//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: Feathered Heart 
// by Demon Eyes Laharl 
//------------------------------//

“Fucking police call,” one of the Marines—Anderson, if Gilda remembered his name correctly—muttered as he walked back towards the gathered group of griffins and humans, carrying a cloth bag. 

“Well, you had to take potshots,” his Marine companion replied, his shoulders shrugging. He looked towards the gathered group. “Know what’s going on?” 

“Fuck if I know.” He looked at the sky. “Do you see that shit?” 

“Yeah. Fucking crows, man.” 

Gilda watched as they took their place nearby a group of Marines that were gathering around a rather surprised—though not displeased—Mage Knight who was looking a bit lost with the attention she was getting. 

“—and she fucking jumps in the air, and bats the damn lightning away!” one of the Marines that was standing declared, exaggeratedly slashing the air with his free arm. “Back to the caster too!” 

“Oh, it was nothing,” the mage muttered a little softly.

“Nothing shit, it was totally ninja,” another Marine replied, offering his fist. The Mage smiled a little wider as she bumped that with her own. 

“Totally fucking badass ninja,” another Marine added. 

The conversation faded as Gilda looked towards the sky, noticing the increasing number of crows that were gathering where the grass lions had been laid. She was actually expecting them to show up, just not this late, and half-wondered if that was an omen. 

“Sir!” 

Her train of thought was broken as she noticed an incoming party made of a few earth-griffins bringing one of the dead grass lions—the least rotten and the least smelly, she hoped—followed by Giraldi, who spoke out, and Imlay, who was frowning. Gilda’s eyes then went towards the dead grass lion, and for the first time, she could see the damage the Marines had wrought on it. She could see holes all over its neck and body, guessing the one in its eyelids was what finished it off. 

The presence of the corpse got the attention of a few Marines. Brennan even stood up to get a better look, though Marco seemed content to just stare neutrally. After a few minutes, Giraldi and Imlay finally appeared, the Corporal joining his fellow Marines while the Centurion joined her. 

“Sir,” Giraldi began, “Scouts are back.” 

Gilda nodded. “Anything new?” 

“Not much, thankfully,” Giraldi replied. “There is no additional movement in front of us or behind us, so I think we’re safe for now. However, the defensive field is still up. Killing the mage really didn’t do much to it, but our Mage Knight advised if no one else maintains the spell, it should vanish after today.” He paused. “I think it’s unlikely.” 

Gilda nodded. “You believe there are more Corrupted mages.” 

“Undoubtedly,” Giraldi replied. He looked at Imlay. “Sir, the Corporal has a little trouble believing what I told him about the Cloven. He might have a lot of questions.” 

“That is to be expected,” Gilda said, looking towards Imlay and giving him a nod, then walking towards the grass lion corpse. The Corporal’s lips thinned, and he ordered the rest of the Marines to come with him as he followed suit. Brennan and Marco joined as well.

Once they reached the corpse, he turned towards the rest of the humans. “Okay, listen up, boys and girls,” he began, “Sub-Tribune Behertz will be explaining who, or what, the hostiles are, so pay attention.” He turned to Gilda. “Ma’am.” 

Gilda took a breath. She looked at the gathered humans and said, “We believe whoever attacked us, whoever set up the field above us is an ancient enemy of the Gryphon Kingdom”—she spat out the last few words like a curse—“the Cloven of the Sun.”

There was a murmur amongst the humans while the Mage shivered at the name. Gilda gave them a few moments before clearing her throat. They immediately quieted down. She motioned towards the downed grass lion. 

“Notice anything in particular?” she asked. 

Brennan crouched, looking at the corpse, sniffed, then frowned. “That’s not right. This animal’s already… rotting.” He looked at Gilda. “Do these types of animals decompose quickly? 

Gilda shook her head. “No. It was dead already before it attacked us.” 

“Damn right it was,” a Marine muttered. 

Brennan frowned again as what Gilda said grabbed his attention. “What do you mean it was dead before attacking us?” 

“I think it’s better to show you,” Gilda replied, nodding towards Giraldi. The Centurion motioned towards the earth-griffin Talon, who unsheathed his sword and scalped the corpse with a rather sickening sound. 

“Hard-fucking-core,” one of the Marines muttered towards another.  

Gilda had to give the Talon some credit. It was an accurate scalping that removed the top-most of the skull. Once the Talon removed his sword, showing what was inside, Brennan quickly frowned and slowly backed away. “Wha… what the hell!?” 

Seeing it herself, Gilda felt a little sickened. Around the grass lion’s brain was the Parasite, a long thin black insect-like being with its spindly legs digging into the grayish matter.  

“What. The. Fuck?” Anderson whispered. 

“That is a Parasite,” Gilda advised. 

“Nydia,” Giraldi called. The Mage Knight nodded and stepped forward, her floating staff glowing. Light surrounded the parasite, which was then slowly tugged outwards, making a few sick noises. It wasn’t completely detached, its long legs still puncturing the grass lion’s brain, but it was more exposed for everyone to see.

“Oh, that’s not right,” Brennan muttered, looking a little green. 

