//------------------------------// // Chapter 25 // Story: Hegira: Option Gamma // by Guardian_Gryphon //------------------------------// The morning routine in Tih’ré Seli’hn began before dawn. Wrenn could have slept in, but he’d made a note of asking about his status as a Knight over dinner, which had lead to Siidran inviting him to observe the changing of the city guard at sunrise, which in turn meant that he needed to be up and about just before dawn. He had left his window open all night, bringing the temperature in his room down to what he guessed was a balmy fifty degrees. The fire was still smouldering from where he had banked it before nesting down, and he jabbed it with the poker until a small flame sprang back to life. He hoisted the window back to a closed position, to trap some of the heat, and treated himself to a quick navy-style shower. He dried himself as quickly as possible over the fire, then turned to the armor rack before remembering that he hadn’t been issued any gear. Strapping on weapons and armor in the morning was such an ingrained routine that it almost felt wrong to go out without them. The sun’s light was just beginning to brighten the horizon, and the stars were winking out. Wrenn opened the window again, and spread his wings. He didn’t have a lot of practice hovering, but it was easy to get the general hang of it. He held his spot outside the window, and re-raised the solid crystal pane to the locked position. No reason to risk an afternoon rain shower soaking part of the floor. He noted with approval that there was a release clasp on the outside as well, and it only took a moment to memorize the position of his window in relation to nearby features of the city. Siidran had told him that changing of the guard was always held on the concourse, which was the proper term for the large landing pad outside the great hall. The two guard towers, great hall window, and the concourse itself together made up one of the most visible landmarks of the castle, and they were quite close to Wrenn’s room, so it was pure simplicity to glide the relatively short distance. The actual guards themselves changed positions seamlessly, with the old guard standing by at their posts until the new shift was in-place. The ceremony was only attended by the watch commanders for each quadrant of the city. There were eight quadrants in all, which meant sixteen Knights would be present. The old watch commanders would pass off ceremonial halberds, each bearing a variation on the city’s emblem, to the new watch commanders. To hear Siidran tell it, the spectacle was a masterful display of choreographed military parade maneuvers. Wrenn, to his relief, was early. He found Siidran, complete with his usual ceremonial armor, standing just outside the entrance to the mountain, gazing off at the horizon. The king heard him coming, and pulled himself away from his thoughts, offering Wrenn a small smile, “Good morning. I trust you slept well?” “Like a rock.” Siidran chuckled, “Good. You have a string of long days coming. Kephic and Varan said you didn’t wish to be eased into anything, so I’m obliging. After the changing of the guard you have breakfast with the old guard division, then you’ll be taken to the training grounds and put through the tests for your chosen specialization.” The King’s eyes gleamed with a touch of mischief, “Assuming you can pass without having properly prepared, and I have faith you can, then tonight you will be formally inducted into Knighthood, and then we will show you the meaning of the word ‘feast.’ Are you ready?” Wrenn smiled, “If I wasn’t, I certainly wouldn’t say so. I prefer to learn on the job rather than pass up difficult opportunities.” Siidran laughed outright, “You won’t have any trouble fitting in here. Not one bit.” They weren’t given a chance to continue the conversation. Silently, so silently that Wrenn almost failed to notice them, the eight new watch commanders filed out of the corridor behind him, in two lines of four. The eight Knights took up a semi-circular formation on the concourse, facing outwards and standing stock still. Wrenn noticed that the King had taken up a similar stance, reminiscent of military attention, so he did his best to replicate the formality. With equal silence, the eight old watch commanders descended to the concourse from above, arriving from eight equidistant points of the compass, ceremonial halberds in-claw. They landed at precisely the same moment, in the same exact fashion, resulting in each old watch commander facing each new watch commander. All sixteen, still without a single word exchanged, switched to standing on their hind legs, to a position Wrenn thought looked more like a combat stance than a ceremonial pose. The eight Knights with halberds broke the silence, speaking in tandem, “Are you prepared to shoulder the defense of our home?” The eight new watch commanders replied, “We are prepared.” Siidran’s voice rang out alone, “Then prove your readiness.” Without warning, the eight halberd wielding Knights ferociously engaged the other eight, who went from being ostensibly unarmed, to having swords and defensive stances faster than Wrenn thought was possible, even for a Gryphon. As he watched, fascinated, the eight new watch commanders engaged in identical, rehearsed ceremonial duels with the eight old watch commanders. While the moves were obviously pre-determined, and second nature, to both parties, the weapons were sharp, unprotected, and real, as were the apparent attempts