Gabriella obviously wasn’t from any of the clans of birds who ruled the Republic now, or even the empire at the time of the Migration War. I might not have an exhaustive knowledge, but I had a fair idea about the distinct physical patterns. This bird was indeed one of the Equestrian variety, with feathers in a simple pidgeon gray.
“I had a visit from Dawn yesterday,” she said, glaring down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “She told me you might be coming.” She looked me up and down for a few more moments, predatory eyes stern. “You, really? With the princess?”
“She told you that?” I looked away, though not for long. It was only this pony’s connection to the emperor that made the conversation awkward.
“Her scent did, and yours. You know that everyone can smell it, right?”
Ponies can’t. I shrugged it off as best I could, grinning weakly. “So what? I thought I’d just come back with notes. Guess I brought back something better.”
Gabriella laughed, clasping a claw on my shoulder. Not hard enough to cut into my coat, but certainly hard enough to yank me into her office. “I like you. Questions then, yes? That’s what you do?”
I nodded. “I’ll be brief. Really I’m just trying to fill in the gaps for what I learned while in the Republic. I kinda… didn’t stay as long as I expected to. For… reasons previously discussed.”
She laughed again. “Oh, I bet. Wanted out with your head. Not the dumbest pony in the world, maybe. Still pretty dumb.”
Her office was comfortable, but lacking the usual trophies of wealth I had come to expect from other birds in her position. There were no vast supplies of relics, or artistic recreations of the Empire ruling over the world. Not even an old piece of less than good taste, with birds triumphing over Celestia or similar “art.”
Instead there were cabinets and scrolls, the kind of thing I might’ve had in my own office if I ever had one. A few maps, and a little safe off in one corner. The only expensive object I could see was the mechanical adding machine by the wall, itself hundreds of pounds of metal and glowing faintly with the unicorn magic that powered it.
I’m told you were an administrator for house Vengeance. Is that right?
I didn’t start that way. Honestly it was just bad luck that I was in Griffinstone when the Migration War started in the first place. I’d spent much more of my time with ponies before that.
Did you have anything to do with supplying the city? That’s my main inquiry—I want to know how birds fed themselves, before and after the eruption.
I have some experience with it, more after Ignis than before. But I did speak with several of the old administrators, and I know how they did it. But you’re a pony, so I know you’re not going to like it. Slavery, obviously. They bred their own ponies, with a population in the hundreds of thousands. Many of the citizens of New Scythia were once farmers in the empire. Their pony magic still worked, even if they didn’t understand it.
Why would you want anything to do with the… disgusting institution?
Because I was part of it. I’m not saying ponies are wrong about this—you’re right. It was horrible and I would’ve let them all free right then if I could. But Vengeance would’ve killed me. I couldn’t upend their whole way of doing things just because I hated it. I wasn’t a princess, and there weren’t any to seduce, either. I couldn’t end the practice. If I couldn’t make it stop, I could try to make sure slaves got fair treatment. And… maybe doctor the books so more of them could afford their own freedom.
You probably don’t know the laws, but that’s one of the ways a slave used to be able to get free. Save up enough wages, and they could buy themselves out. Practically, it took way too long for most of them to afford it. What little money they earned, they used for other things. But I could cheat!
This isn’t the subject I’ve come to investigate. Accipian slave practices are too controversial to publish. I’m sure that if I tried to write about this too much, even Twilight wouldn’t want my book printed. A braver scholar than I would have to write about them on some future day.
Before the Migration War, Accipio was self-sufficient, wasn’t it? Did any of the other scholars and administrators you talked to tell you about that?
A little. They told me about Land. Pony farms are better, but the Empire had more of them. And… you look shy about it. But the ponies were all earth. The climate could be unpredictable, there were crop failures from droughts and bad winters. But there were stockpiles so that wouldn’t happen. Not to mention meat. But I didn’t eat any of that, because I grew up with ponies, and… yeah, I can see what you’re thinking. They did it, I didn’t, you get the idea.
I suppress a shudder, but not very well. She can clearly see it.
So griffons kept up agriculture with lots of land. They didn’t have that when they settled in the Badlands. Do you know anything about that?
Only what I learned after the Migration War. The other administrators sounded like they had even less while everything was still happening. When the eruption was new, and the planet was still trying to makes us die and all.
See, ponies gave Accipio desert to support a ton of birds. We had a huge stockpile going in—that kept things off for a while. But the emperor knew that wouldn’t work. Every city did things a little different. Some of the ones in the jungle started hunting and learned to husband the weird plants. The northern ones traded with ponies for… priceless treasures. But food is better than gold.
Griffonstone had things easier than New Scythia, since we already had a good balance between fishing and farming. We did a little more of one when our farms didn’t do as well. Then after the war ended, we got pegasi to help like lots of cities did.
I can sense the resentment there. Gabriella has been more than cooperative so far, so I don’t press on that subject.
But if you worked for the emperor, you must have been in New Scythia, right?
Eventually. I got poached.
And you didn’t have a jungle. You were the southernmost of all the settlements.
