Gallus had always been deaf.
He couldn’t remember anything about his parents. As far as he knew, they’d abandoned him at a young age as soon as they’d realised this. Growing up on the streets alone was hard - not only because he was deaf, but also because his bright blue colouration made him stick out like a sore claw. Back then, he hadn’t understood why other griffons sometimes rapidly opened and closed their beaks, but the looks on their faces said enough. At best, he received quick, dismissive glances. At worst, they glared in scorn if he got in their way.
One day, when he was old enough to run but too young to fly, he’d been chasing a mouse through the streets. Not looking where he was going, he’d bumped into a lean, eagle-faced griffon - he later learned that her name was Gilda - and tripped over. By the time he stood up again, his prey had vanished out of sight. His stomach had rumbled, aching with hunger, and Gilda had given him an expression he’d never seen before: a curious glance with both eyebrows furrowed, somewhere between contempt and pity. Then, she’d thrown one of her home-made griffonscones in front of him and pointed at it furiously, as if instructing him to eat it. It was as hard as a rock and tasted like dust, but the thought had been there.
So Gilda had introduced Gallus to Grandpa Gruff, who reluctantly took him in. He’d borrowed a dusty old book from the library, and used it to teach himself and Gallus a sign language called “Arisign”. It was invented by creatures called “hippogriffs”, who had introduced it to griffonkind during Gruff's lifetime.
Gallus would never forget when he’d learned the word [family]. It was signed by positioning his talon sideways, pointing the thumb towards his chest, similar to the sign for [myself] - but instead of bunching the other digits into a fist, they were spread out. Confused, he’d asked Grandpa Gruff what it meant. He’d explained that family were the ones who were dearest to you, the ones who looked after you and were always there for you, even if they weren’t physically there.
[Are you part of my family?] Gallus had signed.
Gruff had shaken his head in response. [Griffons don’t do families.]
[Why?]
Gruff had hesitated, then refused to elaborate.
Grandpa Gruff had also taught Gallus how to read. Gallus’ favourite place was the library, where he’d spend hours upon hours reading the books there; he couldn’t afford to borrow them. The librarian, Glenda, didn’t seem to mind. Books were like doorways to other worlds - where ponies used science instead of magic, or dragons became queens, or orphans overthrew evil overlords. It made him imagine that he was destined for greatness, too, that he was a long-lost prince who would reunite with his family and live happily ever after. He avoided reading non-fiction, though; it sounded boring. Why would he want to read about his own world, when he could go on a guided tour of another?
[Can you tell me more about hippogriffs?] asked Gallus with his free talon, as he shoveled the green mush that passed for dinner into his mouth with a spoon. He had no idea what it was - mashed potatoes? Mushy peas? Guacamole? Hay? Whatever it was, it was definitely made of plants. Meat was a luxury in Griffonstone, and the orphans were lucky that Grandpa Gruff was generous enough to give them something to eat. If they were lucky, they’d have one of Gilda’s thankfully-improved griffonscones, but she was busy today. (Gallus had no idea if she was related to Grandpa Gruff or not. He’d never found the right time to ask.)
Grandpa Gruff shook his head. [Hippogriffs haven’t visited Griffonstone for years, and they never stuck around for long.] Gallus noticed him talking as he signed this; the other orphans didn’t understand Gallus, but they’d gotten used to this. He was the only one who lived with Gruff, but currently seated at the dinner table were Gabby, the enthusiastic mail carrier, and Gavin, who was as short as his temper.
The conversation didn’t go any further, but it had ignited a spark of curiosity within Gallus. As soon as dinner was over, he headed to the library, and - for the first time - entered the non-fiction section. He spotted a book on a top shelf called All You Need to Know About Hippogriffs. Since he wasn’t old enough to fly yet, he climbed a ladder and struggled to pull out the thick tome. Eventually, it came free... and it sent both him and ladder tumbling backwards. The impact of the book landing on the floor felt like a minature earthquake.
