A prince!
A bloody prince!
Quicksilver blood boiled in his veins of hearing those words. He would never have guessed that Sharp Beak was even related to royalty, or to anyone famous for that matter. It never even occurred to him during his time with the gryphons that the gryphon nomad was just another power hungry officer seeking fame. Yet, it all made sense to him now. From his constant prattling, to his ego and self claim to glory, it would make him feel superior to those around him.
“Fletching,” Gretchen muttered, her talons tensing slightly underneath his hoof. Quicksilver cast a glance to her, seeing how fixated she was on Sharpclaw. He kept his gaze in front of them and could only watch.
Gansukh was the first to move, lifting his lumbering body out of his seat to stare down at the colonel.
“A prince? Gansukh see’s no prince. Just dumb bird making excuses.” he took one step forward to him. “Why should Gansukh believe you?”
“Because I can give you what you want,” Sharpclaw stated, turning to Glenwing first and foremost. The older gryphon glared at him, showing nothing but contempt for the colonel claiming princehood.
“Glenwing… you remember me, don't you?” he asked, his voice sounding droll and threatening, “I remember clearly how when I once sought entrance to the castle you were there personally to bare me from entering.”
“You no damn well as to why. I should not waste my breath to a cretin like you.” Glenwing grumbled, his eyes never leaving him.
He lingered on the old gryphon for a moment, reminiscing on some faint memory, before moving to the king, watching him with predator eyes for any sudden movements. He seemed to almost sneer at him, showing nothing but contempt for Bronzeclaw.
“Do you have anything to say father? Or should I even call you that at all since you rejected everything that I astound to?” he said, clenching one of his talons into a fist. The king said nothing, staring out to some distant plain, not even showing interest to what Sharpclaw had to say. Sharpclaw spat at his father, the spittle landing on his face, but he did not move in the slightest. Sharpclaw chuffed at this and bended down to meet him, “And to think that our family line had such a weak and feckless king. When I’m done the gryphon empire will have not a king, but they shall have their first emperor.” he stated, and walked over to Artemis, who was shaking considerably when he approached.
“Little Artemis,” he said, low and chilling, “I remember that you and I played with each other outside in the gardens. We have met several times over the years and always enjoyed our meetings. Don’t you remember sister?” he hunched low, his face in front of her and she peeled her eyes away from him.
“T-t-t-t that was b-b-b-efore I knew what happened and who you were. Y-y-y-you attacked my friend f-f-f-for giving me a kit. I-I-I loved that little kit.” she stammered out her words, clearly fearful of him being so close. He didn’t bother with her being afraid, for he brought out a talon and brought it under her chin and pulled it until they were facing each other once again.
“It was for good reason. I only wanted companionship and being siblings. I merely removed an obstacle that stood before me.”
“B-b-but you killed that baby fox, and I never s-s-saw my friend again,” she replied meekly. He made a harrumph sound and brought her closer, ensuring that their eyes met.
“A filthy and disgusting beast that was going to take your love. He was attempting to steal you away from me. It was a good thing I cornered him and clipped his wings. It served him right for trying to steal what was mine.” he claimed and Artemis gasped, appalled at what he claimed to have done. Quicksilver shuddered slightly from the thought.
To clip one’s wings is to take away their freedom to move through the skies. To be grounded and to be forced to defend yourself from the predators below.
That is a fate that is worse than death.
Sharpclaw mingled around Artemis, enjoying toying with her and her emotions. He leaned into her taking a whiff of her and she squirmed in his grip, yet he held her firmly and did not relinquish his hold. He was enjoying himself and his control over her and the given situation. While this happened Quicksilver noticed that the king had turned his head to face him, and Quicksilver was barely able to see that the king had been fixated on him for his daughter's treatment.
“Maybe you can keep me company tonight, catch up with what was once lost.” he said in an alluring manner. Artemis fidgeted in place, trying to get away from him and her eyes bulged in fear at what he might do to her.
“Get your filthy talons off her you bastard!” a strong baritone voice spoke out. Sharpclaw turned to his father, who was looking at him now. “If you so much as harm her I will tear your claws off and rip your eyes from their sockets,” the king threatened, despite being in the position he was in. Sharpclaw looked amused, letting go of Artemis while he tranced around the king, amused by his sudden backbone. Sharpclaw chuckled to himself, standing over the king while the latter snorted in both frustration and anger.
“Finally have spine now do you? Your only interested if it involves your family… or a brother in arms… or a whore to take your anger on and leave behind.” He said with much scorn and bitterness.
“What happened in the past remains as such. You’re a bastard and will always remain one,” King Bronzeclaw replied, “ I thought your mother taught you that much,” he said with a guile grin. Yet, despite the bravado, a swift strike from Sharpclaw sent him to the ground, the king spitting blood through his beak. Sharpclaw lowered himself, staring at the helpless king.
