Quicksilver stirred in his bed, his nightmare unfolding before him. He was strung up next a target, and his body tied down by thick ropes. He tossed and turned, cursing wildly and trying any means to escape his confinement. He watched helplessly as Sharp Beak and a host of Nomad Gryphons held their crossbows and aimed straight at him. He kept resisting, thrashing his body about to find any means of escape. Sharp Beak unleashed his first bolt, yet the bolt didn’t hit his body.
He looked down and saw that his right wing was struck. Severed in two, the limb hanging by a thread.
Quicksilver screamed; his remaining wing was destroyed, and he no longer could fly. He then felt his body sway backwards as the target he was attached to lost its footing, and he fell to the earth, down a large canyon. He spun wildly for a few moments, screaming out in pain and torment. He then looked up and saw Sharp Beak and his kin descending towards him, their crossbows aimed directly at him. He watched in horror as the bolts were sent loose and sailed directly towards him. He screamed out in fear as the bolts riddled holes into his body.
“Wake up,” a gentle voice spoke out to him. Quicksilver roused from his slumber, his vision blurred in the given light. His senses slowly came back to him, his ears flickering to the nearby noise. He took a sniff in the air and smelled food nearby. He swallowed and felt his throat parched. He coughed once for air, and that is when he felt a claw grasp the back of his head.
“Here, drink this,” the feminine voice spoke, placing a cup neck to his lips. Water coursed through him, soothing his dry throat. He took several gracious gulps before he parted ways. He sighed in relief as the claw slowly placed his head back onto the pillow.
He opened his eyes wider, his vision becoming more clear in the light. A silhouette figure was visible on his right, and he blinked once to try and see more clearly. He recognized the familiar red feathers on the Gryphon’s chest and the bright feathers on the hens head.
“Gretchen,” he muttered, his jaw feeling sore. He raised his right hoof over his chest, wanting to rest easy. He felt a bandage wrapped tightly around the limb. His eyes went wide and quickly lifted his head up.
“The bolt is gone!” he said, feeling blood rush to his head and making him dizzy. Her claw was placed on his chest, lowering him back down onto the pillow. He already felt exhaustion take over his body. His limbs felt like paste and he would occasionally feel a twitch.
“Easy, fletching. You’ve been out for quite a while,” Gretchen said, her voice trying to comfort him.
“How long was I out?” he asked rather sluggishly, the muscle memory in his jaw slowly returning to him.
“You were out for three days. Sharp Beak did a number on you after you finished your task,” she explained, allowing Quicksilver to look at her.
“Three days? I thought I was out much longer,” he said. She shook her head at him, giving a reassuring smile.
“We thought you would be out for the count. Felix and I feared you would never wake again.” Quicksilver looked up to the roof of the tent, seeing that it was much more spacious than the one he was accustomed to.
“Where am I?” he asked, not turning his gaze back to her.
“You’re in a medical tent that was made under my uncle’s orders. Don’t worry, you're safe here,” she said, reassuring his fears that no other Gryphon would come to harm him. She then went over to reach for something behind her, allowing Quicksilver to rest his head back on the pillow.
“What of my wings?” he asked, not wanting to wait upon the inevitable.
Gretchen turned to him, holding what appeared to be food in her talons. She looked away for a moment, before turning to face him.
“Your wings have been overused during the duration of Sharp Beak‘s torture. Your right wing is damaged, caused by a break in the wing. Felix used a few of his crystals just to fuze your broken bones back together. Though we don’t know how long it will be to fully heal,” she explained, to which at this time allowed Quicksilver to turn on his side briefly to slowly extend his right wing. Once extended, he looked over to see the damage that has been done.
His right wing was bandaged up, same way as his left was before. It wrapped right around the joint. His eyes widened as he saw that his wing was broken the same way his left was, and fear soon gripped his heart.
He closed his eyes, remembering the vivid details under the punishment he was given. Sharp Beak raising his talons and striking directly onto his wing, smiting with much fury and severing the wing. Quicksilver was visibly shaken as he lowered his wing back to his side.
