//------------------------------// // The General // Story: Where The Heart Lies // by Broman //------------------------------// “There is the game, Sky Rider,” Talon Wing said as he readied his spear. Both soldiers, along with a number of gryphons, readied themselves around a small open clearing. Within it, they saw a dozen mountain boars in the center, all huddled together for the long night. These mountain boars were much larger than the ones living on the plains. Their meat was tough and had many nutrients, largely from the large variety of food they had eaten over the years. The gryphons had tracked the beasts for days now, and now finally had a chance to reach them. Sky Rider nodded, then motioned for the others to move. With that, the gryphon Nobles and Nomads began to close the distance to their prey. Their hunting party was sent out to gather much needed food for the winter. They had been hunting for at least a couple days, right after their pegasus prisoner was brutally beaten by Colonel Sharp Beak and his Nomad gryphons. It was strange, to both of them, that the pegasus would keep standing up, even after being pummeled down again and again. There was a determination in his eyes, and they could tell that he would not show any sign of weakness to the Colonel. However, what really stood out was when the pegasus told him down and Deadeye defended him. They could not imagine what prompted the old warrior to protect him but, in a way, they had earned their respect, if only a little. “I’m ready to move,” Sky Rider said as Talon Wing readied his spear, standing behind the foliage that separated them and their prey. Several of the boars looked up, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. Talon Wing knew this all too well: their sense of smell was very sharp, and they were smart enough to keep their guard up. Talon Wing looked over and nodded to Sky Rider, who readied a throwing spear. After a few brief seconds, Sky Rider hurled his spear toward the boar herd. The spear struck true into the side of one of them, and the other boars spread out in panic. The gryphons charged out from their hiding spots and attacked, easily getting upon the first half of the boars. The rest continued to scatter, creating large imprints on the snow as they ran. Their squeals echoed off the canyon walls as the gryphons descended upon the helpless prey. One by one, each cry from the boars was silent, and only a few remained “Don’t let any of them escape!” Talon Wing called out as he hovered above the ground, keeping his eyes on all of the boars. Talon Wing saw their numbers dwindle as the boars scattered in different directions. He then spotted a stray boar heading for the pass. Seeing the opportunity, Talon Wing swiftly charged at the escaping boar. Readying his spear, he lunged it straight into its back, the boar squealing out in pain before collapsing to the ground. He stood victoriously over his defeated prey and withdrew the spear out of the dead body, drawing blood as it came out. He looked about, seeing that the rest of the gryphons had gathered their game and all of the boars have been killed. “Alright lads! Let's take our prize back to base, and let's be quick about it!” Sky Rider called out. The rest of the soldiers let out various calls and grunts of affirmation. It took at least two gryphons to carry each of the boars while flying back to their base. As the last of the dead boars were gathered up, Talon Wing looked about the area. There were many shrubs and heavy thickets that surrounded him. They were large enough to hold the boars and keep them fed, but he also noted that they make good ambush points. He kept his eyes open and he felt the wind blow around him. Even after seizing their prize, he felt a certain unease in the air, almost as if he was being watched. “Talon Wing. You alright?” Sky Rider said as he approached his side. Talon Wing looked about the perimeter once more before turning to his friend. “It’s nothing. Just the wind,” Talon Wing replied as he flapped his wings and became airborne. “Let's make it back to the outpost. Our party should be there soon.” “Right. I’m freezing my tail feathers off anyway,” Sky Rider said as he followed, and the two made after their hunting party. “Hopefully we’ll come across our other hunting party and we can make it back in time for a feast,” he added. Talon Wing smiled. “I can already taste it,” he replied as the two took to the skies above. As they left the scene of the ambush behind them, they did not see a pair of eyes watching them take flight, and a sinister smile forming upon its countenance. **** Quicksilver walked down towards the camp from Gretchen’s tent. It has been several days since his punishment, and at least a week since he had been captive, possibly longer. All the winter days and nights looked the same to him, so he was uncertain of the exact time span. Thankfully enough, since his punishment from Sharp Beak, the Colonel was sent off once more along with several hunting parties. This meant he was more able to rest from his beatings and heal, but not without some extra labor. Since the Colonel's absence, he was given more tasks around the camp, mostly helping with the new building. Most of the time, he got things done without too much hassle, but that left him with absolutely nothing to do but wait for the next meal. Another thing that had him bothered was that Gretchen has been busy with other things as of late, and they only ever met at night to speak. She wouldn’t explain it that much, but she said that some gryphon was going to be returning soon, and that he was extremely important. Whoever this gryphon was, Quicksilver couldn’t have the idle and lively exchanges with her like they had originally done. The only thing that kept