Gilda stood at a crossroads, the path branching in two directions before her. She had been here many times before, and knew the paths well. To the left, the path wandered aimlessly, eventually doubling back upon itself and leading back to where she stood. It was a path she was very familiar with. To the right, the path was short and straight, but she could see exactly what awaited her at the end. It was a cage, built just for her. A cage with no escape. Sighing heavily, she once again began to walk down the path to the left...
Then the train began to screech to a halt.
Gilda groaned and covered her ears with her claws as the piercing sound of the train's brakes tore her from her dreams. She groaned a second time when she remembered where she was, and that she was going to be really sore from sleeping in the cramped, pony-sized bunk. After awkwardly squirming for a while to get her feet into position, the griffin finally managed to climb out of the bunk just as the train lurched to a complete stop.
"About time," Gilda yawned, leaning back as she stretched her legs in a feline manner. "Get your things together, I don't want to spend another minute in this stupid box of a room." Nobody answered. "Hello?" the griffin called, searching the bunks. Her companion was nowhere to be found. That pony ditched me! When get my claws on her, I'll-
"Oh, hey, Gilda! Glad to see you're up!" The door to the room slid open to reveal Lyra, with all of her bags in tow. "I got up early to snag some breakfast before the train stopped, but I thought that you could use the sleep considering how early we started yesterday, and how far you must have traveled."
"Oh, that's fine..." Gilda said, feeling stupid for getting angry. I would have rather eaten breakfast, though. I can't remember the last time I ate three square meals in a day... As if she had read the griffin's mind, Lyra hovered a brown paper bag over to Gilda. "What's this?"
"I figured you'd be hungry, so I saved you some food," the pony replied. "It's not much, just some jam on toast, but it's all I could sneak out of the dining car."
"Uh, thanks," Gilda said, tucking the bag under her wing and eying the unicorn suspiciously. What kind of game is she trying to play here? The entirety of Lyra's behavior confused her, and she continued to ponder the pony's actions as they exited the train and stepped on to the crowded platform. She's got to have some sort of ulterior motive, Gilda concluded. After all, everyone always did.
"Move it, slowpokes!" Gilda pushed her way through the crowd, clearing a path for Lyra's luggage behind her. Most ponies were content to give her as much space as they could, but a few just weren't paying attention. Luckily, it only took a light shove have them come to their senses and scurry out her way. "We're almost out, hurry up!" the griffin called back to Lyra as she picked up the pace.
"What's the big deal?" Lyra asked, speeding up to a swift trot. "We've got plenty of time, no need to rush."
"Maybe not for you. I am done with being cooped up like this!" Gilda replied as the pair finally made it out the front door of the train station. Reveling in the open air, Gilda spread her wings wide and shot straight up into the sky, catching the bag with her breakfast in it with a claw. This was the first time in over a day that she had even been able to stretch her wings, much less actually get off the ground. It's about time I got some room to move around! Finally taking the chance to look at her surroundings, Gilda saw the sprawling Manehattan skyline laid out before her. Skyscrapers, just built in the last few decades, were clustered in the middle of the island the city was build on. The buildings got smaller and older the farther away from the center of the city they went, eventually fading into the districts near the ocean and directly below her, where many touches of old Earth Pony traditions were still visible. Trees lined the old brick roads, and squares were dedicated to simple market booths, not unlike those found in Ponyville. She was by no means alone in the sky, either. Pegasi zipped every which way through the air, some traveling in small groups, some hauling cargo, and some simply enjoying the nice weather like her. Gilda performed a few simple flips, twirls, and barrel rolls, getting her heart pumping and putting a smile on her face.
"Must be great to be up there, huh," Lyra's voice said, seemingly coming from nowhere.
"What?" Gilda whirled around, confirming that there was no one close enough to talk to her without shouting. Looking back down at the ground, she spotted Lyra, who was standing right where she had left her. Griffins had excellent eye sight, just as any bird of prey, and could easily pick out individuals from a crowd at her altitude. Gilda could even make out the individual cutie marks of the ponies if she focused. The most a pony could hope to see of her at that distance is a small, brown dot in the sky. Must have been imagining things...
