Myths and Birthrights
By Tundara
Book One: Awakening and Arrivals
Chapter Five: The Morning After
The first thing Twilight became aware of was the headache. It was larger than the entire Canterlot Royal Archives and the Manehattan Regional Library combined. Groaning about insects scuttling between the floorboards, Twilight rolled off her bed and onto an equally pained Luna. The princess let out a thousand year old oath as Twilight fell on her, reaching for Spike’s basket, which she’d been using as a pillow, and scrunching her eyes tight to ward off the rays of light poking through the curtains.
“P-princess Luna?” Twilight stuttered, her thoughts too muddled with pain, sleep, and the last lingering traces of the most potent wine in all of creation. “What... How... Where did,” Twilight’s voice hitched as a particularly strong throb of pain struck and Twilight found her stomach making an unpleasant series of twists and knots.
Holding back a cry, Twilight turned and dashed into the bathroom and proceeded to empty what little contents her stomach held into the waiting toilet. Twilight hovered over the porcelain seat for what felt like hours, sparkling mane streaming into her eyes and a dull wet sheen of sweat making her coat itch and prickle. When her insides finally stopped rebelling, Twilight shuffled into the shower and washed away the feeling of dirt and shame.
As she recovered in the shower, her mind wandered back to the previous day and evening. It all seemed like a dream. She wouldn’t have believed that any of the events had happened, if not for the wings. The corner of Twilight’s face twitched with annoyance as a wing lashed out and knocked all her shampoos and conditioners off a ledge.
It would take some time to get used to having two new appendages. Understanding she had much to learn didn’t stop Twilight from groaning every time a wing did something she didn’t intend. At least her magic hadn’t changed, except for the depth of her pool.
“Huh?” Twilight muttered, her eyes closed as she lathered her mane.
Being able to sense and inspect their magic pool was crucial and second nature to most magical creatures, doubly so for unicorns. The most basic lessons taught in magical kindergarten were how to visualize the magic pool and avoid magical exhaustion. Twilight had the habit of checking her reserves every time she closed her eyes. With the headache and the few fragments of memory floating up in her thoughts, Twilight at first thought she was suffering from magical exhaustion and expected her magic pool to be depleted. Instead, she couldn’t even see a bottom to her pool.
No, Twilight corrected, it wasn’t that her pool had no bottom; rather it connected to other pools through spidery threads. Along the threads Twilight could feel the ebb and flow of magic as it ran both to and from her pool. Biting on her lower lip, Twilight took one of the thickest threads and began to follow it. Lights began to spring up from a backdrop of endless black. Through both sets of vision, gazing on her pool, and her new Alicorn senses, Twilight could see the threads connecting to the stars.
Mistress, you’re back, came the jubilant call of many thousands of voices.
Twilight flicked an ear and ‘looked’, her eyes still closed to avoid getting shampoo in them, towards the source of the voices. High above Twilight could sense the stars watching her. The sensation made her skin crawl a little.
“Gah, do you girls have no sense of privacy?” Twilight snapped, her eyes opening. “Ow!” Twilight slammed her eyes closed against the stinging lather.
We were worried, admitted Polaris. We knew you arrived there just fine, but got concerned you might overshoot your return.
You mean ‘you’, Hun, laughed Brachium, You should have seen Polaris, Mistress. She was all, ‘Oh dear and woe is us, we gone and done it now. She ain’t our mistress more than five minutes and we be catapulting her across time.’
Twilight could see through her closed eyes, the roof of her home, and blue morning sky, Polaris take on a deep pink blush.
I said nothing like that. Polaris pouted, the star wriggling back and forth a little like a foal with her hoof caught in the cookie jar.
Uh-huh, no, you were far worse. I thought we’d have to get Sirius to calm you down, honey, ‘scept she’s off Selene knows where.
Twilight ears perked up, flicking a little spray of water.
“What do you mean? Sirius is missing?” The first hint of panic was already creeping into her voice. Only one thought circulated in her head, ‘I’ve already lost one of the stars, and she’s the brightest star of them all! I am the worst Alicorn ever.’
You’re not the worst alicorn ever. Regulus scoffed. That honour goes to Luna.
“What do you mean?” Twilight asked, applying her conditioners. “Sure, when she was the Nightmare, she—”
Hun, I’m going to have to stop you before you defend her. Brachium shook from side to side, dimming a little in anger. Nightmare Moon was twisted, evil, and a sadistic tyrant. If you knew what she did to us, to you, to our missing sisters, you would not defend her.
