//------------------------------//
// 6. The Cowardly Gryphon 
// Story: The Delightful Dragon of Ep 
// by Laichonious the Grey 
//------------------------------//




Far to the west, in the lands said to have been flattened to make way for the setting sun, there was a single lonely crag. Upon this lonely crag stood a dark and imposing castle, made all the more imposing from how it loomed over the plains. Haphazard towers leaned over the grey stony butte so severely, that magic was all that held them up, and a supreme force of will in the stones that made them. This was the land of the Whinnies, a pleasant pony race that had the unfortunate condition of being green-coated with ultramarine stripes. Whinnies are a timid bunch, considering there are few places they could go and not stand out. They were quiet ponies who enjoyed simple things, but they had a curious affection for castles and masonry. Indeed, the small town that hugged the east side of the cragg looked less like a town and more like a clutch of castlings huddled around the mother castle. High in the tallest tower of the grand castle on the crag, a single window shone with the light of magic, and vibrated to the squeals of mischievous laughter.
“Ooo that was a good one, Shoots! Do it again!” said the small and deceptively sweet voice of a young filly.
Two other fillies giggled back.
“I've got another one set up in the market for tomorrow!” proclaimed an orange filly with a shock of maroon for a mane and a set of small wings on her back. She wasn't one of the Whinnies, of course. She was one of the Steeples from the north, and one of the youngest practicing Witches.
The other two youngest Witches in the land of Ep sat across from her on a lush red rug. One was a white filly with an unruly mane of pink, laced with darker strands of blue. She was one of the Triplings, who made their home in the south. A delicate, thin horn protruded from her forehead, alight with a faint aura. The third filly was the only Whinny in attendance and she happened to be the owner of the castle on the cragg. The castle had not always been dark and imposing, and the Whinnies had not always been so subdued. That all started when the Three Terrible Terrors had come to be.
“I bet that we can make it better before then though,” said the white filly, peering into the large crystal ball, supported by a stand of iron claws. The ball glowed with the same faint aura as her horn.
The orange Steeple fluttered her wings in anticipation. “How do yah figure, Sparks?” 
“Ooo! I know!” the Whinny filly jumped up. “We could put three barrels on top of each other and break off the hoops on the bottom, not like, all the way, but just enough so that the juice splashes everypony  in the stall! It'll be priceless!”
“I like your thinkin', Boots,” Sparks said with a sly smile.
“Ooo, wait. Sparks, show us the corner of that street again. I've got an idea.”
Sparks raised an eyebrow at her friend. “What's in that crazy head of yours, Shoots?” she asked, a grin tugging at her lips as she changed the image in the ball.
The orange filly chuckled as she peered into the ball, then stuck out her tongue in concentration. The ball showed the corner of the street where a rope weaver's stall sat adjacent to a carpenter's shop. “They'll get splashed, right, then run this way, since the other’s a dead end... watch this.” She concentrated on the image again. A rope slithered like a snake out of the rope weaver's stall and over to the carpenter's shop. It wrapped around a length of wood that supported a bag of sawdust and shavings. The rope then tightened itself, rising up off of the road just enough that it would catch the hooves of a running pony.
“Ahaha! That's sneaky, Shoots. Remind me to never be on the receiving end of your pranks.” Boots said with another giggle.
The two other fillies joined her, but their mirth was cut short by the loud and obnoxious bray of a goat. “Uh-oh,” the three chimed in unison as the sound of wind chimes approached the door to their scrying room, “Auntie Pink.”
The door exploded inward and slammed into the wall with the sound of songbirds rather than the usual wood on stone. The Wicked Witch of the East, dubbed Auntie Pink by the three little fillies, stood on the side of the doorframe absolutely livid. Sparks let her spell drop, returning the crystal ball to a state of clear emptiness. Wind chimes once again sounded as the evil practitioner of the orient stepped from the doorframe to the wall inside the room. A smile of supreme mischief spread over her face like peanut butter over warm toast. "Hey girls," she said sweetly, an ear twitching, "I've got something better than messing with Whinnies all day."
The same smile spread over the three fillies' faces. "We're listening," Boots replied to a chorus of giggles.









