The Other Jake

by PhycoKrusk

Of Things to Come

The situation in Eisendorf was bleak. Bleaker even than it had been one week prior when Die Trauer Stern had first set anchor there. The situation in the mine had not improved, and many were claiming by then that it had gotten worse. Families packed their belongings. Lovers looked forlornly at the streets their children would never play in. Even the few enemies there were put aside old grudges and quietly admitted to themselves that they would miss their foes. Eisendorf was dying, and it was time to leave.

And then, Die Trauer Stern burst through the clouds like a ray of sunlight, and with a resounding cheer, the Eisendorfers forgot all about the need to go somewhere else. Griffons ran through the street and took to the air, following as best they could as the airship sped by at a brisk sixty knots, and darted out of the way when its propellers stopped and reversed direction as it descended. Just a few yards above the ground and nearly at a dead stop, the propellers silenced completely and the anchors dropped. Moments after, the ladder descended, and then Alexios with it, not having bothered to even change out of his flight uniform, and not waiting for the ladder to finish winding itself back up before tightly gripping the carrier bag around his shoulders and taking off in a run towards the mine. Moments after that, Jacoby leapt from the deck, likewise still in uniform, and beat his wings rapidly to catch up to the minotaur.

“Bring a pick!” he shouted, “I need a pick!”

Jacoby landed harder than he meant to, although he ignored the small pain in his ankles for the moment, a short distance from the mine and ran the rest of the way. Alexios was already there, and so was Ansgar, the latter looking as if he might start crying at any moment, a pickaxe clutched tightly in his talons. “One week!” he exclaimed, voice barely steady, “You said one week, and here you are!”

“And here I am.” Jacoby did not stop to shake talons or even to regard the older griffon, but slowed to a quick march and advanced immediately to the bag that Alexios had placed on the ground, opening it and withdrawing a large ball made of dark wood. The ball would have been otherwise unremarkable if it had not been completely covered in a mess of haphazardly carved runes that luminesced with red light so sharp and bright that it looked angry. The ball was placed on the ground, near the boulder Alexios had previously destroyed a pickaxe on.

“You can fix it, then?” Ansgar asked excitedly, “That little globe will fix everything?"

“It fixed everything in testing,” Jacoby replied, “But that wasn’t on quite this scale, so the plain truth is that I have no idea if this will work or not.” He paused for a moment, and seemingly content with the placement of the wooden ball covered with angry, luminescent red runes, and turned to face the crowd, which had grown suddenly quiet and somber at his admission that despite it all, they might still be leaving home. “I know that nogriffon here, myself included, puts any stock in prayer. The ponies have their Princesses to grant whatever wish they want, while Siegfried taught us to solve our problems ourselves. But he’s the greatest of all griffons. He laid low the fiercest of dragons, hunted the largest sea serpents, and stopped the sun from moving across the sky, if just for a few moments. He doesn’t listen to or answer prayers, and I don’t think he’ll ever start, but if there was ever a time to ask him for help, it’s right now.”

Jacoby turned back to the boulder that had, only a week prior, defied the efforts of Alexios to damage it, and felt his stomach twist in knots as he extended a claw and accepted the pickaxe from Ansgar, took a few steps forward, rose to his hind legs and spread his wings just slightly to keep his balance. Raising the tool up, he swung it at the boulder as hard as he dared to, and it resonated with the sound of a ringing bell when it impacted against the stone, the force rattling what felt like every bone in his body. All present felt their hopes sink lower than they ever had, the stone seeming just as unyielding as it had been.

“It worked!” Jacoby shouted. And then he raised the pickaxe and struck the stone again. And then again, and again, and again, harder and faster with each blow, until the boulder began to crack. As the first chips of rock fell to the ground, a thunderous roar of triumph rose from what sounded like the whole of Eisendorf. Jacoby dropped the pickaxe to the ground with a clatter and threw his talons into the air as he was rushed by every griffon present, the few non-griffons present, and Alexios. “It worked!” he shouted again, somehow over the cheering crowd, as Alexios hefted him onto his shoulder for all to see, the same way he once had years before.

