Prince Garibald Talonuel stood patiently at the train station, the gentle and thoughtful gaze of his yellow eyes fixated on the horizon. The pillar of black smoke coming from the train bringing his mother, and the corpse of his father, back home was already visible.
Talonuel was a relatively large griffon, a virtue of being well fed. His diet also had a role in his looks: in a time when everything old traditional was called into question, his countenance alone was a decisive pro-monarchy argument. A dark brown face with a white jaw and neck, and a short black mustache over a long, curved beak gave him a charismatic look, which was enhanced by his light brown plumage and two "crests" of feathers reaching backward. That look was marred by the expression of pure grief that grew more and more visible as the train approached. When it finally stopped with a loud screech, he looked to be on the brink of despair.
From the first of the two carts pulled by the train stepped a reddish griffon with graying feathers: queen dowager Garia Geresa Giovanna of Wingbardy. She donned a simple dark dress, the closest thing to a mourning dress that had been available. Two young servants trailed behind her.
Garibald bowed. The various griffons that had followed him to the station followed his example. It was an act of reverence, and in some instances, shame. Some of the griffons responsible for the late king's security detail were at the station.
Garia nodded back and then spoke. "Rise."
With the formalities out of the way, Talonuel walked to his mother and gently pressed his forehead against hers. "I am sorry, mother," he said with a hoarse voice. His eyes were closed and a few tears rolled down his cheeks.
"It's alright, little Tal," she answered, wiping his tears away. The two stayed like that for a moment, as a mother and a son. When they stood so close, it was obvious Talonuel had received most of his features from queen Garia, except for his colors, which came from his father.
The screeching of an opening door caught their attention. Talonuel watched as a hastily built casket was carried out of the second carriage. He wanted to go there, to see his father one last time, but he could not bring himself to do it. His limbs froze in place and the ache of fear under his ribs almost made him double in pain.
The four griffons carrying the casket looked at Talonuel for orders.
Talonuel cleared his throat to get rid of the hoarseness. "There is a chariot of the clergy outside," he told them. "They will take him to have his last rites."
The group hurried to obey. Talonuel watched them go before he turned back to his mother. He had rehearsed this so many times in his head, but suddenly he was unable to say anything. Unable to comfort his mother.
"Talonuel," she said, trying to bring regality back to her voice. "Please escort us to the palace."
Talonuel understood the meaning of her words. They were both overwhelmed, and she wished to be inside the safety of the palace before the dam broke.
Talonuel stepped to his mother's side and gestured for her to follow. With an escort of soldiers trailing them, they left the enclosed brick building. With the immense size of the train station, it took them a while to get out, even without having to worry about the massive crowds that usually filled the space.
Outside the Gumberto Station awaited a black car. Black veils had been draped over the windows, and while they did not hide the car's occupants from view, they served as an announcement that this was not the time to come to praise the royalty on the streets.
Talonuel opened the car's black passenger door, letting his mother inside. He followed suit, before speaking to his escorts: "Ensure that no-one will bother us for the rest of the day."
The escorts nodded and left for their own vehicles. A pair of guards stood on steps jutting from the sides of the car before they moved out.
Queen Garia coughed at the smell of the exhaust gas, making Talonuel lean closer to her with a worried look on his face.
"Mother," he gasped. "Are you alright."
"No need to worry," she answered. "We have not become weak while we were away. So quit your fretting." The last part was said with a semblance of a smile.
"Of course."
A silence fell in the car, or at least the closest thing to a silence that could be achieved with the horrendous sound of an engine coming from a few meters in front of them. After a few minutes, Garia broke the silence.
"You said that no-one is to bother you? Isn't your schedule filled with meetings?" Her tone made it clear that she wanted an explanation.
"Us," Talonuel corrected her. "No griffon is to bother either of us. Father has just died, and I thought we need a moment of peace."
Garia smiled ruefully and lowered her head. "That was a beautiful gesture, but we can survive on our own. Do not let us distract you from your work."
"I know you can, but..." Talonuel's breath hitched, and a painful pressure grew under his ribs. No. He had to hold the pain in for now. He could let it out in the palace. "...I can't. Mother, I need your help."
Garia nodded and raised her eyes to meet Talonuel's own. "Then we will help you."
"Thank you. I will make this right." Conviction filled Talonuel's voice. He had failed when he had allowed his father to lessen the guard detail. He was not going to fail again.
"We know you will. And we are so proud of you."
