//------------------------------//
// 28: Escape to Aricia - Part 2 
// Story: Feathered Hearts - Continuation and Chronicles 
// by Firesight 
//------------------------------//




Reach - Eternal Eclipse




As her mixed human/griffon force assembled for movement again, Gilda couldn’t help but note how much longer things seemed to take when they were not only tired, but short of time.

She was also amazed at how much effort and organization it took to move not just her remaining force of thirty-six human and griffon effectives, but also spare some of them to carry the wounded and keep the other noncombatants at the center of their protective ring.

The latter included all the civilians except Marco, who insisted on staying with her at the forefront while Giraldi walked further back in the formation to keep them apart, carrying a badly wounded Marine on his back.

That Marine, to her surprise, was Lance Corporal Brennan. He had taken a porkupike spike to his chest armor that had failed to penetrate but shattered, peppering the unprotected parts of his upper body with red-hot fragments that cut like shards of glass. His injuries left him with a weakened arm and unable to walk for the large fragment deeply embedded in his thigh, forcing her strongest soldier to carry him. 

Fortunately, Giraldi did so with ease. Of more concern was that being the largest and heaviest of the human soldiers himself, the wound to his arm meant his support weapon, a continually-firing cannon the human Marines called a “saw” that was fed bullets from a large, mounted box beneath it, passed to one of his smaller subordinates.

He was burned and bloodied and clearly in pain, but just like Tara, he refused Chief Jacob’s offer of ‘morphine’ so he could still wield a regular rifle in the group’s defense. He did, however, mutter softly to himself as his Neigh Orleans-like accent got more pronounced, promising under his breath that he would have his revenge by finding out if the cloven porkupikes were as “good eatin’” as the “hogz ‘n gaterz” he knew back home.

That’s a good question—are the pure Cloven edible? Gilda suddenly wondered even as she admired his determination to stay in the fight. If so, that might solve our food issues for a bit… if we could get past the fact that they’re made in part from the bodies of griffon CORPSES! She made a face, hoping it would never come to that.

As always, Giraldi had efficiently carried out her instructions. He had the Ibex move her two wounded sky griffons in their auras while Nydia likewise levitated Chris along to protect his broken back from further damage, who was put to sleep at his own request. Tara, in turn, consented to being moved on the back of Spear Jumentum, who Gilda had decided she would recommend for commendation and promotion given her actions that day.

She saved my life earlier when I lost it and attacked that corrupted Ibex, and Ancestors know she’s carried out her orders without hesitation, even when they were dangerous or she didn’t want to, Gilda recognized, understanding that being forced to carry Raleigh had probably been the worst of those times. At least Tara will weigh less and know what not to touch…

Raleigh himself had been given a backpack full of supplies to carry off another wounded Marine, and only five minutes into their walk, he was huffing heavily and starting to stumble, leaving Gilda wondering how he or any human could allow themselves to be in such poor physical condition that wouldn’t even allow them to flee from the slowest and weakest of Tellusian predators.

He’s a disgrace by griffon standards, she thought as she ordered a stop halfway there. Not to let him rest, but to keep their formation coherent and allow the Ravens to scout the stream crossing, which was over a narrow bridge meant for non-flying races. But the other humans are not! she quickly acknowledged with a glance up at Marco, who had dropped to a crouch beside her with his rifle held ready, staying silently at her side.

He wasn’t aiming it anywhere but down because he’d been snapped at by Imlay earlier when he’d leveled it at the sound of a breaking twig. The Corporal had reminded him sharply that the Marines were ahead of him, and that they didn’t appreciate rifles being aimed at their backs.

“Sorry…” Marco had muttered as he did something to his ‘A-R’ that resulted in a soft click. “I’m on safety.”

“Keep it that way unless a firefight erupts,” Imlay ordered him, “and don’t you dare shoot at anything ahead of you unless you’re told to.”

“Sir, yes sir,” he said obediently, which only annoyed Imlay more.

“Do I look like an officer, Lakan?” he asked irritably, leaving Gilda noting that even the normally stoic Marine had his limits. “Just call me Corporal.”

Marco visibly bit his lip to keep from mouthing off. So just as he had spoken for her to Raleigh, she returned the favor here. “I am an officer, Corporal. So by my order, you will ease off him. We’re all tired and on edge, but the one thing we will not do is take it out on each other,” she reminded him. “You yourself said he proved his worth earlier, so kindly don’t treat him like a fledgling soldier.”

“Sir. Yes, sir,” he said in a mollified tone. “My apologies, sir. You’re right, he deserves better.”

“It’s fine, Gilda,” Marco said. “He’s right, after all—the first rule of gun safety is to never point one at something you don’t intend to shoot. He’s just telling me what I should already know, and what they all learned in basic training. And besides, if I’ve learned nothing else tonight, it’s that I’m not a Marine.” He looked away as he spoke.

“What you are is a warrior, Marco Lakan,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument, making sure that Imlay and the other Marines heard her, “and anycreature who disparages you is disparaging me.”

She could just see him smiling in the dark. “Thanks, Gilda.”

“You’re welcome. Now that said, be quiet, all of you! We need to listen for signals…”

Another minute passed before they received one in the form of two radio squelches, which was the Ravens telling them to move forward. She was getting increasingly worried about Ebon Umbreon, who she could tell was more gravely wounded than he let on. Even the Ibex buck had said as much, with Karin Kazal informing her quietly that he had magically scanned his rival earlier and found that his lungs and throat were damaged, likely from inhaling flame.

“That kind of injury will result in shortness of breath and increasing inflammation as he can no longer get the nourishment he needs from the air. He is weakening and needs to be healed, or he will collapse soon,” he warned her, to which she had responded with a terse nod, saying only that they couldn’t spare him just then.

A glance behind her showed that the Ibex antlers were dark as they had lowered their carried griffons to ground to rest their still-healing auras, while Nydia’s stave remained weakly aglow, keeping Chris suspended in the air.

She didn’t look healthy either, given her massive magical expenditures over the past day. But she was still doing everything she could, stealing five or ten minutes of rest and meditation at a time to try to keep her aura adequate for at least minor tasks. The Ibex, in contrast, appeared to be slowly healing their horns judging by the half-sealed cracks in them, which glowed a little brighter than the undamaged parts of their surfaces. Even the third Ibex doe, who had been the most wounded and had to be carried on the back of one of her brethren, had already regrown half of her broken-off antler.

But their faces—at least to the extent she could read them—were drawn; it was clear to her that just like Nydia, they needed plenty of food and rest before they could fully heal and recharge their depleted magic.

Crows take it. It isn’t just them, either. We all need sleep… Gilda thought as they began to move slowly forward again, glad she’d at least snatched a couple hours of it earlier at the steadholt of Bale. But even that gratitude was tempered by the knowledge that she’d had the chance—again—to indulge herself sexually with her human friends but declined it despite severe temptation.

She shook her head at the thought. And now Chris and Tara are wounded, so that’s out the window. And worse, we’re still in danger, stuck twelve leagues from Aricia with no guarantee that Fortrakt will make it there, or they’ll be able to reach us in time!

She suddenly wondered if she should have sent out additional flyers with him as they neared the bridge. Maybe I should have told him to take backup, but it’s too late now. Too late for fun ‘under the covers’ like Tara suggested, too. Ancestors, she’s such an honorable eagless and as much a warrior as Marco. And that’s to say nothing of CHRIS!

She shook her head again, finding that the closer death crept, the more she wished she’d taken the chance to be with them, onlookers be damned. Ancestors know they’ve proven their honor a decade of times over now. Crows take it… maybe Fortrakt was right, and I should have just let them—

“Centurion!” she had no sooner had the thought when Fortrakt’s voice was heard above her.

“What?” She looked up as blacklights were turned upwards to reveal his unstealthed form hovering in front of them. “Midnight!” She hissed out a challenge phrase.

“Maven!” he replied instantly, then descended to ground as the rifles on him were lowered. “Beg to report!”

“Crows take it… what are you doing here, cub?” she asked as he passed through the Marine cordon and saluted her. “You couldn’t possibly have made it to Aricia and back in that short a time!”

He grinned happily. “I didn’t! As it turned out, I was met halfway there… by them!” he motioned around them to a series of stealthed forms she could just see through her Raven goggles. They were shortly lit up as the Ibexians ignited their horns to produce the same purple glow as the human blacklights, revealing the fluorescing outlines of at least a dozen additional airborne gryphons.

“Hold your fire!” First Scimitar Bellator cried out somewhat painfully as rifles were hurriedly raised; Gilda glanced back to see her struggling to stand despite the admonishment of Chief Jacobs. “They’re Ravens! Good to see you again, Senior Scimitar,” she said as she struggled to walk forward and greet her comrade, baring her throat to her fellow gray-dyed warrior somewhat painfully. “My team lives.”

Despite the greeting, the other eagless eyed her balefully for a moment, then spoke to her in what sounded like the Saddle Arabian tongue of Mareabic. To which the injured First Scimitar replied in kind, to a nod of satisfaction.

The Raven leader then switched back to Aeric, pointedly ignoring the humans and Ibex as she turned to Gilda, though the latter had repeaters aimed at them before Gilda ordered them to stand down. “Good to see you as well, Oculta Belator. And greetings, Centurion. I am Senior Scimitar Miles Fortuna. My team was dispatched from Aricia to locate and aid you.”