“If you did not abandon her then this would never have happened. You sidled up with that whore hen and had Artemis, making her the heir when by all accounts it should have been me. Now I take what's mine and all that you hold dear will belong to the true and rightful heir.” he said, pausing when he heard a scuffle nearby.
Quicksilver eyed the equine moving erratically, agitated over what was happening and thrashing about against their captors. The guards raise a rope around his neck to keep him steady yet the equine yanked his head back and the two tumbled forward. The equine lifted its wings which look leathery and bat like and was a head taller than normal, almost about the same height as some of the other guards. The gryphons in question were struggling against the equines strength, yet they held firm, holding him down with the rope that binds him. Sharpclaw seemed to grin at this and he snapped his talons to his guards.
“Bring him here,” he said, ushering them forward. The guards managed to pull the thestral forward and in front of the three captors. While they struggled with the prisoner Sharpclaw gave his flintlock to Black Talon, the corpulent and greasy gryphon took it without question and was reloading the weapon with ease. When the thestral was placed firmly between the prisoners and himself did Gansukh snorted in irritation.
“What trickery is this now?” the Kahn shouted, stamping his mighty hooves into the ground and making small indents into the snow. Behind him his brother cackled.
“This is but a gift, Gansukh.” Sharpclaw spoke, placing a talon onto the cloth sack and pulling it free off the thestrals head. The Thestral lifted it’s head, folded its tuft ears, opening it’s bright yellow eyes and hissed directly at him. Without warning the yaks nearby skittered back, all of them shouting and raising their horns at the thesatral. Some shouted in their native tongue, while other warriors pointed their horns at the thestral like it was some beast ready to eat them. A few among them began rubbing the tips of their horns and Gansukh remained where he was, impassive but snorted in anger at the thestral, while his brother screamed out and stamped his hooves into the ground.
Sharpclaw said nothing, taking his time with how the yaks reacted and give a calculated look to their response. Quicksilver wondered if he had intended this. Behind the colonel the three gryphon prisoners stared at the thestral, clear worry and fear grew for him.
“Judging by your obvious disdain for this creature, it stands to count that you naturally fear it.” he stated, to which Gansukh held his head up high and snorted in vexation.
“You insult Yak courage? Yak crush you for insult!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, readying his horns for a fight. However, he hesitated when the thestral male was bucking from his restraints from the guards and his wings flapping about at a rapid pace. The thestral managed to shake off one of the guards by throwing him off and take to the air. The two other guards held onto the rope, attempting to restrain the thestral before it could escape. The yaks that the thestral hovered over, shuddered and backed away a few feet, shouting and wailing out in apparent alarm.
“Get ahold of him you fools!” Black Talon shouted, the portly gryphon finishing reloading the weapon for his leader.
Sharpclaw took a few steps forward, grabbing onto the end of the rope and knocking his guards out of the way. The thestral shouted and chittered, flying in rapid circles in the sky and trying to break the hold of the gryphon. Yet despite the edge of being in the air, Sharpclaw held his position, barely moving and hardly braking a sweat.
“Chotgor!” one of the yaks shouted, cowering behind an elder warrior, but even though the warrior was older, he looked rather intimidated by the bat like creature. Other warriors around the camp were no better, all fixated on the thestral that would seemed to pose a threat, even when they outnumber it a hundred to one.
What’s a Chotgor? Quicksilver thought, watching the thestral desperate struggle in the air. He panted and struggled, trying to break free. Yet, the rope around his neck was tight, and surprisingly, Sharpclaw had never lost his guard. Instead, he seemed to enjoy the challenge of holding onto his prey.
Minutes to what felt like an hour flew by, the thestral still beating his wings, hissing to all and trying to escape into the sky. Yet, as time passed, his strength waned, his breath became ragged, and he could not break free. Sharpclaw's own breath was ragged, but he still held on, and every now and then pulled the thestral towards him, inching him closer to the gryphons dreaded talons. The yaks watched on while Sharpclaw continued his tug of war. Many had not cowered once before but still remained at the ready, while others looked on in amusement at the struggling thestral.
Another precarious minute passed and the thestral was losing his strength, his flapping wings was no longer holding the same tempo and remained a slow freefall. Foam seemed to appear at the edge of his mouth and his breath came out in ragged desperate breaths. This encourages Sharpclaw and he twisted the ropes in his talons before yanking hard on the rope.
The thestral was thrown out of the sky in a whiplash and struck the ground hard with a solid thump.
The thestral coughed and gagged, trying desperately to get back up but was too exhausted to move. While he remained there, Sharpclaw held onto the rope, gazing at his prisoner and a cruel smile grace his beak. A cruel machination building in his mind of what he was wanting to do.