Talonuel pulled open the door to his mother's chambers, respectfully stepping aside. With a courteous nod, she stepped inside and pulled off the black veil that covered her face. Talonuel followed suit. Garia was gliding towards the window at the back of the room, her mourning dress trailing on the floor.
It had taken nearly an hour of driving through the city in the rickety and smoky and smelly car, but they had finally reached the palace. Garia and Talonuel had immediately headed for the living quarters. A few courtiers whose appointments had been canceled had tried to approach the pair, only to be turned away by servants or black-uniformed guards.
Sunlight pierced through the thin purple curtains covering the window, casting the room in a dream-like shadow. That shadow was parted when Garia tore the curtains open, gesturing for Talonuel to join her.
He walked over to her side and gazed out to the Palace Gardens below- a fenced-off area many square miles in size, the garden was a small forest inside the bustling city. Birds flew around the tall hardwood trees, chirping merrily.
"Your father loved the gardens," she said, taking in the sight. Gardeners moved about the place, and the children of high ranking courtiers ran rife among the shrubs and hedge mazes.
Talonuel nodded solemnly. "You two taught me to read there." His voice caught at his throat, making his words come out as a pathetic wheeze. His father had insisted on a colonel raising and teaching Talonuel, but Garia had held her ground.
Garia rested her wing on Talonuel's back. Before he had time to react, she had pulled him into a soft embrace, her head pressed against his. Talonuel responded in kind. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
"And I am glad we did."
Sobs wracked Talonuel's body, and he clutched Garia even tighter, like a child holding his plushie.
Garia gently stroked his arm, hushing as he did so. Right now, they were not a queen and a prince, bound by duties and formality, but a mother and son who desperately needed each other. The two shared their grief, taking turns comforting each other.
After what might have been hours, Garia shifted inside the feathery cocoon, signaling for Talonuel to pull away.
"I... I am so sorry," he managed to get out. "I should have been stricter with father. I should have ordered there to be more guards."
Garia cut Talonuel's self-deprecating rant before it had time to begin. "You are not to blame. Only the assassin, and whoever ordered their act is. Even a hundred guards would have been useless, having no right to come to the Imperial Palace with us."
She looked him in the eyes, allowing Talonuel to see she had cried just as much as he had. "My little Talonuel, you promised you would make things right, and I trust you to do so. But you cannot do that if you keep blaming yourself. Do you understand?"
His answer was a nod and gentle smile.
"Good."
The two stood up. A sense of warmth filled Talonuel, dulling the pain. The ache under his ribs weakened, and his muscles relaxed. With each slow breath, the tenseness left his body.
"I do not understand," Ottavia Altana said. The Wingbardian attaché to the imperial court trailed behind the superintendent of the Griffenheim police. Officers moved out of their way as they walked through the hallways of the Central Police Station. "What do you mean the investigation is canceled?"
"It means just that. The regency council has decreed that there is no need for an investigation," the superintendent said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The assassin has disappeared without a trace, and the resources wasted there would be better spent quelling the republican protests."
"Of course," Altana thought grimly. The council had the powers of an emperor, and without a constitution to keep them in check, nothing was stopping them from blocking the investigation.
"My noble prince will be most displeased by the news, and I doubt he will simply drop the matter," Altana warned the officer.
"That will be his decision."
The two had finally reached the entrance. A receptionist's desk stood next to a pair of sturdy wooden doors. Outside, the first drops of a drizzle struck the pavement.
"For what it is worth, I am sorry."
Not much worth then. Rather than say it out loud, Altana answered with a simple thank you. With a sigh, he put on his top hat and stepped out, heading for the nearest telegram office. He would not enjoy this.
Bullseye.
Martin Scheu raised his revolver with a smug grin and dramatically blew away the smoke rising from its barrel. Fifty meters away, the center of his target was perforated with six holes. Behind him, a dozen griffons cheered him on.
"Fuck me," a slightly impressed voice said behind Martin.
The yellow griffon put his gun to its holster and spun around with a dramatic bow. "Aurora, have my marksman skills truly awed you?"
Aurora No-Surname was Martin's immediate superior. She was a pale gray griffon with an orange beak and short limbs.
"Yeah, yeah, they have," she muttered, pulling a cigarette from her creamy waistcoat. She did not sound happy. "Your common sense, on the other hand, has not. We are trying to remain quiet, and you start shooting." She scoffed and lit the cigar. "Do you mean to summon the police on our heads?"
"Please. This is the poorest part of Karthin. Unless a noble is murdered, flatfoots are never going to step in here," Martin dismissed her concerns.