She landed in front of Gilda and saluted, leading two teams of seven elite shadow warriors. Most were armed with repeaters, but the six earth griffon members of her force had strange oversized crossbows she’d never seen before attached to their backs. They were much larger than even the heavy earth griffon repeaters she’d beheld only once during her Gauntlet training, with their folded launcher arms studded with small crystals and woven with criss-crossing mithril filaments along their entire length.

“Dispatched?” She blinked, exchanging a confused look with Imlay. “But how? If Decurion Gletscher hadn’t made it to Aricia, you wouldn’t know where we were!!”

“I know not how, but we were told you were here and ordered to assist you immediately. Our instructions were to make contact and help secure a defensible perimeter before further reinforcements arrive. We met the Decurion halfway here, and he informed us where you were, offering to guide us in.”

Gilda relaxed, barely daring to believe their crow-begotten bad luck was finally turning. “I see. I have no idea how you learned where we were, but we thank the Ancestors you did. I have wounded who need immediate healer support, and we have no idea how long it will be before the Cloven find us. When can we expect evacuation?” She spoke in Equish so Imlay would understand her; she noted the Marine Corporal and Marco had stood back from her, letting her take the lead.

There was an uncomfortable silence of several seconds before the Raven female spoke again, switching to Equish in turn. “You don’t understand, sir. There is no evacuation. We’re only here to defend you, not take you to Aricia.”




BANISHED | Music of the Betrayed - 1 HOUR Of Epic Dark Sad Tragic Emotional Dramatic Music




“Defend us?” Gilda’s jaw dropped open, exchanging an aghast look with Imlay; even Fortrakt looked shocked at the news.

“With respect, Senior Scimitar, do they not understand there is at least an entire millennium of Cloven after us?” she asked the gray-dyed female, to no immediate response except a clenched beak. “Even with the human Marines and their cannons backing us, it would take a force at least a third that size to hold them off! And that’s assuming we could dig in and prepare proper lines of defense before they arrived!”

“Centurion—” The Raven leader tried to speak over her, but Gilda didn’t let her.

“And there’s also the fact that there’s a large Cloven factory at the Steadholt of Harness churning out probably a century of additional soldiers every hour!” she recalled bitterly. “Even if we somehow repulsed the initial assault, more would follow! We have been in multiple battles already and my forces are fought out, Senior Scimitar! We are injured and exhausted, and my wounded need healers now!” she all but snarled in the assassin’s face.

“We are aware of the Cloven factory,” the Senior Scimitar said unhappily. “The Decurion told us its location. Be assured that information has been passed along.”

Gilda’s feathers ruffled hard; she saw a hint of pink at the edges of her vision as her ire was raised. “Oh, that’s just fucking great.” She resorted to the human curse, earning at least a weak smile from Marco and Imlay. “By the crows, I’m so happy you’re aware of it. It will no doubt come as a great comfort to my soldiers and civilians as they’re slaughtered! So tell me, Senior Scimitar, are you also aware that if we’re overrun, all the Marine weapons and knowledge of how to use them fall into Cloven hooves?”

When there was no response, she got in the Raven’s face, allowing her temper to flare and the cider in her system to fuel it. “That human weapons will then be used against the Kingdom itself? Or is your Tribune simply not aware of their enormous power, having never seen them in action before?”

“Go, Gilda, go…” Marco muttered from behind her as Imlay stayed carefully silent along with an equally troubled Fortrakt.

“I cannot say. Whether they make sense to you or not, I have my orders, Centurion,” she told Gilda quietly. “And by my Ancestors and the sacred oath I swore to the Kingdom, I will carry them out.”

Gilda’s tail lashed hard. “Then you’ll die with us! Crows take it… on whose authority was this utter idiocy ordered?”

“On the authority of the garrison commander, Tribune Cipio, sir,” the Senior Scimitar answered evenly as she passed Gilda a pair of order scrolls, causing her to blink. “By direction of newly elevated Legate Narada in Arnau, you are now under his command as well. So I strongly suggest you mind your tongue, as the Tribune does not take well to his soldiers disparaging him.”

That caught Gilda short. She had served under Cipio during a previous rotation and knew he was anything but an idiot. By all my Ancestors, he MUST know the danger we’re in and what the humans being killed and corrupted would mean! So why isn’t he moving air and earth to evacuate us? she wondered frantically as she opened the two scrolls.

The first was indeed from the newly-promoted Narada, subordinating her and her force to Tribune Cipio; it included a message to Imlay from First Lieutenant Nantz to assist the Tribune in the city’s defense. The second scroll came from Cipio himself, and his instructions were terse but clear:

Stay right where she was and hold out for as long as possible, using whatever reinforcements she was given. No reason or rationale was offered, nor was there any mention of later evacuation, but her orders were to stay put and hold at all costs.

She read it twice, and then a third time just to be sure she wasn’t so tired she was misinterpreting it. But no matter how many times she scanned it, the text didn’t change, and she knew the Tribune’s talonwriting well from having served under him for a full year. But… by my Ancestors, this makes no SENSE! This place isn’t strategically important, but saving the humans IS! Why is Tribune Cipio leaving us hanging like this? She resisted the urge to tear the order scroll to shreds.

“So be it,” she said, her beak clenched. “I don’t understand this at all, but if there’s no evacuation, then we have no choice but to stay and fight. What reinforcements can we expect?” she then asked, struggling to keep her voice level.

“Once we have secured a defensible perimeter, A century of Talons and a mixed turma of Knights, including two Magi, will join us,” the Raven leader informed her. She glanced up at Imlay and Marco for the first time; her gaze lingered on their cannons for a moment. “Unfortunately, as more experienced officers are unavailable, you remain the ranking griffon and the Tribune authorizes you to command both Knights and Talons. But if you and your Optio are too tired to carry out such duties properly, then I will be happy to command the defense myself.”

Gilda glared at her. “The hell you will. You don’t know human capabilities or how to fight alongside them! As the Tribune clearly trusts me enough to do so, I will command the defense,” she told the other eagless, only realizing after the fact that she’d resorted to yet another human curse.

“I know not what ‘hell’ is, but you are the ranking officer,” the Raven leader looked unhappy but bared her throat anyway. “My team is at your disposal, sir.”

“‘Hell’ is where we’re headed at this rate!” Marco couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Are you seriously just gonna let us die out here?”

“Lakan—” Imlay started to say, but Marco cut him off.

“You guys are supposed to be a bunch of badass ninjas, but you’re just gonna mindlessly obey orders that make no goddamned sense?”

The Senior Scimitar had stayed her tongue when Gilda spoke, but this time, she trilled and her feathers ruffled hard. “Do not call us that again, human! Ninjas are mercenaries!”

Marco’s eyes flashed. “Oh yeah? Too bad! Because if you were, then at least we could pay you to do something sensible!”

“Zip it!” Imlay spoke sharply. “I don’t like it either, but as she says, orders are orders, even when they don’t make sense. We have no way to make the distance to the city from here without griffon help, so we have to stay and fight it out. And assume there’s a damned good reason for risking our lives.”

“One word, Corporal: Kabul!” Marco spat out.

“Enough!” an increasingly irritated Imlay rounded on him, getting in Marco’s face while speaking in a harsh whisper. “I see one thing hasn’t changed from our time in Equestria, Lakan—you still don’t know when to shut the fuck up!”

“Sipsipin mo ang titi ko, Corporal! So I’m supposed to just be nice when they’re gonna fucking abandon us like in Afghanistan?”

“That will do! Whether you like it or not, my Marines now fall under griffon command, and you’re under mine! If they tell us to stay, we stay! And you don’t help anything by insulting our allies!” He glared Marco silent, then rounded on his squad, tapping the side of his helmet to speak through the radio that seemed to be built directly into it. Or at least, that was what Gilda had concluded, given the Marines didn’t seem to need the odd blocky devices they’d equipped her soldiers with to be heard over it.

“And the same goes for all of you. We have our orders, and we will carry them out!” he said emphatically, then turned to face the Raven leader, exhaling slowly before he spoke. “My sincerest apologies, Senior Scimitar. You’ll understand we’re all a little on edge after so many battles and close calls. Sorry for not saluting you, but I’m unfamiliar with your rank and have no idea if you’re an officer.”

She gave him a curt nod. “I am not, so no salute is necessary. Senior Scimitar is the Raven equivalent of Senior Spear, which is the Kingdom’s highest enlisted rank. Nevertheless, I do outrank you, Corporal, by the combined chain of command we worked out with your superiors in Arnau. I will therefore thank you to restrain your civilians and keep them out of our way.”

“That is my order to give, Senior Scimitar,” Gilda corrected sharply. “And you will not be giving orders to any of the Marines or civilians, except through me.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir.” She saluted again, though Gilda could sense the intense resentment coming off the elite Raven warrior. “As we need to establish a defense quickly before we can receive reinforcements, what are the Centurion’s instructions?”

“We will establish our base in the main camp, which is down this path. By my order, you will screen our movement and keep watch further out for approaching Cloven while we clear the camp itself! We will make that camp our redoubt and set our defense within it with our backs to the lake. Now move, everycreature! And kindly get out of my sight until I need you again, Senior Scimitar…”





Gilda was still seething as they neared the main camp, and she could hear the Marines and Marco muttering as well.

