Guiding Him Down a New Path

by Sai-guy

Flight-and-Fight Response

From the deck of the Dancing Leaf, Squall and I watched the approaching griffons. They were a mercenary couple and their chick, who sat on her mother’s back. I didn’t particularly like having to hire mercenaries, but this voyage was going past the Strait of Maressina, and I didn’t want to lose six of my crew to the Scylla.

I appraised them as they prowled up the dock towards us. They weren’t armed, but then, if my information was correct, that made little difference in how dangerous they were. A few faint scars crossed their chests and flanks, which explained why the dockworkers shied away from them. A cursory glance certainly made them seem hostile, but I knew why they stared down anypony who came near them. They were wary in the same way I would be if I had to bring my son with me to a new port.

I considered myself lucky because Squall wanted to stay home to raise Rising. But for those mercenaries, without both watching one another’s backs, the one who stayed behind would likely end up a widow. I really felt bad for them, but I’d already done my best to help… but maybe there was another option.

Now was time for business, though, so I put on my game face and recalled all I knew about griffons’ customs. I had the position of power here, so when they stopped in front of me, I waited for them to incline their heads before I followed suit.

“Calm skies for your hunting grounds,” I said, beginning the Equestrian translation of their traditional saying. Try as I might, I couldn’t manage the pronunciation in their tongue.

Their crests raised. Apparently they hadn’t expected me to know it. There was hiring mercenaries, then there was earning their loyalty. I strove for the latter as I did the former.

“Und may ze clouds hide your movements,” they responded, brows furrowing. It seemed my lack of wings rather threw the traditional response off.

“Welcome to my ship, Gregor, Gertrude.” I wanted to ask them about their child, but I didn’t, as that wasn’t part of the protocol.

Gregor stepped forward, apparently to speak for the family, and said, “We thank you for ze invitation of work — few ponies actually trust us. Und your knowledge of our customs is a pleasant surprise. Ze ship, she looks sturdy und fast. Mine wife und I, we will take ze job, I think.”

He looked back to Gertrude, who said, “Yes, it seems like a good choice. I trust that ze allowance for putting our chick into ze boarding school is still part of our contract.”

I nodded. “It is, indeed. But, I would like to make a second option available to you. My wife, Squall Line, very much loves children, and she’s always wished for a girl… I propose that your daughter stay at my house, under my wife’s care, while we are at sea. Of course, the funds originally proposed for her lodging and so forth will get redirected to your paycheck.”

They turned to one another and began conferring in Griffonian, a harsh language if ever there was one. I turned to Squall, whose mouth hung open. It quickly turned up into a smile. I hoped, for her sake, that they would take the offer. It didn’t hurt that it would make a nice lesson for Rising.

They turned back to us, and Gertrude spoke up. “Your wife, she is big for you ponies. She seems almost as strong as us, so she will do to raise Gabriella.”

Squall snorted. Oh no, they’d gone and done it. I raised a hoof, but it was already too late.

“Almost as strong as you?”

Gertrude tilted her head. “Yes, strength is a compliment here, no?”

My wife looked over to me. “I have to teach these griffons a few things. I’ll come right back, okay?”

Squall turned her attention back to the griffons and pointed at Gertrude. “You, me, wingpower battle. Now.”

I sighed and had to resist bringing my hoof to my face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Even some of my crew had turned to watch the exchange.

Gregor reached up onto his wife’s back and took Gabriella down. “I think I like this pony. She has — what is ze word? — ambition, und she shows no fear. I think she will be a good influence on you, Gabriella.”

The chick stared down at the deck as her mother and Squall took off. They made sure to cross out farther into the bay and then took up positions about ten or so body lengths from one another and began hovering with their hind legs dangling high above any of the masts in the bay.

What happened next made me glad to be a unicorn. Sure, being able to carry things in my magic was nice, but earth ponies managed just fine without it. No, what I counted as unicorns’ best gift was the ability to actually see leylines. Usually, they’re just there, doing mundane little tasks, but when something like this happened, no flowers or art or even the sunset matched their beauty. Thousands of the invisible magic appendages shone before me, making both of them seem like giant shimmering butterflies whose wings almost reached the water.

Watching the leylines of those two extend as they prepared blew me away. Seeing how wide they spread made my horn hurt just thinking about it; covering that much area was purely the realm of the pegasi — and griffons, I supposed.

The one beside me spoke up. “I offer my sincerest of apologies if mine wife harms yours. I fear Gertrude can sometimes be — how do you say? — excitable.”