Gulping, Twilight asked, “She was that bad? I know Celestia white-washed history concerning Luna...” Twilight’s voice trailed off, uncertain where to carry the train of thought.
She didn’t want to defend the Nightmare’s actions, but at the same time, Luna wasn’t that mare anymore. Luna was trying to repent and make amends. Twilight was also keenly aware that she didn’t know all the facts surrounding the War of the Sun and Moon. Very few books recorded the events of the war, and those that did almost all existed in private collections belonging to the ancient Houses. Of those, many had been lost, destroyed, or decayed away, their precious knowledge lost to the ages. Unless Celestia or Luna told her, Twilight wasn’t certain she’d ever know the events of the war.
It is probably best that it remain history, Polaris said, her voice filled with uncertainty and apprehension. Luna isn’t the Nightmare, anymore, as you point out, mistress, and she’s still the Shepherd of the Night. She’s also your friend.
The other stars grumbled at Polaris’ assertion.
A sharp knock on the door, followed by Luna’s voice, brought Twilight back down to Equestria with a whump, landing in a soggy mess in the bottom of the shower.
“Twilight, are you alright in there? I heard you talking to somepony.”
“Um, yeah,” Twilight called through the door as she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel with her magic. “I was just speaking with a few of the stars.”
Luna was silent for a few moments, then asked carefully, “They were still awake?”
“Yes?” Twilight hesitantly replied, then turned her attention back to the stars, “You were awake, right?”
Some of us were awake, waiting for your return. Polaris hedged, the slight hitch to her voice telling Twilight the star was leaving something out. But, no, most of us were already asleep.
And quite soundly at that, might I add, snorted Regulus, the star gaining a chorus of agreement and support from her sisters. If there is nothing more, I would love to get some sleep. Sol can get rather cranky, especially with the stunt we pulled yesterday. Best to let her calm down some.
“Twilight?”
“Um, yes, sorry, I’ll be right out,” Twilight called, wrapping her mane and tail and hanging the remaining towels to dry.
Talking to the stars, her stars, Twilight smiled at the idea. She wasn’t so sure how it worked. Each was clearly an individual, with her own thoughts and motives, yet tied to her. Twilight would ask Luna and Celestia about it when she got a chance. They were both tied to the moon and sun respectively; maybe they could give her some more guidance. Luna had given her a little bit, then the whole Wish thing had happened and... Twilight knitted her brows together trying to think about the previous evening as she swung the door open.
Calling it a fuzzy blur was an understatement. She could clearly remember hearing Celestia’s voice echoing among the stars, then a rush followed by a fall, waking in a tent, and then... the most wonderful taste. But events quickly grew disheveled and confused. For instance, Twilight kept thinking that Celestia had spent the evening talking in middle equestrian, which was foolish. Luna had spoken in middle equestrian for a while after her return, but three years of speech therapy and living among modern ponies had softened her archaic vocabulary and syntax.
Twilight came out of her thought as she looked on the Princess of the Night. Luna had a thin smile touching her lips, like she knew something that Twilight didn’t. Which was more than true, Twilight internally grumbled. Luna was the better part of eighteen hundred years old, counting her exile, and knew many things Twilight could barely begin to comprehend.
What really bothered Twilight was how spry and refreshed Luna looked. Twilight could swear that Luna had been there with that wonderful, wonderful drink. She had no right to look so pleasant when Twilight felt like another anvil had just landed on her head.
Twilight opened her mouth to say as much, then snapped it shut before asking instead, “Luna, I don’t understand. If I am the Stars, then why are each also individuals?”
“Didn’t we explain this last night?” Luna tilted her head to one said, a perplexed frown on her face for a moment before it was broken by a light laugh. “No, I believe we were well into the third bottle of Moonshine Wine by that point.
"Think of yourself not so much ‘the Stars’ themselves, but rather as their caretaker. They are part of you yes, and you them, but you are also separate as well. Sol and Selene existed long before either Celestia or I, but both said they felt completed and whole after our births. I don’t think there is a good way to explain it, but it is something that I am sure you can already feel on an instinctual level.”