"You are insufferably cocky," Aurora hissed, before turning to the other griffons. "Ah, well, the shipment is coming soon. Get the boats on the water. We'll leave in ten minutes."
The griffons hurried to obey. Before Martin had taken a single step, Aurora painfully grabbed his tail.
"Scheu, you are a useful asset, not an irreplaceable one. You are new, so maybe you haven't understood it yet, so let me explain: if you mess up, I'll tear your throat open. We good?"
"We good," Martin confirmed, definitely not afraid. Definitely.
1st of August, 972
Elio Wingerni stepped around the passed out form of his sister, entering the kitchen of his family's two-room apartment. An empty bottle of cheap alcohol lay next to her. From the floor, he picked up his green waistcoat.
"Morning, ma!" the beige cub called out to his mother. Ella Wingerni, usually weary from her long days of work, turned around with a bright smile.
"Morning," she said, extending her wing for a hug. With a few steps, Elio cut through the cluttered room, slamming into her side and eliciting a pained chuckle. Elio didn't know why she was so happy, but he had decided to enjoy it while it lasted.
"You woke up early."
Elio pulled back. "Elisa snored too loud."
Ella smiled at his antics. She gave his crest of feathers a caring shuffle, before returning her attention to the stove. "Well, breakfast is going to be ready soon. Get yourself ready for school, and then go wake up your sister."
"...and Eyr, oh benevolent lady, grant my family comfort in this time of distress." Talonuel finished the prayer, clutching a rosary in his right talon.
Next to him sat Garia. Her head was held low in prayer, and a black veil was draped over her face. Coincidentally, both had woken up early in the morning and met on their way to the chapel located at the palace gardens. For nearly an hour, the two had prayed under the guidance of an ancient prelate, seeking comfort in the presence of gods. It was rare for the royal family to attend religious services, given their strenuous relationship with the archons. When they did so, it was usually under the guidance of Prelate Sirianni.
Sirianni, standing on the other side of a lavishly decorated altar, gestured for the two to rise. In contrast to the intricate and expensive art that filled his temple, the old griffon only donned simple red robes and a brimless woolen cap.
"Rise, children," he said. His voice was parched and weak, yet it carried authority no mortal, king or otherwise, could contradict. "Although a tragedy has befallen us, we can always trust the heavens to offer us guidance. Should you find your hearts burdened by anything, you can always come to me."
"Thank you, father," the two royals answered with a bow. To Talonuel's mild surprise, his mother continued. "If I may, I would like to remain a little longer by the icons."
"But of course! You are permitted to stay as long as you want to," the prelate answered.
Of course. With most of her responsibilities now gone, the queen could spend more time in the chapel. Talonuel envied her for that. He needed guidance as much as her, but his duty called. He apologized and rose to take his leave.
Garia nodded in understanding and leaned in to embrace Talonuel. The two briefly held their foreheads together. Pulling away, Talonuel bowed to his mother and the priest, before turning towards the door. The second he was out of the chapel, its pious and silent atmosphere was replaced with the chirping of birds and the distant sounds of a city waking up.
He slowly walked through the garden, allowing the morning mist to caress his feathers. Exotic birds flew from branch to branch, singing without a care in the world. In the bushes and trees that lined the gravel road, small critters moved about.
As he approached the garden-side entrance to the palace, where the stone path turned to pavement, a griffon a few years senior to Talonuel stood waiting. Dressed in a black suit, he bowed.
"Your majesty. I thought I would find you here." August was Talonuel's aide, had been ever since his teenage years. Unfortunately, the two had grown distant in recent years.
"I assume you have something important?"
"Yes," the owl-faced griffon answered, pulling a folded paper from his breast pocket. "An urgent telegram from Griffenheim. Its contents are not good."
With a nod, Talonuel accepted the paper. He scanned the paper, eyes narrowing in disgust. "...allocate resources to deal with threats of high priority," he muttered the excuse for not investigating the murder out loud. Talonuel handed the slip back and lowered his talon to the ground.
"This is a travesty." He eventually said, blood boiling. He felt filled by energy born of anger that was ready to explode. His claws dug to the
"Damn it!" Talonuel spat. Immediately recovering his polite tone he asked: "How many know?"
"Only the prime minister has been informed. But with the rumor mill being what it is, tomorrow everyone in the government will know. Speaking of," August continued. "You have a meeting with her, do you not?"
"I do," Talonuel Answered, a hint of scorn making its way to his voice. "No doubt that she will bring this up as well."
