The Griffin's Apprentice

Chapters

Leftoverture
Somewhere to Elsewhere
Point of No Return
In the Spirit of Things

Leftoverture

It was supposed to be a simple job. Just deliver the letter and await instructions. For any other griffin, it would have been. Unfortunately for Gilda, the address on the letter had led her back to the one place she had hoped to never see again: Ponyville. The prospect of running into Rainbow Dash again made her feel like her stomach was tied in a knot. The prospect of running into Pinkie Pie made her want to just fly away and never look back. Unfortunately, she needed to eat, and this job paid very well.

There weren’t many griffins in the world with dual citizenship in both the Homeland and Equestria, and due to the official nature of the letter, the law required that the courier be a griffin. Even with the premium Gilda had charged for her services, it was still cheaper for those stuffy bureaucrats back in Stormtalon to just pay her rather than filling out the paperwork to send a official messenger to Equestria, not to mention faster and more discrete. What the High Council wanted with a mare living in Ponyville of all places, though, was beyond her.

“Well, let's get this over with,” Gilda mumbled to herself, standing on a bridge leading into the town. With a heavy sigh, she spread her wings and took to the air, hoping for the best. The sun had only just risen, so the streets were empty. If she was lucky, she’d be able to find the pony she was looking for and deliver the letter without attracting any attention. As if I’m ever lucky...

The sun sat low in the east as Lyra Heartstrings took a seat on her favorite bench in the park, setting her saddlebags down on the bench beside her. Nopony else in the town was out and about, and silence filled the air.

Not for long, the unicorn thought, her horn lighting up with a golden aura as she drew her lyre out of her saddlebags, readying it in her front hooves. She could practice anytime she wanted, but there was one thing that made this time of day special, all she had to do was wait for it. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait for long, as the local starlings were beginning to sing. Closing her eyes, Lyra picked out the song of a single bird and listened to it, isolating the sound from the rest of the morning choir. Then she answered it, the strings of her lyre lighting up as the plucked them with her magic, returning the perfect tones to compliment the starling’s song. The collaboration continued for several minutes, with Lyra’s answers becoming more and more complex with each exchange. Eventually, Lyra’s song merged with the bird’s, harmonizing with it instead of answering it and leading into the finale... At least it would have, if not for the griffin landing in front of her with a loud thud. Startled, Lyra, jumped to her hooves, barely managing to catch her lyre with magic before it hit the ground.

“Lyra Heartstrings?” the griffin asked, narrowing her eyes at the unicorn. Unsure of how to respond, Lyra simply stared blankly at the griffin and slowly nodded her head. Reaching into a small pouch tied to her leg, the griffin pulled out an envelope stamped with an ornate wax seal, engraved with an image of a lyre over a wing. “I have a message for you.” The unicorn turned her stare to the envelope for a moment before breaking out into a ridiculously wide grin. “Are you gonna take it or not?”

“YES!” Lyra shouted at the top of her lungs, leaping a good distance into the air, snatching the envelope out of the griffin’s talons with her magic as she hit the ground. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She reached out with her front hooves and shook the griffin’s claw, simultaneously retrieving her saddlebags and packing away her lyre. “I knew he’d keep his promise eventually! Oh! I need to go pack!” She began to gallop off.

“Wait, you need to read it, first!” the griffin shouted after her. The pony skidded to a stop, turned around, and trotted back over to the griffin. “Good, now go ahead and-”

“Hey, have you had breakfast yet?” Lyra asked, cutting the griffin off.

“No, but what does that have to do with-”

“Then come on!” Once again lighting up her horn, the unicorn took hold of the griffin’s front leg and again galloped off towards home, dragging her unwilling guest behind her.

“Look, I just need you to read the letter so I can get my instructions and get paid,” Gilda said as Lyra rummaged through her refrigerator. “I’m kinda in a hurry, here.” The kitchen in Lyra’s house was simple and brightly colored, just like the exterior of the house, as well as the exterior of almost every other house in the town for that matter. Glancing out the window, Gilda noticed that a few ponies were starting to mill about in the street. So much for getting out of here unseen...

“Then consider this a part of your payment!” Lyra said cheerfully, emerging from the fridge with several items in tow that Gilda never bothered to look at, instead opting to sit down at a nearby table and bury her head in her front legs with a groan. “I’m sorry I don’t have much food suited for you, but I know a simple little meal that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” The unicorn walked over to another part of the kitchen, and Gilda heard a simple gas stove click on.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about the letter says?” Gilda asked.

“Nope!” Lyra answered. “I’d recognize that seal anywhere, so I know exactly what the letter’s about.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s it from, then?” Gilda shot back, sceptical.

“That’s none of your business.”

“What?!”

“Oh, don’t get your feathers in a bunch,” Lyra said, walking over to the table and sliding a plate in front of the griffin before sitting down opposite her with a plate of her own. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before, though. You ever been in Ponyville before?”

“Name’s Gilda, and where I’ve been is none of your business,” the griffin replied bluntly, shooting a glare at Lyra before looking at what was on her plate. “So, what’s this supposed to be?”

“Cinnamon-coated fried apples on cheese slices,” Lyra replied through a mouthful of the stuff. “Go ahead, try it!”

“Only if you read the letter already!” Gilda had just about had it with the pony, and probably would have resorted to more threatening types of persuasion if the job wasn’t so important.

“Fine, fine. I guess your feathers are just permanently in a bunch, then,” Lyra said, levitating the letter over to her from the counter and opening it.

About time, Gilda thought as she absentmindedly popped an apple slice into her beak. Huh, these aren’t half bad. As the griffin continued to eat, Lyra read the letter, the look of confidence on her face turning to one of confusion as her eyes moved down the page. “What, the letter not about what you expected?” Gilda asked smugly.

“No, it’s exactly what I thought it was about,” Lyra replied, turning the letter over to see if she had missed anything on the back.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just so... formal...”

“I see...” Gilda said, lying. She gets a letter from the High Council of Stormtalon and doesn’t expect it to be formal? Either she has some big connections, or she’s just delusional... “So, what does it say about my payment?”

“I’ll... be right back,” Lyra said, standing up and walking out of the room, still holding the letter in front of her and staring at it in confusion. Gilda slapped a taloned hand to her face in frustration.