Families wept with joy. Lovers kissed. Even the few enemies there were forgot old grudges and embraced. “Heil!” they all shouted, "Heil! Heil! Heil!” And still, Jacoby was not finished.

“Stoke the furnaces and bring iron!” he ordered, “I know what to do!”

With a final shout of triumph, the crowd scattered and bolted for the stores of metal and charcoal they had been so carefully conserving, and the fires of industry burned into the night as the creatures of Eisendorf forged and wrought, and more and more and more ingots were covered in angry, luminescent, red runes with every passing hour.

---

Jacoby possessed two aviation jackets that were fitted for him. The first was older, well-worn and cared for, and had a patch of leather on the right sleeve to cover a hole left by an arrow years earlier. It was the one he preferred to wear, when he had the option. The second was just as old, but looked nearly new, as it was rarely worn except on certain occasions. The leather was unmarred and well-conditioned, and did not so much as creak when he moved in it. But most significant to this jacket was the trio of medals hanging from the left breast. The first was a simple, silver lion’s paw, a Badge of Valor that was commonly awarded to the Confederation’s soldiers and mercenary forces after combat. It was akin to a merit badge, and did not carry any special meaning aside from showing that he had seen combat. The other two were a different story altogether.

The first of the gold medals was the Sword of Siegfried, awarded for 'uncommon valor and gallantry in combat in the face of overwhelming odds.' The second was the Shield of Siegfried, awarded ‘uncommon and unwavering resolve in the face of a great challenge.’ Both were high honors, but what really made them unique was the fact that most individuals who received them did so posthumously by being too stubborn to quit when it was clearly beneficial to do so. There was no doubt that these three medals, combined with the jacket, did help Jacoby cut an especially dashing look. But they also meant that he had to stand quietly behind a curtain and wait until his cue came. And when it did, the applause as he walked out into view from stage left almost made the waiting worthwhile.

The square in Griffondorf had become host to a quickly built stage, upon which an older minister in Parliament, important enough to host public functions but not important enough to sway much in the way of opinions, stood alongside a much younger aide who carried a small, wooden case in his talons, both of them dressed in tuxedoes. Behind them in a grandstand waited other officials, including several field officers from the army, a few other ministers, and some others whose jobs Jacoby wouldn’t begin to guess. All of them watched him with expressions that managed to be restrained, but telegraphed clear expectations of him at the same time.

In front of the stage, by contrast, was as many denizens of Griffondorf as could be accommodated, as well as several visitors from out of town. The four days that had passed since the triumph in Eisendorf had given them all plenty of time to plan to arrive to see the griffon that was already being called (by the less reputable, more sensational publications) the 'greatest hero of the modern age.' The front row was host to several journalists and photographers from various newspapers, as well as other individuals of note who were not notable enough to sit with the officials, including Alexios, Hänsel, and even the Duchess, who looked less unhappy about seeing Jacoby than usual. As he reached the minister and his aide, Jacoby came to a halt, and gradually the applause did as well.

“You proved your dedication to your country and your kin many years ago in the Three Kingdoms War, Jacoby Flynn,” said the minister. “We were right to honor your actions then, and we are right to honor them now. You are the ideal that every griffon should strive to emulate. A hero to inspire us all.” He paused just long enough to turn to the aide next to him, retrieving a small object of polished gold affixed to a red ribbon from the wooden box. “It is with great honor that I present you with your second Shield of Siegfried, to commemorate your unfaltering resolve in the face of an insurmountable challenge.”

With a steady, deliberate motion, the minister pinned the medal to Jacoby’s jacket, and a round of applause rose from the crowd as the two shook talons. The minister motioned to the microphone, and then left the stage with his aide, both of them joining the other officials in attendance. Jacoby approached the device, and then stood and waited for the applause to calm down.

"Well," Jacoby said into the microphone after a moment. "Those of you who read the papers might well know this is not the first time I've been called a hero. I didn't feel particularly deserving of the title then, and I don't feel particularly deserving of it now.

