Old Paths, New Directions

by An-Twan Star

Sandmare

“What do you know about ponies?"

It was the question that had been haunting the young griffon's mind and dreams ever since she had a falling out with her best – and only – pony friend. It was the whole reason she was even in Equestria in the first place.

A small talon shot into the air. “Yes, Gilda?”

“I know!”

“And just WHY do you know so much about PONIES? You don't need to hang with those lame-brains now that I'M around! Unless, of course, you want to eat them.”

The dream flowed from one place to the next, neither coherent nor indecipherable.

“Wha – N-no, it's not like that!”

“Exactly, now, make like a bee, and fly away home. Gimme a call when you're done being a dweeb.”

Time holds no bounds in the dreamscape.

“Damn, am I glad to be done with that exam. Ugh, I can't believe I once actually liked those foul creatures.”

“Heh heh. You sure were lame back then. Just stick with us griffons and everything will be smooth sailings.”

“Oh, I ain't goin' anywhere other than on an awesome summer vacation.”

“Unfortunately the only place I'm going is straight to after-school detention. I'll catch you later, G.”

“Ja.”

Even the best-laid plans can fall astray.

“WHAT IN TARTARUS IS THIS!!!”

“A report card.”

“And what is the highest grade!”

“Uh, A-plus?”

“Yes, A-plus. A-PLUS ON THE FREAKING PONY TEST!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!!”

The flow turned into a torrent, with no rhyme nor reason.

“Why don't you make like a bee and BUZZ OFF!”

“We're sending you to a flight camp in Equestria for the summer.”

“You think they're gonna let you back in after that?”

“We can’t house you if you keep acting out like this!”

“You're dorking up the skies, Stinkie Pie.”

“Fine! It wasn’t my choice, anyway.”

“These Ponies are driving me buggy, I gotta bail.”

“If being ‘cool’ is all you care about, then why don't you go and find some new cool friends someplace else.”

“NOT. COOL.”

“ENOUGH!”

At that command, everything ceased to exist.

The dream suddenly became very lucid for Gilda. An ethereal dome had formed overhead, the deep purple of her subconscious swirling ominously outside. With disturbing clarity, she cast her gaze on the Sandmare descending into the dreamscape. Touching down, the alicorn spoke.

“Fear not, fair Equestrian.”

Gilda shuddered involuntarily – she knew all about the Sandmare and the reputation that preceded her. After all, the dreamscape was used as a recruitment device during the Lunar Rebellion. Any fear felt by the griffon, however, was quickly replaced by indignation.

“I am not an Equestrian!” Gilda barked, drawing herself onto her hind legs to meet the Princess's height.

“Not by species, no,” Luna responded calmly.

Gilda grabbed the sides of her head. “Gah, why are you even here? Don't you know how very bad this is for you!”

Luna ignored the outburst from the enraged griffon, her attention focused on an image she had conjured of Gilda roaring at Fluttershy. “Hm, I'm sure your personality has been very bad for many ponies,” she commented, a hoof placed under her chin.

A quick swipe of talons ended that particular vision. Gilda growled a low, predatory rumble as her tail lashed about behind her.

“Not your greatest achievement, I'm sure.” Luna waved the torn image away, replacing it with another, this one showing Gilda knocking an earth pony-pedaled contraption out of the sky. The griffon noticed a veritable train of different misdeeds waiting in the wings to replace that one should she choose to swat it away.

“Get out of my head!” Gilda howled in frustration. The swirling mass that was her subconscious began bubbling furiously. “Look, Princess Luna, you seriously don't know how dangerous this is for you! No, for Equestria! You could start a war!”

Luna stopped, as though she was considering the implications. “I guess we don't want that on our conscience, now do we.”

“Yeah, I bet we don't,” the griffon snorted and glowered at the larger alicorn. “Now piss off!”

For the first time since she arrived, Luna looked directly at Gilda. Down and through. Gilda managed to repress a shudder at that piercing stare, though her tail was not wholly successful. Luna opened her mouth to say something further, only to be cut off by a faint noise. She turned away from Gilda again, her ears perked, seeking the sound. It was a faint ringing; distant, not unlike a loud noise in a city that you eventually just get used to.

“Well, it seems like forces beyond our control will pull us apart,” Luna said as she began to fade from view.

“HEY! Get back here, dweeb! I'm not through with you yet!”

“The waking world calls you, griffon. Don't keep her waiting.”

“SANDMARE!” Gilda screamed out the griffon deity's name before realizing that she was sitting up in her bed.