I’m never getting out of here, am I? After eating the last apple slice, Gilda turned to stare out the window and watch the ponies walk by. The local street vendors were just starting to set up shop, including the same one Gilda had stolen an apple from over a year ago. She never felt guilty for it. Anyone that careless deserves to lose a little. It’s like these ponies trust each other completely. They never watch their backs, because they assume that their neighbor is watching it for them. They should be watching out for what those neighbors are doing behind their backs instead.

Almost immediately after the fruit vendor flipped her “closed” sign to “open”, a familiar blue streak skidded to a stop in front of it: Rainbow Dash. It was at that moment that Gilda realized how visible she was to the ponies on the street. None of these ponies seem to have noticed me so far... Better play it safe, though... Gilda slowly stood up and began to back away from the window, trying not to draw attention to herself. She breathed a sigh of relief as Rainbow Dash purchased an apple and took off straight up into the air, never having seen her. That was close, she thought as she sat back down in the chair and closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop pounding. Maybe I do get some good luck every once in awhile.

“Gilda?”

Or not. Gilda opened her eyes to see Rainbow Dash lounging on a cloud just outside the window, apple in hoof, staring at her with a look of equal parts confusion, surprise, and suspicion. I should have known she’d just come back with a cloud! She always hated to eat and fly at the same time. Use your head, idiot! Jumping to her feet, Gilda dove away from the window and pressed herself up against the wall next to it, trying to hide.

“Gilda, I know you’re in there there. Part of your wing is sticking out,” Dash said, unamused. The griffin cursed under her breath as she realized that the pegasus was right; the tip of her left wing was still visible in the window. Sometimes being big and scary wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “Just come out here and talk to me already!”

I guess there’s no avoiding it anymore... Resigning herself to her fate, Gilda paused to collect herself in in front of the front door before opening it and stepping out. Rainbow Dash maneuvered the cloud around behind her as she left the building, as if to cut off her retreat.

“What are you doing here?” the pegasus asked from her perch on the cloud.

“It’s none of your business, Dash. I’m leaving soon, anyway.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. This has nothing to do with you,” Gilda said, her voice shaking as she struggled to control herself. Part of her wanted to fly away and never look back. Another part of her wanted to beat the living daylights out of Dash. Yet another part of her wanted to roll over and take whatever blame was being sent her way, letting everything go back to the way it was before. Back in happier times... I didn’t do anything wrong, though! She turned her back on me!

“I think we both know that it’s about me, G,” Dash said. “The Gilda I know never lets anypony cross her and get away with it. Why else would you come back here? What do you have planned? Traps hidden around town to get back at me for the pranks? Some sort of setup to frame Pinkie and sabotage our friendship?”

“No,” Gilda growled, beginning to lean towards the “beat the snot out Dash” plan.

“Just what kind of game are you trying to-” the pegasus began, only to be cut off by a brief flash of gold light from behind her. A pair of mint-green hooves planted themselves on her cloud and spun it around.

“How about you lay off the griffin and let me out of my house, okay?” Lyra said in a low voice, now face to face with a startled Rainbow Dash and giving the pegasus a glare Gilda never would have thought her capable of. She gave the cloud a hard shove to the left, causing it to drift out of the way of her and the several bags she was levitating with her. “She’s with me, and I really don’t appreciate you harassing my guest. Come on, Gilda.” The unicorn closed and locked her door behind her before trotting away from Dash down the road. The griffin followed, leaving Rainbow Dash just as dumbstruck confused as she was. The other ponies in the street stared at the odd pair as they walked by, but Lyra either didn’t care, or didn’t notice.

“Uh... thanks for the save, I guess...” Gilda said, still not entirely sure that what had just happened was real.

“Think nothing of it,” Lyra replied with a smile. “Rainbow Dash is a great pony, but she has issues accepting that Celestia doesn’t make the sun revolve around just her sometimes.”

“So... I guess this is where we part ways, then. All I need are the instructions from that letter, and I’ll be out of your mane.”

“Not quite!” Lyra giggled.

“What?”

“Read for yourself!” The unicorn levitated a torn piece of paper over to Gilda, which seemed to be the bottom half of the letter. Snatching it out of the air, the griffin paused to read...

...circumstances will be explained further. As for the messenger who delivered this letter, his/her instructions are as follows:

The messenger is to accompany you to Stormtalon Keep as a bodyguard, whereupon he/she will be paid the previously agreed upon amount in addition to ample compensation for his/her continued services. If the messenger chooses to decline this offer, he/she will receive the previously agreed upon payment via normal post in the next six to eight weeks following confirmation of the delivery of this letter. We eagerly await your arrival.

Aldric Swiftclaw, Secretary to the High Council of Stormtalon.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Gilda shouted in frustration. She was just expecting to meet a courier somewhere for her payment, not to have to escort a pony all the way to the capital. And how important is this pony, anyway? Important enough that even the fact that she needs a bodyguard was kept a secret...

“Nopony’s forcing you to come,” Lyra said.

“They might as well be,” Gilda replied, tucking the piece of the letter back into the pouch she had originally carried it in. “I need that money. Otherwise I don’t eat, and waiting a few months isn’t something I can afford right now.”

“Look on the bright side, it could be fun! We get to travel to the capital of the Griffin Empire! How many people get to do that?”

“Going home isn’t exactly my definition of fun...” the griffin mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” The pair continued down the road, and it soon became apparent that Lyra was heading towards the local train station. It beats flying, I guess... Gilda thought, trying to convince herself that it would be fun, somehow. She soon realized that she had a problem, though. “Hey, I don’t exactly have any money for a train ticket.”

“No worries,” Lyra replied, “I’ve got you covered for transportation. I’m sure we’ll be reimbursed for our expenses, anyway.”

“I guess that makes sense, considering who’s inviting you. How does a pony like you even get invited to Stormtalon to begin with, though?”

“I know a guy,” Lyra said.

“You just ‘know a guy’ on the High Council?”

“Well, I didn’t know he even was a member of the Council until I got the letter today, but yes.” Lyra sighed and smiled, as if recalling a fond memory.

“Yeah? And who might that be?” Gilda asked, hoping that she would stop dancing around the question.

“I guess I should tell you, now that we’re traveling together...” Lyra said after long pause. “You have to promise to keep it a secret, though.”

“You have my word,” Gilda replied, crossing her breast with a talon in the traditional griffin affirmation of an oath. Lyra nodded, apparently recognizing the gesture.

“His name is Maestro Caesar Cambiare, and I’m his apprentice.”

Somewhere to Elsewhere

Fifteen Years Ago...

