The God-Emperor Breathes Again

by Count Talon of Ransom

A Discussion Between Old Friends

Gabriella had stopped speaking for a few minutes now, and honestly, she was starting to get a bit worried about Othmar. For around halfway through her talk about what happened to Grover, he looked away, seemingly in thought, though he clearly still paid attention because he flinched at the mention of Bellzar's... experiments on teenagers. She was about to open her beak when Othmar held a claw up, "So Grover has... I need to talk to him to better understand what's gone wrong... if something's gone wrong. Because, no offense to you Gabriella, I can't just hear you list off these... impossibilities without hearing from Grover's side of it".

Gabriella nodded, "I don't blame you, Othmar. This is definitely the kind of thing that if it was you telling me about... all of this, I'd want to talk to Grover about... this".

Othmar got up out of his seat, "Then let's go see him, last I checked there wasn't a riot going on so my friend probably isn't dealing with anything that important, right?"

Grover blinked once, twice, and then a third time before asking, "You found.... a statue in the mill?".

The diamond dog diplomat, for the Count had gone home yesterday, repeated once again for the Kaiser, "Yes, the mill had a statue to a... Captain Servia, that, along with the mass grave, it seems as though the mill was a battle site".

"Alright... and the spares were there, yes?"

"Enough until tax season yes, your majesty, but the statue had writing upon it that was... confusing," the diplomat paused, seemingly worried to say it out loud.

"Well? Speak it out!" For a moment the name Servia sparked something in Grover's mind, a memory of someone, but he couldn't really think more of it, it was like sand through his claws, the name somehow only making the sand harder and easier to grasp.

"It said... and I quote, 'Here lies Captain Servia, who gave her life so that 50 soldiers of the Imperial Army could live to fight another day against the Traitorous Duchy of Feathisia-Strawberry. May the God-Emperor of Griffonkind allow her soul to return to this mortal realm, to become a warrior once more.' Unquote, your majesty. A-as you may hear, it's not... a normal statue, the Count is unsure on what to do about it an-"

And Grover heard nothing more come from the flapping maw of the diamond dog, he just sat there in shock and dawning realization. 'How could.... did something more come through with him into the past? If so, then... then what else? Is this why Bellzar die? Was he suddenly hit with visions of the future? Will... will someone else remember the..... no I can't think about that... I need... Servia. Servia was a Star Knight... think, Star Knights were most commonly buried in the... in their armor. It's clearly a monument to a battle, and a mass grave was found. The Star Knight buried underneath that monument almost certainly had her bolter buried with her, and the mass grave... even if it was Ducal troops, that meant they had weapons that were years ahead of ours right now...'

"Your Highness?" and Grover is snapped back to reality as the diamond dog bows his head, "What are your orders, your majesty?"

Grover closed his eyes and gave a deep breath, "I want to see the monument in person, move it here since I can't go to Bronzehill at the moment, I want the griffon buried underneath that statue to be dug up and brought to my scientists in... in the Griffinheim Institute of Mechanical Technology. I want the mass graves dug up and any armor or weapons brought to the Institute of Mechanical Technology as well. Any griffons dug up are to be sent to Gamia. The mill itself is, still, not to be used," Grover opens his eyes and looks back down to the diamond dog, "That are my orders. Send them to Count Ignatius."

The diamond dog quietly and quickly writes it down before bowing and leaving. For a moment, Grover sat straight, appearing as a picture-perfect monarch upon his throne, until he slumped forward as his claws met his face. 'Oh Gods, please let no one else remember the future,' Grover whispered into his mind, 'I... no one... the empire would fall apart underneath the truth.'

It is then, that the door to his throne room is opened, and Grover springs back to his prior appearance. It's only a moment before Grover realizes who has entered, it's Othmar of all griffs?

"Othmar?" Grover asked, somewhat confused, "I didn't know you were arriving, If I did I would've sent someone to greet you!" Grover got up from his throne and approached his old friend.

"Yes well," Othmar stated as the two met face to face, "you know I don't like that kind of thing, plus I wanted to spend time with my family here but things have... changed".

"Really? Well, I'm sorry for your wife and kids, I'm sure they would've loved being in Griffenheim for a few days, but why are you here alone then?"

"I'm... can we talk somewhere more..." Othmar looked around at the relative openness of the throne room, "private, Grovy?"

Grover smiled, "Fine 'Oatmar', we can talk somewhere else," Othmar sighed as Grover quickly ordered his guards to escort him to a private chamber nearby.

Othmar muttered, "I thought you forgot that nickname".

"Oh I did, but calling me Grovy just brought it back, Oatmar," Grover smiled in a way that seemed oddly unusual for the otherwise sickly griff. It wasn't off as in it didn't seem right, it was just... surprising seeing such a thing from Grover, even when he was younger his smile always held the slightest bit of discomfort, whether from an illness or just in general. Honestly, Othmar was just glad his old friend seemed better, though he did still grumble at his old friend's nickname.

