Beyond the Sky

by Sight Watcher

Chapter 2: Aftershocks

Quiet, serene, it was the place where every pony knew your name, and they were always glad you came. Some pony once told Gilda that when describing the small town of Ponyville. A paradise for those who wanted to escape the cities where one could only awake to the smiles of her neighbors; where every day was a song. That was the Ponyville that so many travelers had described.

The griffon saw none of that. To Gilda the settlement had come to represent something else: Failure.

Gilda despised the weak, perceived apologies as an admission of defeat, and lived by the motto of “Either you’re with me or against me.” The thought of defeat was hateful, and embracing those who failed in the fire of competition would only be a celebration of mediocrity which would dull her talent. But, despite all these convictions, Gilda sat perched atop a cloud outside the quaint settlement of Ponyville.

She wore a gray bomber jacket around her torso with sleeves that reached to her talons. The jacket, which was constructed from high quality leather, had two iron shoulder boards at the top of each sleeve, with a bronze emblem of an eagle at the end of each board giving her appearance a mixture of punk and military. It was a common article the griffon wore when travelling long distances both for appearance and to carry any small possessions she had in the pockets, which were all sealed by chrome zippers.

From this height Gilda had reckoned that she was five or so miles away from the edge of the settlement, but her eagle eyes allowed her to make out everything in explicit detail. An observant griffon would be able to spot her with ease, but she doubted any pony could spot her, even if they were looking for her. Equine eyes couldn’t begin to compare with those of a griffon.

The rainbow trail in the distance took the shape of an inward circle.

Gilda sighed. Coming back here was more painful than her confrontation with Discord a week prior. The torture she had endured at the hands of Discord had all been a fabrication. When she had woken in a bed at Cloudsdale General Hospital she realized that the devilish entity was but a trickster who had brought the pain to her mind but not her body. The words of the malevolent trickster stung her ears and wounded her worse than his virtual torture. She’d tried to ignore those words of Discord; tried to drown them out in drink, drug, and rock music, but the force which drew her back to the site of her defeat an unstoppable storm surge that breached all her defenses. This had been building within her for close to a year and it only took to draconequus’ sharp tongue to bring her to the breaking point. Her resolve to stay far away from Ponyville had been broken by one bad day.

The rainbow colored trail weave through the cloud, all the while the observing griffon paid close attention to the mare’s movements. Erratic, spontaneous motions brought life to the pony’s flight, enchanting Gilda as they always had. She flew sporadically, without concern for safety or traditional technique which was the staple of what many considered a great flier. That unpredictability, that raw determination to be the best was exactly what Gilda thought made Rainbow Dash one of the greatest fliers of their generation. It was also why Gilda had cared for the pony as much as any griffon had ever cared for a pony.

Gilda hated the mare for this; hated that the mare warranted such incomprehensible feelings within her body and mind. An overwhelming part of her wanted to unveil her presence in the sky while the other violently implored her to leave and never turn back. She had laid it out at the bakery that Rainbow Dash would have to come back to the griffon. Not the other way around. To make her presence known to the pegasus pony would be a display of weakness –collapsing under the pressure of their separation- and that was the one thing Gilda refused to show any pony.

Gilda knew that she could be insensitive, confrontational, arrogant, and all around bitch on most occasions, but that had never caused any lasting problems. To win one had to be willing to rise to every challenge and when she saw competition for Rainbow Dash’s attention she took what had seemed to be the greatest. She’d picked a fight wagering her own coolness against what she’d seen as a useless assortment of earthbound ponies.

This loser has nothing on me, Gilda had thought before crippling Pinkie Pie’s flying machine and sending the earth pony spiraling back where she belonged: the ground.

Needless to say, Gilda’s plans hadn’t worked out the way she had thought they would. Rainbow Dash accepted these ponies as her friends, embraced them for their differences, then rejected Gilda for the qualities which the griffon had so long believed the two of them had in common.

In the junior flight academy Rainbow Dash beat Gilda’s, and her father’s student speed records. Despite this the griffon had remained close friends with the mare…Until the Ponyville incident. This now weighed heavily on the griffon’s mind. She hated these ponies. She hated them because they were of the sky, but she despised them because of how happy Rainbow Dash was when they were around.

Gilda’s connection to pony society reached back long before she was hatched. Her father, Northwind was born on the streets of Stormhenge, the griffon capitol, an orphan. Taken under the wing of the state Northwind was drafted into a program meant to further integrate pony and griffon society. He became one of the first griffons to live in Cloudsdale attending the Junior Fliers Academy where he set numerous academy records for speed and aerobatics. Despite all of these accomplishments he would be on record as stating the greatest accomplishment of the experience was the chance to becoming so intimately familiar with his pegasus pony classmates. “They are my brothers and sisters in the sky,” he would often say when asked. “And it shall always be an honor to fly by their sides.”