"Heartstrings! Come back here this instant, young filly!" The voice of the foalsitter carried through the crowd, but the pony the call was intended for payed it no heed.

I know I saw it go this way! Definitely! the filly thought as she galloped away from the shouts. Darting around and between the legs of the other ponies, the tiny unicorn made her way to the edge of the market square, finding herself at the entrance to one of Canterlot's many back alleyways. Peering into the passage, she saw something large move in the shadows. The same shape she had seen in the crowd. It was nothing like any pony she had ever seen, and she had to know what it was. As she ventured onward, she heard a door creak open and slam shut in the alleyway, showing her which way the figure had gone.

"Heartstrings!" her foalsitter called again in the distance, this time with more than a hint of desperation in her voice.

"I'll be right back. I promise," the child whispered to herself, knowing that the foalsitter couldn't hear her. Reaching the door, the filly saw a small latch keeping it shut. Simple enough for a grown pony to nudge with their nose and open the door, but a rather difficult undertaking for one of smaller stature. Luckily, she had been learning about how to do stuff like this in school.

Simple magic should be easy, right? Closing her eyes and focusing, her horn sparked to life with a faint, flickering glow. After a moment she heard the latch click, and the door slowly creak open. She opened her eyes to see the world spinning around her, nearly walking headlong into the wall in her exertion-induced stupor. Luckily, she managed to wobble her way in the door before collapsing from exhaustion. I guess not... She laid there for almost a minute, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Before she passed out, though, a peculiar sound reached her ears.

A single tone echoed throughout the building, soon followed by another, and then a third. Within seconds, a cascade of music filled the air, drawing Heartstrings back to her hooves. Looking around, she found herself in a massive, dimly lit room, filled to the brim with rows of dusty seats. The air smelled of mold and mildew, and the floor audibly creaked as she walked down the carpeted aisle, heading towards the sole source of light in the room outside of sunlight drifting through scattered holes in the ceiling: a small lantern placed on the stage at the far end of the room. It wasn't the light she was interested in, though. It was the creature next to it. It was a griffin, something she had only heard of in the stories her mother would tell her before bed. In one of its claws, it held golden horseshoe shaped instrument covered in strings, which it plucked with the other hand faster than her eyes could follow, creating the song that filled the room. Taking a seat in the non-existent audience, Heartstrings simply watched and listened.

One song seamlessly blended into another as Heartstrings observed, the pure energy and excitement of the music washing her exhaustion away, replacing it with new feelings and emotions the changed with the song. She never wanted it to end. The music eventually slowed, though, smoothly sliding to a stop as the final note rang throughout the theater. Without saying a word, the griffin set his instrument on a small stand on the ground, stood up, and walked off stage, leaving a stunned Heartstrings where she sat. The music had ended, but her mind continued it, echoing the songs in her head. Eventually, a particular series of notes dominated the others in her mind. She couldn't even remember where in the songs she had heard them, or even if she had heard them at all. The notes gave her an idea, though. Getting up from her seat, she approached the stage.

This will just take a second. I'm sure he won't mind, the filly told herself as she climbed the small set of stairs leading onto the stage and walked over to the instrument that the griffin had left behind. Staring at her hooves, Heartstrings realized that she wouldn't be able to play the same way the griffin had, and magic was out of the question as well. Eventually, she simply decided to leave the instrument in the stand, and pluck a string with her horn. A simple tone rang out from the string, and the unicorn smiled.

Trying each string one at a time, she learned what string made which sound, preparing herself for the next step. She recalled the notes she had been hearing in her head, and clumsily plucked the strings to try and play them. The rhythm was a mess, and she often plucked the wrong string, but she didn't care. After a few tries, Hearstrings finally managed to play the notes she had heard in her mind, followed by a small addition she created on the spot. It was slow going, and her neck began to ache by the end, but when she finished, the feeling of accomplishment that filled her was like nothing she had ever felt before. "Yes!" the filly shouted, hopping a short distance into the air in celebration.

"Enjoying yourself?" a voice asked from just offstage, causing Hearstrings to freeze where she stood. The griffin walked back onto the stage, staring down the filly with his cold, amber eyes.

The filly said nothing.

"I was once taught that inspiration is the key to unlocking our true potential," the griffin continued. "Fate seems to have a funny habit of reminding me when I forget," he said, finally breaking out into a smile. "I can see that it has worked for you, at least" His gaze shifted to the left slightly, and Heartstrings followed it, discovering that he was looking at the image of his own instrument that now decorated her previously blank flank. "I came here to reminisce and relive the past, but an old fool like me has no business being nostalgic. You're the only one to accomplish anything here today." He chuckled. "My name is Cambiare, yours?"

"I'm... I'm..." Heartstrings began, only for her exhaustion to suddenly come rushing back. She wobbled where she stood for a moment before collapsing on the stage and finally slipping into unconsciousness.

The Present Day...

Gilda hated trains. Well, as far as Lyra could tell, Gilda hated most things, but it was pretty obvious that she especially hated trains. Fortunately, The Friendship Express's overnight accommodations for a trip to Manehattan were far better than those for a shorter trip. Instead of being stuck in a normal passenger car filled with other ponies, they had been given a room in the sleeper car, which contained four bunks, two on each side, a simple bench seat, and a large window. Unfortunately, none of this seemed to do anything to placate Gilda, who alternated between pacing uneasily up and down the small space between the beds and staring out the window.

"So, wanna talk about something?" Lyra asked from her bunk, attempting to strike up a conversation. "If we're traveling buddies, then we should get to know each other a bit."

"No."

"How about we play a game, then? I'm great at Twenty Questions!"

"No."

"You're supposed to wait until I ask a question before answering, you know," Lyra said with a smile.

"I am not playing your stupid game!" Gilda snapped, stomping over to the door and flinging it open. "I'm going for a walk." Slamming the door behind her, she walked out of sight and down the hall, headed towards the dining car.

Wow, she really can't take a joke, can she? I guess I'll just have to get used to her being grumpy... Sighing, Lyra opened up one of her bags at the foot of her bunk and drew out her lyre. I guess I'll just kick back and wait for her to cool down, then. She barely managed to play three notes, though, before a combination of guilt and curiosity got the better of her. I should really make sure she's okay...