Imlay blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “How long are its legs?” 

“Depends on how long it has infected its host,” Gilda replied. “Apparently, before it enters a body, it’s an ell long.” 

“Ell?” Imlay asked. 

“Sorry. As long as a half of my foreleg,” she clarified. “It enters its victims through either their mouth or nose, gnawing its way towards the head. Once it attaches itself to the brain, it grows until—” Gilda nodded towards the mage.

Nydia closed her eyes. With effort, she produced a small spark of electricity that made the floating Parasite twitch a few of its legs. The Marines immediately pointed their tubes towards the grass lion corpse as its hind leg began to move. 

“Fascinating,” Brennan muttered. “And disgusting. Here I thought bot-flies were bad enough.” He looked at Gilda. “So, that’s what the Cloven are? Mind-controlling parasites?” 

“No,” she replied, frowning. “The Parasite is just one part of a larger group.” She took a breath. “A very large group.” 

“Who are they?” Imlay asked. 

“We don’t know much about them,” Gilda replied. “Probably because the first and last time they appeared was a little more than a thousand years ago, back when the griffins were separated and led by the four Tribal Leaders we called ‘Blessed’.

“They came like a bolt in the night, silent, fast, and deadly.” Gilda pointed towards the Parasite. “They started using Parasites first to infect griffins of power, maybe even the Tribal leaders themselves, creating distrust and chaos amongst the followers. It wasn’t until our Primo Basileus Fortis realized something was amiss and warned the other Blessed.” 

“Primo Basil-what?” Brennan asked. 

“Basileus,” Marco replied. Gilda blinked, realizing this was the first time she’d heard him speak for a long while. “It means First King, I think.” He looked at Gilda. “If I remember correctly, you told Tara and… Chris that he was the one that united the griffin tribes after defeating the enemy. This Cloven… was that the enemy you were talking about?” 

Gilda nodded. 

“This enemy doesn’t seem too hard to detect, though,” Brennan said, hand on his chin. “These Parasites obviously aren’t going to stay hidden for long if they can’t stop the body from rotting. Plus you griffins look plenty strong and have a good handle on weapons. A hit in the head is all that it takes, right?” 

The eagless shook her head. “If Parasites were the only thing to worry about, I’d agree. Like I said, they are only one part of a much larger group. 

“When King Fortis had spread the word, the Cloven stopped using subterfuge and began to amass a force that attacked all the Four Territories. They established small bases that could produce hundreds of soldiers at a time.” 

One of the Marines whistled. “Well, fuck.” 

Imlay didn’t seem perturbed. In fact, his face took an even more neutral. “How?” 

Gilda sighed. “We don’t know. From what we gathered, they give birth fast and grow quickly. Give them a few days, they can overrun the fields, marching steadily until reaching their destination.” 

“What do the soldiers look like?” one of the Marines asked. 

“Big insects,” Gilda replied. “That is probably the closest description I can give you. History records the Cloven Soldiers changing after every battle. 

“When they first attacked, they looked like giant black-shelled hornets. Then, they slowly started resembling griffins. They began to walk on all fours, develop larger claws, and unnaturally sharpened beaks. During the last battles, they even started differentiating their fliers and their ground troops.” 

“How so?” Brennan asked. 

“Flyers had two spikes for forelegs, wings sharp enough to cut, and a barbed tail,” Gilda replied. “Ground troops didn’t even have wings anymore, replacing them with two sharp spikes, like the flyers, which they could manipulate. However, that was not the reason why they were hard to fight off.” 

Imlay and the rest of the Marines seemed to approach closer. “How did they fight?” the Corporal asked. 

“They were unemotional and merciless,” Gilda replied. “It gave them unparalleled discipline and unmatched morale. They march over their wounded, crushing them mercilessly as they chase after you. While they break down your barriers, they also climb over your walls, using their own bodies to build bridges or ladders if they have to.” 

“Sounds like Army Ants,” Brennan muttered, a little awed. 

One Marine scoffed. “If they sound like Marine Ants, then you got me shaking in my boots.” 

“Quiet,” Imlay declared, shutting him up. The Corporal then looked at Gilda. “So, what you are saying is that we can potentially have an army of this Cloven marching to us as we speak?”  

“Possibly,” Gilda replied. “However, our scouts are reporting no movement. I don’t know how long that’ll last, but at least we have time until all—most of the wounded recover,” she corrected herself.

Marco frowned, his eyes going towards the ground. He mumbled, “Excuse me,” before going away. 

Imlay and a few Marines watched the brown-skinned human move towards the camp where the wounded had been lain, then back to Gilda again. 

“Any way to stop them? Any weaknesses?” Imlay asked. 

“Their strength is also their weakness,” Gilda replied. “What gives them the unnatural discipline is the one giving them directions—Cloven Overlords. Apparently, they were very different from the soldiers, bigger. They also have some sort of magical capabilities of expressing thoughts outwards. That was the theory on why they can control the Cloven soldiers. Kill them, and the rest become nothing more than a disorganized mob.” 

“Great,” Anderson said. “Giant insects, and a telepathic bug boss—and we’re the Mobile Infantry.” 