Taking a minute to catch her breath, the griffon cast her golden gaze to the offensive alarm sitting atop the nightstand. She swung a fist at the clock but stopped short. Extending a talon, she gently pressed the off button, restoring the bedroom to silence. The clock was not Luna, and the bits it would cost her to replace it were not quite worth the momentary satisfaction smashing it to pieces would bring. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to the still darkness, Gilda tried to calm herself. Her waking world surrounded her with ponies, she didn’t need them in her sleep, too.

Having finally composed herself enough to start the day, Gilda got on all fours and began her routine griffon morning maintenance. She arched her back in a feline fashion while stretching out her still curled up avian talons as far as they could go, nearly touching the bed with her beak. Holding that position, Gilda stretched one rear leg out at a time, feeling a rough purr work its way up from her chest to her throat.

After getting the kinks out of her back and limbs, she set about her next order of maintenance. Plopping back down onto the bed, she flicked on the bedside light and unfurled her massive wings to appraise the damage.

Ugh, I just preened these things last night. I must have been tossing in my sleep. I can't believe I let that lame-flank Princess crawl into my dreams.

That’s when the full implications of Luna’s intrusion finally hit the sleep-addled griffon, turning her purr into a low growl. “Oh no… the treaty!”

Unlike in Equestria, griffon society more clearly remembered Nightmare Moon and the Lunar Rebellion's recruitment of ponies and griffons alike through the power of dreams. After Princess Luna's return and The Longest Night, the griffon military had gone from peacetime to its maximum readiness for the first time in almost a century. The Gryphus-Equestria Pact, the world’s longest-standing peace treaty, almost came to an end in the process.

Seeking a diplomatic solution, Celestia invited a delegation from Gryphus to discuss Luna's return. And after weeks of bitter negotiations, both sides reached an agreement, part of which forbade Luna from dream-walking outside Equestria and specifically from dream-walking through any of Gryphus' citizens, embassy workers, or diplomats living within.

What had just happened was a clear treaty violation and a diplomatic mess, no question about it. A few years back she would have jumped at the opportunity to ‘stick it’ to Equestrian royalty, practically cawing it from the rooftops. These days though, she had to question if it would be worth the effort. There would be questions – uncomfortable questions – about what Luna saw within Gilda’s dreams. Given how… trivial it all seemed, she began to wonder if the Embassy would even act on it.

Why was she even in my head, anyway? I’m a lowly carrier pigeon, I’m not even somegriff important.

Not wanting that sour thought rolling around her head any longer, Gilda dipped her beak into her left wing and began smoothing out the feathers, adding in a talon to speed up the process. As a Royal Gryphus Messenger, she had been drilled by her superiors in the importance of a quick and efficient delivery between Gryphus and the remaining embassies scattered around Equestria. The inside joke of messengers was “The post is always late.” Unfortunately for the government of Gryphus, somegriff from way back in the annals of time took off with this phrase and said, “The post is always late, so don't worry.” From that day forward, messengers had been jokingly using it as an excuse to take it easy and see the sights. Sadly, this novelty was lost on Gilda.

Finished with the once-over of her wings, she killed the light and hopped off the bed onto the cloud floor. The digitized number 4:40 glared back in an accusing red, the only light now in the room. The letters “FRI” were displayed in smaller text in the bottom right, but with no less venom.

“Waking world, my ass. The sun ain't even up yet!”

Fridays were not the messenger's favorite due to the long haul flight that would take up her entire day. The flight would span from Cloudsdale all the way to the Gryphus main Embassy in Manehatten, then to the castle's front gate in Canterlot, then back to Cloudsdale just in time for sunset and for a zombified griffon to crawl back into bed. Gilda's weekly Manehatten to Canterlot journey – not counting the extra miles to and from Cloudsdale – was one of the longest flights for Royal Gryphus. It was second only to the trans-ocean route to Gryphus, which was about twice the length on a round trip. That it was her last route before a weekend off was its only saving grace.

Gilda made her way into the living area of her small cloud home. Like most cloud homes, this one was designed with a large living area in the center, the rooms arrayed in a semicircular fashion around the perimeter. Flipping on a light switch revealed the living area and its attached kitchen. She sauntered over to the small bathroom, pausing along the way to scowl at her study. The study, unlike the rest of the bluish-white cloudstruction, had walls lined with bookshelves and a green carpet to give a more cozy feel. The desk was littered with writing utensils and loose papers. Those papers were the subject of her early-morning hostility.

My pony research, the only reason I’m still even in Equestria.