Returning to the griffon nation Northwind was given the rank of Captain, took command of an aerobatics squadron, and became an official ambassador between griffons and ponies. He married fiery female griffon, Zoe. It was a romance born from an undying love of flight: speed and intense aerobatics. Zoe didn’t always share Northwind’s affection for ponykind, but approved of his profession nonetheless. Eventually the two aces had a chick of their own they both agreed that it would be best to set her on the path of her father and attend the academy in Cloudsdale.

Gilda had been at odds with the ponies the moment she’d arrived. She had been raised by griffons, unlike her father, and didn’t come to accept the residents of Cloudsdale as an adoptive family. All except for one sky blue pony with a rainbow mane and tail. The one reason she didn’t return to the griffon nation as her father had done upon his graduation was a single pony.

Rainbow Dash was the focus of the journey. If not for her Gilda would have left Cloudsdale without a batting an eyelash. Because of Rainbow Dash she refused to leave even now.

Above Ponyville the griffon continued to make notes of Rainbow Dash’s every move. She reckoned she was five or so miles away from the edge of the settlement, but her eagle eyes allowed her to make out everything in explicit detail. Gilda had always been quick to exploit the advantages that came with being a griffon.

In the town Rainbow Dash landed in front of the library before disappearing inside, much to Gilda’s surprise.

Egghead! Gilda scoffed. Three years ago the two of them had TPed a library. If Gilda were down there now she would have had undoubtedly managed to provide a fair amount snarky commentary for the notion of a reading Rainbow Dash…But alone she had nothing to say.

Gilda watched the library to see if Rainbow Dash would come out again, but it seemed whatever she was doing was going to take awhile. Gilda had no intention of waiting to see how long that would be.

Pulling on a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses from her jacket pocket Gilda turned her back to Ponyville. She’d killed enough time here. It was time to get back to Cloudsdale. The griffon flew away using the cover of clouds until she was certain that there was no chance of being spotted by any local pegasi. Too many had been present at Sugarcube Corner that day and Gilda was sure if she was spotted everypony in the tight nit community would soon know she’d been there.

Why couldn’t you have just stayed in Cloudsdale where you belonged?

00000

Far, far away from Ponyville, near the border of the pony population is a sight that few ponies have ever seen. The Great Coal Mountain stands out amongst the fields as a pinnacle as a strict overseer watching any who were within a hundred miles of its summit. The face of the mountain looked over the border, its face obscured by smoke and cloud. Gothic towers and smokestacks rose from the side of the Great Coal Mountain. There, on the mountain and built upon the very clouds that surrounded it was a city. This was Stormhenge: the first line of defense for the Griffon Nation.

Above the clouds a white headed griffon, whose crest was highlighted by shades of royal blue, flew in from the south. His travels had begun in the capitol city and he’d flown for two days and nights. He wore a regal vest baring the red and gold colors of the griffon nation which wrapped around his front, fastened with polished brass buttons.

Carved out of the side of the mountain was the maintenance dock for the griffon air corps spectacular airships. Forged from iron, fueled by coal, and lifted by the power of steam the gunships were the pride of griffon engineer’s ingenuity. Such vessels had formed the backbone of the griffon nation’s defensive capabilities for five centuries.

Coming up on the airship dock he singled out the largest ship in the dormant fleet. On its side the vessel read R.A.D. Hurricane. When he landed a group of engineers immediately saluted.

“Good morning, Captain, sir!” The lead engineer was a griffon with a sandy colored head and black circles around his eyes. The members of his crew referred to him as “Wrench” and he had a fatherly smile despite his relatively young age of twenty-three. “Come to check up on things with the fleet?”

Beside the engineers lay a disassembled long gun. A large bin was filled with a gummy substance of a revolting blend of pink, and mold with colors of white, blue, and green mixed in. All the griffons around it wore gloves over their talons.

“That is part of why I’m here, yes.” The captain straightened his red jacket. Gold bars on his shoulders played with the light in gentle yet striking ways. “At ease…Tell me: How are the ship repairs coming along?”

“Canons were gummed up with…candy. Chocolate and cotton candy, mostly…Damnedest thing I ever saw. It would be like a chick’s wonderland if it weren’t such an awful mess to clean up. We have to disassemble, clean and reassemble just about everything with moving parts for every ship in the First Fleet.”

“How long should that take?”

“For the Hurricane I reckon it’ll be another week.” Wrench scratched the top of his head as he reflected on all the damage reports he’d been through. “Entire fleet won’t be up until the end of the month.”

The captain nodded his head. “I received a summons from the admiral and from what it read I am running a few minutes late. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course not: Anything for you, captain.” Wrench smiled. It wasn’t everyday you got to speak with the leader of the Stormbirds.

Major Despina straightened her Cardinal red jacket before she took carried the teacup into the Hurricane’s conference room. Her salmon colored feathers sported a yellow highlight across the top of her head like a candle flickering in a cool night breeze. She was well-groomed and met all standards of a proper griffon officer. Her buttons were polished, her uniform ironed, and all pins were perfectly positioned according to the book. By choosing not to physically stand out from her colleagues in both posture and appearance she was an ideal officer. As a secretary to the Admiral of the entire Griffon Air Corps she was, in a word: Perfect.

