Drinks
Yesterday, the bar had been filled with noisy newcomers, bright-eyed and eager to defend their home against Nightmare Moon. That was before Gilda and Scootaloo put them through training. Now, only a few were present, quietly complaining and stretching sore wings and limbs. “Do you ever wonder if you’re too hard on them on the first day?” Scootaloo asked between swigs of her apple cider.
“Tough love, Scoots. We gotta weed out the weak ones while we can, ‘cause we don’t want Nightmare Moon to do it for us,” Gilda replied, downing her fourth shot of some foul-smelling concoction she’d come up with during her spare time. Scootaloo had asked her earlier what it was. She told her every shot was the cure for one idiot recruit and promptly ordered seventeen of them.
“I know, but I wonder if a gentler approach would be better in the long run,” Scootaloo said, staring pensively at her wooden mug. “Rainbow Dash always gave everypony a chance to improve.”
“And look where it got her,” Gilda muttered as the bartender placed two more shots in front of her. Scootaloo shot her a dirty look. “I’m just sayin’,” Gilda added quickly. “You know I admired her just as much as you did, but there’s no room for soft spots in war, only tough hide and armor.”
Scootaloo knew from hard experience that it was true, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about the griffons she’d bullied. “You didn’t push me so hard when I first came here,” she said.
“That’s ‘cause you’d already proved your stuff,” Gilda answered as two more shots disappeared down her throat. “You got more experience than half the officers above you and more drive than most of the griffons that came in yesterday.” She tapped the bar with a talon, letting the bartender know she was ready for more. “You’re a special case, Scoots. Most soldiers with your background would’ve flown away into hiding, but you keep coming back for more.” Gilda chuckled, tossing back another shot. “Guess that makes you crazy.”
“I’m about as crazy as you are sober,” Scootaloo said as Gilda began tipping over. “Sure you can handle seventeen?”
Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “That a challenge, Scoots?”
“What’s in those, anyway?” Scootaloo asked as three more shots vanished down Gilda’s maw.
“Dunno,” Gilda replied with a hiccup, “but I can still hear that idiot asking how to do a dive, so I must need a few more.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and took another drink. Cider was a rare commodity these days. Most of the world’s apples came from Equestria, and production there had slowed considerably, to say the least. Still, the bartender always had at least one barrel in his stores at Gilda’s request. She and Scootaloo saved it for special occasions. Today’s was the fact that Scootaloo had survived her first day as a trainer, though Gilda had hardly seen that as reason enough to celebrate.
“So, why did you pick me to be a trainer?” she asked.
“I jus’ told you,” Gilda mumbled, downing shot fourteen. “Stop fishin’ fer compliments.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Scootaloo asked. Gilda was swaying back and forth unsteadily, her eyes unfocused.
“Ahm fine,” Gilda said, brushing Scootaloo’s hoof away as she finished off two more shots. “How many is that?”
“Sixteen,” Scootaloo replied, regretting a second later that she hadn’t just lied. Gilda clawed at her final shot and took several deep breaths. “You know, you don’t have to–”
The shot went into Gilda’s mouth, and the griffon slammed the glass upside-down on the bar, a look of triumph on her face. “Beat that, Scoots,” she said.
“I think I’ll let you win this one, Gilda,” Scootaloo replied, unable to suppress a smile. “Come on, let’s get you back to your quarters.”
“Ah can do it,” Gilda murmured before promptly tripping over her own tail.
Scootaloo helped her right herself and led her towards the exit. “Excuse me,” she said to two large griffons standing near the doorway. “The captain could use some assistance.”
“Always does when a new flight comes in,” said one of the griffons with a roll of his eyes. “Come on, captain. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Ahm fine,” Gilda protested, but since she was barely able to stand, she had no choice but to let the two griffons carry her home. Scootaloo smiled as she watched them soar clumsily through the Nest. The sun had already set, so the only light came from the forge and the torches that marked each cave entrance. She saw a green flash out of the corner of her eye coming from a cave known only as the Dragon’s Den. She often wondered what was up there, but since neither she nor Gilda were allowed to enter the cave, the two could only speculate.