“These creatures are just like you. They bleed and die just as you!” Sharpclaw called, out to all around him. The yaks remained where they were. A few fearful, others impassive. Gansukh remained where he was, his eyes remained fixated on the thestral that continued to struggle with the rope. “These beasts, the ones that have put fear into your hearts and minds for many years will finally be put to rest,” he began walking to the thestral, still holding onto the rope. The Thestral noticed this and tried to crawl away, but he didn’t get far as Sharpclaw put the talon down onto his back.
“Yaks! Gryphons! I have proposed this alliance, to defeat back against the equines and these barbaric creatures. I have spent many years interrogating these beasts and I have found that their homeland, the very birthplace of these vermin, has been discovered. I offer a choice! Live in fear and to remain dormant in your lands. Or join us, fight back against the Equestrians, take over their lands! Conquer to your heart's desire! And above all, you can kill the very beasts that plague you, down to their last child!” he shouted, releasing the rope and grabbing a hold of the thestral’s wings.
The thestral panicked, struggling in his grip while he slowly began to pull on his wings. The twisted smile that Sharpclaw had turned to a sneer of pure malice, placing his back paw in between the wings of the thestral. The poor equine began to scream out, feeling his wings being painfully pulled. The sound of bones popping out of their sockets and a shrill scream echoed across the walls around the camp.
Quicksilver shuddered along with Gretchen, hearing the bones break and crack under the pressure and the shuddering holler that the thestral gave out. He continued to wince while the thestral clawed into the ground, trying his best to get away from him. Shouting came out from both the king and from Glenwing, but their voices were muted from the horrifying ear splitting screams. Sharpclaw placed his paw down onto his neck, forcing his face to be in the snow. Tears streamed down the thestrals cheeks, continuing to scream out. Sharpclaw’s arms and shoulders began to bulge from overexertion and the sound of breaking bones were heard in the thestrals wings.
“For even these beasts bleed!” Sharpclaw shouted, emphasizing the last words, and with a final effort yanked on the thestals wings.
The wings were torn off his back completely leaving only two bloody stubs from the thestrals back.
Gretchen turned her head away, pressing into Quicksilver mane while he was mortified by what he did, sickened to the core. Sharpclaw held onto the broken wings, leaving the appendages to bleed and form into tiny pools of blood on either side of him. His prey remained immobile, a wordless cry escaping him at first before crying out, low and heart wrenching. Blood rushed out from the two gaping wounds, spurting out in search of where part of his wings were still attached. It only splattered the snow in hot crimson red.
While his victim writhed and moaned in agony, a sound of quivering fear he seemed to make, Sharpclaw dropped the leathery wings and snapped his talon to his company. One of the gryphons carrying a torched moved over to him, offering a source of light to the mad prince. Without even pausing to acknowledge him Sharpclaw grabbed the torched and thrusted into the open wound of the thestral.
The thestral arched his back and screamed anew, half moaning and half screeching he shouted to the sky from the pain that he was enduring. Quicksilver and Gretchen flinched from the direct contact and even they had to look away from the torture. Sharpclaw kept the torch their for a few seconds until he moved to the second bloody stub. Another cry but less potent as the first escaped past the thestrals lips before his eyes rolled back into his head and collapsed into the snow in front of him. He had passed out when Sharpclaw was done, removing the torch and giving it back to his guard. The two stubs were cauterized, blackened and bloodied, where visible veins bleed between the cracks.
“You blackhearted monster,” King Bronzeclaw spoke, Sharpclaw turned to him amused. The king had his head held up, his eyes fixated on his son, while Artemis looked on and wept for the thestral. Glenwing could only stare vehemently at Sharpclaw, ready to spring on him and tear him apart, if it weren't for the bonds that held him there.. Sharpclaw observed the silent thestral for a brief moment before turning to his father, who still held no shortage of anger.
“I see you were quite fond of him.” he said, gesturing a talon to the thestral, who remained near motionless and bloodied on the snow floor, “I take it you found this mongrel starving out in the wilderness? Did you take pity and raise him as your own? Or were you planning on giving Artemis to him like she was some cheap tramp while you contemplate how good of a son he might be to you.”
“Leave her out of this! Leave the equine who has helped us out of this! You know nothing, Sharpclaw. You know nothing of the mantle of responsibility when ruling. You were not not meant to rule!” the king said, his body stiffening up and appearing all the more regal. The sneer returned to his son's face, turning to face the king.
“We are blood! You are my sire and your blood flows through me! I am not some mongrel for you to cast aside!” he called out, his claws clenching and his arms bulged once again.
“You and I are not of blood. I have never accepted you. I have never claimed you. For that reason alone, you have no right or authority to the throne.” he said, still keeping his back straight and not once backing down. The other gryphons behind him remained unmoved by his words and it only spurned Sharpclaw even further. Without a word he began moving forward, standing on his back legs while his wings were outstretched to keep himself balanced. He stretched his right claw out towards Black Talon, where the corpulent gryphon stretched out his claw with the flintlock. Sharpclaw seized it and checked it and examined the weapon, all the while moving closer to his father. Bronzeclaw saw this and scoffed before turning his head to see the gryphons behind him.