him company was his ever silent guard in his silver armor. He was not a conversationalist. What made it worse was whenever he moved around the camp, the silent guard always watched over him. If he ate, the guard was there. Wherever he moved, the guard would follow. He even waited for him whenever he had to relieve himself. The guard was on him the whole time, and he never had any time for himself. Even with guards stationed around the camp, they knew he wouldn’t get away. What made things more annoying is that the gryphon would never leave his side. In a strange way, Quicksilver felt that he was protecting him from the gryphons that would do him harm. He was not sure if it had to do with the punishment by Sharp Beak and the other Nomad gryphons, but the silent guard did annoy him to no end. Taking a small walk around camp with the silent bodyguard would be no different. “Do you ever talk?” Quicksilver started the conversation. His gryphon guard did not reply, as the many times he has done before. “I guess you don’t like to talk, or you've given a vow of silence?” he asked. Again, there was no reply, only the same grunt as before. Quicksilver rolled his eyes, his one-sided conversations not phasing with the taciturn gryphon. “That’s fine if you don’t talk. There are always others things I can discuss about.” He looked up at the silent guard, his golden eyes staring at him. The guard lifted one of his his eyebrows, and his purple feathers moved with him. The act made a slight shiver of menace creep up Quicksilver, and he quickly rerouted back to his ‘conversation’. “Anyway, you do remind me of an old friend I used to have back at home.” He looked ahead, desperate to avoid the gryphon’s glare. “He always loved to talk about things. No particular thing, just many...things. He even talked about getting married and having a wonderful wife and a large family.” He paused and looked at the silent gryphon. “Are you married? Got a family back home?” he asked as he moved on, his hooves crunching softly on the snow. The gryphon said nothing, allowing Quicksilver to continue. “I guess you have a family. It might be here in this camp, and the Royal gryphons are your brothers. You’re lucky, I guess; I never had any brothers. Only an older sister. She was always watching over me, kind of like you, I suppose. She always cared for and looked after me, even after when-” He paused and shook his head. “Sorry, getting off track. Anyway, with my friend, he was always spouting off a bunch of things, and he would never stop talking. It was funny, actually; he’d speak about one thing, then speak about another. Always yakking about his latest dealings or daily routines. Afterwards, I began giving him a nickname, “Yak”, since he was ‘yakkin’ his head off.” He paused and looked up at the gryphon. The gryphon made no emotion, having the same expression as last time. Quicksilver’s ears flattened and he rolled his eyes. “I guess jokes don’t work on you as well, nor does the name ‘Yak’ suit you. I guess I’ll just call you by another name.” He looked about for a moment, passing by a few gryphons as he paced in thought. “Would Defender or Warden work as a name for you?” he asked, hoping to get an answer out of the inaudible gryphon. Before he could get a reply, he heard a familiar voice come his way. “Ah, there you are, Fletchling. I was wondering were you were,” Gretchen spoke as she descended and landed in front of them. Quicksilver looked at her with an unamused expression. “I could say the same thing. I’ve had nothing do today after my tasks, but I have not been able to do much except walk around and have this silent bird follow me around,” he explained, to which the silent gryphon respond with a loud grunt. “He is not the one you should mind, Fletching,” she said, motioning her head to follow and began walking toward the center of camp, with the disgruntled pegasus in tow and matching her pace. The cold still hung in the air, but it wouldn’t be long now until night would fall, and then the chill would really come. For the past few days, the nights have been colder and the days grew shorter. Winter had already settled in, and it was going to be many months before spring would come to these mountains. And it might be many more before he would ever return home. “Alright, we're almost there. You should enjoy watching this,” she said as she moved toward the center of camp. Quicksilver rolled his eyes. Whatever the rest of the gryphons enjoyed watching would be something that he would not be interested in. As he continued to follow her, he began to hear a commotion on the other side of the large main tent. He knew that area was more open, so he could only wonder what was going on. As he moved closer, he began hearing loud chanting and numerous voices cheering on for something, as well as a loud smack of flesh on flesh. He looked over to Gretchen, who had a small smile on her face. He could only wonder what had her so cheerful. As he turned the corner, he witnessed what was making the ruckus. A rather large ruckus indeed. Four minotaurs were battling it out in a large circle with their bare fists, surrounded by roughly the entire garrison of gryphons. They shouted and cursed, placing bets on the strongest bull and completely engrossed in the fight. There were other minotaurs on the outside of the ring as well, but they remained calm and collected, watching their brethren fight and strike against each other. Quicksilver stood beside Gretchen, both watching the violent spectacle. “What is going on?” Quicksilver asked as the scene unfolded. “To you, it may be just a fight, Fletching. But to these minotaurs, it is a test of strength,” she explained, watching one of the bulls ram his fist into an unexpecting opponent and sending him off