//------------------------------//
// Nightmares and Giants 
// Story: Where The Heart Lies 
// by Broman 
//------------------------------//

Silverwing tossed and turned that night. No matter how much she tried to resist it, the dream that plagued her would not relent.

Silverwing was in the middle of a field, her small force prepared for an oncoming attack. She could hear the battle horns of the enemy, blazing across the land and deafening everything else. She could see a massive host, the same monstrous creatures that she had fought. They chanted and cursed, their horns and crude weapons bashing and clanging about. She could feel fear gripping at her heart, yet she was determined to see this through. Her forces were all prepared, but they were less than half of what she had hoped for. She could see that others had either fled for their lives or died from hunger and cold. She did not find any of her Cervine allies, nor did she see Brutus amongst them, thinking surely he would be fighting at the forefront.

A loud horn blasted once again, making her focus on what was in front of her. Her eyes widened as the horde of Yaks stampeded straight towards them.

“Hold!” she called out, trying to keep her soldiers morale up. But it was in vain, for they were petrified by the mass of bodies, charging towards their doom upon them. Silverwing tried to do what she could to rally them up, but no matter how many times she called out to them, they would not heed her words.

Silverwing readied her weapon, ready to face the enemy.

However, they were already upon them.

Darkness flew past her, threatening to sweep her up off her hooves. She held her ground, yet she could still feel the yelling and screaming as the yaks ran straight through her ranks, almost ignoring her altogether. After what felt like a full hour of charging, the yaks dispersed, and she found herself alone among the battlefield. She looked about her and saw her company had been killed off. Bodies of her fallen brethren were scattered, and some bore the same graffiti-like runes cut deep into their bodies.

“You like my work?” A deep voice vibrated around her, feeling as if an ancient evil was brought down upon her. Silverwing looked around the area trying to find the voice, but all she saw was the mist around her.

“Show yourself!” she demanded, raising her blade to the unknown being. The mist slowly dispersed around her, as a hot air swarmed around her from the northeast. She turned in its direction, seeing a large figure standing on a hill. It was silhouetted by the sun behind it, and she could easily see the large horns with thick piercings on each side. A thick beard came down its front, and shadow seemed to emanate off of it. As the beast stood there, it gave a low laughter, almost mocking her predicament. It soon began moving closer, heading straight towards her. She went to fly upwards, but found that she could not move. She looked down and saw dozens of hooves, grabbing at her and holding her in place. She struggled as her fallen comrades clung onto her, demanding and seething as to why they were set out here.

“It appears you have not witnessed my full potential,” the deep voice said, now standing right in front of her. She looked up and saw the beast, looking eerily similar to the one she had killed at the village. Yet its scars and wounds remained, revealing its deep cuts and gored wounds. She also saw that it’s head hung lower than normal, and half its neck was sliced clean through.

It was a walking corpse.

“Here, see this to ease your mind,” it said as he turned to his side, blood pouring out of its body and onto the snowy floor below. Once he stopped, he showed off a thick pelt. However, she noticed that it wasn't the same brown fur coat that it wore before. Instead, it showed a blue coat instead. It was similar to her own coat, and the more she stared at it, the more familiar it became. Her eyes traced along the cyan coloring, its fur growing larger and larger as she focused on it. It was then that her eyes laid at what was the rear of the coat.

“Brother?” she said in sheer horror and bewilderment as she laid eyes on his cutie mark, a sword pointing upward and wings going out on each side. She went from shocked to mortified, seeing her brother skinned alive and used as a pelt for this monster. The yak saw this, and a grin stretched across its face as blood poured out of its rotten teeth.

“See someone you love? You can join him...” the yak said, moving towards her with a large butcher blade in one hoof. Silverwing flailed about, trying to get herself to move, but the weight of her fallen comrades held her down as they continued to call out her name. She opened her wings to take flight, only to find that she couldn’t. She looked at her wings and found they were gone, and all that remained were two bloody stumps. Desperation kicked in, and she called out to anypony that would help her, even as the yak drew ever closer.

“Somepony, please! Help me!” she called out, screaming until her lungs could no longer give any breath. The yak was now over her and appeared all the more larger than ever before. He lowered his hooves and placed the butcher knife next to her neck.

It was then that she faced true terror, and she screamed once again into the darkness.

***

“Silverwing, wake up!”

Silverwing heard a voice nearby as she almost screamed out, though it was more like a whimper.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t bucking touch me!” she seethed, pushing her hooves outward and feeling though as she was still in a dream. She felt hooves clasp onto her front legs, and she scrambled back to get away. Yet the hooves persisted, and they clasped onto her shoulders. She backed away as far as she could, until she felt the cold tent next to her.

“Silverwing! It’s me, it’s me.” She heard Hammer’s voice as she felt hooves cup her cheeks. She fluttered her eyes to see Hammer staring at her, concern etched into his face. She looked about the room, breathing heavily and searching for anything wrong. Yet every time she looked around, she was guided back by Hammer and forced to look at him.

“It’s me,” he said again, softer this time. Silverwing kept looking into his blue eyes, seeing that it was him and not a dream. Her breathing lessened and her heartbeat slowed down as she focused on him. She felt a cold sweat all over her body, and she couldn’t stop shaking. She swallowed a lump in her throat and continued to breath heavy breaths, calming her nerves as she was comforted by his voice.

“Hammer, I… is that you?” she asked, almost scared to confirm if this was real or not. Hammer nodded his head, but looked at confused by her question.

“It is me, Silverwing. You were thrashing about in your bedroll, and I had to wake you up,” he said.

Silverwing was surprised. She never thought she’d ever have such a nightmare that she would not be able to get out of.

“I thought if you screamed any louder, you might of alerted the whole camp. Are you alright?” he added.

Her senses came back to her as she nodded to him. “Yes, I am alright.” She looked down at his hooves, then back to him. “You can let go of me now,” she said in a calm voice with her cheeks still in his hooves.

He blushed and quickly put his hooves to his side. “Sorry, I didn’t know where to grab you at first. I needed to get your attention, so getting you to focus on me was the thing I worked with,” he said as she settled herself down.