to violently harm each other. Wrenn realized the ceremony was more than mere symbology; The only way either party could escape without serious injury was to be in top physical and mental shape, and to be exceptionally quick witted and agile. The changing of the guard was, in fact, a very real test. If one could finish it without injury, one was ready to take over the city watch. If not... Wrenn didn’t want to think about how badly those halberds could maim a wing, or a foreleg with even a glancing misplaced blow. The weapons were so covered in tapered sharp edges, that it seemed like an exercise in skill to merely hold and use one without doing bodily harm to self, let alone avoiding it from the receiving end. Wrenn realized that each watch commander had to do this twice in a day, once on each side of the duel. The identical fights were soundless, none of the weapons ever impacted each other. Each combatant was simply too far ahead of the moves his opponent was planning for either to ever actually lock weapons. The battle went on for nearly two minutes, which was an eternity at those speeds, before ending in a perfect standoff. Siidran spoke again, his resonant voice rebounding off the side of the mountain, “You are indeed prepared. The watch is changed, may fair winds grace your wings.” One by one in sequence, the old watch commanders flipped over the halberds, and passed them, blade down, to the new commanders, who in turn flipped them right side up, and launched from the concourse to join their platoons. The old watch commanders marched in formation to the mountain entrance, stopped, waited for three seconds, then disbanded. Wrenn stood in shock. The display of prowess had visually underscored just how much he had left to learn in order to make full use of his new body’s potential. The revelation was daunting. Siidran grinned dangerously, “Don’t worry. Your own test won’t be quite so trying. Not that you should relax just yet either. I warned your instructor that you have significant previous martial experience.” Wrenn made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a snort, “Wouldn't be any fun if it wasn’t difficult. Besides, how else will I learn to be that good, if not by pushing myself.” “Well said. Auric!” At the sound of his name, one of the old watch commanders turned. Siidran beckoned him over, “Auric, this is Wrenn. He is the new convert. Would you please see to it he gets a morning meal, and finds his way to the training grounds afterwards?” The sorrel and yellow Gryphon nodded, “Of course.” He turned his gaze on Wrenn, “Welcome Wrenn, and well met. I’ve already heard some interesting rumors about you...” Wrenn reached out and grasped his proffered foreleg, “Well met. That was quite a duel...” Auric smiled, “You approve? I hate to brag, but at this point it’s second nature to me.” Siidran inclined his head, “I’ll see you this evening Wrenn, and I expect to see you with a Knight’s sash.” Gryphons, in lieu of having much in the way of clothing, wore ceremonial sashes when they needed to display rank, or awards. Siidran turned, as if he were ready to leave, but paused, “I’ll make you a wager. If you succeed then we draw out a tankard of the best Heather Meade tonight for you.” Wrenn smirked, “Make it a cask, and if I lose I owe you one.” “Done.” With that, Siidran took flight, presumably to oversee whatever was next on his royal to-do list for the day. Auric raised an eyebrow, “I do hope you realize he will hold you to that cask if you fail.” “Yes. And I will hold him to it *when* I succeed.” Auric chuckled good naturedly, “Excellent answer. Come, I will introduce you to our section of the guard, and we’ll get you something hot to eat.” Auric led Wrenn down to a dining hall adjacent to one level of the castle’s barracks. All the way down, he peppered Wrenn with questions about Earth, his Conversion, and how he was adjusting to life as a Gryphon. The dining hall itself was half the size of the great hall, and filled to bursting with Gryphons seated at three long wooden tables. Smells of food hung in the air, thick like smoke, and Wrenn realized with a start that he was famished. Auric smacked his fisted claw against the nearest table, producing a booming noise that drew the attention of everyone in the room, “Everyone! This is Wrenn. He is the new convert you’ve been hearing about. Make him feel welcome, and find him something to eat!” Almost instantly, Wrenn found himself besieged. He had a tankard of something that smelled like orange juice shoved into one claw, and a bowl full of a hot grainy substance with two links of pork on the side, into the other. The mood was welcoming, and more than a little rowdy. Everyone wanted the chance to ask a question, or see him take his first taste of what he later learned was oatmeal and sausage. There were a few disquieted glances, and distrustful expressions mixed in, but overall Wrenn was engulfed in a familiar atmosphere of military camaraderie, but at a level he had never experienced before. Wrenn found himself wishing he had more time to share the morning meal with the old night-watch; For once he actually felt like branching out, meeting new people, swapping stories and sentiments, and being truly social. However, as soon as he finished downing his second orange juice, Auric was at his side again, “Time to report to the training grounds. Get enough to eat?” Wrenn nodded, Auric smiled, “Good, you’ll need it. Lack of a midday meal is part of the test.” Auric escorted Wrenn back