Musty and dusty as rays of sunlight pierced the windows and the open air of the large library. Columns could be seen on the outside concrete porch, establishing the literary institution as a classical one, complete with grand and wide steps.
Bookshelves tall and endless to the casual reader, they were filled with numerous books that held, in their collected and total span, infinite reams of information, of history, of tales told whether to many or to few. Some were dusty, some were clean, some were in between. Stairs on the side led to another floor of more bookshelves which themselves contained their own open secrets within the book bounds. All of this was complemented with a crafted fragrance that smelled of books.
It was also a quiet library.
The mare on the counter had a pair of glasses and a bored expression on her face as she observed the two creatures chattering in front of a row of bookshelves. Somber was the griffon as could be seen in the downward face of hers; caring and hopeful was the changeling as could be seen in his slight smile and half-open eyes that focused on Galena's demeanor—which was of solemn walk and slow turnings of the head.
It was still quiet.
"So, what are we doing here now, Galena?" Thorax asked in a hushed volume.
"Find anything," Galena answered, her voice choked as she sharply faced away from the changeling for a second. "There's a storm of ideas in my head: a play, a painting contest, a competition with the dragons, perhaps re-inspiring us griffons by borrowing some of the history books here." Looking at the librarian still appearing bored—accentuating that with a big yawn—she then said, "This is how bad things have gotten. We can't even hold on to our own history—we have to thank the cute, 'naive' ponies for preserving our written chronologies. You've seen our library—or, what was left of it, anyway." Grabbing a book and examining it with a rotation of a claw, she became silent, her gaze falling upon the cover.
Thorax became silent, too, not making a step forward or backward or anywhere else; instead, his gaze was also falling upon the elegant cover.
On the cover, within an intricate and detailed frame, was a historical depiction of a griffon standing on his two hind legs; his wings were spread out and he balled up one of his claws as he looked upon somewhere in the distance with a triumphant air about him, having on his attitude the character and the background of a proud and domineering creature that belonged to an old time of chaotic conquest.
Galena opened the book, flipping through the pages.
Illustrations of griffons in squabbles and fights over bunches of gold and other riches. Illustrations of that king—"That's King Grover?"
"Yes," Galena replied, retaining that somber tone.
Illustrations of King Grover in magnificent form and fashion as griffons stood in awe of and in attention to him. Illustrations of a healthy and prospering Griffonstone: clean and swept paths filled with griffons in arrays of gold and other precious metals as their ostentatious yet modest displays of clothing wealth, whole and full houses at the bottom on the solid yet mountainous ground and at the top on the perilous yet apparently safe nests at the tips of the natural massive tree-like structure behind the foreground, all under a sky that had a bit of orange which made it unclear whether it was a sunrise or a sunset. The griffons in the illustration looked haughty and their smiles weren't exaggerated or even very obvious; several of them had their heads looking upward with their eyes closed; some griffons talking were quite happy as could be seen by the curved beaks.
Galena skimmed through the book, the pargraphs and sections being drowned in the rush and in the flurry of the pages yet the illustrations stood out when they did appear even for a brief moment before they went away under to give way to the next page which, too, would go away as quickly as it appeared.
Then, she closed the book with a loud thud.
It echoed throughout the entire library.
A sigh from her.
Returned the book, gloomy face and eyes closed.
"You've had it easy, Thorax," Galena said, not looking at him as she looked at another bookshelf. "Your days of prominence are still here, just in a different form. Back then, you were a hive that was successful in stealing love—and, you weren't successful all the time, but we griffons faced that, too, even in the greatest of times. And, now, you're successful in sharing love and you're getting even more fame for that—the image of the curious, inquisitive changeling who can harness raw imagination with a child-like attitude and outset. The ponies love that kind of disposition, but I don't care what the ponies have to say about you—you and the rest of your kind are what I care about now." She turned around—her face still as somber-looking as before. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? All of you, really. And, it took you guys less than a year to be this happy, to be this stable and prosperous. You're all content with what you're doing and you want to do more than just that." She gave a little smile. "That's something I want to see in our home." The smile went away, returning to that gloomy face. "But, it's getting hopeless."
"You don't have to be hopeless, Galena," Thorax said. "We've seen each other before, and I know that you're the griffon who can do the job!" He said this with a sense of optimistic cheer as he extended a hoof.