“Yeah, except this is more fantasy shit with zombie kitties,” Stavrou added. He looked at Imlay. “Maybe you should change your name to Rico, Corporal.” 

“Fuck that, Flip-boy is an actual Filipino. We should call him Rico,” another Marine replied. 

“I’d lose my shit if he shouts that fucking line.” 

The rest of the Marines laughed. Even Imlay broke into a small smile. Gilda and the rest of the griffins looked at each other for a moment, confused. She was sure she’d get the reference if she asked Marco, but right now, she was a bit impressed how unimpressed they all sounded, until she noticed their eyes taking on a harder edge. The laughter faded as Marines seemed to mutter amongst themselves, some even patting the bulging pockets of their vests. 

Imlay looked at Gilda. “Anything else, ma’am?” When Gilda shook her head, he turned back towards the Marines and said, “Okay, boys and girls, you all know what to do.” 

“Fucking A,” a Marine muttered as the rest began to scatter. Imlay himself was about to join them when Gilda stepped forward. 

“Corporal, can we talk to you?” 

Imlay looked at Gilda. “What is it, ma’am?” 

The eagless paused for a moment, trying to form the right words in her mind. After a few seconds, she took a breath and said, “Corporal, considering we are possibly about to face off against very strong enemies, I think it is time that we are made aware of your fighting capabilities.” 

Imlay frowned. “What do you want to know?” 

Giraldi stepped forward. “We’d like to know your preference on formations,” he began. “Where and how do you usually position your troops, that way we wouldn’t accidentally bump into each other.” 

Imlay nodded. “I think we can make arrangements on that.” 

“We also need to know more about your weapons and—”

“No,” Imlay said. 

Giraldi frowned. “No?” he asked. 

Imlay shook his head regretfully, frowning. “I’m sorry, but I am under orders not to divulge any sensitive information about any human weaponry.” 

“Under orders?” Gilda frowned. “From who?” 

“People with higher pay grade than mine,” Imlay replied with a shrug. He was already half-turning when Gilda called him to stop. 

“Hold on,” the eagless said. “We don’t need specifics. We just need enough information to see how we’d adjust our formation to fight alongside together.” 

Imlay frowned again. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he repeated, then began to speak a bit more slowly. “Military personnel are not allowed to divulge any information, unless ordered otherwise by the right authority.” 

Gilda blinked. Was Imlay reciting orders given to him? And why the emphasis? “Who would be the right authority in this case?” she asked. 

“That would be Mr. Raleigh,” he replied. “Who is still unconscious, I believe?” 

Gilda looked at Giraldi, who nodded. She sighed. “And if he’s not available, who is the next one we can turn to?” 

“My Commanding Officer,” Imlay answered. “Who is in Arnau. And I would love to get him at the comms and see if we can get that changed if it wasn’t for the fact that the lightning bolt that the mage unleashed earlier had screwed any chances of getting a clear signal.” 

Giraldi muttered something under his breathe, and Gilda couldn’t blame him. “Then it is left to you to decide on this, then Corporal.” 

“On anything else, I would have been more forthcoming,” Imlay replied. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t just concern us, but with my government’s agreement with Equestria.” 

Gilda frowned. What did Equestria have to do with this? “The circumstances are a bit extreme though,” she reasoned. “Surely, you can make exceptions?” 

“Ma’am, I wish I could,” Imlay said. Again, he spoke the next few words slowly. “Military personnel are not allowed to divulge any information about human weaponry unless ordered—”

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Giraldi cut Imlay off, but the Marine continued unabated. 

“—otherwise by the right authority.” Imlay’s eyes shifted slightly, which got Gilda’s attention. He motioned towards his side. It took a moment for her to realize what he was pointing out. 

She sighed. “Thank you, Corporal.” 

“For what, ma’am?” Imlay replied, walking away even before Gilda could reply. 

Giraldi looked a little lost. “What was that about?” he asked. 

“A loophole,” Gilda replied. She nodded. “Talk to Imlay, and see if you can get any information about how they fight, see if we can combine their formation with ours or just make a way we don’t accidentally cross claws. And don’t ask him about human weapons. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Giraldi looked at her for a moment before giving her a sharp salute and baring his neck, then walking away, barking orders to the nearby Talons to dispose of the corpse. As Gilda was about to leave, she spotted the Mage Knight looking at her and Giraldi. 

Giving her a nod, Gilda said, “Good job on defending our allies.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Nydia muttered, a little shyly. 

“Get some rest,” Gilda ordered. “We’re going to move soon.” 

The Mage Knight nodded and looked towards where the Marines had left, then shook her head. She muttered something Gilda couldn’t quite hear before turning towards a quiet corner and meditating, her glowing staff floating above her. 

Nodding one last time to Giraldi, Gilda made her way towards the injured camp, passing a few patrolling griffins with a human counterpart coming along with them. A few of them greeted her as she made her way towards the downed coach. 