“Is it getting darker, or is that just my imagination?” Rarity murmured to the trees. The eerie silence of the forest was disturbed only by the soft clink and whurr of Lumberjack's mechanics and their quiet conversation. As they walked farther from the abandoned cottage, the trees had become incredibly dense and the road increasingly rough.
“Eeyup, I'd say the trees are getting awfully friendly.” Lumberjack's gemstone eyes swept over the road, sparkling as they moved.
“What's wrong with that?” Smartypants quipped, jaunting along the road in her strange nearly-always-falling-on-her-face way. “I like friends, though I don't know how you would be able to be friends with a whole forest without hurting some trees' feelings.”
Lumberjack chuckled with Rarity. “That's not what I meant, hun. I was just saying how the trees are getting closer and closer together. Y'know,” the metal pony said, her expression falling slightly, “it used to be my job to make these trees keep their distance. This here is the Marching Forest, and it looks like it got a move-on while I was... stuck.”
“Marching Forest?” Rarity repeated, glancing uneasily at tall trees. “Do the trees actually move?”
Lumberjack shook her head, producing a soft squeaking as she did so. “The trees are pretty well rooted, y'know, just like any other. But this forest grows faster than any normal forest, and it doesn't grow out in all directions like you would think. Nah, this forest is headed someplace, and it wants to get there yesterday.” She nodded at the end of her utterance, tin mane clinking quietly in the gloom.
“If it wants to go somewhere so badly, why didn't you wait to build the road?” Smartypants asked, turning her head, and nearly tripping on a loose brick.
“Ah, well that's the thing, the Dragon told us to build it and this forest doesn't move all at once. There's a big ol' swath of trees from here to the Great Desert in a straight line pointed north-east, like somepony just took a big brush and painted all them trees there, with a ruler. The trees might grow faster than your average forest, but it still took it an awful long time to get this far, and it ain't gonna let a road stop it.”
Rarity considered the forest for a moment, she had a niggling feeling that she had been in a dark forest once before, one that didn't seem natural either. She couldn't pin it down so, in frustration, she decided to find out more about Ep. “Has the Dragon always been here?”
The tin mare turned from her intent study of the trees. “Oh, no. He's been here since before I was built but the tinsmith told me of a time when the Dragon wasn't here. He said it was awful. He was only a colt when the Dragon came, but he could remember. Back then, there was another ruler, the Ice Queen. Nopony knew where she came from or how long she'd been ruling, but they did know that things were getting worse. It was always cold, the winters were harsh, and the Queen grew colder every year. They said her heart had frozen solid, that she could feel no compassion, had no mercy and could never be pleased. She punished the ponies severely if they so much as looked at her, and she was always out wandering the land, looking for something. I don't know how they had the good fortune to have Ep come and save them, but the tinsmith believed that it was the Cardinal Witches, the ones who governed for the Queen, who called the Dragon from the Great Desert.”
“Cardinal Witches?” Smartypants whispered to herself. “Were there four of them?”
“Eeyup, one for each quarter of the Ice Queen's realm, one in each direction.”
“What about the Wicked Witch of the East?” Rarity asked.
“Wicked what-now?” Lumberjack asked with alarm.
Rarity bit her lip. “The Wicked Witch of the East? She's been terrorizing the poor little Punchins for some time now, as I understand. I sort of, defeated her, when my boutique fell on her head. Nopony was hurt,” she added hastily, “but Selene made it sound like this sort of thing has been going on for a long time.”
Lumberjack's face crinkled in consternation. “You got to talk to the Witch of the North? Wow.... Last I knew, Ventina was the Witch of the East... I must have been standing in that clearing longer than I thought...”
Rarity was in the midst of trying to find something to say that would cheer up the metal pony when Smartypants abruptly stumbled into her.
“Rarity...” The scarecrow's voice tremmored as she sat on the road where she fell, pointing a hoof at the trees. “There's something out there.”
Both the white unicorn and the metal pony scanned the forest with eyes darting around. Rarity listened for all she was worth, but she could only hear her own breathing and Lumberjack's gears. But then, she took in what she was actually seeing. The road was gone. She stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. “Lumberjack, do you know where the road went?” She tried to keep the panic from her question.