“Thank you for that, Hammer,” she said. She took a deep breath and sighed, although her body still shivered. She never would have imagined how that dream would give her such a fright. She thought it was almost certainly real.

An awkward silence permeated between them, both looking uncertain as to how to proceed. After an uneasy pause, Silverwing was the first to speak.

“Do you know what time it is? Has dawn come up yet?” she asked, hoping to start up some conversation.

“I’m not sure exactly, but if I had to guess, it might be close to six in the morning. Maybe a little later,” he said.

Silverwing shook her head. It was late when I went to bed, so I only had four to five hours of sleep, she thought, wondering as to how this might complicate things. If she was too tired to act, how would she be able to lead her men when the time came? As her mind wandered over the possibilities, she heard Hammer clear his throat.

“Silverwing, don’t take this to be rude, but I was curious: Where did you get that scar?” he asked as he pointed a hoof at her wound. She looked down and saw the scar. It was small, roughly six inches in length, on her right side. She could still seem to see the faded stitching that was there, yet the scar was barely visible. She never would see it, due to her cloak covering it; half the time, she would never even think it was there. Yet when he mentioned it, a distant memory clung to her heart and her ears flattened on her head. Hammer took notice of this and raised his hooves in defense.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to bring up an old wound,” Hammer said, trying to ease her. Yet she shook her head and gave him a understanding look.

“It is alright, Hammer. I’ve had this old scar for a long time. You have a right to know,” she said. She adjusted herself and cleared her throat. As she moved, she felt an audible pop in her neck and back, probably due from the cold. Once ready, she looked back at the scar on her side.

“I got it when I was twelve years old. Quicksilver was just turning eleven. We were still orphans, living about our lives and trying to survive this war. Back then, things were still hectic. Food was a luxury that nopony could get. As the war grew closer to home and refugees kept coming into the city, the city had to ration out the food, and everypony suffered because of it. When Quicksilver turned eleven, we got some relief at the orphanage. The head of the orphanage had earned enough to take us to one of the food storage, where the royal guard were only ones giving out the rations and essentials. Once we arrived there, both of us were excited and hoped for our first hot meal in a long time. But we weren't the only ones who wanted the food as well.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Hammer listened intently, his gaze not leaving her.

“As we waited in line, hoping to get the taste of some of the freshest goods, a riot broke out in the middle of the food storage. A number of ponies had claimed that the guards were holding food back for themselves, to which the guards quickly denied. Some heated words were said, and soon the mob of equines swelled and a fight broke out in the midst of them. My brother and I were ushered to the side of the room, and we could watch as ponies go after each other. I just could not believe the sight of them, watching them go after one another, all for the want of food.”

She sighed as she looked away, remembering the chilly reminder of what happened on that day, “The guards soon arrived in droves, breaking up the rioters and quickly getting things in order. However, they didn’t get them all.

“A large equine, can’t really remember who, was approaching us and he had quickly seized a knife and grabbed my brother.” She shuddered at the thought as Hammer continued to listen.

“You don’t have to continue on. I can get what happened next,” he said, trying his best to reassure her and not to bring up painful memories.

“No. Once I get going, I have to see it to the end. That is what I always say to myself,” she said as she cleared her throat again.  “As soon as Quicksilver was seized, he immediately placed the blade near his throat and threatened the guards that if he didn’t get the food, then he would kill him. I was begging and pleading with him to release him, yet he would not listen to me nor to the guards that surrounded him. I then became desperate and lunged myself at him. I was foolish and paid the price.”

She fell silent, and she looked away.

“Silverwing, I know this pains you, but if you must go on, then by all means. I’m here for you,” Hammer said.

She nodded to him. Taking a shaky breath and with her body quivering, she continued.

“I went to grab Quicksilver, but the equine turned his knife and stabbed it into my side. I fell back as if I was struck by a set of hooves. I fell on my rear, and I looked to see the knife in my right side. I could hear my caretaker’s scream and my brother was pleading to spare me. The desperate equine did not listen, instead he was begging to have a taste of the meal that was to come. I could only look on as the pain in my side grew.”

She paused, placing a hoof over her right side, remembering the pain that had remained. “The guards around us were calling out, and some wanted to rush in and save us. But the deluded Equine had his hooves around Quicksilver’s neck, and I could only watch as he was choking the very life out of him. When I saw my brother struggle in his grip, something just...snapped in me.”

Hammer looked at her with a uncertainty when she spoke, yet remained silent as she continued

“I grabbed the knife in my side, and with all the strength I could muster, I pulled it out of me. The pain was immense and the blood was everywhere, but I didn’t seem to care. With the knife in my hoof, I aimed it directly at the equine. I let a out a scream of hate as I rushed at him and stabbed him in the neck. We both fell to the ground, and the expression on his face changed so quickly. He was now begging for his life. I don’t remember how many times I stabbed him in the face until the guards had lifted me off of him. After I was removed, I passed out from loss of blood.”

Hammer was deathly quiet, his eyes widened in surprise and shock. She didn’t know if he became more nervous or if he was thinking about what had happened, but even still, he was the first she ever told of this. He looked away for a moment, likely in deep thought. Then, as if a spell has been removed from him, he quickly look back to her with a concerned expression.

“What happened after that?” he asked slowly.

“I was out for a whole week after the incident. The apothecaries say I was lucky to be alive, despite the knife nearly going all the way to the hilt.”

“And what of the rioter? What became of him?”

“Dead. He was gone after he succumbed to the knife wounds,” she said with little to no remorse in her voice. Hammer took notice of this and his ears flattened against his head. Silverwing, noticing his discomfort, took a steady breath to finish her tale.

“The guards who witnessed this claimed it was in self defense. Since I was too young to be prosecuted for murder, they instead decided to put a guard on us for at least six months to a year, to keep watch on me and my brother. During that time, I talked to them and grew up listening to their stories. Their talk of the war, their victories, how they saved lives and denied the gryphons from gaining any foothold in our lands. As soon as the probation ended and the guards no longer watching over us, I confronted my brother and said to him that we no longer needed to worry. We no longer would have to rely on others to help us out of our own misery. Instead of being dependent on others, we should help others and help others to do the same. That helping the families that have suffered in this war can be helped, and that they can one day care for themselves without the need of others. That is what got me to where I am today,” she said, while Hammer took in her tale.