The grass around the area was either cut or stomped flat to make beddings for the injured humans. She also spotted a few griffins, probably having sustained injuries while fighting with the Corrupted Knights. While not serious enough to warrant bothering the Mage Knight, it seemed that the Marine, Doc, was doing a fine job of patching them up. They chatted amongst themselves like nothing was wrong. 

Gilda spotted Marco sitting between the prone Tara and Chris, the former now awake and patting the brown-skinned human on the knee. As she approached, she caught a bit of their conversation. 

“—ould have made you guys take the Second coach,” Marco whispered. “Should have bitten the bullet and sat with Raleigh.” 

“Marco, I swear to God, if you don’t get off the emo-train, I’m going to slap you real hard,” Tara replied,her exasperation pretty strong considering that the last time Gilda saw her she was unconscious. “You didn’t know. Just like the time you flirted with me. Remember that?” 

Marco smiled a bit. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” 

“Of course not,” Tara replied easily. “Got the video uploaded to YouTube and everything.” 

Marco chuckled for a while before immediately frowning. His hand found hers, and squeezed it bit as he looked towards Chris. 

“He’ll be fine,” Tara declared. “Remember what you told me? That they can heal his broken spine?” 

“Yeah, that Mage—what was her name?” Marco looked down for a moment. “Nydia, I think. Yeah. Anyway, she told me all they need is more mages and some potions. Basically, we need to get back to Arnau before they can work on Chris.” 

“She’s right,” Gilda interjected, getting both human’s attention. Tara gave her a big smile. 

“Hey!” she greeted. 

“Am I interrupting?” Gilda asked. Both humans looked at each other, with Marco turning away first to look at Chris, while Tara shook her head. 

“No, no! Not at all. Come join us!” 

Gilda nodded and settled down a little bit in front of Marco, who gave her a small smile of greeting before turning back to his friend. Tara meanwhile offered a weak fist which the eagless bumped gently. 

“How are you holding up?” Gilda asked. 

“Okay,” Tara replied. “A little sore everywhere, but I guess I’m one of the few lucky ones. You missed Fortrakt, by the way.” 

“He was here earlier?” Gilda asked. 

“Yeah. He said about joining the scouts now that the sky-griffin numbers went down by six.” Tara frowned. “I’m sorry about them.” 

Gilda nodded. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t be. They did their jobs and made their Ancestors proud.” 

Tara just nodded, didn’t say anything for a moment before looking to Chris. “He’ll be okay right? Magic and everything?” 

Gilda nodded. 

“Cool,” Tara muttered.  

“I hope it works,” Marco whispered. He looked at Gilda. “I mean, how are we sure it’ll work with humans? We’re not the same species.” 

“I’m not exactly an expert,” Gilda replied, “but I do know the spell hasn’t changed much since it was first used. And it has worked with every species we met so far.” She paused for a moment, a thought forming in her mind. “In fact, we use almost the same spell as the Equestrians, something we found curious when we first met them. I’m quite confident that we’ll be able to help Chris.”    

Marco nodded, his stance finally relaxing. His smile widened a bit more as he nodded repeatedly. He looked at Chris a bit longer before a thought hit him. 

“Not that I don’t want you here, Gilda,” he began, “but what are you doing here? Taking a break?” 

Gilda shook her head. “I need your help on something.” 

Marco blinked. “Uh… sure. I have no idea what I can help you with, though.” 

The eagless looked around for a moment, then leaned a little closer. “We need information about the human weapons.” 

Tara frowned. “Uh… can’t the Marines give you that info?” 

“No,” Marco replied, shaking his head. “I think the Marines were ordered to keep quiet about guns and other weapons.” 

“Guns?” Gilda asked. 

“That’s the general name of the weapons they use,” Marco replied. “Well, we use,” he corrected. 

Gilda looked at him thoughtfully, remembering the conversation she overheard of him and Reyes. “You use guns too?” 

“Yeah,” Tara replied. “Both Chris and Marco here spend at least a weekend a month at the shooting range back on Earth.” She rolled her eyes. “Boys.” 

“Hey, I join your bar scenes at times,” Marco teased. “It’s not my fault I steal all the ladies from you.” 

Tara snorted, then groaned in pain as she grabbed her stomach. “Oh, damn it, Marco. Don’t make me laugh.”

Gilda cleared her throat before the two could go off in a tangent again. “Um, Marco? About guns?” 

Marco nodded. “Yeah, sorry. What did you want to know about them?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Tara interjected. 

“What?” Marco asked. 

“Are we allowed to even talk about it?” Tara asked. “I mean, if the Marines can’t, then how can we? You’re in enough trouble as it is.” 

The eagless frowned, remembering that particular conversation with Fortrakt, realizing what she was asking him to do. She was about to tell him to forget that she asked when a voice surprised all of them. 

“Strictly speaking, no one ordered us to keep quiet about our weapons,” Chris said weakly. 

“Chris!” Marco almost shouted as he leaned towards his fallen friend, grabbing his shoulder. “Hold on, I’m getting Doc. Don’t move, alright?” 

“With a broken spine, I don’t think I’m going to go anywhere,” Chris replied with a stiff smile. “Oh, for God’s sake, stop the waterworks. You’re making it gayer than it looks.” 