In her early teens, Gilda had found herself unwillingly enrolled in the Young Ambassador’s exchange program. The program’s intent was to foster better relations between two superpowers, ponies and griffons, by transplanting participants in opposite countries to better understand the differing societies. Her unintentional academic aptitude in matters Equestrian had allowed her wealthy parents to get her a last-minute slot. That silly little program for politically motivated families had given her the means to remain in the country with her best friend and even got her a job at the Embassy when it was over, in the hopes of them spending more time together.

Fat lot of good that’s done, she concluded with a chuff.

Gilda turned back, continuing to the bathroom. Certainly no time for that now. After emerging a few minutes later with the crust out her eyes, the bald eagle-griffon headed for her kitchen to fix a small breakfast. No sense in fully boiling the water for coffee when she wouldn’t have time for it to cool down again after. Instant dissolved in lukewarm worked just fine and served to mask the taste of the stale biscuit it washed down. She tried to take her mind off both by studying the map that was magnetized to her fridge, going over the route she had already flown dozens of times. After finishing the biscuit and swallowing the last dregs of coffee, she set the mug on the table and grabbed her black leather jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. Slotting her wings through the allotted holes with practiced ease, Gilda then slipped her forelimbs into the sleeves.

Standing on her hind legs, she got her brown letter satchel with the Gryphus Crest stitched to its side and threw the strap over her head and onto her right shoulder, the bag under the left arm. While fiddling with the strap to make sure it wouldn't interfere with the action of her wings, she went to the fridge and got her mid-flight meal; a lemon-flavored sports drink and a plastic-wrapped veggie sub that she had added a thick fillet of cooked fish to the night before. Both were stuffed into the bottom of the satchel. She took a final glance at the clock and found herself ready to go to work. Her time schedule was very precise; wake at 4:30, out the door by 5:00; in Manehatten by noon Eastern Equestrian Time, and to Canterlot by 5:00 PM Central.

The other days of the week that didn’t have her delivering for Royal Gryphus were taken up with her second job; ferrying around packages for a courier company locally. Her official messenger job paid for room and board – barely – but a simple food check wasn’t enough for her plan. There were no Embassy prohibitions against taking work on the side, and with the combined income of the extra jobs, Gilda’s hope was to one day have enough money to emigrate back to Gryphus on her own in a final act of defiance against those who sent her away. There was nothing left in Equestria for her now anyway.

Turning out the last of the lights, Gilda opened the front door and entered the lamp-lit street. No question that summer was coming to an end, she reflected as her breath turned to mist in the cool morning air. The fog on her bare feet caused a brief shiver to race through her and out the tips of her tail and wings. She could just see the first twinges of purplish light in the eastern sky. Being diurnal predators, griffon eyes were specifically attuned for daylight hours, with emphasis on distant viewing and color distinction. As a result, it was uncommon for griffons to fly at night under anything less than a full moon.

“Perfect, right on schedule.”

On the back of the mail satchel was a secondary strap. Gilda stretched out her wings and wrapped the strap around her body, securing the bag in place. She then checked her pockets for her house keys and the hard case of her aviators, not wanting to burn her retinas out on another beautiful sunrise – or lock herself outside. Again. Finding her sunglasses where they belonged and locking the front door, she went out into the middle of the street.

Unlike her ex-friend Rainbow Dash, Gilda followed the rules and scanned the skies and roadway for ponies before taking off. It was legal for pegasi to take off directly from the street during nighttime and other low traffic hours. Any other time they would have to use one of the many launchpad pavilions scattered around the city. It was Rainbow Dash's unconscious disregard of the rules and other ponies which quickly made her, and by extension Gilda, very... popular with the local authorities. That was one of the factors that ultimately forced the former to leave the clouds for the land-town of Ponyville.

I stopped you doing that after you got caught and the judge sentenced us both to community service for three months!

She vividly remembered one such instance, the last instance, in which Rainbow Dash was caught recklessly flying for the umpteenth time. By mere association, Gilda was pegged with a trumped-up ‘public endangerment’ charge, for knowingly letting her friend fly with a record. That debacle and the subsequent sentence of community service almost ended her fresh research position with the Gryphus Consulate and her friendship with the pegasus.

Gilda didn't try to fight the scowl on her beak. If Rainbow Dash had been caught again, she would have been slapped with a felony, crushing any hope of a prestigious position in the Wonderbolts. So Gilda was spurned into action, not comprehending that those actions would lead to an ultimate separation. She sighed softly. I kept you grounded, then you left for Lameville like that Butterfly pony. Musta' thought I was smothering you, keeping you from your dreams; slowing you down.

