CHAPTER 2: VALHÖLL & THE SCHEMING OF GODS

CHAPTER 2: VALHÖLL & THE SCHEMING OF GODS

The entire city of Talos Bao'Dur stood along the coastline as thunder rumbled across the valley. Pyres atop lighthouses around the city walls were ablaze, spires of black smoke curving into the clouds. Not only were there griffons, but there were ponies and a surprising amount of minotaurs within the massive crowd.

Far out into the bay was a lone longship.

Gilda stood alongside the other kingsguard at the edge of the water, the bottoms of their cloaks damp from the tide. They had their hoods up over their helmets to shield them from the rain. Most other citizens were dressed the same, most of them also wearing masks of various designs and types to conceal their faces.

Except for those damned ponies.

Gilda's eyes widened slightly at the stray thought that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, clenching her eyes shut to dispel it. This was not their fault, Gilda. Let your rivalries go, at least for the time being.

She looked to the small chick standing next to her. Alex grasped a bow in his tiny claws, his father's to be exact, his face flushed and eyes puffy, stuck in a thousand-yard stare toward the longship. One of the kingsguard was knelt down behind him, one claw stroking the child's arm to comfort him, the other gripped tightly on his krókspjót, albeit located much lower on the spear's shaft due to him kneeling down. Gilda glanced at him, and the kingsguard gave her a grim look behind his helmet.

A piercing whistle sounded through the air. Gilda and a thousand others looked up, and saw a single flaming arrow arcing through the cloudy skies. It began to descend on the longship, Gilda's breath catching as the flame seemed to die out as it got closer to the ship. Suddenly, a small flame lit on the edge of the sail, which quickly grew into a large fire that spread to the deck of the ship. Gilda silently exhaled in relief. A misfire would have ruined the entire moment.

This was all her fault. What?! No it wasn't! They'll think I murdered him, they'll find some way to blame me for this and I'll be executed. Why would they do that? Think about it, his most trusted servant, the enemy would expect them to expect she was innocent. What enemy?! Stop. Stop thinking about this, Gilda. He died because of her and now his chicks were orphans no get a hold of yourself Gilda stop thinking about it Gilda are you alright.

She jumped -- that last part wasn't her.

Turning to the voice, she was met with the chest of a minotaur. Looking up, she gasped when she saw the pectoral muscles belonged to none other than

"Iron Will? What are you doing here?" Gilda asked breathlessly, keeping her voice as quiet as possible in respect. Although the fact she was talking in general made that last part inferior.

"I have come to mourn the loss of my king, Gilda. As have you; as have all of us."

"Right... stupid question," she said, blushing beneath her helm.

"There is no such thing," added Iron Will quickly, staring out at the longship. Only the flaming dragons head on the bow of the ship was visible, the rest sank into the icy waters of Brunhildar Bay. Shortly afterwards the entirety of the ship was gone, King Rhosus II buried beneath the waters of his home.

The sight of the burial suddenly gave Gilda a massive wave of courage, "Cattle die, kinsmen die; the self must also die!" she yelled, feeling a hundred eyes on the back of her skull, including Iron Will's who gave her a confused look, "I know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead griff! Those were the wise words of Pride, the Allfather," A few voices around her barked and howled in cheer.

"King Rhosus Ironclaw II was one of my dearest friends, as he was to all of us!" Gilda turned around to face the entire city behind her, taking a few steps back as she spoke until she was knee-deep in icy seawater, "Let us remember this day not as a time of darkness, but in glorious memory of a great warrior beginning his journey to Valhöll!" This received a much more uproarious reaction from the crowd, hundreds of griffons and minotaurs began to cheer.

"Pride himself quakes in fear at each step our king is taking as I speak to you! I have lived half my life alongside the King, and I can tell you for a fact that the Æsir do not know who is coming for them! I say we do the same as our king! I say we march to the nearest bar, and get absolutely hammered in memorial of our fallen king, who would have wanted us to do just that! For the King!"

Unsurprisingly, this gained an uproarious reaction from the crowd, all of them chanting For the King! Gilda knew the citizens in the back had no idea why they were cheering, but knowing the griffons who lived in the capital, they'd tell them something along the lines of 'free booze!' and they wouldn't care how good her speech was. Maybe she should have mentioned they had to pay. Also, the chicks couldn't come, but everyone probably already knew that.

A few minutes had passed and the crowd began to disperse, flooding through gates around the city walls that lined the coast, until only a large handful of citizens remained, Iron Will and the kingsguard were still there, however. Gilda shivered slightly as she quickly jogged out of the water, now realizing she couldn't feel her legs. Iron Will untied his cloak and draped it over her.