Twilight thought over Luna’s explanation, and knew it was right. It’d be nearly impossible to explain to the girls, it needed to be experienced. ‘Maybe this is what a Hydra feels like,’ Twilight thought with a slight chuckle, ‘a Hydra with over six thousand heads.’ Except, Twilight was in charge and responsible for the stars, while each head of a Hydra was theoretically equal. No pony was certain, though as studying Hydras wasn’t something any pony had thought to do in a long time. The last pony to try didn’t survive long enough to share her findings.
Pushing the thoughts back to be analyzed later, Twilight followed Luna out into the library’s main room. There they found over a dozen ponies strewn about in sleeping bags or on couches and cushions in various states of sleep. A couple blinked open sleep encrusted eyes, while others, namely Pinkie Pie, lay on their backs, legs splayed and snoring softly.
“Twilight, you’re awake,” Cadence stated with a smile from where she lay, a wing wrapped around small, sleeping bundle, then to Luna she added in a cooler tone, “Good morning, mother.”
“Morning, heart of my night,” Luna responded, the hopeful saprano of her voice cut down to a hurt tenor as Cadence gave her head a sharp shake and disapproving not-glare to Luna.
The tension between the two princesses hung like clinging mist in the air, making Twilight shift uncomfortably. Cadence had been a constant in her life, almost like a fifth mother, and Twilight knew her to have a gentle, forgiving spirit. What had happened to prevent both the stars and Cadence from forgiving Luna? The question made Twilight ponder what other events or ponies had been deliberately hidden or altered by Celestia and Cadence.
Clearing her throat, Luna brought Twilight out of her thoughts, asking, “Who do you have there?”
Twilight was startled to see and feel the glowing energy beside Cadence, a presence similar to the princesses, but somehow unrefined or undirected. Hunting and seeking a purpose it knew was almost within its grasp but would slip through its hooves if it tried to grab a hold. Gingerly, Cadence withdrew her wing, and Twilight got her first look at Tyr. Twilight’s mouth fell open, and if it had been possible—or if she was Pinkie—it would have hit the floor and bounced beneath a bookshelf.
“So, they are fillies?” Luna asked, her relieved voice making other ponies stir. “Or is it just this one? I do not feel the presence of the other two, so?”
“Auntie Tia has gone back to Canterlot to see if she can locate the others, and that shade that attacked the two of you,” Cadence said, her wing again covering Tyr.
“’Others’? Who or what are you talking about?” Twilight tried to keep her voice down, but still managed to disturb Fluttershy and Applejack.
“Whatever y’all are jabbering about, could you keep it down? Some ponies are trying to sleep.” Applejack rolled over as she grumbled, throwing a hoof over Fluttershy’s withers before pulling the startled Pegasus close like a stuffed toy. Fluttershy gave a little whimper, but didn’t struggle against Applejack. After a couple moments, Applejack’s head shot up, “Hey, wait, yer back?”
Twilight quickly found a pair of powerful legs wrapped around her neck.
“Landsakes, where’d you two go off to? Pinkie and Cadence told us about that smoke-thing, and how Peewee saved y’all, then Celestia said you had to go somewhere or some such.” Applejack gave Twilight a single tight squeeze, before pushing the alicorn back a little to get a good look at her. “Wow Twi,” Applejack breathed, her eyes fixated on Twilight’s mane, occasionally flickering to Twilight’s new wings. “I don’t think I really believed it till now. You really are an Alicorn and Princess.”
Before Twilight could fully form a response, the most obvious being, ‘Yes, now please let me have some space,’ Twilight felt three more bodies wrap themselves around her as excited voices began demanding answers or just babbling. Loudest of the four was Pinkie Pie.
“Oh, wowie! This is so neat. I knew it was going to be neat, but this is like super-duper-extra neat-o-rific! Ooo, your mane is so sparkly. Twilight Sparkle with the sparkling mane, Heh-heh-heh.” Pinkie’s voice dropped in pitch as the party pony dunked her head into Twilight’s mane. “This is like swimming in spearmint!” Pinkie giggled, pulling her head from Twilight’s mane.
Cheeks burning a deep red, Twilight tried to calm her friends while fighting for breath. She wondered for a moment if it was possible for an alicorn to suffocate. It certainly must be possible. She had flesh and bones, had to sleep still, and all the rest, so she certainly needed to breathe.
“Girls, um, girls, I think you’re crushing her,” Fluttershy murmured, poking both Applejack and Pinkie on the flank in an attempt to gain their attention.