Imlay had told them to be silent, but such orders only went so far, even with her own soldiers. She’d even heard at least two of her Auxilia grumbling to themselves, wondering what in all the Crows higher command was thinking, and why they were apparently being thrown to the Timberwolves.

In the end, it hadn’t been her that silenced the chatter so much as Giraldi, who seemed to accept their insane instructions far better than Gilda did.

“I do not believe that they would so callously and casually sacrifice us, Centurion. It is inconceivable to me that they do not understand what the loss of the humans would mean, particularly if they’ve been in contact with Arnau,” he reasoned, speaking to her quietly in Aeric so a still-woozy Brennan riding his back wouldn’t understand him.

“I suspect that much more is happening here than we are aware of, and I further suspect that is deliberate on the part of Tribune Cipio. Having served under him once on the Ibexian border, I know well his quality as a commander. Whatever his intentions, he is clearly keeping his plans secret, as well he should,” he said quietly, though he made sure his voice was loud enough for other nearby griffons to hear.

“For just as you realized before reaching Yoke, if anycreature with knowledge of those plans was captured, the Cloven would then know them as well. That would explain why he didn’t tell the Ravens—and us—anything more than our immediate orders.”

“You really think so?” She gave him a look as they walked.

“I know not for certain. I just cannot fathom that we have been given these orders without good reason.”

“Then you’re more trusting of higher command than me,” she told him as they reached the outskirts of the camp and the Marines set to work checking the buildings while her remaining flyers kept watch under Fortrakt’s command.

The first few structures were cleared quickly. But when they searched a storage cellar underneath the main hall, there was a sudden cacophony of sound including shouting Marines and what sounded like shrieking cubs.

“Corporal? What’s wrong?” She called into the radio.

“I think we’ve located those survivors the Shadow Decurion mentioned,” he said tersely. “We found what appears to be an adult griffon accompanied by several pony and griffon kids!”

Gilda was given pause, as she knew that ‘kids’ was a term used to describe the offspring of goats like the Ibex. But she had little time to reflect on the irony of an Ibexian term used to describe her own race as she realized how civilian foals unfamiliar with humans might react to the sight of them. “I’m on my way!”

She took flight for five wingflaps before landing in front of the open cellar, announcing over the radio that she was coming in. Descending the stairs into the darkened interior lit only by a single firegem that had apparently been dropped on the ground, she beheld a dark-furred adult eagless shielding a group of six badly frightened Caleponian foals and griffon cubs. 

The bravest of the latter ruffled their fledgling feathers and trilled a warning while at least one of the young colts snorted and stomped his hoof, only to retreat behind the adult at the sight of human soldiers.

“They’re monsters! Ancestors save us!” One of the younger cubs cried out in Aeric while the eagless reared up to wield what looked like a kitchen butcher knife.

“Stay back!” the badly freaked female ordered the upright creatures in panicked Aeric, her stance sloppy enough that Gilda could tell she wasn’t a fighter at all. “By all my Ancestors, I swear you won’t take these cubs!”

“Dammit, we said don’t move!” One of the Marines shouted at them in Equish, his fire team leveling their rifles; for a single terrifying moment Gilda feared they were going to shoot as they saw the eagless brandishing a blade.

“Hold your fire!” She and Imlay chorused as the seven survivors huddled in a corner, looking tired and desperate.

“Scan them.” The order then came from the Corporal.

The apparent civilians winced as the purple blacklights passed over them repeatedly, forcing their eyes to avert from the unnatural light. Griffon wings and pony hooves fluoresced the brightest, with the rest of their bodies having a much weaker glow from their internal magic. “They’re clean, Corporal. Normal magical signatures for earth ponies and griffons,” one of the Marines noted; Gilda didn’t recognize the voice’s owner.

“Their bodies are hot, too. They’re definitely alive,” Guerrero said after looking at them through his odd heat-seeing spyglass.

“Understood. Now by my order, lower your weapons!” Gilda instructed in no uncertain terms, stepping to the forefront while sheathing her crossbow, baring her neck towards the huddled and frightened group. “Greetings. I’m Centurion Grizelda Behertz of the Auxiliary Guard. We mean you no harm,” she told them in Aeric.

The wild-eyed female didn’t reply right away. A sky griffon like Gilda; she had an odd combination of features, including what she guessed were the bluish-gray head and forefeathers of a Great Gray Owl paired with leonine hindquarters that included a tasseled tail.

But far from being the typical tawny tone of a lion, her hindquarters were the same slate shade as her headfeathers, and her wings were even darker, going a much deeper shade of gray. “These upright creatures are called humans—perhaps you heard their race arrived in Arnau recently? On my honor as a soldier, they are friends, and we are here to help you. What is your name?” She bared her neck again but more placatingly, rearing back and holding her talons out to the side to emphasize that she was unarmed.

It was another several seconds before the other female finally spoke, though she still seemed afraid to lower her weapon. “I’m… Gabriella Cunaria. M-my friends call me Gabby. I’m a Camp Counselor and activity director for cubs. And by all my Ancestors, I was afraid we were the only ones left alive…” She was starting to cry.

“And how, by those same Ancestors, did you survive?” Gilda asked gently.

“I… I…” She started to shake as the cubs she’d been protecting began to whimper. “I w-was taking them on an excursion to an old cave complex when we suddenly heard screams. Came out to see a bunch of strange razorbats descend and attack us in broad daylight! After fighting them off with my talons, I hid the cubs as deep in those caves as I could. By the time I risked coming out, everycreature was gone! Afterwards, it was all I could do to find them food and treat their wounds. That’s why we came back here—I needed supplies! And I was afraid to leave them alone…”

“Where’s my mommy?” One of the foals asked Gilda in Equish. From her accent and pastel coat, she was no Caleponian; she was clearly an Equestrian earth pony probably visiting the Kingdom with her herd. “I want my mommy!”

“I don’t know, honey…” Gabriella squeezed her blue eyes tightly shut as she answered in near-perfect Equish, tears welling in them as she was unable to tell the young filly the likely truth. “But I’m going to protect you, okay?”

“They’re all dead, aren’t they?” the oldest of the griffon cubs asked in Aeric. Gilda judged him to be no more than ten years old, his voice dull but his limbs trembling from emotion and lack of sleep. “It’s the Cloven, isn’t it? Then all those old legends were true! And that means…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he began to shake.

Gilda had to look away for a moment. “It’s the Cloven,” she conceded quietly, which caused the griffon younglings of the group to start crying, as they knew what that meant from old tales all parents told their cubs. Occasionally to frighten them into behaving, but more to make sure that all griffons knew the telltale signs of their ancient enemy should they ever reappear.

“But the Kingdom is not lost. We’re on our way to Aricia, which still stands, but we’re going to have to stay here for a while first,” she explained, not about to say why. “You said your name was Gabriella?” she then asked the gray-furred female again, receiving a shaky nod.

“Then you’re a brave eagless who did a very honorable thing, protecting and caring for all these cubs. I’ll give you what food and healers we have, but for now, I need you to stay hidden and keep caring for them,” she said gently, then switched back to Aeric so the pony foals wouldn’t understand. “Once the Cloven know we’re here, they will attack. But this time, we will fight back.”

She then summoned the two mothers and their cubs, introducing them and respectfully asking them to help Gabriella feed and protect her charges. They agreed, introducing themselves and their cubs to the griffon and pony younglings, who took to the two eaglesses quickly, sobbing against their sides. 

Once they were attended, Chief Jacobs entered at Imlay’s order. He removed his helmet and got onto one knee before them, introducing himself and speaking gently as he asked to look at their wounds.

They were initially afraid of him, but he eventually won their trust by offering them fruit and bread from the cart they’d left behind in Bale, as well as what Gilda’s nose told her was some form of very sweet chocolate he removed from a shiny wrapper. He bit off a piece to show it wasn’t poisoned and when the cubs tried it, their expressions lit up and they immediately asked for more. When they next asked him where he was from, he showed them pictures of his home and family, which included several cubs of his own.

So, he’s a father too, Gilda nodded in satisfaction as she departed. Bet he and Giraldi could swap some stories!

“Centurion? Beg to report,” Imlay told her in the griffon manner when she emerged, firing her a salute from where he’d been talking with the Senior Scimitar. “We’ve cleared the buildings and secured the perimeter of the camp as ordered, but I have to say that this isn’t the best ground to fight on. It’s too closed in. It’d be perfect for conducting guerrilla warfare against a larger force, but not for a set-piece defensive battle.”

Gilda wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘gorilla’ war—did humans wage war to wipe out fellow primates in order to establish themselves as the dominant ape of their world, and the outnumbered gorillas had fought back using irregular hit-and-fly tactics?—but she nodded her agreement.

“I concur,” the Senior Scimitar told her before she could reply; she had elected to stay with the main force. Though she had said it was to coordinate her team from a central point, Gilda suspected it was more to keep an eye on the Ibex. “It nullifies the range advantage of our weapons and offers few real chokepoints. As their soldier forms can charge right through the underbrush, they could attack from all directions out of the woods and we couldn’t effectively fight back until they were on top of us. And with our backs to the lake, there would be nowhere to run.”

Gilda gave her an odd look. Range advantage? What range advantage? She wasn’t sure what the other eagless meant, given their standard crossbows couldn’t hit much beyond the treeline, and the range of the Raven repeaters was even less. But her words certainly applied to the Marine cannons, so she decided that was what the Raven female had meant. Maybe she knows more about human weapons than she lets on!