She looked at him for a few moments, the coastal winds making his mane whip around, before charging forward and giving him a hug, "Where have you been, big dude?! I missed you!"

Iron Will was surprised by her sudden show of affection, but gladly returned the hug, "'Big Dude?'" he asked incredulously.

Gilda's eyes widened and she blushed, breaking apart the hug, "Eheh... sorry. Old habits die hard."

Iron Will waved his hand, "Think nothing of it. I am glad to see you as well, Gilda; although I wish we had met under better circumstances," he said, taking a small glance at the bay.

The group stood in silence.

Iron Will cleared his throat, "So, are we going to stand here and freeze or are we going to, as you so eloquently put it, 'get hammered?'"

Gilda blushed again, but she still let out a laugh, "Absolutely."

"To the King!"

"To my father!"

The group cheered as they clinked their tankards together, before rearing their heads back and drinking deep of the sweet nectar. Despite the freezing weather, the ale kept their bellies warm as the cloaks kept their bodies warm.

Gilda, Cassandra, Iron Will and a few kingsguard stood not in a bar, but in the tent-city that was the market district of Talos Bao'Dur. Dozens of groups all drank and sang and celebrated. If they weren't celebrating the memory of the fallen king, they were thinking of things to celebrate so they could keep drinking. This winter wasn't as bad as the others. At least he died peacefully in his sleep. Things like that.

Gilda exhaled sharply as she removed the mug from her face, wiping ale from her beak. The clattering of armor drew her attention to a kingsguard walking behind her. She waved him over, "Soldier!"

The guard stopped, resting his spear on his cheek before walking over to her. Gilda noticed this was the same kingsguard that was comforting Alex on the beach. He looked... different.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Ragnar, m'lady."

"I don't remember you wearing green when we were on the beach," said Gilda, looking at him from behind his mask. She now realized that the grim look he gave her wasn't a one-time thing, that was just how he looked.

"Did a bit of shopping," said the guard, slowly blinking as he spoke. From his eyes one would be easily forgiven for thinking he had gone a thousand years without a nap -- the poor griffon looked like a zombie.

"You look like a frog," said Cassandra, peeking around Gilda to look at the kingsguard.

"Better than an eggplant," he responded in surprisingly cheery voice, despite a large frown on his beak being visible beneath the chainmail of his helmet. He stared blankly in the general direction of Cassie before turning and walking away, holding his spear close to his face.

"Care to join us for a few rounds?" asked Iron Will, holding his mug up to his head.

Ragnar stopped, glancing behind him until his eyes were locked with Iron's, "No." He turned to walk away, but stopped himself and looked back at Iron Will, "But thank you for the offer, m'lord." And with that, he left.

After a short pause, one of the kingsguard spoke up, "A strange bird, that one."

Gilda looked at him, before watching Ragnar as he turned the corner, "A wise griff's heart is seldom cheerful. I suspect we will be seeing more of him in time."

There was silence.

"To Ragnar!" yelled one of the kingsguard, raising his mug and shattering the silence, much to the group's relief. They joined in the toast, happy to have found a reason to continue wasting themselves.

Four hours later

Gilda, thankfully, was only slightly buzzed. She had made sure that the drink she ordered in the marketplace lasted as long as it could. She couldn't say the same for some of the soldiers under her command, however.

"Another!" squawked a kingsguard sitting at a counter, his face beet-red from all the ale he was drowning himself in. At this rate he'd end up dying of alchohol poisoning -- Gilda bet Rhosus would get a kick out of that when he saw the kingsguard in Valhöll.

The Rosy Apple was the largest tavern in Talos, and that also made it the most popular one, especially at a time like this. One could easily tell just how much griffons loved their ale, as this 'tavern' was three stories tall. Plenty of drunken citizens have fallen from the balconies that wrapped around the open space leading to a skylight, which was tilted at an angle, letting the cold air in but stopping the snow from piling up and shattering the window. Besides, they always had the firepits and their ale to keep them warm.

The ponies called it 'The Worst Wonder of The World.' The griffons called it home.

To Gilda's relief, Cassandra, Iron Will and most of the kingsguard in her group went light on the drinks, too. Ragnar was there, but he wasn't drinking. He still had his helmet on and his spear close to his body, but his relaxed stance showed he wasn't going to use it unless he had to.

Let's hope he doesn't have to.