“Know this! Sons of Gryphonstone! Death will come swiftly to those who follow this path! You throw your life away for a tyrant who will not know how to lead, to govern nor even be able to lead the people. He will bring ruin and destruction to our lands, our people will starve as he hoards everything to himself! He will strip our resources, squander them until there is nothing for us and we will be forced to fight to survive! Think of the thousands if not millions of gryphons yet to be born? They will never know anything of what makes us united and strong, what makes our society function. Will be nothing about a warmongering race!
"His damn pride will be his undoing and he is willing to tear down the very fabric of our culture!” he shouted, a stern and determined expression plastered on his face. Many of the older gryphons there remained where they were, unfazed by his words. However, near the back, a few young bloods and harried youths looked uneasily to each other.
Quicksilver could only imagine they were doubting what Sharpclaw had to say but as far as he could tell it was a guess at this point.
The king turned to face Sharpclaw, who was already standing in front of him and his flintlock resting at his side. Sharpclaw looked irritated if not infuriated, his eyes fixated on the gryphon who he considers his father. His talon gripped tightly on the flintlock and he snorted at him. Bronzeclaw ignored the weapon he carried and gave an equally determined if not aggravated look in return.
“You heard me little juvenile. What you do is tearing apart our very culture asunder. Your actions are tearing down our traditions, our society, our honor! You have no idea what you are about to do and we will be in unceasing war and endless terrors to befall our very nation. The very heart of our country will become desolate because you are not ready for this!” He shouted, clear condemnation coming forth from him. Sharpclaw remained where he was, silent and his eyes never leaving him.
When he didn’t reply back the king continued ranting on.
“Don’t you realize what folly you have committed? The lives that you have taken and ruined just to serve your twisted pleasure? Some self satisfaction? All of this in an attempt to become closer to being a leader? You don’t know the true meaning of being a leader, for you are refuse that is to be cast aside!” he shouted, and a venomous sneer spread across Sharpclaw’s face.
“Are you quite finished coward?” Sharpclaw spoke, his flintlock lifting ever slightly from its original position. Bronzeclaw didn’t relent and continued on his charade.
“You have been going against our backs, turning friends into rivals! Turning some of our hated enemies to ally with us and spitting upon our ancestors tombstones and what they have endured. This will never be forgotten yet your name will be cast aside and to never be met on the lips of non gryphons and our own race. For as long as our race has the Strength of Heart, Strength of body, the Strength of Mind, we will always be united against your rule.” he proclaimed, still standing up for himself and against Sharpclaw.
Sharpclaw lifted the flintlock, hovering in front of Bronzeclaw and his talon on the trigger.
“Any last words? Or will you give me useless drabble and false bravado?” Sharpclaw asked, his voice cold and unmoving. Bronzeclaw spat at the ground in front of him.
“Go ahead! Kill me! Do your worse your cretin.”
“Father no!” Artemis shouted in abject fear.
“My king!” Glenwing called out, showing much concern for his liege.
Gretchen had tightened her claw around Quicksilver’s hoof and his hurt wing instinctively secured around her frame. Sharpclaw remained still, his eyes never leaving him and, from what Quicksilver could guess, an aura of malice surrounded him for his father and for what he is.
“No this, my bastard son,” the king spoke once again, low but directed. “No matter what you do, no matter how high you climb, the tower of your pride will come crashing down. When the hammer falls, breaking your throne brick by brick, will you see that I was right, and that your venture into this madness will only consume you. By Saint Gregor himself, your life will end and your soul will have no rest for all eternity. You are unworthy of the throne! For I, King Bronzeclaw, will be the last king of the Gryphon empire!” Once finished, he was silent, awaiting his death at the barrel of the gun. Sharpclaw inhaled and closed his eyes.
The shot rang out.
Both Quicksilver and Gretchen’s breath hitched, the cry from Artemis was short but brief and Glenwing only looked to the side of the ground.
King Bronzeclaw still stood, a large hole in the ground was at his side, where it began to smolder.
The king was alive.
Sharpclaw had moved his weapon a few inches to the side and purposely missed the king. Bronzeclaw still looked up to his son. He looked stunned, if not dazed, and yet he remained unharmed. However, a cold sweat seemed to break out of the king, and his unwavering eyes were now shaken and his fortitude had collapsed. His life would have been snuffed right then and there, and now the king has been reduced to his former self, downtrodden and defeated.
Sharpclaw turned the gun nonchalantly to the side, with Black Talon easily taking it out of his grip, and kept his gaze remaining on his father. He took a step forward and bent down to meet him square in the eye.