“Point taken. I was only planning to stay here long enough to be evacuated, with air coaches landing on the beach to pick us up. But if we’re forced to fight here…” 

She looked around anxiously at the forest around them in the slowly lightening sky, which despite the approaching dawn seemed more dark and dangerous than ever, leaving her mentally jumping at every sound of a snapped twig as the morning birds became active. “Time is pressing, Senior Scimitar, and there’s a chance the Cloven are already on their way. If they catch us in the open, we’re dead, so where do you suggest we go?”

“I was listening in to your talk over the human ‘radios’. That civilian eagless mentioned a cave complex? Where is it?” the Senior Scimitar asked, to which Gilda blinked before going back inside to ask her.

It took a moment before ‘Gabby’ replied to their query. She seemed only barely cognizant of her surroundings, not able to do much more than gently coax the cubs to eat and let their razorbat wounds be tended. She might be suffering from battle shock, Gilda knew, worried about her state of mind. 

“Huh? Oh. Um, it’s not that far. It’s an old, abandoned Changeling hive about a third of the way around the east side of the lake, up a sharp hill.”

“Take us there,” Gilda directed, to which the other eagless said she couldn’t—that she had to stay with the cubs, who trusted her and she felt responsible for.

“It’s all right. We’ll take care of them for you, Gabriella,” the dark-furred Caladium Mater promised on behalf of the two mothers. “And remember that by showing us the location of the caves, you are protecting them if they’re safer there.”

She nodded jerkily, and once they got outside, she told the pair to take flight. To their surprise, the Ibex buck asked to accompany them over the dead body of the Raven female, who only partially relented after Ebon Umbreon somewhat raspily told her that he could be trusted. He was lying on the ground being treated by the combined healing auras of the female Ibex and Decanus Nydia while guarded by Serpens Oculus, who Gilda had ordered to stand watch over their makeshift infirmary.

But Gilda could only spare them a moment of her attention before the argument brought her focus back to the two rivals.

“Zakroyi svoyi rot, suka! Do you think I’m trying to escape? And just where, by the Ancient Rams of the Rodina, do you think I could go, Miles Fortuna?” the Starshina challenged her directly. “Three of my comrades are now twice slain and the Cloven have already demonstrated they want to possess all of us! They cornered us in a cave once already, and the rest of us barely escaped with our lives!”

“How touching. And I’m supposed to believe that you elected to aid your mortal enemies instead of fleeing across the countryside while we have no ability to stop you?” She all but sneered out the words. “Far more likely that you saw this as an opportunity to gain intelligence on humans and griffons alike, and plan to abscond at the earliest possible opportunity.”

He stared at her before gaining a sneer of his own. “For a Raven of your rank, I find you uncommonly stupid, Senior Scimitar. So be assured that unlike you, I am under no illusions about my odds of survival or escape out there, or what will happen to the Ascendancy if the Griffon Kingdom falls to the Cloven! Both sides are at risk here, and we have to work together! So for the sake of our two nations, let me help you!” he pleaded to Gilda as much as his Raven rival. 

The Senior Scimitar stared at him distrustfully, then walked up to get in his face. “I swear by my Ancestors that if you betray us, Karin Kazal—” Her talons went meaningfully to one of the twin scimitars strapped to her back.

“Then I am as good as dead, from either you or the Cloven,” the Ibex buck finished without flinching from her, creating a pair of magical constructs in the shape of sharp blades which he crossed in a guard position before dispersing them and turning to face Gilda. “Request permission to accompany you, Centurion Behertz?” he asked politely, briefly presenting his horns as he stood to an attention stance in front of her.

“Granted. But how, if you can’t—” she started to ask him, to which he simply smirked and cast some form of magic on himself that suddenly allowed him to leap high in the air; they looked up to see he was now standing on an upper branch of an evergreen. It seemed far too small to support him, but it barely bent under his weight.

“A gravitational reduction charm. It will dramatically reduce its pull on me and allow me to easily follow you from the treetops as if I only weighed the same as a swallow—I could even run across water using this spell! It won’t last long at my current level of power, but it will allow me to keep up with you for a short journey,” he promised. “Now, shall we?”

“Fine,” Gilda grated, wondering if the Ibexian adepts would ever run out of new tricks to show her. Catching his scent, she had to suppress an abrupt and very unwelcome memory of tackling him and accidentally burying her beak in the gap between his sheath and oversized sac, suddenly and quite keenly recalling their feel and musk. “Then follow us,” she invited, disgusted with herself for finding him even remotely tempting and resolving to keep him downwind to prevent any more unwelcome flashbacks. 

They took flight after, with Gilda and Miles Fortuna protectively flanking Gabriella, arriving at their destination in just two minutes. As promised, Karin Kazal had kept up with them by taking great bounding leaps from the treetops; she wondered how long he’d had to practice that feat to be able to judge such jumps correctly when the pull of gravity was far less on him.

I guess the Ascendancy’s Capricorn Adepts really are as good as advertised, she granted somewhat grudgingly as they landed halfway up a sharp hill, just grateful she hadn’t had to face a full unwounded team of them, even with the Marines.

They shortly landed in front of a cave entrance that sat at the end of a rough and steep upward path. It looked to Gilda like it would have given anycreature trouble short of the mountain-loving Ibex, terminating on a plateau that fronted the mouth of the cave itself. The former was a rough half-circle about fifty paces in diameter while the latter looked normal from the outside, but once they got inside a short distance, stalactites and stalagmites gave way to polished stone. 

To her surprise, there were even some old, half-crumbled sculptures in the first large antechamber bracketing the path. She guessed they were a depiction of what was most likely a succession of Changeling Queens; there was even a hint of color and occasional glint of chitin in the interior walls.

Its old occupants were long gone, however, as the caves themselves looked like they hadn’t been inhabited in over a millennium, with nothing else to mark its onetime tenants but the remnants of arches between chambers and some old and faded artwork on the walls.

“Are there any other entrances than this one?” Gilda asked Gabby.

“Huh? Oh. There are several open skylights at the topmost chambers that cubs sometimes like exploring. There is—or was—a below-ground entrance, but its access tunnel collapsed long ago.” To her credit, she was trying gallantly to keep her voice from quavering.

“We’ll have to cover those skylights or seal off their access to the main cave complex—a few explosive gems should do the trick,” the Senior Scimitar suggested. “Aside from that, this looks quite defensible.”

“Curious…” was all the Ibex male said as he scanned the area, his horns only glowing weakly after his latest magical expenditure. “It is very unusual to see an old Changeling hive, as they normally destroy them when they leave to make sure nothing can be learned about their race. One can only surmise that they were driven out and forced to flee before they could. Traces of changeling magic remain in the walls as well. We might be able to use that to our advantage, Centurion,” he then told her.

“How so?” Gilda and the Raven female asked as one while Gabby trailed them somewhat nervously, her eyes darting and wings twitching.

“Changeling magic is, quite obviously, geared towards stealth and suppressing magical signatures to help them stay hidden. Even faded, the remnants of their old wards should help muffle our auras and hide us from the magical awareness of captured mages. So I suggest we make this the site of our stand instead of the main camp, Centurion.”

“I agree,” the Senior Scimitar said grudgingly with a glare at the Ibex. “As these caves are carved into a large hill with just a few possible avenues of approach to the cave entrances, this is far more defensible ground. We also have good visibility down its slopes, the steep angle of which should slow a Cloven charge. Once we clear the brush to remove cover and make sure we have clear fields of fire, we should be able to hold out for a while from here.”

“You’re right, though I don’t think we have time to clear the brush,” she said as she unclipped her human radio from her belt of Raven gems. “Corporal Imlay? Change of plans. I’m sending the Senior Scimitar back to get you. Once she arrives, get everyone to the cave complex and be quick about it. We’re setting our defense there. And be ready for some heavy hiking!”

“Wilco, sir,” he said after a brief delay, which was just long enough for her to hear some groans and curses from both the Marines and her own radio-equipped soldiers. “Marines! We’re moving again! Get into march formation and be quick about it!”





It was just ten minutes before dawn by the time they got everycreature to the cave complex, along with what food and healer supplies they could hastily scavenge from the main camp.

Moving the cubs and casualties were again the biggest issue, though at least the pony and griffon younglings could be put on the backs of sky griffons, who flew them there ahead of the main group escorted by four Ravens. Giraldi and Spear Jumentum were again used for the wounded humans while Ibexian auras carried her injured soldiers. That still left Raleigh dragging himself along though he finally collapsed halfway there in a puddle of sweat and a pounding heart, claiming he couldn’t go any further.

Though sorely tempted to leave him behind and later claim he’d been killed by the Cloven, she didn’t. It instead fell to one of the earth griffon Ravens to carry him while Gilda held on to her surprisingly heavy oversized crossbow, leaving her wondering again what its function was given there was no drawstring or accompanying quiver.

She didn’t have much of a chance to ponder it before the obese human groped griffon shoulders again. And this time, he did earn a sharp rebuke from the angry assassin, with the gray-dyed eagless ruffling her feathers and stopping long enough to pin him with a stare. She then warned him in Equish that if he touched her there again, she would not hesitate to leave him behind with a crossbow bolt in his head.