I tried not to snort. “Oh, don’t you worry about Squall. I’m just worried about where I’ll find new mercenaries if this ends badly.”

Gregor eyed me with something like disbelief. I wasn’t entirely sure, though; I had trouble reading griffons, what with their beaks and all.

What could only be described as a flash of magic drew my attention. Gertrude had opened the “fight” with a huge gust of wind, sweeping Squall back a couple body lengths. The two rules for a wingpower battle were simple: if you could still move the other competitor, you were still in the game, and you weren’t allowed to move forward from where you were pushed.

That Gertrude had pushed my wife back at all impressed me, really. But I knew Squall’s magic; it slowly built towards being unstoppable, and this was only the beginning. She would bowl that poor griffon over like a storm front.

Gertrude’s leylines sunk into the bay below her, and those loops flattened a bit to catch more water. If only raw power mattered, my wife definitely had the power to win. But unfortunately for Squall, Gertrude fought smart. Air moved much more easily than thousands of gallons of water, so she had anchored herself in the bay. That was a very good sign for me; I liked my mercenaries to have a good head about them.

The leylines around Squall and Gertrude’s bodies brightened past their typical level in flight. The halo of crimson energy surrounding Gertrude expanded two, maybe three, times faster than Squall’s, which matched her eyes’ orange color. Every flap of their wings saturated more of each loop with thrumming energy, sending the invisible glow out a hoof’s length or two farther.

Squall slid backwards through the air, her face scrunching into a scowl. As Gertrude pushed her more than half the length of a ship from where she’d started, I wondered if my confidence had been overconfidence.

I glanced over at Gregor and Gabriella without turning my head. While she looked down and off to the side, her father kept his sight trained on the fight. His head jerked back and forth in an unsurprisingly bird-like way.

When I looked back, I saw that both their pairs of wings traced out contrails as they pulled the water from the air, and the wind grew to a dull roar. It seemed the fight had drawn quite the crowd. Horseshoe Bay rarely saw fights, and more often than not, the ones that happened sent everypony fleeing from sea monsters. So for this one, ponies from other ships and all along the docks had stopped to gawk. Though, with both of their leylines filled halfway with power, the wind, and the waves, I couldn’t blame them.

As I watched along with them, I noticed a wake forming beneath Gertrude where her leylines met the water.

I found the difference between Squall’s magic and Gertrude’s clearly displayed as the fight dragged on. While the griffon’s magic flared at each attack of wind, it dulled between them. Squall’s only continued growing brighter, expanding, grabbing more air with each flap.

“Come on, Squall, I know you can do it!” I yelled above the wind.

“Yes. I. Can!” She let each word out explosively, accompanied by a flap and flare-up of magic. It passed a point I hadn’t seen her reach in years and reminded me of when we’d first met.

As Squall slowed to a stop, the scowl from her face migrated to Gertrude’s. The right side of my mouth curled into a smile, and Squall glanced down to me, a similar expression covering her face. I nodded once to her.

Muscles and leylines straining, she poured it on, each beat of her wings condensing a small, briefly lived cloud with a wump. Gertrude squawked as the wind became a torrent, and the lulls in her magic’s strength led to her slipping farther and farther back. The repeated forced retreats sent up waves until she reached the shore. With no more water to cling to, the current of air sent her tumbling. She caught hold of a roof as she passed it and steadied herself then climbed onto it, panting.

I turned to watch her husband. Griffons could sometimes act strangely over matters of honor, so I lit my horn just to be on the safe side. Hypocritical of me? Maybe, but mercenaries were known for their violent tendencies regardless of species.

Gregor snorted when he saw me. “Guiding Star, do not be afraid. Your wife won ze battle by overwhelming strength. However! I vant to test myself against her.” He scanned the sky. “I have a most interesting challenge for her.”

I definitely understood that. Squall and I competed as often as we could — not nearly enough in my opinion.

When his wife got back to the ship and started watching over their daughter, he took off like a bolt towards Squall, who was on her way back. As he got to her, he gestured with his talons, and I caught something about lightning and hitting.

I found myself liking this idea significantly less. It sounded like either of them could get seriously hurt.

“Squall, please, you don’t have to do this!”

“Guiding,” she called down, “it’s okay. This nice griffon explained the rules to me, and they’re simple. I just need a few minutes.”

Celestia, there was no stopping that mare when she put her mind to something.