Gilda took a deep breath, and then leapt on top of an empty table directly beneath the skylight. "Everyone, listen to my words!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. The citizens who recognized her from the beach immediately dropped their drinks and turned to her, eager for her to speak. Iron Will and the others were stood in a dark corner, watching Gilda as she gave her speech.

"It is a sad time, but we have made the most of it! Despite such a massive loss, we are staying strong. We are not mourning, but we are celebrating Rhosus' memory! But we have all had our drinks, some of us a few more than we should have..." That elected a few laughs from the crowd, Gilda taking a glance at the kingsguard from a few minutes ago passed out on the floor. "...But now we must look at ourselves. There is certainly something wrong here."

The citizens shared confused looks with one another, especially the ponies, "No more do we have the glorious, dragon-headed longships our ancestors raided the coastlines with. The only ships entering our waters are Equestrian galleons. Some of them bring goods, but have any of you noticed the ones that don't? The ones that sit at the throat of Brunhildar Bay and wait? Have you noticed the dark figures on the corners of streets and hidden in alleyways, watching us and judging us? Have you noticed how many citizens have been going missing ever since the princesses put their so-called 'Peacekeepers' in our cities?"

"That's horseapples!" shouted a snow-pony in the audience, before being shouted down by -- surprisingly -- Ragnar. A few ponies and griffons got up to leave.

Despite this, Gilda continued her surprisingly controversial speech, "Our citizens no longer say 'going to sleep,' rather they use the equine term 'hitting the hay.' We've gotten rid of the term 'swearing like a griffon,' now when someone annoys us, we don't give a flying feather! Do you see a pattern yet?"

A few griffons shouted in agreement, others nodding at each other and turning back to Gilda. More ponies got up and left.

"This isn't Griffonia anymore, oh no; Griffonia died long ago when our ancestors signed the Equestrian's peace treaty. Our once proud race has been reduced to pacifists just like the ponies!"

This got the ponies riled up, they shot up out of their chairs, shouting obscenities at Gilda, some griffons even joining them. But the patrons who were with Gilda outnumbered them greatly, and with their combined shouts for the ponies to shut up, the mead hall got quiet again. Especially when they too got up to leave. It had no affect on the amount of patrons, however, as it was still packed even with the ponies' absence.

"Think about it, we once had the most superior militaristic force on Mundus! The very earth quaked in fear at us! But now? The only thing close enough to an army is the kingsguard! 'You don't need one!' cry the Henosians, 'we will protect you like the allies we are!' Bollocks. Absolute bollocks." Gilda didn't even realize how angry she was getting, her speeches truly did rise emotions in everyone, herself included.

"I say, no more! I say it is time that we reclaim our birthright as warriors! I say we unite, as one, against the common enemy!" Gilda roared, unsheathing her sword and pointing it into the air, "I say we cut ourselves free of our strings the equestrians dangle us by! We are not their slaves, we are griffons! And by Pride, it's time we start acting like griffons! For the King!" With that, the mead hall erupted in cheering and applause.

The perfect time for a lone pony in a dark grey robe to slip out into the streets.

Somewhere else...

Ethereal whispers filled the misty, blue-black chamber as a lone, white alicorn gracefully walked through the void. She stopped suddenly and sat on her haunches, looking around as shadows began to appear. On top of her head was a large golden tiara with an amethyst in the center. Around her neck was a thick necklace, and regal slippers around her hooves which were of the same color. Emblazened on her flank was an image of the sun.

Next to her walked up two other alicorns, the left one dark blue and shorter than she was. Her mane and tail were made of stars, blending into the atmosphere of the chamber. She wore similar attire to her sister, albeit a very dark purple that complimented her already dark colors. On her flank was a crescent moon in the center of pitch-black splotches.

The one on the right of her was even shorter, as tall as a regular mare. Her coat was a lavender color, and her straight mane and tail were made up of stripes of various shades of purple, with a line of a strikingly bright purple through both. Her jewelry was the same in general style of the sun-alicorn's, but on top of her tiara was a pink six-pointed star, identical to the one on her flank.

"It has been one week," said the white alicorn, her voice regal and calm, almost motherly, "One week since the death of King Rhosus II of the Griffon Kingdom."

Another white alicorn walked into sight, her mane and tail curly blonde instead of the rainbow of pastels belonging to the sun-alicorn. A green cloak trimmed with cream-colored fur was draped over her back, a wreathed crown on her head and a rainbow on her flank. Her icy blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, and a long teal gorget armored the length of her neck.