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you" the voice said, once again startling the griffin. "I'm just using a sound spell to project my voice up to you. It lets me modify the volume and origin point of a sound any way I want. Pretty cool, huh? I usually use it when performing in front of a large audience or when I want to practice without bothering anypony, but it's pretty handy for these kinds of situations."
Handy for you, maybe. Not so much for relaxing in peace... Gilda sighed and rolled her eyes. At least she had the freedom to do that in private.
"Anyway, you can stay up there if you'd like, but stay close." Lyra began to trot down the street. "Our first stop is at the docks to buy tickets for a ship. Then we'll need to find a place to spend the night."
Makes sense, and at least I get to stay off the crowded streets, Gilda thought. Something didn't sit right with her, though, but she pushed it to the back of her mind as she began lazily gliding in circles above her charge, deciding to relax while she had the chance. Opening the paper bag, the griffin drew out her breakfast and began to idly snack on it. Look's like I've got it easy, today. That's... Nice. She wanted to think that it was nice. Great, even. She couldn't. Looking at the food in her claws, she finally began to realize why...
Until today, Manehattan had been nothing but distant memories for Lyra. Memories of busy streets and the scent of salt on the air. Memories of standing backstage in old theaters and watching her Master perform. Memories of looking out at the lights of the city in awe of its life and energy...
"Do you know the difference between an artist and a performer, Heartstrings?" Cambiare had asked her one afternoon before a concert as they walked down one of the city's older streets. She had only been apprenticed to the griffin for a week at this point, and he hadn't even begun to teach her the basics, yet.
"No," the filly answered. "They sound the same to me."
"They do to most people, but there is a difference. It's subtle, but of monumental importance for you to understand." The griffin stopped at an intersection, and gestured to a stallion across the street, surrounded by a small audience of other ponies. He wore a strange outfit and looked to have painted his face white. Heartstrings quickly realized that he was a mime. "Why does that pony do what he does?"
"To get money," Heartstrings answered, noticing the open jar of bits on the ground nearby, ready for ponies to toss a few coins into.
"And how does he make sure that he does?"
"He..." the filly began, only to realize that she really had no idea. She decided to just throw out a guess. "He... makes sure that everypony likes him?"
"Exactly!" Cambiare smiled.
"Really?" Heartstrings asked, astonished that she had been right.
"Indeed. You can see him react to everything that gets a laugh from his audience, and adjusting to deliver it more often. Now, what about that mare over there?" The griffin gestured to the opposite street corner, where a young mare had set up an easel and canvas for painting, and was staring intently at the blank space, brush in mouth. On the ground behind her were several other paintings lines up for sale, though Heartstrings couldn't make out what they were about at this distance. "Why is she painting?"
"Money, again." Heartstrings answered confidently.
"No," the griffin said, catching the filly off guard.
"What? Why?" Heartstrings asked. "She's selling her work, right?"
"She is, but not for the money. It is an easy assumption to make, though, especially since you cannot see all the details I can. I can read the prices on those paintings from here, though, and the most any of them are going for is twenty bits. She must spend hours on those paintings, possibly even days. To sell it all for twenty bits? You'd make more money cleaning tables in a cheap restaurant."
"She's... painting for herself... for her art?" the filly proposed, beginning to understand. "And the mime is performing for the crowd, right? Does that mean that the painter is an artist, and the mime is a performer?"
"Perhaps," Cambiare answered. "In truth, it all comes down to motive, and you can never truly know what someone else is thinking."
"But why are you telling me this if it doesn't matter?"
"Because it is important that you decide what your motives are. Great music comes from true convictions and pure thoughts. I could teach you everything I know, but it would amount to nothing if you never know why you want to make music."
"Then I want to be an artist, right?" Heartstrings asked. "Since performers are in it for the money."
"Really, now?" The griffin raised an eyebrow. "What if I told you that I consider myself a performer?"
