Illumination, The Story of an Antagonist

As the morning sun begins its ascent from the horizon painting the sky in soft, pastel hues, the two griffons shuffle. Not a word had been said in hours, and the silence has been as tense as metal wire ready to snap and slice any who dared to get in its way.

It’s broken when Chief sighs and turns to his young companion, “Look kid, I’m not out to get you and I’m sorry I snapped, but you have to learn that questioning the one who writes your paycheck is not a great idea.”

Erio looks away. “It’s not that, it’s just...well how do you know?” he questions, “how can we be sure what we hear is right?”

“Let me tell you about the time I met Anonymous,” Chief begins. “It was about a year ago when we all came together in secret to form the Unohdettu, it was just me and a handful of other griffons loyal to lord Anon. He came and addressed us himself, telling us all what we were going to be doing and how we were going to go about it.”

With a tilt of his head, Erio says, “That doesn’t sound like a reason to join...and neither did it answer my question.”

“I’m getting to that,” Chief gently chides. “Anyways, after he explained everything, he told us WHY we were going to do it.” He looks away into the distance. “He told us... that there are just some things that need to be done, for the greater good of everyone within the Dominion. He gave us his speech with such fire, such passion that it couldn’t possibly be a lie.” Chief turns his baleful yellow eyes to his younger companion, who is listening intently. “You can’t just hop up on a stage and start doling out something like that and have it be untrue, no one can lie with that much vigor. Every one of his words were so robust and they flowed together almost perfectly. Plus, just why would he want to mislead any of us? Lord Anon has proved time and again that he has everyone’s safety in the forefront of his mind.”

Could it all be true? Maybe the rookie griffin is just over thinking things.

Cowed, Erio looks away. “I guess I just didn’t see like that...” he mumbles, even if an itch of doubt still worms away at the back of his mind.

He turns back when a claw lands on his shoulder; Chief’s claw.

“Kid, there’s no need to beat yourself up over this. In fact,” the gray plumed griffon smiles faintly “it’s good that you don’t just blindly follow everything you hear. It’s a poor trait to have.”

Erio returns the smile uneasily, still on the fence about his opinion of Anonymous before a loud growl rips through the small area. Both of the operatives jump, only to realize that it’s Erio’s stomach protesting its lack of nourishment.

“Er...we did bring rations right?”

“Heh, hope you enjoy the taste of boiled ass, kid, because that’s the best you’re going to get out of a standard MRE.”

A despaired groan sounds out from the edge of the plateau along with the grumbling of an empty stomach.

The next morning you’re back in the library, this time looking through the history of some other nations, namely Equestria and the Canine Republic.

Both could turn into huge threats at a moments notice, seeing as how Equestria is home to the most proficient magicians in the world, and the Canine Republic for its less-than-friendly history with the Griffin Dominion. It always pays to know one’s foes well. That goes double for anything on a national scale.

Scratching through another several pages of notes, you stop when a passing archivist very subtly slips a small note between the pages of a book you were reading.

Something important has come up then?

Without any sort of unneeded movements, you pull the small corner of parchment from the book pages and read the hastily scrawled message.

”DiVargin stirring up trouble with council”

“Of course, I can never seem to catch a break can I?” you mutter to yourself.

Picking up the several pages of parchment you had written down, you rise and make for the elevator as a pair of archivists come and take your books back to their rightful places. During the bumpy ride down, you take some time to think yourself. What could DiVargin be up to? More mudslinging? A bid for the throne? Or perhaps...

You narrow your eyes dangerously, perhaps he’s found out about your less than legal activities. If that’s the case, then it looks like DiVargin will be able to count the rest of his life in minutes.

But what of the council? If the snooty bastard had opened his big beak then they would need to go as well, but explaining the sudden deaths of the Council members and a high-ranking politician and noble like DiVargin would be well and beyond tricky.

