//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Feathered Heart // by Demon Eyes Laharl //------------------------------// Fortrakt’s gloved claw came in fast, almost a blur, towards Marco’s side. If unsheathed, it would have stabbed the human right in the ribs, maybe penetrated and punctured his lungs. It still hurt, though, judging by Marco’s short but sharp cry as he moved away from Fortrakt, his arm protecting his side. “Dead,” Fortrakt declared, taking a few steps back, putting space between him and the human. He looked at Reyes, who gave him a nod. The Sergeant, who was overseeing the training outside the spartan ring Fortrakt had created, looked sharply at Marco. “What the hell dude? You’re moving even slower.” “You had me sparring non-stop for half an hour already!” Marco replied, glaring at his Marine friend. “You’re taking your break. Can’t I take mine?” “You know the rules,” Reyes said. “You don’t stop until you get in a solid hit.” Gilda, lying on all fours outside the ring, could see Marco closing his eyes, his lips thinning. She found it both fascinating and funny watching his expression going through changes. She could tell that he was irritated, angry at his friend and at himself, and frustrated at the situation he found himself in. Reyes was going full out today. He had reasons. Tomorrow, he was going to assist the Staff Sergeant in mobilizing Marines that would accompany the groups of human civilians going towards the different parts of the Kingdom. Chris, Tara, and Marco were all attached to the excursion trip in Southern Farmlands tomorrow. Naturally, Gilda and Fortrakt were joining them. Thinking about the trip, it surprised Gilda how much she was going to miss the morning training. For the past few days, both she and Fortrakt had woken up early to join Reyes’s routine. It served as a double purpose: it allowed the griffins to fulfill their morning runs, and allowed them to get closer to both the sergeant and Marco. Reading the latter had been easier ever since they both reached an understanding a few days ago. Clearing any misunderstanding between them, Gilda found herself hanging out more and more with Marco, who talked more openly and often with her. His tales of his hometown were interesting and informative, while her training stories captured quite a bit of his attention. Still, she wondered when they’d finish. The sun was slowly climbing its way towards its highest peak. As much as she enjoyed lazing around, kneading the loose dirt on the ground, and being outside the city, she and Fortrakt had a meeting with Captain Narada soon. Gilda half-wondered if she was going to talk to Reyes about it. “Come on, Robbie. At least give me a stick,” Marco said, voice weary. Reyes shook his head. “This spar simulates a situation when you’re unarmed.” “I’ll never be unarmed,” Marco countered. “You can never be too sure when it comes to combat situations,” Reyes replied. “If you lose your stick, you need to know how to defend yourself without it.” Gilda agreed. The Gauntlet had hammered that point to her, giving every recruit basic training to all available weapons in the Gryphon Arsenal and  claw-to-claw combat lessons at the same time. She opened her beak, squawked softly to get Marco’s attention, and gave him a nod. “Listen to Sergeant Reyes, Marco. Remember that encounter in the fields?” “I was fighting against two-to-one odds, Gilda,” Marco replied. “Not my point,” Gilda said. “You lost your collapsible baton during the scuffle. Things like that happen in combat. The Sergeant here is only trying to prepare you.” Marco sighed, then shook his head. He pointed towards the sheathed knife on Fortrakt’s side. “Okay, but come on. He’s got a knife on him!” Gilda gave him a slight smile. “Yes he does,” she agreed. “And he hasn’t even used it.” “Exactly my point!” Marco said. “Marco, stop wasting time here,” Reyes declared, deadpanned, getting Marco to glare at him. “Just land one solid hit and we’re going home.” “Yes, come on, Marco,” Fortrakt joined in. “I have better things to do than watch you flop around.” Marco looked hurt as he stared at Fortrakt. “Wha—dude! Harsh!” The tiercel's confused look got Gilda chuckling. “Fortrakt didn’t say that to insult you,” she clarified, looking at Marco. “Its the griffin way of telling their opponent that they can do this. Insults get blood pumping faster than praise. He wants you to put forth a better effort.” “Really?” Marco asked. He looked at Fortrakt, who nodded immediately. The human conceded with a sigh, then crossed his arms across his chest. “Look, Fortrakt’s a trained soldier. How am I supposed to beat him, unarmed, and protected with only leather arm braces?” Reyes smiled. “You have to figure that out. Just remember, Marco, this isn’t the pansy-ass spar you're used to. This is a combat simulation. No bowing and that shit. You step up and you go to fucking work. Now, come on!” Marco frowned, his expression deep in thought for a moment. When he faced Fortrakt, a spark appeared in his eyes. Gilda shifted, wondering if the human finally had a plan in mind. The two combatants approached the center of ring. Fortrakt arched his back, ready to attack, while Marco looked at him steadily. Reyes gave the two a look before nodding, slicing the air with his arm, declaring, “Okay, let’s go to war!” Fortrakt was about to charge in when Marco extended his hand forward, a call for a stop. Oddly enough, it was the same signal griffins would use as well. Fortrakt, surprised, slackened his stance. “What is it?” Fortrakt asked. “Fortrakt, look, are you sure you can’t just, I don’t know, stand still while I hit you once?” Marco asked. Fortrakt rolled his eyes. “Please, there’s no wa—” Marco made his move. His leg kicked up the loose dust on the ground towards Fortrakt’s unprepared face. The tiercel tried to immediately cover up, but it was too late. He screeched as he moved away, eyes closed and watering, and forelegs swiping blindly in front of him. The human stepped in, both his hands on his head, elbows out, as he moved, weaving in and out through the tiercel’s clumsy strikes. Marco’s forearm braces would protect him from any lucky strikes as he penetrated Fortrakt’s defenses, using his hard elbows as offensive weapons, trying to redirect the moving forelegs out of his way. Smart, but not enough, thought Gilda. Soon, Fortrakt would recover, and he’d put Marco down immediately. Then, Marco did something that surprised her. He grabbed Fortrakt’s extended foreleg, twisted it in a rather painful