balance towards the edge of the circle. The orange bull that was knocked down quickly got back up and bellowed a loud roar that only made the watching crowd cheer for more. Spurred by the roaring crowd, the minotaur that was on the ground before charged again and smacked hard into his fellow combatant. “How can you stand watching this fight?” Quicksilver asked, cringing a few times whenever one of the bulls would sucker punch the other. He winced again when one of the bulls punched hard into the others head, making him spin once before falling to the ground, his body unmoving. “Well, let's just say that this is our form of entertainment. We got nothing to do during the winter other than to work and freeze our tail feathers off. The minotaurs, however, have a little ritual every now and then that helps keep our spirits up.” She paused and turned to watch one of the bulls charge his horns into another one, sending both tumbling onto the ground. “Whenever they fight, they fight for their honor or prestige. Namely, those who stand out in the fight or the last few remaining can earn respect among their peers. The minotaurs take these rituals very seriously.” “All this for the sake of honor?” Quicksilver asked, watching of the bulls throw a punch directly into the head of the downed opponent. “Exactly,” she said as the two watched the last two fighters in the ring. Quicksilver looked on as the final two combatants readied themselves in the ring, while the other two remained still, either unconscious or too weak to move. The last two bulls, one a deep blue and the other a light brown, squared off with one another, their large arms positioned at an angle in a combat stance. For a moment, neither side moved, their fury and battle rage ready to be unleashed. Quicksilver could only watch as the two massive bulls circled each other, nearing a climactic fight that would only claim one winner. Suddenly, the bulls bellowed out, and the two charged until they clashed, both throwing punches and kicks into their opponent. “Now this is a good fight!” one of the gryphons called out. “Crush him!” another one screamed, and more resounding roars of approval came after from the rest of the garrison. The two bulls kept pushing on, smashing their fists into one another. Quicksilver could hear the resounding whacks of bone on flesh as the two giants traded blows. After a brief minute of the tussle, the two sides thrusted their appendages outward and clamped together. The two then butted heads (literally), the blow creating a loud clapping sound that echoed off the walls of the cave. The two were at a stand still, both bulls locked together in their battle of wills and strength. Quicksilver was stunned in amazement as the two brutes pushed, their arm muscles bulging as they tried to push their opponent back. The fighting was so fierce that he could see the steam coming off their hides in the cold winter air. “It’s nearing its end soon, Fletching,” Gretchen said, much to Quicksilver’s confusion as he looked at her. He looked back and noticed the blue minotaur taking a step forward, its massive arms turning slightly and making the brown bull struggle in his grip. Quicksilver watched as the bull took another hoof forward and then shoved his weight against the brown bull, making him topple into the dirt and snow. The blue bull untangled itself, then quickly seized over his opponent. What Quicksilver saw next took his breath away. The blue bull placed its large paws over the brown bull’s body and began to lift. He could see the muscles strain and turn as they lifted the brown bull into the air. The crowd gasped as the blue bull let out a roar as he carried the other bull over its head. Quicksilver gawked at such a feat; he had never witnessed such strength by any creature before, only now seeing it first-hoof with the blue bull holding his opponent over his head. The brown bull struggled to get loose, but the blue bull held him up. Then, as quickly as he brought him up, he slammed the bull back down onto the ground, shaking it with a loud rumble. The crowd cried out in awe, as well as a few notable number of groans from a few losing patrons. Quicksilver noticed a small number began giving out their losing bet to the winners. As the battle was over, the blue bull lifted his head and roared out in victory. He kept his bellow for several seconds before stopping all together. He then went over to his defeated opponent and handed one of its mighty paws. The brown bull, breathing heavily and in defeat, humbly accepted his companion’s gesture. Quicksilver watched in confusion as the bull was lifted up, and the two bulls helped their fellow fallen brethren. “I see that you are confused, Fletching,” Gretchen said as he continued to watch the scene unfold. When he didn’t respond right away, Gretchen continued. “Even though the victor has won, he still treats his opponents fairly. They have a strong connection within their warrior society, something that makes them continue to work together and ensure their weaker warriors succeed. It is something that even we Royal gryphons, who are are strong in our military might, cannot comprehend. It is an utter wonder to us how they stay so close as a unit, that they seem unbothered by what forces come there way. By nature, or by other means,” she explained. Quicksilver looked at her and gave subtle nod of approval. The minotaurs surely had their honor, it was best to respect them. “C’mon, Fletching. We have other things you need to do,” Gretchen said as she started walking toward areas unknown. Quicksilver snorted; he didn’t know why she called him that, but it was starting to get on his nerves. Taking a quick and collected breath, he spoke to her. “Hey, Gretchen. Why do you call me that?” Quicksilver asked, hoping to coax a question out of the hen. Gretchen turned to him with a confused look, raising a sharp eyebrow at him. “Whatever do you mean, Fletching? I’m not insulting you, am I?” she spoke again, although in a more patronizing tone. Quicksilver’s eyes narrowed, and he could see the little smug smile that Gretchen was pulling. