Quicksilver was dreaming again. He was still soaring, still flying in the open skies. The land was peaceful, and the sun's rays were ever vibrant on his wings. He cast his gaze and saw a city in the distance on a lone mountain. The city was beautiful, its towers familiar. Every home was built with care, and the city was filled with ponies of all races coming and going as they pleased. He saw various colors of reds, greens and blues when he saw the homes and buildings, shining bright in the sunlight of the morn. Quicksilver smiled, knowing what this city was.
It was the city of Canterlot.
He was approaching at a slow pace, his wings gliding away upon the wind. He checked his wings and saw they were perfect. He smiled at this, seeing that his wings had finally given him the freedom he needed to do what he loves to do.
To soar out across the skies.
He turned his gaze back to the city of Canterlot. The city was still distant but getting closer. He noticed in the distance a storm cloud near the city, its rolling clouds blocking the city from view. He doubled his pace, hoping to reach the sanctuary of the city’s walls before the storm overcame him.
Suddenly, he found that he could not move his wings. He turned back to see his wings bandaged and covered in ice.
Panic coursed through him. Why was this happening, why are my wings like this?
He turned back to see the city of Canterlot, but he was rapidly descending to the ground below. He screamed and flapped his wings, any attempt to stay afloat.
He heard a twisted sick laughter at what he was doing. He managed to turn his body to stare up at the sky, and he saw Colonel Sharp Beak pointing a talon and mocking him for his crippled body. Other Nomad Gryphons were laughing alongside him, scorning and belittling him like he was nothing. Their bodies soon faded in the cloud as Quicksilver flipped over and saw the ground rapidly approaching him.
He shut his eyes, bracing for the impact.
Yet nothing happened. He didn’t hit the ground, nor did he taste dirt. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, his limbs lifeless as they dangled from his body. He felt a soft touch wrap around his chest and body, carrying him up into the air.
He opened his eyes, seeing the ground become distant. He looked at his chest and saw two claws holding him tight. He turned his head, his gaze looking at the gryphon who carried him.
It was Gretchen.
Her gaze was not on him, but was cast straight toward the skies. He didn’t know why she was doing it, nor did he seem to care. But he felt comfort in her embrace. He followed her gaze and saw the storm clouds gather. He saw Sharp Beak in the sky, an anger growing within his eyes as the two were closer to him than ever before. Gretchen released Quicksilver, aiming straight at the Colonel. Quicksilver, feeling strength in his limbs, raised a hoof directly at the Colonel. With a final bellow, he struck the tyrant in his beak and the gryphon plummeted towards the ground below.
Quicksilver bellowed into the air at his triumph, but found that he was falling along with him. Storm clouds surrounded his body, and darkness overcame him.
Quicksilver awoke with a start, his eyes staring at the wall of the tent. He was resting on his right side, his legs held close to his chest. The only light in his room was a single candle that had burnt low, the wax turned into a liquid mess around its base. There was no gryphon inside with him, and it was deathly quiet.
How long was I out, he thought, lifting his hooves up from the comfort of the blanket. He felt strength in his hooves when he lifted them in front of him, and saw a significant difference in them. There was no bandage on his right hoof and when he observed his limb, he noticed a scar that was an ‘x’ shape on the back of his leg. Whatever magic Felix had used, it certainly healed him from his beating and torment from Colonel Sharp Beak.
Wanting to test his wings, he shifted them in place, but found that they were still bound. Looking back and pushing the blanket aside, he saw that his wings were still held tight by fresh bandages. He sighed a little, wishing to know just how long he needed to heal for his wings to be restored.
“This should be the tent that equine’s in,” a voice said outside of the tent. Quicksilver cast his gaze to the entrance and saw three figures standing there in silhouette. Thinking quickly, he covered himself back up with the blanket and pretended to be asleep, keeping an eye cracked open slightly to see who was entering. A moment of silence passed, and the tent entrance soon opened.
In the faint candle light, he could make out two Nomad gryphons and a Noble gryphon being dragged by his knees. Quicksilver remained still, yet his heartbeat quickened when he spotted the two Nomads wielding daggers. He remained silent, unsure of what was going on, but all of his instincts were telling him to be ready for a fight.
“Ah, just like our esteemed colonel said, the prisoner is fast asleep,” the nearest gryphon spoke, leaving Noble gryphon’s side and slowly approaching Quicksilver’s bed.
“What should we do with this one?” his companion asked, gesturing to the slumped body of the noble in his claws. The closest Nomad gryphon turned to his mate, unaware that Quicksilver’s hoof was slowly moving toward the melted candle stick.
“Slit his throat. He’s a strong fighter, and I’d hate to have to fight him,” he replied, turning his attention back on Quicksilver. His hoof froze on the spot, inches away from the candlestick. Quicksilver eyed the Nomad holding the dagger and placing the blade near the Noble’s neck.
Then, without warning, the Noble reacted and seized the blade from his captor and rammed it into his stomach. The Nomad let out a short scream before he was tackled by the gryphon.
His companion turned his attention to the attacker, but failed to see Quicksilver grab a hold of the melted candle. He shoved the blankets off and alerted the gryphon, but he threw the candle just as the nomad turned to him. The hot wax splattered onto his eyes and face, and the Nomad hissed in pain. He let go of his short blade, allowing for Quicksilver to seize it mid drop and lunge it into his assassin’s neck. Quicksilver fell out of his bed when the blade ran through, the gryphon gagging from its own blood and blinded by the wax. He remained like that for a few moments before his body was still.
Quicksilver then turned his attention back to the Noble who scuffled with his Nomad captor, only to bring his blade back into the Nomad’s chest and ending him. Quicksilver watched as the Noble rolled over and rested his body on the side of the tent. Quicksilver could see his face partially from the light outside, and soon recognized a distinct scar over his left eye and down his beak.
“Deadeye,” he muttered, trying to get up but finding his legs were still shaky and unresponsive. He shook his legs of the numbness and slowly drew himself to a standing position. He felt the necklace on his neck dangle for a moment, and he remembered when Nightshade gave it to him. Gathering his bearings, he looked at the bodies of the two assassins, their own blades embedded in them, before turning his gaze back on Deadeye. The gryphon coughed and huffed out in his exhaustion, while Quicksilver got a good view of his facial features. Deadeye was heavily bruised on his face and beak. His chest was covered in claw marks, and blood was visible around his abdomen.
“You live, equine,” Deadeye coughed in response, his chest heaving with each breath. Quicksilver moved towards him, his legs trembling with each step. After a few precarious steps, he fell onto his haunches and was near Deadeye’s side, trying to see if there was anything he could do.
“Deadeye, what happened? What’s going on?” he asked, his mind already filling with questions.
Deadeye swallowed and took a shaky breath before speaking. “Colonel Sharp Beak was freed by his supporters,” he explained. Quicksilver felt overwhelming dread that he had escaped. “He has plotted a coup and has taken General Quill to the barracks, along with my brother Ebon. He has a few of his supporters finding the officers that follow under them and has ordered for them to be put to death,” he explained, coughing up blood after trying to get his last words out.
“What about Felix or Gretchen?” he asked, uncertainty ruining through him.
“I was with my sister when the Nomad gryphons jumped us,” he explained. “I don’t know where they took her or what they did with Felix, if they found him or not,” he said, placing a claw over his chest and trying to take deep breaths.
“Should you alert the others? Do they realize what’s going on?’ he said, turning his gaze to the outside, seeing the snow fresh on the ground and multiple tents from his viewpoint. He felt a claw seize him by the shoulder, and Quicksilver was forced to stare Deadeye in the eye.
“You shouldn’t worry about them. You need to flee, escape while you still can,” he said, offering the blood stained dagger to Quicksilver.
Though hesitant, Quicksilver accepted it and placed it in his hoof. “You need help, and I’m not going to leave you here,” he said, but Deadeye shook his head in frustration.
“I’m fine, you bloody idiot. I just need to catch my breath,” he said. Stubbornness seemed to be the only thing keeping him awake at this point. “Now listen, go to the mess tent and head inside. There is a supply cache in the far back which holds provisions inside, and it’ll allow you to escape. You will have all the things you need to survive out there in the winter. Now go,” he said, letting go of his shoulder to place his claws on the ground and catch his breath. Quicksilver was reluctant to leave, even watching him risk his life for him.
“I can’t just leave you here,” he said, taking a look outside, watching for a brief movement.
“You ass, just go!” Deadeye shouted, slapping Quicksilver’s flank and spooking him.
Quicksilver immediately bolted outside, the cold hitting him and sucking the warmth away. He stopped in front of the closest tent, hunkering down and trying to survey the situation that he was in. There were more tents then he could count. There could be hundreds of them, and with all of them scattered about, it would be difficult to navigate through. However, despite that, he could see the large tent in the center of the camp where the mess hall would be. Deciding to follow on what Deadeye suggested, he began to make his way towards it.
Quicksilver was silent. The only thing he heard was the sound of his own breath. He could hear some movement in the distance, but he didn’t knew if it was far off or right around the corner. Taking his dagger, he crouched low and began to move from tent to tent, hoping that he would be silent enough that no gryphon would hear him.
