//------------------------------//
// Chapter 15 
// Story: Feathered Heart 
// by Demon Eyes Laharl 
//------------------------------//

Gilda was in a somber mood as they slowly made their way back to Aricia. 

Looking back at her group, she saw she wasn’t the only one. The unusually chatty Fortrakt hadn’t said anything for almost thirty minutes. The earlier victory didn’t even seem to register to the group. Looking down, she saw the battle-wagon filled to the brim with the Marines, with a few earth ponies running alongside them. She couldn’t make out what the humans were saying, but they seemed to be smiling, joking with each other. 

She felt jealous of their cheerfulness. 

Aricia came into view, and she could hear a few sighs of relief from their group. Sending her claw up, she signalled the scouts to go right ahead. As they sped past her, she took a breath to calm down, then slowly descended. The group behind her followed in a solid formation. 

As she neared, she could see the scouts meeting with the centurion nearest to them. There were Talons and Guards, some patrolling the ground, the others working on rocks to create a barricade. She also spotted some Marines with them, pointing at some patches on the ground. Imlay had mentioned in a meeting—was it yesterday, or a day before? She couldn’t remember—that they wanted to add something called Claymore mines to bolster the defenses. The approaching ponies and the wagon needed a guide to the safe path so they wouldn’t be killed by the weapons. 

A few sky-griffins began moving as well, some going deeper into the heart of Aricia. Fillius ran a really tight legion, and always wanted to be kept informed of any developments. She half-wondered if he would know what had happened by the time he requested a report. Shaking her head, she led her group towards the the town, sinking lower and lower until they reached the designated landing zone near the entrance gate. It was an open square filled with a few elevated landing pads of softened ground, and ready to greet them was a party of a few Talons, Knights, Guards, and one centurion. The ponies and the wagon arrived as soon as her group landed.

It seemed her Ancestors were smiling down on her, as the centurion meeting them was Giraldi. He stood ready to greet her, saluting sharply as she landed. 

“Another good hunting, sir?” he asked. 

Not as good as it should have been, Gilda wanted to say. Instead, she went for a more neutral, “Mission was success.”

Giraldi nodded. “And that marks a week of continuous victory. A very commendable performance, sir.” He looked behind her. “Casualties?” 

“A few injuries,” Gilda replied.  “Nothing permanent.” 

“Then this week has definitely been kind to us.” 

“Maybe not too kind.” Gilda looked behind her. “As you can see, we lost a wagon.” 

“I’m sure First Spear would like to hear the details,” Giraldi said neutrally. “He is requesting to speak with you again, sir.” 

“Of course,” Gilda sighed. “As always.” 

Giraldi smiled at that. “Don’t take it personally, sir. He’s just worried.” 

“More like waiting for me to make a mistake,” Gilda muttered. She still remembered that first meeting, after Bricius tattled to the First Spear on the ‘recklessness’ of their group and requesting to transfer out. She felt it was only due to their successes that day that he never told her outright to stop the raids, though he still requested she stay at Aricia. She politely turned that request down . In turn, he had called for a meeting every time they returned to town.

Considering what had transpired, she felt he would now say a piece of his mind.  

Gilda looked towards the wagon, and caught Imlay’s eye. “Corporal, I would like to invite you to the meeting as well.” 

Imlay gave a small smile. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned back to face his Marines, and said, “Good work today, gentlemen. Go get chow; you all deserve it.” 

“Aye-aye, Corporal,” was the united reply. 

Giraldi took care of Gilda’s group while the Marines began to dismount their ride. Some began stretching their legs, then slapping each other on the back, chuckling. Some looked more serious, their lips pressed into a thin line. Imlay was a contrast as he seemed to embody the two groups. He wasn’t laughing or cajoling, but wasn’t as solemn the latter group. He looked confident and stalwart, a professional. 

Gilda waited for him to join her, as he seemed to look over one of the Marines disconnecting their fifty-cal from its placeholder before he joined her. The two then began to walk side-by-side towards the garrison. A few griffins saluted once they saw her, but let them pass uncontested. With nothing really going on, she began to drink the sights—the square wooden buildings with griffins and ponies relaxing, cubs and foals playing in the streets. 

“It is a rather odd sight,” Gilda said softly. 

