What Remains I: The Griffon and Her Dweeb

by Bateman66

Figure on the Horizon

Vilgen’s claws dug tightly around the edges of the frosted field glasses, with such force being applied that light scratches could already be seen along the object’s metal outer regions. He’d been staring off into the snowy abyss for the better part of a minute and he still couldn’t spot what his superior steadfastly claimed was there. The small lack of results bothered him greatly and he could feel his patience lower the more and more his search was in vain.

“Are you sure this is even here, Captain Machek?” he said with a queried tone over the howl of the snowstorm’s wind. “There doesn’t seem to be anything out there.”

Machek, a male griffon such as Vilgen, stood off to the side of the wooden guard tower and stared forth in the same general direction.

“Sure as the cracked teeth on my grandma,” he responded casually. “I can guarantee I saw something, silver and glittery around the edges to be precise. Keep looking, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

Vilgen wished to spin around and instruct Machek to continue the search himself, but the golden triangle across the bold guardsmen’s leather armor shattered such hope. Machek was a superior, and thus, his orders needed to always be taken in stride, even when those beneath him wished otherwise.

Sighing, Vilgen pressed the binoculars back to his large (quite literally) eagle eyes and scanned along the obscure perimeter the commanding officer had made with his claw.

He was met with nothing but blurred flurries of snow flying to and fro across the white hills. The gray cover of approaching evening hung above their heads solemnly as the promise of a temperature colder then it was now was nearly assured once night finally fell.

Thankfully, he’d be inside by then, with the night watchmen having to cope with the arctic vortex they called home. He’d be laying comfortably in bed, an adventure novel in one claw, and a blanket in the other, with only the bother of the next day to worry about.

But for now, he had to continue his pointless scan of the perimeter, looking for an invisible trick of the eye that, so far, was very shy about making a second formal appearance.

“I give up,” he declared with quieted exasperation as he brought the field glasses to his side. “Sir, I don’t think there’s anything out there. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.”

Machek raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, then what’s that?” he pointed a single talon out towards the blurry horizon.

Vilgen squinted his eyes forward but saw nothing. Looking back through the binoculars to get a better observation, he winced in surprise. Sure enough, he could see something through the misty screen of the blowing snow. It was an icy blue color, with silver glittering bits dotted around its center with a large circle of some sort taking up its near entirety. The object, whatever it was, brushed in the wind.

“Dear lord…” Vilgen murmured in unexpected shock. “What do you think it is, sir?”

“If you gave me the dang mirrors maybe I’d be able to see it a bit better, hmm?” Hildren held out an impatient and patronizing claw to match his tone.

Swiping the apparatus right out of his colleague’s claws, Hildren gingerly brought the field glasses into focus and observed the target area. After a moment, he brought the mirrors down and nodded his head conclusively.

“Just as I thought,” he stated simply while turning to Vilgen. “Get down to the alarm guys and tell them to sound the secondary bell. We’ve got company.”

“Who is it?” Vilgen blurted with a bit too much youthful enthusiasm for his own good. He realized this a bit too late from the glare Machek flashed in return.

“That’s not relevant to the duty you’ve been assigned. Now go, I won’t repeat myself.”

Vilgen didn’t need any more encouragement. Saluting half-heartedly, he took a single military step backwards and suddenly broke into a sprint down the stronghold walls. Looping around the stone compound, he finally reached an aged flight of stairs and began down it.

If the storm hadn’t been how it was currently he could’ve easily just dived off the guard tower and glided safely to where he intended to go. But the howling wind would’ve ripped him right out of his descent and sent him hurdling through the air whichever way nature intended him to go. So instead, he and the other attending griffons had to rely on their legs more than their wings.

Hopping down the last step, he bolted across the snow covered courtyard. As he ran, he could easily see the monolithic castle standing strongly within the center of the entire compound. It was a simple design, a large boxy structure that reached upwards toward the sky with a thickness that kept consistent no matter how high it got.

The masonry vault had been built centuries before as an observation post of sorts, a defensive rest stop along the typically isolated northern Griffon tundra. It served primarily as a deterrent and staging ground for a counteroffensive if any opposing faction ever intended to invade the kingdom through its most desolate point.

This had never been attempted before in recent history, but the ever tense relationship with Equestria always left the more cautious griffons with a driven urge to ensure their own safety, whether the threat be real or imaginary.

Reaching one of several stone structures that were separate from the castle itself but still serving their own special purposes, he knocked on the door urgently and waited for a response.

“State your business,” called a muffled voice from inside, the alarm operators clearly not wishing to expose themselves to the elements if they could. Vilgen wished he had such liberties.

Cupping his claws to his mouth, he shouted a response. “Something has been spotted along the northern perimeter. Captain Machek wishes for a secondary alert to be placed immediately!”

“Acknowledged,” said the griffon inside, their voice a bit more pleasant than their initial greeting.

But before Vilgen could even turn around and walk back up to his post, the deep and echoing secondary bells suddenly began to ring from atop the structure, alerting the entire stronghold to the threat. Nearly four dozen guardsmen immediately filed out of the stronghold castle, with backup units marching out of the smaller courtyard structures. Within seconds, the once desolate square of snow was filled with several organized lines of soldiers, each holding a glistening pointed spear in their right claw.

Vilgen realized he was now the only griffon not in proper formation, but before he could find a place to squeeze into, Machek stoically trotted towards the cluster. Standing between the lines of troops, he took one look amongst them and nodded.

“Griffons,” he announced with a steel commanding voice that howled louder than the wind. “An anomaly has been spotted closing in our location. From observation it appears unarmed and on diplomatic assignment. However, we cannot take any chances with allowing an outsider into our area. I want you to be on high alert, and, if the order is given, to attack swiftly and with tact. There’s no telling what this creep will pull. Understood?”

The rows of troops roared back. “Yes, sir!”

The Captain smiled as he looked over the organized crowd of his troops, until his gaze fell upon Vilgen, who was still nervously searching for a line to squeeze into.

“Private Vilgen!” his voice boomed cheerily as he strutted towards him through the gaps in the troop lines. “I was just looking for you.”

Before Vilgen had a chance to speak, Machek wrapped his arm around him and wrangled him towards the front of the lines with an uncomfortable friendliness.

“Troops!” Machek announced with a wide gesture to all of them. “This griffon right here was the first to sight the anomaly near the stronghold walls. Private,” he looked toward Vilgen with expectation, “what did the object specifically look like?”

He stammered for a moment but was finally able to manage out a response before his comrades began to snicker. “It was a cloth of some sort. An icy blue cover with several shiny silver spots along it. And in the center was a circle of some sort.”

Some grumbles went through the rows as the realization of where the diplomat was from slowly sunk in. Gasping as the reactions from everyone else confirmed his suspicions, Vilgen turned to his superior.

“Sir…do you mean—”

“Yes,” he said with a grim nod. “I do. An Equestrian diplomat is approaching our home as we speak. They should be here any moment from when I last checked.”

Vilgen’s eyes widened. “Sir, how could that be? What business would they have in our lands?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, it must be important. Those colorful little prats have always been picky about when they wish to deal with us. For now we wait and see. If they want trade, we pass them along to the capital, if they don’t, we’ll have to—”

The Captain was cut short by the one of the gate watchmen hollering across the courtyard as he ran to Machek. “Sir!” he yelled over his own heavy breaths, “the diplomat has arrived. He’s waiting at the gate.”

“Well what are you waiting for?” the Captain said sharply. “Let the whelp in.”

“You don’t understand,” the guardsmen said with another gasp of air. “It’s not a pony at all. It’s a human, and he wishes to speak with you.”