“F—screw you,” Marco replied, voice hesitating slightly as he wiped his eyes with a free hand, smiling through his pained expression. 

“You know?” Tara asked slowly. 

“Drifted in and out of consciousness, really,” Chris replied with a sigh. “Heard Marco shout, heard that I have a busted back. Honestly, thought it was a dream… until I couldn’t feel my legs.” 

“You’ll be okay,” Marco declared strongly. He tightened his grip on Chris’s shoulders. “They said they can fix your spine.” 

“Yeah, heard that part too,” Chris said softly. “Otherwise, I think you’d be looking at a blubbering version of myself who’d be more than happy to dispense waterworks.” He sniffed. “Hell, I think I might still do that.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Marco muttered. “You’ll be fine.” 

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Chris,” Tara whispered, her voice breaking a bit as tears flowed freely from her face. 

Gilda watched with fascination and trepidation, witnessing the three friends comfort each other. She felt a bit like an intruder, even if she had come to look at Chris as something a bit more than an associate. Reyes once said the three had a history, and it was now showing in droves. Part of her wanted to sneak away, while another part of her was remembering her own loss back in Equestria. 

Before she got any farther with her thoughts, she heard approaching footsteps, and spotted Doc. Once he was nearby, he saw Chris awake and knelt beside him, asking questions. 

After answering two, Chris looked at his friend. “Marco,” he began, “go with Gilda. If anyone raises a stink, tell them to go to me.” 

Marco looked at him for a moment before giving a solemn nod. He gave his shoulder one last squeeze, doing the same with Tara’s hand before he stood up. Gilda, too, went on all fours before the two strolled out of the area, with him grabbing his backpack, before both went towards a somewhat secluded spot. 

“I’m glad Chris is awake,” Gilda started, “though I guess I wish it could have been at better circumstances.” 

“Chris is stronger than he looks,” Marco replied a little stiffly. “He’ll be fine.” 

Gilda nodded. “I believe you. Besides, he’s being looked at by that Marine.”

Marco stopped and looked at her. “What Marine?” 

“Uh, Doc,” Gilda replied. 

“Doc’s not a Marine.” 

The eagless blinked. “Huh? Really?” 

“Yeah,” Marco nodded, continuing forward. The two finally reached their destination, and he began to look for a place to sit down. “Doc’s from the Navy, lent to the Marines.” He looked around. “Okay, this looks like a relatively isolated spot. So, what do you need to know?” 

Gilda had wanted to know more about the human armed forces but realized she could ask that later. Shaking her head, she replied, “Honestly, just combat-related things. Hey, over here,” she added, pointing towards a small boulder just a few lengths away. The two walked a bit more, and Marco settled on the stone, while Gilda just sat on her haunches. 

“Okay, like what exactly?” Marco asked. “I know how a gun works, mostly. I can tell you some statistics like penetrating power and effective range.” 

“Let’s start with that,” Gilda offered. “I mean, I know that those black tubes aren’t melee weapons as we had initially thought, so I’d rather know a bit more about it so we can plan our formations correctly.” 

Marco gave her a lopsided smile. “Melee weapons? Really?” 

“We didn’t see arrows,” Gilda pointed. 

“True,” Marco conceded. He opened his mouth, but immediately frowned. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

He sighed as a reply. “Okay, I know, technically, I’m not bound to not say anything, but I don’t want to get Chris in trouble. Not after what just happened to him.” 

Gilda nodded. “You can remain silent, Marco. I’m not going to take it badly.” 

Marco sighed again. “If anyone asks, tell them I told you, and it was my decision alone,” he said. His face hardened. “Nothing goes to Chris.” 

“Like I’d let you take the blame,” Gilda said with a snort. “I can always tell them that I theorized everything by everything I’ve seen today.” 

He blinked. “Really?” 

“Honestly, all I need to know is their effective range, maybe even some limitations,” Gilda replied. “I can say I got that from observation, which is true. Granted, more than what I currently saw, but still technically true.” She paused. “Though, a little more information would be nice.” 

Marco chuckled. “Why? I thought you just needed range and stuff.” 

“Because I’ve never seen or heard any kind of weapon in Tellus that would come close to describing what the Marines are holding right now,” Gilda replied. She shivered as she remembered the acrid burning smell of the air, the deafening sound of thunderous crackle, and the falling of the many grass lions coming at them. “It is…” she trailed off. 

“Impressive?” Marco supplied. “Amazing? Stupendous?” 

“Terrifying,” Gilda finished with a soft whisper. 

“I guess it can be,” Marco said, nodding. “The gun itself is a relatively new weapon. Or at least, the concept is.” 

 Gilda leaned a little closer. “How new?” 

“First known evidence of a gun was around one thousand years ago.”

Gilda blinked. “One thousand years ago? Relatively new?” 

“Considering we’ve been using swords, knives, bows and arrows, and other non-gunpowder weapons for thousands of years, I’d say, yeah, its relatively new,” Marco replied. 

A question of how old the human civilization came to her mind, but she put that away for another time. “Gunpowder?” she asked. “What’s that?”