“You live because I let you. But know this father, of what I am about to do.” he said, leaning in and speaking in his ear.
“I will take everything from you. All that you have loved, all that you have cherished, will be cast aside and destroyed. I will change our nation for the better and you will not stop me from achieving what I want. You will watch as your precious city of gryphonstone is reduced to ruin and rubble and rebuilt to how I see fit. The tribe of Nomads will rise, the tribe of nobles will fall, and the Arch Gryphons will be enslaved and die out with their pathetic religion and useless dogma.” he paused, lifting a claw and clasping it around his father’s neck.
“You will see that our culture be changed, our very society turned, and the few and the powerful will control over the weak and feckless deplorables that seek to usurp my rightful place as king. I will reshape them in my own image and ensure that the true gryphon heritage will be in place. All records of our old history be burned and no trace will be left of it while I forge a new path forward for the glory of the gryphon empire. You will watch as I do all of this and conquer the lands beyond our borders. Conquer the lands of the equines and their monarchs until they will be shouting out their lungs of who the true masters of this world is.” he paused, leaning back so that he was facing him directly in the eye, and Quicksilver was able to see the horrified expression of Bronzeclaw grow ever grim. While Sharpclaw only smiled, and a glimmer appeared in his left eye, where the three claw mark scar was present.
“Once the world you know has been burned… turned to ash and dust upon the winds… then you have my permission to die.” Sharpclaw said, standing up and taking one step back away from his father. He turned his sights on Artemis, who fidgeted in fear of his gaze. “Starting with her… she will be the first to be taken from you.” he claimed and began moving towards her.
“No! No! Not my daughter! Anything but her!” Bronzeclaw cried out, finally getting out of his stupor. The king was silenced when Sharpclaw whirled around and back clawed him, sending him to the ground and lying next to the equine nearby.
“Take her to my tent, I’ll be with her soon enough.” Sharpclaw ordered and Black Talon came over to pick her up and off the ground. She struggled in vain, calling out for her father while being dragged off. The crowd parted for Black Talon while he dragged her through the snow and towards parts unknown within the camp. Her screams grew ever distant as she was taken away.
“See to these rabble dog, place him with the other prisoners.” Sharpclaw stated, and Lupin began moving forward towards Bronzeclaw and Glenwing. He got Glenwing up, the old gryphon shaking him off and was walking on his own accord instead of being forced to. Lupin went over to Bronzeclaw and picked him and placed him onto one shoulder, carrying the king who remained stunned and, from what Quicksilver could be able to tell, had tears streaming down his cheeks and beak. After a moment Lupin was able to get Glenwing moving in the right direction while he followed behind. He did pause, however, and sniffed the air for a brief moment and his ears perked up if he had heard something. After a few seconds past Lupin escorted the two to the right side of the camp, past towards a darkened areas unknown.
“Sharpclaw,” a deep voice from Gansukh spoke, standing right behind the gryphon leader. The gryphon turned to him, seeing the large yak was on his back legs, appearing twice as tall and mighty to the gryphon. He stared down, his eyes judging with a simple questioning gaze. After a moment of silence Gansukh smiled wide and slapped a hoof onto the gryphon’s shoulder.
“Gansukh like you. Show strength…. Intimidation…. Sadistic and brutal. Yak like these things. Yak will work with you.” he turned to his fellow yaks, pounding a fist into his chest and laughing to his fellow warriors.
“Gryphons and Yaks work together! Alliance between our peoples! Feast until you can’t stand no more! Drink until your bellies burst! For once we're done! We march to war!” He shouted and was greeted with the thunderous roar of the yaks and piercing shrieks of the gryphons filled the air, so loud was their cry the very mountains shook from their call to war. The Kahn’s brother laughing and hollering equally the loudest amongst them.
While they continued to cry out, warriors set out and brought out dishes and food to the center of the camp. Several yaks brought many large kegs and started to break them open and many of the warriors immediately went for whatever concoction was in. The feast began in earnest and much talk had filled the air. Sharpclaw had almost vanished amongst the throng of warriors, being spotted every so often speaking to the Gansukh.
“We have to get out of here.” Quicksilver muttered to Gretchen, withdrawing his wing from her and wanting to back away.
“No,” Gretchen uttered low and quiet that Quicksilver barely caught her.
“What do you mean no?” he asked, looking at her with concern.
“We have to rescue them. We have to rescue the king.” she explained, her eyes never once leaving the throng of warriors that were boisterous and celebrating like there was no tomorrow.
“Rescue the King? Its to dangerous, there are guards everywhere and the longer we linger the more likely some gryphon might discover our hiding spot. I don’t like those odds whatsoever.” he said, knowing that there was no doubt that some gryphon could potentially spot them and drag them before Sharpclaw and the menacing yaks.
