2. Regrets and Recriminations
Gilda stood to attention. Along the row of warriors stalked the impressive figure of Captain Ripper. Most Gryphona-born griffins had violent sounding names, which marked out those from Equestria and elsewhere even more. Even her surname, Goldfeather, sounded refined in comparison and made the majority of Gryphons look down their beaks at her.
She clicked her front claws together and strained upright as the captain drew level with her. For a moment it looked as though he was going to just go past, but he stopped and fixed her with an imperious gold eye.
“Underling Goldfeather.”
She tried not to let her claws grip dirt at the title. Gryphons were so wedded to status and rank it was sickening. At least the ponies had been more subtle and had citizens who actively flouted ideas of class. Try mentioning a classless regime to a Gryphon and you’d find yourself looking at your own windpipe on the floor.
“Sir!” she said diligently.
“You accounted yourself well today.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“Keep it up and you’ll soon be a Subordinate instead of an Underling.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Captain Ripper nodded once, not one to waste words or actions. He had made his meaning clear and both Gilda and those around her knew it. She felt antipathy radiate towards her from other Underlings. She was one of the few Equestrian-born griffins in the Claw Army and no-one ever let her forget it.
She kept her gaze forward as the captain moved off down the row of surviving warriors like a lion hunting weak members of a herd to bring down. She didn’t let herself show any outward sign of her inner turmoil, though her insides twisted with guilt, anger and confusion at her own actions. She pushed aside memories of the final air-fight, though snatches of images wormed into her head anyway: hind hooves bucking towards her face; one frantically beating wing; a thin trail of blood ribboning out behind them as she and Rainbow Dash locked together in that last headlong descent; clouds in her mouth and eyes as she plunged through them, claws wet with blood.
Why couldn’t Dash have just left when she told her to? She was so stupidly stubborn! Once upon a time that had made her the greatest rival and friend ever. Gilda tried even harder not to think about those memories either. One kick with her powerful hind paws had changed everything. Hooves versus claws? No contest really. Why the hell couldn’t Dash have just flown away while there was still time? Why had she forced Gilda to make choices that haunted her even now, when she should have been basking in her own perceived success?
Someone leaned in close from the rank behind hers. “Don’t think the captain’s pretty words mean you’re anything special, pony-lover.”
Gilda didn’t react, which apparently goaded the speaker to continue.
“You might have caught his eye, but you’d better not make the rest of us look bad by sucking up to him, or you’ll be sorry.”
I’m already sorry, she thought grimly.
Rainbow Dash swam between the waking world and shifting, disturbing dreams. When she did surface she found her body uncooperative and wracked with pain. Just breathing was such an effort it sent her reeling back into unconsciousness before she even had time to take stock of her surroundings.
When she came to next she struggled to hold on to consciousness. Moving even one hoof was a mammoth effort that sapped what little strength she had, but it was enough for her to hear and feel stone and the echoing sound of it all around her. A cave, maybe? Or a tunnel? Her brain tried to make the relevant connections but stuttered before reaching any real conclusion.
She tried to open her eyes but they seemed glued shut by something crusty and foul. Pulling them open or wiping the gunk away was just too much for her right now. Moving her foreleg had sent ripples of fiery agony down her flank and deep into her side. It felt like something had reached right into her and shaken her insides like a lucky dip bag before pulling out a prize.
She groaned. It, too, echoed in that way that came from hollowed out places. Something wet dripped into her ear. She flicked it instinctively and marvelled that it didn’t hurt too. Whatever had used her as a dance-floor during a fast number had left her ears intact. Goody-goody. More water dripped into her ear so she attempted to roll away before it clogged her up.
Bad mistake. The fiery agony blossomed into a blistering explosion of flame that made her cough and convulse. She was hurt and she was hurt bad. She tried to remember how it had happened and came up with the confrontation by the wall, fighting a posse of big-ass griffins and being grabbed bodily as Gilda bore her down into the clouds to smash against the ground far below.
Gilda. Betrayal cut through the morass of jumbled thoughts and feelings. Had their friendship really mean so little to her? Gilda had tried to kill her! Just thinking it was too surreal. Gilda had always watched Rainbow Dash’s back in school. They had been inseparable and loyal to a fault. How had they gone from that to … this?
What exactly was this? Rainbow Dash had no memories of the time between Gilda trying to kill her and waking up here. Had she passed out? Was she dead? If so, this was a sucky kind of afterlife.
She sucked cool damp air into her lungs and fought against the churning shadows at the edges of her vision. She had to think clearly. She had to get up and figure out what was going on. Her friends needed her: Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, not to mention Princess Celestia and Luna, plus all the other ponies holed up in the castle. She had to find out if they were okay and make sure the griffins hadn’t broken the lines through her post. She had to make sure the whole shebang hadn’t fallen to nothing because of her … she had … had to … stay … awake …
Eventually, however, the shadows overtook her and she fell noiselessly into the darkness again.