He felt like he was back in the trenches of Prancy, moving like a rat through a fortress of enemies.
Where is everypony? Why is everything so silent? he thought, trying to come up some logical explanation. If a coup was occurring, the whole camp would be fighting between the factions. Instead, he heard nothing but the snow crunching under his hooves.
A noise nearby alerted him, and he hid in the shadow of the tent. Taking it steady, he approached an area were multiple tents were grouped together. He froze when he spotted a Nomad gryphon standing guard in front of him. He slowly got behind him, sitting behind a large barrel. He looked at the grizzled Nomad, who was staring at a bunch of bodies on the ground.
Quicksilver cast his gaze to the massacre of a few dozen bodies, majority of them Nobles. He spotted two other Nomad gryphons, wearing heavy armor and carrying weapons that were bloodied. A Noble and Nomad gryphon were on their knees, their arms stripped of any value and leaving them bare in front of their captors.
“C,mon, let's finish them so we can get back to the Barracks. The Colonel is waiting for us,” one of them said softly.
His companion waved him off with a flick of his claw. “Nah, the Razor Claw brigade was sent out this morning under false orders, so this camp is mostly deserted. Relax, I’ve always wanted to make them squirm,” he said, taking his blade to bring it close to the Nomad gryphon. The gryphon stood up and was forced to look at his captor.
“Yeah, you’re right. Colonel Sharp Beak was always the manipulative one, forging those papers. It was ingenious of him. Now we can uproot these traitors for abandoning the king,” he said.
The Nomad gryphon that was on the ground pleaded to his captor. “Please, let me go. I just want to see my son and wife again. Please,” he implored, tears streaming down his face.
“An officer begging for his life? That is unbecoming of a Nomad like yourself. We’ll make sure to inform your family of your failure, and they will join you in death,” he said, thrusting his blade into the Nomad. A wordless cry escaped the officer, and the guard slowly pushed the blade further in.
Seeing an opportunity, Quicksilver raised himself behind the gryphon standing guard, and saw the other two Nomads were not paying attention. In one swift motion he quickly wrapped his hooves around his head. The Nomad struggled in Quicksilver’s grip as he pulled him down behind the barrel. The older Nomad nearly squawked, making Quicksilver tighten his grip. The Nomad struggled for breath, dropping his weapon and clutching at his forelegs to get him off, his back half kicking against the ground and sending some snow into the air. With another tight squeeze, he felt something break in the Nomad’s neck and the gryphon was soon still in his tight embrace.
Letting go of the dead body and letting it slide off his left side, he peered around the barrel. A second later, however, the body of the dead gryphon hit the tent, causing the snow that had accumulated to fall on top of him and the dead Nomad. The sudden chill was enough to send shivers down his side.
“What was that?” the guard said, finishing off the officer and allowing the body to collapse in a heap in front of him. The Nomad, standing on his back legs, carried his heavy blade forward and moved towards the sound of the noise.
“Get your blade ready, just in case,” he said, while his companion left the Noble’s side and kept a close watch. The approaching Nomad soon moved past the barrel, oblivious to the snow mound that Quicksilver was buried in. Quicksilver’s eye was the only thing uncovered, staring out from the pile and seeing the guard look about the area.
“Where the devil did our guard go?” he said softly, his blade pointing at the multiple tents around him. Quicksilver hardly breathed when the nomad took a step closer to him, his body mere inches away from the gryphon. After another minute of absolute silence, the guard gave a huff and turned around to his companion.
“Probably taking a piss. C’mon, get the Noble ready for his judgement,” he said, taking a step forward near Quicksilver. Seizing the opportunity, Quicksilver thrusted his hoof out and wrapped it around the guard’s leg.
Before the guard could let out a scream, his back legs were pulled out from under him and he fell to where Quicksilver held his dagger for him. The Nomad fell upon the dagger, the blade going clear through his neck and out the other side of his head.
Wasting no time, Quicksilver removed himself from the pile of snow and yanked the blade out from the quivering gryphon and rushed toward the last guard. The Nomad’s golden eyes widened in horror at seeing his companion on the ground and lifted his halberd to the assailant. Quicksilver effortlessly moved passed the larger weapon and thrust his blade directly into the exposed neck of the Nomad. The blade pierced skin and feathers as Quicksilver rushed directly into the guard and forced the both of them to hit the ground, resulting in the blade going further into the Nomad’s neck. The Nomad gagged and raised his claws up to seize him, but he was only clawing at air around him. Quicksilver held the dagger in his neck, keeping the pressure as he felt blood at the end of his hooves. A moment passed, a few gurgling sounds escaped the guard and his arms fell to his sides.
The last guard was no more.
Taking a moment, he surveyed the area of the dead gryphons. Just like Deadeye said, it appeared that almost every officer was being taken and executed. He even recognized some of the faces of a few gryphons.
He turned his attention back to the Noble, who was looking at him in a stunned stupor. The Noble had blue feathers around his eyes and chest, and a white body where the feathers ended. His green eyes looked startled by what Quicksilver had did. Quicksilver removed the blade from his victim and headed over to the Noble. He saw a binding on its claws behind him, and he quickly made short work of the rope. A moment later, the Noble fell forward but stopped himself with his own talons. He raised himself up, rubbing his wrists before turning to Quicksilver with a thankful expression.
“You saved my life,” he said, a look of astonishment present on his face.
“There is no time for that. Deadeye is hurt and waiting at the tent that I was sleeping in. He needs help,” he said, pointing a hoof back the way he came.
The Noble gryphon looked over and nodded, picking up a blade from one of the fallen Nomads. “I’ll go see to him and rally my troops. I won’t forget this, equine,” he said, heading off in the direction of the tent.
Heading in the opposite direction, Quicksilver made his way past more of the outlining tents, but came across a few toppled ones along his path. He wondered if it was true, that the Razor Claw brigade was away. It would give a reason for Sharp Beak being able to break out and cause this uprising. A thought soon occurred to him, and he realized that the thestrals were in danger as well. Moving from his original course, he diverted to another pathway through the tents and headed to where they rested.
Several minutes passed, and Quicksilver saw the thestrals were still in their small encampment. The only thing that separated him and to his bat friends was an open area that was twenty five yards apart. He stopped near the edge, daring a look to see if he was clear. Taking a shaky breath, he moved swiftly and stealthy across the expanse and towards the small encampment. The fires were out around the area, providing him the cover of darkness. He reached the area with no incident, and he could hear the steady breaths of sleeping thestrals inside. Searching a few of the tents, he eventually found Nightshade Moon sleeping alone inside the tent. Entering inside, and settling his blade to the side, he began to shake his friend.
“Nightshade,” he whispered, bringing a hoof onto his shoulder. His friend stirred in his sleep, but didn’t wake.
“Nightshade,” Quicksilver repeated, this time getting closer and placing a hoof near his head to wake him. The thestral awoke, fluttering his eyes from his disturbed slumber. He turned and his eyes immediately went wide, ready to scream. Quicksilver pressed a hoof to his mouth and quieted him down.
“Nightshade, it’s me,” he whispered in Prench. It took but a momnet but Nightshade focused his eyes on him and nodded to him. Once he calmed Nightshade down, he removed his hoof and Nightshade looked at him in shock.
“My friend, why did you wake me, and why are you covered in blood?” he said.
Quicksilver blinked in surprise. It amazed him that even though it was still dark, the thestral had perfect vision in the blackness. “I can’t explain right now. You have got to rouse your people. Sharp Beak is free and plotting a coup to usurp both General Quill and Ebon,” he explained as best he could, but Nightshade already got the message.
“The tyrant is free? My people are in danger!” he said, already getting up from his bed.
Quicksilver pressed a hoof to his chest. “Nightshade. I’m going to get provisions from the mess hall for the long journey. Keep your people here until then and I’ll signal you all to flee straight for the tunnel,” he said, grabbing his blade and turning to leave. He was stopped short when Nightshade held his hoof and made him look at him. The thestral leader placed a hoof on his chest, pressing at his stone talisman. He gave a toothy grin and nodded to him.
“May the huntress guide your path,” he said, before letting him go.
I’ve got to ask him if she is a religious figure, Quicksilver thought to himself while giving a knowing smile. Quicksilver soon departed the tent and rushed towards the main encampment. He didn’t care or stop for any threats. He knew speed was the utmost importance.
After traveling a few minutes past the tents, he heard a small commotion nearby. Wanting to investigate the noise, he quickly but silently moved to the nearest tent and cast a glance toward the noise. His eyes widened when he saw a small number of Nomad gryphons all gathered around, with Sharp Beak at the center of it all. Next to him, and kneeling on its knees was another gryphon, but he had a bag over his head and chest. The colonel looked at his companion, an overwhelming pride seeming to radiate off him as his warriors gleefully whispered his name.
“What should we do with this one?” one asked.
“He’s had his days, kill the stupid pluck,” said another.
“Patience, my proud warriors. He’ll get his due soon enough.” He punched into the hooded figure’s gut, and the other Nomads shared a small laugh as a muffled groan escaped the captor.
