wrapping the bandage around his shoulder and ensuring it was tight against his body.

“Will do,” he replied, watching Cottontail finishing tying the end of the cloth before standing up to stretch.

“Silverwing,” Cottontail said, giving her a bow as her long golden mane followed. Silverwing nodded in turn, giving the two Cervines their leave. Once the Cervines left, Silverwing paid her attention to Hammer, who was raising himself up to see her face to face.

“Hammer, are you doing well?” she asked. Hammer gave a quick stretch of his legs before turning to speak to her.

“I’m alright, Silverwing. Just a little sore is all,” he said, giving a reassuring nod to her. She smiled with him, knowing that his shoulder was not going to cause problems. However, deep down in her heart, she really did want to ensure that he was alright and that there were going to be no difficulties for him.

“Silverwing, are you alright?” he asked after she stared at him longer than she should. She cleared her throat and looked at the other guards around her.

“I’m fine, Hammer. Just a little tired,” she said, turning back to his gaze. “We will be moving out soon. Just wanted to be sure how you were holding up,” she said. She was about to leave, but stopped when she felt a hoof on her shoulder.

“Silverwing,” Hammer said, casting a worried glance to her. “I know how much your brother means to you, but you have been pushing the company hard these past few days. I just want to let you know that I’m here for you if you need somepony to speak to,” he said, causing her to hide a smile from him.

She turned to look at him, seeing that caring side that he always had. His personality, his kindness and concern for others. These were things that made Silverwing like him even more. She sighed and faced him, showing off the concealed smile.

“Oh Hammer, you don’t know how much that means…”

“Oi, what are you doing!?” one of the fellow guards spoke out, breaking the moment that had settled between them.

“Oh, what now?” she snapped irritably, her sleep-deprived body turning to face what was starting the commotion. She moved ahead to the edge of the wagons and saw a number of ponies gathered there. When she got closer, she saw Brutus breaking up snow and making a pile near the edge of the wagon train.

“What is he doing?” Hammer asked, standing by her side as the rest of the guard was baffled by what they saw.

“Brutus? What’s gotten into you?” Silverwing asked, as the Diamond Dog continued to churn up more snow and make a large pile that already stood a good few feet into the air. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Diamond Dogs were known for digging tunnels and large burrows, yet seeing his speed and action that he was doing was quite a sight to see.

“What is happening here?” Strong Oak called out, his regiment of rangers following close behind and having their weapons at the ready.

“Brutus dig, must dig. Protect!” he said, digging deep, pulling up large chunks of snow and even dirt into the air, debris flying everywhere and almost landing near where they were. Deciding to get to the bottom of this, Silverwing took a step forward and stood by him as he did his work.

“Brutus, tell me why? Why are you digging a hole?” she asked, keeping her words calm yet making sure that he was attentive to her words.

“No, not hole. Wall, must build! Quickly!” he said, throwing more dirt and snow onto the makeshift wall. Sensing that the others may act against him, she quickly grabbed at his shoulder and he froze on the spot. He turned to see her, his blue eyes were wide and his ears were flat against his head.

“Why are you building the wall? Why are you protecting?” she asked, keeping his focus on her as she spoke.

“You don’t hear do you?” he said, staring at the throng of ponies and cervine who have gathered. They were all perplexed by his actions, and yet he was far more unsettled then they were.

“Silverwing, there is no wind.” he said, quickly turning back to his work but Silverwing held him back.

“What do you mean there is no wind? I felt wind from the south and…” she stopped speaking. She flicked her ear upward and stared at the company. There manes were still and the capes were steady. She was certain that there was wind coming from the south mere moments ago, now there was none. She turned to Brutus, seeking an answer, but his attention soon turned to the north. His eyes widened in horror and he gave out a long howl into the sky.

“What’s he doing?”

“Is he calling for help?”

“Were we lead into a trap?!”

The voices of her guards and allies began to question, preparing themselves for what was to come. Silverwing followed Brutus’s gaze to the north, curious as to what was causing him distress. It was then that she finally understood at what Brutus was afraid.

In the northern skies, the storm that was far away was barreling right towards them.

“Impossible,” she said under her breath. “The blizzard was miles away, it couldn’t get here this fast! That’s not natural!” she said, standing up as she watched the wall of dark clouds and snow rushing towards them. The massive wall of the storm had covered the entire landscape, and wind was slowly blowing from the north and picking up speed. Snow whipped in the air as winds were picking up and causing the company to finally stare up at the snowstorm above them. Silverwing looked down at Brutus, who had stopped digging and hunkered down as best he could, covering his head and closing his eyes.

Realization hit Silverwing as she turned to scream out.

“Everypony! Brace yourselves!” she yelled, just as the first gale of wind struck at them, knocking several ponies and cervine off their hooves. Silverwing was pushed back a few feet and raised a wing to shield herself from the blast. She looked out and saw the storm was coming towards them, the clouds moving and tumbling at them like an avalanche down a mountain. She turned as everypony tried to huddle up and withstand the coming blast. Silverwing rushed to them, hoping to get with them before the next blast would hit. She watched as the wave of snow was barreling towards them and she couldn’t reach the circle in time.

The moment the torrent hit everything was deafening.

High winds struck the company, and the blizzard was upon them with all its fury. A few ponies screamed out as the tempest flung a few helpless individuals off the ground. Silverwing was among the few that was flung into the air. With her wings open, she tried to glide herself back down to the ground. However, an up current forced her to spin wildly in the air before crashing hard onto the snow. She gasped for breath, feeling the wind coming at her from all sides. Looking up, she witnessed many of her companions on the ground and a few landing haphazardly in the snow. Ponies scrambled for cover and others began to call out for their friends. It was a whole mess of confusion and panic as the storm swirled around them.

Out of all the winter storms they’ve endured thus far, this one was the worst by far. And it was only just beginning.

“Silverwing!” Hammer called out her name, rushing to her side to lift her up. She felt another pair of hooves grab her and she saw Strong Oak next to her side.

“We must seek shelter, or the storm will consume us!” Strong Oak said, casting a gaze at his rangers as they helped the wounded and stragglers off their feet. Knowing what must be done, Silverwing raised her voice into the air so that all may hear her.

“Everypony, make camp! Circle the wagons and make sure everypony is accounted for! We have a long night ahead of us, now get to it!” she called out as her company did what was commanded.

She could only hope they would survive the long night to come.

***

Quicksilver was solid as a statue.

His body ached from the pain and suffering that he continued to endure. His body felt frozen from the cold, and his breathing remained deep and slow. The rotten food that had struck him have either fallen off or the juices have frozen over, making his coat a sticky mess. The small crack on the head by the rock had also frozen over, yet he still felt some of the blood still flowing down. However, despite the hardships, against the odds, Quicksilver was still holding strong and holding the wooden plank upon his wings.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, be it be for an thirty minutes to two hours or maybe even more. However, he was still managing to survive and endure his trail.

Since he had been standing there and to this time, much was happening within the encampment and the barracks. The Nomad Gryphons scurried their belongings and entering the barracks inside. Some clamor broke out among the pack, most likely trying to get one of the better spots within the barrack. After a while, the Gryphons had settled inside and some didn’t come out right away, more likely resting there frigid bodies next to the warmth of the chimney inside.

He kept thinking about a fire right now, and the only one’s closest to him were two small fires that surrounded him. They were built under orders from the Colonel. They barely gave off any flames, and yet the heat was enough to keep him awake. Sharp Beak wanted to ensure that he had suffer just enough to be begging for relief.

His guard, which was suppose to watch over him, had changed off. There were four that had left their post because they were too bored or cold. The first one had waited for an hour or so before calling in one of his companions to take his place. The second went and asked two separate gryphons to help keep watch while he went off to get warmed up. The last two bullied a young blood Nomad into watching their post while they went off to go eating.

It seemed that many of the Gryphons simply didn’t want to do their jobs.

Quicksilver would occasionally cast a weak glance around the encampment. The camp looked so much smaller now, almost barren since most of the tents have been moved out. The only remaining ones were those that belonged to the Nobles and the mess tent. The Nobles either refused outright to stay in the barracks or weren’t given a chance to bring there things inside. It seemed that Sharp Beak didn’t want them to be mingled with birds he didn’t trust.

Quicksilver was not the only one who continued to suffer; the thestrals were still working. He saw most of the males carry heavy equipment and gear for the Nomad Gryphons whilst the females and youth cleaned up any debris that got inside. They did this for several hours, as Gryphons went to and from to bring any of their salvage or gear that was kept outside. He would see Nightshade Moon coming to and from the barracks, lifting the heavy materials from weapon racks to armor for the nomads. On occasion, he would stare out to see Quicksilver, only to quickly get back to work. He felt bad for him, but there was not much he could do or what Nightshade could for his people.

They were all just tools to that forsaken Colonel.

Quicksilver took a shaky breath, watching mist come out of his mouth from the cold. He blinked once and saw that the young blood was not the only companion.

He cast a small glance and saw that all of the minotaurs had surrounded the two of them.

Earlier, the minotaurs had been busy with a few tasks for the Nomads. They brought in some more lumber from outside and chopped up the wood so that it was used for the fires. Once that was done, they were tasked in helping dig up a sizeable area that was close to the barracks. They worked in roughly the same area that he did as many weeks passed, but this time they were making what appeared to be groundwork of some kind. He wasn't sure if Sharp Beak was going to build a new building or make some other use for the land, but it only made Quicksilver wonder. After what took them for about an hour or so to finish, the Minotaurs had no other task to complete. It was then that Ironhide, the leader of the minotaurs, had saw what Quicksilver has been put up to and came over to see. He and his minotaurs sat cross legged and watched over him, occasionally giving off a chant of encouragement by saying the last of his name, Silver.

He didn’t know what their motives behind this, but he had a hunch that they wanted to see if he would make it through to the end.

Another deep breath passed him, and his body shuddered from the amount of stress on his wings. He shook his head to keep himself focus, his eyes looking at the gryphon in front of him. The young blood looked youthful, his feathers less pristine than the older Nomads. His fur was brown with a dull orange feathers, with a few white feathers in between. He had light blue eyes, which did compliment his feathers, but perhaps, if he survived this war, his feathers would be more flawless. The youth held onto the crossbow at an angle, not at all pointing at Quicksilver. Instead, he looked wanting to relax, and yet ready to take up arms at a moments notice. However, what Quicksilver really saw was that the youth had a look of pity. He could tell in his eyes, how they looked at him and seemed uncomfortable doing this. He also looked shamed, picking on a weak opponent or treating a soldier less than him.

The youth. Always eager to go to war, but once they get into it, they realize how horrible war really is.

“Well, I wonder how the cripple is doing?” A familiar colonel spoke out, causing the youth to scramble and make himself presentable. Sharp Beak walked forward and gave a look to his guard before turning to Quicksilver. Sharp Beak had a large grin on his face, enjoying seeing his prey suffer. “You seem to fail to die yet. You still continue to amaze me…” He paused and did a double take on his guard.

“Where’s the guard that I assigned, and who the pluck are you?!” he demanded.

“Sir, my name is Hans Stormcloud. I don’t know where the original guard is. The two guards before me bullied me to stand watch,” the youth stammered.

Sharp Beak glared at him, before sighing in annoyance. “I’ll flog that lazy clod when I see him,” he muttered before turning to look at Quicksilver.

“Why is your weapon not aiming at the prisoner?’ he asked, but it sounded more demanding.

“Well sir... I-,” he said hesitantly but was cut off by Sharp Beak, who seized the crossbow out of the young bloods talons.

“Oh, cease your impertinence, you fledgling!” he said, aiming the crossbow straight at Quicksilver. “If there's one thing you need to learn, it’s to follow orders and not second guess or question your superiors!” he said, firing the crossbow and the bolt striking into the snow in front of Quicksilver. His eyes widened in surprise, looking down at the small bolt that was near inches to his hooves. He looked back up at Sharp Beak, who came forward and yanked the bolt from out of the ground. He then turned back to the young blood, who looked ashamed of his actions, but also didn’t want to look him in the eye.

“Stormcloud...That’s a common surname. I always hated it. Too plain, borderline tedious,” he said. “Tell me, how long have you been standing here, Hans Stormcloud?”

“I’ve been standing here for about thirty minutes, sir. I don’t know how long the others have stayed.” Hans said it so fast and garbled that Sharp Beak snarled at him.

“Speak properly, you adolescent urchin! What is it that your trying to say!?” Sharp Beak grabbed the chest feathers of Hans and pulled him close to him, whilst the young blood was petrified at what the Colonel would do.

“Five hours and twenty eight minutes, to be precise.” Felix’s voice was heard behind the minotaurs. Quicksilver looked up and saw the Arch Gryphon moving towards them, the minotaurs standing up and allowing him passage.

“What did you say?!” Sharp Beak asked, doubt rising in his voice and letting go of the young blood from his talons.

“Quicksilver has been there since you have placed him here. I’ve kept close attention upon every minute to every hour that has passed. Quicksilver has kept his equilibrium ever since, with each of your guards leaving out of sheer boredom or because they believed that he could not pull it off,” he said, lifting a small hourglass. It was the size of his whole claw, its sand dripping at a steady rate. Felix observed for but a moment before turning back to the disgruntled Colonel. “Quicksilver now has thirty minutes left before he will be relieved of this task that you forced upon him,” he explained, causing the exasperated Colonel to gaze upon him much confounded state. Sharp Beak turned his glare upon Quicksilver, who eagerly gave a small smile.

Almost over… It is almost over, Quicksilver thought to himself, sheer jubilation gripping his mind that he would finally be rid of this heavy burden on his shoulders. Sharp Beak flared his nostrils and forced the crossbow back into the young blood’s claws, the latter much confused over his leader’s behavior.

“Remember, if he drops it, shoot him!” he ordered, sitting upon the ground and both of his arms folded, watching Quicksilver at every move he makes.

Quicksilver’s looked at the Colonel, seeing the frustration in his eyes. He wanted so much for him to fail, and despite all the odds he was still standing. His breath remained steady, trying to keep himself focused at the task at hoof. His wings felt so sore, numbed by the pain and cold. He feared he couldn’t feel them, that every moment that he spent holding this wood he felt his wings drained. He never could see his wings, due to his body stationed the way it is; however, he knew that any slight movement to see would no doubt unbalance the wood and may bring him to a swift end. His only hope now was to continue to hold out for as long as he can, and somehow pass Sharp Beak’s punishment.

Quicksilver looked past Sharp Beak and back to Felix, who held the hour glass in his claw. The sand ticked away, dropping at a steady rate. He wondered if by some miracle the glass would widen up and allow the sand to pass through more swiftly. He closed his eyes, and he could only imagine the last of the sands finally seeing their descent.

“The prisoner is still alive?”

“He’s really beating the record?”

“I thought he would surely be dead?”

“His body is still shaking, can you see? He doesn't have much strength left in him.”

Quicksilver could hear multiple voices speak at once, and he reopened his eyes to face the onlookers of the camp’s inhabitants. The Gryphons had gathered to see him, some standing next to the Minotaurs to get a good look, and a few ascending into the air to watch from above. Quicksilver cast his gaze about them, all of them staring at him with fascination, perplexity, and some with hopeful expressions. The few older Nomad gryphons were stunned by the sight, and they were all filled with much envy at what he was doing. The younger Nomads, however, were more eager for him to succeed.

He even noticed a few placing bets and handing off pouches of coins to their companions.

The Noble Gryphons, which stood behind Felix, watched on with much intrigue. He even noticed Gretchen amongst them, and his focus was on her. She had cleaned herself up from earlier, and she showed much concern over his condition. Her eyes would occasionally dart over to a part of his body or his wings, checking to see how he was holding out. Eventually, they would lock eyes for the briefest of moments and Quicksilver can feel the hope was barely in reach.

Ten more minutes passed. Every Gryphon and Minotaur was silent, and the only movement was the snow that fell from the heavens. They all waited for baited breath; uncertainty, hopefulness, anger were all present among the throng. Quicksilver would hear a voice or two among the mass, some seeking ill will against him or some saying he was going to make it. He did hear a few words of compassion, encouraging him to to hold on. There were a few opposing voices that chastised their companions, but they were overwhelmingly out voiced by the supporters. Quicksilver turned to Sharp Beak and wants to see what he was reacting.

What he saw was priceless.

Sharp Beak had his arms folded and his right back leg was bouncing up and down. Anxiety was coursing through him, but also, by the looks of it, a hint of concern. He looked angry and he snarled his beak while watching him. He knew that with every minute that passed, he would fail in his task of breaking him. Quicksilver, despite the pain and numbness, was holding out far longer than he had anticipated. Quicksilver gave a smile to him, the kind of smile when knowing he would be the victor and his adversary would be forced to admit defeat.

Sharp Beak snarl turn to a low growl, but he remained where he was.

Five more minutes passed. The Colonel continued to grow more frustrated. The veins on his face were visible, and clear rage was in his eyes. Defeat was almost certain for him, yet despite this, what Quicksilver saw next showed the determination that Sharp Back had.

He was not going to be surpassed by a lowlife equine.

In full motion, Sharp Beak raised himself onto his all fours and began walking. He seized the crossbow from the young blood’s talons and fired the weapon into the back of Quicksilver’s left leg.

The sudden pain reinvigorated his senses and Quicksilver gritted his teeth in obvious agony. A loud groan escaped him as he looked up into the sky in reaction to it. He bit his inner cheek, just so that he wouldn’t scream out from the pain.

The Gryphons were in a uproar in both condemnation and thrill. Only the older Nomads did the latter; overall, the other Gryphons decried the action.

“Have you no honor?!” Felix called out, beating his wings outward in aggression. “You would even deny him any respite!” He took a step forward, his staff raised to challenge him. Before he could reach him, he was blocked by Black Talon, the corpulent Gryphon bearing a razor dagger pointed at the Arch Gryphons throat.

“You would do well to silence your pathetic grievances over him. This equine deserves what justice demands!” Sharp Beak said, reloading another bolt into the groove.

“You’re a damn coward is what you are!” Gretchen yelled out, stepping forward until she was beak to beak with Black Talon. “ All you want to do is force him to beg for you to kill him,” she said.

The colonel chuckled at her remark, reveling in what he had performed.

“You’re precisely correct, my dear,” Sharp Beak said, taking a long walk to the other side of Quicksilver. “And if you don’t want both sides to spill bloodshed amongst ourselves, then you will stay your tongue!”

On his end, Quicksilver was breathing short quick breaths, trying his best to steady himself and hold the wood up for dear life. He kept his gaze forward, meeting the eyes of those who wished for him to succeed. Sharp Beak was not backing down from his threat as a few of his older companions had drawn their weapons and made a circle around them, making a shield wall that separated the rest of the Gryphons and Sharp Beak. Quicksilver saw much concern etched in both Felix and Gretchen’s faces. They both knew what was at stake, and they remained where they were. The minotaurs, regardless of all the excitement, remained where they were, still silent and watching.

Another five minutes passed. A few audible mumbles were spoken from the gryphons, wondering how much time they believed Quicksilver had. Quicksilver didn’t much care to hear their words; his body was already in overdrive and was using the last bit of endurance just to keep himself up. He still felt the bolt in his back left leg, twitching and sending pulses throughout his body. He was shaking considerably from both the wound and cold, and he felt blood flowing through the cold regions of his legs, forcing his body to keep standing. His mind was also on full alert, forcing him to ignore the wound and keep himself from howling in pain. If he didn’t, he’d be killed then and there.

He was able to last another few minutes and retain his posture. However, the sound of a crossbow clicking behind him made him freeze in place and another bolt struck him behind his forward right leg.

Quicksilver dipped forward, his body feeling the weight of the wood slanted on his right side. He was forced to prop up his right shoulder, just so that he wouldn’t drop it. His body was screaming to let go of the wood and see to his injuries, yet he still wouldn’t move. He continued to bite his inner cheek, and he felt the taste of blood in his own mouth. He held the awkward position, the length of the wood resting both on his right shoulder and left wing. He felt his body strain from the sudden movement and he lost all of his vigour and was exhausted to the core.

Yet he kept going, despite the position he was in. He was still holding the wood up.

A few more cries of outrage came from the Noble Gryphons, and even a few Nomads both young and old demanded him to stop. Yet their cries fell on deaf ears, and Sharp Beak was not going to relent his torture.

“It seems you’re still holding the wood, but there is one thing that is bothering me...” he said with much menace in his voice. Quicksilver dared to look back on his right side, watching the Colonel move forward until he was standing by his side. Sharp Beak eyed his right wing, free from the burden of the wood and stuck out in display for him. Sharp Beak‘s eyes seemed to glow much malice and contempt, the mechanism of his mind twisting into some game that he would indulge in.

“A single wing. Perfect in its form. Ready for flight. And above all, it makes one prestigious when flying over all others,” he said, tracing his talons onto his sensitive wings. He shuddered from the touch, helpless to the fact that Sharp Beak would do anything to get what he wants, and that was to see him suffer. Sharp Beak smiled as he seized the end of Quicksilver’s wing and extended to its fullest extent.

“No use for a cripple like you.” In one swift motion, he brought his left claw down and broke the wing in two.

It was the final push that forced Quicksilver to unleash all of his held back torment.

“Geaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!” Quicksilver bellowed from the initial pain. His head lowered to a new low, his mane barely touching the snow as he hollered out in agony. His scream was so loud that it startled the Nomads that were guarding Sharp Beak and forcing them to turn to see him. He drew for a short breath, only to scream out and empty out his lungs. He felt his right wing released and it hanged off his side of his body. After the initial moment of screaming, he made a sound that sounded between a scream and sobbing.

“Ah, yes, that’s the sound I’m looking for,” Sharp Beak said, striding over to the front of Quicksilver’s peripheral vision. Quicksilver continued to remain in his state, his cries never seized in volume and he failed to stifle the tears flowing freely down his muzzle. From his position, he could see his right wing dangle like a broken branch. His left wing was no different, and the bandages were undone and swayed from his wounded wing. He could also see the blood trails from his legs, the bolts still embedded deep in the flesh. He closed his eyes, still vehemently screaming out from the pain from everything that is affecting him.

As he closed his eyes, his mind began flashing images of those who shared the same experience. The Gryphons who died before he came to this place.

“Why are you doing this!?”

“I don’t want to go out like this!

“I don’t want to die!”

Voices of the Gryphons that Sharp Beak tortured, the ones that once were his companions. All dead after they disobeyed or left their post. Memories of them since his capture began to resurface, and he remembered many of them in vivid detail of how they died. He didn’t know why he kept recalling them now; maybe it was the pain that connected them in some way.

Quicksilver opened his eyes, his tears still flowing and making a small puddle in front of him, and he gave short quick breaths in an attempt to breath normally. What came out was more of a wheeze and a whimper. Sharp Beak stood over him, watching over his state of torture and gave a inward chuckle.

“Finally, you see the light, Equine. You’re weak,” he berated. “You and your kind have always been frail to the outside world. You will always be brought down by the strong-willed and the determination of greater beings. Because of your frailty, it is the reason the strong will always prevail over.”

“You’re a fiend, Sharp Beak! Have you no honor left in you?” Felix spoke out, yet Quicksilver could not lift his head to meet him. His body was still locked in place, still holding the wood for dear life and the torment was ever enduring.

“I would take that as a compliment, Felix. However, one must do ruthless things in order to get what they want. In this case, forcing one to do the other’s bidding,” Sharp Beak retorted. Quicksilver felt a small gust of wind from wings opening up.

“Don’t you twist my words. Your philosophy is dealing nothing but torment on your enemies and an Iron claw over your subjects and comrades. Power is all that consumes your wretched soul. You are filled with vagaries and lies and you know it,” he said.

Sharp Beak only laughed.

“I know when I am in the right, Arch Gryphon. Once this is over, you will see the full extent of my power!” he said in a more threatening tone. Quicksilver noticed his crossbow raised from his vision. A single sound of the crossbow unleashed and a sudden impact was heard, followed by a cry of agony. Quicksilver dared to look up, and he saw Felix on the ground. He clutched his right shoulder, the bolt deep inside. Noble Gryphons brandished their weapons, ready for a fight. Yet Gretchen unfurled her wings in some authority, halting them in the process. She immediately went to Felix’s side, checking the wound that Sharp Beak gave.

“That is but a taste of what I will do, of the power I hold here,” he said, turning to Quicksilver and bending down low enough to meet him in the eye.

“Your friend’s little hourglass is almost up. You’ve got roughly a few minutes left before the last grains of sand fall. Although, there is always a rule to this,” he said, leaning in closer so that Quicksilver could see the sinister look in his eyes. “If you don’t get yourself to stand up, then you will be shot down and used for target practice by my gryphons.”

Quicksilver’s eyes widened in alarm, his heart rate quickening as a result.

“However, I can forgo that little tibbit for my Gryphons if you but bend the knee,” he said, again offering his ultimatum. He would be shamed and humiliated if only to be spared. Yet, he knew that if he did there was no doubt in his mind that Sharp Beak would be putting him through another arduous task or place him in another precarious and tortuous ritual of his. He turned his gaze towards Gretchen and Felix, who were both occupied. However, they did spare a glance of concern when Felix mentioned his final offer. Quicksilver felt a talon on his chin and he soon stared straight into Sharp Beak‘s eyes. He gave a small tsking noise while holding him there, almost looking disappointed by what Quicksilver did.

“They won’t help you this time. Just do what I say, and I’ll end your suffering,” he said, coaxing him to submit to his will. Sharp Beak drew his talon away, placing his claw onto the crossbow and aiming straight at his head. “I start deciding now.”

Quicksilver life seemed to flash before his eyes, staring down the groove of the crossbow aimed at him. His parents first came to mind, thinking of the small wonderful times that he had with them. The small walks in the village, the laughter from neighbors, and the small jubilation of peace from everypony. Then immediately seeing the war take hold of Equestria and his parents were gone.

However, despite this loss, he still had his sister, Silverwing. Surviving out there, somewhere. Not knowing if she is back in Prancy or was on the front lines and trying to catch the warmth of the fire. Memories of his sister flooded through him, and all he could think about was the cherished times they had together and all of the wonderful things they did, both before and during the war.

Then his mind flashed to the Gryphons and a few exceptional ones that stood out.

General Quill for his gruff demeanor yet vast wisdom.

Ebon, for giving him a place of rest but also sheltered him as best he could from Sharp Beak‘s wrath, along with his blood brother Deadeye helped him out of a bind.

Felix for his care and moral anchor.

Even Gretchen. Especially Gretchen.

His thoughts of her surfaced and how she had cared for him during his stay. Despite the harsh words that were said between them, Gretchen was the one who supported him and ensured that he survived in this place.

He couldn’t forgive himself if all of their kindness was for naught.

Quicksilver gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath, rising himself up as best he could.

“What are you doing? Trying to overcome this hurdle? You’re not going to last,” Sharp Beak gestured to him, aiming the crossbow at his head, but keeping his talon off the trigger. Quicksilver groaned inwardly, lifting his back and legs up. However, his strength was all but diminished since starting this and his energy was all on reserves just staying in his position.

However, he would not go down now.

The Gryphons watched with bated breath, watching the equine lift his front left leg off the ground. The appendage wrapped the edge of the wood on his back and all of his weight was pressed onto his front right leg. Quicksilver could feel the tension build up in his muscles, all screaming at him to stop, yet he held out as his muscles tightened even further. His front muscle flexed, his hoof imprinting deeper into the snow. A few audible pops and cracks filled the air from the bones cracking. They were at the breaking point, and he felt that they would give out at any moment. Quicksilver looked down, still holding his position, seeing the vein like blood falling from his leg. His breathing quickened, gaining much needed energy as he began to exert himself to the farthest limit. With a mighty push, he lifted his front leg off the ground and his body swayed upward, his right hoof wrapping quickly around the other side of the lumber.

In his awkward position, he was standing on his two back legs, and was standing on par with some of the gryphons, including Sharp Beak. With all eyes fixated on him, he focus his attention onto the one gryphon he truly hated. With another burst of effort, Quicksilver lifted the lumber off his shoulders and kept it into the air, screaming out in determination with all of his effort.

He had lifted the wood back into the air.

Every Gryphon, Minotaur and Therstal was silent and stared in both awe and shock at what they witness. Gretchen and Felix both stared in wonder at what he was doing, yet they also were unsettled by it. He felt his wings hang off his back, dead weights from the task. Quicksilver screamed from the exertion, the muscles on his neck tensing and feeling the veins bulge from the pressure. Tears streamed down his face, feeling them trickle down his cheeks and muzzle. He let out another cry of anguish and suffering straight at Sharp Beak, still continuing to hold the wood up in the air and above his head. The Colonel was stunned at what he saw.

Quicksilver’s spirit remained unbroken.

Quicksilver took another intake of breath, giving out more pains of torment and staring directly into the Colonel’s eyes. He kept this up for what he thought was a few minutes to what felt like hours, his gaze never leaving him. The torment in his eyes said it all and Sharp Beak noticed this. Because of this, his beak curled into anger and he lowered his talon down on the crossbow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, his talon on the trigger finger. Quicksilver continued to stare in defiance.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he repeated, this time sounding less than confident then before. Quicksilver still ignored him, still staring at him, and showing him the pain that he was going through.

“Stop it!” he screamed, rushing over and slamming the edge of the crossbow straight into Quicksilver’s chest. The impact dropped him to the ground, the lumber falling off to slide a few feet in the snow. He was on his back, his lungs heaving and his body shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sharp Beak standing over him, his crossbow aiming at his head.

However, before he could pull the trigger a large blue paw came over the weapon and crushed the front end of it. Quicksilver looked up to see that Ironhide had stepped in for him.

“What are you doing!?” Sharp Beak roared out in anger.

“Equine Silver has completed task. He no longer need endure your torment,” he spoke.

Sharp Beak seethed in rage at what he was hearing. “He is the enemy! I order you to kill him! Crush his bones! Stomp his skull in!” he demanded, yet Ironhide shook his head.

“Chief Ironhide take order only from strong. Not! Weak! Cowards!” he called out, emphasizing the last few words directly into the Colonel's face. Sharp Beak took a step back and was confounded and humiliated from the direct dialogue. His face was utterly priceless from his pure shock, and Quicksilver cracked a small smile seeing Sharp Beak losing control over the situation.

He let out a few wheezes mixed with laughter into the air as a result.

“You...(gasp) can’t force them. (gasp) You only...(gasp) cause fear,” Quicksilver said, trying to steady his breath. Sharp Beak soon stirred and stared with much venom in his eyes.

“You always kill those...(Gasp) who go against you.”

“Shut up, you plucking bastard!” Sharp Beak threatened, but Quicksilver kept going, defiant to the end.

“Like Golden Wing...(gasp) when all he wanted (gasp) was to see his family!” Quicksilver called out, his voice reaching out so that all may hear.

“Silence, you feckless worm!” he called back, drawing ever closer to him.

“What about Dieter, who you killed because he wanted to ensure his friends were okay?” he said.

Sharp Beak was upon him, seizing his neck with his talons.

“I will have your tongue ripped out and feed it to you!” He practically screamed it to him, but Quicksilver kept going.

“What about Kemmler? You stuck an arrow in his back. Or maybe Friedrich, who died being hanged by your claws!” Quicksilver said, his throat tightening with every passing second.

“Just die, you scum! Just die!” Sharp Beak began pummeling Quicksilver’s head back and forth onto the ground. Quicksilver had no strength to repeal him off, and his mind flashed black and white as he began to lose consciousness.

Yet he still kept giving out names.

“Grun, died by hanging. Alexander, his wings clipped and thrown off a tower. Adalard, who was shot full of arrows!” Quicksilver kept giving out names, remembering those who have fallen by Sharp Beak‘s talons. The Colonel let out a scream of frustration, removing his talons and proceeding to beat Quicksilver. Blow after painful blow was delivered onto his face. His vision turned red and black after the first initial blows, and he took each one in full. He felt blood rush to his muzzle and mouth, breaking out from the punches that was thrown at him. After a few moments of constant pummeling, Sharp Beak stopped to raise his talons into the air. Giving Quicksilver one last name for all to hear.

“You… you killed Franz Stormcloud when he spared my friends and...” He didn’t get to finish as he felt both clenched claws directly onto his face. His vision darkened, and his ears were whistling loudly. His vision began to fade in and out and he watched many wings descending down from up above. He blinked once and saw that Sharp Beak was looking out to the throng of Gryphons that surrounded him. He heard voices speaking out to him and they were all jumbled and he couldn't follow.

“You killed my...” he heard one say, though he mostly heard the ringing in his ears.

“I had a blood brother,” he heard the nearby young blood speak, but it was barely audible. He noticed Hans looking at Sharp Beak in anger. Quicksilver tried to focus on him, but his hearing was gone and all he could see was the young blood spouting off against Sharp Beak. No doubt, he was giving off accusations for what the Colonel did. He lowered his head, staring up into the sky above. His head throbbed and his body was sore beyond belief.

He watched the sky, still seeing dozens of wings high which now began to take shape. He saw Noble Gryphons descending from the whole of the cave, all clad in armor and bearing the mark of the Gryphon claw on their emblems. At the forefront of the flock, he saw the old Gryphon.

General Quill had returned.

Watching the spectacle above, he gave a small smile and fresh tears came down his face. He then felt something underneath him, and he was soon being pulled up and away from the snow. The something was two large paws from Ironhide, who tenderly picked up his ragged body. His wings dangled behind him, and the bandage now nothing but scraps, and his left front leg hanged off the side of the massive arms. Ironhide carefully held him this way, allowing Quicksilver to have a full view of what was befalling them.

Sharp Beak was surrounded by Noble Gryphons. Muffled voices were all he could hear from the shouting and cursing as the ringing in his ears persisted. General Quill landed before them all, standing directly in front of the Colonel. Several voices spoke out to him, and from what Quicksilver could tell, he got the full message of what had transpired. Then with stout expression he waved his front claw forward and the Nobles seized Sharp Beak where he stood. The Colonel struggled for a brief moment before being subdued and being carried away to parts unknown. The crowds dispersed as Quicksilver felt lightheaded and his body wanting to shut down.

The last images he saw was General Quill staring at him with disbelief and even awe. Felix was taken away to treat his wounded shoulder, while Gretchen raced over to see if Quicksilver was alright. She placed a claw upon his chest, and Quicksilver starred up into her golden eyes. Seeing those caring eyes brought a smile on his face.

He then closed his eyes, and his world turned to darkness.

Author's Note

Hello Everyone! I know it's been awhile since I did this. i'm so sorry about the wait. I plan to get more chapters out soon, but I wanted to get more art pieces for this series. In order are some from the commissions from my favorite artists.

https://www.deviantart.com/dragonfoxgirl/art/Pony-Pillow-Commission-744717282
This was done by Dragonfoxgirl and she is a fantastic artist.
The second art piece was done by the ever magnificent artist Mr.Tiia. I loved this piece so much and it fitted perfectly in my story.
https://www.deviantart.com/mr-tiaa/art/CM-your-shield-755376362
The final art piece was made by FiszFox. Showing the struggle that Quicksilver is going through made this piece stand out.
https://www.deviantart.com/fidzfox/art/Commission-Quicksilver-749141755

Anyway so sorry for the long wait. More chapters will be coming out shortly.

~Broman

The long Night Ahead

Silverwing huddled close to a nearby fire, gathered with the leaders and sub-officers within the company. She saw both Hammer and Anvil next to her, trying to get some warmth among the fire, while Strong Oak and Shadow Hunter were both discussing small matters with their own soldiers. They were all outside, the blizzard still coming down hard on them.

She looked about the camp, which was in a dismal state at best. There were a few tents that were already erected, but the wind was very erratic and threatening to blow them away. They had four wagons stationed around the encampment, yet the fifth furthest one was tipped over, spilling much of the supplies and goods for the company. They had to spend an hour redistributing the supplies to a temporary storage tent until they could find a proper place for them and access the damage.

What’s worse was the blizzard was so thick that it was hard to see five to ten feet in any direction. It was so dark that she could barely see the other fires and torchbearers nearby. Even the nearest fire from them felt it was over a mile away.

Deciding it best to no longer keep silent, she cleared her throat and spoke out.

“Shadow Hunter, what is our current situation? How are we holding up?” she began, which caused everypony else to become quite. The only sound was the constant blizzard around them.

“We lost some of the supplies from the fifth wagon, Captain. Some food was destroyed and a few essentials were scattered in the wind. However, we did manage to salvage what we could,” he said, despite being a little bitter from the cold.

“What of the company?” she asked, not missing a beat.

“All are accounted for, yet there are some injuries. Several broken wings, a few chipped horns, and at least several individuals with broken legs. The wind was unforgiving when it barreled down at us,” he said.

Strong Oak came forward. “My healers are doing their best to heal the wounded, but our own medical supplies must be accounted for. Cottontail is making a count to see if we have enough for them all.”

“I think our more immediate problem is this storm,” Hammer said. A few nods of agreement went through the other officers. “I haven’t seen a blizzard this bad in years.”

“I’ve been through many blizzards in my lifetime,” Shadow Hunter said. “This snowstorm just might be the worse that I’ve seen.”

“Indeed, and with that, we must get everypony warm for the long night ahead,” Silverwing said, causing a few nods of approval from the other officers.

“What are you proposing we do, Captain? The winds are like a tempest on the seas, yet upon the land. The snow on the ground is not helping either; we keep digging for solid ground to pitch our tents, yet the earth is as solid as ice. It's difficult to excavate the floor when there's nearly five feet of snow and ice blocking us,” Charger said while tossing another log into the fire to keep everypony warm.

Silverwing pondered for a moment, her hoof rubbing her chin. Her guard was right that the storm would not let up, and if that was the case, they would be buried by several feet of snow by morning. A small realization came to her while staring at the fire, after it gave a nice audible pop from the crackling wood.

She turned to the rest of the group. “Alright everypony, this is what we should do. We have to cut the number of tents in half, maybe even less for the night,” she explained, which caused a few raised eyebrows and minor protest. Despite the small arguments, she continued. “I know that the less tents we have it would significantly reduce our encampment, due to the number of individuals we have. However, the most important thing we need right now is heat to keep us alive during the night.”

“So how would cutting the number tents we put up be any different?” Anvil asked.

“What I propose is that we share heat with the rest of the company,” she said. A few of her guards looked at her in surprise. “Those that normally bunk together should have extra individuals in their tents. We double or triple up other ponies and Cervines to save heat. The extra blankets and tarps that we brought along will have to be used up as bedding while we hunker down for the cold night ahead,” she explained.

Strong Oak came forward. “It’s a logical explanation. I recall a story of a great warden and his mate having to do exactly as you described it,” he explained. “When the night came, he and his mate were far off from their home and both had to sleep out in the cold. What saved them was by sharing body heat and holding each other during the night. They survived to the next day and were able to travel home,” he explained.

Silverwing raised an eyebrow in interest. “That sounds fascinating, Strong Oak,” she said, chattering her teeth ever so slightly.

The cervine bowed his head in respect. “It is one of our most cherished folk tales, of our Great Prince of the Forest from long ago. It is a life lesson for us from what they had experienced,” he said.

Shadow Hunter then cleared his throat and rubbed a hoof over his shoulder. “Well, if it beats being frozen icicles by morning, then I’m all for it,” he said.

Just then, the wind picked up and blew over them all. Silverwing felt a shudder up her spine as a result, and she saw that everypony around her shared the same feeling.

“Then if everypony has no objections, this matter is settled. Relay your orders to the rest of the others. We won’t have much time, so let’s all hop to it,” she said, dismissing everypony while they they went to spread the message. The ones who stayed behind were Strong Oak, along with Hammer and Anvil. Silverwing looked to Strong Oak to ask him something, but his attention had shifted to both of her soldiers.

“I see that both of you are curious about the story I mentioned?” Strong Oak said, with much stoicism on his face.

Anvil stepped forward. “Actually, just me, sir,” he said, trying to be modest in front of the Cervine.

Strong Oak had a humble expression on his countenance. “What would you like to know?” he replied.

Anvil bore a small smile in appreciation. “Well, I’m currently writing in my journals and I wish to add as much detail as possible into my work. When you mentioned your own story, I thought it might be a good thought to have some insight into Cervine culture and life.”

“I believe that is an excellent suggestion. No doubt that once we make it through our trials, you wish to publish this novel of yours?” he inquired.

His way of words made Anvil look pleased and a little embarrassed at the thought. “I do actually, and getting much needed material for my work from many sources will actually be of great help,” he said. Strong Oak nodded in approval.

Before he continued, however, two Cervine emerged from the thick blizzard and approached them. Silverwing took notice that is was both Cottontail and Swift Leaf.

“We have finished accounting for all of the medical supplies,” Cottontail said, her hooves getting close to the fire for warmth.

“We lost a few of the ointments when the wagon tipped over, but we salvaged what we could,” Swift Leaf added, giving over a list of items that was charted. Strong Oak took the parchment in his hooves and observed the list carefully, scanning each item that was either lost or missing. After giving a small nod, he handed the parchment back.

“It is good to know we didn’t lose too much. And what of the the wounded?” he asked.

“The injured have all been treated, and there were no life-threatening wounds. It will take at least a few days for most of them to heal,” she said.

Strong Oak bowed his head in acknowledgement. He then turned his attention back to Anvil, a small smile ever present on his face.

“This young stallion wishes to know more about our folk tales and culture. Would you two be so kind as to accompany him for the night?” he said. Both of the Cervines smiled and nodded to their leader.

“It would be a pleasure to indulge him on our own history,” Cottontail said, giving a knowing smile to Anvil.

“I have a few folktales that I loved when I was a small fawn. I’m sure you love to hear about them,” Swift Leaf said with a enthusiastic tone. Anvil, confused by the sudden change, looked to Strong Oak for an answer. The leader merely offered a sympathetic smile.

“Forgive me for sending your inquiries onto others, but I have an important matter with Silverwing. I do wish to continue this conversation on a later date,” he said.

“I guess that would be fine,” Anvil said, feeling a little dejected. “I will hold you to it, though.”

Strong Oak gave a nod of understanding. Silverwing watched Anvil trot off with the two Cervines, but was stopped when Hammer grabbed his shoulder, a smug smirk on his face.

“Have fun,” he said, which sounded like an alluring whisper. Anvil’s eyes flashed at his friend, and he gave a solid hit into his right shoulder. Hammer laughed it off as Anvil followed close behind the two Cervines, slight embarrassment emitting off him. Silverwing herself had a small giggle, but it was not noticeable to Hammer or Strong Oak. After composing herself, she turned to face Strong Oak, who’s expression was etched with concern.

“What is wrong, Strong Oak?” she asked.

“If it wasn't obvious enough, our dog friend is missing and I do not like it,” he said, though with no hint of vexation toward the Diamond Dog.

Brutus had disappeared when the first blast of the storm wind came at them. He had dug what appeared to be a wall of snow. After the initial blasts and when the snow came heavily on them, Brutus was no longer in the hole. He had vanished from sight, and her guards found no trace of him among the encampment or the outskirts. She did have time to worry as to where he had gone, but there was no doubt in her mind that the other guards were troubled by his sudden absence, more so with Strong Oak.

There was no doubt that he vehemently disliked Diamond Dogs, since recalling his encounters with them. Compared to everypony else, he was always on edge when Brutus was around, and at the best of times, was always watching him like a hawk. If Brutus did return, she would need to try and settle things between them.

“I’m certain he was scared. I saw it with my own eyes how terrified he was.”

“That does not excuse his disappearance,” Strong Oak said, his tone low and in contempt.

“He warned us about the storm. We just didn’t realize it until it was to late,” she said, speaking in some small defense for Brutus.

Strong Oak shook his head, knocking off some snow that had stuck to his antlers. “Just be careful if he does return. Diamond Dogs would only flee to return later and in greater number,” he said, giving his leave. He headed toward his other companions in the blizzard, no doubt ensuring they stay alert for the Diamond Dog.

Silverwing breathed a heavy sigh; she would have much on her hooves if the Diamond Dog did return.

Why would he leave? she thought to herself.

Her thoughts were deterred when Hammer nudged into her.

“I think we should turn in for the night. It’s getting colder out here,” he said, his teeth chattering slightly from the chilled wind. She hadn't even noticed the cold bothering her; her mind was already full of other worries and responsibilities. She inclined her head to his in agreement.

“Let's make sure the others are cared for, then we shall retire of the night,” she said, the two heading off into the small encampment.

Large tents were being set up around the center of camp, surrounded by the four remaining wagons. The wagons provided cover from some of the strong wind, but it wouldn’t stop the freezing temperatures. Her guard ponies and the Cervine were working together, and some making arrangements at to who would bunk with who for the long night. The equines didn’t seem to mind, although the Cervine were having second thoughts on the matter. She could see that they were troubled by this, seeing as they had been around their own kind and company. During their whole duration of the expedition, they always kept to themselves, the males quartered to their own tents and the females paired in their own.

The Cervine did have their ways when it came to personal luxury and privacy, but they would need to compromise. If they all were to survive the night, they would need to forgo these indulgences.

Silverwing continued to move about the camp, helping where she could or offering a comforting word to some of her soldiers. She did this for at least twenty minutes, ensuring her soldiers got the help they needed. Soon enough, the soldiers were able to get the tents finished. Her soldiers had already begun to turn in for the night, and Silverwing watched the Cervines reluctantly enter with a few equine soldiers.

She even saw Anvil, who was occupied in a thorough debate, alongside both Cottontail and Swift Leaf. He was quickly writing down the notes in his book with a small quill in his mouth, while both discussed with much enthusiasm. The three were very into their discussion, not like what Hammer had suggested earlier.

The three were having a fun discussion, just much different from what Hammer had envisioned.

After another moment of spending time with her guard, she and Hammer went into their tent to rest for the night. They both shook off the white powder that was on their coats, covering the floor in fresh snow. Hammer immediately went into his bed, trying to get warmed up as quickly as possible, while Silverwing was ready to join him. However, before entering her bed, she saw a thick blanket that was all bundled up on her side.

And a small, warm idea crawled into her mind.

“Hammer?” she called his name. He waved a hoof to her in reply.

“Yes?” he muttered, wanting to get as warm as possible. Silverwing rubbed a hoof on her shoulder, unsure how to proceed. She knew what she was thinking was an outlandish idea, but if they were going to stay warm for the night, it would be worth the shot.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, she thought before finding her voice once more.

“Can you move your bed closer to mine, so we can share heat?” she said, in the calmest matter possible. Her mind wondered if she worded the query correctly.

“Sure thing,” he said, giving out a yawn before getting back up. Once up, he did a quick stretch before moving the bed closer to hers. He paused for a moment, lifting his head out to stare at the tent wall. He had a look of listening to a outside conversation. Then the gears in his mind began to turn and his eyes began to focus on her for but a moment and looked back at the wall for clarity and then back again, albeit mildly shocked.

“Are you serious?!” he said, blinking a few times.

She waved her hoof up in defense, trying to recover the situation. “I-I’m sorry Hammer. It’s just that...it’s getting colder, and it’s already feeling like an ice cave in here. I thought it’d be okay to do, and so we can sleep easier at night.”

“I know that, but still that’s really pushing the space between us!” he said, a shade of red appearing on his face.

“You’ve been in my tent for the past three weeks while injured and never once did you complain,” she mentioned, trying but failing to hide a blush on her face as well.

“Yes, and we were in our own separate beds! But being in that close proximity...”

Silverwing gave a tired groan. “Look Hammer, I’m tired as much as you are, and I don’t want to be cold and wet for the rest of the night, so if you’d please just do as I say,” she said, sounding a bit authoritative in her voice.

Hammer blinked in surprise and his ears fell flat on his head. “Are you giving me an order?” he asked with uncertainty.

She gave a scrutinized look. “Do you want me to give an order?” she replied in a tired voice.

Hammer was quiet for a moment, his eyes looking around to try and find something interesting to keep his attention. After a few seconds of silence, he gave a defeated sigh and wordlessly did as he was told.

He pushed his bedroll right next to hers, placing his own pillow in line with her own. Silverwing then moved forward with the bundle blanket alongside both of their separate ones. She then made the ‘large’ bed by placing the large blanket onto the surface first, making a large square over both of their beds. She did the same with their separate blankets, creating a three layered cover for their bed.

After this was done, she was the first to enter in. The blanket was freezing at first due to being in the cold for most of the time, but the added layers were comforting over her body and she rested blissfully on her right side. It wasn't luxurious as a home in Prancy or Canterlot, yet it suited her just fine.

She looked up to Hammer, who was hesitant to enter.

They both had the same thought: they were going to be in a tight embrace together under the sheets.

“Come on,” she offered, albeit with a bit of apprehension in her voice.

Hammer slowly made his way inside. He wriggled his way in, making sure to cover the blankets over the area he opened. He then moved closer onto her right side, his head nearly a foot away from hers. She gave an audible gulp and averted her gaze for the moment.

What Strong Oak said earlier about ‘snuggling up’ was much more awkward and embarrassing than as he described it from his tale.

“So,” Hammer said first, keeping his gaze away from hers, clearly embarrassed at what they were doing.

“So,” she repeated, feeling a rush of heat reach her cheeks and ears. She felt his hooves near close proximity of her own, and she felt his hind leg almost brushing up against hers. She didn’t say anything about it, but she looked up to Hammer, who in turn was looking at her.

“Good night, I guess,” she said, still staring at him. He gave a small nod, but it was subtle to her.

“Good night, Silverwing,” he said slowly, closing his eyes and going to bed.

Silverwing attempted to close her eyes, trying her best to get to bed. However, despite her attempts, she just couldn’t get to sleep. She opened her eyes, staring at Hammer in front of her. Her heart raced a little from being this close to him. She stayed like that for a time staring at him, and occasionally looking about the room deep in thought. The only companion that was awake with her was the wind that persisted through the night.

She had worry on her mind, but it was not of the current situation she and Hammer were in. Her thoughts were more on her brother, Quicksilver.

He was still out there, still in the enemy’s grasp. He could be anywhere in those mountains for all she knew, or he could be on the other side of the high peaks and be already in the deep in the territory of the Griffon Empire. What’s worse, of what she could only comprehend, was that his body might be battered, bruised, or worse tortured by one of the griffons pleasures. He could even be set to some strenuous toil that she could not fathom, or be half dead for all she knew. She closed her eyes, and she only imagined the horrors that he was enduring.

Her mind snapped to focus when she felt a hoof brush against her own. Opening her eyes in a flutter, she turned to look at Hammer. He was still fast asleep, his breathing soft and deep. She looked at him and his sleeping position, seeing that he was resting on his wounded shoulder. She should have checked with him if he could sleep on a comfortable position, but he looked deep in slumber. She felt his hoof brush against her right hoof, and for some reason the touch was enough to keep her mind at ease.

Having him here seemed alright to her. The worries of her brother still lingered, but the small comfort that Hammer gave allowed a little peace on her mind. Memories of Hammer being in her life began to surface in the forefront of her brain. Her cheeks flushed from the thoughts, and out of instinct, her right hoof wrapped around his own.

The small touch was not enough to stir him from his slumber, and he remained fast asleep. Silverwing gave a small smile, feeling relaxed by the small physical touch between them, and she closed her eyes at the warm thoughts. After a while, she soon drifted off to sleep. The two remained in place for the night, the day’s worries put at ease for the night.

Perhaps she would be sleeping soundly tonight.

***

Quicksilver felt pain throughout his body. His eyes were closed as his mind stirred him to be awake. His muscles were drained of any energy, and he felt that any movement would taxed his already strained body. His ears still rang, and he felt slack jawed from the beating he was given. Though, despite that, he was kept calm during this.

He was still alive.

He felt his body resting on something soft, not like the hard ground that he had in Gretchen’s tent. He felt a blanket on his chest, and he felt both of his front legs resting on top of the cloth. Quicksilver felt warmth in the air, and it soothed his weary body. A small light was visible behind his closed eyes, and he noticed a few figures in silhouetted shadows. He squinted his eyes, not opening up directly at first. He felt cold sweat drip off the side of his head, and he shuddered as he felt a strenuous headache on his mind.

He then felt something nice and warm on the side of his cheek, and it caused him to stir more from his tired state.

His blue eyes opened slowly, his vision blurred at first from taking in the sights. His visioned cleared for a moment, and he again felt the warm feeling spread upon his head. The wet fabric was gentle, and it soothed his aches and pains. He stirred again to the source and saw a claw in his field of vision. He stared at it for a moment, and traced the claw up to its owner.

It belonged to Gretchen.

She tended to him, her expression sorrowful as she treated him. He didn’t see it, but he swore he saw that her eyes were red, likely crying her eyes out from something she heard or witnessed. Despite the sadness she bore, a small smile rose up on her when he looked at her. She gently brushed the wet cloth onto his head and gently rubbed the smooth fabric against his temple. The movement was relaxing and Quicksilver blinked slowly, feeling drawn to the touch. She did this several times, his body relaxing under her gentle care. A muffled voice was heard, and he opened his eyes once again and saw Felix was right next to Gretchen.

The Arch Gryphon had his right shoulder bandaged, a small blood stain visible though the fabric. He wondered why he was still up and about, especially since his shoulder was hurt to such extent. Quicksilver then felt a small pinch in his right leg, yet he didn’t feel it much since it felt so numb to him. Tracing his gaze to what Felix was doing, he saw that Felix had a bolt in his claws. His muscles in his right leg reacted, and he groaned a little out from the pain. The Arch Gryphon settled the bolt to the side, and already had a small cloth and dish bowl ready. He immediately began to treat onto the wound, clearing it up as best to his ability.

Quicksilver blinked once more, seeing the two Gryphons tend to him like one of their own. The way they cared for him was far more service then he would normally receive. After a few minutes of them treating the wound, Felix had turned to Gretchen and spoke something to her. She nodded and gave Felix the cloth. He stood up, walking around to Quicksilver’s left side. The Arch Gryphon had a tired look on his expression, but despite that, he worked diligently and began rubbing the warm cloth onto Quicksilvers head.

Quicksilver then felt something prick into the side of his leg, and he turned to Gretchen and looked at what she was doing. He felt another tug onto his fur, and he observed that she had a cotton or maybe silk thread and needle in her talons. She was stitching the cut, ensuring that the wound was sealed tight. He didn’t look at the injury, nor did he care for the numbing feeling in his leg.

His sole focus was on her.

She kept suturing his wound, her task focused on his treatment. Yet he didn't focus on the pain or any of that. For some reason, he wanted to know if she was okay. He still saw that sad expression she bore, and her concentration was on the wound.

After a moment of silence passed, she took notice that he was staring at her once again. Seeing this, her saddened expression changed and she bore a weak smile, even if the gloom remained. She raised a claw and he felt it brushed against his head, and feeling a soft ruffle against his mane. It was a gentle touch, and this feeling comforted him. She then resumed back to her work, and his visioned soon blurred.

His head rested back onto the bed, and sleep already took over him.

***

Silverwing felt so warm under the sheets. Her body and mind were at ease and feeling much bliss of being in such coziness. In a way, she felt as if she was in a warm residence, in utter bliss of being in the safety and comfort of her own home. Her eyes fluttered open from her sleep-tired mind. The first thing she saw was a white fur in front of her face. She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the soft surface, taking in the warmth that it brought.

Wait, the blanket wasn't white... she thought as her mind fully awakened. She opened her eyes to fully see what she was wrapped up in.

Her head was resting right on top of Hammer’s neck.

Her heartbeat rose from its comfortable beat while she grasped at the precarious position she was in. Her head was on Hammer’s neck, just underneath his jaw. Her chest was pressed softly against his body, his forward arms wrapped around in a embrace around her back, keeping her in place from his curled position. She felt her back legs right in between his, and she felt essentially cradled under his strong grip. She madly blushed from the contact, and she was uncertain whether to wake him up and push him aside, or continue to be held in his hooves and be comforted for a little while longer.

Her mind flashed through her head with fantasies of these moments, and one of the images she imagined was coming true before her.

It excited and terrified her at the same time.

She always wondered what is what to be comforted by another pony. She had given hugs to small children and gave a loving embrace to her brother when he needed comfort, but being on the receiving end gave her a whole new experience on her mind. The prospect of being protected, even sheltered in another pony’s arms brought a flutter within her chest. More so with the very pony she liked.

Really liked in fact.

She decided to remain silent, somewhat enjoying the comfort of another pony’s company. Her head rested back onto his neck, her eyes closing to enjoy the moment she had with him. It didn’t last long, for after another minute he began to stir. She opened her eyes and felt his neck lower forward, resting right on the top of her mane. His muzzle brushed against her mane, and he drew a breath of air before sighing right into hair, the action sending shivers down her spine. Her heart raced to the touch, and she was uncertain what to make of the sudden yet tender contact. He mumbled something that she didn’t hear, and she felt his grip tighten but not too much around her body.

In this instance, she felt like a giant doll being held in his arms.

“Ah, Hammer?” she spoke softly yet hesitantly, not enough to stir him, but enough to make his ears turn in her direction. He gave a soft groan, and his head lifted off her mane, smacking his lips in the process. Silverwing lifted her head just enough to stare him in the eye, as he opened his blue eyes to lock eyes with hers. He stared down at her in a sleepy, yet, in a way, loving gaze. He closed his eyes and lowered his head back down on her, but after another moment, his eyes widened and his head lifted up in surprise.

“Silverwing!” he said abruptly, not sure what was going on. He looked down at her and how he was holding her. “W-What are you doing?! Why am I like this?!” he panicked away, his voice in much apprehension.

“I awoke, and I was already like this,” she replied back, feeling him move away from her side. The warmth that she experienced all night started fading away. His face was already red all over his white fur, and he lowered his ears in concern.

“I didn’t do anything wrong to you, did I?” he asked, with much nervousness in his voice.

She shook her head, also giving a small blush in return. “No, you didn’t do anything to me,” she said, looking away and trying to find the nearest thing that interested her.

She was failing in her attempt to be subtle with him.

A silence permeated the room, the two looking away from each other and trying to ignore the embarrassing experience. When the only sound was both of their breathing was getting to them, Silverwing was the first to speak up.

“How are you feeling? Does your shoulder hurt?” she asked, trying to stir the conversation to something else.

Hammer gave a blank stare at her in annoyance. “You’re disregarding our sleep cuddle and trying to change the subject?” he said, already getting to the heart of the problem.

Silverwing stared back, putting much innocence in her next choice of words. “Look, I didn’t do anything the night before. I just woke up, found myself wrapped in your arms and that was it,” she said, making herself as truthful as possible to him.

“Then why didn’t you wake me up the moment you were in that predicament?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I did, but you were fast asleep. I wanted to get your attention, but I was already wrapped up in your arms and couldn’t do anything,” she said, before adding. “What were you doing after the night I went to bed?” Hammer was now on the defensive, and he flared his hooves into the air to get his point across.

“I was fast asleep. I sleep like a log at times, so there was no way that I could have done anything that was beyond both our comfort zones,” he said.

The two stared at each other in silence.

An understanding seemed to breed between them that whatever befall them from last night was that it naturally happened.

The two were quiet for a time, unsure as to how to proceed. Silverwing bore a small blush from the thought, and Hammer had the same feelings as well.

“Can… can we just ignore that this ever happened?” Hammer said, breaking the quiet between them.

Silverwing sighed and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “It will be hard to disregard what happened between us.”

Hammer mumbled for a moment, thinking of a proper response to her conclusion. A second later his ears perked up and his head rose a little.

“Do you hear that?” he said. Now it was Silverwing turn to criticize him.

“Oh, now you’re trying to change the subject?” she said, bearing a huff of amusement. Hammer said nothing, but brought a hoof up to keep her quiet.

“Listen,” he said, standing up and looking up towards the tent entrance. “The wind is not blowing as hard,” he explained.

Silverwing instinctively perked her ears up. She stopped whatever she was about to say and rose herself up to listen to the wind. It was still blowing, yet less so then from the night before. She looked at the tent cover; they didn’t shake nor shuttered from any gusts of wind.

“That’s strange,” she said, gathering her cloak and heading for the tent entrance. Hammer followed, and the two were outside in the middle of the encampment.

What they both saw took their breath away.

A giant wall of snow and ice surrounded them on all sides.

Silverwing blinked once, still thinking it was a dream. The walls themselves were at least ten feet in height, surrounding all of the wagons and tents within the encampment. In a way, it was like walls upon a fort, defending against the elements that barred down on it. Silverwing looked up and saw that the snow still kept coming down, yet the high winds that battered them were blocked by the walls.

It was a miracle that these were up, and no doubt there would be problems if they had awoke to find half the camp buried in snow.

“Silverwing, look,” Hammer said, pointing a hoof towards a large fire in the center of camp. Silverwing cast her eyes and saw a single figure hunched over and resting near the blaze. She recognized the form belonging to Brutus, and she saw a similar spit with a chunk of meat roasting over the fire.

“Brutus!” she called out, moving towards him, Hammer following alongside her. The Diamond Dog perked up from the noise, and he turned his head to face them, a small smile bore on his countenance.

“Morning,” he said, turning towards his meal and ensuring the meat he had was properly given enough heat. Silverwing and Hammer were at his side, many questions running through their heads.

“Where have you been? We were worried about you,” she said.

The Diamond Dog said nothing as he focused on his meal. Silverwing watched as he turned the meat, when she noticed something red on his paws. Upon further inspection, she saw that the paws were raw, seeming to have blisters on each of the digits.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“That is something that we all wish to know,” a voice spoke out, and Silverwing turned to see Strong Oak was right behind them. His expression was stern, and she saw that he his blade had extended from his hoof blade. He raised it up and pointed directly behind Brutus’s head.

“Strong Oak, what are you doing?” Silverwing said. The Cervine leader remained steadfast as he held his blade. Brutus said nothing, but openly showed his paws out to them. It confirmed Silverwing observation that his paws were indeed raw and red.

“Brutus dig wall. That’s all,” he spoke in a calm and collected manner.

“That is a possibility,” Strong Oak said, never once wavering from his position. “Do you intend to trap us, seal off our exits so that you can kill us all?”

Silverwing looked appalled by Strong Oak and his accusation. When they first met Brutus, he was always calm, collected, and even tolerable to the Diamond Dog. But now he was threatening him and almost begged to question of wanting to provoke conflict with him. Silverwing found the whole ordeal absurd, and she stepped forward to stop this.

However, Strong Oak raised a hoof to her, and she stopped in her tracks. Strong Oak looked at her and gave a knowing gaze before turning his attention back on the Diamond Dog.

He wanted her to trust him.

Brutus, stood up and turned to face Strong Oak squarely in the eye.

“Brutus never intended to kill, only protect from storm,” he explained. Standing at full height he seemed more intimidating, yet he didn’t have his weapon nor did he show any signs of aggression. He passively stood his ground, while Strong Oak remained undeterred.

Their voices stirred the camps inhabitants, and soon many of the guards and Cervine all were witnessing the scene. Silverwing wondered what Strong Oak was intending with all of this. Strong Oak took a step forward, his blade nearing Brutus’s neck. The Diamond Dog eyed the blade and back at the Cervine, never once fearing or wavering by the threat.

“Again, Brutus say this. Brutus intend no harm upon equines or Cervine. Brutus helps. Brutus here to stay,” he said.

Strong Oak flared his nostrils and glared at him. “Likely story, but I do not think that you are capable of such a feat. Pray tell, how did you manage to erect such a barrier within the night and without disturbing our rest? No doubt you had help to make this possible,” he said.

Silverwing looked up to Brutus, who’s eyes widened just slightly but didn’t say anything to warrant any threatening appearance. After a moment of silence, Brutus sighed deeply and pounded his back leg into the ground several times.

“Come out, boys. Don’t have to hide,” he said.

Moments later, the ground began to shake. Silverwing looked at the earth and saw ten different mounds began to form around the campfire. Another moment passed and the mounds caved in, the dirt and snow falling off to the side or collapsing into the hole. Not a moment later, several figures began to appear out of the ground, all covered in fur and similar in appearance to Brutus.

Out of each of the holes, a Diamond Dog came out one after another.

What became a few now became ten, then two dozen, then more than she could quickly count appeared in front of them. The camp inhabitants became weary as a horde of Diamond Dogs all gathered in the center of camp. Silverwing watched as some Diamond Dogs shook their heads from the snow they collected, while others stretched and took in their surroundings, not at all appearing hostile to them. Brutus remained were he was, while Strong Oak remained standing, unfazed by the sight of the Diamond Dogs’ presence. Silverwing looked about the camp and saw all of the Diamond Dogs were staring at Brutus, all waiting for a response from him.

“Cooper, report. How is wall?” Brutus asked, his gaze never drifting from Strong Oak’s sight. A large Diamond Dog with bright yellow fur came forward.

“It was a custom job. Real spif work,” he said with a high pitched and nasal-sounding voice compared to Brutus. He also spoke faster and gestured with much enthusiasm.

“Is wall secure?” he said again, this time turning to his pack mate.

Cooper nodded. “Yes, yes. The packed snow is firm yet wind is persistent. Took me and the boys long time to secure base without waking locals.” He gestured to the camp’s inhabitants, who all tried to fathom as to why there were so many Diamond Dogs. Brutus then turned his gaze towards Silverwing, who in turn was wanting in answer in all of this.

“Brutus sorry, Silverwing. Did not intend to lie,” he said.

Silverwing shook her head, trying to understand. “Why do you need to apologize?” she replied.

Brutus remained still. “Brutus lie that pack was killed,” he explained. Silverwing waited, giving the Diamond Dog a chance to continue.

“What you found was half our pack. They were sent away from mother den, to flee south and rejoin our kindred packs. All our women, children, and few warriors. Brutus among them, while the rest of pack was away, to scan region and ensure safety for travel,” he explained, “Diamond Dogs would have digged deep into ground, but pack discovered, by horned ones.” he said.

Silverwing’s mind flashed of the yak they faced back in the village, and she shuddered at the raw power the individual had.

“When pack discovered we traveled top side. Hoping to get out of lands swiftly. We did not intended to be run into ambush,” he said, his ears lowered in shame. The other Diamond Dogs, all lowered their heads and some gave soft howls into the air, moaning their grief into the morning air.

“Horned ones came, slaughtered us all, claimed our wives and pups. What you see is all that’s left of our great pack,” he explained.

Silverwing tried to fathom it all. “So why was it that you didn’t tell us this before? Why hide yourselves until now?” she asked. Brutus gave a soft sigh, and closed his eyes if ashamed.

“We did not know if you would come to harm us. We thought equines and Cervine would kill off pack. Hence why Brutus kept asking if you would kill me.”

That explains much actually, Silverwing thought while Brutus continued.

“When you cared for wellbeing, came to trust me and how we fought against horned one, our goals became mutual. Brutus decide to reveal at proper time, but Strong Oak discovered,” he said, gesturing to the Cervine leader.

Silverwing raised a brow at him and saw that Strong Oak was staring at her. “How did you know?” she asked him.

The Cervine gave a smirk. “Ever see him eat the meat? Did you ask yourself how he managed to get the meat without disturbing the snow outside of the camp?” he asked her.

Silverwing blinked at him and indeed remembered that whenever he was eating, the snow around him was clear and not disturbed by his tracks. Nor did she recall any tracks leading out of the camp or into it.

Strong Oak turned his full attention back onto the Diamond Dog. “When I first noticed this and observed the past few days of him eating, I immediately knew that there had to be more dogs nearby. I merely waited until he would reveal his followers onto us. For there was no way that he could have built the wall without help from his pack.”

Silverwing eyed him and was amazed by how much his tracking skills have been in discovering them all. Strong Oak then pressed into Brutus, the latter remaining unmoved.

“The real question here is why risk yourselves when you could have killed us in our sleep?” he said.

Brutus now stared at him with much intensity, clearly not enjoying the fact that he could betray them. “Brutus would never hurt those that treated him well. Brutus would have truce among you so that we show no aggression to you,” he said.

“Yes, but you need trust to have a truce, and trust is hard to come by nowadays. Especially among former enemies,” he said.

Brutus nodded his head to him. “I trust you,” he said, taking a small step forward and allowing the blade to touch the center of his neck. “Cervine has fears of Diamond dogs. You faced my kind before, yes?” he said.

Strong Oak nodded subtly. “Yes, I faced your kind in Ghastly Gorge, and the numbers were endless like the tide,” he said.

Brutus hummed in understanding and gestured to his pack behind him. “My pack not like those you faced. The enemies of the past are not the same as us in the present. Brutus wishes nothing more then to fight alongside you in the fights to come,” he said.

Silverwing to stepped in and placed a hoof over Strong Oak’s blade.

“To what reason are you fighting, and why fight as equals with us?” she asked.

Brutus’s eyes turned to her with a determined expression. “Vengeance for pack mates slain. Fight for our dead so that they may rest. Brutus and pack will fight with you when the time comes. We have mutual enemy in these lands, and horned ones will not stop till all are claimed and stomped under hoof,” he said.

With that, Strong Oak sheathed his blade, all the while his expression never changed when he stared back at Brutus.

“Make no mistake. If you ever betray us, the last thing you see is my blade.”

Brutus nodded in kind. “And Brutus will no doubt accept his fate, should that ever happen,” he said, his emotion never once changing.

Strong Oak inclined his head ever so slightly, but his gaze never lifted away from Brutus’s eyes. A moment later, as if a spell was lifted, Strong Oak left their side and went to his companions. Wanting to get to the bottom of this, Silverwing seized Strong Oak by the shoulder and stood in front of him.

“You mind telling me what that was about?” she asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He gave a small smile of assurance to her.

“I will tell you when the moments right. Right now, I must tend to my rangers.” he said, and with that he left her where she stood. He was most likely relaying orders to keep on the Diamond Dogs, but there was no doubt in her mind that Brutus and his pack means no harm. But still, why was he showing aggression to them and why hadn't he spoke up about it earlier to her.

As if on cue, Brutus came up to Silverwing and she stared up at him.

“Brutus has a hundred boys in pack. If there is anything we can do, then let us know,” he said, while his packmates began moving about, doing their own things and essentially setting their own camp within the camp.

“I got extra wood for the fire,” one short Diamond Dog spoke.

“Well, hurry up. Freezing tail here,” a larger Diamond Dog said.

“Where should I store my gear?” another Diamond Dog with a confused expression called out.

Silverwing blinked in astonishment. She thought handling one Diamond Dog was easy enough; now, there was a hundred in the pack. She wondered if her nerves could handle this, including her own company, which were taken aback as the Diamond Dogs were already making a home for themselves in the camp.

Returning her gaze back to Brutus, she tried her best to give a reassuring smile, despite of having thought of the Diamond Dogs getting in the way of things. She paused for a moment, when a sudden gust of wind came by and she looked up to the sky and saw the snow coming down much more heavily.

“I thank you, Brutus, for offering help. If possible, can you and your pack shore up the walls so that we don’t get blown away by the storm and make sure the camp is not buried by the snow?” she asked.

Brutus inclined. “It will be done. Brutus will relay orders to pack,” he said, moving away to speak with his ‘boys’ as he called them. Silverwing was left alone with Hammer, as everypony and everything around them continued to move about them.

“So Silverwing,” he asked, making her draw her attention. “Is Brutus the leader of the pack or was he chosen to be one?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s possible their leader died, and the pack looks up to Brutus for guidance,” she said. “Didn’t you notice that Brutus was calm throughout the exchange, and in turn his pack was as well?”

“Yeah, you’re right. They didn’t seem to show any aggression or have any hate with the rest of our company,” he said.

“I guess if they believed that Brutus was not going to do any harm, then they had no reason to take up their arms,” she said.

The moment she said it, a yellow Diamond Dog wearing a blue vest came forward with open arms.“Did one of you say arms?”

The two looked at the new Diamond Dog and blinked in mild surprise. “And you must be?” she asked, to which the Diamond Dog gave a large toothy grin.

“Oh, my manners. Name’s Cooper. I’m considered Brutus’s plus one,” he said with that signature high pitched voice and a toothy smile.

“So what is it that you do then, Cooper?” she asked, trying to be polite with the Diamond Dog.

He gave a hearty laugh. “Well, I’m a number of things really. A drifter with my pack, scavenger of wares, a scout and contriver. You can see the handy work on the wall. Really nice it is.” He gestured to wall with his thumb. His fast paced voice continued to amaze her.

“I see that,” Silverwing said, mildly amused by Cooper’s demeanor. In a way, he resembled a happy go lucky dog.

Before she asked another question, she was stopped when Shadow Hunter came forward. “Captain Silverwing, I checked with the others and they say the storm is going to linger on us for some time. Counting that in days, in fact,” he said.

Silverwing nodded from the news, albeit knowing it was going to set them back tremendously for an unknown amount of time.

“Thank you, Shadow Hunter. Please notify the other officers so that we can formulate a plan to hunker down. If the storm is bad as you say, then we will need to conserve as much resources as possible until it passes,” she said.

Hearing this, Cooper clapped his paws together and drew their attention. “If you going to settle here for a while, then my boys can help. We can scavenge around for any of those green foods you like and scout the grounds if there are any horned ones,” he said.

Silverwing raised a hoof to him. “That is very generous of you, but I think there are other priorities that we-”

“Oh, I see,” Cooper interjected. “I can get started on a latrine pit for ya. You ponies won’t have to worry of freezing your tails off outside the walls once it’s built.”

The three equines blinked at him in surprise, seeing Cooper willing to do such a task (and a very dirty task as that).

“Well, we don’t carry a outdoor privy,” Shadow Hunter mused, drawing a hoof to his chin.

“Then it’s settled!” Cooper said, his massive arms outstretched. “I’ll gather some boys to help. If there are any other things you need, let ole Cooper know,” he said, tail wagging as he wandered off.

The three stood stunned at what they witnessed.

“Well, that’s one problem off the list,” Hammer said, bearing a childish smirk at the happy Diamond Dog.

“They have their uses,” Shadow Hunter added. “I just hope they don’t turn on us the moment they sense something wrong.”

Silverwing nodded, taking in Strong Oak’s words into account. The Diamond Dogs had been in hiding all this time, and no doubt had the means to handle themselves. If they did plan on something, they would have done it already.

And yet, nothing had happened to warrant any threat.

She drew and breathed out into the cold morning air.

“Well, we’ll have to keep watch as much as possible. They have their right in being here for helping build the wall, and they hate the yaks as much as we fear them. They are willing to help us out, so we should make due with what we have. Although there is one thing that makes them stand out,” she said.

Her two companions looked to her. She eyed them both, and a small smile appeared on her face.

“They’re a colorful bunch.”

A Families Foreboding

Quicksilver stirred in his bed, his nightmare unfolding before him. He was strung up next a target, and his body tied down by thick ropes. He tossed and turned, cursing wildly and trying any means to escape his confinement. He watched helplessly as Sharp Beak and a host of Nomad Gryphons held their crossbows and aimed straight at him. He kept resisting, thrashing his body about to find any means of escape. Sharp Beak unleashed his first bolt, yet the bolt didn’t hit his body.

He looked down and saw that his right wing was struck. Severed in two, the limb hanging by a thread.

Quicksilver screamed; his remaining wing was destroyed, and he no longer could fly. He then felt his body sway backwards as the target he was attached to lost its footing, and he fell to the earth, down a large canyon. He spun wildly for a few moments, screaming out in pain and torment. He then looked up and saw Sharp Beak and his kin descending towards him, their crossbows aimed directly at him. He watched in horror as the bolts were sent loose and sailed directly towards him. He screamed out in fear as the bolts riddled holes into his body.

“Wake up,” a gentle voice spoke out to him. Quicksilver roused from his slumber, his vision blurred in the given light. His senses slowly came back to him, his ears flickering to the nearby noise. He took a sniff in the air and smelled food nearby. He swallowed and felt his throat parched. He coughed once for air, and that is when he felt a claw grasp the back of his head.

“Here, drink this,” the feminine voice spoke, placing a cup neck to his lips. Water coursed through him, soothing his dry throat. He took several gracious gulps before he parted ways. He sighed in relief as the claw slowly placed his head back onto the pillow.

He opened his eyes wider, his vision becoming more clear in the light. A silhouette figure was visible on his right, and he blinked once to try and see more clearly. He recognized the familiar red feathers on the Gryphon’s chest and the bright feathers on the hens head.

“Gretchen,” he muttered, his jaw feeling sore. He raised his right hoof over his chest, wanting to rest easy. He felt a bandage wrapped tightly around the limb. His eyes went wide and quickly lifted his head up.

“The bolt is gone!” he said, feeling blood rush to his head and making him dizzy. Her claw was placed on his chest, lowering him back down onto the pillow. He already felt exhaustion take over his body. His limbs felt like paste and he would occasionally feel a twitch.

“Easy, fletching. You’ve been out for quite a while,” Gretchen said, her voice trying to comfort him.

“How long was I out?” he asked rather sluggishly, the muscle memory in his jaw slowly returning to him.

“You were out for three days. Sharp Beak did a number on you after you finished your task,” she explained, allowing Quicksilver to look at her.

“Three days? I thought I was out much longer,” he said. She shook her head at him, giving a reassuring smile.

“We thought you would be out for the count. Felix and I feared you would never wake again.” Quicksilver looked up to the roof of the tent, seeing that it was much more spacious than the one he was accustomed to.

“Where am I?” he asked, not turning his gaze back to her.

“You’re in a medical tent that was made under my uncle’s orders. Don’t worry, you're safe here,” she said, reassuring his fears that no other Gryphon would come to harm him. She then went over to reach for something behind her, allowing Quicksilver to rest his head back on the pillow.

“What of my wings?” he asked, not wanting to wait upon the inevitable.

Gretchen turned to him, holding what appeared to be food in her talons. She looked away for a moment, before turning to face him.

“Your wings have been overused during the duration of Sharp Beak‘s torture. Your right wing is damaged, caused by a break in the wing. Felix used a few of his crystals just to fuze your broken bones back together. Though we don’t know how long it will be to fully heal,” she explained, to which at this time allowed Quicksilver to turn on his side briefly to slowly extend his right wing. Once extended, he looked over to see the damage that has been done.

His right wing was bandaged up, same way as his left was before. It wrapped right around the joint. His eyes widened as he saw that his wing was broken the same way his left was, and fear soon gripped his heart.

He closed his eyes, remembering the vivid details under the punishment he was given. Sharp Beak raising his talons and striking directly onto his wing, smiting with much fury and severing the wing. Quicksilver was visibly shaken as he lowered his wing back to his side.

“I’m never going to fly,” he said, tears beginning to form in his eyes. ” I’m never going to fly,” he repeated, already feeling the dam burst.

“You don’t know that,” Gretchen said, her right talon in the bowl and procuring a small piece of meat. She tore a piece off, the sound of ripping meat hung in the air. She held the small slice in her talons before looking back down to Quicksilver.

“I will never fly again. I do know, “ he lamented, not paying attention to what Gretchen was doing.

“Here, eat this,” she said, placing the meat into his mouth. The meat was dry and settled in between his teeth. No doubt she wanted him to keep his mind off his wings. Instinctively he bit down, but found he could not. He closed his eyes, focusing his attention on the meat itself. He tried biting down, trying to break the piece into smaller sizes.

“Just chew,” he heard her say, while he could not do what was requested. His teeth would not sink in and he struggled to bite down. It hurt his jaw to even clamp down, and it exhausted him to even try. After another few seconds, he just gave up, the piece of meat falling out of his mouth and landing on his neck. He kept breathing heavily, and his jaw hung low.

He felt pathetic that the beating he endured now impeded him to even eat.

He felt the meat removed off his chest, and the sound of crunching could be heard. Opening an eye slightly, he saw Gretchen chewing the meat. He saw that she was staring at him, a disgruntled look bearing on her face. He closed his eyes, the sound of her chewing filled the air. He didn’t care if she ate in front of him, all he wanted to do was to be left alone.

Another crunch filled the air and he felt one of her talons gently seize the lower end of his jaw. It was opened up slightly and he gave little to no resistance. He cracked open eye, wondering what she was doing.

Gretchen? What are- His thoughts ceased when he felt an intrusion in his mouth. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw what caused it.

Gretchen had her mouth in his.

Gretchen!? His mind screamed, trying to grasp in all of the holy Goddess what she was doing. He then felt something course in his mouth and ease in the back of his throat.

It was the meat that he couldn’t chew.

He tried to raise a hoof to her, but found that he could not. Gretchen remained there for a few seconds before removing herself and taking another piece of the dried meat into her mouth. Feeling the contents in his mouth, he instinctively swallowed, the processed food easily going down his throat. He sighed in relief and he looked at Gretchen. She took another piece of meat, chewing at a fast pace. A few more seconds and she wordlessly moved back down and her beak was inside his mouth. This time though, hers was more open and her beak was near his lips. She passed the food once again, the meat effortlessly going into the back of his throat.

Gretchen removed herself once more, allowing him to consume the next bit of food. She was nursing him like how a bird feeds its young. Silverwing would have a laughing fit if she ever saw this. Gretchen was silently chewing into the dry meat, seemingly not bothered at what she was doing. Though he didn’t know what to make of it. In a way it felt more like kissing, although between two different species. He looked up at her, seeing how she does not seem fazed by this. She did pause, however, when her eyes opened up to look at him.

He didn’t realize until now that the tears that were built up in his eyes had started flowing freely.

Gretchen resumed eating a few tiny pieces of the meat, and after a moment of silence, she lowered herself once again, giving the food to him once more. Quicksilver allowed her and offered no resistance to her nurturing care.

Three raps upon a wooden post made Gretchen aware of her surroundings, and she lifted herself up to the noise.

“Come in,” she said, a bit of meat hanging off her beak, though she was quick to take notice and cleaned herself. Quicksilver, slightly dazed by the sudden intrusion into his mouth, raised his head to see who was entering.

“Ah, he is awake,” a familiar raspy voice spoke.

“General?” Quicksilver said, watching the leader walk towards him. The general looked tired, from his unkempt feathers and bleak expression. However, he still held a smile when he saw him. General Quill moved to Gretchen’s side and placed a claw onto her shoulder.

“You’ve been ensuring his care?” he asked. Gretchen nodded and gave a warm smile to her uncle.

“Yes. Felix entrusted me to his care. He’s healed quite well over the past few days.”

She did shove her beak in my mouth, Quicksilver thought. The images never leaving his head.

Possibly for the rest of his life.

“That’s good to know. I hope Felix was able to heal most of his injuries,” he said, casting a concerned gaze over to Quicksilver.

“He said he would be here soon to help in the healing process,” she said. General Quill gave a knowing nod.

“Please go fetch him. I want to ensure that our guest is healed and properly at full strength,” he said, Gretchen bowing her head to him before turning to leave. She did stop, however, with a mournful expression on her face.

“Uncle, I am so sorry,” she said. General Quill turned to her, and his expression changed to a saddened stare. Gretchen stepped forward and lowered her head until her head brushed against his. He did the same, raising a claw past her neck and wrapping it around her head. The two had their eyes closed, and Quicksilver watched the tender moment between them.

What did you lose, General? Quicksilver wondered, watching the two separate and Gretchen leaving them in the tent. Once she was gone, it was only the two of them that remained. General Quill gave a tired sigh staring out at a blank space, and not directly at Quicksilver. He waited for the general to say something, anything to start a conversation. He instead was silent, a heavy breathing was all he heard.

He looked at the general and noticed a little more detail on his countenance. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had bags under his eyes. Possibly he was sleep deprived for a number of days. Most of his pristine feathers were more ragged and dishealved. He also took notice that the general was twitching, his claws being the most visible and shaking at a considerable rate.

Whatever happened these past few days had changed the general.

“Ge-general?” he said, breaking the silence between the two. General Quill blinked once and looked towards him, the saddened expression remaining on his face, but gave a small sad smile to him.

“Ah General, you… um...” He tried to get the words out but couldn’t.

“I know. I look terrible, don’t I?” General Quill said, giving a soft chuckle in between.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he said, to which another small laugh escaped past the general. The general looked to his right, trying to take a steady breath.

“It’s fine if you say that. I’ve had a lot on my mind to keep me up at night,” he explained.

Quicksilver gave him a curious look, but also with some concern.

“What happened, General? What happened while I was out?” he asked, the general giving another laugh before turning to him.

“Where do I even begin?” the general said, the sadness already showing. Quicksilver raised his right hoof to him, albeit only a few inches due to the cast.

“Just take it slow,” he said in a calm voice, while General Quill gave a tired sigh.

“I guess I should start at the beginning,” he said, drawing a breath to continue.

”Of all of the meticulous work that I had to endure over my many years of service, trying to convince an army of twenty thousand to stand down was no easy task.”

“You convinced them all to stand down?’ Quicksilver asked. General Quill, on the other hoof, remained unmoved.

“I didn't say that I was successful. Only partially,” he said, to which Quicksilver lowered himself back down, feeling crestfallen over the general’s words.

“My brigade and I traveled north a few hours from here to a staging area for where the king planned the next invasion,” he said, his monotone voice never changing pitch. “When I arrived, the army was preparing to leave within a week. I walked among the mass of soldiers, and many of them were young recruits. Either barely finishing their training or not even close to performing drills and basics. I hate to admit it, but some were pitiful excuses for soldiers.”

The general turned his head, his gaze not focused on Quicksilver. “I went to the high command, and it turned out that it was none other than the king himself.”

The king was there? Quicksilver blinked in surprise.

“The incompetent king told me that they had waited for me, and that I would be leading alongside him in the fight to come. I told them that I wished to not be in the assault or leading the two divisions into combat. King Bronzeclaw had commanded that I would be leading the charge to retake the city of Prancy,” he said. Quicksilver remained silent but confused by the generals demeanor.

“I needed to get to the bottom of the situation, and the king was not fond of giving out his invasion plan. I went to one of the company captains by the name of Buck Wing. He was a Noble, and was not fond of the invasion. I asked of him of what the invasion had planned and why Bronzeclaw had ordered so many young recruits into the fight. He told me everything, everything that is needed to know and how it sickened me to my stomach. I hated myself for not seeing what King Bronezclaw had in store sooner.

“He was going to send the youngest recruits into the fray. They would be used as a meat shield while the advance soldiers would flank upon the sides.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “There were over five thousand recruits. Ten thousand and twenty five hundred regulars and along with half of the Elite Guard was just less than the quarter of the army. Can you imagine that? He would have send our young boys into a slaughter while his Elite Guard would reap the rewards in claiming the city.”

Quicksilver remained silent, watching General Quill's anger slowly rise.

“After Buck Wing told me the invasion plans, I gathered all of the captains of the army. I urged them and begged for them to listen to reason and that this plan was suicidal, not only for endangering the youngbloods and destroying the future generations of our nation, but how treacherous the winter has brought upon the land.

“A few of the older bastards, a majority of them Nomads, laughed it off, saying I was a senile old fool and they promptly left me. However, I did manage to persuade a few of the Nomads and convinced many of the Nobles who listened to reason. Over the few days of negotiations and compelling arguments, the number of captains for me reached to twenty. With the captains at the side, I confronted the king, explaining the folly of this plan, and how the army will be doomed by the ruined walls of the city of Pracny.” General Quill closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and fumed in frustration.

“The king wouldn’t listen to me, nor to the voices of the other captains.The King, in his good ‘graces’, decided to set an example to the captains that disagreed. By taking every tenth gryphon in each of their company to be executed.”

Quicksilver’s eyes widened, and he hadn't realized he held his breath while the general continued.

“The captains who had followed me were forced to watch as they brought twenty gryphons out in front of them. In decimanation, their comrades mercilessly and brutally beat, then executed them. My fellow Nobles could not bear beat their own brothers, so the king ordered the Nomads to beat upon them. Clubbing, stoning, breaking off their wings until they were nothing but a bloody pulp.”

General Quill paused, starring off to wall of the tent, lost in deep thought.

“Those poor young souls. Forced away from their friends, did no wrong, and above all committed no treason. They were all chosen at random and they all had such bright futures ahead of them. I can still see their faces, all wondering why their time had to come so soon. It was a travesty that their futures were taken from them and they couldn’t fulfill their own dreams.” A single tear went down his face, Quicksilver seeing the general face wince in pain. He took a moment to compose himself, placing a claw over his eyes to wipe away the tears.

“After the young soldiers were killed, the captains who followed me, seeing the madness in the King's heart, still remained loyal to me. After his brutal display, he would kill anyone else that had any thoughts of disobeying orders or desertion. I went to the captains and I convinced them to bring as many of the soldiers who were were willing to leave. We were ready to take flight, but most of my Razor Claw brigade had to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that the king's wrath would not befall us.

“At the start of the war, my brigade had numbered four thousand strong. Today, my Razor Claw brigade was reduced to only a small battalion of seven hundred.” He paused, shuddering at what he was going to say next. “Five hundred of my best warriors and brothers volunteered to take part of the assault on Prancy, while the rest of my brethren remained with me. The King was pleased, and didn’t seem to notice when the captains and I made our escape after staying a week there. We rested in the mountains and watched as the King and the army departed for Prancy. The army was so vast that even the clouds and storms parted from their wake.”

General Quill was silent for a time, letting the words settle and allowing Quicksilver to comprehend it all. He couldn’t imagine the pain the captains went through. Or the lives of the ones taken in such brutal fashion. To top it off, the King was directly leading the entire front straight to the heart of Prancy itself. If he recalled correctly, the Defenders of the Equestrian Army and her allies had around ten thousand soldiers stationed at Prancy, with thousands more scattered around the borders. It took Sharp Beak and his group to travel within three days with little to no breaks. Who knows if the Mad King was already besieging the weary defenders?

“How… how many did you save?” Quicksilver asked. It was a honest question and made General Quill stir from his stupor. He turned to him, looking at him as if for the first time. General Quill closed his eyes and cleared his throat by drinking from a small wineskin on his belt. After finishing his drink, he gave a deep sigh.

“Roughly three hundred and twenty soldiers were convinced to follow us,” he explained. Quicksilver lifted an eyebrow. “However,” General Quill continued, “that was merely a fraction of a single percentage, compared to the thousands that remain in his army,” he said, causing Quicksilver to look away. A gloom hovering over the general’s mind over the many other Gryphons that didn’t join him.

For a time, the two were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

“Quicksilver,” the general spoke his name directly. Quicksilver eyed the general, and saw that he was staring at him. “Tell me, is it true that you mentioned a number of names of Gryphons that were killed by Sharp Beak?” he asked. Quicksilver was unsure about the question that the general asked. When he didn’t reply the general took a sharp intake of breath, and his words came out slower than before.

“Tell me. Among the names that you spoke of, I was told that one of the names was Franz Stormcloud. Is this true?” he asked. The last few words were slow and heavy as bricks. Quicksilver blinked at him, confusion was in his eyes at why he picked that name.

“Yes, that name was on the list,” he said slowly, and immediately General Quill stifled and he turned his head away for a brief moment. He remained that for a few seconds and he soon turned back to Quicksilver, tears streaming down his face.

“Tell me. (Sniff) For a grieving father. Tell me how my son died.”

Quicksilver’s eyes widened when he mentioned his son, he never knew he even had one.

“He was your son?!” he said, astounded. The general nodded to him.