“I’m never going to fly,” he said, tears beginning to form in his eyes. ” I’m never going to fly,” he repeated, already feeling the dam burst.
“You don’t know that,” Gretchen said, her right talon in the bowl and procuring a small piece of meat. She tore a piece off, the sound of ripping meat hung in the air. She held the small slice in her talons before looking back down to Quicksilver.
“I will never fly again. I do know, “ he lamented, not paying attention to what Gretchen was doing.
“Here, eat this,” she said, placing the meat into his mouth. The meat was dry and settled in between his teeth. No doubt she wanted him to keep his mind off his wings. Instinctively he bit down, but found he could not. He closed his eyes, focusing his attention on the meat itself. He tried biting down, trying to break the piece into smaller sizes.
“Just chew,” he heard her say, while he could not do what was requested. His teeth would not sink in and he struggled to bite down. It hurt his jaw to even clamp down, and it exhausted him to even try. After another few seconds, he just gave up, the piece of meat falling out of his mouth and landing on his neck. He kept breathing heavily, and his jaw hung low.
He felt pathetic that the beating he endured now impeded him to even eat.
He felt the meat removed off his chest, and the sound of crunching could be heard. Opening an eye slightly, he saw Gretchen chewing the meat. He saw that she was staring at him, a disgruntled look bearing on her face. He closed his eyes, the sound of her chewing filled the air. He didn’t care if she ate in front of him, all he wanted to do was to be left alone.
Another crunch filled the air and he felt one of her talons gently seize the lower end of his jaw. It was opened up slightly and he gave little to no resistance. He cracked open eye, wondering what she was doing.
Gretchen? What are- His thoughts ceased when he felt an intrusion in his mouth. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw what caused it.
Gretchen had her mouth in his.
Gretchen!? His mind screamed, trying to grasp in all of the holy Goddess what she was doing. He then felt something course in his mouth and ease in the back of his throat.
It was the meat that he couldn’t chew.
He tried to raise a hoof to her, but found that he could not. Gretchen remained there for a few seconds before removing herself and taking another piece of the dried meat into her mouth. Feeling the contents in his mouth, he instinctively swallowed, the processed food easily going down his throat. He sighed in relief and he looked at Gretchen. She took another piece of meat, chewing at a fast pace. A few more seconds and she wordlessly moved back down and her beak was inside his mouth. This time though, hers was more open and her beak was near his lips. She passed the food once again, the meat effortlessly going into the back of his throat.
Gretchen removed herself once more, allowing him to consume the next bit of food. She was nursing him like how a bird feeds its young. Silverwing would have a laughing fit if she ever saw this. Gretchen was silently chewing into the dry meat, seemingly not bothered at what she was doing. Though he didn’t know what to make of it. In a way it felt more like kissing, although between two different species. He looked up at her, seeing how she does not seem fazed by this. She did pause, however, when her eyes opened up to look at him.
He didn’t realize until now that the tears that were built up in his eyes had started flowing freely.
Gretchen resumed eating a few tiny pieces of the meat, and after a moment of silence, she lowered herself once again, giving the food to him once more. Quicksilver allowed her and offered no resistance to her nurturing care.
Three raps upon a wooden post made Gretchen aware of her surroundings, and she lifted herself up to the noise.
“Come in,” she said, a bit of meat hanging off her beak, though she was quick to take notice and cleaned herself. Quicksilver, slightly dazed by the sudden intrusion into his mouth, raised his head to see who was entering.
“Ah, he is awake,” a familiar raspy voice spoke.
“General?” Quicksilver said, watching the leader walk towards him. The general looked tired, from his unkempt feathers and bleak expression. However, he still held a smile when he saw him. General Quill moved to Gretchen’s side and placed a claw onto her shoulder.
“You’ve been ensuring his care?” he asked. Gretchen nodded and gave a warm smile to her uncle.
“Yes. Felix entrusted me to his care. He’s healed quite well over the past few days.”