Scootaloo had learned a lot during her five years at the Nest, but the most shocking was how different Equestria was from the rest of the world. She’d asked Gilda a while back who raised the sun and the moon around here. Gilda had looked at her like she was crazy. As a child growing up in Ponyville, she’d never realized how organized and controlled everything was. Though the Nest was like a second home to her, it was a lot more like the Everfree Forest than Ponyville. Here, the animals fended for themselves, and while the griffons could control the weather to a certain extent, they normally chose to let the clouds, wind, and rain sort things out on their own. “We don’t need magic,” Gilda had told her one day. “Control makes you ponies soft and vulnerable.”
“We’re not vulnerable,” Scootaloo said indignantly.
“Oh yeah? How’s that eternal night working out for you?” Gilda asked. “If you’d just let nature run itself, Equestria would still be Equestria, and we wouldn’t have to worry about an evil alicorn trying to wipe us out.”
“You can’t blame us for all that,” Scootaloo said defensively. “Magic has brought plenty of good things, too.”
“Still makes you soft, kid,” Gilda answered. “You’d be completely lost without it. Sure, sometimes you get a fighter like Dash, but most of you wouldn’t last a week without some kind of magic to help you out.”
Scootaloo had taken that statement personally, and now, here she was, training new recruits at the Griffon’s Nest. Life without magic was difficult, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. In a lot of ways, she was glad the griffons didn’t have any magic of their own. It made things less predictable, but at least there would never be a griffon version of Nightmare Moon.
The orange mare leapt from the cliff’s edge and spread her wings, letting the strong evening updraft lift her higher into the sky. She took a deep breath of the cool night air and released it slowly, letting her tension ease away. If only Sweetie Belle could see me now, she thought, remembering with a smile all the days she’d wondered if she would ever fly at all. Rainbow Dash’s guidance had given her the confidence she needed, and Gilda’s methods, though tough, had driven her to excel. Though not the strongest flier by any means, she had gotten better among the griffons, and for that, at least, she could be thankful.
A soft whistle brought her out of her thoughts. She had just enough time to open her eyes before a knife flew past her head and embedded itself in the cliff face behind her. She screamed and flapped her wings frantically as her eyes scanned the cliffs around her for any sign of the attacker. She thought she saw a silhouette duck behind a boulder, but she couldn’t be sure in the dim light.
Heart still racing, she turned and examined the knife, which was buried to the hilt in the solid rock. She tugged on it a couple times before noticing a strip of paper tied around the handle. She frowned as she undid the string, still watching the cliffs in case the knife’s owner was still there. With paper in hoof, she glided to the nearest torch and squinted, trying to make out the jagged writing.
A friend waits for you in Zebrica. And so do I. – Shadow Strike
“Shadow Strike?” Scootaloo repeated. “Who in the hay is that?” She scanned the cliffs once again, but there was still no sign of her assailant. “You! Soldier!” she shouted at a passing griffon. “Where is the colonel? I must speak with him right away.”
“Sergeant Scootaloo,” the soldier said with a salute. “I was just looking for you, ma’am. The colonel wants to see you and Captain Gilda immediately.”
“Immediately? Did he say why?”
“Only that he has received troubling news from Zebrica, ma’am,” the soldier replied. “He’s waiting for you in the Dragon’s Den.”
“Dragon’s Den?” Scootaloo frowned, wondering what this sudden invitation to the Den could mean. “Tell the colonel I’ll be there as soon as I can. Oh, and you might want to tell him the captain is a little indisposed at the moment.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The soldier saluted and flew away towards the highest cave in the Nest. Scootaloo quickly located Gilda’s nest and glided towards it. The griffon was in for one rude awakening.