In less than a day, using a combination of flying with my fictional bat wings and using status magic to myself so that I was lighter, I managed to reach Twelt, which is in central Prywhen. Not far from where I landed, I could hear the fighting between the monarchist and communist forces. It must have been early April now but I hadn’t really kept track of that. I had more important things in mind. I hadn’t come near a frontline to see the fireworks. I had picked Twelt specifically because the writer of the mysterious book I had read, was, supposedly, from here. I hoped to get more information from him, in case I was able to locate him. The book didn’t look particularly old in the first place, so I hoped the writer, whoever it was, would still be alive. With that in mind I moved towards the main part of the town of Twelt. The sun was still up at that time.

Getting close to Twelt I could tell that it was more of a village rather than a town. Stone houses with wooden roofs and many looking run-down or dilapidated. Uncultivated rice fields filled the outer space of Twelt, many of them overgrown with weeds and the like. Passing through one of them I saw a sign that displayed, in barely comprehensive letters, the message:

‘MINEFIELD

LETHAL DANGER AHEAD’

I sighed and rolled my eyes around.

‘Off to a great start, I am.’

I used my magic to enhance what I could feel beneath the ground and slowly but surely navigated myself around the landmines. Inside the village, there was a dead silence even though it was still midday. Around the small village square there were several shell craters. I thought the front had never moved close to Twelt but apparently, I was seriously mistaken. Inside the craters, there were puddles of water from the recent rains. As I passed by to go towards the tower of the mayor, I spotted a group of armed griffons out of the corner of my eye. From the way they looked and were dressed, they were one of two things: bandits and deserters or guerillas. Both cases boded very badly for me. One of them called out to me.

‘Hey you! Yeah, you the pony, unicorn, whatever! What the hell are you doing here? What’s your business in Twelt?’

‘I am simply searching for the writer of this book.’, I replied calmly, took out the book of the mason and showed it to them.

‘The mason of Twelt? He died like-what, thirty years ago? Why the hell are you looking for him? You know what, I do not care. Most of the people from Twelt have left for areas further south like Kissau and Qwoptia. Twelt, by order of the king himself, is a frontline town, meaning that you pack up and leave or we are absolutely not responsible if you get blown up.’

The griffon then pointed to a ditch, dug on the right of where he stood.

‘You come to Twelt often, you’ll end up like all the poor fucks we buried here yesterday. Attended a country fair, they were. Shell blew up, all dead. We couldn’t even recognize them. We just buried stuff. Legs, Heads, pieces of those, you name it. But, do us a fucking favor and leave before we are ordered to dig your grave too. Not that I care about you but I got a back that hurts like hell from all the digging and ducking from communist shot and shell.’

‘I will try to keep myself safe then and I’ll leave as soon as I can.’

‘You better. Ah, and watch out for bandits and deserters. You can tell them apart because they don’t carry the king’s badge. As for the communist guerillas you can spot them cause none of them wear any kind of uniform. Report any of those and you might just as well be rewarded once, or whenever, the war’s over. Farewell.’

Because your ‘uniform’ is very well maintained, is what I wanted to say but I restrained myself. Well, I was sure, I would run into issues, because I am a pony and all but apparently the king’s forces have other more important problems to deal with. I watched them walk away to the west of the direction I had come from. When they were far away enough, I turned to keep going my way to the mayor’s tower, so I could get information, if I could. Or so I began doing but then I just stood on that same spot and pondered for a second, what I, actually, should be doing next. That is, because according to, well, whatever those griffons were, the mason who had written this book has been dead for quite a while now. That book was my only clue at beginning my investigation of Kloseu’s attempted assassination. It was not a great clue in the first place but it was the only one I had, as the book clearly described cases of influence from ‘unknown beings’ in the events happening in Griffonia, both from the ancient and more recent past. I decided to head off again though, albeit in no particular direction at all, as I had no idea, as of now, about what I should do next. However, at that time, I heard a door crick behind me. I immediately turned to the direction of the sound and from the water in the trenches I raised swords made out of ice pointing at the new threat. However, to my absolute astonishment a white flag emerged from the edge of the door and in a soft voice, a griffon spoke from behind the door.

‘Please, don’t shoot me, I mean no harm.’

‘Well, apparently so.’

I let the swords fall as water, back to the ground again. From behind the door an old female griffon had shown up still waving that small white flag, as if she was surrendering to me. She was rugged and generally looked horrible.

‘You shouldn’t be here.’

‘There are some things I need to, … find in Twelt, so I am fully intending to stay here for a while. Maybe you would know where I could- ‘

‘Come inside, quick.’

