//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 // Story: Feathered Heart // by Demon Eyes Laharl //------------------------------// “Hey, uh, Gilda?” Fortrakt asked. “Excuse me, Gletscher?” Gilda asked back in a cold tone. Fortrakt grimaced and corrected himself, “My apologies, Sub-Tribune.” Gilda sighed before looking behind her. Her group was flying a bit of ways behind her, so maybe she was overreacting a little. Still, she couldn't let them—mostly the Aricians of her team—think of her as anything less than an authority figure, especially since in a few moments, she would be ordering them to the claws of their enemies. Fortrakt, at least, seemed to understand her position, and went back to his professional stance. She let a moment of silence pass, concentrating on the comforting warm wind travel beneath her wings, before asking, "What is it?" Fortrakt looked behind them, and said in a volume that made sure that only she could hear, "Are you okay?" Gilda looked at him, watching the expression of worry in his face with a bit of confusion. She replied, in almost the same volume, "Yeah. Why are you asking?" “It’s just that… you’ve been very focused since we left the camp.” Gilda almost laughed. “And that’s a bad thing?” Fortrakt opened his beak for a moment, but just as quickly he closed it. One of Gilda’s eyes widened in surprise, but kept quiet as the tiercel seemed to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he finally said, “Please don’t kill Bricius.” That got her confused. Looking at her partner, she asked, “I’m not going to kill him. He’s not even part of our group.” “If not him, then who?” “Why do you think I’m going to kill someone?” Gilda asked, annoyed. Fortrakt looked at her with a disbelieving expression. “I haven’t been your partner for very long, but I know the signs.” “What signs?” “You tend to have an expression when you’re very mad at someone,” Fortrakt finally explained. “I saw it before you drove me through the table when we first met, and when Marco touched your wing base. Now, you’re about to go to battle, and you’re wearing that face again.” “Maybe because I want to kill cloven?” Gilda replied, rolling her eyes. “Ever thought of that?” “You have a different expression for that.” “Really? You can tell?” There was a small smugness in his tone when he replied, “It’s a very distinct expression.” “Whatever,” Gilda said before shaking her head. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” Fortrakt nodded. “Okay. But who are you mad at?” “Is this really a conversation we should be having before we go to battle?” she asked, her annoyance coming back. “I just want to make sure you’re clear-headed,” the tiercel explained, raising his two claws defensively. “You know, since we’re all going to battle soon. I don’t want you to get conflicted. I still have glorious stories to tell my cubs, after all.” Gilda smiled. “You’ll survive, I’ll make sure of it. You getting cubs, I can’t promise.” “Well, that’s good at least,” Fortrakt said. “So, who are you mad at?” “Again?” “Well, you didn’t think I’d let that go so easily, did you?” the tiercel replied with his own smile. “If it’s not Bricius, who? Other than me, I haven’t seen any other griffin annoy you recently.” Gilda looked at him for a moment, before looking forward again. “I may have heard that Marco’s been telling stories about me to the Marines.” “Ah… that’s okay then.” Gilda blinked, and looked at him again. “That’s okay? How’s that okay? The stories apparently spawned a mysterious betting pool, and you don’t know this, but these Marines have a tendency to blow stories out of proportion.” “It’s probably not as bad as you think,” Fortrakt replied. “Maybe it is,” she countered, “that’s why when I’m back at Aricia, I’m going to find out what the crows Marco was talking about.” “See, that’s why it’s a good thing,” he explained. “You’re probably planning some sort of ambush, which means you actually have plans to return, which means you’re going to do your best to win the battle.” That got her to chuckle. “That’s a very simplistic way to look at things.” “We’re going to battle,” Fortrakt explained. “Keeping things simple is the best thing to do.” “Whatever,” Gilda replied. “Also, I thought of twelve ambushes.” Fortrakt laughed. “I believe that.” Gilda shook her head, a little more thankful for the conversation. They were probably only a league out from the cloven outpost, and it helped to ease that heavy feeling in her stomach. A million thoughts seemed to travel through her head as she went over the plan once more. She felt apprehensive, knowing that any battle plan crashes when you face the enemy, but also hopeful thanks for the support she got from Imlay and his Marines, Giraldi, and even the Aricians that were fighting with them. “Sub-Tribune,” Fortrakt called. “We’re here.” Gilda nodded, and gave a signal clear to those following her. They slowly began to descend, meeting with a nodding Giraldi half-way down before once more converging on the wagons the Marines were riding. However, unlike the small rest they had earlier, everyone was still moving when they met on the ground. “Okay, Marines, you know what to do,” Imlay shouted as five