His father had appointed Rosa Pia as the prime minister, a place well deserved at the time. However, during a trip to New Mareland, she had fallen in love with its Harmonic Democracy, a position the royal family could not tolerate. Unfortunately, she had too much political clout to be simply removed. Therefore she had remained a thorn in the family's side.
August tilted his head, and with some hesitation, said. "Likely yes. But... Garibald, I know you do not trust her, so I ask you to trust me. She is intelligent, and you should not underestimate her advice."
"Maybe so," Talonuel said, marching past his aide. He had work to do. As the brown griffon entered the palace, doubt started to worm into his mind. Maybe he would listen to Lady Pia, out of respect for August's wisdom.
Elio dashed through the Old Harbor district of Karthin with spring in his step. The beige cub could not remember when he had last been so happy.
Running through the alley between two warehouses, Elio jumped against the red brick wall, and from there forward. With a leap that was - in the mind of a child - impressive, he emerged to an abandoned dockyard. Spreading his wings, Elio did a barrel roll, gleefully laughing all the way.
It was not a good idea. While Elio managed to catch his felt cap with his tail, his saddlebags emptied their contents on the pavement. Hissing with annoyance, Elio landed and began picking up his stuff. Luckily the place was abandoned, meaning no-one was there to see his embarrassing failure.
That was why there was an angry group of griffons some fifty meters away. To make matters worse, one of them had taken notice.
"Kid, what the hell are you doing here?" A pale gray griffon shouted.
"Going to school," Elio answered, putting his last schoolbook in the bag.
"Through the Old Harbor?"
"Yes, its a shortcut, you know?" Elio wanted to leave but did not dare to until it was clear the group had nothing more to say to him.
"Well, go get a different shortcut. Shoo."
The angry tone snapped Elio out of his stupor. He did not like being told what to do. He responded with one of the nastier things he had learned from his sister before disappearing back into the alley he had come from.
He would be late for school unless he hurried.
Martin watched the cub disappear. He then turned to Aurora, worry hidden under an amused smirk.
"I am surprised. Not a single death threat."
Aurora scowled, clearly worried about the child returning. "I have plenty for you unless you stop joking. We took way too long last night. Had that kid come ten minutes earlier, we would have been caught red-handed with the cargo. Kids are such tattletales that we would be screwed."
"Whatever you say, boss," Martin answered, doubtful that a child could cause so much damage. Besides, he could easily silence them.
"The death of your father cannot go unanswered!"
Talonuel rose from his seat and walked over to the window making up the back wall of his office, a gaggle of ministers and advisors following in his wake. Unfortunately, Lady Pia had brought the entire government with her, regardless of their importance to the discussion. Talonuel could have handled her alone, but now he was pressed from all sides.
They had all been aware of Gumberto's murder and had vocally expressed their displeasure at the empire following the act. But he had been forced to tell them that there would be no investigation. Even the most level-headed griffs were frothing.
"And what would you have me do?" Talonuel asked the griffon who had spoken, the gaze of his golden eyes at the gardens of the Royal Palace.
"Raise an army and march north. We demand justice."
Talonuel spun around, the group wincing at the sight of his black, white-rimmed face contorting with anger.
"Demand?" he asked, walking around his table and over to the group. "You do not make demands viscount. And you certainly will not demand war against our lords."
Viscount Chiodo, a graying, monocle-wearing griffon retreated under the king's glare. The minister of defense had earned his position through Gumberto's favor, making his bushy mustache his sole qualification.
"Our 'lords' have to answer for the death of his majesty!" the viscount argued. "I know damn well they are guilty."
"Maybe Viscount would like to present his evidence to the rest of us," Talonuel bit back.
"Your Majesty, Viscount. Regardless of who is right, something must be done," Pia spoke. She had remained quiet for most of the time, letting her allies work on the king.
"The Imperial court will see this as a sign of weakness. If we permit them to drop the matter, who knows what they'll do next."
"I am acutely aware of this," Talonuel answered, regal tone hiding his anger. "Do you believe I want to forgive everything?"
When none of his advisors spoke, he continued. "I will make sure justice happens, but that will have to wait. For now, we must keep the kingdom steady."
It was an empty statement meant to calm his ministers. Some of the griffons seemed uncertain before Lady Pia stepped up, bowing as she spoke: "Of course, your majesty."
"Return to your duties," Talonuel ordered, returning to his seat and pulling out a stack of papers. "Except... Pia, Chiodo; stay here.
One by one, the ministers filed out of the room. Once the last one had closed the door, Talonuel sighed. "Lord Chiodo, what is the state of the Royal Army? Numbers and equipment."