Imlay took a moment before replying, “What is?” 

“The Cloven are still out there, still a threat. Yet it’s peaceful here.” 

“War hasn’t reached this place yet,” Imlay said. “We did good work for the past week, harassing the Cloven, keeping them on the defensive. You’re seeing the result of our work right here.” 

Gilda snorted. “We should have done better today.” 

“I disagree, ma’am,” Imlay replied steadily. “We did the best we could. Our luck lasted a week. It had to run out sometime.” 

“The Cloven will rebuild the Heart on that steadholt,” Gilda said. “It’s a valuable location for them, unlike the Clusters we previously raided.” 

Imlay nodded. “I expect them to.”

“All it cost us was a wagon.” 

“And it cost them time,” Imlay countered. “We didn’t lose anyone yet and we delayed them once more. I consider that a good trade.” 

Maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t, Gilda couldn’t really decide. A comfortable silence followed soon afterwards as each step took them closer and closer to the garrison. 

A few more griffins saluted at her as they arrived, but made no verbal greeting, continuing on their way as they passed. It was pretty much a straight shot towards Fillius, who was sitting behind a desk filled with reports. He gave them a look as Gilda opened the door, snapping a sharp salute before making a move to clear his desk. 

“Thank you for meeting with me again, Sub-Tribune,” Fillius finally said. 

Gilda nodded, then replied, trying not to sound bitter, “We do seem to have a lot of these meetings, First Spear.” 

“And you have returned much earlier than anticipated,” Fillius commented. 

Gilda closed her eyes for a second before asking, “What do you need, First Spear?” 

Fillius actually shifted uncomfortably. “I think an apology is in order.” 

That caused her to blink. “An apology?” 

Fillius paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Sir, I made no secret that I felt your missions were too risky. The amount of soldiers in your ‘scouting’ group was far too small to cause any significant damage to the Cloven and we’d just be sacrificing soldiers for no gain. Yet these reports on my table tell me otherwise.” 

Gilda relaxed a little, but felt a little cautious. “What are they?” 

“Scouting missions, sir,” Fillius replied, “or the the real ones, anyway.” 

Imlay seemed to chuckle at that. Gilda gave him a stare before looking back at the First Spear. 

He continued, “The reports all seem to say the same thing: that the Cloven are in disarray. The marching group that was initially spotted coming to Aricia have either slowed or outright retreated.” He took a breath. “Sir, you’ve delayed them more than our defenses could ever have with just a limited amount of soldiers.” 

Gilda frowned. “It was mostly due to the creative tactics the Marines shared with us, First Spear.” 

He nodded in acquiescence and almost an apology. “Of course, sir. Credit due to where credit due. Still, you were able to lead a small yet very effective group of soldiers, with unknown and untested allies, and performed something just short of a miracle. That deserves to be written in the Codex.”  

Gilda felt warmth forming around her face. That was a very high compliment, something she felt that she didn’t deserve. “We merely delayed them, First Spear. We haven’t killed them yet.”

“Respectfully, sir, it was more than enough,” Fillius disagreed. “You bought us time we needed to bolster our defenses and kept the town morale up. We are more than ready when they show up to our doorstep. While I am still not fully agreeable to these raids, however, I can’t argue with results.” 

Gilda swallowed, before nodding. “Understandable, First Spear. And thank you.” 

Fillius smiled, first time since she arrived at Aricia as a Sub-Tribune. “Don’t let it get to your head, sir. It’s not over yet.” 

“No doubt,” Gilda sighed. 

“My curiosity still stands, though, sir. Why are you here early?” 

Gilda looked at Imlay for a moment, who gave her a subtle nod. Looking back at Fillius, she replied, “We made a run to the Target Bet—I mean, the Cloven steadholt nearest to Aricia.”

Fillius’ eyes gleamed dangerously. “Objectives?”

“The primary objective was to destroy the Heart. We also had a secondary objective to see if we could destroy the Overlord if present.” 

The First Spear closed his eyes for a moment. “That was incredibly perilous, sir.” 

Before Gilda could say anything, though, Imlay asked, “May I?” 

Gilda gave him a look, then back at Fillius. The First Spear studied the Corporal carefully, giving him his full attention. She gave Imlay a nod. 