Next up was a mare only slightly taller than the lavender alicorn with a pink coat and a tiara-less mane of dark blue, both it and her tail cut to an almost tomboyish shortness. At first glance it appeared she only had wings as apposed to the others who had both wings and a horn, but a quick flip of her hair revealed the pink stump of a horn. No doubt it was lost in a battle, because she was the most heavily armored of the alicorns.

Jagged iron made up the armor along most of her back and flank, accented by a bronze gorget that fully enclosed her neck. On her hooves were dark-iron slippers similar to the ones the others had, but the ones in the front had two sharp blades which swiveled down to be used as claws. Fleurs-de-lis were emblazoned on parts of her armor, and lightning bolts that matched the color of her mane could barely be seen beneath her flank armor.

She was accompanied by a mare as tall as the sun-alicorn, her coat the same exact color, as was the jewelry she wore, albeit with silver fluers-de-lis emblazoned front and center on each, and instead of an amethyst her crown had a clear, blue, teardrop shaped gem that was made to look like part of the fluer-de-lis. Her straight, sparkling scarlet mane covered half her face, leaving only one teal eye visible. On her flank was an inkwell full of a dark-red liquid.

The last alicorn approached by herself and filled an empty gap between the others. She was as tall as the moon-alicorn, but her coat was the same white as most of the others. Her hair, similar to the moon and sun alicorns, waved gently in a nonexistent air, and having the appearance of a cold blue nebula. Her eyes looked crystalline, their purple irises somehow shaped like hexagons -- even the light that reflected off of them were shaped like hexagons as well. The mark on her flank was a simple cluster of blue stars. She was easily one of the more modest alicorns, her jewelry made of simple gold in a generic shape, with the tiniest tiara of the other alicorns rested atop her horn.

"Princess Iridia," stated the moon-alicorn, her voice deep and nigh-monotonous, demanding authority, "How are the griffons taking this loss?"

The blonde alicorn looked at her, "They are taking it surpisingly well, Princess Luna. Rather than hide in their homes and mourn, they are out in the streets of their capital celebrating and drinking."

"Must not've been very popular," interruped the pink alicorn, a slight Manehattan twang in her voice.

"Quite the opposite, in fact," stated Iridia, a smile visible on her face, "They drink and sing in memorial of their fallen king, celebrating his journey to Valhöll, their idea of the afterlife."

"They say one can only go there if they were a great warrior. If they killed enough ponies in their lifetime," said the nebula-maned alicorn. Her condescending voice was flanged with a whispering echo that stalked every word she uttered, "Barbarians, all of them."

"Enough, Galaxia," snapped the sun-alicorn, causing Galaxia to look away with anger scrunched on her face. She turned back to Iridia, "Do they suspect anything about his death?"

Iridia sighed, her eyes darting in front of her as if she was digesting the words in her head, "No, they still believe he died peacefully in his bed. And thankfully, they burned the body before they could see his wounds."

The lavender alicorn looked shocked, turning to the sun princess, "Princess Celestia... you didn't have the griffon king assassinated, did you?"

Celestia lowered her head and closed her eyes, "Unfortunately, Twilight, I did." Before Twilight could retort, she continued, "But I did it for the good of Equestria, and all of Mundus. The king was planning to exile Iridia's snow-ponies and turn Griffonia into a purely-griffon nation."

"We were afraid of them building up an army to attack Iridia and her kingdom in Henosia," said the red-maned alicorn Princess Rosetta, "The griffons have always despised our magic and the way we, as they put it, 'raped nature.' If they went back to their warlike ways, their military strength could allow them to conquer not only the Ponylands, but the entire globe."

Iridia interrupted, "You didn't let me finish. His children have begun to rally the citizens, saying they deserve to reclaim their birthright as warriors. It seems he passed down his ignorance and hatred to his heirs."

"Then we'll just send more assassins," said Princess Stella, the hornless princess.

"If we do that," said Luna, "then we would simply be sending my thestrals to their deaths. His children are not like their elderly father -- they are young and still have warriors blood in their veins. And on top of this, it would be far too difficult to coax them into an area way from prying eyes with the celebrations and chaos going on."

Princess Galaxia spoke, "Why not use the chaos to their advantage? They'll sleep like rocks with all the drinking they've been doing, we can just slit their throats while they sleep." Twilight couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she listened nonetheless.

"No, it would be far too convenient for the king's perfectly healthy children to all die a week after their father's death," said Rosetta, "And even then, their deaths would just rally the citizens and war would be inevitable."

There was a long, long silence.

Suddenly, Twilight Sparkle gasped loudly, drawing the attention of the other princesses as she stepped forward.

"I have an idea!"