looking angle, and drove the tiercel down towards the ground. Marco locked him into position by using his legs to pin the griffin in place, freeing his hands to reach towards Fortrakt’s sheathed knife. In quick motion, Marco drove the flat of the blade towards the side of the griffin’s exposed neck. “Dead,” Marco declared. Reyes nodded. “Finally.” Marco eased away from Fortrakt, who recovered immediately. Standing up, he coughed up the last of the dust and looked at the sheepish-looking Marco. “Sorry,” Marco muttered. “Sorry about what? That was a great move,” Fortrakt replied with a grin. “Thanks,” Marco said. He handed the knife back to Fortrakt, who shook his head. “Nah, keep it,” the tiercel said. “You sure?” Marco asked. He looked at the blade. “This isn’t exactly a kitchen knife.” “Believe it or not, I got three of them,” Fortrakt replied. “I’m not going to miss one.” Gilda was on her feet, walking towards the ring. “Not bad, Marco,” she said. Marco replied with a grin. “Okay, now that training is done, want to continue Lord of the Rings?” he asked. “We’re at the Two Towers now, right?” “Yeah,” Gilda replied, but shook her head afterwards. “But we’ll have to do that after lunch. Fortrakt and I have a meeting to attend to.” Marco blinked, then nodded. “Ah, right. Its probably in regards to the preparations for our trip towards the Southern Farmlands, right?” Gilda slowly nodded. She didn’t want to lie so she settled for, “Mostly.” Marco just nodded. “Can’t wait.” As Gilda and Fortrakt walked away, the eagless spotted Reyes approaching Marco, hitting him on his shoulders hard enough to almost cause him to fall. As difficult it was to believe, that was a complimentary gesture. The latter shoved the sergeant back, who just laughed. When the two griffins were near the entrance of the Western Gates, Fortrakt spoke up. “About time he realized the knife was planted. Though I did not expect him to kick up the dust as an initial attack.” “Quite. Though I don’t think he realized that the knife’s presence was part of the test,” Gilda replied, looking at the tiercel. “He just thought of the best way to fight you off, and went with that.” Fortrakt looked a bit put off. “Sometimes I think Marco wasted his time learning those martial arts of his.” Gilda shook her head. “Marco’s not fully trained for competition or for warfare like us or Sergeant Reyes. He did it to keep fit and to be able to defend himself.” “Yes, see that’s the other thing!” Fortrakt exclaimed. “Their self-defense rules! I mean, honestly, first rule is to avoid confrontation, run when you can, and only fight when cornered? Best way to defend yourself is to put down your enemy immediately! We’ve seen humans kick rear like in that movie! Why can’t self-defense rules be like that?”   “Like Warrior, you mean?” Gilda clarified. “Exactly!” Gilda chuckled. “Apparently, human laws frowns on excessive fighting or somesuch. Kinda like Equestrian Ponies, really.”   Fortrakt frowned. “Well, he’s not on the human world. He should really let himself loose more often.” The eagless looked at her partner for a moment before smirking. “Oh, is my partner having fun doing Rounds with a male human?” “Wait, what?” “I mean, I did feel you were a bit jealous that I’m taking a lot of Marco’s time.” Gilda chuckled. “I wonder what that that eagless Talon will react when she finds out that the tiercel she has been having Rounds with is doing the same thing with a male human.” “That wasn’t a Round!” Fortrakt exclaimed. “And nice touch with the gift giving,” Gilda continued, as she didn’t hear him. “Are we going to hear plans for an Engagement soon?” “It was just a knife, not a—” and he got cut off by Gilda’s snort and laugh. The tiercel whistled out an annoyed trill. “Oh, shut up,” he finished. Gilda continued chuckling until they passed through the Western Gates, giving the guards a signal. Given the all-clear to fly, Fortrakt and Gilda arched their backs and launched themselves into the air, wings spread out. In rhythm, both griffins flapped their feathered appendages fast and hard, passing through the first level and going even higher until they reached the sixth. Finding the closest landing platform near Narada’s office, both griffins descended until all eight legs were touching the ground. “Hey,” Fortrakt began, “this meeting... are you sure you want to do this?” Gilda looked at her partner for a moment. “Why?” The tiercel looked around for a moment, then approached the eagless, whispering, “I don’t know if you heard, but Marco’s a bit in trouble with the human ambassador. They are threatening him to send him back to Earth.” “Well, I did hear that he was being given a hard time, but threatening to send him home?” Fortrakt nodded. “Yeah. Apparently, he embarrassed the humans during that time you had to act like a stupid cub. Ouch! Hey!” Gilda folded back her wing and rolled her eyes. “First of all, he touched my flight muscles. Second, I doubt my little discovery would affect his standing with the human ambassador in any way.” “You sure?” Fortrakt asked. “I’m pretty sure that the humans only brought seven agriculture specialists, and that it takes a few weeks of travel to get back to Equestria, and depending on how well they can communicate, even longer to replace one of their staff,” Gilda replied. “Besides, my report is nothing but a theory. And I doubt we’d risk friendly relations by telling the humans we may have discovered a secret of theirs, complete with bright blinking lights and fanfare. So, don’t worry about Marco.”   “If you say so,” Fortrakt replied, though his tone indicated that he was not entirely convinced. The two continued on towards Narada’s office in silence. Once in front of the door, Gilda knocked twice, and waited for until she heard Arnau’s captain response. “Come in.” Gilda and Fortrakt entered, spotting Captain Narada, as usual, behind her wooden desk. The presence of Ambassador Strenus, sitting on his haunches besides her, though, was quite a surprise. Gilda and Fortrakt immediately bared their necks. “Good morning, Captain,” Gilda greeted, then turned towards the Ambassador. “Good morning, Ambassador Strenus. I didn’t know you were called. We’d have arrived here much earlier. My apologies.” Strenus chuckled, his deep voice rumbling. “Do not worry about that, Sub-Tribune Behertz. Shall we?” “Yes, sir,” was all Gilda could say. She looked at Narada. “Sub-Tribune Behertz present for the report, sir.” Captain Narada nodded. Her claws began to spread a rolled scroll flat across her