"I... um..." the filly stammered.
"A performer works their craft for their audience. While some would use that to exploit their audience, others may choose to benefit their audience. Is a comedian wrong for wanting to make their audience laugh? Is a writer right for choosing to make a story to please their own fantasies with no regard to the reader? I live for sharing the experience of my music with others, and my music is created for that design."
"So... I should be a performer, then?"
"You're missing the point!" Cambiare sighed and shook his head. "There is no right or wrong choice, only what you truly want to do. You may have a lyre on your flank, but you've yet to decide what it really means to you. Why do you want to play it?"
"I... I just want to make music." Heartstrings could think of no other reason.
"Then you have much to learn," The griffin said sternly. After a moment, though, his expression softened, and he gave the filly a pat on the head. "And I guess it's about time that I started to teach."
Eventually, Lyra arrived at the docks, ending her trot down memory lane. As any place in Manehattan, the docks were a busy and crowded place. Dozens of ships tugged on their moorings as they drifted with the ebbing tide, and hundreds of ponies bustled back and forth boarding and disembarking, hauling luggage and cargo. Soon she found herself struggling against the crowd itself, trying to find a travel agency or anywhere else she could buy tickets. She wasn't exactly the tallest of ponies, though, and her usual tactic of hopping to see over a crowd was only effective if she knew what she was looking for in the first place. Luckily, she had another option: her eyes in the sky. Gazing upwards, she soon spotted the familiar brown blot against the blue sky. She focused her magic and again sent her voice to the griffin.
"Hey, Gilda. Sorry to disturb you, but I could use a hoof... er, hand down here." It was a strange sensation, using her projection spell on her own voice. She could feel the vibrations in her throat, and see her muzzle move as she spoke, but to her, she was completely silent. "I need you to come down to where I can talk to you face to face." The blot in the sky paused for a moment, probably to groan with annoyance, before racing towards the ground and coming to a stop just a few feet over the heads of the ponies in the crowd. The ponies scattered in fear for a moment before continuing with their hustle and bustle as if nothing had happened. After all, time is money.
"What is it?" Gilda asked, grumpy as ever.
"I've gotten myself pretty- OOF!" Lyra stumbled as a passing stallion nearly bowled her over, almost dropping her luggage in the process. "Pretty lost here. You can see over the crowd, so do you think you could lead me to somewhere I could get is tickets for a ship? That is, if you're okay with that."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I just need you to point me in the right direction if you can, that's all."
"No, I got that," Gilda said. "It's just... nevermind." Sighing, the griffin began to scan the area around her, soon seeming to spot something in the distance. "That way." Gilda pointed off to Lyra's right, and the mare began to push her way through the crowd. Eventually, the crowd thinned out and Lyra found herself at a large booth with a small line of ponies in front of it. The sign above the booth read:
Trans-Aquastric Travel
The World is Waiting.
Why are You?
"You're the best, Gilda! Thanks!" the mare shouted up to her companion. "Sorry I had to bother you."
"Sure, whatever," the griffin grunted before returning to the sky in a huff.
What's up with her? Lyra wondered, moving to the back of the line. She must be uncomfortable with all of these ponies around. I'll have to do something to minimize that...
"Here we are, Room 307, " Lyra said, sliding a key into the lock of the hotel room door.
"About time." Gilda pushed past the unicorn and moved straight to the bed on the far side of the room, flopping onto it with a loud thud. It had been a long, frustrating day, but now the sun was setting. She was content so long as she got to sleep somewhere comfortable for once, even if it meant sharing a room with the pony again. I'm just going to have to get used to it, she told herself. Better to be annoyed for now than go hungry later.
"So, do ya like it? I made sure to get a room with a balcony, so you can go out there if you need some space or just want to fly." The mare cheerfully trotted over to her own bed to set down her luggage, seeming rather smug about the fact that she had thought of everything. This only continued to irritate the griffin.
"Yes, everything is just fine," Gilda sneered, immediately regretting the sarcasm in her voice. Now I've done it. She's just going to ask me-
"What's wrong?" Lyra asked.