“What do you know of explosive powder?” he asked back. 

Gilda frowned. “Minotaurs use them to make fireworks. Expensive stuff, though, considering its only used for making bursts of light, which we could do with magic. Plus a little unstable. There were stories of fires created by the stuff. And as expensive as a firegem is, I’d rather prefer something stable to make fire.” 

“Okay, basically, that’s how guns work. Hold on.” Marco rummaged through his bag, and for some reason, Gilda felt a small stirring of magic emanating from it. Before she could ask what it was, he offered his open hand to her, and resting in his palm was a small metallic cylinder with a  domed tip. 
 
“What’s that?” Gilda asked, giving it a cautious look.

“That is a bullet,” Marco explained. “A gun is basically a tool that launches a projectile”—he shook his hand—“in this case, the bullet, towards an intended target.” 

The eagless gave Marco a look. “That small thing? Even if I put that in a crossbow, it doesn’t look like it’ll damage an armored griffin. Its not even sharpened!” 

Marco grinned. “Well, when it travels faster than the speed of sound, it doesn’t need to be sharp.” 

Gilda blinked. “Wait… faster than the speed of sound?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I forgot the exact number, so I don’t know if I can really give you the right impression about it.” 

“I’m aware of the speed of sound,” Gilda said. 

That got Marco to look at her. “Really?” 

“I had a friend back in Equestria,” Gilda began, looking away. “She trained hard so she could do a… well, to fly as fast as that.” 

“Really? Wow,” Marco replied. “Did she succeed?” 

“Yes she did.” Gilda sighed. 

The human frowned. “Is… this a bad topic?” 

She sighed again. “A little bit.” She shook her head. “Sorry. So, this thing can travel faster than the speed of sound? How?” 

“Well, inside the bullet is a bit of that explosive powder. The gun ignites that powder, which causes a small controlled explosion that sends this”—he pointed towards the domed part of the bullet—”flying outwards.” 

Gilda frowned. “You are telling me that you use explosions to throw a small piece of metal outwards faster than the speed of sound?” 

“Yup,” Marco replied, nodding. 

The eagless shook her head. “That’s…”

“Cool?” he suggested. “Awesome?” 

“Insane.” 

That had Marco laughing. “Well, I guess it can be a little insane. But then again, humans invented stuff that people thought were crazy or impossible until we got it working.” 

She could only frown at that, but realized it wasn’t important right now. “Okay, so these tubes, these guns the Marines are holding, work like that?” 

“Yeah,” Marco said. “The Marines have rifles, which use a different kind of bullet that travels faster than this one. And the rifles can shoot them out repeatedly without pause. ” 

“How far do the bullets reach?” 

“Uh, well, technically they can reach three kilometers, but no one can accurately shoot that far,” he replied. “I say, around half a kilometer when trying to hit a single target. A little further if they just want to cover the area.” 

Gilda frowned. “What’s a kilometer?” 

Marco frowned as well, and began to look around. “Hmm, let’s see… see those trees there?” he asked, pointing towards a woodland area to her left. 

Gilda’s eyes easily saw the woode, and she ascertained it was a little less than a twentieth of a league out. “Yes.” 

“That’s around a kilometer,” Marco said. “Well, more or less. So, yeah, half the distance, and you get the rifle’s effective range for a single target.”

One of Gilda’s eyes widened. Their crossbows could travel a tenth of that length, if the griffin was in a stable firing position. But that distance? 

“Of course, most of the time, they’d just engage in fifty meters or so,” Marco added. “I think because they are usually on the move. And that’s only the standard issue rifles the Marines are given. I’m pretty sure there’s a M40 or Mark 12 somewhere, considering Imlay’s a designated marksman.” 

“What are those?” 

“The designated marksmen? Or the M40 and Mark 12?” 

“I’m guessing that a designated marksman is someone who can shoot far?” Gilda guessed. 

“Hah, yeah,” Marco replied. “The M40 and Mark 12 are long range rifles. Those are designed to hit the half a kilometer mark, even longer. Heck, we have people called snipers, that can hit that treeline and beyond.” 

“I… see,” Gilda muttered, getting a little lost. She shook her head, trying to remember what she needed to know. “How many of those bullets can they fire?” 

“Well, for the rifles they are carrying, thirty per magazine. Depending on how many they have, then that’s really up to mathematics.” 

“Magazines?” Gilda asked. What did reading material have to do with their weapons?

“Black rectangular pieces you see underneath the rifles.” 

Gilda nodded. She remembered those. “Okay, so how powerful is it exactly? These bullets?” 

“That really depends on what kind of bullets,” Marco said. “For the rifles the Marines are using, they can penetrate more than a quarter of an inch of steel.” 

“Quarter?” 

“One fourth,” Marco replied. 

Gilda nodded. “And just to clarify, how long is a human inch?” 

Marco made a length between his thumb and finger, a little longer than a griffin inch, which had Gilda swallowing. She didn’t know how different human steel was compared to griffin steel, but if it was the same, then those bullets could penetrate armor without problem. Ancestors, they would have gotten through shields as well. 