“Yes. His real name was Franz Quill. Yet he decided that he wished to be a part of the war, changing his name to Franz Stormcloud so as to not reveal himself. I got onto him, yet he was determined to serve in our army. I allowed him to stay, yet I forbade him from participating in major clashes, but he always found a way to get into the thickest fights. Oh, my Red Tails,” he said.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It was a small nickname I gave him, with how vibrant his feathers were. Now I’ll never be able to utter those words nor see his body knowing he’s gone.”

The clear emotion that was spilling out of the general only showed the pain of a father’s loss. Quicksilver had recognized this grief before. It’s painful when telling the parent or sending a letter to the guardian that their child had passed away. But now, laying there in front of the general, he couldn’t help but bear responsibility for his son.

He was there to witness his death after all.

“Are you sure, General? I mean, I didn’t know that he was your son,” he cautioned, unsure of how to proceed at first.

“Please, tell me what you know. I just want to know,” he replied, the tears still visible. Not wanting to keep any secrets from the venerable general, Quicksilver sighed and gave the full truth to him.

“I was held captive during my time under Sharp Beak. He and his lackeys would capture fleeing soldiers and he would demand what position or task they did before they deserted. Afterwards, he would kill each individual in different and horrifics ways. For your son, his crime was not only deserting his post but for not killing two guards and a filly in a sewer. I said that he would not raise a blade to a innocent, so he never fought against the guards. I can only assume that it was both of my personal guards that I had sent on patrol. His death was...” he stopped himself, unsure how to continue to speak. The general, however, had a worried look on his face, wanting to know.

“His death was by execution. Sharp Beak and his minions shot him full of bolts,” he said. General Quill took a shuddered breath. The general’s composure collapsed and he raised both of his claws to his face. His head lowered and a soft cry was heard. He remained like that for several seconds, his breath uneasy and a few painful sobs escaped past him.

“He died by doing what’s right,” he said, through each breath. “He died a true Noble, defending what we value most.” He continued to shudder, the mighty general reduced to a sorry state, but it was not pitiful nor was it showing any weakness.

It was a father’s loss over his child.

The general’s crying lasted for a few minutes, his emotions spilling out in the room. Quicksilver turned his head, a feeling of regret reaching into his stomach, knowing what he said was causing his grief.

Yet he knew it was right. Telling the truth was easier to say then to hide behind a lie. After another minute passed between them, the general rose his head once more to look at him.

“He was my only child, you know,” he said in his grating voice, his tears still flowing. “I know that after the loss of my sister and leaving her children with me, I wanted all of them to live in peace.

“For Ebon, Gretchen, and even Deadyeye,” he said, to which Quicksilver nodded. He had spent a good amount of time with them, and whenever he worked and saw the three together, he could see the bond the three had for one another.

“With my true born son gone, they are all the family I have left. I know they worry for me, but I fear for them more then they imagine. Everyday, I can only imagine what fiend would do something that would cause them pain or even do harm against them. They all look up to me as their uncle, and yet, I imagine them more as my own children. A fatherly figure,” he uttered, looking up to stare at the flat of the tent.

Quicksilver looked back to him, unsure as to what to say. A small thought came to his mind, something that even related to his family.

“General Quill,” he said. The older Gryphon turned to him, the sorrow still visible on his face. “I wouldn’t know the pain your going through, yet I can relate to it. My sister Silverwing, she is all the family I have left. There’s not a day that goes by that I worry for her and make sure that she is okay. Even though she’s my older sister, I still have concern for her as she does with me. Even after our parents were gone, we still had our life tough for us, yet we manage to push on. We looked out for each other throughout this war, and we both wished nothing more then to have a peaceful life ahead of us. I’m sure that once this war is over, that they will have a peaceful lives ahead of them,” he said, hoping his words would ease his broken heart.

A small smile came up on the General and he placed a claw on top of his hoof.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Quicksilver. I do wish that dream to come forth, and that much rapport can happen between our people,” he said, lightly patting on top of the hoof before returning to his side.

“There is one thing I wish to ask,” he added, Quicksilver remaining all ears to the general.

“Was there anything that Franz said before he died?” he asked, bringing up another painful memory within Quicksilver’s mind.

“Well, I do recall him speaking his mouth off over the Colonel and that of the King. But he did speak much about the Gryphon Empire before the war. Its greatness, its people, the unity between them before it was taken over by its pride. He was shot first by Sharp Beak and he nearly collapsed by the first shot. But he raised himself back up and his last words were more noble then anything I ever witnessed.

“He said, ‘Long live sacred Gryphonstone!’ before he was killed.”

General Quill blinked at him and his small sad smile turned into a proud one.

“Even in the end, his heart was for that of our people. A father couldn’t be more prouder,” he said calmly. His tears soon ceased and his composure was slowly returning to him. Feeling the need to say something, Quicksilver cleared his throat to speak once more.

“If you don’t mind me saying, General, but you look like you could use some rest,” he said.

The old bird chuckled at his remark before a gloom hung over him.

“Over twenty thousand soldiers are heading to Prancy. I managed to save only three hundred and twenty from certain death. I also lost my only son to a traitor's claw. I don’t feel much like sleeping,” he said, letting his grim words hang in the air. Quicksilver was silent for a full minute, allowing their words remain in the air. There was nothing much to say after hearing the amount of pain that was shared.

“General Quill?” Quicksilver broke the silence between them. “What has become of Sharp Beak? What will you do with him?” he asked.

“Colonel Sharp Beak will be put on trial for his crimes against his fellow Gryphons. He will answer for his war crimes, not only for the city of Prancy, but for her citizens too,” he explained. Quicksilver nodded to him, but took notice of his stern expression. He heard his claws clench together and he could see a the old Gryphon’s brows narrow.

“Although,” he said coldly, “when I learned that it was him that killed my son, I wanted nothing better then to pin him down and to beat him within an inch of his worthless life,” he finished, taking a deep breath and returning to a calm state. Releasing the rip from his claw, he tapped the wooden post of the bed a few times.

“Guard, you may send him in,” he said, turning his attention back to Quicksilver with a small smile. “There is somepony who wishes to see you,” he said, taking a step back and allowing Quicksilver a full view of the entrance. A moment passed and the guards pushed open the entrance, allowing a deep midnight blue stallion to enter inside.

“Nightshade Moon,” Quicksilver said, the thestral looking up and giving him a wide smile.

“My friend, you're alive!” he said, speaking in his native Prench. The thestral quickly moved over to his right side, his hooves clasped around Quicksilver’s right hoof. “I thought you died. I thought you left this world,” he said, his eyes tracing over Quicksilver’s battered body. Quicksilver coughed and shook his right hoof in between his.

“I managed,” he replied in Prench, coughing slightly. Nightshade nodded to him, bearing a toothy grin.

“That was very brave of you, mon amie. You steeled against your foe even when your body would splinter from the strain.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you survived through all of that,” he said, bearing an astonished expression.

Quicksilver only chuckled at his remark. “Will take lot more than that,” he began to say, but ended up coughing. He felt Nightshade’s hoof pressed against his chest, and he saw the thestral had a concerned look on his face.

“Please rest easy, mon amie. You need your full strength in the coming days,” he said, going to his side and pulling on a small bag from his belt. Quicksilver watched as he fiddled with the bag and brought it towards him. He loosened the thin string and unpocket a small stone.

It was the very stone the young colt gave to him a long time ago.

“How did you-” Quicksilver began to say, but Nightshade placed the stone in his hoof. Quicksilver eyed the stone and saw a slight difference to it. A small string was looped at the top of the stone, forming a necklace of sorts. Confused, he looked at his thestral friend who only gave him a smile.

“Gryphon hen, Gretchen, found this in her tent. She gave it to us and we fixed it for you.” He paused, patting the stone before slipping it over Quicksilver’s head, the stone resting comfortably on his chest once it was secure. “This stone is a special heirloom, belonging to our family for many generations. We wouldn’t give it freely unless the gifted has done good deeds to my people. As long as you wear it, it will always bring good fortune.”

“I can’t take this. It’s too precious to you,” Quicksilver said, but Nightshade shook his head.

“It belongs to a pony who has given everything to ensure our safety. Keep it, mon amie,” he explained. Quicksilver lifted his left hoof and placed it onto the stone. He saw the symbol on it and how it reflected in the light. A thought soon occurred to him, and he turned his attention back to the thestral.

“Nightshade. What do you mean I need to save my strength?” he asked,wondering why he had mentioned that.

A bright smile formed on his face and showed his toothy grin to him. “General Quill has given me and my people enough help to care for ourselves. He also agreed to allowing us to leave once the storms have cleared. When that time comes, we can take you to Prancy and reunite with your kind.”

Quicksilver blinked at him in surprise. If he had strength left in his front hooves, he would be hugging all the air out of him.The thought of returning home and reuniting with his sister gave him hope that soon he would be back to his own lands. However, the army of the king would be there, and he had no doubt that if he reached the city, it would end up being in a blockade.

Thinking on the matter, he thought what General Quill thought of it. He eyed the General, who had sat silently listening to the two of them. He could have picked up some of the words they’d spoken, but he largely remained silent and respectful.

A knock at the front entrance of the tent alerted the three, and Gretchen poked her head inside.

“Uncle, Felix is here and ready for orders,” she said, before disappearing back outside. With that, Nightshade stood up from his position and brushed himself off.

“Nightshade,” Quicksilver said, drawing the thestral’s attention. “For what it’s worth: Thank you. ”

Nightshade smiled brightly to him. “Get your rest, Quicksilver, you have much rest to catch up on. Sleep well, Mon Ami.” With that, he then turned to the general and gave a humble bow. “Ami De la Nui.” (Friend of the night.)he said to him.

“Bonsoir ami des cieux,” (Goodnight friend of the skies.) General Quill replied, placing a claw on his forehead and then giving a small bow in return. Quicksilver blinked in surprise by this, and wondered just how much Prench the general actually knew. Nightshade smiled at General Quill for his remark and turned to walk out of the tent. Once he exited, both Gretchen and Felix came inside.

The two Gryphons approached General Quill, giving Quicksilver a good look at Felix.

The Arch Gryphon still wore a bandage around his right shoulder, although there were less cloth since the last time he saw him. He looked tired with heavy bags were under his eyes. However, despite this, he still gave a warm smile when he looked over to him.

“Ah the prodigal son has awoken,” Felix said, going over to his side and placing a talon onto his right hoof. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness or slight nausea?” he asked, checking out his wounds like a apothecary.

Quicksilver chuckled at his little inspection. “I’m doing fine, Felix, just tired. Though my wings are killing me and my jaw is sore,” he replied, returning the smile back to him.

“That is good. I was informed by Gretchen about your jaw. I think I can think of something to fix it. Your wings, however, have been gravely overused. Though you should be proud for what they endured. You broke the record by fifteen minutes, surpassing the five hours and fifty minutes, ” he explained.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise; even though he went through Tartarus, he still managed to beat the old record. A faint smile graced him and a small chuckle emanated from him.

“That will be something to tell my kids,” he said, giving a soft chortle even though it hurt his sides. Felix nodded, and he turned his gaze over to General Quill.

“Are you fine with me performing more magic on him?” he asked. The old general nodded in approval.

“Do what you must, Felix. Our equine friend must be at full strength by the time he leaves,” he said. Felix acknowledged his order and began to do his work. General Quill came to his side, a small smile present on his countenance.

“General Quill, am I really going home?” Quicksilver asked, with hope in his eyes.

“Indeed you are, once you have been healed. With Felix’s magic, you should be able to move about within the coming days,” he explained. Quicksilver sighed in much relief, resting his head back onto the pillow as a result.

To finally go home, to finally return to his lands. To be with friends, and to be reunited with his sister. It was a dream that was finally within reach. He closed his eyes and imagined the things he would do first when he would first arrive.

“Now Quicksilver,” Felix began, looking upon his wound while holding his leg up with his talons. “The treatment I will give you will help your mobility. It also will possibly restore your wings.”

Now that is a bit of good news, Quicksilver thought, happy to note that his wings could be mended after so long.

“However,” he mentioned, lowering Quicksilver’s hoof down. “I can’t guarantee that your wings will be in full working order. They will need rest and time. Can’t be strained over any strenuous activity,” he explained.

“Well, that won’t be to hard,” Quicksilver replied.

“Indeed. Now, the most important thing here is that you will be put into a trance if not full sleep as you undergo treatment. Your body will need to be the sole focus as we mend both of your legs and to restore your wings. After that, we shall focus on restoring your primary and secondary feathers, and to ensure that you...”

Quicksilver didn’t pay attention to the rest of what Felix had to say. He turned his attention to Gretchen, who was conversing with her uncle. The old General had relayed something to her, and her eyes widened slightly from what he told. She then wrapped her arms around him in a hug, her uncle returning it in kind. Quicksilver could only watch them, but a small smile was present on his face.

It would seem a small measure of peace finally came between them over what they had learned.

“...During your state of slumber, you will not have to worry about intaking of food. Gretchen had told me that she shall be nursing you and ensure that you are sustained during your healing,” Felix finished, drawing out a few crystals from his belt and began rubbing them together, a soft blue aura glowing around his claws as a result. Quicksilver blinked by his statement and turned his attention back to the Arch Gryphon.

“What do mean by nursing? You mean like hoof feeding?” he asked. His question caused all three of the Gryphons to look at him in mild confusion.

“Well almost different, Quicksilver,” Felix explained. “Like how small birds feed their young, Gretchen will be ensuring that you will be provided through… why are you making that face?” he asked, noticing how Quicksilvers expression had changed from calm to slight aversion to what he said.

Quicksilver then turned to Gretchen and blinked a few times in uncertainty. “So you mean when Gretchen was kissing me earlier and passing food to me, that’s actually a thing!?” he said, causing the three to blink in surprise. General Quill lifted a bushy eyebrow to his niece, a small smirk present on his face, while Felix remained silent but trying his best not to smile at this. Gretchen had a clear blush on her face and kept looking about trying to avoid the attention brought upon herself.

“It’s not called that,” she said, looking away in embarrassment. Felix merely chuckled and settled his aura-filled talons onto Quicksilver’s head. He felt a strange sensation course through his body, and he felt heavy from the touch. His eyes began to fade out, and sleep would soon overcome him.

Flight

Quicksilver was dreaming again. He was still soaring, still flying in the open skies. The land was peaceful, and the sun's rays were ever vibrant on his wings. He cast his gaze and saw a city in the distance on a lone mountain. The city was beautiful, its towers familiar. Every home was built with care, and the city was filled with ponies of all races coming and going as they pleased. He saw various colors of reds, greens and blues when he saw the homes and buildings, shining bright in the sunlight of the morn. Quicksilver smiled, knowing what this city was.

It was the city of Canterlot.

He was approaching at a slow pace, his wings gliding away upon the wind. He checked his wings and saw they were perfect. He smiled at this, seeing that his wings had finally given him the freedom he needed to do what he loves to do.

To soar out across the skies.

He turned his gaze back to the city of Canterlot. The city was still distant but getting closer. He noticed in the distance a storm cloud near the city, its rolling clouds blocking the city from view. He doubled his pace, hoping to reach the sanctuary of the city’s walls before the storm overcame him.

Suddenly, he found that he could not move his wings. He turned back to see his wings bandaged and covered in ice.

Panic coursed through him. Why was this happening, why are my wings like this?

He turned back to see the city of Canterlot, but he was rapidly descending to the ground below. He screamed and flapped his wings, any attempt to stay afloat.

He heard a twisted sick laughter at what he was doing. He managed to turn his body to stare up at the sky, and he saw Colonel Sharp Beak pointing a talon and mocking him for his crippled body. Other Nomad Gryphons were laughing alongside him, scorning and belittling him like he was nothing. Their bodies soon faded in the cloud as Quicksilver flipped over and saw the ground rapidly approaching him.

He shut his eyes, bracing for the impact.

Yet nothing happened. He didn’t hit the ground, nor did he taste dirt. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, his limbs lifeless as they dangled from his body. He felt a soft touch wrap around his chest and body, carrying him up into the air.

He opened his eyes, seeing the ground become distant. He looked at his chest and saw two claws holding him tight. He turned his head, his gaze looking at the gryphon who carried him.

It was Gretchen.

Her gaze was not on him, but was cast straight toward the skies. He didn’t know why she was doing it, nor did he seem to care. But he felt comfort in her embrace. He followed her gaze and saw the storm clouds gather. He saw Sharp Beak in the sky, an anger growing within his eyes as the two were closer to him than ever before. Gretchen released Quicksilver, aiming straight at the Colonel. Quicksilver, feeling strength in his limbs, raised a hoof directly at the Colonel. With a final bellow, he struck the tyrant in his beak and the gryphon plummeted towards the ground below.

Quicksilver bellowed into the air at his triumph, but found that he was falling along with him. Storm clouds surrounded his body, and darkness overcame him.

Quicksilver awoke with a start, his eyes staring at the wall of the tent. He was resting on his right side, his legs held close to his chest. The only light in his room was a single candle that had burnt low, the wax turned into a liquid mess around its base. There was no gryphon inside with him, and it was deathly quiet.

How long was I out, he thought, lifting his hooves up from the comfort of the blanket. He felt strength in his hooves when he lifted them in front of him, and saw a significant difference in them. There was no bandage on his right hoof and when he observed his limb, he noticed a scar that was an ‘x’ shape on the back of his leg. Whatever magic Felix had used, it certainly healed him from his beating and torment from Colonel Sharp Beak.

Wanting to test his wings, he shifted them in place, but found that they were still bound. Looking back and pushing the blanket aside, he saw that his wings were still held tight by fresh bandages. He sighed a little, wishing to know just how long he needed to heal for his wings to be restored.

“This should be the tent that equine’s in,” a voice said outside of the tent. Quicksilver cast his gaze to the entrance and saw three figures standing there in silhouette. Thinking quickly, he covered himself back up with the blanket and pretended to be asleep, keeping an eye cracked open slightly to see who was entering. A moment of silence passed, and the tent entrance soon opened.

In the faint candle light, he could make out two Nomad gryphons and a Noble gryphon being dragged by his knees. Quicksilver remained still, yet his heartbeat quickened when he spotted the two Nomads wielding daggers. He remained silent, unsure of what was going on, but all of his instincts were telling him to be ready for a fight.

“Ah, just like our esteemed colonel said, the prisoner is fast asleep,” the nearest gryphon spoke, leaving Noble gryphon’s side and slowly approaching Quicksilver’s bed.

“What should we do with this one?” his companion asked, gesturing to the slumped body of the noble in his claws. The closest Nomad gryphon turned to his mate, unaware that Quicksilver’s hoof was slowly moving toward the melted candle stick.

“Slit his throat. He’s a strong fighter, and I’d hate to have to fight him,” he replied, turning his attention back on Quicksilver. His hoof froze on the spot, inches away from the candlestick. Quicksilver eyed the Nomad holding the dagger and placing the blade near the Noble’s neck.

Then, without warning, the Noble reacted and seized the blade from his captor and rammed it into his stomach. The Nomad let out a short scream before he was tackled by the gryphon.

His companion turned his attention to the attacker, but failed to see Quicksilver grab a hold of the melted candle. He shoved the blankets off and alerted the gryphon, but he threw the candle just as the nomad turned to him. The hot wax splattered onto his eyes and face, and the Nomad hissed in pain. He let go of his short blade, allowing for Quicksilver to seize it mid drop and lunge it into his assassin’s neck. Quicksilver fell out of his bed when the blade ran through, the gryphon gagging from its own blood and blinded by the wax. He remained like that for a few moments before his body was still.

Quicksilver then turned his attention back to the Noble who scuffled with his Nomad captor, only to bring his blade back into the Nomad’s chest and ending him. Quicksilver watched as the Noble rolled over and rested his body on the side of the tent. Quicksilver could see his face partially from the light outside, and soon recognized a distinct scar over his left eye and down his beak.

“Deadeye,” he muttered, trying to get up but finding his legs were still shaky and unresponsive. He shook his legs of the numbness and slowly drew himself to a standing position. He felt the necklace on his neck dangle for a moment, and he remembered when Nightshade gave it to him. Gathering his bearings, he looked at the bodies of the two assassins, their own blades embedded in them, before turning his gaze back on Deadeye. The gryphon coughed and huffed out in his exhaustion, while Quicksilver got a good view of his facial features. Deadeye was heavily bruised on his face and beak. His chest was covered in claw marks, and blood was visible around his abdomen.

“You live, equine,” Deadeye coughed in response, his chest heaving with each breath. Quicksilver moved towards him, his legs trembling with each step. After a few precarious steps, he fell onto his haunches and was near Deadeye’s side, trying to see if there was anything he could do.

“Deadeye, what happened? What’s going on?” he asked, his mind already filling with questions.

Deadeye swallowed and took a shaky breath before speaking. “Colonel Sharp Beak was freed by his supporters,” he explained. Quicksilver felt overwhelming dread that he had escaped. “He has plotted a coup and has taken General Quill to the barracks, along with my brother Ebon. He has a few of his supporters finding the officers that follow under them and has ordered for them to be put to death,” he explained, coughing up blood after trying to get his last words out.

“What about Felix or Gretchen?” he asked, uncertainty ruining through him.

“I was with my sister when the Nomad gryphons jumped us,” he explained. “I don’t know where they took her or what they did with Felix, if they found him or not,” he said, placing a claw over his chest and trying to take deep breaths.

“Should you alert the others? Do they realize what’s going on?’ he said, turning his gaze to the outside, seeing the snow fresh on the ground and multiple tents from his viewpoint. He felt a claw seize him by the shoulder, and Quicksilver was forced to stare Deadeye in the eye.

“You shouldn’t worry about them. You need to flee, escape while you still can,” he said, offering the blood stained dagger to Quicksilver.

Though hesitant, Quicksilver accepted it and placed it in his hoof. “You need help, and I’m not going to leave you here,” he said, but Deadeye shook his head in frustration.

“I’m fine, you bloody idiot. I just need to catch my breath,” he said. Stubbornness seemed to be the only thing keeping him awake at this point. “Now listen, go to the mess tent and head inside. There is a supply cache in the far back which holds provisions inside, and it’ll allow you to escape. You will have all the things you need to survive out there in the winter. Now go,” he said, letting go of his shoulder to place his claws on the ground and catch his breath. Quicksilver was reluctant to leave, even watching him risk his life for him.

“I can’t just leave you here,” he said, taking a look outside, watching for a brief movement.

“You ass, just go!” Deadeye shouted, slapping Quicksilver’s flank and spooking him.

Quicksilver immediately bolted outside, the cold hitting him and sucking the warmth away. He stopped in front of the closest tent, hunkering down and trying to survey the situation that he was in. There were more tents then he could count. There could be hundreds of them, and with all of them scattered about, it would be difficult to navigate through. However, despite that, he could see the large tent in the center of the camp where the mess hall would be. Deciding to follow on what Deadeye suggested, he began to make his way towards it.

Quicksilver was silent. The only thing he heard was the sound of his own breath. He could hear some movement in the distance, but he didn’t knew if it was far off or right around the corner. Taking his dagger, he crouched low and began to move from tent to tent, hoping that he would be silent enough that no gryphon would hear him.

He felt like he was back in the trenches of Prancy, moving like a rat through a fortress of enemies.

Where is everypony? Why is everything so silent? he thought, trying to come up some logical explanation. If a coup was occurring, the whole camp would be fighting between the factions. Instead, he heard nothing but the snow crunching under his hooves.

A noise nearby alerted him, and he hid in the shadow of the tent. Taking it steady, he approached an area were multiple tents were grouped together. He froze when he spotted a Nomad gryphon standing guard in front of him. He slowly got behind him, sitting behind a large barrel. He looked at the grizzled Nomad, who was staring at a bunch of bodies on the ground.

Quicksilver cast his gaze to the massacre of a few dozen bodies, majority of them Nobles. He spotted two other Nomad gryphons, wearing heavy armor and carrying weapons that were bloodied. A Noble and Nomad gryphon were on their knees, their arms stripped of any value and leaving them bare in front of their captors.

“C,mon, let's finish them so we can get back to the Barracks. The Colonel is waiting for us,” one of them said softly.

His companion waved him off with a flick of his claw. “Nah, the Razor Claw brigade was sent out this morning under false orders, so this camp is mostly deserted. Relax, I’ve always wanted to make them squirm,” he said, taking his blade to bring it close to the Nomad gryphon. The gryphon stood up and was forced to look at his captor.

“Yeah, you’re right. Colonel Sharp Beak was always the manipulative one, forging those papers. It was ingenious of him. Now we can uproot these traitors for abandoning the king,” he said.

The Nomad gryphon that was on the ground pleaded to his captor. “Please, let me go. I just want to see my son and wife again. Please,” he implored, tears streaming down his face.

“An officer begging for his life? That is unbecoming of a Nomad like yourself. We’ll make sure to inform your family of your failure, and they will join you in death,” he said, thrusting his blade into the Nomad. A wordless cry escaped the officer, and the guard slowly pushed the blade further in.

Seeing an opportunity, Quicksilver raised himself behind the gryphon standing guard, and saw the other two Nomads were not paying attention. In one swift motion he quickly wrapped his hooves around his head. The Nomad struggled in Quicksilver’s grip as he pulled him down behind the barrel. The older Nomad nearly squawked, making Quicksilver tighten his grip. The Nomad struggled for breath, dropping his weapon and clutching at his forelegs to get him off, his back half kicking against the ground and sending some snow into the air. With another tight squeeze, he felt something break in the Nomad’s neck and the gryphon was soon still in his tight embrace.

Letting go of the dead body and letting it slide off his left side, he peered around the barrel. A second later, however, the body of the dead gryphon hit the tent, causing the snow that had accumulated to fall on top of him and the dead Nomad. The sudden chill was enough to send shivers down his side.

“What was that?” the guard said, finishing off the officer and allowing the body to collapse in a heap in front of him. The Nomad, standing on his back legs, carried his heavy blade forward and moved towards the sound of the noise.

“Get your blade ready, just in case,” he said, while his companion left the Noble’s side and kept a close watch. The approaching Nomad soon moved past the barrel, oblivious to the snow mound that Quicksilver was buried in. Quicksilver’s eye was the only thing uncovered, staring out from the pile and seeing the guard look about the area.

“Where the devil did our guard go?” he said softly, his blade pointing at the multiple tents around him. Quicksilver hardly breathed when the nomad took a step closer to him, his body mere inches away from the gryphon. After another minute of absolute silence, the guard gave a huff and turned around to his companion.

“Probably taking a piss. C’mon, get the Noble ready for his judgement,” he said, taking a step forward near Quicksilver. Seizing the opportunity, Quicksilver thrusted his hoof out and wrapped it around the guard’s leg.

Before the guard could let out a scream, his back legs were pulled out from under him and he fell to where Quicksilver held his dagger for him. The Nomad fell upon the dagger, the blade going clear through his neck and out the other side of his head.

Wasting no time, Quicksilver removed himself from the pile of snow and yanked the blade out from the quivering gryphon and rushed toward the last guard. The Nomad’s golden eyes widened in horror at seeing his companion on the ground and lifted his halberd to the assailant. Quicksilver effortlessly moved passed the larger weapon and thrust his blade directly into the exposed neck of the Nomad. The blade pierced skin and feathers as Quicksilver rushed directly into the guard and forced the both of them to hit the ground, resulting in the blade going further into the Nomad’s neck. The Nomad gagged and raised his claws up to seize him, but he was only clawing at air around him. Quicksilver held the dagger in his neck, keeping the pressure as he felt blood at the end of his hooves. A moment passed, a few gurgling sounds escaped the guard and his arms fell to his sides.

The last guard was no more.

Taking a moment, he surveyed the area of the dead gryphons. Just like Deadeye said, it appeared that almost every officer was being taken and executed. He even recognized some of the faces of a few gryphons.

He turned his attention back to the Noble, who was looking at him in a stunned stupor. The Noble had blue feathers around his eyes and chest, and a white body where the feathers ended. His green eyes looked startled by what Quicksilver had did. Quicksilver removed the blade from his victim and headed over to the Noble. He saw a binding on its claws behind him, and he quickly made short work of the rope. A moment later, the Noble fell forward but stopped himself with his own talons. He raised himself up, rubbing his wrists before turning to Quicksilver with a thankful expression.

“You saved my life,” he said, a look of astonishment present on his face.

“There is no time for that. Deadeye is hurt and waiting at the tent that I was sleeping in. He needs help,” he said, pointing a hoof back the way he came.

The Noble gryphon looked over and nodded, picking up a blade from one of the fallen Nomads. “I’ll go see to him and rally my troops. I won’t forget this, equine,” he said, heading off in the direction of the tent.

Heading in the opposite direction, Quicksilver made his way past more of the outlining tents, but came across a few toppled ones along his path. He wondered if it was true, that the Razor Claw brigade was away. It would give a reason for Sharp Beak being able to break out and cause this uprising. A thought soon occurred to him, and he realized that the thestrals were in danger as well. Moving from his original course, he diverted to another pathway through the tents and headed to where they rested.

Several minutes passed, and Quicksilver saw the thestrals were still in their small encampment. The only thing that separated him and to his bat friends was an open area that was twenty five yards apart. He stopped near the edge, daring a look to see if he was clear. Taking a shaky breath, he moved swiftly and stealthy across the expanse and towards the small encampment. The fires were out around the area, providing him the cover of darkness. He reached the area with no incident, and he could hear the steady breaths of sleeping thestrals inside. Searching a few of the tents, he eventually found Nightshade Moon sleeping alone inside the tent. Entering inside, and settling his blade to the side, he began to shake his friend.

“Nightshade,” he whispered, bringing a hoof onto his shoulder. His friend stirred in his sleep, but didn’t wake.

“Nightshade,” Quicksilver repeated, this time getting closer and placing a hoof near his head to wake him. The thestral awoke, fluttering his eyes from his disturbed slumber. He turned and his eyes immediately went wide, ready to scream. Quicksilver pressed a hoof to his mouth and quieted him down.

“Nightshade, it’s me,” he whispered in Prench. It took but a momnet but Nightshade focused his eyes on him and nodded to him. Once he calmed Nightshade down, he removed his hoof and Nightshade looked at him in shock.

“My friend, why did you wake me, and why are you covered in blood?” he said.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. It amazed him that even though it was still dark, the thestral had perfect vision in the blackness. “I can’t explain right now. You have got to rouse your people. Sharp Beak is free and plotting a coup to usurp both General Quill and Ebon,” he explained as best he could, but Nightshade already got the message.

“The tyrant is free? My people are in danger!” he said, already getting up from his bed.

Quicksilver pressed a hoof to his chest. “Nightshade. I’m going to get provisions from the mess hall for the long journey. Keep your people here until then and I’ll signal you all to flee straight for the tunnel,” he said, grabbing his blade and turning to leave. He was stopped short when Nightshade held his hoof and made him look at him. The thestral leader placed a hoof on his chest, pressing at his stone talisman. He gave a toothy grin and nodded to him.

“May the huntress guide your path,” he said, before letting him go.

I’ve got to ask him if she is a religious figure, Quicksilver thought to himself while giving a knowing smile. Quicksilver soon departed the tent and rushed towards the main encampment. He didn’t care or stop for any threats. He knew speed was the utmost importance.

After traveling a few minutes past the tents, he heard a small commotion nearby. Wanting to investigate the noise, he quickly but silently moved to the nearest tent and cast a glance toward the noise. His eyes widened when he saw a small number of Nomad gryphons all gathered around, with Sharp Beak at the center of it all. Next to him, and kneeling on its knees was another gryphon, but he had a bag over his head and chest. The colonel looked at his companion, an overwhelming pride seeming to radiate off him as his warriors gleefully whispered his name.

“What should we do with this one?” one asked.

“He’s had his days, kill the stupid pluck,” said another.

“Patience, my proud warriors. He’ll get his due soon enough.” He punched into the hooded figure’s gut, and the other Nomads shared a small laugh as a muffled groan escaped the captor.

“He’ll be dealt with at my own discretion. In the meantime, continue finding the remaining officers. Once they are dealt with, we will fully be in control of all of the younger recruits,“ he said, his face twisting in a small devilish grin. The others all nodded and mumbled much appreciation to their leader.

Quicksilver remained still, watching the scene before him, until he saw one gryphon Nomad heading towards the crowd. Once he was close, he fell to one knee and bowed his head.

“My lord, two of our brothers are dead in the equine’s tent, and our prisoner Deadeye is nowhere to be found,” he explained.

In a flash, Sharp Beak lost his upbeat composure. No doubt he still felt humiliated from losing to Quicksilver, as that had already damaged his pride.

“The equine is more slippery than ever,” he said, turning to his companions and waving his claw in authority. “Search the grounds for him, but do it discreetly. Whoever finds the equine and brings me his head will be my next right claw. I’ve got to be somewhere private for this one,” he said, pulling on the masked gryphon and forcing him to walk. The rest of the party dispersed, searching throughout the camp.

Quicksilver remained hidden behind the tent and waited for the group to clear. As he remained still, he heard a soft noise coming close to him. His ears focused to the noise, wondering if it was coming from the other side of the tent, but heard a soft crunch of snow coming from behind. In a panic, he whirled around and raised his blade to meet his assailant, only for a thick claw to wrap around his mouth and keep him silent.

“Easy, Quicksilver. It’s me,” Ebon said, holding both the blade and keeping his claw around Quicksilver’s mouth. The captain eyed him over, and a small chuff came from him. “Seems we’re not the only ones to get their claws dirty,” he explained.

Quicksilver’s eyes darted to the gryphon leader and to ‘Warden’, who sat close behind him. He moved his head and observed if the coast was clear, before turning back to face Quicksilver.

“I overheard that Deadeye had escaped. Did you have something to do with that?” he asked, not removing his claw off of his mouth. Quicksilver nodded slowly, his body calming down from the sudden rush. Ebon sighed deeply and released his massive claw off of him. “At least my brother is still alive,” he said, allowing Quicksilver to speak his mind.

“I helped a Noble officer, and he went to go help Deadeye,” he said. Ebon nodded at the good news. “I heard you were held up. How did you manage to escape?” he asked, many questions running through his mind at once.

Ebon gave a short breath, the air visible from the cold air. “After Sharp Beak left, several of my companions helped liberate me from the barracks. I intend to go after the Razor Claw Brigade and bring them back and end Sharp Beak‘s rebellion,” he said, getting up and ready to take flight.

“What about your recruits and youngbloods? Will they switch sides when they learn of their commanding officers are gone?” Quicksilver asked.

Ebon waved it off. “I know many of the recruits have close ties to some of their captains. I’m certain they’ll be resistant in joining when they learn that their companions were butchered by his talons,” he said.

“What about the gryphon tied up? I swore I thought I heard Felix,” Quicksilver said, rising up from the cold snow.

Ebon raised a talon to his chin in deep thought. “Felix is a great asset to both my uncle and to this encampment. Losing him would be a severe blow,” he explained.

Quicksilver cleared his throat. “I think I saw Felix heading towards the mess tent. If he is keeping him there, I can go get him,” he offered.

Ebon gave him a peculiar look. “You wish to offer aid when you yourself require more than is needed?” he said. Quicksilver looked around in searching of an answer. He didn’t want to reveal that he was going off and leaving them. But after all that they did for him he owed a debt that needed to be repaid.

“After what’s going on and what you and your family did for me, I just want to help end him before Sharp Beak will do more harm,” he explained as honestly as he could.

Ebon eyed him over, uncertainty present on his countenance. While he remained like this, they overheard noises nearby from Sharp Beak‘s gryphons. Ebon sighed and nodded to him.

“I trust that you will honor your word,” he asked.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Quicksilver nodded to the captain. “You will have my word,” he replied. With that, Ebon placed a claw onto his shoulder and held it with a firm grip. Quicksilver felt a little nervous from the strong hold, knowing full well that Ebon was a strong warrior in his own right. After a moment of silence passed between the two, Ebon inclined his head to him.

“Then honor your obligations,” he said, before turning to take off into the camp.

“Ebon.” Quicksilver stopped him, making the larger gryphon turn to him, “What of Gretchen? Is she fine?” he asked.

Ebon bore a brooding expression on his face.

“I haven’t heard word of my sister since I was captured. I pray to Saint Gregor that she is safe,” he replied, taking a uneasy breath. He remained like that for a moment before turning to him. “If you find her, please notify me to where she is or if you can protect her. I trust that you will honor that pledge,” he said.

Quicksilver nodded in turn to him. With that understanding between them, Ebon headed off to find his troops, and most likely would take off to find the Razor Claw brigade. Warden followed close behind and a small smirk came off of Quicksilver.

“Take care, Warden,” he said. Warden merely grunted in annoyance.

Still as silent as ever.

With the two leaving, he focused his attention to where the mess hall was. Once he spotted it, he realized he was not far from his destination. After taking another moment, he began moving to his target. He moved as quietly as possible, and he had to be still more than a few times to watch a few patrols marching on by. Sharp Beak‘s coup was still in effect, and he was not going to lose his grip on his complete take over.

The weather was not getting any better either.

Since he left the safety of his own tent, the bitter cold had taken effect. He would occasionally hear strong winds high above the open hole in the sky. Snow descended down at a constant pace, and his body was shaking from the chill. However, him moving about and killing the Nomad gryphons helped keep his body heat going and allowed him to push on.

It took him another minute until he saw the mess hall near the large fire pit. The fire had all but died out, now nothing but kindling. A few Nomad gryphons patrolled the area, carrying torches and observing their surroundings. Wanting to avoid them, Quicksilver took the back route and headed to the back entrance of the mess hall.

Once he arrived, he stood right next to back of the great mess tent, on alert and with his breath shaking. He looked to his left and right, making sure that there was no gryphon in the area. Taking the blade in hoof, he carefully poked a hole into the side of the tent. Ripping the fabric inch by careful inch, he soon stopped to get a quick look of the interior inside.

There were a number of boxes from what he saw, with a few barrels labeled “flour” and “sugar” in front of him. Removing himself from the peep hole, he inserted the dagger back in and slowly ripped the fabric of the tent at a steady rate. He cut slowly and methodically, making sure that what he was cutting would not alert the patrolling guards nearby.

When he’d cut just enough from his height, he heard a nearby patrol closing in on his location. Pushing the dagger in, he forced his body to get inside the tent. After a few tense moments, he squeezed his midsection through the tight gap and ended up sprawled on the floor, fortunately out of sight.

Wanting to be extra certain he was not seen, considering the noticeable hole that he has pushed through, he spotted a large barrel and quickly grabbed it. He pushed it into position in front of the hole and held it there, his heart beating rapidly when he heard the patrol on the other side. He saw the light of the torch hang overhead, yet they didn’t stop and continued on.

Taking a breath of relief, Quicksilver slumped into the barrel that he moved and took a moment to relax. Seeing that he was alone, he took a look at his surroundings. The whole area was stacked with wooden crates of dry foods, coats blankets and other storage. Flours, sugars and dried meats were stacked in their own respective areas, with a few vegetables tied in small bags, while the clothing were separated and hung dry on the higher shelves. He even saw several sacks of potatoes scattered about in the corner of the tent. Picking himself up, he moved past the rows of boxes, crates and barrels, and saw a tent opening nearby. Pushing a hoof inside, he surveyed the area around him.

It was then he had found himself inside the place of meal preparation for the entire camp. Several large tables were settled in the center of the room, blood stains visible on top of the oaken surface and a few knives of various sizes settled nearby. On the sides of the room, there was a cauldron with a large pot that hanged over a fire. On the racks nearby, he saw various fruits hang off the roof and over a smaller table. On the other side of the room, across from where he stood, was another entry way.

If this was the preparation area, then the next room would be the serving or dining hall.

The smell of meat hung rampant in the air, and the mixture of different fragrances that mixed in the air was very enticing. He felt his mouth water, and he wondered when was the last time he had a proper meal.

That looks really good right now, he thought, eyeing a few ripe apples that settled next to a small dining table nearby. Shaking his head and remembering why he was here, he searched the kitchen in search of several sacks big enough to carry and enough to last. His luck came around when he found several large sacks nearby and already began filling them with various fruits, vegetables and meats for the thestrals. He moved about the room at a fast pace, shoving anything inside the sacks and ready for carrying, carelessly knocking a few plates and knives onto the ground. He had to wrap the meats quickly with some of the cloth nearby and made sure it was preserved. He had even went back into the storage of the tent and packed in as much flour, yeast and other things needed for basic food and necessities. He even seized several large blankets and stuffed them in the clean bags and the dry foods as best as he could.

He would need all the provisions he needed if he was to survive out in the cold and frozen storms.

After almost twenty minutes of doing this, he heard a noise coming from his own stomach. Deciding to fill his appetite, he moved four of the full sacks to a corner of the room and went over to the table in the corner of the room. The first he seized was an apple and immediately bit into it. He shuddered from the taste and was in bliss of eating nature's candy. Quickly finishing the apple, he dove into the rest of the meal that was there. He paused, however, when he saw some of the cooked meat from a boar and some sausages that was presented before him. Ignoring the nauseating sensation within him, he dove into the meat and took a hefty chunk of it into his mouth.

For the next few minutes, he was stuffing himself with the meal presented to him. He ate everything that was there, even occasionally drinking from the nearby wineskin. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, but he kept eating until he was filled. His stomach would protest from the sense of meat within him, but he didn’t care. Being here for so long made him adaptive to the food, and eating the meat would help sustain him when he left the camp. After filling himself, he took a big swig from the wineskin to finish it all down. He took a deep sigh, knowing that he was satisfyingly full.

“Come on, take that whelp into the back,” a voice on the other side of the tent entrance said. Quicksilver whipped his head, looking for a place to hide. The first thing he saw was a small table with crates underneath and several barrels on the sides. Taking no chances, he scrambled behind the area, making himself as small as possible. It was a tight fit, but the crawl space was enough for him to squeeze in, though it was uncomfortable. After a few precious moments, his body slid until he was staring at the wall of the tent, his breathing fast and his heart racing from the adrenaline.

Once he was still, the entrance opened up, followed by the sound of two gryphons coming in and dragging something behind them. Quicksilver turned his head and peered between the cracks of the crates, seeing what was happening before him. He spotted the gluttonous Black Talon carrying the limp figure and setting him on the end of the table. The second gryphon went over and grabbed a nearby bucket of water, turning and dumping it onto their victim. The gryphon coughed and gagged under the pressure of the water, his body waking and thrashing about. Black Talon chuckled at this, and he grabbed the end of the sack over his head and pulled it off, revealing black feathers.

Felix, Quicksilver thought, seeing the Arch-Gryphon on the table like a slab of meat. His front claws were bound in rope and his mouth was gagged with a cloth. He struggled as he tried to spit up water, almost choking to get a hold of himself.

“The great and humble Arch-Gryphon has awoken,” Black Talon spoke, his belly jiggling whenever he laughed. Felix eyed him, pure fury in his eyes. “You should be grateful you’re not outright dead,” he said, observing the room around him. “Hmmm. Some gryphon seemed to get picky in here,” he said with annoyance in his voice.

Quicksilver followed his gaze, spotting the mess he created, but also spotting his supply stashed and his own blade in the corner of the tent. He only prayed they didn’t pry into it. After a few tense moments, he was relieved when the corpulent gryphon shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention onto Felix, while the second Nomad remained silent.

“Now, Sharp Beak made it clear that he wanted to be the one to kill you slowly,” he said, chuckling to himself in a intimidating manner. “He didn’t say anything about maiming you,” he said, his heavy steps circling him like a predator. Felix eyed him with much concern, his body shaking about to try and escape. This only made him laugh at his expense, shoving a claw into his body to keep him still. He then opened his mouth in delight, slapping his meaty talons together.

“I think I know of a way that will cure your stubbornness,” he said, pausing and turning toward Quicksilver's direction. Quicksilver hunkered down, still looking at the wall before him. He knew that any noise would alert them to his presence and he would be dead within moments.

“Now, where’s that favorite carving knife? I always like to place it here near my food,” he said. Quicksilver heard his heavy steps moving closer to his position. A meaty slap from his claw hit the table that he hid behind, making him freeze from the hit. He felt his heart in his throat, yet he remained still. He could hear the claw rubbishing around the table, pushing a few pieces of broken bread and meat onto the ground.

“Gah, don’t tell me it fell back there again,” he said, hearing the table creak when he stood on top of it. Quicksilver then saw Black Talon’s claw push down the space near where he was. Quicksilver felt his heart stop and his breathing ceased, as the claw fumbled around for the knife. He looked up and was thankful that he saw only the arm and not his head looking down.

“C’mon, I know your back there. Don’t make me move this table again,” Black Talon said, his talons scratching the surface of the tent wall and near the ground. Quicksilver lowered his head as far as he could, hoping to avoid being touched. He couldn’t hear his own breath nor dared make any sound, but kept himself away from Black Talon’s claw. His eye wandered and near the ground he spotted a serrated carving knife that was right next to him. Moving at a slow pace, he tenderly picked up the serrated knife, his eyes still focused on the talons. The talons shuffled over ever closer, mere inches away from his face. Seeing a moment he needed, he lifted the handle of the blade up to him until the talons grasped around the pommel.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, pulling the blade away off his hoof and leaving Quicksilver. He breathlessly sighed, and his heart painfully hammered in his chest. He also felt the need to piss himself from nearly getting caught. After taking just a moment to collect himself, he turned his attention back to Black Talon and to Felix.

“You know, even though your an Arch-Gryphon, your tribe always seemed to get better treatment than the rest of us,” he said with a sadistic tone in his voice. “The Arch-Gryphons are supposed to be sacred, the Arch-Gryphons have the ability with magic. Pluck those believers who say it’s true,” he said, taking the carving knife and bringing it closer to Felix’s eye. Felix struggled under his grip, his face held still but his lower body was kicking about and trying to break free.

“Would an eye be sufficient, or would removing your flapping tongue be satisfying?” he said, drawing the blade ever closer, whilst Felix stared in absolute horror. Before he could get his blade any closer, a knock came from the other side of the door.

“Black Talon, bring my prize in here. I hate waiting,” the voice of Sharp Beak said in the other room. Black Talon sighed and slammed his knife into the wood, mere inches away from Felix’s face.

“To be continued, then,” he said with a defeated sigh. He headed towards the exit, but stopped to give a quick smirk to his guard. “Be sure to rough him up for me. I like my prey to be alive before the kill.” he explained, leaving his guard to his wishes. Once Black Talon was gone, the guard cracked his knuckles and grabbed the front feathers of Felix and began to beat him.

Sensing a good opportunity, Quicksilver moved out of his hiding spot and quickly yet silently grabbed the blade from his cache and moved behind the guard. Making his steady approach, he saw Felix being lifted up, his face was badly bruised. Felix’s head was high enough to meet Quicksilver’s, and his eyes widened when he spotted the equine. By the time the guard took notice, Quicksilver already thrusted his blade into the back of the guard and swiftly placed his free hoof to silence his screams. He felt the rush of blood onto his hoof, and the guard struggled for a few moments before his talons fell to his side. He tried to remove the blade from the guard, yet it was embedded deep into him. He let go of the weapon as the guard fell forward, his body lying right next to Felix, who looked rather horrified at the sight.

“It’s alright, Felix,” he whispered in reassurance. He took his bounded claws and silently undid the ropes.

Although once the bounds were free Felix raised his talons to his mouth and removed the gag, he promptly turned over and hurled whatever food he had in his system.

“Oh, Saint Gregor,” he moaned slightly, clutching at his stomach and coughing slightly. Quicksilver immediately got the Arch Gryphon to stand and made him stare back at him.

“Quiet. They’ll hear us,” he said. Felix wiped the bit of bile from his beak and looked at Quicksilver as if stunned.

“You’re still alive?” he asked softly, his face quite startled to see him here.

“I’m alive. Though I can’t say that for the few that I came across in getting here,” he said, looking towards the exit and worrying if Black Talon or even the mad colonel would make their way in here. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, wiping away the blood on his hooves by rubbing them on the ground.

“You’ve been out for two whole days, nearing a third. The magic that was placed on you should have knocked you out for much longer,” he said, while scavenging the dead corpse and bringing out his necklace of crystals.

“Well, I guess I got better, yet my wings still hurt,” he said, instinctively shuffling his wings from side to side. Although, the bandages came loose do to them being wet and slacking and the fabric slid off his wings. Settling the wings back to his side, he headed to the supplies and began dragging them towards the exit.

“What are you doing?” Felix inquired while watching him pull the sacks forward.

“I’m getting out of here. While I have the chance,” he said, settling the sacks to the side of the exit and looking around the room for a weapon that was durable to use.

“Quicksilver, you won’t make it to the exit. Even if you manage to elude the guards, there's a storm raging outside of the mountain. You can’t survive Mother Nature's wrath,” he explained, still speaking softly in fear of being caught.

“I don’t care. I survived worse tortures being in this place then dealing with Mother Nature. If Sharp Beak dies trying to chase me, then that is a bonus. I can take my chances with that,” he said, spotting a blunt item that could be used for a weapon. Before he could retrieve it, he felt a tug on his shoulder. His body turned sharply and looked straight at Felix. The arch gryphon placed both of his talons onto his shoulders and kept him in place.

Felix’s expression was serious and a hint of fear was visible as well.

“Listen to me, boy. You don’t want to trifle against him. He will no longer listen to reason, nor will he be deterred in pursuing you. You left a mark on his pride, and it burns deep enough to be avenged. No matter how far you travel, he will relentlessly hunt you down, even to the ends of the earth. There is more to him then you know,” he said.

Quicksilver shook his head and snorted in frustration. Despite Felix’s warning, he already had settled on his path forward.

“I don’t care if he acts like a king. He will not stop me from leaving.”

“Ah, my prize has finally arrived!” a familiar voice on the other side of the tent was raised. Quicksilver immediately hunkered down, bringing Felix with him in the process. He approached the exit and peeked between the crack to look what was before him.

The room had multiple tables and chairs stacked on top of one another. A small fire was settled in the middle, its embers burning low. He guessed that if the room he was in was the preparation room, then the next one over was a serving area. Near the front entrance, he spotted Sharp Beak smiling wickedly while watching a gryphon with a sack over his head being dragged forward.

Black Talon dropped the body in front of Sharp Beak and gave a pleasing grin. “Your prize has been brought forth,” Black Talon said, rubbing his meaty talons together and moving closer to where Quicksilver was. “If you will excuse my friend, a certain Arch-Mage is finally getting his due.”

“You may leave, Black Talon,” he said coldly, his eye never leaving off the gryphon with the sack. Black Talon looked to him in confusion.

“But, I thought-” he stammered, but was cut off by a flick of the colonels talons.

“Go and find the little rats that have scurried away. I wish to be left alone now. Besides, your guard can have a little bit more fun with that bloody codger” he replied, his eyes never wavering off his target. Black Talon reluctantly bowed his head and left for the outside. He exchanged a few words to nearby guards and everything soon became silent.

Sharp Beak looked down at his prey. The body was still for a moment, but Quicksilver noticed breathing. Sharp Beak seemed to marvel for a moment over the body until he placed his talon on the gryphons shoulders and brought him up until he was sitting. The gryphon had the sack over his shoulder and seemed to be stirring. Sharp Beak promptly removed the bag to reveal familiar red feathers.

“Gretchen,” Quicksilver whispered and promptly felt a claw on his shoulder. He looked over to Felix, who immediately shook his head. Getting the message, he remained silent and watched the scene unfold.

“Wake up, dear Gretchen. We have much to discuss,” Sharp Beak said, cutting a loose band off her claws. Without hesitation, Gretchen seethed in anger and lunged a fist directly at him. The blow landed hard on his cheek and he reeled from the blow. Gretchen readied to lunge another blow, but Sharp Beak raised a claw and seized her arm before she could strike him.

“Enough, my dear. I only want to talk.” he said, calmly releasing her arm and watching her. Gretchen remained steady, ready at a moments notice to bolt or flee if need be. Sharp Beak gave a small smile and turned to walk to a nearby table.

“I had thought much over your words to me, Gretchen. ‘Uncle Quill will have my head’ or ‘ I know nothing of kindness or sympathy.’ Well, you got one point right.” He turned to her with grin. “I do know sympathy when I see potential,” he said, resting where he was, his claws at his front and arched forward, ready to strike if need be.

“What do you want, Sharp Beak? As far as I can see, you’re nothing without your lackeys, and you lack a backbone when finishing the job,” Gretchen replied, crossing her arms and standing tall and proud to him.

The colonel huffed at her response and fiddled his talons together, inspecting them and toying an imaginary object. “Yet, you forget my cunning and intrigue among my brethren. How they managed to arrange my escape and how even now are scouring the camp and silencing my rivals and officers under the general. You only figured one part of my plan, while I am already two steps ahead of you,” he explained, his face twisting into another sadistic and sardonic grin. He took a step forward, casting his gaze to the exit of the tent.

“Right now, I already have plans set in motion that not even your uncle can foresee,” he said slowly, yet also in a pensive manner. He then turned to her with his ever malicious smile and took another daring step forward. “I perceived something with you, Gretchen. You’re clever, smart when you need to be, and even a strong warrior. Proud traits to have indeed for a Noble of your stature. That is useful.” Sharp Beak turned his back, looking out to a part of the tent and Quicksilver, for some reason, imagined he was staring at a open window.

“But then I realized, Gretchen, that there is something that is far more valuable than bearing good traits and fame.” He then turned his head and stared directly at her like some great prize. “It’s your blood.” he replied.

Gretchen’s eyes widened in surprise, her body tensed up at his response. Quicksilver could only watch the colonel with much contempt, but also a mild curiosity of what his intentions were.

The colonel then turned fully to face her and puffing out his wings to stand proud before her.

“Gretchen, I want you as my wife.”

The room fell silent as he uttered those bold words. Gretchen looked at him in revulsion and shock by his offer. Quicksilver felt something in the pit of his stomach by his words, wanting to break every bone in that gryphon’s body.

He felt the claw removed from his shoulder, and he turned to Felix who looked at him in… disappointment? Quicksilver could not tell what was going on in the Arch-Gryphon’s mind, nor did he care to think on it. He turned back to Gretchen and waited to hear a response. A moment of silence later, and she gritted her teeth at him.

“This is not my ideal view of courtship. Besides, being your ‘wife’? I think you’ve lost your mind, Sharp Beak,” she said, taking a precarious step back away from the colonel.

“Not at all to me, my dear. I think it works out well for the both of us, and it makes plenty of sense,” he reasoned. “I want to have you as my own. For I am young in my years, good health, strong, and a long life ahead. I wish to share that with a special hen, one who will be taken care of once the fallout is over.” He then paused, thinking upon his own words. “It’s not my grandest idea, but it’s a fair start,” he said, his words still sounding misleading, but Quicksilver could only fathom to their meaning.

“You’re not making sense. You disliked me and treat me and my family like dirt,” she replied, spreading her wings out in show of intimidation. Sharp Beak was not moved by this and chuckled at her display of force.

“Of that, I can agree. But your blood and even your name would be sacred to the likes of me. All needed for my plans for the future. When Nobles and other low life gryphons see that I claimed a Noble hen as my own, then my name will be carried on for many generations, and no gryphon will dispute over me nor question the authority that I have as a Nomad,” he explained, before narrowing his eyes to her. “If you don’t value that, then think of your bloodline and legacy. Think of your own brother Ebon, or your precious Uncle. Even that non blood gryphon Deadeye you consider as a brother,” he explained, almost grumbling the last of his words.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded, her wings still holding steady and high.

A smirk came up and he shook his head at her naive questioning. “Right now, at this very moment, a courier is flying straight for Prancy. He is carrying leaflets by the dozens to the inhabitants and to the invaders who recently claimed it as their own. You forget my own devious designs, as I have made forged signatures from your uncle and brother. Upon the papers bare the duplication's and false signatures that claim it was their idea of sacking and razing the city to the ground, even before we left the city and when we recapture it. Once the courier had delivered the leaflets, the Equestrian Army and leaders will be demanding the heads of those responsible for the city’s destruction and all those involved. Leaving me blameless of the whole ruination of the Equine’s precious city,” he explained.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened not only in horror but also outrage. Every word he spoke held the answers to his questions. This explained why the gryphons were fighting from home to home, destroying everything in their path before retreating from the city. Taking anything and everything of value and setting the city to the torch.

The whole idea to sack the city and leaving it in ruin was forged by none other than the colonel himself.

Quicksilver clenched his hooves, and his hatred for the colonel grew even more.

“A scapegoat is needed, Gretchen. Your remaining family will be the perfect solution, leaving you the sole survivor. I’m afraid they won’t survive when I present their heads to Equestria and settle their grudges and debts,” he explained.

Gretchen, after listening to this, lowered her wings, taking his words all in and wrapping her head around the whole ordeal. She would survive, but her family would be killed off.

“This is blackmail!” she said while looking at the ground, his words having confounded her.

“Not necessarily. With them gone, they will leave their grand estate back in Gryphonstone, which has been the most successfully run estate by your family for centuries. And through marriage, it will all belong to me. A hold like that will greatly raise my prestige and my own ambitions,” he said, moving forward until he was right in front of her.

Gretchen looked at him, her eyes narrowed and her next words were filled with much venom.

“I will kill you in your sleep. I’ll slit your throat until your last breath escapes you.”

Sharp Beak laughed at her attempted threat before looking back down to her.

“I would like to see you try. Though, not what I had in mind for you.” He paused, looking at his surroundings before turning back to look at her. “You know, it’s fitting how betrothal begins to a captor to his prisoner. It’s sounds like a perfect symbol for the rest of your life,” he explained, his beak turning into a cruel smile.

“You plan to keep me locked up in a cage?!” she said aghast.

“Well, not literally,” he admitted. “But maybe figuratively.” He then lowered himself closer until he whispered into her ear, which Quicksilver managed to pick up. “As long as you play your part in producing my many… many heirs,” he said, making her shiver at his last remark.

Quicksilver somehow felt sick hearing all this. His sadistic plans, his cruel trap for her family and giving them the blame over his deeds. Felix was right. Sharp Beak was not to be messed around with. In fact, his plans were twisted evil.

And Gretchen. She was having the worst of it, being on the receiving end with everything that she had ever known being taken away from her.

After another moment of silence, Sharp Beak raised his talon and lifted her chin up to meet him in the eye. “It’s all very simple. You will agree to marry me. You will give up your own power and authority. You will give up your ancestral home, but you will be alive and well.” He paused, lifting her talon up with his own and overlapping hers with both of his.

“So Gretchen. Niece of the great and venerable General Quill. What do you say?” he asked.

Gretchen was silent. Quicksilver could see that she was conflicted, though uncertain to what extent. Though the outcome was the same: either she submits under him in forced marriage or she will die with the rest of her family and be framed for a crime that she didn’t commit. Quicksilver felt the urge to move, yet he also felt he should be patient. If at any given moment he did go there to stop him, he would use her as a shield against him.

After what felt like an eternity, Gretchen wordlessly looked up at the colonel, her right claw lifting until it rested on his shoulder. She had a look of worry, and Quicksilver couldn't help but feel that she was giving in. Her talon raised a little higher, caressing Sharp Beak‘s chin and tracing her talon up to the side of his head. Taking the initiative, Sharp Back lowered his head to meet hers, his beak ever nearing her own.

Then, without a warning, she brought her talons and scratched down his left eye.

Sharp Beak reeled in pain, his body taking several steps back as he clutched his wounded eye. Gretchen readied her talons, her right claw already covered in his blood.

“I will not be sold as some cheap whore that you will pleasure over! I will die with my family rather than see myself be wed to a bastard like you!” she screamed out, thrusting herself to attack him once more. He was waiting for her and immediately raised his claws to stop her mid strike, revealing three talon marks across his left eye. He wrestled her by smacking her body into a nearby table, knocking off the chairs and clattering them to the ground. He then pushed her back and lets loose a punch directly across her face. She reeled back for a moment and looked at him again, only to feel a second punch onto her other cheek. She doubled back again, but she lifted her claws and went to slash him.

However, Sharp Beak was quicker.

Outstretching his talon, he slashed at her abdomen and drawing blood. She cried out and fell back, clutching at her stomach and chest. Sharp Beak didn’t let up and he rushed forward by smacking her head against the table. She slumped to the ground from the blow and Sharp Beak looked at her in rage.

“You could have been spared if you had stayed by my side!” he yelled down at her still form. He then smiled wickedly, his tongue licking across his beak. “You’ll live, even if I must dismember a part of your body.” He lowered himself, seizing the end of her head and pulling her up to meet him in the eye.

“You’ll be fine and live, so long as your ‘special parts’ are in tact,” he said, giving a whiff of the air and shuddering slightly. “I can’t wait to take away your special flower and make you mine,” he said, grinning in some twisted fantasy.

“Oh, buck this.” Quicksilver lifted himself up and entered the room, a determined look present on his face.

“Quicksilver, stop!” Felix called out, but he ignored him. He was already halfway to the colonel when he heard his name being called out. The colonel turned and his eyes lit up as if he’d seen a ghost.

“You!” he said aghast, taking a stand on his back legs when Quicksilver was closer. Quicksilver lifted himself to meet his height and unfurl his wings to steady himself. He pulled back his right hoof and was ready to unleash it.

“Yeah, me!” he threw his punch and hit directly onto the left side of the colonel’s face. The impact hit hard, and the colonel flung back from the blow. He struck a table which broke at the center and the colonel was laid flat on his back.

That punch was well deserved he thought, his body feeling as sudden chill of satisfaction.

“Quicksilver!” he heard Felix behind him and he turned to see the Arch-Gryphon already at Gretchen’s side. “What have you done?” he said with an outraged look, but his attention soon focused on her wounds.

“I just gave that bloody, swine-eating snake a taste of his own medicine. What did you think I did!” he said rather loudly, uncertain to why Felix was going on about.

Felix shook his head and focused on her injuries. “Never mind that. I saw some cloth nearby, bring them over to me now!” he ordered, placing his talons over her wound, while she was still clinging to consciousness.

“But what about-” He turned to speak about Sharp Beak, but found that he was no longer on the broken table. Quicksilver noticed the back half of his legs scurrying out of the exit.

“Shit!” he cursed, taking a step forward to the exit.

“Quicksilver! The cloth! Now!” Felix demanded, regaining Quicksilver's attention. Within moments, Quicksilver saw the cloth on a nearby table and brought it over to him. Felix immediately began tearing it into scraps and using the longer strands to wrap around her body. Quicksilver saw that her wounds were deep; the three claw marks were visible and spilling slightly. Felix quickly worked on the wound and ensured that she was cared for. Gretchen then shook her head and narrowed her eyes to see him.

“Felix?” she asked, in bewilderment. Her eyes then wandered over to Quicksilver, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment. Dazed and eyes heavy, she squinted at him and tried to make sense of why he was here.

“Fletching?” she said in confusion, but soon her head lowered and she was out cold. Felix pressed a claw to her forehead, trying to see if she was still lingering.

“She might have a concussion, but I’m certain she’ll be alright. The more immediate problem is getting you both out of here,” he said, still checking on any other wounds before her.

Quicksilver gave him a peculiar look. “What are you going on about?” he asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

“Get your things, Quicksilver. You’re going to have a long journey ahead of you,” Felix said, ignoring his question. Quicksilver snorted in annoyance, but did as he was told. It took him a minute to gather the food supplies and settle them onto his back. The four bags were heavy, but since his time laboring here, he found that his body has grown accustomed to heavy lifting. When he went back to Felix’s side, he saw the Arch-Gryphon pacing about and muttering incoherent words that Quicksilver tried to follow.

“He would need to leave, take her with him. He made the claim by striking him and with Gretchen seeing him it brings about...” Felix paused, making small gestures with his claws and ignoring the fact that Quicksilver was next to him.

“Felix?”

“There is no way he can make it without aid. She will need to be tended to when he gets her safe.” Felix paced again, speaking more jumbled words that didn’t make much sense to him.

“Felix?” Quicksilver asked once more but was again ignored.

“To think that he of all gryphons, or pony in this case, would be able to assert himself in such a manner even when he has little to no formal knowledge of ancient gryphon customs.”

“Felix,” Quicksilver said, lifting a hoof and pressing onto his shoulder. Felix reacted by turning to him quickly and grasping at his shoulders. Quicksilver was taken back by the sudden move and found himself being held up in the Arch-Gryphon’s grip, which was surprisingly stronger than he previously noted. He stared at him for a moment, looking him dead in the eye.

“Quicksilver,” he began, still watching him and getting his full attention. “Listen to me carefully. There are certain things in gryphon customs and traditions that you don’t fully understand. What you did can not be fully explained in the short time you have, but understand that you will hold Gretchen’s life in your hooves,” Felix explained, yet not fully describing the situation.

Quicksilver was more confused and questions began to circle in his head. Felix soon let go, but his attention turned to Gretchen, who lied still on the ground with her chest rising up and down in her sleep.

“Gretchen. Will need to be protected. You must be her anchor and support.”

“Felix, I don’t understand what your talking about!” Quicksilver said in confusion and anger. “What do I have a part of this? What does Sharp Beak have do with all of this? Is there anything you’re hiding from me about him?” he demanded, but Felix ignored him and was fiddling with his necklace of crystals.

“There are some secrets that I am even bound to, nor can’t be explained in a short matter,” he replied, removing the necklace and offering the item to him. “Take this. These two crystals will help you on your journey.”

Quicksilver blinked in surprise and uncertainty. When he didn’t reply, Felix went over and began wrapping the necklace around his neck.

“Use them wisely. To employ them, simply call a prayer to Saint Gregor. If your heart is of good intentions, then he will answer,” he said, taking a step back to look at him.

“Felix. None of this makes sense,” Quicksilver said, flaying a hoof out in gesture.

“All will be revealed in time, Quicksilver,” Felix said, giving a small smile. Quicksilver paced about, his mind trying to unravel the strange customs or the conundrum that Felix has spoke. He went to Gretchen’s side, and all he could think is what he did that got Felix so rattled.

“And Quicksilver, one more thing.”

“What!?” he shouted, spinning his head to meet him before turning his attention back to Gretchen.

“I need you to punch me in the eye.”

Quicksilver was silent and he did a double take to the Arch-Gryphon. Felix had said it so bluntly that the pegasus was wondering he heard him right.

“Huh?” he said, lifting an brow to him and was both befuddled and wondered if Felix had lost his marbles.

“You heard me my friend. Punch me directly in the eye.” he explained, taking a simple stand before him.

“Why in all of Equestria would I do that?”

“To avoid any suspicion that I collaborated with you and helped an enemy combatant. Now do it,” he reasoned, standing still and staring at him dead in the eye.

Quicksilver’s ears fell back and he pulled back his lips in a slight frown, uncertain about the whole thing.

“But you’re too good to me. Why would I punch the only other gryphon who cared for me?”

“Quicksilver, this is necessary and convenient for both our sake's. Now get on with it,” he replied, a hint of annoyance was in his voice.

“But still, I-”

“Do it!” he shouted and on instinct Quicksilver threw his weight of his punch directly into Felix’s eye. His head snapped upward for a brief moment from the impact and his mouth hung open. He then looked back at him, his face contorting and adjusting from the blow.

“Well, that did it,” he said. Quicksilver bit his lip and was unsure if he was okay or out of his mind for making him do it. Felix moved to the side, and stared at the entrance for a brief moment, almost looking distant.

“Are you... alright?” Quicksilver asked, wondering if his punch did more harm than good.

“I’m fine, Quicksilver. Just need to rest... my little head...” he explained, but his words slurred and he fell forward to the ground and was out like a light.

Quiksilver was all alone.

“What did I do?” he asked himself, first looking at his hoof then over the two bodies of his caretakers. He had no idea what he had rambled on about, nor did he understand the implications. In fact, he was down right confused from the get go. Gryphon customs and traditions? He knew a little from what Gretchen had explained, but only general themes that they shared and upheld. He had no idea or how far back these traditions were, and no time to ponder on them. He knelt down to see to Gretchen, her wound had stained the cloth but was no longer bleeding.

As he observed her, he noticed a strange burning smell began to fill his nose. He sniffed and the smell of smoke began to fill the air. He coughed once and looked to the source of were the smell was coming from.

His eyes widened when he saw a part of the tent was up in flames.

He looked down and saw a broken lamp near the edge, and with the fire let loose, it grabbed onto the nearest object and sent flames up the tent wall.

“Oh, buck me,” he said. The lamp must’ve fell when Sharp Beak had landed onto the table and sent it to the side of the room.

Thinking quickly, he immediately grabbed Gretchen by the arm and hauled her onto his back. Her body weighed a little and the extra supplies didn’t help either, but he managed to hold his posture and continued to hold her up. He turned to the fire which was already blazing higher in the tent and he knew he had to get out. Using his right hoof, he grabbed Felix by the end of his cloth and dragged at the hem of his cloak. With the strength he could muster, he dragged Felix while carrying the unconscious hen and bags of supplies towards the exit.

After a minute, he managed to get outside and into the center of the camp. Casting a glance back, he saw that the fire was visible and slowly spreading to the rest of the tent and growing in size. He knew that if the fire was not stopped, it would destroy the rest of the supplies inside. Looking about, he spotted the dinner bell nearby. Seeing if there was no gryphon in sight, he made his way towards the item, dragging the unconscious body of Felix with him. Once he was next to the bell, he settled Felix right underneath it. He went to ring the bell with his hoof but hesitated.

He looked about the camp, unsure that if he alerted the camp inhabitants, but also the guards that were on patrol. No doubt the fire wasn't called out, but if he didn’t alert the camp then their whole supplies would be destroyed. Despite the fear, he had to do the right thing.

Quicksilver raised his hoof and pounded onto the bell. The bell rung sharp with each rap of his hoof. The sound carried throughout the camp, and he kept pummeling the bell for as long as he could. After over several dozen bangs upon the bell, a distant voice was heard in the background.

“What the blazes is going on!?”

“There’s a fire! Fire in the mess hall!”

“Get the the supplies quickly!”

“Alert every gryphon!”

The multitude of voices only grew as the entire camp was awakened. Wasting no time, Quicksilver made a beeline towards the direction of the cave entrance. With Felix behind near the bell and with the weight reduced, he weaved through the tents of awakening gryphons, who many began to leave their tents. He passed a few dazed gryphons who looked bewildered by the sight until their attention turned to the fire.

It didn’t take long for him to exit the sea of tents, and after a few minutes of constant running, he stopped until he was sitting in a small crater. He settled the sacks of food and looked up to see the fire was blazing in the distance. He saw many gryphons in the air overlooking the fire while others were carrying supplies out and into the air.

“Quiksilver,” a Prench voice spoke from behind, and he turned see Nightshade and his people quickly approaching him. They carried a few provisions that they had and nothing more. It almost surprised him how stealthy they came up to him; it was most likely one of their special traits of being thestrals.

“Nightshade!” he replied back in kind. Nightshade gave him a peculiar look when he spotted Gretchen on his back, but said nothing when he was at his side. The group of Thestrals huddled around him as he pushed the sacks of supplies forward.

“I grabbed as much as I could. I wish I could have gotten more,” he replied, to which Nightshade shook his head.

“You did all you could, my friend. Hurry, let’s divide up the load,” he explained. Several thestrals immediately dived into the sacks, emptying the contents in quick fashion and giving out to their own people. After a few minutes of them sorting out the provisions, Nightshade looked over to Quicksilver and pointed a hoof to Gretchen.

“Why do you carry the hen upon your back?” Nightshade asked. Quicksilver followed his gaze at Gretchen, who body still on his back with all of her appendages still hanging off of him.

“She was hurt bad. I couldn’t leave her with the colonel hanging about. Had to get her someplace safe, maybe get to her brother even,” he said, unsure of how it was possible. The possibility of getting caught or captured by the Nomad guards was increasing, and every second they spent their time out in the open, the more chance that they would see their quarry making an escape. After another uneasy minute of sorting out the supplies, Nightshade huddled his people close and spoke in a soft voice for them to hear.

“We have to get out of here while we can. With all of us together, I’m certain we can-” Nightshade was about to say when the most unexpected sound. One of the thestrals, a mare and stallion, were chirping loudly and in fear, pointing directly above them. Without needing a translation, Quicksilver turned up to look at what they saw and his eyes widened in fear.

A group of Nomad guards were bearing down on them, shouting and cursing their names.

“Run!” Quicksilver yelled, seizing one of the sacks of his own and hefting Gretchen onto his back as he took off running. The Thestrals followed behind, running as fast as their legs would carry them. Quicksilver could see the cave entrance up ahead. No guards patrolled it, most likely from the fire from the mess tent. He kept running, kept pushing his hooves onward. He checked on Gretchen, who still hung off his back. He turned his gaze upward, seeing the Nomad gryphons gaining speed, their cries for blood filling the air.

He couldn’t outrun them, not like this.

Quicksilver stopped in mid stride, sliding on the snow and turning to face them. With the thestrals running past him, he turned to face the incoming gryphons.

“Quicksilver!” Nightshade called out, turning on his heels to see him.

“Go Nightshade! Go!” he called out, gently placing Gretchen and his sack of supplies to the ground. Taking a stance, he readied himself for the incoming Nomads, and hearing the pounding hooves of the thestrals flee away.

“Surround him!” Black Talon’s voice was heard among the incoming group, and the gryphons did as they were told. The Nomads encircled him, their wings beating heavily and whipping up snow in the air. Quicksilver readied himself, looking at the group around him. There were a dozen of them, some heavily armed, while others carried a few halberds and spears. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes darted from target to target, wondering which gryphon will be the first to make the first strike.

Black Talon gave a huff of amusement, looking between him and Gretchen on the ground. He lifted a large hammer in his talons and pointed directly at Quicksilver. “Sharp Beak ordered for his death. Make it quick boys, otherwise you spoil the fun of his screaming,” he said while laughing in a sickening tone.

One of the nearby guards did just that, letting out a cry and rushing forward with his spear. Timing the lunge, Quicksilver dodged to the side and grabbed the spear mid-lunge, twisting the spear. The gryphon was spun by the momentum and crashed to the snow, weaponless. Quicksilver twisted the spear in his hooves, and stood on his back hooves.

He waited a long time for this.

“Don’t just stand there! Get him!” Black Talon yelled, pushing a few subordinates forward into the fight.

Quicksilver waved his spear wildly at them, keeping them back and waiting for an opening. On his left, the first gryphon lunged his bludgeon weapon, and Quicksilver turned his spear and knocked it to the side, slicing at the gryphon on the side and making him retreat a few steps. The second Nomad lunged at him with his sword, hacking in the air before bringing it down for a killing blow. Quicksilver dodged the swinging blade before deflecting it downward, causing the gryphon to stumble forward. Quicksilver leapt in aerial acrobatics and with his spear, lunged it behind the gryphon and straight into the back of his head. The gryphon was dead on impact, and he pulled the spear out, letting the body drop.

The gryphons around him shouted and three more charged him, forcing him back off from their attacks. He thrusted his spear into one of their shoulders, forcing one back, but the other two rushed him with open claws. He brought his spear up and smacked one across the head and spun on the ground to thrust the spear into his side. The spear struck armor, but with the momentum he was able to push the spear deeper until it punctured flesh. The gryphon cried out, clutching at his side. However, the third gryphon rushed him and tackled him to the ground.

He felt the air escape out of his lungs, feeling the large gryphon’s arms around his body. He then felt a talon pressed against his head, and he stared at the side, seeing Gretchen’s body staying were she was, vulnerable to any of the gryphons around him. The large gryphon straddled him and removed his one claw off his head, allowing him to see the gryphon ready a battle cry. The Nomad gryphon punched him several times, and Quicksilver lifted his front hooves, trying his best to avoid the blows. After several punishing blows, the gryphon lifted his talons and readied to strike.

That is until they heard a loud chittering noise.

Quicksilver watched the nomad turn his gaze to his right, only to be tackled by Nightshade. The two hit the ground hard, and Nightshade quickly raised his head and hissed at his enemy, then lunged his fangs straight into the Nomad gryphon’s neck, biting hard. The Nomad cried out in agonizing pain, and Quicksilver got up to assess the situation. He saw five more thestrals, all male, charge into the gryphons and fighting with hoof and fang. A small, brief smile graced his countenance.

They came back for their friend.

“They’re only bloody bats! Kill them all!” Black Talon ordered, tackling into one of the thestrals. A full on melee broke out among them. The gryphons had the advantage of armor and better weapons, yet the thestrals had their speed. Quicksilver turned his attention to Gretchen and spotted a Nomad bearing a large scar on his face lifting a large blade in his claws.

“Gretchen!” he yelled out and out of his instinct, his wings had broken loose from their remaining bonds. He charged forward with all of his speed, lifting his front hooves and colliding against the gryphon’s head. The gryphon fell back hard and dropped his sword into the ground. Seeing him dazed, it gave Quicksilver time to look upon Gretchen. She was still knocked out cold. A cry of anger raged in the air, causing him to turn his attention back on Black Talon.

“I’ll take care of this myself!” he screamed, marching forward with his own blade towards Gretchen. Quicksilver seized the fallen blade for his own and charged forward and placed himself in front of Black Talon. The corpulent gryphon cried out and brought his blade down hard, with Quicksilver barely blocking the heavy blow. The two locked blades together, and they both stared into each other’s eyes.

“I should have hurled your crippled body off the side of the damn mountain,” he said in anger, spittle coming out from whatever food he had in his beak. “You lived because of Sharp Beak‘s good graces. Now it is time for me to finish you.” He shoved Quicksilver back, and with blade in talon began swinging down at Quicksilver. The pegasus, using his wings to steady himself, even though it pained him, parried the blade. He then swung his blade at the gryphon’s side. Black Talon flicked the blade away with his sword and thrusted a blade towards Quicksilver’s shoulder. He quickly parried and managed to block it in time. Quicksilver backed up a bit, allowing him to sweep his sword towards the ground, hoping to cut Black Talon at the legs. Seeing this, the large gryphon hopped back, regained his footing and charged once again.

The two battled it out in a test of might and will. Blades clashed, parries were traded, verbal insults were shouted, but over a course of a few minutes the two still held their ground. Quicksilver huffed in exhaustion, but he still managed to have energy left in him. Although, he was quite befuddled by Black Talon. Despite his large exterior and ridiculous belly, the gryphon was quite nimble for his size. Able to keep up with him one on one, and was a more decent fighter then other gryphons he has faced. If he was at full strength, the battle would be over already; however, even with his wings crippled and not used for flight, he and Black Talon were evenly matched.

“I can go on with this all night! Come at me, you pest!” Black Talon yelled, reading his blade in a defensive stance. Quicksilver swallowed the lump in his throat and looked around. Two of the five thestrals were killed and the remaining three were using whatever they had to help Nightshade with the half of the gryphons. Their sacrifice would be in vain if he didn’t finish this up quickly. He readied his blade and swung it hard to Black Talon’s side, but the corpulent gryphon was ready and struck the blade with his own. A sharp crack was left on the blade’s true edge, and Quicksilver saw that the blade was not going to last another blow. Black Talon raised his blade once more and swung in a downward motion. Having no choice, he raised his sword to deflect it, but when the blades made contact his sword cracked even further and shattered by the forward momentum. Quicksilver jumped back looking at his shattered blade, which now resembled a broken dagger.

Black Talon laughed at the pitiful display. “Is that it? Is this all you can muster pegasus?” he pointed and laughed, believing he had already won. Despite the shattered weapon, Quicksilver still wielded the broken blade in hoof. Seeing this, Black Talon huffed in annoyance and readied to attack once more.

Before they could clash again, a loud and deep horn echoed throughout the chamber of the cave.

The combatants stopped, hearing the noise. Black Talon’s eyes widened in apparent fear and he turned around and looked up to the top of the cave. Quicksilver followed his gaze and at the roof of the cave, gryphons began pouring into the cave. Battle cries were heard and the deep horn was sounded once more.

“That bloody brigade is back!?” Black Talon yelled out in outrage. Quicksilver had a hopeful smile, realizing that General Quill’s Razor Claws had returned and would no doubt snuff out the coup. Seeing an opportunity, and with Black Talon distracted, he rushed forward with his broken blade and stabbed straight into the back of the plump gryphon.

The blade, however, struck the shoulder blade and Black Talon cried out in pain. The Nomad gryphon spun swiftly around, and Quicksilver felt his talon wrap around his neck. He was lifted up in the air and he choked slightly from the force. With his back legs, he kicked directly into Black Talon’s chest. However, it didn’t deter him, and with a mighty throw, Black Talon sent him into the ground, skidding on the frozen snow.

“You’ll pay for that, you scoundrel!” he said, taking a few steps forward, accompanied by two of his guards. Quicksilver lifted his head, seeing the blade was still embedded into Black Talon, and saw the two gryphon Nomads coming closer. He tried to back away, but one of the Nomads in heavy armor rushed forward and planted his heavy paw onto his chest, forcing him to stay on the ground. Quicksilver looked up in dread, seeing the heavy Nomad raising a halberd and ready to stab him. He narrowed his eyes and shouted at them in defiance and the gryphon lunged his weapon.

But was blindsided completely by a large mace smacking into him.

The Nomad gryphon was sent flying, and the sound of crunched metal filled the air. The gryphon spun once in the air before landing face first into the snow. A large blue shape came forward in Quicksilver’s line of sight and the blue figure raised his mace and brought it down onto the Nomad before he could get up. The helmet the gryphon wore disappeared under the mace with a solid crunch, and the body twitched before coming still.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise when he saw that it was Ironhide.

The second gryphon rushed to meet Quicksilver, but another large object, this time an axe, smacked him across the face and spun him around. He spun until he landed on his knees and claws, with a second minotaur coming forward. It was the same brown bull with tribal tattoos on its chest and his massive paws wrapped firmly on the Nomad’s head. With a few solid twists and loud cracking pops, the minotaur lifted up both paws and the gryphon’s head was removed from his shoulders.

Quicksilver watched Black Talon back away from the two minotaurs, who’d took out his guards with ease.

“Oh, bollocks to this! Run!” he called out, immediately taking flight. The other Nomad gryphons took off without question, heading off to parts unknown. Quicksilver raised himself up and stared at the back of Ironhide’s muscular frame. The bull breathed heavily in the cold night air, and his body seemed to give off much heat. The bull turned his head ever so slightly and his beady green eyes looked down to Quicksilver.

The two locked eyes, a sense of understanding seeming to pass between the two. Ironhide nodded to him, before turning toward his companion and the two headed off towards the encampment. Quicksilver saw up ahead that the camp was in chaos. He could hear fighting breaking out, and shouts and orders being called out with the fire still raging.

He turned back to the thestrals, and only four remained from the group that came to help. One of them carried a injured Nightshade on his back while other two grabbed any weapon that they could carry.

He hoped he was okay.

Quicksilver looked at them and they in turn turned to him at the chain of events that has happened. Quicksilver motioned his head towards the cave entrance.

Without a word exchanged, the thestrals took off towards the cave entrance with what they had, taking quick flight and making a break for it. Quicksilver looked down to Gretchen, seeing her body still remained unconscious on the cold floor. Not wanting anything to be left to chance, Quicksilver reached down and lifted her up.

He was probably making one of the most dumbest decisions in his life, but after how badly the gryphons came at him and threatened Gretchen he had no choice. He didn’t want to risk her well-being over his own. He quickly got Gretchen onto his shoulders and her body rested somewhat comfortably onto his back.

“There he is! Kill him!” A gryphon called out, making Quicksilver spin around. He cursed when he saw a pack of Nomads barreling down on him. Going down, he picked up his sack of food with his teeth, slung it on his back and bolted for the entrance.

His legs pounded upon the ground as he ran, kicking up snow into the air. He was too weary of battle and he had no chance to fight off this pack of gryphons, not on his own. So all he could do was run, flee as fast as he could before being overrunned.

He soon was inside the cave entrance. The place was nearly pitch black, were it not for a few torches outlining the walls and lighting his way. He galloped upon the hard stone walls, his hoof steps echoing and rebounding all around him. He could hear the sounds of clanking armor and shuffle of wings. The gryphon Nomads were gaining ground.

He kept running, kept pushing, hoping to get out of this alive. He heard a strong wind in the distance. He was getting close, so close to freedom he could almost taste it.

The Nomad gryphons were nearly upon him, he could hear breathing behind his neck. He didn’t dare look back, only doubling his efforts and making his final push towards the exit. With another burst of speed coursing through his body, he charged forward with every ounce of energy he had and took off faster and away from his pursuers.

The wind was louder, and he felt the cold snow upon the ground. He readied his wings, extending them to the farthest reach. The moment he was outside, he was hit by a blast of cold air and blinding snow, and he stopped in his tracks from it all. He looked behind, seeing the figures of the Nomad gryphons barreling right at him, seeing only their golden eyes filled with rage and hate.

Quicksilver’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks and he took off running, knowing what he was about to do was crazy and suicidal. Grabbing the supplies with his teeth and supporting Gretchen on his back he extended his wings. With a few kicks of his legs he galloped off the side of the mountain, with his hunters barely missing him by inches.

With his wings extended, he tried to keep himself steady with the sack of supplies in his mouth and with Gretchen resting on his back. His wings caught the wind and he soared into the maelstrom. A small smile seemed to grace him as he floated in the torrent wind and the brutal snow that pelted his coat. However, the joy of flight seemed to last for a few precious seconds before the pain began to be unbearable in his wings. He felt an updraft, knocking his wings off balance. He spun wildly in the air, his precious cargo falling off his back.

His screams were silent from the deafening storm around him, and he and Gretchen fell into the darkness of the mountain below.

Author's Note

There you have it. Another chapter for this amazing story. I do all hope you enjoy it.

Many of you thought this story was coming to an end? Well, lets just say there is a bit more coming your way!

The art piece for this section was done By Margony.
https://www.deviantart.com/margony/art/Escape-755421086
And Dragonfoxgirl!
https://www.deviantart.com/dragonfoxgirl/art/Angry-Quicksilver-Commission-759315182

These art pieces are so wonderful for this chapter and I can't thank them enough. Please do go check out there art.

I'll see you all in the next chapter!

The Hunt

Silverwing stood in the center of the encampment, the night coming down upon them like a thick blanket. She cast her gaze up to the see that the snow still descended down upon the camp and she frowned a little from this.

Will this storm ever let up? She thought. She looked upon the inhabitants with mild interest and wondered how things ended up the way they are.

Nearly six days ago, Brutus revealed that his remaining pack had joined them and they incorporated themselves into the camp. There were at least a half dozen tents intermingled with theirs, all filled with Diamond Dogs and all their possessions. Around ten to a dozen lived in each one, and she found it funny when she saw many of the dogs coming out of the tents like ants from an anthill.

She had also learned that most of the Diamond Dogs were brothers or even cousins from different litters. There were only a few hooful of dogs that were not interconnected. She watched in some fascination at how they worked and mingled like any of the Ponies or Cervines. They showed, in a way, a coltish attitude and brotherhood they had for one another. They also didn’t seem bothered at all that they were working alongside those who had once fought them.

Though it was a bit of the opposite with the rest of her companions.

The Cervines mostly kept to themselves and had been very wary of the Diamond Dogs since their arrival. Strong Oak kept his vigil as did many of his rangers for they not pleased to see them. They tolerated them being here; however, they didn’t openly talk with or help them in any way. Her equines were a little mixed in this, for some had mixed feelings with the Diamond Dogs, while others were openly grateful that they were here. They praised them in helping build the wall, which reached several feet higher since their stay, and shoring up its foundation so that the harsh winter winds wouldn’t blow the tents away.

They were even more thankful when the latrine pit was also dug and made it easier for everypony here.

Overall, their stay had been beneficial, and, given time, they would overcome their differences and work towards surviving the winter out here. However, she knew she would need to break the ice between Strong Oak and Brutus's pack if they were to make it through this together and to find her brother.

She looked to the center of camp, watching several of the Diamond Dogs moving supplies from their underground network, even tossing some logs into the fires to keep everything warm. She spotted Cooper among them, organizing and pointing to where some of the supplies needed to go. Curiosity getting the better of her she walked over to him and called out his name.

“Cooper! May I have a word?” she called out. Instantly, the yellow Diamond Dog perked up and quickly went to her side.

“Ah yes, Miss Pegasus. What can ole’ Cooper help you with?” he asked, his tail wagging from side to side in excitement. She repressed a small smile from taking over, and she motioned her head to the other Diamond Dogs.

“Just a simple question: How do you store everything underground? How expansive did you make these tunnels?” she asked.

Cooper lifted his head up, a big grin plastered on his face. “The tunnels? Well, they run for miles on end.” He gestured all around him. “We Diamond Dogs have large territories where there are no other inhabitants. We thrive in open spaces and make living finding gems and other minerals of use,” he said.

Silverwing nodded to him.

“We Diamond Dogs build tunnels like veins, stretching out for many miles. We dig, we build, making room for growing our pups, finding deposits, digging wells for freshwater or finding good soil to build our homes. When we need to, we even build training grounds for strong dogs to fight. You see, if two or more Diamond Dogs are after the same female, they fight for her by testing their strength. The training grounds even have a makeshift arena, and they all fight to be top dog. Some would give up and few would pass out or even die from it, but only the strongest will get the chance to be with their future mate.”

He paused, looking at the other Diamond Dogs around him before whispering to her. “Between you and me, we all strive to be like Brutus, yet he doesn't have a mate to call his own. Raising a pack and keeping them together is a tough challenge, even for him.”

“That’s a big task. I wouldn’t blame you all for wanting to raise a family,” she replied. “How do you keep the tunnels from collapsing?”

“Oh, that’s simple really. Diamond Dogs are known for building strong tunnels and trenches. We craft and build with care, making sure they stand for long periods without fearing of collapse. We Diamond Dogs are masters of phys… physica…. Physic… structural integrity,” he said, getting the word out after the initial struggle.

Silverwing gave a soft giggle at this, and Cooper took notice.

“It’s fine if you laugh. We Diamond Dogs are not that bright,” he said.

Silverwing shook her head to him. “I didn’t mean to sound like that,” she replied.

He gave a small smile before turning back to near the center of the camp. “If you want something funny, you can watch this,” he said. He looked to his vest and began fiddling around in it before pulling out a large sausage. She blinked in slight revulsion and wondered how long he was carrying it. He then pointed to a spot on the ground near the fire pit.

“That area I recently excavated without my brothers knowing,” he said, watching a few of the smaller Diamond Dogs walk over with ease. Silverwing then spotted a larger grayish Diamond Dog moving over with a small bag in his paws. Cooper turned to her and wiggled an eyebrow up and down before turning to the Diamond Dog.

“Oi, Rexxar” he called out. The larger Diamond Dog stopped and turned his head to see him. Cooper tossed the sausage over to him, and the Diamond Dog easily grabbed it with one paw. However, the moment he grabbed it, a sudden rumbling noise came from underneath. He looked down in surprise, and gave a rather loud yelp as he fell.