She did shove her beak in my mouth, Quicksilver thought. The images never leaving his head.
Possibly for the rest of his life.
“That’s good to know. I hope Felix was able to heal most of his injuries,” he said, casting a concerned gaze over to Quicksilver.
“He said he would be here soon to help in the healing process,” she said. General Quill gave a knowing nod.
“Please go fetch him. I want to ensure that our guest is healed and properly at full strength,” he said, Gretchen bowing her head to him before turning to leave. She did stop, however, with a mournful expression on her face.
“Uncle, I am so sorry,” she said. General Quill turned to her, and his expression changed to a saddened stare. Gretchen stepped forward and lowered her head until her head brushed against his. He did the same, raising a claw past her neck and wrapping it around her head. The two had their eyes closed, and Quicksilver watched the tender moment between them.
What did you lose, General? Quicksilver wondered, watching the two separate and Gretchen leaving them in the tent. Once she was gone, it was only the two of them that remained. General Quill gave a tired sigh staring out at a blank space, and not directly at Quicksilver. He waited for the general to say something, anything to start a conversation. He instead was silent, a heavy breathing was all he heard.
He looked at the general and noticed a little more detail on his countenance. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had bags under his eyes. Possibly he was sleep deprived for a number of days. Most of his pristine feathers were more ragged and dishealved. He also took notice that the general was twitching, his claws being the most visible and shaking at a considerable rate.
Whatever happened these past few days had changed the general.
“Ge-general?” he said, breaking the silence between the two. General Quill blinked once and looked towards him, the saddened expression remaining on his face, but gave a small sad smile to him.
“Ah General, you… um...” He tried to get the words out but couldn’t.
“I know. I look terrible, don’t I?” General Quill said, giving a soft chuckle in between.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” he said, to which another small laugh escaped past the general. The general looked to his right, trying to take a steady breath.
“It’s fine if you say that. I’ve had a lot on my mind to keep me up at night,” he explained.
Quicksilver gave him a curious look, but also with some concern.
“What happened, General? What happened while I was out?” he asked, the general giving another laugh before turning to him.
“Where do I even begin?” the general said, the sadness already showing. Quicksilver raised his right hoof to him, albeit only a few inches due to the cast.
“Just take it slow,” he said in a calm voice, while General Quill gave a tired sigh.
“I guess I should start at the beginning,” he said, drawing a breath to continue.
”Of all of the meticulous work that I had to endure over my many years of service, trying to convince an army of twenty thousand to stand down was no easy task.”
“You convinced them all to stand down?’ Quicksilver asked. General Quill, on the other hoof, remained unmoved.
“I didn't say that I was successful. Only partially,” he said, to which Quicksilver lowered himself back down, feeling crestfallen over the general’s words.
“My brigade and I traveled north a few hours from here to a staging area for where the king planned the next invasion,” he said, his monotone voice never changing pitch. “When I arrived, the army was preparing to leave within a week. I walked among the mass of soldiers, and many of them were young recruits. Either barely finishing their training or not even close to performing drills and basics. I hate to admit it, but some were pitiful excuses for soldiers.”
The general turned his head, his gaze not focused on Quicksilver. “I went to the high command, and it turned out that it was none other than the king himself.”
The king was there? Quicksilver blinked in surprise.
“The incompetent king told me that they had waited for me, and that I would be leading alongside him in the fight to come. I told them that I wished to not be in the assault or leading the two divisions into combat. King Bronzeclaw had commanded that I would be leading the charge to retake the city of Prancy,” he said. Quicksilver remained silent but confused by the generals demeanor.
“I needed to get to the bottom of the situation, and the king was not fond of giving out his invasion plan. I went to one of the company captains by the name of Buck Wing. He was a Noble, and was not fond of the invasion. I asked of him of what the invasion had planned and why Bronzeclaw had ordered so many young recruits into the fight. He told me everything, everything that is needed to know and how it sickened me to my stomach. I hated myself for not seeing what King Bronezclaw had in store sooner.