That was sudden but I was more than glad to do so. I mean, if she proved to be dangerous, I could easily get rid of her and then practice necromancy on her corpse, but truth be told, by how she looked, I perished any thought, that she might be ill intended, and quite immediately so. She looked as if she hadn’t eaten for quite some time and it showed on her face. I pitied her really.

She slowly closed the door behind me and locked it twice and then made sure, that it was very sturdily shut. And then from the side of the room she was trying to push a piano in front of the door. I was surprised to say the least. I quickly used my magic to push it in front of the door for her. She turned to me with a painful yet thankful expression.

‘You should not talk outside or stay outside for long.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, this…’

And she slightly raised the curtain on one of the windows and pointed outside. The soldiers from before had returned. They were looking around.

‘What about it?’

‘You are not from Prywhen or from anywhere near Prywhen are you?’

‘No, I am not. I am from…’

‘Don’t tell me. You don’t even know me. As for those ‘soldiers’ they are just marauders simply posing off as monarchist militia.’

I knew it! No, wait, I didn’t.

‘They did not rob you because they couldn’t see anything of value on you but from the looks of it, they rethought their former position on the matter.’

She let the curtain fall down again and turned to me.

‘You, seriously, are here on your own with just the bag on your back?’

‘Ah, no, you just cannot see the rest.’

I made my luggage visible to her as I had used a spell to make them invisible. Well, actually, it is not invisibility. I change the air flow in front of items to create the illusion of invisibility.

‘Why do you trust me so much? While, I mean no harm, this is Prywhen and especially Prywhen amidst a bloody civil war. A good piece of advice is to trust nobody and for no reason, except if you want to end up dead.’

‘I will keep that in mind.’

The old griffon made an attempt at smiling.

‘My name is Mihaela Tweltanu.’

‘I am Rosa.’

‘Well, glad to have you here Rosa.’

‘I am the one who should be thanking you. I reckon, there would not be a lot of griffons in Prywhen, who would let a stranger, let alone a pony, into their house without any second thought.’

She tried to smile again but I could tell she was feeling very uneasy.

‘I, unfortunately, cannot provide much in terms of accommodation, I can hardly keep the old house standing. As for food, …’

When she uttered those words, she looked desperate and started shacking. I felt genuinely horrible. There are creatures out there suffering much worse than I do and yet I was always complaining about what happened to me. Please, forgive me Truth, for I have been selfish beyond measure! I am going to make up now, though, as best as I can.

‘Don’t worry, I have food I can give you. It is more than enough for myself and it would go to waste if I only kept it for myself. I mean, it is just cookies and crackers but it is all I have with me.’

I went and dragged the box with the crackers and cookies, my mother had made me some five months ago back in Equestria. The box is sealed by elementally removing all air from the inside and the freezing the openings. Thus, anything inside the box remains as fresh as when it was first made. I laid the box in front of the old lady and opened it.

‘Well, that’s all I have for now. But I can work my magic to make food artificially later…’

I looked at Mihaela. She was on the verge of crying and was trembling all over.

She beckoned for me to go to the room on the right as we had been sitting close to the entrance the entire time. The other room looked as if it was a kitchen, once upon a long time ago. It had, most certainly, seen better days. I put the box on the table and we both sat next to each other. I took a cookie and handed her one as well. She looked at me, as if asking, whether she could have it or not.

‘Yes, yes, go ahead.’

She started eating and she seemed to like it. Her eyes were teary. When she finished eating, she started crying.

‘Was it not good?’

‘No. It was great. But I wished you had been here sooner.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘It is not your fault. But had you been here a few weeks before you would have saved my husband’s life.’

‘I am sorry, I didn’t know…’

She was crying and her words were muffled beneath the tears.

‘From all the ways one could die… I watched him whittle away and die of starvation. Why! I wasn’t even strong enough to bury him properly! Laid him in the soil in the garden and covered him with dirt as best as I could. Before we would all mourn the passing of someone from our town together. Now, all I could do was cry alone above his shallow grave. Why Boreas! Why!’

I didn’t know what I could say. I stayed silent. What was I to even say?

‘All that’s left to me is my son. He’s off to the war and gone. And I know how he is coming back. Like all of the boys he went with. They come back in those pure white caskets and then they bury them in the cemetery. If they even do that. Often, they just throw them in a ditch on the field and cover it up. If he goes too, I would rather kill myself than keep living, as if this is a life in the first place.’

I embraced her and the downpour did not stop till some significant time had passed.

‘Thank you. I had not even expected to receive kindness from a stranger. You are a pure soul, Rosa.’

‘I am just a young stupid pony.’

She started laughing.

‘I think you give yourself too little credit for what you are worth.’

We both laughed, ate our cookies and went back through another door to what must have been the living room before the war. There was a hole in the ceiling and visible damage from fire in another end of the room.