He was silent again, and he looked off to the side as if in deep thought. He didn’t have the questioning look from earlier, yet she knew she told him the full truth, nothing more. For a moment he said nothing, but he then stirred and grabbed the cloak nearby and gave it to her.

“Probably best you keep it on… ah, you know, from the cold,” he said.

Silverwing gave a lighthearted chuckle. “I give you my life story, and you're worried about the winter outside?” she asked.

Hammer shook his head and gave a smile. “No, it’s not like that at all. Just making sure you’re okay, that’s all. But still,” he said, his expression changing and looked a little unsettled. “It does beg the question. Did you regret what you did?” he asked.

Silverwing shook her head ever so slightly. “I don’t really know myself. He threatened to kill the only family I had left in this world. If Quicksilver died and-” Silverwing caught her breath, not sure if she wanted to utter the next words. “...If my brother died, I wouldn’t know what I would do. Although you are right about killing him. The stallion was starving, wanting food just like the rest of us. Yet the first death that comes from your hooves, it never gets easy, especially when it's your own kind,” she said.

Hammer adjusted himself. “C’mon, Silverwing. You know when you make the right decisions. You saved your brother and that’s all that mattered. I’m certain that whatever outcome, you always manage to find a way,” he said.

She shook her head. “Make right decisions, make wrong decisions. Most of it is based on luck. Seems your luck can never run out,” she said as she grabbed the cloak to put it on.

“I won’t,” Hammer replied.

Silverwing paused as he uttered it. She gave a look to him, her eyebrows raised. He looked to the side as if embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, ah, Captain. I didn’t mean to sound like-” he began to say until she raised her wing at him.

“Silverwing is just fine, Hammer,” she said as she finished putting the cloak on her. Hammer nodded, feeling a bit reassured.

She then did something that he did not expect.

https://www.deviantart.com/dragonfoxgirl/art/The-Scare-Is-Over-Commission-714150071

Silverwing stood up and went over to him and gave a warm embrace both of her hooves wrapped around him. He blinked in disbelief, wondering what he did to cause this, but one thing was certain that he was not pushing back. A smile appeared on his muzzle and he instinctively place his left arm around her body, returning the gesture in kind. They lasted like this for at least a minute, all the while not letting go of one another. After another brief moment Silverwing withdrew herself and made she was composed.

“Well since I’m up, might as well make the rounds. Might have to leave soon when its first light,” she said as she went up towards the entrance.

“You do that. I’m going to get more shut eye,” Hammer said, rearranging his bedroll and wrapping his blanket as tightly as possible. Silverwing only chuckled as she went outside, but still had the long feeling in her heart of sharing her special moment with Hammer.

For all it’s worth, she needed somepony like him in her life.

The cold air was the first thing she felt as she exited the warmth of her tent. She quickly shut it behind her and observed her surroundings. The camp was quiet, only a sentry or two keeping watch, standing next to the warmth of the camp fires so that the winter's night may not claim them. She looked out to the eastern horizon and saw a faint light in its distance. No doubt dawn was swiftly approaching, and she would need to get the camp ready for when it was ready.

As she kept her gaze on the eastern sky, a smell began to whiff in her direction. She sniffed a few times, wondering where it was coming from. It was too early for the cooks to be making breakfast already, yet it was already fresh. She followed the smell, which lead to just outside the camp. When she rounded a tent, she saw the hunched form of Brutus, and a fire pit was made in front of him. She moved closer, and saw the dead husk of a rabbit on the spit. She noticed that he was placing seasonings on the rabbit, making the smell familiar from what she smelled before when she first saw him eat. She knew it was animalistic and hard to accept for an animal being eaten by another.

Yet, she just had to get used to it.

When she was close enough, she noticed Brutus’s ears turn in her direction and he turned toward her.



“Pegasus comes to see me?” he asked as Silverwing stood her ground.

“Yes, though I’m still not taking your offer in ending your life,” she said.

Brutus nodded to her, turning back to his own food. “That is good. Brutus no longer seek own death,” he said.

She blinked in surprise. Normally, his conversations would be that he would ask for his life to end. For him to deny it now is made her all the more curious.

“Was it because of the fight from yesterday?” she asked.

“Yes and no,” Brutus said as he took the rabbit and tested the meat by touching it with the end of it’s paws. “Brutus found a taste of vengeance. Yet Brutus now see as well,” he said as he placed the rabbit back onto its spit and let the warmth do it’s work.

“What do you mean?” Silverwing asked, approaching closer to his side. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, or it might be that she didn’t want to have her mind linger on her nightfright from earlier. Either way, she wished to know more about what Brutus had to say.

“When you and company left, I followed tracks. You lead to equine village, seen the death of those ponies. Diamond Dogs don’t go above ground much yet.” He paused as he grabbed his beads and began rubbing them together in his paw. “Yet Brutus realize that equines and dogs are same,” he said.

Silverwing listened to him, clearly wanting to understand more.

“Brutus’s kind is not trusted, and rightfully so. Diamond Dog befriend gryphon, yet gryphon did little to help. Dogs suffer from heartache and strife, clans scattered, packs missing, and families lost. Brutus thought that Brutus lost everything. Lost kin, lost pack. Scared, uncertainty, anguish. They filled my heart. When equine came, they lifted my tattered body and whose soul longed for peace. It was you who have made Brutus’s eyes open and ears sharp,” he said, while Silverwing remained intrigued by it all.

“You care for me when Brutus sought death. You raise Brutus up when all was down. Even when the world was against Brutus, you did not leave side. Brutus watch as you struggle, try to reclaim family, to be reunited. When Brutus watched at village, see you fight cloven one, you are same with Diamond Dog as we both have common enemy. That is why, when you left, that Brutus wished nothing more than to help equine not have same fate. Brutus fought as never fought before. It was a sweet taste, to fight back against cloven one,” he said. He turned back and stared at her straight in the eye.

Her eyes widened slightly, staring into his mysterious eyes. Before, she saw fear and anxiety when she first saw him. Now it seemed more calm and relaxed, like everything was alright with the world that he was in. In a way, it reminded her of a normal dog would act around others.