I could only watch as Gregor and Squall took up positions about a ship’s length from one another in the sky. Apparently, griffons always went first; Gregor’s magic reached out and raked through the air, clawing at it and pulling a charge back to him. While I couldn’t see the electricity, from the hairs in my mane lifting towards him, I knew the potential for Squall getting hurt was high. Ice ran through my veins as I saw the leylines from his talons extend all the way to my wife, and a split second later, the flash of lightning blinded me. The crack of thunder laid my ears flat against my head.

When my vision cleared, I saw Squall patting at her chest, where a patch of her coat had been scorched a darker grey. I sat heavily and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. She was okay.

She was okay.

I had to remind myself that enough electricity to kill me only hurt pegasi. They’d never survive thunderstorms otherwise. Faster than anypony could possibly think, her magic had moved to cut the shock down to a minimum, taking a sizeable chunk of the magic she’d spent the last few minutes building.

“Ow…” Squall coughed then shook herself again. She started again, stronger this time. “Well, that was quite the attack! I don’t think I’ve ever seen any pony pull lighting from thin air before — I know I can’t.”

She made a show of looking around for storms to harness for herself. There were no clouds. “So, you probably thought you had a pretty good chance, what with there being nothing for me to use. That’s where you’d be wrong, though. I have more than I could ever need.”

She tucked her wings to her sides and dove, plummeting towards the waves. As she approached the water, she made no effort to slow, only letting her magic spool out behind her like streamers in the wind.

I couldn’t watch as she hurtled towards the bay, but I still felt the burst of cloudwalking magic and heard the tremendous splash. I glanced back to see the deluge Squall had kicked up vaporize and recondense under the guidance of her magic.

Celestia, it always boggled my mind how pegasi just did magic like that without thinking. Some unicorns put in decades of study to do even half that with clouds. But Squall didn’t even pay attention to the huge cloud forming over her head. She stood on the surface of the water, looking out at Gregor, who had followed her most of the way down.

“You see,” she said, “I usually get called to break storms up, but I know how to put them together, too.”

She grinned like a cat who’d caught a mouse, and the cloud darkened to almost black. “And now, it’s my turn.”

Squall leapt from the water into the cloud and disappeared from sight. After a few moments, the cloud started to rotate, picking up speed. Meanwhile, Gregor hovered in place, eyeing it. I did too, and I saw it begin glowing the color of Squall’s magic as she rebuilt her strength.

I supposed that dodging was against the rules, so I stood and picked up a life preserver in my telekinesis. I briefly considered the irony, given that Squall’s cutie mark was one, but I pushed that to the back of my mind. I guessed Gregor was about to be in a rough spot.

Squall burst from the cloud, lightning crackling between her primaries, and pointed at Gregor. The flash blinded me again, and the thunder almost knocked me off my hooves. My ears rang while my vision returned, and I searched the water for the griffon. When I spotted him, twitching, a few yards from my ship, I rushed the life preserver to him and called my crew to haul him aboard.

I looked out to my wife, who stood atop the cloud she’d created. She fought to keep a smirk from her face and lost. She had gone a little overboard with that display of force, and I loved it when she did that. So much raw power… and she was all mine. It made me feel alive just watching her.

I gasped. Idiot, I was being an idiot, standing here like a romantic fool while probably losing two hires.

I turned back to them and saw Gertrude working some of the cramps out of her husband’s wings while he grimaced. Their chick hid behind her mother’s feline legs, only her head and tail poking out. She shrank back even farther when Squall landed beside me, and I groaned internally.

Oh, buck me straight to Tartarus. This could only end in tears and Squall trying to hug that poor chick into paste. Already, Squall’s expression crumbled from elation to concern. From there, it was a short trip to the waterworks.

“Squall, dear, go to my cabin please.”

She nodded mechanically and left at a slow walk but nearly broke out into a gallop before reaching the door. I heard her choke back a sob as she wrenched it open and rushed inside, slamming the door behind herself.

I turned back and found them conversing in that coarse language of theirs. As I walked up to them, they quieted, and I cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry for that. My wife can also be rather excitable.”

“Ha! Do not apologize,” Gregor said. “I wanted a good fight, und I found one. It gives me stratagems to consider for the future, no?”

Gertrude nodded. “Und we think now more than ever zat your wife should raise Gabriella in our absence. She will be a good influence… if she can get over zat strange aversion to exposing ze children to violence you ponies have.”