Silverwing nearly laughed out loud when the Diamond Dog fell straight to the open ground, his chest getting wedged into the floor. His massive arms and head were the only appendages sticking out. The other diamond dogs nearby began rolling in laughter, seeing their brother falling for the little trap. Cooper was in stitches, rolling on the snow with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, that does it! Come here!” Rexxar called out, lifting himself out and beginning to chase Cooper. The yellow Diamond Dog took off running, looping around the fire pit as the remaining Diamond Dogs continued their fit of laughter. The bigger Diamond Dog was nearly upon him, while the remaining inhabitants of the camp looked on and wondered what was happening. Rexxar soon caught up with Cooper, tackling him to the ground. The other Diamond Dogs either cheered them on or continued to chortle at the sight of the wrestling dogs.

Silverwing smiled at the sight, seeing how well they got along. Though her smile soon faded when she spotted Strong Oak giving a cold stare at the Diamond Dogs. The proud Cervine only shook his head and turned to face the fire before him.

Silverwing knew he didn’t like the Diamond Dogs, but in order to get through this, he would have to make peace with them.

She made her way over to them, watching the Cervine silently watch the fire in deep contemplation. Once she was at his side, she settled down near the fire and gave a tired sigh.

“Strong Oak, can we talk?” she asked, not directly looking at him.

“I’ve got to speak with my warriors. I won’t have time to-” he began to say, but she cut him off by a wave of her hoof.

“You’re not going to ignore me. You’ve been distant since the Diamond Dogs have arrived, and I want your full clarity.” She paused, letting the words sink in. She then turned to face him and saw the distant look in his eyes.

“Strong Oak. Answer me. Why do you have such animosity against the Diamond Dogs? They are not the same as the ones you fought before. Just tell me, Strong Oak,” she said, almost demanding.

The Cervine remained silent, still looking at the fire before him. After nearly a full minute of silence, he gave a defeated sigh and turned to her.

“Can we please speak in private. I don’t want to-”

“No,” Silverwing interjected. “You’ve been avoiding me for long enough. You will tell me what grieves you and don’t mull over any-”

She didn’t get to finish when she felt a hoof pressed against her mouth. He gave her a deadpan expression and kept his hoof where it was.

“You’re just as persistent as Quicksilver,” he mentioned, releasing his hoof away from her. He took a moment to look back at the fire before taking another breath.

“It happened many years ago, when my kind fought against them in the earlier years of the war, right after the battle of the Craig. After the battle was won, we rounded up every Diamond Dog that either surrendered or were caught and kept them behind the lines. My forces were deployed to keep watch over the prisoners until we could secure them to a better location.” He paused, taking a quick intake of breath. “But there was one diamond dog, larger than the rest, who managed to break free.

“This particular Diamond Dog was far more cunning than his brethren. He was a trickster, fooling some of my colleagues for want of food and water for his brethren. When they got close, he pounced on them. He killed them with ease, freeing hundreds of Diamond Dogs and causing chaos among the ranks.”

He paused once more, a shudder coursing through his body. “We stopped the rebellion, but at a great cost. Over two hundred of our best scouts and rangers were slain, died by that rogue and those he freed. Going over the bodies, we searched everywhere for him, but it was later revealed he had escaped our rangers.”

Silverwing blinked in surprise. She had remembered the massacre of the Cervine. It was one thing to be outmaneuvered by a dozen diamond dogs, but for all of it to be caused by one Diamond Dog… That was something that should not be possible.

“You ever wonder how more of my White Tail Rangers managed to get to us?” he said, turning his attention to her. “I had sent them ahead for a different reason.” His voice grew lower. “My rangers and I are on a hunt, searching for this elusive Diamond Dog who’s escaped us for years. He is the real reason why my brethren and I are out here, not just for your brother.”

Silverwing took a moment to let his words sink in. Much of her lingering questions have been answered by his explanation, but she could not fathom to what extent he had to suffer in hunting this dog.

“I had no idea, Strong Oak. You having to endure so much pain and hardship, holding this grudge. I can see why your animosity with the Diamond Dogs is so great,” she said.

Strong Oak nodded, eyeing the Diamond Dogs around the camp. “At first with Brutus, I didn’t think anything of him. Just another victim of this war. When I noticed the signs and the possibilities of more Diamond Dogs, however, I believed that the trickster would be among them. That was why I’ve been so hostile to them for so long. I’m still hesitant, but I can confirm that none of these Diamond Dogs are the one we seek,” he explained, looking back at the fire and rubbed his hooves together to keep warm.

“You keep mentioning this Diamond Dog. Can you at least give me a name?” she asked, leaning her head closer to see his face.

“He has a distinguishing scar on his left eye, and he was taller than any other Diamond Dog that I have seen. Cunning and savagery is what beholds him.”

He then hesitated. He was uncertain if he should continue until he turned back to look at her.

“The trickster’s name was Lupin,” he said.

The moment he mentioned the name, something crashed behind them. Both Silverwing and Strong Oak looked to the disturbance and saw a Diamond Dog had dropped a crate, its contents scattered about on the snow.

“MAD DOG?!” the Diamond Dog shouted, his fangs bared and the hairs on the back of its neck raised up. More growls emanated around them, the other Diamond Dogs having stopped in their tasks and with anger in their eyes.

“Traitor!” one of the Diamond Dogs called out.

“Thieving cur!” another Diamond Dog yelled.

“Where’s that weasel?!” another Dog growled as he approached the fire. Silverwing stood up, seeing the aggression and anger in their eyes when he mentioned that name. Their reaction did not go unnoticed, as the Cervine rangers gathered and had weapons at the ready, but were stopped when Strong Oak raised his hoof.

“What’s all this then?!” Brutus called out among the group of Diamond Dogs, approaching the two.

“Strong Oak said a name of a diamond dog named Lupin,” she explained.

Brutus’s eyes flared. He took several deep breaths before turning towards his pack.

“Heel! Down, boys!” he called out. The moment he did, many of the Diamond Dogs lowered their heads, some giving off growls of annoyance or irritation, but the majority of them went silent.

“You say of the Dog known as Lupin?” Brutus asked, turning his attention to Strong Oak.

The Cervine leader lifted himself up, staring back at the Diamond Dog. “Yes. You know of whom I speak?” Strong Oak asked, standing tall in front of Brutus.

Brutus nodded, a hint of anger present on the usually passive Diamond Dog.

“Brutus knows of the one you speak,” he said. He looked back at his pack, giving a stern look so that they remained where they were.

“Lupin joined our pack many seasons ago. He was a drifter, lost from his pack. Saying that he had fled from the war and wanted to escape.” He turned back to face Strong Oak. “Feeling pity for him, we took him as one of our own. Over time, we grew to trust him. Lupin helped with our tasks, building our homes, finding suitable food for our growing packs and helping to defend the den. After so long, we believed him to be one of ours.

“That is, until the Horned Ones came.

“The moment they found us, Lupin took many of our mates with him. He claimed many as his own, and took off towards the mountains. Half of pack was trying to find him and find safe passage, while the rest tried to flee towards own territoires. Brutus hated him more than Cervine know,” he said.

Strong Oak took a step to him and the two stared at one another for a time. “You seek the trickster as much as I do? What about the yaks that you wish to have vengeance upon?” Strong Oak asked. His nose snorted out air in the cold wind.

Brutus turned his head ever so slightly.

“Horned Ones are one matter, our mates and brood mothers another. Brutus wish nothing more than to see them safe. If Horned Ones come pack’s way, then pack deal with them,” he said.

Strong Oak looked him over, and Silverwing took notice of his contemplation. Whatever was going on his mind, it could lead for the better in cooperation between their parties.

“No doubt there are differences between us, and we’ll both be uneasy of this trust. However, there is at least one we can at least agree on: finding your bitches, and in turn finding Lupin.” Strong Oak said, his voice softening just a little from his earlier irritation.

“Then Brutus pack and Cervine have accord?” Brutus asked, folding his arms across and looking down at him.

Strong Oak nodded in kind. “We are in agreement, Brutus,” he replied.

With that, Brutus smacked his chest with his paw before turning towards his pack. The latter soon calmed down when Brutus spoke to them.

Strong Oak settled himself back near the fire, outstretching his hooves to receive it’s warmth. Silverwing looked down at him with brow raised.

“Since when did you know about Diamond Dogs’ bitches?” she asked, a small hint of a smile present.

Strong Oak looked back up to her with an equally hidden smile.

“When fighting in a war, you tend to learn a thing a two,” he replied. He turned back to the fire when a sudden gust of wind spread among the camp. Silverwing shivered slightly.

“The storm will be returning tonight. Get some rest, Silverwing,” Strong Oak said, standing up and turning toward his Cervine. They had lowered their weapons and conversed as if nothing happened between the Dogs and themselves.

Silverwing watched him head off as she looked up to the open skies. Snow was gradually falling down, and it was slowly picking up speed. The weather had been brutal the past few days, and she had no doubt it will only linger in the days to come.

However, despite what the weather brought upon them, she at least was grateful that the ice was broken between Strong Oak and Brutus. No doubt this common foe would help ease the tensions between them and allow them to work together.

She blinked once, pushing some of the snow that had accumulated on her mane. She felt tired, more so than days before. She decided to head back to her tent and rest for the night. However, her mind still lingered on her brother.

She dearly hoped and prayed that he was alright.

“I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill that Equine!” Ebon nearly yelled out as he paced about the open fire.

“Calm yourself, Ebon,” Felix said, holding a clump of snow over his left eye.

Ebon turned with a fumed expression. “Calm! My sister is gone! That equine stole her! How can I be calm!” he yelled, kicking up snow in the air and looked about the area.

Ebon was surrounded by a few trusted retainers, including Deadeye and Buck Wing. Both had their share of cuts and bruises, as well as having their bodies covered in bandages. The coup that Sharp Beak attempted was ultimately broken. The arrival of the Razor Claw Brigade swiftly took out the rest of the combatants, along with the help of the Minotaurs. The garrison at the barracks had all but surrendered, with only a few older Nomads fighting to the last gryphon. General Quill thankfully was still alive, and he even persuaded many of the defectors to lay down their arms.

Despite that victory, Sharp Beak, his lackey Black Talon and a number of ardent supporters that rounded around more than a few dozen strong had escaped in the middle of the fight. He was nowhere to be found, and it was too dangerous to go out in the middle of the storm.

Frustration and anger welled up inside Ebon, and he broke an already destroyed bench next to him. He felt a claw on his shoulder, and he whirled around to strike at the perpetrator. He stopped mid-swing, when he saw that his uncle had blocked his blow.

“Peace, my nephew. Your anger is only blinding you,” he said in his calm and rumbling voice.

Ebon exasperated and began to pace in a circle. “Uncle, I trusted the equine. I trusted that he would be true to his word and bring not only Felix to safety, but in the chance he found Gretchen, that he would bring her to me,” he stated, pointing a talon at the Arch-Gryphon. “But look! He struck Felix, stole supplies from the mess tent and ran off with her. My own gryphons witnessed her being carried on his back when he ran past them.”

Ebon looked to the fire before him, a certain gleam going across his eyes from the flame. “I wonder if his kindness and help was him worming into our trust and severing it when he got the chance to escape.”

“Brother! Don’t take your anger out on him,” Deadeye shouted, clutching at his wounded shoulder. “I told him to take off and leave this place. I didn’t expect him to be burning the mess tent and flee with our sister,” he said.

Ebon looked at him with a questioning gaze. “He didn’t seem the sort to be that of a villain,” the voice of Buck Wing said. Ebon turned to the veteran. His white body and blue feathers glistened from the fires nearby, and his green eyes showed much disappointment. “That equine saved my life and told me of Deadeye’s location. If he hadn't directed me to him, your brother would have passed out from blood loss.”

“I’m not dead yet, Buck Wing,” Deadeye stated, wincing a bit when he moved to meet him.

“I don’t blame you for that, brother. We wouldn’t know what would have happened if Sharp Beak was still in control. But still, Quicksilver. What he did after and fleeing with the Thestrals and with my sister in tow. We managed to save nearly all of our resources before the fire consumed the rest. For that, it jeopardized our supplies for all of us. I cannot forgive him,” Ebon said, turning to his companions.

“Ebon,” General Quill’s voice called to him. “You don’t know how it went down. He might have been afraid, and maybe out of fear, decided to flee with what he had and took Gretchen with him too.”

“To use as leverage,” Ebon interjected, his uncle closing his beak and remaining silent. He turned to Felix, who had dropped the snow over his eye to get a fresh batch. A nice shiner was visible over his left eye.

“You told me the full truth, yes? Gretchen was inside the tent when Quicksilver appeared with the supplies? After which he knocked you out and stole her from under your beak?” Ebon asked, staring at the Arch-Mage with a hint of scrutiny.

Felix stood up and stared at him with passionless face. “Yes. He knocked me out the moment he saw me, and I don’t remember anything until I awoke under the dinner bell,” he replied, his face ever remaining the same.

Ebon looked at him for a second longer, believing his story to be true. Nodding to him, he turned to the gryphons around him. “Have the gryphons ready for flight. We have to give calls to any scouts willing to brave the storm. Get Talon Wing and Sky Rider too.”

“Ebon! Listen to me!” General Quill ordered, making his young nephew freeze from the commanding voice. Ebon was startled by his uncle’s tone and turned at attention to him. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but many of the gryphons are in no condition for flight. We have over five hundred gryphons who were brought in from the invasion that are both weary from flight and exhausted from the battle. Around a hundred gryphons that were stationed here are dead and the remainder are so severely injured that they are not capable of travel nor flight. To top it off, around five out of the twenty officers that I brought with me are alive, yet many of the recruits are leaderless and don’t know what to do or who to guide them.

"They need guidance, they need a strong morale anchor, and more importantly, they need a leader to follow in this trying time. You cannot lead if those who follow are too weak to stand,” he said, giving out each observant view that weighed heavily on his mind.

Ebon looked away, ashamed at his hastily made plan. Taking a breath, he turned back to his uncle.

“Uncle. I’m… I never wanted to put harm on my men. But my sister. I can’t just stand idle while she is out there. Freezing in the cold and alone with that wretched Equine.”

“I’m certain that she will be in good hooves. I don’t think that Quicksilver is the sort of Equine that would do her harm. But listen to me, my nephew and please listen well,” he said, closing the distance between them. His uncle placed a claw onto his shoulder in assurance. “You're not the only one that worries for her. But if you let your passion turn to blood lust and vengeance, then you be no different then Sharp Beak and his pawns,” he explained.

Ebon blinked at him once. A small sensation went through his body from hearing his words; he hated being on the same terms as the colonel. Looking back at his uncle and his caring eyes, he saw only compassion for him. What a fool he would become if he stopped to his level.

He nodded slowly to his uncle and humbly bowed to him. “Uncle. I… thank you. I won’t lose myself to pride.”

“I know you won’t, Ebon,” he replied. He felt the back of his head held by his uncle’s claw, and his head was lowered until it pressed against his. He felt this feeling before long ago.

It was a feeling he had missed when his father was still alive.

After a moment of silence passed between them, his uncle drew away and turned to the other gryphons around them.

“Ensure that every gryphon is cared for and treated fairly. Get them sorted into their new officers and keep things in order. I want you all to be ready in case Sharp Beak ever tries to make a move on the encampment. I must tend to other matters,” he said, turning to speak with Felix.

The other gryphons soon dispersed, leaving only Ebon who turned to his uncle, giving a questioning gaze.

“You’re leaving?” Ebon asked.

“Yes. I have other business that requires my attention, particularly with the king. He has much to answer for this massacre,” he said, lifting Felix onto all fours.

“Uncle, you can’t just leave. What about your brigade? What of your obligations as general?” he asked.

His uncle looked at him with a placid expression and a small smile gracing his noble features. “You need not worry. They are in capable claws with you.” he explained.

Ebon was taken aback by his words. “Me? In charge of all these gryphons? It was one thing handling the camp with a few hundred souls, but that is more than triple the number of gryphons here,” he breathed out in exasperation.

“Which I’m certain that you will handle. You will lead my Razor Claw Brigade. The fresh recruits, along with the minotaur mercenaries. You will need to organize them in a united force, and that can work together to weather this storm. Once the storm outside these walls clears, you can send out scouts to find Gretchen and locate Sharp Beak. No doubt he will go after her if given the chance.”

“But… But how will I-” Ebon tried to sputter before his Uncle lifted a claw to him.

“You will know in time, Ebon. You will know when the time is right,” he explained.

“After your business with the dotard, what will you do next?” he asked.

A small smile graced on his uncle’s tired face. “I’m thinking of visiting my old cabin. It’s been many a year since I’ve last been there. It wouldn’t hurt to visit,” he explained, leaving Ebon silent. “I wish you safe travels, my nephew. Take care now,” he added. He then turned his undivided attention to Felix.

Ebon cast a glance to the distance, a distant memory forming in his mind.

Ebon had only been there at least twice in his lifetime. They were only times of peace when he visited. The cabin was situated twenty miles north of here, and had a special spot nestled in the mountain that cast its view to the valley below.

Satisfied with his answers, Ebon nodded to him and left their side. Much planning and work needed to be done in the coming days. However, he did slow down enough to linger a little and turn his head back to see his uncle. Uncle Quill was conversing with Felix, the two sharing some story or some other, but he did notice a serious expression on Felix’s face when his uncle spoke. General Quill looked troubled by whatever Felix spoke, yet their voices were too soft for him to pick up.

He never often saw his uncle look nervous or unsettled by matters. However, deep within himself, he had an uneasy feeling about all this. A feeling so strong and connected with his uncle that it made him feel it will go away forever, like it will be the last time he would see him.

He wondered if Uncle Quill had something else that was worth mentioning.

He ignored the thought and decided to focus on what’s ahead: getting his sister back. He made his way to the encampment and hopefully to earn some rest. Before he reached his tent, his final thoughts lingered on with him for the rest of the night.

“Please be safe, Gretchen.”

Author's Note

Hope you enjoy this little development of a chapter. More chapters will be coming soon. Just waiting for some good art to come in. :raritywink:

Winter's Spirit

The High Talon Mountains. A place of both beauty and danger. The towering mountains stood tall at over fourteen thousand feet and ranged for many miles. The highest peaks resembled that of Gryphon talons jetting out into the air. At least, they did to the Gryphons. The local Prench believed them to be created by strong deities who battled among the mountain range long ago. Even from a distance they were imposing, resembling and sometimes mistaken for grand rolling hills. Up close, the mighty stone and earth looked far more menacing, yet all the same filled with much grandeur.

Despite its size and appearance, within the mountain range was a magnificent sight to behold.

The mountain range was littered with many paths and tall trees that covered the base. Any weary traveler caught in it would be in a maze of treacherous paths and long forgotten roads. Those foreign to its soil who dared go through would be lucky enough to make it out of those creeping woods. However, despite the mystery and danger on the surface, the grandest of views is looking at it from above. The mountains had numerous canyons, gorges, and massive rivers that flowed through the rough terrain.

During the spring and summer seasons, the lands are teeming with life. Lush greens and hues of blue run through the mountains and ravines, where much of the wildlife resided. The sparrows and great eagles would fly high in the mountains, and the wild boars and wolves roamed in the woods below. The sights of this would make any artist grasp just a fraction of the great beauty of these mountains.

However, when winter came, the land would change to a much harsher realm.

The mountains would be covered in every inch with snow, and the setting suns would only grasp the lands within a few hours of light before turning to darkness once again. The long winding rivers would freeze over, and the waterfalls would be frozen in time. Not yet ready to fall, yet at the same time ready to descend. The birds would have all flown south to warmer climates, while the hardest animals would find shelter and hibernate through the brutal winters. Those that remained would find it difficult to find any meager meal and proper shelter from the constant storms and harsh winds around the hills.

Tonight was no different. The land was covered in snow, and it grew by the feet from the recent storms. The edges of the mountains and the mountain floor below was covered in every inch of winter's embrace. Nothing was touched, nothing was scratched, and no prints disturbed the fresh powered and snow. Upon a nearby slope, however, a body laid upon the snow, creating a deep crater within the fresh powder.

The body of an equine which began to stir upon the mountainside.

A slow hum of the snow and wind blew across the land. It was all he could hear. Quicksilver opened his eyes, his body numb from the cold. The snow around him was strangely warm to him somehow, and his body seemed to embrace it. He blinked once, his eyes struggling to close and open. A single thought coursed through his mind.

I’m alive?

He blinked once more, staring at the darkened sky. His eyes widened.

I’m ALIVE!

His head burst out first from the snow, gasping out for air. He was instantly met with the harsh wind that struck his coat and wings, blowing his mane wildly. He groaned in agony as he pulled himself up from the crater. He hurt everywhere, sore from head to tail, and his body would not stop shaking. When he tried to bring his wings in, he felt they would peel off at any moment from the slicing wind.

He collapsed for a moment on top the snow, taking steady breaths. He placed a hoof to his chest, feeling two objects that hung around his neck. Looking down, he saw the stone jewel and the two crystals that stayed on the ground. He heaved out air and lifted himself once more, his legs protesting from the numbing sensation. He shielded his eyes from the wind that slapped his face and threatened to make him fall once again. He lifted a hoof to his face, trying to look at his surroundings. Yet everywhere he looked was pitch black, and he could only discern anything within a few feet in front of him.

How far did we fall? he thought, looking up to see the darkened sky above. His mind soon raced upon realization of his missing passenger.

“Gretchen!” he called out. His voice was silent upon the raging storm, save a faint echo came back at him.

“Gretchen!” he began searching the area around him, looking for any signs of life.

“Gretchen! Answer me!” he yelled. Panic began to grow in his mind. Gretchen had helped him so much since his stay, and now her life was in jeopardy because he thought he could-

He ignored the last thought. It was not his immediate concern.

After a few moments of searching and finding no other crater, he began to dig around himself, hoping by some off chance that her body was just covered in the snow. He dug deep with his hooves, the cold making the edge of his heels chilled and numb, but he ignored the discomfort and kept digging.

He dug a few more feet when he felt something under his hooves. A surge of hope went through his body, and he dug deeper into the loose powder and snow, grabbing something that felt like fur. He put his hoof underneath, hoping that what he grabbed was Gretchen underneath.

What he pulled up instead was a dead corpse of an elderly thestral.

He screamed and fell back, dropping the corpse where it was. He placed a hoof to his chest; he felt his already pumping heart get shot with more adrenaline. He looked back down at the corpse, and saw the elderly face of the lithe thestral and its body laying haphazardly in the snow.

Now I know what they did with their bodies, he thought, imagining how high they must have fell. He looked up, and a niggling thought came into his mind of how far they fell and how they managed to survive.

Getting back to his hooves, he continued to scavenge the area until he heard something move underneath nearby. Looking at his right, he saw snow crumble to the ground. Even in the darkness, he saw something poke out of the snow.

A single talon was sticking out in the air.

Gretchen!

He immediately went over and began to plow the snow off of her. Relief washed over him like a flame, and his body worked in over time in getting her out of the snow. After a minute of digging, he saw a tuft of feathers sticking out that looked like the back of her head. Being quick, yet delicate, he carefully lowered his teeth until he grasped the feathers in his mouth. Inch by careful inch, he pulled her body out of the blanket of snow. When he saw her face and beak breaking the surface, he used the last of his strength to pull her fully out.

Letting go of her feathers, he quickly looked at her body. She was lying still and her eyes were closed shut. The bandage around her chest was loose and a mess. He saw her beak open and that she was breathing, yet it was painfully faint. He placed his head onto her chest, listening for a heartbeat. He heard a distinct th-thump sound, but even that was faint as well. Quicksilver lifted his head, searching around for anything around them. The blizzard was swirling and battering his body, making him shake profusely from the bone freezing wind.

We gotta get out of here, he thought, looking around for anything that would resemble a path or some kind of route that would lead off the mountain. Looking around, he also spotted the sack of food, with a few of its contents scattered around. He quickly headed over and gathered what he could. He wrapped the sack around his neck, and he turned to head back to Gretchen’s side. He saw her feathers bristle from the wind, and he had to shield his eyes from the strong gust that came over them. He looked around once more and saw what looked like a path downward was near the wall of the mountain. He smiled weakly, but that soon disappeared when he focused his attention onto Gretchen.

This is not going to get easy.

He lowered himself until he was next to her side. Grabbing her by the neck and body, he lifted her onto his shoulders. Her body felt like ice when it touched his fur, and he shuddered from the sensation. He maneuvered her lower half until he could feel her midsection rest upon his back. Lifting up, he had Gretchen rest somewhat comfortably onto his back, though the downside was her limbs dragged in the knee high snow, and he was left struggling to move the weight of both her and the sack of supplies. He breathed heavily from the weight.

“C’mon. You were through much worse than this. C'mon!” he yelled in self-motivation. His hooves carried him towards the mountain path.

The first few yards were met with difficulty. The snow was thick and blocked his way, but he managed to get himself through and began hugging the wall of the mountain. He stayed as close as possible, the wind whipping wildly around him as he pushed forward. At a steady yet slow pace, he began walking along the mountain path, trying his best from not collapsing against the harsh winds and weather. He squinted his eyes and he could barely see what was in front of him.

He carried Gretchen on his back, her claw and back legs still dragging behind him due to the higher snow. Strangely enough, he found after the first few minutes of him walking that his back was feeling rather warmer. He didn’t know if was the result of her feathers on his back or because of the heavy load. Either way, he was grateful for the most part in getting extra warmth. He continued to carry her, and, for a time, his heavy breathing and the blasting frost were his only companions.

Minutes ticked by as he moved, the wind slapping him on his side and forcing his eyes to close. He barely opened them a crack to see what was in front of him. He kept pushing, still moving forward from winter's wrath. After nearly thirty minutes to a full hour of trudging on, his body was beginning to waver and lose strength. He stopped near a small mound of snow that stood near the wall of the mountain. A large tree was next to him, which allowed him to rest underneath its cover. He planted his hooves on the ground, and he emptied his lungs with every breath.

Are we even going to make it? he thought. Around him, all he could see was darkness. The snow was coming in droves, and his body was heavily weighed down by his passenger and the cold.

He sighed deeply. I can’t give up now.

He pressed on, hoping that by some miracle they can get out of this alive.

What he didn’t call for was his hoof getting tripped over a buried root and face-planting in the mound of snow.

Are you kidding me!?

He was not only buried in snow, but Gretchen was lying on top of him, pinning him down. He struggled for a moment, wiggling his head so that it could poke out from the snowy layer. He gasped for breath when he breached the surface and felt Gretchen’s body slide forward on his back. Her head nestled right next to his left cheek, her feathers brushing up against his fur. He grunted in annoyance in trying to lift his body up, but his legs were too weak to stand. After a moment’s struggle, he gave up and rested himself between the snow and the heavy gryphon (though he wouldn’t outright tell her that).

He looked at her from his position, seeing her face right next to his. She was still breathing and her eyes were shut. He didn’t know how long she would remain out, but he knew they couldn’t stay out here for much longer. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he tried to pull himself up and off the snow. He managed to lift his head up, but only momentarily. He sighed in defeat when his head fell back down and faced the wall of the mountain.

There was a hole in front of him.

Quicksilver blinked once, his eyes flicking out any frost away. He didn’t know if what he was staring at was there before or if he was just hallucinating from the cold. Raising his right hoof, he brushed at the hole in front of him, hoping that he was still sane. When he brushed the hole, the snow around it fell and it grew bigger. His eyes widened, and he felt a tug of relief rip on his heart.

“A Cave!” he thought and said in unison. He dug deeper with his hoof, pushing away more of the snow that was in his way. When a good amount was cleared, he dragged himself out from under Gretchen and was able to get back on his hooves. His back legs felt sore from the cold, and the warmth that Gretchen provided had evaporated the moment he stood. However, it was the least bit of concern as he began to clear the mound of snow and dig his way into the cave.

After a few good minutes of digging and his hooves kicking off large mounds off the mountain side, the cave entrance was open for them. Grabbing Gretchen by the nape with his teeth, he dragged her into the cave entrance.

Darkness enveloped him when he entered. The cave was chilled to the bone, and he barely could see his breath in the air. He heard the rustle of dead leaves and branches underneath his hooves, cracking and crumbling with each step. After moving about ten feet or so away from the entrance, he dropped Gretchen to the side and dropped the sack of supplies. He groaned when his body was finally relieved of the heavy burden.

Though there was still work to be done.

Grabbing his sack, he pulled out a blanket that luckily enough was not wet. He unfurled it and placed it over Gretchen’s body, making sure it kept her warm. Once finished, he looked about the interior of the cave. It was small in scale from what the light outside showed, and he didn’t want to delve into it any deeper. A far more important task was needed.

A fire pit to keep both of them warm.

Searching the ground in the dark enclosures, he gathered many of the leaves around him and tried to find any dead branches and roots that stuck out from the nearby tree. With every breath, he shuddered profusely from the cold. He didn’t know how long he was out there, but he needed to get warmth as soon as possible. Once he gathered a significant amount, he moved to what he believed was the center of the small cave. He began forming a small leaf pile in the center of the room and dug a small pit in the ground around it. He had to make do with what little light he had from outside. Once he ensured the leaves would hold in the center, he fumbled around for any large rock that would be used. He searched the area that was close to the entrance, occasionally bumping next to Gretchen’s body. He soon found a rather large stone that fit the size of his hoof, and with that began to search around for another.

It’s got to be here. It has to be, he thought, still scavenging for another stone of the same size. When his search turned fruitless, he sat on his haunches in front of the empty fire pit, his teeth chattering slightly from the cold.

He then felt the small stone bounce against his chest. He looked down at the thestral’s gift, and remembered that it had a sharp edge when he fiddled with it before.

Better late than never, he thought, seizing the stone necklace off his neck and position it so that he would strike the other stone together. Once he positioned them just right, he brought them down hard upon one another.

Both stones clacked from impact, yet no sparks were struck.

He frowned in disappointment and he struck again upon the stone. Still no spark was made.

“Please not now,” he said through chattering teeth. He repeatedly struck the stones together, trying in a desperate attempt to create fire. He worked tirelessly for several minutes, beating the stones at the appropriate angles, yet no matter how many times he cracked the stones, no spark would sputter out.

“C’mon. I don’t want to freeze to death! Just work!” He struck the stones together at a rapid pace, so fast he thought it might pulverize the stones by his strength. Then, in the moment of his desperate labor, a spark flew out from the stone and landed in the leaves.

He drew a sharp intake of breath as the spark of flame caught on the leaves. He huddled low, his hooves surrounding the small ember, trying to ensure it got enough air but not to much. He blew gently against it, pleading dozens of times for it not to go out. The leaves soon caught on, and the flame was slowly growing into a tiny flame. He gently added more leaves next to them, feeding the tiny flames more fuel for life. When it was big enough, he added a few small sticks and began making a cone shaped fort around the flames, while continuing to add more leaves into the center. Smoke rose up and blinded him for a brief moment, and he backed away as the flames consumed the small leaves and twigs.

He made his fire.

“YES! I made Fire!” he proclaimed, feeling the need to jump around from his great deed.

Yet, despite his achievement, nothing shouted back at him. Only silence.

He looked about the room as the light of the fire illuminated the room. The cave was much smaller then he had hoped. It was about six to ten feet in height, yet there was enough room to house at least a dozen ponies or more. He wondered if this was just a natural cave, or if it was made by other creatures. He didn’t delve on it before he decided to gather as much wood as possible.

Minutes ticked by as he scavenged for wood and leaves to fuel the fire. During this transaction, the blood in his body was warming him up from all the movement, and the fire nearby heated and dried out his wet coat. When he had the strength, he dragged Gretchen away from the entrance and towards the back of the cave. He kept the blanket on her and made sure that she stayed warm before going to collect more dead branches and leaves around him. He managed to break some stubborn roots that crawled their way inside, and drag them into a neat pile that was close enough to the fire. After he was finished, he had a neat pile of extra wood and leaves, and the fire was big enough for him to mange.

Once done, he rested himself down and observed his work.

He breathed heavily, but also steadily as he watched the fire burn nicely before him. The smoke crawled on the ceiling before being whisked away from the storm outside. His weary bones felt heated as he stayed near the fire, and he’d occasionally toss a few broken branches in to keep it going. The room was picked clean of any dead branches, and there was enough to last them through the night if need be.

Looking down to the thestral stone, he saw it remained where he left it. Picking it up, he observed it and saw there was no damage done to it. The other stone he used was scratched up with multiple slash points, yet the stone he held remained undamaged. He pressed his lips to it and gave it a kiss.

Thank you, Nightshade, he thought, soon placing it back over his neck and letting it rest comfortably on his fur. Knowing they were safe and sheltered, he decided to check on Gretchen. He walked over to her, her back legs facing the fire while her body remained still under the blanket. Her breathing was steady, yet slow. Troubled by this, he placed a hoof onto her forehead, checking to see if she had a fever. She felt warm to the touch, and yet he was unsure if it was just her body returning to its proper temperature after being in the cold for so long. He lifted his hoof away, his eyes tracing down her body to see if there was anything else worth noting.

He eyes stopped when he saw a noticeable blood stain on the blanket that was slowly spreading.

“No.” He lifted the blanket up, hoping by some miracle that what he was seeing was not happening. With the blanket fully off her and tossed to the side of the cave, he stared in horror of his worst fear.

Her bandages were red and unwrapped. Her wound has reopened.

“No, no, no, no, no!” he panicked. He immediately went to the sack, searching for anything that he could use. He rummaged through the sack, finding only the food inside. He cursed and tossed the sack to the side and looked upon the wound. The bandages were still leaking, and her breath was becoming all the more slower. He grabbed the bandages and removed them, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. His eyes set upon the three claw marks that spread across her stomach. They were bleeding more now from when it was held by the cloth, and it was slowly oozing out. He thought how this could have happened, why the wound had reopened? He turned to the fire and realization hit him.

With the freezing cold from outside, the wound would have remained still. Since the fall and her being near the fire, the wound had reopened.

Taking action, he placed both of his hooves onto the wound, pressing down so that it would slow the bleeding. Gretchen groaned in discomfort, her face contorting slightly from the pressure. His thoughts turned to the blanket. He could possibly cut out strips to make a makeshift bandage, but it would remove one of the few sources of warmth from the harsh cold. When she groaned again and her breathing became more ragged, he decided to focus on the task at hoof. It would have taken too much time to cut the cloth before she would bleed out. He pressed further, the blood soaking his hooves. Gretchen’s breathing began to slow again, but the blood still flowed out. He cursed under his breath multiple times, unsure of what he could do, looking at the supplies and Gretchen.

In the midst of his frantic movement, he felt the other item that was wrapped around his neck. Looking down, he saw the two crystals that Felix gave him. His eyes widened at how his mind blanked of not thinking of it sooner. With little choice, he removed his hooves, yanked one of the crystals and crushed it in his hooves.

He said to crush and spread, he thought, remembering Felix's words. He performed the action, rubbing the crystallized particles in his hooves. Once done, he placed his hooves back onto her wound. Gretchen squirmed from his touch, yet he held firm.

What did he say next? Pray to Saint Gregor?

He looked down at Gretchen. Her breathing was slower than before. Taking a quick breath, his groggy throat spoke out into the air.

“Saint Gregor. Please help me in my hour of need. Heal this gryphon who has risked everything to keep me alive,” he said. Nothing happened and no blue aura came out of his hooves. Snorting in frustration, he closed his eyes and prayed again.

“Saint Gregor. By your great light and vast wisdom. Lend me your graces to aid your fellow Gryphon. Please heal her spirit,” he finished a little frantically and looked down at this hooves. Nothing happened, and Gretchen was slipping away from him as her breathing slowed dramatically, and a ever faint exhale drew out of her. His heart felt plucked out of his chest, and he raised his left hoof onto her chest. Her heartbeat was far slower than before. Quicksilver scowled and he screamed in frustration.

“Damn it! What do you want me to do!?” he pressed both of his hooves further onto the wound, trying to stop the blood from flowing any further. ”I’ve done everything that is possible! I’ve went through bucking Tartarus to escape and now she is slipping away!” he continued to rant in frustration, unable to hold back his emotions from pouring out.

“I’ve done everything I can to keep her safe, and now she is dying in my hooves! She helped me, Saint Gregor! She saved me during my long imprisonment and torture!” As he continued on, he didn’t realized that tears were flowing freely down his face.

“She gave me solace, she kept me warmth, she broke bread with me. She even was punished for her kindness and generosity!” His tears flowed further, splatting against her feathers and fur as he stared at the wound.

“She was the only Gryphon that treated me and soothed my weary heart,” he looked up to the top of the cave and shouted to the very heavens themselves of his sheer pain and agony.

“How can I repay all of what’s she has done if I can’t even save her!” he cried out. His words echoed from within the cave. His breath became ragged and everything seemed to darken around him as he closed his vision. He lowered his head, soft sobs emanating from him as he whimpered in defeat.

“Please…I need Gretchen. (sob) I need her. (sob) Please.”

Silence was all that answered him. He opened his eyes and looked at the wound.

It still remained, yet the blood had ceased flowing. He looked to Gretchen who remained still.

He closed his eyes and fresh tears fell down his face, his heart was broken.

…
…
...

Do you call upon my name?

A strange deep voice entered in his mind.

He opened his eyes in alarm, his breath caught in his throat. He was still staring at Gretchen’s wound, yet the room around them had a low hue of blue. A claw came in his vision in front of him, and a talon gently lifted his chin. His head was raised high until he stared at a Gryphon.

A blue Ethereal Gryphon.

The Gryphon was large, bigger than Ebon or any other Gryphon he had seen. His clothing was similar in appearance to what Felix would wear, but it was more simple and refined. Potions and flasks hung off his belt, and each had writing that was not even recognizable in Gryphon or Equestrian. When his eyes traced to the Gryphon’s, a soft glow came out of the Gryphon’s eyes. He gave a warm smile, the kind that would melt any sadness and grief that would befell any pony or gryphon. The mysterious gryphon lowered a talon from his chin and Quicksilver could only sputter out a single name.

“Gre… Gregor?” He asked in uncertainty and astonishment.

The blue Gryphon nodded his head.

I am.

Quicksilver heard his voice in his mind, yet the Gryphon never moved his beak to speak. He didn’t know what to make of this. The Gryphon before him was Saint Gregor. The same Gryphon that Felix and many of his kind worshiped. He didn’t know if he had gone mad and crawled into a corner, or if he was having delusions of some grand being. Yet as he stared at him, feeling the talon still on his chin, he thought that what he was staring at was a ghost or spirit that had returned from the grave.

“Am I going mad?” he asked.

The Gryphon narrowed his eyes slightly and a deep chuckle came out of him.

You are not, Young Quicksilver.

His claw lowered until it brushed the top of Gretchen's head. His talons pressed onto her feathers, brushing them aside and stoking her gently. He hummed softly, which seemed to vibrate in the air around him.

Gretchen Jaeger. Such a young life. Full of hardship and heartache. Such pain she has endured. Much like you, she has also suffered.

Quicksilver blinked at him and followed his gaze down to Gretchen’s. She was breathing softly in a dream-like state, never stirring by Gregor’s touch. He wondered to what pain she had gone through, yet he was unsure if he wished to hear of it.

The ethereal Gryphon turned his head to face him.

You wish of me to heal her. For what reason do you wish of this?

Quicksilver lifted his head, and felt he was punched in the stomach.

“What do you mean!? I’m asking you to heal her! Heal the scar that is threatening her very life,” he replied. He gave a pleading look as he continued to hold down on the wound.

Gregor looked at the grievous wound, seeing the effort he was putting in keeping her stable.

You are not a Gryphon, therefore you’re a foreigner to me of asking in such a task.

He paused. Closing his eyes as Quicksilver waited in anxiety and fear.

However, your prayer came from the heart. Something truly pure and special that could have called me to you now.

He opened his eyes, his face relaxing and gave another warm smile.

Let me rephrase my query onto you. What is Gretchen worth to you?

Quicksilver fell silent. All the flurry in his mind had ceased and he tried to process the question. What Gretchen was worth? What she did for him? The times she had spent at her side and tending to his wounds?

As his mind tried to wrap around the question, he started to feel small. He felt many eyes were upon him, ready to suffocate him at any given moment. Gretchen was his caretaker, there was no doubt, and she risked everything to protect him. When he looked back at the ethereal ghost, he didn’t know what to say if anything to the grand gryphon.

“Gretchen… I still need her..” he started, his words fumbling out as he spoke. “Currently, I only wish to keep her alive and well so that I can escape these mountains. She knows them better than I, and if we are to survive this together, I would need her to get us out of here.”

He looked to Gregor and saw he had a neutral expression. However, his right eyebrow curled in a questioning gaze, and he knew full well that he had avoided the question. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously spoke his mind.

“Gretchen is important!” he began, but immediately was beginning to shake. He felt he was confessing to a sin, yet he needed to get it out. It was burning sensation that burned in his heart and he had to unleash it, channeling his feelings to the ethereal gryphon. “She did so much for me, risked much of her own standing to care for me.” He was trembling now, his mind trying to speak the proper words that Gregor would approve, but his heart kept speaking for him.

“She has done so much in caring for me and helping me, and right now I feel obligated in helping her! I want her to live! Whatever has happened in her past, I want to help. I don’t want her to be trampled like some forgotten flower. I refuse to let her be forgotten and what she did for me! There are those who would fight and harm her, their hateful words like knives that plays with her life by a thread!” He felt his heart racing as he spoke, all the while Gregor remained silent to his cries. “There are some who will try to control her, to own her! I don’t want her freedom to be stolen just like mine was!” He practically sobbed the last of the words out, raising his head to the sky once more.

“Deep in my soul, there is no doubt that I owe her more then my life! No hesitation, I will repay her kindness that she had given onto me! If Sharp Beak or anypony else decided to come after her, then I will protect her with my life!” He was sobbing once again his tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

“There I said it! I don’t know what else you want of me! I only want for her to have a better life! I feel… no… I believe her more than a friend! I-”

He was cut off by a gentle touch to the shoulder. He froze in place and looked to ancient Gryphon. Gregor’s smile grew, and a deep chuckle emanated deep within him. A strange feeling coursed through Quicksilver, and he winced slightly from the pain that went in his body. He closed his eyes as Gregor’s voice lingered in his mind.

So that is where your heart lies. That is good, young Quicksilver. That is good.

Even when his eyes closed, a flash of light appeared to have blinded him. A moment passed, and the strange feeling remained. Daring to open his eyes, he saw that the room had lost its bluish hue, and the flames from the fire were spread on the wall.

His eyes traced down, and he gasped in surprise. Around his hooves, he could see the blue aura had wrapped around his forelegs. They moved the same way when Felix had performed magic. His eyes looked past his hooves, and he saw the wound that Gretchen bore. In instinct, he pressed his hooves down onto the wound, the blue magic dancing and spinning now more than ever.

Closing his eyes, he poured his whole concentration into the wound. He felt the magic around his hooves dance and fling about as they spread onto the claw marks. The blood stopped flowing, and Gretchen’s body was stirring under his hooves. He concentrated, focusing all of his thoughts to heal her wound. Whatever the magic he was using, it warped and flowed through him and into Gretchen. He dared open an eye, and he saw the wound sewing itself back together, the fur and feathers crawling its way back to its original shape.

A little more, just a little more!

His body began to shake again, and yet he focused all his attention, gritting his teeth as he felt the last of the Gryphon magic flow off his hooves and heal the wound. He groaned in discomfort, feeling his fur was going to peel off his body from the magic leaving him. After what felt like an excruciating hour, he saw the final cuts on her belly clear away, leaving nothing but a flawless surface. Like a splinter being removed, Quicksilver gasped in relief and looked to Gretchen, her body made whole by the magic, and yet she was still. Uncertain that the magic had fully healed her, he moved his head closer to inspect her.

What he didn’t expect next was for Gretchen to lunge her body upward and gasp for fresh air, nearly scaring him half to death.

Quicksilver backed away for a brief moment, watching her eyes shoot up in shock. She breathed heavily, her chest lifting up and down from the trauma. For a brief moment, she kept doing this, her gaze looking about the room in a panic before settling back down where she was. Her eyes lowered and her golden eyes briefly met his own. Confusion remained in them for a mere second before she slipped to unconsciousness and her breathing returning to a normal state.

Quicksilver sighed heavily, still keeping his eyes on her.

She was alive, thanks to Gregor, and he had nothing more than his utmost thanks.

Be sure to keep on that promise, Quicksilver. I have high hopes for you.

Gregor’s voice lingered in his mind, yet he barely registered it. He chuckled to himself as his body began to sway. He had been tasked greatly from the fighting, laboring and caring, and he felt drained of any energy to do anything else. He looked to the wall in front of him and took a deep breath and sighed once again, knowing in full confidence that he had did what was impossible.

Then, with his body feeling heavy, he collapsed next to Gretchen’s side, sleep overtaking him.

Author's Note

Glad you all came for this chapter. Things have turned a dramatic turn and the two are still okay, but what will happen in the next chapter? Stay tuned.

Artist for this chapter are Orartaina. I really enjoyed how she managed to get the look for that scene.
https://www.deviantart.com/orfartina/art/Snowdonia-762279213
The next artist is Turnipberry. Again I can't thank this artist enough for making such an amazing piece.
https://www.deviantart.com/turnipberry/art/Commission-Wounded-760164498

Complete Candor

Hammer awoke from his warm bed, feeling the presence of a pony next to him. He looked to his right and thankfully saw Silverwing situated with her back turned to him. The past few nights, they would sleep together in the makeshift bed, and in some unfortunate mornings, would wake up having their hooves overlapping each other. This morning was an exception; his captain was still sound asleep and on her side of the bed. Not that he minded their hooves touching, but it would save the embarrassment.

He also noticed that she had been sleeping a lot more lately. He didn't know if it was result of the storm that still raged outside the walls, the constant stress of going leading the camp, or possibly be in relation to her brother. He might be overthinking it. He lifted his head up and heard the familiar sound of his stomach beginning to growl. Knowing breakfast was going to be made soon, he decided to get up and get an early morning meal.

He headed outside, the cold wind chilling him on contact. It was snowing lightly; hopefully the storm had let up somewhat before they all hunkered down again. He looked about and saw that several of his fellow guards were up and about. They were not alone, as he spotted a few Diamond Dogs preparing their own meals near the fires and for their fellow pack mates. He had grown accustomed to the sight of them eating meat.

Normally more timid ponies would look away in revulsion and curse those who partake in a carnivorous diet. However, out here in the wilderness, the Dogs were survivors just as they were. Wanting to get something in his belly, he headed toward the mess tent, where a line of hungry Ponies and Cervines were gathered.

Sticking in the line, he waited patiently for his morning breakfast. Everypony was silent or mumbling to themselves, wanting to get a hot meal in them. He scanned his eyes across the waking camp. The militia and other guards exited their tents and greeted the frozen morning. Near the edge of the giant snow wall, which has been shored up by the Diamond Dogs, he saw a dozen or so Cervine practicing with their weapons. Among them was Strong Oak, drilling his rangers and ensuring that they were prepared at all times. It amazed him at times to how far they are willing to go. But as the old saying goes, one can not be too careful.

The line moved for him and took a few steps forward, when a few equines came behind him.

“Ah, Charger, Shadow Hunter. Good morning,” he said, spotting his companion and the militia leader. Charger wiped away the sleep from his eyes while the Prench commander gave a loud yawn.

“Good morning to you as well,” Shadow Hunter replied, releasing his drawn out yawn and smacking his lips afterward.

“How’s the shoulder?” Charger asked. Hammer rolled his wounded shoulder and felt it twinge from the movement.

“It stings a little. Probably need to change of fresh bandages.”

“Be sure to check in with Cottontail and Swift Leaf. I’m certain they will have what you need,” Shadow Hunter said, bringing his cloak closer and breathing heavily into his hoof. Hammer nodded, and he thought about the last time he saw them. The last he heard, they were talking to Anvil with his story.

In fact, he’d hardly seen him since this storm had started, and that was at least a week ago.

The line moved forward, and the three of them were the next in line. The chef, a rather round unicorn, was busy cooking in a small pan, which was filled with eggs and what looked like hash browns. A Cervine was also inside, preparing a large soup that smelled of barley and carrots. The cook turned and gave a warm smile to the three of them.

“Hey there, fellas. Hope you're hungry. Got some good potatoes cut up and made with some scrambled eggs,” he said while scooping them up with a small spatula and setting them into small bowls. After a few seconds, he offered the bowls with his magic and the three eagerly accepted them. Charger, when holding his bowl, took a strong whiff and gave a heavenly sigh.

“It sure smells good. What did you put in it?” Charger asked.

“It’s an old family recipe. Though I’m not going to say how it’s made, and it's nothing you won't eat” the cook replied with a chuckle, returning to his work and readying the next order.

The three left the cook and settled themselves in front of the main fire. They sat quietly as they ate their food. Hammer’s taste buds buzzed from the food, and he hummed in satisfaction. As they continued to eat, they saw more of their companions and the Diamond Dogs coming on by and bringing their own meals. Soon enough, at least half of the camp was already eating their breakfast. It certainly amazed him how former enemies had turned allies in these times. After a few more moments, Hammer noticed that Charger gave a loud yawn to his side.

“Didn’t sleep well?” he asked.

Charger merely shrugged to him. “Just a bad nightmare, that’s all,” he replied, focusing on his meal.

“What was it about?” he asked. He didn’t want to pry, but was curious about his companions’ well-being.

“It was about that filly I buried back in that village. I dreamed that she was still alive, still wondering where everypony had gone. I even imagined myself. That I...that I had a little one of my own,” he explained, finishing the rest of his food and settling the bowl by his hooves. Hammer remained silent as Charger rubbed a hoof onto his face.

“Sorry to hear about that, Charger,” Hammer said, sympathy in his voice.

“That’s not even the worst of it,” he added.

“There’s more?” Shadow Hunter asked.

“Yeah. I dreamed I was married to a beautiful mare and had a wonderful life. However, when I was home with her, some Griffons and one of those Yak beasts came and held me at knife point.” He shuddered for a moment before continuing. “I was trapped, separated from the one I loved. Those griffons held a sword at my throat, my chest, and down at my-”

“Pickles and eggs!” The three turned their heads to see a Diamond Dog coming out of a hole, carrying two large barrels while chewing on a large pickle. The Diamond Dogs eagerly helped themselves to the barrels and prepared their morning breakfast. Hammer turned to Shadow Hunter and Charger, the latter looking equally stunned. The three soon shared a laugh, letting their mirth sink in. After a moment, Charger gave a tired sigh and brushed a hoof onto his arm.

“You get my point at least. I always imagined having a family. I want to have a little filly, and I will tell her all that I know. Though I fear the longer this war goes on, I will never have a chance at raising a family.” He finished and moved his hooves closer to the fire to keep warm.

“I know that feeling too, Charger,” Shadow Hunter responded, “I too have a son, though I never met him. I wish to meet him and my own beloved. Though it’s been so long since I last seen them, and I sometimes question if they will ever recognize me.”

Hammer had their sympathy, though he hadn’t yet sired any children nor found a mare to care for. The only one he truly liked was Silverwing, even if he hadn't told her his true feelings. He folded his ears back and looked away from the fire, lost in thought.

“Was Silverwing still asleep when you came about?” Shadow Hunter asked. Hammer turned to the old veteran, a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah. She was still asleep when I awoke. Why do you ask?” He watched Shadow Hunter grumble at his reply and brushed a hoof under his chin.

“That mare was awake last night, watching the fire pits and stargazing,” he explained.

Hammer curled an eyebrow at him. It was probably nothing, but the way he sounded made it sound more concerning.

“You think she was just keeping watch?” he asked, but Shadow Hunter shook his head.

“She’s been doing this for the past several nights. I’ve seen her up late and getting less sleep as each day passes and my militia conveyed with me on their shifts that she stares up to the sky for hours on end,” He turned to look at Hammer, who blinked in surprise and whose eyes settled back on the tent.

“Why would she be doing that?”

“I don’t know. Though I worry for her. The stress and the constant worry for her brother has taken its toll. The blizzard has not helped either, and we have no choice but to hunker down until it passes. I fear for her well-being. I dare not say it but if her brother is gone, I fear that she would break down badly at such news. I’ve seen it in others before,” he said.

“Silverwing has not been sleeping?” Hammer said almost to himself. Charger tapped at his shoulder and drew both his and Shadow Hunter’s attention.

“She may be a strong leader. But all strong leaders have their limits. I hope she will be fit to lead, but she won’t be unless she gets herself more sleep and mentally prepares for any outcome.” he explained.

Hammer nodded and look back at the tent he slept in. I really hope you are okay, Silverwing, he thought as he stretched his shoulder. He felt the familiar twinge and knew he would need to get it checked.

Standing up to stretch his legs, he dismissed himself from his companions and headed over to Swift Leaf’s tent. He knew he needed fresh bandages and possibly more of that paste so that his wound wouldn't sting as much. Within a minute, he soon found himself in front of their tent.

Though he heard voices already speaking inside, one of which is a distinct and familiar voice. Narrowing his eyes and curiosity getting the better of him, he pushed open the tent entrance and poked his head in.

What he saw next quite surprised him.

Anvil was sitting on his haunches while Swift Leaf applied a gel onto his wounded eye and Cottontail was speaking to him. The room was littered with a bunch of written papers, both smooth and crumbled. Their room had a small desk in the corner that held various herbs and powders, the smells assaulting his nose with varying degrees. Hanging above were a few flasks and a few tree branches of various origins. In the center of the room, right were Anvil was sitting, were a couple of occupied bedrolls. He wondered if they belonged to the Cervine or if Anvil had brought one in.

After a moment of staring at them, Anvil was the first to notice him.

“Oh hey, Hammer. Come in,” he said nonchalantly. Hammer walked in, still trying to get his mind wrapped around at what he’d been doing for the last week.

“What have you been doing? I haven’t seen you for half a fortnight,” he asked, almost dreading to hear the reply.

“Well, Swift Leaf has been kind enough to share some of their history and folklore, and well, I’ve been delving into our past as well to share.”

“So what does Swift Leaf’s hooves on your face have to do with sharing cultural histories?” Hammer asked, being a little skeptical but having a certain interest about what they have been discussing. Anvil looked to answer when Swift Leaf gave a warm smile.

“His wound over his eye was giving him some irritation. I am merely helping ease his discomfort,” she explained, applying the ointment tenderly upon his face. Hammer smirked when Anvil winced slightly from the pain, Swift Leaf’s hoof moving across each of the scars.

“See. This scar will heal in no time,” he said, though it sounded forced to the point he was trying to contain the urge to shout.

“I see. It does look less worse than it was before,” Hammer observed with a slight smug on his face.

“Really?” he said near high pitch voice when Swift Leaf touch the scar above his eye.

“Yeah. But the mares still won’t kiss ya,” Hammer retorted. This caused Anvil to laugh it off, while Swift Leaf paused in her work, a humorous smile on her face. While in their mirth, Cottontail turned to look to Hammer.

“I presume that your shoulder has been bothering you?” she said, taking a stand to greet him. He nodded to her, and she went to her small table with the herbs and flasks. She plucked one with her hoof, grabbed a fresh bandage roll and gave it to him.

“Be sure to apply it gently in the affected areas. Once done, make sure you apply the fresh bandages,” she explained. He nodded in kind and went to leave, but stopped and turned to her.

“Thank you, Cottontail. I can’t thank you enough for helping us. For what you do for us, you have my utmost thanks,” he said.

She gave a small smile and inclined her head. “If there was peace, we would share much of our culture with Equestria. The potential of pursuing the highest arts, poetry, medicine. There would be so much that can be shared between our people. It’s a dream worth reaching once the war is over,” she said, and he smiled at the thought.

Hammer said his farewell to Anvil, who stood idle as Swift Leaf applied the rest of the treatment onto his eye. He noticed a smile on her face while treating him, and Anvil himself was quite content with her care. A curiosity grew within him about the two, about how well they got along and how they shared their experiences with one another.

He simply shook his head at the fun sight and headed outside.

Hammer made his way towards his tent with Silverwing. While moving, he kept an eye on the growing number of Equines, Cervine, and Diamond Dogs that had all gathered about the camp, eating their meals and enjoying each other's company. He still heard the training of the Cervine, and he thought he heard the clashing of blades. He paid it no mind and instead headed for the tent. When he moved closer, however, he remembered Shadow Hunter’s words. Silverwing had not been feeling the same, and that she had the tendency of going to bed later and later in the night.

Were his words true? Is she having some anxiety or a fear that is keeping her restless at night? The question lingered in his mind, and he wondered if being cooped up in this camp was causing her to be less active. He could hardly imagine what she might be going through, not being able to reach her brother. He too worried for his former lieutenant, and wondered if Quicksilver was still alive.

He took a deep breath. He would have to confront her with this possibility if this was one of her fears.

He soon entered the tent, settling the fresh bandage and the ointment to the side. He spotted Silverwing, still fast asleep, her cloak removed her eyes shut and their were bags under them. Pity grew in his heart, and he worried that she was pushing herself too much over this. Deciding to get his mind off the issue, he worked on getting the old bandage removed.

He sat on his haunches and pulled on a loose cloth with one of his hooves. He pulled it, and the bandage came loose. He winced slightly as the scar became exposed, and the smell from the old bandage whiffed in the air. He cringed when he pulled the old bandage over a sensitive region, and he took a few short breaths to calm himself. He would need a clear mind when he does the task himself.

“Hammer?” Silverwing’s voice broke through his concentration. He looked over, seeing Silverwing awake and her eyes tracing to his wounded shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Hammer said nothing, seeing her eyes were glazed and looking very worn out.

“It’s nothing. Just changing the old bandages. Go get some sleep,” he replied, trying to ease her worry.

“Let me help, at least.” She immediately stood up, not giving him a chance to protest. She was already up and next to his shoulder, pulling off the final bandages. When the final cloth came off, she gave a small gasp, but it sounded muffled.

Hammer turned to look at her, seeing her tired eyes widen. “How bad does it look?” he asked, trying to speak in a calm manner.

She looked at him, then back at the wound. “It’s healed much better since your last cleaning, but...” She was hesitant, trying to look for the right words.

He already knew what the reply was.

“The scar will be permanent, won’t it?” he replied, turning his head away.

“Yes,” she replied, no longer avoiding the answer.

Hammer raised his right hoof and placed it at the base of his left shoulder. He traced it upward, feeling a small thin line that used to be muscle and fur. He traced it up further, feeling the scar spread underneath his hooves. The muscles that remained were distorted and lifeless. He felt the muscles bend strangely over the stitching that he felt, and he could tell some parts were missing. He grimaced, the eerie feeling of the Griffon’s beak piercing his shoulder remaining on his mind. He shuddered from the memory and finished tracing the hoof to the back of his shoulder. The scar was in an x shape, with the scar heavily in the center with missing flesh and muscle. He lowered his hoof down, but was stopped when he felt Silverwing’s hoof over his own. He opened his eyes and looked to her, and she gave a sympathetic smile.

Let me help you, her eyes seemed to say. Those beautiful blue eyes showed more sympathy then he wished to ask for. He inclined his head, and she went to grab the ointment. After a few silent moments between them, she opened the bottle and poured the ointment onto her hooves. The smell of elderberries filled the room. Once done, she hovered over his left shoulder and steadied herself.

“You ready?” she asked. He nodded to her, steeling his mind for the pain that would come. Without another word, she pressed the wound with the ointment. He grimaced, the numbing sensation on his left shoulder intensifying. However, it was offset by the gentle touch that Silverwing had. She gently rubbed back and forth in the central spot of his scar. The touch was soothing and he eased into it. He sighed as she continued her work, massaging the wound with tender care.

“This is quite nice,” he said with a smile, the pain subsiding as the ointment was kicking in. The numbing sensation remained, but he could still feel her hooves move around his shoulder and neck. The tension in the muscles eased and relaxed as she kneaded into the flesh.

“At least you're enjoying yourself,” Silverwing replied with a little laugh, “Hopefully once your back on your hooves and these storms clear, then we can be one step closer to getting my brother back,” she said, her hooves now repeated in dragging across his neck and down his left shoulder.

His smile lowered slightly.

He knew the chances were high when they first set out to find him. But with nearly a month passing by, he knew the chances would be lower with each passing day. With them being trapped in this storm, the chances were dropping by every waking moment trapped here. He didn’t want to say anything to upset her, but he knew something had to be said.

“That should do it,” she said, her hooves dragging one last time over the wound before grabbing the nearby bandage. A part of him wished it lasted a minute longer. Unfurling it, she began to wrap it around his left shoulder, working to make sure it was done the same way as before.

Hammer swallowed a lump in his throat before turning to her. He would hate himself for this, but it had to be said.

“Silverwing?” he asked, watching as she wrapped the bandages around his shoulder, then around his body.

“Yes, Hammer? What is it?” she asked, her voice soft as she brought the bandage back around and wrapped it around his shoulder once more.

“It’s about your brother.”

She stopped. Her eyes opened slightly, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

“What about him?” she said with a questionable voice, continuing to help bandage his shoulder, though more slowly than before. He worried his next words might offend her, but he knew he had to get this out to her, and hoped to get her reluctant heart to hear the possibility.

“I know when we first left Prancy, we knew that it would have taken us a few good weeks to reach him. However, with our constant stops, the storms, the Diamond Dogs, and the barbarian you faced, I can’t help but think that the chances of him being alive is slim to-”

“He’s alive, Hammer. I won’t give up hope,” she said, her speed on the bandage increasing slightly. “I worry for him. Yet I know he is stronger than most ponies would see. He’ll pull through, and I’ll be holding him up when I see him once more. I can't wait to hold him in my hooves and let him know he is finally safe from those despicable griffons.”

Hammer’s expression turned to worry by his captain’s assumptions. “But what if-”

“No, Hammer. I won’t hear another word. He is still alive, I know it,” she said. Irritation was in her voice, and she was being a little rough on tying the bandage. He pressed on, despite her disinterest.

“Silverwing, you have to understand this possibility-”

“I’m not hearing this, so drop this subject,” she said. Anger was in her voice and she finished tying the wound, the bandage being rather tight around his wound.

“...that the off chance that he-”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this.” She tried to ignore him, yet he still kept going, standing up to face her.

“-could be already too far to retrieve-”

“Hammer!”

“-or possibly dead.”

“SHUT UP!” Silverwing snapped. Hammer flinched in surprise but stood his ground. Silverwing snorted at him in anger. He never saw her snap like that before and never be so quick to anger. He never realized that mentioning the possible outcome for her brother would lead to such strong emotion.

Either she was dreading the thought already or the fact that not letting go of hope had caused her to become this way. It would explain much of her actions of what Shadow Hunter had described, and why she hasn't been getting enough sleep at night. He raised a hoof to her in order to calm her.

“Silverwing...we don’t know what is going on and we don’t know what will happen. We have to prepare for that outcome if it comes to be.”

“You don’t think I know that!?” she yelled back, stamping her hoof into the ground. “You think that I don’t worry for him?! To know that he might be beaten within a inch of his life, to imagine him locked in a cage for the rest of his life!? To stay behind bars until his use and old age take away everything he has!?” She took a step forward, her wings flared out and appearing all the more intimidating.

Hammer continued to remain steadfast before her.

“I know what’s at stake, and yet I believe in my heart he is still alive! I don’t care what others think of me! I will make sure to get my brother back at all costs, even if I have to save him myself!” Her breath was ragged when she finished, her eyes bloodshot and looking quite aggravated over his words.

“Silverwing, I...” He tried to speak, but the words fell out like hot lead. He didn’t think any words now would calm her sleep-deprived mind or soothe her weary heart.

Silverwing took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She pointed a hoof at the entrance. “Just go, Hammer, before I say something we'll both regret. We will not talk about this again.”

Without another word spoken, Hammer exited the tent.

Hammer felt his heart ache. He never would do anything that would make feel Silverwing uncomfortable. Confronting her with that issue with her brother, however, had really unsettled her. He wondered if by some chance she would regret what she has said or if she is worried about the only family she had left in the world. He sighed in defeat when he left her tent, and began heading into the center of camp.

After a moment of him walking and testing that the new bandages held tight against his body, he heard a commotion near the training ground and saw most of the camps’ denizens had gathered. Curiosity getting the better of him and wanting to get his mind off his discussion with Silverwing, he decided to head over.

When he was close, he saw Ponies, Cervines, and Diamond Dogs were all silent at first. He then heard a distinct clash of blades, and the crowd cheered. He pushed himself deeper into the crowd until he was at the front of the group, and his eyes widened.

Brutus and Strong Oak were dueling.

Brutus with his battle axe swung mightily with every swing, while Strong Oak would dodge the attacks, his own sword strapped to his leg. The two clashed with their weapons, striking out parries and deadly blows. Yet as he watched on, they never went in for the kill. It was more of a demonstration then a battle. The crowd around them would pay attention to the fighting and would cheer when they struck their blades. He assumed just watching them fight helped the boredom within the camp.

It was only when they struck their weapons together and Brutus kicked snow into Strong Oak’s face that the two backed away. When they stopped several feet away from each other and Strong Oak cleared the snow from his face, Brutus stirred in annoyance.

“That is wrong, Cervine,” Brutus said, pointing a finger towards him. “He would cheat by using his environment to advantage. Mad Dog will use whatever trickery to win fight.”

“Impressive, Brutus.” Strong Oak swished his blade in a stylish way. “I’ve fought Diamond Dogs before, yet never one with such skill as you,” Strong Oak said, a compliment that was rare to give.

Brutus merely snorted and twisted his battle axe in the air. “Brutus only show fighting style of Diamond Dogs, nothing more,” he explained. The two circled one another and Strong Oak merely laughed.

“You surely jest. Your strength is much greater and you fight with ferocity. Your skills are quite formidable against lesser foes,” he said, in a contemplative tone.

“At least Brutus tries to protect his pack. Who we hunt is far more cunning. Mad Dog Lupin tricky, will get the best of you if Cervine not careful.”

“Hence why I sought you out to help face him when the time is right,” Strong Oak replied, readying a stance with his blade strapped around his hoof.

“Indeed, although Brutus came to you. I show what I learned when Brutus fought him,” he replied, readying his own stance.

“Keep watch, everyone. Study this fight like you are facing the Mad Dog himself,” Strong Oak said before lunging himself to practice their duel. The camp followers watched in eagerness as the two dueled, their weapons connecting as their weapons sung in battle.

Hammer looked at the camp followers as they all watched the two fight. The Diamond Dogs would shout alongside the Equines, whilst some of the Cervine remained silent, watching the fluid motions of the two fighters. In a way they were more observant in the fight, studying the practice between the two fighters. Hammer looked back at the fight, and a single thought coursed in his mind.

At least they are getting along.

“I haven’t seen a good fight like this in awhile,” he heard Heavy Blitz say, hovering over the crowd. Hammer looked up to his friend, who watched the spectacle before them.

“I still have ten bits that Strong Oak will get the upper hoof,” Crimson Wing said next to him.

“Hey, c'mon guys. This is just a practice fight. Nothing to get too worked up about,” Hammer said, over the sounds of their companions. The crowd continued to watch and were in awe whenever Brutus or Strong Oak parried blows and practiced their different fighting styles. Hammer found it strange at first, seeing how Diamond Dogs had brute strength, while Strong Oak had his speed and graceful prowess.

There was a distinct difference, and yet they seemed to flow when they fought with each other.

“How long have they been practicing?” Hammer asked, watching another parry and Strong Oak somersaulting in the air.

“They have been doing this for ten minutes now,” Crimson Wing explained, waiting in eager anticipation of Strong Oak’s next move.

“Brutus came to Strong Oak and wanted to show what this Lupin dog would do in a fight. They have been putting on quite a show,” Heavy Blitz stated. Hammer nodded and continued to watch the fight.

“Well, at least it keeps everypony from being bored,” he said. His two companions chuckled at his remark.

“BOSS! BOSS!” a Diamond Dog’s voice broke through the crowd. Hammer blinked and looked behind him, seeing Cooper rushing past the crowd. The fight stopped immediately as Brutus turned with concern. The crowd parted for the yellow Diamond Dog and he quickly dropped in front of the open area in front of his leader. Brutus was at his side, setting down his battle axe and lifting Cooper’s head to face them eye to eye. Cooper was breathing heavily as if he ran for miles on end.

“Cooper, what is wrong? Speak,” Brutus asked, trying to keep his friend focused.

“Well boss, me and some of the boys were out scavenging, ya see...” He paused for breath. “...And we found some of them Griffons. A dozen at least north of here,” he said.

Everypony in the area froze and looked at one another in concern.

“Are they coming this way?” Brutus asked, keeping his friend concentrated.

“No, no. It’s not like that, boss. They were all frozen in the snow,” he said, causing a mixture of relief and confusion to ripple in the camp followers.

“Explain. Brutus wish to know,” he replied, getting Cooper onto his back paws.

“Me and my boys decided to pick them clean of any gear, deciding it was best since they won’t use it. However, we found this pap on one of them and we barely understand some of them words. We brought the Griffon here for ya to see, yes,” he explained, dragging his pack leader by the paw and leading them to the center of camp.

Hammer and many of the crowd followed, wanting to see what they found. When he got ahead of them, he saw a Griffon body being dragged up and out of the ground. The body was frozen, its claws wrapped tightly around a bag with its eyes wide open. Besides the dead Griffon, there were a number of armor pieces, large halberds and a few crossbows.

Whatever group of Gryphons these were, they were heavily armed.

Cooper grabbed the parchment off one the Diamond Dogs and passed it to Brutus, who looked at the parchment. He tried to read it, but he appeared to struggle. He looked about the throng of the camp until his eyes settled onto Hammer.

“Can you read this? Brutus no read,” he explained, and Hammer nodded in kind. He took the paper and looked at the contents, reading the description thoroughly. With every second and every line read, his eyes widened from mild confusion to adjacent horror.

“By the Goddess,” he exclaimed, reading the final line within the parchment.

“What’s it say?” Brutus asked.

“Is it a message from a high ranking official?” Strong Oak added his voice.

“They’re orders, to raze Prancy” he said softly, but with worry in his voice. Many of his comapanions and allies all shared the same feeling of dread upon each of their faces. He looked back down at the parchment, raising his voice so that all would hear him.

“Brave soldiers of the Gryphon empire. For far too long we have been pushed back against the tide of Equine filth. For too long, we have been pushed aside by those who cared less than you. We were once a mighty nation, but now we are no longer.

That will change.

My brothers. Sons and daughters of the Gryphon empire. The history of these coming days shall be written in blood. By crushing the armies of our hated enemy, they sought to turn our people against us, to turn our lands that they conquered into mindless souls to churn the fires of their war machines. They threaten to take the war straight to our homeland and terrorize our very nation to its core, yet they can not tame the soul that is our nation. We have been lead by the craven, torn apart by the greedy and mockful leaders of our empire. We became weak and exposed, and for many years have been on the defense. But I say again, no longer.

We shall unleash such terrible vengeance, that future generations of equines yet unborn and the young suckling at the teats of their mothers will cry out in anguish. For our army, the mighty Legion of the Claw, numbering in twenty thousand strong, will march upon the city of Prancy and sack it to the very ground! King Bronzeclaw, the ever glorious leader, will lead the charge against the forces of the equine nations and slaughter all denizens within Prancy, as we have before. Brave soldiers, heroes of the empire, do not stop in your pursuit of vengeance against the equines and the city of Prancy. They may break our armies, yet they will not break our spirits that reside within us all. They will march and try to seize by force our lands we hold dear. They will not know what awaits them.

When their unholy hooves cross into our borders, we shall smite them from our skies!

When they sweep over onto our lands as the flakes of winter, never again we will bow before them, never again to endure their oppression. Never again to ensure their tyranny against our people. We will strike fear into their hearts, without warning and without mercy. Fighting as one army, one heart, one soul of the whole of the Gryphon Empire. We shall haunt their every waking nightmares and shatter their pathetic dreams. Drenching their ancestors graves with their blood!

When we unleash our battle cries, charging with the great winds at our backs and we rise up reborn from the ashes of our cities. They will know that the Gryphon Empire will not be taken. For it belongs to all Gryphons.

Go, my proud warriors. Go to Prancy. Raze it, put the remaining city into ruins and put to the sword all that live within.

By order of General Quill, sovereign leader of the Razor Claw Brigade. Bring ruin upon them all.”

The last words fell out and the camp was silent. The only sound were their uneasy breaths in the cold harsh winds, which began to pick up. Everypony stared wide eyed, and fear and uncertainty gripped at their hearts. More so for the militia and Shadow Hunter, who looked equally disturbed by the parchments content. The Diamond Dogs whined in apprehension, their ears flat on their heads. Hammer looked to his companions, and they didn’t know what to do. Even Strong Oak within his calm demeanor was visibly shaken. Hammer swallowed a lump in his throat and turned to Cooper, who both he and Brutus looked shaken by the news.

“Was there any other parchments like this?” he asked, but Cooper shook his head. Hammer looked back down at the parchment, scanning it quickly to ensure that what he read was legitimate. His thoughts then turned to Silverwing.

“Call Captain Silverwing. She needs to see this.”

Far above them, the storm clouds began to gather once again.

Quicksilver was dreaming again, though it was much different than his previous dreams.

He was back in Canterlot, the high towers and glistening roofs all too familiar to him. He was cantering down a long alleyway, moving with his sister Silverwing. He looked at her and saw the innocent face she bore. She was happy, happy to be alive, and he felt a deep connection with her. The two been through Tartarus and back, and they both needed each other if they were to survive this war.

They exited out of the alleyway and he found himself among the other orphans. They were all tightly knitted and ushered by an older mare named Soft Heart. She was their caretaker and she had a heart of gold, treating all the colts and fillies with equal love and affection. She escorted them into the market district, saying it was a special treat for them all. Ponies were all gathered near a food storage, patiently waiting in line to receive any portions of food for their families. When he entered inside, he saw the royal guards standing idle near the entrance.

His eyes took a look at the closest one. The unicorn guard was wearing his pristine armor, the light reflecting off the polish metal. The guard was having a gray to near black coat and looked young, or at least what his childlike mind presumed to be young. The guard had a kind smile, one that showed much warmth and determination to protect them. He looked into those strong yet compassionate green eyes, and the guard gave a knowing wink to him as he ushered their group forward.

The royal guard were amazing in Quicksilver’s eyes.

They were in the food storage, where a number of crates were stacked high. They were no doubt stacked with food and necessities, and he drooled a little at the thought of eating some fresh carrots, or even some cornbread that Soft Heart would often make for them. He loved to add jam to it to make it more delicious. When he and Silverwing were getting closer to the food area and the guards that numbered in the dozens were offering some of the food, a noise was heard behind them. He ignored it, focusing on one of the tasty morsels that was in front of him.

The voices grew louder and the guards were on alert, several already heading over to contain the situation. When the clamor began to rise to the point of being unavoidable, Quicksilver turned to see what the whole fuss was about. The small blockade that was placed was shattered and ponies frantically rushed forward for the food.

Everything was in chaos. Civilians were tangling themselves with the guards and, it didn’t help that the other foals were crying out in fright. Soft Heart attempted to calm them and usher them to a corner of the room. He didn’t hear when several larger ponies brushed past them and attempted to seize the stacks of food. He got separated, more ponies coming in to try and seize the food, but the guards intervened. He was stuck in the middle of the brawl. Lost, confused and unsure of what to do. He was shoved violently away and he attempted to head to the far wall. But then he was grabbed by the nape of his neck.

The fighting had soon settled down, yet he was pulled vigorously back against the large equine. He saw a knife in his peripheral vision, the blade close to his neck. He froze from the contact, while the large equine behind him was demanding for the food. Soft Heart was begging for him to let go, and he saw his sister was also close by, pleading for his life. Quicksilver focused on several guards in front of them, including the same one he met at the door. The black unicorn slowly approached, one of his hooves up and trying to calm the crazed stallion.

However, before he could reason with him, Silverwing rushed and attempted to free him.

In a span of a few seconds, the larger equine shoved his knife into his sister, and she stared at the weapon that was embedded in her. Ponies shouted in fear while the guards froze but still were determined to separate the larger equine away. Before they got a foot closer, the larger equine grabbed Quicksilver by the neck and began choking him, his windpipe shut and he felt his life passing by. The black unicorn demanded he be released, his horn charged and ready to grab him.

Once again, he heard a cry of rage and before he knew it he felt the hooves around his neck release, and he fell to the ground gasping for each breath. He turned and saw Silverwing was on the equine, repeatedly stabbing the equine with his own blade. The black unicorn rushed forward and removed her off of him, and she instantly passed out. Soft Heart was at her side almost immediately, trying to help her. Quicksilver was so focused on her the whole time that he didn’t even notice when he was grabbed by the black unicorn and brought outside.

Other equines were stunned and some remained quiet, as the guards quickly rushed Silverwing away. Quicksilver was held close to the black unicorn and he heard him speak something to the other guards along with Soft Heart who was equally worried. When they replied, he had a small weak smile and he lowered Quicksilver down. The stallion bended his knees down until Quicksilver was staring at him, seeing those green eyes stare back at him.

“Your sister will be okay,” he replied in assurance, his voice a little low yet soothing to him. He placed a hoof onto Quicksilver’s shoulder and the young colt tensed up. His mind had finally processed all that had happened, and tears began to flow out of his eyes. Quicksilver lowered his head into the guard’s chest and he cried his heart out like a newborn babe. He remained like that, crying into his black fur and wanting to be with his sister for fear of being alone. The royal guard wrapped his own hooves around him and held him close, comforting him as best he could.

Quicksilver just wanted his older sister back and to be safe.

Quicksilver stirred in his sleep and his eyes slowly opened. He felt tears streaming down his face. He tried to rub it away with his hoof, but found he couldn’t move his front hooves at all. He opened his eyes further, his face buried what he presumed was a feathery blanket.

Said fearthery blanket was also moving, and he heard a heartbeat that was slow and steady. It was an all too familiar feeling.

Gretchen was holding him close to her body, with his head pressed against her chest.

She had wrapped her claws around his back, and her back legs had overlapped his own. Even his right hoof was wrapped around her waist, and his body was deep in her chest feathers, tickling his cheeks in the process. He had a slight blush, but he had expected this to happen. He did fall asleep right next to her, so she grabbed the nearest heat source.

Not that he minded from the cold and all.

Gathering his bearings, he looked about the cave and saw that the fire was still going, but they were they were embers. He wondered how long they had been out. He then felt her stirring and he moved his head upward, his eyes seeing her head was above his own and she was rousing from her slumber. He saw one of her golden eyes open up and she looked down to meet his blue ones.

In a moment of time the two stared at one another, no word being said and nothing to share but the heat between them.

That is, until he heard her heartbeat rise and began to beat faster than a wardrum.

Her eyes flared open and she cried in surprise, pushing him away from her a good couple of feet until he rolled onto his other side. The blow knocked his senses and he lifted his head back at her as she scrambled to get away, aiming for the entrance of the cave. Realizing this, he rushed after her.

“Gretchen wait! Calm down!” he said. He grabbed at one of her paws and she tripped over herself, her claws scratching the ground in an attempt to escape. He dragged her back leg away from the entrance, but she quickly spun onto her back and kicked into his stomach. He was launched back a few feet from her and she quickly upright-ed herself to get away. He quickly recovered and he ran after her, seeing she was nearing the front entrance. He wrapped his hooves around the nearest appendage he could grab, hoping to stop her in her tracks and try to calm her frantic mind.

What he didn’t expect to grab was her tail and pulling it rather sharply.

She made a squawk like sound, looked back at him with obvious anger and snarled. His eyes went to pin pricks when she lunged at him. The air went out of his lungs when she made contact. He rolled onto his back, the Gryphon in clear vexation as the two tumbled on the floor of the cave. They rolled once more as she attempted to grab his shoulders and aimed at his neck. After another roll, Quicksilver found himself nearly on top of her, and he used this to his advantage. Using the strength he had, he pinned her down, using his weight to hold her in place.

“Get off of me! Don’t plucking touch me!” she demanded. Her lion paws kicked roughly on his back legs and her claws attempted to seize his throat. Even though she was slightly bigger, he had to use with what he had in keeping her in place. Wasting no time, he forced his lower body on to her own by wrapping his back legs around her waist. He struggled to keep her flailing arms from striking him, but he was quickly able to avoid any damage. After a moment’s scuffle between their forelegs, he pushed his front hooves onto her front claws and forced them to go down. She grappled with him for a moment, and he had to wrap his front hooves around both of her wrists.

“Gretchen! Your not in danger! Calm down!” he said while he pinned her claws on either side of her head. Her eyes looked at him and her anger did not dissipate. She squirmed underneath, her lower body trying to push him off. He wrapped his back legs tighter around her waist, his abdomen pushing up against hers. She squawked from the movement and he gritted his teeth from the frantic Gryphon.

He felt he was wrestling a manticore that was rudely awoken from a nap. Only this time, he was dealing with a very disturbed, if not scared, hen. He would need to pacify her as best as possible.

“Get off me! I will not become your slave!” she yelled, thrusting her beak and trying to bite him. He wondered why she would say that as he narrowly dodged the bites and had his hooves full. The beak lunged again and heard it clap next to his ear, and he had to settle her down before he got into any more trouble.

“Calm yourself! You’re safe from Sharp Beak. He’s not here so you can… watch the ear!” he yelled when her beak was near his head once again. His heart was beating in his chest so badly he thought it would burst out of his chest.

“Get off, fletching! You’re not going to have your way with me!” she yelled back. Though her last words sounded that she was pleading, almost fearful of what he could do. He looked at her and saw that she was afraid. He felt pity for her and he didn’t know what else to do but to keep on assuring her.

“Relax, Gretchen. We’re safe from him. You don’t have to worry.” he said. This time she was calming down, but still anxious if not nervous, while her body still tried to squirm away, albeit with little resistance. Not relenting, he kept his hooves onto her wrists and held her down until she got the full picture.

“Gretchen, listen to me carefully. I’m not gonna do anything that would harm you. I just saved your life, so will you please get a hold of yourself. We’re far away from Sharp Beak,” he said, trying to show that he was not her enemy. Gretchen began to breathe more slowly and her golden eyes still looked at him, though less fearful the earlier. She looked about the room, and her eyes looked outside, where the snow was coming down at a gradual pace. She looked back up to him, her breathing having returned to normal.

“Feeling better?” he asked, albeit a little hesitantly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and she looked away as if embarrassed. “Yes,” she said, still looking away.

“Are you?” he asked, wanting to be extra certain.

She looked down her body, then back up to him with a deadpan expression. “Can you at least stop straddling me?” she asked in an irked tone. He looked down and saw that he did indeed had his legs wrapped around her waist. His abdomen was pushed up against hers. He blushed slightly, but he composed himself to look back at her.

“Can you promise me that you will not try to flee or freak out again? If you do, I’ll get off,” he said, trying to be relaxed as possible, trying his best to keep his mind off the positioning that they were in. She was silent for a moment, her eyes avoiding his gaze for but a moment. She then nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Okay, I’m going to get off now,” he explained, his lower half loosening away from her abdomen. She said nothing, still staring up at him, her body still. His back hooves got onto the ground and lifted up further.

“Alright, I’m getting up now... and I won’t be having you freak-”

He was stopped when a sudden pain emanated from his lower extremities, tingling all throughout his body. A wordless cry escaped him and his eyes darted down south.

Not a moment after hovering over Gretchen’s body, he felt her lower half slamming straight up and into his sensitive region.

Mainly his bits.

He gasped and felt his lungs when in the back of his throat. She then lowered enough to maneuver her back legs and pressed her paws straight on his body. With a quick shunt, he was thrown back, his front hooves immediately heading south and curling into a ball. He moaned from the pain, tossing and turning while holding his sensitive region and gave out a agonizing cry.

“What was that for?” he said through tears. He looked over and saw that Gretchen was standing back up. Yet she didn’t bolt for the exit, nor did she go after him. She instead backed away until she pressed herself into the back wall.

“That was for kidnapping me!” she shouted, her arms wrapping tightly together to keep warm.

Quicksilver remained still, still curled up from the unexpected blow. He breathed slow, trying to regain his composure. He slowly stood back up, yet the movement caused his whole body to tingle and shudder. He waited about a minute to get himself steady when he settled his eyes on her.

“Kidnapping? I saved your life. You were unconscious after Sharp Beak beat you down,” he explained, though his quivering body still shook somewhat.

“Then why take me away from my brother and the safety of my own kin?” she retorted, clear questioning anger in her eyes.

“The Nomads gave me no choice! It was either leave you there for their talons or take you with me. Considering how we’re both still alive, that means that I chose the right path,” he explained.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yet why leave? You could have easily gone to my brothers, or even get to Nobles who would have helped,” she said, clearly irritated by his actions.

“Deadeye was the one who told me to flee. He didn’t know what would have happened if Sharp Beak or the other Nomads were able to take control of the camp. It was the most logical option, even when the Nomads chased after me,” he explained.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying anything he said. He then thought to Felix and he moved his hoof the remaining crystal around his neck.

“Felix also told me to go, something to do with Gryphon customs or some other.” He then brought the crystal up and showed her the piece around his neck. “He gave me this in case of an emergency. I already used one to heal you when your wound reopened. I saved your life with the help of Gregor.”

She raised a brow to him and a chuckle escaped out of her. The next thing he knew, she was laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t make me laugh. Only Arch Gryphons have the power to-” She paused from her mirth, and her eyes traced down to her stomach. Her eyes expanded and she traced a claw down to where the wound would have been, clearly shocked that the wound was gone. She brushed her fur and her breathing shuddered a little. She remained like that, still staring at her wound.

He felt a chill crawl up his spine and he turned to the fire. The embers were low in the pit. He grabbed several of the dead leaves and branches and placed them into the fire. The moment it caught, the warmth of the fire renewed, casting the flames higher within the cave. He rested on his haunches, embracing the warmth that the fire gave. He would smell like a campfire for days from being this close, but he didn’t mind at all. He turned his gaze on Gretchen, who still looked stunned from seeing the wound had been healed. He turned away from her, still looking at the fire and, for a time, silence remained between the two.

His mind remained on what the Arch Gryphon said. His words haunting him like a blade, embedded deep into his mind and not wanting to let go until he removed it. He shook his head, trying to get his mind off it, but no matter how hard he tried to bury it, the words still lingered.

Gretchen Jaeger. Such a young life. Full of hardship and heartache. Such pain she has endured. Much like you, she has also suffered.

Those words, those bloody words kept echoing in his head. Was there something that he didn’t know about?

Let me rephrase my query onto you. What is Gretchen worth to you?

He closed his eyes, thinking long and hard. Yet why was it so hard to answer? Why did it irk him to no end? He remembered how much she cared for him. Yet in his mind, he remembered that she merely did it reluctantly, only doing what she was told. Was her actions even cause for concern or were they legitimate?

But… what about the other times she helped only to leave you when you needed most? His inner voice said to him. He ignored it, favoring to remember of what she had done for him.

So that is where your heart lies. That is good, young Quicksilver. That is good.

The last of the words that the Arch Gryphon spoke before he departed ran through his mind. His heart? Where it lied? Did he say the things he say were true? Did he really speak his whole heart out about Gretchen? Did he think that what he said was a lie just so that Gregor would help him? The ancient Gryphon wouldn’t have otherwise if he hadn't prayed his whole heart into it. Quicksilver gave a glance back to Gretchen, who had lifted her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, sitting in a cradling position and was silent. His mind traced back to what she did for him.

She was there when I needed warmth. She lent me her ear. She helped me when I was beaten and treated with Felix’s help. His thoughts went through the list of things she had done for him.

Was she playing the act as well? Was that all out of pity? his inner voice spoke, he raised a hoof to brush against his head.

She only did that because she was told to do it. There is no reason to like you as a friend, the voice explained, and he shook his head from off comment.

But she was kind. She truly helped me, he thought, but his rational mind scoffed at him.

Was that just an act to my friend? She did say that we were never friends. Even during the whole time we were there, she always seemed distant and wouldn’t let us hear what bothered her.

That’s not true, there were a few things she shared, he retorted, almost wanting to shove his other hoof into his head for having this argument.

But not all of it. You think she wouldn't mention other details that plagued her mind? Besides, we’re equine. She is a Gryphon. There is nothing that we share in common, the voice replied back, seeming to win over this argument.

But Gregor said otherwise, he replied, his ears falling flat on the other side of his head.

Even if that were true, she still won’t fall for you, the inner voice said in a judging manner. If she was an equine, she would show us some pity, but even then, she won’t because she wouldn’t look down at a cripple.

“I’m not a cripple,” he muttered under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Gretchen asked. He looked over and saw she had a quizzical look, though more annoyed then concerned.

“It’s nothing,” he replied before turning to the fire.

It is nothing. You’re just an equine.

He ignored his inner voice and kept his attention on the fire. All he could think about was resentment and bitterness, and he too felt the anger inside him. He tried to calm down and took several deep breaths, but the hatred of what his inner voice said remained.

We’re two species, Quicksilver. We were never meant to get along.

“Fletching, I have a question.” Gretchen’s words snapped him out of his trace, yet he didn’t bother to look at her. He heard a shuffling of her paws as she scooted closer to the fire to get warm.

“What do you plan to do with me? It’s obvious we're stuck here with the storm outside,” she said, motioning toward the exit. Quicksilver looked and saw the winter was coming down much harsher now, the snow piling high around the entrance, but it didn’t threaten to block up due to the heat from the fire.

“I’m not going to do anything that would harm you, if that is what you’re asking. If you’re asking what we should do now, we just wait out until this storm passes,” he explained, not paying attention to her.

“Then what? You obviously have something in mind.”

He looked over to her, seeing her staring at the fire before him, but still kept an arms length away. He sighed, looking back at the fire.

“I need your help to get out of these mountains,” he said in plainness.

Gretchen looked at him, one of her brows curled in curiousness. “That’s all? It’s easy for you to just walk on out,” she replied.

He snorted in mild irritation. “I saved your life, Gretchen. You owe me this,” he explained, but she just waved it off in mild contempt.

“I owe you nothing. Yes, you may have saved my life, but I also saved yours, so that doesn't-”

“It’s does, Gretchen,” he interjected, this time looking at her. “I don’t know these mountains and I need you to help guide me out of them. I know you don’t like this arrangement, but I watched the Razor Claw Brigade return to push back the Nomads. However, I fear with the Nomads out and about, they will no doubt be hunting after us.”

“And be on the run?” she said, standing up this time to stare down at him. He saw that stance before when they were in their tent back at camp. He was going to get an earful for what she was going to say next.

“I don’t run.” she uttered, “I don’t run out on those who I care for. I don’t up and leave, when there is a chance that they will still be alive. I’m more willing to take a risk and be with them than with the likes of you.”

“That makes two of us,” he muttered.

This time she heard him. She narrowed her eyes, which held much disdain. A stubbornness was rising and would no doubt will remain so in the rest of their conversation.

“You’re very cynical for saying that. Whatever happened to the one who always helps others? You saved a thestral child when you could have easily waited on the side lines. You stood up to Sharp Beak even when he beat you down. You proved that again when you showed him that pain you were going through when he put you through that trail. Yet now you’re running away, even after everything we did for you. Why should we be given the stick while you galavant off with the carrot?”