With the faint creaking of hinges, the tin mare looked down from her study of the dark branches overhead. “What do yah mean where the road...” She stared at the trees ahead, devoid of a road, a veritable arboreal wall. “...went... Well, this just grinds my gears is what it does. I worked awfully hard to clear this stretch of woodland, not to mention the lions.” She stamped a hoof into the forest litter.
Rarity gulped. “D-did you say, lions?”
Lumberjack nodded. “And tigers, and bears.”
“Oh my,” gasped Smartypants.
“Do... Do you think they’re still out there?” Rarity asked, taking a step back from the dark trees.
Lumberjack thought about it for a moment. “Probably not,” she conceded.
Rarity heaved a relieved sigh.
“They like a little more space. What we really need to worry about are the mobs of red squirrels, nasty little varmints. They kept trying to throw nuts and things into my gears.”
Rarity gave up a dainty little laugh. “Oh I don't think that'll be a problem, darling. A little magic could scare them off easily.”
“Did I mention the Whirligigs?”
Both Rarity and Smartypants knit their brows at the tin mare. “The what?” Rarity dared to ask.
“The Whirligigs,” she repeated, as if saying it again would jog memories that weren't there. After her friends graced her with blank looks, the metal pony continued. “They're big birds, love dark forests, like this one. They can't fly in straight lines, and they can be kinda stupid, but they love anything with bright colors.” She glanced at the branches again. “Especially if it's shiny. I lost quite a few of the tinsmith's bricklayers to those buzzards.”
“What did they do with them?” Smartypants asked, deeply intrigued.
“Well, like I said, they aren't too smart. They tried to pick up the bricklayers and fly off with them to their nests, but they would get tired and drop them somewhere... I don't know if any of them will be around though, they don't get along too well with gryphons.”
“All right,” Rarity said, tapping a hoof on the barren forest floor. "Worrying about the animals won't get us any closer to the Ruby City. Lumberjack, do you remember how the road went to the city?”
The tin mare raised a silvery eyebrow at the forest. “Golly, I wish I did. Everything looks so different now. If we could figure out which way is west, we could head that way and we'll get to the edge eventually.”
“Oo-oo!” Smartypants exclaimed, jumping up to her hooves. “I know what we can do!” She danced in place, her face wrinkled in an excited smile.
Rarity smiled at the scarecrow. “Okay, let's hear it.”
“Lumberjack, you're really good at chopping down trees, right?”
The metal pony nodded, confused.
“This tree right here,” the scarecrow ran over to a tree not far from where they stood, “is really tall, so we could see for a long ways if we got to the top right?”
“Yes,” Rarity answered slowly.
“We could have Lumberjack cut it down so that we can get on top of it, then we can see which way to go!” She finished in an excited rush and giggled to herself.
Lumberjack eyed the tree. “Why would I cut it down?”
“So that it's easier for us to get on top of it.”
“Yeah,” Lumberjack admitted, “but then the top is on the ground there, hun. We would be right back where we started.”
One of the scarecrow's ears flopped down as the turned and considered the tree. “Oh... I’m, new at this whole idea thing...”
Rarity stepped forward and gave the scarecrow an affectionate nudge and a smile. “That’s okay, dear. It was still a good idea.”
“It was?” Smartypants asked excitedly.
“Well instead of trying to get all three—” Opal let out a surly mewl, “—ahem, four of us to the top of the tree, we only need to get one. I think you would do really well, Smartypants. Lumberjack is just too heavy for me to lift all the way up there. No offence, Lumberjack.”
“None taken,” the metal mare replied with a smile.
The scarecrow thought for a moment, but then her ears perked up and her face folded into a wide smile. “I think that is a great idea, Rarity!”
In no time at all, the fashionista lifted the scarecrow easily to the top of the big old tree. Rarity and Lumberjack waited anxiously for Smartypants to orient herself. “What do you see up there, darling?” Rarity called to the rustling leaves above.
“Lots of trees!” Smartypants called back. “They go on for a long ways in every direction, but I can see the road, I think.”
“That's wonderful!” Rarity said, sharing a relieved glance with Lumberjack. “Will you be able to remember which way it is when I bring you back down?”