The Hurricane’s conference room was spacious, without windows, being brightly lit in shades of orange and gold by a furnace at the back of the room and a chandelier of ten candles above the center of a great oak table. Four griffons were assembled in the room, eying maps, going through papers- two of them were talking about the latest sky race winners, but they were all dressed in their cardinal dress uniforms.

One stood out among this group. He was old, his feathers drooped, but his eyes sparked from the back of the room with the spirit of innovation. Wearing the red uniform over his breast, heavy with the numerous medals and other service awards he’d acquired over a fifty year career Admiral Storm Claw served as the perfect embodiment of griffon military tradition. Major Despina was proud to be his aide.

The door opened and another griffon wearing a leather jacket entered the chamber. Admiral Storm Claw rose to greet him.

“Captain Northwind! I’m pleased that you’ve managed to join us. I know with the Canterlot aerobatics Festival coming up you and your squadron has plenty of preparations to make.”

“My team is professional; I trust them to get along well enough without me for a day or two.” Northwind pulled up a chair.

“Commodore Skyward was just beginning his presentation regarding the recent string of events which has rendered our warbirds dead in the sky.”

“You need not halt everything for my sake.” Northwind’s response had both gratitude and sincerity. “I assure you, I am caught up with the situation.”

“I only pause to allow the admiral to exchange his greetings.” A sneer could almost be found in Skyward’s expression, but he was well trained in concealing his personal emotions- at least in front of the other officers. Recent events had left the commander of Stormhenge’s fleet in a less than amiable mood.

Skyward rose from his seat, sweeping his foreleg in the direction of enlarged pictures posted on the wall displaying pink clouds, machines jammed, and burning factories. Every griffon in the room waited in silent anticipation for what the commodore had to say. Such serious demeanor and posture only came from one who came from a family who had served the Griffon Air Corps diligently for centuries.

“It is undeniable that the source of our problems was magical in nature. As a result our airships have all been put to dock with their canons incapable of firing until we’ve had a chance to retool, refit, and clean every last piece. There is only one way such a great magical force could have been created: a fully organized push on our borders by Princess Celestia.”

Whispers quickly began circulating the table as the other officers spoke to their peers.

“Northwind is our ambassador on such matters. What have you on the matter, captain?” Admiral Stormclaw delicately lifted the teacup to his beak, not the least bit alarmed by Skyward’s fiery words.

“I am…May I have your permission to comment on the commodore’s claim, Admiral?”

“Permission granted.” Stormclaw returned the teacup to the table beside several classified scrolls.

“Commodore Skyward, I assure you that this accusation against Princess Celestia by Commodore Skyward is misplaced. Acting as ambassador for these past twelve years, and having lived beside them for my youth I have no reason to suspect any of what you claim has any accuracy. To think they’d want war with us is in a word: ludicrous.”

Northwind said this with respect, without the slightest hint of malice, but it clearly struck Skyward as a personal attack against his character, if one were to judge his expression of indignation.

“Of course you’d say that: You were practically raised by them!” Skyward grinned sarcastically at the aerobatics leader. “I believe your judgment is compromised by your affinity for the ponies. Thus, it has no bearing in this council.”

“Commodore, Northwind has been a dependable ambassador of peace whose record is unblemished unlike other griffons in this council.” Vice-Admiral Irene had perhaps the most frightening red eyes a griffon could hope to possess, but her voice came out strong and soothing to the ear. The feathers of her head were gray, and her uniform sported brilliant gold patterns along the length of the sleeves which were not standard issue.

“He was raised by the pegasi of Equestria because our people willed it. I signed the document which put him in pony care.” Admiral Stormclaw leaned forward over the table, tapping his claws on the wooden surface. “In his adult life Northwind has more than proved himself as an ambassador for our diplomatic interactions and the face of the griffon nation.”

“Thank you admiral, but I don’t need you to come to my defense if the commodore here wants to play hardball.” Northwind turned his head to the general, eyes focusing to a harsh point on the other griffon. “All reports I’ve received from my acquaintances and colleagues spread from Cloudsdale to Canterlot –griffons and ponies- have informed me that they faced the exact same ordeals our people did on that disastrous day. They are still recovering from the event, same as we are.”

“My sources also confirm Northwind’s analysis, Skyward.” Vice-Admiral Irene put the parchment she had been reading from back on the table in front of her. “The ponies faced many of the same or similar incidents on the same date.

Admiral Stormclaw leaned forward, crossing his forelegs, interweaving the digits of his talons together in a contemplative manner. “Your accusations are less than compelling, commodore.”

“An elaborate ploy, but still a ploy cleverly conceived to catch us off guard is all I see. They wish to show up our steel, steam, and gunpowder with their sorcerer ways!” General Skyward pulled a scroll from beneath his desk. “Our airships, our weapons, all have advanced over the centuries, but we are never going to be safe. My fellow griffons, two princesses once again rule over Canterlot. Their magic could very well be doubled by this in spite of this Luna’s thousand year absence. Remember that in The War Celestia alone was their key to turning the tides of war against us. With two Princesses in Canterlot imagine the destruction that could be unleashed upon our fleet in the event of war.”