Sighing, Luna’s horn lit with magic, the four mares that had piled atop Twilight lifting up in a soft silvery-blue glow. Eyes spinning, Twilight choked out a brief ‘thank you’, before climbing back to her hooves and giving each of her friends a more sedate hug. With all the commotion, everypony had woken, and Twilight found herself in her brother’s hooves, then her father's, and then she was in front of Velvet.
“Mother,” Twilight said stiffly. Thoughts drifting back to the hazy events of the previous night—or the night a thousand years ago depending one’s point of view—and watching Celestia and Luna make amends, Twilight felt much of the sharp anger burning in her breast fade a little. She was still hurt, but her body didn’t tense and she managed to lean forward and give Velvet an awkward embrace. Twilight didn’t know if things could go back to the way they had been, but she knew better than to hold onto that anger and pain.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you the things you wish to know,” Velvet whispered as she gently stroked Twilight’s mane in the same manner she had when Twilight had been a filly and crawled into Velvet’s bed after a bad dream.
“It’s okay, I think I understand,” Twilight responded, tears pooling in her eyes but not running down her cheeks. “I mean, a geas is a pretty extreme measure, and I think I am madder that I can’t really be mad because of it.”
For a few moments, Velvet’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping on a dock. Giving up on trying to word what she wanted to say, Velvet gave Twilight another hug, then said, “I never wanted to see you hurt, my little star. Though, I guess you aren’t just my little star now, are you?”
“Well, from what I gather I’m not really—“
“Yeah, yeah, mystical alicorn stuff,” Dash interrupted, waving a dismissive hoof before jabbing Twilight in the chest. “Okay, spread ‘em. I want to see what we’re going to be working with.”
Twilight blinked a couple times, and thought she did rather well when she came out with the very intelligent response, “Huh?”
“Your wings. As your best friend I claim rights and dibsies on teaching you how to fly.” Dash puffed out her chest, then a momentary look of worry crossed her face. “You didn’t get magical knowledge of how to fly, did you?”
“I... uh, I’m not sure?” Twilight offered, rubbing the back of her head while she looked to Cadence and Luna.
“Don’t look at me,” Cadence said with a half-grin, “I was raised as a Pegasus. Even then I was being tutored in the other races magic, even if I couldn’t use them yet.” Cadence followed this statement with a dark glare at Luna.
Blushing furiously, though it was hard to see with her dark coat, Luna said, “I wasn’t exactly in what one could call a good frame of mind at the time. To answer your question; no, you don’t gain sudden magical knowledge of all your magic. Much like I’ve been teaching you how to access and use your Alicorn Awareness, you’ll have to learn how to use Earth and Pegasi magic. You’ve progressed remarkably fast so far. I never expected you to answer a Wish on your first night and take us back in time a thousand years. That was a pleasant surprise.”
“Wait,” Spike piped up from where he and the Cutie Mark Crusaders sat. “You went back in time a thousand years?”
There was a general murmur of surprise and confusion from the gathered ponies, and a few awed gasps from the younger ponies. It was Twilight’s turn to blush as she grumbled, “I wasn’t trying to answer it or anything. I just heard it, got curious, and one thing lead to another.”
“You can answer Wishes?” three, far too innocent, voices asked as one.
Twilight’s eyes grew wide as the three crusaders appeared directly in front of her, grinning with the broadest smiles imaginable. Pinkie Pie would have had difficulty wearing a smile like the ones the crusaders sent up at Twilight. And the eyes! They were like six obsidian orbs that pleaded directly to Twilight’s heart without the need of sound. Twilight felt a stab of absolute wretchedness, and she had yet to crush their young hope.
Thankfully, she was saved having to be the one to destroy the crusaders’ unspoken idea by Luna.
“I’m afraid Wishes don’t work in the way you believe. You’d have to wish upon a falling star. Then your need or desire would have to be strong enough that the other stars could hear it. And then a star, or stars, would have to take it and hold onto your wish until they shared it with Twilight. I only ever granted four wishes during the many centuries that I watched over the stars.”
Twilight took back her silent thanks to Luna a moment later as the full weight and guilt of the crusaders’ crushed ideas crashed into her.
“You mean you can’t grant us our wish to have our cutie marks?” Sweetie Belle sniffled.
‘Those three should be classified as non-lethal weapons,’ Twilight thought to herself as she prepared to support Luna.
Again, she was saved by a timely intervention.
“Now, girls, what have Applejack and I told you time and time again?” Rarity gave her sister a long disapproving glower.