“Brutus help you as Brutus is able. Help Pegasus friend,” he said.

Silverwing couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I’m glad that you are wanting to help, Brutus. We’ll take any assistance while we are out in the wilderness,” she said.

Brutus nodded in approval. He went to speak again, but stopped when his ears turned to the south. He followed the direction and he was on alert, searching for something. Silverwing looked in his direction and wondered what he could be staring at.

“What is it?” she asked as Brutus remained silent. He took a sniff in the air and raised his head. He took another whiff in the air and he looked forward.

“There's familiar smell. Of the deer folk,” he said.

Silverwing looked at him curiously. “They’re cervines, mind you,” she said. He didn’t seem to pay attention. She looked out with him and didn’t see anyone, at least not this early in the morning. “Could be a scout that Strong Oak sent out. I’ve made certain that he scouts our paths ahead,” she said.

Brutus took another sniff of the air. “If that be true, why do Brutus smell more?” he said.
Silverwing’s eyes widened, and sure enough, as the sun rose from the eastern sky, a small host was coming their way. She saw the red and green banners of Cervine marching in column formation and heading straight to their camp.

A high-pitched horn blast echoed throughout the land, alerting everypony in the camp.

It wasn't long until the vast majority of her company was standing alongside her and the column of Cervine continued to march with them. She counted at least thirty of them maybe more, all marching in step, never missing a beat. The way they moved, the way their banners moved in the air, it was as if they were parting the cold wind around them. As she watched the spectacle before her, she noticed that Strong Oak had sidled up to her, a proud smile on his face.

“What does this mean?” she asked him.

The cervine proudly raised his head high. “That hope is coming.”

***

Six days. Six brutal days of hard labor. It was enough to drive a pony insane. However, despite the wear and tear on his body, Quicksilver managed to endure.

Ever since General Quill and his Razor Claw Brigade left for their important task, Colonel Sharp Beak had wasted no time in setting up his rules. He has imposed restrictions on food for thestrals, and he made them work throughout the day until the sun was set outside. Quicksilver was placed in the same position, forced to work and toil on moving the large amounts of lumber from the entrance to the new barracks that were being built. Everyday was a struggle, for he was given no breaks and little to eat. What made it worse was that the Nomad Gryphons that overlooked them laughed and scorned him, throwing piles of snow filled with rocks at him. He had cuts and bruises around his side and chest, and each step made his wounds sting from the pain.

Another thing that made his days worse was the fact that he was spending less and less time speaking with both Gretchen and Nightshade moon. For Nightshade and his people, it was getting worse as the days went by.

They lost four of their own, two elderly and two children. They couldn’t be allowed to mourn or to grief over the bodies, as the Nomads forced them to keep working. They had taken the bodies outside the cave to who knows where, but it was most likely just out of spite.

For Gretchen, it was a lot different. Normally he would see her around the camp, taking care of the necessary duties around the encampment. Nowadays, she was told to attend to the wounded in the triage. He would often walk by and watch her work alongside Felix, as they tended to the wounded and infirm. She would often work late into the night, and he would not see her until either he was about to sleep or when he has dosed off. But when he did see her, he saw the weariness in her eyes and her wings drooping to the side. On one of the nights, he even saw blood still on her claws, likely from treating with the still critical patients.

All in all, she was worse for wear, same as him.

As those days went on, he kept working and toiling with the barracks, taking back breaking loads of lumber to its destination, then later helping build the building while the Nomads watched. The Noble gryphons that were nearby helped in the process, yet none of the Nomads would dare lift a talon. He could see it sometimes in their eyes, the spiteful contempt for one another, more so on the Nomads. It appeared that as long as Sharp Beak was in command, they would not do anything to help.

To Quicksilver, Sharp Beak was misusing his authority. He abused his chain of command by going over the heads of the Noble gryphons and doing whatever it took to stay in power. In a way, Quicksilver felt that the gryphon was more like the mad king Bronzeclaw.

Although today was not all bad. He was given a small reprieve to take a small bundle of linen to Felix. It was a simple task, but he would rather do that than log lumber all over camp. He had made his way towards the triage and hoped for a chance to speak with them.

As he drew closer to the triage, he started to hear a voice. It was not one of moaning or strife, but more like a song. It lasted for a few moments before it softly mumbled off. As he came upon them, he looked about the area and saw that several of its occupants were fast asleep.

However, he also saw three at the end of the room. He immediately saw Felix, holding his book in his claws while Gretchen sat next to him. The third was a gryphon who lied on his cot, his head bandaged and his claws on either side of him. Quicksilver blinked once and thought that gryphon had passed, but quickly rejected the idea when he saw his chest move up and down. As he drew closer, the same hymn-like song was uttered, and he looked upon Felix as he sang.

“Oh sons, my brother, hear my plea now,” Felix began, his voice soft and his words slow. “Let my words be there to guide thee. Our Journey’s lead us through much heart heat ache, as we strive for… as we strife for…” Felix stopped his singing as he cursed under his breath, and his head lowered in defeat.

“Don’t stop now, Felix. You were doing so well earlier,” Gretchen said, her words trying to soothe him.

“I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just... no matter how many times I work with this song, I never get the right words. I’m the best at the beginning, but I seem to struggle when the rest of it comes in.”

“You’ve written this down, have you?” she asked, giving a raised eyebrow.

“Well yes, but this is still a work in… ah, Quicksilver,” Felix said, turning his attention as soon as he spotted him. “I see you brought some linen.”

Quicksilver laid out some fresh cloth on the table nearby. “Yes, I was just ordered to bring this here. It sure beats breaking your back over lumber or being consistently sneered at by Sharp Beak‘s goons,” he said.

Felix looked disheartened by this treatment. “I’m sorry to hear that. He’s certainly tightening his grip upon this camp,” he said.

“Felix, you saved my life from him several days ago. Why can’t you use your own authority to stop this?” he asked.

Felix shook his head. “It’s not that easy as you may think. I know I have my sphere of influence and the voice of the general, but I can’t risk unbalancing everything that has been done,” he said.

Quicksilver gave him a peculiar look, leading him to continue.