Nervous chatter spread throughout the room and Northwind swiftly rose, the room falling into silence as soon as he did.

“Princess Celestia is not a soul of violence like you, Skyward. Of this I am sure. The princess regrets what the previous war forced her to do and hopes the events never are repeated.” Northwind clasped a talon over his breast which to griffons was meant to display the highest degree of honor and integrity. “If Celestia was behind this I’d tear out my own heart with my talons and allow the vultures to descend upon me if this were found untrue. ”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain. Please cut the melodramatics and tell us why you believe this.” The Vice-Admiral was known for her bluntness.

“Perhaps a fringe group of unicorns could have –however unlikely- caused this mess we’re now stuck with, but it does not have any connection to the princess or any other member of their ruling class.”

Skyward rolled his eyes. “So you’re willing to accept this…preposterous description of an omnipotent being who just decided to take the planet for a joyride?”

“I do.” Northwind said this with the utmost conviction. “The existence of a strange, all-powerful being known as Discord exists in the eldest of historical records. Why debate it? An attack with candy is not a military ploy, but is clearly the work of a trickster, which by all accounts is what Discord was always portrayed as.”

“We’re to allow fairy tales to become a basis for our international diplomacy?” Skyward laughed. “Are we taking this story seriously?”

“Perhaps,” Admiral Stormclaw raised a talon, “you could inform us as to what he believes to be the proper course of action.”

“It’s very simple: Raise the fleet.” Skyward straightened his uniform and spoke with renewed zeal. “Move our airships from dock in Stormhenge to patrol our border. Let every pony remember we exist and we are strong! Their farms continue to cut into our hunting grounds, and the bulk of their population seems to ignore our presence. Let us remind them of who we are! I’m not asking for war, Admiral. All I wish is to remind our neighbors that we are not defenseless whelps who can be made a mockery by an application of sweets. After this incident we cannot afford to appear weak. We are griffon!”

“That doesn’t accomplish anything.” Northwind shook his head. “Needlessly worrying countless griffons and ponies with a military presence does nothing but lead to fear, and unease. Think about it: If Princess Celestia moved a battalion of her troops on our border you know exactly how we’d react. It would be chaos.”

Skyward sneered, turning his attention to the admiral.

“Admiral, I beg my pardon for asking this, but: why is the captain here? I fail to see how the leader of the aerobatic squadron has a place in a meeting on internal military matters. He is an ambassador, but he doesn’t know how to run an army.”

“Northwind is our chief diplomatic tie with the ponies of Equestria. He knows the ponies, he knows their Princess. Northwind’s own daughter lives in one of their cities, and was hospitalized as a result of the recent incident. If that wasn’t enough to turn him against the ponies than I must conclude that he has no reason to doubt them. That is why he is here.”

“What does this have to do with-”

“Must I repeat myself, Commodore? If anyone should be raising concern as to our alliance with Celestia and the rest of ponydom he has a far better reason to be angered by this current predicament yet he remains calm and collected. What has actually happened? Some guns are jammed and some ships are in dock: we haven’t had to use such weapons since the diamond dogs attacked out eastern mines fifteen years ago. What are the odds of something happening within the next two weeks that we’d suddenly need to call upon our guns?”

“You can never be too cautious, Admiral.” Skyward knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with his pitch and resigned back to his chair.

“There is a difference between cautiously calculated safety precautions and staging the alarms for war.” Vice Admiral Irene combed her regal, cool gray feathers with a graceful sweep of her right talon. “If the ponies wanted war we’d have known it by now. We haven’t spotted so much as a patrol of ponies on our borders.”

Admiral Stormclaw nodded his approval to the Vice Admiral’s statement before turning his attention back to Skyward. All the while Despina began to sketch an image of the Vice Admiral’s pose in her notebook. Something about her profile struck Despina at that moment.

“Contrary to your statement, Commodore: I believe it is quite easy to become too cautious, Commodore. If this was a preemptive strike they would attack, not give us time to retool our vessels. We will write off our misfortunes as an unfortunate, yet ultimately harmless enterprise caused by an individual with a sick sense of humor.”

“If that is your wish, Admiral…”

“Now, as for the matter of the fleet…”

Northwind who had remained composed and silent for the entirety of the previous exchange remained in silent suspense.

“I feel this disaster has given a chance to finally retire some of the fleet.” Admiral Stormclaw clapped his talons together once and the sound echoed through the room. “Our oldest ship, the Starwind has seen her time and has reached an end. She is the last ship to have served in the Sky War between our forces and those of Celestia. Rather than melting her down, myself and the royal family have decided to remove her canons and put her in the care of Captain Northwind and the Stormbirds.”

A round of applause went around the room. Irene personally patted Northwind’s shoulder while the Admiral provided a gentle clapping of his talons.