“Which is why we will remain here. Will bring our gear underneath here and we will wait it out until it gets dark enough and the warriors are either asleep or too drunk enough to stand.”
“But… Gretchen… I know the king means to you but if we get caught we will not survive this.” he warned, looking out to the throng of warriors who can no doubt take them out with ease. Particularly with those yaks as well.
“Fletchling, if we do not save them then their kingdom, 'MY' very culture. Shall be destroyed. I will not allow this warmonger to bring savages into our lands and to bring ruin and death upon both of our people. So you will wait right here and I will gather our gear.” she said, and without another word or even his reply she removed herself away from his side and the sudden chill came over. Quicksilver shivered slightly and watched as she disappeared behind the brush. He waited there for a few moments, contemplating on what she was going to do. Yet, if they could escape, trying to find a path out of this camp and to safety. He had to get them both out.
He had to get her out of here.
Yet… she was determined to get her king back. She would only think of him as a coward for suggesting the chances to escape and he didn’t want to have a complication to occur while they escaped.
It didn’t take long to hear the soft crunch of snow and the dragging of their bags when Gretchen appeared back underneath the brush. She quickly settled the bags behind them and pulled the heavy fur blanket out. She settled the blanket over herself and brought it tight around her neck. She eyed him and a half smile graced her beak.
“You know, even if you want to leave, you can’t get down these mountains fast enough with your wings.” she said and it dawned on him how right she was.
I wish my wings were better, he thought, a gloom hung over his head on how he neglected his wounded wings. It seemed now that he had no choice but to rescue the king.
“*Sigh* I’ll help you, okay Gretchen. You’ve helped me more times then one, and I will help you save the king.” he replied. This earned a warm smile from her and she settled onto the ground.
“Thank you Fletching. That means a lot to me.” she said, cozying herself up inside the blanket. Silverwing curled his eyebrow to her and gestured to the blanket.
“Ah… may I join in? It’s rather cold, even under this thicket.” he asked, and she looked up to him and a flash of red appeared on her feathery cheeks.
“Oh… of course.” she then proceeded to lift the cover with her left wing, granting him entry. He crawled in and huddled close to her side, the heavy blanket going over them and wrapping them in a warm cocoon of warmth. She settled her left wing over him and he instinctively wrapped his right leg over her back. She purred at the reaction and huddled closer, enough that the blanket can cover and wrap underneath him.
Purring again already? He thought, amused by her little affection, where she leaned into him and rested her head against his neck. He didn’t think of it and decided to wait where they were, the camps inhabitants celebrating in some twisted fashion for the war to come, while unbeknownst to them that two trespassers where secretly watching over them.
Hammer felt sick to his stomach as he sat in front of the fire.
He had spent many hours with Silverwing while she had wept for her brother, and he had been consoling her as best he could. He had tried to remind her of the good things that would come with the war over and that they could go back to their homes. Yet, despite the tidings of peace and prosperity to come, she was downtrodden and broken.
It was near nightfall when he went outside and the sun was going down in the distance. The rest of the camp was no different either on how they felt. Many had heard her cries and they all had the same experience. They all had a strong loyalty to her and what she managed to do for the company. Her emotions was theirs and many did not share much joy of the long war to be over. He had seen a few of the guards and several cervine sending their regards or trying to check in on her and ensure that she's okay. Yet, each one was sent away and a gloom hung over a few of them in turn.
The only ones that were not upset by all of this was the three messengers, who were sitting on the opposite side of the campfire.
The three had a long journey to get here, and they were chatting about how great the war was over and that they can get on with their lives. One claimed he was going to marry his mare, another to build a tavern back in Canterlot, while the leader of the group was boisterous and trying to cheer up the camps inhabitants in song and drink.
He was only partially successful in turning them away.
He remained, however, wanting to get an extra bit of warmth from the fire, but also to think about the war.
It had been so long since he thought of going back home and he remembered a few old friends that had joined the war effort and were sent elsewhere. He wondered if any would recognize him and considered him to be their friend, given all that has happened. He wanted to go and… do anything he wanted. He could have his own home, his own life and a wife.
He looked down, sadness apparent on his face as he even considered that. He had thought to much of Silverwing to even push for that and yet he didn’t want to ask the question, not while she is going through this. He wanted nothing more than to be there, to be her moral anchor and support, yet, he knew not how best to comfort her without turning her away.
“A storm is coming from the north in a few hours!” the watchman at the top of the wall shouted out, “Be sure to get inside before it gets dark, this might be a long one.” he kept shouting, repeating his words to ensure everyone was heading back inside.
Hammer stood up from the campfire and turned to the tent he was sleeping, dreading to walk inside. He passed by a few familiar faces as he moved. Anvil was talking with Swift Leaf as they headed for their tent. Charger was getting the other equines and dogs back to their tents with Shadow Hunter assisted in tying down the supplies in case the wind might come. While he wanted to go and check on them, to see how they were faring, he did not have the heart to go to them.