Exiting the room, Lyra trotted in the direction she had seen Gilda go, cringing at the combined sound of the train and wind as she passed through the connecting section between their car and the next. Entering the dining car, she found it to be surprisingly busy. The booths that lined either side of the car were full of ponies eating and chatting amongst themselves. It didn't take long for her to determine that the griffin hadn't stopped here, since she was nowhere to be seen, and a griffin among ponies is obvious enough to draw all sorts of attention. As she moved on towards the far end of the car, Lyra noticed that Gilda had indeed drawn all sorts of attention when she passed, and had become a popular topic of conversation among the ponies there.

"That was a griffin earlier, right? Never seen one of them before..."

"I'm glad it didn't stop here. I heard they eat meat, just like all those creepy animals around the Everfree Forest!"

"I wonder what it's doing here? It has wings, right? Why ride a train?"

"Hey! I have wings!"

"Yeah, but you're traveling with us. Who would want to travel with a griffin?"

Lyra paused as she heard that last question, barely stopping herself from giving the whole group of ponies a piece of her mind. One thing Lyra had learned a long time ago was that griffins and ponies are not designed to get along. It's a matter of instinct. To a pony, a griffin is something big and scary to run away from before it eats them. Likewise, to a griffin, a pony is prey. Of course, common sense and modern sensibilities overcome such things, but it takes a lot more than common sense to completely remove instinct. As mired in prejudice as it was, the question was still valid.

Just what kind of pony keeps the company of griffins?

Lyra didn't have the answer.

"No! Absolutely not!" The voice of her father woke Heartstrings from her slumber as it carried through her bedroom door. She couldn't remember how she had gotten home, only that the last thing she remembered was something about a stage and a song...

"Sir, I assure you that I only have your daughter's best interests in mind, and I guarantee her safety," a familiar voice responded. The filly couldn't quite remember where she had heard it before, though... Rolling out of bed, the filly stumbled over to the door to better hear the discussion on the other side.

"Guarantee her safety? My little filly disappears for hours, only to be brought back home unconscious in the arms of a strange griffin, and you expect me to believe that you can guarantee her safety? Poor Cadance was driven to tears over losing her this afternoon! We were moments away from calling the guards and organizing a search party!"

A griffin? The events of the day began to slowly trickle back to her. Running away from her foalsitter. Using her magic to open the door. Finding the griffin in the abandoned theater... I caused all of this trouble... she thought, a pang of guilt coming with the realization. Opening her door just a crack to peer out, Heartstrings saw the griffin standing before her parents in the hallway.

"Don't blame him, dear. He couldn't have known, " her mother said. "I do agree that this is not the correct course of action, though. What about her schooling?"

"I am fully capable of providing her with the necessary education, as well as experiences far beyond those that the schools here can provide," the griffin answered. "I can show you my credentials, if you'd like."

"Look, I understand that you mean well, and that you feel a degree of responsibility in all of this, but we don't need your help," her father said.

"What do you plan on doing, though?" the griffin asked. "The correct course of action has been laid out clear as day on her flank. Where in Equestria do you expect to find someone else who can teach her? Among ponies, only a unicorn can effectively play a lyre, and traditional griffin instruments aren't exactly popular among unicorn musicians, much less those who could be considered masters."

A lyre... the rest of the filly's memories came flying back. The amazing performance by the griffin. The music she played on the lyre afterwards. Discovering her cutie mark. Fainting... His name is Cambiare... He wants to teach me?

"I... I don't know," her father answered.

"How about we ask your daughter what she thinks of all this, then?" The griffin turned and stared right at the door. "You can come out now." Heartstrings complied, pushing the door open the rest of the way and stepping into the hallway. "Heartstrings, I would be honored if you would be my apprentice."

"I... guess it's up to you, Heartstrings," her father said reluctantly. "Is this really something you want to do?" After a few seconds of silence, the filly smiled.

"Yes."

Lyra found Gilda standing on the small balcony at the end of the final train car, watching the tracks race by below her. They had long since passed the spot where the tracks split to go to Hollow Shades, and the quiet hamlet was just barely visible in the distant valley to their left.

"Figured you'd follow me," Gilda said as she heard Lyra approach. "You seem to be the kind of pony to stick your snout in to everyone's business."

"If my traveling companion's unhappy, that makes it my business," Lyra replied, joining the griffin in staring at the tracks. "Doubly so when it's my fault. I'm sorry I was so pushy back there. You don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to."

"Good, I won't," Gilda said. "If it makes you feel any better, though, it's only mostly your fault."

"Oh?"

"I told you I'm not talking about anything with you, so that's all you're going to get."

"Come on, if it's something specific, then I'll know to avoid it in the future. You'd be doing yourself a favor!" The griffin did not reply, opting to ignore the unicorn instead. She's a lot more relaxed now, Lyra noted. I wonder what's different? It certainly couldn't have been the walk down here, she wondered, remembering the ponies in the dining car. Then it finally clicked. "I've got it! You're claustrophobic, aren't you?" Lyra said with a smile. It all made sense. The pacing and window gazing, coming out here were there weren't any walls...

"W-What? No!" Gilda shouted, getting defensive. "I just don't like the way things are shaped in there, that's all. Everything's all pony-shaped."

"Which just means that everything's too small and cramped for you." The unicorn playfully poked the griffin with a hoof. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid of tight spaces."

"I am not scared of something that... that stupid!" Gilda insisted. "Griffins are never afraid of that which cannot harm them! Watch, I'll prove it so you'll stop bothering me." Turning around, she walked back inside the train car, leaving Lyra alone once again.

Well, she definitely seemed to be afraid of Rainbow Dash this morning, Lyra thought, chuckling to herself. Thinking about it some more, though, she didn't know whether that said more about Gilda or Dash. It raised another question opposite the one from earlier, too. What kind of griffin chooses to live among ponies?

Once again, Lyra didn't have an answer.

Point of No Return

Gilda stood at a crossroads, the path branching in two directions before her. She had been here many times before, and knew the paths well. To the left, the path wandered aimlessly, eventually doubling back upon itself and leading back to where she stood. It was a path she was very familiar with. To the right, the path was short and straight, but she could see exactly what awaited her at the end. It was a cage, built just for her. A cage with no escape. Sighing heavily, she once again began to walk down the path to the left...

Then the train began to screech to a halt.

Gilda groaned and covered her ears with her claws as the piercing sound of the train's brakes tore her from her dreams. She groaned a second time when she remembered where she was, and that she was going to be really sore from sleeping in the cramped, pony-sized bunk. After awkwardly squirming for a while to get her feet into position, the griffin finally managed to climb out of the bunk just as the train lurched to a complete stop.