“I had no idea...I mean…Thank you, Admiral.” Northwind bowed his head. He seemed legitimately humbled by the experience, but he kept professional restraint. “I will see to it that she is properly taken care of and promptly put in use once she’s out of dock. I’ll see her shining the Old Red and Gold as soon possible.”

Despina smiled. For a griffon most infamous for his daring, and numerous victories in aerial athletics Northwind had an incredibly polite demeanor; not at all representing the hothead connotations which had long been associated with the Stormbird aerobatics squadron. Northwind was indeed a down-to-cloud griffon. A sketch of the near-blush that had crossed his face upon receiving news of the Starwind now appeared in her log beside the dismissive expression of Vice-Admiral Irene.

“This is absurd!” Skyward couldn’t contain his malcontent, although he had tried for all of thirty seconds. “We are attacked without warning and this board’s first course of action is to further weaken our defenses for the sake of an air show? Admiral, I must protest!”

“In my experience I’ve discovered that an air show can be one of the most effective methods of diplomacy. Every being can appreciate a spectacle while only a very few get off on the thought of war.” Northwind cast a sincere smile in the commodore’s direction. “Even applauds a healthy dose of derring-do.”

“Attacked seems to be putting a bit of an overly melodramatic spin on cotton candy,” Irene chuckled.

“I discussed this in detail with the King.” Stormclaw pushed his now emptied cup of tea to the side. “A griffon warship has not been to Canterlot since the Sky War. Now, on the 75th anniversary of the Sky War a griffon Air Corps vessel will once again take dock in Canterlot, but this time it shall be under the banner of peace. It seems only fitting that you, our chief diplomat in-charge of coordinating the Starwind’s new purpose.”

Despina returned with an envelope sealed with the royal seal. She set it down in front of the Captain who made no move to pick it up. Up close his eyes seemed to suggest that he wasn’t entirely there. He was a part of this meeting but only to give an apposite response to the admiral’s summons. He spoke with such clarity, such fire, yet in his eyes she could see he was dissimulating; creating a face for the other griffons, while concealing something else which took a precedent on his mind. It wasn’t excitement for the Starwind, although there certainly was that in his expression, but something he was burying that grabbed Despina.

The major quietly returned to her location at the far end of the table, trying not to look too long at the captain. It wasn’t her place to judge what was going through his mind at this time.

“Captain Northwind, this letter has been signed by our king and is addressed to Princesses Celestia and Luna in Canterlot. Contained within are all the details on the Starwind project approved, and signed by the King. It is also important as this will be the first time in over a thousand years that our kind has had contact with this Princess Luna. I trust that you will leave a good first impression.”

“I am a first and foremost a gentlegriffon. What is my timeframe for delivery?”

“It is to be delivered to their hoofs within the next three days. If you accept we wish that you’d begin your journey this afternoon. I will see to it that the Stormbirds are told the reason for your departure. Are you up to it?”

Northwind didn’t need any time to think it over.

“It would be my honor to accept this task. I had reasons to journey in the region as it was so this only speeds things along.”

“Yes, I was aware you’d have other reasons. Just be sure to deliver the letter before checking in on your daughter, Northwind. Family is forever, but letters are best delivered ASAP.”

“Understood, Admiral.” Northwind slipped the letter into an interior pocket of his jacket before he snapped a salute.

Daughter? Despina watched the captain leave. His daughter was rarely talked about amongst griffons so the major never had thought of Northwind as a father. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that his daughter –was it Gilda or Gertrude? - had never returned to the griffon nation after leaving for Cloudsdale, except for the occasional visit. Back when she was coming of age many griffons had expected the daughter of Northwind return to the griffon nature to join the Stormbirds, to lead side-by-side with her father, but she’d chosen to remain with the ponies of Cloudsdale for whatever reason. No one was quite sure why.

The girl must really love ponies, Despina figured.

“Peace is not an infinite variable, admiral.” Skyward had waited until the captain had left before he added in his last thoughts on the matter. “The time will come when we must defend our home with force again.”

“And I hope to be long dead when that day does come.” Stormclaw combed his crest. “When the days of reason, and diplomats such as Northwind fail is the time when griffons like you will carry us, Skyward. But until that day comes you’d best learn to shut your beak.”

Upon returning to Cloudsdale Gilda immediately made her way towards the markets. Her body was aching all over from the full day’s flight and she hadn’t had so much as a morsel the entire day. It didn’t matter what food she found she was going to eat it.

Putting her sunglasses back in her breast pocket Gilda approached the first vendor she saw.

“Hey!” Gilda took the apple seller by surprise. The sea foam green pegasus mare seemed to have been daydreaming in the corner of her stand when the griffon arrived. “Any pony alive in there?”

“Oh- hello, I was just…Welcome to Organic Air: Bringing the freshest from below up above!” The mare wore an apron around her front with the symbol of a pegasus flying through the clouds with a trail of fruits and vegetables behind its tail. With nervous posture, and unsure inflections in her speech the mare was clearly not used to being around a griffon.

“The name’s on your sign.” Gilda pointed a claw above the mare’s head.

“Oh, right: so it is. Ummm…” the young mare trailed off.

“What’s your name?”