“He was going to send the youngest recruits into the fray. They would be used as a meat shield while the advance soldiers would flank upon the sides.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “There were over five thousand recruits. Ten thousand and twenty five hundred regulars and along with half of the Elite Guard was just less than the quarter of the army. Can you imagine that? He would have send our young boys into a slaughter while his Elite Guard would reap the rewards in claiming the city.”
Quicksilver remained silent, watching General Quill's anger slowly rise.
“After Buck Wing told me the invasion plans, I gathered all of the captains of the army. I urged them and begged for them to listen to reason and that this plan was suicidal, not only for endangering the youngbloods and destroying the future generations of our nation, but how treacherous the winter has brought upon the land.
“A few of the older bastards, a majority of them Nomads, laughed it off, saying I was a senile old fool and they promptly left me. However, I did manage to persuade a few of the Nomads and convinced many of the Nobles who listened to reason. Over the few days of negotiations and compelling arguments, the number of captains for me reached to twenty. With the captains at the side, I confronted the king, explaining the folly of this plan, and how the army will be doomed by the ruined walls of the city of Pracny.” General Quill closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and fumed in frustration.
“The king wouldn’t listen to me, nor to the voices of the other captains.The King, in his good ‘graces’, decided to set an example to the captains that disagreed. By taking every tenth gryphon in each of their company to be executed.”
Quicksilver’s eyes widened, and he hadn't realized he held his breath while the general continued.
“The captains who had followed me were forced to watch as they brought twenty gryphons out in front of them. In decimanation, their comrades mercilessly and brutally beat, then executed them. My fellow Nobles could not bear beat their own brothers, so the king ordered the Nomads to beat upon them. Clubbing, stoning, breaking off their wings until they were nothing but a bloody pulp.”
General Quill paused, starring off to wall of the tent, lost in deep thought.
“Those poor young souls. Forced away from their friends, did no wrong, and above all committed no treason. They were all chosen at random and they all had such bright futures ahead of them. I can still see their faces, all wondering why their time had to come so soon. It was a travesty that their futures were taken from them and they couldn’t fulfill their own dreams.” A single tear went down his face, Quicksilver seeing the general face wince in pain. He took a moment to compose himself, placing a claw over his eyes to wipe away the tears.
“After the young soldiers were killed, the captains who followed me, seeing the madness in the King's heart, still remained loyal to me. After his brutal display, he would kill anyone else that had any thoughts of disobeying orders or desertion. I went to the captains and I convinced them to bring as many of the soldiers who were were willing to leave. We were ready to take flight, but most of my Razor Claw brigade had to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that the king's wrath would not befall us.
“At the start of the war, my brigade had numbered four thousand strong. Today, my Razor Claw brigade was reduced to only a small battalion of seven hundred.” He paused, shuddering at what he was going to say next. “Five hundred of my best warriors and brothers volunteered to take part of the assault on Prancy, while the rest of my brethren remained with me. The King was pleased, and didn’t seem to notice when the captains and I made our escape after staying a week there. We rested in the mountains and watched as the King and the army departed for Prancy. The army was so vast that even the clouds and storms parted from their wake.”
General Quill was silent for a time, letting the words settle and allowing Quicksilver to comprehend it all. He couldn’t imagine the pain the captains went through. Or the lives of the ones taken in such brutal fashion. To top it off, the King was directly leading the entire front straight to the heart of Prancy itself. If he recalled correctly, the Defenders of the Equestrian Army and her allies had around ten thousand soldiers stationed at Prancy, with thousands more scattered around the borders. It took Sharp Beak and his group to travel within three days with little to no breaks. Who knows if the Mad King was already besieging the weary defenders?
“How… how many did you save?” Quicksilver asked. It was a honest question and made General Quill stir from his stupor. He turned to him, looking at him as if for the first time. General Quill closed his eyes and cleared his throat by drinking from a small wineskin on his belt. After finishing his drink, he gave a deep sigh.