“You are correct that the operation was a risk,” Imlay began smoothly. “However, it was the right move. For the past week, we’ve raided their Clusters successfully with minimal casualties. Yet with each success came stiffer resistance. They began to anticipate our movements, using different tactics to stop us.” 

Gilda remembered that. The first few Clusters they attacked, it was almost a repeat of the first one. Then, they changed their patrol positions, with the next one putting heavy numbers near the Heart; it made the usually successful quick and direct attack unfavorable. Imlay switched tactics on that day, favoring the more griffin approach, and laid waste to the outer perimeter, slowly marching inwards. The Clusters after that began alternating guard positions, as well as increasing their defenders. Some even had flyers that delayed their attack until they could punch a hole to get to the Heart. 

“I’ve read the reports, Corporal,” Fillius replied in Aeric. “Are you making a point?”

“The Clusters’ defenders were growing to a number that attacking them would be a lost cause,” Imlay replied. “So, we did something they didn’t expect.” 

Fillius nodded, understanding. “You attacked one of their strongholds instead.” He frowned. “Judging by your early return, the mission was unsuccessful?” 

Gilda shook her head. “We completed our primary objective, but the Overlord was not present in that steadholt. We were also caught unaware by their new defenses as well.” 

“Which is?” 

“They dug holes on the ground,” she replied, “covering it with a thin layer of croach. When one of our wagons went over it, it sunk, trapping a wheel. They came at us from almost all sides that we had to abandon it.” 

“Casualties, sir?” 

“Just wounded,” she said. “They are being led by Spear Centurion Giraldi to the Medica. They’ll be back to fighting form soon.” 

“Thank the Ancestors for small fortunes,” Fillius swore. He looked at them for a moment, beak tightly shut before saying, “This won’t dissuade your group, I presume?” 

“It will, actually,” Imlay replied for her. “Without two wagons, our fighting efficiency will be cut by more than half. The pony drivers will have to keep alternating to drag a double load of equipment, and if the next wagon gets caught, we won’t have an exit strategy. We’ll try to modify another wagon, but that will take a while.” 

“In short, First Spear,” Gilda finished, “we won’t be going on another mission anytime soon.” 

Fillius seemed to sigh at that. “I am somewhat ambivalent about that. If the Cloven realize your… raiding has stopped, then they might start to marshall their numbers against Aricia. However, it was still a blow to the enemy, and your group has come back safe. Thank you, sir.”

“Just doing my duty, First Spear,” she replied. 

Fillius accepted that with a nod, and turned to Imlay. “My thanks to you as well, Corporal, as well as my apologies if I came off rather rude when we first met.”

“No problem, First Spear,” Imlay replied almost magnanimously. 

Fillius seemed to have finally said all he needed to say as he gave another sharp salute and went back to his reports. An obvious dismissal, both Gilda and Imlay turned to the door and left. It was only when they finally exited the garrison that Gilda breathed easier. 

“Easier than you were expecting, ma’am?” 

Gilda turned to Imlay, who finally began showing some teeth in his smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Corporal.” 

“Of course not,” he replied. “After all, meeting with the First Spear will probably be infinitely easier than meeting with Marco.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting something, Corporal?” 

“Just that you have avoided him for the past few weeks with incredible efficiency?” Imlay asked, though there was definitely an undercurrent of teasing in his tone. 

“Preposterous,” Gilda denied. “I have just been too busy to meet with him.” 

“I’d normally say ‘likely excuse’,” Imlay began, “but then again, Marco has also been busy the past couple of days. His friendship with Fortrakt is getting stronger. Miss Nydia also seems to be spending her free time with him as well.” 

Gilda frowned. She felt something on that last sentence—annoyance, tenseness, but mostly confusion on why she felt those emotions. “Oh?” was all she asked. 

Imlay’s smile seemed to grow on that. He even paused for a moment, as if to think of a next reply, and after a few steps in silence, he said, “Come with me, ma’am.”

Gilda looked at him. “Where?” 

“My Marines should be there now,” he replied, before increasing his pace. It took a moment for Gilda to catch up with him. 

“Where exactly?”



 

Apparently, ‘there’ meant the Inn where the humans were staying. More specifically, the rear of the building. 