“My name? Merry Cloud.”

“Mare-y,” Gilda was silently laughing as the sales pony undoubtedly had no idea why the griffon had just pronounced her name in such a fashion. Word games had become a favorite form of ridicule in the griffon’s sarcastic arsenal over the past year. “You’re new, I take it.”

“Yes, it’s my first day. I’m still getting my hoofs in ground– cloud…You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I gotcha…” Gilda’s eyes scanned the shelves behind the counter. She placed her talons on the counter and began gently tapping her razor sharp claws against the surface. “What do you have for sale?”

“Um…apples?” The mare’s eyes warily watched the griffon’s talons.

“I know they’re apples! What kind?”

“Sorry, sorry! How stupid of me. We have…Granny Smith…Gold and Red Delicious; all fresh from Sweet Apple Acres!

“Hmmph, that’s in Ponyville, isn’t it?”

“Yes...or just right outside Ponyville, I think. Some folk reckon they’re the best apples in all of Equestria!”

“Aren’t all amazing things coming from Ponyville now?” Gilda’s bitter sarcasm didn’t escape the mare, although she didn’t understand why the griffon chose to take that tone when speaking of the small town. “I’ll take one of the red-whatevers.”

“One Red Delicious, coming up!” The mare reached a hoof towards a basket beside the counter when Gilda slammed a fist onto the counter causing her to jump.

“No!” Gilda pointed a claw up to the top shelf behind the mare. “Top shelf, that bright one in the center: I want it.”

“Oh?” Merry looked up hesitantly, her wings twitching with unease.

“I am all awesome and only accept the best.” Gilda ran a claw through the feathers atop her head; her wings were spread out in a regal fashion. “That one up there looks like a winner.”

“Well, if you insist.” The mare flew to the top of the shelf, mumbling something about how the customer was always right. She reached a hoof for an apple that seemed to reflect the most light.

“Not that one! The one in the middle…”

“Where?”

“Don’t you know what middle means?”

“I do.”

“Then stop wasting my time.”

Merry moved her hoof to the left.

“No! More to the right... Left! Up a bit…Yes!”

Merry placed her hoof on the apple, warily looking back at the griffon. Gilda nodded in approval and the mare sighed in relief.

“Is that going to be all?” The mare returned, placing the apple on the counter, a bit frazzled by the unexpected demands of the griffon.

Gilda took a hold of the apple, pulling it close to her eye as if she were examining a fine gem. “Hmmm…seen better but I think this will do.”

“That’ll be two bits. Have to say I don’t think I’ve ever met a griffon with a tooth- err, beak for apples.” The pony smiled kindly.

Gilda dropped the coins on the counter, letting them roll so that the mare had to jump to keep them from slipping off the counter and into the clouds below. Reaching into her pocket she retrieved her sunglasses. “I’m not like most griffons.”

“Have a nice day!”

“I will.”

“Bitch…” Merry Cloud said under her breath as the griffon left the stall.

Gilda took a bite of the apple as she began to walk away from the stand. Merry’s soft spoken comment couldn’t escape a griffon’s ears, but it didn’t upset her. In fact it brought a smile to Gilda’s beak. The mare hadn’t noticed the two additional apples Gilda had slipped into her jacket as she’d been frantically searching for the mysterious “best apple” on the top shelf.

Ponies were so easily bilked.

Walking through the markets Gilda thought over her options. Given the sun’s current position Gilda reckoned she had three or so hours left to be burned before nightfall. Nomiki and Selene had said they didn’t want to do anything today; she’d exhausted herself flying to Ponyville and back. Not much she could think to do so heading home seemed like a good idea. There she could put on a record and maybe read the latest issue of Sky Ace Magazine.

“Gilda!”

Who the fu–

Gilda turned around, lowering her aviators, finding herself beak-to-snout with a gray pegasus stallion.

“What do you want?”

The stallion’s tail and mane (slick with gel) was jet black and his eyes were a bright yellow which seemed to shine like searchlights. He wore an unbuttoned crimson tailcoat which only partially rested on his front and had remarkably decadent tails which trailed along his back to his flank. Beneath the unbuttoned coat could be seen a black velvet vest fastened by silver buttons.

“I thought that was you. How could I ever forget such stylish feathers or that butch aura of confidence?” He spoke fast as if he was racing to spit the sentences out, but his voice was infused with a charismatic swoon, holding a posture of cool determination. “Do you remember me?”

“Can’t say I do…”

“We went to in academy together! It has been ages, hasn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah…it has.” I have no idea who you are.

“Flight Physics, fourth row, second to the end- you remember, don’t you? I remember you were in the back row with Rainbow Dash. I know you Junior Speedsters lived in a separate world from the rest of us, but we did meet on several memorable occasion.”

“That was you? Yeah, yeah, yeah…I can remember the slowpokes.” I have never seen you before in my life. Gilda tried to smile.

“You two graduated with top honors in aerobatics?”

“Totally. They finally acknowledged pure awesome.”