“Then there’s also the other weapons they brought,” Marco continued. “I think I heard an explosion earlier?” 

Gilda remembered and nodded. “Was that also a bullet?” 

“Well, no. That’s a grenade,” he replied. “Remember when I said bullets use small explosions to launch a bullet out? Grenades are basically devices that causes a large explosion near the target.” 

Insane. That was the only thought she could come up with. Still, she shoved that aside for now. Talking with Marco proved to be very fruitful. Giving him a small smile, she said, “Thanks, Marco. I needed that. Maybe now we can find a formation that won’t have Marines shooting us by accident.” 

Marco nodded. “No problem. I don’t know if you guys can find a formation that will work with both of you, but I’m not exactly a soldier or Marine.” 

“We’ll work that one out,” Gilda replied, standing on all fours again. Marco also stood from his position and walked to her. Once he was near, Gilda offered a fist, which Marco gladly bumped with his own. As the two walked back towards the camp, another question popped to her head. “Marco?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Imlay said that they were under orders not to reveal any information in regards to human weaponry,” Gilda said. “He also said it was because of an agreement that your government made to Equestria.” 

“I’m guessing you want to know more about that,” Marco said. 

Gilda nodded. 

“Well, not much to say really,” Marco began. “Since the Portal is in Equestria, a lot of what goes in and out is in the Equestrian Government’s hands. Or hooves, in this case. First thing they barred from entering through the portal was human weaponry.”

“Guns and the like?” she asked. 

“Eh, more than that,” Marco replied. “Guns aren’t really the only weapons we use. We have a bit more… advanced weaponry.” 

Gilda glanced at Marco. If it was any indication, what the Marines brought here were already quite advanced. She couldn’t imagine what their newer weapons were like. 

Marco continued, unaware of her thoughts. “Anyway, when this expedition was first proposed, the US Government had to deal extensively with the Equestrian Council to get quite a lot of Marines and their weapons through.” 

Gilda scoffed. “The negotiations must have taken a while then.”

Marco grinned. “Yeah. Actually, it came to the point that they weren’t going anywhere until Princess Celestia intervened. She proposed an agreement that both parties agreed on.”  

“Which is?” 

“Marine personnel can only bring weapons they can personally carry,” Marco replied. His smile widened. “Marines took that literally, and brought quite an assortment.” He paused. “And I guess the Equestrian Government added that talking about guns is a no-no. Something about how it would disrupt the delicate balance and some other stuff. Honestly, though, I doubt they could really tell us what or what not to say. If we kept silent, it was because of our own volition.”

Gilda looked at him. “What do you mean?” 

Marco pondered for a moment before nodding. “Okay, let’s say you meet a new species or new civilization.” 

She wondered where this was going. “Okay…?” 

“And they don’t have crossbows,” he continued. “You aren’t too sure whether they will be your allies or not. They live pretty far away, and you’re sending a few civilians in to negotiate and a few armed soldiers as escort. If asked, would you even talk about your crossbows in detail?” 

Gilda shook her head. “Maybe not until I’ve confirmed that we’re going to be allies.” 

“Well, that’s what we have here, really,” Marco said. “Except the humans are the ones with the crossbow.” He paused and made a face. “Well, you know what I mean.” 

Gilda just nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean.” The two remained silent as they continued to walk back to the camp, Gilda’s thoughts in a little turmoil.

Out of all the races in Tellus, Gryphons were known to have the most advanced weaponry. They may not have had as many magic users as Equestrian Ponies, or expansive Alchemic studies like the Free Zebra Nations, or even the advanced machines like the Minotaurs, but when it came down to weapon development, they were the most reliable and innovative. 

To be told that they may be thousands of years behind was a bitter pill to swallow. In fact, she wasn’t too sure she had swallowed it yet. 

“Sorry,” Marco whispered. 

Gilda blinked and looked at him. “For what?” 

“For being the one to change your world,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “You kinda looked a little lost, so I’m assuming you’re trying to come to terms of everything I’ve told you.” 

The eagless nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s a little hard to take.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much,” Marco said, smiling. “Once the idea settles in, I’m pretty sure it’ll be just a normal day for the griffins. Except now they have a few new ideas to experiment with. Just”—he chuckled—“try not to blow yourselves up.” 

Chuckling as well, Gilda shook her head with a small smile. Then again, another thought entered her mind. “So, Marco, by the fact that you told me about guns and all, does that mean you trust us griffins? Do you see us as allies?” 

Marco looked at her for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t know about the griffins as a whole, but I know you and Fortrakt. I trust you. Both of you.” 

Gilda looked at him. “Thanks, Marco.”  

He replied by bumping his hips on hers, surprising her so much she walked a few steps away, looking at him with a confused expression. Marco just grinned and he stuck his tongue out to her, which had her narrowing her eyes. She waited for the moment he turned around before she pounced at him. 

It wasn’t a good pounce, judging by how he heard her approach and scrambled out of the way. The next few moments were nothing but laughter and running, with Gilda trying to find a way to get to Marco, who was running left and right. She finally caught him when a Marine shouted, “Hey, Rico!” 