"It is conduct as much, if not more than action that truly defines heroism. Conduct that is shown through the ideals of courage, honor, humility, civility, and cunning. Ideals that I have seen everyday, ever since the sky danced with rivers of light barely two weeks ago.

"In the face of the unknown, we were not cowed by fear. We did not manufacture reasons to escape from promises that were no longer convenient. We did not pretend to be our neighbors' superior if their own courage faltered, and comforted and aided them until it returned. And when the forces that we faced prevented us from moving forward, we did not surrender to them, but looked for a new path to our destination.

"I don't think I'm especially heroic. But if I am a hero, I will know that I will see myself reflected in those ideals I have seen in each of you. Today, my friends, we must acknowledge not the hero who stands on stage, but the hero that lives in each of us, and go forward knowing that when we stand together, that although many challenges will be great, no challenge will ever be insurmountable.”

A roar of applause rose from the assembled crowd: Jacoby Flynn, the hero of the common griffon. He looked out with a smile across his features, taking a few extra moments as he looked about to look at his more personal supporters in the front row, Alexios and Hänsel both clapping excitedly and grinning as broadly as he was, and even the Duchess was visibly happy, as small as her smile and restrained as her applause both were. Finally, he dared to cast a glance towards the Parliamentary officials. Like the rest of the assembled crowd, they were applauding, although their lack of smiles indicated that it was out of politeness, rather than genuine gratitude. Jacoby could not bring himself to be surprised by this.

The hero of the common griffon had refused to say so much as one word about Equestria.

---

It was half-passed ten at night when Jacoby pushed open the door of his house and tiredly heaved himself inside, Alexios filing in right after him and closing the door to shut out the chilly air. “I can hardly believe we escaped with our lives,” said the griffon in a half-serious manner, undoing the snap fasteners of his flight jacket.

“I saw the look those staff officers were given you,” Alexios remarked, striping off his suit jacket in turn. Both minotaur and griffon hung their jacket on a coat rack to one side and advanced into the living room proper, although Alexios paused long enough to grab a folded newspaper from one of his pockets. With the flick of a switch, electric lamps illuminated the room. “It might be a miracle you didn’t just burst into flames.”

“It would’ve put griffons at the forefront of weapons technology if I had! Anger not the griffons of the north, or we shall look upon you with a great and furious disapproval!”

Alexios moved straight to the fireplace, unfolded the newspaper just enough to crumple it, and then tossed it in. While he did, Jacoby flopped down onto the sofa, sprawled out like an enormous cat (which, all things considered, was not a difficult thing for him). “I’m telling you, Alex, these events aren’t in any way fair.” Rolling onto his back, he loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt. “I always feel vaguely ill-at-ease at the end of one. The staff works so hard to make it enjoyable, but I have to wonder who’s actually enjoying it.”

Alexios piled a short log onto the newspaper, followed by a second. “Try not to feel too bad, Jake,” he said, adding a third log to the heap. “We need to face the facts, award ceremonies aren’t meant to be enjoyed by mortal creatures. It’s not just you. We all hate ‘em."

“Oh, it’s not the ceremonies I mind at all,” Jacoby said in response. “It’s the twice damned receptions they always have afterwards. ‘Oh, Herr Flynn, I am Such-and-Such So-and-So from this village you have never heard of and most likely will never go to except due to a navigation error.’ One after the other, hour after hour. And the journalists? Always the same questions that nocreature anywhere in the world really cares to hear the answer to. Helden im Himmel, we should go to one in Equestria someday. I’ll bet theirs are actually interesting."

"At least it wasn't as bad as the first time," Alexios suggested. He struck a match and began igniting the newspaper under the wood. "Remember that reception?"