“Why bother? It’s not like the Cloven could make any use of him. He doesn’t know anything about fighting and he’s so fat and slow that he’s not even good cannon fodder,” Marco insulted him again, speaking just loudly enough for the overweight aide to hear. “I say just leave him behind.”

Raleigh sputtered, protesting his status as a diplomat. But finding no sympathy from humans or griffons, he fell silent and held onto the Raven’s shoulder straps instead, seemingly trying hard not to pass out from even moderate exertion.

Through it all, Gilda flew low cover with her remaining flightworthy sky griffons while the Ravens scouted ahead, using paired communication gems that they said could overcome the magical interference still causing issues with the human radios. They didn’t say more about them than that, however, and knowing they were vulnerable in transit and with every minute making an attack more likely, Gilda found the half-league march taking far longer than it should have.

Still no Cloven around, but for how long? She wondered how much warning they’d actually get before an attack this time. Once they know where we are, they’ll hit us with everything they’ve got! And with that massive crow-cursed Cloven factory churning out new soldiers at Harness, they can replenish even a full millennium of losses in hours! So why, by all my Ancestors, is Tribune Cipio risking us like this? she asked herself again. But she couldn’t come up with an answer, and if the Ravens knew, they weren’t saying.

It was thus with no little relief that they finally arrived at the cave entrance about a century and a half of perches high. And she judged it none too soon, given that by the time they arrived at the flat area that fronted the main entrance, even the Marines were starting to show signs of severe fatigue along with Marco. 

At least unlike Raleigh, he had made the entire distance and climb, though his legs were starting to visibly tremble from all the hard marching. It gave her some new appreciation for how the Marines were able to bear the considerable weight of their cannons, quivers and armor, leaving her wondering what training they’d undergone to be able to carry it all.

“Holy shit…” he said through panting breaths as he finally pulled himself up onto the plateau with an assist from Imlay. The Marine Corporal clasped his foreleg and yanked him the rest of the way up, while to Gilda’s great annoyance, the two mobile Ibex scampered up the slope with ease, traversing the steep terrain like it was nothing. “That was a hell of a hike…”

“A walk in the park for us, Lakan. Marines! Establish a perimeter and secure the entrance! Let’s get the civilians and wounded inside—” Imlay began before catching himself and glancing at an annoyed Gilda. “Sorry, sir.”

“Exactly the orders I was going to give. Optio Giraldi! Secure our wounded and the civilians inside the caves! Gabriella can guide you. Chief Jacobs! Set up an infirmary there as well. Decurion Gletscher! Put your sky griffons on high ground and have one decade keep watch for flyers while another covers the skylights! Corporal Imlay! I want your fire teams positioned where they can sweep the slopes! Senior Scimitar! It’s up to you to provide early warning of a Cloven approach, so disperse your warriors in the woods and have them fire blue flares if a Cloven force is sighted, red if dragons are on the way. Once they arrive, try to whittle their numbers down a bit with hit-and-fly attacks in the forest.”

“Unfortunately, sir, I cannot accept those orders,” Miles Fortuna said after an odd pause, watching carefully as everyone made it onto the plateau with the last of her force bringing up the rear after Imlay’s trailing fire team. “Because those of the Tribune supersede yours. By his direction, once we have a secure perimeter, we are to call the Cloven to us and then defend you directly from their attacks.”

“What do you mean, call them to us—” Gilda began to ask only to receive an answer when the Raven leader unclipped a small tube from her belt and aimed it into the air.

A magical flare then shot out of the tube and burst with blinding light high over the hill. Worse, it stayed put and lingered long in a display that had to be visible all the way from Harness and Bale. Gilda watched in shock before she grabbed the Raven eagless and flung her to the ground. Her steel talons were shortly at the female’s throat as the Marines likewise raised their rifles against her equally startled comrades, who went for their repeaters and aimed them back.

“Son of a bitch! Cover the Ravens!” Imlay ordered, his rifle leveled. “And if they try anything, kill them!”

“No! Don’t shoot!” She heard Fortrakt’s plea above the shouting that erupted but was barely aware of it as suddenly all she could see was red. Or more appropriately, a very intense pink as she fought hard to not give into the Cider-fueled impulse to outright kill the other eagless.

“By all the crows of the Kingdom, what in the name of our human and griffon Ancestors are you doing?” she shouted in the Raven female’s face, shaking her violently by the neck. “You’ve just killed us all!”

The Raven did not resist her, though she was presumably more than capable of it. “I’m truly sorry, Centurion, but on my honor, I was ordered to do it! I was instructed to let the Cloven know our location once we were in a defensible position! But not just them!” she then told her as an answering flare was seen in the eastern distance. 

“It was a signal to our own side as well! I swear on my honor as a Raven that reinforcements are now on the way, and my team has to lead them here! So with your permission, may we meet them?”

“Meet them? Or flee with them?” Gilda demanded to know, suddenly finding herself with enough rage-fueled strength to pick the shadow warrior up by the throat and slam her into a rock wall. She then tightened her grip on the Raven’s neck, her wings flared forward in pure fury. “Who gave you those orders and what is your true intention? If you want to live, speak!” she ordered as an equally infuriated Marco leveled his rifle at the Raven’s head, leaving her staring cross-eyed into the gun’s “barrel”.

“Kainin mo tae ko! Better start talking, you ninja bitch!” he further insulted her. “Come on, we’re waiting!” No weapons fire had erupted from either side yet as Fortrakt continued to plead with everyone, but Gilda sensed the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. 

A momentary glance to her side showed that the Ravens weren’t relenting as several turned on their stealth spells, only to be fully illuminated by Marine blacklights. And when that failed, the sounds of breaking gems announced the activation of several personal shield spells that could protect a single soldier. Much like the ones Nydia could conjure, they formed a potent barrier that the Ravens could fire out from while other projectiles could not quickly penetrate them.

“Jamal!” Imlay shouted to see them as he went for one of the large cylindrical ‘grenades’ on his vest; Jamal didn’t need to be told to do so before he copied the action, loading his weapon’s lower tube with one of the shield-crushing explosives.

“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” a frantic Fortrakt then landed, risking his life by planting himself squarely between the two sides as his sky griffons moved to bracket the Ravens, aiming crossbows at them from above to stay out of the line of Marine cannon fire. Gilda saw with a quick look that he had flared his wings to form a symbolic wall-like barrier between them, which at least resulted in some fractionally lowered weapons; she swore she could all but feel him trying to will the two sides apart. “Centurion, please! I don’t understand either, but there has to be some reason for this!”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Marco asked heatedly, not lowering his weapon, and this time, Imlay didn’t order him away. The Marine Corporal instead warned the Ravens that if they took flight or shot even a single bolt from their repeaters, he would order his Marines to kill them.

“And she already betrayed us to the Cloven by firing that flare! So how can we believe anything she says?” Gilda followed up, reaching up to rip off the Raven’s flight goggles so she could see and read her yellow eyes.

“I know not. But I refuse to believe my brethren would do something so seemingly insane without good reason,” a hoarse voice announced the arrival of Ebon Umbreon, who was leaning heavily on the Ibex buck. “I understand your anger, Centurion. But I think we should at least allow her a chance to explain herself.”

“I was just carrying out my orders!” she protested again. “I don’t know why they were issued, and I agree they don’t make sense, but I swear on the oath I swore as a Raven that they came directly from Tribune Cipio himself! I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d try to stop me if I did! My orders are to protect you and escort the reinforcements we just summoned here! We are here to fight at your side! And be assured that if I wanted to betray you, Centurion, you and your force would already be dead!” she managed a moment of attitude even as Marco’s rifle pressed right into her temple.

“And how the fuck is telling the Cloven where we are protecting us?” Marco asked before Gilda could; the only other time she could remember being so murderously angry was after an endless array of pranks was played on her by Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash in Ponyville so many years earlier.

“Enough.” A surprisingly calm Giraldi then approached, making a show of passing between the two sides of the standoff. “With respect, Centurion and Senior Scimitar, both sides need to lower their weapons immediately before a battle erupts that only the Cloven can win. And if you claim your actions are honorable, Miles Fortuna, then you can start proving it with a show of good faith. Order your teams to stand down immediately.”

Her eyes darted back and forth between Giraldi and the muzzle of Marco’s rifle for a moment. “Stand down!” she shouted in Equish. “By my order, sheath your weapons and step out of your shields!”

Gilda saw Fortrakt relax, but only fractionally as the Ravens reluctantly obeyed, reholstering their repeaters while stepping out of their protective bubbles still covered by Fortrakt’s flyers and the human Marines. “Very well, Centurion Behertz and Corporal Imlay. It is now our turn,” Giraldi then prompted.

“Corporal! Decurion Gletscher! Stand down your forces,” she then ordered Imlay and Fortrakt through a clenched beak, though she didn’t release the Raven leader.

“You heard the lady. Lower your weapons! And step back from them!” Imlay ordered, leaving Gilda guessing he was trying to put more of a space buffer between them, having seen Raven skill at close combat vividly demonstrated in earlier battles. In contrast, she saw Fortrakt’s flyers already holstering their crossbows even before they were ordered to, perhaps having heard Gilda’s instructions.

“Centurion, please release me. Our reinforcements are already on the way and we need to meet them!” Miles Fortuna requested again.