Last time Gilda had been there was a week ago, just before they started the first raid. The Marines had used the place as a barracks, overlooking the modification of the wagons, and also as a place to rest and practise fighting. Now, though, it looked like a restaurant. Tents were put up, with rows of low tables arranged in straight lines. There was… Gilda couldn’t describe the smell, but it wafted comfortably in the air before settling into her stomach, making it growl. 

She could see the griffins from Arnau sitting beside the Marines, drinking what she suspected was ale. There was laughter, giggles, and occasional accidents of upturned drinking bowls, much to the delight of the humans, who laughed with appreciation of drunken griffin antics. 

Gilda also suspected the Marines were inebriated too because there were a few that couldn’t seem to sit or walk straight. She looked at Imlay, who stared at the scene with some sort of satisfaction. 

“They are only this lively because no one was killed,” he said. “We led them to the enemies, and they came back alive to enjoy the victory. Hope you don’t mind them being a bit informal, ma’am.” 

Before Gilda could reply, she felt a griffin saunter at her side. “Hey, Gilda! Glad you could join us!” 

She looked at the griffin, one slightly tipsy Fortrakt, smiling at her widely. She frowned. “A little too early to get drunk, aren’t you, Gletscher?” 

“Off duty,” he replied simply. “All the griffins here are. No one is stupid enough to anger our commanding officer, after all.” 

Gilda smiled slightly. “Of course not. No one is stupid enough to get thrown through the table. Oh, wait.” 

Fortrakt just roared with laughter. “That’s the spirit! Come on, join us!” 

“Fortrakt…” 

“Come on!” he insisted. 

Gilda was led to a table that had Nydia and a few of the sky-griffins that were with her during that raid earlier today. Thankfully, not all of them completely lost themselves to the ale, and saluted as she approached. Some Marines were present as well, most notably Doc, who gave her a smile of greeting. Imlay joined in as well.

“Well, if it ain’t fearless green officer herself,” Doc said. “Finally decided to join us grunts?” 

“I didn’t know this was set up,” Gilda replied truthfully. 

“Yeah, well,” Fortrakt began, “someone thought it was a good idea to feed us and keep us away from disturbing the rest of the town. Plus the sharing of culture and things.” 

“Like what?” Gilda asked, curious. 

“Why don’t you ask Nydia?” Imlay asked, amused. 

Gilda looked at the mage, who suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. The Sub-Tribune could only give her an inquiring expression. “Yes?” 

“Well,” Nydia began slowly, then took a breath. “Did you know humans have a lot of ways to cook something?” 

“You were learning how to cook?” Gilda asked. 

“It’s really interesting,” Nydia replied, apparently getting her confidence back. “Humans seemed to have acquired a taste for complex flavors, using a lot of seasonings and spices for different desired effects.” 

“A little too much, if you ask me,” Gilda said. 

“Yup,” Fortrakt agreed. “In fact, the whole cooking thing was like a experiment. Nydia commented on the flavoring, and they finally found some sort of middle-ground when it came to cooking for both griffins and humans.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, though I still think it needs a bit more kick,” Doc replied. “Thankfully, we can add more seasoning to suit our taste.” 

Gilda nodded, beginning to see the picture. It was definitely a good idea to build camaraderie, which was especially needed now considering the circumstances. 

Then a familiar voice spoke up just behind her, making her freeze. “Too bad the ponies couldn’t join us. Apparently, the smell of cooking meat makes them somewhat uncomfortable. Oh, hey Gilda.” 

Gilda turned, seeing Marco nodding to her. He wore a white apron over his regular clothes, with the Equestrian word for ‘Chef’ written in gaudy red coloring. On his left hand was a large platter of steaming roasted meat, chopped into pieces, and on his other hand was a metal container with a spout. 

“H-hey,” Gilda greeted. 

Marco didn’t seem to notice her stutter, and proceeded to lay the platter in front of the group. “And there you go, some nice lechon kawali. Crispy skin, moist meat, and all the condiments I could get. That brown one is the lechon sauce, my mother’s recipe. It’s a little sweet. There’s also spiced vinegar and some sriracha sauce. And for the white heathens, there’s also ketchup and tabasco.” 

“Hmmm, this heathen gives you his thanks,” Doc replied, amused. 