She shook the memory out of her head and oriented herself to face down the street. The lamps that lined either side were used as makeshift guideposts for her takeoff run. She started walking a slow pace down the street, then sped up to a pace known in Equestria as a 'trot'. The griffon shivered at the prospect of trotting like a pony. Luckily for her, the street was generally empty at this hour, because – Celestia forbid – if anypony saw the tough as nails griffon trot...

They might get the wrong idea and think I have a creepy fetish or somethin'.

Without losing any momentum, Gilda fell into a crouch and coiled the muscles in her back legs. With an almighty thrust, Cloudsdale was shoved downwards as she fell into the sky. Large brown wings began to work with the air, each powerful stroke bringing her higher above the city. Other pegasi were just starting to fill the Cloudsdale airspace, with most of them heading to the weather factory for work.

Gilda had done that herself, for a short stint. After Junior Speedsters, she found herself abandoned in an alien country as an involuntary Young Ambassador. Her shocked and fragile mental state, coupled with her resentment over being forced into the whole situation, led to her almost constantly clashing with her surrogate family. Matters got so bad, they ended up filing a petition to send the griffon back, unless she could clean up her act.

But as much as she may have hated Equestria just then, worse things awaited back home – condescending parents who believed anything less than perfect was failure, and frienemies that were just itching for Gilda to come crawling back into their fold.

In desperation, she sought out the only pony she thought could help. But all-powerful solar princesses don’t care for the plights of hapless griffons stranded within their kingdoms. The response she received from the palace was a mere forum letter filled with meaningless platitudes, nothing actually useful. With nowhere else to turn, she wrote to her new best friend to ask for advice. After hearing her plight, though, Rainbow Dash did her one better and offered her own family as replacement surrogates.

That solved the immediate problem of tolerable hosting but didn’t cure all the griffon’s ills. She was still dealing with the fallout from back home and her family there. Again it was Dash and her family that came to Gilda’s rescue. Spectrum, Rainbow's father, was a senior plant manager at the factory. When he saw her lapsing into depression firsthoof, he had arranged for her to get a job at the Weather Factory. Part of the Young Ambassador Program entailed participants learning various trades and professions exclusive to the respective nations.

At first, she fiercely objected to the whole thing. They’d already done too much for her in her eyes, and she refused out of stubborn pride. She wanted to fly on her own wings, find her own way. Eventually, though, she came to the conclusion that she shouldn’t view the offer as further charity, but as a rightful way to earn her keep. Simply being a good employee was worth its weight in gold to the elder pegasus. Only then did she take Spectrum up on his offer. True to her word, Gilda became the best employee she could be, even earning the respect of her more senior co-workers. The job, plus hanging out with Dash after work occupied enough of Gilda's time to keep her out of spiteful despondency.

Sadly, it was something that wouldn't last long.

While enrolled in the exchange program, her position at the factory was protected. But after a year or so, the program came to an end. Spectrum did his best to save Gilda’s job, but about the only thing that could be done was to give her a new, temporary position. She was a placeholder until somepony more qualified was found for the job. And at the start of the next hiring period, Spectrum had to make a painful cut to his staff. Gilda would be terminated and replaced by somepony with a special talent. She could have asked him to petition against her termination, but at the end of the day, it’s very hard to argue with a Cutie Mark.

After gaining enough altitude, Gilda banked away from Cloudsdale and headed due east. But one abandoned cloud structure always captured her eyes whenever she came out this way. The old Cloudsdale branch of the Gryphus Consulate hung off the east end of the cloud city like a barnacle that refused to fall. A symbol of tyranny or hope – depending on who you talked to – the building used to be vibrant and full of life. Its expansive upper-tier landing decks had always been her first stop when she’d started this job a little over three years ago. Now, just over a year after it had been shuttered and most of her colleagues shuffled off to Canterlot or one of the remaining coastal embassies, the building had faded from a pristine icy white to a monotonous grey. For Gilda, it was a sign of the times, a symbol of frayed relations between griffon and pony.

It was also a reminder of something more dire. After finishing the program, she faced the prospect of returning to her parents in Gryphus. She could picture the scene; a hero’s welcome, some kind of gala, a dull affair where Gilda – the centerpiece – would have been perfectly preened and groomed. She would then have to wander around for hours with a fake smile, talking to various dignitaries and laughing at their lame attempts at humor. Topping it all would be the praise she would be showered with about the mature choices she made representing her country.