desk. “You said you may have some information in regards to the human weaponry?” “Yes, sir,” Gilda replied. She took a deep breath. “As you know, me and Fortrakt have been reporting on the black tubes and the variations we have seen.” Narada grabbed a scroll Gilda recognized as one of her reports. The Captain unfolded it and scanned through it. “According to this report, you've seen at least four variations.” “I found bulkiest the most interesting," Strenus interjected. “The one with that square block at the bottom, I believe. Though what about them, Sub-Tribune?” “Sir, I have a theory that all the weapons that the Marines are carrying are not in fact melee weapons, but ranged weaponry.” Narada and Strenus looked at each other before going back at Gilda. “Why would you say that, Sub-Tribune?” the Captain asked. “Observation,” Gilda replied. “I initially thought that their weapons were cumbersome to wield, but assumed that their fingers could compensate for it.” Narada raised her claw. “Excuse me, Sub-Tribune, but what are fingers?” Before Gilda could reply, Strenus answered for her. “Fingers, my dear Captain, are the human’s blunt yet nimble claws.” The Captain nodded. “Alright. Continue.” “Thank you, Ambassador,” Gilda said, looking at the older griffin. Then, she turned back towards Narada and continued, “As I said, I initially thought that their fingers would be more than enough to compensate for the weapon’s cumbersome form. I was wrong. “I’ve been personally observing how humans move and fight and I have concluded that the weapons are not designed for close combat. I believe Fortrackt and I have submitted reports in regards to these human ‘films’, Captain?” Narada nodded. “Yes you have,” she replied. “What does it have to do with anything?” “Well, the first film we’ve watched, Warrior, showcased human’s modern civilization in a country called USA,” Gilda said. “The next film we watched, Braveheart, was a historical re-telling of their older civilization in another country called Scotland. While the countries differ, I am sure my observation still applies. “Braveheart showcased how early humans fought in a war. They rode—” Fortrakt suddenly snickered, which got him the attention of three griffins. Gilda gave him her harshest stare, while Narada and Strenus looked at him curiously. “Yes, Auxiliary Guard Gletscher?” Narada asked. “Nothing, sir,” Fortrakt replied immediately, clearing his throat. He then stayed completely silent. Gilda ignored the urge to cuff him with her wing and settled on rolling her eyes. “As I was saying, Braveheart showed us that early humans waged war almost the same way as we do. They had melee weapons quite like ours. They used swords, spears, and shields. In matters of mobilization, they rode beasts of burden, Earth Horses, to move around the battlefield. And they also used bows and arrows, like the Equestrian unicorns, and a very primitive version of our crossbows.” Strenus stroked his chin. “Interesting. Bows and arrows, I can see them manipulating with their fingers. But you say they also use crossbows? That they have invented a weapon similar to ours?” “Yes, sir,” Gilda replied with a sharp nod. “Quite frankly, I am much more surprised on the similarities between the humans and ourselves. Even armor design look very familiar. However, this brings me back to the other film, Warrior, which is set on the modern human setting. “Living standard between the two films is very drastic. Building designs turned very sophisticated. From stone castles transforming to metal and glass towers that seemed to reach the sky. The more I think about it, sir, the more I realize that we could be very wrong on their current weapons. I cannot confirm by how they look, but judging the way they hold it, its very similar to how a Wind Knight would hold a crossbow.” Gilda took a breather before looking directly at Narada. “I think that modern human weapons are very advanced crossbows, firing small arrows. I recall we have developed spring-launched bolts at one point, and we may be looking at the same thing.” “While the weapons were theoretically possible, their power and range were laughable,” Narada commented. “Are you sure about this, Sub-Tribune?” “It’s all guesswork, Captain,” Gilda replied. “For all I know, they succeeded where we didn’t in regards to that particular venture. However, it all fits from what I’ve seen. I cannot believe that a race that has developed long range weaponry so long ago would stick to melee weaponry. Especially as cumbersome as those black tubes they are carrying.” Narada looked at Strenus, who nodded. “Very interesting, Sub-Tribune,” the Captain said. “To be honest, this is not the first time we’ve heard of the theory. However, it is just that: a theory. We were hoping that close contact with non-combatants would uncover new information in that regards, as they wouldn’t be as tight-beaked as soldiers.” Narada’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you haven’t discovered anything?” “No, sir,” Gilda replied easily. “I am actually suspecting that these films were chosen specifically to keep us in the dark. Warrior, while set in the modern human era, shows limited amount of human warfare. And considering circumstances, I believe that we were only able to watch it because we caught them by surprise. The rest of the films were all either set in the past or were pure fantasy.” Strenus’s eyes suddenly gleamed dangerously. “Has your purpose been discovered, Sub-Tribune?” Gilda looked at the Ambassador for a moment, wondering why she felt like she was given a loaded question. She took a moment to think back, remembering as much as she could on her interactions with Marco, Chris, and Tara. She recalled Reyes’s face and expressions. In the end, she shook her head. “I do not think they are aware that I’m spying on them,” Gilda replied. “However, I would not be surprised if the civilians were told to maintain silence.” “Heh. Humans come in force, and they have civilians remain vigilant for any information gathering.” Strenus didn’t laugh as much as roared. “Equestrians were never this fun. Yes, Auxiliary Guard Gletscher? ” Fortrakt lowered his claw. “Sir, we are pretty close to our three charges. Maybe we can ask them directly?” Strenus immediately shook his head. “No. We don’t want to risk insulting them, especially during this stage.” “What stage is that, sir?” Gilda asked. “I am sure you are aware of the trips around the Kingdom tomorrow, correct?” Gilda nodded. “The trips are the opening engagements for