“Oh, sure! We just have to go towards the blue thing there.” Smartypants replied, her voice muffled slightly by the rustle of leaves in the wind.
“Blue thing?” Lumberjack asked, her strings resonating loudly.
“Yeah, it looks like an animal, maybe the one I saw earlier.” There was a pause, then some rustling of leaves. Rarity could see several branches shifting above. “Hello!” Smartypants called. “I'm Smartypants, what's your na—Waaa!”
A screech, loud and harsh, echoed through the forest, making the white unicorn's coat stand on end. “Smartypants?!”
The scarecrow appeared, falling through the branches of the tree, flailing her legs and exclaiming random syllables as she hit branch after branch. Her tail of tattered cloth snagged in the cleft of a lower bough, and with a loud series of pops in quick succession, the stitching gave out, depositing half of the poor scarecrow on the ground in a shower of hay.
The fashionista made to rescue the disassembled pony, but a large blue and tan blur descended from above, landing before her. Rarity gasped and took a step back. A gryphon! Ebony claws, protruding from golden-scaled forelegs and sharp as razors, dug mercilessly into the soft earth. Stunning light blue, nearly white, plumage covered the gryphon's head and chest, shimmering with her every movement. A sharp, yellow beak sneered at Rarity below brilliant rose eyes. Her wings were spread, intimidating with their size, tan feathers tipped in gold. She lashed a long tail with a bushy tuft of red fur side to side as she gazed coldly down at the ponies in front of her.
Rarity dared not to breathe, instead concentrating on swallowing her pounding heart.
The gryphon smiled, sniffing at them. “And exactly who do yah think you are,” she sneered, pinning Rarity to the spot with a single rose eye, “trespassing in my forest?!”
Rarity took another step back. “I-uh, we're just-ahaha... passing through?” she stammered, putting on a smile. She shot several glances at Lumberjack, but the metal pony wasn't moving at all.
“Yeah you were passing through,” the gryphon jeered. “Trespassing!” she shouted, jumping at Rarity.
The white unicorn reared up, letting out a whinny. The sudden movement jarred the basket on her back, aggravating the already cranky kitty inside. The clasp on the lid fell out of place, unleashing a white ball of fury on the forest. Opal catapulted from her wicker prison right into the gryphon's surprised face. The gryphon squawked, whipping her head around to dislodge the mewling feline. Opal finally released the gryphon, sailing through the air to land with inexplicable grace on a low branch. She flicked her tail and hissed at her most recent victim, who cowered under a wing.
“What is that thing?!” the gryphon wailed, stumbling back. She put a claw up to her cheek where a small gash marred her feathers. She winced at the scratch. 
Opal alighted from the tree and casually started to stroll towards the gryphon. Upon seeing her assailant advancing, the gryphon let out another surprised squawk, scrambling away from the cat. “Hey, whoa! You stay away from me or-or I'll—gah!”
With another hiss, Opal lunged for the gryphon, the latter taking to the air and spouting hysterics. Rarity stood, dazed and confuzed, in the little clearing, watching her cat chase the fearsome gryphon around a bush. Why the gryphon didn't just fly away was a mystery but for every moment that the chase continued the more hysterical the gryphon became. It took the white unicorn only a few moments to pull her scrambled wits back together, but by the time she had done so, the gryphon was clinging on to a higher bough and attempting to fend off Opal with a stick.
“Get it away! Please! I'll do anything you ask, just save me!” the gryphon wailed.
“My, my. Such a fuss over a little cat,” Rarity mumbled as she scooped up the hissing cat in azure telekinesis. The gryphon watched from the safety of the branch as the cat disappeared back into her basket. 
She heaved a grateful sigh when the lid snicked shut. “Figures,” she mumbled pitifully, jumping down from the branch. A claw went up to the scratch on her cheek, where trickled a bit of blood, staining her bright feathers. A tear joined it as the gryphon's shoulders began to shake. “Worthless, useless...” she mumbled, more tears flowing freely in diamond-like drops.
Her fear totally forgotten, Rarity approached the poor creature. “Can I help you, dear?”
“Go away,” the gryphon moaned, unfurling a wing and using it as a barrier to hide under.
“Are you sure?” Rarity asked, as she tried to gently nose the wing away.