Marines got off their respective wagons. “Carry only what you need! You can’t weigh your partner down!” “Yes, Corporal!” was the unison reply as the Marines began to rummage through their backpacks, grabbing whatever they needed before throwing them back into the wagon. Then, as if synchronized, five sky-griffins, all of whom had fought with the Marines in the steadholt, stepped forward. Giraldi joined them, and Gilda watched as he checked each griffin one by one, most likely to see if their movement was hampered in any way that would affect their flight. Some even began to hover off the ground to check on the weight, and when that was done, they gave Giraldi a nod. “Ma’am.” Gilda blinked, and realized Imlay had just approached her. Facing him, she asked, “Yes, Corporal?” “My guys will have their radios, so we’ll be able to keep each other coordinated on the assault,” Imlay said. “The skies are still clear?” Gilda nodded. “Still no Flyers. Mages will still be the greatest threat to us.” “Let us know if that changes.” Again, Gilda nodded. She felt a rather odd sensation. The pit of her stomach seemed to announce itself once more, but along with it was an odd sort of warmth around her limbs, something she usually associated when racing against Rainbow Dash during their Flight School days. Imlay seemed to have read her, and smiled. “You look ready.” Oddly enough, she did. The thoughts of her leading soldiers and Marines to their deaths was still in her mind, but along with it was a sense of purpose, the sense of doing what was necessary. Defending their homes, fighting with allies, she could do all these because she needed to do them. Nodding, Gilda returned back to her group as Imlay returned to his wagon. Just before she could give the order to move out, Imlay said, loudly, “We have a job to do, gentlemen. You all know what to do.” And he looked around towards the unmoving Marines. “Let’s squish some bugs.” Gilda expected some sort of rambunctious laughter, a joke. However, the response was complete silence. It was unnerving. It was, however, very reassuring. Gilda couldn’t help but smile, and shouted, with an even louder voice, “Move out!” With that, the wagon sped off to one direction, with Giraldi and his group following after them. Gilda’s group took towards the sky, flying towards another. The trip was notable for its utter silence. Gilda could only hear the flapping of wings and the gentle gust of wind. Even the scout leader didn’t verbally acknowledge that her group was going to fly ahead. She just gave Gilda a nod, and sped forward, with Fortrakt placing himself in the middle once more. Looking back, she saw the Marines relaxed, probably not to burden their partners. While the latter looked slightly strained, their eyes were focused and keeping pace. Gilda didn’t know how long they were flying, but soon, they spotted the scouting group, flying lower and in circles in front of them. Raising her hand to signal descent, her group began to dive slowly towards the scouts, and when they were near enough, the circling griffins converged on the thicket below them. Landing was smooth, and Gilda took her time to do her usual checking of surroundings before she relaxed. The Marines dismounted from their partners, also taking surveillance of their surroundings, while Gilda’s whole group began to regroup around her. They looked at her for a moment, most of them looking at ease, while the smaller Arician faction looked at her with trepidation. “I need four griffins moving ahead in a spread formation as we move towards our destination,” Gilda ordered. “We need the element of surprise for this attack to work. Kill anything suspicious. Remember the stories of cloven using Corrupted wildlife as their eyes.” Everyone, even the Marines, nodded. Five sky-griffins, Fortrakt included, began to trek forward in a fanning formation, climbing up the small incline, while the rest of the group began to follow behind them. Slowly, they marched forward, and Gilda could imagine them listening for odd sounds, smelling the air for decay. The rustling of the grass, the whistle amongst the trees, and the clanking of metal seemed to be their only companion, creating some sort of illusion of the group being alone. As they traveled, the scent of the air began to change. The rotting smell of death began to slowly permeate around them. Gilda’s feathers bristled. Cloven were around. The griffins knew it. She even saw the Marines take a more cautious outlook to their surroundings. Everyone seemed to be listening, watching, and waiting for something to come out. The whole group stopped when they heard a small thump in the air, and the sickening sound of an arrow thrusting to something soft. Then came another. Gilda sighed. As glad as she was about their scouts doing their jobs well, she was getting agitated again. They were far enough from the outpost that wouldn’t garner a large Cloven patrol. However, she couldn’t help think, what if the codex was wrong? Shaking her head, she kept moving forward. In the end, it didn’t matter whether there were a clawful or a legion of Cloven, they still had to move forward. By the time they arrived at the peak of the hill they were