Once the two sat down in some random private chamber, Othmar decided to bite the bullet and ask, "Alright, Grover... can you explain something to me. You... supposedly had a disease called Aquillean Wing Mark plague... is this correct?"

Grover thought for a moment, he had, yes, but he didn't really remember what the disease was about, most likely had something to do with wings, but then again he had a disease that was called the Knee Bumping illness and it wasn't just weak knees he had back then... "Yes, yes I did have it, but I got over it, why do you ask?"

Othmar blinked in surprise before looking down at his clenched claws, "Can... can you fly for a moment? Just a moment? Just fly from one point of the room to the other?"

Grover raised an eyebrow, "And why... why would I do that? My wings are perfectly fine, Othmar, if that's what you're worried abou-"

"Please, just... do it, for me, alright?" Othmar was still looking down at his claws, so tightly clenched that Grover was a bit worried that he might cut his own claws. Grover sighed as he got up. The ceilings were all built high in order to promote flying after all, so this would be easy. Grover flapped his wings once and he was off the ground. Grover flew, almost mockingly quickly, from one end of the room to the other before landing back in front of Othmar.

"There, now can you please stop clenching your claws so tightly, it looks like you're about to hurt yo-"

"Are you... completely certain that you had.... that Wing plague... Grover..."

"Uh... yes? I just got over it, I don-"

"Why are you lying to me, Grover?" Othmar shouted as he jumped up out of his chair, "Do you think..." Othmar claw went to his forehead, as though his thoughts were about to break through them, "do you not actually know what Wing Mark Plague does to you? Are you joking? Lying? S-what happened!?"

"Othmar! Cal-"

"I will not calm down, I want answers, do you know what Wing Mark Plague does to you?"

Grover said nothing as Othmar bored into Grover's eyes, "I see," Othmar sighed, "Wing Mark Plague takes the use of your wings away, you haven't been able to fly for almost two years now at this point. Can you see the problem here, Grover?!"

Grover sighed, "Look, there's a clear answer here. I...." Grover paused, gulping.

"And what is that answer, Grover?"

"I'm... I'm literally blessed by the Gods, Othmar. Th-they whispered into my head and told me I was cured!"

Othmar says nothing and just blinks.

"You have to believe me, it was the Gods! They cured me and taught me how to fly again! I am literally blessed by the Gods!"

"Grovy".

"Yes, Othmar?"

"I believe you," Othmar said before walking past Grover and out the door. It takes a moment until Grover realizes that Othmar didn't sound completely insulted by Grover's statement that he was cured by the Gods. It takes until the door closes that Grover realizes he probably should've chased after him to better explain what he meant.

"Fuck".

Gabriella opened her beak before closing it again in confusion, she took a deep breath before asking, "And you could tell he was being.... serious? He wasn't joking?".

"As far as I could tell no, he was in fact not joking about it... by the Gods, something's clearly wrong with hi-"

"Something's not wrong with him, he's just..." Gabriella sighed and pinched the base of her beak, "ok yes something is wrong with him, but-"

"But we need to deal with him, restrict his power at the least!"

"His power is already restricted, his fucking nickname is weak!"

Othmar shook his head, "That doesn't matter anymore, clearly Grover's done... something in order to cure his wing disease, and the fact he can fly like any other griffon despite not being able to fly for almost two years... he isn't the sickly anymore," Othmar chuckled sadly, "We might have a mad, religious Kaiser, who had a miracle, on our claws... what a fucking mess."

"You speak of him as if he's going to cut all our heads off. Despite his," Gabriella coughed, "mental and physical changes, he's still your childhood friend, he's still my cousin. That son of his is still my little nephew. He's still... him... just changed".

"As though a changeling took his place. Are you sure it's not the changeling's doing something?"

"I already have my friends in the Mfös checking, as far as we can check, without dragging the Kaiser for testing, Grover's still Grover. Even if he was a changeling... I don't think a changeling would say the things I heard him say to little Grovy."

Othmar sighed, "We should talk to the Archon," Gabriella snapped her head to him only for Othmar to continue, "I'm serious. Archon Eros might help, if he can't help us, then we at least need the religious heads behind us in case we try to... limit any more power from Grover. Gods forbid, we'll definitely need their help if we even attempt to... dethrone him".

"We aren'-" Gabriella's shouting stopped suddenly, only for her to start whispering instead, "We aren't dethroning him, it'll tear the empire apart, the people won't understand, and Grovy is nowhere near old enough," Gabriella muttered even quieter, "And I'm not ready to become a regent yet..."

Othmar sighs, "We still need to tell the Archons. At least Eros! Does Gerlach know?"

"Yes, Gerlach knows bu-".