"Pony customs are getting to you," Galena replied, brushing off the offered hoofshake and sounding concerned yet mostly still sad. "I've been in my post long enough to know when a statement is said honestly and when a statement is said just to 'encourage' me," Galena said. "Speaking of pony customs, the Princesses have continousuly sent us aid in many forms—which is already astounding when you think about our...uneasy history."
Thorax gulped.
"But, that's in the past—we just don't want to talk to anyone else in general." Galena looked away, flapped her wings (though with gentleness and quiet as she also eyed the other books around her, her face having a bit of trepidation), and grabbed another book. After landing on the floor, she placed the book on a nearby shelf and went on: "Isolating ourselves is what we've been doing while we gobble up all that Equestria's given us for decades. And, for what? Decades of foreign help and the end-result is a Griffonstone that's only slightly better."
Balling up a claw, then relaxing it, she faced Thorax and said, "Ponies are avid about helping others and that's something admirable. But, they may not be the brighest when it comes to how they help. It's only recently that the Princesses realized the reason why just sending resources to Griffonstone wasn't helping: it's all being hoarded up into our personal stashes and we end up exchanging only a little. We might as well have lots of gold in our homes yet we're still in terrible conditions because we're just not that selfless enough. I also have my own personal stash, but I would like to say that it's modest compared to the amount of riches my neighbors have gathered through the years."
Sighing once more, she said, "I guess what I want to say is: What worked for you is not gonna work for us. You went the route of accepting as much help as you can from the ponies and turning that help into something that you and your fellow changelings can call your own. Good—it works for you since you now want to do good. The want is there for you changelings—for us griffons, it isn't so." A pause, a moment of tense silence between the two while they themselves were between the bookshelves. "It's not going to be so easy for us as it was for you—it's something deeper than just not wanting to cooperate. I coordinate with Gilda and Gabby and Greta and a few others to try improving Griffonstone with friendship which I have finally accepted as truly magical, yes, and that it can—no, will do wonders for us—but it's a slow path to go through, with what intense resistance we're getting from almost all sides of griffon society. The older ones telling us that it's been the way things were done so 'Why change it up?' and the younger ones being uncomfortable with the additional work that they have to do in order to bring about a better Griffonstone. Add to that the international and foreign aspects of my being a representative of Griffonstone, and it just makes any ordinary griffon more stressed than usual." Another pause as she looked upon the changeling. "The Princesses of Equestria and you, Thorax, have made it more tolerable for me. But, Dragon Lord Ember and Prince Rutherford, among others, aren't giving me such an easy time.
"And, that's it, I think." Opening the book but still facing Thorax—now looking at her with a sadder expression—she said, "I've told you all I could think of about it. Thanks for any help you'll be giving, but just know that Griffonstone will take a long time to get up from its long night."
She sighed, closing her eyes.
Thorax took a step forward.
He gently closed the open book.
"That was...brave of you, Galena," Thorax said. "Well, not really that brave since we're both leaders of our respective homes and all and you could freely talk about that and—"
"You're not helping, Thorax," Galena shot at him, giving him a glare.
"Whoops! Uh, sorry!" He shrunk back, wearing that sheepish smile.
Smiling a little and placing the book on the shelf again, she said, "It's always nice to hear a complement. Which I don't get that often unless it's from the friendly griffons I've already mentioned and several more."
Thorax smiled, too, though more widely and placed a hoof around her neck and brought her closer. "Happy to help!"
Galena sighed, keeping that smile, and just rolled her eyes at the gesture.
"If you're not going to spend your time reading books, then I advise that you please leave!" the librarian hollered from behind the counter.
Thorax's and Galena's went wide open, their smiles becoming faces of shock.
Outside the train's windows, one could see the expansive landscape once again of what lay beyond Canterlot—that included the small village of Ponyville with its dainty and quaint houses and the tall and shiny Castle of Friendship that stood out from the rest of the relatively humble houses. Rolling fields of grass with rows of apples trees on the hills in the distance, the Sweet Apple Acres property not really so far away in view.
The blue sky was dotted with clouds—not too many. It was enough to decorate the sky, to embellish the sky with a graceful beauty that a moderate amount would give. Some pegasi could be seen in the sky, moving about and travelling or fixing some of the stray clouds, making sure that they were in their proper places and they they would properly bring that graceful beauty to the sky.