climbing, the woodland gave way to tall grass. There, the scouts were all accounted for. They didn’t need to say anything, just nodding at the group’s arrival. Even Fortrakt seemed a little quiet. Gilda gave them a thankful nod, before moving towards the edge of the hill. It was a good spot. There was a rather steep drop, which gave her a clear view of the front area. She could finally see the outpost with her own eyes. It was as the scouts had described it. The Cloven had created a small clearing in the field, with the Heart ominously in the center. The tall grass was absent in favor of the croach. It even conquered some tall trees, slanting them into sickly angles that made them look like melting wax figures. She could see patrolling figures and the large massive Spikers scattered around the perimeter. Part of her mind wondered if she was crazy to even follow the plan. Gilda heard a Marine chatter behind her, recognizing some of the wording used, and assumed he was on that very useful radio. He also seemed to describe the Cloven outpost before taking a pause, then called her. “Ma’am.” Gilda turned to face him and recognized him as Guerrero, the Marine that crudely talked about Marco’s supposed misadventures in Equestria. He wasn’t smiling or laughing. “Corporal Imlay advised us that they have arrived at their designated area.” Gilda nodded. She knew Imlay and Giraldi would find it harder to locate an optimum position to attack, not having an elevated position unlike their group. They probably had to take out some Cloven scouts as well. Looking back forward, she tried to focus on the outskirts of the outpost, trying to see if she could find the wagons or Giraldi’s group. It took a moment, but she saw a slight movement on the western side of the outpost, and was about to inform the group when another Marine beat her to it. “Found them,” he said, his eyes on those binoculars. His left arm pointed in the same direction Gilda was looking, and the rest of the group nodded with affirmation as they too seemed to watch the scene below them. A group of griffins flew a high, stayed in that position for a minute or so before they dove back down. Gilda could guess they were confirming the information Guerrero sent them. Looking back at the Cloven, Gilda didn’t see any odd movement from the patrol. Either the Cloven didn’t see the griffin spotters, or they didn’t care. She watched as the wagons paused, then began to move forward, while the griffins began to fly to another direction, before traveling in parallel to the wagons. “Ma’am, they are moving to attack position,” Guerrero declared. Gilda could only nod silently, taking a deep breath as a means to lessen the weight that suddenly seemed to settle on her throat. Then, it started. One shot from a gun echoed, surprisingly loud at the distance. From the soft gasp coming from a griffin, probably an Arician, they too seemed surprised at the noise. Before anyone could speak, another shot rang out, then another. It was not the continuous firing she was used to, but she guessed it was because Imlay was meticulously trying to make sure he got each shot to kill a Corrupted mage. It was working. She saw the smaller figures going down, before a bright blue-ish light of a shield spell popped up. The Cloven defense started moving, probably trying to find where the attack was coming from. That’s when the wagons came into play. They didn’t charge forward as she expected, but rather traveled parallel to the Cloven defensive line. One wagon went ahead of the other, and both stopped with a distance between them. She could make out a few griffins flying either beside it, or behind it. Before she could focus more on that, the blue dome was suddenly engulfed in a rather spectacular explosion of dust and fire.   “Heh, yeah! Get some!” one Marine said. Gilda focused, seeing the shield collapse and the wagons start firing. While she knew that gunfire was still loud enough to be heard in their location, the continuous firing echoed in the air with sharp pops. The Aricians seemed to be conversing with each other. “That’s why we ordered every griffin to have the—” she looked at Guerrero “—what did you call those again?” “Earplugs,” he responded neutrally. “Thank you,” Gilda replied, before digging her claw into one of the compartments in her armor. She pulled out a pair, before looking back at the scene below them. “That’s why you were ordered to have those earplugs. If you can hear it from here, it will definitely deafen you when we start attacking.” There was another mumble amongst the Aricians, but it soon began settling down. Gilda could hear some movement behind her, probably the griffins getting them out to wear them when the signal was given. She reflected on the things the griffins and humans were sharing with each other as she watched the Cloven began to move towards the wagons. Part of her wondered if this was just a small preview of things to come, maybe a trade agreement. Another part of her told her that it wouldn’t matter if the Cloven killed them all. She watched as Giraldi’s group began streaking towards a weak formation of the Cloven’s defense, then letting out a stream of bolts that caught a