“Roughly three hundred and twenty soldiers were convinced to follow us,” he explained. Quicksilver lifted an eyebrow. “However,” General Quill continued, “that was merely a fraction of a single percentage, compared to the thousands that remain in his army,” he said, causing Quicksilver to look away. A gloom hovering over the general’s mind over the many other Gryphons that didn’t join him.
For a time, the two were silent, lost in their own thoughts.
“Quicksilver,” the general spoke his name directly. Quicksilver eyed the general, and saw that he was staring at him. “Tell me, is it true that you mentioned a number of names of Gryphons that were killed by Sharp Beak?” he asked. Quicksilver was unsure about the question that the general asked. When he didn’t reply the general took a sharp intake of breath, and his words came out slower than before.
“Tell me. Among the names that you spoke of, I was told that one of the names was Franz Stormcloud. Is this true?” he asked. The last few words were slow and heavy as bricks. Quicksilver blinked at him, confusion was in his eyes at why he picked that name.
“Yes, that name was on the list,” he said slowly, and immediately General Quill stifled and he turned his head away for a brief moment. He remained that for a few seconds and he soon turned back to Quicksilver, tears streaming down his face.
“Tell me. (Sniff) For a grieving father. Tell me how my son died.”
Quicksilver’s eyes widened when he mentioned his son, he never knew he even had one.
“He was your son?!” he said, astounded. The general nodded to him.
“Yes. His real name was Franz Quill. Yet he decided that he wished to be a part of the war, changing his name to Franz Stormcloud so as to not reveal himself. I got onto him, yet he was determined to serve in our army. I allowed him to stay, yet I forbade him from participating in major clashes, but he always found a way to get into the thickest fights. Oh, my Red Tails,” he said.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It was a small nickname I gave him, with how vibrant his feathers were. Now I’ll never be able to utter those words nor see his body knowing he’s gone.”
The clear emotion that was spilling out of the general only showed the pain of a father’s loss. Quicksilver had recognized this grief before. It’s painful when telling the parent or sending a letter to the guardian that their child had passed away. But now, laying there in front of the general, he couldn’t help but bear responsibility for his son.
He was there to witness his death after all.
“Are you sure, General? I mean, I didn’t know that he was your son,” he cautioned, unsure of how to proceed at first.
“Please, tell me what you know. I just want to know,” he replied, the tears still visible. Not wanting to keep any secrets from the venerable general, Quicksilver sighed and gave the full truth to him.
“I was held captive during my time under Sharp Beak. He and his lackeys would capture fleeing soldiers and he would demand what position or task they did before they deserted. Afterwards, he would kill each individual in different and horrifics ways. For your son, his crime was not only deserting his post but for not killing two guards and a filly in a sewer. I said that he would not raise a blade to a innocent, so he never fought against the guards. I can only assume that it was both of my personal guards that I had sent on patrol. His death was...” he stopped himself, unsure how to continue to speak. The general, however, had a worried look on his face, wanting to know.
“His death was by execution. Sharp Beak and his minions shot him full of bolts,” he said. General Quill took a shuddered breath. The general’s composure collapsed and he raised both of his claws to his face. His head lowered and a soft cry was heard. He remained like that for several seconds, his breath uneasy and a few painful sobs escaped past him.
“He died by doing what’s right,” he said, through each breath. “He died a true Noble, defending what we value most.” He continued to shudder, the mighty general reduced to a sorry state, but it was not pitiful nor was it showing any weakness.
It was a father’s loss over his child.
The general’s crying lasted for a few minutes, his emotions spilling out in the room. Quicksilver turned his head, a feeling of regret reaching into his stomach, knowing what he said was causing his grief.
Yet he knew it was right. Telling the truth was easier to say then to hide behind a lie. After another minute passed between them, the general rose his head once more to look at him.
“He was my only child, you know,” he said in his grating voice, his tears still flowing. “I know that after the loss of my sister and leaving her children with me, I wanted all of them to live in peace.
“For Ebon, Gretchen, and even Deadyeye,” he said, to which Quicksilver nodded. He had spent a good amount of time with them, and whenever he worked and saw the three together, he could see the bond the three had for one another.