"And you haven't told the Archons yet? By the Gods, Gabriella, at this point, asking him for help to keep the empire safe is better than whatever rivalry you have with him!"

"The Archons will turn this sudden curing into a divinely inspired miracle! And if they hear what Grover says about, what, these voices in his head-"

"Then they'll start trying to limit his power too, which is why we need to talk to them, so we don't get cut out of it, or worse, seen as part of the problem with Grover. Neither of us wants to be the Imperial version of Katrin's regency council right?"

Gabriella sighs, "Fine, I'll... I'll talk to the Archons... but you, and Gerlach because I think he's still here, are coming with me to talk to Eros and only Eros!" She takes a moment to calm down, "Please, come to my room at 7. I'll have Gerlach over by then".

Othmar nods, 'It's a start at least,' he thinks as Gabriella turns and walks off.

In all of his days as the head scientist of the Experimental Firearms R&D department had Mudcrest never seen as weird as a schematic as the one given to him right now, and supposedly from the Kaiser himself, so instead of just throwing it away, he has to actually look at them. And they made no fucking sense at all! The Kaiser clearly jumped from point to point with random little details. There was a crossed-out section about some griff called Bellzar, about how he was the only one to actually understand what he was writing, and honestly, Mudcrest wanted to meet the kind of griff who could look at this and make sense of it!

Mudcrest sighed as he put the schematic down on a table before sitting down. He had no idea what to make of it, he just about decided to throw it away into a distant plan, the shooting rockets part seemed decent enough it's just that they have no way to make rockets as small as a machine gun bullet, when one of his assistants walked in.

"Ah, boy, come here," Mudcrest said as he sat up, "can you take a look at this? Don't think too deeply about this, in fact, I recommend you laugh. Just look at it for a moment."

The assistant walked over and leaned over the schematic, a few seconds passed as Mudcrest silently chuckled at the confused look on the assistant's face, that was until the assistant muttered, "I think the rocket can be made that small..."

"I'm sorry?"

"The uh... the crystal sir, there's a type of crystal in Bronzehill, extremely explosive and dangerous, but it's powerful enough that it could be made into a rocket as small as that without it being useless at long ranges".

Mudcrest said nothing as he leaned over the schematic, "That small? Then why haven't we tried to use it yet?"

"It's illegal to use it, sir, that's why I said think.... sir, it's... incredibly illegal. Illegal since... since before Grover the third I think, sir".

Mudcrest looked down at it again before turning to the assistant, "Grab me a pen and a blank letter, if this works and the Kaiser allows it, you're getting a promotion, boy".

Grover sighed happily, ever since coming back, he loved coming back to the dining room. It was a place of peace and comfort, where petty nobles could piss off with their reports, and he could spend some much-needed time with his beloved son. These little things were definitely what he missed after he was placed on the throne in the future.

He was about to ask his son if he wanted more beef, of course, the boy probably would smile and ask for more, he loved beef after all, only for the door to the dining room to open. Grover presumed it was just another staff member, but glanced towards the griff anyway. And his heart skipped a beat.

A tall, albino griff stood there, his hat in his claw placed upon his chest. Dawnclaw. Ferdinand Dawnclaw. The son of a bitch heretic who- he needed to calm himself now!

He took a deep breath, it was the most shaky, shuddering one he took since coming back to the past, his son's face immediately turned to worry and it made his gut twist in sadness, "I'm fine, boy, just... fine".

He turned towards Dawnclaw, the tightest fake smile adorned upon his face, "How are you, Oberstleutnant Ferdinand Dawnclaw?"

Dawnclaw paused, a hint of confusion, and oh-so-delicious worry, upon his face, "I am doing fine, my Kaiser, I'm just here because the general staff asked me to inform you that there is a meeting at 9 in the morning tomorrow, my Kaiser."

"And why did they ask you to come here and not some messenger boy, or something?"

Dawnclaw frowned, "Because they felt it was a good idea to send someone of comparatively high ranking to inform the Kaiser of a high-ranking meeting".

"I... I see, very well, tell them I'll be there at exactly 9 in the morning, understood Oberstleutnant?"

Dawnclaw only saluted Grover before turning and marching out of the dining room.

"Are you alright, Daddy?" his son asked.

Grover turned to him and gave him a genuine smile, "I'm fine, dear, very fine."

"Why... why are you holding your knife so hard, Daddy?"

Grover looked confused for a moment, before looking down at his claw, and the knife it held. It was shaking... he didn't remember grabbing a knife. Grover gave a gentle sigh as he placed the knife on his plate, "I'm just..." Grover turned to a staff member, "Staff! Take my plate and utensils... I don't need them".

His son only looked on in confusion and worry as his father slowly wiped his claws with a worried, with the slightest bit of fear, look on his face. His father muttered, "I'm just fine, boy.... I'm just fine". Grover the VI didn't believe him.