out of the mountain. When they reached the concourse, they took to the air. The training grounds were across a canyon, to the west of the city, within visual range of nearly any tower with a good view. Auric led Wrenn to one of the outbuildings, which was constructed partly of carved wooden beams and had an almost modular appearance, as though it could be reconfigured for different exercises and purposes. As he landed, Wrenn took a moment to examine the main feature of the grounds, which was a flat circular field two hundred yards in diameter surrounded by monolithic upright slabs of granite. Each stone was carved with Gryphic script, artful designs, and faces which Wrenn presumed were monuments to fallen Warriors or past leaders. The slabs were tall, dark, and imposing. They were some of the most evocative monuments Wrenn had ever seen, and that included all the major memorials of Earth. As Auric led him into the main outbuilding, Wrenn gestured to the circle of stones, “Memorials?” Auric nodded, “They commemorate the greatest warriors of our history. Every time a stone becomes full, a new one is added and the circle is widened. It started with a single stone commemorating our first King, and quickly expanded during the first Diamond Dog Wars. More recently, the Changelings attempted an invasion. Two new stones had to be added in the same year.” The line of thought was sobering. Wrenn had heard snatches of information about the first Diamond Dog Wars during his orientation classes. He didn’t know much, but he gathered that Diamond Dogs were not native to Equestria, and when they had arrived centuries ago, some of their clans had done something that upset the Gryphons deeply. Whatever they had done, it was such a source of still-simmering anger, that neither Sildinar, Kephic, or Varan would discuss it openly. Whenever Wrenn asked, they simply gritted their beaks and growled. After that, the Diamond Dogs had only mounted a serious offensive on one other occasion. A group of packs banded together and tried to annex part of Equestria. The Gryphons had sprang to the defense of the Ponies, and decimated the relatively small, but deadly army so swiftly that it became known as the Weeks’ War. The two massive defeats were considered to be the main reason, to that very day, that Diamond Dogs had no central government, no cohesive civilization, and a fractured culture. The Troll clans which had drawn the Gryphons' ire had functioned as their species' primary governing structure for eons. Wrenn glanced at Auric, and decided to indulge his curiosity once more, “What happened during the first Diamond Dog War? No one seems especially keen to discuss it...” A new voice interrupted Auric as he opened his beak to answer, it was so deep, Wrenn thought he could feel the reverberation in his ribs, “You wish to know the tale of our most bloody war?” The newcomer was a thickly built jet-black Gryphon with deep green markings so dark that they almost appeared to be differing shades of black in the shadows cast by the building’s roof. He wore an unusually light stripped down set of armor, and carried not a sword, but a massive double bladed battle axe; The first of its kind Wrenn had seen a Gryphon wield. He nodded, Auric’s face took on a strange smile, “I’ll leave you with Brelik. He is the Veteran Paladin in charge of the training grounds, and it is fitting that you should hear the story from him. Good luck Wrenn.” As Auric took off, Wrenn turned to look at Brelik, “What did he mean by that?” Brelik chuckled, a deep unnerving rasp, “My father’s father fought in the First Diamond Dog War. His name, and face, are on a stone. Traditionally, we recount the story of a major war or battle to recruits who are about to take the field for their final tests. So I will recount the tale to you.” Brelik set off at a sedate walking pace towards the ring of stones. Unsure of his intentions, Wrenn followed. Brelik did not begin speaking until he reached the circle, and began a slow march around its perimeter. “The Diamond Dogs are not native to Equestria. Their species migrated here when our world brushed against theirs. There are several subspecies of them who tend to divide along clan and pack lines. There are the Lupines, who have long been friends to us but often keep to themselves in the far north wastes. There are the Vulpines, who inhabit brushlands to the far east, and sometimes trade with Equestria, there are miscellaneous breeds of all sorts....” He paused and gazed meaningfully at one particular stone, “...and there are the mongrel canines commonly referred to as ‘Trolls.’ By far the most numerous.” Wrenn stared intently at the stone, filtering out the script and designs and concentrating on the images, which he swiftly realized were a visual recounting of the story Brelik was telling him. He concluded that, as he'd suspected, the Trolls were the species he had faced in Carrenton, who reminded him of bulldogs so much. The black Gryphon continued, his bass voice seemed to fill the whole circle, and turn the blue sky a fraction of a shade grayer, “Many Trolls are greedy, and without honor. Their culture seeks power, above all through mineral wealth, and they were used to the high station of ruling all other clans and kith in their kind. When they came to this world, they needed infrastructure, and knowledge about the terrain. Rather than ask, and receive aid and free limitless stores of knowledge from the Equestrians, they decided to do what they do best...” He turned to