“Splendid! So I do remember you!” He clapped his hoofs together. “I was never really much of a flier, you know (of course you know) but I did love watching you two go at it. You two were a spectacle! Both the best fliers of a generation together: what an irresistible rapport.”

“Thanks…I guess?”

“Still flying I take it? I’m an art dealer now, you see, so do understand this is a most sincere compliment when I say in flight you two were finer than any piece in my auction house.”

“Well, don’t think you’re getting me to go look at artsy-fartsy exhibit. That gallery stuff isn’t up to my speed. Only cracked eggheads who think they’re something great hang around art galleries.” Gilda herself wasn’t sure if her comment was serious or not. It simply was what she’d said without any thought.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho, your sarcastic wit is always a delight! Of course I’m not trying to con you into a sale- even if I do have some wonderful work done on canvas and a few sculptures for sale that I’m sure would suit your lifestyle. ” The stallion wrapped a foreleg around Gilda’s front, leaning against her in a jovial embrace of affection which the griffon did not share. “I attended the young flier’s competition –as a spectator, of course! - and was blown away by Rainbow Dash’s performance!”

“Yeah…I heard it was something else.” Don’t remind me. Everyone in Cloudsdale was talking about it for weeks! And all of them wanted to know what I thought of it.

“Goodness gracious, it was something else! They called it a Sonic Rainboom, can you believe it? Oh my, such a delight! Positively smashing! I’d never seen anything like it– you see I was far more concerned with studies so I wasn’t out in the cloud yard that day when she first managed the feat. I beat myself up for years ‘Oh how could I miss one of the greatest feats of all time!’ but then I was able to see it performed on such a grand scale- the suspense, the build-up, the rescue of that unicorn- Bravo! It came together with pure éclat!”

“That’s Dash for you…always rising to the occasion.” Please kindly shut the hay up and leave me alone.

“Now, I was in attendance for the entire show, read the entire list of participants but… I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t one of the participants in the competition! After Rainbow Dash performed so fabulously I was hoping so very much to see you join her in the arena- in fact when for the final batch they said that due to time they’d have two come out at once I remember saying to myself ‘Oh that must be Rainbow Dash and Gilda- those two are inseparable!’ Imagine my surprise when it was Rainbow Dash and a unicorn with some sort of wing enchantment who came out…why weren’t you in attendance, Gilda?”

Gilda felt the tendons in her neck tighten. She’d been dreading that question the instant the stallion had begun talking about the competition. Every pony who knew her from Academy and Junior Speedsters managed to work their way to the Young Fliers Competition.

“I could have but I figured ‘Hey, I’m of mature age- why do I need to compete in a young flier completion? Winning that would be the same as if I went back to the academy and beat the snot out of all the students at a game of dodge ball: sure I would win but there’d be no satisfaction in it.” You damn phony. He can see right through everything I’m saying.

The stallion brought his right hoof to his chin in a speculative manner, as if coaxing some information from a distance memory. “Mmmm, I suppose that is understandable for someone of your skill. Yes, quite understandable! I just had figured with the Princess being in attendance that the competition had greater merit, but your stance is very commendable.”

The truth was that the competition, coming up so close behind Gilda’s break off with Rainbow Dash, had compelled the griffon to avoid meeting her former friend. She’d never admit to it, but the she had dropped out solely to avoid meeting with Rainbow Dash, which would have been unavoidable had she attended. Then the thought of talking to Rainbow Dash after what had happened was even more frightening than the prospect of losing.

“Heh, uhm, I’m kind of busy so I’m going to wing it - things to do at home and all.” An insincere smile formed across her beak.

“By all means don’t let little old me hold you up.”

Gilda didn’t need to be told twice: she was gone in an instant, not looking back and already praying that she’d never run into the stallion ever again.

Hate. Gilda hated that stallion. She didn’t know his name, but she hated him. For no real reason other than his complete acceptance of her. His seeming refusal to call her excuses into question, or throw out an accusation against her character was unbearable. He had to know that his blind acceptance of everything she said was causing her to squirm in unease. No pony had their head that far in the dirt to not acknowledge such blatant lies.

Gilda no longer wanted to fly about the town. She just wanted to be home.

Griffons lived on the outskirts of Cloudsdale. They got well-enough along with ponies, but they still naturally felt safer when amongst their own kind. Gilda’s house was a small tower of enchanted white and black clouds just on the edge of the griffon quarter. Large pillars in the front created a sweeping archway for the relatively small house.

This was her home but Gilda didn’t feel secure in it.

Inside the humble dwelling everything had a way of reminding the griffon of Rainbow Dash. Gilda’s records whose music crackled with guitar chords, pounding bass and drums always sent her mind spiraling down a path of recollection. Once they’d sit around the dorm and listen to it for hours. So many times Gilda had wanted to smash the record player, but was stopped when she remembered that it too was a gift…from the one pony who’d ever given the griffon anything.

Gilda retrieved a bottle, popped the cap with a claw and took a long drink. She didn’t know why but she was shivering from the encounter with the stallion.