“He’ll be dealt with at my own discretion. In the meantime, continue finding the remaining officers. Once they are dealt with, we will fully be in control of all of the younger recruits,“ he said, his face twisting in a small devilish grin. The others all nodded and mumbled much appreciation to their leader.
Quicksilver remained still, watching the scene before him, until he saw one gryphon Nomad heading towards the crowd. Once he was close, he fell to one knee and bowed his head.
“My lord, two of our brothers are dead in the equine’s tent, and our prisoner Deadeye is nowhere to be found,” he explained.
In a flash, Sharp Beak lost his upbeat composure. No doubt he still felt humiliated from losing to Quicksilver, as that had already damaged his pride.
“The equine is more slippery than ever,” he said, turning to his companions and waving his claw in authority. “Search the grounds for him, but do it discreetly. Whoever finds the equine and brings me his head will be my next right claw. I’ve got to be somewhere private for this one,” he said, pulling on the masked gryphon and forcing him to walk. The rest of the party dispersed, searching throughout the camp.
Quicksilver remained hidden behind the tent and waited for the group to clear. As he remained still, he heard a soft noise coming close to him. His ears focused to the noise, wondering if it was coming from the other side of the tent, but heard a soft crunch of snow coming from behind. In a panic, he whirled around and raised his blade to meet his assailant, only for a thick claw to wrap around his mouth and keep him silent.
“Easy, Quicksilver. It’s me,” Ebon said, holding both the blade and keeping his claw around Quicksilver’s mouth. The captain eyed him over, and a small chuff came from him. “Seems we’re not the only ones to get their claws dirty,” he explained.
Quicksilver’s eyes darted to the gryphon leader and to ‘Warden’, who sat close behind him. He moved his head and observed if the coast was clear, before turning back to face Quicksilver.
“I overheard that Deadeye had escaped. Did you have something to do with that?” he asked, not removing his claw off of his mouth. Quicksilver nodded slowly, his body calming down from the sudden rush. Ebon sighed deeply and released his massive claw off of him. “At least my brother is still alive,” he said, allowing Quicksilver to speak his mind.
“I helped a Noble officer, and he went to go help Deadeye,” he said. Ebon nodded at the good news. “I heard you were held up. How did you manage to escape?” he asked, many questions running through his mind at once.
Ebon gave a short breath, the air visible from the cold air. “After Sharp Beak left, several of my companions helped liberate me from the barracks. I intend to go after the Razor Claw Brigade and bring them back and end Sharp Beak‘s rebellion,” he said, getting up and ready to take flight.
“What about your recruits and youngbloods? Will they switch sides when they learn of their commanding officers are gone?” Quicksilver asked.
Ebon waved it off. “I know many of the recruits have close ties to some of their captains. I’m certain they’ll be resistant in joining when they learn that their companions were butchered by his talons,” he said.
“What about the gryphon tied up? I swore I thought I heard Felix,” Quicksilver said, rising up from the cold snow.
Ebon raised a talon to his chin in deep thought. “Felix is a great asset to both my uncle and to this encampment. Losing him would be a severe blow,” he explained.
Quicksilver cleared his throat. “I think I saw Felix heading towards the mess tent. If he is keeping him there, I can go get him,” he offered.
Ebon gave him a peculiar look. “You wish to offer aid when you yourself require more than is needed?” he said. Quicksilver looked around in searching of an answer. He didn’t want to reveal that he was going off and leaving them. But after all that they did for him he owed a debt that needed to be repaid.
“After what’s going on and what you and your family did for me, I just want to help end him before Sharp Beak will do more harm,” he explained as honestly as he could.
Ebon eyed him over, uncertainty present on his countenance. While he remained like this, they overheard noises nearby from Sharp Beak‘s gryphons. Ebon sighed and nodded to him.
“I trust that you will honor your word,” he asked.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Quicksilver nodded to the captain. “You will have my word,” he replied. With that, Ebon placed a claw onto his shoulder and held it with a firm grip. Quicksilver felt a little nervous from the strong hold, knowing full well that Ebon was a strong warrior in his own right. After a moment of silence passed between the two, Ebon inclined his head to him.
“Then honor your obligations,” he said, before turning to take off into the camp.
“Ebon.” Quicksilver stopped him, making the larger gryphon turn to him, “What of Gretchen? Is she fine?” he asked.
Ebon bore a brooding expression on his face.
“I haven’t heard word of my sister since I was captured. I pray to Saint Gregor that she is safe,” he replied, taking a uneasy breath. He remained like that for a moment before turning to him. “If you find her, please notify me to where she is or if you can protect her. I trust that you will honor that pledge,” he said.
Quicksilver nodded in turn to him. With that understanding between them, Ebon headed off to find his troops, and most likely would take off to find the Razor Claw brigade. Warden followed close behind and a small smirk came off of Quicksilver.
“Take care, Warden,” he said. Warden merely grunted in annoyance.
Still as silent as ever.
With the two leaving, he focused his attention to where the mess hall was. Once he spotted it, he realized he was not far from his destination. After taking another moment, he began moving to his target. He moved as quietly as possible, and he had to be still more than a few times to watch a few patrols marching on by. Sharp Beak‘s coup was still in effect, and he was not going to lose his grip on his complete take over.
The weather was not getting any better either.
Since he left the safety of his own tent, the bitter cold had taken effect. He would occasionally hear strong winds high above the open hole in the sky. Snow descended down at a constant pace, and his body was shaking from the chill. However, him moving about and killing the Nomad gryphons helped keep his body heat going and allowed him to push on.
It took him another minute until he saw the mess hall near the large fire pit. The fire had all but died out, now nothing but kindling. A few Nomad gryphons patrolled the area, carrying torches and observing their surroundings. Wanting to avoid them, Quicksilver took the back route and headed to the back entrance of the mess hall.
Once he arrived, he stood right next to back of the great mess tent, on alert and with his breath shaking. He looked to his left and right, making sure that there was no gryphon in the area. Taking the blade in hoof, he carefully poked a hole into the side of the tent. Ripping the fabric inch by careful inch, he soon stopped to get a quick look of the interior inside.
There were a number of boxes from what he saw, with a few barrels labeled “flour” and “sugar” in front of him. Removing himself from the peep hole, he inserted the dagger back in and slowly ripped the fabric of the tent at a steady rate. He cut slowly and methodically, making sure that what he was cutting would not alert the patrolling guards nearby.
When he’d cut just enough from his height, he heard a nearby patrol closing in on his location. Pushing the dagger in, he forced his body to get inside the tent. After a few tense moments, he squeezed his midsection through the tight gap and ended up sprawled on the floor, fortunately out of sight.
Wanting to be extra certain he was not seen, considering the noticeable hole that he has pushed through, he spotted a large barrel and quickly grabbed it. He pushed it into position in front of the hole and held it there, his heart beating rapidly when he heard the patrol on the other side. He saw the light of the torch hang overhead, yet they didn’t stop and continued on.
Taking a breath of relief, Quicksilver slumped into the barrel that he moved and took a moment to relax. Seeing that he was alone, he took a look at his surroundings. The whole area was stacked with wooden crates of dry foods, coats blankets and other storage. Flours, sugars and dried meats were stacked in their own respective areas, with a few vegetables tied in small bags, while the clothing were separated and hung dry on the higher shelves. He even saw several sacks of potatoes scattered about in the corner of the tent. Picking himself up, he moved past the rows of boxes, crates and barrels, and saw a tent opening nearby. Pushing a hoof inside, he surveyed the area around him.
It was then he had found himself inside the place of meal preparation for the entire camp. Several large tables were settled in the center of the room, blood stains visible on top of the oaken surface and a few knives of various sizes settled nearby. On the sides of the room, there was a cauldron with a large pot that hanged over a fire. On the racks nearby, he saw various fruits hang off the roof and over a smaller table. On the other side of the room, across from where he stood, was another entry way.
If this was the preparation area, then the next room would be the serving or dining hall.
The smell of meat hung rampant in the air, and the mixture of different fragrances that mixed in the air was very enticing. He felt his mouth water, and he wondered when was the last time he had a proper meal.
That looks really good right now, he thought, eyeing a few ripe apples that settled next to a small dining table nearby. Shaking his head and remembering why he was here, he searched the kitchen in search of several sacks big enough to carry and enough to last. His luck came around when he found several large sacks nearby and already began filling them with various fruits, vegetables and meats for the thestrals. He moved about the room at a fast pace, shoving anything inside the sacks and ready for carrying, carelessly knocking a few plates and knives onto the ground. He had to wrap the meats quickly with some of the cloth nearby and made sure it was preserved. He had even went back into the storage of the tent and packed in as much flour, yeast and other things needed for basic food and necessities. He even seized several large blankets and stuffed them in the clean bags and the dry foods as best as he could.
He would need all the provisions he needed if he was to survive out in the cold and frozen storms.
After almost twenty minutes of doing this, he heard a noise coming from his own stomach. Deciding to fill his appetite, he moved four of the full sacks to a corner of the room and went over to the table in the corner of the room. The first he seized was an apple and immediately bit into it. He shuddered from the taste and was in bliss of eating nature's candy. Quickly finishing the apple, he dove into the rest of the meal that was there. He paused, however, when he saw some of the cooked meat from a boar and some sausages that was presented before him. Ignoring the nauseating sensation within him, he dove into the meat and took a hefty chunk of it into his mouth.