She helped her husband up to all fours, and he looked from my cabin’s door to me. “If you promise to talk to her about zat, we have a deal. Mine daughter must grow big und strong.”

“I’ll talk to her about it and explain how our cultures are different in that respect.” I held out my hoof to him.

He grasped it with his talons and shook. It was a strange feeling to say the least. Each claw that curled around my fetlock pressed down with a distinct line of pressure, very unlike when a pony went for a hoofshake and completely different from being grasped with the uniformity of magic. It felt like he needed to consciously avoid crushing down like a vice to snap my bones.

Predators’ instincts must be hard to fight.

I shook with Gertrude next, just wanting to get back to Squall. “Maybe we should finish this tomorrow when you two are in a little better shape. That sound good?”

“Same time und place, yes?” she asked.

I nodded.

“We shall see you tomorrow, zen.” She and Gregor turned. “Come along, Gabriella.”

She slunk off between her parents, tail hanging limply between her legs. It seemed that not all griffons were so enamored with thoughts of violence. That’s something else I’d bring up with Squall.

I hurried to her, and when I got into my quarters, I found her lying on our bed, head beneath her wings. She trembled, twitches running through her wings, and I heard sniffling.

My ears wilted. It felt like somepony had bucked me in the stomach, seeing her like this. There was nothing I could have done, but still, it felt like my failure.

No — I realized — I could have chosen to comfort her instead of talking to the griffons, but I’d chosen them over the mare I’d married.

I flopped down beside her and wrapped her in a hug, burying my face in one of her wings. “Celestia, I’m so sorry, Squall. I should have come for you right away. I shouldn’t have—”

She shifted around and hooked her wing behind me, dragging me in for a kiss. I admit, on a list of ways I like making up for things, making out would rank fairly high.

After a couple minutes, we pulled back, and I saw one of the mysteries of life. For some reason or other, the coats of pegasi were able to pretty effectively repel water except for their own tears. Dimly, I remembered something about their magic passing through itself, but that couldn’t matter less to me right now; poor Squall’s face was still tear-streaked. I leaned in and kissed the tears away.

I traced a hoof through one of the black streaks in her mane. “Better?”

She nodded, only a tiny motion. “I’m okay. It’s just… she looked so scared of me. She had to hide from me! I beat up her parents right in front of her! How am I supposed to take care of her now? Will she even—”

I put a hoof to her lips and hushed her. “Squall, you’re just going to talk yourself back into crying. Just listen to me. Those griffons want you to act that way to teach their daughter.”

“But!”

“But you don’t want to do anything like that in front of a kid. And you know what? I don’t think she wants that either. I could be wrong, but we’ll have Rising figure that out for sure.”

Squall laughed a bit. “Yeah, he’ll probably find out in the first hour or so.”

“That’s right. And then if I’m right, we just need to do a little rebranding. It’s not attacking with lightning; it’s the art of electric arcs. It won’t be making mini-tornadoes and wind gusts to rip things apart; it’ll be painting with all the colors of the wind or something.”

She smiled faintly and pulled me into a tighter hug. “Thank you. When you put it like that, it does sound a lot nicer. I mean, so long as she learns it, does it matter what I teach it as?”

I shrugged, the weight of her hooves on my shoulders making the motion seem much more personal. Smiling, I rested a hoof on her cheek. “I just want you to be happy. Will you be, doing this?”

She nodded and covered the back of my hoof with hers, nuzzling it. Her coat tickled against the frog of my hoof. I kissed her softly, and she sighed when I pulled back.

“I have to go pick up Rising now.”

With a snort, I said, “If you don’t hurry, he’ll probably walk to the library again.”

I stood and helped her up. Pegasi weighed so little when they wanted to.

“Then I’ll make sure I swing around from that side to make sure I don’t miss him.” She stretched each wing out, one at a time, popping a few joints in each. “Oh yeah, that’s good.”

I just watched in appreciation. “You want a wing massage tonight?”

She smirked at me. “You want a wing massage tonight.”

“Mmm, guilty as charged.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling anyways. I cast off in two days — we both knew how this ended.

She walked to the door, opened it, and paused, looking back over her shoulder. “See you soon, my Star. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And then she left, swatting the door closed with her tail, and I sighed. Dear Luna, this day had already been like something out of a dream, what with my wife fighting mercenaries, winning, and them liking that.