“We’ll get our marks eventually, we just have to be patient,” the three intoned together.
“That’s right. Ain’t nothing that can make a cutie mark come before its time.”
“Besides, trying to force a wish can be very dangerous.” Luna said, her tone terse and grave. “I did so once, and only once. The results were corrupted and twisted.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, forcing wishes are bad.” Dash interjected, rolling a hoof in a ‘let’s get this going’ motion, “Now, Twilight, can you please spread your wings?”
“Alright, fine, if it makes you happy, Dash.”
It took Twilight several attempts to figure out how to move the new muscles. Her wings kept twitching or shooting out only to flump onto the floor. Scrunching her eyes shut, Twilight finally heard the gathered ponies gasp as she flared her new wings. Twilight herself didn’t dare look, too afraid that if she did she’d lose control again. Similarly, it took her a few false attempts to close them again.
“Okay, yeah, that’s a lot of wing to work with,” Dash said, her eyes already going distant as dreams and images of racing one of her best friends danced in her head.
“’A lot to work with’? Dash, those wings are simply, and you will all have to forgive me here, but they are divine. Why, the way they flow, and the shading of the tips…” It was Rarity’s turn to descend into her imagination as dresses, fabrics, and colour schemes began to take shape.
“So, does this mean you’re a princess now, Twilight?” Apple Bloom asked, her question sending a stab of panic deep into Twilight’s already anxious chest.
“Why would she want to be a princess? She’s a Goddess.” Tyr’s small head poked out from beneath Cadence’s wing, a perplexed look pinching her brows.
“That is precisely why it is better to be a princess.” Cadence chuckled. “Even as a Princess, ponies will pray to you. In the last few minutes I’ve heard almost a dozen prayers in my name asking for blessings in a pony’s love life. Imagine how many more that would be if I was the Goddess Cadence, rather than just Princess Cadence.”
“Wait, are you saying every time we say your name you can hear us?” Comet Chaser asked, looking a little green as his mind invariably went back to every time he’d used one of the princesses names, some in rather compromising situations.
“Not precisely. And not just hear, but also see. It has to be a prayer, though. You can say our names until you’re blue in the face and it won’t do anything.”
“Twilight, did you know about this?” Rarity asked, a tremor of concern in her voice.
“Well, yeah,” Twilight blinked a few times, taken aback by the frightened and scandalized looks all her friends and father were giving her. “It was one of my first lessons with Celestia, I, uh, had a habit of praying while studying.” Her cheeks burning hot enough that water would vanish on contact, Twilight quickly said, “Celestia taught me to only pray if I was in trouble.”
“It was the same when I used to foalsit you,” Cadence said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “It was so cute and distracting the way you scrunched up your face as you prayed.”
Applejack and the other Elements of Harmony all shared a series of giggles as Twilight’s face burned a deep maroon. Giving an exasperated snort, Twilight tried to think of a new way to explain it to her friends. Rainbow Dash waved her off, the pegasus giving a little chuckle.
“I think we all get it that if we ‘pray’ to you, you’ll be able to spy and eavesdrop on us.”
“Oh my, and if everypony always thought of you as a Goddess, and they could get your attention with prayers... How does Celestia manage with so many ponies praying to her every day?” Fluttershy gave a sympathetic shiver as she thought about hearing the voices of hundreds or thousands of ponies all the time.
Luna gave a light chuckle. “You learn to tune it out and listen for the important voices, like Twilight’s or those of the Elements of Harmony.”
A little perturbed that her question about Twilight being a princess still hadn’t really been answered, Apple Bloom repeated it.
“Well, that is… complicated,” Cadence laughed, her clear voice making the assembled ponies smile as a wave of warmth washed over them. Shining slid a little closer to his wife, gently nuzzling her while Comet threw a leg around Velvet and pulled her tight against his chest. “Auntie and I have been putting a little presentation together. A ceremony to introduce Equestria, as well as the rest of the disc, to Twilight. But, as for her being a princess? Until yesterday, we thought she must be, but now…” Cadence sighed, glancing towards Tyr.
“Huh?” Apple Bloom tilted her head, confusion dancing across her amber eyes. “I thought all the alicorns were princesses.”
“Not… exactly,” Twilight gave a patient smile. “Until Tyr, all the known alicorns were part of Equestria’s royal family. I am not… Am I?”