For the next few minutes, he was stuffing himself with the meal presented to him. He ate everything that was there, even occasionally drinking from the nearby wineskin. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, but he kept eating until he was filled. His stomach would protest from the sense of meat within him, but he didn’t care. Being here for so long made him adaptive to the food, and eating the meat would help sustain him when he left the camp. After filling himself, he took a big swig from the wineskin to finish it all down. He took a deep sigh, knowing that he was satisfyingly full.
“Come on, take that whelp into the back,” a voice on the other side of the tent entrance said. Quicksilver whipped his head, looking for a place to hide. The first thing he saw was a small table with crates underneath and several barrels on the sides. Taking no chances, he scrambled behind the area, making himself as small as possible. It was a tight fit, but the crawl space was enough for him to squeeze in, though it was uncomfortable. After a few precious moments, his body slid until he was staring at the wall of the tent, his breathing fast and his heart racing from the adrenaline.
Once he was still, the entrance opened up, followed by the sound of two gryphons coming in and dragging something behind them. Quicksilver turned his head and peered between the cracks of the crates, seeing what was happening before him. He spotted the gluttonous Black Talon carrying the limp figure and setting him on the end of the table. The second gryphon went over and grabbed a nearby bucket of water, turning and dumping it onto their victim. The gryphon coughed and gagged under the pressure of the water, his body waking and thrashing about. Black Talon chuckled at this, and he grabbed the end of the sack over his head and pulled it off, revealing black feathers.
Felix, Quicksilver thought, seeing the Arch-Gryphon on the table like a slab of meat. His front claws were bound in rope and his mouth was gagged with a cloth. He struggled as he tried to spit up water, almost choking to get a hold of himself.
“The great and humble Arch-Gryphon has awoken,” Black Talon spoke, his belly jiggling whenever he laughed. Felix eyed him, pure fury in his eyes. “You should be grateful you’re not outright dead,” he said, observing the room around him. “Hmmm. Some gryphon seemed to get picky in here,” he said with annoyance in his voice.
Quicksilver followed his gaze, spotting the mess he created, but also spotting his supply stashed and his own blade in the corner of the tent. He only prayed they didn’t pry into it. After a few tense moments, he was relieved when the corpulent gryphon shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention onto Felix, while the second Nomad remained silent.
“Now, Sharp Beak made it clear that he wanted to be the one to kill you slowly,” he said, chuckling to himself in a intimidating manner. “He didn’t say anything about maiming you,” he said, his heavy steps circling him like a predator. Felix eyed him with much concern, his body shaking about to try and escape. This only made him laugh at his expense, shoving a claw into his body to keep him still. He then opened his mouth in delight, slapping his meaty talons together.
“I think I know of a way that will cure your stubbornness,” he said, pausing and turning toward Quicksilver's direction. Quicksilver hunkered down, still looking at the wall before him. He knew that any noise would alert them to his presence and he would be dead within moments.
“Now, where’s that favorite carving knife? I always like to place it here near my food,” he said. Quicksilver heard his heavy steps moving closer to his position. A meaty slap from his claw hit the table that he hid behind, making him freeze from the hit. He felt his heart in his throat, yet he remained still. He could hear the claw rubbishing around the table, pushing a few pieces of broken bread and meat onto the ground.
“Gah, don’t tell me it fell back there again,” he said, hearing the table creak when he stood on top of it. Quicksilver then saw Black Talon’s claw push down the space near where he was. Quicksilver felt his heart stop and his breathing ceased, as the claw fumbled around for the knife. He looked up and was thankful that he saw only the arm and not his head looking down.
“C’mon, I know your back there. Don’t make me move this table again,” Black Talon said, his talons scratching the surface of the tent wall and near the ground. Quicksilver lowered his head as far as he could, hoping to avoid being touched. He couldn’t hear his own breath nor dared make any sound, but kept himself away from Black Talon’s claw. His eye wandered and near the ground he spotted a serrated carving knife that was right next to him. Moving at a slow pace, he tenderly picked up the serrated knife, his eyes still focused on the talons. The talons shuffled over ever closer, mere inches away from his face. Seeing a moment he needed, he lifted the handle of the blade up to him until the talons grasped around the pommel.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, pulling the blade away off his hoof and leaving Quicksilver. He breathlessly sighed, and his heart painfully hammered in his chest. He also felt the need to piss himself from nearly getting caught. After taking just a moment to collect himself, he turned his attention back to Black Talon and to Felix.
“You know, even though your an Arch-Gryphon, your tribe always seemed to get better treatment than the rest of us,” he said with a sadistic tone in his voice. “The Arch-Gryphons are supposed to be sacred, the Arch-Gryphons have the ability with magic. Pluck those believers who say it’s true,” he said, taking the carving knife and bringing it closer to Felix’s eye. Felix struggled under his grip, his face held still but his lower body was kicking about and trying to break free.
“Would an eye be sufficient, or would removing your flapping tongue be satisfying?” he said, drawing the blade ever closer, whilst Felix stared in absolute horror. Before he could get his blade any closer, a knock came from the other side of the door.
“Black Talon, bring my prize in here. I hate waiting,” the voice of Sharp Beak said in the other room. Black Talon sighed and slammed his knife into the wood, mere inches away from Felix’s face.
“To be continued, then,” he said with a defeated sigh. He headed towards the exit, but stopped to give a quick smirk to his guard. “Be sure to rough him up for me. I like my prey to be alive before the kill.” he explained, leaving his guard to his wishes. Once Black Talon was gone, the guard cracked his knuckles and grabbed the front feathers of Felix and began to beat him.
Sensing a good opportunity, Quicksilver moved out of his hiding spot and quickly yet silently grabbed the blade from his cache and moved behind the guard. Making his steady approach, he saw Felix being lifted up, his face was badly bruised. Felix’s head was high enough to meet Quicksilver’s, and his eyes widened when he spotted the equine. By the time the guard took notice, Quicksilver already thrusted his blade into the back of the guard and swiftly placed his free hoof to silence his screams. He felt the rush of blood onto his hoof, and the guard struggled for a few moments before his talons fell to his side. He tried to remove the blade from the guard, yet it was embedded deep into him. He let go of the weapon as the guard fell forward, his body lying right next to Felix, who looked rather horrified at the sight.
“It’s alright, Felix,” he whispered in reassurance. He took his bounded claws and silently undid the ropes.
Although once the bounds were free Felix raised his talons to his mouth and removed the gag, he promptly turned over and hurled whatever food he had in his system.
“Oh, Saint Gregor,” he moaned slightly, clutching at his stomach and coughing slightly. Quicksilver immediately got the Arch Gryphon to stand and made him stare back at him.
“Quiet. They’ll hear us,” he said. Felix wiped the bit of bile from his beak and looked at Quicksilver as if stunned.
“You’re still alive?” he asked softly, his face quite startled to see him here.
“I’m alive. Though I can’t say that for the few that I came across in getting here,” he said, looking towards the exit and worrying if Black Talon or even the mad colonel would make their way in here. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, wiping away the blood on his hooves by rubbing them on the ground.
“You’ve been out for two whole days, nearing a third. The magic that was placed on you should have knocked you out for much longer,” he said, while scavenging the dead corpse and bringing out his necklace of crystals.
“Well, I guess I got better, yet my wings still hurt,” he said, instinctively shuffling his wings from side to side. Although, the bandages came loose do to them being wet and slacking and the fabric slid off his wings. Settling the wings back to his side, he headed to the supplies and began dragging them towards the exit.
“What are you doing?” Felix inquired while watching him pull the sacks forward.
“I’m getting out of here. While I have the chance,” he said, settling the sacks to the side of the exit and looking around the room for a weapon that was durable to use.
“Quicksilver, you won’t make it to the exit. Even if you manage to elude the guards, there's a storm raging outside of the mountain. You can’t survive Mother Nature's wrath,” he explained, still speaking softly in fear of being caught.
“I don’t care. I survived worse tortures being in this place then dealing with Mother Nature. If Sharp Beak dies trying to chase me, then that is a bonus. I can take my chances with that,” he said, spotting a blunt item that could be used for a weapon. Before he could retrieve it, he felt a tug on his shoulder. His body turned sharply and looked straight at Felix. The arch gryphon placed both of his talons onto his shoulders and kept him in place.
Felix’s expression was serious and a hint of fear was visible as well.
“Listen to me, boy. You don’t want to trifle against him. He will no longer listen to reason, nor will he be deterred in pursuing you. You left a mark on his pride, and it burns deep enough to be avenged. No matter how far you travel, he will relentlessly hunt you down, even to the ends of the earth. There is more to him then you know,” he said.
Quicksilver shook his head and snorted in frustration. Despite Felix’s warning, he already had settled on his path forward.
“I don’t care if he acts like a king. He will not stop me from leaving.”
“Ah, my prize has finally arrived!” a familiar voice on the other side of the tent was raised. Quicksilver immediately hunkered down, bringing Felix with him in the process. He approached the exit and peeked between the crack to look what was before him.
