The Griffon on the High Hill

Ten o’clock in the morning. Inside the ballroom of one of Griffonia’s most luxurious hotels, griffons dash through the room. Phones rang and messages were being read out loud through the chatter in the room. Nervousness dominated the room as all of those present waited for one, just one thing. A message.

Just outside the hotel, a young, poor-looking griffon landed. The four soldiers that stood in front of the hotel entrance let him pass and showed him the way to the ballroom. There was a sudden, utter silence as the door to the room was opened. The young griffon stepped into the room, slowly and nervously. He watched as all the elderly ones turned towards him, ending phone calls and dropping their pens. It was him they had been waiting for. He was the messenger.

“The eagle has landed,” he said.

The silence continued for a few seconds before laughter, cheering and even applause broke loose. Those were the code words for the successful occupation of the government district. Their troops, mostly consisting of untrained volunteers, had actually succeeded. Many of those present in the room were military officials, most of whom were generals or officers. Plenty of them had already begun to think that their operation, their march on Weter, had failed. At last, however, their doubts were dismissed.

The cheerful atmosphere subsided quickly, however. More and more eyes fell upon Highhill as he sat at a desk, his claws folded behind his head.

“Sir. Are you alright?” an officer asked him. Erwin simply waved a claw at him to dismiss his doubts.

The aged Field Marshall looked down on three different maps, his eyes jumping between them, back and forth. “This can’t be,” he thought to himself. “I must be missing something, something important. But what, what is it? What could I have missed?”
He continued scanning his maps, not knowing what he was even looking for. He didn’t notice that the others in the room were whispering and becoming worried for him, especially when they found him starting to talk to himself.

“Sir, we-”

“No! No! Something is wrong! Something must be wrong!” Erwin yelled, throwing his maps off the desk. The crowd watched him as he breathed heavily. “It was too easy!” he yelled again. “It has to be a trap! An ambush, maybe!”

“Sir, you should calm down,” a general said.

“Calm down? Calm down? The enemy is tricking us! Deceiving us!” Highhill countered.

“Our troops report to have met very little resistance, Sir. It is likely that we have achieved complete surprise. It’s more than unlikely to think that they have a counter-attack planned.”

Highhill remained silent. He took a deep breath, in and out, before rising from his seat.

“I must apologise for my behaviour,” Erwin said politely. “My growing age is taking its toll on me. I’m sorry.”

Officers and Generals alike turned and began whispering with each other. Highhill could do nothing but let them, at the time.

“Excuse me, Sir,” one of them said, stepping forward and effectively silencing the rest of the crowd. “I believe we are still not done, I’m afraid.”

“And why is that? Did I miss something, after all?” He could feel his pulse rising once again at just the sheer thought of failure.

“The Ultimatum, Sir. We have captured most of the delegates and nobles of the Parliament and have them at our mercy. There are still some of them out there, however. We need to—”

“ —Secure our power, yes,” Highhill interrupted, stroking his beak. “Right. Let us not waste time then. You, prepare me a car and an escort. Departure in five minutes,” he said to one of the generals. “You, tell the troops of my arrival. I would like them to know that I shall join them soon,” he said to another. “And the rest of you, get back to work! I want to be informed on anything and everything!”

From one moment to the other, the room returned to its previous, chaotic state. Phone calls were made, radio messages sent and messages written. Erwin wasted no time in abandoning his desk and heading for the door. His mind had already muted all the noise in the room by the time he arrived at the door. One last time, he looked back into the room with a smirk. Perhaps everything was going according to plan, after all.