stare at Wrenn, his golden eyes containing a fire so caustic that it seemed it would burst forth and consume the stones around them, “They decided to steal. They came to four of our outermost settlements, in the night... And they stole fledglings from nests. Their intention was to use them as *mounts*, and *slaves*.” Wrenn reflexively stiffened and growled. The concept offended not only his usual logical and moral sensibilities to the point of rage, but it awoke a fury buried deep inside the more animalistic part of his spirit; An all too familiar fury. He had a momentary flash of an orange Pegasus melting under his unyielding assault. Brelik needed very little emotion for the pitch of his voice to turn from intimidating, to truly terrifying, “By the time we were able to determine where they had taken our young, the Trolls had already slain them. They found out, at cost to the lives of many of their own, that even our fledglings are unbreakable free spirits. Nevertheless, we were not satisfied with the retribution of the dead taking so many with them.” Wrenn shivered, as the next stone came into view. The carving was clear in the morning sun; Stacks and stacks of Diamond Dog corpses piled, literally, to the sky. Brelik growled, “We smote ruin upon their species such as had not been seen in war since the reign of Chaos. Some of the Lupines wisely joined us, putting morals above blood ties, seeking freedom from their ancient oppressors. Even a few Dragons whom we called close friends answered the summons to war.” Wrenn stared in awe at the images, frozen forever in granite, a testament to the foolishness of angering a warrior civilization. Brelik, to his surprise, chuckled. The sound was a nightmarish exaltation of unthinkable violence. And to his mild astonishment, Wrenn found himself in agreement with the sentiment. “By the end of it, we lost many great warriors... And we had crushed *two thirds* of the Troll subspecies. Fathers, mothers, and any pups who were of age and desire to fight. None who at first fought were spared, even when quarter was later asked. But for the very youngest, and any who surrendered before battle was joined, we killed every living thing in every single one of their settlements, we razed every building to the ground, collapsed every mine, took every gem, burned every living plant, and salted the soil behind us.” Wrenn stamped a foreclaw, “Why didn’t we destroy their nation completely? A threat of that kind...” Brelik smiled, “You ask a common question. Celestia herself had to intervene. Her persistent pleas finally convinced us to stop short of totally obliterating their society, and sending it to the void. She made a noble, and true point about the value of life, and we agreed. While killing those who choose a fight is no conundrum, neither is the need to spare those too young to do battle, or unwilling in the first place. Since then, no race has dared to even idly suggest that we be kept as slaves. Even Dragons, who seem to have a love of thralls, know better than to try binding us. Their magic can not affect us, and attempts to impose their will in any other way would merely bring about another bloody war.” Wrenn shivered again, “Could we really go up against them? As a whole? Species to Species?” Brelik shook his head, “Against some, yes? All? No. But we will never have to. They are noble, and true, and they respect us, as we respect them. If they did not, we would rather die defending our ideals than sue for peace. But that is a future we never need explore. As for the Trolls, they have been a broken in-fighting mercenary culture ever since. We destroyed their only cohesive government, and in lieu of scattering them all to the winds, we wiped out all records of royal lineage so that none may ever unite their clans as a cohesive whole again.” The two Gryphons had reached their original starting point, Brelik glared into Wrenn’s eyes, “Does it put a fire in your blood Wrenn? Does it drive you to rage? fury? on behalf of your own?” Wrenn glowered, “Yes it does.” “Good!” Brelik smacked him, fairly roughly, to the back of the head, “*But!* See to it that you don’t lose control. Unbridled rage is the first step to failure on the battlefield. The tests I have laid out for you will not be easy. Make your warrior’s instincts, and your keen mind, master of your emotions. Fury should be burning coal in a bellows, not burning trees in an out of control forest fire. Do you understand?” Wrenn nodded. The worlds seemed to lift the imaginary storm clouds that had darkened the sky, and his mind, leaving behind clear blue; A simple pride in his species and a drive to defend his own. Brelik smiled, “Good. There are training weapons and armor here, select a sword, and gauntlets. You will have to earn the use of the rest as you complete each stage of testing. You will need at least a helmet to have any hope of surviving the final challenge. So fight hard.” In the course of retrieving gauntlets and selecting a generic unadorned training sword, Wrenn discovered two things; First he was the only Gryphon being tested for the day, and second that he would have to choose his specialization before beginning, as it would determine which type of bow he would have a chance to acquire. When he found out that Wrenn had only received basic training with an arbalest, Brelik offered him a chance to shoot both an arbalest, and a light Alarian bow before making a decision. The training grounds had an archery range, which consisted of standing at a