"About time," Gilda yawned, leaning back as she stretched her legs in a feline manner. "Get your things together, I don't want to spend another minute in this stupid box of a room." Nobody answered. "Hello?" the griffin called, searching the bunks. Her companion was nowhere to be found. That pony ditched me! When get my claws on her, I'll-

"Oh, hey, Gilda! Glad to see you're up!" The door to the room slid open to reveal Lyra, with all of her bags in tow. "I got up early to snag some breakfast before the train stopped, but I thought that you could use the sleep considering how early we started yesterday, and how far you must have traveled."

"Oh, that's fine..." Gilda said, feeling stupid for getting angry. I would have rather eaten breakfast, though. I can't remember the last time I ate three square meals in a day... As if she had read the griffin's mind, Lyra hovered a brown paper bag over to Gilda. "What's this?"

"I figured you'd be hungry, so I saved you some food," the pony replied. "It's not much, just some jam on toast, but it's all I could sneak out of the dining car."

"Uh, thanks," Gilda said, tucking the bag under her wing and eying the unicorn suspiciously. What kind of game is she trying to play here? The entirety of Lyra's behavior confused her, and she continued to ponder the pony's actions as they exited the train and stepped on to the crowded platform. She's got to have some sort of ulterior motive, Gilda concluded. After all, everyone always did.

"Move it, slowpokes!" Gilda pushed her way through the crowd, clearing a path for Lyra's luggage behind her. Most ponies were content to give her as much space as they could, but a few just weren't paying attention. Luckily, it only took a light shove have them come to their senses and scurry out her way. "We're almost out, hurry up!" the griffin called back to Lyra as she picked up the pace.

"What's the big deal?" Lyra asked, speeding up to a swift trot. "We've got plenty of time, no need to rush."

"Maybe not for you. I am done with being cooped up like this!" Gilda replied as the pair finally made it out the front door of the train station. Reveling in the open air, Gilda spread her wings wide and shot straight up into the sky, catching the bag with her breakfast in it with a claw. This was the first time in over a day that she had even been able to stretch her wings, much less actually get off the ground. It's about time I got some room to move around! Finally taking the chance to look at her surroundings, Gilda saw the sprawling Manehattan skyline laid out before her. Skyscrapers, just built in the last few decades, were clustered in the middle of the island the city was build on. The buildings got smaller and older the farther away from the center of the city they went, eventually fading into the districts near the ocean and directly below her, where many touches of old Earth Pony traditions were still visible. Trees lined the old brick roads, and squares were dedicated to simple market booths, not unlike those found in Ponyville. She was by no means alone in the sky, either. Pegasi zipped every which way through the air, some traveling in small groups, some hauling cargo, and some simply enjoying the nice weather like her. Gilda performed a few simple flips, twirls, and barrel rolls, getting her heart pumping and putting a smile on her face.

"Must be great to be up there, huh," Lyra's voice said, seemingly coming from nowhere.

"What?" Gilda whirled around, confirming that there was no one close enough to talk to her without shouting. Looking back down at the ground, she spotted Lyra, who was standing right where she had left her. Griffins had excellent eye sight, just as any bird of prey, and could easily pick out individuals from a crowd at her altitude. Gilda could even make out the individual cutie marks of the ponies if she focused. The most a pony could hope to see of her at that distance is a small, brown dot in the sky. Must have been imagining things...

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you" the voice said, once again startling the griffin. "I'm just using a sound spell to project my voice up to you. It lets me modify the volume and origin point of a sound any way I want. Pretty cool, huh? I usually use it when performing in front of a large audience or when I want to practice without bothering anypony, but it's pretty handy for these kinds of situations."

Handy for you, maybe. Not so much for relaxing in peace... Gilda sighed and rolled her eyes. At least she had the freedom to do that in private.

"Anyway, you can stay up there if you'd like, but stay close." Lyra began to trot down the street. "Our first stop is at the docks to buy tickets for a ship. Then we'll need to find a place to spend the night."

Makes sense, and at least I get to stay off the crowded streets, Gilda thought. Something didn't sit right with her, though, but she pushed it to the back of her mind as she began lazily gliding in circles above her charge, deciding to relax while she had the chance. Opening the paper bag, the griffin drew out her breakfast and began to idly snack on it. Look's like I've got it easy, today. That's... Nice. She wanted to think that it was nice. Great, even. She couldn't. Looking at the food in her claws, she finally began to realize why...

Until today, Manehattan had been nothing but distant memories for Lyra. Memories of busy streets and the scent of salt on the air. Memories of standing backstage in old theaters and watching her Master perform. Memories of looking out at the lights of the city in awe of its life and energy...

"Do you know the difference between an artist and a performer, Heartstrings?" Cambiare had asked her one afternoon before a concert as they walked down one of the city's older streets. She had only been apprenticed to the griffin for a week at this point, and he hadn't even begun to teach her the basics, yet.

"No," the filly answered. "They sound the same to me."

"They do to most people, but there is a difference. It's subtle, but of monumental importance for you to understand." The griffin stopped at an intersection, and gestured to a stallion across the street, surrounded by a small audience of other ponies. He wore a strange outfit and looked to have painted his face white. Heartstrings quickly realized that he was a mime. "Why does that pony do what he does?"

"To get money," Heartstrings answered, noticing the open jar of bits on the ground nearby, ready for ponies to toss a few coins into.

"And how does he make sure that he does?"

"He..." the filly began, only to realize that she really had no idea. She decided to just throw out a guess. "He... makes sure that everypony likes him?"

"Exactly!" Cambiare smiled.

"Really?" Heartstrings asked, astonished that she had been right.

"Indeed. You can see him react to everything that gets a laugh from his audience, and adjusting to deliver it more often. Now, what about that mare over there?" The griffin gestured to the opposite street corner, where a young mare had set up an easel and canvas for painting, and was staring intently at the blank space, brush in mouth. On the ground behind her were several other paintings lines up for sale, though Heartstrings couldn't make out what they were about at this distance. "Why is she painting?"

"Money, again." Heartstrings answered confidently.

"No," the griffin said, catching the filly off guard.

"What? Why?" Heartstrings asked. "She's selling her work, right?"

"She is, but not for the money. It is an easy assumption to make, though, especially since you cannot see all the details I can. I can read the prices on those paintings from here, though, and the most any of them are going for is twenty bits. She must spend hours on those paintings, possibly even days. To sell it all for twenty bits? You'd make more money cleaning tables in a cheap restaurant."