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You‘ve been calling me that name ever since we met, and it's getting really old,” he explained as Gretchen kept giving him the same look. “Oh, don’t be like that. I think ‘Fletching’ suits you well. You're just so small compared to the rest of us,” she said, a hint of exaggeration in her voice. Quicksilver was not buying it. “For being small, I would probably be called a fledgling instead of ‘Fletching’, wouldn't you agree?” he asked, hoping that would shed some light on the subject. Gretchen only laughed and placed a claw over her eyes. Quicksilver flattened his ears at the sight. He could only imagine what he had said that would set her off. When her mirth subsided, she looked at him with haughty expression. “If I called you ‘Fledgling’, then you would be treated like one. You’d be a tiny little pony who we have to nestsit while you do nothing but eat, shit and sleep like all the common folk that you’ve come to know. Would you like to be called that instead and treated in such respect as well, Fletching?” she asked, waiting for an answer. Quicksilver was taken aback, unsure how to respond. Being called what he was was one thing, but to be treated like a young foal in a literal manner made him all the more skittish to think how they would treat him. When he didn’t speak back, Gretchen chuckled once again. “I see you understand the meaning. Besides,” she said, lifting her head to the side as if hearing something in the distance. He heard his silent guard grunt and Quicksilver noticed him looking up at the roof of the cave. “Calling you ‘Fledgling’ would be a dishonor, more than you being called ‘Fletching’. Now come, it is time,” she said, beginning to walk away. Quicksilver followed, although at a leisurely pace this time. He was unconvinced as to the true reason she kept calling him that, but he was at least grateful to be called something other than what she intended. If she did make do with her threat and called him by the other name, then he could not fathom as to how much ridicule and mockery he’d receive from the other gryphons. He was certain that Colonel Sharp Beak would have laughed himself to death for having him be called that. Quicksilver continued to follow after Gretchen, taking notice of her steady pace towards the very center of camp. As he moved, he noticed other gryphons, both Noble and Nomad, had begun to head to the same location as well. The area was more open, and it appeared it had recently been cleared of snow. He looked up at the roof of the cave, the snow casually falling down above them. Quicksilver wondered what was so important and he turned to his silent guard. “What’s going on?” he asked his silent guard, who didn’t even seem phased by him. However, he did give something that Quicksilver did not expect: a smile. “What are you…” he was about to say until he heard a deep and booming horn emanating from the roof of the cave. It echoed off the walls, reverberating all around him. He looked up, seeing some of the snow fall from the roof of the hole and land harmlessly to the ground. He kept watching, waiting for something to come; instead, he was greeted by the same horn noise as before, only closer this time. He looked to Gretchen and saw that she had a smile on her face. It was something that he had seen before, but it was different kind of smile this time: Not being boastful, arrogant or even fake. Instead, her smile was genuine, heartfelt and had a caring look about it. It was the same kind of smile that he had seen when she helped the Thestrals the other day. “The Grand Razor Claw Brigade is descending! Make way! The General has arrived!” Ebon’s voice called amongst the throng of warriors. The name struck a chord with Quicksilver. He recalled the name and its importance. He doesn't mean that general! Quicksilver thought as he looked toward the open cave and began seeing figures descending down. A dozen gryphons in silver plated armor began gliding down from the upper cave entrance. As they came down, the nearby Noble gryphons began to cheer somewhat, although a number of Nomads stood silent and watched as the group descended. He could see that they had no love for their general compared to the Nobles. He could count at least four dozen or so guards descending down into the camp, lining up into rank and file and standing at attention. He kept his eyes peeled, trying to find the elusive general among the ranks. Soon, the entire group came down and they all stood at attention, their silver armor reflective from the nearby fires, and their halberds standing tall above their heads. Soon, Ebon came forward along with Gretchen, standing by the new warriors. Quicksilver watched as the new arrivals moved aside, and a single gryphon marched out from the pack. Quicksilver’s hunch was indeed correct. The general’s fur was a brown color, and his feathers were pure white with a deep blue around his also-blue eyes and the tips of his feathers. However, he had a scar running down the left side of his eye which was pure white, although a hint of blue remained. He was a little smaller than the other gryphons, but he probably was as big as Gretchen. He had a purple and gold cloak around his body, and Quicksilver could see the old silver armor that he wore had seen plenty of war. On the front of the armor was a sigil of a gryphon's claw. The famous General Quill of the Gryphon Empire had arrived.