“That doesn't matter. I was worked to the bone. I was pushed and trodden on. I just want to return home!” he stood up, the anger and frustration from earlier already surfacing. He snorted again as Gretchen just shook it off.

“Yet you survived because of it. To stand up and walk away,”

“I was not walking away-”

“To just go off and leave us when we could have protected you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” His voice grew louder, the anger already surging within him.

Gretchen had her mouth half open in a sideways smirk and she just shook her head. “You needed protecting when your sister kept you up and about.”

He flinched, frozen from the comment, his eyes like daggers as he stared at her. She noticed this and she gave a low chuckle.

“Seems I pinched a nerve. I remember that story you gave to my uncle, how you and your sister were left alone after your parents died. You had to be brought up your whole life and never once could stand up for yourself. Sure, there were times you did in the camp, but only after you broke down did you needed assistance once again,” she said, taking a step forward. He still stared at her, his inner thoughts scrambling to think of something to say back.

“C’mon, Fletching. Admit it. You wish nothing more then to be safe again in the arms of a loved one. You wish nothing more then to be wrapped up like some doll and be in the loving embrace of your parents.”

That was the last straw for Quicksilver.

“Gregor said the same thing about you,” he replied. This time Gretchen was the one who flinched.

“He told me that you suffered as well. How you had to deal with pain over the years. As to what I can only hazard a guess. Mind if I indulge?” he said, rising up to take a step towards her, while she took a step back.

“What was it? Did your parents live in some fancy estate that looked down upon every other Gryphon? Did your folks treat others poorly while you got off easy? You don’t know the meaning of loss, after what I’ve been through!” he took step closer, practically shouting at her.

“I lost people too, Fletchling,” she said in equal anger.

“Loss? My sister and I were left alone, almost ignored by the world, and I survived! You, on the other hoof, were properly pampered your whole life. I don’t know know if your parents are alive or dead, but that doesn't matter to me, because they raised a Gryphon who is ignorant of others’ feelings and in reality you’re nothing but a selfish brat!”

Gretchen stood her ground, her wings flaring up and staring daggers back at him. He got in her face and howled his words at her.

“You know what else? Whatever is going down back in Gryphonstone, I will gladly wish to see it! A damn civil war is what your Gryphon’s need. Pain and heartache? Buck, I don’t give a shit about what you suffered through, because your life is best left unheard!”

Thwack!

Quicksilver felt his left cheek struck and his head recoiled from the blow. He quickly turned and thrusted a hoof to her neck. She was quicker and seized him by the neck, lifting him up slightly. He had his own hoof at her neck and the two were locked in place. Her breathing was steady yet fast, pure wrath came from every breath. He stared at Gretchen and saw the anger grew in her eyes.

Yet they also looked hurt.

“Fletching,” she said in a low and threatening tone. “You are treading on mighty thin ice here. Listen to me carefully if you value your life... right now,” she said. Quicksilver remained silent as she spoke.

“I’m sorry for your parents loss, but I lost people too,” she said, much slower this time. “Those I cared for and loved. Every Gryphon that I have ever known has either died or left me and my brothers. It is you who don’t know the meaning of loss.”

Quicksilver’s anger dissipated slightly, and he was now beginning to wonder if he had pushed too far.

“Let me ask you something, Fletching. What are you so afraid of? First it was your ability to fly, and now its fearing of dying and leaving your older sister behind. You feel that is more important than your own life?”

Her question hit Quicksilver on the head and now he was beginning to regret for snapping at her.

She drew a hot breath and looked at him once more. “You will silence your tongue about this, and never bring it up again, you dumb pluck.” She leaned closer, her beak mere inches away from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me that my life is less worse than yours, because frankly that makes me feel more alone in this world,” she exasperated and he noticed a glint in her eye, and it looked like tears were forming. She took notice and appeared to regret her choice of words and she lowered him back down the ground. She released him and looked away, not meeting him in the eye. He did the same and turned his attention to the fire.

“I get it, Fletching,” she said. “You don’t know all of my life, and I sure as hell don’t know all of yours. And that is fine with me.” Quicksilver turned to look at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I will get you out of these mountains, Fletching. After that, we are going our separate ways,” she finished, her eyes filled with aggravation towards him. He nodded in kind to her.

I told you, his inner voice spoke. Gryphons and equines can never get along.

In that moment of truth, he felt his heart was stabbed and removed from his chest. What a fool he had been.

ting ting ting

A metal noise rapped upon the rock surface and echoed around them. The two turned their eyes to the entrance in alarm, and saw a large figure was standing there.

“Don’t mean to interrupt, this is an enthralling conversation. Although, I am quite curious how you found my cave in the first place,” the large figure said, causing the two to be on alert and backing themselves away from the entrance. The figure’s sword was the first to enter into the cave. It was a large broadsword and it glimmered in the light. Quicksilver and Gretchen watched as the figure stepped inside and Quicksilver blinked in surprise when it stopped near the fire.

It was a Diamond Dog, and he had a smile on his face.

“Salutations to you both, my friends. My name is Lupin. What is yours?”

Author's Note

Another big chapter. Another big round of surprises coming forth. What will happen next? Just pay attention to the next chapter.

Art for this page was made by Margony. She is truly quiet talented and I do suggest in checking out her art. I might even consider getting more pieces from her.
https://www.deviantart.com/margony/art/Care-759526932

The Trickster

Quicksilver and Gretchen were frozen on the spot, seeing the tall Diamond Dog stand before them. He wore a red vest over his blue coat. He had muscles all over his body, yet he looked more lean then the other Diamond Dogs Quicksilver had seen. He was quite tall, and upon his back he had a large pack. It had a number of pockets that had who knows what inside. The Diamond Dog kept his broadsword pointed at them, the blade shimmering in the light and casting some reflections within. He kept it there for but for a moment, his blue eyes darting between the two, his smile never wavering.

“I never expected to see guests in one of my caves. Not in this weather, at least,” he said. His sword twisted in his paws before striking into the stone and remaining there. He placed a paw onto his large pack and settled it onto the floor. It was ridiculous in its size, though clearly suitable for his stature. He gave a sigh of relief and sat cross legged on the ground.

“Nothing beats dropping your load and resting your back. It does wonders when you give it rest,” he said nonchalantly. Quicksilver didn’t know if he should be worried or confused by this Diamond Dog’s mannerisms. He gave a certain look to Gretchen, who looked equally baffled, and why it was not threatening them. He looked back to the Diamond Dog, who interlaced his paws and cracked the bones. The audible pops echoed in the cave.

“Um, remind me of your name again. It was…?” Quicksilver began to ask, but stopped when the Diamond Dog gave an eager smile.

“The name is Lupin, my friend,” he said, resting his elbows over his knees and getting warm by the fire.

That’s a interesting name, Quicksilver thought, Why does it sound so eerily familiar?

Lupin took a look at the two and a smirk appeared on his face. “Judging by your conversation earlier, I would say you know each other. Though, in my opinion, you are a bit of an odd couple in my eyes.”

The way that Lupin said that made the two blush instantaneously.

“We’re not a couple!” they both shouted in unison. Quicksilver was flustered while Gretchen raised her claws incredulously, while both tried to speak over each other.

“Why would you think that I was with her!” Quicksilver shouted, speaking over Gretchen.

“This fletching is not my husband!” Gretchen shouted in a higher tone. One of her talons rubbed her arms and she looked at the ground in insecurity.

“She’s doesn't like me that way at all!” He turned his head in embarrassment.

“His wings are not compatible with my own glorious wings!” she extended her own wings for emphasis, while flailing her arms about.

‘She’s cute, but I don’t think I-” he firmly clamped his mouth shut after uttering those words and a hint of utmost regret.

“I wouldn't even think of the possibility…that...” She stopped from her clamor and blinked in mild confusion. “Did you just call me cute?” she looked at him dumbfounded, a hint of irritation in her voice and one of her eyes twitching.

He pressed a hoof to his mouth, and his eyes widened slightly from his words. Her own eyes narrowed, and a clear vexation grew on her countenance. Without warning, she thrusted her right claw at his neck and pulled him in close, meeting him straight in the eye. Hers were filled with great annoyance that would melt any barrier of composure.

“If you call me cute again, I’m going to pluck that tongue of yours out of your head,” she growled, snarling her teeth at him. She let go, letting him stand on all fours. She then proceeded to give a right hook into his shoulder for good measure. He fell haphazardly onto the ground from the blow and rubbed his bruised shoulder.

“Ow,” was all he uttered, turning to see the Diamond Dog with a paw to his mouth and trying his best not to laugh at the sight. Quicksilver looked back at Gretchen, who still looked bitter and had her head turned away from him.

He wouldn’t want to say anything like that ever again, even when his life depended on it.

After getting himself up onto his haunches, the Diamond Dog took a deep breath to keep himself relaxed, but he still had that smile on his face.

“You two are quite interesting,” he explained, looking them over. It unnerved Quicksilver to no end with Lupin. He’d barely met the Diamond Dog, and he already gave off a few choice words that threw them off completely. He looked more like some casual observer over their spectacle. Lupin placed his paws together and rubbed them vigorously next to the fire.

“Mind telling me your names?” he asked once more, still staring at the fire.

“Why would we do that?” Gretchen said bitterly, not looking at him. Quicksilver wouldn't blame her, given their argument mere moments ago.

“It be rude to not do so otherwise. Also, you’re in my cave that I built from my own paws.”

He does have a point, Quicksilver thought. He cleared his throat to speak.

“My name is Quicksilver. The angry Gryphon over there is Gretchen.” He gestured to Gretchen, who harrumphed in indignation.

“Charmed to meet you both,” he said with a toothy grin. He sighed, until he began to take a breath when his nose began to sniff the air.

“I smell some meat nearby.” His eyes traced to Quicksilver’s sack, who remembered the food was still there. “You mind if I cook some up?” he asked.

Quicksilver looked at him critically. “You have a giant pack. Wouldn’t you have some food inside there?” he suggested.

The Diamond Dog gave him a straight face. “I don't have food,” he deadpanned, much to Quicksilver’s chagrin. “What I do got is a number of things for survival,” he explained.

Quicksilver’s brow raised, and he turned his attention to the sack.

“What do you got in there?”

“Oh, the essentials. Blankets, some bandages, cooking utensils, ah… tree sap in bottles, traps. Clothespins, big ones. You know, standard office supplies for soldiers on the go,” he said so casually that Quicksilver tilted his head in mild confusion.

“That’s quite a lot, for a soldier,” he mused.

Lupin shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say, a mercenary's life is never easy.”

Both Quicksilver and Gretchen looked at him. Quicksilver seemed confused by the explanation, whereas Gretchen bore much cynicism, her face contorting to a scowl over Lupin’s tale.

“A mercenary? I don’t think I know of any Gryphon hiring any Diamond Dogs,” Gretchen explained, her arms folded and a look of irritation on her face.

“Well, I’ve been hired by another group of small importance. Nothing you two would know about,” he explained. Gretchen rolled her eyes and Quicksilver just hummed softly.

This is one strange Diamond Dog, Quicksilver thought.

“What is your job then, for this group?” he asked.

“Can’t tell you much about them. But I was only brought out to hunt some boar around these parts. So far, I only had little luck,” he explained. It was a small enough answer that it only gave Quicksilver more questions. “Speaking of which, that meat?” he pointed again to the sack and Quicksilver sighed. He reluctantly picked it up and handed the sack over.

“Isn’t that ours?” Gretchen asked, her voice still filled with vexing irritation. He ignored her and allowed the Diamond Dog to grab and sift through it. He grabbed a large piece of meat and marveled at it for a brief moment, a hint of drool falling from his mouth. Lupin then looked to his pack and placed his own massive paw inside and grabbed something within. He then brought out a small dagger, and Quicksilver felt a shudder crawl up his back.

The Diamond Dog then placed the meat onto the dagger and hovered it over the fire. With his other paw, he opened his pack up and Quicksilver spotted a number of vials and small bottles with what appeared to be various herbs and spices, including one vial that was all black. Lupin grabbed on a small bag and opened it up to reveal a bunch of salt. Lupin then proceeded to grab a pinch and sprinkle it on top of the meat.

“Some salt can never go wrong,” Lupin chuckled, pulling the small bag shut and putting it back inside. “Would you kindly put one of those extra branches onto the fire?” he asked.

Quicksilver did just that and placed several more branches into the fire, the flames rising higher to encompass the meat.

“Now you’re doing what he says?” Gretchen grumbled, much to Quicksilver’s chagrin.

“Well, I’m not the one armed and neither are you, except for those talons,” he retorted. She narrowed her eyes in disappointment, but the Diamond Dog lifted a paw to them.

“That is true. Besides, I haven’t been ordered to kill you both,” he said in a matter of fact sort of way.

The two gave an uneasy look to him. Lupin gave a soft chuckle before returning to the meat.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Quicksilver said, a little disturbed by how he said it.

“Don’t worry. I’m a mercenary. I don’t go about killing others unless I’m given good pay for it. So you two are in good paws,” he said.

Quicksilver couldn’t help but get an uneasy feeling in his gut over his comment. They remained silent for a time, the sound of the meat sizzling on the dagger. The silence made Quicksilver uneasy, and his eyes would dart between Lupin and Gretchen. He wondered what was going on in their heads, but didn’t want to press anything unless there was a moment to speak.

More importantly, why was the Diamond Dog being so friendly with them?

He has seen his share of Diamond Dogs when he fought them in the war. Each dog that he faced and brought down had the sole intention of fighting to the bitter end, and even those brought in as prisoners were fiercely resistant. Yet, here and now, Lupin was something else entirely, and he couldn’t make heads or tails out of him. His demeanor screamed out that he is up to no good, yet the way he acted and his helpfulness to them showed something else entirely.

He began to wonder if in fact Diamond Dogs were more capable of kindness and sympathy than to the ones he had faced.

After another moment, Lupin turned the meat over to cook the other side and he spoke up once more.

“I noticed that your food is quite low,” he began, making the two turn to him in surprise, “It seems you’re not as prepared for this winter if you tend to be out here,” he said.

Quicksilver looked to the side. I thought I packed enough, he thought, his gut telling him the worst was yet to come. He did pack much during his escape, yet who knew how much the Thestrals had taken or if he had grabbed a smaller sack.

“Fletching was the one who packed the food. I guess he didn’t bring that much,” Gretchen said, not directly looking at him, but a certain sense of animosity directed at him. His ears fell flat as he turned to Lupin, who lifted the dagger up to inspect the meat before putting back over the fire.

“Maybe there is something that can benefit all of us,” Lupin perked up, which caused the two to look at him.

“In what way?” Quicksilver queried.

“It better not involve us doing something stupid,” Gretchen groused.

Lupin had a hesitant smile. “Well, it will involve you two, but its not stupid,” he explained before clearing his throat. “My contacts want me to hunt wild boar and bring back at least ten boars for them. However, due to my luck, I haven’t found that many boars in the general area. These lands are filled with life, but the winter has forced many to go into hibernation or to stay put in the forests below. I already gave them six of the required task, but I need to find more within a few days. I know of a certain area that is teeming with wild boar, but the herd is always a step ahead.”

“So where is this herd heading now?” Quicksilver asked, curious as to where this was leading.

Lupin paused for a moment, lifting the meat to inspect it once over before putting it above the fire.

“Last I remember, they were heading north, to a little known grove. I’ve only been in these mountains for a few months, but I’ve traveled past it enough times to know its location. We are at least a few days ahead of them, and they will no doubt be moving quickly to seek shelter.”

“North?” Gretchen spoke, one of her brows curled up at his reply.

“Indeed. And I have a few caves between here and the grove that I had marked. If need be, we can take refuge in the caves until we get to the grounds, where I have no doubt we’ll be seeing the boars make their way there for the winter. Oh… Quicksilver, do you mind coming over and holding this?” Lupin gestured to the dagger.

Seeing what he wanted, Quicksilver stood up and headed over to him. “What do you want me to-” Before he could finish, he felt an intrusion in his mouth, the pommel of the dagger placed right in between his teeth.

“One second,” Lupin said, going back to look in his pack. Quicksilver groaned slightly as he held the dagger with his teeth. The meat sizzled in the middle and he could see it brown all over. He could hear Gretchen snicker slightly in smug amusement from his predicament. He rolled his eyes, not wanting to look to her. After a few precarious seconds between them, Lupin found what he was looking for, a small knife that had serrated blades on the side.

“Now hold still,” Lupin said, taking the knife and carving up the meat. Quicksilver couldn’t help but stay still as a rock while Lupin began to tenderly cut the meat, careful to cut strips of meat for himself and for Gretchen. Quicksilver’s stomach growled, making Lupin perk up.

“I take it you want some as well?” he asked. Quicksilver blinked and nodded slowly, careful with the dagger in his mouth. Lupin nodded and offered his paw to the pommel, to which Quicksilver eagerly dropped the blade out of his mouth like a dog’s toy to his owner.

“Like I said earlier,” Lupin said as he cut a good strip of meat. “It would be helpful for me to have aid in getting these boars, while at the same time give you food for your journey to…. where ever you need to go,” he explained.

Quicksilver nodded to him, accepting the piece of meat and tenderly chewing it. He knew it had little to no nutritional value, but it least kept him from getting hungry.

“Once again, I believe there to be a catch to your plan. Is there anything else you have not shared?” Gretchen asked, ripping the pieces with her beak and chewing at the strips of meat.

“You gotta good eye. I like that,” Lupin said, settling himself with the dagger to cut a few more strips. “It’s true these mountains have life, but not all of it is friendly. The boars will no doubt be converging to the grove, but there will be other predators that will hunt after them. The boars have to cross a frozen river up north from here, and will be moving at a quick pace. Having you two will help make things easier, if not effortless, when the herd comes and we pick off the weaker animals,” he explained.

Quicksilver exhaled, thinking of the plan. It would no doubt be hard to take such creatures, and it would be perilous if other predators came for them and scared away their prey. However, the pay off would be they would at least have food for a long journey, and if Gretchen could get him out of the mountains, he would no doubt be set on his travel.

Even if it meant letting Gretchen go to her own people. It was then he made his decision.

“I think it’s doable. It would be helpful to get supplies for the journey ahead.” He had his answer, and Gretchen looked at him with a firm conviction. She then reluctantly nodded her head as well, taking another quick bite and tearing the meat in her talons before moving to the corner of the room.

“Excellent!” Lupin said, taking the last of the meat that remained on the dagger with his teeth and devouring the remaining meal. He then shifted a paw into his pack, pulled out a small parchment and laid it down on the ground. Upon inspection, it was a map of what looked like a valley within High Talon Mountains. It was detailed to some degree, marking big locations such as mountains or certain rivers, but more importantly to Quicksilver it could mean a way out of the mountains.

“This map is what I made of the surrounding areas. The boars will be converging here,” he pointed to a area that was marked ‘Grove’ on the parchment. “If the boars get there before we catch them, they will be cloistered up until spring comes and we miss our chance.

“We are about ten to twenty miles or so away from here.” He dragged his paw down and tapped on the spot on the map. “If we leave by early morning, we can get there within a few days at the very least,” he finished, rolling the map back up and putting it in his rucksack. Quicksilver could easily be there within an hour weren't not for his wings still in pain, and would not to risk them in this weather.

Quicksilver looked at Lupin, a bit puzzled.

“Morning? I thought it was already morning,” he said, looking to the outside and seeing the snow slowly coming down.

“Actually we just had dinner so I would say it is therefore night,” he explained in a matter of fact tone.

I wonder how long we have been out? Quicksilver pondered, settling down near the fire. It couldn’t have been that long ago when they fled from the Gryphon fort and escaped the Nomad’s talons, yet he couldn’t imagine being knocked out for a whole day with Gretchen. Maybe they were more worn out then he initially thought.

While he brooded over the possibilities, he didn’t notice Lupin’s actions until he presented something furry in front of him. He blinked once, looking at the hairy object before him. He turned to Lupin, who had a small smile.

“Might want to give this to your companion if you don’t want her to be cold,” he said softly, offering the blanket to him.

Quicksilver rolled his eyes at the comment and reluctantly grabbed the blanket. He felt the soft textures, and noticed it was warm to the touch. He turned to Gretchen, who stared at the wall and was silent. No doubt she was ruminating over everything and looked like she didn’t want to chat. He went over to her anyway, unwavered if she decided to lash out at him. Once at her side, she still remained where she was, still quite as ever.

“Gretchen,” he spoke softly, offering the blanket to her. She looked at him, her displeasure still visible. “Here, you can have this and-” He didn’t get to finish when she yanked the pelt away from him and wrapped it over her shoulders. He backed away, seeing she still didn’t want to talk to him. He humbly left her side, not wanting to incur her wrath. He went to Lupin, who was settling his pack to the side and grabbing another pelt from within his pack, though this one looked more like a blanket then a actual pelt.

He didn’t want to know what animal the Diamond Dog skinned it off of.

“She appears to be very complacent,” Lupin observed, giving the blanket over to him.

“Yeah,” Quicksilver took it and moved to an adjacent wall, wrapping the blanket around him. It was warm to the side and took the chill from the cold outside. He then looked to Lupin, who looked ready to doze off.

Yet there was one lingering question that remained in his mind.

“Lupin. We’re complete strangers, and you treat us like we're the best of friends. Why is that?” he asked.

Lupin opened a blue eye and gave a small chuckle. “I was always told by my mother that if you’re always kind to strangers, strangers will be kind to you,” he said, closing his eyes and resting for the night.

Quicksilver just stared at him. He didn’t expect such an honest reply such as that. He had met Diamond Dogs who were nothing but mindless brutes, as he had fought them in a number of engagements like the Battle of the Crag.

Yet, here and now, Lupin was by far the opposite.

Not wanting to delve it any further, he decided to huddle close to the wall and get a long rest. He traced his eyes over to Gretchen, her sleeping form resting on the wall opposite of him. It pained him a little that she didn’t want to speak to him, but it was his fault for provoking her. But given their current situation, they would need to work together to overcome this challenge, and by some chance, mend the wounds that they had lashed at one another.

She may hate him for taking her away from her fellow Gryphons, but at the very least, when he gets out of these mountains, she will be free to do whatever she wishes.

He closed his weary eyes, hoping to get a good night's rest. However, one lingering thought remained on his mind as he drifted to sleep.

Lupin. Where did I hear that name before.

Author's Note

Here is another chapter everyone! Hope you come to enjoy it! No art for this piece sadly, but I have more for other pieces along the way. There will be another chapter next week but after that there will be a pause until another stronger art piece comes. Don't worry, once you see it, you'll be amazed for what is to come.

Leave a comment down below, and I'll speak to you all later.

~Broman

Predators and Pride

The storms of winter were still coming down upon the plains. Day in and day out, they lashed and fell upon the earth, covering the land with an endless winter. Each flurry carried with it the fury of nature's wrath. With no pony or gryphon to tame it, it ran rampant and wild, striking out in free will with its torrential winds and blinding snow.

Upon the plains of Prance, a small wall of snow was built, protected on all sides from winter's wrath. Within the protected barrier, an encampment of Equines, Cervine and Diamond Dogs had all gathered, but many have been shaken by what they have learned from the Gryphon courier.

It had been four days since the news was made known. When Hammer gave the parchment to Silverwing, she was quite silent. An army rising to nearly twenty thousand strong was marching towards Prancy, their intent to bring it to ruin. Hearing such news would bring make any one shudder upon hearing it.

Yet now, Hammer was unsure what to do.

They stayed where they were, enduring the storm that continued to come down upon them. The camp’s inhabitants were quiet over the past few days. The only thing they spoke of was the invading army. Hammer could see the looks on their faces, the kind that worried and fear for what might happen. The guards spoke of long columns of gryphons flying over the city. Other described them marching against their allies, chasing after fleeing innocents with their halberds and swords. Their animal roars scaring the citizen's to be frozen in place. The worst of it all was they were stuck behind enemy lines, and the fear of being caught was on the precipice of their minds.

That is what is truly terrifying.

Hammer had settled near a fire to keep warm. Anvil was sitting nearby with his open book and writing in it. Snow came at a slow and steady pace, but evaporated when it was close to warmth of the fire. The noise of the fire burning and the scribbling were the only things that filled the air. It was already late in the day, with night swiftly approaching. Yet Hammer didn’t feel like sleeping.

His mind was focused on Silverwing.

Since she had read the leaflet by the Gryphon courier, she had been on the job nonstop. She had ordered everypony to shore up their defenses and train, overlooked the supplies, and asked everypony to scout out behind the safety of the walls. She had pushed herself much since then, and he had hardly seen her. He’d been sleeping on his side of the bed and away from her. She had preferred this since their little argument, growing more reclusive by the day. She had been so busy keeping everypony on their own hooves that he would wake up to see her come to bed late into the night.

Since their journey over a month ago, he felt he was alone in this wilderness.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Anvil said, breaking the silence around him. Hammer turned and looked at his friend, who was still writing in his book.

“Sorry. Got a lot on my mind,” Hammer replied, giving a tired sigh.

“It’s Silverwing, isn’t it?” Anvil replied, hitting right to the point.

Hammer looked to him and inclined his head.

“You’re right. I’m just… she’s just been pushing herself for so long. I doubt… I kind of fear for her. I don’t know what to do.”

“So go talk to her,” Anvil replied. He did it so calmly that Hammer thought he didn’t hear him right.

“Already did. She was quite adamant in making sure she keeps the camp on their hooves. Wants to keep everypony alive in the event of a attack or prepare for everyone to move out,” he explained, not wanting to imagine another conversation with her like the last one.

“Well, keep trying. You never know when you might convince her to listen,” he suggested.

Hammer turned to his companion with a raised brow. “And who taught you such knowledge of diplomacy when negotiating with a stubborn leader?” Hammer asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“Swift Leaf taught me that,” Anvil said, not missing a beat. “She said that there are two sides on every coin. One cannot exist without the other. For them, if one is willing to speak, they must understand the other’s position and where they are coming from,” he finished, a small smile plastered on his face.

Hammer blinked in surprise. He looked to the fire before him and gave a tired sigh.

“You sound like you’re in love with her,” he said so casually that Anvil nearly lost his composure. He eyed Anvil, who had stopped writing to look at him. The suddenness of such a question made Hammer chuckle at the sight.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Anvil replied, his eyes darting everywhere to find the nearest object to find interesting. “I’m also interested in their lore and history, that’s all,” he explained a little hastily before trying to get back into writing his book.

You’re in love my friend, Hammer thought, chuckling a little at his friend’s antics.

He stared at the fire and watched the flames dance upon the wood. The longer he stared, he started to notice something else as well. Some of the flames seemed to morph into two ponies, one a earth pony and the other a pegasus. They were staring at one another and they began to do a simple, yet elegant dance. The pegasus would spin in the air around her partner, while the earth pony would grab her and spin her around. The two would then continue to spin in their cycles, never letting go of one another, and soon the two transcended into the sky above.

By this time, Hammer was now staring at the sky and saw the storm clearing somewhat. Through the thick clouds and falling snow, he saw the open sky above and the stars shining brightly above their heads. Having been cooped up in the encampment and having gone through the daily grind of life, it was the one thing that he thought was the most beautiful. His mind then turned to Prancy, and the memory of the filly came to mind. He looked back down to stare at the fire once again, the images in his head never leaving.

“You remember little Flower? The filly we saved back in Prancy?” he asked.

This caused Anvil to stir with a warm smile. “Yeah, she was a good little filly. What made you bring her up?” he asked.

Hammer smiled and turned to his friend. “Remember how much I told you that I would one day like to find a wife one day?” he said.

Anvil nodded. “You were holding her in your arms when you said that. Reminiscing on being with Silverwing and everything,” he said.

Hammer sighed and looked back to the fire before him, imagining that he and Silverwing were dancing in the flames. He inhaled a breath, feeling a great weight falling off his shoulders.

“I love her. I haven’t said it to her, but I really do love her,” he said.

Anvil looked to him, his eyes eyeing him with a attentive look but a supportive one.

“So what’s stopping you?”

Hammer turned to his friend, concern etched in his face.

“She’s already going through enough as is. The past few nights we kept to ourselves, but whenever I do see her, she is so distant. She would sleep less each night, and now I worry for her. I believe she’s still mad at me for mentioning her brother. We all worry for him, just as much as she is.

“I don’t want to push myself with my feelings when she has other matters at hoof. Yet, at the same time, I want to come in and help her. To intervene in her current path before she goes to far out of my reach,” he explained, feeling his body shake slightly.

Anvil nodded to him and turned to his book. “Take a leap of faith, my friend. You’ll know when to speak to her,” he said in a casual manner and began writing into his book.

Hammer nodded, staring at the fire before him. He stood up and stretched his body, a few kinks popping from sitting down for so long. He looked to the sky above. Even though there were stars out, it was early in the night and he wouldn’t need to go to bed for a few hours. Looking about the camp, his eyes settled upon the training area, where a few of the Royal Guard were training. Their bodies moved about and exercised without their armor, their muscles flexing from the strain and getting a workout. The Cervine were also training, practicing with their weapons as well. Even a few Diamond Dogs were practicing, though it look more like they were showing off to the others in a small, yet ridiculous, fashion.

Instinctively, he raised a hoof to his wounded shoulder, feeling the bandages underneath. He felt a pressure from where his hoof touched and felt it course in his body. He lowered his hoof and a determined look was present on his face.

What good am I if I stay around and do nothing? he thought, clenching his hoof and heading to exercise with his fellow companions. Anvil reamined behind, a smile present on his face.

Unbeknownst to both of them, a pegasus captain had overheard the conversation behind the tents. A small tearful smile was present on her face.

Quicksilver walked along the mountain path of the High Talon Mountains. He was following Lupin, who was a few yards ahead of him, while Gretchen was just behind them.

It had been a quiet four days.

Since Lupin had found them, he had been escorting the two closer to where they needed to hunt for the boar. Helping him would end up getting a good amount of food for the trip home. However, persistent weather had been hampering their progress, and they could only travel a few miles at a time lest they be overwhelmed by the storms. Luckily enough, the caves that Lupin mentioned were promising, and he had a few stashes of supplies within each one. Although with each passing day, their supplies had dwindled and he had very little left in terms of food in his own sack.

To pass the time, he would indulge himself by speaking with Lupin. The Diamond Dog was quite knowledgeable, speaking much of what he found within High Talon Mountains. He knew of what animals lived in the higher mountains, and would name the foliage within the valleys below. He was very detailed in naming a few various plants, those that were poisonous and the ones that could help heal wounds when added properly. Quicksilver had asked him if he was a native dog in this region, or if he belonged to a place from far away. He would usually skirt the question by stating he did live here, but also traveled to other places. He wouldn’t pry any further then that, but his curiosity remained.

Gretchen, on the other hoof, was quiet since the past few days.

She was silent ever since they met up with Lupin. Whenever a conversation was started and Quicksilver would try to bring her in, she would always shut herself out. Any chance to ask her anything, she would growl in response or outright ignore him. Whenever he would even take a glance at her, she would appear distant, lost in thought and oblivious to the world around her. She would occasionally say a few things, but the words she would utter would be to criticize him for getting her in this mess, or to leave a snipe remark after he or Lupin were done speaking.

She was still bitter to him for getting her in this situation, but he couldn’t blame her for it. He would no doubt being doing the same thing if he was in her position.

His thoughts lingered on the implications of his actions. No doubt the Noble Gryphons, notably Ebon, would be quite furious with him for taking away his sister. If he went straight back to them with Gretchen in tow, they would most likely kept him under guard for however long they saw fit. However, the fear of the Nomad Gryphons coming and making a surprise return filled him; no doubt they would try to silence or capture him as a result. Running away was the best option at the moment, and getting out of these mountains would be his goal.

Gretchen coming along, though, was complicated enough. He recalled how angry she was when she tried to flee from him. Under normal circumstances, he would have allowed her to go. On the other hoof, since he had saved her life with the help of Saint Gregor, she owed him in getting him out of these mountains. He had hoped that by some chance she would be at least grateful to him. So far though, the pride of the Gryphons were very entrenched, and she was not wanting to be humble enough to thank him.

He only wished she would just show some gratitude, the same way he had treated her when she supported him.

“We’re here,” Lupin spoke, breaking his train of thought.

Quicksilver went to his side and observed the scene before him.

What he saw was a winter wonderland.

Below them, at least fifty yards in length in either direction, was a large lake. The water was covered in complete ice. A frozen waterfall was nearby, the water frozen in time from cascading down below. There were many brushes and trees that surrounded the lake, providing perfect cover for them to hide when the herd came. The mountains surrounded them on all sides, yet there looked to be an opening that lead to the north. He saw a little area covered in dense foliage, and that was no doubt be the location of the grove the boars will be heading. He turned to Lupin and pointed towards the grove.

“So we’re heading into the grove to capture our quarry?” he asked.

Lupin shook his head and pointed towards the lake. “That is a fool’s task. If you enter into that grove, it's a maze once you enter. I dare not go in myself, lest I get lost and frozen by morning,” he said before heading down to the lake.

Quicksilver felt Gretchen's claw swat at the back of his head. He rubbed the sore spot and turned to the hushed annoyance.

“Get on it with it, Fletching. Let's get this done and be set on your merry way,” she said, not hiding the irritation in her voice.

He sighed in defeat, knowing full well that he was not going to get her to see reason. He followed her soon after, and within a few minutes, the three were near the lake’s edge.

Lupin looked at the ice, drawing his sword in the process. He motioned for the two to stay there while he went forward, his paws brushing the snow at a slow pace. He tapped the ice with the tip of his sword, the blade ringing from the impact.

Quicksilver shuddered from the thought of being in those freezing waters. He was unfortunate to witness several ponies who were in frozen lakes, their bodies sticking out of the ice from their final moments of life. He lifted a hoof and blew hot air onto it, trying to imagine a warm fire.

“The Equine is cold. Maybe you should be near the water to warm you up,” Gretchen said in a condescending tone.

“I don’t want to argue, Gretchen,” Quicksilver replied, his gaze focused on Lupin before him.

“We’re nearly out of food, you place your trust in this Diamond Dog, and you dragged me far away from my family to the point where they would presume I’m already dead. I’m starting to get sick of this,” she stated.

Quicksilver just rolled his eyes. “It’s just a little longer, Gretchen. Just be patient and you will be on your merry way,” he replied, to which she huffed in displeasure.

Lupin tested several more minutes, examining the ice to see if it was thick enough to support their weight. After nearly another minute spent on the ice, he nodded and sheathed his sword.

“The ice is clear. Come on over,” he said, settling his pack to the ground and digging through it.

“A little longer and I’m going to lose my mind out here. Being stuck with a good for nothing pegasus and his lousy wings,” Gretchen muttered while heading towards Lupin upon the frozen lake.

Quicksilver shook his head, seeing her raise her head in an arrogant fashion. “If only your wings were as fast as your mouth,” he muttered low enough that she didn’t hear.

Gretchen paused and eyed him disparagingly as he moved past her. He didn’t care at this point if she heard him or not. Gretchen then walked alongside him, raising her head once more in arrogant display. She walked in a stride that would give the most disciplined guard a run for his money. He ignored her by keeping the same pace and going to Lupin’s side.

It ended up being a challenge to Gretchen and she matched him step for step, marching across the ice. Quicksilver grew in annoyance, watching her claws on the ice match each step of his hooves. Gretchen was likewise irritated and continued to march at a steady pace. They kept this up until they both stood at attention in front of the Diamond Dog, who looked quite amused by the sight.

“If you two kept marching like that, I believe you would be in sync. Almost to the point of trusting one another,” he observed.

Gretchen flared her eyes and stared daggers back at him. “We are not in sync, Lupin. I have no desire to trust this pony with my life,” she said in seething anger.

Much to Quicksilver’s dismay, Lupin pushed on with that innocent smile on his face. “Just saying,” he said, raising a index paw to his chin and bearing a cheeky grin. “If he marched any further with you, he would have tried to show off his wings. Maybe even attempt in wooing you.”

Her eyes widened and her wings extended straight out into the air. Her face remained expressionless, looking at Lupin with a ‘are your serious’ look. Quicksilver was also caught off guard by the comment and raised his right hoof over his mouth in a attempt to stifle his fit of laughter.

Lupin, bemused by the sight, pointed a paw to them. “Looks like your wings are doing the talking already,” he pointed out.

Quicksilver then felt his own wings extended out, although quite painfully. He turned to Gretchen and stared intently at their wings. His own right wing was sticking straight up and went parallel with Gretchen’s, the feathers brushing up against one another. They were almost equal in height from what he observed. Even through his wings still hurt, he was too dazed at the sight to even care. Gretchen turned and saw her left wing next to his, and she looked at him with a seething gaze and a heated blemish on her cheeks.

She then promptly punched him in the shoulder and knocked him straight into the ice. He landed a little hard onto his left wing, and he seethed from the unexpected pain.

“Careful!” Lupin almost shouted, his expression serious. “The ice may be able to sustain us, but too much pressure or direct impact would break it,” he explained.

Gretchen huffed in annoyance as Quicksilver slowly got up. He looked to both of his wings and gave a heavy sigh. The wings still hadn’t healed since his escape. The past few days, he had to keep them shut to avoid causing any pain, and with no bandages to help bind the broken wings, he would have little choice but to play it safe. Lupin also couldn’t provide any for him due to the bandages being needed for other means that he planned.

He had hoped that he would have the comfort needed for his wings, to fly once again in the open skies without anything holding him back. Yet despite the yearning of flight, they would need healing and time. He hoped that one day he can soar once more in the open air above. But for now, he was a grounded pegasus.

“If you are done with your lewd jokes, I wouldn’t have the need to use him as a punching bag,” Gretchen said, still appearing flustered and looking away. Lupin nodded to her, and not wanting to do anything else to provoke the Gryphon, gave out long ropes for them. Quicksilver noticed how they were tied in intricate knots, and from what he could discern, was one that could tighten very quickly with one pull.

“Alright, lay these out in a wedge,” he explained, placing one of his traps into the center. “Spread out from here. The more ropes placed, the more chances we can capture boars. That way we can-”

He paused, his ears pointing up in different directions. Quicksilver lifted his ears and could hear it too. It was a low rumble, and it was gradually picking up the pace. He looked to his left at the mouth of the frozen lake and saw snow in the distance.

Only it was rising up.

“The herd is coming. Get the traps down and tie them up. Quickly,” Lupin ordered and grabbed the ropes inside. He began spreading it across the ground and covering it with snow. Quicksilver did as he was told, settling the loop of the rope onto the ground and spreading out among the ground and covering up as best he could. He then dragged the loose rope with him until they went to their full length. Gretchen worked as well, though she seemed to rush the job then putting it down thoroughly. She was done within a few minutes, while he was about halfway through his.

After another minute or two passed, he was done setting the rope traps and bringing them to the end of the frozen lake. Lupin finished his end and tied his ropes to a old tree. Quicksilver did the same with his and Gretchen’s, getting it done quickly. Once settled, he hid in the bush nearby, with Gretchen huddled with him. He went to say something to her when she lifted a talon to him.

“Don’t. Just don’t,” she said. He remained silent, getting the message.

He looked ahead and saw that Lupin had finished tying at his end, and had settled his pack down and hid in the nearby trees. The rumbling grew ever closer, and he could hear the herd coming. It made him both nervous and excited at the same time. He could feel the thunderous hooves pound on the ground and yet he could not spot them.

Gretchen took notice of this and she huffed in annoyance. “Eager to get food in your belly, fletching?” she said, giving off a condescending smile.

He huffed out hot air, feeling it an inconvenience that he was sitting in the same bush with the hen.

“That’s good. Once you’re full, you’ll be on your bloody merry way and out of my sight,” she stated.

He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t make me punch you,” he replied with a deadpan expression.

Quicksilver heard her chuckle and she leaned in close to speak with him. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you? Like to drag me down and make me pity you whenever you break your wing tips.”

She’s really starting to get on my nerves, he thought as he gritted his teeth in frustration and looked her in the eye.

“Look, I don't have time for this. You can either shut up and wait, or you can nag my ear off and scare off dinner. Your choice,” he said in a brisk pace.

“Oi, love birds! Here's a dagger for ya,” Lupin called out as he threw the dagger across the frozen lake towards them. The blade landed a few feet short of their hiding spot. The two shared a blush, but Gretchen soon growled in annoyance.

“I hate him so much right now, but more so with you,” she replied, leaning forward until her beak pressed into his nose. He narrowed his eyes at her and he shoved his nose back at her. The tension in the air between them was high, and neither side was willing to give ground.

“What is your problem? Why are you so hostile to me when all I’ve done is try and help you?” He pushed his nose further making her arch her neck as he pressed further.

“You mean help me to help you, fletching.” she shoved back, making him arch his neck in the process. “I’m sick and tired of having to watch over your sorry flank that you might end up upon some Gryphon’s platter. I’d rather let you die out here in the cold and I wouldn’t care otherwise.”

“So you're okay with me dying in the wilderness, while you’re protective of me from being put on a spit. What’s the double standard I’m hearing? You’re being very cynical right now,” he countered.

Gretchen growled in irritation. “I value strength above weakness, Fletching. You are far from that standard, and I hate to keep watching over you like a shepherd over his lost flock.”

“I will prove to you that I am capable of handling myself without you pandering over me, Gretchen!” he yelled back at her.

The two locked eyes for what felt like the longest time.

The silence between them broke when a loud squeal was heard in the canyon.

Quicksilver was the first to break and he quickly reached out to grab the dagger, but felt a claw on his left shoulder and was pulled back by Gretchen. He went to protest when she motioned toward the sound of the boars. He looked out past the brush and saw the trees south of them begin to shake. The shadows of large creatures were rushing past the trees and were soon entering upon the lake.

The boars had arrived.

Quicksilver hunkered down, as Gretchen remained silent behind him. He still felt her talon clutch on his shoulder, not enough to hurt but enough to keep him where he was. The herd was large in size, varying in many shapes and sizes. The boars bounded down the small grass area and onto the hard lake, stampeding towards the end of the lake and towards the hidden grove. The ice still held firm, despite the mass of hundreds of bodies. The squeals of the boar’s were numerous, and their hooves pounded on the ice and snow. Across the way Lupin remained still, holding his sword in his paw and the rope in the other.

“Listen closely, Fletching,” Gretchen whispered, her body hunched low and hovered close to his ear. “You want to see true strength, then I’ll show it to you.” She backed off from him and he turned to see her exit out of the bush and towards the trees nearby, being careful not being spotted by the herd. He focused his attention on the herd, the boars still charging forward in a wild pace. He didn’t understand why they were charging so erratically.

Are they being chased by other predators? he thought, wondering of the possibility of being chased by some wild predator. The longer he stared at the herd, which were soon crossing over their ropes, he noticed something very off with a few of the boars.

Some of them had blood on their coats.

A loud roar came to his right, the sound of one ready for battle. He whirled around in time to see Gretchen burst out of the trees and right towards the oncoming herd. She skidded on the ice until she came to a stop, and she lifted her wings up and gave out a mighty roar. He’d heard this sound before. The roar sounded like a cross between a eagle and a lion, and was bellowed out of Gretchen at the charging herd. The moment this happened, the herd was spooked and the ones on the sides scattered, trying their best to avoid the threat. She took to the air the moment the boars drew closer and she hovered about, continuing to cry out in her pure form and scaring the weakest of the herd.

“Quicksilver! Pull the ropes!” Lupin yelled over the sound of beating hooves, and he did as he was told. With one mighty pull, he felt a tension as he saw several of the boars get tangled up and fall to the ground. He held for dear life, feeling the strain on the ropes as the boars within struggled and panicked. After nearly a full minute, everything seemed to quiet down. Many reached to the thickets and towards the hidden grove, never to come out, while at least a dozen remained on the ice, entrapped by the ropes that wrapped around their legs.

“Lucky Score! Quick, let's seal the deal before they have a chance to escape!” Lupin yelled out, charging out his hiding spot and towards the boars. Quicksilver did the same, seizing the dagger with his hoof and heading to the nearest boar.

When his hooves hit the ice and snow, he heard the distinct sound of cracking underneath. No doubt the ice was about to give from the sustained weight, but he must push through. He saw a smaller boar, roughly his size, was struggling in the entangled rope. With a quick lunge, he brought the dagger down towards its neck and sunk into flesh. The boar fell to the ground in a mess and he stabbed straight into its heart in order to stop it completely. Once the deed was done, he looked to Lupin to see how he was faring.

What Lupin did surprised him.

Lupin was going to one boar after the other, quickly finishing off each boar with a lunge of his sword and heading towards the next. He was already on his fourth boar by the time Quicksilver was done with the first. He didn’t have time to admire the scene for long when a loud squeal came at his right. He turned in time to see large tusks coming at him and he dodged out of the way. He rolled to a stop and turned to meet the boar, and was taken aback by its size.

The boar was much larger than anything he ever seen. It was at least twice his size, with large tusks that could skewer a pony that got close. It’s fur was a silver and brown coat, with splotches of blood on its body. Its nostrils flared out hot air as it snorted, and it dug its hooves into the ice. The larger boar went to its smaller kin that was still alive and used its tusk cut the rope.

He’s helping them escape! he thought, seeing the smaller boar flee while the larger one stayed behind. Wanting to get it’s attention before it allowed another one to escape, he quickly rushed towards it, using his dagger to slice at it’s legs. The larger boar was quick however, and it quickly swung it’s tusk at him. It caught Quicksilver in the chest and he was flung back. He rolled a few good feet until he clutched his chest, coughing up from the unexpected blow. He looked to the boar who freed another of its kind, not caring for the fight and treating him more of a nuisance. Quicksilver felt the urge to lift his wings and soar to the skies and strike from above, but his wings still felt the stinging pain and he wouldn't be able to fly out of this one.

He would have to make do with being on the ground.

He soon saw that Lupin was heading at the larger boar, trying to get it’s attention, while Gretchen hovered over the larger beast. The boar continued to ignore them, trying it’s best to break the next strands of ropes with its tusks. Getting up from his position, Quicksilver charged towards the boar, intent of shoving the dagger into its neck while it was distracted. He got it’s chance when the boar turned too late to meet him and he shunted the dagger in between the eyes. The boar backpedaled, squealing in pain and surprise. However, the dagger didn’t go through, and it was embedded into its hide. The boar shoved him back, making him slip on the ice and fall again. Lupin sliced his broadsword across its ribs, but the boar was too stubborn to die.

It was then that Gretchen made her move.

She lunged in a downward arch, her talons outstretched and aiming for its back. She landed on top of the large boar, her talons embedded deep into its flesh. The boar gave out an aggravated cry and began to buck about and shake wildly. Gretchen held on and instead of flying about, she had extended her wings to keep herself balanced upon its back. She then began to flap her wings, each flap sending snow in all directions. Quicksilver reacted in awe when she began to flap faster and more powerful bursts of wind came forth, making her hover in the air with the boar as her prize.

Then, to his amazement, the struggling boar was lifted into the air.

She was going higher and higher into the air, her powerful wings sending shockwaves into the ground and clearing the snow around them. The boar continued to struggle, squealing in anger and thrashing its body to be free of her grip. She ascended a few more feet until she was about ten meters off the ground. After a excruciating minute and with a sharp cry of victory, she dropped the boar in her talons. The larger boar plummeted head first towards the ice, squealing out in despair. The boar crashed into the ice, breaking it upon impact. The boar’s body remained upright for but a moment before it tilted to the side and collapsed. The dagger in between its eyes had lodged itself into its skull.

Did that just happen? Quicksilver thought, looking at Gretchen who slowly descended. Her body looked rattled by the effort. She landed not so gracefully onto the ice and she breathed heavily from the exertion. He went over to her, hoping she was alright. She noticed him coming and lifted a talon to him, and he stopped just a few feet in front of her.

“I don’t need your assistance, Fletching. Just catching my breath, so don’t coddle me,” she said, taking her time to catch her breath. He nodded and looked around to see Lupin was doing. He spotted the Diamond Dog carrying two of the boars with ease towards his pack.

“Get those boars quickly! Don’t let them sink into the lake!” Lupin called out, settling the two boars in his paws next to his gear before seizing the next ones. Gretchen and Quicksilver looked at one another and a silent exchange was passed. The two worked on getting the largest boar off the ice and towards Lupin.

Gretchen observed the dagger where it was still embedded inside it’s skull. “I was thinking that the fall is what killed it. Guess the dagger finished the job,” she mentioned, lifting the boar off the snow and ice.

He grunted in reply, not paying much attention to her words and instead focusing on the large boar. Water was seeping through the cracked ice, and the large boar’s weight had made significant cracks all along the ice. They would need to get it moved quickly if they were to avoid falling in the freezing water underneath them.

AWHOOOOOOOO!

A long howl broke his concentration, and he looked to Gretchen who in turn looked at him. The two eyed Lupin, who had his head up and was looking as confused as they were. His eyes suddenly widened and he drew his blade out, quickly heading to the other dead boars and dragging them off the ice.

“Get that boar over here now!” he called out.

“What was that!?” Quicksilver asked, trying to figure out what creature made that long howl. He looked around him and everything around them was eerily quiet. There were three other boars that were alive, and they all shuddered in fear, their beady eyes darting to the trees and underbrush.

“Creatures that we do not want to face! Now get over here!” Lupin ordered, dragging the two husks over, now having six dead boars next to his gear.

Lupin is very proficient with those boars, Quicksilver observed before looking back at the dead boar before him.

“Are they Timber Wolves?” he asked, turning to the trees and searching for any sign of the creatures. In the dense brush and thickets, he saw noticeable pairs of eyes staring right back at him. The eyes doubled from two to four, then eight, then several dozen eyes all staring both at him and Gretchen.

“Far worse! Blood wolves!” Lupin called out, going into his pack and scrounging whatever he was trying to find. Gretchen immediately stood up and had her wings flared out, one of her talons on top of the large boars husk. He followed her gaze and saw the feral eyes of the wolves moving into the light, and he felt his blood run cold.

The blood wolves, from what Lupin said, were big. They were about his height at least and were covered in thick furs, ranging from several different colors of brown, black and grey. At least a dozen of the wolves exited out of the brush and growled at them. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end, feeling unmistakable fear crawl up his spine. The boars nearby that were alive were squealing and attempting to flee, but the ropes stood firm and kept them in place. Quicksilver then turned to the large boar and saw the blood on it’s side and the distinct bite marks on its hide.

The wolves were hunting them, just as they were.

“Those wolves are not like those Timber Wolves that you know from the Everfree Forest!” Lupin called out. “These wolves are of flesh and bone, and they will eat you while your still alive!”

“They’re not getting our kill!” Gretchen hissed, giving out a roar towards the wolves. The blood wolves were unfazed, and eight of the wolves moved in on the three boars that were alive. The boars squealed out in panic when the wolves pounced on them, sinking their teeth into the neck and flesh. A part Quicksilver felt bad for leaving them to their fate, but it would buy time for them to get them out.

He grabbed the tusks of the large boar and began dragging the heavy beast as best he could. However, the dead boar was far too big and would not move easily. Gretchen lowered herself down until she grabbed the dagger out of dead boar and pulled it out to meet the four remaining wolves. They began to circle them, each one baring their fangs at them and prowling along the ice. The more he looked at them, the more intimidating they appeared. He wasn't sure if it was just due to their coats, or their difference between Timber Wolves. But no matter the case, they were truly a terrifying creature to face.

“Come at me, you beasts!” Gretchen roared, challenging the predators to make their move. Several growled in response and others barked at her, but they remained steadfast where they were. Besides the noise they made, another unpleasant sound was quickly reaching his ears. Quicksilver looked down and saw the ice was beginning to crack even further, sending out thousands of veins ready to burst underneath the ice.

They were pulling too much weight; the boar would have to be let go if they were to survive.

One of the wolves lunged out, its maw going straight for Gretchen’s neck. She parried with the back of her talons, knocking it senseless across the ice. Two more sprinted towards her, going on opposite sides of her. The closest one on the left was met with another smack from her talons, while she quickly swerved to the other one to catch the blood wolf in the air before using the momentum to slam it onto its back. The wolf landed hard on the ice. More cracks were visible, and small yet noticeable crevices were forming.

“Gretchen! Leave the boar! It’s not worth our lives!” Quicksilver said, slowly backing up and away from the boar, its body was sinking at a quick pace.

“Only cowards would turn and flee!” she called back, swiping the dagger at one of the wolves closest to her, while they lunged their paws at both her and the dead carcass. He noticed her eyes were not the same, as if a completely different Gryphon had took over her. Her pride of a Gryphon was making her this way and he had no choice but to intervene.

He rushed forward, wrapped both of his hooves around her midsection, and pulled her back with him.

Gretchen squawked in surprise, landing on top of him as the wolves lunged on top of the dead boar. Two of the wolves began dragging the large boar away while the remaining two were slowly approaching them.

“Let go of me! Let me fight them!” Gretchen called out, while Quicksilver got to his hooves.

“You’re no good if your end up as their lunch! Now come on!” Quicksilver pulled Gretchen up and began dragging her with him. The two ran on the ice, the sounds of the wolves barking and the ice breaking beneath, driving them to escape. Gretchen was reluctant to flee, but once she saw the ice breaking underneath them, she dashed alongside him. Lupin was at the other side of the river, still fiddling with whatever was in his pack and kept yelling out for them to run.

The ice beneath was shattering now, puffs of snow and air going straight up into the air as they pushed ahead. The ice began to shift under his hooves and he felt his body becoming off balance by the shifting ice. He looked behind himself; the wolves were right on their heels. He gave a sharp cry, trying to push his legs further before the wolves nipped at his tail and legs.

However, before they could reach them, the ice broke further, making them stop in their tracks.

Quicksilver slid on the ice, feeling the cold water on his hooves and quickly rising to his knees. He turned to the wolves; they had stopped in their tracks and were blocked by the frozen ice before them. Gretchen was with him, standing on her back legs, and having her feet spread out from keeping her from falling. The ice beneath them was slowly shifting down, their combined weight making the ice unstable. He looked back to the wolves, one of them backing off from the ice edge, while the other blood wolf, which was the largest of them with a thick black coat and red eyes, was growling and baring his teeth.

“Get out of here!” he heard Gretchen yell out.

“What are you-?” He didn’t get to finish when he felt her talons scruff the back of his neck and toss him off the ice platform. He landed and slid on the solid surface, and he turned to Gretchen at the last second to see her turning to the wolf. The black wolf lunged forward, its maw opened wide and a sharp growl emanating from within. Gretchen braced herself and caught the wolf with her talons. However, the moment she caught the wolf, the ice gave way and the two plummeted into the freezing water. Quicksilver gasped and he got back onto his hooves to search for her.

“Gretchen!” he called out. He looked at the water, which was clustered with many ice shards and chunks. From where they ran and where they ended up, the ice had broken away and stretched for over several dozen yards. There was not a single solid platform. He looked to the other side of the river and saw the wolves dragging the other half of their kill to the embankment, and they perked up their heads and looked upon the water’s edge. Quicksilver looked back at the water, not seeing anything move underneath. He spotted movement within the ice and saw one of them surfacing.

Then, within moments after her plunge, Gretchen surfaced up gasping for air.

“Gretchen!” Quicksilver yelled. She turned to him, desperation was in her eyes. “Gretchen, grab my hoof!” he yelled out, extending his hoof to her. Gretchen was treading water about five yards away, her arms pushing out and water being sent in all directions. She swam her way towards him, her talons scraping the surface and pushing away the chunks of ice that floated her way.

She was nearly there when another black figure broke out of the water's surface. The black wolf rose out of the water and dog paddled towards the ice, likely to get out and jump at them. Gretchen saw the wolf appearing out of the water and doubled her pace. Quicksilver still held out his hoof to her, trying to seize her claw and pull her out of the sub-freezing waters.

She was a yard away, her talons nearly reaching him. He looked behind her and saw the wolf was getting out of the water, its eyes opened up and stared at them, growling deep and ready to strike.

Quicksilver risked himself by reaching out further, his chest and body falling halfway into the freezing water and he had to arch upward to keep his body up and out of the water. He seized her claw and pulled her towards him, desperately trying to get out of the water. Gretchen wrapped her talons around his neck and turned to the wolf, kicking her back paws to deter it. He tried to pull her up, trying his best to get out of the water while she flailed about.

But the wolf lunged towards them, and its teeth opened to bite on its prey.

Gretchen screamed out.

BOOM!

A thunderous noise broke the thrashing struggle, and Quicksilver saw something splash next to the wolf, jutting out water and ice into the air. The wolf landed in the water and quickly paddled itself back across. Within a few seconds, the wolf bounded back onto the other side of the ice and was shaking it’s coat.

“Here, take this and get, you scavengers!” Lupin called out. Quicksilver saw one of the boars carcasses fly in the air and land right next to the black wolf. The wolf eyed it before turning back towards them with its red eyes glaring. Then without a moment's hesitation, the wolf seized the small boar with its teeth and dragged it towards the other side. Quicksilver and Gretchen were silent, almost stunned by the fact that they escaped within an inch of their lives, and that the wolves had left on their own volitation.

But they were not out of the woods yet.

Quicksilver wrapped both of his hooves under her arms and pulled her up and out of the freezing river. She shuddered and her teeth chattered from the intense cold. He looked to Lupin, who was putting away something within his pack before putting onto his shoulders.

He wondered what that loud noise was to spook off the wolves.

“Get her over here. You don’t want to end up as their meal,” Lupin said, pointing to the wolves. Quicksilver followed his gaze and saw more wolves exit out of the forest. Large and small, from grown adults to tiny pups, they all were dining upon the fresh kills. He didn’t want to linger and observe them, so he decided to get Gretchen out of here.

“What are... you doing?” Gretchen asked slowly, the cold getting to her. She was being lifted up and placed onto Quicksilver’s shoulders, her large frame lying over his form and her neck hanging off his head.

“It will be easier to carry you this way. Now don’t complain,” he started, moving towards Lupin. She sighed in annoyance, wrapping her talons around his body to hold on while he trotted over to Lupin. He noticed how reluctant she was in accepting help. He ignored it for now, because judging by how the snow was starting to come down more and with her being in the freezing river, she would need a place to warm up. He came up to Lupin’s side, who had strapped up the remaining boars to his pack, their bodies dangled by their hooves with thick ropes. Lupin looked like he didn’t break a sweat and he carried the heavy pack and the five caracasses without showing any sign of trouble.

“How are you faring?” Lupin asked, looking upon Gretchen who rested on his back.

“V-very…cc-cold,” she shuddered, her body hugging tightly against Quicksilver’s body.

“She needs someplace warm, otherwise she’ll freeze out here,” Quicksilver mentioned, feeling her body continuing to shake.

Lupin nodded, looking up to the mountain path that was close by. “I got another cave that is close by, about five miles. Think you can last long?” Lupin asked. Quicksilver felt Gretchen nod to him. Lupin looked up the mountain path and began his trek dragging the boars with ease behind him.

“C’mon. The day is ending quickly, and those wolves will be on us if we linger.”

Quicksilver looked up to the top of the mountain until all he could see was the cloud cover. Steeling himself, he began to follow close behind, carrying the freezing hen with him.

The ascent up the mountain was slow and bitter; the snow whipped in the air and smacked against their bodies. When the first hour passed, they were moving at a snail's pace where they had to dig through the mountain path. The higher they went, the more dangerous the wind became, threatening to pick them off the mountain and send them down to the valley below.

Lupin still kept ahead of them, despite all the weight he was carrying. Quicksilver gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed as he ascend the mountain path. Gretchen was still shaking, despite the warmth on his back. He felt the cold getting to him, from his wet hooves and his partially soaked coat, with the snow sticking to him and making his movements sluggish. Gretchen stuck to his body, still holding onto him despite the cold.

After what felt like a full journey’s worth, they finally were near the entrance to a cave, and Lupin pointed inside.

“Get inside, quickly. I’ll start a fire once I get this done,” Lupin said, dropping the dead boars outside while Quicksilver went in.

The cave was large in size, same as the other ones they’d been in. Branches and leaves littered the floor, untouched by the snow outside. The air within was a little warmer, but the constant wind chill outside was freezing them to the bone.

He went to the far end of the cave, settling himself down and letting Gretchen slide off of him. She shuddered from leaving the warmth of his back, and he was at her side when she curled up on the ground, wrapping her talons across her chest.

“Gretchen? How are feeling?” Quicksilver asked, wanting to know if she was okay. Gretchen still shook considerably, her eyes staring up at him in obvious annoyance.

“This...bites,” she shuddered, her body curling inward, trying to keep off the cold. Quicksilver looked to the entrance of the cave, seeing Lupin settling his pack down and heading back outside. Lupin had the extra rope and began tying the hooves of the dead boars up.

“Lupin! She’s freezing! We need a fire or she’ll die!” Quicksilver demanded.

The Diamond Dog waved a paw at him. “Hold your horseshoes! If I don’t get these boars in the trees, then the wolves will snatch away our kill!” he called out, using his paws to hoist the dead boars and go to several of the large trees nearby.

Quicksilver huffed in annoyance and looked to Gretchen on the ground. She looked rather pale from the light outside, and he didn’t know for how much longer she could hold out until Lupin was ready with the fire.

It was then he thought of an idea that would help.

Gretchen looked up at him when he lowered down to his haunches and picked her up by the shoulders, settling her up until she was sitting and was leveled with him.

“Fletching? What… are you doing?” she asked. Her words stuttered out, her teeth chattering in the process. Once he had her upright, he placed both of his hooves onto her shoulders and slowly brought them around her. She noticed this and tried to fight, shaking her head at him and barring her teeth. She wanted to push him away, but both of her claws had a mind of their own and remained firmly across her chest. Quicksilver noticed her wings were wrapping themselves around her front, trying to shield away from his approaching form.

“No!” she said in a curt and aggravated manner, already feeling his chest brush up against her wings and chest feathers.

“Gretchen, I’m trying to help. I’m going to keep you warm,” he explained, his expression calm despite the cold.

“No,” she repeated, trying to back away. However, Quicksilver held onto her shoulders and still kept moving. “I don’t need help from the likes of you!” she said, the venom in her words falling flat from how her body was considerably shaking.

It was then Quicksilver huffed out hot air and forced her to look him in the eye.

“Oh, will you just shut up and put your pride aside! I’m helping you, whether you like it or not, even if you find this belittling to you!” he shouted.

Gretchen froze on the spot. Her golden eyes stared back at him, and he remained determined to do what he wanted to do. He looked into those proud orbs, seeing the burning will within her. Yet he knew that it was to be the best if she was to make it through the night.

Then, with a hesitant sigh and gritting her teeth in defeat, she closed her eyes and leaned her head forward into his neck.

Without another word spoken, Quicksilver wrapped his hooves around her body and pulled her close. He felt the cold feathers underneath his hooves, but he also felt the strong muscles shaking underneath her form. Her head rested right underneath his neck, while her body leaned forward into his open hooves. Despite having snow accumulated on his coat he made the most of it and tried to keep her warm. He shivered somewhat from the cold that remained on her, sapping away his heat to keep her warm. The wet feathers had yet to dry, and they felt like shards of ice prickling at his fur. He looked down to her cold and trembling form, her head bouncing up and down on his shoulder.

“I hate this...I hate this,” she muttered slowly yet audibly. Her pride was put on the line for so long, and now she had to relinquish it all for his aid. Honor and pride was something that Gryphons favored, and there was no doubt in his mind that she felt like the weak one here.

After a minute of being held close to her, he found that she was still shaking. Pity grew in his eyes for her, reduced to such a state. He then slowly opened his wings for her.

He winced and groaned slightly with his wings extending inch by painful inch. They extended outward until they were at their full length. He hadn't used his wings in quite awhile, and with no bandages to keep them covered, they had to endure the cold winter nights. He took a deep breath and allowed his wings to go forward, wrapping around Gretchen’s body. She eyed this, seeing him exert himself and wrapping his wounded wings around her frame. She looked up to him and Quicksilver gave a meek smile. She frowned at him before lowering her head and resting it back on his shoulder. After another moment of effort, he had both of his wings wrapped around her body, keeping her in a cocoon of warmth. After a minute of silence between them, he looked down to her and whispered softly to her.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his words shaky yet kind and genuine.

“Pluck off,” she whispered back, her eyes remaining closed and her head still resting on his shoulder. He merely half-chuckled at her remark. He recalled that he was also in the same position before, being wrapped up tightly in her body like a giant pillow. Being on the opposite side of the spectrum, he didn’t think this to be half bad.

It felt nice even.

After another minute, her body had slowly stopped shaking and lowered to light shivers. His temperature was now about the same as hers. He looked back down at her again, seeing her still resting comfortably in his embrace.

“You got to admit,” he began to say, though his words were shaky. “This kind of reminds me when you were in the same position...”

“Don’t… just don’t,” she replied in a bitter manner. He chuckled again and tightened his embrace, although a little painfully with his wings still wounded.

“Well… at least we'll freeze together,” he said. Gretchen merely chuffed in response. Quicksilver remained where he was, and underneath he could feel her body rise up and down with each steady breath. He remained with her like this, the quiet of the world around them is all they would hear.

Eventually Gretchen would doze off into slumber, her body held upright by Quicksilver. The pegasus would remain awake a while longer until he saw Lupin enter inside. The Diamond Dog had settled his gear and began working on a fire in the middle of the cave.

“Hold on my friends,” he said, starting to work on the fire.

Quicksilver’s eyes would wander over to his pack, where it remained open. He saw something he had not recognized or seen before, and looked like some kind of metal pipe with wood near the end.

His mind couldn’t linger any longer on the object before he would doze off into sleep, his body he leaning into the ground with the slumbering hen. His eyes closed and the peaceful dreams would soon overcome him.

While Winter's wrath and fury would still raged through the night.

Author's Note

Much happend in this chapter. What Happens next will come very soon.
Art for this chapter was made by TurnipBerry.
https://www.deviantart.com/turnipberry/art/Commission-for-b25Roman-758085726

Truth and Pain

Hammer breathed heavily into the cold night air. He had finished his exercise, his wounded shoulder being tender with overexertion. Despite that, he felt if he kept doing this everyday, he would rebuild the strength within his left shoulder.

He also trained among the other guards and Cervine in their exercises, getting their bodies warmed up in the cold air. He even partook in a wrestling match between several of the guards and the Diamond Dogs. He was outmatch by the big Rexxar who managed to pin him to the ground with ease. The others were a little lucky in overcoming the diamond dogs strength but it was a tough grind. Overall, it left him worn out and he didn’t regret any of it.

He needed to keep his mind off of things, particularly with the threat of the Griffon invasion. The thought of approaching Griffons, clad in heavy armor and a determined will to fight, would keep anypony on edge. Yet, despite that, he knew that they would be safe so long as the wall kept them covered. He looked to the night sky and noted that the land was still covered in the snow storm. The snow fell at a rapid pace, but calmed when it entered into the encampment, due to the snow wall taking the brunt of the force.

Having done everything he wanted, and with night approaching, he headed for Silverwing’s tent, hoping for a good night’s rest. Saying good night to his friends and allies he made his way over, passing by the tired denizens of the camp. The sound of the snowstorm hung above his head, the wind picking off the tops of the wall and splattering everywhere within the camp. He didn’t mind when some of the snow fell on him, as it cooled his warm body.

The confined spaces of the camp kept everything warm to him somehow, and the other guards and Cervine were unaffected by the necessary changes from weeks previous. There had been no issues whatsoever with the doubling and tripling up the number of beds into a single tent; everypony was resting comfortably and weren’t affected by the cold. Even if the chill wind cooled his body, he wanted nothing more than to rest the night away.

He made it to his tent and entered inside, finding it to be empty. The beds were still separated, and he didn’t want to make any changes. Silverwing was certainly not talkative, and he hadn’t a proper time to have idle conversation. He sighed. It was a heavy weight on his heart, wondering what was happening with her and if she was over her tribulations.

He decided to let such matters go for now, and started heading into the bed. Within moments of his head hitting the pillow, his mind was already drifting to sleep.

The dreamscape took hold of his mind and he appeared to be floating in the expanse of his mind. He didn’t know where his dreams would lead him, nor did he seem to care or mind. The sky around him changed and shifted, turning from orange to bluish hues that made the skies that more beautiful. Buildings formed out of the earth, rising high into the air along with spires that reached to the heavens. The buildings were intimidating, yet they felt eerily familiar and he felt comfortable among its presence. His eyes wandered down the unblemished streets, going upon one home to another with many families. He saw many of the pony families from the three tribes, each having a home of there own within this familiar city. He could see their happy faces and the tranquil peace of their children playing with one another.

Even if it were a dream, he wished this to never end.

He was moving down the road, wandering from one home to the next. He then laid his eyes on one home in particular. It was at the end of the street, with a hay roof and cobblestone walls that was finely made. A few flowers were hanging near the window sills, and the smell of lilac hung in air. Everything seemed so peaceful, so real, and he felt at ease. The soft cry of a happy child emanated from within the home. He quickened his pace, opening the door and entering inside.

What he found was an adorable sight.

The living room was covered in soft pillows and blankets, making a small sizable fort. The little foal he had heard turned out to be a filly, and he saw the little one was happy in playing in the blankets and pretending to be a knight. She had a blue coat and silver hair with white streaks through it. The moment the door closed behind him, the filly turned to him and a deep smile spread across her cheeks.

“Daddy!” she cried out and rushed to him.

He blinked in surprise as she wrapped up her hooves around one of his legs as best as she could. He sat on his haunches and looked at her vibrant eyes. He smiled, seeing her filled with such wonder and curiosity. She went to his chest and rubbed her muzzle into his fur. He instinctively wrapped his hooves around her small form and felt his heart flutter with the embrace. He wanted to hold on and never let go, as if he would be forever lost if he did.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw a figure coming towards him, one that was all-too familiar to him. He looked up and his eyes widened to see Silverwing walking to him, a small warm smile on her face. She didn’t have her cloak on, revealing her soft blue coat and silver hair, which was pulled back behind her ear where the strand of blue separated her mane. She beamed at him, and a radiant aura seemed to spread off her. She made the room feel more open, and he felt assurance that she was with him now.

She walked up to his side, sitting on her haunches next to him with the filly in between both of their hooves. She didn’t say anything, still giving off that infectious smile which made him smile even more. She brought her hoof down and grabbed his own, lifting down towards her coat. He allowed her to do this and she placed his hoof over her belly. His hoof was pressed gently against her stomach, which looked pudgier than usual. He felt something underneath his hoof, moving within her. Realization hit him when he looked into her sparkling eyes, and a pure joy spread throughout him.

She was pregnant.

Without another word, the two lowered their heads, brushing their muzzles together before pressing their foreheads against one another. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he held his position, while the tiny filly in between them hugged both of them in turn.

Hammer was so overwhelmed with joy that he didn’t realize that he had awoken from his dream, fresh tears spilling down his face. The warm touch of Silverwing faded, and the tiny filly had evaporated from his mind. He silently wept that the dream had to end so soon.

His eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, and he found it eerily quiet. He raised his head up and looked about him, wondering if she was here. He looked to her bed that was a few feet away and still empty. In fact, it hadn't been touched since he went to sleep.

She hadn’t gone to bed? he thought, feeling worry grow within him. He stood up, pushing the warmth of the bed off of him and heading outside in hopes of finding her. He exited the tent, the snow from outside crunching underhoof. He looked about the camp and saw at least two guards standing guard near the fire. He didn’t pay much attention to them, but decided to look about the camp in the hopes of finding her.

He searched around the camp, the snow caving from each step of his hooves. He felt a chill in the air, but it seemed less than what it had been hours before. He looked to the skies and saw the clouds above were sparser than before, even though there was still some snow coming down.

After five minutes of searching, he did not find any luck in her whereabouts. He then turned to the center of the camp, spotting a third figure that attended the guards. Curiosity seemed to grip him and he went over to see who it was. Once close, he saw that it was Cottontail sitting by the fire.

“How is your shoulder, Hammer?” she said, not looking his direction.

“How did you know I was out and about?” he replied, soon standing at her side.

“You’ve been walking about in search of somepony. You’ve done poorly in trying to be subtle about it,” she explained.

He gave a small chuckle. “I am searching for Silverwing. Have you seen her?” he queried.

She turned her head slightly until her eyes laid upon him. “Ah, Your captain,” she said softly and motioned her head towards the snow wall.

“You will find her on the ramparts. That is where I last saw her,” she explained.

He looked at the direction of the wall and wondered why she was there. He thanked her and quickly sped towards the location.

“Hammer, stop!” He heard her voice call to him and stopped in his tracks to look at her. Cottontail lifted herself up off the ground and walked over to him, placing a hoof onto his cheek. “Silverwing's mind is much troubled, Hammer. Be sure to choose your words with care. Maybe you can help ease her troubled heart,” she explained, patting the side of his face with her hoof in reassurance.

Hammer nodded his head in understanding, and he turned in the direction of where Silverwing would be.

He only hoped that she was still alright.

After a minute of scaling the makeshift path on the wall, he stood on top of the snow battlement. He looked about him, but the land was covered in darkness. The only light that seemed to shine was the stars above, which were covered in a veil of clouds. He looked on either side of him, searching for anypony standing on the wall. He found no sight of anypony, and he worried for her even more. A part of him believed that Silverwing wanted to be left alone, but another part of him needed to find her.

He kept walking, kept searching for any signs of her. After a thorough search on top of the walls, he spotted a figure out in the middle of the snow. He squinted his eyes and saw a cloaked figure staring away from the camp.

It was Silverwing.

A feeling of joy escaped him, and he jumped down to the ground below. He landed a little hard, the snow impacting a little from his weight. He felt a little twinge in his left shoulder, but he shook it off and moved with haste; he could deal with own wounds at a later date. He trotted towards her, kicking up snow into the air. He felt the wind pick up a little, kicking up the snow from on high a little, but he didn’t care.

All he cared was getting to her.

He slowed down until he stopped at least a dozen feet behind her. She didn’t react to him approaching, nor did she turn her head to meet him. She remained still, looking out to the mountains in the distance. The wind picked up around them, and he saw her mane blowing gently in the wind, flowing like the endless seas of grass in spring.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, his own emotions overwhelming him. Had any other stallion taken his place, they would certainly wouldn’t have gotten this far without filling the sheer emotion within him.

“Silverwing?” he asked softly, his voice carrying over in the wind.

Silverwing remained still, still staring out to the High Talon Mountains. He waited for a reply, yet nothing came out of her.

He narrowed his eyes to her and he took several steps forward, until he was about a couple yards away.

“Don’t you hear it?” Silverwing spoke. It was so quiet that he thought it was a whisper on the wind.

“What?” Hammer asked, his hooves remaining embedded in the soft snow. The cold wind around them remained for a bit, but the snowfall had lessened to a steady descent till only a few flakes would fall. Looking at Silverwing from behind, with her mane flowing naturally in the wind, she could easily be mistaken for a live painting.

“Around us, Hammer. It’s quiet,” she explained.

Hammer cast his gaze around him and indeed, he didn’t hear anything. He heard her sigh deeply, taking in her surroundings.

“It’s so quiet you can actually hear the snow fall,” she explained.

Hammer blinked, his brow raised. His eyes wandered up to the skies, the clouds having parted slightly and showing the moon high above them. He listened, emptying his mind to hear what she was hearing. Indeed he did hear it, the soft snow coming down and landing all around them. It was a simple yet beautiful sound, and it was not as distracting as the crackling fire or the storming of hooves.

It was just a simple, pure sound that surrounded them.

Silverwing sighed deeply, her breath caught in the cold night air.

“I’ve been coming out here every night to listen,” she whispered. Hammer brought his head down to look at her. He noticed she pushed her cloak over her head and it fell over onto her shoulder. He saw her sleek silver mane flowing more freely. Hammer waited, his heart rising slightly from her beautiful form.

He wouldn’t dare of thinking of that word. But no other word could compare to define her exotic nature and of her being herself.

“I’ve listened to the sound of silence around me, Hammer,” she explained, not looking back to look at him. He remained still, waiting for an opportunity to speak. For now, he just wished to hear what was on her heart.

“I’ve been out here night after night, listening and waiting. I kept thinking to myself that if I just listened closely, I could hear my brother,” she said. Her eyes almost looked on the verge of tears when she mentioned it.

Hammer took a few more steps forward, stopping just behind her. He felt he should say something, some comforting words to ease her worry, yet he remained silent.

“I thought a lot about what you said, Hammer,” she continued, her words heavy and filled with sorrow. “I yelled at you, turned you away, disparaged you when all you wanted was to help.” She turned to the head to the side, revealing her face to him, to which he found tiny streams of her tears cascading down.

“I’m sorry,” she said above a whisper. “I want you to know I’m sorry.”

“Silverwing...” Hammer said, still staying where he was.

“I’ve been so caught up in search of my brother that I neglected to put into your own feelings,” she said.

Hammer’s eyes opened slightly, yet he didn’t say anything.

“You were right. My brother could be dead for all I know. Yet in my heart I can’t shake this feeling that he is still out there, waiting to be heard, ready to go home after so long. Yet I know, even if he was dead, I still wish to get his body and give him a proper burial.”

She turned back to the mountains, her gaze fixated upon the high peaks of the mountains. Around them, the light from the moon above shown brighter on the ground, making the snow glisten.

“I just have to know. I just wish to get to him, and yet now more than ever I feel I have failed. I failed my brother, this company and even to you. The stallion who confessed to his best friend that you love me.”

“Silverwing I-” Hammer interjected, but stopped in surprise.

She paused and turned her head, her ears pointing back to him. His mouth hung open and he felt his heart skipped a beat.

Did she just- His mind went numb from her reply, and she waited patiently for his response.

Hammer had his moment, and he knew he couldn’t waste it any longer.

“Silverwing, you are not a failure. You are a far more talented pony than any other that I have met. Listen to me when I say this: you have an altruism that goes beyond those for whom you care. You’re selfless because you care. You care how everypony is, your heart just pours out kindness and your humble words are a light on the distant shore,” he said.

She remained quiet, listening yet unmoving. He took one precarious step closer, his entire being wanting nothing more then to hold her, yet he restrained himself and continued to speak with absolute conviction.

“Silverwing, you took in the Diamond Dogs when others would have left them be. You offered solutions and even settled disputes with the Cervine. You are the voice of reason, and you make the toughest decisions that no other pony would make. Your self-sacrifice for this company is admirable, but you shouldn’t sacrifice your own life just so that you can feel you are doing what’s right. What would Lieutenant Quicksilver think that his only sister is risking her own well being and body? What would happen if you were in his shoes, and the only thing on his mind was to make sure you were safe while you were locked up in a cage?

“I know in my heart that he cares for you, Silverwing! He knows that you’re safe, even when he is locked away. He knows that you're taken care of, that you are in good hooves and knows you can rely on us to help. Just like this company, like Strong Oak and his rangers, just as Brutus and his pack, and above all me! I care for you too, more than you know. Because I love you.”

His words hung in the air like a silk blanket over a bed. He drew a heavy breath and his heart raced, letting his true feelings hang in the air.

Silverwing turned her head further, her eyes finally meeting his and he saw fresh tears coming down her muzzle. He felt his heart ripped from his chest seeing her like this. She slowly turned all the way around until she stood in front of him. The light of the moon was more visible as the clouds above cleared away, and the two just stared at one another in the cold, as if they were the only living beings in the world.

Silverwing made the first move by taking a step towards him, closing the distance between them. Hammer watched as she moved, the curves of her hips moving from side to side, her hair blowing gently in the winter wind, and her vibrant eyes captivating him. Even though she looked tired and weary, her eyes still held some of the luster that made her the way she is.

He offered a smile, and his heart pounded hard in his chest, threatening to burst. Silverwing was now in front of him, her eyes still holding their brilliance to him.

She gave a tender smile.

“Thank you… Hammer. I… needed to hear….to hear that, and I do…. share...”

She unceremoniously fell into his chest.

“Silverwing?” Hammer said, albeit quite surprised. She hardly moved, and her wings hung off the side of her while standing on all fours. He placed a hoof onto her back and he looked down to her. “Silverwing are you alright?” he asked, a little apprehension in his voice. His worries were put aside when he saw her breathing normally and her eyes closed.

She was fast sleep.

Hammer looked to the air and gave a bit of a chuckle. She had spent this entire time out here, and yet she now of all times goes to sleep while standing up. He didn’t mind it either, for he knew in his heart that what he said was true and Silverwing was safe.

“C’mon, lets get you home,” Hammer said, lowering his body till he was holding her back and lifting her up onto his shoulder. He sidled her body until she laid flat on his back, her hooves and wings dangling off the side like a lazy cat. Hammer lifted himself up and began walking back to camp, the sleeping captain resting on top of his shoulders.

Once back inside the camp, the sounds of the crackling fire echoing around them and he headed towards Silverwing’s tent. He passed by the guards, who at first had looks of concern. However, they eased a little when they saw that she merely fallen into sleep. Cottontail, who remained near the fire, gave a small smile to him.

“Sleep well, Hammer,” she said, humbly bowing before him.

He smiled and nodded back to her. “Are you not going to bed?” he asked.

Cottontail chuckled and looked up to the stars above. “I will be staying up for a while longer. The stars looks peaceful this winter night,” she said.

Hammer nodded to her and he went on his way to the tent.

He entered inside, the warmth of the tent hitting him first once closing the entrance. He helped shake off the snow that accumulated on both of them, the frozen water falling to the ground below.

He moved over to her bed, gently lowering her slumbering form into the blankets. He picked up her silver head and settled it upon the warmth of the pillows. Once finished, he went over to his bed and pulled it closer to her side. He entered into the blankets and sorted them until they covered both of their bodies. He sighed with much content when the chill of winter had faded, and the warmth embraced him like an old friend.

He felt his hoof brushed and looked to Silverwing in front of him. Though she slept heavily, she narrowed behind her lidded eyes and her muzzle scrunched up a little. He couldn’t help but chuckle; it made her usually authoritative demeanor into that of an adorable sleeping filly. He lifted his hooves and wrapped them over her shoulders, pulling her sleeping form closer to him. He felt it was right, in all their time together. Here and now, he truly felt it. A warmth had entered his heart and filled the gap that was missing.

He felt whole with Silverwing at his side.

He waited a moment when he felt her lower legs pulling closer to his own, and he smiled to see that her face relaxed and a small smile gracing her sleeping form. He lowered his head in a downward fashion, letting it rest over her head. Her own head, on instinct, lowered further into him, until her head rested on his neck. He sighed with much content, and his eyes drew heavy with slumber. As he closed his eyes and sleep overcame him, he knew in his heart that he had overcome his fear that she was in danger.

He believed he would sleep soundly this night, knowing the mare he loved was safely in his hooves.

Quicksilver groaned slightly as he began to stir from his long slumber. He felt his body constrained and unusually warm. He slowly drew his eyes open and lifted his head from off the ground. His nostrils flared; a familiar smell wafted in the air. He saw the fire within the middle of the cave with a small spit of meat was hanging over it. The fire was nice and low within, burning embers and small tinder, and cascading the room in a orange and yellow hue. He looked to the exit and saw the hunched form of Lupin, who was sitting idle, and he could hear a whetstone upon a blade.

He then felt a body shift underneath his hooves, and he looked down to see Gretchen still wrapped in his hooves. He blinked as he saw it was not only her that he was holding, but a large thick blanket with heavy furs had wrapped around them.

No wonder it was so comfortable, he thought, his eyes tracing down to Gretchen’s sleeping form. Her head rested soundly against his chest, her arms lax and her wings not as protective over her front as from the night before. Her breathing was slow, and she looked very at much at peace wrapped in his embrace.

A hint of a blush plastered on his face, and he averted his eyes away from her.

So that is where your heart lies. That is good, young Quicksilver. That is good.

The words of Gregor hung around his head like a new painting on a tattered wall, and he groaned inwardly from remembering them.

I’m not attracted to her, he thought.

You didn't hesitate to wrap your hooves around her, the other side of him spoke.

He blinked in surprise by his rational side’s words and shook his head slightly.

Didn’t you say it yourself? She’s a gryphon, I’m a pony. She’s doesn't care for me.

You keep telling yourself that, the inner voice replied.

What would you know? he replied back, but the voice was silent.

He sighed and looked back to Gretchen. She had brushed her head against his chest, her feathers soft against his coat. He felt a sudden heat rush to his cheeks, and he lifted his head away. He looked back to Lupin, who still sat idly near the entrance.

He sighed and slowly unwrapped his wings off of Gretchen. They were still sore from being open for so long, but it was at the very least necessary. He lifted his hooves off her and settled the blanket over her form. She curled inward from the lack of heat, and her head rested on the blanket like a curled cat. Once out of his small confinement, he wandered over to Lupin, who had remained silent to his approach.

“Morning, Lupin,” Quicksilver said, walking over to his side.

Lupin didn't reply, but instead kept his gaze to the outside. Quicksilver eyed him with a bit of concern. Lupin looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep, and yet he appeared wakeful and alert of the outside. Quicksilver followed his gaze, wondering what exactly he was staring at. They were situated near a cliff base, a small path leading upward and down and with trees towering overhead. The winter storm had subsided outside, and much of the land was covered in ice and snow.

It was an eerie, yet beautiful sight to behold.

“I’m sorry,” Lupin said, so soft that Quicksilver had barely heard it.

“What?” He turned to the Diamond Dog, who had finished sharpening the blade and settled it down upon his lap.

“I want to apologize,” he repeated, his ears falling flat and his eyes cast downward.

“Whatever for? You got what you needed and more for your job,” Quicksilver explained.

Lupin shook his head, rubbing one of his arms in uncertainty. Quicksilver eyed him with worry. He did more than enough to help them during their time together, and they secured food to last them for a time. Yet he was undoubtedly acting he had done some horrid act that he had hid behind his back.

“It’s my fault you’re in this predicament. I didn’t need your help, nor needed your company,” he said, still staring out to the vast landscape.

Quicksilver didn’t follow his gaze, instead fixating on him and with a sense of uneasiness crawling into his body.

“What do you mean?” Quicksilver asked, in a tone both hesitant and demanding.

“I stole from you,” he explained.

Quicksilver eyed him, raising a brow in puzzlement over what he meant. When he didn’t reply and remained in silence, Lupin continued on with his confession.

“When I first came to that cave and I saw you two already huddled together, I was ready to toss you both off the cliff. I noticed your food sack was open, however, and I couldn’t help but indulge myself while you slept and added more wood to your dwindling fire.”

Quicksilver’s eyes widened slightly, yet he remained silent. It would explain when he woke up that the fire had not gone out during their rest.

“After eating my fill, I decided I might have killed you both while you sleep. Yet, I hesitated,” he explained, a shaky breath escaping out of him. He shook his head from some of the loose snow that stuck to him. “The way that you two held each while sleeping, it reminded me of something. Something that I had missed in my life.”

Quicksilver blushed and shook his head. “No. Gretchen and I are not a couple. We’ve reminded you plenty of times since-”

“Doesn't matter what it was,” Lupin interjected, his blue eyes tracing over to Quicksilver, who stiffened from the dog’s sudden glare. “All that matters to me is that it reminded me of one of my own that I cherished and wanted to protect. I had killed many to survive, but it was all to protect the ones I cared about. Including in that bloody pass many years ago,” he explained.

The moment he mentioned that, Quicksilver stood up and backed up a little upon realization. He finally recalled where he had heard his name.

“Mad Dog Lupin. The one who caused a riot after the Battle of the Crag. The one that killed hundreds of Cervine and Royal Guards alike.” Quicksilver said, staring at Lupin with much shock and spite.

Lupin remained staring at him, shaking his head ever so slightly, his tongue clicking as he open his mouth to speak. “I rather hated that name. I merely freed my brothers and sisters so that they could find a way out of this gods forsaken war,” he said, turning to look out to the vast wilderness before them. “There is no need to be so defensive. If I had come to be hostile, you wouldn’t be alive to speak to me now.”

He’s right, Quicksilver thought. This whole time he could have raised his sword against them, hacked them down like wheat on a field and left them to rot. Yet, despite the sudden awareness of the Diamond Dog’s true identity, he couldn’t help but feel the need to listen. He sat on his haunches, yet still kept himself fully ready in the case he acted against him.

“I decided to leave you be and waited until you both woke up. After your argument with each other is when I introduced myself to you both,” Lupin explained, his head lowered and tracing a paw over his sword. “I suggested the idea of the boars, yet I knew that I could easily dispatch them. I’ve hunted in the mountains for many months and knew where they would go and where they would be. In any case, I was going to use you both for bait while getting the kills I needed.” Lupin drew a paw to his face, brushing against his cheek and face and wiping away the weariness over his eyes.

“I would test what I wanted and easily kill two birds with one stone, yet I was not prepared for the blood wolves to arrive. I expected them, yes, but not as soon as I wanted. When you and Gretchen fled, and you helped drag her out of the icy waters, I couldn’t commit and instead deterred the beasts away.”

Quicksilver eyed him and recalled the sound of thunder the moment he had grabbed Gretchen and was pulling her up. He looked at Lupin who looked pitiful, if not remorseful. He felt pity grew in him, yet at the same time he felt resentment to him over what had befell the Cervine and fellow guards.

He had a few friends that he grew up with who’d died in that pass.

“What weapon did you use?” Quicksilver asked, cutting straight to what Lupin was referring.

Lupin eyed him and inclined his head. He brought his right paw down, pulling up a long object from his side and presenting it to him.

Quicksilver couldn’t make heads or tails at what he saw.

The ‘weapon’ that Lupin held was the length of Lupin’s arm. It had a wooden base at the bottom, with a metal barrel on the top. On one end, it had a hole that widened outward, while the other end held what appeared some sort mechanisms of iron and some machination that he could not describe. On the end of the strange mechanism was a match that look burnt on the end.

“What… what is this?” Quicksilver asked, marveling at the strange weapon, but having a shaky fear crawl up his spine.

“It’s called a matchlock. Invented by Gryphon’s design not long ago,” he replied.

Quicksilver's eyes widened and he stood back up and looked at the weapon.

The gryphons had invented a new kind of weapon!? Quicksilver thought, his mind already a swarm of questions of how many of these things are there and what devastating consequences would follow if a company of Gryphons had these.

They wouldn’t stand a chance if they tried to meet them head on.

“I can see from your reaction that you’re not wanting to curry any favors with Gryphons,” Lupin chuckled, settling the weapon back down onto his lap. “I was told not only to hunt for the boars, but to test their weapon of war. It has.... surprising results,” he explained, placing a paw over the matchlock.

“It has a trigger that makes the flint here move forward, igniting the powder within, then with much speed as phoenix and the power of a manticore's swipe, it can pierce through armor and heavy shields with ease. Even if you were wearing the thickest armor, you could feel the impact sending you to the ground,” he explained, seizing the weapon, lifting himself up from the cold ground and heading towards his pack.