The room had multiple tables and chairs stacked on top of one another. A small fire was settled in the middle, its embers burning low. He guessed that if the room he was in was the preparation room, then the next one over was a serving area. Near the front entrance, he spotted Sharp Beak smiling wickedly while watching a gryphon with a sack over his head being dragged forward.
Black Talon dropped the body in front of Sharp Beak and gave a pleasing grin. “Your prize has been brought forth,” Black Talon said, rubbing his meaty talons together and moving closer to where Quicksilver was. “If you will excuse my friend, a certain Arch-Mage is finally getting his due.”
“You may leave, Black Talon,” he said coldly, his eye never leaving off the gryphon with the sack. Black Talon looked to him in confusion.
“But, I thought-” he stammered, but was cut off by a flick of the colonels talons.
“Go and find the little rats that have scurried away. I wish to be left alone now. Besides, your guard can have a little bit more fun with that bloody codger” he replied, his eyes never wavering off his target. Black Talon reluctantly bowed his head and left for the outside. He exchanged a few words to nearby guards and everything soon became silent.
Sharp Beak looked down at his prey. The body was still for a moment, but Quicksilver noticed breathing. Sharp Beak seemed to marvel for a moment over the body until he placed his talon on the gryphons shoulders and brought him up until he was sitting. The gryphon had the sack over his shoulder and seemed to be stirring. Sharp Beak promptly removed the bag to reveal familiar red feathers.
“Gretchen,” Quicksilver whispered and promptly felt a claw on his shoulder. He looked over to Felix, who immediately shook his head. Getting the message, he remained silent and watched the scene unfold.
“Wake up, dear Gretchen. We have much to discuss,” Sharp Beak said, cutting a loose band off her claws. Without hesitation, Gretchen seethed in anger and lunged a fist directly at him. The blow landed hard on his cheek and he reeled from the blow. Gretchen readied to lunge another blow, but Sharp Beak raised a claw and seized her arm before she could strike him.
“Enough, my dear. I only want to talk.” he said, calmly releasing her arm and watching her. Gretchen remained steady, ready at a moments notice to bolt or flee if need be. Sharp Beak gave a small smile and turned to walk to a nearby table.
“I had thought much over your words to me, Gretchen. ‘Uncle Quill will have my head’ or ‘ I know nothing of kindness or sympathy.’ Well, you got one point right.” He turned to her with grin. “I do know sympathy when I see potential,” he said, resting where he was, his claws at his front and arched forward, ready to strike if need be.
“What do you want, Sharp Beak? As far as I can see, you’re nothing without your lackeys, and you lack a backbone when finishing the job,” Gretchen replied, crossing her arms and standing tall and proud to him.
The colonel huffed at her response and fiddled his talons together, inspecting them and toying an imaginary object. “Yet, you forget my cunning and intrigue among my brethren. How they managed to arrange my escape and how even now are scouring the camp and silencing my rivals and officers under the general. You only figured one part of my plan, while I am already two steps ahead of you,” he explained, his face twisting into another sadistic and sardonic grin. He took a step forward, casting his gaze to the exit of the tent.
“Right now, I already have plans set in motion that not even your uncle can foresee,” he said slowly, yet also in a pensive manner. He then turned to her with his ever malicious smile and took another daring step forward. “I perceived something with you, Gretchen. You’re clever, smart when you need to be, and even a strong warrior. Proud traits to have indeed for a Noble of your stature. That is useful.” Sharp Beak turned his back, looking out to a part of the tent and Quicksilver, for some reason, imagined he was staring at a open window.
“But then I realized, Gretchen, that there is something that is far more valuable than bearing good traits and fame.” He then turned his head and stared directly at her like some great prize. “It’s your blood.” he replied.
Gretchen’s eyes widened in surprise, her body tensed up at his response. Quicksilver could only watch the colonel with much contempt, but also a mild curiosity of what his intentions were.
The colonel then turned fully to face her and puffing out his wings to stand proud before her.
“Gretchen, I want you as my wife.”
The room fell silent as he uttered those bold words. Gretchen looked at him in revulsion and shock by his offer. Quicksilver felt something in the pit of his stomach by his words, wanting to break every bone in that gryphon’s body.
He felt the claw removed from his shoulder, and he turned to Felix who looked at him in… disappointment? Quicksilver could not tell what was going on in the Arch-Gryphon’s mind, nor did he care to think on it. He turned back to Gretchen and waited to hear a response. A moment of silence later, and she gritted her teeth at him.
“This is not my ideal view of courtship. Besides, being your ‘wife’? I think you’ve lost your mind, Sharp Beak,” she said, taking a precarious step back away from the colonel.
“Not at all to me, my dear. I think it works out well for the both of us, and it makes plenty of sense,” he reasoned. “I want to have you as my own. For I am young in my years, good health, strong, and a long life ahead. I wish to share that with a special hen, one who will be taken care of once the fallout is over.” He then paused, thinking upon his own words. “It’s not my grandest idea, but it’s a fair start,” he said, his words still sounding misleading, but Quicksilver could only fathom to their meaning.
“You’re not making sense. You disliked me and treat me and my family like dirt,” she replied, spreading her wings out in show of intimidation. Sharp Beak was not moved by this and chuckled at her display of force.
“Of that, I can agree. But your blood and even your name would be sacred to the likes of me. All needed for my plans for the future. When Nobles and other low life gryphons see that I claimed a Noble hen as my own, then my name will be carried on for many generations, and no gryphon will dispute over me nor question the authority that I have as a Nomad,” he explained, before narrowing his eyes to her. “If you don’t value that, then think of your bloodline and legacy. Think of your own brother Ebon, or your precious Uncle. Even that non blood gryphon Deadeye you consider as a brother,” he explained, almost grumbling the last of his words.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, her wings still holding steady and high.
A smirk came up and he shook his head at her naive questioning. “Right now, at this very moment, a courier is flying straight for Prancy. He is carrying leaflets by the dozens to the inhabitants and to the invaders who recently claimed it as their own. You forget my own devious designs, as I have made forged signatures from your uncle and brother. Upon the papers bare the duplication's and false signatures that claim it was their idea of sacking and razing the city to the ground, even before we left the city and when we recapture it. Once the courier had delivered the leaflets, the Equestrian Army and leaders will be demanding the heads of those responsible for the city’s destruction and all those involved. Leaving me blameless of the whole ruination of the Equine’s precious city,” he explained.
Quicksilver’s eyes widened not only in horror but also outrage. Every word he spoke held the answers to his questions. This explained why the gryphons were fighting from home to home, destroying everything in their path before retreating from the city. Taking anything and everything of value and setting the city to the torch.
The whole idea to sack the city and leaving it in ruin was forged by none other than the colonel himself.
Quicksilver clenched his hooves, and his hatred for the colonel grew even more.
“A scapegoat is needed, Gretchen. Your remaining family will be the perfect solution, leaving you the sole survivor. I’m afraid they won’t survive when I present their heads to Equestria and settle their grudges and debts,” he explained.
Gretchen, after listening to this, lowered her wings, taking his words all in and wrapping her head around the whole ordeal. She would survive, but her family would be killed off.
“This is blackmail!” she said while looking at the ground, his words having confounded her.
“Not necessarily. With them gone, they will leave their grand estate back in Gryphonstone, which has been the most successfully run estate by your family for centuries. And through marriage, it will all belong to me. A hold like that will greatly raise my prestige and my own ambitions,” he said, moving forward until he was right in front of her.
Gretchen looked at him, her eyes narrowed and her next words were filled with much venom.
“I will kill you in your sleep. I’ll slit your throat until your last breath escapes you.”
Sharp Beak laughed at her attempted threat before looking back down to her.
“I would like to see you try. Though, not what I had in mind for you.” He paused, looking at his surroundings before turning back to look at her. “You know, it’s fitting how betrothal begins to a captor to his prisoner. It’s sounds like a perfect symbol for the rest of your life,” he explained, his beak turning into a cruel smile.
“You plan to keep me locked up in a cage?!” she said aghast.
“Well, not literally,” he admitted. “But maybe figuratively.” He then lowered himself closer until he whispered into her ear, which Quicksilver managed to pick up. “As long as you play your part in producing my many… many heirs,” he said, making her shiver at his last remark.
Quicksilver somehow felt sick hearing all this. His sadistic plans, his cruel trap for her family and giving them the blame over his deeds. Felix was right. Sharp Beak was not to be messed around with. In fact, his plans were twisted evil.
And Gretchen. She was having the worst of it, being on the receiving end with everything that she had ever known being taken away from her.
After another moment of silence, Sharp Beak raised his talon and lifted her chin up to meet him in the eye. “It’s all very simple. You will agree to marry me. You will give up your own power and authority. You will give up your ancestral home, but you will be alive and well.” He paused, lifting her talon up with his own and overlapping hers with both of his.
“So Gretchen. Niece of the great and venerable General Quill. What do you say?” he asked.
Gretchen was silent. Quicksilver could see that she was conflicted, though uncertain to what extent. Though the outcome was the same: either she submits under him in forced marriage or she will die with the rest of her family and be framed for a crime that she didn’t commit. Quicksilver felt the urge to move, yet he also felt he should be patient. If at any given moment he did go there to stop him, he would use her as a shield against him.