The question was directed at Luna and Cadence, to which Luna, after a very slight hesitation, said, “It is... possible, though unlikely.
“Tia hopes you are a daughter of the Namegiver, and our sister, and though that would be wonderful, I have my doubts. Nopony has even seen her since Equestria was formed.” Luna grumbled, snapping her tail in annoyance as she added, “She is very good at hiding.”
No sooner had Luna spoken, then Twilight’s gramophone began playing a bouncy, snappy tune.
Pinkie, her eyes shining and her back hooves already moving to the beat, yelled, “This party’s already late enough, let’s get dancing,” before grabbing Shining, and spinning the stallion into the Charleston Trot.
“Hey, that’s my husband,” Cadence said, feigning anger as she bumped Pinkie aside. “Find your own partner.”
Twilight didn’t have time to blink before Pinkie replied, “Okie doke,” took Rarity by the hoof, and pulled the yelping unicorn into the middle of the library. Within moments everypony had joined in, forgetting the somber mood in favour of the long overdue celebration.
The filly danced and ran between Gilda's legs, a constant stream of laughter and giggles trailing in her wake.
"What about Blue Skies?" Blinka asked, her voice tight and strained as she leaned against her cousin for support. "Is your name Blue Skies?"
"Nuh uh," the filly called back as she dove after a butterfly flitting from flower to flower. "Not ma name too."
"You do have a name, don't you?" Gilda barked. She'd grown tired after hours of treading across the dusty Zebrican plains. Ever since the filly had woken up it had been a constant guessing game about her name. Everything from Sunny Skies to Dew Drops and Buck Finley had been tossed at the filly, and each time the response was the same.
"Nope!" the blue terror responded as she started to chase a meerkat and warthog that had been silently watching the trio pass. After a few moments she turned around, and, with her head held proudly in the air, cantered back to the two griffons. "No name. Mama said I have no name."
"What kind of a mother doesn't name her foal? I thought all ponies went to those Temple of Names for some sort of ceremony thing to learn their foals names." Gilda stared down at the filly as she began to skip and run on the spot.
"I dun know why. Just no name."
"Well, that can't fly," Blinka said giving a little laugh that turned into a hacking cough.
Gilda winced at the wet sound and the slight red spackle on her cousin's beak. Blinka had been slowly but steadily getting weaker. The crash had to have caused some internal wounds, but the younger griffon was too proud or stupid to tell Gilda what. Every time Gilda asked the answer was the same, that she was to flap off and mind her own health or watch the filly. From where the two griffons touched Gilda could feel her cousin shiver, despite the oppressive sun beating down on them.
"Let's rest here for a bit," Gilda muttered, helping Blinka to lay down in the shade of a Mopane tree.
Far off in the distance a hazy rise could be seen, the first indication from the ground of Mount Kiligriffjaro and Southstone Spires. Gilda had flown up a couple times the previous day to sight the solitary mountain and make sure they were still heading towards it and not walking in circles. At times Gilda swore she could see the sun glinting off the copper domed roofs.
"Come here, little one," Blinka said when she'd been settled. The young griffon could hardly hold up her head, yet she still gave the filly a wide smile. "You need a name, don't you?"
"I guess," the filly responded curling up next to Blinka.
"Well, you're going to be a warrior, right?"
"Yup! Like you and Gilly!" Jumping back up the filly began running in tight circles making 'whooshing' and roaring noises.
"Yes, like me and... and Gilly."
Gilda shot her cousin a glare at the use of the silly nickname.
"So, you need something strong... strong and fast," Blinka wheezed. "How about Zephrous?"
"Nuh uh." The filly violently shook her head.
"What about Sirius, for the star of battle?"
Snorting, Gilda teased, "May as well call her Gal—"
"Don't even finish that sentence, cousin," Blinka scowled, then returned her attention to the filly.
She sat there, calmly watching the two griffons, her head a little askance and her eyes wide with innocence.
"I got it, Talona. It means 'Avenger of the Skies' in old griffese."
The filly seemed to consider the name, then she smiled and nodded vigorously.
"Right Talona it is. I'm glad that's finally over," Gilda huffed as she laid down beside Blinka and slowly closed her eyes. Her eyes had only been closed a few minutes when something small and warm began to wriggle it's way in between the griffons. Sighing a little in frustration, Gilda made a small space for the newly named filly.