“I’m not letting you or your force out of my sight until I get some answers, Senior Scimitar. Decurion Gletscher! Get back in the air and head towards that other flare location! Find out if what she’s saying is true! If there are reinforcements out there, tell them where we are and then proceed all the way to Aricia! Tell Tribune Cipio that we are dead unless he gets us out of here!”

“No!” the Raven leader replied, increasingly anxious. “They’re only expecting us! If he shows up, he’s likely to be killed for not knowing a passphrase and worse, they might turn back!”

“How convenient,” Marco said with a sneer. “I don’t trust her, Gilda! I don’t trust any of them now!”

“Nor would I, in your place. So allow me to determine the veracity of her words, Centurion,” Karin Kazal said next from beside her; she’d been so mad she hadn’t even noticed him approach. “With your permission, I can read her mind and discern the truth.”

She glanced at him and nodded, seeing the same anger she felt in his gaze. “Do it!”

“What?” The shocked Raven locked gazes with her Ibexian enemy. “By all our Ancestors, you’d trust him over me?”

But Gilda only sneered. “Yes. Because of the two of you, he’s the only one who hasn’t betrayed us!” she hissed back.

“I didn’t betray you! And stay out of my mind, you crow-damned goat!” she gave him a warning trill, to which the Ibexian adept only smiled sweetly.

“That sounds like a challenge, Senior Scimitar. As I’m sure you already know from my Council of Crows dossier, my mental lockpicking skills are among the best of the entire Capricorn Conclave. I, in turn, know how well Ravens are trained to resist mental magic. So shall we see who wins a contest of wills?” He looked to Gilda like he relished the thought.

Gilda wasn’t sure if she was giving her next order out of military necessity or just because she wanted to make the other eagless suffer. “Do it. And by my order, do not resist him! You will submit to his spell, Miles Fortuna!”

Her jaw fell open again. “But… I…”

“By your command.” The Starshina smiled slyly as he gave the standard griffon response to an order. “This will take but half a minute. And I strongly suggest you obey your orders and submit, Senior Scimitar. You resist my mental probes at your peril,” he then warned as he ignited his nearly-healed twin antlers and closed his eyes.

A beam of magic shot out to envelop the Raven female’s head, whose eyes went wide and beak fell slack as the intrusion into her mind registered. She visibly resisted it at first, to which the Ibex buck grimaced once or twice, but either because she relented or he finally broke through her defenses, they both suddenly relaxed about ten seconds in. Gilda belatedly wondered if he might not be trying to extract more information than he needed, but within the promised half-minute, he ceased his probe and released her, dropping her to the ground in disgust.

“Pizdets. As hard as it is to believe, she’s telling the truth about her orders and our promised reinforcements,” he told Gilda, though she saw him glance over at Fortrakt for a moment, giving him an odd look. 

“For reasons I cannot even begin to fathom, she was indeed told to alert the Cloven by Tribune Cipio. She does not understand her instructions any more than we do, but as you ordered her submission, she did not resist me that much—pity—and I am satisfied that she does not intend to betray us. Nor does she have any other hidden orders regarding us she has yet to carry out.”

“She already betrayed us!” Gilda pointed out again. “The Cloven are on their way!”

“As the Starshina confirmed, her actions were on the orders of Tribune Cipio, whose intent remains unclear. Though I fear it possible that the Tribune himself might be somehow compromised to issue such orders, it matters not—what’s done is done,” Giraldi pointed out calmly. “We do need them, and time is pressing, so I suggest you release the Ravens. Have them escort our promised reinforcements in while the Marines and our remaining Auxilia ready our defense.

Gilda closed her eyes, trying to get control of her cider-roiled emotions again. “Fine. Marco, let her go,” she instructed. Unlike with Imlay, he promptly obeyed her, stepping back and lowering his rifle. “I still don’t trust you, Senior Scimitar. But I grant we need you and your Ravens. So get our reinforcements and get back here! We’ll deploy them when you arrive. But know this, Miles Fortuna…”

She got in the other female’s face again. “These orders are insane, and I do not appreciate you keeping part of them from me! By doing so, you nearly caused our two sides to fight, which could have ended with most of us dead right here! For endangering not just my force with your dishonorable conduct but my mate, I swear by my Ancestors that you have not heard the end of this.”

The Raven’s beak clenched as her eyes narrowed, Gilda just caught the intensity of the other female’s angry gaze before she donned her goggles again. “And for ordering me to dishonorably submit to the mental rape of an Ibexian adept, neither have you!” she trilled back, ruffling her feathers. “But whether you trust me or not, I will carry out my orders to defend you and the humans, up to and including dying at your side! But should we survive this?”

She went beak to beak with Gilda. “Then we will duel for that affront, and by the blood of my brethren, I will show you what skill I held back on you before!” Not giving Gilda a chance to reply, she trilled another call and ordered the sky griffons of her force to fall in beside her, leaving the earth griffon Ravens behind as she took flight to the east.





Gilda watched her leave alongside Marco, Karin Kazal and Giraldi, feeling her ire only slowly starting to settle. “You okay, Gilda?” Fortrakt finally asked her.

She didn’t reply right away, still trying to reign in her broiling temper, finding herself having to fight off the urge to rear up and release a loud roar just as had finally happened in Ponyville. “I’m fine. And Marco? I want you and Tara to stay with the cubs, along with the two mothers.”

But to little surprise, Marco shook his head. “Forget it. I said I would stay with you and that’s what—”

He stopped talking at the look she gave him. “Don’t argue with me. I am not in the mood,” she told him with a low trill, and whatever he saw in her eyes seemed to cow him. “There’s going to be a big battle here, and this time, there’s nowhere else to run. If we fall, then you and Tara will be the last line of defense for the civilians. Fight to the last blade and bullet, and if you’re going to be overrun, do not let yourself be captured.”

He nodded gravely. “If I’m dying, the last thing I’ll do is put a hollow point in my own head,” he promised, patting his pistol meaningfully. “It’ll blow my brains out nicely. And the Cloven won’t be able to use me.”

“Good,” she said, rearing up just long enough to hug him for what she feared would be the final time. “Now leave, Marco. Go find Tara and tend the cubs. And as for the rest of you, we need to plan the defense of this place properly.”

“Centurion.” She turned to see one of the remaining six Ravens addressing her, his large stringless crossbow sheathed as his comrades stood to attention behind him and saluted her.

“I am Shadow Decanus Acuti Surculus of Raven Team Tigris. I just wish you and the human commander to know that you have every right to be suspicious of us after the Senior Scimitar’s actions. But I think it should be known that with regards to the flare, we were not told about that part of our orders, either,” he said to distrustful looks from the Marines, who still had their rifles half-raised.

She pinned him with a stare. “Whether I believe that or not, this is not the time to discuss it, Shadow Decanus. It’s time to set our defense, and as we need to fully trust each other to fight the Cloven, I need more information,” she told him, only belatedly returning the salute. “First, I don’t recognize that weapon you and the other earth griffon Ravens are carrying. So what is it?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the large bow with folded, gem-studded launcher arms strapped to his back. “I would not normally offer this information, but as we are ordered to cooperate with you, I will. This is the Kingdom’s newest military innovation—a bowcaster,” he replied with a wary glance at the Ibex, who looked startled at the news. 

“The first generation prototypes were being tested by the Council of Crows in Aricia. They are nowhere near perfected, but even in their immature state of development, they can fire magical bolts at rates and ranges that far exceed standard crossbows. Unfortunately, they are also quite heavy and not practical for aerial duels or close combat, so only grounded earth griffons can effectively wield them.”

“Then it’s a marksman’s weapon,” Imlay remarked, earning an odd look. “Sorry, I mean it’s designed to kill at a distance?”

“Correct, human—you will forgive me if I know not your name or rank. With trained bowgriffons and special crystal optics, they can kill at ranges of a quarter-league or more, though they need occasional maintenance and fresh feeder crystals after only eight shots. My team was already testing them when the war broke out, but as there is no point in preserving these prototypes for future improvements when we are already fighting for the Kingdom’s survival, we will use them now,” he explained. 

“Wow,” Fortrakt said, looking like he was studying it carefully. “Do they work?”

“They do indeed, even if their capacity is not optimal and it takes several seconds to cycle for a new shot. Despite those limitations, they are a powerful weapon which can kill a grounded or airborne soldier at considerable distance, so I suggest you put us on high ground where we can use them to maximum advantage.”

She exchanged a glance with Imlay, who nodded. “Fine, but as the humans have long-range weapons of their own, you’ll need to work in tandem with theirs. Will you take care of it, Corporal?” she requested.

“Yes, sir,” he said somewhat shortly, ordering Lance Corporal Henderson to come to him.

“What about close quarters? I’m assuming from their size that your weapons are not good at melee settings?” Gilda then suggested, more from her observations of the limitations of human weapons than her familiarity with this new griffon one.

The Shadow Decanus nodded. “Correct, sir. It is not effective at close range as it becomes very awkward to aim and fire at a charging foe. Instead, in addition to our melee weapons, we have these.” 

He tossed a storage gem from his belt on the ground to reveal an advanced heavy repeater, looking more than twice the size and weight of the ones Ebon Umbreon and his two comrades used. 