few before they banked away sharply. The wagons were also moving, getting further and further from each other. One of the louder vehicles seemed to focus on one of the Spikers, before it quickly fell on the onslaught of the Marine’s attacks. “Ancestors above,” one griffin swore. “Now is not the time to be impressed,” Gilda declared loudly, calmly. “We’re about to go in.” If it were any other race, the outpost would have been in chaos. The Cloven however, acted as they always did. As their numbers fell, more and more of them began to march where they were needed, calmly, in line and formation. More and more Corrupted mages began to converge, probably to combine their shield spell to protect their forces. Watching them move, she  then knew it was time to strike. Plugging in her ears, she raised her claw and ordered, loudly, “Let’s go!” The Marines moved quickly towards their partners, mounting up before their whole group took to the air. The rush of wind seemed to call on Gilda as she moved in a much more quickened pace than earlier. Looking behind her, she saw her group following with the same speed. They all looked ready. She internally smiled. Banking towards their left, she decided to strike at an angle, right between the formation of two moving Cloven groups that were spaced apart. As she drew closer, she spotted a mage traveling with them, and automatically grabbed her crossbow. Pulling the notching rod, she waited, drawing nearer, before she pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to slow down around her. Her eyes focused on the Corrupted mage, seeing her in vivid detail. She was already half-rotting, with the staff she carried already worn and burnt with use, her wings almost bald, exposing the sickly green flesh underneath the feathers. She seemed to turn her head, her blank eyes spotting Gilda’s approach. She raised her staff, about to call a powerful spell to kill her group, when Gilda released the bolt. It flew steady and true, spinning on an arc as it flew directly to the mage’s left blank eye. The Cloven around the mage roared as they too turned to face Gilda. She spread her wings, slowing her flight, and allowed the group behind her to overtake her—the group with the mounted Marines. The griffins landed on the croach, breaking the surface with their sharp claws, making the ground bleed with green liquid. The Marines dismounted quickly, their rifles trained at the charging Cloven, before they opened fire. The earplugs muted the sound, but it was still loud. Some of the griffins on the ground flinched slightly, but didn’t move their eyes away from their own targets as they took out their own crossbows and began firing. Gilda took a moment to check if there was any change of movement on the defenders. It seemed the Cloven realized what the plan was, and were now ignoring the wagons and traveling towards them. If they didn’t move quickly enough, they’d be surrounded before they could reach the Heart. “Charge!” Gilda shouted, emphasizing her command to the still-flying group by pointing her foreleg forward. They understood, splitting into two groups, traveling parallel with the Marines in the ground, with only Fortrakt and Nydia staying behind. She gave them a nod, which she got in return, before they dove towards the center, making sure they didn’t get into the Marine’s line of fire. Landing on the croach felt really odd. There was some sort of resistance to the surface, which instead of being solid, felt more flesh-like. It was warm and it bled with every step. It was so alien. Shaking her head, she approached Guerrero, and pointed towards the approaching Cloven. He just nodded with understanding, and motioned towards the Heart. She nodded back.   The Marines mounted on their griffin partners while the rest of the griffins flanked them on both sides. Bolts flew from their crossbows towards the closest Cloven as they flew in a straight line towards the Heart. Gilda felt elated. The strike came in too fast for the Cloven Troopers to catch up. Gilda’s group would reach the Heart before they could get caught. That’s when she felt a slight shift in the wind. She didn’t know where it came from, but she knew, somehow, it was a danger. “Get down!” she shouted, and two Spiker tails whipped in an arc through the air, almost hitting three flying griffins. “Spikers!” Fortrakt called. “Double notch your crossbows!” Gilda ordered, her throat burning, either from worry or because of her shouting. Thankfully, the griffins around her heard and obeyed her command, pulling the rod of their crossbows fully as they continued to fly low. The two Spikers were accompanied by more Troopers, probably the last defense the Heart had, and when they were in range, she shouted, “Aim for the heads!” The bolts flew fast, and hit the the left Spiker dead on, having five bolts hit its head. Its tail swung wildly as it roared, hitting a few of its fellow Cloven before it went down when shot at again. The last Spiker was luckier, using its thick arms to block the incoming bolts. It roared, bleeding, but when it regained balance, its tail began to move. Gilda was about to order the group to disperse when another Marine, Anderson, if she remembered