Quicksilver eyed him as he placed the weapon inside his pack. A small sense of relief escaped past his lips, while a cold dread of fear remained over the weapon and what it can do. Lupin grabbed the pack and hoisted it up onto his shoulders, a purpose driving through him when he headed for the exit.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Quicksilver asked, stepping towards the exit.

Lupin paused, lowering down to pick up his sword and sheathing it in the scabbard.

“Quicksilver, my life has been filled with hardship. There are similar views, but many differences in our lives. Your life, as far as I see, is far better living then my own wretched life. I commit heinous acts, yet in doing so, it is to help the ones I care for the most. For the barbaric acts that I committed, it was all in defense of my people and freeing them. I still have lives that I care for now, even when others would see me in a bad light,” he explained, finishing putting on his gear and looking out to the wilderness outside.

“Let me ask you, Quicksilver. When you have the chance to run away and escape a hell that wishes to consume you, are you willing to take that chance? Are you willing to put yourself over others, or are you willing to take a risk and save as many of your brethren out of the same situation? Are you prepared to go all the way in your commitment in serving your kind with honor and distinction? If that be the case, you will find that your life will be far more filling and worthy of living, then that of a coward’s life. As mine has.”

Quicksilver remained silent, lost to his thoughts. Lupin sighed and adjusted his gear before turning to look at him once more.

“I’m leaving that blanket for your use, and I left a few supplies that will last you for a time with your rucksack. I pray for your future endeavors, Quicksilver. Also, I fear that the next time we meet, I will have to fight you. I dearly hope that does not happen,” he said, emphasizing the last few words with great care and began heading outside.

Quicksilver went forward, stopping in front of the Diamond Dog and blocking his path.

“Lupin, I still don’t understand. After all, that you’ve said and done...I just… I just can’t…” He couldn’t finish his words, nor comprehend everything that he had heard.

His mind was still reeling from the discovery of the weapon. Lupin was also the sworn enemy to the Cervine and Equestians alike. Yet, despite what he did, he had saved their lives. He grimaced at the thought.

Lupin noticed his inner turmoil and gave a soft smile to him, his jowls lifting up to a toothy grin.

“You have a good heart, Quicksilver,” he said, placing his right paw over Quicksilver’s left shoulder. He looked up at the Diamond Dog, a sense of pride seemed to radiate off of him. A familiar presence seemed to overwhelm him as well, reminding him of an old friend from long ago who had helped him and his sister in their dire need. His early misgivings and animosity to the Diamond Dog melted away like the snow to a blaze.

“With a good heart and good intentions, you can sway even those most stubborn of fools. Including her.” He gestured to Gretchen, who slept silently in the corner. Quicksilver eyed her, his heart twinging slightly by how much Lupin’s words hit true. “Be her shield, Quicksilver. Live with honor and glory that is in service to others and not of yourself. No matter how dire the battle, you should never forsake them. Become selfless to those who are not below you or above you, but as an equal.”

The words of wisdom poured out to him and Quicksilver took in each word that he spoke. Lupin smiled at him, patting his shoulder in reassurance.

“Farewell, Quicksilver,” he said, lifting his paw to give Quicksilver’s mane a rub and heading outside. Quicksilver followed the Diamond Dog’s gaze, as the dog went to a tree and tugged on a small rope. The bodies of four of the boars fell haphazardly onto the ground, yet Lupin didn’t mind at all, and he carried them onto his shoulders with ease. He then began walking into the snow, leaving Quicksilver and Gretchen within the cave. Quicksilver kept track of him until his body disappeared in the fog and snow and the Mad Dog… no…. Lupin was gone from his sight.

Quicksilver fell onto his haunches. An overwhelming unease was lifted off of him and he shuddered considerably.

For he, even with his painful past, had truly met a noble warrior.

Author's Note

Thank you all so much for seeing this next chapter. Next chapter will have to wait I'm afraid, for there is an art piece that needs to be made, and I am willing to wait. Please tell me of your thoughts down below and I'll see you all again soon.

Art for this chapter was done by Neko-me. Please do go check out his work, for I think it truly deserves more attention.
https://www.deviantart.com/neko-me/art/You-are-safe-now-763852684

Morning Glory

Quicksilver sat in silence for a long time. The warmth of the fire still lingered, and he tended to the meat that was on the spit. He stared at the fire before him, contemplating on what he’d learned.

Lupin had left around an hour ago, revealing that he had orchestrated them being together for the past few days. No matter what he could say or believe, he couldn’t blame him over what he had learned. Lupin has done heinous actions in the past, but hearing it from his own mouth over what is right and wrong, could he really blame him? If he was in his hooves, there was no doubt he would do whatever it took to save his own kin and escape a terrible fate. Though he had committed violence in the name of justice, he did so in saving his own.

For a long while, he kept thinking about the possibilities, but no matter how many times he perceived it, he knew that Lupin did what was right, even at the cost of many lives.

As he pondered over what has happened Gretchen began to stir from her sleep.

“Hmm… what?” Gretchen muttered, rubbing her eyes and getting her bearings. Quicksilver took notice of her when she rose out of the blanket, her feathers slightly unkempt and her eyes fluttering.

‘Be her shield.’ Lupin’s words lingered in his mind like an arrow embedded in wood, and they would not be easily removed.

Why does that affect me so? he thought, watching her bring a talon to her face and gently brush away some of her low-hung feathers and smoothing their surfaces. He knew he felt indebted to her for saving his life, but at the same time he felt the need to help her more. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, despite being opposites in the war and in species. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But he could not remove these strange feelings, the need to protect her and help her.

He had felt it when he took her with him out of the mountain, and he felt it again when he saved her out of the water and from the jaws of those blood wolves. He just wished he understood what his true feelings were telling him, even though he believed it was not fathomable.

“Fletching?” Gretchen’s voice broke his train of thought. He looked over to her, seeing her sit up from her bed. The blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her feathers. He blinked when he saw this and shivered at the sight. He inwardly berated himself, keeping his mind focused on what was at hoof and the situation they were in.

“Morning, Gretchen. You sleep well?” he asked, wanting to start off a conversation that would be simple and distracting from his own deprived thoughts.

“I never felt so warm,” she mentioned, looking at the bed and casting her gaze around the cave. “Where is Lupin? I thought he would be here?” she said.

Quicksilver motioned his head to the outside. “Lupin left around an hour ago. His task was completed, so he said his farewells and parted ways,” he explained. He didn’t tell the full truth, not wanting to make this dialogue between them turn sour.

“I see,” she said, brushing away the blanket and rising to her full height. She gave a stretch, her talons extending outwards and arching her back like a cat.

A sudden flutter coursed through his heart. His wings had a sudden urge to extend. He repressed them to the best of his ability and tried to remain as calm as possible. She then settled herself near the fire, enjoying the comforting warmth. She sighed with much contentment, extending her talons out to receive the flames’ worth.

“I take it he won’t return,” Gretchen said in a calm voice, focusing her attention on the fire.

Quicksilver nodded, keeping an eye on the fire before him. “Yes. He had more pressing matters to attend to,” he replied, trying to keep the conversation to the point and not having any further distracting thoughts. It seemed to work for the most part, but he didn’t know why these strange feelings kept popping up into his mind.

“How are you feeling? From yesterday?” he asked, his ears folded back, feeling a little uneasy, while he waited for her reply.

“I’m fine, still feeling bitter, but fine.” she stated. He inwardly sighed. He didn’t know how upset she still was over their past arguments, but no doubt the blood wolves had set aside such petty things. He didn’t wished to indulge in any other ponderings but still, he felt he needed to settle any remaining matter between them.

“Care to share the meat?” Gretchen broke the silence, pointing at the slab of meat that hung low over the fire. It had been resting over the fire for some time, getting to a brown coat on all sides. He was happy to oblige, taking the cold end of the spit with his hooves and hovering the meat off the ground. Gretchen motioned over, grabbing the nearby knife that was settled next to the fire. She quickly brushed it off and began cutting into it. He waited patiently as she cut a slice of the boar meat and took a cautious bite. She beamed a little and cut another strip, then offered it Quicksilver. He nodded, wrapped the spit with his one hoof and grabbed the meat with the other. It was quite warm, but that didn’t stop him from partaking it in putting it in his mouth. He chewed thoroughly while Gretchen cut another two thicker slices until the meat disappeared.

The two sat silently as they ate their meals. Gretchen looked about the room as she ate her fill, while Quicksilver finished eating his piece and gave a small sigh. He looked out to the outside world and pondered for a moment their current situation.

They were both stuck in the mountains, and with limited supplies he knew wouldn’t last long without some sort of help. He knew his wings still ached and he would feel the twinge of pain in the joints where they were broken. If they weren’t like this, he would soar on out of the mountains and be homebound to Prancy and into the waiting arms of his fellow Equestrians and with Silverwing.

If only that were a possibility.

“You can’t get enough of boar meat,” Gretchen said, stretching her arms over her head. Quicksilver muttered acknowledgement and cast a sideways glance to her. “But you know,” she said midstretch, “I would really like some fresh barley and a good trollinger.”

Quicksilver hummed in satisfaction, however, a familiar growl emanated from his belly in protest. An interest in food piqued his interest for both him and his stomach.

“That so? I wouldn’t mind some barley soup, with chopped onions, carrots and celery. Wash that down with some cider and you’re set for the night.” he explained.

She curled one of her own brows and merely scoffed. “Ha. That does sound good. But even better is my family’s goulash soup, with a four pound beef with salt mixed in olive oil, pepper, lots of potatoes and paprika dashed with garlic.”

“That does sound good. Any chance that there is a vegetable version?”

“Indeed there is,” she beamed. “With a bunch of chopped vegetables and chopped onions.”

“Oh, you know what would go so well?” he asked. “Some hot, fresh bread with butter and jam spread on the top.” He leaned forward and pressed his hooves together. “The finest and freshest bread that just cringles every time you press it together, and to top it off with some Hush Heath,” he explained.

Gretchen merely moaned, her breath chuckling out in the pure imagination of eating such delicacies. “You should stop, Fletching. My mouth is just watering from the thought,” she explained, pressing a talon to her chest in faint mockery. “Though, having some fine bourbon will make me the happiest bird,” she explained.

Quicksilver lifted a hoof up and pretending to have a mug of his own. “And I would toast your wine with some hard cider,” he proclaimed.

She smirked, her smile creeping up to one side of her face, and she lifted a claw clasped around an imaginary gobbelt.

“Hear hear!” she shouted, chuckling all the while. He soon joined her, sharing the laugh with her. Both their mirth soon subsided and they both sighed contently, staring at one another for time while the fire continued to burn before them.

It was strange how things had settled since yesterday. Before hoof, Gretchen would be silent to nigh insufferable. But now, she had a calm demeanor and didn’t mind cracking a joke with him. He wondered what changed, but he couldn’t help but feel a little banter would help them both in the days ahead.

Gretchen sighed and looked out to the world outside, where snow covered the laden path and a thick fog had rolled in, covering the far lands below.

“Wish I could get some of that food you spoke of. A nice Mutton in claw and some fine mead. But we can only dream of such things when out in the wilds,” she explained.

“Yeah,” Quicksilver nodded, his attention drifting to the sounds of the wood creaking and crackling from the embers within. If he didn’t know any better, he still probably smells heavily of campfire.

Either that or he had gone nose blind.

“Not much we can do but carry on, I guess.” he explained, his eyes fixated onto the crackling fire.

Gretchen stirred and rubbed a talon under her chin, contemplative over his words. “Well not necessarily, Fletching” she explained.

He stirred. “Pardon?”

“Well, the lake where we caught those boars...I know that lake. I visited whenever I came to my family’s cabin.”

Quicksilver blinked to this information. He had recalled that General Quill had a cabin in the north, and if that was anything to go by, they would have shelter with possible food and supplies.

“You know where the cabin is?” he asked a little enthusiastically.

She noticed his sudden change of behavior and she nodded with a light smirk.

“Yes, but don’t get your wings tangled in a bunch. From where the lake is, the cabin is still far, up towards the mountains in the north. We would only go there when it was warm and when my uncle wanted to tend to the cabin. But flying there would be dangerous since the unpredictable weather and the chance of fog blocking our field of vision,” she explained.

“Even so, is there at least a mountain path that could get us up to this cabin of yours?” he asked.

“There is… but it is rarely used unless we brought wagons full of supplies,” Gretchen explained, lifting her talons over to get warm next to the fire.

This was excellent news. If they could get there, they would be able to settle for a while to gather further supplies and…

Why am I thinking about us and not myself? he thought, his trail of thought stopping completely.

Gretchen noticed his silence and smirked at him. “Don’t worry, Fletching. There will be plenty of supplies for you there,” she explained.

He perked up, but gave a quizzled look. “You’re going to take me there?” he asked.

“Why not? You need to get supplies for your journey, and I just want to see it again before we depart our separate ways,” she explained.

Quicksilver felt a slight twinge of pain from how she described it, but he ignored it for the practical knowledge that they had. If what she said was true, then her family cabin would have the means of supplies that he would need to trek across the plains.

If they managed to get out of the mountains, that is.

“Alright, we’ll rest up here before we decide to leave,” he explained.

Gretchen nodded in approval. “That’s fine with me. Just be sure to keep up, Fletchling.”

“Likewise.”

***

Hammer stirred underneath the thick blankets. He yawned as he his eyes fluttered open and looked at the slumbering mare within his arms. Silverwing was fast asleep, her head resting on his chest and her hooves wrapped around his sides. Her breathing was slow and peaceful, her face calm and unbothered by any torment. It would seem her dreams were peaceful, thankfully.

His heart felt a flutter when she rubbed his chest with her muzzle, bearing deep into his fur while in blissful slumber. He guessed she was really out of it the night before if she was still this tired He raised a hoof and brushed her mane, pushing it out of the way so that he may see her face. A small smile graced her lips and her eyes were shut tight, completely oblivious to the world around her.

If this war was already over, he would have imagined them in a different situation.

Putting such thoughts aside, he decided to get some medical herbs from Cottontail and Swift Leaf. Knowing the lack of sleep she had gotten in previous days and having a much longer sleep in, there is no doubt she would be having some issues when she wakes up. He slowly unwrapped himself away from her form, her arms sliding gently down his sides and laying flat upon the surface of the blanket. Once separated, he got up and gave a quick stretch, his back giving out a few audible pops in protest. He grunted before turning back to the bed and moving the blanket back over her shoulders. She moved in her sleep, wrapping herself further within the blanket.

She looked really cute the way she cuddled with the blankets.

He soon headed outside and into the camp, which to his surprise was already active. His fellow guards were finishing their meals and beginning to train in the training grounds, the Diamond Dogs were playing and fortifying the wall, and the Cervine were chatting amongst themselves.

How long have we been out? he thought, watching a pair of Cervine and Royal Guard walking by and discussing amongst themselves. He decided to head for Swift Leaf and Cottontail’s tent, knowing full well that they would have something in mind to help with any headache or pains that Silverwing would have when she wakes up. The snow above was not coming down while he walked. The skies above looked clear, and for once, he even could see the sun through the clouds.

He hoped it would last for a while; he was getting tired of snow falling on top of his coat.

He arrived at the Cervine tent and tapped upon the entrance.

“Swift Leaf, Cottontail? May I come in?” he asked in a quiet voice.

There was no response.

“Are you there?” he said again, this time a little louder. Again, there was no reply.

He furrowed his brow and wondered what was amiss. A noise emanated from the room, but it sounded like a muffled moan. He blinked, raised a hoof to the flap and pushed it aside. He poked his head inside, and his eyes widened slightly at what he was staring.

Anvil was resting on his side, with Swift Leaf curled up right next to his side.

He blinked and shook his head, wanting to be sure that what he was staring at was real. Anvil was lying there, snoring slightly with his right hoof draped over her body. Swift Leaf was curled inward, her head resting near her side and dipped low. He didn't know how it was possible for her neck to bend like that, but she did it.

He looked to his friend, and a smile was present on his face.

Anvil, his best friend, was in love.

“Anvil?” Hammer asked in nearly a whisper. His friend didn’t stir and Swift Leaf didn’t say a thing. Hammer took a breath to speak again, but found his nose assaulted by heavy musk within the air.

He raised a hoof over his mouth, unsure how to respond. “Anvil, you didn’t,” he muttered.

It was then he saw his friend began to stir. His head raised from his pillow while his mane, which had grew since their time out here, fell off the side of his head. He blinked once and gave a big yawn before turning to nuzzle the top of Swift Leaf’s head, completely unaware that his friend was standing at the entrance. Swift Leaf began to stir and muffled something under her breath. Anvil seemed to smile and nuzzled once again, his red mane draped over her orange mane, creating a version of leaves of autumn.

Hammer couldn’t help but give a big grin to him and a slight chuckle at the sight.

This caused Anvil’s ears to perk up and his eyes opened wide. He looked up and saw Hammer standing there with a smug look on his face.

“Uh, this is not what it looks like. This is…” Anvil began to say, but was interrupted when Swift Leaf raised her head and brought it hovering under his. She nuzzled upward across his neck and chin, sighing in much relief while Anvil remained still, taking in her affection.

“Anvil. You were wonderful last night,” she muttered, before resting her head underneath his chin. He blinked down to her and then back at Hammer, whose grin only rose ever higher.

“I can explain...” he tried to say as quietly as possible, even though a blush was clearly visible on his face. Hammer raised a hoof to him and stopped him from speaking, all the while Swift Leaf nuzzled further into him, almost threatening to make his head fall back into the bed.

“There is no need, my friend,” Hammer muttered softly. He raised a hoof and gave a firm salute. “Carry on.” He lowered his hoof and quickly departed, leaving Anvil’s mouth gaping and speechless, all the while Swift Leaf continued to snuggle into his neck and chest.

Hammer exited the tent, leaving the two lovebirds in their place of rest. Knowing the two were going to be ‘occupied’, he looked about the camp, hoping to find any trace of where Cottontail might be. All he saw was the camp occupants speaking among themselves and continuing to train in the training ground. He couldn’t find a hair of Cottontail among them and wondered where she might be.

His search was answered when he spotted her exiting out of Silverwing’s tent.

There you are, he thought, a little jog in his step as he made his way over to her, kicking up loose snow on the ground underneath.

Cottontail turned to him and smiled when he approached her. “Good morning, or should I say afternoon, Hammer,” she said.

Hammer gave a quick nod, making a mental note about how long he had been out with Silverwing. He took note that she had slight bags under her eyes, but other than that she didn’t look worse for wear.

“Didn’t know it was already this late in the day,” he replied with a small chuckle. He then looked about the camp for a second before turning back to her. “I take it that you were checking on Silverwing as well?” he asked, his voice hinting much concern.

Cottontail nodded and turned back to Silverwing’s tent. “She had not been sleeping the past few days. I came and brought her a meal that will help her,” she said, turning back and placing a hoof onto his left shoulder. She applied a little pressure and examined his reaction. He would wince slightly when she touched a tender spot, but the pain didn’t bother him as much.

“I see that your wound has been healing nicely. Once this is all over and you get proper healing, your shoulder will no doubt be made stronger,” she said, leaving her hoof off of him. He smiled and examined the bandage on his shoulder. He had no doubt that his shoulder would heal, so long as he was careful and retrained the muscles.

“It is thanks to your healing that I’ve manage to make it this far,” he explained, a small smile present on his face.

“Just be sure to not overdo it. Silverwing will no doubt need you in the future,” she explained. He still kept his smile high at the thought. Cottontail then narrowed her eyes slightly, and a whimsical smile was present on her countenance. “That smile of yours is not only for Silverwing, is it?” she asked, her smile ever remaining.

He blushed slightly and cast his eyes back to her tent, where no doubt his friend was currently occupied with his ‘bedmate.’

“I thought you or Swift Leaf will be available to speak about Silverwing. When I poked my head in I found… more than I expected,” he explained, a soft chuckle escaping him. He looked back at Cottontail, but she didn’t seemed bothered by what he has mentioned. He curled a brow to her, and a curious nature seemed to grip hold of him when she didn’t act the way he expected. “Did you know anything about this last night?”

Cottontail chuckled to herself and gave a pat on his good shoulder. She then walked past him and heading towards her tent.

“I did sleep under the stars last night. It was more tranquil and peaceful than staying between a quarrel of lovers within my tent,” she explained, soon leaving Hammer to where he was. Hammer couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head, only imagining the possibilities of what went on the night before.

“Anvil, you have many copious details to explain,” Hammer muttered with a half chuckle and half grin while entering back into Silverwing’s tent. Once he entered, he looked down and saw two small bowls with a hefty amount of food within. The broth smelled heavenly with barley and potatoes, and he bent down to take one of the bowls for himself. He turned to look at Silverwing, who was also enticed by the smell and frowned in her sleep. Her eyes opened up and she squinted, clearly a bit disoriented.

“Huh… where…?” she asked, raising a hoof to her head and rubbing softly on her temple. She looked down, seeing the food bowl and looked at Hammer. She gave a soft smile, even though it pained her.

“Morning, Hammer. Did you just bring breakfast?” she asked, still rubbing the soft spot on her head.

“No, Silverwing. Cottontail came on by to check on you, so she brought food that can help,” Hammer explained.

She nodded, pushing the blankets aside so that she sat on her haunches. “Well, that was kind of her,” she muttered incoherently, probably due to her sleep deprived state. She took the warm bowl and alllowed her hooves to wrap around it. She sighed when she held the pottery like one would hold a warmed towel. Wordlessly, Hammer raised his bowl to her and gave a toast to her. She likewise raised her food bowl, and the two shared a quick laugh before digging into the meal.

The two sat in silence, simply enjoying the meal that was provided for them. The broth was warm to Hammer’s lips when he drank down the meal. Silverwing also enjoyed it, and it appeared that it rejuvenated her tired state, though she still looked weary after downing most of the meal. After he was finished, he grabbed the bowl and turned for the exit.

“Where are you going?” she asked, finishing up her own meal.

Hammer stifled a laugh when he saw her breath in the cold air. “Going to give the bowl back, and once that’s out of the way, I’m going to train my body and get my shoulder toughened up,” he explained, hoping that she was not going to berate him over his own wounded needs.

“Oh, let me at least take this with you,” she said, trying to stand back up from her position. However, she became woozy, and fell back onto her haunches and into the blankets.

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to be moving, Silverwing,” he said. A hearty laugh escaped his lips while grabbing her bowl for her. She huffed out in slight annoyance, but a moment later a smile returned to her face and she settled herself back into the bed.

“Very well. I will sleep a few more hours before going out to see the troops. However,” she mentioned, placing her body within the comforts of her bed, “I may require something of your assistance in the not distant future. Are you willing to help when I call upon it?” she asked.

Before he exited the tent and off to exercise for the day, he chuckled back at her and gave a humble smile.

“As you wish, my lady.”

***

Quicksilver was walking in an orderly manner behind Gretchen. She was leading them up the mountain path to the north, to where her family’s supposed cabin resided. They had left after another hour of rest within the cave and been marching for the past two hours. It was not snowing, thankfully, but the fog had rolled in and shrouded the mountain in a thick mist. They left with everything they had to carry, though he was the one who held the sack over his back and carried the provisions, giving Gretchen nothing to hold. He didn’t seem to mind; for some reason, he felt it would be polite to her.

Since they began their journey, she had been quiet since their arduous journey up the mountain. He didn’t say anything to her, nor she to him. They kept their distance when they walked, and he had complete confidence that she was not going to take off and leave him in the snow.

He had saved her one too many times for her to betray a debt such as that.

His eyes wandered off the path and towards the deep canyons below They were at a very high altitude, yet he couldn't put an estimate due to the rolling mist that hung in the air. Thankfully, it was snowing lightly and it didn’t impede their march up the mountain, but they certainly had been burning miles from when they have left this morning. He wondered how long they needed to go before the night would come for them.

“Hey Gretchen, how much further?” he asked, his eyes still focused on the mists below and wondering what awaited them down in those endless canyons.

“It is close. Just up the mountain, if we fly there,” she explained in a somewhat mocking tone.

“And yet you don’t want to risk it in this weather?” he asked.

He heard her huff out air in front of him. “You never know what updraft will come or some squalline that will forced us to the ground. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to risk me flying when you believe I will go straight home,” she explained, not once looking back.

Quicksilver grunted in reply, turning his gaze away from the canyon below and toward the trail.

However, what his eyes followed was not on the path ahead, but on Gretchen in front of him.

She was moving at a slow and steady pace, but he noticed that her hips began to sway from side to side, her tail brushing the snow with each pass. He blinked once, not understanding in his mind of why he was staring at her swaying body. The curves of her muscles formed around her catlike body. Every step that she made made those back legs of hers push and pull on her back muscles. He knew from experience that those legs could push hard, powerfully and gracefully. He felt a distinct heat growing in his cheeks, and he didn’t know why he found her backside so fancy to look at.

Is she doing that on purpose? he thought, trying to focus on the path in front of him. But he couldn’t help but glance back and stared at her form. This time he focused on her back and midsection, the place were feathers met fur, and recalled the subtle touch when he had felt when he was embraced by her back in the Gryphon encampment. The touch was soft and unique, blending in softness from the fur to the pillow-like feathers.

Had he not felt the pain with his stiffening wings, then he would have just kept staring.

I’m not falling for her, am I? he thought, forcing his wings down and trying to get ahold of himself.

Is that your head telling you, or your heart? his inner voice spoke to him.

He shook his head to clear such thoughts. I’m not listening to you. I can’t be attracted to her, he shouted back in his mind. His inner voice remained silent as he looked back onto Gretchen. It was then he eyed her wings and how well they looked compared to his. He remembered when she held him, enraptured in her own wings, that there were rows upon rows of plumage that embraced him in warmth and security. The blood in his cheeks rose again, and an innocent thought crept into the back of his mind.

I wonder what they will feel like if they were preened and-

He didn’t get to finish the thought, as the mountain of pressure and heat in his cheeks began to take his toll. He then promptly slapped his head onto the side of the mountain and had his head buried in snow. He quickly recomposed himself and shook the snow off his head. He then ran up to her until she was on his right side, and he was thankful that she hadn’t notice his little freak out. She eyed him by his sudden appearance, but she didn’t say anything to warrant any questioning. She kept her gaze forward, and he sighed deeply in relief.

Goddess, my imagination will be the death of me, he thought, feeling a bit of sweat fall and freeze on his face.

Maybe ignoring what’s in your heart will do just that, his inner voice returned.

He fumed out air so that he may forget his inner voice. He also felt his heart skip a little from his own mind’s quick jump to judgement.

“I do hope we get there soon. I wish to be in a comfortable bed and eat a warm meal,” he said aloud, distracting from his distorted thoughts and hoping to stir a conversation he could focus on.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Gretchen replied, the two rounding a bend and moving uphill on the beaten path. He walked close to the edge of the wall, while Gretchen remained on his right, sighing in content. “Roast mutton. I can hardly wait to dig into a good meal such as that,” she explained.

“Barley soup with fresh bread and jam. Can’t get enough of it,” Quicksilver replied.

Gretchen chuckled at his quick reply. “Continuing where we left off this morning, Fletching?” she asked.

He chuckled at the afterthought. “I guess I’m still hungry, I guess. Hopefully we can get to this cabin and finally get a good meal in…” He had turned to meet Gretchen and the last of his words slurred out of him when he saw that she was staring at him.

“...us.”

Her golden eyes were half open, and she looked at him with much curiosity. His mind seemed to freeze and were lost for words. Her eyes captivated him, holding his gaze for the length of the path. There was a mystery in those eyes, the color of gold making her prestigious and sophisticated. Her golden eyes seemed to be the only thing he could focus on, for they stood out more than the white bleak landscape that surrounded them.

“Is there something wrong?” Gretchen asked, still keeping her gaze upon him, but also having that same look from before. That curious, relaxed nature of it all that made him seemed lost to her.

“What is there to be wrong?” he asked, still staring at her and a sense of longing overcoming him.

“You’re staring at me like you’re lost for words,” she explained herself.

Quicksilver merely blinked back at her, still engrossed by those golden orbs within. “I guess it’s just your eyes,” he replied without thinking, still staring at her.

She blinked once and curled a brow to him. “My eyes?” she asked. Still curious by the sudden reply, she chuckled and gave him a smirk. “You’ve seen my eyes plenty of times. Why would they be any different now?”

“I don’t know,” he stated, blinking back at her. “I guess I never considered them to be so alluring, if not enchanting.” he said without thinking once again.

Only this time, a reaction came out of her. Her eyes widened and she blinked a few times, wondering if she had heard him right.

The realization hit him over what he had said, and he raised his right hoof to her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like that. Forget I ever said….anyyyyyy!!!”

The last of his words fell out when he felt something bump into his left hoof, and he face planted directly into a pile of snow.

The action was so abrupt that Gretchen clutched her sides and began to laugh hysterically at his clumsiness. He snorted in embarrassment and rolled onto his side to look at the hen quaffing madly.

“You should have seen your face! The way you fell was priceless!” she explained, still holding a talon to her belly while the other talon wiped away tears from her eyes.

He rolled his eyes at her and began to get up from the snow. “Oh sure, laugh all you want. The Fletching has done made a fool over himself, while tripping over a talon in the snow,” he said, gesturing to said talon that was buried in the snow.

He blinked in surprise over what he had said, and he did a double take over what was in the snow.

“Talon?” he uttered, and looked back down in the snow pile on the ground.

Gretchen ended her mirth and she looked down with him. He turned to her for a moment and looked back at what appeared to be a claw in the snow. A possible dead corpse lying underneath. The snow pile was far higher than the path around them, an unnatural formation. Quicksilver lowered himself and brushed away the snow that surrounded the talon. Underneath, he saw the claw was next to a body of what appeared to be a Gryphon.

“Who could have been killed up here?” he said in nearly a whisper as he brushed the top of the snow mound, pulling away large mounds of snow. After a few quick strokes, he saw brown feathers on top of the Gryphon’s head.

“A Nomad!” Gretchen said, her voice raised in shock and worry. Quicksilver kept digging, pushing the snow off the dead Nomad and inspecting the body further. He saw multiple cuts and stabs along his chest and body, including a slice in the throat. The blood was dry from how dark it was, and judging by the multiple cuts and stab wounds, he was in a fight for his life. His eyes traced back to Gretchen, who looked horrified, but not at the body. She was staring upward, and he followed her gaze. He saw a few visible blood patches that were dry, and they were climbing up the side of the mountain.

Whoever this Nomad was, he had a nasty fall coming down the mountain.

“Fletching. Do you trust me?” Quicksilver blinked and turned to Gretchen, seeing the distraught appearance on her face.

“What?” he asked, not sure if he had heard her right. She unfurled her wings, outstretching them to their fullest extent. Quicksilver backed up from her sudden appearance, his back against the stone wall while Gretchen took a step towards him.

“I said do you trust me?” she said, this time a bit more sternly and filled with determination, wreathed with concern.

He blinked once, uncertain to where she was getting at as she approached him. “What are you doing?” he asked, lifting a hoof to her to stop her.

She rolled her eyes, exasperated from his ignorance. “I have no time for this,” she said, stepping closer to him, and before he knew it, Quicksilver felt her talons wrap underneath both of his front legs. Before he could register as to what she had did, her wings began to take flight and the two of them were heading up the mountain.

“LET ME DOWN!” he yelled, his hooves wrapping around her back while her claws held around his body.

“Hold still, Fletching! I have to focus!” she replied back in a stern manner and ignoring his pleas. Her talons clutched tightly behind his back, pinning him in place and putting him parallel with her. Gretchen was flying higher and faster, unimpeded by the wind and snow that came down on them.

“I thought you said that you couldn’t fly in this weather!” he cried out.

Gretchen disregarded his question and kept flying, pushing herself faster up the mountain. No doubt wherever she was heading to, she was determined to get there. He held on for dear life, his hooves still wrapped around her back, just underneath her wings and right between where fur met feathers. He held tighter with each thrust of her powerful wings ascending ever higher up the mountain. He pressed his head against her chest, feeling her rhythmic heartbeat pounding within her chest. He closed his eyes and imagined himself flying the way that she was.

He wished his wings were already better.

After what felt like hours the mist around them dispersed. Quicksilver witnessed the mountains a little clearer, even though the clouds of winter hung over head. Gretchen had slowed down, her wings keeping them hovering in the air. Quicksilver turned his head to see where she was looking at. He noticed a sizable area, where one side lead to a path while the other lead to a large home.

“No,” Gretchen said in a harrowing whisper, hoverwing closer to the edge. She dropped down on all fours, letting Quicksilver slip through her grasp and landing softly on the snow. Quicksilver watched as she began walking towards the home. Quicksilver righted himself and stood up to see what was going on.

What he saw instead was a massacre.

Nomad Gryphons littered the ground, half deep in snow, and the ground covered in dry blood. Some were sprawled out in heaps while others were missing a few limbs here and there. He counted at least six bodies on the ground, and he could see multiple tracks scattered about the snow, but they could have been several days old as far as he could tell. Some scattered weapons were visible as well. A broken sword on one side, a cleaved spear, and a broken halberd lined the ground. He saw Gretchen moving towards the cabin, and his eyes traced to where she was going, her movements speeding up as she went. He followed her, but soon found that she was now running at full speed to the front door.

His eyes had only a few seconds to scan the cabin exterior. It was a two story building in Gryphon design, with multiple windows on each floor. The front door was slightly ajared, with one of the hinges broken at the top. On his left, another dead Nomad was displayed hanging out the broken window, a piece of glass jutting out his neck and chest from where he landed.

“No, no!” Gretchen yelled out in panic, bursting through the door without care and looking throughout the home. Quicksilver followed her, trying to make sure that wherever she was going was not going to get her killed. He passed by what appeared to be a living room and a dead body along with broken furniture. That made it to eight Nomads, if he included the one that was at the bottom of that mountain path.

He looked to his right. Another nomad lying on the ground, covered in cuts and with several broken chairs were scattered about the kitchen. That made nine.

He could hear the shuffled and panicked paws from Gretchen, searching the house of its content and whoever lived within. He heard stairs creak and he made his way down a small hallway, which was quite large in size, and saw another body on the staircase. This one had a sword embedded deep into his guts, and his eyes were lifeless upon the cold floor.

That made ten bodies.

“No! Please Gregor! No!” Gretchen was practically crying out up the stairs, and Quicksilver followed in pursuit. However, she was just ahead of him, with him missing her by seeing her tail disappear behind the next corner. He quickly ascended the last steps, following the distressed hen down another hall. He saw three doors, one that was shut on his right and the other two wide open, and down the hall lead to a fourth door that had wooden carving etched into the door. The floor was covered in blood, a trail leading to the edge of the stairs and down towards the end of the hall.

Gretchen slowed until she reached the last door, seeing it open slightly. A breeze seemed to blow through the door. She opened the door and slowly headed inside. Quicksilver slowed enough until he was behind her.

However, his eyes drifted to the room on his left. The door was broken wide open and in splinters on the ground. He took a quick peek inside and saw another dead Nomad splayed on the bed inside, his back and body covered in claw marks and slashes.

The room was a complete wreck, but that was nothing to the hole in the wall.

To his right, the broken wall was hacked open. Much of the wood was dashed open by a large axe, which was imbedded in the wall nearby. Another Nomad was inside the other room, with a cross bolt in between its bulged eyes. The carnage was real, and whoever fought here had fought with the savagery of ten or twenty Equines.

Especially to take down a dozen armed Nomads.

A sudden scream shook through his body, and he turned back down the hallway. The door at the end was cracked open and he spotted Gretchen inside. Her body was frozen in place, but he noticed one of her talons shaking profusely.

“NO! NO!” she screamed in a panic, distraught beyond belief. He had never seen her like this before. Quicksilver erred on the side of caution and slowly made his way to the end of the hall, trepidation filling his heart and an unbridled fear gripping him. He took a shaky breath and pushed the door open, taking a step inside.

The room appeared to be a study, several bookcases on either side of him filled with various books and scrolls littered the shelves. A small table and chair was on his left, with a large book settled on top of the dias. He looked in front of him and saw Gretchen collapsed on the ground. A small drape covered the one end of the room, blocking his view to a private quarter of the study. He took a hesitant step, watching Gretchen place her claws forward. He could her whimpering, something he had never heard of seen her do.

“Gretchen?” he whispered, wondering what had got her so crushed into the ashes of despair.

She sobbed softly, before lifting her head up and the sobs turned to shreking wails. He saw her eyes for a brief moment, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

A sudden wave of fear wrecked his body, and he felt he didn’t want to know what was on the other side of that veil. He could see a body on the ground, and Gretchen was in clear distress and sadness, almost to the point of having a panic attack.

Whoever was behind that drape, lying dead inside… he thought. He steeled his nerves, prepared for the worst and lifted a hoof, brushing the drape away to reveal whoever was on the other side.

Quicksilver’s heart stopped, unprepared for what he saw.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened when he pushed away the veil, and a deep pain surged within his heart. The room seemed to suck all the air in, and there was a reason why. He saw a familiar sword and a battle worn armor with the Gryphon claw upon it and a purple cloak the golden trim that was laid next to a table. On the floor, right on the body, he saw a medallion with the sigil of the Gryphon claw laid around the old Gryphon’s neck. A small crossbow bolt was embedded in the right side of his temple. Dry blood had pooled upon the floor.

Falke Dugalle Quill, General of the Gryphon Empire, was dead.

Author's Note

Hello Everyone. Been a bit I know, but I do have some news. I'm still busy with school and the latest chapters that I have are in the editing process. I wanted to do more for this chapter, including adding another picture, but the picture, which if you have already finished reading the end, would have been heartbreaking.

Besides that, I really felt this was ready with what it has.

Artwork made by Margony. She has fantastic art so do go check her out.

Letters of a General

“Dead… He’s dead,” Quicksilver muttered, seeing the lifeless body before him. Gretchen was wracked with utter grief, her mouth hung open and wailing out as she hovered over the lifeless body. A rustic smell hung in the air that was bitter to the nose. The single light in this part of the room was from a small window which was slightly open and a patch of snow had accumulated on the windowsill. He moved closer to the body, taking in the sight of the general’s body, but mindful of Gretchen if she did something rash. Once close enough, he examined the wounds on the old general.

General Quill bore multiple cuts across his chest and body, most of them covered in half-made bandages. His body was bruised and beaten, with traces of chest feathers missing and out of place. A single crossbow bolt, which appeared smaller in size, was lodged deep into his temple, and traces of dried blood trickled down his head. Quicksilver looked downward and saw a single crossbow, which was smaller in size than others he had seen. It was empty of a bolt and Quicksilver wondered if he had fought to the last before finally being killed by the Nomads.

He backed away to examine the room, all the while Gretchen continued to sob uncontrollably. There was a large desk made of oak that settled in the middle back of the room. Multiple papers were scattered about the table and ground, some covered in blood. A broken chair with intricate design of gryphons embedded deep into the wood was nearby, one of its legs broken and scattered on the floor. There were also multiple candles, all of which were burned out or had little wax remaining.

“Why? This couldn’t happen,” Gretchen’s sobbed, her lower beak quivering. “You had plans, backups, ways of escape! How could you not be prepared!?” she said, her voice trembling with every word. She hovered her head over his body, and Quicksilver felt his heart ache from watching her tears flow down her cheeks. “ You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t die like this! You can’t just leave us! You promised, Uncle. You promised we will all be together!”

Quicksilver grimaced at the pain she was feeling. He watched her talons raised to her face and continued to cry into them. He lifted a hoof towards her and spoke in a soft voice.

It was a voice that she needed to hear.

“Gretchen, it’s okay,” he said, his words slow yet calm.

Gretchen turned to him, her eyes filled with despair and anger. He didn’t relent and opened his hooves to her. “It’s alright. C'mere,” he said gently, still open-hoofed to her.

Seconds ticked by in silence, Gretchen still sniffling and tears running freely down her cheeks. Then, with a heavy sob, Gretchen moved forward to wrap her talons around his body. Quicksilver closed his hooves around her, while Gretchen sobbed into his coat. She remained there for a time, giving off small hiccups every time she sniveled. He remained steadfast at her side, rubbing a hoof onto her back to try and ease her.

“You're okay, Gretchen. Let it out,” Quicksilver replied, rubbing the edge of her feathers and fur. He felt his coat getting wet from the stream of tears while she bobbed her head onto his shoulder.

“Dammit… Dammit why...” Gretchen said, slowly recomposing herself. She rubbed into his shoulder, still sobbing in between each word. “How could this happen? What Nomad would order this, and do such a thing to him?”

Quicksilver had no answer, only holding her closer and remaining in painful silence while she grieved.

After another minute of holding each other in comfort, Gretchen slowly removed herself, rubbing the tears out of her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I look quite pathetic right now,” she said, sniffling while she tried in vain to stop the flow of tears.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. We could not have known what had happened here,” he said, trying his best to reassure her. Gretchen looked back at the body of her uncle and shuddered once before lowering her head. She remained there for a moment before lowering her talons around General Quill’s body. She then pulled him into a hug, holding onto him in a tender embrace. She continued to sob, but more lightly as she held his body close to her.

There has to be a reason how he ended up dead, Quicksilver thought, looking about the room. His eyes drew to the table and the multiple papers and books dashed across its surface, along with a tall Prench wine bottle, long emptied of it’s contents. He moved forward and placed a hoof onto the table, feeling the smooth oak underneath. He then began to search through the stacks of papers, hoping to find any note from the general.

It was a long shot at best, but he had to try.

He started with most of the papers, skimming through them. He mostly found compiled notes and military stratagems that were done in the early years of the war. Though they were interesting, he had to skip past them. After searching through the last of the papers and settling them all into a shambled pile, his eyes traced over to a large book that laid closed near the table’s edge. He reached out a hoof until he grabbed the large tome, but paused when he spotted a square object sitting next to it. It appeared to be a small music box.

He had only seen a few hoofful of these music boxes, yet he never would linger on them for long before going off on duty. Seeing one up close and of Gryphon design made him all the more curious. He could see the small, intricate details within the box, the small nubs upon the drum and the keys that allowed it to play. He brought the two over and examined them both. The tome was a bit heavy but not so worse for wear, yet his attention was focused on the music box.

It was beautiful in its design, a wild field surround on all sides. When he moved the top to close it, it showed an elegant Gryphon striding across the field. It was finely set and he wondered what sort of music it played. Wanting to look into it later, his attention was brought back onto the tome in front of him.

What really caught his eye was its design on the front, showing the same Gryphon talon as the medallion. He saw a few old blood stains upon the edges of the book, but regardless it appeared in a good condition. He began to delve into what was inside.

“I never thought I’d write in any books over my lifetime, but over my long military campaign for the Gryphon Empire, I guess it’d be wise to take up my thoughts and place it in this journal,” the first lines wrote within the book. Quicksilver blinked and his breath caught in his throat.

“This is his journal,” Quicksilver said, astonished, flipping through the pages like an eager child with a new toy.

“What?” Gretchen mumbled through tears, casting her gaze slightly up him.

“This is your uncle’s journal. Maybe there is something in here that will explain what happened.”

“It won’t matter.” Gretchen said, almost bitterly. Quicksilver paused and turned to Gretchen. She still held General Quill in her arms, yet the sadness from earlier had dissipated somewhat. When he didn’t reply to her she continued on, “This crossbolt in his head. He killed himself, Fletching. Taking your own life is the most dishonorable thing among our kind. It brings disgrace to our house and among the family, being marked for years for the cowardly act,” she explained.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened, and he looked down to the body of the old general.

He took his own life? No, there must be a reason if that were to happen, he thought before shaking his head at her.

“There has to be more to it than that. All of those Nomads out there were not killed off because your uncle took his own life. There has to be a reason.” He suggested to the book and Gretchen shook her head.

“You know nothing, Fletching. You can’t understand,” she explained, lowering her head down and hovering just over her uncle’s head. Quicksilver furrowed his brow and turned back to the journal, searching through its contents. It was true he didn’t know the in-depth nature and traditions of the Gryphon society. However, he was certainly going to find out how this happened.

He delved into the journal, page after page he scanned with each blink of an eye. He would pause at times to read a quick entry or two about his life. They dated by many years, possibly close to the beginning of the war or even further, but there was one thing that was important. Quicksilver was sitting on a treasure trove of knowledge, reading the words that the late general had written. He spoke of days that he served in the armed forces, about his victories and small defeats. One in particular was the Battle of Silver Road, which he wished he would have to read at a later date. There were also happy entries that he had to skim over and would need to make a mental note in reading them.

There had to be some great moments in his life that he must have cherished.

There was not only the battles he fought and discussed, but he mentioned the comparisons between Equestria and their culture. There were similarities when it came to their different tribes between Equines and Gryphons. There was also how the ruled by a leader, the only difference being that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were shared monarchs, while the Gryphons were lead by an emperor or king. Ever since King Solaris and his wife Queen Selena, they had remained a dutiful part of Equestria that made them into a monarchy from their tribal past and united Equestria into one nation. He even read here and there about the Gryphon culture within the book, and Quicksilver took a small gander at how the first born son of any Gryphon household must be of age when called upon by the Gryphon Empire in service.

He wondered how Franz Stormcloud- No, General Quill’s son, would have thought when his father did not wish for him to serve.

Eventually, Quicksilver would push past the older entries and continue to read within.

“C,mon, there has got to be something in here,” he muttered, flipping page after page of older entries into something that was new, if not recent.

He stopped when he noticed the ink within didn’t look as faded as the other entries. He looked back to the previous pages and to where his hoof was placed, and found that the ink was new. He looked at the date of the entry and found that it was roughly a month old.

Almost as long as he has been a prisoner.

Taking a steady breath, he began reading the entry within.

Entry Number 495
Early Winter, Year 766 Gregor Calendar

“It has been many moons since I last wrote in this old book. Reading back on my old works has caused me to reflect at times. How my life has gone from one battle to another. More figuratively then one may imagine. Through turbulent at times my life has been, I find a small measure of peace then when I think of my family. Though they may be far away, I know that they live in my heart at all times.

My only niece and nephew are safe in the fort in High Talon Pass, protected and far from the flung reaches of the warfront. Prancy has been breached and from what I have learned the defenders are trying to hold out on the outer ramparts. No doubt they would be dragging this out, fighting house to house in a desperate attempt to hold the city. I’ve made the order to make the full retreat from Prancy and petitioned our ‘Sovereign Lord’ Bronzeclaw to order a retreat and save many of the young sons of our nation. I had hoped that he will see reason.”

The entry stopped and Quicksilver turned to the next. Gretchen remained silent while he continued to read.

“The plan fell through. My plea for the retreat fell on deaf ears to the ignorant king. More of his ardent advisors, most of them made up of Nomad councillors, had rejected my pleas. I had no choice but to act on my own accord. I went to speak with the Magistrates and Noble Houses to tell of what has befallen Prancy. I have sent a letter to the leader of the army within Prancy to begin the retreat, in hopes in saving our sons from a deadly fate.

I doubt my letter will get through, but I hope that by some chance they will respect the order and head home.

Quicksilver sat on his haunches as he became immersed in the book. He began to ponder what instigated the fight within the Gryphonstone. He let his mind wander while he continued to read through the next entry.

Entry Number 496
Mid Winter, Year 766, A few weeks after the letter was sent,

“My worst fears have come to fruition. I’ve been given no reply from Prancy, and I will be forced to move my troops to the front lines. I would not sacrifice my troops for a lost cause, and I outright refused to commit my troops to a losing battle. Bronzeclaw was furious beyond any reason. He slandered me of betraying the Empire and that I would be abandoning the cause and all of the young Gryphons within the city. It already has become a forsaken place, and our young sons were dying in droves for a lost cause. I told him as such and that we must bring our sons home or the next generation will be lost and far fewer.

By Gregor I’ve never seen him angrier before. He broke a table and chairs in outburst, and I could see the veins on his face would bulge from every utterance. He lashed at me, cursed my name, and continued to shout at me like a blashmere for his grand crusade. His pride of a grand king was taking its toll, and the madness to win at all costs would drive others away from him. He dismissed me out of the hall, and I left with my Storm Claw Brigade.

However, there was one curse that he uttered that gave me pause and dread. He shouted out my name, the words echoing inside those halls to forever be branded upon my back like a scar. He yelled to me that he hopes that my son, who still was in Prancy, will suffer a traitor's fate before my time would come. I shot him a glare that, in my mind, wanted nothing more then to challenge him and be rid of his evil.

There was no doubt in my mind there will be repercussions for standing up against his rein and I had no choice but to walk away from him. The life of my son and the soldiers under me were far too important than the king’s ambitions.”

Quicksilver paused from his reading. He was curious as to the implications of what King Bronzeclaw might have done if he was challenged by General Quill, what kind of outcome if the king was taken out and what turn would have come for the entire war. He had to leave such ponderings aside and continued to read the next entry within.

There was a small earmark detailing the travel between the flight of Gryphonstone and arriving in the mountains. There was an emphasis in detailing the landscape and how they traversed the land. As much as he wanted to continue, it didn’t provide much detail that he wanted to hear.

He finished reading the entry and began reading the next one aloud.

Entry Number 498
Mid Winter, Year 767, Few weeks after leaving Gryphonstone,

I arrived at the fort with impeccable timing. I was greeted warmly today by both my niece and nephew. Gretchen was asking me many questions about my life in Gryphonstone and Ebon was relieved to see me safe and sound. I couldn't have asked for better family then those who care for me and for others. I would have to tell them later about what is truly happening back in Gryphonstone, but I would have to tell them later.

I have to pause, I have a guest coming in.

I was pleasantly surprised to meet an Equine in our midst today. The youth’s name was Quicksilver and was quite different than most other Equines I’ve met. When we first spoke he was very enthusiastic, knowing me by my deeds and actions that have been performed in my life. It doesn't take me by surprise that the youngling was so knowledgeable of my previous endeavors. I sometimes lectured my kindred on the importance of our past, and yet a Pegasus knew more about me then some unenlightened Fletchlings. It’s almost laughable to me now that I never taught more Gryphons about our past and our cultures, to be carried on after my time has come.

History is sacred and neglected thing indeed. The greatest tales ever told in our day age, while future generations forget their forefathers and the importance they have upon their lives.

Quicksilver, the Equine named, told much of his painful past. He has shared his tender experience that he endured during the whole war. It brought him up and consumed most of his life without pausing to give any respite or peace. It reminded much of my niece and nephew and their upbringing.

Especially Gretchen.

I will write more on this another time. My family wants to know of my trip from Gryphonstone.

Quicksilver paused and looked over to Gretchen, who looked a little surprised at what he had read. Gretchen looked away as if ashamed. Quicksilver wondered what she had endured in her past. The words from Saint Gregor filled his head, of Gretchen having a similar experience and heartache.

He dreaded to know what else she had to go through.

He turned the next page and began reading the next entry.

Entry Number 499
Mid Winter, 767, the day of mourning…

“The garrison…. was heartbroken.

Many of our kin that went on the hunt have come back maimed and barely alive, some of our fallen riddled with scars and deep wounds. The survivors described the attack as a brutal offensive, ambushed from all sides by charging and wailing creatures. They gored them with their sharp horns and attacked with reckless abandon. I fear some of the younger Gryphons are scarred for the remainder of their days for seeing such brutality.

I fear the warbands that they have mentioned must be dealt with or they will continue to raid the lands of both our nations.

Ebon was excellent in handling the situation. He was calm throughout the storm of chaos that surrounded us. While I dealt with my share of aid to the survivors, I saw him among his fellow brethren. He kept balance and a strong determination that lead to keeping every Gryphon organized and managing to get the situation under control. I looked on, with pride, that such a young blood as him has turned into a fine leader.

His father would be proud of such talents and strengths.

Gretchen was among the Gryphons tending to the wounded, Gregor bless her. She was quite angry with me when I explained to her about what has befallen the people of Gryphonstone and how the Nobles and Magistrates have been defying against King Bronzeclaw’s rule, almost on the cusp of rebellion. She was vehemently against me when I suggested that conflict between the ruling houses and Bronzeclaw could be unavoidable. She left bitterly upset over the revelation and that our people’s pride is what is tearing our society apart.

I can’t blame her for her emotional state. I too wish for this bitter war to end peacefully.

When I saw that she was out there amongst the wounded and dying, her graceful touch and soothing words helped many in their hour of need. She reminded me of her mother and how she too put other lives first before her own. I loved that about her and how it shows in her daughter when she is helping others.

Oh Freya, I miss you. You don’t know how much your children have grown.

I have to end this short. My guards have need of me.

Quicksilver paused, blinking a few times and trying to get his bearings.

He mentioned the name Freya and that pique his interest. Was she important to both Gretchen and Ebon? The amount of details from the journal was staggering, and he wondered what other details lied within.

He turned his attention to Gretchen, wondering if she had anything to say over what he had read.

Gretchen was silent, still holding the lifeless body of the General. Her eyes were open and a few tears were present, but not freely flowing from before. She was most likely lost in thought over what he had read. He didn’t raise any question to her, and instead continued to read the book, even as the many minutes ticked by from each paragraph he transcribed.

Entry Number 501
Mid Winter… Several days after the massacre…

“Everything's happening so fast that I dare say it feels like a fevered dream.

I was in the middle of a intriguing conversation with Quicksilver when a messenger came from one of my subordinates. King Bronzeclaw has summoned the army and we have all made our way out here on the edges of the High Talons Mountains. The dishonorable cunt, gathering us all for some grand crusade in reclaiming Prancy. With an army filled with youngbloods, many barely out of training, with many more having not even finished.

What has our world come to? When we send our young sons to fight for corrupt king.

As I write about my dealings in the King’s Army, I wonder what has befallen my niece at the encampment. I left Felix to watch over her, but I know that Sharp Beak was in command of the garrison. I worry for her safety and that she will be taken advantage of. But I am certain, with a humble heart, that she will be in capable talons. Along with a certain Equine.

I kept thinking back to our conversation with Quicksilver. He was certainly curious if not inquisitive about my people’s customs. I find it fitting to advise him about what makes us unified and whole. The Strength of Heart, The Strength of Body, and The Strength of Mind. This saying is what makes us stand unified against any threat. To put oneself above all others. This is what I told him, and I hope to give him a view into a culture and why our society exists the way it does.

I had hoped to delve much further into our customs and explain more about of what makes us act like true Gryphon’s. However, I am stuck here in this encampment, with a mad king ready to march to Prancy.

There are others who see my view, and I have convinced them to try and persuade the king to reconsider his senseless campaign. There are parts I do not wish to transcribe over what he has already done, but I will, at the very least, transcribe this. I now fear more for the youth in this army and that of my Brigade.

Much sacrifice will be made when myself and my supporters confront the King.

Quicksilver blinked and took a moment to rub his eyes, clearing the dust that were stuck in his ducts. He looked upon the next set of entries and silently read the next details on his own. He found them detailing the King's reaction. Quicksilver recalled the very vivid details that he gave to him when they had met the second time. The King ordering every tenth Gryphon under each of the officers to be killed, and the Razor Claw Brigade’s sacrifice in appeasing the King. General Quill even mentioned the names of the twenty soldiers that were brutally murdered to keep everyone in line.

The amount of struggle, the amount of pain... Quicksilver could not help but feel sorry for the General. He knew from what he had heard from his own mouth. But now? Reading in vivid detail of every suffering Gryphon, there was no amount of console or comfort that would have ease such a troubled heart.

King Bronzeclaw was truly a savage monster.

“Why did you stop reading?” Gretchen spoke next to him and he flinched from her words. He turned and found that she was standing by his side, looking over the book with him. He blinked once before taking a calm breath.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought,” he replied. Gretchen nodded, her expression still downcast while she looked into the book.

“Can you continue, please?” she asked softly, her eyes lingering upon the book. Quicksilver nodded, his own curiosity wanting to find out the truth of the General's demise. He turned to the book and flipped the page, reading the next entry within. Quicksilver noticed the next page had many wrinkled spots.

Entry Number 502
Mid Winter… My return…

“I have no words. I have no words to describe my loss. My pain, my heart ever breaking.

My son… my Red Tails, my little Franz… is dead.

I had arrived with what remains of my Razor Claw Brigade and those who had followed me willingly away from the Mad King's quest. It was where I saw Sharp Beak having beaten Quicksilver within a inch of his life. The minotaur leader, from what I was told, had put a stop to Sharp Beak‘s assault. It was then after that when Quicksilver had began spouting off names of all the Gryphons that Sharp Beak has put down. When they mentioned Franz, when they mentioned my boy, I had nearly frozen on the spot. I had to force myself not to lunge at that murdering cutthroat and tear his throat out. I ordered him to be arrested along with any supporters.

After the crowds had dispersed, I went to the still form of Quicksilver, being carried lifelessly in the minotaur’s arms. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so many questions that plagued my mind the moment his name was uttered. However, he needed much medical attention, for his wings were dangerously prostrate and the bleeding from his wounds needed tending to.

Gregor bless him for making it this long.

Felix, despite his own grievous wounds, made it his duty to heal Quicksilver. He informed me he had not been able to eat much at all the week I was gone and that he had spent six hours, beating the record mind you, holding up the block of wood over his wings. He had endured so much, took all punishment cast on him, and he still stood his ground. He even came to Gretchen’s aid when she was being punished for tending to him.

I can’t stop crying… I held it in for so long since I arrived, then once I was finally alone I wept as a newborn babe in my tent. I was not there for my own kin, and Quicksilver's kindness and charity was far more than what we have given him. Even when he didn’t know he had revealed that my son has been murdered and that I will know of his fate. My heart burns in hatred for his murderer, but now I’m filled with such sorrow. I somehow feel responsible for Quicksilver and for what has been given unto him. Protecting the family is far more important in any conflict, and that is something I have failed to do.

I should have been there, not distracted by the King’s mad plan, when my own family was being tormented and threatened. Ebon, Deadeye, Gretchen…. They are all the family that I have left. If I lost them now, I know not what I would do.

I can’t write anymore this night. If I do, this paper will be ineligible from my tears.

Gretchen sniveled somewhat, and Quicksilver turned to see her wiping her arm across her face, brushing away the fresh tears that had gathered. Quicksilver had no idea how much he had done for General Quill and his family. A feeling of guilt rushed inside him from reading the last few verses, and it weighed down over his heart. He can only imagine what the General’s last moments were. What he could be thinking, what caused him to be driven to suicide.

He looked into the next entry and found only the entry number. No words were written within, only stained and wrinkled paper.

He could only guess that he couldn’t write any more.

Sucking up his nerves, he delved further into the book. Seeing how few pages there were, he was nearing the end.

Entry Number 504
Mid Winter, the Night after the Coup…

I was taken aback by the deviousness of Sharp Beak and his ilk. While most of us were asleep, he had somehow managed to escape with his fellow Nomads and attempted to silence all those who followed me. Many of the captains who came with me have been deemed traitors and were executed without mercy, along with even the few Nomads who saw reason.

A coward’s way to the very end, and I curse him for what he has done.

I was held for a number of hours within the newly built barracks and had to wait out the ongoing coup. However, I could hear the fighting take place outside and the arrival of my brigade was able to turn the tide. Sensing the danger, the other, younger Nomads were conflicted in what they should do. I threw my voice of reason and convinced them to surrender their arms and to go out and explain that they were brought into this by their superiors. One of the elder Nomads scoffed at my suggestion and even threatened to kill me then and there. I calmly stated that he was making a mistake, and that he was going to die if he pointed his sword at me. Though he didn't know it, I had chipped away at the ropes around my wrists.

The Nomad scoffed at my claim and he indeed shoved his sword at me. I was quicker when he failed to check on my bindings. I rose and gave a firm kick into his midsection, forcing him to double over. His sword arm slipped out of his grasp and I grabbed the blade before it could hit the ground. Before the oaf could see what happened, I drove the sword down on top of his skull, the blade going several inches deep before I removed it and decapitated him moments later.

I could still see the looks on the youth’s faces at what I was able to do, the lifeless form of the elder Nomad dropping to the floor while I still stood. They must have imagined that I was secretly some grand warrior from a bygone age. Though it would be to the amount of tedious training that I had received throughout my life. I could have humored them and said something grand to them. However, I dropped the sword in front of them and once again asked them to surrender peacefully.

They were smart lads. They took the offer without a second thought.

After securing the outpost and the coup dealt with, we had to survey the damage. Five of the officers out of the twenty were still alive. Over two hundred Gryphons had been killed, the majority being the Nomads that were stationed here. To make matters worse was that Sharp Beak had escaped with his cohort of soldiers that numbeered over a hundred or more. They could be anywhere at this point, and I fear they will make an attempt on my life or that of my family.

Another matter that unsettled my nephew was that Gretchen was spirited away by Quicksilver.

I could see the frustration and anger spilling from him. He wanted her back, to be safe. Deadeye and Captain Buck Wing tried to convince that he was not responsible for such a thing, yet he was not deterred. I was not convinced, that Quicksilver was responsible for what he has done; rather the opposite, in fact. I allayed his fears and reminded him why blind hatred was leading him, and he quickly headed my call.

Sometimes a calming voice can soothe a raging storm.

He still worried over Gretchen, hoping that she was somehow okay. I explained to him that she will be in the good hooves of Quicksilver. He was hardly appeased by my answer, but in these times, it was hard to accept such facts. Quicksilver, I believed, was not the kind of Equine to do her harm.

After discussing our plans and saying my farewells to my nephew, I said that I would pay a visit to our ‘dear’ King. However, I was stopped by Felix, who had the most urgent matter to commune with me. At first I believed it had to do with the King or the renegade Nomads. instead, I was befuddled by what he had mentioned. Sharp Beak had tried to make a claim on Gretchen and he almost succeeded were it not for Quicksilver’s intervention.

Yet, that’s just it. Quicksilver, the Equine, doesn't understand what he had done. That simple rule of engagement between those two.

It’s almost laughable. If he knew what he had done, he would probably be regretting it. A Gryphon custom going back centuries, since the founding of the three tribes. Sharp Beak was doing just what he wanted in every traditional Gryphon custom. Quicksilver had cut in the way he did and taking her away, the same as our custom. If he lets her go, then this whole matter will be for naught and that will be the end of it. But if she doesn't return…

Well, at least I wouldn’t be kindred to that scum, not in my lifetime.

I have to say my farewells soon. I will have many miles ahead of me. I will travel alone to meet with the King. No doubt my guards will be displeased by this action, but their services are needed here with Ebon. I’d rather hate for them to suffer any fate that has befallen my comrades.

Maybe it wouldn't’ hurt to visit my old cabin.

What is this gryphon custom that they keep telling about? he thought, scratching the back of his head with his hoof, being perplexed at the last part of the paragraph. There was mention of a custom, one that he didn’t know about, and it bothered him to no end. Engagement? Kindred? Was he meaning they shared some view or opinion that he thought highly of? But what did it mean for Gretchen? Felix was vehemently speaking of such things before he had left, and Quicksilver couldn’t make much sense as to what he was implying.

“Gretchen? Do you know what he was talking about?” Quicksilver asked, turning to meet her. He became dumbfounded by the way that she looked. Gretchen was still, her normal white plumage of her cheeks burning a bright red. Her stoic eyes were wide, and she almost appeared shaken.

“Gretchen? Are you alright?” he asked, his face showing much concern and confusion. She turned to him as if startled, then quickly turned her head away from him.

“It’s not important! Just read the next entry!” she said rather loudly, her feathers flustered out. He blinked in surprise by her demeanor, but decided to move on.

He didn’t want to understand what Gryphon custom they were referring to. He believed it would be nothing but a pain to understand.

Quicksilver turned the next page, looking into the next entry. However, he found no entry mark on the next words. He grumbled to himself and cast his eyes upon it, flipping the next few pages to find the end of the book. He took a deep breath and observed the last pages. There were some spots that were wrinkled and others covered in some dry blood stains.

“This is it… that last entry,” he muttered, placing a hoof across the page. Gretchen etched closer to him, her earlier apprehension replaced with fear and anxiety. Everything that happened up to this point would finally be revealed.

The last moments of General Falke Dugalle Quill.

Taking a steady breath, Quicksilver read aloud the final entry of the venerable general.

I made a grave mistake.

A slight miscalculation was made… one that has cost me dearly.

Time is against me now… I have to make the most of it.

I’ve bandaged as best I could to slow this wound, but I’m only buying time.

Never believed my final moments would be here.

I arrived at my Cabin mid-afternoon, the old home having been neglected for a number of years now. I wanted to come here because of the old memories that it brought, how our family came to spend our summers here and to enjoy it’s serene peace. I only arrived a mere two hours ago, yet by the time I was here there was already company waiting for me.

The corpulent bastard, Black Talon, was awaiting for me, along with a dozen of his own mad Nomads. He welcomed me with open arms, congratulating me for my arrival and my untimely demise.

I arrived tired and weary from my flight, and they had planned on ending me then and there. Despite that, I was not going down without a proper fight. I drew forth my sword and readied to make my stand upon the mountainside. The Nomads laughed as they surrounded me, saying it was the funniest thing they ever witnessed: a decrepit Gryphon who would stand up to strong and vibrant Nomads. I told them that I would cut through them as a carving of a cake. Their hubris grew ever more, not believing a word I said. I believe I heard one of them call out that there were more than I could handle. I thought it fitting for a fool’s epitaph.

The poor bastards. They did not know what was coming to them.

I lifted my sword weakly, but it was mostly a feint. The first of the Nomads came near me, attempting to render me with his broadsword. I sidestepped his attack and brought my blade in an upward arc. I lacerated his sword arm, the flying appendage landing a few feet away before the stunned crowd. He didn’t even realize that his arm was missing before I turned around and lunged my sword into his back. He let out a harrowing scream before collapsing in the snow. Before the others could react, I was already slashing my blade across the throat of another victim, killing him instantaneously.

Others joined in the battle, and it was fierce and bloody. Within a minute I had already cleared four Nomads onto the field, cutting their bodies and gutting their limbs. I had parried their blows, and countered their strikes, each one made with precision and grace. Though my burst of energy gave the advantage, I was slowing down, and my weary body was already draining me, even after I decapitated my fifth opponent and lobbed off the legs of the sixth. Black Talon hung back, watching the battle ensue, waiting for a perfect time to strike, yet he never came.

Cowardly bastard, he is.

They surrounded me and kept their distance, and tried to parry blows, but I knew I was in a dire situation. I was exhausted and outnumbered, and they would claim me soon enough before I could finish the rest of them.

My only option was solace within my own cabin.

I made a run for it. All haste made towards my own home. As much I didn’t want it to be harmed, I was left with no other option. I broke through my own door and quickly shut behind it. I would be trapped, but at least I could deal them in fewer numbers. An older Nomad lunged himself through the window with reckless abandon, determination plastered on his fanatic face. He lunged his weapon at me, and I quickly grappled with him. We tussled within the living room for a brief moment before I forced him to hit the wooden frame of the home and sent him back at the window. He landed right on top of the broken glass of the window frame, pieces of glass was visible in his neck and chest. His companion hopped on through and clambered over his dying friend, with complete disregard that his very life was choking right before his eyes.

I shoved him back from where he came, his body tumbling back out the window frame, while the next Nomad flew through the window and was ready for me. I fought and defended against my next assailant in the living room. The older Nomad was slower yet he was experienced. I know the clock is ticking on my life, but I couldn't help but admire his patience and tenacity. He was as equally skilled as I was, yet slower than the other attackers.We dueled in the living room, breaking several pieces of ancestral furniture in the process.

The Nomad and I dueled for another thirty seconds within the room before I parried his blade upward and attacked him by spinning my blade across his abdomen. For a moment in time we stared at each other, seeing how the outcome would have been if he was in my position. I saw no malice in his eyes, only a smile of an old warrior who has been defeated and humbled. In a brief thought, I would have considered him a brother in arms. One who would not wanted this fight between us.

It all shattered when a blade was plunged through his back and he was tossed to the ground like refuse. The younger, more aggressive Nomad was indiscriminate when attacking his target. He charged me and rushed me towards the kitchen, knocking over furniture and breaking dishes as our bout ensued. He placed his talons on my neck in an effort to choke me. He nearly succeeded before I grabbed one of the nearby dishes on the kitchen table and smacked it across his face. He fell to the ground clutching at his eyes, yet I did not relent. The broken chair before me made good use for bludgeoning his head until he no longer moved.

By the time I was done they’d already broken down the door, the four Nomads looking fresh and ready to fight.

I took my sword and rushed down the hallway towards the stairs, in some hopes that it will be narrow enough for me to deal with them one by one. It managed to work to my favor and it forced them to come at me slowly up the stairs. I parried each attack that was thrown at me, and I dueled the next incoming attacker. I managed to slip the next Nomad’s blade back into him, and he tumbled down the stairs in a heap. Despite my victories, however, I was nearing the point of exhaustion. Yet, I still kept going, still fighting with my life on the line. After another painful minute of fighting up the stairs, I found the nearest bedroom to defend in.

There were four remaining, four more to defeat.

I waited for them. Waiting to face them in the most glorious death I could imagine. Yet they didn’t come. I waited for what felt like hours, my heart ramming hard in my chest. I could hear them shuffle on the other side and their bloodcurdling breaths, seeking vengeance for the blood of their fallen kin.

Then an axe broke through the wall on my left, splinters being scattered everywhere. The Nomad kept hacking away, a blood lust consuming him as he attacked through the wall. The door in front of me burst open; another Nomad, another life thrusted upon me. I managed to force him in while slamming the door behind, pushing one of the desks in the way to block the door. I even managed to relieve Black Talon of his crossbow by slamming the door on his talons. I could hear him shrill in pain. I fought hard against the Nomad inside the room, and I used my sword, beak and talons to fight him off.

Time was against me. Shunting of the door, the hacking of the wall. I didn’t know how long I would last in these conditions. I managed to subdue and kill my opponent, his body splayed across the bed with gashes and cuts, but I do had my fair share of wounds, some of which encumbered my movement. The Nomad breaking down my wall had broken through, his axe ready to swing at me. Remembering the crossbow, I lunged for the weapon and immediately unloaded the bolt straight into his head. He fell within moments and I was left there, exhaustion overcoming me.

I sat in that room awaiting for my death to come. I had lived a long and hard life, and yet nothing could come of what I was going to face. My own demise, my own destruction. If I was not so eager in leaving my guards behind, the outcome would have been different. Instead, in my hubris, I ended up here, and will no doubt die by the talons of mad Gryphons.

When the door finally broke through, Black Talon was there, gloating in some satisfaction that my death would bring to him. His remaining guard, who looked rather young for his age, stood idle, petrified of me and what I had done. He fully expected that I would rise up and run him down like his companions. I couldn’t do such a thing, my body was already drained. Black Talon looked at me and he mocked me at my pitiful state.

“How pitiful!” he said. “The great and encumbered General has been brought down to his knees.”

I remained silent, watching him gloat in his supposed victory. He took a step forward, but not enough for me to lunge my weapon into his gutless hide. Even if I could do such a thing, I could no longer fake my own exhaustion. He watched me with careful calculating eyes, holding onto his bruised talons from when I slammed them into the door. I waited for any further insult, another spiteful rhetoric that he would give onto me. Instead, he kept his hateful glare upon me.

“I envy you,” he said to me. “I really do.”

I asked him ‘Why?’ He merely smiled, happily chuckling to himself while wiping away some imaginary food that was stuck on his jowls. He sneered at me and lowered until he and I stared each other at the same level.

“Your death will be so fleeting. The great General, dying in some foreign land while the Gryphon empire continues on.”

I outright ignored him and looked away. He and like minded Nomads were all mad for their divine sense of being the strongest race in the land. However, his next words chilled me to the very core, ones that will haunt me for my remaining hours.

“We hoped you stayed alive long enough for us to retake Prancy and destroy your petty resistance back at the capital.”

Those words, they still haunt me even now.

I looked to him and kept my gaze on him like a hawk. Black Talon merely chuckled from my expression, and he explained to me what has happened in Gryphonstone.

“You don’t know?” he said in a mocking tone. “Your Magistrates and the Nobles that have turned their backs on the true King and have seized the castle, declaring it to be free of our control. This ‘insurrection’ will not sit idle with the King. He will no doubt finish claiming that festering backwater of a city and go back to reclaim his rightful if not ancestral home!”

I was beyond shock, if not elated by the news. The Magistrates, the Governors, all those that had defected and hated King Bronzeclaw have now begun their coup. After all these years of war, I should have been happy. To imagine that the Noble Houses and Magistrates would broker a peace with Equestria and end this long bloody war that has cost both sides far too many lives. To drink and partake the cup of peace that has slipped through our grasp for far too long, due to hawkish leaders and warmongers.

It’s a dream I wished to have seen with my own eyes.

“It’s too bad we have to let you die here,” he continued. “Though pathetic it may be, it is the King’s will that you must be silenced.” He snapped his talons and directed his final minion forward. The young Gryphon was unsettled as he approached me. The youth was not keen on getting too close, and I could see him shake from the amount of pressure put on him. I looked up into his eyes, and there was fear present within them. A part of me wished he wasn't here and another wished he not be the one to do the deed. Yet, as he drew his blade upward, the blade shaking in his talons, I could see he didn’t want to this. Something was holding him back and I could only guess as to one thing.

He didn’t want to kill me.

“You bloody idiot, just do it already!” Black Talon shouted at the young blood. The young Gryphon wouldn’t move, let alone finish me. Black Talon was impatient and he struck the youth down while seizing his weapon.

“I’ll do it myself!” He said, taking the blade and swiping at me.

I only felt a slight cut onto my left arm.

I looked to Black Talon and he swung the blade and lashed it out onto the younger Gryphon. I watched as he repeatedly sliced at him and indiscreetly hacking at his body. In rage and indescribable anger, he attacked him without mercy. The youth pleaded and screamed, being torn asunder by Black Talon’s relentless assault. The young blood collapsed, barely alive by his savagery. When he finally stopped, Black Talon looked down at me with such hatred and envy, the kind that shows his pride was at stake. He smiled viciously.

“This was meant to be a simple task,” he said, wiping the blood off the youngblood’s body, the latter whimpering in utmost pain. Black Talon lowered himself, dropping the blade and looking at me with a calculating gaze. “At least with the poison running through your veins you will die a slow and painful death.”

My heart froze. I looked down to my fresh wound and I saw a notable difference compared to my other wounds. There was a green substance that was spilling from the cut, and as I pressed my talon there I could feel my veins bulging from within. Black Talon laughed at my predicament, watching me struggle with the fact that I was poisoned and my life was slowly draining away.

“That’s venom from the cave snakes in our mountain range,” Black Talon said. “Quite deadly without a proper antidote. Though, not my sort of style,” he explained, chuckling to himself to his victory. “Your face shows such anguish, such defeat, for the old fool you are. The poison will course through your body, causing you to spasm out and feel nauseated. Pain will consume you and your heart will speed up, pushing the envenomed blood in your body to the brink of death, until everything shuts down and you will be silent as the grave. However, your death will be nothing compared to what we will do to the rest of your family.”

It was in my moment of demise that I looked up to him with that sinister yet malicious smile. It still haunts me now, that damned Gryphon’s face.

“You didn’t know? Maybe I’ll elevate your blood a little if I indulge you,” he continued mockingly, backing up so that he stood tall over me. “Your family has been branded traitors to the state, for ordering the purging and total destruction of the City of Prancy.”

My eyes widened and I felt my heart had skipped a beat.

“It’s all fake of course,” he explained to me. “But we managed to make near-perfect duplicates of your own writing that whoever shall read it will know it was from you. Once we’re done with Prancy, we’ll come back for you and present them your head, and that of your nephew. Your 'Beloved' niece might be spared, once my leader has found her alive at least, but her fate will be very tragic indeed.” He opened his wings and gestured out like the flaunt cretin that he is.

“She will be nothing but a courtesan. Her wings will be clipped, her talons declawed, and her body ravaged. She will bear his young and that is all that she will ever be to my leader. Nothing but a degenerate and lowborn Noble, that will no longer take to the skies and be viewed as second rate filth!” he boasted and laughed, enjoying in his mirth while looking down on me.

He then smiled and turned his attention to his remaining guard, the youth who was already looking on death’s door. He seized him by the neck and the youth gasped out for air. He then began dragging the poor youth out of the room, but not before stopping to say his final spiteful words towards me.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you. Now be an old bastard and die. It would be most convenient that you died peacefully in your sleep.” he uttered, half mocking and half jostling in laughter while he dragged the youth outside, the latter struggling in his grip. It was soon after that I heard the youth’s body dragged down the stairs and towards the door, and it was only then that I could no longer hear them that I soon found myself alone.

But all I felt in my heart was rage.

My family, my kin. They would be sacrificed as pawns to fulfill their twisted schemes. To be framed for a crime that we did not commit. That is abhorrent and treacherous, even for Black Talon and his minions.

Or even Sharp Beak for that matter.

I wasn’t sure if the coup in Gryphonstone was successful, or if the King would have realized this and demanded my head to break their spirits. Whatever the case may be, the king framing me over the destruction of Prancy was not my doing, nor will it ever be. I knew I commanded the forces, but it was I who gave them direct orders to either surrender their arms or to give up the city entirely. I would never commit mass genocide against innocents, and if I was given that order to do so I would outright refused.

After being left alone for what felt like hours, I finally crawled to the study, taking my sword and armor off and leaving them to the side. I could still feel the poison running through me, but I believed I had mere hours or more before the venom would render my body and my life be taken away. I had taken up my old journal and writing my last experiences that I had witnessed. I know it seemed ridiculous, my last moments writing, but I felt it was right.

Black Talon was long gone, and I could only hear the chill wind outside my cabin and a deep pity for the young blood claimed by his claws. I now write in this book the last few words before my final hours come.

To those who find this, or those who happen to read this journal of mine, know that I am innocent of all charges placed against me or my kin. Whatever foul trickery or falsification that was placed on my name and kin, it is nothing but lies and deceit. If there was any form of personal messages or any orders given by me, there would be a personal sigil that would be stamped onto the end of the document, my medallion, which will render any counterfeit to be useless.

This will prove my innocence and of any wrongdoing that has befallen me or my kin.

Now that I think of it…. I feel at a loss of what I should say next. There is so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted them to see. Maybe if I spend more time with them, if I could teach them more of our family’s history, and how important it is to us all. I’ve spent so long in the field of battle that I have neglected to be with them more. I’m certain they will see this war over before me.

I wish I could be with them now.

I can still feel the poison in me, it burns throughout my body. I don’t have much time in this world. I’ve lived a proud life, one that has made me feel both humble and ashamed. Even now, at the very end, I still feel myself stirring to take up arms and chase after them. My pride would have claimed me if I took its charge and grant them the satisfaction of my death. But I will not let my enemies have this victory, even when my body rage’s to give chase.

I would take my own life before this night is done.

Before I do deny them this, there is but one more task I must fulfill. One that I have truly neglected to do.

I’ll be finishing my old Prench wine that I wanted to drink for so long. I do hope that my last deed will be worth it.

Worth it to her.

My Amore.

Admittedly, I’m glad that I’ll be dying in my home. I always wished to be buried where I may overlook the mountains below. They were always….a beautiful sight to behold.

This is the last entry, of General Falke Dugalle Quill.

And my son, my precious Red Tails,

Your father will be with you soon.

Quicksilver blinked after reading off the last few lines. He shuddered for a moment, wondering how long he had been standing there and reading the book. He scanned the last few words of the entry, and could see that it was covered in dry blood and crinkled tears. He wondered what the old General meant by who Amore was. He looked about the table, wondering what he had missed.

“That can’t be it,” he muttered, closing the journal and settling onto the table. His eyes scanned the table, seeing the the same scattered old papers and books, along with a box that held the shape of the small crossbow with five bolts on the side. One of them was missing from its spot. He noticed Gretchen pick up the small music box. She had been awfully quiet during the time he was reading the journal and she never said a word. She had a solemn expression, but it was laced with sadness and grief. Without a word, she grabbed her uncle’s fallen sword and walked out of the room with the music box in her talons.

“Gretchen?” he called out. She gave no reply, only pushing the door open and walking down the hall. He heard a door open and close in the hallway and silence soon remained. He turned his attention back to the tome and then to the still form of General Quill.

“What do you mean by task? What were you trying to do?” he said, bending down to inspect the wounds on the old General’s body. The wounds were dry and his body appeared bruised in several places. He looked at the General’s face, seeing his eyes closed in what looked to be a peaceful slumber.

He kept his eyes on him a moment longer and went to stand. However, he noticed a fallen quill pen on the ground, with some ink splattered on the floor. He guessed it had fallen on the ground the moment General Quill took his life. He picked it up, inspecting the small details of the feather.

He then looked around him at all the papers that remained scattered on the floor. They only spoke of old documents and transcripts, and he placed them on top of the table.

He only stopped when he spotted a piece that was hidden underneath the table.

He reached out, plucking the paper from the confines under the table, and bringing it up to the light. He examined the page and instantly saw the blood stains that were on the corner’s edge. Like the the ends of the journal, it was also curled and deformed, likely getting wet from the blood and tears. His eyes traced down to the bottom of the paper, and his eyes widened that there was a small medallion shape insignia on the parchment.

This has to be it! Quicksilver thought, and reading the first line of the paper.

It read, “Dearest Athena” upon the first words.

He paused his reading and looked towards the door, where Gretchen had left. He heard a strange bell-like sound, emanating from the other room. It was slow at first, the small individual studs striking on tiny keys. The music sounded sad, the different chords slow to every strike it made. He waited there for a minute, hearing the small music finish. He looked back down to the paper and read the first line again.

She had to read this with him. She had to know there was one more thing he had left behind. And with that, Quicksilver stood up and with parchment in hoof went back down the hallway.

He didn’t have to go far when the door on his left was opened slightly. He slowed down and cleared his throat to speak up to her.

“Gretchen. I found something else. I think you may want to hear it.” he said. He waited for a reply, yet she didn’t raise her voice to him, nor even reply.

She was completely silent.

“Gretchen?” he asked once more. An uncertainty gripping his heart, he pushed the door open to see her. He found her curled up on a bed in the middle of the room. He breathed a sigh of relief, his heart easing at seeing her. He took a step inside the room, examining it and the contents within.

The room was spacious, enough to possibly place two beds in. Gretchen was sitting on a bed that was right in front of him, where a small brick fireplace was settled as well. On the left of the wall was a small bundle of firewood settled in a neat stack, while several furniture such as a chairs set upon a table were placed nearby. To his right was a little more open, mostly a big space that was a bit barren other then a old rug and a few knick knacks on the shelves. However, he did notice a few hanging pots and a small planter that was settled next to a ledge of an open window. A small plant resided inside, that almost resembles a rose; with white petals that melded with a red in the center. A small drainage was visible up above, and he noticed a little bit of water dripping down above, giving it fresh nourishment

He could only wonder how it managed to survive this long in winter.

He soon was close to Gretchen’s side and stopped before her. She was hunched over, sitting on the edge of the bed and with a saddened expression on her face. She was down cast, her eyes tracing down to the small music box that she cradled in her talons. Her thumbs traced the edge of the box, caressing it like it was the most precious item she had.

He cleared his throat, hoping to get her attention, but she remained where she was. He saw her breath come forth from the cool air.

Making his decision, he silently made his way over the firewood.

Settling their gear and General Quill’s paper onto the ground, he picked up the first bundle of wood and placed it into the stone grate. The room was quite dark with visible light coming from the window outside, and with nighttime swiftly approaching, he would have to get the fire going. Once settled, he took the small stone, that the thestrals had given him, and began making the fire within. After about a minute of work, the fire sparked to life. Quicksilver settled a cast iron to cover the entrance and prevent any sparkling embers from flying out. He took a step back, marveled for a moment that the fire began to rise nicely and was deep inside the chamber.

He would have stayed longer to marvel at it, but his attention was needed for Gretchen.

He turned to her, wondering how she was holding up. She remained relatively the same, her talons still cradling the small music box. Quicksilver turned to their gear, the note resting right on top of the pile. He turned to it, deciding now was the best time to read it to her.

“Fletching,” Gretchen muttered. He stopped in his tracks, turning to see her still staring at the music box.

“Yes?” he asked.

“In the closet… there are some blankets and pillows. Can you grab some, please?” she asked, her usual tone more reserved than before. Following her instructions, Quicksilver went over to the closet and opened it up to find the required items within. He picked up a large red comforter and a few red pillows that had a white trim on the edge of the casings. He pulled it over and settled them on the side of the bed, waiting to hear what she wanted next. She remained where she was, but she did not move to the blankets, nor made a grab at the pillows.

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” she spoke once more, her eyes still traced down to the music box. “Life can be taken so easily and all that we have of them is their memory.”

“Gretchen...” Quicksilver tried to speak, but she looked up to him and her eyes looked sullen from dried tears. With the light of the fire reflecting on her face, she looked that more haunted over her uncle’s death.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, no apprehension in his voice. Gretchen blinked, another set of tears coming down her face. She sniffled and looked down at the music box once more.

“Not sure if you’re interested in my story, Fletching. Mine would be just as depressing as yours,” she muttered, quickly rubbing her eyes with her arm. Quicksilver sat on his haunches and remained where he was.

“We’ve got all night.” he replied, motioning to the window outside, which has begun to darken really quick.

Gretchen remained quiet for a second longer, her talon tracing the music box once more. A few pops in the fire were the only sounds between them.

“Alright, give me a moment.” she said, wiping more tears out of her eyes before looking back down at the music box.

“I guess it would have to start with my father leaving for the war,” she began, speaking slowly. “When I was younger, I always loved to be with my father and mother. They taught me everything I know. How to take my first steps, my first walk, even my first flight. I remember hurting myself a few times before finally getting it right,” she muttered, rubbing her arm a few times in the process.

“I was actually closer to my father the more that I think about. For he always was there whenever I was scared or felt alone. Whenever I got frightened by an autumn storm, he would always be by my side, always there to cheer me up when I needed it the most. His large wings would scoop me up, cradle me next to his side, all the while singing soft lullabies to me. I still remember how big those wings were, stretching out to at least a dozen claws on each end and encompassing me in his grip.” She paused, reminiscing as a soft, broken smile passed her beak.

Quicksilver shifted his own wings in turn, while she remained this way for a time until her smile faded once more.

“I was around six or seven when the war broke out with the news of King Ravenclaw’s death. When the war called and the rallying cries of our people brought forth one Gryphon from every Noble family. My father was eager to serve. He enlisted the moment they came at our door. Before he would leave with others to go fight, I was crying at the doorstep, with both Ebon and Deadeye on either side of me. I begged him not go. I just didn’t want him to leave, but I was merely a child and I couldn’t stop an order from our Elders and Councillors. Seeing me in my distress, he stood in front of me, scooped all three of us in his massive wings and held me close, promising to me that he would return to me and hold me just as close again.

“I never saw him after that. After many…many long months, they told my mother that they had never found his body in the early battles and had no trace of his whereabouts. I have no idea if he died or was captured and locked away in some forsaken cell, but after they stopped sending reports. We believed him to be dead. My mother was heartbroken. She became secluded after that, hardly eating meals or meeting anyone. She was like this for over four years before she just gave up and stopped taking any meals or seeing the light of day.

“I stayed with her, trying to reassure her, trying my best to see that life still had worth meaning. She gave me a weak smile, which still haunts me to this day. She soon died in her bed, my own claw clasping hers until the end.”

Quicksilver shuddered at the thought. It reminded him of his own mother dying from the pox all those years ago. The only difference was that he couldn’t be there for her at all, and her remains were burned so that the disease would not spread. It was after her loss that he had become secluded to himself until Silverwing managed to bring up and to see the light.

“After my mother's passing, we were taken to the grand estate were my uncle resided with his wife, Athena, and my cousin Franz. He had welcomed us with open arms, for he had loved his younger sister with all of his heart. I didn’t take a liking to him at first, thinking that he only cared about his military career. Over time, however, I began to grew fond of him and what he loved. He showed me the importance of our culture, its rich history and music. It reminded me of my father whenever he played the flute or the violin. I always recalled his music, my father playing songs that cheered us up. I sat next to his side, while Deadeye and Ebon were in awe, while even my cousin Franz would be singing a tune with…” She paused, her eyes staring blankly at a wall ahead of her. She then turned to Quicksilver, who remained silent during her story.

“I… I never got a chance to thank you. For telling about his fate,” she said, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. He folded his ears back and remembered how he had spoken of him to General Quill and how he had died.

“I didn’t tell you about his fate, how he died…”

“I overheard you speak of him. His last moments were indeed noble,” she interjected, before pausing again to wipe another tear from her eyes. He looked away, feeling more guilty to what he said to her days ago. The spiteful words about her people, torn apart by a possible civil war, and treating her poorly on how she was raised.

It made him feel like more of a fool than before.

“Gretchen, I…” Quicksilver began to say, wanting to apologize, but was stopped when Gretchen lifted a talon to him.

“Fletching. You said you had a letter from him? May you read it for me… please?” she said, almost begging. He blinked once before nodding to her, knowing how important it may be. He grabbed the parchment from his gear and cleared his throat to read. He then turned and took notice that she began winding the small music box, the gears turning with every crank. He waited till she stopped winding and looked to him. She kept her gaze on him, uncertainty running through her over what was in that letter. She then motioned her head to the edge of the bed and Quicksilver nodded to her. He stood on the edge of the bed, which was closer to the fireplace, the heat radiating much warmth to him.

He held the paper close and cleared his throat once more, the uneasiness building inside of him. He gave a quick look to Gretchen and she to him. A silent agreement fell between them as Quicksilver looked back to the letter and unfurled it. Gretchen soon let go of the music box, the same notes from earlier playing its tune, while the Equine slowly delved into the final letter of General Quill.

While he read, he had faintly imagined that the old general himself was speaking to them.

And that made it all the more harder to read.

My Dearest Athena. By now, the news of our defeat has reached you and our kin. The Equines that we thought we could tame, have been proven untamable. And the colonies that we once held with a firm claw have all rebelled and have proven stronger then we had ever anticipated.

Whatever you may hear of what has happened out here, know this. King Bronzelcaw did not fight and die gloriously in battle.

He killed it.

His Pride and his Ideals, killed our nation. And now my pride has begun to consume me as well.

You will never see me again, my Athena.

When this war is over, when the clarion calls of peace finally echo across the land… I want you to tell them. Tell our children that I love them. And that their father and brother has sacrificed so much... in defense of their future.

Au Revoir, Mon Amour.

With the final word spoken, the music that had been playing at a same slow pace ended. Quicksilver felt his heart ache from reading such a touching letter. Despite all that General Quill had went through, his final thoughts were of his family and that of his children.

For Ebon and Deadeye.

Gretchen. Even Gretchen.

Quicksilver slowly turned to Gretchen when she seized the letter and brought it to her face She was silent, reading the words of a Gryphon who was not only her kin, but a treasured family. After reading the final line of the letter, she let the paper slide from her talons, the paper landing on the wooden floor. Quicksilver then saw her talons shaking ever so slightly, her claws turning upward and showing her visible palms.