our trade agreement,” Strenus continued. “The humans claim that they have extensive crop selection and breed domesticated animals for food. They also understand the food shortages we’ve been having, and they believe they can help us on that regard.” “Does that mean we are being re-assigned?” Gilda asked, half-wondering why she suddenly felt uneasy for even suggesting it. “No,” Narada replied. “Continue observing the humans. Get as much information as you can. Who knows, maybe the Ancestors will bless us and you will learn the secrets behind the human weaponry, and more importantly, the race that wields them. Which reminds me, I believe this is a good time to discuss the trip tomorrow. Unless you have more, Sub-Tribune?” Gilda shook her head. “Then thank you for your report, Sub-Tribune,” Narada said. “Now, as both of you are aware, the humans are sending out small expeditionary teams around the Kingdom. Your concern is the group going to the Southern Farmlands, towards Tierra.” The Captain took out another scroll and unrolled it. “The humans have submitted the names of those in the said team. Three names, you are quite familiar with: McClain, Fields, and Lakan. Coming with them is a—” Narada blinked, her eyes roaming on the scroll “—ge-o-lo-gist?” “I think its pronounced geologist,” Strenus advised. “It’s someone that studies elements, I believe.” “Human terms,” Narada muttered under her breathe. “A geologist named Henderson, a bee-o-lo-gist named Brennan.” Narada looked at Strenus, who just kept quiet, though not quite hiding his grin. She said nothing. “And one of the Ambassador’s aide, a... Ra-leg?” “That’s pronounced as Raleigh,” Strenus advised. Narada didn’t even bother to correct herself anymore. “We also know that the humans will be sending teams each made up of fourteen soldiers to escort the civilians,” she continued.   “We’re sending our own escorts, aren’t we, sir?” Gilda asked. “Precisely,” Narada replied. “We cannot just allow them to travel uncontested in our Lands. Which brings me to your second assignment, Sub-Tribune.” “Yes sir?” “I need you to lead the Gryphon Escorts attached to the group going South,” Narada finished. Gilda’s eyes blinked before they widened when she fully understood the implications of what the Captain just said. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to smile or call for the Ancestors to dig a hole she could hide in.  Instead, she opted to take a breath and asked, “Sir, is that wise?” It was Strenus that replied. “It makes a lot of sense, Sub-Tribune. You’re still assigned to accompany the three humans, and with your rank, there’s no need to confuse the Gryphon Escorts by having redundant officers leading them.” “Sir, I’m aware that this Command Chain”—Gilda gently grabbed the chain around her neck—“was only given to me to help me with my assignment of guarding the three humans.” “It was also given to you as a test,” Narada reminded her. “To see if you have the potential to be an officer.” Gilda looked at the Captain. “All I’m saying, sir, is that I do not feel that I am ready to lead griffins, to be responsible for their lives.” “Sub-Tribune, I’m not ordering you to send them to war,” Narada replied. Gilda had a sneaking suspicion that the Captain was trying her hardest not to smile. “Consider this the first step into making you a proper officer. And we aren’t going to clip your wings and throw you down a cliff. We will provide you with a newly-appointed centurion to help you along.” Gilda nodded. What else could she say? “Thank you, sir.” “Then let us go over tomorrow’s trip.” By the time they were finished, it was lunch time. Both Gilda and Fortrakt saluted towards the Ambassador and the Captain before making their way out. Once they were a ways away, Gilda released a sharp huff. Fortrakt looked at her, amused. “Were you holding your breath or something?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you?” Gilda countered. After a moment, she sighed. “I did not expect the Ambassador. Or even this new assignment.” She felt for her chain. “Sometimes, I feel like I should have fought harder when they gave me this.” Fortrakt stayed silent for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if you ask me, the Chain fits you perfectly. You should act more of your age. Sit behind the frontlines, ordering younger griffins to do your work, talking to alien guests and all that.” Gilda grinned at the last part. “Is that your jealousy rearing its head again, Fortrakt?” “Stick yours in a cave,” was Fortrakt’s only reply. As they approached the battlement, Gilda couldn’t resist adding one more niggle. “One of these days, Fortrakt, you’re going to need a better insult than that.” Before he could reply, Gilda took off. It was a few moments later that Fortrakt joined in, a sour look on his face. The eagless just laughed as they descended to the third level and made their way towards Winged Hall Inn. They passed the guards and went straight towards the mess hall, where she hoped that lunch was still being served. It was. They even spotted Chris, Tara, and Marco, who were already finishing up their meals. “Hey, over here!” Tara, seeing them first, greeted with a smile. Chris and Marco turned around, and upon spotting them, grinned as well. “How was the meeting?” Chris asked. As both griffins approached the table, Fortrakt looked at Gilda for a moment. The eagless spared him a glance and shrugged her shoulders. “Boring,” Gilda replied, walking behind Chris and Marco, checking out what they were eating. She must be getting quite used to cooked food beucase it looked and smelled good. “She’s just being modest,” Fortrakt declared, earning a look from Gilda and the three humans. He motioned towards the former and said, “You are looking at the officer leading the Gryphon Escorts tomorrow.” Marco raised an inquiring eyebrow, Gilda gave him a steady look. “What?” she asked. “You, in charge of tomorrow’s escorts?” Marco asked. “Ancestors preserve us.” Fortrakt’s laugh came in sharp and loud, which Gilda was sure attracted the attention of a few humans. She felt her cheeks flush, and her beak opened to protest when she saw Marco sticking his tongue out to her. She replied by cuffing him behind his head with her wing, which earned chuckles from Chris and Tara. Even Marco looked a bit pleased with himself, grinning as he recovered. Gilda could only roll her eyes. “So, what’s for lunch?” Fortrakt asked. Chris, Tara, and Marco stayed with the two griffins as they ate, some asking Gilda in regards to the Southern