waist-high marker stone, that doubled as a bench to store ammunition, and shooting at clay discs hung up across a canyon to the west. Brelik informed Wrenn that the total distance to the farthest target was forty five furlongs; A distance which Wrenn estimated visually to be between five and six miles, since he didn’t know the actual conversion units. The black Gryphon laid out the two weapons on the waist-high stone, along with several arrows for the light bow, and several bolts for the arbalest. The bolts were familiar to Wrenn from his initial practice with the larger weapon; Long, heavy, three inch thick shafts of solid oak, bound with steel and tipped with vicious looking barbs designed to make them impossible to extract without doing massive harm. The ammunition for the light bow, on the other claw, were something new and intriguing. Each arrow seemed to be made entirely of metal. Upon closer inspection, Wrenn discovered that the shafts of the weapons were hollow, allowing them to remain fairly light and use about the same total amount of steel as an arbalest bolt. Unlike the bolts, which relied on their momentum and the mass of the wooden shaft to penetrate armor and thus could afford a spiked tip, the arrows were sleek. Their tips were hard to discern from the shafts without close examination, not unlike a railgun round. They had no feathers, like a traditional arrow, but shaped metal fins with intricately carved veins designed to regulate the flow of turbulent air as it passed over the rest of the weapon, and impart artificial spin to the projectile. To reacquaint himself with the feel of it, Wrenn started with the arbalest, taking three experimental shots at four mile distant targets. The bolts struck true, obliterating the target discs with the force of their impact. Wrenn was once again impressed by the sheer level of momentum the arbalest could impart to its bolts, but the amount of time it took to reload the complicated weapon was a source of concern to him. Wrenn was used to fast-loading armaments, so he replaced the Arbalest after the third shot, and moved to examine the light bow. Whereas the arbalest, with its twin three corded metal cables, required anywhere from four to eight seconds to properly reset after each shot, Brelik informed him that a light bow, in the claws of a skilled Alarian, could be reloaded and fired accurately every three quarters of a second. The weapon was made of a flexible dark colored wood, bound with what appeared to be stainless steel in intricate, but cleverly engineered patterns. The bow could be folded, making it small enough to secure on one’s back along with a sword. The action of unfolding the weapon was easily accomplished with a flicking motion that snapped the two arms into place. The string of the light bow was corded steel, like the arbalest, but it was twisted differently, making it easier to draw. All in all, Wrenn liked the feel of the light bow, it held the promise of more flexibility and faster re-fire despite a slight decrease in range and an appreciable decrease in armor penetration. Brelik had to impart a few pointers on properly nocking an arrow, but after that Wrenn found the light bow surprisingly easy to use. It felt natural, and after his first three shots he made a test of expending his remaining ammunition as quickly as he could without losing accuracy. By the time he finished folding the bow, Wrenn had made his decision, “I believe I wish to be an Alarian. This weapon affords more flexibility than an arbalest, and I wish to focus on perfecting my sword training in the coming years.” Brelik nodded, “You show natural proficiency with the light bow.” He gestured for Wrenn to follow him back to the stone circle, “You will face four tests; The first three are designed to place you in difficult, uncomfortable, upsetting situations where we are usually at our weakest as a species. They become progressively more difficult with each victory. The final test will be a more general, but no less difficult test of your basic combat prowess.” Brelik gestured to a set of gear laid out in the circle. Wrenn wondered who had placed it there, but came to the conclusion that there must be more instructors there than Brelik. He wondered if they were even now hard at work setting up whatever trials Brelik saw fit to put him through. “With the first test, you will earn a chest-plate and back-plate. With the second, a helmet. With the third, a light bow and three arrows. You are at a disadvantage, given how little time you have had to work with our armor and weapons, and the fact that you have so little dueling experience. This will not be easy, and many do not expect you to pass.” Wrenn raised an eyebrow, “And you?” Brelik chuckled, “I do not judge until I have seen.” He looked to the left, and following his gaze, Wrenn saw two other Gryphons entering the circle carrying a black strip of cloth and two lengths of rope. Brelik looked back to him, ”You must allow them to blindfold, and bind you. You must not attempt to escape until they tell you the test has begun. As with all these tests, you will not be told anything about the nature of the trial you will face, nor will you be given instructions. You are expected, should you survive, to avoid telling any who have not yet passed these tests the details of their operation. Understood?” Wrenn nodded. As the two assistant trainers moved to bind and blindfold him, Brelik offered him a small smile, “Good luck Wrenn.” After that, everything was darkness.