the name correctly, came forward, his rifle pointed at the Spiker. “Get down!” he shouted. Gilda saw that his weapon had the same bottom attachment as Imlay’s, and it shot out smoke before the ground suddenly shook as the air exploded in front of them. Dust fogged up their surroundings while croach started to shower down. The Marines didn’t seem to care for that as they began to shoot at the remaining Troopers, charging forward, almost leaving the shocked and confused griffins around them. “Nydia!” Gilda shouted, looking at their Magus Knight. The mage gave her a nod and followed the Marines before Gilda nudged Fortrakt. “Defend Nydia as she brings the Heart down! Form up on the left! I’ll take the right!” Fortrakt nodded, and together they grabbed the griffins near them. Shocked as they were, the Gryphon training was showing as they began to go to a formation as they followed the Marines. There were more gunfire as they approached, the Marines taking out Troopers with deadly efficiency as they too seemed to form a perimeter around Nydia. Fortrakt went to the left, angled away so they wouldn’t be shot by the Marines with them, while Gilda followed suit, and they too began to shoot bolts out with zeal, as if not to allow the Marines to get all the glory. When the Heart came to full view, Nydia stopped. Pulsing with green veins, pumping rather erratically, it seemed to realize that it was doomed. Trooper presence had increased as well, charging forward more rapidly than before. Bullets tore them to pieces, while the bolts struck them, slowing some of them down. Gilda felt a shiver run through her spine as Nydia began calling magic, powerful enough to make her feathers stand on end. She wondered how long before the mage could get the spell done, shooting at the Troopers that ran at them with an odd frenzy. Then came the lightning, a bright spark of light slamming down directly towards the Heart, striking it down almost exactly in the middle. Following that, a loud thunderclap, comparably as loud as the Marine’s big gun in intensity, but stirred the air as powerfully as an explosion. There was a second of stillness before it began pouring croach. Unlike earlier, this one came in hot and very heavy, as if Gilda and her group were in a middle of a storm. Unbothered by the slime covering them, the group still continued shooting at the neverending charging Troopers. Each fell one by one, but they continued to run towards them, as if to exact vengeance. There was even a roar of Spikers coming in from behind them. Then a roar of thunder echoed loudly in the air as one of the wagons with three Marines, one operating that big gun of theirs, rolled in to assist Gilda’s group. The continuous stream of fire almost ground the charging group to a halt, cutting a swathe through the large group. “Ma’am!” Guerrero shouted. Gilda looked at him. “Corporal says there’s a large group converging towards us, as well as Flyers coming in! We have to go now!” Checking the sky, she saw that was correct. A dark cloud was converging towards them, and she knew there was no way to fight them off. Nodding towards Guerrero, she gave the order, “Retreat! Retreat!” The Marines began to mount their griffin partners once more, while the rest of them took towards the sky. The wagon continued to pour out fire as it began to move back as well, keeping the Troopers off Gilda’s back. She waited until everyone of her group had left before launching herself to the sky. She didn’t look back. She ignored the roars that came behind her, or the sporadic fire of the wagon. Gilda just kept her eyes forward as she began catching up with her group. As the roars became softer, and the gunfire stopped, a sudden rush of tiredness began to seep into her muscles. The dryness of her throat was getting more pronounced. She found herself removing the earplugs, just in time to hear Guerrero talking on the radio. “—Touchdown. I say again, Touchdown. No casualties.” Gilda blinked, then looked at her group. Some were bleeding, but no one dead. Her chest soared, the tiredness giving way to triumph. They destroyed an outpost with just a clawful, and they didn’t lose anyone. “Ma’am?” Guerrero called. Gilda blinked, and adjusted her flight to approach him and his griffin partner, feeling a slight dread. “What is it? Was there any casualties from Giraldi’s side… or the Marines?” she asked. “Not really a casualty, ma’am,” he replied. “However, one griffin has been deafened. Some guy named Bri-shus?” Gilda blinked. “Bricius?” “Yeah, him,” Guerrero said. “Apparently, he didn’t put on the earplugs and got a little too close to the fifty-cal firing. Corporal Imlay wanted me to tell you for some reason. He also said Giraldi was trying to raise hell, but since the guy couldn’t hear, he didn’t bother.” She laughed. Not quite the response a leader like her should make, but at least Bricius hadn’t been seriously injured. Maybe he also learned his lesson not to underestimate the Marines. As she basked on that warm feeling of victory, she suddenly felt a cold dread hold her heart as she realized that they only got lucky this day. She looked skywards, and prayed to the Ancestors that their luck would hold.