‘Sorry, but even if I could I wouldn’t be able to cover that up. A shell crashed from the attic above and landed through the ceiling here. Had we been here at that time we would have all been dead. You see it was before my son left for the war, back in 1006. I suppose the war would get us all killed eventually, one way or the other.’

‘You shouldn’t think that way. You still have your son alive and you are still alive too, despite having been through hell.’

I checked her face, hoping I hadn’t brought up painful memories in her mind again. She read my mind.

‘Ah, do not worry, I don’t have a habit of crying. I am quite old for that. Though not as old as you might think. I am around two times your age.’

‘Wait, how is that possible?’

‘Being constantly on edge, hunger, lack of sleep. All that take their toll on any creature.’

I shivered. Things were hellishly worse here, than anywhere else I had been before. Was that the same way in Sydia? I hadn’t stayed enough to see. However, I decided not to continue such an unpleasant conversation with her. Did not think, she would like that. So, I simply started looking around the room and then Michaela spoke to me again.

‘What exactly is that you are visiting Twelt for, if you don’t mind me asking. And also, that you can stay here as long as you want, is granted. Food in exchange would be greatly appreciated. Money lost all value anyways and I don’t need or can use any.’

If she was to be my host in Prywhen, then I suppose it would only be fair for her to know the purpose of my travels. However, I couldn’t talk about the Wendigos with her. It would either put her in danger or she would not understand.

‘I want to investigate the attempted assassination on King Kloseu’s life, which ended up killing his wife.’

Michaela stood there for a second and she seemed to be deep in thought. She apparently came up with something to say but stopped before actually saying anything. There was some uneasy silence for a while and then she responded to my statement from before.

‘In all honesty, I think you shouldn’t poke your beak or nose, in your case, into things not of your concern. However, considering you are here specifically on that end and so, anything I said now would not really stop you, I would recommend against investigating the murder directly. First and foremost, the murder happened back in 1003. Any traces of it on the crime scene, in Kivessin, have been removed a while now.’

There was a sofa in the untouched corner of the room and she invited me to sit down with her.

‘Your best bet is to either get information from direct sources, like officials, all of which are obviously extremely biased. Indirect sources will simply repeat to you what the radio broadcasts said about the incident back in 1003. In my opinion, while official reports were biased in favor of the point of view of the king, if you can get your hooves on them, that would be a start. But why investigate that now? What is done is done. The civil war is here and it will end, one way or the other.’

‘If the majority of griffons of Prywhen knew, that the reasons, they had been fighting for, were simply non-existent would they continue, willingly, to kill one another?’

That’s the bottom line of my investigation. Even if I prove that the assassination attempt was undertaken by the Wendigos or agents used by them, if that does not alter the course of events and lead to a conclusion of the war in a peaceful manner, then I am not actually achieving anything. Furthermore, if the course of history does not change then my original hypothesis, that the war was caused by the Wendigos, would be false, or it could be concluded that I was far too late to change anything, which is also a problematic conclusion. I cannot, yet, unveil the plans of the Wendigos before they happen or right after they happen as, currently, I can only observe real events.

‘I would very much wish for what you want to be true.’

‘But you don’t think it is rational.’

‘Actually, I do think it is rational and possible. It is just not a given fact. Even if the assassination proves to be a fluke, you will need extra steps to get all that out to the public, of both sides. To do this you must understand that you cannot ask or expect help or give help to any of the two warring sides. The moment you do that, the other side will say that your proof is fraudulent and thus the war will continue.’

‘I am prepared to take all the necessary risks.’

‘Well, alright. You got some big plans for your age. I envy you. I couldn’t dream of going from Twelt to Sydia when I was younger and you are thinking of how to change things way above you. I sincerely hope you succeed.’

‘Thank you, Mihaela. It truly means a lot to me.’

‘Besides the longer all this investigation of yours takes, the more I get to have your company so I do not think I am getting myself a bad deal really.’

We both remained in this joyous atmosphere, telling stories about our pasts, of how we ended up where we are and how the place, we ended up being on now, is absolutely unbelievable and yet somehow feels exactly right. Later, by sundown we ate dinner-yeah cookies and crackers again-but I will make sure to work my magic on that front from tomorrow onwards. While we were eating Michaela turned to me, smiling.

‘Would you like me to tell you a little story?’

I swear she sounded like the grandma I never had at that moment. I giggled a little thinking that but then simply smiled and responded happily.

‘Yes, sure, why not. I like a good story.’

She cleared her throat and began speaking in a more stable, more narrative tone.

‘You see, when you told me about what you were here to do in Twelt, it really reminded me of the story of Helena of Troy.’

I have read a lot about the history of Griffonia as well as its geography. I had never heard of any place named Troy, and while I obviously did not know everything, I was still confused.