“With my true born son gone, they are all the family I have left. I know they worry for me, but I fear for them more then they imagine. Everyday, I can only imagine what fiend would do something that would cause them pain or even do harm against them. They all look up to me as their uncle, and yet, I imagine them more as my own children. A fatherly figure,” he uttered, looking up to stare at the flat of the tent.
Quicksilver looked back to him, unsure as to what to say. A small thought came to his mind, something that even related to his family.
“General Quill,” he said. The older Gryphon turned to him, the sorrow still visible on his face. “I wouldn’t know the pain your going through, yet I can relate to it. My sister Silverwing, she is all the family I have left. There’s not a day that goes by that I worry for her and make sure that she is okay. Even though she’s my older sister, I still have concern for her as she does with me. Even after our parents were gone, we still had our life tough for us, yet we manage to push on. We looked out for each other throughout this war, and we both wished nothing more then to have a peaceful life ahead of us. I’m sure that once this war is over, that they will have a peaceful lives ahead of them,” he said, hoping his words would ease his broken heart.
A small smile came up on the General and he placed a claw on top of his hoof.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Quicksilver. I do wish that dream to come forth, and that much rapport can happen between our people,” he said, lightly patting on top of the hoof before returning to his side.
“There is one thing I wish to ask,” he added, Quicksilver remaining all ears to the general.
“Was there anything that Franz said before he died?” he asked, bringing up another painful memory within Quicksilver’s mind.
“Well, I do recall him speaking his mouth off over the Colonel and that of the King. But he did speak much about the Gryphon Empire before the war. Its greatness, its people, the unity between them before it was taken over by its pride. He was shot first by Sharp Beak and he nearly collapsed by the first shot. But he raised himself back up and his last words were more noble then anything I ever witnessed.
“He said, ‘Long live sacred Gryphonstone!’ before he was killed.”
General Quill blinked at him and his small sad smile turned into a proud one.
“Even in the end, his heart was for that of our people. A father couldn’t be more prouder,” he said calmly. His tears soon ceased and his composure was slowly returning to him. Feeling the need to say something, Quicksilver cleared his throat to speak once more.
“If you don’t mind me saying, General, but you look like you could use some rest,” he said.
The old bird chuckled at his remark before a gloom hung over him.
“Over twenty thousand soldiers are heading to Prancy. I managed to save only three hundred and twenty from certain death. I also lost my only son to a traitor's claw. I don’t feel much like sleeping,” he said, letting his grim words hang in the air. Quicksilver was silent for a full minute, allowing their words remain in the air. There was nothing much to say after hearing the amount of pain that was shared.
“General Quill?” Quicksilver broke the silence between them. “What has become of Sharp Beak? What will you do with him?” he asked.
“Colonel Sharp Beak will be put on trial for his crimes against his fellow Gryphons. He will answer for his war crimes, not only for the city of Prancy, but for her citizens too,” he explained. Quicksilver nodded to him, but took notice of his stern expression. He heard his claws clench together and he could see a the old Gryphon’s brows narrow.
“Although,” he said coldly, “when I learned that it was him that killed my son, I wanted nothing better then to pin him down and to beat him within an inch of his worthless life,” he finished, taking a deep breath and returning to a calm state. Releasing the rip from his claw, he tapped the wooden post of the bed a few times.
“Guard, you may send him in,” he said, turning his attention back to Quicksilver with a small smile. “There is somepony who wishes to see you,” he said, taking a step back and allowing Quicksilver a full view of the entrance. A moment passed and the guards pushed open the entrance, allowing a deep midnight blue stallion to enter inside.
“Nightshade Moon,” Quicksilver said, the thestral looking up and giving him a wide smile.
“My friend, you're alive!” he said, speaking in his native Prench. The thestral quickly moved over to his right side, his hooves clasped around Quicksilver’s right hoof. “I thought you died. I thought you left this world,” he said, his eyes tracing over Quicksilver’s battered body. Quicksilver coughed and shook his right hoof in between his.