“Armed with armor-piercing or explosive bolts, it can decimate charging infantry and is even effective out to standard crossbow range. It has a forty-bolt drum that can be swapped out quickly, which I would warn it can empty in but six seconds of continuous fire. We have mounts for them, too, if you wish other soldiers to fire it from a static position. The Navy uses them on its airships to hold off swarms of Harpie boarders. But I would not recommend it for use by sky griffons in the air as they won’t be able to keep it stable enough to aim.”

“So the griffies have an LMG…” Imlay noted, mostly to himself. “Sorry, Light Machine Gun. It seems similar in form and function to Brennan’s M-249.”

“I’m sorry, human. Who and what?” The big Raven asked, glancing from Imlay’s cannon up to his face.

“The name is Corporal Imlay, Shadow Decanus. And never mind. The point is that we can use that in concert with our own heavier weapons,” Imlay then suggested. "We can position them to provide interlocking fields of fire both on the plateau and downslope.”

“Perhaps, Corporal. But that brings up the matter of the brush and trees on that slope,” Giraldi then noted. “It provides too much cover for forces advancing up the hill and might mask their movements as well. I would say burn it out, but time is pressing and I fear Decanus Nydia does not currently have the power.”

“I doubt it. Do you, Starshina?” Gilda then asked the Ibex buck. He considered it for a moment, scanning the large area of hillside he would need to burn only to shake his head, giving an Ibexian curse under his breath.

“Nyet. Not at my current low level of power, and definitely not in the little time we have. Not even if I work with Serzhánt Polina, who is even more drained than me.”

Gilda blinked at finally hearing the name and rank of the less-wounded doe, even if she had no idea what the rank was. “Any ideas, then?” She turned to Giraldi and Imlay.

“Then I suggest we focus on clearing the ground nearest us and on the base of the hill,” Giraldi answered. We would need to clear just a small section of open ground at the bottom where they will be most bunched up, and then make sure they can not burst out of the brush on top of us when they reach the plateau.”

“That makes sense.” Gilda found herself immensely glad that an experienced tactician and combat veteran like Giraldi was present. “Then we also need to pick out places for the repeater and human cannon mounts that have a good combination of protection and visibility. Do you still have your ‘fifty’ available, Corporal?”

He nodded. “We do, sir. We pulled it back before the Cloven hit the Main Hall, and we still have around eighty canisters of ammo in our storage gems.”

“And something tells me we’re going to need them all…” she said as a fresh flare fired in the distance to the east. 

“That’s the signal that the Senior Scimitar is returning with our reinforcements, Centurion,” the Shadow Decanus told her. “Permission to meet them?”

“Granted,” she said with a curt nod. “And when they get here, tell them to report immediately to me…”





Her three available mages had just started burning out the brush nearest the plateau with fire spells—at an agonizingly slow rate; she heard one of the Marines openly wish for something called ‘neigh-palm’ as they pulled out tools to begin digging holes in the ground—when the Ravens returned with their reinforcements in tow.

She didn’t realize how big or mixed the formation was until Ibexian antlers illuminated a large stealthed force on approach. The two accompanying Magus Knights dropped their concealment spells when they realized they were compromised, allowing the force to descend to the ground.

They had promised her a century-plus of additional soldiers, and it was indeed delivered, with four turmas of Talons and two of Knights getting there on the strength of their own wings. Both groups included earth griffons, she was relieved to see, with two decades of Wind Knights and four of Fortis Knights. 




HEART OF DRAGON | Epic Chinese Adventure Orchestral Music | Epic Drum Battle & Flute Mix




But what she did not expect was five armored adolescent dragons to be accompanying them, flying in their own formation apart from the rest. They were clearly not corrupted as they’d been emplaced on the fore of the griffon force; the glow of their fire apparent through the gaps of their chest and neck scales. Nevertheless, their unexpected appearance caused some consternation in Gilda and the Marines, with the latter releasing some muffled curses and raising their rifles before Imlay ordered them in no uncertain terms to lower them.

“Centurion! Beg to report,” Miles Fortuna said snippily as she landed before Gilda and Giraldi with the Decade and Turma commanders behind her, along with one of the dragons. “As promised, I have retrieved our reinforcements.” 

“So I see. And is there anything else you didn’t tell us about who was coming, Senior Scimitar?” Gilda enquired acidly, returning the contemptuous look the largest and presumed leader of the dragons was giving her, who pointedly did not salute her. Their mutual disdain was not surprising, given the Kingdom’s relationship with the world’s various dragon clans could be best described as distant. The closest of them lived on what they called the volcanic isle of Silicaly in the Servalenian Sea, not far off the southwest point of the Italon peninsula. 

Gilda hadn’t cared about them or even thought about them much before her Gauntlet training, having never seen them while living in Equestria except at a distance during their once-a-decade migration. But even though the Kingdom hadn’t gone to war with dragons since the days of Dragon Lord Diabla a dozen years after the conflict with Equestria, they’d spent several weeks learning to fight them just in case. 

They usually weren’t of large numbers and didn’t normally have an organized military, but that was not to say you ever wanted to challenge or invade them. For they guarded their clan’s territory as zealously as their hoards, and even adolescent dragons were very formidable warriors between their natural weapons and armor, able to fight effectively with teeth and talons alone while protected by their tough scaled hides. And that was to say nothing of their ability to breathe fire and survive in conditions nocreature else could. 

As dragons chose their Lords and also determined who would be allowed to mate or become adults through trials of combat, which were held only once a decade during their combined migration and mating seasons, the adolescents forged their own armor and weapons while training endlessly to fight. As a result, those same armor and weapons were quite varied and occasionally garish, with many of them already showing scars of combat. 

Several of the adolescents had taken battle damage and various injuries that ranged from obvious talon slashes to blade wounds. It was very hard to burn them, but at least one of the group had severely scorched scales and half-melted armor plates as she studied Gilda beneath her helmet through narrowed golden eyes—or at least, Gilda assumed she was female, given her slightly more slender frame; dragon genders were not always obvious. But regardless, it was clear she had withstood a direct gout of full-strength adult dragon fire and had merely been singed by it.

All this information flashed through Gilda’s memory in the moments before the Senior Scimitar spoke, her voice still clipped after their earlier confrontation. “I wasn’t expecting them either, but I am told they insisted on coming, sir,” she said as the dragons and humans regarded each other with a mixture of disdain and wariness, muttering to each other under their breath. “Unfortunately, our two Magus Knights will not be staying. They were ordered to escort us and then return to Aricia for reasons we were not told.”

“I see…” Her anger over their predicament already spent, Gilda couldn’t even muster up the slightest bit of indignation. “And our dragon friends?” Though I use that term loosely…

“This is Obsidian Ire,” the Raven leader introduced the largest of the dragons, an enormous black-scaled female with orange eyes wearing blackened armor paired with a large sword strapped to her back. “She and the remnants of her clan fled their island home when the Cloven corrupted their Lord and killed most of their kindred, ending up here at Aricia. As they have already fought honorably to defend the city and helped us repulse several attacks, you can trust her, sir.”

“Can I?” Gilda asked idly as the female stepped forward and crossed her forelegs, looming over her, to which the young eagless reared up to her full upright height and duplicated the haughty gesture, flaring her wings for balance. She found it awkward when she had nothing to lean on, but she forced herself to remain still, wondering how Giraldi or the humans did it so easily. “And just why did you come here, Obsidian Ire, when I presume you know the certain death we face?”

She waited a beat before answering, studying Gilda’s features from a head and a half above her. “To see these alien apes that are supposedly so important and powerful that the Cloven would sacrifice so many to take them. Thus far, I am not impressed,” she said in accented Equish with a glance over at Imlay, whose expression was unreadable behind his helmet and goggles. 

“Nor am I impressed with you, Centurion Grizelda Behertz. For one so young should have never been given this post. If you were a dragon, you would not even have molted!” she added in renewed contempt. 

Gilda knew ‘molt’ was the term for the metamorphosis by which dragons gained their wings, which marked the end of their toddler period at around age sixteen. But as Gilda was twenty-four years old, she guessed that either the drakina didn’t know how to interpret the ages of griffons or she was just being deliberately insulting. She decided it was most likely the latter, in which case she was being tested, given it was said dragons did not respect anycreature who wouldn’t stand up to them in a battle of blades or wits. 

But if there was anything she had plenty of and was good at, it was attitude. So she sneered back and took two bipedal steps forward to get in the large female’s face, close enough that she could feel the intense heat held in her ebon throat. 

“Then you’re a crow-damned fool who doesn’t know how to judge age or strength, Obsidian Ire. We made it here all the way from Bale despite the Cloven sending countless centuries of soldiers at us! We have won battle after battle and escaped death repeatedly, killing at least six hundred Cloven in the process! And for your information, those ‘alien apes’ are the biggest reason we’re still alive.” She wasn’t actually sure about their kill count, but it felt about right to her.

“Are they now?” the dark-scaled dragon turned to Imlay again, sniffing the air in his direction. “Those metal tubes of yours smell of salt and sulfur—are they cannons, human?” she asked, surprising Gilda that the dragon female was able to deduce instantly what had taken her a month to come up with.

“They are,” Imlay confirmed, stepping forward of his own accord. “Our weapons and our skill at wielding them are what the Cloven want.”

“Skill? What skill?” Obsidian Ire asked contemptuously, and a glance behind her showed her attitude was shared by her comrades. “By the sacred magma below, what talent does it take to aim a tube?”