“Say if I were to apprehend him. What would his ardent supporters do? They would riot for their leader back and make demands. The worse case scenario is that they come for us and kill us outright and the whole encampment, including the Nobles who are still stationed here. I know I have my abilities, but I do have my limits. And on that thought...” he said, leaning in a bit closer so that he spoke in a soft spoken tone. “You are still a prisoner here. If you keep speaking more about this, then you might be considered special treatment over the thestrals, and that won’t be good on your conscious, will it?” he explained.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. He never did consider that possibility. Then again, Sharp Beak was one for making enemies, and he hoped that things would turn out for the better for him and the thestrals when the general did return, though he doubted it would happen.

As he pondered this, Gretchen stepped in. “Both my brother and Dead Eye are gone with my uncle, Fletching. This is what Sharp Beak wanted and he is staying, no matter who gets in his way. We just have to be patient. My uncle told me and Felix that they would be back within a week’s time. Whatever comes their way, I’m certain they will handle it,” she said.

Quicksilver gave a small sigh. It was small enough for them to notice his discouragement, but not enough for them to engage. He wouldn’t know how long it will take for General Quill to return, if ever.

They’re sending another invasion force to recapture Prancy, he thought, imagining the scenario in his head. They’re going to either starve them out or surround the city. Winter is here, which is maddening beyond believe. But still, the war may continue on much longer if they succeed. He finished his thoughts as Felix cleared his throat.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Quicksilver. I’ve got other tasks that require my attention,” he said as he went back to attending to his patients. Quicksilver turned to leave, but stopped himself to give a smile back to them.

“By the way Felix, that song you were doing was quite nice,” he said. He began to head out, until Felix waved a claw at him, grabbing his attention.

“It’s a hymn that I have been working on for some time now. Though some of the words I use tend to be more lyrical and soothing, yet I just can’t find the right tone to it. To top it off, I’ve read into my own books that I’ve brought along, yet none could yield anything that would inspire me. Perhaps a new perspective will help shed some light on my hymn,” he said.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise. “You're asking me for advice? Can Gretchen help you instead? She seemed to have more inspiring things then what my life has to offer,” he said. Gretchen gave a huff of amusement, though he was unsure.

“Why not? A new perspective from a different race might shine some light on my path. You see, Arch Gryphons are known for their spiritual connection in our lands. Those who dedicate themselves to Saint Gregor also strive to give a hymn or song to his name or his people. I myself am striving to uplift our broken souls so that we can find peace in out time of struggle. My hope is that my song, my hymn can uplift the souls of those who have suffered, and that they can not only rise up to meet the challenges before them, but so that they can finally have a life worth meaning,” he said.

Quicksilver blinked a  few times. “That is very...genuine, Felix. It would be a privilege to help,” he said.

Felix gave a small smile. “It does my heart good to hear that. Now,” he said as he pulled up his book and quill, ready to write. “Tell me something that inspires you,” he asked.

Quicksilver looked over to Gretchen, who nodded to him. Taking a steady breath, he decided to give a few ideas out.

“Well, for starters, I guess the one thing I can say that inspires me is my sister, Silverwing. Nothing is more important than my family, and I someday wish to go back to her,” he said as Felix began writing his words down. “I long to go back to my home, or if I ever had a home. I just want so much to have a place to call my own, to grow a family and to live a life free from war.”

He paused, waiting for Felix to finish up his writing. Once he did, he looked up to Quicksilver as if he was waiting for something, like a student to a teacher. He almost smiled as Felix waved his claw at him, urging him to go on.

“Another thing that is important to me is my friends, a few of which I made among the army and legionnaires. I was stationed with them in Canterlot, training and living with them as if they were my brothers. In a way, they are more like my family then I care to admit. We all are different, in more ways than one. Some wish to be scholars, others wish wish to return to their old lives if possible.They are all dedicated to serving our nation and they all wish to return home, just like me,” he said as Felix continued to write down in his book. As he finished scribbling his last sentence, he noticed that Gretchen was quiet during this and looking down at the ground for the most part. He wondered what was bothering her when Felix raised his voice once again.

“Alright, I think I almost have enough. If you wouldn’t mind, if you can shed another item, something that makes you really care. Is there anything that you wish to add?” he asked, eager to write another entry into his book.

Quicksilver thought for a moment, wondering what else he could add to help him into his hymn. He soon found himself drawn to Gretchen, who still was looking down to the patient before her, but for the most part lost in her own little world.

It was then he found his answer.

“I think the last thing that I wanted to have is having to soar again,” he said, directing his attention to Felix. As he did, however, he noticed that Gretchen had stirred and looked at him. “I wish to be flying again. I want to have that freedom to have no boundaries, to fly in the open sky, feel the wind on my face and to have that wind carry me home to where I was born. That is what I miss the most,” he said.

Felix finished writing the last bit into his book. “I think that is something we both share,” Felix chuckled as he closed the book. “Thank you for sharing that. I’m certain to use some of this for my hymn,” he said.

Quicksilver nodded. He felt a little proud that he was able to help in some small way. He turned to speak to Gretchen, who simply stared at him.

“There you are, little equine,” a loud boisterous voice came behind him. Quicksilver turned to see the corpulent Black Talon moving towards him. He carried a small piece of meat in one claw and had strings of flesh on his cheeks. He smiled with an arrogance he showed before and revealed the food stuck in his teeth.

“Your are needed for work at the entrance. I’m here to escort you,” he said.

Quicksilver stared up at him with a glare. “I was told I only had small task, nothing more,” he replied.

Black Talon chuckled, his belly jiggling up and down in an unpalatable manner. “Sharp Beak has a change of plan for you,” he said as he lunged his right claw and snagged the top of his mane. Quicksilver gave a half cry as he was tossed out of the tent and landed in the snow outside. Quicksilver was able to get up, albeit at a slow pace and looked up at the fat gryphon staring down at him.

“Get moving now. We don’t have all day,” he said as Quicksilver departed the triage, leaving Gretchen and Felix where they were.

Quicksilver moved across the camp with Black Talon on his heels. He missed having the silent treatment with Warden, who had left with Ebon Jaeger and General Quill. He always was polite when he was quiet; Black Talon was nothing more than a narcissistic slob. Black Talon kept droning on and on about his supposed accomplishments and his achievements for the gryphon kingdom, but Quicksilver could tell that he was full of himself. How a fat bastard like him could be in the gryphon army, or any army for that matter, was beyond him. As the two continued towards the cave entrance, Black Talon spoke once more.