"Nothing," Gilda groaned.
"It doesn't sound like nothing to me."
"Even if it were something, it wouldn't be any of your business." Gilda rolled over to face away from the pony, signalling that the conversation was over. An awkward silence filled the room, and Gilda welcomed it. She wanted nothing more than a quiet night's sleep at this point. Unfortunately, the scratching sound of a quill on paper soon reached her ears, being just barely loud enough to be distracting. After a few minutes of trying to ignore it, Gilda gave up. "What are you doing now?" the griffin asked, rolling back over to face the unicorn.
"Just writing something," Lyra answered, staring intently at the parchment levitating in front of her face as she sat kneeling on her bed.
"Can't it wait until later? I'm trying to sleep over here."
"Oh! I didn't realize it was bothering you, let me take care of that." The light of Lyra's horn flashed briefly, and the sound of the quill ceased. "It can't wait until morning, though. There's no time before we have to catch our ship."
"Why not just write it on the boat?" Gilda could help but ask, much to her own dismay.
"Because, I need to finish this before we leave Equestria." Lyra sighed for a moment and paused her writing. "I... was so excited to finally travel and see my Master again... I just up and left Ponyville without a second thought. I never really took the chance to say goodbye..." She smiled and turned to Gilda before continuing. "Is there anyone you want to say goodbye to? This is the last chance you'll have for a while, since once we get on that ship, there's no turning back."
"I said all of my goodbyes a long time ago."
"But you only found out about this job a little over a day ago!"
"So?"
"Oh..." The smile faded from Lyra's face as she began to understand. "But-"
"Drop it." Gilda interrupted, beginning to feel rather irritated again.
"But I'm just trying to help you!"
"I said drop it!" the griffin shouted back, beginning to raise her voice.
"Why can't you just-"
"What is wrong with you?! " Gilda screamed, silencing the unicorn as she leaped to her feet. She couldn't take it anymore.
"I... What?" Lyra stammered. Gilda didn't know what was worse: that the mare might be playing dumb, or that she might not have any idea what she was doing. Both ideas only made the griffin angrier.
"You've been paying for everything, giving me food, and you've never actually made me do anything this whole time! You're always asking nicely and saying that I don't have to do anything!" Gilda began, striding uncomfortably close to Lyra as she spoke, towering over the unicorn on the bed. "What's worse, you simply won't leave me alone! You keep poking your nose where it doesn't belong in the name of helping me! Do you know what that makes me? Your pet! That's all I am to you at this point! Something cute or exotic for you to drag around by the beak all day because it tickles your stupid pony fancies!"
"I'm... sorry? I was trying to be kind, that's all!" Lyra blurted out, getting defensive.
"Oh, really?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you needed the money, so I figured-"
"The money!" Gilda shouted, cutting Lyra off mid-explanation. "So that's it, then. I'm not a pet. I'm a charity case! You feel sorry for me!"
"I'm trying to be your friend!" Lyra countered, causing the griffin to take a step back and fall silent. The unicorn regained a bit of her confidence and smiled. "If you're anywhere near as alone as you seem to be, then-"
"Just. Shut. Up," Gilda interrupted again, this time calm and collected, her rage having given way to cold fury. "You are not my friend, got it? You pity me. You pity me with all of your 'superior' pony kindness, thinking that taking the high ground and simply giving will get you another friend to help inflate your ego!" Gilda walked away from the mare to the opposite side of the room. "I'm here to do a job, and that's what I'll do. That's all I'll do, and no amount of handouts or parties will change it any!"
"Parties? But I never-" Lyra tried to respond, only to receive a piercing glare from the griffin in return. Gilda threw open the sliding door to the balcony and stepped out. Turning around, she shot one last glare at Lyra before slamming the door behind her.
Good riddance. Gilda sighed as the cool night breeze hit her feathers. Finally, I'm all alone... Closing her eyes, she laid down and curled up on the hard floor of the balcony, hoping to get some sleep. Sleep never came.