Farmlands. She had advised them of much of what she knew, like how much higher the temperature was there compared to Arnau, more presence of Equestrian earth ponies, and did her best to describe the steadholts and all the crops they grew. The rest of the day was spent in Chris’s room, watching The Two Towers. If someone told Gilda that she could get tired by doing nothing but sit all day, she’d have told them to dunk their heads into ice water. However, there was something draining in watching a film for three hours. She almost couldn’t believe Marco when he told her the next one was the longest. Or that there were even longer versions of the films. She doubted she could sit through a movie that was longer than three hours. It wasn’t that the movie itself was boring, but the length made it quite exhausting. Judging by how Fortrakt was no longer snickering in regards to the humans riding horses—and there were a lot of those scenes—he was tired as well. Still, Gilda would never forget the final parts of the movie, where the humans were defending against impossible odds. It reminded her of the Blessed Arnau’s last stand. More so when the human mage came with reinforcements in the end, which reminded her of Fortis’s charge. By the time Gilda and Fortrakt finished their nightly flight, they were utterly worn out. She didn’t even bother hanging up her armor properly, and just placed them on a small stone table. She wanted nothing more than to just nod off until breakfast. She dreamt of the war with the Cloven of the Sun. Except that the griffins were riding Saddle Arabians to war. And Marco was leading them, sporting a full white beard while holding a white collapsible staff. When she woke up the next morning, refreshed, the first thing she did was laugh. And that laugh stayed with her during breakfast, earning her a few looks from everyone. Not fancying giving the Spear Centurion assigned to her a bad impression, she composed herself as she went towards the meeting place, which was just outside the Southern Gate. She could see a few air coaches already propped up and displayed, and a few armored griffins waiting at the ready. Amongst them, she spotted a familiar-looking griffin wearing a centurion helmet. He noticed her and immediately squawked an order that had the other griffins scrambling into formation. Much to her relief, the centurion was someone she recognized and respected. “You’re the newly-appointed Spear Centurion they assigned to me?” Gilda asked, smiling. Giraldi made sure the griffin soldiers were standing correctly before he gave her a small smile. “Yes. I reckon I made someone angry to get stuck with you, sir,” he replied softly, saluting and baring his neck. The griffins behind him did the same. Gilda returned the salute. Giraldi turned he gave them a nod before barking, “Stand by ready. We’re going to give the apes something to admire.” “Yes, sir,” they replied easily, and then broke formation, going on their own way but still standing nearby. “Not bad,” Gilda said, nodding. “Yeah, not bad for a bunch of hatchlings,” Giraldi muttered. “Only a few Talons are seasoned soldiers. The rest are fresh out of the Gauntlet.” “And who better to lead them then a newly-minted centurion and an unqualified sub-tribune," Gilda scoffed. "Glad to see the Command Chain hasn't improved your optimistic outlook," Giraldi said, chuckling. "Someone has to stay sane," Gilda replied. "Still, least we’ll have you, Giraldi. Its good to see you.” “Aye, you too, Behertz. I’d say how surprised I am to see you, but honestly, we both knew you would come back crawling to me for help.” “Hah. Alright centurion, what do we have?” Giraldi handed Gilda a scroll, which she promptly unrolled and read. The older tiercel began, “Well, as you can see, we’ve been assigned four air coaches, six-seaters. I know it doesn’t seem much, but one will fit eight humans comfortably. The advantage of walking in two legs, I suppose. As far as I know, the humans are sending six civilians and fourteen soldiers to the Farmlands.” “Marines,” Gilda interjected. “What was that, sir?” Gilda shook her head. “The human soldiers identify themselves as Marines, and prefer to be called that way.” Giraldi looked at her for a moment. She just shrugged. “Okay, fourteen Marines,” Giraldi conceded. “We’re not going to just let them show off, so I was able to scrounge quite a large amount of Knights and even a mage with us.” “Giraldi.” Giraldo paused for a moment and looked at Gilda, who was looking a bit perplexed. “Yes, Behertz?” Gilda pointed a symbol in the scroll with her beak. “What do the red dots mean?” “The red dots represent Rotation. For reference, it takes two rotations to season a soldier.” “Ah, okay. So, we have a lot of hatchling Wind Knights and a few seasoned Talons. Though... only three Fortus Knights?” “Yes,” Giraldi replied. “There isn’t much need for Fortus Knights as our travels will mostly be via air coaches, which all the Wind Knights will be used to fly. Now, in regards to the seating arrangements, I’ve taken the liberty of putting you and all the human civilians on the first coach.” Gilda shook her head. “No, I won’t need it. Put a Fortus Knight in my place.”  “Sir—” “I’m a sky-griffin,” the eagless interrupted. “I am not going to spend the trip inside an air coach when there’s plenty of space in the sky. Is that clear, centurion?” Giraldi just rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. Any other requests in seating arrangements?” Gilda thought about it for a moment. There were a few protocols she remembered, especially in regards to the presence of griffins in a coach, but there was still enough space to mix things around. In the end, she said, “Arrange it so that there’ll be equal amounts of griffin soldiers and Marines per coach. Get them comfortable with each other’s presence.” “Risky, but I can see the advantages of it,” Giraldi replied, nodding. “I’ll rearrange the seating arrangements to the new specifications. If that is all?” Gilda hesitated for a moment, then looked out towards the griffin soldiers. She faced the older tiercel. Her apprehension must have shown because Giraldi steady expression gave way to worry. “What is it, Behertz?” he asked. “Giraldi... am I ready for this?” The Centurion looked at the Sub-Tribune for a moment, a smile gracing his face. “You’ll never know until you try, sir. And this salted griffin can tell you, you’ll be fine.” He suddenly laughed. “Though don’t take that as Ancestor’s Word. I’ve been known to be wrong every