Sleep, if it came at all, didn't last long before Gilda was jerked awake by the sounds of heavy bodies landing. In an instant she was on her paws and alert, eyes darting to find threats and claws ready to end any she found. Around the tree, dozens of other griffons were landing, and many more filled the sky overhead. Gilda silently cursed herself for a fool. Of course other survivors of the battle would make their way back to the aerie. She was surprised that they hadn't been overtaken by the army's remnants earlier.
Every griffon showed signs of injury and fatigue, wrapped in blood soaked bandages. Very few showed minor wounds, much like the scrapes and bruises Gilda had acquired. Almost none were completely unharmed.
A griffon in the gold trimmed armour of an officer landed next to the tree, making Gilda snap upright and to attention. Quickly, she stepped to the side to hide Talona from view. She didn't know what the other griffons would do, precisely, but she was sure that, unless she entered the aerie with Talona, the glory would be stripped from her.
"Well, well, well, what have we here? A pair of deserters?"
Gilda's blood ran cold at the officer’s tone and words. If they were believed to be deserters, which Gilda didn't think they were, then losing the glory of discovering Talona would be the least of her worries.
"No sir, not deserters. We were making our way back to the aerie with..." Gilda's voice trailed off as she realised her mistake too late.
"With? With what, precisely? Speak."
The officer snarled, his beak pulled back in a grimace while his claws teased the ground. Knowing there was no way to avoid Talona being discovered. At the very least the filly would be found when a medic went to check on Blinka, who was still asleep. Resigned, Gilda stepped aside and gestured towards the small blue bundle of fur and feathers.
"A pegasus?" the officer sneered. "I hardly think bringing back one little meal is worthy of deserting your flock mates."
"Not a meal, you featherbrain," Gilda snapped, the fatigue and aches in her body making her already short temper razor thin. "Take a look," she added as she swept aside Talona's mane to reveal the filly's horn.
"By the first egg," the officer breathed, his eyes wide as saucers and beak falling open. "You, get the general this instant. She'll want to see this," the officer said to a nearby griffon, and then to Gilda added, "This better not be a trick to save your neck."
Gilda just smirked as they waited for the general to land.
In a flurry of dust and feathers, the large older griffon in charge of the army landed with a thud. A bandage covered half her face and a chunk of her beak was missing. Her one good eye drilled into the assembled griffons as she stalked forward, ignoring both Gilda and the officer as they tried to speak and claim finding the filly. With a sweep of her claws the general got a good look at both Talona's horn and her wings. Clicking her tongue, the general looked towards Blinka, then called over her shoulder for a medic.
"You, soldier, where and how did you find this pony?" the general asked as a medic hurried forward with a medicine pouch to examine Blinka.
Standing at attention as she'd been trained, Gilda recited her name, number, and rank, again as she'd been trained, before explaining how the filly had been inside the fireball that had devastated both armies. The general listened impassively to the explanation, asking for clarification of a few points.
"You did good soldier. You are one of the few survivors from the vanguard, and that alone makes you worthy of praise, whether it was luck or skill that guided your wings." To the medic, the general then asked, "What of her?"
"She is slowly dying, general. We could save her, but her wing has already begun to set. She won't fly again."
"A pity," the general murmured, her voice heavy and her head hanging low. "Make her comfortable then return her to the earth."
"What?" Gilda snapped, her training breaking and her head swinging from the general to the medic, and the long ceremonial knife the medic pulled from his medicine pouch.
"No," she screamed, her voice waking Talona as she hurled herself towards the medic.
At the last moment the medic turned, Gilda's talons skipping off his beak before she bodily struck him. There was a flash of pain in her side followed by a heavy pressure entering the left side of her chest. Gasping, Gilda fell backwards crimson spraying from her beak. Turning her head slightly she saw a red pool begin to spread beneath her as well as the general's saddened look. Rolling her head back towards Blinka, Gilda called out to her cousin. She closed her eyes to avoid watching, but she couldn't avoid hearing Talona's shrieks of fear and calling for Gilda and Blinka.
"General? Should we save her?" The medic asked looking towards Gilda.
"No, she raised her claws against a Brother. She will return to the earth with her cousin." To Gilda the general then added, "I am sorry, Gilda. Know that your sacrifice strengthens the aerie and the Third Empire will rise thanks to you. Go to your next life in peace and may you be reborn as a hunter and not prey."
The griffons then turned one by one and took to the sky leaving Gilda to slowly drift off into a cold inky embrace.