Jacoby cackled at that. "I remember that the Duchess kept checking her watch because she felt she was wasting her time and didn't have a clear path to the exit. At least not until we 'accidentally' stumbled into the group she was in and successfully provided a distraction. I'm still convinced that one favor is the only reason she has any respect for me at all.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” The fire started, Alexios tossed the match into the fireplace and then watched the flames grow, he and jacoby falling back into silence. “So,” the minotaur began again after a few moments, looking over his shoulder, “Out of everygriffon at the reception, and the few in the ‘other’ category, who you had a chance to talk to, did any of them buy your story?"

With a sigh, Jacoby’s smile melted away. “The politicians did,” he replied, “But it wasn’t a hard sell. They're not happy with my implicit refusal to implicate Equestria, no question, but being able to tell their citizens there’s nothing to worry about, Herr Held will handle everything? Also no question they’re thrilled about that. I don’t think the academics believe that I actually fixed anything. Not the sharper ones.”

Alexios frowned at that. “That’s gonna be a problem,” he said, turning his attention back to the fire.

“As long as they think I still have research hoarded away, they’ll play along, at least until they think they have everything they need.” Jacoby rolled from his back onto his stomach. "I didn’t invent any new runes for this, they have to realize that, but I did have to play with structure and established rules, and that’s what they’ll want. I don’t have to fool them forever. Just until I figure out a better solution.”

“And what if you can’t find one?”

“I have to, Alex!” Jacoby shouted, slamming his fist on the sofa's arm. “Did you see the headlines three days ago, when we went tearing off to Eisendorf like Lofwyr himself was after us? When Parliament finally lost control of the situation like we knew they would? ‘Equestrian Plot for Conquest.’ Never mind how insane an idea that is, the truth doesn’t sell newspapers, so thank Heaven that circulation was so poor that day. Do you know what the headlines will be saying tomorrow, now that they all have pictures of me with a brand new medal? ‘Living Hero Does It Again.’ You can’t have a dragon without a dragon-slayer. I'm the one who has to fix this, Alex. That's what I'm here for. That’s what I do." With a tired slump and heavy sigh, Jacoby dropped his head onto the sofa's arm, staring dejectedly at the wall. "I fix things...."

He didn't register that anything around him had changed until he felt Alexios' hand on his shoulder, and looked up at the minotaur mournfully.

“Siegfried's the greatest of all griffons," said Alexios definitively. "He laid low the fiercest dragons, hunted the largest sea serpents, and stopped the sun from moving across the sky. But he never did any of those things alone."

Giving Jacoby two firm pats on the shoulder, Alexios headed upstairs to go to bed, leaving the griffon to ponder the wisdom of those words as wrestled with his melancholy.

Comments

[Zalabar]

So, a solid characterization of the nation itself, spelling out the conflict writ large for those of us too obtuse (myself in this case) to see.
Dialogue, as always, is smooth, effective, and lends characterization. I can hear them in the text, Micheal Dorn's timbre for Alexios, Harrison Ford with a solid German accent doing his best action Einstein for Jacoby. Given the precarious economic structure, the quick clamoring for war, I can't help but wonder if we're looking at a fantasy Wiemar republic, and a gryphon with a subpar painter's eye is currently penning his solution in a debtor's prison somewhere. Hm. Does that make the Elks Russia?

The intro is kind of abrupt, a very sharp cut from the last scene. Not bad, but the German names don't stick with me as well, so it took a second to click. Perhaps include a translation from Deutsche to English in the author's notes?

The actions are clear, not overwrought, nor overly simple. I'm still not entirely sure I get what Jacoby has managed to do (anti-magic, maybe?) but that's less important than the fact that it works, and that I as a reader have every reason to expect it to. You're hinting at a system instead of spelling it out, and a mystery of science in magic is a damn fine mystery.

Regarding the politics... looking back on the last chapter, when Jacoby and Alexios were traveling across the nation, it seems like that would've been a great time to hint at the conflict. Have one of the extras blame the misfortunes on Celestia, or include a naturalized pony who is facing blame for the oddities. Something small to prepare this scene. It still works, but could work a bit better.

I like the setup, and the characters are solid. Thank you for writing, and I'll get the epilogue next.