Culture Shock

Twilight looked back to see that the Empress' servant was still on the floor, coughing and attempting to regain his breathe. The young griffon was half her height and couldn't be more than six as he grabbed hold of the table in an attempt to steady himself. The mare didn't see any reason not to, so she picked him up herself, brushed him off, and set him on the couch. The griffon looked at her gratefully with large, golden-green eyes. Twilight walked numbly over to her spot on the couch and sat down again, sighing. She made a mental note to never bring the subject up again. But... curiosity still pried at her. Maybe it was her nature, but something was still driving her to ask the same question that had just gotten her locked in her room.

She closely examined the young griffon across from her, he was about half her height, he had ten or so long feathers that fell over his left eye in a swoop, and he had long, pointed ears that were currently pressed flat to his head as he curiously peered at Twilight. He didn't seem as shy as she'd seen him with his master, as least. A long time passed, and every second the griffon stared at her. His tail switched along the sides of the couches as he observed her in turn.

Finally, after being stared at for four minutes, Twilight said. "So... why doesn't she want to talk to me about her populace exactly?"

At first the youth scowled, like he'd just tasted sour milk. Then, he took a deep breathe, saying. "My master, Empress Elusia, made me swear that I wouldn't speak of our private affairs to foreigners."

Twilight's eyes widened as the young griffon actually spoke her name. Not a moment after did he realize his mistake. He smacked himself in the face, mumbling 'stupid' under his breath as he did so.

"What did you say your name was again?"

"It's Aria."

To Twilight that sounded like a very girly name to begin with, but mixed with the way the Empress had made him dress, it was hard to not just think of Aria as a female. It was like he saw the gears turning in her head, because he interrupted the silence to keep her from jumping to conclusions.

"I'm male." The youth growled. "Excuse the way my master makes me dress in order to demean me."

"She makes you dress like that every day?"

"Only when she feels like asserting her dominance over me..." He sighed. "She's... possessive, see. She does this to her servants sometimes, but being her personal slave makes me the prime target."

Twilight looked at him for a long time, then she suddenly realized. For being six, his vocabulary seemed quite extensive. He talked like an adult, and the way he talked made him seem far more intelligent than an average griffon his age. Not only that, but she knew for a fact that Griffonians didn't speak Equestrian. It was a taboo language.

"You speak good Equestrian." Twilight stated.

After a pause, Aria replied. "My education revolves around good communication and how to perform my duties as a servant." The words sounded hollow, like he'd recited them a thousand times before. "I know a few languages, Twilight."

The mare faltered, him addressing her by name was unnerving. He just had an air about him. It was an immensely unhappy, restricting aura that seemed to cling to him like it was part of his nature. He didn't seem happy at all, but smart. He was a people griffon, so to speak. He could tell a lot about somepony by just looking at them. But despite being a social creature, he just looked... caged. Confined.

"So..." Twilight said, quietly. "She doesn't let you get out much?"

"No, she doesn't." He said bluntly. "I've never left this castle in my life. As a matter of fact... the last time I left this tower was two years ago, when my master said that I could accompany her to dinner."

As much as she pitied the creature, Twilight knew that she couldn't let this opportunity to learn about the Empress, Elusia, slip by. She shifted closer to Aria, putting a hoof on his back. He didn't mind, as a matter of fact, he seemed to welcome the physical contact that didn't end with him being choked. Twilight felt very sorry for him, but she knew that he couldn't be helped.

"Your master... Elusia. How does she treat her people?"

"Cruelly." Was all he said. "I could tell you, but all I want you to do is look at the underside of your bedframe. As a matter of fact, if you get the chance, look for the books in this library that past ambassadors have made their journals. You'll find rather... interesting things written in the blank pages."

Twilight got up off the couch and walked over to her staircase, forgetting about the servant for a moment while she went to check under her bed. She galloped upstairs, looking around the room. She found a candle on her nightstand and lit it, then slid under her massive canopy bed. At first she couldn't see much, but soon small scratches became visible. Some were bathed in red as they fell into relief due to candlelight.

Huge amounts of letters, sentences, were cut into the bottom of the bed. Some had dates, others didn't. Some had generous amounts of blood coating them. At this point Twilight was beginning to lose her nerve, but she forged on, forcing herself to read at least two of the messages.

'Bleeding out' One said.

The mare didn't want to read anymore, but her eyes disobeyed her and read a full paragraph.