“I managed,” he replied in Prench, coughing slightly. Nightshade nodded to him, bearing a toothy grin.
“That was very brave of you, mon amie. You steeled against your foe even when your body would splinter from the strain.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you survived through all of that,” he said, bearing an astonished expression.
Quicksilver only chuckled at his remark. “Will take lot more than that,” he began to say, but ended up coughing. He felt Nightshade’s hoof pressed against his chest, and he saw the thestral had a concerned look on his face.
“Please rest easy, mon amie. You need your full strength in the coming days,” he said, going to his side and pulling on a small bag from his belt. Quicksilver watched as he fiddled with the bag and brought it towards him. He loosened the thin string and unpocket a small stone.
It was the very stone the young colt gave to him a long time ago.
“How did you-” Quicksilver began to say, but Nightshade placed the stone in his hoof. Quicksilver eyed the stone and saw a slight difference to it. A small string was looped at the top of the stone, forming a necklace of sorts. Confused, he looked at his thestral friend who only gave him a smile.
“Gryphon hen, Gretchen, found this in her tent. She gave it to us and we fixed it for you.” He paused, patting the stone before slipping it over Quicksilver’s head, the stone resting comfortably on his chest once it was secure. “This stone is a special heirloom, belonging to our family for many generations. We wouldn’t give it freely unless the gifted has done good deeds to my people. As long as you wear it, it will always bring good fortune.”
“I can’t take this. It’s too precious to you,” Quicksilver said, but Nightshade shook his head.
“It belongs to a pony who has given everything to ensure our safety. Keep it, mon amie,” he explained. Quicksilver lifted his left hoof and placed it onto the stone. He saw the symbol on it and how it reflected in the light. A thought soon occurred to him, and he turned his attention back to the thestral.
“Nightshade. What do you mean I need to save my strength?” he asked,wondering why he had mentioned that.
A bright smile formed on his face and showed his toothy grin to him. “General Quill has given me and my people enough help to care for ourselves. He also agreed to allowing us to leave once the storms have cleared. When that time comes, we can take you to Prancy and reunite with your kind.”
Quicksilver blinked at him in surprise. If he had strength left in his front hooves, he would be hugging all the air out of him.The thought of returning home and reuniting with his sister gave him hope that soon he would be back to his own lands. However, the army of the king would be there, and he had no doubt that if he reached the city, it would end up being in a blockade.
Thinking on the matter, he thought what General Quill thought of it. He eyed the General, who had sat silently listening to the two of them. He could have picked up some of the words they’d spoken, but he largely remained silent and respectful.
A knock at the front entrance of the tent alerted the three, and Gretchen poked her head inside.
“Uncle, Felix is here and ready for orders,” she said, before disappearing back outside. With that, Nightshade stood up from his position and brushed himself off.
“Nightshade,” Quicksilver said, drawing the thestral’s attention. “For what it’s worth: Thank you. ”
Nightshade smiled brightly to him. “Get your rest, Quicksilver, you have much rest to catch up on. Sleep well, Mon Ami.” With that, he then turned to the general and gave a humble bow. “Ami De la Nui.” (Friend of the night.)he said to him.
“Bonsoir ami des cieux,” (Goodnight friend of the skies.) General Quill replied, placing a claw on his forehead and then giving a small bow in return. Quicksilver blinked in surprise by this, and wondered just how much Prench the general actually knew. Nightshade smiled at General Quill for his remark and turned to walk out of the tent. Once he exited, both Gretchen and Felix came inside.
The two Gryphons approached General Quill, giving Quicksilver a good look at Felix.
The Arch Gryphon still wore a bandage around his right shoulder, although there were less cloth since the last time he saw him. He looked tired with heavy bags were under his eyes. However, despite this, he still gave a warm smile when he looked over to him.
“Ah the prodigal son has awoken,” Felix said, going over to his side and placing a talon onto his right hoof. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness or slight nausea?” he asked, checking out his wounds like a apothecary.