The sepia-tinted pages and colourful illustrations captured his imagination and interest far more than any story ever had. He learned that the hippogriffs were ruled by a king and a queen, that their kingdom spread throughout most of the southern lands, that their army had won many wars. He learned that their music was played on bongoes and trumpets, that their architecture made use of stained glass arches that spread out like petals, that their diet mainly consisted of fish. Most importantly of all, he learned that their culture placed family above all else. A picture of a pair of proud parents showing their new baby to dozens of other hippogriffs made his heart clench.
Gallus wished he could meet a hippogriff. They seemed much nicer than griffons.
Years later, a particularly boring day in Griffonstone was interrupted by a rainbow-coloured streak speeding through the sky. The youngest griffons were scared, while the oldest griffons - including Grandpa Gruff - shook their fists in annoyance, but Gallus’ eyes widened in awe. As soon as the blur shot out of sight, though, everygriff went back to their daily routines.
A few minutes later, Grandpa Gruff answered the door to see a cyan, winged pony with rainbow hair. Gallus had never seen a pony up close before, and they looked even more cutesy than he expected. Gruff was about to slam the door in her face, when he noticed that Gilda was standing next to her. It turned out that the pony’s name was Rainbow Dash, and she’d arrived to spread the word of a school that some “Princess of Friendship” was founding in Equestria. Since Grandpa Gruff was the closest thing to an authority figure in Griffonstone, Rainbow Dash asked him to find the most suitable teenage griffon to become a student.
[What’s Equestria like?] Gallus asked Gruff once Rainbow Dash had left.
Gruff glared at him in response. [Don’t get your hopes up. Ponies don’t understand griffons, especially a deaf one like you.]
Gallus looked down sadly. [I was only wondering...]
Soon enough, however, he became curious about Equestria too - and unlike hippogriffs, there were lots of books about ponies in the library. He learned that they shaped the world around them to make it as pleasant as possible, that their magic was powered by smiles or something, that they had introduced baking soda to griffonkind. It seemed so sugary-sweet that Gallus felt like throwing up, but at the same time... anywhere would be better than Griffonstone.
A few weeks later, the cold winds of autumn arrived, and it was time for Grandpa Gruff to decide which lucky griffon would get to go to Equestria. Gallus knew that his first choice had been Gabby, until he’d realised that nogriff else would be willing to deliver mail. All the other griffons hadn’t wanted to go for some reason or another - Graff was too young, Gavin was too grumpy, Grace was too shy. This had left Grandpa Gruff with only one option...
[Make sure not to lose that journal,] Gruff signed to Gallus as they waited at the train station, a stern look on his face. Gallus gulped and nodded, and made sure the strap on the worn, brown, leather bag slung across his neck was secure. He didn’t think it was necessary - even though he’d never learned to beak-read, he could communicate with other griffons pretty well just by pointing at things - but he didn’t want to argue.
Gallus had never been on a train before, so the rapid, bumpy movement had startled him at first. He and Grandpa Gruff were the carriage’s only occupants at first, but at each stop, more and more ponies boarded. Some of them were teenagers - such as a mint flying one, a yellow horned one, and a pink normal one - who he assumed would become students at whatever this school was called, but the majority of the passengers were adults who gave him odd looks. After a while, the repetitive clattering of the train lulled him to sleep.
The next thing Gallus knew, he was rudely awakened by a shove on his shoulder from Grandpa Gruff. He looked out of the window as the train was slowing down to see that it was the early morning, and that they were arriving in a small town full of thatched houses, dirt paths, and green fields. It was surprisingly dull; he’d expected ponies to live in a world full of pastel colours and heart shapes.
When he stepped off the train, Grandpa Gruff fumbled around with a map, then pointed him in the direction of a large, purple building in the distance, built in front of a waterfall. Just like him, it stood out - but unlike him, it stood out in a good way. He bounded forwards and eagerly flew towards it, not even waiting for Grandpa Gruff to catch up.