After what felt like an eternity, Gretchen wordlessly looked up at the colonel, her right claw lifting until it rested on his shoulder. She had a look of worry, and Quicksilver couldn't help but feel that she was giving in. Her talon raised a little higher, caressing Sharp Beak‘s chin and tracing her talon up to the side of his head. Taking the initiative, Sharp Back lowered his head to meet hers, his beak ever nearing her own.
Then, without a warning, she brought her talons and scratched down his left eye.
Sharp Beak reeled in pain, his body taking several steps back as he clutched his wounded eye. Gretchen readied her talons, her right claw already covered in his blood.
“I will not be sold as some cheap whore that you will pleasure over! I will die with my family rather than see myself be wed to a bastard like you!” she screamed out, thrusting herself to attack him once more. He was waiting for her and immediately raised his claws to stop her mid strike, revealing three talon marks across his left eye. He wrestled her by smacking her body into a nearby table, knocking off the chairs and clattering them to the ground. He then pushed her back and lets loose a punch directly across her face. She reeled back for a moment and looked at him again, only to feel a second punch onto her other cheek. She doubled back again, but she lifted her claws and went to slash him.
However, Sharp Beak was quicker.
Outstretching his talon, he slashed at her abdomen and drawing blood. She cried out and fell back, clutching at her stomach and chest. Sharp Beak didn’t let up and he rushed forward by smacking her head against the table. She slumped to the ground from the blow and Sharp Beak looked at her in rage.
“You could have been spared if you had stayed by my side!” he yelled down at her still form. He then smiled wickedly, his tongue licking across his beak. “You’ll live, even if I must dismember a part of your body.” He lowered himself, seizing the end of her head and pulling her up to meet him in the eye.
“You’ll be fine and live, so long as your ‘special parts’ are in tact,” he said, giving a whiff of the air and shuddering slightly. “I can’t wait to take away your special flower and make you mine,” he said, grinning in some twisted fantasy.
“Oh, buck this.” Quicksilver lifted himself up and entered the room, a determined look present on his face.
“Quicksilver, stop!” Felix called out, but he ignored him. He was already halfway to the colonel when he heard his name being called out. The colonel turned and his eyes lit up as if he’d seen a ghost.
“You!” he said aghast, taking a stand on his back legs when Quicksilver was closer. Quicksilver lifted himself to meet his height and unfurl his wings to steady himself. He pulled back his right hoof and was ready to unleash it.
“Yeah, me!” he threw his punch and hit directly onto the left side of the colonel’s face. The impact hit hard, and the colonel flung back from the blow. He struck a table which broke at the center and the colonel was laid flat on his back.
That punch was well deserved he thought, his body feeling as sudden chill of satisfaction.
“Quicksilver!” he heard Felix behind him and he turned to see the Arch-Gryphon already at Gretchen’s side. “What have you done?” he said with an outraged look, but his attention soon focused on her wounds.
“I just gave that bloody, swine-eating snake a taste of his own medicine. What did you think I did!” he said rather loudly, uncertain to why Felix was going on about.
Felix shook his head and focused on her injuries. “Never mind that. I saw some cloth nearby, bring them over to me now!” he ordered, placing his talons over her wound, while she was still clinging to consciousness.
“But what about-” He turned to speak about Sharp Beak, but found that he was no longer on the broken table. Quicksilver noticed the back half of his legs scurrying out of the exit.
“Shit!” he cursed, taking a step forward to the exit.
“Quicksilver! The cloth! Now!” Felix demanded, regaining Quicksilver's attention. Within moments, Quicksilver saw the cloth on a nearby table and brought it over to him. Felix immediately began tearing it into scraps and using the longer strands to wrap around her body. Quicksilver saw that her wounds were deep; the three claw marks were visible and spilling slightly. Felix quickly worked on the wound and ensured that she was cared for. Gretchen then shook her head and narrowed her eyes to see him.
“Felix?” she asked, in bewilderment. Her eyes then wandered over to Quicksilver, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment. Dazed and eyes heavy, she squinted at him and tried to make sense of why he was here.
“Fletching?” she said in confusion, but soon her head lowered and she was out cold. Felix pressed a claw to her forehead, trying to see if she was still lingering.
“She might have a concussion, but I’m certain she’ll be alright. The more immediate problem is getting you both out of here,” he said, still checking on any other wounds before her.
Quicksilver gave him a peculiar look. “What are you going on about?” he asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this.
“Get your things, Quicksilver. You’re going to have a long journey ahead of you,” Felix said, ignoring his question. Quicksilver snorted in annoyance, but did as he was told. It took him a minute to gather the food supplies and settle them onto his back. The four bags were heavy, but since his time laboring here, he found that his body has grown accustomed to heavy lifting. When he went back to Felix’s side, he saw the Arch-Gryphon pacing about and muttering incoherent words that Quicksilver tried to follow.
“He would need to leave, take her with him. He made the claim by striking him and with Gretchen seeing him it brings about...” Felix paused, making small gestures with his claws and ignoring the fact that Quicksilver was next to him.
“Felix?”
“There is no way he can make it without aid. She will need to be tended to when he gets her safe.” Felix paced again, speaking more jumbled words that didn’t make much sense to him.
“Felix?” Quicksilver asked once more but was again ignored.
“To think that he of all gryphons, or pony in this case, would be able to assert himself in such a manner even when he has little to no formal knowledge of ancient gryphon customs.”
“Felix,” Quicksilver said, lifting a hoof and pressing onto his shoulder. Felix reacted by turning to him quickly and grasping at his shoulders. Quicksilver was taken back by the sudden move and found himself being held up in the Arch-Gryphon’s grip, which was surprisingly stronger than he previously noted. He stared at him for a moment, looking him dead in the eye.
“Quicksilver,” he began, still watching him and getting his full attention. “Listen to me carefully. There are certain things in gryphon customs and traditions that you don’t fully understand. What you did can not be fully explained in the short time you have, but understand that you will hold Gretchen’s life in your hooves,” Felix explained, yet not fully describing the situation.
Quicksilver was more confused and questions began to circle in his head. Felix soon let go, but his attention turned to Gretchen, who lied still on the ground with her chest rising up and down in her sleep.
“Gretchen. Will need to be protected. You must be her anchor and support.”
“Felix, I don’t understand what your talking about!” Quicksilver said in confusion and anger. “What do I have a part of this? What does Sharp Beak have do with all of this? Is there anything you’re hiding from me about him?” he demanded, but Felix ignored him and was fiddling with his necklace of crystals.
“There are some secrets that I am even bound to, nor can’t be explained in a short matter,” he replied, removing the necklace and offering the item to him. “Take this. These two crystals will help you on your journey.”
Quicksilver blinked in surprise and uncertainty. When he didn’t reply, Felix went over and began wrapping the necklace around his neck.
“Use them wisely. To employ them, simply call a prayer to Saint Gregor. If your heart is of good intentions, then he will answer,” he said, taking a step back to look at him.
“Felix. None of this makes sense,” Quicksilver said, flaying a hoof out in gesture.
“All will be revealed in time, Quicksilver,” Felix said, giving a small smile. Quicksilver paced about, his mind trying to unravel the strange customs or the conundrum that Felix has spoke. He went to Gretchen’s side, and all he could think is what he did that got Felix so rattled.
“And Quicksilver, one more thing.”
“What!?” he shouted, spinning his head to meet him before turning his attention back to Gretchen.
“I need you to punch me in the eye.”
Quicksilver was silent and he did a double take to the Arch-Gryphon. Felix had said it so bluntly that the pegasus was wondering he heard him right.
“Huh?” he said, lifting an brow to him and was both befuddled and wondered if Felix had lost his marbles.
“You heard me my friend. Punch me directly in the eye.” he explained, taking a simple stand before him.
“Why in all of Equestria would I do that?”
“To avoid any suspicion that I collaborated with you and helped an enemy combatant. Now do it,” he reasoned, standing still and staring at him dead in the eye.
Quicksilver’s ears fell back and he pulled back his lips in a slight frown, uncertain about the whole thing.
“But you’re too good to me. Why would I punch the only other gryphon who cared for me?”
“Quicksilver, this is necessary and convenient for both our sake's. Now get on with it,” he replied, a hint of annoyance was in his voice.
“But still, I-”
“Do it!” he shouted and on instinct Quicksilver threw his weight of his punch directly into Felix’s eye. His head snapped upward for a brief moment from the impact and his mouth hung open. He then looked back at him, his face contorting and adjusting from the blow.
“Well, that did it,” he said. Quicksilver bit his lip and was unsure if he was okay or out of his mind for making him do it. Felix moved to the side, and stared at the entrance for a brief moment, almost looking distant.
“Are you... alright?” Quicksilver asked, wondering if his punch did more harm than good.
“I’m fine, Quicksilver. Just need to rest... my little head...” he explained, but his words slurred and he fell forward to the ground and was out like a light.
Quiksilver was all alone.