The walls of her common room were covered in pictures, posters, and other prints. One of her parents, posters for the Stormbirds and the Wonderbolts, her diploma from the academy…Every other image was of Gilda and Rainbow Dash from their earliest days in the academy all the way to graduation. A photographic chronicle: Night Mare Night costumes, Wonderbolt rally seats, wearing their Junior Speedsters uniforms, proudly displaying their Ace awards at graduation, and other memories that were timeless representations of joy, and fulfillment.

Gilda placed a claw on a picture of her and Rainbow Dash posed outside their cabin at Junior Speedsters Camp. She found herself reciting the chant: “Junior Speedsters are our lives…” Her eyes scanned the rest of the wall. “Sky-bound soars and daring dives…”

Turning she passed through a dark gray door into another room.

Gilda’s bedroom’s spacious nature was highlighted by the fact that there was little more than a bed, a bookshelf, and a bedside table. On the bedside table was a picture of the two Junior Speedsters together. In it she had a foreleg wrapped around Rainbow Dash and they both radiated with the most effusive smiles they could have managed. In that image there was captured that youthful energy that Gilda so desperately yearned for now. They’d been invincible then before reality began to interfere; for a brief moment in time, immortalized in that single frame a griffon and pony were all the other needed to be happy. Looking upon it Gilda felt both the calming embrace of a fond memory and the fury brought on by mare’s rejection of her.

The picture was taken the day before Rainbow Dash had left Cloudsdale for Ponyville.

On the wall overlooking the table corner was a poster of Validus: A mountain that reached above the clouds. For centuries no pony (or griffon) thought it was possible to fly to the top of the mountain – let alone climb it, but brave ponies and griffons shattered the myth. Hundreds of years ago the first aerobatic teams of Equestria trained and competed there. It was isolated from society, a place where only the strongest survived.

“Junior Speedsters it’s our quest,” Gilda looked at the mountain’s face, taking another swig from the bottle. “To someday be the very best.”

Two hours past, and twice as many bottles of the powerful elixir were emptied. Gilda was alone, lying stretched across the floor of her common room in a drunken stupor. When she’d gotten home she hadn’t intended to drink herself into a shell of her true self, but it had happened nonetheless. The encounter with the stallion had made her feel so unclean, dirty…pathetic.

This was a time when Gilda least wanted to be reminded of Discord, yet his words were what found their way into her head.

Are predators not supposed to be the fastest?
How does it feel knowing you’ll always be second best?
Who needs a former schoolyard hotshot?

“Shut up!” Gilda turned to face the wall, shut her eyes, and covered her ears. Night had come over Cloudsdale.

You’re a dead end.

Gilda swore she could see the malevolent jester’s face in the walls, though her vision was clouded by exhaustion and drink. His distorted face smiled toothily at her, and an icy chill made its way up her spine. All the pictures were staring at her: laughing! Rainbow Dash was laughing at her.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

You mean to say that she never knew?

With a shriek Gilda lunged, tearing the photos from the wall, shredding each image bit to bit.

“I don’t need you! I don’t need you!” The griffon repeatedly told herself until there was nothing left but a pile of scraps left on the floor. It didn’t matter if they were framed or not, she made sure to get to each picture she could get her talons on. When it was over, her talons were blooded where glass from shattered picture frames had cut her.

Gilda slid into the corner, exhausted, her chest heaving.

“You fucking flip flop!” She could feel a single tear collecting at the corner of her eye.

For the next four hours Gilda slipped in and out of consciousness. When she awoke with enough of her senses active to realize where she was her beak was planted at the foot of the dresser. With little more than a groan she managed to sit up on her back legs, warily rubbing her head with talons.

Above her was the poster. It remained untouched out of all the images that had been destroyed this night. Resolute and strong the poster was a beacon in the night.

Validus was more than a mountain: it was a symbol of what Gilda strove to stand for. Now stared back at her mockingly reminding her of how far short she’d fallen from her goals. Gilda had intended to go there with Rainbow Dash someday. It was going to be so awesome. It would have been just the two of them, camping out in the most famous location in flight history. Those plans had changed that day in Ponyville…

Or had they?

She had wasted so many opportunities to prove herself, but now Gilda approached the poster with renewed interest. The Tower of Champions, they had once called it. Those who journeyed through wind and ice, breathed in the air of the peak, and pushed their wings to the limit returned from Validus as the best who had ever lived.

The answer to all her problems, it seemed, had been staring her in the face this entire time. She would train as none but the greatest fliers in history had done before. When she returned she’d be renewed, reborn: that was the dream promised by Mt. Validus.

Why did she have to let her actions be dictated by a single pony? That’s what had happened: Gilda had allowed emotions to weaken her. She was a griffon! If she died today no pony would ever remember a griffon by the name of Gilda, but if she conquered Validus, then returned to Cloudsdale as a champion of the sky…She’d be redeemed! No one would question her again…not even Rainbow Dash.

It was settled: She would go to Validus, peak of champions, and wouldn’t return until she was the best flier in all of Equestria. She could do whatever she wanted and she would triumph…

No matter the cost.