A few sniffs and quiet sobs answered her. The wing stayed firmly in place.
“Uh, Rarity,” Smartypants called softly, “you still have more of that thread, right?”
“Y-yes, darling I'll be there in a moment...” She studied the gryphon a moment longer, but true to her word, she left the gryphon to console herself and went to the aid of the fallen scarecrow. It was a simple matter to gather up the hay and discarded limbs, so her mind was only partly occupied with the task.
“What is she?” the scarecrow asked innocently, her button eyes fixed on the gryphon's shuddering form.
Rarity interrupted her own spinning questions and spared a glance for the creature. “She's a gryphon, half lion, half eagle. If I'm remembering correctly,” she said, stuffing the last of the hay back into the scarecrow, “they are very proud creatures, fearless hunters, long-winded and short-tempered.”
“Ooohh,” Smartypants whispered. A few stitches went into her side as she studied the gryphon. “Why is she crying? Is she sad about something?”
Rarity grimaced. “You don't always have to be sad to cry, darling. Sometimes ponies—”
“And gryphons?”
Rarity nodded. “—and gryphons, will cry if their feelings are hurt.”
“I hope I didn't do that,” Smartypants said, looking up at Rarity.
The fashionista smiled at her. “No, Smartypants, I don't think that it was anything you did.”
“I think she could use a friend.”
“Yes,” Rarity said, tying off the thick black thread and closing off the stitching, “she could, but just stay here for now and let her calm down. I'm afraid that Opal scared her rather badly. I think I should see to Lumberjack...”
Smartypants sat up and started wiggling around to redistribute her stuffing. Rarity kept the gryphon in the corner of  her eye while crossing the clearing to the motionless tin mare. After a quick inspection, she decided that her springs must have gone out again. The crank came out of its little storage cubby on the tin mare's belly and turned in the socket easily. Lumberjack blinked. Rarity quickly wound the other spring so that the metal pony could talk.
“Thanks again, Rarity,” she said, taking a quick survey of the clearing. “I guess we didn't wind them springs up enough. Usually I can go for about five days without needin' a wind. Could you give it a few more goes on each one? I'd do it myself but I could do with a fresh wind, I think.”
Rarity wordlessly obliged, turning the crank until Lumberjack stopped her.
“Is everything alright, sugarcube?” Lumberjack’s strings whispered.
Rarity stowed the crank away. She wished that she could put away her troubling thoughts so easily. “Yes... yes everything is fine... I just, have to....” She left the words behind, trotting back to the gryphon in what felt like a muddled dream.
The gryphon still hid under her wing, but at least now she was no longer crying. Rarity could see the rose glint of her eyes watching from between her outstretched feathers. She should have been terrified of the gryphon. She should be running as fast as she could in the opposite direction. But no, she was walking up to an emotionally unstable gryphon.
“Are you all right?” Rarity found herself asking.
The gryphon grunted. “Why do you care?”
Rarity tisked at her. She had had just about enough of this silliness. She nosed the wing aside. “Because I do. Do I need a reason?”
The gryphon only stared back at her.
Magic strung up around Rarity’s horn. The gryphon tensed, sucked in a breath and held perfectly still. A single white kerchief floated from one of Rarity’s saddlebags along with a salve vial. Two drops went onto the cloth, and it gently cleaned the blood from the gryphon’s cheeks and relived the stinging from the scratch. The gryphon held her breath until Rarity took a few steps back, and even then, the white unicorn didn’t know if she was breathing. 
“You... aren’t mad at me?” the gryphon whispered when the magic faded from Rarity’s horn.
The fashionista gave a little flip to her mane. “Why ever would I be cross with you, darling?”
The gryphon shrugged. “I dunno, maybe ‘cuz I scared you and then chased your demon around...”
“You startled us, yes, but from where I stood, Opal was doing the chasing.”
“That thing has a name?” The gryphon asked incredulously. She eyed the wicker basket warily.
“Yes and she’s not a demon, even if she can be a bit, unruly. She’s a cat, dear.” Rarity said, sitting at her ease across from the gryphon. Lumberjack joined her on her left, and Smartypants ambled over to sit on her right. “How about you? Do you have a name?”