“Oh, you wouldn't believe those Thestrals. Savages one and all. They don’t even deserve to be considered equines, or even ponies for that matter.”

Quicksilver said nothing as he continued to rant.

“No matter what we provide, they always complain about not getting proper care when we provide what’s best for them.”

That’s an outright lie, Quicksilver thought as he continued to move.

“You know, it was a pleasure seeing them weep in anguish as I dragged their dead away,” he said with utmost joy in his voice.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t turn to face him dead in the eye, but kept his gaze forward. He knew any slight against that gryphon would get him beaten or punished in some nefarious way.

“Oh, the cries as I dragged the elderly! The way they were dragged across the snow, it was music to my ears as I heard them beg for them back. I gave them a solid honor, and threw those carcasses off the mountain side,” he said.

Quicksilver felt a pit in his stomach. He looked down and felt disgusted by this.

“Although, I wish I could throw the filthy brat off the side of the mountain. That miscreant who bit me will get his due, and that is the day I won’t miss,” he said.

Quicksilver gave a sharp snarl, but not enough to make Black Talon notice. “I hope you choke on a bone, you overweight stool pigeon,” Quicksilver said under his breath.

“You say something?” Black Talon asked.

Quicksilver shook his head.

Black Talon merely grunted in annoyance and kept on moving until they reached their destination.

“There it is. Your task,” he said, pointing his fat talon forward. Quicksilver looked to what was in front of him: what appeared to be a large tree. Its branches had all been removed, and it was at least twenty feet in length and the width about to his chest. He also noticed a pair of metal chain links attached to either end of the log. They were attached to a single harness that he had worn many times before.

“I’m supposed to pull this?” Quicksilver asked, knowing it was a dumb question in the first place. Black Talon chuckled at this and pointed one of his meaty talons at the fallen tree.

“You will be pulling this all by yourself. No pony shall help you, and you will be given no breaks. This is to be pulled all the way towards the barracks, and only after you’ve delivered it will you be finally done for the day.”

“It’s late in the day as is, and you expect me to tug this thing to-”

He didn’t finished as he felt a claw on the back of his head and shoved forward, landing into the snow in front of the harness.

“No excuses! Get this done and maybe we’ll be generous in serving you our scraps. Now get in that harness, you mongrel!” he commanded.

Quicksilver reluctantly did as he was told. He equipped himself into the harness, the cold leather like ice to the touch. He shuddered as he secured himself, and the harness was soon ready for use. Black Talon sealed the deal as he came over and tugged rather tightly onto the fastener. Quicksilver grunted from both the cold and the pain. Black Talon then stood back and smacked one of his talons from the last of the food he ate and seemed to marvel at the prisoner before him.

“Yes, a good little equine slave. Doing the job that is better for the likes of you,” he said, then turning and headed off to parts unknown.

Quicksilver remained where he was, locked to a large tree and his only means of being freed was to do the task at hoof. Taking a deep breath, he began moving forward, only to find that the log wouldn’t budge.

“Are you bucking kidding me?” he said to himself as he pulled hard onto the harness. The chains clanked together as the tree refused to move. He tugged and grunted, grinding his teeth as he pulled with all of his strength. Then, in a single moment, he heard the snow and ice crack, and the tree moved out from its position. He pulled it a few feet until he stopped to catch his breath.

“They let the damn thing to freeze just so it's harder for me,” he concluded, before continuing to pull the heavy load. As the first few minutes passed, Quicksilver felt the strain of the tree. His muscles bulged and ached as he continued to move the first few meters from its original position. His body, worn from the previous day's events, had been incredibly taxing. Inch by painful inch, with every foot that he could gain, his body moved on, but all he could was pray that it would end soon. Minutes turned to the first hour as he continued to slog through the snow and muck. He felt every fiber of his being screaming as he pulled, and he struggled when the tree would get stuck or when his body was tired and he needed a few minutes rest. He paused for a breath and turned around to see how much progress he made.

That’s about fifty meters I believe, Quicksilver thought, feeling a sense of overwhelming dread as he looked back at where the barracks was. The building was still a hundred meters away, and he already groaned for the remainder of his trek.

He heard the sound of the dinner bell and cast his gaze to the flock of gryphons already gathering to the mess tent. The gryphons, particularly the Nomads, were indulging themselves on the fresh food served to them. Quicksilver felt the pit of his stomach growl in protest and placed a hoof over his belly. He hadn't eaten much today, barely given anything save some water and a half-eaten loaf of bread. Sharp Beak wanted him to suffer, but he knew that any slight or sign of weakness would make the colonel continue to ridicule him, or even put more tasks on his already burdened back. Taking a hesitant breath, he continued once more down the path.

Quicksilver dug his hooves into the dirt and pulled, his shoulders aching as he continued to exert himself. He breathed heavily with each tug, and every few inches to the next yard he was able to pull the heavy tree at a steady pace. While he moved, he felt the ground shake slightly under him as he looked behind to see what was causing the commotion. He saw the minotaurs marching passed him, carrying more lumber to the barracks. Their muscles bulged at ridiculous sizes as they carried large stones and broken trees towards their destination.

He looked up ahead and saw that the building was nearly complete. Its foundation has been built and the walls have been added, and parts of the roof was all that was left. Ahead, he saw the minotaurs place the large boulders on the side and tie ropes to the side of them. He then saw others pull onto the roof pieces and hoist them up, using the boulders hold up the foundation as they brought in the final pieces of lumber. He also some minotaurs ahead of him breaking some boulders into smaller pieces and making a makeshift stone chimney.

Seemed the gryphons wanted all the luxury in the world.

The minotaurs had it tough just as much as he did, and they continued to build for the last six days since the General was gone. They looked worn and tired, but they still amazed Quicksilver to no end at their strength. They moved back and forth from their destination and back, delivering more lumber and boulders to the barracks for the final construction.

For a moment he wished that he had their strength.