once in awhile.” Gilda rolled her eyes. “Here’s to hoping that you didn’t make centurion by giving out advice.” Giraldi’s laughter exploded out. “You gotta start somewhere. And don’t worry. Its a simple assignment. Perfect for those young uppity griffins whose whole experience as an officer was hanging out with foreign guests.” He gave her a wink. “You’ll do fine.” Gilda gave him one last look before she nodded. “Thanks, Giraldi.” “No problem. So, when are the humans coming?” Before Gilda could reply, she heard a warning from one of the griffin soldiers. Checking the sky, she noticed a tiercel coming at them—it was Fortrakt. Landing just a few paces away, the young tiercel ran towards the group, and was about to say something when he saw the soldier griffins and Giraldi. He paused, then gave Gilda a sharp salute and bared his neck. “Sorry I’m late, sir,” Fortrakt declared professionally. “The human excursion group is on the way.” Giraldi nodded and looked towards the scattered group of griffin soldiers and shouted, “Formation! You too, Gletscher, get in line.” He shot Gilda a look. He approached the eagless and whispered, “And you, sir, ignore everything here and focus on facing the humans.” Gilda blinked. “What?” she whispered back. “Officers shouldn’t pay attention to soldiers doing their jobs. That’s mine. Yours is to lead them. And right now, they need to know that their commanding officer would gladly meet a foreign force head on, unflinchingly.” Giraldi gently nudged Gilda to look at the Southern Gate. “Here they come. Remember, strength and respect are languages understood by Enemies, Allies, and Subordinates. So give the hatchlings and the humans a good impression. That is a responsibility you hold as an officer of the Kingdom.” Gilda took a moment before she nodded. Standing readily facing the Marines approaching in a five-line formation, she rotated her shoulder a bit before she settled on a neutral face, her game face. The crowd of ponies and griffins behind the gate cleared out immediately, letting the group of humans pass unobstructed. The eagless let her sharp eagle-eyes focus on the Marines in front, not recognizing any of them. Maybe she was hanging out too often with Reyes, but she wished he was part of the group. As the humans got closer, the Marines began to split, revealing the civilians in the center. Marco and his friends were recognizable, dressed for the heat with short-sleeved shirts, shorts, and wearing large backpacks. The former even waved his arm in greeting, almost threatening to make Gilda smile. Almost. The other civilians she didn’t recognize. One was female and the other two were males. One wore round spectacles, and the other had a... rounder body. They too seemed ready for the heat, sporting bright colors. The spectacled male carried a small bag with one of his hands, while the female had a bag hanging from her shoulders. The rounder male wore a backpack. The Marines stopped in front of Gilda, each of them with an a neutral, if not very casual, expression. They all wore the same patterned brown uniforms, but additionally wore off-brown multi-pocketed vests on top of that. They also wore patterned helmets, each holding  black metal boxes that looked like cameras. Some Marines casually carried those black tubes, the three variations she was familiar with, though now she noticed one of them carrying another type of weapon that had small red tubes attached on its side. Before she could study that any further, the one in the center approached her. He was different from the rest. Instead of casual easiness, he carried an expression as if he was burdened with something heavy. He stared at Gilda for a moment, assessing her, and she made the show of doing the same. He was thinner than Reyes, less muscled, younger,  and paler. His cheeks were stark, showing sharp cheekbones, while his nose had a beak-like feature to it. While the helmet made all Marines look alike, it was his eyes that were the most prominent feature—orbs of pale golden brown that almost glowed. “Corporal Imlay,” he introduced himself. He offered his hand. “Warwolf-3 alpha Squad Leader.” “Sub-Tribune Behertz,” Gilda replied in Equestrian, grabbing his extended limb and shook it. “Commanding Officer, Gryphon Escort for the Southern Excursion Group.” “Pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am,” Imlay said, giving her a small smile. “Heard about you from Sergeant Reyes and Flip-Boy over there.” He pointed back towards Marco with his thumb without moving away to face her. He gave her claw one final firm shake. “Hope we can get along.” “Same here.” Gilda let go of his hand. “You know Sergeant Reyes?” “Spent two tours with him, one under him,” Imlay replied. “He’s quite the regular moto Marine.” Gilda blinked. Moto Marine? Mentally shaking her head, she just nodded, and motioned behind her. “My Spear Centurion, Giraldi, and I have planned the seating arrangements.” “Alright, I’ll have a look,” Imlay replied, then motioned the Marines with him to follow. Gilda stole one last glance at the humans as they passed by her, and focused on the approaching civilians, still flanked by a few Marines. The bespectacled male approached first. “James Raleigh,” he said, simply. He offered his hand. “I’m the ambassador’s aide and representative of our race on this trip. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” Gilda gave his hand a simple shake. The unknown female approached next. “Jennifer Henderson,” she introduced herself. “Resident Rock Rooter.” The rounder male approached. “She means  geologist,” he said, smiling as he offered a fist, which Gilda was happy to bump with her own. “Bradley Brennan. Biologist.” “He means Resident Evil Enthusiast,” Henderson added. “Zombies are real, and I can prove it,” Brennan replied with an easy smile, which Jennifer returned. Zombies? Before Gilda could say anything, Marco scrambled right in front of her, grabbing her claw, and shaking with with overt enthusiasm. One of her eyes got larger. She opened her beak, only for Marco to grin. “Hey, Hey, Marco Lakan. I’m the resident farmer. Nice to meet you! Say, you look familiar. Have me met from somewhere before?” Before Gilda could respond, Chris and Tara shoved Marco aside, laughing. “Dude, what the hell?” Chris asked. “Look, they were all shaking hands and shit, so I wanted to get into the action,” Marco replied. Gilda rolled her eyes as Tara said something about Marco being silly. Before she could comment, a griffin made his way to her side, saluting and