We were on the fast-track for starvation, after the war. I’m sure you know earth pony magic as well as I do, but just because it’s magic doesn’t mean it’s magical. You can’t put a seed in sand and have a pony walk in a circle around it. I tried that way back when, trying to get my own Cutie Mark. But intention just doesn’t do it. You’ve either got the magic in you or you don’t.
Crops need the right amount of sun, and we only had a few that could survive heat like that. Crops need water, and water needs to come from somewhere. The current emperor was close with the empress, even then. Something they figured out together made him ask Equestria for help. Instead of trading for food, we hired ponies.
I know there was a settlement of ponies in New Scythia when it fell, and now I know why. I scribble that down eagerly.
And that worked?
You’re a pegasus.
Not much of a pegasus. I can’t even fly.
She laughs. Do you know how your magic works?
Not really. Weather.
Weather. We were close enough to the coast that we could send out huge teams to capture moisture from over the sea and bring it inland. The New Scythia factory wasn’t finished, that was years after the war. But we could get rain simple enough even without machinery. If you’ve been to New Scythia since then, you can see how well it works. Lots of my old construction is still in use today.
I haven’t. We’re planning to go when we’re done in Griffonstone.
Good. Go see what ponies and griffons can accomplish when they’re working together. This place… the resentment goes too deep. The birds here hate Accipio for pressuring them into military service. We hate what Vengeance did to their city. But we remember the stories our grandsires told us, about the ancient Equestrian enemy who wouldn’t let us return home.
Griffonstone is my home. I had to come back when New Accipio didn’t need me anymore. But I know we’ll never be a city like that one. For us, it’s just about keeping some of our old culture alive, and being satisfied with the mixture of pony and griffon that we’ve become.
This is something new, something I hadn’t thought to learn. But Griffonstone is certainly relevant to the war, and there’s no reason why I shouldn’t take advantage of every opportunity to learn more about it.
Why would birds hate what Vengeance did to Griffonstone?
She looks indignant. They built a factory, sure. No bird minded back then, when they knocked down old houses. Griffonstone was a dying city, and any change was for the better. But building factories and a monastery wasn’t all Vengeance did. They needed birds to work in the factory. And when that wasn’t good enough, they wanted birds to hold rifles and fight Equestria. My friends, my family. And me, eventually.
I fell silent for another moment, nodding respectfully.
Thank you for explaining that. Were there any other difficulties facing New Scythia? Other than feeding it?
She laughs again. The better question would be if anything did work in the city. When I took over, the city was struggling. Its farms were drying out, the wells were running out of water. But our… slaves… were strong, and expert builders. No trees, no fuel, nothing but stone houses… I’m amazed Equestria could sleep at night knowing they’d sent birds to live in a barren desert. At least the other Houses had creatures to hunt and firewood to burn.
New Scythia did better than any of the others. It’s the only one still standing.
Gabriella rises from her chair, pacing around to the window and opening it to look out on the city below. They didn’t all have me. And more importantly, none of the other birds were trying to build a city to last. Everyone else thought the eruption wouldn’t keep them out of their old homeland for more than a few years.
But Guinevere and her scientists knew otherwise. Gaius listened to his wife, and so they prepared for the long term. New Scythia looks like a capital now, even if it’s just a colony of outcasts. You’ll see.
“Thanks for answering all my questions,” I said, rolling up my notes and tucking them away into a saddlebag. “I’m sure you’re busy with… another city to administrate.”
She shrugged, gesturing out the window with a wing. “Griffonstone doesn’t take much work, not compared to anywhere in Accipio. It’s really a pony city when you get right down to it, and pony cities are… easier. Interconnected, instead of independent. She doesn’t try to make everything herself.”
Now that made sense to me. And a great deal that I’d seen in Griffonstone, really. I almost said so, until I realized how far I’d already got myself. Deepening tensions with Equestria’s semi-independent griffon state was probably not the way to make Twilight not want to kill me.
“Is there anything else we should see while we’re here?” I asked instead. “Dawn is… not terribly interested in scholarly work. At least not when it isn’t dangerous.”
She nodded. “If you’re up for a flight, there are some excellent hot springs near the peak. But… you said you couldn’t fly.”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered, turning to leave. “I suppose that means we have reason to come back.”
I made it to the door before she stopped me, clearing her throat loudly. “I answered all of your questions. Isn’t it fair you answer one of mine?”
I stopped, turning back around. “Sorry, uh… of course. Anything.”
“Were you serious about your relationship with Princess Radiant Dawn when you started?” She didn’t actually wait for my answer. “Because if I know anything about her father, it’s that he’s bucking serious about protecting his family. She loves you now—good. But you better make sure you don’t end up on bad terms.”
Needless to say, I didn’t think telling her that wasn’t a question was a good idea. “I’m sure,” I said. “And… she seems to be too. I think she was sick of birds who wanted to use her. For some reason, birds seem… disgusted with her. I don’t understand.”
“Purity,” she muttered, voice bitter. “Maybe she is better living with ponies. Just do yourself a favor and treat her like a princess. Because if you don’t, one day her father will hear about it. You don’t want Velar to be your enemy. Assuming he… doesn’t already want your head for the wall.”
I laughed, and she did too. Hopefully that was a joke.
It had to be a joke, right?