For the next thirty minutes, he continued to press on until he noticed one of the bulls stopping in its tracks. He looked up and saw that it was the great blue bull, the same one that won that fight that he happened to witness. The bull’s beady green eyes stared down at him, and he observed him rather curiously. He was watching him like a strange creature, wondering what he was doing and wondering why he was doing what he was doing.

Quicksilver couldn’t comprehend as to why the bull eyed him or was interested in what he was doing. He ignored the bull and focused on the path ahead. He struggled once again to continue pressing on, yet as he moved, the bull slowed down. Quicksilver noticed that the bull slowed just enough so that it moved at his pace. He wondered why the bull would even be observing him or having any attentive views of him. He looked back up with a curious expression, and the bull stared back with equal interest.

The blue bull eyed the giant tree, then back at him, his head cocked to the side like a small child wondering what his parent is making in the kitchen. In a way, Quicksilver thought the bull was like a small child, just in a giant body that would tear you apart if you stared to long. Yet he stared at the bull, watching him, wondering what he was thinking, what was going on through his mind. He didn’t know if it lasted an hour to a few minutes, but there was something in those green eyes, he didn’t know what it was or how to describe it, yet the bull seemed to have an understanding that they both shared.

That they both had a struggle to overcome.

The blue bull’s ears soon flickered to life and then the bull returned to its normal pace, moving ahead as Quicksilver saw that the barracks was getting closer. He blinked a few times, wondering how it was closer. He was certain he was still far away.

Was I close already? he thought as he neared his destination.

He was so close, so close to the end.

He didn’t know how long he was pulling onto the tree, nor did he seemed to care. He didn’t know if by staring at the blue bull he had imagined having some staring contest, or his mind had imagined that his ordeal was a fickle dream. Whatever the case may be, he was near the end of it all, and he would finally be done.

“What is taking you?!” he heard Black Talon shout up ahead. Quicksilver looked to see the corpulent gryphon and Sharp Beak waiting for him. The uptight colonel had a sneer on his countenance and looked unpleased by how Quicksilver was here. Regardless, he knew they were upset, yet less so then he had imagined. As he gave them a second look, he could see the two were also surprised. It was a look that he thought he would never see those two ever do, and yet here they stood, gawked by some force that is beyond their comprehension.

“I’m impressed, pegasus. You’ve managed to pull this tree all the way here,” Sharp Beak said as Quicksilver went past them, pulling the large lumber forward until the tree slid into a small trench, the tree making a loud thump as he finally came to a stop. Quicksilver had stopped, yet his body leaned forward as if still trying to pull the tree, yet he didn’t even realize it. His whole body felt ragged, and he felt sweat coming off the side of his body. His breathing was heavy, and he could see his breath in the cold air.

Was everything this colder? Is it night? he thought, his mind wandering about the place and saw some snow falling on the ground around him. As he looked about, almost in a daze, he noticed a gryphon guard coming up to him and grabbing a hold of his harness. With a few clicks, the harness came off with a bone crunching sound. The harness has frozen over on his body, which made it difficult to remove. The gryphon had to pry it off with its own claws, and each pull felt as if it tugged at his very skin. Once it was finally gone, Quicksilver gasped as he felt the burden lifted off his shoulders and he held his head low, almost wanting to collapse on the spot. As he breathed heavily over the whole ordeal, he heard movement on his left and out of the corner of his eye he saw a pair of talons in the snow. One of the talons was lifted up and he felt his mane pulled sharply upward, forcing him to stare into Sharp Beak eyes.

“You’ve got much spirit in you,” Sharp Beak said. A grin appeared on his face as he gave a small chuckle. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He let him go and began heading back to the encampment.

“I look forward to breaking that spirit of yours,” he called out as he left, with Black Talon following close behind. Quicksilver was left alone, his only companion the wind and its cold embrace. His mind wandered over to the great fire, thinking it was still burning its blaze. He looked over, and sure enough, the fire was burning in the distance. He began moving, wanting to get warmth, yet he thought he didn’t need it. He felt as if he were in a drunken daze, the land shifting from side to side as he went closer to the campfire. He felt numb in his legs and lower body, the cold already cutting through him.

He looked about him and found that many of the gryphons had retired for the night, and only a few gryphons had stayed up. He saw a few young bloods from the Nomad tribe who were standing guard and he noticed how they eyed him. Not with hate or envy, but instead pity. He could tell that they couldn’t stomach what the Colonel has been doing or what their older kin were doing, but he could only guess if they were going against their better judgement.

After a few minutes of walking, more or less moving in a drunken stupor, he soon found himself at the very front of the fire pit, the flames burning high into the air. He eyed an empty log nearby and took a seat. He breathed heavily as his body seemed to collapse into his seat, his body feeling like paste from the long arduous task that he had to accomplish.

No, not accomplishment; absolute torture was more fitting.

He stared at the fire ahead of him, the flames giving off its warmth. Yet he could barely feel it on his coat, and he felt more colder than the heat of the flame. He sat there for a time, watching the flames like a child, wondering where the next little spark would fly out from the crackling wood. The longer he stayed, the more warm he felt, yet he still felt cold. He felt miserable, depressed and most of all, tired.

Tired of being pushed around.

Tired of being forced to do that gryphon’s bidding.

But most of all, he was tired that no matter what he would do, he still believed he would never get out of here.

The dread lingered through his mind, only to hear to hear a rumbling noise around him.

He stirred a little, opening his eyes that felt iced over. He felt his lips crack as he gave a yawn and turned to see what was coming to him. His eyes widened a little as he saw the minotaurs coming forward towards the fire. Their hulking bodies were covered in sweat, and Quicksilver swore he could see the steam coming off their bodies. Quicksilver then saw the big blue one at the front, his breath heavy as his large hooves carried him towards the bonfire. Quicksilver looked in front of him, hoping to avoid his gaze. He waited a moment and saw that the bulls were moving around the bonfire, and he believed they were just heading back to their own tents for the night.

To his dismay, he saw them sitting down and resting right in front of the fire.

They all spoke to each other, low enough that he couldn’t follow. It sounded like broken Equestrian, but he couldn’t tell. Either that or he was to tired in wanting to follow what they say at all. He observed the whole lot and noticing that they were more sophisticated than he first believed. He saw their warrior ways from their duel from days past, yet now he could see that they had a more clearer connection then some mindless brutes.