When he neared the tent he saw Cooper was lying down on the ground, his head low and his ears flat. He had seen him there ever since he had exited out. He had been waiting and watching over the tent while Silverwing remained inside. He wondered if there was something that Cooper wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to ask, or maybe it was some deeper instinct that kept him there. Whatever it was, he was determined to remain there. When Hammer got near the entrance Cooper was able to perk his head up from the ground.
“Will Silverwing be okay?” he asked, his ears still flat and his eyes looked rather saddened. Hammer stopped and turned to him, seeing the yellow, almost golden from the fire nearby, diamond dog and that downcast expression he was giving. Hammer looked down and shook his head.
“I don’t know, Cooper. I honestly don’t know,” Hammer replied, pulling the tent flap aside.
“I hope she’s okay. Seeing Silverwing sad makes me sad.” Cooper stated before resting his head back on the ground and remained staring at the tent entrance. Hammer sighed before entering inside.
“Please go to your tent, a storm’s coming,” Hammer said but Cooper didn’t respond and remained there, and he didn’t care either.
Once inside he saw Silverwing’s form underneath the blanket and she hadn't moved from that spot since he left. He could still hear her sniveling and her body hugging the blankets to herself. He moved over to her and sat on his side of the bed, taking at least part of the blanket to stay warm. He looked at the back of her mane, seeing the single blue strand going down. She didn’t acknowledge him or even speak up, and kept remaining there.
“Sleep well Silverwing,” he muttered softly. She didn’t reply, to choked up on her tears. He rested his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. Praying in his heart that somehow she will be okay.
And pray that he could find the right words to ease her weary heart.
Quicksilver stirred in his rest and cracked open an eye. He didn’t hear the sounds of uproarious laughter, drinking and shouting of the camp. He didn’t hear the squawking and the singing from the gryphons either. No clacking of hooves, no banging of armor, no butting of horns.
It was silent as the grave.
That is until he heard a loud snore coming from within the camp.
The camp was officially gone quiet, except for the motionless forms of some of the gryphons and yaks near the low fire. The gryphons and yaks had celebrated for hours on end and long into the night. The two had alternate watches each hour just so they didn’t fall asleep. They both ate snow, at Gretchen’s suggestion, and were able to hide their breath while they observed and rest. It was long and grueling, and each hour the camp would grow less and less boisterous. He feared that if they didn’t get to sleep soon then they would not be able to sneak in and find the king. This was the only time they had to get inside and find him.
Quicksilver turned to Gretchen, who was sleeping next to him, and prodded into her shoulder. He chuckled a bit from the way she batted away his hoof and tried to nuzzle into him further. A deep fuzzy feeling prickled in his chest and it warmed his body over it. It felt strange how comfortable she was in this given situation. It felt like a week ago since they left the main camp of the gryphons that she was still angry with him. She was less hostile and more friendly after her uncle’s death and the hot spring and that was less than two days ago. Now, she is fine having these little ministrations and was really close to him.
He could only imagine why the sudden change of emotions from her and accepting of him. He could only guess that after all that has happened she needed someone to hold onto. Yet the way she acted in the hotspring and the way he felt to her and almost sharing a kiss. He thought maybe things were moving a little to fast for comfort. It was almost as if...
Ugh I can’t believe I fell asleep on the watch. He chastises himself, and shaking his head to get his mind out of the skies. He then prodded once again and Gretchen stirred from her rest.
“Gretchen… wake up. Everything is quiet.” he said, a little drowsy. She shook her head and looked about with him in the camp. There were several bodies on the floor of the camp, all tuckered out and asleep. She surveyed the campgrounds, ensuring that everyone was out like a light. He also looked about as well, spotting the noticeable blood spot where the thestral had laid. He could only fathom as to where he was now, or if he was dead.
“Good, everygryphon is asleep, “ Gretchen said, lowering the leaves and brush away as she adjusted herself, “We can get in now without consequence and,” she paused, blushing at first before turning to meet Quicksilver in the eye with a confused if not alluring look.
“What?” he asked, unsure why she was giving that weird look.
“Did you bring my uncle’s sword with you or are you just happy to see me?” she replied, her eyes darting behind her and gesturing to where their legs had intermingled underneath the blanket.
A heavy blush covered his face, threatening to turn his blue coat into purple if he stayed there. After another uncomfortable moment between them, and she had not stopped staring at him, he quietly untangled himself out of the warm blanket and walked out of the brush. He then proceeded to sit down in the snow and shivered from the contact of his rump in the cold damp ground.