Once on the ground floor of the library, you take off in a brisk walk to the council chambers, where the head advisory body of the emperor resided. It takes you only several minutes with your pace to reach the chambers. The guards stationed outside don’t even try to stop you as you push the large, oak, double doors open. You stroll inside to the sound of arguing voices.

“Councilman Harel, please reconsider! It is obvious that a non-griffin should not be the one to take the throne!” a slightly nasally voice says, obviously frustrated.

You walk further into the ornate antechamber to see none other than DiVargin pleading his case to five elderly griffons, all of them seated at a half crescent table surrounding DiVargin. The councilmember in the middle sighs and takes a moment to clean off his spectacles before replying.

“Young DiVargin, the late Pele selected Anonymous personally to be his successor. The council has no influence over that decision. Only the Vähemmän may select a new emperor...” The old griffin glares down his spectacles at the noble, who fumes silently.

“...and as I can see, you are not one of them...” he finishes severely.

The others nod silently, supporting Harel’s statement.

“If you are truly so hell-bent on taking the throne, then you may apply for an appeal to the Vähemmän, just don’t expect to be taken seriously. Now go child, we grow weary with your presence,” Harel says with the dismissing wave of his talon. If the spotless yellow feathers on DiVargin weren’t hiding it, you’d swear that his face is purple as a pruce in anger, even if his visage remains in a carefully controlled façade of minor annoyance.

He turns walks out without so much as a ‘farewell’, stopping once he sees you.

“So if it isn’t the one and only Anonymous, there’s been much talk about you,” he says as cordially as possible. In other words you can practically feel the venom behind each word.

You narrow your eyes at the phrase ‘one and only’, a veiled insult to your race no doubt. “Well I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well. Mostly about some recent topics that have, in your conversations... odd if I might say so myself...”

He doesn’t miss a single beat, “odd conversation about an... odd individual.”

You have to give him credit, DiVargin has a face that would make a veteran poker player green with envy. “You sound like you speak from experience, as I should have expected from you.”

He actually trips up some from that one, taking longer than usual to think of a comeback. “Am I experienced? Yes actually, but not as much as you,” he quips.

You go to reply, and hopefully rile him up before he abruptly stops and turns to you, his eyes filled with silent accusations. “Enough of the foolishness, I know that you are up to no good. How convenient it is that the emperor would name you successor a scant five days before his death. Almost TOO convenient...” DiVargin snarls quietly.

You raise an eyebrow, making him continue.

“I KNOW, that something is going on around here that isn’t right. You are the villain here, the one that will be stopped by me.”

You chuckle quietly to yourself, how naïve. This griffin is plenty smart and resourceful, but in no way shape or form is he your match.

“Really? And I’m guessing that you have hard evidence of my so-called crimes? Unaltered photo evidence? A confession under a truth potion? Well? Speak up, I want to hear just how I’ve been ‘caught’.” You say was a grin on your face.

DiVargin says nothing, opting to glare into your eyes with his own fearsome green orbs.

“Exactly. In fact, I bet this isn’t about any sort of perceived wrong on my part, you just want the crown of the Dominion to yourself, to have more power than you know what to do with. How close am I?”

Now he’s almost lost his cool. His red face, burning in anger becoming visible beneath his feathers.

“Hit uncomfortably close didn’t I?” you say with a grin slowly forming on your face

DiVargin bites down on his own beak so hard that you can hear it grinding.

“... Bastard, you dare? You dare to spew such lies about me when the same lies are what brought you into power!” He almost yelled, stopping himself just short of alerting everyone around. He takes a deep breath and turns his baleful gaze back to you, “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were no good. You worked your way through the ranks too fast, got too many achievements too soon. Some say it’s good nature and that you just want to please, but I know better. This is all the actions of someone with a plan, someone with too much ambition. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I WILL stop it. I am the hero here, and nothing will get in my way when it comes time to tear you from the little pedestal you’ve built yourself up on. Mark my words.”

With a final sneer in your direction, he turns and leaves the council chamber entrance. Well, looks like the cards are on the table and the hands are about to be dealt. It’s a good thing you know how to stack the deck...