As he continued to watch them, he didn’t notice a large figure coming to his left until it was sitting right down. Quicksilver, out of the corner of his eye, saw it was the big blue bull, and was carrying what appeared to be a carcass of a boar.

When he was close Quicksilver took notice that the blue bull had a mane. He noticed it was short near his back but when it neared its head the mane grew thicker. Its mane was a raggy mess yet the bull didn’t seemed to mind.

 He watched as the bull pulled a small strip from the boar and passed the meat to his brethren. Quicksilver observed as they continued this, taking a piece of the flesh and passing it to the next bull.

Quicksilver watched as they handed the boar meat and passed it around, making sure each individual had a share. It was actually a first for him seeing all of the minotaurs together. He could count at least over fifty individuals, of what he could see. They were all compact together, and he might have counted twice on the same bull. Overall, they were creatures that he should not mess with.

He wouldn’t want to imagine what they would do if they went on a rampage.

The boar meat soon came around, stopping next to a bull that sat on his right. The bull was brown with tribal tattoos across its chest, holding the boar meat and stipping away the flesh with its large fingers. The bull then turned to face him and went to offer the meat to him.

Quicksilver looked at him, seeing its blue beady eyes stare back at him. The bull eyed the boar and back at him and Quicksilver only shook his head, not wanting to partake in there meal, or eating meat for that matter. The brown bull then looked up to its companion and lifted the meat over his head. Quicksilver watched the blue bull grabbed the meat from over his head.

Quicksilver breathed a little uneasily as he watched there massive arms over him. He felt he’d be smashed to bits if one of those appendages landed on top of him.

The boar meat was given off to the blue bull, and Quicksilver heard a grunt from his left. He shook a little, believing himself to be from the cold, as he turned to stare at the blue bull. He saw its green eyes staring down at him as if insulted. The bull motioned toward the meat, and Quicksilver caught on really quick. He again shook his head, yet he heard his stomach groan in protest as he did.

It was all the convincing that the blue bull needed, and what he did next surprised Quicksilver.

The bull took a piece of flesh from the boar meat and offered it onto him.

“Eat,” it said with a deep voice.

Quicksilver’s eyes widened in bewilderment. The bull just spoke to him and he could understand! Was it that he was finally paying attention, or was it that he couldn’t fully understand him from being tired? The combination of tiredness and hunger might have deluded his mind from hearing him properly.

Quicksilver eyed the meat and took it without question, still eyeing the bull warily. Decided to suck it up, he put the whole slice of meat into his mouth and began chewing, eating it at a slow pace. The more he chewed, the more he kept imagining eating some hay or some hot loaf of bread with honey.

His mind snapped to attention when he felt a meaty palm on top of his head, making him swallow his food in the process.

He felt the whole the bulls arm around his head, its long appendage on either side. He then felt his head moved slightly, and he soon found himself staring straight into the bull’s eyes. The bull had that same state as before, looking at him as if in a curious nature was about him. Quicksilver could only fathom as to what he wanted to say or do, but he was completely at the bull’s mercy at this point. The blue bull cocked his head to one side and then the other, turning Quicksilver’s head as to observe every detail of his face. Quicksilver felt his heart pound in his chest, and he only stared at the blue bull in fear.

After what felt like an eternity, the blue bull gave the biggest grin that Quicksilver would ever see.



“Equine Strong,” the blue bull said, lifting up its massive palm and patting the top of Quicksilver’s head. He felt his mane pushed up and down from the meaty paw, yet it was soft on his head. He felt like he was some pet being played by a child, a very large one at that. The blue bull then lifted up its arm and pounded his chest twice, making Quicksilver look at him in puzzlement.

“Chief Ironhide,” he proclaimed as Quicksilver looked up to the bull.

“Quick- Quicksilver,” he replied, rather weakly. Ironhide nodded to him, before turning his attention to the rest of his brethren.

“Quicksilver is strong. Pulled like beast. Small equine yet mighty like us,” he said as Ironhide turned to face him, a large smile bore right on his face. “You suffer fate like us. Your resolve immense. Your determination in your eyes. Among my kind, minotaurs respect strength, and we’ve seen that same strength in you, Quicksilver,” he said as the other bulls began chanting the word Silver in a low tone.

Quicksilver couldn’t believe what he was hearing: the bulls actually respected him, just for pulling bloody log. It could have also been the long hours he had spent over the past few days, working and slaving over the long hours behind the pulling and the heaving of the burdens of labor. Yet here and now, these large creatures who were so fearsome were humble enough to acknowledge him as something other then some slave.

They respected him for being who he is.

As he continued to hear their low chant, his mind flickered to thoughts of home, and to his friends.

But more importantly, that of his sister being alright.

“Silverwing,” he muttered at the words and imagined that she was here. His mind wandered about the bonfire and spotted something out of the corner of his eye. A body of blue as his and a silver mane with a blue line.

What he saw strongly resembled his sister.

He quickly stood up, causing the bulls to stop their chant.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” he said hastily, and took off for his tent, leaving the herd behind him. He raced passed the tents, trying to find what he saw. He hurried past sleeping gryphons and a few of the guards paid him no heed as he went. He had one focus on his mind, and wherever he went he could only see a faint glimpse of his sister. He gave chase for several minutes, seeing only glimpses of her body disappearing behind a tent. As he went, he found her behind another pair of tents. He called after her several times, trying to get her attention, but she would never respond.

After running non stop, he soon found himself outside the encampment and saw his tent on the hill. He stopped where he was, his world twisting and turning, making him sway from side to side. He felt delirious as he tried to focus on the path ahead of him. He tried moving, but his body almost tumbled to the ground. He stopped himself, his hooves planted and his breath shaky. He looked up to his tent, and saw his sister standing there, waiting for him.

“Silverwing!” he called out in desperation, only for his leg gave out and him to fall into the snow. His body welcomed the cold snow and his eyes fluttered open, trying to catch one last glimpse of her. He felt the snow land on him, and his body was ready to give in. The last thing he saw was a pair of wings gliding towards him as his world turned to blackness.