Marco nodded, smirking, before looking towards the Corporal. “Hey Imlay. Want some sweet November Juliet?” he asked, lifting the metal container to view. 

“Thanks, Flip-Boy,” Imlay replied, raising his cup. Marco just placed the container on the table, earning an annoyed, “Hey!” from Imlay. 

“Pour it yourself, you lazy-ass,” Marco replied. “Next thing you’ll want me to do is to make you a damn sandwich before asking me to bend over.” 

“In your fucking dreams, Flip-Boy,” Imlay snorted, still smiling as he poured a familiar dark liquid in his cup. 

“Psh, in my dreams, you gave me a diamond-encrusted ring first.” Marco laughed. “Roasted chicken coming up, as well as some breads and rice. Enjoy.”

Without another word, he left the table. Gilda followed him with her eyes, noticing he took a spot a little aways from the tables. She also noticed the spot having a couple of fire pits already lit, and a collection of black cooking utensils around. She also saw a dead pig hanging from a wooden post, as well as a few chickens and game birds. She also spotted a few griffins with large knives cutting meat into pieces. Marco was actually directing them on what cuts to make. 

“So, Gilda, was that part of your ambush?” Fortrakt asked. “Because it looked like he ambushed you instead.”

Gilda blinked, then stared at Fortrakt, who was now taking a bite out of the meat. He gave her an indiscernible look. 

“What?” he asked. “It’s actually pretty good.” 

Gilda looked towards Nydia, who was now apparently finding the conversation she was having with Doc really interesting and never looked at her way. The Sub-Tribune then looked at Imlay, who was peacefully drinking his ‘November Juliet’ (though she could have sworn it smelled like coffee). 

“He’s the one cooking?” was all she could say. 

“Quite well, too,” Doc replied. “Better than MREs at any rate.” 

“I wish he could do pizza, though,” Imlay muttered. 

“Why don’t you ask that, then, Corporal?” 

“Because I don’t want him pissing on my food.” 

That got Doc laughing, along with a few of the Marines. 

Gilda looked around. “Was this his idea?” 

“He said he got bored waiting for you to confront him,” Fortrakt answered. When Gilda gave him a look again, he shrugged. “Yeah, I told him. He even told me he was planning to do some hide and seek to make it fun, but you never really came after him. So, he just grabbed Nydia and began showing her how to cook meat and asked her to taste it.” 

Gilda turned to the mage, who looked down on the table, peacefully eating, clearly embarrassed. She still didn’t know how to feel about that. Looking at Imlay, Gilda narrowed her eyes. “I won’t be forgetting this anytime soon,” she said to him. 

Imlay raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Hmm? Forget what?” 

Gilda growled. “Give me some ale,” she said to no one in particular. 

To be fair, it was an enjoyable lunch. She didn’t imbibe on much ale, opting to listen to Marines talk about their raids, each story, unsurprisingly, getting more fantastical after each telling. Griffins began to join in as well, some even commenting on how they dodged spells and flying spines with maneuvers that were only practical in a Wonderbolts or Silver Wings show.  

In-between the tales, Gilda looked at Marco going to other tables. Sometimes he served the food and drinks, sometimes he just sat down and listened to the other Marines and griffins tell their tales. He smiled, laughed, and even partook in the festivities for a bit. 

He never looked at her once. 

Again, Gilda didn’t know how to feel about that. 

It was around mid afternoon when the chatter finally seemed to die down. Griffins began to leave the place, and some Marines began to excuse themselves as well. Imlay was already gone, apparently wanting to check on the status of the pickets outside the town gates, leaving her with Nydia.

Well, Fortrakt too, but he was sleeping after probably drinking a little too much.

“Sir?” 

Gilda blinked then looked at the mage, who still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Yes, Nydia?” 

“I know I said I wouldn’t interfere—” 

Gilda internally grumbled. What was it with that whole interfering thing again? 

“—however, he asked for my help. He asked Gletscher first, but for some reason, he turned Marco down. And I was also… interested. In the cooking, I mean.” 

Gilda could only sigh. Yes, she could see Nydia wanting to try it, considering the interest she had with the humans. Fortrakt had some interest too, but Gilda guessed that was more about their weapons. 

“Did anyone bother him?” she asked. 

Nydia frowned. “Well, there was an incident or two.” 

Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “With who?” 