'She cut me open, I can't move anymore. I managed to lock myself in this room... she's not chasing me in here, she knows that I won't last much longer with half my back cut open... as I die here, my thoughts are suddenly so much clearer. I know what I want to say now. First, I tore my left fang out of my gum to write this, it's not like I'll need it in a few minutes anyways. Now, her servant, that small griffon that follows her around, he's the key. HE is the only thing that she cares to talk to, and he knows her secrets. Please, don't be disillusioned. She doesn't care for you. Don't make the same mist ----------'

The message carved off, and just where she saw it end, there, stuck to the bedframe, was an old, yellowed fang. There was no telling what species it was, but Twilight had seen enough. She scurried out from under the bed, forgetting about her candle. She ran into her personal restroom and splashed cold water on her face. This had to be fake, a joke. Everything had been fine a few hours ago...  But some morbid, torturous instinct of hers told her to go back and more.

With slow, deliberate steps, she went back over to the bed and looked under it. There, beside the long message, there was what seemed to be a poem. She ignored it for more useful information. She looked over and saw what looked like another last will and testament.

'He's not a griffon, her slave. He's not anything. He's a monster, a sick being that shouldn't exist. Adorable, I said, so nice, I said. He's no more alive than he is dead. She created him; he's nothing but a being she stitched together to exist as her playtoy. He's not alive.'

The message had a definitive end this time, but looking over she saw that many were about Aria. But one, he saw, mentioned the Empress.

'She... she took it away. I have to work for her. I have to obey, or I'll never see it again. She took my wings, and she said she'd take more than that away if I kept disobeying... she said first, she'd take my wings, and then, if I refused to behave, she'd blind me. Then, if even then I didn't obey, she would make sure that I'd never had children... I just want to go home to my family... mother....

536 A.T.'

That one had a date. It was two years ago. Then, like the silver lining of a cloud, a message leaped out from the rest. It was literally written in just blood this time.

'I plucked a feather to write this, and I have a while. But, I'll keep this letter brief. I'm not dying. My name is Squall, and I have befriended the young one, Aria. He is a chimera, a thing made of many other things. I never got details, but he's not a griffon per se. I'd like to say that he is, though, a very good-hearted being. He is miserable, and his heart is constantly bleeding from those that he befriends, and then loses when his master kills them. The Empress, Elusia, she is a monster. All the other messages here say that Aria is a sick being, but I don't think so. He's young, and troubled.

Turning more towards the Empress, she... she is a sociopath. There is nothing more that can be said along these parameters, since I have already figured out her name and her psychological condition. That is how she is, and unfortunately, if you're reading this message, you are, ultimately, either going to leave here under her command or you're going to leave as an urn of ashes.

First entry, 537 A.T.'

Twilight could feel a knot growing in her throat as she read more, and more. None of these messages were written by anypony, or griffon, that ever planned on seeing their family or friends again. There were over twenty notes written there, some by the dying and some coming to realize their fate, as Twilight was. Learning that you won't survive something is horrifying, but knowing that you'll be broken, beaten and bent to another's will before that is like drinking battery acid.

The mare stumbled away, blowing out her candle and putting it back on her nightstand. She could just imagine it, her horn being sawed off and then her mane plucked hair by hair, tortured as the Empress spoke to her in that suddenly sickly sweet, loving manner. At the thought of not having a horn anymore a wave of nausea rolled over her, stronger than she could hold back. The gravity of the situation hit her, and once again she ran into her restroom, this time she was sick.

She stayed in there for a long while, attempting to rebuild her wall of innocence around herself. She tried to forget the messages, the things written under the bed. She tried everything she knew, even casting curse after curse at herself in an attempt to forget. But to no avail, the words carved into the bedframe were burnt into her memory. And at that moment, she knew that she would never see her friends again.

But... then, something happened. Denial snuck in. Anypony could have written those messages. Aria himself could have written those to scare her, or a guard thinking that it was a good joke to scare the ambassadors. She began to laugh, thinking of how absurd it was. Having her horn sawed off, ridiculous. The Empress was a kind griffon; she'd never done anything to harm anypony. If anyone, the one that wrote those messages to mess with her head were the ones that were cruel. Blocking out reality once again, Twilight walked back out into the foyer, rolling her eyes. But still, in the back of her head, the words burned like hot ashes, waiting for more fuel to be thrown to them so they could burn once again.