"She's... painting for herself... for her art?" the filly proposed, beginning to understand. "And the mime is performing for the crowd, right? Does that mean that the painter is an artist, and the mime is a performer?"

"Perhaps," Cambiare answered. "In truth, it all comes down to motive, and you can never truly know what someone else is thinking."

"But why are you telling me this if it doesn't matter?"

"Because it is important that you decide what your motives are. Great music comes from true convictions and pure thoughts. I could teach you everything I know, but it would amount to nothing if you never know why you want to make music."

"Then I want to be an artist, right?" Heartstrings asked. "Since performers are in it for the money."

"Really, now?" The griffin raised an eyebrow. "What if I told you that I consider myself a performer?"

"I... um..." the filly stammered.

"A performer works their craft for their audience. While some would use that to exploit their audience, others may choose to benefit their audience. Is a comedian wrong for wanting to make their audience laugh? Is a writer right for choosing to make a story to please their own fantasies with no regard to the reader? I live for sharing the experience of my music with others, and my music is created for that design."

"So... I should be a performer, then?"

"You're missing the point!" Cambiare sighed and shook his head. "There is no right or wrong choice, only what you truly want to do. You may have a lyre on your flank, but you've yet to decide what it really means to you. Why do you want to play it?"

"I... I just want to make music." Heartstrings could think of no other reason.

"Then you have much to learn," The griffin said sternly. After a moment, though, his expression softened, and he gave the filly a pat on the head. "And I guess it's about time that I started to teach."

Eventually, Lyra arrived at the docks, ending her trot down memory lane. As any place in Manehattan, the docks were a busy and crowded place. Dozens of ships tugged on their moorings as they drifted with the ebbing tide, and hundreds of ponies bustled back and forth boarding and disembarking, hauling luggage and cargo. Soon she found herself struggling against the crowd itself, trying to find a travel agency or anywhere else she could buy tickets. She wasn't exactly the tallest of ponies, though, and her usual tactic of hopping to see over a crowd was only effective if she knew what she was looking for in the first place. Luckily, she had another option: her eyes in the sky. Gazing upwards, she soon spotted the familiar brown blot against the blue sky. She focused her magic and again sent her voice to the griffin.

"Hey, Gilda. Sorry to disturb you, but I could use a hoof... er, hand down here." It was a strange sensation, using her projection spell on her own voice. She could feel the vibrations in her throat, and see her muzzle move as she spoke, but to her, she was completely silent. "I need you to come down to where I can talk to you face to face." The blot in the sky paused for a moment, probably to groan with annoyance, before racing towards the ground and coming to a stop just a few feet over the heads of the ponies in the crowd. The ponies scattered in fear for a moment before continuing with their hustle and bustle as if nothing had happened. After all, time is money.

"What is it?" Gilda asked, grumpy as ever.

"I've gotten myself pretty- OOF!" Lyra stumbled as a passing stallion nearly bowled her over, almost dropping her luggage in the process. "Pretty lost here. You can see over the crowd, so do you think you could lead me to somewhere I could get is tickets for a ship? That is, if you're okay with that."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I just need you to point me in the right direction if you can, that's all."

"No, I got that," Gilda said. "It's just... nevermind." Sighing, the griffin began to scan the area around her, soon seeming to spot something in the distance. "That way." Gilda pointed off to Lyra's right, and the mare began to push her way through the crowd. Eventually, the crowd thinned out and Lyra found herself at a large booth with a small line of ponies in front of it. The sign above the booth read:

Trans-Aquastric Travel
The World is Waiting.
Why are You?

"You're the best, Gilda! Thanks!" the mare shouted up to her companion. "Sorry I had to bother you."

"Sure, whatever," the griffin grunted before returning to the sky in a huff.

What's up with her? Lyra wondered, moving to the back of the line. She must be uncomfortable with all of these ponies around. I'll have to do something to minimize that...

"Here we are, Room 307, " Lyra said, sliding a key into the lock of the hotel room door.

"About time." Gilda pushed past the unicorn and moved straight to the bed on the far side of the room, flopping onto it with a loud thud. It had been a long, frustrating day, but now the sun was setting. She was content so long as she got to sleep somewhere comfortable for once, even if it meant sharing a room with the pony again. I'm just going to have to get used to it, she told herself. Better to be annoyed for now than go hungry later.

"So, do ya like it? I made sure to get a room with a balcony, so you can go out there if you need some space or just want to fly." The mare cheerfully trotted over to her own bed to set down her luggage, seeming rather smug about the fact that she had thought of everything. This only continued to irritate the griffin.

"Yes, everything is just fine," Gilda sneered, immediately regretting the sarcasm in her voice. Now I've done it. She's just going to ask me-

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked.

"Nothing," Gilda groaned.

"It doesn't sound like nothing to me."

"Even if it were something, it wouldn't be any of your business." Gilda rolled over to face away from the pony, signalling that the conversation was over. An awkward silence filled the room, and Gilda welcomed it. She wanted nothing more than a quiet night's sleep at this point. Unfortunately, the scratching sound of a quill on paper soon reached her ears, being just barely loud enough to be distracting. After a few minutes of trying to ignore it, Gilda gave up. "What are you doing now?" the griffin asked, rolling back over to face the unicorn.

"Just writing something," Lyra answered, staring intently at the parchment levitating in front of her face as she sat kneeling on her bed.

"Can't it wait until later? I'm trying to sleep over here."

"Oh! I didn't realize it was bothering you, let me take care of that." The light of Lyra's horn flashed briefly, and the sound of the quill ceased. "It can't wait until morning, though. There's no time before we have to catch our ship."

"Why not just write it on the boat?" Gilda could help but ask, much to her own dismay.

"Because, I need to finish this before we leave Equestria." Lyra sighed for a moment and paused her writing. "I... was so excited to finally travel and see my Master again... I just up and left Ponyville without a second thought. I never really took the chance to say goodbye..." She smiled and turned to Gilda before continuing. "Is there anyone you want to say goodbye to? This is the last chance you'll have for a while, since once we get on that ship, there's no turning back."

"I said all of my goodbyes a long time ago."

"But you only found out about this job a little over a day ago!"

"So?"

"Oh..." The smile faded from Lyra's face as she began to understand. "But-"

"Drop it." Gilda interrupted, beginning to feel rather irritated again.