baring his neck. She turned and saluted right back. “Yes, Talon?” she asked in Aeric. “Centurion Giraldi wishes to speak with you in regards to the seating arrangements,” the tiercel replied. Gilda hesitated before she nodded. Dismissing the Talon, she gave the civilians one last nod before she walked towards Giraldi, who was pointing towards the scroll, while Imlay shook his head, pointing towards some of the Marines behind him. “Problems, Centurion, Corporal?” Gilda asked, switching to Equestrian again, as she approached. Giraldi gave her an acknowledging nod and replied, also in Equestrian, “Corporal Imlay wants to modify the seating arrangements a bit, though I advised him that you have the final say.” “What do you have in mind, Corporal?” “We need a Marine to stay with the civilians in the first coach,” Imlay replied. Giraldi spoke next. “The problem is, as I’ve pointed out, that with their equipment and bags they have brought, we can’t fit anything else with all six civilians and a Fortus Knight in the coach.” “I suggested removing the Fortus Knight, as they are carrying a lot of the bulk, and thus giving us a lot of the space,” Imlay advised. “But Giraldi here said it was against protocol?” “He’s right,” Gilda replied. “Protocol for air coaches is to have one or two griffins inside as means of reinforcements. The Wind Knights carrying the coach are defenseless, and we’re already limited in numbers to assign armed escorts. Maybe you can put all your supplies in the fourth coach?” “No,” Imlay responded immediately. “You may get the civilians to agree with that, but no way we are leaving our supplies to someone else, ma’am.” “Do you have any suggestions, then?” Giraldi asked. “We’ll probably have to move a civilian or two,” Imlay replied. He placed a hand on his chin before he nodded. “I think we can get Mister Lakan to move into another coach. He isn’t quite... comfortable with Mister Raleigh.” Gilda looked at Giraldi for a moment, before she nodded. “If they agree, I’m sure we can arrange something.” “Alright, I’ll get things moving,” Imlay replied. Giving Giraldi and Gilda one last nod, he turned towards the Marines behind him. “Santos! Guerrero! Gather the civilians.” Gilda watched as the Marines just nodded and moved swiftly towards the other group of humans, communicating swiftly. She watched as Imlay began to relay the plan to the civilians, with some of them asking questions. She noticed Marco immediately raising his hand and moving towards the side, away from the rest. The biologist Brennan followed him soon afterwards. A moment after, Imlay looked at Gilda and gave her a nod. “Alright, Giraldi, let’s get everyone set up,” Gilda ordered, looking at the centurion. Giraldi saluted. “Yes, sir.” He turned towards the griffin soldiers and barked, “Time to go to work, Gryphons! Get your lazy rears up!” Everything moved quickly. With Giraldi’s reining the griffin soldiers, they were in position before she knew it. The Marines didn’t slow down either, which probably displayed Imlay’s leadership qualities; or maybe they were just very disciplined. Either way, she was glad both sides knew what they were doing. The civilians flocked towards first coach, flanked by a Fortus Knight and a Marine. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, appraising each other before nodding, almost in sync. She approached Chris and Tara, both talking to Marco. Judging by the way he was shaking his head, his friends must have offered to have him join them. When she was near enough, she overheard Chris ask Marco, “You sure you don’t want to join us?” The latter shook his head. “Nah, it won’t be like going to Arnau,” Marco replied. He spotted Gilda, and asked her, “The trip will be what, four hours tops?” “Depends on direction of wind and how strong it is,” Gilda replied. “But yes, we’ll be able to get to Tierra in less than four hours.” Marco gave Gilda a smile, and nodded towards Chris. “See, there you go. One nap, and we’re all there.” Chris, Tara, and Marco slapped their hands together—high-fives, if she remembered the term correctly. The three friends were all smiles as Chris and Tara began to board the first coach, the former giving one last nod towards Marco, who raised his hand in reply. Brennan and Henderson shared a fist bump before the latter entered the coach. “Okay, gentlemen, come with me,” Imlay said, leading the last two civilians to the second coach. A Marine and two griffins were already inside, settled in their positions. Brennan unhitched his backpack first before climbing inside. Marco was next. He too began to move his backpack when he hesitated for a moment, looking at the coach with a mix of fear and trepidation. “What’s wrong?” Gilda asked. Marco bit his lip for a moment before shaking his head. “Uh, okay, maybe now’s a bad time to say this, but I’m not comfortable flying in your air coaches.” Gilda blinked. “Are you afraid of heights? I thought you’d be used to it, with all the human airplanes and everything.” “Yes, well, an airplane has a lot going on for it, including safety records, reliable machines, and other stuff,” Marco countered. “An air coach is basically a flying box supported by four flying griffins that are quite affected by factors such as wind and stuff. Yes, I’m being silly here. I’m just... preparing, you know.”  Imlay rolled his eyes. “Come on, Flip-boy, get your brown ass in already.” “Hey, don’t nag. I’m trying to get to my happy place.” “Psh, happy place,” Imlay muttered. “Look, this thing crashing is no different from a humvee stepping on a mine and flipping it over. It is very easy to ensure maximum survivability.”   Marco looked at him. “Oh yeah? How?” “You curl up like a bitch,” Imlay replied, smiling. “You do know how to curl up like a bitch, don’t you?” Marco looked like he wanted to laugh, yet maintain a I-am-not-amused face. In the end, he broke down to a chuckle. “I’m a civilian, Corporal. Curling like a bitch is what we’re good at.” Imlay shook his head, amused. “Good, now stop whining and get on already.” As he began to get in, Gilda interjected, “Marco.” He paused then looked at her. “Yeah?” “You’ll be fine,” Gilda assured. The human looked at her for a moment before smiling. “Thanks, Gilda.” As she moved away, she could hear him continue to mutter, “Great, now everyone’s going to think I’m the biggest pussy here.” Imlay, climbing in next, responded good-naturedly, “I wouldn’t worry. You’re not hairy enough.” “Oh, ha-ha.” The last two coaches suffered no delays. The last one was probably loaded the fastest as it only contained four Marines, a Talon, and the Mage Knight. Giraldi gave the Wind Knights carrying the coaches one last check before he raised a claw, signalling that everything was good to go. Gilda raised her own, shaking a closed fist once to acknowledge that she understood, and did a slashing motion towards the south, indicating that they had her permission to start flying. “Well, that went well,” Fortrakt muttered as he settled beside Gilda, watching Giraldi shout the order before he entered the last coach. The Wind Knights slowly stretched their wings, flapping it slightly, each coach flyer synchronizing their movements as close as possible.   “Yeah, a fight didn’t break out yet,” Gilda replied with a slight chuckle. The wind began to pick up as the wing flaps grew steadily stronger and faster. In less than ten seconds, the first coach began to lift itself from the ground, followed by the second, then the third, and lastly, the fourth. Dust was kicked everywhere, and Gilda had to cover her eyes for a moment as the four Knights of the lead coach screeched and began to fly forward and upwards. Once the dust settled, Gilda and Fortrakt watched as the four coaches began to travel to the blue beyond, climbing slowly, steadily, so their passengers wouldn’t get jostled around by the rapid climb. Once the coaches reached a certain height, the tiercel looked at his superior and asked, “Shall we?” Gilda responded by stretching her wings and launching herself into the sky, with Fortrakt following closely. They easily reached the coaches and reduced their speed to join with them on the steady climb until all the griffins reached the optimum height for cruise travel. It had been a while since she was up this high, Gilda thought. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind course through her coat and feathers. She imagined Fortrakt and the rest of the Wind Knights were enjoying the sensation as well. There was nothing quite the feeling of flying so high up in the sky. All wings on the coaches stretched fully outwards, flapping only once or twice in steady rhythm. With clear skies, Gilda couldn’t see any problems that would delay them on their trip. She twirled in a spiral, tucking her wings for just a second to enjoy a small dip in height, something that was against protocol on cruise-height flights. She couldn’t help it though. Up there, she was free. The sun seemed to move at a rapid pace above them. With nothing but white clouds above and green and brown patches below, boredom quickly settled in. Fortrakt had already gone ahead, scouting for the convoy. A few Wind Knights also chatted amongst themselves, though they still maintained diligence; they cut through the sky with short, swift strokes, making good time as they travelled. Gilda too got tired of doing all the stunts she could remember from the  Junior Speedster Flight Camp back in Equestria. For a rare moment, she remembered Rainbow Dash and the end of their friendship, which she shook violently out of her head. You have a job to do, Gilda. Keep your head in the game, she thought. Trying to distract herself, she spotted Marco’s head rearing out of the small opening of the window the air coach had. Angling her wings, she lazily glided beside the coach, a trill escaping her beak to call on his attention. Once he spotted her, his hand poked out as he waved at her. “So, still nervous?” Gilda shouted through the blinding bellowing of the wind. “Not as much, though my stomach did do a bit of a tumble when we were climbing up,” Marco shouted back. “I gotta say, though, you guys are machines. We’ve been flying for almost two hours!” He looked down and back to her again. “When we were making our way to Arnau, the air coach took rests almost every half-hour.” The eagless nodded. “It was most likely because it was flying low, as to keep visual range with the ground coaches. That puts a strain on the sky-griffins pulling the air coach as it takes more maneuvering and effort to keep afloat. Do you remember that they used five sky-griffins to pull the coach going to Arnau?” Marco nodded. “Yeah, that was another thing I was wondering about. We only have four!” “Yes, well, at cruise-height—that is the height we’re in right now—the travel is much faster and easier. All the air coach pullers have to do is maintain height by doing just a few flaps. The rest of of the time, they just need to keep their wings open.” Marco chuckled. “Well, you learn something new everyday.” Before Gilda could reply, she heard a familiar screech. Eyes forward, her sharp eagle-eyes spotted Fortrakt flying back at her. “Sir!” Fortrakt called as he settled in beside her. “Hey Fortrakt,” Marco greeted. For a moment, the tiercel’s professional facade fell as he gave Marco a smile. “Hey.” He then looked at Gilda, his expression somber. “Sir, you’re not going to believe this. I’ve spotted dragons.” Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “Where?” “A few leagues ahead,” Fortrakt replied. “A migrating group?” Gilda muttered to herself. “No, it’s too early. Probably a lost group?” “Too small from what I’ve seen,” the tiercel advised. “Plus they were flying in spread-out pattern.” “How many dragons are we talking about here?” Gilda asked. “I saw three,” Fortrakt replied. “There could be more.” “If we maintain course, will we run into them?” The tiercel took a moment to think, then nodded. “I am sure we’d run into one.” “Alright, report this to Centurion Giraldi, and advise him that we’ll have to make a course correction.” Gilda looked at the ground. “Its a good time to take a rest anyway. We’ll land on a clearing below and—” Gilda stopped as she suddenly felt pricks of pins and needles travel all over her body. Judging by the way Fortrakt and the rest of the griffins stiffened, they felt it too. They just passed through a magical field—an active magical field. There was a flash of light. A crack and a roar exploded outwards, with the smell of burnt feathers hanging over the air. The wind whooshed everywhere, disturbing the airstreams that had Gilda almost stumbling over herself. She recovered quickly, only to discover the first coach was now falling out of the sky. It was partially on fire, scored with scorch marks all over the front. Up in the sky, she saw electrical lines beginning to form, building up to strike again. “Descend!” she ordered. The Wind Knights looked at her blankly. She barked, “Descend! Now!" Before anyone could say anything else, another bolt of lightning rained down upon them.