All of this was accompanied by the low rumble of the wheels, though the passengers did not mind. Instead, they went on talking to each other, reading their books and newspapers, sleeping and napping and dozing, watching the wondrous visage of the outside through the clear windows, eating and drinking whatever food and drink was on their hooves, observing the interior of the carriage and seeing what the other ponies were doing—even in a 'small' passenger carriage, there was a flow of activities that hastened in the otherwise still and static room.
The smell of freshly cooked food permeated the air, causing more than a few heads to turn round to where it all was. Plates of chocolate cake and steamed carrots along with some bags of chips and bottles of water were being carried by trays levitated by the unicorn servers in their fancy—but, not too fancy—outfits. Several went out of their way—which meant out of their chairs—to get to the food quickly, though they were stopped by the stern faces of the unicorns, warding any impatient pony off from an early opportunity of getting food. Meanwhile, the ponies who had waited for the servers to get there got what they were waiting for: food and drink from the train's staff.
"Look!" a foal yelled, pointing at the window beside her.
Most of the ponies looked.
Rainbow Dash flying right in front of the window, flapping her wings and keeping up with the train. She was waving at the passengers, bearing a confident and big grin.
"It's Rainbow Dash!" some shouted, others murmured as many went up from where they were to the windows on the pegasus's side.
Gasps were let out, faces were brightened and lightened—turning into smiles of joy and giddy enthusiasm and excitement. Several waved back at Rainbow Dash as she did a few aerial tricks of her own right in front of the window, all the while still keeping up with the train.
Then, with one more wave, she flew away, her figure approaching Ponyville.
And so, many of the passengers went back to their seats, now energized by talk about what just happened—the noise inside the carriage became, truly, a noise as the passengers discussed back and forth about how unexpected the event was.
"I really didn't expect Rainbow Dash to be here," Galena said to Thorax who were the only ones occupying the row of seats they were on. "Does she do that to every train she comes by?"
"I haven't been on these trains a whole lot, so I can't tell," Thorax said, shrugging. "But, it's always awesome to see Rainbow Dash fly by when you least expect it!"
Galena nodded.
Then, she gasped, looking behind Thorax's shoulders.
"Gustave, is that you?" she asked, raising her voice and standing up.
Gustave, carrying a tray of eclairs and muffins, stopped. "Yes, Galena," he went on in that fancy accent, "it is I, Gustave." Bringing up a slight smile and walking towards her, still holding the tray, she looked at her and the changeling king in front of her. "And, I zee that you have brought your changeling friend with you. I do not remember offering him my undeniably delicious delicacies yet, but serving food to a king is no light matter for it is usually à grands frais." Striking a bigger smile, he looked at Thorax and gave him a tray. "Whether I have met you before directly or indirectly, it is my hope that you will enjoy, above all, these eclairs that I have created myself!"
Galena smiled as she grabbed one.
Thorax, smiling, grabbed one as well.
"I would like to stay and engage in chat with you but, enfin, there are others awaiting my baked goods!" He even pointed a claw upwards.
Then, he went away with that haughty way of walking, still holding a tray with his wing.
Galena's smile departed from her face, returning, once again, that reflective look of half-open eyes and pouting beak. "That's Gustave le Grand for you." She placed the delicacy on the seat, beside her.
Thorax observed the motion.
"His home is, technically, Griffonstone just like most griffons. But, he doesn't visit that often, if at all for some months."
"Hard work?" Thorax prodded, leaning closer. "Tight schedule? Overtime at the job or something like that?"
"It's not any of those things," Galena replied. Looking off into the green landscape past the window: "Being a rising chef in the culinary world of Equestria isn't that demanding. The reason he's been away from Griffonstone for so long is because he's grown...let's say grumpy and sour, to say the least."
"But, he enjoys being here!" Thorax said, protesting, pointing a hoof at the hatted griffon with the mustache—he was engaged in casual chat, adding in a few fancy expressions here and there which made the ponies incline their heads here and there in a bit of perplexion before they just went on nodding and accepting the chef's offers. "Or, at least that's what I see."
"He does enjoy being here," Galena said. "He doesn't enjoy being at home."
Thorax looked at the griffon, bearing that solemn face not too different from Galena's.