“What did I do?” he asked himself, first looking at his hoof then over the two bodies of his caretakers. He had no idea what he had rambled on about, nor did he understand the implications. In fact, he was down right confused from the get go. Gryphon customs and traditions? He knew a little from what Gretchen had explained, but only general themes that they shared and upheld. He had no idea or how far back these traditions were, and no time to ponder on them. He knelt down to see to Gretchen, her wound had stained the cloth but was no longer bleeding.
As he observed her, he noticed a strange burning smell began to fill his nose. He sniffed and the smell of smoke began to fill the air. He coughed once and looked to the source of were the smell was coming from.
His eyes widened when he saw a part of the tent was up in flames.
He looked down and saw a broken lamp near the edge, and with the fire let loose, it grabbed onto the nearest object and sent flames up the tent wall.
“Oh, buck me,” he said. The lamp must’ve fell when Sharp Beak had landed onto the table and sent it to the side of the room.
Thinking quickly, he immediately grabbed Gretchen by the arm and hauled her onto his back. Her body weighed a little and the extra supplies didn’t help either, but he managed to hold his posture and continued to hold her up. He turned to the fire which was already blazing higher in the tent and he knew he had to get out. Using his right hoof, he grabbed Felix by the end of his cloth and dragged at the hem of his cloak. With the strength he could muster, he dragged Felix while carrying the unconscious hen and bags of supplies towards the exit.
After a minute, he managed to get outside and into the center of the camp. Casting a glance back, he saw that the fire was visible and slowly spreading to the rest of the tent and growing in size. He knew that if the fire was not stopped, it would destroy the rest of the supplies inside. Looking about, he spotted the dinner bell nearby. Seeing if there was no gryphon in sight, he made his way towards the item, dragging the unconscious body of Felix with him. Once he was next to the bell, he settled Felix right underneath it. He went to ring the bell with his hoof but hesitated.
He looked about the camp, unsure that if he alerted the camp inhabitants, but also the guards that were on patrol. No doubt the fire wasn't called out, but if he didn’t alert the camp then their whole supplies would be destroyed. Despite the fear, he had to do the right thing.
Quicksilver raised his hoof and pounded onto the bell. The bell rung sharp with each rap of his hoof. The sound carried throughout the camp, and he kept pummeling the bell for as long as he could. After over several dozen bangs upon the bell, a distant voice was heard in the background.
“What the blazes is going on!?”
“There’s a fire! Fire in the mess hall!”
“Get the the supplies quickly!”
“Alert every gryphon!”
The multitude of voices only grew as the entire camp was awakened. Wasting no time, Quicksilver made a beeline towards the direction of the cave entrance. With Felix behind near the bell and with the weight reduced, he weaved through the tents of awakening gryphons, who many began to leave their tents. He passed a few dazed gryphons who looked bewildered by the sight until their attention turned to the fire.
It didn’t take long for him to exit the sea of tents, and after a few minutes of constant running, he stopped until he was sitting in a small crater. He settled the sacks of food and looked up to see the fire was blazing in the distance. He saw many gryphons in the air overlooking the fire while others were carrying supplies out and into the air.
“Quiksilver,” a Prench voice spoke from behind, and he turned see Nightshade and his people quickly approaching him. They carried a few provisions that they had and nothing more. It almost surprised him how stealthy they came up to him; it was most likely one of their special traits of being thestrals.
“Nightshade!” he replied back in kind. Nightshade gave him a peculiar look when he spotted Gretchen on his back, but said nothing when he was at his side. The group of Thestrals huddled around him as he pushed the sacks of supplies forward.
“I grabbed as much as I could. I wish I could have gotten more,” he replied, to which Nightshade shook his head.
“You did all you could, my friend. Hurry, let’s divide up the load,” he explained. Several thestrals immediately dived into the sacks, emptying the contents in quick fashion and giving out to their own people. After a few minutes of them sorting out the provisions, Nightshade looked over to Quicksilver and pointed a hoof to Gretchen.
“Why do you carry the hen upon your back?” Nightshade asked. Quicksilver followed his gaze at Gretchen, who body still on his back with all of her appendages still hanging off of him.
“She was hurt bad. I couldn’t leave her with the colonel hanging about. Had to get her someplace safe, maybe get to her brother even,” he said, unsure of how it was possible. The possibility of getting caught or captured by the Nomad guards was increasing, and every second they spent their time out in the open, the more chance that they would see their quarry making an escape. After another uneasy minute of sorting out the supplies, Nightshade huddled his people close and spoke in a soft voice for them to hear.
“We have to get out of here while we can. With all of us together, I’m certain we can-” Nightshade was about to say when the most unexpected sound. One of the thestrals, a mare and stallion, were chirping loudly and in fear, pointing directly above them. Without needing a translation, Quicksilver turned up to look at what they saw and his eyes widened in fear.
A group of Nomad guards were bearing down on them, shouting and cursing their names.
“Run!” Quicksilver yelled, seizing one of the sacks of his own and hefting Gretchen onto his back as he took off running. The Thestrals followed behind, running as fast as their legs would carry them. Quicksilver could see the cave entrance up ahead. No guards patrolled it, most likely from the fire from the mess tent. He kept running, kept pushing his hooves onward. He checked on Gretchen, who still hung off his back. He turned his gaze upward, seeing the Nomad gryphons gaining speed, their cries for blood filling the air.
He couldn’t outrun them, not like this.
Quicksilver stopped in mid stride, sliding on the snow and turning to face them. With the thestrals running past him, he turned to face the incoming gryphons.
“Quicksilver!” Nightshade called out, turning on his heels to see him.
“Go Nightshade! Go!” he called out, gently placing Gretchen and his sack of supplies to the ground. Taking a stance, he readied himself for the incoming Nomads, and hearing the pounding hooves of the thestrals flee away.
“Surround him!” Black Talon’s voice was heard among the incoming group, and the gryphons did as they were told. The Nomads encircled him, their wings beating heavily and whipping up snow in the air. Quicksilver readied himself, looking at the group around him. There were a dozen of them, some heavily armed, while others carried a few halberds and spears. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes darted from target to target, wondering which gryphon will be the first to make the first strike.
Black Talon gave a huff of amusement, looking between him and Gretchen on the ground. He lifted a large hammer in his talons and pointed directly at Quicksilver. “Sharp Beak ordered for his death. Make it quick boys, otherwise you spoil the fun of his screaming,” he said while laughing in a sickening tone.
One of the nearby guards did just that, letting out a cry and rushing forward with his spear. Timing the lunge, Quicksilver dodged to the side and grabbed the spear mid-lunge, twisting the spear. The gryphon was spun by the momentum and crashed to the snow, weaponless. Quicksilver twisted the spear in his hooves, and stood on his back hooves.
He waited a long time for this.
“Don’t just stand there! Get him!” Black Talon yelled, pushing a few subordinates forward into the fight.
Quicksilver waved his spear wildly at them, keeping them back and waiting for an opening. On his left, the first gryphon lunged his bludgeon weapon, and Quicksilver turned his spear and knocked it to the side, slicing at the gryphon on the side and making him retreat a few steps. The second Nomad lunged at him with his sword, hacking in the air before bringing it down for a killing blow. Quicksilver dodged the swinging blade before deflecting it downward, causing the gryphon to stumble forward. Quicksilver leapt in aerial acrobatics and with his spear, lunged it behind the gryphon and straight into the back of his head. The gryphon was dead on impact, and he pulled the spear out, letting the body drop.
The gryphons around him shouted and three more charged him, forcing him back off from their attacks. He thrusted his spear into one of their shoulders, forcing one back, but the other two rushed him with open claws. He brought his spear up and smacked one across the head and spun on the ground to thrust the spear into his side. The spear struck armor, but with the momentum he was able to push the spear deeper until it punctured flesh. The gryphon cried out, clutching at his side. However, the third gryphon rushed him and tackled him to the ground.
He felt the air escape out of his lungs, feeling the large gryphon’s arms around his body. He then felt a talon pressed against his head, and he stared at the side, seeing Gretchen’s body staying were she was, vulnerable to any of the gryphons around him. The large gryphon straddled him and removed his one claw off his head, allowing him to see the gryphon ready a battle cry. The Nomad gryphon punched him several times, and Quicksilver lifted his front hooves, trying his best to avoid the blows. After several punishing blows, the gryphon lifted his talons and readied to strike.
That is until they heard a loud chittering noise.
Quicksilver watched the nomad turn his gaze to his right, only to be tackled by Nightshade. The two hit the ground hard, and Nightshade quickly raised his head and hissed at his enemy, then lunged his fangs straight into the Nomad gryphon’s neck, biting hard. The Nomad cried out in agonizing pain, and Quicksilver got up to assess the situation. He saw five more thestrals, all male, charge into the gryphons and fighting with hoof and fang. A small, brief smile graced his countenance.
They came back for their friend.
“They’re only bloody bats! Kill them all!” Black Talon ordered, tackling into one of the thestrals. A full on melee broke out among them. The gryphons had the advantage of armor and better weapons, yet the thestrals had their speed. Quicksilver turned his attention to Gretchen and spotted a Nomad bearing a large scar on his face lifting a large blade in his claws.