“Bricius,” Nydia replied. “He had another Talon eagless with him, and they blocked us when we went on our way around town to buy some supplies for the food.” 

Gilda straightened, wondering what that tiercel was thinking. “Did Bricius do anything?” 

Nydia shook her head. “He was just… well, trying to look intimidating.” 

“Trying?” 

“In all honesty, the Talon accompanying him looked more dangerous,” Nydia replied. “She had more armor than he did and looked blooded.” 

Gilda frowned. “Then, did Marco do anything?” 

“Well, he asked what Bricius wanted, and when he said nothing, we just left.” 

She hoped that wasn’t a sign for future trouble. Sighing again, she gave the mage a nod. “Thank you for watching out for him, Nydia.” 

“It’s the least I can do, sir.” 

“Least you can do, what?” 

Gilda almost jumped, and looked behind her to see Marco walking on to them, a questioning expression on his face. 

“Just thanking her for looking after you,” she replied. She tried to smile, but for some reason, her beak wouldn’t cooperate. 

“Ah, yeah,” Marco replied, grinning. “She’s been a great guide around town and as a translator as well. Which reminds me, Nyds, do you have any kind of gem that could let me speak Aeric?” 

“Um, that’s more complicated,” Nydia replied. 

“Really?” Marco blinked. “I mean, this Translation Gem seems to work on the same principle, and that was easy for you to do.” 

“The Translation Gem you have works by receiving a language and forming a basic image for you in your head,” Gilda answered this one, beating Nydia’s reply. “You’re not actually hearing anything in Equestrian, but forming a rough idea of what is being said. That’s why Aeric sounds so weird to you.” 

Marco looked at Nydia for confirmation. The mage nodded in agreement. “The Translation Gem basically can translate because it’s connected to you. What you are asking for is something completely different.”

“Huh. So I can’t just put a Translation Gem in my tongue and start speaking in Yoda Aeric, eh?” 

Nydia’s eyes widened. “Why would anyone want to pierce their tongue?” 

Marco smiled. “Some humans do.” 

The mage couldn’t speak for a few moments. “Humans are odd,” she finally said. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Marco replied, now fully grinning. He looked at Fortrakt’s sleeping form, then gently kicked his haunches. The tiercel grunted. “Hey, drunk-ass. I’m inviting you again for another supply run.” 

Fortrakt could only mumble in his state. Marco rolled his eyes then looked at Nydia. “Guess you’re with me again.” 

The mage looked at Gilda, who after a moment just gave her a slight nod. Nydia then looked at Marco and bobbed her head. 

Marco grinned. “Alright, I’ll just get out of this getup and let’s hit the town again. Later.” 

Without another word, Marco left them alone, walking towards the rear entrance of the inn. Gilda watched him go, a frown forming in her face. Part of her wondered why she felt disappointed, only to jerk up again when Fortrakt made his opinion known. 

“Wow. He didn’t even ask you.” 

Gilda responded like she was supposed to: swiping her wing at his face, then enjoying his muttering of complaints. “I’m sorry, what was that?” she asked. 

“Hmph, you’re only mad because he completely ignored you,” Fortrakt mumbled as he rubbed the side of his head. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “He didn’t ignore me.” 

“Right, that’s why you interjected on a conversation about magic between him and Nydia.” 

“Gletscher, don’t bring me into this,” Nydia muttered. 

Fortrakt mumbled something incoherent, then looked at Gilda. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

One of Gilda’s eyes widened. “Waiting for?” 

“Go after him, stupid,” Fortrakt replied. “Apologize or ambush him already.” 

Her eyes narrowed again, a soft growl escaping her beak. A moment later, she breathed deeply, then looked at where Marco had gone. She sighed. “I’m going to confront him. I’ve delayed it longer than I should have.” 

“Yes, sir,” Fortrakt replied, smiling widely. 

Gilda stood up, then looked at her partner. “Also, Gletscher, call me stupid again, I’ll re-assign you to Logistica and have Aelia make you do latrine duties.” She left as soon as Fortrakt began to sputter a protest. 

Entering the rear entrance of the inn, Gilda looked around, trying to figure out where Marco ran off to. After a moment, she climbed up the stairs towards the room he was assigned to. She knocked on the door, then waited until a feminine voice replied, “Come in.” 