“I always loved him, I can still hear his voice, even now...” she said, her voice calm yet shaky. She squeezed the music box and curled her talons towards her chest, believing that little music box was the most precious thing in the world. “I’ve lost my father and mother already… and seeing him gone… him passing...” she said, her sobs resurfacing and her voice becoming strained. More tears streamed down her cheeks and Gretchen simply stared blankly at the wall ahead of her.

“With him gone… I’ve felt I have lost that warmth of them again,” she cried, her soft hiccups mixed with tiny whimpers. Her body slowly fell to the side, landing softly on the bed, just below the pillows. She curled inward, her soft cries filling the room of her heartache and loss.

Quicksilver felt devastated. His heart felt splintered by her loss, and even he felt tears filling his eyes. He sat there for nearly a minute, watching her body shudder with every sob, crying out for her uncle’s passing. The memories of his own parents resurfaced to the forefront of his mind, and he too shared her pain. If this is what Saint Gregor had mentioned to him, then he knew that she has felt as much pain as he. After staring at her and feeling his own heart ache for her, a voice procured a single thought.

Hold her, it whispered gently to him.

Without any word, he lowered himself down over Gretchen, his strained wings opening to encompass her. With a little resistance from his wing, he draped his right wing over her frame, her body shaking considerably from when his feathers made contact. He lowered his head until he was next to her own, and he wrapped his hooves around her body, holding her close to him.

He held her there, and she showed no resistance and or complaint. She seemed to welcome it as she cried through the night. The two shared their embrace, silently crying the night away until they both went to sleep.

The memory of their loved ones remained in their dreams.

Author's Note

Hello Everyone! Been a little bit since we last spoke and we got ourselves a new chapter! Lot of interesting developments and many details. I can't wait to hear from you and I look forward to see you in the comment section.

Talk to you soon.

~Broman.

Art was provided by the ever talent Margony. Do go check her out!

Also forgot to mention Turnipberry for their amazing art for General Quill!

Grace

Quicksilver couldn’t sleep this night. His mind continued to be awake, long after Gretchen had fallen asleep.

General Quill was gone, his life taken by his own claws but only after being grievously wounded by a mad King's followers. The Mad King, it seems, fabricated claims against General Quill and his family over their plans for the city of Prancy and its inhabitants, while he and his cohorts fought to reclaim and pillage it to the ground. Black Talon was still out there, and will likely return to claim a corpse before long, along with Sharp Beak who would no doubt be wanting his revenge against Quicksilver and Gretchen. The Gryphons also had a new weapon at their disposal. This matchlock, as Lupin had described, would be devastating on the battlefield and renew the war’s bloodshed.

All that has happened since he had left that encampment has lead from one bad situation to the next, and it felt as if it was going to get worse.

At the very least, his mind was somewhat eased by Gretchen being held in his hooves.

She had languished a few hours ago, crying herself to sleep over her loss of her uncle. His death had triggered memories within her and caused her much heartache. He could still feel her shaking long into the night. He had remained by her side, holding her close to his body and trying his best to comfort her.

Yet, despite her grievances and loss, he too was feeling great loss of his own parents.

When his father died in the war they found his body embedded into a wooden tree, a spear thrust deep into his body. His mother was burned after the pox claimed her, and he couldn’t even be by her side when she died. He had sunken to such a state of depression that he had never truly grieved for their loss, not even able to cry for them when they passed. For all those years, he’d only thought of them as casualties of war.

Instead his heart was heavy over his elder sister and what she had planned for both of them. Never once did he ever decide things on his own. She was always there, bringing up from the brink and saving his life that made her his guide. His parents seemed to be an afterthought as she guided his life and made decisions for the both of them. When he fell down and was at his lowest, she would be by his side to pick him back up.

But now, it would appear that Gretchen was going through the same fate as he did all those years ago, and now she needed to be lifted up from her loss. Yet, with Gretchen here in this cabin upon the high peaks of High Talon Mountains, he was silently crying as a newborn babe.

For he did not know what he could do in order to comfort her weary heart.

He knew not if anything he could say would ease her pain, nor if any comfort he would bring would soothe her. He only listened to that voice in his head. The still soft voice, something that seemed to be in everypony, guided his actions. His own conscious mind, though disagreeing with the differences between them, pushed him to give her some reassurance. If there was any consolation from all that she has given him since their time together, this was it.

For some reason, holding her in his arms and wrapping his wings around her frame, it all seemed right.

Gretchen, I hope you’re okay, he thought, closing his eyes and trying to get some sleep.

However, his mind was still troubled. It was not for the events that had unfolded around him. Not because that dangers will be lurking in the darkness. It was also not his own uneasiness for holding her this close to him.

It was the smell of death nearby.

The smell permeated the cabin, seeping into every wooden frame and every wall. It hung in the air, tainting the home. Even the fire, which had become a low ember, could not damper it’s stain. Was it because of this death and senseless violence that remained in this home for so long the very reason he could not sleep? Was his heart not at rest because the murderers of Gretchen’s uncle remained in her family's home?

Either way, the smell of death was getting to him and they needed to be removed.

Quicksilver quickly unfurled himself from Gretchen’s body, his burdened wings leaving her frame. He removed himself from her side and quickly yet quietly got out of the bed, the warmth being sapped away from the close touch. Deciding not to leave her in the cold, he gently place the comforter over her body and kept it snug so she stayed warm. Eyeing the low fire in the hearth, he grabbed more wood and piled more into the pit. After a few minutes passed, the fire slowly renewed over the lumber, churning in heat and casting its light over the room.

Quicksilver went to the door knowing he had much to do this night, but paused to cast a glance back to Gretchen, who remained fast asleep. He gave a small smile before going through the door and into the next room.

The first room he entered was the bedroom with the two Gryphons inside. It was a complete mess and the smell of blood hung in the air. Steeling his nerves and silencing any doubt, he went to his task. He first picked up the Gryphon who had the battle axe and the bolt that remained in his face. He picked up the lumbering body, hoisted it over his shoulders and headed down the stairs. The old wood creaked and waned with every step he made. Once outside, he settled the body onto the cold snow outside the home.

He took a look at the dead warrior, seeing his eyes half open and looking blankly to the sky. He wondered what their life would have been if they hadn't followed Black Talon. What his life once was before the war. Wondering what his name is. He closed his eyes, then gently placed a hoof the Gryphon’s eyes and closed them. He took a look around him, seeing the odd forms and shapes scattered about the snow.

Those are going to be the most difficult to move, he surmised, heading back inside to gather the rest of the bodies.

One by one, with every minute to near hour of his labour, he gathered the bodies of each of the Gryphons inside the home. Because of Gretchen sleeping, he did his work quietly. He gathered their weapons, stashing them in the living room of the cabin. At the same time he checked to see if they had any small provisions or supplies that they’d brought along with them. He struck out on most of them, but he did find one or two carrying dried meat rations.

Though wrong to steal from the dead and his stomach protesting the provisions, it was necessary for survival.

After clearing the dead Gryphons from both floors, he moved on to remove the Gryphon that was stuck in the window. The body was still, displayed like some statue staring up to the sky. Quicksilver carefully lifted the Gryphon off the broken glass, gently removing the shards so that he wouldn’t step on them. He felt the body fall into him, and he held firm as he dragged it outside.

Why are you doing this? a voice spoke through his head.

He paused, looking around for somepony nearby. After a moment of silence he continued his work, dragging the cadaver and laying it next to his fellow Gryphons. They all laid idle, all matched by their colored feathers but each face different by age and appearance. He looked out to the bodies that remained in the snow, their bodies illuminated by the light of the moon now partially exposed by the parted clouds above. The flakes gently fell from on high and covered their still forms, threatening to bury and leave them forgotten forever.

Sighing deeply, his breath visible in the cold air, he went about to recover the bodies.

He spent what felt like an hour moving the bodies, setting them aside and placing which limb went to which body. He would occasionally drag their weapons inside, and settling them with the rest of their gear. After exhausting himself, he observed his work over the gryphons.

He wondered what their lives might have been if they hadn't worked under Sharp Beak or Black Talon. What lies did he tell tell to them to make them follow his mad crusade? Or what threats that they issued in order for their complete and total cooperation?

It didn’t matter much now. The dead can’t tell their final fates.

Remembering there was a spade in the kitchen, he decided to head back in and grab it so that he may dig a hole. When he was still outside, he recalled that General Quill has not been removed from his room. He made a note to get him later and that he needed to give him a proper burial.

He didn’t know if Gretchen would be coarse with him or object to this. He didn’t even know if he would object against a basic Gryphon burial custom. He would deal with that threshold when it came. General Quill needed to be given a decent grave that was not left unmarked.

He did write that he wanted this… to be buried in a place that was his home.

He took the spade with him and moved several yards away from the house, searching for a good location. After several minutes of searching, he came upon an open area that was near the cliffside. He looked out to see the landscape around him. The valley below was covered in a thick mist, and the mountains jutted out like small islands out of a ocean. He back peddled for a moment, imagining that he could take off in flight from where he was, and that he may glide across the open valley and the high mountains around him. He gave a weary smile and looked at what was underneath him.

This was the spot.

He took the spade and gave a hefty thrust into the snow and earth, removing the first patch of dirt.

Why are you doing this? the voice returned, a little louder this time and in a mocking tone.

Quicksilver paused his work for but a brief moment before narrowing his eyes and continuing to dig. With every plunge with the spade, he removed small stones that got in his way and digging ever deeper, his tired body being heated by the hard labor.

Is this out of pity for her? the voice spoke to him.

“Shut up,” he replied, digging a little harder than needed and hurting his hoof in the process. He cursed under his breath and kept digging, ignoring the cold around the voice in his mind.

Sure, ignore me if you will… but this doesn’t change the fact that she is not a friend.

“You don’t know that,” he replied, pushing a rather large rock out of the hole and setting it out of the way. The voice remained silent, and he focused his attention at the task at hoof. After another twenty minutes of constant digging he was already three feet deep inside the ground. His body was sore and cold, yet at the same time felt overwhelmingly hot over his labor. He continued moving the earth, making it larger and deeper so that General Quill’s body would not be ravaged by wild animals or the elements.

They are different from us, you know this as much as I. Why continue to help them when you’ve been owed enough?

“This is not about me. This is about Gretchen’s uncle, her family. She has been through enough.”

And yet we have been put through much more, the voice replied, a venom in its voice. Quicksilver chose to ignore it, getting deeper and deeper into the hole. After spending at least an hour or two on the frozen mountainside, he had finished the grave. It was roughly five to six feet deep, a good size. Quicksilver dragged himself up out of the hole, and his hooves crunched onto the snow. His hooves felt unbearably heavy, and his body shook from the cold in the air. He looked up to the sky, and his eyes widened slightly from the sight.

The clouds were not as visible, and he could see the stars high above the sky.

He blinked once, thinking it was just his imagination, though he found it hard since his eyes felt like they were iced over. The night sky hung over his head, the stars shining crystal diamonds and casting a beautiful canvas across the land and ready to painted. Taking a deep breath, his body feeling cold from top to bottom, he decided he would finish the work in the morning.

He dragged the spade to the cabin, his legs shaking from the cold and exertion. He shook his hooves once he got onto the wooden porch and felt his legs tingle from the excess cold. Placing the spade along the wall he went inside the cabin, the cold air leaving him when he closed the door behind him. He went to the kitchen and spotted the sink nearby.

The sink was similar in look to Equestrian designs, with a large metal tub inside and what appeared to be some sort of pump next to it. It was an interesting design due to the faucet being in the shape of a Gryphon. He began pumping, the water coming out of the Gryphon’s mouth and into the sink. The sink filled quickly enough and he began to place his weary hooves into the water. The water was surprisingly warm to the touch. His cold hooves, which felt like ice from the outside, quickly eased into the warm water and he sighed with much content.

He looked in front of him and saw a silver mirror. It was a medium sized mirror, with a small, weaving design along the edges. He saw his own reflection and he looked rather haggard, if not quite horrid from his work. He had bags under his eyes and his eyes were red, though not close to bloodshot. He closed his eyes and sighed, taking in the warmth the water brought to him.

You’re a fool!

The voice returned, only louder this time. Quicksilver opened his eyes and his head whipped up to look what was in front of him. He saw his own reflection, but his reflection had a scowl upon his face.

They are your enemy! Don’t you see that!? his mirror image spoke to him, pointing a hoof at him in accusation.

“I only...I only did what was right,” he replied. He blinked a few times, trying to see if what he was seeing was real.

You did what was right? the voice said in a condescending tone, You think it was right when your father was impaled? Do you know how many families have been torn apart by this damn war!?

“Too many to even describe,” Quicksilver relented, his eyes looking downward.

Don’t you ignore me! Can you really cast aside their guilt so easily? Can you really ignore the atrocities they committed on our homeland? Our people and our culture! the voice accused. His voice was icy and cold with each word spoken. Quicksilver tried to ignore it, suppressing the evil voice as best he could.

I think that hen you called a friend has not been given enough of a burden, if not punishment.

Quicksilver stared back at the reflection in the mirror, an anger growing in his eyes.

“Keep her out of this! She deserved none of this!” he shouted back.

Oh, don’t be the coy one. You always had resentment for Gryphons and you always will. Gretchen is no different.

“The only difference between me and you is your hatred! Bigotry and utter resentment is what separates us!” Quicksilver shouted back.

His mirror image gave a dismissive wave. After all that has happened, you still believe we can get along? Because of a few needless deaths, you suddenly feel for these beasts?

“You’re the one without a heart! You don’t even consider them creatures at all!” Quicksilver countered.

As they should be! the voice replied, smacking its hoof against the glass.

Quicksilver stared at his other self, seeing the burning hatred in his reflections eyes. He did have frustration and at times distrustful hatred, but this other side of him was not what he expected.

This was just pure rage.

The course of events that had lead up to this moment, all the hardships he had endured during their stay.

However, he didn’t have to go in alone.

Ebon, Deadeye, Felix, even the minotaur Ironhide helped him in his dire need.

But more then anypony else, Gretchen had helped him the most. And hearing her name be disparaged burned a true rage within his heart.

“You will be silent. I’m not holier than thou of Gretchen or any of her kin. I am not some warmonger who threatens and lies against good people, and I am certainly not some barbaric animal who uses force to get what he wants. So spare these thoughts from my mind. Never will I ever consider that she is a threat to me, or to anypony else. For she is far different than you know,” he said with firm conviction. His heart seemed to accelerate from that, and yet he did not fear nor deter from it. What he was feeling was true.

You can’t possibly think such things. For she is not-

“Shut up!” Quicksilver punched his hoof straight into the silver mirror, fracturing the glass into multiple sections, yet it still held its frame. “You know nothing of Gretchen! She means more to me than you know!” Quicksilver removed his hoof off the glass, ready to launch another punch. However, once he pulled back, he froze when he saw multiple versions of not only himself but of the Gryphons he wanted to bury.

“She’s not worth it!”

“She is refuse!”

“Go back to where you came!”

“You are not welcome in this house!”

“Pegasus filth!”

The multitude of voices all screamed and raved at Quicksilver. His eyes darted everywhere, to every Gryphon and all those who mocked and scorned him. They shouted and cursed, screaming wild obscenities and belittling him.

Why do you think that she is special?! the voice shouted at him, his image appearing over each of the fragments of the mirror and encompassing everything in front of him.

“She’s… she’s...” Quicksilver tried to speak, but his mind drew a blank. His double image was appearing on the Gryphon’s faces, making them disappear and reappear as his own. Each one had a look of disgust and hateful gaze upon him, and they continued to shout him down and silence his voice.

She’s what? Tell me why you care for her! Why do you care for her, for Quill, and or for her family?! the voice shouted. Quicksilver’s ears folded back, his mirror image engulfing the entire glass and ready to burst out.

C,mon tell me! the voice demanded.

A feeling stirred within him. A feeling so deep in his heart that he knew it was true and pure from all others.

What he truly felt.

Tell me!

Quicksilver closed his eyes and looked down, the feeling in his heart ready to burst and break out of him.

TELL ME!

“It’s because I love her!” Quicksilver screamed out. His voice felt like thunder within the home. The voice was suddenly silent, replaced with a calmness in the wind. Quicksilver still had his eyes closed, and his heart felt relief from revealing what was within him.

“I love her. I don’t care what you say or what you may think, but my own heart feels otherwise!” he began, his hooves trembling with each word shaky like a sinner confessing to a crime. “Like me, she has suffered so much and endured many hardships. But it’s not just that. She helped me when I needed it most! Through her I was able to understand more about her life and her people. Her rich culture and history. I’ve grown fond of it, and through them I've grown fond of her!” He felt tears in his eyes, which fell down his muzzle and splashed into the open sink below.

“I’ve grown fond of how she talks, how she takes life with ease and how she manages to warm my heart whenever I hear her voice. Her pristine feathers are so bright that it just takes my breath away from seeing them when she is in flight.” Quicksilver raised his head, staring back at his other self. “Even if we can’t be together, I still will not allow her to face the same fate as her uncle, and I will do whatever I have in my power to keep her safe! That is why I care! For she is worth fighting for!”

His opposite in the mirror was stunned, still staring back at him as if he had gone mad. Quicksilver kept a firm gaze upon him, not relenting after telling the truth within his heart. For a moment the two stared in silence, trapped in a endless lock that would only end when one of them blinked.

His opposite was the first to break.

And he smiled at him.

“I guess that is how you feel,” his double said back at him, his mood relaxed and his body eased from the tension. Quicksilver curled a brow. His other self leaned forward, peeling himself away from the mirror to materialize in front of him. He stared Quicksilver straight in the eye and a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“You hold onto that promise of yours. With true feelings like that, you can sway many to your side. Including her heart.” His double leaned forward and pressed his head against him, and Quicksilver blinked from the contact.

His eyes widened, and he found his muzzle and cheek halfway into the sink. He raised his head from the water, the liquid dribbling off his cheeks and down his chin. He quickly gave a shake of any excess water on his face and rubbed a hoof over his muzzle. He stared in front of him and he saw the same silver mirror, but whole just as before.

“Was that just a dream?” he said softly to himself. He backed away from the sink and kept staring at his own reflection in the mirror, thinking by some chance that something else would happen. Nothing came of it, and he remained ever confused. Taking a deep breath, he moved back towards the staircase and headed to the room Gretchen was in. As he walked, a strange niggling feeling came over him.

Did I truly say that I love her in my dream? he thought, the raw emotion still lingering heavy on his mind. He had always considered her a true friend, even if they had their differences, and both had a mutual respect for each other. But the mere thought of love made his knees buckle. Did he truly have deeper feelings for Gretchen? Did he truly believe his feelings were real and not conjured up by that dream? While his heavy hooves climbed up the staircase to the second floor, the burning question still remained.

He went to the bedroom, pushing the door softly so as to not disturb Gretchen. He saw the fire was low in its hearth; many hours had passed since he had taken up the task to carry the dead and dig the single grave. Gretchen was still asleep on the bed, the thick blanket still covering her body. He felt his heart relax that she was there and safe. He moved forward, the wood creaked with each step of his hooves beneath him. He grabbed a few more logs for the low hearth and placed them over the embers, renewing the fire within and casting its warm light across the room. Quicksilver turned to face Gretchen, who remained asleep underneath her comforter, still clutching the music box to her side. He instinctively went over and entered in the corner of the bed just behind Gretchen. He sat there for a moment, still watching her sleeping form. A flutter grew in his heart, yet he did not have an answer as to why. He gave a small chuckle and placed a hoof onto the comforter.

I guess I can sort out my feelings with her later, he thought, pushing the comforter back and laying behind Gretchen. She shuddered and he noticed her face narrow slightly in discomfort from the warmth leaving her. She curled inward, giving more room for Quicksilver to wrap his hooves around her. He stretched his right wing, wincing a little from the pain, before settling over her body. He brought her close and would remain there for the rest of the night. He would give a subtle smile when he saw her face ease and he was able to get to sleep.

I hope when the time comes I can share my feelings with you were his last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep.

Morning came more quickly then it should, or at least quicker than Quicksilver thought it should. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry and his eyes yelling back at him to sleep. He wanted to do so, but he cast a glance down to the sleeping Gryphon, who still sat idle in that same position. He could see a soft light enter the room from the window behind him. He raised his head, feeling heavy and worn out beyond measure. He groaned slightly, but it did not stir Gretchen in her sleep. He yawned like a cat and lifted his wing off of Gretchen’s body, the movement causing Gretchen to curl up from the heat leaving her.

I feel like I only slept for three or four hours, he inwardly moaned. He looked down at the sleeping hen, surprised at how much of a heavy sleeper she was. He wondered if all the excitement from yesterday had tired her out, both physically and spiritually. He observed the fire had finally died out, nothing but ash and little cinders remaining. He wanted to lie down and get that extra amount of sleep, but his mind lingered to what else was in this cabin.

The General needed to be laid to rest.

He gently got out of the bed, being sure not to disturb her. Once off the bed he took a look at her, seeing that she was peacefully asleep and had not moved since she laid there. He smiled, placing a hoof onto her shoulder and holding it there for a brief moment. She stirred by his touch but did not wake. Letting go he turned toward the door and headed towards the General's room. While heading to the door he slowly collected himself, ready to do what needed to be done.

He opened the door into the General’s room, seeing everything had been left untouched. He looked out the window and it was clear outside, not dark nor dreary like he’d normally see. Snow piled near the window but it didn’t matter much. He turned his gaze upon the body, seeing General Quill still there since they first found him. Quicksilver leaned down, seeing the bolt still embedded in his head. He leaned down, a hoof hovering over the bolt. He carefully placed his left hoof underneath the General’s head, propping him as he worked on getting it out.

“Forgive me,” he said, slowly pulling on the bolt. It resisted him at first, the bolt embedded deep into his head. The bolt was smaller than a standard arrow, but short which made it difficult to snap it in two. He’d done these sort of things before with his own soldiers, breaking the shaft and pulling the arrow out of the body. It was more tedious due to its size, and not knowing if it was stuck in his skull made the procedure all the more challenging. He also didn’t wish to twist or turn the bolt, wanting to keep his head intact as best as he could.

Inch by careful inch, the bolt eventually became loose, pulling away from the muscles and the bone. Quicksilver tightened his grip, pulling the bolt at a gentle pace, until the bolt came out with ease. He looked at the bolt, and saw it had a standard design. Where the wood ended the shaft of the bolt narrowed down until it spread out into a oval shape before ending into narrow point. He placed the bolt on the side to see the damage. A trickle of blood came out of General Quill’s head, but it didn’t bleed or spurt once removed.

His body would be too cold for that to happen.

Knowing that part was finished, Quicksilver moved into a favorable position until he could grab the general by the arm and hoist him onto his back. He tenderly grasped him, careful not to make his body hit anything on the way up. After about a minute of work, he had the general’s body on his back, carefully held so that he wouldn't fall.

Quicksilver made his way out of the room, the wood creaking with each heavy step he took. He continued his pace all the way to the stairs, not caring if the noise would stir Gretchen. He carefully went down the stairs, making sure every step would not jostle the body and make him fall off his back. When he walked into the main room he settled the general onto the rug, carefully positioning his head onto the floor. Once done, he folded both of his claws until they interlaced and settled just below his chest.

Finished with the positioning of the body, Quicksilver took a small look at the the former general. He was idle on his back and resting comfortably, not a care left in the world. In a strange way, he almost looked like he was smiling from the way he laid. Quicksilver looked down, observing where Quill’s talons interlocked. He then realized that he would be probably want to be buried with his weapon. He recalled it being next to his armor, and he turned to the stairs.

Only to find Gretchen standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Gretchen,” he said, surprised.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her golden eyes boring into his own. He blinked a few times, looking down at the body of her uncle before looking back at her. She followed his gaze and saw her uncle lying on the ground.

“What are you doing, Fletching?” she asked once more, more sternly then before.

“I was… I was wanting to give your uncle a proper burial,” he explained, looking down at the body before him. “I didn’t want him to be left for the wolves or to rot in his own home.” He looked back at Gretchen, who still gave him a critical eye. Swallowing the lump in his throat he continued. “I know how stressed you were; his loss has reminded you of your own parents. I guess I’m in the same boat with you in that I never got a chance to be with my parents. I know you might be upset, if there is some custom that I don’t know about, but I just wanted to do this, for him. I didn’t want you to go through… no… I didn’t want you to suffer, Gretchen...” He tried to explain, struggling to get the words out.

Gretchen’s eyes widened, the tip of her feathers rising up in clear agitation. She began walking towards him and picking up speed. Quicksilver, seeing the oncoming hen, closed his eyes and braced himself for the oncoming pummeling.

What he didn’t expect was her arms to wrap around his frame and her wings to envelop him in a hug.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise.

He turned to her, seeing her smiling and tears streaming down her face. After a moment of silence, she sniffled and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder and into his neck, causing a small blush to appear on his countenance.

“Thank you… you don’t know how much this means to me and my uncle,” she said, still sniveling and rubbing her feathers into him. He still blushed when she did this and was thankful that she didn’t see his face. Particularly when he thought it was nice when her feathers tickled his muzzle and cheek. He tried burying that thought into the back of his mind until she eventually backed away from him.

“Let me help. I know of a sheet to wrap him in,” she said. He nodded to her and she went to another part of the cabin. He went back up the stairs to gather the sword and armor of General Quill. It took him a minute or two to gather his things, but while he got the general’s equipment, his mind was still set on Gretchen.

Why did she hug me that way? Why was she so casual about the whole thing?

He went back down the stairs, carrying the armor on his back and the sword & scabbard in his mouth. He soon went in the living room, spotting Gretchen unfurl a large white sheet over the main living room. Quicksilver settled the equipment onto the floor. Gretchen turned to see her uncle’s possessions, then looked back to him.

“Can you help me, Fletching?” she asked, gesturing to her uncle. He nodded and without a word went to the legs of the general. Gretchen placed herself near his head, wrapping her talons around his head and shoulders and tenderly lifting him up. Quicksilver grabbed his legs and lifted the old general onto the fabric. Gretchen was a little slower then Quicksilver, for once she settled her uncle onto the fabric she held his head and kept her posture there. She gently rubbed her talons through her uncle’s feathers, gently caressing the side of his cheek. One of her talons pressed against his fatal wound, and her eyes closed in deep thought.

“Fletching, can you grab a wet cloth from the sink please?” she said softly. Quicksilver obliged while she stayed there. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a nearby cloth that sat on the counter. He placed it into the water and made sure it was completely wet. Taking it out and drying it with his hoof to get as much excess water out. He made his way back into the living room and to Gretchen’s side, where she remained holding her uncle in her talons. When he was close to her side, she looked up and saw the wet cloth in his hoof.

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing it and beginning to gently clean the sides her uncle’s face, cleaning up the dry blood that had accumulated. With every gentle swipe, the dry blood washed away and would soon leave just the hole in his head.

How strong she was in this moment, even after the loss of such a great life.

While Gretchen tended to the final cleanings, Quicksilver cast his gaze to the general’s chest, seeing the medallion hang off his neck and the Gryphon claw glimmering in the faint light. He kneeled down, clasping the medallion with his hoof and bringing it up into the light. The Gryphon claw was still in the center, shining slightly in the morning light outside. He held onto it tighter, knowing this medallion was the key to prove of Gretchen’s family of their innocence over what King Bronzeclaw has done.

Without a word, he slowly pulled it off his neck and settled it onto the nearby couch..

Gretchen took notice of his action but did not say a word to him. Instead, her attention remained on cleaning the small wound on her uncle’s temple. After another minute of cleaning, she settled the cloth to the side and inspected the wound. It was completely clear of blood, despite the small hole that remained. She then lowered her head until she pressed it against her uncle’s brow. She closed her eyes and whispered so softly that Quicksilver could barely catch the words.

“Go now to your forefathers…. for they await you upon the open skies,” she said, keeping herself there for a few moments longer. She kissed his forehead and then stared Quicksilver in the eye. She nodded to him while her claws went to grab at the edges of the sheet. Silently the two began to wrap the sheet around his body, tucking in every corner around his form. While Quicksilver ensured that every spot was covered, a single thought came into his mind: He was imagining that he was burying his own father.

He had to repress a shudder from such a thought, for if he allowed it, he would no doubt be shedding tears that he didn’t know if he could stop.

After Quill’s lower half was covered, Quicksilver saw Gretchen finish covering her uncle’s chest. She was at first hesitant to wrap the cover around her uncle’s head, but reluctantly pulled the cover over his skull. She gently tucked in every edge of the sheet, ensuring that it was tight and would not part when she moved him. She stood up, moving to his side and bending down. Quicksilver backed away as she placed both of her claws underneath his frame, lifting up the body of the former general. He looked up to her as she stood at her full height, carrying her uncle in both talons and her wings extending to keep herself balanced. She stared out the front door, and Quicksilver already knew what was next.

He went to grab the armor and the sword, but stopped when she shook her head.

“You can leave those, Fletching.” Her words were calm and showed no anger. He nodded, heading to the front door and opened it up for her. Gretchen wordlessly moved forward, a grim determination that she must bury him. Quicksilver could see that she was already ready to weep again, and he couldn’t blame her for the state that she was in. She moved past him and Quicksilver quickly followed, grabbing the spade on the way out. He walked by her side, heading to the open grave.

He looked out and saw the light was slowly rising up over the sky, with the clouds around them starting to disperse. He saw Gretchen look upon the line of bodies of the dead Nomads. Her eyes were wide, but she did not say anything and kept walking. She cast her gaze at him, and he could only wonder what was going on in her mind. He soon kept his gaze forward until he came upon the open grave, which had not been touched since he had dug it open hours ago.

“Gretchen?” he asked, turning to her as she stopped before the grave. She looked at him, and he could see her eyes becoming red and ready to burst with fresh tears. Even though she was holding onto her uncle’s body she still managed to hold herself upright. He took a step forward and placed a hoof on General’s Quill’s chest, feeling a lifeless body underneath the sheets. He could imagine that is where everyone would end up in the end, to go away while the youth would grow up to carry on their legacies. He stayed there for a moment, a part of himself not wanting to let his hoof off the body, before eventually letting go. Gretchen lifted the body, once again pressing her head against his, before going to the open grave. She gently lowered his body into the earth, her body shaking. Once settled she slowly stood up, standing over the grave and tears already breaking through her countenance.

A part of Quicksilver wanted to go up to her and comfort her as best as he could. However he remained still, the spade still in hoof and ready to bury the body. Gretchen remained staring at the grave and her uncle laid within. She then turned to Quicksilver, a few tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Okay,” she said. With that, he plowed the spade into the mound of dirt.

He began to cover the body, the dirt and snow filling quickly as he worked. He didn’t mind being the grave digger, and it kept his mind focused while Gretchen remained where she was. With every patch of earth tossed into the grave, the harder it seemed for Quicksilver. Listening to him speak, discussing their lives and families, and reading his journal made Quicksilver feel a deep link between them.

Now that he was gone, he felt he had to cut it off forever.

When he was halfway through burying General Quill, he took notice that Gretchen had left to her own devices. He paid no heed, deciding to keep burying the body while she was off grieving for her uncle. After what felt like an hour (when it really took only thirty minutes), he had finished burying the body, leaving nothing but a large mound to cover the unmarked grave. His muscles were sore, and he drew a deep breath of relief from the hard work. He closed his eyes and his mind took in his surroundings.

He could hear the wind gently blow around him. The sound of the air brushing against the tallest trees and creating a deep noise that was all too familiar. He felt a bit of light of the sun creeping over the mountain, casting its glow onto his back and giving him warmth. It was gentle and welcoming, filling his weary bones with great relief. He opened his eyes to the grave before him.

Only to find a shadow cast over him.

He looked up in surprise when he saw Gretchen flapping her wings above him and holding onto a large stone. She descended down until she placed the stone at the head of the grave, marking it for any fortunate traveler to see. She held her claws over the stone, which was roughly twice the size of his own head. She then took her right claw over it’s surface and began scratching into the rock. Quicksilver watched as she did this several times, each swipe of talon making the gashes deep in the makeshift headstone. It took her nearly a minute, but after she was done she backed away from the grave and sat on her haunches, taking deep, if not labored, breaths.

Quicksilver stood there, watching as she looked over the grave, her sullen eyes filled with much sadness and grief. He could see her body shaking and her head dipped low in clear agony. He wanted to go next to her, his first thought wanting nothing more then to go to her side and wrap a wing around her body. However, a second thought immediately came in, telling him to stay aside, wanting to give her space. He took notice when Gretchen raised a talon and placed a claw over her face, shedding much tears over her loss.

To hell with him waiting.

Quicksilver, after listening to the first prompting, went forward, unfurling his right wing until it would go to its farthest extent. Once he was by her side, he wrapped his hurt wing around her and pulling her close as best as he could, even if it pained his wing in the process. Her crying stopped and she shuddered from the contact of his feathers brushing against her back. She looked up to him, seeing a compassionate expression emanating from him. She stayed like that for a moment, and he wondered if he had asserted himself too far.

She instead smiled back and rubbed her head straight into his chest.

He blinked in surprise, his heart nearly jumping from the initial contact. However, he soon eased a little when she leaned further into him and accepted his hug. He felt her left claw trace up his right shoulder blade and over some of his feathers before resting onto his left shoulder. She pulled him in close and he nearly shivered from her touch. It alleviated his worry when she gave a soft sigh of content.

“Fletching…I...Thank you, thank you,” she said softly, her eyes still shut. He responded by closing his eyes and drawing his wing closer, pulling her in as best his injury would allow. For a time the two sat in silence, their only companion was themselves and the wind that gently blew around them. Nothing disturbed them, nothing threatened them. Time slipped by for what felt like hours and they didn’t move from their spot. All was calm. A peaceful moment in honoring a once great life of General Quill.

It was just the two of them on the mountainside, and he was alright with this.

The sun was casting its light upon the land, and he felt the warmth soothe him and Gretchen. Quicksilver parted an eye open, looking out to the the distant horizon. His eyes widened and he looked out with a new perspective, seeing the clouds spread out and allowing a full view of the valley below.

What he saw next took his breath away.

He had a clear view of the mountain ranges that stretched out for miles on end into the distant north. Below, he could see a valley stretching out from one end of the mountains to the other. Everywhere he looked, the ancient mountains were covered in a blanket of snow and had not been disturbed, showing the unexplored regions and mountain ranges that any explorer or artist would wish to see. From the valley floor was a frozen river, the ice reflecting up into the sky. He focused his eyes westward and he saw the mountains part, stretching out to the open fields and flat landscapes of Prance, with the snow reflecting the sun and making them shine like starlight. He imagined that Prancy was just on the horizon, ready to take him home.

However, all that he could take in was the sights before him, and Gretchen held close by his side. For the briefest of moments, for the small hint of content life he wished to have, he thought of himself and Gretchen being together. Close to each other the way they are now, and living a long and fulfilling life. The body of General Quill taken and moved to a better and more suitable terrain for burial. A new cabin built upon the rolling hills, far from any village or town. The gentleness of a cool downpour of fresh rain, gentling caressing them as it fell to the earth. She would nestle into him and he would wrap his healed wing around her like he is doing now, and the two would be watching down to the new grave, knowing in their heart that he was in a better place.

A part of him also believed that her uncle was up there in the great sky. Watching over them as they remembered his memory.

He blinked once, the moment of a happy and natural peace fading from sight and the image of the new cabin and home soon following. He turned his gaze down to Gretchen, seeing her open her own eyes to stare out the valley below and take in the land that was her home.

Did I really just think that? he thought, still seeing Gretchen look out and a small hint of a smile spreading across her face. She took a deep breath, sighing in great relief as if a burden was thrown off her shoulders. She then turned her gaze upward to look up at Quicksilver, their eyes locking together. Her smile rose a little higher, and she wiped a tear out of her glistening eyes.

“Fletching,” she said, her voice soft and humble. Quicksilver leaned his head forward, wanting to hear what she had to say.

“Yes, Gretchen?” he asked, feeling the urge to wrap his hooves around her frame, to show the love and comfort that he was feeling within him.

“You smell like an old campfire and sweat.”

Quicksilver blinked at her. Taken aback by her sudden change of tone. Out of instinct he lifted his left hoof up and took a small whiff of his pit, his nose scrunch up slightly from the unpleasant smell.

“You’re right,” he said. Gretchen chuckled lightly. She leaned into him, seemingly not bothered by his stench.

“I know of a place that we can both get cleaned up,” she said.

Quicksilver chuckled in response. “I’ve not had a decent cleaning in a long time,” he said.

Gretchen smirked at him in response. “I think it might have been longer for me. Not a proper preening or a bath since I’ve been in our camp,” she replied, causing him to snigger in response.

“Well, I guess we both need a bird bath.”

The two let out a chuckle, their mirth carrying across the mountains and into the valley below. After he calmed down enough, he looked to the line of bodies of the dead Nomads and his smile lowered.

“We still got to bury all of them,” he said in a mournful tone. Gretchen followed his gaze, her own smile fading as well.

“Even if they are enemies, they still deserve a better fate,” she said, shaking her head. “For a warrior’s death, the custom would be to be burn their bodies, their ashes carried by the wind across this mountain,” she explained. Another interesting custom that Quicksilver had heard before, if not similar to what Equestria would do many years prior to its founding.

“If you want, I can do this now and see it done, if you need some time to…”

“No, that's fine. I can help you out… it will go by faster,” she interjected, turning her gaze back to him and her little grin raising all the more higher. “Besides, you really need that bath.”

Ebon was still as he sat near the low ember of the fire. Behind him laid the ruined tent of their mess and supply tent, which had provided quality food and enough rations to last them for months. Ever since it was put to the torch, some of the supplies they saved had begun to run foul. The only best day that they had was having two small course meals a day, before soon rationing out their meals with everyone else. There were even a few occasions they would have a thief come and steal an extra helping for themselves. They were disciplined for their actions, but he would not kill them. For he needed every Gryphon alive if they wanted to survive in this land. Despite the drop of morale with the food, everything was still pretty much normal. Every Gryphon around him was busy with their daily dealings or training in their regiments. Just like every other day they were here in this fort.

However, he was going to change that.

Ever since his uncle’s departure, he remained vigilant and kept his warriors at the ready for any confrontation or raid that Sharp Beak would unleash upon them. Yet, as every day passed and no force was seen, it started to worry him that they had up and left, figuring enough damage had been done to this camp already. His warriors were getting on edge, the wounded still hungering for vengeance and they were all restless in acting upon anything to set their minds at ease. He was in the same boat as his companions, and he too sought vengeance against Sharp Beak. But most of all, he wished nothing more then go after that pegasus who stole his sister away from his side.

He waited enough already and he would wait no longer.

“Ebon,” his brother Deadeye spoke to him. He glanced to his left and spotted his brother coming towards him, along with a Buck Wing and the few remaining officers that were under him. “I’ve brought them here as you requested, through Felix apologizes for not being here. He has been tied up with caring for the wounded.” Ebon nodded, understanding that Felix had much to do in caring for everyone.

He was a good Gryphon through and through.

Seeing the five remaining captains that were under him. Two of them were Nobles, Buck Wing who was brought here with his uncle, and a older Gryphon by the name of Stormrage, who had a distinguished armor that made him part of the Razor Claw Brigade. He had much experience in fighting under the brigade and was currently the sub-commander for the brigade itself. Though he knew he was the commander of this fort, Stormrage would no doubt be helpful in getting them sorted into formations. The three remaining officers were all Nomads, but they’d made the decision to abandon King Bronzeclaw.

Lieutenant Josef Blade was the youngest to ever receive the rank of officer, and was currently being considered to the office of captain by his fellow Nomads. However, while him leaving and deserting the main army would no doubt be bad for his name, he saw within the King’s black heart for what he did to his soldiers.

The final two Nomads, Major Crimson Dawn and Captain Jurgen Dawn, were both twins and had been serving proudly in the military for most of their distinguished lives. Despite their ranks, they both followed under his rule. They too were also liked by the higher chain of command, but they turned down the roles of serving in the higher ranks, preferably wanting to be with their troops and ensuring that they were kept safe and making the right calls before advancing on enemy positions. They had been part of the fight longer then he had.

With the officers in order and the time right, Ebon knew he had to get things done. He slowly stood up, stretching his wings before looking at his fellow officers.

“I know you wouldn't have been gathered here unless it was for good reason. Much time has passed since the coup and the state of this camp needs to be addressed if the time comes that we need to leave,” he stated and the fellow officers looked at one another. When none made a reply he turned to the senior officer, “Buck Wing, what is the status of our supplies? Will we have enough?”

“The supplies are low, if you want my honest opinion. The main goods that we generally have are burnt from the fire, and we are limited to dishing out one meal a day. At this rate, and with the many mouths to feed, we will only last a month or two. Give or take that they don’t go bad within the next few weeks,” he said.

Ebon nodded. He then turned his attention to the the twins. “How are the soldiers? How many are still able to stand and take up the blade? I want a full account of their health,” he said.

Crimson was the first to speak up. “The original forces from the main army are still in good health. All three hundred and twenty individuals are still being checked on, but the loss of their personal officers have really put a dent in their morale. Still can’t believe that so many were taken.”

His brother Jurgen came forward. “The ambush from Colonel Sharp Beak has hurt many of our brothers, but all of them are still in fighting shape. Though I can’t say for certain about their wounds. Most are willing to fight, but some still can’t fly. Including a few of ‘those’ Gryphons,” he explained.

Ebon looked down in shame. Fifteen officers were killed in the bloody fight, and the ones here were all that was left. He soon turned to Josef Blade, the young beige Gryphon who looked at the ground in thought. He only stirred when he saw the eyes land on him.

“Josef. How many do we have? How many are still with us in keeping the fight?” he asked, watching the young lieutenant shift nervously. He sighed and took a step towards him. “You’re not being judged here. You can speak freely,” he said in reassurance.

Josef looked up to him and nodded.

“After the battle, sir, we have lost one hundred and thirty soldiers from the coup. Most have been injured, but it is mostly smaller wounds that have been treated. As for the rest of the numbers, we have the three hundred and twenty soldiers that are still here. Along with your forces that remain of this camp, you have around eighty warriors that remain from the original two hundred garrison. With the Razor Claws, we only have two hundred remaining of their once proud brigade. We also can account for the Minotaur mercenaries that still remain a strong sixty two. They are few, but they have the strength of ten Gryphons to fight at our side.”

“If they are half as strong as their leader, then our enemies be doomed,” Deadeye interjected, causing a few of the officers to chortle at the response. Their leader Ironhide was no doubt a force to be reckoned with, and Ebon was glad he was on their side. That is, until the contract under them ends.

Undeterred, Josef continued on with his report. “All in all we have six hundred and sixty two soldiers who are still in fighting fit condition. All of them are ready for travel, if need be,” he said, still standing at attention to his superior.

“More than half of a standard regiment, and just around the right size for a battalion, but it is enough to hold a castle back from any invaders,” Stormrage said, tracing a claw to his chin in deep thought. “Though no doubt we will make a strong impact should the need to arrive to move out,” he said.

Ebon nodded. “Which is exactly that,” he said, causing the officers to turn to him. “My fellow Gryphons, with the current situation of our camp and the enemy no doubt out there waiting for us, we have to leave the mountains and head to Prancy,” he explained. The officers all looked at him, a few weary of the thought of leaving the fortified position of the mountains.

“But sir, we don’t know where the enemy might try and ambush us. Even if we did get to Prancy, what chance do we have in facing off against the enemy?” Josef protested, though he was quickly silenced when Ebon stared at him.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to step out of line,” he said.

Ebon tilted his head to him. “There is no need, but I understand your concern. However, I feel it is the right time to move out and attempt to link up with the main army. Not to fight with them, but to convince our brethren among the back lines to escape. We must do what we can to make them understand the folly of this campaign and regroup them back to Gryphonstone. From there, we wait out until winter is over and hopefully see what comes next and if the war turns for good or ill,” he explained, and to his relief all of the officers were in agreement for it. It got them a chance to get up and do something other than be cooped up here.

“If you wish, we can get the army moving within the hour and be ready to march out of the mountains,” Crimson Dawn said.

“We will make sure the wounded are given a chance to be helped out as well for the long haul,” Jurgen followed up.

Ebon nodded to them both and cast one last look among the officers. “If everyone is in agreement, then we shall make for Prancy. Summon the soldiers, and get the word we’ll be leaving within the hour,” he said.

All of the officers save his brother Deadeye went off their separate ways, leaving the two brothers to themselves. After they were gone, Deadeye turned to his elder brother.

“That is not the only reason why you want to move out, Ebon,” Deadeye stated.

“I know,” he said, marching towards his tent to gather his things, Deadeye following close at his side. Up ahead he noticed the bull Ironhide was stationed nearby, using a whetstone to clean his weapon.

“Gretchen is still out there, and your plan is to take everyone in searching for her, not just go to Prancy.”

“If the pegasus had any intention of leaving the mountains, the only habitable city for miles is Prancy. No doubt he will be there and if we find him, we find our sister.”

“Ebon, you know this is dangerous. She could be anywhere at this point. For all we know, she might be at least several leagues out by now. I worry for her too, but the safety of this garrison and our fellow brethren have more precedent. They need our attention, even when she may as very well be killed by some-”

“Deadeye! I know what I am doing,” Ebon snapped, glaring at his younger sibling. Deadeye remained silent, yet his gaze never wavering. Ebon snorted in frustration and turned to his tent before him.

“She is still out there, and everyday I worry for her safety. If by some small chance that she is still alive then I will find her, even if I must go to the ends of Mother Earth herself. Trust me, brother, I know what must be done, and I will see to it that she is safe. The time for idleness is over,” he said, taking a step towards his tent and ready to get moving.

Deadeye remained where he was, not bothering to go after him. Ebon didn’t care. His own pride and honor was at stake, and he would not forsake it.

He would see his sister again, one way or the other.

As he moved, he slowly approached Ironhide, who was studiously wiping the whetstone down his sword. The blade hummed a tune whenever he wiped it down, sending small sparks from the edges of the stone. He had seen many fine weapons in his life, though some did not compare to what he had before him. The giant broadsword could easily cut through slabs of thick meat like they were paper and would no doubt cleave a Gryphon’s body in two. The Minotaur behind the weapon remained steady at his task, sharpening the blade to it’s deadliest capacity. He marched past him, knowing he will need their strength in the coming days.

“You’re scared.” A deep ghost of a whisper forced Ebon to stop in his tracks. He whirled around, staring at Ironhide who remained where he was.

“You say something?” he asked, almost seething from the comment. Ironhide stopped in his work, his beady eyes turning to look down at him. He was silent and said nothing, still holding onto his sword and whetstone. The two remained that way for a moment longer before Ironhide turned back to his work and continued to sharpen his blade, the sword shimmering from every brush that glided down its sheen.

“I must be hearing things,” Ebon said to himself. He turned away, leaving the bull to his work while he went to gather his gear.

Within a few hours, he and the entire Gryphon encampment would be packed up and leave for the edge of High Talon Mountains. A single goal was embedded in his mind, and he would see it through to the end.

“Hold on, sister. Your brother will find you,”

Hammer was sweating like a dog. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. His hooves were bent at the knees and he was pushing against a heavy boulder on top of him. His breathing was steady, but every moment he held the boulder, the harder it became to keep his focus. He closed his eyes, the boulder lowering from him laxing.

“C,mon, Hammer! You can do it!” Anvil shouted nearby, and the encouragement was all he needed to push forward. With a renewed surge of energy, he pushed the boulder upward, his muscles tensing as each fiber of his body protested, but he endured and kept pushing up. With a final grunt, he pushed until his hooves were straight up, the boulder over his body as he smiled in victory.

“Fifty!” he shouted out, pushing the stone aside and allowing it to hit the ground with a thud. He stood there and felt exhausted from his exercise. Around him several ponies cheered by his accomplishment, and he slowly rolled over and stood back on all fours, covered in dirt and sweat. He looked down at the boulder and smiled.

It was an old custom by Earth Ponies. To exercise their forelegs and arms, they would push a heavy boulder up whilst laying upon their back. The reason being was when they need to buck trees or to push heavy boulders their strength can push them aside with a single shunt or a strong buck. It was said that it was Commander Hurricane, the military leader of the Pegasus during the founding, had came up with the idea to help ponies when they got to fight in hoof-to-hoof combat. Earth Ponies were more proficient in this, and since then have been using this in their daily routines, even using the exercise to keep their legs strong for any threat to their homes.

He looked to see the next stallion already going to the boulder and lifting it until he laid on his back and began to push it up and down. Around him, a few other stallions were doing the same thing, lifting similar boulders of the same size over their bodies. He even spotted a few Diamond Dogs doing the same thing. Instead of using their legs, they used their massive arms to push up the boulders. He chuckled a bit when he spotted a small Diamond Dog sitting on top of a boulder and the larger Diamond Dog underneath continuing to push it up and down.

Around him everyone was happy and going about their daily business: training, patrolling, and chatting up life stories. The Cervine were firing arrows into snow targets and continued to amaze Hammer with their skills. The grounds had been mostly been cleared of snow except for a few patches here and there, while wet dirt remained underneath them. It was also good since there had been no snow fall this morning and the skies had been mostly clear.

It was actually nice for once to see the sun again.

“C’mon Anvil, you can do it,” the enthusiastic voice of Swift Leaf called out. Hammer turned, seeing his friend starting his own training and lifting the boulder over his body and pushing it up. He had to admit he was far stronger then he was. The two would almost be equal in terms of strength, but ever since their injuries they had pushed past that and continued to train themselves hard. Hammer felt his own muscles be given new sense of relief as he gently stretched them out, particularly when he stretched his wounded shoulder. Day by day, he had felt its strength return, and he knew if he kept at it he would make use of his shoulder again.

“It would help if you would not have your hooves on the rock, Swift Leaf!” Anvil shouted out. Hammer stifled a chuckle as he spotted Swift Leaf’s hooves on top of the rock, holding it down as Anvil pushed up.

A part of him really wanted to see what would happen if Swift Leaf was sitting on the rock. The image left a hilarious mark on his mind.

“Oh, where is the fun in that? You can have a little extra pressure,” she said, her hooves pressing further onto the stone. Anvil’s face contorted slightly, but he still kept doing the exercise.

“Oh, this won’t be good if I end up being flattened. My face would puff out and my scars would stretch further than they already are,” he explained, his face still holding together as he did another push on the boulder. Swift Leaf then released her hooves and walked over to his head. He looked up at her and she beamed at him.

“I’m certain I can heal that,” she said, lowering her head to meet his own, her long hair blocking any view of what happened between their faces.

Hammer’s smile rose a little higher from their growing relationship.

“Even in war, love can blossom,” Hammer heard Strong Oak’s voice nearby. He turned to the Cervine leader, who handed him a small towel. He eagerly accepted and began to clean the sweat and grime off his body as best he could.

“I guess as the war winds down, everypony would be thinking about a family. I’m certainly thinking of one,” Hammer said, his warm thoughts thinking of Silverwing while finishing drying himself off.

Strong Oak went over his side, and a smile radiated off him. “I see that you fancy your captain. Care to share how such a bond formed?” Strong Oak asked.

Hammer smiled, looking down in a bit of embarrassment. “It’s actually a silly thing, really. You would find it rather ridiculous if I told you,” he explained.

Strong Oak chuckled, and leaned his head forward to meet his gaze. “What might make you think of it as ridiculous? There a plenty of stories and romances that start out in more sillier ways then you might think,” he said.

Hammer turned to him. “Oh? You know something that might be more strange occurrences then what I have done?” he asked.

The Cervine leader smiled, looking up to the skies in a moment of clarity. “Well, there was once a time when the young Prince of the Forest from ages past that had not found a suitable mate to call his own. It was much harder for him, for his father had made a rule involving his marriage. For if he booped his nose with any doe, then she would lawfully become his wife. There were many suitors, but none had the affection or care he was looking for. He was also extremely careful and precarious about certain does, for some had greed in their hearts and would have gone great lengths to boop his nose with their own.”

Hammer couldn’t help but chuckle at such a silly thing. It sounded like more of a romantic comedy if given the right characters. He remained silent as Strong Oak continued his tale.

“Saddened, he secluded himself in the flower gardens to ponder over his predicament. He took in his surroundings, thinking about life, why it would be important for him and his rule to his people. Another important thing he wanted was to have something that would best represent his house, which was a strong oak tree that was spread about the forest. His heart felt weary and he knew not how to proceed, his own imaginations for a better tomorrow and for the future leader of his people slipping away. In desperation, he went over to the nearest pile of lilies and thrust his nose into them, hoping that some miracle would give him inspiration.

“What he found instead was another nose booping his own. When his head rose, a small doe rose from the lilies. Auburn hair, cream colored coat, and her eyes that shined bright as the evening star. Embarrassed, the young doe apologized, saying she merely slept in the lilies because she was saddened. When he asked as to why, she explained that she had her coming of age ceremony, and yet only her parents had celebrated. All of her friends and loved ones had instead participated in the Prince’s celebration, and many a doe tried to court him by pressing their nose with his. She felt alone in that her feelings were ignored and hid in the gardens to cry.

“Humbled, and his heart filled with love for the doe, he picked her up out of the lilies and made her his wife. For she had shown that she had no greed in her heart. Like him, she had her own feelings neglected by others and wanted to share her same feelings with another like her. There was an uproar over his marriage, saying that she is a common doe. However, they could not deny the love they bore for one another.” He paused and showed Hammer a small banner that had a strong oak tree in the center, with several beautiful lilies sprouting around the base.

“This here is the symbol of our beloved nation, the flag that we wave across our ramparts for their love and dedication to her people. Such silly bonds or how they came to be is what makes our nation united and above all makes us strong,” he finished, allowing Hammer to marvel at the piece of cloth before him. He didn’t quite believe it, but his little story had tied into one of the strongest symbols within Cervine culture.

“Strong Oak, that was an amazing tale. I had no idea...” he said, a little lost for words.

Strong Oak chuckled at his response. He then leaned in, his smile never wavering. “Now, Corporal Hammer. How did you manage to be smitten by the fair Silverwing?” he asked, his face showing a calm yet patient look.

“Well, it all started when I registered for the army. I was eighteen at the time and my friend Anvil was just a year under me. He managed to convince the observers of his age before they allowed us to go through. Once we were in the training grounds, we continued to work hard and train in the basics of sword fights and spears. I had one such spear in my hoof and I got a little carried away. I tried to be fancy with it and spin it in the air, only for the back end of the spear to smack me in the nose,” he explained, slightly embarrassed. Strong Oak’s smile never wavered and he almost seem to chuckle at the explanation.

“My nose was bleeding and I believed I’d made the biggest fool of myself,” Hammer continued. “I was approached by this lovely mare who happened to care for me at the time. Turns out it was Silverwing, and she was already a few years older than I was. I believe she was twenty one and already a lieutenant at the time. She treated me, cared for me, and she cleaned my muzzle with a small kerchief of hers. After she was done, she left the kerchief with me and went on her way. After that incident, I started to feel infatuated with her. I always wanted to return the kerchief to her, but never had the chance to give it back. Since then my feelings for her have grown and I believe that my feelings...” he paused, seeing Silverwing exit out of her tent giving off a loud yawn from her rest.

“...Has become something more,” he finished.

Strong Oak inclined his head to him. “That is a rather silly story, but no doubt it will lead to a grander resolution,” he explained and patted a hoof onto his good shoulder. “I’m certain that she shares the same sentiment with you,” he explained, and a small blush appeared of his muzzle. He did confess to her several nights ago about his true feelings, but she had never said anything back to him. He only hoped that she did share those feelings with her.

“I see you two are chatting it up,” Silverwing approached them with a small smile on her face. Hammer eyed her, and his heart felt a flutter from seeing her. She has slept far longer this time around, and she looked more rejuvenated than ever before. It’s possible his words had helped her in more ways than one.

“Strong Oak has been enlightening me on some of his stories. I found them rather intriguing,” Hammer explained, and Strong Oak humbly nodded.

“That is good to know. I can also see one of my subordinates being rather intimate with Swift Leaf,” she pointed out and the two looked to see that Swift Leaf had booped her nose with Anvil, the latter giggling from the contact as he strained to hold the boulder. “I do hope they stay in touch when this war is over,” she said.

Strong Oak turned to her. “She will no doubt wish to return to her people, but if her heart is strong, then there is no doubt that she will stay with the one she cares for,” he said.

Hammer looked at him with a smile. “I take it there is no boundaries when it comes to love?” he asked.

Strong Oak chuckled. “Oh, there will be some opposition by some of my traditionalist brethren, but after awhile, there will be no doubt that their life will shine as brightly as the…” He paused, his ears flicking up into the air. “...Stars?” he twisted his head to the skies, his ears moving about in search of a noise.

“Strong Oak? What’s wrong?” Silverwing asked, looking to the sky as well.

“We don’t have a patrol of pegasus out in the air. If we did, they’d be scanning the skies from the East, and occasionally look to the south and northern regions of camp,” Hammer said.

“You are indeed correct, Corporal, and that they are pegasus,” Strong Oak stated as he looked up to the sky. “However, the ones I hear are from the west,” he explained. Both Silverwing and Hammer looked at each other in confusion.

“West?” they both said to one another. They looked up once again, seeing nothing but the mostly clear skies and a few scattered clouds ahead of them. A few more moments passed, the two still staring up into the sky and wondering what they were searching for. Until, they saw them.

Three pegasi flying behind the clouds and circling overhead.

“Are they from another unit?” Hammer asked, seeing the three slowly descend while circling the camp.

“No. Judging by their armor, they look like they are a part of the Royal Guard. Though they are descending rather quickly,” Silverwing observed.

While the three remained locked upon the new visitors descending over their heads, the entire camp become bustling and looked out to the approaching guards. Everypony who was doing anything had dropped what they were doing and came to see what was going on. Equines, Cervine and Diamond Dog alike all came out and looked to the sky to see what was happening. Soon the three hovered over the encampment, their powerful wings blowing the snow out of the way from where they landed.

Although, they almost collapsed from the moment they touched the ground.

Hammer, Silverwing and Strong Oak moved to the new equines and wondered who they are.

“Who’s in charge… of this encampment?” the lead guard spoke, his companions breathing heavily from their exertion of flight.

Silverwing soon stepped forward and raised a hoof to her chest. “I am. My name is Silverwing, Co-Captain of the Royal Guard,” she presented herself with authority and distinction. The three looked to one another and smiles were plastered over their faces.

“This is the last of them,” the guard on the right with an orange mane spoke out.

“The last group that is outside of Prancy,” the left guard with a striped-blue, indigo mane replied.

“Settle down, lads…Catch your breaths,” the lead guard spoke, catching his own breath in the process.

Hammer felt a tap on the shoulder and saw the camp’s cook hand him a wineskin. He nodded and took it, going to the lead guard before him. He gave the wineskin and the guard quickly brought it to his lips, the liquid soothing his throat. After a few guzzling drinks, he sighed and passed it to one of his subordinates, who eagerly accepted it.

“Thank you… Corporeal. We had a long flight to find you all,” he explained.

Silverwing took a step forward. “What brings you out here so far from Prancy?” she asked.

“We’re here to bring you home, under orders from the Monarchs Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. Along with the heads of the Equestrian armies generals, including the hero So…”

“Leave?” Silverwing interject, making the messenger blink in surprise. “We’ve been out here for nearly two months and we are close to our goal. I have to rescue my brother who has been taken to enemy lines, and I will not allow him to be taken from me. He even might have information that could threaten our patrols and armies should the Griffons come for us,” she explained, her mission ever true in Hammer’s eyes.

The messenger swallowed a lump in his throat and stood up from where he landed.

“You don’t know… you don’t know what has happened,” he said astounded.

Silverwing furrowed her brow and snorted in irritation. “We know of the Griffon army that is marching towards Prancy and are most likely besieging the city. But we’re too far from the main lines to help in anyway shape or form that would turn the tide of battle.”

“The battle is already over… Captain,” the messenger stated, causing her to pause and making the encampment become silent over his words.

After an uneasy moment, it was Silverwing who broke the silence. “What…. what do you mean? Is the battle lost?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Hammer could only wonder what the messenger was implying. He swallowed another lump in his throat and shook his head to her.

“No…. the bastard king Bronzeclaw has been slain at the Battle of Prancy…. his army swiftly surrendered thereafter. I’m here to let you know that you are to come home.

“The war is over.”

Author's Note

There we have it. Another chapter for you all. Much has been revealed and only time will tell what the new developments would bring. Stay tuned for more chapters to come.

Art for this chapter was made by the ever talented DiscoredtheGe. I can't thank him enough for his art work in my story.

Also in the art is the ever talent Margony! Her artwork for this has been stupendous and I just love how she draws the characters.

That is all for now and I will see you all in the next chapter. Leave comments down below about your thoughts and I will get to them soon.

The Art of Preening

Hammer blinked in surprise. He cast his gaze upon the other camp inhabitants, all sharing equally stunned faces and disbelief.

The war was over.

“The griffons ...surrendered?” he heard Anvil spoke, his voice breaking through the silence. A few moments later, as if lifted from a spell, the entire camp began to cheer. They cried out in victory, raising their hooves and paws into the air while others hugged their comrades and shouted in praise. Even the Diamond Dogs themselves looked pleased by the news, some dancing a little jig and spinning around in each others’ arms in childish glee. Shadow Hunter tried to settle them down, but his voice was shouted down by the pure joy the company was expressing.

Hammer felt happy for them, knowing that everything that they have gone through had finally ended.

The only sole equine who remained still and silent was Silverwing.

“The war is over?” she questioned the messenger, astonished.

The messenger nodded. “Yes. Roughly three days ago, the foolish king lead the army at the forefront upon the city of Prancy. They were disciplined for sure, but there was no doubt many lacked experience in fighting. While leading the charge upon the main walls, he was shot in the neck by a stray arrow from a Blacksmith’s son, and soon after the army began to panic. We then quickly surrounded the entirety of their forces, threatening to end their lives the same way as their king. Within an hour the army raised the white banners and surrendered without incident. Though there were few who were adamant of keeping up the fight, trying to rally their warriors, but their spirits were too broken to continue the fight.

“A day after the battle, we got word that messengers were flying toward the city and that their leaders of their capital had rebelled against his rule and that a civil war broke out amongst their city streets. They gained ground and swiftly took control, and now wished to negotiate a peace treaty. Myself and a dozen others were then ordered to search for any pockets of our forces scattered about on the outskirts of the city. We’ve been flying non stop in the clearer weather for the past two days. Your company is the final one that has ventured this far and so close to the enemy’s borders,” he explained, allowing his words to sink in to their minds.

Hammer could see that Silverwing was beside herself. He didn't know what was going on through her mind, but he began to worry about why she was not overjoyed by this news. She swallowed a lump in her throat and composed herself before speaking again.

“But what of our mission? We must retrieve lieutenant Quicksilver back from the enemy, before he is lost,” she explained, Hammer saw the fear growing in her eyes. His happy demeanor from earlier had been replaced with great concern with her.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” the messenger spoke, lifting his hoof in assurance, “It’s not my decision here. You are ordered to return home with everypony else. I’m certain that once the griffon leaders come to speak with Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, they can negotiate with the transfer of prisoners. I’m certain that he will-”

“But that could take months!” Silverwing interjected. Some of the cheering guards and allies had quieted down from her outburst, and all eyes were set upon her. “He can be anywhere within those mountains, and if I don’t get him back, he will be taken away from us, or even worse: To be killed and left upon their doors as a warning to all outsiders! I will not let my brother be taken away!” she explained.

The messenger blinked uneasily from her outburst. “I’m sorry but I’m certain that he will be safe and-”

“How can you be so certain!? He’s the only family I have left! I can’t spend my time waiting, knowing he is still being treated horribly! I can’t just pick up everything and leave knowing my company and I have come so far!” she pleaded. Hammer felt his heart burn for her and her mission, but if the news was to be to be true and the war truly over, then they would have to go back.

“Captain Silverwing, I’m not the enemy here. I’m only here to explain the situation and the orders you are given. You can return to the city within a week or two if you keep a narrow path. I’m certain that your company will need the time to rest with a roof over their heads, including your...” He paused, casting a gaze to the Diamond Dogs among the throng of warriors. A few waved at him nonchalantly, giving off welcoming smiles, but it only made the messenger curl a brow at them. “...Your allies,” he finished, but Silverwing was not backing down. She stomped a hoof into the ground, her eyes glaring daggers at the messenger.

“I will not abandon my brother to die!” she shouted, but the messenger didn’t shun away from her verbal display.

“I’m sorry for your brother, I truly am, but you are given orders.” He pulled a paper from his sack and gave the parchment to her. She immediately seized it and began reading, her eyes darting over each word that felt like daggers into her body. Hammer could see the anger in her eyes losing their luster and she looked more defeated with every moment.

“You are required to leave and reunite with the main army and await further instructions. Failure to comply would lead to insubordination and a demotion of your rank,” He paused and removed his helm and rested it over his heart before continuing, “I’m truly sorry. These are just orders from high command,” he explained.

Silverwing lifted a wing to him. “No…no. You’re just doing your job,” she said, letting the parchment fall from her hooves. “Please, take the time to rest before your return back to Prancy, and relay my words that my company will be returning,” she said, lowering her head and heading off towards her tent.

Hammer took a step toward her, already knowing that a cloud hung over her head over the news. He watched as Equines, Cervine, and Diamond Dogs parted a path for her. Hammer took a tentative step forward and watched as Silverwing went back into her tent. A few within the camp went back to their duties or began talking amongst themselves, but many stood and kept their eyes on their Captain’s tent.

Hammer eyed the messenger as he and his companions headed to the mess hall, likely to get a warm meal from their long travel. He looked at the parchment on the ground and saw the Insignia of the two sisters placed upon it. Whatever was written inside bore all the truth of their orders.

The war was truly over, yet why did he feel that only Silverwing had lost?

Feeling the sudden urge to see her, he made his way over to his tent. However, he saw a number of the guards and militia members eyeing him. Along with them, the Cervine had their ears back and eyes locked onto the tent, while he heard a few of the Diamond Dogs whine in discomfort. He felt the whole of their world had collapsed, and all he could think about was making sure that Silverwing was alright.

Without another word he went inside the tent, trepidation gripping him as he looked upon Silverwing. He blinked once when he spotted her, but she was no longer wearing her cloak. The fabric was tossed to the side while she sat on her bedroll, and a hoof pulled on the edge of the blankets. His heart felt a twinge of pain and he took another precarious step towards her.

“Silverwing?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle. Silverwing still kept staring forward, ignoring him as she lay on her haunches and wanted to bury herself in the covers.

“It’s unfair,” she mumbled. He remained silent, seeing her head bend down and her wings droop. She was shaking, her feathers bristling from every sudden tremor. He took an uneasy step forward, a hoof raised to her in the hope that he could comfort her in some way. He pressed a hoof onto her back, her fur vibrating upon impact.

Then without warning, she whipped around and wrapped her hooves around his midsection.

“It’s unfair… It’s unfair!” she began to cry out, her body quivering while she sobbed into his coat. Without a word Hammer wrapped his hooves around her body, his arms pulling her in as she cried. He lowered his muzzle over her mane while she wept into his chest. She continued to sob, and small hiccups would come soon after. After so long holding her guard and being strong in front of her company, the mare before Hammer had broken down to a crying filly.

“Quicksilver… My little Silver… I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I can’t… I can’t...” she bawled, her eyes closed and her ears flat against her head. Hammer tightened his grip around her frame, while she continued to cry so loudly he swore it would be heard throughout the camp. He didn't know if she cared if they heard her. She rubbed her muzzle deeper into his chest, Hammer still trying to comfort her as best he could.

It was the only thing he could do for the one he loved.

“Gretchen? How much further before we get there?” he asked, taking precarious steps down the old path.

“We’ll be there soon, Fletching. It’s not that far,” she explained, walking ahead of him.

“That’s what you said an hour ago,” he replied. A little annoyance grew within him and the load he carried on his back.

“Trust me… it will be worth it,” she retorted, her front paws clearing the snow in front as they made their trek down.

Quicksilver sighed as he recalled the events that lead them to this point. Back at the cabin, they worked diligently in moving the bodies onto the pyre. After it was done, they set the bodies ablaze, their ashes being lifted to the sky and scoured across the land. Quicksilver and Gretchen then gathered their supplies for their journey. The rations and some gear they removed from the Gryphons were useful for the road ahead. Quicksilver gathered General Quill’s journal and the letter to his wife so that he may keep with him. There was no telling when they would need it, in the event that Equestria would demand justice over what has happened to Prancy.

He was certain they would understand when they had the evidence placed before them.

Along with the book and letter, he carried with him the general supplies they had for their journey. They still had the boar meat they’d not cooked up yet, and they managed to scavenge around the cabin’s pantry, despite it being rather barren. The few valuable items they found was some flour, garlic, salt, and strawberry jam, though they didn’t have anything else for it. It would be good to add some flavor to the meat they had, but Quicksilver wished for some carrots or even apples. But in Gryphon country, he would have to make due with what they had.

Despite the food rations they had they still had the blanket that Lupin had given them, which has been rather useful for keeping them warm, although, currently Gretchen was wearing it at the moment. He didn’t mind; she had already been through much since this morning, and since he carried some of the gear already and long trek they had it was actually keeping him warm for the most part. Despite that luxury item, the final thing he carried was her music box . She was quite adamant in keeping it, and he wouldn’t deny her request.

While he carried the items in his pack, Gretchen carried her uncle’s belongings. Namely, the cloak, sword and armor that belonged to him. He could hazard a guess, but he could only presume that she wanted momentos of her uncle to bring to her family.

He felt a twinge of pain go through his heart from the thought, knowing when they got out of the mountains they would have to part ways. He didn’t want to keep her away from her family, but at the same time, he felt the need to be there for her. The loss of her uncle weighed heavily on her mind, and Quicksilver would give her the space she needed if she ever said so. Yet despite his death and burial, she still seemed her usual self.

How strong she must be right now, to move on from such pain.

After walking for another few minutes, he looked to the sky above them. The sun was set on the other side of the mountains, the light of the sun gracing their warmth upon the peaks. A deep mist seemed to form the closer they got to the bottom of the mountain. They had both traveled down an old goat path that was behind the cabin, but he could only imagine it being used very rarely, since the Gryphons can fly to their destinations. He breathed a heavy sigh, looking in front of him as Gretchen continued to trek on. Since this morning and the many hours since they traveled, he wondered if they were any closer to their destination.

As the sky slowly darkened and night came over them, he found himself preferring to be under a roof by the time it got too dark to see.

“You know, for taking a bath in the mountains, I expected this place to be much closer. Not traversing for miles on end,” he explained, hefting the load on his back.

“It’s actually much closer than you think,”Gretchen said, turning around a bend. “Besides, if we’d taken everything by flight, we would have been there within an hour. However, we had to take time with everything back at the cabin. Besides, since your wings are not fully healed, you would have been dead weight for me to carry,” she explained, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He snorted his dissatisfaction. “Well, it better be worth it,” he said, turning the bend with her only to bump into her back a second later. He blinked and saw that she was looking up ahead. He looked past her and his mouth gaped.

“Like I said, we have arrived,” she stated, marching down the steps.

Quicksilver was looking at the giant mouth of a Gryphon, its beak wide open and water gushing out of its mouth. The waterfall thundered down to the land below, a low hum from the constant torrent of water. He felt heat come onto his cheeks, and he could see steam go into the sky above. He wondered how he didn’t hear the noise before now, but he could only assume they had to be close to hear the majestic sounds. A strange, heavy smell hung in the air, one that he could not describe.

“C’mon, Fletching. The hot springs await,” Gretchen called out, waiting at the entrance of the cave just underneath the waterfall. He quickly followed, his gear jangled as he got to her side. Gretchen chuckled at the sight of the bumbling Equine, who still gaped in amazement at the Gryphon beak before him. Once he was at her side, she searched his pack.

“If you’re curious, that Gryphon there is my ancestor. His name was Griswold the Builder. He was instrumental in my family’s legacy by helping shape the very foundations of the Gryphon Empire. Many of the fancy buildings and architecture still standing in the great cities were his doing,” she said as she pulled two torches from the pack and began to light them up.

“So how is his legacy way out here than in the city streets of Gryphonstone?” he asked, still keeping his gaze up to the Gryphon face.

“He wanted his final days to be out here, on the fringes of the Gryphon Empire. Besides, some greedy Nobles never gave him his personal due and he decided to leave them in favor of leaving his own legacy. He devoted his life in building this hot spring, which was located near a dormant volcano known as Mount Everpeak. When he eventually passed away, his sons and grandsons took it upon themselves to finish his project. What you see is the enduring result of his spirit,” she explained.

Quicksilver marveled at the stone face once more. He looked out to where the stone face was staring and he was able to catch a glimpse of the plains of Prancy and all its glory. No doubt it would get a lot of attention for such a grand display, but he could only assume as to why there was no other Gryphons here.

“I guess since he built this place as a family secret?” he asked, turning back to Gretchen who offered a lit torch. He grabbed it with his right hoof and she gestured towards the cave.

“A family secret that not even the king or his subjects know about,” Gretchen said with a smile. She then proceeded to go into the cave, with the onlooking pegasus following behind her.

“But that's a huge face in the mountains. How come no one has seen it?” he asked.

“Well, only a select few and their families know about this place. It’s far in the mountains and no Gryphon wants to venture out into untamed lands,” she explained. The two proceeded in silence, the light from outside fading and the light of the torches guiding their way. The further they went, the more heat he could feel coming from within. For once he started to feel warmer inside than when he did out in the wilds. After a minute of walking, the room opened up into a large cavern. He could see light smoke emitting in the room and the smell was much heavier within.

“Here,” Gretchen said, holding the blanket that she had wrapped on before and handed to him. He took it and settled onto his pack, while Gretchen went over to set a small torch on the wall nearby on fire.

“There are small sconces around the walls. Light the ones on the bottom while I get the ones above, Fletching,” she explained. She expanded her wings, taking to the air and heading to the nearest torch upon the wall. Quicksilver deposited his gear next to hers and went to the closest torch he could find. What he found was a small bowl that had water inside. Curiosity got to him and he placed a hoof into the bowl. He brought the substance to his mouth and tasted it, but quickly spat out onto the ground.

“Oil?” he said, looking back down into the substance within. How has it managed to last this long? he thought. He lit the torch and moved onto the next one. He cast a glance and saw Gretchen lighting more spots around the room, revealing more and more of the grandeur of the hot spring.

The room was massive to say the least, rising high into the air by at least twenty feet while it stretched for at least several hundred feet in either direction. It was a large spacious room, where in the center of it lied the large hot spring. The edges were covered in some sort of marble that wrapped around the edge of the pool, and there was a long narrow water way that came out of the wall sending a constant flow of water through the pool and out toward parts unknown.

He was no architect, but he could only imagine that this Griswold was a genius for making this.

He turned and continued his work with lighting the torches up the wall, revealing more and more of the interior within. While he did this, he took note of elaborate drawings of Gryphons upon the walls. Each one seemed to tell a story, depicting them in a multitude of activities like fierce battle, trading or practicing philosophy. There were so many stories here, yet none he could decipher.

Once he got the last few sconces lit up, he went to the center of the room, marveling at what was around him.

He was looking at a mosaic of drawings and art that belonged to Gryphon culture. Seeing the walls lit up by the given light, he could see the three tribes of Gryphons all gathered, working out some sort of plan. On the wall to his right, he could see black creatures with blue eyes charging at them while they held their halberds in a defensive square formation. He’d heard the tales of Changelings and their cluster of hives that surrounded the land before, but he didn't know that Changelings also fought against the Gryphons in their lands as well.

The next picture on his right showed a king being anointed and crowned by what appeared to be an Arch-Gryphon and a host of Gryphons all bowing to the king.

“That was King Grover,” Gretchen said. “He was the first king nearly five hundred years ago who united the gryphon kingdom. It was through his courageous actions against the Changelings that tried to take our lands in ages past, to make our people whole. We had never been more united than any other Gryphon king after him,” Gretchen explained, lighting the final torches on the end of the room. “He and his sons after him united the people and kept the peace for many centuries. It was only after his reign and the bloodline ending though one of their daughters and resort to a marriage by the nomad Claw family. You would known them as none other than King Ravenclaw and his son Bronzeclaw.”

Quicksilver mumbled a reply, but his mind was focused on the family. He had no idea that after so many centuries of peace that they began to become militarized.

“I don’t think you know this Fletching, but after he assumed power, Ravenclaw began to expand our kingdoms reach, seizing fiefdoms and claiming all sovereign houses under his rule. Once he ensured the control and loyalty of all Gryphons did he finally encounter your species,” she explained, slowly flying down until she landed near him. The air became slightly cool from the breeze she created. Her torch was settled upon a nearby wall and she looked up to see the painting around them. “A few skirmishes later, the king and his retinue of warriors came to your capital and demanded to speak with your king. From there, from what I remember hearing, is that Ravenclaw died in a fight against a black unicorn and your king and his brother were killed, which lead to this war we know fight on,” she explained.

He solemnly nodded. King Solaris and his brother in-law Osiris, the brother to the late Queen Selena, the mother of both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. They were both killed on that day, and the outrage and pure hatred of the Gryphons ensued. They were so beloved that his people dedicated several national holidays, honoring them for being kind and just leaders that lead their nation into a prosperous kingdom.

Now, after twenty years of war, it felt like a lifetime ago.

“I guess it can’t just go away that easily, huh?” Quicksilver said.

Gretchen nodded in turn. “The only thing we can focus on is moving forward,” she explained, sitting on her haunches and looking out to the art around them. Quicksilver scanned his eyes around the walls, seeing the different pictures depicting different events that took place in their time and space. He also noticed that some walls have been left blank; no doubt when future Gryphons come here, they will add their history to these walls. He gave a little smile, seeing such rich history and lore upon these walls.

His eyes stopped on one piece, however, when he saw a multiple Gryphons attacking several monsters that infringed upon their lands.

“What is that one, those creatures on the wall?” Quicksilver pointed, and Gretchen followed his gaze. She shuddered from that image and shook her head.

“That right there is a cyclops, and they are the enemies of all Gryphons,” she explained. Quicksilver took another gander back at the stone painting. The cyclops, as they were called with their distinct eye, were monstrous creatures, easily standing over all Gryphons by several stories in height, possibly thirty feet or more. Their bodies were covered in fur, and they ranged in multiple colors. Tracing up their bodies they spread outward into a muscular chest and massive arms that were the size of tree trunks. They had four sharp talons and several golden bands that wrapped around their wrists. Their heads were shaped like a goat, with massive hair forming in braids on either side, and two horns that curl backwards.

The most striking thing that made them all the more intimidating was their single eye. The eye was pure yellow with a black pupil going sideways. It was as if the moment its eyes locked onto you, you could never escape its gaze.

Looking at the creatures and their size shook Quicksilver to his core.

“Several centuries ago, the cyclops emerged and began spreading like wildfire. It was said they were monstrous creatures, and their appearances were so abhorrent that anyone caught in their gaze would tremble in fear. They lusted after our gold, and would raid our lands and plunder it’s wealth. But even after they seized every coin and gem, their lust for it was never sated, and they would threaten our inner kingdom, to the heart of Gryphonstone itself. It was only the strong actions by King Grado the Great, that rallied our armies into a united force that they fought back against them. After countless but costly victories against them did they finally retreat back to their lands, but the damage was already done. It took several generations until the lands were completely healed and the wealth began to flow once more.

“Yet we are always patrolling, ensuring they don’t plunder our lands as they once did in the past. We haven’t discovered another one of their kind in many centuries, and we mean to keep it that way, even if we are stuck in this war,” she explained.

Quicksilver was in awe of such a tale. He could only imagine the stories that their elders had talked about such beasts, or even if they continued on the legend of what had happened. He’d hate to think that their younger generations would forget about such events that took place. It made him fear if such creatures would return again to haunt them.

While he contemplated on such things, he heard Gretchen shuffle in place. He took a glance at her, and saw her merely stretch her wings. He looked back to the wall painting, wanting to get a longer look at the drawn battle. However, the momentary glance of her made him take another look, where she was dropping her gear and settling on the ground. Her back arched out and made a few audible pops before she went towards the hot spring. She settled a claw in the pool, flicking it a few times to test the heat, before slowly placing the other claw inside.

“Ah, Gretchen…. What are you doing?” Quicksilver said, seeing how Gretchen was taking her time in entering the hot spring. She turned to him, and he could see her ruffling her feathers outward to their greatest height.

“I’m going to bathe, same as you.” She paused, then smirked at him. “You do swim do you?” she asked, her feathered wings flustering out before she went into the pool.

“Oh, I swim…pretty girl,” Quicksilver replied, still gawking at her. “Ah, pretty well! Pretty well! I swim pretty well,” he quickly corrected and blushed a little, hoping she somehow didn’t hear his little comment. The water splashed and Gretchen immersed herself into the warm waters. Her sighs drifted from her until she was buried into its depths. Quicksilver blinked in mild realization, his mind processing what was before him and while he stared back at the gear that she had placed to the side.

I’m going to be taking a bath with Gretchen, he thought, trying to get the mental image clear in his head. He eyed back to Gretchen, who eagerly splashed and soaked herself completely in the hot spring. He went over to her gear, trepidation with each hesitant step. Often times, it would be by himself cleaning himself, or when he was back with fellow companions and they all shared the same space to clean themselves in a nearby lake or some other water source.

Right now, he was going to take a bath with a girl. Not only that, but with a Gryphon.

He kept thinking that he ought to wait, taking his time until he could bathe separately. However, the way that she said that they bathe together made it all the more conflicting for him. Why does she feel more calm than the days prior? Was it something that broke through her after he saved her from the wolves? Or was it when he had comfort her after the loss of her uncle? The questions were piling in his head, the uneasy gut feeling within him.

And the dream he had.

That damn dream that made him confess that he loved her. Was it really his true feelings or was it something else altogether? Could it be what his heart tell’d him?

“Come on in, fletching! The water is fantastic!” she called out, splashing in the waters nearby, sending rippling shock waves all across the pool. Quicksilver stiffened his resolve and slowly took off all of the gear he carried. Settling the pack of supplies and the warm blanket onto the ground, he turned to face her. But he paused when he felt something brush against him and hung around his neck. He looked down, examining the items he held.

The one crystal given to him by Felix, the stone by the Thestrals, and the medallion from General Quill.

Each item had helped him along his journey. The crystal, healing Gretchen in her greatest need. The thestral’s stone, helping them make the fires during the long cold nights. Lastly the medallion, the same one General Quill had on his person for the longest time.

I hope it will be of use when I return home, Quicksilver thought. For the General and Gretchen’s sake.
The more he thought about them, the more the items seemed to garner more value. For each one had helped Gretchen during their time together. He believed, in some strange way, they had somehow brought them together.

And that is what terrified him.

“Fletching! Are you going to make me drag you inside?” Gretchen called out. Quicksilver quickly removed the items off his neck, and placed them within his pack. He took a steady breath and headed towards the pool. When he stood near the water's edge, he took a look inside. The water looked warm and welcoming, and the air around him seemed to heat up the closer he got. He saw Gretchen swimming nearby and she seemed to enjoy the warm waters. He closed his eyes, letting one foot to go into the pool. His hoof was met with a greater heat within the hot spring. It felt like a warm bath but adding a strong heat deeper within, and he seemed to grow all the more warmer.

“Fletching?” he heard Gretchen and he opened his eyes, only to blink when he saw her standing in front of him. Her head was sticking out of the water, her feathers drenched in the water and a look of concern to her. He took a step back and looked away, his cheeks burning a little from her gaze. “What is the matter?” she spoke out, her voice carrying much concern. He looked to her and his mouth hung open to speak, but he could not find the proper words.

“Well...er I…. I don’t really...” he began to say, unsure how to proceed. He rubbed a hoof on the back of his neck, while Gretchen looked puzzled over his insecurities. He knew that what he was about to say next was ridiculous and may sound borderline childish.

“What? Out with it,” she asked.

She’s probably going to have a laugh over this, he groaned inwardly.

“Well, I think it’s a little unfathomable being in this situation, and I remember taking baths by myself and well… it’s a little unprecedented if not unimaginable that this has come to this...” he explained, but she narrowed her eyes to him.

“Just spit it out,” she said a little forcibly.

“I never took a bath with a girl before.”

Silence permeated between the two, and the only white noise they heard was the rushing water and the flickering of the torches.

A small, noticeable smirk rose from Gretchen and it soon plastered itself on her face until she began to blow out air. She then began to laugh and she lifted her head up in clear enjoyment, while Quicksilver looked to the side and a shade of red was present on his face. Her laughter echoed around the chamber, amplifying her guffaw ever higher. Quicksilver felt he should bury his head in the snow outside, but soon her laughter stopped and her breath came out in a tittering wheeze.

“Are you serious? You’re nervous because you don’t want to bath with a girl? That is so unbelievable!” she chortled, raising a talon over head. “You’ve slept by my side and yet when it comes to bathing your nervous?” she cackled once more, before pointing a finger at him. “Let me guess: the last time was with your mother?” she said, still chortling.

Quicksilver narrowed his eyes and took a stand. “Yes… well, no! My mother cleaned me, only when I was a colt. The last time I got a bath was with my sister when she-” Quicksilver instantly regretted opening his mouth. Gretchen’s eyes narrowed and she burst out laughing. She clutched at her sides while her wings rose a bit from her uproar, while Quicksilver began to feel really small in the moment. Her chortle soon calmed down and she looked up to see that Quicksilver was still silent and looking away.

“If you want to know,” Gretchen began, her wings lowering back down to her sides. “It’s more common for us Gryphons to bath together, if that helps ease your mind,” she said.

Quicksilver looked back to her, still unsure and frankly more nervous despite her reassurances.

“I don’t know, just… I can wait for you to finish and then I’ll be able to take care of my own cleaning,” he explained, still looking away from her. After a moment of silence, he dared turned to look at her, only to see that her head had lowered into the waters and all he could see was her golden eyes and the top of her feathers. He then noticed her hind legs begin to rise out of the water.

“Gretchen?” he asked, unsure what she was doing. Her eyes were focused on him and he saw the water shimmer in the water. Quicksilver curled an eyebrow from seeing her hind legs wiggle in the water, ready to strike out.

And then it occurred to him.

“Gretchen? What are-” he began to say until she lunged at him.

Like a beast onto its prey, her body exploded out of the spring, sending water everywhere in all directions. Her two arms went up and around his neck, holding him tightly as his body pressed into her wet chest. Then in an instant she pulled him back, his body flipping up and over her and towards the hot spring.

“Yoooooooooooouuuuuuu-” he shouted out before going silent within the warm waters with a mighty splash.

Heat instantly encompassed him, his bones feeling the rush of warmth from the waters. He felt Gretchen's arms release him and he kicked a few times in the water before he righted himself up. He felt the ground beneath him and found that it was quite shallow. He lifted his head and coughed up water once he was above the water line. The heat radiated around him and the blood in his body pulsated from the warm temperatures. He slowly but surely was able to adjust to it, despite it alerting his senses. He coughed once more, wiping some of his mane out his face to get a better look, and he could see Gretchen right in front of him, her eyes still hovering above the water line. He narrowed his eyes and coughed once more.

“Gretchen! You should have warned me!” he called out. Gretchen said nothing, her golden eyes still staring up at him. He stared back, locking his eyes with her own and wondered how mesmerizing they were. He sighed and coughed a bit of water out of his lungs before continuing where he left off.

“You’d think that... two reasonable adults… are little old to play childish games, don’t you think?” he explained.

The moment he finished, she lifted her head and spat into his face, the water splashing into him and making him flinch from contact. He opened up his eyes to stare back at her and saw her smiling at him.

He smiled back and a single chuff turned into laughter. He then lifted a hoof and smacked the water, sending a heavy amount of towards her. She responded in kind and gleefully protected herself while splashing warm water in his direction.

The two were now locked in an epic battle of water war, splashing and shoving water in each other’s direction and trying to become the dominant creature of the hot spring. The battle escalated when she used her wings to scoop up a bowl of water and send the water bombardment onto his head. Quicksilver was drenched in the water and he backed away, trying to escape from the losing battle. He couldn’t counter with his own wings, so he had no choice but to forfeit the fight, but not after sending one last cascade of water in her direction, which had moderate success. Gretchen didn’t seem to want it to end, and she began to chase him in the pool. He immediately took notice and began running around the pool, kicking up water as he galloped off and away from the approaching Gryphon.

He was suddenly kicking in the water, his neck and parts of his wings being above the water while he was submerged. He was no longer in shallow waters, and he turned around to see Gretchen already on him, talons outstretched to meet him. He gave a yelp when she wrapped her talons around his neck and clung to him.

The two then looked at one another, his muzzle close to her beak. For a brief moment, he was captivated by her golden eyes. The two then shared a laugh over their childish game and the two soon separated, dipping deeper into the water to relax.

For a time that felt like hours, the two swam in the pool in silence, the warmth of the pool soothing their weary bones and aching muscles. Quicksilver realized he’d never felt a relaxing bath such as this, and he felt all of his woes and pains seep away from the bath. Every passing second to every minute, his body seemed to slacken and he allowed his wings to take up space in the waters. He would occasionally glance over to Gretchen, who would swim around the pools in circular motions. She in turn would look over to him and she would give a sideways smile before again swimming at the same pace as before. He followed her movements for a few moments, watching as she flicked her body one way while the waters shifted to the other. Feeling keen on the movements, he soon joined in with her.

The two began a strange yet eloquent dance inside the waters, swimming opposite and at times alongside each other. The movements they made were uncoordinated, and yet they seem to flow more as the two found a rhythm in the warm waters. He kicked and swam in the waters, countering her every movement that she had made, and she in turn did the same. The same uneasy feeling that he had before had washed away, replaced with a sense of calm if not relaxation that he didn’t think he would experience.

He pushed further in the water, his legs kicking in the deep end of the pool. He soon was alongside Gretchen this time, and he brushed up against her as she swam by his side. He turned to cast his gaze on her, and she did the same. The two locked eyes, entranced in this strange dance that they’d been doing. The heat of the waters seemed dull now as he continued to swim by her side. They swam in a circle, their legs carrying them as they continued to move. In a brief moment, deep in his heart, he didn’t feel that uneasiness or fear from before. He instead felt something more growing inside of him.

After another moment, Gretchen peeled off from him and turned to the left, while he pivoted right. He turned around and saw that Gretchen was going deeper into the water until she had completely vanished. He blinked once, wondering what she was doing, until she exploded out of the water at a rapid pace. He blinked once to see her in the air.

And what he saw took his breath away.

Gretchen went straight into the air, her head flown back and sending tiny droplets of water in all directions. Her wings expanded to great lengths, so far that he could have sworn they touched the ceiling. Her mouth was open to a smile, so genuine that it could have looked like it came out of a painting. Her body had twisted slightly and her curved underbelly was visible to all to see. The water that stuck to her body cascaded down her like a multilayer waterfall and rain seemed to flow off her body, creating an eloquent and memorizing scene before him.