“Gretchen!” he yelled out and out of his instinct, his wings had broken loose from their remaining bonds. He charged forward with all of his speed, lifting his front hooves and colliding against the gryphon’s head. The gryphon fell back hard and dropped his sword into the ground. Seeing him dazed, it gave Quicksilver time to look upon Gretchen. She was still knocked out cold. A cry of anger raged in the air, causing him to turn his attention back on Black Talon.
“I’ll take care of this myself!” he screamed, marching forward with his own blade towards Gretchen. Quicksilver seized the fallen blade for his own and charged forward and placed himself in front of Black Talon. The corpulent gryphon cried out and brought his blade down hard, with Quicksilver barely blocking the heavy blow. The two locked blades together, and they both stared into each other’s eyes.
“I should have hurled your crippled body off the side of the damn mountain,” he said in anger, spittle coming out from whatever food he had in his beak. “You lived because of Sharp Beak‘s good graces. Now it is time for me to finish you.” He shoved Quicksilver back, and with blade in talon began swinging down at Quicksilver. The pegasus, using his wings to steady himself, even though it pained him, parried the blade. He then swung his blade at the gryphon’s side. Black Talon flicked the blade away with his sword and thrusted a blade towards Quicksilver’s shoulder. He quickly parried and managed to block it in time. Quicksilver backed up a bit, allowing him to sweep his sword towards the ground, hoping to cut Black Talon at the legs. Seeing this, the large gryphon hopped back, regained his footing and charged once again.
The two battled it out in a test of might and will. Blades clashed, parries were traded, verbal insults were shouted, but over a course of a few minutes the two still held their ground. Quicksilver huffed in exhaustion, but he still managed to have energy left in him. Although, he was quite befuddled by Black Talon. Despite his large exterior and ridiculous belly, the gryphon was quite nimble for his size. Able to keep up with him one on one, and was a more decent fighter then other gryphons he has faced. If he was at full strength, the battle would be over already; however, even with his wings crippled and not used for flight, he and Black Talon were evenly matched.
“I can go on with this all night! Come at me, you pest!” Black Talon yelled, reading his blade in a defensive stance. Quicksilver swallowed the lump in his throat and looked around. Two of the five thestrals were killed and the remaining three were using whatever they had to help Nightshade with the half of the gryphons. Their sacrifice would be in vain if he didn’t finish this up quickly. He readied his blade and swung it hard to Black Talon’s side, but the corpulent gryphon was ready and struck the blade with his own. A sharp crack was left on the blade’s true edge, and Quicksilver saw that the blade was not going to last another blow. Black Talon raised his blade once more and swung in a downward motion. Having no choice, he raised his sword to deflect it, but when the blades made contact his sword cracked even further and shattered by the forward momentum. Quicksilver jumped back looking at his shattered blade, which now resembled a broken dagger.
Black Talon laughed at the pitiful display. “Is that it? Is this all you can muster pegasus?” he pointed and laughed, believing he had already won. Despite the shattered weapon, Quicksilver still wielded the broken blade in hoof. Seeing this, Black Talon huffed in annoyance and readied to attack once more.
Before they could clash again, a loud and deep horn echoed throughout the chamber of the cave.
The combatants stopped, hearing the noise. Black Talon’s eyes widened in apparent fear and he turned around and looked up to the top of the cave. Quicksilver followed his gaze and at the roof of the cave, gryphons began pouring into the cave. Battle cries were heard and the deep horn was sounded once more.
“That bloody brigade is back!?” Black Talon yelled out in outrage. Quicksilver had a hopeful smile, realizing that General Quill’s Razor Claws had returned and would no doubt snuff out the coup. Seeing an opportunity, and with Black Talon distracted, he rushed forward with his broken blade and stabbed straight into the back of the plump gryphon.
The blade, however, struck the shoulder blade and Black Talon cried out in pain. The Nomad gryphon spun swiftly around, and Quicksilver felt his talon wrap around his neck. He was lifted up in the air and he choked slightly from the force. With his back legs, he kicked directly into Black Talon’s chest. However, it didn’t deter him, and with a mighty throw, Black Talon sent him into the ground, skidding on the frozen snow.
“You’ll pay for that, you scoundrel!” he said, taking a few steps forward, accompanied by two of his guards. Quicksilver lifted his head, seeing the blade was still embedded into Black Talon, and saw the two gryphon Nomads coming closer. He tried to back away, but one of the Nomads in heavy armor rushed forward and planted his heavy paw onto his chest, forcing him to stay on the ground. Quicksilver looked up in dread, seeing the heavy Nomad raising a halberd and ready to stab him. He narrowed his eyes and shouted at them in defiance and the gryphon lunged his weapon.
But was blindsided completely by a large mace smacking into him.
The Nomad gryphon was sent flying, and the sound of crunched metal filled the air. The gryphon spun once in the air before landing face first into the snow. A large blue shape came forward in Quicksilver’s line of sight and the blue figure raised his mace and brought it down onto the Nomad before he could get up. The helmet the gryphon wore disappeared under the mace with a solid crunch, and the body twitched before coming still.
Quicksilver blinked in surprise when he saw that it was Ironhide.
The second gryphon rushed to meet Quicksilver, but another large object, this time an axe, smacked him across the face and spun him around. He spun until he landed on his knees and claws, with a second minotaur coming forward. It was the same brown bull with tribal tattoos on its chest and his massive paws wrapped firmly on the Nomad’s head. With a few solid twists and loud cracking pops, the minotaur lifted up both paws and the gryphon’s head was removed from his shoulders.
Quicksilver watched Black Talon back away from the two minotaurs, who’d took out his guards with ease.
“Oh, bollocks to this! Run!” he called out, immediately taking flight. The other Nomad gryphons took off without question, heading off to parts unknown. Quicksilver raised himself up and stared at the back of Ironhide’s muscular frame. The bull breathed heavily in the cold night air, and his body seemed to give off much heat. The bull turned his head ever so slightly and his beady green eyes looked down to Quicksilver.
The two locked eyes, a sense of understanding seeming to pass between the two. Ironhide nodded to him, before turning toward his companion and the two headed off towards the encampment. Quicksilver saw up ahead that the camp was in chaos. He could hear fighting breaking out, and shouts and orders being called out with the fire still raging.
He turned back to the thestrals, and only four remained from the group that came to help. One of them carried a injured Nightshade on his back while other two grabbed any weapon that they could carry.
He hoped he was okay.
Quicksilver looked at them and they in turn turned to him at the chain of events that has happened. Quicksilver motioned his head towards the cave entrance.
Without a word exchanged, the thestrals took off towards the cave entrance with what they had, taking quick flight and making a break for it. Quicksilver looked down to Gretchen, seeing her body still remained unconscious on the cold floor. Not wanting anything to be left to chance, Quicksilver reached down and lifted her up.
He was probably making one of the most dumbest decisions in his life, but after how badly the gryphons came at him and threatened Gretchen he had no choice. He didn’t want to risk her well-being over his own. He quickly got Gretchen onto his shoulders and her body rested somewhat comfortably onto his back.
“There he is! Kill him!” A gryphon called out, making Quicksilver spin around. He cursed when he saw a pack of Nomads barreling down on him. Going down, he picked up his sack of food with his teeth, slung it on his back and bolted for the entrance.
His legs pounded upon the ground as he ran, kicking up snow into the air. He was too weary of battle and he had no chance to fight off this pack of gryphons, not on his own. So all he could do was run, flee as fast as he could before being overrunned.
He soon was inside the cave entrance. The place was nearly pitch black, were it not for a few torches outlining the walls and lighting his way. He galloped upon the hard stone walls, his hoof steps echoing and rebounding all around him. He could hear the sounds of clanking armor and shuffle of wings. The gryphon Nomads were gaining ground.
He kept running, kept pushing, hoping to get out of this alive. He heard a strong wind in the distance. He was getting close, so close to freedom he could almost taste it.
The Nomad gryphons were nearly upon him, he could hear breathing behind his neck. He didn’t dare look back, only doubling his efforts and making his final push towards the exit. With another burst of speed coursing through his body, he charged forward with every ounce of energy he had and took off faster and away from his pursuers.
The wind was louder, and he felt the cold snow upon the ground. He readied his wings, extending them to the farthest reach. The moment he was outside, he was hit by a blast of cold air and blinding snow, and he stopped in his tracks from it all. He looked behind, seeing the figures of the Nomad gryphons barreling right at him, seeing only their golden eyes filled with rage and hate.
Quicksilver’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks and he took off running, knowing what he was about to do was crazy and suicidal. Grabbing the supplies with his teeth and supporting Gretchen on his back he extended his wings. With a few kicks of his legs he galloped off the side of the mountain, with his hunters barely missing him by inches.
With his wings extended, he tried to keep himself steady with the sack of supplies in his mouth and with Gretchen resting on his back. His wings caught the wind and he soared into the maelstrom. A small smile seemed to grace him as he floated in the torrent wind and the brutal snow that pelted his coat. However, the joy of flight seemed to last for a few precious seconds before the pain began to be unbearable in his wings. He felt an updraft, knocking his wings off balance. He spun wildly in the air, his precious cargo falling off his back.
His screams were silent from the deafening storm around him, and he and Gretchen fell into the darkness of the mountain below.