"But I'm just trying to help you!"

"I said drop it!" the griffin shouted back, beginning to raise her voice.

"Why can't you just-"

"What is wrong with you?! " Gilda screamed, silencing the unicorn as she leaped to her feet. She couldn't take it anymore.

"I... What?" Lyra stammered. Gilda didn't know what was worse: that the mare might be playing dumb, or that she might not have any idea what she was doing. Both ideas only made the griffin angrier.

"You've been paying for everything, giving me food, and you've never actually made me do anything this whole time! You're always asking nicely and saying that I don't have to do anything!" Gilda began, striding uncomfortably close to Lyra as she spoke, towering over the unicorn on the bed. "What's worse, you simply won't leave me alone! You keep poking your nose where it doesn't belong in the name of helping me! Do you know what that makes me? Your pet! That's all I am to you at this point! Something cute or exotic for you to drag around by the beak all day because it tickles your stupid pony fancies!"

"I'm... sorry? I was trying to be kind, that's all!" Lyra blurted out, getting defensive.

"Oh, really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you needed the money, so I figured-"

"The money!" Gilda shouted, cutting Lyra off mid-explanation. "So that's it, then. I'm not a pet. I'm a charity case! You feel sorry for me!"

"I'm trying to be your friend!" Lyra countered, causing the griffin to take a step back and fall silent. The unicorn regained a bit of her confidence and smiled. "If you're anywhere near as alone as you seem to be, then-"

"Just. Shut. Up," Gilda interrupted again, this time calm and collected, her rage having given way to cold fury. "You are not my friend, got it? You pity me. You pity me with all of your 'superior' pony kindness, thinking that taking the high ground and simply giving will get you another friend to help inflate your ego!" Gilda walked away from the mare to the opposite side of the room. "I'm here to do a job, and that's what I'll do. That's all I'll do, and no amount of handouts or parties will change it any!"

"Parties? But I never-" Lyra tried to respond, only to receive a piercing glare from the griffin in return. Gilda threw open the sliding door to the balcony and stepped out. Turning around, she shot one last glare at Lyra before slamming the door behind her.

Good riddance. Gilda sighed as the cool night breeze hit her feathers. Finally, I'm all alone... Closing her eyes, she laid down and curled up on the hard floor of the balcony, hoping to get some sleep. Sleep never came.

In the Spirit of Things

"Hey, Gilda," Lyra called from her bunk as she stared out the nearby porthole. "What's it like to fly?"

"We're on an airship. Why don't you tell me?" the griffin replied from her own bed on the opposite side of the cabin. We've barely even left the ground, and already she's asking stupid questions.

"I mean with wings. Soaring through the open skies. Having the freedom to go anywhere." Lyra sighed, obviously lost in her own fantasy.

"It's just something I do. Nothing special about it."

"Oh, I see..." the unicorn said despondently, before snapping back to her normal cheerful demeanor. "I think I'm going to head above deck to get one last look at Manehattan. Wanna come?"

"No."

"Suit yourself, Miss Grumpy Feathers." Lyra trotted out the door, and closed it behind her.

Finally. Gilda sighed. She tried to enjoy what time she could get to herself, but her thoughts kept coming back to her earlier words. Freedom to go anywhere? If you had that, you'd never have left home...

"Gilda!" a deep voice shouted, echoing across the courtyard. The the young griffin lounging on a cloud above payed it no mind, pretending she didn't hear it. "Gilda!" Groaning, she finally answered.

"What do you want, Dad?"

"Gilda, get down here this instant! I will not allow you to shirk your studies any longer!"

"Oh yeah? Then come up here and make me!" Gilda smirked. She knew that he couldn't, even if he wanted to. "I'm just gonna fly for a while. I'll be back when I'm done."

"Do you have to fill your days with such frivolous activities?" Her father asked.

"Flying is my life, Dad. Just because you're missing a few too many feathers doesn't mean you get to say it isn't."

"Alright," her father sighed, and then smiled. "When will you be back?"

"In a few hours. Promise."

"I'll be at the forge when you get back. We'll talk more then. Just stay safe for me, okay?"

"Sure thing. See ya!" Gilda began to take off into the sky, but stopped just after leaving the cloud. "Oh, and Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"Suit yourself, Miss Grumpy Feathers." Lyra trotted out the cabin door, and closed it behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, her smile vanished. Why do I even bother trying? the unicorn asked herself. You know exactly why, a part of her answered. She's the first griffin you've had for company you've had in years, and some things never change...

"Come out for the view, Miss?" a gruff voice asked, startling Lyra from her thoughts. Apparently she was so distracted she hadn't even noticed that she had made it above deck. "Manehattan's got quite the skyline." Turning, Lyra saw that the voice belonged to a rather burly brown Earth Pony standing beside her. "Captain Windfall of the Fortunate Breeze, at your service, Miss."

"Oh, uh, yes actually," the unicorn replied. "Thank you, Mister Windfall." When she had bought tickets for an airship to Stormtalon the day before, she was expecting a passenger liner, but apparently the Fortunate Breeze was primarily a cargo ship, only occasionally selling passage in the odd spare cabin. The crew member that had showed them to their room when they boarded had seemed most displeased to see them there, so having someone, the Captain, no less, be so personable was a great relief.

"I hope my crew here didn't give you and your friend hard time. Some of them have had bad dealings with the Griffins in the past," the stallion explained, "and the fact that we're making a shipment to them has them on edge."

"The one crew member we met just seemed a little annoyed, so it's not a problem." Lyra said. "So, where-" She began, only for a the sound of a ringing bell to cut her off.

"I suggest you hold on to something!" Captain Windfall shouted over the ringing. "We're about to hit The Wingstream!"

"The what?" Lyra asked as the ringing stopped, but before the Captain could answer, the whole ship began to shake, and the sound of howling wind filled her ears. The force of it all would have knocked her off of her hooves if she hadn't used a little bit of magic to anchor herself to the floor.

"Deploy the sails!" Windfall yelled to his crew, who pulled tight on several ropes that were tied to the airships main balloon, unfurling a set of large sails that had been bound to either side of it. With a sudden jerk, the airship, which had merely been gaining altitude up until this point, quickly accelerated to a cruising speed as the wind filled the sails. Then, just as quickly as it began, the shaking and howling ceased. Noting Lyra's confusion, the Captain chuckled. "I take it you've never crossed the ocean before?"

The unicorn simply shook her head.