Gervasio Chiodo, Wingbardy's minister of defense, an old brown griffon with a bushy befitting his position, cleared his throat and spoke: "Three hundred thousand griffins, equipped with uniforms befitting their station, and the finest weapons the kingdom has."
Talonuel raised an eyebrow. When Chiodo continued staring blankly at him, he elaborated: "and what does that mean? Do you know, minister?"
The silence condemned his dignity, his answer even more. "They are sufficient."
"For hunting bandits? Our army, minister of defense, is outdated by a decade. Our artillery uses black powder, and our uniforms are only useful in ceremonies."
Once he deemed Chiodo to have suffered enough, Talonuel dismissed the useless minister. "I am sorry about that," he said to Pia, who waved it off. "The truth of the matter is that our army cannot enforce our politics at the moment. More discretion is required."
"I understand," Pia nodded. "Is this why you wanted me to remain?"
"Only partially..." The prince breathed slowly, looking down at the table as if to examine the woodwork. For a brief moment, uncertainty took him, but he expelled it with a shake of his head. "Lady Pia, what is the government's opinion of me?"
"Largely neutral. You are an unknown, your highness, and most don't know what to think... But the murder in Griffenheim has garnered you many sympathizers for the time being. It is a strong position. I recommend you take a page from your father's book and exploit it."
Talonuel paused. She was right. Had his grandfather died, Gumberto would have pounced. Talonuel had every intention of being like his father.
"In two hours, the whole world will hear that the investigation was cut short. The outrage will only grow. If you were to try, how long could you stoke the flames? If I were to head north and kick gears into motion, how far would the government back me up?" Talonuel prodded, a new idea forming in his mind.
Pia's poker face morphed into a knowing smile. "For a month, I could make them follow you to the edge of the world. If you give me the force and credibility of Reichstag, the whole nation will stand with you."
"In that case, I believe it is time for the Reichstag of Wingbardy to convene."
King Gumberto descended the marble staircase with a regal smile on his face.
Finally, after a ball that lasted for days, he was able to leave the Imperial Palace of Griffenheim behind. It was a marvel of architecture that was unfortunately inhabited by some of the vilest griffons the world knew.
Although the young emperor, Grover V, was tolerable enough, the same could not be said for the regency council that controlled the Empire. As far as Gumberto was concerned, they were a bunch of backstabbing cowards who did not care who was caught in the crossfire.
"Care to tell us what happened on your end?" a voice came from next to Gumberto. He looked over at his wife Garia, a red griffon with long and sharp features. Beams of moonlight peeking through the cloud cover danced on her face in a dazzling display.
"The usual," he said, shaking his head in an amused fashion. "The nobles made some outrageous demands, reminded us that we are their vassals, and so forth. One even implied the Empire should nationalize the southern industry."
The Kingdom of Wingbardy was technically a vassal of the Griffonian Empire, but as the most powerful kingdom in the southern half of the empire, it had a significant amount of autonomy, a fact that infuriated the northern nobles to no end.
"We would like to see them try," Garia laughed. It was a beautiful sound that made Gumberto's heart leap with joy. "Demands and demands. When will the empire understand Wingbardy is their equal? Griffonstone's disasters are nothing compared to the one called collective imperial stupidity."
Gumberto suppressed a smile. Their talk was a dangerous one. Even with their combined political influence backing them up, they were still talking about sedition while deep inside their rivals' territory.
"When indeed," he spoke. The pair had reached the bottom of the staircase and were now headed for the gate. Outside the courtyard, their open-air coach was waiting. A pair of guards saluted them as they passed through the gates.
It was night, and the streets were almost empty, except for a few late-night stragglers visible here and there. Most of them stuck to the circles of light provided by rows of street lamps.
The pair reached the coach and rose in. Gumberto was about to give orders to the griffons pulling the coach when he saw a figure moving in a dark alley, some twenty meters away.
The figure shouldn't have been anything notable, but its determined stride made alarm bells go off in Gumberto's head.
The figure stopped and raised its talon.
"Down!"
Gumberto shoved Garia to the floor of the coach as the first shot rang out. The bullet tore a hole in the carriage's wooden wall. A second shot followed. Burning pain exploded in his stomach. Gumberto yelled in agony, and two more bullets slammed into his chest before he had fallen to the floor.
Gumberto felt the distant sensation of Garia's talons on his face. It was alright. He would make it through, he reassured. When dear Garia didn't react, he tried again. Nothing. His beak didn't work. He feebly tried to reach for her face. It was alright. Everything was going to be alright.