“Oh, please. And what talent does it take to bite and claw something? Or breathe fire on it?” Gilda answered immediately and in the exact same vein, inwardly grinning as her retort earned an angry glare. 

“Wielding our ‘cannons’ effectively takes plenty of practice, ma’am,” Imlay answered with surprising calmness as he walked up beside her, standing half a head higher than Gilda. “To carry and use them properly requires a great deal of drilling and training. It’s not easy to hit a moving target or even a static one at extended range. And it’s definitely not easy to do so when you’re on the move and have to function as part of a team. Even harder to make sure that what you’re shooting at is the correct target, and not an ally,” he further outlined, then turned back to Gilda.

“But with respect, ma’am, we don’t have time for this. The Cloven are on their way, and we need to be ready quickly,” he reminded her as much as the dragon female.

“Fear not, human. We will take care of them,” the black-scaled female promised haughtily, causing Gilda’s eyes to narrow. For if there was one thing that hadn’t changed since she was a hot-tempered teen hanging out with Rainbow Dash, it was hating boastful shows of bravado that had no relation to reality. “You won’t even have to fire a single cannonball, for be assured we will incinerate them all.” The gaps of her scales glowed as she vented some violet fire through her toothy grin.

The edges of her vision going pink again as the drakina’s words grated and caused her ire to rise anew, she employed her long-ago Gauntlet training to strike at the female dragon’s weak spots. She stunned her with a hard helmeted headbutt to the snout—the area of their nose was said to be sensitive—then grabbed her by the leading edge of the wing, digging her talons in and causing the larger female to hiss. 

She might have been in danger of being immolated, but in her enraged, cider-fueled state, Gilda was beyond caring. Using the webbed wing as leverage, she threw the drakina down to the ground and pinned her with her weight, threatening to rip open her wingbase with one set of steel claws while clasping her reptilian head from above with the other, poised to dig her metal-clad talons into the only other real dragon weak spot—their heat-seeing eyes.

“Whoa!” she heard some of the Marines shout; even Imlay began to raise his rifle before Giraldi blocked him with a wing. But the other dragons did not interfere as Gilda fully pinned her, feeling a thrill go through her at her victory over the larger female..

Just wish Rainbow Dash could see this! the thought crossed her mind as she felt flush with pride and triumph, holding the drakina in place a second longer. “So, how do you expect to beat the Cloven when you can’t even beat me, Obsidian Ire?” she asked the larger female, digging in her claws deeper when she sensed the drakina trying to draw breath to heat her body further, which was already uncomfortably hot to hold. 

“You claim you’re a mighty warrior? I say you’re nothing more than a crow-damned fool who’ll get us all killed! Unless you seriously think that the five of you can kill a thousand Cloven? Because that’s what’s on the way!” Gilda gave the female a sharp shake, wondering for a moment if the cider was also boosting her strength. Or did it just seem that way given the adrenaline rush she felt?

She then raised her voice so everycreature would hear her. “So heed my words and heed them well, all of you! For us to have any chance of survival this morning, we have to work together! And that means you and your kindred will obey my orders without question, Obsidian Ire! Is that fucking clear?” she shook the female a second time, not even caring that she was lapsing into the human invective again.

“Clear, commander,” she growled low under her breath. “Now if you will be so kind as to let me up—”

“Not until you submit! I know dragons have a loyalty oath, so swear one to me!” Gilda ordered.

“What? No! We only swear that oath to our Dragon Lord!” Obsidian Ire protested.

“Except we lack one now,” one of her smaller red-hued compatriots said in a subdued voice. “Dragon Lord Vesuvius is dead along with most of our clan. And with respect, the Centurion did defeat you in single combat, Obsidian,” she reminded her fellow female to a startled glance from the Marines, reminding Gilda of another fact she’d been taught at the Gauntlet about dragons.

“That’s right. As I just bested you in a duel, by dragon law, I now outrank you! So by all the Crows of the Kingdom, you and your group will obey me!” Gilda said, struggling to hold her down and not lose her grip on the drakina as the female’s body grew hot enough to be close to burning, which she guessed was a defensive tactic.

“So be it,” Obsidian Ire said, suddenly restraining her flame as the gaps between her scales stopped glowing. “But not because of that, which was not a declared duel! We swore an oath to assist the Kingdom in exchange for the liberation of our lands! And far too young though you are, you are the ranking officer, and you bested me even if you took me by surprise. You clearly have a dragon’s heart, so that means that here and now… we serve you!” 

She abruptly wrapped the end of her tail around Gilda’s neck and used it to throw her off with contemptuous ease, flinging her several perches into the air. The feat forced the young eagless to use her wings to keep from falling as Obsidian Ire stood back up.

Righting herself in the air before descending back to ground, Gilda stared at the drakina warily while the non-dragon onlookers held their breath. But instead of attacking her, the large female came to attention and saluted her in what she assumed was the dragon manner. It almost looked like a double-griffon salute in that it started with their forelegs to the side and ended them with their talons balled into fists and pounded into both sides of their armored chests, palm-first.

The display earned some awestruck expressions from her soldiers, both old and new; even the Wind knights she still hoped to join looked impressed at her successful takedown of the much stronger dragon.

But Obsidian Ire paid them no mind. “These are my clan sisters, each of whom is an excellent fighter in their own right—Red Hot, Orange Crush, Emerald Inferno and Rose Ruby,” she introduced the dark red, bright orange, deep green and pink drakinas in turn, each of whom were in a slightly different shape and build. The smallest of them was Rose Ruby, who instead of a sword appeared to have a scythe mounted on her back; Gilda had the thought that she was far too young and small to possibly fight effectively. “They answer to me, and I, in turn, will answer to you. But know this, Centurion Grizelda Behertz…” 

She got in Gilda’s face. “Your victory over me was from an ambush, and it was not appreciated! For humiliating me in front of my sisters, I will demand satisfaction later. We will duel, and you will pay for your affront to my clan and honor!” she vented violet flame again even as she saluted her.

“If we survive this day, that will be my greatest pleasure, Obsidian Ire,” Gilda said as she returned the honor. Great. So I’ve got a Raven AND a dragon mad at me now? she realized as there was a sudden vibrating tone that announced a message was being sent to a communications crystal in the possession of Miles Fortuna. Looks like if we survive this, my duel schedule is going to be busy for a bit—

“With apologies, Centurion, I fear we can tarry no longer. I have just received word from my team that Cloven flyers have been spotted approaching the area,” Miles Fortuna informed her.

“Understood,” Gilda replied, closing her eyes and hoping the precious time she’d spent winning over the dragons had been worth it. “Then my first order to you and your sisters is this, Obsidian Ire: clear this hillside of brush and at least fifty paces in front of it! I want it burned to the root, and then I want you hitting Cloven columns in the woods alongside the Ravens! Do not linger, just strafe them with flame and then fall back, repeating the process as many times as you can!”

She didn’t wait for a response before turning her attention to the other groups, her thoughts now flowing quickly as the urgency of the situation increased.

“Senior Scimitar! Your earth griffons will remain here with their bowcasters but your sky griffons will scout the approaches and fire blue flares when Cloven columns are sighted, red if adult dragons approach! Use hit-and-fly tactics in the woods with your repeaters and make corrupted mages priority targets!”

“Talons! Dig trenches and emplace heavy spears as obstacles at the lip of the plateau. And make damn sure you have clear fields of fire for your crossbows downslope!

“Ibex! As we lack mages, you two will have to function as them along with Decanus Nydia! Keep this smoke away and do what you can to conceal and protect us from enemy mages!”

“Earth Griffon Ravens! Each of you is to dig in on the upper slopes two to a trench along with a single human Marine! Their cannons will provide additional downslope fire and close quarters protection while you hit targets further out!”

“Corporal Imlay! Position your ‘fifty’ where it can do the most downslope damage, and set half your Marines alongside the Talons in teams to give them extra firepower! Keep one fire team in reserve inside the cave entrance while the remainder assists the Ravens with their bowcasters to call out targets and provide them protection!”

“Decurion Gletscher! Once the fires are out, salt the slopes with explosive crystals borrowed from the Ravens set to detonate on contact, and then position yourself over the skylights, using them as a place to retreat to if the pressure gets too great! Take more explosive gems to seal the skylights if you can’t hold them, but your primary duty is to protect our forces on the upper slope from any Cloven flyer attacks that get through the Wind Knights!”

“Fortis Knights! Arm yourself with Raven heavy repeaters and position them to cover the plateau! If the outer defense is breached, you will have to cover the Talons as we retreat to the caves!

“Wind Knights! You’re with me! We’ll be whittling those flyers down! And then orbiting the hill to provide mobile defense!” she concluded, amazed she’d said all that in what felt like a single breath. “You have your orders and we have but minutes to get ready! Now by all our Ancestors, move!” she directed, to which her combined force broke into fevered activity, with shovels flying while the dragons began burning their way downslope. 

“Well done, Centurion,” Giraldi told her as she readied her flyers for flight. “All excellent orders. And your surprise attack on Obsidian Ire was superb. You won the respect of not just the dragons, but all our incoming soldiers with your actions. They will obey you quite readily now.”

“Thank you, Optio. And as for you, I want you to command the ground battle while I command the air. You know human capabilities, so use them well.”

“By your command,” he said as all the hillside vegetation was incinerated, sending a pall of smoke into the air above them as the Ibex generated a wind to keep the vapors at bay.








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