I got out a small notebook I kept in addition to my captain’s log. In it, I had some bits of knowledge I’d picked up about the other species, little facts that I hadn’t seen in any of the books about them. You never knew when something like this could help when you traveled as many places as I did.

I flipped through it, found the section I had for griffons, and wrote, “Their mercenary types take losing graciously?” Below that, I added, “Their culture as a whole?”

I’d ask around and see if those ideas held any water.

But then I felt a sizzling sort of light from my left, and I heard the soft sound of a scroll settle inside my cabinet as its enchantment delivered a captain’s message to me. Back to work, it seemed.

As I began reading the message, I wished Squall good luck telling Rising that he’d have a temporary sister — who’s a griffon.

Author's Note:

Thanks to my editors: SaiKimura and Cynewulf.

Comments

[Nano6243]

Well, this is a nice start. I like how you decided to portray the Griffons - though their portrayal in general as mercenaries and/or warriors is rather common, this seems less like the Klingons or Krogan and more like Kyoshi Warriors or Turians. At least, that's how I saw it, though I don't know if that's what you were going for. I also like seeing how you portrayed Guiding Star (you won't believe how many "soldiers" I see portrayed as "The Soldier" from TF2, or worse. )

Of course, the duel was awesome, too, and I like your inclusion of "leylines", though that could just be because I like magic in general (see profile picture).

[Sai-guy]

4691107
Well, I'm glad you're liking it so far!

The giffons are more Germanic than anything, in that… Well, you'll see.

And actually, Guiding Star isn't a soldier at all! You're thinking of the wrong type of captain. If you'd read either of my other stories, that would already be clear, but I'll make what I mean completely obvious in the next chapter.

The duels were quite fun to write, and I'm glad that translated into them being fun to read.

As for leylines and magic, well, that's only just beginning. I hate when magic is just magic and has no internal workings or hazy ones at best. I'll be delving deeper into this as the story continues.

[Nano6243]

4692087

Oops, sorry. I hadn't taken a look at your other stories yet, so I just made an assumption when you wrote "shore leave" and "Captain". It was an honest mistake, wasn't it?

Also, I don't have much knowledge of German mercenaries/soldiers/whatever you meant them to be (other than the Nazi stereotypes, but I doubt you wanted them portrayed like that ), so I'll do a little more research, and keep a lookout for their connection.

[Sai-guy]

4694568

Yeah, no hard feelings about thinking he was a military type; given what you had to go on from that chapter alone, it wasn't an unreasonable assumption.

And well, they're supposed to be Germanic, not German. There'll be differences, and there'll be similarities. Also, by "you'll see," I kind of meant if you read the next (or come back in) three stories. I have plans, see, big plans…

[Nano6243]

4694969

Sorry, I don't know what Germanic people are. I should really stop making so many assumptions with so little information.

And no worries. I'm intrigued, so I will come back for more.

[Sai-guy]

4694997
It just means that they're like Germans — from the definition: "having characteristics of or attributed to Germans or Germany."

And I'm glad you'll return! I'm trying to set up a little (ha) continuity of my own here.

[Nano6243]

4695264

...and here I was thinking it was a reference that I didn't get. I felt like Steve Rogers for a moment.

[Sai-guy]

4695996
Nope, not a reference! And sorry if I came across as abrasive; as a logophile, words are my thing, and I sometimes forget that others don't necessarily share the same enthusiasm for them.

[Nano6243]

4697203

Well, while I'm not exactly Hippopotomonstrosisquipidaliophobic, I still don't have quite an extensive vocabulary. That said, I don't mind you being an intellectual. I myself recently learned a little doctor humor, and I'm waiting for just the right opportunity to tell someone that they "need a transrectalcraniectomy". Haven't found the right opportunity yet, but the internet is full of both nice guys and trolls, so I'm sure I'll use it eventually.

p.s. In case you (or anyone else who reads this comment) actually understood what that one part meant, I meant no offense towards you, and I really hope I didn't mess up a chance to relate.

p.p.s. In case you didn't understand that part, trans- = across/through, rectal = the rectum (I don't like cursing, so I'll just leave it at that), crani/o = head, & -ectomy = surgical removal. I'll leave it to readers of this comment to piece that one together for themselves.

p.p.p.s. I really need to get over my habit of rambling while commen- I'll shut up now.

[Sai-guy]

4697496
No worries! I prefer long, rambling, semi-topical comments to none at all.

And guess what — there's a part of this story planned where you'll get the opportunity to use your joke!

*looks at the plan.

… if you remember it by then…