"Yes, it's what I've talked about with both you and the Princesses before," Galena said. "I find something interesting there between you and us—you changelings were crazy over everything pony; we griffons have seen it on both in the news and right in front of us. But, when those of us went over to Equestria and saw what was beautiful and great about it, do you know what a lot of them did? All but did away with their home altogether to make a new life there. The occasional return is the mandatory one—visit family once in a while before they go off back to Equestria in a house that has more than one floor and equipped with all the necessities of a pony house along with a few more. And, who could blame them, really? What opportunity do they have in Griffonstone? Gilda is happy with making scones but she's the exception rather than the rule—and, even then, she used to be unpleasant about it."
Thorax was silent amidst it all.
"You might think I'm just rambling on, that I'm just using you as a way to tell someone else my ordeal and the ordeal of the rest of us griffons. And, maybe you're right, Thorax." She closed her eyes, sighed once more, and opened them, making a sharp glance at Thorax. "Does it matter, though? Like I said before, I'm desperate. I have those three griffons and more helping me out and maybe—just maybe—Griffonstone can become what Pinkie Pie promised: that it can become grander and greater than it ever was before with the magic of friendship." She paused, looking off again to the window then quickly turning back to Thorax. "I believe them. But, the journey isn't going to be easy and I know it and, well, I need your help, Thorax, in any good way possible."
They looked at each other, the landscape becoming slightly different as Ponyville was nearer and nearer. The grass was now level to the train, the far away greenery that spread to the horizon and blanketing the ground with its decorum now right there, just a few meters away close to being within reach had there not been a window and a wall between pony (or griffon or changeling) and the outside.
"You know that I'm always there to give you and the griffons a helping hoof," Thorax said, adopting that cheerful and happy tone, his eyes widening along with his smile as he also, with energy, moved around with zest as he talked. "If you need anything, just ask me or Pharynx!"
Galena smiled at that, though she did not say anything.
"So, I'll take that as a 'Yes'?" Thorax smiled even wider.
"Well, I did say that I was deseprate," Galena said, still wearing that hopeful smile. "And, I always accept everything that you give because we can find a way to make it contribute to helping Griffonstone."
Thorax extended a hoof.
Galena eyed the hoof.
She shook it with her claw.
And they shook hoof and claw.
They were both smiling.
"So, Galena, remember to keep on hoping for the best," Thorax said as they ended the hoof/clawshake.
"And, I hope that you also learned that it's not always the easiest of paths for everyone, Thorax," Galena said.
They were still both smiling at each other when Thorax looked at the eclair beside the griffon. "Uh, aren't you gonna eat that?"
Galena's eyes went wide open in surprise. She glanced at the eclair—it was stil sitting there in its whole, complete form. She chuckled as she brought the delicacy to her mouth. Then, she consumed it.
Thorax chuckled, too, before he ate his eclair.
Galena wiped her mouth free from any chocolate or crumbs. "Ah! Just as I remembered; Gustave hasn't lost that genius!"
Griffonstone—that weary and wearisome home of the griffons with its broken pathways, its broken houses and homes, its broken nests, and its broken inhabitants roaming about with permanent, fixed frowns that conveyed emotions from indefference to depression, from anger to apathy. Some sat on their nests and on the byways, mulling about something—one griffon spoke, "Who cares about these new projects? What's the use of them if I was OK without them? I didn't have to go to some weird new building to learn about this or that skill and to help make Griffonstone pretty, and I've held the great position of having the greatest hoard in Griffonstone!"
"So what?" another griffon, passing by, shot back in a gruff voice. "It's just sitting there!"
"I'm not going to spend my gold just to see griffons learn how to do what I think to be things that fledglings will learn in the normal course of time. Investing my money to teach them to fly? That's instinct, as far as I can tell!"
Another griffon joined the passer-by. "At least they'll be able to fly earlier!" Gilda said, using an even gruffer voice than the griffon beside her. "And, when we train griffons before they do the actual work, they'll do better than griffons who don't prepare themselves for the task. It's common sense!"
"What is the value of a few more or a few less hours in the scheme of this Griffonstone work?" the first griffon asked back.
"Lots," Gilda curtly replied, crossing her arms as she hovered over the ground.
The first griffon groaned, walking away from the two without even saying a word.
"Stiff," Gilda commented, facing the former passer-by. "Greta? Wanna report this to Gabby and Galena?"
"It's just one griffon," Greta replied, holding on to her gray scarf around her neck.
"One out of a million," Gilda shot back. Groaning in irritation, she flew off to the distance.
Greta followed.