How come I didn’t notice!? When did our legs get intermingled? When did I even… this is so embarrassing, He thought, trying to get his mind off what just transpired. Memories of their interactions within the hot spring surfaced up, burning in intensity in his mind. In an attempt to try and get his mind off things he began reciting the boring lessons that he was taught in basic training and the numerous taunts he had received from being the younger sibling to Silverwing. After another few moments outside, and feeling the snow comes down on top of him he had snapped out of his stupor and he turned to see Gretchen standing nearby with their gear.
“I’m so sorry,” Quicksilver said in a hushed voice. Gretchen merely chuckled and shook her head.
“Don’t be sorry, it was just natural.” she said before giving his gear to him, the blanket she had stored with her pack. “C'mon, we can talk later, we have to move.” she said, moving down the path and away from camp.
“I thought we are going into the camp from here?” he asked, gesturing to where the light was.
“Yes, but not through here. Remember that second path that lead further in? I think we can sneak through their and reach the back without incident.” she explained and he nodded at her suggestion.
Once he strapped his gear the two moved back down the path they had taken hours prior, the ground having been covered up from fresh snow. High winds were heard above the peaks and it was possible a storm was approaching the mountains. If they had to get in and out they would have to be quick as possible.
Once they reached the fork in the path they turned left, heading deeper past the small crevice and towards what was possibly behind the enemy camp. It took them a few minutes as they moved down the path, the crunching of snow and their breathing was the only noise they made. After another moment of silence he had to perk up to her.
“I’m surprised how calm you were about what happened back there,” he asked in a quiet tone.
“Why? It’s nothing to fret over fletchling.” she replied in a calm manner.
“Then why are you fine with it? Not a few days ago you were still upset with me and yet now we have been far closer and almost accepting. Why is that Gretchen? Is this something you gryphons have when making friends?” he asked, this time causing Gretchen to blush.
“Well it’s not that simple and not the time to bring up,” she replied, albeit a little hastily.
“Then can you tell me what it is then?” he asked, his mind getting the better of him, “Does it have to do with some gryphon cus…” he stopped mid sentence when she turned to him and pointed a talon in his face.
“Listen fletching, I can answer all of those questions in due time.” she explained, a blush still visible on her feathers. “It is important but hard to explain, you gotta trust me and that I will explain everything to you later.” she said and began walking forward, quickening her pace from him.
I’ll hold you up to it.
He followed her down the path when it began to widen up. Gretchen stopped just ahead and he walked alongside her. He slightly gasped as to what they were seeing. It was a large rock alcove that stretched for at least a hundred feet across in either direction. On the far wall opposite of them were a dozen or so wooden cages that held something within, yet whoever was inside were clumped together and it was hard to tell who was there. In the center of the room was a fire that was still ablaze, giving some modicum of light. On the wall that they were on was a small cliff that went down about a good ten feet, where there were two massive trees and large bushes that hung there and all around the wall near them. Along the rock alcove there were no other entrance save for the large one heading into the camp.
“This is it, leave the gear here,” Gretchen said, taking off her gear and setting it onto the ground away from the edge.
“Why are we leaving our things here?” he asked, following her lead.
“We don’t want to attract any noise and if we get into a fight, I don’t want to be slowed down.” she explained, stretching her wings for a test flight.
“And the sword?” he gestured to the blade.
“Makes too much noise. If we get into a massive scuffle the whole camp will be on us.” she said as she began flapping her wings and hovered in the air. She placed her talons around his midsection and began flapping upward, carrying him with her. The two went into the air and went towards the brush below. After a few precarious adjustments and gliding their way down past the trees they landed in the snow. Grethcen let's go and the two looked about the room. Quicksilver spotted the cages and saw a few gryphons within them, some he had not met. Gretchen gasped and she took a few steps forward while her eyes settled upon the cages. While fixated on one of the cages a soft whine was coming from within one of them.
“Wait a second… those cages there… they are filled with diamond dogs.” she said, pointing at the cages and the subtle movement of a few diamond dogs moving inside. Quicksilver stood behind her, equally as surprised as she was.
“Why would there be diamond dogs here?” he asked, seeing one of the diamond dogs stir within, only for a rumble to shake the ground. The dogs huddled and whimpered as a deep noise came around them. They looked about the room of the rock alcove in front of them, but didn’t see anyone or any guard nearby.
‘Mala ptica. Mali konj.” (Little bird. Little horse.)A deep rumbling voice, low and threatening, came from behind them. The two froze on the spot, and Quicksilver felt his heart quickened. The sound of rustling leaves and chains were heard and a groaning sound of oak being pushed aside. A breath pushed past him, rippling across his back and tingling his spine. Quicksilver dared to take a look back, to see what was behind them.
His heart stopped in his chest and his breath hitched at to what he saw. He saw his own reflection through a large single eye that staring back at him from the light.
“Koji blagdan da jedem?” (Which feast shall I eat?)