Rather than take that route – and also because Rainbow Dash was her best friend in the whole world – Gilda desperately sought out some other means by which she could remain in Equestria. As luck would have it, the Embassy had a diplomatic researcher position that had been vacant for some time. Suddenly, the qualifications that got her stranded in Equestria in the first place were what allowed her to stay. The job even afforded her the use of a small Embassy owned house, the rent of which was taken directly out of her pay. What that left over was pretty lousy – and one of the likely reasons that the position had been unfilled for so long – but it allowed Gilda true freedom for the first time in her life. No more would she have to worry about the plans her parents had for her upon her return to Gryphus. No more would she have to feel guilty (and uncomfortable) about sleeping on the sofa bed in the small spare room at Dash’s.

But research work was dull as dishwater and Gilda wasn’t a bird to be caged indoors like that. She needed to fly!

Even that far back, there were signs of the diplomatic mission in Cloudsdale winding down. Gilda was again fortuitous enough to make a lateral move within the Embassy, going from clerk to messenger, to help with the increasing offload of cable traffic and eventually assist in shuttling materials out to the remaining embassies. The pay was better and included hazard pay for having to deal with stormy weather, allowing her to start saving up little by little for her return. The research position was never officially terminated, it was just given even less attention than before.

But with the Embassy long since closed, all that was most likely over. Everygiff else was off in Vanhoover, Manehatten or Canterlot now. She’d managed to hold on for quite a while, but it was only a matter of time before the officials came for her house and her. From what she’d heard from her coworkers, Gryphus wasn’t being as generous with housing in those other cities. She had no idea where she’d end up then.

With Cloudsdale quickly receding, the griffon did a very routine navigational check. To the south were the foothills of the Unicorn Range; in the southeast was snow-capped Mount Equus, the orange sunrise lighting it up like a torch; behind was Cloudsdale. Stretching out below and to the north was the breadbasket of Equestria, nothing but rolling farmland as far as the griffon eye could see.

Directly ahead, though, was the blinding radiance of Celestia's newly risen sun, bringing pain to Gilda’s eyes. Not wasting another second, she pulled out her shades and sighed in relief as they cut the glare.

As the sun trudged further into the sky, Gilda focused on flying as efficiently as possible, riding the thermal updrafts up to the level of various jet streams. They were the roadways of Equestria’s skies and she used them to their fullest potential. After doing this for a few hours, she reached the Crystal River crossing. Just ahead was where the Vanhoover-Manehatten line turned toward the latter city after dog-legging northeast out of Canterlot. This was also another navigation point for Gilda, all she had to do was follow the tracks. Looking around once more, she could faintly make out the mist of Neighagra Falls to the far north, and the Foal Mountains in the south. A puff of steam in the east caught her attention.

The steam came from a train trundling down the tracks, heading due west. Even from her position a few thousand feet up, Gilda could still make out the train in good detail as it passed under. Being a creature of the sky, the griffon felt some misplaced pity for the ponies that needed to travel by ground-based means. They would never know the thrill and joy of soaring through the clouds. The sharp whistle, though dulled by the altitude, hit her ears. Being careful to not lose her sunglasses, Gilda glanced down to see one of the ponies operating the train lean out the window with his hat off, waving. Without much thought, the griffon rocked her wings in the traditional pegasi salute, her “cool” image forgotten for the moment. The pony apparently saw this because he put his conductor hat back on and retreated into his cab, blowing the train’s whistle again in shrill acknowledgment.

The neutral look on Gilda's face darkened to a small frown at this.

“Ugh, I'm acting more like a dweeb every day,” she muttered.

She was spared anymore thought by the tearing winds of sudden turbulence pulling her around the sky. After the brief shock and stabilizing her flight, Gilda focused again on her wings and powered through the wind shear. Several altitude adjustments later, the griffon found a smooth spot in the air. She was now flying over the low mountains where the rail line dove into a tunnel. Beyond were the outer boroughs of Manehatten. After passing over the hills, she began her descent towards the island. From below the white-headed flyer all the way to the ocean was the outer borough of New Yoke City. And, connected to the mainland via the aptly named Manehatten Bridge, was the city of dreams.

It disgusted Gilda to no end.

Comments

[PresentPerfect]

I'm pleased to see you're rewriting this. I'll give it another look when you've finished it. :)

[An-Twan Star]

5318871 The whole story is already finished, I'm just uploading one chapter a day. There are only 4 chapters so the wait shouldn't be too long.

[PresentPerfect]

5319859
Oh, cool. :)

[Seether00]

You've certainly created a melancholy mood here.