“Pishaw,” the gryphon scoffed, “why would I need a name? Why would any gryphon need a name?”
“To tell you apart from each other?” Smartypants blurted out.
The gryphon sniffed and cast an annoyed look at the scarecrow. “That was rhetorical.”
“Re-wha—?”
“You weren’t supposed to answer,” the gryphon spat.
“Then, why’d you ask?”
The gryphon made a series of choking noises. “It doesn’t matter if I asked, you just weren’t supposed to answer. Okay? Sheesh, do you even have a brain?”
“No,” Smartypants stated matter-of-factly.
“Yeah well y—Really?”
Smartypants nodded, her floppy face making the act supremely silly.
“Whatever,” the gryphon grumbled.
“So I take it you don’t have a name, “ Rarity said.
The gryphon froze, her eyes snapping to the white unicorn.
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “What did the other gryphons call you?”
“Plenty of things,” the gryphon said under her breath, shying away from Rarity.
“Like what?” Lumberjack asked quietly.
The gryphon peered balefully at the tin mare from under her brow. “Like worthless, useless, scaredy-cat, good-for-nothin’, disgrace, pest, you name it. Anything... but gryphon.”
“Why would they do that?” Smartypants asked, disbelief rustling her hay and sorrow in her voice.
“‘Cuz... that’s what I am.” The gryphon glowered at the ground. “I’m afraid of everything, I can’t help it. I don’t know what’s wrong.” Her chest started to heave, she blinked back tears, but she did her best to keep talking. “I’ve tried everything, but even a mouse has more courage than me. They ran me out, kicked me out of the clan. They couldn’t stand the shame... a gryphon afraid of her own tail....”
“I don’t think you’re worthless,” Rarity began, but the gryphon shied back, hiding under her wing again. “Why do you do that?” the fashionista asked, exasperated.
“I—I’ve heard about you...” the gryphon whispered, “you’re the White Witch. You came from the sky, the stars dance for you. You defeated the Pink One.”
“How do you know all that?” Lumberjack interjected. “She’s only been here a few days.”
The gryphon risked a glower at the tin mare. “Word travels quickly in the forest, if you know where to listen. I’m always listening, so that I know where to run, where to hide. I haven’t lived this long on my own without knowing how to listen for threats.”
“Am I a threat?” Rarity asked.
The gryphon cowered. “Please don’t turn me into a hat!” she whined.
“Pupht, why would I do that, darling? That’s absolutely preposterous. I’m not going to hurt you, none of us are.”
“What about that crazy demon in your box?”
“Opal will behave herself. Won’t you, Opal?”
The cat grumbled in the basket.
Rarity stood and then nosed the gryphon’s wing away again. “I don’t think you’re worthless.” She told the gryphon point-blank.
“Why?” the gryphon squeaked back.
“Because you can show us how to get to the other side of the forest, and I would like you to come with us to the Ruby City. Does that sound nice?”
“B-but the Dragon lives there!” The gryphon’s eyes went wide as saucers. “He’s huge, and scaly, and has teeth bigger than my whole body, and he can crush diamonds with his jaws, and breathe fire! You’re crazy if you think I’ll get any closer than I am right now!”
“Yes, the Dragon lives there,” Rarity said gently, “but he’s the only one who can help me get home.”
“And he can give me a brain!” Smartypants exclaimed, bouncing where she stood.
“And he can give me a heart,” Lumberjack informed the gryphon calmly.
“He can do all that?” The gryphon took in a deep breath. “Do you think he could give me courage?”
“Sure he can, darling. We’ll go with you,” Rarity said smiling.
A ghost of a smile touched the gryphon’s severe beak. “I... guess it’s worth a try.”
“That’s the spirit!” Rarity tilted her head to the side, a sudden idea presenting itself. “Argent.” Rarity nodded perfunctorily. “That’s what I’ll call you, because of your beautiful feathers.”
“What?” The gryphon furrowed her brow.
“Your feathers remind me of silver, dear. Argent is another name for silver.”
“Argent....” She tried the word out.
“We could call you Argie,” Rarity offered.
“Haha!” sang Lumberjack’s strings. “Argie, I like that. It’s got a ring to it.”