"The Wingstream is a high-altitude air current that connects the Equestrian and Gryphonic continents," Windfall explained. "It was created as part of a trade agreement years ago, and is maintained by the joint efforts of griffin and pegasi weather teams and powered by the warm waters of the Aquastrian ocean current, created long ago by the sea ponies. Thanks to it, we should be across the ocean in about a day and a half."

"That's great!" Lyra said giving a small, excited hop. I was expecting at least three days to cross the ocean. Now I'll get to see Cambiare by the end of the day tomorrow! Trotting over to the back of the deck, she took one last look over Equestria, as the shoreline faded into the mists behind them. And just like that, Equestria was gone. Goodbye, everyone. I'll come back some day. I promise. Once again, the smile faded from her face.

"Lyra."

"Huh?" Heartstrings asked, confused. "Who's that?"

"You," Cambiare answered. "You did such a good job at your first concert tonight, I think the name Lyra suits you rather well. Think of it as a nickname." The griffin stoked the coals of their campfire with a stick, sending flickering lights dancing through the air.

"Lyra..." Heartstrings whispered the name to herself, still somewhat confused. It did have a nice ring to it, though.... "Um, Maestro?"

"Come now, Lyra, I think we know each other well enough at this point to not have to use such titles when we're alone. Call me Cambiare."

"Okay... Cambiare? What's it like where you come from?"

"Well, the Griffin Empire is a land of magic and wonder," the griffin began, waving a claw in a grandiose manner. "But, of course, so is Equestria, so that's not saying much." He laughed. "Really, it's not all that different at all. The people are just shaped different, and maybe they're a bit more concerned with their own egos than your average pony. Just a little."

"Could I see it someday?" Lyra asked.

"Someday, I'm sure you will," Cambiare answered, smiling warmly. "I think you'd really like it there..."

Why did I have to go and get myself into this? Gilda asked herself for the umpteenth time. And once again, she couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer. Neither Equestria nor the Empire held anything for her anymore. Just hang in there. You'll be set for a long while once this is all over. That will give you tons of time to get yourself together.

Maybe it's time I just start over again. Go find another land where I haven't messed everything up... Before she could finish yet another self-deprecating thought, Gilda was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door.

"Gilda?" Lyra's voice came from the other side. "I'm coming in!" Sure enough, Lyra pushed the door open and stepped inside the cabin. Gilda immediately noticed that she lacked the spring in her step that she usually had. She almost seemed melancholy. The unicorn promptly flopped onto her bunk. "I hope you're feeling better, because I'm sure not."

She wants me to ask why, doesn't she? Gilda thought, annoyed at the obvious bait. Does she really expect me to-

"It's just that... this is it, you know? This is the culmination of all of my dreams. I should feel amazing, right?" Lyra sighed. "Instead, if I feel anything, it's terrified and homesick, and we've barely even left." She looked at Gilda. "What about you? You've barely talked about yourself since we've met. How are you feeling about all this?"

"Well..." Gilda began, deciding to humor the pony. "I feel-" terrified, too, her mind told her, completing the sentence. She paused, surprised to find any common ground with Lyra. "I feel... fine."

"Oh come on," Lyra replied. "You're telling me that you, the antisocial griffin living in Equestria who would never have entertained the thought of returning to her homeland without a reward for doing so, is doing 'fine' when she ends up escorting a pony to the one place she clearly doesn't want to go!"

"You..." Words failed Gilda as she processed everything that the pony said. All of it was true. "You... don't understand."

"Then help me!"

"I am literally no one! Nameless!" There. It was out. And with it, a great weight began to lift from her shoulders. For the first time in years, Gilda allowed herself to cry.

"I think you're ready, Gilda."

"Ready for what, Dad?"

"Ready for your final lesson in the family trade." The elder griffin led Gilda into the back of their home, where the family forge resided. She had watched him shape metal, using his own wings to fan the flames to supernatural heights. Now it was her turn. In his old age, he could no longer use his wings to fan the flames as hot as he used to, and he had lost his ability to fly long ago. His feathers were falling out faster than they could grow back. It was up to Gilda to carry on his legacy. To carry on his name. "Come. Stand in front of the fire, Gilda."

Gilda did as she was told, standing before the forge, its idle heat washing over her.

"This technique is an ancient one. One that has been passed down from generation to generation. By calling upon the power that allows us to shape the weather, we can control the strength of the fire."

"But... how?" Gilda asked. She blown her fair share of clouds around as part of her studies, but she couldn't see how it could relate to this.

"The air, Gilda. We move the air. Trust me, I will guide you."

"Okay..."

"Begin by rearing up onto your hind legs. Use your wings to steady yourself." The young griffin did so. "Now, starting slowly, use your wings to push air into the forge. With each flap, focus on the air, and build the strength of the wind. Focus until the flames are white hot, and do not stop." To her surprise, her efforts seemed to be working, as the wind flowing through the forge grew with each flap of her wings.

"I'm doing it!" Gilda shouted in excitement.

"Yes, excellent!" her father shouted over the roaring wind. The pair worked in tandem. Under her father's instruction, Gilda smelted metals in the forge, altering the temperature of the flames to create the best mix. The heat felt like it would light her fur and feathers afire, but she continued. Eventually, she had completed her task, and the new metal was poured into molds and carefully cooled.

"I'm proud of you, Gilda," her father said with the largest smile Gilda had ever seen.

"I... I did it!" Gilda said, panting. Her wings and hind legs hurt, but she was happy. She did it. And then she saw it. Three wing feathers, falling through the air, burnt black by the fire. Her feathers.

"You truly are worthy of the name Flamewing. Gilda Flamewing."

"No..."

"I'm sorry?"

"No. No no no no no!" Gilda began to panic as she put it all together. "You burnt your wings away! You want me to burn my wings away! To give up flying forever!"

"It's the way things are meant to be, Gilda. I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but-"

"But nothing!" Gilda shouted. "I won't give up flying for this! Not for a stupid name! Not for anything!" And so she turned and ran, ignoring the calls of her father behind her. Taking to the skies, she never stopped.

For a griffin, a name is everything. It's an indicator of their accomplishments, and of their potential, given by an elder who recognizes those accomplishments. A griffin with nothing but their birth name is either a young child, or a pariah. A stain on their family's honor. Gilda could have earned her name, just as her father earned his name, and his father before him, but she didn't. She ran. She ran and ran until she had crossed the ocean itself to get away...