Beautiful, he mouthed the words as she descended down into the pool to create a loud splash into the waters. The water soon came up and splashed him in the face, causing his long uncut mane to fall down over his eyes. Once the water was still, he pushed a hoof in front to part away the mane. What lies behind his sight was Gretchen rising up from the water to take a breath, her chest heaving up and down and her feathers seeming to shine in the given light. There was something that caught Quicksilver’s eyes about her and he could not take his eyes off. He couldn’t describe it in mere words, but there was a light that seemed to shine bright off her frame.

It was what drew him in more and more to her.

Gretchen eventually relaxed and looked over to him, their eyes locking once more before the two sharing a quiet laugh before immersing themselves into the pools waters. Quicksilver allowed his back to float on top of the waters, his wings being stretched out to a comfortable position within the waters. His wings stung from time to time, but they were mostly moot to the point of being unburdensome. He took a breath, his body soaked by the warm waters, and he cast a glance to Gretchen, who was equally submerged into the waters. Her wings were equally stretched out, and he could have sworn that the tips of his feathers had brushed with hers. Whether she felt them or didn’t share her objection, he couldn’t tell, and he allowed it to happen. She had floated near him, her head just above his own, and the two remained silent for the time in the hot spring.

A part of him wished this would never end.

Eventually, Gretchen was the first to speak out.

“I think that’s enough,” she said, rising out of the water and standing up on her legs. She arched her back and stretched upward like a cat, and Quicksilver caught sight of it. He blushed and stood up from his position, the water dripping down his body and his bones soothed by the warm waters. Gretchen walked up and out of the pool, her claws carrying her out of the water. Her feathers ruffled up a little, shaking about like a wet dog. Her tail soon flicked out the last of the water and took a few steps out to stretch again.

Quicksilver, seeing this and the tail swishing about, had other ideas.

Quicksilver slowly followed her out of the water, the waters splashing slightly as he exited and the humid air hanging all around him. Gretchen still looked forward and continued to sigh from her stretch, her tail still flopping from side to side from her small ministrations. Quicksilver crouched low behind her, his back arched low and his own teeth open in a playful grin. Once he was behind her, her tail the prize, he waited patiently. He knew from previous experience that pulling her tail lead to a bad confrontation. Instead, he was focused on having a playful moment with her.

“Gretchen,” he playfully spoke with baited breath. She cocked her head to the side to meet him.

“Yes?” she said and her eyes turned to stare at him. Her tail had risen from her movements.

He had her now.

Without another word he clasped his teeth onto the tip of her tail and gently pulled it.

Gretchen squawked, her wings expanding out in surprise as she was pulled back. Quicksilver arched his neck and pulled it up higher, letting Gretchen's sharp cry echoed around the room. He let go just quickly as he grabbed it and Gretchen turned around and looked rather flustered, clutching her tail and staring in surprise at Quicksilver. He blinked mildly, a bit shocked by her reaction and seeing her stare at him like that. He surprised himself that he even did it in the first place. After an unpleasant moment between them, his ears fell flat and he raised his hooves defensively.

“I’m sorry. I was just playing and-” he paused, seeing her expression change from surprise to eager. She lets go of her tail and stands on all fours. She hunched her body forward and her hind legs rose up. A small smile grew on her face as her talons kneaded into the stone floor and her body shifting ever so slightly. Her rump wiggled from side to side ,and her wings did a few test flaps on the side. Her body soon tensed and it was in that moment Quicksilver knew what was happening.

He bucked up.

“Gretchen!” he cried out, his own smile rising from her infectious grin, as she lunged at him. He rose up to meet her, standing on his back legs as his own hooves was already open for her. Within a single moment, her chest smacked into his with deadly precision, her arms wrapping around his body and holding him tight. He in turn by instinct wrapped his own hooves around her. Momentum carried the two of them backwards and for a split second, he sharply cried out in mock horror as the two fell back into the warm waters. It was in that briefest of moments that he could have sworn that she still smiled.

They splashed into the pool, sending water everywhere when they went in. Both were encompassed in soaking water from head to toe. The splash softened the impact, and Quicksilver found his back pressing into the shallow end of the hot spring. His head rose up, with the Gryphon hen standing over him. He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing Gretchen’s golden eyes looking down on him. The two shared a laugh as they looked into each other’s eyes, but the mirth soon subsided as they held one another, loss in each other’s eyes. He watched as her feathers glistened from the water and Quicksilver was admiring her even more. For the briefest time, he felt protected in her claws, and he wondered if she in turn felt the same with his hooves wrapped around her.

She then smiled and gave a small giggle, which was something he never thought she would do. She then lowered her beak, nipping at the top of his mane, tussling it’s wet surface with her beak. He smiled in return, accepting the little stimulation, even wrapping his own hooves tighter around her in acceptance. He lifted his own head upward, brushing his cheek with her own and softly nuzzled into her feathers. He then turned his head and gave the most tinest pecks on her cheek, her feathers brushing on his lips. She suddenly gasped from this and her head lifted up away from him, her golden eyes staring at him. He looked up at her and realized his mistake.

He blinked once, his mind processing what had occurred. He then looked down at his own hooves and they were wrapped around her waist, and her talons supporting the back of his neck and head. He also felt a strange sensation down below and his eyes broke contact from her to see that both their lower bodies were hugging tightly together.

Along with something else.

Gretchen in turn also looked down and saw the predicament that they were in, and a heavy blush was on her face. He looked back at Gretchen and a heavy blush was present on his face as well, while his rational mind was kicking into full gear.

I have to get off, he desperately thought.

His breath quickened and his heart beat fast from what was most pressing and both parties knew they had to part ways. He slowly lets go and rights himself up, while she in turn removes her talons away from his body. Their movements caused the water to stir as they took a few steps back and away from each other. The two looked at another, wondering what had just happened between them. Gretchen looked away, her tail wrapping around her, while Quicksilver felt his heart thumping hard in his chest. An uncomfortable silence overcame both of them as they sat in the water, and the two hardly looked at each other from what they both experienced. Quicksilver shuddered, sending tiny ripples all around him, and Gretchen took notice. After another brief, yet hesitant moment, Quicksilver was the first to get out of the water, not bothering to shake himself off. After a few stumbled steps, he slumped over near their gear.

He sat flat on his haunches, his back towards her, clearly embarrassed as to what he just felt and did. Water still came off his body, and his wings spreading out upon the floor, but that was the least of his concerns and he did not care. His ears remained flat on his head and his tail hugged tight to his side. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. He felt aggrieved, if not ashamed, at what he just did and he dared not want to look back at her. He heard Gretchen slowly rise up and out of the water, hearing the water drip off her body. His body still trembled, still overcome with what he just did.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He shouted if not quivered to her, hearing her stop close behind him.

I just kissed her! You fool! What have I done! Even your parts were… What have I done!? His mind became frantic, trying to cope with the situation that he was in. He had deliberately kissed her, even worse, he was exposed with her. Was his own emotions running the show now? He didn’t know, he didn't think he could be like this. He couldn’t be attracted to her, yet his body said otherwise. The dream was resurfacing, proclaiming his love and it ached in his heart of the memory. He couldn’t comprehend the actions he has caused and knowing that he tried to kiss her. Without her consent, for that matter. He felt more horrible inside for doing that to her and he wished to cast himself off the mountain and try to glide far away from her.

Just then, in the midst of his delusion if not reprimanding thoughts, he felt her soft wet feathers brush up behind him.

Quicksilver shuddered, feeling her chest press up against his back, with her body cusping his back and tail. He felt her claws wrap tightly around his chest and it held him there, while her wet wings came forward and enveloped him. He was spooned by her while standing and he felt her head sit silently over his head. He felt that he should bolt away, to try and escape, but he trembled underneath her frame and she no doubt felt every little tremor racking his body. He softly gasped, a tiny sob emanating out of him, which only propelled Gretchen to hold him ever tighter in her grip.

He hadn't realized that he had been softly crying.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me...” he tried to speak, but found it hard not to hold back his tears. He tried to compose himself to try and to be a decent pony, yet he could not find the strength to do so. He felt so emotional and he never experienced this before in so long. Not since the time he had nearly lost his sister to a hunger deprived citizen. He was a mess, feeling so ignorant if not selfish. And yet, with Gretchen’s wings holding him, the warmth they brought to him, they seem to ease his soul.

“It’s alright, Fletching. It alright,” Gretchen whispered, still holding on to him. His mind muddled over what he should say, but he still felt the overwhelming guilt weighing upon him.

“I didn’t mean to do it. You were holding me and I just naturally... I never intended to do that,” he replied, still feeling the hot tears stream down his cheeks.

“It surprised me. I just wasn't expecting it,” Gretchen replied, and she too seemed at a loss for words.

Quicksilver closed his eyes, still shaking his head. “It’s my fault. If I didn’t pull your tail, this wouldn’t have happened.” he explained, yet he felt her head shake above his own.

“No, it’s my fault. If I hadn't nipped your head or even danced with you in the waters, I wouldn’t have become the way I am,” she explained. Quicksilver was able to open his eyes slightly, and she took a steady breath before continuing, “I had not felt like myself for so long. Day in and day out, I was just so into the camp life and ensuring everything was taken care of that I’d forgotten how it was to just be loose or carefree. My life was just so full of rules and strict customs that I forget that I am still a free-willed creature. For once, I felt more alive,” she claimed.

Quicksilver took in each of her words. But the heavy burden still weighed heavily on his heart. “It still doesn't excuse me for what I have done,” he said, his body still felt racked with utter torment.

“And what is that?” Gretchen asked, her words calm if not tender to his weary heart.

“I kissed you on the cheek and I’ve come to realize it was a mistake,” he explained. Gretchen was quiet when he spoke, and when she did not raise her voice, he continued on with his reasoning. “It was without your consent. It has not been nearly a day since we stumbled upon your uncle’s body and less time since we have buried him. I had appreciated all that you had done for me and for your uncle, being able to learn from him. Yet I feel I overstepped my bounds in caring for you and your uncle, and for me kissing you, and feeling my… I felt I… I degraded his sacred name and with you Gretchen. I felt I infringed upon your privacy and dove head into your family’s private affairs. Again I’m sorry, (sob) there is nothing I would give to take that back,” he said, another wave of tears pouring down his cheeks.

He lowered his head, trying to bury it into her own feathers. A sense of dread filling him up from feeling the way he is, but her wings still held him up, not once losing their grip. The memory of his own confession raised up in the back of his mind, and even though he felt love, he couldn't show it and more guilt pressed onto his mind.

She still remained silent, never once speaking up.

“I’ve dishonored you and your uncle, Gretchen. Just let me be off and away before I do anything else that would-”

It was subtle at first before he felt her feathers bristle against his back. Her cheek feathers, slowly but surely, moved up his neck and her head brushed against his jaw. He shuddered from the contact. Gretchen rubbed her cheek against him, stimulating a gentle touch against his jaw bone, rubbing away some of the tears that fell down the right side of his face. She then nudged her head further, stopping short where her face was staring out where he was looking and remained there.

“There is nothing to forgive, Fletching. You did not dishonor me or tarnish my uncle’s name,” she said. Her soft words were as gentle as the moisture that dewed down his body. He quivered, feeling that this was unnecessary, but she continued to comfort him to no end.

“The time we have spent together, the times we argued, and being carefree... I felt more free with each passing day. My uncle, he would have wanted me to move on, even if his death pains me to no end. When I was at my lowest, it was you who had me rise up. You brought me out of the shadow, even when I wished to be left alone or even at times when I resented you. I wanted to push you away, but I also needed someone, someone who could be there when I needed most. Time and again you’ve been there, and even at times lifting me back up. So if you think that you have brought shame to yourself or onto me, you are mistaken. I felt it was welcome,” she explained. He felt her lean in, and he cast a glance to stare deep into her golden eyes, that seemed to glisten and brighten from the nearby light.

“As for the kiss… I found it rather…. flattering,” she said a little hesitantly, and his breath hitched from her response. For a moment the two remained locked like that, staring into each other’s eyes and lost for words to speak. The guilt that was lingering on him had faded away and replaced with more appreciation with Gretchen. After another moment of silence, she receded her head back, resting her chin on top of his head. He didn’t not object nor voice his thoughts. Instead he allowed her to remain, and a warmth seemed to return in his heart. He sighed deeply, allowing the warm thoughts to comfort him. He still trembled a little, feeling inadequate to her, but that was all that remained.

Gretchen noticed his little shivers and she gently hummed to herself.

“Fletching, would you mind if I see your wings?” she asked, her words caring. One of his ears flicked to her and his eyes widen slightly. He didn’t know why she wanted to see them, but hearing that caring voice just was enough to allow him that. He winced a little as his wings raised up, gently brushing past her wings which continued to enclose him. For a moment, he felt like his wings were a flower and were blooming out of the Gryphon’s feathery embrace. Once his wings were out of her embrace, he let them hang off on either side of her own wings. He didn’t know why she wanted them to be seen or why his own crippled wings would mean to her.

Until, in that moment, he felt his feathers being gently lifted by her own wing, and felt the most strangest sensation invade upon his damaged wings.

Gretchen had her mouth on his right wing and was preening them.

He gasped from the contact, her beak grooming the feathers that seemed to have been neglected for so long. It had been too long since he himself did his own preening. In the times of war and being on the front lines, he couldn’t afford such luxuries. Often, when in the company of his sister, the two would do their preening together. He couldn’t even do any such preening while stuck in the camp. Here and now, feeling Gretchen’s beak upon his wings, brought something entirely new.

He was both relieved and terrified from this sensation.

While she continued and her beak tracing over his wings, he quickly got some sense back into his mind and he turned to look at her in his stunned state. She had her eyes closed and she continued to preen his wings.

“Gretchen! What… what are you… doing?!” he stammered, trying to understand why she was doing this, while he shuddered as she traced her beak over his wings. She paused in her ministation to look at him, her golden eyes looking rather relaxed in her little task.

“You’ve been agitated over what you did,” she explained, her voice calm and soothing, “You felt guilt for something that was meant in no offense. I wish to ease your troubled mind with a bit of preening. Grooming my feathers always relaxes me, so it should be no different with you,” she said, closing her eyes once more and going down to take another nibble into his wings, gently picking out the bad feathers and sorting out the others with her beak. He trembled when her beak traced over a part of his wing that felt sensitive, feeling his body tingle from the strong sensation.

“Relax, Fletching,” Gretchen muttered, still going over his wings like it was a normal everyday task. Though to him it didn’t feel normal at all, yet it felt right at the same time.

Quicksilver was beside himself, the foreign tongue and beak pressing and shifting into his own plumage, tracing back and forth in a simple pattern that any other pegasus would consider doing. However, what made this different for him was that a Gryphon had a beak and that came with a whole different experience. He turned away from her and lowered his head, his face brushing up against her feathers that held him in place. He cracked an eye down to her own feathers, the brown feathers that were right before him. With his whole body being held in her grip, apart from his head, a simple gesture came to his mind. He gently motioned his head over what felt like her own right wing and brushed against her feathers. Caught in a trance from her preening on his own wing, his muzzle and his own lips skimmed across the surface of her featherly plumage. When he eventually found the spot where his mouth touched a thick area of wet feathers, he buried his head deep within.

He opened his mouth and allowed himself to take in a mouthful of feathers and began to preen them as well.

Though the reaction that he heard from Gretchen was something that he did not expect.

She had stopped in her attentive task and gave a sharp moan that made him blush from the noise. She retreated her head away from his wing and her right wing went away from his open mouth. Although she didn’t leave his side, and he still wondered why she gave out the sudden reaction. He turned to her and immediately saw a blushing hen staring at him.

“Fletching! Why… you… why…” Her mouth hung open and simply gawked at him, her cheeks showing a deep red. The two stared at one another, both looking very flustered over what had taken place between them.

Quicksilver swallowed a lump in his throat. “I just… I just wanted to return the gesture. Preening your wings and help… relax,” he said, stuttering his words and a growing heat growing in his cheeks. Gretchen stared at him, never once breaking eye contact over what he was suggesting. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, uncertain if what he did was off limits to her or if he had overstepped his bounds. It was only when Gretchen break their gaze did she finally speak.

“I guess… that would be fine,” she said, a slight hesitation in her voice. Quicksilver blinked and the heat seemed to rise more in his cheeks then it did in the air. He felt her briefly remove herself from him, only for a moment later to feel her talon on his shoulder and pulled his body towards her. He then was facing in front of her, his chest gently brushing against her white if not wet feathers. Out of reaction, he looked up to her and she in turn looked down to him. An uneasy feeling gripped both of them, unable to make the first move. Gretchen looked reluctant, unsure if she was willing to go through with this. Quicksilver was also feeling indecisive, wondering if he had pushed her too far in doing this.

Then, as if a spell was lifted, she opened up her left wing to him, her feathers extending to their farthest reach. She looked away as if ashamed, if not uncomfortable with the situation, but she did not say any protest to him. Quicksilver looked at the rows upon rows of lush feathers, unsure where to start. His eyes traced over to the low end of her wing, the primaries, which was still wet. He leaned forward, seeing the brown feathers before him and he quickly eyed her, and wondering if he was allowed to proceed. Gretchen gave no reply, only her eyes closed and facing away from him.

Without a second thought, he looked back at her primary wings and opened his mouth over her feathers and proceeded to preen them.

Gretchen moaned softly, but it was not the same as the first, and she then sighed blissfully from the touch. For a few moments, Quicksilver allowed his mouth to trace over her feathers, cleaning and picking off any loose quills and ensuring they were cared for. While he did this, he felt a foreign presence on his left wing and he slowly opened an eye to Gretchen. She had removed one of her talons that was holding him and tenderly lifted his broken wing for her to see. Silently and with a determination in her eyes, she encompassed her beak over his left wing. The sensation tingled all over his body and he felt sensitive to her touch. But it gradually turned into a more tender and if not relaxing motion that he seemed to accept as he went into his work in cleaning her feathers.

Never thought I would see the day that a Gryphon and a Pegasus would preen each other’s wings, he thought, allowing himself to be immersed by her touch while he in turn was busy in his task of smoothing out her plumage.

They sat in silence for a time, preening and pulling feathers out of each other. Gretchen and Quicksilver parted away from how close their bodies were touching, but it allowed them to have the extra space in working into each other’s wings. Quicksilver felt the natural ministrations coming off of Gretchen, gliding over his sore and worn feathers and he in turn was giving in the same equal treatment to her. He breathed heavily into her wings from the constant tugs and gentle grazes from her beak, and there was no doubt in his mind that she was feeling the same thing. He blushed mildly at the thought, having earlier thoughts of what it might feel like to preen her wings. But he did not expect, or even fathom, how wonderful it felt being preened by her.

After nearly a minute went by and in the midst of the current ministrations, Quicksilver heard the most interesting noise come out of Gretchen and what he heard made him sigh in relaxation.

Gretchen was softly humming.

It was soft and stable, hitting a few high notes before dropping down. She repeated once more, but in different tunes yet with the same pattern. It was harmonically even and it was welcoming melodic sound, almost like a complete song. When she continued, it sent the tiniest vibrations through his feathers as she preened them, and it not only felt relaxed, but it was calming to not only hear but to feel the little humming. He sighed as he continued to work, imagining a little harp was being played alongside her humming.

Strangely, when he heard it, he felt safe.

While she continued her little tune, she focused off his primaries on his left wing and focused on his secondaries, slowly if not gently handling the damaged area where his wings were hurting the most. Nevertheless, she was being attentive to his wounds and ensuring what she was doing was not harming him. He felt her pluck a feather or two, which did sting just a little, but he felt it was the biggest relief for his wings. He in turn finished off her own primary feathers and shifted his attention to her secondaries, burying himself into her plumage.

Despite how wet she still was, he was able to keep her relatively cleaned up, even removing some of the excess water that was still on her. While he did this, his face was still in her plumage, feeling much of her feathers on his face and cheeks. Her feathers were so soft, so gentle that it tickled his nose. They had a smell to them that was different from his own, but he wondered if it was just from the bath waters. Yet the more he delved into her left wing, picking off the loose feathers from her feathery body, he could smell a nice oily scent. Almost like a tangerine… or vanilla.

He almost hummed in affection from it, almost joining in cadence with Gretchen's little song.

He then felt her beak trace over his joints and lesser coverts, and he seethed a little from where his wings were hurting the most. Her pace slowed a little, taking notice how he was feeling the pain from his damaged wings. She took her time, softly biting into his feathers, and he would occasionally feel his feathers being rearranged and pulled on. However, that negated at how much relaxation he was feeling when she worked on his wings. He himself felt obligated to slow down as well, giving the same equal treatment that she was giving him. He was rewarded when she elicited an ever so gentle coo and hummed deeper into his wings, which in turn made his body shiver from the vibrations.

He continued into his tender care of her wings, still going into the rows of fine plumage that were so much more elegant than his own. Since his time taking care of her left wing, both of them had dried off from the warm air around them. This allowed him to feel more of her dry wings and experience her natural feathers. He still smelled the oil-like fragrance from before, but it seemed to be amplified then when she was wet. He still felt that it was nice and he continued to take in every bit of it. After a few moments, he felt Gretchen lift her beak away from his wing and he felt her talon tap lightly on the back of his head.

“Fletching?” she asked, her voice soft yet sounding heavy. Quicksilver paused in his ministrations, seeing that we were near the part of the body where the wings joint and the body meet. He blinked, feeling immersed by the attentive care for his wings and dealing with her at the same time. He looked down and saw that he was buried right in between her body and wing, his left cheek pressed up to her chest from where he was preening her pristine feathers. He blushed a little and he could have sworn that he heard her heartbeat fast next to his ear. He could feel her heavy breathing and her chest rising up and down from his tender care of her wings. He also felt something different in how her feathers on her chest and neck were much softer than her wings. Backing away he glanced up to Gretchen, who had her mouth half open and her face looking red. She closed and opened her beak like a fish before speaking up once more.

“I’m done with your left wing… May I do your right?” she asked, her eyes fixated on him like some predator to its prey. He nodded to her, seeing that he had finished with her wing, but remained in longer to add more comfort to her wings. He backed his head away from her body, the heat from his cheeks leaving him as he motioned himself over to her left side. Gretchen adjusted herself as well, her head motioned over to his right wing and began to gently hold his right wing with her talons. She then proceeded to preen them once more, his body tingling from the sensation. Once he let himself go to her tiny ministrations, he bent his own head down and began to preen her right wing, eliciting a muffled moan from Gretchen.

While he did her wing, he glanced over to his left side and saw that his wing was cleaned. His wings still hurt, but from what he could see they appeared natural and unblemished. On the floor he noticed multiple feathers piled up underneath from all the preening. It was such a relief to him, as if a small burden was being removed from his wings. He smiled a little and breathed a little further into her plumage, which caused Gretchen to hum in content. He felt every trace of her beak on his right wing which felt exhilarating and he in turn would get a mouthful of feathers to preen the gryphon majestic fluff. Both seemed to share an understanding between them and that they were both appreciating what they were doing for each other.

Time seemed to slip by as they continued to groom and clean their feathers. Every few seconds caring for one feather felt like several minutes of endless bliss. The sound of their muffled moaning was the only sound that made in the cave, besides the water running nearby. They were just so caught up in their treatment to each others wings, so engrossed in their task, that nothing else seemed to matter at the moment. The comfort, the genuine care, and the cooperation they had when dealing with each other’s wings made a world of difference. Each tiny endearment, each gentle caress of their feathers, left them both immersed in bliss.

Quicksilver blinked as he neared the end of her wings, where the feathers met her body and neck. He had no clue how much time he spent on her wings, yet it seemed that Gretchen still kept going, even after she was done with his right wing. He dared cast a glance through the foliage of feathers to see her working on top of his wings, being attentive to each individual feather. While he stared at her, the tiny white feathers bristled from where he moved and his attention was drawn to the plumage and pillow-like warmth. His eyes were drawn away from her, and he breathed heavily from the amount of tender pressure being applied to the most sensitive part of his wings. His mind was a blur as he gently nuzzled a little of her chest feathers, tickling his nose and taking in everything that is Gretchen.

I wonder if she will mind? was the only clear thought came to him. He eyed her for a spare moment, seeing that she was still busy with the top of his wing, while removing a mouthful of feathers from his mouth. He brushed and gave a gentle rub, grazing into her chest and parts of her neck. The white feathers pressed up against him, along with the amount of red individual feathers in their tiny spots. The smaller feathers were more bundled together and felt like a giant bush the more he pressed into her. More heat seeped into his cheeks the further he graced into her gentle quills.

Why are these so soft? He wondered, gently nuzzling into them. Gretchen took notice of this and stopped in mid pluck of one of his primary feathers, and she let go in order to look at him. When she did this, part of her neck move and the quills on her chest shifted ever so slightly, which in turn caused him to shutter slightly from the movement. He eyed her chest feathers as it was rising up and down with each steady breath. He bore a shadow of a smile as he drew closer to it, breathing a little heavy into her chest in preparation of what he was going to do.

“Fletching?” Gretchen asked, looking down at him.

Without another word, he has his mouth onto her chest feathers and began to preen them.

Gretchen gasped, but it was more of a surprise at what she felt. Her head rolled back a little and she looked up to the ceiling, while he cared for her chest feathers. The soft feathers on her chest were far more different than that of her wings. He gently explored the bundle of feathers, picking on the tiny quills with his mouth and giving them a clean. He heard a distinct heartbeat within and it went faster every time he went exploring every layer of her chest. He was at a loss for words at how soft they felt, and when he went deeper into preening he felt he would be buried in a warm feathery blanket. He could hear Gretchen shudder with every breath and he wondered if she too was enjoying this.

He did not hear her reject or push him away, and yet he wondered if he was pushing this a little too far. He paused in his tiny ministrations and eyed her, finding that she was staring down at him. Her face was blushing and her feathers in her cheeks seemed to ruffle up. Her golden eyes were half open and he couldn’t tell what she was conveying to him. He then saw her close her mouth and open once more.

“Don’t… stop,” she uttered softly, her gaze becoming more alluring from what he was doing. He happily obliged and delved back into her plumage, eliciting a soft coo from the Gryphon hen. Quicksilver was silent as he went back into giving her the preening. Gretchen softly moaned and her head went up while he remained where he was, caring for her pristine feathers that were the softest thing he ever felt in his life.

In the back of his mind, he wondered why Gretchen allowed him to do this but no doubt she was experiencing a world of heaven from his tiny nurture of her wings. He could take a gander that her chest feathers and body were more sensitive, so he decided to do this slow and be attentive, so that she’d get the best that he could offer her. Although, he felt a strange feeling of being watched by the paintings around him. All of them watching, silently judging of his actions.

In this moment, he didn’t care in the slightest what they thought.

While he slowly worked his way up her chest and into the plumule of her feathers, he felt something on his sides. He felt her talons brush gently underneath his wings, lifting them up in a gentle caress. Despite how they were painfully hurting him, he only could feel her gentle touch that she was giving him. His mouth continued to move upward from her chest and towards her neck, giving her all the pleasant feeling of a preening. It was possible that she couldn’t get in these areas, because the more he moved up the more she cooed from the gentle reaction. When he hit the area that was above her chest and onto her neck, he felt something that he did not expect.

Gretchen was purring.

He generally had to pause when he felt her body vibrated through her chest and neck. He never once thought or could even fathom that a Gryphon was even capable of purring. But here he was, listening to the subtle purrs that reverberated through her body. He decided to get back into cleaning her feathers while she continued to purr. While he did this, her talons drifted toward his sides of his chest and down towards his waist. He shuddered when he felt her claws wrap around his back and traced up between his wings. She pulled him closer, allowing his body to stand more upright while he moves his head up and preening on her neck. She purred again from the contact, sending the vibrations all throughout her body. However, when he had nipped his mouth over her throat he felt its reverberation through his mouth and Gretchen silently exhaled from the touch. The sensation made his mind melt and caused Gretchen to lift her claws ever higher.

Her talons crawled up his spine and towards his neck. Like a spider on its web, her talons grazed up his back, each tiny appendage pressing and pricking into his skin before settling themselves onto his neck, the sensation tingling up his back from her touch. Her talons cusped themselves onto the back of his nape and head, cradling him there as he held his mouth over her neck. He stayed there, preening the feathers on her neck and hearing her breathing becoming all the more heavy, the purring ever present. His own hooves instinctively went up, wrapping up her torso and pulling himself closer to her. This drew a muffled sigh as he heard the soft thumping of her tail nearby.

In a strange way, he felt the role of the predator and the prey be reversed.

“Fletching…. Fletching…” Gretchen said slowly yet softly, barely audible. He stopped preening when he was in between her neck and underneath her beak. He blinked once, getting out of his drunken stupor to see where he was, though a part of him wished to remain and for her to keep calling that little name that she has given him. Quicksilver slowly removed himself from that feathery embrace and looked up to see Gretchen staring at him. Her face was heavily flushed with red and her breath subtle yet arduous as she stared at him, a longing in her golden eyes. He in turn felt his own breath become labored as he stared up at her, lost in her orbs and wanting to go back and to care for her wings. His heart thumbed in his chest, threatening to break out of its cage. The light around him seemed to shine off her and those elegant wings, making her all the more regal in his eyes. She blinked lazily, looking down at him and only seeing him, and he in turn was seeing her in all of her glory. He softly closed his eyes and she in turn did the same.

I don’t want to leave this cave, he thought, holding her close to him and she in turn nestled her talons over his neck and head, holding him tenderly between them.

The two drew closer, his muzzle and her beak ever nearing within reach.

Boom.

A noise drew their attention and they opened their eyes to look at one another. The two looked dazed, lost for words at what they heard. Quicksilver lifted one of his ears and it went in the direction of the sound while Gretchen lifted her head ever so slightly.

Boom. Boom.

The noise was louder but it was not any nearer, only growing in its frequency. The two looked out towards the cave entrance, seeing no light or torch coming out, yet the sound remained.

Boom, Boom, Boom.

The noise reverberated off the walls, the sound of a drum pounded upon by heavy hooves. The drums continued, repeating in a strange sequence that resembles a chant. The two looked at one another, clearly brought out of their stupor and they looked at how close they held each other. The two blinked once and the two slowly let go, separating from their warm embrace and looking away as if embarrassed.

I almost kissed her, he thought, rubbing one of his legs from the intimate session of his preening and almost leading to something else.

The sound of the drums was heard again and a distant sound of voices was carried out, causing his mind to focus on what that noise is. He turned to Gretchen, trying to calm herself over her flustered state before looking back to him. He motioned to the cave entrance and she nodded to him in kind, a determined look on her countenance. The two made their way out of the cave, the warmth of the cave leaving them and the cold of the mountain was coming to them.

Once outside what greeted him was that it was already night and the full moon was out in the skies above. He questioned how long they had been in that cave as he looked around him. A few clouds were gathering in the north but didn’t look like it wouldn't form for at least a few more hours. Quicksilver and Gretchen cast a gaze down towards the valley, and the two saw a large fire, just behind a ridge of the mountain. The two shared a look of concern and they both wanted to know what was going on down there.

“Lets us find out what that is,” he said, while Gretchen nodded.

“I’ll go gather our gear and supplies,” she said, turning away from him and heading back into the cave.

“He actually did it. He truly-,”

“Hmmm?” Quicksilver blinked once, looking back at Gretchen and wondered what she muttered. She was gone out of ear shot as she disappeared in the cave. He decided to ignore it before looking back down towards the ridge, seeing many shadows dancing around the fire and the sound of a throng of voices chanting in the winter night.

Whatever was down there, he only hoped that it was no danger to them.

Author's Note

It has been far to long. Will explain myself in a update. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story finally returning.

Art work made by both the Fantastic Backlash91 and Turnipberry.

https://www.deviantart.com/backlash91/art/Playful-Griffoness-810893635

https://www.deviantart.com/turnipberry/art/Commission-Hot-springs-763418310

Incoming for more chapters in the future.

King's Rise

“Steady, Gretchen!” Quicksilver called out.

“I am steady! Just don’t struggle!” she replied, holding onto his waist.

Quicksilver was being carried by Gretchen down the mountain and towards the ridge, where the noise of the encampment emanated. She glided down the pass while holding onto his sides, while he carried their supplies on his back. If any fortunate soul looked up now, they would presume it was an eagle carrying a large goat to drop for its meal. He was thankful enough the weather was calm and no wind blew around them, providing them a stable flight. To the west the last of the sun’s rays was setting, but even now it felt as if night had encompassed the land.

The two continued to descend towards the ridge, taking them at least ten minutes to get near the ridge. He often looked down to see where they were, and saw most parts of this mountain appeared barren at the top. He would cast a glance downward where he noticed a few deep gorges appearing to be bottomless, and he was grateful for not walking the distance they were now. The shadow of the mountain loomed over them as they glided, giving him an uneasy feeling of dread about this place. It was as if a great evil resided in those shadows and would consume them the moment he looked away. Gretchen flew near the walls of the mountain’s shadow, brushing past the trees that stayed motionless and resembled talons ready to grab them. Quicksilver felt his body angle with Gretchen as she went up and over the ridge, seeing his breath from the rapid fall. The two soon hovered momentarily and looked at what was before them.

The encampment was much larger than expected, with hundreds upon hundreds of tents placed around the mountain’s crevice. Several large fires burned near the center of the camp, with large shadows dancing around in a tribal manner. The drums grew more potent when they drew near and each beat thrummed in the air.

“Can you get closer?” Quicksilver asked, still looking at the spectacle.

“I’ll try. There might be a small fissure to the side there,” she replied, turning her flight towards a small area near the camp. There were many trees obscuring their path, perfect for cover. The two made a rapid descent, passing by the trees that bristled from their arrival. Gretchen slowed her descent until Quicksilver was able to drop down and get into the trees’ cover. Gretchen followed close behind, closing her wings and keeping to his side. The gear in his sack jumbled for a moment and the armor clacked against her uncle’s sword, but the tremendous noise of the rowdy warriors within the camp were enough to muffle their approach. The two shared a glance before nodding to each other and infiltrated the camp.

Soft snow crunched underneath them, and the trees around them provided ample cover from prying eyes. Quicksilver looked to his left, seeing some of the tents pop up past the brush. They ascended a slight inclination, which provided some overwatch over the entire camp. He could still see shadows behind the tents and what looked like halberds being held in the air. He dared not think they just walked into a Gryphon encampment.

If they had, then the two would need to get out of there post-haste.

The drums continued to beat while they moved, providing some cover over their movements. The sight of the camp disappeared behind the wall of rock as they went deeper into the fissure. The path ahead of them had fewer trees and the walls surrounded them on either side, providing them with much needed space. Each step they carefully tread, not wanting to make a wrong move and bump into a stationary guard.

I feel like my heart is in my throat.Quicksilver thought, glancing at every shadow for a potential enemy. The further I go the more chances we will be caught. Oh goddess above, please let us get out of this in one piece, he prayed, continuing to march forth.

The two continued to move forward, their breath visible in the cold night air and only the light ahead of them as their guide. After a few moments, they spotted a fork in the path. In front of them lead to a darker area of the camp, with little to no light in that direction. On their left lead them deeper into the camp, more light shining before them. The two looked at each other with acknowledging nods and headed in the direction of the light. They slowed their pace, their gear sagging into the fallen snow below them, all the while the two remained silent.

Ahead of them was a thick brush next to a large tree that sagged sideways. Quicksilver motioned his hoof so that they would get into the brush, gently placed his gear down, and went into the thicket. The tumble of the soft dead leaves and the low hanging tree branch thistles gave an adequate place to hide. Gretchen placed her gear next to his and crawled next to him.

The noise of the camp’s inhabitants was strongest here, their hollers in a brutish, if not heavily slurred, language. Quicksilver was a little perplexed by this; it was something he did not expect to hear by Gryphons or Equines. He eyed Gretchen, already lifting her talons over the foliage to bring it down.

She paused and eyed him. He nodded, and she pulled the leaves back.

What they saw was beyond belief.

Large horned creatures were shouting and dancing around a large fire, their large hooves pounding on the ground and possibly shaking the very foundation of the mountain. They looked twice the size of a large Gryphon, if not thrice the size of a regular pony, and heavily covered in thick furs. Most grew so thick that it covered their eyes, while others were cut short in some war-like tuft of hair. He could see they wore armor that looked like leather, but knew to be something else entirely when he noticed some sort of iron or metal embedded into the carapace. The way it was shaped and the way it moved allowed them to move in a wide range of space. There also appeared to be another layer of armor over the leather for a few of the creatures, making them larger than life and far more terrifying to behold. It was completely foreign, something unknown to even the lands of Equestria or any of her allies. He didn’t even imagine such designs even came from the lands of the Gryphons.

“Gretchen? What are they?” Quicksilver whispered so softly it was like a gentle breeze.

Gretchen remained silent, still looking out to the multitude of large creatures before them. Her eyes were still wide and remained staring out towards the rambunctious crowd of bull-like creatures.

“I… I don’t know, Fletching. I honestly don’t know,” she muttered.

An uneasy feeling crawled onto him as he looked back at the throng of jubilant bulls.

The shouting grew tenfold when a circle was made away from the main fire. Two of the bulls were in the center of the circle, glaring at each other in a death-like gaze. Before them was a large throne, created by what looked like the remains of bone and leather. The circle shrunk somewhat by the number of bulls gathering, all shouting out for battle. The larger bull with a light brown coat stomped into the ground and shook its braided hair to the side, revealing a part of its face through its mane.

“My boys will have a good laugh over your death!” the bull boasted in what sounded like broken Equish, it’s companions cheering wildly on. His opponent, who had a smaller build from his opponent but was still at least twice his own size, remained staring at him in the blood-like haze. He shook his brown coat and his large horns shook from either side, resembling two giant broadswords. Once settled, the bull grunted and growled at his opponent like a mad dog. It was an unsettling feeling as he went on from growl to snarl, like it had no speech whatsoever.

After his initial grunting and growling, it just gnashed its teeth and pawed at the ground, ready for a fight of his own. His opponent lowered his horns and charged forward with all of his fury. The two clashed in the center with a thunderous clack of their heads, and their brethren shrilled wildly from the spectacle.

Quicksilver and Gretchen observed the duel, hearing the sounds of clattered horns going into each other. The bull creatures battled each other with all of their strength, with each consecutive clash intensifying the battle cries of their brethren. The added cheers only encouraged their blood lust, battling and swinging their massive horns into one another and occasionally using their hooves for more direct and blunt force.

For several minutes the two fought in a battle of wills. The titans clashed until the rage-filled bull fell back when he was struck on the side by a powerful front hoof. He staggered back, trying to get his footing, all while laughing maniacally from the onslaught.

He seems to rather enjoy this, observed Quicksilver.

The braided-mane bull came forward and stuck him across the face, sending him back and slamming his head into the frozen dirt. A snapping noise came off of one of the downed bull’s horns, and he roared out from the pain. The winning warrior roared in triumph, while the broken bull just kept laughing and giggling while getting back up. The winning bull shot a look of annoyance and he strode over to deliver the killing blow. His hoof wrapped around his dazed opponent and lifted his head up to face him. Unbeknownst to the two of them, a third bull, far larger than the two, was approaching them.

“I’ll show you meaning of pain!” the victorious bull shouted, but paused when he noticed a shadow looming over him. He looked up to see the third figure standing over him and a hoof raised high above. The larger bull brought his hoof down upon the warrior, smacking him straight into the ground with a thunderous clack.

Quicksilver’s body jolted from the impact, feeling the resounding force from where he was lying down. He also noticed out of his peripheral vision Gretchen also flinched. The fighting circle around the warriors went silent, and the beating of the drums, which had been constant during the fighting, all but evaporated from the bull’s entrance. Quicksilver looked upon the large bull, who had settled himself onto all fours.

The bull was a beastly sight, easily larger than his next kin. His horns were worn and aged, but still looked like they could gore a pony in two. His coat was reddish with hints of grey in the edges, with a smaller secondary layer around his chest and head appearing golden from the nearby fires. His armor was far more extravagant than the others, resembling layers of leather and metal his kin wore, but more refined and causing a glow to come off him. His last feature, when he pushed away his golden locks, showed his deep, piercing blue eyes.

“You bloody cunt!” the large bull rumbled, his voice heavy and dripping with vexation. He pressed a hoof onto the bull he struck, the latter struggling as he shook considerably and at a loss for words. There was even a small blood trail on his forehead, pooling slightly below him.

“Guests are coming and you fight?! Settle later!” He yelled, letting the warrior scramble away from his leader. He then hovered over the rambling bull that continued to sway from side to side, not even paying attention to what was around him. The golden bull bend down and used a hoof to lift the bull’s head up, the two now meeting at eye level.

“Little brother… you still strong. Big brother believe in you,” he said.

The smaller bull almost smiled at this. He nodded almost in a happy manner, though he still cackled a muffled laugh. The leader pulled him up and the two headed towards the throne. The cackling brother stood at the side while the golden bull went up and sat on the throne, overlooking the throng of warriors and creating a large open circle. The drums were silent, the fires crackled nearby, and Quicksilver and Gretchen held their breath to see what would come.

Within moments, a single repeating note played on the outskirts of the camp. Quicksilver and Gretchen remained silent, hearing the marching steps of warriors coming into the camp. He looked to the left, seeing more of the bull creatures part a path as recognizable figures entered the circle.

Quicksilver felt his heart drop when he saw Sharp Beak at the head of the column.

Blood boiled in his veins, and trepidation was on the forefront of his mind. An uneasy foreboding feeling crawled on his spine while watching the Colonel strut himself to the front, appearing to all the world that he was the center of attention. Gretchen snorted in anger but remained deathly quiet, and the two said nothing while they watched the scene unfold.

Behind him was his second in command Black Talon, who was easily stuffing his face with some meaty dish in his claw. Behind them was their faithful acolytes and warriors, all adorned with a black cloth and armor. A few carried banners that resembled the same gryphon mark of the King, and many more carried heavy halberds and black swords. All were armed to the teeth, and there were far too many for Quicksilver to count. There were definitely more Gryphons on Sharp Beak‘s side then he previously thought.

While he pondered on where they’d come from, his attention drew to the colonel, who carried himself like some fancy noble before his audience, and he took a humble bow. His entourage stopped several yards behind him and remained there as such. However, he did notice subtle movement within the center of the mass of Gryphons, but he could not tell what was happening.

“Ah… salutations my Yak friends. It’s good to see that you are having such great festivities.” He paused, looking at the snow covered mountains above before looking at them. “I trust that winter has not been too arduous?” he said.

The yak leader snorted in his direction. “Yaks have no bother with winter. Yaks resilient to snow. Northern lands far colder,” the golden yak said, puffing out his chest. His yak brethren all laughed along with him.

“It’s good to know these lands are naturally suited for you,” Sharp Beak commented, taking another step towards the yak leader. The laughter ceased and one of the yak guards came forward, pointing his horns at him. Sharp Beak stopped in his tracks and remained steady while the guard snorted in aggression.

“Bird don’t get close! In Presence of Gansukh Grimhoof! The Great Khan! Show respect!” the guard shouted out, and a few idle yaks likewise readied their horns. Sharp Beak took a step back, but Gansukh lifted a hoof. His guards raised their heads, but they still kept their horns at the ready.

“My yak warriors right. I am the Grimhoof, the greatest Khan ever known in these lands! You are here because Gansukh say so,”the yak leader spoke with much authority, while on his left his mad brother gnashed his teeth and laughed at Sharp Beak.

“I mean no offense. I overstepped my bounds. My sincere apologies,” he said, taking another bow to the yak. “I merely wished to thank you for clearing up some useless rabble from the camp all those weeks ago. Those extra warriors from the camp were real nuisance to my plans.”

“The war bands,” Gretchen whispered, Quicksilver turning to her. “He had ours brethren killed off,” she seethed, her talons pawing the snow and her teeth gritted in anger. Quicksilver unfurled his right wing and gently placed it over her frame, despite his wound's protest for him to remain idle. Gretchen felt a little comfort from his touch, but her detest against Sharp Beak remained.

“Aye… those fools. Easy prey for us. Caught unawares of our scent. They did not see fight coming,” Gansukh spoke, beaming with pride. His fellow warriors chuckled and nodded their heads in approval. The lone brother simply cackled to himself.

“Yes, of course. Which is why I wish to ask if your slave has tested our latest creation.” He paused, looking about the throng of warriors. “By chance is that mongrel still here?” Sharp Beak inquired. Gansukh turned to one of his warriors and spoke in his own tongue, then said warrior took off from the circle in search for whoever this slave was. It only took about a minute, but soon enough the warrior returned and a very recognizable dog moved along to the front of the audience.

“Lupin,” he whispered while the Diamond Dog moved in front of the group, carrying something underneath a cloth. Gretchen said nothing, opting to remain silent. Quicksilver looked on with her and wondered what they had planned. Colonel Sharp Beak moved forward to Lupin and stood before him, the Diamond Dog having to bow on one knee and present what was underneath the cloth.

“I trust the weapon has been proven useful?” Sharp Beak asked.

Lupin nodded his head. “It has been proven most resourceful in capturing game. I believe it would be a fine weapon,” he explained.

The colonel removed the cloth and revealed the matchlock to all. He grabbed the weapon and showed it off to the rest of the crowd, while Lupin silently walked back towards the outer edges of the circle, remaining dejected.

“I knew he was a traitor,” Gretchen whispered. Quicksilver said nothing.

“As you can see, this is the latest and revolutionary weapon in the art of war,” he proclaimed. “With this, our enemies will tremble in fear by its brutality. With this, our armies shall sweep across Equestria with an Iron claw!”

Many of his ardent acolytes cheered from the news, brandishing their swords and shields and smacking their chest plates. He seemed to have a command over his followers. However, the Yaks remained deathly silent.

“Weapon loud,” Gansukh said aloud, the throng of Sharp Beak‘s warriors easing their boisterous uproar as the yak leader snorted in irritation. “Weapon make easy kill on game, but yak have no interest. Yak cannot use. Need Diamond Dogs and Gryphons to use,” he said, unimpressed by the way the colonel carried himself.

Sharp Beak seemed to differ as he turned to him in a knowing gaze.

“That is true that you cannot properly use such weapons. But it has helped you in securing food by means of others. However, there is another reason why I wish to present this to you,” he explained, flicking a claw over to his company. Quicksilver watched as many Gryphons shuffled in place and began to part a pathway. In the center of the mass, several hooded figures moved forward through the Gryphons and came towards the center of the circle. A final count of seven strode out, each accompanied by a guard. Quicksilver noticed the majority of them were Gryphons by their talons and paws, but one among them was a pair of hooves. He thought he saw a pair of wings on him, but he couldn’t tell because of how closely packed they were together.

He could only fathom as what an equine was doing here.

All seven figures were forced to sit in front of the colonel and the Yak horde. Several of them moved their heads about, not knowing what was happening around them. Sharp Beak chuffed in some twisted amusement and strode over to each individual. He toyed with them by waving the matchlock in front of them, the edge of the gun bobbing each of their heads and making them jolt or try to move away from what was poking them.

“So pitiful you all are,” he spoke, garnering the attention of the prisoners. They all sat in silence, some keeping their spines straight while others only shook with fear. “To think, that you were all that stood in my way and my rightful place.” He paused, hovering over one prisoner in particular. “Yet you never expected me to be in the position I am in now. You,” he butted the head of the gryphon, who stiffened at his response, “will see that I was the one who will bring order to this Empire,” he said, clacking a talon to a few of his subordinates. Three of them dragged their captives forward, forcing them to stay in a line. They removed their covers from their heads and revealed three Gryphons before the crowd.

Each Gryphon wore different armor then their Nomad counterparts. They wore Iron breastplates, bearing sigils of what looked to be of a Noble house Quicksilver could not figure out. They seemed more regal in their appearance and their feathers looked far pristine then that of other Gryphons, yet their feathers had lost their color and looked older than the other counterparts. Quicksilver spotted a sigil upon them, but he couldn’t spot what they were until they were focused their attention on Sharp Beak.

“You!” the one in the front exclaimed. “We assumed you were dead!”

“He was suppose to be banished!” the one behind him spoke, his gravelly voice spewing venom.

“The thieving cur,” the last one said, flaring his teeth at Sharp Beak.

“Such foolish Gryphons,” Sharp Beak spoke, looking at each in turn and ignoring their chatter. “You were the best guardsman within the Castle of Gryphonstone. Friends of the King, the Ecclasiarch, and much loved by the people. The standard bearers for all that stands for Gryphonstone and the pride of our nation,” he said cold and calculating. He patted the end of the matchlock with his talons. “How easily you have all fallen. Lead by craven dotards of the old order, tearing the fabric of our culture against itself, and your worst crime: shaming our tribe for all the years after King Ravenclaw lead the charge.” He paused, rubbing the surface of the matchlock and chuckling like a crazed Gryphon. “It was so simple, to be turned against your fellows by rumors and false accusations. You had been there for all these years, and you think getting rid of me was going to change. This was a long time coming, and you old bastards will be the first of many to fall.” He hoisted the weapon up and pointed directly at the Gryphon before him.

“There was a reason you were not to have this position!” the front Gryphon shouted, ignoring the weapon in front of him. “You’re not worthy of the responsibility and the caretaking of the people! You may have tricked us, you may have turned our brothers against one another, but we have not abandoned the throne!” Quicksilver anxiously watched as the mad Gryphon looked down the sights of the weapon. At the same time, he felt Gretchen placing her claw over his hoof and holding it tight.

“Pitiful excuses will not save you from what was rightfully mine. Besides, there is one here who I despise more than you lot,” he said, while the Noble Gryphon’s eyes bulged out.

“Bah!” he barked at the colonel. “You have not won! You will never take the thro-” He never finished as a bright flash came from the matchlock and a thunderous clap echoed around them. A hole burst inward the first Gryphon Guard’s armor and the second one stiffened, while blood spattered onto the third Gryphon. The first two Gryphons slumped onto either side, their eyes wide and mouths agape. The third Gryphon looked down, seeing his chest plate was covered in the blood of his fellow Noble Gryphons and the indentation the matchlock bullet made, where it remained smoldering and bloodied. The Noble Gryphon shuddered, breathing heavily. The old guard remained stunned while Sharp Beak snapped his talons and his second-in-command came forward. The corpulent Gryphon then drew something from his side and exchanged the matchlock for something that appeared to be a smaller version of the matchlock.

Without any warning, Sharp Beak clicked a small latch on the end, turned the weapon on the last guard, and fired the weapon point blank into his face.

Quicksilver flinched and felt a bit nauseous and bile was creeping in the back of his throat. When the smoke cleared, he was able to see the devastation. The top part of the Gryphon’s beak was missing and a significant hole went through his head. Gore and blood splattered the ground, turning the snow into a crimson wave. The other prisoners fidgeted and whined underneath their covers. The Gryphon fell with a heavy thump, blood forming in a pool around his head. Sharp Beak turned to face the Yak Khan before him.

“This…” he gestured to the smaller gun, “is called a flintlock, or a claw cannon if you will. A smaller version of the matchlock, but still equally as deadly. While the matchlock can easily penetrate through their heavy armor at long range, the flintlock can easily kill an opponent with ease in a close fight. These weapons are the future of warfare, and no doubt will lead to many vic-”

“Deadly and loud…” Gansukh interrupted, rubbing one ear with a hoof. The yak was not amused in the slightest by his weapon or even him in general. The yak leader grunted before continuing: “They still no use to us, for we cannot use loud boomsticks.” The Yak leader leaned forward, one of his fierce eyes visible due to his hair parting. “I ask… Gryphon… why this so important? What to gain?” he asked, all eyes now fixated on Sharp Beak.

The Nomad Gryphon merely chuckled. He turned to face the Yak leader, his arms outstretched and his claws open to him. “I wish to offer an alliance. One that will truly be beneficial for the both of us. I can give greater credence in allowing your people to be here in this land. I will allow for your people to grow and prosper, and even allow you to plunder any villages and towns that do not pay the tithe. I can provide this and more, if you but offer your horns and fighting with me. Gansukh… the terrible warlord, the great Kahn of north, what say you!”

The Yak leader laughed outright over what Sharp Beak requested. He rocked on his seat, his armor jangled and tossed as he rocked back and forth. He clutched a hoof to his chest trying to settle himself, but he continued his raucous outbursts. Quicksilver could only watch in slight amusement over how the Kahn was, even his guards that were near him also chortled, with the Kahn’s brother laughing equally the loudest. Sharp Beak remained where he was, never once moving and his face ever placid. In fact, he almost expected this type of reaction. After another few moments of their laughter, Gansukh smacked his hoof onto the chair’s arms.

“You fool bird! No one tells yaks what do and not do! We yaks will take what we want, whenever we want!” he settled down once more, leaning his head and flared his nostrils, “Only worthy leaders and kings can make Gansukh agree.”

Sharp Beak turned his head ever so slightly, a grin rising until he looked to be sneering at the Yak. “I’m glad you said that,” he said, snapping his talons while his warriors moved forward with the three other Gryphons, leaving the equine prisoner behind. From their vantage point, Quicksilver saw that the Equine had wings that looked velvet and even bat like, making him believe he was a thestral. The guards forced the three remaining Gryphons onto their knees. The one in the center remained still, his head hunched low. The Gryphon on the right struggled against his captor, refusing to bend the knee, while the Gryphon on the left, who appeared smaller than the other two, merely wept.

The way the Gryphon sounded made him believe it was a hen.

“I present to you a gift, Gansukh. For this… is the reason that I made my offer.” He turned to the Gryphon on the right, grabbing his sackcloth and removing it. The Gryphon looked up and saw Sharp Beak, instantly shrieking at him with his cry echoing on the walls of the mountain. He then continued to cry out, seeing the three Gryphons killed by him. His feathers were bright blue and red, marking him as a Noble. Sharp Beak turned and presented the Gryphon to Gansukh, while the yak leader remained impassive over the whole ordeal.

“This… is Lord Glenwing, Steward and High Castellan of the Castle Gryphonstone. Master of Arms and the Right Claw to the king,” he explained, before moving to the smaller Gryphon.

“It can’t be,” Gretchen muttered, causing Quicksilver to stir and look at her, but was brought back when another shriek came out. The sackcloth over the Gryphon was removed, revealing what he predicted to be a hen. She was at first disoriented, looking around to see what was happening around her. Her feathers were bright blue, almost teal-like. She then froze on the spot when she saw the bodies, her eyes wide and her beak quivering. Sharp Beak then hovered over her, a single talon placed underneath her beak to make her look up to him.

“Little Artemis… You’ve grown into a fine young hen, my dear. It’s been… far too long,” he merely stated, his talons lingering another moment longer before withdrawing them. Her eyes were locked onto his, an unknown fear gripping her and her body trembling at the sight of him.

“No… y-y-you were not- suppose-” she stuttered horribly, never taking her gaze off of him, too frightened to even speak.

What is going on? What is Sharp Beak playing at? Quicksilver thought. Gretchen stiffened once more, her talon clutching his hoof and holding it in an iron grip.

“That’s… I thought she was sent into hiding… then… that means...” Gretchen said, her eyes opening wider and her breath hitched.

Before he could ask her what she was referring to, Sharp Beak stepped to the center Gryphon, whose head hung low to the ground.

“Oh raise your head, you sniveling coward. You knew this was bound to happen,” Sharp Beak stated, his words filled with venom. He grabbed ahold of the top of the Gryphon’s sackcloth and yanked it off his head. The Gryphon’s feathers were a darker color of brown from Sharp Beak‘s, yet there was hints of blue scattered around the edges and around the head. The Gryphon’s head remained low, and did not look up to meet the colonel in the eye. His wings were also drooped, appearing defeated. Sharp Beak raised a clenched claw and smacked him on the side of the head, sending droplets of blood to the ground. Artemis gasped while Glenwing sneered at Sharp Beak. The struck Gryphon didn’t move for a few moments before he lifted his head up further to meet the mad Gryphon.

Gretchen was still, her eyes fixated on the middle Gryphon before them, her wing encompassing Quicksilver only tightening as a result. Quicksilver’s heart was filled with unease, and he tightened his own grip on Gretchen’s claw.

“Sharp Beak, who are these Gryphons? Why are they here?” Gansukh demand, causing the middle Gryphon to look up to meet him in the eye, revealing his bright blue eyes. Sharp Beak looked amused by the yak’s response and chuckled heartily while casting a glance back to the warlord.

“I’ve always hated that last part of that name. I never could reveal my true heritage and who I really am,” he turned around opened his arms up out for all to see. “Until now, that is.”

He slammed a fist into his chest, whipping his head out to the yaks and displaying his mighty wings, appearing to all the world like a granite statue that is to be recognized, respected, and feared. He remained there while he proudly shouted out to everyone in grandiose.

“My true name is Sharpclaw! Son of Bronzeclaw! Grandson of the Great Ravenclaw! I am the Prince of the Gryphon Empire! I am the true born son and heir to the throne!” He paused, looking at the Gryphon prisoners behind him.

“Isn’t that right, Bronzeclaw? Or should I say... Father?”

Author's Note

Another chapter has come. One that tells much of who the colonel really is.

One can only tell what he has planned, but to some, this can only be the beginning.

Stay tuned for a new chapter and find out what happens next.

King's Disposition

A prince!

A bloody prince!

Quicksilver blood boiled in his veins of hearing those words. He would never have guessed that Sharp Beak was even related to royalty, or to anyone famous for that matter. It never even occurred to him during his time with the gryphons that the gryphon nomad was just another power hungry officer seeking fame. Yet, it all made sense to him now. From his constant prattling, to his ego and self claim to glory, it would make him feel superior to those around him.

“Fletching,” Gretchen muttered, her talons tensing slightly underneath his hoof. Quicksilver cast a glance to her, seeing how fixated she was on Sharpclaw. He kept his gaze in front of them and could only watch.

Gansukh was the first to move, lifting his lumbering body out of his seat to stare down at the colonel.

“A prince? Gansukh see’s no prince. Just dumb bird making excuses.” he took one step forward to him. “Why should Gansukh believe you?”

“Because I can give you what you want,” Sharpclaw stated, turning to Glenwing first and foremost. The older gryphon glared at him, showing nothing but contempt for the colonel claiming princehood.

“Glenwing… you remember me, don't you?” he asked, his voice sounding droll and threatening, “I remember clearly how when I once sought entrance to the castle you were there personally to bare me from entering.”

“You no damn well as to why. I should not waste my breath to a cretin like you.” Glenwing grumbled, his eyes never leaving him.

He lingered on the old gryphon for a moment, reminiscing on some faint memory, before moving to the king, watching him with predator eyes for any sudden movements. He seemed to almost sneer at him, showing nothing but contempt for Bronzeclaw.

“Do you have anything to say father? Or should I even call you that at all since you rejected everything that I astound to?” he said, clenching one of his talons into a fist. The king said nothing, staring out to some distant plain, not even showing interest to what Sharpclaw had to say. Sharpclaw spat at his father, the spittle landing on his face, but he did not move in the slightest. Sharpclaw chuffed at this and bended down to meet him, “And to think that our family line had such a weak and feckless king. When I’m done the gryphon empire will have not a king, but they shall have their first emperor.” he stated, and walked over to Artemis, who was shaking considerably when he approached.

“Little Artemis,” he said, low and chilling, “I remember that you and I played with each other outside in the gardens. We have met several times over the years and always enjoyed our meetings. Don’t you remember sister?” he hunched low, his face in front of her and she peeled her eyes away from him.

“T-t-t-t that was b-b-b-efore I knew what happened and who you were. Y-y-y-you attacked my friend f-f-f-for giving me a kit. I-I-I loved that little kit.” she stammered out her words, clearly fearful of him being so close. He didn’t bother with her being afraid, for he brought out a talon and brought it under her chin and pulled it until they were facing each other once again.

“It was for good reason. I only wanted companionship and being siblings. I merely removed an obstacle that stood before me.”

“B-b-but you killed that baby fox, and I never s-s-saw my friend again,” she replied meekly. He made a harrumph sound and brought her closer, ensuring that their eyes met.

“A filthy and disgusting beast that was going to take your love. He was attempting to steal you away from me. It was a good thing I cornered him and clipped his wings. It served him right for trying to steal what was mine.” he claimed and Artemis gasped, appalled at what he claimed to have done. Quicksilver shuddered slightly from the thought.

To clip one’s wings is to take away their freedom to move through the skies. To be grounded and to be forced to defend yourself from the predators below.

That is a fate that is worse than death.

Sharpclaw mingled around Artemis, enjoying toying with her and her emotions. He leaned into her taking a whiff of her and she squirmed in his grip, yet he held her firmly and did not relinquish his hold. He was enjoying himself and his control over her and the given situation. While this happened Quicksilver noticed that the king had turned his head to face him, and Quicksilver was barely able to see that the king had been fixated on him for his daughter's treatment.

“Maybe you can keep me company tonight, catch up with what was once lost.” he said in an alluring manner. Artemis fidgeted in place, trying to get away from him and her eyes bulged in fear at what he might do to her.

“Get your filthy talons off her you bastard!” a strong baritone voice spoke out. Sharpclaw turned to his father, who was looking at him now. “If you so much as harm her I will tear your claws off and rip your eyes from their sockets,” the king threatened, despite being in the position he was in. Sharpclaw looked amused, letting go of Artemis while he tranced around the king, amused by his sudden backbone. Sharpclaw chuckled to himself, standing over the king while the latter snorted in both frustration and anger.

“Finally have spine now do you? Your only interested if it involves your family… or a brother in arms… or a whore to take your anger on and leave behind.” He said with much scorn and bitterness.

“What happened in the past remains as such. You’re a bastard and will always remain one,” King Bronzeclaw replied, “ I thought your mother taught you that much,” he said with a guile grin. Yet, despite the bravado, a swift strike from Sharpclaw sent him to the ground, the king spitting blood through his beak. Sharpclaw lowered himself, staring at the helpless king.

“If you did not abandon her then this would never have happened. You sidled up with that whore hen and had Artemis, making her the heir when by all accounts it should have been me. Now I take what's mine and all that you hold dear will belong to the true and rightful heir.” he said, pausing when he heard a scuffle nearby.

Quicksilver eyed the equine moving erratically, agitated over what was happening and thrashing about against their captors. The guards raise a rope around his neck to keep him steady yet the equine yanked his head back and the two tumbled forward. The equine lifted its wings which look leathery and bat like and was a head taller than normal, almost about the same height as some of the other guards. The gryphons in question were struggling against the equines strength, yet they held firm, holding him down with the rope that binds him. Sharpclaw seemed to grin at this and he snapped his talons to his guards.

“Bring him here,” he said, ushering them forward. The guards managed to pull the thestral forward and in front of the three captors. While they struggled with the prisoner Sharpclaw gave his flintlock to Black Talon, the corpulent and greasy gryphon took it without question and was reloading the weapon with ease. When the thestral was placed firmly between the prisoners and himself did Gansukh snorted in irritation.

“What trickery is this now?” the Kahn shouted, stamping his mighty hooves into the ground and making small indents into the snow. Behind him his brother cackled.

“This is but a gift, Gansukh.” Sharpclaw spoke, placing a talon onto the cloth sack and pulling it free off the thestrals head. The Thestral lifted it’s head, folded its tuft ears, opening it’s bright yellow eyes and hissed directly at him. Without warning the yaks nearby skittered back, all of them shouting and raising their horns at the thesatral. Some shouted in their native tongue, while other warriors pointed their horns at the thestral like it was some beast ready to eat them. A few among them began rubbing the tips of their horns and Gansukh remained where he was, impassive but snorted in anger at the thestral, while his brother screamed out and stamped his hooves into the ground.

Sharpclaw said nothing, taking his time with how the yaks reacted and give a calculated look to their response. Quicksilver wondered if he had intended this. Behind the colonel the three gryphon prisoners stared at the thestral, clear worry and fear grew for him.

“Judging by your obvious disdain for this creature, it stands to count that you naturally fear it.” he stated, to which Gansukh held his head up high and snorted in vexation.

“You insult Yak courage? Yak crush you for insult!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, readying his horns for a fight. However, he hesitated when the thestral male was bucking from his restraints from the guards and his wings flapping about at a rapid pace. The thestral managed to shake off one of the guards by throwing him off and take to the air. The two other guards held onto the rope, attempting to restrain the thestral before it could escape. The yaks that the thestral hovered over, shuddered and backed away a few feet, shouting and wailing out in apparent alarm.

“Get ahold of him you fools!” Black Talon shouted, the portly gryphon finishing reloading the weapon for his leader.

Sharpclaw took a few steps forward, grabbing onto the end of the rope and knocking his guards out of the way. The thestral shouted and chittered, flying in rapid circles in the sky and trying to break the hold of the gryphon. Yet despite the edge of being in the air, Sharpclaw held his position, barely moving and hardly braking a sweat.

“Chotgor!” one of the yaks shouted, cowering behind an elder warrior, but even though the warrior was older, he looked rather intimidated by the bat like creature. Other warriors around the camp were no better, all fixated on the thestral that would seemed to pose a threat, even when they outnumber it a hundred to one.

What’s a Chotgor? Quicksilver thought, watching the thestral desperate struggle in the air. He panted and struggled, trying to break free. Yet, the rope around his neck was tight, and surprisingly, Sharpclaw had never lost his guard. Instead, he seemed to enjoy the challenge of holding onto his prey.

Minutes to what felt like an hour flew by, the thestral still beating his wings, hissing to all and trying to escape into the sky. Yet, as time passed, his strength waned, his breath became ragged, and he could not break free. Sharpclaw's own breath was ragged, but he still held on, and every now and then pulled the thestral towards him, inching him closer to the gryphons dreaded talons. The yaks watched on while Sharpclaw continued his tug of war. Many had not cowered once before but still remained at the ready, while others looked on in amusement at the struggling thestral.

Another precarious minute passed and the thestral was losing his strength, his flapping wings was no longer holding the same tempo and remained a slow freefall. Foam seemed to appear at the edge of his mouth and his breath came out in ragged desperate breaths. This encourages Sharpclaw and he twisted the ropes in his talons before yanking hard on the rope.

The thestral was thrown out of the sky in a whiplash and struck the ground hard with a solid thump.

The thestral coughed and gagged, trying desperately to get back up but was too exhausted to move. While he remained there, Sharpclaw held onto the rope, gazing at his prisoner and a cruel smile grace his beak. A cruel machination building in his mind of what he was wanting to do.

“These creatures are just like you. They bleed and die just as you!” Sharpclaw called, out to all around him. The yaks remained where they were. A few fearful, others impassive. Gansukh remained where he was, his eyes remained fixated on the thestral that continued to struggle with the rope. “These beasts, the ones that have put fear into your hearts and minds for many years will finally be put to rest,” he began walking to the thestral, still holding onto the rope. The Thestral noticed this and tried to crawl away, but he didn’t get far as Sharpclaw put the talon down onto his back.

“Yaks! Gryphons! I have proposed this alliance, to defeat back against the equines and these barbaric creatures. I have spent many years interrogating these beasts and I have found that their homeland, the very birthplace of these vermin, has been discovered. I offer a choice! Live in fear and to remain dormant in your lands. Or join us, fight back against the Equestrians, take over their lands! Conquer to your heart's desire! And above all, you can kill the very beasts that plague you, down to their last child!” he shouted, releasing the rope and grabbing a hold of the thestral’s wings.

The thestral panicked, struggling in his grip while he slowly began to pull on his wings. The twisted smile that Sharpclaw had turned to a sneer of pure malice, placing his back paw in between the wings of the thestral. The poor equine began to scream out, feeling his wings being painfully pulled. The sound of bones popping out of their sockets and a shrill scream echoed across the walls around the camp.

Quicksilver shuddered along with Gretchen, hearing the bones break and crack under the pressure and the shuddering holler that the thestral gave out. He continued to wince while the thestral clawed into the ground, trying his best to get away from him. Shouting came out from both the king and from Glenwing, but their voices were muted from the horrifying ear splitting screams. Sharpclaw placed his paw down onto his neck, forcing his face to be in the snow. Tears streamed down the thestrals cheeks, continuing to scream out. Sharpclaw’s arms and shoulders began to bulge from overexertion and the sound of breaking bones were heard in the thestrals wings.

“For even these beasts bleed!” Sharpclaw shouted, emphasizing the last words, and with a final effort yanked on the thestals wings.

The wings were torn off his back completely leaving only two bloody stubs from the thestrals back.

Gretchen turned her head away, pressing into Quicksilver mane while he was mortified by what he did, sickened to the core. Sharpclaw held onto the broken wings, leaving the appendages to bleed and form into tiny pools of blood on either side of him. His prey remained immobile, a wordless cry escaping him at first before crying out, low and heart wrenching. Blood rushed out from the two gaping wounds, spurting out in search of where part of his wings were still attached. It only splattered the snow in hot crimson red.

While his victim writhed and moaned in agony, a sound of quivering fear he seemed to make, Sharpclaw dropped the leathery wings and snapped his talon to his company. One of the gryphons carrying a torched moved over to him, offering a source of light to the mad prince. Without even pausing to acknowledge him Sharpclaw grabbed the torched and thrusted into the open wound of the thestral.

The thestral arched his back and screamed anew, half moaning and half screeching he shouted to the sky from the pain that he was enduring. Quicksilver and Gretchen flinched from the direct contact and even they had to look away from the torture. Sharpclaw kept the torch their for a few seconds until he moved to the second bloody stub. Another cry but less potent as the first escaped past the thestrals lips before his eyes rolled back into his head and collapsed into the snow in front of him. He had passed out when Sharpclaw was done, removing the torch and giving it back to his guard. The two stubs were cauterized, blackened and bloodied, where visible veins bleed between the cracks.

“You blackhearted monster,” King Bronzeclaw spoke, Sharpclaw turned to him amused. The king had his head held up, his eyes fixated on his son, while Artemis looked on and wept for the thestral. Glenwing could only stare vehemently at Sharpclaw, ready to spring on him and tear him apart, if it weren't for the bonds that held him there.. Sharpclaw observed the silent thestral for a brief moment before turning to his father, who still held no shortage of anger.

“I see you were quite fond of him.” he said, gesturing a talon to the thestral, who remained near motionless and bloodied on the snow floor, “I take it you found this mongrel starving out in the wilderness? Did you take pity and raise him as your own? Or were you planning on giving Artemis to him like she was some cheap tramp while you contemplate how good of a son he might be to you.”

“Leave her out of this! Leave the equine who has helped us out of this! You know nothing, Sharpclaw. You know nothing of the mantle of responsibility when ruling. You were not not meant to rule!” the king said, his body stiffening up and appearing all the more regal. The sneer returned to his son's face, turning to face the king.

“We are blood! You are my sire and your blood flows through me! I am not some mongrel for you to cast aside!” he called out, his claws clenching and his arms bulged once again.

“You and I are not of blood. I have never accepted you. I have never claimed you. For that reason alone, you have no right or authority to the throne.” he said, still keeping his back straight and not once backing down. The other gryphons behind him remained unmoved by his words and it only spurned Sharpclaw even further. Without a word he began moving forward, standing on his back legs while his wings were outstretched to keep himself balanced. He stretched his right claw out towards Black Talon, where the corpulent gryphon stretched out his claw with the flintlock. Sharpclaw seized it and checked it and examined the weapon, all the while moving closer to his father. Bronzeclaw saw this and scoffed before turning his head to see the gryphons behind him.

“Know this! Sons of Gryphonstone! Death will come swiftly to those who follow this path! You throw your life away for a tyrant who will not know how to lead, to govern nor even be able to lead the people. He will bring ruin and destruction to our lands, our people will starve as he hoards everything to himself! He will strip our resources, squander them until there is nothing for us and we will be forced to fight to survive! Think of the thousands if not millions of gryphons yet to be born? They will never know anything of what makes us united and strong, what makes our society function. Will be nothing about a warmongering race!

"His damn pride will be his undoing and he is willing to tear down the very fabric of our culture!” he shouted, a stern and determined expression plastered on his face. Many of the older gryphons there remained where they were, unfazed by his words. However, near the back, a few young bloods and harried youths looked uneasily to each other.

Quicksilver could only imagine they were doubting what Sharpclaw had to say but as far as he could tell it was a guess at this point.

The king turned to face Sharpclaw, who was already standing in front of him and his flintlock resting at his side. Sharpclaw looked irritated if not infuriated, his eyes fixated on the gryphon who he considers his father. His talon gripped tightly on the flintlock and he snorted at him. Bronzeclaw ignored the weapon he carried and gave an equally determined if not aggravated look in return.

“You heard me little juvenile. What you do is tearing apart our very culture asunder. Your actions are tearing down our traditions, our society, our honor! You have no idea what you are about to do and we will be in unceasing war and endless terrors to befall our very nation. The very heart of our country will become desolate because you are not ready for this!” He shouted, clear condemnation coming forth from him. Sharpclaw remained where he was, silent and his eyes never leaving him.

When he didn’t reply back the king continued ranting on.

“Don’t you realize what folly you have committed? The lives that you have taken and ruined just to serve your twisted pleasure? Some self satisfaction? All of this in an attempt to become closer to being a leader? You don’t know the true meaning of being a leader, for you are refuse that is to be cast aside!” he shouted, and a venomous sneer spread across Sharpclaw’s face.

“Are you quite finished coward?” Sharpclaw spoke, his flintlock lifting ever slightly from its original position. Bronzeclaw didn’t relent and continued on his charade.

“You have been going against our backs, turning friends into rivals! Turning some of our hated enemies to ally with us and spitting upon our ancestors tombstones and what they have endured. This will never be forgotten yet your name will be cast aside and to never be met on the lips of non gryphons and our own race. For as long as our race has the Strength of Heart, Strength of body, the Strength of Mind, we will always be united against your rule.” he proclaimed, still standing up for himself and against Sharpclaw.

Sharpclaw lifted the flintlock, hovering in front of Bronzeclaw and his talon on the trigger.

“Any last words? Or will you give me useless drabble and false bravado?” Sharpclaw asked, his voice cold and unmoving. Bronzeclaw spat at the ground in front of him.

“Go ahead! Kill me! Do your worse your cretin.”

“Father no!” Artemis shouted in abject fear.

“My king!” Glenwing called out, showing much concern for his liege.

Gretchen had tightened her claw around Quicksilver’s hoof and his hurt wing instinctively secured around her frame. Sharpclaw remained still, his eyes never leaving him and, from what Quicksilver could guess, an aura of malice surrounded him for his father and for what he is.

“No this, my bastard son,” the king spoke once again, low but directed. “No matter what you do, no matter how high you climb, the tower of your pride will come crashing down. When the hammer falls, breaking your throne brick by brick, will you see that I was right, and that your venture into this madness will only consume you. By Saint Gregor himself, your life will end and your soul will have no rest for all eternity. You are unworthy of the throne! For I, King Bronzeclaw, will be the last king of the Gryphon empire!” Once finished, he was silent, awaiting his death at the barrel of the gun. Sharpclaw inhaled and closed his eyes.

The shot rang out.

Both Quicksilver and Gretchen’s breath hitched, the cry from Artemis was short but brief and Glenwing only looked to the side of the ground.

King Bronzeclaw still stood, a large hole in the ground was at his side, where it began to smolder.

The king was alive.

Sharpclaw had moved his weapon a few inches to the side and purposely missed the king. Bronzeclaw still looked up to his son. He looked stunned, if not dazed, and yet he remained unharmed. However, a cold sweat seemed to break out of the king, and his unwavering eyes were now shaken and his fortitude had collapsed. His life would have been snuffed right then and there, and now the king has been reduced to his former self, downtrodden and defeated.

Sharpclaw turned the gun nonchalantly to the side, with Black Talon easily taking it out of his grip, and kept his gaze remaining on his father. He took a step forward and bent down to meet him square in the eye.

“You live because I let you. But know this father, of what I am about to do.” he said, leaning in and speaking in his ear.

“I will take everything from you. All that you have loved, all that you have cherished, will be cast aside and destroyed. I will change our nation for the better and you will not stop me from achieving what I want. You will watch as your precious city of gryphonstone is reduced to ruin and rubble and rebuilt to how I see fit. The tribe of Nomads will rise, the tribe of nobles will fall, and the Arch Gryphons will be enslaved and die out with their pathetic religion and useless dogma.” he paused, lifting a claw and clasping it around his father’s neck.

“You will see that our culture be changed, our very society turned, and the few and the powerful will control over the weak and feckless deplorables that seek to usurp my rightful place as king. I will reshape them in my own image and ensure that the true gryphon heritage will be in place. All records of our old history be burned and no trace will be left of it while I forge a new path forward for the glory of the gryphon empire. You will watch as I do all of this and conquer the lands beyond our borders. Conquer the lands of the equines and their monarchs until they will be shouting out their lungs of who the true masters of this world is.” he paused, leaning back so that he was facing him directly in the eye, and Quicksilver was able to see the horrified expression of Bronzeclaw grow ever grim. While Sharpclaw only smiled, and a glimmer appeared in his left eye, where the three claw mark scar was present.

“Once the world you know has been burned… turned to ash and dust upon the winds… then you have my permission to die.” Sharpclaw said, standing up and taking one step back away from his father. He turned his sights on Artemis, who fidgeted in fear of his gaze. “Starting with her… she will be the first to be taken from you.” he claimed and began moving towards her.

“No! No! Not my daughter! Anything but her!” Bronzeclaw cried out, finally getting out of his stupor. The king was silenced when Sharpclaw whirled around and back clawed him, sending him to the ground and lying next to the equine nearby.

“Take her to my tent, I’ll be with her soon enough.” Sharpclaw ordered and Black Talon came over to pick her up and off the ground. She struggled in vain, calling out for her father while being dragged off. The crowd parted for Black Talon while he dragged her through the snow and towards parts unknown within the camp. Her screams grew ever distant as she was taken away.

“See to these rabble dog, place him with the other prisoners.” Sharpclaw stated, and Lupin began moving forward towards Bronzeclaw and Glenwing. He got Glenwing up, the old gryphon shaking him off and was walking on his own accord instead of being forced to. Lupin went over to Bronzeclaw and picked him and placed him onto one shoulder, carrying the king who remained stunned and, from what Quicksilver could be able to tell, had tears streaming down his cheeks and beak. After a moment Lupin was able to get Glenwing moving in the right direction while he followed behind. He did pause, however, and sniffed the air for a brief moment and his ears perked up if he had heard something. After a few seconds past Lupin escorted the two to the right side of the camp, past towards a darkened areas unknown.

“Sharpclaw,” a deep voice from Gansukh spoke, standing right behind the gryphon leader. The gryphon turned to him, seeing the large yak was on his back legs, appearing twice as tall and mighty to the gryphon. He stared down, his eyes judging with a simple questioning gaze. After a moment of silence Gansukh smiled wide and slapped a hoof onto the gryphon’s shoulder.

“Gansukh like you. Show strength…. Intimidation…. Sadistic and brutal. Yak like these things. Yak will work with you.” he turned to his fellow yaks, pounding a fist into his chest and laughing to his fellow warriors.

“Gryphons and Yaks work together! Alliance between our peoples! Feast until you can’t stand no more! Drink until your bellies burst! For once we're done! We march to war!” He shouted and was greeted with the thunderous roar of the yaks and piercing shrieks of the gryphons filled the air, so loud was their cry the very mountains shook from their call to war. The Kahn’s brother laughing and hollering equally the loudest amongst them.

While they continued to cry out, warriors set out and brought out dishes and food to the center of the camp. Several yaks brought many large kegs and started to break them open and many of the warriors immediately went for whatever concoction was in. The feast began in earnest and much talk had filled the air. Sharpclaw had almost vanished amongst the throng of warriors, being spotted every so often speaking to the Gansukh.

“We have to get out of here.” Quicksilver muttered to Gretchen, withdrawing his wing from her and wanting to back away.

“No,” Gretchen uttered low and quiet that Quicksilver barely caught her.

“What do you mean no?” he asked, looking at her with concern.

“We have to rescue them. We have to rescue the king.” she explained, her eyes never once leaving the throng of warriors that were boisterous and celebrating like there was no tomorrow.

“Rescue the King? Its to dangerous, there are guards everywhere and the longer we linger the more likely some gryphon might discover our hiding spot. I don’t like those odds whatsoever.” he said, knowing that there was no doubt that some gryphon could potentially spot them and drag them before Sharpclaw and the menacing yaks.

“Which is why we will remain here. Will bring our gear underneath here and we will wait it out until it gets dark enough and the warriors are either asleep or too drunk enough to stand.”

“But… Gretchen… I know the king means to you but if we get caught we will not survive this.” he warned, looking out to the throng of warriors who can no doubt take them out with ease. Particularly with those yaks as well.

“Fletchling, if we do not save them then their kingdom, 'MY' very culture. Shall be destroyed. I will not allow this warmonger to bring savages into our lands and to bring ruin and death upon both of our people. So you will wait right here and I will gather our gear.” she said, and without another word or even his reply she removed herself away from his side and the sudden chill came over. Quicksilver shivered slightly and watched as she disappeared behind the brush. He waited there for a few moments, contemplating on what she was going to do. Yet, if they could escape, trying to find a path out of this camp and to safety. He had to get them both out.

He had to get her out of here.

Yet… she was determined to get her king back. She would only think of him as a coward for suggesting the chances to escape and he didn’t want to have a complication to occur while they escaped.

It didn’t take long to hear the soft crunch of snow and the dragging of their bags when Gretchen appeared back underneath the brush. She quickly settled the bags behind them and pulled the heavy fur blanket out. She settled the blanket over herself and brought it tight around her neck. She eyed him and a half smile graced her beak.

“You know, even if you want to leave, you can’t get down these mountains fast enough with your wings.” she said and it dawned on him how right she was.

I wish my wings were better, he thought, a gloom hung over his head on how he neglected his wounded wings. It seemed now that he had no choice but to rescue the king.

“*Sigh* I’ll help you, okay Gretchen. You’ve helped me more times then one, and I will help you save the king.” he replied. This earned a warm smile from her and she settled onto the ground.

“Thank you Fletching. That means a lot to me.” she said, cozying herself up inside the blanket. Silverwing curled his eyebrow to her and gestured to the blanket.

“Ah… may I join in? It’s rather cold, even under this thicket.” he asked, and she looked up to him and a flash of red appeared on her feathery cheeks.

“Oh… of course.” she then proceeded to lift the cover with her left wing, granting him entry. He crawled in and huddled close to her side, the heavy blanket going over them and wrapping them in a warm cocoon of warmth. She settled her left wing over him and he instinctively wrapped his right leg over her back. She purred at the reaction and huddled closer, enough that the blanket can cover and wrap underneath him.

Purring again already? He thought, amused by her little affection, where she leaned into him and rested her head against his neck. He didn’t think of it and decided to wait where they were, the camps inhabitants celebrating in some twisted fashion for the war to come, while unbeknownst to them that two trespassers where secretly watching over them.

Hammer felt sick to his stomach as he sat in front of the fire.

He had spent many hours with Silverwing while she had wept for her brother, and he had been consoling her as best he could. He had tried to remind her of the good things that would come with the war over and that they could go back to their homes. Yet, despite the tidings of peace and prosperity to come, she was downtrodden and broken.

It was near nightfall when he went outside and the sun was going down in the distance. The rest of the camp was no different either on how they felt. Many had heard her cries and they all had the same experience. They all had a strong loyalty to her and what she managed to do for the company. Her emotions was theirs and many did not share much joy of the long war to be over. He had seen a few of the guards and several cervine sending their regards or trying to check in on her and ensure that she's okay. Yet, each one was sent away and a gloom hung over a few of them in turn.

The only ones that were not upset by all of this was the three messengers, who were sitting on the opposite side of the campfire.

The three had a long journey to get here, and they were chatting about how great the war was over and that they can get on with their lives. One claimed he was going to marry his mare, another to build a tavern back in Canterlot, while the leader of the group was boisterous and trying to cheer up the camps inhabitants in song and drink.

He was only partially successful in turning them away.

He remained, however, wanting to get an extra bit of warmth from the fire, but also to think about the war.

It had been so long since he thought of going back home and he remembered a few old friends that had joined the war effort and were sent elsewhere. He wondered if any would recognize him and considered him to be their friend, given all that has happened. He wanted to go and… do anything he wanted. He could have his own home, his own life and a wife.

He looked down, sadness apparent on his face as he even considered that. He had thought to much of Silverwing to even push for that and yet he didn’t want to ask the question, not while she is going through this. He wanted nothing more than to be there, to be her moral anchor and support, yet, he knew not how best to comfort her without turning her away.

“A storm is coming from the north in a few hours!” the watchman at the top of the wall shouted out, “Be sure to get inside before it gets dark, this might be a long one.” he kept shouting, repeating his words to ensure everyone was heading back inside.

Hammer stood up from the campfire and turned to the tent he was sleeping, dreading to walk inside. He passed by a few familiar faces as he moved. Anvil was talking with Swift Leaf as they headed for their tent. Charger was getting the other equines and dogs back to their tents with Shadow Hunter assisted in tying down the supplies in case the wind might come. While he wanted to go and check on them, to see how they were faring, he did not have the heart to go to them.

When he neared the tent he saw Cooper was lying down on the ground, his head low and his ears flat. He had seen him there ever since he had exited out. He had been waiting and watching over the tent while Silverwing remained inside. He wondered if there was something that Cooper wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to ask, or maybe it was some deeper instinct that kept him there. Whatever it was, he was determined to remain there. When Hammer got near the entrance Cooper was able to perk his head up from the ground.

“Will Silverwing be okay?” he asked, his ears still flat and his eyes looked rather saddened. Hammer stopped and turned to him, seeing the yellow, almost golden from the fire nearby, diamond dog and that downcast expression he was giving. Hammer looked down and shook his head.

“I don’t know, Cooper. I honestly don’t know,” Hammer replied, pulling the tent flap aside.

“I hope she’s okay. Seeing Silverwing sad makes me sad.” Cooper stated before resting his head back on the ground and remained staring at the tent entrance. Hammer sighed before entering inside.

“Please go to your tent, a storm’s coming,” Hammer said but Cooper didn’t respond and remained there, and he didn’t care either.

Once inside he saw Silverwing’s form underneath the blanket and she hadn't moved from that spot since he left. He could still hear her sniveling and her body hugging the blankets to herself. He moved over to her and sat on his side of the bed, taking at least part of the blanket to stay warm. He looked at the back of her mane, seeing the single blue strand going down. She didn’t acknowledge him or even speak up, and kept remaining there.

“Sleep well Silverwing,” he muttered softly. She didn’t reply, to choked up on her tears. He rested his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. Praying in his heart that somehow she will be okay.

And pray that he could find the right words to ease her weary heart.

Quicksilver stirred in his rest and cracked open an eye. He didn’t hear the sounds of uproarious laughter, drinking and shouting of the camp. He didn’t hear the squawking and the singing from the gryphons either. No clacking of hooves, no banging of armor, no butting of horns.

It was silent as the grave.

That is until he heard a loud snore coming from within the camp.

The camp was officially gone quiet, except for the motionless forms of some of the gryphons and yaks near the low fire. The gryphons and yaks had celebrated for hours on end and long into the night. The two had alternate watches each hour just so they didn’t fall asleep. They both ate snow, at Gretchen’s suggestion, and were able to hide their breath while they observed and rest. It was long and grueling, and each hour the camp would grow less and less boisterous. He feared that if they didn’t get to sleep soon then they would not be able to sneak in and find the king. This was the only time they had to get inside and find him.

Quicksilver turned to Gretchen, who was sleeping next to him, and prodded into her shoulder. He chuckled a bit from the way she batted away his hoof and tried to nuzzle into him further. A deep fuzzy feeling prickled in his chest and it warmed his body over it. It felt strange how comfortable she was in this given situation. It felt like a week ago since they left the main camp of the gryphons that she was still angry with him. She was less hostile and more friendly after her uncle’s death and the hot spring and that was less than two days ago. Now, she is fine having these little ministrations and was really close to him.

He could only imagine why the sudden change of emotions from her and accepting of him. He could only guess that after all that has happened she needed someone to hold onto. Yet the way she acted in the hotspring and the way he felt to her and almost sharing a kiss. He thought maybe things were moving a little to fast for comfort. It was almost as if...

Ugh I can’t believe I fell asleep on the watch. He chastises himself, and shaking his head to get his mind out of the skies. He then prodded once again and Gretchen stirred from her rest.

“Gretchen… wake up. Everything is quiet.” he said, a little drowsy. She shook her head and looked about with him in the camp. There were several bodies on the floor of the camp, all tuckered out and asleep. She surveyed the campgrounds, ensuring that everyone was out like a light. He also looked about as well, spotting the noticeable blood spot where the thestral had laid. He could only fathom as to where he was now, or if he was dead.

“Good, everygryphon is asleep, “ Gretchen said, lowering the leaves and brush away as she adjusted herself, “We can get in now without consequence and,” she paused, blushing at first before turning to meet Quicksilver in the eye with a confused if not alluring look.

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was giving that weird look.

“Did you bring my uncle’s sword with you or are you just happy to see me?” she replied, her eyes darting behind her and gesturing to where their legs had intermingled underneath the blanket.

A heavy blush covered his face, threatening to turn his blue coat into purple if he stayed there. After another uncomfortable moment between them, and she had not stopped staring at him, he quietly untangled himself out of the warm blanket and walked out of the brush. He then proceeded to sit down in the snow and shivered from the contact of his rump in the cold damp ground.

How come I didn’t notice!? When did our legs get intermingled? When did I even… this is so embarrassing, He thought, trying to get his mind off what just transpired. Memories of their interactions within the hot spring surfaced up, burning in intensity in his mind. In an attempt to try and get his mind off things he began reciting the boring lessons that he was taught in basic training and the numerous taunts he had received from being the younger sibling to Silverwing. After another few moments outside, and feeling the snow comes down on top of him he had snapped out of his stupor and he turned to see Gretchen standing nearby with their gear.

“I’m so sorry,” Quicksilver said in a hushed voice. Gretchen merely chuckled and shook her head.

“Don’t be sorry, it was just natural.” she said before giving his gear to him, the blanket she had stored with her pack. “C'mon, we can talk later, we have to move.” she said, moving down the path and away from camp.

“I thought we are going into the camp from here?” he asked, gesturing to where the light was.

“Yes, but not through here. Remember that second path that lead further in? I think we can sneak through their and reach the back without incident.” she explained and he nodded at her suggestion.

Once he strapped his gear the two moved back down the path they had taken hours prior, the ground having been covered up from fresh snow. High winds were heard above the peaks and it was possible a storm was approaching the mountains. If they had to get in and out they would have to be quick as possible.

Once they reached the fork in the path they turned left, heading deeper past the small crevice and towards what was possibly behind the enemy camp. It took them a few minutes as they moved down the path, the crunching of snow and their breathing was the only noise they made. After another moment of silence he had to perk up to her.

“I’m surprised how calm you were about what happened back there,” he asked in a quiet tone.

“Why? It’s nothing to fret over fletchling.” she replied in a calm manner.

“Then why are you fine with it? Not a few days ago you were still upset with me and yet now we have been far closer and almost accepting. Why is that Gretchen? Is this something you gryphons have when making friends?” he asked, this time causing Gretchen to blush.