Leaving out as well, you wander the large halls of the palace aimlessly, until you come across a lone, chain mail clad guard on patrol. He looks up at you and slows his walk just enough to be noticeable. Lucky for you break it seems.

“The world would be an awful, ugly place without friends. Don’t you agree?”

The guard replies slowly “That is quite debatable, sir.”

Good... whoever originally thought of using codes within normal phrases was a genius.

“I want you to get a tail for DiVargin, he proved not even ten minutes ago that he is paranoid and on to what we are doing. Under no circumstance is he to be left unwatched. Should he find out something crucial, neutralize him. I don’t care how,” you order.

The guard nods. “Of course sir, I will begin now and then relay the orders when I can.”

You give him a pat on the shoulder. “Good. Know that you’re doing the Dominion a service.”

With that out of the way, you begin the trek back to your quarters. Seeing as how the day has been somewhat stressful, you could use a drink and a bit of time to yourself. A ten minute walk brings you back to the luxurious room, but before you can open the doors you feel a tug at the back of your suit coat. With an annoyed sigh you turn and find, to your considerable surprise none other than Gilda.

She’s a mess. Feathers out of place, fur dirty, and the markings around her eyes looking pale, giving her a rather sickly look.

“Gilda?”

She mutely nods her head. “Anon? Do you mind if I talk to you?” she quietly asks, a far cry from her usual brash self.

Really, you’d rather tell her that yes, you did mind, but considering her standing within the Dominion that’s not much of an option.

You open the door and motion for her to come in, which she does without a word.

She settles on the couch of your front room as you seat yourself next her, wondering what could be wrong...Ah...

“I take it that the letter about Pele arrived you?” you ask gently.

Gilda let out a shaky exhale and nods. “I came back as fast as I could...I almost beat the tar out of the courier thinking this was some kind of cruel joke...” She looks up at you, looking more vulnerable than you had ever seen her. As if all her life lines keeping her connected to reality had been severed.

The young griffin hen wrings her claws in her lap anxiously. “So this isn’t a joke? He...he’s really gone?”

“Yes Gilda, I’m sorry,” you say, painting your voice with false remorse.

“N-nah, it’s good. You couldn’t have done anything...It’s just... he was the last one...” The white plumed griffin clenches her eyes shut and turns away, her shaking shoulders set in place. “First mom, then my old man, and now gramps... It’s not fair man...” she forces out, her voice cracking more as she goes on.

Now you can officially say you had never seen Gilda this distraught. Normally she shrugged off anything and everything that life throws her, but it looks like she place more stock in her family than anyone realized. Then something comes to you. You don’t know where it came from or just how it sprung up, but it’s without a doubt one of the greatest, yet cruelest ideas you’ve ever had.

Just thinking about it puts a smile on your face, a smile devoid of happiness, but instead filled with a distorted and perverted sense of accomplishment and giddiness. Without waiting for her to break down any farther, you wrap your arms around Gilda in a tender embrace, making her gasp and turn to look at you.

“Gilda... I know what it’s like, the hurt I can come from losing those close to you. For so long I’ve strived to avoid it, and to prevent it in others,” you tighten your hold on her slightly, “I can promise you... that no matter what I will be here for you. No one can take me away.”

She pushes away, halfheartedly trying to pull herself from your grip and failing.

“Gilda... just let it out, I’ll keep it all to myself.”

She once more tries to pull free, only to put almost no effort into it before she gives up and opts to look at you with misty eyes instead. “H-how? How can you promise any of that? How do I know you’re not lying!?”

“Does this look like the face of a liar?” Once more she looks you in the eye as you morph your face into the kindest, most gentle expression of compassion you can.

Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the thin trails of moisture from leaving the corners of her eyes. Unbidden, the young griffin buries her head into the chest of your shirt. Silently regaling you with the misery of losing family and the relief of your promise in the form of tears.

You just hold her closely As she slowly cries herself to sleep, your mockery of a smile coming back full force. Telling a soon-to-be horror story.