Quicksilver chuckled at his little inspection. “I’m doing fine, Felix, just tired. Though my wings are killing me and my jaw is sore,” he replied, returning the smile back to him.
“That is good. I was informed by Gretchen about your jaw. I think I can think of something to fix it. Your wings, however, have been gravely overused. Though you should be proud for what they endured. You broke the record by fifteen minutes, surpassing the five hours and fifty minutes, ” he explained.
Quicksilver blinked in surprise; even though he went through Tartarus, he still managed to beat the old record. A faint smile graced him and a small chuckle emanated from him.
“That will be something to tell my kids,” he said, giving a soft chortle even though it hurt his sides. Felix nodded, and he turned his gaze over to General Quill.
“Are you fine with me performing more magic on him?” he asked. The old general nodded in approval.
“Do what you must, Felix. Our equine friend must be at full strength by the time he leaves,” he said. Felix acknowledged his order and began to do his work. General Quill came to his side, a small smile present on his countenance.
“General Quill, am I really going home?” Quicksilver asked, with hope in his eyes.
“Indeed you are, once you have been healed. With Felix’s magic, you should be able to move about within the coming days,” he explained. Quicksilver sighed in much relief, resting his head back onto the pillow as a result.
To finally go home, to finally return to his lands. To be with friends, and to be reunited with his sister. It was a dream that was finally within reach. He closed his eyes and imagined the things he would do first when he would first arrive.
“Now Quicksilver,” Felix began, looking upon his wound while holding his leg up with his talons. “The treatment I will give you will help your mobility. It also will possibly restore your wings.”
Now that is a bit of good news, Quicksilver thought, happy to note that his wings could be mended after so long.
“However,” he mentioned, lowering Quicksilver’s hoof down. “I can’t guarantee that your wings will be in full working order. They will need rest and time. Can’t be strained over any strenuous activity,” he explained.
“Well, that won’t be to hard,” Quicksilver replied.
“Indeed. Now, the most important thing here is that you will be put into a trance if not full sleep as you undergo treatment. Your body will need to be the sole focus as we mend both of your legs and to restore your wings. After that, we shall focus on restoring your primary and secondary feathers, and to ensure that you...”
Quicksilver didn’t pay attention to the rest of what Felix had to say. He turned his attention to Gretchen, who was conversing with her uncle. The old General had relayed something to her, and her eyes widened slightly from what he told. She then wrapped her arms around him in a hug, her uncle returning it in kind. Quicksilver could only watch them, but a small smile was present on his face.
It would seem a small measure of peace finally came between them over what they had learned.
“...During your state of slumber, you will not have to worry about intaking of food. Gretchen had told me that she shall be nursing you and ensure that you are sustained during your healing,” Felix finished, drawing out a few crystals from his belt and began rubbing them together, a soft blue aura glowing around his claws as a result. Quicksilver blinked by his statement and turned his attention back to the Arch Gryphon.
“What do mean by nursing? You mean like hoof feeding?” he asked. His question caused all three of the Gryphons to look at him in mild confusion.
“Well almost different, Quicksilver,” Felix explained. “Like how small birds feed their young, Gretchen will be ensuring that you will be provided through… why are you making that face?” he asked, noticing how Quicksilvers expression had changed from calm to slight aversion to what he said.
Quicksilver then turned to Gretchen and blinked a few times in uncertainty. “So you mean when Gretchen was kissing me earlier and passing food to me, that’s actually a thing!?” he said, causing the three to blink in surprise. General Quill lifted a bushy eyebrow to his niece, a small smirk present on his face, while Felix remained silent but trying his best not to smile at this. Gretchen had a clear blush on her face and kept looking about trying to avoid the attention brought upon herself.
“It’s not called that,” she said, looking away in embarrassment. Felix merely chuckled and settled his aura-filled talons onto Quicksilver’s head. He felt a strange sensation course through his body, and he felt heavy from the touch. His eyes began to fade out, and sleep would soon overcome him.