Gilda opened the door to a modest-sized room. There was no kitchen, just a small antechamber that lead to the living room area, where she saw Tara sitting on one of the couches. 

“Hey, Gilda,” Tara greeted with a smile. “Been a while.” 

“Hello, Tara,” Gilda replied back. She looked around for a moment, then asked, “Is Marco here?” 

Tara nodded. “He’s dressing up. I think he’s about to—” 

There was a click of a door closing, and a few seconds later, Marco appeared from the hallway leading to the rooms, dressed up in another set of clean clothes that no longer had the scent of smoked meat clinging to it. He looked at the eagless for a moment, surprised, then turned slightly neutral. 

“Gilda, hey. This is a surprise.” 

“Can we talk?” Gilda blurted out. Then after a moment, she added, “Please?” 

Marco paused, then nodded. “I reckon we should. Walk with me?” 

“Sure.” 

He turned to face Tara. “Hey, Chris is sleeping. Want anything?” 

“I’m fine. See you later.” 

“Yeah, later.” 

Gilda felt an awkward silence descend on them after they exited the room and climbed down the stairs. She wanted to say a lot of things, but for some reason, couldn’t find a way to start the conversation. Marco didn’t help, either, also staying silent. Once they reached the ground level, though, she decided that a simple opening was the best. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Marco looked at her for a moment, shook his head, then asked, “Sorry about what?” 

The eagless sighed. “For ignoring you the past week.” 

“It’s fine,” Marco said. “I understand, you were angry at me for some reason.” 

“Maybe I was angry for the first day or two, but afterwards… well—” Gilda grunted. 

After a moment, Marco asked, “But afterwards, what?” 

“It sounds silly.” 

“I promise I won’t laugh,” Marco said, then smirked. “Well, not too hard anyway.” 

Gilda stared at him. “You’re not making it any easier for me.” 

“I’m sure your ego will mend,” Marco said, smile widening. 

Gilda snorted. “Fine. I used you as my Return Talisman, okay? There. I said it.” 

Marco blinked then looked at her. “Uh, okay, you’re going to have to give me some context. Starting with ‘what the hell is a Return Talisman’.” 

“It’s… something of a good luck charm for safe returns,” Gilda explained. “I kept going on about confronting you when I returned, and I was looking forward to that. After that first day of raiding, when we came out almost unscathed after destroying three Hearts, I didn’t want to confront you yet. I thought… well…” 

“You know, I actually get that,” Marco interjected. “You thought if you kept putting it off, you wouldn’t die until you got that confrontation with me.” 

Gilda felt her face heat up. “Like I told you, silly.” 

“Not completely,” he said. “I understand people can get rather superstitious when facing danger. Marines have that too, you know. I know of one Sergeant that would throw out any Charms candy that came with their MREs.”

Hearing that term the second time, Gilda asked, “Okay, what’s an MRE?” 

“Meals Ready to Eat,” Marco explained. “It’s basically a ration pack filled with carbohydrates that gives energy to any marching soldier. Candies are part of that package.” 

Gilda nodded. “I’ve seen some Marines pulling out food in those brown packs.” 

“Yup, those,” Marco said. “Now, back to making me your Return Talisman.” 

“Can we not?” Gilda muttered, feeling her face heating up once more. 

“Well,” Marco ignored her, “I can see why you’re a little embarrassed. I mean, I’ve heard of soldiers and Marines looking forward to get back home to their loved ones, giving them that little push to fight harder, but really? Looking forward to confront me was your push?” 

“Marco, I’m going to hit you.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually honored,” Marco continued. “It gives a new meaning of ‘a guy worth fighting for’. Well, maybe in your case, remove the last word.” 

“I have my claws out,” Gilda warned. “And your back is very exposed.” 

Marco laughed before facing her, holding up his two hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Anyways, apology accepted, Gilda.” 

“Well, thank you,” the eagless replied with an undertone of sarcasm in her voice. 

“Though by telling me, won’t that compromise your Talisman-thingy?” 

Gilda sighed. “Considering I’ll be stuck here for a few days, I think the luck ran its course.” 

Marco raised an inquiring eyebrow. “What happened?” 

“We lost a wagon. Imlay says we can’t go out until we get another.” 