“Well it’s not that simple and not the time to bring up,” she replied, albeit a little hastily.

“Then can you tell me what it is then?” he asked, his mind getting the better of him, “Does it have to do with some gryphon cus…” he stopped mid sentence when she turned to him and pointed a talon in his face.

“Listen fletching, I can answer all of those questions in due time.” she explained, a blush still visible on her feathers. “It is important but hard to explain, you gotta trust me and that I will explain everything to you later.” she said and began walking forward, quickening her pace from him.

I’ll hold you up to it.

He followed her down the path when it began to widen up. Gretchen stopped just ahead and he walked alongside her. He slightly gasped as to what they were seeing. It was a large rock alcove that stretched for at least a hundred feet across in either direction. On the far wall opposite of them were a dozen or so wooden cages that held something within, yet whoever was inside were clumped together and it was hard to tell who was there. In the center of the room was a fire that was still ablaze, giving some modicum of light. On the wall that they were on was a small cliff that went down about a good ten feet, where there were two massive trees and large bushes that hung there and all around the wall near them. Along the rock alcove there were no other entrance save for the large one heading into the camp.

“This is it, leave the gear here,” Gretchen said, taking off her gear and setting it onto the ground away from the edge.

“Why are we leaving our things here?” he asked, following her lead.

“We don’t want to attract any noise and if we get into a fight, I don’t want to be slowed down.” she explained, stretching her wings for a test flight.

“And the sword?” he gestured to the blade.

“Makes too much noise. If we get into a massive scuffle the whole camp will be on us.” she said as she began flapping her wings and hovered in the air. She placed her talons around his midsection and began flapping upward, carrying him with her. The two went into the air and went towards the brush below. After a few precarious adjustments and gliding their way down past the trees they landed in the snow. Grethcen let's go and the two looked about the room. Quicksilver spotted the cages and saw a few gryphons within them, some he had not met. Gretchen gasped and she took a few steps forward while her eyes settled upon the cages. While fixated on one of the cages a soft whine was coming from within one of them.

“Wait a second… those cages there… they are filled with diamond dogs.” she said, pointing at the cages and the subtle movement of a few diamond dogs moving inside. Quicksilver stood behind her, equally as surprised as she was.

“Why would there be diamond dogs here?” he asked, seeing one of the diamond dogs stir within, only for a rumble to shake the ground. The dogs huddled and whimpered as a deep noise came around them. They looked about the room of the rock alcove in front of them, but didn’t see anyone or any guard nearby.

‘Mala ptica. Mali konj.” (Little bird. Little horse.)A deep rumbling voice, low and threatening, came from behind them. The two froze on the spot, and Quicksilver felt his heart quickened. The sound of rustling leaves and chains were heard and a groaning sound of oak being pushed aside. A breath pushed past him, rippling across his back and tingling his spine. Quicksilver dared to take a look back, to see what was behind them.

His heart stopped in his chest and his breath hitched at to what he saw. He saw his own reflection through a large single eye that staring back at him from the light.

“Koji blagdan da jedem?” (Which feast shall I eat?)

Author's Note

Here it is the new long awaited chapter. Apologies for the long wait. I had been busy with school for the past few months. Some family issues, some brain farts, and stuck in... well you know.

To top that off the editor of this fantastic story of mine has recently resigned. I can explain things in the update which will be posted here. Please do check it out and what it means for the story and the future going forward.

Art belongs to Turnipberry. Go check out there work here.
https://www.deviantart.com/turnipberry/art/Commission-for-b25Roman-813029580

Courage

Quicksilver was frozen on the spot.

There was never once in his life he was ever terrified. He faced many battles, fought many a foe and killed many that threatened him and the equines on his side. Yet, despite all that, in the face of all that he has been through, Quicksilver had never seen something so frightening in his life. That terrible great eye of the cyclops was staring back at him and he felt within himself that it was staring through his soul.

“Kockica poput tebe.” (A morsel like you shall do.) The monster spoke slow, in a language that he could not comprehend nor understand. It’s voice made his fur stand on end, the sound of grinding boulders and breaking bark slow and grinding made him overwrought with fear. He tried to flee, to escape its gaze, but he remained in place, petrified at the monstrous creature. The cyclops, it’s sideways rectangular eye staring at him, grinned from ear to ear, revealing a horrible row of sharp canine teeth.

Quicksilver’s heart was thudding against his chest, a quivering breath escaped him and he broke into a cold sweat. His legs buckled and he sat on his haunches and he shook considerably as he stared back at its teeth. The creature opened its mouth, a nauseating breath escaped it, making Quicksilver’s eyes water and gag at the breath and paralyzing with fear.

Run! Run! His mind shouted, screaming for his instincts to kick in and to bolt away. Yet, his body remained unmoving, his limbs rigid and planted into the ground. The rows of teeth slowly hovered closer to him, seeing the back of it’s throat and what awaited if he was to remain there.

Run damn you run! His mind howled at him, urging him repeatedly to bolt. Yet, he remained where he was, his body shaking too much and ignoring his mind’s responses. The cyclops mouth came over, hovering over his head with it’s mouth and everything was growing darker.

“I’m going to die,” Quicksilver muttered, feeling his neck tense and prompting him to scream.

What he didn’t suspect next, nor was able to realize, was for a firm claw to wrap around his neck and yanking him away. He was pulled to the ground and his body slapped against the soft feathers of Gretchen as she pulled him away, just inches from where the monster clapped it’s teeth shut. The two fell into the snow in a tangled mess. Yet, the cyclops massive eye turned to them and the creature snorted in frustration. The sound of breaking bark and popping of bones came out as the creature stood up, his height towering over them and the trees above them.

“Nećeš me izbeći.” (You will not escape me.) The creature stated, and began moving toward them, it’s arms outstretched and his large paws trying to reach us. Both Quicksilver and Gretchen moved backwards, using his hooves and her talons to trying to crawl their way backwards. It was a mad scramble as the two got caught up into each other’s limbs while attempting to flee the beast. The cyclops lumbered towards them, it’s paws and cloven hooves impacting the ground and shaking the earth around them. They kept moving, attempting to stand up and crawl their way back, but they stumbled over themselves as the creature attempt to reach them.

The sound of chains forced the creature to stop and it grunted in annoyance. The two stopped and saw two large chains strapped to it’s wrists, and the chain leading to the two large trees behind them. The oak trees groaned in protest from the cyclops attempt to get to them, but the chains kept it there. The cyclops eyed them both, it’s right arm outstretched and hanging just above them.

“Ovi lanci me neće zauvek držati.” (These chains won't hold me forever.) it said, before bringing his paw down onto them. Quicksilver felt Gretchen wrap her talons around him and began flying upward into the air. The cyclops paw scratched into the snow, mere moments from where they were moments prior. The two took off into the air, hovering over the small prison encampment before heading toward the far edges of the cages. They landed, rather harshly, into the snow and hid behind the cages and next to what appeared to be a small stack of boxes and barrels that had a tarp covering them. Quicksilver could only stare back at the cyclops, its gaze having followed them and kept watching them. It licked it’s chops, and grinning from ear to ear. It’s body would press forward ever so slightly, pulling on the chains that bind it down and snickering to himself that he could break those chains and come at them. Quicksilver gave a shuddering breath and leaned into Gretchen, who continued to hold him and even press him into her chest feathers.

He could hear her heartbeat thudding next to his ear.

“Gretchen?” he muttered, casting his gaze up to her. She didn’t listen to him. She was fixated on the cyclops across the way, her irises the size of pinpricks. She kept him there, wrapping her talons around his chest and head and pulling her ever closer into her plumage. His cheeks went into her chest, and he felt her shuddering breath as she held him close. He felt his body lifted up slightly and felt her head rest upon his own. The two remained there, afraid of what they went through, and uncertain as to what they should do next.

*Whine*

A small whine, sounding more than a whimper, came at their right and the two looked over to see a small diamond dog staring at them through the five foot tall cage. It’s bright blue eyes glimmered in hope, curiosity, and sadness. It tilted its head, confusion and curiosity filled the young dog eyes. Both of them remained there until one after another more of the occupants within cage began to stir. Quicksilver’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the number within the cage and who was inside.

“Gretchen… the diamond dogs,” he began to say but felt her feathers behind his head when she nodded.

“I know… there are only women of children.” Gretchen muttered, allowing him to move freely and the two were able to view the inhabitants within the cages. They took a careful step forward in front of the cage, thankful that the ground around them had been trodden upon by others so that their tracks would not be detected easily. As they walked in front of the cages they were able to see dozens of the dogs inside the first few cages.

Among the diamond dogs he has fought he had never once laid eyes upon a female of their kind. The female diamond dogs were much thinner if not slimmer compared to the normal male variants he has seen. They all came in different shapes and sizes, possibly different breeds, and each one was distinctive with either having a scar, a different color vest or even a unique collar. The tall ones where hunched low due to the size of the cage while others small enough to stand up to the roof of the cage. Despite the many female dogs in the cage there were also a few dogs that were children.

What unnerved him, however, was how they all kept staring at the two of them. He saw a few stared blankly at them while only a select few had an air of curiosity about them. Others were more timid and they were shaking where they stood. They were afraid and those few clung to their mothers and siblings.

It would appear those kids had it hard the most, Quicksilver thought as he walked by, taking note of how Gretchen kept her pace ahead of him. He noticed their eyes were focused on her instead of him. They were afraid of her and their ears either dropped low or were flat on their heads. The mothers and individual dogs would huddle close or even outright growl at her to protect their young. In a nearby cage a stout diamond dog was trying to nurse it’s little pup, ignoring the other dogs concerns and caring for her young.

Quicksilver was so caught up with the sight of them all that he didn’t notice the outstretched claw coming from the next cage nearby. Their were gryphons in this cage, noble ones with their blue and reddish feathers. He looked into the cage where he saw the depressed gryphons within.

“Who are you?” one said softly.

“They are here to help us?” another one spoke, a claw reaching out to them.

“Please let us out,” another one spoke, almost begging.

They walked by, seeing the half dozen or so gryphons that were beaten and bruised, missing feathers here and there and longing for freedom. They kept walking, passing by ten of the large cages, and they were only halfway before they would reach the pathway towards the main encampment. Their were roughly twenty cages, each given a metal lock that kept them inside. Each cage was filled with diamond dogs and gryphons alike, with more diamond dogs then there were gryphons. One’s who were kidnapped from their homes, where others are considered traitors to Sharpclaw’s rule.

“Regicide. He is committing regicide. All gryphon protect us. Saint Gregor absolve us.” another gryphon spoke, and Quicksilver noticed the old bird was missing an eye, leaving nothing but an empty socket. The old gryphon was rocking back and forth in a clear state of shock.

What madness did Sharpclaw unleash upon them? Quicksilver thought, standing by Gretchen’s side

“You… equine. Come here.” a voice that sounded familiar came from a nearby cage. Quicksilver looked over and saw the gryphon Glenwing, who waved the two of them over. He quickly went over, keeping an eye out for any guard that could be nearby, but also on the cyclops nearby, who was watching their every move, almost ravenously. Once he was close, and with Gretchen coming alongside him, Glenwing perked his head up to them.

“Who are you? How did you sneak in here?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Quicksilver went to speak when Gretchen came forward.

“My name is Grethcen. This equine is with me. We have come to rescue the king. Where is Bronzeclaw?” she asked. Glenwing blinked at her and turned his head away from her.

“In here, but he won’t talk to you. He won’t talk to anyone at the moment,” he gestured to the only other gryphon in the back and Quicksilver looked upon the old king and how ravaged he appeared to him.

The king was in the corner of the cage, his back against the wall and his eyes glazed. His feathers were ruffled and unkempt and there was dried blood from his beak from where his son struck him. He kept staring in front of him, not paying attention to his surroundings nor looking at them. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move, and he didn’t even acknowledge their presence.

He just looked broken.

“Besides, I think your rescue is not going to work. The guards have the keys to these iron locks and they guard it with care.”

“Why can’t the diamond dogs dig underneath?” Quicksilver pointed out the obvious question.

“The floor underneath them has iron bars that keeps them from digging.” Glenwing explained, sitting down onto the floor and resting his head against the bars. “There is no hope for us.” he stated and the other gryphons nearby, along with a few diamond dogs that overheard them, all lowered their heads and were downtrodden by the news.

A soft noise came at his left and Quicksilver's ears picked up the faint sound in the distance. He turned and saw a light shimmering and the reflection of a gryphon and a yak was coming towards them.

“Gretchen,” Quicksilver said in a hushed tone. She whirled her head and saw the approaching shadows. They were exposed, the enemy was coming around the corner, and they had no were to go.

“Go now,” Gretchen said, grabbing him by the neck and the two heading back to the crates and boxes. They didn’t past two cages when the shadows drew closer and Gretchen stopped in her tracks, kicking up snow from her forward momentum.

“In here.” she said, dragging Quicksilver into a crack which was less than two feet in space. She spun inside and her back was against the wall while Quicksilver’s momentum carried him straight into her chest. She tightly wrapped her talons around his back and pressed him even further into her to the point the two were half standing and half bending. Her wings shimmied out somewhat and enveloped the two of them until they appeared nothing more than foliage between the cages.

The two remained there, their breath still and their voices mute.

To their right they looked out to the entryway to the camp. The shadows on the wall dispersed and coming towards the cages was Lupin and a large yak followed behind them. Between them Artemis was walking with her head down and her eyes downcast. She had her tail between her legs, while a bleak and melancholy aura seemed to surround her as she moved. The orange yak guard turned to his right, almost stumbling as he sat himself against a rock formation, the smell of alcohol and something foul permeated from him and he giggled to himself while drinking from a large tankard of sorts. Lupin moved toward the cages escorting Artemis and he had a dreary look about him.

They went past the kings cage, the king himself to stricken to even look up to his daughter, and she in turn didn’t even turn to meet him. She appeared to be in shock, her eyes almost glazed and showing fear. While the two drew ever closer, Quicksilver couldn’t help but notice the beady brown eye of the stout diamond dog staring at them. She kept an eye on them, showing no signs of weary or concern, while she was breastfeeding her pup. The tiny pup was no bigger than her paw, indicating it was a newborn. The other diamond dogs in the cage were either nursing or caring for their own pups, and they showed no care to them hiding. Even the children, or the dogs that would be considered children, paid them little heed or their mothers and siblings distracted them. They did, however, perk their heads when Lupin went passed them.

Quicksilver felt his heart hammer in his chest as he could see Lupin escort Artemis, passing by their hiding spot. It would have only taken one look to his left and he would have spotted them for sure. Lupin passed out of sight and Quicksilver didn’t turn his head, for fear of any slight movement would give away their position. The cage on their left was open, and Artemis walked passed their view.

He did take note of the dry blood on her inner thigh and lower leg.

You sick bastard… what did you do? Quicksilver thought while she went into the cage next to them, joining the other gryphons and even a couple of diamond dogs within. Out of his peripheral vision he saw that she sat in the middle of the group. It was only after she sat down did the tears sprung forth and she began softly cry. She collapsed onto the floor and curled herself inward, sobbing over what she had went through. The gryphon nobles attended her, trying to soothe her as best they could. Lupin took a step back to lock the gate behind them.

“For what it’s worth… I am sorry. This should not have happened.” Lupin spoke to her, his ears flat on his head. With a quick lock he parted away from the cage and began to head back.

Only to stop in his tracks and to look at the ground.

On no, Quicksilver nearly gasped if it weren't for Gretchen placing her talon over his mouth and muffling his breath.

Quicksilver kept staring in front of him, seeing Lupin look at the ground where the snow was. The small indentation where they had quickly turned remained, and if he was able to find it, then they would be caught. Lupin bent down, a paw placed onto the surface and was sniffing the air. Quicksilver felt his heart ram against his chest and on his right ear he could hear Gretchen’s heart pounding as well. He could only hope and pray that he didn’t notice them. Lupin took another sniff and his ears perked up, and his tail began to shake as a result. He raised his head, exposing his neck and his head pointed to the sky.

Goddess! He’s going to howl! Quicksilver mind panicked, wanting to bolt and take Gretchen with him. But she firmly held him in place and they had nowhere to go. Lupin turned his head and his ears perked up, towards the cage next to them.

“Lupin… my love.” a female voice, soft, rich and youthful, came from their right. Lupin smiled and he went to the cage where a female diamond dog came forward. She appeared tall, but was hunched low in the cage, she had a grey coat, almost silver when near the light of the fire. She went near the cage entrance, sitting on her knees and one of her paws outstretched to him. He tenderly grabbed her paw with his own and bringing it close for a small tender kiss.

“Jade, I missed you so much.” he said, sniffing her paw and allowing her to brush his face with her paw.

“I want nothing more than to be with you. This place is horrible.” she stated, leaning her head against the cage, “the pups are barely getting through and the children are weak.” she said, looking up to him.

“I know. I’m still working off with them. I’ve collected meat the other day. It should be enough to,”

“And they will demand more for your services mad dog,” the stout diamond dog spoke, in a rough manner. “The more you give the more they take from you.” she said. He looked past Jade to the stout diamond dog. Quicksilver held his breath and remained still.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience den mother Tala.” Lupin bowed his head in respect to her. Quicksilver couldn’t help but internally thank Tala. She was positioned just right that her stout figure was barley blocking Lupin’s view of them.

He only could fathom why she was not mentioning their position to them.

“It was because of you that we got in this mess in the first place,” she adjusted herself, her body moving slightly towards them, obscuring more of them from Lupin’s sight. The movement caused the tiny pup to cry out in discomfort and being interrupted for it’s want of milk. It quickly settled when she began to soothe it. “The pups are starving, we all hunger, and you side with those who murdered our mates and kin.” she said, clear venom in her words.

“I know you mean well. I’m truly sorry for the hardships you have to endure on my behalf,” Lupin said, sadness in his eyes. “If I hadn’t taken you away you would have all been killed. If I hadn’t offered my services, you would all be left out in the snow to freeze and die off. I would not want that when your pups were so young and about to be born. I would have gladly die in that path to keep you safe, but you were all threatened and I had to take action.” he explained. The other mothers in the cage looked to him while the children only tilted their heads in curiosity. Tala harrumphed and concerned herself to her pup.

“She is right, Lupin. We suffered for weeks here. Tala had her pup when you were gone and the children know only fear from the gryphons. We are all restless and that beast over their is constantly watching.” Jade explained, making Lupin turn to her and his face relaxed and empathetic. “We want to reunite with our pack. I want to return to our home.” Jade said, taking Lupin's paw and drawing it close to the cage. She pulled his paw through the bars and gently placed his paw over her belly.

“I don’t want our pups to grow up living in a cage,” she stated, almost tearfully. Quicksilver’s watched as Lupin expression changed immediately. Surprise was etched into his face as he looked down to her belly and then to her. He leaned his head and pressed his head against her own through the small gap between the bars.

“How long have you known?” he asked, clear elation his voice.

“Only for a few weeks. They will be born in a few months time.” she explained, yet her voice faltered for a moment. “Yet, they won’t live a happy life if they are in this place. Where predators are near and their safety won’t be assured.” she explained and Lupin pulled his paw out from her belly and placed it next to her cheek.

“You won’t be here forever. I will make certain of it. As long as I do as they wish, then you will be kept safe,” he said, but she shook her head, her ears falling flat onto her head.

“Living in this cage is shameful. Nothing but squalor and poor living. I don’t want that for our pups, or even this life. I just want to go home.” she said, her head bowed down and pressing into the bar. “Every time you leave… I feel I lose a bit of you more. That one day you will never return and they will kill us and abandon us to our fates in this winter. I do not want you to go and serve them any longer.” she said, her tail drooping and her body hunched as she sat on her back legs. Lupin remained where he was, uncertain how to proceed. Quicksilver felt sympathetic to him, despite the situation that they were in.

“Jade… please understand. You don’t know my past well. I don’t think…” he began to say when she lifted her head up to him.

“Promise me Lupin. Promise me you will return to me.” she asked, a hefty promise waiting for his answer. He opened his mouth to answer when a call came out near the entrance.

“Lupin… get back here you mongrel. We has got a job fer ya…” a gryphon called out, heavily drunkard by the sounds of it, was waiting at the mouth of the camp. Lupin looked to his beloved, his ears flattened on his head, and giving no response. He joined the gryphon side, who looked inebriated to the point he could fall over on his lonesome. The yak that remained said nothing, almost appearing asleep from how drunk he was. The two left, leaving with the burning question over him, while Jade slumped to the ground and her ears drooped back, a soft whimper escaping her.

The cyclops, on the other side of the room, meally chuckled at the display.

The moment they were gone Gretchen slumped to the ground, exhaling the breath she was holding, and dragging Quicksilver with her. He leaned into her and gave out a shaky breath. The close encounter would have been proven fatal if he hadn’t noticed them. Quicksilver felt her body quiver and her heart still thumping in her chest and he remained there by her side. A mighty gryphon reduced to a frightful bird. He felt pity for her and he wrapped his own hooves around her in an attempt to soothe her. She didn’t even notice when he held her, no rebuttal of his slight attempt in comfort. Instead, she merely lowered her head and buried her head into his neck, giving out a shaky breath.

Gretchen. He thought, holding her close and keeping her warm as best he could from the winter cold.

For a time the two remained there, being silent and only hearing their breathing. Minutes passed them by as the flecks of snow that landed on the ground. Quicksilver felt Gretchen’s heart and breath had slowed to a normal level. During this time together, she had tightened her arms around him further, keeping him in place and secure. The other sounds besides their breathing was that of the gryphons and the diamond dogs nearby. Who softly murmured and shared whispered conversations. The most being heard was from the gryphons. Quicksilver turned his head to the left, rubbing his muzzle into Gretchen’s chest feathers, and staring at the group of gryphons inside of the cage.

They were all staring at him with great intent.

Each gryphon was giving hallowed words to one another, both unsure of what he was doing but also looking at him with disgust. They glared at him, their eyes piercing him for a wrong he knew not. Their talons clung to the walls of their prison, some reaching out to him in attempts to seize them rather then reaching out for help. He could only fathom why they were acting this way. The only sole exception was the gryphon hen Artemis.

Who she was watching with hopeful yet frightful eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice soft, but scared. Quicksilver felt Gretchen lift her head up and the two locked eyes for a moment before Gretchen turned to the Princess.

“My name is Gretchen, I’m here to save-” she began to say when the cage rattled.

“Why is that equine with you? Don’t you know he is our enemy?” one of the gryphons spoke and it was the one with the missing eye, the other remaining eye, which had little color remaining, was showing clear anger toward Quicksilver. What disturbed him more was that it resembles more of a skull then an actual face.

“He is a friend, he is not,” Gretchen tried to explain but the old bird wouldn’t listen.

“Falsch! Equines are not our friends. They are not to be trusted. After what they did to King Ravenclaw when he offered a truce when we first made contact. I was there when it happened, youngling. You don’t know what was going on, and what took place inside the equines capital. By Saint Gregor he was killed by those wretched equines,” he claimed, the other gryphons nodding in approval.

That can’t be right. Ravenclaw was not the innocent one. I was… Quicksilver thought when he was interrupted when Gretchen held him closer, lifting up a bit so that he was sitting on his haunches.

“Your wrong. He is not like that at all. He is with me to help you all and to save the king,” she said defensively making the older gryphon balk at her.

“Such impertinence. This equine would never help us. He would never,”

“Versuch durch Gefieder.” Gretchen said each word, taking the gryphon off guard.

The other gryphons who glared and sneered at him were dropped when she uttered those words and were very silent. Quicksilver remained confused and look to Gretchen for answers, for even he did not know all of the gryphon language. Yet, she remained steadfast and kept her gaze fixated on them.

“You… you mean you…” the old gryphon began to say but couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Yes. He saved me from Sharpclaw and initiated Versuch durch Gefieder against him. He has proven his worth to me. For he is my beschützer, my Hausmeister, and my Begleiterin. Ich bin ihm treu wie er mir.” she said, and with each word spoken the gryphons grew less hostile towards him.

What did you say? Quicksilver thought, while he felt Gretchen slowly let go of him, allowing him to stand on all fours.

In all honesty he missed the warmth of her feathers.

Quicksilver moved forward slightly, keeping an eye out for any guard that might be nearby, but all he could see was the yak who hung his head low and a deep snore came from him. Quicksilver sighed internally, knowing they would have a fierce battle on their hands if the yak was not asleep. He did notice one critical thing that the yak did not have and one they sorely need.

“We got to go find the keys. That yak doesn't have it.” he mentioned, gesturing to the yak. The old birds in the cage grumbled to one another, unsure of what to say or to reply.

“They normally don’t carry the keys, it is usually belongs to one of the main guards that follow the yak Kahn or Sharpclaw's lieutenants,” one of gryphons mentioned. Quicksilver’s brow furrowed, knowing it might just become that more difficult if they had to go and steal from the yaks, or even right underneath Sharpclaw himself. He had no idea how he might get the key without alerting them to his presence.

"Are you going to free them?" the voice of Tala spoke, and Quicksilver turned to the den mother. He was a bit perturb by the sight of scar that replaced her left eye. But it was not her that had him concerned. But rather, the small throng of diamond dogs gathered on the side of the cage, and their paws outstretched to him. Tala was looking at him intently, her remaining eye was red and was even holding back tears. The pup in her arms curled inwardly and attempted to stay warm in her bosom.

"I am. I am here to help," he gave a simple reply.

Tala leaned in closer, a free arm outstretched to him through the bars. Seeing this, he took another step closer allowing her paw to grace his cheek. He didn't understand why he did it, yet he instinctively knew he wanted to reassure them. He wanted them to know he was a friend.

"Then help us," she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. While she held her pose, the other woman and the children inside placed their own paws and held them on her body and outstretched arm. A sudden warmth filled his cheeks and he shuddered from the contact. It was if a great spirit had rested his wings over him, urging him to help them. He nodded his head to them, promising in his heart that he will find a way to save them. He then felt a wing drape over him and he turned to see Gretchen was with him.

She was smiling.

And he smiled back.

Her presence was enough to warm his heart.

“Your going to die,” a slurred voice came from the entry point. Quicksilver, hearing the voice close by, quickly hunkered down as low as he could. He felt Gretchen press into him as she went down, a paw hanging over his back and pinning him to the cold ground. The diamond dogs retreated back into the cage and pretended that nothing occurred. From their angle they saw the same drunken gryphon and he was pulling a body behind him. Quicksilver gasped slightly when he saw it was the thestral, his body bloodied and beaten as he was dragged through the dirt and snow.

“Yer going to die, and no one will save you.” the drunken gryphon said. The drunkard swayed from one side to the other, almost to the point where he would trip over and fall to the ground. Yet he would catch himself before going back up again and going on his way. In that moment Quicksilver heard a small jingle come from the gryphons belt. Upon further inspection he saw that the a key was on his person.

What luck. Quicksilver thought, wanting to get up and to tackle the gryphon down to the ground and opbtain the key. But the pressure from Gretchen was preventing him from moving.

“Wake up ya beast!” The drunken gryphon shouted, dragging the Thestral along. In the far end of the room the cyclops stirred, it’s large eye open and towering over them. Quicksilver stirred, wanting to move and attempt to save the thestral. Yet, Gretchen continued to hold him down.

“Fletchling. You should not move. We must not be noticed or we'll be killed,” she stated softly, knowing how correct she was. His heart sank, looking out to the helpless thestral as he was placed in front of the drunk gryphon, while the drunkard called the cyclops forward.

However, the thestral still had strength and he stirred in his captors grip. The thestral attempted to move backing away from the approaching cyclops. He grunted turning his body away, digging his feet into the snow. The gryphon did not give him an inch, clasping a talon over his head and pulling his mane up forcibly. The thestral gasped and his mouth was ajar. Despite this, he continued to resist against his grip.

“Quit griping... (hic) it won’t last long,” the gryphon stated, the grounded vibrating from the cyclops moving ever closer. “It will all… be over… soon.”The thestral still continued to thrash about to the point of exhaustion. Quicksilver’s gut twisted when he saw the stubs on the thestral’s back were moving, attempting to use what remained of his wings. The stallions once proud wings were gone, and was powerless to escape. Almost like he was when he first arrived at the fort all those weeks ago. He could be in the same situation as he was if he was in his hooves. Helpless. Broken.

Broken.

In that moment of clarity, Quicksilver made his move.

“I’m sorry Gretchen. I will not stand for this,” he whispered, before forcing himself up and off the ground.

“Fletchling wait,” she said, but her cries fell to deaf ears as he bolted from his place of hiding. He took a few bounds, kicking snow as he moved, before leaping into the air. His wings flared open, wincing as his joints resisted at first, before they came up to full length. He kept his wings steady as he glided over the fire, which was at least a couple feet below him. He kept his focus ahead, the gryphon holding the thestral in place, ready to toss him towards the beast. He braced himself as his hooves struck home.

His front hooves planted directly onto the gryphon’s back sending them both forward. The drunkard dropped the thestral while Quicksilver tumbled along with him. They both crashed into the ground, sending snow everywhere. Quicksilver rolled onto his hooves, his wings painfully resisting as he attempted to get them to his sides. The gryphon gasped from the initial knock back and groaned from the pain. Despite his drunken state, he managed to turn his head and look at him directly in the eye.

“Eh… what… you are,” he didn’t get to finish as a large paw hovered over him.

Quicksilver backed away as the gryphon turned too late to the cyclops, the latter smiling at his prey. The beast encompassed his whole body with a single paw. The Gryphon squawked abruptly from the powerful grip and the sounds of bones popped and cracked in his body. Quicksilver looked upon the gryphons belt and saw the key dangling out between the digits of the cyclops paw. Quicksilver attempted to reach it but to no avail, as the cyclops brought the gryphon towards its maw. The gryphon’s eyes bulged, shrieking out in fear, before the cyclops brought its jaw down on it’s head with a sickening crunch. Quicksilver flinched and scurried back, the cyclops body rising up as he brought more of the gryphon inside his mouth, eating the gryphon bit by bloody bit. Another bite and the cyclops crams more of the gryphon into its maw, a back leg and a talon sticking out of its mouth. Another bite and the limbs went inside, and the gryphon was no more. The cyclops grinned with satisfaction, chewing on the body as blood seeped from his teeth and covering the snow red with blood. Quicksilver’s heart quickened and he took a step back, only to bump into the thestral.

He whirled his head, seeing the thestral was still. He saw that his face was covered in blood, sealing his eyes shut. He placed a hoof over the thestals mouth and felt the soft breath from the thestral. He reached out to pick his body up and to take him away but the noise of hooves was fast approaching from the entrance. He whirled his head, seeing the flames of torches dancing about the walls. Panic was coursing through his veins and his eyes were on Gretchen who was urging him to come to her side. Yet, the guards were approaching, there was no time to run to her. When he looked towards the entrance he saw a brush that was close by and was next to a small rocky formation that jutted outward. Seeing no other option he dove for the brush. He landed near it and quickly crawled inside, turning around just in time so that he may lie still.

Two large yaks came bustling in, their beady eyes looking over to the cyclops and watching it eat the remains of the gryphon. One of the yaks had a large torch which was strapped to a small hook that was on one of his horns, sending light flickering everywhere into the shades of darkness. They were a few yards away, their cloven hooves stomping on the ground and yelling at the beast and Quicksilver made himself as small as possible. He placed a hoof over his mouth, holding his breath so that the air would not be visible in the cold night air. His body shook horribly from both the cold and with his nerves being on end. From his position he watched the yaks speaking in their foreign tongue, no trace of Equestrian could be heard. Yet, he was able to see their beady eyes, and how frightful they looked. Not at the beast who ate their gryphon ally, but at the thestral who laid motionless on the ground.

He just hoped they didn’t notice his prints in the snow from where he had moved moments before.

He watched as they look to one another and backed at the wingless equine. They were spitting out their words against the motionless equine, cursing in their foreign tounge. One of the yaks even approached it and poked one of his hooves against the thestral. The thestral stirred and bared its fangs slightly, a soft hiss wheezing out of him.

“Chotgor!” the yak backed away, trampling into the snow where Quicksilver's prints were, which gave him much relief seeing. Both yaks began rubbing the tips of their horns and speaking in hushed tones. Quicksilver wondered if it was an attempt to ward off evil. While they continued this a loud crack came from the cyclops that caused the two yaks to look at it. The cyclops cheeks bunched to one side and for a few moments the cyclops was toying with its food before spitting something out into the snow.

A bloodied half eaten head is what remained of the gryphon. One of its eyes wide open and petrified in death. The yaks eyeed one another, whispering in their language before turning to the Thestral. They then nudged the pony towards the cyclops, wiped their cloven hooves into the ground, rubbing their horns once more for good measure, and leaving him there. Quicksilver waited with bated breath, hearing their steps becoming more and more distant.

After waiting for several minutes, and when no other enemy was visible, Quicksilver breathed softly in relief.

“I thought I was going to die there.” He muttered, stepping up and out of the brush. He saw the cyclops still munching on the pulverized meat of the gryphon, aimlessly looking around and not paying any attention to him. Quicksilver noticed the thestral was trying to move, its hooves wavering as he attempted to stand. He trotted over, attempting to help him however he can, while still being weary of the cyclops nearby. When he drew close the thestral ears perked up and he tried to squirm away, pushing his legs into the snow in an attempt to flee. Quicksilver was already on him, placing a hoof over the thestrals mouth before he could scream out.

“Je suis un ami. (I'm a friend)“ Quicksilver stated softly, trying to calm the equine down. The Equine seemed to get more agitated, from when he turned his head and got his mouth free, he spoke to him.

“Aye can’t understand the damn language ya cunt.”

Quicksilver blinked and stood there for a moment.

He believed he had seen everything. From the revelation of Prince Sharpclaw, the King’s survival, the death of General Quill, and his ordeal back at the camp. Out of all of those things he had never expected for a thestral to speak the same language as he did.

“Calm down my friend. I’m not going to hurt you. Easy.” Quicksilver said in Equish, trying to calm the thestral down. The thestral took a few deep breaths before he spoke again.

“Aye feel like shite. A broken barrel without it’s brew.” the thestral said. Quicksilver tried to discern the thestrals language. It was Equish, but it was rougher, harder, almost unrecognizable.

“My name is Quicksilver. Can you tell me your name?” Quicksilver asked. The thestral went to open his mouth but paused when he tried to open his eyes. He squinted and tried to open them, but they were covered in dried blood.

“Aye can’t see. My wings are gone and they took my sight. Aye can’t see.” he said, raising his hoof blindly until Quicksilver drew closer and allowed his hoof to rest on his shoulder. He felt pity for him, but he knew that his sight was not gone.

“I have an idea for that. Give me a moment and be quiet.” Quicksilver replied softly, grabbing a big scoop of snow and rubbing it into the stallions eyes.

“That stings ya basturt.”The thestral hissed at first before he allowed Quicksilver to continue, spreading snow onto the dried blood. Quicksilver repeated this several times, wiping away the blood that had gathered over his eyes and face. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed that many of the gryphons had gathered together near the edge of the cages, their talons wrapping upon the bars and watching him. Even Gretchen watched, but not once getting up to come and help him. He ignored them for now as he continued with his task.

Less than a minute later, and the blood being removed off his eyes, did the thestral began to open them up. His right eye opened first, blinking a few times, while the other one partially opened. The bright slitted eye of the thestral was bright yellow and he looked upon Quicksilver for the first time.

His face lit up like wildfire and a toothy smile shimmered from the fire nearby.

“Aye thought aye was blind.” the thestral said in a hushed but jovial manner, tears almost streaming out of his eyes. Quicksilver couldn’t help but smile and pat the thestral on the shoulder.

“Can you walk my friend?” Quicksilver asked, but the thestral shook his head.

“Aye don’t know,” he said, still blinking and adjusting his sight.

“I’ll help you up,” Quicksilver said, placing a hoof around the Thestral and lifting him up and off the ground.

“It was Quicksilver, aye?” the thestral asked, and he nodded in kind.

“Yes that’s my name. And yours?”

“Tis Sabre. Cross Sabre.” He beamed with pride when saying his name.

“Well met Cross,” Quicksilver replied, setting Cross onto his haunches and to get him oriented. “Alright easy Cross. Take it steady.”

“Ye don’t haf’tae dawdle on me lad, aye can take care of me- what the buckin devil is that?” Cross said harshly as he stared at the Cyclops before them. Quicksilver quickly hushed him before keeping an aye on cyclops, whowas hovering close to them. The chains shook and strained, preventing it from getting any closer.

“A chained beast. He won’t bother us,” Quicksilver said, attempting to ease the thestral. Though it was much harder to do so from how intimdiating the monster was.

“Good… last we need is it tae crush us. Slice it’s jambags for good measure, that will teach it a lesson,” he said, which made Quicksilver question what jambags are but decided not to dwell on it. He went to move Cross up when the Cyclops began to shift its mouth again. He saw it’s cheeks swell like before and he spat at the ground in front of him. Instead of bones or meat however, he saw a belt that was covered in spit and chewed leather.

Along with a single key.

Quicksilver heart almost leapt into his throat at the sight of it. They would finally release the prisoners and get out of here. Quicksilver eyed the cyclops, wondering if it had found it indigestible or if it was holding it for him. The cyclops merely gave a toothy grin, revealing raw bits of flesh and bone, before swallowing his meal whole. Quicksilver was disgusted by the sight but that was nothing compared to his thoughts on the key and to everyone's freedom.

“We can finally get out of here.” he said, reaching a hoof out to grab the key.

He stopped when he felt a paw placed onto his shoulder.

“Hello again equine.”

Author's Note

Another chapter is here. More dangerous turns abound.

More chapters are on the way. That I promise you.

A King's Request

Quicksilver's heart skipped a beat. His mind flashed before him as he held his hoof out towards the key. He was caught and he was going to be killed. Gretchen will be captured and tortured by Sharpclaw.

Gretchen. Please leave, get out of here while you can! Quicksilver’s mind screamed out. He leaned forward attempting to reach the key. Yet he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. His enemy was behind him, yet, he was not aggressive. He didn’t even get thrown down or dragged away. There was no sound of brandishing swords or barking sergeants.

And what he felt on his shoulder didn’t resemble a claw at all. Claws don’t have fur.

“It’s not been near two days since we last saw each other. I never thought we have such a short interim apart.” the voice behind him spoke, being instantly familiar to him. Quicksilver turned his head, and his breath hitched when he saw Lupin standing over him.

“Lupin.” Quicksilver said, his worry abated for the moment. Lupin kept his gaze on him a half smile.

“Nice to meet you again as well. Despite your current circumstances.” he said, before leading forward and his smile faded, “You do remember what I said the next time we meet?” he asked, which made Quicksilver more worried. Knowing full well that the next time they would meet that he would have to fight.

“You know this dog?” Cross asked, attempting to get up from the snow. Lupin didn’t hesitate and placed a foot onto the back of Cross, forcing the thestal to the ground. He hissed and squirmed when Lupin pressed further onto him.

“Don’t speak too loudly. They will hear you.” Lupin stated, his gaze never leaving him. “There is little time for interruptions.”

Quicksilver went to reply when behind Lupin he saw Gretchen rushing towards them. She dug her talons into the snow and kicked up dirt into the air. Her wings expanded and she leapt at Lupin with her talons outstretched. For a brief moment Quicksilver could see the anger in her eyes. Her passionate golden eyes that he once knew was now that of a vengeful heroine. The fires nearby only added to her ferocity for her eyes burned and gleamed with a powerful inclination. A desire that would rip and tear into anything that gets in her way.

Those eyes are what made Quicksilver longed to gaze upon.

While he remained fixated upon her approaching form, Lupin glanced to the side and his ears folded back.

He was expecting her to draw herself out.

He whirled around with his right paw stretched outward towards her. He grasped at her neck, stopping in her place before she could tear into them. Anger still remained in her eyes, grasping the ends of her arms and trying to break free but Lupin held firm, raising her ever higher and keeping her at bay. Quicksilver's heart quickened, seeing her being kept up and struggling in his grip. He tried to move as well but was kept in place. He knew that every second they remained that the guards would return and it would be over for them.

“Lupin… please I’m not here to fight you,” Quicksilver begged, attempting to get up and away from him. Lupin held him firm, keeping the three of them in place. His mind raced to how he was going to get out of here, there were little to no options but to struggle and fight back. His eyes laid on Gretchen, still struggling in Lupin’s grip and was hellbent on tearing him to shreds. His grip never lessened and still she kept on attempting to fight. He once again tried to move but still the dog would not let him go. His eyes drifted toward the cages, wondering how the last of their lives would be stuck in them.

His eyes laid upon the diamond dogs. They all were watching intently and their paws upon the bars of the cage. Among them, he saw Jade. She was scared, not knowing what would happen. An idea instantly clicked in his mind and he turned to Lupin.

It was the only shot he had.

“Lupin. Do you love Jade?”

Quicksilver felt Lupin's paw tighten on his shoulder. He had his attention.

“Do you truly love her Lupin? Will you sacrifice everything for her? Or will you throw it away to serve your masters?” He continued, hoping to get him to stop hurting Gretchen. He only felt the grip tighten and Gretchen began to gag slightly. Hearing her struggling he thrashed again, this time breaking free from him. He whirled around to face him but was met by his paw, grasping at his neck. Lupin’s eyes were focused on him, clear anger seeping out of him. A low growl emanated from the back of his throat. Quicksilver’s eyes flashed to Gretchen and she continued to fight, albeit weakly, against his grip and her eyes were rolling up near the back of her head. His heart quickening he tried to stand up with his rear legs in an attempt to stand up. Lupin continued to hold his ground and all Quicksilver was able to achieve was sitting on his rear facing him.

“You can kill me if you wish… this whole ordeal would be over and you can get back to being the servant that you are. But know this,” he said, feeling the talons grip upon his windpipe and Lupin’s jowls twitching up to reveal his teeth, “ Can you answer this question Lupin? Can you live with yourself knowing that the love of your life will be living in this hell and war will forever plague you and you can never return to her? Or will you take that risk and set her free from that misery driven world?” He finished, noticing a certain glint in Lupin’s eyes.

The diamond dog kept watching him, never once letting Quicksilver go. Quicksilver’s breath became all the more extraneous and his vision was fading. Gretchen was no better as her grip lessened and her wings drooped. Her eyes were still rolled up and her breath became more shallow.

It was then that Lupin let her go.

She fell to the ground coughing and grasping her neck. Lupin turned to her, his eyes looking over her curiously. She looked up, still anger in her eyes while he tilted his head in some twisted amusement.

“I see now,” his eyes lingered on her for a moment before going to Quicksilver, his grip easing on Quicksilver’s throat, “I know what you are aiming for and that is not going to sway me.” he said and Gretchen’s eyes flared again. She raised up to grab him but he was quick to react and ceased at her neck again, just under her jawline. Quicksilver's eyes refocused on her and he still continued to fight him. She stayed there and her talons dug into his arm but he didn’t seem to be bothered. Nearby the soft growl of the cyclops was ever watchful over them.

“However,” he stated, moving her over closer to Quicksilver. He had them both in front of him and he eyed them both in turn. Quicksilver eyes met with Gretchen and she in turn with his. The two kept their gaze, a longing in both of their eyes to be set free.

Then, when all seemed lost, Lupin let them go, the two dropping and getting fresh air into them.

Quicksilver blinked and shook his head, clearing his vision and no longer feeling the pain on his neck. The dog shuffled over to them and Quicksilver could see Lupin bending down in front of him. He looked up at him and Lupin gave a wild grin.

“I see that look in your eyes. You both would do anything for each other to ensure the other's safety. Just like back in the cave when I first saw you days prior,” He then leaned forward for only them to hear, “You two love each other more than you realize.”

A flush of warmth went to Quicksilver’s cheeks while Gretchen’s own plumage ruffled. She took a swipe at him yet Lupin leapt back a few feet and away from her grasp. Lupin chuckled in amusement whilst Gretchen looked down in embarrassment. Yet, Quicksilver felt his heart beat a little faster from Lupin’s words and he recalled the dream he had the night before and it resurfaced in the forefront of his mind. He took a sideways glance to her and his heart beat in turn.

He did love her. He truly did love Gretchen. And he would not stop until she was safe from Sharpclaw.

Though… was she truly feeling the same way towards him?

Lupin moved toward the fallen key on the ground and plucked it off the snow. The two eyed him as he headed toward the cages. A groan from Cross alerted them and Quicksilver was able to help the thestral back onto his feet while Gretchen followed Lupin, albeit being cautious.

“What the devil was that all aboot? Why did the dog let ye go?” Cross said, getting his bearing and trying to stand on his own.

“It’s hard to explain. All I know, at this moment, that he is a friend.”

“Well that’s a weird way to make friends lad,” Cross replied, bringing a chuckle out of Quicksilver. He escorted Cross to the fire, and left behind the giant who had been watching their ordeal. After Cross was placed near the fire to warm up, Quicksilver moved towards Gretchen and Lupin. Along the way he took a quick glance to the yak that remained nearby with a tankard of whatever alcohol he was drinking. The yak appeared to not even bother with them and was off watching the walls. Ahead of him Lupin used the key and opened up the cage where the diamond dogs were. The diamond dogs were hesitant as the gate remained open. They eyed Gretcehn and had their ears down when she was giving that judging look to Lupin.

“It’s alright. You will be safe.” Lupin said, reassuring them and they were able to exit out of the cage. Once out some stretched out from the cramped space while others rolled into the snow and sprawled their arms and legs, happy to be out of that space. Jade came out of the cage, standing to her full height. She was just as tall as Lupin and she embraced her love with all her heart. He returned the loving gesture, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. While he held his love he passed the key over to Gretchen who didn’t need to be instructed in what to do next. Gretchen went off to open the other cages, with the other gryphons and diamond dogs eager to escape. Quicksilver sidled up to them, Lupin still holding to his beloved mate.

“There are many things that I regret in this life,” Lupin stated, giving a kiss on Jade’s forehead. His body slumped downward until he was on his knees, his paws cradling her sides of her waist. He stared at her pregnant belly, a smile creasing on the edge of his mouth. He leaned his head forward and pressed it against her belly.

“But my love for you and for our pups I will always cherish.” he said, closing his eyes and leaned a little closer into her. She welcomed him and placed her paws on either side of his head. Quicksilver couldn’t help but smile. The sound of cages opening and the hushed voices of the other gryphons were nearby. They appeared on edge and were able to get out of the condition they were in. Already they were discussing amongst themselves at the turn of the tide and fortune.

Quicksilver watched Gretchen even escort Artemis out of the cage, guarded by a pair of other noble gryphons who wish to aid her plight. Gretchen was speaking to her softly, but Quicksilver couldn’t pick up what she said from the hushed voices of the other gryphons. Artemis was stoned faced yet her eyes were looking down and not responding to Gretchen’s inquiries. When Gretchen asked a second time she gave a tearful nod to her and Gretchen pulled the weary hen into an embrace and soothing her. Quicksilver felt sympathy for her, knowing what inequine torture that Sharpcalw did to her.

If they ever get out of here safely, Sharpclaw will get his due. Quicksilver only hoped that he and Gretchen would be able to get out of this mess before they were found by Sharpclaw.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt a touch on the shoulder by Lupin. He turned to him who was standing alongside his beloved mate. Jade, in turn, had her head resting into his shoulder. Quicksilver was taken aback somewhat by how tall they both were when they were both standing up straight. He kept his eye on Lupin who continued to smile at him.

“I guess you made the right decision?” Quicksilver asked. Lupin turned to his love and gave her a firm squeeze around her shoulder.

“I would not trade her for the world. Nor will my pups that are yet to be born. I guess I needed a little conviction from you if you still had the same burning spirit.” He leaned his head a little, smiling to Quicksilver, “I could have ratted you out earlier when you hid in the brush.” Quicksilver felt an uneasy chill crawl up his spine.

“You mean to say that you,” he began to say, yet Lupin lifted a paw to him.

“Indeed. I knew that you were both here the moment your smell came to me. It had not been long since we last parted that I knew of both of your scents well enough. It was easy to detect you but I couldn’t have brought myself to do it.” He explained. Quicksilver nodded, seeing that the diamond dogs' loyalty was more towards their pack than those who they serve under.

Family is a strong bond indeed.

Quicksilver’s ears fell short, and his eyes looming over Gretchen. She remained over Artemis and was soothing her. Yet, her brother was all that she had left. If Ebon was killed, if he died in the fight against Sharpclaw’s minions or was forced to head back home, then Gretchen would have no one left to turn to. A single thought raced into his head and wondered if it was possible.

Would she accept coming with him?

Would she risk everything to come with him into the lands of Equestria?

Could she even accept such an offer.

“Quicksilver?” Lupin spoke, snapping him from his stupor, “Is something amiss?” He asked. Quicksilver waved him off with a hoof.

“Apologies, I’m just tired. Haven’t slept all that well.” He said, knowing he had been exhausted from the last couple of days of travel and labor. He looked around and saw the other cages being opened and more gryphons and diamond dogs filling the area. Some of the older birds grumbled while a few younger ones were listening to orders. A few were sent off toward the crates near the corner of the area. The diamond dogs were gathering together, mostly in the protection of their pups. Tala was among them, still holding her precious pup close to her. She also spoke softly among her kin, reassuring them and guiding them of what was to come but knowing they should not be too eager till they had escaped this place.

A grumble from the entry caused the growing crowd to go quiet.

The yak that remained near the entrance was there. Quicksilver noticed his head was low and was bobbing his head ever so slightly. The mug in front of him looked empty but some froth remained on the side. A chuckle escaped from Lupin and he leaned towards Quicksilver, bumping his shoulder to garner his attention.

“Don’t worry about my drinking buddy. He won’t be able to see straight from the amount of yak nog that he has consumed.” he chuckled, and the yak in question chuckled to himself, so inebriated he was that Quicksilver breath a sigh of relief that the yak would pose no threat.

Yet, the smell of yak nog permeated from him made his nose revolt from the strong liquor.

While the group continued to gather and some eager to leave, there was one occupant who remained in his cage. Quicksilver saw Glenwing standing at the open cage and was waiting for his king Bronzeclaw to leave. Quicksilver moved towards him, wondering why he had not stirred despite everyone preparing to leave. He stood by Glenwing’s side, seeing the king still there, remaining stationary and unresponsive. He eyed Glenwing who remained steadfast and waited for his king to move, yet Quicksilver wondered if the king would listen.

“May I speak with him?” Quicksilver asked, gesturing to the king. Glenwing fierce eyes landed on him and Quicksilver was taken aback slightly. He looked old but he was intimidating nonetheless. He puffed out his wings somewhat, appearing all the more intimidating so as to deter him from getting closer.

“Why would an equine like you demand an audience with my king?” he said, his blue eyes matched with his blue and red feathers made him all the more regal. Quicksilver attempted to retort when Gretchen came over to them.

“The fletchling has not demanded it, Glenwing. He has earned it.” She said, saddling up to Quicksilver and placing a reassuring claw onto his back. Quicksilver felt a small chill when her talons stroked upward towards his shoulders. He didn’t question why she was doing this, but he was grateful for her presence. Glenwing's aged but noble eyes wandered to the two of them. Gretchen, seeing this, brought him closer to a comforting hug and a determined look on her graces.

“He has done more to help than you realize. It was his decision to come here and it was his resolve to come to help you all, regardless of what sides we are on. Please grant him the audience with the king.”

Silence remained between them, neither wanting to give an inch in where they stood. Until a muffled voice from within the cage stirred them.

“Send the equine in… he can ramble all he wants, for I have made my decision.” King Bronzeclaw stated, not once looking at them. Glenwing paused for a moment, worried over the reply that his king had gave. Then he nodded his head slightly, backing away, and allowing Quicksilver to enter inside.

As he approached the king many thoughts ran into his mind. For the longest time, he always believed that Bronzeclaw was the most fearsome of gryphons, and was just like his father all those years ago. He would always imagine that with his will Bronzeclaw would command his armies to wherever he willed it and they would sow fear and terror. Earning the renown of his loyalists and the envy of his rivals. To see the mad king that had prolonged this war for so long that it nearly effected his entire life.

He should feel anger in his heart. The need to rail against the king for all that had wronged. He lost his parents, he was left abandoned. His sister had to raise him and encouraged him to join with her to be apart of the royal guard when they were old enough. He fought and killed for so long that it had shaped him to be the way he is now.

Yet, as he sat opposite of the king, he was looking upon a gryphon who looked battered, betrayed, and broken beyond recognition. One whose spirit was lost in a miasma of misery and woe. Whatever he had endured to get to this point could not hold a candle to what the king had to go through. Though they were both on opposite sides of the war, the two know that they shared a common foe.

He had to know as much as he could if he was to understand who Sharpclaw was.

“You're the king Bronzeclaw, are you not?” Quicksilver asked. The king didn’t reply, not at first, but merely nodded his head. Quicksilver took a cold breath and cleared his mind of what he wanted to speak next.

“Bronzeclaw, tell me who is Sharpclaw. How did he come to po-” A chuff escaped from Bronzeclaw and interrupted him.

“Is that always like you equines? Going straight to the point and demanding questions that escape your lips? Trying to get straight to a problem instead of realizing what led up to it. If you have any regard for that you would have considered changing your question. Otherwise, you're wasting your time talking to husk like me.” he replied, his eyes narrow and bitter. Quicksilver’s ears folded back and he took a breath to clear his thoughts. The king was right. He had every right to deflect any question in regards to what was at hoof. Yet, it didn’t take him long to find what his next question was.

“Then can you tell me your story, King Bronzeclaw?” he asked, and the king's eye lingered over to him. His eyes looked hurt but curiosity was also there as well. He lazily blinked, his eyes dull but still shimmered in the light nearby. The king sighed and straightened himself, wiping away the blood on his beak before looking more regal.

“I guess that is a start, but I believe my story is unimportant to the grander scheme of things,” he said, his baritone voice returning.

“All stories are important, King Bronzeclaw. It is those who are willing to share them that can truly see who they are.”

“And you are willing to share my story? In the event that I fall?” he asked, his long gaze resting on him.

Quicksilver nodded.

“I will.”

“I guess I could start with how it all began for me. But I guess it wouldn’t matter much of my early upbringing since you and your new friends will be in a hurry.” he gestured to the side and Quicksilver's eyes wandered over to see the rest of the group of gryphons and diamond dogs were getting antsy. Some had gathered whatever they could from the boxes and some were hovering in the air, flapping as quietly as they could. Quicksilver looked back to the king and gestured for the king to continue.

There was very little time that he could take but he hoped he could get some answers.

“Long ago, before this war began, I was a much different gryphon,” King Bronzeclaw stated, his eyes wandered to the side as if lingering on a distant memory, “When I was reaching my later ages of a juvenile and would be welcomed into the world as a worthy adult in my father's court I thought myself to have a easy life ahead of me. I would be working by my father's side, I would learn trade and commerce amongst my people and life would be good. However, what I didn’t expect from my father was that I was to be forced into an arranged marriage with a rival clan.” Bronze Claw smile faded and he closed his eyes in discomfort.

“Ravenclaw, my father, was always boasting to me that we must expand the bloodline that he so craved. I considered him a perfectionist in all regards, wanting to keep our lines pure and all that, but the way he went with it was on the borderline of obsession. He wished nothing more than to see me be the pinnacle of his work and to usher in a grand age with his legacy. I didn’t understand his work but I knew that I grew to hate it.”

“The few years that passed before our arrangement went by in a blink of an eye. Every month delegates from both clans would be in discussion and speak about the political opportunities with this marriage. Everytime that I had attempted to hear what they had to say I was pushed away saying that I was too young or not ready to be a part of whatever political scheme they were conducting. As the time grew closer and closer to the fateful day I grew angrier and more suspicious that this marriage was nothing other than bringing our rival houses together.”

“Several months before the time of the marriage I got the courage to finally meet in one of these meetings, or rather I had snuck in to listen to what they had to say. It sickened me when they began their discussions and I learned much from their blathering. This marriage was to only keep the strong houses together and they were planning to take the other smaller houses to extinction while they would remain in power.

“I was beside myself… seeing these gryphons only clawing their way into power and more control while apostatizing against our very people. Every venomous word they uttered against the common folk and the other tribes only confirmed to me how wrong the nomad tribe have become.”

He paused, his eyes lowering and a deeply pained look remained on his countenance.

“After they were finished and they had departed I was so full of anger towards my kin that I left the manse and without their knowing I went to the whorehouse and laid with one of the hens there.” He stood silent for a moment, his head lowered and his eyes sunken. Quicksilver took in every word that he uttered. No doubt in his mind the king was pained by speaking of this but Bronzeclaw was speaking from the heart and he wanted someone who would listen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both Gretchen and Artemis standing nearby. The latter especially took more interest in his story.

Yet, Quicksilver believed that she had no anger in her.

“The time I returned they didn’t know what I had done. I had to vent out my frustrations and anger and they were none the wiser. I would be grateful they hadn’t since all they cared for was my upbringing and seeing how my life will go for them whilst they trampled the hope that the people have been begging for.” A sudden shock from the cage as Bronzeclaw slammed his closed talons into the side of the metal bars.

“They didn’t care for what was to happen, so long as they remain in power and remain at the top of the social order of people!” he seethed and blew fresh air out of his beak. Quicksilver remained where he was, waiting patiently for the old bird to continue. Occasionally hearing the shuffle of wings and the small quick banter of the gryphons gearing themselves to leave. The voice of Glenwing came and Quicksilver turned his head slightly to see most of them moving towards the cliff, the same spot that he and Gretchen descended not too long ago. The king lowered his stance and lifted his claw onto his head and Quicksilver gave his full attention.

“Time had passed after that eventful night. I was wed to my bride and our lives were peaceful one. I grew to love that hen, despite our circumstances, and we were blessed to have Artemis a few years later. Yet despite our peace, my one mistake is what nearly cost me everything. The same hen that I met during that night had come to my estate with a hatchling no older than two. She presented the child as my flesh and blood and recalled everything from the night at that whorehouse.” Bronzeclaw paused and chuckled for a brief moment, “My father was furious when he found out and he lashed at me for going behind his back and soiling myself on a nameless nobody. I felt almost no remorse for the act, I had no love for my father as he had no love for me. I guess it’s ironic that I ended up in this situation now.” he paused and sighed before turning his attention to Quicksilver. “In order to keep the scandal from reaching the ears of the other nobles I had to take the two in under my house and take him in as my ward. It was not my choice to choose, it was thrusted upon me because of what I had done.” He lowered his head in shame and closed his eyes.

“I did feel ashamed when my wife heard of the news and she wept that I had betrayed her for another hen then with her. I wish nothing more than to repair the damage and rekindle the bond between us, even if it took the rest of my life.

“However, it was only after that event my father and his delegation went to the recently discovered Equestrians that he made a bold but foolish mistake when he arrived at their capital,” he hung his head low and shook, his feathers bristling from his movement.

“He slew the King and prince of the Equestria at the cost of his own selfish life,” he said, leaning back his head against the cage.

“That fool. My only assumption of why he did what he did was that he may have been jealous of Equestria and the lands surrounding them. He was envious of such things and when he puts his pride on the line, he would sacrifice everything to achieve it, even at the cost of his life and the suffering of many others.” he explained.

King Solaris and Prince Osiris. Quicksilver had only seen them once on that fateful day. And the memory resurfaced to his mind as close to a vivid dream.

“After his death was announced I was thrust upon the seat of power and the nobles demanded action. The early reports and from the survivors of the delegation claim that the king was murdered before their very eyes. The lying heathens wanted nothing more than to stir the people’s hearts to anger and they already goaded my people on the warpath. Since I was still eighteen years of age but also not bred by my father as a competent leader I had no choice but to accept this act and respond in total war against Equestria and her allies. Knowing how the war played out I can certainly imagine you know how everything goes.” he paused, allowing the words to sink in.

Quicksilver said nothing. He didn’t want to say to the king what was on his mind, if he did, he would not stop himself from ranting against him for not stopping this war. Yet, if he was on the other side, if he was in the wings of the king, there were things even he could not have been able to do or even control. Bronzeclaw brushed his feathered head, the feathers ruffling back into place as his talons passed through them.

“Sharpclaw, he was a disposition child. Not knowing why he was in the castle, why he was a part of living in royalty instead of being on the streets. He wandered aimlessly from dorm to dorm, his curiosity always getting the better of him. He was so interested in everything under my tutelage despite the fact he would be a wanderer among the halls of the castle and sneak out and away from my teachings. Over time, in the early months and years into the war I grew fond of the boy. He had certainly become stronger, smarter, and although he never knew the truth about his heritage I almost accepted him as my own flesh in blood.

“However, my life as king would become all the more arduous as time went on. The war began to become a stalemate and I had to manage my kingdom with the limited power that I have. The true power lay in the corrupt noble from the Nomad clan that held sway over the council and they had their talons dug deep in the backs of the Arch Gryphons and the ecclesiarch. There was nothing I could have done other than watch as more of my gryphons were killed in the war that they created.” the king sulked, pushing himself back into his cage.

“It was my fault that I was blinded by such follies. I couldn’t be strong enough for what was to come. As the war raged on I had to put my duties as king at the forefront and I spent less and less time with him. I guess it was one of the follies that I should have seen coming. I failed to account for one such clever fiend in this great schism between myself and my bastard son. The one fiend I had failed to address, Black Talon.’

The image of the corpulent gryphon surged to the front of Quicksilver’s mind and he snorted from the discontent of seeing that fat bastard.

“You see… he was one of the more prominent gryphons under the nomads, but his cunning and ways of the Nomads was all the more important. You see I sought to remove the most vile and heinous of the nomad leaders and ensure that there might be some hope that we can remove the ones who had advocated for this war. At the time Black Talon was a mere nomad of his own, yet he had his way of words and craftyness. He was disgruntled that was certain of the treatment he received by the other nomads, and he eagerly accepted my proposal. Yet, I believe this was a necessary evil to eradicate evil, I would be so blinded to ridding it that I would eventually succumb to it’s machinations.

“To begin with, I had him go about planting rumors and minor insurrections within the nomad tribe. With this we slowly but surely managed to weed out the most corrupted of the nomads and ensured they were eliminated or sent to their own deaths fighting in the war. It was full proof to the point I felt at ease from the success. The nomads' pride would make them keep their reputation up and would be sent into the harshest areas of fighting. I don’t regret sending those bastards out and any wayward acolyte that decided to follow them to their deaths.

“Yet, while my focus was removing them Black Talon had grown in influence and grew closer to my bastard son. It was subtle at first, enough to not warrant my attention to his scheming. Yet, he had influenced him to the point that he was intentionally leading him down the path that I had feared. In the most regards I was trying to keep his true identity a secret but had I known of Black Talons previous intentions or if I was blinded by such avarice against the nomad leaders, I could have prevented all of this from happening. And yet,” The king paused, letting his head rest against the bar of the cage and his head looking up in disgrace.

“Maybe if I had been more of a better father to him. If I could be more supportive instead of pushing him away. If I could have told him who he was and learn to become better. Better than me.”

For a moment he went silent, the king staring off in the distance. Quicksilver remained where he was, contemplating all that he had heard. For most of this time Quicksilver felt more empathy for the king. For he was fighting against corruption, against those who had started all of this. This bloody war was all for the sake of pride and for the longest time Quicksilver had believed that King Bronzeclaw was responsible for it, only he was only forced to comply and risk a more tyrannical leader to take his place.

“My son… my bastard son… soon learned the whole truth from Black Talon, just as things were turning towards peace. He, Black Talon, and his agents worked behind my back and deliberately sent our forces into disarray. The last few years your forces have gained much but at great cost. With each great slaughter and mass death upon your kind as much as mine he dwindled both of our kingdoms. He considered all this a hollowed victory in our meaningless fighting.” He paused, looking up to stare Quicksilver dead in the eye.

“And now, with his plans to supplant me and forcing me and my loyal retainers into exile and hiding, his victory is nearly assured. Hence this is why I am here now to tell you this story of mine. I doubt I will live till morning until he does away with me, but his unholy alliance with our enemies will bring ruin and endless war onto both of our kinds.”

He leaned forward, his eyes filled with a fragile hope but a burning anger within.

“Young Quicksilver was it? I charge you with his task.”

He stretched forth his talon and clasped it onto his right shoulder, the edges of his talons gently but firmly holding onto him.

“End his reign. Slay my bastard son and chop the tree before he can roost. If he remains, then doom shall befall this land for generations to come. Spill his blood in my name and let your princesses know of my tale. Will you promise me this? Will you be the sword that will smite him from the face of this world?”

“You have my word.” Quicksilver promised, but the king didn’t look convinced.

“Not just words, but deeds,” He iterated, “I don’t care whatever gods you worship or if you have any inkling notion of mine or whatever fate designs then you must make it happen. May his blood never again sweep this land in a tide of his ambition. Face it head on and never deter from it. If you shirk from your duty, if you cower in the face of this evil that he will unleash then it will be the end of all things. Now, I ask again, will you make this promise?”

The king remained there, his eyes fixed on him and Quicksilver’s heart swelled with an unnatural sense of duty. He wanted vengeance, he wanted retribution against those who wronged him and the people of this land. But most important of all there was only one thing he believed he was capable of distributing on the likes of Sharpclaw.

He wanted Justice to come and he will be there to deliver it.

Quicksilver gave no hesitation and returned the gesture by raising his hoof onto the king's opposite shoulder, holding him in place.

“I will smite him off the face of this land. His name will never be remembered and he will be forgotten, for I will make it so. You have my oath that I will ensure his death by my hoofs, King Bronzeclaw."

The king held his gaze, looking for any unwavering notion that Quicksilver had given. After another moment the king patted him on the shoulder and a smile graced his features.

“Then that is all I ask.”

Author's Note

Hello Everyone.

Been far too long since I last got back into the story. I just had to take a break from writing so that I could focus on other things in life. I also thought since I didn't have an editor to help me that I couldn't make this story the best that I can give. But now, since I'm back I will be more committed in getting chapters out and getting this story wrapped up. There are still plenty of chapters left mind you but rest assured there will be magic in the air.

And there is more to come, so stay tuned.

Escape

Quicksilver exited out of the cage, stretching his body from being cramped within. Artemis entered and he kept his attention over to what was happening before him. All around he saw the small host of noble Gryphons and the diamond dogs were packed together for the upcoming departure. Many of the dogs had gathered the necessary supplies, while others carried whatever they had, either a shawl or a small pup in their paws. The gryphons had donned on armor and whatever they could find and gathered as much, if any, weapons they could should the need arise. He prayed in his heart that it would not be necessary. The whole group was moving toward the small entrance above the area, the same one that was close to where the monstrous creature resided.

He can see the gryphons, although much to their chagrin, were flying the dogs up toward the hidden path. Some of the nobles were vehemently against carrying such creatures in the talons, yet with a quick word from Glenwing the issue was sorted out. Although, Lupin had to coax his fellow kin that the gryphons intended no harm upon them. Quicksilver couldn’t help but feel pity for some of the diamond dogs. A few were so traumatized that they would not allow any of the gryphons to get near them. Lupin had to encompass some of the dogs with his own paws and allow two gryphons to lift his body up while he carried them aloft towards the hidden path.

Those dogs had seen much bloodshed and he can see in their eyes how frightened they were.

“What do you make of him?” he heard Gretchen speak. He turned to her and she gestured her head back towards the king. He looked and he saw him with his daughter, the two comforting one another. She wept in his embrace but it appeared he was more pained for their departure. Many thoughts and familiar feelings of uncertainty and of ill wrapped around his heart. Yet, he couldn’t have them linger. Not after hearing everything from him.

“There is so much more I wish to ask. For all my life I had framed all the blame onto him for all the misgivings and grievances that my people endured and for what my family suffered and for what my sister and I went through. I fought alongside my fellow brothers in thick and thin against any gryphon getting in my way. I killed my fair number of them and hated every single one since I felt that they were all connected to him, the one who sent them all to die in this war.” he paused, his eyes lingering low.

“And yet?” Gretchen replied, the snow crunching under her talons as she drew close. Quicksilver lowered his head, his mane, now seeming longer in front of his face, dangled in front of his eyes. There were still such lingering doubts, still so many things that would tear off the right path, but there had to be some small hope.

For nothing will end so long as hope remains.

And for life to be given another chance.

“I feel as if none of this should make any sense. But the more I think about it the more I should trust him. I can sort out my thoughts later but for now at least,” he turned to Gretchen with a knowing smile, “at least I can trust you in helping me make the right decision. For you…” he looked into her eyes, the same glow from the fire nearby appearing in her eyes, “And for me.” he said and her cheeks seemed to swell from her feathers on her cheeks.

“Fletchling… I”

“We tarry for too long. We cannot linger.” the voice of Lupin came at their left. Quicksilver turned his head and saw the diamond dog already at their side. Gretchen’s head turned to the side, looking almost ashamed. Quicksilver didn’t question the move but the reply he wanted to hear still longed in his heart.

“What do you mean Lupin? It’s the dead of night and the only thing we have to worry about are your drunk friend and the guards guarding the front entrance.” Quicksilver said, but the diamond dog shook his head.

“It’s not that. It’s the storm. It’s coming.” Lupin said, his voice rising.

“Storm? But everything looks calm.” Quicksilver said, his eyes looking above and seeing nothing but the gentle snow coming down around them.

“You ponies may not know this but for us diamond dogs we can sense when a storm is coming. Whether you may sense it or not if the clouds were high or if the sky was clear as day, it matters not. We diamond dogs know that a storm is coming and this one is a big one. We best get out of here now before it hits and hunker down until it passes.” he said and the concern was not mendacious in any way.

“For once in my life I would have to agree with this dog,” the voice of Glenwing came in and the large gryphon appeared by his peripheral vision. Quicksilver watched as the older gryphon strode forth, carrying himself with some small manner of military decorum that befitted his rank of being right claw to the king. Towing in behind him Artemis followed, her head was low but she held something in her talons. She was holding it close to her chest and didn’t want to part with it.

“I’ve seen these dogs cower whenever a storm was to come to pass and I want nothing more then to be ahead of it before it strikes.”

“How long do we have until it arrives?” Quicksilver asked, watching as Lupin looked to the skies.

“If I was to guess it will be within the hour, maybe less.” he said, his ears flat against his head. Not wanting to waste any more time, Quicksilver began to head towards their exit.

“Then let us not waste time,” Quicksilver stated. They followed close behind as they went, a small gathering of the remaining diamond dogs and gryphon nobles moving into the small pass above. A few diamond dogs who refused to be carried climbed their own way up the wall, holding their precious cargo in their arms or on their backs. When they reached near the top they were lifted by their sisters and in the safety of their families, with a few gryphons hovered nearby to help if some had fallen. Quicksilver stopped near the edge of the diamond dogs, watching as the last few older or infrim dogs were being carried up by their companions. While he waited he turned to see the cyclops staring at them.

It was an eerie sight. The massive beast watched only a dozen or more yards away and he thanked the goddess that his chains were short. It licked its chops from the poor gryphon he had not too long ago and the blood was still visible in its fangs. The creature made a sound that sounded like laughter but it felt like the sound of rumbling boulders bouncing off each other. It’s massive head leaned forward, still smiling all the while at us.

“Što više trčiš, ja više lovim.” (The more you run, the more I hunt.) The creature said, in it’s own tongue, reverberating the same laughter within its own chest. The cyclops leaned back and rested back against the wall of the mountain, the impact making the ground shake underneath him.

Whatever he spoke it didn’t sound promising or of any good. The sooner they leave. The better.

“C,mon fletchling,” Gretchen spoke, snapping him from his thoughts. He felt her talons wrap closely around his waist and was pulled up into the air. He could feel the claws flat against him but the tips of her talons would prick into his ribs but not enough to bring him discomfort. She was being extra cautious with him and for that he was grateful.

A moment later the two landed at the top, being welcomed by a few diamond dogs who carried him down onto the soft snow.

“Thank you for doing this,” Tala spoke, releasing Quicksilver as he got to the ground level. A fellow diamond dog, a small pup from the look of it, that came just below his knees, was holding his gear that they had placed here earlier. The blue eyed dog had hope in it’s eyes, believing in him to lead their family out of here. He returned with a friendly smile and accepted the gear, the small pup gleamed from his. He then double checked to see if everything was in order.

The food was in the right place, wrapped tightly in a cloth so they wouldn’t jumble about. The blanket was stored over and ready for use if necessary, the music box was set in the center, protected by the cloth, and finally both the letter and the journal from Dugalle was inside. He sighed, his breath caught in the air as he knew what he needed for the road ahead. He tightened the bag as best he could and, with the assistance of a friendly dog, he managed to ensure it was secure upon his back. With that in mind he turned back to see the rest of the gryphons coming up. The remaining dogs were soon brought up and the gryphons were well wishing to be done with this place; he turned back to the main group that had spread amongst the path.

At first the sight of all the dogs watching him caught him off guard. They were all packed together, stretched out among the path, a few gryphons intermingled with them but for the most part they all were awaiting for him to guide them. Among them he saw Lupin with his mate Jade, who the former was checking in with her. It would appear they all wanted him to be ahead of the pack and to lead them on.

He glanced over to the gryphons, wanting to check and see what they were up to. Some were conversing with Gretchen about what they should do next once they escaped the camp. A fair number wondered if they should leave the dogs to their fate and take flight, but Glenwing and Gretchen managed to convince them otherwise. Others still questioned her relationship with him and he saw a few give him uneasy leers. Though the gryphon language she used was not something he was familiar with, he could see that their earlier perception of him had changed, albeit with some uncertainty among them. He would worry about the issue later since they needed to get out of here quickly without disturbing the camp's inhabitants.

“Alright, let’s move,” Quicksilver said, the parting dogs away for him to lead on down the path.

He passed by Lupin and Jade, the former nodding to him in turn, and allowed him to pass and lead them onward. He kept himself marching in a single file line, going down the same path as before. The soft shuffle of snow was apparent but as he glanced back and could see many of the dogs following in a line behind him and walking in his own steps.

The less noise the better perhaps.

He continued marching, allowing himself time to think. The more he allowed his mind to wander the more concern grew on him. What could they all do once they escaped the vicinity of the camp? How will they slip away and escape any of the sentries or for that matter get into the mountains? Lupin said a storm was coming and it could be on them within hours if not sooner. Would the gryphons tolerate seeking shelter with the diamond dogs? Would there be any time to secure all of their supplies for the long arduous journey home? And if they escape would Gretchen…

He paused in his rumbling thoughts, Gretchen filling him with what had gone through these past few months. He turned his head and out of his peripheral vision he saw at the back of the column that Gretchen was speaking with Artemis and with Glenwing. Whatever they conversed he knew not, but he knew it was right, she needed to speak among her kind. She could be relaying what had transpired between her time and with the passing of Dugalle. Glenwing was stoic and silent, nodding his head and replying in turn whenever Gretchen had finished up. Artemis was also quiet, her head low and uncertainty still lingering over her.

He had seen it before when he was back in Prancy and the sorry sights of the ponies that had suffered so.

“Hold, the path is blocked,” a voice came ahead and he swiveled his head to see some of the gryphons up ahead and panic coursed through him at what he saw.

The path ahead was buried in snow.

He rushed over to the covered mound, disbelief running through his mind. The whole snow was packed together and was roughly the height of a small watchtower. He had remembered clearly the path being open for them to escape.

“We came this way, it should not be blocked,” he said, his voice low among the group.

“Let me check,” a gryphon noble said, his wings opened up and he went to the height of the snowpack. He was anxious, uncertain as to how far they would have to dig in order to escape. A short moment passed and the gryphon returned.

“It’s not that much, the length of two gryphons perhaps, but it can be accessible,” the gryphon said, making Quicksilver feel somewhat at ease, if only but a little.

“Let’s not waste any time but be diligent. We cannot allow the guards to hear us,” He said, and the gryphons nodded in approval.

“We can help, tell us what to do,” Tala offered, and Quicksilver saw a dozen of her fellow dogs come forward, eager to help however they can.

“There is not much space, but let’s see it done,” Quicksilver said, parting to the side as the first few dogs came forward.

The work began in earnest, two diamond dogs were digging in the front, pulling down large armfuls of snow out of the pack, they would then pass of the large bits of snow to their sisters and they would disperse it as best they could on either side of the wall. The few gryphons that helped ensured that there was enough snow moved from the top so that no larger pieces fall on top of them. Quicksilver helped were he could, using his hooves to dig deep incisions into the snow and helping where he could.

“Need help lad?” the voice of Cross Sabre perked his ears.

“By all means,” Quicksilver replied, too focused to look at the thestral. Sabre joined his side and dug with him. Quicksilver had to pause briefly when he noticed how big he was. The stallion was a good head taller then him. Probably as tall as some of the farm ponies who had met back home. Though, if the thestral still had his wings, he could imagine appearing far more bigger in size.

Returning to the work before him they dug deeper and deep into the snow. Both Quicksilver and Sabre were in the middle while two diamond dogs were on either side of them. Above, six gryphons were busy ensuring that the snow above did not fall down. They would fly back with scooped up mounds of snow to the back of the line, while another gryphon took their place. Behind them was a small train of dogs, each one doing their part in helping move the snow along and sending the packs of snow onto the sides of the walls.

The snow was bitter and cold but they were moving fast. He couldn’t imagine if he and Gretchen had to do this alone if they had only come for a few of the prisoners. He was glad he decided to help everyone out. The first few yards passed and more of the fresh snow was giving way. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the other side.

“How’re you holding up?” Quicksilver asked mid dig.

“I hurt all over and pissed off at that gryphon for tearing me wings and I'm chilly to the bone. Other than that I’m fine,” he said, his voice dry but still carrying wit. Quicksilver acknowledged with a grunt as he continued to pull more snow. A few more moments passed, more snow being pulled away and the path slowly becoming more clear.

“So… mind telling me… why a thestral is out here with gryphons,” Quicksilver said through breaths, shuffling away as a diamond dog pulled some snow away from his side.

“I would hafta tell that story over a pint when we escape. But I can give an ole short version if that suits your curiosity,” Sabre said in his deep tone, pushing his way further in and causing more snow to come down behind them, and the path, thankfully, was more visible ahead of them.

“Short would do,” Quicksilver said, grunting as his hooves dug deeper into the ice and fallen snow.

“I’m out here lookin for my kin. They had come out here searching for a suitable colony fer themselves. We;ve been trying to find a home for all of us thestrals, until several months ago we found a mountain that would be suitable. We had sent word to them but mee didn’t hear back from them for many months. They sent me and a couple of mates out to investigate and find our missing tribe. When we arrived out here we ran across them gryphons, the king and his flock.” Sabre motioned his head back to the gryphons.

“We helped them out of a jam when they were low on supplies and we trusted each other to a certain point. However, when that twat bastard found us he took us all in and I lost all of me mates that came along with me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he replied.

“Bah… we all knew the risks. Consider it a shepherd searching for his lost flock. You want to ensure they are all still alive and well even though the paths may be perilous.” he said, surging forth to break the last of snow and the path before them was now clear.

“Oh that dosey does it.” he said, and with the path cleared the two parted to allow the first of the diamond dogs to go through.

“Straight ahead the path will lead us just outside the camp, from there keep moving down the mountain.” Quicksilver stated, encouraging the diamond dogs and allowing them a taste of freedom to come. They hurriedly kept apace followed closely by the gryphons, a few deciding to fly overhead as quietly as they could.

“Well Sabre, if ever the time comes… I would like to take you up on that offer for a drink and to learn about this new land you now call home.” Quicksilver stated, and Sabre nodded.

“Aye… that aye can do. Once we get out of here,” he replied, albeit his voice being lethargic.

It would seem that he still hasn't got enough time to rest. And only time would tell if he had the strength to make it out of this alive.

“We must press on, we can’t linger,” Lupin reminded us all in a quite tone, pressing forward with his mate and following behind the pack.

“Let us go fletchling, Gretchen’s voice carried over to him. He saw her striding over, with both Glenwing and Artemis in tow. Glenwing still carried himself with whatever pride he had, though he was close to Artemis, making sure he matched her stride. Artemis was still silent, her face appearing pale as if she had seen death come before her. Every step was dragged across the snow, and her eyes held a gloom of sadness across her countenance.

After all that has happened he couldn’t blame her for what she has gone through.

“Will you be alright?” Quicksilver asked her, but she didn’t answer. Glenwing, on the other hoof, pushed himself in the front with a guarded wing protecting her.

“You are not to speak to the princess, The king’s daughter is all that he has left and she will need my protection now more than ever.” Glenwing stated, showing defiance.

“I merely wished to check on the princess and her condition,” Quicksilver retorted, “I want to ensure she will be ready for the long journey ahead.”

The older gryphon eyes narrowed and glared at him with much venom.

“By what right does a stubborn equine decide a humble gryphons fate?,” He took a step forward towards him, his wings expanding more to their full height. They were massive in stature, but the colors where less pristine then when they once were, the blue fading near it’s edge but the red trim still stood out. He stopped a foot in front of him, his head hanging over quicksilver.

“I’ve lived long enough to see the whole bloody war and the king bronzeclaws reign. I’ve watched young soldiers fight and die alongside me far too often due to them rushing headlong into the fray. The horrors that I have seen and the fights I’ve witnessed and endured are what made me who I am. I be wary, young whelp, of provoking this old bird. For I belong in a profession where fledglings and unwary gryphons usually die young.” He said, never once losing his gaze on him. Quicksilver held his ground, not backing down.

“Oi now… don’t get your knickers in a bunch. Aren’t we all trying to escape with our skins still attached?” Sabre said, replied in a gruff tone.

“You stay out of this, thestral, this is none of your concern,” Glenwing snapped harshly to Sabre. The thestral snorted in annoyance.

“If it weren’t for me and my lads dying for ya, you wouldn't be alive to tell about it,” Sabre replied, taking a step towards the royal. Before it could escalate any further Quicksilver opened his wings and put himself between the two. His wings brush against them both and he felt the noticeable pressure burning on his wings and he grimaced from the pain.

“Enough of this,” he spoke in a quiet tone, “ We are right in the middle of this camp with possibly a thousand or more soldiers. We can argue and be bitter over everything that has happened to our lives but now is not the time. Let us get out of here first then we can go after each other’s throats. Deal?” Quicksilver said, sternly. He wanted nothing to defuse the situation before it turned to a raging fire between them.

“Eh fine by me,” Sabre said, turning away from Glenwing. The noble chuffed and said nothing, only returning to Artemis' side and placing a wing over her. She didn’t mind it, nor did she show any emotion. However, she did lean a little into him from his touch. The two went past him and went on ahead, the snow falling down from above. Quicksilver’s gaze went upward, seeing the small flakes landing all around them. Some flurried around in dizzying heights, others fell heavy onto the blanket of snow.

It was only a matter of time when the storm would be upon them.

“Fletchling?” he heard Gretchen next to him. He looked at her, noticing her concern. He gave a half smile.

“I’m alright, just tired,” he paused for a moment before looking her in the eye, a sense of tiredness looming over him, “It's just, we can’t settle down, we are so close to escaping. And yet, I have no idea if we are able to reach safety with our feathers still intact. How we can get through the storm without getting stuck in another hole in the mountain. I just-” he was about to say when he felt a wing gently brush against the side of his face.

“Fletchling,” Gretchen said, her voice tired but calm. The snow around them still slowly descends around them. “Whatever happens next, I will still be here. You’ve proven that more to me everyday. You, of all ponies or gryphons, have been able to lift me up when I was at my weakest. Let us forge ahead and together we shall make it through this. You’re still my Begleiterin. And forever you shall be.” she explained. Quicksilver's face was flushed, feeling some comfort from that word she used, and he lifted a hoof to rub the back of his head.

“Thank you, though, you are going to have to explain to me what that is. I know some words of the gryphon language but not all of it. He said, to which Gretchen blinked in mild confusion, her outstretched wing returning to her side

“Oh… I haven’t told you that yet, let me just…” she paused, her eyes fixated on his hoof.

“May I see your hoof?” she asked, her talon open to him. Quicksilver was confused at first but he allowed it. Gretchen seized the hood and turned it upright. The whole hoof was covered in snow and ice, the sole completely covered and rose several inches high.

“It's nothing to worry about,” Quicksilver attempted to wave it off before Gretchen moved her other talon over the area where the ice was thickest.

“I noticed you’re standing off, I’m just surprised that you didn’t notice it at all.” she commented, her talon tracing the edge of the ice, a few flecks being pulled back from the touch. She repeated the pattern, scratching and pulling the talon back to scrap more ice shaving off the sole of the hoof.

“Honestly for us equines we don’t have much feeling in our hooves.” Quicksilver stated but Gretchen appeared undeterred from scratching.

A moment passed between them, then another, as the two waited under the star lit sky. The sound of the scratching and their breathing was all that surrounded them. Quicksilver wanted to protest, to speak up that they should get going and join the rest of the group. Yet, despite that urge, the subtle movements of her talon removing the ice and the soft noise it emanated, made him feel at ease. It reminds him of a time long ago when he was in training and he got his hoof stuck in a rope trap. He had panicked back then of trying to get out, but the harder he tugged the tighter it would get. It was only once he had calmed down and helped him he was able to escape.

In this moment, a calmness had wrapped around him with Gretchen by his side.

“There we go, it’s all clean.” she said, letting go of the hoof. He observed it for a moment, the inner recesses of his hoof was clean of all of the ice. How it got that way he didn’t not know, though, he had a hunch that being near the waters of the hot spring could have been the cause. He felt her prod into him.

“Come, let us be off,” she began moving along the path and he followed by her side.

“Gretchen,” Quicksilver began to say, but his words died in his mouth. What he wanted to utter was uncouth and yet he could not contain the nagging question. For her part she did not notice at first but he could see one one of her eyes watching him. She was waiting, patiently waiting, to listen to what he had to say. Taking a deep breath in, he had to tell her honestly.

“Gretchen, once we escape, will you return home to Gryphonstone?”

Gretchen stopped in her tracks, the snow padded softly from the abrupt halt. He stopped as well but his gaze never left her sight.

“I don’t know,” Gretchen replied, albeit softly, “I don’t know what will happen next. The Princess must be escorted to safety and far away from that bastard,” a pause hung in the air between them, “We will need to plan, regroup, and for the most part survive this winter.”

“Yet, we can’t, can we.”

Gretchen turned her head till she was face to face with him, her feathers bristling in the cold air that hung around them.

“What are you suggesting,” she asked.

“We have to make our way back to Prancy. Get to the Princesses of my land of Equestria and finally put an end to this war. We need to escape these mountains and into the safety of my people. If we can do that, there might be hope for everyone.”

“Fletchling, the animosity runs high between gryphons and equines,” she broke eye contact and moved a few paces forward in disbelief, “ I am skeptical of the fact that they would treat us fairly,”

“And how is my treatment any different?” he stated, taking a few paces forward and matching her, “ we equines will be understanding of your plight and they will get us the help we need.”

“And what of Sharpclaw? He will no doubt be gathering his forces and strike against your people before we even reach them.”

“Then we have little time to waste, and we must get to them before anything else happens.”

Gretchen turned around to face him again, only this time she had a look of annoyance upon her countenance.

“It is too dangerous. You can’t fly, the guards will be watching every crevice within these mountains when they find out their prey is missing and they will hunt us down to no end.”

“Which is why we need to get out of these mountains before anything else happens, we need to escape the coming storm before we end up trapped by the cold and their talons.”

“You're pushing a decision that is not easy to make,” Gretchen stated, her feathers puffing out. Her same demeanor from their first interaction resurfacing. “I can’t risk my people and the life of the princess for this dangerous trek. It is folly.” she stated, “ We are ending this conversation here, we must go now,” she said, turning to leave.

“Don’t you even trust me?” Quiksilver asked. She stopped in her tracks, her annoyance dissipated and her eyes widened. He stepped forward while she remained where she was.

“You managed to convince the other gryphons that I was to be their friend, that I had formed a special bond with you. Does that mean nothing to not even consider my proposal?” He took another step, then adding, “Do you not even consider what we have done together, the time that we have spent together?” Gretchen remaining in place as her feathers bristled.

“Fletchling, that is…” she tried to speak but he kept pushing to her.

“Does that bond mean nothing, am I nothing to you?” Quicksilver stated. Gretchen remained motionless, but her eyes were the most telling. The suddenness of his question caught her off guard while he remained defiant in his belief. She was shocked, for there was no doubt, but there was also a sadness that he could see in her eyes. A sadness that he saw when they had first met General Quill dead inside that cabin.

“Fletching, you must understand. They won’t care… they will never care about... this… I,” she tried to speak, her words becoming hard to understand as she fumbled to get out in the open.

“What is there to understand? I care.” he said, taking her by surprise, “I cared as we leaned into each other’s shoulders. I cared to be by your side as you had for mine. I cared when you were alone when Quill died. I cared when I finally heard the truth from Bronzeclaw. Do you not see that I care for your safety Gretchen? For you? For you I cared.”

“Fletchling,” she uttered, her breath shuddering in the wind but her eyes betrayed her. She looked… hurt. Seeing this he withdrew himself for a moment. Letting the words linger between them. When she didn’t respond he took a deep breath, clearing his thoughts, and speaking once again.

“Are we to stand by and do nothing? Hide while the hunters find us in our burrows? You seek to hide while Sharpclaw decides to kill and maim everyone till he gets what he wants. I’m offering a solution, a chance to escape, and you want to hide? I can’t stand idle, not with that mad gryphon on the loose. Because I cared enough for you, to see this through to the end. Will you let me help you once more?”

He waited for a response from her but she said nothing. The sadness in her eyes remained strong while she still lingered. Quicksilver wondered if he had pushed too far. Yet, his conscience was burdened with that nagging thought. A question that he tried to unwind and for his mind to be clear. For only she had the answer to his question.

Would she be willing to stay by his side?

“Oi Quicksilver,” the voice of Sabre came from down the path, breaking the long trance between them. He saw the thestral wave a hoof to him. “Don’t get cold hooves now. We gotta skedaddle. The dogs are getting anxious.” he said, waiting for them to move. Gretchen was the first to look away, and Quicksilver could hear her sigh deeply.

“Fletchling,” she started, not looking him in the eye. “Please don’t bring this up now. You don’t understand. The tradition that my people have. I ask that you be patient, please.” her last words were heavy with grief, almost sounding regretful.

“Please Fletchling, just wait for me.” she said, walking down the path and leaving Quicksilver were he was.

“Gretchen,” he tried to speak but she didn’t stop to listen. However, he couldn’t stop himself from what he was feeling in his heart.

“Gretchen… will there even be an us?”

Gretchen didn’t look back, her silence remaining between them.

He remained there a few moments longer, not even hearing a reply as she went deeper down the path. The snow coming down was becoming heavier and the wind was picking up and he adjusted his pack while feeling his heart longing to hear what she had to say.

He followed down the trail shortly thereafter, his actions weighing heavily on his mind. He inwardly sighed, defeated, yet, the ember within him still burned for an answer.

Author's Note

Merry Christmas Everyone. I will get back into this story. It has been far too long.