“Who—ouch! Hey!” Marco giggled as Gilda bumped him roughly enough to get him to stumble. She hit him gently in the head with her wing when he was trying to balance himself. 

The eagless found herself smiling. “You deserved that,” she said. 

“Did not!” 

“Hey Rico!” the Marine called again, approaching. He was round faced with a lighter brown skin than Marco. Gilda remembered him from before the trip. “As much as you like to mingle with the locals, Corporal Imlay needs the Sub-Tribune.” 

“Oh, shut up, Guerrero,” Marco replied. “And seriously... Rico?” 

Gilda ignored Marco’s question. “Why does the Corporal need me?” she asked. 

“Comms are back online,” Guerrero replied. “Ma’am… you may want to hear it.” 

Gilda looked at Marco, who gave her a nod. “Go.” 

Nodding, she rushed back towards the camp. She spotted Imlay, Giraldi, and that Marine with that radio backpack, and around them were a few agitated looking griffins and Marines. The Centurion and Corporal were frowning. As she approached, Imlay, motioned his hands to come quickly. 

“Warwolf-3 to Warwolf Actual, I have the Sub-Tribune with me, over,” Imlay declared towards a green box that was on the make-shift table. To her surprise, after some crackling, she could hear a clear voice coming out of it. 

“Copy that, Warwolf-3,” the voice from the box declared. 

There was a slight crackle before, to her amazement, Captain Narada’s voice came forth. “Hello? Sub-Tribune, can you hear me?” Then, softer, “Is that close enough?” 

“Yes, just talk normally,” came an even softer reply. 

Imlay gave Gilda a nod. She took a breath. “Yes, Captain,” she said. “I’m here. I don’t know if you were informed, but we have just been attacked by Cloven.” 

“I am aware of the situation, Sub-tribune,” Narada replied. “In fact, the whole Kingdom knows. We have reports of attacks coming from the West, East, and North. The bulk of the attack, it seems, is coming from the West.” 

“West? But the Cloven were originally from the South,” Gilda muttered. 

“That’s not the only concern,” Narada continued. “It seems they have brought a variety of Corrupted with them. We received reports of Corrupted dragons, Corrupted diamond dogs, and Corrupted elder rams as well.” 

Gilda shivered. The elder rams were another race that gave the griffins a challenge as well. However, before she could get completely lost in that train of thought, Imlay pointed towards the injured. She gave him a nod. 

“Sir, we have injured civilians, one needing intensive healing,” Gilda said. “Requesting permission to return to Arnau.” 

“I don’t know if I can give you permission, Sub-Tribune,” Narada said. “The Cloven have brought a lot of flyers between towns. They are forcing us to use the roads. Some reported seeing defensive spells that shoot out bolts of lightning.” 

Gilda nodded. “Yes, we’ve hit one of those.” 

“If you try to come back to Arnau by air, you’ll get slaughtered,” Narada said. “And we’re not quite sure how secure the roads are yet.” 

“Any suggestions then, sir?” 

“I spoke with your Spear Centurion earlier, and he said that you were around ten leagues north-west of Tierra?” 

Giraldi immediately flattened the map in the makeshift table, which had a charcoal-marked area in the South. Checking it for a moment, calculating the distance of their travel in her head, she nodded once more. “Yes, sir,” she replied. 

“There should be a garrison town of Aricia nearby,” Narada advised. “Bring the wounded there, and assist the Tribune of the garrison in mounting a defense. We will work on getting reinforcements to your location as soon as we can.” 

“Yes, sir,” Gilda replied. 

Imlay scooted closer. “Warwolf-3 to Warwolf Actual, over.” 

“Lieutenant?” 

There was a small crackle once more before another voice, the one that first spoke, came in. “This is Warwolf Actual. Send traffic, over.” 

“Roger. Requesting change in rules of engagement,” Imlay said, “in regards to advisement of weapon capabilities. Over.”

There was a pause before the voice came back. “Change approved, Warwolf-3. You are permitted to advise of only combat-related capabilities of our weapons, over.” 

“Interrogative: what do you mean only combat-related capabilities, over?” 

“No details of how it works. That’s all. Out.” 

Imlay nodded towards the Marine with the backpack, who immediately stepped away. The Corporal looked at Gilda for a moment, nodding. “Any questions in regards to human weapons, we can provide information only on combat effectiveness. Though I’m guessing at this point”—he looked towards the injured camp—“it’s moot.”

“Maybe not,” Gilda replied. “At this point, I can only go by my observation. Having more confirmation ensures that we’re taking the right steps in our planning.” 

“I understand, ma’am,” Imlay replied with a nod, and walked away. 

“What was that about?” Giraldi asked. 

“Not much,” Gilda replied. “I have some information about the weapons they use, but it’s a little unbelievable. You may have a hard time trying to find a way to mesh how we can both fight together.” 

“A solution always presents itself to those that look hard enough,” Giraldi advised. 

“I hope so,” Gilda said. She looked towards the map, taking a deep breath. “You heard the Captain. We need to plot a course to Aricia.”