‘Ah, right, Troy is not a real place. Some say it is Temsoar here in Prywhen, the Wingbardians say it is Karthin, the Aqueilians say it is Pridea and the Herzlanders think it is Cloudbury. But in reality, it is just a made-up place.’

‘Alright, that makes more sense.’

‘So, as I was saying, there is that story about Helena of Troy. Now, according to the original story Helena, who was the most beautiful griffon of all, was married to a great king of one of the ancient griffonian kingdoms. Far away, in the kingdom of Troy, a prince of Troy was, one day, called upon by three goddesses to decide who was the prettiest one, because they had been in a quarrel over that matter. Every goddess offered him something different to tempt him. The first one, political power, the second one, wisdom and the third one offered to give him Helena as his wife. The prince chose the third option and then with the help of that goddess, stole away Helena. The great king was furious upon finding this out. He gathered his armies and all his allies and marched to Troy and besieged the city. However, the city, for many reasons, proved increasingly difficult to take. The great king fought there for ten bloody years, with countless dead on both sides, but it was only in the tenth year that he managed to claim the city of Troy and reunite with his wife.’

‘Yes, this sounds like the usual kind of tale you would hear in Equus as well, albeit in a different manner.’

‘Well, the thing is that this tale is false.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘According to another version of the tale, which in my mind sounds a lot more plausible, Helena never went to Troy. The goddess would give Helena to the prince, but the other gods and goddesses were absolutely against that. So, instead, they switched the real Helena with a ghost of Helena that looked, felt and acted just like the original. At the same time, they sent the original Helena to another very distant kingdom. In this manner, the prince took the ghost of Helena, a shadow, with him in Troy. And the great king, his soldiers and allies fought and died in Troy for ten years, then captured and destroyed the city of Troy and killed or enslaved all its griffons, only to find out that they were doing all this for a shadow. The moral of the story is that, what is and what looks like are two very different things, but they can look very much identical. However, our unwillingness or inability to find the truth blinds us to the difference and by the point we realize our mistake, it is far too late.’

She paused for a minute as her tale came to an end. I simply had listened in awe and I think I was staring at Michaela far too intensely, even if she had already finished. Then, Michaela continued.

‘I think you are from the few people, who have actually figured out, that Prywhen is in a civil war all because of a shadow. There is no actual point in this whole war. However, not the king, not Redglad, nor the monarchists or the communists will realize this, until they have finally ‘won’ and only then, will they find out that all they gained from winning was but a shadow. They lost nearly everything fighting. The wealth of the nation, any remaining food, the people of their own country, friends, family, neighbors. And what will they have to show for their victory? A shadow, that of a formerly prosperous nation. Rosa, that’s why I want to believe in what you are trying to achieve. Even if it is so unlikely, I would rather help you out as much as I can, than see my home fall into ruin for a shadow and knowing I did nothing about it, when I had the chance.’

I was amazed at how telling the story was of the Wendigos. Maybe those ancient griffons knew a thing or two, that we have forgotten today. I decided not to tell that to Michaela, though. The situation is still too dangerous for that.

‘The story was great, Michaela! Also, worry not, I will be doing every damned crazy thing that crosses my mind if I can have a chance at stopping this civil war. You have my word.’

So I said, but deep down I knew that things were much more complicated than that.

‘I am glad to hear that but just make sure to keep yourself safe while doing so, alright?’

‘Don’t worry, I am not easy to get rid of!’

Michaela laughed and I smiled broadly. Whatever the case I would try to take my chances on this matter and see where I could get.

After we finished dinner, we went to the room behind the living room where we would sleep. This one was much better preserved than the others but it was much smaller. Regardless, we opted to sleep together as you really never know what will happen in the middle of the night amidst a war fought some kilometers nearby. And indeed, before dawn I heard loud booming sounds in the distance, mixed in with battle cries, gunfire, the crying of the dying and the wounded and the entire building shook heavily as if there was an earthquake. I got up and looked at the wildly changing texture of red colors of gunfire in the background. I had never been here before so I was relatively worried. Isn’t this house too close to the battlefield? Michaela had seen I had gotten up but did not get up herself.

‘Go back to sleep, is my advice. The only serious threat to us here are shells but the communists only have shells to fire every second night. The monarchists have shells but they are firing them in the opposite direction. For today and till nighttime tomorrow, we are perfectly safe.’

I decided to follow the instructions of my host and fell asleep very quickly again. As a precautionary measure, though, I froze up the wind outside the wall of the room, that we were sleeping in, which was facing the battlefield. If a shell came this way, it would end up blowing up outside rather than going off inside the house.

Author's Note

The story presented in this chapter about Helena of Troy is not from the original Iliad of Homer. Instead, it is a reference to the ancient Greek drama(play) Helen, by Euripides, first shown in 412 BC.