“Was anyone killed?” he asked. 

“No, thank the Ancestors.” 

They finally arrived at the entrance of the inn and Marco pushed the door open, letting the two out. Two Marines standing guard greeted them as they passed. As Marco and Gilda crossed the road, the eagless could see Nydia across the road, waiting. When the mage saw them, though, she froze. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re back safe and sound, Gilda,” Marco said as they reached the still-frozen Nydia. “Hopefully, you can visit more often.” 

“I’ll try,” Gilda said. 

Awkward silence descended on them again. Marco looked to his side, then scratched the back of his neck, while Gilda felt like wanting to scratch her wings. 

Marco broke the silence. “Uh, well, good-bye, I guess?”  

“Y-yeah.” 

He looked at Nydia, who was now alternating between looking at the two. “So, ready to go?” he asked.

“I’m sorry!” Nydia suddenly blurted out. “I was just called for duty. I can’t come with you! I’m sorry!” Then, without warning, she suddenly dashed away clumsily; she hit a passing griffin on her way. 

Both Marco and Gilda watched her escape with some sort of wonder and bewilderment. The human looked at the eagless and asked, “What was that?” 

Gilda shrugged. “I don’t know. She seems to get really weird at times.” 

Marco frowned. “Well, that’s… uh.” He looked at her. “Are you free?” 

Gilda looked at him for a moment, confused, then nodded. “Um, yeah. I’m free now, yes.” 

“Want to come with me?” he asked. 

It took a moment before she said, “Yes.” 

“Oh, thank God. I really ought to learn some Aeric expressions, though—huh.” 

Gilda blinked, seeing Marco staring at the space where Nydia ran off to. Looking towards that direction, she spotted Bricius as well as an armored Talon sky-griffin eagless at his side. It felt definitely odd to her. The two were just staring at them. 

“That’s the fourth time I’ve seen them this week,” Marco said. 

“I know,” Gilda replied. “Nydia told me.”

“You know them?” 

“I know the tiercel, Bricius. He was with us during the first day of raiding, but he transferred out. The eagless, though, I have no idea.” She paused. “Were they bothering you?” 

“Not really. Just found them strange, considering they never say anything to me. Come on. The markets will be full soon.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two began to walk away from the somewhat imposing griffin duo. Gilda mentally reminded herself to have Fortrakt or Nydia guard Marco if he ever went out alone. She felt Bricius was up to something, and she didn’t need another problem arising. 

When they were far from the inn, Gilda finally asked, “So, I heard you were talking about me with the Marines. What was that about?” 

He blinked, then looked at her. “Huh?” 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me,” Gilda said with a roll of her eyes. “Imlay told me you talked to them about me.” 

Marco turned away, looking forward. “Uh, yeah. I mean, it was just the usual talk.” 

“Define usual.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal?” 

Gilda stepped in front of him, turning sideways to block him. “Are you being deliberately obtuse?” 

Marco seemed to ponder on the answer for a moment before nodding. “Maybe a little. Hey, come on. The market is near, and I don’t want to miss on the good stuff.” 

Gilda gave him a deadpan expression before saying, “I’m not letting you pass until you tell me, Marco.” 

“Oh, come on. It’s a little embarrassing, okay?” 

“I’m sure your ego will mend,” Gilda replied with smirk.

Marco rolled his eyes. “Yeah, very clever. Look, they just asked me what I thought of you, and how you’re leading the griffins. I just said I thought you were doing great, and I… well…” 

They stood there, silent for a moment, until Gilda lost her patience. “Well, what?” 

Marco sighed. “I said that you were a cool griffin, okay?” 

The eagless blinked. While Sergeant Reyes had said as much, she never actually heard Marco admit it. For a moment, she wondered what to say next. In the end, she just chuckled before moving on. 

“What?” Marco demanded, taking a few steps to catch up to her. 

“You, saying such a dorky lie.” 

“No, it’s not!” Marco protested. 

“Whatever, dorky liar.” 

“This is payback for making you confess about that Totem thingy, isn’t it?” 

“Psh, what are you talking about?”

He laughed. “Now that is a dorky lie.”

“Whatever. You think I’m a cool griffin.” 

“Yeah, getting less cool by the minute. Come on, let’s see what the market has.”